Wrong Place, Wrong Time || Wesley Crusher x Reader

𝕊𝕚𝕩

Y/n's pov

*The next morning*

I was woken up by a hand rubbing my shoulder.

I saw my mom standing there and I smiled.

"Good morning y/n, how was your rest?" She asked and I smiled.

"Has it been a week yet? Do I get to work now?" I asked with a slight smirk on my face.

She smiled "You must be pretty excited to start working, and no, it hasn't been a week."

I pouted, then I smiled.

"I made breakfast, come eat." She smiled widely.

"Okay, I need to get changed first." I said and got up.

She nodded and walked out.

I took off my pajamas and I grabbed my favorite turquoise, pink, and purple ankle-length dress and I put it on.

(Here's what your dress looks like)

(Looks cool right? I took three separate dresses, traced them and put them together, and then I colored it)

I put my hair up in a bun and then I walked out of my room.

My mom turned around in her chair and she raised her eyebrows and said "Well that was quick."

I giggled and I sat down at the table.

"You look beautiful y/n, I love that dress." She said to me as she handed me a plate of breakfast. (Breakfast can be whatever you want)

"Thank you, me too ." I smiled.

"You're welcome."

"Did you pick that out?" She asked and I nodded.

"These are my three favorite colors." I smiled.

"What's your favorite part about it?" She asked.

"Uh, this part." I said and I grabbed and played with the piece of fabric that came down over my chest.

She smiled.

"I love that part too."

"Thank you." I smiled.

After we were done eating she had to go to the bridge and then I was alone.

After a while, I started to feel lonely, and then I remembered that Wesley had the day off to do homework, so I went to Wesley's quarters to talk to him.

I rang the little doorbell and then I heard "Come in."

The door opened and I saw Wesley doing some sort of experiment, an experiment that looked familiar.

"What experiment are you doing?" I asked him and then he looked at me and smiled.

"Hi y/n, I'm experimenting on microorganisms." He looked into the microscope.

"Which teacher?" I asked as I walked a bit closer.

"Mr. Markson, Why?" He asked.

I smiled "Don't forget that he's a perfectionist, he wants everything to be perfect, do everything right, and you'll get an A." I grabbed something off his desk and I looked at it.

He looked at me and my lips curled when we made eye contact.

"What's the right way?" He asked.

"Do your very best, don't just write down random things, then it wouldn't make sense. Mr. Markson understands that some teenagers might get bored of doing experiments quickly," I pointed to myself "So he will let you do whatever you want to keep you focused."

"You got bored of experiments?"

I nodded.

He smiled as he said "Why? They're so fun."

I giggled slightly "You and I have a different definition of fun."

He smiled as he thought about yesterday, why I changed the subject so suddenly.

"Why did you change the subject like that yesterday?" He asked.

I smiled weakly.

"I don't like talking about my past."

He thought "Why?"

"I heard that, I don't like talking about my past because so many wrong things happened." I said, my voice going quiet, as I looked away.

"Well you can trust me, I won't tell anyone."

I looked at him and I said "Well, you have an experiment to be doing, I wouldn't want to bother you."

He smiled softly.

"I can put it away for a minute, I'm really curious."

"Well, I was compared when I was 10 years old, they said 'She's not as smart as the other kids.' and that made me feel terrible so I pushed myself, but I quickly learned that I love to learn so it didn't feel like I was pushing myself anymore."

"What was the Academy like?"

"Horrible." I said putting the thing down.

"Why's that?"

I sighed softly.

"I was getting bullied, everyone was mean to me, and I mean everyone, not the teachers, but every student there called me bubonic, no one wanted to be around me." I thought.

"I hit a slump at the beginning of my third year, backed up on so many assignments, and that caused a lot of stress, and I break down if I have too much stress on my shoulders, so I broke down and it didn't help when I became depressed."

He nodded "Doesn't it feel better when you talk about things and get them off your shoulders?"

I smiled softly "A little."

I scoffed softly "We just met yesterday and I'm telling you my past, how fun, you knowing my trauma."

"But you don't talk about things, you keep them bottled up, why don't you tell me something?"

"It's crazy how much you sound like your mom." He said and smiled widely.

I started laughing, but I covered my mouth to stop myself from going overboard.

"Well I mean, my mom is a counselor, and I grew up with her, and all of her tricks." I said playfully.

He smiled and said "Why would I need to tell you anyway? You can read minds."

"Not all the time, I'm not reading your mind right now."

He smiled "I don't mean to be rude but I highly doubt that."

I giggled.

"I'm not, I promise."