#oscar's gummy smile
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Grill the Grid
Guys, I'm sorry this is so short. I've had a bout of writers block but still wanted to get another chapter out. I will be going back to working on the regular chapters soon! But enjoy this take on Grill the Grid!
Like always - comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Much love :D
Key for this chapter:
regular text - just normal speaking
bold - words on the flip boards
italics - scene change
bold italics - the narrator lady
Episode One: Radio Show
A quick snapshot of each driver shows up before the opening title of “Grill the Grid” crosses the screen.
You quickly showed up and clapped your hands.
“Welcome ladies and gents to another season of Drive to Survive.” You showed a cheeky smile as you winked to the camera.
“Can you please state your name and what team you drive for?”
You sighed as you thought. “Christian is going to kill me if I can't remember all of it.” You looked back at the camera. “My name is Y/n L/n and I drive for the Honda RBPT Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula One Team.”
“That is correct.”
Your eyes widened as you started to laugh. “I didn’t think I’d get that.”
The lady behind the camera smiled. “Max didn’t get the entire thing.”
You stared at the camera like you were on the office before turning to someone off camera to the side. “Do I get a point for that?”
The video now cut to Max.
Max had his hands on his side, head down before he looked back up.
He had a nervous smile as he tried to think. “Yeah, I don’t know. Red Bull Racing?” He shrugged as multiple people around him laughed.
“It’s actual Honda RBPT Oracle Red Bull Racing.”
Max rolled his eyes. “How is anyone supposed to remember that?”
“Y/n did.”
“Of course.”
Words flashed on the screen signaling to viewers the actual start of the episode. Multiple familiar faces showed as they all stood next to a board with multiple flaps of paper.
Lando smugly looked at the title and then to the camera. “I got this in the bag.”
“How do you think you’ll do?”
Oscar was now on screen. “Uhhhhh.” He didn’t have time to answer.
“I think I’ll do ok. I’m not too familiar with other team’s radios, but I can try?” A red-clad Monegasque questioned himself.
The drivers all flipped the first page.
--He better get me more stroopwaffles after that. Asshole--
You flipped the first page and barely glanced at it before answering. “Lando.”
“Lando.” Max also flipped.
Oscar, Daniel, Charles, and Carlos at once, “Lando.”
Lando just stared into the camera. “Me?”
You smiled back at the camera. “This was at Zandvoort right? After Max kinda bumped him.”
“He pushed me off the track! Bumped is an understatement.” Lando now flipped the next page and leaned back to laugh. “Y/n.”
--Speed. I am Speed. One winner, 19 losers. I eat losers for breakfast--
Max, once again, barely glanced before answering, “Y/n.”
Lance looked around trying to get a hint. He couldn’t find one. “Logan? I know he’s watched the Cars movies.”
Logan laughed as well before shaking his head. “Y/n.”
“Me.” Your face flushed red. “Truthfully, I didn’t know the radio was on.”
Oscar made a noise as he thought. “I want to say Logan because he recently watched that. But my heart wants to say Y/n.”
“Is that your final answer.”
“Yes.”
“That’s correct.”
Fernando, Carlos, Daniel, and Alex flipped the page. “Y/n.”
--This is what she gets for telling me to use my mirrors. AHA! Does she even have her driver’s license?--
“Aha! This is Daniel.” You stood looking at the next page. “So in quali, he almost hit me in turn four during my flying lap and I told him to use his mirrors in the race. Well, he overtook me in the first lap and I fell behind.” Your smile disappeared as you looked right into the camera. “And yes, I have my driver’s license.”
Daniel almost fell to his knees as he read the next one. His gummy smile almost took over his face. “This is me to Y/n.”
Max just looked lost. “Who said this?”
“Daniel.”
“Oh.”
Episode Two: Champions Part 2
“So do you know what’s next?”
You looked confused as you looked around the empty space. “Well there’s no board here?”
Charles shrugged. “It could be anything. I certainly hope that this season we won’t have to list the champions in some order again.”
Max looked around with a confused look. “Again?”
Lewis rolled his eyes. “Man I knew I should have gone back and actually memorized them.”
“There’s no way someone is getting all of them. Sebastian is gone.” Lando shrugged.
It was now back to Charles who looked a bit more pale. A loud beep sounded on a views screen as he looked down.
You once again clapped. “I knew all those Wikipedia pages would come in handy. Are we starting from newest to oldest or oldest to newest.”
“Any way you want.”
You looked up in thought as you started to list. “Ok. Max was in 2023, 2022, 2021. Then Lewis in 2020, 2019, 1028, 2017. Nico won in 2016 then it was back to Lewis in ’15 and ’14. Seb won from 2013 to 2010…”
Max sighed before he started. “Uh, me in 2023 to 2021. Then Lewis until 2014.”
“Incorrect. Nico won in 2016.”
Max hummed. “Uh, Nico in ’16. Then Lewis to ’14. I know Seb won in 2013.”
It was back to you. “And then Michael Schumacher again in 2010, which was his first with Ferrari. Then it was Hakkinen in ’99 and ’98. Uh, Villeneuve in 1997 who was preceded by Hill in 1996. Then it was back to Schumi in ’95 and ’94.”
Lando looked lost.
Charles was still pale but he tried. “It was Max, Lewis, Nico, Lewis again. Then Seb then Lewis again?”
“You’re forgetting another Mercedes Driver.”
Charles looked even more confused. “Uh.”
“Jensen Button in 2009.”
“He was in Mercedes?” Charles just ended up walking off.
Back to you. “Mario Andretti was the last American in 1978. Niki and Hunt danced around from 1977 to 1976. Then it was Fittipaldi, Stewart, Fittpaldi, Stewart, Rindt, Stewart respectfully in 1975, 1974, 1973, 1972, 1971, and 1970.”
Oscar looked as if he was having a stroke.
Logan ran a hand down his face. “I only know Andretti in 1978 and then Phil Hill in 1961. You know. Go America!”
Fernando tried but couldn’t get past the nineties. Yet he had a smile on his face. “Y/n got all of these right, correct?”
“She was the only one.”
“Shut up, no she wasn’t.” Lando didn’t believe it.
“Of course she did.” Max could only chuckle. “She would brag and brag about this in the plane.”
“And then Ascari in 1952, then Fangio in 1951, and finally Farina in 1950!” You had a proud look on your face. “I knew I could do it. Did I miss any?”
“Nope.”
Episode Three: Guess These Headlights
Charles, who had now recovered from his bout of PTSD, suddenly looked excited. “Now here is something I can do.”
“Are you a car guy?”
“Definitely.” Carlos responded with a smug look. “I grew up around cars.”
“I mean. I know my McLarens?” Oscar questioned. “This is going to be hard.”
Lando looked ready. “Let’s get this going.”
You looked determined. “Bring it on.” You flipped the first page. “Ah. That’s a classic. A Ferrari F40.” You turned back to the camera. “If I didn’t have my Porsches, I would have bought an F40.” A far away thoughtful look crossed your face. “Maybe I’ll still get one. I’ll ask Charles. He can get me one.”
Charles quickly answered “F40” and then flipped. “Ah. This is McLaren P1.”
“McLaren P1,” Oscar answered. “The logo is in the headlights. Pretty helpful.”
Daniel flipped the next one and stood back, hands on his hips. “I know Max has this car. But I can’t remember the name.”
Lance finally looked as though he knew what it was. “This is the Aston Valkyrie.”
Fernando also guessed it correctly. “Aston Valkyrie.”
Next, Carlos easily got the next one. “La Ferrari. I wanted one.”
“Did you get one.”
Carlos nodded his head before answering. “No.”
Max flipped through the pages very quickly. “Ah! I know this one. Y/n has two of these. It’s the Porsche 9-11’s.”
“Y/n’s Porsche. The 9-11 model,” Alex responded.
“I see these in my garage since Y/n’s apartment didn’t come with one, so she puts her’s in mine. It’s the Porsche 9-11,” Logan had a happy smile as he knew one. The next one, he didn’t know.
“Not a clue.” Charles, Oscar, and Daniel all said as they flipped.
Max took a minute to look at the X looking headlights. He hummed. “Y/n was just showing me a TikTok with this car. Says she wants one someday.”
You had a giant grin on your face as you looked at the headlights.
“Do you know what this car is?”
You rolled your eyes. “Of course I know. It’s the 3 million dollar Ferrari V12 Engine Apollo Project Evo. There are currently 10 of them only in the world, and they are all owned.”
“Do you have one of them?”
You only smirked as you looked into the camera.
Max still stood next to his board, eyes to the sky as he really thought. His eyebrows raised as he remembered the answer. “This is like...the Apollo E car?”
“That is correct. Now, does Y/n own one of these? She didn’t give us an answer.”
Max looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Uh. No comment?”
Episode Four: Random Skills
“Ok. For this challenge you have to guess what driver has this skill.”
“Easy.” Came from Lando.
You looked around confused. “I don’t think I have any skills.”
“Do I even have a skill for them to use?” Lewis questioned himself.
“First skill. Which driver is known for playing the piano.”
“Sharl,” you smirked. “Easy.”
“Charles.” Lance, Fernando, and Daniel all answered.
“Me.” The Monegasque had a smile on his face.
Oscar looked up. “Is it Y/n? She looks like she can play the piano.”
“He said that? I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult.” You shrugged.
“Which drivers claims to be able to hit a hole in one at the Monte Carlo Golf Course.”
Max rolled his eyes. “I know Lando has claimed, but I’m going to say Carlos.”
Carlos looked lost. “Me? I don’t know if I’ve said that though. Maybe Lando?”
Logan answered, “Lando?”
Lando also looked lost. “Me?”
“No.”
“Who is it then?” You questioned. Lando and Carlos had been your guess.
“It is Pierre Gasly.”
Lando huffed. “Get out of here.”
The man in question had a guilty smile. “I forgot I said that. Let’s say it’s still true.”
You looked eager to get on with the game. You wanted to win that trophy.
“Which driver has set a drive time around the Daytona International Speedway at 1 minute and 40 seconds. Which is only 8 seconds slower than the lap record.”
“Oh, I didn’t know I would get on here for this category. It’s me right?”
“Correct, Logan.”
You took a little while to guess. “I’m gonna say Logan. Sounds like a very American thing to do at Daytona. And his brother drove for NASCAR right?”
“Correct.”
Your fist pumped the air.
Oscar looked elated at this question. “It’s Logan. I was there when he did it.” A big smile crossed his face.
Lance looked around in thought. “Uhhhhh. Lando? I don’t know.”
Lando also looked happy, as he seemed to know the answer. “It’s Logan right? Yeah, Logan. Final answer.”
“Are there any geography questions this season, or…” Max drew out the last syllable as he laughed with the others. He suddenly went cold stare. “I’m being serious.”
“Which driver knows how to moon walk?”
Fernando squinted his eyes as he thought before shrugging his shoulders. “It’s one of the young ones right? Yuki?”
Yuki was also as lost as Fernando. “I wish it was me. Maybe Lando? He DJ’s right?”
“It’s not Lando. But it is a younger driver.”
“I should know this after she made me play Just Dance for three hours one time. It’s Y/n.” Logan looked put off at his mention of the dance off.
Oscar also looked bored as he also brought it up. “Yeah, it’s Y/n. I threw Just Dance out after she left. No more.”
Max rubbed his face. “She plays it with P whenever she comes over. They play the same one over and over again. Y/n.”
Charles had a far off look, like one of an older man who suddenly was hit with PTSD from war. He whispered, “We don’t mention moonwalk. Not after her and Arthur…” He never finished as he walked off again.
You had a shit-eating grin on your face. “Me! And I tried to teach it to Oscar, Lando, Logan, Max, Charles, Arthur…” You just seemed to keep going and going. They finally had to stop you before you kept going on about the Just Dance discography.
Bloopers
You stood in front of the camera with one of the que things that snap. “And action! Do you even say that anymore? And I thought this was an actual set. I might have cried when I saw the green screen.”
Beep
The camera showed Max creeping in as you continued listing all of the champions in order. He looked over at the camera like was on the office. “Is she still going?”
Beep
Logan kept touching his hair and the makeup lady would slap his hands away to fix it. “NASCAR drivers don’t have to go through this. I bet they don’t have to list all the freaking Formula 1 champions in order.” He leaned in and made a gesture. “See. All they have to do is kiss a brick and they get one when they win.”
Beep
Oscar smiled as he looked around, honestly excited to get this over with. “I think I’m finally ready for redemption. This should be easy.”
The camera cut to him after ever he finished filming. “I take it back. That was not easy. You guys really need to find better questions.”
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pancakes (pt. 2)
AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.
series masterlist here :)
A/N: apologies for the delay; was marshalling the aus gp lol. enjoy.
P2 - hamstring and piriformis stretches
“Y/N Tessio?”
“She works in hospitality.” Oscar clarified without an ounce of stress. He wasn’t embarrassed by this. Yes, he was close friends with a member of the F1 Hospitality. Yes, he was asking that part of his Formula 1 contract include that you become his personal trainer. Yes, he wasn’t going to accept any contract without that condition.
Otmar didn’t know that last fact when he had laughed off Oscar’s request the last time they had spoken. It was the last nail in the coffin that showed to Oscar what had been gnawing at his gut for so quite some time: this team wasn’t quite right. Now, at lunch with Zak Brown, who had wanted more official meeting in the McLaren motorhome, Oscar laid out the same request. And Zak Brown seemed understand the severity of it: Oscar Piastri would not accept anything unless you were right there with him.
This morning was only proof of it all. His anxiety had kept him up and it was only after finding you that everything seemed to work itself out. After you had made him run a lap around the track, you promptly dumped some melatonin gummies in his hand and sent him off to bed to sleep. And sleep he did. Oscar had woken up feeling more refreshed than he had in a long, long while.
Refreshed, Oscar had taken your advice and called Lily. He mentioned love languages and she gushed. The call ended with them sounding more on page and stronger than ever. Oscar also took your advice in calling his dad to ask about a lawyer. His dad had been surprised that his son had been so forward thinking.
Oscar had admitted it was your idea. His dad stopped being surprised; of course it had been your idea.
“Oh, they’re good people, Osc. The sort you need around you in a place like Formula 1! Make sure you have them on your team!” Oscar was already thinking what his dad was suggesting, agreeing wholeheartedly. He needed you on his team.
And that was before Oscar arrived at the Alpine motor home for one of the staff to let him known that hospitality had delivered some specially made protein pancakes and fresh orange juice for his breakfast. There was a note under cutlery with your scrawl of ‘take magnesium.’
He asked his Alpine trainer for some, the very same one you thought was an utter dickhead. Said trainer, François, somehow didn’t have any supplements. Sighing, Oscar dug into your famous pancakes that had the perfected macros for an athlete of his sort. He would just ask you for magnesium later - and take your usual heat of having a “fucking dropkick of a trainer.” It was just more and more proof that Alpine wasn’t looking good for him. Even he knew it was bad for a trainer to not be prepared like that.
Now, in a room full of papaya orange, Oscar looked at the American CEO and waited patiently for Zak Brown to tell him what he thought about the request to have you working alongside McLaren Racing as part of Oscar’s contract.
“What, um, what qualifications does she have?” Zak asked, shifting slightly to type on his computer. Oscar watched as Zak’s eyes grew as he stared at the screen. “Oh, I know her! She makes an solid cappucino!”
“Melbournian barista.” Oscar smiled. It was true, you had gotten your barista license back when you were living in Melbourne. And if there was one thing Melbournians were proud of, it was their coffee. “She grew up near Albert Park.” Oscar added the tidbit you had dropped upon first meeting and Oscar was basking in the Australian accent.
"Says she was born in Monaco." Zak said.
"What?" Oscar frowned, completely taken aback at this. You had never mentioned anything to him about being born in Monaco. You were from Melbourne, near the beach. That's what you had told him.
Nothing about Monaco, Monte Carlo.
In Europe.
But Oscar didn't have time to process that because Zak Brown continued on. “Still, it doesn’t say anything about Y/N being trained in anything health or sports-related.” The McLaren CEO said, his eyes skimming over his computer screen that likely read your resume that was stored in the shared F1 database. Formula One Group and the FIA had allowed team principals and CEOs to access these files when they needed to identify a snitch that had violated the NDA.
It was all too often that a team suffered a blow by a Hospo staff member whistleblowing some important fact they overheard while serving the refreshments.
“She knows about Daniel.” Oscar said. Zak blinked, clearly taken aback. He swallowed and Oscar quickly added, “And no, she didn’t tell me. I figured it out that she knew and told her.”
-
“Okay, you’re right. I do feel better.”
“Better enough to do another lap?” You grinned at your friend whose sweaty face dropped into a deadpan. You had both slowed down as you came to the starting line. Now that was nearing the 6am mark, there were more and more people starting to come out.
But you were with a driver. You knew all too well that it would be fine. Drivers are untouchable. You wanted to milk this for all it was worth. “Come on, Piazza! A light jog!” You added, wanting to enjoy this just all the little bit more.
“You’re insane. No.” To prove his point, Oscar actually came down to sit on the road. And then he lay flat on his back. You watched him and exhaled, accepting one lap was all you were going to get. Hell, that was more cardio than you normally did. And besides, you knew Oscar had a rough night and was running in Sambas. Athlete aside, you were just surprised he managed the lap in as is.
So you came to sit beside him, except you didn’t lay back and try to catch your breath as he did. No, instead you stretched your legs out and then leaned forward to stretch out your calf muscles.
Oscar looked over at you and rolled his eyes. The ever insane gym junkie Y/N. He knew he should be doing the same. His flexibility had really taken a toll and besides that, he was stiff and restless from all the travelling and the stressful conversations with his girlfriend and team principals. Oscar sat up and brought his legs out just like you and leaned forward to stretch his hamstring. Just like you.
You said nothing about this but you didn’t need to; the smug grin on your face was enough. You switched legs shortly. Oscar copied. You brought both legs together. So did he. You leaned back and brought your knee up to stretch your piriformis. Oscar begrudgingly did so. And so it went as you and Oscar stretched your entire bodies out right there at the starting line of the Sochi Circuit. It was when they finished the reverse pigeon pose on both sides that you stretched your legs out and made no move for another stretch. You both settled in a comfortable silence and watched the sky.
Oscar watched the sunrise and smiled, feeling a lot lighter after the run and the stretching. He glanced over at you watching the sun and felt a sense of appreciation for you.
“Think carefully of who you choose to drive for.” You said, breaking him from the reverie. “This will be your first F1 team and it will reflect on how other teams in the future will see you.” Oscar was quiet as he thought about your words. Some birds were starting to fly across and Oscar noted how your eyes trailed them.
Oscar took a steading moment and then said what had been on his mind the entire night. “Daniel Ricciardo is going to be dropped. Zak Brown wants me to be his replacement.”
You didn’t react.
You didn’t have to.
All you did was keep watching the birds.
Oscar pursed his lips. Of course you weren’t surprised. You were never surprised. And you already knew about Daniel.
“You know about Daniel and McLaren.” It really wasn’t a question. You offered him a soft smile in response and sat up to stretch out your hand to gently squeeze his. Oscar frowned.
“My platonic brother in Christ,” you began with a sad smile and he grimaced, “you have a good heart. Don’t let this place take that shit away from you.”
You let go of his hand and Oscar sat up to face you. “Why didn’t you— you didn’t say anything.”
“It’s not my place, man, I just make the coffee.” You said with a full fledged smile. Oscar was at a loss for words. You often worked shifts at McLaren - he knew that because those were the days you had double sessions at the gym. Oscar never found it in himself to ask. Now, he did.
“Do you not like… McLaren or anything?” Oscar asked. “Should I not drive for them.”
You were silent for a moment looking ahead of you before you spoke. “No, nothing wrong with the team.” It was clear there was something wrong with something. Oscar couldn’t ask because you stood up and held out a hand to him. He took it and let you pull him up. “Come on. Reserve drivers are only needed after lunch. I’ll give you some melatonin to help you sleep and then you can call your girlfriend.”
“And find a lawyer.” Oscar added. “But I think Zak Brown could get me one.”
“Always have your own lawyer.” You said with such a firm conviction that it had Oscar looking at you with curious eyes.
Sometimes, he wondered how you knew so much about the ins and outs of life in Formula 1.
-
“So you’re saying Y/N actually follows the NDA?” Zak asked, bringing his hands together to rest under his chin.
“Yep. Wakes up at 4am everyday and works out for two hours. Doesn’t drink or smoke and if given the chance, would probably run a half marathon at every track. She's worked with F1 for years so she knows the diet and routine of a driver.” Oscar paused and then tried to remember some more facts now that he had his chance, his opening.
Never mind that he didn't know you were apparently born in the heart of Formula 1.
Though, that reminded him— “She's fluent in French. And Arabic. Which will be good for the Middle Eastern and European races." Oscar added, thinking of your background. Or what he did know of your background. "And she has an international license.” Or he thought you did, vaguely remembering you mention something about cars in Japan.
Japan!
“I think she also speaks Japanese pretty good.” Oscar said, remembering Spa last year and seeing you conversing with Yuki Tsunoda as you made him a matcha.
“Hmm.” Zak pursed his lips. His eyes scanned over the resume once more and then nodded. “Look, Oscar, it’s no secret that I want you for McLaren. I think you’d be a very good fit here. If you think Y/N would be a good fit with McLaren also, then I’m onboard with that.”
Oscar nodded, finally letting himself let go of the seriousness and let out a smile. He honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was actually happening.
But if his father had taught him anything, it was to not get too carried away. Oscar kept composed as he kept his face as neutral as possible and smiled politely. “That sounds really awesome, Zak, thank you. When could we get everything in paper so I can go over it with her?” And his lawyer.
“I’ll speak to some people today and we’ll get a rough contract outline ready. Helen, the PR manager, will send it to you and Y/N,” Zak looked back at his screen, “to the email on the resume here. And then we can organise a meeting and move forward.” Oscar smiled once more, feeling the stress and tension dissipate from his shoulders.
“But,” Zak then added, “I can’t really promise anything. The lawyers will need to sort this out since she’s already under contract with the Formula One Group and if they won’t release her then there might not be much we can do about it.”
Oscar nodded, frowning slightly. “I understand.” Admittedly, that was something he hadn’t thought about. He’d been too preoccupied trying to get Y/N a place with him on whatever team he joined that he didn’t think about her tie with Formula One Group.
“If all goes well, though,” Zak was quick to add, seeing Oscar frown, “we could even sponsor some study for her and help her work her way up. If she’s as dedicated as you say, and has that sense of integrity and spirit, then McLaren would be perfect for her.”
Oscar knew Zak was trying to butter him up with the promise of having Y/N. And Oscar had to admit, it was working. This was about you, after all.
There was a knock on the door. Oscar recognised Zak’s PA but couldn’t recall a name. She offered him a warm smile and then apologised. “I’m so sorry to interrupt but Lando wants to speak with you.”
“Yes of course!” Zak beamed. “Send him in.” He stood up and Oscar’s manners kicked in and he stood up also, assuming the meeting was now over. This reminded Zak of him and he returned his attention at the young Australia. “Unless you had any questions or anything else you wanted to add?” Zak’s question made Oscar want to laugh since they were both already standing up and Lando Norris was already through the door.
Oscar knew how these politics were going to go. If he did sign with McLaren, Lando Norris was going to be the number 1 in everything. And not just in driver priority.
“Nope, all good. Thank you again for listening and being so receptive to my request about Y/N.” Oscar held out his hand. Zak shook it and smiled.
“I have a good feeling about this, Oscar. I’m looking forward to the future.” Zak said. He came around the table to greet Lando and Oscar smiled at his soon to be teammate.
This wasn’t the first time Oscar had met Lando Norris, such was the small world of karting and racing. However, it was the first time that Oscar had seen Lando since Zak Brown had made it clear that he wanted him to be Norris’ new teammate.
Oscar wasn’t sure how to feel about Lando, knowing that the driver was equal points talented as he was, well, spoiled. Not that a spoiled F1 driver was a novelty, but Oscar had noticed that Y’N’s mornings before a McLaren shift always ended with a long sparring session with the punching bag.
“Alright?” Lando said with a lazy acknowledgement. “Heard the news.”
Oscar’s kept his face straight. Of course Lando Norris would see no need for subtlety. The PR training all drivers went through for the media usually extended to the Paddock as a whole as conversations were always sanitised. Everyone knew that what you said wasn’t what you meant. Talking around the issue was part of the life of Formula 1.
Oscar was used to this. So seeing Lando so abrupt about this, and in front of Zak Brown, was quite telling. Especially when it was doubtful that Daniel himself knew anything about his imminent redundancy.
“Yeah, I’m good. Nice seeing you around.” Oscar said, keeping himself polite and respectful - and making no comment about the news. He looked at Zak Brown once more and offered his thanks before letting the PA show him out of the room. Oscar looked back to see Lando staring at him. Oscar considered just what he was signing up for.
Still, Oscar could turn around and leave the office with a weight off his shoulders. Even though he knew how it would look, walking out of McLaren, he was surprisingly more at ease than ever. Sure, Oscar knew the fallout of leaving Alpine and joining McLaren would be bad; especially if it meant kicking out another driver - and one that was a personal hero, but he felt a lot more at ease. No matter the fallout, no matter Lando Norris, he knew it would be okay. Because he was going to have you right there next to him.
There was no way Oscar was going to survive Formula 1 without you. And your gym addiction.
-
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Did you see the photos of Daniel and the twins in what looked like it could be an airport lounge?? Got me thinking about a DatT flight, I know we’ve had the road trip version but I feel like a flight would be a lovely cosy vibe
i did not see that picture????? if you have it send it to me 😭
but yes, Daniel and the twins on a plane is a vibe. also i’ve spent too long trying to figure out what a “DatT” flight is only to now realize it’s probably a typo? if not enlighten me.
i feel like Lando’s much cozier on a flight vs. a road trip, if it’s a long flight Daniel might definitely give him some melatonin gummies to help get him down and Lando’s just clingy,
attached to Daniel’s side and he’s trying to be nice but he really doesn’t feel like sharing Daniel with Oscar right now.
and so Daniel has to gently scold Lando every time he’s shooting Oscar a glare, tell him there’s enough to go around for everyone. makes Lando give Oscar a snack from the backpack too when he’s asked for one and to his surprise he actually gives Oscar a good one, not just one Lando likes least.
Oscar mostly oblivious to it, Daniel keeps saying Lando is tired and Oscar gets it, he’s tired too. and so when Daniel has Lando fast asleep against his chest, Daniel gently kicks his feet out to Oscar’s to get his attention.
“You okay?”
Oscar nods. “Sleepy.”
Daniel smiles. “You’re a good boy, Osc. Lando’ll be back to sharing when he’s a bit more rested.”
Oscar bites back the smile. “That’s okay.”
“I can make room for one more,” Daniel says, already starting to shift Lando about but Oscar stops him.
“Don’t wake him, I’m- okay.” He says, genuine, and also because he doesn’t think he could take more glares if Lando were to be woken up now.
“Alright,” Daniel says, settling. “But I’ll come get me a cuddle once Twin A has woken up.”
Oscar can feel the blush heat up his cheeks and so he hides partially under his blanket. “Okay.” He says. “Okay.”
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I LOVE OSCAR ISAACS GUMMY SMILE WITH THE NOSE SCRUNCH AND THE EYE CRINKLES!!! I LOVE IT!!!
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Long Enough (Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x Reader) Kilig One-Shot
Pairing: Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x Reader (tried to make this as gender neutral as possible)
Warnings: Fluffy not smutty like the title suggests 😅. Secondhand embarrassment from flirting. Mention of buying snacks. Play fighting. No other warnings I can think of unless your secondhand embarrassment is really bad.
Word count: 2k+
Kilig is a Tagalog word to describe the feeling of excitement and exhilaration and possibly embarrassment from anything remotely romantic.
Masterlist
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“Don’t you have some ���important Santos business’ to do,” you teased, crossing your arms over your chest to reserve some warmth.
“Nah, I thought we could go somewhere tonight,” Oscar replied, looking up at you from the driver’s seat of his red ‘63 Chevy Impala. Even from where you stood, you could smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne wafting through the air. The very cologne he knew drove you wild and therefore refused to name, no matter how many times you asked. A slight breeze blew between you, sending a chill through your body. These cold LA nights were rare, and it caught you by surprise to be caught in one when walking home from Monse’s place.
The younger girl had asked you to have a night in with her to help take her mind off the latest drama with Cesar, and you happily obliged. Well...it was supposed to only be you and Monse. Five minutes into the night, Ruby and Jamal had shown up, eager to get in on a night of face masks, movies, and snacks. You didn’t realize how late it had been until you checked your phone and realized it was close to their curfew. After bidding Monse goodbye, you ushered Ruby and Jamal out and walked them back to their respective homes. This is how you got here now, in the middle of the street, talking to the big, bad leader of the Santos, Oscar Diaz.
Better known as Spooky.
“Where exactly are we going?” you asked, “There’s not much open right now.”
“Just get in the car. I thought you liked mystery and shit,” Oscar quipped, his signature smirk on his full lips. Your eyes narrowed at his answer, wondering what Oscar had in mind. Your time with Oscar consisted of movie nights at his place with tension so thick, you can cut through it with a knife. This was new and unexpected, and you weren’t sure if the fluttering feeling in your chest was a good thing or a bad thing yet. “Come on. I know your ass is freezing out here.”
You let out a dramatic sigh and walked over to the passenger’s side, mumbling loud enough for him to hear, “you’re lucky I’m fucking freezing out here...with your mysterious ass.” The passenger’s door was pushed open from the inside by Oscar, and you quickly ducked in and shut the door. Oscar shut the windows on his side, and you quickly did the same with your window, shutting out the air from further freezing you. He thankfully blasted the heater, and you wasted no time in adjusting the heaters to point directly at you, thawing the LA cold out of your body. “Why do you always drive with all your windows down? It’s so cold! See, feel!” Without warning, you grasped Oscar’s forearm with your cold, clammy hands.
Oscar sucked air in through his teeth at your sudden intrusion but did not make a move to pry your hands away, “Fuck, you’re cold!”
“See?! Ugh this is Southern California. We should never be this cold.” You retracted your hands away from him, realizing you were still holding on to his arm.
He smirked at the sight of you placing your face inches away from the nearest heater, the heater blowing your hair back, before shrugging, “I don’t know. I can warm you up if you want.” His voice became lower with every word he said, and you took notice of his raised eyebrow directed at you.
You cleared your throat, which has suddenly become dry, before saying, “Can we please get something hot to drink before we go?”
Oscar kissed his teeth before breaking out into a wide smile, making you forget the need to breathe for the briefest moment “Sure, buckle in.”
“Ugh thank you!” You reached around and buckled yourself into your seat and proceeded to lean closer to the heaters. The car was silent as he steered one-handed through the dimly lit streets of Freeridge. There weren’t many people out, and the only sounds to be heard were the blasting heaters and the low rumble of the engine. You took a deep breath in and leaned back into the seat before asking, “So where are we going?”
“I told you it was a surprise.” Another silence ensued as you turned your head to look at the Santos leader, who was looking straight ahead at the road, his face void of any expression.
“...but can I get a hint of where we’re going?”
“No.”
“...if we’re having a movie night, you could have just texted.”
“It’s not a movie night.”
“You haven’t texted me in the past few days,” you whispered. “That’s not like you.”
“I had to figure some shit out. I’m here now, aren’t I?” His response made you press your lips together and look out your window, crossing your arms once more. You could feel the heat of Oscar’s gaze intermittently focusing on you, burning the side of your head. The rush of heat going to your ears was accompanied by the audible thumping in your chest. You leaned your body against the passenger’s side door as much as you could and started contemplating words to say when Oscar’s hand gripped your left thigh. “Hey. Hey look at me.” You continued to stare out the window. “Hey, I’m sorry alright? Things got real tense with the Prophet$, and I had to sort shit out. I forgot to text you. I’m sorry.” You turned to meet his gaze, and it seemed all your anger had melted away with just a look into his dark eyes.
“Thank you. I was worried about you, and no one knew where you went, so I thought...something had happened to you,” you begrudgingly admitted, hyper-aware of the fact that Oscar’s hand on your thigh set a warm fire throughout your body. You wanted to throw up. Or hold his hand. Maybe. This...this...pounding in your chest. The sudden rush of warmth in your ears. The hairs on your arm standing up. Cold and hot at the same time with heat slowly crawling from your neck to your cheeks. What is this?!
“You don’t gotta worry about me,” Oscar’s voice broke through your storming internal monologue. Did his voice get deeper somehow? “I’ll always come back for you, babe,” he chuckled.
“Ok that’s...not necessary,” you made a weak attempt to push Oscar’s hand away as your cheeks burned in embarrassment over his new nickname for you. Oscar only squeezed your thigh in return and kept his hand exactly where it was. You watched him skillfully steer one-handed into the parking lot of the nearest corner store and turn the engine off. The still silence prompted you to turn your head to the handsome man seated next to you, only to find him already turned to you.
“What are you looking at?” You saw Oscar’s devastatingly dark eyes flit back and forth, holding your gaze as if reading your eyes could give a hint of the storm currently occurring in your mind. Oscar let out a chuckle before squeezing your thigh and giving it a light slap.
“Let’s grab snacks too. I’m hungry.” He let go of your thigh and exited the Impala, leaving you in a daze. Your hand instinctively covered the area on your thigh that his hand previously occupied, lightly feeling the remnants of his warm touch. Shaking your head at your actions, you unbuckled your seatbelt and reached for the car door, only for the handle to be pulled away from your reach by Oscar, who had pulled the door open for you. You muttered a low thanks, eyebrows furrowed at the Santos leader. He locked the car before walking ahead of you and opening the front door of the corner store, holding it open for you to walk in, You glanced at him suspiciously before thanking him again and walking into the store, taking note of the slight brush of his hand against your hip. You made a beeline for the hot drink station at the back of the store, clasping your hands together and slightly shivering as you shuffled over. Oscar was not far behind you, acting as your taller shadow, his breath slightly fanning over your neck as he looked over your shoulder. You swallowed the knot forming in your throat and kept it suppressed by making small talk. When it came time to pay for your snacks, Oscar had pulled out a wad of bills faster than you could grab the card out of your wallet. He grabbed the snacks as you told him a halfhearted promise to pay him back.
“Don’t worry about it. I gotchu,” he smiled, placing his hand on your waist and ushering you out the door. His cologne has taken over all your senses now, and the wires of your brain were beginning to short circuit. You found it hard to even think outside of this time with him. You found yourself taking notice of all the small ways he was currently driving you insane.
Like the way he still kept a hold on your thigh as he drove.
And how he told you about how he had watched the food show you had recommended on Netflix.
And how he asked you to feed him a gummy worm and you felt the faint touch of his lips as you placed one in his mouth.
He also told you to reply to a text from Sad Eyes on his behalf, telling him that he can’t hang out right now.
And with every laugh and every smile, he would squeeze your thigh which would send a jolt of endorphins through your body.
Before long, the winding road Oscar was driving up on ended on a flat lookout. There were only two other cars there, considerably distanced from the two of you. Oscar had parked the car to where the trunk was facing the twinkling lights of Freeridge down below. Without saying a word, he got out of the car and popped the trunk open, where he pulled out a large blanket, big enough to fit the two of you. You got out of the car, clutching your drink, snacks in the other hand, and let a cheesing smile make its way onto your face.
“What is this?” you asked Oscar who was now looking at you expectedly.
“I thought we could just chill for tonight. See the stars and shit,” he gestured upwards to the dark sky. You giggled at the lack of stars in the sky. Typical for Los Angeles. You handed your drink to Oscar who took it without question.
“May I?” you asked, looking between him and the trunk of his car. Oscar nodded, and you jumped up on the top of his trunk, and he followed suit, wrapping both you and him in the blanket. You rested your weight against him, placing your head on his shoulder. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you as you looked at the yellow lights of the city below. “Why did you actually bring me here?”
“...I wanted to ask you something.” You slowly raised your head off his shoulder, and looked at him, his face laced with an emotion you couldn’t quite pinpoint.
“What is it?” you whispered.
Oscar cleared his throat before focusing his dark gaze on you. “We’ve been hanging out for a while, and I thought...that maybe...we could give this a real shot.”
You grinned. “Oscar Diaz. Are you asking me to go steady with you?”
Oscar kissed his teeth at your teasing grin. “Come on, I’m being serious!”
“So am I! Are you asking me to be in a relationship or to be exclusive? They’re sort of different nowadays.”
“The first part.”
“...I need to hear you say it.”
Oscar gazed at you before cupping your face in his hand, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. He whispered your name before asking, “will you be in a relationship with me?” You blinked at him a couple times before your hand came to meet his hand that was still caressing your face. You held his wrist and kissed the inside of his palm.
“...what’s the magic word?”
Oscar rolled his eyes at you before whispering, “please?”
You smiled before nodding, a little too enthusiastically. Oscar shook his head at you before returning your smile with a bright one of his own. “Ok now hold me,” you demanded, flinging his hand away from your cheek to go around your shoulder. You snuggled into the warmth of his body as he drew you closer and placed a kiss to your temple. “Took you long enough to ask me,” you whispered.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
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A/N: I have finally broken my writer’s block. There’s quite a few life changes and obstacles I’m going through, and finally being able to finish a fic was so satisfying. Let me know what you think and if you want to be added to my taglist!
General: @peppermintvanillaa @fantasticcopeaglepasta @panda-angela
Kilig taglist: @multifandomlife22 @thottiewinemom @princeabomination @svetlana-beilschmidt
#oscar diaz x reader#spooky diaz x reader#Oscar spooky Diaz x reader#spooky x reader#oscar diaz imagine#oscar spooky diaz imagine#spooky diaz imagine#on my block imagine#on my block fic#halfwaythereroyalwrites#kilig series#kilig one-shot
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Jake and Amy single parents AU.
Pretty please! :))
oh! Oh, I strangely love this one!
- Amy is a police-widow with little Mac (no, Teddy was not the father, it was a non-canon detective), while Jake is at the better end of a really messy divorce from Sofia, who very quickly handed over all alimony of Maya to him to focus on her career.
-Amy tries her best to juggle the newly single parent life with her full-time position running a bookshop, while Jake is not too happy about having to bring Maya in to the precinct all the time, but it can’t be helped (and Scully makes a surprisingly good babysitter). The squad’s had his back through the entire break-up, and they all love his little girl to bits, so at least she won’t be missing the family aspect in her life - and will always have an amazing female role model in her Auntie Rosa, who’s already planning to teach her Spanish just so she can trashtalk her dad with her without Jake knowing
- Mac + Maya meet at daycare and absolutely hit it off, despite the age difference of two years. Mac has apparently seen another curly headed toddler and immediately decided to brother the sh*t out of her. He takes her along to all his games and helps her pick colours for her pictures and shares his apple slices with her in exchange for a bit of sandwich (which is much nicer anyway).
- the daycare workers absolutely adore the little duo, and can’t help remarking how much they look like siblings anyway. So of course Jake has to meet the mom of the adorable little boy who always bring his daughter over to him for pickup by holding her hand.
- he’s a bit afraid of having to deal with the usual “Aw they’re little boyfriend and girlfriend” comments he’s expecting, but obviously Amy is having none of that. Instead, she tells him how glad she is that Mac has found a little friend to protect. “He’s always trying to protect everyone so much, ever since his dad... well...”
- (Jake knew, distantly, that she was the widow of one of his colleagues from another precinct, but apart from the usual condolences they’d all sent it had never really registered in his mind that there was a wife and a child left behind.)
- “Oh well Maya is so happy too. She’s a bit shy and scared at the moment, so having a big friend help her get out of her shell is great. Your little boy is a sweetheart, too.”
- Amy smiles at him, and he’s pretty sure his heart should not be doing what it’s doing, so he beats it down and tries his best to ignore it. Which is hard, because she smiles at him a lot in the coming months when they meet up for playdates, Mac over excited to show Maya all his favourite spots at the park or the coolest fish at the aquarium.
- Jake moans during one of their meet-ups about a case that has been dragging on forever and is going to need an allnighter to finally be solved, and his partner Boyle is really trying his best alone, but he’s the primary on it and- it feels great to talk about it with someone who understands, outside of his squad, even if Amy sometimes nods with the saddest look on her face when he mentions parts of his job. But she offers him last minute babysitting if he ever needs it, considering her job finishes promptly at 5pm each day, and he can’t help but take her offer when another case hits that needs him on a stake out at 10pm.
- so Maya gets a lovely sleepover with Mac, and Amy gets the biggest box of her favourite pralines as a thank you, because Jake has never, not once, given Maya to a babysitter to go to his job without feeling remorse and guilt, not even his own mom, but he had to deal with none of that when Maya gladly ran up the stairs to Amy’s place where Mac was already shouting her name.
- needless to say that Amy and Jake become the great friends they always are over time. He brings coffee and muffins to their park playdates, and she brings over frozen meals from Mac’s abuela for kid movie marathons at Jake’s place. They know each other’s schedules to help out with the kids, Jake has convinced everyone in his friend group and workplace to only buy books at her store from now on, and Amy is already planning the christmas gift she needs to pack for Maya and her daddy.
- it would be a nice, supportive friendship of equals, and a good help in their single parent life, if it wasn’t for the fact that Jake realised about three playdates in that he was falling for Amy faster than a shooting star. It took her a little longer, but realisation hit when she was packing Mac’s lunchbox, her own lunchbox, and Maya’s lunchbox too after a sleepover, and subconsciously already wanted to bag up a fourth set of sandwiches with some gummy bears and a soda thrown in for good measure.
- Rosa tells him to ‘grow a pair and ask her out, she sounds perfect for both you and Maya’ when Jake confides in her. And that is rare praise coming from Diaz, because no one is good enough for Maya in her eyes, sometimes not even Jake himself. But he can’t take advantage of Amy’s friendship like that, not when it risks losing both her and Mac for Maya... and there is always the underlying fear that Maya will bond with a new woman in her life and be left behind yet again if they don’t work out, just like with her mom, whose biggest contribution to her life since the divorce has been the alimony payments each month.
- Kylie, meanwhile, warns Amy not to risk too much when she confides in her. She sadly remembers the many days she had to spend at her friend-coworker’s side after the funeral, cleaning out half of a closet and half of a shared home, basically. She’d been hoping that Amy would find love again, maybe in a few years time, but when she heard the news about her ‘great new friend’ being a detective himself, her heart dropped because she knew what that might be heading towards, and Amy very much shares her fears. She’d vowed to an absolute ‘no cops’ rule for her planned restart of dating in two years, perfectly scheduled with Mac’s start of school.
- as it is, both of them dance around their emotions in a perfectly synchronised waltz while still getting closer and closer as friends and parents, to the point that the daycare workers don’t even bat an eye anymore when Amy brings both Mac and Maya in, or when Jake picks both of them up into his arms with an excited ‘ready for ice cream and games?!’ before they meet up with Amy for a Coney Island afternoon.
- until one day, when the daycare offers a ‘star gazing sleep over’ event after the story of the stars and night sky was the theme of the week, and it falls right on the day Amy and Jake were planning to take the kids to a movie.
“We could still go.” Jake mumbles while Maya runs into the daycare center, not shy at all anymore, and Mac follows her.
“You want to go see Paddington’s Big Adventure... without the kids?” Amy jokes, but he looks so serious.
“No, of course not, but I mean - we - uh - we both got the evening off now, don’t we? I told my captain I won’t be in no matter what. Seems like a waste of time just going home. We could see that period drama you talked about, that will definitely get an Oscar?”
- Amy hesitates only for a second, but they do go. They watch the drama that Jake has to admit is pretty damn good for a movie where nothing explodes or is set on fire, and that praise does not only come from the fact that Amy grabbed his hand with a gasp during a particularly emotional scene, and then kind of forgot to let go afterwards.
- but then the movie ends and Jake still doesn’t want to go home. Neither does Amy, apparently, because she offers up an ‘amazing 24h diner’ around the corner for some late night snacks, during which they laugh and flick chocolate chips at each other and end up blushing like mad when the waitress comments on what a ‘cute couple’ they are.
- he walks her to her front door, and they both kinda don’t know what to do as they say goodbye, because this kind of date night should usually end on a kiss, but it wasn’t really a date, was it, they would’ve taken the kids along if it hadn’t been for the day care event, and-
- “Ames, I’m - this is terrifying, but I think I’ll hate myself even more for not ever saying anything - and, and, I kind of, maybe, I think you might also-”
She takes his hand again, a lot softer than she did in the cinema.
“I think this is the kind of talk that needs a coffee and a good couch.”
- That’s how they end up at her place that Jake already knows so well from bringing Maya over, from the perfectly styled bookcases down to the absolute mess of a playroom that is Mac’s kingdom. They both grip their coffee cups tightly as they talk it all out, about what they’re afraid of, what they would risk if they gave ‘them’ a try.
- “I wouldn’t ever want to put Mac through losing another cop-dad even if it wasn’t from work, and I won’t let Maya lose another mom.”
“Me neither. And I promised Mac I’d never forget his papa, but... I can clearly see him love his new daddy, too. He already looks up to you so much. He wants a flannel shirt for christmas.”
“Maya introduced you as Mama Amy to one of my aunties. Which was quite a thing to explain.”
Amy laughs, and then smiles at him, and his heart does that thing again, like it has been doing for months now, but this time he doesn’t beat it down. This time he lets it lead him to lean in for the most careful kiss, a kiss that Amy gladly returns, just as carefully.
- they agree to take things slow, be mindful, not drop it on the kids immediately or rush into things from the pressure of friends or family.
- and then three months later Amy finds the perfect apartment for the four of them, and Jake aks Gina and Rosa for ring preferences and proposal tips, and ‘slow and mindful’ has flown out the window the second Maya brought home a picture she did with Mac at daycare showing their little ‘family’ before Amy or Jake had even talked to them about their possible dating.
- Maya grows up with her Mama teaching her Spanish along with Auntie Rosa, and an abuela and abuelo who love to spoil her with Cuban sweets just as much as her big brother. Mac gets to ride along in his Daddy’s police car sometimes, and hears stories about his brave Papa from his colleagues. His auntie Gina is so proud of him for taking care of his little sister the way she took care of her little brother too. And Jake gets to see Amy smile all the time now, and knows it’s him and their kids that is making her smile so much.
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Kali took Blake's hentai out of her room and is now openly watching it in the living room, with Blake and other people still in the house.
The point where Kali should feel ashamed of what she’d done? Come and past - probably right around the time that the animated wolf faunus with the light gray hair, gray wolf ears and large, equally light gray eyes tried to speak around the length of cock pistoning in her mouth with little regard to the fact that this was the woman’s mouth and not, in fact, the pussy, that the human male was pounding relentlessly with spit flying everywhere.
“Iff shfo glurff muffar!” Indeed.
But truly, who could blame her? After years of dealing with her daughters absence, suddenly having Blake willing to live with them was a new experience and one she probably wasn’t dealing the best with. After all, most mothers wouldn’t dream of snooping the way she did. But for all that Blake Belladonna, one of the eight 24 year old “Heroes of Remnant”, inspired awe and hope in the people of Remnant and even more in the faunus community, well...Kali remembered the little girl who’d once seen a package of fruit snacks with red gummy fish, promptly ripped it open and devoured the bag before rolling on the floor, spitting chunks of the fruity treat while disgustedly proclaiming “cherry flavored!” over and over again.
Charismatic, impassioned leader of the Faunus Civil Rights Coalition or not, there was a distance between mother and daughter created by the latter’s 12 year absence in her mothers life.
They tried of course, but Blake was used to her freedom and Kali was a creature of habit, perpetually uncaring of what many called “the line” but still desperately trying to reconnect with her daughter.
So the fact that Kali scoped out the usual spots for teenage contraband when she cleaned her daughters room really shouldn’t come as a surprise. Ghira certainly hadn’t been when Kali had, giggly as she approached, revealed the contents of a lock box Blake hid under piles of increasingly tiny and intricate undergarments. Granted it was just old photos of them together, a cheap plastic ring with a cartoonish lion heard stretching down to the knuckle and pieces of fabric that smelled of the two of them rather than anything else, but it was the thought that mattered.
She of course neglected to mention to Ghira where she had found it, amidst of a sea of panties, thongs and even a g-string or two. Where she was curious, Ghira would have been ill.
So she’d kept snooping, impressed not just at the collection of underthings her daughter owned (and very amused that her own predilection for the sexier, the better had been passed onto Blake), but at the false bottom that had been discovered and...well, novelty might be the right word for things like the crotchless panties she found there.
Then she’d found other things. A collection of muscle magazines hidden carefully behind a dresser that had seen use judging by the crinkled paper, but not recently given the finger shaped spots on the otherwise dusty covers. Lube carefully stacked behind her books.
A chest full of devices, from dildos to wands to toys and more than a few strap ons. And while Kali was surprised at the amount, she was less so when she remembered that her daughter was in a relationship with a rather...well, the polite term would be ‘generously well endowed’ blonde who was openly vulgar about what the two of them got up to behind doors; when it was just Yang (said blonde) and Blake, in what they thought was the privacy of an empty room.
The collection of nearly three dozen cases advertising Mistralian hentai hidden in a crawl space however had thrown Kali for a loop. And, well, you know what they say about curiosity and cats.
And so Kali stared wide eyed at the covers depicting cutesy anime girls, most of them faunus, in various poses and stages of undress. There was Faunus Fuck Frenzy, vol. 32 - where apparently three faunus best friends were captured in a jungle and fucked into full blown ahegao faces by tribal looking, human natives if the cover was anything to go by.
Watashi no kōkō no tōnamentoāku - a dog faunus with short brown hair, floppy bloodhound ears and breasts the size of beach balls in nothing but a pair of spandex shorts and biceps, abs that were intimidating in their intensity...but was covered forehead to navel in semen, the bodies of unconscious teenage boys and their cocks of varying size left defeated on the ground in the cover’s background.
Others, too. One where the blue haired bluebird faunus was a loli and surrounded by leering men. Another where a golden haired, golden eyed snake faunus had her faunus feature, her exceptionally long forked tongue, wrapped around a penis that was closer to the size of arm and was bulging with veins with her curvaceous body on all fours. A bushy tailed squirrel faunus bound, gagged in a contortionist’s nightmare with the shadow of a grinning man behind her.
By the time Kali saw it - it being what she was watching now, a lonely single faunus mother checking out a sex club while her children were being babysat - it was too late. Blake had arrived with her girlfriend Yang, Kali’s personal assistant, the ex-terrorist Ilia, Yang’s sister Ruby and her not-a-boyfriend Oscar Pine and the blonde, suit clad boyfriend of the Schnee heiress, Jaune Arc.
So Kali had used the kind of speed that made her a popular choice for stealth missions back when she was in the White Fang and put every single case back in the crawlspace and had all but teleported into the living room, smiling and nodding as Blake mentioned that the group was going to go discuss something-something-faunus-something-something-SDC-something-something-if-you’d-make-us-some-dinner-that-would-be-lovely-thank-you-love-you-bye.
Kali’s breathing had returned to normal even if her heart still pounded and she’d pulled Amongst Sheep from behind her back and stared at the lonely MILF, stunned at her daughter’s kinkiness. There’d been exactly 41 films in the crawlspace and aside from the muscular bloodhound faunus who’d apparently fucked her way through at least 11 different teenage boys to claim some sort of victory, each and every cover seemed to depict faunus getting dicked down by human males. Or the occasional female, sometimes simply female and other times with a dick dangling between their thighs. The faunus in question seemed to love it and almost seemed subservient to the ones doing the fucking.
While Kali was amused at her daughters apparent kink especially in light of her place as a faunus rights spokeswoman of great fame, there was a much larger problem. Staring at them all had made her unquestionably horny to the point of wetness. But Blake, her girlfriend and her friends were home. Ghira was in the kitchen just two rooms away, making a large meal for their guests happily after she asked him to do so. There were workers in the back of the house, rebuilding their back wall after Ghira had hip tossed an assassin of the rapidly dwindling White Fang remnants through it last week.
A reasonable, sane woman would have hid it and enjoyed it in the privacy of her own room later that night. Maybe give Ghira a ride while she watched it after convincing him she rented it over the scrollnet for added fun. But the idea of watching it in her living room, a living room that was open to all of the house with no doors, her husband far enough away to know she was watching something but not what and her daughter, her friends only a single floor up? With her room right above the living room?
The disc was in, Kali’s legs were spread after removing her hakama and her modest breasts were exposed to the warm air, her fingers immediately tracing her slick folds.
The plot had gone from 0 to 60 in what seemed like record time (but was probably only 20 minutes or so), the mother surrounded by horny human men while her fellow faunus were in various poses of submission. The mother partaking in the orgy and rapidly spiraling from a stereotypically sweet woman with the kind of body only art could give, to a sex crazed lunatic thanking her “master” for fucking her mouth even as her makeup ran, her dump truck of a rear was being molested by a faceless human behind her and her gargantuan tits bounced from the force of the careless facefucking all while she squealed, even as the humans made crude and rather disparaging remarks about faunus women.
Ghira: [From the kitchen] Enjoying yourself, dear?
Kali’s breath hitched as her fingers pushed in deep and she grinned, curling them as a jolt ran up her spine as the wolf faunus - Lupa, she remembered - squealed once more, her cheeks puffing out like a chipmunks at the deluge of jizz firing impossibly from the human.
Kali: Oh of course, darling! There’s a program about human-faunus interactions that’s just fascinating!
She heard no response but could practically hear her husbands indulgent chuckle. As Lupa now hoarsely begged for the man who’d been fucking her mouth to “shut his stupid dog right back up!” the floor creaked and someone moved around a bit. Kali bit her lip, eyes catching the closed window and the worker carrying tools by. Her left hand had since been massaging her right tit for some time now and she tweaked the brownish nipple on her olive skinned titty, moaning harshly as Lupa suddenly screeched! The man who’d been squeezing her cheeks had pushed her face down into a puddle of spit and spunk and forced himself in an ass that not even she could compete with! She watched as the warbling moans of the anime MILF grew in intensity.
Kali: [Sputtering] And now we’re even getting to see a faunus tribe and how they survived in the Grimmlands!
Ghira: [From the kitchen] That’s nice dear.
Kali: So nice! Really Ghira, you would not believe some of their customs!
Or her own, at this point throwing any concern of being caught out of her mind. The floor had creaked as if someone had tossed themselves on Blake’s bed, likely Blake herself after hashing out a particularly tough point. The thought of Ghira finding her was exciting, of her husband’s disbelief that she’d be so bold. One of the workers? Well, Ghira would likely punish her for giving them such a show but the idea of teasing them so cruelly, knowing that they would remember this for quite some time but never be able to do more than furiously jack their cocks off to the memory of it and just how hard Ghira would give it to her, pushing her face in a pillow as he flattened her exceptional cheeks with his angry downstrokes. Blake and her friends? As a third finger entered her lightly squelching pussy - as Lupa followed an order and lapped up at the puddle as her nearly yoga ball sized cheeks rippled in constant motion - and her palm started slapping against her clit, she squealed at the sudden increase in pleasure.
Blake would be beyond humiliated. At her shameless mother, at her own filthy little secret being discovered by anyone other than perhaps Yang. Not to mention that both Oscar and Jaune would commit this site to their memory banks, perhaps even as their flush faced friends lambasted them for their obvious erections!
The floor creaked more, as if they were moving and Kali twisted her nipple, watching as the MILF on screen started wailing from the anal assault, the man having both hands in her grey hair and pulling her head back. As the animation gave way to the light grey eyes rolling towards her nose as her tongue flopped out, Lupa’s face got steadily redder. In return Kali gasped at the mixture of pleasure and pain coming from her right tit, using her left hand to awkwardly do the same to her left and moaning as a shadow passed the window behind their television.
Ghira: [From the kitchen] Dear? Is something wrong?
Kali couldn’t help it. The thought of being caught was too good, the knowledge that this was what her daughter liked - something so disrespectful, base and diametrically opposed to her own beliefs - and the way she was handling her own body made her let out a louder groan.
Lupa: [Television] “...myself that day, lost the woman who put her children first... to big. Fat. Yummy. Human. COCK!!!! AIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!”
Kali: Oh no, Ghira! Just a quote from another bigot!
Kali’s fingers were now a blur, an eye on the window where no worker stood and an ear on her husbands response, the sound of a load of cum being pumped into an animated faunus whose face showed no signs of intellgence as a faceless human filled her anus with his release, squeezing each asscheek so aggressively he was clearly holding booty fat between his hands.
Ghira: [From the kitchen] You know how it is, freedom of speech. Is it at least handled...
She knew what he meant. Is the documentary at least attacking the negative opinion, showing how wrong it is?
Lupa: [Television] “--aaauuuuuwwwwsho good~” [giggling drunkenly]
She was close. Her heels clunked lightly against the table in front of her couch as she adjusted her legs, opening them wider as she now alternated between full thrusts and thumbing the clit, beneath her thick patch of black pubic hair. The scene changed several times, to Lupa’s ankles and wrists bound as a man pumped her full of cum. Another where a group of university aged humans were busily raining down an amount of cum only possible in hentai as Lupa serviced two cocks, one with her mouth and the other with her hand. A married couple sandwiching Lupa between them with Lupa’s cheeks being squished by the human taking her in doggy, excess ass fat bunching up as Lupa screamed into the man’s wife, her hairy human cunt. Another where Lupa sat on the counter of a sandwhich shop as an older, balding man stood between her legs as her eyes fluttered and the slick sound of her sex, of unexpected squirting. One final scene showing Lupa lying upon her shoulders, legs spread in a perfect split as a muscled man fucked down into her as she screamed “Master!” over and over.
To a final scene where a school bus pulled away and Lupa, in a white turtleneck and nothing more, leaned around a corner and had a warm, motherly smile on her face.
Kali: [Strained] Absolutely, Ghira!
Her palm made heavy clopping noises as she fingerblasted herself to that warm motherly smile staying in place...but only because it had frozen there, drool leaking from the corners of Lupa’s mouth as her eyes were all but rolled back in her skull as a random human steadily slammed into her from behind, the only sounds being the wolf’s cheeks clapping and the wet plap! of semen pouring from her currently-being-fucked pussy.
Human: [Television] Take it all, Ms. Lupa!
And then the abnornal sound of jizz being pumped into the drooling faunus and her dripping pussy, Lupa’s eyes gone pure white as they rolled back into her skull and an overlay of the action inside her happening; a sea of thick white swirling inside her and then a flash of light from an egg indicating pregnancy.
Between the two workers clearly arguing over tools outside their window but clearly not seeing her, being in conversation with Ghira and the threat of being found out, Kali felt it build.
Several things happened at once. Lupa showed up on the screen staring down at a human baby with brown hair and her eyes, before turning away smiling softly. She entered a room where an unfamiliar human sat on her bed, a member that nearly reached his own chest pointing towards the ceiling. Lupa dropped to all fours and fastened a chain to a black leather collar she was wearing, muttering “master” over and over again as she crawled forth.
Kali scraped three fingers against her g-spot and ground her palm against her clit and exploded in release.
Kali: No doubt, it’s marvelously done!
Her pitch considerably higher as she lost her fingers to the repeatedly clenching hole, knees shaking as her orgasm crashed through her like waves upon the beach.
Blake: [Shocked] Mo-ther! [Strangled] No Yang, don’t look!
Ruby: [Stammering] Y-y-y-you either, O-oscar!
Ilia: Why must the world be so cruel!?
Jaune: Mad that another hot cat faunus is taken?
Blake: [Squeals] Jaune!
Ilia: Yes!
Blake: [Squeaks] Ilia!
Yang: I mean, can you blame ‘em? I can see where you got it from, babe.
Blake: [Squeaks, chokes, growls] Stopitstopitstopit!
Jaune: [To Ilia] Same.
Blake: Butwhatno--NO! You have Weiss!
Jaune: Appreciating the view is not cheating.
Ruby: Yes it is!
Jaune: I am happy in my relationship with my fiancée. I will never cheat on my fiancée but I have no control over Blake’s mom fingerbanging herself to...whoa.
Yang: [To Blake] Heh, told you it was a bad idea to keep those here! Ooh, is that Amongst Sheep!? [Respectfully] She’s got good taste.
Oscar: Blake watches hentai?
Ruby: A-ack! Y-y-you saw!? Dammit Oscar!
Ilia: [Fumbling]
Blake: Wha-no-it’snot--
Kali breathed heavily, removing her digits from her pussy and feeling much better and with a glance at her sticky fingers, cleaned them with a quick schlup! of a noise.
Blake: AAAHH! Mother, no!
Kali: [Exhausted] Sorry sweetheart. But that collection of yours, oh my.
Jaune: [To Ruby] Okay, now I’m feeling a little guilty.
Ruby: You should!
Ilia: [Stops fumbling] Collection? She has more?
Blake: Moth--
Kali: Over forty.
Ilia: And they’re all... [gestures]
Kali: Except for one with a female dog faunus.
Yang: That’s mine. [Blake screeches in horror] Blake wanted me to ‘expand my horizons’ or something. I think Blakey just wanted me to be a perv too.
Oscar: Wait. Dog faunus? Watashi no kōkō no tōnamentoāku with Tawni Bumpus as Rei-chan’s seiyuu?
Yang: Heh. Yeah, you’ve seen it?
Ruby: Wha--
Oscar: Have you seen Tawni Bumpus?
Jaune: And now I’m uncomfortable.
Yang: Chow-Chow faunus, right?
Oscar: Yup. She’s -- a-ah... [trails off in embarassment and fear for his life at Ruby’s glare]
Yang: [Snorts] Has an ass that makes the Bellabooty look like Weiss in comparison?
Jaune: [Eyes narrow] I’m letting her know you said that, top heavy.
Yang: [Flinches, irritated] I’m sending you a picture of her. She’s got cake for days, Arc.
Oscar: Well, a-ah, the point is Tawni is very p-pretty [panics] b-b-but not as pretty as Ruby and she really does have a captivating voice.
Jaune: [Staring squintily at Yang, speaks at Oscar] Riii~iight.
Blake: Alright, stop! No more talking about my porn!
Ruby: Ah, so the degenerate admits it!
Ilia: Huh. I mean I can see Yang, maybe. But Blake?
Yang: One, rude. Two, it’s a power dynamic thing. She doesn’t really want to be treated like an animal and collared by humans all the time, but sometimes she’s in the mood and I’ll put on the strap and the things that’llmmmphh!!!
Blake: [Hands on Yang’s mouth, panting, red faced] No. More.
Kali: [Covering her chest back up, crosses legs] Dear, it’s perfectly understandable. You’re a powerful young woman with not just skill unmatched in the sword but your Shadow Clones were key in your final battle with Salem! It’s perfectly understandable wanting to surrender yourself to a strong girl like Yang! You trust her and really, Lupa’s descent into a plaything was as masterfully done as it was--
Blake then ran away screaming, hands over her face and seconds later a door slammed. Yang winces.
Kali: Perhaps that was a bit too much for her.
Ruby: [Eyes narrowed] She just discovered her mom’s a superfreak.
Kali opened her mouth, saw that despite the time passed that both Oscar and Jaune were not looking directly at her and were both at full mast. Ilia was quietly cursing at her scroll phone, which the chameleon had been aiming in her direction prior to making herself decent. Clearly cursing her poor reaction time and missing a photo op.
Kali: Hmm. I suppose that might be a fair assessment.
Ruby: [Angles her body to hide Oscar’s boner] You got problems, lady.
Kali gave a nonchalant shrug, still feeling too good to give 100% to caring.
Jaune: [Claps hands] Well, not that this hasn’t been just a blast, but I think I should go tell Weiss exactly what happened here before somebody [glares at Ruby who glares back] texts her.
Yang: [Scratching her head, staring at the stairs] Heh, you just want Weiss to “punish” you. Never met a guy so ready for a girl standing five foot nothing to take him to poundtown in the Amazon position.
Jaune: [Reddens] Then clearly you have no idea how hot Weiss is when she’s mad.
Yang: [Blinks] Huh. All that time spent around Nora and me’s doing you good, Jaune.
Jaune said nothing and turned away. Oscar was trying to engage a depressed Ilia in conversation while avoiding Ruby’s death glare, the reaper herself irritated at her “not-a-boyfriend” being a pervert. Yang stood contemplating how to handle Blake and Kali just sighed, uncrossing her legs and wincing at the stickiness and the slight sound of it as she stood. As she clapped her hands lightly, intending to try and make this better, it happened. A platter of spaghetti and meatballs hit the floor.
Ghira: What in the garlic-oregano-noodley fuck is going on here!?
The room froze. Kali gave her husband a sheepish little smile, standing with her kimono top done up poorly and missing her hakama pants, shapely legs on display. Ilia had reaimed her phone at Kali’s legs even as Oscar had a hand up to block the view, his other over his stiffy. Yang’s mouth hung open in shock and Jaune had frozen, his own hands dropping to hide evidence of his own hard on. His daughter was conspicuously absent.
The most damning thing was the menu screen on the teleivsion, showing clips of Mistralian hentai that wasn’t exactly kind to faunus. Jaune spoke first.
Jaune: [Urgently] Yeet me out the house Xiao Long and I won’t tell Weiss about the crack you made on her ass!
A flash of white aura protecting the Arc occurred and Yang grabbed him by the arm and threw him through the wall. Ruby grabbed Oscar’s hand at the same time and the two disappeared into a swirl of roses out the same hole, a distant “ouch” being heard as they likely collided with Jaune. Yang was halfway up the stairs and Ilia stood frozen, scroll aimed at Kali’s legs. Ghira glared and Ilia eeped. She glanced at Kali who gave a smirk that was unapologetic and much to Ilia’s dismay, sexy.
Kali: It’s exactly what it looks like, darling. [Purrs] Is my big strong husband going to spank his naughty wife?
Ilia’s scream of terror was muffled as Ghira’s hand clasped around her face and then faded into the distance as she was chucked from the Belladonna household.
Jaune: [Barely audible] Dammit, stop running into me! Respect the healer!
Ilia: [Barely audible groaning]
Ghira: You will explain yourself, wife.
Kali: [Flutters eyelashes, purposely ignores him] Will you promise to spank me if I don’t?
Ghira growled, angry at the situation but knowing he’d get nothing out of her now and with a grunt, threw his laughing wife over his shoulder and stomped grumpily to his room. Really, he loved this woman to pieces but why did she find it so enjoyable to test his every last nerve!? He ignored the frantic sound of what sounded like his daughter opening her secound floor window and muttering something about “not again” and threw his smirking wife on the bed, growling as he ripped his armor, his clothing off.
On the ground floor, a rhino faunus and his crocodile faunus friend gaped at the hole in the front of the house.
Rhino Faunus: Oh, what in the actual shit is this!?
Crocodile Faunus: Rich people, man. Rich people.
#rwby#smut#kali belladonna#ghira belladonna#blake belladonna#yang xiao long#ruby rose#oscar pine#ilia amitola#jaune arc#this is what happens when you let a drunk type#what's crack-a-lackin'#idek#a christmas story
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the struggle bus
summary: spencer is the kindest human alive, which makes things tough for the reader :/ (spencer reid x fem!reader)
word count: 5.3k (a doozy kinda!)
warnings: i guess angst, but really just idiots in love (my fav trope). reader is kind of a hot mess. also, mention of overdose via multivitamin.
author’s note: hi, it’s been approx 4000 years since i last posted, but it’s just because i have no concept of ‘efficiency’ or ‘speed.’ but it’s okay. some of this is good, some of this is eh, make of that what you will. also, this is supposed to be #funny sometimes so uhhhh, keep that in mind. ALSO, the title is majorly stupid, but it was the title of the google doc, and i couldn’t think of anything else......anyways, love u!
For once, the bullpen was quiet.
Spencer was immersed in some case file, doing some work that you should have probably been doing as well, but it was approaching the late hours of the night, and you would barely be able to keep your eyes open if you came even close to trying to read or write. Your desks were situated against each other, so you shifted your gaze across the small divider to him. His sharp features were softened in the lamplight, a sight that tugged on your heartstrings, and you took a moment to just look at him. Most everyone else was gone or was too focused on getting their work done to pay attention to your reverie. Derek, if he were here, would dub you as ‘lovesick’ and shoot mischievous smirks and wiggling eyebrows in your direction, but luckily for you, he was not. Twisting carelessly in your chair with your feet propped on the desk, you chewed absentmindedly on a pen, lost deep in thought. “Hey, Spencer?”
“Yeah?” He continued scribbling on the file without so much as a glance towards you, but that was perfectly fine by you, more time for not-creepy staring.
“How many of my vitamins do you think I could eat before I died?”
At this, he furrowed his brow and neatly laid his pen down.
“That depends on what vitamin you’re taking. If you’re talking about iron supplements, the limit is somewhere around 20mg of elemental iron per kilogram of body weight. Any more than that will have incredibly unpleasant side effects like abdominal pain, persistent vomiting, rapid breathing, and coma. However, if you’re talking about Vitamin C, it’s virtually impossible to overdose, but you might get a bad headache if you supersede 2000 mg.”
“Okay, what about my gummy vitamins?”
He narrowed his eyes at you. “While it still depends on what vitamins are included, eating a whole bottle of your typical multivitamin could easily result in death.”
You mulled this over. “So, I should definitely not go home and eat the rest of my gummy vitamins tonight?”
Spencer chuckled, “I’m not a medical doctor, but yes, I’d recommend that you don’t do that.”
Tossing your head back and letting out a small groan, you protested, “But Spencer, my gummy vitamins taste so good! And I have no food at home, so I guess I either die by overdose on gummy multivitamins or starvation.”
He couldn’t help but grin at your melodrama. It could be 12:06 in the morning, and you could still somehow make him laugh. He was starting to understand that he was in too deep, but he also had the startling realization that he didn’t mind drowning if it was in you.
“You’ve got quite the predicament on your hands there, (Y/N). Maybe you should go grocery shopping with me the next time I suggest it, so you don’t end up in this situation again.”
“Oh my god, dude!” you moaned. “I told you I was actually busy; I had to take Oscar to the vet for his vaccines! I try to be a good mother to my dog, and you know I’m not an anti-vaxxer. I’d never decline time with my favorite guy without a good reason.”
Spencer’s heart was doing somersaults at the thought of him being your favorite guy. He’d won plenty of awards and medals in his lifetime, but somehow, none of those measured up to the accomplishment of being your favorite. Pride and butterflies boiled in his stomach.
“Alright, fine, I’ll let it slide this time.”
You snorted, “I appreciate your unmatched benevolence, Dr. Reid.” Locking eyes with him, you tried to dampen the lava flow of heat in your chest that erupted when he looked at you with the softest expression you’d ever seen, but you failed miserably. You had to clear your throat and look away; it was becoming all too much. “Hey, I’m gonna run to the restroom. Don’t leave without me!”
As you dashed away, a thought crossed Spencer’s mind, and he stood up and set off down the opposite hallway.
You returned a few minutes later to an empty bullpen which made you frown, and your heart sank. You had thought he was going to wait, but guess not. Sighing, you tried to not let it sting too badly when you noticed a light on in JJ’s office. You knocked and pushed the already ajar door with a quick hello? before being met with an exhausted-looking JJ.
“Hey, (Y/N). I thought everyone had left by now.”
“Nope, not quite yet,” you replied, offering a weak smile. JJ noticed and wrote it off as fatigue. “You didn’t happen to see Spencer leave a couple minutes ago, did you?”
“Uh, no, I thought he’d gone too.”
“Hm, okay, thanks anyway!”
You prepared to leave, but she stopped you, cocking her head. “Why do you ask? Is he still here?”
Leaning your head against the doorframe, you sighed. “I’m not sure. He was here when I went to the bathroom, but he wasn’t at his desk when I came back. I’m a little disappointed. We always walk out together because we’re both afraid of the parking garage at night.”
A grin simmered on JJ’s face at that fact. “Well, I could walk you out if you’d like?”
“Nah, that’s okay; I don’t want to bother you.”
There was something behind JJ’s eyes you couldn’t identify as she replied, “Alright, then. Just let me know if you change your mind.” She definitely wasn’t thinking about how you didn’t want her intruding on a you-and-Spencer tradition. Not that she minded! She’d been rooting for you both since the minute you’d stepped into the BAU, and Spencer had looked like he was about ready to melt into the floor at the sight of such a pretty girl.
“Thanks, Jayje.”
Dragging your feet a little, you made your way back to your desk to gather your things, trying to fend off the disappointment. You had gotten your jacket on and were about to pick up your bag when you heard a (Y/N)! from down the hall. Well, that was certainly not JJ. Hesitantly, you called out, “Spencer?”
He finally emerged with his arms loaded with...something, you couldn’t discern what in the dim light. His face lit up like the Vegas strip when he saw you. “(Y/N)! I didn’t want you starving or eating all of your vitamins, so I went down to the vending machine and got you a couple snacks!” Arriving at his desk, he dropped the various bags and packets on his desk, and your eyes widened immensely.
“A couple? Dude, did you buy out the whole machine?”
Slightly breathless from his quick jog back, he waved a dismissive hand. “It was nothing. And hey, look!” He picked up a bag. “Fruit snacks! Just like your vitamins, but without the part where you get really sick.”
You were astonished, to say the least. And minorly speechless too, as evidenced by your mouth that was gaping like a fish. “Spencer...this is so nice. You really didn’t have to.”
“Don’t worry about it; I’m sure you would’ve done the same for me.”
At that, your face nearly split in two, and he mirrored your grin. You thought you might pass out at his kindness, and you knew you’d be thinking about this every day for the next two weeks at least. Your expression then turned mischievous, as you tried to tamp down all of the warmth bubbling in your stomach. “Do you want to help me try to fit all this in my bag?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
———
Garcia had been practicing her ukulele peacefully when she got the call. (Well, ‘peacefully’ might have been a stretch as she had threatened to smash the object on her coffee table when she simply could not get the finger picking pattern she’d practiced for what seemed like hours, but it was supposed to be a relaxing hobby, so yes, it was peaceful.) Huffing a sigh of relief when the caller ID said [(Y/N/N)!!] with the longest stream of heart emojis and not [hotch >:( ], she picked up with her usual air of cheer. “What can I do ya for, my loveliest, most bewitching—”
She was cut off abruptly by the sounds of your horrible, heart-wrenching sobs, and her brows furrowed in concern. “Oh no, my sweet! What’s wrong?” She had to wait a few moments for your tears to calm (somewhat) while you tried to wrangle in your breath, so you could form some sort of sentence.
“Penny!”—gasp—“Oh my God,”—hiccup—“it looks so bad!” With your last word, you tumbled into incoherent bawling once again.
“Dear, what looks so bad?” She held her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she began to gather up her things. Whatever was wrong, it was clear you needed some good, old-fashioned Garcia TLC, and she was ready to give it.
The sniffling subsided minorly, and you choked out, “Remember when we were talking the other day, and I mentioned that my hair had gotten a little too long for my liking?” Oh no, Garcia could see where this was going. “Well, I figured I’d spend our evening off getting my hair cut, and I went to that new hairdresser, and oh Penelope, it looks awful. I don’t think I can ever go out in public again.” With that, your tears resumed.
“Darling, you know I’ve been where you are, and I know it seems bad right now, but everything will be fine. Let me grab my scissors and I’ll be over faster than you can say, ‘Penny, I love you so much, you truly are my fairy godmother.’”
You paused before whispering into the phone, “Penelope, I do love you so much, and you are my fairy godmother. But please, hurry.”
And hurry, she did.
Garcia was knocking on your door a little over five minutes later, which was incredibly suspicious because she lived at least 10 minutes away on a good day, but in the state of your disarray, you were not inclined to care. She sat you down on the toilet in your bathroom, whipping out her hair care set (she had definitely spent a significant amount of time dabbling in cosmetology, and it was desperate times like this when it came in handy). Squeezing your eyes shut through most of it, she snipped here and there, trying to make the best of this...horribly atrocious cut (seriously, that hairdresser should be sued), and when she was finished, it was not as bad as when they started, but it still wasn’t great. The rest of the evening was spent watching cheesy rom-coms and baking in an attempt to get your mind off of your hair.
Everything was mostly fine until the next morning, when you realized you’d have to go into work like this, and as terrifying as that prospect was in a normal work environment, you also worked in a place with an abnormal amount of hot people. (And you happened to be developing feelings for one of those hot people, but your brain was insistent upon ignoring that for the time being.)
Already anticipating your worries, Penelope had sent a text without your knowledge to a BAU group chat that excluded you (she had one of these for every member, it just made surprise birthday party planning so much easier).
[penelope :)] please DO NOT MENTION (Y/N)’S HAIR!!!! she got a bad haircut and she feels really terrible about it and doesn’t want to think about it so do not talk about it!!!
[jennifer!] Oh, no! :( Lips are sealed!
[rossi ;)] rip.
Emerging from the elevator in the nicest work outfit you own (an attempt to distract from the monstrosity), you scurried to Garcia’s lair before anyone could see you. Once inside, you slammed the door shut, and leaning against it, you slid down and covered your face with the files in your hands. “Pennyyyyy,” you moaned. “I don’t think I can do this!”
She swiveled to face you with a look of empathy. “Sugar, I know you can. It—it doesn’t even look that bad!” But Garcia was a horrible liar, and if looks could kill, she would have been dead instantaneously.
Heaving yourself up off the floor, you came to sit in the seat next to her. “Can’t I just work in here today? And maybe for the rest of time?”
“You know I would love that, but those other lovely people on our team need you! Especially the young doctor, you know he’d be lonely without you.”
As if her mention had summoned him, Reid opened the door to their secret meeting, files in hand, and your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. Garcia stared at him very intensely, attempting to telepathically tell him to not mention the hair, and you looked like a deer in the headlights, trying to figure out a way to hide yourself from him and possibly the entire universe. And poor Reid shifted his gaze between the two of you, helplessly confused as to what he had walked into. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Uh, no!” Garcia said in the least convincing manner.
“Okay,” he responded, not convinced in the slightest. “I just came to give you some files from Hotch.” So, he handed Garcia the papers and then turned to leave when you caught his eye.
And because he was not the greatest with technology, Spencer had not checked his phone that morning…. Meaning he had not seen Garcia’s text. So he looked at you a moment and cocked his head. “Your hair looks really nice today, (Y/N). Did you get it cut?”
This time, it was Garcia’s turn to glare (because read your texts, dammit!), and you fumbled for a response. As you scanned his face, searching for a sign that he was lying, that he was just saying something to make you feel better, you came up empty. He was telling the truth. He genuinely thought your hair looked nice. “Um, uh—yeah. Yeah, I did. Thanks for noticing.”
“You’re welcome.” He offered you a smile, which you returned easily (a fact that surprised you). “See you.” Retreating from the office because the vibes in there were weird, he shut the door, finally leaving you and Garcia alone again.
You were reeling.
You thought about when you had gotten dressed that morning, and you had entertained each outfit with great scrutiny, trying to come up with something that might draw attention away from your hair. In that half hour you’d spent, you had realized that you didn’t really mind looking bad in front of Morgan or Emily or Hotch or really anyone on the team. Almost anyone. With an increasing amount of discomfort, you had realized you didn't want to look bad in front of Spencer. Of course, he’d never judge you, but you wanted to look good for him. For your best friend.
And he told you your hair looked nice.
You smiled to yourself.
Garcia turned to you with a look of shock on her face. Had that been anyone else, she was sure you would have curled up in a ball beneath her desk and would not have left until every single other person had left the Federal Bureau of Investigation, but you hadn’t, and she smirked.
Oh, she knew where this was going.
———
To put it lightly, it had not been the best of mornings.
It seemed that everything that could’ve gone wrong did, so you burst past the glass doors of the BAU six minutes late with a coffee-covered shirt, mud-stained pants, soggy shoes, and a most miserable attitude. Hotch, while a sympathetic man, was still your boss with rules to follow and when you stumbled into the bullpen, gave a pointed stare between you and the clock, and you nodded sullenly. You understood his silent admonition, but knowing that he was even slightly disappointed in you, made your knees want to buckle. Swallowing around the slug in your throat, you set your bag down beside your chair and noticed a foreign object sitting on your desk. Interest thoroughly piqued, you reached forward to find it was a book with a satin ribbon tied on it.
It truly was a beautiful book with a deep crimson hardcover and the kind of deckled edges that you loved. Running your fingers along the rough-hewn pages, you finally noted the title, and you gasped. Beloved by Toni Morrison. Your favorite. The cursive words curved in black on the cover to match the ribbon, and you carefully traced the curling letters, wondering where this gorgeous book could have come from.
In the desk across from yours, Spencer watched the scene in front of him with a grin. He couldn’t help but feel pleased at the look of awe on your face as you inspected the book with careful fingers and a gentle gaze, and his heart swelled more and more the longer he looked. “Did you know that Margaret Garner, the woman the character Sethe is based on, her trial was used as part of an effort to dismantle the Fugitive Slave Act?” Your eyes flickered up to meet his, and those stupid freaking butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach as you realized who had gifted you the book. “The presiding judge didn’t accept her lawyer’s argument that the act violated the right to religious freedom, but it was still somewhat of a turning point in the movement to strike down the law.”
“I did not know that, but thank you. For the fact and the book.”
“You’re welcome.” He had to avert his eyes from your strong gaze because he thought he might melt otherwise.
“Please don’t misinterpret this as me being ungrateful because I’m so, so thankful, but why?”
He shrugged, “I was just in the book store, and it made me think of you.” No, he didn’t keep an eye out specifically for this book on his weekly trip to the bookstore by his apartment after you had briefly mentioned your love of Ms. Morrison’s metaphors. And he definitely didn’t ask the owner Alice if she would let him know if she ever got any new copies.
Frankly, you were at a loss for words. Combing back through your conversations with him, you tried to remember when you had talked about the book, but you couldn’t come up with anything other than a couple words tossed briefly here and there. Suppose it wasn’t really the fact that he had heard, but the fact that he had listened. He listened and remembered things about you, little things tucked in the back of his brain, and it was how he thought about you even when you weren’t around. So, you clutched the book to your chest tightly as if it could meld with your heart and let your thoughts rage with the implications for a minute before smothering your mushy grin and tucking the book into your bag.
(Later, you pulled it out on your ride home on the metro. Spencer had already gotten off at his stop a few minutes before, so you took this moment of solitude to revel in the glory of your new gift. Every time you smoothed a hand over the cover, your mind was overwhelmed with what-ifs. What if he felt the same? What if his stomach rumbled with the same butterflies when you looked at him? What if this means he likes you as more than…. And abruptly, you were doused in doubt once again, muzzling those dangerous, rearing hypotheticals. This was a path that would only lead to disappointment.
Those thoughts only got worse when you read his inscription, though:
Dear (Y/N/N),
I hope you find great joy in reacquainting yourself with the graces of Ms. Morrison’s elegant prose in this new copy. I was inspired by your praise and read this classic again, and I can say that I definitely understand your veneration of her story-telling. Hopefully, we can discuss it soon, so I can try to see all of the details that you so admire. You are always much better at appreciating the finer things in life.
She says that, “something that is loved is never lost.”
I hope you know that you will never be lost to me.
Sincerely,
Spencer
(P.S. I wrote this in pencil, so you can erase and have the clean copy you wanted.)
You would never erase it.)
———
“Hey, are you alright?”
You sat at your desk with your head in your hands. Your responding “no” came out muffled.
Spencer frowned and sat on the edge of your desk. “Is there anything I can help with?”
Running your hands over your face, you finally met his gaze. His eyes were soft as they searched your own, and the expression on his face was not of pity or frustration but empathy, and of course, he was just being his sweet self. Your eyes watered in response, and his heart clenched at the sight. You shifted your eyes somewhere else, anywhere else. “Uh, no.”
It was clearly a lie.
Furrowing his brows at your obfuscation, he scanned your face for any indication of what might be the problem. A small sigh. He came up with nothing. “Alright,” he conceded hesitantly. “May I ask what is wrong?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
You stared down at the files neatly ordered on your desk, trying to mentally shoo him away with the sheer force of your willpower alone. But Spencer Reid was a stubborn man, and you knew this, and you also knew he wasn’t leaving until he knew you were alright. So, you both sat in the silence of the bullpen that only accompanied the arrival of midnight. The glow of your lamp bathed the vicinity in a warm yellow, and the tick of the nearby clock rattled around your chest as you attempted fruitlessly to subdue your incessant thoughts. He was close enough that you could hear the soft susurration of his exhales as his eyes flitted about the room to give you some sort of breathing room, and you shut yours for a moment to appreciate this moment of peace before the inevitable catastrophe to follow.
“I’m—uh, not okay.”
Finally turning back to you with a mildly surprised expression (he didn’t expect you to say anything so soon. Or so bluntly.), he offered you one of his signature tight-lipped smiles as encouragement to continue.
“I’m kind of really struggling…” you trailed off, gaze empty, ensnared in your thoughts.
Ever the gentleman with persistence that could last a thousand years, he gently prompted, “With…?”
A strong gulp and eyes squeezed shut. “With you.”
Well, that was not the answer Spencer was expecting. He felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him, and he was hollow and shaken and in pain. Gaping, he fumbled hopelessly for an answer, trying to find some reason you could be upset with him. He had always thought you two were the best of friends; he’d never doubted that before. How could he have missed this?
Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, he strained to ask, “Uh—um, what—what did I do?”
Upon witnessing his struggle, you quickly amended your previous statement. “No, no, no, no, no! I’m not mad at you, well, I kind of am, but you don’t need to feel bad, it’s not your fault.”
“I’m not really sure what to make of that.”
You huffed a sigh and covered your face with your hands in a poor attempt to try to hide the blush rapidly coloring your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just—you’re so nice!”
Now Spencer was really confused. “You’re mad at me...because you think I’m nice?”
“Yes, Spencer! You’re so nice, and it makes me incredibly frustrated. You see this?” You picked up a book from your desk and waved it frantically. A little intimidated by your crazed look, he nodded timidly. “Do you recognize this book?”
“It’s a special edition of Beloved by Toni Morrison.”
“It’s the special edition of my favorite book that you bought for me because you know how much I love this book.”
Spencer looked like a deer in the headlights. “You always said that your book at home was so messy with your annotations and that a fresh copy would have been nice.”
“You didn’t even buy it for my birthday or a special occasion! You just saw it in the store and said that you thought of me and had to buy it. That’s so unbelievably thoughtful! Not to mention the fact that I can barely look at fruit snacks now without tearing up. And—and the other day! When I got my haircut, I hated it, but I came in the next day, and you were the first person to tell me you liked it. You weren’t even lying to make me feel better; I’m a profiler, and I know that you were telling the truth. And it took no effort or thought because Spencer, you are the most kind-hearted and compassionate and generous person I’ve ever met. You are so—so genuinely good.
“No, you are the best. You are the best person I know,” you stated with finality, holding his stare with an unshakeable firmness. It was the first time you truly looked at him all night, and his heart felt like it was going to expand past his ribcage and burst open like a balloon. Your resolve melted though and your voice dropped to a near whisper. “And you’re not just nice. You’re nice to me. Which just makes it so hard.”
You deflated, withering into your seat.
“Makes what hard?”
“It makes it so much harder for me to not fall in love with you.”
Stunned silence.
Until it was shattered by a hiccup, and Spencer finally noticed the tears leaking from the corner of your eyes, and he tried, he tried so hard to puzzle through all of this new information and the fact that you just admitted you’re falling in love with him, and for some reason, you’re crying? He couldn’t even get his stupid genius brain to come with a single word before you started stumbling into an apology. “I know that’s not what you want to hear because we’re supposed to be friends, and I know that you’re just a good person, so you’re nice to everyone. Believe me, I know. And I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, but I couldn’t keep holding on to this by myself, and I knew if anyone would let me down easy, it’d be you.” You chewed on your lip and avoided his stare at all costs. “So, I’m sorry.” You sniffled.
The quiet that followed weighed heavy on your chest, and you couldn’t seem to breathe. You had expected rejection; you hadn’t expected complete silence. And this was somehow so much more unbearable. In a voice so faint you weren’t even sure if he could hear, you begged, “Please say something.”
A beat.
“(Y/N), I love you.”
A whisper just barely verging on hopeful, “What?”
“(Y/N), I—I love you so much.” His heart felt like it was in his throat, and his voice broke slightly as he stood. “You’re the first person I think about when I get up in the morning, and you’re the last person before I fall asleep. I dread going home at the end of the day because you’re not there. When you’re not with me, even if you’re in the other room, it feels like I’ve forgotten something, and for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out what I was missing, but it was you. You consume my every thought, which is saying something because I think a lot. Actually, it’s kind of funny,” he chuckled somewhat morosely, “I truly cannot comprehend the fact that you don’t know how much I’ve liked you, how long I’ve loved you because it feels like it’s so obvious and so potent that it seeps out of me, whether I want it to or not.
“And I’m nice to you because no one else is more deserving of kindness. I’d be lucky if you let me be the one to remind you of that, everyday. Because you’re the best person I know.” You looked up at him with shining eyes and the meagerest beginnings of a smile, and he just beamed right back. With a creased brow, he ventured, “You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that, right?
Failing to suppress your growing grin, you nodded your head meekly. “Yeah, I know.”
“Good.”
Spencer felt pleased with himself until he remembered that he had forgotten the most important part. “Would you like to get dinner with me sometime? Like a date?”
Standing from your seat, you wrapped your arms around his neck and burrowed your face into his chest, and he immediately reciprocated, clutching you as close as he could. “I would love that.” It came out muffled, but he understood well enough as he pressed his face into your neck. And you stood like that for a few moments, just existing together, and for the first time in a long time, nothing hurt. There was no worry of unrequited yearning or pain of terrible pining; there were just two people who finally knew peace. Knew that the person they loved most in the world loved them back. Neither ever wanted to leave.
However, sometimes necessary duties like breathing take precedence, so you pulled back from him enough to finally claim some air. Your hands slid down his front, resting on his chest, his on your waist, and you just stared at him. The most beautiful face you’d ever seen looking right back at you with the same expression of awe that made you realize just how lucky you were. And slowly, hesitantly, you both leaned in ever so slightly with heads wavering and tension buzzing. Gingerly and sweetly. Neither could commit, but no one could pull away from fast-approaching revelation.
Finally, a breath away.
“Can I kiss you?”
You nodded.
When your lips met, your chest heaved with your eager, romantic hopes and dreams bubbling up near your lungs, finally coming to fruition. His hands came up to caress your jaw, and you leaned into him. His touch was so gentle, but he also touched you with intention. For once in his life, Spencer Reid felt no hesitation, kissing the girl of his dreams. And you felt held by him. You were bursting at the seams of your existence, swollen with infatuation and tenderness, yet totally and completely encompassed by him. You could shatter into a million tiny, little pieces, and he would be there to collect every shard. How cheesy.
Both of you grinned into the kiss; the sickly sweet itch in your heart was contagious. You finally released him, and wanting to savor the moment, you tucked yourself into the crook of his neck, so his chin could rest on the crown of your head. “I love you a lot, Dr. Reid.”
He hummed in agreement.
It didn’t need saying.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid#i hope yall see that the sentences that are syntactically similar and the parallel settings are intentional and are like stupid attempts at#motifs and that im not a stupid person :/#also#lol wtf was that ending#anyways#yo this may or may not be based on problems i be having irl#i just fall in love with anyone who is remotely kind to me#lmao#anyone else desperate for affection?? gang??#also r there any toni stans out there i luv my queen#is anyone out there? i just want friends ahh#ALSO DOES ANYONE ELSE HAVE THE OVERWHELMING URGE TO DEVOUR THEIR GUMMY VITAMINS????? IS THAT JUST ME????
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stolen dances | chap. 8
summary: sometimes supporting the person you love is the hardest challenge you’ll ever face.
pairing: jeon jungkook x fem!reader
rating: m
warning: swearing
additional tags: f2l, ceo!jungkook, bestfriend!jungkook, shrink!yoongi, my best friend’s wedding meets 27 dresses (if the boss/secretary couple had happened), angst-y
words: 2200
links: prev. | next [masterlist]
note: lower case letters intended
chapter summary: maybe there are too many red flags to ingore.
“what do you mean the menu changed?”, you hiss into the receiver, not caring how your colleague aches an eyebrow at your harsh tone.
“mr. jeon’s assistant called yesterday and demanded the gluten free pasta to be added instead of the duchess potatoes.” your caterer sounds as lost as you feel.
“but… the duchess is gluten free – now there’ll be a double pasta dish for entrée and sides”, you explain to the person who professionally cooks. never would you have imagined you’d be this upset about a vegetable.
“i’m doing what mr. jeon wants, ms. _____. my apologies.” yeah well, jungkook doesn’t know what he wants. his cold shoulder equals an iced crystal – your best friend has been mute even after getting back from his business trip. all the information you need as his unofficial wedding planner are thrown at you from different partners – like the caterer today or the florist last monday.
it’s seems like jungkook really wants to sabotage his own wedding to win this fight between the two of you. until now you’ve let him throw his childish temper tantrum, passively accommodating his changed decisions. but you’re drawing the line at the duchess potato.
“very well”, you say to the caterer. “i know you’re just doing your job – sorry for being rude. i can’t wait to taste… the gluten free pasta.”
the chef on the other end chuckles at your faked enthusiasm and you soon join.
“will you be there for the cocktail testing?”, he asks and you rummage through your desk, finding your planner in milliseconds.
“of course, it’s still on saturday?”, you ask, not trusting jungkook to change dates just to mess with your schedule.
after confirming the date, the two of you hang up and you start to pack up for the day. you’ll do the log entries for your students from home.
“everything okay, ___?”, your coworker jisoo questions, seeing you leave earlier than normal.
“yeah, don’t worry. i just… forgot an appointment. see you tomorrow”, you answer absently taking your prepacked lunch from the community fridge to eat later.
after taking two different trains and one bus, your self-made hummus is looking more like vomit than food as you stand in front of jungkook’s office building. but with your stomach in knots, you lose all appetite.
“miss ______, what a lovely surprise!”, the doorman greets you with an honest smile on his face. normally jungkook would send one of his town cars to collect you for your weekly lunch. to see you getting out of a bus worries the employee.
“how is the family, hanseo?”, you ask and answer his smile with one of your own.
“all well and healthy, miss! mr. jeon just got back from his meeting”, he informs you warmly and you bow in thanks.
with swift steps you move to the elevator, ready to make jungkook listen. arriving at the final floor, you greet his secretary with a short hug, your eyes already set on his closed door.
“may i go in?”, you ask mrs. yang – not really up to date on jungkook’s schedule. her knowing eyes stare right through your question.
“he’s all yours for the next hour; i’ll hold all phone calls.” you nod silently grateful for her discretion.
two loud knocks are the only forewarning jungkook gets before you barge into his office. your best friend sits at his desk, the top buttons of his shirt undone. his neatly styled hair and the reading glasses tell you that the last few hours were full of business decisions and negotiations.
his tired eyes look at you in surprise, before they cloud over with indifference.
“_____”
no ‘hey, how’ve you been the last week?’, no ‘did you manage to grab the credit card i forgot at the restaurant i stormed out of?’, no ‘i’m sorry, i canceled your favorite potato dish’.
“jungkook”, you greet him and hate yourself for how soft your voice sounds. your feet won’t allow you to move further into the room as your body stands still right next to the closing door.
a hefty silence sets around you, while the two of you muster the other. you notice the bags under his eyes – even with the expensive concealer covering the dark rings.
“_____”, your best friend says again, uncomfortable with the tension in his office.
“jungkook”, you answer, mimicking his tactic.
two estranged friends smile timidly at each other, before the CEO gets up from his seat and closes the distance. in front of you, he hesitates for a breath, but then you are in his arms. your winter coat and heavy bag create a barrier which jungkook crushes easily. he presses your body close to his chest, the suit jacket tightening around his shoulder blades.
you embrace him back, just as fiercely, and inhale his musky scent. he smells like love and you feel your eyes water.
“you’re a jerk”, you whisper against his neck, not ready to let go, but willing to work through your anger. the former idol huffs and buries his nose deeper in your hair. you can feel his breathe against your scalp and thank the lord with a silent prayer for taking a shower this morning.
“i know”, jungkook admits as he manages to squeeze you tighter at the same time.
“you’re a child”, you continue while drawing soft patterns across his shoulder blades with your fingertips.
“i know”
another silence follow – but it’s one without anger. it feels like going on vacation. nevertheless, problems need to be face, you’ve learned that from your shrink. so, with a heavy heart, you lose your embrace and try to step away from your best friend. after reluctantly holding on to you, he huffs and lets you go.
“have you eaten?”
“jungkook, we need to talk about this”, you tell him while the both of you sit on the leather couch. you have to suppress the impulse to take off your shoes, an old habit after the long nights spent in his office.
“when did you eat lunch, ____?”, he asks again and loses his suit jacket. the white button up shirt underneath looks a size too small, which troubles your heart greatly. jungkook doesn’t seem to notice, his focus remains on your eating habits.
“jungkook, i’ll eat later, promise”, you deflect and pat your bag with the hummus vegetable stew in it. your best friend doesn’t seem impressed.
“you’re upset because i haven’t told you about a close friend of mine”, you start, only to see him grimace at your wording.
“for five months”, he specifies.
“it never came up in conversation, jungkook. you… you don’t know all details of my life”, you justify yourself while mentally bowing at your backbone.
“yesterday, your mother invited me to their vow renewal, i can open a whole art gallery with your food pictures and i helped you plan a funeral for your living room plant last month”, jungkook replies astonished. “i even held the eulogy.”
yeah, fair, you’ll never forget seokjin’s oscar worthy crying scene in front of the calathea. even jimin was impressed.
“but you can’t introduce me to the guy accompanying you to my wedding?” there is a thick, and reasonable, accusation behind his words. you feel your hands sweat as you look at the tired eyes of your best friend.
“i’m afraid you won’t like him”, you offer. it’s the most logical explanation you could come up with after your phone call with taehyung. when truthfully, you are more afraid of the person yoongi will see in you face-to-face with jungkook.
but your best friend seems to buy your white lie. his face softens as he rests one hand on your knee.
“_____”, jungkook starts, “every friend of yours is a friend of mine.” you snort right into his words, not believing him for a second.
“you put my last boyfriend into jail.” the answering chuckle from him does not sound one bit apologetic.
“he was trash.” you know he’s right, still, his distrust was there before it turned out that your ex-boyfriend committed tax fraud.
“what about jisoo?”, you ask. “you’ve never warmed up to her.”
jungkook looks like he just swallowed something bitter at the name of your coworker.
“she hit on me.” his reveal shocks you.
“but she has a fiancé!”, you exclaim, only to see him roll his eyes.
“she hit on me”, he repeats unforgiving.
just… great.
“yoongi is different”, you say softly, not ready to reflect on jisoo’s audacity. it’s quite common for others to hit on jeon jungkook – he’s famous after all. but your own friend?
“let me be the judge”, jungkook demands equally soft and squeezes your knee.
“i’m not asking for your judgement, kookie”, you huff. you don’t need his approval. and yoongi sure as hell doesn’t want it.
“but”, you start again, “i think it’ll be best if you got to know him before the wedding.” you’ve thought about this a lot. it seems like the best course of action. even if you can’t picture yoongi and jungkook in the same room.
“he isn’t invited to the wedding”, your best friend scowls like a child. now you push his hand from your knee, irritated by his actions.
“he is”, you press, not willing to back down. jungkook’s eyes flash in anger.
“you can go with taehyung. he still has to make amends for fucking the DJs”, the CEO offers businesslike and moves up from the couch, like he just singlehandedly solved the problem.
“i don’t need a pity partner, jeon. i – there is a person who actually wants to go with me to your wedding”, you bite back. sure, you had to beg yoongi, but you won’t disclose that now. you’ve seen his gummy smile last week as he tried on expensive suits. he looked way too happy and handsome.
your best friend pushes some documents around his desk, deep in thoughts.
“as my best man you won’t have much time to be with him during the wedding. he will be alone in the midst of strangers. it’ll make him uncomfortable”, he tries to reason. you can’t help but roll your eyes – yoongi’s whole job description is to talk to strangers and make them feel safe. but wait…
“i’m not your best man, jungkook.” you’ve scheduled the event. seokjin’s best man speech comes right before the main course. you even sent the man some keynotes, with topics not to add to his roast.
“you got upgraded”, jungkook states with a shrug. no, no, no, no, no.
“you’ll have to rearrange the seating chart – the place next to my parents’ is now yours.”
“jungkook”, you breathe, astonished by his thoughts, “i’m not your best man.”
he tenses at your refusal, but won’t admit defeat too soon.
“you’re my best friend, so you should be my best man as well”, he says like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
“she was against it at first – some bullshit about gender norms and how the photos will look. but, ____, not talking to you for this long made me realize, that you are way more important than seokjin.”
you can see the red flags wave behind jungkook as you feel your heart quicken at his words.
“jungkook” no longer is your voice angry. the sadness in your tone makes jungkook flinch while looking at you from across the room.
“we’ve both created very – very idolized versions of one another”, you start to explain. “maybe you think of me as important – but jungkook, there is so much we haven’t shared with each other.”
he shakes his head, willing to interrupt, but you hold your hands up in warning.
“jungkook, i lo- i like being with you a lot these last few years. but there are parts of you i’ve never met. i never shared your trainee days with you, the hardship, the success. i was only an unknown fan cheering your band on from afar.”
you take a deep breath. “but even now, you still surprise me with new sides of yourself. leaving me on an island? disinviting my plus one? that’s not the jungkook i know. and that’s sure as hell not someone i want to toast to.”
your best friend looks like you’ve just broken something dear to him and you can feel the defeat in your bones.
“seokjin is your best man, jungkook”, you end and smile at the CEO who won’t look at you anymore. before you can move closer to him, the door opens.
“mr. jeon, your next appointment is waiting.” mrs. yang sounds apologetic and looks uncomfortable between the two of you – so far apart.
jungkook nods at his secretary and she closes the door, leaving you to finish the train wreck of a conversation.
“are we no longer best friends, ____?”, he whispers as he logs into his computer. his posture screams dismissal, but you can see how tensed his shoulders are and how hard is mind is working.
you have to suppress the coo on the tip of your tongue.
“jungkook – you are my best friend. you are a person of the utmost importance to me.”
“you still like me?” i love you, you fool.
“i still like you way too much for my own good.”
he nods silently and you can see the tiniest smile spreading across his lips.
you leave without goodbye, only to feel your phone vibrating in your pocket while the elevator rushes to the lobby.
bring your plus one to this week’s movie night.
before you can send a smiley face in responds, an email form the caterer pops up.
subject: duchess potatoes are back.
_____
happy new year! i hope you all have a healthy and kind 2021! let’s make life better by wearing our masks, helping others in need and supporting those who experienced hardship during this tiering time!
i know i promised yoongi/jungkook cat fight – but the chapter got so ugly that i squeezed in this scene of reader und kookie talking about this mess. so that yoongs won’t bleed during game night.
i’d love to hear from you all, it’s been really silent in my virtual life…
all the best and the warmest of hugs from, dana
taglist: @livewittykid @thequeen-kat @kagami-s-void @goldenclosethobi @youwannabelostandnotbefound @jinsalpaca @bishuthot @laabellaavitaa21 @baekstans @jalexad @kimluvwoo @jinsearthh
#btswriterscollective#bangtanuniversity#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook scenarios#jungkook fanfic#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#idol!jungkook#ceo!jungkook#bts x reader#bts angst#bts scenarios
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que malo (part 5) || oscar diaz
(gif is not mine. credit to owner♥️)
Summary: Reader cheats on her boyfriend with Oscar. What could possibly go wrong?
Pairing: Oscar Diaz x reader
Warnings; 18+. cheating, smut, abusive/manipulative relationship, cussing. Violence, mentions of blood.
Word Count: 8.6k
A/N: part five, wassup. So I didn’t know how to end this lmao. I hope you enjoy, I hope this isn’t ass. this is also the longest i’ve ever written🥺 this is not proofread so if there’s mistakes,,, ignore lmao. Luv u all
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4
—————
Si tu novio te deja sola
Dimelo y yo paso a buscarte
Solo me bastaran un par de horas
Y ese cabron no va a recuperarte
—————
The next morning you woke up feeling better than you had in days. There was a slight ache between your legs but it only reminded you of the evening that you’d had with Oscar. Of what you had done in his car. Just thinking about it had brought a smile to your face, thinking of the way he’d made you feel gave you this warm and fuzzy sensation. You couldn’t describe it, it just.. felt good. You felt good, happy.
Rolling onto your back, you reached over to the the bedside table, grabbing your phone. You squinted slightly as you adjusted to the bright light. The time read ten am, so you knew that you must’ve slept in, but considering that you had gotten back home a little late, that was understandable. You had a few notifications on instagram, a few messages from your friends, and you saw that you also had a text message from Sad Eyes.
‘Hey, you get home okay?’
It brought a smile to your face; you and Sad Eyes had meet long before you had ever even met Carlos and Oscar. In fact, it was Sad Eyes that had introduced you to Carlos. You considered him to be one of your best friends. He was easy going, loyal, chill. You really vibe with him.
‘Yeah. Spooky gave me a ride, dropped me off at home.’
He did more than just give you a ride..
After replying to the text message from Sad Eyes, you saw that you had some from Carlos so your dad them - they were from the previous night, after his public spat with Oscar, after he had pushed you. They were drunken ramblings, cursing you out for god knows what. Some of his messages pointed the blame to you and you scoffed at the insinuation. The messages soon started mellowing out until the most recent text message that he’d sent you that morning that simply read ‘Call me when you wake up.’
All you did was read those text messages. You didn’t reply. You didn’t call him - you’d be the first to admit that you sometimes forgave him too easily but this time, you couldn’t and you wouldn’t. What happened last night was more of a reason for you to finally end things with him, and now that you were with Oscar, you were determined to do that.
Your mood had slightly soured because of the messages you had received from Carlos, but then you read Oscar’s and your heart leaped in your chest.
‘Buenos dias, mamas’
Short, sweet and simple. Instead of replying to the text message from Oscar, you decided to call him, putting the phone on speaker and resting it on your stomach. It rang about three or four times before he finally picked up, his deep voice bringing a smile to your face.
“Good morning to you too.” You said to him. “I just saw your text message.”
“Did you just wake up?” He asked you.
“Yeah, I guess I slept in.”
“Lazy ass.” He playfully mocked you.
“If you were here right now, I would’ve hit you with a pillow.” You said to him, rolling your eyes, but that smile never left your face.
“If I was there right now, we’d be doing something else, bebita.” Oscar smoothly replied.
“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” You replied, looking up at the ceiling with absolute stars in your eyes. The text messages from Carlos had long been forgotten.
“This soft gummy worm looking ass dick would be all up in them guts - AGAIN.” The laughter that came from you was like music to his ears and it brought a smile to his own lips, and it remained even as he drank from his morning coffee. Events of the previous evening had replayed those of your minds - not just the sex but everything after.
“God shut up about that or I’m gonna change your name on my phone to soft gummy worm looking ass dick.” You said to him, still laughing softly. Deciding to finally get up and get some breakfast, or at least some coffee, you picked your phone up off of your stomach and pushed the covers off of your body.
“What are you doing today, bebe?” Oscar asked you. You slipped your sandals on and walked out of your bedroom, heading for the kitchen.
“Nada. I was just gonna clean, do laundry, go to the grocery store.” You told him. It was your day off from work and you had decided that you’d spend the day doing all the things you needed to get done around the house, otherwise you’d procrastinate even longer, as well as go to the grocery store and get some more things you needed.
“Let’s go to the beach.” Oscar suddenly said. You set your phone down on the counter as you grabbed a mug from one of the cupboards, turning on your coffee machine so you could make yourself a cup. You then walked to the fridge to grab the bread and butter for some toast.
“The beach?” You asked.
“Yeah, let’s go to the beach today. I don’t got shit to do with the Santos and I wanna see you. Let’s go.” Going to the beach sounded a whole lot more tempting than staying home, cleaning, doing the laundry and all that other stuff you knew that you needed to get done. You had told yourself you weren’t gonna procrastinate any longer but you couldn’t say no to going to the beach and spending time with Oscar.
“Okay let’s go then. What time?” You asked, a small smile on your face.
“Like around 12 or 1. I know how you hynas be taking long as fuck to get ready and shit.” Oscar teased. You rolled your eyes.
“I know how you hynas be taking long as fuck to get ready and shit.” You mocked him, lowering your voice to try and get it as deep as his but it was a fail and it was highly amusing. “Suck my ass.”
Oscar listened on the other end of the line with that little smile on his lips, his dimples just barely poking through on his cheeks. “Oh, suck your ass? Damn baby, I didn’t know you liked that shit.” He said, chuckling. “I learn something new about you everyday.” He said. He heard you laugh.
“Bye Oscar, see you later.” “Bye pretty girl.”
—————
The morning had gone by in a breeze - after you’d had your breakfast and after you’d managed to fold some of your laundry, you got ready for your little date with Oscar, if it could even be called a date anyways; you were doing everything completely backwards with him. After you’d done some of your laundry, you took a quick shower, shaving your legs once more just to ensure they were smooth and not prickly. After your shower, you began getting ready.
You wore a pair of denim shorts that perfectly accentuated and showed off your legs, as well as an off the shoulder top, something cute but simple. Your hair, once dry, was thrown up into a bun, with a few strands framing the side of your face. When it came to makeup, you went for something simple. Nothing too flashy, but just right.
It was nearing one o’clock when Oscar sent you the text message that he was outside and your heart practically jumped into your throat. You grabbed your house keys, your purse and made sure your wallet was inside, before walking out of your bedroom and heading straight to the front door. You weren’t even outside yet and you could hear the rumble of his impala. When you walked out into the bright and sunny day, his cherry red car was first thing that you saw sitting outside on the curb waiting for you.
You locked your front door then walked down the little path that led to the sidewalk and right over to his car. You opened up the passengers side door and got inside, setting your purse down next to you.
“Hola bebe.” Oscar greeted you, letting his eyes rake up and down your body, admiring the view. You felt your cheeks heat up ever so slightly under his gaze - it was almost like an instinctual reaction at that point. That man had you feeling some type of way, especially when he was looking at you with those eyes of his that you loved so much. With that little smile on his face. You buckled yourself seatbelt in and then lifted your head to meet his gaze.
“Hey Os.” You wanted to lean over and kiss him, even just a small peck, but you couldn’t risk it. It was one thing to be seen getting in Spooky’s car - you’d had Sad Eyes over your house before, he’d picked you up before - but it was certainly a different thing to be spotted smooching the leader of the Santos in his car. That very same car that you’d had mind blowing sex in the previous night.
Oscar gave a chuckle from beside you as he pulled away from the curb, driving down the road. “You look good.” Removing one hand from the steering wheel, he placed it on your thigh, gently squeezing the soft skin. You rested your own hand on top of his, looking out the window as the houses, cars and trees breezed by you two. “You good though? I noticed you were walking with a little bit of a limp.” You could hear the edge in his voice, teasing you. “So wassup, you still want me to suck your ass or what?”
You laughed, turning your head over to look at him. You raised your eyebrows. “Damn baby, you really wanna do that, huh? Is that what you do when you’re with the Santos? You guys do be busy.” Oscar tsk’d, clamping his hand around your thigh and squeezing. You gave a yelp and lifted your leg, laughing and trying to get him to let go of you. “Stop stop stop!”
“Callate pendeja.” He’d said to you when you’d managed to get him to let go of your thigh; you’d slipped your hand into his, interlocking your fingers with his own. His hand was bigger than yours, but it still fit perfectly.
“Tu callate, pendejo.” You retorted.
—————
“Where are we going?”
The rest of the drive was spent with the two of you talking, listening to the radio or just punking on each other. It was the best that you’d felt in days - so light and so free, without a care in the world. You wanted to feel like that all the time. You knew that you were nearing the beach considering that you’d been to it a handful of times before with your friends. During the summer when you couldn’t be bothered to go to the overcrowded community pool, choosing to go to the beach instead where you’d stay until the sunset and make s’mores. But Oscar had made a detour first, apparently.
“We’re getting something to eat. I’m feeling a burger. You?”
“Ugh, yes. I’m starving.” Just then, your stomach let out a low grumble at the mere thought of getting some food. All you’d had to eat was your breakfast in the morning, a little snack and that was it. Oscar gave a small chuckle, letting go of your hand to rub your stomach.
Another 10 minutes in the car and soon, he was pulling into the parking lot of the burger place. He’d parked the car near the entrance and the both of you unbuckled your seatbelts, climbing out of the car. With your wallet in hand, you and Oscar walked into the somewhat crowded burger joint and waited in line.
Given that no one knew either of you, considering Freeridge was a bit of a ways away, you both could now be open with your affections. Oscar wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close to his side, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
“Whatchu want, mamas?” He asked you. You hummed lowly as your eyes scanned over the menu, trying to figure out just what exactly you were craving.
“A cheeseburger with everything, except with no tomato though. French fries, obviously. Oh and onion rings.” You said, smiling brightly up at him. Your man looked down at you with a little eyebrow raise.
“You like onions?” He asked.
“Pero por supuesto. Why?”
Oscar said nothing as he leaned down and landed a very much awaited kiss to your lips. You smiled against his lips and deepened it ever so slightly. You’d wanted that the moment that you’d gotten into his car.
“My kinda ruca.” Oscar said to you as you broke the kiss. “Cesar hates onions. Whenever I bring home burgers or whenever I make some, I purposefully make sure that his has some.” He’d revealed, a mischievous smirk coming to his lips.
“Damn and what if he was allergic to them?”
“Tsk, you can’t be allergic to onions, Y/N.”
“Hey, you’d be surprised at what some people are allergic to.”
Oscar pressed another kiss to your head, then removed his arm from around you and walked forward as your turn came up next to order your food. He ordered both yours and his food, and while he did that, you opened up your wallet to pull out some money, but before you could even hand him anything, he’d already pulled out his own and handed it to the cashier.
“I was gonna give half you know.” You said. Oscar took his receipt and order number, along with the change and the two of you stepped off to the side to wait for your order.
“Too bad, nena.”
—————
After you’d gotten your food, you were back in the car and on your way to the beach for real this time around. You could practically smell the sea water, feel the warm breeze from the palm trees.
“Stop eating the fries, no va ver nada cuando lleguemos.” He’d said as you stuffed another fry into your mouth. You dug into the bag and pulled out another one but reached over and held it up to his mouth. He opened his mouth and ate it.
“Vato, we’re here already.” You pointed out, and sure enough, he’d pulled into the near empty parking lot of the beautiful beach, parking near the sand where the car would remain in view.
“Can you get the food? I think I got a blanket in the back.” Oscar said and you nodded. You grabbed the bags containing your meals, as well as the cup holder containing your drinks. You walked ahead of Oscar, stepping onto the warm white sand and choosing a good spot to set up. The tall Santo soon joined you with a red blanket in his hands and he made quick work of unfolding it and laying it down on the sand for you two to sit on.
“Aww, Spooky planned a picnic? How cute.” You teased, grinning widely at him as you set the food down on the blanket. You took your sandals off, setting them to the side before you yourself planted yourself down on the blanket. Oscar scoffed from beside you as he took planted himself down on the blanket.
“Yeah right. I had that blanket in my car from when I’ve brought all my other hyna’s to the beach. You ain’t special.” But he knew that wasn’t true. You knew that wasn’t true. You were very special. Completely special to him. The truth was, he’d never brought a girl to the beach with him.
“Damn, here I was thinking I was special. I was even willing to try a little sex on the beach, but.. never mind. You’re probably used to that.” You said as you opened up the bag of food. You took your burger out while handing Oscar his own, taking out the onion rings and the fries as well. The two of you wasted no time in digging in, eating the delicious fast food.
“Nah, I’m just fucking around. I’ve never brought a girl here before.” He’d said to you. You turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow, chewing on your burger.
“Really?” You’d asked after swallowing the food. He nodded his head, popping an onion ring in his mouth.
“I come out here by myself, or with Cesar.”
The beach was absolutely beautiful at that time during the day. The sun was reflecting against the waves, the water glistening to bright and so blue. There was a light breeze - it wasn’t too cold, it wasn’t too hot. And while there were a few people, it wasn’t entirely crowded. It was perfect, and you felt at peace. Content. You never wanted to leave.
The two of your continued eating your food while maintaining some small talk - you’d occasionally reach over and feed him a fry or an onion ring and he’d do the same to you. Pretty soon, the food was all gone and both of you were satisfied and with full bellies.
“God that was so good.” You said as you took a drink of your soda. You set the trash off to the side, making a mental note to throw it away before you left the beach. You moved closer to Oscar, your side brushing against him, your head falling on his shoulder. The tattooed Santo wrapped his arm around you, like he’d done back at the burger place, and held you close to him.
“I came out here when I was released from prison, you know.” Is what he said, breaking the small silence that had fallen over the two of you as you stared out at the waves crashing against the shore. You said nothing but simply looked up at him, letting him keep talking because you were learning more about him. You knew that for someone like Oscar, it wasn’t the easiest thing to open up, and you weren’t about to interrupt him. You’d also known about his lengthy prison sentence, but you never brought it up or talked about it - you didn’t know if it was a sore subject or not. “After being locked up for four years in a small ass cell, I just needed to see something big. Open. I came out here and stayed here for a few hours. I got myself a burger from that joint too.” You smiled.
“It’s beautiful here. I’ve only been here a few times with my friends during summer but I love it.” You said.
“My mom used to bring me and Cesar here when we were younger. He doesn’t remember cause he was too little but.. I do. I remember.” You could sense the shift in his voice, feel the tension in his body, as he spoke about his mother. Now, you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t curious about where his and Cesar’s parents were - in the times that you’d been to his house, in the times that you’d spent with him, you’d never seen his mother or his father, and he’d never even mentioned them either. All you really knew was that his father is or was a Santo. Carlos had told you that Oscar’s entire family was comprised of Santos. He was born a Santo, essentially.
You didn’t know if you were overstepping a boundary, but he’d brought it up and you were curious. You needed to know. You wanted to know more about Oscar. Not Spooky. Not the fearless and feared gang leader. “Where is your mom? I’ve never seen her and I’ve never heard you talk about her.. or your dad either.” You said, your words coming out soft, hesitantly.
Oscar wasn’t looking at you, he was staring directly at the water, but with the way his jaw clenched, you knew that you hit a nerve, and you regretted opening your mouth. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.” This little impromptu beach day was to have fun and you didn’t want to ruin that.
Oscar gave your shoulder a little squeeze, a bit of a comfort knowing that he was there with you. But every time he thought about his mom, his dad - he couldn’t stop the way his heart constricted with anger and sadness. The very thing that fueled him was anger. He’d never really talked about his parents before because it was a sore subject - he certainly didn’t talk about them with Cesar because he didn’t want his baby brother to have to shoulder the burden and pain of knowing they were abandoned by not one, but both of their parents. It was easier for Oscar to just not talk about it. But with you.. he didn’t want to keep shit hidden or a secret. He trusted you, he felt comfortable with you. He felt comfortable enough to show that vulnerability. But that didn’t mean it made it any easier.
“My mom, she.. she was never really around. I mean, she was around but she wasn’t really around. She preferred drugs over her kids. One day she left and she never came back. Dad.. well shit, he went to prison. I used to write him letters but he never returned any of them, he never wrote back so eventually I stopped. It’s been me and Cesar all these years. I raised him, I took care of him. Even when I was locked up too, I made sure that he was good.” Your heart constricted painfully in your chest at the revelation.
You’d had an inkling that Oscar’s parents weren’t around given that you never saw them but now that you knew it was true and why your heart broke for him and Cesar.
“I had plans after graduating high school, you know.” He said, a little smile tugging at his lips.
“Oh yeah, what?” You asked, your own smile tugging at your lips.
“I was a good student. My teachers wrote letters for me, so did my principal. He told my mom I was gifted. I wanted to be a chef, I had plans to go to that culinary school up in Pasadena.” A chef? Chef Oscar. It had a ring to it.
“So what happened?”
“I couldn’t leave Cesar. I was all the kid had. I never wanted this life. Not for me, not for him, but I did what I had to do.”
“You can still have that, Oscar. I know how this shit works. It’s blood in and blood out, right? But.. who says you can’t go back to school? Who says you can’t be a chef? There’s more to life than this. You’ve given Cesar a lot - a roof over his head, food, clothes.. Don’t you want something for yourself? Something to make you happy?”
“I have the Santos.”
“And are you happy?” It was like all those times were Oscar had asked you if you were happy with Carlos, except now the roles were reversed. You could feel Oscar start pulling away from you - not physically but more so emotionally and mentally so you figured that it was good to just drop the subject for now. He’d already opened up to you about his parents.
“You know, I’ve always felt like I wasn’t good enough for my parents. Like.. no matter what I did, they weren’t satisfied. I could never meet their expectations. And it’s such a shitty feeling. Sometimes I feel like a disappointment, like nothing I do for anyone is good enough.”
Carlos made you feel like that. He made you feel like the efforts that you put in your relationship weren’t enough. That no matter what you didn’t, it was good enough, that you weren’t good enough. And you had reached a point where you were done trying to make it work because it clearly was not going to. You had reached that point where you just wanted to be happy, where the efforts you made were reciprocated and appreciated.
“I’ve always kinda wanted to be a doctor, or a nurse. I remember one time when I was little, I fell at the playground and I busted my lip open and I had to go to the hospital to get stitches. The nurse that stitched me up was so nice. I was terrified, super fucking scared but she did absolutely everything to keep me calm. I always remember her, and I remember getting home that day and thinking to myself that I wanted to be like her. I wanted to help people, to make them feel better.”
“What happened?”
“The money. The last thing I wanted was to burden my parents with that, so I kind of gave up on it.” You said.
“If it’s money that’s stopping you, mamas - I got you.” Oscar said, and you smiled. You leaned up and kissed his cheek, then his teardrop tattoo.
“If you go back to school to become a chef, I’ll go back to school to become a nurse.” You threw out. He gave you a deadpanned look, letting out a little scoff.
“Sneaky ass hyna.” Oscar muttered, but you could see the beginnings of a little smile pulling at his lips. After your little heart to heart with him, you certainly felt more close to him - you felt like you knew him just that much better than you thought you already did. You hadn’t known about his aspirations to become a chef, but it warmed your heart knowing that he trusted you enough to tell you all of that.
You couldn’t deny that it also broke your heart knowing that he was sucked into the gang life, forced to grow up way too soon and care for his younger brother when he was still pretty young himself. That he’d been forced to give up his hopes and dreams, but it also showed you how selfless he was - he did it all for Cesar. His baby brother came first.
“Let me ask you something.” Oscar spoke up. You nodded your head, signaling for him to keep going. “Why are you with Carlos? Like straight up, why are you still with him if you’re not happy?”
For a few seconds you stayed silent, biting your bottom lip as you pondered your answer. “Honestly, I don’t really know. He always tells me that I have to try harder in the relationship instead of trying to run away. I feel bad, you know? I feel like it is my fault, I feel like I don’t or didn’t put enough effort in the relationship, so maybe that’s why I stayed. I mean in the beginning, it was great, you know? I was happy, shit was good but.. one day it changed. I realized that he wasn’t who I wanted to be with for the rest of my life. I started seeing a different side of him, a side I didn’t like. It’s like I told you last night - he scares me because I don’t know exactly what he’s capable of.” You said. “I think that’s part of the reason why I wanted to stop seeing you - I mean, I didn’t want to but I knew that if I wanted to be with you , I’d have to finally end shit with Carlos and I don’t know how. But.. I’m happy with you.” You revealed, your voice lowering, soft and dulcet. “It’s different. Even though my relationship with Carlos has been over for a while now, I know that what we did still isn’t okay and it will never be okay but.. I don’t know.. it’s different with you.”
“Damn mamas, the dick has you that sprung on me?” Oscar joked.
“Oscar, I swear to god-“ You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him away from you. “You’re the worst.” The handsome Santo beside you let out a deep laughter as he grabbed you and pulled you to him again. He leaned down and pressed his lips to your own, his facial hair tickling you. In the midst of your kiss, he’d pushed you to lay back on the blanket while he hovered on top of you, his chain falling on your chest from where it was dangling. The kiss was soft, slow, but still just as passionate. Your lips moved together so perfectly, so in sync - you’d never get over the feeling it gave you, that he gave you.
Pulling away for some air, Oscar rested his forehead against your own, his dark eyes looking into your own. “You know that offer for sex on the beach expired.” You said. He chuckled.
“I ain’t in it just for the sex, you know.” He said. “I mean yeah, the sex is.. good, but I already told you last night. I wanna be with you, formal. Shit’s complicated right now because of Carlos but we’ll figure it out.”
“Damn papas, the pussy has you that sprung on me?” You threw back at him, a little smirk on your lips. Oscar tsk’d, giving you that unamused look. He brought a hand up to your face and lightly flicked you on the nose. You laughed, grabbing him by the chain to pull him down to you so that you could kiss him again.
—————
“I dare you to get in the water.” You said to Oscar from where you were laying between his legs, your back pressed up against his chest. The sun had barely set, the moon was shining brightly in the darkened sky, and the water as glistening beautiful. You and Oscar had officially spent the entire day together at the beach and you’d had the best time in a long time. It just went to show you that it really was not about the sex.
“You’re trippin’. The water is probably cold as fuck. You get in.” He said, patting your thigh. You grinned.
“Alright.” You pushed yourself to stand up from where you were comfortably seated, your feet digging into the now cool sand. “I guess you’re too much of a pussy to get in, so I’ll have to do it.” Grabbing the hem of your top, you pulled it over your head, exposing the smooth skin of your stomach, your strapless bra concealing your chest. Oscar sat back, his arms supporting his reclined position, his dark eyes locked on your figure. You threw the top right at him, grinning. You sent him a sly little wink as you unbuttoned your shorts, sliding them off and dumping them haphazardly upon the sand. Now left in only your underwear, you spun around, your hair bouncing, and headed for the water.
Oscar let his eyes rake over your beautiful body - the way you looked under the moonlight. You appeared almost ethereal. “You crazy!” He called out from behind you. The tattooed Santo stood up from where he was reclined and decided to have his little bit of fun with you. He removed his shirt, tossing it aside with the rest of your clothing. His shoes and socks went next, then his pants. He was now left in nothing but his boxers.
“Come on, Oscar. Get in!” You called back out. You reached the shore, the water barely lapping at your feet. It was definitely cold for sure, not as cold as you anticipated, but you weren’t entirely prepared to submerge yourself just yet. But it seemed like Oscar had a different idea.
He followed behind you as sneakily as he could, the water tickling his feet, and when he was close enough, he scooped you up into his arms bridal style. Their skin touched and he could feel your warmth. He grinned at your surprised squeal. “Oscar!”
“Que dijiste? I’m a pussy? Hm?” He asked as he walked further into the water. “Lo siento, bebita.” Oscar tossed you into the water, laughing as you emerged, your hair now wet and clinging to your face. Little droplets of water fell down your body.
“Perdon, you slipped.” He said, a devilish smirk tugging at his lips.
“You little bitch.” You said. An all out splash fight had broken out, most of the water coming from you, determined to get him just as drenched as he’d gotten you. What a sight you two must’ve been - two grown adults, splashing each other with the water like you were little ass kids. But you two were off in your own little world, the little world that you’d created together. Everything else faded away and it was just you two.
After your fun in the water, you and Oscar headed back up to the blanket, where your clothes were, and waited to dry off, though that was nearly as fun because it had definitely become slightly more chilly.
“Quien te mando a que te metieras a la agua.” Oscar said as you slid your shorts back on after deciding your panties were dry enough. Your top followed shortly after.
“No one, but you didn’t have to throw me in the water either, idiota.” Oscar never got the chance to say anything because his phone had started ringing. He reached over to his pants, felt around for the pocket and then pulled it out. He answered the call and then brought it up to his ear.
“Que onda?” He asked. It was Sad Eyes on the other end of the line.
“Where you at, compa?” The Santo asked Oscar.
“I came to the beach. Wassup?” He asked.
“Carlos. He’s called me up, said he wanted to get the Santos together at your crib. Told me he wanted to apologize for what happened last night at the carnival.” Oscar sucked his lips between his teeth. He couldn’t avoid Carlos, he didn’t want to see him so soon after what had happened the previous night, but he figured he’d listen to whatever the punk had to say.
“Yeah, alright. Tell everyone to meet up at my house then. I’ll be there soon.” Sad Eyes agreed and the call ended soon after. You were in the midst of tying your somewhat damp hair up into a bun, your eyes locked on Oscar.
“Everything okay?” You asked. You knew that some stuff was best to be left off limits and you were sure that Santos business was one of them - but you could tell that Oscar’s mood had soured slightly. The Santo in question stood up and put his pants back on, securing them with the belt. His shirt followed suit.
“It was Sad Eyes. Told me Carlos called him and said that he wanted to get the Santos together at my house to apologize for the shit that went down at the carnival.” He said. Your mouth opened, forming a little O shape. “Have you talked to him today?”
“Nah. I mean, he texted me all last night and this morning but I never replied to him.” Oscar nodded his head. The two of your gathered your belongings and headed over to his car. You wiped away from of the excess sand off of your feet and legs, slipped your sandals on and then climbed into the car. Oscar did the same thing, slipping his socks and shoes on and then got in.
“What do you wanna do? I can drop you back at your crib.” He said, grabbing his keys and placing them in the ignition. He turned the key and the car came alive with a rumble, that very familiar rumble that you were growing accustomed to. Reaching into your purse, you pulled your phone out and saw that Carlos had yet again blown your notifications up with text messages and missed calls. Some of the text messages included;
‘Y/N answer your phone’
‘Can you please answer? Stop being like that.’
‘I’m going to your house.’
‘Yo, answer the door.’
‘Where you at? Are you home?’
‘Are you fucking kidding me? You’re being like this?’
‘Alright then. I see.’
One of his latest messages read that he was gonna go to Oscar’s house to fix shit with him and the Santos. “I’ll go with you. I think you’re not the only one he owes an apology too.”
—————
Thug for life I will be (this is the ballad of a dead soldier)
A life of crime I will lead (close your eyes, hear the ballad of the dead soldier)
If you play the game, you play to win (this is the ballad of the dead soldier)
It’s a crazy world full of sin (close your eyes)
Completely lost, revenge at all costs
Payback’s a bitch, switched, now the tricks crossed
—————
Neither you nor Oscar really said anything on the drive back to Freeridge, on the drive to his house. You sat curled up beside him, with your head on his shoulder, one of your arms looped around his, holding him tightly, holding him close. You had to admit that you were thinking about how it all would go down with Carlos, what you’d say when you saw him again. What he’d say to Oscar, to the other Santos. There was that little irrational fear that maybe he had found out about you and Oscar somehow but you knew it wasn’t possible because you two had been careful.
The drive to his house was much shorter in comparison to the drive to the drive. It ended far too quick for your liking, and when you were back in your neighborhood, you reluctantly untangled yourself from your man and sat back in the passenger seat.
“You sure you wanna go? I can still drop you off at home.” Oscar asked, reaching over to give your thigh a brief squeeze. You turned your head to him and gave him a small smile.
“Estoy segura.”
The drive didn’t last much longer and soon, you were pulling up on his street. As you got closer and closer to his house, you could make out the Santos that had congregated on his front lawn. Sad Eyes, Joker, Oso and a a few others. Carlos was among them, a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. Your heart leaped in your chest as they all caught sight of Oscar’s approaching car, of you sitting in the passenger side.
Oscar pulled into the driveway of his home and once the car was parked, he shut the engine off. The two of you got out, you with your purse in hand. Carlos’ eyes were on you, watching you very closely. You could see the wheels turning in his head, silently wondering, asking himself, why in the hell you were with Oscar.
“Wassup Y/N.” Sad Eyes greeted you, walking over to you and giving you a brief hug. You smiled, returning the sentiment.
“Sup vato.”
Carlos walked over to you as well, throwing his cigarette to the floor and stomping on it to put it out. He nodded at you. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“You texted me and told me and told me that you were gonna be here, I figured you told me for a reason.” You answered. Oscar greeted his homies, but he kept an eye on you and Carlos. He could hear some of what you and Carlos were saying anyways.
“So you were getting my text messages?” He asked, a look of irritation on his face. “And what? You couldn’t answer or call me back?”
“What? You think I was gonna give in so easily after the shit that you pulled last night? Pushing me?” You retorted. Carlos clenched his jaw, released a deep sigh from his nose.
“Why were you with Spooky?” He suddenly asked. For a few seconds you froze, trying to come up with an excuse as to why you were with him in the first place. “Hm?”
“He saw me walking over here, and he offered me a ride. Is there something wrong with that?” You were lying. You and Oscar knew that you were lying, but Carlos didn’t need to know that. And you couldn’t bring yourself to feel bad anymore. You didn’t. Not anymore.
“Yeah. I heard he also gave you a ride last night too. The fuck is that about?” He asked. You scoffed, a hint of disbelief.
“What do you mean, Carlos? I got a ride from him because you left my ass stranded at the carnival after you started a whole bunch of shit. After you pushed me.” You were past the point of letting him push you around. You weren’t gonna deal with it anymore. And part of you felt just that much better knowing you were with Oscar, knowing you had him in your corner. By now, you knew that you had gotten the attention of the few Santos that were on the lawn, of Oscar.
Oscar could feel all that peace he felt with you at the beach leaving his body as he watched you two talk, more like argue. “The fuck is his problem? Didn’t he come here to apologize, not start shit with his girl? Again.” Joker said. My girl Oscar thought to himself, his jaw clenching.
Carlos scoffed, running a hand down his face. He was pissed, he was angry - you’d been getting his text messages, his calls but you were deliberately ignoring him. You were reading every message he’d sent you but you still didn’t answer. And now, you’d pulled up with Oscar and it was something Carlos didn’t like. He’d gone to the house with the intention of apologizing for the shit he caused but his anger was starting to get the better of him.
“And what so you decided to get a ride from one of my homies? How do you think that makes me look? How do you think that makes you look?” He questioned. “It makes you look like a slut.”
You took a step back, stunned. “Chill the fuck out, Carlos. Don’t come here and start shit again.” Sad Eyes spoke, walking over. But Carlos ignored him.
“Are you kidding me? A slut? A slut. Take that back.” You demanded. You weren’t hurt. You weren’t sad. You were angry. You’d let Carlos disrespect you one too many times and you’d let him get away with it before but now.. not anymore. He’s called you a whore. He’d pushed you. He’d made you feel like you weren’t good enough - this was the last straw. The last humiliation you’d endure. “Take that shit back you fucking asshole.”
“Oh, I’m an asshole now? Better than being a dirty fucking puta.” You pushed him. You pushed him back with all your strength and adrenaline and he actually staggered back a few steps.
“Fuck you!”
In the second that Carlos had looked up at you after what you did, you barely registered the absolute anger in his eyes. If looks could kill, you’d be dead for sure. Nothing could prepare you, or anyone, for what happened next. It all happened so quick.
“You fuckin-“ Carlos lurched forward, lifted his hand and connected his open palm to your face, striking you so hard that you staggered backwards just like he’d done. Your purse fell to the ground in a heap as your hands came up to clutch at your face. There was a ringing in your ear but you certainly did not miss the sound of several feet rushing forward, several different voices yelling.
“What the fuck! You wanna hit a girl?”
“Get his ass, Sad Eyes!”
“Fucking pussy ass bitch, hitting a female.”
Oscar felt this untamable rage come over him when he saw and heard Carlos slapping you. It was loud, it sounded like it dam near reverberated around the entire block, echoing in his ears. And it replayed in his mind over and over again. You stood completely still clutching your cheek in your hands, looking down at the ground. Meanwhile Sad Eyes, Joker, Oso and the other Santos had jumped on Carlos.
Oscar dropped the can of beer that he’d been given, the liquid spilling out on the yellowing grass. His eyes were teeming with anger as he looked at Carlos who was completely restrained, sporting a reddened face after he’d been hit by Sad Eyes. But that wasn’t the end of it - oh no. “Te vas a arrepentir, pendejo.” He spoke, voice deep and deadly, eyes just as deadly. “Get his sorry ass to the back.”
As much as Oscar wanted to follow behind and beat Carlos’ ass, his attention fell on you. He walked over to you in quick strides, standing in front of you. You still refused to look at him, still clutching your cheek. You were in shock, he could tell. “Let me see.. Let me see, mamas.” He placed his thumb and index finger under your chin and lifted your face up so that you could look at him. What he saw simultaneously pissed him off even more and broke his heart.
Tears were in your eyes, your lip was busted and bloody, and your cheek had a deep red mark, which he knew would grow darker by the second. Your face was throbbing and your lip was quivering - you were seconds away from bursting out in tears. You were in a state of shock, of disbelief. You could not believe what had happened. That it had even happened at all. You knew Carlos could get angry but you never expected that he’d hit you. You could hear grunts and curses coming from the back yard of Oscar’s house.
“Hey.. hey,” Oscar’s voice was softer now, as opposed to the way he’d spoken to Carlos - with hatred and malice. His eyes softened ever so slightly as well, looking at you with such care and tenderness. But even between your tears, you could see that he was dying to go back there and beat the shit out of Carlos. “It’s okay.. it’s alright, mamas. I got you.” The tall Santo leaned down and picked your purse up from where it had fallen on the ground. He carried it in his hand, then wrapped his arm around your and led you up the front steps to the front door. Your legs were shaky, your nerves were all over the place, and you felt like you could just collapse any second, but Oscar made sure that didn’t happen with his strong grip. He kept saying sweet nothings to you, telling you that he was there, that everything would be alright, that he wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you again.
He walked you further down the hallway until he came upon his bedroom. He pushed open the door, sat you on the bed and told you he’d be right back. He was only gone for about a few seconds but when he came back, he had an icepack in his hand wrapped in a kitchen towel. He kneeled down in front of you just as a few tears had fallen down your face, wetting your inflamed and reddened cheek. He brought his hand up and wiped the tears away, then gently laid the icepack on your skin. You recoiled ever so slightly.
“I’m sorry, mamas. I’m gonna make this right, okay? I’m gonna make that puto pay. You stay in here, got it? I’ll be back.” Oscar leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Ya no llores, mi amor.” He said softly. He kissed your forehead once more before pushing himself up, moving with determination to the door. But your soft, shaky and weak voice called out to him.
“Oscar..” He stopped in his tracks, looking back at you. “Don’t kill him.”
—————
After Oscar had shut the bedroom door, that murderous, enraged look was back in his eyes. In his entire face. His shoulders were tense, his fists were clenched so tightly that he damn near drew blood with his his fingernails were digging into his skin. He walked with determination to the backdoor. He wretched it open and all the Santos stopped what they were doing, turning to look at him standing in the doorway - Carlos was laying in a heap on the dirt. Some blood has begun trickling out of his nose, it looked like his lips was busted, just like yours.
“S-Spooky.. please.. I’m.. sorry..” Carlos wheezed, pushing himself to sit up. The Santo in question finally walked forward, letting the door slam shut behind him.
“Damn, you guys hear that? He’s sorry.” Oscar spoke, voice deep, bitter. All the Santos surrounded Carlos gave bitter laughs as well. “Nah, you’re only sorry cause you’re punk ass is getting your ass beat.” Oscar finally came to a stop until he was standing in front of Carlos, looking down at him. He could see the look of fear in his ears, he could see the pleas, the sorries on the tip of Carlos’ tongue. But sorry wouldn’t help him now. Pleading wouldn’t help him either.
“What kinda little bitch hits a woman, hm?” He asked, kneeling down so he was at eye level with Carlos. “You a Santo?”
“W-What?”
“Are you a Santo?” He asked again.
“Y-Yes. You know I am.”
“Nah. That’s where you’re wrong. You ain’t a Santo. You’re a little bitch who’s balls haven’t dropped. You’re fucking lucky to have a girl like Y/N. And all you do is treat her like shit. Well.. no mas. That ain’t gonna happen anymore. Cause after tonight, you’re gonna leave her the fuck alone. And if I find out that you were trying to see her again, it’s gonna be way worse for you.”
“She’s my girlfriend-“
“No mas! Not anymore!” He yelled, voice deep. It startled Carlos because he jumped ever so slightly. “That claim that you had on her? Dropped. You know why? Because I said so.” Oscar seethed, pointing at himself. “She ain’t yours no more, Carlos. Y te voy a ensenar que le pasa a los hombres que pegan a las mujeres.” Oscar balled his fist up and swung down hard, connecting it with Carlos’ nose. A sickening crunch was heard as his fist made contact, and blood began spurting from his nose as a rapid pace. Carlos groaned, clutching his nose, but Oscar didn’t stop.
With heavy fists, he beat down on Carlos, hitting every possible place he could. He wanted to make Carlos hurt. He was to make Carlos. This was why the people called him Spooky. You never wanted to get on his bad side because this is what happened. When punches were enough, Oscar kicked.
“Pinche cobarde. Not so tough now huh puto?”
You watched from the window in Oscar’s room leading out to the backyard as he savagely beat Carlos. Punching him, kicking him until Carlos was nothing but a heap on the dirt covered floor. Tears were cascading down your face, wetting your cheeks, your heart hammering away in your chest. Some of the other Santos had joined in too - Sad Eyes and Joker.
The night had gone completely downhill. You thought that the night in the carnival had ended up but no.. this was just.. horrible. You still couldn’t comprehend how Carlos had actually put his hands on you. How he slapped you. And this was certainly a side to Oscar that you had never seen before. You knew he had the name Spooky for a reason, you knew he had a temper but.. it was completely different seeing him beating someone to a bloody pulp. You didn’t know if you liked it or not. If it scared you or not. You just didn’t know what to think.
“You come near her again and you’re dead.”
—————
tagging: @spookysmujer @honeym-daddi @eufori4a @shestrying2write @ksoos-lil-fireball @smoooore @noobmaster—69 @ugh-jalynn @lovleyajoitee @curly-haired-holland @babienay @harringtoncastle @spookysnena @eggshaustedd @firebenderwolf @clemmingstylins0n @xiomarlyn @lana-loves-stuff @dolanackles @briskiiat420 @lossantosprincesa @princesstiffxoxo @xbrujababyx @juul4jesus @audreydiane96 @angelreyesgirl100 @khiaraaa-in-spacee @poppaxannie @deviilbby @mrs-spookyd1az @eriksjournal @socialistavocado @pananegra @demure-doll @skathan-omaha @kingbouji3 @animesstuffsposts @moanlightbaby @thenameishayley248 @cheshirecat107 @bellaguarneri @cedricheart @amethyst09 @flamingweasley (idk why it’s not letting me tag some people 🥺🥺)
#netflix on my block#on my block imagine#on my block#oscar diaz x reader#oscar diaz angst#oscar diaz omb#oscar diaz headcanon#oscar diaz#oscar diaz smut#oscar diaz imagine#oscar spooky diaz#spooky diaz#julio macias imagine#julio macias#sad eyes omb#joker omb
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Chapter 3 (The Innocent)
The next day came around, Cesar, Monse, and Elizabeth were walking to school. The three were talking when Jamal and Ruby rode past them with their bikes.
“Get out the way,” Ruby called out as Jamal imitated a care engine.
Elizabeth chuckled, but gags when Cesar kissed Monse, “I love y’all, but don’t do that in front of me,”
“Eli, shut up,” Cesar rolled his eyes, “you and my brother probably do that when you’re alone,”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Elizabeth looked at him confused.
“Nothing,” Cesar shrugged as the three continued on their way to school.
Elizabeth was in class with Ruby and Olivia when the intercom came on with the announcements, “Attention, students. One last reminder to buy your tickets to tonight’s homecoming dance. A magical night of wonder, excitement, and romance can be yours for only $10.99,”
“So…” Ruby trailed off, “you going?”
“Yeah,” Olivia smiled, “Do you…”
“Do you…” Ruby started at the same time as Olivia, “you go first,”
“Do you need any underwear?” Elizabeth started laughing at the turn of events.
“What?” Ruby asked, horrified.
“ Your mom’s at Costco,” Olivia explained.
“Um…” Ruby turned to look straight, “I’m good,”
“Ok,” Olivia turned back to her phone, “also, they ran out of your gummy vitamins so your mom got you small easy to swallow pills. That cool?”
Ruby hummed in embarrassment while Elizabeth couldn’t breathe and began weezing at the turn of events. She had to contain herself when Ruby turned and glared at her so she looked down and took out her notebook with her lips sealed, but still let out a few laughs. The teacher arrived inside the class and began the lesson so Elizabeth listened and took notes as her eyes drifted towards the clock to see how long left until class is over.
Lunch came around and Elizabeth was the first one to get to the table with her food, she sat with her food in front of her and a book. A few pages turned and a couple bites into her food, the group finally came to the table so she put away her book and looked to the group, but an awkward pause passed.
“I’m wearing indigo tonight,” Ruby interrupted the silence, “I thought we should claim colors to avoid outfit clases. Indigo? Any objections?”
“Nah, Ruby. All you, man,” Elizabeth chuckled.
“Oh, and my pants have red pockets. I know, it sounds weird, but it works,” Ruby continued.
“What are the pockets for?” Olivia asked before she leaned towards Monse, “Roofies?”
The boys and Elizabeth looked at them weird, “so what time should we meet?” Cesar asked the group.
“Yeah, let’s get that in the books. More specific, the better,” Jamal said, “what are you guys thinking, like 8? 8:05? 8:10?”
“I’m gonna play it by ear,” Olivia replied, “I don’t think I’m feeling it,”
“What? Why?” Ruby asked.
“Not sure I’m in the mood to be objectified,” Olivia smiled sarcastically, “if I want to see boners, I’ll look online,”
“Didn’t you hear Principle Serge? Dance is a no-bone zone,” Jamal brought up the announcement.
“Are you kidding me? Dances are cesspools of bad behavior,” Cesar shook his head at Monse’s strategy, “I don’t wanna go,”
“Yeah, people get freaky, but what’s wrong with that?” Ruby shrugged, “I don’t get it,”
“Yeah, Monse. Why don’t you wanna go? Explain it to us. You were pretty excited this morning,” Cesar pried into Monse.
“That was before I remembered that dances are lame,” Monse glared at the boy, “and maybe we’re not in the mood,”
“Oh,” Ruby looked as if he realized something, “is it your menses?”
Elizabeth started laughing while Olivia looked at him weird, “her what?”
“Her lady pond runneth red,” Ruby said before Jamal hit him on his arm to stop.
“My what?” Monse glared at Ruby.
“What?” Ruby looked genuinely confused, “what am I saying wrong?”
“Everything!” The two girls exclaimed at the confused friend.
“You guys just don’t understand what it’s like to be a woman and treated like an object,” Monse looked at the guys, “we have hearts!”
“And minds,” Olivia added, “so take out any question that we’re going tonight. The answer is no. with a period, ‘cause that’s what it’s actually called,”
“Girls, let’s dine in a less hostile environment,” Monse stood up.
“You read my mind,” Olivia rolled her eyes.
“I gotta go anyway to finish some assignments,” Elizabeth chuckled as she grabbed her backpack, “I don’t know what happened, but I’ll see y’all later,”
The day went by as classes dragged on until the last bell rang and students flooded the halls to leave the place they personally called hell. Elizabeth was part of the last few people in the flood since she needed to go to her locker and pick up her homework, but when she walked out and saw the feared gang leader inside his beloved cherry red Impala. She wanted to turn back and exit through the back; however, he already saw her when he got out and leaned his back into the car, staring at her. The girl decided to try to ignore him and walk past without a glance. She was about to walk past until he gently held her right hand before she walked past.
“Mamita,” Oscar smirked at the girl, “you ain’t getting rid of me easy so get in the car,”
Elizabeth glared at the older man in front of her, “nah, I got some shit to focus on so I’ll catch up with Ruby and Jamal,”
Oscar’s smirked dropped as he quickly, but gently pushed her against his car, resting his hands on the top of the car, “they may be tu amigos pero I’m not afraid to beat their asses,”
Elizabeth felt everyone’s eyes on them so she rolled her eyes and complied, not wanting to be the center of everyone’s attention. Oscar smirked and kissed her forehead before moving to open the passenger door for her. The gang leader went to the driver’s side and turned to his passenger.
“Where do you wanna go?” Oscar took the blunt behind his ear.
“Home,” Elizabeth’s stomach decided to rumble at that moment.
Oscar chuckled, “Nah, we stoppin’ somewhere to eat. Whatchu feelin’?”
“Nuggets. Chicken nuggets. Let’s go to McDonald’s and you’re paying since you’re kinda kidnapping me,” Elizabeth glared at Oscar.
“Alright, mamita. Whatever you say,” Oscar smirked at the irritated girl as he turned into the parking lot of a McDonald’s.
The two got out once he parked and went inside to put in their order. While the two were waiting, she got a text from the girls group chat asking if she was going to the dance with them. She didn’t know that Oscar moved to stand right behind her, chest touching back, and saw the text.
“You goin’ to the dance?” Oscar asked.
“Don’t know,” Elizabeth shrugged, turning to face him, “might pick up an extra shift that night at the restaurant,”
“Nope. You’re not because you study too much and work too much,” Oscar shook his head and laid a hand on her waist, “you and I are hanging out tonight,”
“I need to, ‘Scar,” Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she pushed his hand off her waist, “deje de tratar de tocarme,”
“Por que, bebita? I can’t help myself. eres demasiado hermosa,” Oscar smirked as he wrapped an arm around her neck and walked to the register to order their food.
“Hello. Welcome to McDonald’s. What can I get you guys?”
“Let’s get the 20 piece chicken nuggets combo and a number one,” Oscar took out his wallet and brought out two twenties.
Oscar got his change as Elizabeth went to the soda fountain and chose her drink, Oscar coming up from behind and choosing his. They decided to take a sit next to the pick up counter and small talked their way until the food came out.
Elizabeth looked down at her food as she dipped her nugget in ranch, “Oscar, why are you trying so hard to get at me? I’m nothing special and there are a lot of other girls that want you and will make time for you. I’m not gonna lie, I barely have time to even hang out with my friends so I’m barely gonna have time for you,”
Oscar swallowed the food in his mouth, “Well, I want you because there is something about you. No me importa si apenas tienes tiempo, siempre y cuando me des algo de tu tiempo. Let me claim you as mine, bebe,”
The two ate their food, moving past the subject, and made their way home, but Oscar passed Elizabeth’s house and continued making his way farther from her house.
“Oscar, where are you going? We passed my house,” Elizabeth was getting confused.
“I just wanna show you something,” Oscar glance at her.
Oscar drove in silence as his right arm had moved to rest behind Elizabeth, his hand lightly touching her right shoulder. Elizabeth felt her heartbeat increase in her chest and it was foreign feeling to her because she never felt like that towards anybody. However, she pushed it aside and focused on the road when she realized that they ended up at the beach. The moment Oscar parked the car, Elizabeth got out and stood in front of the car with a huge smile on her face, turning to Oscar and giving him the sight of her smiling face with the son behind her. It was quite a beautiful sight to the scary leader.
“Why did you take me here?” Elizabeth asked, smile stuck on her face.
“This is the place I go to when I need to think and want to get away from Freeridge. The openness and sounds of the oceans help me think and relax,” Oscar stared at the never ending blue ocean as Elizabeth admired the man from the side.
Elizabeth was surprised by his answer, “so you took me to your secret place?”
Oscar nodded, “I want to show you that I am serious about you and that I want you to be mine. Why do you work so hard? Why do you hustle that much?”
Elizabeth took a pause to contemplate telling him, “my dad was a construction worker so he would be in dangerous areas. One day, he was on ground level doing his job when something happened and he got hit in the head. Ever since then he has been messed up and goes to hospital visits to check on his head. Hospital bills build up and the compensation that he got was used on his bills and appointment he needs to go to so I work to help my mom out with bills and I get some extra money for myself and the future,”
Oscar cleared his throat and moved in front of Elizabeth to hold both of her hands while interlocking their fingers, “I’m here if you need anything, mamita,”
“Gracias, ‘Scar,” Elizabeth had a soft smile on her face, “Let’s take things slow and maybe I’ll be yours,”
The two smiled at each other as they moved to look at the sunset, but it seemed like the two of them were enchanted with the other.
“Tell me about you,” Elizabeth stared at the man next to her, “why did you choose this life? Just tell me everything about you,”
“When I was young, my father was killed and my mother was a drug addict. That left me to take care of Cesar so I did all I could to take care of him. I mean, I had an opportunity to go to this fancy school in Pasadena and I had recommendation letters written from the principal and teachers, but I didn’t want Cesar alone so I gave it up and got jumped in because of ‘destiny’ of the Diaz familia,” Oscar scoffed, “it’s hard. I think about what could have been, but I don’t regret not going because Cesar is here,”
Elizabeth smiled at the love that was so evident in his eyes and tone when he talked about his little brother, “thanks for sharing, ‘scar. I didn’t know you were smart,”
“Pendeja,” Oscar chuckled with Elizabeth while wrapping his arm around her and kissing her head.
@love-me-91393
#OMB#on my block#oscar spooky diaz#spooky diaz#spooky diaz x reader#spooky diaz imagines#spooky diaz imagine#julio macias#julio macias fanfic#julio macias fanfiction#Oscar Diaz#oscar diaz imagine#oscar diaz x reader#oscar diaz imagines#cesar diaz#monse finnie#Jamal Turner#ruby martinez#oscar x elizabeth
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Merry & Bright {29}: Till the Morning Light
Previous: Too Early in the Game
Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Rating: R
Warnings: Swearing! Kissing!
Summary: Hoseok wants to kiss you at midnight - that is, if he can find you in this maze of a New Years party.
All Hoseok wants is to dance with you as the ball drops, pull you to him and kiss you, in plain daylight, in defiance of… well not god but everyone else. The problem? He can’t find you in the crowd at Big Hit, that is until he turns down a hallway and finds you tucked away in a side room, floor to ceiling windows giving you the perfect view of the imminent fireworks.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Ho-Seok states, carefully shutting the door behind him.
“Didn’t Jimin tell you?” You ask, not turning from the windows.
“No, I haven’t seen Jimin,” Ho-Seok is confused, Jiminie would’ve told him.
“I told him to tell you that my phone died, and I would be waiting here,” You say, eyes still gazing at the sky, exhaustion starting to overcome your body.
“Why did you tell Jimin?” He asks moving through the room to stand next to you.
“I had faith in him,” You shrug your shoulders, which Hobi lazily drapes his arm across. You turn your head to meet his gaze and smile softly.
“You were so good,” You compliment, “You’re always stunning, and tonight was just insane.”
“I knew you were watching,” He blushes.
“I didn’t think you could level up any further, but holy shit. Black Swan? My god, take Natalie Portman’s stunt double’s Oscar!” The words roll off your tongue in quick succession, complimented by your eyes going wide and your mouth hanging open.
Ho-Seok laughs as you compliment him, your rambling journey a sign that you’re flustered by the words coming out of your mouth and by the references you’re not sure he’ll get, and the fact that this living breathing god is standing in front of you, holding you, wanting you.
“You doing okay?” He asks as he pulls you closer.
“You’re just, so dazzling, it’s hard to you know, think straight sometimes,” You say, glancing down at his lips before back at his walnut orbs.
“Ah! Hobi-ah, I’ve been looking for you!” Jimin exclaims barging into the room. “You found her?”
“Yes,” Ho-Seok says, eyes moving away from yours to glance at Jimin.
“Great, great, next time turn your phone on vibrate,” Jimin says, winking at you both as he exits the room.
Ho-Seok turns back to you, resuming his longing gaze and glancing at your lips.
“Hobi-ah, we’re watching the fireworks together,” Namjoon says sticking his head into the room. “Hey, Y/N.”
“Hi Joonie,” You say, your annoyed expression hidden in the darkness of the room.
“I see you are occupied, there’s a party after the fireworks, don’t forget,” Namjoon winks before disappearing.
“I should’ve locked the door,” Ho-Seok says laughing.
“Should we go watch the fireworks with them?” You offer, eyes encouraging him to read between the lines.
“I’d rather stay here,” He says, tightening his grip around your waist.
“Me too,” You say as the distant chant of 10-9-8-7 begins down the hall, where the line up from Big Hit’s New Year’s Eve Live! Show is gathered, lights dimmed low, speakers blasting while the hottest DJ in Seoul spins, cater waiters in all white traipsing through the crowed with crudites and hors d’oeuvres, champagne flowing freely.
When Hobi had asked you to the performance, you were unsure if you felt comfortable spending the evening around Idols, in tight designer clothes, beauty rivaling the Greek Gods, talent abounding… You hadn’t been able to go to any performance in the last two months, and all Ho-Seok wanted was to dance, with you, and of course to kiss you at midnight. Which is how you ended up in this weird conference room off the main hallway of the Big Hit offices, where the party was being held, tightly wrapped in Hobi’s arms, eyes holding yours as you hear the other Idols scream “Happy New Year”. It’s all the notice Ho-Seok needs before he’s crashing his lips onto yours, moving hastily to feel every inch of you against him. He’s hungry and wanting, the extra adrenaline from his performance mixing with the excitement of a new year, and the prospect of spending more time with you. The fact that BE was a huge success doesn’t hurt, either, particularly as his hands move to grip the globe of your ass, cementing you to him.
“Ho-Seok,” You mutter breathlessly. “The fireworks.”
“They’re right here,” He says, forehead resting against yours.
“That was so smooth, my god,” You laugh, impressed with his quick wit. “But look.”
Together you look out the window.
“Wow!” Ho-Seok keeps saying as each firework bursts to life, vibrant colors lighting up the dark sky.
“Whoa,” You counter, eyes unwavering as you soak in the screaming colors in front of you.
As the show comes to a close and the music from the party begins to swell, Ho-Seok’s lips find their way to your ear.
“You wanna dance?” He whispers.
“I thought you’d never ask,” You smile, the remaining smoke from the fireworks casting a balm over the moon.
Your hand in his, Ho-Seok guides you from the conference room towards the party, where he’s immediately greeted by friends and coworkers. They nod kindly at you, too drunk on the party and free booze to ask questions. Those will come later, when they catch you in the background of a photo, or see something on Hobi’s private Instagram. Tonight, with the music bumping, bass rattling, a disco ball bounces around colored lights, illuminating the faces of many people you recognize, rendering them more beautiful than before. It seems impossible, how could features carved from granite be more dazzling under disco lights, and yet, looking at Ho-Seok, green and blue streaking across his face, you’re awe struck.
It takes you a few minutes to get acclimated to the noise and the sweaty bodies, all internally battling to be named best dancer in their group chats and conversations. A few TXT members want to challenge Ho-Seok to a dance off, and it takes everything in him to turn them down. You spot the other members of BTS, who are busy chatting and eating, relieved to be done with performances for a while. They smile at you and laugh as Ho-Seok busily twirls you out and in, bringing you close enough to wrap his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.
He pulls away first, the music calling him as he starts to pop and lock, bringing in hip hop moves you’ve only ever seen him pull off successfully. It’s then that Jimin joins, attempting to match Hobi lock for lock. You’re laughing until a hand reaches for you, pulling you out of the crowd and against them.
“You need water,” Yoongi says, using his free hand to pass you a sealed water bottle, which you greedily take.
“Thank you,” You say tossing it back, the cool liquid quenching the thirst you hadn’t realized you had.
“He’s hard to keep up with,” Yoongi’s eyes are watching Ho-Seok, who is still battling it out with Jimin, Jungkook watching on the side, trying to find the moment to join the dance-off.
“Oh, I know,” You respond, smiling at Yoongi.
“Add Jiminie and Kookie and you’re done for,” Yoongi laughs, tossing a crudité into his mouth.
“I’d never try to keep up with them,” You inform him, hand reaching for your own small bite off the tray of a passing waiter.
“You’re giving him a run for his money, too,” Yoongi nods at you, a small smirk replacing his gummy smile.
“I am?” You ask, unsure what he’s implying.
“Hobi loves, harder than anyone, well, except Taehyung, and you’ve got him. I’ve never met anyone that feels as deeply as Hobi,” Yoongi tells you, eyes watching as Jungkook finds his moment to enter the battle.
“What about Taehyung?” Your attempt at lightening the mood going unnoticed.
“Tete is on his own celestial plane,” Yoongi shakes his head, his pushed back locks tussling softly before falling gently.
“But Hobi?” You ask, returning to your boyfriend.
“I didn’t know if anyone could love Hobi like he could love them,” Yoongi looks at you, sincerity in his eyes, “until you.”
The blush on your cheeks is hard to see over the dimmed and strobing lights, which is grateful because internally you are absolutely panicking. As if sensing your bit of distress, or rather tiring of dancing with the men he dances with every day, Hoseok comes to your aid, water in his hand.
“Speak of the devil,” Yoongi chuckles.
“Or angel,” You counter as Hobi pulls you into him, arm around your waist while his other holds the water bottle, angled to give his body the most hydration.
“I missed you,” Ho-Seok says, kissing your cheek, a bead of sweat dripping from his forehead onto yours.
“You’re so sweaty,” You lightly push him off, reaching for a napkin to pat dry his stunning features.
“Yeah, care to join me?” He wiggles his eyebrows and pulls you towards the dance floor, where he plans to spend the rest of the party, dancing with you until the morning light.
Next: Your Midnights
#merryandbright2020#merry and bright#new year's eve#New Years eve#fireworks#bts fanfic#BTS fan fic#BTS drabbles#BTS fan fiction#jung hoseok / j hope#jung Hoseok#J Hope drabbles#j hope#hoseok x you#Hoseok x reader#thebtswritersclub#btsgoldnet#ficswithluv#bangtanarmynet
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February 2021
Irises and purple, lavender and white hyacinths. For merely three bucks. What a gorgeous bouquet.
My own thai curry recipe. It's THAT delicious.
A pep talk from Manu. Realising I really need to take more chances. And get rid of that dude I've been hanging out with. I've been feeling so stuck lately. I'm toying with the idea of giving it all up. Quitting my job. Leaving the country. Just to see what happens. Because I'm pretty sure I'll love what happens next. / Whatever worlds you live in, there are other worlds out there. If you are uninspired living life a certain way, it’s your duty to change. Nothing, not a relationship or job or housing situation, is worth sacrificing your ravenous hunger for life for. X
I feel my obsession with artificial cherry flavour creeping back up on me. Cherry-flavoured diet coke is one of my guiltiest pleasures.
I keep seeing those multicolour graffiti tags everywhere and I finally found out what kind of pen they use for this effect! I ordered one, I just had to, and it's fantastic. So beautiful and vibrant! I've already asked around how illegal it is to walk around the neighbourhood signing my tag on random surfaces...
Fresh pineapple.
The ocean. Talking about diving. Watching documentaries about marine life like My Octopus Teacher and Blue Planet. Drawing nautical objects, sea dragons and mollusks.
Learning more about apophenia.
It actually smells like spring in the forest and the days are already so much longer. I even saw a deer jumping over the path last night. I even got Frank to join my on my walk for the first time.
A little glimpse of summer. The south of France is my happy place I keep going back to. But there are more little reminders of the world out there, of travel and summer, that I thoroughly enjoy. Like watching Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat with Samin Nosrat. Not only do I really want to try making my own Tahdig now but I also kept smiling throughout the whole show because they filmed episodes in Italy, Japan and Mexico. Just imagine walking across a citrus market in the Yucatan right now. Or making Pesto Genovese with an Italian nonna in a Ligurian castle. Maybe even learning how to make your own miso in a remote corner of Japan. There is so much longing within me at the moment. What made my virtual culinary travels even better was Netflix's Street Food series. I especially enjoyed the episodes from Bolivia and Mexico.
I May Destroy You. Different, and very relevant.
This year's Valentine's Day happened to be pretty rad. So I've exchanged the boring nerd I had been dating with an exciting artist from Colombia. John is a painter, a poet, photographer and filmmaker who gave me a Spanish copy of an Oscar Wilde book with a poem he had written for me. My cold and cynical German heart is not used to wooing on this level but I love it. On Sunday we walked through the English Garden and Schwabing in the sunshine, took photos, looked at some art and antiquarian bookshop windows. We saw two cats inside the cat café, bought fancy macarons at Maelu and just kept talking. I even found a few interesting books about dream interpretation on my way home. John has a reference to Kleist's tragedy Penthesilea tattooed on his collarbone - Küsse/Bisse ("das reimt sich, und wer recht von Herzen liebt, kann schon das eine für das andre greifen"). He is a Scorpio with impeccable taste and sends me songs he plays for me on the guitar / Cocteau Twins tunes upon waking up. I really needed this.
Having my students create English comics with Pixton. I love how much their avatars actually look like them! I hope they had fun, too.
The smell of cherry-flavoured candy wafting through the air.
Semolina pudding with banana. The subtle heat does something to the bananas; the combination is simply delicious.
I watched the first season of Chef's Table and was really impressed by Francis Mallmann. I admire his courage and lifestyle. The constant change he craves. The way he speaks foreign languages and just bravely does his very own, unique thing. I want to live like that, too.
A crystal clear view of the Orion constellation.
Very fine snow powder against the sunlight. As if it was raining glitter.
Feeling cool and confident. A fleeting feeling but it makes such a big difference.
When we practice forgiveness, we let go of shame. Embedded in our shame is always a sense of being unworthy. It separates. Compassion and forgiveness reconnect us. / reading bell hooks' all about love.
Mustering up enough motivation to go through all my stuff in the basement and put a few items on eBay. I'd been putting this off for years now.
I'm amazed how good my phone camera is. I took some pictures in the pitch-black forest and you can make out the moonlight on the path and even see star constellations on the photo.
Spending quality time with a cuddly kitty boi.
Blue corn quesadillas prepared for me by a bloody gorgeous Mexican metalhead.
Writing that message I should have written weeks ago (letting Simon know that I wasn't particularly interested in dating him anymore).
Trolli burgers. The best gummy candy out there. Arguably the most fun. I love being able to disassemble my food and eat it layer by layer.
John's story about that acid trip on a boat somewhere in the ocean off the Colombian coast. They lay under the bright moonlight and were suddenly surrounded by Gray whales communicating with each other through song.
The spicy smell of a fresh, moist loaf of rye bread. Eating it with soured butter and salt.
The first snowdrops of the year.
Another one about the moon: walking home late one evening there was a lunar corona in the fog. I loved how the light illuminated my arms in that cool, white light.
The morning after the worst weekend in months or maybe even years (with both a mental breakdown and a medical emergency because misery loves company, eh?) Waking up early, pain-free. With a little spark of excitement and motivation. Just lying around for an hour in the darkness. Meditating. Falling back asleep for a little while. Getting up eventually, brushing my teeth and hair, painting my nails.
Painting more. Just experimenting with colour, intuitively. Without putting pressure on myself. The other night I painted with oil pastels and chalky pastel crayons while watching Dawson's Creek (I successfully avoided this series for 20 years and now, in my thirties, I start watching it?).
Bananas with nut butter, dark chocolate and sea salt.
Meditating with the blanket covering my nose. Breathing in fresh laundry smell.
Riding home from school with Anastasia, talking about diving adventures.
Reading Jill Heinerth's book Into the Planet. Her career as an explorer and cave diver is breathtakingly exciting. I couldn't put that memoir down. And it made me even more antsy. I'm really unhappy and bored right now - I wanna go out and learn something new, explore, live a little more.
Going to work without make-up. In the last ten or even fifteen years I put on make-up every single day I went to school. I'm done. Lockdown made me come to terms with the look of my bare face.
Learning about Antarctica cruises. It only takes about 24hours to reach the area from Argentina! I'd really love to go but the cruises are crazy expensive.
My house plants sprouting new leaves.
The moment the pain suddenly stops and you can breathe again.
Tropical breakfast. Banana, kiwi, mango, pineapple. And plain yoghurt. Decidedly non-tropical.
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Santos meet spooky and readers newborn babygirl and there in awe 🥺 and the baby has like heart eyes for 😍 sad eyes and shows a gummy smile and he’s like “what can I say, the ladies all love me” ;) and then Oscar is like hell no and it just soft santos with dad Oscar 💕
Yes x100! 💕
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okay sooooooo you tagged me to do this in JULY and I just found it in my drafts lmaoooo but here it is @meetmeatthecoda
Favorite snack? Cheez Its!
Favorite place to go on vacation? Either the beach or a city!
What’s a song that makes you dance immediately? Uptown Funk
Tea or Coffee? And what kind? Cappuccinos or lattes but tea is good sometimes too!
Do you play an instrument? Nope
What’s your favorite type of personality? On other people? Hmmm, well, I’m like immediately drawn to people who go out of their way to make awkward people (me) feel at ease. Like just genuinely easy-going, kind, understanding people. Just chill. Yeah, those are good people, they help me relax and be more like myself.
Favorite Comedian? JOHN MULANEY. ALWAYS
Gummy candy or chocolate? All my fav candies are chocolate
What did you ‘want to be when you grew up’ as a kid? A book editor
What’s your favorite physical feature about yourself? My eyes and smile
When was the last time you watched a show or movie on a TV? I watched Rocketman a few weeks ago on the living room tv at my house
Unpopular Opinion? I don’t know that it’s unpopular but Rocketman was a better film overall that Bohemian Rhapsody and the fact that its basically shut out of the Oscars when BR got like 11 noms is FUCKIN STUPID
Are you scared of bugs? Depends on how big they are lol
Cats or dogs? Dogs I love my idiot boi Destin
Are you allergic to any foods? Not that I know of
Does the description of your star sign match your personality? Probably since they’re all generic on purpose
Favorite type of accent? British whoops
Name the first song that comes into your head! Poker Face cause I’m rewatching the best super bowl halftime performance don’t @ me fam
Who is the sexiest famous person to you? In terms of sexiness, Gal Gadot
Cake or pie? I like more cake flavors than pies but they’re both great
When was the last time you read an entire book? December when I read The Testaments, then Naturally Tan
Favorite junk food? Chips and crackers or popcorn
Do you like your height? Yeah it’s fine. I’m 5′4″ so I’m right at an average I think
Apples or oranges? Apples
Do you like salad? Yeah but its a chore to prepare
What person inspires you the most? Is it bad that no one I know personally really does??? fuck lol.
What is a song that has made you cry? I’m not a crier very often and I can’t even remember a song that has done so. The Good Place series finale made me sob for the whole second half though so there’s that
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Just A Show
Characters: Jensen Ackles, Reader, Jared Padalecki, Kim Rhodes, Briana Buckmaster, Richard Speight
Word Count: 3,460
Warnings: Smut adjacent, some language
A/N: I wrote this for my Galentine’s Day gal, @babypieandwhiskey! This is the first time I’ve ever written RPF and I hope I did all of them justice! In this scenario, Jensen just never met Danneel. I love her dearly, so no hate towards that sweet lady. Thank you @spnfanficpond and @mrswhozeewhatsis for putting on a lovely day!
Beta’d by my sweet name twins, @pinknerdpanda and @amanda-teaches. I was so nervous and was second guessing everything, and it literally took until last minute to get it right, and it wouldn’t have happened without their encouragement. Also @wheresthekillswitch, because she was the first one that saw any of it and also pushed me the right way. I’d be lost. <3
As always, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be added, please let me know. Feedback is always appreciated!
“I thought I told you to stay here! What the hell was that, Lucy?”
“I was following a lead! Just because I’m new at this doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing. You never listen to me!”
He takes a step forward, his hands balled into fists at his side. “You’ve got it backwards, sweetheart, you never listen to me. I let Sam talk me into letting you tag along because we needed help with the trials. That was a bust, and you’re still around. If you plan on staying that way, quit ignoring my orders.”
She matches his step forward and glares up at him, “Your orders? Who the hell do you think you are, Winchester? You aren’t in charge of me. I don’t have to listen to you, and I don’t have to stay here. I don’t need you.”
“Fine! Leave! But when things go to hell and you’re alone and need help, don’t bother calling me!”
“Fine!” She shoves past him and throws the door open, only for it to be slammed back into place. A rough grip spins her around and she’s eye to eye with him. He leans forward, his lips barely grazing hers.
“Cut! That was great, you guys. For a second, I thought you might actually be mad at each other. Let’s take a break, we’ll pick up right after that, and then we’ll be done until the big scene this afternoon.”
Jensen nods, “Sounds good, Rich.” He takes a step back from Y/N and clears his throat, “He’s right, I really thought you might be mad at me for a second.”
“I guess having someone tell me what to do, fake or not, gets me a little heated,” she laughs, hoping he doesn’t notice how flushed she is from his earlier close proximity.
“Ha, heated is right. Thought you might punch me instead of kiss me. Glad it was the latter.” He looks at his watch, “We’ve got about fifteen minutes, I’m going to run to my trailer. See you back here?”
“Yep. Sure thing.”
He smiles, then walks away, leaving her standing alone. She watches him disappear around the corner, and then lets out a frustrated sigh.
“Lucy’s feelings for Dean turning into Y/N’s feelings for Jensen, huh?”
Y/N jumps at the sudden voice and turns around, glaring at the owner. “Jared, that’s ridiculous. He’s my friend, that’s all. It’s called acting.”
“Yea, okay,” he scoffs, “acting. That blush you got going on there,” he waves a hand towards her neck, “that’s not acting. And if it is, I’m just gonna go pick up your Oscar, have it ready for you by the time we all go out tonight.”
“Listen here, Padalecki, there’s nothing there. I just...got into it. That’s it. I’m sure he felt the same way about it.”
Jared laughs and rolls his eyes, “Yea, I’m sure he did. On that note, I’m heading to my trailer, I think I’m just about done for the day. Y’all have that big scene this afternoon, right?”
“You know we do. Quit looking at me like that.”
He grins as he turns to walk away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. See you tonight.” He pulls his phone out as he walks away and begins quickly typing.
Dude. Where are you?
My trailer. Now.
He rolls his eyes and shoves his phone back in his pocket. The afternoon is about to get way more interesting.
Jensen paces back and forth in his trailer as Jared watches him, absentmindedly eating sour gummies as his friend frets.
“What happened today?”
“What do you mean?”
“I barely touched her, man, and it felt like...I don’t know. It felt different somehow. It didn’t feel like Dean and Lucy...it felt like us.”
“Well, Dean and Lucy don’t generally touch each other, Jay. I mean, up until this point, the characters don’t really get along all that well.”
“Yea, and?”
“Aaaaand, what I’m saying is that you and Y/N do get along. So maybe instead of Dean kissing Lucy, it was you...kissing Y/N.”
“Oh, come on! That’s not...there’s no way...it’s Y/N. She’s one of my best friends, I don’t feel like that with her.”
“Then there’s not a problem. You go back, finish filming that scene, and get ready for this afternoon.”
“Shit, I forgot about this afternoon.” He stops pacing and runs his hands over his face, “What am I going to do?”
“Listen,” Jared leans forward and drops the container of candy on the table, brushing the sugar crystals from his hands on his jeans, “if you don’t feel that way about her, this afternoon will be fine, nothing to be worried about. And hell, even if you did feel that way about her, just use it to your advantage. It’ll look even more convincing.” Jensen glares at him and he throws his hands up, “I’m just saying. You do you. And maybe Y/N.”
“I might actually kill you.”
Jared stands up and shrugs, “You asked for my advice. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna take a nap in my trailer while you guys figure out your lives.”
“Thanks for not helping, asswipe.”
“You’re welcome, buttmunch.” He winks and leaves Jensen’s trailer, shutting the door behind him.
“What the hell am I supposed to do now?” Jensen groans, as he slumps into his chair. He glances at his watch and curses under his breath. “I guess I’m about to find out.”
“Alright, let’s pick it up from where we left off! I’d like to see that scene again. It was pretty convincing earlier, but that kiss needs more spark, more umph. Ready?”
Y/N and Jensen take their places and she can’t help but wonder how she’s supposed to look at him after her conversation with Jared. Could he be right?
“Action!”
“I thought I told you to stay here! What the hell was that, Lucy?”
“I was following a lead! Just because I’m new at this doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing. You never listen to me!”
He takes a step forward, his hands balled into fists at his side. “You’ve got it backwards, sweetheart, you never listen to me. I let Sam talk me into letting you tag along because we needed help with the trials. That was a bust, and you’re still around. If you plan on staying that way, quit ignoring my orders.”
She moves forward and glares up at him, “Your orders? Who the hell do you think you are, Winchester? You aren’t in charge of me. I don’t have to listen to you, and I don’t have to stay here. I don’t need you.”
“Fine! Leave! But when things go to hell and you’re alone and need help, don’t bother calling me!”
“Fine!” She shoves past him and throws the door open, and just like before, it’s slammed shut. He spins her around to face him and their eyes lock, and she can’t help but notice how blown out his pupils are, the way he draws his bottom lip between his teeth. Suddenly Jensen’s hand is tangled in her hair and his lips are molded to hers. His free hand drifts down to her hip, and grips her hard, his fingertips grazing her bare midriff and sending chills down her spine.
Her arms go around his neck as he pushes her against the door, his teeth grazing her bottom lip. She has just enough time to trace his lip with her tongue before Rich interrupts.
“Cut! Wow, that was...well, a little more than I was asking for, but convincing! Nicely done, guys. Try to keep it in your pants this afternoon, though, it is just a scene in a show.” He winks and a low wave of laughter travels through the crew.
Jensen pulls back slowly and clears his throat, “Right, just a show.” He pulls his gaze away from Y/N and looks towards Rich. “It’s why they pay me the big bucks,” he says with a laugh before his gaze falls back on her. “Right, Y/N?”
She pushes away from him, her heart racing as she turns to leave the stage, “Yep, that’s it. Sign of a true actor, Jay. See you this afternoon.” This time, she leaves him alone, hurrying across the set. She turns the corner to go towards her trailer and runs straight into someone, nearly knocking both of them down.
“Hey, where you hurrying off to?”
“Oh, hey Kim. Just going to my trailer, we’re done until this afternoon. What are you doing here? I didn’t think you were filming today.”
“Oh, I’m not. I swung by early to hang out until dinner tonight, met up with Briana for lunch. Done until this afternoon, huh? Ready for the big-”
“I know, I know, love scene. I’m ready. I’ve been ready. It’s just a scene, for Chrissakes, it’s not a big deal.”
Kim throws her hands up and raises her eyebrows, “Whoa, what crawled into your panties today, huh?”
Y/N sighs, “No one...nothing, it’s just everyone keeps bringing it up, like it’s a big deal. It’s not.”
“Methinks you doth protest too much.” She holds her arm out and loops it through Y/N’s. “This calls for girl time, no boys allowed. I’ll escort you to to your trailer, and maybe we can sort some shit out.”
Y/N smiles, “That sounds good to me.”
“Places, everyone!”
The set is mostly quiet, with only the necessary people standing at their stations. Y/N is standing quietly off to the side, her robe pulled tight against her as they put the finishing touches on the hotel room set.
“You ready?” She jumps at the sudden voice, smacking Jensen in the arm.
“Yea, I guess. You?”
He nods, “Yea, sure…listen, if any of this makes you uncomfortable, just let me know. These scenes can get weird, and I don’t want you having to do something you don’t want to do.”
Y/N laughs, “I’ve done sex scenes before, I think I’ll be fine. And who says I don’t want to do it?”
He shrugs, “I’m just letting you know. It can be awkward for friends to be put in these situations.”
“I think I can handle being in bed with you, Jensen.” The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them and he laughs.
“Oh, can you? We’ll see.” He winks as he walks towards the bed, handing his robe off to a PA. She can feel the heat blossoming across her chest and up her neck, and hopes that it’s not noticeable as she follows him.
She pulls hers off, too, and lays down, watching Jensen out of the corner of her eye. His eyes widen as he takes in her mostly naked form, and she stretches, settling into place as the last of the crew hustle to their stations. Jensen walks to the edge of the bed and pauses.
“What?”
“Nothing, just, you know…”
“I don’t know. What are you talking about?”
“You-“
“Alright, everyone set! Last big scene for the day, let’s make it a good one!”
“It’s just a show, remember?” she gently prods, watching as he frowns.
“Yea. Just a show.” He climbs into bed and positions himself over her, his hands on either side of her head. One of the assistants arranges the sheets to where it rests just at Jensen’s hips.
“Alright, you know what to do. We’ll do a few takes for different angles, and then we’ll call it quits for the day.” Rich takes a seat behind the monitor. “Action!”
Jensen dips down, brushing his lips against hers as he begins to move, his body rolling above hers. She lifts her head to meet him, crushing her lips to his, one hand gripping the short hairs at the nape of his neck.
He shifts his arms so that they are under her and lifts up, shifting so that he is on his haunches and she is balanced on his thighs. Deepening the kiss, he moves one hand up and cradles her neck, holding her tight against him. She rocks into him, dropping her head to the shoulder opposite of the camera.
“Jensen…”
It is a whisper, not loud enough to pick up anywhere, and he isn’t sure she even said it until she jerks back and looks at him, her eyes wide.
“Cut! Wow, you guys are...you’re really going for authentic today. Let’s reset and go again, try to keep your face on this side, Y/N. Otherwise, nailing it! No pun intended, ha!”
They reset, only this time Jensen slips in behind Y/N so that they’re both facing the camera. He props himself up on one elbow and lets his hand slip under her hair. Rich yells action, and Y/N’s eyes close as he brushes it from her neck, his lips trailing from just behind her ear and downward. His breath is warm against her cool skin, and she can feel the goosebumps popping up along her arms. She leans back, her head resting on his shoulder as he moves against her.
Suddenly he flips her onto her stomach, and she has to remember that they’re filming, that none of this is real. One hand smooths along her back and over her shoulder, then rests on her throat, just barely pulling back. She groans involuntarily, and he leans over her back, his lips brushing her ear, “It’s just a scene, remember?”
“Cut! You guys really delivered on that, I think we’ve got enough. Maybe go take some cold showers after that, I think most of the crew needs to.” A ripple of laughter echoes through the mostly empty sound stage and Jensen throws off the sheet, jumping off the bed a little faster than necessary. Y/N sits up and stares at him as he puts his robe back on, and he raises his eyebrows.
“What?”
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
She waves at the bed, agitation written on her face, “This?”
He shrugs, “I was acting, you said you could handle it.”
She opens her mouth to reply, then drops her gaze and grins, “Yea, well, I think I handled it a little better than you.” His eyes follow hers down and he yanks his robe shut. “I’ll see you at dinner, Ackles. Maybe you should take Rich’s advice and get that cold shower.” She hops off the bed and grabs her robe from one of the PAs, then disappears around the corner towards her trailer.
“Yea, well...you take a cold shower.” He grimaces at the bad comeback, blaming his time as Dean for ruining his good retorts. He heads towards his trailer, hoping to get this afternoon off his mind before the gathering tonight.
“You should sit next to Y/N.” Jared leans against the wall of the large party room at the restaurant while Jensen fixes himself a drink at the bar.
“We aren’t in high school. Leave it alone.”
“No, we aren’t, which is why you should be an adult and sit next to her.”
Jensen rolls his eyes as he takes a sip of beer, “You’re one to talk. Why are you pushing this so hard, anyway?”
“I heard about this afternoon. You can’t fake something like that. Look at me and Gen. You know I’m right.”
“There was something with you and Gen, though. This is totally different.”
“Oh, okay. Sure. Meeting on set, the sexual tension, totally different.”
“Shut up.”
“What are you boys whispering about over here?” Jared looks over to see Kim walking towards them, Briana in tow.
“Oh, just how Jensen likes Y/N and won’t admit it to himself.” He looks back to Jensen, “Was that an accurate answer?”
“I’m going to show you an accurate answer-”
“Oh, Jared, leave him alone. This isn’t high school, he doesn’t need someone to fight his battles. Right, Bri?”
“Right! We’re all adults here, and as an adult, Jay knows when to confront his emotions and be honest with himself and those he loves.”
“I hate all of you.”
“Why do you hate everyone?”
“Y/N! Oh, we’re just picking on him. He can dish it, but he sure can’t take it. Come on, love, let’s go sit down.” Kim grabs Y/N’s arm and pulls her away, and she looks back over her shoulder in confusion.
“Dude, talk to her,” Jared says as he claps him on the shoulder. “You’ll be better off if you do.”
He walks off to join the group and Jensen watches from a distance as Kim shuffles everyone around, leaving the only open seat next to Y/N.
“Seriously…” he mutters under his breath, slipping into the seat just as the waitress begins walking around the table to take orders.
“What’s wrong?” Y/N asks under her breath, taking a sip of water as she watches him from the corner of her eye.
“Nothing, just tired.”
“Hmm...right.” She puts in her drink order, then starts flipping through the menu, occasionally eyeing Jensen as he looks through his own. She feels a nudge from the left and looks over to see Kim raising her eyebrows at her, waggling them absurdly. “Stop it,” she hisses, eliciting a giggle from her friend.
“Stop what?” Jensen asks, looking at her quizzically.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Are you sure? I’m pretty sure I heard you say stop.”
She shakes her head, feigning innocence, “I didn’t say a word.”
“Huh, weird.” He goes back to looking at his menu and she sighs. She feels another nudge but opts to ignore it. Instead, she drops her hand under the table, takes a deep breath, and lets it land on Jensen’s knee.
He clears his throat and she can see him trying not to react to her hand as it slips past his knee and stops at his thigh. Another inch and his leg jerks, his knee slamming into the table, nearly knocking over the glasses and splashing water on the table. “Oh, God, sorry. Sorry.” He picks up his napkin and dabs at the offending puddles, then shoots a glare at Y/N. “I’ll be right back. Gonna run to the restroom.” He leaves the table, and Kim elbows Y/N.
“I don’t know what you did, kid, but good job.” Y/N turns and winks at her, then slowly stands up and pushes her chair in, her phone in hand.
“I’ll be right back, I just need to take this call.” Kim and Jared exchange a knowing look as Y/N slips out of the party room and down the hall to the main restaurant. Suddenly, she feels someone grab her arm, and she’s yanked into an adjoining hallway.
“What the hell was that?” Jensen almost looks mad, but she can’t tell how much of it is anger, and how much of it is whatever pent up feeling they both had.
“Someone had to make a move.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know you heard me this afternoon.”
He thinks back to her whispered declaration, his name not Dean’s, “Yea, I did.”
“I didn’t want it to just be a scene...you know that, right?” He’s silent as he contemplates her, and she’s worried she should have left it alone. “If you don’t feel the same…”
She doesn’t get a chance to finish. His lips crash into hers and he presses her against the wall. This time, no one else is watching, there’s no camera rolling, it is just them and he takes advantage of it. He lets his fingers roam up the soft fabric of her dress, trace along the edge where cloth meets skin, then cups her breast gently as he runs his thumb over her nipple. She grinds against him, gasping when she feels his hardened length against her thigh.
“I don’t want it to just be a scene, either,” he says quietly, pushing hair from her face as he looks down at her.
“I’m...I’m glad. That’s good.” She is flustered, and he smiles as he takes in her flushed cheeks and how her chest moves as she tries to catch her breath.
“Do you still want to do dinner, or should we maybe leave? Because I’m not sure I can sit there next to you knowing what else we could be doing.”
“We can always order in,” she says with a twinkle in her eye, and he grabs her hand.
“I knew there was more than one reason I liked you.”
“What are the other reasons?”
“If we hurry, I can show you at least three reasons before the entree even arrives.”
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