#Fontaine D.C.

[alvertesongdiary]

Fontaines D.C. - In The Modern World

I feel alive In the city That you like And wait for the day To go dreaming Right by Seems so hard not to be free When you walk Right beside me

In the modern world (What?) In the modern world I don't feel anything In the modern world And I don't feel bad, Charlene Kissing on the corner (Yeah?) Wait for just a minute (What?) Come away with me and Sal I promise you'll be in it I don't feel bad

I feel alive In the city You despise Wait for the day When you come Riding on by Seems so hard just to be If it matters You complete me Yeah

In the modern world (What?) In the modern world I don't feel anything In the modern world And I don't feel bad, Charlene Kissing on the corner (Yeah?) Wait for just a minute (What?) Come away with me and Sal I promise you'll be in it In the modern world In the modern world I don't feel…no, I don't feel I don't feel bad

As long as I've known As long as I've known As long as I've known There's no feeling to draw You may be the reason But I am the law The law…

As long as I've known There's no feeling to draw You may be the reason But I am the law The law…

I feel alive In the city That you like

In the modern world (What?) In the modern world I don't feel anything In the modern world And I don't feel bad, Charlene Kissing on the corner (Yeah?) Wait for just a minute (What?) Come away with me and Sal I promise you'll be in it So don't feel bad

In the modern world (What?) In the modern world I don't feel No I don't feel (As long as I've known) I don't feel bad (As long as I've known) Charlene As long as I've known (Yeah?) There's no feeling to draw (What?) You may be the reason But I am the law I don't feel bad

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21/08/2024

[aeralux]

"Freak On a Leash" - Aemond Targaryen

Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: So what if you're fucking the weird dude? He has good dick game. But how were you supposed to know he gets attached easily?

Warnings: SMUT (18+); (pretty rough) car sex; oral (f!receiving); name calling (slut, whore etc); dark!Aemond near the end; hair pulling; choking; ass slapping; mentions of violence and blood

Words: 5.5k

Notes: No description of the reader. This was just going to be porn without a plot... but ofc I had to add some plot smh. This isn't dark dark, but it does contain some of the elements of it so... do not read it if you are not comfortable with that

𐔌 . ⋮ aera .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

He was weird, unsettling, and genuinely offputting. That's why your friends were baffled to know that you were fucking him multiple times a week, in the backseat of his car, no less. "He has good dick," you tried to tell them, saying it was worth it. But your words fell on deaf ears as none of them understood. Why him?

With long hair dyed black with a cheap store colour and a run-down 2005 Volvo S40, he didn't seem the kind of guy who could fuck a girl until her throat was raw. But you knew the truth. That's why you kept coming back, time after time.

So it was no surprise that, once again, you found yourself in his lap. In the backseat of his car, kissing and moaning, his hard cock pressing into your aching core.

"Blood?" You ask as you taste copper on your tongue when kissing his jaw. 

"Don't act like you don't find that hot," he grunted, a smug expression on his face. It's probably because whoever he fought, lost.

You smiled playfully, your lips brushing against his once more, caught in a moment where admitting he was right felt like submitting. The warmth between you grew, leaving just the two of you.

He tangled his fingers in your hair for a second before shifting his attention downward, fumbling with the delicate fabric of your flimsy top. The skin-tight shirt clung to your curves, resisting his attempts as if it had a will of its own. Frustration flickered across his face, but it was quickly replaced by determination as he continued to work his way around the stubborn material.

"Just rip it open for fuck's sake," you groan as he fumbles with your skin-tight white top. Your hips instinctively roll on top of his, ruining your cute white cotton panties with your juices.

Aemond groans deeply at your words. With a quick, decisive motion, he rips the fabric open, the sound of the tear deafening. Your black lacy bra is revealed, the delicate lace a stark contrast to his rough, calloused hands as they cup your breasts.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he growls, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples through the thin lace. "Gonna fucking wreck you."

He leans in, his hot mouth latching onto one nipple through the bra as his other hand slides down to rub your clit through your soaked panties. He groans against your skin at the wetness he finds there, the sound vibrating through you.

Oh gods, you are so fucking wet for him. You can feel your arousal soaking through the thin cotton, staining it with your desperation. You grind harder against the rigid bulge straining against his jeans, needing more friction, and more contact.

"So fucking wet for me already," he murmurs, his fingers pushing the fabric aside to delve between your folds. "Gonna make you come so hard."

You roll your hips harder against Aemond's bulge, your clit throbbing with every grind. Your skirt hangs loosely around your waist, resembling more of a belt.

"Fuck, these songs suck ass," you grumbled, reaching for Aemond's phone and scrolling through his playlists until you find something more to your liking. The change in music elicits a growl from Aemond, but you just smirk and lean in close, your lips brushing his jaw. The bass line of Rob Zombie's "Dragula" thumps through the car, a perfect complement to the nasty thoughts running through your mind.

"Okay, now you can fuck me," you giggle, your teeth grazing his skin before you soothe the sting with your tongue. You can taste the salt of his sweat, the copper tang of blood - a reminder of the fight he must have been in. Your curiosity gets the better of you.

"Who the fuck did you fight this time?" You ask, your voice low and husky with desire. But even as you speak, your focus is on the delicious friction between your legs, the way Aemond's hard length rubs against your aching core with every roll of your hips.

"Fucking some new guy, thought he could take me," Aemond growls, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he grinds up against you. "Taught him a lesson real quick."

He leans in, his teeth nipping at your earlobe as he speaks. "He won't be coming back anytime soon. Not after the way I shattered his ribs." His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you down harder onto his cock.

"Now, quit talking and start begging for it," he commands, his voice a low rumble in your ear. He places a few light smacks on your cheek, making you smile at the lewd actions.

You shake your head, a wide smile spreading across your face as your eyes lose focus. The depravity of the situation, the dingy car, the smell of sweat and sex, it all makes you even wetter. You can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs.

"You know I don't beg," you whisper, your lips brushing against his earlobe as you suck on it gently. Your teeth graze the sensitive skin, making him groan.

Aemond's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks. He sounds almost angry as he growls, "You'd better fucking start, or I'll stop right here."

"Fuck," you whimper as his bulge nudges against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Your brows furrow, your eyes squeezed shut as you grind down harder, seeking more of that delicious friction.

To emphasize his point, he stills his hips, denying you the friction you crave. His other hand moves from your breast to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

"Please, Aemond," you moan, your voice breaking with need. "Fuck me. Use me. Make me forget everything but your cock inside me."

Aemond's eyes darken with lust at your words, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "That's more like it," he purrs, his grip on your throat relaxing just slightly. He leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing kiss.

"Gonna fucking ruin you," he promises, his free hand moving down to grip your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh. He pulls you down hard, grinding his clothed cock against your aching cunt.

"Gonna make you scream for me," he growls, his other hand moving from your throat to tangle in your hair. He yanks your head back, exposing your neck to his hungry mouth. He latches on, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, his teeth grazing your skin.

His hips are moving now, grinding up against you in a filthy rhythm. The rough denim of his jeans rubs against your sensitive clit. You can feel the heat of him through the fabric, the hard length of his cock straining against his zipper.

You moan sluttily, desperate, shameless noises filling his car. You're too far gone to care about your pride. Impatiently, you tug the cups of your bra down, exposing your hardened nipples to the cool air. They're almost painfully sensitive, aching to be sucked.

"Suck," you command, your voice low and demanding. You arch your back, offering your breasts to him like a sacrificial lamb.

Aemond's eyes darken at your demand, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Oh, so you think you're in charge here, do you?" he growls, his hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back.

You gasp at the sharp pain, your eyes watering. "I think you need to be put in your place, slut," he sneers, his other hand roughly palming your breast.

He leans in, his hot breath ghosting over your exposed nipple. "Beg for it," he commands, his voice low and dangerous.

You swallow hard, your pride fading due to your desperate need. "Please," you whimper, your voice small and needy. "Suck my tits, I need it so bad."

Aemond chuckles darkly, his teeth grazing your nipple. "That's more like it," he growls before his mouth envelops the sensitive bud.

You cry out, your back arching as he suckles hard, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak. The pleasure is intense, bordering on pain, and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

"Fuck, that feels so good," you moan, your hand moving to the back of his head, trying to push him closer. But he pulls away, shaking his head.

"Hands off," he commands, his eyes flashing with anger. "You don't get to tell me what to do."

You whimper, your hand falling away. "Sorry," you whisper, your cheeks flushing with shame.

Aemond just smirks, his hand moving to your other breast, roughly squeezing the soft flesh. "Good girl," he purrs, before diving back in, his mouth hot and wet on your aching nipple.

You moan, your eyes fluttering closed as you lose yourself in the sensation.

"Fuck, you taste good," he growls against your skin, his hand moving to pinch and roll your other nipple between his fingers. The dual sensations make you cry out, your back arching as you press yourself further into his touch.

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, blowing cool air over the damp flesh. You whimper at the loss, your body craving more of his touch. "That's better," he says, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "You know your place."

Aemond's hand moves from your hair to your throat again, squeezing just enough to make you gasp for air. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you senseless?"

Your heart races, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as Aemond's hand tightens around your throat. The lack of oxygen only adds to the haze of lust clouding your mind. You nod frantically, your eyes wide and pleading.

"Yes, yes, I'll be good," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond's lips curve into a wicked grin against your skin, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Fuck, you're so desperate for it, aren't you?" he growls, his hand releasing your throat to grip your hip, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise.

He grinds up against you, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against your aching clit. The friction is delicious, but not nearly enough. You need more. You need him inside you, stretching you, filling you.

"Yes, fuck yes, I'm desperate for it," you pant, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you inside me, Aemond. I love it when you use me."

Aemond chuckles darkly, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "Fuck, you're such a dirty little slut," he growls, his hand releasing your throat to grip your hair instead. He yanks your head back, exposing your neck to his hungry mouth.

"Gonna fucking ruin you," he promises, his teeth grazing your skin. "Gonna make you scream for me."

"Fuck, you're so wet," he groans. He yanks your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark with lust, filled with the depravity to come.

"Gonna fuck you so hard, you'll be feeling it for days," he promises, his hand moving from your hair to grip your throat again. He squeezes, cutting off your air supply just for a moment before releasing.

You gasp, your lungs burning for oxygen. But even then you still smile at him, biting your lip.

Aemond's eyes darken at the sight, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Fuck, you're perfect," he growls, his hand releasing your throat to grip your ass hard enough to bruise. "A sight for sore eyes," he smirks, looking into your glossy eyes.

"Shit, I need to eat you out first," he groans, his jeans pressing down painfully on his throbbing cock.

He slides off the seat, kneeling between your legs as he slides your panties to the side impatiently. The scent of your arousal is thick in the air, making his cock throb with need. The cool air hits your aching cunt, making you shiver.

"Fuck, you smell incredible," he growls, his hot breath ghosting over your slick folds. He leans in, his tongue darting out to lap at your clit, making you cry out.

He groans at the taste of you, his tongue delving deeper, licking through your folds and fucking into your entrance. He eats you out like a man starved, his tongue moving in and out, his lips sucking on your clit.

His fingers delving between your folds. He brings them up to your lips, pressing them against your mouth. "Taste how fucking desperate you are for me."

You open your mouth obediently, sucking his fingers into your mouth. The taste of your arousal explodes on your tongue, musky and sweet. You moan around his fingers, your tongue licking and sucking, cleaning them of your juices.

Aemond's eyes darken with lust as he watches you suck his fingers clean, your tongue swirling around the digits. He growls low in his throat, his free hand moving to grip your breast, squeezing the soft flesh roughly.

"Fuck, you're so hot like this," he growls, his fingers popping out of your mouth.

He gets back up, leaving you unsatisfied and annoyed.

He grabs your hair, forcing your head back and making you look up at him. His eyes are dark with lust, his jaw clenched as he battles for control.

"Strip," he commands, his voice low and dangerous. "I want you fucking naked, now."

You scramble to obey, yanking your bra off, your breasts bouncing free, nipples hard and aching for his touch. Your miniskirt and panties are next, puddled on the floor of the car, leaving you bare and exposed.

"Shit, you look so good," Aemond growls, his eyes raking over your naked form. "I almost don't even want to ruin you... almost"

He flips you on your hands and knees, pushing your head down, forcing your ass in the air, holes completely exposed to him. He yanks you forward, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. "Brace yourself, slut," he growls, grinding his clothed cock against your bare pussy. "Gonna fucking wreck you." 

You crane your neck to look back at Aemond, a scoff leaving your lips. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," you mock, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

His eyes darken at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Oh, I'll take more than just a picture, baby," he promises, his hand coming down on your ass in a sharp smack.

You gasp at the sting, your pussy clenching in anticipation. "Promises, promises," you taunt, wiggling your ass invitingly. "You talk a big game, but I bet you can't even get it half hard."

Aemond's grip on your hips tightens, his nails digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks. "Fuck, you're so goddamn cocky," he snarls. "Gonna shut that smart mouth of yours."

You moan at the contact, your head falling forward as you push your ass back against him. "Big talk, dickhead," you pant, your voice breathy with need. "Let's see what you've got."

Aemond responds to your taunts with a sharp smack to your ass, the sound echoing in the confined space of the car. "Fuck, you're asking for it," he growls, his hand coming down again, harder this time.

You gasp, your ass jiggling from the impact. "Shit, you're making a mess of me," you whine, wiggling your hips. Your pussy is throbbing, aching to be filled.

"That's the idea, slut," Aemond grunts, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass cheeks. He spreads them apart, exposing your tight holes to his hungry gaze. "Gonna fucking wreck this tight little ass."

His hands move to his zipper, slowly dragging it down. The sound of the metal seems obscenely loud in the confined space of the car.

He pushes his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his cock, the thick shaft springing up, hard and ready. The head is already slick with precum, the veins along the length pulsing with his heartbeat.

He spits in his palm, rubbing his saliva over his cock, giving it some lubrication. Then he's pressing the tip against your drooling hole, the rough denim of his jeans scraping against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight," he groans, pushing forward, the head of his cock breaching your hole. You cry out, the stretch intense, bordering on pain.

"Relax, slut," he commands, his hand coming down on your ass again. "Take that fucking cock like a good whore."

He starts to move, his hips rocking back and forth, inch by inch of his thick shaft sinking into your tight heat. Your walls clench around him, trying to adjust to the intrusion, but he doesn't give you time.

He starts fucking you in earnest, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper with each thrust. The car rocks with the force of his movements, the seat creaking beneath you.

"Fuck, you take it so well," he pants, his hand moving from your ass to grip your hip, holding you in place as he fucks into you. "Gonna fucking ruin this tight ass."

You moan, your hands gripping the seat, nails digging into the cracked leather. The pain in your ass mixes with the pleasure, making your head spin.

"Harder," you beg, pushing your hips back to meet his, desperate for more. "Fuck me harder, shit."

Your juices drip down your thighs, pooling on the leather seat below as Aemond pounds into you.

Your hands grip the seat, nails digging into the cracked leather as you brace yourself for the onslaught. Aemond's hands are everywhere - gripping your hips, squeezing your ass, tugging at your hair. He uses you like a rag doll, fucking you with an animalistic need.

Aemond grunts, his grip on your hips tightening as he complies with your demand. "Fuck, you want it hard, slut?" he growls, his voice strained with effort. "Gonna fucking give it to you."

He pulls nearly all the way out, leaving just the tip inside your stretched hole. Then he slams back in, his hips connecting with your ass with a sharp smack. He sets a brutal pace, fucking into you recklessly, the car swaying with his thrusts.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight," he pants, sweat dripping down his face, his messy black hair sticking to his skin.

You can only moan, your mouth hanging open as you gasp for air. Your breasts bounce with each powerful thrust, your nipples hard and aching for attention.

Aemond's hand moves from your hip to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh roughly. He pinches your nipple between his fingers, twisting and tugging, sending sparks of pain through your body.

"Fuck, your tits are perfect," he groans, his hand moving to your other breast, giving it the same treatment.

You whimper, your pussy clenching around his pistoning cock. The combination of pain and pleasure is overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You reach down, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. The added stimulation makes you see stars, your back arching as you moan.

"Fuck, you're such a dirty girl," Aemond pants. "Getting off on being used like a fucking toy."

"Shit, I'm close," you pant, your nails digging into the leather seat and your fingers moving on your clit. "Don't stop, fuck, don't stop," you moan, your hips bucking back against him, seeking more friction. His fingers rub your clit in tight circles, the pressure building with each stroke.

He pulls your hair, forcing your back to arch, your ass pushing back against him. The new angle allows him to go even deeper, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes you see stars.

"That's it, take it all you little slut," he pants, his hand moving from your tit to your clit, replacing your hand, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight circles.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," you whimper, your body tensing. "Please, Aemond, please."

"Do it," he commands, his fingers moving faster on your clit. "Come for me like the good little whore you are."

With a cry, you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your pussy clenches around his cock, your walls rippling along his shaft.

Aemond groans, his hips stuttering as your orgasm milks his cock. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he growls, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Where do you want me to spill?"

Your body convulses as the intense orgasm rips through you, your vision blurring and stars bursting behind your eyelids. "On my ass, fuck!" You cry out, the words torn from your throat. "Cum all over my ass!"

You arch your back, pushing your hips against Aemond's, desperate for more. Your pussy clenches around his cock, milking him.

You can feel his grip on your hips tighten, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his release. The sound of your skin slapping together fills the car, mixed with your heavy breathing and moans of pleasure.

Aemond's cock throbs inside you, his thrusts becoming more erratic as your pussy milks him. He growls low in his throat, his hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back.

"Fuck, gonna paint your ass white," he pants, his hips slamming against your ass with bruising force.

He pulls out abruptly, his cock slipping from your clenching hole with a wet sound. You whimper at the loss, your pussy aching to be filled again.

Aemond's hand comes down on your ass in a sharp smack, the sting making you gasp. "Present yourself," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Wanna see you take my load like a good little whore."

You arch your back even more, spreading your thighs as far as you can in the limited space. Your spasming holes are on full display for his hungry gaze.

Aemond kneels behind you, his cock in his hand, stroking it with quick, rough motions. "Fuck, you're such a good little girl," he pants, his eyes dark with lust as they roam over your body. "Too bad you're such a filthy slut."

He starts to come, his cock jerking in his hand as thick ropes of cum splatter across your ass and pussy. You moan, your fingers dipping between your folds to gather some of his cum, bringing it to your mouth.

"Fuck, look at you," Aemond groans, his hand still working his shaft, milking out every last drop. "Eating my cum like the dirty whore you are."

He collapses next to you on the seat, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. He reaches out, his fingers tangling in your hair, tugging your head back to look at him.

"You're fucking perfect," he growls, his eyes intense as they bore into yours. "Mine."

"Mhm," you hum, collapsing onto Aemond's chest, your body spent and sated. The car reeks of sex and sweat, your combined releases staining the seats. It's filthy and sinful, turning you on.

Aemond's arms wrap around you, pulling you close as he strokes your hair. You nuzzle into his neck, breathing in his scent, a mix of cologne and sex.

"That was intense," you murmur, your voice low and breathy. "You really know how to fuck a girl stupid."

Aemond chuckles, his chest rumbling beneath you. "Fucking right I do," he boasts, his fingers tangling in your hair. "You're a damn good lay, too. Always so fucking eager for my cock."

He tugs on your hair, forcing your head back to look at him. His eyes are dark, filled with lust and possessiveness. "You're mine," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "This tight little body belongs to me."

"Such a good girl," he praises, his other hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over your swollen lips. "Gonna keep you."

You smile against his fingers, a wicked gleam in your eyes. "Keep me for what?" you tease. "You're not my man. I'm not your's to keep," you whisper, feeling an ache in your heart for some reason.

Aemond's eyes flash with a dangerous light, his grip on your chin tightening as he yanks your face closer to his.

His grip on your chin tightened. "The fuck I'm not," he growls, his voice low and menacing. "I've had you more times than I can count. I know every inch of this body, every fucking sound you make when I'm buried inside you."

He shifts, his face mere inches from yours, his breath hot against your lips. "You're mine, whether you admit it or not."

His other hand slides down your body, fingers dipping between your thighs to gather the cum leaking from your abused hole. He brings it to your lips, smearing it across them.

"Look at you, so fucking dirty, so desperate for my cum. You can pretend all you want, but deep down, you know you belong to me."

He crashes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you with a ferocity that steals your breath.

When he pulls back, you're panting, your lips swollen and tingling. "You're mine," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. "And I'm never letting you go."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and something else, something you're not quite ready to name.You press your forehead against his, your eyes fluttering closed as you try to steady your breathing.

"I don't belong to anyone," you whisper, but there's no conviction in your voice. "We're just fucking, Aemond. Don't make it more than it is."

Aemond's eyes darken, a flash of anger crossing his face before it's quickly replaced with a predatory smirk. "Just fucking?" he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. "Is that what you think this is?"

He sits up, pulling you with him so you're straddling his lap. His hands grip your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he holds you in place.

"We've been doing this for months, baby," he reminds you, his voice rough. "You think I don't know the difference between a quick fuck and what we have?"

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I know every inch of this body, every fucking sound you make, every way you tremble and writhe when I'm inside you."

"Stop fighting it," he growls, his eyes boring into yours. "You might tell your friends that this means nothing to you, that you think I'm some creepy guy you fuck. Yet you still keep coming back.."

Your breath catches in your throat, his words sending a shiver down your spine. How does he know? You've never told him those things. You shake your head, a strand of hair falling across your face. "No, I've never said that," you whisper, your voice trembling. "I swear."

You try to pull away, but his grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place. His eyes bore into yours, dark and intense, searching for any sign of deceit. "I wouldn't say those things about you," you insist. "I don't think you're weird."

Aemond's eyes narrow, his grip on your hips tightening until it almost hurts. "Don't lie to me," he growls, his voice low and menacing. "I know you talk shit about me to your friends. I know you think I'm some kind of freak."

He leans in, his breath hot against your cheek. "But you keep coming back, don't you? You keep spreading your legs for me, begging me to fuck you like the desperate little slut you are."

His hand moves from your hip to your throat, his thumb brushing over your pulse point. "You can't resist me, can you? No matter how much you try to pretend, your body knows who it belongs to."

He squeezes your throat, not enough to cut off your air, but enough to make your heart race. "I've heard you, baby," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "I've heard you call me a freak, a deviant. But you still come back, letting me use your tight little body for my pleasure."

Your cheeks flush with shame and embarrassment as Aemond's words sink in. You try to pull away from his grip, your naked bodies still intertwined, but his hold is too strong. "Yes, fine. I have said those things about you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

You search his eyes, trying to find the right words. "Aemond, you fight people. You're dangerous." You say it with a seriousness that misrepresents the thrill that runs through you at the very thought. It's the danger that makes him so appealing.

You sigh, your fingers caressing his face, tracing the strong lines of his jaw. "Must you have such an effect on me?" You mutter, before leaning in to kiss him.

Aemond's lips meet yours in a savage kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth with a fierce intensity. His grip on your throat tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he holds you in place.

When he finally pulls back, you're both breathing heavily, your lips swollen and stinging from the force of his kiss.

"You fuckin' love it," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "You love the danger, the thrill of being with a man who can break you."

"Admit it," he presses, his voice low and dangerous. "You get off on the fact that I could snap anyone's fucking neck with one hand."

Aemond's grip on your throat loosens, his thumb stroking your pulse point in a surprisingly tender gesture.

"Would you ever hurt me?" You whisper, your breath hot on his lips, your faces mere inches apart. A flicker of fear in your eyes, but it's quickly overshadowed by the desire burning within you. You search his gaze, looking for any sign of malice, any hint of danger. But all you see is raw, primal hunger.

Your fingers trace the lines of his jaw. He's so close. It's intoxicating and terrifying at once. You have seen him fight, seen the way he's hurt others with minimal effort. He could break you, shatter you into a million pieces if he wanted to.

Aemond's eyes soften for a moment, a rare vulnerability flickering in their depths. "You think I'd hurt you?" he asks, his voice low and rough. "Baby, I'd die before I let anyone lay a finger on you."

He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. "You're mine," he growls, his voice fierce with possessiveness. "And I protect what's mine."

His hand slides from your throat to your cheek, cupping your face gently. "I may be aggressive, but I'm not a pig," he murmurs, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. "I'd never hurt you, not like that."

"But make no mistake," he whispers, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll hurt anyone who tries to take you from me."

You bite his thumb lightly as he speaks, his possessive demeanour sending a jolt of electricity through you. "Anyone who would hurt me?" You purr, leaning into his touch like a small lamb. His words ignite a fire deep within you, a primal desire to be owned, claimed, and protected.

You know you shouldn't give in to this, but you can't help yourself. The way he looks at you like you are the only woman in the world, it's intoxicating.

Aemond growls low in his throat, his eyes darkening with lust at the feel of your teeth on his skin. "That's right, baby," he purrs, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, tangling in your hair. "You're mine, and I'll fucking kill anyone who tries to take you away from me."

Your breath hitches in your throat at Aemond's words, his dangerous claims sending a shiver down your spine. You meet his gaze, your eyes are wide and full of devotion, a vulnerability you rarely show to anyone.

He tugs you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss. "I'll protect you," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I'll cherish you. I'll fucking worship you."

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. "I'm yours," you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. "Body and soul."

Aemond's eyes flash with fierce triumph at your words, a primal look of satisfaction spreading across his face. "That's right, you're fucking mine," he growls, tugging you closer and crushing his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

"Get dressed, pretty girl. I'm taking you to my place," he demands, leaving no room for argument.

Aemond's eyes blaze with desire as he watches you scramble to put on your clothes, your naked body still slick with his cum. He licks his lips, his cock already hardening again at the sight of you.

He helps you to the passenger seat, smirking. "Hope you don't mind a messy ride."

[hoosbandewan]

Ewan Mitchell + smiling (requested by anon! <3)

[venmondiese]

WEIRD HOBBIES

-ˋˏ| summary: you meet a guy in a bar and decide to go back to his place, as weird as he might seem.

✧ | Pairing: Martin (in the modern world) x reader

✧ | word count: 2.3k

✧ | Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Oral (f/m receiving), 69 position, Martin is weird as hell but a pussy eating champ! Not beta proof<3

“So… what’s your name again?” You ask curiously, walking behind the man that holds your hand, guiding you through his home, and to his bedroom. You don’t complain, though, since you were out just for that; to get home with a handsome man. 

There was this band that you never heard of playing near your house, and it took little for your brain to convince you to go. If something good came from it, you would get fucked. If something bad came from it, well… you hoped for the first one. 

That’s how you ended up here, following a dude, which looks from head to toe like a metal head. His hair goes to his shoulders, coal black, which you assume he dyed it, and some graphic shirt with the words ‘Knotfest’ and all, wearing some metal stuff that you didn’t really know much about.

And you looked like a rock groupie, with a leather top that practically squeezed your tits and a dark jeans miniskirt with some boots. Yet, this mysterious man was still taller than you, and that was quite exciting, and a bit arousing.

“Eh, Martin” he says nonchalantly, as he grabs your hand, his bracelets really end up the detail of his fit, and you feel really horny now to lay with this dude. “Yours?”

You tell Martin your name, following him as he opens his bedroom door. To be fair, it is tidier than you imagined.

“Sorry the mess” he murmurs, moving the drone and an electric guitar out of his bed. You hum, looking around curiously, to the badly positioned posters, some rock-metal bands that you didn’t know about.

“Is that a snake?” You ask, watching the little head of the reptile in the middle of the dim light coming from outside.

“Uh- no, it’s a lizard” 

A guy with a lizard as a pet. Okay.

“What is its name?” 

“Lizard. I don’t like naming them-” 

Great. 

You look at him with a fake smile. The dick better be good you think, taking out your jacket and leaving it on a chair next to the desk.

“Be careful, spider likes to crawl near there”

You took your jacket off there, and you really hoped that he had a dog called spider because otherwise it would be strange as hell.

“Riiiiight” you say, leaving your jacket in a hanger of his opened closet. Whatever. “So… Apart from having a lizard and a spider… do you maybe also have… a cockroach?”

He lets out a huff, his lips turning upwards as he takes his shirt off. “No” Martin says. “I do have another thing, though, it’s very big”

You try to smile at his corny, cringy words. It’s for the dick. You repeat to yourself: The dick better be good. He better not finish in two minutes. He better knows how to eat pussy.

“Ha. Funny” you say as you start to take off those boots.

“How did ya meet the band?”

“Ehmm… A friend dated the brother of an ex of the bassist. I think” you say watching as he frowns his eyebrows slightly trying to make any sense as he lights up a cigarette. 

“ah, nice” he says as he lays on bed as he smokes the cigarette, taking off his shirt as he remains only in those Adidas jeans of his. “Heard the songs before?”

“Once or twice” you say looking at the CD albums stacked on top of each other messily, and you move to grab a solitude piece of paper, as you can practically feel Martin’s eyes on your ass. “I liked the vocalist, quite handsome, don’t you think?” you unwrap softly the paper, away from Martin’s eyes.

It was an address. It piqued your curiosity.

“Aye, come here” his voice is soft as he extends his hand to turn off the cigarette on the glass ashtray, which has the shape of a dragon.

You turn around and walk toward his bed, and watch how he seems eager to have you. It’s hot to have a man drooling for you like Martin is now. And his erection is the living proof of it; it was obvious against his trousers that he was rock hard. You wondered if he was leaking as well. 

You straddle his lap, a smirk forming on your lips as his hands move immediately to your thighs, cold hands moving slowly up to find their way to your ass. 

“Sit on my face” Martin murmurs, words slightly stuck between his pants

“Hm? What was that?” You ask petulantly, pretending not to have heard. 

“Come on, beautiful, sit on my face” he says, pushing your hips closer to his chest, trying to push your miniskirt up.

“Gotta take my panties off” you say softly to him, watching his lips as he licks them, savouring the ghosting taste of you.

“No, like this” he murmurs, eager to taste you. “I’ll eat you from behind even.” Martin proposes, more desperate than the last time “Please”

You might forgive cheesy comments for his eagerness. You sigh with a wide smirk, turning around as Martin places his big hands around your thighs, dragging your centre closer to his face. 

Eager was the wrong word for it; he was desperate.

His hand moved your panties to the side, and his face almost nuzzled your cunt, before starting to press his tongue on your centre. You could hear his groan of pure delight, his hands caressing the skin of your thighs and ass as he delighted himself. 

“Fuck” you said, but it was as if all the air from your lungs when out in that moan. 

Martin’s hands were keeping you still, not allowing you to move your hips to grind his face as you wanted. You could hear his moans, the way he slurped and nuzzled his face on your cunt. 

He was a pro, eating pussy as if he did it every day (maybe he did, god knows), and he didn’t seem to care for his lack of air in the matter. He was on it, devoted to eating your dripping cunt as if it was his last meal on earth.

Your hands are pressed on his stomach, and he has to forcefully let you go to breathe, and you sigh as you feel his breaths. 

“Where did you learn to do that?” You breathe softly, as you can hear how he pants, catching his breath. 

“A good pussy can make a man go feral, love” he says, moving your panties out of the way as his index and middle finger move to rub against your slit. 

He was cheesy, and it was a bit weird. Yet it couldn’t bother you less, you had been with worse men, and Martin was good in other areas…, well, at least in sex and eating out a pussy. And it was more than average, so you were up to it.

Before he decides to keep on eating you, still caressing your clit as he catches his breath, you lean a bit on his torso, to try to pull down the leather pants, opening the zipper. 

It takes you a bit, yet after accomplishing your mission, your hand grabs his dick to guide it into your warm, eager mouth. 

He was well doted, and hard as a rock. He was leaking, and his tip was a bit pink compared with the rest of his cock. 

God damn you if it didn’t make your mouth drool. Between him eating you out, and his leaking cock, you think you will go insane. He could have cheeky, cringe comments but you could live with it. You couldn’t live without him eating you out or his cock. 

You are as enthusiastic with his cock as he is. Though, you start slower. You take the head on your mouth, sucking on it as you feel him groan against your pussy. It was fucking hot, and it had you moaning on his cock. You didn’t remember the last time your legs were trembling like this, and how much you wanted to feel a dick in your throat. It was a need, a primal need.

Martin was kind and nice, had his things, but god, you need to fuck him. You might even need to have his babies by now. You wouldn’t complain if he came all inside you, filling you with his cum, and making you pregnant. Fuck, it even turned you more on. What was this man doing to you?

You took more of his dick in your mouth, trying to take all of it, not minding if you choke on it. He was hot. More than hot, in truth.

Martin was relentless with his tongue, lapping at your cunt again and again, moaning loudly against it as he could feel how deep you were taking his cock in your mouth. Your hand moved to cup his balls, as your tongue tried to swirl around his tip. It drove him insane. 

It was not long before you started to cum, moaning loudly, his dick slipping from your mouth as your thighs pressed against his face, riding his face and nose as he was making you cum. His tongue was as greedy as him, and he worked with his nose along your slit. And it made you cum hard, rolling your eyes back. “Fuck, Martin, just like that…” You say, hips grinding against his mouth in a desperate need to stretch the feeling a bit more. 

And once you finish, your mouth goes back to his cock, to keep on sucking him off. “Fuck, you feel incredible” he rasped, as you moved forward, closer to his cock and have full access, as Martin’s hips pumped upwards to fuck your mouth. 

You lay on his chest, his face back on the pillow, moaning loudly as you seem to try to drain him completely, deepthroating him as if it was nothing at all.

“Fuck, you are going to make me cum” He says, teeth gripped as his hand moves to grab a fist of your hair, to move your head down to allow him fuck your mouth deep as he wanted. His own head titles back in pure bliss and pleasure, moaning loudly as he uses your mouth as a desperate animal in need to cum. Not that you complain, it costs a bit more to breathe, and you were almost choking, but hearing Martin be so local, groaning, moaning and grunting was worth it. 

His cum soon fills your mouth, and he keeps you still, the signal clear for you to swallow all of it, as his throbbing cock unleashed his hot cum. 

“Swallow it… fuck, swallow it all, take what I give you…” he mutters in pure bliss.

As the last drops of cum are licked off his cock, he leans back and you move to his side. 

“That was great” You mutter, looking at the ceiling. How could he be so great at it?

“Yeah. Cig break and round two?”

“Hell yeah”

You are with your friend when you search the location in the paper that you found in Martin’s room. You were supposed to go to the club, you were wearing your miniskirt and a top, really to party, but that man had eaten your pussy and fucked you like no one before, so you felt entitled to find what that was for.

“It’s cold” Your friend, Tamara, says. She was chewing gum as she followed you begrudgingly. 

“It’s a fucking parking lot?” You ask looking around the empty street, the night made it lonely yet not totally isolated. 

“Your darling buries the bodies here” Your friend says, obviously judging it all. “Can we go?”

“Look, there is a car” you point out, as the car seems to be jumping around due to the movements inside. “Gods, you think they are having sex?”

“Ew, you think he has a brothel in his car?” Tamara asks you, looking at the car as you both get closer. “Eww and you fucked without a condom… You could get an IST, and die”

“It is called an STD, and… I think he is not fucking anyone” you frown slightly, getting closer.

“Careful! What if his pimp is here…?”

“He is fighting someone!” You say looking inside the car, as you find Martin pressing the head of the other guy against the window. 

Surely, Martin was a weird dude. He was corny as hell, and he had pets called like the species they were. Sure. He almost burned his hair as he smoked after sex, yes; and he also ate pussy like a champ and was hung as a horse. 

“I am going there” You tell your friends. “The dick is worth it”

“Yikes” 

As you walk closer, you feel your friend either staying behind or walking away, not that you care. 

Martin had blood trailing down his forehead, and was lying in the passenger’s seat as his thighs choked the other guy he was with, holding his head still with his hands. Okay, whatever, a guy can have hobbies.

When he sees you, he starts rolling down the window of the car, as you lean closer to his height.

“Hey, darling- how did ya–”

“A girl has her secrets” you say, smiling as you see him. God, he was sexy as hell. “I want my pussy eaten” 

Martin smirks, and he leans back to sigh at your request, as if the idea delights him. He still applies pressure to the other dude, who seems to pass out. Martin leans forward closer to your lips and whispers “Will ya’ wait ten minutes as I finish with this round?”

“Three” You bargain.

“Seven.”

“Three”

“Five and I’ll make you cum twice.” His final offer, and the time you had in mind. Offering lower than one wants always seems work to get your official deal, even with an extra.

“Deal” you accept with a smirk. 

And what if he was fighting inside a car? You fancied Martin, and sure as hell he fancied you. Even if he has weird hobbies. 

[barbieaemond]

EWAN MITCHELL as MARTIN in It's amazing to be young by FONTAINES DC

[sqwilliam]

ALEX RECENTS AND HIM WITH MATT FROM THE FONTAINES DC SHOW IN LA 20 MINUTES AGO!

[lavenderinoz]

Metalhead versus Dragon Prince

[atearinspaceairlock]

EWAN MITCHELL & GRACE COLLENDER as MARTIN & JENNIFER aka SPIDER in the music video for It's Amazing to Be Young by Fontaines D.C.

[myfandomprompts]

EWAN MITCHELL as Martin

Fontaines DC - It's Amazing To Be Young

[fayesia]

Freak

Martin (In The Modern World - Fontaines D.C.)

warnings: nsfw 18+, readers lowkey mean to Martin, p in v, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, doggy style, handjob, squirting, fingering, spit play, creampie, hair pulling, rimming (brief), p with a little plot, filthy words on a screen :D

You were always cautious. Walking the same route home. Past the cobbled roads, the dark forested pine trees, and old abandoned buildings. None screamed safety nor comfort, neither of which you expected when moving into the area.

As long a you were free. Successfully escaping the pressures in your life, the heavy weight of hands pressing and pulling you, moulding you, into what they wanted you to become.

So, yes, maybe walking the same route every day to get home wasn't ideal. But neither was the sight you had to witness as you walked across the parking lot in front of your house. The car parked in it. The only car.

In it was him. Your neighbour. That freak. That beautiful fucking freak. A man clambered out, shoving the passenger door open while blood ran from his nose and mouth. His neck marked with ligatures of varying pink and red hues. Pushing past the small crowd forming he briskly stumbled away, the crowd shifting as people left and newcomers joined.

You know you should've kept walking, walking the same damn route, but you didn't. What's that's saying? Curiosity killed the cat. Well, consider yourself the cat.

Making your way over to the edge of the crowd, you stood watching, keeping at least a meter distance so as not to draw attention. His head turned to the window, the side one facing you. His mouth dropped open to reveal a blue stained tongue. Freak. You grimaced. Yet your eyes were unable to remove themselves from the sight in front of you. Your legs were stuck, glued to the cement, your brain ordered them to move, but no movement was made.

Your eyes focused on the scene in front of you, snapping you out of your disassociation, the shuffling of the crowd parting ways. Boys rode off on their bikes, women clutched their bags whispering with one another, and hooker resembling teenagers scoffed sauntering off, losing interest at the dark-haired man in the car.

The very one slumped in the car seat, heavily battered and bloodied as well as unconscious.

You turned to leave, taking two steps before swivelling back on your heels. You stood considering for a few moments the result of what your actions may cause. If the butterfly affect would, in fact, impact what was to happen due to your next decision. Well fuck that, you don't really care about the result of your actions, at least not since you moved here.

Pulling the drivers side door open, you leaned in, tentatively you waved your hand across his face. Was he awake yet? No.

Fuck. Well then. Poking him didn't work either. Grabbing his shoulders, you leaned closer.

"Martin. Martin. Wake up, Martin!"

He grumbled, regaining consciousness, but also the from the pain of his injuries. Pulling him up from the seat, a task proven easier than expected due to his thin build. It suited him. In his own way. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, you hauled him the short walk to your house beside his. The height difference made it more a half drag on his part. You spoke in hopes of providing some comfort.

"Nearly there, Martin. Nearly home."

You didn't really like the freak, but you weren't a heartless human. His reptiles had escaped to your garden more times than he'd like to take responsibility for, and so had his toy helicopter. Resulting in more hostile neighbourly conversations between the both of you than you'd have liked, considering the majority of them happened at 2am, when he was normally awake.

Unlocking the front door, you manoeuvred Martin's flopping body onto a kitchen chair, dragging it across the floor with a loud screech that jolted him awake.

"What are you doing?"

"Calm down. I'm just trying to help. Now sit still."

You didn't mind the silence, wetting some paper towels with rubbing alcohol as you gently wiped the blood and grime off his pasty white skin. The kitchen was filled by the low hum of your broken refrigerator and the hisses coming from Martin's mouth with every swipe against his skin. His eyes followed you, throwing away the dirty tissues and packing up the first aid kit, placing it in the cupboard before making your way back to the sink.

Stood across from the seated Martin he looked up, shifting in his seat with a pink hue dusted over his cheeks.

"Guess I should go then."

"Umm yeah, let me see you out."

You both walk to the door in silence until his voice scratches out down the hallway.

"You wouldn't happen to have seen my snake have you...I left the side window open again...you know-uhm the one across from your garden."

"Again! Seriously! How many times have I told you. I don't want to see that creepy snake in my garden. What if it bites me -"

"Hey! He's friendly."

"No, i doubt that. It's probably a freak. Like you!"

He angered at your words harshly shoving you against the hallways narrow walls. There was barely any space for two people to walk, so being pinned left you feeling even more trapped. It was like the temperature had increased ten fold, your eyes widened at the close proximity between the two of you. He breath was hot and heavy against the side of your face, daring you to keep talking, but you knew better, rather content with glaring at him.

His fingers dug past the material of your faux fur coat while yours held tightly on his forearms. The silence seemed to drag on with the two of you looking into each others eyes. But it was more than that, both looking past each others iris, the pupils and the nerves, looking into each others souls.

And then he kissed you. Just like that.

His lips were on yours, and you could taste the distinctive artificial flavoured candy only just overpowered by the cigarette he must've smoked earlier.

It was suffocating and comforting. Yet freeing and ferocious. As if you had finally given into a craving after so long, like you were sinning after years of celibacy.

Your hands grappled at each other clothes, needing to remove the thick confines you were in. Various articles of clothing littered the hallway, creating a breadcrumb trail to your bedroom. His hands dug into your hair, only deepening the kiss once you were straddling his lap on your bed. Oxygen wasn't a necessity in this moment. It was the taste of each other that you both were surviving off of.

Discarding your bra, Martin removed his shirt, leaving him in his boxers. He positioned you on all fours facing away. Cold, long fingers dragged your panties off you, and you were bare to him, no feeling of shame, just need, as your arch deepened. His hand caressed the path of your spine where he lay gentle kisses, kneeling behind you, he played with the softness of your thighs and hips. The silent room was now filled by your whines of pleasure.

His mouth was on you, exploring every part of you, tasting and savouring you like it was his last meal. His tongue traced from your leaking hole down to your clit where his lips suckled more noises from you. He brought two fingers to your cunt, spreading your folds as his tongue moved through the mess of your juices and his spit, only spreading it down your inner thighs. You pressed back against Martin's face, moaning out in pleasure but his hands hooked around your thighs holding you in place while his mouth worked on you.

You were so close. "Fuck yes just like that, I'm gonna fucking come don't stop- don't you dare fucking stop."

Your words only spurred Martin on, his thumb prodded at your hole wetting it with a mix of fluids before unexpectedly moving it to your tighter hole above. The action drawing out even louder noises from you. He smiled at that and you could feel the change of expression against your pussy. "Come for me."

You didn't need asking twice, clenching the bedsheets you whined into them, your cunt gushing around Martin's tongue and drenching the bottom half of his face. Small droplets ran down his chest as you fell flat against the mattress, angling your head to see a smiling Martin.

God, what a freak.

But you thought it with a small smile this time.

One that was covered by Martin's lips once again, his body embraced yours. You tugged at his boxers, and he pulled them off barely separating from you before leaning his head back to groan up at the ceiling. Your hand wrapped tightly around his cock. It fit comfortably in your hand, what lacked in girth was made up by length.

He thrust into your hand, jerking to feel more stimulation from you, which you were sure to provide. You were comfortably laying with his cock in your hand, his hand moving to separate your thighs, leaving you open to him. His hand coming down to explore your pussy while your hand continued working on him. Entering two of his fingers you arched at the movements, your own fingers were not of the same length or thickness. Moaning out, Martin was kneeling beside you, your hand jerking him off as his fingers worked in and out of you, his thumb occasionally rubbing against your clit.

It was art. The type the Greeks would've painted. The type found in the Renaissance era.

Pure pleasure and carnal desire.

You felt your release nearing, but when Martin twitched in your hand, he removed his fingers and moved. You huffed in annoyance about to speak your mind, but his hands grabbed your body, quickly flipping you over, the same way he did to the men in that car.

Pulling your hips up and pushing your back down, you were in the same arched position as before. He breathed heavily, almost hesitant, but the teasing movement of your ass was almost too much for him to bear. Holding his cock he spat onto your cunt as he pushed the leaking tip through your folds, only further adding to the mess of your pussy.

The tightness wrapped around his cock, almost pushing him out, but the further he entered, the more your cunt sucked him in.

The two of you made noises that bounced off the walls and were certainly heard from outside your window, neither you could give less of a fuck though. His hand clutched your hair while the other guided your hips back against him with each thrust. There was nothing gentle about his movements but that only made you crave more, the feeling of his cock entering you roughly with each movement had you releasing more liquid along the length of him. It collected around the base of his cock making his movements pass easier.

He hauled you up by your hair, his front pressed against your back, his lips against your ear, licking and nipping at the soft flesh. Bringing your hands up to his head, you pulled him into a kiss. Your fingers ran through his slightly greasy hair, the black soft locks tightly wrapped around your fingers while his tongue explored your mouth.

The change of position only prompted his dick to reach even deeper inside of you. Your moans increased while his hands moved around your body, first around your throat, then down to your tits where he roughly grabbed at them and pulled at your nipples, finally coming down to your clit where his fingers rubbed harshly, spreading more of your wetness around.

That was your breaking point. Your hands reached for anything to hold onto, which was Martin's forearm. Your sharp nails dug harshly into his skin, marking it with red crescent shapes, and his dick pummeled harder into you. The both of you were nearing release. Whispering into your ear, he urged you,

"Come for me. Come around my cock, wanna feel you fuckin' tighten your pussy 'round me."

And so you did.

With a few more thrusts into you, he bottomed out as you threw your head back, moaning Martians name. You doubt he would realise with how much noise it was said with.

But he did. He relished in it.

He'd go so far to believe its what made him cum as quick as he did after you. Still deep in you his cock released his cum, with near animalistic groans and arms that embraced you tightly, willing to never let go.

The thick liquid collected inside you and as his now soft dick was pulled out you could feel it drip out between your thighs, his face nuzzled into the side of your neck as the two of your softly caught your breath, relishinng in the sex of pent up tension. The sheets now soiled by your choices. The result of angry words said in the flurry of an argument.

The consequence of fucking your freak neighbour.

[mitchellnman]

Always Hungry.

MDNI.

PAIRING: Martin x reader

WARNINGS: pwp, mentions of bruises and scrapes (martin) pussy eating. Reader is afab, but there's no gendered pronouns or use of y/n. Hastily written, no beta reader we die like victorian children.

WORD COUNT: 942.

A/N: Hi hello I haven't written a fic in 2 years but Martin made me crawl from my grave please enjoy!

—

Martin's room smelled like incense. Cheap incense, bought online with a holder that made the smoke look like a waterfall. Martin only burned the incense to cover up the smell of sex and sweat, in case the landlord came knocking. It mostly worked, unless you pulled back the blankets on his bed. Then, it was all him, musky and heady and sweet, and you, more or less the same.

He was feeding his skink some blue worms, to match his blue eyes, and the blue candy that poked out from between his lips. He smiled. Martin always smiled when his skink ate, her blue tongue flicking out. She was a silly little creature, lacking a few brain cells, but cute nonetheless. More importantly, she seemed to like you, when you scratched under her chin, or held her little hands with your fingertips. Martin liked it too.

He was shirtless, only in a pair of black jeans that hung low on his hips. You followed the curve of his spine with your eyes from under his hair, down to his waist, and further down, his pants only halfway covering his perfect ass. He was covered in bruises, scrapes, and what you supposed you could call rope burn, from seatbelts digging into his skin. He was beautiful in a nihilistic sort of way, as if Chuck Palahniuk had specialized in paintings instead of novels.

You pushed away from the wall you were leaning on as you watched him, unable to resist touching him anymore. Your cheek brushed over his shoulder, fingers tracing up his sides. He smelled like you, and like sugar. His jaw flexed as his tongue rasped over the candy. Your hands moved up his back, cold fingers on warm skin.

Martin set the skink down in her tank and turned around in your grasp. He regarded you for a long moment, his eyes piercing as he tried to read your mind. You had half a mind to tell him everything you thought. His fingers cupped your chin, and tapped your lips. A wordless request for you to open your mouth. You did, and he brought his lips to yours, pushing the blue raspberry candy into your mouth. You kissed around it, your senses overwhelmed by the artificial flavor. Blue raspberry, what was it, really? Certainly nothing that occurred in nature.

His black hair fell around both of your faces, shielding you from the sunlight that was streaming in through the window. He made an obscene moan, and pushed the rest of the candy into your mouth with his tongue.

"Finish it." He whispered. His blue tongue darted out, and licked your lips. He smiled, a devilish thing that could only mean sin was on his mind. With that knowledge, you took his hands, and walked backwards to the bed. Your thighs hit the mattress, and you fell back. Your tongue pressed the candy to the roof of your mouth so you didn't choke on it.

He descended upon you like an animal, ravenous after starving for days, his hands pushing your shirt up over your ribs. His blue tongue darted out and licked your skin, teasing for only a moment. Then he bit down, nipping at your stomach with that same grin. His large hand squeezed your crotch, concealed by a pair of his sweatpants. His palm pressed against you, slowly massaging you through the fabric.

Martin sucked a mark into your skin, below your belly button. His head dipped down further, sniffing at your crotch, his nose pushing against your clit.

You smiled, and your hands found a home in his hair. It was a little greasy to be sure, but it was soft on your fingers, and he moaned so sweetly when you tugged on his dark locks.

His clever hands tugged your pants down around your ankles, and he didn't give you a moment to breathe. How could he, when you were the best thing he'd ever tasted? Vaguely, he wondered if he could make a candy that tasted like you.

His tongue swiped over your clit, and you shivered with want. Your thighs pressed against his cheeks as his head dipped lower, intent on devouring you.

"Martin," you gasped. "I have to go to work—"

You could feel him smile against you, his breath hot against your cunt as he laughed.

"Should have thought of that before..." He teased, utterly merciless. He pushed two fingers inside of you with ease, still slick from last night, and this morning. In fact, he could still taste himself inside of you.

Your back arched as he found your sweet spot with a practiced ease. Your hands curled in his hair, and the moans he made sent vibrations straight up your spine, like a low bass played from a quality speaker.

He coaxed you to your peak, and you came with a loud cry, your vision going utterly white with previews of heaven. He held you in place as you thrashed, a large hand pressing into your thigh.

When you opened your eyes again, his head was on your stomach, cheek resting against your skin. Martin was smiling, obviously pleased with himself. His nose and chin were shiny with spit and slick, his chest pressed against your core, just enough to keep your body thrumming.

“Call out. Spend the day with me.” He said. His fingers traced over your skin, drawing nonsensical patterns, writing invisible sheet music that only made sense to him.

“Martin…”

“Please.”

It was hard to resist him. Him with his blue lips, and shiny chin. Him with his black, messy hair. You sighed, and admitted defeat.

“Fine.”

[ggirlthatgotaway]

Not Cold Any Longer (modern au)

summary: Aemond is that guy you’ve known since you were kids, the one you’ve never talked to and that had gotten fucking weird. But you end up becoming friends, and you find out that not only he’s right about your shit boyfriend, but also that he’s a fucking ride that can keep you boiling hot all the time.

trigger warning: explicit language, mention of useless men, mention of Franz Ferdinand, sexual content, name calling, choking, slapping, loving, maybe other things.

word count: 6.2k

note: Aemond is not hotd-Aemond but the FontainesDC-hottie-freak (fuck me<3) . also english is my 3rd language and i haven’t written a complete smut since i was 13 (read, don’t judge) so yeah do tell me what you think

-💎

The cold air of the night was hitting your face, and it stung your skin despite your best efforts to hide it in the collar of your jacket. You didn’t want to go back home, you wanted to keep walking, to go to him.

From your house to his, there was a six-minute drive, which meant a forty-five-minute walk for someone who walked quickly. Perfect, you thought to yourself as you glanced around the dark street, not a sound to be heard.

Your mind raced back to earlier that day, to the reason why you were walking to his house. His words replayed in your mind over and over: “Don’t you fuckin’ understand?! Really?” he had shouted, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, but a hint of sadness was lacing them. He had tried to hide it, as always, like the rest of his emotions.

He had already told you that you were able to understand him despite his precautions- “I don’t fancy how ye keep readin’ me mind, love.” he had said with a soft grin and happy eyes. But that was a completely different circumstance; it was something light, about why he had started inviting you to gigs instead of bringing his friend, Sal.

Anyway, him telling you that you didn’t understand had your heart twisting in pain, both when those words had left his mouth and when you thought about them again.

He had gotten angry because of what you’d told him had happened with Ed, your boyfriend. His eyes had widened when you told him he’d left you waiting for an hour yesterday, because he ‘got distracted with his friends, and forgot to pick you up from your shift’. It was your anniversary.

But that wasn’t why Aemond had shouted to you that you didn’t understand- that came after. Earlier today, your phone had rang with his call: he had told you he was nearby, that his Ma had asked him to buy some bread before leaving for her shift, and if you minded if he stayed over a bit.

Spending time with him had become the highlight of your day recently, so a smile had curved your lips as you told him yes. He had arrived with a CD in his hands, “I know you like this shit.” he told you then, showing you the new album by Franz Ferdinand you had been planning to buy for weeks now.

You had gasped, and started covering his cheeks with kisses despite his half-hearted efforts to get away from your grip- half-hearted because his arm had already sneaked to hold your waist. “You’re mental.” you had told him with wide eyes, but he had just tutted and shrugged, leaving the CD on your desk and throwing himself on your bed.

“How did it go with the eejit?” he had asked you then, referring to Ed and your anniversary. His arm had been covering his eyes, but he took it away and looked at you when you hadn’t answered. “What did he do?” he had asked with a sigh.

You had briefly glanced at him before letting your gaze fall on the white and burgundy sheets of your bed. He wasn’t one who let go of this kind of things- not with you, at least- and you had known an answer was necessary if you weren’t planning on having him shut up and stare into your eyes for three hours.

So you had sighed heavily and brought your eyes back on his, “He didn’t show up.”

At your words, he had looked like he had stopped breathing. Then, he’d sunken his teeth into his lips, closed his eyes and let out a low and deep breath. “You’re aware he’s still breathing because you want him to?”

His eyes had opened again, and he’d directed them to you, waiting for your answer. When you’d nodded, he had continued: “Changed your mind?” he’d asked you, his tone slightly pleading, with a hint of hope. But you’d shaken your head.

You had seen his eyes closing again, and he’s let out another deep breath. “What did you do, then?”

“I walked.”

Silence had filled the air between you two once again, until he’d straightened up and sat on the edge of your bed. He had ran a hand on his face and settled his elbows on his knees, “You walked… Didn’t call me?”

“It’s just a ten minute walk.” you had tried to explain with a shake of your head, but he had stopped you.

“And now your throat aches.”

You had bitten the inside of your cheek at that. You were always cold, always wore two pairs of trousers to go to school, always had as many blankets as possible on your bed. Aemond knew, and each time you stepped foot into his house he had the kettle on, and the blanket that held the most warmth was folded and waiting on the couch, and he asked you right away if you wanted that ugly but incredibly warm sweater he never wore.

“It doesn’t.” you had told him, and it was true, because you were still healing from the last time you had the flue, and your antibodies were still strong.

“Mh.” he had said, nodding. You had never seen anger simmering quite as much as it did in him in that moment. “Why don’t you fucking leave him, mh? Still fuckin’ think he deserves you?” he had said, his voice rising at every word. “I’m genuinely curious, love- tell me.”

“Aemond…” you had said, interrupting yourself with a sigh. He had got up from the bed and walked over to the window, leaning his hands on the ledge. “I like him when he’s with me.”

“Well, that’s a fucking pathetic thing to say.” he had told you before turning around, his eyes as hard as ice, “That’s because you can’t find a bloody nice thing to say ‘bout him.”

“He’s still me boyfriend, though-“ you had tried to say before his shouts filled the room.

“And he shouldn’t fuckin’ be! It’s your fault he still is,” he had said, pointing a finger in your direction, “and it makes me fucking mental just thinking about it.”

“Then don’t, Aemond! It’s none of your fucking business!” you had tried to retort, but you had told it to yourself how daft your words had sounded, since it was Aemond the one always available to listen to you yap about how shite Ed made you feel while barely containing tears in your eyes.

“Shut up, don’t even fucking play this card with me!” he had yelled at you before taking a deep breath and pushing his black hair out of his face. That still hadn’t tamed the tone of his voice when he’d spoken again, “Don’t you fuckin’ understand?! Really?!” his eyes had been wide as he looked at you with a hint of desperation in hie voice, a hand held out to you in hope.

But your brows had furrowed, and your eyes had expressed nothing but confusion as you’d looked at him.

His hand had fallen and slapped his thigh, “Leave him, or don’t fucking talk to me again.”

He had walked away then, leaving you with wide eyes and the security that those words weren’t what he had been thinking about when he had told you that you didn’t understand.

And you admitted it to yourself as you walked to Aemond’s house at midnight, with the freezing cold of February seeping into your bones, that you might have waited a bit much to act on whatever you needed to act on.

But you did pat yourself on the shoulder for the strong punch you’d landed on Ed’s nose about an hour ago- which, in all honesty, was something you’d learnt from Aemond and the lessons he gave you so you could ‘have a wee chance to survive if they attacked you on the street’, if someone was to say it with his words.

After you had exited Ed’s house, a mischievous grin plastered on your lips, your thoughts had gone to Aemond right away, thinking about his laugh when you would have told him what you’d done. Your smile had fallen.

But it was fine, you told yourself as you walked faster in the dark night, because you were going to fix everything.

The truth was, you had never felt quite as empty as you did when Aemond had left your room that evening. And you had already known there that you needed to go to Ed’s and leave him- which you realised hurt your hand way more than it did your heart.

Aemond was right. Fucking Aemond Targaryen, the lad that wanted to talk to nobody at school except for you and Sal Quinn, the one that wanted no glimpse of a relationship, was right.

You needed to walk faster.

You took out your phone and flipped it open, pondering on whether or not to call him and ask him to pick you up on the street where Mae Allbrook lived. Realising that would have needed to stay still for at least three minutes as you waited for him, you flipped your phone closed and put it back into the pocket of your jeans.

You definitely didn’t do it because Aemond would have screamed at you for the entire ride back to his house- or better yet, for the ride and for the ten minutes he’d spend heating your hands up by rubbing them between his.

No, it was better to make your grand entrance at his house and have him freak out there, while you sat in front of the fire in his living room.

You let out a sigh when you saw the old, ruined red car, weakly lit by the nearby light pole. You almost ran to the door and jumped over the low gate, before taking out your phone again.

“Aemond,” you said when he answered. You heard the sigh he let out, and you understood how affected he, too, was about what had happened earlier that day. “I’m outside.”

He didn’t close the call after those words left your mouth, but you heard a stomp, and understood that he hadn’t even closed the call before launching himself off his bed and running downstairs.

The front door swung open in front of you, making your hair fly in front of your face. He didn’t wait for you to step inside, deciding instead to take matters into his own hands and grab your jacket to pull you in roughly.

Before you knew, he was muttering to himself behind you, his hands passing over your thighs over and over to heat them up. “You feel your hands yet?” he asked gruffly, not even trying to hide how he still remembered your last conversation word by word.

You nodded and said, “I’m not that cold.” but he tutted and shook his head, not believing a word. “Care to tell me the fuck you’re doing?” he finally asked.

“Apologising.” you answered after some seconds, slightly distracted by the way his wide palms transferred heat into the skin of your thighs. “You were right.”

You turned your head to look at him behind you, and he let out a sigh, stilling his movements and leaving his hands on the top of your legs. He threatened to move them to your hips, his movements slow and unsure, before his warm palms left your body and he got up on his feet, making you look at him from the floor, “I’m tired. Tell me if I have to bring you home or you crash here.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, getting up from the floor and grabbing your own arm with a hand. “Can I stay over?”

You saw the hesitation in his eyes as they met yours, but then he nodded towards the stairs, and you followed him to his room.

“Change.” he told you with an assertive tone once you reached his room, putting a hand in his wardrobe and throwing that ugly sweater and a pair of sweatpants at you.

You pressed your lips together to stifle a grin at his annoyed actions. But as you went to the bathroom to change, you couldn’t help but think about what his expression would be like when you finally told him.

His room was always quite dark and warm, and the dim light that came from the tank he kept Vhagar in made everything seem blue.

You approached him slowly, nibbling at the skin inside your lower lip as his eyes went from the ash tray set on his nightstand to you.

You could see the smoke of his Benson and Hedges coming out of his nose and going upwards. “Come here.” he said then, slightly defeated, but only half-heartedly.

So you climbed onto his bed and he reached out with a hand to touch your waist. “Still cold…” he muttered to himself before deciding to bring you closer to him.

He put off his cigarette on the ashtray and held you with his arms wrapped around you, a hand on the curve of your hip. “I’m sorry.” you told him, looking in his blue eyes you couldn’t quite see.

He didn’t say anything about your apology, but you felt his hand twitch on your hip. “What did you think you were doing, walking alone at this time?”

His features were lightened by those soft blue hues, making the sharp angles of his face even more so. You raised your hand and trailed your finger on his cheekbone. His skin was hot, and you felt him stop breathing at your touch. Your hand dropped back on the bed, “I left him.”

You started to worry when you didn’t see him starting to breathe again, but then he talked, “You’re not lying?”

When you shook your head in no, his hand tightened on your hip drastically. “Fuckin’ finally.” he said, letting out a deep breath. “What did he do?”

“Nothing,” you said with a shrug, “He just sat there, holding his nose after I punched him.”

You saw Aemond’s eyes widen, and the corners of his mouth curled up until they formed a wide grin. He started laughing, his chest shaking as he shook his head. “Wonderful woman…” he muttered, leaning his mouth on your shoulder, making goosebumps spread wildly on your skin.

He started caressing your hip then, going dangerously close to your arse as he always did. But still, what you felt was a deep sense of peace there: at his house, in his arms, surrounded by the smell of smoke and green tea that clung to his skin.

You’d known each other since you were kids, since way before he had started dying his hair black and got into the metal music he had definitely been listening to before you called him.

But you had never really talked until four months ago. You had your friends, he had his, all outside of school, and you both had never bothered trying to talk. It had all changed in a matter of days after an English Literature project.

It felt weird when you thought about it, trusting someone the way you did him after so few time, even if you’d known him for ever, because you’d never really talked.

“You know I love you, right?” you said then. It was out of the blue, really, but you couldn’t help it.

Those three words seemed to hit him more than you intended them to. He paused the movement of his hand on your hips and cleared his throat, straightening himself slightly. He still didn’t answer, though, but simply sighed and left a kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t care about you saying it back: I just want you to know I love you.” you said hurriedly but calmly, distancing yourself slightly to look at him, finally able to do it properly since your eyes adjusted to the dark.

He let out a snorted laugh at your words, and shook his head. “D’you think I don’t love you?” he asked you, his voice low and husky. His grip on your hip tugged you close so you were sitting on top of him, “That’s not the problem, princess.”

“I don’t understand-“ you tried to argue, but he laughed again, interrupting you.

“You do, love… You do.” he said before leaning close to your ear. His nose brushed against your earlobe, his lips against your jaw as his breath ghosted your skin and he murmured lowly, “You got me wrapped around your finger... Got me doing whatever you want me to.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Your hand was gripping his shoulder and your nails were definitely digging in his skin through his sweater, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“And now…” he whispered , interrupting himself to let out an unironic laugh and shaking his head. “Now you’re sitting on my lap, pretending not to notice how fucking hard my cock is for you.”

You were breathing fast, so fast you felt the blood pumping in your ears, and his words did nothing to quell that. His smirk remained on his lips as he brought his cold blue eyes back to yours.

He tilted his head to the side, a strand of his dark, dyed hair falling over his eyes. “What do you plan on doing about it, then?” he asked, the teasing tone still present. But the way his eyes darkened, the way his grip on your hip tightened, told a different story.

Was it real what he’d said? That he loved you, craved you so much that his cock was rock hard after barely five minutes of you sitting on him?

“About…” you said, pressing your lips together, trying to gather the courage to complete the sentence. You found it when the corner of his mouth quirked up again and both his hands found their way to your arse, squeezing it and pulling you flush against him. The action made you let out a small sigh, but you decided not to let yourself fear him, so you raised a hand and brought the strand of black hair away from his face. “What do I plan on doing about your cock?” you said in a whisper.

His mouth curved into a smirk and he breathed out another laugh due to your words. He was usually the dirty one, even if you still didn’t exactly know how dirty he was. “Yeah, ‘bout that…” he confirmed with two slight nods of his head. “Now that you’re fully aware of what you do to me.” he added, letting out a deep breath.

One hand remained firm on your arse, keeping you right where he wanted you, while the other moved up to your face. He traced the line of your jaw with his thumb, feeling the softness of your skin and the pulse quickening beneath it. In that moment, all the cold you had felt as you had walked to his house for forty minutes was completely forgotten, disappeared in your mind like ash after a breath.

“What do you think I should do?” you asked, swallowing harshly. You suddenly felt stupid for the question, and you did even more when he snorted out another laugh.

He leaned forward, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "Why don't ye use your imagination, Princess?" he whispered huskily. The hand on your face slid back, cupping your cheek as his thumb continued to brush against your lower lip.

“Okay…” you whispered out in a breath as you nodded. Then you slowly leaned into the brief distance that separated you two, brushing your lips against his before pressing them into a kiss.

It was rushed, definitely stupid, but you wanted to try and see how it felt. His lips had always looked rough to you, chipped and bloodied in winter, but now, against yours, they were soft, boiling hot, sweet and incredibly inviting.

His hand tightened its grip on your arse, pulling you even closer to his body as his other hand tangled itself in your hair, angling your head for better access to your mouth.

His kiss was even gentle, which surprised you, but more than anything it made you want more. When his grip on your hair tightened and pulled on it just enough to make you wet but not enough to hurt excessively, a moan came up your throat and overturned into his mouth.

He pulled away before capturing your lower lip between his teeth and letting it go. His hand slapped your arse, making you jolt forward and making him laugh. “Slut.” he muttered, closing the distance between you two again.

You let out a chuckle against his lips, and started grinding your hips against his. Right away, he groaned and pulled you closer still, eagerly helping you with your movements.

His other hand moved from your cheek to your neck, fingers gripping gently but firmly. "Is that what you want, princess?" he growled, breaking the kiss briefly to let you breathe. His eyes bore into yours, dark with lust. "You want to feel me inside you?" he asked, voice strained and husky.

You were slightly startled by his hand around your throat, by his thumb stroking your pulse point like it was the most fragile and precious thing in his world. You bit your lower lip and your hands wrapped around the wrist of the hand that was holding you, which made his lips part in what looked like feral hunger, before nodding.

Your response was everything he needed to hear. His hand on your neck tightened slightly as he claimed your mouth once more, kissing you harder. His hips thrust upward, pushing his erection against your core, as if to emphasize his words. He let go of your hair, his hand trailing down your back until it reached your waist.

His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, nipping at your skin before tracing a scorching path down to your neck. He loved the way you moaned when he bit you there, and he did so again, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. "Fuck…" he breathed against your skin, his fingers digging into your waist. He seemed to need to feel you, to make sure this whole thing was real. "Use your words, Princess."

A whine escaped your lips before you were able to reply, and you felt completely daft other then drenched between your thighs. “Yes,” you said, your words like a plea, “I want you inside of me.”

His eyes bore in yours for two seconds before he pushed you off him, making you land on your hands on the mattress. He pulled himself up, standing on his knees on the bed, “Take your clothes off.” he ordered with a nod of his head as he stared down at you, his tone leaving no space for arguing.

With a heavy chest, mouth parted and eyes wide, you complied. You unzipped his black jumper, trying not to be clumsy as you slipped it off your arms.

Still, Aemond seemed unable to wait, because he quickly threw the jumper off the bed before his fingers found the bow you tied to the string of his sweatpants.

He undid it as you took your shirt off. “How many fuckin’ pair of trousers you’ve got on?!” he growled, both bothered and amused when he found a pair of leggings under the sweats.

You let out a chuckle as he did the same, shaking his head as he pulled the first layer of fabric off roughly, before doing the same with the second.

He stopped when you were left with only your underwear, and he stared bluntly, pressing his lips together as his chest raised and fell heavily.

You moved your right leg to brush its calf against his clothed thigh, your eyes on his. His hissed in a breath, his hand gripping your thigh like he wanted to rip off the meat to eat it. “It’s your turn.” you whispered as you let your leg wander higher.

The action gained you his grip to tighten and a slap to be delivered to your thigh. But he complied, pulling his t-shirt off from the collar and blindly throwing it somewhere before pulling down his trousers.

He put a hand on your knee and settled between your thighs, crushing his mouth against yours once again. The roughness of Aemond's touch sent sparks flying across your skin, igniting a fire within you that burned out of control. He pressed you further into the mattress, his body aligning perfectly with yours. You could feel every inch of his bare torso, each ripple of muscle and scar, his heat enveloping you like a living flame.

His grip on your thigh loosened and his fingers went up until they reached you inner thigh, teasing you as if he wasn’t dying for it. You whined against his mouth, squirming under his touch.

He chuckled against your mouth, and he gave into your desires in a matter of seconds, sliding his hand inside your drenched knickers and exploring your folds. He breathed heavily on your wet lips after he had to break the kiss. He looked at you as he slipped a finger inside, and watched intently as your face contorted in pleasure.

“Think, Princess…” he drawled, his lips brushing against yours before doing the same on your cheek. He added another finger, making you let out a moan. “Think of each touch I give you tonight…”

He stopped his movements temporarily, taking his fingers out and making you gasp, to grab the sides of your knickers and pull them down and off roughly.

His mouth reached your neck while his fingers found your cunt once again, entering you in such a beautiful way your eyes rolled back. He started pumping his fingers in and out roughly, making your breath catch in your throat before it came out in a broken scream.

“Think of this, and then back at that fuckin’ halfwit that you let inside this beautiful cunt.”

Your wetness was completely coating his fingers at that point, and he seemed to enjoy it like nothing else, or so it seemed as you looked at him through half-closed eyelids.

He continued his assault, his thumb pressing against your clit, rubbing circular motions on it, as his lips left kisses, hot and wet, on the skin of your neck. They made you remember how his hand felt wrapped around your throat, and you found yourself craving it once again.

The memory and the sensations he was giving you only fuelled your wetness, and your orgasm drew closer. “Aemond…” you breathed out, your cunt clenching desperately around his fingers.

Just as if he was reading your mind, his lips left the soft skin of your neck to leave space for his free hand. You let out an embarrassing whimper when his fingers wrapped securely under your jaw.

“I think you’re liking it too much…” Aemond groaned, his voice husky and gravel as his fingers worked restlessly inside your pussy. “I should stop.”

Your hand found the wrist of the hand that was holding your neck when those words left his mouth, and you let out an irritated moan, kicking his side with a trembling leg.

He let out a small laugh, his pupils so dilated that his eyes appeared black. Aemond’s fingers went faster, making you let out a strangled yell as your eyes stayed fixed on his.

Your legs threatened to close, but he avoided it by getting closer, his breath now ghosting over your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” he groaned, crushing your lips against his as your pussy spasmed around his long fingers.

He kept them there after you climaxed, slowing the movements of his fingers progressively before sliding them out. He brought them to his lips like an instinctive motion.

He groaned at the sight of your flushed face, your eyes glazed with pleasure, and the way your body still trembled from the orgasm he'd given you, and definitely even for the taste of you he was licking from his fingers. You bet he loved reducing you to this state - wanting, needing, begging for him.

"Fuck," he breathed out, getting off the bed and taking off his boxers. His cock was hard, veiny, and you found yourself thinking of it inside you, stretching you out while you felt every singe thing he wished you to.

He opened the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a condom, opening the plastic with his teeth and discarding both the useless pieces carelessly on the floor. He slid it on, barely looking at what he was doing before he nodded at you, “Take that shit off.”

You furrowed your brows and looked down, noticing you still had your bra on. You were still breathing heavily, but you quickly did as he’d asked.

He moved back on the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight as he approached you with hunger. He was like a madman- you had never seen him like this before.

He kissed you again, hooking his hand under your right knee and folding its leg over the other. It provided him with the perfect view of your ass and face, and it seemed to be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen as he broke the kiss to take a look at you.

One hand found the top of your thigh while he used the other to hold himself up on the mattress. He leaned down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, making your hand fly to his hair and a gasp escape your throat.

His hand left your thigh and went to his cock, guiding it to your pussy. He teased your already tender flesh with his tip, making you both groan.

His mouth disclosed around your nipple and he lied his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck…” he breathed out once again, shaking his head before straightening up.

His hand went back to your thigh, and he ground himself against you. His head rolled back and his eyes closed at the contact, his mouth fell agape.

And you, with his cock almost inside you and his hand pinning your body to his will, couldn’t help but look at him: at the sweat that clung to his body, at his long hair you craved to pull, at his fingers that had just made you cum like nobody ever did.

When he opened his eyes again, they locked on yours right away, staring down at you. Then, he thrust inside you in one, swift and steady motion, filling you up with his cock just like you wanted him to. You weren’t cold any longer.

You didn’t try to conceal the scream if pure pleasure that escaped your lips at his motion, and he didn’t hide his. “Shit, Aemond!” you moaned, brows furrowed as you looked up at him.

“Don’t look at me like that…” he grunted, punctuating his phrase with a thrust, making your body jolt forward despite the way his hand was holding you tightly. “I’m already trying not to cum.”

His words made you cheeks heat up and a grin spread on your lips as he began to thrust inside you. Your head fell back onto the pillow, feeling every vein on his cock despite the latex separating you- maybe you were fooling yourself, but you were fine with it.

Aemond’s thrusts left you both breathless, and filled the room with the sound of skin meeting skin in perfectly rough motions.

Nothing had ever felt as good as the feeling of him inside you, and the way you squirmed and gasped beneath him made him understand that perfectly, other than making you feel like a pathetic whore.

His hand on your thigh was leaving red marks that had the shape of his fingers, and you loved it. “Please… Harder.” you found yourself begging, and he complied.

His hand left your thigh, gave your ass a firm slap before balling into a fist and pressing into the mattress to hold him up. His other hand reached your hair and grabbed a fistful, twisting it between his fingers before tugging on it sharply, making you yelp and arch your back.

“You asked for it, pretty girl.” he said with a wicked grin, pounding into your with more force than before. His hips collided against the skin of your ass he’d just slapped, making it even redder.

In response, your hand wrapped around his arm and your nails dug into the fair skin, making him grunt and pull even harder on your hair.

He fucked you harder as a form of punishment which he knew would only make things better for both of you. “Look at me, Princess.” Aemond breathed out the order, his chest heaving and his mouth open.

When you did, he let out an uncontrolled moan and gave you a particularly hard thrust, “Who owns you now, mh?”

The dirty talk, the rough treatment - it all fueled your desire, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. That’s why your lips curved into a grin.

But he wasn’t playing, because his fist opened and he slapped your ass again, “Answer.” he ordered. There, you understood it was all about pleading you to tell him, to reassure him, that Ed was gone from your mind, that he was the one inhabiting it.

“You do.”

At your words, and your burning eyes that accompanied them, Aemond grinned, turning you onto your stomach and pulling you ass up, all without exiting your tight heat.

He pushed your hips down until your chest pressed down on the soft comforter, and he started pounding again.

The change of position made your mind go blank, and your eyes almost saw white for how deep he reached.

He leaned in, still slamming into your with from behind like wild animal- his grin gone. “Who owns you, Princess?” he asked you again with the most guttural voice you’d ever heard coming from him.

“You!” you screamed with the few air and fewer focus the new position left you, as you felt your second orgasm approach like a storm above a deep sea.

“Good girl.” Aemond breathed out, his thrusts becoming erratic and his grip tightening as he let out a loud moan. His pace quickened, his breathing turned even more ragged, and you could feel him as he started losing control.

“Aemond!” you yelled, your voice slightly muffled by the pillow pressed against your cheek.

Hearing you scream his name, seeing the pleasure on your face, sent Aemond made him go even more mental than before: he pounded into you harder, faster, the bed rocking underneath the ferocity of his movements.

And your vision narrowed, your thoughts filled only with images of him and the feeling of his cock pounding restlessly inside you as your cunt clamped down around his cock, like you wanted him stretching you wider, breaking you even more.

The sensation of your second orgasm hitting you sent him over the edge, and with few powerful thrusts and a low growl, he came, filling the condom up to the brim.

Spent, he let himself fall on the bed, careful not to hurt you as he pulled out and wrapped his arms around your waist, making your back press against his chest.

He buried his face into your neck, breathing heavily. You bit your lip hard, trying to calm down and speak, “You were slightly better than Ed.”

You felt him let out a breathed laugh against your neck, but that didn’t save you from the slap he gave your ass. “Shut up.”

You jolted forward but chuckled. Then freed yourself from his embrace, making him frown and lock his eyes on you.

You scooted down, enjoying his confused expression and showing it with a grin, until you lied with your chest on his legs.

You pulled the used condom off his still-hard cock with a wicked gleam in your eyes. You revelled in the way his breath caught in his throat at your actions, and even more so when his mouth opened in pleasure as you started cleaning him off his cum with your tongue.

His hand went to your hair, holding the side of your face as you looked up at the desperate look for more in his eyes.

“Shit…” he breathed out raggedly. “You’re such a slut…”

You grinned, and started trailing kisses up his stomach and to his neck until you sat on top of him again. You cupped his cheek in your hand and kissed him, aware of how he could taste himself on your tongue.

His arms held you tight against his warm chest, his forehead against yours as you broke the kiss, and you couldn’t help but think about how many months you had thrown at the wind when you could have been in his bed, warm and…

“I love you.”

[hoosbandewan]

EWAN MITCHELL ⏤ In the Modern World

[venmondiese]

SOMETHIN' STUPID

-ˋˏ| summary: You have the biggest crush on Martin, and yet you have to watch how he falls for another girl. Even if it breaks your heart, you wish to be on his life rather than be nothing at all.

✧ | Pairing: Martin4Spider (It's Amazing to be Young) & Reader

✧ | word count: 5.1k

✧ | Warnings: Angst. Hurt/no comfort.

✧ | notes: baby's first angst omgg... anyways, i LOVE martin4spider but i also love angst and suffering and pain.

⋅˚₊‧ Based on Something Stupid by Frank Sinatra and I love you, I’m sorry by Gracie Abrams ‧₊˚ ⋅

You waited in the car, most of the time you did. 

The night was quiet and Martin was taking an awful long time to buy the medicine for his wounds. You never complained, though, you liked being around him. He was different from most men you knew, interested in sex and leaving their lives as if it was their last day on earth. 

Martin was a great guy, you two met thanks to college, and you liked to think that two outcasts could understand each other perfectly fine. He dropped college after the first semester, but it didn’t stop you from hanging out with him. You texted him, and he’d pick you up with his car, buy some snacks and go to a city viewpoint to hang there. 

Martin was, probably, your dearest friend. He was not judgemental, he could hear and he always gave you those fraternal hugs, his arm on your shoulders as he squeezed you close to him. 

Even if he was bruised, you took the time to clean his wounds, disinfect them and heal them. You never complained or judged him. You’d often keep your thoughts to yourself, about how he was hurting his body to feel something. 

“You got it?” You ask when he gets into the car, and he has a wide smile on his face. 

“I met someone” he says softly, as if amazed by it. 

“Oh?”

You look at him, your heart clenching on your chest as if it would explode. It was no secret to anyone how head over heels you were for Martin, even if he was clueless about it. You were too afraid to mess it up; he was your friend, and you could live with not being his girlfriend, but not being friends… frightened you. 

You tried pathetic attempts of flirting, sometimes getting drunk so he could pick you up and take care of you, even if it was a lie, you did it as if trying to heal something in you. You didn’t know if he was clueless, or if he knew and ignored the fact. 

“Yeah, I even got her number… She’s… beautiful” 

You look at him, as you try to look inside the drug store. “You always have girls fawning over you and your bad boy look” you tease him. 

“Heh, I know, but this is… different” he says smiling, and finally he turns to see you. His black eyes, well, still red from the recent punches, find yours with certainty as you realize something, this was different. He has that glint that he had never had with you, or any other girl he was fooling around. 

“Okay, Romeo” you say smiling, as he rolls his eyes amused, with a smirk. 

“Romeo?” He asks, chuckling as he starts the car engine. “You are so weird sometimes” he says amused, and you smile softly. 

As he starts to drive away, you can see the feminine figure from inside the drug store, seeing him from the glass. Your heart ached, watching her and then Martin. This certainly would last only some weeks, like all the flings he had before. No girl can resist a bad boy facade, not even you. But, only a few girls know how to appreciate a man like Martin. 

You had forgotten about it after some days. You certainly had more things to your plate, some college stuff, and things at home. Well, that was a lie. You had thought about it, but you tried to push it away from your head, because nothing ever comes up when Martin meets a girl. He’d fool around, and then be all on his own again. 

It was a normalcy bias, as you were sure this wouldn’t last. 

“Your room is cleaner, but still a mess” You say disapprovingly, as you pick his dirty laundry, and he groans.

“Come on…” he said, laying shirtless on his bed. “I cleaned it, though”

You raise your eyebrows with a smile, and you leave the dirty clothes in the basket. You sit on the edge of bed, looking at him.

“To what we owe this miracle?” you ask, looking at him, and he chuckles, a bit shyly as he looks away. 

“Spider was here yesterday” he says softly. 

You are in silence for a few moments, as if trying to understand what he meant. 

“Spider? I don’t think a spider cares…”

“Not the spider.” He cuts you, looking at you. “The girl I met. Her name is Jennifer, but she prefers to be called Spider”

You blink softly, your insides turning around in a horrible feeling as you take in the information. A girl, this Jennifer-Spider, in his room. He never told you about the girls he brings here either, and so your stomach feels as if it had been punched.

“She was here”

“Yes” he says simply.

“Wait, Spider? Why would she prefer...” you ask curiously.

“She just does.” he says simply, but you can sense the defensiveness in his tone, as if he didn’t like you questioning her motives.

You blink, your mouth turns slightly downwards as you feel it trembling slightly. 

“Okay” you say simply, as if trying to soothe the conversation. 

“She’s just… different. She’s special, she gets me” He says as he just watches the ceiling, he has a slight smile on his lips when talking about her, and you wondered if this is how you looked when talking about him. “She is weird. She is so fucking weird, like me…”

The chuckle on his tone, how dreamily he says it, it is almost enough to make you cry. But you don’t, you stay there, thinking what to say. What to do. What can you even do? You can’t try to sabotage them, it would be cruel… and you aren’t like that, you couldn’t live with that. 

“Come on, say something” he says after a while, and you haven’t noticed how quiet you have been.

“That sounds great” you say, forcing yourself to smile. “She sounds great” you correct yourself, and Martin nods, not fully taking in your expression. You still hoped that this would go away. That everything will be like it was before.

Jennifer, or Spider, as Martin calls her, was more present in your life than ever. She had some strange aura around her, always somewhat quiet but she was almost glued to Martin, and he to her. 

The more the weeks passed, the less you saw him. Sure, you were busy with college, trying to finish some essays that were due close, but you missed him. You always tried to catch him, sometimes he would pick you up after classes, or at your home. Everytime you hoped to see him again, to see his rusty car outside and him waiting for you with his half smirk and bruises on his face. 

But you haven’t seen him, not much. He took forever to answer your texts, and you couldn't help but feel that you were losing him. It felt horrible, because you felt so selfish, you wanted him back. You didn’t want him with this girl, but again, who were you to keep him down? To force him to stay by your side? It wasn’t you to do something like that. 

Usually, you’d meet on friday, since it was a day that both of you agreed that was easy to meet, and you’d do the usual, go to the viewpoint and chat there. You liked hanging around Martin, because you didn’t have to speak, or do anything. 

After he doesn’t text you back, and seeing the time, you tried calling. You hated calling, because it was awfully awkward, but this was a bit more desperate. 

“Hi?”

You freeze at the sound of a feminine tone.

“Hi…” You are a bit surprised, as you curse inside your brain. Fuck, fuck, fuck… “Is Martin there?”

You could feel your heart being squeezed on your inside, as you tried to breathe calmly. 

“Yes, he is here. Who’s this?”

“I am his friend…” you tell her your name, and she doesn’t seem to recall. “You must be…” Jennifer, spider? What should you call her? You try to decide, but you just leave it hanging there.

“I am Spider, his girlfriend” she says softly. 

“I see. Yeah, just… tell him to text me back later” you say trying to sound normal, as you just end up the call abruptly. You see the words call ended and then your screen turns black, and you can see your horrified face reflected on it. 

You were never nothing with Martin, damn, you never even kissed, or held hands. You were just friends, and it hurts more than anything to know he is in love, having a proper girlfriend. You were all for guys who were loyal to their girlfriends above all, but you never thought you’d be at the other end, the dumped friend. You always pictured yourself as the one he’ll be devoted to, not otherwise. 

You cry, as your eyes were so watery you couldn’t keep them open. It was silly, because you aren’t the first nor the last woman to suffer from a heartbreak, of secretly yearning for him, for his embraces, his kisses, and his affections. 

You’ve played all your cards with him, being everything he wants and needs, to no avail. What does she have? Why is she so special? He had met her for maybe more than one month, and you know him from much more.  

You cannot see them together, you cannot bear the thought of seeing them together. The first time he picked you up, it took you by surprise. He always joked that he was your uber, since you couldn’t drive, no matter how much he teaches you. He waits for you outside the car, arms crossed and his usual clothes.

“Oh, hi…” you say as you walk closer to the car, and see that inside the car there was a girl. He never brought girls around you, he talked about them casually, but this was.. different. 

And it hits you just now how serious he is about it. If you tried to think that this won’t last, this was like a cold water bucket being thrown at you with the reality of it all.

“You don’t mind, do you?” He asks, murmuring in your ear as he opens the door for you. 

You look at him, big eyes and confusing feelings. It feels like an ambush, in a way, as you were not ready to encounter her… and him together. 

“It would have been nice to be notified” you murmur to him, the slight annoyance on your tone.

“Sorry” he says, giving you a half crooked smile, yet sympathetic to it all. 

You sit in the backseat, and she turns to see you. 

“Hi” she says softly.

“Hi”

Fuck, she was gorgeous.  

You smile weakly as you put on your seatbelt, and you watch through the window. 

“We came back from the forest, that’s why we are so….”

“Rusty?” Spider says back to him, with a lovesick smile, that Martin returns.

“Yeah” Martin says as he leans to kiss her cheek, and you try to look away. 

“Cool” you try to sound cheerful. 

You really wanted to be supportive, you really did. You wished you could be happy for him, he seems… happier. She makes him happier.

Which definitely was killing you, because no amount of time with you made him as happier as she did. But it was better to be his friend, than nothing. It would kill you to be nothing, even if it meant seeing Martin happy with her. 

“So… you going with friends?” She asks curiously.

“Oh, yeah, my friends… they live closer to Martin, so…” you say shrugging, a bit awkwardly. 

“That’s neat” she says softly, nodding. “You are nice for driving your friends” she says softly, leaning to give Martin’s cheek a kiss, to which he certainly enjoys.

You can help but feel sick. You hated it, seeing him so in love with someone else. You had hoped that, with time, he would look at you like that. Hold you gently, and talk to you the way he does with Spider. 

“You have a boyfriend?” she asks, eyes wide as she turns to see you and chat.

“...no” you say almost bitterly. 

She nods softly, and Martin says.

“When you get one, we should do things, like the four of us. That’s still a thing?” 

“I think so,” Spider says naturally to him. “They can carve their names alongside ours” 

“Oh? How so?” You ask, frowning slightly as they speak so nonchalant about this. 

“We carved our names into a tree” Martin says almost too proudly. 

You feel your eyes too dry all of the sudden, and the back of your head, just behind your ears, hurts slightly. He sounds more than proud, he seems… in love. He was in love. 

“I am not… into anybody these days” You lie, your voice a bit shaky as you feel your blood running almost coldly into your limbs. You pinch the skin of the back of your hand, as if trying to soothe yourself, or to wake you up from this nightmare. 

Spider has those deep eyes that stare at you. She doesn’t say much, just watching you closely. Since she was in the copilot seat, she turned to see you. You squirm slightly uncomfortable, as if she could read your thoughts. Could she possibly know that you fancy her boyfriend? Could she know how much you envy her? How much you would give, how much you wish, how much you crave to be her?

You don’t know anything about her. Martin doesn’t particularly go off about her life the occasions he is with you. These days, they are almost glued together, doing everything together. You know it, and it didn’t bother you if Martin was just a friend. But he wasn’t just a friend to you, he wasn’t just a guy. 

You look at her and she at you, and you can’t deny how pretty she was. She had soft features, and you couldn’t help but remember Martin by the way her expression changes. It’s as if he’s all over her. 

You turn to look out the window, as if trying to ignore Spider’s eyes on you. What if she sees you cry? She doesn’t look scary, you’d probably have a fair fight if it came to it. But you aren’t that type of girl. And she was so pretty, you don’t want to ruin her beautiful face,

“I don’t have friends to introduce you to” she says softly, after a thought. Her tone is calm, and you turn to see her. Martin has his hand intertwined with hers, as if he couldn’t be without touching her. 

“It’s okay, you are so very kind”

“Do you?” She turns to Martin, quietly, and he shakes his head.

“Nope.”

“Well, if you-”

“It’s truly okay, I do not mind it.” you cut the quick chat. “Martin, leave me at the intersection” you say, grabbing your purse from the floor. The lipstick has fallen, and rolled under Martin’s driving seat. Spider leans closer to the back to search for it with her eyes as if to help you locate it.

“I can really drive you to there”

“It’s okay” you say exasperated, extending your hand to grab your lipstick, but between the metal you fear that your hand will be stuck. 

“Do you want help?” She asks, leaning curiously.

“No, it’s fine”

“Truly, I can drive you to your friend’s house, it’s on our way and I don’t mind”

You feel the lipstick with the tip of your fingers, you try to roll it closer to you, but it doesn’t work. It is stuck between some metals, and you lean closer to grab it, without really thinking how you will get your hand out. 

“Do you need light?” She asks turning on the backseat lights for you to see, but it only serves as a small blindment to you. 

“I can’t leave you here, it is too dark and…” Martin starts rambling off as he drives.

“You will hurt yourself if you do it blindly,” Spider says, trying to help.

“You asked me to do this…”

“For God’s sake, just drop me off here” You say a bit too loud, overwhelmed and just… exploded. You give up on the bloody lipstick, and anyways, it was almost empty. 

You take off your seatbelt, and you get off the car, seeing the couple inside as you close the door, and you just walk behind the car, not minding this isn’t a pedestrian crossing, and probably any car that crosses there, will mostly make you at danger of being rolled over.

You just walk crying, pathetically and recklessly walking in the dark streets, holding your purse with your hand, not minding how it drags on the pavement. You always asked for a ride because walking exposed you to avoidable danger, but in truth… You prefer it over seeing how Martin was head over heels for another woman. 

And the worst is that you can’t even hate her. She doesn’t know about your feelings about him, fuck, he doesn’t even know. And even so, he was not in any way with you, so he didn’t owe you anything. She didn't do anything wrong about it, she didn’t steal your man, she didn’t keep him from you, she wasn’t jealous or condescending to you, she was… she was good. She was nice, and obviously very weird, but it only seems to fit with Martin. 

You sit on a bench, in the middle of the street with a flickering light. Your makeup was probably ruined, by how you have rubbed your tears off your eyes, and the worst part? You also lost your lipstick.

And probably she’d keep your lipstick as well. You cried harder at that. How could she? She would keep everything you wanted, and you felt hopeless. 

You have that tendency. Your friend had said that you always subconsciously choose something unreachable, as if self sabotaging yourself. It was true, in a way, you had always been one for yearning in a distance, and never acted on your feelings. It won't either be the first time you have felt these emotions, but the other guys were crushes, too far away from your reach. But Martin? You were so close.

Was it so wrong to feel so much?

The next couple days you feel miserable, but again, not contacting him was better, at least for now. You truly wanted to get rid of your feelings, to just feel platonic love for him. To be happy for his relationship, to be glad he found someone who complements him so well. 

Maybe getting the ick would make it easier, but you knew Martin, and nothing that he did was horrible in your eyes. You cured his wounds, no matter how bloody or swollen they were. Never complained, and had a tender hand to cure it. It also helped with the proximity, and you enjoyed every second of it. 

You don’t reach to him, too afraid to have messed it up. He texts you once or twice, but again, he never was one to be really into his phone. You were rude, and you were ashamed of it, of making it about yourself and your feelings. It was a bit selfish, but they were your genuine feelings. 

Instead, he reaches to you after a while. His texts aren't usually long or descriptive,

i am in the usual spot.  can i see u?

Against your better judgement, and ignoring your mixed feelings, you take the bus, and walk to the parking lot where he usually did his car jujutsu stuff. The ‘usual spot’ always meant that, the place where he felt things in his flesh, as if he was self flagellating himself. 

You find him, by his car, sitting with a whiskey at hand. He looked even worse as if he would when fighting, and he was drunk. You could see it in his movements.

“Hi, you” you say, slightly glad he called you. “Another lost fight?” You ask amused, kneeling to help him to get up, and he grumbles.

“No…”

“Look, I wanted to apologise...” You start, as his hand was around his shoulders and your hand gripped his torso to help him up. He was bigger than you, and also heavier. You take the chance to apologise, to make things right, hoping he would forgive you. You are always sincere in your apologies, and even if your heart is happy to see him, you have to set things right “Because the last time, I was…”

“She left” He cuts you off. 

You freeze for a moment, surprised. It’s as if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, as if a cold breeze came. You look at him, not even realising how you didn’t finish your apology.

“What?”

He doesn’t answer, too drunk and trying not to fall as he grips your shoulder tightly. 

“When did she leave you?” You ask, surprised. You don’t want to say you feel glad, because you don’t. You didn't even know what you felt.

“She didn’t leave me. She left… the place. Her mum sent her off…”

You think for a few moments. You bite your lip, as you try to cheer him up. You still fancied him, and you knew you had to keep your distance, for everyone’s  well being, but he was hurting. He was your Martin still, somehow. 

“You want to go to our place?” You ask softly, looking at him. “I’ll drive”

He’d usually stop you, he’d raise the keys with his hand and make you jump to get them, and he never trusted you to drive so carefree when you had no idea of traffic signs. 

Instead, he handles you the keys as he opens the backseat and leans on it. 

You might even get your lipstick back. 

You drive carefully, even if at this time of the night almost everything is quite dead, even when the car ride up to the viewpoint is quite hard to you, you do it, and even manage to park in a great spot. After you use the hand brake, you turn off the engine. 

“Tell me you didn’t die back there”

“No” he murmurs bitterly.

“You threw up?”

“No”

“Good” you say, as you help him out of the car, pulling him to take some fresh air, and maybe the city lights could provide some comfort. You see the spot where your lipstick was left, and you decide to get it later. There was a lot of time now. 

You two settle in the car hood, laying on the glass as you sigh. 

“The night is nice” you say softly, looking at the sky, trying to break off the awkward silence. You turn your head to look at him, all puppy-like. It almost clenches your heart to see him like this. “Wanna talk about it?”

He lays on the window for some moments. 

“I loved her” it’s the first thing he says, totally heartbroken. 

“I…” you say, not sure what to say. I could see it. I know. She seems like she loves you too. I love you as well. 

“She didn’t want to leave” he keeps on going. “She… we didn’t fit, okay. But we do fit together” he murmurs, his words blurry as he is drunk and just rambling. 

“Then why did she?”

“Her mum” He says simply, looking at the sky. 

“She didn't… approve?”

“Ha, you bet” he says in a chuckle. “We were in her room, hanging out, we were… making out and her mum just got inside and kicked me out” he says leaning back, as he recalls the scene. “Tried to be polite and all, I wanted to be polite, y’know. Maybe lose the damn piercing when doing so and…”

He lays for some moments on the window, his jacket a bit too uncomfortable to do so. 

“She sent her off. Saying she was a disgrace.”

You nod softly, as you hear him. You thought you’d feel good about it, but.. you don’t. 

“Her mum hated me. She didn’t even.. know me, and I really… Me and Spider understood each other”

“To be fair, my mum doesn’t like you either” you try to cheer him up. 

“Well, I do not care what your fucking mum thinks of me. It’s not the same” he cuts you with his tone rough. “It’s not like that. She doesn’t send you away because of it.”

You bite your tongue as you watch your hands. You didn’t mean it like that, you guessed. You didn’t think too much about it,  never did around him. 

“Sorry." He says after a while. "She left. I couldn’t even say goodbye, I was too much of a coward not to go back”

You can hear the hurt in his tone, as he moves a hand to pass it on his face. He is bitter, he is confused. 

“I’m sorry too” you murmur, as your eyes are teary. “To be fair… she was nice. She seemed nice and she made you happy”

“How can I even… go on…” Martin says, rambling off.  He lights up a cigarette, as he sighs.

You two are quiet for a while as the night was awfully dead. How could you try to comfort him? You can still feel your heart long for him, even when it was already broken. Even when it was rejected, how pathetic can it get? Going back to him, hoping for him to notice you? 

The muscles of your cheek feel heavy as you hold tears, and your lips turn down on that horrible expression you hate. You rub your forehead, as if trying to relax.

“When was the last time we came here?” He asks softly, as his head turns to look at the starlights. He takes a drag and smokes blows out of his mouth.

You think for a few moments, and shake your head.

“I don’t really remember.”

He had discovered this place, and he picked you up to show it to you. Nothing fancy, but something unique. You usually bought the snacks, and he drove. 

Had he brought her too, you wondered? The tree where they carved their names was near? Had they made out in the car as well?

“I am not that drunk, you know” he says after he chuckles, as he takes the last smoke out of the cigarette, before pressing the cigarette down on his palm. “I am just…”

“... Heartbroken” you say for him. It isn’t as if you didn’t understand the feeling. How were you supposed to comfort him when you felt the same? You couldn’t even show it, or tell him about it. 

“I am taking care of her lizard.” he says after a while. You can smell the faint scent of his cheap cologne, the faint smell of liquor and the strong scent of cigarette, and you feel somewhat stupid “And I got an spider too, obviously…”

“I love you” 

Your words come spilling out of your mouth, you do not even think about saying them outloud. He never knew how much you liked him. He’d never choose you over her, and you aren’t even asking him to do so. You know he won’t. 

“I’m sorry” you add quickly, cursing yourself. It was the truth, was it wrong to say it? You can’t think of an answer, because it was done.

He doesn’t say anything, as he turns his head to see the sky as well. 

Perhaps you had been settling the nails for your own coffin, doing this. Being around him, as if nothing was happening. 

“This isn’t about you” Martin murmurs bitterly.

“I am sorry I am not her” 

“I do not want to hear about it.”

“I love you, I am sorry” You say, as you start crying, you couldn’t even fight for your feelings without crying. 

“I don’t… What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know” you cry out, as you press the heel of your hand against your eyes, almost too hard as if to dry tears out. “I am sorry, I am sorry, don’t hate me”

“Why would you tell me this kind of shit?” He asks frustrated, as he sits up straight. You shake your head, as you try to keep your tears from coming out. 

“It’s stupid, I was stupid, I am sorry!”

“Were you always like this?”

“I said I am sorry” you begged him, shaking your head.

“You know I don’t love you back. I can’t love anyone but Spider”

“I know you love her, okay, I know!” You say exasperated, as you feel frustrated as well. You had no reason to, but it wasn’t as if you could rationalize your feelings in the moment. “And I know I am not her”

You always thought love didn’t make you stupid. It was kind of weird to think about it, how could people do stupid things? How could people forgive cheating, have a blind eye when it came to crimes or stay when it hurted their mental health?

“Martin, please… I didn’t mean to” you say as he gets off the car hood, and you slide to follow him. “I won’t say it again”

“I don’t want you around”

“I am sorry, I shouldn’t… I never meant ill on you, or her… she is so nice… and she makes you happy…”

“Don’t talk about her” he says opening the copilot door to hand you your jacket, and your purse.

“Hear me out” You cry out trying to take his wrist to hold him back, begging him to hear you. 

He shakes your grip, as he looks at you with… disappointment? You don’t want to decipher his expression. 

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to” you repeat again. “I can't lose you, Martin. I can't... Please”

“Don’t” he says as he walks over to the driver seat. “Just… don’t”

The least of your worries is how you are going back home, or how you will freeze to death. Damn, you barely remember your forgotten lipstick.

You know that it was a massive screw up. But it felt right to say it in the moment, and were words you truly meant, with all your heart. And he was rightfully mad, you also understood that.

But again, you aren’t truly thinking. It’s as if the muscle that beats in your chest has truly taken over you, making rash decisions in your careful life. You had never confessed to anyone, you never said your true feelings, and you never ever would risk a friendship as valuable as the one with Martin. 

But you love him. You love him so much, it hurts, it makes you sob uncontrollably in the middle of the viewpoint, as your jacket and purse fall from your grip and fall on the pavement. You wished you could be like her, and make him happy. You wish he’d let you into his world, into his heart. At the same time, you wish he could get back at her, and be happy once again. She wasn’t a bad girlfriend as much as you would like, she was actually great, and nice. 

Perhaps it was indeed selfish, you had spoiled all by saying those three words. But deep in your heart, you know it was true. 

[esnotlo]

he really saw us going crazy over some crumbs again and said NOPE

[lonelymagpies]

Style exercises with Ewan Mitchell in “in the modern world” by Fontaines D.C.