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#marco peña x you
beskarandblasters · 1 year
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So I’m currently working on a part two to Tolerate It (you can read that here hehe) but I think after I finish that I want to start writing for Joel and some other Pedro characters?!?!?!!
I’ll still be taking Din requests (like helloooo Domestic Din👀) but I would love some Joel, Javi P and Frankie requests 👀👀👀
Thank you my loves 💕💕
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xoxoavenger · 10 months
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1989 Masterlist
happy 1989 baby
back to main masterlist taglist
Welcome To New York - Peter Parker x Fem!Reader
Blank Space - Loki x Fem!Reader
Style - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Out Of The Woods - Derek Hale x Fem!Reader
All You Had To Do Was Stay - ineffable husbands (good omens)
Shake It Off - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (coming soon)
I Wish You Woud - JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
Bad Blood - Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader
Wildest Dreams - Marco Peña x Fem!Reader
How You Get The Girl - Pope Heyward x Fem!Reader
This Love - TBA
I Know Places - Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader
Clean - Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
Wonderland - TBA
You Are In Love - Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
New Romantics - Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader (coming soon)
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eusuntgratie · 2 months
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different banner bc this one is just a bunch of lines from my various wips that i've poked at recently. i tried to actually write and it didn't go well but i am rotating all my blorbos like rotisserie chickens in my mind palace which i'm sure will eventually bear fruit. enjoy some random sentences!
i wanna be adored (elliott lefevre from chambers x marco peña from kissing booth 2 & 3)
Marco tries to catch Elliott’s eye. He’s honestly not sure if he’s drunk or if he just wants everyone to think he is.
mechanic alex (firstprince) this one is so close to being done please sir can i have some spoons 🙏
“Oh,” Henry whispers. “You beautiful slut. Look at you.” 
taylor pov of the second half of chapter 3 of disaster (taynick) i'm thinking i'll throw disaster in a series and post some ficlets, taylor pov, etc when inspo strikes (aka when jon gives me brainworms)
A buzzing sound from Nick’s nightstand jerks Taylor’s thoughts away from all the things he could do to get Nick to make more of those delicious noises.
untitled raf/alex (what is says on the tin. i'm FERAL for these two)
“I’ve got you,” Raf tells him, stroking a thumb over his cheek.
ryliver villa fic
“You fucking slut,” Oliver growls right into his ear. “You could barely tear your eyes off of me long enough to tell her how pretty she is, could you?”
i know you can't ignore me (another taynick fic)
Taylor’s not sure if Nick spent all night fighting off memories of the night they spent together, but he certainly did.
i'm always happy to chat about any of my wips! feel free to poke me - maybe some words will fall out! open tag + some no pressure tags under the cut.
i'm scheduling for midnight my time so if you beat me somehow i'm sorry! i'll hopefully be snoozin'!
tagging @bigassbowlingballhead @oxfordslutphase @lostcol @winderlylandchime @taste-thewaste
@dreamsinthewitchouse @basil-bird @sheepywritesfics @agostobuwan @ninzied
@hgejfmw-hgejhsf @thinkof-england @wordsofhoneydew @happiness-of-the-pursuit @cactusdragon517
@violetbaudelaire-quagmire @dragonflylady77 @cha-melodius @heysweetheart-writes @captainjunglegym
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mariamariquinha · 1 year
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Versos de Placer (Colonel Carrillo x f!reader) - Twelve
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Summary: Javier thought, brutally honest: the fuck you think you’re kidding?
Word count: 6.9k
Warnings: Brief allusion to sex, dead bodies (kinda gore), violence, torture, angst, feeling of inadequacy, people smoking, gun mention and... cop work? 🤷‍♀️
Author’s Note: In the middle of a lot of shitty things, I was able to finish editing. Am I happy with this? Maybe. I know that at some point I looked at what I was doing and liked it, so I decided to not change my mind because I’m not that reliable these days - when it comes to accept by achievements. There’s a few political comments, mostly my opinion, so beforehand I warn: I hate captalism. 
Oh, and that gif was a choice because... Yeah. It’s small, discreet, but that interaction will do some good in the future. Keep that in mind!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Join my taglist! Don’t forget to reblog, comment and like! As always, I would love to know what you’re all thinking! ❤
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You were a cynic - that was both a curse and a relief. A relief, yes, because with that lifestyle, the best way of going through most of your shit was being resilient, added to a big dose of an anesthetized sense of reality. A curse, yes, because it was like you became a numb thing, acting by intuition even in moments where you should just be more… normal. 
It wasn't like you could blame your father, but it sure as hell wasn't something that came from your mother's side. She would definitely have a more genuine and less furtive response to whatever happened inside that office, even if you knew exactly what Carrillo’s words meant.
Because Carrillo used to talk once. 
With deliberate honesty.
You wish you could speak to her, rely on her. Suddenly it had been so long since you walked to her house, talked about your day and the plans for the weekend. Suddenly it all felt too much to handle - the violence, the traps, the long nights, the responsibility. In your moments of calm, spaced and almost non-existent, there were figures that hovered in your imagination and that, despite being equally disturbed by what that life had in store, still made you more innocently accommodated.
Running on the beach. Drinking that good coffee from across the street. Repeating the same things to Mrs. Jackson because, again, she thought you were that girl who used to sell her cigarettes during the 40s. 
It was as if all the control that kept you from smoking your cigarettes or the patience for your morning jogs had gone down the drain, just because Carrillo assumed a truth that made you as afraid as if Juan Marcos had put that knife in your jugular. 
Nobody talked about it. You went back to that room as if nothing had happened, lit a cigarette and went back to your papers; Javier and Steve maintained silence for nearly an entire hour, perhaps deciding whether to keep things as they were or whether to be more combative. Your head went back and forth with the sound of Carrillo's voice saying those things, all mixed up with the jumble of useless information that you had to review because you weren’t fucking paying attention. No one wanted to open up a hornet's nest of problems for an unofficial case in that environment so inhospitable for such indulgences.
You looked up at the sound of a glass being placed on your table - Peña poured three fingers of whiskey and that was as close as the three of you came to a resolution. Silence, then it would be. Temporary consent, in other words.
You couldn't be more grateful for the team you had there.
------------------------
“How are you feeling?”
Murphy was always comfortable being in the background as a listener - he knew himself well, he knew he needed to preserve as much stability as he could for Connie, so he avoided getting mixed up with Javier's shit or your shit, unless it had to do with work. Still, that day, a couple of weeks after that happened, Steve waited for the right moment to make his notes known, before Javi could arrive for work or anyone else entered the office.
At that moment, everything was a complete mess. Things were nothing short of heated with all that hunting for the golden eggs, with a lot of people dying and even more dead ends. Your father took your peace. You readily offered not to attend meetings with Carrillo if you could avoid it, and you even got offensive to Messina in one of her bureaucratic inconveniences. 
“Well, if you’re so worried about it, you should ask him. I’m not inside his head.”
And you remembered how Javier and Steve hid the urge to laugh, even though they were equally worried about the consequences of that comment. Fortunately, nothing happened, and afterwards it became a reason for relaxation between you. 
Which wasn't the same with Horacio.
He lived up to his word and wouldn't make your presence more than a mere inconvenience to his routine. At cluster meetings, he gave direct comments about the work and it was strange not to have any bickering sessions between you two - even if that didn't lessen the discomfort. Sometimes he would flex his fists when he heard you talk and stand back while watching you show him something on the satellite maps. Javier would look at you from the corner, Steve would watch Carrillo; sometimes they switched.
You didn't think any of that was fair. In the letters, you mentioned this to your mother and she said that it was up to you to make that decision: about how you were going to take it all forward and whether you could keep the man in his own torture. She knew, however, that it was also torture for you. That you missed the nights you spent together, the escapades at work, the way he touched you. It was too soon and too pathetic to mention feelings like 'love' or 'infatuation' or… whatever. You two were too skeptical for that. The company made everything more bearable, just as Javier had the girls and Steve had Connie. You and Carrillo didn't have anyone; or at least you didn’t. Juliana was still there for him. Always have, as it seemed. 
Maybe, deep down, that was what bothered you the most - knowing that he had a past connection and that it was easy, in a way, to take the initiative to go for the easier, more comfortable side. You couldn’t provide him that. None of it, to be honest. 
“... It happens, right? With the best and the worst of us. In the end, this is all kind of fucked up.”
You knew that in other circumstances (maybe in another life) Steve would be more reticent about this, more traditionalist. He was the type. So you didn't show much more than muttering under your breath and taking another drag on your cigarette as you continued to sit on that cheap leather couch, the morning sun scorching your back a little.
It took you a moment to answer something - when you did, you saw that he looked uneasy, as if he wanted to say something else.
“I’m fine.” 
“You just make it sound like it's a sacrifice.”
And it wasn't really a sacrifice - in that kind of profession, there was a fine line between just choosing the best and giving things up. Addictions went hand in hand with lucidity, just as the withdrawal from a normal life distanced you from the fact that not having a gun in your belt was like walking naked. You knew yourself; like any human being, you clung to the smallest moments of comfort, stability, joy and pleasure that arose. You were weak for the good life, tired of the constant resilience and warning signs that went off in your head every single day.
Again, you almost left him unanswered. Steve noticed your uncertainty, though. It scared the shit out of you.
“... It’s complicated.”
“Not that I want to be a bitch or something-”
“I know.”
“-But it’s a surprise. 
If he still had the innocence to believe in the system that governed their lives, Steve would be indignant, be the church boy he always was. But no, that wasn’t the case - at least he didn’t show it. He had seen the real world too brutally to fill it with more moralism; otherwise he would ignore it, be rational, move on. Then he blew the smoke that was stuck inside his mouth, shook his head and smiled, all the while staring at the ashtray on his table.
“You two used to hate each other.”
“Yeah.”
“Is it some kind of kink? Love-hate stuff?”
You scoffed a laugh, shaking your head and mirroring the smirk he threw in your direction. 
“At least it wasn't on my table,” Steve teased, as if coming to the realization just seconds before. “Isn’t that fucking considerate?”
As usual, you both laughed with an almost hopeless acceptance surrounding what little humor you shared. Not that it was fun, or worthy of such genuine laughs, just… That. Rational complicity. And you didn't want to ruin the moment, but inside there was another reason for your amusement - when you and Carrillo were making out in the building back in the day, maybe you bumped into something or other on Steve's desk, and you almost broke his desk lamp.
Rational complicity then, you decided, averting your gaze from Javier, who entered the office with nothing more than a grumbled ‘good morning’. 
-------------------------
The landscape became more arid, spaced out - at the very least, isolated. You stared at the bodies splayed out on that cave, trying to somehow decipher what could not be deciphered. There was a morbid but equally cold atmosphere surrounding this discovery; you watched five Carrillo men taking one by one out of that hole, placing them side by side for further identification. The youngest of them was nothing more than 20 years old; at some point, you just turned your head to the side because the ones with more time there were already smelling. 
You stomped to a distant spot and, making sure no one was looking, you threw up. Years of experience or all the circumstances of that job didn't always make you have such a strong stomach. Later that day, you found yourself in your apartment just to brush your teeth - that led to a few minutes of a shower you thought would clean all of those images inside your head. 
Again, you sat alone in the office with more than enough whiskey inside a cup and a third cigarette ready to be lit between your lips. Steve rushed home to Connie; Javier had a puzzled expression on his face when he noticed that you would stay, but you assured him that it was okay, that nothing would happen. For the first time in days, you felt sure of something. 
“Stechner will follow Juan Marcos' lead.”
You turned your eyes from the mountain of papers in front of you, brows raised at the sudden intrusion - out of politeness or not, your father didn’t ask what you were doing there. At worst, he took the cigarette out of your mouth and made you tsk.
“He can be more persuasive than the rest of us, I suppose,” You said nonchalantly. “Or just more than me.”
Again, if he noticed the way you eyed him up and down, probably too full of bitterness, your father decided to keep it to himself, both hands behind his back.
“You agree, then?”
“That's not a question you associate with someone like Stechner.” It sounded almost like a warning, a subtle message of how your ‘soft spot’ used to lead your conceptions and moral judgements to a place way more complicated for that line of work. 
He hummed. Nodded his head. You thought that the conversation was over, of course, but you always should know better than to believe your father could be less than suffocating.
“I figured we could have dinner. I know a place nearby, still discreet enough.” 
“Trying to make me feel better?”
“We're past the stage of understanding that this is your mother's job.” 
The blunt honesty with which he said it made you consider the possibility more; it would be more than enough, spending some time with your father, to understand that there were people in life who knew how to make moments more bitter - or bitter enough to distract your mind from the worst. 
So you accepted. 
Frijoles Rancheros, he said with the best accent he had. 
“Didn't you stop with that?” He said, again, this time without the flirty smile to the waitress or the good Spanish of his.
“Tried to,” You shrugged, cigarette finally being lit and the smoke flowing through the air. 
“Not tryin’ anymore?”
“I needed to keep my list of disappointments with you,” With a smirk, you leaned more comfortably against the chair you sat at, legs crossed and eyes with that devilish spark he hated so much. “What brings you here? Stechner missed you licking his balls or something?”
“... We talked.” He said in a low, stern tone. “Apparently even the CIA knows how to recognize your work around here.”
“So you talked about me.”
“About your achievements, that is. Too emotional-”
“Of course,” You scoffed, dragging more of your cigarette with sarcasm dripping from your tone.
“-But efficient. The one raising your voice to the stubborn Colonel Horacio Carrillo.”
The mention made your stance falter, but just for a moment. You gave him a side-eye, then got back to look at anything but his face - not wanting to fail in your attempt to not show how affected you felt. It sounded like a sin, the fact that your father would use such an indifferent manner to talk about Horacio. How it was so easy for him, a man with so many flaws, to talk about Carrillo as if he was just as insignificant as… Anything. You grew defensive. The guy could still have that way of his, but you didn’t act (even before) like he was nothing. 
“Is it supposed to be a bad thing?” You decided to ask instead, watching him sip his beer faster so he could answer. 
“Have I already told the story of Cúcuta?” 
Probably, but you didn’t pay enough attention back then and wouldn’t pay there. Still, he kept talking. 
“We had discovered that some communist groups were regrouping and we took the National Police guys there. You know, for fact-finding.”
Or killing. Whatever he called it to make him lay his head on the pillow every night. 
“We stayed there for two weeks. Maybe Carrillo was involved, I can't be sure,” But then he got quiet, as if it was the end of the story. After a few beats of silence, you made a face.
“And…?”
“Ah, well, I didn’t know he had that in him to become what he is now. Not the most remarkable cop, but committed to the cause. Very Catholic, however, he called his mother every day. It amazes me that he has come as far as being on the front lines to catch Escobar. It takes a certain obscurity to be good at this job.” 
You considered it silently, watching your dad's grimaces as he just talked about the situation like it was a normal thing. Maybe it was after all. Reality was lighter if you took it as a routine, using conformism as a shield. You wondered if he knew about what happened with you that afternoon - if Carrillo, once, was the type of guy who would throw up because of it. You even wondered, with the space your father gave while simply not paying attention to you, what it would be like to meet that version of Horacio and whether he would make the same decisions, or think that this would be his future.
“I'm sure he has his own demons just like anyone else,” You said out of nowhere, taking in the way the man just watched your motions. “No one gets away with this kind of shit.”
“This shit is catching a communist pig like Escobar.”
Communist, you almost laughed, but you didn't argue. You couldn't even count the number of Americans involved in the lists of secondary cartels in the States, nor how many white-faced people who signed Republican votes negotiated with these 'communists', which only made you more skeptical of the idea of ​​what you were really doing there or the kind of person you had the pleasure of not being raised by.
Under the circumstances, Carrillo's revulsion was understandable.
“You know, you really look like your mother.”
“Conscious?”
“Naive. Maybe not all the violence in the world will make you realize that we are not always the villains.” 
“... No,” You puffed out more of the smoke, arching an eyebrow. “Sometimes you find a shallow ditch full of bodies and it turns out to be Escobar's fault.”
Because everything, from the bastard son who was hidden in the bowels of that country to the resistant hands of Juan Marcos against your neck, had a finger of the communists. If the pain you felt earlier or the pain you felt in childhood with his absence existed, it was because of the communists.
Damn communists.
-------------------------
You threw the other two packs of cigarettes in the trash that same night, as soon as you got back to the office.
With effort, you would remember to look for nicotine patches or anti-smoking gum in the morning.
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Carrillo was familiar with the feeling of self-repression, and for some reason, he too deserved the strict discipline. Never a hair out of place, but that same hair wouldn't be styled any other way than the way he saw fit; short, practical, that was not an interruption but also a form of imposing.
This discipline made him learn that the way we present ourselves says something about us. That's why he really didn't understand why he saw you with a subtlety that definitely didn't exist in that job and, consequently, in you.
That day, you were at one of those reunions. The atmosphere was tense, as always, but Carrillo watched you climb on a small step to gain access to a higher part of the discreet shelf in the corner of the room to reach a cup, all the while laughing at something Peña was saying. It wasn't just the way your thighs flexed in the material of your jeans or the way everything felt tight enough that you had the flexibility to move; your manner changed, your modus operandi. There were no delicate mannerisms in your posture, nor in your approach - the harsh parts made you look like a hedgehog, even with that smile on your face.
If the whole situation had hurt you the way it seemed to him, if… that moment, inside the office, had a similar meaning, he didn't know, but he understood the mystery. There was so much going on and suddenly you had your dad and your issues and your life; Carrillo knew better than anyone that neither he nor you would want to bring up yet another drama. 
He valued that effort, was familiar with it. As at other times when Horacio had to be the rational figure, the loneliness of being dedicated to a discipline was something he knew well how to live with.
Carrillo also knew your frustrations about your father were bubbling to the brim. You tried to cover it up as best you could, always scratching the back of your neck or looking away when a CIA decision interfered with the DEA's. It was obvious that hanging out with guys like him could be like idle work - he, of all people, knew that being here on the ground following more archaic strategies wasn't your style. Or worst: that his presence there meant that he was almost always a flawed tool of a plan he was never fully a part of.
For him, watching you was like watching all the energy that walked beside your manners when you arrived disappearing because, in the end, it sounded as if only he, Horacio, saw the full magnitude of your achievements and efforts. Like an awed spectator of a hungry muse, all teeth and claws for what she believed but cutting off by… the others.
“You know that’s bullshit, right?” You said then, sitting at the edge of the table after serving a good amount of coffee. “I remember seeing you there and I’m pretty sure the night ended really differently.” 
“Well, we didn't say goodbye on my doorstep.”
Carrillo frowned at the suggestion, especially at the way you two seemed to forget he was there too, watching Javier using that natural flirty personality with you. And then you turned to see Steve walking in with Trujillo, away from the commotion, and when Horacio decided that it was his sign to stop staring at you, he saw Peña himself sending him a curious gaze. 
That day, Horacio discovered that Javier had been measuring the situation like a scientific project.
“No tenemos tiempo para esto.” We don't have time for this. 
Was all Carrillo said as soon as the reunion was over and they were walking side by side down the corridor. 
“No se de que estas habl-” I don’t know what you're talking ab-.
“Tu sabes.” You know. 
They both stopped in their tracks, interrupted by the Colonel's gruff voice and the way he jerked him around with a shoulder pull. Javier frowned, tried to understand where that all came from, then raised his eyebrows at the realization. He sighed, looked around and put his hands on his hips.
“¿Alguien te ha dicho alguna vez que no eres la persona más sutil que hay?” Has anyone ever told you that you're not the most subtle person around?
Horacio kept quiet. Caught. 
“Su padre es un gilipollas, quizás uno de los peores con los que me he cruzado. Ha dejado muy claro que quiere la oportunidad adecuada para sacarla de aquí.” Her father is an asshole, maybe one of the worst I've ever come across. He's made it very clear that he wants the right opportunity to get her out of here.
And for a moment, Carrillo almost understood those motivations. If he was a worried parent, he wouldn't sleep easy knowing his only daughter was putting herself in front of bullets or curled up in the arms of a fucking narco, nearly suffocated to death. He himself didn't like to imagine what would have happened if he hadn't gotten there in time. 
“... No estaba coqueteando con ella, si eso es lo que te preocupa. Nunca saldríamos bien, esa mujer es una diabla.” I wasn't flirting with her, if that's what you're worried about. We would never work out, that woman is a devil.
True. So true. 
“Pero es mejor que decidas qué va a ser de eso, porque está bastante claro que te estás engañando a ti mismo.” But you better decide what's going to become of it, because it's pretty clear you're kidding yourself.
Javier didn't elaborate, and despite not being the most sensitive of men, Carrillo knew when he was being put up against something he was avoiding. As Peña walked away with a frustrated posture, he wondered if that was the effect he had on you, of disappointment at being… him.
Of course, he didn't openly mention this to anyone, nor did he feel able to do so; to the fullest, he reinforced his serious expression when he saw you leave the operating room and look for someone. You looked one way, then the other, and saw him standing there. Something must have gone through your mind with the way you swallowed hard and clenched your fists - Carrillo wondered if it was the same memory of that night in your apartment, when you were still fresh from sex and with other perspectives.
For an instant, just one, he felt it. Like a replica of that same night.
When he was the first to look away, smothered by the idea and tempted by the sensation you offered those days, Carrillo knew he was probably letting you down again.
As he should. 
-------------------------
You felt frustrated. You'd been having that feeling for a while before the whole Carrillo situation, but it wasn't like you could deny that that disappointment had lessened dramatically once you'd spent time in his bed.
They began to monitor letters sent by employees exported from the States. Peña always walked around with an even more frown on having the letters he sent to his father being invaded in this way and, as much as Steve didn't complain while having Connie there, he complained about the intrusion just like Javier.
You felt suffocated. 
That’s how you ended up getting fucked inside a restroom stall, legs attached to the sides of the hips of a guy named Carlos and dress hiked up to make it easy for him to access… you. Or your decency, if such a term existed at the moment. There was an effort there, though. Carlos made the time well spent. When you went home that night, maybe you really were more relaxed, your shoulders less rigid and your spine relaxed.
But there was a reason you couldn't sleep a wink that night.
Carlos was Carlos, not Carrillo.
Perhaps, you tried to justify, it was because there was a greater reason than just the attraction with the two of you. There was an almost paranoid fear that the days were uncertain, the daily stress of a job that seemed to be failing and the frustrations - Carlos was Carlos, not Carrillo. The kisses, the touches, the look; two opposites. You would close your eyes if you were Horacio, you would sleep like you haven't slept in days. Surely you wouldn't wash yourself so vehemently after sex either if it was him. 
It wasn’t though. It was Carlos. 
So when the phone rang around two, you got up without difficulty and answered it on the second ring. There was no need to rub your eyes to chase away sleep because it didn't exist, even if physical fatigue made you massage your shoulder while listening to a brief recorded message from a woman saying it was a private and recorded call.
“¿Es usted responsable del caso de Juan Marcos de las Puentes?” Are you responsible for the case of Juan Marcos de las Puentes?
The voice was too Latin to be Javier's and too different to be Carrillo's; even if it were one of them, they wouldn't use Spanish or act like they didn't know you. Your first reaction was frown - and the second, unconsciously, was to look around as if the answer to the as yet unspoken question was in your living room. 
“... Sí. ¿Quien habla?” Yes. Who’s speaking?
“Soy Frances Tenorio, directora encargada del Centro Especial de Detención de Medellín.” I'm Frances Tenorio, director in charge of the Medellín Special Detention Center.
The last time someone called you this late at night, five years ago, was when the family found out that your grandmother had passed away. Your uncles, two other men who lived in the South, asked if it made sense for you to help them with the funeral arrangements - not that there was any intimacy to it, but because she would like to be treated with a delicacy that none of the three had. You took responsibility because you knew your father wouldn't do it out of hurt. He never had a good relationship with his mother.
Still, all that cold commitment to ensuring that the body was well treated and the ceremony well organized, such as the mass that took place seven days later, did not compare to the coldness with which you reacted to Frances' words.
There was no clarification and you didn't ask; just requests you weren’t so used to having, but obliged anyway. You listened to the instructions, hung up, got dressed - gun in the holster, badge on your belt. When you left, you locked the apartment door as usual, walked down the hall, got in the car and realized that the radio was still on a specific station, at that time of night repeating romantic songs. You didn’t turn it off. 
Your mind hesitated to do the call - you didn’t want to. Circumstances did not have an exact logic in the chronology of the facts that you knew. Juan Marcos wasn’t supposed to be there, least in Medellín. Whatever the fuck Stechner tried to do wouldn’t be placed there for obvious reasons. There were at least five people who received that kind of information before you, and suddenly the director of a place you didn't even know was part of Juan Marcos' punishment had your phone number. It was statistical to know that no one died like that at a time like this - the guy was a bull, healthy from head to toe, with at most a late tetanus vaccine.
Then, all of the sudden-
“As I said, dead.” 
Frances didn't have the best of English, but the heavily accented words made a lot of sense in your ears, even if they didn't make sense on their own. His office was poorly lit, and generally speaking, you had a lot of questions, but you just stared at that death certificate with nothing but open confusion on your face. Perhaps it was the way you lagged to say something, because Frances kept talking.
“The National Police was already warned about-”
“The National Police?” You abruptly raised your head. 
“It's the norm. Rules. I couldn't let another gringo into my jail alone.”
Before you could ask what he meant or process the information, you noticed someone entering the door and, of course, it needed to be Carrillo. The National Police. He looked at you with a big frown, then at the officers behind and Frances - mad. 
“¿Desde cuándo es este un protocolo aceptable?” Since when is this an acceptable protocol? Horacio asked in a harsh tone, standing right beside you. Looking at the door again, you spotted Trujillo, confused and a little taken aback by the sudden situation. 
“Llegaron los gringos y tenían orden de interrogatorio. Eso es protocolo, tú lo sabes mejor que nadie.” The gringos showed up and had an interrogation warrant. That's protocol, you know that better than anyone.
“Que gringos?” 
The silence that followed, short but helpful, was like an obvious answer to an even more obvious question. You faced the early death certificate, then Carrillo, who didn't express any reaction. You, by yourself, couldn’t express any reaction.
“I want to see the body.” 
“Qué?” What?
“Do you think that’s a good id-”
“Quiero ver el cuerpo. ¿Ahora me entiendes?” I want to see the body. Do you understand me now?
Carrillo wasn’t combative with your interruption, nor with the way you were snappy with Frances; otherwise, he nodded in approval of your request, as if none of that hadn't already been the same as everyone in that jail dropping their pants for the CIA's threats, as if they needed just Carrillo’s approval. 
At some point in your education, you learned about the special rooms for political prisoners during the communist uprising and the government's quiet work of putting down Sierra Maestra-influenced guerrillas. 64, the formative year of half the men inside those halls and, arguably, the golden memories of that Frances Tenorio. With the 'peace sealed' by right-wing groups, you knew that many of these rooms became normal interrogation spaces or, as in the case of that institution, an improvised mortuary that looked more like a shallow spawning pit.
Fractured skull from a fall, the obituary said. They were opening an internal investigation into a possible gang rebellion.
Juan Marcos was a man nearly six feet tall, with truly thick arms, long legs, and robust from head to toe. You knew his weight, strength and physical skills like no one else. The hands, you noticed, did not bear a single mark of retaliation or defense. You would know if he had; moreover, healed from the clash with you months earlier. Looking from there, with nothing but a pale, lifeless face, motionless, you noticed that Juan Marcos looked no less frightening or dangerous or… Well, the face of a criminal. 
You wondered how many guys came to do the job. Two to tie, one to intimidate - maybe one more to watch. They used to had this one.
“Is your father in Medellín?” Carrillo asked in a low tone, not daring to disturb the intense staring you’re giving the guy right in front of you two. 
“Nn-nn,” You shook your head slightly, then turned to Frances. “Stechner.”
“Protocol.” Was all he said, already turning to leave the room but probably standing still on the other side of the door. 
Three fingernails had been torn out and there were electric shock marks on his nipples, groin and mouth. The face was disfigured and torn by what looked like blows; if you turned him on his side, you probably would see the marks on the backs of the knees just as you saw them on the wrists and heels. The corpus delicti examination, still unsigned as well as the obituary, only recorded the head injury that didn't really exist - done with a typewriter that probably came from the office you had come not so shortly before.
When you raised your head, Carrillo was watching you carefully, measuring every reaction that could come out of your neutral expression. He knew how it was. He did it himself. You could see that, probably, he was just mad that he wasn't responsible for it. Maybe you were too, just a little - deep down, better saying. 
“I need a cig.”
The conversation must have lasted ten, fifteen minutes? You only managed to finish the first one, leaning against the hood of the car and alone in the side parking lot of the prison. The nicotine patch must have been lost somewhere in those hallways and his arm was still marked by the glue. When you went to take the second cigarette in your mouth, you saw Horacio approach and also the way your hands were shaking. He chose not to be at your side, but in front of you; as soon as you lit the cigarette, you kept both elbows resting on the car hood behind you.
No one said anything for a good minute. When you dared to give him a look, just once, Carrillo was lighting a cigarette for him - something way stronger than yours, as always. 
“What was it?” You broke the silence with a single question, one he just shrugged at first. “I’ll give it an hemorrhagic shock.”
“I’ll give it a fractured skull from a fall.”
“Please,” You scoffed, raising the cigarette to your lips again. 
“The CIA put in their report that the last operation didn’t suffer any casualties. I had to sign two letters of removal and I almost signed one of death. So yes, a fractured skull from a fall. ” 
It was difficult. You knew it was. When you started to get close to him and understand a little more of what was there, under the skin, you could see that his biggest frustrations were in the fact that the potential of his work was limited. There would always be a Stechner, a CIA, a DEA, a bunch of outsiders with funny accents and shitty Spanish. That he, as a man and as a professional, always had the cards in his hand but would only play them if someone from above said so; that when he started to overcome this hierarchy, he was banished to Madrid and then back with a freedom tied in very loose halters, under conditions that you didn't know, out of sheer whim.
Carrillo knew those marks and those consequences - many had his name transcribed. And he could say it was hemorrhagic shock or whatever the fuck fucked up Juan Marcos' life, but you both knew that outcome held particular satisfaction for him. At least enough to accept it unchallenged.
“... He was my suspect,” You said in a defeated tone, blowing smoke in the air. “It's pretty stupid of me to think they'd at least consult me ​​first, right? To say they would come here to destroy the guy?” 
“Yeah. But you’re smart all the same.” 
“Not enough to not do the math on why my dad pretended he wanted to have dinner with me.” 
“He wanted?”
“He did it.” You responded vehemently, tapping your thumb on the end of your cigarette to knock out more of the ash. “I should have known better when I saw him there in the office so late at night. Talking about Stechner taking the lead as if he wasn’t already planning on killing the motherfucker.”
“And do you think it would have made a difference if you had known?”
“... No.”
You didn't say it was because you were witnessing what your father could do for the first time and that it scared the shit out of you; they were childish thoughts. After years of paddling against the tide, seeing him miss his own mother's wake and even all the disappointments he could’ve caused you, everything was more tolerable when his stories were just that: stories. You also had your share of lives under your belt: one guy in Compton, one in South Beach, one more in a warehouse during a drug traffic operation. Still, you learned to live with them because it was your job. Yours only. And sometimes you could forget that someone who was supposed to give you a little more petting reduced you to one more small obstacle to doing his.
Again. And again. And again. 
You felt stupid. Naive. Again.
“It’s like fucking Hotel California,” You muttered, eyes closed and fingers massaging your temple. 
“Like what?” He asked in sincere curiosity, making you look at him in time to spot his own cigarette mid air. 
“Like the song. On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair…? Nothing?” Your hands gesticulated. 
“Too gringo for me,” Carrillo inhaled on his cigarette and pretended (pretended) he was keeping a straight face. You rolled your eyes.  
“Your friend Frances must agree with that.”
“By your time here, you should know that not everyone trusts you.” 
“There’s a few exceptions.” You defended. 
“Yeah, some people might lose certain opinions for one person or another.”
With another drag on your cigarette, you let out a low 'huh' and shook your head, but when you glanced back at Carrillo, you saw that he was watching you with a very wide gaze. Again, measuring your reactions, as if trying to send a message with his silence. You did the same. 
It's been a while since you've been like this, with time to observe each other and capture details that captivated your encounters. He was more tired, visibly fresh out of his static spot in the office on the upper floors, probably with a couple of glasses of whiskey in his system. Damn pretty, you could add. Prettier than Carlos - poor Carlos. 
He broke eye contact first. 
“You’ll talk with your father?”
“Well, at least to know if it was hemorrhagic shock.”
“I don't know if this will make you sleep better.”
“Nah,” You shrugged, tilting your head to the side. “Just looks like I forgot the guy can be sadistic as fuck.” 
“Habit.”
“Personality.”
Again, silence. This time though, you were the first one to break eye contact, mostly because that thing got into a place you wouldn’t like to go. You didn’t tell Carrillo, probably wouldn’t, but your mind was building scenarios and creating perspectives about something you really preferred to forget. 
Your mom always knew better - you wished you weren't so curious as to choose the same career as your father to know what kind of shit he did.
“You’re going back to the office?” 
“Yes.”
“Mm,” He walked in your direction, but went straight to the door to open it. Before he could do it, though, Carrillo turned to you. “I would do the same.”
You nodded. 
“I know.”
“And you too.”
“Not with the same motivation,” You looked at him nonchalantly. “I have personal reasons. The type I could understand.”
“He don’t?”
“Well, we’re not the same,” Another shrug, this time dragging more of the cigarette before blowing the smoke out the side. “Perhaps I’m more different for not being adept at this, but is it really that different? I don't feel guilt, but I do feel angry that he disappeared with a guy who could give me information. Screw his life, right?”
“... Sometimes this type of life makes us forget that we are humans. You're not Gandhi or any shit like that, you're you. Flesh, bone and a gun in hand, ready to fire at the right time. I would do it, because I know what he's done to other people, but I've also seen what he's done to you.” 
He took a step closer - just one. And when you instinctively backed away with your eyes closed and a hurt murmur coming from your throat, Carrillo froze in place. 
“We don’t need to talk-”
“I know.”
“But stop playing with me, Horacio. Stop.” For a moment, he looked confused, then noticed something that perhaps even you didn’t and nodded in defeat. “Don’t be like him. Not now.”
Don't be opportunistic like him, don't be selfish like him, don't be capricious like him, don't use you like he always did. That's what you meant. That he shouldn’t pretend he didn’t say no twice and approached you later with some kind of warm conversation because it seemed convenient. You didn't need it - what you wanted and what you accepted he denied too quickly.
“... I’ll be back in the office.” You said after a time, eyes on the floor right where the cigarette landed and hand brushing your left eyebrow. “Body identified, death certificates and stuff like that. It's just, isn't it? Do you proceed from here?” 
Carrillo gulped, considered your face like a brave man and said a simple ‘yes’ before insisting on opening the goddamn door for you. And you let him, even when he stood there, the door now closed, staring at you through the open window. 
“Good night, Colonel.” 
“... Good night.”
He tapped the opening twice, took three long steps back and inhaled on the cigarette which, as you had barely noticed, was still lit in his hand. You watched him through the rearview mirror, just for a moment longer, and after that split opportunity you also stared at your own eyes - coming to a conclusive revelation. One you already knew, in fact. 
Carlos was Carlos. Carrillo was Carrillo. 
And damn you for always choosing the complicated ones. 
--------------------------
No pressure tags:
@cheesybadgers
@thesandbeneathmytoes
@616wilsons ​
@nessamc
@thoroughlymodernminutia
@padbrookcottage
@mysoulisasunflower​ 
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avenging-fandoms · 4 years
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kissing marco while you're blindfolded at the kissing booth for your first kiss is >>>>
your palms started to sweat as you stepped up to the booth with your eyes covered with the blindfold. you took a deep breath and everyone cheered as lee announced that the kissing booth was open. 
you heard footsteps approach your stand and you took a deep breath. “okay, just a heads up, i’ve never been kissed before and i honestly don’t know why i agreed to this. but if i suck as kissing, you know why” you sigh, licking your lips. “are you gonna kiss me or-” 
the person grabbed your chin, pulling you forward and connecting your lips with theirs. your hands held their biceps, and you nearly moaned as you felt the toned muscles. after a minute they slowly pull away, and you gulp as you feel their smile. 
their fingers push up your blindfold and you blink, before gasping and realizing it was marco. your eyes widen and you smile, grabbing his cheeks and kissing him again. everyone standing at the kissing booth cheered, marco pushing away the table and slightly lifting you off you ground as he kissed you. 
“i’m so glad you were my first kiss, i was scared it was going to be some random person” you mumble against his mouth and he laughs. you wrap your arms around his neck and he spins you around, holding his fist in the air and the crowd cheers again, making you blush into his shoulder. 
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misomeru · 4 years
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destiel-joshler69 · 4 years
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My thoughts on the second Kissing Booth.....ummmm... Yeah it was a no for me. I found the first one to be very cliche and cringey but I somehow enjoyed it.
1. Noah should never have been endgame imo. They shoulda been broke up. He had problems in the first movie and it just wasn't cute. In the beginning of tbe second he was back on his bs calling her like a lunatic in school cause elle didn't answer his text while in class???
2. This whole John Ambrose/Rahim trope they're doing in these Netflix movies and shows must be stopped. Marco was very obviously the better choice. Not only was he a better fit but the chemistry was just there. i felt like in the first movie it was more lust and forbidden love driving elle and noah. Marco deserved better that's all I'll say on the matter.
3. Idc if Noah and Chloe never did anything but something was up with her she's lying if she wasn't trying to get with noah. The earrings, the looks, the flirting ma'am please.
4. I love Lee and Elle's relationship but sometimes they were annoying as hell. Like Lee needed to chill sometimes acting like elle was his gf or something. I get where he's coming from but damn chill.
5. On that note Rachel needed to chill as well. Miss girl you're the new one bow are you gonna mad at him wanting to spend time with someone he's been spending time with his whole life. At the same time I understand her frustration but she had so many times she really coulda left but didn't so I was like that's on you boo.
5. Idk if this is controversial but wtf was that random ass gay couple. I think I missed something cause it really came outta nowhere very much plot C and I was not interested. Make a gay couple the main plot or at least B cause everytime they came on the screen I was like okay girl this is getting in the way of the main plots. The kiss scene was cute he was all do you have a ticket? Living but the lead up was lacking.
Overall tbh I think I liked it better than the first one even though I just said it was a no but that's not exactly saying much.
Also side note literally the whole movie I was distracted by the fact that Marco and Noah look exactly alike.
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nomtterwhere · 4 years
Text
come back to me || marco peña x reader
a/n: now that we have an official announcement for kissing booth 3, i figured i’d finish this little fic that has been sitting in my drafts. i combined two requests because they were kind of similar and i had an idea that would work the both of them in. hope you guys like it!
request: @dystopianchic13 requested: “Going on a date and finding someone better after Elle!” and @mansaaay requested: “marco befriended a girl before the elle thirsting over marco incident, and the kissing booth, marco and the girl sorta start talking again?”
summary: when marco starts at your school, the two of you quickly become friends. but when elle gets involved, your relationship takes a turn for the worse...
word count: 4.4k
marco valentin peña.
newest school heartthrob, with good reason, and very quickly set to possibly be the most popular guy in school. and yet, here he was sitting and eating lunch with you and your friends.
it’s not that you weren’t well liked or anything, but you and your friend group were nowhere near the status of the omgs. and considering the way everyone talked about him from the moment he stepped into the building, you had assumed that would be the direction he would flock.
but alas, on his first day at this school, he ended up standing at your table, tray of food in hand. your friend nudged you until you looked up from your lunch and saw him standing there. up until this point you had only heard of marco. you hadn’t shared any classes with him earlier in the day but throughout all of them you could hear bits and pieces of conversation about how attractive this guy was. and now that he was standing in front of you, those comments didn’t do him enough justice.
he was wearing the same uniform everyone else was, but he had rolled his sleeves up so they just passed his elbows, drawing your attention almost immediately to his forearms. trailing your eyes up his body, your eyes followed along his broad shoulders and up the length of his neck, glancing at his strong jawline.
you made eye contact with him, your breath quite literally leaving your body. his brown eyes were kind and inviting, friendly even, as if you hadn’t just been shamelessly checking him out.
“um, hi.” you say.
he smiles at you, nods to the empty seat across from you. “hey, i was wondering if that seat was taken.”
oh god, his voice.
you try and ignore the pinch that quinn delivers to your thigh underneath the table and shake your head. “no. um, it’s all yours.”
he gives you a full smile now, his perfect teeth on full display and you can’t help but smile back. he takes a seat, setting his bag down beside him.
your friend grant sits at his right side and places a hand on his shoulder. “you’re marco, right?”
marco nods.
grant squints his eyes at him and shakes his head, looking across the table at you and quinn. “unbelievable.”
he turns back to marco. “do me a favor and stay away from my girlfriend.”
“grant!” the girlfriend in question, jen, exclaims and gives him a look before turning to marco. “excuse him, he’s an idiot.”
grant releases marco with a laugh and takes a bite of his sandwich. “i was kidding! mostly.” he mumbles the last word through a full mouth.
marco laughs, waving it off. “it’s okay. trust me, i’m not here to steal anyone’s girlfriend.”
you take a drink from your water bottle, laughing at your friends. “yeah, this may have not been the prime table for you to choose to sit at.”
marco shrugs, giving you a half smile. “i like it. you guys seem very...”
“loud?” quinn finishes as one of the boys down the table shrieks as someone else pours water down his shirt. “disruptive? unfiltered?” she aims that last word at grant, who’s too infatuated with his sandwich to notice.
marco laughs again and you smile. he seems very open, you note. willing to go with anything.
“i was gonna say entertaining.” he shrugs. “but those work too.”
you and your friends quickly introduce yourselves and the rest of the lunch period resumes like it always would have.
marco quickly slips into the natural system of you and your friends, not even a little bit fazed when the entire cafeteria turned to see the commotion that you had caused when someone flipped their entire lunch tray off the table. he simply laughed along with you guys, giving himself into the moment. too soon, lunch is over and you and your friends are cleaning up your table and throwing out the trash. faintly, you hear quinn arguing with the boys, telling them you were the ones to make the mess so of course you have to clean it up! as you came back to your table from returning your tray.
marco looks at you when you return and stands. “hey, could you tell me where mr. peterson’s room is? i would have asked one of them but...” the both of you turn your heads to where quinn is supervising the boys picking up after themselves and the girls sneak off as best as they can before quinn gets to them as well. “...they seem a bit busy.”
you laugh, picking up your backpack. “just another day with this bunch, trust me. but lucky for you, i also have ap physics next.”
the bell rings and you turn to quinn, but she hasn’t let up on the boys so you just let her be. being late on the first day isn’t that big of a deal anyway.
you lead marco to the physics room, all eyes on the two of you as soon as you step into the room. you almost forgot that you had spent the entirety of lunch with the school’s newest crush up until this very moment. you could feel the glares directed at you radiating throughout the room and watched as heads of those who hadn’t seen him yet perk up as he entered.
“is it just me, or is everyone looking at us?” marco had bent down and was whispering in your ear.
you decide not to inflate his ego anymore and shake your head. “it’s just you.”
you take a seat at one of the lab tables, marco sitting beside you. you zone out as the teacher speaks, it was the first day so it was mainly rules and the expectations for the year.
so you don’t pay much attention until one sentence catches your ear:
“the person you’re sitting with will be your lab partner for the rest of the year.”
you and marco turn to look at each other and he grins.
“hi, partner.” he says, quietly since mr. peterson is still speaking.
“you should know, i have been yelled at in every lab class i’ve ever taken because i always forget the directions.” you warn him.
“well this should be fun. so have i.” he winks and you both laugh quietly.
the period passes slowly as most do on the first day. the bell rings but everyone stays in their seats since lab was next anyway.
you go over lab rules and discuss the first lab you will be doing next time and you raise your brows as he hands out the instruction sheet.
“yikes, this looks like a lot of steps.” you say to marco and he shakes his head.
“mm, yeah. next lab class should be fun, don’t you think?” he gives you a knowing look.
you can’t help but laugh at the thought of you in a lab class together, but the laughter is also for the fact that you found marco.
never in your life had you met someone who was so ready to quickly adapt and go with the flow. you had had no doubt that your lunch table would be enough to scare him off but he had already decided he would be coming back tomorrow. and so, that became the beginning of your friendship and many screwed up labs. marco inserted himself nicely into your friend group and the two of you especially started becoming really close. that was, until one fateful day.
“...hot.” is the only thing you hear over the loudspeaker in the middle of your english class and everyone around you looks up in confusion. “he’s just a guy...woah!”
you quickly recognize the voice as elle evans and also realize that she probably doesn’t know she’s being broadcast to the entire school right now.
“the omgs were right, this guy is a snack!” you hear her say and everyone in your classroom laughs, the teacher’s eyebrows raised.
you wince on her behalf. you’re not friends, but still. that’s embarrassing for anyone. everyone gathers pretty quickly that’s she’s talking about marco and you internally roll your eyes. obviously you know marco’s hot, you have eyes. but to have another girl describe just how hot he is over the loudspeaker during class makes you bubble over with annoyance.
and besides, doesn’t she have a boyfriend?
eventually, her tirade stops and your teacher tries to calm the class down so you can get back to work. but even as you leave your class, everyone is still taking about it and elle has been given the new nickname get it girl.
“ah, there he is, our very own full course meal. or was he the dessert?” grant asks as marco sits at the table.
“no, grant. he’s a snack, remember?” quinn joins in.
“how about all of the above?” you say and the table erupts into laughter.
marco shakes his head. “alright, alright. enough jokes.”
you get a deadpanned look on your face. “oh, no. we’re dead serious marco. you’re just that hot.”
grant wraps an arm over his shoulders and starts making kissy faces at marco which he laughs at and shrugs off.
“seriously, though. where does elle get off saying that kind of shit? doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” jen asks.
“she does, indeed.” you point a fry in her direction before popping it into your mouth.
“huh,” marco says as he takes a sip of his water.
“what’s that’s supposed to mean?” you ask him.
“nothing.” he sets down his bottle. “i just didn’t know she had a boyfriend is all.”
you give him a wary look but decide to drop it for now, hoping that elle evans was behind you. and she was, until...
“you what?”
marco sighs, sinking his pool shot before standing up straight.
the two of you were at the arcade, making the most of your last day of the weekend. the arcade was mainly empty except for a mother and her two kids who turned to look at you when you shouted. you gave her an apologetic look before turning your attention back to marco.
“i felt bad. lee can’t do the competition and she really wants to enter. what was i supposed to say, no?” marco says in response.
apparently elle and lee were supposed to enter a dance dance mania competition together, but since lee sprained his ankle, elle needed a replacement partner.
you don’t say anything, simply watching as he misses his next shot.
he looks up at you when he realizes you aren’t going to respond. “why do you even care if i help her?”
you feel your face get warm but you ignore it as best as you could, setting up for your own shot. it was your first shot of the game considering you hadn’t realized he was apparently a pro at pool.
“i don’t! its just that we have a take home lab due in two weeks and i don’t want to be stuck doing it myself cause you’re off dancing with get it girl.”
you call her by her nickname solely to spite him. why did you care so much? who knows, but you enjoyed seeing marco roll his eyes at the mention of the name.
“you won’t. and hey, relax.” he says.
you shoot him a glare. “don’t tell me to relax when you’re abandoning me.”
he chuckles. “no, relax.” he nods to the pool cue in your hand which you have in a death grip.
“oh.” you didn’t realize you had been taking out your anger on the poor stick. you take a deep breath, relaxing your grip and line up your shot.
“here.” marco walks over to you, disappearing from your vision as he stands behind you.
you quietly take a sharp intake of breath as you feel his body behind yours, his hands coming around you to lightly rest on the cue, shifting it slightly.
“what are you doing?” you ask, quietly but make no move to exit his embrace.
“considering i’m three shots away from winning and you haven’t made a single one yet, i figured i could help you out a little.” he says and you can hear the smile in his voice.
“oh, shut up.” you mumble, but you don’t put any power behind your words.
marco adjusts your grip on the pool cue, lightly setting his hands over yours. his chest presses against your back and you can feel the heat radiating from his body to yours. your stomach clenches as his hand grazes yours ever so gently as he settles in. he leans forward a bit as he helps you line up your shot and you try your hardest to focus on the task at hand. but his lips are right by your ear so you feel his breath as he whispers:
“and shoot.”
you tap the ball with your pool cue, watching as your striped 10 ball rolls into the left corner pocket.
marco lifts his arms in victory and you found yourself saddened by the sudden loss of his body against yours.
“there it is!” he exclaims. “alright, next shot is all you.”
you groan playfully, trying to ignore the butterflies that have arisen in your stomach. you spend the rest of your day in the arcade before calling it quits and heading home to finish homework.
when you get home, you mull over what marco dancing with elle in the ddm competition means. you try to remind yourself that marco said things weren’t going to change now that he was helping out elle, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t going to turn out like he hoped.
and you were right.
ever since they started rehearsals, you have seen less and less of marco. he even eats lunch with her, leaving his spot across from you vacant. you saw him during ap physics but that was the only time you talked.
and as for your lab, guess who had spent the past two weeks working on it herself? everytime you called him to get him to work with you, it was always “sorry, elle and i have a practice” or “elle needs me right now.” it was as if your friendship meant nothing to him.
“alright guys, labs are due friday. i want them on my desk by the beginning of the lab period.” mr. peterson says at the end of lab on tuesday.
“oh shit, i totally forgot about that.” marco says, turning to you. “how’s—”
“it’s fine. i’m almost finished.” you cut him off, packing away your stuff without making eye contact.
“okay...” he says this with a twinge of confusion in his voice and you can feel the anger inside of you. “there’s nothing i can do?”
“i don’t know marco, why don’t you ask my dozens of phone calls and text messages i’ve sent you regarding the lab?” you lock eyes with him, angry now. “does i won’t let you do this lab alone ring a bell? or have you forgotten about that too?”
he sighs. “y/n, you know i’ve been busy. and i’m sorry. i really didn’t mean for you to do all of the work.”
your teacher clears his throat. “mr. peña, ms. y/l/n. don’t you have a class to get to?”
you look up with a smile. “yes, mr. peterson, sorry. have a good day.”
you leave the classroom without another look at marco.
and so the continuing weeks followed as such, marco spending all of his time with elle and the two of you only speaking when you had class together. there were times you tried to reach out, to be a peacemaker, but he always responded to your requests to hang out with sorry, i’m busy. next time?
to no one’s surprise, there was never a next time.
and as much as you were mad at marco for essentially ignoring your presence ever since he started dancing with elle, you couldn’t help but tune in to the competition since it was being streamed live.
“give me a second!” you call to your mom as you sit in front of your laptop and watch as elle and marco are called to the stage.
you sit through the performance, unable to help the proud feeling spreading through your body. you and marco may not have been as good of friends anymore, but you were still happy to see him thrive. even if it was a result of ignoring you for so long. your proud smile quickly drops from your face though, as you watch elle kiss marco. your eyebrows raise and you inhale a sharp intake of breath when she wraps and arm around him and pulls him closer.
you shut your laptop quickly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. you press your hands against your eyes, refusing to let the tears fall. what would they be falling for? some guy that hadn’t shown interest in you and then abandoned you when you needed help? you were better than that.
so you left it alone. you didn’t know what was going on with elle and marco and it wasn’t any of your business. you had put it past you. you and marco were still friendly, but after the kiss with elle, he seemed even more distant than usual. and you couldn’t figure out why until the night of the fundraiser.
you were walking through the carnival, looking at different booths with jen when elle ran past us, accidentally bumping into you. she turned when she noticed it was you who she had run into and you notice her red rimmed eyes.
“oh my gosh, are you okay?” you may not have been her biggest fan, but you also weren’t a bitch. it was obvious she had been crying.
“i’m really sorry. just talk to him, okay? please.” was all she said before leaving the carnival.
“what was that about?” jen asks me.
“i’m not sure...” you say, looking after her retreating figure.
but it didn’t take long to figure out because as we walked further into the booths, we saw marco walking away from the kissing booth. with his head slightly bowed and his hands in his pockets, it was obvious he was upset about something.
you and liz exchanged a look and she raised her eyebrow at you, nodding over in his direction.
“well? go talk to him!” she shoved you forward a little bit.
you sighed, knowing that you should. you assumed that’s what elle had been talking about. so you approached him slowly, just as he reached the outside of the kissing booth crow.
“hey.”
he looked up when he heard your voice, an almost grateful look on his face, and gave you a small smile. “hey.”
“can we talk?” you asked him and he broke into a relieved smile.
“yeah, i’d like that.”
you followed him to the outskirts of the carnival where the two of you sat on a bench right outside the exit. you sat first, crossing your legs as you faced the opposite side of the bench and patted the space beside you.
marco chucked and sat down, turning to face you as well. he drummed his fingers on the back of the bench, and you noticed his knee was bouncing. he was nervous. because of this you thought you would have to guide him into conversation, but to your surprise he began with no hesitation.
“i know i owe you an apology. ditching you like that because of my stupid crush on elle was not cool, especially after promising i wouldn’t let you do all the work yourself.” you winced at that, hoping it wasn’t too visible. you had known that marco liked elle, obviously, but to hear him say it aloud still hurt. “i’m so sorry. and not only about the lab but about our friendship. you were the first people that was actually real to me when i came here and you were my best friend. i let elle get in the way of that and i feel terrible.”
he fidgeted a bit in his seat. “i know i haven’t acted like it but...i miss you. a lot. i miss our terrible labs and arcade days and having lunch with you. i miss all of it. and i know it’s my fault that none of that has been happening. i really just...want to be friends again.” he looked up at you with sad eyes and you could tell he meant it.
and as much as you appreciated his apology and his honesty, you couldn’t just let him off the hook. “you really hurt me, marco. i get it, okay? crushes can make you do crazy things, but i told you that she had a boyfriend. you knew that and you still decided that she was worth risking our friendship over. while you were off dancing with elle, i was losing my best friend.”
“i know. and i’m so sorry. you’re right, i should’ve backed off the minute you told me that. but i really thought...” his voice trailed off and he shook his head. “but it’s not. and that’s done okay? she’s made it pretty clear i’m not the one she wants. and i hate that it took this for us to finally talk again, but i really just want to get back to the way we were.”
you smiled. “i want that too. and of course i’m upset but i can’t say i wouldn’t have jumped at an opportunity to hang out with someone i liked as well.”
“so?” he looked hopeful.
you laughed and stood. “so...marco valentin peña, you are officially forgiven.”
he smiled and stood up as well, pulling you into a hug. wrapping your arms around his waist, you squeezed him tightly as he did the same to you. you stayed like that for a moment before heading back into the fair. and just like that, the two of you were good again.
over the next few weeks, you and marco started hanging out again, he returned to your lunch table, and of course the two of you screwed up more labs than you could count. and over those few weeks, marco was getting over elle and he couldn’t help but think about you. the way you said his name, how you grabbed onto him whenever you were excited about something, your kind heart, and he especially couldn’t stop thinking about when you hugged him.
due to his height, his whole body ended to engulf you hen the two of you hugged, but you loved it. and you were an affectionate hugger. he wished he was the only one who received your hugs became they always made him feel so comfortable and at home. and when you let go, there have been more than a few times when he would pull you back in saying just a little longer. and you would laugh and snuggle yourself further into his chest. and there was nothing better than that feeling.
he really liked you. and he couldn’t believe he had wasted all that time on someone already in a relationship when you were right in front of him. so one day when you were at his house studying for your upcoming physics test, he decided to short his shot. sitting beside you at the dining table, he put his notebook down and turned his attention to you.
“hey, so y/n.” he said, his voice shaking a bit.
“mm?” you said, not looking up from the flash cards you were making.
“i, uh–” he cleared his throat. “i had a question.”
“shoot.” you said, highlighting the important information in your notes that you would copy onto your flash cards.
“um, do you–i mean, would want to go out with me? like, on a date?”
you paused your highlighting and slowly turned to face him. “i thought your question was going to be about physics...”
marco let out a short laugh. “yeah, well.” he just shrugged. when you didn’t say anything else, he got nervous. “is that a no? did i just make this weird? i definitely did, didn’t i?”
now it was your turn to laugh. “no, no, it’s fine. um, i would like to go on a date with you, really.” his face lights up but then dims again at your next words. “i just–i just don’t want to be your rebound from elle.”
“i can promise you right now, that is far from what you are. elle is in the past, i promise. i really like you, and i’ve just been too much of an idiot to see it. but you are not a rebound, y/n.”
“really?” he nodded. “because i really like you, marco. like, a lot.” you laugh and so does he.
he reached across the table and took your hand in his. “well that’s good to know.”
you watched as your hands intertwined, his hand squeezing yours lightly and you smiled. you looked back up at him.
“so yes, i would love to go out with you.” you said with a grin.
“perfect.” he whispered, leaning in.
you smiled and turned your head at the last moment, so that his lips touched your cheek. you felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin and he kissed your cheek again.
“physics first.” you said when he pulled away. “we do still have a test you know.”
you slid your finished flash cards over to him and he bit his lip, shaking his head. he took them, glancing over at you again.
“since when are you all about the work?” he asked.
“since we’ve almost failed every single one of our labs and need a good grade on this test.” you said teasingly.
“touché.” marco said, tuning back to his work.
but as soon as that last definition was memorized, marco took you by the hand, leading you to the doorway from the kitchen to the living room where a mistletoe hung. the peñas had decorated the house for christmas together but you could guarantee that this one had been marco’s idea.
you could only smile as he cupped your face in his hands, leaning down to meet your lips. you stop on your tiptoes to meet him in the middle and when your lips touched you felt the butterflies burst in your stomach. this boy you’ve had a crush on liked you back and now you were kissing him under the mistletoe. the thought made you smile and marco noticed.
“what’s got you so smiley?” he murmurs against your lips.
“marco peña is kissing me.” you said in response and pressed another kiss to his lips. “what’s not to smile about?”
a/n: idk about y’all but the best friendships for me came out of science labs, they are so funny for some reason.
taglist: @devilishdior @write-from-the-heart @minnyvees @lover1307 @sonnyalice @caro1115 @psg-for-life @mansaaay @thebookwormlife
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kaznejis · 4 years
Text
We’re on the borderline- Marco Peña x Reader
Oneshot: Marco and Y/N are in a relationship- but what happens when Marco begins to pull away in favour of Elle?
Word count: 3,295
A/N: Title is a lyric from ‘borderline’ by tame impala! Enjoy :)
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Things had started to happen. You had noticed it, of course you had. But your relationship with Marco had too many foundations built from trust and love for silly attributes like less intimacy and cancelled plans to take any form of a toll.
It couldn’t have began on a more convenient day either- you had been mad at your boyfriend. That kind of anger that twisted in the pits of your belly and made you want to tear your hair out. 
“You’re joking?”
“No.” Marco shrugged, placing his tray down onto the table as you moved to sit opposite him, “I’m not.”
“You’re taking part in a-” You paused and ran your hands over your face, “You’re taking part in a kissing booth?”
“Yes, that’s what I said.”
“Are you forgetting something Marco?”
Marco looked up from his food then, one eyebrow raised as he twirled one of his curls around his index finger, “What?”
“Me?” You huffed out an incredulous laugh, almost embarrassed of the fact that you had to have this conversation with your own boyfriend, “You know, the fact that you do actually have a girlfriend?”
“Babe,” Marco began, sighing as he reached across the table to intertwine your fingers with his, “You know it doesn’t mean anything? You’re the one I’m going home to in the end.”
You batted his hands away, “One, you know I hate when you call me that and two have you lost your mind? You seriously think I’m just going to be filled with joy at the thought of you kissing hundreds of other girls?”
“It’s for charity?” Marco inputted almost guiltily, “And I have too, I lost an arcade game to Elle Evans which means I have no choice but to take part.”
You scoffed at the mention of Elle’s name, Rachel had spent countless nights complaining to the girl about you both over the phone and in person- from what you could tell the girl had little to no boundaries and couldn’t see outside of her own bubble. If that wasn’t enough to make you grimace at the mention of her name, the fact that she had openly thirsted over your boyfriend over the intercom just a number of days prior sent a swirl of fury into the pit of your stomach.
“Why were you even with her? You know what people say about her Mar.”
“She came up to me,” Marco defended, holding up his hands in an act, “And, hey, she’s actually a cool girl if you get to know her.”
“Whatever,” You cleared up your rubbish and finished up with the last of your food, “Hey I’m gonna head down to the library to do some studying before class.”
“Nerd,” Marco grinned before standing up next to you and pulling you into a kiss, “We’ll talk about this later. I love you.”
“I love you too.” You smiled- feeling instantly at ease in Marco’s arms as he stroked a stray hair away from your forehead, “Come over later?”
“‘Course.”
You pulled away then, sharing one last smile as you retreated towards the exit to the cafeteria. You watched as Marco lowered himself back into his seat and Lee Flynn sped towards his table brandishing a pair of crutches. What could he want?
-
You didn’t see much of Marco for the remainder of the school day and you didn’t have any form of conversation with him until later that night. You were curled up in bed wearing a set of comfy pajamas with some music playing in the background, you decided to shoot Marco a text since he hadn’t made any point of making use of your invitation earlier.
You (19:34): Hey are you still coming over tonight?
You didn’t receive a reply until around 20 minutes later- and the words displayed on the screen caused you to furrow your eyebrows slightly.
Mar <3 (19:56): Hey, sorry can’t tonight something came up- will come over tomorrow though.
Sighing, you switched your phone screen off and turned to switch your tv on, may as well make use of the silence. Though, before you could make any move to do so your phone began to vibrate beside you; displaying the words “Rachel”.
“Hey what’s up?”
“I see Elle has begun to take away your time with Marco too.”
“What?” You sat up in bed, pressing the phone closer to your ear, “What are you talking about Rachel?”
“Oh god,” Rachel whispered, obviously assuming you knew what she was talking about, “Um, well- Lee told me that Marco had replaced him in helping Elle win this weird dance competition thing or whatever.”
“Weird Competition- Rachel I have no idea what you mean.”
“Basically, Lee and Elle were taking part in a dance competition revolving around that arcade game they always play,” You knew the one, Marco had recently beat the high score, “Well Lee fell of the machine or something, I don’t know he won’t tell me the full story, so today he convinced Marco to take his place and work with Elle.”
You scrubbed at your eyes with your fingers, trying to grasp the situation. “You have got to be joking.”
“I’m really sorry Y/N.”
“It’s fine, I had to find out somehow.”
“Hey,” Rachel said sternly, “Stop with the mopey voice. Honestly? There’s probably nothing to worry about, Marco is obsessed with you- anybody could see that from a mile away.”
“Thanks Rachel...well at least you have time to be with Lee now.”
“Yeah,” She laughed, “I didn’t mean for it to affect you though, I’ll have to talk to him.”
“You do that,” You laughed with matched enthusiasm, “I’m going to go- I’ll update you if anything happens.”
“You better.”
After a few more giggles between you two- you said your goodbyes. Despite Rachel’s reassurance, you laid in bed that night with an uncomfortable feeling in your gut. You really didn’t like this.
-
The next morning you greeted Lee and Rachel as they pulled into the car park- they both wore matching grins as they sauntered towards you with their hands clasped together.
“Hey Y/N!” They both greeted enthusiastically, swinging their hands between them.
“You guys look happy.” You beamed as you leaned into the greeting hugs they both offered you.
“We are going on a date tonight,” Rachel sang, looking up at Lee with a look that could only be described as fond as she did.
“Yep,” Lee cut in, “I’m taking her to the new drive-in since my car was literally made for that kind of thing.”
“That sounds lovely,” You said excitedly, almost jumping on the spot with awe at the couple. Even so, you felt a tad bit sad at the thought of Marco rejecting your plans for Elle last night.  
The two must have noticed your change in mood as Rachel moved towards you and squeezed your shoulder, “Heard from Marco?”
“No,” You replied dejectedly, supplying her with a sad smile, “I haven’t.”
“I’m really sorry,” Lee mourned, chewing on his lip as he stared at you, “I just wanted to have time with Rachel. I didn’t realise doing so would affect you too.”
“Hey, hey,” You shook your head, ruffling Lee’s hair, “It’s okay. You guys need time alone and maybe a little bit of distance will be a positive thing,” You attempted to convince yourself, “The competition’s weeks away which means I’ll have him all to myself until then.”
“About that,” Lee grimaced as he scratched the back of his neck in a nervous manner, “This is, like, really important to Elle. So important that she wants to have rehearsals pretty much every day in preparation for the competition.”
Screwing your eyes shut, you blew out a breath and willed your eyes to stop watering at the news, “God, why can’t she stick to her own boyfriend.” You snorted wetly, turning as you pressed the palms of your hands to your face.
“Well, he’s kind of across the country-”
“I don’t care!” You snapped, spinning towards the couple causing them to recoil, “If she has a boyfriend she should work on her own issues instead of leeching onto others.”
Rachel pressed a hand to her mouth as she physically willed herself to stop laughing, but Lee looked almost angry, “Y/N I think you’re forgetting that we’re talking about my best friend here.”
“Yeah? Well tell her to fuck off.” You snapped again before turning towards your car and unlocking it.
“Y/N? Y/N!” Rachel called as she jogged after you, Lee having gone towards the school entrance now, “Calm down. It’ll be okay.”
“Sure.” You huffed, wiping your face as you climbed into your car, “Because my boyfriend keeping me in the dark about all this is just splendid.”
“It’s not ideal, I know.” She reached into the car and grabbed your free hand, “But you need to come into school before we’re late.”
“I’m not going,” You let go of her hand and slammed the door shut, “I don’t want to see Marco right now.”
“Y/N-” But before she could say anything else you were already driving out of the parking lot.
-
Curled up in bed an hour later, you realised that you probably had been a little overdramatic. Though, you had every right to be! Marco had deliberately not told you about the fact that he would be hanging out with Elle for the next month and to add onto that he was also taking part in a kissing booth. You groaned into your pillow and listened as the discarded phone beside you once again began to buzz. Becoming annoyed by the relentless noise, you picked up the phone to see who was calling you now. Surprise filled you as ‘Mar <3’ filled the screen. The call ended before you could answer, giving you a view of the texts that filled your lock screen.
Mar <3 (9:34): Hey where are you??
Rachel (9:43): Hope you’re okay and got home safe. Marco’s worried about you if it makes you feel any better ;)
Lee (9:46): Sorry about earlier, you know me and Elle are close.
Mar <3 (9:48): Y/N what’s going on? Rachel won’t tell me what’s happened.
Mar <3 (9:51): Sweetheart??
Smiling sadly, you read through about 20 different texts from Marco that entailed the same kind of theme. Looking at the time, you noted that Marco would be on break right now. So you sucked up your pride and called him. Of course, he picked up immediately.
“Y/N is that you? What’s happening? I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine.” You replied slowly, your voice devoid of emotion, “I didn’t want to come in today.”
“What?” Marco replied sounding baffled, “I’m really worried now, this is so unlike you.”
You shook your head, tapping your fingers against your phone case, “Yeah, well it’s unlike you to keep secrets from me.”
“Secrets? What?”
“Elle. The competition. Rehearsals,” You listed, “Why would you keep all that from me?”
“What? Me and Elle are just friends.”
“Well why would you keep this from me? What do you have to hide Marco?
“Nothing!” Marco sounded desperate, “There is nothing going on. Believe me.”
You sighed loudly, “Alright. I believe you Mar.”
“Thank god,” He sighed too, though his sounded almost relieved, “I love you Y/N. Nobody else.”
“I love you too.” You whispered into the receiver.
“Good.” You could practically hear Marco’s grin through the phone, “Let’s go out tonight, we’ll have a nice dinner with no distractions or responsibilities.”
“I would love that.” You blushed, chewing on your already-raw lips, “The usual place at 6?”
“The usual place at 6.”
-
At 5:45, you settled onto a bench outside of the restaurant- adorning a dark blue summer dress and black flats. You were surprised to see that Marco wasn’t already outside of the restaurant, your boyfriend had a tendency to be early to dates out of nerves and enthusiasm. You had always found it adorable.
At 6, there was still no sign of Marco. You weren’t worried though as he was probably just running late. The LA traffic was considerably busier that night- yeah, he was probably just stuck in traffic. You decided to busy yourself with a game on your phone whilst you awaited his arrival.
At 6:30, dread and horror began to seize you as you realised that you had in fact been stood up. The worker standing by the door was beginning to send you pitiful looks. Swearing, you gathered up your belongings and began the trek to the nearest bus stop as you were expecting to go to Marco’s house after the date.
“Y/N!” You turned, being met with the sight of Marco running down the street in a red shirt and sweatpants.
“No way.” You mumbled angrily, turning to make a hasty getaway. Your boyfriend reached you before you could.
“I am so sorry,” He panted, grabbing onto your shoulders and making direct eye contact, “I was with Elle and we completely lost track of time. I'm so sorry.”
“Of course you were,” You nodded as you wiped a few stray tears, “You left me sitting here so you could play arcade games with another girl all night.”
“Y/N-”
“Don’t.” You were sobbing now, out of pure embarrassment and shame, “I’m going home.”
“Please Y/N, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
-
You ran right back into his arms, of course you did. Nevertheless, he didn’t get any better. Dates went from happening at least twice a week to once a fortnight as he stood you up at almost every one. You guys stopped talking apart from a few texts a day. You were devastated as you watched the person you loved choose Elle Evans before you time and time again. So, as anyone else in this situation would, you decided to let him go.
“Hey,” Marco smiled as he let you in and smacked a wet kiss onto your cheek, “I was just about to invite you over actually as I’m free today.”
“Oh, cool.” You pursed your lips, unable to look Marco in the eye, “I actually came to talk to you about something.”
“Okay.” Marco closed the door and walked towards you, “What’s up?”
“I-” You began, staring down at the floor as you mustered up the courage to say what needed to be said, “I love you, okay?”
“I love you too.”
“No, Marco. I think-” You paused, feeling a few tears roll down your cheeks as you began to cry, “I think we should break up.”
“What?” Marco spoke quietly, his eyes also began to fill with glossy tears, “Why?”
“You never have time for me Marco. We barely talk or spend time together, it feels like we aren’t even together anymore.”
“No Y/N please. I’ll change and I’ll be better to you. I’ll make up any lost time. Please don’t.” He began to sob, his eyes wide as he begged you to stay.
“I’m sorry, you’ve already said that and nothing has changed.”
“Please,” Marco begged as he sunk to his knees, “What did I do wrong?”
“Elle happened.” You closed your eyes, turning away from him, “You’ve been blowing me off for her for weeks now how could you not realise?”
“Oh god.” He moaned, wiping the tears from his face, “I didn’t even notice, I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry Marco,” You sobbed, walking towards the door, “But we need this break.”
-
“So you really did it, huh?” Rachel handed you a mug of hot chocolate and rubbed your arm comfortingly.
“Yeah,” You sniffed, sipping the hot chocolate slowly and allowing it to fill the cold within.
“It’ll get better, I promise- knowing the two of you you’ll probably be back together within the week.”
“Probably.” You laughed wetly, dabbing the corners of your eyes with the hoodie you had stolen from Marco months ago. A knock sounded at the door before Rachel could reply.
“Wonder who that is,” She inquired, to which you shrugged at numbly. You were not interested in talking to anyone else right now.
“Is Y/N here?” You heard Elle’s shrill voice at the door to which you tipped your head back and groaned at. Seriously?
“Hello Elle.” You grumbled as she stormed into the room, her face flushed red and determined.
“You have to take Marco back.”
“Excuse me?”
“He has been a mess this whole week since you broke up with him Y/N. It’s really sad to watch.”
“Sure he is.” You snorted at the thought of Marco even missing you, you were surprised him and Elle hadn’t immediately gotten together.
“He really is,” Elle replied with determination, “He started crying the other day and spilled about everything...I’m really sorry.”
Your heart broke at the thought of Marco being genuinely sad, it seemed that he had been feeling exactly the same as you since the breakup. You had been in bits the last week; getting barely any sleep and having a considerable lack of appetite. That’s how you had ended up at Rachel’s craving some form of affection that Marco had not been there to provide you before and since the breakup.
“It’s okay,” You sighed as you placed the half-finished mug on the table beside you and chewed your nail, “You couldn’t have known.”
“I’m working on being more aware,” Elle smiled and lowered herself onto the couch beside you, “Will you give him another chance though?”
You sighed and looked over at the girl beside you, a sad smile covering your face, “I don’t know Elle.”
“Listen to me,” Elle turned towards you and grasped your hands, “He is so in love with you and would die for another chance with you. You’re the love of his life and it would be sad if such a beautiful relationship ended like that.”
“She’s right.” Rachel cut in from the entrance to the room, “And you’re just as much a mess without him as he is without you.”
“Alright.” You smiled at both of the girls, “I’ll go over tonight.”
-
Hugging the hoodie tighter against yourself, you waited for someone to answer the door. After a moment or two, Marco pulled open the door and shock painted his face as soon as his eyes landed upon you. Elle hadn’t lied, Marco looked like shit- black bags sunk beneath his eyes and his skin was uncharacteristically pale.
“Hey.” You gulped, chewing on your lip harshly, “Can I come in?”
“Yeah.” Marco croaked, stepping aside so you could enter. You walked into the familiar house and beelined towards the couch and watched as Marco followed you, a sad but guarded look covered his features.
“You want a drink?” He asked, standing awkwardly in front of you as he turned his wrinkled shirt.
“No, I’m okay,” You mumbled, “I wanted to talk to you about-”
“I love you.”
Your head shot up and your mouth dropped, you stared at the boy before you with glistening eyes as he slowly made his way towards you, “W-what?”
“I love you Y/N. I never stopped loving you and if you could give me a second chance-”
It was your turn to cut him off as you lunged forwards and coaxed him into a passionate kiss filled with love, longing and passion, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” You cried as you pressed kiss after kiss upon his gorgeous face, “I missed you”
He pulled back then and stared into your eyes, cupping your cheeks and smiling so widely that a set of crinkles tugged at the corners of his eyes, “I missed you too. So much.”
-
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922 notes · View notes
jeonsblackgf-writes · 3 years
Text
BULLSHIT || 2 ||
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summary: marco and lani had been friends since the womb but when occurring lies happen from one best friend to another, things are bound to fall apart.
pairing: marco peña x black!OC
genre: angst
word count: 1.7k
_____________________________________________🖊
If someone told Lani that she and Marco would have had the worst fall out of their lives she would have laughed in their face. She would have told them that'll never happen because what she and Marco had was something worth keeping...now she's starting to wonder if that's true or not.
Lani stopped counting the days they were apart because there was no use anymore after she literally watched Elle and Marco kiss on national television just few days after finding out that she was being blown off because of some dancing game competition since Lee couldn't do it. She had managed to become a pro at dodging Marco. She knew his schedule just like he knew hers, so she left class a few minutes early or left class later than usual just to avoid him. She kept her guard up for the entire time, and it hadn't failed her once. She just couldn't bear to see his face... not now. She knew what she was doing probably wasn't rational, but it was time for her to start thinking about her own feelings and not others, especially Marco's. She had spent the past few years standing by his side, taking the racist bullcrap from his previous girlfriends without a word because she never wanted Marco's judgement about them to change. Now her judgement about him was changing. She never knew him as the type to fall for someone who was already taken, but what does she know...he stopped telling her things.
The worst slap in the face for her was two weeks after her outburst on him, she saw him with another female having the time of his life. Her heart dropped because he used to smile at her the same way he's smiling at her. So much for being remorseful.
"You can't avoid him forever Lani." Kammy sighed as she watched her friend survey the halls for the certain dark haired boy. Lani huffed, and slumped her shoulders.
"I know, but I don't want to see him right now. Not after he lied to me, kissed Elle, and got cozy with another female." She mumbled, going to her locker, but stopping once she saw him standing right there, searching the crowd of students for her. She widened her eyes and immediately grabbed Kammy's hand and went in the other direction hoping he didn't see them.
"Why did you do that? That was your chance to speak with him." Kammy hissed, watching Marco's frantic figure behind her.
"Well I don't fucking want to!" Lani hissed, sharply turning away from kammy to get to class, leaving her in the hall.
Kammy sighed and pull out her phone to send a quick message.
To Marco: Just go, she won't come.
She placed her phone back in her pocket and followed her friend down the long hall, finally catching up to her right before she got in the elevator.
"Look," Kammy sighed, "I love you, and I didn't mean to make you upset back there, but I just don't want 18 years of friendship to go down the drain. You guys have literally been attached at the hip since birth. You're gonna let that go because of some girl?"
"When me and him started high school, we made a pact to always tell each other everything and to never lie because we know how much high school can change a person. We grabbed a piece of glass and cut the palm of our hands and made a blood pact to make it official." Lani explained quietly, showing her friend the long scar on her hand. Kammy gasped and rubbed the rough feeling of it. She didn't have anything to say so she just let Lani speak.
"I never wanted to let us go...but he gave me no choice when he lied and put his feelings over mine." Lani whispered, right before the elevator chimed. She walked out and ran right into the person that caused all this mess in the first place....Elle.
"Lani...would it be okay if we spoke for a minute?" She asked, redness showing up on her cheeks. Lani scrunched her face up and pushed Elle out of her way so she could get to class but the brunette was persistent, she grabbed Lani's arm and gave her pleading eyes.
"What could we possibly talk about? You got Marco what else do you want? My soul?" She spoke sarcastically, snatching her arm away. Elle sighed.
"I know you guys have been best friends for a really long time, longer than Lee and I. He isn't the same without you and he won't stop talking about you, he regrets everything." Elle explained, almost desperately, but Lani didn't know if she wanted to hear it or not.
"I bet he didn't regret kissing your ass that night. Everyone in this school knew about my feelings for him, even you, yet you still kissed him on tv for millions to see while your boyfriend was sitting in the crowd. I'd be surprised if he still wanted you after that shit." Lani hissed, with no ounce of sarcasm. She watched as Elle stood staring at her awkwardly with wide eyes.
It wasn't just the situation with elle, it was the situation with every female, whether or not they were Marco's girlfriends. It was just a constant shit show when it came to her, and she never had time fir herself because she was so invested in being his bestfriend...the guy she made a blood pact with, the guy she promised to go to the same college with. She had always wanted more but he had always kept her around as some sort of unofficial wing woman and she had always wanted to be something else.
"Lani please...talk to him." Kammy pleaded.
"I need more time, I really don't know what to tell you." She sighed, about to turn around but the sound of Marco's voice made her freeze in her tracks. She snapped her neck towards Kammy and rapidly took her hand, "We have to go! NOW!"
Kammy shook her head disapprovingly, and stood her ground. "You have to stop running! It hasn't done you any good but make you even more depressed."
Lani sighed and glared at Elle as she turned to see the frantic eyes of her almost ex best friend. Giving the two time along, Elle and Kammy went their separate ways on opposite ends of the hall, meanwhile Lani fully turned to Marco to see nothing but desperate and pleading eyes.
"You aren't gonna say anything? You just gone stare?" Lani asked, wanting the conversation to be over with already. She was already late for class, she didn't want another reason to be upset today.
Marco sighed, realizing how hard this was now that she was willing to speak with him, "I-I'm sorry, and yes I know it's been long overdue, but I've had time to reflect--"
"Well I'm gonna need more time." Lani spat at him, weariness in her voice. Marco visibly frowned at the sight of her trying not to cry.
"Please, I'm walking out on a limb here talking to you. We've been best friends since forever, please don't throw it all down the drain because of a small mistake I did. I miss you, I swear it and I know when you see me when the hall, you think I don't miss you but I do and I think about you every single day. That day when you told me you were in love with me, it made me realize something much more bigger than us being best friends." He damn near cried, but she still wasn't convinced. Lani needed actions not words.
"A small mistake? You still don't get it..so let me break it down to you...yes I am still in love with you, I don't think I'll ever stop but I won't be a fool to your games ANYMORE. You knew I had a soft spot for you and you always took advantage of that! I was there for you through so much and was always there when one of your little racist ass girlfriends left when shit got tough. I invested my life into making sure you were happy and you never did the same for me! I sacrificed myself SO DAMN MUCH, and for what? Just to be shit on in the end! This one situation with Elle isn't the first one but it's sure as hell the last one...y-you kissed her...you kissed her just a week after you knew my feelings for you and I don't think I'll ever forget that. I gave you up on purpose, not because I don't care but because you didn't." She cried, trying not to raise her voice since she was in the hall and later as hell for class.
"What can I do? Just tell me what to do and I'll do it." He pleaded, grabbing both her hands within his, tears streaming down his face but Lani pulled away from him and stepped back a few steps. He knew her next words, but he was praying to god she didn't say it.
"I want you go give me time to myself and stay the hell away from me! That's all I ask." She mumbled as she looked at the ground, wiping her tears from her face.
"You know me well enough to know that I'm not gonna leave you alone. You're crazy to even think that!" He protested, almost bellowing in the hallway. Lani sighed and shook her head.
"Why? Why won't you leave me the FUCK alone?" She croaked, her voice cracking.
"Because I'm in love with you too, and I need to fix this!"
Lani gasped. Hearing his next several words made her heart jump but this isn't the way she wanted to hear a confession. Marco searched for something within her eyes but the only thing he was getting was pure shock and disbelief.
"I'm gonna go home. Lose my number Marco seriously. " She spoke barely above a whisper before waking away from him and going down the opposite end of the hallway. Marco watched as she continued to walk until she hit the corner. He sighed, as he knew she was going to skip the rest of her class for the day and go home to sleep.
"What the fuck am I gonna do now?" He whispered to himself, his breathe becoming heavier as he tried not to cry. Suddenly, an idea sprang in his head, making him smile. He ran to class with the thought on his mind.
——————————————————————————-
tag list: @mansaaay
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xoxoavenger · 10 months
Text
Wildest Dreams
pairing: Marco Peña x Fem!Reader
summary: Say you'll see me again Even if it's just (pretend, just pretend) in your wildest dreams
word count: 2937
warnings: I made the characters all in college bc high school grosses me out, mentions of sex, cheating
1989 masterlist main masterlist
When Marco came to LACD, it was clear that he was a hot commodity. But it was also clear that he was more interested in the flirting than the actual getting together. To every rule, however, there was an exception.
Y/N liked to think of herself as an exception, but if she was being honest she knows that it barely counts. They're not dating. They're not together.
But waking up next to him in the hotel in San Diego tells her something completely different.
He wanted to get away, to be free from the gawking eyes at school from being new or being, as Elle so graciously announced, a 'snack.' So, he told Y/N to pack clothes and picked her up before class. She should have known then that Marco had planned something, that he never picked her up for class as to ward off rumors that were already running rampant through LACD. So she couldn't exactly say that she was surprised when Marco drove right past the school exit.
"Where are we going?" She asked, looking over to him as he drove. She wished she could say she had gotten used to his jawline, his curls, the way his shirts hugged the muscles of his biceps, but she knew by now that his looks was something she would never get over. Her heart skipped a beat every time he looked at her.
"It's a surprise." He turns to her with his 'heart-break' smile, and she tries not to melt. From his smile before he turns back to he road, it's obvious she was in a puddle on the seat.
"What are you doing, Marco?" She asks, leaning over to put her head on his shoulder. It was uncomfortable over the center console, but when he turned and kissed the top of her head, she knew it was worth it. He reached over and grabbed her hand from her lap, the brush of his fingertips on her thigh making her heart race.
Back in the present, she watched Marco's eyelids flicker before he slowly opened his eyes, then closed them and pulled the arm he had around her tight. She giggled quietly as she slid across the bed and into his arms.
"Marco," She whispers, but he moves his body to be practically covering hers now and kisses the top of her head before snuggling back into the mattress.
"Shhh," He slurs, his body going slack once more. "I didn't get us a nice hotel for you to wake up at dawn." She lets him go back to sleep, running her fingers through his hair and kissing his head.
"What if," She starts, feeling him shuffle against her in annoyance. "We do something much more fun than sleeping." She feels him go stiff against her, and she actually laughs when he puts both arms around her and pulls her up and against his lips. She opens her mouth to remind him that she hasn't brushed her teeth, but he takes this as an invitation.
He puts a hand behind her neck and shifts to move completely on top of her, the arm behind her back holding him up.
This is going to kill her. Marco Peña is going to kill her.
~
"Still coming over tonight?" Y/N asks lowly as Marco opens his locker, right next to hers. It's how they met in the first place.
"Tonight?" He asks, pausing for a second. She shuts her locker and turns to him, where he's partially blocked by his own locker.
"Yes," She checks her watch just to make sure she's not the one who's confused. "It's Wednesday." Every Wednesday her dad was always gone pulling a double shift, so they had the place to themselves. And she hadn't seen Marco after school in awhile, but she also hasn't had time to ask him about it.
"Shit," His head falls, chin dipping into his chest as his curls fall into his face. His lips are in a tight line.
"What?" She asks. She can't see him, but she can tell he's not moving so she slams his locker closed.
"I, uh," He shakes his head and looks over to her, guilt clouding his face. It makes her angry, the fact that he's about to ditch her.
"Marco," She starts, ready to talk him out of whatever he's doing. It has to do with why he's blown her off every day this week. He's always nice about it, but she still feels hurt. He's told her he'll make it up to her, though, so she's holding out hope.
"Listen, I have to help Elle with something." He starts, and she simply blinks at his sorry excuse.
"Elle Evans?" Y/N remembers Elle from the first week of classes, when she broadcasted to the entire school how hot she thought Marco was. Y/N had thought that she was dating Noah, who was a year older than them, but perhaps they had broken up.
"I'll make it up to you I promise." It's exactly what he's been saying for days, which pisses her off to no end.
"Sure." She smiles with thin lips and nods, turning and walking away. It's clear she's not happy with him.
"Y/N, wait!" He yells through the hall, which only makes her walk faster.
"Marco, hey!" Elle is next to him in a second, blocking his path as he tries to catch up with Y/N, who is rapidly disappearing from view.
"Elle, I've gotta go," He pushes past her, feeling bad but not bad enough to stop himself.
"Just real quick," She grabs his arm to stop him, and he's never wanted to hit a girl until this moment.
"I really have to-"
"I think we should pull a double tonight." She's smiling, and Marco knows she's hoping he'll agree since he already agreed to the ridiculous schedule, but he feels no remorse as he shakes his head.
"I actually can't come on Wednesdays." He tells her, and Elle looks shocked.
"What?" She has the audacity to look pissed, and Marco tries not to roll his eyes. "You said you would help, you promised-"
"I need my own time and Wednesdays are important to me." He doesn't allow her to get in his way again, just goes around her and follows where he hoped Y/N went, since she's long gone even with his height advantage.
"Marco!" He hears Elle call, but he doesn't turn, just pushes through students going to class. He turns down corridors and runs through people, but he can't find her. It's almost like she disappeared. So, he takes out his phone and texts her, knowing that there's now way she blocked him that quickly.
see u tonight at 5
It's not long before she texts back.
thought u had plans.
He winces at the use of a period, clearly indicating she was pissed off.
i told u i'd make it up to u, didn't i???
that u did see u at 5
He smiles, glad he's figured it out. Elle is blowing up his phone, but he tucks it away as he heads for class. He'll deal with his partner later.
~
For weeks, Marco keeps his promise to both girls. He practices with Elle, even on weekends which annoys the shit out of Y/N. He doesn't practice at all on Wednesday to be with Y/N, which annoys the shit out of Elle. And he no longer has any free time, which annoys the shit out of Marco. So everyone is annoyed, but everyone is happy.
Except they all get less and less happy the longer this arrangement goes on.
Elle is confused because she starts to have feelings for Marco but she's dating Noah still, but God Marco's hands on her waist and their chests heaving together as they dance and the smiles they share - it's not all in her head, she knows.
Y/N is confused because she's starting to realize that more and more people are asking her about Marco, and she simultaneously figures out that she does like Marco more than just fuck buddies. But she has no idea how Marco feels about it, and she's terrified to ask him, so she pretends it's fine when he kisses her to sleep on Wednesdays.
Marco is confused because he doesn't know what he wants. Elle has a boyfriend, and Y/N doesn't think of him as more than a fuck buddie, so he doesn't know what to do. All he can do is continue his arrangement with both girls and hope for the best.
"You're coming to my competition this Saturday, right?" Marco asks as they lay in her bed. She's cuddled into his side, him running a hand up and down her back as he stares at the ceiling.
"What competition?" She asks, causing him to freeze. "I'm joking. Of course I'm coming. I would never miss it." She mutters eyes closing as she starts to fall asleep.
"Have you heard what people are saying?" Marco speaks softly, and her eyes open wide as she realizes exactly what he's about to say. "About us?" She thinks about lying for a second, but she can't bring herself to. She knows that they need to talk about it, and he brought it up anyway.
"Yeah." She brings her hand up to rub against his chest, causing him to continue his movement against her back. "What do you think?" She whispers, scared to talk too loud.
"I think people have nothing better to do than start rumors." His response makes her deflate a bit, sad that he didn't bring up anything about their relationship.
"I thought we left that to the teenagers." She mutters with a small laugh.
"Yeah." He agrees, and she closes her eyes once more, trying to soothe her racing heart. "What do you think?" He says it so softly she almost doesn't hear it.
"About the rumors?" She's buying time, knowing that she doesn't want to speak. She feels him nod, so she takes a deep breath. "I think most of the time, people start rumors based on what they see." She stops moving her hand and keeps her eyes closed, breathing regulated to not give away the fast beating of her heart.
"I agree." He finally says, which makes her stiffen.
"Okay." She whispers, wide awake now.
"I want to do this the right way." He tells her, and she's not sure what that means, but it sounds good. "So, after my competition, we'll talk more. Is that okay?" She's not sure why he wants to wait until this weekend, but she nods anyway and falls asleep contently against him.
~
Ironically enough, she ends up sitting next to Noah Flynn at the competition. And although she usually doesn't talk to strangers, she's too hopped up on nerves for Marco to keep quiet.
"Are you Elle's boyfriend?" She asks, even though she knows exactly who Noah is. He smiles politely.
"I am. Came to surprise her." She awes and he nods, his smile a little more genuine.
"I'm Y/N." She introduces, and his eyes widen in recognition.
"You're Marco's girlfriend." She opens her mouth to correct him, but she doesn't, because she doesn't want to explain it all now.
And she kinda likes the way it sounds.
They watch the entire thing, Marco and Elle at the end of their program. They exchange comments, snuffing their laugher behind their hands. It turns out, Noah is actually a cool dude, despite all the rumors from high school.
When Marco and Elle are called out, they cheer, sitting up and getting ready. Marco hadn't let her see the routine before it started, no matter how much she begged, so when the music started, her heart jumped with excitement.
And then it dropped.
The way Elle and Marco looked at each other, the way he held her, their smiles as everyone cheered, it hurt. The whole time she tried to cheer, push it away and replay her and Marco's conversation from Wednesday. But his reluctance to confess then, his insistence that they wait until after the competition came back to haunt her.
She plasters on a smile and cheers, smiling along with Noah as the song comes to a close, the two pressed close. Y/N knows what's happening before it happens, and she tenses as Elle wraps her arms around Marco's neck and kisses him.
She feels sick.
Noah is already up on her left, so she follows him out the door, tears flowing out of her eyes against her will. She feels stupid, stupid for thinking they could work, for thinking he liked her. She's so deep in her thoughts that she runs straight into Noah.
"Do you need a ride?" He's asking, voice rough with hurt. She thinks about how she came here with Marco, him insisting on driving her so she wouldn't be late. She almost regrets coming here, regrets knowing about the kiss. But would not knowing be better? She can't tell.
"Yeah." Her voice isn't much better, but Noah just nods and takes her to his car. They wordlessly get in, Noah starting the car but not driving.
"I can't believe," She starts, shaking her head and not continuing. She's not sure how Noah feels now, but she can't go off on his girlfriend now. Plus, Marco is at fault as well. It takes two...
"What a piece of shit," Noah says, as if Marco had forced Elle into it. "Sorry," He looks over to her, and she shrugs.
"You're not wrong." She looks out the window as Noah reluctantly pulls out, almost as if he had been waiting for Elle to come find him. But she didn't, so he peels out.
"Where do you wanna go?" He asks, and she takes a deep breath.
"Crest Drive." She tells him, feeling the tears fall freely. She tries not to sniffle, but she doesn't want snot running down her face.
"I'm sorry." Noah says, breaking the silence. They're almost to her house, and she just shakes her head.
"We actually," She turns to him, wiping her eyes. "He's not even my boyfriend. We fucked around, and I got feelings, and he told me he would make it official after this competition, but clearly that was a lie." She laughs with no humor, shaking her head.
"Shit," Noah says, and she turns to him as he pulls onto her road.
"It's the one on the corner down there." She tells him, then takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry." She doesn't know what else to say, and he just nods as he pulls up.
"Take care." He tells her as she opens the door. She nods as she gets out.
"Thanks for the ride." She smiles, waving and unlocking her door. When she's finally alone, she slides down the wall, tears falling as she begins to sob.
She was so stupid. Of course Marco could only be her's in her dreams.
~
She gets seven calls from Marco before he shows up at her door.
"Please, just let me talk!" He begs as he knocks on her door. She acts like she's not there, thankful her dad wasn't home as well. He eventually leaves, and she cries some more.
Marco can't sleep. All his dreams are of her. And yeah, he usually has dreams of her, but these are different. They become less like wet dreams and a lot more like what he wants in life. He wakes up with her in his arms. And the worst part is, they're taken from his memories. They're real things he lived through and they make him regret kissing Elle even more than he already did. He swears that sometimes, right before he wakes up, he can feel her breath on his chest, her hands gripping his biceps, her hair tickling his neck. He can see her face so clearly it's like she's with him, her lips full and kiss-bitten, her eyes hooded but clear in a way that always entranced him, because how could she be clear headed when he felt like his body was about to explode?
He almost chokes on air when she actual answers his millionth call of the day.
"Please stop." She's not begging, but he can hear the hurt in her voice. It makes him sick to his stomach.
"I'm so sorry, I don't know why I did that-"
"Do you remember that fancy dinner you took me to?" She asks, and he's struck dumb for a moment. He remembers the deep blue dress she wore, the immaculate way her hair was styled, her makeup, the way her nails, painted to match the dress, scratched down his back that night. He remembers every single second of that night, because that was their one and only actual date. He remembers the simple necklace, the way it nestled between her boobs, the way he couldn't take his eyes off her.
"Yeah," His throat is dry as he imagines her the way she was that night, waiting for him in lobby, looking out the windows so the sun framed her body like a painting. He remembers how conflicted he was, wanting to take her dress off but wanting to keep it on at the same time, enjoying the way it framed her body so perfectly.
"Remember me like that, Marco." It's almost a bittersweet tone she's got, and he can imagine the smile she's sporting while tears fall out her eyes. Before he can answer, the telltale beeping noise that he despises sounds from his phone, and he curses as he looks down to see she's hung up on him.
When he calls again, the line doesn't even ring.
//
tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler
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eusuntgratie · 5 months
Text
wip wednesday 1.24.24
well i stayed up too late and now its wednesday, so here's a bit of an elliott lefevre (chambers) x marco peña (the kissing booth 2 & 3) something. i'm not sure what to tell you. there was art and @lostcol enabled me.
“Shit,” Marco mutters as he walks up the pristine sidewalk to his new school. It looks like… well it doesn’t look like any school he’s ever gone to. He snaps a picture and sends it to his sister with “this is some serious rich people shit,” before he walks into the shiny new building.  He heads to the counselor’s office where a too-friendly white man with long hair wearing a thin tshirt and jeans introduces himself as Coach Jones despite not coaching any sports and gives him a rather baffling introduction to Crystal Valley, finally wrapping up when there’s a knock on the door.  “And that leads us to phase two of your onboarding process,” he says before calling, “come in!” A bored looking white boy with long shaggy hair and bags under his eyes leans against the doorframe. He's wearing an odd floral print button up shirt that's too big on him. He's got the top several buttons undone. He looks like he’d rather walk into traffic than come further into the office. Marco watches as the counselor gives him a strange, intense look before announcing, “this is Elliott, your transitional partner! He’ll show you around, help you ease into life at Crystal Valley.”
no pressure tagging @lostcol @bigassbowlingballhead @winderlylandchime @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @anincompletelist @nocoastposts @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @magicandarchery @ninzied
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Taylor Zakhar Perez Gif Pack
In this gif pack, you will find #302 gifs (245 x 160 px), roleplayable gifs of Taylor Zakhar Perez (b. 1992). Taylor is an American actor of Mexican, Middle Eastern (unspecified), and white (Croatian/Hungarian) descent (source). The following gifs are from his roles as Marco Peña in The Kissing Booth 2 (2020).
Please like/reblog if you have used this gif pack. Thank you.
All gifs are created by me for roleplay purposes only.
If you edit any of these gifs, you MUST give me credit and leave the watermark. (@ me if posting)
No gifs should be used for gif icons.
DO NOT ADD TO A GIF HUNT!
trigger/content warning: flashing lights
⟶ GIF PAGE LINK IN SOURCE
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avenging-fandoms · 4 years
Note
Dancing with Marco
“you know, i didn’t think you could get anymore beautiful, yet under this moonlight..” marco trailed off and held your chin, bringing your face close to his, a smirk playing on his lips. “you’re the most beautiful girl in the world” you smile, breaking the space and kissing him. 
you pulled away, laying your head on his shoulder as you both watch the moon sparkle on the ocean water. marco’s head snapped up, startling you of your peace. “what is the matter with you? you scared the shit out of- marco?” he took your hand and pulled you up, taking you to the pier. 
a jazz band was playing one of marco’s favorite songs, ‘can’t help falling in love’ by elvis presley. he took your hand, the other holding your hip. you smile, holding onto his shoulder as you two slow dance in a circle. 
“wise.. men.. say..” marco started to sing and you smiled, laying your head on his chest. “only fools rush in” he tilted your head up to look at him so he could sing the next line. “but i.. can’t.. help.. falling in love.. with... you” you smile, marco kissing you passionately as you two spun. “i love you, yn”
“i.. i love you too, marco” he laughs, nudging his nose against yours and kissing you again, holding your face and slowly spinning in a circle. you two finish slow dancing to the song, then picking up the pace of the dance when the band started to play ‘blue suede shoes’
a crowd started to form around you and marco, but you didn’t care. you two felt like the only two people in the world, and you were only focused on marco’s eyes and his smile. every time he smiled, you fell in love all over again. 
ñ
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misomeru · 4 years
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nomtterwhere · 4 years
Text
silent treatment || marco peña x reader
request: @mansaaay requested “Jealous or mad marco which leads to silent treatment?”
summary: a friendly game on a rainy day gone bad
warnings: not much, gets a little spicy towards the end, but no smut
word count: 2203
you and marco are in his room, you sitting in the chair at his desk and him sitting up on his bed. you had planned on going to the river today to have a picnic, but when you woke up that morning it was downpouring. it was supposed to rain for a while, so the two of you had just been hanging out at marco’s house, trying to figure out ways to keep yourselves occupied until it stopped.
“time!” you call out as the timer on your phone went off.
you open your eyes and look at your picture, laughing out loud.
“marco, i am genuinely so sorry about this.” you manage through your laughter.
“oh god, not again.”
one of the games you had come up with was like pictionary, except harder. each of you picked a card with an object on it and you had to draw a picture of that object with your eyes closed in thirty seconds. then you showed it to each other and if the other person could guess what it was, they got a point.
the game had proven to be harder than you had originally thought, considering you have been playing for almost an hour and the score was only 3 to 5. (a lot of that time was spent guessing and then fighting over who got the point) you were winning, of course.
you hold yours up and marco’s eyes widen. “um...” he tilts his head, as if that’ll help. “a sailboat?”
you shake your head, turning the paper and looking at it yourself. “are you kidding me? that looks nothing like a sailboat.”
“it doesn’t look like much of anything!” he exclaims. “hang on, bring it here.”
you get up and walk over to his bed, sitting cross legged in front of him and hold out the picture to him.
he takes it from you, holding it closer and starts laughing. “y/n, what the actual hell.”
you feign offense even though you knew it was terrible. “i did my best! come on, you have two more guesses, make good use of them.”
“okay,” he squints. “is it a plane?”
you give him a look. “are you even trying?”
“i am! it’s not my fault you suck at drawing!” he ducks as you swing a pillow at his head and gives you a smile.
“okay, okay.” he lays the paper down in front of him and studies it, his hands folded underneath his chin.
you roll your eyes, knowing he was only doing so to mock you.
“a car!” he says, looking up at you.
you shake your head, holding up your card. “it’s a tractor!” you take your picture from him, holding it up. “see, these are the wheels and see how the front is bigger than the back? i really don’t see how you got sailboat from this.”
“why is that even an option?” marco complains. “car, tractor, is there really a difference? they both have wheels.”
you softly pat his cheek. “don’t be a sore loser. now come on, let’s see yours.”
he groans. “mine is too easy.” but he hands it over nonetheless.
you smile, looking at the obvious depiction on the piece of paper. “a dog!”
“absolutely unfair. how come you get to guess all the easy ones and i get ones like tractor and velociraptor?”
you laugh at him. “because the universe knows what it wants. and what it wants is for me to win.”
“or because you’re cheating.” he says, raising an eyebrow.
you let out a dramatic gasp, placing a hand over your heart. “how dare you accuse me of such a crime? i would never.”
“you know, now that i think about it. you were the one to pick the cards for each round.” marco speculates, collecting the sheets of paper spread out on his bed.
he walks over to the trash bin in his room, dumping the papers inside.
“i hope you’re going to put those in the recycling bin later.” you say as he comes back over to you.
“yes, of course. i just don’t feel like going downstairs right now.” he wraps his arms around your waist and wiggles his way into your embrace.
you lean back on the bed, adjusting so his body was on top of yours, your arms around his shoulders.
he buried his head in your stomach, placing soft kisses on the exposed skin from where your shirt had ridden up.
you ran your fingers along his bare back, tracing a random pattern as you went. every once in a while, you would lightly scratch his skin, then gently rub it with your thumb and listen as he sighed against your stomach.
“you wanna play another round?” you say after a while.
“are you gonna cheat this time?” marco’s response came muffled.
you run a hand through his hair, tugging slightly. “you can pick out the cards for us if it’ll make you feel better.”
he picks his head up with a grin. “then let’s do it.” he reaches up and you lean down, giving him a quick kiss.
he whines when you pull away and tightens his arms around your center.
“i’m gonna need a longer kiss than that if you want to get up.” he closes his eyes again.
you laugh, but cup his cheeks and bring him in for a longer kiss. he hums against your lips, clearly pleased as he slips his tongue in. your mouths moved together in a familiar rhythm, slowly, as if trying to memorize each other. and you get that feeling you always do when you kiss him, a constant reminder of how much you love him. that is, until:
“still a cheater.” he mumbles against your lips.
“oh, shut up.” you push at his shoulders until he releases you, falling into his back beside you as he laughs.
you get up and grab the box with the object cards on them, bringing it over to marco.
“alright, let’s do this.” you toss it onto the bed.
“this is how someone who doesn’t cheat do it, for future reference.” he says, making a big show of putting a hand over his eyes and reaching into the box with his other arm.
he pulls out two cards and hands one to you with a grin.
“this is the last one. whoever wins this round wins the whole game.”
you watch as he sits up, glancing at his own card. “you’re just saying that because you’re losing.”
he looks up at you with a shrug. “whatever my reasons are, the terms still stand.”
you go back to his desk, grabbing a pen and two sheets of paper, handing marco one of the sheets. you decide to stay on the floor, not wanting to walk back to his desk.
“can you set the timer?” you situate yourself on the ground, laying in your stomach.
“yup.” marco’s voice came from above you.
you take this opportunity to finally glance at your card and grin when you see ‘giraffe.’ no matter how great you did, there was no way that was going to be the word that would pop into his head.
“okay, i’m ready!”
“alright...go!” he says and you close your eyes and start drawing.
and contrary to what others may think, you really did try. you thought you got the outline of the giraffe down and maybe messed up a little on the spots. but when the thirty seconds were up and you looked at your drawing, you couldn’t even tell if it was an animal.
you laugh aloud and marco groans, knowing what that sound means.
“you are definitely doing this on purpose, no one is this bad at drawing.” he says when he sees your finished product.
“hey! i tried really hard!” you defend your terrible drawing.
but he was right, it did look like you were cheating considering how awful the majority of your drawings came out.
marco shakes his head and looks up at you. “i have no idea, just tell me.”
you smile up at him from the floor. “you don’t even want to guess?”
guessing by the look he gave you, you were going to go with no.
“it’s a giraffe!”
he stares at you and then looks at your drawing, then back at you. “you’re kidding.”
“alright well let’s see yours then, picasso.” you hold out your hand for his drawing.
you study it for a moment, whatever it is, it’s big. he has one big circle as an outline and you could tell he tried to draw details inside of it but you couldn’t tell what they were supposed to be.
but you saw some squiggles drawn on the sides and assumed it was meant to be water so:
“a whale?” you guess and marco grins.
“nope.”
he looked so smug even though you still had two guesses left. and you were determined wipe that look of of his face.
you turn your attention a back to the picture, looking at the shape once again. it had to be something under water, unless those lines he drew were just to throw you off. you look at the circles drawn and realize they’re meant to be windows.
“is it a submarine?” you look up with a smile.
marco’s jaw drops and he grabs the paper from your hand.
“how on earth did you guess that? in what world does anyone ever guess submarine?”
you take the paper back from him. “uh, when the drawing looks like a submarine.” you hold up the drawing. “i win!”
“you cheated.” marco laid back down on his bed, folding an arm over his eyes.
“i did not. you even picked the cards, there was no way i could have known yours.” he didn’t respond. “marco?” still no response.
you stand up from the floor, gathering the papers you used and tossing them out. you look over at marco who is still laying on his bed, completely silent.
“so now you’re not talking to me?” nothing.
“you are such a child, you know that?” he only shifts of his bed.
“this is how children act. they don’t get their way and they throw a little fit just like this.” you gesture towards him.
he lifts his arm to glance at you for a moment and the places it back on his face, ignoring you once again.
you knew he could hold out for a while when he got like this, but you were already bored and wanted to be bored together. and you couldn’t do that if he was ignoring you. so you decided to speed up the process.
“marco.” you test the waters and he still doesn’t respond. “mar-co.” you sing song, walking towards the bed.
you sit next to him, leaning forward to try and peek underneath his arm. “marco, my love.”
he didn’t move but you saw the smile forming on his face and knew you were breaking him. so you take it a step further.
you get on top of him, straddling his waist and placing your hands on his bare chest. you trail your fingers down his chest, purposefully tracing his abs painstakingly slow.
marco lets out a groan, his hands move to grip your thighs, holding on to you tightly.
he opens his eyes and grins at you, shaking his head. “you play dirty.”
you drop a kiss on his chest. “according to you, it’s the only way i know how to play.”
he shakes his head and moves so he’s sitting up against his headboard, holding you in his lap. he leans forward, ducking his head into the crook of your neck.
“that’s because you were cheating. there is no reasonable excuse for how you messed up so much.” he says, as he trails his lips up and down your neck.
“i was blindfolded!” you say, then gasp as he nips at your skin.
one hand goes to the back his neck as he continues to tease your skin, a tingling feeling spreading through your body.
“yeah, so was i. and yet you managed to guess 7 of mine.” he murmurs and then looks at you, smiles, and kisses your lips.
he pulls you closer by the backs of your thighs, then moves his hands to your lower back, fingers creeping underneath your shirt.
you sigh as you feel his hand flatten against your bare back, then curl around to grab your waist. he squeezes lightly and you laugh into his mouth, your next kiss swallowing the sound.
“i’m still mad at you, you know.” he mumbles in between kisses.
you grin, pulling back for a moment. you rub your hands across his broad shoulders, watching as his eyes shut in relaxation.
“i’m sorry, baby. what can i do to make it up to you?”
his eyes open, and you can see them sparkle with mischief. he flips the two fo you over so he’s hovering above you and brings his lips right by your ear.
“oh, i have a few ideas.” he whispers before capturing your lips in another kiss.
alright, so maybe the silent treatment wasn’t such a bad thing...
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