#hazy lands

[skogs-frun]

New year, same photos. . . Gröna XIII. Photo taken by me.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[awe-24]

hd remake of hello 2 all good day ohpe so haha

[mytrainline]

i feel like, rpgs going forward, especially fantasy ones, should have some kind of name generator/ suggestion box for your character’s origin & culture in character creation.

like, sure you can look up names online + theres some great name generators out there, but if you’re new to a world with its own lore and culture, it would be great to know beforehand where their names took inspirations from

like, imagine going into a game where you choose your usual character creation things, and then you plop into a world with the name like theobald mcenglishton, with your character origin apparently inspired by old rennaisance italy, and the setting is inspired by colonial spain

[bluestempigeons]

I'm slowly coming to accept that every pigeon show roadtrip in the western US will also turn into visiting at least a few national parks

[smilepebble]

im curious what's everyone's favorite dungeon(s) in each pmd game

[afieldinengland]

can’t stop thinking about the form of sacrifice specifically practiced in robin redbreast. the cyclical nature of it is utterly horrifying

[ladythespera]

severe sleep deprivation 🤝 hypoglycemia ultimate tiredness combo

[kaykay-13]

“He sees a harbour full of lights, and he’s not impressed. How is he to be impressed by something he sees every day? He lets his gaze wander, and turns to the tumultuous sea, the ocean waves rising and falling, each crest like the wane of the moon — the moonlight flickers just like the stars, just like the million lanterns filling the sky, each one a fervent wish.

His legs dangle off the cliff, a little dance with danger — distantly he wonders how it would feel like to fall off and crash into the sea. Would Chongyun join him? Or would Chongyun look at him in horror, a hand reaching out but not quite grasping?

And as his gaze wanders, from harbour to sea to sky, so does his mind. From home to adventure to wishes. What is his wish then? What does he want so badly, that he looks to adepti for validation?

Chongyun, he thinks. I want Chongyun. 

But that’s ridiculous. He can’t yearn like this— shouldn’t desire like this. He has Chongyun, right here, right now, right beside him.

His eyes drift, and land on its prize: despite the hazy glow of a million lights, Chongyun still shines the brightest in his periphery.

He chokes on the image, feels it well up in his throat, like an ocean swell ready to drown him.

Chongyun, Chongyun, Chongyun.”

[scoop16]

El Bravado feat. El Dorado & Bravo Hops, Land Grant Brewing, Columbus, OH…6.8% abv

[theodore-sallis]

“Cry of the Native!” Fear (Vol. 1/1970), #16.

Writer: Steve Gerber; Penciler: Val Mayerik; Inker: Sal Trapani; Colorist: Petra Goldberg; Letterer: Artie Simek

[skogs-frun]

Morgondimma XVII. Photo taken by me.

[fairyhub]

Neteyam + size difference

𓆩♡𓆪— neteyam x fem human reader.

𓆩♡𓆪— warnings: aged up characters, neteyam is 19 n reader is 18, major height difference, tummy bulging, reader is referred to as tiny small etc but it means nothing about her size, she’s just way smaller compared to him, uhh praise + little degradation (one word), neteyam is fucking huge

𓆩♡𓆪 — Imagine Neteyam fucking you, his cute human girlfriend, in the air. He’s already two times your height and way larger than you, so picking you up, legs hanging over his arms as he fucks into you way way too easy…

𓆩♡𓆪— okay i swear this is the last one for tonight.. maybe

He's holding you multiple feet above the ground, thick cock destroying your tiny pussy with every thrust. You looked like a little doll against him, his huge arms holding your legs spread apart as he thrusted up into you.

His eyes hold a glint of darkness as he stills his movements, tightening the hold he had under your knees before turning you into his personal fleshlight. Your loud moans were music to the na'vi's ears, having full control of your small body as he bounced you on his cock.

He was way too big, cock reaching only halfway into you yet still managing to reach so deep. You looked down to see Neteyam’s tip protruding against the skin of your stomach. He groaned “holy shit, look at that, you’re taking me so well baby”

You moaned loudly, head resting flat against his broad chest as you cried out his name. He lifted you roughly off and back onto his cock with ease, the angle allowing him to perfectly hit your g spot before reaching your stomach.

Your small hands shakily grab onto the ones holding you, tears of pure bliss running down your cheeks. Words couldn’t begin to describe how you felt, your mewls and whimpers being enough to fill the na’vi with pride.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me, such an obedient little slut” he growls out, attempting to reach even deeper in you than he already was. You could do nothing more than cry out his name, your mind becoming hazy and your eyes losing their focus.

Neteyam thinks that it’s the greatest sight, your lips parted with your eyes rolling back, trying your best to sputter out little moans of “f-fuck.” He could feel his own breathing pick up, his body leaning back as he looked down to where his cock was rutting into you.

The na'vi's pace became frantic, bouncing you roughly onto his cock as he chased his high while bringing you to yours. “Gonna cum for me sweet girl?” He grunted, feeling your arousal starting to run down his thighs. “Fucking hell baby, you’re so damn wet.. come on, give it to me.”

“N-ne, ‘m coming” you cried, body quivering with a strangled noise leaving your throat. Neteyam exhaled heavily, enjoying the way your back arched off of him and your toes curled. Allowing yourself to be consumed by pleasure.

Your body jerked slightly with each of his continuous thrusts, clenching down on him as you heard his pants become louder, the sound of his racing heart filling your ear. The na’vi held you down firmly on his cock, unknowingly forcing an extra inch into you (the sight of your bulging stomach making your eyes widen).

Neteyam’s body trembled, his abs tensing and face contorting into one of pleasure as he came in you, swelling your belly with his constant flow of cum.

He stayed in that position for a good minute, trying to trap his seed deep inside you. You were lifted off of him right after, not bothering to put you down as he knew your poor legs were too limp to stand. Instead you were turned to face him, your legs falling limply at his sides and you buried your face in his chest.

Neteyam smirked, hands secured under your ass as he leaned into your ear, voice husky as he chuckled “aw I’m sorry, did i fuck you out to much baby?” he cooed, kissing the side if your head before landing a playful slap onto your ass.

You yelped, looking like an angry puppy as you huffed against his skin. “There she is” he grinned, noticing the way you tried to hide your smile. “Let’s get you cleaned up yeah?” He spoke, making his way to his bed with you in his arms.

[polaroidblog]

“polaroid – un blog alla radio” – S21E32

“polaroid – un blog alla radio” – S21E32

Bentrovate e bentrovati a una nuova puntata del podcast di “polaroid – un blog alla radio”, la trasmissione in onda ogni settimana da Bologna sulle frequenze di NEU Radio. Dalla Svezia alla West Coast, passando per Tokyo e Berlino, nonché un paio di volte in Francia, ecco a voi la consueta oretta di novità indiepop e indie rock, senza trascurare gli immancabili brindisi, insieme a Enzo…

[nexusnyx]

from eden

Joel Miller x f!Reader [3.3k] Summary: The nightmares left when you started sharing Joel's bed, but that never meant they were gone. When you have your first episode in his presence, Joel's right there. He's there, all around you, inside you, comforting you. It's so different than all the other desperate times you two became one that you wonder how much of it is meant to soothe you, and how much was a need of his.

— A/n 📝This was written because I had a nightmare and no Joel to comfort me, so I'm being self-indulgent to the max. You're welcome. Reblogs and comments make all the difference. — Warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors dni. | 🏷️ age gap, established relationship, morning sex, comfort sex, nightmares, soft!Joel, making out, dirty talking, fingering, missionary sex, prone bone, overstimulation, creampie (practice safe sex y'all).

ㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | read on ao3

Before you, his sleep was non-existent. Restless, a black out, a body function that hit him when Joel reached his limit. It was achieved through scotch, overworking himself, and sometimes, when the date offered no other alternative, pills.

Now, Joel sleeps — okay. He rests.

Drool on his pillow, body waking up with the feeling of new, sometimes even going as far as dreaming. It's insanity, and although he's only had it for months, Joel's terrified of how addicted to it he is.

No matter how great the sleep is, it's still light. Always will be — there's no deep sleep at the end of the world, and when you stir in his arms, Joel wakes up in a second, only to notice this is nothing like the other times; he regains consciousness and is taken by your panic like a cold shower, and in a second, he's alert.

"Baby — hey, hey," he whispers your name, calling you back to him. "Wake up." He repeats your name louder, and you awake in a pained gasp, which echoes in him. "Hey — baby. C'mere."

At first, the shock stops you from abiding by his words.

All you can feel is the hot peng in your chest still echoing from the images passing like a movie before your eyes, the hot ache enveloping all your middle from the sense of alert danger alert, but Joel is patient as you breathe through those seconds. His palms rub both your arms, and he keeps his distance, his breath steady, his eyes set on you firm despite their hazy sleepiness. Once, Joel could barely sleep heavily enough to get rest, and now, he woke with sleep still clouding the edges of his visions.

Because of you. Because of — "Baby," he whispers again. This time, his voice lands somewhere conscious and your gaze meets his. "There you are." His digits apply gentle pressure on your arms to see if your body has relaxed enough to be guided by him and sure enough, you feel the slight pull as a port and sink your anchor into him.

Your upper body sags on his, falling on his touch.

You wished for radio silence. For something to come and take away the pain, the lingering feeling of those worries your subconscious manifested as horrible pictures to dissipate.

And it comes. In the shape of Joel's hand gripping your nape and his other hand wrapping around your waist to pull you even closer, comfort arrives.

"Shhhhh." Only when he shushes you the sound of your whimpering register — you're crying. Wetting his sleeping shirt. Still shaking. "I've got you."

He repeats those three precious words more times until you've calmed down. However long that takes. All you know is that one moment you can barely think beyond what you saw in those dreams and next, you're wiping your cheeks on your forearms and looking at Joel through your wet lashes.

He feels your eyes on him, turns around and flicks the lamp by the bed on.

Faint yellow light illuminates his features amidst all the darkness, and you breathe.

"You're alright," it slips out. You almost cry again, biting at your bottom lip since you're unable to bite your own words back, or swallow them now that they're out in the open.

Joel's brows crease in confusion for only a moment, and then it hits him. It was about him. "I'm alright." The claim erases every ounce of weight left in your chest. "C'mere," he pulls you closer, and you take the invite.

Stradling his lap is your favorite thing, even if you're still shy to do it; the level of desire and attraction you have for Joel is embarrassing, the effect he has on you and how desperate you are for every crumb of his touch and affection should make you ashamed. All it does is make you blush, or occasionally stutter.

Joel takes it all with a good heart. He adjusts your body in his lap, resting his face on your shoulder, and then breathes in deeply.

Breathes out.

After blissful moments like this, he asks. "Feeling better?"

With you, always. "Yeah." You want to look at him, but his neck is where Joel smells the most like himself, and it makes you a bit drunk. Sleep is long gone from your body — that's what a few touches from him can do. "You always know how to help."

Joel chuckles and the huff of breath tickles your neck. "All I did was shush and hold you."

"I know. That's perfect."

Joel would ask if you want to talk about the nightmares, but no one does. He starts petting your hair. "Think you can get back to sleep?"

You shake your head.

His head tilts. What do you want, then? "Still thinking about it?"

His question makes you double-check, and — no. You shake your head. "Just..." Instead of answering, you show him.

A roll of your hips, and the surprised groan it pulls out of him makes the hint of a smile show on your face.

He put you on his lap. That's all you needed to go from asleep to wide awake. Or at least, I want you awake.

"Fuck—," Joel's fingers dig deeper and hard into your waist. "'s what so?"

You nod. "Can we?"

"Can we what?" Joel asks, because while few people know it, he's a little shit.

"You know what," you whine. "Wanna feel you. Please?"

The way you whine brings out something borderline animalistic in Joel.

It took him by surprise every single time — it was a hook you had, an energetic and magnetic pull that turned Joel towards you almost on instinct.

Joel goes from being half-asleep to reeling about all the ways he wants to taste you. It should be over by now, the stupid flutter in his stomach whenever you kiss him like this, devour his oxygen in a starved and greedy way, but they only amplify somehow.

All he does is kiss you for a while.

Joel sighs into your mouth and licks around your soft whimpers. He feels overwhelmed — with only a few rolls of your hips and the desperate tightening of your legs on both of his sides and he's hard as a rock. Straining against his briefs, wetting a spot on it because you're rocking against him and all but melting against his hand on your hair.

When he pulls back for air, Joel has to just look.

He grabs a fistful of your hair by the nape and pulls your head back as gently as he can — you mewl. Whine coming out scratchy, on the back of your throat, and he sort of smiles.

It's on his face. He can feel the tugging on his lips at the sight in front of him. There's the faintest notion of light coming through the windows, the early signs of night dissipating, and they illuminate you just right. Soft, royal blue lights illuminate the contour of your cheekbones, and Joel needs to see more.

Wants to. He lets go of your hair and tugs on your shirt—no, on his shirt, taking it off with your help.

Usually, Joel's talkative from the start. He discovered you have a thing for his voice early on and lost the ability to shut the fuck up ever since. Your words, not his.

Usually, it's not this, though—not this slow, or this reverent.

One of Joel's hands keeps running through your body, smoothing out all the exposed skin, and he can tell by your body that the touch is relaxing.

Then, you break the silence by leaning your upper body, closing the space between your heads. "Joel," you whisper in his mouth. "Wanna suck you off."

The one thing you love doing to distract yourself—he'd allow it, but something's tugging at him to offer more than just distraction.

Joel wants to offer you comfort.

He closes the gap and kisses your eager and waiting lips, tasting you again before answering, "Not now, baby."

You whine, squeezing your thighs around him. "Why not?"

He remembers something and runs his hands over your ass as he talks, massaging and squishing the flesh. "You told me I could touch you as much as I wanted to, remember?" He gets his fingers under the ban of your panties, squeezing harder. "On our night, you told me I could always do you like I wanted, right baby?" Joel seals his lips on yours again in a harsh kiss as both of you recall the night. The first night. The one you two deemed 'your' night. He pulls back. "Was so filthy that night, baby—"

"Wanted you for so long—" and shit, that gets to him.

Joel spins both of you around and lays your back to the mattress again, rocking his hips with yours. "Dunno what you see in me, baby—" you poked him hard on his side, mean and pointy and hard, and Joel looks up to see you frowning at him. Right—no shit-talking himself in your presence. He chuckles, and grabs your chin, tilting your head up so he licks a stripe down your jugular. "My bad — 'm thinking about how fuckin' lucky I was and started off on the wrong end of it."

"Damn right you did — oh." The gasp you let out loud is matched by his cursing.

Joel pushed your panties to the side, taking advantage of the lack of clothes in way, and all he wanted was to check. Instead, he gets his fingers soaked in all of your wetness. Just from kissing. Just for him. "All for me, baby? Jesus fuckin' Christ." Joel runs two, three fingers between your folds, wetting his digits before he starts thumbing your clit. "I love your mouth on me, y'know that. Always get So messy. Do it just like — I like it. But I just wanna see you feel good right now."

"Joel."

He had no idea where it came from, but his brain paints the picture for him.

Your eyes wide, twitching with fear.

It'd been a while since he saw that. Matter-of-factly, Joel was sure now he'd never seen that expression on you before. He would know — the long days Joel spent cataloging ever line, wrinkle, freckle on your body; he was no stranger to your nature. Joel walked into your deepest and darkest woods, and whatever nightmare woke you up today, it was a new storm brewing.

You're alright, you had said.

Joel sinks his fingers inside you as he sinks his mouth on your neck, seeking comfort in you at the same beat as he's trying to offer it.

You clench around him, and Joel sighs when your nails dig at his back. It's not just his voice you like. Joel stops thinking about all the reasons why you could be afraid and focuses on making you forget there's a world to fear. "Like my fingers, don't ya?" he rasps out, inching his face back so he can share the same breath as you.

"So thick," you babble out, thighs spreading wider for him.

Joel wasted many hours in front of mirrors convincing himself he was past the futilities of caring about appearance, attraction, and things of the such. However, all you needed to do was this:

"Joel, oh god, Joel," like a prayer. Eyes closed, rolling at the back of your head, like a surrender. The way you forced them back open just to look at him, and your mouth gaped open — Joel could feel the lust oozing off of you. "So fuckin' handsome, Joel. You look so good fucking me."

He growls, pulsing his fingers in a curve inside of you, abusing the spot he knows to be carved only to break your mind. Designed to make you see stars.

"So flatterin'," he laughs, sucking on your abused lips. "You make me feel handsome," he confesses, milking the trembling in your body that he recognizes quite well. "That's it — let it all go for me, baby."

Your first orgasm cums in a silent scream, as you let his fingers guide you into white bliss.

Joel moans unabashedly as you ride it out. He kisses your jaw since your lips are too busy hanging open, frozen around the letters of his name.

"Joel—too much, too much," you cry out, and he takes out his fingers from inside. He guides them to your mouth, and you part your lips. So obedient it drives him nuts.

"Lick 'em clean," he orders softly. He watches you do it, and imagines it's his cock inside of his fingers, but he has to prioritize now. He wants you in that way he knows it drives you wild — the way it pulls at your animalistic instincts and gets you screaming into the pillow. "Turn around, baby, c'mon."

It's like you know.

You do. Your eyes widen for a second and you moan for him before readjusting your body under him.

He grabs his own pillow to position underneath your hips when you lay with your belly down, settles his legs outside of yours and does his best not to drop his whole weight on you just yet.

"More, more," you whine for him. You want more of his weight — lord knows why, but you enjoy being smothered by him. Joel gives you just a little more and pulls your hair away from your face so he look at you. "Please don't tease me."

He wanted to. God, Joel really wanted to be strong — and young — enough to tease you until you were crying; sometimes, when he was rested enough, when you riled him up just right, when the adrenaline was high, or when something clicked and the air sizzled with a tension between you two, then he could.

Joel could make you cum two, or three times, before he put it in.

Other times, you were both starving for it.

He positioned himself at your entrance and pushed just the head in, wishing he was less riled up, but finding comfort that you were right there with him.

"Joel," you beg.

He smiles, and slides it all the way in. It's so wet, and so tight, and he's so, so fucked.

He praises your name. Catches his breath on your sweaty shoulder, and sucks on the back of your neck.

When you whine for more, this time, he truly has no words.

All Joel does is enjoy the way you're a mess with him.

He starts at a slow pace, pulling out the way out so he can enjoy the drag of it getting back inside. He does that until his arms are aching with the effort of keeping himself upright, and then he's lowering himself further, enjoying how much louder you get.

"Tell me if it's too much," he pleas in your ear.

"Faster, need it faster," is all you have to say back to him.

Joel abides. He gives it to you just how you want it, and he knows you're about to cum again before you start blabbering about it.

"Oh, god—'m gonna, Joel—right there—"

"Here, hm?" He bucks his hips harder, and is rewarded with your moans getting higher. "Fuckin' love findin' your sport, baby. Clenching — so fuckin' tight around me."

"'m gonna cum —"

"Oh, I know baby — clenchin' so fuckin' hard around me. Do it." He grabs your hair again and tells himself to hold it back. "Cum around my cock. Show me how bad — you love — when I give this pussy — what it deserves."

It's a mess of tangled libs and sweat from then on.

You convulse around Joel, your whole body trembling. With thighs still shaking, Joel pulls out and flips you around so he can see your face. He lines up and cups your face with the other hand, "Can I, baby?"

You nod with tears streaming down your face. "Please," it's only a whisper. "Please use me. Wanna—"you push your hips down, and Joel sinks it all the way in, making both of you moan. "Yes. Need your cum, too — need it so much."

Joel was teetering on the edge when he started fingering you and watched pleasure take over you. The minute that thin layer of sweat started covering your curves, he wanted to paint your back in his release. Wanted to bury himself to the hilt inside of you.

So he does.

Joel brackets your face between his forearms, and looks you in the eyes as he fucks into you. Not for the first time, he looks deep into you — switches his gaze between the place where your bodies connect to your face, and it's in your silent plea of his name that Joel loses himself.

He sees you starting to lose it — his sides are carved and marked, painted in red by your clawing and scratching, and he knows you're overstimulated from orgasms so close to each other, so Joel knows it'll be easy to do what he loves.

Make you cry out of pleasure.

When he feels his balls tightening, Joel starts to take longer thrusts to make his pelvis stimulate your clitoris at the same time as his hips meet yours. He lets out a loud moan at the feeling of your walls constricting, and, "'m gonna cum, baby, fuckin' hell—"

"Do it, do it do it, Joel, please—"

"Fuck, beg more. Beg."

The litany of pleas falling from your mouth is drawn out in white noise when Joel cums harder than in a long time, spilling hot and deep inside of you. Filling you up a lot. Fuck—he cums so much that the aftershocks last for minutes; precious time that he spends caressing your hair and enjoying your legs trembling in spasms of sensitivity.

Joel grunts a lot. To pull out it's the hardest — your whine gets him to shush and coo, "Shhhh, 's okay baby, 's okay." He peppers your face in kisses to replace from the sudden emptiness. "'m here."

"Don't leave."

"Won't," he licks under your jaw and gets out from on top of you. Grabs the closest piece of clothing to clean between your thighs and to get rid of most of the mess, then throws it far away for the two of you to deal with in some hours.

When he pulls you to his chest, Joel feels content.

He can feel your heart beating. The steady, strong pulse soothing into something calm.

With both chests touching, Joel recognizes when your breathings harmonize.

He smiles, wondering if you already fell asleep.

You haven't. "You're such a dream, Joel." The words are whispered against his chest, where your lips are. Over the sternum of his collarbone, touching it feather-light. The words make crawl through his skin and as soon as they make contact with his ribcages, they start growing there. A dream.

He understood the feeling. You were a dream. He hugs you tighter, wishing he burns this tender blue-lit moment in his mind to always come back to when he needs comfort. (When you're not around.)

"You're a dream, too, baby."

For a second, he wonders if you heard it. Then, he feels it.

A smile on his skin.

A dream or not, you two are in the same haze. That's all he needs. Let him sleep for good if it's like this — with you. In your arms.

🏷️ @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @earthtocharlene — @levylovegood — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @sanzusmile —@yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 💖

⚠️ if anyone being tagged would like to not be, just let me know in my inbox��(which you can also use to talk to me about all the appeals of Joel Miller with his hair slicked back. Just saying hehe.

[chosovixen]

NSFW!!

your roommate, iwaizumi always has a temper by the end of the day. his clients are such a drag, and he hates dealing with the ones that are always so talkative, but money is money, so he’d withstand anything to get his rewards. aside from the money, he loves getting off of work if that meant he'd get to see your pretty face. iwaizumi has always had feelings for you but never wanted to admit it, and he had doubts. he thought you were out of his league and opted for being friends with benefits to spare his feelings. 

iwaizumi was having one of those days again. this time the client would brush up against him and laugh way too hard at his unfunny jokes. she probably was just flirting, but it was the most annoying experience of his life. he already had someone on his mind and couldn’t wait to leave. 

after stepping into the apartment, he had expected to be showered in affection, but nothing, absolute silence and stillness. iwaizumi calls out to you and gets nothing in response. he found it weird since you were always home at this time. he takes off his shoes at makes his way toward the living room. there you were, laid out on the couch—stomach flat against it while your legs stuck out behind you. iwaizumi immediately noticed your tini tiny skirt, which made your ass checks poke out just a bit. he could only laugh to himself, slowly creeping over towards the couch. you never heard him coming with how the music blared in your ears through your earbuds. he stands above you for a moment watching your fingers moving vigorously across your keyboard. his eyes trailed down your body and landed on your perfect little ass. he bit his lip as he watched you subtly move your hips against the cushion, laced panties finally revealing themselves. 

“shit,” he muttered, feeling his jeans tighten with each moment passing.

he rubbed himself through the fabric just until he was hard enough. then once he pulled down his jeans and underwear along with it, he quickly climbed above you while flipping your skirt up—careful not to put his full weight on you as he straddled you slightly from behind. 

you jumped in surprise, taking one earbud out and turning your head delicately over your shoulder to see what was happening, but then you felt a large hand rest on your ass—rubbing softly at the dewy skin. 

“iwa?”

“yeah?”

“you okay?” you asked.

“mhmm,” he hummed and pulled your panties to the side. silence filled the air as you could now see what he was up to. you watched carefully as he spat into his hand and then smoothed it over his shaft. the sight alone made you clench around nothing and bite your lip in anticipation. iwaizumi‘s eyes met yours and flashed you a flirtatious grin, you wanted to return one, but instead, your face scrunched in pleasure and pain as his thick cock began to split you open. your tight walls could feel each and every vein as the huge tip plugged deep into your core.

“shit, o-oh fuck~” you moaned, head falling forward and mind going a bit hazy. iwa chuckled at your reaction and positioned himself better on the couch so he could fuck you more easily. 

it felt like the air had left your lungs when he had dragged his length all the way out of you before slowly pushing back it. your mouth hung open as you tried to focus on not coming so quickly. iwa repeated his actions a few more times before it was unbearably for the both of you. he shimmed closer so that you could take him deeper, and you yelped a bit when the tip hit your g-spot. 

“geez, look at your greedy little cunt sucking me in,” he teased. hips flush against yours, he fucked into you, watching your slick coat his cock completely. 

“you’re s-so fucking deep, ughh, i’m gonna cum,” your eyes rolled back slightly as his cock continued to graze your sweet spot with each thrust. “shit shit shit. fuck me just like that.” you demand, voice now going hoarse. 

iwaizumi could feel your tender pussy pulsate around him, your arms franticly moved behind you to push against his hips—possibly to slow him down, but he quickly swatted them away and grinned. his hips snapped roughly against yours, and there was no possible way for him to reach any deeper than he already was. 

“fuck, i’m gonna cum, please, i’m gonna cum,” you cried, whole body shaking as you couldn’t hold it in anymore—orgasm ripping through you like a hurricane. iwaizumi never slowed as he continued to fuck your tired pussy. your whines and cries for mercy didn’t seem to affect him as he began to reach his own high. 

“fuck, oh fuck,” he cussed, cock violently twitching inside you.

“please iwa. i-i can’t,” you sobbed, soft tears starting to ruin your mascara. 

“hold on baby, shit,” he sighed. “i’m almost there.”

you thought to bury your head into the cushions to endure the overstimulation, but that idea quickly left your pretty little head when you felt iwa pulling you back up by your hair and hooking his arm around your neck. his buff biceps right against your throat as he squeezed gently. 

“you want me to cum in this tight little pussy?” he asked, lips pressed so close to your ear you couldn’t pretend not to hear him. he bit at the skin softly and awaited your answer.

“yes, yes. please come in my pussy. come anywhere, please,” you begged, now beginning to choke as he squeezed onto your neck tighter, fucking into you harder once hearing those filthy requests. 

he gave you one last good thrust before his hips stilled against yours. you were sure you’d end up with a bruise with how he gripped you in the headlock. your tummy began to feel full, his warm load spurting inside of your aching cunt. when iwaizumi’s breathing steadied, he sighed and slowly began to pull out. the feeling alone made you whine, and when he had fully pulled out—he watched as his cum leaked out of your hole and down your pussy, slightly wetting the surface below you. 

“fucking hell, look at that,” he said, reaching down to scoop up his cum, shoving it back into your warmth, and making you hiss. 

“stop, it’s sensitive,” you pouted while looking back at him, and he shook his head before pulling his cum coated fingers out and quickly wiping them on your ass.

“hey!”

“hey, nothing. i’m gonna go shower,” he said, kissing your cheek and then getting up. you nodded, and before he could completely disappear, you shouted for him. he stopped dead in his tracks before turning to you and giving you a questioning look.

“want to talk about your day when you’re done?”

“sure,” he smiled and turned back to head towards the shower. 

iwaizumi has always liked talking to you, even if it wasn’t about work. it was easy and free. he liked being around you—smelling your scent on his clothes, and he liked when you’d cook for him without him ever asking. even if you two never woke up in the same bed, he had always wondered what it was like. everything reminded him of you, and he was content with you not being his—or so he’d let you believe.