#exchanges; gabriella

[mattersofentropy]

It hadn't taken much for Gabriella to agree to the date when she had been approach and now, she was more than thrilled that she had. When the college course had been decided upon, she would have never guessed that it would have led to her catching the attention of one of the professors. Santiago had been charming from the start and the artistic ability had caught her off guard when he has presented her with a drawing. That had been enough to get her to agree to a date. Now here, Gabriella was listening to him talk about his classes. A sip of her wine and a small laugh. "It sounds like they are a handful." This was why she hadn't gone into teaching, no patience for it. "I'll take poking people all day over that," she offered with another light laugh. // @kiissme

[struggling-with-drivers]

Under the Opulence - Max Verstappen

⋗ Pairing - Max Verstappen x Reader

⋗ Summary - Your family isn't kind to you, and in fact, they all think Max would be a much better fit for your sister. Max likes to differ.

⋗ Word count - 3.4k words, hurt/comfort

⋗ Masterlist - This has been finished for some time, but I've only gotten around to given it a name Feedback and reblogs are appreciated

The grandeur of your family's foyer, adorned with polished marble and intricate chandeliers, set the stage for Max’s introduction to the world you came from. As you and Max entered, the echoes of your footsteps reverberated through the opulent space, the air charged with excitement and anxiety, but most noticeably on your side, dread. 

Gabriella, your sister, emerged from an adjoining room, her presence demanding attention. With her radiant smile and effortless poise, she seemed to glide into the scene like a queen entering her court. She was the star of the family, the golden child who effortlessly commanded attention and adoration. With her striking looks and sharp intellect, she had always been the one to effortlessly charm anyone who crossed her path. Even your past romantic interests had succumbed to her allure, leaving you with the bitter taste of never good enough.

"It's okay, we're sisters," Gabriella would nonchalantly reassure you. "They weren't good enough for you if they wanted me more."

Her eyes, adorned with an air of confidence, locked onto Max, acknowledging his presence with a subtle yet unmistakable hint of curiosity. Bluntly scrutinising Max, she drank him up with her eyes, then she battered her long eyelashes a few times before slotting into the role of the perfect twin sister.

Max, a bit taken aback by the unexpected encounter, met Gabriella's gaze with a polite smile. That was all your sister needed before stepping forward, presenting her hand gracefully, a subtle gesture that belied the underlying power dynamics at play. Max, being the gentleman he was, reciprocated the greeting with a warm shake. However, as the customary exchange lingered for a moment longer than expected, you felt an unspoken tension building. 

“Gabriella, but you – my dear – can call me Gabbie.” Her voice sang in the foyer, bouncing so wonderfully off the walls. You wanted nothing more than to leave. Their hands were still intertwined. 

Instinctively, you began to withdraw your hand from his left, realising that you were caught in an awkward silence. Gabriella's grip on Max's hand tightened imperceptibly, and you hesitated for a split second, torn between asserting yourself and avoiding a confrontation. Finally, you reluctantly released Max's hand, a subtle concession that felt like surrender.

However, your parents made their grand entrance, drawn by the commotion in the foyer.

Gabriella finally let go of Max. She stepped back, allowing a brief respite from the charged exchange. 

Your mother, an elegant woman with an air of sophistication, approached with a warm smile. "Oh, there you all are! We were starting to wonder when you'd make it to the heart of the festivities."

As she spoke, her eyes lingered on Gabriella and Max, a subtle but knowing gleam in her eyes. It was as if she sensed the unspoken currents beneath the surface. Your father, a more reserved figure, stood beside her, observing the scene with a discerning gaze.

"Mom, Dad, this is Max," you introduced, trying to steer the conversation away from the palpable tension that lingered.

With an air of practised nonchalance, Gabriella returned her attention to Max, a playful smile gracing her lips. "Well, Max, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you," she purred, her words leaving an ambiguous trail of intentions.

She tried to grasp his hand once again, but instead, he started helping you out of your coat to keep his hands busy.

Max, still wanting to leave a good impression, responded with a friendly smile. "Likewise, Gabriella. Your sister here has spoken highly of you too," he said, casting a glance in your direction, before he extended a polite hand toward your parents, exchanging pleasantries as he tried to steer the conversation towards the two newcomers in the foyer. 

Gabriella subtly positioned herself beside him, a silent claim reaffirmed. The atmosphere remained charged, your parents seemingly ignorant of the intricate dynamics playing out before them. The dreadful feeling returned to you as your mom made eye contact with you once more. You averted your eyes.

Gabriella, seizing the opportunity, looped her arm through Max's, as if marking her territory. "Max, let me give you a tour of this magnificent place. There are so many things you haven't seen yet," she exclaimed, her tone holding a mixture of innocence and mischief.

Your heart sank as you watched them disappear into the lavish corridors of your family home.

“Let them go, honey. I’m sure he will be quite interested in our family’s history.” Your mother commented, foregoing the formality of any other type of recognition or greeting to you as she and your dad disappeared after Gabriella and Max.

Leaving you on your own in the opulent foyer, you wished to leave once more.

Determined to regain some semblance of composure, you wandered into the adjacent parlour, a room adorned with plush furniture and rich tapestries. The soft glow of antique lamps cast a warm ambience, but even the comforting setting couldn't dispel the growing unease. You settled into a chair, the plush upholstery offering little solace for the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. The room seemed to close in on you as you anxiously waited for Max and Gabriella to return. The dreadful feeling intensified with every passing moment, and your mind raced with unsettling thoughts.

Finally, the door swung open, and they entered the parlour. Gabriella's laughter echoed through the room. Max wore a polite smile, seemingly having enjoyed the tour, but you couldn't shake the feeling that Gabriella was orchestrating an elaborate performance.

"This place is quite… something," Max said, casting a glance in your direction as if seeking reassurance or acknowledgement. You tried to smile at him. Gabriella, however, continued to dominate the spotlight.

"We have quite the family history," she replied with a sly smile, her eyes flickering between Max and you. "It's a shame you won't be able to hear all the juicy details."

You forced another smile in response, but the unease gnawed at you. As they settled into the room, Gabriella strategically took the seat next to Max, her gestures and expressions aimed at enchanting him right before your eyes.

The conversation flowed effortlessly between them, a dance of words that excluded you from its rhythm. You felt like a mere observer in your own home, watching as Gabriella captivated Max with tales of the family's past, her laughter ringing like an enchanting melody.

Your attempts to engage in the conversation were met with fleeting glances as if your presence were an afterthought. Gabriella was ever so quick to recapture Max’s attention, despite your valiant efforts to seek a way into the discussion.

Desperate for a reprieve, you finally excused yourself under the pretence of attending to something in the kitchen. As you escaped the room, the weight of the evening bore down on you, and you couldn't shake the sinking feeling that this family gathering had become a stage for a performance in which you had no choice but to play a reluctant supporting role.

In the kitchen, you busied yourself with trivial tasks, the rhythmic clinking of dishes providing a brief respite from the orchestrated drama in the parlour. The tension that had followed you from the foyer to the parlour lingered like an unwelcome guest, and you desperately sought a moment of solitude to collect your thoughts.

As you absentmindedly stacked plates from the dishwasher, your mother entered the kitchen, her gaze lingering on you with a knowing expression. It was as if she could sense the turbulence beneath the composed facade you were desperately trying to maintain.

"Oh, dear, are you alright?" she inquired, her tone carrying a hint of concern.

You forced a smile, attempting to deflect the obvious discomfort. "I'm fine, just needed a moment away from the chatter in there."

Your mother's eyes softened, but there was a glint of curiosity. "Well, I must say, Gabriella and Max make quite the pair. They look so good together, don't you think?"

The question hung in the air, a subtle prod at the heart of the matter. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as you processed the implications of your mother's words. It was a commentary that cut through the facade you were desperately trying to maintain.

"Oh, Mom, they're just chatting. It doesn't mean anything," you responded, attempting to downplay the situation.

Your mother, however, seemed undeterred. "I don't know, dear. They do seem to have a certain chemistry, don't you think? They'd make a handsome couple."

The weight of her words settled on you like an anvil, and you struggled to find a suitable response. The kitchen, for a brief moment, had been a sanctuary, but now felt like a confessional where you were forced to confront the complexities of your feelings.

"I...I don't know, Mom. It's just an introduction," you stammered, your attempts to maintain composure faltering.

Her gaze lingered on you for a moment, and then she sighed, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You know, sometimes we find unexpected connections in the most peculiar places. And if they happen to find something special tonight, well, we should be happy for them, shouldn't we?"

You felt a surge of frustration and helplessness.

“It’s such a shame his looks just aren’t quite there, but he certainly has other features to make up for it. Wouldn’t you say so as well? Yes, a shame, but Gabriella has always been so kind-hearted. I’m sure she doesn’t mind either.” Your mother continued, before finally smiling at you. 

Her message was loud and clear, as she had expressed her approval of Max as a suitable match for Gabriella. 

Your mother wanted you to break up with Max and hand him over.

It was as though Max was a commodity to be exchanged, a possession for your sister to play with until she grew tired and moved on. It made you feel sick to the stomach. 

“Dinner is all ready, your father just put down the roast on the table.”

You followed your mother into the dining room, the scent of the roast filling the air. The grand table, adorned with fine china and polished silverware, became the stage for the next act in this familial drama.

As you took your seat, Max seated next to you, your parents strategically positioned Gabriella opposite Max. The tension in the room was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that every word and gesture would be scrutinised.

"So, Max," your mother began, her eyes flickering between Max and Gabriella, "how did you find our home? Quite exquisite, isn't it?"

Max, thankfully pr-trained, nodded appreciatively. "It's a stunning place with so much history."

Gabriella's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and you braced yourself for what would come next. Your mother, however, wasn't finished.

"And speaking of history," she continued, casting a pointed look at Gabriella, "our family has quite a rich one. Gabriella, why don't you share some of the highlights? Max might find it fascinating."

“It’s alright, I think I heard enough earlier,” Max told your mom, “I would much rather hear childhood stories about her.” He turned his head, making himself able to look into your eyes, and you felt the dread spread. Despite the way he looked at you, it did nothing to calm you down, knowing your parents would not deliver what Max was expecting to be told about.

Max's genuine interest in hearing about your childhood seemed to momentarily disrupt the carefully choreographed performance. Your mother, however, skilfully manoeuvred to maintain the narrative she had meticulously constructed.

"Oh, Max, you're sweet," your mother said, offering a polite smile, "but Gabriella's achievements are the true highlights. She's always been the shining star of our family."

Your sister, seizing the opportunity, began to regale Max with tales of her academic triumphs, artistic pursuits, and social accomplishments. As she spoke, you felt the distance between you and Max widen, a chasm fuelled by your parents' insistence on casting Gabriella as the focal point of the conversation.

Max, sensing the discomfort, tried to redirect the conversation toward a more inclusive narrative. "I'm sure there are some other stories you could tell, perhaps some that aren’t about Gabriell-?"

“Please Max, do call me Gabby.” Gabriella interrupted Max.

Your mother exchanged a knowing glance with your father before responding, "Oh, there are plenty of stories, but I think Gabriella's achievements are what make our family truly special. Don't you agree, Max?"

Max hesitated for a moment, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. However, not wanting to create a scene, he nodded uncomfortably, "Yes, I guess Gabriella is quite accomplished."

Gabriella shot you a coy smile, her triumph was evident in the subtle control she exerted over the narrative. As the conversation continued to revolve around her, Max's attempts to steer it in a different direction seemed to hit an invisible wall.

Your parents, seemingly oblivious to Max's growing discomfort, continued to extol Gabriella's virtues. The room buzzed with the clinking of silverware and the murmur of praise, all while you sat there, a silent observer of your own family dinner.

As dessert was served, Max couldn't hide the subtle tenseness in his shoulders. He glanced at you, a mix of empathy and frustration in his eyes. Despite the challenging circumstances, you appreciated his efforts to bridge the gap.

When Max tried to ask about your childhood again, your mother skilfully redirected the conversation. "Oh, Max, we can talk about that another time. Let's focus on the present moment and enjoy the evening."

Your sister, seizing every opportunity to keep the spotlight, interjected, "You know, Max, I've always been curious about your interests and aspirations. Tell us more about yourself."

The shift in attention to Max was noticeable, but it wasn't the genuine interest he had hoped for. Instead, it felt like another tactic to steer the conversation away from you. Max, his patience waning, briefly shared short anecdotes about his work, nothing he hadn’t already told to the media. However, his eyes kept returning to you, his fingers intertwined with you. As though you were oblivious to the way your sister's feet – under the table – were trying to urge Max to look at her. 

The night wore on, and Max's frustration continued to build, a silent storm brewing within him. The genuine smile he had worn upon arrival had now transformed into a tight-lipped expression, betraying his growing discontent.

Your dad had taken it upon himself to serve a glass of whiskey to him and Max, while your mother brought forth an array of finger foods and other light and savoury snacks. Your family settled around the nice fireplace in the big sitting room, it’s even more extravagant and opulent than the smaller parlour room you had tried to take refuge in earlier in the day. 

When your sister, seemingly oblivious to the tension, leaned closer to Max, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "You know, Max, we're so thrilled to have you here. It's not often we get such distinguished company." 

Max, no longer willing to play along, shifted uncomfortably on the beige couch. "Thank you for having me. It's been... quite an experience," he replied, his tone carrying a subtle edge.

Your father, still under the illusion that the evening had gone splendidly, raised his glass. "A toast! To family and new beginnings."

Max's frustration reached its peak as his eyes locked on your dad’s raised glass. Max abruptly stood up, the sound of him slamming his glass down echoing in the sudden silence. The tension in the room was palpable as he looked directly at your parents.

"I appreciate your hospitality, but I can't ignore the blatant disregard for your own daughter," he said, his voice measured but firm. "I came here hoping to learn more about her, but it seems the spotlight is reserved for someone else."

Gabriella's eyes widened in feigned innocence, a practised mask that Max wasn't buying. Your parents exchanged uneasy glances, finally sensing the budding cracks in their carefully constructed facade.

"I won't be a part of a charade that dismisses her existence," Max continued, his frustration now laid bare. "If you can't appreciate the amazing person she is, then I want no part in this. Goodnight."

Without waiting for a response, Max pulled you from the couch. As you both retreated from the sitting room, leaving behind the echoes of tension and shattered illusions, you felt a strange mixture of relief and sorrow.

Max led you through the ornate hallways of your family home, the grandeur of the surroundings now feeling suffocating. The air outside was cool and crisp as you stepped onto the front porch, the distant sounds of the night providing a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere within.

He turned to you, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect it to be like this."

You managed a small smile, appreciating his genuine intentions. "It's not your fault. Thank you for trying."

Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Your family... it's not what I expected."

You nodded, feeling a lump forming in your throat. "It's never been easy."

"Look, I don't know what's going on, but you deserve better than this," Max said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm here for you, no matter what."

As Max navigated the darkened streets, a palpable tension and heavy silence filled the car ride home between you and him. The glow of streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his determined expression, the lines of worry etched into his brow.

You sat beside him, lost in your thoughts, the events of the evening replaying in your mind like a broken record. The weight of the strained interactions with your family weighed heavily on your shoulders, a burden you couldn't shake.

Max glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, breaking the silence that had enveloped the car.

You sighed, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. "I don't know, Max. Tonight was… a lot. I’m sorry for Gabriella."

“They shouldn’t have said any of that.” Max ignored your comment, “that’s not- even I know that’s now how you treat family.”

“I’m sorry for Gabriella.” You tried to tell him once again, instead finding his hand reaching out to tangle it into yours. 

As Max's hand intertwined with yours, a comforting warmth spread through your fingertips, grounding you in the present moment. His touch was a lifeline, offering solace amidst the turmoil that had consumed your family gathering. You squeezed his hand gently, appreciating the silent support he offered.

Max pulled the car over, letting him turn to you and gaze into your eyes.

"I know you're sorry, love," Max whispered, his voice laced with understanding. "But you can't take responsibility for someone else's idiotic words. Gabriella's actions were uncalled for, and it's not your parents should have stopped it, not… Encouraged it."

His words resonated deep within you, reminding you that you were not solely accountable for the strained relationship with your parents. The weight on your shoulders began to lighten as if Max's presence alone could alleviate the burden.

You turned to him, finally meeting his concerned gaze. "Thank you, Max. Your support means the world to me."

He smiled softly, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. We'll get through this together, alright?"

A surge of gratitude washed over you, grateful for the unwavering love and understanding Max consistently provided. You squeezed his hand once more, as he pulled out of the ditch. 

The car continued to glide through the darkened streets, but the heavy silence had transformed into a comforting embrace of shared vulnerability.

As the glow of streetlights continued to cast fleeting shadows, you realised that it was in the darkest moments that the strength of your relationship with Max shone the brightest. And with his hand clasped firmly in yours, you knew that together, you could weather any storm or awful family dinner.

⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, sorry that it took so long to post this one

[vampireimiko]

pregnant reader x miguel o’hara: gabis first parent teacher conference and they’ve gotta explain why she keeps saying her dads gonna whoop the kids ass whenever they piss her off

parent teacher conference

warnings, none at all !! just like 1 cuss word or something 💀

note, THANK YEW FOR REQUESTING VENUS 🫶🏾🫶🏾, this is the longest oneshot ive ever made😭 anyway i hope you all enjoy !!

It's Parent Teacher Conference night, and Miguel finds himself sitting near the back of the auditorium to keep an eye on the meeting. There seems to be a bit of arguing between teachers and parents about the workload being too much for some students, when he senses a presence next to him and looks up to see that you, his wife, sits to his left, who is visibly pregnant and with her own plate filled with food.

"Oh my god- Miguel! This food is so good, do you want some?" You said, mouth full of a bit of everything on your plate. Miguel chuckled at your antics and shook his head no.

"As entertaining as this is" He says pointing towards the arguments in front of him, "I'm just ready to have our 1 on 1 with Gabriella's teacher."

You agreed with him, as you two had been sitting here for quite some time. But just like clockwork, Gabriella's teacher, Ms. Rose walked up to you and Miguel letting you know she was ready to have your conference.

Ms. Rose greeted you both with a warm smile, her eyes briefly glancing at your visibly pregnant belly before focusing on the matter at hand. "Thank you both for being here tonight! I appreciate your dedication to Gabriella's education."

You exchanged a nod and a smile, grateful for the teacher's acknowledgment. Miguel stepped forward, his voice filled with genuine interest. "We're looking forward to hearing about Gabriella's progress and any areas where we can support her better."

"Of course! Please if you could follow me to my classroom and we can get straight into discussing." With that being said, you and Miguel get up from the seats with him having to help you. It was getting hard for you stand up by yourself and you absolutely could not wait to have this baby out of you. Anyway enough of that, you and Miguel make your way too the classroom following behind Ms. Rose.

She opens the door and encourages you two to sit wherever. As you settled into the seats, she began sharing Gabriella's achievements and areas for improvement, providing a comprehensive overview of her academic journey.

The both of you listened to her intently, focusing on what Gabriella needed a bit more help on. You and Miguel took turns asking questions and clarification's on certain things. You could tell Ms. Rose genuinely cared about her students, taking the time to learn they're strengths and challenges.

"Now despite Gabriella being absolutely wonderful, there is one more thing I'd like to address." Ms Rose said switching her tone to a more serious one. You and Miguel looked at one another then back at her.

"Yes?"

"I've been overhearing Gabriella tell people that Mr. O'Hara here would come up to the school and in her words, 'whoop anybody who pisses me off'."

The both of your eyes widened. Miguel knew he said that, you know he said that, hell even the baby inside of you knew he said it! Not only did be say that, but he meant it aswell. Nobody is messing with his babygirl.

"Miguel!" You slapped his shoulder, putting on a serious front up in front of Ms. Rose, knowing damn well you wanted so badly to burst out laughing.

The room fell into an awkward silence as Ms. Rose observed the exchange between you, Miguel, and your shared reaction. Your attempt to maintain a serious demeanor in front of her was quickly crumbling as your suppressed laughter threatened to burst forth.

Miguel's face turned a shade of red, realizing the weight of his words and the potential consequences they might have had. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself, his eyes darting between you, Ms. Rose, and the floor.

"I-I apologize Ms. Rose. That was a misguided attempt at humor. I never intended for her to come to school and say something like that." He said rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Ms. Rose, her expression a mix of amusement and understanding, nodded. "I appreciate your honesty, Miguel. It's essential to address such statements to ensure a safe and inclusive environment for everyone."

You struggled to contain your laughter, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Taking a deep breath, you managed to compose yourself enough to speak without bursting into giggles. "Yes, Ms. Rose, we apologize for any confusion caused. We'll make sure to have a conversation with Gabriella about appropriate language and the importance of respectful interactions."

Ms. Rose's lips curved into a gentle smile. "I understand that children can sometimes pick up on our words and interpret them in unexpected ways. It's important for us as adults to model the behavior we want to see in them."

Fast foward to being done with the conference, you and Miguel were walking too the car. He stopped the both of you and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion as he leans down to your stomach.

"Just to let you know, that same statement in there goes for you too."

𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; 𝐖𝐎𝐎 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰 !! 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐢𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥) 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 !!

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

[feyhunter78]

Pink Pastels

Description: Single dad Miguel who replaced himself in a new universe meets his daughter's favorite teacher, you, who just happens to have a shitty boyfriend and doesn't yet know how much the O'Hara family wants you to stick around

Pt 2

I cracked y'all, and I blame TikTok

“Ms. Y/N, watch me, watch me!” Gabi calls, waving her arms in the air to catch your attention.

“I’m watching, go ahead.” You encourage her, smiling brightly when she does a successful cartwheel, her hair spilling from the loose braid one of her classmates had done for her during quiet reading.

You know teachers aren’t supposed to have favorite students, you tell each and every one of your students that you don’t have favorites, that you adore all of them equally. But Gabriella O’Hara holds a special place in your heart.

“Did you see, did you see?” She asks excitedly, running up to you, dark curls tumbling wildly around her shoulders.

You kneel down, and brush the hair back from her face, still smiling brightly. “I did, that was amazing, who taught you that?”

“My dad, he helped me practice.” She says, giving you a toothy grin, one front tooth missing from where she’d knocked it out eating an apple yesterday.

A tear-filled lunch that had been until you reminded her that now the Tooth Fairy would come visit her. The idea of a sparkly fairy leaving her money in exchange for her tooth dried her tears quickly, and soon enough she was proudly showing off her lost tooth (safely contained in a Ziploc bag) to anyone who would listen.

“Well, it seems like your dad is a very good teacher, then.” You say, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze before her friends dragged her back onto the playground.

You stood back up and rejoined the other first grade teachers.

“She’s adorable.” Janey says, nodding at Gabi who was playing tag with a few other girls.

Janey taught in the classroom next to yours. You started teaching at the same time, but she’d been hired at Steve Rodgers Elementary a year before you. Janey was the first friend you made when you got hired, and you soon became close friends inside and outside school.

“She’s so well-behaved, too; I wish I knew who her mom was, so I could thank her.” You say, a slight grimace on your face, when you watched two boys from your class begin to shove each other.

You called out to them, and they stopped, giving you guilty looks before running towards the swing sets.

“There’s no mom, she walked out on Gabi and her father after she was born.” Melissa says, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched her kids.

Melissa was a senior teacher at Rodgers Elementary. A tough love works the best teacher with the confidence of a god, and a nose for gossip like you couldn’t believe.

“Oh, that’s so sad.” You say, your heart hurting for the sweet little girl who always wanted to sit next to you during story time. Gabi had told you about her dad many times, but never mentioned her mom, you just assumed she was away for work often, or that they didn’t have many things in common.

You looked at Gabi, watching as she helped one of her friends tie their shoes. Sitting beside them and patiently demonstrating on her own sneakers. How could anyone walk away from her?

“It is, but her dad…he’s hot, I’ve seen him in the pickup line, he’s like a male model or something.” Melissa says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

You gave her an incredulous look. “Melissa! That’s a parent you’re talking about.”

She shrugs. “Hey, I’m married, I’m not gonna do anything, but one of you could.”

Janey turns her head to hide her laughter, and you smack her arm. “Janey, hitting on a child’s parent is wildly inappropriate, besides I have Todd.”

Melissa snorts, and you bite the inside of your cheek. Todd was not a popular man around the school, especially after what he pulled on your birthday.

The bell rings signaling the end of recess and your kids begin to line up, ending your conversation as the three of you are pulled in different directions.

There’s a knock at your door, and you look up from grading papers, to see Janey. “Hey y/n, Gabi’s father is here to see you?”

You shoot her a look of confusion and begin to tidy up your desk, then stand, smoothing out the wrinkles in your baby pink dress. “Oh, yeah, sure, let him in.”

Janey disappears, and the space is filled by a giant of a man. He towers over the desks, making them look even tinier than they already were. His shoulders are massive, his biceps you swear are bigger than your thighs, though you could be exaggerating, but you’re honestly not sure, and when he fixes those dark brown eyes on you, and suddenly the floor beneath you feels unsteady.

“Mr. O’Hara, how can I help you?” You manage to get out, motioning for him to take a seat in front of his desk.

“I’ll stand.” He says curtly. His voice is deep, settling in your bones, the faint whisper of an accent, and confidence behind his words makes you nervous for a moment, then you recognize the feeling, not nerves…something else, something much more inappropriate.

“Oh—okay, is there something you need, is Gabi okay?” You ask, realizing she isn’t in the classroom with him.

“She’s fine, just sitting outside with her book.” He explains, his eyes piercing straight through you.

“Margaret and Margarita, right? Your daughter an exceptional reader, in both English and Spanish, you should be very proud.” You say, giving him a smile, hoping the compliment will soften his expression and make it seem like he didn’t want to murder you.

Melissa was right, Mr. O’Hara was gorgeous. With a strong jawline, high cheekbones, a mess of thick dark hair, and perfectly formed lips, all tapering down to the body of an Adonis, clothed in a white button up that stretched across his broad chest, and black slacks that clung to his muscled legs like it was their job and rent was due next week. But his expression was flat, his eyes cold, his stance rigid.

“Why did you lie to my daughter?” He asks flatly, looking down at you, as if you were a bug on his windshield.

You blink up at him in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“You should be.”

An indignant expression flashed across your face before you could stop it, and you saw Mr. O’Hara’s lip twitch. “I’m not apologizing, I’m asking for clarification.”

“You told Gabi that the Tooth Fairy was going to visit her, I wasn’t going to do the Tooth Fairy , she doesn’t need false hope.” He snaps, leaning forward slightly, towering over you.

The hair on your arms stands up, but you brush it off as a stab of guilt goes through you. He was a single dad, maybe he couldn’t afford such frivolous traditions. “Mr. O’Hara, if this is a financial issue, I am so sorry. I should’ve tried to comfort her another way, my sincerest apologizes.”

“This isn’t a financial issu—comfort her?” He stops midsentence, his brows furrowing.

“She was upset because she lost her teeth, it’s her first one, a ton of kids get a little scared, but the promise of a reward usually clears those tears right up.” You tell him, holding your hands up in a pacifying way as you talk.

His eyes dart down to your hands, then back to your eyes, lingering for a moment on your lips. “I didn’t—Gabi didn’t tell me she was scared.”

“She was probably a little embarrassed. She talks all the time about how brave you are and how she wants to be just like you when she grows up.”

His expression softens.

“I actually—”you turn to rifle through your desk until you find Gabi’s latest assignment—“have something for you.”

He takes the paper from you, and you can’t help but notice how his hands dwarf yours, his tanned skin is scattered with small scars, and his calloused fingertips brush against yours. “What is this?”

“I had the kids draw a picture of their hero and then write a few sentences about why that person is their hero. I think she was one of a few who didn’t draw Spiderman.” You laugh softly.

He cradles the paper and a soft smile spreads across his face as he reads her writing under his breath. “Porque mi papá lucha contra los monstruos en mi armario.”

“I had to look that one up, my Spanish is terrible.” You admit sheepishly, watching as he reads her words over and over again.

“Thank you, for this, and for comforting Gabi.” He says, folding the paper carefully and sliding it in his pocket.

“Of course, I love Gabi, she’s such a pleasure to have in class.”

He looks at you, really looks at you, and you’re struck by how similar he and Gabi are. They have the same nose, the same almost curls that frame their faces, and when he tilts his head ever so slightly to the side you almost burst out laughing. You can’t count how many times you’ve seen Gabi do that exact same thing.

“You know Gabi talks a lot about you, how pretty you are, she was right.” His voice is low, smooth, and sends a jolt through you. Then he takes his leave, with you standing there stunned, wondering what the hell just happened to you.

Eternal Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir

[f1girliefics]

F1 Drivers Christmas Eve with You - Preferences

Max Verstappen/Daniel Ricciardo/Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri/Carlos Sainz/Charles Leclerc/George Russel/Lewis Hamilton/Yuki Tsunoda x Reader

A/N: Decided to include a lot more of the drivers for this special Christmas edition! I hope you all enjoy it! 

Max Verstappen

He would turn his romantic side ON.

He has the entire evening planned.

Romantic dinner at a nice restaurant, then you would go to his place to watch movies and exchange gifts.

Max is the kind to spend months prior to any event thinking about what to buy.

He wants to get a meaningful gift for you.

And let's be fair he would be happy with anything. Clothes? Yes. A new watch? Of course. Lego? Hell yeah.

He just wants to spend time with you.

Daniel Ricciardo

As soon as he saw your Christmas get-up he would be smiling. You got for the two of you matching Christmas sweatshirts.

He loved it.

This wouldn't be your first Christmas with Danny. But he would make it special each time.

This year, he planned on staying at his house, watch movies, play some games if you are up for it.

And you were.

Obviously.

It would be a Christmas Eve where your cheeks would start to hurt from all the smiling.

Lando Norris

He would invite you to dinner in one of his favourite restaurants. It had been the same you went to have your first date, so it was a special place in your heart.

He would have a simple beautiful necklace for you with the letter L as a charm on it with a simple gorgeous diamond.

He would say High School Musical inspired him since Gabriella had a T for Troy.

How cheesy, you loved it.

Oscar Piastri

It would be your first Christmas.

So, he would be nervous.

But you invited him over so, he would be EXTRA nervous.

You decorated your entire apartment and even cooked a nice simple meal.

He would praise your cooking as if you were a Michelin-star chef.

After dinner and presents, you two would watch The Grinch while cuddling on the couch with many snacks.

Carlos Sainz

Carlos would ask you to spend Christmas with his family, and who were you to say no?

If you speak Spanish, be prepared to have long conversations.

If not, fear not, his family would have no issue with talking to you, constantly yelling at Carlos to translate.

It would be a very sweet Christmas. And a rather loud one as well.

Charles Leclerc

He would try to impress you by any means.

You are not even surprised that his tree is all red... who could have guessed it?

Charles would buy so many gifts for you, that some wouldn't even fit under the tree.

Shoes, bags, jewellery and even a new phone.

He would ask for nothing in return.

But you would still give him gifts. Maybe not as expensive... okay definitely not as expensive.

He would hire a chef who would cook for you two.

After dinner, you wanted to watch Home Alone and he would shock you by saying he never saw it, so movie night it is.

George Russel

You two came to the decision that this year, you would plan your Christmas Eve. You invited him over to your place, decorated your home and got him many gifts. 

Not like he didn't have everything, but you still did.

If you can and agree to cook, he would be happy to eat your meal, if not, he would have no problem with some takeout.

Who knew fast food could look fancy on a plate on a table lit by candles?

His gift to you would be something you might have mentioned at one point. He is the kind of boyfriend to remember and give you exactly what you wish for.

Lewis Hamilton

Lewis would have the entire evening planned.

Of course, it would be at a fancy restaurant. It would be one of your favourites. You two agreed on no gifts because you two buy each other everything during the year anyway. So, a nice date will be enough.

And it really would be. 

Yuki Tsunoda

He would cook for you. Yuki decided to put his entire soul on a plate for you. And it is magnificent.

He is a great cook, so you can expect an amazing dinner before you exchange presents. 

His present for you would be something super meaningful. Something you had your eyes on for months. 

After the presents, you two would be on his couch, cuddling, laughing and having a great time.

Fernando Alonso

He would invite you over to his home, and cook some dinner for you himself.

It would be very special and romantic.

He would make you watch Spanish Christmas classics. 

Overall it would be a very romantic and cozy evening.

For a gift, he would give you something he knows you would love. He knows you very well, so he would give you exactly what you want without you having to mention it.

Lance Stroll

Let's be fair he would ask for you to go to his family's house for Christmas.

As for your gift, he would buy you anything you name or don't.

To him, the more it cost, the better the item.

So, he would be shocked when your favourite would be a pair of earrings.

And you would have a great time with his family, but you did learn that his father likes to take Monopoly a little too seriously.

[weebsinstash]

As much as I want to have children by this man, let's take a moment to sip our platonic yandere Miguel juice

-i can't decide which sex he'd be more partial to in a 'child'/you since in the movie there was Gabriella but in the comics he eventually has a son who becomes the next Spiderman but--

-as a girl i just naturally think of a lot of those sorts of gender specific ideas 👉👈 he's this big scary hulking intimidating threat and his "daughter" is the one melting his cold exterior

-doesnt matter if you're a grown ass woman, Miguel sees you struggling to braid your hair and suddenly here he is, full dad mode, doing it for you,and depending on how close you two are, maybe he disguises it with "ugh, stop spending so much time messing around with that. If I do it for you will you get back to work? 🙄", but really it's just your new self proclaimed dad/tio wanting to help braid your hair and help you feel pretty and, oh, how he can fondly remember the last time he helped braid "his daughter's" hair...

-of course this evolves to him just loving to do things with your hair. Braid it, wear it natural, style it, use products on it, hes got you. you were just trying to put your hair in a lazy updo like a ponytail or bun and this man doesn't let you leave until he's got you completely combed out, hair braided with ribbons, and of course this entire time youre awkwardly sitting there in a chair in his absolute cave of a workstation with this gargantuan 6'9 man there, "so how was your day? Staying out of trouble?"

-really I mean. Is stealing other people's kids NOT technically in character for him. You're unfortunate enough to trauma bond with this man and you're never getting rid of him

-you hear Miles Morales call him tio (as in the tio meaning dude) and you jokingly teasingly start calling him tio, which Miguel secretly pretends is the version that means uncle. You're just constantly joking around or looking up at him with these big pouty eyes, "but tio 🥺 can't I PLEASE--" and its like. Lmao people know that if they need to ask Miguel for a favor, that it increases their chances to have you ask in their stead

- I mean, as a female adult abused as a child by my own father, raised by a single mom myself, like...

Reader flinches away when Peter B goes to give you a supportive pat on the back or comes in for a high five after a mission and you force yourself to laugh because you're feeling more than just a little awkward and in the spotlight. "Oh, sorry, that was dumb!" And they eventually get you to kind of anxiously word vomit "my dad used to just kind of, rough me up sometimes when I did something wrong! It-it could've been a lot worse honestly, but, it-it just makes me kinda jumpy around guys sometimes! It's not a big deal, or personal or anything. I'm sorry if I made you feel bad 🥺"

Peter B, Jessica, and Miguel all there as older parental figures and also literal parents, immediately exchange looks and agree like "oh hell naw, don't like that" and you get silently adopted by all three of em right then and there

-if it's a physically abusive father and you're still the victim of abuse, I imagine your dad had some suspicious figures suddenly show up in the middle of the night to terrify and threaten the shit out of him and suddenly you aren't getting as manhandled anymore

-can you imagine, like, you show up to Spider Society one day with a black eye "oh, this? It's, it's nothing. My dad is just, he's about to make police captain and he's really stressed about it is all" cue all your friends mentally high fiving around the table because your abusive piece of shit dad is going to die and you don't even know. When it happens they'll all be "oh no, sweetie, I'm SOOOO sorry :(" meanwhile they're thrilled bc now you don't have any parents and they can weasel in there as your new family, schedule your birthday parties, monopolizing more of your time, things like that

-goddd I just imagine it could become some kind of weird fucked up enmeshed scenario where the structure it's providing for your life is actually good for you meanwhile Miguel is like, retroactively kind of soothing some of his trauma both from his own childhood and what happened with the second universe he broke that it's just like. You're a grown ass adult and this man is tucking you in goodnight and saying "te amo, mija" at the doorway and you bet his ass is going to stand there and not let you sleep until you say it back. He knows you're just absolutely seething at him and he'll still refuse to leave without a grumbling "te amo, papá 🙄"

-He eventually just has you doing so much shit and depending on him so much that it starts to become second nature to you. one day you're in the Society doing one of the odd jobs you're allowed to help with and suddenly you're thinking, "Ugh I actually don't know what to do next, I wish Papá was here to-- WAIT SHIT NO I MEAN MIGUEL--"

-lmaooooo as a non Spanish speaker I keep thinking of how awwwwwful it would be if he actually forces you to learn Spanish. Not inherently because there's anything wrong with Spanish, but, I'm not always smart, and I can just SEE him quizzing your ass, forcing you to have entire conversations in Spanish, always clicking his tongue or chuckling at you when you make a mistake and he just thinks you're so cute struggling to learn 🥰 man hears you're trying to take extra lessons from Miles and he instantly drops everything he's doing to go track the little scamp down. Insert meme "I can forgive being an anomaly but I draw the line at teaching Reader bad Spanish"

-siiiiiiigh eventually the day comes when you're in big danger and you need his help, maybe you disobeyed him and was hanging out with some other Spiders in another dimension when there was a sudden villain attack, and he comes to your rescue as a villain does something dramatic like has a gun to your head or a knife to your neck and the second you see him you're just overwhelmed wirh a sense of relief, calling out for him, calling him dad/tio/papá whatever, and he's just like 😭❤️ pumping his fist internally, like YES you are so grounded when you get back home but also 🥰 you finally called him dad without him having to twist your arm 🥰 nevermind if the "villain" who kidnapped you was actually a Spider who owed him a favor, and this whole thing was to teach you a lesson about listening to your Papá, that's not important ❤️

-Miguel who forces you to learn Spanish vs Miguel who forces you to be Catholic. I can excuse kidnapping and forced adoption but I draw the line at making me practice religion 💀 no but seriously, he probably does have certain morals and values he instills/forces upon you if he thinks you need them, and he'll probably be one of those fathers, "are you leaving the house dressed like that? Go change" and orders you not to hang out with certain people he doesn't approve of or thinks have bad character (like hobie lmao)

-bruh you two will be on a super serious important mission and this man will be like "it's dark, hold my hand so we dont get separated"

Eventually it comes to a point where you're, not perfectly behaved but, just about. If someone finds Miguel, it means you're not very far away, or vice versa. Members of the Society quickly learn not to make any advances on you or make any "adult" comments unless they want to get suspiciously hurt during a personal training session by the big boss himself. You think you're safe just cause Miguel isn't around? Nah, cause then you have Peter B and Jess keeping an eye on you, and, not that YOU'RE aware of the extent, but, if Miguel ever gets worried, he can just ask Lyla what you've been getting up to, since your modified little daypass has her installed into it and she can track your every move ❤️ helicopter parent? Oh honey, you have NO idea...

[mando-fando]

The Other Man

Okay, here's my FIRST FIC in ages. I wrote it in a very specific style bc of the ~vibe~

Hope you like it!

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Wife!Reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: smut, established relationship, (idk if there's more pls tell me?)

The love story of Mr. and Mrs. O’Hara

OR

You’re Gabriella’s mother and Miguel’s wife. A few weeks ago, things were a little off with your husband; you wrote it off until now…

Your heart pounded in your chest as you set a timer on your phone and waited. You thought of your darling daughter, and her bubbly, beautiful personality. You thought of your family, and how arguably perfect your life was thanks to your husband’s dedication and tenacity. 

You were panicking, on the verge of tears as the timer silently counted down on your phone screen. You thought of your husband. Your real husband. 

13yearsago

Miguel was the first person you’d met at your college orientation. A tall lanky kid who stepped onto the campus tour bus at the last minute and had nowhere to sit but next to you. You felt yourself fall for him instantly when his eyes met your own. 

You both chatted awkwardly like teenagers do; you mentioned your majors (he was genetics and you were communications), you talked about your high schools, your friends, and anything else your distracted minds could come up with. 

You mentioned that science wasn’t your strong suit, and Miguel suggested taking a science class together so he could be your lab partner. You settled on chemistry, and looked forward to starting classes in the fall. 

You exchanged numbers and texted through the rest of the summer. By the time the semester started, you were attached at the hip. 

The week that you moved into the dorms, he brought you a bouquet of carnations (you were allergic to roses) and asked you to be his girlfriend right in front of everyone. You said yes with bright pink cheeks. 

That night, when all the new freshmen were out enjoying welcoming activities, you and Miguel lost your virginities to each other with soft music playing in the background. You’d heard from your friends that the first time was awful, but you two were slow with each other. You knew you’d chosen the right guy, and you couldn’t imagine sharing the experience with anyone else.

It rained on the first day of classes. Torrential downpour, and you walked into the library together soaked and giggling to take a picture in front of your school’s “Welcome Freshmen!” backdrop. 

That photo was framed and hanging above your bed like many others you’d taken over the years. 

The chemistry class was hard. Your hardest class by far, but Miguel was there with you every week. He came over to your dorm after the lab to explain everything in detail as many times as you needed. He’d stay late and you’d share cheap pizza and watch movies. 

Your friends started calling you Mrs. O’Hara long before you were actually married. You two were the one constant couple among them. You and Miguel would go for ice cream with them after every fresh heartbreak. You reminded them that love exists because you two had it. They’d always lick their wounds and get back out there, thanking you both for your encouragement. 

When sophomore year rolled around, your parents offered to rent you an apartment. You begged for them to let Miguel live with you (they loved him of course), and, to your surprise, they said yes.

In between classes, you and Miguel lived in domestic bliss. You had no idea that building furniture, grocery shopping late at night, and decorating could be so fun. He made it so much more enjoyable. 

You learned so much about him, sometimes swearing that you knew him better than you knew yourself. You loved how his brow twitched in his sleep, and you loved how he was considerate enough to cover your face with the blanket before he turned on the bedroom light. He made your heart melt every single day, and you couldn’t imagine loving someone more. 

You stayed up late on Sundays with him and proofread his papers. He was brilliant, but he couldn’t string together a sentence on paper to save his life. 

“Do you even know what a comma is!?” You’d asked as you aggressively hit the backspace button on his laptop. 

“Do you know what an autosome is?” He replied in a sarcastic voice, ruffling your hair. (he always ruffled your hair.) 

You rolled your eyes and finished proofreading his paper. After he submitted it, he closed both of your laptops and bent you over the table. Your pajama pants were around your ankles as you moaned into the cheap veneer. 

Miguel fucked you on every surface in that apartment: the shower, bent over the counters and the table, against the wall, on the floor. It was your space together, and he was ready to claim the 600 sqft and your body for himself. 

God, you missed that apartment. 

A year later, you took your first vacation alone together to Mexico. You’d never been, but he’d gone a few times when he was younger. You felt secure with him as he easily switched between English and Spanish, and you listened intently as he showed you the places that he remembered visiting years prior. 

You walked along the beach, hand in hand watching the sunset. He was explaining something about the tides, and you smiled wide at him and then looked at the pinky-purple sky. 

When you looked back, he was on one knee with a ring box. You swear your heart stopped for a moment. 

“Yes! Are you kidding me!? Yes!” you nearly screeched at the top of your lungs. He swung you around and dipped you into a kiss. It felt like a scene from a movie. (The only thing he hadn’t thought of was a photographer, but some passersby took a few candid photos and sent them to you.) 

A year later, you graduated in May and had your wedding in June. The wedding felt like something out of a fairytale. 

Your mother had been insistent on every last detail being perfect, and you were so grateful for her meticulousness as you walked down the aisle. The sun was beginning to set as you said your vows, and you nearly died of embarrassment when he tore your garter off with his teeth in front of everyone. 

Now, Miguel was your husband.

Your husband whose eyes were brimming with tears as you walked down the aisle.

Your husband who hugged your parents as if they were his own. 

Your husband who looked at you as if you hung the moon. 

Your husband.

A few months later, you started your first job and Miguel started grad school. 

You’d come home in your blazers and slacks and heels, and he’d give you a particular look. 

“What are you looking at?” You asked one day while making dinner. 

“Nothing, I just think it’s hot that I’m married to a sexy businesswoman,” he grinned. 

He especially loved when you wore tights and that little black dress. (He usually tore them off of you when you got home and promised to buy you new ones.) 

Six months into your new job, you called in sick. 

“Are you alright?” he sat on your side of the bed and pet your hair gently. 

“I just feel so nauseous. It must be something I ate. Do you feel nauseous?” 

He shook his head. “Do you want me to get you anything? I could stay home from classes to take care of you.” 

“No, school is first. I’ll be okay.” you squeezed his hand. 

He kissed you on the forehead and left you a glass of water on your nightstand. 

After throwing up the contents of your stomach twice over, a thought crossed your mind. 

You ran to the store and picked up two pregnancy tests. 

You practically ripped them out of their boxes in your bathroom. 

You sat and waited, worrying about what your husband would say. 

In both of your minds, kids were still years away. 

The pink plus signs on both tests brought you to the harsh reality that those plans were no longer relevant. 

Your mind flooded with worry. You were a newbie at your job, you hadn’t even been married for a year, Miguel had so much school left. 

You spent the afternoon drowning in your anxiety. 

“Amor, I brought you that soup that you like.” Miguel called from the living room. He found you in your bedroom with a tear-stained, puffy face. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

You turned around and showed him the tests. “What are we going to do?!” you cried. You searched his face, waiting to see his brow crease with worry just like yours. 

Instead, he beamed. His face lit up brighter than the sun, and you felt every awful scenario that you’d tortured yourself with melt away at his excitement. He hugged you without saying a word, one of his amazing bear hugs that he knew always made you feel better. You petted his hair, and you knew everything was going to be just fine. 

He pulled back from you and you saw tears sliding down his face. “This is amazing,” he whispered. 

You kissed his cheek and hugged him again. 

“Yeah, it really is, huh?” you whispered back. 

There was no better word for your pregnancy than miserable. Your morning sickness lasted longer than the first trimester, and despite being young, you experienced health issue after health issue. 

You were bedridden for the last few months of pregnancy, but your husband made it all better. 

Your husband who somehow had boundless energy when you had none. Your husband who nearly tripled his class load to graduate early. 

Your husband who held your hair back as you emptied the breakfast he made you into the toilet. 

Your husband who put on over 100 pounds of muscle so he could ‘be strong enough for the baby.’ 

Your husband whom you somehow fell even more in love with, which you didn’t even think was possible. 

He received his master’s degree in May. You felt enormous, but you begged him to let you take him out to celebrate. 

Your water broke in the restaurant. 

He rushed you out, you’re not even sure if you paid for the food. He drove you to the hospital as you squeezed his hand with all your might and swore at him. 

After making it to the hospital in record time, your doctors looked at you sympathetically. 

Of course, after an extremely rough pregnancy, you were going to have a rough delivery too. 

Hours and hours of labor and deliberating. Hours of worry and discontentment. Hours of pain and exhaustion. 

Everyone eventually decided that a c-section was the way to go. You stared up at the ceiling as your body was being sliced and poked and prodded, and your husband held your hand and gave you words of encouragement. 

A loud cry broke through your anxious thoughts. The entire world stopped.

“Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. O’Hara, it’s a girl; 10 fingers and 10 toes and a great head of hair!” the doctor plopped her on your chest. 

In that moment, you three were the only ones in the entire universe. Your baby, your husband, and you. Nothing had ever been more perfect. 

Hours later, after you’d gotten some much needed rest and food, you both gazed down at her sleeping face. “We never even had time to talk about names,” Miguel whispered. He ran a gentle finger over her tiny little hand. Your heart swelled for him even more. 

“I was thinking…” you started, “Maybe we could name her Gabriella, after your brother?” 

You heard him gasp quietly. You began to open your mouth to suggest something else. “It’s perfect. She looks like a Gabriella, don’t you think?” he never took his eyes off of her. 

“She looks like an O’Hara,” you chuckled. “Of course, she lived in my body for 9 months and came out looking like you.” 

Despite all the trouble she gave you during your pregnancy, Gabriella was such an easy baby. She slept through the night, she was easy to feed, and she was always content to sit with you. 

Those first few weeks of parenthood were surreal. You and Miguel would simply stare at her for hours, unsure how you made such a precious, perfect thing. She mesmerized the both of you. 

One evening, you were making dinner while Miguel fed her. His phone rang, and you overheard him in the living room. 

“Yes, I’d be happy to accept the offer! You have no idea what this means for my family, thank you so much.” 

He’d gotten a job at Alchemax. A fancy, well-paying job in his field. 

“You know, I’ll be making enough that you can stay home with Gabi if you want,” he said after you’d put her to bed. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with that? I can go back to work when my maternity leave is up - my parents offered to watch her during the day.” 

He pulled you close, “I want you to get to spend time with our daughter. I want you to raise her, no offense to your parents.” 

And so you did. 

The time flew by. You two bought a house close to your parents, he bought you a new car for your birthday, and all of the sudden, your daughter was turning one. 

Your house was filled with friends from college (many now with their own spouses), relatives, and friends from Miguel’s new job and your old one. 

You all watched as Gabriella smashed a white cupcake straight into her thick black hair. You and your husband sat together with your bubbly baby girl and opened present after present, making a mess of the wrapping paper. 

Suddenly, time was moving even faster. Preschool, kindergarten, soccer practice, family vacations. Miguel had the biggest soft spot for your daughter. 

Watching him be a parent made your heart grow ten times bigger. He woke up before the sun rose every day so he could be home to put her to bed every night. 

He read to her, he answered every question she had and never discounted her curiosity. 

He made it to every practice and soccer game, and took the whole team out for ice cream periodically. 

He let you sleep in late on Sundays and made pancakes and coffee. 

He was perfect. There was no other way to describe it. 

Suddenly, your daughter was 8 years old. She was constantly outgrowing her clothes, reading voraciously, and performing well in school. Her teachers and coaches praised your parenting to no end. You and Miguel smiled, “She’s just the most amazing kid.” 

You felt on top of the moon. You couldn’t believe that you’d stressed so much all those years ago in that little apartment when you’d seen the positive pregnancy test. 

Everything seemed right with the world. At least until a few weeks ago. 

Your husband wasn’t home yet. You checked your phone incessantly, but you never received a call or text.  

You got through bedtime with your daughter. She asked  three different times where her father was. 

After she was sound asleep, you began to get worried. You called his phone again and he didn’t answer. 

A sickly feeling bubbled in your gut. Not the churning anxiety that you’d felt so many times before, this was different. This felt like intuition. Something was terribly wrong. 

You texted everyone you knew asking if they had heard from him. You called the businesses that you thought he could be at. No one. It was like he had fallen off the face of the Earth. 

Just after 2am, you considered calling the police. As you began to dial, you heard a key turn in the lock. 

He walked in looking disheveled. You ran over to him and jumped into his arms. 

“I was so worried! Where were you!?” you squeezed him tight around his neck. 

“I’m sorry, we got caught up in a chem testing sequence. I’m not supposed to tell anyone about the project, so that’s why they said I wasn’t there.” He kissed your cheek and squeezed you. 

“You smell weird,” you said. He had such a distinct smell, a combination of the laundry detergent you used, his cologne, and his deodorant. He smelled all wrong for some reason. 

He looked you in the eyes and smiled. You’d never noticed how his smile was just the slightest bit crooked. 

“Let’s take a shower, amor.” He set you back on your feet. “I want to go take a peek at Gabriella, though. I’ll meet you in the bathroom,” he kissed you on the forehead and made his way to her room. 

You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something was off about your husband that evening. At first, you blamed his late night. He claimed that his workload in the lab was increasing, but something still didn’t sit quite right with you. 

You’d stare at him out of the corner of your eye, not sure what you were hoping to see. 

He’d found a new interest in your sex life, as well. He pawed at you in your sleep and pressed your cheek up against the shower door late at night. He seemed like he was learning your body all over again. 

In some ways, he was the man you married. He still threw himself into parenting your daughter. He still made it to every soccer practice and game, still read to her every night. 

But you knew something was wrong. 

Your best guess was that he was cheating, but it seemed so out of character for him. Still, you had nothing else. 

He came home late again and found you sitting in the bedroom with your bedside lamp on. “You’re still up?” he asked. 

“What the hell is going on with you?” You demanded.

His brows knitted together in a confused look, “What do you mean?” 

“Are you cheating on me, Miguel?” 

“Amor, I would ne-”

“Then what is it?” Your voice was low with suspicion. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” He sat next to you and leaned in close. 

“I don’t know what it is, Miguel. But something’s not right. I know you, and I know there’s something you’re not telling me.” You flipped the light off and pulled the covers up. 

“I love you, honey. Nothing’s wrong, I promise,” he said in the darkness. 

“Whatever, Miguel. I’m going to sleep,” you turned away from him and shut your eyes. 

The timer on your phone went off. 

You thought again about your husband. 

Your husband who brought you roses yesterday. 

Your husband who couldn’t remember what size jersey your daughter wears. 

Your husband who’d had a vasectomy 5 years ago. 

You stared at the positive pregnancy test and sobbed. 

[thebettybook]

A mini fic in Lyla’s P.O.V. from a scene in my “(Chapter 2) A Spin on an Enchanted Tale”

As you giggled and chatted with Gabriella before Lyla would take her to school, Lyla took in the exchange. She stood next to Miguel, the two of them a few feet away from you and Gabi.

“I like Y/N,” Lyla loudly whispered to Miguel, nudging his arm with her elbow. “They’re good with Gabi…and they could be good for you, too.”

Miguel’s head snapped towards Lyla, his thick eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

“You know exactly what I mean by that,” Lyla shot him a knowing look as she rested her hands on her hips.

Sure, Lyla had just met you only minutes ago, but she could tell you were a good person. While Miguel always told Lyla that he didn’t need a partner to raise Gabi and that he was perfectly fine with being a single parent, Lyla saw how being a single parent and running his own company took a toll on Miguel.

Most days Miguel barely slept, and Lyla didn’t miss the astonishing development that was the lack of eye bags under his eyes the moment she saw Miguel descend the staircase earlier.

Lyla couldn’t remember the last time she saw Miguel look so well-rested (maybe more than half a decade ago??) and something told her that this new development probably had something to do with a certain “princess.”

Maybe you could be good for Miguel, or maybe Lyla just liked being nosy about Miguel’s love life (or lack thereof).

Before Lyla could suggest to Miguel that he could try to get to know you better, she caught Miguel’s eyes fluttering shut in annoyance once he realized what she was getting at.

“Out,” Miguel gritted his teeth, though his word held no bite towards Lyla as he shooed her to the elevator.

She simply cracked a devilish smirk on her face as she made her way into the elevator and looked at Miguel and then at you.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose at Lyla’s suggestion. His eyes reopened, but instead of directing his gaze to Lyla, Miguel directed his gaze to you and Gabi.

You had said something that made Gabi adorably laugh, and Lyla didn’t miss the way the lines around Miguel’s eyes softened in the tiniest of ways.

Lyla couldn’t wait to see what would happen next.

Tag list: @animusicnerd, @allysunny, @charms-cat, @tymns, @tayleighuh, @moyo5653, @sizeablysized, @deputy-videogamer, @marvelofcourse, @flordelalunas, @thethirdyo, @sleepingghoule444, @eyes-stuff, @pearlssdiary, @lasagnaisbest, @scaleniusrm, @cowboylikeevie, @qiaipia, @prettysbliss, @rosesforblues, @lionhearted-soldier, @usermins, @happishark, @pedroslvt, @saintcosette, @tarjapearce, @rositabluemoon, @miaasmf, @sarapaprikas-blog, @honeyslibrary, @eatalyy, @arithestrawberry, @x-ratedhimbo, @spideystar, @pollito-chicken, @mimiemie, @mireading, @obsessedwithromance, @amelialysm, @razertail18, @loonalockley, @chshiresins, @sassypotatomoose

[stunningsturns]

OMGG you know in highschool musical when troys dad sees troy and gabriella on the court together and their being super cute and flirty ?! pls write something like that

༉‧₊˚. On the Court

pairing: Soft!Chris x Volleyball Player reader. warnings: none! word count: summary: Chris and Y/n play volleyball together, and the coach is Y/n's dad. Little do they know; he pays close attention to both of them, and they begin flirting on the court. authors note: I added my own little twist to this! I hope you love this!! :)

I arrived at the court for the game. I took a good look at the court, seeing as I will be playing here. My dad comes up behind me, patting me on the head. “Are you ready for the game y/n? I know you have it in the bag.” He whooped. I giggle at his enthusiasm, “Yeah! I am ready for the game.” I grinned. “The rest of the team should be here shortly. I will be at the hotel across the street, so just call me if you need me.” He replied. I nod my head, and my Dad walks away leaving me alone in the court. I decided I am gonna work on my dolphin dives, I go over to my phone and begin playing my favorite song, “Back to You” by Selena Gomez. I put on my knee pads and throw the volleyball up and dive. Little did I know, someone was watching me. A figure appeared behind me and a familiar voice spoke up, “Nice form.” Chris commented. I immediately stop and turn around. He giggles, wrapping a hand around my waist and pulling me into a tight hug. “I missed you.” He exhaled. I blush softly, “I missed you too.” I cooed. His cologne flowing into my mouth making me want to hold him longer. He pulls away for me, “That was a long hug.” He giggles. I smile, “Well, I haven’t been able to hug you because of my Dad, remember?” I replied. He nods his head in agreement, “Yeah, well the rest of the team should be here so, don’t flirt with me.” He jokes, I giggle “I know what you mean, haha.” He smiles, “Let’s warm-up?” I nod.

** TIME SKIP **

The game had begun, our server Raleigh served the ball, the opposing team hit it back on our side and it almost reached the floor before I swooped in and hit it back up in the air for Chris to hit over the net. He spiked the ball over the net and it hit the floor, meaning we got a point. The scoreboard lit up, ‘1-0’ He high-fived me. 

Later on, the score was ‘24-24’ This was the point determining who won. We had to win this, we exchanged glances and boom, the game had started back up again. The ball was in the air, one of my teammates hit it but it didn’t go over the net, so I swooped in once again and hit it up and Chris spiked it. The ball hit the floor, meaning we won. Chris ran up to me and picked me up. He kisses my cheek, “We did it!” He whispers in my ear. I smile, “Yeah! We did.” Chris puts me down as my dad approaches, “What was that all about?” My dad questions.

Taglist: @hysteria-things @stellarsturns @lightningsturvn @sturniozo @notariverdaleacctanymore @tillies33ssss @maggieflms

[lavendertales]

SEÑORITA: Chapter 3

pairing: Javier Peña x Murphy!f!reader

summary: dinner at Steve & Connie's new apartment goes a little south as tension runs high between you and your brother—as well as between you and Javier.

word count: 4.4k

series warnings: reluctant friends to lovers, lots of playful banter, mutual pining, slow burn, secret relationship, filthy smut.

series masterlist | AO3

Javier had underestimated New York by all accounts. He knew it was a huge city, but the nickname “the city that never sleeps” somehow evaded him till he actually moved in here a few weeks ago. The constant lights, people everywhere, the noise… it all contributed to unwelcomed flashbacks for Javier, which meant that some nights he laid wide awake in his bed, too afraid to close his eyes.

He doesn’t want to see the bodies of those he had failed.

So instead, he thinks of Steve and Connie and their daughter, starting out fresh in the United States like Colombia’s hell hadn’t followed them, like it doesn’t still haunt them. He thinks of how they’re a family, united through love and support, and he thinks of you.

Rather, he thinks of your strained relationship with Steve, and he grimaces.

Javier tries to imagine a younger Steve being bossed around by his little sister and surprisingly, he has to suppress a chuckle. Quite a funny imagery, Javier decides as he roams around his kitchen at the crack of dawn, scrambling to make some toast and a cup of black coffee. It grows even funnier when he recalls Steve’s exact words about you: “growing up, even if she’s my little sister, she’s the one who bullied me”.

The smile that breaks from his lips remains amused for a little while as his dry breakfast is in the making. It only fades when his thoughts go into a rather surprising—and frankly forbidden area.

Though he begs his mind to oblige to basic commands and envision other things, Javier still falls victim to thoughts of you exchanging glares with so-called bad boys, batting your eyelashes at them and smiling, revealing enough cleavage only to tease, never to give the full taste.

And when he remembers that you live right below him, probably still asleep at this early hour, Javier clears his throat and takes the first bite of toast. He swallows with difficulty, even more so as he recalls the way your hand practically slid inside his pants, hectic and yet so calculated, with cat-like precision and without a care in the world as to how or if that may affect him.

Stop, he shushes his spinning mind.

He reckons this is happening because… well… it’s been a while. Fourteen months, to be exact. Last he shared some intimacy with someone was back in Cali with Gabriella, and it had been, as usual, something quick to take the edge off and satiate the body’s primal need, and they both called it a night. Then things went a bit south and next thing he knew, he packed up his things and returned to his pop’s ranch. And upon his pop’s repeated request, he spoke with Steve and they both agreed on taking this job in New York.

It’s unusual for Javier to be celibate for this long, but in the past year he’s come to realize that all of his encounters with women, while direct and straight to the point, have been meaningless—almost. It was never about having a relationship in the midst of a drug war; that much was clear from the get-go. And Javier never let any of the women he’d seen believe otherwise, less so himself. He wasn’t foolish enough to hope or even want a relationship, not after the things he’d seen and not after almost getting married for all the wrong reasons.

Almost. The word seems to haunt him as much as Colombia itself does.

He’s still not convinced he’d be a good partner to someone. So perhaps celibacy might be good for him. He could take this time to reflect more on himself and grow as a better man. He doesn’t really mind it, though.

When he’s getting in Steve’s car at 7 am sharp, he’s in a good, clear headspace. Especially because he’d hate to have his best friend know that he was thinking of his little sister less than an hour ago. Hell, even Javier doesn’t want to think about that.

But there’s no harm to wonder about someone, right? His thoughts hadn’t been depraved or resembling interest. He was simply being curious about who you are as a person.

“You doing okay today?” Steve asks.

“Peachy. Why?”

“I don’t know. You seem kinda deep in thought.”

“Didn’t get enough sleep to be buried deep in thoughts.”

Steve chuckles, focused on the road. “How’s my sister doin’?”

“The fuck you askin’ me about your sister, how should I know?”

“I figured since you live in the same building you guys see each other on the daily.”

Javier immediately shakes his head, exhausted already from the conversation.

“Don’t do this, man,” he warns Steve. “Don’t even think about it.”

“About what? I didn’t insinuate anything.”

“You were about to. I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. I got no plans to mess with your sister and she’s not even the kind of girl I’d date. I’m steering clear of her, and we both got lives of our own, different schedules.”

“It’s all cool. I just figured you spoke more with her.”

Javier frowns. “You haven’t talked to her lately?”

“No, no, we have. Just… I don’t know, I guess I just assumed things would naturally pick up between us.”

“It’s not gonna be magically okay between you two. It’s been years, and it takes effort and time. But I’m sure you’ll—patch things up.”

“Thanks, man. Sorry if I seemed suspicious.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.”

Steve falters and Javier does take notice, but he doesn’t give him a hard time about it.

“Speaking of patching things up… our apartment’s ready, so Connie suggested we invite you both to dinner.”

“Sounds nice. When?”

“How about tonight?”

“Uh—yeah, sure.”

“Can you tell my sister too? Since—you know, you live in the same—“

“Why don’t you tell her yourself? Just call her and invite her.”

As he glances to the driver’s seat, Javier finally notices how nervous his friend looks.

“Why are you nervous?” he asks Steve. “You’re siblings for fuck’s sake.”

To which his friend shrugs, letting a heavy sigh along with it. “I did some mistakes in the past trying to look after her and I… I want us to be friends again.”

“I don’t think removing any male presence from her life is the solution.”

“Probably isn’t, yeah.”

“Probably?”

Both burst into laughter right as Steve parks in front of the precinct.

“You know I don’t actually think all that shit about you,” he tells Javier. “That you’re a womanizer and you mess with every woman you meet. I know you never mistreated any of the girls you were seeing, in any sort of way, and I know you wouldn’t do that to my sister.”

“I wouldn’t. That is, you know, if I’d actually date your sister. Which I won’t.”

“Yeah I know, she’s far from the women you normally—see.”

Javier unknowingly holds his breath, then releases it slowly and steadily, as to not give away the fact that the mention of dating and you in the same sentence requires deep breaths. It shouldn’t, really, but somehow knowing that Steve kindly asked him to stay away from his flesh and blood…

Yeah, maybe some deep breaths are required in order to forget the fact that he thought of you bright and early this morning, handling him like he was nothing but a piece of clay.

But his thoughts weren’t depraved to begin with, so he’s safe. It was simple curiosity.

“So tonight, what time?” Javier inquires instead.

“Seven.”

“Alright.”

Javier gets through the day’s tasks with little to no exertion. He keeps quieter than usual, which luckily none of his colleagues or superiors notice because no one’s taking the time to know anyone personally, and today he is grateful for that.

So for the rest of the day he wonders about the kind of atmosphere that will await him once he sets foot inside Steve and Connie’s apartment. He knows them together and separately, and he vaguely knows you, but he has no clue what to expect from being under the same roof as the three of you. And frankly, he’s not really sure what to expect out of you, either. Probably just—the unexpected. He’s had a basic, mere taste of what you are like and you seem like a lot to handle. Combined with Steve’s obsessive need to be protective over you?

Yeah, tonight should be fun as hell.

He buys a bottle of white wine regardless and rings the door at the freshly renovated apartment at 7:07 p.m. Steve opens the door, smiling rather cordially than out of friendliness, so Javier’s eyes shot straight to Olivia cooing in his arms.

“Fair warning, Connie’s all wired because of tonight,” he mutters. “So if you hear some sharp commands… don’t question it.”

“It’s just a housewarming dinner.”

“Yeah… I wouldn’t tell that to her. Come on in.”

Javier stifles a mocking sound, so he playfully pinches Olivia’s little elbow instead, to which she giggles and hides in Steve’s shoulder.

“See? All the girls are into you,” Steve jokes.

“Come on, Murphy.”

“Just kidding!”

The smell of warm food swathes Javier, more so when he walks into the kitchen, cautiously looking around so as to not startle Connie. He notices her by the counter, frantically stirring something that looks like a salad.

“Smells delicious, Con.”

She turns almost violently fast, her face lighting up when she meets Javier’s benevolent face. Then she goes in for a hug, her eyes landing on the bottle of wine in his large hand.

“I’m so glad you made it!” she smiles. “And whoa, that is quite an expensive bottle of wine, isn’t it?”

“Uh—medium.”

“I hope lasagna is okay. Homemade from scratch—“

“Connie, relax. It smells delicious, and I bet it’ll be even more delicious.”

Connie’s smile widens and Javier can easily read relief on her face. “By the way, you know Steve’s sister is coming too, don’t you?”

“Yeah, Steve told me. Looking forward to the family dynamic you guys got going on. Sure that’ll be fun.”

Connie snorts. “Well. The Murphy siblings are quite something, let me tell you that. Their relationship has been rocky for years, since she went out to college, but Steve’s been trying to reconnect, and I think tonight can be a good step forward.”

“Kind of feels like I’m intruding then.”

“Don’t worry about it. You know we consider you part of our family. You’re Olivia’s uncle.”

“Well I’m his aunt, and I’m not sure I’m into whatever vibe’s been pushed onto the two of us then.”

Both Javier and Connie turn towards you, each smiling in your direction, though you sense warmth and love from your sister-in-law and nothing but mere politeness from Javier. Which makes sense, given how you’re practically strangers and you seem to have nothing in common.

“Hi,” you smile at him, too wide for Javier’s own taste.

“Hola señorita,” he nods.

You can’t help the sound that leaves your throat, a rather mocking sound. “Why do you do that?” you ask.

“Do what?”

“The thing where you greet me with your ‘come and get it’ voice, all sultry and in Spanish too. Do you greet all the ladies like that?”

Javier frowns. “I don’t have a ‘come and get’—what?”

But then he hears Connie’s stifled chuckle and he redirects his frown towards her.

“You do kind of have that voice that’s meant to be… persuasive with the ladies.”

“I don’t—shut up.”

He places the wine bottle on the countertop then settles in the living room. Not a moment too late, Steve makes his appearance, crashing on the couch next to him.

“Alright, Olivia should be down for a couple of hours at least, but that remains to be seen,” he jokes.

“Your sister’s a real tough nut.”

“You ain’t gotta tell me. What she do?”

“Said I have a ‘come and get it’ voice.”

Steve lets out a hearty laugh, a sound Javier hasn’t heard before. Though he doesn’t reciprocate and merely frowns in his friend’s direction, he can’t help but appreciate seeing him happy. Even if it is at Javier’s expense.

“You do,” Steve agrees after a while. “You do have that kind of voice.”

“How the hell would you know?”

“Jav, I’ve seen you at work countless times. Even walked in on you once while you and Helena were—“

“Don’t bring that up again.”

“Sorry. But why are you pouting about this anyway? Never seen you react like this cause of somethin’ a girl said. A girl like my sister, no less.”

Javier remains quiet. Why did he pout and walk away while you and Connie remained engaged in conversation in the kitchen? It is unlike him, Steve got that right; he’d never feel in any way, shape or form small because of a woman, and even if he could be hurt by a woman, he wouldn’t let it show. Not that it is a conscious choice, but rather another bizarre coping mechanism of his.

Yet it seems that you calling him out on his polite manner of greeting is causing his body to react in unusual ways.

Huh.

“What are you two girls gossiping about?” your voice reaches the living room and Javier instantly stiffens, but he still gets up from the couch and helps Connie set the table, steering clear away from you.

Which you notice. Of course you notice.

“I’m not gonna bite, you know?” you address him directly.

Connie’s eyes follow the two of you intently as you stare at each other from opposite sides of the table. She doesn’t say a word; she can only steal curious glances.

“Unless you’re into that, which… mea culpa, I can get into that too,” you smile mischievously, and Javier fights off the mental image of you leaving bite marks over his neck.

Calm the fuck down, Peña. This is just the dry spell talking.

The more he looks at you, as quickly as humanly possible, and the more he listens to you, the more he acknowledges that yes, you are far from his type.

Which couldn’t be more of a great thing.

“You two sound like an old couple with all this back and forth,” Steve says, laying the lasagna tray right in the middle of the table and makes a face.

“Not sure I’d be up for that challenge. And that’s coming from me.”

“Please! You couldn’t stop talking about marrying Derek, that guy you dated when you got into college. Marrying a bad boy was like your lifelong dream.”

You chuckle, taking a seat in front of Javier as he pours you and Connie some wine.

“That was definitely not my life’s dream,” you smile. “But since you wanna spill tea about the past in front of our guest—“

“You got nothing on me.”

Your smile turns into a rather devious smirk, and Javier can’t help but notice just how well you can match your big brother’s energy, how well you are prepared to handle anything he throws at you.

Resilience. Strength. He admires that.

“Oh yeah?” you cock an eyebrow at your brother, then immediately face Javier and focus all of your attention on him. “Get this: when Steven and Connie started dating, it was all very much textbook romance. The honeymoon stage was all honey and sugar. Every song was about them, every poem was about them. Which meant, naturally, that they were going at it every chance they got, on every surface they could find.”

“Sure,” Javier nods.

“We weren’t really like that,” Connie intervenes softly.

But you raise your hand, dismissing her, and continue. “One day, I stop by Steven’s place and I notice there’s clothes everywhere. I think to myself, ‘must’ve been a wild night, good for them’ because I’m genuinely happy for my brother and I really like his new girlfriend, right? Wrong.”

“Please don’t say it,” Steve begs.

“I make my way to the kitchen, when suddenly I feel something soft and rather moist against my foot.”

“You’re saying it.”

“I look down, and I realize I stepped on a condom.”

“Was it—?”

“That’s right, Javier. I stepped on my big brother’s used condom.”

Javier does everything in his power to not laugh, so he munches on a big piece of lasagna and salad. He washes it all down with a sip of wine, noticing Connie hiding her face in her palms and Steve rubbing his temples and staring into the distance.

“What did I do to you that you had to tell that story?!” Steve exclaims.

“You laughed at my lifelong dream. Which by the way, does not revolve around marriage. And certainly not marrying a bad boy or anything related to that. No offense, Javier.”

“None taken till… just now.”

“Is this about the stupid Star Wars disagreement again?”

Javier’s frown deepens, looking at Connie for some sort of information, yet nothing is readable on her face except an expression that resembles a big “oh shit”.

“’Disagreement’?” you repeat incredulously.

“You guys fought over Star Wars?” Javier surprises himself asking out loud.

“It’s not like that,” Steve says.

“I used to write fanfiction, specifically for Star Wars,” you clarify, your tone bitter now. “That’s how I got started with writing. I love books and reading and… I love writing. That’s why I work at the library.”

“A lot of people get their start through fanfiction, I think it’s great,” Connie adds in what feels like a futile attempt to dissolve some of the tension.

But it’s increasingly clear that the relationship between you and Steve carries more than tension from some silly arguments and some bickering. It runs deeper than what he imagined on his way here, and suddenly he feels guilty for being in the middle.

“I still don’t see the point of it, I’m sorry,” Steve mutters.

“Of course you don’t.”

“Steve.”

“No, I really don’t mean to insult or hurt you, you know that. It’s just… to me, I’m just wondering what the point in writing for a story that’s already been written is?”

You feel anger bubbling at the surface, barely protruding your skin, and yet it simmers dangerously close to your breaking point. You do not want to make a scene, not at this housewarming dinner that Connie worked hard to organize, and not in front of someone who’s practically a stranger.

“The point is creativity, expressing your own thoughts and emotions through words,” you say through clenched teeth. “Even if it is an existing story. You can build within it so that it remains unique and faithful to the material.”

“I’m not the bad guy here, sis. I swear I’m not trying to—“

“It’s not about what you’re trying to do, it’s about what you are doing. And you’re being a dick right now. Excuse me.”

You take a large sip of wine on your way out of the living room, hoping nobody follows you in your pursuit to the bathroom. Yet somehow you end up in a bedroom, presumably Steve and Connie’s judging by the framed picture of them and Olivia on the nightstand. You exhale loudly, closing your eyes and taking a moment to yourself.

You know Steve doesn’t want to hurt you. The opposite, really: everything he’s ever done, the reason why he always pushed so hard and pressured and became annoying was because he wanted to protect you in the first place. He loves you and wanted nothing more but to make sure you were safe. You know that.

But right now, you feel like you’re seventeen again, crying in anger, begging your family to just notice you and understand that you are not some freak for being on the quiet side, and the frustration that comes along with the sentiment is nearly debilitating.

A knock on the door startles you, and you roll your eyes. “Not in the mood, Steven. Gimme another two minutes, maybe I’ll conjure a smile then.”

“It’s Javier. Can I come in?”

You’re met with his face, poorly lit, and you nod. He reluctantly sits next to you on the bed, hands intertwined together between his legs. He’s clearly feeling a little awkward, but not too much since he followed you in here.

“You okay?” he asks.

You snort. “Do you really care?”

“I’m not a heartless monster, so… yeah, I guess. Besides the silence at the table is… a killer. Even Olivia’s more talkative. Pretty sure Connie’s laying it onto Steve right about now.”

“I pray you don’t mean physically.”

“Sure as hell hope not.”

You both chuckle, so soft and silent it could go unnoticed by the untrained ear.

“Anyway,” Javier resumes whilst clearing his throat as if what he’s about to say is painful, “I think it’s cool you wrote for Star Wars.”

“I take it you’re a fan?”

“Big time.”

“So… you don’t think my writing is a waste of time?”

“If it’s what you love to do, it never is a waste of time.”

Baffled, you turn towards him. “Watch it, Peña. I might start thinking you’re a good guy after all and so I could spend my time with you.”

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“Definitely not. I’m avoiding you like the plague.”

Javier smiles, looking away from you. You’re witty and got a sharp tongue, but you are still not his type. Even so, you’re not that terrible to joke around with.

“I’m sure you’re a good writer though,” he says, and he’s shocked at his own honesty.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence. Would you mind telling that to my brother?”

“There are few things I actually mind telling him straight to his face.”

You both laugh, just when Connie knocks on the door, eyes locked on your figure. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you exhale, and this time it’s with relief. “Shockingly, Peña calmed me down. Where’s Steven?”

“Sent him outside to cool down. Don’t let him know you guys were alone in here.”

“Why?” Javier inquires.

“I think he thinks that… well… given your tumultuous past and your well-known reputation with the ladies…”

A laughter escapes your throat, rich and sardonic. “He thinks we’re gonna fuck with the first chance we get?” you keep laughing. “Is that how little faith he has in his best friend and his flesh and blood? Motherfucker.”

Connie coos your name, though you it doesn’t really register with you.

“Also, ‘tumultuous past’, seriously? He can call it what it is. I was smoking, drinking, and hanging out with the baddest boys I could find to teach my parents and my big brother a valuable lesson. Lesson that I see has passed by all three of them.”

“Con, I made a promise to a friend. And I intend to keep it. Besides, she’s really not my type, so neither one of you has to worry.”

You shift closer to Javier. “Oh, you mean you don’t find me available and with no standards?”

“See?” Javier smiles, though evidently a little riled up. “We’re fine.”

“O-kay.”

“I should go. Thanks for dinner, Con, it was very nice. The food, cause what followed was…”

“Yeah. Let me walk you out.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see myself out.”

You watch Javier disappear out the frame, your eyes lingering in the doorway one second too long. You’re very appreciative of the way he came in to comfort you, even if he did so rather clumsily. Maybe he’s not good with words. Or maybe he’s not used to comforting women.

Not in this way, at least.

Then you feel Connie’s gaze on you, burning you alive with questions she doesn’t dare ask, and you feel defensive. “What?”

“All the teasing? Him immediately coming to check on you? Comforting you? Plus, the eyes at the table…”

“What eyes? We’re neighbors, barely acquaintances. You’re reading way into it, Connie.”

She raises her arms in defense. “I’m just saying, for a moment there it seemed like you were interested in each other.”

You tsk disapprovingly. “You heard the man, I am definitely not his type.”

“What about him? Is he your type?”

“Connie. Sweetheart. He’s the walking poster for a bad boy. Inconspicuous past, questionable morals and definitely traumatized. While this was exactly what sixteen year old me would’ve swooned over, as sexy as all of that sounds and as attractive as I’d find him, because I’d be lying if I’d say I don’t… no, thank you. Grown me is more mindful of what—or whom—she puts inside her body.”

“Look, I’m not sure what Steve told you about him, but they’re friends for a reason. Not just cause they were partners in the DEA but Javi’s a really good guy. He might’ve done some questionable things back in Colombia, but so did Steve. They did what they had to do to survive and do their jobs, and Javi is actually a very caring person. He just doesn’t like showing it often.”

You rummage through Connie’s words, breaking down each and every single one of them so as to construct a better image of the man that is Javier Peña: a good, honorable man and friend, charming devil to the ladies, but always honest and upfront despite the wall of solitude and grumpiness he puts forth.

Yep. A walking poster for bad boys.

Even worse.

A former bad boy who’s learned from his mistakes and now wants to do better.

“I understand what you’re saying, but you don’t have to sell Javier’s reputation to me. I am not interested,” you reply absentmindedly.

“Alright, suit yourself. But it’s too bad. I think this could be something great for both of you.”

Again you tsk, this time more stubbornly, and you agree to return to the living room and have another glass of wine while you think of how comforted you felt in the presence of whom you could only describe as the most attractive stranger you have ever seen.

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tags: @pedrostories @milkymoon2483 @ifall4dilfs @psychedelic-ink @casa-boiardi

[grumpypixistix]

Reflections

Miguel O’Hara x Mom!Reader

Warnings- Mirror sex, unprotected p in v, lactating kink, biting kink, breath play, sprinkle of overstimulation (with aftercare!)

18+ MINORS DNI

A/n- Fic based on this request here! Also shout out to @naeverse for helping me with my writer’s block, thank you lovely <3 (and again, I’m so so sorry this took so long-)

“See? Look how pretty you are, mi vida.”

Miguel hummed quietly as he stared at you in the mirror, his hands resting on your hips as he pressed soft kisses to your shoulder. His tall figure towered behind you as you continued to stare at your reflection, leaning over to rest his head on yours. A sigh left your lips as you turned your head towards him.

“Are you sure I am..?” You questioned softly, your arms moving away from your healed stomach.

Miguel looked at you and chuckled, placing a kiss to your temple as his thumbs gently caressed your hips.

“Sweetheart, of course I’m sure. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Plus, you did give me a beautiful kid, so you get bonus points for that” Miguel teased, trying to lighten up your spirit.

A small chuckle left your lips as he teased you, a smile creeping up on your mouth as you turned around to face him.

“Being a mom gives me attractive bonus points?” You asked with a laugh, your hands holding onto the fabric of Miguel’s shirt.

“Of course it does, cariño, why wouldn’t it?” Miguel snickered, placing a soft kiss to your mouth.

You hummed in appreciation as Miguel’s lips met your own, your hand cupping his cheek as you continued to kiss him. After exchanging soft kisses, you slowly pull away to look up at him with a smile. When Miguel tried to pull you in for a longer make out session, you placed your other hand on his chest to stop him as the sound of fussing could be heard from the other side of the room.

“I think Gabriella’s hungry” You spoke softly and gently pulled away from him to go tend to the baby.

Miguel sighed quietly and gave you some time to get ready to feed the baby, wandering in the kitchen for a few minutes. He could hear the faint sound of your voice cooing the baby’s cries, the sound dying down after you began to breastfeed her. After some time, he finally came into the room and saw you with Gabriella in your arms, latching off of your breast. You didn’t even notice him standing in the doorway watching you until you moved your head up.

“Hi, honey” You hummed softly, giving Miguel a small smile.

Something in Miguel awoke at the sight of you like that… it made his blood rush through his veins and his stomach churn in a cycle. He remembered the times when the two of you had time alone… he missed your touch, your taste… but more importantly, he missed when you let him latch off of you like that. It gave him a source of comfort and security, which he would never admit to anyone else but you. It wasn’t something he was used to, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t wish that he could taste how sweet you were again… He didn’t even realize he was just staring at you in silence until you repeated your question.

“Miguelll? Are you listening to me?” You asked for the second time, glancing down and seeing Gabriella dozing off to sleep.

Miguel shook out of his deep thoughts and cleared his throat, “Uh- yeah, yeah.. mhm…”

You gave him a look and he sighed out of defeat, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips. “Okay, you got me… I was stuck in my own thoughts.”

As you gently got up from the bed to set the baby back in the crib, a brow raised up on your face again when you made eye contact with the large man. Miguel noticed your face and realized you were waiting for him to elaborate, making his whole face burn a deep shade of red. He bit the inside of his cheek and took a few steps out of the room, leading you out as you tried to get him to explain himself.

“Care to explain yourself, Mr. O’Hara?” You teased lowly, a grin creeping on your lips.

Miguel let out a sheepish chuckle and avoided looking directly at you as he began to mumble, “Well… Y’know… when- when I saw you like that… it just… it reminded me of…”

A moment of silence occurred between the two of you as you tried to figure out what he meant by that statement, making Miguel a little nervous. Once you finally caught onto his hint, your eyes widened and your cheeks burned up.

“Wait, are you talking about… that?” You whispered, letting out a chuckle as you nibbled on your lip.

Miguel hesitantly nodded his head as he continued to look down, making you walk towards him to tilt his head up to your height. As you make him pay full attention to you, his eyes never leave yours and his breath hitches.

“Are you trying to tell me something, Miggy?”

He gulps quietly, his throat growing uncomfortably dry as he struggles to find an answer for you.

“I- I mean… it all depends on if you’re.. okay with it” Miguel whispers softly.

A small smile appears on your lips as you lean close enough to kiss his lips, fixing a few strands of his loose hair.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Miguel’s breath shakes even more than before as a wildfire begins to spread across his body, your touch only encouraging the feeling more. From your tone and words alone, he had a feeling that tonight was going to take an unexpected turn.

———————————————————————

After Peter B agreed to babysit Gabi for a few hours, you ended up being pinned to the bed with Miguel’s large hands resting on your hips as his mouth stayed connected to your neck. Soft and sensual moans poured out of you as he continued to spoil you with his hands and lips, gasping softly when you felt the sharp prick of his fangs tickle your skin. Miguel’s tongue continued to trail the soft and warm skin before gently plunging his fangs into your neck, a sharp squeak rushing out of your mouth before you could even stop yourself.

“Miguel-!” You cried out, writhing underneath his heavy body as he keeps his hands glued to your hips.

“Shhh, mi vida… lemme jus’ do this… fuck, I missed you so much…” Miguel whined out, kissing the punctures on your skin from where his fangs were buried in and grinding lightly against you.

The mix of every action from Miguel made your eyes roll back in pleasure, body slightly shaking from how good it felt to finally have him touch you like this again. He respected your boundaries and helped you heal when you had Gabriella, which you were thankful for, but having him like this again was like a fresh breath of air. It was much more than that, actually.

When Miguel placed a kiss to your lips, his hand trailed from your hip up to your neck, squeezing it slowly. The longer you kissed him, the harder it became to breathe from his hand wrapped around your neck. The quick and shaky breaths that left your sweet lips made Miguel even more turned on than before, waiting a few more moments as he listened to your struggling breathing. As the air left your lungs and your head began to feel light, you tapped Miguel’s wrist as a warning for him to stop.

Miguel listened immediately and let go of your neck, releasing a heavy sigh as you tried to catch the stolen breaths taken from you. He gave you some time to breathe, feeling himself grow harder between your legs just from listening to your breathing. As you feel his cock harden against your inner thigh, a breathless moan leaves you as your hips moved up against his, desperate to feel some sort of friction. Miguel let out a choked moan as you began to grind against his clothed dick, his pants feeling tighter with each move of your hips. It was too much for him, he had to have you.

“Shhit-! Hah- h- hold on, cariño…” Miguel shuddered, gently pulling away as he began to strip himself of his clothes.

As you were about to whine in protest, the sight of Miguel taking off his clothes in front of you made your mouth water. All protests you were about to make before had suddenly disappeared as his toned and tan body was now revealed to you, watching in anticipation as he now worked on getting his pants off. You bit down on your lip as Miguel unbuttoned his pants and urgently got them off, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. Some of the pressure had finally been relieved, but not all of it. When he looked up at you, he immediately noticed the look you had on your face. It was the face of pure lust and admiration, a look that he had missed for far too long.

Miguel leaned back down for a passionate kiss, his hands caressing your body as you took your time kissing him back. The sounds of your breaths mixing together were like music to your ears, sweet moans and whispers escaping from the both of you. His hands moved up to cup your clothed breasts, gently squeezing and massaging them. The feeling was a mix of pleasure and stress being released, making you crave more of it.

“Miggy…”

“Shh, I know.. I know, hermosa..” Miguel cooed quietly, giving you one last kiss before he helped you strip your shirt off.

The cold air hitting your skin made you sensitive, a quiet whimper escaping as goosebumps trailed your body. Miguel let out a small chuckle at your reaction, a relieved sigh leaving him as he looked at your exposed breasts. He had seen them hundreds of times, but he always loved it every single time. He couldn’t resist the urge to gently pinch your nipples with his fingers, placing warm kisses to the top of your breasts. Moans began to slip from your mouth, your eyes rolling back and fluttering shut as Miguel began to fondle with your breasts, feeling the warm liquid dribble down your skin from your nipples.

As Miguel pulled away from kissing your skin, he noticed the white liquid dripping down your breasts. He immediately licked up what was dripping from your nipples and began to suck on the right one, a gasp leaving you. The deep shade of red forming on your cheeks made your body heat up more, your hand moving up to his hair as the other scratched at his back. Miguel enjoyed every moment of this, quenching the one thirst he couldn’t resist for so long. As the warmness of the milk went down his throat, soft moans and whispers of encouragement poured out of you, only egging him on more.

After latching off and placing kisses to your right breast, Miguel placed a kiss to your lips before moving onto the left nipple. Your teeth dug into your lower lip deeper as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, slowly beginning to suck on it and latching onto your breast. Your head tilted back into the fluffy pillows, fingers tugging on some of his hair as you moaned his name. Miguel continued to drink the warm liquid with each suck, finally letting go after he was satisfied.

When Miguel looked at you as he sat back up, he let out a quiet sigh of satisfaction, your milk still on his wet lips. He licked his lips and carefully leaned down to kiss your cheeks and lips, looking down at you as a few loose strands hung in his face. A small smile crept up on his lips as you helped move his hair out of his face, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

“I love you…” Miguel hummed quietly, a faint shade of red coating his cheeks.

A breathless chuckle left you as he spoke those words, smiling up at him, “I love you, too…”

Miguel leaned down once more to kiss you, gently helping you get out of your pants. After unbuttoning them, he practically ripped the fabric off of your body, making you worried that he just ruined a pair of your pants. When he looked at you again, he let out a laugh as he shifted to look between you and the pants on the floor.

“I’ll get you another pair if I ripped them” Miguel promised, giving you an apologetic smile.

A yelp and laugh left you as he suddenly scooped you into his arms, kissing him passionately as his thumbs dipped down under the hem of your panties. His hands gently squeezed your hips as the tips of his fingers pressed down into the plush of your ass. After sharing more passionate kisses with one another, Miguel pulled away to help you take off your underwear. He helps you slide them down your legs, a breathy sigh leaving your lips once more.

Miguel’s fangs dig into his bottom lip as he takes off your panties and sees your soaked pussy on display for him, ducking his head down to gently kiss the scar on your stomach. You squirm and quietly giggle as the feeling tickles you, earning a soft chuckle from him. He moves down to the top of your thighs and places several kisses to the skin, leaving a few on your inner thighs before he moves back up to meet your face. Miguel’s hand moves to cup your cheek, turning his head for a quick moment as if he were looking for something. When you turn your head in the same direction, you notice what he’s looking at.

The mirror from earlier.

As you look into the reflection of the both of you unclothed, a hot fluttery sensation begins to emerge in your stomach. Miguel noticed the sudden tint on your face and let out a low chuckle, kissing your cheek.

“C’mon, sweetheart… lemme show you just how pretty you are” Miguel whispers into your ear, earning a quiet moan from you.

From your reaction, Miguel begins to kiss your neck and pulls away to look at you, his hand gently wrapping around your throat as he pressed his lips to yours. You let out another whine as you kiss him back just as passionately, Miguel pulling away for a moment to help position you on the bed. He had you lying down on your chest, back arched up and your ass facing him. You bit down on your lower lip and hummed quietly, watching him in the reflection of the mirror in front of you. He let out a low groan as his hands caressed the plush skin, giving you a quick spank and a kiss to your lower back.

You reacted to the sting from the spank with a sharp hiss, noticing Miguel parting away from you to remove his boxers. He let out a sigh of relief as his cock sprung out, finally relieved that he was no longer restricted. Once he threw his boxers somewhere on the floor, he eagerly began to rub his mushroom tip against your pussy and gathering your slick. The warm feeling made you gasp and fall into a soft moan, watching Miguel in the reflection as he let out quiet and shaky breaths. And then slowly, inch by inch, he began to dip his cock inside you with a long and low moan.

The slow stretch of you adjusting to take him felt amazing, earning a loud moan from you. As Miguel’s hands stayed on your hips to slowly thrust inside you, you couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut from the slow pleasure. For a few moments, you continued to keep your eyes closed, letting out whimpers and mewls until Miguel noticed you in the mirror. His hand moved from your hip to wrap around your neck, making you gasp from the sudden feeling and your eyes open.

“Don’t close your eyes… I want you to see everything… Want you to watch me fuck this pussy” Miguel groaned lowly, lightly squeezing your neck as he began to pick up his pace.

His words only made you more needy for him, the wet sounds of his dick moving in and out of your pussy beginning to fill the room. As you struggled to keep your eyes open, each breath was knocked out of you from Miguel’s thrusts, your moans coming out broken. It was as if the long wait he had to endure was finally over- and each passing moment was worth it for him. He missed the feeling of your walls fluttering around him when you cum, the sweet sounds of your moans encouraging him to go on. He missed the times when he would overstimulate you to tears, kissing you and whispering sweet things during aftercare. And now he has the chance to do it all over again.

As Miguel speeds up the pace, he squeezes your neck tighter as your breath weakens, the combination of his thrusts and his hand around your neck making it hard to breathe.

“Miggy-!” You cry out weakly, gasping for air and moving your ass against him for some friction.

“Tha’s it- fuuck-!” Miguel moans loudly, giving your neck one last squeeze before removing his hand to rub your clit.

In the reflection of the mirror, you could see your face forming into pure pleasure as Miguel fucks you with his thick cock and teases your clit. Your loud moans echo throughout the room, the sound of skin slapping together accompanying the whines pouring out of you.

“Fuck! F- Fuck, keep- keep going-“ You barely managed to muster out, your legs twitching as Miguel rubs the sensitive ball of nerves.

Miguel rubs your clit faster as you tell him to keep going, whispering praises and kissing your shoulder before burying his fangs into your skin. A choked gasp escaped from you as his tip rubbed perfectly against your g-spot, the pleasure mixing with the pain of his fangs digging into your shoulder. As you managed to look up at your reflection again, you wished that you could stay like this forever.

The sight of Miguel balls deep inside of you, his arm wrapped tight around you as his head leans against yours. His other arm tucked against your torso, rubbing your clit, eager to please the one person he loves the most. Just the view alone made you want to gush all over his cock- hell, the view made you want to give him another baby. Anything was worth having his cum stuffed inside of you, and you were willing to do whatever it took to get it.

Miguel could feel his orgasm creeping up, the feeling of your walls fluttering making him cry out your name.

“Cariño, I’m- hah- I’m so close-“

Your orgasm was creeping close as well, letting out a chant of moans and Miguel’s name as he continued to plow his cock inside of your soaked pussy.

“Me too, baby- Ohh Miggy!!”

That sentence was enough to tip Miguel over the edge, gasping and moaning as his cum filled your cunt. As his orgasm washed over, yours crashed down at the same time, the whole room filled with nothing but the sound of both of your moans, his sweet sounds kissing your ear. As Miguel’s cum continued to leak out of his tip, he moved his hips to stuff it all back inside you, not wanting a single drop to go to waste. The more he moved his hips to thrust inside you, the more sensitive you became from trying to come down from your intense orgasm. Gasps and high pitched cries escaped you as you reached up to tug on his hair, your body shaking from underneath him as he continued his thrusts.

“Miguel-!!” You sobbed, becoming extremely overstimulated from his cock still buried inside your cunt.

Miguel immediately noticed your signal and was quick to comfort you, placing kisses to your shoulder and cheek as he slowly pulled his softening cock out of your cum-filled pussy.

“Shhh, it’s ok, muñeca… I got you…” Miguel whispered softly into your ear, cooing and moving off of you to cuddle you.

You tried to catch your breath as you laid down with Miguel, his arms wrapping around you as the two of you calmed down from your orgasms. His fingertips traced random patterns over your skin, placing a soft peck to your forehead before leaning down to your lips. Your hand made its way to cup his cheek as he kissed you, quietly humming with a smile on your face as he pulled away to look at you. As you turned your head a little, you could see the both of you holding each other in the reflection, making your cheeks flush a soft pink.

Miguel chuckled and kissed your temple as he whispered in your ear, “See? Told you I’d show you just how pretty you are..”

That earned a quiet giggle out of you, growing slightly bashful at his words. He chuckled with you and held you closer, the two of you lying like that for a little while until Peter brought Gabriella back home.

—————————————————————————

“Thank you so much for watching her, I really hope it wasn’t much of an issue for you” You told Peter as Gabriella cooed in your arms.

“Don’t worry about it, really. I’ve got Mayday back home, so I’m pretty much used to fussy babies” Peter chuckled with a grin on his face.

“I know, but taking care of two babies at once sounds like a lot. I just feel a little guilty for leaving that on top of your plate.”

“Believe me, it’s a lot easier with MJ helping me too, so I have to give her credit as well. And plus I get it, you guys need your time alone for a few hours…”

Peter pauses his sentence when he notices the hickeys and puncture marks on your neck, his eyes widening slightly.

“Speaking of which… what exactly did you guys do during that time?” Peter questions, raising a brow as he looked between you and the evidence Miguel left behind on your neck.

You pretend not to notice his suspicion, shrugging slightly and continuing to hold the baby in your arms, “…Watched movies.”

“…Watched movies, huh?” He asked, not believing you.

“Yeah… just watched movies” You replied nonchalantly.

The two of you stood in silence for a few seconds before you cleared your throat, taking a few steps inside of the house.

“Well! I should probably get Gabi to bed and finish watching my movie with Miguel- Thank you again, Peter!” You said quickly before shutting the door.

Miguel chuckled quietly as he sat on the couch and watched you come back inside, getting up and scooping Gabriella out of your arms.

“What was that all about?” Miguel asked, curious about the conversation you had with Peter.

You let out a small chuckle and shook your head at him, “Ah, nothin’, don’t worry about it. Just… Peter being Peter.”

Miguel let out a laugh and nodded, kissing your forehead as he continued to hold Gabriella, “That’s the only explanation I need to hear.”

You chuckled again and smiled up at Miguel, humming quietly to yourself. As you look down at Gabi, you press a kiss to her head before speaking again.

“Do you wanna watch something after we put her to sleep?” You ask softly, looking up into Miguel’s eyes.

Miguel nods with a soft smile, agreeing to your request, “Of course, that sounds like a good idea.”

The both of you smiled at each other before leaning in to press your lips together, a satisfied hum leaving Miguel. Once he pulls away, he gently rocks Gabriella to sleep and walks into the other room, leaving you momentarily to put her in the crib.

And in that moment, you felt so lucky to have Miguel and Gabriella in your life.

[theitgirlnetwork]

Better

Ch. 11: Three Months But It Feels Like Forever

Note: Hello! Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it and just a warm hope you had a good day to those who don't. Another chapter written in the middle of the night, so...you know. Still I hope you enjoy it. Unfortunately our fave couple still has troubles ahead, but there's a fun, a little (a lot) crazy surprise at the end. As always, thank you for all of the love on this story, I'm really grateful for it. It really inspires me and makes this stuff even easier to share. You're all great. I love interacting so feel free to continue. Also this is short but the next one will be longer bc it's something big. Also again, this taglist situation is probably my bad so I'm gonna sort it out, try again next chapter, and then y'all can tell me if it worked, bc atp I'm embarrassing myself. Thanks and I hope you enjoy. <3

Charlotte's Work Party Look

Lip's Work Party Look

“So this is bullshit. He dumps her for one basketball game?”

“That’s not what happened, he was having an inner conflict, and he was only sixteen.”

“Sixteen year old piece of shit.”

Charlotte huffs, continuing to run her fingers through his blond curls. Lip is laid across the couch, his head in Charlotte’s lap, hand underneath her thigh. Debbie is sitting on the floor in front of the television and Troy Bolton had just told his friends he didn’t give a shit about Gabriella. 

“He’s just choosing basketball and his friends.” Debbie protests, breaking free from her basketball boy trance to argue with her brother.

“Basketball and his friends can’t get his dick wet-ow! Charlotte.” he winces, rubbing the spot on his scalp where his girlfriend had decided to bury her hand and tug. “Damn it, I was just sayin’ he’s got like one game left in the season, why does he need to break up with her to play? And that shit she just wrote on the board is wrong-why the hell are we watchin’ this shit?”

“You just don’t get it.” Debbie huffs, pausing the movie. She pushes off of the floor and grabs the popcorn from the coffee table. “Let’s watch try again when he’s not here.”

“Oh excuse me.” Lip rolls his eyes as his sister storms off, running up the steps. When he looks back up at his girlfriend, her cheek is dimpling with her deep frown. “What?”

“You ruined movie night” she fake pouts, rubbing her hand along his chest.

Lip smirks, before indulging her, sitting up and tilting her chin with his finger. “Aw, did I?” he kisses her cheek, “I don’t think I did.” her jaw, “We could go in my room and make our own movie.”

“Yeah?” Charlotte hums, meeting his lips briefly with her own before pulling back. “Can’t. I have work.”

“Stay here,” he murmurs, pulling her back to him. “You can dance for me.”

Giggling, Charlotte lets herself be pulled back in, exchanging kisses with the blond until his phone buzzes on the couch next to him, a dreaded name lighting up on the screen. She pulls back fully this time, standing to go get dressed. “Your professor is texting you. At 8:36 at night.” 

Blue eyes watch Charlotte disappear up the staircase before closing tiredly. Lip had been dodging almost all of Helene’s communications. He would read her texts to make sure they had nothing to do with his job, and only responded when they did.  He’d hoped that was enough, but everytime Charlotte saw that name pop up on his phone she would retract from him. Leave the room, pick up Liam, interact with anyone but him. One morning she asked again, if she had a thing for him, or if they’d hooked up in the past. No matter how much he wanted to, Lip just couldn’t bring himself to answer her with a yes.

“Fuck,” he breathes to himself, before running up the stairs after her. He pushes the door to his bedroom open. “Charlotte-” he pauses, staring at her, taking in her form. She stands in her work outfit, if you could call it that, the only thing offering an ounce of covering is the one leg of a juicy tracksuit she was putting on over it. “Um, what the fuck?”

She turns, meeting him with confusion, giving him a glimpse of the front which only has him letting out a laugh of disbelief. “What?”

“What? You’re gonna wear that to work?”

“Oh,” she shrugs, putting her leg through the other hole and pulling the pants up. “Yeah.” she chirps, reaching past him to grab the matching jacket, zipping it over the small bikini top she has on.

“The only thing that shit covers is your nipples.” Lip says, scratching his head.

“S’a stripclub, Phillip. They’re supposed to see stuff.” she giggles. Her laughter stops when she sees his stoic face. Charlotte makes her way over to him, cupping his cheek, “Hey, you said you were good with this. You’re not?”

Lip looks away from her for a second, shifting on his feet. He’s too embarrassed to admit to her that he thinks he agreed to this whole stripper situation too soon. He’d never been a jealous guy, so he didn’t think it was a problem, but he supposes that jealousy is a new feeling that Charlotte had brought into his life. “No, baby I am, just…shit.”

“What shit. Like shit? Or shit.”

Lip closes the distance between them, waiting for her to meet him in a peck, patting her ass when she does. “Watch your mouth.” he mumbles against her lips.

Big brown eyes just stare up into his blue ones. “M’workin’ for us, remember?” She whispers, wrapping her arms around his neck and rubbing his hair at the nape. “Besides, why would I look at the losers that hang out at the club, lookin’ at me all night when I could come work and be with my sexy boyfriend?”

“Good point.”

“Yeah?” she laughs, letting him pull her into a bunch of small pecks, between matching smiles. The couple starts to get lost in each other again, only breaking away at the sound of Lip’s phone going off again. Charlotte pulls back with a blank look on her face. “Your other girlfriend is trying to reach you.”

Lip rolls his eyes and sighs as she slips past him again, running down the stairs. “Bunny-”

“Just take me to work, Gallagher.”

“You do privates, honey?” A drunken man slurs, leering at Charlotte, waving a hundred dollar bill in front of her face. He’s with a group of older men who’d been tipping shittily and buying the cheapest drinks since they’d gotten there.

“No, sir I don’t, but the ladies that do are on the other side of the club…and they charge more than that.”

The man’s lip curls as he stands, scowling at the woman. Charlotte subtly takes a step back, glancing over at security, ready to call them if he got aggressive.

“Hold on, wait a minute, Trent. That’s my daughter in law you’re talkin’ to.” a voice rasps. 

“Frank?” 

The scraggly man emerges from the crowd of older men on the couch, positioning himself between Charlotte and the other man. “The one and only.” His gaze drops briefly. “Nice outfit.”

Charlotte wraps her arms over her chest and frowns at the man. “What’re you doing here, Frank?” She looks at the group behind him. “Are you in trouble?” 

“Trouble? I’m enjoying the ambience! You and your lovely naked friends are a sight to behold-”

“Oh, God, Frank!” Charlotte gasps, covering her mouth to hide her disgust. 

“What? You have a beautiful form!”

“I’m calling Phillip.” she huffs, turning to go to the locker room, she pauses as a thought passes through her mind. Twirling back around she makes her way back over. “Frank, what are you paying with?”

“Oh,” the older man produces a sock full of cash from his pocket. It’s familiar to Charlotte. Ever since Frank and Monica located the first squirrel fund, Fiona had started keeping the money in a new place. In the dry rotted hole on the floor between the wall and the dryer. Inside of the sock that Frank was currently dangling in Charlotte’s face. “I came into some money.”

“Hey, that’s-” Charlotte tries to grab it, only for Frank to yank it away at each attempt. “For the house! For bills, for Carl’s field trip this month-”

“That’s my house that you’re shacking up in fyi. This is Gallagher money, and therefore it’s mine to spend. Now point me in the direction of the ladies giving private dances. I’m a private man.”

“Frank, I can’t let you spend that-” Charlotte argues, grabbing one end of the sock and pulling. Frank is tugging at the other until he stumbles into a table, causing a couple glasses to fall and shatter, leaving Charlotte with the sock. Charlotte stands over the man angry, disgusted, and feeling a wave of hate she’s never really felt for anyone. Up until this point, she really didn’t consider Frank beyond the far and few in between memories Lip shared. But now she was seeing the man be shitty live and in person. And she was fed up. “It’s for your fucking kids you deadbeat!”

Two seconds later security is grabbing Frank and the manager on staff that night, Sarah, is pulling Charlotte a couple steps away. She can distantly hear Lip’s father yelling and cursing as he’s dragged from the club. “Lottie, what happened?”

“I…Frank is my boyfriend’s father, and he’s trying to spend their house money, and he was being a dick about it-”

“Okay, okay. Well, Frank knows he’s not really supposed to be in here anyway, so it won’t happen again. The new guy at the door must have let him slip through. But, because a personal altercation occurred out on the floor, I have to send you home, babe.”

“Damn, really?” Charlotte whines, looking at the crowd starting to pour into the club, no doubt big spenders. She could practically see the dollar signs fading away. Sara offers her a sympathetic look, shrugging. “Fine, okay, let me call my boyfriend to pick me up.”

Lip had been dead asleep when Charlotte let him know she needed to be picked up from work. He has work tomorrow and so in an attempt to get some real sleep, he was in their room at V and Kev’s house, taking advantage of the quiet. He’d rushed over to get her, grabbing Kev’s car keys without asking and noting to himself that a car should probably be the first thing on their list to purchase with the Bunny Bank. When he pulled up out front she was already waiting there for him, the big burly security man, John waiting beside her to walk her to the car. 

He and Lip exchange nods as Charlotte climbs into the car pouting. “What happened?” Lip immediately questions, barely letting the door closed. “Someone was fuckin’ with you?”

Charlotte huffs, buckling her seatbelt, allowing him to turn the light on and try to check her for any bruises or injuries. “No…kinda, just- your dad showed up.”

“Fuckin’ Frank.”

“Yeah, right, and he had all of your house money, and I tried to get it back, and he wouldn’t give it back, and we fought and I told him he was a piece of shit deadbeat.”

Lip frowns at that. He hates this part of having a girlfriend. It’s fucking humiliating. He doesn’t know how Fiona lets a bunch of different guys get involved with their family shit. Finding Frank drunk in the yard, Monica coming and spewing her bullshit, now Frank was showing up at Charlotte’s job. And she was fighting with him over money he’d stolen from his children. It’s fucking embarrassing. “Yeah, well, that’s Frank, don’t worry about that shit okay?”

“Well he was stealing from-”

“Fiona and I handle it, it’s not your problem, alright?” Lip says, muscle in his jaw jumping in irritation. 

From the corner of his eye he can see Charlotte stare at him with a hurt expression for a moment, before sitting back in the passenger seat, facing forward. “Okay.” she drops the sock full of money on his lap.

The rest of the ride is quiet, Lip drives her through dingy streets, in a borrowed car and wallows in shame. Charlotte is leaning as far into the door as possible, far from him. When they pull up to their neighborhood she hops out of the car before Lip can open the door, going over to Kev and V’s house. Lip follows a couple paces behind quietly, assuming the fact that she’d left the door unlocked was a sign she still wanted him to come with her. 

As he enters the room he finds Charlotte already in her pajamas, curled up on the bed facing the wall. Small movements let him know she’s crying. The blond quietly slips behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist and resting his face against hers, pressing soft quiet kisses against her cheek. “M’sorry, baby.”

She just offers a sniffle in response.

Lip sighs loudly, dropping his head to the desk. His eyes fucking burn. He got little to no sleep after he’d basically told Charlotte off and made her cry, and she was quiet as hell this morning. He was such a screw up. “Fuck” he curses, grabbing a cigarette and his lighter from his bag, leaning back in his desk chair as he sparks it. 

“Gallagher! You have a visitor!” Eric calls from the hallway. Immediately, Lip’s mind goes to Charlotte. Maybe she was feeling better and didn’t fucking hate him for telling her off for caring about him.

“Let her in!” 

The door creaks open revealing Helene with a condescending smile plastered on her face. “You’re a hard man to hunt down, Phillip Gallagher.” 

He just sighs, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air. “M’busy.”

“With what? Work or your girlfriend?” Helene sits in the chair across from Lip, crossing her legs, rolling her eyes when he doesn’t bother answering, taking another drag. “I’m kidding. But you have been ignoring my calls.”

“Well, you’re here now. What’d you wanna talk about?”

A muffled voice that could only be Eric’s is heard through the door. “His office is this way. You look great by the way.” The door to Lip’s office pushes open again, and who enters this time has him shooting out of his seat.  “Gallagher, your girlfriend’s here.” Eric grins, tucking his hands into his pockets as Charlotte slowly makes her way in, eyes flicking between Lip and Helene.

“Fucking shit, okay-” Lip mumbles under his breath, holding his arm out for Charlotte to come to him. He watches as she rolls her shoulders back, standing straight and walking behind Lip’s desk, leaning into him. “Hel-Helene, this is my girlfriend Charlotte, Charlotte, this is my old Professor Helene.”

“Nice to meet you, young lady.” Helene says, holding her hand out.

Charlotte takes a deep breath before setting down the bag she was carrying in her hand, reaching over and taking Helene’s hand. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs.-”

“Miss.”

“Ms. Helene.” Charlotte finishes, a tight smile on her face. 

The blonde woman laughs, tossing her head back. “Just Helene is fine.”

“Mm well, I dunno. Doesn’t seem right.” Charlotte shrugs, leaning further into Lip. “Thank you, by the way, for helping him get this job, it’s been wonderful.”

“You’re welcome. It was no problem at all, Phillip is a special boy.”

“I know,” Charlotte grins even harder, roughly patting Lip’s cheek. “A very special man. So proud of him.” 

Lip watches the exchange trying to figure out if he should be nervous, laugh, or think it’s hot that Charlotte is staking her claim right now, running her hand along his hair, face and chest as she pretends to smile at Helene. 

Eric clears his throat stepping further into the room himself. “Charlotte, something smells great, and it came when you did so either you smell amazing or you cooked something.”

“Oh, I,” She takes a piece of blue tupperware out of the bag, placing it in front of Lip. “I made you lunch, you didn’t eat breakfast this morning and you didn’t take lunch so…I thought we could eat and talk, but, I see you’re busy.” 

Lip turns to her, voice softening as he grabs her hand. “Bunny, I’m sure I can-”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Eric sighs, tapping his own forehead. “I meant to give you some assignments from my dad, I know it’s your lunch break, but you’d have to stay late otherwise.”

“Fuck.” Lips breathes, running his hand through his hair. 

“It’s alright bro, I could take Charlotte to lunch.” Eric offers, not withering under the looks he received from the couple. “My girlfriend and I are meeting up anyway, let the girls hang out and spend my money, Becca’s always looking for a partner in crime.”

Charlotte looks at an apprehensive Lip. And she knows it’s wrong, but the way he and the cradle robber across the desk interact makes her feel petty. “Sure, if Lip’s busy.”

Lip fixes Charlotte with a look of betrayal that has her questioning her decision, but Eric is already guiding her away from him out of the door. Yeah, fuck that. Lip thinks, grinding his teeth as he goes to follow them out of the door. Helene’s hand shoots out to stop him before he can get far. “Oh, and Lip, before you get back to work, there’s a work dinner for all of the different departments that I’m hoping you’ll attend. I mean, I know your boss, Mr. Avery is excited to meet you there.”

“Look, uh, Helene, I mean, thank you for all of this. For the job, recommending me and shit, but,” He scratches his nose, “the texts, the calls, they have to stop. Like, now you’re visiting, and that’s weird, you see I have a girlfriend so…”

“Of course, I wouldn’t ever want to disrespect that, I just thought, after everything, we could be friends.” Helene stands, grabbing her purse. “Well, I can see now that’s inappropriate. But you really should come to this party. It’s good for your career to make friends and shake hands. Bring Charlotte with you.” 

Lip tucks his head, “I dunno, I don’t…don’t really think Charlotte is gonna be in the mood, we uh, need to talk.”

“No matter what was going on, my husband and I always made it to each other’s work functions. We always supported each other’s careers. If someone can’t do that for you, are they really the one?”

The young man recoils, frowning at the implication. Yes. She is. Period. Full stop. They were out of tune today, but Lip knows what he knows. And he knows he and Charlotte are there for each other. He knows they love each other. He knows that these past few months were the best of his life. Even when he and Charlotte weren’t on good terms, he knew he wouldn’t want to be struggling to communicate with anyone else. “You uh, mean ex-husband. And she’ll be there.”

Helene barely hides the hurt look on her face before she lets out a short, “Great.” 

“Do you think this is okay?”  Charlotte twirls, the skirt of her brown dress flaring around her gives Lip ideas that he knows he shouldn’t be having. Especially while they were fighting. Kinda. Something else he’s learned over these last few months is that Charlotte holds stuff in. When she’s upset she doesn’t explode like his family does, shit like he does. Breaking property, getting arrested, fighting. She doesn’t withhold affection like Helene and Karen used to. No, she still let him touch her. Quietly letting him press his lips to her cheeks, not moving when he rubs his hips, bringing him lunch. It was the stillness. The angry tears. The lack of warmth that let Lip know things were strained. And it hurts. 

“You look great, bunny. Fuckin’ beautiful.” Lip says from his bed, tapping his cigarette ashes into Ian’s ashtray.

“Okay, good. You ready?” Charlotte asks, smoothing her hands over her dress as she looks in the mirror. Her voice is so devoid of emotion, but her eyes are extremely expressive. Big brown pools full of sadness as they meet his in their reflection. 

But Lip is new to this. New to trying to maintain. New to trying to keep someone of value. “Babe, uh, should we talk or somethin’?”

Charlotte takes a deep breath before turning to Lip with a tired smile. “Later. Let’s get you to your work thing and after you wow them with your big genius brain, we’ll leave early and try to get on the same page.”

“Yeah?” he stands, looking down at her.

Charlotte just shrugs, reaching over and adjusting his tie with a small smile playing at her lips. “Yeah.”

And that’s the game plan. When they arrive at the party, which they find is being hosted at a friend of the company’s house. If one could call it that. It looks like a fucking mansion, down to the marble columns. Lip felt out of place, everyone here looked so…expensive, and not in the ‘I worked my ass off way’. He felt different than he did when he’d met Helene’s friends back when they were hooking up. The only thing preventing the bounce in his leg as he basically paraded his intelligence to the highest bidder with the future of his family on the line, was Charlotte’s soft, steady hand on him at all times. Fingers intertwined with his. Rubbing circles on his back. Rested on his thigh as she leaned into him. All Lip could think about was the fact that he was here for her, for them. He could secure their futures together if he turned this internship into a permanent job. He could…could…shit. Is that what he wants? Hell, is that what she wants?

Lip’s thoughts are interrupted by Eric and Rebecca’s entrance. The latter immediately beams as she sees Charlotte, squeezing her way between crowds of people, turning her nose up at a tray of hors d'oeuvres being passed in front of her face. “Lottie!” she cheers, tugging Charlotte up by her hands, pulling her into a hug. “You look gorgeous my love, who are you wearing?”

“Um, I’m sorry, my mother got me this dress, but if you wanna pull the tag out-”

“Oh, no, honey it’s fine. You can call me with outfit details later, I need to go find Eric’s bitch of a mother.” she murmurs under her breath. “Sorry I couldn’t make lunch earlier, but thanks so much for reminding that asshole to bring me something. It’d be just like him to go to my favorite restaurant and bring me nothing.” Rebecca scoffs, tossing her hair before fixing a fake smile on her face, leaving to find her boyfriend’s mother. 

“You,” Lip pauses, laughing in disbelief as he stands, looking between Eric and Charlotte. “You went to lunch together. Alone.” He nods to himself, still chuckling, slowly walking closer to Eric. 

“Phillip.” Charlotte tries, putting her hand on his arm. “Phillip, we were already there when Rebecca said she wasn’t coming, stop.”

“Yeah, man, it’s nothing serious, I just took your girl to lunch, she’s probably never been to the nicer restaurants in Chicago before-”

“Man, I’m about to knock your fuckin’ head off.” the blond continues, calmly putting his drink down, the force making a sound that gathers the attention of passersby. Charlotte tugs at Lip again, pleading to him his ear, telling him to go get their jackets and she’d use the bathroom. 

“Please, Phillip. Please. Just go get the jackets. Please. We don’t have to talk to him. Please.” she begs, cupping his face. Eric huffs as he watches the woman coddle her boyfriend and takes a deep swig of his drink wandering off to go find Rebecca. 

Lip runs an angry hand through his hair stalking off to the room where the jackets are being kept without saying a word, trying to maintain his temper. But of fucking course. Of course he’d meet a girl like Charlotte. Of course she’d make him fall in love with her, and like a fucking idiot, he would. And of course they’d meet a jackass like fuckin’ Eric who wanted her, who could give her the things she deserved like nice dinners, cars, houses, the pretty fucking outfits she likes to wear. He could give her that without planning for months, saving, taking money in and out of their joint savings to take care of his batshit family. Lip slams the door behind him, going to sift through the coats before pausing, hearing sniffling from the other side of the room. “Uh, hello?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” a watery voice says, stepping out from the closet area Helene is clutching a tissue in her hand, going over to Lip. “I’m sorry, it’s just-” her words are cut off by sobs.

“Uh, shit, sit down.” Lip says, guiding her to sit on the bed in the room. 

“I…my son just called, let me know he made it back to school okay. And…it slipped in conversation, his father went on a date. He’s started seeing someone. I’d thought…he’d maybe surprise me by coming here. Oh, and I was so rude about Charlotte earlier, but my partner is the one not here.”

Lip watches awkwardly as the older woman sobs, placing his hand on her shoulder after a moment, glancing around. Sure he felt bad for her, but after all this time, he’d realized she really had been a bitch to him. And her ex-husband. He’d thought so highly of her before, thought she was the best thing that would ever happen to him. Now she was crumpling in front of him and he could barely bring himself to comfort her. “Sorry. But, I thought that was like…you guys’ thing. Fucking other people.”

“No, that was more me, he…tolerated it.” 

“Oh. That’s…shitty.” Lip whistles.

“It is.” Helene sighs, sniffing one last time. She wipes her face before fully looking at Lip. “I think I was filling some kind of void you know? Low self-esteem, issues with aging, I have them all. The only relationship I had outside of my marriage that meant anything is you.” 

They hadn’t even heard it. At least, Lip hadn’t. The door opening. The sound of Charlotte coming to check on him since he hadn’t returned with their jackets. But he did hear her curse before slamming the door. He couldn’t move fast enough, leaving Helene behind he slips between the bodies of movers and shakers in scattered throughout the house, swinging open the door and running down the steps, finding Charlotte stumbling in the grass as she kicks off her heels, grumbling. “Charlotte!”

He catches up to her quickly, grabbing the car keys from the valet stopping at Kev’s truck. The woman keeps walking, head held high as she limps out of the gate. “Charlotte, are you serious? Get in the car.”

“No!” 

“Fucksake.” he growls, getting into the car and backing out of the driveway, following alongside her slowly as she makes her way on foot. “It’s fucking dark, get in the car.”

“Leave me alone.” she huffs, crossing her arms, whining to herself about the dirt touching her feet.

The muscle in Lip’s jaw jumps, his scowl going deeper. He reaches over and lights a cigarette, smoking out of the window. “You know, you’re the one who went on a fuckin’ date with someone else today.” 

Charlotte laughs, speeding up. “It wasn’t a fuckin’ date. His girlfriend was supposed to go, and she canceled. We were already there, and you were too busy eye-fucking that old professor that you conveniently left out you used to literally fuck.” 

“I really don’t wanna talk about eye-fucking when you get naked for half of Chicago, alright?” Lip grits. Too far. He knows it immediately. He watches her stop, and look at him with hurt he never wants to see, her tear tracks shining in the lights from the streets. His own eyes glisten with unshed tears. He puts the car in park, cigarette still balanced between his lips as he hops out walking around the side and grabbing a kicking, protesting Charlotte by her waist, tossing her over his shoulder. Lip places her in the car and slams the passenger door before getting back into the driver’s seat, staring forward at the road.

Charlotte pettily snatches the cigarette from his mouth, opening her window and flicking it to the road. “Why didn’t you tell me you dated her?”

The blond takes a deep breath, letting his eyes slip closed. “I was embarrassed, and I thought it’d freak you out. That you’d ask me to quit cause she helped me get the job. And I would if you asked me to.”

“I would too. Quit. If you asked me to.” Charlotte sighs.

“I don’t wanna ask you to do that. You like it, it's good money, shit you just started. But I do hate it. Thought I wouldn’t, but I do.”

“So, we’ll talk about it more. Until we both know where we stand on it.” she says, facing forward too, she's quiet for another beat before speaking again. “I’m telling the truth about Eric.”

“I know.” Lip scrubs his hands down his face. “I know. And I am sorry that I yelled about that stupid shit with Frank. That bullshit just shouldn’t be your problem.” 

“I want it to be my problem. I love your family and I love you. I want to be part of it. I want…I want to be your family. So I care about the money you guys saved being stolen, I care if Liam’s diapers get bought, and I care if Carl gets to go on his field trip.”

“Fuck, bunny, I know you care. I just don’t want you to deal with that shit, it’s fuckin embarrasin’ you having to see my family like that. Having to kick in money for the house.”

“It’s stuff I wanna do. Ian doesn’t walk on eggshells with Mickey. None of you do. You treat him like an honorary Gallagher. Why can’t you do that with me?”

The couple turns to each other now, Lip reaching over the console, grabbing Charlotte’s hand. “You’re fuckin’ better than us, bunny.” He says, one tear finally falling.

Charlotte reaches up, wiping away the drop before smoothing his hair. “You’re gonna stop talkin’ about my boyfriend and our family like that. Nothing is better than you.” She smiles as Lip brings her hand to his mouth kissing her hand. “Well, except Chad in high school musical, I mean, I let the Troy slander go, but he’s different-” she laughs into the kiss that he pulls her into, the two of them smiling into the embrace as they share soft, tender kisses. 

The pair stays like that for a while. Wrapped up in each other. Sitting in the dimly lit car, running Kev’s gas on the side of the road without a care in the world. After a few moments of peace Lip decides to take a risk. It’s a big one, a very Fiona style decision. But those were random loser fuckers who got her off when she was vulnerable. This, this is Charlotte. His Charlotte. Who'd singlehandedly made his life better in the short time she'd been here. Who he loves an unexplainable amount that almost pisses him off. And he’s scared. Fuckin’ terrified. But he has to try.

“Sweetheart, how long have we known each other?”

Charlotte scoffs, playing with his fingers with an absent smile. “Well, three months, but it feels like forever. You know, I never know if people mean that in a good or bad way. I mean it the good way, obviously.” she beams at him, looking into his eyes and finding him with a serious face, her smile fades. “What?”

“Do you work tomorrow?”

“Hm, nope, not supposed to. You?”

His chest tightens as he answers her. He doesn’t believe in stars aligning, or cosmic whatever, but he thinks that this might just be the fate shit that Debbie is spewing all the time that makes no scientific sense. “Nah, I uh…threatened my boss, so I gotta see if I still have a job. I think he has a thing for my hot girlfriend that I’m..I’m uh really in love with.”

“If he does, he doesn't stand a chance. Because I really love my boyfriend.” she hums. If anything was gonna be his confirmation, Lip thinks this is it. Those words were enough. “So what’s with the questions? You wanna do something?” she asks cutely, leaning her cheek into his hand.

This is it.

He looks down into her brown eyes and decides this is what he wants to see forever. Looking at anything else sucks anyway. 

“Yeah, um…”

Just fuckin’ do it pussy.

“You wanna go get married?” 

[polaroidbills]

GET'CHA HEAD IN THE GAME

˚✧₊ ( 🏀 📕 ) sim jake - an imagine

genre/cw: jake x fem!reader, angsty, fluffy, basketball player x nerd(?), kissing, forbidden love(ish)

word count: 3052

synopsis: jake sim is the captain of the basketbal team, but he needs some help with his grades. he decides to ask a random girl at a party, who's reading a book, to be his tutor. they start to fall for each other, but what happens when their friends want them to stick to the status quo?

—> mega inspired by high school musical 1 (jake as troy and y/n as gabriella!)

cameos: yeonjun (txt), beomgyu, (txt), and taehyun (txt)

a/n: i thought of this idea at like 1am. and it's a bit rushed but whatever. enjoy!

now playing... start of something new - hsm

i walk into the house party, with the slight smell of alcohol filling my nose. i find the first empty spot on a secluded couch and start reading.

parties were never really my thing. but my mom forced me to go, since i never go out. she thought it would be nice for me to get to know the people in the neighborhood more, since i just moved here.

music blares into my ear drums as i read.

"really? you're reading at a party like this?" i am interrupted.

"well i guess," i say still keeping my eyes on the book.

i feel the couch dip on my rightside and i turn to see a cute guy sitting next to me.

"i'm jake," he puts his hand right in front of the page to shake it.

i sigh and close the book as he leaves me no choice, "y/n."

"i don't think i've seen you around? are you new?"

"yeah i just moved here a week ago."

"ohh cool cool. so you're into that learning and reading stuff right?"

"uh yeah i guess. my grades are good soo."

"great, 'cause i actually need a tutor.. i'm the captain of the basketball team and i won't be able to continue if my grades keep going down. could you help me?"

of course he chooses a party to pick out the one girl who's reading a book to be his tutor.

"um sure? i guess? that would look good on my resumes."

"great! so i'll see you around? what's your num-"

"yo jake!" a shout from across the room is heard, "c'mere!"

"sorry gotta go! i'll see you in school though right?"

"yeah! uh-" and he's gone. just like that.

i guess i tutor now?

well, tomorrow's my first day anyway.

march 27, 2021 was my first day on junior year in a completely different school. everything was different. i was in a different country, city, timezone, and environment.

my first day went by smoothly. i got to know the school a lot and observed the cliques and groups. no one really noticed me, which didn't bother me at all. i liked being invisible sometimes. i have no worries and no drama.

i sit myself down at a table in the cafeteria and start eating, yet again, opening up my book.

i them feel a sort of presence by my side. i look up and low and behold, jake sim.

from what i've heard, jake sim is the captain of the basketball team, and the son of the coach. pretty much the most popular guy in school, and probably the most good-looking. his number is 16.

"hey," he says sitting down, "whatcha reading?"

"normal people by sally rooney. it's my favourite."

"oh cool cool. um so listen, we could have our first tutor session at free period today? in the library?"

i close my book and look at him, finally getting a good look at his face. he's cute.

"uh sure. i wasn't expecting it to be today but yeah, i'll meet you in the library at free period."

"okay great! oh and could i get your number so just in case something happens?"

"sure!" we exchange numbers and he walks away, going back to his friends, and i go back to my book.

my math class was good too. i was busy copying down notes and equations my teacher was writing down. but i noticed a mistake.

"shouldn't it be x=7? and not x=1?" it appears i sid it out loud a little to loudly.

"i'm sorry? did you have something to say y/n?" my teacher asks.

"uh shouldn't it be x=7?" i ask once again.

"that would be quite literally impossible-" she checks on her calculator, "i stand corrected!"

after class, a girl approaches me.

"hey would you like the join the scholastics decathlon? we have a championship coming up and you would be perfect for our team! i'm minji by the way!"

"oh um sure! i've been trying to get involved a little more and doing things out of my box, so why not?"

"great!"

i am now committed to being a tutor and a scholastic decathlon member. i wonder what's next?

the day zooms by and now it's free period.

i grab my books and head off to the library, where i sit and wait for jake to arrive.

i wait and wait for him. where is he? it's been almost half an hour since we were supposed to start and i'm growing impatient.

i start packing up my things, thinking i've been punked and stood up and that he won't show up. but before i can, a boy comes running down the library and in front of me.

"i'm- sorry i'm- late i- had to avoid- sunghoon 'cause he wanted- to play ball," obviously out of breath jake explains himsef as he sits down.

"well let's get started!" i hurriedly get straight into it, not wanting to waste time.

"and don't forget that x is the variable not just a random letter."

"woah it makes soo much more sense now!"

i finish the lesson up smoothly after about an hour.

"thank you so much! i really appreciate this! tomorrow again?"

"yeah sure! and i can check your homework answers then!"

we close our books and grab our things, leaving the library.

its been about two weeks since i've been tutoring jake. and he's made a lot of progress. we've aso been getting a lot closer. we're friends now.

i ended up telling minji about it and she gave me mixed feelings. she told me that the scholastic decathlon is in two weeks and i need to focus on it, and not on jake. i didn't know how to respond, i just nodded and walked away.

(jake's pov)

i have another tutor session today with y/n. and its been heping a lot. i got an a in my math class, and a b in english.

we're also a lot closer than before. we've even hung out outside of school and tutoring. like to a coffee shop or something. i'm starting to really like her i think. i mean she's pretty, smart, kind, and soo helpful. i don't know if she feels the same though.

i leave for the library. and as i open the door, sunghoon steps in front of me.

"so you've been ditching playing ball during free period to go to the library? really? basketball during free period is our thing."

"i'm sorry. it's just if i keep my bad grades, i won't be able to play basketball. so i need to study-"

"jake!" y/n waves to me and sunghoon turns to see who it is. i return the wave and continue the conversation with sunghoon.

"who's that? isn't that the new girl?"

"oh uh yeah. she's been tutoring me- and it's really helping."

"you've been ditching me to study with her?"

"uh yeah i guess. she's really smart and helpful and i think i'm starting to like her."

"look- i gotta go, but all i have to say is to stick to basketball. don't go dating a nerd and start being all book wormy. and don't forget the championship game is in two weeks."

as he walks away, i'm left speechless.

stick to basketball? i'm just trying to get my grades up, right? or is he right? am i just using these sessions to get closer to y/n?

i shake my head, shoo away those thoughts, and make my way to y/n.

(y/n's pov)

i see jake finish his conversation and make his way to me.

"look! i brought snacks this time!"

"oh cool."

"you seem down, is something up?" i notice his slouchy posture and low voice.

"no it's nothing."

"you sure? you know you can tell me anything right?"

"yeah i just really don't wanna talk about it right now."

"oh that's okay. hmm i think i have something that can cheer you up! come with me!" i grab his wrist and run to the school gym.

when i grab his wrist, electricity shoots through me. i really like him. i can't explain it. the way his hair flows, his honey-like smile, and the way he csn make me laugh no matter what. i'm in love.

"the gym?"

"yeah! we're gonna play some basketball!" i grab a ball from the rack.

"really? you know how to play?" he walks to me.

"well- no. not exactly." i shoot the ball, but it completely air balls and misses the basket.

"i'll teach you."

jake walks closer to me and shows how to position myself to shoot.

"bend your knees and elbows and jump. don't forget to follow through with your other hand."

i follow his steps and attempt to shoot, but again it completely misses. laughing it off, i grab the ball to try again.

"here- could i touch you?" he gestures to my elbow and hands.

i keep my eyes on the ball, not daring to look him in the eye. it's too dangerous.

"this like this," he moves my elbow more, so it's bent. "andd your hand over here," he places my hand on the side of the ball.

my heart is racing. he's never been this close.

"and shoot!" i throw the ball and it actually makes it into the net. swish!

"ah! i did it! it went in!" i gasp turning to jake jumping into the air.

the surprised look on his face is so cute.

"look at us! we help each other!" i say and peck him on the cheek.

i turn around to shoot again. but i feel a hand on my wrist.

jake grabs my wrist and turns me back to him. i'm struck and can't move. he comes closer to me. even closer than before. i drop the ball as he closes the space and puts his lips on mine.

we're kissing. i didn't know he felt this way too.

the kiss is slowly and lovely. but he pulls apart to breath.

i stare into his eyes.

"y/n i really like you. like really really like you. you're all i think about."

i'm speechless at the sudden confession. but i'm glad to hear how he feels.

"and you might not-"

"i really like you too!" i interrupt him. his eyes instantly light up. and he starts to smile.

"really?"

"yes. i've been waiting for you to make a move."

"well i'm making it now. will you be my girlfriend?"

"yes."

a week had gone by of me and jake dating. i can't believe it's real. we're together. like for real.

i've never been happier.

(sunghoon's pov)

i walk over to mingi, y/n's best friend to come up with a plan.

"look i have a plan, and i hope it works."

we wait for jake in the locker room before practice. we created a presentation for him.

he walks in and we start.

"choi yeonjun! class of '99 captain, championship mvp, and legend! also known as ace!" i start off.

"choi beomgyu! class of '01 captain and championship mvp! also known as baller beom!" jay continues.

"kang taehyun! class of '02 captain and championship mvp! also known as lightning!" heeseung adds.

"no one of which were involved in books and studying. they won these games because they kept their eyes on the prize and didn't get distracted with books days before the championship game."

"get your head in the game!"

"look guys if you don't think i'll give it my 110% into this game, then you don't know me," we start setting up the camera.

"but we just thought-"

"no here's what i thought. i thought we were a team, i thought we were friends. we lose and win together."

"but then the girl and the studying."

"dude i'm for the team! i've always been for the team!"

(y/n's pov)

i am sat down by minji.

"in a world full of poverty and inequality, a game of basketball plays. though it's entertaining and fun, it provides nothing for this world! thats is the world of jake sim. rather than genorousity and change, he has slam dunks and fouls! unlike oprah winfrey and eleanor roosevelt. that is the inevitable world of jake sim."

"um i have a tutor session soon. i should really go."

"y/n! pay attention."

"dude i'm for the team! i've always been for the team!" the screen plays. i turn to the screen which shows jake.

"and the girl is just someone i met! alright? and the studying is nothing, it means nothing to me! it's probably just a way to ease my nerves and distract me! i don't know. but you're my guys and my team. y/n means nothing to me! i'll forget about her and the studying! are you happy now?"

suddenly it feels as if my heart has been shattered and stomped on like glass.

this is how jake really feels. it all meant nothing.

"this is the real world of jake sim."

tears starts filling up into my eyes. as they flow i realize how jake just used me for grades.

i walk out of the room not wanting to be there any longer.

a few minutes later i reach my locker to grab mu things and leave.

"hey! what's up?" jake comes up beside me but i ignore. "there's something i wanna talk about with you."

"yeah about how i meant nothing to you and that i'm just some girl you met? and how you can just forget about me?"

"y/n-"

"i really liked you jake. how could you?" i walk away as tears form in my eyes once again.

"y/n?"

the doorbell is heard and my mom answers the door. i walk halfway down the stairs.

"hi mrs. y/l/n, i'm jake."

"ohh so you're jake," i gesture to my mom to not let him in or tell him i'm here.

"is y/n here?"

"oh um sorry she isn't here right now."

"oh. that's okay, thanks though," he walks away and i go back upstairs.

the next few days go by and now the scholastic decathlon is in two days.

i've been doing everything in my power to avoid jake. in the cafeteria i sit at a different table. and i turn the other way if i see him, completely disregarding him.

minji could clearly see how hurt i was, i couldn't even focus on studying or reading. i just spaced out, and ignored everyone.

jake has tried to talk to me multiple times, but seeing that i wasn't going to talk to him, he stopped trying.

"y/n! the decathlon is in two days! pay attention!"

"i'm sorry it's just- my mind is in a different place."

"look y/n. i have something to tell you," minji sits.

"we knew sunghoon could make jake say things like that. we planned it all. we thought what jake would say would keep your mind focused on the decathlon. but it seems to have done the opposite."

"you planned it all?"

"yes. sunghoon made jake say those things."

"no one made jake say anything. be said those things himself."

(jake's pov)

what have i done? she completely ignores me and avoids me every chance she gets.

words can't explain how empty and bad i feel.

sunghoon see it too. i keep missing simple lay-ups or space out in the middle of practice. clearly not keeping my head in the game.

i don't know what to do.

"jake! pass the ball!"

"oh sorry-"

"dude the championship game is in two days."

"sorry man. my mind keeps getting distracted. i don't even know what i did."

"i know."

"what?"

"our team and the scholastic decathlon team made a plan to keep your guys' heads focused. but it didn't work. i made you say those things in the locker room and we live streaming it onto minji's computer. y/n was watching and heard what you said. we thought it would help you not get distracted."

"you did what?" i run out of the gym, in a hurry to y/n's house. i wasn't planning on doing this today, but it's now or never.

(y/n's pov)

my phone rings.

jake &lt;3

i decide to pick it up this time.

"hello?"

"y/n. i'm sorry. i know you might not forgive me but please. i could never forget about you. you've been on my mind 24/7. i can't even focus during practice. my life without you is a misery. please come back."

"jake i don't know- you said i meant nothing."

"i know i did. and no excuse could make up for it. but just know that i love you. i love you so much. please."

"jake-"

"i got you something before you say anything else."

"jake what?"

"turn around."

i turn around to the window and there stands jake on my balcony. a surprised smile plays on my face. i walk over to open the door and hang up the phone.

"what're you doing here?"

"i got you this," he hands me a book.

"no way. you did not. A SIGNED COPY?! oh my god! thank you!!" i impulsively pull him into a hug, not thinking. "oh sorry," i awkwardly laugh.

"no no it's okay. i liked it, " he smiles.

"look y/n. i'm so sorry. words couldn't describe it so i thought i could give you this instead. open the pages."

i open the book. "oh. my. god. jake." i'm in awe.

"you annotated it? thats so sweet! thank you! yes i forgive you."

"yes!" he jumps up and down cutely in celebration. "thankyou thankyou thankyou! look i even wrote down a playlist for you in the book, so you can listen while you read or just whenever! anddd just in case you didn't dorgive me now, i wrote down an extra apology on the last page!"

i laugh at his rapid words.

"and i-" i steal his lips for a second to kiss him. and he's left speechless.

"i-" he pulls me in another time to put his lips on mine. and we pull away.

"i love you y/n."

"i love you too jake."

@polaroidbills please DO NOT copy, plagiarize, or repost any of my work.

[miguelswifey04]

puhleasee do where gabriella bringing over her gringo friend over to her parents house and they give miguel and y/n the most blandest unseasoned white food ever as a gift and miguel’s just like “oh…😦”

this shit got me DYINGGGG

🪴🪴🪴🪴🪴🪴🪴🪴🪴🪴🪴🪴🪴🪴🪴🪴

“i’d like for you guys to meet, max!” gabriella introduces max to you and miguel in which you both were happily delighted to meet gabriella’s new friend. you both shook hands and conversed a little with max. to your surprise max had bought food he had cooked to you both as a kind gesture. miguel was taken aback since none of gabriella’s friends have ever done something so kind and so miguel appreciated the gesture. you were happy to know your daughter had brought a good friend like max who had manners and good morals.

gabriella, max, you, and miguel make your way to the dinner table as you all sit in your seats and talk about anything that comes to mind. max as generous and kind as he is offered to serve you all plates of his very “unseasoned” food. miguel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his mouth slightly agape. he struggles to conceal his bewilderment, his mind racing to comprehend the peculiar offering before him. the blandness of the gift is far from what he anticipated and certainly different from the vibrant and flavorful cuisine he's accustomed to.

you, on the other hand, aware of the importance of being polite and considerate to guests, make an effort to maintain a composed demeanor. though you can't help but share a brief glance of surprise with miguel, you quickly recollect yourself. you put on a pleasant smile, offering gratitude for the well-intentioned but decidedly plain gift.

"thank you so much," you say, careful to keep a polite tone. "this is... an interesting choice. we appreciate the gesture." the last words leave your lips with a slight twinge of humor, as if acknowledging the unexpected and amusing nature of the gift.

“oh, of course, i’m so glad you like it,” max exclaimed as he sat down and immediately went downtown on his food. gabriella, noticed her parents’ bewildered expressions and couldn’t help but feel embarrassed of her friend, max. she didn’t except max to be so unskilled in his cooking but nonetheless she couldn’t say anything to her friend.

meanwhile, miguel is still struggling to find the right words. he clears his throat and, with a touch of incredulity in his voice, manages to say, "oh... um, thank you. this is quite... unexpected." he tries his best to maintain a neutral expression, not wanting to offend or seem unappreciative, but his surprise and confusion are difficult to hide.

gabriella slightly kicks miguel’s knee under the table giving him the “DAD! please, be nice” kind of look. max was oblivious and so engrossed in his own deliciousness. miguel did his best to compose himself and you, you couldn’t help but chuckle. your excuse was that you thought of something funny and everyone decided to laugh with you.

the awkwardness of the situation hangs in the air, and miguel and you exchange a glance, silently sharing a mix of disbelief and amusement. it becomes a shared moment of understanding, a covert acknowledgement that the blandness of the gift is an unintentional source of comedy. of course there was some cultural gaps but at least this was more so of a funny moment that all of you will never forget.

———

a/n: i know miguel was trying his hardest not to be outright rude 😭

tags 🏷️: @kairiscorner

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Fuck it Friday

I was tagged by @girlwonder-writes 🙂

This is from my Tevan and Tarlos dad story, which also takes place in the Team Kinard universe. In this scene, the four dads are out on a double date while the 126 are babysitting Tommy and Buck's son Emmett and TK and Carlos' daughter Gabriella.

***

The two couples settled into their booth at the Tex-Mex restaurant, the aroma of spices and sizzling fajitas filling the air. After ordering their drinks and some appetizers, the conversation flowed easily.

"So, Tommy," TK asked, leaning forward slightly, "when did you know you were gay?"

Tommy thought for a moment before answering, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Well, I guess a part of me always knew, but I didn't really recognize it until freshman year of high school. I was on the baseball team and couldn't stop staring and thinking how good my teammates' asses looked in those tight baseball pants."

The table erupted in laughter, with Buck giving Tommy's hand a squeeze under the table.

"So you came out in high school?" Carlos asked, curious.

Tommy's expression sobered. "No, definitely not. I was closeted for almost 20 years after that. My dad was a massive homophobe and it wasn't safe for me to be gay in that environment. Then I was in the military during Don't Ask, Don't Tell, so I just became more and more miserable and closeted."

A moment of understanding silence fell over the table. TK and Carlos exchanged glances, recognizing the pain in Tommy's voice.

Buck, sensing Tommy's discomfort, spoke up. "But look at you now, babe. You're out, proud, and married to the hottest firefighter in LA." He winked, trying to lighten the mood.

Tommy chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Damn right, sweetheart."

TK smiled. "It's amazing how far we've all come, isn't it? I mean, look at us now - two queer couples on a double date, all of us in jobs we love, being who we are without hiding."

Carlos nodded in agreement. "It's not always easy, but it's worth it to live authentically."

As they savored their appetizers, Tommy turned to TK and Carlos. "What about you guys? How were your coming out experiences?"

TK grinned, setting down his fork. "Well, my story's probably not as dramatic as some. I grew up in Manhattan with very liberal parents. I was out and proud before I'd even had my Bar Mitzvah."

"Seriously?" Buck asked, eyebrows raised. "That young?"

TK nodded. "Yeah, I was lucky. My parents were incredibly supportive. Being gay was just... normal in our household. It was never a big deal."

All eyes then turned to Carlos, who took a sip of his drink before speaking. "My experience was... complicated. I came out when I was 17. My parents hugged me, and then... never mentioned it again."

The table quieted, sensing the weight of Carlos's words.

Carlos continued, "I ended up shoving myself back into the closet and even married my high school best friend." He paused, glancing at TK with a soft smile. "It wasn't until I started dating TK that I finally had a real conversation with my parents about it."

"How did that go?" Tommy asked gently.

"Better than I expected, actually," Carlos replied. "Everything's good now. My mom is great, and my dad... he had fully accepted me before he passed away. He was even supposed to be the best man at our wedding."

TK squeezed Carlos's hand supportively.

"I'm glad it worked out in the end," Buck said sincerely.

Tommy nodded in agreement. "To living our truths, whether we figured them out early or later in life," he said, raising his glass.

The others joined in the toast, the clink of their glasses punctuating the moment of shared understanding.

No pressure tags:

@typicalopposite @cosyvelvetorchid

[hannahhook7744]

Descendants Background Characters Names (Redone) Part 4;

Crysta (Blonde girl), one daughter of Arista (Ariel's sister) and Dylan. Seaside High was in serious danger of overcrowding, so quite a few students were encouraged to attend Auradon Prep instead.

Brian Robinson (glasses guy), son of Lewis and Franny Robinson.

Aqua, one daughter of Aquata (Ariel's sister) and Nexar.

Sitara, daughter of Mowgli and Shanti.

Trevor, the son of Big Nose and Assunta.

Prince Henry (the guy behind Mal and Lonnie), son of King Richard the Lionheart. He's supposed to go to Sherwood High, but he got expelled.

Shira (girl behind Evie), daughter of Ariel's friend, Gabriella. One of the Seaside students who transferred.

Leon du Lac (guy beside Evie) son of Lancelot du Lac and Elaine of Astolat (he's an exchange student).

The girls behind him are Mary and Dorothy, daughters of Tiana's friend, Georgia.

The red head girl under him is Sigrid, daughter of Kai and Gerda.

Adonis Jr aka AJ (right next to Lonnie), son of Adonis and Helen of Troy. His older siblings attend Olympus High, but his father thought he was too nerdy to compete.

Silvie (behind AJ), daughter of Sharma.

The girls below him are Princesses Noelle and Natasha, daughters of Cavin and Princess Calla.

Guy in stripes is named Prince Rowan, son of Wee Dingwall.

Girl in yellow beneath him is Celestina Potts, youngest daughter of Mrs. Potts.

Guy in a blue T-shirt is named Samuel 'Sammy' Sweet, son of Joshua Sweet.

Guy in a yellow T-shirt is named Makaio Bubbles, son of Cobra Bubbles from Lilo and Stitch (Bubbles adopted him from an unsuitable home).

The guy below them is Prince Ajax, son of Prince Thor and Pearl. One of the Seaside transfer students.

The guy next to Makaio is Prince Reynard, son of Princess Willow.

The girl next to him is Princess Wenhua 'Wen', daughter of Yao and Princess Mei, who flat out refused to go to the Imperial Academy.

Guy below her is Johannes Little, son of Little John.

Salvatrix Mim aka Sad Sally Mim, granddaughter of Madam Mim.

Elphaba West, daughter of Theodora (aka the Wicked Witch of the West).

Orlie, daughter of Orddu.

Owena, daughter of Orwen and Bill Jukes (she's the youngest member of Uma's crew).

Morven Mim, aka Mimpathy Morven, grandson of Madam Mim.

Farley-Fletcher Fflam, son of Fflewddur Fflam.

Maureen 'Goo' Yagoobian, Michael 'Goob' Yagoobian.

Murky Maggie Mim, granddaughter of Madam Mim (she has four legs. This may or may not be Dorothy Tremaine's fault).

Ula and Uziel, daughter and son of Uliana.

Shepherd Scaremonger, Aka the Boy Who Cried Wolf.

Ichabod 'Icey' White, son of Snow White and Prince Florian. Along with Princesses Noelle again and Audrey.

Princess Natasha again.

The girl next to her is Rebecca, daughter of Safi.

Felicidad Daniela Ruíz, she's the daughter of one of the Encanto villagers. The boy next to her is Prince Ajax again.

Jonas again.

The girl below him is Adda Slim, daughter of Alameda Slim.

The guy next to Jonas is Morven Mim again.

Dizzy Tremaine.

Guy next to her is Abner, son of Captain Gantu.

Girl next to him is Tara, daughter of King Trevor.

Guy behind her is Blaise, son of Morgie.

Guy in the pirate hat is Sean, the son of the Sherriff of Nottingham (He's a member of Uma's Crew).

The girl behind him is Susan Finkelstein, Dr. Finkelstein.

The girl next to him is Quinlynn Hearts, daughter of the Queen of Hearts (and member of Harriet Hook's Crew).

 Axel, son of the Huntsman. 

Bathsheba (girl with the bandana), daughter of Ammand the Corsair.

Rummy Bloodbeard (boy behind bandana girl), son of Captain Bloodbeard.

Kevar (Kid in pirate hat next to Bandana girl), son of Marquis de Bouillabaisse.

Daang (First kid in goggles), son of Ed.

Niki (Red Head Girl), daughter of Hecate.

Birger (Kid with green hat), son of Loki.

Desmend (2nd kid with goggles) , son of Ed.

Harlan Alan Never, son of Arika the Mermaid.

Vidal Pezmuerto, son of Señora Pezmuerto.

The girls in the pink dress next to Uma and Elle are Annika and Raylene Jenkins, the daughters of Coach Jenkins.

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

Thanks @igetthedisneybox and @casinotrio1965 for the help.