Girlfriend Of The Enemy | Charles Leclerc

(x)

#2 — alexa chung on dev hynes' old flickr account, devleppard

you say good morning, when it's midnight ⟢ OP81 (part 2)

main masterlist | fic playlist | part 1

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: you and oscar grew up together, and despite being neighbors and best friends with her sister, hattie, you never really talked or had a conversation with him. until one day, where he randomly texted you out of nowhere.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: use of y/n, inaccurate information, fluff, timestamps are all irrelevant, a little bit of a slow burn, reader is a little bit ball of mess, weird, awkward, and unhinged, and minor typographical errors

WORD COUNT: none

AUTHOR'S NOTE: part 2! i know i have a few series that i need to update, but atm i don't have the drive or motivation to update it yet. writing narration sucks the whole energy out of me, but don't worry! i'll eventually update it, so pls bear with me. hope you'll enjoy this new update!

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taglist: @uuoozzii , @freyathehuntress , @littlemisskavities , @elieanana , @rexit-mo , @imagine-it-was-us, @satorinnie, @pessismisticpotato

Echoes of Broken Promises | OP81

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: Oscar faces a silence he can't escape, one filled with memories and unspoken words, leaving him to grapple with a past he can't forget.

Warning(s): Mild Language, angst, guilt, regret, kind of open ending.

"I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met."

Oscar Piastri sat at the press table, his usual calm demeanor in place as reporters fired off questions. The day’s pre-race interview was routine—at least, it was supposed to be.

The sun poured in through the large windows of the paddock, casting long shadows across the table and softening the tension in the air. The ambient noise of the bustling paddock outside barely reached them here, a stark contrast to the intensity of the moment.

Oscar’s answers were measured, polite, he was used to the interviews now, he tried to make his face as polite and as less expressive, as he could.

“So Oscar,” the interviewer began, her tone light, “we’ve recently heard around the paddock that you used to build karts with whatever you could find when you were little?”

Oscar laughed softly, a small chuckle escaping him as he nodded. “Oh yeah, I loved making karts. It was my favourite thing to do when I was young. I’d find some parts, and then me and y/n —” He stopped abruptly, his mind frozen on the name that was about to come out. He blinked, caught off guard, suddenly aware of the slip-up. The name.

Her name.

The one he hadn’t said in so long. The one he wasn’t ready to say.

For a beat, neither he nor the interviewer spoke. The room went oddly silent, the camera capturing the huge shift in Oscar’s expression.

The background chatter of journalists, the rustling of papers, the sound of clicking pens—all of it seemed to fade away.

It felt like the air thickened around him, each second stretching out longer than the last. A low hum of awareness seemed to reverberate in his ears, as if the room had suddenly become too small for all the feelings he’d kept buried.

As soon as the name left his lips, Oscar felt a wave of emotion surge through him. His breath caught in his throat. His heart hammered in his chest, a rapid, chaotic pulse that didn’t seem to belong to the calm and collected version of himself that everyone knew. He fought to regain control, but it wasn’t enough. The crack in his composure had been exposed.

The interviewer, caught off guard by the name, blinked at him in surprise. Her voice softened, a note of confusion creeping in.

“Y/N?” she asked cautiously, her eyes narrowing as if trying to process the sudden shift in Oscar’s demeanor.

The air around them grew heavier, and it was as if the entire room leaned in, sensing that something deeper was unfolding.

Oscar’s face froze. He realized what had just happened, his mind scrambling to regain control. The name was out there, hanging in the air between them, and suddenly, it felt like the room was closing in on him.

Y/N.

His childhood friend, the one person who had always been there. The one person he hadn’t spoken to fo so long. The one person he hadn’t let himself think about in so long. She was more than just a name now—she was a weight, an entire chapter of his life that he had long since buried. Or had tried to, at least.

For a moment, Oscar couldn’t speak. The weight of the memory, the loss, it was all too much. His usual polished exterior cracked, just slightly, and his eyes seemed to lose focus.

He blinked, but it didn’t help.

It was as if the world around him had blurred, and all he could see were flashes—images from his past, fragments of a time before everything became… complicated.

The interviewer leaned in a little, her voice unsure now. “Is… is Y/N someone important to you? A friend, perhaps?” she asked, a touch of empathy in her voice, but the question felt too intrusive, like she was pushing into a place Oscar wasn’t ready to go. The room had shifted, and suddenly, this wasn’t just about a race. This wasn’t just about Oscar as a driver. It was about something much more personal.

Oscar blinked rapidly, as if trying to clear the fog from his mind. He swallowed, his throat dry. “Yeah… she was a friend,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. The sentence sounded so final, like he was cutting something off, like he was slamming a door in front of everything that came before. But the ache in his chest grew stronger the more he tried to distance himself from the memory. The words felt like a surrender, like admitting he had no power over the way his past was creeping back up on him.

The interviewer, sensing his discomfort, didn’t back off. “What happened between you two? Did you two just… grow apart?”

Oscar felt the prickle of tension rising in his shoulders. He was a man of few words, preferring to keep things professional, to keep everything on the surface. But this was different. This was personal, and he didn’t want to go there.

Not here. Not now.

His jaw tightened, and the muscles in his neck stiffened.

“Uh…” He faltered, the words failing him. He glanced to the side, his mind briefly racing for an escape. It was all too much. The questions, the memories. He wasn’t prepared for this.

Lando Norris, who had been standing nearby, his arms folded and leaning casually against the wall, had been quietly observing the interview. He had been listening, half-smiling at Oscar’s nostalgic recounting of his childhood, but when Oscar had slipped and mentioned Y/N, something changed in his expression. Lando’s sharp eyes caught the shift in Oscar’s demeanor before anyone else did—the way his teammate’s face lost its usual warmth, the way his smile faltered. It was subtle, but Lando knew.

He could see it in the way Oscar’s gaze turned inward, distant, as if he were no longer sitting there in front of the press. Lando knew this was more than just a slip of the tongue.

He knew the name Y/N meant more than Oscar was willing to admit.

Without missing a beat, Lando stepped forward, his tone casual but with a subtle urgency. “Hey, Oscar,” Lando called out, a hint of playfulness in his voice. “I think I saw the engineers needing you for a quick debrief. You’re gonna want to check on that tire data.”

Oscar blinked, shaken out of his reverie.

His eyes focused again, and he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. But it was clear to Lando that he wasn’t okay. Not even close. Oscar's jaw was tight, his face pale, and his hand trembled slightly as it rested on the table.

Oscar’s gaze flickered back to the interviewer, his eyes still distant, as if he were seeing her through a fog. “Right, I think you’re right, Lando. I’ll—”

Lando gently but firmly placed a hand on Oscar’s shoulder, giving him a small, encouraging squeeze. He smiled brightly at the interviewer, trying to steer the conversation away from the uncomfortable path it had taken. “Sorry, folks, but we’ve gotta get going. Oscar’s needed elsewhere,” Lando said smoothly, flashing a grin that was both disarming and purposeful.

The interviewer hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to push further or to let it go. But the mood in the room had shifted.

The once-easy atmosphere had become thick with an unspoken understanding. Oscar had stepped back, pulling away from the question with Lando's help, but the damage was done. The name Y/N had made its mark, and now it lingered like a shadow over the interview.

As Lando guided Oscar away from the press table, the weight of the moment still hung in the air. Oscar didn’t look back, his eyes focused straight ahead, but Lando could feel the tension radiating from him.

Oscar was lost in his thoughts, in that fleeting moment where the past and present collided. Lando knew his teammate well enough to understand that this was more than just a brief memory—it was a raw, unfinished chapter that Oscar wasn’t ready to face in front of the world.

The doors to the press room closed softly behind them, and the noise of the paddock rushed back in. But inside, Oscar was still somewhere far away, lost in the ghosts of his past. And Lando knew it would take time for him to come back to the present.

But for now, all Lando could do was walk beside him, offering his presence, a silent promise that Oscar wouldn’t have to face this alone.

_____________________________________

The moment the interview aired, it sent shockwaves through the F1 community. Fans were left bewildered, glued to their screens, as Oscar’s unexpected mention of Y/N stirred up more questions than answers. His sudden change in demeanor, the way his face fell, and the clear discomfort that followed, sent ripples of concern through the fanbase.

The uproar didn’t die down. In fact, it only intensified. As fans began to analyze every second of the interview, the mention of Y/N became the subject of endless speculation.

The hashtag #OperationFindOscarsYN took off like wildfire, with fans dedicating themselves to figuring out who Y/N was, what happened between them, and, most importantly, making sure Oscar was okay. It was as though the entire F1 fanbase had collectively decided to take matters into their own hands.

Twitter exploded with comments:

@SpeedJunkie94: “Okay, I’m officially joining #OperationFindOscarsYN. There’s something more to this than just a slip of the tongue. We need answers, people.”

@F1MysterySolver: “It’s time. We’re piecing this together. Who is Y/N? Oscar’s clearly struggling with something and we’re going to find out what happened.”

@PiastriFan93: “The way Oscar’s face changed… something’s up. We NEED to get to the bottom of this. OperationFindOscarsYN is ON.”

@Lando4Life: “Lando stepping in like that was so sweet, but I’m worried about Oscar. This can’t be ignored. We’re going to get to the bottom of it. #OperationFindOscarsYN #TeamPiastriSupport”

As the hashtag spread, fans began digging. Some scoured old karting photos, pulling out any hint of a person named Y/N, while others began tracing any mention of her in interviews, articles, and past social media posts. Forums and subreddits became flooded with theories, each fan convinced that they were the ones who would crack the case.

Reddit Thread Title: Has anyone else noticed Oscar’s reaction when he said Y/N’s name? We NEED to find out who this is.

Comments:

@KartingPro88: “I found an old interview from when Oscar was 13. He mentioned racing with someone named Y/N. Could this be her? He was super close to her back then, but I haven’t seen her mentioned since...”

@F1Whispers: “Guys, I’ve been digging through some old Instagram accounts and I found a picture of Oscar with someone who fits the timeline of when he used to race karts. It’s a long shot, but it could be her. I’m going to send it out now.”

The internet was buzzing. People who had once been indifferent to Oscar’s private life were now combing through his past, desperate to connect the dots.

Instagram was no different:

@OscarPiastriOfficialFanPage posted a video clip of the interview with a caption that read: “What happened here? Oscar seemed so emotional after saying Y/N’s name. If you know anything about Y/N, comment below. We’re all in this together. #OperationFindOscarsYN”

Fans began tagging Oscar’s previous teammates, his family, anyone who might know more. Some of them were serious. Others, a bit more comical.

@MaxVerstappenWorld: “Okay, so we’re all worried about Oscar, but can we please not bombard him with questions right now? #OperationFindOscarsYN can be paused for now. But seriously, Oscar’s well-being comes first.”

@YukiTsunodaFan: “I’m just here for the drama, but I seriously hope Oscar’s okay. Whatever happened with Y/N, he doesn’t seem fine.”

The fans’ determination only grew stronger as they pieced together more details. Every person who followed Oscar closely began to feel like they were part of a giant puzzle, trying to solve the mystery of the man who had always kept a stoic mask on.

The question everyone wanted answered now wasn’t just about Y/N. It was about why Oscar was so visibly shaken by the memory.

Was it a bad breakup? A falling out with a close friend? Or maybe something more painful that he had never shared with anyone?

Oscar hadn’t commented, but the flood of fan support, mixed with a rising tide of concern, was undeniable.

They wanted to know who Y/N was for all the right reasons—because, deep down, they wanted to help Oscar heal. They didn’t just want to uncover the mystery—they wanted to make sure he was okay.

_______________________________________

Oscar stood by the swings, his hands nervously clasped behind his back. He was always the quiet kid, content to watch the others play, unsure how to join in. The sun shone brightly on the playground, but Oscar felt a little out of place, his feet shuffling against the sand.

It was during this moment of quiet observation that she appeared, like a burst of sunlight in a grey world.

A girl, with wild, untamed hair and bright, curious eyes, skipped up to him with a big grin. “Hey! I’m Y/N!” she said enthusiastically, offering her hand without hesitation.

Oscar blinked in surprise. He had never seen someone so confident, someone so willing to step into his world. But before he could say anything, she was already talking again, “Do you want to play with me? We can build a fort or something!”

Oscar stood there, unsure, and then something inside him clicked. She wasn’t just talking to him—she wanted to spend time with him. She wanted him to be part of her world.

A tentative smile crept onto his face, and he slowly nodded, taking her hand. “Okay, I guess so.”

"But the sand is very slippery because Billy poured all of his water on it, so make sure to hold my hand tight, okay?" Y/N asked.

Oscar's grip to her hand tightened. "I'll hold your hand, promise"

From that moment, they were inseparable.

"I promise that I'll always be there to hold your hand"

______________________________________

It was a typical Saturday afternoon, and the two of them were at Oscar’s house, lying on the living room floor, watching TV. Oscar’s mum, Nicole, was preparing dinner in the kitchen, but the two kids were caught up in the wedding scene playing out on the screen. A bride in a white dress stood beside a groom, both holding hands with smiles that seemed to light up the entire room.

“Why are they getting married?” young Oscar asked, furrowing his brow as he stared at the screen.

Nicole, busy stirring the pot on the stove, glanced over and smiled. “Because they love each other, Oscar. They want to spend their whole lives together with the person who means the most to them.”

Oscar’s heart skipped a beat, and without thinking, he turned to Y/N, his eyes wide with a sudden thought. His small hand reached out to hers, his fingers brushing against her skin. “I’m going to marry you one day, Y/N,” he declared, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he even realized their weight.

Nicole gasped, and Y/N’s eyes widened. “You’re gonna marry me?” she asked, blinking in surprise. But then, without missing a beat, she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek, making Oscar’s heart flutter. “Okay! I’ll marry you too, Oscar!”

Oscar’s face turned bright red, but his heart swelled with joy. That simple kiss, that innocent gesture, made him feel like the luckiest boy alive. In that moment, Oscar truly believed that nothing could ever change between them. They were meant to be together.

"I promise to grow old with you"

____________________________________

The day had finally come, and Oscar stood with his bags packed, ready to leave. His parents were with him, standing by his side, but Oscar’s eyes were focused on one person: Y/N. She was standing there, her back straight but her face betraying the sadness she was trying to hide.

Oscar walked up to her slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. “I’m really going, Y/N,” he whispered, feeling the lump in his throat tighten. His eyes searched hers for any sign of the bond they once had.

Y/N’s eyes welled with tears, and she blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. “I know, Oscar... I know.” Her voice trembled, the words barely coming out. “But... don’t forget about me, okay?”

Oscar could feel his heart breaking, but he took a deep breath and promised her, “I won’t. I’ll write to you. I’ll never forget you, I swear.”

Y/N nodded, but her lips trembled. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he said, locking his eyes with hers, the sincerity in his voice clear.

“I’ promise to always be there for you"

They hugged then, long and tight, and for a moment, it felt like nothing could break them apart. But as the airport loudspeaker blared, calling for the final boarding of his flight, the moment shattered.

Oscar pulled away, his hand brushing against her cheek as he looked down at her one last time. “I’ll come back. And we’ll keep in touch"

She nodded, but the sadness in her eyes told him she didn’t quite believe it. With one last lingering look, Oscar turned, walking toward the gate, his heart heavy in his chest.

As he boarded the plane and looked out the window, he saw her standing there, her face a blur of tears and hope. The image of her, her figure fading in the distance, was burned into his memory, and he promised himself that he would carry that moment with him forever.

"I will always remember you"

______________________________________

Years had passed. Oscar had gone on to become a Formula 1 driver, living the life he had always dreamed of. The world had become his oyster, with fans and teammates praising him. But something was missing. Something he couldn’t quite place.

It was during a brief visit back to Australia when Oscar had been walking to a local cafe and just as he rounded the corner, he bumped into someone.

“Ouch! Sorry!” Oscar quickly apologized, but his voice trailed off as his eyes locked onto hers.

“Y/N?” Oscar asked, unable to believe it.

She blinked, her face lighting up with shock, and in that moment, it was as though no time had passed. She looked older, more mature, but still the same Y/N he had known all those years ago.

“Oscar?” Her voice cracked slightly, disbelief clear in her expression.

They stood there for a moment, both unsure of what to say, before Oscar spoke up. “It’s really you... after all these years.” He smiled, a little nervous, but his heart skipped a beat when he saw the familiar twinkle in her eyes.

The silence stretched between them, awkward at first, but it didn’t take long for Oscar to ask, “Do you want to grab a coffee? Catch up?”

They sat across from each other, the air between them thick with unspoken words. They talked about their lives, their achievements, their struggles. But no matter how much they tried, it was impossible to ignore the distance between them, the things left unsaid.

After a while, Oscar grew frustrated. “Why does it feel like... we’re not the same anymore?” His voice was soft, but there was an underlying hurt there that he couldn’t mask.

Y/N looked down at her coffee, her fingers nervously tracing the rim of her cup. She took a deep breath before finally meeting his gaze. Her voice was almost a whisper when she replied, “Because silence created by broken promises can never be filled with words, Oscar”

Oscar’s heart stopped. The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He had made promises to her, and now, here she was, telling him that silence—his silence—had destroyed them.

She stood up, grabbing her bag, and looked at him one last time. “Goodbye, Oscar.” And with that, she walked away, leaving him sitting there, frozen in place, feeling like he was suffocating.

Oscar had tried to contact her after that day. He reached out, sending messages, emails, trying to find her again, but it was like she had vanished into thin air. He went constantly to the same cafe, hoping that she would show up there, and maybe he could stop her, and convince her to talk to him.

Convince her to give him another chance. A chance he knew that he didn't deserve.

The guilt gnawed at him. He had broken his promises. He had let her go without even realizing it. And now, all he had were the broken pieces of a friendship, a relationship, and a past that seemed so distant, so unreachable.

And in that cafe once again, sitting alone with his coffee, Oscar realized the truth: it wasn’t just the promises he had broken—it was her. She had been the one thing in his life that had always been constant, and now, she was gone.

"I promise to keep on loving you, no matter what"

________________________________________

The night had fallen over the paddock, but the buzz from the race still lingered in the air. Oscar and Lando had just secured their spots on the podium—Lando in first, Oscar in second.

The team was celebrating, everyone basking in the euphoria of a hard-fought victory. But amidst the cheers and laughter, Oscar felt a heaviness settle deep in his chest. It was supposed to be a time of celebration, but something, someone, was missing.

Lando had pulled him away from the party, leading him to a quieter corner of the paddock. The loud music faded into the background as they settled down with drinks in hand. Oscar had already had more than enough to drink, the alcohol flowing freely through his veins. But it didn’t numb the ache inside him. If anything, it made it worse.

“You know,” Lando said, his tone unusually soft, “you should be enjoying this. You’re on the podium with me, mate. This is a big moment.”

Oscar half-smiled, his head tilted back as he stared at the stars above. “I know,” he mumbled, his voice low, barely audible over the noise of the celebration behind them. “But it doesn’t feel... right.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly. “What do you mean? We’ve been through this. It’s a huge achievement. You earned it.”

Oscar let out a bitter chuckle, his fingers tightening around his drink. “Yeah... but you’re not the one carrying this weight.” He looked at Lando then, his eyes dark, haunted. “There’s something else on my mind. Someone.”

Lando didn’t need to ask who. He could see it in Oscar’s eyes, the way the energy drained out of him the moment he mentioned it.

“Y/N,” Lando guessed, his voice quieter now. He didn’t push, but Oscar’s silence was answer enough.

Oscar’s gaze dropped to the floor, the words tumbling out of him before he could stop them. “It was her, Lando. She... she was the one. The girl I loved.” He paused, as if the weight of it was too much to bear. “The girl I still love. Why am I trying to kid myself? I still think about her every.damn.day.”

Lando’s heart sank, and for the first time, he saw Oscar not as the confident, driven teammate he admired, but as a man who had been carrying the scars of the past for far too long. He leaned forward, placing a hand on Oscar’s shoulder. “You deserve to be happy, Oscar,” he said quietly, his voice full of empathy. “You’ve worked so hard for this. You’ve earned it.”

Oscar’s eyes met his, and for a brief moment, Lando saw the deep sadness in them. “No. No, I don’t deserve her, Lando.” His voice cracked slightly, and he took a long drink, his hands trembling slightly. “I hurt her... I broke promises. She trusted me, and I let her go. I was so caught up in everything... racing, fame, success... and she... she faded away. And now? Now, I’m just a guy who doesn’t even know how to fix what I broke.”

Lando sat in silence, his heart aching for his younger teammate. He had always known Oscar was a bit of an enigma, but this... this raw vulnerability hit him harder than he expected. Oscar wasn’t just lost in the world of racing. He was lost in his own regrets, in a past that had shaped him but also broken him.

“I don’t know what to do, Lando,” Oscar said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I keep trying to convince myself that I’m okay, that this—this life—is enough. But every time I close my eyes, all I see is her face. All I feel is the guilt. She was the best part of me, and now... I can’t even reach her anymore. She’s gone. And it’s my fault.”

Lando’s throat tightened, and he wanted to say something to make it better, to fix it, but he knew he couldn’t. There were no easy answers, no quick fixes for something like this. He only had his friendship to offer, and the deep sorrow that weighed down on him as he watched Oscar crumble under the weight of his own heartache.

“You’re not a bad person, Oscar,” Lando finally said, his voice thick with emotion. “We all make mistakes. But... sometimes you’ve gotta let go of the past. You can’t change what happened. But you can learn from it. And if she really meant that much to you, maybe it’s not too late. Maybe there’s a chance...”

Oscar shook his head, the alcohol in his system starting to cloud his thoughts even more. “It’s too late for that,” he said softly, his words heavy. “She’s gone. I’ll never be able to fix it.”

Lando could feel the weight of Oscar’s pain, and in that moment, he realized how much his younger teammate had truly suffered. It wasn’t just the loss of a relationship—it was the loss of a part of himself.

The two sat in silence for a while, the noise of the celebration fading into the background. Oscar’s eyes were distant, his mind caught in a place he couldn’t escape from. And as much as Lando wanted to help, there was nothing he could do to take away the guilt and regret that had haunted Oscar for so long.

When the silence finally stretched too long, Lando stood, clapping a hand on Oscar’s shoulder. “You’ll get through this,” he said softly, trying to offer some comfort, but knowing it wouldn’t be enough.

Oscar nodded slowly, a sad smile playing on his lips. “I don’t know, Lando. I really don’t.”

And with that, Lando left him there, standing alone in the quiet of the night. The sound of the celebrations continued behind them, but Oscar didn’t feel part of it.

He felt like an outsider in his own life, caught between the past he couldn’t change and the future that seemed uncertain without her in it.

And as he sat there, drowning in his thoughts, he realized that no matter how many victories he had, no matter how many podiums he climbed, there would always be a part of him that would be lost without her.

____________________________________

Later that night, after the race and the celebrations had faded into the background, Oscar lay in his hotel room, exhausted. His body ached, and his head felt fuzzy from the drinks Lando had insisted on—just a few, to celebrate, he said. But it wasn’t the race or the alcohol that kept Oscar awake. It was the same thing that had been on his mind for so long now: Y/N.

Lando had been relentless in trying to cheer him up. But as the night wore on, Oscar couldn’t escape the weight of his past—the guilt, the broken promises. He felt emotionally wrung out. Every laugh with Lando, every casual word, only reminded him of how far he’d fallen from the person he once was. How far he was from the girl he once loved.

He pulled out his phone, hoping for some distraction. The screen lit up with a new message from Lando.

Lando has sent you a link

Lando has sent you a link

Lando: Hey mate, you might want to check this out. Fans are seriously going after Y/N for you. They think they might actually find her this time. It’s crazy. They're rooting for you. Don't give up yet.

Oscar’s chest tightened, but he pushed the thoughts aside, willing himself to focus on something—anything—else. His eyes lingered on the screen, and then another notification popped up.

It was from Instagram. He stared at it blankly for a moment, his heart skipping a beat. He would recognize that face in the profile picture anywhere.

"Y/N L/N ✅ wants to follow you"

________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

I tried to end it in a sad ending but I don't think I have that courage in me, especially for Oscar.

If you like this, please leave a like, comment and reblog.

Jules♡

secret admirers ★ jackieshauna x fem!reader

jackie learns she's not the only one with a hopeless crush on you

warnings: jackieshauna being girlfails (what's new??)

word count: 1350

a/n: based on the lake scene from s1 bc they both look so fucking good omg

jackie lies comfortably on a towel on the rocky shore of the lake.  mari is talking to her about... something, but it's all been a blur since you pulled your shirt over your head and carelessly threw it beside her.

her eyes feast on the curves of your body as you step further into the lake, your mismatch brown bra and pink underwear the only fabrics covering your body.  she feels like a perv for looking so intently, but she can't help but notice how low the waistband of your panties sits on your hips and the slight flexion of your toned thighs with each step you take deeper into the water.

she could watch you for hours, she thinks, leaning back onto her elbow.  her eyes follow you as you prance over to lottie and dunk your head under the surface.  when you emerge, throwing your hair behind you and slicking it back with your hands, jackie forgets how to breathe.  she thinks that wrapping her arms around you from behind and leaving wet kisses on your shoulder might save her.

jackie is pulled from her fantasies when she catches shauna in her line of sight a few yards farther out than you.  although it appeared at first glance that shauna was looking at her, jackie soon notices shauna's eyes lingering on you.

shauna looks so focused, like you're some kind of animal she's studying and she's thinking long and hard about what to do with you next.  she barely moves at all as she watches you, one of her brows furrowed in concentration and her lips tightly pressed together.  when you spin in a circle, splashing and giggling, her lips barely part and jackie barely catches it.  her big brown eyes seem to grow even bigger and, if jackie was closer, she would see shauna's pupils dilating.

jackie's confused for a moment.  she knows that look in shauna's eyes.  it means shauna hates you.  or she...

"fuck," jackie mumbles under her breath.

"what was that?" mari asks, confused.

"oh, nothing," jackie reassures her with the nonchalant wave of her hand.  she looks over at mari for a second before she continues and jackie's eyes immediately return to the situation in front of her.

shauna likes you.  in the same way that she likes you.

she feels so stupid.  how could she not have realized this earlier?

jackie had been harboring her crush on you for a while, but only confessed it to shauna a month ago when she just couldn't hold it in any longer.  she was terrified of shauna's reaction, but after the words left jackie's lips like word vomit, all shauna could say was "oh."

at the time, jackie just thought shauna was surprised by the fact jackie liked girls, but now, that "oh" had a completely different meaning.  now, when jackie replayed the moment in her head, shauna's "oh" sounded less shocked and more disappointed.  how long had shauna been crushing on you?  and why hadn't shauna told her?

all the times she had seen the two of you together came rushing back to jackie, from the deep conversations at parties where your thighs pressed together on the couch, to walking into the locker room together with shoulders bumping.  it was no coincidence that every time you weren't by her side, you were with shauna.

she remembers watching the two of you from across the room and seeing shauna's barely evident smile every time you laughed.  jackie just thought she was being nice.

she remembers rambling to shauna about you and all your cute little quirks.  she remembers how uncomfortable and stiff shauna had been as soon as your name was mentioned.  like she had something to hide.

that fucking bitch, jackie thinks, glaring daggers through shauna's face.  you were hers.   shauna should know that better than anyone.  but jackie did know that shauna liked to steal things right out from under her.  apparently you were no different.

shauna, feeling eyes on her, lets her own eyes stray from you and finds jackie already staring at her.

knowing jackie like the back of her hand, shauna instantly knows she's caught.  the frown on jackie's face is unmistakable and anger pours out of her hooded eyes.

"fuck," shauna whispers to herself, immediately closing her parted lips.  jackie looks like she's going to eat her alive and shauna has no response other than looking slightly ashamed.

but it's not her fault that you're...you, she thinks.  it's not her fault that your smile lights up a room and that her skin burns wherever you touch her.  you're not a want, but an insatiable need.

shauna knows jackie feels the same thing.  after all, jackie's crush on you was so much more obvious than shauna's.  jackie was always touching you, whether it was bumping her hip against yours to get your attention or clutching onto your arm anywhere and everywhere.  jackie always laughed extra hard at your jokes and wore a stupid smile all day when you complimented her.  she was basically throwing herself at you, so much so that some of the other girls had started to notice; shauna observed the way they exchanged glances when jackie praised you a little too much to be friendly.  it was a wonder you didn't know yet.

on the other hand, shauna liked to applaud herself for being more subtle and perhaps more intellectual than jackie.  she gazed at you from across the room unbeknownst you, admiring each of your little habits.  she saved you a seat at team dinners and remembered your favorite drink to buy it for you after practice.  she overheard you talking to tai about a movie you wanted to see and then casually asked if you wanted to go watch it with her that friday night, trying to act surprised by your excitement.

that was another thing: jackie always raved to shauna about the one-on-one time she spent with you, whether it was study dates or midnight snacks at the local diner.  it made shauna's stomach bubble with jealousy.

on the other hand, shauna was secretive about the time the two of you spent together.

shauna quietly wondered if you looked up from your notebook at jackie the same way you glanced at her at the movies.  or if your hand brushed jackie's over the diner table the same way your fingers grazed hers on the armrest.

if only jackie hadn't complicated things by telling shauna about her little massive crush on you.  jackie was never one to make things simple for shauna.

shauna knows jackie wants to keep her subdued, always lurking in her shadow.  so whether consciously or subconsciously, jackie's crush on you is another way for jackie to assert her dominance in their friendship.

because shauna was crushing on you first, right? so technically, you were hers first.

or did jackie's crush come first?  the timeline is unclear.

their staring contest ends when shauna turns her back on jackie, feeling too small under her gaze.  shauna looks toward the horizon for a moment before she sneaks another glance at you.

jackie's hands dig into the sand, grasping at the grains with pure frustration.  she eases slightly when she finds you peacefully floating on your back, completely oblivious to the tension between your two admirers.

it was almost pathetic how they each laid claim to you in their own heads, but neither had the courage to show their feelings in a way that wasn't playful flirting or longing gazes.  so both watched on, savoring you with their eyes.

they each secretly hoped for reassurance.  a sign of some sort that you wanted them too.  that's all it would take before they were muffling your words with a kiss and throwing themselves at your feet.

but now things were more complicated: who exactly did you want?

can you guys tell that all i want is for hot girls to be obsessed w me

hayden anhedonia, angel diaz of vyva melinkolya on vibraphone, and ryan brewer of good night and good morning on guitar

much to think about on a night like this...

how it feels the first time you realise your favourite driver is probably a terrible person:

Zinh's GFM can be found here if you want to support her family during this nightmare

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