one shots // falsettos.

in a world of their own // m x w

i love fluff-- a lot. too much. thank you to sarahistrying for hyping me up till the end!! ily sammie!!!

whoops i forgot the hc's:

college au

!! forehead kisses !!

take a shot every time i write static lmao

hh used from the prompts by @/silver-me-timbers on tumblr

this made my heart hurt and i had to take a break to breathe properly lmao,,

"People being gentle is my kink."

Okay, that comment was out of nowhere; In fact, it was so out of nowhere that Marvin choked on his chips, sending him into shock. Once his breathing was back to normal, he gave Whizzer a glare.

"Why on earth would you bring that up?"

"Just wanted to see what you'd do. And plus, it's not like it bothers you. You couldn't be gentle even if you tried." This snark statement came with a smirk. Now, Marvin knew he was trying to pull some shit, to wind him up. They weren't even together - which stabbed at Marvin's heart, but he pushed it down. Deal with it later. - but Whizzer was just being an asshole at this very moment.

But Marvin likes a challenge.

"Really? I bet you I can be gentle." He said, shuffling over to where Whizzer was. He could see nervousness clamour up his friends' face, but yet Whizzer managed to choke it down.

"Psh-- yeah right." His voice seemed to wobble a bit, making Marvin's confidence shoot through the roof. He could do this. It was just Whizzer.

"Right." And with that, he put the palm of his hand gently against Whizzer's soft cheek, feeling the peach fuzz graze against the skin; Soft against his rough palms.

His heart is hammering against his rib cage, and to add to that, his previous thought comes back into mind.

It's just Whizzer.

Whizzer. With his cute, dorky obsessions over the stars, and how he gets so excited over small little things. Whizzer, who's been Marvin's best friend since they were five, and had recently become impossible to ignore.

You see, here's the thing about Marvin:

He's a mop of tousled curls that lives in red hoodies, and has a dumb, dorky wheez-y laugh which sits as a reminder of the asthma he grew out of at eleven. He adores dogs and he also adores Whizzer. Every time he looks at him, you could swear you could count every shade of blue in his eyes and then some. He doesn't usually score with love, and when he was fourteen, he found out - whilst sitting on the curb with a cup of artificially-flavoured red, cold syrup in his hands, Whizzer next to him with a cup of blue - that he had dug himself into a hole of non-platonic feelings for his best friend, with no ladder.

Whizzer seems taken aback as Marvin slowly takes his cheek in his palm, and his breath catches in his throat. Marvin's hand is warm, rough, and makes him nearly pass out.

Here's the thing about Whizzer:

He's a tall bundle of energy, who's brain goes at eighty an hour in no direction whatsoever. His hair flops around in his eyes, and he never makes an effort to do anything about it. He can get very excited over small things, like the stars and succulents, and also Marvin. He looks at him like he hung said stars himself, and every time he sticks his tongue out in concentration, Whizzer swears he feels his heart stop. His eyes remind him of the ocean, where you try to get out, but the tide pulls you back in. He pulls him into love, into realisation that feeling like you want to kiss your fourteen-year-old friend isn't platonic. At all.