╋━ LOVE TO HATE YOU . . . MARTIN EDWARDS PARK
established relationship, cursing, playful banter, teasing, fluff, reader is implied to be more mellow than martin, lovertin <3
with how large the living room is, you'd expect martin to unfold his impressive 190 centimetres across one of the many empty couches. it seemed logical, practical even.
but martin, with a mischievous glint in his eye, was determined to prove otherwise.
"oh my god," you groaned, eyes half-lidded and heavy with the blissful weight of a near-nap, as you sensed your boyfriend's impending approach. "don't even think about it, loser."
he quirked an eyebrow, a silent challenge. "excuse me?"
"go awaaaay," you whined, punctuating your plea with a dramatic groan. you burrowed deeper into the plush embrace of the couch, clutching the stolen comforter from his room like a lifeline, your back turning against him.
"i'm literally just standing here," he protested, his voice laced with mock innocence. yet, with each passing second, he inched closer, a slow and deliberate creeping that you could practically feel in your senses.
"i can hear you dummy," you retorted, your voice muffled by the comforter.
"well you're hearing things," he insisted, though the playful tone betrayed his amusement.
"martin, i can feel your breath on my neck," you declared, feigning exasperation.
as if on cue, a gentle puff of air tickled the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine and ruffling the stray hairs that linger there. you cracked open your eyes, moving to face the opposite direction, and found yourself confronted with the sight of martin, now crouched beside the couch, his face mere inches from yours.
"hey pretty," he murmured, his voice low and honeyed. with a tender hand, he brushed the stray hairs away from your face, tucking it behind your ear before resting his temple on his knuckles, his elbow rested on the couch while his arm provide a sturdy anchor for his upper body. "did i tell you that you look really pretty today?"
you stared at him for a beat, your mind momentarily blank as you took in the sight of his utterly ridiculous, yet undeniably endearing, dopey smile. it was a smile that was there to coax you out of your supposedly afternoon nap, a form of annoyance disguised as charm. with a roll of your eyes, you broke the spell.
"you have," you replied, your voice dripping with feigned boredom, though a traitorous smile threatened to tug at the corners of your lips. "numerous and multiple times, actually."
"really? how many?" he asked, voice laced with faux wonder, his brow furrowing and his eyes fluttering shut. "tens? hundreds? thousands of times?"
"millions," you deadpanned, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a genuine reaction. you flick his forehead, to which martin responded to with a dramatic grunt, clutching at the space between his brows.
"come onnnnnn," he drawled, stretching the word into a drawn-out whine. he lowered his aching forehead onto your arm, his eyes gazing up at you with an exaggerated pout.
you stared at him again, but this time, your gaze lingered, truly seeing him. memorizing the subtle freckles scattered across his cheeks, the rosy hue of the tip of his nose, and the unwavering stars that danced in his eyes, never seeming to dim, no matter the circumstances.
because as infuriating as martin could be, nothing could compare to the absolute adoration and unwavering endearment he offered in return.
endearing, that was the word you would secretly use to describe the entirety of his being. many might mistake him as a perfect, flawless specimen, but you knew better. you saw his flaws, the clumsy moments when he'd spill milk all over the counter during breakfast, the awkward silences that lingered during the first date, the quiet frustration that simmered beneath the surface when a song just wouldn't work out.
but it was in his resolutions, in his unwavering commitment to growth, that his true charm shone through. his insistence on wiping the counter squeaky clean, his genuine curiosity when you spoke about yourself, the simple contentment that washed over him after finally finishing a song. no grand celebration, no boasting, just a quiet sigh and the soft click of his laptop closing.
so, despite the nagging awareness of his brilliance, a brilliance that seemed to cast your own, much duller, existence in a less flattering light, you relented and indulged him, as you always did.
you let out a breath, before holding open the comforter that had been threatening to swallow you whole. martin stilled for a beat, his eyes widening with anticipation, before settling into the space you had graciously offered.
he nestled his head against your chest, his breath leaving a trail of warmth against your sternum, a sensation that sent a ghost of a smile flickering across your lips. he noticed, of course, as he always with things involving you.
he lifted his head, "you like me sooooo bad, don't you."
whatever giddy feeling had begun to bloom in your chest withered and died.
"i'm going to kill you," you declared, your voice monotone and dull. you attempted to dislodge his hold on your body, jostling him with all your might, but he clung to you tighter, his grip unyielding. "get off!"
"nuh uh," he retorted, his voice muffled against your chest.
"fuck you mean nuh uh?" you challenged, your hands finding their way to his face, squishing his cheeks with playful aggression. you smirked smugly as you shook his head from side to side, relishing in his momentary discomfort.
"okay stop-" he managed to garble, his words distorted by the pressure of your hands.
"nuh uh," you countered, a small giggle escaping your lips, prompting martin to mirror your amusement despite his current predicament. "say sorry first."
"sorry for what!" he bantered, his eyebrows arching skyward in mock offense, his eyes wide with exaggerated innocence.
"just say sorry!" your giggle had long since morphed into full-blown laughter, your cheeks flushed with warmth and your stomach aching from the force of your laugh.
martin gazed at you, his expression softening into a lovesick smile, his hands stilling in your grasp. you settled down too, taking note of the fragile and tender atmosphere that had settled between you.
"who likes who so bad now, hm?" you teased, your hold on his face growing softer, your grasp turning into a gentle caress as your thumb traced the apples of his cheek.
"i have no idea what you're talking about," he mumbled, though the telltale flush creeping up his neck and spreading across his face betrayed his composure. "perv."
"nerd."
"dummy."
"dork."
"i'm not a dork!" martin protested, his voice laced with mock indignation. "i'm cool as fuck bro."
"whatever you say," you replied, punctuating your words with a soft kiss to his forehead. "dork."