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entercarolinej · 3 months

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You Know My Ways, I Know Your Fears

Steve x reader | Stranger Things S3 | part 1 of ???

title from Go For It by Djo

Steve had figured out that Robin was gay. It was obvious by the tense, zoned-out way she reacted whenever an especially hot girl came into Scoops Ahoy to buy ice cream. Maybe not obvious to everybody, but Steve noticed things. He and Robin caught each other checking out a pair of legs in Nikes and a miniskirt and with a double take, a soft “oh?…Oh.” from Steve, and a breathless pause from Robin, he signaled his acceptance with a congenial nod and thumbs up. I mean, I get it, he thought. Nothing more had to be said–from then on, they developed a semi-sarcastic code of tongue clicks, raised eyebrows, and subtle smirks to indicate approaching ‘babes’. It made the dopey mall job tolerable. Sometimes they’d rate the customers from 1-10, bickering endlessly about each other’s taste in women. Steve’s heart wasn’t really in it but now that he had picked up on Robin’s secret, she was laying off him–a little–and it felt like maybe they were bonding.

When he was above his elbows in soapy water scrubbing ice cream drums, commiserating with Robin about the horrible, horrible uniforms, or doling out sticky, creamy scoops of cotton candy, mint chocolate chip, and USS Butterscotch, Steve felt almost normal. The monsters ripping through his every night’s dreams until he could smell their putrid breath, see the glint on their endless rows of lethal teeth, and feel their unearthly screams rattling every bone in his body didn’t feel as real.

Sometimes he was alone in the tunnels under the pumpkin patch, rooted to the spot, forced to watch the dim outline of a demogorgon barreling towards him until its faceless petals opened up and the last thing he’d see was them closing around his own head. Other times he’d be in the junkyard and somebody from the Party–Max, Nancy, or Dustin, Dustin, would be in the distance, about to succumb to the same fate. “STEVE! Help me! Steve PLEASE!” they’d scream, and he’d be sprinting as hard as he could but no matter how fast he forced his legs and lungs to move, he never got any closer and he had to watch his friends crumple under the brutal, silvery figure. Sometimes he was watching the pool through his bedroom window, body completely paralyzed, Nancy gone, as Barb was dragged into Hell, her fingers clawing against rough concrete. Steve dreaded sleep. His giant, lonely house had plenty of room for the nightmares to swoop in and find Steve. But at Scoops, sometimes, there was enough normal life happening around him that he could forget for a little while. Steve was grateful.

Your mall job was also an escape, but for totally different reasons. Starcourt opening was a reason to leave the house and think about something other than your family.

You knew most of your peers, despite their various responsibilities, carved out time for partying and thrill seeking on weekends, blissfully aware that any youthful mistakes could be laughed off or easily smoothed over within the structure of a family with a comfortable income and two functioning grown-ups. You couldn’t do that. You’d watch soaps with Mom in the evenings while doing homework, make sure she got her peppermint tea and her medication and her little comforts and routines that kept her tethered to reality, make sure Tews was fed and cuddled, and covertly stay awake until your brother returned home so that no matter what happened, there’d be someone to answer the phone and help fix whatever trouble he got into, just in case. It was enough. It had to be. If you didn’t, nobody would.

Summer was a good time to work. No school, so you could have more daytime hours without leaving Mom home alone too long. Starcourt Mall had been a highly anticipated employment opportunity at Hawkins High. Everyone speculated about the kinds and numbers of stores to be opened, the coolest places to work, the best jobs for hooking up, and the most valuable perks. First grab at the new releases at the music store? Rad. All the leftover popcorn and soda you could eat at the movie theater? Also rad.

You ended up in the major department store’s home goods section. Not sexy or cool, at all. Your co-workers were middle-aged women looking for something to keep them busy, and your customers were their counterparts who didn’t want or need employment but were eager to drop mind-boggling sums on opulent tablescapes for every possible new occasion. By the end of June, you already saw white stars and red stripes every time you closed your eyes. Even so, you had to admit to yourself that you liked the job.

“Sweetheart, I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of some glass candlesticks?”

The voice was a welcome interruption to the constant drone of Muzak in your ears. You looked over your shoulder from where you were tucking throw pillows just so in the wooden display rack into a smiling, beautifully made-up face.

“Oh, it’s you! I didn’t know you got a job here, good for you!” The woman stepped closer, her words gushing up and down as she bestowed an elegant, congratulatory shove on your elbow. A fresh floral perfume swept through your lungs, displacing the vaguely spiced waxiness that hung in the air from shelves upon shelves of every-colored candles and paper bags of potpourri.

“Thanks, Mrs. Wheeler. Yep, I sure did,” you responded, trying to tuck your hair away and straighten your puffy sleeves, a bit self-conscious in the presence of her perfectly curated and executed look. You particularly noticed her beautiful pair of chunky gold hoop earrings with pearls dangling below them and wondered if you could find a costume version somewhere that would look similar.

“This job must be so dangerous,” Karen Wheeler continued her amiable teasing. “I’m sure I could spend a whole paycheck here every day, and I bet you get to see all the new stuff before anybody!”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You smiled. “They send us pictures of how the new displays are supposed to look, and it’s pretty fun to get everything all set up just right. And Mom is definitely enjoying my employee discount,” you added with a wink, knowing just how to intrigue the target demographic of your place of employment.

“Ooh, I feel like I’m getting the inside scoop!” Karen giggled, before concern washed over her cheerful features. She hesitated, then added in a more serious tone: “How is Claudia these days?”

You bit back a sigh. “Aw, thanks for asking. She’s doing well, keeping busy with the garden and training the cat!” you said, with a flat brightness.

“Ah, that’s great.” Karen said, nodding, her smile not quite reaching her eyes, as she stared into yours for a little too long.

“Yeah, um, how are your kids doing? Is Nancy going to get a job at the mall, too?” You pivoted, casually going back to reorganizing and fluffing throw pillows.

“You know, I think I’m just going to have to be jealous of you and your mother with that employee discount! That girl can’t think of anything else but the paper,” Karen said, with an appeasing wink. You felt a familiar twinge of envy for Nancy, the girl who could do anything she wanted, neither caring nor needing to worry about how her family would fare.

Perhaps Karen noticed the slight stiffness settling between you. She picked up a throw pillow and began to awkwardly knead it between her jeweled, manicured fingers. “You know, I have to tell you, that little brother of yours is really something,” she confided.

You relaxed a little. “Oh boy, I hope he behaved himself at your house for that last sleepover.”

“Oh goodness, you know they can all act like such wild things together,” chuckled Karen. “Ted moans and groans, but you know, I like having them all around. Keeps me young! But that Dustin, I mean, he’s always so sweet to my little Holly. I think she’d rather have him for a brother than Mike.”

Your customer service smile became a true, fond smirk. “Dustin’s a great kid. But don’t tell him I said that!”

Karen laughed conspiratorially with you, tapping her nose, then pointing at you.

“Oh! Um, you asked about glass candlesticks. Actually, I just put a new shipment out this morning before we opened, I think you’ll have first pick! Just over there, around the back of that candle kiosk,” you directed.

“Yes, yes, thank you sweetie! It was great catching up with you, and please give my mother your best.” Karen patted your arm and moved away to continue browsing.

You liked these little run-ins with the parents of your peers, probably more than you should. Grown up conversations were easier to navigate than fellow teenage ones. It helped to pass the time at work. Occasionally, as you rang up their purchases and carefully wrapped them in endless sheets of shiny tissue paper, you’d be asked to babysit one of the younger girls like little Holly or Erica Sinclair. You always accepted, gratefully, as long as they promised not to be out too late.

Maybe you had a little too much in common with the mothers of your little brother’s friends. You knew they would murmur to each other when they thought you couldn’t hear. You were labeled things like “such a nice girl,” “so mature,” “an old soul.” You knew that was all code for “one of the most boring high schoolers to ever exist.” And that probably wasn’t wrong.

Your kind of “fun” was a brief stop at Scoops Ahoy after your shift at the department store. Normally, you’d have to head home and make sure Mom and Dustin ate something, but with Dustin away at camp, you didn’t feel so rushed. You’d always had a sweet tooth and the USS Butterscotch was nothing short of a flavor revelation. It didn’t hurt that Steve Harrington would greet you by name and you’d get a glimpse of his uniform. How could a cheesy sailor suit look so stupid and yet so cute, you always wondered. Maybe because it felt like it leveled the field a little, and a guy surviving a little involuntary humiliation with good humor was...attractive. You were a wallflower, not blind.

You wondered if maybe you’d thought to apply here instead of the department store, would that be you in a coordinated sailor suit, slinging banter like scoops of ice cream with Steve? Behind her band-nerd smartass school persona, you knew Robin Buckley was bubbly and funny and you tried to convince yourself you weren’t jealous of how much time she got to spend around Steve.

Why can’t that be me? you’d wonder. It came so easily to other people, the casual insults, brushes of physical touch, and flying innuendos that seemed totally naturalized between good friends but utterly foreign to you. You knew that Steve and Robin had never been close before, but you watched them work side by side, communicating in shoulder shoves, hand grabs, and muttered barbs of dingus or dipshit that weren’t supposed to be overheard by customers.

You wished you had that kind of mutual affection and security with somebody. Being a high school student moonlighting as a single parent was lonely. As glad as you were that nobody could describe Dustin as lonely, you had to admit it was confusing and even painful to see even him enjoying a mysteriously close, nearly co-dependent friendship with someone whose breezy popularity you had once envied so much, none other than Steve Fucking Harrington. It defied explanation.

Dustin’s entire friend group, actually, had become deeply mystifying. He’d always been close to Mike, Will, and Lucas, which was normal enough, but now they had added in two girls their own age–one the daughter of the chief of police, the other stepsister to the local bad boy–and, for some reason, Mike’s older sister Nancy, Will’s older brother (and Nancy’s current boyfriend) Jonathan, and Nancy’s ex, the same former King Steve of Hawkins High. He’d lost his crown around the same time that relationship ended; it had seemed…messy.

Nobody had bothered to fill you in on the specifics. You suspected Dustin knew more than you since he and Steve had become glued at the hip around the same time, but you also knew it wouldn’t occur to him his intel could be interesting to you and you didn’t want to admit you were curious. You also couldn’t bring yourself to ask the main question: what the hell do you all talk about every damn weekend? You’d watch Dustin dive into Steve’s car multiple nights per week, it felt like, with some combination of the other kids along for the ride, and they’d be at the Byer’s or the Wheeler’s or even Steve’s mansion for hours.

Surely, there was no way that Steve and Nancy had suddenly become amicable exes who were really invested in Dungeons and Dragons.

The mall had only been opened for a week or two when it happened. You’d opened at the department store, as usual, so you were off for the day by mid-afternoon. Reluctant to leave the glossy, air-conditioned walkways for the rapidly sweltering outdoors, your feet wandered slowly past the still-pristine window displays. In a concession to self-indulgence, you allowed yourself to relish a little excitement for the interaction you had looked forward to all day. The next moment, you shoved those feelings down as just butterflies. No.…social anxiety. Yeah, Steve was cute, and it was an unexpected perk of being Dustin’s older sister that he even knew your name at all, but reading anything further into your new ice cream habit would be pure delusion.

Stepping into Scoops Ahoy was a full-body sensory experience. By this time of day, it was lousy with energetic children dribbling cream-coated sprinkles on every surface. Hornpipe music blended manically with their shrieks. A cloud of toasty waffle cone and pure sugar wrapped around you so thickly you could already taste it with one foot through the door. And, behind the counter, the boy whose slouchy scowl and sailor cap couldn’t detract from his prettiness.

You forced yourself to glance around casually at the striped blue-and-white walls with faux portholes and globe sconces as you waited in line, the last in a small rush, pretending to admire the nautically committed decor instead of staring at Steve. Your ears, however, strained to catch his inane customer service interactions.

“Oh, sorry, we’re out of cotton candy…yeah, no, a lot of people like that one. Uh huh…..cup or cone? Ok so three large……that’ll be $3.75. Thanks, man.”

You hoped they weren’t sold out of your flavor.

Willing your voice to be cool and casual, you stepped up to the counter and steeled yourself to meet Steve’s heart-melting brown eyes, to watch them crinkle again with recognition and a friendly smile, before shuffling quickly through the transaction and moving on to the next girl. Instead, a fully stuffed ice cream cone suddenly popped up with a flourish into your field of vision, clutched in a large, golden-tan hand and connected by a well-toned arm to a bright royal blue sailor uniform.

“USS Butterscotch in a waffle cone, right?” Steve winked at you. You startled.

“Uh…I…”

“Oh, shoot, were you going to order something else? I can, uh…” He looked side to side, as if for somewhere else to offload the cone. His cheeks went a bit rosy.

“No! I mean, yes, that is, uh, that’s exactly what I wanted…um…” You scrambled frantically for your wallet, not having expected to need it for another moment or two.

“Wait, uh, don’t worry about it. The guy before you gave me a five and told me to keep the change, which just happens to cover you.” Steve held out the cone further, looking slightly regretful.

“Yeah, dingus, that was supposed to be a tip for us to split,” drawled Robin, appearing over Steve’s shoulder and giving him a shove.

“Shut up,” Steve grimaced at her, easily regaining his balance.

Wallet stashed back in your bag, you reached gingerly for the cone, trying to avoid a drip already running down towards the paper wrapper. In doing so, your fingers brushed against Steve’s as he carefully released it into your grasp. Smooth, warm, strong. Your stomach jolted.

“Thanks, but I don’t want to take your tips.” You looked at Robin, her expression transitioning from annoyance to something else. Curiosity, maybe. You wondered, not for the first time, about her and Steve.

“Jeez, no, don’t worry about it.” Steve gestured dismissively at Robin, flicking a glare in her direction and then capturing your eyes again with that friendly smile you had been looking forward to. He leaned over the counter with two widespread, subtly flexing arms. “Hey, uh, did Dustin make it to camp okay?”

You gently twisted the paper wrapper of the cone between your fingers, catching a drip or two with your tongue before they could land on your clothes or the floor. At Steve’s question, your eyebrows shot up and you lowered the cone from your face.

“Oh yeah, he was able to call us the first night. He sounded pretty happy. I guess there are more girls there than he expected.” It was your turn to grimace a little. Thinking about Dustin and girls was fairly new territory.

“Girls at science camp, huh? Who’da known!” Steve raised his eyebrows and nodded, his mouth twisting down in a look of mild surprise. He was interrupted by a scoff.

“Women? In science? It shouldn’t be allowed! This simply won’t do!” Robin gasped, her old-timey scandalized affect perfectly conveying deep, sarcastic disdain for Steve’s comment.

Steve’s face tightened and his eyes widened with exasperation. You couldn’t hold back a tiny snicker. He glanced at you, quickly, looking a bit…wounded? That sobered you immediately.

“Yeah, well. I guess Dustin is going to need to put whatever advice you gave him to good use,” you offered, trying to be conciliatory. “Thanks again for the ice cream, you didn’t have to do that.”

Steve sighed, still clearly irked by Robin, but gave you an effortlessly sharp two finger salute and the tiniest smile. Pretty.

You stepped carefully around tables and sticky spots on the floor as you left, fighting the urge to turn back and watch as Robin began to berate Steve again. Maybe that’s what he really liked in a girl, somebody who constantly teased and riled.

“Advice? What kind of advice did you give her poor brother? Let’s take a look at the data–”

Out the door, you couldn’t help glancing back through the large glass window at Robin’s smirk, gesturing to a whiteboard with a small handful of scribbled tally marks. Whatever it was didn’t seem like official ice cream business. Steve had one hand on his hip and the other tangled in his hair, his hat suddenly missing as if he’d knocked it off to do so. But what surprised you was that his eyes were, for half a second, on you, too.

You remembered the night, a few months back, that Steve had admitted to giving Dustin romantic advice. One day in February, Dustin smugly told you Steve Harrington was coming over for dinner and to watch Doctor Who with him.

“Are you sure he even wants to come over?” You interrogated your brother. “I like to watch Doctor Who with you but I gotta say I really don’t see it being something he’d like.”

“You are correct, but that’s exactly why he has to watch it. I’m giving him a nerd culture education. He doesn’t even know the differences between Star Trek and Star Wars.”

“What if he hates it?”

“He will. It’s gonna be great.”

“...okay, so why on earth did he agree to come?”

“Because Lucas is going to quiz him this weekend. Also, I don’t think he likes being around his parents.” Dustin continued, casually burying the lede. “They just got back from one of their trips and he said he was planning to go bowling or something by himself so he didn’t have to see them. I guess his dad’s an asshole–”

“Dustin–”

“So I told him to come here instead because you and mom won’t mind, and I wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Your brother continued, knowing you didn’t really care about his language despite the occasional gesture at propriety.

Secretly, you still wondered if Dustin had some kind of weird blackmail on Steve, but you were getting used to the fact that he was apparently unable to resist your brother’s immense capacity for persuasion. Your brother was a total dork but you knew he was also perceptive and deeply empathetic, even towards top-dog hot-shot seniors without any apparent reason to give him the time of day.

Day of, you thought a little harder than usual about what outfit you wanted to wear, finally settling for your trendiest pair of jeans and that top you knew brightened your skin and your eyes. You teased your hairdo with extra care and squandered a swipe of your favorite lip gloss.

You sort of hated yourself for doing it, seeing as you knew Steve didn’t think about you at all and you didn’t want him to. But you also weren’t going to blend into your frumpy house if you could help it, for your dignity’s sake.

Steve arrived promptly, in one of his signature striped polo shirts with an expensive-yet-casual jacket. He ruffled Dustin’s hair and looked you and your mother both in the eyes as he removed his jacket, clearly feeling awkward. “Hello, thank you for having me.” Anxiety, not butterflies.

Tews, a deeply suspicious cat, made himself scarce.

“Steve, dear, we are so glad to have you. Dusty’s been so excited,” began your mom, eliciting a groan from her son.

“Oh come ON, can we just eat already? I have SO MUCH backstory to explain to Steve!” He took Steve’s jacket, flung it on the coat rack, and hustled you all through the kitchen into the dining room, where Dustin’s requested lasagna was already on the table with your good company plates.

You guessed that Steve was used to much nicer tableware and house furnishings, and you watched guardedly, waiting for him to scan the whole room and clock every imperfection. Instead, he seemed shy and grateful, like the atmosphere was somehow making him feel inadequate, not the other way around.

He caught you looking at him and cleared his throat. “Uh, thank you for cooking dinner. Dustin told me your lasagna is awesome.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s, uh, it’s mostly just opening the box of pasta and the jars of sauce,” you hedged.

“She’ll NEVER reveal her secret!” The whole house was Dustin’s voice as he scooped an enormous hunk out of the dish and hefted it over to Steve’s plate. You thought you saw the older boy wince and his eyes flash towards your mother as sauce and cheese splattered onto the floral oilcloth covering your table. Your mother was entirely preoccupied settling herself into her chair with a contented sigh.

You cringed a little, your own eyes flicking across Steve’s shirt to see if Dustin had splashed his clothes, but you didn’t think so. Then you realized you didn’t care if he had. You knew Steve must have dozens of those shirts filling his closet at home.

By now, the remaining three plates had also been laden with sloppy layers of lasagna and Dustin had taken his seat across from your mom at the little round table. He was digging in, chewing with his mouth a little more open than you’d prefer, and grinning to his right at Steve, who slowly picked up his fork, checking to make sure you and your mom were doing the same.

You braced yourself for Steve to pick around his plate, perhaps make excuses about a late lunch–not because you cared if he enjoyed his dinner, but because you didn’t like the idea of any judgment whatsoever coming down on your little life. Steve had traveled, stayed in expensive hotels, and eaten at famous restaurants. The Harrington ski weekends and summer trips to Europe were common fodder for envious school gossip. You knew your house, your food, your family were simple in comparison, but you didn’t want to be reminded through Steve’s eyes.

“Okay, so. The Doctor is a member of a highly advanced alien species called Time Lords.” Dustin launched into a grand narration about time travel; camouflaging, auto-translating spaceships; and intergalactic conflicts–all of it necessary, in his view, to induct Steve into the lore of his favorite show. His messy fork stabbed vigorously through the air, accompanied by sputtered sonic screwdriver sound effects.

Steve nodded and glanced between Dustin and his own plate, eating neatly and humming comprehension and agreement, raising his eyebrows to indicate shock and awe at the appropriate twists and reveals (“Bigger…on the INSIDE”). You thought you maybe caught the tiniest of eyerolls from time to time, which made you want to smirk. Interacting with Dustin in this mode was notoriously painful but Steve was putting up with it admirably. Again, why?

You also had to notice that the food was disappearing rapidly, and not just from Dustin’s plate. When your brother finally had to stop and catch his breath, Steve looked at you and earnestly said, “This lasagna is…outrageous.”

“I TOLD you so!” Dustin sounded more proud of his own accuracy than your cooking chops.

“She takes such good care of us.” Your mother beamed, an unusual twinkle in her eye. “Dusty and I are lucky to have her. Quite the chef!”

“Yeah.” Steve agreed politely.

You felt your cheeks warm. Dustin’s friends always liked your food, but those dinners had never ended with your mom awkwardly wingmanning you to a guy who would never even glance your way at school. NOT butterflies.

“I’m glad you like it.” You acknowledged the compliment a bit stiffly, wondering if Steve and Dustin were expecting you to all get along and chat, or if they were just being polite for the duration of the meal.

Dustin glanced at the clock and let out a yell before shoveling his last few bites into his mouth. “It’s starting soon! Gotta finish up!”

Now Steve was fully laughing at him. “Dude, we’ve got a few minutes. Don’t choke yourself.” He stood and began stacking dishes and silverware. You reached for his pile, but he pulled them away. “No, it’s okay, I can wash up. It’s the least I can do.”

“Oh no, dear, you’re our guest! Go settle in.” Your mom waved him off, taking the stack with her into the kitchen and filling the sink with water. You followed her with the leftover food and started putting it away while Dustin swiped at the tabletop with a rag.

“Are you sure? I really don't mind.” Steve looked unsure of what to do with his now-empty hands, first crossing them, then moving them to his hips, then running one through his thick, shiny hair. It was clear you three Hendersons had a well-established routine for dividing up the tasks and weren’t prone to disruptions.

Dustin finished cleaning the table and grabbed Steve by the shoulder, shoving him in the direction of the tv room. “Alright, let’s go, the TARDIS awaits!”

“Easy there, di–uh, Dustin.” Steve stood his ground and gently shoved back, still looking to you and your mom for orders.

“Yeah, thanks, but don’t worry about it. I’ll just let it all soak right now and turn on the radio later,” you said, trying to process the fact that Steve Harrington had just offered to do your dishes.

“You go on, too, sweetheart. Don’t miss your show with Dustin! I’ll just get the dishes out of the way now before I head to bed.” You flushed again at your mom’s revelation that you, too, were invested in Doctor Who.

“Are you sure, mom? Are you feeling okay?”

“Oh, I’m just fine. Go relax,” she insisted.

You followed Dustin and Steve into your living room as the credits and theme song came on. Dustin jumped into your mom’s chair and pointed at the end of the couch closest to the TV, which Steve hesitantly took. You slowly sat down on the opposite end, nearest the kitchen. Having finally decided the evening’s intrusion to be non-threatening, Tews joined Dustin in the recliner.

“Is that Doctor Who?” Steve pointed at the first character that appeared on the screen, an alien with a mask of goopy rubber tentacles.

“No dipshit–”

“Language,” Steve chided mildly, glancing your way. “How about him?” This time it was a humanoid.

“No. Like I was explaining earlier, there is no ‘Doctor Who.’ Just ‘The Doctor’.”

“Okay, so they made a whole show about a guy who doesn’t even have a name?”

“He does have a name, he’s a Time Lord, he’s called The Doctor. It’s not complicated.”

“But ‘The Doctor’ isn’t a name, that’s, like, a title. You can’t just be ‘The Doctor’. He should be Doctor Somebody, otherwise you’d get confused with any other doctor on the show. Like ‘oh, hey, we need a doctor! But wait, what doctor? Doctor who? …Oh…”

Dustin’s eyeballs looked like they were going to pop out of his head as he glared at Steve condescendingly. A giggle leapt out into the silence, despite your best efforts.

“Yeah, okay, I heard it.” Steve grumbled and quieted down.

Between the distractions of Steve Harrington on your couch and the gentle clinks and splashes coming from next door in the kitchen, you really weren't paying attention to the show how you normally would. You were worried about your mom. Evenings were usually hardest for her, and it was about the time she’d be going to bed. You knew she had exerted herself more than usual today, tidying the house and gardening in the yard. She liked these domestic tasks but they took a lot out of her.

The sound of shattering glass and a yelp sent you bolt upright onto your feet. Dashing the couple of steps to the kitchen, you found your mom on her knees. Shards from a drinking tumbler sparkled around her. You paused for a half second to determine the clearest path across the floor only to feel a tall form making contact with you from behind unexpectedly, nearly knocking you over.

“Jeez, oh gosh, sorry, I’m so sorry,” Steve, apparently not having expected you to stop, reflexively grabbed your arm and the counter to steady himself and you. “Are you okay, Mrs. Henderson?” Warm, strong.

Your mom had slid to the floor, her back against the lower cabinets, with her eyes closed, breathing shallowly. You pulled away from Steve and gingerly stepped over to crouch by her. “Hey, mom?” She gave you a pale smile and gestured limply to the broken glass as you gently rubbed her back. “Butterfingers.”

You smiled back, then turned to Steve, anxious to handle the situation without his participation.

“I’ll clean this up and help mom to bed. Go back and watch with Dustin, he really wanted to spend time with you.” You silently prayed Steve would obey, despite the concern on his face. He could tell something wasn’t right. “Go on!” You knew your tone was closer to urgent when it should have been casual, but Steve slowly nodded and rejoined Dustin in the tv room.

Ignoring the sense memory of Steve’s fingers wrapped protectively around your elbow, you bent closer to your mom, seeking eye contact. “Mom? Mom? Talk to me.”

“I…I…I can’t…I need…” Her breaths were coming quicker and quicker and sounding raspier and raspier until they transitioned into low sobs, her shoulders shaking.

“I know, mom, I know,” you soothed, like she was a young child. “It’s been a long day. Let’s get you all cleaned up and get some rest.”

Mom’s chest continued to heave as you slowly helped her stand up, checking her hands and knees for any cuts or stray bits of glass. That’s when you saw her palm bleeding, smearing red on her sleeve as she wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s okay, you’re okay. It’s just a little cut. I’ll get you all fixed up.” Your voice was low and slow, and you continued to rub her back, helping her over to a chair.

“Hey, is mom…?” Dustin appeared at your side, Steve hovering a step or two behind him, both trying to step around the glass.

“Yeah, just…” you made a shoo motion at both of them. “I got it.”

Steve found himself again in front of a show he couldn’t be bothered to understand, trying to make sense of what had unfolded in the kitchen. He knew his experience with his own mom was not…normal, but despite how different your household was to his own, this didn’t seem normal, either. His ears, nearly completely tuned out from the TV, strained to follow along as you treated and bandaged your mom’s hand, helped her take some pills, made her a cup of tea, and helped her down the hallway to bed.

You returned, scooping up Tews from Dustin’s lap. As you carried him away, Steve could barely make out, under your breath “Come on, buddy, mama needs you…” He could hear your mother’s low, panicking sobs rising and falling and your voice soothing and shushing, until eventually all was quiet from the direction of the bedrooms. Eventually you came back to the tv room, lips pressed together in a forced neutral expression, and grabbed your coat, shutting the front door behind you.

When the episode of Doctor Who ended, Steve and Dustin both got up and headed for the kitchen.

“Um, where’s your broom?” Steve asked. Dustin opened the broom cupboard and handed it over, picking up a dustpan and brush for himself. They carefully cleared the glass away, examining the floor closely for any glint that could mean a hazardous shard left behind.

“Thanks,” said Dustin, as they put the cleaning tools neatly back in position.

“Yeah, of course.” Steve nudged Dustin casually. “Safety first, my little friend.”

“I’m not a child.” Dustin rolled his eyes.

“Uh huh. That’s exactly what a child would say.” Steve shook a warning finger in Dustin’s face. “You can’t fool me with your fancy sci-fi tv show knowledge. I’m the one keeping you out of trouble. In fact, you’re just like those guys in that show needing to be rescued all the time, which, yes, admit it, that makes ME Doctor Who.”

“Oh, my GOD. Just go HOME already. Why do I even bother,” Dustin groaned. Steve smirked triumphantly, ruffled Dustin’s hair, and glanced towards the back of the house.

“Is…is your mom…alright?” he said, his voice much quieter.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, well, yeah. You know. She’ll be totally back to normal in the morning.”

Steve didn’t know, but Dustin seemed to feel he’d answered the question, so Steve grabbed his jacket, said goodnight and stepped out onto the porch, which is how he nearly fell over you for the second time that evening.

“Oh, sh–jeez–uh, I’ve gotta stop doing that!” he gasped, catching his balance.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” You had been seated, motionless, on the step, in the warm glow of the porch light, staring out at the chilly darkness. You loved the tall, tall trees circling your house, the only things visible between you and the stars. Now, you turned expectantly to face the tall boy on your porch, waiting for him to scoot past you towards his BMW and take off. “The show is over?”

“Yeah.”

For some reason, Steve didn’t seem in a rush to leave. Then you remembered: his parents. What must that be like, trying to avoid your mom and dad as much as possible? You had a weird feeling that he had a good reason; he didn’t seem like your typical rebellious, angsty teen.

“Um, whatddya think?” you asked, picking at your thumbnail.

Steve gave you the same earnest look from earlier when he had complimented your lasagna.

“Not really my thing.”

You had to laugh. “It’s not for everybody, I guess.”

“You like it?”

It was your turn to repay the earnesty. “Yeah…I do. I know the costumes and makeup and everything are pretty goofy, but I think it looks like the people who made the show had a lot of fun doing it. And I like how the Doctor always tries to save everybody, no matter what.”

Steve thought about that for a moment. “Yeah, I guess I haven’t really seen other shows like that.”

He slowly sat down alongside you on the porch step, leaving a couple of feet between you. You became deeply focused on a bundle of pine needles that had found its way into your hands, snapping them apart into smaller and smaller pieces. You’d never get tired of that scent. Its sharp tingle was a helpful distraction from the warm and boyish smell you couldn’t help but notice lingering around Steve. For a couple of minutes, the only sounds on the porch were little exhales of breath as they formed twisting clouds escaping from your lungs into the night.

You could feel that Steve had something to say long before the words left his mouth. He struggled to shape their meaning into something you could accept.

“I’m…sorry, about your mom,” he finally tried.

You didn’t reply, still attentively snapping pine needles.

He continued. “I don’t really…well, I mean, Dustin hasn’t really said much about her, to me anyway.”

You knew why. There wasn’t an easy answer, or a short story. Mom was complicated. Usually you and your brother just pretended things were normal, or close to it. Dustin’s other friends were used to her, but you knew it had been obvious to Steve that something wasn’t right. He was looking at you with genuine concern, not just curiosity. You let the night sounds fill out a long pause before you responded, your words slow and careful.

“Dustin should just get to be a kid. I don’t want him to worry about her, or anything like that.”

You were surprised to hear yourself open up to Steve, of all people, but even more surprised to see his eyes cloud over instantly when you said that. He looked troubled, and also just…sad. Maybe even scared?

Steve composed himself quickly, giving a forced laugh. “Man, he’s really something. I think the only thing he’s worried about is whether or not I can talk nerd shit with him.” Why did it sound like Steve was trying to comfort you?

You paused too long for another joke to feel natural, and you hadn’t thought of a joke anyway.

“Thanks for spending so much time with him. I think it’s really helping him, even if I have…no idea why you guys are even friends.” You were back to studying your broken bits of pine needles.

Steve’s laugh was heartier this time. “I...wish I could tell you.”

You looked over at him, trying to read his expression. That was when you noticed that after you left, he must have unbuttoned his polo shirt to get comfortable while watching the tv show in the warmth of the house. Now, as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his partially bare neck and shoulder caught your eye. There was a distinctly darkish purple shadow on his skin, like the grip of a large, rough hand.

He saw your eye flick down. Automatically, a tiny shrug shifted the fabric of his polo and jacket over the shadow, and you wondered if you’d imagined it: a trick of the porch light, or the angle of his collarbone, maybe.

For a while, you both sat, quietly observing the night.

You sometimes felt your most peaceful at night, in the dark. If mom and Dustin were both in their rooms, and the dishes–oh shit, the dishes–and other chores were all taken care of, you felt safe. Nobody could see you, nothing could touch you. It would be hours before a new task had to be done or another well-meaning neighbor could pry into your family’s business.

Steve broke the silence with a sharp intake of breath. “Parent stuff is…hard.” He spoke out towards the trees, then glanced sideways at you, chewing his lip.

You nodded, staring at the ground between you, his gaze burning into the side of your face. Then, screwing your courage to the sticking point, you confronted him: “What did you mean, that you keep Dustin out of trouble, that you keep rescuing him?”

Steve looked a bit stunned.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, I’m sorry, you guys are just loud. Is he…doing anything? I need to know.”

“No! Nonono, no. Gosh, no, I swear, he’s a GREAT kid. Dustin would never–I was just–I mean–”

You met Steve’s gaze, and although his pleading words sounded fake, his eyes begged you to believe him. You cut him off, mercifully.

“Dustin isn’t in any trouble? Is he keeping any secrets from me?”

Steve shook his head vigorously at your first question and then paused a bit guiltily at your second.

“You know, I kinda just gave him some…girl advice. And then when it didn’t work out, I gave him more advice to help…fix it. I know you guys are close, and you do a lot for him, and he really loves you, but I guess it’s not really the kind of thing you talk to your sister about. Not that I’d really know, but, uh…” Steve trailed off, his eyebrows raised high above his large brown eyes and bemused smirk. He hoped his affect was casual and believable enough to shepherd the conversation into a lighter direction.

Dustin, looking for girl advice from Steve Harrington? This friendship made even less sense to you than it did a few minutes ago. But Steve had a point. And you wanted to believe that if Dustin trusted Steve, then you could, too. You felt warm and fuzzy thinking about how Steve let it slip that Dustin must have talked about you. It made you daring.

“Yeah, I guess not. Dustin’s lucky to be getting dating advice from King Steve.” Your eyes returned to the trees but Steve’s grimace was too obvious to be missed.

“He’s nothing like me.” This time, when you looked over, Steve’s jaw was set firmly, his eyes darkened, and he wouldn’t look at you. “Thanks again for dinner, it was amazing. Goodnight.”

Steve stood up and headed for his car, and as you watched him go you saw him pull a package of cigarettes and a lighter from his jacket pocket. You thought about calling out something about how he better not be letting Dustin smoke, but you thought better of it. Steve had seemed bothered by your King Steve comment and after seeing firsthand how much he cared about Dustin, you felt bad upsetting him.

The next morning, as Dustin had predicted, your mom was calm and cheery.

“Did you kids have a fun time with Steve?” She beamed from behind her cup of coffee, Tews curling around her feet contentedly.

“Yep.” Dustin was scrambling to shove bread into the toaster and pour himself OJ.

“He seems like a nice boy,” your mom prodded.

“Mmhmm,” you offered noncommittally to your own cup of coffee. Then, unable to resist teasing: “No idea what he sees in Dustin through.”

“He recognizes charm and intellect when he sees it!” Dustin protested.

“Maybe Dustin isn’t the only reason he came over,” your mother mused with twinkling, hopeful eyes.

“Mom–”

“HEY–”

Ignoring the protests of her children, she continued. “You aren’t seeing anybody and I don’t think he is either, right Dustin?”

“You are correct, but mom, seriously–”

You cut in. “Not happening, mom.”

“What would be so crazy about going on a date with him? You’re a beautiful girl, he’s a handsome, nice boy! You should go out and have a little fun!”

You gritted your teeth. Sure, you’d love to have a normal teenage life.

“She’s not gonna date Steve, mom. He’s a cool guy and everything but the last time he dated somebody, his friends got really sick and twisted about it. Remember the graffiti about Nancy last year?”

Your guts contorted in sympathy and dread at the memory, like a knot tightened with a sudden jerk. Nancy “The Slut” Wheeler. She had moved on and continued to hold her head up at school, but you were no Nancy Wheeler. If it had been you, tangling somehow with Steve and Tommy H. and Carol, you’d have either jumped into the quarry or left Hawkins for the closest nunnery. You didn’t even know the details of what had happened–it wasn’t like anybody really talked to you–but you felt pretty sure Nancy couldn’t have deserved it, especially not with the romantic reputation Steve himself had earned around school.

Even you knew about that. Yeah, dating Steve was off the table.

#stranger things #steve harrington #scoops ahoy #scoops troop #steve x reader #stranger things s3 #robin buckley

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fateisnotafactor · 5 months

Text

Apparently I'm on a writing rampage today.

Pretty sure this is SFW, but if I continue it, it definitely won't be. There's some texting in here and I'll try to reformat it when I get home, just let me know if it's hard to read. (Part 2)

Shouta takes Hizashi out in the wilderness for some survival training and just fucking hunts him. Hizashi is spooked by everything, Shouta moves silently, sticking in the shadows. Hizashi flinches as a twig snaps from across the clearing. Oh, it's just a bunny. He starts to relax only to be wrapped up in Shouta's scarf, dangling upside down from a tree, and Shouta walks up chuckling and just gives him a little spiderman-style kiss before dropping him onto the ground in a tangle of scarf. "You're getting there. We'll try again next year, love."

Next year they bring a pretty little thing and hunt her together. How else is Hizashi going to learn to like the great outdoors?

Hizashi has had his eye on you since that Gala a few months back. You were a fan, so excited to shake his hand and take a picture with him. Shouta noticed how he perked right up, the way his hand slid down your hip as he asked Shouta to take one more, just in case one of you blinked. You blushed of course. Flattered that someone you looked up to was so thoughtful and not just doing the obligatory smile, click, 'move along.'

Shouta bumped into you at the grocery store a couple of weeks later and struck up a conversation. "Marshmallows? Chocolate? Graham crackers? Are you going camping by any chance?"

Well, what a coincidence. So were Shouta and Hizashi. It took a little bit of convincing for you to tell him where you were going, and all by yourself?

"Not to intrude, but would you like some company? It's not safe out there alone. There's been a few bear sightings in that area."

Not to mention that Shouta is an expert at wilderness survival. They had actually been planning on heading to that same park, just a little deeper into the mountains. He has a special permit since they're going to be setting up a summer camp for the students this year. Oh, did he mention that his partner Hizashi was a teacher too? Yeah, that Hizashi. Your favorite radio star.

Now that certainly piqued your interest. Sure, you'll have to make some changes to what you were going to pack, but since your friends backed out a couple weeks ago, well after you could rearrange your time off with your boss, having some company actually sounds like a lot of fun.

Shouta exchanges numbers with you, texting to make sure you had his, and then let you head home. He'll touch base later tonight after he tells Hizashi the good news.

Hizashi remembers you. Of course he does. As soon as you tagged him in the photo, he liked and commented saying that it was always great to meet a fan. He hoped it didn't seem too overly enthusiastic or out of the norm for him. He followed you back and scrolled through your timeline. You don't post much, or if you do, your privacy settings wouldn't let him see everything. Most of it is posts that you've been tagged in, and he has to be extra careful not to accidentally double tap to like any of these posts, especially now that he's a couple years back on your timeline.

You actually seem to enjoy the outdoors. He shudders as he sees you posing next to some beetle on a tree. The thing is absolutely massive. *Fuck.* He accidentally liked the post as he tried to scroll away from the infernal thing. But then you messaged him?

You: Heyyy, so Shouta kind of invited me camping with you. Are you interested in conservation efforts too? I saw you just liked that pic of the rhinoceros beetle. Don't you think it's a shame that people are still trafficking endangered species?

What's he supposed to say to that? He hates bugs, but you're trying to find common ground with him.

Hizashi: Yeah. Smugglers are the worst.

You: Right?! I'm so glad you're so passionate about endangered species too! I really hope we see some so we can add to the national count going on!

You're ... actually excited about bugs? Maybe if he says yes, you'll want to help him too? It's been a while since he and Shouta had a pretty little thing to go "camping" with. If he played his cards right, maybe this year he won't be the prey.

Hizashi: Yeah, I'd like that. Hey, how do you feel about survival games?

You: Like Minecraft? Haha

Hizashi: LOL

Hizashi: No

Hizashi: More like a more adult version of hide and seek tag

Hizashi: Wait not like that

You: Haha like that dangerous game story but for fun?

Hizashi: Yeah! Like that!

You: Can't say I've ever played that.

You: But I'm open to giving it a try

Hizashi feels all fuzzy inside, practically kicking his feet at the idea of you running through the woods, looking back over your shoulder to see him running through the trees after you. He knows he's nowhere near as graceful as he imagines, but for you, he would give it his all.

He looks up to find Shouta looking over his shoulder. "She said she's interested!"

"Mhm."

"Shou, please, please, please? She offered! She said she was open to it!"

Shouta sighs, unable to resist the look on Hizashi's face. "Fine."

"Yes!"

It was like Hizashi was a completely different man, suddenly rushing to pack his things for the trip. Something he had been putting off for the entire week, while Shouta was already fully packed. He pulls out your phone to text you.

Shouta: Sounds like Hizashi is excited that you agreed to come with us.

You: Oh that's great! I hope you guys don't mind me tagging along. I've never actually gone that deep into the park. This is going to be a first for me!

Shouta: Don't worry, we'll make sure you don't wander off and get lost. I've had to work plenty of rescues out there, and it sounds like you have some experience. It'll be fun.

You: I can't wait!!! Is there anything special I should bring? Extra water? Supplies? Heavier gear?

Shouta: Don't worry about all that, we'll have more than enough for the three of us. Just bring what you normally do and let me and Hizashi take care of everything else.

Shouta couldn't help but smile at how excited you seemed to be at joining them on their little annual trip. He'd be sure to keep an extra close eye on you. Figure out your patterns, your habits, your skill level. Hell, if they played their cards right, maybe you could be a recurring guest on their hunting trips.

He wonders how much of a fight you'll put up against them. Will you have to tap out? How long would it take for him to have you tied up all pretty, hanging from a tree? Would you celebrate with them afterward?

He pulls his lower lip between his teeth as he pulls up your social media. Tapping through to a friend's page who had tagged you. Well, well, well. Look at that.

He finds a album from a rock climbing trip you went on a few weeks ago, dangling off the side of a rocky ledge. Smile plastered to your face as you hang, practical upside down with no harness. You can't be far off the ground, but he can already tell that this is going to be more fun than he's had in years.

---

Part 2 (SFW) Masterlist (And where I try to post my fics)

#aizawa shouta #bnha #mha #erasermic #erasermic x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #hizashi yamada #hizashi yamada x reader #primal play #wip #quill writes

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thegamingcatmom · 4 months

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Good morning! (Here its morning at least lol) I was wondering if we could get some HC perhaps on how the sisters behave when their smol human is sick? Or hurt, or yk merely feeling down, we all have bad days and I am sure reader is no exception, is going to be fun to know how they handle the situation, they gonna be all loving and soft all over reader? panic? Yell at each other trying to look for a solution? Will Tanya have to go all coven leader on them? So many options!

Thanks in advance and have a great week!(:

Hey there!

I think it was actually late evening for me, lol. Time zones do be confusing sometimes. 🙃

Aight, lemme tell you this: You better be "just" sick or feeling down because it´s simply a shitty day for ya. Because if someone else was responsible for your state? Yeah...good luck to that person. And to you for the sheer impossible feat of trying to contain three raging bulls.

Right so, I´ll start with the most obvious one:

Irina Denali aka Big Mama

I mean...it´s in the name. She´s mama. She´s got a natural instinct to nourish and preen and coddle. She´s the one I consider the most maternal out of the sisters, so she will know what to do instantly.

Depending on your woe, she will swarm you with blankets and meds and soup and chocolate and cuddles ofc, can´t forget those. One of the many perks of dating a vampire: You can cuddle (or smooch, in Tanya´s case) as much as you want without getting your partner sick too. ✅

She´ll be your ear if you need to vent about how absolutely dreadful your day was. She´ll be your shoulder if the need to cry it all out becomes too overwhelming. She´ll be your cooling pad if you´re down with a bad fever. Whatever you need in that moment, she´ll provide it for you.

You´re her babygirl, and she will coo at you and sing you the sweetest of lullabies as you fall asleep in her arms.

The safest place on earth.

Tanya Denali aka Mother Hen

I think Tanya would feel extremely torn between the need, and the instinct to care for you. Like, ofc as your girlfriend/wife/mate there´s this need and desire to protect and care for you. She´s similar to Irina, in that aspect. Always ready to get you anything you might need or want, always ready to swarm you with love and affection. Anything to make her dove feel nice and cozy.

But then there´s the fact she´s also the coven leader, and that comes with its very own set of instincts. At least that´s how I like to imagine it. As a leader, she has a natural instinct to protect and, more importantly, to provide for the members of her coven. Those instincts go through the roof in trying times.

...Such as her smol hooman being sick/in poor condition. She´s experiencing double the pressure to care for you - both as your mate AND as a leader. She´ll be torn between laying down with you and being up and about to find things to, well, provide you with. You know how a dog will find all kinds of toys and plonk! them in its tiny human´s lap? Not quite knowing what will satisfy the smol human, but damn willing to try anyway? That´s kinda how it is for Tanya, lol.

One minute she will be cuddling with you, the next minute she´s up to search for stuff to bring you. She´s kinda interfering with her own care, lol. It´s as hilarious as it is exhausting, especially when her tiny human wants nothing more than to have those strong arms wrapped around her.

Sighs, being a leader´s mate can be so taxing.

Kate Denali aka First Time Mom

I mean...she´s putting in real effort, she really is. It´s actually quite adorable. She´ll be fussing about, frantic hand waving and all, as she flits from room to room in search of...something. Anything, really. She feels overwhelmed because her instincts are screaming at her, but it´s like she´s running on the wrong frequency. She´s made for fighting and worshipping, not nursing.

As your mate though, she´s eager to please and damn determined to win this battle.

...She´ll ask Irina or Tanya for guidance first, though. Probs Irina because it´s the lesser blow to her ego. And also because her little sister is such a Mom as it is, it´s like she´s got it etched in her DNA or something. However, she struggles quite a bit with actively seeking help. It´s not something she´s used to...at all. She´s a warrior, for god´s sake. She´s fought battles so gruesome that explaining them in detail would turn even the strongest stomach.

But, well...even the greatest warriors need a helping hand from time to time. And when it comes to you? She´ll do anything.

One thing´s for certain though: Never in her life had a battle been this nerve-wracking before.

************************************************************************

I agree with you that there´s just SO many options on how this could go down. I really like your ideas with them yelling at each other in complete and utter desperation on how to handle this, or Tanya going all coven leader "You will fix this." on her sisters because she herself doesn´t know how to handle it. xD

It always depends on the situation I´d say. But you´ve defo given me some new thoughts to think and feelings to feel, so perhaps I´ll include some of it in my WIP. ^^

Thanks a lot for your ask & have a great weekend! 💋

#tumblr asks #the denalis #tanya denali #kate denali #irina denali #headcanons #you #fem reader #you is sick #sisters be going crazy #except for irina #girl is a pro

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domesticatedangel · 1 year

Text

this was inspired by @deancrowleycas and I dedicate it to him and all his awesome work!! Thank you for all that you do <3

p.s. i wrote this in an hour and it has not been proofread, please be kind

The thought pops into his head randomly one day, as most do for him. Of course, it wasn’t quite that random at all, looking back. It had actually been a perfect set of circumstances that led to this very important, life altering revelation.

Dean had been craving sweets, as it were. He blames it on the kid. How is he supposed to say no to Jack when he conspires that they can double their ice cream spoils by having it before and after dinner, just as long as Cas doesn’t catch them?*

*It is of note that, while the six year old capital-G God tries to plan this, he is essentially stage whispering right in the earshot of said angel, who would not need any kind of celestial power to overhear him.**

**It is also of note that Jack still, miraculously, goes unheard.

And so it goes.

But now, it seems that the conspiracy has grown deeper. It’s not just a scoop of ice cream before dinner anymore, or a cookie when homework is done, or a piece of ruby red, cherry candy when aunt Rowena comes around. At least, not for Dean. After so many pointed looks from Cas over the amount of wrappers littering the kitchen table, even he’s taken measures to hide it away.

He has a sweets problem. So what? He thinks it’s a treat well deserved.

And that’s what he tells himself as he’s standing in line at the grocery store, one hand on the cart handle and the other secure on Jack’s hand (since he’s apparently “too grown” to sit in the cart now), all while scanning the candy stand. He feels a tug on his arm and looks down.

“Can I get something, Dean?” Jack asks, cute and polite. He already knew what Dean was thinking.

“Thought we compromised, kid.” Dean responds and nods towards the grocery belt behind him. “We got you that cereal to keep you off the sweets for a while.”

Jack tries not to pout, but it only comes off that much more of a scowl, a familiar one at that. It takes everything in Dean to not laugh at the expression. But he’s also nothing if not a pushover for that expression, whether the face is six years old, or a milenia.

“Alright, okay,” Dean sighs and crouches down to Jack’s level, who’s still too busy squinting in spite to reach Dean’s eyes. “How about we get something to share?”

At this, Jack immediately perks up, and Dean rolls his eyes fondly, turning back to look at the options. He catches something on the very bottom shelf.

“Ah-ha.” He says and reaches for the candy. “Perfect.”

“What is it?” Jack asks, looking over Dean’s shoulder.

“It’s delicious, is what it is.” Dean responds, standing up. He throws the candy on the belt right as the cashier starts ringing him up. “And perfect for sharing.”

Back at the bunker, Dean sits next to Jack at the library table as he works on a worksheet, candy opened in between them. The little boy swings his legs back and forth under the table and takes a piece of chocolate that Dean broke off for him. Dean, in turn, takes a piece of his own.

The bunker door opens up then, and a set of footsteps starts down the stairs.

The second Jack heard the door, his chair was screeching out from under the table. By the time his tiny legs carried him to the steps leading into the war room, Castiel was already there, picking up the excited boy for a hug. Dean sat back in his chair and watched the reunion, munching on another piece of chocolate.

Cas left on a hunt with Sam and Eileen. Low level case, something about a vortex and too many owls. They closed it in only two days, Sam and Eileen electing to stay behind for some time off spent in a cabin and that's about as far as Cas went in his text, for Dean's sake. But now, Cas has returned, and that's all he cared about at the moment.

“Oh, I missed you.” Cas says, planting a kiss on Jack’s giggling face. Jack throws his arms around Cas’ shoulders and buries his face in his dad’s neck, inhaling his scent. Cas walks towards Dean, and Dean stretches his head up, waiting for his own kiss. Cas had full intention of giving him one, until he stopped half way, sighing instead.

“Dean.” Cas says disapprovingly, and stands back up.

“What, what’d I do?” Dean questions defensively, lowkey slighted at being deprived of his kiss. Cas just presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows, looking past his husband and down at the table.

Dean follows his stare, right at the bright yellow wrapping that was peeling all around him. He looks back to find Cas looking at him now, Jack still perched on his hip. Dean grabs the almost halfway gone chocolate bar and breaks off a piece, offering it to the angel.

“It’s a Toblerone.” Dean explains, knowing that that’s not the response Castiel wanted. “Want one?”

Jack whips his head up from Cas’ shoulder. “I do!”

Cas is quicker than Dean. “No Jack, no more sweets.”

Jack does his pout again, this time dropping his chin on Cas’ shoulder, but he knows Cas is more final than his other dad. Cas gives Dean the look, the one that says see what you did? though it had no real heat. Dean just shrugs cheekily, earning an eye roll.

It’s when Cas turns away from Dean, that he receives his revelation. He’s still holding up the pointed chocolate, which just so happened to match up with Cas’ profile at that moment.

“Hey look,” Dean says, delighted as all get out. He stands up just as Cas turns back to Dean.

“What?” Cas asks, clearly tired and wanting to go get his son some real food. Dean closes one of his eyes and holds up the piece of candy.

“Jack, buddy,” Dean calls out to his son, “doesn’t this look familiar?”

Jack, to his credit, turns his head to look, still pouting. But when he sees what Dean is doing, he lifts his head, looking between the candy in Dean’s fingers and Cas’ face. Then, he starts laughing. “What?” Cas asks, more confused now as he alternates looking between his husband and child. “What??”

“Your nose looks like candy, daddy.” Jack giggles behind his hands.

Cas’ face is scrunched in confusion as he regards his son and just as he turns to Dean for clarification, the hunter has already stepped right into his space, where he plants a big kiss right on Cas’ nose. And as he’s distracted, Dean pops the chocolate into Jack’s awaiting mouth.

Cas is still confused when Dean pulls away, but it’s overshadowed by the sheer amount of fondness in his eyes. He gives Dean a real kiss then, both of them smiling into it.

“My turn!” is all the warning they get before Jack’s tiny hands are pulling Cas’ face towards him, his entire nose getting engulfed by his son’s mouth.

Jack is going ahhh, voice muffled by his dad’s face, as Cas tries to pull him off, no Jack, what did we say about biting!

Dean watches it all happen, laughing, and breaks off another piece of chocolate.

And so it goes.

#destiel #baby jack #my writing #i hope it’s cute enough lol

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invisibleraven · 9 months

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Haunted Holidays

December 22: Christmas Tree <- AO3 link!

As it got closer to the holiday season, everyone could see that Reggie was getting a bit morose. Usually he was gung ho about celebrating the season, decking the halls and baking up a storm.

But not this year.

This year he had to put MeeMaw into a home-her mind was deteriorating fast and she couldn’t be left to her own devices any longer. That meant dealing with closing up the farm until his uncle could either take it over or sell it. Dealing with the woman who practically raised him no longer knowing who he was.

So he didn’t see much point in celebrating. Thus his partners decided to do something to cheer him up.

“Why don’t we go out and get a real tree this year?” Willie suggested. “I remember you telling me you lived that as a kid.”

“We have a tree though,” Reggie replied. “That gigantic pre-lit thing that Carrie bought.”

“We can have a real one this year,” Carrie assured him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I don’t mind.”

“I’ll see if I can find a reputable tree farm in the area,” Alex piped up. “So we can chop it down and everything.”

“I don’t know about trusting any of you with an axe,” Julie stated.

“Hey I know how to use an axe!” Reggie protested. “I had to chop wood for the farm all the time!”

“Fine,” Julie amended, “I don’t trust anyone who isn’t Reggie with an axe.”

“That’s fair,” Luke quipped. “I can tie it up after though, since I was actually an Eagle Scout.”

“For like a week,” Alex scoffed.

“I learned the knots, didn't I?” Luke retorted with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“I don’t think Shibari and tree tying knots are quite the same,” Kayla shouted from the laundry room. Everyone pointed in her direction, causing Luke to pout until Julie fluffed his hair and told him his knots were great.

“So we’re really doing this?” Reggie clarified, but it looked like he was perking up, so they all nodded. “Sweet!”

That weekend they found themselves bundled up and ready to go. Kayla had to work, but wished them luck. Flynn and Carrie had bowed out, not being fond of the outdoors but promised to make a popcorn chain and some hot chocolates for when they came back. “Just come back with all your limbs and digits!” Flynn called as they piled into Reggie’s truck.

“So, where to?” Reggie asked Willie and Alex. They had the map on their laps, and were quietly debating between themselves.

“Willie here wants us to just head into the woods, and find the perfect tree,” Alex explained, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But I have explained that it is often illegal, so I found some places where they invite you to come in and choose your own tree from their patch of land.”

“No jail!” Julie stated firmly. “Or hefty fines!”

“Fiiiiine,” Willie whined, and suggested the nearest farm.

“Alright people,” Alex said as they exited the truck. “We’re looking for a nice spruce tree. The firs are nicer, but also more pricey.”

“Cuz you can tell the difference,” Luke snarked under his breath, but received an elbow to the ribs for it.

They broke apart, looking amongst the unclaimed trees, but nothing was grabbing their attention. Everything was too scraggly, too short, too lopsided.

Eventually they came across a tree that looked the part, and they made a plan to get it down and to the car. Even if the skies are turning grey and foreboding. Reggie gave a mighty thwack of his axe, and it embedded itse;f in the trunk for a moment. Then he pulled it back out, ran his fingers through his hair, and did it again.

Julie whimpered at the sight, and Luke was right beside her, clutching her hand. “Man, we've got one hot partner,” he murmured. “We should take him apart later in that flannel.”

“I like the way you think,” Julie purred.

“Timber!” Reggie yelled gleefully as the tree fell. “I always wanted to say that.”

As it turned out, Luke’s knot tying skills were the best, so he was the one who went about securing the tree to the truck bed, and got Julie to double check his work, just in case.

“Great job mi vida,” she complimented him, the group of them setting back off.

Of course, getting it home was the easy part-setting it up took a lot of work, resulting in the five of them getting scratches and sap everywhere as needles littered the ground.

“I am so not cleaning that up,” Carrie said as she supervised.

“Help or leave,” Alex grunted at her.

Finally, the tree was up, even if some of them were a bit worse for wear, the smile on Reggie’s face as he took it in made the pain worth it. “Five minute break to clean up and then we trim?” Willie proposed.

Everyone agreed, and went their own ways to freshen up, coming back to Carrie and Flynn stringing lights on the tree, along with their string of popcorn. Alex turned the lofi on, playing some classic holiday music, and the group of them began to decorate.

“It’s not a bad little tree,” Flynn commented wryly.

“We did a lot better than Charlie Brown, it’s true,” Luke replied.

They finished up, flicked the lights to the room off, and stood back, oohing and aahing as they took in the splendor. And very quietly, Reggie began to cry-too many emotions swirling around in his head. But he let his partners hold him, and smiled at the tree-now and forever a symbol of the lengths they were willing to go for him.

But he’d be totally cool going back to plastic next year.

#jatpadvent2023 #the great polyphantoms polycule #julie and the phantoms

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logarhythm-bees · 1 month

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The Carousel Kingdom 🏰 CH3 Fancakes

Masterlist

Prev - Next

Virgil wakes up warm, with the distant sounds of dishes being moved about in his kitchen. He stretches and jolts a bit as his arm brushes something, sitting up quickly.

His breathing calms as he realizes it’s just Patton- right, they’d agreed to share Virgil’s bed with Roman taking up the couch. That must be Roman in the kitchen. Nice to know they didn’t opt to cause violence against Patton and Virgil while they slept.

Virgil tucks the blankets closer around Patton, who sighs sleepily and snuggles into the blankets further. Virgil elects to let him sleep longer, making his own way down to the kitchen to get some coffee and make double-extra-sure that Roman didn’t try anything while they were asleep.

When he gets to the kitchen, Virgil is startled. Not by Roman doing anything illicit, in fact, they’re washing the dishes, neatly scrubbing and drying each one before putting it away in the cabinet, dressed now in Virgil’s sweatshirt and pants and looking far less menacing than they seemed yesterday, dressed in fancy but battered uniform and standing over Virgil with straight shoulders. Now their shoulders are taught, but their posture is slumped, back hunching a little bit over the sink as they run a sponge around the rim of a glass.

“I have a dishwasher, dude, you don’t need to do that,” Virgil says, stepping into the kitchen. Roman jumps and nearly drops the glass in his hands, catching it before it can fall into the sink.

“Sorry.” Roman says, grabbing a towel to dry the glass and putting it away before stepping away from the sink sheepishly. “I just- felt like I owed you two. And there’s a not a whole lot here that I know how to do.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, you just- don’t have to do that.” Virgil says, motioning to the sink. “I mean, I appreciate it, but you don’t need to repay us. You were in trouble and needed help.”

Roman shrugs, playing with his hands where they’re tucked behind his back. “I- still, thank you. You rescued me, in any case.”

“We still gotta get you home,” Virgil says. Roman flinches. Virgil curses, internally, his stupid big mouth. He bites his tongue before it can say anything else stupid and inconsiderate.

“It’s…okay,” Roman says. “We can figure it out. Patton said we’d go back there today and see if we can find any clues.”

“Yeah,” Virgil agrees, quick to latch onto anything that can fix this conversation. He looks at the stove and the cabinet, thinking. “Uhm. Do you want pancakes?”

“Pancakes?” Roman repeats, titling his head a little like a dog. ‘I don’t think we have those in Innova.”

“Flapjacks?” Virgil asks, wondering if regional names are the issue. Roman still shakes his head. “Well, they’re good. One of the breakfasts ever, definitely. C’mon, sit, I’ll make you some.”

Roman does, carefully, sit, watching Virgil cook from one of the barstools, and Virgil focuses his attention away from being not great at conversations and into making pancakes. Flour and baking powder go into a bowl with some sugar and just a little bit of salt, then an egg and some vanilla and milk, and mix together until just combined.

“So no pancakes in your world, huh. What about blueberries? Or chocolate chips?”

Roman perks up a little at the word chocolate. “I do like chocolate chips.”

“Glad our worlds have at least a little bit of food in common,” Virgil says. “I like chocolate too.”

Roman nods as Virgil pours the batter into a pan, and the mixture sizzles as the wonderful aroma of pancakes drifts into the air.

“That smells really good,” Roman says. “It’s called a pancake? So it’s a cake you make in a pan? And this is a breakfast food?”

Virgil thinks. “Wait, you’re totally right. I never realized that. And yeah, it is kinda sweet, but y’know, sweet can be a good way to start your day.”

“Good mornin’!” Patton says almost on cue, hopping into the room. “I smell pancakes!”

“Yeah, Prince Roman here doesn’t have pancakes in their world.” Virgil says. Patton stares at Roman, affronted.

“We have chocolate, though,” Roman says in defense as Patton stares at him. Patton considers this.

“This is so good! Like it makes me go ca-cao!” Patton says, and Roman laughs as Virgil slides a pancake off of the pan and onto a plate, placing it in front of Roman, who stares at it eagerly.

“C’mon, try it. I’m not a professional cook, but I think I do pancakes pretty well,” Virgil says, handing him a fork. Roman cuts a piece off, hesitant but excited, and puts it in their mouth. Their eyes light up.

“This is excellent!” Roman says after swallowing the piece, sitting up straight and facing Virgil regally. “My many compliments to the chef.”

“Glad you like it, Princey,” Virgil says. Roman laughs, bright and amused for the first time since Virgil’s met him, and Virgil feels a weight he didn’t realize was there lift off of his chest.

It’s quickly replaced, though, as Patton looks at him and then back at Roman, stress evident on his face, unsure how to bring up what Virgil knows he wants to ask. Virgil nods, solemn, turning back to the stove.

“So about the ‘Prince’ thing,” Patton asks, softly. Roman stiffens. “Why don’t you tell us about Innova? So we can know what to look for?”

Roman swallows his next bite of pancake a lot less excitedly than the first. Their posture dulls again, setting the fork on the table and avoiding Patton’s eyes.

“Innova is… wonderful,” Roman says. “It’s bright and beautiful, and the citizens are very kind, even though we don’t have ‘pancakes’ there.” They chuckle again, but it’s more resolute, more strained.

“And you’re the prince?” Patton asks. Virgil focuses his full attention on not burning the pancakes, unwilling to look at Roman while they unfold their tale.

“Yes.” Roman says. “My father, Thomas, the king, ruled over Innova for many years. He brought me and my brother up to follow in his footsteps, but as the older twin by seven minutes, the throne would go to me when he stepped down.” Roman sighs. “Remus was never much one for ruling anyways, he’d always sneak away from lessons and courts to go roughhouse in the garden.

I had my royal advisor, Logan, helping me most of the way. I grew up alongside xem and Remus. Logan’s been preparing almost xer whole life to help me as a prince and later as king.” Roman chuckles. “Xe’s a nerd. But xe always has my back.

Last I remember, we were coming up on my coronation ceremony. Thomas wanted to allow me some experience on the throne, so I was taking over most of his duties before his official retirement. Lots of papers, and courts, and formal appearances. But last I remember, I was alone in the throne room, and then I woke up when you two found me. I really thought I was doing well, as the soon-to-be-king, ” Roman fiddles with his fork. “I’m starting to think someone disagreed.”

Patton nods, solemn, as Virgil quietly brings over the finished stack of pancakes.

“That’s rough, buddy.” Virgil says.

“Quite,” Roman says, taking a pancake from the pile.

The three eat in silence, the table etiquette lessons of Roman’s past seeping into the way they slice and eat the pancakes, shoulders poised and back high as they elegantly saw through the breakfast even with Virgil’s cheap dollar store fork.

“I think going to the junkyard is a good place to start,” Patton says, interrupting the heavy silence, “but it sounds like we’re going to need a plan. If someone wants you off the throne, Roman, I don’t know if just getting you back to your world is going to be enough. We’ve got to make sure everything’s right over there, too.”

“You’d come with me?” Roman asks, hopeful in their tone.

“Wait- I don’t know,” Virgil interrupts quickly. “Going into a whole different realm is, like, way out of my idea of normality. What if we, I don’t know, explode or something?”

“Roman’s here, and they didn’t explode.” Patton replies. “And they need our help.”

“Yeah, but…it’s just a lot.” Virgil says. “I’m not- I haven’t been trained in un-overthrowing the monarchy, I don’t know- I’m-” Virgil swallows. “I’m scared.”

“I’m scared too,” Roman says, “but you rescued me from being stuck as a carousel horse, and made me pancakes with chocolate chips in them, and you knew what to do when I had a concussion. I think you have a good heart, Virgil, and I trust you. I would be honored if you’d come and help me set my realm to rights.”

Roman is looking at him with those piercing white pupils again, which Virgil is not starting to find endearing, thank you very much. They’re interesting, that’s all, and the hopeful look Roman is giving him definitely does not make something in Virgil’s chest soften.

“Fine. If we can find the way back to your realm- I’ll see it all the way through that you’re safe on the other side.” Virgil says.

“Thank you, Virgil,” Roman smiles.They pick up a pancake. “And for helping me home too, of course.”

Virgil snorts despite himself and the absolute mess he’s sure he’s getting himself into.

It’s a lot, yeah. But Roman- Roman seems kind despite their first encounter, and Patton will be there with Virgil too. Patton is strong, and capable. Virgil can- Virgil can do this. Yeah.

#sanders sides #tss big bang 2024

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black-occamy · 1 year

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The Enchanted Cafe - Season of Pumpkin Spice

(Self-indulgent coffee shop AU. Words: 5,492 - I know, long!!!!) tags: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Sirius Black/Reader, Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin/Reader, Coffee Shops, Autumn, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Romantic Fluff, canon characters behaving canonically, with a dash of homebrew to this coffee pot, Gender Neutral Reader - Character, no y/n, alternate happy universe

Out of many obvious perks of working at a coffee shop - like actually being paid and having near unlimited access to coffee - if you had to select one, you would point to the customers you could observe. Of course, you knew all the stories about how working in customer service was a pain, people being basically just people, sure. But it has never been the case in the coffee shop that you worked for now. It was hard to explain why. All kinds of different types of beings would parade in front of the counter on any given day, but either there was some actual magic at work, or the Enchanted Cafe only attracted the polite ones.

Like the constantly smiling owner of the bookshop two streets over, an avid fan of white three-piece suits and vanilla latte. Or the mother, who would come in with twins, a boy and a girl, both of them drawing at the children's table while she drank her Saturday afternoon espresso. The solemn, tall man, who only ever ordered a single cup of the simplest black coffee and for whom you kept a lavish porcelain sugar bowl filled with sugar cubes behind the counter; he would put only one cube in his cup using pair of silver tongs and stir it slowly with left hand, while writing down rows and rows of notes in his small notebook. The older lady who had walked her cat around the neighbourhood every Monday and Thursday, and stepped in for an americano with a cookie on the side.

And then there were those two guys that made your heart skip a beat whenever they entered the shop.

The Star - Sirius x Reader (on AO3) The Moon - Remus x Reader (on AO3) The Celestial Phenomenon - Wolfstar x Reader (on AO3) (you can skip either or read all, makes more sense as a whole) (full story under cut, enjoy!)

The Star

Come to think of it, they actually started coming in for coffee around the same time. Sirius was the first to make an appearance.

You remembered it well; it was the first of the warmer days of late spring, and it was starting to get really sunny. He walked briskly into the coffee shop in full leather jacket, long sleeves and all, and for a good ten seconds you wondered what kind of person would dress like that in a weather like this. Then, when he approached the counter and flashed you a smile, you instantly knew the answer.

Hot. A hot person.

“Double espresso, to go,” he ordered, without even looking at the menu. You overcame the momentary stupor, responding with a practised salesperson grin of your own.

“Right on it! Anything else I can tempt you with? Chocolate chip cookies?”

“Hmmm, tempting indeed,” he hummed, pretending to consider the desserts on display, but you felt his eyes on you. It was quite funny, the way you suddenly felt like a rare piece of highly appreciated art. The man winked at your slightly flustered cheeks. “I'll give it a pass today, thank you very much for the suggestion.”

“Very well,” you picked up the paper cup and a pen. “What should I write on the cup for you?”

“Oh, I'm Sirius.”

“About what?”

There was a second of silence, then another and you cursed yourself internally. That kind of blunder never ever happened to you. It had to be the face of that man, that mischievous smirk pulling the corners of his lips upwards, those silvery-grey eyes that gleamed now that he began to chuckle, that line of carefully trimmed beard which highlighted his sharp cheekbones, that long black hair, falling gracefully on the leather jacket. You blinked.

“I'm extremely sorry for that! Sirius, like the star?” You forced your hand to scribble the name on the side of the cup, letters coming out sharp and uneven.

“Yeah, like the star,” he confirmed, still chuckling quietly. “Nice to meet you, Pumpkin.”

You caught his eyes reading the name tag on your lapel. One of the curious little quirks of the coffee shop was that each worker was expected to pick a name for themselves. It had to be related to coffee in any way, proper - obviously - and it would be used among the staff and towards the customers instead of real names. You liked the idea and you became Pumpkin Spice without a second thought.

On a third thought, however, exactly at this moment, you wished you had picked something else. Something more classy, perhaps.

Like Espresso.

“The pleasure is all mine, Sirius.” The coffee dispenser whirred its happy grinding tune. “That would be 8.50.”

Sirius put a 20 bill on the counter and as he waved dismissively when you reached for the change, you noticed his fingers and wrists were adorned with sharp, black lines of tattoos.

“See you around!”

It was maybe a week later when he paraded in again, the same leather jacket on his shoulders, the same grin on his handsome face. This time there was a small queue in front of the counter and while you talked to other customers, you allowed yourself a few discreet glances in his direction, taxing his silhouette in more detail. He was tall, slender in that subtle way that he could pretend not to work out if he didn't want to. Raven black hair fell loosely on his shoulders, and every now and again he'd run his fingers through it, pushing it back. Under the leather of his jacket, his shirt was nonchalantly unbuttoned on the top, black line of tattoos showing over his clavicles as well.

When Sirius finally approached the counter, he rested his elbow against it casually and you noticed that one of the tattoos on his left palm was a small paw print, like that of a dog.

“Hello, Pumpkin,” he flashed you the same smile as before.

“Good afternoon, Sirius. What can I tempt you with today?”

“Again with the cookies?”

You smiled and performed an exaggerated shrug, pointing with your open arms to the display counters around.

“We at the Enchanted Cafe are dedicated to tempt you with all sorts of sweets,” you recited. “Along with a large selection of assorted coffee, ready to put a spell on your taste buds.”

He laughed - and it was a laughter designed to melt the knees of those affected. Your knees were ready to gleefully oblige.

“Double espresso to go, please! You will find me not easily tempted,” he declared, winking.

You prepared a cup, adorned his name with little stars above both "i's" and accepted the exact same tip as before.

He came in several more times over the following week or two. "Double espresso to go" became a regular order and you found yourself preparing a cup with stars on it every morning if it wasn't already there. Sometimes, if there was no queue, he would chat you up and you would learn something about his taste in music (you shared an interest there) or his motorcycle (that he once parked in view of the cafe window and damn, that machine was gorgeous).

Then, when summer started in full, Sirius ditched his leather for a sleeveless black shirt.

Unsurprisingly, his tattoos extended to his arms and visible portion of the chest. Equally unsurprisingly, you found them extremely attractive. Along with the rest of him, naturally.

“I can see that the weather has forced a change,” you remarked casually when he walked in on that first day of summer, and Sirius grinned widely at you.

“Is it a good change or a bad change in your opinion, Pumpkin?”

“That depends,” you picked up the cup that had waited for him for two full days. “Will I be able to tempt you for a summer special coffee?”

“Let's hear it!” He leaned over the counter, as per his usual manner, and a subtle mixture of sweat, petrol and spicy cologne drifted towards you, somehow discernible among the overwhelming aroma of coffee.

“We have a mint-and-chocolate scented blend, ideal to go on ice or with milk,” you wondered briefly if white coffee was even his thing. “The official name is 'too cool for school', by the way.”

“For real?” Sirius chuckled. “Or are you making it up as you go?”

“You're offending my honour as a barista, good sir.”

“My most heartfelt apologies!” Theatrically, he took a step back and bowed. There was a subtle grace to the movement, something that told you he had been practising etiquette for years. “Although it does sound like my type of coffee, Pumpkin. Consider me tempted.”

“I'll write it down as an achievement in my diary,” you grinned. “On ice? Or do you want to experiment with double espresso? I should warn you, the aroma gets sharp.”

“Do you get to write two achievements if I decide on ice?”

“I get to write three if you order the cookie as well.”

The way he smiled always made you grin in return and that was the most natural grin you ever had - not the polite, trained smile of the barista, but something more… real.

“Not today, Pumpkin, not today... Summer special on ice only, please.”

“You know I will keep on trying,” you puffed with pretend offence and he winked at you when you handed him the freezing cup, perspiration in the air already shimmering on the sides. It’s a policy to put the cutlery on the counter or directly on the table, but before you did, Sirius caught it mid-air from your hand and just for a brief second your fingers connected with his tattooed ones.

For some reason you kept thinking about that for a long time and from that moment on, whenever he ordered the summer special on ice, your fingers touched. Again. And again.

You almost didn't want the summer to be over, wondering if the “double espresso to go” will replace this little ritual of yours. Sometimes you pondered if Sirius had ever noticed, or if he just kept picking the cup from your hand and walking out towards his motorcycle oblivious to the spark of joy that he had yet again brought into your day.

The Moon

There was another reason for you to smile widely when you prepared the shop each morning before it opened for the customers. It was reflected in a small collection of neatly stacked receipts that you kept in an envelope at the side of your breakroom drawer. The receipts themselves were as insignificant as they could be - each one for the exact same cappuccino on rice milk, no extras. But each one had a small, pencil drawing at the back. It was always something simple: sometimes a cup on the table, a car visible from the cafe window, or a book that he was reading, but there was something soft and warm in the graphite lines that made you feel equally soft and warm on the inside.

First time Remus paid a visit to the Enchanted Cafe there was no receipt yet, however. You spotted him in the queue of regulars that was attended to by Latte when you came back from your break. It was raining and the coffee shop was packed full of people not entirely ready to go and face the weather. Umbrellas in the stands and several coats were drying on the side, adding a unique scent of moisture to the air full of mingling conversations.

You took the queue over from Latte before Remus had approached the counter and you had just enough time to take a good look at him. He was tall, probably a little bit taller than Sirius (well, you DO have a type), with long, slender limbs. His patched-up coat seemed to be a bit too loose for his body. Brown, curly hair was marked with ashen grey on the sides, even though he didn’t seem old at all - maybe late twenties? Early thirties? When you greeted him and he gave you a small, apologetic smile, you noticed his honey-coloured eyes had tiny wrinkles in the corners.

But what had your curiosity piqued was the scar that cut diagonally through his face. It started above his left brow, arched across the nose and right cheek almost to the corner of his thin lips. You allowed yourself only one stare, as discreet as you could in the circumstances.

“Good morning, what can I tempt you with today?”

“I'd like a cappuccino, please,” his voice was rich and soft, somehow bringing about an image of a warm blanket and a fireplace. “Do you have any vegan options?”

“Absolutely!” you mentally listed the content of the fridge. “We have soy, almond and rice at the moment.”

There was a short moment of hesitation from him, and as you looked at his face expectantly, you noticed that the scar was just a central one of three. Much less prominent, two other long gashes were visible in regular proximity from one another. It sort of looked like a huge claw mark.

“Are any of those options paid extra?” He asked finally and you shook your head.

“Absolutely not. Regardless of the milk type, cappuccino will put you at 6.20,” you explained, then added after a sudden afterthought. “There is no price difference between having coffee in or taking it to go, either.”

“Thank you... Pumpkin Spice?”

“That's me.”

“Unusual,” he smiled softly and his eyes gleamed with golden sparks. “I might take the opportunity to enjoy the coffee inside, but not today. A cappuccino with rice milk to go, please.”

You nodded and picked up a paper cup.

“It's not often this packed,” you remarked, seeing how he kept glancing around with that awkward unease some people displayed when in a crowd. “What should I write on your cup?”

Another slight pause, reluctant and a little wary. You knew that kind of silence - an introvert in the wild. You sympathised.

“Enchanted Cafe believes in a personal approach to customers,” you made your best effort to sound light and encouraging, “but I could swear some of the things I write on those cups are most definitely not the real names. There's this one older guy who always asks for his coffee to be signed 'Real Elvis' and, mind, there's not even a trace of resemblance.”

He chuckled softly in response, visibly disarmed.

“My name is Remus, thank you for this... insightful piece of trivia.”

“Humour is completely free of charge, Remus,” you grinned and the coffee machine whirred gleefully. “That will be 6.20.”

He meticulously counted the coins and picked the cup into his hand. You noticed that his wrist also carried thin lines of three diagonal scars, almost completely faded against the skin.

“It was an absolute delight to chat with you, Pumpkin, thank you.”

“Pleasure was all mine. Until next time!”

As it were, the next time happened on one of the following mornings. Remus came into the cafe looking quite exhausted, his face pale with bags under his gentle eyes. You were familiar with the look. After all, it was a coffee shop and people worked all kinds of hours.

“Good morning, Remus. You look like you could use a solid espresso today,” you remarked lightly and smiled at the look on his face.

“Good morning, Pumpkin. I'm surprised you remembered my name.”

“It's a very nice name,” you reached for the paper cup. “Plus, my memory is insanely good when it comes to my customers. Cappuccino with rice milk to go?”

You watched his eyebrows rise in an incredulous expression.

“Insanely good indeed... However, I was actually looking forward to spending some time here, I have about an hour to spare.”

You beamed at him gleefully. “Splendid! Would you like the same coffee or can I tempt you with a seasonal special?”

“Same, please.”

“Cookie? Cupcake? We have vegan options too.”

Remus smiled softly and shook his head.

“Thank you for this consideration, but I will pass.”

“Sure thing! It will be 6.20, please take a seat wherever you like and I'll bring your coffee momentarily,” you smiled widely at him, some part of you sensing that he needed the positive vibes.

Keeping that in mind, you selected a cup with celestial motifs on the side and when you put it on the table next to Remus, you rotated it so that the yellow drawing of the sun was facing him.

“For a good day,” you said and he gave you one more tired smile from above the book he was reading.

Remus left some time later and while you were cleaning the table, you found the receipt tucked under the saucer, with a pencil drawing of the sun and the words 'Here's to hoping'.

He became a regular after that, usually visiting on mornings, reading a different book every week. Most of the time you only exchanged a few sentences and you would leave him in the corner next to bookshelves in peace. On occasion, when the coffee shop was less crowded, you discreetly watched him read from behind the counter. Remus, while reserved and collected when you talked, was what you referred to as 'an emotional reader'. By far, he was not the only one you saw - people would often bring their books or pick up any of those you had on the shelves. But there was something both vulnerable and exhilarating in the way a range of emotions crossed his handsome, scarred face when he read. You watched him smile to the pages, knit his brows, pick on his moustache and drum his fingers on the surface of the table. You imagined the stories he saw in his head and, for some reason, you also envisioned a comfortable sofa next to a fireplace and his long arm wrapped around your shoulder as you were reading the same book together.

The softness and warmth of that imaginary scene lingered with you throughout the summer, as you collected his drawings on the back of each receipt. You never did anything to act upon it. It was a pleasure that you enjoyed silently in your mind, a small cosy thought that made your heart flutter whenever Remus entered the cafe. You tried to reflect that through the selection of cups you picked for him every time - especially on those mornings when he came in looking twice as tired as anyone else. The sun was there often, so was the moon, and your personal favourite - a set of cups adorned with quills and ink pots. Somehow, you made it a sort of a challenge to bring a smile to his face on those days and each time you accomplished one, it was worth more to you than almost anything else in the world.

The Celestial Phenomenon

The summer ended in a string of warm days that slowly gave way to cool mornings and evenings. You knew it was over one late afternoon when a deep roar of the motorcycle announced Sirius’ arrival and you watched him saunter into the near-empty coffee shop in his regular leather jacket. On the inside you sighed with regret. On the outside you smiled, waiting for him to approach the counter. Uncharacteristically of him, he was looking around the place, as if searching for someone.

Whoever that was, however, they weren’t inside yet.

“Hiya, Pumpkin!” Sirius leaned over the counter and flashed you one of his grins.

“Good afternoon to you too, Sirius!” In a way you had been dreading this moment for weeks now, but it was time. “I’m sorry to inform you that our summer special is no longer on the menu.”

“Figures, what with the weather changing, and all,” he patted the side of his jacket, winking as if the two of you were real co-conspirators. “I suppose it’s back to my favourite double kick then?”

“Unless…” your throat tightened for a second. “I could tempt you with our replacement autumn special, perhaps?”

You saw it. Sirius’ eyes flashed towards the menu over your head, reading the words in a fraction of a second.

“Oh?” He locked his silver eyes with you, a mischievous smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Please tell me what that is. I’m extremely invested in hearing you say it.”

“There is no doubt in my heart that you are,” you replied, sighing. You were a seasoned salesperson, dammit. You could say it to this gorgeous man without fainting, for sure. “Can I tempt you with our very own, magical pumpkin spice scented coffee blend? Goes really well with milk and gets really spicy as an espresso.”

“I thought you’d never ask, Pumpkin.”

You almost choked on the next sentence, “To go, I presume?”

His laughter was doing something really weird to your knees.

“To leave and not have the pleasure of watching this delightful fluster?” Sirius teased and you rolled your eyes theatrically. “In fact, I’m meeting with someone here today. It seems I got here first, though.”

“I suppose I’m an architect of my own anguish,” you said with mock self-pity, even though your heart sank somewhat at his words and the dreamy, far-off look that crossed his face for a moment. “Milk, no milk? Cookies and such?”

Sirius shook his head. “Double spicy espresso sounds amazing enough.”

“Coming right up. Please take a seat wherever you like and I’ll be there with your order momentarily.”

When you fumbled to pick a cup for him, your gaze fell on the paper one that you prepared earlier, stars and everything. For a second you pondered whether Sirius meeting with someone would be an end to something for you. Something less tangible than a cup of frosty summer special. Something like a wistful daydream of the black-haired man on his motorcycle, smiling at you. For you.

The coffee machine buzzed comfortingly as the aroma of cinnamon filled you with its familiar sense of calm. What will be, will be. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that Sirius took a table for two next to the window. It gave him a good view both at the counter and the entrance door.

“Double espresso pumpkin spice for you.”

You placed the cup on the table in front of him right when the doorbell rang, announcing another customer. A spark appeared in Sirius’ eyes when he spotted the person coming in and for a split second you didn’t want to turn around. You did, of course.

It was Remus.

“Oi, Moony!” Sirius called and Remus' head snapped in the direction immediately. He noticed you and you smiled lightly as Sirius passed by, catching the other man in a quick embrace.

“Really, Padfoot...” Remus sighed under his breath, loud enough for you to hear. His face, visible from an angle, was a mixture of joy and fluster.

You tried to casually edge back behind the counter, distancing yourself from their exchange of greetings. There was something distinctly intimate in the way Sirius rested his tattooed hand on his companion's arm and in the way Remus' head leaned in his direction. You could tell those two knew each other for a long time.

Long and close enough to become familiar and aware of each other's bodies. You’ve rarely seen this kind of connection and it was something that deep in your heart you kept dreaming about.

“Did you wait?”

“Just came in,” Sirius glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “Pumpkin has been telling me about their autumn special, I'm pretty sure you're going to love it.”

“I am?” Remus smiled at you, and you returned the grin.

“Please don't mind me and good afternoon, Remus! I'll be at the counter whenever you are ready to place your order.”

“No time like the present,” Sirius clapped his hands together, pushing the other man gently towards you. “My treat, so… anything you want, Moony.”

“Sirius, honestly…” There was something reticent in Remus’ voice and in your mind you recalled his receipts, each one exactly the same, no extras.

“Enough!” Sirius laughed. “I told you we’re here to celebrate and celebrate we shall. Pumpkin, don’t let him wiggle out of it. We will take cake and coffee, and anything else you can tempt us with.”

“Fine by me,” you grinned. “But only if Remus is okay with it as well. I would not want to force any sort of sweets on anyone.”

“Oh, for… Fine!” Remus took a long inhale, closing his eyes for a moment. Small smile appeared on his lips. “But please remember, vegan options only and…”

“...no cocoa, because of allergies,” Sirius finished smoothly. “Any recommendations, Pumpkin?”

You took a quick glance at the treats on display, a little cleaned out now at the end of the day.

“There are fruit tarts, muffins and a carrot cake that I can readily suggest.”

“All of it.”

“Padfoot!” Remus gasped and Sirius grinned at him with that disarming smile of his.

“All of it! Pumpkin, don’t listen to him.”

“That’s quite a celebration you two are having,” you noted, trying to discern whether Remus was actually on board with the plethora of sweets that was just ordered. You noted his brown eyes shooting you a look that was both slightly embarrassed and secretly pleased.

“I… I have a new job,” he said in an apologetic tone. Sirius threw his arm around his companion’s shoulders.

“Way to downplay achieving your dream, Moony!”

“Oh, please…”

“Either way,” you decided to gently interrupt, “I understand that congratulations are in order, Remus. Please accept mine as well.”

“Thank you, Pumpkin,” he replied with a smile, as Sirius rubbed his shoulder gleefully. “So… about that autumn special…”

“Absolutely,” you caught a wink that Sirius made explicitly at you and fought the urge to wink back. “Would you be tempted by your regular cappuccino on rice milk, but with a dash of pumpkin spice?”

You saw him stiffen a little, confusion flashing across his face for a moment, until Sirius leaned in.

“The coffee is scented, Moony,” he announced in a conspiratorial whisper and Remus shuddered visibly, as if waking up from a thought. You watched it, trying to understand what was going on. “Like I said, I knew you’d love the idea.”

“Of course, pumpkin spice, autumn, makes sense,” Remus said quickly. “Such a wonderful seasonal tradition, isn’t it?”

“Are you a fan of autumn, Pumpkin?” Sirius turned his silver eyes on you and something deep in your soul made an unhealthy squeal.

“I thought it was obvious, I did choose the name myself,” you smiled, watching Remus absent-mindedly rub the back of his neck. “If you two could take a seat at the table, I will go about preparing your celebration feast. Two of each dessert, I assume?”

“You know it! Go on, Moony, I’ll take care of the rest…”

Remus opened his mouth as if ready to comment on it somehow, but gave up and shook his head with a sigh. Sirius gave him a gentle slap on the shoulder and leaned over the counter towards you.

“Care to tell me what was that about?” You asked in a low whisper through the unchanged smile on your face.

“Whatever do you mean, Pumpkin?” His eyebrows rose in a surprised expression that you couldn’t decide was genuine or not. It made you hesitate. You could have been imagining something that wasn’t there and asking a question would make an idiot out of yourself. Was it even possible…

Something glimmered in Sirius’ eyes and you decided to withdraw.

“You could have told me that you wanted to throw a feast,” you chided quietly. “I would have prepared it before Remus arrived. But, no worries!” You added, when he straightened up. “I’ll get it done in no time.”

“I’m sorry, Pumpkin, I didn’t really…”

“It’s fine, completely fine! Forget I even mewled about it,” you said with a grin, pulling a cup from the cupboard. The sun-and-moon celestial cup that you usually picked for Remus on his visits. “I’ll bring everything to the table in a moment, don’t you worry.”

For a second or two Sirius stared at you thoughtfully, his eyes narrowed, as if he was considering saying something. Or maybe you imagined it. You definitely did.

“You’re right, I could have warned you,” he said finally with a rueful grin. “Will do it next time, promise.”

You waved your hand, regretting that you even started the subject. It was a lousy attempt to redirect the conspiratorial whisper you led with and now you were quite angry with yourself. It wasn’t Sirius’ fault. You watched as he placed a considerable amount of money on the counter, far more than the order's cost, and shook his head when you turned to the cash register.

“Really, Sirius…”

“Not you too!” He laughed. “Please, Pumpkin, you deserve it. You have never been anything less but a delight to either of us.”

You froze. Sirius was still smiling, knowingly. You suddenly realised that they must have talked about you sometime earlier. They knew each other. They must have. It was difficult to decide at this moment if the realisation was more of a surprise or…

A delight.

Next hour or so passed in a dreamlike haze. You bid goodbye to a few passing customers and began to slowly clean up the shop, while the two men you grew so fond of were chatting quietly at the table, slowly going through the desserts. Afternoon turned into evening and you realised that closing time was getting nearer. You didn’t want it to happen. There was something exciting that filled the air in your lungs, as if simply being in proximity to both of them together made the world a slightly better place.

Eventually, you approached their table. “I am really sorry, but it’s getting late,” they both looked up, silver and brown eyes locking at your face. “It’s been a pleasure to host you in Enchanted Cafe. I hope everything was to your liking?”

The words felt insincere, maybe for the first time since you have been working here. You wanted to keep watching them. The golden gleam in Remus’ eyes when Sirius was telling him something quietly. The movement of Sirius’ hand, just lightly touching the fingers of the other man. There was something enthralling in the connection that you witnessed. You wished that you were a part of it, even as a spectator, for the rest of your life.

“Pumpkin…” Remus began, but his voice trailed off. Sirius smiled at you.

“Could you sit with us for a moment?” He asked and you found it difficult to respond with your suddenly tightened throat.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand…”

“Please,” Sirius stood up, offering you his chair. “Just for a moment. We hope that you could settle one debate for us.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Pads, you’re making it awkward,” Remus complained, and you noticed his cheeks were reddening slightly.

“I’m not!” Sirius scoffed. “I just wanted to show some manners, for once. Don’t you always grumble about that?”

Remus rolled his eyes but said nothing. You couldn’t help but smile, even though you were rapidly losing your train of thought.

“What debate?”

Sirius grinned at you. “A hypothetical question, Pumpkin. If you were to go to dinner with one of us, which one would it be?”

You didn’t hear that right.

“Wait, what?”

“If you were to…”

“Both,” you blurted out before Sirius had the chance to finish the sentence. For a long moment they stared at you in complete silence. Remus’ brows rose up while Sirius’ smile widened. “I don’t see why I would want to choose between the two of you. It’s both or none.”

“Wow,” was all Sirius replied with. Remus didn’t say a word.

“Not what you expected?” You grinned. “As far as hypotheticals go, I suppose the debate remains unsolved. Sorry to disappoint. Now, I really, really need to start closing, so if I could kindly ask you to…”

Your voice trailed off into silence when neither of them moved. They exchanged glances again and Remus laughed. It was a warm laughter, pouring over the silence like honey. You realised that you never heard it before.

“Dearest Pumpkin, what if it was not a hypothetical?” He asked finally, getting up and reaching out towards you with his hand. On your other side Sirius mirrored that gesture, his silver eyes regarding you with intensity you have not seen before. You hesitated just for a fraction of a second, before reaching out to both of them, feeling their fingers close around your palms. It was most likely not a dream.

“Both,” you repeated, a little hoarsely. “But there will be no dinner until the cafe is closed, so you two either help me with the dishes or… Dunno, wait here? Is that even an offer for tonight or…”

“If you agree, yeah,” Sirius smiled, leaning just a tiny bit closer to you. You felt your heart flutter in your chest, threatening to stop or explode, you weren’t sure. Their hands were warm and amazingly real, sharing that warmth of their connection that you watched all afternoon.

Autumn was off to a surprising start, it seemed.

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artzee-bee · 3 years

Text

Now and for eternity| Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer ( netflix)

Request:” Can you write an imagine where Lucifer’s wife is like this well known social light that owns her own luxury fashion brand and she starts receiving gifts from an obsessed secret admirer and Lucifer is unknowingly being targeted by the secret admirer who is trying to kill Lucifer in order to get the reader and Lucifer thinks it’s his father trying to ‘strike’ him down for some unknown reason until Chloe point out someone that correlates with the readers secret admirer and Lucifer’s attacker. Feeling some type away about it Lucifer decides to taunt the secret admirer by upping the PDA and romantic gestures getting a kick out in it much to Chloe’s dismay. And once the secret admirer is caught Lucifer rubs it in their face that the reader is his for now and all of eternity before showing the secret admirer his true face. ”

Genre: fluff? I guess

Warnings:death threats, stalking, attempted murder

~~~

It wasn’t unusual to receive gifts and flowers at your office. After all, with the job you worked and the wealthy people you collaborated with, the presents simply represented one of the many perks of being a designer. Except, one friday morning, while examining a particularly beautiful bouquet of pink lilies, you noticed the little card that came with it

“I know they are some of your favorite - <3 “

Usually, work associates would leave a name. Some way for you to know that they value your work and are thinking of you (and maybe to flatter you into giving them a discount), but there was no name on this card, just a tiny heart in a glittery, pink gel pen. Pink lilies were, indeed, your favorite.

You brought the flowers home and told your husband, Lucifer, all about the mysterious gift. You had talked to your secretary and even she didn’t know where the flowers came from, since no one came to drop off lilies that morning. You presumed the sender must have simply forgotten to sign the card, and perhaps your secretary had forgotten about them, with the busy morning she’d had. You and Lucifer had a laugh, imagining the shy and anxious intern that was probably assigned the job, and the scolding they’ll get when their boss finds out about their mistake.

The next morning, a box of your favorite chocolates were waiting for you on your desk. There wasn’t any note, just the same heart, written in the same glitter pen. You dismissed it as a weird coincidence and moved on to working on your designs.

Without you knowing, this also happened to be the first time Lucifer would be faced with a very interesting note. As he was getting ready to leave the police station, he noticed a piece of yellow paper, stuck to his windshield

“Back off of Y/N. Consider this your first and last warning” no signature. Anyone in Lucifer’s place would have lost their shit, but he paid it no mind. He was the devil after all! If anyone wants to take his precious Y/N away from him, well, they can try. It would make things all the more fun. He folded the paper and stuffed it in his pocket before heading home.

The couple shared Y/N’s chocolates that night, talking about who this person might be. Lucifer wasn’t as amused as he had been the night before, if anything he was rather concerned but he didn’t want to say anything about the note to Y/N, because she would freak out.

Nothing really happened for the next week. Anonymous gifts stopped showing up at Y/N’s office, Lucifer didn’t get any more notes and things were falling back in their place, until the day right after Y/N’s latest photoshoot went public and viral. It was all to promote her upcoming clothing line. As soon as she walked into the office the next day, she spotted a red, velvet box, the size of a notebook, in the middle of her desk. On top of it, a note written in the same glittery pink as the other gifts

“Congratulations on your new line. Those photos are gorgeous - J.P. <3”

Inside the box was a gorgeous diamond necklace, looking like it was worth millions. If you hadn’t been concerned about the sudden apparition of all these gifts so far, you sure were now. You immediately called your husband to tell him about the mysterious jewelry, but he didn’t pick up. Unbeknown to you, he was busy ranting to detective Decker.

“I mean, not to be dramatic, detective, but the situation does feel like it’s spiralling out of control. Death threats, sure, those come every other weekend, kind of like fanmail, y’know? But actual gun shots fired at my head, well, that’s where I draw the line.” he ended with a giggle. Lucifer was leaning on Decker’s desk as she was examining the bullet casings Lucifer had brought her from his apparent ‘attempted assasination’

“Where did this happen again?” she said, not taking her eyes off of her work

“Right by that coffee shop ms. Lopez always talks about. I may have lost a bet to her the other day and have to get her coffee for the rest of the week, so I was just exiting the shop when a masked man in a dark blue BMW zoomed by, pointing his gun at me and shooting blindly. I mean, that is the most basic attemp at murder I have ever witnessed. At least make it interesting!”

“Lucifer, if someone is out for your life, it’s serious business”

“Why would it be? It’s not like I can actually die, detective! Plus, it’s probably not that deep anyways. Just, dear old dad coming after me again for no particular reason. Very characteristic of him.”

“ You’re getting ahead of yourself. Whoever sent this wants you and Y/N apart, why would your dad want that?”

“Because he’s a prick who disagrees with everything and anything that makes me happy?” Lucifer concludes with an innocent smile “And, of course, Y/N being moral, our marriage goes against the heavenly rules of the almighty, so he’s trying to break us apart, but worry not detective! Me and Y/N are stronger and more in love than ever. My father will simply have to accept that. Nothing will break us apart” he said, puffing his chest out with confidence

“That’s good to hear Lucifer, but I still think we should stay open to different possibilities”

“Oh, come on detective, that would be a waste of our time. I know my father better than anyone, believe me when I tell you this is his hand and no one else's. Case closed! Now, let’s move to the next one! Chop chop detective, murders won’t solve themselves!” Lucifer said, marching out of the precinct. Chloe rolled her eyes at her partner, before hiding the bullets and the note in her desk and going after him.

Although it didn’t bother you, you couldn’t help but notice how much more touchy Lucifer had been with you, ever since the necklace incident. He needed to touch you at all times: when you were out for coffee, at lunch, at the station, in your office, in Lux. His hand was always either around your waist or tangled in yours. You felt sort of bad, thinking he must be a little insecure with this secret admirer being after you at all times, but you wanted him to know that you loved him more than anything and that no matter what, you would never leave him for a faceless man, no matter how many pearls and chocolates he bribes you with. And so, you decided to play along with him, giving him as much attention as you could. Your visits at the station almost doubled, you always cleared your schedule to make time for him and even decided to start work later in the day than usual, so you could spend more time with him in the morning.

One afternoon, as you were enjoying your time with Decker and Lucifer during their lunch time, one of the notes from your secret admirer slipped out of your pocket. You didn’t realise it until Chloe picked it up

“Oh, I was going to throw that out”

“Where’s this from?” she asked, studying the note

“Just one of this week's gifts” you confessed awkwardly. Without a second thought, the detective reached for her drawer, pulling out another note from inside and inspecting them side by side. Eventually, she placed them both in front of Lucifer

“Notice something interesting about the writing?”

“They are remarkably similar…”

“More like identical”

“What is that?” you asked, looking at the unknown note. Your heart sank as you read it

“I’ll explain everything at home dear, I swear” Lucifer said

“You’ve received death threats because of me?”

“I’ll tell you everything at home, I promise”

“You have initials…” Decker noticed

“Yeah, ever since my photoshoot, they’re present on every package”

“What floor is your office on again?”

“5th, why?”

“How can someone enter your office every morning without anyone, not even your secretary noticing, and exit just as mysteriously?” “Unless he found a different way in” Lucifer replied

“My window” you realise “You can step out directly onto the emergency staircase from there”

“He knew when to sneak in without being seen, so he must have known your schedule like the back of his hand. Who could know?”

“The only people who know it are my secretary and Lucifer”

“A stalker?” your husband suggested

“Maybe” Decker turned quickly to her computer “I’m going to check any business owners around that neighbourhood who could have had a close shot of when you enter and exit your studio, see if any initially match the ones on the notes. We’ll go from there”

You thanked Chloe for the help and went home with Lucifer, who spent the entire car ride explaining the note to you and the events of the previous days. You were angry at him for keeping all of it away from you, but ultimately happy that he was safe. You spent the night drinking wine and rewatching all of your comfort movies, to calm your nerves.

You decided to try working from home for the next couple of days, too scared by the idea of a stranger following your every move. It was a challenging process but Lucifer did his best in helping you get accustomed to this new routine. His homemade meals could not compare to anything you would eat while in a meeting with your business associates. Plus, the company was much more delightful.

Chloe texted you, almost a week later, to come down to the station as quickly as possible. They had found the guy. You hopped into your car and when you finally arrived, Lucifer was waiting for you outside

“They found him?”

“Yes dear, they did”

“How?”

“Well, as it turns out he lived in the apartment building next door. His living room window had a great view of everything happening in your office. We’ve found a week’s worth of gifts he was planning to deliver. It’s him for sure”

“Thank you” you whispered before collapsing into Lucifer’s arms and hugging him tight

“It’s alright lovely. It’s over now. Let’s go see how the detective is handling it. I think they’re in the interrogation room now.”

From behind the glass, you watched the man that threatened your marriage and your husband's life, confess to everything. Admit to stalking you, in order to learn your schedule. Break into your office and open fire on Lucifer. More than enough to get him behind bars for a long time. Decker and Lucifer got up and were ready to leave, but your husband requested a couple of minutes alone with the man. The detective agreed, cautioning him to not do something stupid, before leaving them alone. Lucifer turned on his heels to face the man in handcuffs and you could instantly tell he was furious

“Truly an honorable try. Y/N is one of a kind, you were right about that, the only detail you missed is that, you see, she’s taken. By me” the mischievous smile on his face let you know that he was up to no good “Our bond is indestructible and it’s really laughable to think that you’ve risked so much to tear us apart when you didn’t stand a chance to begin with” Lucifer leaned over the table, now his back was facing you “Me and Y/N are, and forever will be, together. There is nothing you or anyone else can do to change that. She is mine and I am hers, now and for eternity” as his little speech came to an end, you noticed the man in handcuffs go pale with terror. He began shaking in his chair, screaming incoherently about the devil. Even tho you hadn’t see what your husband did, you could tell by the man’s reaction. You laughed to yourself, not even mad that Lucifer had used his devil face against this man. You would have done the same if you had the option.

#lucifer netflix #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar fluff #lucifer morningstar

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runawayface · 2 years

Text

Fic - Harold/Amy

Title: Not a Lunch Date

Word Count: 3,893

Summary: The first day back at the office since they started dating, Harold and Amy try to navigate how to handle their relationship.

Notes: Hadn't written for Harold in quite some time, I needed to correct that. I'd been neglecting him for too long. So, have some absolutely shameless fluff. For those unfamiliar with Harold, he is the OC identical twin brother of Harvey, made up by @coindraws and myself. Best place to find out more would probably be his first appearance, HERE. Enjoy!

~*~

Fall 8, Year 3

It was the first day back to work since her date with Harold. It was impossible to say how this new romantic relationship would affect Harold and Amy’s working relationship, but Amy was nervous to find out. As usual, Amy arrived at the office before Harold did. He was almost always late, a perk to being a partner. As the morning went by, Amy tried to focus on her work but found it difficult. The excitement of her date with Harold combined with the nervous anxiety for the day ahead made it nearly impossible to focus. It was only made worse at 8:22 when Amy heard footsteps down the hall and looked up to see Harold approaching her desk. He wore his usual bright, cheerful expression but smiled just a bit more when his eyes rested upon Amy. Instead of his usual coffee and pastry in-hand, this morning he carried two of each.

“Brought you a little something,” Harold remarked, setting one coffee and pastry onto her desk.

“Not out here,” Amy whispered nervously, her eyes darting around to the other desks nearby. Ever since Harold had first asked her out on a date the Friday before, she was terrified of anyone else hearing about it. Harold, however, didn’t seem too nervous.

“What, I’m not allowed to show appreciation for my secretary and offer a coffee and pastry as thanks for your hard work?” Harold asked, raising an eyebrow. His smug smirk was more maddening than usual this morning.

“No, I mean, I guess so, I don’t know,” Amy stammered, too nervous to even think.

“Why don’t you bring your coffee and pastry into my office, we can talk,” Harold offered, his tone softening.

Amy supposed there wasn’t necessarily anything wrong with Harold inviting her into his office for coffee and a pastry. It was something he’d done with her before in the past before they had been on a date together. With another quick glance around her to see if anyone was staring, Amy rose from her desk and grabbed her coffee and pastry. She nodded to Harold and followed him into his office.

Once inside, Harold walked around his desk to sit down in his large office chair, gesturing for Amy to take a seat in the armchair opposite him. Even with the door closed, Amy was still nervous getting too comfortable here, someone could open the door at any moment. As though sensing her nervousness, Harold nodded to the door.

“You can lock it if you’d prefer,” Harold offered casually. He’d already taken a bite of his cherry danish and leaned back in his chair, placing his feet comfortably on the surface of his desk. Clearly he was not feeling the same nervous energy that Amy was. He was his usual calm, confident self.

“Yeah, I think just in case,” Amy replied, doubling back to lock the door. That alone would be suspicious if anyone attempted to open the door, but at least it would be better than walking in on the two of them discussing their relationship. Once Amy returned to her seat, she saw Harold drink deeply from his travel cup and sigh contentedly.

“Best latte in the city,” Harold remarked. “Gotta go a little further to get it, but it’s worth it. Drink up before it gets cold.”

“Thanks for breakfast,” Amy remarked, sliding her pastry out of the bag it was in. She smiled when she saw a chocolate croissant, her favorite. Harold remembered.

“So, I was wondering if you have any lunch plans today,” Harold went on in the same casual voice. Amy’s body tensed up, worried that Harold might already be asking for a lunch date so early in their relationship.

“I brought some leftovers,” Amy answered, her eyes turning away from Harold’s as she focused on the breakfast in front of her.

“Well, if you want to, I was thinking we could go to Gusto’s for lunch today,” Harold offered, wiping a small amount of latte foam from his mustache with a napkin. Amy opened her mouth to immediately protest, but Harold went on. “I know, I know, we’re trying to keep a low profile. But again, there’s nothing suspicious about me wanting to take my secretary out to lunch every so often. I’ve done it before.”

“Never on the same day you also brought me breakfast,” Amy pointed out.

“Do you really think anyone’s paying that much attention?” Harold asked, his smug smirk returning.

“Isn’t one of the job requirements for you is to notice every detail, pick up on every nuance, see every angle?” Amy asked only half jokingly. “I feel like this is the last place to keep anything quiet.”

“Well then we won’t do it everyday,” Harold replied casually. “I just missed you this weekend. I wish we could have spent more time together.”

“Me too,” Amy replied wistfully. “But I don’t know if that means we should be going out on dates during work hours to make up for it.”

“Who said it was a date?” Harold asked. “Again, nothing wrong with wanting to take my secretary out for an appreciation lunch.”

“I guess,” Amy sighed, taking a bite from her chocolate croissant.

“We’ll aim for noon,” Harold remarked. Amy quickly swallowed the bite in her mouth to interject.

“At noon you have a phone call with Mr. Peters,” Amy piped up.

“See, this is exactly why you deserve an appreciation lunch,” Harold remarked, a raised eyebrow accompanying his cocky smirk. “Then we’ll go to Gusto’s at 12:30.”

“We don’t have to go to Gusto’s,” Amy suggested. “We can go somewhere else if you want.”

“Only if you want to, but I know you love the food there,” Harold replied, his smirk falling as it twisted to a curious expression. No doubt he was wondering why Amy had made the suggestion she did. She was far too embarrassed to admit to him that even though he could afford Gusto’s, she most definitely could not.

“I don’t know, it’s just… will we have time for a full sit-down restaurant during our lunch hour?” Amy asked, once again turning her attention to her coffee and pasty to avoid looking at Harold.

“Amy, I’m one of the partners here, I could take a five hour lunch break and still be fine,” Harold boasted. “And as for you, well, we can say it was a working lunch; that we had some important work-related issues to discuss. Nick and Susan won’t bat an eye. We can take all the time we want.”

“I suppose,” Amy sighed, reaching for her cup of coffee.

An awkward silence passed between them as they each ate their pasty and drank their coffee. It was nearly a full minute before Harold finally spoke up.

“Have I made things too weird?” Harold blurted out. “I mean between us. I don’t want to move any faster than you’re comfortable with.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Amy reassured him. “I mean, I do think it’s a little much to be going out to lunch together but I guess if we don’t do it often and don’t make it obvious, that’s fine. It’s just…”

Amy hesitated once more, too embarrassed to admit to Harold that Gusto’s was way too far out of her price range. He had paid for dinner the night of their first date, but Amy knew it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to pay for every meal afterwards. Still, with Harold’s expensive taste, Amy wasn’t sure how she could afford the types of restaurants he’d want to go to. Yet it was so early in their relationship, it felt awkward and uncomfortable to admit that to someone like Harold who hadn’t struggled with money for quite some time.

“It’s just what?” Harold finally asked, setting down the last few bites of his danish as he gave Amy his full attention. At this point, the look on his face was so concerned that it would almost be better to admit the truth rather than see Harold so worried.

“I can’t afford the types of places you want us to go to,” Amy admitted sheepishly. “I know you love going out to lunch everyday and getting take-out for dinner and the restaurants you choose are always so nice and fancy, and that’s great for you. That works for you. But there’s a reason I pack my lunch almost everyday, why I bring leftovers from dinner the night before, why I don’t really go out much. There’s a reason why my favorite restaurant is Applebee’s and not Gusto’s. I… I can’t afford it. At least not on a regular basis.”

“And why… why should that matter?” Harold asked, tilting his head. He looked positively perplexed.

“I just don’t want to prevent you from going to the places you want to go, but I also just… I can’t keep up,” Amy went on.

“Keep up?” Harold asked, still looking confused. “Why would you need to keep up? Why would it matter where we go or whether you can afford it?”

“Well, even if I order the cheapest thing on the menu, that’s still way more than I’m comfortable spending, Harold,” Amy clarified, growing more embarrassed the more she had to spell it out for him.

“I guess I just don’t understand why you’d be spending anything at all?” Harold went on. “Surely I’d be covering the bill wherever we-”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t expect you to do that every time we go out somewhere,” Amy interjected. She often forgot that it had been quite some time since Harold had been in a relationship, at least a proper one, and he was no doubt still operating under the assumption that the man paid for everything. It was an old-fashioned outlook to be sure and Amy was more used to splitting the bill in her past relationships. It only seemed fair.

“Amy, of course I’d pay the bill whenever we go somewhere,” Harold remarked as though any idea to the contrary was ludicrous. “Yoba, I wouldn’t take you out to Gusto’s and expect you to pay half the bill there, that would be horrible.”

“And it would be equally horrible if I just sat back and took advantage of you and your money and allowed you to pay for everything,” Amy countered. “I know it’s been awhile since you’ve been in a serious relationship, but it doesn’t work that way anymore. It’s not just on the man to pay for everything.”

“But what if I want to?” Harold asked in all sincerity.

“You shouldn’t have to,” Amy replied quietly.

“I didn’t say I have to, I said I want to,” Harold repeated with emphasis.

“You only want to because I can’t afford it,” Amy replied, turning her eyes away from Harold. Her embarrassment was only getting worse. She wanted to disappear on the spot with the way Harold was looking at her. Though she was sure he didn’t mean it, it almost came across as a look of pity.

“No, no, that’s not it at all,” Harold reassured her. “Look, I grew up poor, I know what it’s like to not be able to do things or go places that everyone else gets to. I can’t tell you how many birthday parties we had to turn down because we couldn’t afford to bring a gift. We’d lie and say we were busy, but we weren’t. Harvey and I would just be stuck at home, wishing we could join the other kids but knowing that we just couldn’t. Because Yoba forbid we showed up empty-handed, my mother had too much pride for that. But when I started making money, when I finally could afford things, I knew what I wanted to do. Sure, I spent money on myself, but more than anything I wanted to take care of the people in my life; the people that mean the most to me. I’ve helped my mom with her bills, bought her new cookware when she needed it, made sure she can still afford her weekly coffee shop visits with her friends. These are things she didn’t need me to do, but I chose to do them. I like being able to take care of the people I care about. And since I can’t really do that any other way than monetarily, well, then that’s just how I have to do it. I’m not patient like my mother, I’m not compassionate like Harvey. My schedule is too busy to take care of people the traditional way so I enjoy doing it the only way I know how; with my wallet. That might sound shallow and many people might misinterpret that as showing off, but I assure you it’s not. I don’t want to pay for our dates because I’m trying to show off, I want to pay for our dates because I like taking care of you.”

By the time Harold finished speaking, Amy was nearly in tears. Any suspicions she had that Harold pitied her had left. After a speech like that, Amy was sure there was no pity in Harold’s intentions. As good a lawyer as he was, he had always been terrible at lying to the people he was closest to. What he just said were genuine feelings from the heart. It was a sentiment Harold had shared with her before, just not quite as up close and personal. Amy saw Harold’s generosity first-hand any time he’d order a huge bouquet of flowers to be delivered to his mother on her birthday or when he spent a small fortune on brand new leather shoes for his brother. It was always something where she wondered how much was generosity and how much was flexing his wealth. But the sincere look on Harold’s face said it all, there were no intentions of showing off behind these actions. He wore his vanity and ego on his sleeve on a daily basis, strutting around the office with more bravado and confidence than almost anyone else, but this was different. When it came to the people closest to him, Harold was right that he cared far more about taking care of them than he did any ego stroking. It became clear to Amy in that moment that Harold’s love language was spending money on those he cared for most. And now, Amy was part of that small group of people Harold cared for.

“I’m sorry if I made things even more weird,” Harold remarked after a few moments of silence. Amy had been so in awe of what Harold had said, she forgot to speak; almost forgot even to breathe. It wasn’t until Harold spoke again that she snapped back to reality and shook off the overwhelming urge to start crying.

“No, not weird at all, I’m sorry, I’m just… speechless,” Amy answered with a nervous giggle. “That’s quite possibly one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever said to me and, truth be told, my brain’s still processing that it came from you of all people.” Amy smiled playfully to show that she was teasing, she didn’t want Harold to get the wrong idea.

“I have my moments,” Harold replied with a playful smirk.

“But really, honestly, you don’t have to pay if you don’t-” Amy began, but Harold shook his head.

“I want to,” Harold assured her. “I’m not doing it out of perceived obligation, I’m not doing it to be old fashioned or even to lord my wealth over you. I just want to use the one thing I’ve got going for me for good.”

“I hope you’re joking,” Amy replied seriously. “You’ve got more going for you than just your money, I hope you realize that.”

“Well, aside from my roguishly handsome good looks and my charming wit, of course” Harold replied playfully.

“Of course,” Amy repeated with a smile. “And hey, maybe I can return the favor. You want to take care of me in the best way you know how, allow me to do the same.” Harold raised a curious eyebrow and Amy went on. “We can have breakfast, lunch, and dinner together today, if that’s alright. And the best part is, we don’t have to sneak around for dinner. If you want, you can head over to my apartment tonight and I’ll make us some dinner. It’s the best way I can take care of you, the man who never cooks for himself.”

“Don’t you have, like, four cats or something?” Harold asked nervously.

“Oh, yeah, that’s right… you’re allergic,” Amy sighed.

“Well then I guess you’ll have to come over to my place instead,” Harold remarked, his smirk becoming quite suggestive.

“Don’t get any ideas, I already told you nothing like that’s happening until at least our third date,” Amy teased.

“First date was on Friday, second date is lunch today, third date is dinner,” Harold teased in return, ticking each date off on his fingers.

“I thought you said lunch today wasn’t considered a date?” Amy remarked.

“Why did I have to say that?” Harold groaned.

“I’ll head over to your place tonight at 7 with some groceries, Yoba knows you don’t actually have a properly stocked fridge and pantry,” Amy went on.

“Does wine count?” Harold asked playfully. “Because I definitely have that.”

“Guess I’ll have to bring something that pairs well with a red,” Amy remarked, remembering Harold’s preference for red wine.

“And you’re absolutely sure it’s gotta be three dates?” Harold asked longingly.

“Yes,” Amy answered with a nod. She could never admit to him that her reasoning was to make sure that Harold’s intentions with her were genuine and that he was actually ready for a long term committed relationship and not just another fling. Given his track record, it wouldn’t hurt to take things slow.

“Well then in that case, I stand by my word that lunch today is not a date,” Harold sighed, “but tonight most definitely is.”

“It’s a date,” Amy confirmed with a giggle. “As for lunch, it’ll be nothing more than two colleagues going out to lunch together-”

“Who just so happen to be dating,” Harold interjected playfully. Amy gently punched his arm in response.

“Don’t even say stuff like that out loud, people might hear you!” Amy remarked. “Sheesh, how are you a lawyer when you’re just so bad at keeping secrets?!”

“Oh, I can keep other people’s secrets, just not my own,” Harold replied. “But I promise that by the time we leave at noon, I’ll have a better poker face.

“At noon you have a call with Mr. Peters,” Amy reminded him with a sigh.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Peters,” Harold replied with a laugh, looking just barely sheepish underneath his smug smirk. It was a rare crack in his armor that he fixed almost immediately. A quick shake of his head brought back his confident facade.

“What would you do without me?” Amy asked with a smirk of her own.

“I’m not too keen to find out,” Harold replied. “But, you’ve been in here perhaps a bit too long to be believable, so… we should probably get to work. I have a lot of documentation to prepare before my call with Mr. Peters at 12:30.”

“No, the call is at-” Amy sighed, but Harold raised an eyebrow and smirked once more.

“I’m teasing,” Harold replied playfully. “Thanks for keeping me on track.”

Amy rose from her seat across Harold’s desk, shaking her head at him as she laughed. It was nice to see a more fun, relaxed side of Harold. He often made himself more vulnerable in front of her as the years went on and he became more comfortable with her, but admittedly he’d opened up more around her in the last week than he ever had. It was fascinating to peel back yet another layer of Harold, she was curious how much more she would see in the coming weeks. As it was, she was already loving this fun, playful side of Harold.

As Amy stepped away from Harold’s desk, he jumped up from his own seat and rushed past her. Amy was confused until Harold approached the door before she did and she saw that he wanted to get the door for her.

“Well aren’t you a gentleman,” Amy remarked.

“It may have been awhile since I’ve been in a relationship, but chivalry is not dead, my lady,” Harold replied. “Oh, and in case I don’t see you before our lunch-”

Before Harold turned the lock on the door, he stepped closer to Amy to bridge the small gap between them. As she looked up into Harold’s eyes, she felt herself lean forward and melt against him. It still felt so odd to be romantic with Harold; it was something she had dreamed about and hoped for desperately, but never actually figured would happen. It was surreal to live out a scene she’d so often fantasized in her mind. And just as it happened in her fantasies, Harold leaned in close and brought his lips to hers in a soft, gentle kiss. Almost instantly she felt herself get weak in the knees, leaning even closer to Harold for support and stability. When their lips separated, she felt just barely light-headed.

“I-I, uh… I should… I should go,” Amy stammered, too lost in adoration to think properly. Harold smirked at her response, knowing he’d made her swoon.

“I’ll be counting the minutes ‘til our lunch,” Harold replied, finally turning the lock to the door.

“And I’ll be making sure you don’t get so sidetracked by our lunch that you miss your call with Mr. Peters,” Amy teased.

“Thanks, babe,” Harold replied. His confident swagger instantly dropped at the unexpected use of a pet name, it seemed even Harold himself wasn’t expecting that from himself. He seemed to have blurted it out on instinct and was frozen in place in response.

Before turning the handle on the door, Amy pressed a soft kiss against Harold’s cheek to reassure him that his use of a pet name was okay. Amy knew that Harold would need plenty of reassurances from her along the way, it had been quite some time since his last serious relationship and there was plenty he didn’t know or was unsure about. It felt strangely rewarding to Amy to know she could guide someone as confident and intelligent as Harold through an experience so foreign to him.

“See you later, babe,” Amy replied, smiling fondly to Harold one last time before opening his office door.

By the time she turned away to return to her desk, her smile had faded, but only out of necessity. It was nearly impossible to subdue her giddy excitement, as Amy wanted to continue smiling dreamily all day. It would be difficult to focus for the rest of the day until her lunch with Harold. Thinking about such a pleasant walk through the city to dine at a nice restaurant would be all she could think about for the next few hours. Life as Amy knew it had changed drastically in the last week and just thinking about the possibilities and the future ahead with Harold was too exciting a prospect to ignore. The daydreams she often had about Harold were finally coming true.

#my fic #harold #amy

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mydogisveryadorbs · 4 years

Text

crush | jj maybank

summary: jj has had a crush on you for longer than he can remember

warnings: cursing, mentions of smut (if you squint), tiny bit of angst, SOFT JJ, fluff, fluff, fluff

masterlist :)

(gif credit to the owner)

2.1k+ words

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JJ Maybank is was a player.

This is a well-known fact on both sides of the island.

You knew of way too many girls, pogues, kooks, and tourons alike, that had tried their shot at him. All hoping that they could magically change his bad-boy exterior and that he would suddenly transform into the dating type.

It wasn't uncommon that you had girls come into the shop, crying to you about how JJ Maybank didn't text them back and proceeding to buy a bunch of sweets to comfort themselves.

Your family-owned Kildare Bakery, home of the best cupcakes the Outer Banks had to offer. You had grown up helping your parents out in the bakery and once you turned 16 they finally made you an official paid employee.

You worked behind the register and for the most part, you loved it. It was really interesting to meet new people, especially tourons visiting from out of state.

However, there were moments where you didn't enjoy your job and this was definitely one of them.

A girl who looked to be about your age had walked into the store a few minutes ago, looking sad, but you didn't say anything. You simply asked if she needed any help and all of a sudden she was breaking out into a fit of sobs, reaching across the counter to pull you into a hug. You awkwardly patted her back, “Umm, you okay?”

“T-there was this boy,” she hiccuped and you immediately knew exactly where this was going. “I met him at a party last night and we h-hooked up and it was like really good, but when I asked him for his number he wouldn't even give it to me.”

You tried to hold back your eye roll but you couldn't help it. “Let me guess, his name was JJ,” you say, his name sounding slightly bitter on your tongue.

The girl finally pulled away from you, wiping her puffy eyes. “You know him,” she asked in confusion.

You nod. “Yes. Don't worry though, you'll find a much better guy and you will forget about JJ in no time,” you say in an attempt to comfort her.

She narrows her eyes. “Wait, you've hooked up with him too,” the girl asks.

You can't help but laugh. “Absolutely not, I just get a lot of his previous hookups in here,” you explain, gesturing to the display case. “I typically recommend the double chocolate cupcake to girls who've had their heart broken by JJ Maybank.”

The girl continues to look at you in confusion, but nods at your suggestion. You grab a chocolate cupcake and quickly box it up wanting to get her and all of her emotions out of here as quickly as you could.

“That'll be $2.34,” you say, and the girl quickly pulls out a ten. You hand her her change and her cupcake. “Have a nice day.”

Unbeknownst to you, JJ Maybank himself watches the interaction from outside of the bakery.

He can't help the way his heart feels when he sees you comfort the crying girl who he vaguely remembers from the boneyard last night.

Pope nudges his rib cage with his elbow. “Seriously, JJ,” Pope says, clearly annoyed by the blonde boy. “You brought me all the way down here just so you could stare at the girl you've had a crush on for years.”

JJ rolls his eyes, trying to cover up the blush forming on his cheeks. “I don't have a crush on her,” he says in an attempt to convince his friend. “I just think she's nice to look at.”

This was a complete and utter lie. Despite growing up in Kildare, you weren't very well known on the island, most people didn't pay you a second glance. You didn't really partake in the typical shenanigans of the teens on this island, and you always felt invisible to your peers.

But JJ saw you.

He had seen you every day in gym class Freshman year, every day in biology sophomore year, and every day he didn't skip in English junior year. And now that summer had rolled around, he couldn't help but come to the bakery just so he could see you more. JJ not only thought you were a living, breathing angel, but he also adored the way you were always so sweet and kind to everyone you met. How could he not have a crush on a girl like you? You were like a cold that he couldn't shake, not that he ever wanted to. But in his mind, a girl like you would never go for a guy like him.

Watching you talk to one of his hookups made him oddly guilty. He knew he shouldn't, but hooking up with random girls was the only way he could think to take his mind off you. Clearly, that didn't work, because here he was, yet again, staring at you through a window.

“Dude, you're so whipped,” Pope said with an eye roll. “Just go talk to her.”

JJ’s eyes widened. “Absolutely not.”

Pope scoffed. “You're telling me you've never even talked to the girl?” he asks incredulously. “JJ, bro, you're a goner.”

“You say that like it's easy,” the blonde says, dramatically gesturing his arms.

With another eye roll, Pope puts both hands on the other boy's shoulders. “Okay here's what you do,” he says and JJ listens intently. “Walk inside the store, go up to the counter, and you fucking talk to her.”

JJ pulls away. “Dude no way,” he exclaims.

“Okay fine,” Pope says. “If you go in there and talk to her, I'll give you all my delivery tips for a whole week.”

JJ looks at him. “A week,” he asks unconvinced.

“Fine. Two weeks.” They shake on it and JJ prepares himself to go inside.

The idea of even talking to you makes his stomach queasy. God, Pope is right, he is whipped.

After a few minutes, JJ tells his friend that he is ready and Pope pats him on the back before pushing him towards the entrance encouragingly.

You looked up to the door when you heard the bell ring, signaling someone entering. You were shocked to see the same boy you had been talking about moments ago. You make eye contact with his big blue eyes, getting entranced for a second. Pushing away your negative impression of the boy, you offer him a sweet smile.

JJ looks down at your lips, then back up to your eyes and without a word. You wonder why he isn't moving further into the shop, but before you can ask what is wrong, he turns around and walks right out the door.

Once outside, Pope comforts the boy with a laugh, telling him “next time” and they walk away from the shop leaving you utterly confused.

The next day, JJ drags John B, Pope, and Kiara along with him to the bakery, telling them that he needs “extra support”.

“C’mon man,” John B says with a shrug. “(Y/N) is way too nice to shoot you down,” he adds jokingly.

Kiara elbows him in the stomach. “Don't listen to him, JJ,” she says, shooting John B a glare. “Just be yourself.”

JJ nods, feeling confident as he walks through the bakery doors, but the second he sees your radiant smile all his courage flies out the window and he quickly walks back out the door.

This cycle goes on for three more days. JJ walks in, sees you, and leaves. You are becoming annoyed with the boy's actions, wondering if he is playing some sort of stupid prank on you.

It is Friday night, a few minutes before the bakery closes, and JJ decides that enough is enough. He needs to talk to you and he needs to do it now.

You are wiping down the display cases when you hear the bell ring.

When you turn around, you see JJ. Before he can say anything you glare at him. “Are you kidding me,” you say, sassily. JJ didn't even know you had a sassy bone in your body. “You've come in here every day this week and you look at me and then walk out,” you lecture him, “Seriously, just order something.”

“I-I,” JJ stutters but he can't get a word out in his shocked state.

Closing your eyes you try to regain your composure. “I'm sorry,” you say, your voice softening already feeling guilty about raising your voice at him. “I didn't mean to lash out on you.”

JJ shakes his head, softly smiling at your kindness. “No it's me who should be sorry,” he says remorsefully. “I probably confused you so much. I just- I think you're really beautiful.”

His words shock you. JJ Maybank thinks you are beautiful? You didn't even know he knew you existed before today. This had to be a prank.

You softly pout at him. “That's not very funny, JJ,” you say, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“What?” he asks, confused.

“It's not funny to play me like that.”

JJ frowns at your accusation, heartbreaking slightly. “I'm being honest, (Y/N). You are really pretty.”

You narrow your eyes. “I'm not sleeping with you just because you called me beautiful,” you say.

The blonde boy blushes hard. Clearly, you knew of his reputation, and he hated himself for it. “I don't want to sleep with you. Well I mean, I do, but- shit,” JJ cuts his rambling short, noticing the scowl on your face. “What I meant to say is that I want to take you on a real date, and hold your hand, and kiss you goodnight n’shit.”

To say you're shocked is an understatement. “How do I know this isn't some elaborate joke,” you ask him warily.

“It isn't, I promise,” JJ says honestly, but the look on your face doesn't change. “Last year in English you sat in the second row, three seats from the left and you got A’s on all your papers because you are a good writer. In Mr. Hills biology class you fell asleep almost every day and you would always drool a little bit on your notes. In gym class Freshman year you hit my friend John B in the face with a basketball and you didn't stop apologizing for like three weeks. Trust me (Y/N), I've had a crush on you for a long time.”

By the time JJ finishes his speech, your jaw has dropped. You didn't think anyone at that school even knew your name, let alone JJ Maybank.

“I-I honestly don't know what to say,” you tell him. “You have a crush on me? You, JJ Maybank, the one guy I told myself I would never fall for?”

You didn't know it, but every word that falls from your mouth is like a knife to JJ’s heart.

“But I couldn't help myself,” you add, causing JJ to perk up a little bit. “I get girls in here all the time whose hearts you broke, but still, I see you living your best life with your friends and I can't help but want that with you.”

“Go out with me,” JJ says with a mouth splitting grin on his face, “Please. You can wear something nice and I'll bring you flowers pick you up and take you out to a fancy restaurant.”

You can't help but laugh at his outburst. JJ is pretty sure that his heart stops at the sound and he wants nothing more than to make you laugh every day for the rest of his life.

“I'm a simple girl, JJ,” you say sweetly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “You don't have to spend a bunch of money on me.”

“You're worth every pen-” you cut the boy off by holding your hand up.

“How about you grab some pizza and I'll grab some dessert and you can pick me up and take me to a picnic on the beach,” you suggest.

JJ looks at you and nods his head like an obedient puppy.

“Okay, it's settled. Now get out of the bakery so I can close up,” you say with a giggle, playfully shooing him away.

The blonde quickly moves to leave. “I'll pick you up at 6?” he asks sweetly from the doorway.

You nod. “I like pepperoni,” you call out with a chuckle as he backs out of the door, a big smile on his face.

JJ Maybank has a crush on you.

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masterlist

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babydaddyleorio · 3 years

Text

bnha: having a theatre s/o

For my thespians 😩☝🏾

Izuku

-Izuku absolutely loves helping you practice.

-He would go over the script with you, taking the place of the other characters as he reads just so you could practice your role fluently.

-Another thing to keep in mind is that Izuku can not act to save his life.

-He’s kind of nervous and occasionally will say things like “oops, wrong line” or “where are we again?” when reading from the script. His voice has a ton of forced emotion and he also tends to awkwardly move his body when he follows the stage directions.

-Even though he’s not that good on the stage himself, he offers great advice when It comes to the way you perform. He will tell you If you need to add more expression in a particular scene or If you accidentally skipped doing something.

-If you have to design the set, Izuku is right alongside you drawing out sketches and coming up with the correct dimensions for props. He has such a serious look on his face as he’s doing mental calculations on where something should go and you think it’s so adorable.

-Izuku always makes time to go see your plays.

-When he gets there, he is literally so invested in what's happening and is following the storyline very well. He laughs at the cheesy jokes being made and his eyes will water If something sad happens. The person beside him will slyly offer him a tissue because he’s literally bawling his eyes out.

-When the play is over, he stands in the hall and waits as his eyes search the room for you. Once he finally sees you walking towards him through the crowd of people, he immediately perks up.

-”You were incredible, y/n!” He would beam with the biggest smile on his face, hugging you tightly once he reached you.

Kirishima

-Kirishima is most definitely your biggest fan.

-He will pick you up from rehearsal everyday with a smile on his face and will ask you "So, how'd It go?" and when you tell him It went good, he would then smile harder.

-“I’m so excited, I can't wait to see you perform!” He would shout while pumping his fist in the air and a laugh would fall from your mouth at how eager he was.

-Kirishima is another person who has no qualms helping you build the set, in fact, he actually looks forward to It. He loves to help you paint cool designs on the props or move certain things around the stage.

-He will be very quiet If he notices that you’re practicing because he doesn’t want to distract you.

-Loves doing improv with you. You guys end up making the most hilarious scenarios with each other and will end up breaking character with your uncontrollable laughter.

-Kirishima also enjoys the exercises and warm ups you have to do to get your voice and body ready for acting. This is his time to shine.

-If you’re nervous before you go on, Kirishima will reassure you. He would give you an encouraging speech or do deep breaths while holding your hands just in case you need some type of comfort.

-Kirishima makes sure to get a front row seat so he can be the first one to see you.

-His eyes will legit light up once he catches a glimpse of how stunning you look with your costume on. His eyes are always searching for you through the whole play, and will definitely whistle and clap loudly once your performance is over.

-You guys will go out to celebrate because Kirishima insisted on treating you to food for your stellar performance.

Todoroki

-Todoroki is familiar with the Idea of plays, but he’s never really seen one before. That’s why when you tell him that you’re going to be in the school’s next play, he’s kind of unsure of what to expect.

-Todoroki genuinely wants to know about this since this is something you enjoy, so he will binge watch plays on YouTube to get a clue on what you’ll be doing.

-Once he finished his marathon of various plays, Todoroki would be rushing to tell you about everything he discovered when researching them, but he stops dead in his tracks once he sees you in your costume

-He has to do a double take right quick because wow

-You look amazing.

-Whether your costume is a princess from medieval times or a 63 year old man, Todoroki still couldn’t believe how great you look.

-Todoroki thinks that you’re such a great actor and loves the confidence you exert when you’re on stage.

-He would be so inspired by you that sometimes when he’s looking at himself through the mirror in his bathroom, he would clear his throat and try to recite lines from the play with a deep voice.

-If It’s finally premiere night, he most likely invites the whole class.

-Once Intermission starts, he texts that you’re doing great with a smiley face at the end of It.

-After the play is finished, he would give you a banquet of flowers with a box of chocolate (or your favorite snack) in his other hand.

- “Your acting skills are outstanding, Y/n. I am really proud of you.” He would grin as he watched you bury your nose in the bundle of roses.

Sero

-Sero loves watching you rehearse your lines. It’s like music to his ears when he hears how you enunciate your words and how entrancing the tone of your voice is.

-And if you’re in musical theatre? He’s definitely toppling over once he hears how breathtaking your singing is.

-Sometimes Sero will sit in the empty audience and watch as you practice with your other classmates. He’ll stay the whole time, either observing you or will do his homework, and the director doesn’t mind either since Sero is so chill and supportive of everyone.

-And because the director likes him so much, he will also help you guys even if he’s not a part of the class. They assign him to go work in the workshop and bring out wood to help technical theatre and to tape things they can’t reach.

-Sero knows all the lyrics to the song you perform and mouths the lyrics to you just in case you forget them.

-He also has a whole playlist dedicated to theatre and you guys sing Hamilton loudly in the car whenever you hear a song come on.

-If you write your own plays he supports you 100%.

-He likes sitting in bed and flipping through your script while holding a flashlight under his covers and would probably spend all night reading It.

-He would definitely text you in the morning how amazing your writing Is and that you would make a great playwright

-Literally won’t shut up to his friends about the play and It’s to the point where Denki has to take some tape from his elbow and stick It across his mouth.

-Sero will come to every showing you have. You really appreciate him too because It feels nice to have someone supporting you from the crowd.

-At the end of your play, Sero will give you a standing ovation with a ginormous smile shaping his lips.

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 3 years

Note

Hello!! Could i request in some Penelope Garcia x Male!Reader where the reader would be Derek's little brother and absolutely head over heels in love with Penny, but hiding it from Derek because he is afraid what Derek might think?

Hey, sorry this took a little while, I hope you like it!!

Word count: 1500ish

Warnings: None that I can think of?

Being Derek Morgan’s younger brother definitely had it’s perks, for instance, none of the high school bullies would even look your way with a brother like Derek. You were three years younger than him, but his reputation had you covered through the entirety of your highschool career. Well, it was a mix of your brother and your sister's reputation if you were being honest. Although Derek likes to believe its all his doing. It's always quite amusing when Sarah calls him out on his 'bullshit' as she always puts it.

You had taken two weeks off from a corporate job you hated to stay in Virginia and see your brother. You figured he was always going to California to visit, you figured it was about time you went to him. The two of you were close growing up and that hadn’t faded too much as adults, you’d like to think. So you’d booked the time off work, booked a hotel, and decided not to tell him. You knew he’d probably have a case anyway but it would be a nice surprise while it lasted.

You had dumped your luggage in your hotel room first before heading over to your brother’s place of work. The hotel room was nice enough, a double bed with a bedside table either side. The bed itself was nice, it had a white bed cover with a deep purple throw at the bottom. A desk on the far wall with a view out of the window. It had a dark wooden floor, an oak wardrobe. All in all, not too bad.

After scoping out the room you heading back into your car, turning on the radio before beginning to make your way to the FBI Headquarters. “Siri, call Penelope Garica,”

"Hello, oracle of all knowledge, how may I assist thee?"

"Well, I was wondering if Derek was on a case?"

"My chocolate thunder?" Penelope's voice sounded through your phone. "Nope, he's in the office doing some paperwork,"

"Good, I'm on my way to you now," You reply. You'd messaged Penelope a few weeks ago informing her that you were going to be staying there for a few weeks.

“Hey, Stud Muffin,” Penelope greeted as you walked out of the elevator. You give her a grin.

“Hey, Penelope,” You chime, “Have you seen Derek anywhere? He doesn’t know I’m here, I thought I’d give him a nice surprise,”

“Well, my handsome, your brother is currently out on a coffee run,” Penelope said, “You should stick around, he should be back in a few anyway. You can come and sit with me in my office if you want!”

You gave a nod, hoping she couldn’t tell how nervous you felt. You see, you’ve had a crush on The Penelope Garcia for the last God knows how long. You had desperately tried to hide it from the moment you started developing feelings. Trying to squish them down, you were pretty sure she didn’t feel the same way about you and even if she did - she was Derek’s coworker and close friend. It was one of the unspoken rules: don’t date your siblings' friends. And you weren't about to break that rule. Not without your brother's permission anyway. And you doubted that you actually had the balls to do that anytime soon.

"Do you know how long he'll be?" You asked as you followed her to her batcave. "Not- Not that I don't want to sit with you,"

Garcia gave you a smile as she continued walking, "Don't worry, I know you love me, Hot Stuff," She said with a smile, "He left about five minutes ago but Spencer ordered a fancy double espresso and Derek always get confused about my order, so about another ten minutes?"

You nodded. Ten minutes you could last ten minutes without crumbling and confessing your undying love. Jesus, undying love? 'When did I become that sappy?' You asked yourself mentally rolling your eyes.

"Baby girl," Derek announced, around ten minutes later, walking into her batcave with her coffee.

"Thank you my chocolate thunder!" Penelope cheered and turned round. You couldn't help but smile at her happiness. As you turned around with her.

"Surprise,"

"(Y/N)!" Derek grinned, pulling you into an embrace, "What are you doing here?"

"I can go if you want," You offered cheekily.

With a roll of his eyes, Derek continued, "Why didn't you tell me you were gonna be here?"

"For the surprise, duh, it isn't a surprise if you know about it," You sassed.

"How long are you staying for?"

"About two weeks,"

"Come on, let's go tell the rest of the team you're here," Derek said. Penelope grinned, grabbing your hand to lead you there. God you hoped your hands were clammy. You also hoped that Derek (or anyone else) wouldn't pick up up on your little crush for Miss Garcia.

"Look who it is!" Emily grinned seeing Penelope pull you into the bullpen, you gave them all a small wave. "How have you been?"

"Alright I suppose, being Derek's brother is always tiring,"

"I can imagine," Emily laughed.

"Tiring enough working with him," JJ joined in.

"Alright, alright," Derek chuckled, before turning to you, "I have to go to a meeting, but we will talk as soon as I get out okay? We'll think up some plans, alright?"

You gave a short nod, sitting yourself down at Derek’s desk whilst he walked off to attend his meeting. You were tempted to rearrange everything - knowing it would annoy him when he got back. Deciding to go for it, you swapped the pen at his desk with one from the bottom drawer, you turned the first page of the file he was working on upside down. And then, just for good measure, you unscrewed the light bulb of his desk lamp and hid it in his bottom drawer.

“You up to mischief?” Rossi asked, you looked up seeing the familiar Italian man and beamed.

“Not if you’re going to tell Derek,” You grinned.

“Of course not,” Rossi said, placing his hands in the air. “Just wanted to let you know he’s very particular about the way his monitor is tilted,” Your grin widened, and messed around with the screen for a second before leaning back, proud of your work. They seemed like simple things, but they would annoy your brother when he realised.

"Hey (Y/N)," Spencer acknowledged as he walked into the bullpen, "When did you get here?"

Derek walked out of the meeting around twenty minutes later, “Come on, let’s go somewhere to work out what we could do for your stay,” Derek said, leading you to the round table room.

"About twenty minutes ago?" You said. "I think,"

Eventually, you both had sorted out a rough schedule, drinks tonight, binge watching die hard tomorrow, Rossi’s family cooking lesson that Tuesday, then drinks again on Wednesday, depending on Derek’s case workload. And you could sort out the rest after Wednesday.

“Alright, well, I shall leave you to your work,” You said with a tight grin, making your way to the door.

“Pump the brakes,” Derek said as you tried to walk past him, you sigh and stop, turning to him.

“Yes?”

“What’s going on with you?”

“Me?” You asked, pointing to yourself, “Nothing’s going on with me,”

“I don’t need to be a profiler to know you’re lying, (Y/N),”

You let out a groan as you sat down in one of the chair, “Okay, fine,” You huff, “I’ll tell you, but no questions or comments until the end,”

“Okay,” Derek said, rolling his eyes slightly.

“Don’t - Don’t laugh or anything, I would never do anything because she’s your friend and I’m not that sort of brother,” You rambled before forcing yourself to take a deep breath. "I'm pretty sure I'm in love with Penelope,"

Derek's eyebrows shoot up, he battles to fight off the smirk that begins to grow, followed by the chuckle. "That's what's got you so nervous?" When you nod he continued, "I don't care if you date The Miss Penelope Garcia. In fact I encourage it. All I have had to hear from her is how cute she thinks you are. For the love of all things holy please, just ask the woman out,"

"You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"She's your friend," You state.

"And?" Derek asked.

"And I didn't want you- I was… Nervous… about what you'd think,"

"Honestly?" Derek asked, when you nodded, he continued. "I think you're great together. If you got together I'd be happy for you. If you hurt her, I'd definitely smack you. If she hurts you, I'd maybe give her the cold shoulder for the day,"

"So we're good?" You asked, Derek rolled his eyes with a fond smile, patting your shoulder.

"We'll always be good," He said, "Now, go ask her out."

(She said yes)

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #Spencer reid #derek morgan #penelope garcia #david rossi #jj #jennifer jareau #I keep rereading this worried it isn't good #So im just gonna schedule it #And hope for the best #Lmao

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bex-la-get · 3 years

Text

A Very Important Question (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Natalie Cusack

Special Appearance: Sienna Trinh

Word count: 2012

Summary: Ethan has a very important question for Nat.

Author’s Note: This is dedicated to the anon who asked if I had written Ethan and Nat’s proposal story. Surprisingly, I had not so, of course, I had to rectify that immediately. Hope you enjoy it! 😘 Also this is unedited so sorry in advance for mistakes.

Ethan was acting weird.

He was constantly stepping away from work to attend meetings off-site, closed his laptop anytime someone walked by, and seemed to be in a constant state of anxiety. Whenever Natalie tried to talk to him about it, he always brushed it off, reassuring her he was fine.

“I’m just under a lot of stress, Nat, that’s all. Being Chief is more involved than I realized,” he would say.

Natalie wasn’t convinced.

“I don’t know, Si. I’m worried about him,” Nat said one night when getting drinks with Sienna. “You don’t think he’s having money trouble and he’s trying to hide it from me, do you?”

Sienna furrowed her brows. “You mean like gambling debts? That doesn’t seem like Ethan.”

Natalie shrugged. “I know it doesn’t. I’m just grasping at straws here. Trying to make sense of it all.”

Sienna squeezed Natalie’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t look too much into it, Nat. He’s probably just stressed; lord knows Bloom doesn’t make things easy and the Chief’s job is pretty demanding.”

Nat sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Si.”

“Anytime.”

------------------------------

-------------------------

When Nat returned home that night, she found Ethan sitting on the sofa, watching an old black-and-white movie. His eyes lit up when he spotted her and he jumped off the couch to greet her. “Hey you.”

“Hi,” she smiled.

Ethan pulled her close and kissed her softly, smiling as Natalie immediately relaxed in his arms. “I missed you,” he said, pulling away.

“I just saw you a few hours ago,” she replied.

“I know and then I went several hours without seeing you and I missed you terribly during that time.”

She laughed and caressed his cheek with her hand. “Well, I missed you too.” Her brows furrowed and she stepped closer to him. “Are you okay? You’ve been so stressed this past week; I’m worried about you.”

His eyes softened and he nodded. “I know; I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. This-- this whole thing with being Chief and trying to navigate my new responsibilities while still having to answer to Bloom has been overwhelming. And I kind of bottled it up; I know I have no reason to, it’s just-- just an old habit, I guess.”

Natalie smiled understandingly. “I know, I’m quite familiar with those old habits of yours.” He chuckled and she nuzzled his nose with hers. “You don’t have to bottle it up anymore, my love. I’m here for you, always. And I want to support you through everything, be it good or bad. I’ve got you.”

He held her close and rested his forehead against hers. “Thank you; I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Just talk to me, okay? Even if it’s minor, I always want you to feel like you can come to me.”

“I will, I promise.” His forehead still resting against hers, he closed his eyes and held her close for a long moment, just enjoying having her in his arms. He was fully aware of how lucky he was to have her and while it killed him to lie to her, he hoped she’d forgive him when she realized the reason why.

Nuzzling her nose with his, he moved to kiss her forehead then looked at her. “Are you hungry? There’s some leftovers in the fridge I can heat up.”

She smiled and nodded. “That sounds great. Let me change though, these jeans have overstayed their welcome.”

He chuckled and watched as she made her way to the bedroom. “Hey,” he called. She turned and looked at him expectantly and he smiled. “I love you.”

She grinned. “I love you more.”

“Never.”

-----------------------------------

Ethan looked around the apartment, triple checking his packing list in case he missed something. They were only going to be gone for the weekend but he needed to make sure that nothing was missing or left behind. This had to go perfectly; and with a lot of luck, it would. But that assumed he remembered everything-- did he pack enough underwear? What about the wine, is the wine in the cooler? Ring. The ring’s in his suitcase. Should he double check again?

The lock in the front door turned and Ethan had a brief moment of panic before shaking it off. He’d been preparing for this for over a week, everything was set. He just needed to remember to breathe.

Nat smiled at Ethan as she walked in. “Hey you.”

Ethan visibly relaxed and returned her smile. “Hi. How was lunch with Sienna?”

“Good! We got our nails done too. Lookie!” She extended her hand out to him and he admired the bright red she had chosen. He tried not to lose himself in the visual of a diamond ring on the very hand he was looking at, instead focusing on the color. Don’t give it away!

He cleared his throat and smiled. “Very pretty. Good color choice.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling. Then, noticing the duffle bag that sat on the couch behind him, she furrowed her brows. “Are you going somewhere?”

“We are,” he corrected. “We’re taking the weekend off and going to Martha’s Vineyard, just the two of us. And Jenner.”

She smiled. “Really? Wait, I’m supposed to work tomorrow!”

Ethan shook his head. “Not anymore. I cleared your schedule and got your shifts covered. You’re free until Tuesday. Perks of dating the Chief.” He winked.

She raised her eyebrows. “Thank you, Ethan; that’s so sweet of you. But… what’s the occasion? I’m not forgetting an anniversary, am I?”

He chuckled. “No; I just thought we could both do with a weekend off. I hope it’s okay that I decided that?” The thought suddenly crossed his mind that she might object to having a trip suddenly sprung on her without warning.

She smiled and quelled his nerves with a gentle kiss. “It’s more than okay. Thank you for being so thoughtful.”

“Anything for you, my love.” He pointed to the duffle bag. “Everything’s already packed, we just need to get it all into the car. Will you leash Jenner?”

-----------------------

Their first night in Martha’s Vineyard had been relaxing and romantic. After arriving at the AirBnB Ethan had rented, the two had gone out to dinner and enjoyed a quiet date overlooking the beach. Nat had looked beautiful in her sundress and windblown hair, her smile lighting up the entire patio. If Ethan hadn’t left the ring at the house, he might’ve proposed just then. But he had put too much planning into this proposal, damn it, he wasn’t about to ruin it all with an impulse, no matter how tempted he was.

After a lazy Saturday morning stumbling around the house, Ethan, Natalie, and Jenner made their way to the beach, picnic basket and blanket in hand. “This was such a good idea, babe!” Nat said as she popped a cheese cube into her mouth. “We haven’t been on a picnic in forever!”

Ethan smiled. “That’s why I thought we could have one while we were here. The beach seems like as good a place as any for a picnic.”

Natalie smiled. “This reminds me of our first date.”

“Does it now?”

“Mhm,” she said, sipping her wine. “The two of us and Jenner, enjoying a beautiful day outside. We had a picnic then too.”

“I remember,” Ethan said, smiling fondly. “I was nervous for that date. I wanted to make a good impression on you.”

“Really? You had already made a good impression on me.”

“Not as a boyfriend, I hadn’t. I wanted everything to go perfectly; it mattered to me that you knew how much I care about you. How much I love you. I may or may not have agonized over how much cheese was too much for that picnic.”

Nat smiled and squeezed his hand. “I knew then as I know now how much you love me. It’s as much as I love you, which is a lot. And you made a wonderful impression on me, Ethan. You always do. Also, there is no such thing as too much cheese.”

He laughed. “I know that now.” He leaned towards her and kissed her softly, caressing her cheek with his free hand. “I love you,” he whispered as he pulled away.

“I love you too,” she replied. She looked back at their picnic basket and smiled. “Any chance you packed some sweet stuff in there?”

“Mhm,” Ethan nodded. “There’s some chocolate covered strawberries at the bottom of the basket.

Nat’s eyes lit up. “You spoil me!”

Ethan watched with bated breath as Nat dug her way to the bottom of the basket, fully aware of what she’d find on top of aforementioned strawberries. His heart pounded as he watched her hands slow in their search and listened to the quiet gasp that escaped her lips. With one final reach, she pulled out a small velvet box, her eyes wide. “Ethan… I-- what?”

He moved closer to her and clasped his hands over hers, holding the box in place. “I love you,” he told her. Deftly, he maneuvered the small box out of her grasp and held it in front of her. “I love you so much and I want to live the rest of my life with you by my side. Natalie, you are kind and intelligent and passionate and beautiful both inside and out. You have such fire in your eyes, it could set the whole world ablaze and I would but happily burn in the flames.

“You have made my life so much better, from the first day you stepped into it. You light up my darkest days, your embrace is my home; I am a better man because of you and I know true happiness with you. Wherever you go Nat, I will follow. I love you and I can’t wait to grow old with you. Will you marry me?”

Nat was crying, a beautiful watery smile on her face. She sniffled and hastily wiped the tears that were falling away as she struggled to find her voice. “Ethan, I--” she choked back a sob and smiled even bigger. “I love you so much. Yes. Yes, I will marry you!”

Choking back a sob of his own, Ethan pulled Natalie into a tight embrace, her arms flinging around his shoulders and they held each other tightly, crying tears of overwhelming happiness and whispered “I love you’s.”

Eventually, they pulled apart and wiped each other’s tears away before Ethan pulled the ring out of the box and slid it onto Natalie’s finger. Sienna’s tips about Nat’s ring size had been correct and it fit like a glove, much to his relief. The ring looked better on her hand than he could have ever imagined. And now it would live on her hand for the rest of their lives, a symbol of their undying love for each other.

Natalie smiled at the ring and sniffled. “So is this why Sienna insisted we get our nails done yesterday?” she asked.

Ethan laughed. “I suppose so. She had mentioned it to me but I didn’t think much of it. It does make a lot of sense, though.”

She giggled and nodded. Then she looked at him thoughtfully. “You weren’t stressed about work at all, were you? You were stressed about this.”

He nodded and ran his thumb over the ring. “Yes. I’m sorry I worried you; and I’m sorry for lying to you about it. I wanted to keep it a surprise as best I could. I didn’t know how else to go about it.”

She smiled and shook her head. “It’s okay, I understand. I’m just glad to know this was what you were stressed about and nothing more pressing; like gambling debts or something like that.”

“I only gamble when it comes to Declan Nash, you know that,” he smirked.

“Of course,” she laughed. “How silly of me.”

He leaned in close and rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, Nat.”

“I love you more.”

He smiled and kissed her soundly on the lips, very nearly forgetting what they were talking about. “Never.”

A/N: Hope you guys liked it! 💙

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @paulfwesley @ethansdique @openheartfanfics @perriewinklenerdie @little-flowers-on-heaven @stateofgracious @coffeeheartaddict @liaromancewriter @potionsprefect @mm2305 @gryffindordaughterofathena @actuallybored @writer-ish @queencarb @takeharryandgo @lsvdw-blog @itsjustwinter @imaneditorthankyouverymuch-deac @chaoticchopshopheart @ohchoices @maurine07 @oldminniemcg @parisa-kh @shanzay44 @uberamsey @izzyourresidentlawyer @adiehardfan @custaroonie @mia143 @a-crepusculo @takemyopenheart @toadfrog26 @quixoticdreamer16 @barbean @headoverheelsforramsey @natureblooms24 @choicesaddict5 @jerzwriter

#bexwritesstuff #open heart fic #ethan ramsey #natalie cusack #ethan x natalie #open heart mc #ethan x mc #open heart choices

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