Don’t marry him, marry me
Marcus Flint x Reader
Summary: it’s been twenty years since you last saw one another, in a pub in Camden of all places. You’re engaged, you have a life - but no one’s ever made you feel like he did at sixteen.
Warnings: angst, smut, death
You found yourself in a pub. It was small; quaint even, but no less quiet. It was blustering, people gathering and packing into the room to watch the World Cup. You don’t even know where you are, Liverpool? London, maybe. You just got on a train. “D’ya want a drink duck?” The man in front asked you, a few teeth missing and balding on the top, stone island badge firmly displayed on his jacket. “I doubt you’ll be able to get to the bar unscathed is all” he says “can you get me a Guinness?” You almost shout, handing him a few quid. He nods then passes the drink back, as you shout a thank you and try find an empty seat.
You’d managed to find a rogue chair, and placed yourself on it, angled so you could see the small TV hung at the top of the bar. To be fair, you weren’t even paying attention. “Is this seat taken?” You hear a voice close enough to your ear to recognise the person was taking to you. “No, mate!” You reply, turning to look at the John Doe to give him a nod, but when your eyes met his everything seemed to stop.
“Do I know you?” He asks before you can, now sat in the chair. “Dunno.” You reply, eyes directed back at the tv. “You were in my potions class” he said and you give him a confused look. “Don’t know what you’re on about.” Then he said your name. Again, you ignored him.
“Sorry, must be thinking of someone else” he mumbled, crossing his arms and sinking into his chair. “And Divination” you mutter as you purse your lips. He shoots upright and looks at you. “Yeah, with that crazy old bat” and for the first time in a long time, you laugh. “Remember she said we’d get married” he said and your laugh lessened to a hum “yeah I do.” You nod, looking at the tele again to see nothing had changed.
“How’ve you been?” He asked “I’m alive aren’t I?” You ask and he nods “so are you” you tell him. “I mean, what’ve you been doing all these years” “you mean since the war?” You ask and his eyes falter. “Yeah” “moved away. got a degree. Got a job.” You say, shrugging “a muggle job?” He asked and you scoffed “yes” “doing what?” “Im a lawyer” you tell him “the ministry of magic-” “Marcus I left that life behind.” You cut him off.
“I have a life now, I’m free” “but are you happy?” He asked “wow we haven’t see each other in twenty years and you’re giving me a therapy session” you roll your eyes. “..are you?” “Yeah. Look Marcus go home to your wife and kids. Apparate there.” You said. “I don’t have a wife and kids” and silence ensues for a moment.
“Do you want to move to a booth, it’s quieter?” He suggests and you don’t know why you go with him. “Do you live here now?” He asks “I don’t even know where I am. I got on a train” you said honestly, messing with your glass. “You’re in Camden” “no then” you tell him.
“Are you married?” He asks and you laugh “I’m engaged.” You say, pulling the ring out of your pocket “to an accountant” you say, and Marcus caught a bit of regret in your voice “called Matthew.” You hum, putting the ring back in your pocket. “Shouldn’t that be on your finger?” He asks “I don’t think I’m going to go through with it” you say simply and he doesn’t pry. “Who dreams of being swept off their feet by an accountant?” He jokes and you laugh, properly.
“Go on then, what are you up to?” You ask, turning to him properly now and getting a good look at him. “Im an Auror now. After the war everything just fell apart” he said “I thought that’s what you wanted to do” he continues “things change, Mark” “you changed.” He said “you didn’t even know me.”
“What about that time I carried you home after a party?” He asks “or that one time you fell asleep on me so i slept in the common room with you. We even made out under the quidditch stand-” “you got the dark mark, Marcus.” You stop him. He just pulls up his sleeve and shows you a full blacked out arm, a faint outline over the mark but seemingly scribbled over harshly to make it undefinable. “I changed sides, love. You know that” “my brothers dead” “I didn’t kill him.” He say, quickly. “No. Your father did” “and then I killed him.” Marcus tells you and you both sit in silence for a minute.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks “I’d like that”
He returns a moment later with your drinks, and moves a bit closer to you, to see the screen he says. “Are you happy?” He asks “no.” You reply “this Matthew guy?” “A total nobody. He’s an arsehole.” You say, laughing slightly. “What am I doing with my life?” You ask, throwing your head back in disbelief.
“I wish you’d known me before all of this happened.”
He said, honestly. “The real me. Not the death eater, not the dark mark. Just me” he continues. “I don’t mind getting to know you again” you honestly tell him. “Really?” “What’ve I got to lose? I’ve got a pretty dead end job, with an accountant fiancée and I’m three hours away from home with a guy I almost dated at school” you huff “y’know I was really in love with you” he admits, and you turn to him “well sometimes we lose people because we over love them”.
“Come back” he says “what?” “To magic.” You think for a minute “got an Auror job opening, and an empty spot in my bed if you want to give it a go.” “What?” “Not like that, I mean. Stay a while if you need, get back on your feet.” You take a swig of your drink. “Thought you were offering me a shag then.” You sigh, a slight smirk on your face “no, no-” he notices your expression “I could be.” He says shortly.
“I’ve changed, since everything.” He says, his drink suddenly becoming unappealing. “To be fair, I should’ve asked you out when we were at school.” “Why didn’t you?” “I was scared, I hadn’t have my teeth fixed yet, I knew war was coming” “I didn’t even notice your teeth had changed” you said, looking at him with a squint “yeah you were good at not noticing the bad in people.”
“I have two choices.” You say “I get up, I get on a train. I go home to my fiancée and raise a business man or something” you say “or, we go back to mine, your throw your ring in the Thames and you leave nothing behind and come back to everything” he fills in the gap for you.
“Where’s your flat?” You ask as he grins, grasping your hand and pulling you out the pub so hard you through he was going to rip your arm off. This was stupid. This was immature and it was the best decision you could possibly make. It was what younger you would have done.
“Wait wait” you say, stopping on the bridge and he turns to look at you with furrowed brows. You take the ring from your pocket and throw it as far as you can, watching it glisten in the musky streetlights until it sinks. “What am I doing?” You ask him “putting yourself first for once in your fucking life, love.”
You got back to his place and you don’t know whether it was the alcohol or the fact that this was an event years overdue, but you ripped each others clothes off as though God had begged you to repopulate the earth. Maybe it was the fact you’d always fancied one another, or the fact that there was never a true sexual spark between you or Matthew that satisfied that primal itch inside of you.
He kissed you like a man starved, having you naked within minutes of getting you through the door. He’d walked you backwards, prompting you to lay down when you got to his bed, the memory foam enclosing around you as you settled into heaven. He ate you like a death row prisoner, mouth and hands working simultaneously as your hands threaded through his hair, pushing him further into your throbbing cunt as his nose bumped against your clit. He looked up at you as your back arched off the bed, drinking you up as you gave the begging man his meal.
His first stroke into you was heavenly, seemingly matching up like some flesh shaped jigsaw puzzle as he reiteratively hit a pleasant spot on every thrust. He couldn’t let you go on top, he had to; needed to see your face as you came undone under him, over and over again, crying out for his neighbours to hear as his arms entrapped you under him. You felt whole.
He pulled out to cum all over your torso, watching as white streaks decorated your figure, sticky love covering your breasts as it reflected in the moonlight, watching your chests unanimously heave as he collapsed next to you. “Why did we wait so long to do that?” You asked, breathless “fucking worth waiting for” he told you, turning to face you. “Stay the night?” He asked “yeah I’ll stay” “fuck stay your whole life. Don’t marry him, marry me” he says “are you serious?” “Deadly. I watched you walk away once I can’t do it again” he says
“Do you fancy a bath?” He asks a moment later “yeah go on then.” “What? A bath or marriage?” “Yes”
