#anyways i’m going to smoke a blunt and pretend i am not a bit sad

[hellfireeddiemunson]

feelin insecure bc three of my friends are hanging out rn but didn’t invite me and i have never not been invited to hangout with them all

[riofann]

Meet The Parents

GIF by: @leelakoiwolff​

A/N: Part of The Spooky Series

Warnings: some violence, cursing, mentions of smut, 18+ crowd

Things between you and your boyfriend Oscar were not going so great. The honeymoon phase was over and now it just seemed like all you two did was argue over dumb shit. You actually hadn’t talked or texted him in over a week after your last blow up, both of you had too much pride to back down. However today was ‘Santos Day’ and there was going to be a big party at Spooky’s house. All the Santos would be in attendance.

You and Letti had decided to bake a cake in celebration

“What type of cake should we bake?” she asked

“We should make it like the Santos sign, the cross and all”

“Oh yea! We should, good idea!” 

You both rush to the grocery store to grab all the ingredients you simply didn’t have enough at home. 

“How are things between you and Spook?” Letti asked

You shrug “I don’t know haven’t heard from him”

“Well hopefully with ‘Santos Day’ being today it will break the ice and we can double date again!” She was Sad Eyes' girlfriend. Very sweet young lady cared for Sad Eyes and Santos like they were her family. 

“Yea...” you said agreeing but deep down you weren’t so sure. The argument you had was so stupid you couldn’t even remember how it started, but it did, and one thing led to another which resulted in Oscar grabbing his things and leaving slamming your condo door behind him. 

~~~~As the time approaches you both get ready. You didn’t put much effort into your outfit, black jeans white top, and converse, you weren’t planning on staying anyway. You had a back up plan texting your cousin Sasha earlier in the day making plans to hang out with her and her boo. Even if it was third wheeling, you’re positive it would be better than having to pretend all was okay between you and Oscar. 

As you both arrive there are cars all over the street so finding parking was quite difficult. You had to walk a bit before you got to the house carrying cake in hand. 

“HHHEEEYYY!” Letti greets as she enters “Look what we brought!”

“Damn thats a cake?” Cesar asked 

“Yup we made it for ‘Santos Day’”

“Damn!”  

“Yo Spook!” Lucky one of his men called him to “Get in here!” 

Oscar slowly rose from his chair in the back of the house and walked in

“Look at the cake!” Lucky speaks to him pulling him in the direction of the cake 

(A/N:The cake is a replica of Cesar’s back tattoo, with cupcakes spelling out Happy Santos Day) 

“We made you a cake for ‘Santos Day’!” Letti says exited

“Hope you like it!” you added 

“Looks good, before we eat it call everybody into the house” Oscar said

You stood next to Letti and watched him give a speech, thanking The Santos for being his make up family and watching over his little brother Cesar. Afterwards it took you and Letti some time to cut and distribute either cupcakes or cake pieces to everyone, by the time you were done both Oscar and Sad Eyes had migrated back to their chairs in the back of the house and were just relaxing listening to conversations. Letti left to be by Sad Eyes before you did. You were doing a little bit more cleaning there were beer bottles and cans everywhere, red solo cups all over. You just wanted the place to be a little bit neater. 

When you step out to find the crew there's a couple girls sitting close to Oscar, flirting with him this was normal you had gotten used to it by now. 

All the ‘important’ Santos sat in the circle, as you approached the group a few attempted to offer you their seat but you declined and made your way to Oscar.

You bent over next to him putting your hand on his shoulder. “Hey!” he gave you that notorious mug and you quickly removed your arm, so much for breaking the ice he was still mad at you, “I'm gonna go, I’ll see you later okay?” He didn't respond, just give you a look you couldn’t read besides anger and irritation. “bye babe” you say before kissing his cheek

“Bye guys Happy ‘Santos Day’ drink up be merry yea?”  you speak to the group

“Where you going?” Letti asked 

“Yea what's up with that?” Sad Eyes chimed in

“Come on you can’t leave” someone else spoke up

“Sorry guys, my cousin Sasha and I made plans. I'll see you guys later.” you wave goodbye and quickly make your way down the driveway. Everyone knew there was bad blood between you two but nobody knew exactly what.

All eyes turned back to Oscar, who you feel boring a hole into your back

“Watch out” Letti said to Sad Eyes as she stood from his lap. “Y/N!” she called to you by this time you were walking down the street to your car. When she caught up you were wiping away your tears

“Yea!”

“You can’t leave, talk to him”

“I’m tired of being the one who always surrenders Aletticia!” you vent

“Y/N come on you guys are good together”

“Maybe we aren't suppo...”

Before you can finish Oscar had caught up with you two and was standing a few feet back “What’chu guys talking about?”

You turned to look the other way while wiping away your tears 

“Nothing Spooky we’ll be in soon” Letti answers

“I gotta go” you say hugging Letti “I’ll talk to you later” 

“Vamos” Oscar called tilting his head backwards

Letti begun to walk towards him 

“Not’chu,” he points at you “You, Y/N vamos” “Oscar I have...” you protest 

He interrupts once again “Cancel them”  he said stepping closer 

“Fine” you said walking towards your boyfriend, you had given up and you knew if you made this an issue things might get worse 

“AAAYYEE you came back!” Sad Eyes celebrates

“Have a seat” Oscar says to you as you approach his chair 

“Yea!”  you say forcing a smile 

You text your cousin canceling movie night plans it worked out for her anyway, she was getting hot and heavy with her boo thing. 

When Oscar returns he has another beer bottle in hand and a red solo cup “Here” he said handing you the drink. “Taste it”  He knew beer wasn’t your thing, you hated it, you would rather go for the liquor. 

You take a sip and smile. He made it just how you like, sweet. “It's good thanks”

He pulls you to stand up before sitting down on the chair and pulling you on his lap. He adjusts a bit and you sit still, your back is straight up you haven’t relaxed into him yet, your body is tense against his. 

“You comfy?” he asks close to your ear

“Mhmm” you nod taking a sip 

“Ven aquí”  he says pulling you closer to him practically forcing you to lay on him wrapping one arm around you resting his hand on your thigh

You don’t make a noise but just sit and sip on your drink. You didn’t do well with confrontation let alone a full blown in your face argument. You always needed verbal confirmation that things were good between you two before you felt at ease again. 

Your phone vibrates and it's a text from Letti

Letti: TALK. TO. HIM

You look up at her scolding you. You know Oscar has seen the text because he chuckles out of nowhere. 

You sigh and run your fingers through your hair. 

“Changed your hair?” 

“Yea” you had made it lighter and added a few highlights “you like it?” 

“It's cool,” he could care less you could be bald and he would still think you were the baddest in the group “what’chu been up to?” 

“Just work” you answer curtly

He nods and takes a pull from his blunt. He blows out the smoke. 

Out of nowhere you squeal from the sensation that just hit you causing the group to look at you “Oscar!” You say smiling now trying to get out of his lap, he was pinching your sides knowing they are your ticklish spots

“What?” he asks smiling while he pinches your side again causing you to squeal 

“Stop” you squirming around his lap

“Talk to me then, like Letti said”

“About what?” you ask looking in his eyes 

“Anything”

“Okay what happened to your hand?” you ask the obvious

“Don’t worry about it”

You shrug “I have no other questions”

“I got a question”

“Okay”

It takes him a moment before he finally speaks “How come i ain’t never met any of your family only your grandma who used to live down the street”

You turn to look at him and hold a puzzling look

“What cat got your tongue?”

“No,” you were putting two and two together  “is that why you're mad at me?”

“Answer the question.” he responds calmly before taking another pull from his blunt

“You answer the question!” you could really be difficult to deal with sometimes. 

“I mean we been dating what six, seven months you’ve met my entire Santos crew i don’t  even know your moms first name”

“I don’t know” you shrug “we have never really talked about it, i didn't think you cared”

“You embarrassed of me or something?” his facial expression changed to a serious one

“No! I am not”

“So whats up then?”

“We literally haven’t talked about meeting my parents i didn't think it mattered but i am not embarrassed of you! Don't think that!” 

“So when can i meet them?” he asks challenging you

“Uh” you hesitate before answering “I can text them and find out when would be a good time”

“Do it then”

“Now?” 

He nods “Yea”

“Its one in the morning”

“So? When they wake up they’ll see it”

“Okay” you say pulling out your phone and type the message “happy?” you ask showing him the text 

He raises his brow and shakes his head looking away 

“Hey” you say, making him look at you. “I am not embarrassed of you and I’m sorry if i made you feel that way.” 

“It’s cool, give me a kiss”

You leaned in to plant kisses on his lips. You two always did 3 meaningful kisses followed by an eskimo kiss

“There we go there we go!” Baldie, another one of his men, claps “WHOO that’s what we want to see!” You both flick him off before returning to the conversation. 

~~~~~A date was finally set for Friday night. Oscar was to pick you up from your condo and you were both to arrive by 7PM.

“Come on Y/N we are late!” he fusses, he was so anal about time

“It’s fine i guarantee you my mom is waiting for me to help her cook”

“Yea but i don't want my first impression to be bad i already got strikes against me”

“Like what?”

He counts on his fingers “Like my tattoos, my occupation, my record”

You shrug “I dont care about those”

“But your parents will”

“Are you dating them or me?” you challenge 

“Ay! Esta mujer! Vamos!”

“Okay! okay! im done sheesh!”

You both don't say much during your ride there. Truth be told you were both nervous. When you pull up to the affluent community, Oscar feels his nerves raging he didn’t care about them not liking him but what if they influenced you to feel the same?

He parks the car looking at the houses around him 

“DAMN you lived like this?” He asked 

“Yea” you shrug it was nothing special to you but for someone who grew up like Oscar it was something

“Ready?” you ask as you hold his hand pulling him towards the house

You open the door and call out, “Mom?” the dogs start barking, two Samoyeds run up, “Hi Tweety, Hi Sylvester, how are you I missed you!”  you greet them, Oscar does the same bending down to rub their heads, “Mom? Dad?”

You hear talking further into the house “they must be in the kitchen come on” 

You walk through the house and find them deep in conversation, in the kitchen 

“Hey mom, hi dad”

“Ahh Y/N you finally made it!” your dad comments he stands up and  glances at his watch. Oscar could pinch you right there “right on time!” He walks up and gives you a hug

“Hi sweety” your mom chimes in, giving you a hug too

“Hi mom this is Oscar, my boyfriend, Oscar my mom and dad Jennifer and Nicolas” 

“Nice to meet you son, come here” your dad said pulling him in for a hug

“Hi give me a hug too” 

“Nice to meet you guys”

“You guys got here right on time, dinner is almost ready! Y/N why don’t you help your mom finish up” he speaks to you before turning to Oscar  “let's go for a chat shall we? What's your poison?” your dad asked

“I'm good with anything sir,” this was his first time meeting parents. “Oh no, Call me Nicolas”

The two men walk away and your mom’s smile drops

“Really Y/N?”

“What mom?”  you say preparing yourself 

“Him? Of all people Him?” 

“Yes HIM” 

“What about Brett”

“Oh you mean the piece of shit who cheated on me repeatedly?”

She huffed handing you the salad bowl “what do you think is gonna happen, hmm? That you two can live happily ever after?”

“Why can't we live happily in the moment?” you argue 

“How long have you been dating?”

“Almost 7 months”  you mumble 

“7 MONTHS!” 

On the patio Oscar and your dad’s head snap at the direction of the scream

“Don’t mind them so tell me about yourself Oscar,” he motions to his cheek indicating the same spot as Oscar’s tattoo “is that tattoo real?”

“Yes” 

“Killed someone? That's what that means right?”

Oscar adjusts in his seat “Something like that?” he wasn’t sure how much he should reveal of himself. 

“Well did you?”

“No, attempted, self defense” he takes a sip of his whiskey

“When did you get out?”

“Bout a year ago”

Your dad nodded as he analyzed his outfit. You had told Oscar to be his true self and not change a thing, so he was dressed in his Cholo garb

“The other tattoo?” He turns so your dad can see all of it “Santos” “Your gang?”

“Yea”

Your dad adjusts in his seat “So what plans do you have for yourself Oscar? Do you plan on being in a gang your whole life?”

“Honestly?” he was going to reveal his true feelings to another person, that would make two, you and your dad. 

“Yea honestly”

“Honestly im kinda tired of it, trying to figure out how to get out but things are kind of complex”

“How’d you get involved?” 

Oscar tells him the family history all of it, might as well tell him now and hold nothing back 

“Wow i'm sorry to hear that must have been rough”

He shrugs “I made it through”

“How long have you been dating my daughter”

“7 months”

“Wow! She kept you hidden for 7 months, we didn’t even know, as much as she came over we would have never known.”

“Yea it was my idea, for us to meet” 

Your dad nodded, “I know you know my concern is my daughter’s safety at all times” 

“She's safe with me”

“I don’t question her being safe with you. It's been 7 months and she hasn’t come back with a scratch on her. My concern is how involved she is in your gang life”

“She's not” 

“She's not?”

“No she knows what we do but i’ve never asked her to step in and do something on behalf of the gang”

“Okay good because my concern is not so much that you two are dating more or don't throw your life away because of loyalty to..”

Oscar cuts him off knowing where the conversation was going. “I get it. I would never ask her to do that. I actually want my brother to leave the gang life too”

“Well good i’m glad we have an understanding”

“Honey!” your mom calls from the patio door

“Perfect timing again! Come on Oscar let's go eat! I hope you like italian” 

They both stood up and begin to walk slowly towards the kitchen

“If you ever need anything, in regards to your exit from your uh ‘club’ let me know and i will see what i can do”

“Thank you, I appreciate that”

“No problem anytime my friend, anytime”

Dinner was awkward between you and your mom.  There was a huge argument over you dating Oscar, but otherwise the conversation was kept light. Afterwards you both hang around, allowing mostly your mom to get to know him better before you leave. 

You both get in and say nothing for a few minutes until you hit the highway. 

“What did you and my dad talk about?” you ask 

“Don't worry about it” he says looking over at you flashing a smile

You knew that was good news you didn’t need to know the details

“What was that screaming we heard?” he asks you 

“Oh uh my mom was upset that i kept you hidden for almost 7 months”

“Did you tell her it was your fault?”

“YES” you roll your eyes

“What did she say?”

“She wasn’t happy” 

“And?” he knew that wasn’t all of it

“And said other things you know typical mom stuff” 

“She doesn’t like me huh?” he says knowing the truth you were hiding

“Yet, doesn't like you yet”

Your mind drifts off to the conversation in the kitchen

“7 MONTHS!”

“Mom!” you didn’t want Oscar to hear you two

“What? 7 fucking months you’ve been dating that!....that!...” 

“Human being” you cut her off before she said something else more degrading

“Why would you throw your life away?” she now stands across from you 

“I am not throwing my life away I still work at the firm, my behavior hasn’t changed, He hasn't asked me to do anything”

“Yet”

“Oh my god of course”

“Yet Y/N! What if you are in danger?” “He will protect me!”

“How? By brandishing a gun and shooting it? Then what about you huh? If you get shot?”

“I won't”

“Yet”

“Mom!”

“Yet Y/N do not mom me! I knew i shouldn’t have allowed you to go visit your grandmother”

“He is not that type of person!”

“YET!”

“Are you serious right now?”

She moves to stand closer to you “Riddle me this. Are you willing to pull out a gun and shoot?”

“IF I HAVE TO DEFEND MYSELF YES”

“What about him? Huh? Are you willing to shoot someone on his behalf?”

You shrug “Yes why not?” 

“So you're just gonna throw your life away like that?”

“Mom, dad has guns, are you telling me if some person came to hurt you guys you wouldn't defend yourself and dad?”

“I'm not saying that, what I'm saying is when you associate yourself with people like him it's hard for society to see your true intentions, you will be reduced to nothing but a gang banger girlfriend.”

“Mom can you give him a chance, please!” 

“And he has a teardrop tattoo! So that means he has done time in prison?”

“Yea so what?” you shrug She stood back shocked by your nonchalant attitude“Y/N i honestly don’t know who you are anymore!” 

“I was the same daughter who came to visit last week. You didn’t have concerns about my person then!” 

“Because you were hiding him from me!” 

“Because I knew you would react like this!”

She threw her hands up in frustration “Y/N I can’t do this with you!” “Mom, I don't want to date rich guys. I want to date regular people. All the money we had and i still ended up depressed with anxiety and all the boys and men I have dated they didn't care about me the way he does. So can you please just give him a chance?” you beg

She scoffed “and you think you’re so special huh?” “Yes!” 

“I can't believe you. I am very disappointed in you. I raised you better!”

“This is why i kept him a secret”

She scoffs “don’t put this on me!”

“Fine it's my fault i'm a shitty daughter i’m a big disappointment. Sorry i couldn’t find a rich guy to fuck like you did” you argue back

You feel a sting across your face, “typical” you say as you hold your cheek. This was part of the reason you moved out. You two just couldn’t seem to get along. 

“You watch your tone!” she threatens now squaring up with you, waving her finger in your face

You take a deep breath and move back “You seem to easily forget where you grew up.” You wipe away the tears. Your voice breaks as you speak “I don’t need your approval. I don't need dad's approval. I really care about him, mother, he makes me happy, he takes care of me, he keeps me safe, isn't that all that matters?”

“What if he gets locked up?”

You shrug “Then he gets locked up!” 

“Are you gonna wait 10 years? Waste your life away waiting for some thug to get out of jail before you live life?”

You take in a deep breath before you speak “He wouldn't let me do that. We already discussed this. As soon as he goes to jail we are done. And that's part of the reason why he is trying so hard to NOT go back”

“I don't know what to say”

“Just give him a chance. I tried it your way I really did. But the men of today aren’t like dad, the rich spoiled men aren’t like dad they don’t care and they all treated me like shit. Oscar has never done that to me”

“When all of this comes crashing down don’t ever say, i never warned you”

“That's okay i know dad has my back even though you don’t” you say as you walk away 

“Y/N!” she huffed as you walked away. 

“Y/N!” Oscar calls your name 

“Hmm!?” you say turning to face him  He rubs on your thigh “You okay bebita?” 

“Mhmm!” you hum taking his hand into yours

“I asked what you want to do? My place or yours?”

You shrug “doesn’t matter to me.”

He nods heading over to your place. 

The rest of the night goes smoothly but you can’t seem to get your mind off of the conversation you and your mom had. You don’t really sleep but listen to him snore lightly. Maybe your mom is right. Were you being that naive?  It was easier to pretend when your parents didn’t know anything but now it felt like reality was hitting you hard. And you start to remember the run-ins with The Prophets and how things were fine one second and the next it was war. You think about the gun he gifted you to protect yourself, it stayed in the night stand drawer.  He has shown you how to shoot it, how to load it, how to clean it, unjam it, all of that. What about your safety? You lived in a condo downtown with parking underneath the building, you started to wonder if he had been followed to your place, What about you? Had you been followed? Do his enemies know where you live? Do they know the car you drive? Should you get another car? What about your job? Your friends? Now your parents.  It was all too overwhelming and you didn’t have concrete answers for all it. 

When morning arrives you ease your way out of bed careful to not wake him up, you sit in the living room staring at the walls drinking tea, deep in thought. When you hear him wake up you rush to the kitchen pretending to make something for breakfast, so you pull out eggs, bacon, and fruit. 

“Morning” he greets you with sleep laced in his voice, you loved his sleepy voice 

“Hey good morning”

“Kiss” he states leaning down for your 3 kisses and Eskimo kiss “mmm making me breakfast?”

“Yes!”

He smacks your ass 

“Hey!” You say holding onto it

He smirks and you know that look all too well “what if i only want you for breakfast?” he asks picking you up placing you on the counter

“I’m not food”

“Speak for yourself”

You giggle as he bombards your neck and lips with kisses “baabbee” you whine

“Hmm?” he hums paying you no mind, he was preoccupied

“I have to cook”

“My meal is hot and ready” he says cupping your pussy

You erupt in laughter

“No seriously” you say pushing him away

“Why you being stingy?” he pouts playfully

You lean down to kiss his lips “I am not!” “You know i need it at least 3 times a week!”

“You got it 4 times this week” you counter back

“I can’t help myself it's so good, you got me feenin”

“Really Oscar”

“Plus 1 of them was a quickie so it didn’t count” 

“You came! So it actually does count” 

“Okay how ‘bout we go for the record do it all 7 days?” 

You laugh at his proposal, but you’re becoming weak to the temptation, he knows what buttons to push to get you going. The spatula you're holding drops to the floor, a result of you wanting to pull him in closer. He pulls you forward so your bottom half is hanging off the edge, he gently pushes you down on the cold counter. With one swift move he removes your shorts and underwear. You wrap your legs around his body so you don’t feel like you’re going to fall. He rubs up and down your thighs lightly, he knows you're anticipating  his next move. You roll your hips against his growing hardness. He reaches down and flicks your clit  with this thumb causing you to jolt away from him.

He grabs you holding you in place “don't run, i’m flicking the bean over here”

You can’t help but laugh, sex with him was just as goofy as it was intimate 

You watch as he returns his thumb to its place right on your clit and starts rubbing it in circular motions 

“I think i’m in love” he comments

“Are you talking to me or it?” you ask now curious 

“Shit i don’t know” he answers not looking up at you, he was mesmerized 

Before things get going his phone rings he groans in frustration but he is on a mission. It stops ringing and you hear it chiming meaning someone was texting him before it rings again this time you grab his wrist

“It could be important.”  It is important, phone calls signaled trouble

“Fuck men i can’t win!” he complains as he walks away from you. He picks up the phone and closes the door. You can’t hear much but after a few minutes he exits fully dressed. Gotta go

“Okay be safe” 

“I need my kisses,”  he says leaning in to give you a kiss. It didn’t matter how bad things were, he wasn't going to leave without getting his 3 kisses and nose kiss. You two actually argued about it once. He called them his ‘good luck kisses.’

A/N: as always please let me know what you think

[lowkeywritings]

Games - O.D. imagine (1/2)

Disclaimer: Hello! This is my first imagine for OMB; felt like writing some Spooky stories. A second part will be coming for this, so please let me know your thoughts on it! And thank you to @spookysprincesa for helping out! (gif not mine)

Feel free to send in requests!

Warnings: language, far too angst-y, will be redeemed in second part 

Word Count: 2931 oops

//

She knew it had been a bad idea. Her sister had said as much, too. And her mamma. And that really short kid from around the block, big eyes and all. 

There are some things you just know.

The sun will rise tomorrow. Prophets are the enemy. Water is wet. The sky is blue. There’s no such thing as the ‘friendzone’. 

Also, Oscar Diaz is an asshole. 

Yet, knowing that, and having witnessed hordes of women enter and leave Spooky’s life, most for quite short-lived affairs, she had managed, unluckily for her, to get involved with him. 

It had started the way most of these things do - somewhat intoxicated and unbothered by the idea of consequences. A few too many blunts had her floating above the sofa, getting lost in a dark, hypnotizing gaze, losing all sense of where he ended and she began. Years of friendship down the drain, of swallowing down feelings, because of course he doesn’t like you and this couldn’t work out, he’s not like that.

His lingering touches told a different story that night, yet here they were. She, locked in a damp and dimly-lit bathroom, losing a staring contest with her own reflection - he, smugly sat on a decaying barcalounger in his own living room, winning a contest of his own in which his hand battled with rising up an excessively short skirt tightly wrapped around an excessively attractive woman. 

Had to be expected, really. A few smashes after parties, unbeknownst to everyone they knew, didn’t exactly make for a solid relationship. They weren’t a thing. She didn’t want them to be, anyway. Right?

Contest over. Her reflection won, puffy eyes and all. But what did it matter? He wasn’t hers to cry over. She took an extra minute to talk herself up, index finger pointed at the mirror.

You a bad bitch. You don’t care about him, or his stupid pretty face. You’re a warrior. Show no fear. 

It seemed a bit much, but it worked, and soon enough she was ready to face the outside. 

The air was heavy as she emerged from the bathroom, blasting music bringing her back to the harsh reality unfolding in front of her. The door snapped behind her - forgot it did that - bringing a few questioning stares her way. 

His, namely. His eyes flashed of regret for an instant, so fast you could’ve almost missed it. She didn’t. 

Miss short-skirt didn’t, either, and certainly not when he stood, quite roughly, and her excessively round bottom nearly won over the floor. He held her back, his hand around her waist, and the room suddenly got blurry once again.

Confused as to why this was bothering her so much, she opted to leave it to the universe to figure its stuff out and cut the night short. Why stay around if the only person you truly want to hang out with is busy with someone else? 

What kind of game is that? 

Fresh air entered her lungs and she breathed it in, like pushing her head above water. It felt light, freeing. Nothing anchoring her down in that god-forsaken living room. She had fond memories of that place, of hanging around him without a care in the world, laughing it up. Simple times. When the idea of him feeling up some other girl didn’t matter much, because he just didn’t know what he was missing then. 

He did now, yet he was still in there with her and she was out here by herself.

She was barely passed the outside sofa, however, when she heard the door, her chest tightening at the idea that it might be him. Probably wasn’t, though. That kind of thing only happens on TV.

“Hey.”

His voice was low, but clear and unmistakably his. It cut through the dark night and stopped her going forward, feigning surprised as she turned to him. 

“Hmm?” she sang back, a perfect picture on nonchalance. She wasn’t leaving because of him, or his new conquest, and she didn’t care about his stupid ass anyway. 

“Where you goin’?” He caught up with her in a few long steps, simultaneously getting out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He offered her one, and she declined with a wave of her hand. 

“Dunno. Why?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and watching as he lit his own cigarette. 

He shrugged. “Just curious.” Yeah right. “Shouldn’t go walkin’ around too much at night, though. Lookin’ like this,” he added, avoiding her eyes as he looked around, then at the ground. 

“Like what?” she insisted, raising her eyebrow in a dramatic fashion. He smirked swiftly, the sight of his dimple making her stomach flip, but evaded the question. 

“You know,” he replied, voice low, still not looking at her much. He seemed more interested in staring into the distance and squaring his shoulders, like he was trying to intimidate the air or something. She knew, of course, what he meant. He meant to say she looked nice, like someone who might get attention. He meant it as a compliment, but seemed very intent of not letting it out.

She waited, hopeful. It never came. “Sure,” she sighed. 

He was a very poor conversationalist for someone who had chased her down in her leave. She stayed silent, watching him take a long drag of his smoke, taking the time to admire his face.

“Doesn’t mean anything, you know,” he said quite suddenly, meeting her eyes for the first time. Her questioning look let him know she wasn’t sure what he meant, and he went on. “Deena.”

He said the girl’s name like that was supposed elicit some sort of reaction. Miss short skirt doesn’t mean anything, he said. Ah.

Their own encounter didn’t seem to mean much, either, despite their prior friendship, yet they had still seen each other naked five times. Did it really have to mean something for her to be annoyed? 

She hadn’t even been with anyone else, not that he’d asked her for that. Though she knew, as well as everyone else, that he probably wouldn’t have taken kindly to it. Typical older brother, alpha-male attitude. 

Never wants to share anything. 

“What’you mean?” she asked, perfectioning the act of pretending she didn’t know, or care, that he would or had already stuck it in with some other chick. That the mere idea of it was making her blood boil. That she didn’t wish she could walk back in the house, grab that puta by the hair and yank her through a window, and flying far away from Freeridge, Spooky’s living room, and his dick.

Spooky didn’t explain, and instead studied her face for a minute too long. He seemed annoyed, for a second, like he hadn’t expected it. Like he, too, wanted her to go back into the house, hair-yanking galore.

Had he been putting on a show for her benefit, she wondered. Sounded like him, the way he always enjoyed mocking others and getting a laugh out of it. That kind of game, however, with her as the butt of the joke, seemed a bit far fetched even for him. 

“Oscar,” she continued innocently before he could say anything, taking a step towards him, getting close enough that she had to tilt her head up slightly to catch his gaze. She batted her eyelashes at him, and his eyes widened in excitement, enjoying the feeling of her soft hands on his broad chest. 

He had always liked the way she said his name. 

The way she whispered it through her lips made it sound something of a promise, a warmth he didn’t remember much of. 

The next thing she said, however, felt cold as ice. 

“You ain’t my man. Chill, okay? It’s not that serious.”

His nostrils flared as she stepped back, any hint of her presence now replaced with a gust of wind. 

She flashed him a sad smile, turning away and walking towards the street. She was heading home, not that she was going to tell him that. She preferred to give off the feeling that she was going out, enjoying her night, outside of him, who isn’t her man. 

“Hey!” he said again, this time much louder than before. She was further, to be fair, but he also seemed a little less friendly than before, too. She turned back, staying where she stood, in the middle of the street. 

“What?” she replied in the same tone, squaring her jaw. Time to drop the act, it seemed. She knew she has struck a chord, telling him to chill and leaving him behind. Knowing him, he was bound to be annoyed. Angry, even, or so his eyes said.

“What’re you playing at?”

“I ain’t playing. I’m leaving.”

He kissed his teeth, taking a deep breath. Trying to calm himself down, she realized. He really was angry. She beamed at the thought, pleasantly surprised that she could incite that in him. She had always been the one to calm him down, when he got riled up. When they were just friends.

“You’re not leaving, for one,” he said, his voice rumbling. She felt a shiver run through her spine, but hoped it didn’t show on her face. Now is not the time, hoe. “And you’re not talkin’ to me like that, either.”

“Or what?” she challenged him, using a loud voice she didn’t know she had. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem,” he went on, clenching his jaw as he took a step forward, “is your fucking tone. Now get back inside.”

She let out a humourless laugh, tilting her head to the side like she was truly wondering if he was serious. He clearly was, by the stare he was giving her, his tensed body and the dangerous steps he kept taking towards her. 

‘Spooky’ was right. 

“My tone’s just fine, and I am leaving. Give Deena my regards, will ya?” she spat, turning away like she didn’t know he was already steps away from her and about to catch up with his ridiculously tall legs. She knew by saying that, she was admitting defeat, but it was too late now.

“Ah!” he exclaimed, and she heard him very close, as he was fast approaching. Her power walking kept her ahead, however, and she tried her best to ignore him. “So that is why you’re tryin’ to leave,” he laughed, suddenly a lot less tensed. “Don’t worry, mami, you still the finest hyna on the block.”

She all but punched him square across the face as she heard him chuckle behind her.

Asshole.

She cursed herself for letting the situation get the best of her like this. She knew very well he didn’t owe her anything, and that kind of reaction only made sense if they had agreed to some sort of exclusivity, which they had not. Still, with years of friendship behind them and what she thought was mutual respect they had between them, she felt entitled to a better treatment than that. Instead, he seemed to be taking far too much pleasure in knowing he had gotten under her skin. 

“Come oooon, don’t be like that,” he insisted, suddenly catching up to her like he’d been holding back until then, rounding his arm around her waist and stopping her dead in her tracks. She fought against his hold, but he was too strong, and she turned to face him, pure rage flashing on her features. 

“What do you want? Why don’t you just go back to your putas and leave me alone,” she spat, pushing against his chest. He let go of her, letting out a loud laugh as she fumed in front of him. 

“Chillout, mujer. It’s not that serious, right?” he replayed her words, smirking. If looks could kill, he would be dead, the way she stared him down like he was the most unpleasant thing to look at on the planet. 

Far from it, obviously.

“You don’t get it.” 

“Get what? That you’re mad? No, you’re right, I don’t.”

She cursed under her breath, shaking her head, more at herself than at him. Of course he wouldn’t get it. She had been a fool to think that having known him and cared for him all this time would change anything. He was still the same guy, and she wasn’t special. 

She wasn’t special enough to be the one he would be true to. 

“Forget it, then,” she sighed, feelings tears swell up. She bit at her cheek, trying to focus on other things. Not them, him, with his deep eyes and his sweet touch and everything about him that she knew but no one else did. They way he laughed, the way he smelled, the way he said her name, the way he hugged her when they said hello, the way he kissed her forehead when they said goodbye, the way his features softened at the sight of his brother…

She closed her eyes suddenly, hiding her face in embarrassment as she tried, in vain, to pull herself back together. His face dropped, filling with worry as he realized what was going on.

“Hey, hey, hey,” his voice reverberated like a whisper somewhere above her head. She had to keep looking down or he would see the tears, and he obviously already knew she was crying by now but she couldn’t bare the thought of him seeing her.  “Baby?”

His use of the nickname only made the tears double, and she tried to turn away but he had her locked in place in a second, like he already knew what she was about to do. His palms caressed her face as he tilted her head up, getting a full view of her wet cheeks and puffy eyes. He must think I’m quite a sight, she thought. Such a sexy alternative to whatsherface in the skirt. She averted her eyes, ashamed and annoyed.

“Look at me,” he asked, and she did, biting at her lips to try and control the tears. “What’s wrong, mami?”

He was surprisingly soft, like she knew he could be, and she enjoyed the feeling of his fingers by her temple, and the proximity of his body. He smelled of smoke, and some cologne he’d been wearing since forever that she loved. 

“Nothing, I’m s-sorry. Forget it, okay? I’m fine,” she lied, staring into his eyes with her best attempt at seeming genuine. She sniffed, swiping the tears away from her cheeks, trying to erase the damage.

“Stop lyin’ to me,” he insisted, and she sighed. 

“I’m not-”

“Yes, you are. Cut the bullshit, tell me what’s wrong,” he ordered, and despite the tone, she knew he meant it to be caring. 

She stayed silent, trying to steer away from all the things she wished to say but couldn’t, wouldn’t, and she knew would make her cry more. 

“Baby, it’s me,” he insisted. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“Not this,” she finally replied, wiping away a few more stray tears. What could she say, really? 

She couldn’t exactly let him know how she felt, what she wanted from him. She knew this had been a mistake, going from friends to whatever this was. Especially knowing how she felt about him. Telling him what was wrong meant never being able to be as close as before. It would ruin everything. 

“Just tell me.”

“No.”

“Just fucking say it.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Bullshit!” He was getting annoyed, speaking with a bit more vigor each time, but she wouldn’t let up. She took a few deep breaths, refusing to answer. “Is there something you want to tell me, nena?” he added, searching her eyes, and her heart sped up. 

It’s almost like he knew. 

Asshole.

She had grabbed the back of his neck and crashed her lips on his before she could really register it. All she knew is that she needed this, to have him to herself just one more minute.

He reciprocated in full force, meeting her with his soft, plump lips and slipping his tongue inside her mouth in a strong, efficient effort into taking control of the kiss. She fell into his arms, his hands going to her hair, both her arms around his neck. Electricity flew through her body as she let out a moan, heat rising in her face and between her legs. This is what she craved for. All the time. 

Letting go to catch some air, she let her stare wander across his face, taking in all the details of his features like this. Panting, flushed, looking at her with a desire she couldn’t get enough of. She pecked him on the lips one last time, and on the cheek, and stepped away before he could reach for her again. 

“Have a good night, Oscar.”

Her breathing was still erratic, and her hands trembled slightly as she took a few more steps away from him. He looked at a loss, his arms fallen on either side of him, deflated.

“You can’t be serious,” he said, his voice breaking slightly, just enough for her to notice. “What are you playing at?”

“I’m not playing.”

She left before he could witness the waterworks again, going from a strong walk to an all-out run as soon as he was out of sight. He called out to her, but she was too embarrassed to turn back. 

Everyone was right. This was just the worst idea. 

She should’ve known sleeping with the man she loved was a mistake.

What kind of game is that? 

[thegemmoon]

I had this dream, or maybe it wasn’t, perhaps I saw it in real life that always seemed like I was sleeping, but anyways, closer to the buisness:

I was at this tribute concert; you know, one of those which always make you cry with the tears of rage and misery. You’re angry at the people, for making money off someone’s heartbreak, you’re angry at yourself, because there you are, paying to get your heart shredded in yet more numerous pieces, you’re sad, because there’s a huge screen in the center of the room, and it shows you things unseen before.

People were crying all over the place, soaking the seats with their pity and memories because Freddie was shown to us on the huge screen, and he was standing in the rays of blinding white light with his arms strecthed like he was ready to hug us all gracefully. Twas a bit too much to my humble taste, yet here I was, soaking my own seat, because I’m a simple woman, I see Freddie Mercury, I weep a little.

The lights were perfect deep blue, and the sound was deep drumming, and God knows why we paid so much money to listen to his songs on big screen all together? To look at each other’s swollen faces? Did we hope that this time it would bring something back? My uncle was always kinda insidiously religious about it, clutching to his Bible and repeating that there would be a day when our dead would come back to us. I was always curious to know why he believed Freddie would return to him personally. Then I grew up and realized it was more of an urge.

He was singing The song, about living forever which, I remembered, after my first listening resulted for me in a breakdown and a tattoo on the wrist.

The things in this world I cannot take:

• that.

I turn away, swooshing my crying face through the polite darkness of the room, to hide myself in pretending I’m not looking, not weeping, not feeling, and look behind me. I examine people. They smile. They nod. They sway. There’s this one seat in the row behind me, the aisle one, which hadn’t been taken at the beginning of the show, but is now occupied. I look there just because my eyes fall in that direction.

He’s sitting there, leaned back comfortably, a wide yet shy smirk on his face, and looking around the room, just like me, examining the audience. He does noot look at the screen; he’s not keen on watching himself perform.

His eyes move, the white flashes shining in them, and his white jacket seems an abomination to the gentle mourning darkness. Then his glance falls on me, and that would be a minimazation to say I am not about to faint.

He smiles wider, mocking me with his sheepish look, eyes glistening, and his jaws move as if he’s thinking of a joke. His young face is soft, fed with the appreciation, satisfaction from what he’s witnessed. There’s just one thing. In a couple of seconds he seems to go from a relaxed position of an entitled spectator of us, to a stiff man, frowning half-seriously at me and the waterfall that is my face.

“CRYBABY”

He mouths, and suddenly I feel like the disgrace I am. I blink. You don’t know how hard it is, Fred, being born in this world, three years later.

He gets up, swaying like a dancer, like a ray of smoke, almost dispersing in the air, but I can see him leave the room. I just take it, whatever it is. I am not wise but I take it.

I can’t really see where I’m going, and I walk on people’s feet. Sorry. I am sorry. What a misfortune! You come to this place to watch this awfully sad piece of art, and get your feet stepped on as a bonus! What a hellish way to spend an evening!

Somehow I manage to get into the quiet hall, when the music hits the hardest. I liquify and emerge out, breathing deeply, like you always breathe, gulping oxygen, after you’ve cried.

He’s standing there, beautifully annoyed, American way, shifting his weight on his right leg. He’s lighting a cigarette. Whatever time he’s come back from, he is not aware that we do not smoke inside anymore, or maybe he doesn’t care.

“You can’t do that”, I say, as the bitter smoke enters me.

He shoots me an attentive glance.

“Darling. You seriously have to stop this”.

He motiones towards the thing that is me, like he usually does, painting an invisible circle in the air, while the cigarette burns in his fingers. I really am a crybaby, and have always been.

I run to him, crashing into his human body shamelessly, and grab him with my both hands for nobody but me can ever explain or understand this alien feeling of grief for him. I could not possibly tell anyone. He is patient, but he keeps smoking, because he knows. His voice is not hostile. It’s soft like one of the silk stripes I have for my hair.

“Are you back?”

I can hear his actual heart beat.

“Just for a minute”, he says, and pats me gently on the back. I realize he was going somewhere, because he sounds like a person who’s slightly confused at the absence of a bus on a bus station. I wonder if he’s seen his own statue while he was flying over Europe like some Christmas spirit.

His palm then rests on my shoulder the way my father’s hand never has. His fingers wrap my shoulder firmly, like he’s trying to give me all his tremendous strength.

I can hear the song end behind the closed doors, the sounds muffled and blunted by the wood. People applaud him.

“I’ll finish this one and go”.