#martin in the modern world

[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. 

[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?"

[aemsgirl]

"The exception."

Martin x Reader.

warnings: smut, breath control, some knifeplay, mention of illicit substance use, foul language.

Martin thinks people are garbage, in every damn scenario. In a group? They're even shittier. You lose your freaking essence, who you really are, to fit into some bullshit pattern. And what's inside you? Scratching at the walls of your skull? That shit usually needs to stay locked up. No matter how dull beautiful things are, society still clings to them. He hates them, deeply. He repels them. But he knows that even in this sea of hypocrisy, there's got to be one exception. And that's you, to him.

He fucked around, and he got you. At first, he had no clue what you were. Were you really twisted on the inside or just faking it? A lot of posers with their fake leather jackets and high boots, even under that heavy-ass eye shadow, pretend. They must think it's cool, right? Pretending to be fucked up on the inside, like they've got some kind of revolting shit inside that would make you gag. But no, you weren't intending. You were the real fucking deal.

 He still doesn't grasp you fully, not yet. How you write when he twists your nipples until they're swollen and sensitive. When he smacks your clit the moment you climax, leaving you trembling uncontrollably. When he shoves his hand down your throat, threatening to tear it apart, knowing he's capable, and yet, it only makes you squirt all over his cock, turning his sheets into a mess. Or when he thrusts his cock so deep into your throat, making you hold it there until he unloads, and you end up spitting blood from the sheer force. He can't fathom how, after he's bruised you blue and purple, you can still drag yourself across the bed, begging for more. And more. And more.

But you do, and he fucking loves it.

The fight wasn't much of a challenge, but it was enough to leave him with blood on his lips and his shirt soaked through with sweat. Coming home was the same old routine; when he stepped through the door, the living room was dark. He'd think the place was deserted if it weren't for the music thumping from his room and the air thick with your scent, mingled with the sharp tang of his soap. He's still not sure how he feels about you always being there, waiting like you're some damn girlfriend or something. Maybe if he didn't understand your twisted desires, he'd feel his guts twist with discomfort.

Silently, he dropped his keys on the coffee table and headed to the bedroom. With the door ajar, he caught a glimpse of you before even crossing the threshold. As always, you'd made yourself at home. Clad only in your panties and one of his old shirts, stained with blood from some past brawl. The music was a soft distraction, and you were evidently lost in it, along with the book you were reading, a cigarette dangling from your free hand as you lay on your stomach, offering him quite the view. Sighing quietly, not wanting to be noticed just yet, he leaned his shoulder and head against the door frame, just watching you.

So fucking beautiful, it makes him want to bite down, to claim a piece of you to keep forever.

You were definitely caught up in your world, but not so lost that you missed the predator's gaze on your back. The heat surging up your thighs was immediate, your skin prickling with the chill from your recent bath. Taking another drag from your cigarette, letting the watermelon taste play across your tongue, the smoke gently clouding over the pages of your book, you didn't need to look to know he was there, watching.

"Did you win?" The question slips from your lips, light and knowing, devoid of any real curiosity.

Martin's lips twist into a brief, unseen smile. He strides into the room, dropping into the chair that was meant for a study table but instead holds a clutter of his small sculptures and prototypes. He slumps back, his head lolling with a heavy sigh, feeling every tension knot from his neck down through his shoulders to his lower back.

"Yeah." His response is terse, squeezed out with a breath heavier than the last. Talking isn't his thing, especially not when he's this spent, still riding the high of adrenaline. "I almost got a broken nose though."

This 'almost' was genuinely close this time. You roll over onto your back, watching him sprawled in the chair, legs splayed out. Martin exhales another heavy sigh before leaning over to open the small drawer beside the desk, retrieving a pin coated with remnants of dry cocaine. He hesitates, looking up just long enough to catch you blowing smoke his way, creating a hazy veil between you.

"You look like shit." There's no real malice in your tone, and he knows it. And fuck, he knew he must look like hell warmed over.

"Yeah?" His reply is as flat, mingled with a low, nasal chuckle. He almost wished he could muster some offense or at least intend to.

You let out a brief chuckle in return, your head rolling back on the pillows to gaze at the ceiling, where the blue light from the walls bathes your face in an ethereal glow. Martin, with practiced ease, opens the pin cap, tapping the white powder onto the dark wood of the table. His pinky finger deftly splits it into two thin lines, the note already rolled up and worn at the tip from frequent use. He brings it to his nose, leaning just enough for the tip to kiss the table's surface, then inhales sharply, sliding forward as the burn hits his nostril.

"Fuck," he sighs, his eyes clamping shut against the sting.

The bitter taste slides down his throat, a reminder of the chemical's harshness. His left nostril pulses with pain, tears welling up, but there's no time to dwell on it. He leans back, using his other nostril to snort the second line, the discomfort becoming just another part of the routine, either numbed by repetition or by sheer adaptation.

Throwing his head back against the chair, Martin knows his pupils, hidden behind closed lids, are blown wide. His leg starts to bounce uncontrollably. Inside, he's soaring, feeling like he's on top of the world, the wind tearing through his hair. His heartbeat pounds, racing so fast it feels like it might just give out if he hits a rough wave. Sweat beads down from his temples, sticking his freshly dyed black hair to his skin. His hands grip the denim on his thighs, the fabric damp with sweat. It's good to be alive—or at least to feel like you're being a really, really bad boy.

When Martin opens his eyes again, he finds you already watching him, the cigarette clamped between your teeth as you near the filter. His dilated pupils take in the room but focus solely on you, everything else fading into darkness. With the numbness and the rush of blood through his veins, he knows exactly what he craves now, and by the subtle, knowing smile on your lips, you're just as eager.

He swipes his thumb across the table, collecting the residual cocaine, his skin now dusted with white. Standing slowly, each step deliberate, he approaches the foot of the bed, his gaze locked on you for a few more seconds, his mind racing with possibilities. Grasping your ankle, his fingers wrap around it with ease, tilting your leg to the side. His eyes travel up your bare thighs to your panties, where he spots the telltale wet spot. The sight makes him smirk; you were turned on just from watching him get high, weren't you?

"Lie down here," he commands, his voice low, thickened by the lump in his throat from the drugs he'd just snorted.

Like an obedient pet, you sit up, crawling to the edge of the bed, your eyes never leaving his as you lay down. His hand slides under your jaw, giving a sharp tug so your head dangles off the edge. With the cocaine-stained thumb, he traces your face, careful to keep the powder-laden part untouched, reserved for something else. He removes the cigarette from your lips, placing it back between his own, letting it hang there.

"Tongue out," he orders again, undeniably commanding.

You comply, lips parting, tongue extending, feeling the rush of blood to your head from this angle. Martin drags his thumb along your tongue, the bitter taste of cocaine instantly numbing it. You close your lips around his finger, sucking gently, your saliva washing away the residue. His eyes track every movement, every little sound of satisfaction you make, his own arousal pressing painfully against his jeans.

"Such a good slut, isn't you?" he murmurs through heavy breaths. When you nod, maintaining eye contact, he feels the pre-cum dampening his underwear. "Yeah, I know you are."

His other hand skims down your torso, grabbing the hem of the shirt you're wearing and pushing it up, bunching it over your breasts. The cold air hits your skin, your nipples pebbling under his gaze, eliciting a small sound of approval from him. The sight alone is enough to stoke his impatience.

The smoke he'd held escapes in a slow exhale through his nostrils as he unbuttons his pants, then the zipper, not bothering to lower them further, just freeing his cock. He pauses briefly, pressing it against your cheek while you continue to suck on his finger with all the zeal you possess. It's not long before he replaces his finger with his cock, pushing it past your lips, your mouth welcoming it like it was made for this very purpose.

And maybe it was.

He doesn't linger; patience isn't in his nature. His hands find your breasts, gripping them firmly as he thrusts his cock deep into your throat, igniting a sharp pain. You feel nearly his full length, the angle granting him even deeper access. A low, satisfied groan escapes him, muffled by the cigarette hanging from his lips and his parched throat, as he feels your throat constrict around him, trying to push him back.

"Yeah, it must be hard for you, huh?" His voice is thick, each word laced with the pleasure of his high, feeling like he might burst out of his own skin.

Releasing one breast, he plucks the cigarette from his mouth and extinguishes it between your breasts, the heat making you emit a muffled sound around his cock. Your hands clutch the sheets in a mix of desperation and desire, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer, knowing the latter could choke you. His smile widens as he sees you clench your thighs, the heat from the cigarette seemingly sending a direct jolt to your core, making it throb with need.

He tosses the cigarette aside carelessly, then returns both hands to your breasts, squeezing them hard, using them as leverage. He pulls back slightly only to thrust forward again, deep enough for your nose to brush against his groin. You struggle not to cough, instead swirling your tongue around him, sucking with intensity. The wet sounds of your efforts fill the room as he withdraws and plunges back in, each thrust accompanied by a grunt. The taste of blood begins to mingle with the saltiness of his pre-cum.

"A tough girl, isn't she?" he taunts, his chuckle edged with cruelty, observing your struggle to take him with each aggressive penetration.

His fingers pinch your nipples sharply, causing you to buck your hips into the air, craving more, needing to feel him not just in your throat but everywhere. He notices every detail: your nails clawing at the sheets, your toes curling, the tears streaming down your now flushed cheeks. He finds it all so adorable, watching you get face-fucked by him.

"Are you going to cry on my dick now, beautiful?" His tone is playful, yet the low moan that escapes him when you intensify your suction speaks volumes.

Gripping your throat with one hand, feeling the outline of his own cock through your skin, he senses the pulse of his own arousal. He squeezes, increasing the tightness, watching your tears multiply. So fucking beautiful. He continues his thrusts, your body rocking with each impact against the back of your throat. You're barely breathing, vision darkening at the edges. Martin notices and pulls out, letting you cough and gasp for air.

"Let's let the bitch breathe," he mutters, though it's clear it's just a ruse. He repositions his cock at your lips, pushing it all the way in and holding it there. "We don't want her to pass out. Or do we want to?"

His words are drowned out by the rush in your ears, but your wild, dilated eyes and the saliva escaping around his cock tell him all he need to know. To him, this might be the most beautiful sight he's ever seen, something he could never tire of.

He thrusts one last time before withdrawing, allowing you to breathe. Your mind, foggy from lack of oxygen, barely registers him moving silently to the side of the bed. The sound of his pants hitting the floor catches your attention, and when you open your eyes, he's kneeling between your legs, his underwear gone. With a flick of his wrist, a knife unfolds, the blade shimmering under the blue light, sending shivers through your thighs and stomach.

"Are you scared?" he whispers, with an absolute certainty, noting every part of your body that tenses at the sight of the blade.

He places the knife between your legs, pausing to admire how it looks next to your drenched panties. Then, he lifts the fabric with his fingers, sliding the blade underneath, and with a swift, deliberate motion, he tears them apart, keeping eye contact. The cool air and his heated presence hit your exposed flesh, making you contract and soak even more, exactly the reaction Martin was craving deep within. 

"No." Your response is breathless but filled with conviction. "I trust you." Your eyes lock with his, watching as they darken further with your affirmation.

He leans over you, positioning his hands on one side of your body, leaving the knife conspicuously close to your head. His lips find the sensitive skin of your neck, and your hand instinctively tangles in his dark hair, gripping it firmly. His kisses trail down to your collarbone, leaving a moist path. As he moves lower, your hips rise to meet him, seeking friction against his hard length. His mouth reaches your chest, capturing one of your nipples between his lips. A deep, guttural sound of satisfaction escapes him as he sucks, bites, and teases it with his tongue like it's a delicacy. All the while, he grinds his hips against yours, his cock sliding over your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you.

Moving down your body with a sort of worshipful eagerness, his lips are hungry and giving as they descend between your legs. Locking eyes with you, he delivers a long, slow lick from your entrance to your clit, causing your hips to buck up, pressing yourself against his tongue. Your grip in his hair tightens, drawing a long, drawn-out moan from him as he laps at you, ensuring you're slick with his saliva, alternating between circles and long, passionate kisses. Your taste mingles with the saliva dripping down his chin.

His hands travel back up your body, finding your breasts again, using the remaining moisture to glide his fingers over your nipples, mimicking the rhythm of his tongue between your legs. Your head falls back, your body arching as moans escape you, filling the room. Glancing down, you see him watching you intently, his nose brushing your clit as his tongue delves inside, feeling your walls tighten around it.

"Oh fuck, Martin," you whisper, the words almost delirious, like prayers to an uncaring deity.

Your breathing becomes more strained, your thighs tensing around his head. Your fingers twist in the sheets, your chest heaving. Tremors run through you, and as you lift your head again, you feel your orgasm surging. Your walls clench around his tongue, a louder moan escaping with your climax. Martin pulls back slightly, only to thrust two fingers inside you without delay.

"That's it, fuck, keep going," he almost grunts, feeling your orgasm convulse around his fingers.

You try to close your thighs, but he's quicker. Curling his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside you, he begins to piston them in and out with all the power of his forearm. Your hands clutch at his arms, your nails digging into his flesh, but his response is to slap your cheek sharply before moving his hand to your throat, gripping it firmly.

"Such a tight pussy." His voice is rough, accompanied by the sound of his knuckles slapping against your groin, a sharp pain that pales in comparison to the rest.

His hand releases your throat only to deliver another stinging slap to your face, snapping your head to the side. He grips your jaw, pulling your face back to him before another slap lands, leaving your skin bright red with the imprint of his fingers. A loud whimper escapes you, tears mingling with the burning on your cheek as his hand encircles your throat again. He squeezes as if he could split you in two, cutting off your air. Your hands claw at his forearm, a mix of desperation and ecstasy. As your vision starts to blur, your body convulses, your release gushing over his hand and soaking the sheets beneath you. Only then does the pressure around your throat relent.

But not for long.

His fingers slide out of you, leaving your body in a state of quivering relief, pain, and pleasure. Martin pulls his shirt off, the fabric brushing against his overheated skin, sweat tracing lines down his chest and abdomen. He looks at you, splayed out on the bed, legs wide and vulnerable, your skin red and throbbing from his ministrations, a sight more intoxicating than any drug.

Gripping the base of his cock, he watches you recover, then, without preamble, thrusts into you to the hilt. Knowing how sensitive you are, he covers your mouth with his hand, muffling your scream as your eyes roll back. He feels you clench around him, on the brink of another orgasm, and a loud moan escapes him, his gaze fixed on every twitch and contortion of your body.

"Oh, fuck," he whispers, his hips circling, drawing out the sensation for both of you, throwing his head back in ecstasy. "Such a good pussy." He seems lost in a delirium, consumed by the heat enveloping him.

He suppresses his own sounds, taking pleasure in the controlled release, circling his hips again to hit your sweet spot, making your hips grind against him in response. You're desperate, exhausted, yet craving more even as you try to pull away, needing him above all else.

Releasing your mouth, he lifts your legs onto his shoulders, where they rest heavily. His hands clutch at your shirt, the fabric straining under his grip. He uses it for leverage to start thrusting with brutal force, reaching depths within you that you didn't know existed. Your moans grow louder, competing with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet noises of your arousal driving him wild, your body releasing more juices, gripping him as if it would never let go.

"You're going to cum for me, huh?" His voice is raw, barely coherent. His hips crash into yours with even more intensity, no pause, no mercy. "Get my cock all wet with that delicious pussy, aren't you? Fuck."

You can only nod, words beyond your grasp. A rough moan escapes him, his body bending over yours, your legs still on his shoulders, allowing him to penetrate even deeper. His mouth finds your nipple, licking and leaving it wet with saliva, his moans vibrating against your skin. Your hands dig into his shoulders, clinging to him as the bed shakes with the force of your union. Closing your eyes, you feel your thighs tense, your walls clamping down on him, milking him. Grinding your hips against his, with a loud cry, you climax again, your release soaking the bed sheets beneath you again. 

"Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum," you hear him announce, but your body feels like it's made of jelly, trembling from the sheer intensity of your pleasure.

His hand clasps your jaw, compelling your gaze to meet his. Sweat cascades down his back, droplets falling onto you. His groans are right there, in your face, as you fight to keep your eyes open, locked onto his. You witness his ecstasy, his lips parted, saliva dripping onto your cheeks, and with one final, deep thrust, his cock pulses, emptying every drop of cum inside you. You take it all, more than sated.

He collapses beside you, both of you spent beyond measure. By now, the cocaine must have dissipated from his system. Turning his head, he sees your lips still parted, your cheeks marked by his grip, your thighs quivering and unable to settle. The knife, discarded to the side of your head, glints menacingly.

"You're such a big trouble," he murmurs, but the words are lost to the ether.

And you really are trouble. For numerous reasons. For standing out as the exception, for simply being there. And perhaps most of all, for lying next to that sharp blade, yet to him, appearing far more lethal and perilous in every conceivable way.

But he'd rather die than admit that to you, so fuck it.

[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

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Making Dreams a Reality -Martin Whitlock

I needed Martin content and there is only so many fics written so far and while many of them are fucking amazing, I’ve read them all so I figured, make your own (especially since several people asked for a Martin fic), and make him an Obsessive Yandere Stalker! So without further ado, Yandere Martin Whitlock!

Warning:This is a Dark Yandere!Martin fic with potentially disturbing content, know your limits before reading Dark stories.

This Dark Content includes: Stalking, Use of Roofies,Forced Oral in Sleep (Fem Receiving), Somnophilia, Non/Dub Con, Manipulation, Naked Photos Taken while Asleep,Use of Daddy Kink, Severe Obsession

DD:DNE

Martin had always been a loner, from a very young age he had no friends, was constantly alone, and preferred the company of his skink that he had had since he was 12. He was comfortable in his solitude and always had been…until her.

Y/n L/n. She worked in the bookshop across the street from his favorite Vinyl shop and he found himself going there more and more just to watch her through the window at the register, checking out customers or reading a book. In fact he was there so much that the owner of the Vinyl shop clearly noticed what he was doing and found it funny. The 60 something year old man commented on how “fine” the young girl truly was and that the boy should just “toss her over his shoulder and carry her on home” if he likes her this much.

The Vinyl shop in town was closed for only a day before it reopened with a new manager that was an older lady. She loved to play her music and sing, not caring at all about how long Martin hung around, often appreciating having a strong young man that is willing to help move the boxes of books upon delivery. She only ever commented on the girl he stares at once, encouraging him to go down the street to the flower shop and get her a bouquet to ask her on a date like men did in her day. He loved her sweet idea and made a mental note to bring her flowers one day when she was his girl to spoil her like she deserved.

His girl was lovely. The faces she would make as she read were adorable and Martin found he was smiling to himself every time she smiled or stuck her tongue out between her lips as she focused particularly hard as she counted money in the till. She was precious…and she was his.

As Martin laid in his bed, cum splattered across his stomach and chest after his third time jerking off that night, he knew that he couldn’t go on like this. His imagination could only get him so far.

He needed the real thing.

He needed Y/n…And so he would have her.

It was easy to put his plan into action considering he had been stalking her for almost a year by that point. He paid one of the guys he often does car-jitsu with to follow her in a very obvious way, steering her away from her usual direction home and towards the parking lot where they fight. Martin knew that if she was being followed that she would be drawn to a group of people and he was completely correct.

The first time he saw her out of work (when he wasn’t following her home as she’s just as much of a home body as he is) was from inside the car and he locked eyes with her, instantly trying to push down the reaction his cock was having from seeing the girl he’s wanted to shove it into for months as well as the adrenaline. He nodded his head to her, smiling and she blushed as she watched him pin the man, twisting his arm until he tapped out with the other one. She looked around apprehensively and he made a show of seeming concerned, opening the car door and stepping out, scanning over the small crowd quickly and seeing his buddy had disappeared like he was supposed to…Martin can take it from here.

‘Hi there. Haven’t seen you here before, I would’ve remembered you. Usually its always the same girls or kids recording us.’ He joked, chuckling awkwardly.

‘Oh, no. I’ve never-um…there was this big guy following me after work and I ended up here cause I didn’t want him to know where I lived…I’m sorry, I’m fucking you up right now!’ She apologized as the next guy was rushing Martin to get back into the car.

‘No, please don’t apologize love. Stay and hang out for a bit until you’re sure he’s gone, in fact I’ll walk you home. I won’t let anyone touch you, Scouts honor…I wasn’t a Boy Scout but you get it.’ He got her to smile and he loved it even more than every other smile he’d seen because he’d made it happen. ‘I’m Martin by the way.’

‘Y/n. Nice to meet you Martin, and thank you. Take your time, I’m not in a rush. I would love to see more of…this?’

And so she stayed. He went three more rounds before giving his place over to walk her home. He hated “quitting” but for her? He would tap out a million times over.

‘Where do you work? Must be close if you’re walking.’ Martin spoke, trying to get the basic knowledge that he needed to know out of the way without her realizing that he already knew it.

‘Oh, I work at Plot Twist, the book shop on the corner back there. It was always my happy place in school and when I turned 16 the owner offered me a job since I practically worked there anyway.’ She explained and he could see how much she loved it.

‘That’s cool. You like to read?’

‘Constantly. It’s a perfect job, I get fantastic discounts and I get to read all day when I don’t have to stock or ring people up. Plus the coffee shop next door has great hot chocolate.’ She giggled.

This was a new sound for Martin that he had never heard before and it shot straight to his dick. ‘That sounds really cool, perfect for you. I’ve never been much of a reader but I’ll stop in sometime, I spend a lot of time in the Vinyl shop across the street, I’ve definitely seen you before-I knew you looked familiar.’ He teased making her smile.

‘Well, stop in and I promise I’ll find you something you’ll like. I’ll even give you my employee discount…this is me.’ She said stopping at an apartment complex.

‘Need me to walk you in?’ He offered but she shook her head.

‘You’ve done more than enough Martin. I really appreciate it.’

‘Anytime Y/n, it was really nice talking to you.’ As she moved to open the door he took hold of her hand and bowed his head before kissing her knuckle sweetly, grinning and making her laugh at his teasing.

‘Goodnight Martin.’ With that he watched her walk inside before turning and making his way back home, his erection pressing painfully against the zipper of his jeans.

He had touched her! Only her hand, but her skin was so soft he couldn’t help but imagine it on him everywhere. He was so focused on touching her that he hadn’t even asked for her number like he meant to but she had invited him to her work, he would get it tomorrow. For now, he knew he would be desperately fucking his hand until his cock was raw or until he finally passed out.

‘Welcome to Plot Twist, is there anything that you’re-Martin!’ He watched his girls face light up as he walked in and he was instantly thrilled that he brings her so much happiness. He did have to readjust himself though as she walked around the counter and pulled him into a hug, her breasts pressing to his chest. ‘Are you ready to find a book? What kinds of things are you into besides car fights?’ She teased and he found he couldn’t stop staring at her smile.

‘I’m…I don’t know? I love my skink and music I suppose-‘

‘Music!’ She cut him off. ‘What kinds of music? You strike me as a Hard Rock kind of guy, Maybe you’d be more into magazines? We have a tons of music magazines that you’d probably like? Rocksound? Revolver? I personally love Kerrang myself-‘

‘Oh, I love Kerrang! Gotta order it though, but it’s worth it cause they always have awesome interviews!’ Martin found himself truly surprised by her interest but he was happy for it, he had known that he made a good choice on Y/n and she just kept proving him right the more she talked.

‘Well you can get it here. We don’t get many copies but I always snag one off the top every month. I can do the same for you if you’d like and put it off to the side? Actually, there was one put on hold to be picked up before noon today and they never came, interested?’

‘Fuck Yeah, you are awesome! Gotta make sure I can keep getting them every issue, I have all of them dating back to the beginning.’ He really did have every issue but he knew that was likely to get her attention and give her a reason to come to his place.

‘Oh my God, what?! All of them?’ He nodded.

‘All the way back to June 1981, you should come and check them out sometime. It’s nice to talk to someone who shares my interests in this shitty town.’

‘I would Love that Martin, yeah! When?’ She asked, moving back behind the counter and looking along the shelf, pulling the magazine from the brown paper bag that it had been on hold in.

‘What time are you off? You can come to mine and hang out? Music, horror movies, pizza?’ Martin knew that with anyone else he would come off as awkward and weird but he knew his girl didn’t see that at all and she was quick to agree to the date.

‘Okay! Yeah, I’m done at 5 and I’m off tomorrow, so we can hang out for as long as we want.’ She scanned the magazine alnd applied her discount like she had promised before handing him the bag with a smile.

He didn’t know how long they stood there like that just smiling at each other but they were shaken out of it by the bell above the door that rang as a man walked in. ‘Okay, well I’ll come and meet you here at 5 then.’

‘See you then.’ With that he was out the door, turning back and smiling at her to see her watching him as well.

‘I’m here to pick up a magazine I put on hold yesterday. The name is Barker.’ Martins eyes widened and Y/n just seemed to roll her at him.

‘I said it would be held until noon, it is after noon sir, so sorry. Be here on time next time, like I told you-the magazine is very popular.’ He held in his snort until he got out of the store, grinning like an idiot and nearly running home to clean his room. He pulled out all of the magazines and ordered a pizza to be delivered at 6:30 before showering and washing the blood off of him from the night before that hadn’t come off from just scrubbing his face.

Martin thought about what Y/n’s hands would feel like. They would be soft and amazing, and he’s sure she would clean blood off of him after every night of car-jitsu. She would tend to him like a good girlfriend and he couldn’t wait for it, determined to feel exactly what her hands felt like that night.

He met her at the bookshop right on time and walked her back to his place where they spent the next hour reading through the magazines and talking about their favorite bands. She surprised him a bit with her knowledge but it only made him all the more confident that she was made just for him.

They ate dinner when it arrived and he decided that he couldn’t do without her anymore, he needed to ensure she didn’t leave him. He ended up doing something he knew was wrong but he couldn’t help himself as he made her tea and crushed up the sleeping pills into a white powder, pouring them into the hot drink before delivering it to her on his bed.

They laid there together and she willingly snuggled close to him as they watched her favorite horror movie, staying exactly like that until the medication began taking effect and her eyes began falling shut.

‘God I’m tired…must have been a longer day than I realized…I should get home.’ She yawned but his arm tightened around her waist.

‘You can stay. You shouldn’t be walking this late anyway. I don’t want anything happening to you.’ He admitted and she paused but nodded, not in a place to argue with how exhausted she was.

‘I’m sorry. I’m so tired…I-I don’t…’

‘Me too…I feel like I need a nap…’ Martin responded, pretending to be tired too, laying down onto the bed and giving her space before she did, pulling the blanket over her and closing his eyes and waiting for her to pass out. She actually snuggled up to what she assumed was his sleeping body before passing out.

That was way too easy. He made a vow that he would protect her from anything and everything from that moment on, never leaving her in any kind of danger other than himself considering how easy it was to drug her and she didn’t even question her sudden sleepiness.

He pulled the blanket back down, leaning close and nuzzling into her neck where he licked a trail up to her ear. ‘So fucking perfect Darling. Daddies gonna take such care of you…all mine! Gonna make you feel so good.’ His hands moved to pull at her dress, pushing it up and kissing down her chest and belly, shoving his face between her legs and inhaling deeply. ‘Fuck! I’m gonna taste you for fucking hours!’ He got the dress off of her before pulling out his phone and taking a picture of her pretty red lace panties. He couldn’t stop himself from taking another one before repositioning her and taking another. She was the loveliest thing he had ever seen and he was determined to convince her to pose for him later in their relationship.

Martin pulled her panties down her legs before leaning back down and kissing her thighs several times. She smelled of the pomegranate mango body wash that he knew she used as well as her arousal, a fact that just got him more hard when he realized that she was wet. Sticking his tongue out, Martin gave her cunt a test lick, tasting her for the first time and knowing that he would never get enough of her. He had waited for this moment for so long and it was just as perfect as he imagined, especially as Y/n let out a loud moan upon his lips wrapping around her clit, sucking firmly. It was him! He was here doing this! He was the one making her feel so good!

His cock was throbbing and he could barely stand it anymore, pulling his pants and boxers down before lifting her legs around his waist and resting his member against her slit. Sliding his cock up and down against her was made simple with just how wet she really was. ‘Fuck Y/n, so God damn perfect, aren’t you baby? Daddy’s good little girl, giving me your wet little cunt, never keeping her away from me again.’ He’d already had to wait a year for this moment, he would never wait again, he would make his baby so horny for him that she’ll allow him to use her whenever he wants. ‘You’ll be my needy little baby, won’t you? Yeah, you will. My desperate little Princess.’ He pressed his lips to hers, having to physically restrain himself from not only biting her flesh and leaving hickeys on her but from pressing his cock into her and filling her with everything he had just for her. It was for her, everything that he was belonged to her and Martin truly believed that the only place his cum belonged was inside of his girl-not yet though. He couldn’t risk losing her.

Instead he sat back and finished onto her stomach, panting heavily before taking one final picture, saving them into a private folder that needed a password to access and moving to clean her off. Martin enjoyed the act of cleaning her up, something that he knew he would continue to enjoy doing every time that they were together, determined to make her feel how loved she was. Pulling her clothes back on was simple before covering her with a blanket and laying snuggled up into her side, cuddling into her for the night.

Martin awoke the next morning around 9 and enjoyed his morning with her, watching her sleep peacefully for about 20 minutes before she began moving, opening her eyes just as he shut his and felt her moving around. He peeked his eyes open, watching her move the blanket and check her clothes, seeing that she was still dressed and he had to resist the urge to smirk.

Y/n laid back down, moving closer to him and snuggling him before he groaned, opening his eyes and stretching. ‘Good morning…how did you sleep?’ He asked, smiling at her and watching her blush sweetly.

‘Really well. Your bed is comfortable. I’m still a little groggy but I’m too hungry to care.’ He smiled wider at that, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

‘Let’s order breakfast, I don’t want to move yet. You’re too comfy.’ He teased, nuzzling into her neck and she giggled, settling down against him and letting him enjoy his nuzzling as much as he liked. ‘You’re so soft.’ He spoke before taking a chance and kissing her neck softly. Y/n just tightened her grip on him and so he did it again, kissing up her neck behind her ear. ‘I’ve been dying to kiss you since I first saw you…tell me that I can?’ He whispered to her and she nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck as he moved to press his lips to hers. He settled a hand on her back as his other rested on her hip, rolling them over so that he was on top of her and her legs came up to wrap around his waist. Martin moved his hand to her exposed thigh and pushed it up her soft skin, hearing her moan. He pushed his hips up, grinding against her clothed cunt, her moan turning to a soft whimper and he could feel his cock harder than ever rubbing against her.

‘Don’t stop…Fuck Martin!’ She threw her head back as he trailed his lips back to her neck, sucking and nipping at her skin teasingly before she humped her hips up against him hard. His hands grabbed onto her thighs and he pulled her legs around him tighter, grinding down into her harder than before, feeling the needy mess that she was becoming.

‘You feel so good Princess.’ He mumbled, her hands tangling into his hair and pulling his lips back to hers. He licked her bottom lip and she parted them to let him in, his tongue tasting her for the first time and moaning loudly. He pulled at her dress and her hands moved to yank it over her head, leaving her in her panties which he got a quickly view of, enjoying her exposed tits before she pulled him back into the kiss. He humped his hips against her harder, her legs tightening before she released him again to pull her panties off and dragging his boxers down enough to free his leaking cock which instantly pressed to her slit, the head rubbing against her clit hard enough for her to cry out against his lips. ‘Fuck, you’re so wet…’ he mumbled, never pulling away from her lips. ‘Please? Let me inside? I’ll fuck you so good Princess…fuck! Let Daddy make you feel good…’ He lifted her waist to press harder to her wet slit, her pussy lips parting for his cock as he rubbed against her deliciously.

‘Want you inside me…please?’ She whimpered and he moved to take ahold of his cock, pressing against her hole and pushing into her in one deep movement.

‘Oh Fuck! So tight…perfect fucking pussy…’ he thrust up into her roughly, his tongue licking up her jaw to the shell of her ear while she continued whimpering like a needy whore. ‘Been thinking about this pussy since the moment I first saw you…I knew you’d be so tight for me! All fucking mine now, aren’t you baby?’

‘Yes! Yours Martin! All yours! Oh God!’

‘You wanna cum for me, baby? Wanna cream on my cock? Gonna squeeze me so tight while I fill this little cunt, aren’t you?’

She whimpered, nodding into his neck frantically. ‘Yes! Yes, please?! Please let me cum?!’ Y/n begged, Martin feeling the tears falling from her eyes onto the skin of his shoulder. God, she’s so desperate, he knew she was perfect but his girl is a little slut too. His perfect little slut to fuck and fill over and over.

‘Cum for me baby, cum for me while I fill your cunt full of me! Gonna fuck you until you’re leaking around my cock, my messy little pussy!’

‘Yes! Yours, g-gonna-Fuck! Oh God!’ She cried out quite loudly as she clamped down on his cock like the most beautiful vice grip he’s ever felt. A jolt of pleasure shot up his spine as he came, burying his cock as deep into her as he could and filling her womb with everything he had for her, immediately praying that it takes.

‘Such a little good girl for me. Gonna let your Daddy cum in this hole over and over again until your belly starts growing my baby. Fuck!’ He was still hard, not willing to stop fucking her yet now that he has her. He’s been waiting for her for too long.

‘M-Martin! Oh fuck! What-‘

‘I’m not done with you yet Princess. Told you your gonna be leaking by the time I’m finished!’ He tucked his arms under her back and lifted her up as he sat back on his knees, thrusting up into her body.

‘Oh God! So d-deep! Please-‘

‘Don’t worry Princess, I’m gonna fill you up again. Your womb will be stuffed full of me, I promise! Gonna give you my babies!’ She cried out, pleasure mixing with the pain as he rammed his cock so deep it hurt, fucking her harder than she thought possible but it was so perfect she never wanted him to stop. ‘That’s it Y/n! This body is all mine now, this tight little hole is gonna take everything I give her and beg me for more! Fuck! Take My Cum!’

‘Ahh! Too much!’

‘Never too much for my pussy, she takes everything I give her. Takes Me So-Ahh! Good! Fuck!’ He growled deep in his chest, one arm around her waist and the other holding her shoulder as he pulled her down onto his cock hard and shot his cum straight up into her body.

Y/n had never let anyone cum inside of her before and she never could have imagined someone filling her so much but she could feel the stretch from how full she was and it hurt but it felt so good she could only cry as she came on his cock, squirting around him and making a slick mess all over his thighs.

‘Fuck…such a mess you made my love. Did I make you feel so good you needed to squirt all over me?’ She nodded, tears still leaking from her eyes as he still held her down onto his cock, not about to move from her body. ‘You’re all mine now. I’m gonna fill you with my cum everyday until you are crying in pleasure.’ He promised, pressing his lips to hers softly.

Martin laid her back onto the bed and stayed deep inside of her, his cock kissing her womb perfectly after having battered it painfully with his cock and forcing his jizz into her. He kissed over her face sweetly as she began to drift back off to sleep after the physical exertion.

‘That’s my good girl, you go to sleep. When you wake up we’ll talk all about moving you in here with me. Gonna take good care of my girl and my baby she’ll soon be carrying.’ He swore, kissing her cheek softly before pulling the blankets up over the both of them.

After nearly a year he finally has her just the way he wants her and he will never let her out of his grasp again.

Aemond T. Masterlist

[onemustimagineaemondhappy]

[ravenwing]

* Ravenwing is a place of myths and monsters.

Nestled in a cocoon of thick trees and vines, it is barred from the world.

The iron teeth of its gates spring from the ground and guard it with a jealous ferocity.

A sliver of its slate-dark roof juts out of the foliage, flanked by willowy gothic spires. A single orange light burns in the tall, narrow window; flickering in the dark, and pale during the day.

The house admits no visitors, and none but the foolish wish to enter the property anyway.

On its grounds, a serpentine hedge maze sits and waits, coming alive when the mist descends. Though it would be more accurate to say, when it rises.

No one can tell you for certain how it looks, or how large it is, or whether it hides something.

Whispers, thin and uncanny, became legends, that make conjectures about walls and shrines inside the maze, and howls echoing in the thick, consuming mist, floating on the silent night air, occasionally reaching the slumbering city.

Inside the house, they say, the architecture changes at will. Walls erect themselves, or else obligingly crumble; stairs move, and grow taller or shorter, tripping up unwelcome walkers and leading them into frustrating dead ends. Doors slam and curtains draw when the house’s ire is awakened. Lights go out and rooms drop precipitously into freezing temperatures. Even figures in paintings – figures no eyes have seen – move alongside you, eyes snagged on your form, peering beyond their frames and at times hopping into adjacent ones, to help or deter.

There are all sorts of critters around, that much at least is verifiably true. They can be seen crawling close to the gate, spilling into the land beyond. Never too far, though. Spiders, fat-bellied and astute; black cats with white sigils on their chests and white mittens on their large paws - a sign of luck. Critters that defy description and cataloguing, bugs in glimmering armor, even shadows, agile and articulated, guard the house and grounds.

The Steward of Ravenwing wanders around, rarely seen by anyone. He sleeps most of the day and takes up his nightly vigil when the Sun is long past its zenith. He looks lost and disheveled, often shoeless, in overlarge jeans and a worn shirt, like he’s not of the world. At least not entirely of this one. He talks to ghosts and shadows and spiders, and clams up around people.

Martin is a strange, harassed boy, and many days, he’s barely alive.

I never knew what love was, or how it vanquished terror, selfishness, or even common sense – until I loved him.

This is the story of how we met.

*

[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).

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Ewanverse Masterlist

Martin (in the modern world by Fontaines DC)

V 1

Michael Gavey (Saltburn)

V 1

Osferth (The last kingdom)

V 1

[venmondiese]

MASTERLIST

───. ݁₊ ⊹ AEMOND TARGARYEN

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ CHARACTER STUDY

-ˋˏthe kinslayer

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ONESHOTS

-ˋˏ new year's celebration.

-ˋˏ playing with fire (i)

-ˋˏ burning fire (ii)

-ˋˏstress relieving purposes (i)

-ˋˏanxiety relieving purposes (ii)

-ˋˏa cure for a bad day.

-ˋˏsecret teamwork.

-ˋˏthe needs of a prince are the work of a whore

-ˋˏlittle box full of surprises

-ˋˏa prince's farewell

-ˋˏthe warmth of both bodies (+aegon)

-ˋˏdragon coins

-ˋˏsubtle love, daring words

-ˋˏcome to me, angel of music

-ˋˏ espresso

───. ݁₊ ⊹AEGON TARGARYEN

-ˋˏa king's farewell

-ˋˏthe warmth of both bodies (+aemond)

───. ݁₊ ⊹ MARTIN (in the modern world)

-ˋˏweird hobbies

───. ݁₊ ⊹ MICHAEL GAVEY

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ONE SHOTS

-ˋˏthis party is boring... wanna leave?

-ˋˏ one missing point

───. ݁₊ ⊹ FIRE & BLOOD SHIPS

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪RHAENA X AEMOND

-ˋˏhidden touches

[hoosbandewan]

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

[kaelatargaryen]

Never getting over it

bts of ewan mitchell as martin for the fontaines d.c. ‘in the modern world’ music video.

photographed by emma jones.

[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.”

[alightcaseofohno]

I mentioned this before, but if anyone is up for an RP with Jay from Rialto and Martin from Fontaines D.Cs music video for In The Modern World PLEASE LET ME KNOW

Just comment, and we can follow each other and then discuss in dms. Begging 🙏

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Other people might have moved on from this already, but I am still here

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

[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.

[izfrogzy]

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