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ray-ray-writings · 3 years

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A Hairy Situation-Technoblade

On that note, this is a Techno x GN! reader in the dreamsmp

#282, 291, 343 from this list. Check out my masterlist here

When Wilbur and Tommy leave on an adventure, Techno and Y/N are left alone together. Y/N “helps” Techno in his potato farm and offers to braid his hair. Tensions rise as more and more time passes.

“What do you mean you’re going on a multiple day journey into the nether?” I all but shouted at Tommy and Wilbur. The two brothers looked at each other before turning back to me with raised eyebrows. “We mean exactly what we said. We need blaze rods and we have to find a different nether fortress than the one everyone else uses, you know, because we were banished.” Wilbur explained as if it should be obvious. I let a pout take over my lips, “Well how come I can’t come with you?” The two brothers gave me a deadpan stare. “Because you’re terrified of hostile mobs,” Tommy deadpanned. “Well it’s not my fault they’re scary and always trying to kill me…” I trailed off. “Can you at least take Techno with you? I don’t want to be stuck here in the ravine with him for days on end.” “Believe me sweetheart, I’m not too stoked about it either.”

The new voice that came from behind me caused me to jump in surprise, “But I’m needed here. My potatoes will be ready soon, I need some more materials, and someone has to watch over you and make sure you don’t die.” Techno listed. I let out an offended gasp and turned my complete attention to the pigman. “How dare you. I am a complete, functional, grown adult. I do not need a babysitter! I can take care of myself.” The three brothers all just stared at me, not amused. I let out a sigh, “You call for help because you get startled by a zombie one time and they never let you live it down.” I mumbled to myself. “Y/N it’s been more than one time. It’s once a day.” Wilbur stated carefully.

I sighed in annoyance, but also knew he was right, “Okay fine. Whatever. When are you guys leaving?” I questioned, turning my attention back to Wilbur and Tommy. Wilbur checked his sundial before answering. “Now. It’s late evening now and I’d like to get out of here before nightfalls. You know, mobs and whatever.” I hummed and nodded at his response. “You have everything you need?” I asked, looking over the two. Wilbur gave me a soft smile before nodding. “We have everything. Food, armor, building blocks, compass. We’ve got it all mom” He teased. I playfully rolled my eyes at his words, “Okay son. Give me a hug and get going then.” I teased, holding my arms out to the tall man.

Wilbur let out a laugh, but complied, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing me tight. He let go and moved to Techno and gave him a short hug. While he did that I turned my attention to Tommy, “You too boy,” I giggled, extending my arms and slowly walking toward him. Tommy scoffed and rolled his eyes but also complied. I squeezed the boy tightly to my chest before letting him go. He then also moved onto Techno, giving his other brother a small hug. After hugs, the four of us walked over to the nether portal and Wilbur and Tommy stepped into it. “Be careful” I called out. “We will!” Wilbur responded. And then they were gone.

I sighed at the disappearance of the boys. “They’ll be okay,” Techno reassured me, reading my mind. I turned around and gave the pink haired man a tight lipped smile, “I know I just worry.” I admitted, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. Techno hummed in response. “Do you want to come help me in my potato farm to get your mind off of it for a little bit?” Techno being nice to me? More likely than you think. Nonetheless, I agreed, “Yeah. I’d like that. Thanks Techno.”

*Time skip*

Me helping in Techno’s potato farm actually only boiled down to Techno doing all of the work, harvesting and planting, and me sitting on top of a chest just hanging out and chatting with him. I watched as the pink haired man’s face got more and more covered in not only sweat, but dirt. Every once in a while, Techno would blow out a breath of air, trying desperately to move his long pink hair out of his face and when that didn’t work, he would bring his dirty hand up to his face to move the hair manually. In doing so, he transferred that dirt from his hand onto his face. After watching him do this for a solid hour, I finally let the question slip off of my tongue.

“Hey, do you want me to braid your hair.” Techno’s head snapped up from the ground and turned to me, “What?” He questioned. I cleared my throat as my cheeks flushed at the sudden attention, “Nevermind. It was stupid. You obviously-” “What did you say?” Techno questioned again, cutting off my self-deprecating rant. I cleared my throat once more, “I asked if I could braid your hair. Your hair seems to keep falling in your face and it would be easier to work if it was tied back. So I was wondering if you wanted me to braid it for you.” I stated shyly.

Techno stared at me for a few moments, but then he let out a laugh and set his hoe down. “You know what. That’s not actually a bad idea. I would like that actually.” My eyes widened in shock as the man walked toward me. “Oh!” I squeeked, “Okay! Well here!” I said, standing up from the chest, patting the spot where I was sitting. “Sit here and I’ll get started!” I announced.

Techno complied and followed my orders. I moved so that I was standing behind him. I hesitantly brought my hand up and rested it on Techno’s pink head. I slowly ran my fingers through his hair, detangling it from it’s knots. Techno let out a sigh in contentment as my fingers massaged his scalp. I carefully separated his hair into separate strains and began the braid.

We sat in a comfortable silence as I worked. Techno was surprisingly complacent as I twisted his hair the way I wanted. I had decided to go with a french braid as it was simple, effective and would hold for a long time. “There,” I let out softly as I secured the end of the braid with an extra hair tie of mine, “all done.” I informed. Techno stood from the chest and turned around to face me. Techno brought a hand up to the back of his head and felt down the braid. A small smile appeared on the pink-haired man’s face. I was taken back. Techno looked good. Really good. I usually don’t get to see him without his hair covering his face. And I almost never get to see him smile, you know cause he hates me sometimes.But now, because of the braid. I could see him clearly and he was handsome.

“Thank you for this.” Techno said sincerely, breaking me out of . I gave the man a shy smile, cheeks now flushing, “It’s no problem,” I told him with a half shrug. Techno turned back to his field and continued his work. I sat back down on the chest and allowed my eyes to focus on the pink haired man once more. Do I like Techno? My heart sure seems to think so. How could my brain not notice this before? As I thought it over, my heart pounded harder. I liked Technoblade. All the teasing and poking fun at the pink haired man was my sad attempt at hiding and burying those feelings deep down.

“You okay over there?” Techno questioned, breaking me out of my trance. My eyes focused on his really handsome face, “Oh yeah. Just thinking,” I admitted. Techo hummed, leaning against his hoe. “Whatcha thinking about?” “You look really cute covered in dirt.” I blurted out. I slapped my hand over my mouth. “I cannot believe I just said that,” I mumbled into my hand. I looked up and met Techno’s wide eyes. He then proceeded to clear his throat and laugh, “The way you flirt is shameful. Telling someone they look good covered in dirt? Kind of cringe.” “I just rarely ever see your whole face because it’s usually your hair’s covering it. You’re just very handsome.” I admitted, cheeks now flushing a deep red. Techno’s cheeks were now also flushing a deep red. “Oh, well… Thank you.” “Anytime. I think you’re pretty cool and you deserve to be complimented.”

Oh gosh. Why did I make that comment? We fell into a tense silence. After a few minutes, I let out a huge yawn. “I think I’m going to head to bed now… Don’t stay up too late, okay?” I told him, standing up from the chest. Techno didn’t look at me but hummed in acknowledgement. I turned and started out of the farm room, but then I paused at the door and turned back, “Goodnight Techno” I wished the man softly. Techno slowly looked up and over at me and gave me a soft smile making my heart flutter, “Goodnight Y/N. Sweet dreams.” He murmured. “Thanks.” I responded before turning and completely walking out of the room.

I sighed and rubbed my face as I made my way to my makeshift room. I really hope that my words didn’t just mess everything up between us. I let out a yawn as I laid down on my bed. I’ll just deal with it in the morning.

*Time skip. The next day*

I groaned as I rolled out of bed the next morning. I yawned as I made my way out of my room. I was greeted with the pink haired man sitting at the oak table that I had built for our little base reading a book. “Good morning” I greeted the man softly, turning toward our food chest and pulling out a little something for breakfast. “Morning” Techno greeted gruffly, glancing up at me. As I looked over at him, I realized the dirt from his face was gone, but the braid in his hair remained intact. For some reason, my heart fluttered.

I quickly turned my attention back to what I was doing.“Do you want anything for breakfast?” I asked, looking over the things in our food chest. “Uh, I’ll have whatever you’re having. Thanks” He said, before turning his attention back to his book. I pulled out a few eggs and two steaks. I made quick work of making breakfast.

“Here you go.” I set the plate of breakfast in front of the PVP God with a small smile. “Thank you,” Techno hummed, setting his book down and turning to his breakfast. I sat down across from him and began to enjoy my own breakfast.

We sat in a comfortable silence as we ate. Towards the end of our meal, Techno cleared his throat, causing me to look up. “Hey, can I ask you a question?” Techno asked nervously. I quirked a brow at his words, “You just did. But if you want to ask another, go ahead” I teased. Techno’s face matched his hair as it turned a light shade of pink. Techno cleared his throat once more, “Okay. Well I was wondering…. Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?” Techno questioned. It was now my face’s turn to turn pink. “It’s okay if you didn’t. I know that sometimes we tease each other and if that was what that was it’s okay. I just wasn’t sure and-”

“Techno” I called, interrupting the pig man’s words. “I meant them. Everything I said to you yesterday. I meant it. I think you’re really cool and funny and handsome and I really really like you.” I admitted, not looking at the man sitting across from me, “I didn’t mean to blurt them out like that yesterday though. I was just so caught up in looking at you that I realized everything all at once and I just blurted them out. If you don’t like me back, that’s okay. We can just pretend like-” “-Y/N-” “-nothing ever happened and we can go-” “Y/N!” “-back to normal and-”

Something covered my lips, cutting off my words. I then realized it was Techno’s lips that covered my own. My eyes widened in surprise, but then immediately fluttered closed as I relaxed into the kiss. A hesitant hand reached up and cupped my cheek, pulling me even closer. All too soon, Techno pulled away from the kiss, but remained rather close, his hand still resting on my cheek. “I like you Y/N, I have for a while” Techno admitted softly. My lips curled up into a grin. “Well you’re in luck Mr. Blood God, because I like you too.” I told him with a proud grin. Techo rolled his eyes but let out a laugh, “I know you goof. You told me as you were rambling and then refused to let me get in a word.” Techno teased. I laughed at his words, “Well I’m sorry I don’t handle rejection well. And therefore didn’t let you get in a word so you couldn’t reject me.” I rambled out. Techno laughed, “That’s big brain,” “The biggest”

The two of us stared at each other for a while, just smiling. Techno let his hand fall off my cheek and leaned back a little bit. “Y/N?” He asked. “Techno?” I responded. “Do you want to be my partner?” I grinned at his question, “That depends. Do you want to be my partner?” I questioned. Techno rolled his eyes but quickly leaned forward and pressed another kiss to my lips. “I think you know the answer to that” I grinned and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, “I think I do.”

Our conversation was cut off by the sound of the nether portal activating. Techno and I exchanged confused looks. The two of us stood up and rushed toward the obsidian structure. Wilbur and Tommy stumbled out of the portal. “Hey guys!” Tommy greeted with a huge smile and wave. “Hey! Why are you guys back so soon?” I questioned, rushing forward and pulling the two boys into a tight hug. “Turns out,” Wilbur began after I let the two go, “There’s a nether fortress less than 1500 blocks away from our portal. And we made sure it is not the same one everyone else uses.” Wilbur explained. I nodded my head at his words.

“That’s so lucky,” Techno said, drawing the attention to him. “What happened to your hair?” Tommy blurted out. Techno immediately brought a hand up to his head. “Oh, Y/N braided it.” Tommy’s head whipped to me, “You braided his hair?!” Tommy yelled. I furrowed my brow as his question, “Obviously. He just told you that” I stated. Wilbur and Tommy stared in disbelief. “What?” I asked, a little self-conscious. “Techno never lets anyone touch his hair.” Wilbur said softly.

My head whipped to Techno whose face was now red. “What? Then why’d you let me braid your hair?” Techno gave me a half-shrug. “What can I say? I’m a simp” the pink haired man admitted. Laughter burst out of my mouth. I cannot believe he actually said that. My laughter must have been contagious because the three brothers also began to laugh. “Techno!” I whined, walking up to him. Techno, still laughing, wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close to his chest, “It’s true!” He defended himself, laughter dying down.

“Woah! Woah! Woah! When did this happen?” Tommy questioned. The two of us looked back at Wilbur and Tommy, “Ummm. Literally two seconds before you guys came home.” I told them, stepping back from my partner. “Well in that case. Tommy and I are going to go put away the blaze rods and then we’re probably going to nap.” Wilbur said, yawning at the end of the sentence. The two of us nodded in acknowledgement as the two of them walked further into the ravine.

“Well… What do you want to do now?” I questioned my new boyfriend. Techno gave me a smile before wrapping me in another hug. “You wanna come help me in my potato farm again?” I giggled and nodded, “I would love nothing more”

There you go! I hope you enjoyed! If so, be sure to leave a like or a reblog or a reply!!

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strawberrymilkgeorge · 3 years

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Part Two. Jackbox Shenanigans

warnings: swearing word count: 2.6k (not including pictures) behind the screen (irl dream x reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

Y/n flinched awake, startled by the sounds traveling from the kitchen. Once again, the frosty air pricked her skin, trying to convince her to not move, to stay in bed under the warm blankets. Despite the feeling pulling her into her bed, she rubbed her eyes and sat up, grabbing her phone from her nightstand. Texts from Karl flooded her screen and she replied as she took her comforter off her mattress and wrapped it around herself. She pattered to the source of the noise to find her roommate was making food.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Naomi asked, eyes wide with concern as she looked at Y/n. "I dropped a pan."

Y/n, who was observing the world through one squinted eye, shook her head and she sat at the counter in the kitchen. "No, I should be awake anyway."

"You're usually awake much earlier. Late night?"

Y/n nodded. "George streamed and we all talked for a little after."

"Oh, yeah, I watched his stream this morning..." she started, eyes focused on the food in front of her but Y/n still caught the mischievous glint in her roommate's eyes.

"Of course you did," Y/n laughed through a yawn. "That's your lover."

Naomi rolled her eyes. "Maybe if you gave me his number he would be."

"He doesn't give it to many people. I just barely got it and I've been friends with him for a year. I'm pretty sure Karl doesn't even have it."

Naomi groaned, though Y/n knew it was a joke... for the most part. She got another text from Karl, and consulted Naomi for a second opinion.

"Should I post this?" Y/n asked, lazily holding up her phone with a picture on the screen. Naomi squinted as she looked back over her shoulder. "Karl keeps yelling at me too."

"Yeah! That's a cute outfit. Make sure to credit Karl or he'll yell at you for that as well."

"No chance I'm doing that."

Incoming FaceTime... karol <3

Y/n hit accept and held the phone up to make a face at Karl. He mimicked the position. "Hello, sir."

"Hello, ma'am."

"What are you doing?" she asked him, walking to the bathroom to brush her teeth, her comforter dragging on the floor behind her as it continued to protect her from the cold.

Karl got distracted and started messing with something out of the camera view. "Um, trying to figure out what to do for my stream tonight. What about you?"

"I'm waiting for you to give me a fit check!" Y/n yelled. Karl quickly looked at the camera and smiled. He set his phone down on his desk and ran backward so his whole body was in frame. He posed awkwardly a few different ways before running back and resuming his position.

"Yes!" Y/n hyped with a mouthful of toothpaste. "Let's go, Karl! Karl with the old man sweater!!"

He giggled. "You're the one that told me to buy it."

"Because it's sick. Doesn't mean it didn't belong to an old man before you."

Karl pouted before his face lit up. "Guess what. I met a girl."

"Oh?" Y/n cooed. "Where? Do you have pictures? Is she cute?"

"She's Jimmy's new cameraman. Camerawoman. I don't have pictures, and yes. She's very cute." His cheeks turned red and Y/n smiled, flipping off the bathroom light and heading to her closet. She threw her comforter back on the bed and tried to pick out an outfit.

"Come on, bud, elaborate. What's her name? Have you asked her out yet?"

"You don’t get to know her name, I don’t want to jinx anything. Plus, you’ll just look ‘Mr Beast crew’ and find out anyway. Also, no, I haven’t. I'm pretty sure she thinks I hate her because I have not said a single word to her. I get so nervous when she's around I freeze up and just like... act weird. And then as soon as she's gone, Chris freaking roasts me so bad."

"Aw, I can teach you how to flirt if you want!"

"Yeah, okay," he scoffed, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"What's with the attitude? I'm great at flirting."

"No, you're not. I watched Gogy's stream last night."

"What does that have anything to do with anything?"

"I heard the way you spoke to Dream."

"What?!"

"You have zero game, Y/n. Absolutely none. Zilch, if you will."

"Yeah, because I wasn't flirting with him?"

"Not successfully, at least."

"Karl, what?" Y/n laughed but she was so confused. "No part of me was trying to flirt with anyone in that stream."

"Oh, come on," Karl groaned. "Don't do this again. Don't pretend to not like a guy and then cry to me when you're wack ass attempts don't win him over."

"Karl," Y/n started, looking directly at him. "I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about. I wasn't flirting with him. I do not like him."

"I'm just saying, you talk about him a lot. Like, you always panic when he interacts with your posts because you're scared he's going to DM you right after. And you gush about him a lot."

"I do not gush. I admire the hard work he puts into his videos but I talk the same about him as I do with George and Sapnap. The only difference is I'm friends with them and not Mr. Minecraft. He's intimidating, that doesn't mean I have a crush on him."

Karl stared for a moment, trying to read Y/n's expression to detect any lies. "You'd tell me if you did, right?"

"Karl, I tell you everything. I'd tell you if I murdered your family." They both laughed. "It's impossible to hide anything from you, you're my best friend."

"Okay, sweet, but please don't murder my family, just to be clear."

"I won't. I love your mom too much."

"Well, how was meeting Dream, then? Despite apparently not being in love with him?"

"It was cool. Terrifying because it felt very forced but the four of us hung out on the call after George ended his stream and he was much more relaxed."

"That's true. Aren't we all?"

"Not you! You're the exact same person on and off camera. Just a little ball of giggles."

Karl giggled which made them both laugh more. Suddenly, as if he completely forgot until that moment, Karl sat up quickly and yelled, "What am I going to do for the stream?"

Y/n shrugged. "See if anyone wants to play Jackbox. Chat always loves those and it's relatively easy to throw together last minute. You just need to find people that are free to play."

"Genius. Who should we invite?"

"We?"

"Yeah. It was your idea, you have to play."

"But, I've never played! And I barely know all your friends so I wouldn't get half the inside jokes. I'd be a boring addition."

"Please? They're your friends too! You just talked to Sapnap and George for four hours yesterday and George was the only one playing anything. That's friendship if I've ever seen it."

"But... others.... like literally everyone besides Sap and George...."

"Things like this are how you get to know them better. Besidessss, you're never boring."

"Fine, I'll play."

"YES!" he shouted. "Okay, who should we invite?"

**********

Y/n huffed and scooted her chair closer to her desk. She pulled up Discord and hovered over the voice chat everyone was in. An overwhelming number of voices chaotically spoke over each other as soon as she joined.

"Oh no," she mumbled.

"AYYEE!!" a voice yelled, the green bubble lighting around Quackity's name confirming her suspicions.

"Aye," she said back less enthusiastic. "Hi everyone."

"She's here!" George cheered.

Y/n could hear Sapnap huff. "Finally. Geesh."

"This isn't even your stream, calm down." Y/n's eyes scanned the names on the left to read who else was involved in tonight's games. She had suggested a few people to Karl but wasn't sure about the final list. Besides the boys who had already greeted her were BadBoyHalo and Dream.

"Hello, Bugsy! It's nice to meet you! I'm BadBoyHalo."

Y/n smiled widely at his voice. "Hi, BadBoyHalo! Nice to meet you too."

Her eyes slowly traveled to the last name on the list, which had yet to greet her. She wasn't bitter, but she was curious why he hadn't said anything yet. The boys hyped up him talking about her so much but she had yet to feel that energy from him. She picked at the bottom of her hoodie, eyes darting between the names as they lit up when someone spoke.

"Is Dream still AFK?" Sapnap asked.

"I think so," Bad replied.

Maybe that's the only reason he hadn't said anything. Y/n felt stupid for thinking it had anything to do with her.

"He's probably coding something or something like that," George teased.

"Haha nerdy ass man," Quackity cackled.

"Language."

"Don't you also code shit, George?" Sapnap called out. "You're probably helping him test something after this, huh? As Quackity said, nerdy ass man."

"You know what, Sapnap? I'm not sure I like your attitude all that much."

Y/n smiled. Despite feeling nervous, she was already having fun just listening to everyone talk. The real nerves would kick in when they were live in front of tens of thousands of people and she would have to be funny.

A message popped up in the general chat, notifying everyone that Karl was joining the voice call soon so they shouldn't say anything bad.

"Everyone say something weird," Quackity directed.

Discord dinged and Karl's name joined the list on the side. "AAAHHHH-!" he started yelling over everyone to let them know he was here in case they were saying anything bad. With his luck, they were going to say stuff anyway to mess with him.

"So, yeah, that's how I lost my virginity," Quackity said as if he just finished a story.

"To a prostitute?" Sapnap added quickly. "Wow, I never thought you... oh Karl!"

"Language!" Bad gasped.

"What the..." Karl laughed loudly. "What did I just join?"

"Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry," Quackity apologized, which was hard to make out since he was laughing so hard, surprised at what Sapnap added to his joke.

"Bad, you can't say language about a prostitute," Sapnap defended. "That's really rude of you. Maybe it's a little unconventional but they're just tryna make some money the best way they know how."

George laughed with Quackity as Bad sputtered. "I-I said language about what Quackity said!"

"What, virginity?" Karl asked innocently and Bad yelled again.

"Bad hates people who have had sex!" Y/n called, causing Quackity to laugh loudly.

"Bad! How could you?! That's so messed up!"

"Wait, guys, is everyone here?" Karl asked.

"Dream isn't. We don't know where he went."

Karl groaned and started typing something, presumably yelling at Dream to join.

"Let's goooo! We're popping off!" Quackity started saying, stalling. "We're popping off!" George joined him, becoming absolute fools to keep the chat entertained.

"Okay, he's here!" Karl said. "Everyone's here!"

"I'm here, I'm here, sorry. I was... yeah, sorry," Dream stuttered out.

"Welcome back, Dream!" Bad chirped.

"Hello!" he replied. Unexpectedly, his next greeting was directed at Y/n. "Hi, Bug."

Y/n instantly got shy for no discernable reason. She blamed it on his voice and its ability to manipulate emotions any way he wanted. That and she was getting attention from someone first. "Hi," she squeaked back, hoping the contrast of her icy hands would cool her face enough to focus on the game.

"Bugsy, you are adorable," Bad stated simply.

"Sapnap! What did you just send me?" George asked loudly, and just like that, the attention was off of her and she could breathe again.

"What?" Sapnap feigned innocence.

This was going to be a long game.

"Let's play!" Karl decided. "Should we warm up with some Quippy?"

Y/n focused intensely on her answers, silently hoping the others would find her funny.

"Oh my gosh," she mumbled as everyone else finished writing. "Y'all, I'm about to get Quiplashed so hard. Don't make fun of me."

"I seriously doubt it," Dream said. "You can't possibly be worse than George at this game."

"Shut up, we always- it's like 3 am my time. I can't, like, think of things 'cause my brain isn't functioning."

"Yeah, that's why," Sapnap teased.

"Surreee," Dream said.

The first round wasn't too bad. Y/n was in 5th place but she got quite a few laughs so she didn't care too much about where she stood. She got a notification from Dream on Twitter as everyone laughed at one of Quackity's answers.

Y/n looked back at her screen and saw the new prompt and answers. She read them quickly as everyone was laughing and with a few seconds left to choose, voted for the one on the left. It was funnier anyway.

She loosened up substantially after another round, and she knew it was mostly because Dream had reached out to her. Something about him comforted her and made her feel safe, which warmed her heart.

"Bugsy! What the hell, that's so messed up. You're so messed up," Quackity yelled, laughing at the answer on the screen. They were playing Survive the Internet and her comment got taken way out of context, just as the game intended.

"Oh my gosh!" Karl cackled loudly. "Bugsy, I didn't know you felt that way. Oh my gosh? They're just kids?? Bugsy out the gang?"

Y/n hid her face in her hands and laughed. "Noooo!! Wait I never knew- I didn't know I was ever in the gang?"

"She really said, 'infant children? slaughter them all'," Sapnap joked.

"You know, I think you'd get along really well with Technoblade," Dream added. "Though his specialty is orphans, as it appears."

"No, no, no, whoever wrote that heading is SO messed up!" Y/n defended, rereading the heading that made her comment look bad. She knew it was a game but all the attention on her was making her embarrassed. "Who would think to put that?"

"Everyone cancel Busgy!" Karl yelled.

"Karl, no! You're supposed to be my best friend!"

"I don't know how I feel about my best friend killing children..."

"Karl!!"

"Nooo," Bad protested softly. "I like Bugsy. Don't cancel her."

"Everyone vote!"

The article with Y/n's name turned out to be Dream's. "Dream! What the hell is wrong with you?" she yelled, causing him to wheeze loudly.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I wanted point."

The whole night ended up being like that. Y/n had a lot of fun and by the end, she felt a lot more comfortable with all of them. Quackity, Karl, and Sapnap were loud and very high energy while George and Bad were quieter. Dream was half and half, sometimes matching Quackity's volume and sometimes going a while without saying a word. Overall, Y/n had a lot of fun and hoped to let back in the gang in the future.

**********

PREVIOUS • NEXT

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A/N: WOOO PART TWOOO!! Hope you guys enjoyed this part! Also thank you so much for all the love on the first part!! I did not expect it to get as much attention as it did!!!!!

we clearly haven’t got to dream and yn being close yet bc they literally met the day before this but i added a small little dream/yn moment :] pls let me know how you liked this part!!!!!!!!!!!!

taglist: OPEN (at the time) @hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @smileyyuta @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb @letsloveimagines @erwinss @just-a-stan

#rpf #real person fiction #dream x reader #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #dreamwastaken smau #dream smau #social media fiction #social media au

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dreamwritesimagines · 3 years

Text

Twisted 20 - The Compass [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood.

Word Count: 4000

Summary: Coming home can be unpleasant.

After getting a phone call from the FBI, you were now sure of one thing:

Karma really needed another hobby other than messing with you, and this break up was definitely not going the way it was supposed to go.

For starters, people who broke up with each other were not supposed to see each other this much. You had different lives, different social circles, different jobs and somehow universe kept pushing you two in each other’s space.

To make things worse, the last time you talked to Garcia she had offhandedly mentioned Luke dragging Spencer to a nightclub much to his displeasure and introducing him to a friend of his. Naturally, your mind was full of images of Spencer in a happy relationship, eventually moving to a house in the suburbs with her and having kids and all that.

“I don’t know what Luke is thinking,” Garcia said, “But I’m two seconds away from pulling him aside and giving him a piece of my mind. Reid is obviously still not over you, ambushing him to introduce him to a girl won’t change that.”

Needless to say, you had been in a terrible mood for the last couple of days.

“What’s taking her so long?” you checked your wristwatch and Nolan looked at you over his newspaper.

“Oh she’s talking to the board of the charity auction,” he said, “There are some last minute changes, apparently.”

You heaved a sigh and checked the time again, “I can’t stay for long,” you murmured and Nolan raised his brows.

“Oh? In a hurry?”

“Me and Spencer and…well, some of his team will go by the woods,” you said, “They found some bones near dad’s cabin close to the weekend house and they think it might help me remember where the rest is buried.”

He made a face, “That’s disturbing.”

“Nah, I thought going on a dead body remains hunt with my ex in the woods near one of my childhood trauma places would be romantic,” you deadpanned, “You don’t do that with your exes?”

“Not really?”

“Oh man you’re missing out.”

He let out a chuckle and shook his head, “I take it things haven’t improved on the heartbreak front?”

“I wouldn’t know, apparently his friend is setting him up with someone.”

“Mm, let me guess,” he mused, “Your plan is to do nothing about it?”

“No, I’m actually following your example,” you smiled at him sweetly, “I’ll just wait for decades and hope the girl turns out to be a serial killer.”

He tilted his head. “Touché.”

“Aw thank you,” you pushed at the food in your plate, “No seriously, what can I do? I can’t just go to him and tell him not to date other people. We broke up— I broke up with him.”

“You could explain the reason behind that.”

“I can’t do that.”

He clicked his tongue, “Well then, I suggest you get ready just in case he happens to ask for your help planning his wedding.”

“You’ve been absolutely no help at all Nolan, I appreciate that.”

“I’m offering you my wisdom and you’re not taking it,” he held up his hands, gesturing surrender, “I also suggested to get his superiors to fix a meeting with him to talk to him about certain boundaries and mistakes but…”

“Get his superiors— I’m sorry, what?”

“I play poker with the head of the department he works under.”

“Of course you do.” You sipped your coffee, “When did you suggest that exactly?”

“Oh not to you, to your mother,” he nodded to himself as he saw the look on your face, “Yeah. But then I saw how it could not only damage some professional relationships, but also it’s better to let young people solve their own problems, no matter how easy it is to solve them with an outsider’s influence.”

You pulled your brows together.

“Try again.”

“I asked your mother and she said no.”

“Oh thank God.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Yeah no, don’t do that. We’re not in high school, you know?”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he smiled slightly at the scandalized look on your face.

“Whatever,” you waved a hand in the air, “It’s strange that mom said no though. She doesn’t really like him nowadays, and she keeps listing all his….disadvantages whenever I talk about him.”

“Disadvantages?”

“Mm hm. The other day she said it was maybe for the best in the long run, because he’s an FBI agent so considering his paychecks, we would eventually fight about our future children’s tuition fees.”

Nolan thought for a moment, “She does have a point, considering what FBI pays their agents…”

You blinked a couple of times, “Right,” you said, “That’s exactly why I broke up with him. Because who would be paying for our hypothetical future children’s future tuition fees, yeah. Deal breaker, that one.”

“It could be a contributing factor though—“ he started but you heard your mother’s heels approaching and soon enough she walked into the living room and pressed a kiss on your cheek.

“Darling, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting,” she told you before pecking Nolan on the lips, making him smile, “This whole charity auction, honestly…”

“Do I have to come to that thing?” you looked between them, your brows pulled together in an attempt to make them take pity on you but your mother tilted her head.

“Yes you do.”

“It’s just that…” you heaved a dramatic sigh, “You know, I’m going through a break up—“

“You’ve been going through a break up for more than a month now, you’re not allowed to use that as an excuse.”

“My heart is broken!”

“Good, focus on charity then.”

You rolled your eyes and turned to Nolan, “What’s the real reason she’s dragging me to this?”

“Oh no, I’m not getting caught in this crossfire.”

“Mom?”

She cleared her throat and sipped her coffee, “The other day when I visited Nolan at work, he happened to introduce me to this very handsome Chief Marketing Officer who’s handling—“

“Oh no.”

“Keep in mind that we pay him more than what FBI pays his agents.” Nolan stated, laughing up his sleeve as if he found it hilarious and you scrunched up your nose.

“Nolan, I know you were born in the eighteenth century but that’s actually not a problem we have these days.”

“He’s single,” your mother said as if she wasn’t even listening and you threw your head back, letting out a whine, “He loves dogs and squash—“

“Jesus Christ.”

“Don’t worry, he’s not sitting at our table,” your mother said, “I fixed another surprise for you at our table, and I figured you’d want to keep your options open.”

“Besides, if your ex boyfriend is moving on…” Nolan trailed off and your mother raised her brows.

“Oh, Spencer has a girlfriend now?”

“No!” you said way too loudly and then cleared your throat, “I mean—I don’t care. But I don’t think so, I would’ve heard it.”

“See? More reason for you to meet other people.”

You pouted, “I hate this so much. I can’t believe I’m being dragged into this nonsense only because you guys are making me, this is seriously bullshit…”

“Y/N, do you want some cookies?” Nolan interrupted your grumbling, “One of my assistants brought them from France the other day.”

You scoffed, “How old do you think I—” you paused for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders, “Actually yeah, I’d love some cookies right now.”

***

Unfortunately, when you left your mother’s house you had overestimated the traffic and how long it would take you to get there so by the time you had pulled over by the road leading into the woods, you could only see one FBI car. You didn’t have to wonder who was in it when your eyes caught the sight of Spencer leaning against it and your heart skipped a beat.

“Fuck…” you murmured to yourself and considered for a short second to drive away until others got there, but it was too late. Spencer turned his head, saw your car and stopped dead on his tracks so you heaved a sigh and pushed open the door to step outside. You looked around before you pulled yourself up to sit on the hood before you fished your cigarette pack out of your purse.

“You’re early.” Spencer said and you raised your glances to look at him for a second before lighting your cigarette.

“So are you,” you put the lighter back into your purse, “Came by yourself?”

“Luke is talking with the police.”

“Lovely,” you exhaled the smoke and he crossed his arms, looking up at the sky for a moment before stealing a look at you.

You had no idea what to say to him. After that one day of truce, it was like you were back to being enemies and ignoring each other. The fact that he might have been ready to date another person made you feel even worse if it was possible, especially after that phone call between you. He had said that he was a mess just like you were, he had said you had taken a part of him when you left him, and—

You didn’t even know what you hoped for. You knew it wouldn’t change anything, and yet the thought of him being with someone else was more than enough to make you feel like you were falling off a cliff.

Maybe it was just the truce talking. Maybe he didn’t mean any of that.

Your phone vibrating in your purse made you snap out of your thoughts and you looked at the caller I.D., then frowned and answered.

“Hey, I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“On a Sunday?” Lincoln’s voice reached you, “Who’s the workaholic now?”

“Still you Linc,” you said and Spencer’s head shot up, “What’s up?”

“I just called to let you know that they just moved me to your table.”

You pulled your brows, “I’m sorry, what?”

“At the charity auction. My table was 3, they just e-mailed me to say I’ve been moved to 1.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re the surprise?” you asked, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Somebody needs to stop my mother.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” you said, “I…That’s great, we’ll sit together then. If you like sulking the whole night, we’ll be just fine.”

“Come on, it could be fun.”

“I doubt that.”

“Hey, at least you’re not alone.”

“I’ll drink throughout that night, you sure you can keep up?”

“Do you even know who you’re talking to, you amateur?”

“Oh it’s on.” You smiled slightly and he chuckled.

“I’ll see you at our table then. With drinks.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you said before you hung up, and put the phone back into your purse before you felt Spencer’s burning gaze on you, so you looked up at him.

“What?” you asked and he scoffed a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“Nothing.”

“Professor.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he said, his gaze fixed on the woods and you tilted your head.

“Fine.”

He sucked a breath through his clenched teeth, as if trying to decide whether to say anything or not before you could ask again, Luke approached you two, another car pulling over by your car.

“Hey there.” You greeted Luke as you jumped off the hood and he tilted his head.

“Why are you shorter?”

You motioned at your sneakers, “I figured since we’re going into the woods, heels would be a bad idea.”

“Is this the first time I’m seeing you without heels?”

“Probably.”

“Should we get going?”

JJ stole a look at Spencer and you, then turned to Luke, “Actually, do you mind coming with me to the car for a moment? There’s this file I want to get your opinion on.” She nodded at you, “You guys go ahead if you want.”

You pulled your brows together for a second, trying to understand what was happening but then decided you wouldn’t question it and stepped into the woods, a shiver running down your spine.

It looked way too familiar.

You gritted your teeth and started walking, and it didn’t take long for Spencer to catch up with you.

“So I never got to ask you,” you managed to say after almost ten minutes of complete silence, “That…that blood vial in that petal bowl, whose blood was it?”

“Anthony’s.”

“Right,” you murmured as you kept walking, “Was it….was it something my dad did back then?”

“No.” Spencer said curtly and you looked over your shoulder.

“So then what does it—“

“Are you dating other people?” the words left his lips in a hurry as if he didn’t know how to stop them and you stopped dead on your tracks.

“I beg your pardon?”

He opened his mouth for a moment like he was trying to find the right words but then he closed it and shrugged his shoulders.

“Never mind,” he murmured, walking past you and you gawked after him for a while before you rushed after him.

“No, what was that?”

“Nothing.”

Maybe your whole theory about Spencer being a genius therefore not being able to be jealous wasn’t exactly the truth.

“I’m not— is this about Lincoln?” you held up the phone in your hand before you sped up to catch up with his long strides, “There’s this stupid charity auction bullshit and we’re both attending it, that’s it.”

“Alright,” he murmured, still walking and you let out a breath.

“Spencer!”

“What?” he turned around to look at you, that fire burning in his eyes again, “I said never mind, okay?”

“I’m not dating Lincoln!” you exclaimed “And I— even if I were, at least he’s not someone I met at a nightclub my friends forced me to go, unlike some of us.”

“What does that-” he started but it hit him in a second, “Garcia told you.”

“It came up.”

He raised his brows, “Yeah? How?”

“It just did.” You managed to say even if your cheeks were burning, “So what? You’re going to stand there and ask me that when you’re moving on already?”

“I’m not moving on!” he said as if you had just insulted him, “Besides, you broke up with me remember?”

“Yeah and you wasted no time Spencer, congratulations.” You murmured as you walked past him but as soon as your eyes caught the sight of the huge cabin by the small hill, your breath got caught in your throat and you took a step back, the memory flashing through your mind so fast that the headache hit you out of nowhere.

Your father tugged you by your hand through the woods as you yawned, rubbing at your eyes.

“Are you sleepy honey?”

You nodded, looking up at him,

“Daddy I thought we were going to come here tomorrow, with mom and Mina.” you said as you hugged the huge teddy bear you had brought with you when your father had woken you up and told you that you would be taking a small trip to the cabin.

“We are,” he said, “We will go back home after our hunt is done here.”

“Yeah but mom says Mina and I can’t be outside the cabin at night,” you murmured, “The lake is too close, remember? We might fall in, she says.”

“She’s right, no leaving the cabin by yourself when it’s dark outside,” he said, “Or else no chocolate for a week, you know the rules.”

“Okay, okay…” you yawned again, and your father knelt down so that you could look him in the eye.

“Petal honey, I want you to pay attention,” he said, “Look around. Let’s say you’re in the woods by yourself and you’re hunting. You know how we hunt, right?”

You took a deep breath, “Stab the prey, twist the knife, pull it back and watch them bleed.”

“Very good,” he said, “When you’re hunting in the woods, what’s the first thing you do?”

“Look up at the sky,” you said, “That’s how I know where I am.”

“Good start. How about if your prey is running to get away from you? How do you chase them?”

“People aren’t calm when they’re being hunted,” you repeated what he had told you, “They make noises. I follow that, and wait for them to tire themselves out.”

He nodded, then you both climbed the stairs to the front door of the cabin.

“And what’s the one thing you remember?”

“To stay calm and patient.”

He smiled at you and opened the door to the cabin so that you could see the bloodied person tied to a chair, screaming through the gag.

“Good,” he said, “Let’s go over what we do with the prey, shall we?”

“Y/N!” Spencer’s voice cut through the memory, almost grabbing you and pulling you back to the reality and it was only when you realized you weren’t standing anymore, instead you were on the ground on your knees, gasping for breath.

“I can’t—“ you choked out, pressing a hand over your chest “I—I can’t breathe—“

“Yes you can,” he helped you sit and lean your back to the tree trunk, “You just need to focus on me, alright? Can you breathe with me?”

You sniffled, trying to match your breathing with his and he nodded,

“There you go,” he said with a smile, “You’re doing great. Is it okay if I touch you?”

You nodded your head, still desperate to cling to anything that would protect you from that memory and he entwined his fingers with you.

“Keep your focus on me,” he said as he wiped the teardrop off your cheek with his free hand, awakening a fire right beneath your cheekbone, “Here’s what we’re going to do, you will inhale when I squeeze your hand, exhale when I stop. Can we do that together?”

You inhaled when you felt his grip tightening around your hand, then exhaled when it became loose again.

“Y/N?”

You let out a shaky breath, “Hm?”

“Why are public proposals so bad?”

A teary laugh escaped from your lips, “Professor…”

“No, I want you to tell me,” he said as you inhaled again when he squeezed your hand, “Why are they so bad?”

“Because they—“ you exhaled, “They’re not private.”

“They could be romantic.”

“But they’re not,” you protested, “They’re not romantic. They’re pretentious.”

“Pretentious?” he squeezed your hand once more and you took another breath.

“If you need an audience for something like that, you’re pretentious yeah.” You said as the nausea slowly retreated and he pushed your hair behind your ear before his knuckles brushed over your neck, it lasted only a moment but it was enough for you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled and he offered you a small smile.

“Anytime.”

“Brings back the memories, huh?” you leaned your head back to the tree trunk and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he murmured, “Yeah it really does.”

You pressed your lips together, “Spencer, why are you helping me?” you asked him, taking him by surprise, “With….all this. I thought you hated me.”

He swallowed thickly,

“I can’t hate you,” his voice was almost a murmur, “I wish I could. Trust me, I tried.”

“Guys?” you heard Luke’s voice and you turned your head to see them approaching, “What’re you—what happened?”

“We’ll meet you there in a second,” Spencer said, shooting JJ a look and she nodded.

“Okay,” she said, “Come on Luke.”

They walked past you to the cabin and you looked up at the sky for a couple of seconds before willing yourself to focus on him again.

“You remembered something,” he said and you nodded.

“A memory,” you managed to say, “I…Spencer, there are dead bodies in there.”

“I know, we found bones in the backyard—“

“No,” you cut him off, “You don’t understand. There are dead bodies in the cabin.”

He pulled his brows together and you pulled your hand out of his before standing up on shaky legs, still holding onto the tree for support.

“Y/N, we can wait-” he said but you shook your head and made your way to the cabin until you reached the stairs. Every cell in your body was screaming at you to run away, but you managed to force yourself to climb the stone stairs and stopped for a moment at the door as Spencer stepped to stand next to you. Everything looked exactly the same as you had left them all those years ago right before your father was arrested.

A shudder went down your spine, the same as the one you had gotten when you woke up in your apartment after being drugged. Something in here was way too dangerous for you and it wouldn’t rest until you were at its mercy so you had to get away before it could dig its claws under your skin, but-

You had to do this. You could do this.

You had been through much worse than this before.

You had survived your father, you had survived his copycats, you had survived everything thrown your way so far, you could survive this as well.

You rolled your shoulders back and stepped into the huge living room, the memory pushing at your mind but you shook your head, forcing yourself to focus.

“We can leave if you want,” Spencer murmured and you dug your fingernails into your palms hard enough to hurt.

There was a reason why police couldn’t find anything in this goddamn place when they first checked. You had repressed the memory just like you had repressed the rest, and now that you were here…

The memories about the cabin were swirling in your head, each more terrifying than other.

“Luke.”

Luke turned his head, “Yeah?”

“Do you mind stepping aside for a moment?” you asked, “Actually, if no one could—if no one could stand on the rug that’d be ideal. Thanks.”

JJ shot you a look but nodded at the two other agents walking around the living room and you slowly approached the magnetic chess board by the coffee table, holding out your hand over the pieces for a second. Panic roared through you but you gritted your teeth and moved the pawn, then put the bishop where your father taught you to put it way back then.

“It’ll be like a treasure hunt, but you need to keep it a secret,” he had told you, “Pinky swear?”

You turned the queen in hand your for a moment, then put it right next to the bishop and the small basement trapdoor which was impossible to see even if someone was looking for it clicked under the rug. Spencer froze for a moment before he and Luke pulled the rug off the floor and pulled open the hatch but the smell coming from downstairs made you cover your mouth.

“Stay here,” Luke told the agents as he went downstairs and Spencer followed him right before JJ did. You stalled there for a moment, trying to repress the fear pinning you to your spot before you stepped closer to the stairs leading down to the secret basement.

“Miss—“ the agent said but you ignored him and made your way down. JJ and Spencer already had their flashlights on as Luke held his gun, ready to pull the trigger at any unexpected movement.

“You can’t be here.” Spencer told you but you weren’t even mood to snap back at him. You dragged your fingertips on the wall until you found the switch and turned the light on, the smell getting worse and worse.

There were three huge boxes by the wall, all tightly shut and you had a feeling—

No, not a feeling. What you had was a memory and you knew exactly what was in them.

Spencer turned to you, apparently ready to tell you to go upstairs again but as soon as his eyes caught something over your shoulder, he froze, his jaw clenching. You could feel your heartbeat getting faster and faster as Luke stopped dead on his tracks.

“Y/N, go upstairs.” Spencer said, his tone way too controlled until you turned your head, “No wait, don’t look—“

But it was too late. The bloodied message on the wall made you gasp as you took a step back, unable to look away as that familiar dread filled you once more, the simple line causing goosebumps to rise on your skin;

Welcome home Petal.

Chapter 21

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer #reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader #twisted

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dandelionflower · 3 years

Note

I saw on one of your post that said to send you prompts sooo... can I request A childhood friend AU either Felix or Marinette moves away and then reuniting in college in France at age 14 in Felix's school with the Quantic Kids.

It was a pretty normal day, which probably meant something was going to happen. If it wasn’t a normal day, something was bound to happen as well; life in Paris hadn’t been normal in months. It being a normal day meant that Marinette was late. Super late. Way, way, so very late she might as well be early for the next thing kind of late. So late that- (oh, she’s beginning to catch onto why she’s so late.)

She knew even as she was shoving toothpaste into her bag for Tikki and brushing her teeth with frosting (wait, switch that) that she would be late, and her erratic movements were enough to convince her parents to write her an excuse. Not that anyone could blame her; she had to deal with three akumas in one night. Three akumas. Who could blame her, or anyone for that matter, for being late when there were three emotionally-stunted teens each wreaking havoc upon the city? It was a wonder that anyone else got to class on time, except for Alya, who Marinette was pretty sure didn’t sleep.

Marinette kissed both parents goodbye, thanking them again for the excuse note. They shoved a box of pastries into her hands, as was their habit whenever she didn’t leave school fast enough.

They had done it since her first day at her new school, when she was tiny and frightened of new people; having the same best friend since birth would do that. Her father had shoved a box of macaroons in her arms and her mother placed a bracing arm on her back. They told her what to do and she tried her hardest to follow their instructions, standing up straight at the front of the class, introducing herself, and offering cookies. Unfortunately, that was the same day Chloe Bourgeois was joining public school, and compared to cookies, her offer of money to ten year-olds wasn’t all that effective. And Chloe was excellent at holding a grudge.

Of course, she ended up with friends: Alya, Nino, Adrien, and everyone in art class, but it was hard to go about her first couple years of school without anyone in her corner. Becoming Ladybug really gave her the boost of confidence she needed to break out of her shell and make new friends, and now she had a whole class full.

She stopped in the classroom to put her stuff away, pausing for a second to breathe. How was she out of shape? She’s Ladybug, for heavens’ sakes! Those three akumas really took it out of her. Luckily enough, she had gym class up next. (Can you hear the sarcasm?)

“Girl! Where have you been?” Alya smiled up at her from where she was stretching her hamstrings.

“Sorry Alya, slept in too much.” She fell into place beside her, choosing one of the more advanced stretches to accomplish instead. “Three akumas yesterday; couldn’t get much sleep.”

“You need to get over yourself, Mari. Ladybug and Chat Noir always win against the akumas, this fear of yours is ridiculous.” Alya glanced at her with an incredulous look, but when she saw her intense yoga pose, the look shifted and she yelled over her shoulder. “Adrien! Get over here! Marinette’s doing her physics-defying stuff again!”

Adrien joined them, laughing at Alya’s exaggerated despair. “It’s really not that hard. You just have to-” He fell into the position easily and began matching her movements. “There.”

“How on EARTH?” Alya shrieked and threw herself to the right, toppling into Nino, who was in a shaky warrior two. They ended up in a heap on the floor, Alya staring in horror at the two still upright and Nino staring bewildered at his girlfriend. “How are you two doing that?”

“Well, I don’t know about Marinette,” Adrien moved into an upward dog, “but father insisted that I be physically active in some way and my mother used to do yoga. So I picked it up.”

Nino leaned close to Alya’s ear. “I’m not sure whether to add this to the ‘reasons Gabriel sucks’ list or be happy he has this thing with his mom.”

“Both I guess?”

“What about you Marinette?” He moved into a handstand-like position. “Why do you know all this stuff?”

My superhero moonlighting requires me to be as stretchy as a rubber band, so my partner, who is also a furry, taught me yoga. “My first best friend and I learned tai chi, and this just felt like the next step.” Not a lie, just not why she chose yoga.

“Okay, you’re fine.” Alya pointed a finger between them both. “But next time you do something weird, I’m starting a cryptid blog about you.”

“You don’t have the guts.” Marinette leaned in and Adrien flipped down to join her. It felt familiar, like deja vu; not her crush, she killed that with fire once he started dating Kagami.

“Heey!” Nino opened his arms in front of them. “Let’s change the subject, what about that new student?”

“There’s a new student?” Marinette turned to the rest of the class, who were all stretching dutifully. No new faces whatsoever. “Where are they?”

“Not here, he went to the office over a scheduling conflict. Seems like a jerk.” Alya pulled an arm behind her head, glaring with derision in the direction of the office.

“Alya, don’t.” Adrien nudged her with a foot. “First impressions don’t mean anything, right Marinette?” He shot her a playful glance.

“Don’t remind me.”

“That one was a misunderstanding. Mister Ice Cold over there doesn’t even say a word, just nods and walks into the back of the class. At least Adrien did something and he asked for forgiveness afterwards. Frosty doesn’t even look at us.” With that final comment, Alya joined the rest of the class in dodgeball.

“Is she alright?” Adrien side-eyed her.

“Yeah, she just really hates people acting superior to her. Let’s go.” Marinette shrugged it off and joined her in picking teams.

Dodgeball was a mess; it always was. The entirety of the class had been akumatized at one point, and some of the strategic prowess remained. Marinette’s team always won, which everyone attributed to her agility, but it was really that Ladybug had more practice in strategy. The only way the teams could be considered even was if Adrien was against her.

She still won; she always won. When it was all over, each team, sweating and exhausted, gravitated to the center line to shake hands and congratulate one another on a game well played. Adrien met her in the middle with a weary smirk. His hair was disheveled, but there was a spark in his eyes that made him seem more familiar than he already was.

“I almost got you that time.” He gripped her hand tight.

“All that training with Kagami is really upping your game.” She quipped, shaking his hand. “Better luck next time.”

With that promise of another match, everyone vacated the gym to the locker rooms, where Alya continued to warn Marinette against the new student.

“Even Chloe doesn’t like him and he seems like the kind of rich boy that would be right up her alley.”

“Alya, I get it. You aren’t the new guy’s biggest fan.”

“And the feeling’s mutual too.” She griped.

“So just don’t talk to him; it works with Chloe. Why not this guy too?” She wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her to their desk.

“Fine, but I don’t have to like it.”

“You don’t have to like him either.” She pulled out her notebook and began writing down the date.

Before Alya could make another passive aggressive comment about the mystery new boy, Miss Bustier walked in, the usual skip in her step. “Class, I know I already introduced you to our new student but since some of us weren’t here for the first period,” Marinette ducked her head with a sheepish smile, “I’ve decided there’s nothing better than a redo. So, here’s Mister Culpa, introducing himself again.”

Culpa?

A boy with pale blond hair and paler skin strode into the room. He wore what could only be called business-casual, all monochrome. His eyes were a one-in-a-million breathtaking ice blue.

Culpa?

“Hello.” His eyes scanned the room emotionlessly. “As I previously said, my name is Felix Culpa and I am from-” He stopped when he reached her. “Nette?”

“Felix.” She breathed, barely even daring to say it louder, lest he disappear.

He was a blur, climbing the steps and reaching her in the time it took her to stand. There were no words when they hugged, other than the other’s name. She was on the tips of her toes, pressing her forehead to his collarbone. Felix got tall.

“I missed you.” He whispered, squeezing just a little tighter.

“I missed you too.” She laughed, pulling back to see his face. He was crying. She was crying.

“What in Ladybug’s name is happening?” Alya’s shout broke them from whatever pocket dimension they were inhabiting together. “You two know each other?”

“Alya, this is Felix.” She turned to look at her, hand still on Felix’s shoulder. “He was my best friend from birth to ten.”

“Was?” He bumped her hip with his. “Didn’t know I’ve been replaced, Netta.”

“I couldn’t contact you after I moved! I was ten and your mom never told us what her new number was.” She punched his elbow. “What are you doing here?”

“My family moved. I didn’t know you were in this area too; imagine my surprise when I see what the current events in Paris are and find out that there are superheroes and my best friend is now a borderline celebrity.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

“We have to catch up some time.” She grabbed his arm.

“Certainly, maybe not here and now, though.” He gestures to the class around them, avidly watching the exchange.

“Right.” She released his arm and rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. “Coffee and macarons later then? My place?”

“I would like nothing more.” He quirked a smile that would seem tiny to anyone else, but to Marinette was as bright as the sun. “Until then.” Felix squeezed her hand and moved to the back of the class with a little wave.

She returned it, a goofy smile definitely on her face as she sat back down.

“Well,” Miss Bustier coughed, “since Felix has been so thoroughly introduced to everyone else, I suppose I should start the lesson.” And she dove into a spiel about the first World War.

“Dang, girl. Is it just me, or do you have a date after class?” Alya whispered to her from behind her textbook.

“It’s not a date! We’re just catching up.”

“Sure.”

She spared a quick glance at Felix, who was nose-deep in his book, just like when they were kids. He had such sharp features, and upon reconsideration, his eyes looked even more beautiful than she remembered. Felix grew up just fine without her. Really fine, in fact.

It took Marinette a couple seconds to realize she was staring, and when she did, her head turned back to the front of the room so fast she swore she heard a snap.

This was... going to be complicated.

#felinette #ml felix #felix agreste #felix culpa #marinette dupain cheng #ml marinette #ml alya #alya cesaire #ml nino #nino lahiffe #ml adrien #adrien agreste

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chelleztjs18 · 3 years

Text

Lost in Assistance - Ch. 6

GIF: I do not own this GIF.

Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?

Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only)

All chapters

You are forced to wake up in a sudden by your alarm blaring. You squint your eyes, try to find your glasses or your phone to turn off that annoyance of the sounds of your alarm. You finally turned it off and put on your glasses then checked out the time. You forgot that you have to wake up earlier than you planned before Lizzie’s text yesterday. Once you see the time is 5 AM, you regretted that you stayed up late last night.

You groaned as you got out of the bed. Last night you decided to wake up at 5 AM just so you can give yourself enough time to get ready, let alone you have to try to beat the traffic to go to the office even though it’s Friday you just don’t want to take that risk, not today. Last but not least, you have to get the coffee that Lizzie specifically requested.

You try to get ready faster than usual. You picked semi casual attire for today with a low ponytail and flat shoes. You grabbed your purse, your laptop and every other thing you need for work today. You walk out then go to your mom’s room to check if your mom is awake.

“Ma, are you awake yet? I’m gonna go to work okay? I’ll see you when I get home. Love you.” You half whispered hoping your mom can hear you but not loud enough to wake her up just in case she is still sleeping.

“Okay, good luck on your first day my dear.” Your mom replies in a sleepy tone.

You left for work but had to drop by at Starbucks near the office to get Lizzie’s large black coffee with half and half and two pumps of hazelnut syrup so it will still be hot when she gets it. That’s how she likes it and it’s one of a few list of coffee beverages she likes besides her precious seasonal pumpkin spice latte.

You finally arrived at the office at 6 AM sharp. The main building is already open due to some offices having early operation hours. You confidently go up to the office thinking it is already open as well or at least opened for Lizzie who is meeting you there but to your surprise the door is still locked and all the lights are still off. Puzzled with what’s going on, you pull out your phone and try to contact Lizzie to figure out where she is.

You try to call her but no answer. You wait for a few minutes in front of the office, then you try to call her again, which leads to the same result, no answer. Hoping that you will get an answer if you try to reach her in a different way, you decided to text her.

"Good morning Ms. Olsen, I'm here at the office. Are you on your way here by any chance? Thanks." You texted anxiously yet irritated. Fifteen minutes went by and still no words whatsoever from her. You decided to go back to your car and wait there.

You hate waiting yet that’s the only thing you can do now. Luckily, you parked at one of the Vernon’s office reserved spots so it will be easy for you to spot Lizzie when she comes. You sighed with annoyance every time you checked your phone and found nothing from Lizzie. You watch the parking spots around you like a hawk to spot Lizzie but shortly you are betrayed by your body, your eyes slowly close and you fall asleep. All of a sudden you hear your phone ring, it’s Lizzie. You jolted to check the time to find it’s 8:05. “Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t!’ You cursed in your mind and answered the call.

”Hello. Ms. Olsen. I’m coming right up.” You explain right away while you gather your stuff to get going. “Where are you?! You are late. I have been waiting here for 5 minutes.” Lizzie asked, pretending she was upset about waiting. Making you come two hours early and letting you wait was her plan. Little did you know, Lizzie actually saw you sleeping in the car when she parked. Of course she won’t let this situation go to waste so she decided to just go up to the office to make it look like you are late.

You finally showed up with one hand holding your purse and your laptop, the other handing Lizzie her coffee. “Good morning. I’m so sorry. Here’s your coffee. I got here at-..” before you could finish your explanation she cuts you off. “Um, my coffee is not hot, Y/n. Why is it cold? I like hot coffee in the morning. You need to get me a new one on the way there. We gotta go now or we are gonna be late. Thanks to you.” She gave the coffee back to you and walked away.

Your jaw dropped. You are so flabbergasted and irritated at the same time with what just happened as you saw her walk away with no remorse whatsoever.

“Aren’t you coming?” What Lizzie said snap you back to reality and you proceed to follow her to leave.

Lizzie decided to sit at the front passenger side with you driving. You drive in silence, still upset that you have to go to Starbucks to get her another hot coffee. You ordered hers and your usual coffee. You got both of your orders, you put yours in the cup holder and you hand her hers. “Ice coffee huh in the morning? Grande Espresso frappuccino, light ice double blended with extra shot in a venti cup. Just because you like cold coffee in the morning, it doesn’t mean other people like it too, you know?” She commented sarcastically. “Ms. Olsen, I got there at 6 just like you wanted me to, I tried to call and text you but no answer. That’s why your coffee got cold. It has been sitting for two hours.” You broke your silence but are still trying to keep it cool.

“Oh yeah, I slept in, didn’t hear my alarm.” Lizzie answered nonchalantly.

“Are you kidd--” You said in your mind then you took a deep breath. Hearing how she answered you, it made you connect the dots and you know what she’s up to. You know it’s normal if she really slept in but this happened on the first day you work for her, coincidence much.

“I see.” You said it sarcastically and nodded slightly. “What? What do you see?” You got her attention. “Oh nothing. You did it on purpose didn’t you? You are trying to give me a hard time working.” You calmly confront her. “I told you I slept in. It’s up to you how you gonna take my answer.” Another nonchalant answer came out from her. You chuckle sarcastically then pull over and turn your head to look at her. She looks back at you confused.

“Look, Ms. Olsen. I don’t sugar coat things so please hear me out, I know you don’t like me because I got hired as the assistant you thought you don’t need and I don’t fancy you either. What you did this morning is completely childish and to me, you really give yourself a bad name such as a brat. I’m just here doing my job. As professional as you are and as stubborn as you are, no matter what game you are playing now, I won’t quit because I’m not a quitter. So why don’t you just let me do my job until the contract ends?” You raise one of your eyebrows and give her an intimidating smile then you start to drive again to the location.

Despite the fact that Lizzie actually got caught off guard with what you just did and with everything you said, she refused to give in. In fact it just provoked her more and started to ramble angrily “I told you I slept in! Just so you know, I have my own reason why I don't need a new assistant! You know nothing about me! So don't you dare call me a brat! Don't get too cocky. I’m not a quitter either. I’ll win.” She replied and just like that, they soon got into an argument and everything turned into one competition between you two girls who have the same level of unyielding obduracy. Nonetheless, both of you are consumed by your own ego and anger.

You scoffed. "Oh come on! We both know you did it on purpose! I'm not stupid! 2 plus 2 is 4! Why don't you want a new assistant anyway? It's not that bad!" You raised your tone a little.

"Why the hell do I have to tell you my reason?! It's a personal thing! You work for me, don't you remember that?! Being childish is way better than being cocky like you. Just because you are the best assistant that Mitchel has, doesn't mean you're better than anybody else! So if you are as professional as you said you are, why don't you just zip it and drive?!"

The driving is now filled with tension and awkward silence. You decide to turn on the music just to calm you down. Clair De Lune by Motez Remix plays. The tune is actually catchy enough to Lizzie’s ears, she never heard this song before so she secretly checked the title on y/n’s car screen. “I don’t like this, I want to listen to something else.” She lied just to push y/n’s button yet again. “My car, my choice of music.” Lizzie rolled her eyes to what you said.

Luckily the traffic wasn’t that bad, you both arrived at the location on time. Lizzie gets out of the car and slams the door as she is still upset with you.

The photoshoot session starts. Both of you only talk when it’s needed. Not a single eye contact happens between the two of you. After a few hours, it’s time for lunch. Lunch is already catered, you prepared a plate for her, place it on the table. You sit with the photographer and crews on another table near hers.

She sits and about to eat but was stopped by something she noticed on her plate. Something that she hates, onions.

“Umm, Y/n, I can’t eat this.” She pushed the plate away. “ And why is that?” curious why she said that, you go to take a look at her plate and notice what’s the problem. “Sorry, I didn’t notice there’s onions there.” You added.

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t mind eating it if there’s no onion in it. Since you are my assistant, I will let you do your job just like what you asked me to do earlier.” She said it sarcastically but in a low tone and gave you a smirk, knowing she just served you back your own words from the argument earlier.

You realized what she wants you to do, it won’t look good if the photographer and the crew see you argue with you since they didn’t hear what ridiculous “assistance” Lizzie just asked you to do for her so you just do what she asked you to half heartedly.

The rest of the session continues then you both go back to the office when it’s all done. The whole ride was awkward and silent from both of you with soft music playing in the background. Tension is in the air but that doesn’t stop both of you secretly exchanging glances to each other without you both knowing.

You both arrived at the office’s parking structure just to separate to go home and move on with your day.

Ch. 7

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word-scribbless · 3 years

Text

Don’t settle

@hopscotchandlemon had this amazing idea and trusted me with it! I’m super excited about it!

Request: My idea is that Gibbs' girlfriend's teenage daughter phones him one night because she's getting hassled by a group of boys and she can't get hold of her mum. Gibbs goes and sorts things out and he gives the girl a lift home. On the way back the daughter gets upset, wondering if she'll ever find someone special who cares for her like Gibbs cares for her mum.

Masterlist

——————-

Gibbs was working on his boat one night when he heard his phone ring. He was really hoping he didn’t get a case, his girlfriend’s daughter Alli was out with some friends and his girlfriend Y/N was working late at the office.

“Yeah Gibbs” he said gruffly with out looking At the little screen.

“G-Gibbs I mom won’t pick up! I- can-can you pick me up?”

“Alli where are you? Are you okay?” He asked dropping his tools and getting up.

“I I’m at the movies can you come get me please?”

“Of course Alli I’m on my way. Are you okay?”

“I I’m fine I- just get here please?”

“I’m on my way, stay on the phone with me until I get there yeah?” Gibbs suggested

“Okay, thank you gibbsy” Alli whispered.

Gibbs smiled at the nick name the girl coined for him the first year he dated her mother.

Y/N and Gibbs had been together for almost 6 years now. Alli was a very standoffish 9 year old when they first got together. She had never known her father and was very close with her momma. Gibbs impressed Y/N with how quickly he won Alli over, without even having to bribe her with candy. Gibbs had fallen for Alli almost as quickly as he had for her mother. He went from a lonely man who lost his happy family, to a man with a secon chance, and two great girls who he could share his first girls with, and make new memories.

Gibbs stayed on the phone talking to Alli about anything he could think of. They landed on her current favorite topics; painting, the boat they were working on, and ice hockey. He was glad to be able to cheer the girl up a bit, but that didn’t cool the fire in him that someone had hurt his little girl.

He pulled up to the movie theater to see Alli sitting on the curb alone, a large group of teenage boys and a few girls standing off to the side. He could clearly see that Alli was trying to get as far away from them as she could.

“Hey Alli-cat you ready?” Gibbs announced, making sure to shoot the onlooking teens a look as Alli got in the car.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked and Alli huffed

“you hate talking Gibbs” she retorted

“Not to my y/L/N girls I don’t.” He smiled.

“God how are you like this?!” Alli cried. Gibbs pulled over to a parking spot away from the theater.

“Like what Als.”

“Y-your so caring and you love my mom so much! You would never ever have asked a girl on a date and then showed up with all your friends and kissed another girl, in front of the one you asked out, to make them laugh” she sniffles. “I know you guys are older but-but the way you love Shannon and the way you love mom, I-I’m never g-gonna have that.” She cried and Gibbs tucked her into a hug.

“Sweetheart if I knew you wouldn’t stop me I’d go teach that boy a lesson.” He said and continued before Alli could tell him he better not. “Alli-cat, You are 15 years old. You have time to find someone who will treat you the way you deserve.”

“I just-I don’t want to have to go through the tuckers and the my dads and the your ex wives to get to the man who loves me the way you love mom. I shouldn’t have to! Mom tells me every day not to settle for anything less than my very own Jethro Gibbs but what if I don’t deserve that?”

“First of all Allison Y/L/N, you deserve that more than anything in the world. I can’t promise you won’t get hurt along the way, but you will find a man that loves you the way I love your mom. Most girls don’t have a mom like you do, that teaches them to be strong, and wait and fight for what they want. We are both very lucky to have her. It may not be easy Alli but trust me, there is a man, or person, out there who will love you the way you deserve.”

Alli looked at Gibbs slightly teary eyed and a little shocked.

“What?” He grunted.

“You just said so many words at one time!” She giggled.

Gibbs playfully rolled his eyes as he started the truck again.

“You Y/L/N girls have a way of getting me to do that. First night I met your mom I talked more than I did the whole month before.”

Alli giggled at that too.

“Mom says you swept her off her feet that night.” Alli smiled.

“Truth is Alli, all I did was care and let her in a little. Which was not easy for me at all, but when it’s right it’s right Als. It takes work and courage, but there is someone who’ll sweep you off your feel just by askin’ you to dance too.” Gibbs smiled at the memory.

“You and mom kinda ruined me for relationships, I have very high expectations.” She huffed but Gibbs could see her smile.

“You’re welcome.” He joked back.

“So this kids name is tucker?” Gibbs asked after Alli had cranked the radio and he could tell she was feeling more herself. “Don’t you even think about it dad!” Alli said and froze a little. It wasn’t the first time she said it but she’d never said it to him, usually when talking to Y/N about him. Gibbs smiled.

“Like that title” he said and she smiled back.

“Yeah?”

“Alli you can call me anything you want, with in reason. But title or not, you’re my daughter and I love you.”

“Love you too dad.” Alli smiled and went back to singing.

When they got home Y/N was just pulling up in the drive and checking her phone. Gibbs saw her listen to what must have been Alli’s voice mail and panic. He got to her as she opened her car door .

“Hey you” he said and kissed her softly. “Don’t worry about the voicemails I got her.”

“Hi mom!” Alli said giving her a hug. “I’m gonna go get something to eat” she sang walking past them.

“How do you do that?” Y/N asked.

“Do what?” Gibbs asked with a smirk.

“She called me in tears not 20 minutes Go and now she’s all bouncy and Alli again.

“Threaten to beat up the jerk who asked her out then brought another girl and all his friends” Gibbs said as he led her up to the house.

“I’ll kill him” y/n said

“Don’t worry she’s alright, told me something you said though” he smiled.

“Oh yeah? What’s that”

“That she shouldn’t settle for anyone less than her Jethro Gibbs.” He smirked and she turned to him.

“Yeah that’s not a Secret. J I waited almost 40 years to meet a man who loves me the way you do, and I’d do it all again if that meant I ended up with you.” Y/N said and cupped his cheek.

Gibbs smiled and kissed her “glad I took a chance on beautiful, sassy, 37 year old you and that shy scrappy lil 9 year old with pig tails.”

Y/N smiled and leaned up to kiss him again. “Me too j” she smiled but looked a little confused.

“What?” He asked

“That was sweet but very wordy for you.”

“You Y/L/N girls, you’re the reason I talk so much, but your always questioning it.”

“You love us” y/N said

“Sure do” Gibbs agreed as he kissed her head and led her into the house.

“Dad did you get more of that cereal?” Alli called from the kitchen as they came through the door.

“Yeah in the right cabinet” Gibbs called back with a proud smile and turned to a grinning Y/N who made a cheering motion and let out a “FINALLY”

“Huh?” Gibbs questioned.

“She’s been referring to you as dad when you’re not around since she was 11, told me she was waiting for the right time to try it out with you! I’m so proud” Y/N sniffled.

Gibbs’ half smile grew even wider. “That okay with you? Me being her dad?” He asked.

“Jethro Gibbs in my mind you’ve been her dad since the first day you picked her up from school sick, made her star chicken noodle soup and sang her to sleep when she was in the fourth grade. A title is just that, a name. One you deserve so very much, but you are and always will be that girls dad. We don’t need a legal document to tell us that, just like I don’t need one to tell me we’ll love each other for the rest of our lives. You’re stuck with us J.”

Gibbs smiles and pulls y/n into a kiss before saying “wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Tag list:

@mac99martin @kittenlittle24 @viper-official @ilovemark1951 @theofficialzivadavid @averyhotchner @andreasworlsboring101 @diesinspanishbcimhispanic

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snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales · 3 years

Text

Blue Moon - Part 1

A/N: See masterlist for prompts used. (And the list of amazing people who have helped me with this.)

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Warnings: See Masterlist

Word count: 2,746

Xxx

“So what’s it like living with a Hale?” Stiles asked, turning away from your locker after you shut it. Both of you fell into step with Scott as you made your way to your next class.

You must have grimaced or made some face with a slight slant of your eyebrows only a Stilinski could read, because Stiles let out a snort. “That bad?”

You shrugged, sighing. “I mean, it’s not like I expected it to be a walk in the park, it is Derek Hale after all.” Scott chuckled with a gentle shake of his head, making you smile before you continued. “But I didn’t expect it to be this…. easy….. either.”

“Easy?” Scott questioned, making the same face you must have initially as Stiles let out another snort of laughter.

“Yeah, I mean, the first few days were awkward. If we weren’t training we weren’t doing anything. The man is silent, had no TV, or any of that-”

“Wait, ‘had’?” Stiles held out his hand, effectively cutting off your sentence and your steps, your shoes screeching on the floor at the sudden stop.

“Yes, had. He now has a TV, streaming services- yes, Stiles, services as in plural, if you keep your eyebrows that high they may stick that way, and it’s not the best look for you…”

“So at least there is something to fill the silence at least.” Scott resumed walking, you followed a few steps behind, Stiles lagging, jaw still dropped in shock.

“Well, yeah,” you agreed with Scott, and this time you felt your eyebrows making the face.

“But….?” Scott’s prodding was gentle, but his face held a smirk.

“But somewhere along the way we went from off handed comments during a news broadcast, or some show we were watching, to actually pausing it to have some discussion, or referencing some situation later and asking if the other had had something similar happen, or just opening up about random experiences and stuff. It’s…”

“Weird?” This time Stiles prodded, earning a glare and gentle whack on the arm from Scott.

“Well, maybe it’s because you’re…. new.” Scott opted for a more discrete word for ‘werewolf’ in the crowded hallways. “He may feel like opening up more because of the pack mentality and all.”

“No, it’s not because she’s…. new.” Stiles raised one eyebrow on the word as he addressed Scott, earning a sigh and eye roll from the young Beta. “The man is a brooding wall of leather and growls.” You chuckled at the description, making Stiles grin. “I think we finally found our miracle cure for our Sourwolf!”

“Woah, woah, woah, hold up.” You held up your hands as if to physically stop their words. “What?”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. We know you two like each other. It’s so obvious.” Stiles immediately closed his mouth, his lips a tight line, eyes wide and eyebrows in his hairline in his signature “I was not supposed to say that” face.

“What?” you deadpanned to your friend.

The bell rang, and Scott, wide eyed and smiling too broadly, gave Stiles a shove on the shoulder in the opposite direction of your next class as Stiles muttered, “Oh, look. The bell.” They both began to walk quickly the opposite way.

“Guys!” you yelled. “This is not over! But I am not responsible for you guys missing another class, what does that make, like fifteen already this semester?”

Your two friends stilled and turned on their heels, ushering past you quickly, avoiding your glare, Stiles looking at Scott and muttering, “See, Scott? I told you our class with Miss Blake was this way.”

“Ugh,” you mumbled under your breath. The sour expression stayed on your face even after you sat at your desk in the back of the class.

Chuckling, Stiles chanced a glance your way from beside you, hoping to change the subject from his ultimate fail in the hallway. “You still don’t like her?”

“I still don’t like her.” You overlapped his last few words, matching his gentle nod with one of your own as you stared straight ahead at the teacher’s still vacant desk.

“What is it about her you don’t like?”

“I just have a really bad feeling whenever I see her. Something just isn’t right.”

Scott chuckled, opening his book to the proper page. “You’re just mad that she gives you a little bit of a harder time.”

“You mean she gives me ‘more attention’?” you asked, your words rising to a ridiculous octave as they repeated Jennifer’s words she had used when she assigned you some extra credit to help raise your grade so you could stay on the lacrosse team. Your friends chuckled at your words. “I’m sorry, not everyone can be amazing at everything, being a wer-” you stopped yourself, clearing your throat before continuing- “new-” you looked at Scott pointedly, earning you a glare and Stiles’ laughter on your other side- “doesn’t allow for a whole lot of extra studying time.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. I know you feel that way now, but it will pass,” Scott said with a smile as Miss Blake walked in, setting things on her desk, and he chuckled as you glared at her. “This is all ephemeral.”

You looked at Stiles, your face blank, voice a deadpan. “You ever buy him a word of the day subscription thing again, and I will rip your throat out.” You flickered your yellow eyes at him discreetly. “With my teeth.”

“With your teeth,” Stiles mumbled, overlapping your words, both of you nodding in agreement again. “I asked what it’s like living with a Hale, and now I got my answer.” He looked at you, shaking his head mockingly. “You’re becoming one of them. It’s contagious. We’ll call it ‘Sourwolf Syndrome’.”

Xxx

Due to your parents’ professions taking them all over the place constantly, like Allison, you were actually a year older than your friends, having to repeat a year a few grades back. But you wouldn’t change it for anything, because that’s how you met your best friends.

It helped that your parents were away on business most of the time, so no one questioned your staying at Derek’s loft for so long. You stopped by every few days to get the mail and check on the plants around the house, packing some new clothes if needed, Derek sitting outside in his car the first few times, but lately he had taken to coming in and helping you do the few things you had to do.

You told yourself it was just because of the increased threat that he wanted to be closer to his newest Beta. He didn’t have too many of those these days, you thought bitterly, smirking to yourself. You stared blankly as you rinsed out your coffee cup in the sink, and a wave of sadness washed over you as you thought of Erica, her absence still fresh and raw. The two of you had never really been close; just acquaintances at school, then pack members briefly, before she was gone.

Boyd had really withdrawn himself after that, and you didn’t blame him. You knew he probably felt how you did times ten. When Cora had been here briefly she mentioned losing a pack member was like losing a limb, and she hadn’t been wrong.

Then Derek had kicked both Cora and Isaac out of the loft, claiming it wasn’t safe with the Alpha Pack around. Isaac was staying with Scott, but you didn’t know where Cora had disappeared to. Peter was a wild card, so you didn’t even try to factor him in, and Scott outright refused to be a member of Derek’s pack. He was an Alpha with Beta eyes, and an enigma for another time.

The point was, Derek was running low in the Beta department lately.

The only reason Derek had you staying at the loft and followed you around the house when you had to go was because you were the newest, or so he said. Deep down you knew he just didn’t want to be responsible if something happened to you. He wanted to control the situation as much as possible which, you guessed, you were kind of glad, being new to this whole werewolf thing, and admittedly not wanting to stay home alone again, human or werewolf.

At least at the loft, even in the times before Derek brought home the TV and stuff, the silence had been comfortable. You’d never admit it to anyone, but just being in the presence of another living, breathing being, even one as brooding and somewhat annoying as Derek Hale, was nice.

And you sure as hell weren’t going to think about how he had helped you with your homework sometimes, especially with that English extra credit. He had a side he didn’t share often, and you were glad you got to see it. It was like a rare spotting of a mythological creature.

You smiled to yourself, watching the water in the cup filling clear now, the mug long clean, and you let your feelings wash away down the drain with the water as you turned it off.

Setting the mug in the sink, you took a deep breath, letting the feelings whirling around you fully roll off your back, rolling your shoulders back as they did.

Stepping into the doorway to the living room you saw him delicately watering some houseplant your mom babied. The first few times he had just poured water at its base, and you had to stop him, showing him how it had to be done, otherwise he’d over water it. And since then, though he had said initially that it was stupid under his breath, he took meticulous care to check if it even needed watering, and then watered it properly, like you showed him, even bringing books home to the loft about how to care for the various types of plants your mom had around the house. You found it endearing.

Smiling softly, you gently shook your head. One second you were bitter towards him, the next finding little things that made him amazing. “I’m going to go grab some clothes, my stuff got torn to hell last week when we dealt with what’s his face,” you said offhandedly, starting up the stairs. So many baddies came through this town, you got them all confused.

Derek chuckled. “Okay. You know you can always borrow some of my clothes if you need to.”

You stopped midstep on the staircase, each foot on a different step, and your grip on the bannister tightened, your knuckles turning white.

This.

This is why you had such conflicting emotions about this man. Wolf. Wolfman.

“Are you sure?” You kept your voice even, smiling softly.

He shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, makes more sense then driving all the way over here.” His voice tried to be neutral, but it was evident he was trying to cover up something he had let slip before really thinking about it.

“Thanks. I’ll remember that next time.” You nodded once to each other before you took two steps calmly and then practically ran up the rest of them to your room.

Holding a hand to your chest, taking deep breaths to try and stabilize your heartbeat, you slumped against the door after you closed it, sighing.

You tried not to over analyze what he said, but failed.

You knew he probably was making some underhanded comment about your abilities, “coming all the way over here”, really he wanted to say, “you suck at being a werewolf, you’re always getting hurt and your clothes destroyed in the process”.

“You too, wolfman. You too,” you mumbled under your breath as you angrily rifled through one of your drawers, grabbing a few things.

You chuckled a dark laugh. “But I’m an Alpha, Y/N. I’ll heal faster.” You mocked his deep tone, your search in your drawer turning into an aimless activity, the contents totally mixed up now.

He had never been around whenever you had gotten in a hit or takedown on the baddies you guys had encountered so far in your short time in this world. For some reasons you ended up on opposite sides of the battle fields, and he never said it directly, but you knew he probably thought you sucked. How else does one end up with torn shirts from claw marks and blood being covered by your jacket?

Everyone else had called you a badass, but Derek had yet to compliment or even comment on your fighting ability. But maybe, since he trained you, that spoke more to his ability and not yours, you thought with a smirk. Satisfied with the thought, you grabbed a few clothes out of the drawer before snapping it shut.

After a few steps toward the door, you slowed to a stop, absently staring at the clothes in your hand as your thoughts cleared a little from your earlier anger.

If it was a reflection on how he thought he was, that was kind of sad. Did he really think so lowly of himself and his abilities?

You had only been in this world a short time now, but even you had to admit he was a good Alpha. A good wolfm- werewolf. A good man. He was a great person to have at your back in a fight and in mundane things like math, which was also a fight, but that was a thought for another day. He was a good friend to have, period.

Shaking your head and chuckling gently at yourself, you wondered why your thoughts were everywhere. Glancing at your calendar on the wall, you saw the full moon was coming up soon and rolled your eyes. Of course.

This would pass. This was ephemeral. You groaned softly as you made your way back down the stairs. Stiles was going to pay.

Derek met your eyes when you made it to the last step, hopping the last few inches to the first floor. He set down the watering can softly.

“Do I really sound like that?” His lips twitched upward slightly.

Screwing up your face in confusion it took you a second to realize he had heard your mutterings as you disorganized the contents of your drawer upstairs. Realization crossed your face before your palm slapped to your forehead, the groan passing your lips before you could stop it.

Derek laughed, and you looked at him apologetically, to which he motioned with his hand as if waving it away and smiled at the floor where his gaze was focused. “Don’t worry about it. I just always thought my voice was deeper than that.”

He chuckled even more as you swatted his arm, laughing gently yourself. He grabbed your wrist playfully before you could withdraw your hand, and you found yourself pulled closer to him, almost toe to toe and having to crane your neck to look up and meet his eyes that looked down at you with some emotion you couldn’t decipher.

That comfortable silence hung around you two like a blanket… Until his phone rang.

As he fished it out of his pocket, you softly cleared your throat and took a small step back, feeling Derek’s gaze on you the whole time.

“Hello?” His voice was gruff and annoyed, and he was still staring at you. It almost seemed like he was upset at whoever was on the other end for interrupting his moment with you.

But that thought quickly evaporated.

“Jennifer!” He said it with a broad smile on his face, his voice a total about face from his greeting, and his eyes moving from you to the wall behind you.

It couldn’t be who you thought. There was no way. That would be too much of a coincidence.

“No, I’m not busy,” he said, turning to the door.

Grabbing his arm to stop him, he turned to look at you, eyebrows raised in question and, if you weren’t mistaken, slight annoyance.

“What?” he mouthed.

“Who is that?” you whispered.

“A friend,” he hissed.

“Who is it?” you hissed back at him.

“Your English teacher, Jennifer Blake.” He shrugged out of your grip and out your front door, motioning you to the car.

You seethed as you turned off the lights, grabbing your bag of clothes, and locking the door after you.

Reason number five hundred and sixty two to hate Miss Jennifer Blake.

Xxx

Tags: @mayahart02, @palaiasaurus64, @shydinosaurcandy, @lucyqueenofthestars, @c-breanne1999, @l4life, @ethereallysimple, @teenwolffan-with-nolife, @bellabadacadabra What’s This?

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Danger First

Chapter 3

@pocketramblr (also please let me know if you would like me to stop tagging you on these, I don't want to be annoying. :))

"WAIT!" shouted Nana abruptly, as Izuku was talking to his (weirdo) teacher. "I know who that is! Quick, get ready to turn everything off!"

"Turn what off?" asked En. "We live in a formless mental void. We don't even have electricity."

"The quirk! That's Eraserhead!"

"Oh, yeah," said Yoichi, while everyone else (sans Second and Third) scrambled to grab onto the quirk. "I remember Eight meeting him, now! So, he's a teacher, huh?"

"How do all of you forget the one person who might be capable of one-shotting All for One?" demanded Nana.

"Doesn't his quirk not work on mutations?"

"Stop daydreaming and get over here, Yoichi!"

The quirkspace began to glow faintly, ominously red, and the ghosts pulled hard on the quirk, holding it temporarily out of Izuku's reach.

Then, the red glow abated and they dropped it back into place.

"Well, that was exhausting," said Banjo. "So, we'll have to be constantly ready for that, huh?"

"As long as he's around, yeah," said Nana.

"Why did we just do that, anyway?" asked En.

"So we can continue to masquerade as a normal, non-haunted quirk?"

"We could have just let him think he didn't have a quirk, or that the anxiety-"

"Super anxiety."

"-isn't part of it."

Yoichi gasped, as if scandalized. "You'd want us to lie to Izuku?"

"Okay, seriously, what is up with you and Nine?" asked En.

Despite not having a body, Yoichi began to visibly sweat. "Nothing, nothing at all. I just... think he's neat?"

"If you're going to lie to us, can you not do it with archaeomemes?" asked Nana.

"No, no, actually, I can get behind this," said En. "Would you say Izuku has... vibes?"

Yoichi nodded solemnly.

"Young Midoriya!"

Izuku shrieked and jumped back from the sudden sound as All Might suddenly emerged from an otherwise innocuous bush.

Both of them froze, staring at each other.

"Are you..." said All Might, hesitantly, sounding much more like he did in his small form than usual, "alright?"

"I... think so?"

"That's good, then." All Might coughed slightly into his fist. "I was wondering if you had a few minutes."

"Of- of course!" said Izuku, immediately.

"Then allow me to lead the way!"

All Might led him through a door labeled 'staff only' and immediately deflated. "All the staff know about my condition," explained Mr. Yagi.

Izuku nodded. Then a thought occurred to him. "Mr. Yagi?"

"Yes, my boy?"

"Why, um, why don't you teach, um, as Mr. Yagi? Instead of as All Might? Wouldn't it save your time?"

Mr. Yagi stopped and scratched his head. "I hadn't really thought about it before," he admitted. "But part of the reason I took this job, other than wanting to help train the next generation of heroes, of course, is that I want to get people used to the idea that I am going to retire." He tugged on one of his bangs. "Also, ah, I'm not sure if my qualifications to teach are quite up to par without my reputation."

"I'm sure it would be fine! You're the best, after all!"

Mr. Yagi chuckled. "I'm glad you think so," he said. Then he reached behind him and opened a door. "In any case: my office."

"Wow," said Izuku, quietly, stepping in. "All Might's office..." Who knew when he'd get another opportunity like this again? He kept his eyes wide to drink in the details.

The rather sparse details. The office was rather bare. Which made sense, seeing as All Might was a brand-new teacher. It was sort of... disappointing, as thrilling as it was.

Mr. Yagi sat down behind the desk and gestured for Izuku to take one of the other chairs. It had a lot of cushioning. A lot a lot. Izuku sank down into the fluff as Mr. Yagi fiddled with a drawer on his desk. He got the drawer open, and pulled out a notebook. A notebook of the same brand Izuku liked to use, actually.

"Since your experiences with One for All are so different from mine, I thought it might be a good idea to do some research into past holders and take a leaf out of your notebook, as it were." He passed the notebook over to Izuku, who took it with shaking hands and a slightly open mouth.

"I'll treasure it," he declared, voice wobbling.

"Not so much that you don't use it, I hope," said Mr. Yagi. "As it is, it's only an overview. The earlier holders, especially, don't have many records associated with them. Consider it a starting point. I haven't had much time to work on it."

"I can't believe you found the time to write this at all," said Izuku, flipping through the pages. The information was sparse, but each holder had a basic profile, all the way back to the fourth. "I mean, between being a hero, training me, and preparing to be a teacher, I'm stunned nothing fell by the wayside!"

Mr. Yagi proceeded to turn a very interesting color.

"Uh, nothing fell by the wayside, right?"

"Why don't you take a few minutes to skim through. If anything jumps out at you right away, we can talk about it. And then I'll let you go get changed and go home, and we can discuss more later, after you've had more time with it."

"Okay!" said Izuku. He'd start with just the basic profiles. Name, date of birth, date of death, quirk... wait, those ages... "They all died young," he said, softly.

"Hero work is dangerous," said Mr. Yagi, hand going to his side.

"There's something else, isn't there?"

"Not something you need to worry about. I took care of it, years ago." The hand holding his side spasmed slightly.

"... Six years ago?" asked Izuku, aware he was pushing his luck. But this sounded both important and relevant.

There was a long pause. "Yes," said All Might, finally. "A villain with a longevity quirk. He... had a history with the first user."

Izuku got the feeling that was an understatement. It also seemed unlikely that the only application of the villain's quirk was longevity, given what he'd done to All Might. But the subject was clearly making All Might uncomfortable, so he dropped it in favor of burying his nose in the notebook again.

(Social fumbles aside, this was the most secure Izuku had felt for... a while.)

"The sixth user had a smoke quirk?"

"Yes, it seems so. Although it doesn't seem to have been actual smoke, but a biological compound."

"I wonder if that has anything to do with all the steam you release when you deflate. Actually..." he flipped back through the quirk. "I wonder if you're using Float, too, subconsciously, when you jump."

"What?"

"I- I mean," said Izuku, "I noticed, when, um, when I grabbed your ankle and also in videos of you- Your hang time is kind of messed up? You're in the air for longer than you should be, but it isn't, like, consistent? Plus, you can change direction mid-air, which I thought was because you were shooting out blasts of air pressure with your quirk, but with me on your ankle, you definitely didn't do that. There was- there was a forum I was on where some people thought your quirk tapped into magnetic fields, somehow, but that doesn't make any sense, because you'd expect a lot more electronic interference and that similar locations would produce similar results, given the Earth's magnetic field, but they don't. But subconscious, low-level use of a telekinesis-based flying quirk would explain everything. If we take into account what you said about my anxiety after the entrance exam, then that's minor expressions of three out of four of the quirks listed here, not counting the base stockpile and enhancement quirk. Do you think the unknown quirks of the second and third users might have partially manifested for you as well? Have you experienced anything else that's atypical for a strength enhancement quirk?"

Mr. Yagi stared at Izuku.

Oh, no, he'd gone too far.

"Nothing immediately comes to mind, my boy," he said, faintly. "But... magnets? Really?"

"I told you it didn't make any sense."

Mr. Yagi rubbed his chin. "There might be something, but... it's too unclear to say either way. I'll keep an eye out. It's just... a lot to take in. I thought One for All was done surprising me."

"When has it surprised you before?"

"Oh, under the influence of certain mental quirks, you can wind up hallucinating the previous users."

"Hallucinating?"

"Yes. But being under the influence of a mental quirk is always the larger issue, so..."

"Mr. Yagi," said Izuku. "That's really the kind of thing you should let people know about up front."

"I- is it?"

The ghosts all stared at Nana.

"Hey, don't blame this on me! None of us explained that kind of stuff before passing One for All on."

"In our defense," said En, half raising a hand, "we were usually dying when we passed it on."

"More importantly," said Hikage, "do you think Ninth is right about the quirks?"

"It would make sense," mused Yoichi. "Although then we'd have to wonder why Blackwhip didn't manifest similarly."

"Is it too much for me to get someone to use my quirk? My extremely awesome quirk, that has no downsides?"

"It is powered almost exclusively by rage."

"No downsides."

"You-"

"No. Downsides."

Aizawa passed him an envelope labeled 'quirk counseling' along with the standard schedule and orientation packet he was handing to everyone else. It didn't look like any of his class mates had noticed, though, for which Izuku was grateful. He didn't want to be known as a weirdo who didn't know what his own quirk was.

He heavily suspected he was tapping into Danger Sense, somehow, but he didn't know how, and the fourth user of One for All had lived so long ago there weren't any records of him. Not easily and publicly available. Everything Mr. Yagi had written in his notebook (that Izuku had probably stayed up way too late reading... and texting Mr. Yagi about it... and comparing it to his notes... and texting Mr. Yagi about that... and reviewing old All Might compilations and theory threads... and having Mr. Yagi threaten to call his mom if he didn't go to sleep...) about the fourth user had been retrieved from the journals Mr. Yagi's mentor had passed down, according to one of the source notes in the margin.

(Mr. Yagi had really neat, small handwriting, which Izuku wouldn't have ever expected from his large, dramatic signatures as All Might, and his notes were meticulous and carefully cited. If Izuku didn't know better, he would have thought it belonged to a secretary.)

But despite Izuku's suspicions, he didn't actually know. He didn't know it's range, what it defined as danger, whether or not it 'ranked' dangers, how to distinguish it from normal anxiety, or- Well. Anything, really. And he would really like to.

He opened the envelope quietly. Inside was a handwritten note instructing him to pick one of three schedules for quirk counseling and return it to Aizawa by the end of the day. The other pages were printed, with times and possible locations. Options for both before and after the school day.

Izuku felt his eyes tearing up. This was easily the nicest thing a teacher had ever done for him... Although he was nervous about being alone with Aizawa. Some of his other teachers, when they asked him to stay after class it was... not good.

Nothing bad happened, not like in movies or TV shows or the awareness videos the school had shown sometimes. The teachers didn't hurt him, really, didn't do anything to him, other than talk or yell, mostly, but it still wasn't good.

Maybe he could ask Mr. Yagi or Recovery Girl to sit in... But he already felt bad, taking up so much of their time.

He picked one of the after school schedules. He was already staying late on the other days to work with Mr. Yagi, and if something did go wrong, he wanted to have the night to recover before he had to face Aizawa again in class.

He put it to the side, so he'd remember to give it to Aizawa before he left, then looked over the class schedule. Homeroom, Math, Hero Art History, History, and English in the morning. At least this morning. The history classes alternated with something called Heroics-Applied Science and Hero Law and Ethics. Afternoons, meanwhile, were entirely occupied by Hero Basic Training.

And every class would be taught by a pro hero. He wondered if it would be rude to ask for their autographs...

Shouta grunted as Hizashi flopped down onto the couch next to him on the couch in the staff breakroom. "What a morning! I just love seeing all those bright little faces at the beginning of the year. Anyone have a favorite first year yet?"

Shouta kicked Hizashi through his sleeping bag. Sadly, this had no effect on the man.

"I think mine might be the little green guy. He's the only one who was actually paying attention, and you know how rare that is, when everyone is anticipating their first heroics lesson. The rest of us just pale in comparison."

Shouta attempted to kick Hizashi again, this time for an entirely different reason. Midoriya was already All Might's favorite (probably)- he did not need more pull with the staff.

"I know who my least favorite is," said Kan. "Kid's certainly dedicated and competitive, but I wouldn't be surprised if he threatened his middle school teachers into giving him those glowing reviews. His personality needs a lot of work. How did you get Nezu to saddle me with Bakugo, anyway, Eraser?"

"I had nothing to do with it."

"Don't give me that, I was going to have Monoma. At least he's a team player."

"You're being illogical," said Shouta, zipping his sleeping bag closed over his face.

"How about you, Nemuri?" asked Hizashi, cutting off Vlad King vs Eraserhead round five hundred.

"It's hard to choose! They're all so cute and eager! Full of the passion of youth! I think they're all my favorite."

"You always say that..."

The door opened and closed.

"All Might! What about you? Any favorites yet?"

Yagi coughed. "I've only had the one class of third years so far. Don't you think that's rather... premature?"

What an incredible nonanswer.

"How did that first class of yours go, anyway? They didn't sour you to the whole idea of teaching, did they?"

"Not at all! The students were wonderful. The third years are very advanced, aren't they? For some of them, I wouldn't be shocked to see that skill level on an active sidekick."

"What can I say? We start them off right," crowed Hizashi.

"They did seem a little surprised by the scenario, however."

"So was I, t'be honest," said Snipe, who was in charge of the third years.

"Ah, was it no good...?"

"It was fine. Lesson plan was a bit rough around the edges, but you and Nezu'll be goin' over that later. But... quirk traffickin' doesn't quite seem like your thing."

"Ah, well, set-pieces," he said, using the slightly derisive underground slang for large-scale spotlight hero battles, "may be what I'm known for, but before my injury, the majority of my battles and investigations weren't publicized."

"Shield laws?" asked Nemuri.

"Generally, yes, but some of the investigations were tied to others, so we were using the organized crime secrecy laws to keep those under wraps. Simply put, my popularity isn't the only reason I keep the number one spot despite Endeavor having more completed cases than me on paper."

Shouta had known there was more to All Might than 'punchy, over-the-top, eyestrain-causing, bombastic muscle guy,' but part of his stupid, illogical brain was annoyed at Yagi for pummeling that image into imaginary dust, anyway. It seemed like the man's only two flaws were horrible interpersonal skills when not using his public persona, and his vast suite of health issues, the latter of which all heroes who operated long enough picked up.

Oh, and a possible inclination towards bribery.

Made it hard to dislike him, which Shouta wanted to do, because he was loud, flashy, and gave him headaches, literal and metaphorical. He ignored the fact that Hizashi was the same way, and had forcibly become Shouta's best friend. Clearly, there was no connection here.

"By the way, why is young Aizawa completely zipped in like that?"

"Nap time," said Hizashi, solemnly.

"Sir?" said Iida, raising his hand.

"Yes, young man?" boomed All Might.

"There are nineteen of us. How are we handling the odd person out?"

"Excellent question! In other exercises, we may handle it differently, but for today, one of you will be working alone! Occasionally, a hero may find themselves isolated when they originally expected help. However, for better balance, I have also arranged it so the odd hero out will be taking part in the last battle, so you'll have more time to strategize!"

But the other team would also have more time to strategize, Izuku noted. He really hoped it wouldn't be him... not that he wanted to force it on any if his classmates! He just didn't want yet another handicap on the first day of training.

All Might walked around with the box of ballots, pausing for each student to take one. He reached Izuku and held the box out to him with a wink. Izuku smiled back, reached in, and grabbed one.

A chill ran up his back and he froze, fingers wrapped tightly around the little ball. Something told him this was definitely the cursed, single-person ballot. Could he let it go? Would it be considered cheating if he picked a new one?

But All Might was already walking away. Every part of his body tense, Izuku turned his hand over and forced his fingers apart.

The tenth character of the Latin alphabet. For the tenth, last, team.

He watched as everyone else started to pair up, and All Might looked at him apologetically.

Izuku approximated a smile. Plus ultra, right?

#bnha #boku no hero academia #fic #fanfic #danger first au #danger first

143 notes · View notes

bqstqnbruin · 3 years

Text

Aerosmith

Alright, y'all: here's that fic that I'm low key scared no one is going to read that has taken me a few months to write, a Trent x single mom!reader fic

It's a long one, with the Bruin's feral little fighty boy from St. Louis, around 13.3k words. The songs listed as the headers of each section are all by Aerosmith, each part partially inspired by the song (hence the name of the fic)

Shoutout to @toplinetommy for helping me with this the entire time and being my beta AND to @chara-hugs for letting me bounce ideas off of you and talking through what I was thinking of. Love you lots 💛

I hope people like this

___________

Just Push Play

Considering how much was happening around you at the bar your friends had dragged you to, the only thing that could keep your attention was your phone. It was the only thing, at this point, that you would allow to keep your attention. You had no desire to be there. Part of you wanted your phone to start buzzing, anything that would give you an excuse for you to leave, but the other part of you knew that something bad had to happen in order for you to leave. Every second that you stayed was costing you more money and less time being where you wanted to be.

“Hey, Y/N, put the phone away. This is your first night out in, like, years,” Molly tells you.

“Four years. Maybe five?” you guess.

“Six years, exactly,” she wrongly says, earning a disappointed head shake from you, a small ‘no’ escaping your lips that goes ignored as she takes your hand that’s holding the phone. “Can we please just enjoy tonight and have some fun? He’s going to be fine.”

You take in a deep breath, almost sure she was right about that. You hadn’t had a night to yourself in years, and Molly was also almost right that this was your first one in over four years. Actually, given the timeline, it was probably more like five. “But what if something happens?” you ask, the natural worry and constant fear you felt taking over your ability to just enjoy the night.

“If something, anything happens, you’ll be able to feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, and I will go home with you to take care of it,” she reassures you, playing around with the settings on your phone. She hands it back to you, pulling you up from the table you had yet to move from in the first place. “He’s fine. He always is. Why don’t you request a song?”

“Because you keep telling me you hate my music.”

“Well, that’s because you have the same music taste as your sixty-something-year-old father when you’re a twenty-something-year-old woman.”

“You don’t even know how old I am? We’re the same age.” Molly rolls her eyes at you, dragging you up to the line of people to request songs, a book sitting there with the songs you could request. “They’re not going to have anything I like,” you tell her as the line behind you gets longer.

“Don’t you listen to that one guy?” she starts.

“That could mean anything. Have I told you lately that you are the most unhelpful person I know?” you snap at her, trying to find anything in your Spotify that you could request as the line got shorter and shorter in front of you. “What about this song?” you ask, your finger hovering over someone from one of your Daily Mixes. Molly looks over your shoulder at your phone, shaking her head at your song choice, and every song choice that you suggested. “I’m just going back to the table, you’re being impossible.”

Before she can protest, you turn around and head back to your table, sitting off to the side away from the rest of your friends, your eyes glued to your phone. At this point, you were praying that you would get a message from Rachel asking you to come home, telling you that something was wrong. Even something as simple as she had to leave unexpectedly so you could, too. Anything so that you could leave sooner rather than later.

“Sorry, but you really couldn’t find a song in that book?” you hear a guy's voice, tearing you away from the screen. He sits down next to you, not too close that it was uncomfortable but just close enough that you could smell his cologne, covering the smell of beer that had been lingering in the air around you. “There was some Aerosmith in there, I have a feeling that’s the closest to something you’d enjoy,” he says, smiling at you.

He must have been in the group that was in line behind you, hearing your conversation with Molly. Regardless, you smile back at him, something about his own being so infectious that you couldn’t help but mirror his expression. “Well, you’re right, but it depends on what Aerosmith song,” you respond, a hint of flirting in your voice.

“Is there a bad one?”

“No, but there are some superior ones,” you tell him, his eyebrow cocked as a sign to get you to explain. “Sweet Emotion is great but not as good as their cover of Come Together. Dream On and I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing are easily, in my opinion, their best songs.”

“Is that up for debate?”

“Oh, you think their most popular songs aren’t their best?”

“I think the one that’s about to play is one of their best,” the guy says, both of you pausing as there’s a lull in the music, the chatter and screaming of the bar’s drunk patrons overtaking everything.

“Just Push Play?” you ask, a smile on your face. It wasn’t one of their most well-known songs, but you still had to admit it was an underrated one.

The boy shrugs, a smirk on his face. “I might have requested it so you’ll have a reason to dance with me,” he flirts, getting up and extending his hand for you to join him.

You hesitate, unsure if you should get up with this mystery man standing in front of you. There was something about him that you couldn’t figure out. He looked young, probably younger than you but looks can be deceiving, nevertheless telling you that there was some sort of innocence or naivety to him, but the obviously fit physique under his clothing telling you that he could and would break your heart in a moment if he had to, the time leading up to that would be like nothing you had experienced before. You didn’t have time or the energy to spend on something you knew would lead to heartbreak, but you felt like you wanted to, like you had to. “I’m not sure I can dance with someone whose name I don’t even know.”

“I’m Trent,” he says, taking your hand and guiding you away from the table. You introduce yourself as his hands snake their way around your waist, holding you close enough that you could feel his heart starting to race against your own chest as your hands met the skin at the back of his neck, your fingers grazing along the collar of the back of his shirt, the two of you not moving at all in sync with the faster beat of the song. Not that you cared. There was something about this boy you were talking to talk to over the music that made you completely disregard the movement around you, forgetting about your phone and what was waiting for you at home for the first time in nearly five years.

You danced for what felt like forever, for what you wanted to last forever, every song passing you by as he listed out song after song that he recognized, most of them country as he claimed he had a country playlist that went on for seven hours, all of them involving him trying to sing bits and pieces of the lyrics off-key, every time pulling a laugh from you.

“I don’t know what I like more,” he starts, resting his forehead against yours as the space between the two of you disappeared, “the music they’re playing or your laugh.”

You roll your eyes, a smile on your face as the heat rushes to your cheeks. “Those lines usually don’t work on me.”

“But?” he asks, his lips ghosting yours.

“But from you, they do,” you tell him, planting your lips on his before he has the chance to say anything else. You didn’t know what it was about Trent; you were never the one to make the first move, you barely interacted with guys at this point since your life was permanently hectic. But Trent was something else. You don’t know what Trent was, you just knew he was different.

His hands were on your back, finding their way to your waist, his grip tightening when you feel someone tap your shoulder. You pull away, a pout on Trent’s face as you turn around to see Molly, waving your phone in your face. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Oh, shoot!” you squeal, taking your phone. “I’m sorry, I have to get home.”

A confused look covers Trent’s face. “Is your Uber going to turn into a pumpkin if you aren’t home, Cinderella?”

You laugh at his joke, going back to your table to grab your stuff. “I’m so sorry,” you repeat, “But I really have to get home.”

“Let me walk you.”

You stop in your tracks as you were rushing out the door. You never brought a guy anywhere near your apartment, knowing that most of them would want to go in, most of them would want to sleep with you if you invited them, most of them would be gone by morning when they found out why you didn’t want them there in the first place. You don’t know why you knew Trent would be different. “No, you don’t have to,” you tell him, instead, even though you wish you could bring him home with you.

Before he can answer, someone calls out his name, pulling the two of you away from each other’s attention. “Trent, we’re leaving.”

Trent looks between you and his friend, the group of guys aggregating around him as they wait for his answer.

“You don’t have to,” you repeat, trying to get out the door because you had to.

“Jack, give me a minute,” Trent calls to his friends, “I want to,” he tells you, taking your arm, turning you towards him. The look in his eyes was sincere, begging you to let him walk you home. “Please?”

You let out a sigh, caving in even though you knew you shouldn’t. “Fine, yeah. Let’s go,” you tell him, taking his hand and leading him out of the bar, his friends left without an answer as they watched the two of you walk away.

Come Together

“I’ve had a really great night. Sorry about my friends, though” Trent apologizes to you again. He explained that he had gone out with them after their game that night, supposed to be spending their off-day tomorrow together, but Trent leaving with you had seemingly changed those plans. As the two of you walked and talked on the way back, his hand never left yours, from the time you left the bar to now standing outside your door. He pulls you in for another kiss, the worries of what was on the other side of the door melting away. You wanted to invite him in, but you weren’t sure if he would even want to once he found out.

Your door opens, Rachel stepping out. “Sorry, it’s almost curfew.”

“Yeah, sure, go ahead,” you tell her, Trent confused by the girl sneaking out of your apartment. “That was Rachel. She’s my babysitter.”

“Babysitter?”

You could feel your face twisting involuntarily at his question. You knew you should have told him before you got home, it would have been easier leaving him at the bar than watching him walk away from you outside your door. Why did you even let him walk you home in the first place? Because he’s hot and you’re dumb, that’s why. “I have a four-year-old son. If you wanted to leave, I would understand. Most guys do when I tell them about Ben,” you spit out, not making eye contact with him. You weren’t ashamed of your son, you just knew people your age got weirded out and panicked at the thought of the responsibility that came with having a child.

He tilts your head up, his eyes flicking between your own and your lips, a lazy smile on his face. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Do you want to stay?”

“If you’ll have me,” he says, kissing you yet again. You bring him inside, showing him Ben’s room first. The two of you stand in the doorway, his arms wrapped around your waist as you lean against the door frame. You feel him kiss the back of your head as you watch Ben wriggle in his sheets before settling down, you taking Trent’s hand and leading him down to your room. You tell him that you don’t want to do anything because of Ben being so close, Trent giving you a sweet smile, kissing you before settling next to you in bed. You had no idea why, but it all felt so domestic, so right that he was there with you in that moment.

“Can I ask you something?” his voice pierces the silence that had fallen between you.

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t you mention Ben before?”

You swallow hard. You weren’t ashamed of having Ben, something you found yourself repeating in your mind every time you told a guy about your son. He was the best part of your life. Everything you did was for him. “We’re young. Being a single mom at our age has such a stigma around it. When guys find out, they normally bolt. I didn’t want you to until the last possible second.” You turn to him, still able to make out his features in the dark, the pout that was forming on his face visible without anything lighting him up.

“You could have told me before we got here,” he says, pain in his voice as he reaches for your face, the pad of his thumb gently grazing over your cheek. “I don’t care if you have a kid. I mean, I do, Ben is part of who you are. But, I would have understood. I understand. You shouldn’t be afraid of telling someone about that part of you. What I know about you so far is pretty amazing, I can only imagine what Ben brings to the table.”

“That seems weirdly out of character for what I know about you,” you tease him, pulling a smile from him.

“Well, maybe, but even a stopped clock is right twice a day, right?”

You kiss him, a feeling of relief washing over you at his words. The two of you spend the rest of the night telling each other about yourselves, keeping quiet for Ben, despite the amount of laughter you let you. You couldn’t remember the last time a guy made you feel so happy, falling asleep with a smile on your face, his arms wrapped around your waist as if that’s where they belonged.

You wake up the next morning, the sun shining into your room, but no Trent. You get out of bed, probably figuring that he had left in the middle of the night, trying to spare your feelings about you having a son. You understood. What guy really wants to get into a relationship with a single mom at this age?

You go to check on Ben, opening the door to his bedroom to find that he wasn’t in his room. You started to panic at the sight of his empty bed, unmade with his blankets in disarray. If Trent was gone, and Ben was gone, where could they be? He wouldn’t kidnap your son, would he? He was a professional athlete, that’s not something he would do, right? Your panic starts to recede when you hear laughter coming from the kitchen.

Trent is standing at the stove, spatula in hand with eggs cooking on the stove, a piece of bread held up to his face with holes bitten out of it where his eyes are, making Ben shriek with laughter. “Sorry. I heard him get up and I didn’t want to wake you, so I started making breakfast. Is that ok?”

You can’t help but smile, going over to Ben. “How’s he doing so far?”

“Mommy, look! French toast!” Ben says, pointing excitedly to the cut-up pieces of bread on his plate.

“French toast?” you repeat, your eyes wide to play along with his excitement. “Give me a bite,” you tell him, opening your mouth as he picks up a piece with his fingers, nearly missing your mouth. You hear Trent laugh, you not containing your own.

You go over to Trent, leaning into him as the two of you watch Ben eat the food Trent made. You feel him kiss the top of your head, his fingers dancing up and down along your arm. You look at his hand, a bandaid on the back of his hand. “What happened to you here?”

“Oh, oops,” he says, looking at his hand. “Got a little cut, but don’t worry, it’s not bad. Dr. Ben here fixed me right up,” he tells you, going over to Ben and ruffling his hair.

Trent hands you a plate of french toast and eggs, pouring you a cup of coffee, kissing you in front of Ben, who either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. No guy had ever stayed the night, let alone stayed and made breakfast for the two of you the next morning.

“So, what were you two talking about before I joined?” you ask, taking another bite of the French Toast. You already knew it was good from what Ben gave you, but you were still devouring it.

“Bears, boots, and battles of galaxias,” Ben lets out, his full mouth spraying crumbs everywhere.

“I’ve been trying to make sense of that all morning. I have no idea what he means. Why does that sound familiar?” Trent asks, sitting down next to you, his hand on your thigh under the table, sending a chill through your entire body as his fingers lazily traced an unknown pattern on your skin.

You take a sip of the coffee he had handed you, setting down your cup and putting your hand on top of his under the table. “He saw that one part of the Office, the identity theft cold opening, where Jim says, ‘Bears, beets, Battlestar Galactica?’ That’s how he remembered it,” you explain, Trent looking over to your son who was fixated on the food in front of him.

“Benny,” Trent calls him, your entire body going numb hearing him call him the same nickname you used for your son, “do you like bears?”

“Bears are the coolest!” he squeals. Everything he saw with a bear on it, he would start begging you to buy him, your heart breaking from the look on his face when you had to tell him no, we don’t need the kitchen towel just because it has a bear on it.

“Can you do your best bear impression for Mom and I?” You felt your heart skip at the sound of Trent calling referring to you as just ‘Mom’ instead of ‘your mom,’ like he was already part of the family. You didn’t even hear Ben growling, his best attempt at being the ‘scary’ Baby Bear that he was just laughing along with Trent.

“Hey, buddy, what if I called you Benny Bear from now on? Do you like that?” Trent asks, Ben nodding excitedly at his nickname.

“You’re nice,” Ben says to Trent while he clears his plate, Ben running off to go play.

You look at Trent, not able to help how you were beaming at him getting along so well with your son. It was like he belonged there with you, and with Ben, making his presence that much better. “That means he likes you.”

“Not trying to pry,” Trent starts, standing beside you at the sink while you wash the dishes, “But how often does he like the guys you bring home?”

You bite your bottom lip, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “I almost never bring guys home. And when I do, he generally doesn’t talk to them.”

“So he likes me,” he starts, getting closer to you as you nod your head. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you away from the sink. “How about you?”

“That depends,” you flirt, stretching to turn the sink off before draping your arm on his shoulders, twirling his hair through your fingers at the nape of his neck, “do you like me?”

He lets out a small laugh, pulling you in for a kiss. “I do.”

“I like you, too. Help me finish cleaning up and then we’ll go watch Ben, ok?”

The two of you wash dishes in silence, weirdly domestic and comfortable considering you knew this boy all of twelve hours. “Can I ask you something?” Trent breaks the silence, just as he did the night before.

“Sure.”

“Where’s Ben’s dad?” You take in a deep breath, knowing that this would have come up eventually. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he continues, a wash of panic over his face at the thought of asking something too personal too soon.

You shake your head, smiling at him to try to calm him down. “No, no, that’s fine. Um, we were together when we were in college, but we broke up. I started feeling like shit so I went to the doctor and she told me, ‘Congrats! You’re two months pregnant!’”

“Does he know about Ben?” Trent asks quietly.

“Yeah. Yeah, he does. I told him when I found out because I knew Ben was his. I told him that I was going to keep the baby and since we weren’t together anymore, he had the choice of either being present and helping out or if he didn’t want the responsibility, then that was fine, too.”

He didn’t know what about the way you were talking was making him feel this way. A lump in his throat was forming looking at your eyes start to shine with the threat of tears while you refused to make eye contact with him. You rarely talked about Ben’s father, making the decision a long time ago that he wasn’t worth your time thinking about since he didn’t want much to do with his own son. “And he didn’t?”

“He sends a present to Ben on his birthdays and Christmas, but other than that nothing really. I’m not even sure if Ben’s made the connection between the presents and his father yet. Like I said, though, I gave him the choice.”

“Do you regret anything?”

“I could never regret Ben or anything with him. I almost regret giving his father the choice, though. Being a parent isn’t easy, even if you have someone to take up half the work, but it’s even harder when it’s just you by yourself, you know? And I’ve gotten help, but it would be different if Ben had his dad as a constant in his life. Ben’s only seen him a few times, anyway. He calls him Andy instead of dad, and it’s just,” you stop, trying to find the word, “heartbreaking seems too severe, seeing him not acknowledge his dad as his dad, but what can you do?”

Trent didn’t know what to say. He was practically still a child himself when you really look at him. He couldn’t imagine having his own at this point in his life, let alone raising one on his own. “I’m sorry,” is all he can get out, trying not to cry even though he could hear Ben’s laughter ringing from the other room, sending a weird sense of joy through him at the same time.

“No, it’s fine. I would rather do this alone than do this with someone who didn’t want Ben to begin with. You can’t be a parent if you aren’t all in.”

He had no idea why, but he already felt so connected to Ben. There was no reason why, but he did. “I’m in.”

You turn back to him, shocked, confused, not even sure if you heard what he said properly. “What?”

“I’m in with you. With Ben. If you’ll let me. I want to see you again, keep seeing you. And that includes Ben. He already likes me, after all.” Trent was used to making snap decisions, on the ice, off the ice, wherever. He knew this was one, but this one felt like his best one.

“You don’t have to, you have your own life with hockey and everything,” you try to insist, cut off by Trent’s lips connecting with yours.

“I want to. Let’s go play with Ben.”

Angel

“Are you sure this is safe?” you ask him for what was probably the millionth time, getting out of his car in front of the rink.

He runs around to get Ben out of his car seat, you grabbing the stuff he had stashed in the trunk. “Yes, I promise it is. The guys bring their kids all the time and they’re way younger than Ben.” He had invited you and Ben to the family skate the team was having, you reluctant to go since Ben had never been skating before. Naturally, you were worried he would get hurt, either by falling down or being curious about the skate and somehow cutting himself, something you were sure he would do if given the chance.

You two had been together for about a month, Ben falling head over heels for Trent, jumping up and down whenever he saw him on TV. Much to your dismay, Ben loved it when Trent was fighting, begging you to let him play hockey so he could fight just like Trent. You loved taking videos of his excitement despite that fear of him skating and fighting like Trent, sending them to him to see during the game, Trent always making sure to FaceTime you the next afternoon when you got home from work if you two couldn’t meet up so that he could talk to Ben. He was acting like the dad Ben never had.

And that was terrifying to you. The thought of you and Trent breaking up and him suddenly leaving Ben’s life was the reason why you never got close with a guy before. You didn’t want Ben to go through that. You didn’t want to go through that.

But there you were, sitting rinkside at the Garden as you tried to tie up the skates that Trent got for Ben, his feet swinging back and forth in excitement no matter how much you tried to get him to stop for a moment.

“Are you excited, Benny Bear?” Trent asks, picking him up and walking out to the ice.

“Yeah!” he says, squirming around and clearly ready to go.

You weren’t sure if you were more nervous about Ben being on the ice for the first time, Trent already showing him how to skate, or you formally meeting all his teammates for the first time, that night at the bar not really counting. The three of you step onto the ice, Ben in between you two, practically swinging in the air as you both held his hands while you skate.

“You’re nervous?” Trent asks, reading the expression on your face.

“They look like they didn’t know about Ben.” You saw the looks you were getting from the guys' families as you and Trent were skating around with Ben between you. You knew they were looks of confusion, but you couldn't help but think that they were the same looks when you went out with Ben in general, the societal disapproval of being a young mother, no ring on that finger to show that this was planned with another parent on the other side. People were judgemental; it was in their nature, but you were hoping Trent’s teammates were accepting like Trent had been.

“Um, I guess I didn’t tell them? I didn’t think I needed to,” he says, looking down at your son. Ben was beaming, not paying attention to what you two were talking about, not that he would probably understand it if he was. Trent didn’t think it would be a big deal to have your son around. The guys knew he was seeing you, but was it really that big a deal that you have Ben? He looks over at you, the scared look that was on your face worrying him. “We can just tell him he’s your nephew or your little brother?” he whispers so Ben doesn’t hear.

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. You don’t seem to want them to know he’s your son?”

You stop skating, pulling Trent over to the side while holding onto Ben’s hand as he begs to pull away and take a lap on his own, something you weren’t going to let him do. “I told you I’m not ashamed of Ben,” you hiss at him.

“I’m not saying that you are. I’m just saying if you’re scared of what people would think we could just tell them something else.”

You look at him for a moment, trying to properly process his words. “Am I scared of what people think, or are you?”

He steps back, careful not to fall on whoever's kid was zooming past him at that moment, Ben begging to go skate with him. “Hey, Zach,” he calls Patrice’s son over. “If he takes Ben is that ok?”

You knew you shouldn’t say yes, but you didn’t need Ben hearing this conversation, no matter how oblivious he might have been to begin with. “If you trust him, fine.”

“Zach,” Trent starts, crouching down to their level, his hands on Ben’s shoulders so he can’t skate away before he’s done, “Can you take care of my guy Ben here? Make sure he doesn’t fall? Go skate to your dad.” Zach and Ben practically rush off with each other to Zach’s dad, eager to skate around and surprisingly good for their age. “What do you mean I’m scared?”

“Who’s the one suggesting that we don’t tell your teammates that Ben is my son? We’ve been out together when people ask if he’s my brother, my nephew, if I’m his nanny, and every single time you’ve seen me correct them. I told you I’m not ashamed of Ben. And to come here and have everyone giving us looks because they’re trying to figure out who he is to you makes it seem like you are. You couldn’t even tell the guys you claim are like your family about Ben. He’s not old enough for that hurt, but I am.”

He looks down at the ice, shuffling back and forth on his skates. “I’m sorry.”

You move closer to him, tempted to reach out and hold him. He looked just as hurt as you felt, part of you glad that he was actually showing he was sympathetic instead of just saying it. “Are you ashamed of Ben?”

His head snaps to you, a look of disbelief on his face. He starts shaking his head, the curls on his head that were loose enough going wild with his movement. “I’m crazy about that kid. I know why you aren’t ashamed of him because I don’t think I could ever be.” Trent turns around to find Ben on the ice, skating around with the other kids, some of the guys playing a small game with them, Ben with his own little stick. He watches Ben score on whoever was playing goalie, Ben shrieking with joy. Trent couldn’t help but smile, turning to you. “He means more to me than I thought someone else's child could.”

“Then why didn’t you tell them about Ben?” you ask him.

He shrugs, sticking out his bottom lip. “Because I’m dumb.”

You can’t help but laugh, hooking your fingers in his belt loops to pull him close to you. “Well, I do call you a stupid muppet,” you joke, earning a groan from him, “Hey, I say it with affection and you did say I could call you that.”

He cups your face and kisses you, momentarily forgetting his teammates and their families around you. “We could go tell them now?” he suggests, his forehead pressed against yours.

“Do you want to?”

Trent starts skating over to the rest of the guys, Ben giggling and playing with the rest of the kids. The two of you start talking to his teammates, introducing yourself to Jack and Jeremy, keeping your eye on Ben while he plays as you wait for Trent to finally say something about him.

“Trent! Trent!” Ben’s voice tears you two away from the conversation. “I’m you!” he yells, using the stick to try to shoot the puck, instead missing the puck and falling down on the ice. He was trying to process what just happened, hopefully not meaning to do what he did.

You look at Trent’s face, his teammates laughing while his face turned red. Ben shoots back up and starts skating again, Trent beaming at him. “That was cold,” he says to you, a smile on his face anyway.

“You know he didn’t mean it,” you tell him, squeezing his bicep before skating over to your son. You lift him up off the ice, thankful that he was still small enough to do that as you kiss his cheek and skate around with just him for a bit.

Trent couldn’t take his eyes off you, his teammates doing everything they could to try to peel his attention away from you. He watched you interact with Ben, the same light in your eyes when he looked at your son.

“Dude?” Jack finally succeeds in bringing Trent back down to Earth, “is that her brother?”

Trent shakes his head, turning back to you. “Nope, that’s her son.”

“Son? What are you thinking?” Jack asked. He knew what he meant. Trent was young. You were young. Having a kid was something real adults did, not whatever definition of adult he fell under.

Trent shrugs, watching you and Ben laugh and smile as you skated around, talking with some of the guys' girlfriends as they coo over Ben. “I’ve been better since I started seeing her.”

“You were fine before you started seeing her,” one of them mumbles.

He rolls his eyes, turning back to them. “Come on. I was fine but I wasn’t great. All I did was punch a few guys and get a couple of secondary assists. Even Butch said something about my play last game. Everything in my life is better with Y/N in it. And Ben.”

He didn’t hear what the guys were saying, and honestly, he didn’t care either. He loved your son, probably not as much as you did, but he felt like he was getting there. He wanted to get there.

Because he loved you.

Dream On

“Where are you?” Molly's voice comes through your phone, panicked and irritated. “I thought you were coming in today?”

“What are you talking about? Today’s my day off.” You were at home, sitting on the couch with the tv playing in the background while Ben played with his toys in front of you. It was one of the rare days that you could spend from the time you woke up until you went to sleep with your son, and you had no real intention of changing those plans, which is what it sounded like Molly was going to ask you to do.

“Well, you know that funding we secured for that new project?”

“Yeah?” you say, Ben coming up to you, trying to show you something. “Hold on, Benny. What’s going on, Mol?”

“They’re getting cold feet.”

“You’re joking.”

“No, we need you here. You and DeAndre were the ones who got them in the first place, and he’s already here. Please?”

You take in a deep breath, trying to figure out if anyone is free to watch Ben. You couldn’t bring him in and have him running around the office while you were trying to convince a major investor to give you the money promised. “I have to find a babysitter but I’ll be there as soon as I can,” you sigh, wracking your brain as to who would be free. Rachel couldn’t typically do weekends, but maybe she could if you promised to pay her extra? But then there was the issue of: did you have the money to pay her extra?

You start scrolling through your contacts, trying to figure out if anyone in there would be able to watch your son, running into your room to get changed to look at least a little presentable.

Trent’s name pops up, calling you with what you hoped would be somewhat perfect timing. “Hey, babe, what’s up?” you answer, your phone on your bed as you try to find something to wear.

“What am I looking at?”

“I’m changing for work and my phone is on my bed, so the ceiling.”

“I thought it was your day off?” he asks as you throw what seemed to be the only clean work shirt that you could find. You knew you were forgetting to do something today, now you realized it was laundry.

“Molly called saying that I need to go in and now I have to find someone to watch Ben or else I’m going to have to bring him in with me, which doesn’t seem like a good idea. And most of my friends are from work or have their own lives and can’t watch him, Rachel can’t do weekends, but I guess I could ask her if she has any friends who could watch him last minute.”

“Y/N.”

“But then I have to pay them and since it’s so last minute I would need to give them more money, right?”

“Y/N.”

“I guess I could, but I think I would also have to pay for meals, and then I have no idea what time I’m going to get home, and whenever that is I’m going to have to do laundry, and-”

“Hey. Earth to Y/N. I can watch him,” Trent finally cuts you off long enough to get a word in.

You were hesitant; Trent had never been left alone with Ben, and probably never left alone with a four-year-old ever by your assumptions. “No, no, I can’t ask you to do that,” you tell him, picking up your phone to see him.

“I’m serious! You just said you need a babysitter, I was going to ask if I could come over and see you before the road trip, anyway.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, biting your lip. Did you trust Trent enough to let him watch and take care of Ben? If you could trust Rachel, a girl who still had a curfew and couldn’t even drive her friends in the same car as her, why couldn’t you trust your boyfriend?

“Of course!” he says, clearly getting up and walking around what you think was his apartment. “I’m leaving right now, I’ll be there in ten.”

He hangs up and leaves you to finish getting ready, hurrying through trying to make yourself look presentable and finding the stuff that you needed. You couldn’t find your work bag, or your computer, mentally cursing yourself for the one time you didn’t leave it in your closet like you normally did.

“Hey, Benny? Have you seen Mommy’s computer and bag?” you go into your living room to where you left Ben. He shakes his head, his overall attention not leaving whichever toy he was fixated on. “Great,” you mutter under your breath, trying to find it. “Ben, how about you and I play a game?” you ask him, getting down in front of him. “If you can help me find my blue bag and my computer, someone really special will come over tonight!”

Ben gets up and starts looking for you, hoping that you can find it before Trent actually gets to your place. “Mommy! I found it!” Ben comes running to you, your bag nearly as big as him as he struggles to carry it to you.

You take it from him, kissing his head as he goes running off, a knock at your door just in time. Opening it, you see Trent on the other side, a bag in his hand. Kissing him hello, you tell him, “I owe you big time.”

“We can discuss payment when you get home. And I have some ideas as to how you could pay me,” he says, bringing you in for a kiss.

“Trent!” Ben runs over, interrupting.

Trent practically launches himself off you, picking up Ben and hugging him while your son’s laughter and happiness fill your home. “Benny Bear!” He gives Ben the bag, telling him to open it.

“A bear!” Ben jumps up and down with the small stuffed animal that Trent had gotten him.

“What does a bear say?” Trent asks, both of them going, “grrrrr,” with their hands curled like claws, their faces scrunched. You felt yourself melting at the sight of Trent getting along so well with Ben, your son running around in circles with his new toy that he would probably say is his favorite since it came from Trent.

“Did you buy him a Benny Bear?” you gush, bringing him in for a hug.

“I saw it when I was on the road and had to get it for the little guy.”

“You love him,” you tell him, not needing to ask since you already knew what his answer would be if you did.

“Of course. But you have to get to work,” he tells you, pushing you off him.

“I’ll pay you for whatever you get for dinner, order what you want, within reason for him.”

“You don’t have to pay me back, and I’ll make sure to get him lots of candy,” he jokes, earning a look from you. “I’m joking,” he says, throwing his hands up in defense. “Go, go to work. I’ve got this.”

“If you need anything call me, or even one of the guys who have kids. If you trust them, I’ll trust them.” You kiss him again, yell goodbye to your son and remind him to behave for Trent. You were nervous about leaving Ben alone with him, but if you wanted to be serious about this guy, you had to do it at some point, right?

You close the door, leaving Ben and Trent alone on the other side as you try to think about how you and DeAndre can now keep your investors from pulling money, practically running down the hall so that you can get to your car.

Trent turns around, Ben already sitting back down on the floor and playing away with his toys. He had no idea how to watch a four-year-old. He takes in a deep breath, sitting on the ground with Ben, his back leaning up against your couch. “Alright, Benny, what do you want to do?”

Ben hands Trent a toy, starting to ramble on about whatever magical world he’s conjured up that Trent was no part of. He had no idea what he was doing, trying to follow along with your son’s imagination as best as he could.

Trent didn’t know how you did it. Ben was a ball of energy all the time, and at home seemed to be no exception. Trent was chasing him around as they played ‘Bear catcher,’ which Trent wasn’t really sure the rules of in the first place, just following around your four-year-old through your apartment while he sprinted, jumped, hid, crawled, and did every other action that Trent felt too old for.

Ben finally sits down and focuses on the tv when he hears some song coming from it, the first moments that Trent can sit down as well, hoisting himself onto the cushions. His phone starts buzzing, a call from Jack coming in. “Hey, what’s up?”

“What are you doing right now?” Jack’s voice comes through the phone as Ben gets up again, starting to run around with the bear Trent bought him.

“I’m watching Ben.”

“Since when are you a babysitter?” Jack asks, judgment dripping in his voice.

“Since Y/N needed a babysitter and I was free.” Ben climbs up on the couch and starts jumping, Trent suddenly feeling a wash of panic over him at the thought of Ben falling and getting hurt. Jack starts saying something that Trent knew he didn’t want to hear anyway, giving him the perfect excuse to cut him off. “Hey, Ben, you’ve gotta be careful. Sorry, dude, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

He hangs up before Jack can get another word in. “Hey, Benny. Mom said we could order dinner,” he says, pulling Ben into his lap in hopes that he would calm down long enough so he could talk to him. Ben squirms as his energy never seems to stop, Trent doing everything he can to try to figure this out. “What sounds good to you?”

“Ice cream!”

Trent lets out a small laugh, Ben’s face glowing at the thought of ice cream for dinner. “No, bud, you can’t have ice cream for dinner.”

“Ice cream! Ice cream!” Ben wriggles free of Trent’s grasp, repeating the phrase over and over again as he sets off running around again.

Trent was way in over his head. He didn’t think that Ben would have this much energy for this long. Whenever he was with you, it was either during the day and Ben stayed relatively calm, or when you were playing, he had you to help counteract and keep Ben from being the seemingly crazy child that he was right now. He could call you and ask what to do, but from how you sounded on the phone and when he came over, you were way too stressed out to also have to worry about Ben at that moment. He could call one of his teammates who actually knew what they were doing when it came to child care, but Jack’s words from the family skate practically haunted him. He wasn’t in too over his head when he was with you, or when he was with you and Ben. But just Ben? Not going too well.

“Benny Bear, come here,” Trent says, reaching out to catch Ben as he runs by the couch. “How about, we get something else to eat, and if you eat all of it, I’ll get you ice cream?” he asks, making a mental note to at least text you to ask if it was ok that he have it. Ben nods his head since Trent technically said he could have ice cream. “What do you want?”

“Mac and cheese!”

“What about,” he starts, pulling out his phone. “Some chicken fingers?” Something told him cheese and ice cream wasn’t going to end well for Ben’s stomach that night, and by default, it wasn’t going to end well for Trent, either.

Ben nods, going back off and running around the room. He had to tire out at some point, right?

“Hello?” you answer your phone, Trent calling you to make sure his dinner plans were ok.

“Hey, Ben said he wanted ice cream, but I told him only if he eats his dinner, and I had to make sure it was alright with you, first.”

“What did you settle on?”

“Chicken fingers?”

He hears someone calling your name in the background, you yelling something back to them in panic. “Yeah, there might be some in the freezer? If not, just tell him that the ice cream fairy is coming later and he can have it tomorrow, or something. There are also some carrots in the fridge, too. Tell him he has to eat some of those if he wants ice cream, even if I don’t have any. Have some with him, pretend they’re spaceships, and play with them before you eat them, that normally distracts him long enough.”

“That works?”

“Trent, he’s four. Most things like that do.” He hears more yelling from your end, Ben coming zooming by him yet again, nearly tripping over Trent’s feet. “I’ve gotta run. Love you, bye.”

You hang up before Trent can react. You hadn’t told each other that you loved the other yet. He knew he loved you, but he didn’t know if you loved him back. But you just said it, and he didn’t even know if you meant it since you said it in such a hurried context. He hoped you meant it. He can’t even focus while he’s ordering dinner, not really sure what he was having other than the carrots you mentioned were in the fridge.

Trent just sits there while he waits for the food to arrive, getting the carrots out and trying to see if there was anything close to ice cream, or even yogurt that he could throw in the freezer for Ben while he continues to zoom around your apartment. “Hey, Benny, look!” he says, holding up the carrots. “Spaceships!”

This felt like he was talking to a dog, which seemed weird, but at this rate, Ben was tiring him out so fast he didn’t know what to do. He and Ben start playing with the carrots, watching your son eat what was in front of him when the doorbell rang for food.

Ben keeps playing with food, something Trent thought you probably wouldn’t like too much, but at this point, he didn’t know if he should care. He had no idea how you did this. There was no way Ben had this much energy every night, right? He had never seen you exhausted, so Ben couldn’t be a ball of energy all the time. At least, that’s what he convinced himself as he sat there eating his food.

Eventually, Ben goes to sleep, Trent helping get him ready for bed and tucking him in. You had texted that you weren’t sure when you were going to be home, but Trent was free to stay the night instead of driving back home regardless of what time you would be back, something he gladly took you up on.

Trent finally settles down after finding a pair of sweats he left at your place a while ago, collapsing onto the couch in complete exhaustion from Ben’s running.

“Trent?” he hears Ben’s small voice coming from down the hall, pulling Trent away from the trance he fell in trying to stay awake until you got home. “Trent!”

He runs down the hall at the sound of the increased panic in your son’s voice, not sure what he was supposed to expect when he practically burst through his bedroom door. “Buddy, what’s wrong?”

Ben was breathing heavily when Trent got close to his bed, clutching his sheets to his chest, “I had a bad dream.”

Trent sits down on Ben’s bed, a sad smile on his face. “Ah, Benny, it’s all over now. You’re safe.” Ben nods his head, a terrified look still on his face. He pulls Ben in for a hug, kissing the top of his head, Ben’s small arms wrapping around Trent’s own. “How about I read you a story to help you fall asleep?”

Ben nods, jumping out of bed and getting a book for Trent. “Goodnight Lab?” Trent reads, a confused look on his face.

“Mommy likes science,” Ben offers as his explanation.

“Of course she does,” he says, opening the book, putting his arm around your son as Ben cuddles up against Trent’s chest. “In the great green lab, there was a laser, and a lab notebook, and a picture of Einstein with a stern look,” he starts, already seeing Ben’s eyes getting heavy.

You finally get back home, seeing the light on, no one in the living room. Wandering through your apartment, you hear Trent’s voice coming from Ben’s room, finding him there with your son, him asleep against Trent’s chest as he whispers the end of the book to him, “Goodnight liquid nitrogen, goodnight compressed air, goodnight scientists everywhere.”

You stand in the doorway, Trent not noticing you as he slips himself from Ben, your son curling up with his blankets. Trent bends down to kiss him on the head, tiptoeing out of the room.

“Hi,” you whisper, closing Ben’s door behind you, giving Trent a kiss hello. “What was that?”

“He had a nightmare, so I read him a story to calm him down and get him back to sleep,” he explains.

“That’s so sweet of you,” you tell him, leading him down the hall to your room.

He shrugs, closing the door behind you. “My mom used to do it for me and my siblings. I always told myself that I would do it for my son or daughter.” You don’t know what to say, just pulling him in for a kiss, down on your bed. He pulls away, a smile on his face, “Oh, and I love you too,” he tells you, hoping that Ben didn’t wake up and hear what you two were about to do next.

Sweet Emotion

“Happy birthday, Benny!” Trent says, taking a video of your son as he blew out the candle on the small cupcake in front of him. Your son’s fifth birthday was spent out with Trent, starting with him making breakfast again, taking the two of you to the park and Boston Commons as he played with Ben the entire time, out to dinner where you were now, treating you the entire way. Ben didn't even care about the gift that you had gotten from Andy, something he had previously looked forward to every year. Ben was starting to see Trent as a father figure, something that was both terrifying and exciting to you.

If Trent, for whatever reason, stopped wanting to be part of your life, that would mean he would also probably leave Ben’s, a boy who already didn’t know his father and didn’t seem to want to know him. But he wanted to know Trent, he loved Trent, and you knew Trent loved him, too. You were just afraid he would fall out of love.

Ben was giggling as Trent smashed part of the cupcake against his nose, the bright red frosting making him look like Rudolph as he tried, and failed, to lick it off himself.

“Did you get that part, too?” you ask Trent, leaning over to see his screen.

“Yeah, I’ll send it to you. Do you mind if I post it to my private story? Some of the guys and their wives would go crazy for this.”

“Only the private one,” you tell him, laughing as you turn to Ben to see his face more of a mess than before, the red frosting now spread to his cheeks, “Benny, what happened?”

“I’m painting,” he says, using his finger to smear the frosting on his face.

Trent can’t help but laugh, you pulling Ben in for a hug. Trent snaps a picture of you kissing the frosting off his face. “Wait a sec,” he says, calling over a waiter to take a picture of the three of you, both of you kissing Ben’s cheek as he beams at the camera.

You see him set his phone down, notifications lighting the screen up as you guys get ready to leave, the picture of the three of you his new phone background.

The next morning, Trent had morning skate before needing to get ready for their game that night. The last game before the All-Star Weekend marking the halfway point of the season was always both nerve-wracking and exciting, the hypothetical of ‘if the season ended today, would you be in or out of the playoffs?’ always on everyone’s mind even though it meant virtually nothing, but still wanting to stay at one of the top spots in the league regardless.

“Hey, what was with that story yesterday?” Jack asks him after practice.

“It was Ben’s birthday,” he shrugs.

“Isn’t it weird?” Zach asks. “She has a kid. She’s a mom. You aren’t a dad.”

“I never said I was his dad,” he defends himself, starting to take on a hostile tone.

“Well, you’re acting like his dad, aren’t you?”

Trent rolls his eyes as his only response. What was he supposed to do? Ignore that you have a child? Trent gets up to leave, Jack now standing in front of him to stop him.

“You’re with them all the time. You watch him when Y/N is busy. You brought them to family skate. You know his favorite toys, his favorite tv shows, you facetime them every night before the game because he’s going to be asleep by the time the game is over. You’re not his dad,” Jack lists to Trent, Trent getting more angry with every word that comes from his friend.

“What am I supposed to do? Pretend that Ben isn’t part of her life? Pretend that she has no kid? I can’t do that. I don’t want to do that.”

“It’s messing with you, Trent!” Jack yells, the rest of the remaining guys getting quiet. “You don’t do this. You don’t date a girl who has a child and play ‘house’ with her. You’re the guy who just fucks around and has fun. Where did he go?”

“I can’t change? I can’t settle down because I wasn’t settled before?” Trent responds, knowing that his face was bright red, “I love Y/N, and I love Ben. I don’t care if you think it’s ‘not normal.’ It’s what I want and you don’t really get a say in that.” Jack stands there, stunned by his friends' words, still struggling to find them as Trent grabs his bag and walks out of the room to go home before the game.

He wanted to call you and talk about it with you, but what was he going to say? ‘The guys think my dating you is weird since you have a son?’ The flash of your expression appeared in his mind when you realized the guys didn’t know about Ben at family skate, the pain he knew you felt when you thought he was ashamed of Ben. He wasn’t then and he isn’t now.

But what was he doing? Jack was right: he wasn’t Ben’s dad. He could never really be Ben’s dad. Why did your son mean so much to him if he had no relation to the child in the first place?

Why did he have to say he was all in? He was supposed to be focusing on himself and his hockey, not a girl he met at a bar and pouring all his excess energy into you and your son. What was he supposed to do? Pull back? Pull you away from your son? There was no way that was going to be an option, and there was no way that was an option he wanted to follow.

He was supposed to be following his normal pre-game traditions and routines, not having his mind run rampant over the thought of you and Ben and what his teammates think.

He pulls out his phone, a notification from Instagram telling him that you had responded to his story a few hours ago while he was at practice. Trent opens it, seeing the picture of Ben, looking so happy with the cupcake that was all his, the red frosting seconds from being smeared all over his face. Trent didn’t think about being a dad anytime soon. He really never had any intention of settling down, at least not yet, not seriously, yet there he was, thinking of Ben like his own son, head over heels for you and your son.

It was too much, wasn’t it?

His phone started buzzing with texts from the guys to make sure that he was ok after they watched his and Jack’s blow up in the locker room. Trent didn’t even care about them at this point, knowing that he should at least answer them even just to tell them to leave him alone for the time being.

But what if they were right? Jack’s words kept ringing through his head, that he was just a guy who had fun because that’s what he wanted, not a guy who settled down with a girlfriend, and especially not a guy who settled down with a girl who had a toddler.

He spent the entire time he was supposed to be taking a nap going back and forth between whether or not he was in too deep or if he was fine because he was in love. The night he met you, he had never intended to get this far in with you. He had just wanted to hook up, the reason he went home with you in the first place. But as soon as you told him about Ben, seeing the crushed look on your face at the prospect of him leaving because of your son, he knew that he couldn’t just be one and done. There was something about you and Ben that he had to be part of it once he was introduced, that part of his life that he never knew was missing until he realized he couldn’t picture his life without you.

And it was just too much.

Attitude Adjustment

Trent finally gets to the Garden, not even remembering who they were playing that night. He couldn’t think about anyone else, almost tempted to tell Bruce that he was sick so he could be a late scratch instead of letting this mess with him. Because no matter what he did, he couldn’t get out of his head and focus. The music that he normally played before a game wasn’t working, even so much as trying to close his eyes and picture being on the ice while he was in the locker room before the game.

No one approached him while he was in his stall, probably out of fear of another outburst from him. He wasn’t even paying attention when Bergeron gave his traditional pre-game motivational speech before they all went out to the ice, Trent skating around by himself in hopes of being able to focus before they played the Flames that night.

“Alright, what’s going on?” he hears someone say, not even noticing who came up to him in the first place.

He looks at Brad, suddenly thankful that there was someone on the team who knew what he was going through. “Katrina already had Sloane when you two met, right?”

“Y/N and Ben on your mind?”

“You were in the locker room after practice.”

The two of them skate around their half of the ice, the time before the game ticking down. “When you date a woman, when any two people date, there’s always going to be something that can get in the way and potentially break you up. That includes their family, their kids if they have them. You need to decide if you want to let Ben break you and Y/N up or if you’re going to take him in and not let him do that.”

The guys were migrating back to the bench, Brad still on the ice for the starting lineup. “It worked for you, though,” Trent says, hanging back as long as he could, his eyes darting back and forth between the clock and his teammate.

Brad shrugs, looking out to the blue line where Bergeron and Pastrnak were already waiting. “I don’t see Sloane as any less of my son than I see Sawyer as my daughter. It worked for me. If you want it to work for you, then you have to make it work.”

The buzzer sounds, Bruce yelling for Trent to get off the ice and onto the bench. Did he want this to work with you and Ben? What the three of you had was already great, but Trent had barely spent any time with you, a time when you and he could just be a couple without worry of anyone else.

Trent’s line goes out on the ice, his mind still occupied as he skates. The puck touches his stick, him making a mad dash towards the Flames net, only to get tangled up with Tkachuk, sending Trent to the ice. He doesn’t get up for a minute, trying to process what happened, an easy shot and probably goal just messed up, leading to a breakaway to the other end to put the Flames up 1-0 against the Bruins.

By the time he can finally get himself up, Bruce is yelling at him that if he messes up like that again then he’s benched the rest of the game, definitely not a good look going into the All-Star break. He gets back out on the ice, the same thing happening with him tripping on a breakaway, this time over himself instead of a Flame, again leading to them scoring and putting them up 2-0. He couldn’t get out of his head. Trent sat there the entire time, not even focusing on the game, not focusing on the comeback his own team had to win the game 4-3.

He didn’t talk to anyone in the locker room, rushing out as soon as he could to go home, hearing Brad’s voice carry through the hallway to the elevators as he explained what he knew about the situation, no doubt that Jack offered his own remarks that Trent was sure would have lead to them fighting right there.

He had never wanted to fight one of his teammates over shit they said before, let alone one of his best friends. Other guys on other teams? Sure. But Jack?

Trent gets into his car, his phone already blowing up, asking him if he had still wanted to come on the trip to Puerto Rico he and the guys had planned with their girlfriends a while back. He had completely forgotten about the trip, no one even mentioning it for the longest time, not even sure that it was actually booked by anyone.

What surprised him most was Jack asking in the group if you were going to come with them, followed by a separate text saying that he meant it, that he wanted you to come.

Maybe this is what you and Trent needed; a trip with the guys, the two of you able to spend some time alone and just be with each other without the constant worry of someone or something else. He texted back that he would be there, not sure about you yet.

“Hello?” you answer your phone, Ben’s coming through the background. Hearing him made Trent hesitate, swallowing hard.”Trent?”

“Yeah, uh,” he swallows again, “Sorry, um, mind if I stop by for a few minutes?”

You sit up from the couch, looking at the mess you didn’t even realize Ben had created during the game. “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you soon?” you say, hearing him start up his car.

“Yeah, awesome,” he says, hanging up before either of you could say anything else, practically speeding out of the Garden as fast as he could to get to you. The more he thought about it, the more excited he was about spending a week with you.

“Hey, Benny, guess who’s coming over soon?” you put on a cheery voice, crouching down to the floor where Ben was playing with his toys.

Your toddler started bouncing up and down, his arms waving around in excitement. “Trent?” he squeals.

“He should be here any minute, help me pick up some of your toys, ok?”

You and Ben start to scramble to pick everything up. You knew Trent wouldn’t normally care if there were toys on the ground, but there was something about the tone of his voice when he called to tell you that he was stopping by that worried you.

You had watched the game, you weren’t stupid that he had had an awful game, thankful that it was an earlier evening game that Ben could watch with you. Even he was upset when Trent fell, both times, getting benched and hearing Jack and Brick speculate what was up with one of their favorite players.

Ben continued to buzz around as you waited, thankful that he couldn’t sense the anxiety that was building up while waiting for Trent. You hear him knocking on the door, getting up while Ben seems to be oblivious to the sound. You smile when you see him, mirroring his own expression, the complete opposite of what you expected given the conversation you had minutes ago.

“I have something to ask you,” he starts, his hands on your waist as he starts walking you backward down the hall, seemingly toward your bedroom.

“Trent! Trent!” Ben comes up to the two of you, bouncing up and down, Trent's hands releasing their grip on you. “Are you coming on Friday?” Ben asks him, referencing his concert at school that Trent had promised to come to.

You saw the smile on Trent’s face fade at Ben’s words, a nervous look taking over as he knelt down to look Ben in the eye. “I really want to see your concert, buddy, but I’m not sure if I can make it. I’m gonna try, though, ok?” he tries to save face when he sees the crushed look on your son’s face.

Ben nods, not understanding what Trent was really saying to him. In his world, Trent saying he wasn’t sure meant he didn’t want to see him sing with his other classmates. “Um, Ben, why don’t you go play in your room for a little bit, ok?” you ask him, guiding him to his room, watching him run down the hall. You turn to your boyfriend, clearly confused by what he just told Ben. “It’s the All-Star break, what came up?”

“The guys and I are going away for the break, and I want you to come with me.”

“What are you talking about? You said you were staying here?” you ask him, praying that Ben doesn’t come out of his room and couldn’t hear any of this.

“I know, I know, but, come on, things change,” he says, taking your hand and trying to lead back down your hallway.

“Wait, Trent, come on,” you stop him, turning him around to face you. “You want Ben and I to come with you on a trip with the guys? What guys, where are you going?”

His expression drops again, “I was kinda hoping it would just be me and you.”

“And where would Ben be? I can’t just leave him alone. I can’t go away with you.”

“But, Y/N, come on,” he whines. “This could be so good for us. A few days, just you and me, no distractions, nothing stopping us from just being together, like a real couple.”

“Distractions? A real couple? Trent, what the,” you stop, realizing you were standing right outside of Ben’s door. You look between Trent and the door, Trent’s pleading expression as you take him down the hall, practically slamming the door to your own bedroom. “What the fuck are you talking about?” you hiss.

He sits on your bed, you still standing, towering over him. He puts his hands in his face, letting out a deep breath. “I’m,” he starts, “I just want time where it’s you and me. Other than that night at the bar, we almost never have had more than a few hours when you and I are alone. I need to get out of Boston for a bit, and I don’t want anyone with me beside you.”

“Trent, I can’t,” you protest, sitting down next to him.

“Yes, please, just say, yes.”

“No, Trent. You aren’t hearing what I’m saying.”

“I am, I just-”

“Ok, then you aren’t listening! I can’t just drop everything on a moment’s notice and go off with you on a vacation. I have a kid, and if you haven’t noticed, I can’t exactly afford a babysitter for more than two nights in a row, let alone watching him all day every day for an entire week.”

“Don’t worry, I can pay for one, I just need to get out of here, and I need you with me.”

“Trent, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Ben can stay with a sitter.”

“Don’t you get it? Ben comes first. Ben has to come first. When it comes to a decision between you and Ben, or anyone and Ben, my choice is always Ben. There is never a case when I’ll pick something or someone over him, especially not going on some trip with you and your frat boy-like teammates because you’re upset you had one bad game. I choose him every single time. Especially over you, Trent.”

“What about Ben’s father? Can’t he stay with Andy?”

You can’t help but gasp, hurt by what you thought Trent meant. “You mean the father that didn’t want him? I. Told you. This,” you say, standing up again, “Andy wants nothing to do with Ben. And right now it seems like neither do you.” You could feel the tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, turning around and heading out of your room. You couldn’t look at him. You had no idea where you were going to go, given that you had Ben in his room and couldn’t leave him.

“Y/N, please, I’m sorry,” he runs after you, stopping you before you reached the door. “I just want a few days, where it’s you and me. Where everything is easy for us. Where there’s nothing, no one, besides you and me.”

“This isn’t supposed to be easy. You knew it wasn’t going to be so why are you so shocked that this is how it is?” you tell him, the tears finally falling.

The two of you stand there for a minute, Trent starting to reach for you a few times before running his hands through his hair. “It’s me and Ben, or neither of us,” you give him an ultimatum. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, wishing he can find the words. “Fine. If you can’t make the decision, I will. Get out.”

“Y/N, come on.”

“No. If you have to think about it, then you aren’t ‘all in,’” you call back to the morning after you two met. “Because if you were, you wouldn’t have to think about it.”

Trent doesn’t say another word, pushing past you and leaving you there.

You press your back against the door, letting out a silent sob so that Ben can’t hear you. This was exactly what you were afraid of, wiping the tears from your face and peeling yourself off the door. You walk down the hall, hoping that Ben wouldn’t notice the redness that was probably in your eyes from crying, opening his door.

“Where’s Trent?” Ben asked, handing you a toy of his when you sit down on his floor with him.

You swallow hard, not sure what to really tell him. “He had to go, Benny,” you say, running your hand on his hair, pulling him close to kiss the top of his head.

“When’s he coming back, Mommy?”

You put on a fake smile for him, not wanting to let him know when you really thought Trent would be back. “I don’t know, sweetie. Not this week.”

I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing

You hadn’t checked anyone’s story on Instagram since last night, sitting on the metal chairs in the middle of the day, surrounded by parents much older than you, figuring now was probably the only time you hate the chance.

You tap through them, some stories from friends from college, random celebrities that you followed. You finally get to Jack’s story from last night. They were in Puerto Rico, in some dark restaurant. Zach and Jeremy were dancing, Jack behind the camera. In the corner, you could see Trent sitting at a table, looking miserable. He sees Jack with his camera, shakes his head and storms off. You replay the story, Jack’s shaking making you think that he was saying something and turning the sound on low, holding the phone to your ear. You could hear the music more than anything else, sounds of Zach, Jeremy, and Jack’s laughter breaking through after one of them said something inaudible. Trent must have gotten up at that point, because you hear Jack yell, “Oh, Trent! Come on, man! Have some fun!”

You go to Trent’s profile, hoping that he had posted anything. The last photo he has posted was of the two of you, him strategically cropping out Ben because you had asked him to. It was from Ben’s birthday, outside the restaurant. He had captioned it, ‘Spent the day with my two favorite people, Bear not shown.’

Ben’s preschool teacher gets up on the stage, the high-pitched whispers of the four- and five-year-olds starting by the back door as Ms. Barry introduces the class, all of them walking up in a line to the stage. They start waving to their parents, Ben waving to you as everyone, including you, has their phone out waving back and recording the moment. The children start singing ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,’ their pixie-like voices filling the auditorium, all slightly out of key and slightly out of sync with each other. Towards the end of the song, you notice Ben starting to jump up and down, anxious over something he saw towards the back of the auditorium, as did some of the other children. You figured it was nothing, none of the other parents turning around to look at what it was either.

They go onto their next song, one you weren’t paying attention to, nor did you recognize it. Ben was no less antsy than he was before, waving again with the biggest smile on his face. It had to be someone.

You turn around, Trent leaning against the back wall, one hand in his pocket while the other was waving to Ben. All of his attention was on Ben. You turn back in your seat, shocked that he was there. He was supposed to be in Puerto Rico.

You put your bag on the seat, the mom next to you promising to watch it. You sneak back to Trent, not sure what to say to him. You turn to Ben, giving him the thumbs up and a single finger to tell him that you were going to be back in a second, feeling bad that you were leaving your so. Ben jumps up and down, nodding and continuing to sing.

You grab Trent, pulling him out of the room and into the small hallway. “What are you doing here? You were in Puerto Rico last night; I saw you on Jack’s story.”

He looks down at his feet, biting his bottom lip. “I couldn’t be there knowing you and Ben were here.”

“That’s not what you said when you wanted to go.”

He nods, looking up at you for a second before his eyes flick back down to his feet. “I told you I was dumb.”

“So why are you here then?”

“I told you when we first met that I was all in. I can’t be all in if I’m not here.”

“So?”

He takes a step closer to you, hesitating for a moment. “So. I don’t want to miss anything with you, or with Ben.” You don’t know what came over you, kissing him outside your son’s concert the way you did. You can hear the parents start to cheer, signaling that the concert was finished. Trent pulls away, your foreheads pressed against each other. He smiles before stealing a kiss again, pulling you back inside.

Ben comes running up to you, giggling with his arms open. “Trent!”

“Benny Bear!” he responds, crouching down with his arms open, hugging Ben when he came in contact. He picks him up, kissing him on the cheek, your hand on Trent’s back.

“You came! You’re back!” Ben squeals, burying his face in Trent’s shoulder.

“Back and here to stay,” he says to you, giving you a quick kiss before putting Ben down, getting your bag, and going home.

#trent frederic #trent frederic imagines #boston bruins #bruins imagines #boston bruins imagines #bruins #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines #aerosmith fic

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