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summary . . . You though you'd never hear your boyfriend sing a Lana Del Rey song, until you heard him humming it one afternoon
request . . . yes!! based on this request!
word count . . . 1.2k+
warnings . . . none!
faceclaim . . . N/A
alexavia yaps . . . dni i love this sm <33 anyhow might publish like two more fics before i die
taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @httpsdana (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)
. . . The apartment was unusually quiet that afternoon, except for the occasional soft clink of dishes from the kitchen and the faint hum of the air conditioning.
You were curled up on the couch, legs tucked under a blanket, flipping through your phone but not paying much attention to anything on the screen.
Pepe had been in the kitchen for a while, moving around in that half distracted way he always did when he was deep in thought, or hungry.
You could just barely see him over the counter, his hair falling messily over his forehead as he stared into the fridge like it might reveal some grand secret.
"You’re going to burn a hole into that yogurt carton if you keep staring at it like that," you teased, finally breaking the silence.
Pepe turned his head, raising a brow. "I’m trying to figure out if it’s expired."
"It’s yogurt, not a time bomb. Just open it and smell."
"That’s disgusting."
"Oh, I’m disgusting?" You smirked, leaning your chin on your palm as you watched him. "You’ve eaten mystery leftovers before without hesitation. Yogurt is the least of your problems."
Pepe rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the little smile tugging at his lips. He finally grabbed the yogurt and a spoon, muttering something in Spanish under his breath as he set it on the counter.
"What was that?" you asked, narrowing your eyes playfully.
"Nothing," he replied quickly, though the way his shoulders shook with a stifled laugh said otherwise.
The soft homely feeling of the moment made you smile to yourself. It was so normal, the kind of quiet afternoon you didn’t realize you loved so much until it was happening.
No chaos, no noise. Just Pepe’s soft presence, the golden sun filtering through the blinds, and the occasional sound of him muttering about questionable fridge items.
And then, out of nowhere, you heard it. The humming.
At first, you weren’t even sure you’d heard right. It was so faint that it blended into the background noise, but as the seconds ticked by, the sound became clearer.
A melody.
You paused, tilting your head slightly as your ears strained to catch it. There was no mistaking it. Pepe was humming a tune, soft and slow, almost absentminded as he grabbed a bag of chips. And the more you listened, the more familiar it became.
Lana Del Rey.
A grin spread across your face as you recognized 'Video Games', and you couldn’t help the quiet laugh that bubbled up. Pepe Marti, humming Lana? You couldn’t have made this up if you tried.
That’s when you called out to him, unable to let this moment pass.
"Pepe," you called casually, trying to keep your voice neutral.
"Hm?" he hummed absentmindedly, his back still to you.
"Are you… humming Lana Del Rey right now?"
The noise stopped immediately. You could see the exact moment he froze, the crinkle of the chip bag pausing midair. Slowly, so slowly, he turned his head to look at you, his face a mixture of confusion and guilt.
"No," he lied, far too quickly.
"Oh my god," you snorted, sitting up on the couch. "You were! You were humming Video Games! Are you a Lana fan, Pepe?"
His cheeks flushed instantly, a light pink tint crawling up to his ears as he set the chips down on the counter, avoiding your eyes. "I wasn’t humming anything," he mumbled, voice soft but defensive.
"Oh, don’t even try to deny it," you teased, already grinning as you swung your legs over the couch. "What’s next? Are you gonna admit you secretly cry to Summertime Sadness?"
Pepe groaned, dragging a hand down his face as he turned fully to face you. "You’re so dramatic," he said, though the embarrassed smile he was trying to hide gave him away.
"Me? Dramatic?" You pointed at him. "I just caught you humming one of the most iconic girly songs of all time. Pepe Marti, you have layers. I’m impressed."
He sighed, shaking his head as he walked toward you. "You’re making a big deal out of nothing," he grumbled, though you could tell he wasn’t actually upset, more flustered than anything. "It’s just catchy, okay?"
"‘It’s just catchy,’" you mimicked in an exaggerated voice, biting back another laugh. "Come on, don’t act like you don’t know all the lyrics."
"I don’t!"
"Oh, really? Then why don’t you finish the verse for me? It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you-"
Pepe’s eyes widened in panic as you started singing dramatically, trying, and failing, not to laugh as you pointed at him. "Stop," he groaned, but his smile betrayed him.
"-everything I do," you continued, drawing out the words and watching his face redden further. "Tell you all the time…Heaven is a place on Earth with you!"
"Okay, okay!" Pepe finally caved, grabbing one of the couch pillows and lightly tossing it at you to shut you up. "Fine! I like the song, happy?"
Your laughter filled the room as you hugged the pillow to your chest triumphantly. "I knew it!" you declared, beaming at him. "Honestly, you’ve got good taste, Marti. Lana is a vibe. You’re just a little softie, huh?"
Pepe rolled his eyes, but the small, sheepish smile on his lips was undeniable. "I am not a softie."
"Sure you aren’t, pretty boy," you teased, winking at him. "Next thing I know, you’re gonna tell me you’ve got a Lana playlist saved on Spotify."
There was a pause. Pepe hesitated, his expression suddenly shifting as if he’d been caught again.
You gasped. "No way."
"I don’t!" he insisted quickly, though the crack in his voice gave him away.
"Oh my god, you totally do!" You clutched the pillow tighter, dissolving into laughter as Pepe ran a hand through his hair, looking helpless.
"Stop teasing me," he muttered, though his smile lingered as he sat on the armrest of the couch.
"But it’s so easy when you’re like this!" You grinned up at him, the playfulness in your voice softening as you noticed the warmth in his eyes; the way he looked at you, equal parts embarrassed and endeared.
"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, leaning down just enough to flick your forehead lightly. "You’re the worst, you know that?"
"And yet, here you are," you shot back smugly.
He didn’t reply immediately, but he watched you with that soft, boyish look, one that made the teasing air crackle with something sweeter. His voice dropped just a bit.
"Yeah, here I am," he said quietly, his lips twitching into something softer than a smirk.
The moment lingered longer than you expected, the teasing quieting as his eyes stayed locked on yours. He looked so ridiculously fond, like he couldn’t believe you were real. It was enough to make your heart thud a little harder.
You broke the silence first, covering up the butterflies. "Your secret's safe with me." you teased, pushing his arm lightly, "Anyway, don’t start humming Young and Beautiful next or I’m never letting you live it down."
Pepe groaned, standing up to head back toward the kitchen. "Good," he muttered, though you swore you heard him quietly humming again, this time just loud enough for you to catch it.
—"cause maybe you'll finally choose me after you've had more time?" (backburner by niki)
pepe marti (f2) x gn!reader
warnings/notes: mild angst, university au, ollie is the ex-boyfriend, pepe is the rebound
a/n: i'm back! i've healed enough hopefully to come back to writing <3
You don't mean to do this to him.
You know he deserves better and that no amount of empty promises from you would truly appease him. You told him you weren't ready and that you just needed a warm body to sleep next to at night. Not your words, exactly, but he understood.
It never got easier, the guilt impossibly heavier every time you tell him you need him. But he's there and he's smiling, telling you it's okay and that he's happy to be whatever you need him to be.
Pepe tucks some of your hair behind your ear, laying a tender hand against your cheek.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" Pepe asks, running his thumb gently across the skin of your face, just below your eye. You're not crying, at least not yet, but Pepe had been there for nearly all your sobbing fits that it's just instinct for him at this point. To wipe away your tears, to make sure you're okay.
You shrug. "There's nothing to talk about. Just had a bad day."
Pepe nods, silently pulling you into a hug. You inhale his scent, boyish and mixed with the laundry detergent he and his roommate share on laundry days. His sheets smell like it, too. You know the smell well enough, having burrowed under Pepe's blanket nearly every night since you and your ex broke up.
"Did you see him today?" Pepe asks, pulling you further into the room, stopping only to maneuver you down onto his bed.
"Of course, I did. We have the same major and all the same classes," you say rather despondently.
You peer up at Pepe who's still standing, towering over you now that you're seated on his plush mattress. He smiles again, apologetic. Maybe he's sorry for you. Maybe he's sorry for himself.
"Do you wanna have dinner?" You ask, threading your fingers between Pepe's. You see his face light up and it almost hurts you, the way he doesn't know.
He doesn't know that you're only asking because you overheard Ollie tell Kimi that he'll be at that diner just outside campus with a couple of other friends. He doesn't know that the reason why you're so upset is because Ollie had his arm around another one of your classmates, a pretty blonde who you knew had a thing for your now ex-boyfriend ever since orientation days.
The words spring out of you before you can stop them.
"I was thinking we could get milkshakes at that diner just outside of campus," you suggest, pulling Pepe down to sit beside you.
He, of course, obliges. He always does. Pepe somehow doesn't know how or when to say no to you.
"Sure," Pepe easily agrees. He leans in and plants a soft kiss on your lips. You let out a sigh, a half giggle, mouth spreading into a grin when you feel him gently nudge you up the bed.
You let yourself get lost in his touch for a while, arms limp as he tugs your shirt off, your own fingers tracing the outlines of his bare chest after he tosses his sweater to the other side of the room. He's kissing down your neck now, and it feels good, feels right.
Your eyes close and suddenly, it's not Pepe who you're seeing. His tan skin is replaced with something fairer, lighter freckles smattered against his nose, almost red. His hair is curly and his accent is tinged with the barest of Italian inflection.
Ollie.
Your eyes fly open and you feel your body still, heart hammering against your chest. Pepe must feel the rigid reluctance from you as he stops, hand halfway behind your back, reaching for the clasp of your bra.
"You still with me?" Pepe asks, voice quiet. He pulls back to study your face, big brown eyes almost pleading as he looks at you.
Your heart rate evens out and you take a few seconds to look back at the face staring down at you.
Pepe.
Pepe is with you at this moment. His skin pressed against yours. His biceps shifting beneath your hands. It's Pepe that holds you now. Even if it's just for the rest of the night. Until you've decided you've had enough and you'd rather go back to stalking your ex's socials.
"Yeah," you whisper, cradling one side of Pepe's face. He leans against your palm, eyes fluttering shut as he revels in your touch.
