Fic: "An Unexpected Encounter" (Katie Bell/Marcus Flint, T)
Title: An Unexpected Encounter
Author/Artist:
katie_flint
Pairing(s): Katie Bell/Marcus Flint
Rating: T
Warning(s): N/A
Challenge(s): Prompt 04: Class for
mixandmatch100
Word count: 100x10
Summary: Marcus finds a certain Gryffindor chaser as he returns from practice one night. He should just ignore her, he knows this, but he can’t help himself... Not when it’s Katie Bell.
Notes: This was written thanks to a prompt from my gal pal across the sea, Rose, which I hope she likes, even though it's a bit basic (and it took forever haha). Or read on AO3.
Marcus finds Katie as he’s heading to the dungeons. She’s sitting on the stairwell steps and he’s only just getting in from a Quidditch practice that’s run late. Marcus wants to ignore her, really. After all, it’s frankly none of his business what she’s doing there, but Marcus can’t help himself.
“You shouldn’t be here, Bell.”
The question comes out more like a snarl because Marcus is tired and put out with his own lack of self-restraint. He should just leave the Gryffindor chaser here and be on his way. Merlin knows he’s in need of a good shower, not just for the stench wafting from him, but for his growing bruises as well.
“It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion,” She fires back and that, is definitely not a question.
That’s why Marcus likes Katie, he remembers. She’s a spitfire, on and off the field. A lot braver than most are dealing with someone like himself. Troll-blooded, he’s heard the Gryffindor first years whisper. Like hell. Most Flints can hardly even look at halfbloods. Fornicating with a troll would send one of them over the ever-loving edge.
Katie though, she wears Marcus the right way, most of the time. And he's never opposed when they lock brooms out on the field. It gives him an excuse to get close and personal with that firm body of hers. A welcome view if he's ever seen, (or felt), one.
Leaning in closer to sneer in Katie’s face, Marcus is surprised by the strong aroma of alcohol lacing her breath. He hadn't noticed before, exhausted and reeking himself. His eyes come alight with a devilish glee.
“Been drinking, Bell?” Marcus imagines he must look quite gruesome in this moment, but to her credit she doesn't flinch, “What would Captain Wood say?”
“He's can sod off,” Katie growls, leaning closer, perhaps to intimidate him, “And so can you, Flint.”
It only makes Marcus want to laugh, but he resists. If only because his sides ache from practice.
‘The little lioness had claws’, Marcus muses as Katie tries batting at him rather pitifully, clearly displeased by his mirth.
Marcus can't help himself then, laughing aloud at the uncoordinated assault, only making the inebriated girl crosser with him, “What’s the matter, have a spat with your lover?”
“You-” Katie reaches for her wand, but Marcus grabs her wrists firmly, hardly wanting to discover what damage she might cause in such a state.
“Oh come off it Bell, we’ve all seen the way you ogle him at practice,” Marcus heaves her against himself, pulling her up from the stairs as she fights to get free of him. Eventually he wins, but not without an admirable amount of resistance.
Despite this closeness, Marcus still can’t quite hear what she mumbles into his muddy uniform.
“What?” Marcus says dumbly.
“It’s not- Not Oliver,” There’s a blush on those already rosy cheeks. If not Wood…
Uncertain, but confident enough to play it off, a leer spreads wide across his lips, “Who then, Bell?-- Davises? Weasley?... Purdy?”
At Adrian’s name, the brunette makes such a face, Marcus’ thinks she might actually hurl on him, “Not him,- You.”
There’s silence in the stairwell, and Marcus suddenly feels closer to Katie than he ought be. If he lets her go, Marcus knows she’ll probably fall on her face.
He lets go anyway.
“Not funny, Bell,” Her name comes out sharper than he meant it to, but he doesn’t make any effort to correct himself. He doesn't know what- who- he was expecting, but not himself. Not that he's willing to admit.
Katie stumbles, falling into the wall. She looks at him, eyes filling with a sentiment Marcus can’t quite identify, and then her head falls suddenly, her hair consuming those blazing cheeks, "I think, I might have had a few shots too many..."
“Shite,” Marcus breathes shallowly, “...You think?”
He doesn't know what else to say.
Katie Bell, the enemy, has just admitted she fancies him; albeit unintentionally. Marcus wants to have a field day with the knowledge but there’s something about her in this moment that stops him. Girls like Katie don’t like guys like him, especially not little lionesses, and she’s just presented him with a golden vulnerability.
He could latch onto it, consuming it whole like a snake does its prey, but then he’d have lost it too soon. No, Marcus wants to know just how deep this feeling goes… If it’s even really there.
And if it’s there, well, Marcus hasn’t really figured that far ahead...
“I should go,” Katie’s voice spills from behind her veil of locks, and she makes for a quick getaway.
It’s clumsy, and Marcus hardly has any trouble wrapping an arm around her waist, holding her to him once again, “Not so fast.”
He feels her heartbeat quicken, pounding against her ribcage, but she doesn’t struggle this time.
“Can’t have you walking back unescorted. The next person to catch you might not be so, generous, with your jokes.”
Katie makes a disgruntled noise, despite her embarrassment, and she twists in his arms, a fire blazing in her eyes almost as bright as the flush on her cheeks, “It’s not a joke!”
“Oh?” Marcus sneers in her face, “You really fancy this mug?”
“As a matter of fact, I do-- It's your talking I can't stand!” Surging forward Katie catches him off guard, bashing their teeth together painfully.
Marcus grunts from the unexpected pain but Katie hardly seems to notice it. Tough little thing she is, and terribly drunk too.
All the same, it's not a half bad kiss and when Katie finally pulls away, Marcus thinks she not the only one with reddened cheeks now.
“Not half bad, Bell.”
“I should think not,” Katie huffs, looking blatantly proud of her actions, “Now, are you going to walk me back to my dorm?”
“Are you sure you want to go?” Marcus raises a brow.
“Hm, yes,” Katie grins, “But not just yet.”
Author/Artist:
katie_flint
Pairing(s): Katie Bell/Marcus Flint
Rating: T
Warning(s): N/A
Challenge(s): Prompt 04: Class for
mixandmatch100
Word count: 100x10
Summary: Marcus finds a certain Gryffindor chaser as he returns from practice one night. He should just ignore her, he knows this, but he can’t help himself... Not when it’s Katie Bell.
Notes: This was written thanks to a prompt from my gal pal across the sea, Rose, which I hope she likes, even though it's a bit basic (and it took forever haha). Or read on AO3.
Marcus finds Katie as he’s heading to the dungeons. She’s sitting on the stairwell steps and he’s only just getting in from a Quidditch practice that’s run late. Marcus wants to ignore her, really. After all, it’s frankly none of his business what she’s doing there, but Marcus can’t help himself.
“You shouldn’t be here, Bell.”
The question comes out more like a snarl because Marcus is tired and put out with his own lack of self-restraint. He should just leave the Gryffindor chaser here and be on his way. Merlin knows he’s in need of a good shower, not just for the stench wafting from him, but for his growing bruises as well.
“It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion,” She fires back and that, is definitely not a question.
That’s why Marcus likes Katie, he remembers. She’s a spitfire, on and off the field. A lot braver than most are dealing with someone like himself. Troll-blooded, he’s heard the Gryffindor first years whisper. Like hell. Most Flints can hardly even look at halfbloods. Fornicating with a troll would send one of them over the ever-loving edge.
Katie though, she wears Marcus the right way, most of the time. And he's never opposed when they lock brooms out on the field. It gives him an excuse to get close and personal with that firm body of hers. A welcome view if he's ever seen, (or felt), one.
Leaning in closer to sneer in Katie’s face, Marcus is surprised by the strong aroma of alcohol lacing her breath. He hadn't noticed before, exhausted and reeking himself. His eyes come alight with a devilish glee.
“Been drinking, Bell?” Marcus imagines he must look quite gruesome in this moment, but to her credit she doesn't flinch, “What would Captain Wood say?”
“He's can sod off,” Katie growls, leaning closer, perhaps to intimidate him, “And so can you, Flint.”
It only makes Marcus want to laugh, but he resists. If only because his sides ache from practice.
‘The little lioness had claws’, Marcus muses as Katie tries batting at him rather pitifully, clearly displeased by his mirth.
Marcus can't help himself then, laughing aloud at the uncoordinated assault, only making the inebriated girl crosser with him, “What’s the matter, have a spat with your lover?”
“You-” Katie reaches for her wand, but Marcus grabs her wrists firmly, hardly wanting to discover what damage she might cause in such a state.
“Oh come off it Bell, we’ve all seen the way you ogle him at practice,” Marcus heaves her against himself, pulling her up from the stairs as she fights to get free of him. Eventually he wins, but not without an admirable amount of resistance.
Despite this closeness, Marcus still can’t quite hear what she mumbles into his muddy uniform.
“What?” Marcus says dumbly.
“It’s not- Not Oliver,” There’s a blush on those already rosy cheeks. If not Wood…
Uncertain, but confident enough to play it off, a leer spreads wide across his lips, “Who then, Bell?-- Davises? Weasley?... Purdy?”
At Adrian’s name, the brunette makes such a face, Marcus’ thinks she might actually hurl on him, “Not him,- You.”
There’s silence in the stairwell, and Marcus suddenly feels closer to Katie than he ought be. If he lets her go, Marcus knows she’ll probably fall on her face.
He lets go anyway.
“Not funny, Bell,” Her name comes out sharper than he meant it to, but he doesn’t make any effort to correct himself. He doesn't know what- who- he was expecting, but not himself. Not that he's willing to admit.
Katie stumbles, falling into the wall. She looks at him, eyes filling with a sentiment Marcus can’t quite identify, and then her head falls suddenly, her hair consuming those blazing cheeks, "I think, I might have had a few shots too many..."
“Shite,” Marcus breathes shallowly, “...You think?”
He doesn't know what else to say.
Katie Bell, the enemy, has just admitted she fancies him; albeit unintentionally. Marcus wants to have a field day with the knowledge but there’s something about her in this moment that stops him. Girls like Katie don’t like guys like him, especially not little lionesses, and she’s just presented him with a golden vulnerability.
He could latch onto it, consuming it whole like a snake does its prey, but then he’d have lost it too soon. No, Marcus wants to know just how deep this feeling goes… If it’s even really there.
And if it’s there, well, Marcus hasn’t really figured that far ahead...
“I should go,” Katie’s voice spills from behind her veil of locks, and she makes for a quick getaway.
It’s clumsy, and Marcus hardly has any trouble wrapping an arm around her waist, holding her to him once again, “Not so fast.”
He feels her heartbeat quicken, pounding against her ribcage, but she doesn’t struggle this time.
“Can’t have you walking back unescorted. The next person to catch you might not be so, generous, with your jokes.”
Katie makes a disgruntled noise, despite her embarrassment, and she twists in his arms, a fire blazing in her eyes almost as bright as the flush on her cheeks, “It’s not a joke!”
“Oh?” Marcus sneers in her face, “You really fancy this mug?”
“As a matter of fact, I do-- It's your talking I can't stand!” Surging forward Katie catches him off guard, bashing their teeth together painfully.
Marcus grunts from the unexpected pain but Katie hardly seems to notice it. Tough little thing she is, and terribly drunk too.
All the same, it's not a half bad kiss and when Katie finally pulls away, Marcus thinks she not the only one with reddened cheeks now.
“Not half bad, Bell.”
“I should think not,” Katie huffs, looking blatantly proud of her actions, “Now, are you going to walk me back to my dorm?”
“Are you sure you want to go?” Marcus raises a brow.
“Hm, yes,” Katie grins, “But not just yet.”