#chat and chill

[cosmicaura7]

COME RIGHT ON ME, I MEAN CAMARADERIE

Pairings : pedro pascal (joel miller) x reader

Genre : f/m, smut, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie, use of sex toys, ass play, anal sex, double penetration in one hole

Synopsis : In where Joel loves the sight of his pretty little wife all filled up by him.

Word Count : 5.4k

The bedroom was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the moon filtering through the curtains. The sheets beneath you were warm, tangled around your legs as Joel loomed over you, his broad, solid frame casting shadows against the walls. His hands, rough and calloused, traced slowly over your bare skin, making you shiver in anticipation. "You alright, darlin'?" Joel's voice was thick with lust, his deep brown eyes locked onto yours as he brushed your hair away from your damp forehead.

You swallowed hard, nodding, but your body betrayed you, hips twitching, thighs squeezing together, aching for him. "Y-Yeah." You whispered, voice breathless. "Just… you're so big."

"That so?" Joel huffed a low chuckle, smirking as he traced his thumb over your swollen lips. You whimpered as he teased your entrance, pressing the thick head of his cock against your slick folds but refusing to push in just yet. "You always say that." He murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his tone dripping with amusement. "Yet you always take me so damn well."

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he pushed forward, stretching you inch by inch. Your back arched off the bed, toes curling at the slow, delicious burn of him filling you up. "Fuck, Joel." You gasped, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure and pressure coiled deep inside your belly.

"Shh, baby." He cooed, pressing kisses along your jaw as he sank deeper. "Let me take care of you." Your breath hitched when he bottomed out, filling you so perfectly it made your mind hazy. Every thick inch of him pulsed inside you, stretching you in a way no one else ever could. "Feel that?" He groaned, rolling his hips just enough to make you whimper. "Feel how tight you are around me?"

You nodded frantically, nails raking down his back, overwhelmed by the way he fit inside you too much, yet not enough. "You feel so good." You moaned, rolling your hips up to meet him.

Joel let out a guttural growl, gripping your waist as he pulled back, only to thrust into you again, deeper this time. Your walls clenched around him, your body desperate to keep him inside, to savor every inch of him. "Greedy little thing." He murmured against your lips. "Obsessed with how I stretch you out, huh?" Your cheeks burned, but you couldn't deny it. You loved how big he was, how full he made you feel how he ruined you for anyone else. And as Joel set a slow, punishing pace, rolling his hips in deep, deliberate strokes, you knew you’d never get enough of him.

-----

The bedroom was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the flickering flames casting golden hues over the sweat-slicked bodies tangled in the sheets. The air was thick with heat, Joel’s deep gravelly moans mixing with your breathless whimpers as he pressed his weight over you, hips flush against yours.

“Goddamn, darlin’.” He groaned, voice thick with desire. “Look at you, fuckin’ made for me.” His large hands gripped your thighs, pushing them open even wider as he sank deeper, filling you completely. Every slow deliberate thrust had you gasping, your body trembling beneath his. He was so thick, so perfect inside you, stretching you open in a way that left your head spinning.

Joel watched with dark, hungry eyes as your lips parted, your hands clutching at the sheets. He could feel the way your walls squeezed him, desperate to keep him buried inside. The thought of pulling out, of not spilling himself deep in your pretty little cunt, was damn near unbearable. “You love it, don’t you?” He rasped, his thumb brushing over your swollen clit, making you jolt. “Love how full I make you?” You could only nod, too lost in pleasure to find the words. But that wasn’t enough for Joel. He leaned down, nipping at your jaw, his breath hot against your ear.

“Say it.”

A shudder wracked through you as he rolled his hips, hitting that perfect spot inside you. Your fingers clutched at his back, nails digging into his skin. “I…I love it.” You gasped. “Love how big you are… love when you fill me up.”

A guttural growl rumbled deep in his chest, his control hanging by a thread. His thrusts grew rougher, more desperate, his need to claim you consuming him whole. “That’s my girl.” He muttered, kissing you hard, his beard scraping against your soft skin. “Gonna give you every fuckin’ drop, baby, make sure you feel me for days.”

The thought sent a wave of heat straight to your core, your body tightening around him as you teetered on the edge. Joel felt the way you clenched down, the way your breath hitched. He wasn’t far behind, the need to pump you full driving him wild. “Come on, darlin’.” He urged, his movements growing frantic. “Milk my cock, baby, take all of it.”

And as pleasure crashed over you, your cries muffled against his lips, Joel groaned deep in his chest, spilling into you with a few final, shuddering thrusts. He stayed there, buried inside, panting against your skin as he pressed soft kisses to your shoulder. “Fuck.” He murmured, rubbing slow, soothing circles against your trembling thigh. “Ain’t never gonna get enough of this, enough of you.” His words sent a lazy, satisfied smile across your lips as you curled against him, already aching for him to claim you all over again.

Joel never had much restraint when it came to you. Not when you looked at him like that, all soft and desperate, like you needed him as much as he needed you. And especially not when you were already spread out beneath him, body trembling and stuffed so full of him that he swore he could see the outline of his cock pressing against your lower belly.

“Shit, baby,” he groaned, voice thick with arousal as his rough hands smoothed over your stomach. “You feel that?”

You could only whimper, your body hypersensitive from how many times he’d already filled you. But he wasn’t done, not even close. He pressed down just the slightest bit, making you cry out as the sensation of being impossibly full sent another wave of pleasure through you.

“You’re takin’ me so good.” Joel muttered, leaning down to nip at your jaw. “So damn tight, baby, fuck, I can feel how much of me is inside you.” His hips moved slow and deliberate, dragging every thick inch along your sensitive walls before pressing deep again, making sure you felt every bit of him. Your fingers gripped his shoulders, nails raking down his back as your body shuddered beneath him.

“I-I can’t…” You gasped, voice weak, body spent from how many times he had already pushed you past your limit.

“Yes, you can.” Joel rasped against your skin, lips brushing over your ear as his hips snapped forward. “Takin’ me so damn well, sweetheart. Let me give you one more, just one more, baby.”

One more.

That was a lie.

Joel didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. Not when your body clenched down around him like you were made to take him, like your body craved to be filled over and over again. His thrusts grew rougher and more frantic, his body tightening with the need to empty himself inside you once more. You could feel how deep he was, how every single drop he had already given you was pooling inside, stretching you out in ways that made your head spin.

Joel’s fingers dug into your hips, holding you steady as he gave you one last brutal thrust, a deep, guttural groan ripping from his chest as he spilled inside you. His breath was ragged, his heart hammering against yours as he collapsed over you, keeping himself buried deep. “Fuck.” He muttered, pressing soft kisses along your throat, his hand splaying over your belly, feeling the slight swell beneath his palm. “Look at you, baby, so damn full of me.”

You could only moan weakly in response, the sensation of his warmth spreading inside you making your body tremble. Joel smirked, rolling his hips just enough to make you jolt. “Think I can give you another?” He murmured against your ear, already hardening again inside you. Your body shivered in anticipation, knowing full well he wasn’t going to stop until he was satisfied. And that wouldn’t be for a long long time.

-----

Joel leaned back on his heels, hands spreading over your thighs as he took in the sight before him. His breath was still heavy, his body still thrumming with the aftershocks of his release, but his eyes, dark and hungry, were fixated on the mess he had made between your trembling legs. “Look at you, baby.” He muttered, his rough thumb tracing slow, lazy circles over your inner thigh. “So fuckin’ pretty all stuffed full of me.”

You whimpered, body still sensitive, thighs twitching as you felt the thick warmth of his spend trickling out of you. It smeared across your inner thighs, glistening in the dim light of the bedroom, pooling on the sheets beneath you. The sight had Joel groaning deep in his chest, his cock twitching at the way your body tried so desperately to hold onto him.

“Fuck.” He breathed, dragging two fingers through the creamy mess leaking from your core. “Did so good takin’ me, sweetheart. But look at this, you’re already losin’ it.”

"J-Joel…" Your breath hitched as he pushed some of it back inside you, his thick fingers curling deep, making you gasp as your overstimulated walls clenched down around him.

He smirked, lips ghosting over the inside of your knee before he pressed a soft kiss there. “Gotta make sure none of it goes to waste, darlin’.” He murmured, his fingers working slow, deliberate thrusts as he watched you squirm. “Worked too damn hard fillin’ you up just for you to spill it all out.”

Your fingers gripped the sheets, body writhing beneath him as the pleasure built again, sharp and consuming. Joel watched you, utterly captivated, his free hand pressing down on the slight swell of your lower belly, making you keen at the pressure. "You feel that?" He rasped, eyes locking onto yours. "All of me still inside, baby. Just sittin’ there, keepin' you so fuckin' full."

You could only moan in response, back arching as the pleasure threatened to consume you all over again. Joel chuckled, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your swollen lips before whispering,

"Think you can take one more, sweetheart?" He already knew the answer. And he had no intention of stopping until he was satisfied.

Joel groaned as he watched more of his seed spill from your fluttering cunt, the creamy mess smearing your already soaked thighs. His fingers had done their best to push it back inside you, but your body just couldn’t seem to hold it all. “Tch.” He shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Can’t have that, sweetheart. Worked too damn hard fillin’ you up.”

You barely had the strength to respond, your body still trembling from how many times he had wrung you out. But when you felt him shift, reaching over to the nightstand, your hazy mind barely had the time to register what he was grabbing until you heard the distinct sound of a cap clicking open. Your breath hitched as you turned your head, eyes widening when you saw the toy in his hand. The dildo, one you had teased him about before, claiming it was a “backup” for when he wasn’t around. Joel had scoffed at the idea, muttering something about you not needing anything else when you had him.

But now? Now, he was dragging the head of it through your slick folds, gathering the mix of both your arousals as he smirked down at you.

“J-Joel…”

“Shhh, baby.” His voice was soft, but firm. “Need somethin’ to keep all that inside, don’t we?”

You whimpered as he nudged the toy against your overstimulated entrance, teasing you, pushing just the tip in before pulling it back out, watching the way your pussy clenched desperately around nothing. “So fuckin’ greedy.” He murmured, shaking his head. “Took my cock so well but look at you, still needy, still desperate to be stuffed full.” Your face burned, but the heat of embarrassment was quickly drowned out by pure pleasure as he finally pressed the toy in, inch by agonizing inch, until it was nestled deep inside you.

“Fuck, baby.” He groaned, watching the way you shuddered beneath him. He pressed a palm against your lower belly again, feeling the pressure of the toy deep inside you. “So tight, so full. Bet you can feel it all the way up here, huh?” You whimpered, nodding weakly.

Joel smirked, his fingers trailing down to press lightly against the base of the dildo. “There. Now you won’t waste a single drop.” He leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow, lazy kiss. “Go on, sweetheart.” He murmured against your lips. “Get some rest. You’re gonna need it.”

Because he wasn’t done with you yet.

You barely had time to recover from the fullness between your legs before Joel’s large hands put you on your hands and knees and spread you open again, his thumbs kneading into your ass as he groaned at the sight before him. The dildo still sat snug inside your soaked pussy, keeping every drop of his cum deep inside you. But Joel? He wasn’t satisfied, not yet.

“Look at you.” He murmured, voice thick with arousal as his fingers ghosted over the curve of your ass. “So goddamn pretty, stuffed full like this. But you can take more, can’t you, sweetheart?”

Your breath hitched as his hand drifted lower, calloused fingers teasing over the tight ring of muscle. “J-Joel…” You whined, barely able to form words as you shifted under him, overwhelmed by everything and by him.

He chuckled, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your lower back, his scruff scraping against your overheated skin. “Shh, baby. You trust me, don’t you?” You nodded weakly.

“That’s my good girl.”

You shivered as you heard the click of a bottle cap, followed by the cool drizzle of lube against your sensitive skin. Joel took his time, rubbing slow, teasing circles around your tight hole, letting you relax under his touch. “Gotta loosen you up first.” He murmured, pressing a single finger inside, groaning at the way you clenched around him. “Shit, baby, so tight.” Your body trembled as he worked you open, adding another finger, then another, stretching you until the slight burn melted into pure pleasure.

“That’s it…” He praised, his free hand stroking over the small of your back. “Doin’ so good for me.” You whimpered as he pulled his fingers away, only to replace them with the tip of his cock, nudging against your stretched entrance.

“Joel, please…”

“Shh, baby.” He soothed, pressing a gentle kiss against your spine as he pushed in, inch by slow, agonizing inch. “Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so goddamn tight.” You gasped as he bottomed out, completely filling you in a way that had your toes curling. The fullness and the overwhelming stretch, had your eyes rolling back as you clung to the sheets, breathless.

Joel groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. “So fuckin’ perfect.” He muttered, slowly pulling back before thrusting in again, setting a slow, deep pace that had your entire body trembling beneath him. You could feel everything, every inch of him, every twitch and every pulse. The mix of pain and pleasure sent shocks through your body, making you whimper his name like a prayer.

Joel leaned down, his chest pressing against your back as he tangled his fingers with yours. “You’re takin’ me so well, sweetheart.” He murmured against your ear, voice thick with praise. “So goddamn good for me.” You gasped as he snapped his hips forward, fucking you harder, deeper, until the only sounds in the room were the wet slap of skin against skin and the broken moans spilling from your lips.

Joel growled, his breath hot against your neck. “Gonna fill you up, baby.” He groaned, his pace growing erratic. “Gonna make sure you’re stuffed full everywhere.” And fuck, you wanted it. Your body trembled beneath him, your fingers gripping the sheets so tightly your knuckles turned white. Every nerve in your body felt overstimulated and set ablaze by the sheer fullness that had you gasping for breath.

Joel was everywhere, inside you, around you and holding you down with his sheer presence as he filled you up in ways you’d never experienced before. The dildo still sat snug inside your dripping pussy, keeping every drop of his cum locked deep inside while his thick cock stretched your ass open, stuffing you so completely that you swore you could feel him in your stomach.

“J-Joel.” You whimpered, overwhelmed by the sensation, your body struggling to process the pleasure mixed with the intensity of the stretch.

“Too much, baby?” Joel groaned, pressing his chest against your back, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear as he murmured. You shook your head frantically, even as tears pricked your eyes. It was a lot, almost too much but you didn’t want him to stop. The pressure, the way he filled you to the brim and made your whole body burn with need.

“Use your words, sweetheart.” Joel coaxed, his large hands smoothing over your waist, grounding you. “Tell me what you need.”

You swallowed thickly, gasping as he rolled his hips, pushing even deeper inside you. “I…I need you to move.” You whispered, your voice shaking.

“Atta girl.” He praised, his fingers threading with yours against the mattress.

Joel pulled back slightly, the drag of his cock against your walls making you shudder before he snapped his hips forward again, setting a slow deliberate pace that had your whole body trembling. “Fuck, baby, so goddamn tight.” Joel growled, his breath hot against your ear. “Never felt you like this before.”

Your eyes rolled back as he pushed deeper, pressing down against your lower back to keep you in place, forcing you to take every inch of him. The pressure was overwhelming, your body stretched to its absolute limit, but the pleasure that came with it had your toes curling and your stomach twisting into knots.

Joel reached around, his fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles. “You’re takin’ me so well, sweetheart.” He murmured, his deep voice dripping with praise. “So fuckin’ full, aren’t you?” You could only nod, your mouth falling open as a broken moan escaped your lips. You felt wrecked, completely at his mercy, unable to do anything but take what he gave you.

“Such a good girl.” Joel groaned, his thrusts becoming rougher, more desperate. “Gonna fill you up again, baby, gonna make sure you’re stuffed full everywhere.”

“Joel, I-I’m…” Your whole body tightened at his words, pleasure coiling in your core and ready to snap. 

“I got you, sweetheart.” He murmured, his grip tightening on your hips as he slammed into you, burying himself to the hilt. “Cum for me.”And with one final stroke of his fingers against your clit, you shattered, pleasure crashing over you in violent waves as your entire body seized beneath him. Your vision went white, your scream muffled by the mattress as you convulsed and trembling from the force of your orgasm.

Joel groaned, his grip bruising as he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside your ass, filling you up even more. For a long moment, the two of you stayed like that, tangled together in a mess of sweat and heat, your bodies trembling from the intensity of it all. He pressed a lingering kiss against your shoulder, his hand smoothing over your stomach. “So goddamn perfect.” He murmured, his voice soft with admiration. You whimpered as he slowly pulled out, leaving you feeling empty despite the way your body was still stuffed to the brim. You barely had the strength to move, your body spent, your limbs weak.

Joel chuckled as he rolled you onto your back, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin. “Think I might’ve broken you, sweetheart.” He teased.

“You always do.” You let out a breathless laugh, your eyelids fluttering as exhaustion began to creep in. 

Joel smirked, leaning down to kiss you deeply, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. “Get some rest, baby.” He murmured. “You’re gonna need it.”

Because knowing Joel, he wasn’t nearly finished with you yet.

-----

The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the bedroom. Joel stirred, his muscles aching in the best way after last night. His arm reached out instinctively for you, but the bed beside him was empty, the sheets cool to the touch. He frowned, lifting his head groggily. That was unexpected. After how he’d wrecked you last night, he was sure you’d be too sore to even think about getting out of bed.

Then a familiar scent drifted through the air, something warm, buttery and sweet.

Joel sat up, rubbing a hand over his face before pushing himself out of bed. Tugging on a pair of boxers, he padded down the hall toward the kitchen, his curiosity piqued. And what he found nearly knocked the breath out of his lungs.

You stood by the stove, humming softly to yourself as you flipped pancakes on the skillet. The sight alone was enough to make his chest tighten, you in his kitchen, making breakfast like it was the most natural thing in the world.

But it wasn’t just that.

It was what you were wearing.

Or, rather, what you weren’t.

You had on nothing but his shirt, the fabric draping loosely over your body and the hem just barely covering the tops of your thighs. Your legs were bare, your skin still carrying faint marks from where he’d held you down last night. And then, as you bent down to grab something from the lower cabinet, Joel caught a glimpse of something that made his cock twitch.

The dildos are still inside you.

His breath hitched. The sight of you plugged up, keeping everything he’d given you locked inside, sent a jolt of arousal straight through him. “Jesus Christ.” He muttered under his breath, his voice still rough with sleep.

You turned at the sound, a sly smirk curving your lips as you met his gaze. “Mornin’, baby.” You teased, flipping the pancake on the skillet like you weren’t standing there with two toys stuffed deep inside you.

Joel exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face as he took in the sight of you. “You…” He shook his head, chuckling darkly. “You’re somethin’ else, darlin’.”

“What? Thought you’d like the idea of me keepin’ myself full for you.” You arched a brow, feigning innocence. 

Joel let out a low growl, stepping closer until he was right behind you, his hands landing on your hips. His thumbs brushed over the curve of your ass, his fingers teasing the edges of the shirt that barely covered you. “You’re damn right I do.” He murmured, his voice thick with heat. His hands slid lower, tracing along your inner thighs before pressing against the plugs keeping you stuffed.

A shudder ran through your body, and Joel smirked. “You been walkin’ around like this all mornin’?” He asked, his fingers toying with the base of the toys, pressing them just enough to make you squirm.

“M-Maybe.” Your breath hitched. 

Joel hummed, his other hand slipping under the oversized shirt, his palm splaying across your stomach. “That’s real cute, sweetheart.” He murmured against your ear, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your neck. “Real damn cute.”

You bit your lip, pressing back against him, feeling the growing hardness beneath his boxers. “Breakfast’s gonna burn.” You reminded him breathlessly.

“Guess we’ll just have to work up an appetite first.” Joel chuckled, his grip tightening.  And with that, he turned off the stove, spinning you around to lift you onto the counter, where breakfast could definitely wait. Your breath hitched as Joel gripped your thighs, spreading them apart as you sat perched on the kitchen counter. The heat of his body pressed against you, his rough hands squeezing the soft flesh of your hips.

"You've been keepin’ yourself full for me, huh?" His voice was low, gravelly, thick with desire as he traced his fingers over the base of the toys still buried inside you.

"Wanted to make sure I didn’t waste anything you gave me last night." You nodded, swallowing hard. 

Joel let out a deep, pleased hum, his fingers gripping your chin and tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "That so?" His dark eyes roamed over you, his pupils blown wide with hunger. "You got no idea what that does to me, sweetheart." Slowly, he slid his fingers down, pressing against the dildo inside your soaked core, pushing it deeper. A whimper slipped from your lips, your body clenching around the intrusion.

Joel smirked, watching you carefully. "Still stretched out for me." He murmured, his other hand trailing down to the second plug nestled between your cheeks. His fingers brushed against it, teasing. "You really are my good girl, huh?"

"Y-Yeah…" Your breath shuddered out of you. 

That was all he needed.

Joel pulled his boxers down just enough to free himself, his cock already thick and leaking, the tip brushing against your inner thigh. He groaned at the slick heat of you, his hands guiding your hips closer to the edge of the counter. "Let’s see just how much you can really take." He murmured, rubbing himself against the dildo stretching your cunt. The sensation of him sliding alongside it made you tremble, your walls already fluttering in anticipation.

Then he pushed inside.

Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp as Joel slowly stretched you further, his cock slipping in beside the toy, filling you to an overwhelming fullness. Your body tensed, adjusting to the stretch, your hands gripping onto his broad shoulders.

"Fuck." Joel let out a shaky breath, his fingers digging into your hips as he bottomed out beside the dildo, feeling how impossibly tight you were with both inside. "Jesus, baby. Feels so goddamn good."

"J-Joel, it's too much!" You let out a breathy moan, your nails scratching down his back. 

"Nah, sweetheart." He murmured, pressing soft kisses against your throat, contrasting the way his hips rolled forward, pressing himself even deeper. "You can take it. Look at you, takin’ me so well."

Your body pulsed around both intrusions, pleasure sparking up your spine as Joel started to move, dragging himself against the dildo inside you. The pressure, the fullness, the sensation of being completely overwhelmed by him, it was too much and not enough all at once.

"You like this, don’t you?" Joel gritted out, his pace quickening, his cock throbbing against the toy nestled deep inside you. "Like bein’ stuffed full, like bein’ mine."

"Y-Yeah, fuck, Joel…" Your voice broke into a desperate cry as he angled his hips just right, hitting that sweet, aching spot inside you.

Joel groaned, watching your face contort with pleasure, drinking in every gasp, every moan. "Gonna make sure you feel me for days, baby." He growled, his thrusts growing rougher and more desperate. "Ain't lettin’ you forget who you belong to." Your body clenched tight around him, your climax barreling toward you with dizzying intensity.

"Come on, sweetheart." Joel murmured against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. "Come for me. Show me how much you love bein’ stuffed full."

And with one more deep, bruising thrust, you shattered and your body trembling, pleasure ripping through you like a wildfire as you cried out his name.

Joel followed moments later, a deep groan tearing from his throat as he buried himself deep inside you, his release spilling into you, mixing with everything already locked inside. He held you there for a moment, breathing heavily against your shoulder, his hands still gripping your hips like he never wanted to let go.

Finally he leaned back, his gaze trailing down to where he was still buried inside you, alongside the toy. A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips. "Look at that, baby." He murmured, running a possessive hand over your stomach. "Still so full of me." You shuddered, barely able to move, your body spent and boneless.

Joel chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling back, his hands already gripping your thighs again. "Think you can handle one more round?" He teased, his dark eyes gleaming. "Or am I gonna have to carry you back to bed?"

-----

Joel never considered himself an addict. Sure, he had his vices, whiskey on a bad night, the occasional cigarette, and the way he indulged in work to distract himself, but this? This was different. This was an obsession.

And it was all because of you.

Ever since that first night, the night he saw you stretched and stuffed full, your body trembling, your breath hitching as you took everything he gave you, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. The sight of you, the feeling of you and the way your body squeezed around whatever he filled you with.

Now, it was a craving. A need.

And tonight was no different.

You were lying on the bed, sprawled out and completely bare, your flushed skin glowing under the dim light. The dildos he’d put inside you earlier were still nestled deep, one keeping you stretched around his size, the other snug between your cheeks, locking everything in place.

Joel stood at the foot of the bed, his dark eyes drinking you in, his cock already heavy and throbbing in his hand. He stroked himself slowly, savoring the way you writhed under his gaze. "You got no idea how pretty you look like this, sweetheart." He murmured, his voice thick with hunger.

Your breath hitched, your thighs twitching as you instinctively tried to squeeze them together, only for Joel to grip your knees and spread them wide again.

"Don't go gettin' shy on me now." He teased, kneeling onto the bed, his large hands trailing over your body, from the soft curve of your waist to the plush swell of your thighs. "You've been lettin’ me stuff you full for days now. Ain't no use hidin’."

A whimper escaped your lips, heat pooling deep inside you as he leaned down, his lips ghosting over your inner thigh, his breath warm against your skin.

"You keepin’ me inside all day, huh?" Joel murmured, his fingers teasing the base of the dildo buried in your cunt, pressing it deeper. "Makin’ sure none of it goes to waste?"

"Y-Yeah." You whispered, your voice barely audible.

Joel groaned, his cock twitching against your thigh. "Good girl." He praised, his lips pressing soft kisses along your stomach. "So fuckin’ good for me." You let out a shaky breath, your hands reaching for him, needing more. He chuckled, shaking his head. "Not yet, baby." He murmured, pulling back just enough to admire the view, the way your body trembled, stretched and full, completely at his mercy.

"Need you…" You pleaded, your voice desperate, your hips rolling instinctively toward him.

Joel exhaled sharply, his resolve snapping. "Yeah, baby?" He lined himself up, slowly pulling the dildo out before guiding his cock to replace it. He pushed inside, groaning as your walls clenched around him, still sensitive, still so tight. Your moan was pure bliss, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he bottomed out.

Joel gritted his teeth, the feeling of your already-stretched walls molding around him nearly sending him over the edge. "Fuck, sweetheart." He rasped, gripping your hips. "You were made for this, made to take me."

He started moving, slow and deep at first, savoring every inch of you, every little gasp and whimper that spilled from your lips. "You gonna let me keep you full forever?" He murmured against your neck, his thrusts growing rougher and hungrier. "Gonna let me ruin you for anyone else?"

"Y-Yes…" You gasped, your nails raking down his back.

Joel growled, his pace quickening, his grip on you tightening as he lost himself in the feeling of you, his obsession, his addiction and his everything.

And he wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

[cat-chilling-out]

sad cat

[alanide-arts]

talks by the riverside

[cosmicaura7]

two of my biggest celebrity crushes on screen. I'm gonna pass away.

I'm going insane

[sk-eveel]

This is actually the wildest crossover i've ever seen

[montereybayaquarium]

Ready to make a splash with some crafting fun?! 🤿🧵

We’ll be going LIVE with Tori and Meriah from our dive team this Thursday @ 3:30 p.m. PT. Join us as we dive deep (literally) into how they blend creativity, crafting, and innovation into their roles at the Aquarium. 

Join us on YouTube!

[musubiki]

please save me star rail danmarch

[cookiedough77]

the more people say "marinette is becoming gabriel!!!"

all i can think of is the scene from the owl house season 3 episode 3 where luz thinks she's just as bad as belos and the titan is like "the fuck??? no??? belos is genuinely awful and hurt alot of people, you are literally a teenage girl"

anyway the same thing is happening here sort of-

JUST AUGHHH

[cosmicaura7]

EATING YOU OUT

Pairings : pedro pascal characters x reader

Genre : f/m, smut, oral (female receiving), overstimulation, edging

Synopsis : He is a devoted husband in every sense of the word. But when it comes to you, his pretty wife, there’s one thing he simply can’t get enough of.

Clint Flood (Freaky Tales)

Clint had always been a man of few words. He never needed them, not when his actions spoke louder, not when he could show you exactly how much he adored you with the way he touched you, worshiped you. And God, did he worship you.

You barely had time to register the way he pulled you into bed, hands gripping your thighs, parting them with a desperation that made your breath hitch. Clint had that look in his eyes, the one that said he was about to ruin you and the one that made your body tremble before he even laid a finger on you.

"Been thinkin’ about this all damn day." He muttered, voice rough with hunger as he pressed kisses up your inner thigh. His scruff scratched against your skin, sending shivers up your spine.

Your fingers threaded through his messy hair as he settled between your legs, inhaling deeply, like the scent of you alone was enough to drive him mad. His large hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer to his mouth and before you could say anything, his tongue was on you, slow, deliberate and savoring. "Clint…" You gasped but he only groaned in response, the vibrations making your thighs twitch around his head.

"You know better than to talk, sweetheart." He murmured against you, his tongue flicking over your clit in a way that made your breath stutter. "Just let me take care of you."

And he did.

Clint was relentless, devouring you with an obsession that left you weak. He licked, sucked and nipped, memorized every little sound you made, every little movement of your hips. He wanted you shaking, coming undone on his tongue, over and over, until you were too blissed-out to do anything but whimper his name. His grip on your thighs tightened when you tried to move away, too overwhelmed by the pleasure but he wasn’t letting you go, not yet. "Stay still, baby." He murmured, voice thick with need. "Ain't done with you."

Your back arched as his tongue worked you over again, teasing, torturing, until you were gasping, pulling at his hair, your body trembling under him. He ate you like a man starved, like he’d never get enough of you because he wouldn’t. And when you finally shattered, thighs clamping around his head, your body shaking with the force of your release, Clint only groaned in satisfaction, licking up every last drop of you like it was his lifeline.

As you lay there, boneless, breathless, he kissed his way back up your body, his lips brushing over your heated skin, smirking against your cheek. "Still with me, pretty girl?" He teased, his voice full of pride. You could barely form words, still floating in the haze he’d left you in. But Clint? He was already thinking about the next time because once would never be enough. Not when it came to you.

Dave York (The Equalizer 2)

Dave York had many obsessions, precision, control and more. The satisfaction of a perfectly executed plan. But none of them compared to you. And more specifically, the way you tasted. It was the one thing that shattered his discipline, made him reckless and made him a goddamn fiend.

Tonight was no different.

You barely had time to process before Dave had you spread out on the bed, your silk nightgown pushed up to your waist, his broad shoulders wedged between your thighs. He wasn’t even pretending to take his time, he needed this, needed you.

The first swipe of his tongue was slow, deliberate, a groan rumbling deep in his chest as he tasted you. “Fuck.” He muttered against your skin, his grip tightening on your thighs. “How do you get sweeter every time?”

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he devoured you, licking into you like a man starved. The heat of his mouth, the flick of his tongue, the way his scruff rubbed against your sensitive skin, it was too much. “D-Dave.” Your voice was already shaking, your thighs trembling around his head but that only seemed to spur him on.

He growled, a deep, needy sound, and wrapped his arms around your thighs, locking you in place. “Not done yet, sweetheart.” As if you had any say in the matter. He feasted on you, tongue circling your clit before sucking it into his mouth, making your back arch off the bed. You whimpered, thighs trying to snap shut but his grip was bruising, his strength impossible to fight.

“That’s it.” He murmured, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your swollen cunt. “Give me everything, baby.”

Your body obeyed, hips rolling against his face, chasing the high he always pulled from you. And when you finally broke, when pleasure crashed over you so violently your entire body trembled, Dave didn’t stop, didn’t let you go.

You tried to push at his shoulders, whimpering from overstimulation but he just laughed, pressing his tongue flat against your clit again. “Who told you we were done?” He murmured against your soaked heat. “I’ll stop when I’m finished.” And you knew, there was no stopping him now. You were his and he was going to ruin you.

Dieter Bravo (The Bubble)

Dieter had many vices.

Drugs? Sure. Booze? Of course. Attention? Absolutely.

But nothing compared to his addiction to you. Specifically, your pussy.

It was almost ridiculous how often he had his face between your legs. You could be doing anything, reading, scrolling through your phone, even talking to him about something completely mundane and suddenly, Dieter would get that look in his eyes. That lazy hungry gaze.

Like now.

You were sitting on the couch, dressed in nothing but one of his old t-shirts, scrolling through your emails. You barely noticed Dieter shifting beside you, draping himself over your lap, nuzzling against your thighs like a cat begging for attention. It was when he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh that you finally glanced down.

“D…” You sighed, already knowing where this was going. “I’m busy.”

Dieter hummed, completely ignoring you, nosing the fabric of your shirt up so he could kiss higher, closer. “You can’t really be that busy.” He murmured against your skin. “Not too busy for me, right, sweetheart?”

“You literally ate me out this morning.” You arched a brow. 

“And? That was hours ago.” Dieter grinned, nipping at your thigh.  You sighed but the anticipation was already pooling low in your stomach. Because you knew Dieter wasn’t going to give up. He never did. 

With a content hum, he hooked his arms around your thighs and pulled, dragging you down until you were half-sprawled against the couch. You let out a soft yelp as he pushed your legs apart, settling between them like a man ready to worship at the altar of his favorite religion. “I love this pretty little pussy.” He murmured, eyes dark as he ran his fingers along your already damp folds. “I swear baby, I could die between these thighs and be the happiest man alive.”

“You’re insane.” You let out a breathless laugh. 

Dieter smirked. “I’m just a man who knows what he likes.” And with that, he dove in. His mouth was hot, tongue slow and deliberate as he licked a long, teasing stripe up your slit before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking.

“Fuck, Dieter…” Your head fell back against the couch. He groaned against you, like he was savoring the taste, like he’d been starving for this. Because he was. He never rushed. Never got bored. Never stopped until you were a shaking, whimpering mess underneath him.

And tonight? He was taking his time.

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

It was late aboard the Razor Crest, the hum of hyperspace a soft backdrop to the warmth cocooning you within your shared bunk. The dim glow of the overhead lights bathed the cramped space in shadows but none of it mattered, not when you were beneath him.

Din had you sprawled out on the thin mattress, his beskar discarded, his helmet resting on the shelf beside him. His dark eyes were fixed on you, hungry and full of devotion, as he pressed kisses along the inside of your thigh. His gravelly voice, thick with need, sent shivers through your already trembling body. "You're shaking, cyar’ika." He murmured, lips ghosting over your sensitive skin. "And I haven't even started yet."

Your fingers curled into the sheets as you whimpered, your body betraying you. The sheer intensity of his gaze, like you were the only thing in the galaxy that mattered, left you breathless. "Din, please." You whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

A low chuckle vibrated against your thigh. "So needy." He murmured, dragging his tongue over your skin, slow and teasing. "You know I love it when you beg."

You gasped as his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, trapping you beneath his unyielding strength. And then he devoured you. His mouth was hot and relentless, tongue swirling, lips sealing over you with an insatiable hunger that left you writhing beneath him. You cried out, arching against him but his grip tightened, holding you down and forcing you to take it.

"You taste so fucking good, my riduur." He groaned against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. Your fingers flew to his hair, tugging, desperate for something to ground yourself. But Din only growled, doubling down, lapping you up like a man starved. His obsession with this, with you, bordered on madness. And you were helpless against it. Utterly and completely at his mercy.

Ezra (The Prospect)

Ezra has always been an indulgent man. The kind to savor his pleasures, to take his time. And when it comes to you? He’s downright ravenous.

It starts with a kiss.

It always does.

A slow, lazy thing, Ezra’s lips pressing soft and warm against yours as he pulls you into his lap. His hands, calloused and sure, trace the curve of your spine, skimming lower, gripping just enough to make you sigh against his mouth. "You’re too good to me, sugar." He murmurs, his breath ghosting over your jaw as his lips move lower. "Ain’t right, how lucky I got."

"And what did I do to deserve such praise?" You smile, threading your fingers through his hair. 

Ezra hums, dragging his lips down the column of your throat. "Exist." And then he’s gone. Down, down, lower, his hands gripping your hips as he lays you back against the bed. The mattress dips beneath his weight, his broad shoulders parting your thighs as he settles between them.

And God help you, because you know what’s coming. Ezra is obsessed with your pussy. And he’s about to prove it.

He starts slow. Dragging his mouth along the inside of your thigh, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the soft skin there. Savoring, worshiping and teasing. "You’re soft everywhere, sugar." He murmurs, voice thick with hunger. "But this? Right here?" His thumb presses against your slick heat, parting you, and he groans. "This is my favorite part."

Your breath catches as he dips his head, his tongue flicking out to taste.

And then Ezra moans like he’s the one being pleasured, like he’s just been given the most decadent meal in the universe. His good hand grips your thigh, holding you open, keeping you spread and vulnerable for his mouth. He licks deep, dragging his tongue through your folds before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking.

You jolt, your hands flying to his hair, thighs trembling around his head.

"Ezra!"

"That’s it." He rasps, pulling back just enough to press a wet kiss against your swollen bud. "Say my name, sugar." He licks again, slower this time, his tongue curling just right and you keen.

"God, Ezra!"

He groans against you, the vibrations sparking pleasure up your spine. His grip tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he devours you, his mouth moving in slow, deliberate strokes, building you up, winding you tight. And then he flicks his tongue, fast and sharp, before sucking hard.

And you break. Pleasure crashes over you in waves, your body arching, thighs clamping around his head as you cry out his name. But Ezra doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down. He keeps going, keeps licking, keeps sucking, dragging out every last tremor, every last pulse of pleasure until you’re shaking beneath him, gasping, whimpering. Only then does he finally pull away, his lips glistening, his eyes dark and blown with hunger.

"You taste like heaven, sugar." He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your trembling thigh. "Think I might need another bite."

And then he dives back in.

And you?

You’re gone.

Francisco Morales (Triple Frontier)

Frankie wasn’t ashamed of it. Hell, he’d scream it from the rooftops if he could. He was obsessed with his wife’s pussy. It was his, after all.

And right now, he was devouring it like a man starved. His broad shoulders were wedged between your thighs, his scruffy beard scratching against your inner thighs as his tongue worked you over, slow and deliberate, savoring the way you squirmed beneath him. Your back was arched, your fingers tugging at his curls, your breath ragged as you tried and failed to keep up with his relentless pace.

“F-Frankie!” Your voice hitched as his tongue flicked against your clit, his arms tightening around your thighs, locking you in place.

“That’s it, baby.” He groaned, his voice gravelly, deep, vibrating against your soaked cunt. “Let me hear you.” You whimpered, legs trembling around his head, but he just held you tighter, lapped at you harder, his tongue dipping deep, tasting everything you had to give him.

“Always so sweet, honey. Always so perfect.” You shuddered, your body tensing, that familiar heat building, rising, coiling tight.

And then Frankie sucked your clit between his lips, his tongue swirling, flicking, pushing you over the edge. Your cry filled the room as you came undone, your thighs clamping around his head, your entire body shaking beneath him.

But Frankie wasn’t done, not yet. “One more, baby.” His voice was thick with hunger, his hands spreading you open again, his tongue diving back in before you could even catch your breath.

And the only thing you could do was take it like a good little girl.

Harry Castillo (The Materialists)

The penthouse was dimly lit, the glow from the city skyline casting soft shadows across the bedroom. Outside, the world was still alive, cars honking, sirens wailing, people laughing in distant bars but here, none of that mattered.

Here, it was just you and Harry.

And Harry was hungry. His hands were possessive, large palms gliding over your bare thighs as he spread you open beneath him. The warmth of his breath tickled your skin, sending a delicious shiver up your spine. “Look at you.” He murmured, eyes dark with need as he settled between your legs. “My perfect little wife.” His lips pressed to the inside of your knee, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses up your inner thigh. Every inch he covered made your heartbeat hammer against your ribs, your breath catching when his nose brushed against where you needed him most.

“Harry…” You whispered, already trembling beneath his touch.

His lips curved against your skin. He loved this, loved how eager, needy and utterly wrecked you became under his hands. He had barely touched you and yet you were already coming undone for him. “You know I can’t help myself.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to the softest part of your thigh. “Not when you taste so fucking sweet.”

And then, he devoured you. His tongue was hot, skilled, and utterly merciless as he dragged it through your slick heat. You arched off the bed, a cry spilling from your lips as your fingers shot down to grip his hair, holding on as he took his time tasting you.

Harry groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core. He loved this. Loved the way your thighs tried to clamp around his head, the way you whimpered and gasped his name with every flick of his tongue. His strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you spread for him as he feasted. Every slow, deliberate lap of his tongue had you trembling, your body coiling tighter and tighter with unbearable pleasure.

“Oh, god! Harry…” You gasped, hips bucking against his mouth. “I…I'm gonna…”

“Go on.” He growled against you, tongue pressing deep, voice husky with obsession. “Give it to me.”

And you did. Your body shattered, pleasure ripping through you so violently that you couldn’t even scream, just a silent, breathless cry as your vision whited out. But Harry wasn’t done. Even as you trembled beneath him, legs twitching, breath shaky, he kept going.

“Too much…” You whimpered, trying to pull away, but his grip tightened on your thighs, pinning you down.

“Uh-uh, sweetheart.” He rasped, looking up at you with hungry, darkened eyes. “I’m not done yet.” And then he dove back in, tongue relentless, dragging you into another devastating wave of pleasure.

You were his. His beautiful, perfect little wife. And he was going to worship you all night long.

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels (Kingsman)

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels prided himself on many things, his skill as an agent, his precision with a lasso, his ability to hold his liquor better than most men. But above all else, there was one thing he cherished, one thing he could never get enough of: you.

More specifically, the sweet little prize between your thighs.

And tonight? Tonight was no different.

You were sprawled across the bed, your body trembling beneath him, your breath coming in ragged little gasps. The silk sheets beneath you were already wrinkled, your fingers tangled in them as you tried to keep yourself together. But Jack had other plans. “Oh, honey.” He drawled against your soaked folds, his voice thick with amusement and hunger. “Ain’t no use runnin’ from me.” Your thighs jerked as his tongue dragged through your slick folds, his hands gripping the plush flesh to keep you still. He’d been down here for what felt like hours, working you over with that devastating mouth of his, taking his time like he had nowhere else in the world to be.

And for Jack, that was true. He had you all to himself, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“J-Jack…” You whimpered, your voice wrecked and needy, barely a breath.

His cock throbbed at the sound, at the way you begged so prettily for him without even realizing it. He nuzzled against your swollen clit, letting his scruff drag against the sensitive skin before wrapping his lips around it and sucking.

You cried out, arching off the bed, your hands flying to his hair as your thighs instinctively tried to clamp around his head. But he was stronger and faster, he pinned your legs open with ease, spreading you wide for him. “Uh-uh, darlin’.” He murmured, looking up at you with dark, hazy eyes. “You know better than that. Let me see you.”

Your chest heaved as you met his gaze, your body quaking beneath him. He looked downright ravenous, his mouth and chin glistening with your slick, his pupils blown wide with hunger. “Prettiest damn thing I ever laid eyes on.” He muttered before diving right back in. His tongue worked you over, alternating between slow, teasing licks and deep, relentless strokes that had you seeing stars. He devoured you, like he was a man starved and you were the only meal he ever needed.

Your stomach tightened, pleasure coiling low, your muscles locking up as you felt yourself hurtling toward the edge. “Come on, sugar.” Jack murmured against you, his voice vibrating through your core. “Give me another one. Know you got it in ya.”

And oh, you did.

With one last flick of his tongue, you shattered. Your body seized, pleasure ripping through you as you sobbed his name, your vision going white-hot as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. Jack groaned against you, his grip tightening, holding you steady as he licked you through every last aftershock, determined to prolong your bliss for as long as he could. Only when your body finally sagged against the bed, spent and trembling, did he pull away. His lips were wet, his beard glistening, but that smirk was firmly in place as he crawled up your body, pressing his hard, aching length against your thigh.

“Think you got another one in ya, sweet thing?” He murmured, nipping at your jaw as one of his hands trailed between your legs, his fingers teasing your overstimulated clit. You whimpered, your entire body shuddering as a fresh wave of need coursed through you.

Jack grinned.

“That’s my girl.”

Javi Guttierez (The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent)

Javi Gutierrez had always been a devoted man. To his work, to his friends, to the things he loved. But nothing held his devotion quite like you did. Especially when he had you like this. Sprawled out on the bed, limbs trembling, thighs spread wide for him as he buried his face between them like a man starved.

He wasn’t even pretending to pace himself tonight. From the moment he laid you down, he had been relentless, tongue hot and wet as it flicked over your clit, his lips sealing around the swollen bud just to suck, pulling desperate whimpers from your throat. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you still even as your body tried to escape the pleasure he forced upon you. You were shaking. Shaking beneath him, body writhing against the sheets, fingers tangled in his thick curls, tugging, pulling, pushing. Not that he ever listened to your weak attempts to get away. If anything, your resistance only spurred him on.

He groaned into your soaked heat, the vibration sending another shockwave through your already overstimulated body. “Tan dulce, mi amor.” He murmured, voice muffled as he licked a long, slow stripe up your slit before sealing his lips around you once more. “I could stay here forever.”

“Javi…” You whined, thighs trembling in his grasp. 

But the plea was cut off by a sharp gasp as he slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right, his mouth never ceasing its delicious assault. His free hand splayed over your stomach, feeling the way your muscles tensed beneath his touch. “Give me one more.” He coaxed, voice thick with arousal, tongue circling your clit in slow, deliberate movements. “One more, cariño, I know you can.”

You didn’t stand a chance against him. Against his tongue, his fingers, the overwhelming hunger he had for you. And when you finally shattered, crying out his name, Javi moaned like he was the one coming undone, lapping up every bit of your pleasure as if he could drink you in. Even as you lay there, panting, skin glistening with sweat, body too spent to move, he still wasn’t satisfied. Because you were his favorite meal.

And Javi Gutierrez never left a plate unfinished.

Javier Peña (Narcos)

Nights with your husband had always felt like a dream, heavy with warmth, golden with affection. But tonight, something different simmered beneath the surface. Javier had been watching you all day. From the way your sundress clung to your curves as you folded laundry, to the delicate stretch of your legs on the couch as you flipped through a magazine, lost in your world. He looked at you like a starving man, slow, focused and reverent.

And now you were lying in bed, bathed in the soft lamplight of your shared room. A breath caught in your throat as he hovered above you, still fully clothed, yet somehow already unraveled by you. “Javi…” You whispered, fingers curling around the front of his shirt.

“Shh, baby.” He murmured, kissing the center of your chest with quiet, burning reverence. “Let me take care of you.”

You swallowed, heart racing, as he trailed kisses lower, slow and deliberate, fingertips skimming down your sides as if he were learning your body all over again. “You’re always so good to me.” He whispered, his voice rough and low. “Always so damn beautiful. You have no idea what you do to me.”

Your breath hitched as he settled between your thighs, warm palms spreading them gently but firmly, like he couldn’t wait another second to worship you properly. And when his mouth met your skin, it wasn’t rushed. No, it was worshipful, slow, focused and obsessed. You gripped the sheets, legs trembling as he groaned into you like he was the one being undone. As if the taste of you was the only thing he ever wanted, the only thing he craved.

“Javi, oh my god!” You gasped, your voice catching as your body arched beneath him.

He didn’t stop. Not when your fingers tangled in his hair. Not when your legs threatened to close around his shoulders. And especially not when you were trembling beneath him, so sensitive you could barely breathe. He pulled back just long enough to kiss your inner thigh and look up at you with that devilish proud smirk of his. “You shaking, baby?” He teased, breath hot against your skin. “I’m not done with you yet.”

And when he kissed you again, slow and deep, you realized Javier Peña wasn’t just obsessed with you. He was starving for you. And he wasn’t stopping until you melted completely in his hands.

Joel Miller (The Last of Us)

Even after all these years, after all the ash, blood and grief the world had dumped at your feet, Joel Miller still looked at you like you were the last good thing left on Earth.

And tonight, he touched you like it too.

The house in Jackson was quiet, the walls still and the fireplace crackling low in the distance. Joel had returned home from patrol just hours earlier, his hands rough and cold from the snow, his body tense, his eyes tired. But the second he walked through the door and saw you curled up on the couch in nothing but one of his old flannels, your thighs peeking out and lips glossy from your nightly tea, something shifted in him. That dark intensity in his gaze sharpened, zeroing in on you like you were a meal he hadn’t had in days.

And truthfully?

He hadn’t. Not the way he needed to.

Which is exactly how you ended up like this, legs trembling around his broad shoulders, your fingers tangled in his salt-and-pepper curls as he buried his face between your thighs like a starving man at his last supper. “J-Joel…” You gasped, back arching off the bed as he moaned against your soaked heat, his tongue lapping up everything you gave him like it was nectar, his hands gripping your thighs tight, holding you open and in place.

“Shhh, darlin’.” He murmured against your skin, voice rough and low, vibrating right through your core. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere ‘til you’re shakin’ for me. You know that.”

He always said that. Every damn time.

And you always did.

Joel was obsessive in the way he worshiped you, taking his time, learning every inch of your body, every twitch, every gasp, every whispered plea. His beard scraped against the tender skin of your inner thighs and you felt it when he smiled, smug and greedy, like he could feel your pleasure in his own chest. He shifted slightly, dragging his tongue slow and deliberate, before sucking that sensitive spot in a way that made your whole body jolt.

“I-I can’t!” Your breath hitched. 

“You can, baby.” He growled, tightening his grip, his voice wrecked with hunger. “Gonna come for me. Gonna soak my fuckin’ face like a good girl, huh?” You cried out, the coil inside you snapping, unraveling as your body shook beneath him, just like he wanted. Just like he always wanted.

Joel didn’t let up. He never did. He kept going until your thighs trembled and your lungs burned from how hard you were panting. It was only when your legs started to twitch from overstimulation that he finally pulled back, mouth wet and beard slick with you, eyes dark and blown wide. He looked like a man possessed. And you looked like a goddess completely wrecked. He kissed your inner thigh reverently, gently now, almost as if apologizing for how fiercely he’d devoured you.

Then he crawled up your body, slow and deliberate until his face was hovering above yours, eyes searching yours with that same intense affection that always managed to shatter you a little. “Don’t ever get tired of that.” He rasped, pressing his lips to yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “Could do that every damn day ‘til the day I die.”

“You say that like you haven’t already been trying.” You let out a soft, breathless laugh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Damn right I am.” Joel grinned against your neck, pressing a kiss to your pulse.

Marcus Acacius (Gladiator II)

To the empire, you were his sweet delicate wife. A vision of beauty, grace and modesty, always draped in soft linen, eyes lowered in public and your voice rarely raised above a gentle whisper. The senators adored you and the noblewomen envied you.

But Marcus Acacius, Rome’s most brutal and revered general, knew the truth. He knew how you trembled in your shared bed. He knew how your soft moans sounded at midnight. He knew how you tasted when you were soaked and aching just for him.

And gods, he was addicted.

The lanterns burned low. The white marble walls of your bedchamber glowed gold in the candlelight, casting shadows that danced across their silken sheets. You sat at your vanity, brushing your hair, clad only in a thin white shift that clung to every curve. Marcus stood behind you, freshly bathed from the private spring, his broad body wrapped in a loose robe. His eyes devoured you through the mirror.

So soft. So sweet. So his.

You caught his gaze and smiled, shy and knowing. He stepped closer, large hands landing gently on your shoulders. You stilled as his lips brushed the shell of your ear.

“Lie down.”

Your breath hitched and obeyed. Marcus was slow with you. Reverent, like a man kneeling before his goddess. He pulled the thin shift over your head, letting it slip to the floor. You lay back on the cool linen sheets, your body already warm from anticipation.

He knelt between your thighs, his hands parting them with care but no hesitation. His eyes were dark with hunger. His voice, low and rough. “You don’t know what you do to me, carissima.”

You whimpered softly as his thumbs stroked your inner thighs, lips ghosting lower, breath hot on your already wet folds. Marcus kissed the inside of your knee. Then lower. Then lower still. Until his mouth found your aching dripping cunt. You cried out softly, hips jerking. But his arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place as his tongue slid through your folds with slow, deliberate strokes. Your fingers gripped the sheets.

“Marcus…”

“Shhh.” His voice was muffled, buried between your legs. “Let me taste my wife.” He licked you like a man starved, like you were the only thing he ever wanted. And maybe you were. He didn’t rush. He worshiped. He kissed, sucked and flicked his tongue over your clit until your moans filled the room, your legs trembling against his shoulders.

“You’re shaking.” He murmured against you, voice dripping with satisfaction. “You feel how wet you are for me?”

You nodded frantically, hips lifting and chasing his mouth.

“Tell me.” He growled.

“You… you make me feel so good, Marcus. I…gods, I can’t!”

“Oh, but you will.”

He grinned, lips slick with you and dove back in with even more hunger. His tongue flicked faster now, fingers spreading you open, licking deep until you were writhing, panting, with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Your thighs shook violently and then you finally broke. You came hard, gasping his name like a sacred vow.

But Marcus didn’t stop. He lapped up every drop, sucking your clit until you sobbed from the pleasure, your voice hoarse from moaning out his name. “I love how you taste.” He whispered, dragging his tongue up slowly. “I’ll never get enough of you.” 

And in that moment, as you lay boneless and quivering beneath your general, your husband, you knew the truth: Marcus Acacius may have conquered nations. But you were the only thing he would ever worship. And he worshipped you well into the night.

Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)

Marcus Moreno is a patient man. A disciplined man. A man of control. But when it comes to you? All that restraint shatters. Because he’s obsessed with you. With the way you fall apart beneath him. With the way your breath hitches when his lips graze your skin.

But most of all?

With the way you taste. It always starts the same way. A simple kiss, slow and lingering. Then another. And another. Until he’s got you spread out beneath him, his mouth trailing lower and lower. Until he’s right where he wants to be.

You whimper when he kisses the inside of your thigh, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “Marcus.” You sigh, fingers threading through his dark curls. “Please…”

He shushes you, eyes dark with hunger. “Patience, sweetheart.” Then, with a slow sinful smirk, he devours you. He loves this, loves how your thighs tremble around his head and loves how your back arches, how you cry out his name like a prayer. He lives for this. For the way you come undone, legs shaking, body writhing, completely at his mercy. And he’s not stopping. Not until you’re gasping. Not until you’re clenching your fingers in his hair, babbling, pleading and begging. Not until you’re so overstimulated that you have tears in your eyes.

Only then when you’re thoroughly wrecked and limp beneath him, does he finally lift his head, his lips glistening, his expression utterly feral. And when he leans up, pressing a slow, deep kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

He grins against your mouth. “Such a good girl.” He murmurs, voice thick with satisfaction. “Think you can give me another?” And despite the way your body still trembles you still nod.

Because Marcus Moreno?

He’s not done with you yet.

Marcus Pike (The Mentalist)

The soft glow of golden evening light spilled through the bedroom windows, casting warm lazy rays across the sheets that were still tousled from your earlier nap. The quiet hum of the city below faded into the background as your husband, Marcus Pike, leaned in the doorway, watching you stretch slowly across the bed like you were the most beautiful piece of art he’d ever laid eyes on.

His tie was already loosened, jacket tossed over the back of a chair, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. And that look on his face, soft and reverent, made your breath hitch.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked with a small, teasing smile.

“Like what?” Marcus stepped forward, slow and deliberate, the corner of his mouth twitching. 

“Like I’m about to be worshipped.”

He leaned down, bracing one knee on the edge of the bed as he brushed his knuckles gently along your cheek. “Maybe because you are.”

Your heart thudded at the low, husky tone of his voice, full of something tender, something hungry, something devoted. He kissed you then, slowly and deeply, like he had all the time in the world. The kind of kiss that melted your bones, made your skin tingle and reminded you just how safe and loved you were in his arms.

“Marcus…” You whispered, fingers curling into his shirt.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes serious but warm. “You know I could spend the rest of my life just appreciating you. Every inch. Every sigh. Every little sound you make when I touch you.” You’d been married long enough to know he meant every word. Marcus didn’t rush through intimacy, he savored it, savored you.

He was gentle but firm as he coaxed you to lie back against the pillows, his hands skimming down your sides as he took his time, memorizing every reaction you gave him. He kissed a trail down your body, murmuring soft words of praise, of adoration. His lips were warm, his stubble brushing over sensitive skin and every motion felt like worship. You gasped when he kissed your inner thigh, his breath warm and slow as he rested there, holding you like you were the center of his world.

“You always take care of me.” He murmured, pressing a reverent kiss just below your navel. “Let me take care of you tonight.” And you let him. You let him pour his love into you, every kiss and touch whispering the truth, that Marcus Pike loved his wife with every fiber of his being and that there was nowhere else he’d rather be than wrapped around you, worshiping you like you were his whole world.

And to him, you were.

Max Philips (Bloodsucking Bastards)

Marriage can change a man. At least, that’s what everyone told Max. He heard the horror stories, how the passion faded, how the excitement dulled, how men started avoiding their wives instead of worshiping them.

What a joke.

Because Max?

Max Phillips was obsessed with his wife. You were his pretty little thing, his perfect girl, his everything. And there was one part of you he loved the most.

It started like every other morning. You were barely awake, your body soft and warm against the sheets, wearing one of Max’s old t-shirts and nothing else.

Perfect.

His favorite way to wake up.

Max slid beneath the covers before you even registered what was happening. His hands pried your thighs apart, his breath hot against your skin.

"Max." You mumbled sleepily, shifting slightly. "What are you…?"

And then his tongue was on you. You gasped, your fingers clenching in the sheets as pleasure rocked through your half-asleep body. Max groaned against your heat, lapping at you like a man starving. He never got tired of this. The taste of you, the scent of you, the way your thighs tremble every time he sucked on that perfect little clit. It was everything. And Max was never satisfied.

By the time he was done with you, you were wrecked. Your body was trembling, your thighs still twitching from the aftershocks. You lay there, panting, eyes dazed as you tried to process what just happened. Max wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning down at you like the smug bastard he was. "Morning, sweetheart." He murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction.

"You’re insane." You groaned, throwing an arm over your face. 

Max chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss against your still-sensitive core, just to watch you jerk from overstimulation. "You married me, baby." He reminded you, voice husky.

And as he slid two fingers inside you, grinning at your whimper. "You knew what you were getting into."

Maxwell Lord (Wonder Woman 1984)

Maxwell Lord was a man obsessed. To the world, he was a tycoon, a businessman, a man who commanded respect and wielded power like a weapon. But behind the closed doors of his penthouse, stripped of the expensive suits and the cutthroat deals, he was just a man desperate for you. And he had no shame in showing it. His mouth was already on you, hot and eager, his grip firm on your thighs as he spread you apart. The silk sheets crumpled beneath your trembling hands, your back arching at the first slow, deliberate drag of his tongue.

"Max…"

He groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core. "You know better than to say my name like that, mi amor." He murmured, his voice a dark promise against your heat. "Not unless you want me to keep you here all night." His tongue flicked again, teasing, coaxing, tasting.

You did want that. You always wanted it. Your husband was relentless, worshiping you with a devotion that bordered on madness. It wasn’t enough for him to simply touch you, to make love to you, no, he had to devour you, to drown himself in you until he couldn’t breathe. And right now, he was starving. His hands tightened on your thighs, holding you in place as his mouth worked you over, slow and indulgent, like he had all the time in the world. He loved doing this to you. Loved feeling you unravel beneath him, loved the way you gasped and writhed and whimpered his name like a prayer.

"You taste so sweet, cariño." He groaned, his voice thick with need. "So perfect for me." Your fingers tangled in his golden hair, hips lifting, desperate for more. But Max was in control and he wasn’t going to let you rush him. Not when he could keep you on the edge for as long as he wanted. Not when making you fall apart was his favorite thing in the world.

Lucien De Leon (The Uninvited)

The estate was quiet now. The party had ended hours ago, leaving only the soft hum of cicadas and the occasional creak of floorboards beneath your bare feet. Moonlight spilled through the wide windows of your bedroom, casting silver shadows across the expensive linen sheets, catching in your hair like a halo. You were already in bed, curled beneath the silk covers, a book forgotten on your lap. But your mind wasn’t on the pages.

It was on him.

You heard him before you saw him, his measured steps down the hallway, the soft clink of his belt being undone, the rustle of his jacket as he shrugged it off. When the door opened, your eyes lifted and there he was.

Lucien.

His shirt was half-unbuttoned, his dark hair tousled from his hands, always tugging when he was stressed or when he was thinking about you, which lately, seemed like all the time. "Still awake?" He murmured, voice low and rough with something darker.

"Couldn’t sleep." You shifted onto your back, watching as he stepped into the moonlight, eyes raking over your form like you were a goddamn miracle.

Lucien crossed the room in slow, measured strides. You could feel the heat radiating off his body before he even touched you. “I saw you tonight.” He murmured as he knelt beside the bed, his hand reaching to slowly push the sheets down. “The way you looked in that dress, smiling, talking to everyone, pretending like I wasn’t five seconds from dragging you out of that ballroom.”

“You didn’t say much at the party.” You shivered under his stare, the heat in his voice licking over your skin. 

He tilted his head, his hands already trailing up your thighs, gentle and reverent. “Didn’t trust myself to.” His fingers curled beneath the hem of your nightgown, pushing it up. “You drive me fucking insane, mi amor. All night, I could barely think. All I wanted was to get you alone.”

“Lucien…” You gasped as his mouth brushed against your inner thigh, soft slow kisses that made your toes curl. 

His eyes flicked up, wild and tender all at once. “I married the most beautiful woman in this world.” He whispered. “And I will never stop worshipping her.” And with that, he buried his face between your thighs. The first stroke of his tongue was slow precise, like he was savoring you, like this wasn’t something rushed or expected. It was an offering. A ritual.

Your fingers tangled into his hair instinctively, back arching as he sucked gently on your clit, tongue circling with maddening patience. Lucien groaned against you, like he was starving, like this was what he craved most in the world.

He loved this. Loved how your thighs trembled around his face, how your hips bucked helplessly, how you whimpered his name like a prayer. He gripped your thighs tighter, pressing you down as you started to squirm, overwhelmed by the waves of heat crashing through your belly. "You always taste so fucking sweet.” He growled, voice muffled. “My pretty little wife… this is mine."

“Lucien…” Your voice was breathless, shaking, your body already close.

But he didn’t stop. If anything, he doubled down, flicking his tongue faster, rougher, his hands locking you in place as he devoured you like a man possessed. You were shaking now, legs trembling uncontrollably, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of it. You came with a cry, your entire body clenching as the world shattered into stars.

But Lucien didn’t stop. Even as you begged, soft stuttering, “too much” falling from your lips, he kept licking, moaning like he was the one being pleasured, like your shaking body beneath him only fueled his obsession.

“I’ll stop when I’ve had enough.” He murmured darkly, kissing your overstimulated folds, then licking slow and deep again. “But I’ll never get enough of you.” And you believed him. Because Lucien De Leon didn’t just love you, he worshipped you. Every inch. Every tremble. Every shattered breath.

And tonight, like always, he would ruin you, slowly, thoroughly and completely. And you’d let him.

Every. Damn. Time.

Oberyn Martell (Game of Throne)

The warm Dornish night wrapped around the palace of Sunspear like a silken embrace, the air thick with the scent of citrus and salt from the nearby sea. The moon hung high, casting silver light through the open balcony doors, the soft billowing of sheer curtains whispering against the stone. But inside the grand bedchamber, there was only heat.

Oberyn Martell lay between your thighs, eyes dark with hunger, lips curled into a lazy, sinful smile as he pressed a teasing kiss to the inside of your knee. His large hands held your legs open with ease, fingers tracing idle patterns against your flushed skin. "Look at you." He murmured, his voice like honeyed wine, deep and thick with desire. "So beautiful like this, my love. Spread out before me like a feast meant only for my lips."

You shivered beneath his touch, your breath hitching as he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss against your thigh, dangerously close to where you needed him most. Your fingers tangled in the silk sheets, a desperate whimper escaping your lips as he deliberately avoided the place where you ached for him. "Oberyn." You gasped, hips shifting in silent pleas.

He hummed in amusement, his nose brushing against your inner thigh as he nipped at the sensitive skin, dragging his teeth along it before soothing the mark with his tongue. "Patience, sweet wife." He chided, though his own restraint was hanging by a thread. "I plan to savor you tonight."

And savor you he did.

His mouth descended upon you, his tongue flicking against your most sensitive spot with slow, deliberate strokes. The first contact sent a jolt of pleasure through your spine, your back arching off the bed as a breathless cry fell from your lips.

Oberyn groaned at the taste of you, gripping your thighs tighter as he buried himself deeper, drinking in every sound you made as if it were the sweetest melody. He licked, kissed, and sucked with expert precision, his tongue swirling in lazy circles before dipping lower, teasing, devouring.

Your fingers found their way into his dark curls, tugging desperately as the coil of pleasure within you tightened with every stroke of his tongue. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure crashing through your body.

"Oberyn, gods, please!" Your plea was met with a low chuckle but he didn't stop. If anything, he doubled his efforts, his hands pressing your hips down to keep you from writhing away from the overwhelming pleasure. He wanted you shaking beneath him, wanted to hear his name fall from your lips like a prayer, wanted to ruin you with nothing but his mouth.

And when you finally shattered, when your body trembled and arched and you cried out his name like it was the only thing you knew, Oberyn didn’t stop. He licked you through it, drawing out every last tremor until you were boneless beneath him, your body twitching with aftershocks.

Only then did he pull away, his lips glistening with evidence of his devotion as he crawled up your body, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. "Perfect." He murmured, voice thick with pride and desire. "But I am not yet done with you, my love." And with that, the night stretched on, filled with whispered praises, gasping breaths, and the relentless worship of a man utterly devoted to his beautiful wife.

Pero Tovar (The Great Wall)

The evening crept in quietly, the golden light fading behind the hills and casting a soft glow through the cabin windows. The fire crackled gently in the hearth, and the cozy warmth of their little home wrapped around them like a thick quilt. Pero had been watching you for a while, admiring the way your hair spilled over your shoulders as you finished the last few rows of his sweater. His heart, often guarded and rough around the edges, softened completely in your presence.

And now, he couldn’t resist you any longer. He set the knitted sweater aside carefully, eyes smoldering with a kind of hunger that only you could inspire. "Lie back for me, cariño." He murmured, voice low and deep with promise.

“Now?” You blinked up at him, lips parting slightly as a soft, knowing smile played on your mouth. 

He leaned in, brushing his nose against yours. “Now…” He repeated, his fingers already slipping under the hem of your dress, coaxing you gently to lie back across your bed.

You complied as you sank into the pillows. Pero wasted no time, kissing a path down your stomach, worshipping your body with every press of his lips. He loved how soft you were, how you trembled when his stubble grazed your inner thighs, how you sighed his name like a prayer. “Relax, mi vida.” He whispered, spreading your legs with reverent care. “Let me take care of you.” And he did, thoroughly.

His strong arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you steady as he indulged in the sweet taste of the woman who made a hardened soldier like him feel utterly undone. Every flick of his tongue was precise, every kiss intentional and it wasn’t long before your breathing grew shallow, your hips subtly lifting to meet his mouth.

“Pero, oh gods…Pero, I… I can’t…” You tangled your fingers in his hair, gasping as waves of pleasure built and rolled through you. 

But he didn’t stop. He was lost in you. Obsessed with how you responded to his touch, the way your thighs trembled against his cheeks, how your voice shook when you whimpered his name. He was a man on a mission. And his mission was to worship every inch of his pretty wife until you were trembling beneath him, completely undone and thoroughly loved.

And when you finally reached that peak, body quivering, hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your cries, Pero held you gently through every wave, his own name echoing in your voice like a song. When you collapsed back into the pillows, boneless and breathless, Pero kissed the inside of your knee, then your hip, then your belly before crawling up beside you and wrapping you tightly in his arms.

You were still catching your breath when you turned to him, flushed and glowing. “You’re insatiable.” You whispered with a sleepy smile.

“Only for you, mi amor. Always for you.” Pero chuckled, brushing a damp strand of your from your face. 

Reed Richards (Fantastic 4)

Reed had always been a man of intellect, of science, of logic. But when it came to you? All reason was lost. It wasn’t just love, it was obsession. An insatiable hunger that had nothing to do with food and everything to do with the way your body trembled beneath him when he had his head buried between your thighs.

Tonight was no different. Your fingers tangled into his salt and pepper curls, back arching as his wicked mouth latched onto the sensitive bundle of nerves that had you gasping out his name.

“Reed, fuck!”

He groaned against you, his large hands pinning down your trembling thighs, refusing to let you squirm away from his torturous pace. “You taste so fucking sweet.” He murmured, dragging his tongue in a slow languid motion, savoring you like you were the finest thing he had ever had.

And to him? You were.

His brilliant mind, capable of unraveling the universe’s deepest mysteries, was reduced to one singular thought, his neverending devotion to you. His pretty little wife. His obsession. His addiction. “More.” His voice was hoarse, desperate, his grip tightening around your hips. “Give me more, sweetheart.”

As if you had any choice. He devoured you whole, until your body shuddered, until your breath hitched and your nails raked against his scalp. And yet, even as you came undone beneath him, he wasn’t done with you. Not even close.

Reed pulled back only for a moment, darkened eyes drinking in the sight of you, flushed and wrecked, completely at his mercy. “I hope you don’t think I’m finished, darling.” His lips curled into a smirk, glossy with your slick. “We’ve barely even started.” And with that, he dove right back in.

Tim Rockford (Merge Mansion)

Tim Rockford had a problem. A serious, all-consuming, mind-numbing problem and it was you. More specifically, your pussy. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t get enough. It didn’t matter how many times he had you, he was always aching for more. Always desperate to taste you, to bury himself between your thighs and ruin you in ways that made you sob his name.

And tonight was no different.

You had barely crawled into bed when Tim was already reaching for you, big hands sliding up your thighs, warm and insistent. "Tim." You murmured, blinking sleepily as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh. "What are you…"

"You know what, sweetheart." He muttered against your skin.

A small gasp left your lips when he nipped at the soft flesh, dragging his mouth higher, closer to where you were already warm and aching for him. "You don’t have to." You breathed, even as your legs parted without hesitation.

"Yeah, I do." Tim huffed a low, wicked laugh. Because it wasn’t a choice, not anymore. Not when you were already so soft, so wet for him, just from a few teasing kisses. Not when the scent of you had him damn near losing his mind. He didn’t waste time, didn’t tease and didn’t make you beg for it. No, he devoured you, spreading you open with his fingers and dragging his tongue through your slick folds like a man starved.

"Oh, my God!" Your hands flew to his hair, fingers curling against his scalp as your back arched off the bed.

Tim groaned into you, lapping at your swollen, sensitive clit, slow and purposeful. He could feel you trembling already, thighs twitching against his shoulders, but he wasn’t stopping. Not until he had you sobbing for him. Not until you were shaking and soaking his face, pulling at his hair, begging him for something you couldn’t even put into words.

"You taste so fucking sweet, baby." He murmured, his voice thick with hunger. "Could stay here all night." And he meant it because Tim Rockford had a problem. And he had no fucking plans to fix it.

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[hirachat]

sometimes i wake up in a cold sweat thinking ab what could have been….

back to bed i go,,,, but imagine,,,,,,

[cat-chilling-out]

Need to get the miraculous thoughts out

[nezz-cringe-crib]

no i can't be normal about things i have to turn it into death note. here's michael L as dubbed by @kiyomitakada thank you for the stunning pun i'm stealing it now

[lukazade]

Sleepover with two puny mortals that you're in love with (and everything can go right).

Lowkey based on a fanfic I was writing, but as usual I haven't the confidence to post it! Yeah~

Had this in the drafts for months,,,, figured I'd finish it up now so it's done. I like to kinda have some Finished art on the page hahahaha

[bestjeanistmonster]

this is what it feels like to chill w/ your friends on a discord vc btw

(Mouse sona and creature sona belong to @maliinka and @kingprinceleo respectively!)