Main -> @gibsluv

imagine mentor mattheo teaching reader auto control, fucking her and telling her she can’t cum until he says so

⊹ ࣪ ˖ mentor!mattheo teaching you self-control

warnings ; 18+ mdni, fem!reader, unprotected p in v, fingering, choking, spanking, biting, praise, slight degradation, power imbalance (?)

₊⊹ navigation ; mentor!mattheo ; au’s ; m.list

“you’ll never survive if you can’t control yourself.”  

his voice is low, dangerous, cutting through the silence of the empty training room. your chest heaves as you stand across from him, sweat slicking your skin, your muscles burning from hours of drills, the scent of sawdust and steel lingering in the air.

“again,” he says, but there’s something else behind it this time. something sharp.  

“that last drill was good enough,” you snap, wiping your face with the back of your hand, your heart still racing—not from exhaustion, but from the way his eyes have been burning into you all day. dark, unrelenting.  

he pushes off the wall, moving closer, his boots soundless against the floor. “no. you’re impatient,” he murmurs, circling you slowly, his breath warm against your neck as he brushes past. “reckless. always wanting to skip to the end. to take what you want without waiting for it.”  

you swallow hard, your pulse thrumming in your throat. “maybe i just don’t see the point in waiting.”  

his fingers ghost over your wrist, tugging you toward the door without another word.  

your room is dark, the digital windows set to an image of the city streets. mattheo’s hand grips your jaw the second the door shuts, his thumb pressing just hard enough to make your breath hitch. his eyes—dark, predatory—roam down your body, lingering on the flush creeping up your chest.

“strip,” he orders, voice a low, dangerous drawl.  

you hesitate, stubborn as ever, and his brow arches.  

“don’t make me ask twice.” his tone is calm, almost amused, which somehow makes it worse. “you’re not in charge here. i am.”  

your fingers tremble as you pull your shirt over your head, stripping down until you’re bare under his gaze. mattheo steps closer, his fingers hooking under your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.  

“that’s better,” he murmurs, brushing a thumb over your bottom lip. “always so fucking defiant… but look at you now. doing exactly what i say.”  

he backs you onto the bed with slow, deliberate steps, his grip never loosening. you expect him to kiss you, but instead, he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear.  

“you’ve got no patience,” he says softly, fingers trailing down your thigh. “no self-control. lucky for you, i’ve got plenty for both of us.”  

his hand snaps between your legs, slapping your inner thigh, and you gasp, your body jerking.  

“hold still,” mattheo growls, his hand coming down again, harder this time, leaving a sting that makes heat bloom low in your belly. “you don’t move until i say.”  

his fingers slide between your folds, gathering your wetness before pressing two fingers inside you. his thumb circles your clit in slow, lazy motions, deliberately not enough, building a tension that has you squirming beneath him.  

“already so fucking desperate,” he taunts, curling his fingers in a way that makes your back arch. “look at you. soaking my hand like a good little tribute.”  

your cheeks burn at his words, but the embarrassment only makes you wetter.  

“please,” you gasp, your hips rocking against his hand.  

“please, what?” he pulls his fingers out, holding them up to your lips. “taste yourself. then maybe i’ll give you what you’re begging for.”  

your tongue flicks out hesitantly, and he groans, his thumb pressing against your chin as he watches you.  

“fuck, you’re filthy,” he mutters, slipping his fingers back into your mouth. “and you’ll do anything i tell you, won’t you?”  

you nod, too far gone to argue, your tongue swirling around his fingers as he presses his knee between your thighs, keeping you spread for him.  

“such a quick learner,” mattheo praises, withdrawing his hand to grip your waist, flipping you onto your stomach in one swift motion. “hands on the headboard.”  

you obey, your breath catching as he presses his cock against you, the blunt head dragging through your wetness. fuck, when did he even take his pants off?

“you want it?” he asks, voice thick with condescension, teasing you with shallow thrusts. “say it. tell me who you belong to.”  

“you,” you gasp, your fingers curling around the headboard as you push back against him. “i belong to you.”  

“damn right you do,” he growls, slamming into you with one brutal thrust that knocks the air from your lungs.  

his hand snakes around to wrap lightly around your throat, not squeezing—just enough to remind you who’s in control. his other hand cracks down on your ass, hard enough to make you yelp.  

“quiet,” mattheo snarls. “you don’t want the boy tribute hearing you from his room, do you? or should i let him see how fucking pretty you look when you’re being ruined?”  

your walls clench around him at his words, and he laughs, dark and breathless.  

“oh, you like that,” he says, his grip tightening around your throat, his hips snapping harder, faster. “filthy little thing. so eager to be fucked by your mentor.”  

the tension coils tight in your core, your body trembling as you teeter on the edge.  

“don’t you dare cum yet,” mattheo warns, his voice a low snarl. “not until i say.”  

“i can’t,” you sob, your head dropping back onto his shoulder. “please, i can’t—”  

“yes, you can.” his teeth sink into your neck, biting down just hard enough to leave a mark. “you’ll wait. and if you don’t, i’ll pull out and make you finish yourself while i watch.”  

the threat makes your thighs shake, your breath hitching as you claw at the headboard, holding on for dear life. mattheo’s hand slips between your legs, his fingers rubbing your clit in quick, rough circles.  

“cum for me,” he finally growls, his voice thick with need. “now.”  

your orgasm rips through you, white-hot and all-consuming, your body clenching around him as you scream his name. mattheo’s thrusts grow erratic, his breath ragged as he follows, spilling inside you with a low, guttural curse.  

he stays buried inside you, his forehead pressed to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. for a moment, there’s only the sound of your ragged breathing, the weight of him holding you down.  

“good girl,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. “took it so well. didn’t even break.”  

© leona-hawthorne 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost any of my writing.

🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

https://x.com/sensualarchives/status/1892277877170696505?s=46

peacekeeper coryo

🔗 (plink)

mmmm peacekeeper!coryo who’s obsessed with his pretty slut from district 12. he’d make fun of the way you practically beg for it, pleading snow—that’s how he orders you to address him, never by his first name—to make you feel good. he didn’t expect anything else from district scum, though. you’re useless anyway, except when it comes to giving him pleasure. the way he degrades you, fucks you and slaps you until you’re all bruised up and sore causes him to relish the power it gives him. you’re his. his toy to use whenever he wants to. and he won’t hesitate to hurt, or maybe even kill, whoever touches what’s his. “you’re mine now, you understand? mine to kiss, mine to touch, mine to use.”

— mean ex boyfriend!enzo;

coming soon; what’s better than a mean ex-boyfriend? a bitter ex-girlfriend.

mean ex boyfriend! enzo x mean fem reader.

Lorenzo Berkshire was a snake, the worst of them all; he cheated, he lied, and he made your life a living hell, but the worst part was that no one wanted to believe you. No matter how hard you tried to expose the truth, the world only saw what they wanted to see—his charming smile, his words always with fake sweetness; to everyone else, he was just the façade he created. But you knew the truth; you saw past the mask; you used to live under it, and now you were willing to prove to everyone what a disgusting person he really was.

But toxic habits never die, and no matter how hard you tried to cut ties with Enzo, you two always found your way back to each other.

© mattnott 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎, 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕, 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔.

navigation. masterlist. you’re responsible for your own media consumption.

۶ৎ riding boyfriend’s brother!mattheo in your room

boyfriend’s brother!mattheo x fem reader warnings ; 18+ mdni, unprotected p in v, face slapping, choking, dirty talk, finger sucking (?), cheating boyfriend's brother!mattheo moodboard

navigation. au collection. m.list. bfb!mattheo.

mattheo's fingers dig into your thighs, the heat of his palms branding your skin as you grind down on him, the weight of what you’re doing lost somewhere between the haze of arousal and the sharp edge of knowing you shouldn’t. knowing this is wrong. knowing you’re on top of your boyfriend’s brother, his hands gripping your ass like he owns it, his cock buried so fucking deep you can barely breathe.

"you should be fucking ashamed of yourself," he murmurs against your skin, voice dripping with mockery, his breath hot where it ghosts over your jaw. his fingers are bruising into your hips, keeping you where he wants you, dragging you down onto his cock at a pace that has your nails digging into his shoulders, useless in stopping him.  

"shut up," you hiss, even as your thighs shake from how deep he is, even as your body betrays you and clenches around him like it’s starved for it. mattheo chuckles, low and taunting. 

and then it happens. a sharp knock at the door.

“love?” tom’s voice is right there, on the other side of the wood. “why is the door locked?”

your heart slams into your ribs, your body going rigid as mattheo smirks up at you, completely unbothered. he’s still inside you, still hard, and now his hands are sliding up your waist, like he’s daring you to move, daring you to react.

tom knocks again. “are you in there?”

mattheo fucking smiles.  

you barely register your own voice when you respond, breathless and high-pitched. “y-yeah! just—just changing, tom, one second!”

mattheo’s amusement is damn near palpable. you can feel the low laugh rumbling in his chest, the way he’s seconds away from ruining you, from saying something that will have your entire life crumbling at your feet. without thinking, you slap a hand over his mouth, the other wrapping around his throat in a desperate attempt to shut him up.

“don’t,” you whisper with wide eyes, your voice just loud enough for him to hear, just soft enough that tom won’t.  

his lashes flutter. he fucking moans. it’s quiet, muffled against your palm, but you hear it. you feel the vibration of it against your skin, the way his adam’s apple bobs under your fingers as his smirk deepens, those dark eyes gleaming with something downright depraved.

and then his lips part, his tongue flicking out to drag wet heat against your palm.  

your stomach twists.  

"you don’t want him to hear, huh?" he mumbles when you pull your hand away, smug and cruel, eyes dark with something lethal.  

"obviously," you snap, but you already know you’ve fucked up, because mattheo's grin stretches wide like a predator who’s caught its prey, head tilting against the pillows as he watches you, eats up the way your chest rises and falls, the way you’re still fucking seated on his cock while your boyfriend stands just outside the door.  

"gag me then," he taunts, his voice nothing but pure sin. "if you’re so desperate to keep quiet."  

it’s the way he says it. so easy. so casual. like he isn’t already pushing every single fucking limit. like he isn’t already unraveling you piece by piece. you snap before you can think twice, shoving your fingers into his mouth, pressing down against his tongue in warning.

his reaction is immediate. his lips wrap around them, a hot, wet heat as his tongue swirls, slow and deliberate, teasing like he has all the fucking time in the world, making a show of it just to watch your face twist in something you refuse to name. your thighs involuntarily twitch where they’re straddling him.  

his lashes flutter, gaze hazy as he watches you, eyes so fucking smug it makes you want to slap him.

so you do.

your palm collides with his cheek, the sharp sound of it echoing through the room. mattheo groans, half-lidded eyes darkening as his hips jolt up into yours, dragging a choked noise from your throat. his hands tighten on your waist, his nails biting into your skin as his smirk deepens.

“oh, you little minx,” he murmurs around your fingers, voice rough, wrecked.

“you’re fucking sick,” you hiss, but your thighs are trembling and he fucking knows it.

“oh, i know.” his hands slide lower, squeezing your ass, dragging you forward until you can feel every inch of him pressing into you. his breath fans against your skin, words thick with satisfaction. your saliva covered fingers draw out of his mouth. “but i also know that you fucking love it.”

your breath stutters. your chest tightens. because he’s right. you do. and when his grip tightens and he pulls your hips down again, forcing you to move, forcing you to keep going, your resolve shatters completely.

“tell me, baby,” mattheo purrs, rocking into you slow, teasing, dragging the pleasure out until your fingers are curling against his jaw. his smirk is still there, lazy, smug, victorious. “are you sick too?”

© leona-hawthorne 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost any of my writing.

ʀᴇꜱᴛʟᴇꜱꜱ.

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader | no use of y/n | warnings: NSFW, p-in-v penetration, swearing, dirty talk, sofa sex, quickie that became a longie, making-out, dry humping, Jace is desperate and he needs to take his frustrations out somehow, theres a brief pussy slap bc it felt right, cream-pie at the end, fully clothed raw dogging; They’re betrothed and this takes place at the start of the DoD, I didn’t make any other specifications cause they were too busy fucking. This is very heavily inspired by his scene in the season finale :3

Hot stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

He’d been pacing in his chambers for the better part of an hour with only his thoughts as company. Jacaerys felt useless, to say the least. Useless, needlessly coddled, suffocating between the walls of Dragonstone. He wanted to be of help to his Queen, to fight for the realm on dragonback against the Greens as was his destiny. His calling. Instead, he was made to spectate at council meetings and wait endlessly for a moment that would never come, it seemed. The ‘what ifs’ kept him spiraling, uncomfortable in his own mind, and he found his feet moving before he could consider a destination. He knew where to go. It was too easy not to. And she wouldn’t mind. His hesitance sent a bit of doubt down to his stomach on whether or not he really wanted to bother her, but she would’ve figured out his sour mood anyway. It was better to face up to himself than keep it locked away inside. The hastening of his footsteps echoed off the spacious corridors, and as if she had sensed he was on his way to her, the doors to her chambers were left ajar—just enough for him to see her peaceful face trained down on her book.

His knuckles gently tapped against the threshold, announcing his presence as he entered. His betrothed glances up, looking twice as she realizes who her visitor is. “Good morrow.” She hummed, legs tucked up and under her comfortably on the divan. His pretty brown eyes took in her room, a place he found himself in considerably often. Depending on the circumstances, obviously. And the hour. Everything was kept neat and tidied, but he could still see the traces of her, where she’d made a sort of home for herself. Books and tomes stacked three or four each on various surfaces, the tea she’d left nearly untouched on the nightstand. He loved it. “Good morrow.” Jace responded, gently shutting the door behind him, head tilted back against it for a moment, unable to hide the frustration that had grown in his own chambers. He said nothing. Unsurprisingly, the words caught in his throat on the way out.

She pats the spot beside her on the divan, the book not yet closed, but her attention had shifted from the pages to his furrowed brows. He obeys, crossing the room to sit by her without second thought. His mind had quieted, at least. Their shoulders brush together lightly as he finally manages to say something else. “What are you reading?” She could tell already that something was off with him, but still indulges in his question, turning it over to show him the cover. Something vaguely historic, he catches, but he was too distracted by her soft hands clutching the book to see much else. “I figured I’d better read a bit more to catch up with the talk of war. This one isn’t entirely as dull as I thought it was going to be, thankfully.” With that, she closes it shut, putting it down on the stand beside the divan, shifting her body just enough to face him. “How are you faring, Jace?”

“I’m well enough.” He muttered, leaning back slightly. It was a lie and she saw right through him without much else. “I just…my mother is worried. She’s trying to hide it behind orders but it's catching up to us now. All this.” He was gesturing to the war, of course, fingers tapping in his lap anxiously. “And I can’t help her. She won’t let me help. I don’t know what to do. I’d much rather be out there, making a real difference to tip the scales, and instead I’m stuck here at Dragonstone doing nothing but waiting.” His betrothed nodded along as she listened, digesting his admittance before considering her own words. “You’re restless, dragon.” There was a truth to it, despite the statement mostly being a gentle tease. The corners of his lips lift just a little at the nickname. “I can’t help it. I feel antsy knowing I have the capabilities to do something, and I’m not allowed to.”

“We’re still in the beginning of this war—and you’re the heir, Jace. Even if there was a battle taking place just outside of Dragonstone, you and the Queen must stay here.” He’d heard that a thousand times before from his mother and the members of her small council, and a thousand times he felt undignified—but hearing it from the lips of his bride-to-be, there was no malice or taunt or scold behind her tone. She was reminding him of a painful candor. His safety mattered. “I feel powerless.” He admits, frustration accompanying the embarrassment that came with the insecurity. “I feel like a little boy begging to add his opinion during council meetings. They respect me because I’m the Prince of Dragonstone, her son, not because I’m good at my responsibilities. What good am I in this war if I can’t help my mother get her throne back?” The last few words exited his mouth with bite, self-loathing and irritation cutting him like a double-edge sword.

“You’re wrong about that.” She reaches out to take his arm, her hand wrapping around his bicep as she intertwines their fingers with the other. “Your living and breathing is the strongest power of all. You’re strengthening your mother’s claim by doing just that. I know you want to fight, to do something that matters. But true power is not just grandiose displays of strength or victories in battle, it's also purpose. The meanings behind our choices. People are raising the Queen’s banners—and those are your banners too. They want to fight for you as much as they do for her, because the two of you are the rightful heirs to the throne. The Greens can try as they wish to Usurp what belongs to the Queen, but their actions are unjustified. King Viserys made his choice and he stuck to it until his passing. That is power.”

“All this book reading is making you wiser than me.” He grumbled, although there wasn’t any malice behind it. “I’d still rather be swinging a sword at some idiot knight instead of sitting within these walls looking pretty—but I understand that you’re right.” He concedes, a small smile gracing his handsome face. She chuckles at that. “I’m sure you’d be pretty no matter what, even muddied and bloodied on the battlefield.” She sighs though, glancing out at the daylight swarming into the room through the window, hand still nestled in his. The gentle touch sent goosebumps up his neck, tightening his trousers with every second her warmth continued to seep into his leather doublet. “The meeting is likely starting soon.” Her voice interrupts his thoughts of nipping at the supple flesh at her neck.

Jace groaned aloud, head dropping back against the divan in pure annoyance, good mood spoiled at the reminder. “I’d honestly rather get swallowed by dragonfire than sit in that room for the next three hours, listening to those old fools drabble on about who knows what.” He turns his body—not unlike a roll—to shield his face on her shoulder, unwilling to part from her. “I want to stay here with you, alone and in peace as we were.” She snorts lightly as he inhales deeply, arm snaking around her waist in want. “The Queen will be expecting us, my prince.” She looks down at his dark curls, twirling one around her finger. His breeches certainly tighten now. “...My interests are elsewhere.” He murmurs, annoyed at the thought of being pulled away, face inching closer to her neck until his lips press against her smooth skin. “Jace.” She warned, although there wasn’t as much resistance in her tone as he’d expected, and a quiet sigh flows past her lips. “We can’t be late. That’s disrespectful to the council members.”

“The denial of devouring you because of those ancient rats only serves to make me want to go even less.” He shifts in place, head still dipped by her jugular, hands bracing the back of the divan with newfound purpose, trapping her between the corner of it and his own scalding body. She gasps as his teeth sink into her skin, earning a low sound of pleasure from his throat. “We can be quick if the meeting matters to you that much.” He mutters against her, a slight tease as he nips at her harder this time, his nose nudged into her jaw. “I don’t need to wait until nightfall to make you see the stars, my Lady.” Her remaining restraint crumbles at that, hands coming to undo the lacings of his breeches. “..Fine. But you can’t touch my hair.” He seemed like he wanted to protest at the idea of limited touching, but that gleam in her eye meant she was serious, and it was likely they’d miss the meeting as a whole trying to figure out how to braid her hair that way again. “Okay. Deal.”

His mouth returns to her throat, biting and sucking greedily with reverence, his hands finding purchase at her hips to start bunching her skirts up. “Jace..” She exhales, shuddering at the way he was marking her skin—he wasn’t leaving any stones unturned, and they were going to show. Her fingers plucked at the lacings with success, tugging him closer to her now by the waistline of his breeches. His fists clench around the fabric of her gown, a deep grunt echoing from his chest as his clothed cock pressed into her plush inner thigh. “Gods—I need more.” Jace retracts himself from her neck, pulling her body down the divan, just enough to lay her flat on her back. She wraps her thighs around his hips, a strangled moan failing to come out as he kisses her, pushing himself against her core. He rolled his hips down with a fury, nothing deliberate about it—just to feel something, to get out the pent up desperation he’d felt for weeks since his return.

His tongue explores her mouth with an eagerness that made them both flush, using her skirts as purchase to buck himself harder into her cunt. “You make me this way.” He grunts against her lips. His stomach was already tightening with every bit of friction they could get. “Do you understand? You’re just so pretty and you smell divine—fuck.” Jace grits his teeth, biting at her lower lip. She was a panting mess beneath him, unable to do anything other than take it, digging her nails into his shoulders to cope with how good it felt. His weight pinned her down deliciously, hips still incessant and rubbing against her with enough force to make the divan squeak. It was like music to his ears. “I’m already close just feeling your sweet cunt, my love.” Jace pulls up her gown a bit more, almost up to her ribs, to watch the tent in his pants glide up her glistening folds like a man bewitched. “You need to see it–” He grunts, bracing himself on the armrest behind her head, lifting himself just enough to make a space between their bodies. The sight was a wicked one.

“Look at the way you take me.” He urges, voice hoarse this time, eyes meeting hers from above. “Soaked enough to wet my breeches—and I’m not even inside of you yet.” Her nails dig harder into him, a breathless whine at the disbelief of it all. “Please Jace!” She mewls, shivering, and he grins, snapping his hips against hers with reverence. “Please what, my love? Use your words.” His tone was mocking, teasing, and eager to make her squirm. The quiet shuffling of their clothes was driving her to insanity—and she wanted more than anything to pull it all off, but they had places to be very soon. “I need—Gods! I need you, Jace!” He was more than pleased by that, and he somehow carries enough restraint to stop himself from finishing right there. Jacaerys pulls himself back to tug down his breeches down just enough, his cock momentarily springing back to hit his stomach.

She melts at the sight of his tip—red and leaking shiny precum back toward his shaft. He was the perfect size for her; not too big or too small, and pretty just like the rest of him. Jace hisses quietly as the sensitivity hits him, dipping himself between her folds just to savor the moment. “Mmm look at your pretty cunt, my love. So beautiful.” He murmurs, his own thighs trembling as he slides his shaft through your slick. “Thighs up, sweet girl.” Her eyes roll back as his tip presses into her little bud, the motion agonizingly slow, and she nearly hadn't heard him. She braces her thighs to her chest as much as her bunched up gown would allow, gaze locked on Jace's angled face that was furrowed in concentration. She watches, face reddened, as he spits down onto himself, lubricating the way even though it probably wasn't needed with how soaked she was. Suddenly, his palm comes down on her clit, surprising her with equal amounts of pain and pleasure—she nearly came with a meek gasp of his name, inadvertently yanking his hair. “Jace!”

“Sorry. Couldn't help myself.” He grins, lips meeting hers in a sweet peck. “I want you to look at me when I slip it, love—look nowhere else but right here.” As he guides his tip inside, her breath hitches, captivated by the stretch of him and the glossy brown eyes staring down at her, hazed with lust. A growl erupts from his throat, feeling suffocated now by her walls, and he couldn't get enough. Jace wasn't one to swear often in front of his wife-to-be, but the obscenities flew from his mouth like she was his prayer, sinking himself slowly inch-by-inch. Not that his betrothed was in any better condition. She was clawing at him now, whining and squirming uncontrollably at the delectable sting that came with taking Jace. It hurt so good, and she was sure she'd throw a fit if he dared to pull out for whatever reason. Meeting be damned. Seated fully in her hot cunt, Jacaerys grips the back of her right thigh, pacing himself to allow her to adjust first.

They wait in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, no noise in the room other than their soft pants, and a few breathless giggles as Jace shields her eyes from the attacking sunlight. Silently, she cues him to continue. “Good girl.” He murmurs, starting slowly with gentle strokes that make her stomach warm. “Taking me so well, my love.” He hovered over her still, his other hand braced against the armrest as he watched himself disappear inside of her, a shiver rolling down his spine. “So good.” She mewls, leaking around his cock. Jace leans his head down to connect their lips again, tongue darting into her mouth like he owned her, his free hand taking a greedy handful of her breast through the gown. Moans swallowed down between kissing and breathing, the only sounds that could be heard were the chirping birds and the vulgar slapping of skin as the pace quickened. She could only hope no one would come looking for them—or walk down the corridor even. She couldn't recall Jace locking the door behind him. “I'm close—” He grunts, pulling back from her lips to rock his hips with fervor. “I'm so fucking close, love.”

The divan beneath them was far more noisy now than it had been when they were grinding. Jace had half a mind to let the damned thing break, especially with how tight she squeezed around him, sucking up every inch he provided. Outside, the bells of Dragonstone rang, signaling high noon was upon them—Gods, the meeting. “We need to hurry up!” She pants, thigh hooking around him, just as eager to come. “You promised this would be quick!” Irritation bubbles up in his stomach, and Jace gathers her in his arms, fed up with the thought of having to sit through yet another council meeting. “You want me to hurry up?” He grunts, although it came out as a hiss more than anything, his left foot planting firmly on the floor beside the divan. “Fine.” She couldn't make herself regret her demand even if she tried. Jace stood up straight as a board, his sweet girl being gripped by her gown as he fucked up into her with reckless abandon. She couldn't even remember what it felt like to breathe when her release came, senses flooding with pleasure like she'd been numb her entire life. His cock was hitting that spot like a bullseye, not stopping even after she started yanking on his hair from the overstimulation.

“Do you like it when I hurry, love?” He rasped breathlessly by her ear, one arm around her middle now while his right hand cradled the back of her neck. “You certainly like when I take out all my frustrations on your pretty cunt—Gods, I'm coming. I'm fucking coming sweet girl.” Jace chokes, exhaling sharply through his nose as his hips began to stutter, losing his brutal pace. “Can I come inside of you? Please?!” The beg falling from his plush lips sent a thrill down her spine, and she moaned out her agreement even after he asked twice for confirmation. That's all it takes for Jace to press her into the divan again, fucking her hard, fast, and sloppy, his body laying over hers in the desperation of chasing his release. He buries himself against her chest, coming deep within her as a long, drawn out groan escapes him. The relief was instantaneous; anxiety gone, frustration fucked out of him, and only bliss was left behind. Balls deep, he couldn't tell where she began and he ended. Silence. Rapid breaths. Stilled hips, other than an occasional twitch as they reeled from their orgasms. He lifts his face from her chest weakly, a lazy, sated smile gracing his handsome features. “Sweet girl..” He starts. Her eyes flick up to look at him, equally as spent and satisfied. “Mmhm?”

“I think we're late for the council meeting.”

FICMAS #4— SLOW DOWN! / mattheo riddle

december 15th

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary: mattheo’s got a little crush on you, but you keep running away every time he tries talking to you!

warnings: smut, unprotected piv, fingering, creampie, spanking, mentions of blood

words: 3.9k

a/n: i’m very very sorry for pushing this back so much—i’ve been really busy, plus i just procrastinated this one a lot. next one will be posted tomorrow so i can get back on schedule. anyways, enjoy!

navigation ficmas masterlist

The corridor was unnervingly quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of parchment or the faint scrape of shoes against stone. You hugged your books tightly to your chest, trying to make yourself invisible as you hurried toward the sanctuary of the library. The cold December air seeping through the ancient castle walls bit at your skin, but it wasn’t nearly as alarming as the warmth you suddenly felt—someone approaching from behind.

“Hi.”

His voice slid into your awareness before you even heard the sound of his footsteps, sending your heart skittering like a startled bird. Turning your head slightly, you caught sight of him—dark curls falling into his eyes, his signature Slytherin tie loosened at his throat, and that grin. The grin that made your chest feel too tight and your thoughts scatter like spilled ink.

Your first instinct, as always, was to flee.

Before he could say more, you ducked your head and pivoted on your heel, muttering something about being late to the library. 

“Oh, no, you don’t.” His hand was warm and firm around your wrist, stopping you mid-flight. He turned you gently to face him, his dark eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your cheeks burn. “Would you please stop running away from me? It’s worrying me, you know. The way you look like you’ve seen a ghost every time I’m around.”

You didn’t dare meet his eyes. Not yet. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the traitorous flush that gave away just how much he affected you. “I’m not running,” you mumbled, though the evidence was damning.

“Oh, come on.” He laughed, soft and incredulous. “You bolt every time I so much as look at you. Do you have any idea how hard it is to catch up with you? You’re like—like a mouse slipping through cracks.”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out at first. He tilted his head, the faintest frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t bite, you know. Not unless you ask.” 

His teasing tone made your stomach flip. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, dropping your gaze to the floor.

“Don’t be,” he said softly, his grip on your wrist loosening but not letting go entirely. “I just—look, you know I’m not going to hurt you, right?”

“I-I know,” you stammered, and it was true. He wasn’t threatening to you, not even close. But that didn’t make the rapid thudding of your heart any less overwhelming. 

His brow furrowed slightly. “Then what is it?” His voice dropped, quieter now, as if he was trying not to spook you. “Am I too much? Too… loud? Intense? I can tone it down if that’s what you need.”

The earnestness in his voice nearly unraveled you. You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault—that it was you, and your inability to handle the way he seemed to draw everyone’s attention with effortless charm. The way he smiled like he knew every secret in the world. The way his presence made you feel like you were standing too close to the sun.

“I—” You bit your lip, scrambling for an excuse, any excuse, but your brain seemed to be short-circuiting under his gaze. “I’m just...not used to people like you.”

“People like me?” His eyebrows lifted, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a half-smile. “What does that mean?”

“You know.” You waved your free hand vaguely, avoiding his eyes again. “Confident. Charming.”

“Ah.” He let out a low chuckle, the sound warm and rich, wrapping around you like a blanket. “So, what? You’re allergic to confidence?”

“No! I just—” You huffed, flustered, and Mattheo’s grin widened.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?” he said, and your stomach flipped violently.

“I am not,” you mumbled, heat rising to your cheeks.

“You are,” he insisted, his tone teasing but gentle. “And I’m not saying that to make you run away again, by the way. I’d really prefer it if you didn’t.”

You glanced up at him then, your heart doing somersaults at the soft, hopeful look in his eyes. And for a moment, you thought maybe you could do this—stay, talk to him, let yourself believe that someone like Mattheo Riddle could actually like someone like you.

But instead, you mumbled something incoherent and, in a sudden burst of courage—or cowardice—twisted out of his grasp and darted down the hallway.

“Wait—! Oh, come on! Slow down!” His exasperated laugh echoed behind you, followed by his voice, playful but resigned. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

Oh, but you weren’t getting away that easily.  

Because by some twist of fate—or Mattheo’s uncanny ability to be everywhere you didn’t want him to be—you found yourself crossing paths with him again that very afternoon. And this time, there was no escaping.  

The hospital wing was quiet, the kind of quiet that wrapped itself around you like a blanket, broken only by the soft clink of glass vials as you worked. You were perched at Madame Pomfrey’s desk, carefully restocking rows of remedies, when the heavy wooden door creaked open.  

You didn’t look up at first, assuming it was Madame Pomfrey returning from her rounds. But then you heard the familiar drawl.  

“Madame Pomfrey, I—oh.”  

Your hand froze mid-reach for a jar of bruise balm. Your stomach plummeted. You knew that voice.  

You froze, your hand stilling mid-reach for a jar of essence of murtlap. Slowly, as though moving too quickly might summon some greater disaster, you turned your head toward the door.

There he was.

Mattheo Riddle, leaning casually against the doorframe, one arm tucked against his side, the other pressed lightly to his jaw where a streak of blood stood out against his pale skin. His shirt was untucked, his tie gone, and his dark curls were just messy enough to make him look infuriatingly perfect.  

Your heart started to pound, the air in your lungs thinning to a whisper. “You,” you said before you could stop yourself, the word barely louder than a squeak.  

Mattheo grinned, even as he winced slightly, straightening from the doorframe. “Me,” he echoed.

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the desk as if it might keep you grounded. “What... what happened?”  

“I fell,” he said simply, though the smirk on his lips made it impossible to believe him.

“You fell,” you repeated flatly, crossing your arms.

He nodded solemnly, though there was nothing solemn about the way his eyes flicked over you, taking in the rolled-up sleeves of your uniform and the faint smudge of ink on your wrist from earlier. “Tragic, I know. But lucky me—I’ve landed in the most capable hands.”

Your cheeks burned, and you immediately dropped your gaze, fussing with the nearest jar of ointment to avoid his eyes. “Madame Pomfrey isn’t here,” you mumbled. “I’m just helping... for now.”  

“Oh, I don’t mind,” he said, moving toward one of the hospital beds. “I think I like the idea of you taking care of me.”  

Your fingers fumbled, nearly knocking over a bottle of murtlap essence. “Sit,” you said quickly, pointing to the bed without looking at him. “You need to sit so I can... um... look at that.”  

He chuckled softly but complied, settling onto the edge of the bed. “As you wish.”  

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you grabbed a cloth and some antiseptic. But when you turned back, he wasn’t sitting anymore. He was standing again, closer now—too close, that lazy grin still firmly in place.

Your breath caught. “You—what are you doing?”  

“Stretching my legs,” he said easily, his voice low and warm.  

“You’re supposed to be resting,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to sound firm. “You’re injured—”  

“It’s nothing,” he said, his grin widening as he leaned against the desk, his dark eyes fixed on you. “I’m not that fragile, you know.”  

“But—”  

“Do I make you nervous?” he interrupted, tilting his head slightly, his curls falling into his eyes.  

You immediately shook your head, even though you could feel the heat crawling up your neck. “N-no. I mean—why would you think that?”  

“Because you’re practically shaking,” he said, his tone softer now, though no less teasing. “And because you keep looking anywhere but at me.”  

Your eyes flicked up to his for a fraction of a second before dropping back down to the floor. “I’m not... I mean, I just—”  

“You’re adorable,” he said, and the warmth in his voice made your pulse race.  

You froze, your fingers tightening on the cloth in your hands. “I should clean your cut,” you mumbled, stepping back toward him.  

But before you could reach him, he moved again, his hands finding the edge of the table on either side of you, caging you in.  

“Mattheo—”  

“I’m not going anywhere this time,” he said softly, his voice barely more than a murmur. His dark eyes held yours, the intensity in them stealing the words right out of your throat. “So stop running.”  

His face was so close now, the warmth of his breath ghosting across your cheek, making your skin tingle. You could see the individual lashes framing those mesmerizing eyes, the slight curve of his lips, the way his teeth nipped gently at his lower lip...

"Come on," you muttered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. You lifted the antiseptic in your hand. "Just... please let me help you."

It sounded weak, pathetic even, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

For a long moment, he simply looked at you, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he stepped back, giving you space to breathe again.

"You're right," he said, his voice a little rougher than usual. "Thank you."

He sat back down on the bed, his posture a bit less casual now, more tense. He looked up at you through his lashes, his gaze softer than before.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I just..." He paused, seeming to struggle for the right words. "I like you, Y/N. A lot. And sometimes I forget myself around you."

You blinked rapidly, processing his words. "You... really?" you asked softly, hardly daring to believe it. Slowly, hesitantly, you took a step closer, drawn to him despite your nerves.

"Yes, really," he confirmed, his voice low and sincere. As you drew near, he reached out, his large hands coming to rest on your hips. In one smooth motion, he pulled you down onto his lap, his strong arms wrapping around your waist to steady you.

You gasped, your hands flying up to press against his chest. You could feel the firm muscles beneath his shirt, the rapid thud of his heartbeat. Your own heart raced in response, your cheeks flaming with heat.

He smiled softly, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your hip bones as he held you close. "There," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Isn't this better?"

You squirmed slightly in his lap, hyper-aware of every point where your bodies touched. "I... I don't know if this is a good idea," you whispered, even as your traitorous body melted into his embrace. Your hands slid up his chest to loop around his neck, fingers tangling in the soft curls at his nape.

He chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating through you. "Why not? We're alone, aren't we?" His hands slid up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts through your blouse. "No one has to know..."

He leaned in, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat. "Let me take care of you," he breathed against your skin, his other hand sliding down to palm your ass. "I promise I'll make it feel good."

You whimpered softly as his lips and tongue worked magic on your sensitive skin, your head lolling back to give him better access. But as he kissed lower, you suddenly felt something wet and sticky on your throat–his cut.

"Wait," you gasped, pulling back slightly. You brought a hand up to your neck, your fingers coming away streaked with blood. "You're still bleeding, Mattheo. We should clean that first before... before anything else happens."

He paused, looking up at you with lust-darkened eyes. A slow, amused grin spread across his face. "You think I give a fuck about that right now?" he muttered, pulling you flush against him again. "Don't worry about that."

His hand fisted in your hair, tugging your head back as he attacked your throat with renewed fervor, licking and sucking at the bloodied skin. 

"M-Mattheo," you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders. "We shouldn't... not here..."

Even as you protested weakly, your hips started to move of their own accord, grinding down against the growing hardness you could feel pressing against your thighs. The friction sent sparks of pleasure shooting through you, making your head spin.

He groaned into your neck, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and into yours. His hands tightened on your hips, encouraging your movements as he rocked up against you.

"Oh, fuck. You're not as innocent as you pretend to be, huh?" he noted, his voice rough with desire.

In one fluid motion, he lifted you off his lap, rising from the bed as you stumbled back. His hands roamed possessively, sliding from your waist to the curve of your lower back before trailing up to cup the soft swell of your tits. His touch was rough and insistent, squeezing and kneading as if he couldn't get enough of you. 

Before you could catch your breath, he turned you around, his firm grip guiding you into place. His hand pressed against the small of your back, a silent command that sent heat pooling in your belly as you bent forward, your chest and palms flattening against the bed.

You felt the air shift around you, cool and heady against your heated skin, as Mattheo's fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt. He dragged it up slowly, deliberately, his movements measured, as though savoring every inch of you revealed to him.  

"Running from me, again and again," he muttered, his voice dark and edged with amusement. "And now look at you. Right where I’ve always wanted you."  

Your breath caught, shame and desire tangling in your chest. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond—not when his hands curled under the waistband of your panties, dragging them down the curve of your thighs in one slow, tantalizing motion.  

"Mattheo," you whispered, your voice trembling, barely audible above the pounding of your own heart.  

His low laugh sent shivers through you. "Finally saying my name. Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear that? And not just in your shy little apologies."  

Your knees nearly buckled as his fingers teased the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, tracing lazy circles closer and closer to where you ached for him. He let the silence hang, heavy and charged, before looping his arm around your front. 

"Cute,” he murmured. "You’ve spent weeks avoiding me, playing coy. But I think you’ve wanted this just as much as I have. Haven’t you?"  

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think—only gasp as his fingers found your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that sent sparks skittering up your spine.  

"Answer me," he demanded, his tone soft but unyielding. "I want to hear you say it."  

Your nails dug into the bedspread, and you shook your head, overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch. "I-I don’t…"  

"Don’t what?" His fingers curled around the back of your neck, squeezing lightly. "Don’t want me? Don’t need this? Say it, sweetheart, because your body’s telling me a very different story."  

You whimpered, the heat pooling between your thighs making it impossible to deny him—or yourself. "I…I want you," you finally choked out, your voice so quiet you weren’t sure he’d heard.  

But he did.  

"Good girl," he praised, the words dripping with satisfaction. His movements quickened, drawing tight, delicious circles that had your legs trembling. "See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? All you had to do was stop running."  

A soft gasp escaped your lips as his hand slid down from your neck, tracing the curve of your hip before gripping your ass firmly. His other hand left your front, joining its twin to knead and grope the plush flesh, his thumbs digging in with a possessive hunger that made heat bloom low in your belly again.  

“You’re perfect here,” he mused, his voice a deep hum as he spread your cheeks apart, his touch maddeningly deliberate. “Bent over for me like this. Made for me, aren’t you?”  

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the whimper that threatened to escape, but Mattheo didn’t miss it. He laughed softly, the sound dripping with smug satisfaction.  

“Don’t hold back now,” he coaxed, his hands trailing up and down the back of your thighs, lingering just long enough to tease but not satisfy. “I want to hear every little sound you make for me.”  

You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could form a word, his palm landed on your ass with a sharp smack—not hard enough to hurt too much, but enough to send a jolt of heat straight through you.  

“Mattheo!”  

“There it is,” he purred, his hands smoothing over the spot he’d just struck, his touch soothing and warm. “You sound so fucking sweet when you say my name like that.”  

Before you could respond, you felt the hard press of his length against you, separated only by the fabric of his trousers. He rolled his hips, letting you feel the full weight of him, and your knees buckled slightly at the realization of just how much he wanted you.  

“You feel that?” he murmured, his lips brushing the back of your neck as he reached down to unbuckle his belt. The soft clink of metal was almost drowned out by the pounding of your heart. “That’s what you do to me. Every time you run, every time you look at me with those shy little glances—you drive me fucking insane.”  

The ruffling of fabric being lowered was too hard to ignore, and you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing back over your shoulder. The sight of him—breathing heavily, his cock thick and hard, standing proudly against the taut muscles of his stomach—sent a wave of heat washing over you.  

“Eyes front,” he ordered, his voice rough with arousal. When you didn’t obey fast enough, his hand came down on your ass again, the sharp sting making you gasp. “Now.”  

You did as he said, pressing your forehead into the bedspread as his hands roamed over you again, his touch both reverent and demanding. One hand slipped between your thighs, spreading you open, while the other gripped your hip, holding you steady.  

“God, you’re so wet for me,” he groaned, his fingers sliding through your slick folds. He teased your entrance with the tip of one finger before pushing inside, curling it just enough to make you arch back against him.  

“You like that?” he asked, his voice laced with a dark kind of affection as he added another finger, stretching you slowly. “I can feel how tight you are. So perfect. So ready for me.”  

Your answer was a broken moan, your body moving instinctively against his hand.  

“Shit,” he breathed, pulling his fingers out only to replace them with the blunt head of his cock, teasing your entrance with maddening slowness. “You’re gonna ruin me, you know that?”  

The stretch of him entering you was almost too much, but the way he worked you—inch by agonizing inch, his hands gripping your hips to keep you still—sent a wave of pleasure through you that made your toes curl.  

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice a husky growl as he bottomed out, filling you completely. He stayed there for a moment, his breathing ragged, his hands running over the curve of your back and the swell of your ass. “You feel so fucking good, baby. So tight, so perfect. Tell me how it feels.”  

“Good,” you managed, your voice barely more than a whisper. “So good.”  

“Yeah?” He pulled back slowly, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you before snapping his hips forward again with a deep thrust, filling you completely. You gasped, your body jerking forward at the force, but he didn’t give you a moment to adjust. He set a slow, measured pace, his thrusts deep but deliberate, pulling out and pushing back into you with an almost agonizing slowness that made your heart race. “You like it when I fill you up like this? When I make you mine?”  

Your only response was a strangled moan, your fingers clutching the sheets as he sped up his rhythm, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.  

His hand left your hip, sliding down to your front to brush your clit with just the right amount of pressure. "God, you’re perfect," he muttered, his voice rough as he continued to slide in and out of you, each stroke a slow burn. "I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone like I want you right now."

The pressure inside you was building, slow and steady, like the tightening of a coil. You could feel every inch of him, each thrust dragging out the pleasure until it was almost unbearable. You clenched around him, urging him deeper, and he groaned in response, his grip tightening on your hips as he pushed you harder into the bed.

“You’re fucking incredible,” he breathed, his voice rough and full of need. His thrusts picked up, faster now, more urgent, but still controlled, as if he wanted to drag this out as long as possible. “You feel so fucking good, so warm and tight around me. Don’t hold back. I want to hear you.”

Your hands gripped the sheets, nails digging into the fabric as the pleasure mounted. He hit that sweet spot inside you with every thrust, driving you mad with the sensation, and you couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped your lips.

“Please…” you gasped, not sure if you were begging for more or for him to take you faster. It didn’t matter. You just needed him. 

Mattheo smirked, his fingers still pressing against your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "You want it faster? You want me to make you come on my cock?"  

You nodded, desperate for more. “Yes, please…”

“That’s what I thought,” he rasped, his thrusts quickening as he slammed into you with abandon. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with the low groans escaping both of you.  

With one final, devastating thrust, you shattered, your release crashing over you like a tidal wave. Mattheo wasn’t far behind, his rhythm growing erratic as he buried himself deep inside you, groaning your name as he followed you over the edge.  

For a moment, the world was nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths and the heat of his body against yours. Then, slowly, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.  

“You’re not running from me again,” he murmured, his voice a quiet promise. “Not now. Not ever.” 

ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind @revesephemeres @esmerai-artemis @clar2aa @enchantingpatrolharmony @iamaconfusedpan

(comment or dm to be added to the taglist)

every time i see you posted, i have to wait to sit and read because i can’t let anyone see my reaction reading your masterpieces (i don’t act like a proper lady), and you fucking ate every time. i swear that if you write a one-shot the size of a bible, i would read it in two minutes.

"it'll feel so good baby, trust me." he reaches his hand to your head that's turned towards him, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek as his soft brown eyes stare deeply into yours.

i would 💦 on the spot—bye (i need him so bad)

"does that feel good? hmm?" he asks, but you are so drowned in pleasure

idk mattheo, we need to try it out :(

"gonna fill you up so good, princess, make sure you're leaking my cum from every. single. hole, all day long."

OMFG, WUGAYSGSHAG BYE —

i need a cup of tea

this was AMAZING, thank YOU.

SIX. anal — mattheo riddle

warnings — smut 18+. anal sex. mentions of (unprotected) vaginal sex and creampies.

kinkmas mlist. more.

“hey, i promise i’ll go slow.” mattheo reassures you, though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself than you, because the sight in front of him—you on your knees, your ass inches away from his erection, and your pussy dripping with his cum from the round prior—makes him lose all his self-control.

“it’ll feel so good baby, trust me.” he reaches his hand to your head that’s turned towards him, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek as his soft brown eyes stare deeply into yours. your own hazy eyes look back at him, your hair tousled and your legs trembling from mattheo fucking your cunt until it’s sore and leaking his cum— but still, he isn’t done yet.

you aren’t new to anal play at all, though. mattheo occasionally buys you all kinds of cute butt plugs, expanding your already extensive collection, slowly pushing them into you while he’s fucking you. and god, it always felt incredible. so you are more than thrilled to try anal sex, although logically, you still feel a small twinge of nervousness.

“i know it will matt, and i’m ready. please, fuck me.” mattheo groans at your eager words while gazing down at you impatiently wiggling your ass in front of him, a smirk spreading on his face and his lust filled eyes darkening. his hand instantly flies to the bottle of lube on the nightstand, clumsily knocking everything else over, making you shake your head in amused disbelief.

“fuuuuck.” he drawls in a raspy tone while eagerly spreading your cheeks, his pupils dilating at the sight. you shiver when the cold lube makes contact with your skin, as mattheo spreads a generous amount of both lube and his sperm—gathered from your dripping cunt—all over your tight hole, preparing you for his cock.

you then feel his erection nudge at your entrance, causing your muscles to instinctively tense up at the new, intimidating feeling. mattheo notices immediately and gently runs his soft fingers over your bare back, his feathery touch making you let out a deep breath as your body begins to relax.

with both hands on your hips, he slowly pushes into you, entering you inch by inch, your tight hole wrapping tightly around him. your nails instinctively rake along the delicate fabric of the satin sheets, desperately tugging at them at this new, overwhelming sensation you are experiencing.

you immediately notice how different it feels from vaginal sex— yet so heavenly. an undeniable, sharp pain at the stretch courses through your body, but the pleasure quickly overshadows that, prompting you push your ass back against him, craving more until he’s completely inside of you, so incredibly deep.

“holy fucking shit. look at you baby, takin’ all of me like a good girl. and so… fucking… tight.” mattheo growls, as clouded by sheer ecstasy as you are, his hands gripping your hips in a way that will undoubtedly leave bruises on your skin, before carefully thrusting into you. with each deep thrust, more cum drips out of your pussy, making a mess all over your trembling thighs and the bedsheets.

“does that feel good? hmm?” he asks, but you are so drowned in pleasure, you can’t even seem to form a coherent sentence, humming into the plush pillow with your eyes squeezed shut. noticing that you’re enjoying it, mattheo quickens his pace, his balls lightly smacking against your dripping cunt and clit with each thrust, only intensifying the immense pleasure coursing through your body.

“that’s it, baby. good girl.” mattheo praises, his hand firmly pushing your head deeper into the pillow, while his other hand occasionally slaps your ass, your loud, high-pitched moans muffled by the soft fabric. your back arches as every thrust hits parts so deep inside of you, causing your cunt to clench around nothing as his balls continue to roughly slap against it, his hips snapping harshly against yours.

“gonna fill you up so good, princess, make sure you’re leaking my cum from every. single. hole, all day long.”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

𐙚 ˙ ⋆.˚ BOYS OF TOMMEN MASTERLIST

➳ navigation. main masterlist.

➳ GERARD GIBSON;

[…]

➳ PATRICK FEELY;

[…]

➳ JOHNNY KAVANAGH;

[…]

➳ JOEY LYNCH;

[…]

➳ AOIFE MOLLOY;

[…]

➳ HUGHIE BIGGS;

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© gibsluv 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎, 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕, 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚢

i'm here - joey lynch x reader

pairing: joey lynch x fem!reader

warnings: flufffffff, swearing + a lil angst

a/n: BELLE BELLE BELLE DO YOU SEE ME?? IM WRITING JOEY LYNCH FICS FOR YOU!! LOVE YOU POOKIE <33 (i've kept this surprisingly spoiler free as well!!) also pls ignore my delusional ass over here writing fics late at night-

joey lynch is a protector.

its his way of being. he's been that way all his life. constantly looking after his siblings when their parents couldn't.

so you take it upon yourself to be joey's protector - much to his disgruntlement.

so when you find the space next to you on your bed empty and cold. you know he's having nightmares again.

fighting with your very sleepy brain - which should shut up by the way - you roll out of bed, wrap a discarded blanket from your shrek movie marathon earlier and go in search for joey.

the nightmares aren't a regular thing - not anymore at least, that you are very grateful for - but when they do plague joey he falls into the downward spiral of think he's not good enough for you. which of course is absolute nonsense.

pulling the blanket tighter around you, you slip out through the balcony door and out into the crisp night where a shirtless and haunted looking joe sits with his head in his hands on a half broken chair - curtsey of the hotel you were staying in.

"hey you," you say softly approaching him. you're eyes definitely don't stray down to his bare chest... not at allllll.

joey's head snaps up, noticing you for the first time. "hey, what are you doing out here? go back to bed baby."

shaking your head you determinedly open the blanket and wrap it around him wincing at the coldness of his skin. how long has he been out here?

"nahh, if you're out here so am i."

joey already knowing that there is no point in arguing with you, stands up and picks you up bridal style, blanket and all bringing you back inside and gently places you back on your bed before closing the door again.

he busies himself fixing the duvet cover and pillows on the bed ignoring the knowing looks you're sending him.

"joe."

he looks at you. "y/n."

"do you want to talk about it?"

"no."

"joe."

he's quiet for a bit probably contemplating what he should tell you.

"it was the same one." his voice is quiet, soft. you know joey doesn't like talking about these dreams so you don't push it. "but different this time." he takes a deep breath and looks at you with resigned eyes. "i lost you. cause of the... cause of the...."

"i know," you whisper. unwrapping yourself from the blanket, rounding the bed and coming to stand in front of the broken boy in front of you.

"but hey," your eyes fill with tears as you look at the defeated look in his eyes. he really believes that it could be true. he really believes that you would- could leave him. "i'm here. and i'm not going anywhere. joe- joe look at me." when he refuses you step closer between his legs and cup his face. "joseph lynch, you look at me."

joey's pained eyes meet yours and your heart breaks for him. for the amount of shit he's been through. for all the years he had no one to turn to. now he has you, and you have every intention of making sure that joey lynch is fucking loved and cared for.

"i love you. and it would take a very very very big group of people to take me away from you- even then don't get your hopes up because believe it or not joey there is something in my soul that is connected to yours and in every life time, every life time i will find you." you press a soft kiss to his forehead. "so don't even think for one second that i'm going to leave you. you're my joey. and i don't plan on giving you up. so im sorry but you're kinda stuck with me."

joey's eyes shine with barely restrained love as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in, squeezing your waist tightly.

"i love you baby," he whispers against your midriff. "so much."

running your hands through his blonde hair you press a kiss to his head, "love you too baby."

you stay that way for a while, joey wrapped tightly around you and you pressing soft kisses to his head until joey leans back taking you with him.

"joey!" you laugh toppling over on top of him.

"yes?" he hums as he adjusts you both so you're facing each other with your legs intertwined.

"nothing," you smile and press a kiss to the tip of his nose, his green eyes shining beautifully in the moonlight.

joey grins and pulls you closer by the waist pressing a soft, yearning kiss to your lips.

you both fall asleep to your hushed whispers in the dark, promises and loving kisses.

"love you baby..."

[taglist] @lxvebelle

a/n pt2: THE WAY I NEED ME SOME JOEY LYNCH IS UNFORGIVABLE sleep delusion reaaaally got to me at the end there- hope you liked it babes <33

i know i’m biased when it comes to this au (aka my favorite ever), but this was so fucking amazing i’m gagged (in a good way). like always, how can you be so good at everything? 😡

"hey, you gotta sit still f'me or you won't survive this, a'ight?" the masked man holding a gun in front of you hisses through his teeth, his deep, intense voice muffled as he spreads your legs.

this has barely begun and i’m already crying on the floor. the imagery is so real, plus i would be like a dog in heat if he said this to me (even more with a gun in his hand) 👩‍🦯

"not that i care."

i’m sorry but i actually love mean mattheo 😔

under the mask

he’s wearing a mask??????? bye %#*%#^ and *%$@

he then unexpectedly pushes the gun into your soaked hole, the action anything but gentle-

one more time—the imaginary is amazing

i really want to talk about this, because it’s so real. i love that he’s everything but gentle during sex, plus THE GUN. i would 💦💦💦💦 so fast, he would hit me (amen)

"poor thing, your heart is beating so fast... don't worry. i'll be careful, princess."

"but uh, i just can't control these shaky hands sometimes... what a shame it would be if my finger slipped and accidentally pulled the trigger."

son. of. a. bitch. idk if i want to fuck him or kill him—maybe BOTH.

also i’m curious to know what would happen—so i might let him 🦭 ari you’re the best when it comes to dialogue during sex

before you can protest, he roughly drags the gun nearly out of your cunt,

"ah ah ah; be a good girl f'me and keep those pretty legs spread, yeah?" he orders, shaking his masked head in disapproval as his hand increases its pace.

for a moment, i was sad, but then the sadness ran away from my body and boom, i was back to being a bitch in heat—still can’t get over that he’s wearing a mask—my legs don’t approve of this, but you know what else does 🤲🏻

anyways, final review: 5 ⭐️ like always, because i genuinely can’t point out anything bad. i was hooked from the beginning until the end

i’m a purge au truther 🦭

FIFTEEN. gunplay — the purge au mattheo riddle

warnings — smut 18+. dubcon. gunplay (mattheo fucks reader with his gun). mask kink. purge night. you are responsible for your own media consumption.

kinkmas mlist. moodboard. more.

“hey, you gotta sit still f’me or you won’t survive this, a’ight?” the masked man holding a gun in front of you hisses through his teeth, his deep, intense voice muffled as he spreads your legs. you’re unsure what he wants from you after breaking into your house on purge night, but you fear the worst as you tremble beneath him, gazing up at him through eyelashes with fat tears threatening to fall from your waterline.

“not that i care.” he mutters under his breath, raking the barrel over your exposed cunt, your ripped panties already tossed to the floor. you’re trembling in fear, your brows furrowed in nervousness, yet, you still can’t help but feel somewhat turned on? and he notices it too, chuckling lowly under the mask as his brown eyes are drawn to your dripping pussy.

he then unexpectedly pushes the gun into your soaked hole, the action anything but gentle— the sharp edges of the hard metal make you instinctively clench even tighter around it, as you scream out in both pain and pleasure. you don’t have to see his face to know that he’s smirking behind the mask, relishing in the fear and pain radiating off you.

his head dips closer, the heavy, muffled breaths through the mask only frightening you more.

“poor thing, your heart is beating so fast… don’t worry. i’ll be careful, princess.” you feel a sense of relief at his unexpectedly caring words, spoken in such a soothing manner— but that false sense of relief doesn’t last long.

“but uh, i just can’t control these shaky hands sometimes… what a shame it would be if my finger slipped and accidentally pulled the trigger.”

your eyes widen as the masked man chuckles wickedly. you can see his erection clearly now, and it’s almost as if he’s getting harder the more fear he sees on your pretty face.

before you can protest, he roughly drags the gun nearly out of your cunt, before pushing it back inside, causing you to whimper uncomfortably at the unusual feeling. you instinctively try to close your legs, but he catches on immediately, grabbing your inner thigh and pushing it open until your muscles ache from the stretch.

“ah ah ah; be a good girl f’me and keep those pretty legs spread, yeah?” he orders, shaking his masked head in disapproval as his hand increases its pace. the gun painfully drags against your walls, but still, your wetness drips down the cold metal and all over his hands, the slick sounds of your wet pussy echoing through your ominously dark room.

“tsk… such a dirty fuckin’ slut, huh? turns out i broke into the right house tonight. and if you’re lucky, i might just return next year…”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡