Hey! I just found your blog and I saw your hcs for Martin and I really like them! there's seriously no Martin content out there and i've been looking high and low for someone who writes for him! i'm not really sure if you write x reader stuff but I was wondering if you could write a soft imagine about Martin going on a date? If not honestly anything Martin related is perfect. Thank you!<3
AN: Im so sorry for the late response, I've thought about answering this ask every day for the past 12 months but didn't. </3
Martin x GN!Reader on a soft date.
You looked up at the looming house before you. Despite you and Martin being friends for quite some time, your nerves were shot. Today was different. You had formally asked him out on a date, romantically, with a hand-written note and everything. The swarm of butterflies in your stomach is more akin to wasps than anything else with their anxious buzzing.
You took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. Cuda opened the door and regarded you with a narrow gaze. The butterflies fell dead in your stomach, something about the man filled you with a quiet discomfort. His white suit is pristine like that of a piece of paper, or the skin of a cadaver.
“You are here for Martin?” he stated, more than asked.
All you could do was nod your head. He stepped aside to let you in. You trotted up the stairs, eager to be out of the old man’s judgemental gaze. Martin met you halfway down, having heard your knocking a moment earlier.
You couldn’t help but eye his lithe, toned figure as his white t-shirt hugged his chest and arms. His dark green trousers hugged his waist, accentuating his gentle curves. Over one arm was slung a jacket, and his chestnut brown hair was brushed and fluffy, framing his face. You cleared your throat and looked away.
He nodded, and you turned to lead him down the stairs.
It doesn’t take long for the cracked concrete of the train station to be beneath your feet, and the warm afternoon air filling your lungs. Martin rocked back and forth on his heels, rubbing his neck and avoiding looking at you. You were used to Martin being quiet, and nervous, but never like this.
A spike of anxiety coursed through your veins. Oh god, he didn’t wanna be here did he? He only said yes so your feelings wouldn’t be hurt. Dark thoughts circled your head like vultures, waiting to strike and tear apart everything.
You distantly heard Martin say something.
“S-sorry what was that? I kinda zoned off,” you stuttered.
Martin looked at you, biting his lip and blushing. “Y-you have something behind your ear,”
You ran your fingers over your scalp, but found nothing.
“Here, let me get it for you,”
Before you could react Martin’s hand brushed over your hair, causing your cheeks to tint slightly pink. When he pulled his hand back, a rose was clasped between his fingers. Your jaw dropped.
“Oh! It’s a rose, what a strange thing to keep in your hair, although I suppose it’s fitting for someone so beautiful,” He remarked gently. He reached out and offered the flower to you.
All of the blood rose to your face at once. You managed to stutter out a weak ‘thank you’ before taking the rose. Where had he even hidden it? You watched him put on his jacket before you left and didn't see a thing. You noticed that he had removed all of the thorns from the stem, so you wouldn’t get hurt. Surely, you would be suffering a fatal heart attack any moment.
The train ride was uneventful, filled mostly with small-talk. You felt your anxiety ease somewhat as Martin settled into his usual self, cracking jokes between the two of you. You stepped off the train, and, on a whim, offered your hand to Martin to help him down the steps. It was his turn to blush and look away, the corners of his mouth curling slightly as he took your hand.
“My liege,” You said, bowing your head to him.
“Pshhh,” He said bashfully. “I’m not fit to be a prince,” He chuckled.
“Well you’re certainly handsome enough to be one,”
Martin turned bright red and averted his gaze. Why on earth did you have to be so cute? And so, the both of you turned to walk down the street.
After a while Martin spoke. “So uh,” He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tic. “Where are we going?”
“Don’t worry, it’s not far. You’ll like it, I promise.”
It was a bit of a lame surprise, looking back. You had been to this park a billion times over as a child, walking the trails and having picnics on the weekends. It was a 50 acre wooded area, with open areas for hosting events. Walking and biking paths wound around the entire park, and a pond that was frequented by the local waterfowl.
You and Martin take your time walking and exploring the trails. You stop at a food truck, getting some hot dogs and soda. Your hands are entwined, footsteps in sync, as you take in the beauty of the park.
Arriving at the pond, the both of you decide to stop and rest on a bench. Martin spots a stall nearby that’s selling bird seed. He tells you to wait while he goes and gets some. You offer to pay for it yourself, but Martin insists that you’ve already done enough for him today. Wanting to avoid an argument with him, you let him pay.
You watch as Martin jogs over to the pond and kneels in the grass. He takes a handful of the seeds and spreads them out around him. A pigeon or two peck at the seeds, mildly interested. Even though he has his face turned away, you can tell that he is grinning from ear to ear.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You ignore it. It buzzes a second time, then a third. Reluctantly, you take it out and groan when you see that it’s your boss. You were supposed to have today off from work. As in, work was not your responsibility that day and you didn’t have to do anything.
Your boss was asking if you could come in for an extra shift this evening. You started typing out an answer, only to be distracted by Martin’s laughter.
He looked back at you and beamed. A horde of ducks, geese, and pigeons surrounded the pale boy, who seemed absolutely giddy about the whole thing. You started to chuckle at the sight, amazed that the birds were so calm around him.
“Y/N look! I found some friends!” he laughed.
“I can see that!” you pocketed your phone and jogged over to him.
He turned towards you and that’s when you saw it. A goose, sitting contentedly in Martin’s arms. It was just sitting there, allowing Martin to hold it. You had never seen such a thing, and you started to panic.
“Martin! What are you doing?!?”
“What?” he asked, genuinely confused.
Most of the other birds flew off as you approached, all but a few ballsy pigeons and the aforementioned goose.
Wary, you took a few steps closer, not wanting to get bit by the creature.
“Martin you can’t just pick up a goose! What if you got hurt?”
“He seems fine enough, I don't see what the problem is. Besides, it’s very polite, one of the most well-behaved I’ve ever met!”
The goose looked up at you with glossy eyes and honked as if to say hello. Just as you opened your mouth to protest again, a voice from behind you called out.
“Sir? Excuse me sir,” A green uniformed officer strode up to you. “Sir, for your safety I am going to ask that you please refrain from handling any wildlife in this park.”
He frowned, but complied, setting the bird down on the ground. It waddled away and slipped into the pond. Satisfied, the officer nodded, and returned to patrolling the park. You sat next to him, completely bamboozled.
“That was really weird, how’d you get the goose to sit in your lap like that?”
He shrugged. “It just kind of sat there on its own, I didn't do anything special,”
All you could do was shake your head in disbelief.
“You are one magical person that’s for sure,” you chuckled.
He rolled his eyes at you, but a slight smile tugged the corners of his mouth. “You know how I feel about the magic,”
Martin laid back on the grass, closing his eyes. Dappled sunlight draped across his face, and his hair formed a regal crown around his head. Delicate eyelashes fanned out over porcelain cheeks, tinted red from the heat of the sun.
“Can I kiss you?” the question was whispered on your breath before you had a chance to catch it, and take it back.
His eyes snapped open, starting at you.
“I’m so sorry, I just, you look so pretty and I-well, uhm-” you pulled at your shirt collar.
“...yes.”
Swallowing, you gently leaned over him, and pressed your lips to his.
