#so be nice to me

[sepherinaspoppies]

Temporary Fix

⋆. 𐙚 ˚masterlist ✧₊⁺AO3 ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ taglist

⟢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.

⟢pairing: Martin x Reader

⟢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

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

divider by @saradika-graphics

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.

[maple-moons]

I don't usually do posts with any of my weapons, and I don't think I'll get in the habit.

But this one was just too good not to....

[sneaky-eel]

[perplexedjokist]

quicksilver is good a math, in the sense that he convinces himself he's smarter than it and mocks it

does it help? surprisingly yes

is it weird to be around him while he's calculating because of that? yes, he'll be quietly whispering insults either to himself for mental, or to a literal piece of paper.

[footsteps-on-the-dance-floor]

it's been a while since I posted pics of myself

[secretsandwritinggs]

Something about me wants me to braid Anthony’s hair or at least touch it in someway. It’s probably the most softest, cleanest, and prettiest hair he has ever laid his hand on and in. It’s so thick Anthony doesn’t even realize that he’s being petted on by Kenny. The others are just are laughing at them. They just stand there. They are like this respectively: Anthony - 🙂 and Kenny - 😯 as the petting continues.

I think he’ll only realize when it’s pointed out to him later that Kenny was petting on his curls. That boy would be all sorts of confused. Kenny would be there denying everything, like he wasn’t petting on him for the past twenty minutes?

[eatinggggmoonlight]

if you wanna flay me, let's see what's inside ! ☆ /lyr

[mozzarellatampon]

struck with crippling art block but here's miguel alvarez

[awesome-opossum-after-hours]

"Take me to see the stars 🌟 🌌"

(mini photo dump of my Via cosplay from ConnectiCon last Sunday💜)

[h4ll0w33n-isle]

so you know that scene in anhiliation where they find the house

[moonlightpirate]

Don't judge me too much guys but like how do I know if I'm allergic to something odd? So to not sound stupid I've had a lot of acid reflux and heartburn issues for years on end. Recently I've noticed that when I eat red meat like say steak I suffer more than normal to the point I feel like I'm going to be sick. It doesn't feel normal but I don't want to assume it is a reaction. I'd ask my doctor but she also doesn't really believe me about my tree nut allergy so 🤷‍♀️

[chainsawseesaw]

My babygirl 💙

[lrndvs]

compliments from girls go hard

[penumbraphantasm]

chikorita's my friend. my funny animal. my houseplant with little nails that click on the kitchen tiles.

[icewindandboringhorror]

(also feel free in the tags to clarify Why you made the choice you made!! :0c)

[mochasucculent]

Dumb thing that would not leave my brain