#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?"

[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

[peachysunrize]

CUTIE PIE🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

[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).

[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.

*

[hoosbandewan]

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

[venmondiese]

Don't expect it anytime soon, but I want to do a threesome fic but idk with characters!! so... this is a poll for help

of course, all characters are ewanverse, aemond, billy, martin michael and tommy bennett<3

and if you want me to tag you on it, ask me in the comments?? i'll probably take a while to write it lol

[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.

[zaldritzosrose]

Please enter The Palace, where you will find the soft and fluffier creations (will not include smut).

Any work with ❤️ beside it will be fluff only.

The Last Kingdom x Reader Masterlist

Board (x Reader) Drabbles & Teasers

Goddess x Masema Dagar

Princess x Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

Whore x Criston Cole

Wow, okay, you made it to The Dungeon? Enjoy your smut and angst I guess!?

All work with 🔥 beside them will include smut.

All work with 🗡️ beside them will include angst.

OC Series

HOTD x Reader Masterlist

The Last Kingdom x Reader Masterlist

Dune x Reader Masterlist

Other Characters x Reader

Milestone Celebration Masterlist

Fan Frankentober Masterlist

[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😩😩😩

[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.”

[thought--bubble]

Seph!!!! Omergurdddd

“But I am your good boy. I won’t do it again, I promise.” The dark haired brunette pleaded, caressing his head with your hand. “Please, I'll be so good to you.” 🥵🥵🥵

His best friend being named Will had me thinking of another 3 some fic idea 🤣🤣

This was a little too immersive since I have a lot of the aforementioned piercings! 🤣🤣

Loved this! Amazing as always! 🥰🥰💚💚

Temporary Fix- Martin x Reader

summary: Martin is desperate to feel something. Anything. Rest? Relief? Sleep? Pleasure? Then he meets you, who can assure him that he will feel all of what he seeks.

warnings: drug use, hair pulling, handjob, ball play?, face riding, sub martin, dom reader, clit piercing stimulation, praise, orgasm denial, unprotected p in v, (please don’t be silly wrap that willy), surprise at the end!

wc: 4,675

click here to be added to my general taglist

divider by @saradika-graphics

masterlist

notes: im so sorry this took a long ass time, family problems and I just moved back to Mexico so ive been busy lol.

For weeks, perhaps months, his body was aching. Tension had built up around his lower back, feeling like pins and needles stabbing the muscles of his back. Soon after, those aches and pains shifted over to his chest, and it felt like a heavy weight that couldn’t be shaken away, making it difficult for him to breathe.

Especially late at night. 

Which prompted him to consume one of his mum’s low dosage of Ibuprofen. While the effects of the pill worked, it only lasted about an hour or two the most. Eventually his mum caught on the missing pills, but luckily his mum believed the little white lie he told, excusing it as his sister’s behavior. 

With nothing to dull the never-ending sensation, he needed desperately to find relief elsewhere.  

And that’s how he met you. 

Out of all the places in town, he’d never assumed to meet a drug dealer in an open field, sitting by the train tracks, staring into the distance, with a cigarette in one hand and a lollipop in the other.  

“I have hypoglycemia.” You informed as you turned around. 

It is then when he took in the rest of your appearance. Your eyes were dark, smudged by black eyeliner and eyeshadow. Silver glitter cascading down your cheeks, giving the illusion of tears.  On top of your left brow, two little studs of a piercing decorated your skin. And below that piercing were two other piercings, a septum and a lip ring. 

He tried to picture you without the dark makeup and piercings, somehow he couldn’t. It suited you.  

You wore a t-shirt of one of his favorite bands, Black Sabbath. Paired up with a black tennis skirt and fishnets that accentuated the length of your legs. Truly, you were beautiful. 

“What’s that?” He asked you, off topic, taking a few steps towards you.

You exhaled a cloud of smoke, then dragged your tongue around the sweet. “Low blood sugar. When my sugar levels drop below a certain level, I faint.” He nods his head, noticing another silver piercing on the tip of your tongue. 

Hot. 

He wondered what other piercings you hid underneath your clothes, he had a feeling the facial piercings were not the only piercings you had. 

His ocean blue eyes continued to stare at you, assessing if you were who his mate had referred him to. “You’re Tommy?” He asked. 

You threw your head back in a laugh. “No, that’s my brother’s name. I strictly use it for business.” You kicked the grass that stuck to your boots as you stood up, getting ready for the usual business exchange. “Most people don’t buy drugs from girls.” Though, you didn’t know why. You were great at not getting caught. No one had suspected a thing when you had done a deal next to a policeman. 

“Would you have come if you knew I was a girl?” You questioned. 

“Fair point.” His lips pulled into a faint smirk. “So, what’s your name?” 

You placed your cherry flavored lollipop back into your mouth, hiding the amusement from his view. There was no denying that the guy in front of you was attractive. Judging by his looks alone, he fit right into the description of guys whom you considered your type. 

His long black hair reminded you of Eric Draven, from the Crow. He was tall and lean, similar to the fictional character you had posters on your bedroom walls. But it was his eyes that pulled you in. Which was a shame, you strictly forbade yourself to not date any of your clients. If you’d call them that. 

The last time you did, he left you panicked and traumatized. You have learned your lesson since then. 

“Will, said you need some sedatives. I have some bars; aka Xanax.” You shake the translucent orange bottle of white bars from your pocket. “They’re legit. They work. But it’ll cost you two hundred quid.” 

His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets at the said price. He carried only a hundred in his wallet and a fifty that his mum gave him for groceries. 

Fuck!

His reaction caused you to narrow your eyes, “Fine, one-eighty quid.” You negotiated, putting on your best serious and business face. 

That, however, doesn’t deter him. “One-twenty.” 

You scoff loudly. You were generous by giving him a twenty percent discount, and he wants more?

The nerve of this guy!

“One-sixty.” You counteroffer. 

“One-fifty.” 

“Done.” You reply as you both are quick to exchange goods. Immediately so, you begin to count the money in case of any scams the dark brunette might throw your way. After all, you barely met the guy. 

“Is this…chocolate?” Martin asked, a little taken back that you managed to slip a small Butterfingers next to the translucent bottle. 

Is it normal for drug dealers to provide chocolate to their clients?

He wouldn’t know. Though, the last time Martin bought drugs was with one of his mates, behind a very smelly bin next to a seafood restaurant. Not once did that sketchy, and yet very creepy, dealer gave them a sweet after their transaction. 

He hears you chuckle, a playful look on your pretty face. “I carry candy with me wherever I go. That’s for you. You look like you could use it.” 

“What if you faint?” He stops before you have the chance to walk away.

“Don't worry, I won’t.” You smile, using the heart shaped lollipop to wave him goodbye. 

His eyes watch you walk away, and his breath hitches when a small breeze lifts the back of your skirt, giving him a delicious eyeful of what was underneath. 

-

As soon as his bedroom door closes, Martin begins to inspect the bottle you’d given him. He wondered how many of the little bars he could take. He knew, of course, not the whole thing. His mum would scream at his overdosed corpse and probably descend into madness. 

So it was safe to say, he only took one.

It dissolved on his tongue almost instantly, and about an hour later or so the effects started to kick in. 

The waves of anxiety and the aches and pains Martin usually got during this hour never came. He felt at peace; calm as he stared into the silver glow of moonlight out of his window.

A heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders and for the first time in months Martin finally fell asleep quite comfortably. 

-

This exchange between you and Martin went on for about two more months, meeting at the field exchanging goods and Martin usually attempting to ask you out, only for you to deny him every time. 

Eventually, Martin got the hint and no longer hit on you, much to your disappointment. Not only that, you started seeing him less and less as he only met you once every two weeks. Regularly seeing you every week. 

Maybe you were a little harsh for not giving him a chance. 

But you reckon that wasn’t the case as he would’ve completely cut ties with you. 

There must have been something else on his mind or perhaps his work life got the best of him; which was good. 

You wished nothing but the best. 

After contemplating on whether to call or not call Martin, you decided to instead shoot a message to your shared friend, Will. He informed you that he hadn’t seen him around or heard from him in some days. Which was odd since they were best mates, often talking about random shit (including you but Will would never tell you). 

Will you make sure he’s alright? You texted. 

Can’t. I’m staying over at my girlfriend’s. But since you care about your best customer, go ahead and pay him a visit ;)

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you could hear Will’s tantalizing voice inside your head.

Stupid wanker. You thought as you typed Martin’s address on your phone. 

It wasn’t that far from your apartment, only a couple of streets over that was doable by walking. 

Though, Will mentioned for you to sneak through the upstair’s window as he lived with his parents. You were thankful you wore good shoes fit for the climb but not a good enough outfit as you reckon anyone passing by would get an eyeful of your ass. 

Martin laid on his bed, playing with what looked to be a miniature helicopter. Although you couldn’t hear what he was saying you still found the act a little funny. 

“Martin!” You knocked through the window, not too loud and just for him to hear. You watch as he jolts a little, his face showing a mixture of fear and confusion once his eyes settle on you. 

Instantly, he sets his toy aside and runs to you, opening the window and helping you up. You mutter a breathless ‘thanks’ which makes Martin nod. “What are you doing here?” He asks, a bit surprised by your random presence in his room. 

“Oh, I- wait, what happened to your face?!” You exclaimed, panic rooting deep in your stomach. Martin turned his head away but you weren’t having that. You softly placed your hands to the sides of his cheeks, examining the markings on his face. 

The bruises on his nose and lip were fresh, probably from a few hours or so ago.

“It’s nothing, really.” Martin murmured, attempting yet again to push your grasp. “It doesn’t look like it!” You say, keeping a firm hold on both sides of his cheeks. If you weren’t so concerned about the cuts and bruises, you would’ve taken your time in appreciating how soft and smooth his cheeks were. 

“Why do you care?” He murmured very quietly under his breath as his eyes no longer met yours. 

It was a good question, why did you care? You weren’t this… caring for your other clients. You had your regulars, most of them coming and going. Not once did you bother to think about them, caring only for the cash that kept you well-fed and alive. 

You knew something about Martin was different from the others. Yet, you had a hard time deciphering the answer to his question. 

Why did you care?

“I don’t know. I just know I do.” You sighed, taking a seat right next to him. A long comfortable silence followed between you two, and you took your time to inspect the details around the perimeter of his bedroom. 

A few posters were scattered on his walls, some of them were a few bands such as Nirvana, The Smiths, and one of your personal favorites: Oasis. The other posters seemed to be art pieces done by himself as the various kinds of paint brushes and the smeared paint on the surface of his desk proved it. 

He was an artist. 

Far left towards a desk sat a large terrarium made for a reptile that you couldn’t see. You wanted to giggle at the miniature couch and bed Martin made for the little fellow, it was cute and you could tell how much he cared about his pet. 

“Why did you come?” Martin finally spoke, although faint. 

“Honestly?” You clear your throat as you shift your feet awkwardly, “I hadn’t seen you in a while; I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Not because of the drugs?” He asks. 

You tried to conceal a smile at the mirthful tone of his voice. “No…” 

His eyes narrow at you and you swore you saw a hint of something playful in his features before he shifted his body to face you. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Fine. Yes, also because of the drugs but mostly because… I- I cared for your well being.” 

Oh God. 

Heat expands around Martin’s face, and he was glad that there was barely any light for you to see. “I’m sort of alright,” he shrugs. Martin has been better, definitely when the drugs did their job. 

Your head tilts to the side at the ‘sort of’. “Sort of? Are you not taking them anymore?” Martin shakes his head.

“I don’t like ‘em anymore. Couldn’t feel anything. Nothing.” Martin did not understand why. The first couple of weeks went fine without any trouble or problems. He had become more productive than he’d ever been, from helping his mum and his little sister with chores and homework to picking up extra shifts (which was totally unlike him). 

Then about two weeks ago, everything changed. Martin walked to a new coffee shop when someone— his ex-girlfriend of two years— had accidentally bumped into him as she walked out, spilling hot coffee on his chest and hands. 

Normally, one would wince and possibly shriek at the burning sensation, but not him. He smiled at Lydia as she stammered apologies, not feeling the harsh burns on his skin. 

As an apology, Lydia had agreed to go out for dinner at their favorite restaurant when they were still together. 

They had a good time, catching up about their work, family, and friends. Martin learned new things about her he didn’t even know when they dated. After a few pints and cigarettes, Lydia brought him over to her apartment, where they both stripped each other’s clothes off instantly. 

But along the good, comes bad.

Martin had her on all fours, her cunt glistening with so much of her arousal, needy and ready for him. To his horror, Martin’s dick couldn’t seem to get hard. No matter how many times he fisted himself, his dick was unresponsive. 

Discomfited, Martin practically ran out without an explanation. Dick move, he knows. 

Since then, Martin figured the drug was the cause for his insensitivity. So he stopped altogether. 

“Glad to know I wasn’t the only one,” you slump down Martin’s bed once he finishes explaining. Martin furrows his brows in confusion but soon begins to puzzle the pieces. “So those were your pills?” He recalled that moment when he saw faint letters of a name, your name, printed on the bottle. It was a prescription. Your prescription. 

“Yea, it was to help with my panic attacks,” you explain. Though, carefully not to give too much of your personal information. “While it helped, it also made me insensitive.” At that, Martin sat up straighter attentively listening to you.

“That’s why I got all these tattoos and piercings, I hoped I could feel the pain of the needle as it went right in.” You could still recall the piercer’s shocked expression when you exhibited no look of pain. You confirmed that you weren’t intoxicated and signed a waiver that everyone signs. Yet the piercer had counted to three with every piercing, and not once did you flinch.

Martin glanced up at the piercings on your face, “Did you?” He asked. You shook your head, moving your arms around, to show Martin the many tattoos. He thought of you brave for not even flinching at something so painful. As much as he appreciated tattoos, he would never get one on himself. The thought of needles made Martin a bit light headed. 

“Are these the only tattoos you have?” 

“No, I have more.” If your parents were still alive, they’d go crazy at the amount of tattoos you had. 

“May I see?” 

Your other tattoos and piercings were located in a more private area on your body, and you would’ve said no. But it was the ‘may I’ that made you agree. 

Your fingers lifted the hem of your oversized t-shirt, neatly placing it next to you on the bed. You move your hair to the side, granting him more access and the art that took hours to create on your body. 

Martin sat amazed, especially at one tattoo in particular. A long branch of wild flowers started between your clothed breasts, going down your hip and finally wrapping around your thigh. It was beautiful that he did not notice the belly button piercing just sitting below it. 

The art piece was precise, fully detailed as possible that Martin knew it must've taken you multiple sessions to finish. 

Inadvertently, Martin’s fingers start to trace one of the flowers, following the pattern down and down causing you to hitch your breath at the near proximity of where they were going. 

“Beautiful,” Martin compliments under his breath. Your skin was so soft that he had no desire to take his hands away. 

And you didn’t want him to either. You wanted Martin to continue exploring every inch of your body for his touch was feather-like and gentle, sparking something within you. 

Martin looks at you and your eyes are warm and relaxed. His fingers suddenly halt at your inner thigh, right where the branch ends. “You want me to keep going?” He whispers, moving closer towards you, his hands ready to remove the unnecessary clothing until you said that one word of consent. 

You licked your lips, feeling the heat from his body coming closer and forward. His lips were only a breath away from yours, awaiting an answer from you. 

“Yes,” you whispered back, your head tilting upwards as you brushed your lips with his. The hand that he used earlier, grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you swiftly to close the small gap. 

Your lips were just as he imagined them to be, perhaps even better as he pulled you by your underarms and sat you right on his lap, where you gasped at the hardness of his length pressing against your abdomen, feeling every solid inch of himself. 

And there was plenty of him. 

You continued to chase his lips, never once pausing for required air. The kiss was full of want and need that made you feel like a puddle on his arms. Shivers went down Martin’s back at the cooling sensation of your tongue piercing colliding with his own. Only then, he began to imagine what that piercing would feel like on his cock, resting right there on the bulbous tip where you would swallow every single drop of his come. 

In his desperation, Martin’s hands went to unclasp your bra, only for you to tut at him, placing his hands on back on his sides. “No touching, I call the shots here.” You scolded him as if he were a little boy. 

Martin’s jaw dropped at your dominant tone, not that he was complaining.

“Do you wanna feel with me?” You whispered, trailing your hands up and down his chest, now that you got rid of his shirt, admiring the light brown sprinkles of hair. His pectoral muscles flexing against your delicate touch.  

He nodded vehemently— desperately, blue eyes staring at your cherry pink lips. “I wanna feel everything with you.” It was a want and a need right now. 

“Take off your shorts,” he did as you commanded and you swore your insides clenched at the mouth watering view, “d-do not move or come until I tell you to. Understand?” You asked, keeping composure. 

You sat behind him immediately after he said yes. A part of Martin was a bit confused on what you had planned for him but another part of him found the mystery of it all quite exciting. And he was right, his hips jolted forward as soon as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing so wonderfully.

Martin moaned as you gave open mouthed kisses all around his neck before your teeth grazed around the sensitive skin, marking what was yours. You did the same to the other side until you were satisfied and skin covered with love bites you wanted everyone to see outside his bedroom walls. 

With the same hand, you slowly began to stroke his cock, pulling the foreskin up and down, your thumb resting at his baby pink tip, admiring the way it twitched with more of his arousal. Your other hand, reached to cup his balls, giving them a good squeeze. Combined, made Martin see stars. 

“Oh…fuck,” he stuttered, feeling his end approaching. 

You smirked, stroking his pretty cock faster. “If you come, I’ll punish you. And you won’t like it when I do, baby. I won’t show you any mercy.” The last guy you punished ended up passing out within seconds, and as much as you wanted to punish Martin, you needed him. Needed his cock inside you. 

A part of him was intrigued at what you’d do, but Martin chose not to awaken that side of you. He wanted to be good so that he’d earn his reward. His release.

You watched as Martin kept control of his breathing, his hands fisting the sheets impossibly tight. Meanwhile you found yourself growing wetter and wetter at the little whines he let out. 

This went about a few more minutes until Martin ran out of things to think about to not come. From his grandmother to his best mate, Will. While it worked, the need to release screamed louder with each fast stroke. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck! Please, I can't-can't hold it much longer!" Martin whined, as heat settled in his gut with each involuntary thrust up.

You grabbed his jaw to face you, noticing a few tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. You slowly swirled your thumb at the wet slit, causing Martin to sob loudly. “Aw, you wanna come?” You cooed, biting his earlobe not too harshly. 

“Yes! Yes! Please! I beg you, I- I- need it!” Any more of your teasing, Martin was sure his dick would fall right off. “Please!” He begged yet again, his pretty blue eyes full of want and need. 

When you finally were going to grant his release, he did the unexpected and touched you. Using your hand to stroke his cock at a much faster pace. Then Martin released a long moan of your name as ropes of his come gushed on his lower belly and your hand. 

Finally, he came. 

Just as he relaxed in your arms, he sat back up frozen in fear over what he had done. 

“Did I say you could come?” You questioned, with an angry and dangerous tone. “I’m sorry–” Martin tried to apologize, holding your hand to prevent you from leaving. But you weren’t having it. Those sweet puppy eyes wouldn’t work on you anymore. 

“Only good boys deserve to come. And since you were bad, you don’t get to come anymore–”

“But I am your good boy. I won’t do it again, I promise.” The dark haired brunette pleaded, caressing his head with your hand. “Please, I'll be so good to you.” 

“Then prove to me how much of a good boy you really are, Martin.” His hands automatically shift you down the bed, ripping your fishnets right down the center of where he truly wanted to show you how good he was. 

“No, I wanna sit on your face.” You briefly told him and Martin’s eyes widened with interest. 

“Can you keep this on?” Martin pointed at your fishnets. 

You agreed. 

With great enthusiasm, Martin lays on the bed, ready to use his tongue on you. He hoped he wouldn’t disappoint you, never once did he receive a complaint about his head game. However, in those experiences he was the one in charge. Now, Martin was about to unlock a new experience he was set on trying for years. 

After you rid yourself of your bra, you hurriedly crawled your way to Martin’s face, setting your knees on both sides of his face. Martin’s eyes darkened, not only at your heart shaped nipple piercings on both of your breasts, but the piercing over the small hood on top of your sex. 

A clit piercing. 

“Be a good boy,” you instructed before you lowered yourself on his mouth. Your hands gripped the metal bed frame for leverage as you slowly grind your cunt, back and forth. 

Martin hummed, in total bliss at the taste of your sweet slick that was coating his face. You moan loudly as he moves his nose against your piercing, sending shocks of pleasure to your spine. His tongue feasts on you, licking the seam of your folds with each of your grinds. 

You press your core closer to his face, unconcerned if Martin could breathe; not that he minded. It was a good way to die, though. And your jaw drops open with multiple breathless moans, once his tongue made its way inside your entrance, licking inside your quivering walls. 

Martin’s eyes stared at you as you were lost in complete pleasure, you truly looked devine sitting on his face. He could come on just this alone, but he didn’t want to risk another punishment from you. Martin was set on being your good boy, so for now he had to follow your instructions. 

“Yes, that’s it!” You rip one of your hands from the headboard and dig them into his hair, guiding him where you want him, as you are getting closer to that cliff of euphoria. Martin happily goes where you want him. 

When you guide his head towards your bud, Martin moves his nose at a much faster speed. When you guide his head lower, Martin sucks and licks at your entrance vigorously. 

“S-so good!” You praise and it took everything in Martin to not come. 

Martin moans. The vibrations alone cause your thighs to shake and release multiple broken moans as that tight coil at the pit of your stomach finally snapped, triggering your release. 

“Oh fuck, Martin!” You shout, pinching your hardened nipple for extra stimulation. 

Martin laps every gush of your sweetness, licking you clean through your orgasm. He watches as the apple of your cheeks flush bright red, and your eyes flutter rapidly in what he thinks is bliss. 

“I’m too sensitive now,” you whined as you laid down next to Martin, basking in the aftershocks of your orgasm.  

Martin frowns, he wanted to make you come another round, this time–with your permission– he’d use his fingers. 

“Did I do good?” Martin asks as he lays on his side to face you. 

“Perfect.” 

“Do I get a reward?”

You throw your head back and laugh. “No.” You say as you straddle his hips, and Martin hisses when you grip the base of his cock, running the swollen head around your pussy, gathering wetness before you slid down. 

Martin’s eyes roll in the back of his head over the smugness and warmth of your tight walls clamping down at him. The feeling of you was indescribable, heavenly; and he couldn’t do anything but groan and grip tightly at his sheets, desperately wanting you to move. 

Once you adjusted to his overly girthy length, you began to grind your hips at an angle where you could feel the head of his cock kissing your cervix and hitting that special spot inside of you that had you cross-eyed. 

Fuck he was big. 

“I won’t be able to last much longer,” Martin warns, gasping at every clench you give. 

“Don’t you fucking dare, Martin.” You snaked your fingers down your bud, circling your pierced clit before you came once again with a loud whine so unlike you. 

However your eyes, in which you didn’t realize were closed, shot open as you felt Martin’s cock pulsate and instantly separated yourself from him causing him to whimper over the loss of contact. 

“Please! I need-want to come inside of you!” He cried, chasing his hips towards your pussy. 

You denied him that and started again. 

Every round Martin was close to coming, you detach yourself from him. Until your hips became somewhat sluggish, Martin took you by surprise and threw you at the end of his bed, mounting you from behind. You were at a loss for words as he slid inside of you without warning, giving hard, fast, and needy thrusts. 

“Be a good girl and take what I give you,” Martin mumbles as he grips the roots of your hair, forcing your head to look at him. “You don’t get to come anymore. Do you understand?”

You have no choice but to oblige.

[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 🙏

[vhagar-balerion-meraxes]

💎 Ewan Mitchell - In The Modern World 💎