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imlostinsantacarla · 5 years ago

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@beaming-ben: hey! i just wanted to say i’m enjoying your lost boys posts :) was wondering if i was able to make a request with Y/N (so others can enjoy it) x Marko? it would be where the reader is new to santa carla and they are at the boardwalk looking at the stores and stuff. Marko notices them who turns out to be his mate and he starts talking to them. the reader would be quite shy in this but eventually opens up and Marko would be really sweet to them. Thanks for your time :) x

(a/n: heya love, sorry that this took so long for me to get around to! i hope you enjoy what i’ve come up with, i really tried my best! thanks for your request as well. - admin kat 🌙❣)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Title: You Don’t Talk Much Do You? (Marko x Reader)

Summary: Moving out to the Murder Capitol of the World and into the home of your eccentric grandfather after a divorce between your parents has you longing for a night of fun. When your two brothers accompany you onto the infamous Boardwalk for the night, their teasing ways get under your skin and you feel the need to break away and cool off. Doing this means that you run into a particular blonde-haired boy that isn’t just trying to chat you up to win you over for the night, but for eternity.

Word Count: 2,269 (lmaoo 69)

Warnings: mentions of parents divorcing, angsty teenager stuff?, nothing else really.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Being new to Santa Carla had an overwhelming pressure as nighttime rolled around and the Boardwalk was filled with the static buzz of teenagers having a blast of a time whilst the flashing lights of the fair rides busily illuminated the night air. There was a charge of excitement in the atmosphere which had you practically bouncing on your heels, a grin spread wide across your face. It seemed as though it had been an eternity since you had even stared fun straight in the face.

Currently you were situated between your two brothers, Michael and Sam, whom were bickering like school children over the topic of Sam needing and not needing babysitters to accompany him.

“I’m not a kid any more, Mikey! I can find my own way around here no problem.” Sam sassed with an exasperated tone, total offense clouding his countenance as he looked up at his older brother indignantly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Michael rolled his eyes, giving a hasty shake of his head, “tell that to mom after you get lost for the fifth time today.”

“Hey! The first time was my fault but the other four were your terrible sense of direction. Right, y/n?” Sam blabbered enthusiastically, though his face was heating up due to embarrassment.

“Huh?” You hummed, eyes averting from the roller coaster and landing on Sam who seemed even more offended that you hadn’t exactly been paying any mind to his side of the argument, never mind Michael’s point. “Sorry, what did you two losers say?” You inquired with a quick scratch to the back of your neck.

Michael grinned silly at you before staring down at Sam. “Jesus, and I thought mom was bad.” to which Sam laughed at, their brotherly bickering having become a thing of the past and your fleeting attention span now the main focus.

“You’ve seen plenty of rides before, I don’t see what the big deal is, y/n!” Sam stated matter-of-factly, his bright eyes illuminated with mischief.

“Yeah, I know. But when was the last time us three got to have fun instead of being stuck between mom and dad arguing?” You sassed, a tint spreading across your cheeks. Your statement was nothing more than sincere. Being in between two parents going through a divorce was messy and heartbreaking for everyone involved, but it seemed to have taken it’s toll on you the most. You’d assumed the role of keeping what was left of your family intact, like human glue, and it was the most exhausting job you’d slid into for awhile now.

“Jeez you make it sound like you’re the one going through the divorce yourself.” Michael scoffed mockingly, no doubt attempting to get under your skin as he usually did.

“YoU mAkE iT sOuNd LiKe YoU’rE tHe OnE GoInG ThRoUgH tHe DiVoRcE yOuRsElF.” you did a pretty bad imitation of his voice, throwing your hands up in the air as you did so. “You sound like you don’t give a shit.” you spat, pushing past your older brother.

“Great! Now she’s gonna go tell mom you were an ass to her and probably blame me too!” You heard Sam practically shriek behind you. You didn’t care, you just felt like you needed to get away from them, they were practically suffocating you.

___

Parting from your brothers had lead you to only dig yourself deeper into your own thoughts. You went from store to store that littered the Boardwalk and scanned the shelves of them absentmindedly with a lot weighing down the theme of your train of thought. Moving away from Phoenix had been challenging for you, especially parting from your friends, and your parents going through their divorce was hard, - even if your mother had managed to do it with little mess -. The change of moving to another state made you almost weak with nausea. When summer was over you’d be going to a new school with new people and the thought alone made you want to spew. Making friends back in Phoenix had been challenging enough as it was...

You missed your friends desperately, you knew you were gonna miss your old school even once summer was over here. Everything here was daunting and weird. I mean, your Gramps didn’t even own a TV! He had Taxidermy swarming around his whole house. The thought of that beaver he’d given Sam sent shivers down your spine as though The Angel of Death were tickling it. You were genuinely living with a crazy old man and your somewhat dysfunctional family. The odds of enjoying your time here didn’t look so hot. I mean, you were living in the Murder Capital of the World.

The exhaustion you felt seemed to morph into sore legs from having walked around the pier several times. You’d even walked past your brothers ten times, ignoring them whenever they’d called on you. They knew that when you were in a bad mood to just let you walk it off in order to cool down. Besides, they were the ones who’d agitated you in the first place. The least they could do was give you time.

The whole intention of coming to the Boardwalk was to have fun, engage in excitement: You’d wanted to go on every ride you saw, eat till you were so full you’d spew and watch the live bands play. You hadn’t bagged on miserably idling around a comic book store until the two kids behind the register eyed you all funny till you left.

Now you were at one set of stairs that lead down to the actual sand of Santa Carla’s beach. Your eyes scanning the scene before you with dull eyes of envy. The moon was strikingly pale against the velvety black night sky, tiny specs of stars dancing to the music of the local teenagers guffawing and fooling around on the sand beneath. The waves of the ocean were a velvety black, the moon casting an eerie silvery glow onto it, it’s reflection warbled as the salty water lapped onto the sand and retreated. There wasn’t just total darkness, on the sand, where there were teenagers, there were also oil drums glowing orange with dancing flames in the center of the group, providing warmth and light to their shenanigans. There were hundreds of oil drums littered all over the beach, like small beacons of light attempting to break through the darkness of night.

A sense of desperation to join them left your stomach jumping and twisting apprehensively, making you miss Phoenix all the more. You’d do almost anything to get out of the funk you’d sunk into, even if that meant doing something stupid and getting yourself grounded for all eternity by your mother. You weren’t astray to rebelling against her in the past. She knew that plain as day, which is probably why she had told your brothers to head out with you.

You climbed halfway down the stairs until you sunk down onto them, deciding you didn’t have enough courage to just throw yourself into any one of the orange circles that scattered the beach. Anyone of those groups could be filled with nutters and weirdos. You weren’t looking to get yourself into anything you couldn’t get yourself out of. But you observed the people your age, maybe even a little older than you, dancing and singing, - clearly both drunk and/or high on something -, with curiosity.

“You just gonna watch all the action go down from here?” You heard a voice clear as day in your ear, causing you to jump straight out of your skin, a yelp being pulled from your throat. You whipped around to find a boy your age with the dumbest grin plastered straight on his face, like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. “Whoa! Easy.” His voice came out husky as he placed his hands up by his head, partially gloved, palms facing you.

You were stunned for what felt like seconds but stretched on for well over a couple of minutes. The guy was stunning, blond and wore the most peculiar jacket of gold and red that possessed patterns, faces, pictures... You weren’t even aware that you’d been staring till he chuckled again. “You know, you might wanna close your mouth before you drool everywhere.” He teased, his nimble and icy fingertips coming under your chin and forcing your mouth closed with a soft tap. He had his head tilted to the side, blue orbs penetrating yours like he was staring straight through your soul.

“O-Oh, s-sorry.” You cleared your throat, tearing your face away from him and looking out over the beach once more. You were grateful that it was dark where you were, so the blush that consumed your face now was well hidden, - at least you thought it was -.

“Nah, it’s all good. I’m not complaining.” You heard the grin forming on his face as he spoke. Suddenly the space on the step beside you was occupied and you could feel his gaze on your face now. “You new here? I haven’t seen you around before.” He inquired, leaning closer to you in a non-intrusive way. There was curiosity in his eyes as you met them.

“Yeah.” You hummed, nipping your bottom lip between your teeth. This felt odd, no guy, - especially this attractive -, had ever really spoken to you. You always thought it was because you weren’t attractive, but you knew the biggest part of it was because your older brother Michael (by one year) wouldn’t let any guy get within twenty feet of you. So the fact that this guy was sat here chatting to you made you wonder where in the hell Michael was at.

“Cool. Where’re you from?”

“Ph-Phoenix.” You muttered softly, eyes dipping down as you spoke. The way that he was looking at you made you feel a little unsettled.

“Cool, cool.” He mumbled, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, plucking a smoke out and placing it between his lips before lighting it. The flame from his lighter made it possible for you to fully see his face, which almost made your jaw slack open once again. He was definitely attractive. He laughed again. “What? You want one?” He offered the opened carton to you, to which you declined and he chuckled once more. “Alright. You’re not much of a talker are you?” He quipped humorously to which you felt your ears redden and you shook your head.

“I’m Marko, by the way.” He mumbled around his cigarette, puffing smoke in your direction.

“y/n” you smiled softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you watched him.

“Michael’s sister?” Marko inquired with a quirked brow.

“How’d you know that?” You were baffled and slightly terrified to say the least.

“Me and my buddies met your brother, we’re friends. He told us about you.” Marko clarified with a puff of smoke flowing from his lips as he spoke.

“That’s funny, he never mentioned you...” You hummed thoughtfully, “Oh God, what’d he tell you about me? That I’m a Monster Bitch from Hell?” You rolled your eyes indignantly.

“Somethin’ like that.” He simpered, eyes skimming up and down your body with interest as he spoke. “With the way he was describing you, I thought you’d look like a Demon of something.”

“I’m so gonna flatten him when I get home.” You muttered under your breath to which he laughed at. You turned to look at him once more with creased brows. “Then what do I look like to you?”

“Hot.” You laughed when he said that, shaking your head as you tipped it backwards. “I mean that in a non-demon kinda way.” He added.

“Well, that’s good I suppose.”

“You think so?” Boy he was a flirt, you could already tell. He was definitely funny also, which you liked. Funny guys were always more interesting to you. They were better than the hotheaded types, at least in your opinion they were.

“I dunno, would you prefer that I looked like one?”

“Nah, not really! I think you look great as you are.” He flashed his pearly whites at you with a confidence you’d never seen before and it spurred the pair of you into a conversation filled with flirtatious comments. You swore you’d never spoken to someone this much in your life - even with your very own family -.

Speaking with Marko seemed to flow naturally between the pair of you, which made your heart gallop a million miles per hour. However, even though he was nice to talk to, there was something about him that caused a spark of suspicion in you, like danger lurked around the corner if you continued to converse with him. But there was something else that was pulling you towards him, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on because you’d never felt this before. It was like a rope was tied across your midsection and Marko felt it too. The more either one of you resisted the tighter the pull felt, forcing you in his vicinity.

And sure, you’d talked to cute guys in the past before your brother intervened, and there was always a sense of giddiness in your gut as you did so. Yet it didn’t compare to the warmth that seemed to spread through your muscles as he inched closer and closer to you with each question and answer that flowed from both of your mouths. Something about this seemed natural and destined, like nothing could get in the way of or break it apart.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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