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Imagines about On My Block characters and readers. I do not do personals; I believe the story should be for everyone to enjoy. I can also do real-world imagines. Example: Diego instead of Cesar. Jahking Guillory...
I giggle as Oscar pokes my sides again, happily whispering "Happy twentieth babygirl," into my ear.
"Thanks," I pause to look around at everything. "You know, you didn't have to do all of this for me," I smile, wrapping my arms around his neck.
"I really did, pollito. You mean the world to me, so I'll give you as much of it as I can."
I blush into his chest causing him to chuckle. He kissed my head and peeled me from his torso.
"Hey. I love you, you know that?" He had a finalized tone in his voice as he held my cheeks, searching my eyes for his answer. I raised an eyebrow and smiled.
"Yeah, I do. I love you too. Why're you saying it like that though?" I question.
Sometimes Oscar does things that puts his life in danger. He always tries to hide it from me so I don't worry about him or try to help -which he says is extremely dangerous- but I always find out and get upset or try to intervene.
He pauses for a moment, as if he were thinking about telling me. Contemplating on whether or not he should taint the night with the blood of the truth. He shakes his head, "No reason. Just wanted to let you know. You should never forget it," he smiled, playing it off.
Overwhelmed with the energy of the night, I let it go. "Okay," I tiptoe to reach his lips and connect them, enjoying their warmth.
He smiled into the kiss, reaching down and grabbing my butt. I yelp as he smiles into the kiss.
The room soon fills with the encouragement of the Santos and Cesar and his friends. Their hoots and howls causes Oscar to slap my butt and pull away with a chuckle.
"You want a drink, baby?" He asks.
At the thought, my stomach turns.
"No thanks," I smile. He goes to the kitchen to get himself a beer, probably.
I'm gonna tell him tonight. I have to; it's gonna show at some point. Besides, what better night than the night of my birthday.
He gets back and smiles at me, "You sure?" He gestures the drink toward me.
I nod. He shrugs and takes a gulp of the strong beer.
"Actually, baby, I have something to tell you," I mumble, becoming nervous. The blood of the truth can't be that bitter.
He puts the drink down and folds his arms. "What is it, princess?" Despite his comforting choice of word, his stance shows the thoughts that're going through his head.
"I-" Suddenly, the deafening sound of a car screeching is heard. Instinctively, Oscar pulls me into him, knowing I hate that noise. Shots were fired, Oscar pulls me to the ground, attempting to shield me from the deadly metal flying at high speeds through the air.
The car skrts away, leaving the chaos to unfold.
"Everybody alright?" Cesar asked the room of people. Shuffles and mutters of different variations of yes went around. I nodded, checking Oscar. I feel oddly lightheaded.
"Bab- Y/N!" He shouts, noticing the blood oozing out of the deep hole in my chest.
"What- Oh my God!" I shriek, just now seeing the wound.
"Somebody call the police!" Oscar barks, his eyes not leaving me.
"O-Oscar. What'm I gonna do? Look. There's a bullet. In. My. Chest," I freak out, as if he hadn't noticed - before I did, in fact.
"I-I know, baby. You're gonna be fine. You got this, alright? You didn't even notice it; you're strong, babygirl," He attempts to reassure me, but the wavering in his voice told me otherwise.
"Oscar, I can't- What if I-"
"Don't say that. Don't you dare say that. You're gonna be alright," He made an effort to halt his tears, in order to look strong.
Unnecessary.
He was already the strongest man in my eyes.
Granted, that may not be much longer.
Then I remembered. The baby.
I began to panic more, my heavy breathing mixing with the different cries in the room.
Then, before I could even try to stop it, darkness enveloped me.
Turns out, it wasn't the truth's blood that'd blight the beauty of the night. It'd be mine.
:::::
Oscar's POV
I sat in the waiting room, impatient and just wanting to go home with y/n.
I wish I could go back in time and fix everything. This is all my fault. I should've gotten her down quicker. I should've covered her. I should've -
"For y/f/n?" A doctor shouts.
The rest of the Santos, Cesar and his friends, and I bolted up, nearly bombarding the doctor. I noticed him stumble back, not expecting to be crowded.
He clears his throat, regaining his posture, "Y/n has suffered a bullet wound incredibly close to the heart. Initially, she passed out due to shock, but now we have reason to believe the bullet punctured the side of her heart, and blood wasn't flowing properly to her head. I'm sorry to tell you this, but Miss y/l/n is in a coma. We have to take her into surgery to remove the bullet and stitch the wound. There's nothing more we can do for ger, besides hook her into an IV. As for the babies, we - I'm so sorry - couldn't save them," doc finishes, a practiced face of pity displayed.
I was too in shock to say anything, so doc began walking away until Cesar stopped him,"Babies? What babies? With an s?"
Doc turns back around, clutching his clipboard.
"Y-Yes. She had three on the way; two girls and a boy, to be exact. Oh, you didn't- I gravely apologize. To you all," I roll my eyes at his choice of words, tears pricking at them.
A string of profanities trailed from my lips as I walked away and out the hospital, only Cesar following.
THIRD PERSON
As soon as he saw his little brother coming his way, he wiped stray tears and sniffled.
"Spook- Oscar," he called.
His older brother slowly turned towards him, unraveling under the waves of his voice.
"I... I had kids, Ces-ar," Oscar hiccuped. "Three. I was gonna be a dad. A husband. Have a family. You were gonna be an uncle. Now," his voice got hoarse,"that's not gonna happen."
He gulped down the lump in his throat.
Be strong, he told himself.
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"That's-That's not true, man. You can still have that," his younger brother tried to make things better, but nothing could do that.
Nothing could remove the stain that the blood of guilt left on Oscar's heart.
