#martin in the modern world

[endless-ineffabilities]

In Your Modern World (a Chemical Override minishot)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: so this lil baby is set some time in part 5, around late August, when they were at the height of their initial relationship. Also, this references the bonus chapter In the Modern World. No taglist for surprise minishots - I hope this will find the chem ov readers in due time! <3

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader and Ewan finally watch his music video. With some interruptions...

"So the concept to this is very straightforward. It's about Martin, and he's a recluse, an aimless youth of sorts, and..." Ewan's words come out in a nervous flurry as he places your laptop atop the duvet. "Do you remember what I told you about it? I mean... that was nearly two months ago, was it? But - "

You can't help but smile at his endearing ramble. "Baby," you say soothingly, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulders. "I'm sure I'll love it."

He presses a soft kiss to your temple. "I haven't seen the final cut myself. I hope I did well."

"It's already the music video of the year," you say with a smirk, brushing your lips against the corner of his, "as long as you're in it."

His cheeks flush, the sight of it making your heart flutter. You can't resist leaning in to kiss him again. It's meant to be momentary, but his hand finds its way to the back of your head, keeping you in place so that the kiss deepens. His other hand snakes its way underneath your shirt - his shirt, oversized on your frame - kneading the flesh of your waist.

"Kissing was a bad idea," he rasps. "Now I don't wanna do anything else."

"Oh, oh!" you gasp and pull back when his hand starts to inch your shirt upward, "Hold on there, baby. Music video time."

He groans in protest, his forehead resting against yours, a teasing smile on his lips. "Alright, then. But the next time I kiss you, there'll be no interruptions."

"Fine," you roll your eyes. Then you reach out and press play on the video.

It opens with Ewan as Martin, black wig and all, brooding heavily as he scrutinises his slimey pet. You spot something in the background immediately. It's right there for viewers to see.

Before you can process it, the shot quickly cuts to another scene of him with a thin paintbrush in his hand, hunched over some figurine. Then another, and another... Martin in his room, going about his humdrum and aimless routine. You spot it - yourself - flashing in and out of the frame.

To your side, Ewan is silently chuckling at your surprised expression. Your lips are parted slightly, eyes squinting like you don't believe what you just saw. He waits for it, gazing at you fondly, forgetting all about his piece of work playing on the laptop.

You let your thoughts win over, hitting pause.

As if in slow motion, you turn to face him, the question practically bubbling from your lips. "Was that me?"

"What was that, darlin'?" He absently twirls a lock of your hair, trying - and failing - to keep a straight face.

You raise your eyebrows, challenging him with a look that says Really?

He laughs. "Yes, I asked to have a poster of Alyna Rivers on Martin's wall. Seemed fitting."

"Seemed... fitting?" you reply. "A grunge boy with a poster of a medieval fantasy character? How does that make sense?"

"Martin likes her," he shrugs, grinning mischievously, "What can I say?"

"Martin?" you tease. "Or Ewan Mitchell?"

"Martin likes you," he taps the tip of your nose, "But Ewan... is in love with you. Completely obsessed."

You shake your head, unable to fight the rush of pleasant warmth to your cheeks.

"There is a difference, darling," he clarifies in a husky whisper.

You glance back at the screen, where the video is paused on a shot of Martin sitting in the car.

"Well, he is pretty hot," you admit with a smirk. "All dirty and reckless."

"Hmm," he chews on his lip, "is he?"

Your hand moves to press play again, but his own darts out to stop you.

His voice is a low, seductive rumble. "Think you can fix him? Think you can fix poor Martin?"

Your lips stretch out in a sultry smile, eyes glinting at his playful instigation. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, giving in to the pull of distraction. The rest of the music video can wait; he's in it anyway, he's got some clue as to how it goes.

"I think I can, I think I can," you whisper humorously in that famous playground chanting, desire bleeding through your words.

"Lucky Martin," he breathes against your skin, "should I be jealous?"

Instead of answering, you lean forward, pressing your body flush against his and reclaiming his lips, remembering when he said that the next time you do, there will be no interruptions.

Martin can wait. Or he can watch, in the back of your minds, why the hell not?

You push the laptop aside, then climb on top of your boyfriend, straddling his thighs. He smirks openly, in pure satisfaction.

You ask, "Why don't we give him something to be jealous about?"

[peachysunrize]

CUTIE PIE🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

[zaldritzosrose]

Sweet Like Candy (Martin x Reader)

Summary: If there was one thing you would always see when you pictured Martin, it was that blue stained tongue of his. You would tease him often, wondering if he ate anything but that sticky, blue candy. But there was another thought that crossed his mind. If it stained his tongue, could it stain you?

Just a little short fic for our favourite greasy weirdo and his...oral fixation.

CW: MINORS DNI,afab reader, she/her pronouns, Martin being a little weirdo (it's why we love him), mentions of violence and injury (car-jitsu), oral (f receiving, car sex (oral only), profanity, innuendo, Martin being an oral king.

Words: 925

This was how Martin liked you best, spread out in nothing but one of his shirts, a barely there skirt and some torn fishnets. Thighs held open as he left heated kisses in a path to where he knew you wanted him most.

Especially now…

You always met him after a night like this. Waiting in his apartment until he was done, meeting him at the car sometimes or lounging on his bed until he came home sore and bruised. Martin was almost always ready to pounce on you the second he saw you.

His adrenaline high after yet another night of bloodied car fights. You never questioned his hobby, Martin loved that about you. His nose still ached from where he had clocked quite the punch, blood smeared across his skin. But you liked him like this. An almost wild, feral intensity about him.

The blue packets of candy littered the car floor, and the second you saw them, you giggled. You were laid down in the backseat of the car, Martin nestled between your legs. Impressive considering there wasn’t much room back here.

“Stick out your tongue, baby?” 

Martin rolled his eyes, but complied. Slowly rolling his tongue out and showing the blue streak down the entire muscle.

Every time, you teased him about that blue tinged tongue of his. He’d never outright told you why it was always blue, but you weren’t blind. There was no shortage of blue candy wrappers in his car, in the bin by his bed. You’d even found them in the pockets of his jacket once, when you’d borrowed it. You honestly questioned if he ever ate anything else.

But you put a thought in his head. Would it stain your skin? Could he mark you up with blue stains that could only have come from him? It wasn't going to stop him trying. 

His hands were suddenly gripping your thighs tighter, tugging them as wide as they would go. Kisses rougher than before, fingers hooking under your fishnets and tearing a hole right down the middle. Leaving no barrier no between his mouth and your center. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d worn panties around him - he either ripped them or took them off and kept them.

You could see a flash of something behind his eyes as he dipped his head back down to kiss another path over your inner thigh. Those bright blue orbs flicking between staring up at you and down at where his lips and tongue were meeting your skin.

Rough kisses were followed with laps of his tongue, smirking when the faintest tinge of blue trailed after. Your hips bucking up to chase his mouth, a silent plea for him to just get on with it. His laugh made you roll your eyes in annoyance. But they soon rolled back again in pleasure.

“So pretty,” he mumbled, and you could feel the rough pad of his finger trailing a line down your thigh.

You couldn’t help it, sitting up on your elbows and looking down. Even in the dim light of the street lamps outside, you could see the faint tint of blue on your skin. There was only one place that could come from. That damned blue tongue.

You were about to speak, when you felt the warmth of his breath of your folds. Soon followed by a long, deep swipe of his tongue. If there was one thing you could always say about Martin…he knew exactly how to pleasure you.

Hands still holding your thighs apart, twisting his body to dive as deep in your warmth as he could. Martin could already taste the tangy sweet mix of you and the candy on his tongue.

“So sweet, my pretty girl…sweet like candy…” he groaned into you, the vibration of his voice only adding to your pleasure.

He went slow. Long, leisurely laps at your already soaked core. He could see it even then, little hints of blue mixed with the juices that already coated your folds. Your hand was quick to weave into his hair, grinding yourself down in your impatience. But Martin wanted to savour the moment.

This was his prize, winning his fights and all that. Your sweet, soft body was his trophy. Your panting moans of his name was the only plaudit he needed.

“Martin…fuck please…don’t stop…” you keened out, back arching off the seat as your leg hooked over his shoulder.

He didn’t mind the bite of your boot against his back, the rubber sole a heavy weight. The way you dug it in, in the desperate hope of making him lap at you faster.

His fingers dug hard into your hips, pulling you harder down onto his face. The rhythm of his tongue now faster, head shaking side to side as he buried his face almost far enough to suffocate. His own grunts and groans of satisfaction mingling with your ever louder moans.

It wasn’t long before he felt your legs begin to shake, muscles quivering beside his head as your inner walls clenched around his tongue. His fingers found your pearl, adding the smallest amount of pressure in circles until you were spilling over his tongue. Your hand was tight in his hair, nails scratching his scalp as you sighed out his name one more time.

“That’s my girl…” he praised, kissing his way over your mound, his tongue following his lips and still leaving soft blue streaks.

Martin hoped they'd stain. Mark you in a way that was his, and his alone...

Tagging my Ewan girlies!

(if you want adding or deleting let me know)

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @tumblin-theworldaway @anjelicawrites @aemondsbabe

@aemondsbabygirl @kaelatargaryen @sylasthegrim @towriteloveontheirarms

@hoosbandewan @thought--bubble @multyfangirl

[demigoddessqueens]

every step you take

a/n - me thinks Ewan needs to be in more roles, music videos but that’s just me 🤷‍♀️

Masterlist 11

Yandere!Martin who is the type of obsessive who watches your every move

Where you go, who you see or talk to, all of it is his business

yandere!Martin who marks your skin with hickeys and love bites if you’ve been gone too long

Make out 💋 sessions go on for hours well into the next day if he wants, leaving you breathless and your lips flushed and pink as your cheeks are

Yandere!Martin who tugs at or steals bits of clothes to keep you closer to him, pinching and grabbing at any skin exposed to him

Even as he leans back as you plaster kisses all over his body, those firm arms are keeping you in place until he’s satisfied

[alightcaseofohno]

Okay, so of anyone has seen both Rialto (2019) and the music video for Fontaines D.C's In The Modern World... could you see this as a ship

Because I can... and I think I may need yo write a fic about them.

(Ps; If anyone wants to... you know... roleplay a relationship between them. My dms are open, but I may not respond til around three, maybe half two pm).

[hoosbandewan]

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

[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.”

[vhagar-balerion-meraxes]

💎 Ewan Mitchell - In The Modern World 💎

[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.

[goddessofvalyria]

ALIVE | Martin (In the modern world) x fem!oc

As I saw Ewan Mitchell in the music video for Fontaines DC - In The Modern World, I obviously know that music video made us Tumblr girls write sooooooo much and I'm here for that.

English is not my first language, be kind and enjoy it <3

READ HERE THE SECOND PART OF THE ONE-SHOT "DEATH"

Summary: Cassandra and Martin are both devastated, how can they no longer feel the pain? Getting lost in each other.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, the fem!oc is named Cassandra with long wavy dark black hair and blue-purple eyes, masturbation (f receiving), SMUT, sex, drug use, violence, blood, murder, death, sadness.

This is my Masterlist

Words: 3184

Cassandra shivered as she stepped out into the cold night, her breath forming misty clouds in the air. The winter chill was relentless, but she barely noticed it. Her black fur coat provided some warmth, but it couldn't reach the cold that had settled deep within her. Her long, wavy black hair fluttered in the biting wind, framing her face, where her once-vibrant blue-violet eyes now appeared hollow and distant.

She walked quickly, her knee-high leather boots crunching against the thin layer of snow that covered the sidewalk. The streets were empty, silent except for the occasional hum of a distant car. She checked her phone, glancing at the last message she'd received. It was from someone she barely knew, a boy who was a drug dealer who had agreed to meet her tonight. He was a friend of a friend, someone who could get her what she needed.

When she reached the parking lot, it was nearly deserted, save for a single car parked under the dim light of a flickering streetlamp. Cassandra paused for a moment, feeling a twinge of hesitation, but she quickly pushed it aside. She didn't have the luxury of second thoughts tonight.

Martin sat in his car, nervously tapping the steering wheel as he waited. He didn't know who he was meeting, just that it was a girl in need, willing to pay well. But when he saw her approaching, he felt his heart skip a beat. It was Cassandra, the girl he had admired from afar and had a crush on during their school days. Back then, she was everything he wasn't—beautiful, popular, and effortlessly smart. He had been just another face in the crowd, unnoticed by someone like her.

Cassandra opened the car door and slipped inside, her movements mechanical, as if she was on autopilot. She didn't look at him, her focus entirely on the transaction.

"Do you have it?" she asked, her voice flat and devoid of emotion.

Martin hesitated, the recognition hitting him hard. She didn't seem to realize who he was, but how could she? The boy she once knew was long gone, just as the girl she once was seemed to have disappeared.

"Cassandra?" he said softly, searching her face for any sign of the person he remembered. Her eyes flicked toward him, and for a moment, she seemed to wake up from whatever trance she was in. 

"Martin?" she said, her voice tinged with disbelief. "I didn’t know… Look, I just need the stuff, okay? I want to forget for a while."

He handed her the small bag of drugs, his hand trembling slightly. "What happened to you?" he asked, unable to keep the question inside.

"You were… everything."

He loved her in silence. He loved her for many years but he was the metalhead boy of the school.

Her gaze hardened, her lips pressing into a thin line. "What happened to me? Life happened, Martin. People change. Now, just let me be. I just want to forget and don't asking fucking questions."

Martin swallowed hard, struggling with the mix of emotions swirling inside him. He couldn't be rude to her. He knew he should just give her the drug, but seeing the girl who once shone with popularity and light, reduced like that, with obvious dark circles under her eyes, shaking hands and a spent cigarette between her fingers broke his heart. She had always been so beautiful, so… unique in his eyes and even if she had never deigned to look at him, he had always loved her in silence and from afar.

"Come with me" he said, the words spilling out before he could think them through. "We can talk… if you want, if you need."

She looked at him, her expression unreadable, but after a long moment, she nodded. She didn't know why she agreed, perhaps it was the familiarity of his face or the desperation in his voice, but she stayed in the car and then followed him back to his small, modest house.

Inside, the dim light cast shadows across the room, amplifying the feeling of isolation. Cassandra sat on the edge of his bed, removing her fur coat and laying it beside her. The room was dark, quiet, almost stifling, as Martin stepped out to get her some water.

When he returned, he stopped in his tracks. In the soft glow of the bedside lamp, he noticed the bruises on her arms, the way she winced as she adjusted her position on the bed. The sight hit him like a punch to the gut, and he felt a wave of anger and sadness wash over him. She was wearing a short black dress with thin straps and torn tights. How could she not feel cold? It was clear that something was wrong with her.

Cassandra caught him staring at her and tried to cover her bruises with her hands, trying to hide the evidence of her pain. But it was too late. The tears she'd been holding back began to fall, silent and steady, as she wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to hold herself together.

"I don’t know how I got here" she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know who I am anymore."

Martin sat beside her, unsure of what to say or do. He had never imagined seeing her like this, so broken and lost. He wanted to help, but he didn't know how. All he could do was be there, offering what little comfort he could.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pill. "Here" he said, his voice gentle. "It might help… take the edge off."

Cassandra looked at the pill in his hand, then at him. "You don't have to pay for these" he said lowly. For a moment, she hesitated, but then she took it, placing it on her tongue and swallowing it down without a word. She lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if searching for answers that would never come.

Martin lay beside her, the two of them silent, lost in their own thoughts. The darkness in the room seemed to mirror the darkness within them, a shared pain that neither of them knew how to escape. And so they lay there, side by side, two lost souls in the night, hoping for some kind of relief, however fleeting it might be.

"Who did this to you?" he asked. "Someone who tells me he loves me"

Cassandra drifted into a restless sleep, the pill he had given her slowly taking effect, Martin's phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket, glancing at the screen.

"I know you have something for me, a friend of a friend tell me that you can help me. - Joe."

It was a message from Joe—Cassandra's boyfriend. He wanted to meet, to buy drugs. Martin stared at the message, his mind racing. This was the man who had done that to her, the one who had destroyed the girl he had once admired. He knew him, in high school Joe had beaten him up numerous times in the school bathrooms.

Without a second thought, Martin replied, agreeing to meet. He gently covered Cassandra with a blanket, his heart aching as he watched her sleep. Then, with a grim resolve, he slipped out of the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him.

The night was even colder now, but Martin barely felt it. His mind was consumed with thoughts of what he was about to do. He drove to the meeting spot, a desolate area on the outskirts of town, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Joe was already there, leaning against his car, looking as smug and careless as ever. Martin's stomach churned with disgust as he approached and Joe sat in the passenger’s side. Joe didn't even bother to greet him, just held out a hand, waiting for the drugs. Martin handed them over without a word, his mind already calculating his next move.

"Did you have only this? Fuck, now I have to hear my girlfriend's scream when she yells at me" he said with grief in his voice. "She is still your girlfriend" Martin replied. "We are together, yeah, but she only likes to be fucked like a whore she is and then... sometimes,... you know, she is mad as hell and she screams at me that for my fault her life became a fucking nightmare."

Joe wasn't a smart guy, he talked nonsense as he popped the pills. "Sometimes I hurt her, but it's just to let her know I love her. Only when she threatens to leave me and report me to the police, you know Cassandra is fucking bitch."

Martin looked at him as he felt the anger rising. How could he let him go free after those words? Cassandra would come back to him and he would hurt her. Now she was sleeping at his place, but after that? After taking more pills she would go back to her boyfriend.

As Joe turned to walk back to his car, Martin's vision went red. He moved before he could think, grabbing the seat belt from his car and looping it around Joe's neck in one swift motion. Joe struggled, his hands clawing at the belt, but Martin was stronger, driven by a rage he had never felt before.

"You are beating her, right bastard?"

The two of them wrestled, Joe managing to land a few blows, but Aemond didn't feel the pain. His face was smeared with blood, but he didn't care. All he could think about was Cassandra, about the life she could have had, about the life she still could have if this monster were gone. With a final, desperate twist, Martin tightened the belt, and Joe's struggles ceased.

He killed him for her.

Panting, Martin let the body slump to the ground, his chest heaving. He looked down at Joe's lifeless form, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over him. It was done. He had done what he had to do.

The night was still dark when Martin disposed of the body, leaving no trace of what had happened. His face and clothes were stained with blood, but he didn't care.

He drove back to his apartment, the adrenaline slowly fading, replaced by a numbness that left him feeling empty.

By the time he returned, dawn was just beginning to break, casting a pale light through the windows. Martin quietly entered his room, closing the door behind him. Cassandra was awake, sitting in the center of the bed, her eyes fixed on the wall. She had noticed his records, her fingers tracing the edges of one of them absently.

When she turned to look at him, her eyes widened slightly at the sight of his face, still smeared with blood. "Martin…" she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of concern and confusion. "I still feel the pain.... I...fuck, I still feel the deep darkness in me"

"You have blood all over your face, what happened to you?" she looked at him, God, her eyes were so beautiful. Long black eyelashes, black eyeliner, they were breathtaking.

Martin walked over to her, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I did what I had to do," he said, his voice steady.

For a moment, Cassandra just stared at him, her mind processing his words. Then, without warning, she got up and moved toward him, her eyes locked on his. Her hands gently cradling his face, feeling the still fresh blood on his skin.

"Thank you" she whispered, her voice breaking. "Thank you."

Martin was about to respond when she leaned in, her lips crashing against his in a fierce, desperate kiss. The intensity of it took him by surprise, but he quickly responded, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer. "You're safe now" it was a kiss filled with all the emotions they had both been holding back—fear, anger, relief, and something more, something they had both been denying for too long.

Cassandra pushed him back onto the bed, her hands frantically tugging at his clothes, as if trying to erase everything that had happened, everything that had hurt her, with this one act. Martin didn't resist; he wanted this as much as she did, maybe even more. The world outside, the blood on his face, everything else faded away as they gave in to the passion that had been simmering beneath the surface.

Their movements were frantic, desperate, as if they were both trying to cling to something real, something pure in the midst of all the chaos. The bed creaked beneath them as they had sex.

“I need something strong” she whispered. “I need to know that I’m alive”

They leaned closer and their eyes met in another kiss. Their lips touched softly, as if they were trying to convey everything they couldn’t express in words. “I need something stronger than drugs” she murmured against his lips. Martin kissed her again, this time rougher, harder. Everything finally made sense. “I want you” Martin whispered. “I’ve always wanted you, even when you didn’t even look at me, I was there, silent among the outcasts and I watched you shine. But your darkness doesn’t scare me, share it with me.”

She leaned down to kiss his neck with languid, wet, provocative kisses and he grabbed her by the thighs, moving his hands up under her robe. "Cass" Martin groaned, looking up and meeting her eyes. He moved his hands to her dress, pulling it off her head. Cassandra began by removing his shirt, his hands tore off her tights and then moved to the elastic of her thong, hooking it around his fingers. "You are beautiful" he whispered as she raised her hips allowing him to remove her panties. Her long hair fell in front of her and she, who was not wearing a bra, destabilized him. He moved closer and slowly kissed her nipples, making her moan.

Cassandra moved her hands down to the elastic of his boxers, pulling them off along with his pants. In that moment she just wanted to forget all the pain she had felt, she wanted to let it all out, light a fire inside him.

"Make me forget" she murmured. "Make me forget" she was begging him. The girl leaned forward to kiss him, he made her lie down against the pillows of the bed and slowly got on top of her, covering her with his body. Cassandra caressed his back with her hands, making him shiver when her nails caressed his skin. "For me you exist, for me you have always existed" he whispered taking her face in his hands, he caressed her soft lips.

"You are so beautiful fuck, you are so… so… I… I have always seen you, I have always wanted you." he was desperate for her.

"You won't feel any more pain, you won't feel anything, I'll make you feel alive" he whispered, pushing himself inside her: God, she was so hot, wet, tight. He held her close, she moaned, inhaling his scent, she kissed his face still stained with blood. "I don't feel anything" Cassandra whispered. "I only feel you." she arched her back.

They moved together, faster, harder, until everything else faded away and there was nothing left but the unstoppable need to be closer, to feel more. "Tell me I'm yours" she whispered, holding him as if he could abandon her. "You're mine, you're mine, you're mine" he whispered, kissing her, pushing between her hot, wet thighs.

Cassandra, his Cassandra was lost in the most dissolute pleasure. He continued to fuck her until he felt her tremble, a sign that he was about to come.

"You are mine, you are mine, you are mine" he repeated feeling his cock buried deep inside her. "You are mine, always remember that, you are mine" "I am yours" she whispered scratching his back, Martin shivered. He gave her a stronger thrust, looked into her blue-violet eyes, she pressed herself against him and came with a loud moan.

Martin followed shortly after her, came out of her body and fell on top of her taking her in his arms and giving her a kiss on her swollen and shiny lips.

"I feel alive, I feel alive…" she whispered holding him in her arms.

Cassandra's eyes locked onto Martin's, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper reflected in her gaze. Slowly, she leaned in, her breath warm against his skin. Her lips met his with an intensity that took him by surprise, and he responded, pulling her closer, as if she were the only thing keeping him grounded.

The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate. She tasted the metallic tang of blood on his lips, and instead of pulling away, she leaned in further, her tongue gently tracing the cut. She sucked softly, tasting the blood, her actions filled with a strange blend of tenderness and need.

Martin groaned, the pain of his wounded lips mingling with the pleasure of her touch. She didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate, as if in that moment, she was trying to absorb all of his pain, to take it into herself.

Their kiss was fierce, raw, and full of unspoken emotions—pain, longing, and a desire for connection that neither had known they needed so badly. The world around them faded away, leaving only the heat between them, the taste of blood and passion mingling as they lost themselves in each other.

“We should stop” Martin whispered. “No” Cassandra replied. “No one has ever killed for me.” She kissed him again and again, clearly aroused by the sight of him covered in blood. “You have me now” she whispered, grabbing his shirt and rolling onto the bed, him on top of her.

She was a fucking freak.

And he matched her perfectly. 

The morning light slowly filling the room, casting long shadows on the walls.

When it was over, they lay tangled together in the sheets, both of them breathing heavily, their bodies slick with sweat. Martin held Cassandra close, his heart still racing from everything that had happened that night. She rested her head on his chest, her fingers tracing the lines of his skin, as if trying to memorize every inch of him.

They didn't speak; there was nothing left to say. In that moment, they both understood each other perfectly. The world outside might still be cruel and unforgiving, but for now, they had found something that could make it all bearable.

And as the first rays of the morning sun filtered through the window, Martin closed his eyes, holding Cassandra close. 

"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"

[peachysunrize]

(separate Martin lover) YESSSSSSSSSSSS

That man gives switch energy cause one minute he’s forcing you on that bed ripping your tights In two to get to your pussy with no regards to your begs for him to slow down, and the next he’s on his knees begging to be able to touch you moaning like a slut when you pull his hair. I swear that man loves it when car-Jutish somehow gets involves in the bedroom. He doesn’t put all of his efforts into it just lets you dominate him into submission and he acts bratty pretty much lol

Omg this is so so so hot because it’s soooo him😭 he’d definitely have you on your stomach, hands tightly behind your back butttt he intentionally lets go so you can flip over and keep him in a headlock by your thighs😩😩😩

[izfrogzy]

Martins the Kind of guy who says harder when someone’s trying to choke him out

[demigoddessqueens]

Who needs a dog when I’m barking???!

[blueberrypancakesworld]

- anon

Ewan as Martin in the Fontaines D.C. music video "in the modern world" with the song "emo boy" by Ayesha Erotica specifically with the lyric "he may not look like he gets bitches, but honey that dick was 11 inches", would it be okay if you could write something based off of this? i know it's super vague but i'd like you to have some freedom with this request and let loose and write whatever comes to mind with this as the basis of the smutty, slutted–out oneshot/blurb/drabble (whatever writing form you'll use x)

Modern world and modern love

Martin x girlfriend! reader

warning : +18, smut, mentions of wounds/blood, pain play, body whorship, fluff/comfort

Summary : In a modern world it's hard to be sure of anything, he knew and she knew but while she helped with pain Martin needed the pain a difference between them that brought them both together again and again in the early hours of the morning in a heated encounter of love, lust and pain.

info : thank you very much for the request dear anon i thank you for all the freedom and hope you like how it comes across, enjoy reading and have a nice day :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was always the same in the city, you woke up, went to work, the day passed you by and at the end of the day when the sun went down you were already back in bed trying to sleep.

A never-ending cycle of doing nothing and living and yet feeling nothing, something almost everyone knew about but only a few could do anything to feel something again.

They existed together, a nurse and he a dark spot in the night, a sentient young man who ‘helped’ others to feel again in a way that may have seemed unusual but in a city where there was infinity it was necessary.

A nurse in white to contrast with his black who cared for the victims and made them realise with hope that there was always something to feel…until she always came back to her heart in the morning hours.

The sun slowly faded and then the foggy city with the heavy clouds loomed, a car pulled up in front of his house, the lights of the headlights always pointed at his room, showing him for a moment that she was back, that she would be with him again as soon as the lights went out and he heard the front door key.

,,I'm back!" her voice echoed through the house but only reached his ears which still seemed to be ringing from the punches, kicks and choking he thought he could barely hear his own voice as he returned a mumbled ,,I missed you” and heard her take off her shoes and hang up her coat before heading towards the bedroom.

The squeaking of the door like the ticking of a clock seemed to be the same every time and yet he didn't straighten up he lay sideways looking at the slowly brightening window ,,Oh I missed you too my bat" she mumbled her mood more cheerful than his it was always like a sun coming back to him and his gratitude for her was almost greater than the love between them.

The bed squeaked as she lay next to him her gentle hand over his body he had just laid down as well the smell of disinfectant, blood and rain seemed to cling to them ,,I'm sorry" he said as he winced the cracked knuckles ached as her fingers touched them but she just grinned gripped his hand tighter hearing the sharp intake of his air not afraid but excited for what was to come.

It was always the same every time she came back he lay there on the bed messy hair, cracked knuckles, bleeding lips and scratches on his face that were as dark as the strangulation marks around his neck and in return she did what always brought him back to loving him now.

She let her hands wander slowly over him, cuddling her upper body against him, pulling lightly at the strands of his hair, she would comb them later and braid them a little, ,,You seem happy," Martin realised and his slightly trembling hand stroked her cheek, leaving a slight hint of blood behind as she cuddled her head in his hand, his coldness still seeming to cling to him, the night not wanting to leave him.

She nodded, running her hand over the choke marks on his neck and told him how she had treated a few sex workers in the last few hours and they had associated her with him, ,,They seemed almost embarrassed to ask but they wanted to know if I was sleeping with you," she said and couldn't help but laugh when she saw that Martin was laughing too and his hands held her tighter, it had happened somehow since she had seen Martin on her night shift at the hospital.

He had been hanging around outside too unsure to go in until she had intercepted him another night and just fixed him up since then it was like an unofficial rumour that they were like sun and moon together but someone like Martin with blood on him was hard to imagine that he could do something so intimate for some.

The cool tip of his nose touched hers as he asked her, ,,What did you tell them?‘ curiosity resonated in his voice as she felt his hands wandering under her shirt, pain and lust close together that they both knew, ,,Honey that dick was 11 inches" she said in a proud tone and an almost proud grin came to her lips before his lips captured hers in a long awaited kiss.

Martin opened her bra and the two of them kissed again and again, pulling the clothes off her body, she wanted his coldness and he needed her warmth he needed her softness she was different from the pain and his pain he had for her was something hard in a soft environment.

The more fabric the two lost the more different they became blood and colourful wounds on his body seemed to become more and more and her kisses barely kept up as she kissed his wounds, her hands pressing on them his moans filled the room as his hands explored her perfect body.

Not a single mark, scar or blood to be found on her was an angel who never seemed to be in pain, a thing that excited him, that he wanted to claim and that he loved when his dirty bloody fingers were on her, massaging her soft breasts, he could see exactly how she closed her eyes in pleasure, presenting her body for him, her lips moaning his name when he caused her anything more than pain.

,,Need-Need…you’ she breathlessly released his rough hands buried themselves in her hair and pulled her into another kiss his centre rubbed lightly against her thigh a shudder seemed to go through both their bodies a taste of what they would both get.

A throaty moan left her as his fingers lightly pinched her nipples she held herself against him trembling her fingernails pressed against a blueflecne making him moan too the pain he had was her arousal.

The knowledge that she was the other half of both of them was like a mirror that was reflected when they were together, ,,I'm here, dear," he hugged her from him so that she could be beneath him as much as he liked it when she put her hands around his neck when she rode him, he seemed to crave her completely today.

Her hands clung to the dark duvet as he kissed his way up her leg, caressing and cherishing every centimetre of her, ,,Perfect" she heard his voice every now and then he heard the lobe miest in front of him babbling barely audibly and yet full of love as he kissed his way up to her centre, her hands gently cupping his face, ,,I want you" she said to him as he overcame the moment to kiss her again as his hands went to her hips, taking the position they both wanted and entering her.

The kiss was punctuated by muffled moans and grunts as the feeling of familiarity seemed to be ever new her hands clutching at him he helped her through the moment with kisses and praise massaging her flesh scratching over his injuries before he saw her head nod slightly ,,I'm-only yours" he replied before he began to move still slightly cautious her hands still holding onto him at the beginning seeking the support that was hardly needed.

Her sounds were his spur her lust veiled gaze met his bright eyes the dark ones seemed dark with lust and blood he lost himself in her is one hand placed on her hip her body adjusting to his rhythm but never too firm he would never harm his heart, an angel, ,,Ahh-fuck my pretty shadow" her lips trembled as her body was once again reminded of his size and width she held onto him lightly.

Enjoying his touch as he used his other hand to cup her breasts and she massaged the mottled spots with her squeeze, the red of the blood resembling the warmth between them, the wet shudder running through the man's and woman's bodies as she wrapped her legs around his hips as she began to feel the pull in her abdomen, the tingling in her nipples and his thrusts that slowly became uncontrollable, the lust that seemed to merge the two more and more.

,,I'm here," she heard a mumbled, unspoken phrase somewhere between the moans, whimpering and grunting as she moved quickly, this time entangling him in a kiss, her hands scratching his back, his throaty moan resembling hers as he let go of her sleeve and ran his hands over the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing her to squeeze her back slightly, the intense feeling of arousal overwhelming both of them.

She could almost feel the twitching of his shoulders and his eyes, which seemed to darken further from the lust despite the increasing brightness outside, they were both close to climaxing, ,,I-I gonna fuuck cum," he heard her murmur and felt him pull her closer to him, the thrusts becoming faster but more intense, the closeness almost unbearably hot, threatening to engulf them both before their loud moans echoed through the house.

His pain mingled with her softness and vice versa the moans of two lovers as he held her close and she heard his own twitching as their bodies leaned together, shaky hands holding each other, murmured praise and sloppy kisses reaching cheek and lip.

The rays of the morning sun slowly fell on them both and they saw the beauty of each other an angel in white with wings of healing and a shadow with a bloody body merged for another night with the words they exchanged I love you before they lay together safely under the covers and would stay in this room together until the angel flew away and the shadow struck again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[hoosbandewan]

EWAN MITCHELL ⏤ In the Modern World

[celtigxr]

patiently waiting for the Martin fics to come in