Hello!!! Thank you for choosing my blog, my name is mon, I’m currently eighteen years old & and I go by she/her pronouns. English is not my first language so I hope you can put up with my awkward writing! I write mostly fluff and comfort, from a wide range of fandoms. This is headquarters Procrastination Station, so please bear with me as a try my best to write. Hope you enjoy!! :0
weird!reader who sets her eyes on Whitaker... fem reader, 0.5k (accepting request!)
The day you met Dennis Whitaker was the day you started planning your together. Was it a little weird and boarding the line of crazy? Maybe. But you have been a planner since day one. It only made sense you would be planning your future together hours after meeting him for the first time.
You didn't make it obvious at first, knowing it might scare him away and land you in an awkward meeting with Robby and an HR representative, but after a few weeks you decided you worked together well enough to start showing your true intentions.
It’s a tough day. You're both leaning against a wall, taking deep breaths to recollect yourselves when you drop the bomb, you try to catch his eyes, but he avoids them, breathing heavily. “You should start to think about where you're taking me on Saturday.” You say it like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
He whirls his head, catching your eyes for the first time. “What?” his voice is weak and strained, he swallows thickly.
“Saturday. You're not on the schedule, so that's the day you'll take me out.” Your gaze and voice is firm.
Dennis glances back and forth from your face, as if expecting you to spontaneously start laughing. “I'm sorry,” he stutters, “I'm really confused right now.”
You don't flinch, “I have it planned, I would show you but my planners in my locker,” you shrug, "You'll take me on a date, and then another one in two weeks, maybe a third but probably not. Then you'll ask me to be your partner, I still haven't figured out where yet but we can come up with something together,”
“I'm going to do all that?” The situation was so odd that for a fraction of a second, Dennis thinks you can see the future.
You pause, thinking, “Well…you don't have to, obviously. I don't have any blackmail material on you yet, you can say no.”
He furrows his brows, “Wait–is this, are you asking me on a date?”
You shake your head with a frown. “No. I'm telling you we are going on a date. That is not asking.”
“So…I can say no?” Not that he would, he thinks.
“I guess.”
An awkward silence starts on his side. You are humming to a song he can't name. A sweet smile on your face.
He clears his throat, makes a rash decision, and plays with his own fingers. “What–what time Saturday?”
You straighten only a fraction. “Seven on the dot. Get me flowers, but not ones that are fully bloomed. Those only last days, if that.”
Dennis nods slowly, “Okay, yeah I can do that.”
“We’ll go to my favorite pizza place, you will ask me about my upbringing, and I will ask about yours.”
“Yeah, yeah. Sounds like a, um, plan.”
“It is a plan. It's in my planner.”
Dennis doesn't know where to go from there, so he simply brings his gaze to the ground.
You don't seem to mind, slowly extending your hand and patting his shoulder softly. He jumps, and you simply gaze at him with a small smile before practically skipping away.
Dennis can only watch you go, eyes full of confusion, mouth open. Right before Trinity walks by him, calling out “Close your mouth loser.”
