#warning: filth

[cesienthusiast]

I scavenged my account and found what I believe to be my current top 5 hottest smut fics I've written. If you're interested, I hope you enjoy!

[pastafossa]

"Do I Need To Beg?" (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic) 🔥

Right so like a lot of other people, I saw that leaked trailer and had thots, mostly about Matt's new beard, and much like my thoughts on his coat, none of these thots are pure. This is pure fucking sin, in other words, one of the filthier things I've written, so scroll past if that's not your thing. Also thank you to my friends over in the Murdock's Tuna Team server, ya'll are the best fucking enablers ever.

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Chapter Summary:

“Welcome home, Mrs. Murdock,” he purred darkly, lazily dragging his tongue across his lips in a way that told you, quite clearly, what he was imagining. “If you need to shower or drink a glass of water, do it now. Because the second you enter this bedroom, you’re mine for the rest of the night. And I have no intention of letting you go until I’ve had my fill.”

Wordcount: 4.1k words

Warnings for this chapter, let's do this: oral f!receiving and a LOT of it like this is literally just a love letter to bearded Matt eating you out (Matt retains his 😺eating crown), brief oral m!receiving, Dom!Matt, Sub!Reader, bondage, overstimulation, subspace, dirty talk, PiV towards the end, Matt's new fucking BEARD none of us are ok

Matt with an oral fixation incoming, here have this:

Your trip out of town had lasted longer than you’d initially expected. 

Initially you'd only planned to be gone for ten days, but ten had abruptly been extended to an irritating fourteen with little notice. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything you could do about it, though Matt had reassured you over the phone that it was fine. While he missed you dearly and would have vastly preferred you back home and in his arms, he understood that things were out of your control. However, he did have one more thing to say before you’d both given your goodbyes, something that wound up eating at you for the rest of your trip in all the best ways. 

“Besides,” he’d murmured. “It’ll give me a little more time to work on my surprise for you.” 

What that surprise was had been a mystery, one he’d smugly refused to reveal no matter how much you’d tried to pry it out of him over the ensuing phone calls. It couldn’t have been a gift for your next wedding anniversary, which was still a few months away. Nor was it your birthday, or Valentine’s Day. As best you could guess, this was just one of those moments when Matt decided to give you something, just because he could, just because he wanted to, no prompting needed. That wasn’t an uncommon occurrence with him, one more thread in the tapestry made from all the many reasons you loved him. 

However, on the list of things you’d expected to find when you finally made it home, you hadn’t thought to include Matt standing shirtless in the bedroom doorway, his sweats slung low on his hips, his hair still damp from his shower. One corner of his mouth curled up into a wicked smirk, and oh, he knew. He knew, or he’d at least suspected what your response would be to his surprise, and you drew in a sharp intake of breath.

He’d grown a beard. 

You raked your gaze over it, taking in the way it seemed to change the angles of his jaw and his face, somehow adding a dangerous edge to his smile. What was more, there were little patches of grey scattered amidst the dark of it. You had no idea why, but something about those threads of silver only added to the building heat between your thighs, a fire that had started the second you’d seen him standing casually in the doorway, his beautiful body on open display just for you. 

How would it feel to touch him, cradle his jaw in your hands now? 

How would it feel when he pressed his lips to yours, to your throat?

And how would it feel as he made his way down, down, down, the rough scrape of his beard lighting you up as he drifted towards one of his favorite places on your body? 

Your shiver drew a rumble of satisfaction from him. He slowly rolled his head back, inhaling deeply, clearly savoring the scent of your arousal. 

“Welcome home, Mrs. Murdock,” he purred darkly, lazily dragging his tongue across his lips in a way that told you, quite clearly, what he was imagining. “If you need to shower or drink a glass of water, do it now. Because the second you enter this bedroom, you’re mine for the rest of the night. And I have no intention of letting you go until I’ve had my fill.”

You were pretty sure you’d never downed a glass of water and gotten into the shower so quick in your life.

Matt kept his promise. The second you stepped out of the bathroom, he was on you, his beard a deliciously unfamiliar sensation as he caught your face between his hands and pressed his mouth hungrily to yours. That wild kiss didn’t stop at just one, your lips separating only to meet again a half-breath later, over and over again. The two of you only grew more frantic with every second that passed, hips beginning to rock, bodies swaying towards each other, until you were both left gasping, frantic and breathless, hands groping desperately across whatever bared skin either of you could reach. 

“Bed.” The word was a low growl against your lips, his hand wound loosely around your throat, one thumb up under the hinge of your jaw to force your head back for him. One of your hands, meanwhile, had slipped back and down beneath the hem of his sweats, blatantly groping at the thick curve of his ass. He let out a rough groan that you eagerly swallowed down, the skin around your mouth already burning from the rasp of his beard where it had rubbed against you. “Fuck—Bed. Now.” 

He wasn’t going to get an argument from you. 

It was a short, stumbling walk from there to the bedroom. Neither of you bothered to keep your hands off each other, your fingers fisting in his damp hair as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses to that special spot under your jaw that made your legs shake, Matt seemingly eager to drink the remaining droplets of water from your skin. You should have guessed his plans when you noticed the towel on the bed. But it was hard to focus with the tantalizing burn of his new beard dragging across the delicate skin of your throat, and with the taste and scent and touch of him filling your senses after a long two weeks apart. It felt like there was nothing in the world but him, nothing but the scent of cinnamon and copper and salt, the warmth of it so rich you couldn’t help but gasp with it as he herded you backwards until at last, you both found the bed. 

The world lurched, and just like that you were pinned beneath him, the broad, heavy weight of him easily trapping you against the mattress, not that you minded. Your ragged moan of his name seemed to hang in the air, your fingers still tangled in his hair. God, your cunt was practically dripping already as you lifted your hips, trying to rock up against him in invitation. You'd been thinking of this the entire time you'd showered. He had to have sensed it. “Matt, sweetheart, please.” “I’ve been thinking about this since you left,” he purred in your ear, his breath a rush of burning embers before he started down your body. The moment he reached your bare breasts, he pressed his face between them, the rasp of his beard making you shiver. He inhaled deeply, dragging your scent deep into his lungs. That inhale led to a hitched, delighted moan, his hips rocking down against the mattress. Without warning, he turned his head and eagerly drew one of your nipples into his mouth. The greedy suction of his mouth when paired with the bristling scratch of his facial hair made you whine, writhing as best you could where you were trapped beneath the heavy weight of muscle and bone. But despite the way you offered up your chest in invitation, he had other plans, quickly releasing your breast to slide further down your body. His voice dropped into something low and sinful, then, soft as silk against your skin. “And I’ve missed this sweet pussy of yours, sweetheart.” He placed a tender, innocent kiss against your hip, the gentle nature of it at direct odds with the obscenity of his words. It was a combination that left you burning up, your breath hitching as he pointedly lifted one of your legs to drape it easily over his shoulder. He directed his blank gaze back up towards your own, his lips curling up into a feral grin. “So I’m going to see how many times I can make you come with my mouth tonight. And I’m not stopping until you’ve soaked everything underneath you.” 

Oh god—

Your eager moan and the fresh flood of arousal between your legs was the only answer he needed. He let out a quiet hiss before diving in, his tongue burying itself between your folds for one heavy lap up your cunt, the first taste of you he’d had in weeks. And with a rough moan that matched yours in volume, he threw one arm over your hips, and settled in.

And there he stayed, his face buried between your thighs, for hours. 

You lost track of your orgasms after you came for the third time, three of his fingers hilted deep inside you, his tongue lapping firmly, determinedly at your clit. It had been impossible to resist between that and the rhythmic,  rough scrape of his beard against the inside of your thighs—a sweet-edged pain you were quickly growing addicted to. You came so hard you saw spots at the edge of your vision, came so hard you left a puddle on the towel beneath you, your startled cry loud enough to wake the neighbors. Your brain didn’t even know what to do with that kind of pleasure, your thighs snapping shut around his head, your whole body writhing as the pleasure washed over you in uneven waves.

But Matt didn’t so much as slow. If anything, he simply opened his mouth wider, drank from you even faster, swallowing down that flood as if you were the sweetest of wines. The moment he tasted your orgasm, one that drenched his beard and mouth, his eyes snapped shut, his hips bucking against the mattress. A wild, shaky moan tore from his throat as he came with you, soaking his sweats, the rhythm of his mouth growing clumsy and uneven.

Yet still, he didn’t stop, despite the fact you'd both come. All it took was a few breaths before he was back at it. He seemed almost mindless now, focused only on taking, greedy and insatiable as he forced your body and his to start the climb yet again.

You lost control over your body not long after, your reactions instinctive and uncoordinated. Somehow you found your hands back in his hair, soft, sweat-soaked strands sliding through your fingers. You weren’t sure what you meant to do then, whether you wanted to push him away from your overstimulated body or pull him in even closer, ride his face the way you wanted. Either way, he wound up deciding for you. 

“Seems to me like someone can’t control herself.” He braced one hand firmly against your abdomen, and though he couldn’t see you, you still felt pinned by his gaze and the almost drunken little quirk of his lips. Even in the low light, you could see how his beard and mouth glistened, slick with the taste of you. “Do you need the rope, sweetheart? Do you want me to help you?” 

There wasn’t a chance in the world of you remaining still without that rope, not if he intended to keep going. And you both knew it. 

“Yes, please,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering closed as he clumsily rose from his place between your legs. Despite the lingering oversensitivity in your body, the sudden absence of his mouth still made you whimper. You just—you needed more, the promise of it keeping the tide of your arousal from fully easing.  

“What a good girl, admitting you need help,” he crooned, crawling up the bed far enough to reach the nightstand, pausing only to brush his lips against yours, the scent of your sex clinging heavily to his beard and mouth. He opened the drawer and dug around for a moment, until he finally drew free a length of red silk rope, testing it out in his hand. Once he was satisfied, he began to loop the rope around your wrists. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure you can’t move. Because I meant what I said. I’m not letting you up until I’m finished with you, and I’m nowhere near done, sweetheart.” 

The moment your wrists were properly tied, he placed his knees on either side of you, rising up to hook the length of rope to the hook set into the wall. But that put something else within reach of your mouth, and all the grinding he’d done against the bed had managed to drag his soaked sweats down just far enough to expose his cock. He was already half-hard again, the head slick and dripping, flushed dark and tempting. 

In that moment, you needed to taste it. 

The noise he made as you darted your head forward and took the tip of him into your mouth was inhuman, one part choked gasp and one part snarl. You suckled at the broad head eagerly, rapid little licks of your tongue against his slit to draw out more of the precum leaking steadily into your mouth, trying to get as much as you could before he could stop you. He wound up hunched over the top of you, one hand braced against the wall, the other fisted in your hair to hold you against him. And the harder you sucked, the more his rough growls and snarls shifted into high moans and soft little whines, his hips bucking instinctively, helplessly forward, pressing his cock deeper into the warm, welcoming wet heat of your mouth. Even those powerful thighs of his started to shake.

If you did this right, he’d come in no time at all. 

But it was the creak of the ropes as you instinctively reached for him that seemed to snap him out of it. 

Just like that, your head was wrenched back by his hand in your hair, his cock sliding free from your lips with a wet pop, saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth, and down onto your chest as you stared blearily up at him. Chest heaving, dark eyes burning, he slowly leaned down until his lips hovered mere millimeters from yours. But even though his lips hadn’t made contact, his beard did, the faintest brush of bristling hairs tickling against your overheated skin until you couldn’t help but moan. 

“And this,” he grit out, “is why you’re being tied: because you can’t keep your hands or your mouth to yourself.”  

“I’m sorry,” you whined, trying to nuzzle at him in apology. He dodged your mouth, his hand tightening in your hair in warning. This time, at least, you listened, rolling your head back into his touch, trying to make up for what you’d done, submit like he wanted. “I’m sorry, Matt. I just wanted a taste, I needed you so bad.” 

“If you’d asked like a good girl, maybe I’d have given it to you. Now you’re going to have to make it up to me.” He abruptly let go of your hair, climbing back down your body, ignoring the way you thrashed and twisted. Once he was back in place, he roughly shoved your thighs apart, dropping back down between your legs like he belonged there, claiming that space for himself. “Do I need to beg?” you choked out, practically shaking when he caught the thin, delicate skin of your inner thigh between his teeth, sucking hard. He lingered there for a long moment as you moaned and yanked desperately on the ropes, but it was no use. He was in control, not you, and you knew he wouldn’t let go until he’d left his mark, claiming this part of your body that belonged to only him. But what you weren’t expecting was for him to let go… and then tip his head, sliding his cheek, and his beard along the newly sensitive skin. The burn of it sent you soaring, your cunt clenching around nothing, your back arching as you tried to offer your core up to his mouth. “I’ll beg! God, I will, Matt, just—” “I don’t need you to beg,” he growled, his lips curling until he’d bared his teeth. “I need you to scream.” 

Then his mouth latched onto your cunt again, relentless and inescapable no matter how much you writhed. It was torture, madness of the best kind, and it wasn’t long before something in your mind began to unravel, drawn right down out of your body and into his mouth to be swallowed down the Devil's greedy throat.

Things… got a little blurry after that. 

There was no tracking the time, not when one orgasm melded into the next, minutes and hours falling away beneath the merciless lap of Matt’s skilled tongue, the brutal curl of his thick fingers, the rough scrape of his beard against your thighs and cunt until everything burned with pleasure and pain that turned the edges of your vision a fractured white. There was no outside world, no thought left in your mind but his name, nothing but the mountains he dragged your increasingly exhausted body up, and the swift fall when he mercilessly shoved you over the edge, over and over and over until you were ready to lose your mind.

“Matt!” you sobbed, wrenching hard at the ropes binding your wrists. It didn’t make one bit of difference, the rope firm and unyielding where you were bound. Down between your legs, Matt slurped hungrily, drunkenly at your cunt, his face and throat drenched with your slick, a wide puddle on the towel beneath the place where his mouth connected to your body. The burn of his beard was almost unbearable now, but you didn’t know what to do about it. You weren’t even sure he could hear you at this point, his eyes glazed over and glassy, the broad laps at your slit and clit so instinctive and clumsy that you were half convinced he was lost in the same place you were, drunk off the taste of your pussy, off your repeated orgasms and pheromones that he’d been drenched in. 

Another finger joined the three he already had buried deep inside you. He’d been at this so long that your body parted for him with little issue, and god, god, you were so goddamn full, so trapped in the haze that all you could do was choke out another sob as all four of his fingertips rubbed firmly at that spot inside you. You were too tired even to close your legs around his head, but you could feel it—that final orgasm curling hot and inescapable inside you, so close now you could taste the fractured shards of it, tears streaming down your cheeks as your eyes snapped shut.  

“I think maybe you earned that taste you wanted,” he slurred, kissing lovingly at your clit like he might a lover, his lips parted just far enough to let his tongue brush against you. And god, it almost hurt, it hurt, your body so far beyond oversensitivity that even that light touch hit you like a bolt of lightning, your body jolting. “Not that you can answer me now. Or can you?”

All you could give him was a mindless whine. 

He chuckled, working his free hand down beneath himself as he lifted his hips. His mouth dropped open a moment later, face going slack against your cunt before he moaned loudly, his shoulder shifting rhythmically beneath your thigh, his eyes rolling shut. Was he—

He drew his hand up a moment later with a purr, his fingers now smeared and sticky with both your wetness and his, glistening softly in the low light. “What do you say, sweetheart? Would you like a taste? Because I would.”

You whimpered, tugging mindlessly at the ropes, and you—yes, yes, but your tongue couldn’t seem to quite form the word yes, because he still had the fingers of his other hand buried inside you, rubbing steadily at the spot that made you see stars. God, please, the mere thought of tasting your combined flavors on your tongue had you almost mad, your body a hairs-breadth away from coming. All you needed was a nudge—a brush of him at your clit, the taste of him on your tongue, and you’d tip over the edge. 

He clearly knew it, too. And you thought-you’d thought he would be offering his hand as he dipped back down to your cunt, but instead, he pulled his soaked fingers free from you with a sigh. Your cry was a broken thing, something thick with grief at feeling so empty when you were so close, more tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Shh, you’re alright, sweetheart, don't cry,” he crooned gently, hushing you as he crawled up over your body, nuzzling at your sweat-soaked skin. “Don’t worry. It’s only for a second. I won’t leave you empty. I promise. Almost done. Almost there. One more for me. You’re going to give me one more, honey.” But how, when you were so empty, when you didn’t have his mouth or his fingers, lost and—

He groaned as he began to slide his thick cock inside you. You’d been stretched so open by his fingers, by all of your orgasms over the past few hours, that he entered you with a delicious ease. The sloppy, wet squelch of his cock as he slid inside you would have made your cheeks burn if you’d had any sense left. 

“Shit,” he moaned, one hand braced beside your head, fisting in the sheets. One rock of his hips and he was buried as deep as he could reach, your cunt clenching around him as if it were trying to keep him there. You were too exhausted to lift your legs and lock them around his hips. All you could do was gasp and accept him, your eyes rolled back as you hovered on the edge. “Nn, there you go, sweetheart. There we go. Nice and-and full. Hold on just a little longer for me. Open your mouth, honey.” 

You parted your lips instantly, long past resisting, long past thinking. 

His fingers stroked gently against your tongue a moment later, allowing you to take in the combined musky taste of yourself, the bitter richness of his cock, and how it mingled and melded with the taste of his skin.

“Suck for me like a good girl,” he murmured, his other hand rising to wipe away a few of your tears. Once that was done, he settled his hand around your throat, as if he wanted to feel it when you swallowed. “Go on, sweetheart. You can have it.” 

You curled your tongue around his fingers, drawing them deep into your mouth with a grateful moan. The explosion of it across your tongue as you swallowed, the sheer obscenity of it, made you choke out a broken cry. His fingers were yanked back a moment later only to be replaced by his tongue snaking lazily into your open mouth, blatantly chasing your paired tastes with a filthy moan. All of it rolled up over you at once—his cock sliding up against that spot inside you, the whisper of pressure around your throat as his massive hand closed around it, the angle of his hips that let his body grind against your clit, the paired taste of you both filling your mouth as his tongue curled against yours, but… 

It was the harsh scrape of his beard against your skin that pushed you over the edge. 

Later, you wouldn’t remember the noise you made as you came, your body seizing as your orgasm slammed into you in one sudden rush. Your body went rigid, back bowing off the bed so sharply you felt something pop, your head thrown back as you lost yourself beneath a roaring tide of pleasure. Because this-this wasn’t something you rode, something you swam with, something that swept over you gently. This was something you survived, something you choked beneath, drowned beneath. You barely heard Matt’s shout, didn’t even notice the spreading heat as he came with you in slick pulses of warmth. You heard even less his slurred words of encouragement against your lips as your orgasm lingered in waves that just didn’t end, and you couldn't, you couldn't—

“There you go. Good girl, good girl, so good for me, let it all go sweetheart, I’ve got you, good gi—”

You weren’t quite sure where your mind went, then. But things cut out for a while.

How long you tapped out for was a mystery, the world around you faded into a soft black. All you knew was that when you finally floated back up from that quiet sea, your senses coming back to you one by one, Matt was there, your limp body cradled warmly against his chest. “Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured, the sounds distant and still a little warped as he rocked you gently. He had to have untied you at some point, you thought blearily, since he was holding you now, his back against the headboard, your head tucked down against his neck. “Come on back, honey. Time to come back for me.”

You made a soft little noise of acknowledgement in your throat, all you really felt capable of at the moment, your eyes fluttering half open.  

“Hi there, sweetheart,” he hummed, nuzzling down warmly against your hair. One of his hands swept steadily up and down your arm, sensation that helped ground you, along with the easy rhythm of his breathing as he held you, the rasp of his skin against yours. “There you are, my good girl. You did so good, honey. Now you’ve got it. Take it slow. Breathe with me."

“Mmm.”

"That works." He huffed a quiet laugh, tipping your slack head back until he could brush his lips against your forehead. Your head lolled against his shoulder, your body feeling a bit like all your bones had just up and wandered off. Maybe Matt had sucked them out of you. “I got eight out of you tonight if you can believe it. A new record.”

“It’s,” you slurred thickly, “the… beard. I love it.” 

“I figured. And now I'm definitely going to keep it.” He nuzzled at you again, lifting one of your hands so he could knead gently at your wrist where you’d been tied. You'd probably have some bruises tomorrow considering how hard you'd yanked at the ties, but you'd wear them with pride. You always did. “And now you get the full aftercare treatment. Water, a snack, maybe a massage and a lot of cuddling before you fall asleep. I almost thought about drawing you a bath, but I’m not quite sure I trust you not to accidentally slide down into the water right now, even with me holding you.”

“...Fair.” You sleepily mashed your face against his throat, drawing the musky scent of sex and his skin deep into your lungs. You were still floating to a certain extent, your body sore and exhausted, but the comfort of his touch, the low rumble of his voice went a long way to soothing you. “Love you. Missed you.” 

“I love you and missed you, too.” He pressed a fond kiss to your wrist, letting out a contented sigh. “Let’s avoid being apart for a while.”

“Agreed.” 

[eghtony]

"Welcome to the club"

[tinygameralec]

WIP It was Wednesday recently

Tagged by @sunny374940

Tagging friends up here because I respect your right to choose whether or not to be exposed to my nasty nasty porn. @redheadsramblings, @draco-illius-noctis, @nagiru, @andthekitchensinkao3 and anyone else who feels like it.

I am warning you right now, this is smut. This is absolutely Dubcon, Sanguine-being-a-bad-parner, stomach-bulging-from-monster-cock filth. Do not open this if you value your sanity. Or my Bosmer's ass integrity.

Sanguine was wearing a proper Daedric form, and no doubt Emrys would've found it suitably impressive in other circumstances. However, he was slightly distracted by the rather...

His member was huge! Thicker around than Emrys' biceps - admittedly not overly thick given that Emrys was one of the rare Bosmer to never have touched a bow or other weapon in his life - and over a foot long, covered in ridges and bumps and tapering to a strange point that was already oozing... It wouldn't fit. It couldn't fit!

"Wait!" he yelled, his voice almost cracking from panic. "I change my mind, I can't, it's too-!"

"Quiet now." A quick gesture of clawed fingers and something that tingled with powerful Alteration magic wrapped around his head, ran slickly over his mouth to bind it shut. It slid between his teeth and swelled up, trapping his voice behind a thick solid ball that he couldn't move or bite down on. The ball kept moving and shifting, and his eyes went wide with panic as he realised it was forming into a thick, heavy cock that started thrusting back and forth in time with his panicked heartbeat. Not quite far enough to trigger his gag reflex, but enough to threaten it, firm and relentless across his tongue and into his throat.

"I told you." Sanguine tilted his head up, and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek just over the strip of magical stuff gagging him. "If you said yes, I wasn't going to stop. Because that's not what you want. What you want is someone who'll use you, completely and utterly. You want to be fucked like a toy, to have someone finally treat you like the absolute slut that you are beneath all your good deeds. You want all your limits completely and utterly broken until you're nothing but a helpless doll made for taking cock."

He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, because Sanguine was right. He wanted to be treated so badly, and he knew he shouldn't. He knew that he shouldn't be imagining what it was going to feel like when that literal monster cock forced its way into his body, but beneath the terror of oh god it's going to tear me apart was a desperate voice absolutely begging for it to just impale him. For him to tilt his head back and see what the thrusting gag would do with free access to his throat. To hear the voices of the Prince's followers as they watched him being used for both his pleasure and someone else's...

"And because I'm so nice," Sanguine continued, tracing light fingers along his trembling side as he moved back behind him, "I'm going to give you my blessing. You can and will take it. Your body will be able to handle anything anyone ever puts in you, and it will feel perfect. For the rest of your life, you'll be able to indulge yourself in the most twisted of your fantasies, and never get hurt. You'll be the perfect fucktoy you've always wanted to be, and part of you will always be mine."

A finger tapped at his tailbone, and he yelped around the length in his mouth as he felt himself suddenly as wet and loose as if he'd been prepared more thoroughly and for longer than he'd ever been before. He clenched down on instinct, and a trickle of cold lube ran down to slowly make its way down his thigh, a line of warmth and an interesting tingle following in its wake.

In heartbeats, the tingle and heat rose inside him, making him twitch and squirm. It felt so weird, and made the emptiness inside him even worse! He needed, he needed something in him, now, or he was going to lose his mind! His head was a litany of please please please, his begging trapped behind the enthusiastic length working over his mouth.

The tip of Sanguine's cock pushed at his hole, just enough to for him to feel the beginning of the stretch, and he sobbed. His body ached and sang from the beating, and his insides were screaming to be filled, and it was already too much, and it wasn't enough!

A strong hand grabbed his chin and tilted his head down so he was looking at the crowd through his tears. Some of them were stroking themselves, others already moving onto more intimate activities with others, but every single set of eyes was fixed on him. From men and mer, to beastmen, to daedra and beings he wasn't sure of at all, and they were all watching as he shook helplessly in his bonds.

"Give them a good show, Emrys," Sanguine purred.

The push was slow but relentless, the pointed tip sliding inside him smoothly only to be replaced by a series of bumps that rubbed deliciously against his flesh, pushing deeper and deeper and helping his body take the ever-wider length. Soon he was stretched so tight he was whimpering, flashes of pleasure-pain making his body jerk as it just kept going...

And then the ridges came, stretching him further and giving him a brief second of relief before the next one forced him wider still, and it was still pushing in, Sanguine's cock forcing his body to shift and change to take it... Finally, finally the pushing stopped, and he felt hips pressed firm against his ass. He was breathless, every tiny movement and gasp for air reminding him of just how stuffed full he was.

"Look." He looked down, compelled by Sanguine's voice, and the only noise he could make was a pathetic whine. His belly was bulging, the thick line of the Daedric cock inside him stretching him out to show its shape off, so long it almost reached his ribs. The Prince's hand brushed over his skin, pressing down so he could feel how utterly he'd been reshaped to become a living, breathing, mortal toy for him to fill.

[amorgansgal]

Ok, this is pure filth, so I'm putting it under the cut. But oh boy, I am back with a smutty thought of the day, concerning Halsin.

I really think he would love to slide his cock between his lover's slit, not actually penetrate, but just rubbing their pussy and enjoying how wet it is and enjoy watching his partner's expression as he hits their clit, then seeing his cum pool between their thighs.

[vimflam]

mothers learning about the concept of ultra-processed food is the worst thing that could have happened

[lagomortis]

i wonder what the people who followed me for animal stuff think of my weeb shit. hello person who likes antique animal art. im glad to introduce you to sadomasochistic abuse yuri manga

[inafieldofdaisies]

OCs as Archetypes | uquiz | Tagged by @rhettsabbott @g0dspeeed @voidika and @imogenkol

Lover: You are so full of love and light; you value the people around you more than anything. I hope you find what you're looking for. I hope you find the right people at the right time and that your world is full of love; I hope your love is returned to you, properly, and that you don't ever get too hurt (because you're prone to it, aren't you?). You deserve that, you deserve the world. I wish you the best. Also, I'm serious, read the last lines of the minecraft end poem if you haven't, I think you'll like it.

Villain: I know some of them pity you. They think you must be exhausted carrying around that much resentment, that much anger. I know what you did, though, what it must have taken to get here. You had no fall from grace; you walked into the pit, eyes open, feet planted firmly on the staircase. And so be it. It's an effective lifestyle, if you're willing to commit to it. I'm sure you'll get where you're going. And then they'll see, they'll all see--because that's what's important, isn't it?

Hero: The hero in a relative sense, anyhow. You have your moments of weakness, but you're the best one for the job. Or the only one that wants it. Golden child, high aptitude, natural leader, whatever it may be--you've grown used to being favored, to being the best. You walk a fine line and you'll lose yourself to insanity if you aren't careful. You know that, though. It began to dawn on you a long time ago what you've gotten yourself into.

Ghost: You seem to think you're the villain. I don't think that you are. I don't know why you'd want to be, either. There is always love and light if you look for it and I think you would enjoy that, if you would let yourself be a part of that world instead of haunting it from beyond the glass. It really isn't much fun to be a villain, but I think you know that. It's easier, sure, than trying to be a good, happy person, but it isn't as much fun. The cool aesthetics only make up for so much.

Starlet: Deeply, you understand beauty--what it is to possess it, to surround yourself in it, to be consumed by it. It's better, isn't it? To create your own world full of lights and glamour than to live in reality with the rest of us? It's like living in a movie. You win, by the way. This is your movie, you're our star. Be careful, though, getting too far from reality. It gets more and more difficult to come back, and you've got to, at some point.

Tagging, @socially-awkward-skeleton @strangefable @strafethesesinners @aceghosts @raresvtm

@josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @carlosoliveiraa @gearvmac @thesingularityseries

@killyourrdarlingss @shellibisshe @direwombat @cassietrn @finding-comfort-in-rain

@purplehairsecretlair @wrathfulrook @trench-rot @la-grosse-patate @kyberinfinitygems

@simonxriley @captastra @theelderhazelnut @simplegenius042 @icecutioner

@tommyarashikage @cloudofbutterflies92 @dumbassdep @justasmolbard and anyone that would like to do the tag <3

[wtchgrrl]

i really do hate being an intersex csa survivor cause goddamn im really just never gonna have sex am i

[ebbpettier]

me when i just finished wolfsong

[ink-n-shadow]

if y’all need me, i’ll be on @inkwh0r3

[taronfanfic]

Pause

Masterlist

A/N: This is pure filth. If smut aint your thing perhaps avoid this chapter as it adds nothing to the plot. But to those of you who were here through the Smutty Wednesday days - enjoy!!

Chapter 6

It was strange to continue with your day as normal when you’d just found out you were pregnant. It reminded you of when you’d first got engaged and decided not to share the news immediately. Living for that little bit extra in your own bubble of happiness. Except this time the wait to tell people was going to be a fair bit longer. Life was going to continue as though nothing had changed at all, and with each minute which passed, little by little, bit by bit, you were growing your baby, your future.

“Isn’t it weird that it’s literally half of you and half of me.” You thought aloud from your end of the sofa as you sat with your feet stretched out into Taron’s lap.

“It’s not weird, it’s science, DNA, life! It’s how it’s always been.”

“I know, but considering it’s inside me it feels like it should be more of a 60/40 split.” Taron laughed hard at your suggestion.

“You’re funny, but that would be so sexist. Don’t you want our child to have half of my genes? They might get my smile, or witty sense of humour.” He grinned smugly.

“They might inherit your weird love of mayo on everything.” You teased him back.

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding, it would be adorable to have a little version of you running around this place one day.” It was too easy to picture your future life in this house with your own family. A warm summers evening with the patio doors wide open, your favourite music drifting out into the garden as you sat with a glass of wine and watched Taron playing with your child, son or daughter, you could see both just as clearly. It was perfect. Life would be perfect, and you were well on your way to being there.

“I’m so glad you’re happy about this. When I came home earlier and found you crying my stomach sank a bit. I thought you might say… I wasn’t sure you’d be ready. Not yet anyway, and I didn’t know how to tell you how much I want this.” Taron reached his hand out and waited for you to follow his lead and take hold of it. “I’ve been dreaming of this, wishing for it, for a while now but I didn’t want to push you. I was happy to wait for you to be ready.”

“I’m not sure I’d ever feel totally ready.” You admitted. “It’s still terrifying, but it’s happening, and there’s no way on earth that I’d ever consider ending this. I want this baby, your baby-”

“Our baby.” Taron interrupted.

“Our baby.” You smiled back to him. “But I need you with me on this, more than ever, because I have no idea what’s around the corner.”  You pulled his hand towards you and encouraged him to move up the sofa between your legs so you could leave a soft kiss to his lips. “But with you, I feel safe.”

“I’m here, I’m so here for all of it, and I’ll do anything you need. I want you to feel safe and happy and relaxed.” He replied with another kiss. “I’m so lucky.” Your lips were barely parting as he continued to let his thoughts flow, unfiltered. “To have you.” Each sentence split by kisses. “So lucky.” Growing more teasing. “To have your love.” More needy. “and to get to love you every day.” You slid your fingers into the back of his hair as you held him close and took his kisses with ease. “God, I want you so badly.” He sighed.

“I’m yours.” You replied with a whisper into his ear which caused the short hairs at the nape of his neck to stand on end.

“All mine.” He sighed again before looking straight into your eyes. “Are you comfortable?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded.

“Good, because I’m dying to pleasure you. Right. Now.” He kept his voice deep and his words slow, each one hitting you deep in your core and making you throbbing in excitement. “And I’m going to take my time.” He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth as he let his words linger. He could see the arousal written all over your face and he loved it. “Are you already wet for me?” He asked simply and you could only nod again. “Good girl.”  

Despite knowing what was about to happen, you were thrown when Taron started to kiss you again and not lower himself down your body. He was leaving you hanging and being the ultimate tease and it made you want to kick your feet in protest. You were dying to be touched and pleasured between your thighs, and yet Taron’s hand remained at the side of your neck as his tongue played inside your mouth. It was killing you. Breaking the kiss off to look down between your bodies wasn’t the hint he needed, and his mouth moved to your neck instead, so you went for the less subtle approach. You traced your fingers down from his shoulder, over his chest and stomach and lightly rubbed around his crotch before cupping his solid bulge through his trousers. It drew a heavenly moan out of him.

“You like that?”

“Always.” He replied instantly, moving his eye contact back to yours and smiling. “But we’ll get to that soon. I want you to be dripping for me first.”

“Touch me.” You practically begged, making his eyes follow yours to your own crotch.

“Oh, you really want it, don’t you?”

“Mmmhm.” You whined.

“Let’s take these off first.” His fingers dipped under the waist band of your trousers and pulled the elastic out so he could tug the soft material down from your hips. He continued to take his sweet time and run his hands down your thighs and over your knees and shins as the material bundled up at your ankles. You wanted to kick your trousers off yourself but giggled as Taron stood up and pulled hard to free you from them. “That’s better.” He commented as he looked down at you, watching you move your hand between your thighs so you could start to touch yourself over the top of your underwear. “You tease.” He couldn’t take his eyes away from your fingertips. “Make them wet for me.” The dampness from your arousal seeped through the pink cotton as you dragged two fingers up your folds to your clit, darkening the material much to Taron’s delight. “Fucking beautiful.” He settled himself on his knees between your legs and rubbed his hands up and down your thighs as he simply watched you playing with yourself for a few seconds.

“Stop imagining it, and just do it.” You teased him. “Come and taste me.” As you lifted your hips and started to lower your damp underwear for him he took over, sliding them down your legs and off your feet before scrunching them up and inhaling the scent deeply.

“You’re not getting these back for a while.” He smirked as he bundled them into his back pocket. “They’re mine now.” Knowing he’d be wanking over them one day in the future was a hot thought.

it killed you when he moved back up your body to kiss you again instead. Just as you thought he was fully invested in going down on you his lips met yours in a searing kiss. His tongue worked it’s magic, teasing and playing as though you’d never kissed before. It had you melting down harder into the cushions, his weight, and heat, and passion suddenly taking your breath away.

“Taron.” You panted softly as he pulled back. “Fucking hell.” He could only smirk down at you, as if to say ‘Yeah, I know.” And you were gone. Lost entirely to lust and to love. Needing him to touch you, fill you, take you to the edge and push you so hard over it that you couldn’t see straight. You felt like your eyes were pleading enough with him already, but still he restrained himself. His fingertips danced over your hips, waist, stomach and thighs as his eyes stayed glued to your glistening core. Your saw the arousal jolt through his torso as you touched yourself again and moaned softly for him.

“I want you.” You purred as you sank two fingers deeply into yourself, watching on as he licked his lips slowly.

“You’re so hot, oh my god.”

“Taste me.” You instructed him before lifting your fingers to his mouth and pushing them between his lips, feeling his tongue dance against your skin as he sucked them clean and swallowed around you. He took hold of your wrist and pulled your fingers from his mouth before kissing them gently in appreciation.

“That’s what I want. Be loud for me. Tell me what you want, tell me how it feels.” He locked his eyes with yours for a moment longer, finding the palm of your hand with his and then linking your fingers as he held it.

“I’m not going to last.” You admitted and he giggled to himself.

“I don’t want you to. I’m just gonna keep going and you can have them all.”

“Oh my god, yes.” You replied as you dropped your head back to the cushion below and felt Taron finally lower his face between your thighs. “Start slow.”

“Slow.” He hummed against your inner thigh, keeping his voice deep and letting the vibrations start things off before leaving a trail of gentle, wet kisses as he moved in to lightly lick your dampness.

“Oh that’s it!” you cried out as your needs were finally being met. “You can go deeper.”

“Mmmm, ‘k.” He rumbled back before parting your folds with his tongue, working up each side of your clit and kissing you a few times.

“That feels so good, oh wow.” His tongue flattened out against you, working a little harder and faster, rippling over your sensitive spot and you let out a cry of delight. “Right there!... Fuck. Yes. Fuck, fuck.” You used your free hand to run your fingers through the top of your own hair as you arched your back with pleasure. “Just… suck, suck a little.”

“Yes, baby. Tell me what you want.” Taron growled against you as he heard your instructions, following them quickly and pressing his lips in against your clit to pleasure you.

“Oh god, yes! This is perfect. Don’t stop.” You sighed deeply. “Please, don’t stop.” The noises coming from both of you mixed into a wet, hot, panting soundtrack. Taron lapped you up, kissing, licking, sucking and submerging himself into his own frenzy as he heard every single moan, heavy breath, cry and curse that escaped your lips. “Faster.” You added as you moved your hand down and into Taron’s hair to keep him in place.

“Oh that’s it, fuck, yes. Yes, yes, yes. I’m there. Shit, I’m gonna- I’m- oh my god. I can’t. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” The unfiltered words that left your lips prepared Taron for your shaking thighs and pulsing core that accompanied your first orgasm. You swear you could feel him smiling to himself as he pulled back a little and licked you slowly through it.

“Gorgeous.” He commented as you lay spent, breathing heavily and looking up to the ceiling, your fingers still lightly playing in the top of his hair. “You taste so sweet.” He went back in to lick up the new pool of liquid you’d created for him and you flinched happily from the sensitivity he’d ignited.

“That was incredible.”

“That was just the start.” Another kiss was left to your inner thigh before he released your hand so he could kneel up and pull his t-shirt off over his head. “Knowing you’re pregnant is mad. You’re so attractive right now. I just wanna-” He cut his own sentence off.

“Wanna what?” It was your turn to tease him. Seeing him like this, for you, was the hottest thing. Sex with Taron had always been good, but if you’d have known he’d be down for you this badly once you were pregnant you might have thought about making it happen sooner.

“Fuck you in every possible way, all at the same time.” He laughed. “and, if for any reason that pregnancy test was a false positive, it sure as hell wont be once I’m done with you.”

“Fuck me, that’s hot.” You swooned just as hard over him as he was over you, watching in delight as he opened the top of his trousers and freed his rock-solid cock.

“Get down here.” He growled before grabbing your ankles and pulling you down the sofa so you aligned perfectly with his crotch. Your legs were lifted over his shoulders and a shared look fell naturally between you as he pushed his tip into you and started to take you for his own pleasure this time around. There was nothing slow or teasing about it. Skin met skin, loudly. Taron’s groans were short and sharp, laced with pants of ‘fuck’ and intakes of breath dragged between his teeth. Minutes passed with nothing but pleasure flowing between you as he fucked you hard. When he leant forward to get a better angle inside you, placing one hand down beside your head and forcing your leg back to your chest you let go for the second time. You held on tightly to his upper arm as you came apart around him, your eyes screwed shut and mouth open wide letting out the scream of pleasure.

“Fucking hell, Y/N.” Taron swore, stuttering his own rhythm at the feel of you losing it. “Jesus, I can’t. You’re so tight and wet.”

“Don’t stop, please.” You panted back, moving your hand to his chest and then up to his jaw to get him to look at your face and not the sight of him fucking you. “You’re so good. Not yet.”

“Slower.” He replied as he edged himself. “I can still feel you tensing.” He smiled as his movements in and out sparked small impulses inside you. “This is heaven.”

“I love you so much.” You reached up to leave a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love you more.”

“Do you wanna cum in me or on me?”

“Mmmm, choices.” Taron mused as he started to pick his speed back up. “In.”

“So you can watch it run out of me after?” You picked the dirty talk back up so he could get off with even more enjoyment.

“Oh fuck, yes.” He groaned as you teased your fingertips down his shoulders and back, lingering for a moment and then taking a firm hold of his arse.

“That’s it, Taron. Give it to me. You feel so good inside me.”

“Fuck, fuck fuck.” He hissed in pleasure, upping his pace again and working himself right up to the edge.

“Come for me, baby.” You encouraged softly but his focus was completely held by the sight of his cock thrusting into you.

“Oh god, yes.” He muttered to himself. “Fuck, fuck, oh yes.” He slowed his thrusts as he came, and you moved your hands back to his chest so you could feel his heart pounding.

“Good?” You asked him simply.

“Incredible.” He replied as he pulled out and flashed you his most charming of smiles whilst waiting for the inevitable cocktail of pleasure to flow from you. “God, that sight never gets old. You’re such a mess, let me clean you up.” He smirked before reaching for the tissue box. “Just kidding.” He threw the box across the living room carelessly and made you laugh.

“Taron!”

“What?” He cocked one eyebrow and left a quick kiss to your mouth. “This is all mine.”

“Oh my god, fuck.” You swore in pleasure again as his tongue dragged up and over your sensitive skin in a single long stroke. His repeated licks had you squirming beneath him and when he started to suck against your clit again you felt his arm move across your lower stomach to hold you down. “Taron, I can’t take it, fuck.”

“One more.” His deep voice vibrated into you, and you knew you could give in to it. Everything felt so tense and heightened but you knew if you relaxed, he’d get you there in seconds. You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, slowing and deepening each one, relaxing your thighs, your glutes, your abs and finally your core. “Mmmm that’s it.” Taron breathed back against your skin as he lightened the pressure from his tongue and slowed right down to match your pace.

“That’s really nice.” You sighed as the tingling built up once more. Soft kisses, light breaths, gentle hums and swirls from his tongue pleasured you in exactly the right way. You were moaning for him, arching your back in delight and swearing under your breath as he continued.

“I’ve got you.” He encouraged. “Just one more.”

The next wave of pleasure that built was the one you took, calmer than the previous two but still stunning. Gentle pulses surged through you, leaving you feeling utterly relaxed and completely defeated to the incredible man who couldn’t think of a better place on Earth to be than between your thighs.

[i-like-turkey]

It's so fucking homophobic that they cut to the sex scene before we see Aaliyah's back hitting the wall 😭

[the-amber-droid-dreams]

can anyone volunteer to shoot my ex gf into the fucking sun ? bitch just pulled some more bullshit a few days ago and i dont have the fucking time to be mad about this lmao.

[silentstaresfanficandfanart]

Im not sure what has stricken me more the fact that this is a thing someone decided to write about (its entirely possible this is one of those ones that were added to yokai guides back in the day to pad out the numbers and make the books more interesting, i think i recall that being a thing) or the fact that there are *more than one variants of this creature* I get the impression theres a lesson here somewhere, something about respectfully not letting fruit rot on the tree but the message gets a litlte lost in the whole

scatalogical fruit yokai story