OMG not Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls coming on at work and me automatically thinking of listening to the City of Angels soundtrack with Javi and slow dancing with him, possibly feeling overwhelmed and him crying when the music swells cause he’s thinking of the film, fuck I need this in fic form.
Thinking about the time I tangled my fingers in my date’s jacket lapels and pulled him in firmly, smirking when his eyes went wide and then slid my hand up his chest to curl around the nape of his neck and hold him in place while I kissed him.
Thinking about how his knees went weak and he gasped against my mouth and his whole body swayed into me, the loveliest shudder running down his spine when I scratched my nails gently through his hair and against his scalp.
Thinking about how stunned he looked when I pulled back, how he whispered fuck and swallowed hard, eyes heavily lidded and lips wet from my mouth.
Thinking about the way he was unsteady when he walked back to his car and texted me later that he couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss….
Write a story that your protagonist hears through the walls. Are they listening to neighbors, or room mates? Can the protagonist investigate or can they only listen? Other than what is said, what sounds are made ( crashing pans, creaking beds, doors opening/closing)?
LET ME TELL EVERYONE ABOUT ACTUAL BROOKLYNITES – NAY, ACTUAL NEW YORKERS – STEVE ROGERS AND BUCKY BARNES
• Have you ever met a New Yorker outside of midtown who doesn’t talk with their mouth full? Me neither. Steve Rogers, garbled: “M’jus say’n s’bullshit,” he manages, and swallows. “Our team doesn’t belong in fuckin’ Cali. Listen. You hear that?” “Is it Jim Morita laughing at us from beyond the grave?“ “Hell yeah, it’s Jim Morita laughing at us from beyond the grave.”
• Steve Rogers getting splashed with water by a cab. “WHADDAYA DOIN, HUH? JESUS!”
• Steve Rogers, by turns incredibly polite and incredibly rude on the subway. “Is this guy bothering you? Because if he tries to grope you again, I’m kicking his ass, miss, pardon my French.”
• Food Trucks: The Autobiography of an American Hero
• Those dumb BKLYN ballcaps. Steve owns like minimum ten.
• Wary of visiting Barton in Bed-Stuy. “I think I liked it better when it was crooks,” he says to Buck, eyeing a hipster in confusion. That sweater has like fourteen different kinds of flowers embroidered on it; it looks like something his ma owned, only ironic.
• “How much is eighteen dollars in future money?” Bucky asks him inside the Balcony Lounge in the Met. Steve blanches, staring at the menu. “For a salad? Oh my God, we’re going to the cafeteria.”
• Haggling in the fish market. Listen to me, this is so important. “That fish is a fuckin’ tadpole, and you want how much for it?” Bucky demands. “Hell no, hell no, kid, I’m old enough to be your granddad. It’s fifteen for the bunch there or none.” “Sir, these are set prices.” Turning to Steve, incredulous: “Does nobody goddamn know how to do business anymore? I swear to Christ. Bleedin’ me dry. I’m moving to Hell’s Kitchen.” “Hell’s Kitchen is just as expensive, sir.” “Well, fuck a duck, Steve, you hear that?”
• Following along with a yoga class happening in Central from six feet away, hidden slightly behind a tree
• “Yeah, Carnegie got hit in the Chitauri attack.” “What?” “It’s fine! It’s fine! It’s still there!” Steve refers not to the hall, but the deli. Priorities.
• Searching for apartments. “I’m starting to get the feeling,” Steve says, “That it’s cheaper to live in Manhattan.” He reaches for the listings for the other borough. Bucky grabs his hand. “Do not,” he says, “If you don’t want to have an aneurysm.”
• Bucky holding a stare-off with the 11 y/o kid on the subway wearing a Yankees jersey. The kid staring-off right back. Little punk.
• “Remember when New York was normal?” Steve asks Bucky, after watching the lady who owns the little domesticated monkey walk down Fifth Avenue, all up in her mink coat &etc. “Pal,” Bucky says, and drops a dollar into the can of a street performer, “New York was never normal.”
After a long day of work, all Mr. Steel wants to do is come back home and relax.
All he can think about in the shower after seeing his cute little neighbor is his raw dick slowly sliding in and out of her pussy while knowing it is extremely risky. But not wanting to pull out. Shush her as he continues to pound her unprotected pussy.
should he hold her down in her own bed? forcefully fucking her pussy raw? Grunting and groaning with every thrust as she whimpers for him don’t stop .
And baby, you know I won’t pull out until your pussy is full of cum…
The urge to breedandclaim her is so strong but she’s so innocent…right? She can’t be like that. What would she know what to do with his dick anyway? Probably doesn’t even know what a dick looks like.
So he thought.
What happens when his laptop gets hacked in the middle of the night with a game he can’t refuse?
I just woke up and all I can think about is Azriel being a cuddler and wrapping his arms around Gwyn when they are sleeping and sometimes his overbearing protective Illyrian ass just cocoons her with his wings during the night and she has to basically tickle them to get out in the morning :’)
The usually stoic broody Spymaster nuzzling his nose in the pretty Redhead’s neck as he inhales and whines and grumbles 5 more minutes when she tries to get away from his grabby hands in the morning for training/ her job is my serotonin!
Him pouting when she gets up to head to the bathing chamber, and she just grins and rolls her eyes before leaning down to press a chaste kiss on his lips…and like, 9 times out of 10 he tricks her and pulls her back down
And then when they really do have to get up Gwyn gets up and just removes his shirt that she is wearing to cover herself up and sassily winks at him as she makes her way to the bathing chambers with Az groaning and then scrambling out of the bed to join her in the shower so they clean themselves up… after getting dirty again ;)
Azriel watching her in the bath, gently running the shampoo through her hair before stripping down and coming up behind her, placing wee kisses on her shoulder, hands splayed on her stomach before going lower and Gwyn’s head falling back on his shoulder whilst she enjoys her shadowsinger making her morning so much better
After the morning… delight, they make there way to the room to change and Gwyn watches her man shuffle around in the room as he looks for a shirt in just a towel and how his muscles bunch and roll in the back. Az notices her ogling and biting her lip and gives her a smug smirk.
He goes over to Gwyn and gives her a rough kiss and then pulls back when she tries to wrap her legs around his waist saying “you don’t want to be late now do you?” And squeezes her ass and escapes out of the room with a pure male grin as she shouts curses at him for turning her on before they have to be in front of everybody else
Don’t forget the lingering and heated looks exchanged across the training ring, and I fully believe without a shadow of a fucking doubt that Gwyn would jokingly slap her man’s ass when she walks past him just to see the look on his face
Also let’s not forget his shadows darting and reaching out to her, sending wee whispers of all the things Azriel wants to do to her that just riles her up more
I’ll eat you out and then fuck you till you can’t walk
