TMD; The Mighty Ducks; Preferences and Imagines

𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕚𝕖𝕤; 𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕟 ℙ𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕟

The sound of the front door shutting made Y/N look up from the couch. She heard heavy footsteps and then the lighter ones trailing behind. That mix was familiar — Dean and Blake.

But something was wrong.

Blake walked in first, his face pale and distant. His backpack hung off one shoulder, and his eyes stayed glued to the floor. He didn't say hi, didn't even look her way.

"Hey, sweetheart," Y/N said gently, sitting up straighter. "Everything okay?"

Blake gave a tiny shrug and mumbled, "Gonna go to my room."

Y/N's eyes flicked immediately to Dean. Blake disappeared down the hall, and the door closed behind him.

Dean stood there, jaw tight, hands clenched at his sides.

"Dean?" she asked carefully. "What happened?"

He stared at the door Blake had just walked through, breathing heavily through his nose like he was holding back steam. Then he turned toward the entryway and grabbed his keys off the counter.

Y/N stood up. "Where are you going?"

Dean stopped with one hand on the doorknob and turned his head just enough to say, "Either to get ice cream or commit a felony. I'll decide in the car."

Y/N blinked. "Dean—"

"She humiliated him, Y/N," he snapped, turning to face her fully now. "Mrs. Crawford. Again. Said something like, 'Some kids are meant to lead and some are meant to follow. Guess which one you are.' Right in front of the whole damn class."

Y/N's stomach dropped.

Dean continued, voice rising, "Then she told him he was 'emotionally sensitive' like that's a bad thing. Like it's a weakness. And our kid? He just sat there and took it because he's too damn respectful to talk back."

Y/N's hands moved to her hips as her mind raced. "Okay. Okay. Let's breathe. We're not doing felony. You're not getting arrested. Not today."

Dean gave her a look. "You sure?"

"No, but I'm trying to be the voice of reason here."

Dean's jaw was clenched so tight it looked like it might snap. "I'm not letting someone make him feel like that. Not again. He walked out of there like he'd been gutted."

Y/N swallowed hard. She walked over, putting her hand on his chest. "I know. I hate it too. But if you go storming in, we lose the chance to really fix this. We'll go through the right channels. Call the school. File a complaint. Meet with the principal."

Dean looked down at her, the fire still burning behind his eyes. "You're asking a lot."

"I know. But do it for Blake. He needs us smart right now, not arrested."

That cracked a little smile out of him. Just a little. "Fine. But I still want ice cream."

Y/N smiled. "That's a plan I can get behind."

Dean exhaled and set his keys down, then rubbed his hand over his face.

"I'll go talk to him," Y/N offered gently.

Dean stopped her. "Wait. Let me. I think... I think I need to."

Y/N nodded.

He walked slowly down the hallway, knocked gently, and pushed the door open. Blake was curled up on his bed, still in his hoodie, looking small — too small.

Dean sat down at the edge of the bed.

"I heard what happened," he said softly.

Blake didn't look up.

"I'm so sorry she said that to you, bud. That's not okay. That's not teaching."

Blake swallowed hard. "She's right, though."

"No," Dean said instantly, his voice low and steady. "She's not. You're a better kid than she'll probably ever understand. You've got more heart than most people I know. And I know some pretty good people."

Blake stayed quiet.

Dean reached over, resting a hand on his back. "You don't have to be loud or bossy to be a leader. You don't have to be what she thinks a kid should be. You just have to be you. And I'm proud of you. Always."

There was a long pause.

Then Blake asked quietly, "You really almost committed a felony?"

Dean chuckled. "Honestly? Came close. But your mom talked me down. Barely."

Blake cracked a small smile.

"You wanna go get ice cream?" Dean asked.

Blake finally looked at him. "Yeah."

Dean stood, then reached a hand out. Blake took it.

As they walked back toward the living room, Y/N was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. "So? Ice cream?"

Dean grinned. "Definitely ice cream."

Y/N gave a look. "And no felonies?"

Dean kissed her on the cheek. "No promises."