#i'm not risking my arm to help the guy who chewed up my bike once

[anormalkidingotham]

sometimes living in gotham is scary and dangerous but then sometimes you see king shark crying in an empty alley because he got half a car door stuck between his teeth and can't get it out without help

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ A LOT OF WORK TO DO ❜

with Marcus Álvarez.

Request: What about Marcus tryna set one of the Mayans up with reader, but she likes Marcus so she says no but doesn't give a reason, then eventually she admits she only has eyes for him??

BY @chibsytelford

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 2.3k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author, I found it on Google.

Masterlist.

“I think you are his type, Coco”. Marcus says, making the crew break into laughs.

“Nah, Padrino, we're just friends”.

“You're the only one which she goes around, hermano”. Angel adds clicking his tongue, before having a sip from his drink. “(Y/N) has been working here for the last year, and we don't know if she's ever had a single boyfriend”.

“Maybe sh—”.

“Believe me, she's not”. Bishop shakes his head laughing, stopping as soon as you come into the clubhouse.

“What's that funny?” You say, noticing the silent installed between all the Mayans.

“We think that… Coco and you should have a formal… date”. Marcus says, having a drag from his cig.

Licking your lips while you take off your bag to place it over the bar, you turn at him somewhat frowned. Rubbing your eyes with two fingers and a snort stuck on your throat, you cross both arms on your chest. You're a little tired of having to hear bullshit like that, plus, that they don't understand that between men and women could exist a healthy friendship.

“He's just my friend”.

“I said so, mami”.

“Look, we just say it for your good, mija, don't be angry”.

“For my good, stop talking 'bout shit you don't know, trying to push me into every fucking man that comes by that door. Because, surprise! Maybe I'm already in love with someone else, since the day I met him, but he's so, so, so fucking dumb that he hasn't noticed it yet”. Their mouths drop to the floor with widened eyes. “I could fucking wear a poster saying it and, even then, he wouldn't notice”.

Now, you're pissed off by Marcus' attitude. You were fine with the idea of not being the kind of girl he wants by her side. Maybe too young, maybe too curious, maybe too energetic. But seeing him trying to push you into another man gets you out of your calm. Frowning at them and making sure they're not going to say anything else, you just nod before crossing the hallway to your room, so you can change your clothes to start working at the scrapping.

Once that you're ready you step out from the dorm, tying your hair on a high pony-tail and keeping your rings inside a pocket. When you're back in the bar, you find some of Vicki's girls already there, hanging with the guys. But who gets your attention is that bitch that is always around Marcus, trying to catch the opportunity, now sitting on his lap and laughing at his shit.

“Look at you, Padrino, you're the one who never loses time”. You say with a bitter and sarcastic tone of voice, confusing him as you were waiting for.

Leading your steps towards the main office, greeting Chuckie with a gentle hug, you begin your work. It's too hot outside and having to do an inventory of the new cars that came during the last month, you decided to wear your black cap on your way to the last rows of scrap. You can't avoid thinking once and again about what happened some minutes ago, trying to not imagine that maybe it's not the first time the crew has that conversation. Marcus looked so participative that it's starting to hurt you somehow. Shaking your head, you start to write down the license plates and car models, in addition to the color.

Placing the notebook under your arm, you have a sip from the bottle of water, resting your back against a car in the shade. Bowing your head down, closing your eyes for a second, you hear a throat being cleared close to you. His scent is so unmistakable that you don't need to look at him to know who is.

“How can I help you, Padrino?” You ask, raising your opened eyes towards him.

“We didn't want to bother you, mija”.

“If this is an apology… Cool, I don't need'et”. You just reply pursing your lips.

“We were kidding”.

“It didn't seem like”. You're trying to keep calm, standing up to continue with your task, so you can go back to the office.

“I assumed it's one of us”. Stopping dead your steps, you turn around with a raised eyebrow.

“Déjalo, ¿sí? No voy a platicar contigo de ello”. (Forget it, okay? I'm not going to talk with you about it).

“Así que se trata de mí”. (So it's about me). He can't help but chuckle, placing his hands tangled under his abdomen.

Narrowing your eyes with your heart about to dead, you give him your back sighing, writing down the numbers from a red Mustang almost destroyed.

“Maybe I noticed something, but I thought it was just an illusion. So I didn't care”. With that confession, Marcus gets your attention. “When you know I'm coming, you use that perfume that smells like heaven”.

“I use it everyday”.

“No, you don't”. He laughs somewhat loud, feeling your cheeks burning. “Because when you don't know that I'm coming, you don't use it. And when you walk around me, I notice it. And that really fucks me up, because I love that smell”.

“Mere coincidence”.

“C'mon, reina. You can't lie to me”. He's walking closer in the meantime that he speaks, stopping him with a corner of your notebook pressing his chest.

“I have work to do, Padrino”. You just say, not knowing why the hell you don't jump into him. “As soon as I finish, as soon as I can leave”.

“Good, but you didn't say ‘no’”.

“'Bout what?”

“About that it's me who you are in love with”.

“Work. To. Do. Padrino”. You repeat, pointing his chest this time.

“Don't worry. I am going to be waiting for you at the office, until you finish your ‘work to do’”.

You have been praying all the prayers you know, going upstairs, to not find Marcus there. Talking about your feelings is something you're not used to, and less with someone like him, who looks like he's about to shoot you or something like that. Opening the door, you can sigh alleviated when you notice that it's empty, just like the bathroom. Taking off the cap and rubbing your forehead with the back of your left hand, you leave the notebook over the desk.

“DID YOU FINISH?”

The scream behind you makes you, literally, jump. You turn at him, throwing your cap straight to El Padrino. But you get a little self-absorbed hearing his laugh, a childish one. That laugh is so natural that bristles your skin and gives you some chills.

“Pinche cabrón…” (Fucking asshole). You mumble, frowning.

“Did you finish, or not?”

“You're so fucking annoying…”

“C'mon… You like to have my attention, don't you?”

“Jeez, stop”. You almost sob covering your face with both hands.

“Not until you accept to have a date with me”. He says chuckling yet, grabbing your wrists looking for your eyes. “You, me, my bike, the road, some mexican food… I think it's a good plan”.

“Okay…” You just say wrinkling your nose ashamed, without being able to believe that it is really happening.

“You don't sound excited, reina”.

“I'm trying to not die because of my nerves”.

“Good, work on that! I will pick you up tonight, if you are still alive, of course”.

No, you weren't expecting him to take you to a restaurant. He doesn't look like that kind of man, and you're more basic than that. And he finds out that you preferred that date, than another, when he sees the happy look installed on your face carrying a box full of different tacos. Sitting on a picnic table, you open it, to place it between both over the wood. You're really hungry and that food smells so good, that you can't wait to have a small piece from one of them under his eyes and a funny smile on his lips.

“Why didn't you tell me anything?” Marcus asks you, offering you a beer and having a sip from his.

“You always have… that shitty face scaring the shit outta me”. You smirk, trying to not laugh while finally grabbing a taco with a napkin under it, to not stain your clothes if something falls from it.

“I do—”. He can't help but chuckle without finishing talking, shaking his head.

“Oh, look at me, ‘El Padrino’!”. You tease him with a high-pitched voice, having a bite from your food. He laughs again and you're falling a little more every time he does it.

“I have an imagen to maintain”. Looking at him with both eyebrows raised, chewing your food with your mouth closed, the man bites his taco pretending that he doesn't enjoy that facet of rude man.

“For sure, macho alfa”. You chuckle spreading some lime over the taco in your hand. “So, why didn't you? Why didn't you… tell me anything?”

“The age? The distance? The risk?” Marcus asks leaning slightly over the table, without taking off his eyes from you. “I thought I was going crazy, until I noticed that thing you do with your perfume”.

“I don—”.

“Don't try to lie to me again, reina”.

“Maybe I did something”. You finally recognize, pursing your lips a little ashamed.

“Más sabe el diablo por viejo, que por diablo”. (This old dog knows all the tricks). He laughs nodding, seeing you licking your bottom lip after catching you.

“So… now what?” Having a sip from your beer, you ask with feigned innocence.

“I have to come back tomorrow to Oaktown, but I think I will be here next Monday”.

Nodding and grabbing another taco, giving it a bite in silence, you place your gaze on it. Knowing that you're having a good dinner but that he's going to leave again, makes you feel a little insecure about the fact that he could think about it being separated from you, and take the decision that it's better if you're not related. All these time falling in love more every day, for nothing. You also know that in Oakland still living his ex-wife and that's an added problem, because they have a good relationship. And you don't want it to change, but, what if after this night he sees that it's better to come back with her?

All these paranoias are oppressing your chest, keeping in mind that anything of these things wouldn't have to happen. That it's only inside your head. His hand getting tangled with your free, brings you back to reality, drawing a fleeting smile on your lips because of his unexpected caresses on the back of it with his thumb.

“I will be more time here, so I will see you often”. He just says, being somewhat aware of what's happening inside you.

“That sounds… good”. You recognize then, hoping that it's really true.

On your way back home, your arms are surrounding tightly his waist, as if you didn't want him to leave. And actually, you don't want to. More afraid of not coming back to you, that getting hurt for a dispute with someone. Your cheek is resting against his back, closing your eyes and focusing your senses on the buzz the engine produces, and on his scent, totally enraptured. But very much to your regret, the road comes to an end, reaching your destination. Parking the bike on the sidewalk in front of your house, you jump out from his bike, taking off the helmet a little cheerlessly. Leaving a soft sigh escaping from your lips, you purse them turning at your home for a second, while he gets up from the motorcycle.

“I live there…” You say, looking for an excuse to extend the evening.

“Yes, I know”. He chuckles taking off his helmet too, and placing both over the seat, watching him brushing his messed hair with three fingers.

“What time are you leaving?”

“In five hours, I think. We have like nine hours of road ahead”.

“Shit… and I'm here distracting you”. You whisper, rubbing your forehead. “Go to sleep, I wouldn't like to hear that you had an accident because you were tired”.

“I'm used to”. He just says, before placing both hands on your neck, leaning forward to kiss you.

And you know you're about to die, running out of air tangling your fingers in the folds of his jacket. His lips are moving so slow that it's a pleasant torture for you, tasting them as if you had all the time in the world to do it. You couldn't get tired of kissing him. Not now that you finally are doing it. His tongue settles itself among your lips, finding yours, as you push him closer with a soft plaintive moan drowning into his mouth. You really love Marcus, and now you're more scared than never. Pulling himself away from you, but leaving one last kiss in your cheek, you can't help but hug him. Sinking your nose into his neck, the mexican gently caresses your hair.

“I promise I will be back on Monday. And the first thing I will do it's come to see you and make it up to you, for being so far”.

“I hope so”. You mutter. “If I have waited for a year, I can wait for some more days… But come back, please”.

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