#dawg is louder than the engine !!!!!

[blessedboo]

Mama | Oscar Diaz.

Oscar Diaz x Reader

Summary: You’re pregnant. The announcement to Oscar doesn’t go so smoothly. 

Requested: Yes - “Hi I love your work so far! I was just wondering if it would be okay for you to write an Oscar Diaz imagine with the prompt #10 you’re going to be a dad? But change it up slightly by highlighting his fears of raising a son. Seeing as how it runs in his family for boys to join the gang. Sorry If it’s a strange request!! Much love x”  [Anonymous]

Prompt: Yes [My 150 Prompts] -

10. “You’re going to be a dad!”

Warnings: Angst to fluff. Pregnancy. 

Word Count: 1.9K

A/N: This prompt was on the FLUFF list, but we’re switching it up and going for an initial ANGST route. I’m trying to tackle these requests dawg, please forgive me for the delay. 

The quiet sound of plastic crashing against the bathroom floor amplified in your head. 

It felt as though time slowed and the rattle of the pregnancy test slowed with it. 

Thud. Thud. Thud. 

It was taunting you, a reminder that you had to tell Oscar sooner or later. It wasn’t abnormal for you and him to spend sleepless nights talking about the future.The possibility of marriage, owning a house and, of course, having a baby were ideas you aspired to. You two always bickered about the minor details of the life to come:

“Rustic? Really, baby? I was thinking modern and marble. Dream big, live bigger.”

“Fine, maybe five dogs and three cats are a little much. How about three dogs, two cats and a turtle to compensate?” 

However, if there was one thing you both agreed on, it was that you would wait until you had children. Specifically until you were both financially stable, married and far away from the dangers of Freeridge. Emphasis on far and away. 

That was the plan, a good one too. But you were taught that things don’t always go as planned, and you were now living that notion. 

Your sunken eyes stared into your reflection, worry etched into your tear-stained cheeks. The way-too-bright white light of the mirror’s bulb illuminated your concern mockingly. After a few sniffles of self-pity, you dabbed at the puffiness laying under your bottom lashes as you wiped away any residue. 

Your breaths were shaky, attempting to maneuver around the nail you were biting on while you paced back and forth. The atmosphere got hotter as the four surrounding walls seemed to close in on you, the floor swaying under your feet. It was too hot for comfort. Too hot. 

Sweat. Trickling. Wipe.

The tight space was suffocating, the lump in your throat felt larger than before. Tighter, tighter. Too tight. 

Breathe. Door. Open. 

You gripped onto the handle, gasping as the cool air of the hallway eased you into its soothing arms. Every ounce of panic, everything you over thought increased tenfold. Your mind ran laps intrusively. You were creating doubts you hadn’t considered and problems you didn’t want to face. You wanted to make it stop, but you didn’t know how. And the one person that could was the one person you hoped to avoid. At least for a little longer.

That was when you heard the door knob click, keys shifting in its place. Oscar’s here. You froze, cursing the universe for making your unspecified wish come true. 

“Shit. Shit. Shit!” You murmured under your breath. 

He barely got the chance to properly step into the house before you ran up to him.

Without thinking it through, your arms enveloped him into a hug. You let your heart grasp the solace it needed in that moment. Oscar was your safe haven, and in times of conflict, it was instinct for you to gravitate towards him and the comfort he provided. 

Using his own to reciprocate the embrace, they wrapped themselves around you like a warm blanket. You sighed, inhaling long and deep.

He placed a gentle kiss on your hair before taking your chin in between his thumb and index to tilt it upwards. 

“Hey—” He paused and took in the current state of your features. Your eyes were glossy, lids droopy, shoulders slumped. You embodied the definition of lackluster. That sweet smile, that infectious spark of energy he craved … It was missing, and he didn’t like that. “—¿Qué pasa?” 

“Oscar, do you love me?” You blurted out. 

He pulled back a little, eyebrows furrowing at the unexpected question. Thinking he misunderstood, he tilted his head. Your lips parted as you moved your hands to cup his face.

“As if you have to ask,” his lips curved into a half-smile. “Yes. Of course, Y/N. Why?”

You nodded, diverting your attention to anywhere other than the worry in his eyes. You took your hand in his as your fingers intertwined seamlessly. Your hands were clammy, and you knew he could feel the spots of dampness from the way his palm shifted at the feel of them. You anxiously led him to the couch and sat him down. 

The realization that this pregnancy could  either make or break your future together started to dawn on you. The thought of him leaving you had your stomach churning and your throat tightening. It wasn’t something you wanted to imagine, let alone become a reality. 

“I’m not going to beat around the bush. So, here it goes,” you breathed out in a tone that was almost unintelligible. “I-I’m … You’re …  Uh, me. Fuck,” you hissed. Your hand flew to your thigh to try to stop your leg from bouncing, but that only led to your nails lightly scratching the skin in repeated motions instead. 

“You, you. Youaregoingtobeadad,” you squeaked as your head dropped down.

Raising an eyebrow, he shook his head at you, unable to make out the incomprehensible jumble of word vomit that spewed out of your mouth. 

“A little louder, nena,” he squeezed your hand reassuringly. 

You gulped. “Oscar Diaz. You’re going to be a dad, mi amor.” 

His jaw slacked. Any muscles that worked to hold up a familiar, comforting expression fell. 

A canvas having its paint wiped away into a blank nothingness was the best way to describe the way he looked at you. The loving touch of his fingers around yours was replaced with emptiness as his limbs retracted closer towards his body, and farther away from yours. 

You couldn’t decipher the emotion that hid behind those eyes. There were no telltale signs he conveyed, no words either. You could hear the heavy rumble of your heart ringing through your ears, the thump of the drum eating at you in anticipation. 

“Say something, damn it!” You croaked in a voice so fragile, so brittle. You wanted—no, you needed—him to do something. You were vulnerable and overwhelmed, feeling as  though the force of a thousand stones weighed on your chest. You wanted him to hold you, console you, ease your anguish. Something. Anything. 

You hadn’t even taken notice of the tears welling up in your eyes until they trickled down your chin, black spots forming one by one on your gray sweater. 

He blinked stoically before looking away. His handsome features coldly hardened into a look of distaste as he shunned you. Your palm rushed to cover your mouth, miserably concealing the broken sputters and gasps; he couldn’t even look at you and it was soul-crushing. Every inch of him clenched with anger, from his fists to his teeth.  

Before you knew it, his heavy footsteps trailed a scorching path towards the door. The slam of the wood against the frame thundered, causing your sobs to pour out of you in a heave. 

As you swung the door back open, your clouded vision was met with a blurry, deformed sight of Oscar’s silhouette near the vibrant cherry red shape of his car. Rage roared within you through the depths of your core. 

You couldn’t believe him. 

After everything you two had been through, this was the moment he chose to leave. The only difference now was that he wasn’t just deserting you, but his unborn child too. 

“You said you loved me, you lying son of a bitch!” You bellowed. Completely distraught, you fell to your knees and continuously wept your disappointment, your ever-growing pain. 

And just like that, his engine revved as he took off into a destination unknown. 

—

Minutes felt like hours. Hours felt like days. Days felt like forever. Forever felt like a long time. 

In reality it was five hours. Five tiresome hours. Five too many, five too long. No calls, no messages, nothing. That went for you too, you did absolutely nothing except wallow in your melancholy. 

Wrapped in a blanket burrito, you cradled yourself into the fetal position as you clutched onto your stomach. You held onto your belly as if you were actually holding onto your child. But considering Oscar left, you might as well. 

Groaning, you rolled over and stretched before blankly staring at the ceiling. You paid attention to the gentle whirring of the fan above. Soon enough, the sight turned into a hallucination of a baby crib mobile instead. You envisioned what the life ahead would be like as a single mother - buying toys and cute clothes, breastfeeding, pre-school, all of it. 

You sighed, closing your eyes and smiling softly as you soothed your mind. Stroking your stomach, you whispered to the little creature: “Don’t worry, baby. We got this.”

“Yeah, we do.” 

Your eyes shot open as you sprang upright, your head darting towards the direction of the low, soft-spoken voice. In front of you, the man stood slightly hunched in the doorway. His demeanor was tense, yet seemingly weak. 

“Jesus Fucking Christ, Oscar!” 

The buttons of his shirt were now undone, a sleeve rolling down his shoulder. With a hand rubbing the nape of his neck, his lower lip trembled, eyes glossy and a little red. You had never seen him look so defeated. Whether it was guilt, fear or frustration, you didn’t know. But whatever it was, it clouded his entire being in that moment.

“Cariño, I’m so sorry,” he croaked. 

“Go away.” You started to blink back tears, the anger flooding back at the sight of him. 

He shook his head as he approached you, arms opening up as if to plead for your forgiveness. When he realized you weren’t going to accept his embrace, he distanced himself by sitting at the edge of the bed. Oscar sighed as his head dropped into his hands, mumbling words you couldn’t hear. 

“Y/N, I love you. I love you more than anything and anyone. I’ve never loved like that, and I haven’t been loved like that,” he gulped deeply. “Not until I met you.” 

You uncrossed your arms as you focused your gaze on the slow rise and fall of his back. 

“When … when I left earlier, I was scared. I didn’t think I was ready to be a father. Frankly, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. I will always have my doubts and fears, they follow me wherever I go. But with you, I won’t have to deal with them on my own.” He turned to face you, holding out a shaky hand for you to grasp onto.  

“Please,” he mouthed silently. You nodded, reluctantly taking his hand as he brought you closer to him. 

“I fucked up with Cesar by bringing him into all this gang shit. I brought an innocent kid into a life he didn’t deserve. I grew up having to be a father to a brother without ever being a son—”

“—But I’m not Ray. I’d never walk out on you, on us. On all of us,” his gentle fingertips caressed your belly as his lips curved into a loving smile. He looked up at you with such sincerity and pure adoration, as if an epiphany was hitting him right then and there. 

You were the mother of his  child, the woman he wanted to cherish for the rest of eternity. Nothing else mattered more than to be with you, his everything. 

You cupped his cheek as your foreheads connected, noses meeting at the tips. 

“I’m going to marry you, Y/N. I’m putting a ring on that finger and we are raising this family together. I’m going to be a good father, a better man than mine ever was. Lo prometo, mi vida,” he whispered, his thumb delicately tracing your cheek. “It’s you and me against the world, always.” 

“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” you murmured. 

“I can’t believe we made a baby,” he chuckled. Leaning forward, Oscar placed a sweet kiss on your soft lips. “Congrats, mama. We did it.” 

____________________________________________

Spanish translations - [Correct me if I’m wrong]

¿Qué pasa?  - What’s wrong? / What happened?

Nena - Baby. 

Mi amor - My love.

Cariño - Sweetheart.

Lo prometo, mi vida - I promise, my life (my everything/darling etc.)