21yo | ace femme | they/she Just here to read and reblog content of my favs. but I have an art account if you wanna see sevika art [twt & ig: @ALICEP1INK]
The low light of Sevika’s apartment flickers across her scarred skin as she leans back against the worn couch. Her mechanical arm rests heavy on your hip while her flesh hand grips your thigh, holding you down.
You are straddling her lap, thighs spread wide, her thick strap buried inside you. The stretch is delicious and overwhelming. Every tiny shift makes you clench around the fat silicone cock, but Sevika keeps you pinned still.
“Stay right there,” she murmurs, voice low and smoky. She takes a slow drag from her cigar, eyes half-lidded as she watches you. “Just sit still for me.”
You whimper softly, trying not to rock your hips. The fullness has you dripping down her strap, slick coating her thighs.
Sevika’s mechanical fingers trace lazy circles on your skin, the cool metal a sharp contrast to how hot and full you feel.
“Look at you,” she says with a dark smirk, squeezing your ass. “Sitting so pretty on my cock. Clenching like you want me to fuck you stupid.”
You bite your lip, breathing shaky. The urge to move is torture. Sevika leans in, lips brushing your ear as she gives one small, teasing thrust upward.
“Not yet,” she whispers, voice rough. “You are going to sit on it until I say otherwise.” she chuckles softly. “Let that pretty pussy throb around every inch.”
She leans back again, cigar between her fingers, looking far too pleased with herself as she watches you.
── ♡ synopsis: you’re tired but your wife is super loving.
Ambessa was the softest woman when she wanted to be and you knew that. When the door had closed with a heavy thud behind you, you hadn’t expected to see the warlord sitting there at the edge of the bed facing the door as if she’d been waiting for you.
The exhausted expression your face wore was enough news for her. She extended one arm, then curled her fingers in a “come here” motion.
Wordlessly.
You didn’t need telling twice. You crossed the massive length of the bedroom and collapsed there at her feet with your knees on the floor and head buried in her lap as if you were trying to disappear. Her thick legs weren’t uncomfortable, they were soft considering how much muscle there was in her body.
“I miss you.”
“I missed you too, dear.”
You felt her fingers gently playing with your hair, slow at first as if she was asking for permission. You didn’t move.
That told her enough.
She scratched your scalp gently, the feeling was soothing. Your eyes closed, your eyelids stung with sleep. You wanted nothing more than to have a full meal and cuddle in bed with her for the rest of eternity.
But to be realistic, what you needed right now was a bath.
You felt Ambessa’s big hands wrapping around your sides as she helped you up and sat you down on her lap, sideways, so your legs dangled on her side.
“Oh, how do you keep overworking yourself, my sweet girl?” She asked, voice soft and a little reprimanding as she ran her fingers through your hair.
“I dunno…”
You buried your face in her neck, her warm skin making you want to cling onto her and savour her presence forever.
“Stay with me for a while, then you can bathe.”
“Won’t you bathe with me?”
Ambessa chuckled, and although she had already taken a bath for the day, she replied— “of course, my princess.”
Sevika and sweet, sweet body worship for fem!reader🩷🩷
♡ · HOLD & WORSHIP 𓏻 ✦ drabble
body worship , strap , kissing . discord server.
Sevika’s strap was so deep inside you could feel it bullying your cervix every time she shifted even just a little bit. Your mouth was open, soft moans and whines spilling out as your nails dug into her back and shoulders.
“You look so fuckin’ pretty like this, you make me wanna stuff you full all the time,” Sevika whispered, kissing the column of your throat, peppering hickeys all over your collarbones and chest. “That’s my good girl… fuck.”
You shivered, “you’re too much…” your cheeks were red as you kept getting more and more embarrassed with every other praise that came out of Sevika’s mouth.
Her voice was gentle, very unlike how she usually spoke with others, it was gentle and full of love when she spoke to you and made love to you. You gasped, the strap slipped in deeper.
“You’re my pretty girl.” she cupped your face with her flesh hand, “and I’m gonna marry you soon.”
miguel o'hara noticing that u really really like his big strong arms pls 🙏
i request
— MIGUEL O'HARA AND HIS ARMS !
pairing : miguel x reader !
a/n : anything for u dumpling!!!! thank you very much for requesting, also i jsut aced in my val game please be proud. p.s guys the reader doesnt know bro is spider-man lmao what a dumbass
It was early in the morning, and you were fatigued. Too exhausted to drive yourself to work, your boyfriend, Miguel, had offered to give you a ride.
You happily accepted.
You yawned, pressing the back of your head into the headrest of the passenger seat as your eyes slowly began to close. Miguel glanced over to you, then let out a chuckle at the sight.
"What time did you sleep?"
Opening your eyes, you were met with a very clear view of your boyfriend's arms.
You knew that he was jacked, for sure, but you marveled at the way his black compression shirt hugged his toned muscles, making them stand out even more than usual. Ignoring the extremely heavy weight on your eyelids, you couldn't keep your eyes off his biceps.
"You gonna answer me or keep staring at my arms?"
This snapped you out of your daze, causing you to blink twice before adjusting your posture. You averted your eyes to anywhere else but him as you felt the heat rising to your face.
"Yeah, ha... like 4, maybe?" You were too embarrassed to actually try to remember what time you finally passed out, but you knew it was late at night.
You didn't notice, but he was getting a kick out of seeing you like this, all flustered over just his arms. The smirk on his face was already formed thirty seconds ago, and he couldn't wipe off the smug that came with it.
"We're here. Don't get out yet though, I'm parking." He had a certain tone to his voice, like he was planning something. You shook your head, not wanting to be the reason he was late for his job, whatever it was.
"Ah, it's okay, I can just-"
You were distracted from the sudden movement of his hand moving from the gear shift, his arm reaching around the shoulders of your seat. He turned to get an accurate view of the rear window, reversing the car. One hand stayed on the wheel, and you swore right then and there that he looked ten times hotter while driving.
The arm you were staring at moments ago was now right in front of you, giving you a perfectly good look at the high definition of his muscles. It seemed that they were flexed this time, but you had no complaints.
Unbeknownst to you, he knew exactly what he was doing. He loved when you showed attraction towards him, and he loved embarrassing you about it even more.
He finally parked the car before looking at you, a small smile appearing when he saw that you were still in a trance with his arm.
He unbuckled his seatbelt and pulled you close to him, embracing you in his arm, looking down at you to see your flushed cheeks. "I'll see you later, hermosa." He kissed your forehead, and you felt your stomach doing flips.
You then gasped in realization, glancing at the time. "I'm gonna be late!" Frantically scurrying to gather your things, you thanked him for the ride before opening the door and hopping out.
"I'll pick you up later?" He raised his eyebrows.
"Sounds good!" You nodded as you gave him one last wave, rushing past everybody near the building in fear of your boss giving you a hard time today.
On the way to your office, you smiled to yourself. You couldn't wait to come home and be engulfed in his strong arms, where you were safe from the world.
Meanwhile, Miguel's head was clouded as he watched you enter the building safely, thinking of all the ways he could get you to blush from his arms again, when really, all it takes is a simple hug.
Tldr: Sev wears her strap casually, you don’t know what that is but she shows you
A/n: im impatiently waiting for more The Vampire Lestat episodes, also reading the book, also also got back into Date Everything a lil bit
Sevika was wearing that cropped shirt of hers again. Something is at her hips, you squint. Now, it is a bit odd on your part to be gawking at the most-powerful-woman-in-Zaun’s hips in the club a fair bit like a pervert but you’re just so… drawn in. There’s nothing perverse in curiosity, is there? Still side-eyeing her hips.
After a good bit of peeking, your eyes meet. Immediately you avert your gaze, trying to be nonchalant but you actually look like a dog that got caught tearing up the couch. Sev doesn’t question it, honestly with how strong your gaze was she thought something spilled on her pants. She goes on about her night though; playing cards, drinking, smoking, club stuff. You’re glad you weren’t caught, thank goodness. But you keep on peeking.
You know how that quote goes though; curiosity killed the cat.
“Why do you keep on starin’?” A voice comes from behind you. That could literally be only one person. Sevika is behind you, bourbon in glass, in hand. You’re beyond embarrassed, finally caught; you’d make one shitty criminal with how obvious you are.
“What… what do you got on?” You finally ask, eluding to the cloth that comes from under her pants around her hips. The two of you look down, then back up at each other. “Wanna find out?” Huh. “Sure.” You chirp.
Well, my, my, my. You’re bent over her desk, getting your back blown out. Whining and writhing, her hips meeting the back of you making the loud, known sound of skin against skin. She prepped you before hand, using lube and all, very thoughtful and thorough. And now here you are; getting fucked dumb by the big mama herself.
“Jesus- S-Sev-, oh my god-“ face pressed against the desk, squelching being heard from below but you’re too pleasured to care about how stupid wet you are. With a thump, your forehead is against the desk, your legs feeling like they’re gonna give before Sevika holds you up. “Yeah? You like it?” Nipping your ear, and a bit at your neck. “I’m practically splitting you in half, pretty girl.” She teased, hand coming down to feel your slick slide down your thighs. “Needed me that bad?” Still fucking into you evenly.
You nod weakly, arching into her grasp like a dog seeking petting. “F-ffuck- nghhhhnnm-“ clenching your thighs, feeling the heat coil in your stomach. “Don’t stop- please- don’t stop!” You moan out, not caring who could hear. The club music was booming; maybe no one could hear you two after all. “Wasn’t planning on it, baby doll.” She spoke, continuing to milk the pleasure from you, tip brushing right against your sweet spot. You let out a cry, sobs leaving you as she abuses that spot. Leaving you quivering and sensitive after your strong orgasm.
She pulls out, scooping you up and sitting you on her lap while she relaxes in the desk chair. Soothing those nerves, stroking your thighs and letting you come down from it all.
will apologise in fights even if she's not at fault because she can't sleep without cuddles anymore, she gets nightmares 🙁
likes being held but will never say it out loud
adores how you look draped in her poncho
EVEN MORE CUDDLES
carries you from the couch to the bedroom after you fall asleep on movie nights
massages your feet
will exchange shoes with you if your heels hurt your feet
tries to get you to workout with her because in her nightmares you're always getting attacked by goons and you're defenseless
gets you flowers, but the bouquet is always messy because she doesn't know which ones to get you
if you get a minor splinter, she'll put you in a cast
insecure about the ring she proposed with because she didn't have much when she did, and now that she's councillor she wants to give you everything in the world
Can you make a fic about teenage reader and sevika (or young lovers) doing the Chapstick challenge?🥹 like if the reader put on a flavoured Chapstick Sevika would have to guess which one it is or the other way around !!
I love love love your work so much💗‼️
-🫀

Thank you so much! 🩷✨🫶🏻
(Y’all I’m so bad at dialogue, I’m trying to write more lately but damn I’m cringing)
Sevika x Reader - One More Game
Summary: A harmless Chapstick guessing game between young lovers quickly turns into Sevika finding excuses to kiss you far more times than necessary.
The challenge started because you were bored.
Which, according to Sevika, was always dangerous.
“You realise normal people just play cards when they’re bored?” she asked, sprawled across your bed.
You sat cross-legged opposite her, holding up a handful of flavoured Chapsticks you’d dug out from your drawer.
“Cards are boring.”
“They are not.”
“They absolutely are.”
Sevika snorted.
You grinned.
“Come on. It’ll be fun.”
She eyed the collection suspiciously.
“What exactly am I agreeing to?”
“You put on a flavour. I kiss you and have to guess what it is.”
The second the words left your mouth, Sevika froze.
Then a slow grin spread across her face.
“That’s the game?”
“Yes.”
“Just making sure I heard correctly.”
Your face immediately warmed.
“Sevika-.”
“I’m in.”
“Of course you are.”
-
The first round was surprisingly difficult.
Sevika applied one while you looked away.
“Ready.”
You turned back around.
She was trying and failing to hide a smirk.
“You look way too pleased with yourself.”
“Guess.”
You leaned forward.
The kiss was quick.
Barely a second.
Still enough to make your stomach do embarrassing things.
You sat back.
“…Strawberry?”
“Nope.”
“Cherry?”
“Nope.”
“Hold on.”
You leaned in again and stole another quick kiss, trying to place the flavour.
“Raspberry?”
“Nope.”
“You have got to be kidding.”
Sevika burst out laughing.
“It was watermelon.”
“Watermelon? That tasted nothing like watermelon.”
“Sounds like a skill issue.”
You threw a pillow at her.
-
Your turn went much better.
Or so you thought.
You carefully applied vanilla.
A safe option.
An obvious option.
Sevika leaned in confidently.
The kiss lingered slightly longer than necessary.
You pretended not to notice.
She sat back.
“Easy. Cherry.”
“What?”
“Cherry.”
“It’s vanilla!”
Sevika blinked.
“No way.”
“It literally is.”
She grabbed the tube.
Read the label.
Stared.
“…Okay.”
You immediately started laughing.
“How did you get cherry from vanilla?”
“I don’t know!”
“You were so confident.”
“Shut up.”
-
By round six neither of you were taking the challenge seriously anymore.
“Orange.”
“No.”
“Mango.”
“No.”
“Passion fruit.”
“No.”
Sevika frowned.
“Kiss me again.”
“What?”
“Scientific purposes.”
You nearly choked.
“That’s not how science works.”
“It is now.”
You rolled your eyes but leaned forward anyway.
The second kiss was longer.
The third even more so.
By the fourth attempt you were struggling not to laugh.
Sevika sat back thoughtfully.
“Definitely peach.”
“There it is.”
“I knew it the whole time.”
“You absolutely did not.”
-
Eventually you noticed something.
“Wait.”
“Hm?”
“You keep getting them wrong.”
“So?”
“You’ve guessed wrong like ten times in a row.”
Sevika shrugged.
“Maybe I’m bad at this.”
You narrowed your eyes.
“Sevika.”
“What?”
“Oh my god.”
The grin she gave you confirmed everything.
“You’ve been doing it on purpose!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You absolutely have.”
She laughed.
You shoved her shoulder.
“You cheater.”
“Worth it.”
Your face immediately heated up.
Sevika looked entirely too pleased about that.
-
The game ended with both of you collapsed against your pillows, surrounded by Chapsticks and half-finished guesses.
You’d long since stopped keeping score.
Neither of you could remember who was technically winning.
Not that it mattered.
Somewhere along the way, the challenge had stopped being about identifying flavours.
The Chapsticks sat forgotten across the blankets, neither of you making any effort to pick them back up.
The room had fallen into a comfortable quiet, broken only by occasional laughter and the rustle of sheets whenever one of you shifted closer.
You turned a Chapstick tube between your fingers before dropping it onto the bed beside you.
“So… what flavour was that last one supposed to be?”
Sevika glanced over.
“No idea.”
You stared at her.
“You don’t remember?”
A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth.
“Nope.”
A laugh escaped you.
The challenge had been your idea, but somewhere between the first few guesses and far too many stolen kisses, both of you had completely forgotten about it.
Honestly, neither of you seemed particularly bothered by that.
Especially when Sevika reached over, lacing her fingers through yours and pulling you a little closer.
I LOVELOVELOVEEEEEDDDD UR MECHANIC SEVIKA X BOTHERSOME READERRR
if possible woukd you perhaps consider writing some smut for it? It’s totally up to you, and if you don’t want to it’s totally fine and you can ignore this, but if you do this is my basic idea
Sevika is working under the car in her garage, Mabye before her workshop opens and we somehow sneak in (we stole a copy of her keys definitely) and start like talking to sevika or something idk man Im making this up as I go and basically while she’s under the car we pull her pants n boxers down and like start eating her out while she’s like squirming yk?? Basically sub sevika and kinda dom reader?? (
(This is such a bad idea you can totally ignore it, Im so sorry 😓😓😓😓)
— 😽
Authors note ₊˚⊹ ᢉ𐭩: First of all, angel: I would never ignore anyone’s requests. Let alone yours :( SECONDLY, you absolutely read my mind bc I thought of writing this the immediate time I published the first part. You little genius.
Despite Mechanic!Sevika having remarkably strict rules for clients that acted like temper-bait, she gave all the liberty to you. Her special girl. An impatient one at that.
You waltz in her shop as your footsteps motioned on cold concrete that they seemed to recognize.
You spotted the same, scuffed up combat boots under a red Ford.
Bingo.
Sevika’s ears immediately perked up, screwing her work in with a wrench. She struggled to speak with a rag to accompany her sweat, currently crumpled in her mouth.
“That you, doll?”
“Mmm. No.”
A stifled chuckle could be heard from below. She spat her rag to her side.
“Liar. You’re wearing the same shoes from yesterday.”
You knelt down, tilting your head to watch her hands work. You smiled big.
“I could be anyone.”
“Yeah? I can hear the difference too. Like a damn horse trottin’ in my shop.”
You frowned before unbuckling her belt.
“W-wha—what are you doing?”
Before Sevika could even look down, she felt an immediate contrast of the cold night air teasing her legs. You slid her boxers down before latching your mouth on her pulsating clit. Her bush teased your nose, dripped in her own wetness that had only formed once you came into the shop.
“J-jesus fuck. Angel wait—“
Muffled moans reached your ears.
She couldn’t wriggle even if she wanted. It was already difficult to move beneath her cars, but having you eat her whole had her body rigid.
“S-so f-fucking impatient.” Grumbled from her mouth before her hand gripped into your head of hair.
“Keep complaining and I’ll stop.”
Silence came on her end before she muttered
“Whatever.” As if her face wasn’t plush of red with her doll stuck between her thighs.
Your teasing tongue licked her up to her happy trail.
“You love me.”
“I—“
She choked. Her ego became smaller by the day with you around.
“I don’t. You’re a cruel girl.”
You lapped at her while she struggled to even pick her wrench back up. Every time she put a tool down, you stopped abruptly. She’d quietly whine for you to continue.
“Please.”
“What’d you say?”
“Sweet Janna, please!”
“Better.”
₊˚⊹ ᢉ𐭩:*
From that day forward, her breaks included her dialing your number, whether you were busy or not. She didn’t need to argue for your head to be in between her thighs. You were her favorite helper, after all.
LOVED your piercer!Sevika and come with an idea of : dykes on bikes sevika for pride month!!!!
biker!sevika 🤤🤤🤤
Authors note₊˚⊹ ᢉ𐭩: Happy pride, pretty! I’m delighted to start off pride with this idea. I love you all lots, and I’m so appreciative of the support on this page from all my queer daisies🫀
Warnings: harassment, flirting, just fluffy gunk.
Parades n’ Prowlers
It wasn’t your first rodeo, but it was for your new best friend of officially one year. She was a baby gay as of recent. What other way to celebrate when the new season crashes with waves of new opportunity and color?
“C’mon! You don’t even do anything on Fridays.”
“I..I don’t know.”
You gave the pout special that almost everybody fell for. A 92..93% chance of winning someone over.
“Pleaseeee, oh please! I don’t want us to celebrate with some..I dunno. Some cake with a half-assed rainbow. There’s literally a whole crowd of supporters!”
“Okay—“
“You’d be missing out if you didn’t!”
“Fine! Oh my god, fine. Fine.” The seriousness in her tone was easily replaced by effortless laughter.
You offered up an old crop top you wore a few parades back with a flat printout of a scissor. Straight forward and self explanatory, but it looked cute on her.
₊˚⊹ ᢉ𐭩
“Fuck. I don’t know. Does this top look stupid on me? I don’t know if jeans is too simple to be out there.”
“Baby, we’re already in the crowd. S’a little too late to ask me that.
She frowned. You took the hint and stammered for your words back.
Besides! You look stunning. A fem would totally ask you out.”
“You love bullshitting me.”
“You’re such a party pooper. You look great, point blank.”
You felt confident in your outfit. Maybe it was the color scheme? Or maybe, it was the numerous girls complimenting you back to back.
The best thing about being in a queer dominant field was the community.
The worst was having hagglers stuck in your business, the feeling of conspicuous caramel gripping in between your teeth being an inseparable similarity.
Alongside the parade swaying down came protestors with sigh worthy signs.
It only did get on your nerves once an older man stopped down onto the street, your side of the street with a megaphone and bible in hand.
It rang in your ear like crazy.
“Lead not into temptation, child. You could be of greatness, yet you align yourself with nothing but sin.”
You whined.
“Holy fuck, could you be any louder?!”
“I’m not loud unless I need to be. And in this state, I advise you all turn to greatness before you’re damned in hell.”
Your peripheral vision showed a shaken up best friend, already tucking her fan away.
No. He was not ruining your friend’s first pride. Or your ear range.
Just as you were ready to turn and confront him, you heard a bike rumble and cut the distance between you two.
Tall. Buff. Wife pleaser with unevenly sewed patches. Unforgettable musk. The helmet didn’t come off just yet as a muffled voice growled dominance in the heat.
“Fuck off. Ain’t your business of who’s goin’ to hell or not. You’re bothering the girl for no reason.”
The confrontation was thankfully enough for him to temporarily stray from his megaphone.
“I absolutely have reason! She is clearly stumbling into sin. You all are.”
“Yeah! Is that your life to dictate? I don’t think so.”
“It’s not mine, but the gods created each of these..filthy—“
“You finish that sentence and you’ll find yourself at the gates of hell in the next two minutes.”
She towered over him. It was quite unfair if a quarrel ever occurred. The man stumbled over his words before cursing under his breath and walking towards the other protestors.
You turned your head up to what you thought could be heaven.
The woman took the helmet off, a swaying choppy bob and a shaven undercut was released into the cool breeze.
Stone gray eyes darted down to you.
You?
“Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. You ladies all good?”
Your friend immediately nudged you for a phrase. Something. Anything for you to get out your trance.
“A-ah. Uhm. Yes. Thank-thank you.”
She took the hint, smirking down at your friend before you.
“Names Sevika. Am I allowed to get yours or…will that be occupied?”
A pink daze blurred your face.
“‘You askin’ if I’m single?”
“Yes, angel. I am. Smart girl.”
You smile, poking your friend to give you a minute to yourself. As much as you babied her throughout the parade, you secretly knew she got the hang of it and was clearly talking to others beside her.
“I am.”
The woman clicked her tongue, smiling to the crowd afar. It made her labret much more visible before she turned back to you.
“You wouldn’t mind if I gave you a little shortcut up the line then..right?”
“Goodness. And feel a better breeze?”
You teasingly asked while clearly checking out your view.
“I’d love that.”
“Hop on f’me, angel.”
You didn’t hesitate to hold her waist while propping yourself up. She felt so warm. It didn’t help that you were under a sweltering sun and horrible nerves. Sevika secretly adored it.
“Hold tighter. Don’t want ya slippin’.”
You held as tight as you could as her bike roared on the side of the street. You rested your head on her back, yelling up at her.
“I was too—ah! I was too nervous to say how beautiful you looked up there.”
“What’d ya say, beautiful?!”
“U-uh! Nothing!”
Sevika silently chuckled underneath her helmet. She absolutely heard you. She just wanted to hear you stammer again.
The evening was a gift that kept giving: a friend that officially went to her first pride, protestors being a bit silent for the first time, and digits from probably the hottest biker you’ve ever laid eyes on.
Summary: Being a father is not easy, and even less so when he is single. This is Miguel O'Hara's life, who has raised his daughter Gabriella alone after her mother's abandonment. Everything has been extremely difficult and challenging, especially now that they have to start over in a new neighborhood. Miguel barely has time for anything else besides his daughter and his job… everything changes a bit when he meets his daughter's teacher: you.
CW: different POV, distress, mild angst, not use of Y/N, only last name, Miguel being sweet with Gabi, kinda OOC (Let me know if I forgot something, pls)
Divider by: @cinemabeans
A/N: Hello there! It's been a long, long time since the last time I was there 🥲 I've been through a lot of things, and I was drained of... well, everything HAHA! First of all, thank you to all of you that you kept giving likes or reposting :') today, the third chapter is ready and I really hope to be more frequent from now on :'D Take care and I'll see you next time!
And before to proceed, I have to express my gratitude to @miss-tarja, who has been helping me all this time to get this chapter done—it was incredibly difficult for me to write. And yet, she was there, being very patient and offering me encouragement and advice <3
5:25 am...
He was dreaming... dreaming of something sweet.
No, it wasn’t a dream…
Miguel opened his eyes abruptly when he caught a faint smell of something burning. As he had a spring in his butt, Miguel jumped out of bed and rushed downstairs —without even putting on his slippers— where he saw the kitchen light on… and Gabriella standing on a stool before the stove and with her back to him.
“Gabriella?”
The little girl flinched at the sudden sound of her father’s voice. When she turned around, Miguel couldn’t help but smile tenderly at the sight: her face dusted with flour, wearing a flower-embroidered apron, and her hair tied in a messy ponytail.
“Hola, papito…”
Miguel shook his head softly with a smile and walked over until he stood behind her.
“Care to explain what you're doing?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Well… I wanted to make pancakes for Emily, so we can stay friends, but…”
She glanced beside her, where a plate of oddly shaped pancakes sat —some undercooked, others completely burnt.
Miguel let out a small chuckle and gently stroked her head.
“Why didn’t you wake me up? You could’ve burned yourself, sweetheart…”
Gabriella sighed and nodded. Her cheeks were red from the heat of the kitchen… and a little from embarrassment.
“I didn’t want to bother you… I know you’re really busy, and I didn’t want to be a bother…”
Miguel’s heart sank at her words. The last thing he wanted was for his little girl to think she was a burden. On the contrary, he always wanted to be there for her.
“Gabi, you will never be a bother to me. Yes, I have a lot of work and I get home tired, but I’ll always have energy for you. And what you’re doing is a beautiful gesture,” he said, smiling warmly.
His little girl was growing up so fast.
She smiled brightly, showing all her teeth.
“Gracias, papito…”
Miguel sighed as he looked around the kitchen: dirty bowls, eggshells, flour on the counters…
“How about you go take a shower while I give you a hand in here?”
The little girl gasped and looked up at her father with her big brown eyes, full of hope.
“Really?” she asked, her voice bubbling with excitement, eyes sparkling with joy.
“Of course. Now go get ready for school. You have to make a good impression today, especially after what happened yesterday, señorita,” Miguel said, his tone a mix of seriousness and teasing.
Gabriella puffed out her cheeks in mock protest, but quickly dashed out of the kitchen, leaving behind her apron… and the culinary chaos.
Still, he shook his head with a small chuckle. Though yesterday’s incident was still fresh in his mind, it made him genuinely happy to see her so eager to start a new day at school. Gabriella was truly a wonderful girl… and that other little one, the one with the braids and slightly sad eyes, seemed just as special.
With a sigh, he started preparing a fresh batter of pancake mix.
“Now… do they prefer blueberries or chocolate chips?”
In contrast to the cheerful– albeit early– atmosphere at Miguel’s place, on the other side of town, an alarm shattered the silence inside a modest apartment. Your eyes flew open at the sound of your phone’s abrupt, jarring ring. It was already 5:30 am…
You’d barely slept a couple of hours and you were exhausted… you turned off the damn alarm and, after stretching your limbs, got up with no enthusiasm at all.
Your morning routine always began the same way: opening the curtains. From your room, you could see the other buildings in the complex and a few lights on.
What all those people were doing…
Ordinary people getting ready for work, students just going to sleep after studying for an exam, restless souls unable to fall asleep. Who would have thought that each little illuminated square was a completely different world under the same sky.
You still had an hour before Emily woke up, therefore the next thing on your busy to-do list was a hot shower. You've had that habit since you were very young. Cold showers were unbearable for you, even on the hottest, most stifling days in New York. As the water ran over your body and the steam filled the air, you went over in your head all the things you had to do, like a child studying for a history exam.
After your shower, you decided to put on something comfortable. Comfy shoes and clothes that allowed you to move around easily were essential for a job where you spent most of the day on your feet. A pair of jeans, a T-shirt, a light cardigan, and matching sneakers.
Once you were ready, and with your hair still damp, you walked to Emily’s room. Her door was decorated with drawings that she’d made over the time. You opened it softly, and once inside, you opened the curtains.
“Good morning, sleepyhead!” you said, and all you got in response was a muffled groan from the little girl, who pulled the pillow over her head.
An amused chuckle escaped your lips as you pulled off the pink blankets, making Emily let out a high-pitched scream.
“You’re so mean!”
“I don’t care, little miss! Go and wash up – breakfast will be ready soon,” you replied, placing your hands on your hips.
With pouty lips, Emily got up. Her long hair was messy, and yawning, almost dragging her bare feet, she walked to the bathroom of the apartment.
“You have fifteen minutes!” and you only got a grunt from your sister.
Breakfast was almost a sacred ritual in both of your lives.
While you waited for the water to boil in the kettle, you started preparing Emily’s breakfast and lunch. A soft smile touched your tired face as you picked up her lunch bag – a lovely pink one decorated with her beloved My Melody. Your little sister had bought it with her own money, which she earned by taking care of the neighbour's cat while the young woman rushed her mother to the hospital after a minor household accident.
That’s why she carried it proudly.
For breakfast? Toast with raspberry jam, some fruit, chocolate milk for Emily, and berry tea for you. While you set everything on the small kitchen table, you made a mental note to stop by the supermarket after work.
For lunch? Sandwiches made with yesterday’s leftover chicken, a bit of salad, and a big red apple for dessert – all neatly packed inside the pink lunch bag along with a box of orange juice.
“Emily? Are you done?” you asked aloud, placing the lunch bag next to her backpack.
“Coming! Coming!”
You sighed and sat on the stool while you took a sip of your steaming mug. You really’d hoped for a better day than yesterday’s. Even though you tried your best, you had gained enemies.
The sudden buzz of your phone brought you to reality. Taking another sip, you picked up your phone and focused on a specific notification – last night's live show had raised almost $200, which would be sent to your account at the end of the month.
You couldn't help but smile. It was money raised to make ends meet and give Emily everything she needed and the occasional treat.
Bzz bzz*
Behind the wheel, Miguel glanced briefly at his phone over his sunglasses. It was probably a message from work. He looked in the rearview mirror, but he had already dropped Gabi off at school –both before walking her to the very entrance and telling her he loved her very much.
He felt nervous, like he was about to throw up the coffee and toasts.
“Focus, you idiot. She's fine. She knows she can trust you, and you have to trust her,” Miguel told himself, without letting go of the steering wheel.
As he stopped at the red light, a few blocks from the massive, modern building, he glanced briefly at his phone. He had a message from Lyla, the receptionist.
“Mr. O’Hara, you have an important meeting at 10am. Please, bring something to take notes and don’t be late.”
Great.
The man hadn’t even had the pleasure of meeting his colleagues –his new colleagues. Because of yesterday’s incident, he’d had to leave early and hadn’t been able to meet them or try the cafeteria food.
Finally, Miguel arrived at Alchemax. When he saw it yesterday, he thought it was a building from another dimension or time, as if he’d taken a journey through space and time, like those movies Gabi liked to watch.
Parking the car on his stop in the parking lot, he grabbed his things. His day had officially begun, and he hoped it would be better than yesterday.
Once he had clocked in at work, Miguel sat down at his desk and reviewed the emails and documents he needed to read. There were only a few minutes left before the meeting Lyla had mentioned by message –and once he arrived as well.
As Miguel made a mental list of the things he had to do that day, his eyes glanced at the framed photo of Gabriella beside the screen. It was a picture from her sixth birthday, wearing a princess crown in front of a white cake with blue details and soccer balls made of fondant.
A soft smile relaxed the tense muscles of his face.
“Everything will be alright soon, mi amor…”
The clock in the corner of his screen announced 10 a.m., and he left a Post-it note that read, “IN A MEETING. BE BACK SOON.” with bold letters. Steady steps headed him toward the meeting room, with his glasses on the bridge of his nose and his tablet in hand.
The meeting room wasn’t far. According to Lyla’s instructions, he had to go to the third floor, in the genetics department. Miguel took the elevator, and once he arrived on that floor, he looked for the room. The hallways were white and lit with cold light, giving them a clean appearance.
Finally, Miguel reached the room. A glass door with large letters indicated that it was the room he was looking for. He pushed it open and went inside.
In the middle, a long table was already occupied by three people– a black woman, a blond man with his blue eyes focused on some documents, and finally, another man with a bit of one- or two-day stubble and noticeable dark circles under his eyes. Apparently, they were some of the many scientists working in that enormous building.
Clearing his throat, he greeted them.
“Good morning.”
The three looked up and returned the greeting with a welcoming smile.
“Hey there, partner! Are you Miguel O’Hara?” greeted the man with the stubble.
Miguel nodded and sat down next to the woman, who greeted him in a more… “distant” way, yet not cold.
“It’s a pleasure to have you join the genetics department. My name is Jessica Drew. This is Peter B. Parker, and Ben Reilly,” Jessica introduced the team.
Miguel’s first impression was that they weren’t very serious people compared to him. He had always considered himself a serious person, with little desire to share information outside of working hours. It would only be a matter of time before he could tell whether these people, so “different” from him, truly were– or if it was just his own prejudices.
And, of course, his problem with trusting people…
His colleagues, his new neighbours, you…
“All right, gentlemen, let’s begin this meeting,” Jessica started, lowering the blinds and blocking out the light. Then, her fingers pressed a button of a controller, the curtain lowered and pressing another, the projector turned on.
On the curtain, appeared the Alchemax logo along with the phrase “School of Science”.
“Over the next few months, we need to carry out a recruitment process for students in their final year of school who are interested in a future related to science and genetics,” the woman explained, while the slide changed and showed previous photographs of different activities of previous years. “The goal is to offer them a scholarship to attend university and, later on, to complete their internships at Alchemax’s facilities.”
Miguel nodded and, adjusting his glasses, began to write on his tablet. Ben did the same, only on his computer. Parker followed suit, with the difference that he used a paper notepad and a pen.
“I was thinking we could organize events to attract these students’ attention and showcase their potential. Any suggestions?”
A silence fell between them, and Miguel stopped writing to look at the photos. Children and teenagers were lined up for the picture, holding diplomas and smiling brightly. It reminded him a little of his own school days– except he didn’t have any photos or records from those moments…
Of course, his mother hadn’t even bothered to show up for the school events that mattered to him… and he wouldn’t have asked his little brother, Gabriel, to take a photo or skip class just to see him.
His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of that Peter man, who scratched his chin with the back of his pen.
“When I was in school, my teachers always had us do the typical ‘science fair’. It could be a good option,” Parker said in a relaxed, yet still serious tone.
Miguel raised an eyebrow, surprised that Peter had mentioned something similar to what himself had been thinking. But the idea was good and interesting, he had to admit it.
Jess nodded. “How would we go about it?”
This time, Ben spoke up. “We could make it a kind of competition. The most creative and innovative experiments of each school would have the opportunity to submit their résumé.”
“And eventually be selected to receive a scholarship,” Peter added.
Miguel rarely intervened. He saw himself as an attentive listener rather than someone who needed to speak. However, he missed no detail: he took notes on everything, preparing to offer comments, ask questions, or contribute when the right moment came.
“Yes, that could work. That way, we would have several applicants competing for the scholarship,” Jessica commented while taking notes on her computer, which was decorated with a motorcycle sticker. “But to make it happen, we need everything to be well organized. That way, we could start the events before winter break at schools.”
The group worked throughout the entire morning, exchanging ideas and drafting an outline of the possible activities. They had a lot of work ahead of them.
And Miguel had a lot to learn about his colleagues– and how they would work together throughout that time.
Gabriella’s second day had begun quite normally, far more peacefully than the previous one. Emily seemed genuinely happy to be doing her assignments alongside her, carefully following your instructions and listening with attention as you taught the lesson.
Despite having slept only a couple of hours, your energy was almost endless – whenever it came to your students. You moved around the classroom with ease, thanks to your comfy sneakers. Explaining concepts, answering questions, and being kindly patient with those who were still struggling to understand was part of your routine.
A few minutes before class ended, you stepped in front of the whiteboard. Its surface was already covered with notes and little drawings you had made throughout the morning.
“Alright, students. One, two, three, all eyes on me!” you sang out, clapping for each beat.
“One, two, all eyes on you!” the children replied in unison, mimicking your claps.
A smile spread across your face. They had remembered the little call-and-response chant you had taught them the day before.
“Very good!” you praised before pulling a stack of flyers from your bag. “Before we head out for recess, I’m going to give each of you a pamphlet. It’s important that you take it home and show it to your parents or guardians,” as you spoke, you began handing out the colorful sheets of paper. “Remember that these activities are part of your school year.”
Gabriella glanced at the flyer she received. Across the front, large letters read “School Fair”, surrounded by doodles representing different activities: a paintbrush, a basketball, a ballet shoe, a musical note…
And her eyes immediately lit up when she spotted a soccer ball.
“As many of you already know,” you continued while distributing the last few flyers, “all students are expected to participate in extracurricular activities in addition to their regular classes and assignments.”
Once everyone had received one, you returned to the front of the classroom and held up a copy.
“This fair will take place on Friday after the school day ends. Make sure to tell your parents or guardians so they can come with you. Talk to them at home and think about which activity interests you the most.”
The moment you finished speaking, the bell rang throughout the building, announcing the beginning of the long-awaited recess.
But you still had one thing left to do.
You needed to speak with Gabriella and Emily.
After all, they still had to receive their ‘punishment’.
“Emily, Gabriella, could you come here for a moment, please?”
You sat down behind your desk and watched as the two girls slowly approached.
A small ache settled in your chest when you noticed how the bright smiles they had worn only moments ago faded from their faces.
Still, while you couldn’t simply ignore what had happened, you had no intention of being harsh.
Interwinding your hands on the surface of the desk, you cleared your throat.
“You both know that what happened yesterday cannot happen again. And to help you learn from it, the two of you…”
A pause. You noticed the girls reaching for each other’s hands.
“Will be organizing the books on the classroom shelves after school. For a week.”
You tried to sound stern though the gentleness in your voice softened the words. And of course, the girls blinked in disbelief, like they were waiting for something worse, like cleaning the playground or helping the janitor to clean the bathrooms. With a toothbrush.
Unable to help yourself, you let out a small laugh and relaxed your elbows atop the desk.
“Don’t worry. I’ve spoken with the principal, and she agrees that you were only defending yourselves. However, it still can’t happen again. We have rules to follow in this school. And I know you’re both good, well-behaved girls. I believe in you. Understood?”
Gabriella and Emily nodded at the same time.
The weight they had been carrying all morning seemed to vanish from their small shoulders in an instant.
“Yes, miss,” Gabriella replied, feeling Emily’s hand against hers.
“That’s what I like to hear. Now go and enjoy your recess. I’ll be nearby just in case.”
With your head, you gestured toward the door. Without wasting a second, Gabriella gently tugged Emily’s hand and led her out of the classroom, eager to share the pancakes that Miguel made for them.
It lasted only a moment, so brief like a blink of an eye. Yet, just before stepping through the doorway, Emily glanced back over her shoulder at you. When her sweet eyes met yours, a smile appeared on her face before she followed her friend.
Then, the room fell silent. The only sounds left were the distant laughter and shouts of children playing outside, muted by the concrete walls covered in colorful posters.
A tired smile crossed your face. It was only the second day of school, and you already felt exhausted.
In nearly five years of working at the school, you had never had a serious problem with a parent of someone in charge of your students. You had always been careful, handling conflicts with diplomacy, patience, and respect.
The title of 'teacher' is too big for you.
You took a deep breath, just as you had been taught.
Then, you stepped out of the classroom and locked the door behind you.
One step at a time.
The long-awaited Friday had finally come to an end. It was nearly one o’clock in the afternoon, and you knew it the moment the bell rang.
Your students, buzzing with excitement, quickly closed their books and began stuffing everything into their backpacks, eager to attend the highly anticipated school fair and head home to begin the almost sacred weekend.
“Remember to take all your belongings and line up by the door so we can head to the schoolyard together,” you instructed.
Several children were already waiting by the classroom entrance. As always, Emily took her time carefully packing everything into her pink backpack. Gabriella did the same, neatly slipping her notebooks into hers. Waiting for each other seemed a new ritual for the both.
Once everyone was lined up, you slung your tote bag over your shoulder and, taking your place at the front of the line, guided the group toward your destiny.
Along the way, you crossed paths with your other colleagues doing the same. The younger students shuffled along while holding onto the backs of each other’s sweater, forming an adorable little human chain. The older classes–more teenagers than children at this point– laughed and chatted about trivial things as they walked.
Students from every background, color, and culture came together to form the identity of the school.
Eventually, all of you reached the schoolyard.
The sky was clear, and the sun shone brightly, offering some of its summer warmth before the leaves turned shades of yellow and orange, and the autumn winds began to blow.
Colorful booths decorated with banners and themed displays filled the yard. Cheerful music played in the background, inviting students and families to explore the different extracurricular activities available for the coming school year.
And Gabriella could hardly contain her excitement.
She had played soccer at her old school in Mexico, and now, she would finally get the chance to play again.
Little by little, the fear and uncertainty she had carried with her were beginning to fade away. She had her Papito by her side, and Emily as her new friend.
“Wait here until your parents or guardians come for you!” you had to raise your voice, due to the music and noise from outside.
You and your colleagues had their hands full, making sure the more energetic students didn’t bolt across the yard the moment they spotted their mothers and ensuring that every child was picked up by a responsible adult.
Little by little, parents and adults came for the kids. And after saying goodbye to you, and sometimes receiving a hug from some of your students, they left.
“¡Papi!”
The moment Gabriella spotted Miguel, she took off running. Her backpack bounced wildly against her back as she stretched out her arms. Miguel, wearing black pants and his shirt rolled up to the elbow, immediately opened his own and caught his daughter in a warm embrace.
“How was your day, mi amor?” he asked, settling her onto his hip.
“Good! Come on, come on, let me down! I want to be the first one to sign up for soccer!”
The excited girl kicked her legs excitedly, silently demanding to be put down so she could race toward her goal. And it was impossible for Miguel to hide his laughter.
Understanding both her motivation and her obvious body language, Miguel set his daughter down and slipped her backpack from her shoulder, carrying it over one of his own instead.
It looked ridiculously small against his broad frame.
For a brief moment, your eyes met his. Then, he looked away, following Gabriella toward the rows of booths.
You hadn't noticed before just how beautiful Miguel’s eyes were. A rich mahogany color that seemed almost red beneath the afternoon sunlight.
They were… stunning. You had to admit it.
And perhaps it was only your imagination, but the anger you had seen there before… was gone. So was the irritation that had flashed between you during your first meeting after the incident. What remained was something else entirely…
Something you couldn’t quite identify.
“Ehem.”
A small, gentle voice pulled you from your thoughts. Your beloved sister stood beside you, patiently waiting for your attention.
“Oh, right, sweetheart. Sorry. Let’s go to the painting booth. That’s the one you wanted, isn’t it?”
A radiant smile immediately brightened Emily’s delicate features, revealing the small dimple in her right cheek. It was so hard to see her smiling genuinely…
Holding out your hand, she took it without hesitation, and together, the two of you headed off towards your own.
“You have to apologize to her!”
Gabriella declared it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, pausing only long enough to take another bite of her afternoon snack. The two of them were sitting in a small café downtown, and in front of her sat a generous slice of apple pie and a glass of fruit juice.
“What?” Miguel asked, after taking a sip of his coffee. “And who exactly do you think you are, telling me what I have to do, enana?”
“Because it’s what you always tell me,” she replied matter-of-factly. “You should own up to your mistakes.”
Miguel stared at her in disbelief.
Since when did the little girl who was afraid to go to the bathroom alone at night started sounding so mature?
Gabriella was only eight years old, yet she sounded more like a fifteen-year-old lecturing him.
Even the frown on her face and the stubborn pout tugging at her lips looked familiar.
They were his features, and…
No.
Miguel mentally slammed a door shut before the thought could go any further. Some memories were better left untouched.
“You’re awfully bossy, you know that?” he said with a laugh, taking another sip of his coffee.
“And you’re grumpy,” Gabriella shot back immediately. “You’re like Grumpy from Snow White, except for your height.”
Miguel rolled his eyes and laughed again. God– or whoever happened to be up there–had better not let His grand plan involve turning this kid into a teenager who was twice as bossy and just as grumpy as he was.
“And what exactly am I supposed to say to her?” Miguel asked.
And Gabi simply shrugged.
The matter was apparently no longer important enough to deserve her attention. Instead, she returned her full focus to her apple pie.
It had cinnamon on it! Yummy!
Time passed.
Most of the students and their parents or guardians had already left the school grounds, while a handful of stragglers remained behind to join the extracurricular groups that would soon become part of their weekly routines.
Emily held a piece of paper in her both hands, carefully reading and rereading through everything she could look forward to during the school year.
Her eyes sparkled with such pure excitement that you couldn’t help the fond ache that tugged at your heart.
After school, Emily would finally get to attend the painting classes she had been looking forward to. There would be museum visits, shared art supplies, creative projects and…
“Emily!”
Both of you turned toward the source of the shout.
Gabriella was running across the yard, her dark ponytail bouncing behind her and bright grin lighting up her face. Behind her, Miguel followed at a much calmer pace, still carrying Gabi’s backpack over one shoulder and a blue folder tucked beneath one arm.
The moment Gabriella reached her friend, the two girls threw their arms around each other as if they hadn’t seen one another in weeks rather than less than an hour ago.
“Guess what?” Gabriella exclaimed. “I’m finally going to play soccer again!”
Emily gasped and you smiled.
“And I’m going to painting classes!”
The girls were an endless source of energy, and seeing his daughter so excited filled Miguel’s chest with warmth. For weeks, she had been withdrawn, quiet and uninterested in the things she normally loved.
Seeing her smile again–seeing her find a place where she belonged so quickly–was more than he could have hoped for. Meanwhile, you watched them with a smile of your own, completely unaware of the bittersweet thoughts passing through Miguel’s mind.
And then, once again… your eyes met.
You felt your heart stumbling inside your chest, giving a sudden, traitorous leap that made you feel as though it might escape entirely. And instead of listening to the irrational part of your brain and fleeing like a complete coward, you simply inclined your head in a small greeting.
A simple gesture. A polite acknowledgement.
Unfortunately, Gabriella and Emily might have been young, but they were far from oblivious.
“Dad, aren’t you going to say ‘hello’ to Miss Hayes?”
Miguel immediately wished the ground would open beneath his feet and swallow him whole. On the other hand, you had to cover your laugh with a cough.
Taking a slow breath, Miguel stepped forward and extended his hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you properly, Miss Hayes. I apologize for not introducing myself the other day. My name is Miguel O’Hara, and I’m–”
“Gabriella’s father,” you finished for him with a polite smile. And you accepted his hand, giving it a gentle shake. “The pleasure is mine, Mr O’Hara. I’m (name) Hayes.”
Both girls giggled. And then, as expected, Gabriella immediately took matters into her own, small hands.
“You said you needed to talk to Miss Hayes, Dad. So… we’ll leave you two alone!”
Before either of you could protest, Gabriella grabbed Emily’s hand and took off running toward the grassy area of the schoolyard, where the two girls immediately began playing together.
You could practically hear Miguel’s internal screaming. The view was amusing enough that you had to fight back another smile.
It was obvious how close he and Gabriella were. She was a very sweet, well-mannered girl. A little stubborn, perhaps. But sweet nonetheless.
“Miss Hayes,” Miguel began. His voice came out rougher than intended, prompting him to clear his throat before continuing. “The truth is… I’d like to have a word with you before Gabriella and I leave.”
Oh.
Of course. Now what?
You nodded politely and glanced around the schoolyard, already searching for somewhere suitable to continue the conversation. However, before you could suggest anything, it was Miguel’s turn to read your thoughts.
“If it isn’t too much trouble,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’d rather not talk out here. Would you mind?”
The classroom where you taught was empty, so you suggested they speak there.
As soon as he stepped inside, Miguel paused. His eyes swept across the room– the small desks, the cubbies now decorated with colorful stickers, the bright posters covering the walls. It looked more like an art studio than a classroom.
“Please, have a seat, Mr. O’Hara,” you said, gesturing toward the chair beside your desk. Meanwhile, you perched yourself on the edge of one of the students’ desks.
Without a word, Miguel sat down. He was tense. Painfully tense. His heart beat a little faster than usual, and he hated that he was suddenly aware of it. How hard could this possibly be?
Clearing his throat, he finally began. “Well, Miss Hayes. First of all…” he paused, searching for the right words. “I think– no, I know I owe you an apology.”
Your eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. If you were being honest, you had expected excuses. Maybe even another argument. Your imagination had already prepared you for a dozen unpleasant possibilities.
An apology had not been one of them.
“I truly am sorry for how I reacted on the children’s first day,” Miguel continued. “The way I spoke to you wasn’t… fair.”
But you remained silent, allowing the nervous man to continue.
“Everything’s been… complicated. For both Gabi and me.”
Miguel let out a frustrated grunt and ran a hand through his brown hair, pushing it back from his face.
“The thing is…” exhaled slowly. “As you probably know, we only moved here this summer. It’s been… so hard for her to adjust to this new life.”
His gaze dropped briefly toward the floor.
“And well… I guess part of me was scared too.” He cleared his throat again and glanced back up. You were still listening.
Still maintaining eye contact.
Still treating him with far more patience than he probably deserved.
"When I got that phone call, I swear, all I wanted to do was hold her and make sure she was okay. There's nothing I wouldn't do for Gabriella. We're just–"
"Mr. O'Hara," you interrupted gently, lifting a hand. "It's alright. You don't have to tell me anything you're not comfortable sharing."
His words died immediately.
"I accept your apology."
For a moment, Miguel simply stared. Then the tension drained from his shoulders. Just a little and you noticed it instantly.
"To be honest," you continued with a small laugh, "I would probably react the same way if I were a mother," the lighthearted comment softened some of the heaviness hanging in the room.
"As I explained before, situations like that are often beyond our control. And I should apologize as well." You intertwined your fingers in your lap and offered him a warm smile. "But please don't worry. The principal and the rest of my colleagues take our students' well-being very seriously, especially those who may need a little extra support."
Miguel bit the inside of his cheek. Guilt settled heavily in his chest again.
He had been unfair. Far too harsh.
And, damn it, Gabriella had been right.
Miss Hayes really was kind, patient, and far more understanding than he had expected. Not to mention...
He quickly forced that train of thought to stop.
The pink cardigan suited you, though.
"I appreciate that, Miss Hayes," he said quietly. "And... thank you."
He hesitated before adding, "It's been hard. For both of us, but especially for her. I'm raising Gabriella on my own, and some days..." He let out a tired breath. "Some days I feel like I'm making it up as I go."
The reaction was subtle.
So subtle most people wouldn't have noticed.
But your eyes widened so slightly.
A single father.
That explained a great deal, the fierce protectiveness, the exhaustion hidden behind his stern demeanor, the way Gabriella spoke about him with so much affection.
Questions flickered briefly through your mind.
What had happened to Gabriella's mother? Was she gone? Had she left?
But those questions weren't yours to ask. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Instead, you chose compassion.
"Mr. O'Hara," you said softly, "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but I think you're doing a wonderful job."
Miguel froze.
"I’ve only known Gabriella for a week. And during this week, I‘ve seen an energetic little girl with a good heart. She's kind to her classmates, she's brave, and she clearly loves her father very much."
The knot in Miguel's throat appeared without warning.
For eight years, he had lived with the constant fear that he was failing her. No one had ever looked him in the eye and told him he was doing a good job. No one.
"Thank you, Miss Hayes," he said quietly. The voice came out rough. "Yeah... she's a good girl."
The best thing that had ever happened to him.
Slowly, he stood from his chair and slung Gabriella's sky-blue backpack over his shoulder once again.
"With your permission, Miss Hayes, we'd better get going. Gabriella needs lunch, and I should get back to work."
You slid off the desk and stood as well.
"Of course."
For a brief moment, neither of you spoke. The silence no longer felt uncomfortable. Then, the tall man headed to the doorway, but he stopped.
"So," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "I guess we'll be seeing each other again on Monday."
A smile tugged at your lips.
"I imagine we will."
A faint smile answered yours.
Almost imperceptible.
But there.
"Have a good weekend, Miss Hayes."
"You too, Mr. O'Hara."
With that, he turned and headed back toward the schoolyard, where Gabriella's laughter could already be heard in the distance.
You remained in the doorway for a moment, watching him go.
Then you shook your head and laughed softly to yourself.
The first week of school had certainly been more eventful than expected.
One step at a time.
Tag list: @imamexican , @chubbyhedgehog, @ryk-mt (if you want to be tagged, let me know <3)
Thank you very much for reading this far😭✨️
Any comments or feedback with respect will be welcome ❤️
"Sev! You are doing it all wrong! I told you to go left!" You pouted as you tried to instruct her. The moving in together turned out to be much more complicated than both of you thought.
"For fucks sake! My left or your left?" Sevika began to get frustrated. It was late at night and she had work early in the morning. The last thing on her mind was arguing about couch’s placement in the living room. You, on the other hand, clearly had different priorities.
"Does it matter?" You asked dumbfounded and you swore Sevika’s eyelid twitched in frustration.
"Doll, you are damn lucky you got yourself a woman like me." She tried to play it off but her bags under eyes told a whole different story.
"But if you didn’t have a sweet girl like me, you wouldn’t even think of getting things like couch or a bed frame." You winked at her and smiled brightly. But her reaction was far from ideal considering your praiseworthy comment.
"I’m sure my wallet thinks otherwise." You only stared her down from head to toes. The snarky remark added fuel to the fire.
"Oh, quit it! I told you I could pay for it!" You only rolled your eyes in disapproval and sat down on the nearby chair.
It was true, the flat belongs to Sevika. However, after endless arguments about moving in, Sevika gave in and let you decorate the apartment with anything you wanted. But her version of decorating clearly never matched yours. You were aware that Sevika is a simple woman - she doesn’t spend money lightly (excluding cigar). Thus, soft blankets, furniture, and cute trinkets collecting dust on shelves have never been on your girlfriend’s mind.
"With what money?" She only chuckled as she grabbed you from the chair and sat you on her lap. "You can’t even save a penny. You spend too much time with your head is in clouds, darling."
You turned your head towards hers so lively your hair smashed her face. The dramatic act cost you a harsh pinch on your thigh as a punishment.
"Ouch, brute!" You whined in pain and started massaging the abused spot. Sevika’s gaze was focused on you as she tried her best not to annoy you even more.
"Beside, I will pay the mortgage." You declared proudly with a big smile. Yet, Sevika mockingly laughed at your announcement and hid her face in the crook of your neck.
"Doll, your part time job wouldn’t even cover it." The snort made your blood boil. You pushed yourself off her muscular body and stuck out your tongue.
"Fine! I will be a damn parasite!" Truth be told, you did appreciate Sevika’s need to be in control. You never had to ask yourself if you could afford anything. Sevika always had everything covered for you whether it was a new bag you definitely didn’t need or some trinket you found in a vintage store.
"I will gladly keep such a pretty parasite, though." She got up and patted your thigh playfully. "C’mon, darling… I’d rather have us in bed than arguing about this couch."
Needless to say, the couch was long forgotten and left in the place it wasn’t meant to be.
omg i NEED to see ur take on castiel x reader and the whole debrah thing!!!!! im so sure u r gonna write it soooo good <3
★ GO AWAY
synopsis: Castiel made a mistake, but would you be willing to forgive him?
❤︎ featuring : castiel veilmont x F!reader
❤︎ words count : 3.0k
⤷ Masterlist
author’s note — I don't understand how Candy could forgive him so easily; that's why I made sure you wouldn't forgive him immediately here. And Lysander, who's still as perfect as ever (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ
ᥫ᭡ It was a nightmare. How could things have gone so wrong?
The concert went wonderfully; you were even surprised that such a spur-of-the-moment idea had actually turned out so well! People loved the event, and all your friends had a great time. You enjoyed yourself too, dancing with Rosalya and admiring the confidence with which Castiel played.
You were also surprised that he agreed to perform on stage for the school; you must have had to find others to convince him to join you, and even ask him yourself. But it seems Castiel really enjoyed the event: being able to pursue his passion without anyone criticizing him for it (and without the principal complaining).
But the good time was quickly forgotten with the arrival of one person, and that person was none other than...
"Deborah…?"
Your voice trembled without you realizing it, observing here and now with your own eyes this girl you hated like you'd never hated anyone before. You'd known this girl for a long time; you'd arrived at the school a few days before she and Castiel broke up, before she left the school afterward.
There were plenty of reasons for you to hate her. Rosalya had already told you several times about the awful things she'd done, and the few dozen days you'd spent together before she left had been enough to make you despise her. How could people fall for her fake, sweet-girl persona? Her angelic face seemed to turn everyone's head, and you couldn't understand why.
You were already friends with Castiel when they were together, and you saw that he was happy with her, but you understood that this girl had a bad influence on him, she was pulling him down to put herself at the top; she hid him in the shadows to shine in everyone's eyes, and Castiel didn't even realize it.
But that was over a year ago, and Deborah's absence had brought you and Castiel much closer. You'd never truly wanted to acknowledge your feelings for him, but Rosalya and Lysander's constant remarks had finally made you realize you'd fallen in love. Unfortunately, you'd never quite found the courage to actually tell him how you felt, contenting yourself with the ambiguous friendship you shared.
So seeing her here, you never would have guessed! And you absolutely didn't want to see her again... but why, really? She and Castiel aren't together anymore, she never actually did anything to you. So you didn't need to worry...
Deborah gave you a sweet smile as she approached you. "Ah, you're here! It's been so long, my dear. I've missed you!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a hug.
You stiffened instantly before awkwardly placing your hands on her back. "Ah...Deborah, it has been a long time, yes...What brings you here...?"
She released you, placing her hands on your shoulders while maintaining eye contact. "Well, I heard about a concert at the school, and since I was passing through town, I thought I'd check it out!" She then placed her hand in the small of your back, encouraging you to walk beside her as you entered the school's entrance hall.
"And then, I really wanted to see kitten again. It's been a long time since I last spoke to him, so when I saw him playing guitar, I realized that my feelings for him had never really disappeared."
At her words, you felt your heart skip a beat. She still had feelings for Castiel?
"Really…?" You said with hesitation.
You stopped in the hallway, and you were slightly surprised before noticing Iris walking happily towards you. "Deborah!" she exclaimed.
The brunette greeted her back, and Iris turned to you, a smile never leaving her lips. "Oh, I see you've already had a chat with her! Anyway, Deborah, it's so nice to see you again. I'm sure the others will be happy too!"
Deborah smiled back before replying. "Iris, I'm glad to see you too. Shall we talk later? I was just talking to her about something important." She said, gesturing towards you.
Iris understood immediately and didn't wait any longer before leaving. Just then, Deborah grabbed your arm and pulled you abruptly towards the school's basement.
"Hey! What are you doing?!" you exclaimed, but Deborah ignored you, closing the door behind her, and turning to you. "What are you playing at?" But she still didn't seem to want to answer, staring thoughtfully at the floor.
"Do you know why I left a year ago?"
"No, why would I?" You answered.
Deborah laughed at your answer. She then crossed her arms, staring at you with an intensity that made you uncomfortable.
"At that time, Castiel and I had an offer from a fairly well-known agency. But you see, there's only room for one celebrity, and although I liked Castiel, I wasn't going to ruin my career for a trivial high school crush."
"A high school crush? You could have become famous alongside Castiel, you're just trying to excuse your actions."
Deborah laughed bitterly before replying. "I'm not excusing myself, on the contrary, I take full responsibility. I'm the only one who would become famous for my talent, and I certainly don't want to share that fame with anyone. Besides, in trying to get rid of Castiel, I also had to use Nathaniel, against my will."
You raised an eyebrow at his reply. "Use him? Is it because of you that he and Castiel hate each other so much?"
Deborah shrugged. "That's not the point, who cares anyway."
"What I don't understand is why you're telling me all this? I hope you realize that Castiel and I are friends, and that I would obviously go and tell him everything you've told me."
Deborah simply approached you, placing her finger on your chest before pushing you away with a mocking smile. "Do you think I'm an idiot? I know perfectly well that in your eyes, Castiel is much more than a friend. Even when we were together, I saw you drooling over him at every opportunity. But be realistic, between you and me, who will he believe? You, the girl who's his so-called friend and wants to ruin our relationship? Or me, his ex who's back and wants to rekindle things?"
The words caught in your throat, and Deborah couldn't help but smile even more at your reaction. "See? What I like about you is that you're realistic. You know that between you and me, I'll win. So don't waste the only good thing you have, and just enjoy the show. Besides, you shouldn't talk to Castiel; you'll do yourself more harm than good seeing him leave school."
At her words, Deborah left the basement, leaving you alone, drowning in your thoughts.
Several days had passed, and it was fair to say that one problem after another had kept piling up. You'd tried to warn the others about Deborah's behavior, but it took a few crocodile tears from her for everyone to turn their backs on you. Then Amber and her friends had to play a dirty trick on Deborah, and you were made the scapegoat. And that's how you ended up here, in the stairwell, with Castiel, who was clearly not pleased.
"Are you crazy or what? Are you mentally three years old to be doing something so stupid? You could have hurt her too! Throwing a bucket of water on her, is that really all you have to do?"
"But, Castiel, it wasn't me! It was Amber and her friends who—"
"Shut up! At least own up to your shit, damn it. You disappoint me, I didn't think you'd go this far."
"But you don't understand! Can't you see she's manipulating you? This girl is using you like a puppet, using you when she needs you and then throwing you away as soon as you're useless in her eyes. She's already done it once, do you think she won't be able to do it a second time?"
"Listen carefully, I'm not going to repeat myself. Deborah is here to offer me a golden opportunity, and I don't want you interfering."
You looked him up and down, then pressed your lips together before sighing. "As long as you don't fall back into her arms..."
Castiel gave a quick smile that vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "Fall back into her arms? You're not my mother, and I'm not going to do that."
You looked him up and down before crossing your arms. "That's why you put on the clothes you wore when you were dating her."
Your remark didn't seem to amuse him, and as you turned to leave, Castiel grabbed your arm and slammed you against the wall. "Listen, I'm not going to waste any more time. Stay away from me, her, and everyone I care about."
Your breath caught in your throat, and all you could see was the furious anger and rage blazing in his grey eyes. You tried to move, only for his grip on your arm to tighten. "But…How can you believe her...? I...It's not like I'm just some acquaintance of yours trying to ruin her reputation. You and I...we had something between us..." You felt tears welling up in your eyes, trying your best to hold them back. "I just want to make sure you don't fall for her tricks a second time..."
But the young man's reply was the last you expected to hear. In fact, his words hit you like a bomb, a needle piercing your poor heart and crushing your feelings.
"There was never anything between us. You're nobody to me, just...disappear..."
Castiel then released you from his grasp, without a thought for the effect his words had on you. But you felt that effect all too well. Your heart ached like never before. You, who had always made sure Castiel was happy, who had defended him body and soul, who had cherished your moments together; smoking under the stairwell, playing guitar together, cuddling...
So, were all those moments spent together nothing to him?
You didn't wait any longer to walk away, not even taking the time to look at him one last time before running away, trying to dry your tears as quickly as possible.
Castiel watched you leave, an inexplicable glint shining in his eyes. He squinted, ran his hands through his hair before punching the wall in frustration.
Deborah had won, she was right. Castiel believed her, not you! How could you possibly think he would believe you...
"Wait!" A voice called out from behind you. You slowly turned your head, wiping away another falling tear. That's when you noticed Lysander running towards you, a worried expression on his face.
"Lysander..." You sniffed again before jumping into his arms, finally letting go and crying your heartbreak. He wrapped his arms around you, letting you release your feelings without interruption.
"Nothing's going right, everyone thinks I'm harassing Deborah...nobody wants to talk to me anymore, and Castiel hates me..."
Lysander ran his hand through your hair, gently stroking your back as he listened attentively. He frowned, annoyed by the injustice you were experiencing. "You're not alone, Rosalya is here for you. I am here for you too. This situation is difficult for you, I know. But everything will be alright, don't worry. Listen, go home, and tomorrow we'll have a plan to resolve all of this."
"What plan?"
Lysander smiled slightly before placing his hands on your shoulders. "Don't worry about it. Go home and rest, okay?"
À few days had passed, and Lysander was right. Everything had been resolved. He, Rosalya, Nathaniel, Kentin, and Armin had devised a plan to expose Deborah's true colors. Everyone had the chance to hear your argument thanks to the headmistress's microphone, and despite her attempt to lie to everyone again, no one believed her. And she ran away, real tears streaming down her cheeks this time.
But despite the few days of rest since she left, a part of you was missing. Castiel had been dry all week, declaring that he simply wanted time to think. You still asked Lysander for news of him, who simply replied that he was still thinking.
You were spending your days with him and Rosalya. The other girls still tried to talk to you, but you couldn't yet fully forgive their reaction and actions.
It was after school. Lysander had dropped you off at home and left after a few minutes of conversation. He then arrived at the park where Castiel was sitting on a bench with a cigarette between his lips. Lysander approached him and sat down next to him.
After a few moments of silence, the young man with heterochromatic eyes turned to his friend, finally deciding to bring his friend to his senses. "When are you going to apologize?"
Castiel immediately frowned, lightly biting his cigarette while running a hand along the back of his neck. "What the hell do you want me to say to her?"
"Do you hear yourself? This whole thing has made her sick, you believed Deborah instead of her, and on top of that, you made her cry. Question yourself, Castiel. By acting like this, you're only going to push her away from you, is that what you want?"
Castiel fell silent then, causing Lysander to sigh as he gazed at the landscape before him. "Words hurt, Castiel. You should know that, so take responsibility for what you said and make amends."
"But what if she doesn't want to talk to me anymore?"
"It will be entirely your fault."
The radio blaring was the only sound in your living room. Accompanied by the sound of your ice cream being eaten by you, while you read your book at the same time. Night had fallen long ago; it must have been at least 3 a.m. And even though you had school in a few hours, you simply couldn't fall asleep.
The whole thing was swirling around in your mind, especially the argument between you and Castiel. You simply couldn't get his words out of your head, and despite Rosalya's advice to just listen to your heart (and also to insult that idiot), you just wanted to go back to him. But you weren't going to! His words had hurt you too much for you to forgive him so quickly.
But your dark thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of your apartment doorbell. You sat bolt upright like a frightened rabbit, clutching the spoon in your hand like a weapon. Who could be ringing at this hour?
"It’s…me."
You got up without waiting, approached the front door which you were about to open, but you stopped, before simply leaning against it. "What are you doing here?"
"I...I'm sorry, for this whole thing."
"It's too easy to say that, Castiel. You can be sorry, but I can't forgive you that easily. Everything you said to me...I can't forget it all. You know, I thought you and I really had something. I was...I'm in love with you, Castiel, but the only response I've gotten to my feelings is that you've never considered me someone you love..."
A silence fell then, making you sigh. Did he really have nothing to say? He had simply come to say "sorry" and then thought you were going to jump into his arms, kiss him, and tell him you forgave him?
"I love you. Like crazy, okay? I...I messed up, it's true. Seeing her here again after all this time made me panic. I was torn between my feelings for you and the opportunity she gave me. This whole thing made me panic, and I really thought you were the one causing all the trouble. And I...made a mistake, it's true. I took my frustration out on you, and I never should have. But...I know it's you I love."
"What did she have that I don’t have? Why did you believe her when all I ever wanted was what was best for you...? You hurt me so much, Castiel. I...I don't know if I can forgive you. But for now...I don't want to see you, Castiel..." Your throat tightened, and tears welled up. How could he even dare come back after that...? You didn't want to see him...Not now, not right now.
But could you even forgive him? This whole thing has surely proven to you that Castiel might not be the one for you? You needed to think about all of this, and then you would give Castiel an answer. You took a deep breath before finally letting out your last words before leaving.
ᥫ᭡ Boyfriend!Castiel's love language is physical touch. Whenever he gets the chance, he puts his arm around your shoulders or waist. He's always seeking your physical contact, no matter the place or time. He'll never admit it, but feeling your presence under his touch instantly calms him and truly reminds him that you're always by his side.
ᥫ᭡ Boyfriend!Castiel who is jealous, very jealous. He knows perfectly well that you love him and would never look elsewhere. But the mere sight of you with another guy irritates him immensely, and he can't help but let you know it with very sharp and aggressive remarks. And if he sees you with that idiot class rep, he'd be ready to jump down his throat.
ᥫ᭡ Boyfriend!Castiel who loves it when you match his energy. That's actually the first reason he fell in love with you. You've always been someone who doesn't let herself be pushed around but is still willing to help others. But when he teases you, he loves seeing your reactions, and bonus points if you respond a little bit sarcastically.
ᥫ᭡ Boyfriend!Castiel who writes dozens and dozens of songs about you, spending hours etching lyrics onto paper that remind him of you. Every time he does, he can't help but blush and smile, falling in love with you all over again with every word he writes. But he would never show them to you, or to Lysander. It’s his secret garden, and he would die of shame if you ever found out about it.
ᥫ᭡ Boyfriend!Castiel, at whose house you spend a lot of time. Since his parents are never there, you take full advantage and stay at his place almost all the time. Either you cuddle on his bed or you listen to him play his guitar. And you'd better compliment him when he does! Of course, he'll reply with something like: "Of course you like it, I'm the one who played this music," or "You really can't stop complimenting me, can you?" But be warned, if you don't, prepare to be bombarded with questions about why you didn't like it. After all, you're pretty much the only person he would ask for advice from.
ᥫ᭡ Boyfriend!Castiel who loves watching you play with his dog, Demon. Most people are afraid of his dog because of its size (and its owner, but shh…), so seeing you play with it always brings a smile to his face. (He pretends it's a mocking smile when you fall trying to catch Demon as it runs off with a stick in its mouth.)
ᥫ᭡ Boyfriend!Castiel is truly in love with you. When you're not paying attention, his eyes can't leave your silhouette, gazing at you with all the love in the world. You're the one who managed to break through his shell. You're one of those who doesn't judge him for his behavior and tries every day to understand him better. And even if he's not necessarily the best boyfriend in the world, he knows how to recognize his mistakes and tries to become better just to see you smile.
ᥫ᭡ And please, don't use him the way Deborah did. Or just don't break his heart. He wouldn't take it, not a second time. And not from you, especially not.
ᥫ᭡ Not when he considers you the love of his life.
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