bennie and the jets // gyro x reader

ballroom blitz

(y/n) had never busted her ass harder then when she was racing for the finish line. she had cut off so many poor losers out of sheer desperation, she almost felt bad. with her huge clydesdale horse towering over them it's a wonder they didnt piss their pants. speaking of pissing pants, she was almost certain she was going to piss hers in thoes last moments of this section of the race. if she was completely honest, she didnt really care much for actually winning this round ( or any round, for that matter). she just really had to take a piss. like really fucking bad. it's a wonder she had even managed to hold it in as long as she did. too much whiskey last night, she supposed.

after zipping up her fancy suit pants and sighing in relief, (y/n) ran straight into a tall ass board of a man. she was about to curse him out thoroughly until she recognized the smell. the smell of horse piss and cheese. yep, gyro zeppeli in the flesh was standing in front of her.

she flashed him a look of confusion as he loomed above her like a vulture. but he didnt say anything, and just stared for a minute. he looked pretty pissed off and maybe even disappointed, at what she wasnt sure. she raised an eyebrow ( a skill she was quite fond of ), and met his steady gaze by practically breaking her neck to look up.

"howdy?" she said in confusion, neck still in a 90 degree angle. he just grunted and leaned down, moving to look at something, presumably. by doing so, he was now closer to her face, a little uncomfortablely so. he wasnt really looking at her, but (y/n) was having a hard time paying attention when a decently attractive person was 3 inches from her face. she tried move her head away and down, but instead her face met the front of his chest. now she was rigid. and also, he felt a little stiff now, too. she wasnt sure why though, he wasnt the one with a face full of well sculpted man titty.

(y/n) was now very aware of every shift his body made above her and the thudding of his heart. was it supposed to be beating that fast? (y/n) wasnt sure, she'd never read a book on the human heart before.

"uh.." (y/n) muttered, not sure if she really liked this or not. she tried to back up, she really did, but he placed a hand on the small of her back and forced her back into him. she squirmed a bit, now uncomfortable. she literally met this man a couple days ago.

"bro, you good? listen, if you're horny or something im not here to help. riding through trees and over rocks gave me a sore cooch and there is no way-" she stopped. he was sniffing her hair now. wow, what a fucking weirdo. this isnt some kind of werewolf romance novel. (y/n) smacked the back of his stupid hat head in attempt to free herself.

"gyro, buddy, we met less then 3 days ago, get your greasy paws off of me-" he jerked away abruptly, as if finally hearing her. he looked a little flustered and couldnt figure out where to put his hands.

"uh, um.." gyro uttered, searching for the right words to explain himself.
(y/n) raised her eyebrow again, crossing her arms in an impatient matter.

"bro what the fuck was that? i know im one of the only girls here but you cant be that horny." (y/n) said, annoyance clear in her tone. truthfully, she was a little embarrassed by what gyro did ealier. he was way too close.

"you had some leaves in your hair, nyo ho ho?" he said in response, almost like he was confused with that answer himself. (y/n) looked at him incredulously, like he had just said quite possibly the most idiotic thing she had ever heard. which, he had, mind you.

"dude that makes no fucking sense. im all down for staring a sculpted man pecs but i do not need a face full of tit after taking an alcohol piss." she had a dead look in her eyes now, staring up at gyro's face with an expression of contempt.

"You think they're sculpted?"

"Bro."
___

Now back in her tent and ready to get a good rest before racing tomorrow, (y/n) was alone with her thoughts. the candle light was blown out and she lay in the dark, dressed down to her smalls and alone with her memories of gyro.

she thought of gyro, of his tall stature and pretty hair. She wanted to brush his hair, maybe... run her fingers through it? she pondered these thoughts, and how gyro has looked standing before her.

'so serious..'

she blushed alone and in the dark and flipped over onto her front to smother her blazing cheeks into her shitty travel pillow.

'this isn't like me at all! damn you gyro.'

she lay there for awhile, eyes clenched shut and desperately listening to the wild around her to try and drown out all thoughts of the man.

-

"congratulations!"

"what?"

"congrats!"

"yea i get that but why?"

sitting next to her on his horse at around 4 am the next day was diego fucking brando. and though he offered her words of congratulations, (y/n) had the strangest feeling that he wanted to grind her into a fine powder. that smile of his was not friendly.

he ignored her question and pointed twords where the starting line for that day of racing is.

"you should probably start heading over, right?"

"why would i do that? we don't have to leave for awhile now.."

he stared at her seriously for a second while she looked nothing if not confused. he furrowed his thick dumb british eyebrows at her for a second before landing on an expression. of what? anger? disgust? something like that.

"bro what's your fucking problem? why do you look like i pissed in your cereal?"

"are you taking the piss right now?"

"speak american please"

"are you fucking with me?"

"no...?"

unlike gyros anger, diego's just made (y/n) want to break his ankles.

"you won the fucking race yesterday, you get a 30 minute head start. are you dumb enough to forget that? fucking americans." he spat that last line with so much petrol that normally (y/n) would've laughed. except she was shocked dumb by what he said before that.

"I FUCKING WON?? I JUST NEEDED TO TAKE A PISS?!"

'so much for laying low..'