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myloversgone · 1 year

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What Happens in Vegas…

Summary: Dean and Donna are in a relationship and, when they go to Las Vegas on vacation, she makes a decision that can change everything…

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum

Warnings: +18 story! Do not read if you’re underage! Smut, descriptions of sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), p in v, dirty talk, little tiny bit of angst and body insecurities. Post series finale.

Word count: 7,100~ (I’m sorry I have no self-control)

A/N: What inspired me to write this story was Briana Buckmaster’s Instagram post about JIBCon 2023. I used her photos for the header. I hope you enjoy it!

A/N 2: This story can be read both as a one-shot or as a sequel to On My Way To You. Your choice ;)

A/N 3: I don’t own the song lyrics or the gif I used in this story. If you’re the owner of the gif, let me know and I’ll happily include the source.

MY MASTERLIST

Since Chuck was defeated, monsters got more rare and hunting became more of a side job for the Winchesters than their main activities. For Dean, that also meant he got to spend more time with Donna.

They’ve been together for almost three years but, for most of that time, they would be away from each other for long periods. With the defeat of their biggest enemy, Donna kept her work as a Sheriff, while Dean became a mechanic, taking jobs mostly in restoring classic cars, and going on hunts from time to time.

With his job being the more flexible one, Dean would usually go to Donna’s place so she didn’t have to ask for days-off and vacations all the time.

One afternoon, Donna got an early shift; the last one before her long-awaited vacation. She managed to take 15 days off, and she planned to spend each and every second of them with Dean, who had arrived in Stillwater that same morning.

They didn’t have any specific plans for her vacation but, on the way home, Donna had an idea.

“Dean, I’m home!”, she yelled from the front door as she entered the house.

“Hey, sweetheart”, he greeted, coming from the kitchen to meet her.

“Hey you”, Donna smiled, showing her dimples. She wrapped her arms around Dean’s neck while his circled her waist, squeezing her body against his and giving her a long kiss.

Donna moaned into his mouth. She would never get tired of kissing him. He was so thorough, so passionate and attentive. He would put his feelings in the smallest kiss, and she could always tell how much he cared about her with the simplest touches.

The woman pushed her fingers through Dean’s hair. It was longer now, for the first time since she met him and, according to Sam, for the first time ever. After a lot of convincing from her part, he agreed to let it grow a little. Everytime a strand would fall on his face, Donna’s heart leaped in her chest. It was the sexiest thing ever. She didn’t know how he managed to look better with age, but she found Dean sexier now than when she met him all those years ago.

Dean was also sporting a beard, but stopping him from shaving so often didn’t take too much convincing from her part. All it took was one wild night where he ate her out like it was his last meal, and his scruff left burns on her inner thighs. The morning after, when he saw the marks, he felt convinced enough.

“Dang it, thank goodness I’m on office duty today, ‘cause walking and running around with my pants scratching my thighs would be a pain in the ass…”, Donna mumbled in front of the mirror, checking the red marks while getting dressed for work. She shimmied into her pants and Dean came to stand behind her.

“You know you look damn sexy with these burn marks, right?”, he asked, kissing her neck, exposed by the tight bun her hair was tied into. That day, she ended up getting late for work.

Now, back in her living room, they broke the kiss, and Dean looked at her with bedroom eyes. “How was your day, beautiful?”

She blushed, like everytime he gave her a compliment. “It went fine, but I was counting the seconds to come home to see you, ‘cause I have an idea”. Donna said, smiling and placing a feathery kiss on his lips. She went past him, in the direction of the stairs leading to the bedroom.

Dean turned around to watch her climbing the stairs, openly ogling her ass. He loved that he didn’t have to steal glances anymore.

“Oh, yeah? And what idea is that?”, he asked, tailing Donna, taking two steps at a time to get to the bedroom’s door with her.

She looked at him over her shoulder, proceeding to take off her Sheriff uniform. “How do you feel about going to Vegas?”.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Dean loved the idea. It was going to be their first road trip together, the first time he was taking Donna on a long journey in the Impala. She didn’t even try to persuade him to fly to Las Vegas, because at that point, she knew all about his fear of planes. Plus, she loved the idea of being on the road with Dean and his beloved car.

The whole trip took two days. They stopped in a nice little hotel to get some rest, and three or four times in secluded spaces on mostly empty roads to make out whenever the sexual tension inside the car was too much for any of them to handle.

The rest of the time, they spent singing along to old rock songs on the radio, eating snacks, or chatting. Donna would usually sit right beside Dean, her head on his shoulder while he gently caressed her curly hair. She would fall asleep sometimes, feeling comfortable and safe by his side, but she did her best to stay awake, keeping him company.

Every once in a while, Donna would get lost in watching Dean drive. The way he owned that driver’s seat, how his long, broad body filled up the space, it was fascinating to her.

One of those times, Dean caught her looking.

“Why you staring at me, sweetheart?”, he asked, stealing a glance at her, eyes coming back to the road a second later.

“It’s just that- dang it, Winchester, am I the luckiest lady or the planet or what? Still can’t believe you chose me, ya know”, she shook her head, feeling a little emotional all of a sudden.

Dean looked at her again and reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers together and bringing it to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “You chose me too, D. You could’ve kicked my butt when I flirted with ya, or I could’ve been just a one time thing for ya, but you gave me a chance when I was deep down in the hunter life. I had nothing to offer and you still believed in me”.

Donna was again leaning her head on his shoulder, but she turned her face into his direction. “Watcha talking about? You stood by my side every time, during hunts, with my dickbags exes, you showed me I deserved someone good. You’re not just a pretty little face, Dean-o, you’re my guy”, she said, reaching up to give him a quick kiss.

He smiled against her lips, whispering “I love you, D-Train”.

She placed her head comfortably on his shoulder again. “I love you too, Dean-o. ‘Sides, Jody always told me you had it bad for me. I just needed to check if she was right”.

—-----------------------------------------------------

They arrived in Vegas before it was dark, and went straight to their room to shower and leave their luggage. The plan was to be quick so they could have dinner at the hotel’s restaurant and enjoy the casino.

They ended up getting late because Dean decided to join Donna in the shower.

After dinner, Donna watched Dean playing poker for a while, then they went to play pool together. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, watching her moving in the tight black turtleneck and blue jeans that accentuated every curve of her gorgeous body.

There were two guys playing in the other pool table right next to theirs and, apparently, one of them couldn’t take his eyes off of Donna too, Dean noticed. He would openly ogle her ass every time she bent over the table to play.

Donna didn’t seem to notice it. She took playing pool seriously. She wanted to win and Dean was a great player, so she focused on the game and her boyfriend. Also because he looked freaking amazing, and she couldn’t stop looking at him anyways.

But Dean wasn’t about to let a random dude ogle Donna, not only because she was with him, but also because the guy was being a freak. So when it was his turn to play, he moved to her side of the table, walking behind her and sneaking one arm around her waist, hugging her. Donna leaned against him, and he gave her a kiss on the cheek. Her smile showed her cute dimples, and she returned Dean’s caress, kissing the corner of his mouth. He squeezed her tighter and said “I love you”, loud enough for the guy to hear.

Dean played and sneaked a glance to the other table. The weird dude and his friend had left.

Later in the night, Dean went back to playing cards, but Donna wasn’t feeling like it, so she stayed with him for a while and looked around the casino, observing other guests and thinking about what she wanted to do next. In one corner of the room, there was a karaoke machine.

Dean was focused on the game, but he noticed when Donna left his side. He followed her with his eyes. Her back was turned to him while she talked to a woman, an employee of the casino and, when she turned around, she had a microphone in her hands and a playful smile on her face.

Suddenly, he forgot all about the cards. Donna had a great voice, but she would never sing in public. Only when it was just the two of them. He’d told her she was really good, but she said he was just being nice. So the perspective of watching her sing in front of strangers made Dean feel excited, proud, and aroused, all at once.

When the song started, he knew which one it was before Donna could even open her mouth.

I love myself

I want you to love me

When I feel down

I want you above me

I search myself

I want you to find me

I forget myself

I want you to remind me

I don't want anybody else

When I think about you

I touch myself

As she sang, she ran her free hand on the sides of her body, moving with the rhythm of the music, shaking her head and her hips in an exaggerated but very sexy way, in Dean’s opinion. Cards completely forgotten on the table, he turned his chair around to have a better view of his girlfriend.

Donna put all of her powerful voice and confidence into the performance, eyes glued to Dean while she sang. She was doing that for herself, as an ego boost, just to prove that she could (with the help of a few drinks - baby steps), but it was also for him. Dean taught her that it was okay to speak her mind, to talk about sex and fantasies and how she wanted to be touched; how she wanted to feel. With that song, she couldn’t be more clear.

When the music stopped, the audience applauded and whistled. A few women went to the stage to compliment Donna, and even from a distance, Dean could see she blushed when a woman said “you should be a professional singer!”. When the ladies left, she walked back to him and he went to meet her halfway.

“So”, she started, staring at her feet and smoothing invisible wrinkles on her clothes, “what d’ya think about my performance?”, Donna asked, a dimpled smile adorning her features.

Dean was smirking, green eyes sparkling with delight. “Sweetheart, do you even need to ask? That was fucking awesome and incredibly sexy”, he answered, pulling her into a hug followed by a hot kiss.

She smiled against his lips. “Thank you. It’s true, though”, Donna stated when they broke the kiss.

“What is?”, Dean questioned, intoxicated with her taste.

“What the song says”. She watched his still confused expression. He really was inebriated. “I mean, when I think about you I do touch myself”, she whispered in his ear, standing on her tiptoes.

Dean felt her revelation going straight to his cock. If he hadn’t been already head over heels for her before, now he surely was.

“Jesus fuck, Sheriff Hanscum, you cannot say those things and expect me to not drag you to our room and have my way with you”, he said, circling her waist with one arm and guiding her in the direction of the elevators.

“Oh, well, I’d say mission accomplished then!”, she giggled, excited for what was to come.

—-----------------------------------------------------

After the night of fun and games, singing and drinking, they were both a little tipsy and eager to be alone. Their room was on the fifth floor and Dean couldn’t take his hands off of her, not even during the short elevator trip.

When they reached their destination, Donna opened the door and pulled her boyfriend inside. She locked the door and turned around to look at Dean, who was standing at the foot of the bed, hands in his pants pockets, staring at her with the most sexy smile, strands of hair falling on his forehead.

She bit her lip, smiling back.

“I had so much fun, babe”, she said, approaching him seductively. “And you look so very handsome all in black”, she raised her head to give him a kiss, and Dean wrapped his arms around her, taking the moment to run his hands all over her curves again.

“And you look hot as always, D”, he told her, squeezing her against his chest and lifting her chin to deepen the kiss, thoroughly licking inside her mouth, leaving Donna breathless. She threw her arms over his shoulders, sinking her fingers into the longer hair on the nape of his neck.

Dean broke the kiss and nibbled and sucked lightly on her jaw, making her throw her head back to expose her neck to him.

Between kisses and kitten licks, Dean would groan and nuzzle her, as Donna pressed her body further into his.

When Dean’s hands went under her blouse, she stopped him.

“Wait, Dean. I wanna take a picture. We both look fancy!”, she asked, excited, releasing him and searching for her phone in the tiny bag she placed on the bed when they arrived. Dean gave her a frustrated look, but she winked at him. “I gotcha, cowboy. We are not done. I just need to register this moment”, the blonde reassured.

She positioned the phone on the small vanity opposite to the bed. Dean came closer, resting his elbow on the back of the chair in front of the piece of furniture. When they were both ready, she clicked the button multiple times.

Donna checked the photos. “Oh, my, we look too serious! Let’s try smiling, okay?”.

Four or five pictures later, Dean was done with it. “God, woman, my face hurts from smiling!”. His grumpy complaint made Donna laugh out loud, and seeing her laugh made Dean laugh too, which resulted in a cute photo of them with beautiful smiles.

“Okay, I think we have enough pics! Lemme choose one to send to Jody and the gals”, said Donna, stretching her arm to grab the phone. But Dean was faster, and he swooped her into his arms before she could reach it.

She was laughing in surprise, and Dean threw her on the bed, laying on top of her, watching her amusement with nothing but pure admiration in his eyes.

“Damn, my girl is a bombshell”, he stated, taking in every detail of her, luscious, wavy blonde hair splayed on the pillows, rosy cheeks and dimples adorning her pretty face.

She averted his gaze, blushing with his compliment even after all those years. “Am not”, Donna dodged his comment.

“Yes, you are, baby. Beautiful, hot, sexy, all blonde and perfect and mine”, he insisted. She placed her hand on his cheek, thumb lightly caressing his full lips.

Dean leaned down and kissed her deeply, pushing his tongue into her mouth. She moaned underneath him and pulled back to take her top off, exposing her black lacy bra to his gaze. She worked on unbuttoning his shirt then, while he kissed the air out of her.

When Donna was done with Dean’s shirt, her hands traveled down to his pants, unfastening them. She could see the bulge of his erection stretching the cloth. Her mouth watered in anticipation. Her boyfriend was beautiful all over, and the excitement she felt the first time she saw him naked never really faded. It was still there, every time he got out of the shower or undressed in front of her.

But Dean grabbed her wrists and pinned her hands above her head. By then, she was only in her lingerie. He had worked fast on removing her pants, eager to feel her skin.

Dean’s mouth went to her neck and collarbone, slowly working his way down. When he reached her breasts, he gently bit the meaty part right above the cups of her bra.

“Mmmm, D, your tits are amazing”, he said, voice muffled while still working his magic with his tongue and lips. “I could spend hours using my mouth on them and make you cum with just that”, Dean looked up at her, green eyes glistening, locks of hair falling over his forehead. He looked devilishly handsome.

Donna moved under him, opening her legs wider to fit Dean’s body in between and, hopefully, get some friction where she needed it the most. “I know you could, cowboy, but not today. You’re killing me here”, she pleaded, already breathing hard.

“Tell me what you want, baby girl”, he teased, releasing her wrists so he could use both hands to take off her bra.

“Want you in me, Dean”, she moaned, and the sight of her bare chest and her needy request made his cock twitch in his pants.

He desperately wanted to fuck her hard and deep, make her scream and sweat under him, but he also wanted to tease her a little, enjoy her creamy skin and generous curves, get lost on her body, smell her, taste her as much as he could. Dean felt like he could spend his entire life with Donna and never get enough of her.

“I wanna taste you, sweetheart. Can I?”, he kept going, mouth glued to her skin, releasing her left nipple and leaving it sensitive. He was kissing her navel, with his hands on her hips, arms hooked under her knees to keep her open for him.

“Oh, for goodness sake, Dean, just do it already”, she cried desperately, writhing under him.

He chuckled and kissed her lower belly, right above the panty line. “Do you know how much I love your skin, Donna? How soft you are? How the curve of your hips drives me crazy?”, his fingers were digging onto her sides, his huge, calloused hands holding her, then descending to the curve of her butt. “You’re so fucking hot, it’s unbelievable”.

“Stop teasing, dirty boy”, she asked, taking action this time. She freed her legs and got a hold of him with them, using her knees and heels to pull Dean up and reach his mouth, giving him a passionate, open mouthed kiss. She sucked on his plump lower lip, positioning her arms around his muscular shoulders. Dean still managed to sneak his hand between her legs, pressing over her mound with his palm, long, thick fingers easily finding her center.

“So wet for me, D. So beautiful”, he complimented against her lips. Donna sighed in relief and satisfaction, finally having him where she wanted. Well, she actually wanted Dean to fuck her, to fill her up in that way that only him could, but she wouldn’t deny being pleasured by his fingers, not at all. Especially because he knew exactly how to make her crazy with those massive hands of his.

“Oh, Lord, I need to feel you, Dean. Please, honey”, Donna gave him her best Minnesota drawl, knowing that her boyfriend couldn’t deny her anything when she spoke like that.

She was right. Dean groaned and stood on his knees on the bed, ripping her panties off. Literally. The lacy fabric was turned into scrapes, making her gasp in surprise and excitement. They’ve been crazy in the bedroom before, but not rip-your-clothes-off crazy. She felt herself getting wetter, knowing that anything he wanted to do would be wonderful.

Dean wasn’t as willing to keep teasing Donna as he was before. She was driving him mad with her little noises and her begging, he was almost sending all the tease to hell and skipping right to the main attraction. She used to be so quiet and shy in bed, that having her leading him on was incredibly arousing.

When she was completely, beautifully naked in front of him, her perfect wet cunt exposed to his sight, making his mouth water, he thought it was time for him to feel more of that amazing skin of her against his. Also, his pants were way too tight with how hard his cock was.

So he threw what was left of her panties aside and started to unbutton his pants. Donna sat on the bed and helped him with it, throwing the piece of clothing into a corner of the room when she was done.

She kissed his naked chest and down, putting her mouth right where the line of hair started under his belly button. Dean knew what her intentions were, but he couldn’t take it now. Maybe later, definitely later, but first he needed to taste her.

“No, no, not now. C’mere”, he pulled her up, holding her chin with one hand and taking her hand in his other one. He guided it to the front of his boxers, making her feel how painfully hard he was.

“Look how hard you make me. Lemme taste you now, lemme do it so you’ll be ready for me”, he said against her mouth, his face inches from hers, his hot breath forming goosebumps on her skin.

“Yes, babe. Do it”, she whispered in response, squeezing and caressing his cock through the thin cloth.

Dean gave her one more wet kiss, placing his hand on the back of her head and gently pushing her to lay back on the bed. He remained on top of her and between her legs, letting go of her lips and keeping eye contact while snaking down her body.

He started by kissing her pussy, right below the patch of hair she kept neatly trimmed. Then, Dean used his thumb and index finger to spread her lips and expose her clit, immediately putting his mouth on it. With the first contact of the tip of his tongue, Donna was moaning loudly.

“Ohhh, good Lord in Heaven”, she threw her head back, fists holding the sheets tightly.

Dean moaned, knowing very well how the vibration of his voice would increase the pleasure. He started sucking and licking on the little nub, adding a finger into her entrance right after, heart racing in anticipation when he felt how slick and wet she was.

He licked her thoroughly, pressing his nose and chin into her, fucking her with his tongue and pushing her closer to the edge with every movement.

It didn’t take long for Donna to come, calling his name and holding onto fistfuls of his hair.

Dean stood on his knees again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while she recovered.

He removed his boxers, giving her a full view of his perfect body and of how hard he was.

“Jesus H, Winchester. You have no business looking that good”, Donna stated between labored breaths, watching him. Dean chuckled and laid down by her side, supporting his head with one arm and circling her waist with the other to pull her body closer and kiss her.

Donna could taste herself and the whiskey they drank during dinner in Dean’s mouth. She sucked on his tongue, moaning. That man’s mouth was made for kissing, she had no doubt.

He ran his hands all over her curves, enjoying her softness and warmth. He couldn’t help but return to her breasts, giving both a good squeeze and pinching her nipples.

She gasped against his mouth, breaking the kiss. “I want you now, Dean”, Donna said, looking right into his eyes, the brown of her irises glistening.

“You have me, baby”, he answered, positioning his body on top of her and entering her slowly, just the tip first, knowing he was not small and even with how wet she was, he needed to be careful to not hurt her.

Dean asked if she was ok, to which Donna nodded, biting on her lower lip while watching the wide head of his cock stretching her pussy.

He pushed further, halfway through his length, and she shivered, throwing her head back.

“Ooooh, fuuuck”, Donna cursed under her breath, sinking her nails into his bicep, the feel of him inside of her too good to handle.

“It’s okay, beautiful, I’ll go slow so you can take all of me”, he grinned proudly, making her giggle.

“Gimme more, big boy”, she pleaded, shimmying her hips to pull him deeper.

He finally buried himself to the root. He could feel all of her, her walls constricting around him, increasing his pleasure almost to the unbearable.

“Wow, D, you feel so fucking good”, he said, kissing her again and pulling his cock almost all the way out, just to push it all in again, making her moan and whimper.

“You too, cowboy. You’re stretching me so good, it’s so hot”, she reached down his back, squeezing one buttcheek to take him deeper. At the same time, Dean angled his hips upwards, pressing right into her clit, and she cried in pleasure.

Crossing her ankles behind his knees, she made herself even tighter, while Dean fucked her deep, long strokes hitting the perfect spot.

Donna lifted her torso from the bed, arms around her boyfriend’s neck, and kissed him, pulling his plump lower lip between her teeth. She threw her head back and moaned loudly, and Dean softly nibbled her throat and snapped his hips harder against hers, fucking her into the matress. He could tell she was close and she could feel him too, deliciously pulsing inside her.

To make sure she would come first, Dean sneaked his hand between their bodies and pressed his palm over her mound, pushing her clit against his dick and keeping the upwards movements with his hips, knowing it would be enough to drive her off the edge.

“Open your eyes, Donna. Look at me when you come on my cock”, he commanded between his teeth, jaw clenched in an effort to keep going while she hit her peak.

Donna did her best to obey, even through the fog of incredible pleasure she was in. Her pussy tightened and Dean groaned louder. He buried himself impossibly deep and the angle of his hips was exactly what she needed to cum, shaking and trembling under him, digging her nails into his muscular back, her eyes open and boring into his, pupils dilated and face contorted as her body experienced the strong orgasm.

The tightness of her was enough to trigger Dean’s release, and he guided her through her orgasm while he throbbed inside her. He mouthed a throaty “fuck” when it was his turn to cum, flooding her with his warm seed.

Donna could feel Dean’s cum leaking down her pussy, her ass and the back of her thighs. He was fucking her so deep, keeping his cock buried like he wanted to plant his seed into her. She rotated her hips, adding to both their pleasures and milking him dry. Dean panted and grunted, face buried in her neck, and she knew he had an amazing ride too.

Once they were both done, Dean didn’t move, with half of his body still laying on top of Donna, his softening cock still inside of her. He gave a deep, exaggerated sigh and she chuckled, kissing his shoulder.

“You ok, Dean-o?”, she teased, the hands that were around his neck now descending to caress his back slowly.

“Oh, yes. I couldn’t be better. I might need a few hours to be back on my feet, though”, he muttered, face still buried on the junction of her neck and shoulder.

Donna chuckled, and decided to keep pushing his buttons. “Oh, ok. I was kinda expecting you to be ready for another round soon. I mean, I could be on top this time-”

Dean didn’t even let her finish talking and he was already holding her waist and quickly flipping them over, so she would be straddling his hips.

Donna left out a squeal and started laughing her ass off. “My lordy, Winchester, I really learned how to win you over, huh?”, she said, leaning down to give him a kiss.

“You know I’d do anything to have you on top of me”, he said after they pulled apart.

He pushed her long hair out of the way and placed one hand on the side of her neck, guiding her into the kiss while his other hand was running up and down her thigh, the softness of her skin against his calloused palm a perfect contrast.

“Anything?”, she asked, whispering inches away from lips and grinding her center down his cock that, she could feel, was getting hard again.

“Yes, baby. Anything. Anything to watch you riding me, those beautiful tits bouncing just for me”, Dean reached behind her, holding his cock and guiding it back inside her. Donna took him with a sigh of satisfaction. “I wanna appreciate all of you, D. Every perfect inch”, he stated, thrusting up into her as she grounded down, both of them finding that perfect rhythm, that push and pull that would once more prove how they were meant to be together.

“You’re so amazing, Dean”, Donna said, sitting back on him and guiding his hands to her breasts. “You make me feel beautiful”.

“You are beautiful, sweetheart”.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Her head was on his chest, and Donna drew lazy patterns on the muscles covering his ribs. She always loved the smell of him, but especially right now, when it was a mix of the cologne she bought him as a birthday gift, sweat, and sex. The perfect combination.

“I love you, Dean”, she bluntly said, lifting her head to look at his face. He’d been toying with her hair, curling the waves between his fingers. He stopped and looked down at her; she was smiling.

He smiled back, thinking that the life he had now was so much more than he ever thought he deserved, that he never thought was even possible. “I love you too, D-Train”.

She kissed his chest and started to move with the intention of getting up.

“Where ‘you going?”, asked Dean, not happy with the loss of her body on top of his.

“I’ll be right back, cowboy, just gonna get the PJs I have in my suitcase and-”

Dean interrupted her explanation by moving fast, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling her back to him by her waist.

She squeaked and giggled, having been caught completely off-guard this time. “Dean Winchester, whatta hell ‘you doing?”

With her on his lap, he kissed her shoulder and neck, nuzzling and inhaling her scent before answering. “I’m stopping you from getting dressed”.

“Why?”, she questioned, raising an eyebrow and twisting on his lap so she could face him.

“‘Cause there’s no point. I’m gonna undress you again, probably sooner than later. So, if you wanna sleep now, you better sleep naked and save me the trouble later”, he winked at her, and she pushed her fingers through his hair.

“Fiiine”, she rolled her eyes in fake annoyance and leaned forward to give him a kiss before they would lay side by side, falling in a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Donna woke up in the middle of the night with her bladder so full she thought it might explode. Doing her best to not disturb Dean’s sleep, she got out of bed as stealthy as possible, walking to the bathroom but stopping halfway to steal a glance at her boyfriend.

He was sleeping on his stomach, arms tucked under the pillow. She admired the round muscles on his shoulders and biceps, and how the dim light touched the dip in the middle of his back, accentuating the plain muscles she loved so much. He looked peaceful and so, so beautiful, she could barely believe he was real.

She smiled and resumed her path.

As she was washing her hands after peeing, she got lost in her thoughts, and the resolution to make a big decision settled in her loving heart. But first, she needed to talk to someone.

"Hey, Jack", she called in a whisper, looking up, uncertain of how exactly this thing would work. It's not like she had a personal, direct connection with God before.

Somehow, she knew he was listening, so she cleared her throat and kept going, still in a whisper, deciding it was better to say it out loud than just think.

"Okay, Jackie-boy, I hope things are okay up there and that you're not too busy right now. If you are, you can listen to this message later… or, whatever. Not sure if you have a voicemail or something". She shook her head, feeling foolish but needing to get on with what she wanted to do.

"I just wanted to say that I'm doing something life-changing in a few hours, and I want to ask you to help me with that. I mean, if what I'm gonna do is too crazy, can you please stop me before I do it?", she chuckled and tears filled her eyes.

"I don't think I need to go into much detail, 'cause you probably know what I'm talking about, since you're God and all, so… yeah, if you can just do your stuff and guide me through this, that would be great". Donna took a deep breath and some tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Oh, and I also wanna thank ya, by the way. Whatever happens- doesn't matter how life goes for me… if- if for some reason Dean and I don't… if we don't get to stay together", she stopped herself, the mere thought of being without Dean breaking her heart into a million pieces. "I just need you to know that I'm grateful for every single second I've spent with him so far. He changed my life for the best and I-", her voice broke in a cry of happiness and fear, all at once, "I love him very much. He's the best man I've ever met". She took another deep breath, closing her eyes and wiping away the tears.

Donna opened the bathroom door and went back to the bedroom. Dean hadn't moved, and she really didn't want to wake him up, but she couldn’t help but curl up into his side when she laid down. Without opening his eyes, Dean turned on his side, making space for her and throwing his arm around her waist. She closed her eyes and went back to sleep, at peace with her decision and hoping for the best.

‐‐—---------------

The next morning, Dean woke up to the sight of a naked Donna between his legs, lightly scratching his thighs with her fingernails. When he opened his eyes, she gave him a wet kiss on a spot dangerously close to his groin, instantly waking up his dick.

“‘Morning, handsome”, she sang, giving him another kiss, this time on his pelvis, right above the patch of hair framing his cock.

“‘Morning to you too, Sheriff. What are you doing down there? Trying to murder me?”, he asked, voice thick with sleep.

“Nah, just wanna put my mouth on ya. Ya know, repay what you did for me last night”, she replied, kissing the root of his hard cock. Even though Dean recognized he had great stamina, the way his body reacted so fast to Donna was amazing even to himself. He felt like he was 20 and horny all the time.

“You don’t have to pay me back-”

She interrupted him by holding his cock and surrounding it with her mouth. Donna moaned and sucked eagerly, placing her elbows on the bed to support her weight and lifting her hips to give him a view of her round, full ass.

“God, woman”, he hissed, enjoying the feel of her hot mouth on him. He lifted his head to take a good look at her, the main character of each and every one of his dirty dreams.

Donna was being thorough, sucking and licking him like a lollipop, taking him as far as she could, dragging her lips around his dick and using her nails on his belly and thighs, making his breath hitch with every move.

Dean couldn’t help himself, so he reached for the messy bun on the top of her head and undid it, holding her long hair in a ponytail and fucking her mouth while guiding her up and down his length. The noises she was making and the feel of her tongue on the vein on the underside of his dick were driving him crazy. He wouldn’t last much longer.

“Fuck, Donna. Fuck, I’m gonna cum”, he warned after a particularly satisfying thrust, feeling that familiar pressure building up.

She sucked him further down her throat and swallowed, and he lost it, thick ropes of cum filling her mouth. Donna drank as much as she could, enjoying Dean’s taste and scent. In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but think of how much he helped free her from her inhibitions, showing her how good it was to have someone she could trust and feel comfortable to be herself around.

Jody was the friend to first point out how Donna’s previous relationships hadn’t worked because the guys were assholes, and not because there was something wrong with her. But Dean was the first man to show her there were good guys out there, and how amazing it was to be treated with respect and love, to make her feel desired and sexy.

She released his softening cock with a pop and started to get up to go clean her mouth, but Dean pulled her from the foot of the bed, grabbing her butt with both hands while he kissed her, shoving his tongue inside her mouth, finding the mess they made incredibly hot.

He licked and bit her lips gently, squeezing her buttcheeks and giving a light slap, making her gasp and hum.

“God, baby, that was so dirty and sexy”, Dean said, hugging her waist with the intention of keeping her on top of him, but she shook her head, laying on her side of the bed and patting her chest, signaling that he should be the one covering her.

He accepted, placing one leg between hers and making himself comfortable on her breasts. Half of his body was on top of hers and they just stayed like that, in silence for a few minutes. Dean was listening to her heartbeats, while Donna was caressing his hair lazily, watching his post-sex doziness. His eyes were closed but he was awake, she could tell by his breathing. That seemed to be the right moment to put into action the plan she “discussed” with Jack during the night. She took a deep breath, gathering the necessary courage.

“Dean?”.

“Hmm?”

“‘You awake?”

He chuckled, his deep voice resonating in her chest. “Yes, sweetheart. Ready for another one?”.

She giggled and shook her head. “No, that’s not it. I mean, duh, of course I won’t deny another round, but that’s not what I was going to ask”.

Dean lifted his head a few inches and tilted his neck to look at her. “What, then?”

She looked down to meet his eyes, the clear green making her heart skip a few beats. Donna opened her mouth to speak and blushed deeply, unsure of where to start.

Dean looked worried. “What is it, D? Something wrong?”

“N-no! Everything is perfectly fine! Peachy”, she assured, voice higher than normal.

“Okay, so tell me”. Dean waited, watching her face.

“Well, the thing is… I love you. You love me. I mean, you do, right?”, Donna asked, suddenly unsure, regardless of Dean having repeated many times how much he loved her.

“I do, Donna. I love you so freaking much”, he smiled, stretching his neck further to give her a kiss.

“‘Kay, so we love each other, we’ve been together for a while now, we’re here in Vegas… Oh, shoot, Dean, what I wanna ask is if you wanna marry me!”

He stared at her in silence, his mouth opened in shock.

Five seconds later Donna was on the verge of tears, sure that he would say no and/or laugh on her face.

But Dean smiled, and the smile reached his eyes, showing the wrinkles that she found so adorable.

“Are you seriously asking me to marry you in Vegas? With Elvis as a minister and everything?”, he questioned, the playful smile still there.

“Yes. Yes, I am. Please, just answer my question or I think I’m gonna have a heart attack”, she pleaded, frowning a little and bracing herself for the blow.

“And you really thought I would say no to that? Me, Dean Winchester, say no to getting married in freaking Las Vegas?”

It was Donna’s turn to just stare at him, not quite following if that was a yes or a no. Her mind was blank, her insecurities taking over.

“Ask me again, Sheriff”, he said.

“What?”, she shook her head, sure she didn’t understand his request.

“I said, ask me again”, Dean repeated, reaching for her face and lovingly caressing her cheek.

“Okay”, she took a deep breath. “Dean Winchester, do you wanna marry me?”

“I do, baby. I would love nothing more than to marry you”.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Later that day, after they left the chapel as husband and wife and went to celebrate over burgers and beers, Donna sent a few pictures to Jody. Some she kept only for herself and Dean, so they could look at them every once in a while and relive the memory of what happened in Vegas.

THE END

---------------------------------------

Taglist: @sexyvixen7 ; @candy-coated-misery0731; @dean-winchester-lover99; @thoughts-and-funnies; @avanatural; @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior; @eevvvaa; @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes; @djs8891; @akshi8278.

#dean x donna #dean winchester x donna hanscum #dean winchester fanfic #donna hanscum #dean winchester

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rumorsfromine · 2 years

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taylor swift packs !!! <3

#i am alive btw uni is just hard #taylor swift #taylor swift icon #taylor swift icons #taylor swift header #taylor swift headers #taylor swift pack #taylor swift packs #taylor swift layout #taylor swift layouts #lyric headers #1989 era #1989 era icons #betty #right where you left me #king of my heart

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afterglowedits · 3 years

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right where you left me headers

like/reblog if you save or © @katebridgs ღ

#taylor swift #taylor swift headers #headers taylor swift #evermore #evermore headers #evermore aesthetic #evermore lyrics headers #right where you left me #right where you left me headers #headers right where you left me #taylor swift right where you left me #taylor swift aesthetic #taylor swift aesthetic headers #taylor swift evermore #aesthetic headers #evermore era #with psd #headers with psd #rwylm

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editsfaerie · 2 years

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like or reblog if you save

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sherry-babyforme · 3 years

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#pride and prejudice #pride and prejudice icons #pride and prejudice headers #pride and prejudice gifs #taylor swift #taylor swift lyrics #right where you left me #evermore #keira knightley #Taylor swift icons #taylor swift headers #jack antanoff

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checkmateps · 3 years

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taylor swift headers, like or reblog if save/use please (c) jikooklt on twt

#taylor swift #headers #headers taylor swift #evermore #evermore headers #evermore lyrics #tolerate it #dorothea #no body no crime #tis the damn season #willow #long story short #happiness #right where you left me #taylor swift headers

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corneliaedits · 3 years

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taylor swift icons! like/rb… © swiftclosure ‹3

without psd HERE

#taylor swift #tswiftedit #taylor swift icons #taylor swift packs #taylor swift headers #evermore headers #lyrics headers #lyric headers #right where you left me #with psd #packs #icons #1989 era #icons taylor swift #candy swift

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headerstyle · 3 years

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reblog or like if you save / reblog ou like se salvar

#headers #headers lyrics #lyrics #taylor swift #taylor swift headers #twitter #taylor packs #taylor swift packs #taylor swift icons #black headers #gray header #taylor lyrics #evermore headers #evermore lyrics #evermore #evermore deluxe edition #its time to go #right where you left me #it's time to go

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suna-reversed · 3 years

Text

kiss me more

Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader

head empty, just soft dom! toji fucking his girl stupid in full nelson :)

minors dni!

the header is made by me, do not repost

a/n: here with another one of my shitty hub headers😀 this fic was solely inspired by the lyric “I feel like fucking something”, powered by @neeqzs and my thirst for this dilf😩

(warnings/tags): modern au, unprotected sex, oral (f.receiving), soft dom! toji, nipple play, bulge kink, daddy kink, squirting, creampie, full nelson, edging, overstimulation, orgasm denial, slight choking.

It’s 2:47 am on a Thursday when you feel the mattress shift, a small hiss accompanied by a “fuck” as something falls to the wooden floor with a thud.

There’s a guilt ridden expression on the face of the same man who’s known for his coldness and stoic demeanour amongst all.

“Is he strict?” “Doesn’t it get boring?” “Do you just stay for the money?”

It’s a string of questions you’ve heard a dozen times ever since you started dating the man who now stands in front of you, scratching the back of his head, upper body bare as he meekly stands there in nothing but a pair of sweatpants.

Your eyes still burn from the broken sleep as you lift yourself on your forearms, a small yawn escaping you as you try to get a peek over at what the giant of a man had knocked over.

“I needed a new alarm clock anyways.” You mumble groggily.

He chuckles before lifting the sheets, sliding in beside you as a tattooed arm reaches across the small of your waist to pull you into his warm chest.

“Didn’t mean to wake you up angel.” His nose is nuzzling against the top of your head as he murmurs a small “I missed you”.

All he’s met in response with is a light huff.

“What was that?”

There’s another huff, followed by a small nudge against his chest. Toji smiles to himself, slightly shaking his head before pulling away so that he can get a clear look at your face.

“What’s got you upset?”

You don’t respond, opting for a roll of your eyes instead.

“Oh?” He raises a brow, thoughtfully tapping a a finger against his chin,

“Is it because I woke you up?”

“...”

“-because of the alarm clock?”

“...”

“-because I came home late-“

“You know exactly what it is!” You whine, swatting at his chest as you attempt to roll over and away from him.

You’re halfway through doing so when you’re suddenly pulled back against his sturdy chest, the burly man easily settling you against the pillows on your back as he comes to lean above you.

“Toji!”

You gasp as his head dips into the crook of your neck, tongue licking up a stripe to the back of your ear as his other hand easily slips underneath the fabric of your shirt.

He pulls back, the wanton need in your eyes making his cock twitch as he fondles your breast, making quick work of your shirt as he pulls it off.

The sudden gust of cold air prickles your skin, contrasting with the hot mouth that comes around your nipple, sucking it with fervour as Toji’s hand pinches and twists the other.

The sleepiness in your body seems to be replaced with electrifying hunger and you wail out loud as he pulls away, only for him to shush you as he positions himself in between your legs, fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts.

“Let me make it up to you, okay?”

It’s not until he mentions it that you remember why you had been upset in the first place. Nonetheless, the sight of his chin resting against the apex of your stomach as he waits for your response and the ache in between your legs makes you mutter out your agreement.

It barely takes less than a moment for him to have you bare and dripping in front of his mouth, one of your legs propped over his shoulder as his thumb ghosted over your clit.

Toji’s still aware of the small pout that rests upon your lips, so he decides to not tease you any longer; licking a flat stripe against your wetness, tongue exploring your folds as his nose nudges against the small nub above. He hums against your heat as your hand comes to tug on his hair, his own instinctively reaching out, scrambling around the sheets till your other one comes to intertwine with it.

Lewd slurping sounds fill the room as he suctions the sensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth, two fingers coming to join his tongue as they easily slip inside of you. Your hips lift off the bed as you grind your cunt into his face, his fingers pumping in and out of you in a curling motion as he finds your sensitive spot, a tightness beginning to form in the pit of your stomach as his tongue continues its assault against your abused clit. Your thighs tighten around his head as you feel your release coming .

“fuck- ‘m gonna- gonna cum toji.”

Your back arches against the bed, the tension in your stomach about to snap just as he suddenly detaches his mouth from your cunt.

“No-” You cry as the waves of a half orgasm wash over you, an unsatisfying feeling crawling in your gut.

He’s panting as he regards your mewling form, glassy eyes filled with accusation as you glare at him.

“Fuck you, Toji.”

“That’s not my name, you know that doll.”

You groan in annoyance as he smirks.

“Oh? Want me to punish you more, do ya?”

There’s a smug look on his face as you shake your head in defeat, his hand reaching down to pull his hard member out of its constraints, letting it slap against his lower abs. You suck in a breath as he positions it in between your soppy folds, nudging your clit with his pre-cum covered tip.

“Please don’t tease, daddy.” You plead, jutting your bottom lip out.

“What do you want baby?”

There’s heat crawling up your face even as you lay bare and soaking in front of him, muttering out the words in a small voice as you hope he feels lenient enough to let you off the hook this once.

“What was that now?”

“Ah!”

The swift impact of the slap that comes against your cunt has you flinching in surprise.

“Need you to fuck me daddy- want you to fill me up with your cum, please-”

“There you go-” He groans at your words, the restraint snapping inside him as he slides a hand up your body to firmly grip your throat, “good girl”

You’re sure he’ll finally fill you up now, instead you’re left baffled once more as he slides his arms under you, rolling you over so that he’s on his back, reclining against the pillows with you on top of him.

“I wanna try something new, that okay doll?”

His mouth is right next to your ear as he speaks, hot breath against the side of your face as you nod.

“Turn over.” He’s lightly tapping your hip to usher you off him and turn around so that your back is pressed to his chest, cock placed right below your ass.

You’re such a pliant little thing for him, Toji feels a small burst of pride bloom in his chest as he regards how obediently you follow and listen, even though it was him who had supposedly been “making it up” to you.

“Such a pretty little slut, all for me.” He murmurs against the back of your neck, pressing a kiss there as he lines himself up with your folds once more, making a shiver run down your spine as he enters into you at the new angle.

There’s a burn in between your legs from how his massive cock stretches out your walls as you try to take as much of him as possible, your juices dripping down the length of his cock and down onto his balls. Both of you groan in unison as he finally bottoms out, your head falling back against his chest, eyes clenched shut as you feel him twitch inside of you.

“C’mon, open your eyes doll, look here.” His voice is gruff as he brings your attention to his hand that’s pressing against your belly, the outline of his cock visible in the slightest from where he’s buried deep inside of you.

“Look at you taking daddy’s cock so well.” A broken cry escapes your overstimulated body as his fingers move to flick over the sensitive bundle of nerves below, “You deserve a reward, hmm?”

“Ah, daddy! What are you-”

You yelp as he suddenly moves, his cock rubbing against your insides as he slides his arms under your knees, bringing them up till they’re pressed as close to your chest as possible, your legs left to dange in the air as his muscled arms support your form.

At this new angle, you feel like his cock’s moved in so deep that you might just feel it in your throat soon. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he starts moving his hips, bliss taking over your mind as he deeply thrusts into you, making you whimper with each stroke of his thick cock.

You let your gaze fall to where you two meet, a clear view of his slick covered cock sliding in and out of you, a clear ring of white forming at the base of his shaft as he continues to rut into you like a feral animal.

“Fuck- daddy, ‘m gonna cum- please let me cum daddy!”

Your words turn into incoherent gibberish as you go on, pleading for him to not rip away another orgasm.

“Go ahead and cum doll, show daddy how good he’s making you feel.”

You can feel his thrusts getting sloppier as he pants his words out, his pace still relentless as he pounds into you, making your legs tremble from overstimulation as your release crashes against you, gushing around his cock with a loud cry as he continues to fuck you through your high.

You hear him hiss as you squirt around him, your cunt clenching as he fills you up with his seed, balls twitching as he keeps fucking into you till both your liquids have made a mess of your cunt, not stopping until you’re rapidly tapping at his forearm.

He carefully sets your numb legs back down before pulling himself out of you, your completely spent figure near close to passing out as you slump against him.

“You did so well.” He murmurs as he pushes out the hair plastered onto your forehead, your eyes fluttering closed with exhaustion as you give him a lazy smile.

You wake up to the scent of vanilla drifting past your nostrils, warm water swishing around you as you take in the candlelit bath. You’re placed in between Toji’s legs, head resting against his chest as he massages your shoulders.

“There you are.” He whispers as you gaze up at him from beneath your lashes, “How do you feel?”

You give him a small grin, mind still a little too hazy to form a coherent answer before you realise what exactly had led up to the events a few hours ago.

“Did you really forget?”

There’s a small pout settling across your lips once more, a furrow in your brows as you look up at him, only to feel slightly annoyed as he looks back at you dumbfounded.

“It’s nothing, forget it.” You sigh, fingers tracing random shapes onto his chest as you look away.

A hand comes to your jaw, lifting it towards him again as he looks back at you with a knowing smile.

His hand is sliding through yours, something cold being pressed into your skin. You lift up your hand, opening your fist to see what lays in the center of your palm.

It’s a gleaming silver ring adorned with a diamond, and on closer inspection, you realise it has yours and Toji’s initials on the inside of the band.

Toji’s head dips down from behind you to press a kiss against your shoulder and you can feel him smile against your skin as he whispers,

“Happy birthday doll.”

tags- @sukunababy @shoto-daddy @anyway-idc @halexhydra @sunshine-alice @mikiminacch @captainmads2092 @nakachuchu @jotazinha @p-each-y-day @deary-darling @tobidabio @sukuna5slut @instantnuma @duskamethyst @radishfern @silversatoru @gojos-mochi @sassyeahhhh @fandomwritrix @missallsundayyy @lazy10ieiri @tete027 @kakashisthickthighs @half-baked-biscuit @iwaizumini @bakugohoex @merirukxskxs @noritoshiikamo

#toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji smut #jjk x reader #jjk hcs #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jujutsu kaisen tw #toji x reader #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen drabble #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo smut

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branded-witha-j · 2 years

Text

If It Hadn't Been For Love - Part 1

• Pairing: dark!Lee Bodecker x reader •

• Word count: 2.8k •

• Warnings: implied dub/non-con, drugged reader, mention of death, mention/attempted murder, abuse of power •

• A/N: This is my first Lee Bodecker fic and it's a series I'm hoping to continue. It's loosely based off the lyrics from If It Hadn't Been For Love by The Steeldrivers. Please let me know what you think and comment, like, and reblog. Thank you! •

• 18+ only! •

• Header and dividers my own creation. •

It's four cold walls against your will, each one closing in more and more with every passing minute. You're left alone, no cellmate, no company, nothing but damp air and an incessant dripping you can't locate. It drips away the seconds, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, insanity licking at your mind until a single voice makes everything right.

"How could ya do that to my girl?" His voice is hoarse, drawled out with a growl. Your head comes up, face clearing, and you're on your feet, rushing to where the barred entrance separates you from the love of your life.

He takes a step back, left hand coming up with a stop motion, the other settling over his holstered pistol. It makes the smile on your face fall, tears brimming until the fine lashes can no longer dam them and they dart down your cheeks. You can see the anger on his face, a new kind, not the one you're used to when he would talk about her, how she didn't do nothing right but look pretty and burn his supper. This is raw anger just for you, deep and dark, making your heart pound until you feel it might burst from the agony.

The Sheriff glares at you openly, huffing out before reaching into his jacket to fish out a bottle of whiskey. It's half full, one gulp taking most of it down into his burning stomach. You watch him, hands wrapped around the bars as you send imploring looks in his direction. He has to know why you did it, that you did it for him. She was no good, not for the likes of Sheriff Lee Bodecker.

"Lee, please look at me." You speak for the first time, hoping he can hear the love that makes your chest ache. The bottle shatters against the bars, drenching you in cheap whiskey and bits of glass. You gasp back, beads of amber dripping down your face and into the front of your blood stained dress.

Keys jingle with tremoring hands, the Sheriff unlocking the cell and throwing the door wide open. It's just the two of you, the other cells empty, the nearby office dark for the night; he's the only one here this late. You back away from the door, your hand raising as his did, but unlike the Sheriff, you have no gun to reach for with the other.

He yanks you close, fingers digging into your skin until even his short nails leave marks. His touch is different, hard but not the way he loves to take you, not the way it would borderline hate and love. Your cheek meets the wall as he forces you around, a hand in your hair to anchor your head to the paint chipped cinderblock.

You hear his belt, stomach lurching in surprise, and it isn't until it's around your neck that you realize he's going to kill you, not fuck you. Leather tightens until it's unbearable, a pleading whimper falling from your lips before your breath is stolen with a violent pull. The cot in the corner creaks with the weight of you both, Lee's shiny shoes sinking into the bare mattress as he drags you with him.

The end of his belt slaps a pipe that extends the length of the cell. It's sturdy enough to take a hard tug as the notched leather makes it over, Lee's strong hands pulling as hard as they can to lift you from the floor. The pressure is enough to almost break your neck, the glossy belt sinking into your skin. Legs kick, gags of sound coming from your blue lips as you try to plead with the Sheriff, knowing before the words even leave your mouth that it's useless.

It hadn't always been this way. There was a time when you didn't even know Lee Bodecker, at least not personally. His campaign flyer and pin had made its way into your house, lying on that table by the door until the night you got to meet the real thing.

The pounding on the front door pulled you out of your sleep, the house dark and quiet. It took you several minutes to get your dressing gown on, slippers tucked under the bed while you slept keeping your toes warm as you shuffled out of the bedroom. There was a big window set in the door, a tall silhouette shown on the other side. A flip of the floral print curtain revealed your unexpected visitor, a Deputy with a hat perched upon his head.

You opened the door, you had no reason not to trust a police officer, but when it was all said and done, and the reason he was here known, you wished you hadn't. He introduced himself as Deputy Bodecker, the very man that was asking for your vote on the nearby flyer. You nodded, worry lacing your features as pleasantries concluded.

"Mrs. Harbor, I'm sorry to intrude on you so late." His voice was deep, gentle, but holding unmistakable authority. You nodded, looking past him to where his cruiser was parked against the curb, pulling the door open wider.

"Please come in, Deputy."

It wouldn't take long for the neighbors to notice and whatever he had to say didn't need to be overheard. You stepped aside, allowing him entrance into your home, and he took his hat off as he stooped to enter. You shut the door after him, motioning for him to step over to the nearby sitting room. He seemed reluctant, but a touch of your hand at his shirt covered elbow had him obliging you.

The love seat creaked as he sat down, his hat placed on the cushion next to him. Nervous and realizing you were still standing, you perched on a nearby upholstered chair, hands clasped at your knees. Lee eyed you for a moment, looking around at your home before whistling. "You got a lovely home."

You thanked him, receiving a nod as silence settled over the both of you, your nerves making you forget your manners. "Can I get you some coffee?"

The reason for his arrival hung in the air, your avoidance of it painfully obvious as you lurched to your feet and rushed for the kitchen. Lee remained unmoving, only getting up when he heard a dish breaking on the floor. He stopped by the kitchen entrance, watching as you crouched to gather up large, jagged pieces of a coffee cup. As you grabbed a small brush and dustpan, he stepped forward, taking them from you and crouching down to sweep up the mess. You remained frozen next to him, watching his broad shoulders as they flexed beneath his dark shirt.

You tensed as he stood, the Deputy entirely too close as his gaze trailed up your body to your wide eyes. He was so close you could smell his aftershave and something sweet on his breath like caramel. The moment was broken as he stepped around you to the nearby bin, dumping the broken pieces inside. When he turned back, you were at the counter, busy grinding coffee beans for the percolator.

Even as Deputy Bodecker cleared his throat, you ignored him, busying yourself until the only thing left was waiting for the water to boil. He had to say your name twice before you finally turned, teeth biting into your bottom lip. "It's James, isn't it? Somethin' happened to him?"

For a second, Lee didn't want to tell you yes, didn't want to deliver the news he had been sent to convey. The look in your eyes had him wanting to comfort you, but he knew it was wrong, even if your skin sure did look soft.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, ma'am, but your husband had an accident tonight. He didn't make it."

Your husband of only a month was dead. He was pulled into a machine and nothing much of him remained when they finally got it shut down. Bodecker told you none of this, leaving it up to the coroner to give that gruesome news. Instead, he tried his best to comfort you, placing you in a chair at the kitchen table, and pouring you a fresh cup of coffee.

The job had been new, bringing in good money that afforded you both this nice house after moving to town right after the nuptials. It wasn't Brewer Heights, but it was still nice enough, with a yard and a tree perfect for a swing. That would have been fine and dandy if you had a kid, but you hadn't had a chance to get that far, James a man that wasn't into anything more than missionary and scarce affection. You could count on one hand how many times he had made love to you or kissed you. Mostly he was serious and dry, motivated to work hard and provide for his new wife. And you were okay with that. But now what? How would you survive without a job or a husband?

All these thoughts filtered through your mind, the hot cup burning your fingers. You barely noticed and the Deputy was the one to take it from you before you hurt yourself.

"I'm real sorry for your loss." And that's what he left you with, telling you to call the station if you needed anything as you walked him to the door.

The coroner came the next day, an older balding man that always seemed to be sweating. He sat where the Deputy had the night prior, dabbing at his shiny face with a handkerchief. His news was just as awful, and then some, when compared to what Bodecker had said. You were told that almost nothing remained of your husband, that the faulty machinery had done a lot of damage and that there would be no body to bury, only what few pieces remained. The news was so gruesome that you simply stood up and went straight to your bedroom, leaving the sweaty man on the love seat. He eventually grew uncomfortable from your absence when you didn't return and left.

You didn't emerge from the room for days, not even when men from the mill showed up to discuss with you what happened. Instead, they left an envelope in the mailbox, along with all the other letters you had been neglecting, and left.

Neighbors showed up, some of the women leaving casseroles and desserts on the porch, strays eventually tearing into them. Almost a week went by when a call was made to the police station, a worried housewife expressing her concern. The dispatcher was told you hadn't been seen in days, no lights on at night, and they told the caller they'd send a Deputy out to do a check.

It was Bodecker. He heard it over the radio while patrolling the county, and he was quick to respond. Parking in the same spot by the curb, he climbed out of the cruiser, placed his hat, and marched up to the front door. Knocking proved fruitless, no answer even when he yelled out 'Sheriff's Department!' into the windows. Unable to get you to come to the front door, Lee moved around the property, peering into openings in the curtains as he continued to yell for you.

"Mrs. Harbor! It's Deputy Bodecker! Open the door!"

He almost made a complete circle around the house when he found the open window. Just a crack, almost appearing closed if you didn't pay attention. Wedging his fingers in the small space, he pushed up, giving himself enough room to climb through. He found himself in a spare bedroom with no sign of you. Making himself known again, he called out as he stepped into the hallway, heading for the kitchen. It, too, was empty, the coffee cup from that night still on the table where he placed it. The sitting room, den, and bathroom were also empty. It left a single door, probably leading into a master bedroom, and that's where the Deputy knocked.

"Hello? It's Deputy Bodecker, ma'am. You got a couple folks worried. Can you open the door?" There was no response, so he waited a few seconds before reaching for the knob, finding the door unlocked. Pushing it open, his eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness, a blanket thrown over the only window in the room to blot out any sunlight.

You were sleeping, a pill given to you months prior for insomnia affording you rest you couldn't find on your own. Despite what your neighbors thought, you had been eating, even showering, but always returning to your bed. Sleeping helped you forget, helped you put off the reality and loss.

Bodecker moved over to the bed, leaning down to turn on the nightstand lamp. It's soft light illuminated your peaceful face, blanket thrown back and leaving you in whatever silky thing you had bought on a whim for James. It was one of the many times you tried to get him to relax and open up. And until now, it had been collecting dust in the closet, your lack of laundry leaving you nothing to wear but the pink silk.

The Deputy couldn't stop himself from looking, eyes dropping to where your chest rose and fell. The outline of your nipples kept his attention, his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip. He wanted to touch you, looking over his shoulder as if someone might appear and catch him. When no one did, he reached out for you, fingers grazing up the silk at your stomach until they ghosted between your breasts.

You didn't stir, Lee's fingers tracing over to where your nipple was just barely outlined. It responded to his touch, contracting into a tight peak that he circled slowly. He couldn't deny his arousal, the way you were vulnerable below him. The power it gave him was intoxicating, something he found in his job, but with authority and force. He wanted those things now, but in a different way, a way that would involve you.

Since the night he came to deliver the news, Lee hadn't been able to stop thinking about you. The second the call came across the radio, he found his excuse to show up on your door step, never dreaming it would be like this. His utility belt creaked as he shifted, hand leaving your breast to reach down for the hem of your nightgown.

Carefully, he lifted it, revealing your panties underneath, the garment just as silky. He took in the way it clung to you, the outline of your cunt unmistakable. It made his mouth dry, tongue darting out to moisten his lips. Just a couple more inches and he could touch what lies beneath.

You stirred, shifting and moaning out as you began to wake. The pills always made you hazy for the first couple hours after taking them and you almost didn't trust your eyes when they finally opened.

"Deputy Bodecker?" Your voice was heavy with sleep, eyes hooded. Were you dreaming? Why would the Deputy be in your bedroom? It made no sense, so it had to be a dream. "I'm dreaming." It wasn't a question, just a statement to yourself mostly, eyes drifting closed again. You felt a chill and rolled over onto your stomach with a sigh, telling yourself you would just sleep for a little bit longer.

Lee watched as you stirred, saw him, and then convinced yourself it was all a dream. It made him smile, his dark intentions that bubbled under the surface threatening to come to a head. It wouldn't take much for him to do as he wished, your creamy skin inviting him even if your lips did not.

But not tonight.

You were special, unlike any woman he had ever met, and he wanted to take his time with you, pick you apart down to your bones. He would be back, nothing would keep him away at this point, and he slipped from your bedroom quietly, using the front door to leave. Emptying the letterbox, Lee placed the mail on the table by the door, a smile crossing his face at the sight of his own flyer.

Soon he would run this town, make it the way it needed and should be, and at the center of that he hoped would be you. Like a piece of caramel, a sweet and soft reward for being so good and hardworking.

The belt is cutting into your skin, dots appearing in front of your vision. Legs no longer kick, just weak shakes that do nothing. Just as you are on the brink of passing out, Lee releases you, panting as he stumbles off the cot. You gag and suck in air, hand coming up to your throat to tear the belt away. The slam of the door makes you look up, the blurry outline of the Sheriff looking down at you.

"I'm gonna make sure you rot in here."

And then he's gone, leaving you alone with nothing but four cold walls against your will.

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #dark!lee bodecker #sebastian stan #sheriff bodecker #sheriff bodecker x reader #dark!sheriff bodecker #deputy bodecker x reader #if it hadn't been for love #part 1

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seegoldendaylight · 3 years

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Taylor Swift lyric headers + right where you left me (requested by anonymous)

fifteen headers, 640x360px

click to load full size

please like and reblog if using or saving

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set mobile background to white or black for headers with dividers

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#tswiftedit #userelena #tusersilvia #usersar #taylor swift #taylorswiftedit #userlizzo #evermore #lyrics #lyric headers #header #my headers #mine

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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.

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