#mandy gets a prompt

[eggsdrawings]

at a cowboy themed party and i said hello instead of howdy and they ran me over with their horses

[bellaxgiornata]

Under the Weather

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Despite the fact that he's coming down with a cold, Matt refuses to heed your advice on staying inside instead of running around Hell's Kitchen in the freezing autumn rain. In the morning, you're left with an even sicker, more stubborn Devil.

Warnings/tags: 18+; Nothing but fluff and a stubborn, flirty Devil

a/n: Yet another little fluffy fic for Mandy's Sweater Weather Challenge by the lovely @she-likesorchids! Can you tell I had to make sure all my boys got a fic? This one was for the prompt "Let's just stay in bed." Feedback is always appreciated!

Finally finished with the after dinner cleanup, you washed your hands in the kitchen sink, the pounding of the rain outside the apartment a persistent backdrop to the evening. As you turned off the faucet and reached over to grab the towel from the nearby hook, you heard the bedroom door slide open. Glancing up from your place at the sink as you dried your hands, you spotted Matt exiting the bedroom dressed in his black suit, his black mask on his head but not yet pulled down over his face. You frowned at the sight of him, eyes focusing back on the windows covered in rainfall as the light from the billboard across the street flooded through them, coating the living room in a dark blue.

Focusing back on Matt, you hung up the towel before you began to make your way through the kitchen towards him. You noticed how he'd stopped mid-step on his way to the stairs leading to the roof access as you walked, his head shifting over his shoulder towards you. 

"Matt," you said, tone lightly chastising. 

It didn’t escape your notice how he'd instantly stiffened at the sound of your voice. You could also tell by the way his shoulders were slightly slumped forward and the faint red tinge visible on his nose that he still felt a bit under the weather. But of course, Matthew being Matthew, he apparently was still planning to go out. You should have known as much.

"Maybe you should stay in tonight," you suggested carefully, eyeing the thin material of his shirt as the rain only continued to dump onto the roof of the apartment. "You know, like we talked about earlier? At dinner?"

He turned fully towards you, straightening his back as his sightless gaze landed on your chest. His eyes narrowed a bit and you knew he was about to pretend the big bad Devil wasn't sick, but the faint sniffle from his stuffed up nose ruined whatever effect he thought he was about to have on you. 

“I’m fine, sweetheart," he told you.

His voice was a little distorted because of the congestion and you scoffed immediately. Crossing your arms over your chest, you quirked a brow at him.

"You're sick, Matt," you pointed out. "You need rest. You said yourself earlier that nothing was going on tonight in Hell’s Kitchen. So stay in and take care of yourself. You'll be no help to anyone in the city if something actually happens and you're even sicker."

Matt shook his head at you, that stubborn expression still on his face. Of course he wasn't going to listen. He was going to ignore what he needed to do for himself for the sake of the people of Hell’s Kitchen, and as much as you loved and admired that about him, he really needed to learn one of these days that he was still only human. He needed to take care of himself. 

But getting that through his head was damn near impossible. 

"I don't get sick," he countered, voice still noticeably off. "I’m completely fine, sweetheart. I'm just going out for a bit to keep an eye on things. You don't need to wait up for me."

“Matt, it’s barely above freezing outside right now!” you exclaimed, throwing a hand towards the living room window. “And it’s raining . Ten degrees less and that would be snow right now! What you're wearing isn't even remotely warm. You’re going to make yourself incredibly sick if you go running around rooftops tonight dressed in that !”

Matt’s lips drew into a devilish smirk, a smug expression overtaking his features. The look might have had the desired effect on you if he hadn’t sniffled loudly yet again, his red nose scrunching up as he did. 

“You like this suit,” he countered.

“No,” you said, holding up a hand as you corrected him. “I like how you look in this suit, Matt. I absolutely hate how little protection it offers for knives, baseball bats, and cold weather. There’s a massive difference.”

“I’ll be just fine,” he assured you.

Matt reached a hand up, pulling his mask down until it covered his face, leaving only his lips and chin visible. The gesture was meant to end the conversation, you were aware of that. Sighing in exasperation, you rolled your eyes at him. You knew damn well he was going to be miserable come morning.

“We all know you’re just going to do what you want anyway,” you grumbled, crossing the rest of the way over towards him. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t need you bleeding out and sick later.”

“I’m not sick,” he countered immediately.

“Mhmm,” you hummed out, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek, just below the black fabric of his mask. “Sure you’re not, babe. I’ll remember that when you’re clinging to me tomorrow and complaining about how awful you feel.”

You could tell by the way his lips pursed and the fabric had shifted along his face that he was shooting you an irritated look. The corner of your own mouth quirked up into a smirk. You’d seen Matt sick a couple of times before and he was always absolutely desperate for physical comfort–though you figured with his heightened senses, being sick felt a whole lot worse to him. And you figured it probably muted his usual ability to navigate the world as he was used to, especially with a stuffed up nose affecting his sense of smell.

“I do not get clingy ,” he disagreed with obvious distaste.

“Whatever you say, Matty,” you replied, lightly patting him on the arm.

You turned, making your way over towards the leather couch. If Matt was going to run around outside in the equivalent of tissue paper while he was sick, you were going to relax and watch some television while being smart and not going outside in the freezing autumn rain. 

“I do not get clingy!” he stated again.

Abruptly he turned, storming his way over towards the staircase. You settled into the cushions of the couch with a shake of your head. 

“Alright, you don’t get clingy when you’re sick,” you told him.

As you picked up the television remote from the coffee table, you saw Matt had paused yet again at the sound of your voice. Head turning just over his shoulder, cocked a bit to the side, you didn’t miss the deep frown spreading over his lips.

“You didn’t mean that,” he pointed out, tapping a gloved hand to his ear. “I could hear your heart.”

Rolling your eyes playfully at him, you flashed him a grin before you focused on the television across the room. “Of course I didn’t,” you told him, turning on the TV. “Because you do get clingy when you’re sick.”

Matt rumbled out a noise of frustration, stalking his way up the stairs and towards the roof access without another word. He obviously knew he wasn’t winning this argument with you. You began scanning through the channels, looking for a fall baking show to watch as he pulled the door open, the sound of the rain outside briefly louder until the door closed with a sharp clang after him. Shaking your head again, you finally settled on what you were looking for. 

“You’re going to be so miserable in the morning,” you muttered under your breath, aware he could still hear you.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Something ice cold landed on your bare stomach and your eyes immediately snapped open, the chill pulling you straight from your sleep. A miserable, muffled groan met your ears over the sound of light rain pattering outside as your barely conscious mind tried to quickly piece everything together.

You were in bed with Matt curled up against the back of you. Apparently it was his icy cold hand on your stomach that had woken you. He shifted behind you, his frigid hand on your bare stomach drawing you further towards him just before he buried his face against the back of your neck. You shivered at how cold he felt against you–Matt was usually a furnace who kept you warm.

“Matt, you’re freezing,” you whispered, trying to glance over your shoulder at him.

“I know,” he groaned, pulling himself in tighter to the back of you. “You’re so warm, though.”

You frowned immediately at the thick, congested sound of his voice. He sounded far worse than he had last night. And that was the only thing keeping you from your usual reaction to Matt’s nearly naked body wrapped so tight around yours.

“You’re sick,” you pointed out.

He groaned again, shaking his head against the back of your neck. “Don’t say it,” he begged, his voice almost a whine. "Don't even say it, sweetheart."

Sighing at his plea for you to not rub the consequences of his actions in his face, your hand dropped down to cover the one he had on your stomach. You did your best attempting to warm it up, rubbing your hand back and forth across his large one. Matt hummed out a pleased noise in response, the sound quite nasally.

“Fine, but you’re sick, Matt,” you pointed out. “I need to take your temperature. See what medicine we still have in the apartment for you to take because I might need to run to the store." You paused when he pitifully moaned in protest at that. "And you’re not going into the office to help Foggy with that thing this morning. I’ll call him myself. Him and Karen can handle things on their own. You need rest.”

“Only if you stay with me,” he murmured, his arm tightening around your waist. “You’re so warm and comfortable. Don't want you to go. Let's just stay in bed .”

Clearing your throat, you pitched your voice lower as you grinned and said, “I’m not clingy, sweetheart.”

Matt groaned again, burying his face further into your neck. “ Not funny,” he muttered.

“Maybe to you,” you countered, still grinning, “but I think it’s quite pertinent.” Patting the back of his hand that was holding you firmly to the front of himself, you said, "I need to get up, Matty. Need to call Fog for you and find the thermometer. And check the medicine cabinet to see what we have. Maybe make us both some hot tea while I'm up."

You felt the way he shook his head once again against you, muttering out a noise of disagreement. He began shifting behind you in the bed, soon tossing one of his legs over the top of both of yours. It was so easy to forget how muscular and powerful Matt was sometimes because you were so used to seeing him walking around the apartment in barely anything most of the time, his muscles often on display. But his single leg was solid and heavy , easily trapping you beneath the weight of it as he refused to release his hold on you and let you up.

" Matt !" you laughed out, reaching your hand down to playfully swat his thigh. "I'm trying to help you!"

"No. Don't want it," he muttered, words muffled against your skin. " Mine ," his congested voice nearly purred as he curled possessively around you.

Your eyes widened in surprise, another little laugh falling out of you. That was new. 

"Matt, I at least need to call Fog and get your temperature–you're positively freezing," you told him. "Let me help you. Please?"

He grumbled discontentedly in response, not making any attempt to move. You shifted as best as you could in his restricting embrace, trying to get a look at him.

" Please ?" you tried again, drawing the word out. 

It was a moment before he released a resigned sigh beside your ear, his warm breath brushing over your shoulder a sharp contrast to his cold skin pressed against you. 

"Will you come back to bed after?" he asked. "Stay with me?"

"If that's what you want, I can stay with you for a bit longer this morning," you relented. "But only after I get all of that done."

Matt hummed out a noise of disagreement, shaking his head. "Uh uh," he mumbled. "I'll give you ten minutes."

You laughed once again, unable to help yourself. "Excuse me? You'll give me ten minutes?" you asked him. "What happens if I take longer than that?"

Gradually he drew his thick thigh from off the top of you, his cold hand retreating from your stomach soon after. Your brows briefly furrowed before he gave your ass a light, unexpected smack. Instantly your eyes widened in shock at the gesture. 

"The Devil will bring you back to bed," he warned. 

That familiar dark, gravelly tone of his was hard to miss, even with how congested he sounded. A jolt of something shot through you at his threat, the hair on the back of your neck raising. Matt rumbled out a noise behind you in response to your body's reaction. 

"Better hurry," he teased. "Time is running out, sweetheart."

Tossing the covers off of yourself, you climbed out of bed and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. Though as you headed to the bathroom to check the medicine cabinet and grab the thermometer, you admittedly found yourself curious about what a sick Devil might do to you if you took too long. 

[janaispunk]

making forts under covers

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: Written for Mandy's Sweater Weather Writing Challenge by @she-likesorchids using the "Let's just stay in bed" prompt. This is my first time writing about Joel and also my first time writing at all in over a year, so I'm a little nervous, but I really wanted to put this out.

Word count: ~1.9k

Summary: You and Joel wake up to a gloomy fall morning and all you want to do is drink your morning coffee and stay in bed.

Warnings/Tags: post outbreak, Jackson era, fluff, unprotected p in v (don't do it, this isn’t the apocalypse), fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, so many pet names, Joel is a menace, tiny hints of dom!Joel but he's very soft, able-bodied reader, explicit 18+ content, MDNI! (let me know if I missed any)

You blink your eyes open to the gloomy light of an early fall morning and the sound of rain against the window. The air in the bedroom has a slight chill to it and you burrow deeper under the covers.

Joel is still asleep, laying on his side turned towards you.

You marvel at the sight of his handsome face, for once relaxed, his brow unfurrowed and his breath going slowly. You rarely see him like this; usually he's the one that rises before you do when you sleep over, waking you up with a cup of steaming coffee and a soft kiss to your forehead, mumbling, “G'mornin'” into your hair. Your relationship is still relatively new, and you like this routine that is slowly forming between the two of you, but you could also get used to waking up to him like this.

You take in his face for a few more moments, a small smile tugging at your lips, before you quietly slip out of his bed. Goosebumps errupt on your bare skin and you tug on the flannel that Joel discarded on the chair in the corner last night, enjoying the way that his smell clings to the fabric and engulfs you.

You pad down the stairs to the kitchen and busy yourself with preparing coffee for the both of you, then wander into the living room while it's brewing. You stop in front of his bookshelf and run your hands over the wood carving of an owl that you've admired several times before. The ability to craft something so detailed out of a simple piece of wood fascinates you, especially when you think about Joel and his large, strong hands, using them to make something this delicate.

You fill two cups of coffee, reveling in the feeling of comfort and cozyness that the smell of the hot liquid always brings you, then carry them back up to the bedroom where Joel is still asleep. You set one cup on his nightstand, take a sip from your own one and slip back under the sheets to snuggle up to Joel and nuzzle your face into his bare chest, inhaling his scent and enjoying the warmth that is radiating from his body.

Joel grumbles and wraps a strong arm around you, encompassing you further in his warmth and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as he mutters, “Mornin' sweetheart,” his southern drawl more pronounced and his voice still heavy with sleep.

You shyly smile up at him, grateful that you're one of the few people who are allowed to look past his rough exterior and to catch glimpses of the gentleness inside him that one only get to see when you're this close to him, and whisper, “Good morning,” before stretching up in his arms to reach his mouth with your lips.

His grasp around your waist tightens and you giggle, pecking his lips again before you lean away and say, “I brought you coffee, for once.” He sits up against the headboard, pulling you with him until you're leaning against his chest, one of his arms slung around your shoulder while he picks up the cup with his free hand and lets you do the same, before he leans down to kiss your forehead again and murmurs, “Thank you, darlin'.”

You both sip on your coffees for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet morning. His fingers draw lazy circles on your arm and shoulder, his eyes falling down to the flannel that's halfway slipped off. “Nice shirt,” he drawls into your ear and you giggle.

“Thanks, it's new.”

He chuckles and tugs you closer as he finishes off his coffee, places both of your cups on the nightstand and carefully cups your face, tilting your chin up to kiss your mouth. The feeling of his big roughened palm on your cheek, combined with the gentle way he touches you, has butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Joel deepens his kiss, his tongue dipping out and licking against your bottom lip, causing you to whimper softly and open your mouth for him as heat starts pooling inside of you and he pulls you on top of him.

“C'mere, darlin'.”

You melt into him as his strong arms wrap around you, his scent engulfing you and he's running his hands down your sides, leaving a trail of heat over your body as he slides the flannel completely off your body and dips his hands under the tank top that you slept in. Your lips connect again and you mewl into his mouth, your hips grinding down on him and his hold tightens around your waist, pressing you onto his growing hardness.

“Shhh, I got you,” he murmurs as his mouth moves down to your neck, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin there, causing you to shudder and sink your nails into his bare shoulders. He separates his mouth from your skin to push the tank top up and off your body, revealing your breasts and your already pebbled nipples. He groans softly and leans forward to suck on the soft skin there, your back arching and pressing yourself closer to him.

“Joel, please...” you whine, “I need...”

He leans back, his hands back on your sides, his thumbs brushing just below your breasts.

“Yeah? What d'you need, baby?”

You rock your hips against him, feeling his bulge press against your panties and another whimper falls from your lips.

“Need you Joel, please...”

It's almost embarrassing, how quickly he gets you to this point, but you can't bring yourself to care, not when he's this close, with his hands all over your body and his painfully handsome face right in front of you.

He smirks and pulls you into him again, murmuring, “Good girl, asking so nicely,” before he seals his lips back over yours and kisses you until you're breathless and squirming against him before he flips you over, his face hovering above yours. His hand travels down to your underwear and dips beneath the fabric, finding you already slick and swollen with need. He circles your clit slowly, making you gasp and buck your hips up against his hand.

“You're so pretty like this. Just ready and waitin' for me, aren't you?”

His hand trails down further, one finger dipping into your entrance.

“Y-yes, need you so badly, please Joel...”

He smirks, adding a second finger and slowly pumping them into you.

“I know, baby. Don't you worry, I'll take care of you. You're bein' so good for me.”

The praise makes you keen, the fact that this usually so stoically quiet man can't stop running his mouth when you're together like this, while he's reducing you to a blubbering mess that can barely get any words out.

You eagerly slip your hand into his underwear, wrapping your fingers around him, causing him to hiss and thrust into you particularly hard. You grab at his boxers, pulling them down his hips, wanting him as close as possible. He chuckles at your impatience but indulges you, the look in his eyes telling you that he's just as desperate for you as you are for him, helping you to get rid of his underwear and tugging yours off of you as well.

Joel grabs his hard length and slides it through your slick folds, causing you to moan and arch your hips up into his touch. He leans down and kisses you again, his cock nudging at your entrance as he whispers, “You want it, sweetheart?”, to which you respond with an eager nod. He tuts, cupping your face in his large hand.

“Words, baby. Tell me. Tell me what you want, how much you need it.”

You whine softly, feeling yourself blush at the thought of putting your desire into words.

“I- so much, Joel. Please, I- I need you to- to fuck me, please?”

You bite your lip and he groans softly, murmuring, “Good girl,” against your mouth as he pushes into you in one hard thrust, filling you to the brim.

You cry out as your walls clench around him, trying to adjust to the sudden intrusion, to the way he always feels so big inside of you, and the exquisite bliss that only Joel can bring you is taking over your body. Your hands grab at his shoulders, your nails digging into the skin and moans of his name falling from your mouth as he pounds into you with long, deep movements. His mouth finds your neck again, sucking hard and biting down on your skin, before soothing the sting with his tongue.

His arms wrap around you and he holds you close while he keeps thrusting into you, whispering into your ear.

“Fuck, you're such a dream... Feels good, yeah? This what you wanted?”

You nod frantically, one of your hands scratching down his back while the other grabs at the curls on his neck as you're barely able to form words.

“S-so good Joel, fuck, 's perfect...”

He hums in smug agreement, his thrusts becoming even deeper and his fingers sliding between your bodies to toy with your clit. The heat inside your body threatens to spill over at his touch and you moan loudly, your earlier inhibitions about voicing your needs wiped from your mind.

“Yes! Just there, please- please dont stop, oh god...”

He's rubbing precise circles over your clit, keeping his gaze on your face as your eyes glaze over, your moans growing even louder.

“That's it, good girl. So tight around me, fuck... Show me how pretty you come for me, go on. I know you can.”

Your jaw falls slack and your whole body trembles, your walls clenching rhythmically around him and soaking him in your wetness as your orgasm washes over you. He growls at the feeling of you pulsing around his cock and pounds into you a few more times before he pulls out and spills himself over your stomach.

He stills and his head falls forward, both of you panting hard and not moving for a few moments. He leans forward to kiss your cheek, smiling at your blissed out expression, before he gets up from the bed and pads to the bathroom. He returns with a washcloth and cleans you up, gently stroking your sides and making you hum happily.

When he's finished and collapses back beside you on the bed, you turn around, wrapping the both of you up in his blanket and pepper his face with kisses. “Good morning indeed,” you grin and he huffs, ruffling through your hair and pulling you tighter into his embrace.

“You got anything planned today?” he asks after a moment of peaceful silence and you shake your head.

“Nope, I'm all yours.”

“Good,” he smiles, letting your head rest on his chest and pulling the blanket up to your chin, so that you're entirely shielded from the slight chill in the air. Gloomy light filters into the room and you can still hear the rain splattering against the window. Joel kisses your forehead softly.

“Let's just stay in bed, then.”

banners/dividers by @saradika <3

[shiorimakibawrites]

Baking with Love

Last-minute final entry to Mandy's Sweater Weather Challenge presented by @she-likesorchids.

This one uses the prompts - baking/cooking together combined with the "You taste like cinnamon" and "Your hands are freezing."

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 1,287

Summary: Matt Murdock and You make pumpkin bread and cookies.

Tags/ Warnings: Established Matt / Reader relationship, Tooth-rotting fluff

Tagging: @bellaxgiornata thought you might enjoy some Matty fluff.

Baking with Love

You sighed with relief when you entered Matt’s building. You were very happy to be out of the wind. It hadn’t been a long walk but your cheeks, nose, and ears felt like they had been scrapped raw by the biting wind. Your hands weren’t much better. You had tried to switch your tote between your hands so each got the chance to hide in your pocket but it hadn’t helped much.

The door to Matt’s apartment swung open just as you were about to reach for the knob. Matt, of course, having likely between aware of your approach for at least a block. He did this trick all the time but it still managed to make you jump each time. Judging by the grin on his face, Matt found your reaction just as amusing as he always did.

Along with any other time he sneaked up on you. Which happened a lot. Because in addition to being a lawyer, Matt was also a ninja. You keep threatening to make him wear a bell. Which only made him laugh harder. He is so lucky that he’s cute.

He looked especially cute today. First, he was smiling wide enough for the dimples to come out. That was always going to be adorable. Second, since he was at home and neither of you was planning to go anywhere until later, he hadn’t put on his dark glasses. So you got to see his lovely hazel eyes sparkling with mirth. Third, he was wearing a snuggle sweater.

Cable-knit and dark brown in color, it looked incredibly soft. You hoped you’d get to find out later. There were plans to snuggle together on the couch under the blankets, after the baking was done, but you knew how easily those plans could get disrupted for either lawyer or vigilante reasons.

If the former, you would sigh but accept the situation. Unless it was Burke, Winthrop, & Associates being themselves again. If you had to spent your snuggle time working through another pile of motions that dance right up to the edge of being frivolous from those bastards, you might actually kill someone.

As for the later . . . Daredevil might end up being the last of their worries. You might not have Matt’s fighting skills but you had connections. The benefit of feeding the local vigilantes like the semi-feral cats that they are. You could delegate your vengeance.

You also enjoyed how that sweater clung to those board shoulders and hinted at the solid muscle of his torso. That he had paired with jeans that showed off his perfect ass was just a bonus.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Matt greeted you as he ushered you into his apartment. It was toasty warm in there. You sat down your tote on the bench and flexed your hands. Then winced. It might have been a short walk but it was long enough and air was cold enough to leave your hands stiff and aching.

You did another little startled jump when your hands were engulfed by Matt’s hands. His big, wonderfully warm hands. He started massaging the backs of your hands with his thumbs.

“Your hands are freezing,” he said. “Still can’t find your gloves?”

“No,” you said. And sighed. “I’ll find them eventually. I know they are somewhere in my apartment. They have to be.”

“Not giving up?” he asked, almost casual. As if we weren’t discussing the gloves he had given you for Christmas. The ones you distinctively remembered packing when you put away your fall and winter clothes this spring but were inexplicably missing from the box when you opened it last week.

“No,” you said firmly. “I really like those gloves. I’m not giving up on them.”

You silently prayed that Matt got the message that you weren’t just talking about your gloves.

“Thank you,” he said softly, squeezing your hands and looking a little misty-eyed.

You smiled. Looks like he got it. You squeezed his hands back. “Hey mister, where’s my kiss?”

He laughed as he dropped your hands in favor of cupping your face. His thumbs stroked your cheeks, then he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. It was a slow but thorough kiss. The kind of kiss that soon had your hands gripping his upper arms. That sweater was just as soft as it looked. Definitely going to kill anyone who prevented snuggle time.

The unfortunate need for air meant the kiss had to end. You tried not to pout about that.

Matt kissed your forehead and murmured, “You taste like cinnamon.”

You hummed, then remembered. “The coffee cake has cinnamon in the streusel topping.”

“And you didn’t bring me any?” he asked with a mock pout.

“Sorry but I was running out of space in the tote,” you said. You leaned up and kissed his forehead. “Maybe one of these cold night, Daredevil will come to my apartment looking for a little snack.”

“Maybe he will,” Matt said with a grin. A grin that shifted into something coy. “And afterward, he might also have some cake.”

You felt your face get warm. Along with the first stirrings of arousal. Your voice was a little breathy when you answered, “Sounds like a plan. I look forward to seeing it in action.”

Matt smirked, the cocky smug one. He knew the effect he was having on you. But he let his hands fall away from your face. He stepped to the side of you and reached the tote bag. Curiously weighted it in one hand.

“What’s all in here?”

“Cookbook, mini-loaf pan, cookie sheets, parchment paper, pumpkin puree, apples –”

“I thought we making pumpkin bread?”

“We are but I saw a recipe that I want to try for apple cinnamon oatmeal cookies. Thought that we could make those too.”

“Those do sound good,” Matt said with smile.

You both got to work.

Since the whine of the motor in your hand-mixer, especially at point-blank range, made Matt wince, the butter and sugar would need to be creamed by hand. Since Matt had giant arm muscles and superhero stamina while you didn’t, you gave him that job.

While he did that, you peeled, cored, and chopped apples. Then tossed them with a little lemon juice to prevent them from oxidizing and because it enhanced the favor of the tart apples. You might occasionally gotten distracted by Matt’s . . . everything.

Like that play of muscles under that sweater while he did the creaming.

Or his ass when he had to bend down to retrieve a larger bowl – you had underestimated how big of a bowl you need for the pumpkin bread dough. Which, it seemed to you, happened a lot with pumpkin. At least it wasn’t pumpkin pie. You always seemed to end up with more batter than you had pie shells.

But what caught you eye the most was that sweet, dopey smile that kept returning to his face. This was the most relaxed you had seen Matt in a while. You supported what he did but that didn’t meant you liked seeing him frustrated and stressed.

But the soft, loving look in his eyes after you kissed his forehead and said “I love you” that – that really made your heart flutter. And it was in that moment that you knew you wanted to marry him.

Matt’s predication proved to be accurate. The cookies were delicious. You are definitely adding those to your fall treats, you thought as you snuggled against Matt on the couch. Your predication about the sweater was also accurate. It was wonderfully soft.

“What are we watching, sweetheart?” Matt asked. It was your turn to pick the movie.

“Hocus Pocus.”

Ending Note

They are making the pumpkin bread and cookies for Foggy, Karen, Marci, Claire as well as their circle of vigilante friends – the Defenders, Frank Castle, and Spider-Man.

[apprenticestanheight]

kindly asking for hoffman taking care of a sick s/o (but also not opposed to the same prompt for amanda,,)

Hoffman and Amanda taking care of a sick s/o headcanons

Okay!! This is coming out literal months after it was sent into my inbox and for that, I apologize! I am notoriously terrible at time management and I will procrastinate as much as the day is long.

Procrastination in accompaniment with a couple of personal issues and mountains of demotivation and anxiety as tall as mount everest are not the best cocktail and again, I am very sorry for how long this has taken!

I do have it titled in a way that might be a little confusing but, just to clarify, I did do headcanons and I did two separate sets rolled up into one fic just so that I could make it a little easier on myself because I could not, for the life of me, choose between hoffman and amanda for this. I don't write enough for either of them so this is kind of how I'm compensating for that lol

Fic type - this is very fluffy!

Warnings - the reader has a sinus infection/cold, so there's likely to be symptoms of that discussed, plus mentions of medication

oooookay!! To start, we're gonna go with Hoffman!

You wake up sick one random morning at the beginning of February and Mark is immediately like "oh NO, did I give them the sinus cold that's been going around work?" bc he had it like,, two or so weeks beforehand

and when you say good morning in a way that tells mark you're groggy but also sick, he calls in sick from work on your behalf and then calls the precinct to waste a few sick days to take care of you

After he's called in sick from work, he kisses your forehead both because he wants to and also to check for a fever. He finds that you're burning up, which is a bit of a surprise given the fact that, the minute Mark had adjusted, you'd practically stolen all of the blankets from him.

So, he kisses you on the forehead again and then leaves your apartment to grab the essentials: ibuprofen for the inevitable headache, a combination pack Nyquil and Dayquil to ease the fever and also help you function like a person during the day and get some sleep at night.

He also grabs chicken noodle soup and bread for toast, plus a few of your favorite snacks.

When he gets back home, he tosses one of his older NJPD sweaters into the dryer so that it comes out warm once the fever has broken, finds you in your bed with nothing but a stolen pair of Marks boxers and one of his button ups to act as clothes. A thick blanket covers your legs entirely and you've sat up in the bed, clearly trying to will yourself to function like you would if you weren't sick.

Mark is at your side relatively quickly with a Dayquil and bottle of gatorade in hand, kissing your forehead as you take the pills and thank him for running the errand.

Generally, Mark is absolutely the type of guy who just wants to make sure you have the time to rest. He takes care of the house work, makes sure that the windows are open so that you're still getting fresh air but aren't practically drowning in the wintery cold, does everything he can to make sure you're resting well.

that also means he's with you lots of the time--he'll lay down with you in bed for as long as you want, happy to kiss the top of your head and act as your anchor when a migraine sets in.

It also means kisses after you've taken your meds--you'll pop a Dayquil, sip some gatorade, and Mark will kiss your forehead or your cheek and then say nothing when you fall asleep against his shoulder twenty minutes later

he's generally very sweet and absolutely one hell of a guy to have around when you have a cold

okay! It's Mandys turn

Amanda is super clingy and has herself a few connections, so when she finds out you have a cold she uses those connections.

the biggest connection that she has is lawrence (I am firmly of the belief that they had a sibling dynamic and also that they were both only children) and she uses it the second you're asleep while sinus-infected and bedridden

she calls him up like "hi. my partner has a cold. I need a prescription for the best cold meds you have or at least a bit of advice please and thanks."

so, Lawrence kind of like,, he gives her the play-by-play, right? He tells her what over-the-counter meds work the best and gives her advice on how to help you

she follows it bc she wants you to get better. She gets you the good stuff and benadryl, which has the tendency to knock a person out as it were and the night-time cold meds were out of stock at the pharmacy she went to.

She even goes to walmart and gets you a heated blanket. she is the fuckin--she loves you so much that she's willing to spend the 2001 equivalent of modern-day $20 for one of the decent ones.

And then she gets home and kisses you on the cheek bc emotional support, and you thank her while she sets up the heated blanket

generally, Amanda is like--she's on top of your care. She makes sure you're always comfortable, bribes you with kisses to get you to take the buckleys or whatever it is that she finds when she checks another pharamacy after a bit of apprenticing one day

you also sleep a lot, and Amanda pretty much acts as your body pillow??

the minute you're tiredly pressing your face against her shoulder, she's just kind of happy to let you sleep as you please because she wants you to get better

generally, she's very attentive and is quick to get you what you need when you need it.

[callivich]

Another @galladrabbles fic for @heymacy’s prompt of ‘bones’ 🦴💖

————

It’s expensive to get soulmate reading from Mandy. But Ian’s sure it’s worth it - she’s one of the best witches in Chicago.

Afterwards, he’s surprised when she ushers him straight out the door.

He thought it might be clearer, perhaps a specific name of the person. “But…..how will I know? Who my soulmate is?”

She smiles at him sweetly, “Oh, you’ll know. You’ll feel it in your bones.”

He doesn’t know what the fuck that means. Well, not until a man with black hair bumps into him outside and Ian gets a thrill like nothing he’s ever felt before.

[reasonsmandy]

Lullabies of Life

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — prompt 13 with eddie roundtree

✧.* summary — It was supposed to be just a hookup, but he became the father of your daughter and the love of your life.

✧.* warnings — mentions of pregnancy.

✧.* word count — 4.0k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I fell in love with this little family, I hope you guys fall in love too. Good reading 🫶🏾

The bustling bar was a sanctuary of rhythm and revelry, a haven where music echoed through the air and laughter intertwined with the clinking of glasses. Its dimly lit interior exuded a vintage charm, with walls adorned by colorful posters of iconic bands from the era. The aroma of spirits and the familiar buzz of conversation enveloped the space, creating an ambiance that oozed with nostalgia and possibility.

Amidst the lively crowd, Eddie found himself drawn to the bar, its magnetic energy pulling him closer. His eyes fell upon you, the enchanting bartender who seemed to command the room with a flick of your wrist and a radiant smile. He approached the counter with a grin, eager to engage in their delightful banter.

"Hey there, stranger," You greeted him, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. The word "stranger" was delivered with a playful lilt, a nickname that hinted at the connection they were about to forge.

Eddie leaned against the bar, his voice brimming with charm. "Well, if I'm a stranger, then let me be the one who gets to know you better."

You chuckled, your fingers gracefully maneuvering the cocktail shakers. "Oh, so you're a smooth talker, huh? We'll see about that."

As the night unfolded, Eddie and you engaged in a delightful dance of words amidst the ebb and flow of the bar's enchanting melodies. The clinking of ice against glass, the occasional burst of laughter, and the vibrant hum of conversation formed the backdrop to your blossoming connection.

Eddie would order a drink, taking in the eclectic playlist that filled the room with nostalgia. You, always attentive, would slip playful comments into your conversation, occasionally referring to him as "stranger" as a playful reminder of their initial encounter.

Over time, your flirty exchanges at the bar evolved into something deeper and more intimate. The magnetism between you and Eddie grew stronger with each passing day, drawing you both into a passionate liaison that extended beyond the confines of the club.

As the night grew darker and the bar closed its doors, you found solace in each other's company. Eddie's presence became a constant, a reassuring presence waiting for you after your shift ended. Together, you would slip away to secret hideaways, where the world faded into insignificance, and it was only the two of you.

In the hushed corners of hotel rooms or the hidden embrace of secluded spots, you explored the depths of desire and indulged in the pleasures of each other's company. It was a friends-with-benefits arrangement, an unspoken agreement that allowed you both to revel in the physical connection without the complications of a committed relationship.

The moments shared were passionate and intoxicating. The touch of his hands, the taste of his lips, the way his body melded with yours—each encounter was a symphony of sensations, a dance of unspoken longing and untamed passion. In those stolen moments, you found release and a refuge from the demands of the world.

But as the flames of desire burned brightly, so too did the risk of falling deeper. Moments of tenderness would slip through the cracks, fleeting glimpses of a connection that extended beyond the physical. It was in those stolen glances, in the whispered words of affection, that the lines between friendship and something more became blurred.

The arrangement of a friend with benefits relationship was both thrilling and bittersweet. It allowed you to explore your desires, to indulge in the heat of the moment, yet it left the door ajar for the possibility of yearning for more. Every encounter was an intoxicating blend of pleasure and the unspoken question of what might lie beyond the confines of your secret trysts.

Together, you walked a tightrope, balancing between the exhilaration of passion and the lingering desire for something deeper. The memories created in those hidden moments would forever be etched in your hearts, a testament to the connection shared and the complexities of navigating a relationship that blurred the boundaries of friendship and desire.

…

You and Eddie carried on with what you had, you preferred not to name something so good, you just lived and loved every moment, but the love of desire and fulfillment of it made you careless. You sat on the edge of gour worn-out couch, your hands trembling as you clutched the positive pregnancy test. Thoughts raced through your mind like a whirlwind, and a mix of fear and excitement coursed through your veins. You needed to share this life-altering news with Eddie, although the fear of his reaction filled your chest every second pass.

With shaky fingers, you dialed Eddie's number, your voice filled with urgency and vulnerability as you pleaded, "Eddie, please come over. There's something important I need to tell you."

Minutes later, Eddie arrived at your doorstep, his face etched with concern. As he entered the apartment, his eyes met yours, searching for answers. The air was heavy with tension, thick with the weight of the news about to be shared.

"You're scaring me, you called me by my name on the phone." Eddie chuckled until he took knowledge of your worried features. "Is everything alright?"

Your voice quivered as you handed him the pregnancy test, your fingers brushing against each other in an electric moment. "I just found out," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper and your hands trembling. "I'm pregnant, Eddie."

Eddie's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. The room fell silent, the gravity of the situation sinking in. He stepped closer to you, his voice filled with a mix of awe and disbelief. "A baby?" he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're carrying our child?"

You nodded, tears glistening in your eyes. "Yes, Eddie. What the hell are we gonna do?"

Emotions cascaded over Eddie's face like a tidal wave. The initial shock gave way to a profound sense of responsibility and determination. He closed the distance between you, gently cupping your face in his hands. "Y/N, I know we didn't plan any of this, not at all, but I'm here to support you" he says, his voice filled with raw emotion. "And being honest with you, knowing that we have a child together, it brings me more comfort than having this baby with anyone else. Of course, if that's your choice... having the baby."

"I want to have the baby." You say crying and he hugs you closer, conveying comfort.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you clung to Eddie's words, your heart swelling with a mix of gratitude and love. In that tender moment, they shared an unspoken understanding that this unexpected twist of fate was an opportunity for growth and a chance to explore the depths of their connection. And of course, you agreed to be your best selves for this child.

After hours of talking that morning, you decided that it would be better to cut off any romantic attitudes between you, for the sake of the baby it would be better not to confuse anything from now on.

With your hands entwined, you faced the unknown together, ready to embrace the journey of parenthood as a united front. Little did you know that this new chapter would not only reveal the strength of your love but also redefine your understanding of yourselves and the remarkable bond you shared.

…

You were feeling horrible, the nausea wouldn't leave you alone since last morning and your head ache as if a carnival float was giving a parade in it. Eddie was by your side all this time, helping you with everything you needed and if you were honest that messed with your feelings, you knew it was his duty as this baby's father, but the cold that grew in your stomach when he took care of you was inevitable.

You had your eyes closed but you couldn't sleep, you could hear Roundtree in the kitchen preparing something for you to have dinner and you decide to get up and go to him. You stop at the entrance to the kitchen, an involuntary smile spreads across your face when you see the way he was trying to understand the recipe.

You watched the clock on the wall pass the hours and your chest tightened at the thought of him leaving your place, his presence made you feel more relaxed about all of this. You involuntarily rest your hand on your belly that already showed your baby's development, you sigh loudly catching the bassist's attention.

"You alright there?" He asks, and you try to hold in a laugh when you see him in an apron. "Did our little bean let you rest?"

"Not actually." You smile weakly, approaching him. "Would you mind spending the night?"

Eddie's body freezes, he wonders several times if his ears had heard correctly, he turns to you analyzing every detail in your face for any sign of joke or humor, and when he doesn't find it he worries. "Are you that bad? Don't you want me to take you to the hospital?"

You roll your eyes and instantly give up making the invitation, maybe you had misunderstood what he felt. You leave the kitchen disappointed, "I'm going to my room."

Worried, Roundtree turned off the fire and made his way towards the bedroom, following the sound of your voice. As he entered the room, he found you lying on the bed, your eyes fixed on the ceiling, lost in your thoughts.

"I like it when you're here," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and longing. Sensing his presence, you turned your head towards him, your eyes locking with his. Roundtree sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze attentive as he listened intently to your words.

"I want you to stay, but if you don't... It's okay, I understand," you continued, your voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

Roundtree's expression softened, his hand reaching out to gently stroke your leg. "You know I'll do anything to help you through the pregnancy," he reassured, his voice filled with genuine concern. "I'll stay with you."

Despite his words, an underlying sense of unease lingered on his face, his turmoil evident. He felt the weight of the situation, the frustration of not knowing how to improve things or make you feel better. "Look, I don't know what I did to upset you but–"

Before he could finish his sentence, you closed the distance between you, surprising him with an unexpected kiss. It was a passionate and spontaneous gesture, born out of the emotions swirling between you. Roundtree's initial surprise gave way to a reciprocated desire as he kissed you back, his lips meeting yours in a moment of shared vulnerability and longing.

In that instant, the worries and uncertainties melted away, replaced by the warmth of your connection. The kiss spoke volumes, expressing the depth of your feelings for each other, transcending the words that had gone unspoken.

"I want you to stay because of me." You say after the kiss, feeling his breath hitch on your face. "That's what I want, I want you."

"My precious…" He smiles, closing his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"I don't want you to just be my baby's daddy." You say frustrated, pulling away from him a little. "Stay with me..."

Eddie was holding back a smile, and you knew he wanted to make some joke of the situation, or of course, drop a line at you. "Just say it stranger."

"So you want me to be your daddy, uh?" The smirk that grew on his face made you let out a genuine laugh.

"You're ridiculous!" You exclaim pulling him down onto the bed. "Now cuddle with me."

…

Amidst the journey of pregnancy, you and Eddie found yourselves navigating uncharted emotional territory. The anticipation of becoming parents together brought a newfound awareness of your feelings, deepening your connection in unexpected ways.

As the months passed, you couldn't help but notice Eddie's increased affection and care towards you. He would accompany you to doctor's appointments, his hand resting protectively on your growing belly, his eyes filled with awe and wonder. The way he spoke to your unborn child, whispering words of love and promises of a bright future, touched your heart in ways you had never imagined.

One quiet morning, as the dawn cast a soft glow into the room, you and Eddie found yourselves sitting side by side on the edge of the bed. You placed Eddie's hand on your belly, feeling the gentle kicks and movements of your little one.

Eddie's voice was filled with tenderness as he addressed your unborn child. "Hey there, little one, they're kicking" he whispered the last part at you with a sparkle in his eyes and you can't help but smile, his voice carrying a mixture of awe and excitement. "You're growing stronger every day, and we can't wait to meet you. Your mom and I love you more than words can express."

You watched Eddie, your heart swelling with a mixture of joy and affection. "That's right, baby," you chimed in, your voice filled with warmth. "You're surrounded by so much love. We're here for you, every step of the way."

Suddenly, your baby let out a particularly enthusiastic kick, causing you to laugh. "Looks like our little kicker is ready for some action," you exclaimed, a playful gleam in your eyes.

Eddie chuckled, his hand still resting on your belly. "I think our future rockstar is already rehearsing for their first concert," he joked, his voice filled with amusement.

You playfully nudged Eddie's arm. "Well, just don't let Warren know about it cuz since I told him that the baby won't stop kicking, he's been to like twenty different stores looking for a mini drum set," you say, laughing as you remembered the drummers words.

Eddie feigned a hurt expression, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "It's not like my child is going to play the drums, it's business will be string instruments, right little bean?" he retorted, kissing your belly, a twinkle in his eyes.

You both burst into laughter, your shared humor creating an atmosphere of joy and lightness. In that moment, you realized that amidst the seriousness of pregnancy and impending parenthood, there was room for laughter and playfulness.

As the first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, you and Eddie sat in laughter-filled silence, your hearts intertwined with the tiny heartbeat within your womb. The sunlight hits your naked body and your boyfriend admires you as if you are the most beautiful work in the world, you feel a flush on your cheeks and you look away.

"Are you embarrassed now, my precious?" He says laying closer to you, kissing your cheek. "After everything we did tonight?" He says with a sly look and you smack him on the arm, burying your face in the pillow.

"I need to sleep, the baby hasn't been quiet all night." You close your eyes pretending to sleep.

"Hey baby, let your mother sleep, daddy tired her today" Eddie whispers close to your navel, as if sharing a secret with your child.

You sit up with a serious look on your face, your face now hot with embarrassment. "Hey! Don't talk about these things with the baby."

"My bad my bad." He says after a series of laughs from you, pulling you closer to him. "Now come sleep in my arms, my precious." He kisses the top of your head and you feel safe and sound.

…

Inside the bustling recording studio, Daisy Jones and the Six poured their hearts into the music, unaware of the impending news. Eddie's fingers glided across the bass strings, his mind fully absorbed in the melodies.

Suddenly, Teddy Price, their producer, burst into the room, his face flushed with urgency.

"Eddie, I've got something important," Teddy called out, waving for them to stop playing.

Eddie takes off his headphones, waiting for the older man to tell him what was going on. "Y/N's waters broke. She's on her way to the hospital. It's time," he announced.

"What?!" Warren yelled, jumping from his drum set.

Everyone turns to Rojas with raised eyebrows, he was excited about the idea of being godfather from the beginning of your pregnancy. Eddie felt his heart pounding like a wild animal, it was time, he was going to meet his baby.

Desperate they go to Warren's van, the streets of LA were congested with people returning to their homes after a long day at work and Warren felt he was going to have a breakdown.

"¡Vete a la mierda, cabrón!" Rojas cursed yet another driver who passed in front of him, his hands were sweating and he was struggling to concentrate.

"Warren is already the second exit you missed." Billy says irritated, he saw Eddie desperate in the passenger seat. "Let's change places."

"It's not your goddaughter being born, I'm the one driving!" Warren speaks sullenly at the situation.

"First of all, we don't even know if it's a girl, second of all...Quit being reckless!" Billy gets up from the back of the van taking Warren's belt off.

"Do you want to kill me?" Rojas says as he feels the grip of the feeling released from him.

"Get out of there Warren!" Billy pulls the drummer to the back of the van as the vehicle stops at the light.

"Okay okay, but only because I wanted to!" He says switching places with the older Dunne, Eddie makes a face when he sees Rojas' ass on his face during this change of places.

Eddie stepped into the hospital, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. The scent of antiseptic hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of flowers brought by well-wishers. The walls were adorned with faded paintings, remnants of an era gone by, while the sound of muffled voices and beeping machines created a symphony of activity.

He followed the signs that led him down a long corridor, his footsteps echoing against the tiled floor. The atmosphere was hushed, the occasional sound of a baby's cry punctuating the stillness. The soft hum of conversations between doctors and nurses drifted through the hallways, adding to the sense of purpose that permeated the space.

As Eddie approached the door to the labor and delivery ward, he paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. The sound of his own heartbeat filled his ears, the weight of impending fatherhood settling upon his shoulders. He took a deep breath, finding solace in the knowledge that you were just beyond that door, bringing your child into the world.

Roundtree pushed open the door to the labor and delivery ward, and his eyes immediately fell upon you, lying in the hospital bed. Beads of perspiration dotted your forehead, evidence of the intense physical exertion you were going through. The room was filled with a symphony of sounds—the rhythmic beeping of monitors, the hushed whispers of medical staff, and your own deep, controlled breaths.

Your face was a canvas of mixed emotions, a cocktail of determination, pain, and anticipation. Your brows furrowed with each contraction, the waves of discomfort coursing through your body. The lines of your face tightened, and your grip on the bed rails tightened in response to the increasing intensity.

The air in the room seemed to hum with a sense of purpose and urgency. Nurses and doctors moved around you, their voices soft and comforting as they offered encouragement and monitored your progress. Their gentle touch and soothing words were like anchors, providing a sense of support in the midst of the storm.

As Eddie approached your bedside, his heart ached seeing you in this state. He took your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours, offering a steadying presence. He could feel the strength of your grip, a testament to your resilience and determination. His eyes never wavered from your face, his love and admiration shining through the concern etched on his features.

Each contraction rippled through your body like a storm, intensifying and then subsiding, leaving you breathless but resolute. The pain etched lines of raw vulnerability on your face, but there was also an undeniable beauty in the strength you displayed, the unwavering commitment to bring life into the world.

Amidst the physical sensations that consumed you, your eyes met Eddie's, finding solace in his presence. In that shared gaze, unspoken words passed between you, a silent acknowledgment of the journey you were on together. His touch and unwavering support were a lifeline, grounding you in the midst of the whirlwind of labor.

As the medical team continued to guide you through each contraction, their voices blending with the symphony of beeps and your own primal vocalizations, Eddie stood by your side, a pillar of unwavering support. He whispered words of encouragement, his voice a gentle melody amidst the chaos, reminding you of the strength within you.

In that labor and delivery room, time seemed to bend and sway, as if the world outside ceased to exist. The pain and intensity were all-consuming, but through it all, a glimmer of hope and anticipation shone in your eyes. Eddie, witnessing your strength and perseverance, knew in his heart that together you would weather this storm, emerging on the other side with a precious gift—a new life, their baby, a testament to the love you shared.

Amid the pain that fills your body like a devastating wave you hear your baby's cry and such a sound in your eardrums makes you cry too. The doctor announces the arrival of his daughter and Eddie smiles widely when he sees the crumpled face of the baby, Aurora Roundtree, his new reason to live was right there for just a fell second and changed everything for him.

"You did it, my precious.” He kisses the top of her head. “Our daughter is beautiful."

…

You didn't know what to expect, after all everything with your boyfriend's band was always beyond any kind of imagination and possibility. Although you took care of your newborn together with her father, you feared what the presence of your friends could bring.

"Warren is the last I tell you." You say into the phone, as Eddie naps your daughter. "If you bring weed over here, I'll rip you apart."

Eddie starts laughing softly, trying not to wake up little Aurora who was sleeping peacefully in his arms. When she finally falls asleep he puts her in her crib, then hugs you tenderly.

"Don't you miss some weed darling?" he asks in a playful tone and you pat his chest.

They didn't take long to arrive, Camila Billy and Julia were the first. The little toddler approaches you with a gift and hands it to you with a shy smile.

"Thank you Jules." You say bending down to pick up the package. "Do you want to see the little bean?"

The little one waves shyly, hiding behind her father's leg, you hold out your hand for her to lead her to her daughter's crib. Julia stands nearby admiring the baby curiously and you stand beside her while Billy, Camila and Eddie talk.

Some time later Daisy arrives with Karen, both with their proper gifts in hand, you thank them and introduce the little one to them and as time goes by you talk and eat the snack prepared by Eddie moments before they arrive.

When the sound goes down, you notice the delay of Graham and Warren and you get worried, both of them didn't answer the phone at the house in Laurel Canyon and that increased the anguish of not knowing where they are.

You hear the classic rumble of the van's old engine and it automatically quiets your heartbeats, but before it becomes a pattern you hear a loud noise followed by an "Ouch".

Interestingly, everyone leaves for the front door of the house, finding Warren with his hands on his toes, Graham scratching his head and a relatively large box with a sticker that says 'Fragile.'

"What the fuck is this Rojas?" You question while laughing at the situation.

Warren ignores the pain shooting up from his toes into his body, spreads his arms and points to the box with excitement. "Guess who found a mini drum set?"

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

Want to be tagged when new stories come out? REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

[lingy910y]

Galladrabbles

3x12 as a choices matter game! thanks @darlingian for the prompt, haunted and @galladrabbles always

MICKEY’s stats:

Mood: 15/30 Courage: 10/30

IAN: “4 years, minimum.”

MICKEY:

> Play it off. Cost: +1 mood

> Tell him to stay. Cost: -2 courage

MICKEY: “What are you hoping, I’ll tell you not to go? Imma chase after you like some bitch?”

IAN: “I didn’t come here for you.”

IAN turns around, about to leave.

IAN’s mood: -5

MICKEY:

> Struggle to get the words out. Cost: -10 mood and 0 courage

> Say, “Don’t go.” Cost: 0 mood and -20 courage

MICKEY: “Don’t…”

IAN: “Don’t what?”

MICKEY: “Just…”

IAN leaves. He greets MANDY.

MICKEY is now haunted.

[synergysilhouette]

Disney's revival era: an Alternate Timeline

A bit of a weird idea; I wanted to write an alternate universe where the Disney revival era made different choices with their films, and whether or not it paid off for them. I'm starting with "The Princess and the Frog" since I consider it the start of the era more than "Bolt."

(Edit: I've since made posts about remaking the renaissance and post-renaissance eras, but since those came out before the revival era, they don't exist in the same AU. Maybe I'll tweak this post so they do.)

The Princess and the Frog--In this timeline, Disney catches onto the "If we put 'princess' in the title, it'll reduce our box office" thing faster and changes the title to "Frogs." This outrages the black community, who also criticizes Disney for making the two leads frogs for most of the film. This results in a story overhaul, with the story being renamed "Cursed," and Tiana no longer turns into a frog when kissing Naveen, but she does gain the ability to speak to animals. This version of the film doesn't reveal his identity until the end, with Naveen going by Lawrence and the human "Naveen" we see is actually Lawrence working with Dr. Facilier to scam Lottie as well as woo Tiana to give them back Naveen. Naveen himself cannot discuss the curse, and must promise to help Tiana when he becomes human again by kissing a princess. Naveen's treatment as a frog also draws parallels to the treatment of people of color at the time, since Naveen is depowered here.The film ends up making about $400 million and still getting Disney out of their creative slump, as well as Ne-Yo's "Never Knew I Needed" being an actual song in the film (because it's so good and so underrated). "Tiana" becomes a Disney+ series that helps to promote the platform when it first debuts. It also got a Broadway adaptation in 2013, with Anika Noni Rose reprising her role when it debuted.

Tangled--In this timeline, Glen Keane's seminar on the benefits of 2D and 3D tilts favor in 2D's way, and he persuades Disney executives David Stainton and Dick Cook to make it by making the art style fuller akin to the Rococo paintings the film was inspired by (check out Lisa Keane's concept art for it). Kristen Chenoweth is kept on as Rapunzel, making some discourse on the internet later on when it was revealed Idina Menzel also auditioned for the role. The movie also finalizes Bastion instead of making Flynn Rider, due to concern that he'd be too similar to Naveen, and Beneditch Cumberbatch is cast as him (apparently he was supposed to be British, so I kinda jumped on this opportunity). "You are my Forever" and it's reprise are never cut here, and the movie also utilizes the darker original concept (no idea what it was; I heard about it and it sounds intriguing), with fans and critics likening it to "Mulan," "The Hunchback of Notre Dame," and "Pocahontas" for it's tone. The film makes about the same amount of money the original did, and makes Disney reconsider retiring 2D. The success inspires a Broadway production MUCH earlier, which makes many report that it's at home with Disney's renaissance adaptations on Broadway (with Mandy Moore making her stage debut as Rapunzel), and a TV series (with tighter writing) on Disney+ in 2019, which also helps bring in subscribers with "Tiana."

Winnie the Pooh--I wouldn't change much, other than the fact that it got promoted more and made about $200 or $300 million at the box office, prompting Disney to make "Goodbye Christopher Robin" a bit earlier.

Wreck It Ralph--Similar to "Tangled," WIR goes through the "2D or 3D" discussion, with 2D winning out in order to give it a retro vibe and appeal to a wider audience, taking inspiration from 90s video games and TV series. Critical response likens it to Pixar, and praises Disney for a particularly successful original film, making Disney open to more original stories in the future.

Frozen--Disney can't hold back the 3D desire any longer, and believes that the winter atmosphere makes "Frozen" the ideal film to showcase it. The Norwegian influence is more obvious and accurate here (versus a more vague Scandinavian influence like in the OG timeline) and they keep Elsa and Anna as sisters while still making Elsa the villain, though redeeming her at the end by using the mirror from the original fairy tale to explain her villainy. Here, Anna accidentally ruins Elsa's coronation (as originally stated in the wiki during the film's development), and when Elsa flees, she returns, more powerful than ever, to ruin Anna's coronation, making an ice palace out of the Kingdom of Arendelle and trapping Anna, just as Elsa felt trapped. Elsa also has two looks: her blue skin and dark hair when she uses her powers, and white skin/hair when she doesn't, though by the end, it's shown that the hair/skin color can mix and match (black hair with white skin and blue skin with white hair being fan-favorites, I'm sure). Hans isn't a twist villain, and Kristoff's design draws comparisons to Bastion, and the producers lean into the theory that they're long-lost brothers. Hans has much less brothers, instead it just being five, and his journey in the story is essentially the opposite of Anna's, where he wants to be distant from his family. By the end, Elsa does let Anna keep the throne--and the citizens understandably agree. The film still becomes the phenomenon it did IRL, and it POSSIBLY leads to Disney discussing a sequel much sooner.

Big Hero 6--The film has some significant changes: Fred and Wasabi are of partial Japanese heritage, (with the film attracting attention for having a predominately Asian cast, and Honey Lemon might have some Chinese ancestry mixed with her Latin roots; plus "My Hero Academia" debuting the same year in Japan helps boost both in popularity), Gogo is a convicted felon on parole to mirror her comic counterpart, head of story Paul Briggs and co-writer Robert L. Baird reading the entire run of the series, and inspiration is taken from X-Men and Teen Titans for the show, with Wasabi, Fred, and Gogo being superpowered individuals (Fred's draconic powers, Wasasbi's qi manipulation, Gogo's superspeed) while Hiro and Honey Lemon are human nerds. Yokai is also more present, with the plot twist of his identity being revealed earlier. It's also noted that Yokai took inspiration from Amon from season 1 of "The Legend of Korra," which has earned both praise and criticism for what some consider copycating. Baymax is Hiro's creation like in the comics, and Tadashi dies a little later in the film for more dramatic effect (the longer you know someone, the more it hurts). It's production goes smoothly, and it's moved up to a Spring release to better coincide with "Frozen" and it's success with it's message of sisterly love. The directors also advocate for it to be 2D, but Disney making $1 billion with "Frozen" makes them hesitant to do so, so they reach a compromise, making the film a hybrid style (somehow developing the tech earlier). This art style, combined with the superhero craze and positive reviews, pushes the film to make $1 billion, or something close to it.

Zootopia--The decision to make the film about a dystopian future where predators are oppressed ends up being the final cut. The film ends up being a bigger sleeper hit than the OG version, since it received controversy in certain countries for the USA making what was perceived to be a propaganda film about human rights and a jab at those specific nations. Of course, the controversy only heightens interest in the film, though Disney tries to smooth this over by clarifying that it wasn't meant to be a propaganda film, though some criticize them for not speaking up for oppressed people in said countries. The 3D art style is kept the same.

Moana--This version makes a few changes: "Moana" takes place in a specific land, (though I personally haven't decided if it's set in Samoa or Tahiti), Moana is a grown adult by this point and has a couple brothers, but not as many as in the concept art, and Maui isn't portrayed as obese and is more athletic, with Dwayne Johnson and Jason Mamoa's figures being a primary inspiration. Moana also practices wayfinding and navigating the seas under Tala's supervision before she goes to find Maui. Moana also isn't as headstrong about seafaring; she still wants to do it, but her mother tells her the story of her father much earlier in order to quell her, and her own accident makes her more hesitant. Maui also isn't a catalyst for all the bad events of the film; Te Fiti's heart is instead taken by selfish seafarers, with the overall message of the film mirroring a love for nature and others. There is also a bit of flirting between Moana and Maui, but the crew wants Moana to focus on her self-finding journey (plus Auli'i is still 14 while Dwayne is 44, so they wanted to avoid controversy), so nothing is concrete. Originally it had the "2D or 3D" crisis, but reached a reverse-"Tangled" situation, now being made as predominantly 3D with 2D watercolor elements. Dinah Jane (who auditioned for Moana IRL) sings the commercial version of "How Far I'll Go" instead of Alessia Cara. It meets the same financial success, with some saying that Moana took all the positive qualities of Ariel and Pocahontas without being held back by her predecessors' flaws. The film also gets a Broadway adaptation, being seen as a standout for it's diversity on the stage, as well as postponing news of a remake and resulting in the sequel being greenlit earlier rather than a show being considered in the interim.

Ralph Breaks the Internet--No major notes, but the references do heighten the Disney princess films and ignite conversations about whether or not critics have treated them unfairly. The film was also argued to be hybrid or 3D animation, but the concern of disconnect made them keep it 2D. It makes about the same in box office.

Frozen II--POSSIBLY released earlier if Disney didn't wait 3 years to greenlight a sequel (I'd put it at 2017 if they decided IMMEDIATELY to make a sequel), but Disney didn't make the mistake of using super young kids for test audiences, and production is MUCH smoother. As such, the more serious aspects of the film are kept, and Hans joins the gang here. The Northuldra are more characters than plot devices, and are diverse in terms of phenotype and genotypes; originally Disney had them mirror Indigenous Americans, but in my version, their Sami influence made some members of the tribe also have European features. Queen Iduna comes from these European members (I feel like that's easier to believe than her coming from the members who appear more Native American), and Elsa doesn't stop living in Arendelle, traveling instead. Agnar and Iduna get their flashbacks to show their relationship, as well as reducing Agnar's criticism as a terrible father. Plus there are FOUR songs marketed: "Lost in the Woods" is made more theatrical than rock-influenced (not that I hated it; it just wasn't right for this film), while edited versions of "Show Yourself" and "The Next Right Thing" (ie an Anna and Elsa duet of "Show Yourself" and lyrics that suggest Anna has been separated from the group in TNRT rather than suggesting the loss of certain characters) are exhibited to be the award contenders. Of course, "Into the Unknown" is still an exec favorite, with "Show Yourself" being a last-minute submission to awards. The film earns significant praise and is still a phenomenon, albeit less of an underrated one. The success of this film leads to the Broadway show being retooled in order to include some elements of the plot and the Northuldra, as well as making about $1.5 billion at the box office thanks to more positive reviews than the OG timeline "Frozen 2" and COVID not being a factor if it was released in 2017.

Raya and the Last Dragon--Right off the bat, the film again goes through the "2D or 3D" question, with 2D winning out, particularly thanks to Scott Watanabe's concept art (not shown here; this is Ryan Lang's). Rather than an amalgamation of Southeast Asia, Kumandra is a land made of five lands inspired by distinct cultures. Raya is the daughter of an emperor influenced by the Vietnamese empire, and the guardian of the dragon gem. Raya originally seeks to restore her land and the others as one nation of unity when the gem is broken and stolen, but recognizes the new nations as independent after realizing that her land (nicknamed "Heart" mockingly by the other regions) may have been too oblivious to the suffering of other people. This film is a musical, and while Kelly Marie Tran still plays Raya's speaking voice, the film takes inspiration from "Tarzan" and "The Lion King: The Gift" by having songs placed over the scenes rather than the characters singing themselves, representing their thoughts. Sisu also comes off a lot more serious and wise, being a mother-like figure to Raya rather than a sister. The voice cast better reflects the SEA culture, and a tighter world/message allows for better word of mouth--plus it's amazing music makes it an instant classic. The diversity and positive reception actually puts it's box office at similar figures to "Demon Slayer: Mugen Train."

Encanto--Mostly the same, except tighter in story. Antonio, Isabella and Luisa spend more time with Mirabel throughout the film to emphasize the family bonds (rather than just Mirabel with Alma and rushing through her relationships with everyone else), and we see more insight into Pepa and Julieta's dynamic. The film makes a bit more money given that it's a phenomenon, but COVID keeps it from doing anything too record-breaking, sadly. "Raya" and "Encanto" being released in the same year to massive success is marked as a legendary year for diversity in Hollywood. It still remains a 3D film.

Strange World--Overhaul, overhaul, overhaul. The story and visuals are more ambitious, and is more science-fantasy than sci-fi. Firstly, the film goes for the hybrid style of animation, since it fits sci-fi genre (or sci-fan in this take) so well, and Ethan is older and is almost the main character instead of his dad (I wanted to make him the main character, but a Disney protagonist in their 40s is pretty rare). The main cast are humanoid aliens that take influence from comic books and anime, mainly the Kree, Tamaraneans, and the Saiyans, with the main theme being rejuvenation and family, essentially a cross between "Moana" "Atlantis," and "Encanto," (with a touch of Fox's "Avatar") with Avalonia's culture being influenced from lesser-known European and Afro-Asiatic cultures. The Clade family works as mercenaries hired by a mysterious benefactor to destroy a rebel group that seeks to threaten Avalonia--but when the truth comes out, they may find themselves rogues in order to save their world. Disney actually promotes this movie like CRAZY due to COVID, and it makes around $300 million, with praise going for it's plot being unique among Disney films. Disney's sequel fever is a bit altered due to this (ie Zootopia 2 being released in spring of 2025 instead of fall, mirroring the first film's release date).

Wish--Disney utilizes MANY original concepts, such as human Star (who's the son of Magnifico and Amaya here), while Amaya is the evil queen from the get-go, and Magnifico struggles between good and evil due to his trauma. Asha's friend group is more prominent, and she's a much more shy and reserved protagonist. Asha's design is influenced by the Mowry sisters, who both have their own past with Disney. Disney uses the Anderson-Lopez team for the music since they already were working on a Spain-inspired film for Disney (not sure if Julia is entirely to blame for the music, though, and should their use in "Wish" affect their work with the "Frozen" franchise? Julia still sings the end credits song, though). The filmmakers EXTENSIVELY watch classic and modern Disney films, as well as "Enchanted" (because duh), and try to use abandoned concepts from other Disney films to use for "Wish." They opt to make the film 2D with 3D elements (ie magic and effects) to acknowledge Disney's history. The film achieves over $600 in box office, and Asha is inducted into the Disney princess line, as well as the movie earning praise for it's depth and tackling of complex themes such as wishes, dreams, and loss, including how what you want and what you need aren't synonymous. Currently undergoing a stage adaptation, something Disney wanted to keep under wraps but was eager to announce to carry over the 100 years celebration.

I know this is a bit of an odd post, and I'm sure others would have more creative ideas on an alternate timeline, but I wanted to utilize what we had. Perhaps I'll come back and edit this to include scrapped Disney movies.

[wehangout]

@silvanshadow really made me work for their @galladrabbles prompt "you're my friend, you're my lover, wanna bite you" but I managed to make it angsty 😂 Parts 1-4 here

“I talked to Mandy.”

You sigh, aware you won’t get a straight answer anytime soon.

“Said she hasn’t talked to you since …”

You speak up when he doesn’t continue. “Since she left for Indiana.”

“Yeah.” Gallagher flushes. “Since that summer.”

There’s a new ache in your chest with those words. That summer? Ian was your lover, your partner, your best friend. He was your everything and he broke you. And now you want to reach over, tear out his heart, and take a fucking bite just so he feels an ounce of the pain he caused you that summer.

[bellaxgiornata]

Keep Me Warm

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: After Michael cancels your date night because something came up with his family, you're surprised to find him on your doorstep drenched and shivering from the rain.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ because this is mainly just smut, friends

a/n: It has been far too long that I've been writing for Michael without giving him smut and that changes now! This one was also was written for Mandy's Sweater Weather Challenge by the wonderful @she-likesorchids using the prompt "Get inside, you're all wet!" Feedback is always appreciated!

Warmly cocooned in your navy blue blanket, you were curled up on your sofa with the glow from your television softly washing over you in your sitting room. Your empty wine glass sat long forgotten on your coffee table beside an empty takeout container, the buzz from the wine still lingering in your system and relaxing you further into the cushions. While you sat comfortably enraptured by the romantic comedy you’d decided to put on for the evening, the soft patter of autumn rain and the distant roll of thunder enveloped your house outside. 

Initially you’d hoped to be spending your Saturday night with Michael, not alone on your sofa watching fictional couples falling in love. The pair of you were supposed to have gone out for dinner tonight for what would have been your third date, but something had come up with his family’s business–which you knew he’d been trying to find a way out of lately. He’d been incredibly apologetic when he’d called you a few hours ago to cancel, and you’d been understanding but secretly disappointed because it had been a long awaited third date. 

You’d had a crush on Michael since you first met him just over a year ago, having accidentally bumped into him at the market while picking out produce. The pair of you had gotten together for friendly reasons after a handful of more fortuitous run-ins at the market–going book shopping, on coffee dates, or having occasional dinners at your house–but they had always been under the pretense of friendship. Until you’d accidentally slipped up and blurted that you’d found him attractive a month ago and he’d shortly afterwards asked you on a date.

And tonight, after that date, you’d admittedly been hoping to do more than just exchange a few sweet kisses with him.

Though you pushed those thoughts aside, trying to ignore that lingering bit of disappointment you’d spent your evening attempting to drown out with the takeout and wine. Michael had rescheduled with you for next Saturday night at least. And, if you were really that desperate, it wasn’t like you couldn’t have a date with your vibrator before bed tonight, even if you’d have preferred Michael.

A handful of hurried, sharp raps against your front door abruptly rang out through your house, breaking you from your thoughts. You jumped on the sofa at the unexpected knocking, startling at the sound as your heart skipped a beat in your chest. Eyes darting to your front door across the room, you felt a bolt of fear quickly shoot through you. Who would’ve been stopping by unannounced this late and in the middle of a storm? 

When another round of knocks sounded a few moments later, this time not as urgent as before, you hesitantly began to unwrap yourself from within the comfortable and safe confines of your blanket. Leaning forward, you pushed the pause button on the television remote beside your wine glass before standing up. Cautiously you made your way over to the front door, nervously unlocking it before very slowly pulling it open.

A surprised gasp slipped out of you when you found Michael drenched on your front step, his dark hair matted to his head from the rain. A few beads of water were dripping down his forehead and his chin, the black sweater he was wearing clinging to his muscled upper torso. Your eyes were unable to resist lowering and lingering on the visible definition of his body beneath the soaked material, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight. Momentarily you wondered how he'd look without the sweater until a crack of distant thunder quickly brought your attention back up to Michael’s face. He was sheepishly smiling back at you. 

"Michael!" you exclaimed in surprise, your brain abruptly restarting as you stepped to the side and quickly waved him into your house. "Get inside, you're all wet!"

Following your order, Michael stepped inside past you, his arms wrapping around himself as he did. You closed the door after him before turning back around. He was still shooting you that sheepish smile, his sopping wet clothes dripping water onto your wood floor. 

"'M really sorry to pop in on ya like this, pet," he told you.

"What're you doing out walking in the freezing rain, Mikey?" you asked, concern creasing your brow. "There's a storm going on and you're out wandering around in it. And I thought you had a…family thing tonight?"

Michael unwrapped one arm from around himself, awkwardly rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. His gaze dropped down to the floor, that bit of timidness you sometimes saw in him on full display at the moment. Somehow that shyness only ever made you like him more.

"I don't–don't exactly know what came over me but I just–just had to get away from that house tonight. And my family–" he broke off with a grimace, shaking his head. "It just was not a good night and I needed to blow off some steam. And unfortunately it started to downpour while I was out walkin'. Sort of…somehow found myself here."

He wrapped his arm back around himself, hugging his chest as his gaze remained on your floor. Your heart ached for him. You knew how much he wanted out of his family’s drug dealing business and how they were making his life more difficult because of it. Though when you saw him visibly shudder from the cold, your concern for him in the moment took right back over. 

"Shit, you must be freezing," you said, crossing the distance between you both.

Gently you rested your hands over his, hissing in surprise at how cold his actually were to the touch. Michael's head rose up as he caught your eye, a small grin on his lips as you covered his hands with yours, hoping to help warm them.

"Well, I'll tell ya it wasn't the smartest thing I've done today, walkin' in the freezing rain like that," he replied with a laugh. "Then comin' here and botherin' ya."

"You're not bothering me, Mikey," you assured him, swiftly gesturing a hand to your sitting room where your empty remnants of dinner still sat on the coffee table. "It's not like I was in the middle of anything."

Michael glanced over his shoulder at your coffee table, a frown slipping onto his mouth as another chill raced through him. With your hands still wrapped around his, you could feel the way his body had shook this time. 

"Pet, I'm–I'm so sorry I canceled on ya tonight," Michael said, his teeth briefly chattering as he spoke. "Didn't mean to ruin your evenin'."

"You didn't ruin my evening, but now I'm concerned about you. You’re clearly cold," you told him, your hands rubbing over the backs of his. "I can offer you a towel to dry off a bit, but maybe you'd like to use the shower to warm up instead? I can throw your wet clothes in the dryer for a few minutes while you do. Might help you warm up faster."

One corner of Michael’s lips slowly curved upwards into a cheeky smirk. The sight of it on his face was quickly drawing heat into your cheeks and you hoped he couldn’t tell.

"Are ya just tryin' to get me outta my clothes, pet?" Michael teased. 

"What?" you gasped, eyes wide. "No! I just thought that you–you might–"

"Relax," he said with a chuckle. "I'm just teasin’ ya. But…I wouldn't mind takin' ya up on the offer. I am freezin' my arse off right 'bout now."

Releasing his hands, you stepped back and nodded vigorously at him. "Yeah, right. Of course. Just uh, just hop in the shower and leave your clothes on the floor next to the door. I'll throw them in the dryer when you're in the shower."

Michael nodded, slipping his wet shoes off of his feet where he stood. You watched him, gnawing nervously on your bottom lip and struggling not to picture him naked in your shower. Your eyes once again lingered on the way his damp sweater clung to the muscles in his back as he bent down, picking up his shoes from the floor before walking past you and placing them on the shoe rack beside your door. He sent you a smile as he stood back up, one that had your face further flaming.

"Just goin' to grab that shower then," he said, gesturing behind himself with one hand while the other rubbed his arm for warmth. 

You cleared your throat, a strained smile forming on your lips as your heart began to beat a little harder in your chest. Michael had always had an effect on you, but it had become vastly harder to ignore now that you knew he had feelings for you, too. But as you told him where to find the clean towels in the bathroom, you couldn’t help but feel desperate to follow after him and join.

As Michael made his way towards your bathroom, softly shuttling the door behind himself and turning on the shower, you tried to give him time to get undressed and into it before you grabbed his clothes to put into the dryer. Attempting to distract yourself from the rush of inappropriate thoughts suddenly racing through your mind, you headed back into the sitting room and turned off your television before focusing on cleaning up your empty glass of wine and the take out container on your coffee table. 

By the time you'd finished cleaning up and straightening your house a bit, you figured Michael would be in the shower and you could step in and grab his clothes. Making your way down the hallway and towards the bathroom, you stopped beside it, leaning up against the wall and knocking lightly against the door. 

"I'm just going to grab your clothes to toss into the dryer, if that's alright?" you called through the door to Michael.

"Thank ya, pet," Michael called back.

Closing your eyes, you mentally prepared yourself to not try to immediately sneak a peak of him through the glass shower door. Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes and slowly twisted the handle of the door, keeping your gaze averted towards the ground as you opened it. 

Exactly as you’d asked, he'd placed his clothes on the floor beside the door. But just as you reached down to grab the damp pile to put into the dryer, you heard the glass door of the shower open and you startled at the sound. Unable to stop yourself, your eyes darted up to see Michael’s face poking out from around the glass. Bottom lip rolling between your teeth, you bit down hard and forced yourself to keep your focus on just his face, though you knew if you looked down–just for a second–you’d get a view of his naked body behind the frosted and steamed up shower door. And it was truly hard to resist that temptation, especially with the way he was shooting you a knowing smile right now.

"Unless ya want to join me?" he asked.

Your brows jumped up onto your forehead in surprise. That was not what you’d expected to hear him say, but nevertheless, a spark of excitement shot through your body at his invitation. 

“If ya want, of course,” he added. “Wouldn’t mind ya helpin’ to keep me warm, pet.”

It felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs with the way he’d said that in such a sultry tone, continuing to stare at you while he was entirely naked from the inside of your shower. Swallowing hard, you tried to regain the ability to speak again before he took your silence to mean the opposite of what it really meant.

“I–yeah, if you–you’d like,” you stammered.

You dropped his clothes from your hand, hearing the way they landed back to the floor with a soft, wet thump . As you stepped further into the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door after yourself, Michael slid the shower door wider open, giving you an unobstructed view of himself. Hands grabbing onto the hem of your shirt, your eyes dropped down, tongue darting out and wetting your lips when you saw that he was already half hard.

“Might’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout ya already,” he confessed.

His words went straight to your cunt as you began to remove your shirt, though you saw his eyes lower towards your chest just before you pulled it up and over your head. A needy heat began to grow between your thighs as you tossed the shirt onto the bathroom floor. Reaching behind yourself, you undid the clasp of your bra, a thrill racing up your spine as you watched the longing grow on Michael’s face, his eyes still fixed on your chest. You intentionally slid the straps of your bra down your arms slowly, taking your time removing it before you tossed it aside. You saw the way Michael’s nostrils flared as you began to slip out of your sweatpants and underwear, his jaw tensed as you tugged them halfway down your legs until they dropped to the bathroom floor beside his wet clothes. 

As you stepped out of them, entirely naked now, Michael’s eyes openly and hungrily raked over your body. It felt like his gaze alone was raising goosebumps over your bare skin as you made your way over to the shower. He moved out of the way of the entrance, giving you room to step inside beside him under the warm spray. The water felt good against your skin, managing to heat you further as that sexy smirk only grew on Michael’s lips.

His hands gently landed on your hips, eagerly smoothing his palms over your slippery and damp skin. Your own hands lightly landed on the thick, wet hair along his chest. Appreciatively you began carding your fingers through it, nails lightly scratching along his chest as you admired the muscles beneath your fingers. Michael hummed out a pleased noise in response, his hands gripping your hips a bit more roughly in return.

Eventually your hands rose back up his chest, your palms splayed wide along the width of it just below his collarbones. You gently pushed Michael another couple of steps backwards into the shower, your confidence growing along with his erection. Reaching one hand behind yourself to close the shower door, you felt Michael’s hands make their way further up your naked body, gliding over the sides of your ribcage as a shudder ran through you.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Michael murmured, his eyes appreciatively roaming over you.

A soft gasp left you as Michael’s hands slid just a bit higher, eventually coming to palm your breasts. He kneaded them in his hands, your eyelids fluttering as you fought to keep them open. It should’ve been impossible how good he was making you feel with only his touch, yet a moan vibrated up from out of your throat and only further encouraged him. As he continued to knead your breasts in his hands, your right hand snaked its way up over his shoulder until you were wrapping your arm around his neck, pulling his naked body in towards yours. You felt his hard cock pressing against you instantly and your cunt throbbed in anticipation of him finally fucking you with it. 

“You know,” you began softly, leaning in a bit closer to him, “I was thinking this wasn’t going to happen tonight.”

The corner of Michael’s lips twitched as he lowered his face towards yours, closing the gap even further as his hands released your breasts, dropping back down to grip your hips again. They involuntarily jerked towards him at the touch, a faint moan slipping out of you as more wet heat grew between your thighs. 

Fuck you wanted him so goddamn bad.

“Yeah?” he asked, clearly pleased with your response. “This what ya had planned for after dinner tonight, pet?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed out.

Your left hand lowered until you were wrapping it around the base of his cock, grinning at the way he jolted under your touch. Michael let out a low groan of pleasure after, his eyes becoming half-lidded as you gradually began to stroke the length of him. His forehead dropped down to yours, his warm breath tickling you with each exhale.

“Feeling any warmer?” you asked him.

“Mmm, much,” he whispered. 

Continuing to stroke him in your hand, your movements languid and unhurried, you closed the last bit of space between your mouths. Michael’s lips still felt slightly chilled against yours as you kissed him, but they were as plush as you’d last remembered them being. And like hell if he didn’t know what to do with that mouth of his, too.

Though it seemed like he was intentionally teasing you now with the way his lips moved so delicately against yours, kissing you so gentle and slow that you soon found yourself impatient for more. Your arm tightened around his neck, drawing you in tighter to the front of him as a needy noise slipped out of your mouth and into his. One of his hands on your hip began gradually sliding its way down the outside of your thigh until it came to a stop, pausing before changing its trajectory. His fingers began to reach ever nearer to your cunt and you soon found yourself whining against his mouth in anticipation of his touch. 

The hand you had on the back of his neck made its way further upwards into his hair, gripping a fistful of his wet, dark strands as your hips ground forward into his hand in needy desperation. Michael only continued to kiss you with that same sluggish pace, the tips of his fingers lightly grazing your clit as his other palm rubbed slow circles along your outer thigh.

Another pitiful whine left you when Michael’s lips broke away from yours, hovering just an inch from your mouth. Your hand began to stroke his cock faster in desperation, but Michael only nudged his nose softly against yours.

“Mikey,” you whimpered. “I need you.”

The deep, resonate chuckle that fell from him next echoed faintly in the shower. He hummed out a playful noise, the tip of one of his fingers intentionally brushing your clit with just a bit more pressure than before. You sucked in an audible breath at his touch, your eyes snapping shut.

“I can tell, pet,” he teased. “Though I think the question now is: d’ya want me to touch ya or d’ya want me to fuck ya?”

A shiver ran through you at his question. Truthfully you wanted both of those things, but you weren’t sure you could wait much longer for him, not with the way your cunt was practically dripping in barely contained anticipation already. Maybe once you were out of the shower you two could take your time in your bedroom with each other, but if he didn’t stuff you with his cock sometime soon, you were certainly going to lose your mind.

“I want you to fuck me, Mikey,” you answered, trying and failing to hide the absolute need in your voice. “We can save the foreplay for later. I just–just need you right now. Please .”

He nearly purred in response, the pad of one of his fingers sliding between your wet folds. You gasped in surprise, your hips involuntarily grinding down against his lone finger, hungry for more of him. 

“Yeah?” he mused. “Goin’ to want more than one go, are ya?”

You whimpered when his finger found your soaked entrance, gently toying with you. You leaned forward, roughly connecting your mouth back to his, tired of the waiting and the teasing. When the tip of his finger briefly dipped only partially inside of you before retreating, your teeth clamped down onto his bottom lip and tugged . A rumbling growl reverberated in Michael’s chest instantly, his expression suddenly darkening.

“Can't wait anymore, can ya? Then turn ‘round for me, pet,” Michael ordered huskily, gesturing with his head to the glass of the shower. “Face the door.”

Without hesitation you did what he asked, both of your hands landing flat on the cool glass of the shower door. Michael’s hands grabbed your hips, pulling them towards himself as he positioned you. Your eyes closed when you felt one of his hands running along your ass, admiring the soft, wet flesh as he lined himself up with your entrance. The warm spray of the shower overhead was falling onto your back now, the chill of the air on your damp breasts along with the anticipation of Michael filling you causing your nipples to stiffen.

Thankfully Michael had decided to stop teasing you, not making you wait much longer before you felt him push just the tip of himself inside of you. Your head rolled back over your shoulders, a contented groan slipping out between your lips. He already felt so fucking good and he wasn’t even fully inside of you. Hands pressing firmer against the shower door, you whimpered as your cunt squeezed the bit of him inside of you. Michael loosed a low moan of his own that had your breath catching.

"Want all of you, Mikey," you breathed out. "Please."

Very gradually he pushed himself further into you, another moan slipping out between your lips at the slow, delicious drag of him filling you so fully. Seconds later you felt his now warm mouth landing on your shoulder, trailing soft kisses down the length of it as he continued to gradually sink himself into you. 

“ Michael ,” you moaned out, fingers curling against the glass. 

He felt so damn good as he bottomed out inside of you, your cunt pleasantly stretching to fit the girth of him. Another whimper slipped out of you, your head dropping farther back over your shoulder as Michael pressed the front of himself into you, his thighs flush to the back of yours now. 

“That’s it, pet,” he whispered against your shoulder, lips brushing your wet skin as he spoke. “So good for me. Been thinkin’ ‘bout this for so, so long with ya. Goin' to make sure ya know how much I been wantin' ya."

You inhaled sharply at his words, the hair raising along your arms at the sound of them whispered so close to your ear. With his left hand still firmly gripping your waist, his hips carefully drew back as his right hand flew forward and landed on the top of yours. Entwining his fingers with your own, your hand still pressed against the cold glass, he began to thrust himself back into you. 

That first glide of him sent your head further back, landing on his shoulder behind you with how close he was standing. Michael’s fingers tightened around yours, a rumbling moan vibrating deep in his chest that you felt against your back as he began to pick up his pace. As he continued to slam into you over and over, the wet sound loud in the shower, his head turned as he focused on you.

“ Fuck ya feel so goddamn perfect ,” he panted out, his eyes tightening in pleasure as his hips snapped forward yet again. "So wet for me, pet."

Your cunt gripped him at the praise, your eyes closing. He continued to steadily fuck you against the glass, soft grunts falling from his lips and right into your ear with each sharp snap of his hips, the noise drowning out the spray of the shower. That coiling pleasure in your stomach began to tighten, your left hand leaving the glass to reach back behind you, grabbing onto the back of Michael’s neck as he continued to fuck you from behind. Michael hissed in pleasure when your nails raked up the sensitive skin there, his mouth still beside your ear. 

"Don't stop, Mikey," you whispered. "Feels so good."

“Not stoppin’ ‘til you’re cummin’ on my cock, pet,” he panted out, his hips still enthusiastically ramming into you repeatedly. “Want to hear ya whimperin’ my name between those pretty lips o’ yours.”

A soft whine dragged itself out of your throat, your eyes tightening closed at his words. His hand tightened around yours on the glass as he continued to fuck you, a delicious pleasure continually building low in your core. 

Between the fervid thrusts of his cock and the way his damp body had molded itself to the back of yours, you quickly began to feel yourself climbing that peak. You were nearing the moment you’d crest it with each and every vigorous slam of his thick cock hitting you exactly where you needed him, and you could feel that resulting delicious sting shooting its way up your spine until you were literally panting heavily, your head still limp against his shoulder behind you. 

“Mikey– fuck , yes–so close, baby,” you breathed out.

At your words, he picked up his pace to something fierce, his left hand snaking its way down your hip until his fingers were rubbing tantalizing circles over your clit, the heel of his palm pressing you back into him. Your eyes rolled back behind closed lids, mouth going slack instantly as a moan tumbled out of you. 

As he continued to roughly fuck you into the cool glass of your shower, your left hand slid higher up the back of his neck, fisting a handful of his hair as you felt the wash of pleasure race its way up through your body. Moments later you came hard on his cock, crying his name out loudly as it echoed off the tile of the shower walls. It wasn’t long before Mikey was soon following after you, his hips picking up their pace as he let out a low, sinful groan that left you whimpering in his arms. Your entire body soon went limp against him behind you as he filled you with his warm release, your head entirely weightless as it rested on his broad shoulder behind you where it rose and fell with the heaving of his chest. His loud, panting breaths filled your ears as you gradually opened your eyes and took in the sight of him.

The moment his gaze caught yours, a drowsy smile lit up his face while you sent him one clearly drunk on bliss and pleasure. With a soft chuckle he leaned forward, placing a few gentle kisses to your temple before he slowly slipped himself out from inside of you. 

“Hadn’t expected my evenin’ to go this way,” Michael admitted, his arm wrapping around your waist and snuggly pulling you against the front of himself. “But I’m certainly not regrettin’ that walk in the rain now.”

You giggled, your eyes dropping closed again as your left hand wrapped over the top of his. Both of your other hands were still enjoined on the glass door of the shower, Michael squeezing yours affectionately in response as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, the rasp of his beard on your skin sending a shiver through you.

“I’m certainly not regretting it now, either,” you teased back. “And maybe once you finally get warm after that walk, we can go not regret it a little more, if you’d like?”

“Mmm,” he hummed out beside your ear, his lips dropping down to lightly kiss your neck. “I think I’m already warm after that, pet. Wouldn’t mind takin’ ya to bed though.”

A grin slipped over your mouth as you slightly turned in Michael’s hold, facing him just a bit more. “Unfortunately I didn't have a chance to dry your clothes," you pointed out. "So they're still soaked."

He placed a lingering, open-mouthed kiss on your skin and a rush of heat once again raced through your body. Soon after, Michael’s teeth began to leave light nips along your neck, his hand reaching out behind himself to turn off the shower. 

"I assure ya, pet,” he murmured into your skin, "I'm not goin' to need them tonight."

[thepupperino]

Galladrabbles #127 - “Safe & Sound” by Tonight Alive

Hi @deathclassic!! Thanks for this week’s @galladrabbles prompt. I love a song prompt so you may or may not see me again 👀

“And I'm dying to know what it is that you're thinking”

- - - - -

The worst thing about this giant crush is he can’t even talk to anyone about it.

Lip knows, but he doesn’t get it.

Mandy doesn’t know, and she can’t.

And Mickey won’t talk about it.

He makes all these comments, acts like he doesn’t care, and most of the time Ian thinks he can see straight through it. Every now and then, though, he wonders, wishes Mickey would just be honest for once and tell him what he’s really thinking. It’s not like they need to be boyfriends or whatever, but a little more give and take would be nice.

[missiletoe]

urk i think i'm starting to get writer's block but here's another fill i did for the yuri shipping olympics, this one for @magicmooshka's hit comic, GO GIRL GO! (everyone should go read it if they haven't already)

Ship: Mandy/Kiara Word Count: 673 Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff Prompt:

A Bouquet for Courting:

Combine the following in a bouquet fastened with a silky red ribbon: Blush Roses for blossoming romance Cornflower for hope in love Sweet William for gallantry Honeysuckle for devoted affection

----------------------------------------------------------

Mandy is skeptical when she receives the bouquet. Her cheeks are flushed a bright red that puts the blush roses to shame and Kiara chuckles.

“What is this?” Mandy asks, eyeing the petals warily. She already has her hands shoved into the pockets of her cargo shorts but she pushes them in another two inches deeper. “Is this a break-up bouquet?”

Kiara laughs at the ridiculousness of the notion. The stammering, the side-eyes, the anxious glances even as her eyes light up with the proposition–these are all par for the course for Mandy.

“No, it’s not a break-up bouquet,” she replies evenly. The lady at the register had tied the whole thing together with a silk red ribbon and she twirls it absent-mindedly around one finger. “Come here and I’ll tell you what each one means.”

Mandy steals closer like a reluctant cat. She has a scowl affixed to her face but she gingerly scoots the few inches across the couch to close the distance and tucks her head into the crook of Kiara’s neck. She’s close enough that Kiara can wrap her free arm around her shoulders and though Mandy jumps at the contact, she doesn’t shrug it off like she would have a couple months ago. Small steps but they’re getting there.

“You’re sure it’s not a break-up bouquet?” Mandy says again and Kiara laughs as she rubs small circles into her skin.

“Positive,” she replies and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Mandy keeps her hair short but it still has a bad tendency of getting in her eyes. “Let me show you what they mean.”

Mandy’s still eyeing the flowers like they’re a ticking time bomb but she doesn’t make any sounds of protest. The grumpy cat plastered onto her shirt does all the frowning for her though. (The colors are fading from the washer but Mandy loves that shirt to death and refuses to give it up to the donation trucks. Besides, Kiara thinks it’s cute.)

She pulls a rose out by the stem and kisses the petals before offering it to her. Mandy fumbles to hold it, dropping it once on the carpet before curling her hand around it in a fist like she’s trying to choke it.

“Blush roses represent blossoming romance.”

“B-Blossoming romance,” Mandy echoes, tripping over the words and Kiara can’t think of anything more adorable. 

She plucks a blue one out of the bouquet next.

“Cornflowers for hope in love,” she says and Mandy adds it to the collection in her clenched fist. The stems bend dangerously from the pressure. “Honeysuckles for devoted affection.”

Kiara picks the fourth and final type of flower from the center, Mandy’s gaze fixed on the motion.

“And Sweet Williams for gallantry.” When Mandy goes in to grab it, Kiara places a kiss on the back of her hand and all the flowers go tumbling to the floor in a colorful explosion.

“I thought the flowers would look good on the dining table,” she says, pressing another kiss–this time to the inside of Mandy’s wrist–before she can recover.

Mandy’s like an overloaded server–steam practically blowing out of her ears.

“Right,” she echoes although Kiara knows she has no idea what she’s agreeing to. She kisses the top of her head and Mandy flushes brighter than a red rose.

“Happy anniversary, Mandy,” she says, smiling. The fading sunset bathes them both in gold. “Love you.”

Mandy looks left, then right, then left again like she’s about to cross a busy intersection and Kiara has a feeling that’s an accurate representation of what’s happening in her mind. She squeezes her eyes shut and then pushes herself off against the couch to crane her neck upwards. Kiara thinks she’s aiming for her cheek but the kiss lands on her nose instead and then she’s too embarrassed to try again.

Mandy won’t look up from where she’s buried herself into Kiara’s shirt, cheeks flushed, but Kiara can still make out her words.

“Happy anniversary, Kiara. I love you too.”

[f1crecs]

The f1crecs team is looking to grow ❤️

The f1crecs blog is currently run by a team of nine fic rec'ing wizards. We love maintaining the blog, but as time goes on and things pop up, we have found ourselves needing a bit more help.

We are therefore looking for 1 - 5 more people to help us with the research, requesting, and formatting of lists.

In the near future, we will be working on lists such as:

👉 Royalty AUs 👉 Fake Dating 👉 Carlos/Oscar 👉 Omegaverse 👉 And many, many more, covering all tropes and all pairings.

Fancy getting involved? Please see below the cut for details.

Thank you!

Briony, Katie, Tia, Alison, Caroleen, Clara, Mandy, Leaf & Esra x

What would I be doing?

You would be putting forward fics to include on the fic rec lists on the @f1crecs blog, based on a given prompt. This could be a pairing (maxiel/piarles/strollonso) or a trope (soulmates/coffee shop au/canon divergence). This would include you selecting a favourite quote from the fic or a brief summary of why you enjoyed it. You could also help with finding fics, formatting posts, answering asks, or curating specific list types (e.g., WIP wednesday or 'megaverse Monday).

How would it work?

🔸️ You will join the f1crecs Discord Server.

🔸️ We receive requests for rec lists through the blog's inbox, and share them in the Discord server.

🔸️ We have channels to work together to compile the lists.

🔸️ We decide together on a banner image and any other text needed.

🔸️ We format the post and publish to the blog, crediting you in the body of the post.

🔸️ We work on five or so requests at a time, dependent on numbers.

What pairings do you need help with?

All of them! I am looking for support with all pairings and tropes - I believe that rec blogs are stronger when run by a team, as they have more eyes and are less likely to forget or miss something. 😊

Due to gaps in knowledge, the areas we need most support on are:

💖 Maxiel fics

💖 Omegaverse fics

💖 Sebastian, Daniel, Valtteri, Mick, and Lewis centric fics

💖 Rare Pair fics

💖 Gen fics

But as I said - whatever your favourite pairing, you are welcome here and your knowledge will be much appreciated 🤍

Important Points

I ask for permission from EVERY author that I want to feature on a fic rec list. By joining the blog team, you would agree to do the same. If we are not given permission to list the fic, or if the author does not respond within one week of our request, the fic does not get included on the list (or any future list). You will be given a template to make these requests, to make this easier. 🥰

When compiling the lists, I include my favourite quote from the fic or a couple of sentences about why I enjoyed it. Please consider if this is something you'd be willing to do.

We have all kinds of pairings and character requests come through to the inbox. f1crecs is a neutral space, with no driver, ship, or trope hate allowed.

This blog is f1 only. At least one person in the pairing must be, or have been, in f1 - or, if gen, the central character must be or have been in f1.

How do I express interest/ask questions?

Please message the blog's creator - @boxboxbrioche - to show your interest.

Thank you!

[reasonsmandy]

Private Drum Lessons

Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — ¹ omg can you do prompts 50, 11, and 23 for our fav drummer warren rojas? ² I really like your works. And I see you're taking a request. I would like to see Warren Rojas x Reader with prompt number 50. Thank you.🫶🏼

✧.* summary — You had only one rule in place for yourself: Don't get romantically involved with anyone you work with. However, Warren Rojas made you change all your plans.

✧.* warnings — slightly smut content. MINORS DNI

✧.* word count — 4.0k

✧.* 🥁 — Warren's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — You have no idea how much I loved writing this, now i want a "forbidden" romance with my favorite drummer.

You tried your best to keep your relationships with any band you managed strictly professional, you had already had many negative experiences in this environment, even more so for being a woman in it. So your best decision was never to mix any relationship to avoid future problems, but Warren Rojas changed everything.

When you first met Warren, you were struck by his talent and charisma. When you agreed to manage the band, you already had great ideas for the tour, they were the most famous band at the moment and having them as clients was a huge milestone for your career. You knew that it was important to maintain a professional relationship with all of the members, but there was something about Rojas that made it difficult to keep things strictly business.

The invitation to work with them came from Daisy, she had heard about your work from Simone and was delighted with what you had done on other projects of yours, Billy was reluctant at first but after getting to know your work he accepted.

You scheduled a meeting with the whole band to decide the main concept of the tour and the musicians' wishes regarding it, and that was the day you met Warren Rojas.

At your first meeting, you tried to ignore the flutter in your stomach as Warren introduced himself. He was handsome and charming, with a mischievous glint in his eye that made your heart skip a beat. You tried to focus on the task at hand, discussing the band's upcoming tour and the logistics involved, but every time the drummer spoke, you found yourself getting lost in his voice.

You immediately tried to remember all your principles regarding your work, it was difficult to keep your attention on the plans and write everything down correctly, because for some reason every time he smiled you felt a shiver on your whole body. He seemed to notice this because whenever he looked at you he would smile with his tongue between his teeth, a classic way he used to flirt without any words.

But that wasn't the first time he had seen you, in fact he had watched you since the first time you got to know the band's sound on live. Daisy called you on the phone and said that they were interested in having you as their manager, you clearly knew who they were, but you pretended you didn't and said that before accepting you would have to see a rehearsal of them to know if the band was your profile.

So that day was the first time Warren saw you, he was struck by your beauty. You were standing at the side of the stage, clipboard in hand, watching the band's soundcheck with a critical eye. Your pretty hair cascaded over your shoulders, and your eyes were being illuminated by the sunlight.

Warren couldn't help but feel a flutter in his stomach as he watched you move gracefully across the stage, making notes on your clipboard. He had always been drawn to strong, confident women, and you exuded that in spades.

He had heard that you were the new manager for the band, but he hadn't had a chance to talk to you yet. He wondered if you would be interested in him, if you felt the same attraction that he did. Billy was always very stressed when they had to present to anyone, and with that he was bizarrely more demanding of everyone, so that day he could only watch you from afar thinking about how your voice would sound, and looking forward to having a conversation with you.

…

Despite your best efforts to maintain a professional distance from Warren, you found yourself increasingly drawn to him. There was something about the way he played the drums, the way his body moved to the rhythm of the music, the way he always made funny faces while playing 'Aurora', the way he loved playing with the sticks drawing your attention to the agility of his fingers, that sent shivers down your spine.

You tried to focus on your job as the band's manager, but you couldn't help stealing glances at Rojas whenever he was around. He seemed to sense your attraction to him, and he began to flirt with you shamelessly, always finding a way to be close to you. And fucking hell you loved it.

The way your name sounded on his lips made you imagine how it would sound under different circumstances, you couldn't help but picture different scenarios with the drummer. Every time he got close you wanted to feel his touch, feel his lips against your skin, and it was driving you crazy more and more.

You kept trying to resist his charms, reminding yourself that getting involved with a band member was a terrible idea. But as the weeks went by, you found it harder and harder to ignore the chemistry between you two.

…

They were performing the second show, you could hear the crowd cheering and applauding. One by one they came in to thank everyone and say their goodbyes. When they came backstage and you greeted them with a big smile and said "Congratulations, you killed it!" to each one of them.

Billy didn't take long to retire to his bus, Daisy called you to the party but you said you had a lot to get ready for the next trip and maybe next time you would go, you saw Eddie, Graham and Karen leave with the redhead and you said a quick goodbye to them.

While you were trying to focus on getting things in place, the presence of the drummer didn't allow you to concentrate, you could feel his gaze on your every move which made you get goosebumps. You gather your courage and turn to face him, hands on your hips and eyebrow arched.

"Can I help you with something Warren?" You ask, trying to maintain your composure but now you face him you notice how handsome he looked that night.

"Why are you running away from me?" He asks without presumption, causing you to be caught unnoticed.

You try to keep your voice steady as you speak to him, but you can feel the desire building inside you.

"I'm not running away from you, Warren. I'm just trying to do my job." You try to keep calm, but with each step he takes closer to you, you shiver.

"Come on, Y/N. You can't deny that there's something here. I can feel it every time we're in the same room." He got closer, and this time you didn't try to get away from him anymore, you couldn't.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You become aware of yourself again, pulling away from him.

"I bet you think about me all the time, don't you? Dreaming of what it would be like to have me." He bites his lip, then smiles.

You drop your gaze to the ground, avoiding looking at him any further.

"Warren, I can't." You keep your eyes on anything but him.

"I know you're trying to be professional, but you can't deny the chemistry between us. It's like fireworks." He holds your hands in his, and you bring your gaze to the drummer, feeling such fireworks in your stomach.

"Rojas, I'm serious." You say it more like a whisper, even though your words said the contrary your body showed that you wanted him.

"You can't resist me, can you?" Warren says, a smirk on his face. "Even when you're trying so hard to play it cool, I can see right through you."

You frown, trying to control the beating of your heart that begged you to kiss that man in front of you.

"You don't know a goddamn thing." Your voice was weak, as were your legs with his presence so close.

"Yeah, maybe you're right and I don't know shit." He says still with that damn smile on his face. "But I know about me, and I guarantee you Y/N… every time I see you, I just want to throw you on that couch and have my way with you."

"Fucking hell Rojas." You utter, feeling more and more the urge to surrender to him. "I made just one fucking rule, I can't."

"Just one night, no one will know." He leans closer, kissing your cheek. "You know what they say, mi amor. The forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest. Don't you want to try a little taste?"

"Fuck you!" You exclaim, kissing him with every desire you had.

As your lips meet his, a shiver runs down your spine. You can feel his warmth, his strength, his desire, all pressed up against you. His lips are soft and firm all at once, his tongue expertly exploring your mouth. You find yourself losing control, your hands running through his hair as you pull him closer. The kiss is deep and intense, full of longing and hunger that has been building between you for so long. You can feel yourself getting lost in the moment, forgetting everything else except for the sensation of his lips on yours.

You feel a spark of electricity run through your body, a sensation that you've been longing for since the moment you laid eyes on him. His lips are soft, yet firm against yours, as his hands caress your back, pulling you closer. The kiss is heated and intense, filled with all the pent-up desire and tension that has been building between the two of you. You can taste the sweetness of his lips, the scent of his cologne enveloping you. It's a kiss that feels like it could last forever, and you don't want it to end.

…

You swore that after that night that desire you had for the drummer would disappear and you would finally do your job without distraction. But you were wrong, everyday when you saw those brown eyes on you you remembered the way he looked at you while kissing your thighs, every time you saw those curls you remembered how it felt to have them between your fingers as he kissed your neck, this man was driving you crazy, you couldn't stop thinking about him.

Today you had a meeting to decide some last details about the concert in Pittsburgh, you were sitting waiting for the band members in a random restaurant in the city, you shuffled your feet in pure anxiety as you scrolled through the list in front of you, you had a lot of ideas but it was hard to sort them. Without looking up from the notebook in front of you, you feel the presence of someone sitting in front of you, you didn't have to make any effort to know it was him, you recognized every detail of him.

"You're early." You say, still looking at your notebook.

"Couldn't wait to see you." He responds with a smirk, leaning back in his chair and running his hand through his hair. "You know, Y/N, you look even more beautiful when you're stressed."

You sigh, rolling your eyes at the comment. "You came early just for that? Because if it is, you can come back later, I have a lot to work here and I need to focus"

"Oh don't worry Hermosa, I'm here to help you out." He says adjusting his vest, resting his back on the chair. "Come on bring it in, I'm listening".

You explain your ideas for doing an exclusive show in their hometown, you read topic by topic of your list in detail talking about each one. When you're done, your eyes go to the drummer again, waiting for his opinions.

"I'll be honest I didn't pay attention to anything you said, your lips got me distracted." You can't help but laugh, rolling your eyes.

"See? You're not the best at staying focused on things Warren." You say, laughing a little.

"What are you talking about?" He says pretending to be offended. "I'm always focused… on you." He finishes his sentence by winking at you

"I'm serious Rojas, I have work to do and…" You watch him intently, your eyes focus on his bare torso with the chains around his neck and that vest that made him so handsome.

"Like what you see?" He says with a smirk you hated the way he had power over you.

"Can you please put a shirt on? It's distracting me," you blurt out, finally looking up from your notebook to see the drummer sitting across from you with his signature vest and bare chest. You try to keep your composure, but the sight of his toned body makes your heart race.

Warren chuckles and leans in closer, "Distracting you? Or turning you on?" he teases, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"I'm not turned on by you Warren." You try to pretend to be convicted about it, but he only laughs at your words.

"That's not what you said that night, honey," he whispers teasingly.

Your heart races as you try to maintain your composure. "I was drunk," you mutter, knowing it's a weak excuse.

"Sure you were," he chuckles, his hand sliding up your thigh under the table. "But I bet you weren't drunk when you begged for more."

Your breath fails when you feel the drummer's hand go up your thigh, you close your eyes tightly trying to focus on what you had to do. Warren gets up from where he was, you frown not understanding where he would go, he just sits down next to you.

"Let's try one more time princesa." He says moving closer to you, you could feel his breath getting closer. "From topic one, explain to me."

You notice your uneven breathing, Rojas seemed to have you in the palm of his hand, he knew how to mess with you in every possible way. His hands come back to rest on your thigh, caressing it and slowly going up under your skirt. You hold back your urge to moan against his touch, he smiled to see you slowly surrendering to him.

You clear your throat, trying to focus on the task at hand. "Okay, topic one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "We need to finalize the setlist for the Pittsburgh concert."

Warren nods, still teasingly caressing your thigh. "And what do you suggest for the setlist, mi amor?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

You take a deep breath, trying to ignore the sensations he's causing in your body. "I was thinking we could start with 'You were gone' and then move on to 'Honeycomb,'" you say, trying to concentrate on the matter at hand.

Warren hums, his fingers trailing higher up your thigh. "Mm, that's a good idea," he says, his breath tickling your ear. "But I think we should add 'Kill you to try' in there somewhere."

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a moan as his fingers brush against your panties. "Yeah, that's a good suggestion," you say, your voice shaking slightly.

Warren leans in closer, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "You know, I think maybe we can add 'Regret me' after this one?," he whispers, his fingers slipping beneath your panties.

You gasp, your body responding to his touch. "Warren, please," you say weakly, but your body betrays you as you arch your back against his touch.

He chuckles, his fingers continuing their teasing exploration. "Please what?" he asks, his hand inching closer to your core. "Please stop? Please keep going?"

You bite your lip, trying to hold back a moan as his fingers tease you. "Please...focus," you manage to say, trying to keep your mind on the meeting.

"You know it's easy to solve this, right?" He whispers, stopping moving his fingers, you bite your lip in frustration. "You only need to ask me."

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your cool. "I made a rule not to mix work with pleasure, Warren. And I intend to keep that rule."

He leans in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Who said anything about pleasure? Maybe I just want to work on my thigh drumming technique," he whispers, making you shiver.

"I never heard of any technique like that." You say, looking deep into his eyes.

"I can teach you all of them if you want."

As Warren leans in closer, his lips almost touching yours, you hear a voice coming from behind him.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late," you hear Eddie's voice from behind you.

Warren quickly withdraws his hand from under your skirt and sits back in his chair, a sly smile still playing on his lips.

"No worries man, we were just about to get started," he says, looking over at you and winking.

You feel flustered and embarrassed, knowing that maybe Eddie had caught you in a compromising position with Warren. You quickly gather your notes and try to compose yourself, feeling both relieved and disappointed that the drummer had stopped. The rest of the meeting proceeds, some moments after Eddie arrives the rest of the band don't take long to arrive, without any further interruptions you keep explaining your plans for the show. But you find it difficult to concentrate with Warren's words still ringing in your ears.

As you gather your things to leave, Warren sidles up to you and whispers,

"Don't forget our private drumming lesson," before sauntering out of the restaurant, leaving you feeling both exhilarated and frustrated at the same time.

…

Today was the day of the concert in Pittsburgh, you and Warren had met every night until today, always promising that it wouldn't happen again, that you wouldn't see each other again, but it was impossible you needed each other, you craved for each other.

You decided to give the band space to enjoy your hometown, you were invited to participate in the event at the Dunne house and only after much insistence from Graham did you agree to go, they seemed very happy to be there again, it was very beautiful to see them go back there with so many achievements.

You watched them all leaning in a corner, not wanting to draw any attention since no one there was close to you and you wanted them to enjoy it, you had a genuine smile on your face until you saw Warren talking to a group of women, you try to count the jealousy that was rising in your chest but you knew how irresistible that guy was and you knew very well what he was capable of.

As Warren was talking to the group of women, you felt a pang of jealousy shoot through you. You knew it was irrational - you and Warren weren't together, and he was free to do whatever he wanted. But seeing him flirt and charm the women made your blood boil with envy. You couldn't help but think about all the times you had been with him, how he made you feel, and how much you craved him.

"How long are you going to go on pretending you don't like him?" Daisy asks as if it's nothing taking a stand by your side.

"Like who?" You make yourself ignorant.

"You're almost killing anyone who comes near Warren" Daisy laughs, and you shake your head. "Look, he really likes you too...just saying!"

Daisy shrugs and walks away from you, leaving you with yet another whirlwind of questions about how to act on your feelings. But you don't do anything, the show would be that night and soon that feeling would pass, you would know how to deal with it since by then you had already managed.

You'd listen to them play 'The River' while dancing to the beat of the song, no matter how many times you listened to it you never got tired of how good it was, your eyes don't leave the beauty of the drummer, Warren managed to be extremely sexy in everything he did and you couldn't help but think that this must be a crime somewhere in the world. He seemed to live every second of the music, he represented the passion for rock in all his performances and it made you crazier and crazier for him.

The stage lights illuminated him in an angelic way, his body was sweaty from the exertion and adrenaline of the show, his curls falling over his face, and as usual every time he did the 'Regret Me' entrance he would look at you and wink, wanting to leave a message on the air, a desire to tell you that he wanted to be with you.

You could no longer contain the desire building in your body, as soon as the show was over you went to the drummer's dressing room, waiting restlessly for him. You were pacing back and forth, moving your hands anxiously for Rojas to arrive, and when you hear his laugh by the door and you see the doorknob turn you don't think twice… You pull Warren by his vest into the dressing room, kissing him passionately.

It takes him a while to understand what's going on, but then he kisses you in the same desire, you turn to the door still kissing the drummer and locking it with one hand. You remove his vest still kissing him, he pulls away gasping for air.

"Hey mama, god, what was that for?" He asks with a smile on his face.

"You were right Warren…" You start to say taking off your shirt, he watches your every move carefully, feeling a chill run down his spine. "I'm fucking crazy for you."

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear this." He cups your face between his hands, kissing you but softly this time. "We always swear this will be the last time, then we'll do it all again! Promise me this isn't one of those times? Tell me I'll finally be able to call you mine…"

"I promise you..." You say, kissing him again. "Make me yours Rojas"

Warren smiles and without wasting time kisses you passionately. As you continue to kiss, your hands roam over each other's bodies, exploring every inch. Warren's fingers glide over your skin, tracing the curves of your body, and you shiver in response. You can feel his desire growing with every passing moment, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

"Hey Warren! We're leaving for the party." Graham says from behind the door, making you stop what you were doing. "We're just waiting for you, by the way, have you seen Y/N? Daisy said this time she's going with us… but I doubt it, she doesn't like to mix things up apparently."

Warren laughs arching his eyebrows at you, you smack his bare chest in a way to tell him to stop.

"I don't know where she is, Graham." Rojas says, getting off you shrugging. "But if you find her, tell her I'm looking forward to our private drum lesson, she'll understand."

"Alright." The younger Dunne says, moving away from the door.

As you pull your shirt over your head, Warren comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist.

"I don't want to let you go," he whispers in your ear, upset about leaving this moment already.

You turn around to face him and run your fingers through his hair. "I know, but we have to go to the party."

"Can't we skip the party and just stay here?" he asks, his eyes pleading with you.

You laugh and shake your head. "As much as I'd like that, we can't. But how about we make a deal? We go to the party, and afterward, we come back here and have our own private after-party."

Warren's face lights up at your suggestion, and he leans in to kiss you again. "Deal," he murmurs against your lips.

As you both leave the room, hand in hand, you can't help but feel a sense of excitement for what's to come later. The party may be fun, but nothing compares to being alone with Warren.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

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[williamschenk-banks]

Chainshipping Prompt #2:

Adam’s ghost full on haunts the shit out of John until John agrees to leave Lawrence alone.

But wait, there’s more.

Adam was never dead, he just made a deal with Hoffman to smuggle him out of the bathroom to fuck with John. Dead guy in the bathroom is actually some no name asshole who got Hoffman’s coffee order wrong. (He’ not being petty, honest). He and Hoffman work together to con John.

Pro for Hoffman, Larry is out of the picture now, and he doesn’t have to worry about competition for John’s legacy. Con: he has to fucking work with Adam. Why is this guy so insufferable. (If he starts to be reminded of Angelina because of Adam’s terrible taste in music that’s no one’s business but his own. Also he’s kinda lowkey pissed that Amanda tried to kill this guy. Like WTF Mandy, Adam was never going to be John’s favorite anyway).

Adam meanwhile see’s no con’s only pro’s.

He get’s to mess with Hoffman (man is unintentionally the funniest fucker alive - I mean, who thinks that the best way to flirt with the guy is to try to drown him? Not fucking Adam, that’s for sure), He get’s to fuck with Kramer (Thank you John Rogers for giving him Leverage - AKA his conning bible, even if Hoffman think’s it’s stupid as hell), and he get’s to get Larry away from that guy. If he’s stuck in a roommate comedy with Hoffman until he can actually tell his doctor he’s alive, again, Adam see’s no cons in that.

Lawrence is sure in for a shock when he wakes up in an unfamiliar apartment to Adam and Hoffman in a screaming match while FBI agent Mr. supposed-to-be-dead!Peter Strahm is listening to them with his head in his hands, every so often shaking his head. “Why did I have to fall in love with the fucked up idiot? Why did I do that to myself?” —> Or Hoffman really thought the best way to clue Lawrence into Adam’s very alive state was to drug him and bring him back to his apartment.