✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "Why? Why do you love me?"🐟✨

✨🐟Find the rest of the Tuna-Tober prompts here, and remember to follow to see what other prompt fics these writers might drop this October!🐟 ✨

Day 2 - "Why? Why do you love me?"

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader Word Count: 481 Content: Angst. . . whoops, hurt/comfort? I think?? Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: I had such a hard time debating which prompt to choose for this day because I liked all three options. I wanted to make this prompt happy and fluffy. . . I don't know what possessed me to make it angsty though. I also wrote this in 20 minutes so I apologize if it's not perfect.

The question lingers in the air, you turn around and see Gojo looking directly at you. His sunglasses are partially falling down his nose so you can see all of him, just as he can see all of you.

“Why? Why do you love me?”

He’s never asked a question like this so directly before, he always dances around questions like this. It’s caught you off guard, your mouth hanging agape at his bluntness. Why would he ask-?

He takes your silence as the answer as he drops your hand he was holding. Wait-

“Nevermind,” He adjusts his glasses so they cover his eyes and his stance becomes careless. You open your mouth, willing any sound to come out but nothing will. You feel your throat start to close up from anxiety and you can’t even breathe. Why would he-?

“I heard that there was a new cafe opening up nearby Jujutsu High, hopefully they’ll have better sweets than the one cafe I’ve been going to. It’s been such a pain to warp back and forth from the school to Shinjuku~” He puts his hands behind his head and starts walking forward, acting like he didn’t just ask-

“Because I just do!” You yell at him. He stops moving and turns to you, “What?”

“I love you because you’re so annoying it hurts. I love you because you push me out of my comfort zone and you get me to experience things I would have never tried before. I love you because if I didn’t then my world would come crashing down. I love you because there’s no one else I would rather love.” You step closer and closer to him, trying to get him to understand.

You reach up and gently put your hands on his face, cradling it. You bring his face down to meet yours, just inches apart from each other. You let go and remove his sunglasses, placing them on top of his head.

“Love takes work, and I’m willing to put that work in for you. I love you just because I do.” You caress his face and he leans into your touch hesitantly.

“I don’t want to lose you,” His voice cracks, “You won’t.” You reply quickly. A sad smile appears on his face.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep sweetheart.”

“Just because I’m not the strongest, doesn’t mean I won’t fight like hell to be with you,” You smile at him, “Try to have a little faith in me.”

He tilts his head to meet yours, your foreheads touching each other. You close your eyes and just feel. He wraps his arms around you and holds onto possessively, unwilling to let you go, as if he can wrap his infinity around you to keep you safe.

But he can’t, not forever at least. But for now holding onto each other will have to do.

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Breast Worship🐟✨

✨🐟Find the rest of the Tuna-Tober prompts here, and remember to follow to see what other prompt fics these writers might drop this October!🐟 ✨

Day 11 - Breast Worship (18+)

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x F!Reader Word Count: 2.1k (whoops) Content: Smut with a little bit of plot beforehand because why not? 18+ MDNI, Gojo calls Reader sweetheart a lot I’m sorry (I never really took Gojo for a pet name kind of guy but him saying sweetheart does something for me I dunno) Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: This is now my second time writing smut and it’s still probably cringe but it’s okay!!! We learn!! And grow!!! . . . hopefully. This was also meant to be less than 1k but here we are at 2k words. . . this is why it’s a day late. I wanted to make sure everything made sense and worked well!

What you said to him last night hasn’t left his brain all day. He crosses his arms and looks over towards you. You’re teaching the first years some defensive techniques out in the training grounds. Helping the kids out and smiling through it all as if what happened last night doesn’t bother you. It should. . . 

He needs to fix his mistake. . . now. He walks himself to the fields and doesn’t acknowledge his students.

“Satoru?”

“Gojo-sensei! What are you-?” Before Yuji could finish, you disappear with Gojo from their vision.

“What. . . just happened?” Yuji turns to Megumi who shakes his head disapprovingly.

“Hell if I know.”

In a blink of your eye you went from teaching your students outside to being back in your apartment room with Gojo holding onto your arm with no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

“Satoru, what-?”

“Did you mean what you said last night?”

“Oh.” You crack a smile, “Is that what you’re worried about? It’s alright.” You try to take his hand off your arm, but he doesn’t budge.

“Satoru, we’re both busy. I’m not actually expecting you to take your time with me. It’s been like this for so long, I’m used to it at this point.” His mouth hangs agape at your admission.

“You’re used to me rushing into sex?”

You give him a questioning look, “. . .yes?”

He moves his hands to lift your head up so your eyes can meet his, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, like I said we’re both busy-”

“We aren’t right now.”

You look away from him, sighing, “That’s because you forced me out of teaching the first year's combat.”

“Let me make it up to you. Let me worship you the way you deserve.”

You pause and really look at him this time. He’s looking at you with so much devotion that your lips part and whisper, “Okay.”

In an instant he pulls your face towards his and he kisses you with a passion you’d never felt from him before. It’s slow at first really getting a feel for each other, like you’d never really see each other again. His hands move from your face down to your body as he takes his time feeling each part of you. You step closer towards him, arms wrapping around his shoulders and your hands effortlessly taking off his bandana.

Once it’s off he pulls away from you, holding you by your waist, a smirk gracing his lips. Before you can make a remark he leans down and quickly grabs the back of your thighs, lifting you up.

You wrap your legs around his torso as his arms keep you steady. Your hands cup his face as you smile down at him, but before you can kiss him again he starts kissing your neck. You tilt your head to the side to give him better access and you can feel him smile against your throat. With careful steps he’s able to walk you both to your bedroom and he guides you down to your bed.

Satoru slowly works his way down, hands carefully removing your teaching uniform. You try to sit up to help him take off his clothes but he gently pushes you back onto the bed once he has your shirt off, “I’ve got this sweetheart~ Just relax.”

You breathe out a laugh, but it quickly turns into a soft moan as Satoru takes one of your boobs in his hand. He sighs contentedly, bringing his other hand up to join and soon just burying his face in between them. 

“I could live here forever,” He mutters between kissing them.

“You do sleep on my chest a lot Toru,” You breath out, your hands playing with his hair.

He hums in response as he kisses one of your nipples, his tongue slowly swirling around it. You back arches towards his body as he just smiles and looks up at you.

“I didn’t realize you were so sensitive here,”

He switches to the other, making sure to give both sides the proper attention. When he is kissing and sucking on one side, his hand is massaging the other, his finger gently circling around your nipple. Your moans become a little louder and you start squirming from his touch, trying to relieve the tension working through your body.

Your hips buck up to meet his and you can already feel how painfully hard he is, you both moan at the contact, your head rolling to the side. He continues to kiss down your body, making sure not to miss a single area. You can’t help but whine when he eventually stops kissing your boobs, but he does keep a hand up there to keep playing with your nipples, tweaking them ever so gently to hear you moan his name again.

Satoru kneels at the end of the bed, pulling you towards him so that he can take off your skirt and underwear in one motion. Once you’re fully bare to him, he puts his hands on your thighs, placing them on his shoulders as he slowly brings his face up towards your pussy.

He gets close enough that you can feel his breath on you. You try to push yourself onto him, but he backs away, a teasing smile on his face. 

“I thought someone wanted me to take my time with this,” He kisses the inside of your thigh and he can feel your legs tense with anticipation. “I mean you're already so wet for me, and I haven’t even given you proper attention.” His fingers quickly press onto your clit and before you can rock your hips into his hand, he pulls away.

“Please. . .” you whine and he just laughs, “Please. . . what?” A mischievous glint appears in his eyes as he waits for you to finish your sentence.

You prop yourself up from your elbows, “Please just eat me-!” Your head leans back as you moan, unable to finish your sentence because Satoru buries his face into your cunt, truly a starved man.

You’re able to hear the lewd sounds of Satoru eating you out, hearing him moan against your pussy, licking up every part of you that he can. One of his hands reaches up your body, grabbing onto your boobs, continuing what he was doing earlier only this time he’s pinching your nipples a little bit harder, borderline groping your boobs. 

With every twist he did, you can feel your body tense further, slowly reaching your breaking point. You grab the back of his head and push him closer to yourself, wanting to chase the high.

You can feel him smile as he continues to eat you out, his hand remaining on your breast, gently twisting. His tongue works faster as he continues to work it inside your walls, his nose brushing against your clit every now and again. You grip onto his hair tighter, pushing his mouth towards your clit and he finally relents, giving you what you want.

His mouth wraps around your clit and he starts using his tongue to stimulate it. You instantly wrap your legs around his head, crying out his name. You feel yourself crest over the edge and you start cumming against his mouth. He doesn’t let up, constantly licking up everything your body is giving him. He only stops once you start pushing yourself away from him instinctively from being overstimulated.

Your body lays flat on the bed, a hand reaching down towards him for him to join you. When he stands up, your mouth opens slightly, staring at awe of him fucking himself in his hand. He looks down at your blissed out gaze, “Like what you see?”

You nod your head at him and you try to stand, but your legs keep shaking. He stops what he’s doing to hold onto your shoulders to help you stand, “Sweetheart, what-?”

“I want to help you,” You kneel down in front of him and his breath hitches. He shakes his head, “You don’t have to-” 

You hold up your boobs in front of him as best you can, “I want to,” you peer up at him through your eyelashes, blinking towards him, “Please.” 

His hand goes back to his cock, moving it up and down with ease, like he’s done countless times before, only this time you’re right in front of him watching, taking mental notes of what he likes.

“I’ve always wanted this y’know,” He lines his cock up in between your boobs as you push them together. He groans as you set a slow pace up and down his cock, looking up at him with a small smile on your lips.

“It’s all I’ve thought about these past few days, just fucking your tits. They’re just so-” You start moving faster, dribbling spit onto his cock to make it slide better, “So fucking perfect.”

He grabs onto them and starts fucking your boobs at a relentless pace, his hands squeezing them and twisting your nipples again causing you to moan out.

“So fucking pretty on your knees for me. I wish I could do this to you every time. Shit-”

He throws his head back, moaning with you as you can start to feel the familiar build up growing in your cunt. Without a second thought you start toying with your clit, helping to bring yourself to cum with him. 

In a few more thrusts his brows pinch together as he looks down at you, and when he sees you touching yourself he starts cumming. He stops holding your boobs and holds onto his cock, painting white ropes all over your chest. You can feel the tension building up, but you just needed some help to get over the edge.

You moan out his name and Satoru immediately understands what you need, “Come on sweetheart, come for me,” He crashes his lips onto your and you feel yourself topple over the edge and start cumming for a second time. You moan into the kiss, your hands wrapping around his shoulders. He lifts you up with ease and brings you both over to your bed, gently placing you down.

Once you’re sitting on the bed, he goes over to the bedside drawer and pulls out a clean washcloth. He wipes it across your chest, removing the sticky cum and cleaning you up. He wipes himself down too, before he joins you in the bed.

“Need anything else?” He asks, slipping on his boxers,

You hold your hand out to him, “No, just you.” You say softly. He smiles and joins you in bed, holding you close as you both come down from your high.

You both just lay there for a moment, holding onto each other. He gives you small kisses on your back and you hold onto his arms tighter.

“Can I tell you something?” Satoru hums at you, waiting for you to tell him. You cover your face in embarrassment.

“Don’t laugh.”

He tightens his hold around you, “Fine.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard before,”

 He lets go of you and gives you an incredulous look, “Seriously?!”

You turn to face him, “It’s not like you couldn’t make me cum before but-” 

“Never that hard?!”

“Toru just-” You bring your hands up to his face.

“Holy fuck I’m bad at sex if that’s the first time -”

“It’s not! I just- I don’t know, felt more appreciated. Felt more loved that time, like you had all the time in the world to give to me.”

He finally stills, and reaches up to hold your hand, “I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner. I wanted to but those fucking Elders-”

“I know, always giving us last minute missions.” You drop your hands from his face and turn back around facing away from him.

“I’m glad they didn’t disturb us right now,” He wraps his arms around you again, pulling you close to him, “Because we can always go for another round, if you’re up for it~”

You can feel his cock start to get hard behind you and you grind up against him.

“I mean. . . I wouldn’t be opposed.” You breathe out.

Satoru grins as he starts kissing your neck again. The less you knew about one of the Elders overhearing you two in your room the better; besides now this really meant he could take all of his time with you.

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "I'd be lost without you."🐟✨

✨🐟Find the rest of the Tuna-Tober prompts here, and remember to follow to see what other prompt fics these writers might drop this October!🐟 ✨

Late Night Chats

Tuna-Tober Prompt: I’d be lost without you

Summary: Matt has an honest conversation with Foggy about their friendship.

Word Count: 414 (I intended for this to be longer but your girl is TIRED.)

A/n: Heartwarming fluff. Thought it might be a nice change from my usual writings.

Thank you so much for reading! Gentle reminder that reblogs are the best way to support writers on this platform. Feedback welcome! XOXO

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“Are you two burning the midnight oil tonight?” Karen asked as she came back into the office. 

“Yeah we are staying late to get a start on all this paperwork.” Foggy answered from his desk. 

“Alright. I will stay and look through these interviews to see what I can find. Oh and here- I stopped at the cleaners while I was out. Your suits were ready so I just grabbed them for you.” 

“Thank you so much Karen.” Foggy said as she walked into his office, hanging his suit on the back of the door. 

“Yes, thank you, Karen.” Matt replied. “Also, you have done a significant amount of leg work for us these past few months. Why don’t you take the night off. Maybe go out and have some fun.”

”Hmm. What is this ‘going out’ and ‘fun’ that you mention?” She chided in response.

I know it’s been a while right? But please, go. You often beat us here in the mornings  and typically stay as late as we do. At least go home and relax.” 

“You know, that does sound nice.” She replied, thinking of being wrapped up in her cozy pajamas with a glass of wine finally getting to be able to binge Agatha All Along. “You don’t need to tell me again. I will head out now. Have a good night, guys! Call me if you need anything.” 

Matt and Foggy settled into their work. It was a quiet night in Hell’s Kitchen and even Foggy could hear the hum of electricity as they silently worked. The clacking of his keyboard and the glide of Matt’s fingers across the paper filled the comfortable silence.

 After several minutes Matt softly spoke. “Hey Foggy?” 

“Yeah man, what’s up? Did you find something juicy?”

”No, actually I just wanted to tell you something. I know I’m not the most, well, reliable partner out there. I’m often late. You cover for me a lot, often with no notice. You take on more than what a balanced partnership should.You check in on me, even if I don’t necessarily deserve it. You’re always there for me, both professionally and personally. I think what I am trying to say here is that I would be lost without you.”

”I love you too, buddy. C’mere give me a hug.” Foggy gushed as he pulled Matt into a warm embrace. The two hugged for several moments, each squeezing each other tightly before getting back to work. 

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: SOMNOPHILIA 🐟✨

✨🐟Find the rest of the Tuna-Tober prompts here, and remember to follow to see what other prompt fics these writers might drop this October!🐟 ✨

"Poor thing." (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic) 🔥

So as promised, I'm taking part in the October Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! For Day One I had three prompts to choose from, and I wound up going for the kink prompt of somnophilia cause, well, I'd hinted at it in TRT as being something Matt liked, but never actually sat down and wrote anything out for it. You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me, but for now, please enjoy Day One! This is not specifically written as any fem!Reader in particular, although any readers of TRT can choose to see this as TRT's reader!

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Chapter Summary:

You’d had a long week. He remembered you telling him that the night before. You wouldn’t mind if he woke you up—you never did—but odds were good you needed your rest far more than you needed him dragging you up out of the haze of sleep for a sloppy, indulgent midnight fuck. But then… he didn’t have to wake you up, did he? 

Wordcount: 3.3k words

Warnings for this chapter, let's do this: consensual somnophilia (they talked about this being fine, don't worry), oral f-receiving, grinding, PiV sex, some dirty talk. 18 and up only please!

Oh and we're black suiting this cause fuck yeah.

Your arousal hit him the second he opened the rooftop door. 

The scent of it stopped him dead in his tracks, threads of heat winding through him as he drew in a long, slow inhale, savoring it. Another inhale, and he let out a low rumble of pleasure, his mouth already watering, cock stirring. 

Well, that was one way to be welcomed home.

Not that he was complaining. His night had gone well enough—the fights visceral and satisfying, with multiple people he’d ensured would make it home safely. But your skin against his, fucking his way lazily inside you while you moaned loudly into his ear, dragging your nails down his back, would only make a good night better. However, as he eagerly stepped through the door and closed it behind him, it quickly became clear that your body’s call to him wasn’t exactly intentional. 

He directed his senses down the stairs and into the bedroom, hunting through sensory information, through the fire of the world until he found you in bed. You were laying on your side and tucked under the blankets, one of your arms thrown over his pillow to hold it up against your chest. And despite the tempting scent of you in the air, you weren’t moving. Not really, anyway. At most, every now and then your fingers would twitch or curl, your heartbeat uneven and a little restless. 

Asleep. 

You were dreaming, then.

Maybe even dreaming of him. 

He slowly dragged his tongue over his lips, considering his options.

You’d had a long week. He remembered you telling him that the night before. You wouldn’t mind if he woke you up—you never did—but odds were good you needed your rest far more than you needed him dragging you up out of the haze of sleep for a sloppy, indulgent midnight fuck.

But then… he didn’t have to wake you up, did he? 

Just like that, he settled on a course of action.

He crept silently down the stairs, stripping out of his gloves and black mask as he went, tossing them aside without care for where they fell. The bottom step was carefully avoided, thanks to its tendency to creak and alert you to his presence. He stopped only long enough to kneel and quietly unlace his boots, tugging them and his socks off so that he could slip barefoot into the bedroom, weaving through the shadows, navigating around any floorboards that might give him away. He did it all without a sound, his senses so focused now he could hear the faint whisper of the dust motes in the air stirred by his passage, hear the tiniest shift of your skin against the sheets as you breathed, hear the blood flowing hot beneath your skin where you’d grown flushed and aroused. 

The scent of your arousal was even stronger here in the bedroom, more than enough to thicken the heat inside him, an instinctive little purr halted in his throat before it could stir the air with sound. His body knew just as well as he did what that scent meant, what always followed, and his nostrils flared as he got closer to you, taking in how your pheromones had mixed with his in bed. It stirred some possessive, lazy satisfaction in him to take in the way you’d curled up with his pillow, chasing his scent, and you were even wearing—

Oh. 

You were wearing his shirt. 

It was like you were begging for this, for him, for what he had planned. 

He crept up onto the bed on his hands and knees, each shift of the mattress followed by a pause, a confirmation from your heartbeat and breathing that you were still asleep. He had to be careful if he didn’t want to wake you. It wasn’t that you’d be angry, of course—you’d both agreed that this sort of thing was alright, though he’d had a far easier time making use of that agreement than you had thanks to his senses. No, this was about ensuring you still had a chance to rest. 

Though, if he were honest, the challenge of this was a thrill all its own. It was a delicate balancing act to give you the sensations you needed, allow himself access to your body, all without waking you. It was as if he were hunting you, gradually gaining ground from the shadows until at last he could take hold of his prize. Fortunately, this prize was one that would leave you both satisfied. 

The moment he found himself over your hips, he shifted to catch the blankets and slowly, ever so slowly began to edge them down. 

Gentle. 

Inch by inch, he bared your body to the air. You didn’t so much as stir, well and truly asleep, and presumably still caught up in your dream. Even so, he held his breath, listening closely to the beating of your heart and your shallow breathing. But he’d been careful enough, and besides, you were used to him climbing into bed in the middle of the night, shifting the blankets around as he crawled under them to join you. 

The scent of you that rose up as the blanket slid down was so much richer now that it wasn’t stifled and trapped by thick fabric. It made him shiver, his cock already so hard he could feel a damp spot growing on the silk of his boxers. He needed more of that scent, and to taste it, too, but the angle was all wrong with you on your side. So he gently traced one fingertip up the side of your thigh, applying the barest hint of pressure. You were normally fairly responsive to him even in sleep. 

“Roll over for me, sweetheart,” he whispered, leaning down to brush his lips, light as a feather, against your hip. “You smell so good. I need a taste.”

He wasn’t sure if it was his touch or his voice that made it past whatever dream you were lost in, but either way, some part of you heard him. You breathed out a soft sigh, twitching a little until he helped you roll slowly onto your back beneath him. You made a soft sound that might have been his name, and he couldn’t resist letting out a reassuring little croon as he pressed your slack thighs outwards, gradually parting your legs. There wasn’t so much as a hint of resistance as your legs fell open, baring the wet heat of your pussy to him. 

God, your scent. 

He quickly backed up a few inches before dropping to his hands and his knees, lowering his head just over your hips to quietly inhale the scent of your cunt. The rich, musky tang of your arousal—all pheromones and slick warmth—left him half mad, his eyes rolling back. His hips instinctively snapped forward against nothing but air, his body curving as if he were already fucking his way into you. 

It only got worse, got better when he let his head fall further, hungry for just a taste. He slipped his tongue out until he could use the tip for the barest little lick at the line of your slit where your arousal had gathered, your body twitching as he did. Even that small taste hit him like a drug, and he swallowed down a ragged moan, his chest hitching as he kept the sound from reaching the air. He’d told himself he’d just have a taste, just one, but one quickly became two became three, hungry, quickening laps at your slit until he finally whined softly in want and dropped the rest of his body down, burying his face desperately against your cunt. 

Your hips twitched, rocking against him just slightly, and you let out the softest little whimper as he grunted and slurped quietly at your slit, wetness smearing across his chin and mouth. Only once he’d thoroughly tasted what you’d made for him did he slide up to your clit, tongue extended to lap at it with little kitten licks, ones designed to encourage your body to give him more of your slick wetness, your body jerking with every pass. He tried to remind himself to be gentle, to take things soft and slow so you didn’t wake, but that was so hard when you whimpered again, whimpered as he pursed his lips to suck lightly at your clit, drawing it into his mouth to work with his tongue. Your fingers curled and released against the sheets, and you tasted so good that he found himself fucking against the mattress, humping mindlessly at the folds in the blankets like an animal.  

“M… Matt.”

His eyes fluttered lazily open, his gaze drifting up around the sensory shape of you. You were all flowing air currents and sounds and scents, twisting tongues of flame fed by the growing heat of both your bodies. Your heartbeat was still too slow to signal you’d woken up, but your breathing had picked up, your eyes fluttering more rapidly behind your eyelids. 

If you hadn’t been dreaming of him before, you were now. And if you were still dreaming, he was safe. 

He rumbled a low noise of satisfaction, using his fingers to part your folds before dipping down to your entrance. Once there, he began to lick firmly at you, pressing deeper and deeper until at last your body opened to him and he slipped inside. You let out a sleep little mewl, one of your legs shifting restlessly in your sleep, your head rolling on your pillow as he moaned quietly, curling his tongue inside you to drag against the silken heat of your clenching walls, his nose grinding gently against your clit. 

Did you know, somewhere deep down, what he was doing? That he’d spread you open like this and worked his tongue inside you? Or did all your dream self know was that you suddenly felt so, so good?

The very idea that you might not know, that you’d left yourself so vulnerable to him, had him dangerously close to coming, his motions growing just a hint more frantic. Wetness smeared across his face as he kissed sloppily at your slit, kissed at it like he might your mouth, snaking his tongue out to slide inside you with every pass of his lips. 

He listened carefully to the quickening pace of your heart, your breathing, taking in the faint sheen of sweat forming on your skin. Every time your heartrate rose too high, he’d slow just a little, or shift his mouth over to your folds or the inside of your thighs. It was there he left you a mark or two, sucking gently at thin, delicate skin. Even if he managed to do this without waking you, you’d know tomorrow what he’d done when you saw the little love bites and bruises between your thighs. The very idea made him purr warmly against you, and he quickly worked his hand down beneath himself until he could undo his pants, pushing the fabric down until he could pull his hard cock free. He took a moment to grind slowly, deliciously against the sheets, presing his mouth to the skin of your thigh to muffle his hitched moan. And that reminded him of what he’d planned on from the start, before he’d become distracted by the taste of you.

He was close, and he needed you. Fortunately, based on the way your body had begun to tighten in increasing waves, you were close, too. 

He let his head roll to the side to rest against your thigh as he panted, still grinding himself against the sheets. “Do you want my cock, sweetheart?” he whispered, his lips curling up into a delicious little smirk when your body clenched at the sound of his voice. “I think you do. Even when you’re asleep, you need me inside you, don’t you?” 

There was no verbal response, but the growing heat of your skin was enough for him. He rocked himself up as gently as he could, stopping just long enough to strip the rest of his clothes off before climbing slowly up your body. As he went, he caught the hem of your shirt, slowly dragging it up your body with him. He couldn’t take it off you—even he wouldn’t be able to mange something like that—but he had no desire to. The idea of fucking you while you were sleep, while you were wearing his shirt, was a fantasy he’d used more than once while taking himself in hand. He did, however, tug your shirt up just enough to bare your breasts to him. 

Obscene, something inside him whispered in delight, a wave of throbbing heat flooding through him. Here you were asleep, shirt pushed up over your breasts, your naked cunt practically dripping onto the sheets. He balanced his weight on one arm as he hovered over you, indulging himself as he palmed gently at one of your breasts, dragging his thumb slowly against your nipple. That won him another soft moan in your sleep, your cunt clenching, body tightening around nothing. Your next moan was even louder when he dropped his head to drag his tongue hotly against your other nipple, drawing it into his mouth to catch it gently between his teeth, sucking lazily until you let out an even louder moan, one of your hands curling as if to claw at the sheets before relaxing. “Poor thing,” he crooned quietly, reluctantly leaving your breasts to climb the rest of the way up your body. “Listen to you, so needy.”

And it would only be right to help with that, wouldn’t it? 

Once his hips were level with yours, he settled in, rocking and grinding his cock gently against your slit, slicking himself up with your warmth and the saliva he’d left behind. The sudden sensation of your burning heat against the underside of his cock made his mouth fall slack, and he started to pant at the little shocks of pleasure that washed over him every time he caught the head of his cock against your clit. You weren’t much better even asleep, whining as your hips jerked, eyes rolling frantically beneath your lids. It took everything in him to keep his motions gentle and slow, no matter how much his body demanded he grind and rut, fuck his way desperately inside you even if it woke you. No. No, not when he was so close, his cock now slick and ready for you. He let out a shaky breath, burying his face against your warm throat, huffing in the scent of you as he shifted the angle and began to slide inside you, centimeter by warm, delicious centimeter. 

“Fuck,” he whispered shakily, one of his hands fisting desperately in the sheets beside your head. “Fuck, sweetheart. You feel so good.”  

God, you were tight, so close to coming that you were already clenching tight around him. That tightness forced him to move gradually, his progress slowed to a sinfully dangerous crawl, one that allowed him to feel every last twitch and shift of your body around his cock. It seemed designed to make him lose his mind when he was already this worked up. In a blink, he’d caught the fabric of your shirt in his teeth, stifling his hoarse, shaky moan, your shallow, hitched breathing a tantalizing whisper of sensation in his ear. It felt like it took hours,  ages before he’d finally hilted himself inside you, buried in your slick heat. 

He forced himself to still there for a long moment, his chest heaving as he scanned over you with his senses again. 

Stuttered breathing, each breath hiding a faint moan. 

The fluttering clip of your heart, just slow enough to indicate you hadn’t woken. 

Your fingers clenching and releasing, spread thighs shifting in minute, restless movements against the sheets. 

It wouldn’t take much more for him to come, he knew that much—the taste of you still lingered on his tongue, filled his nose, and the drag of your skin against his with every breath only left him burning. But he wasn’t a selfish lover, even when you weren’t awake to beg and plead with him for release. No, he’d make sure you got what you needed, too: his sweetheart, so tender and soft and welcoming to the Devil even in sleep. 

He slowly, gradually settled his weight onto one arm, sliding his free hand down between your bodies. Even that much shifting around had him swallowing down a groan, and he couldn’t resist grinding just a little inside you. It made you twitch and whimper, hushed and breathless in his ear as he pressed his cock against that spot inside you. Once he was sure that hadn’t been enough to wake you, he quickly dragged two fingers through your folds, raking gently to gather up your wetness before he brought them back up to your clit. The rhythm he started was slow and easy, a gentle grind and loop over your clit that matched the rolling waves of his hips as he began to gently fuck you, barely retreating at all before sliding smoothly back to fill you once more. 

It took him no time at all to work your body up that final hill, your breathing growing shorter, your heart rate climbing as you began to tighten around him. It helped that he knew what you needed—each retreat was slow and gentle, and he never left you more than halfway before rolling lazily back forward, ensuring your warm cunt stayed achingly full as he brought you just up to the edge. This time it was your mouth that moved, not a word but a soft whisper of skin as you parted your lips, your head tipping back. And he knew that motion, even as slack and lazy as it was in your sleep. 

He purred quietly at the unconscious request that he fill you there, too, lifting his head to seek out your mouth. One soft lick against your lips and you parted them for him on pure instinct, allowing him to slide his tongue filthily into your slack mouth, dragging his tongue against yours, granting you what you’d asked for. You let out a soft sigh, your throat working beneath him as you sucked at the taste of him, of yourself, of you both. 

All it took from there was one more finger grinding against your clit, a gentle buck of his hips as he moaned into your mouth, and you crested, your body tightening and releasing around him in rippling waves. Your head rolled back in your sleep, a soft gasp shuddering up your throat as you twitched and shook, eyes rolling back beneath your lids. You let out what might have been a moan of his name, hot and sweet, a sound that seared its way across his mind like a brand. That was more than enough for him, and he let himself go. He groaned softly against your lips, snapping his hips gently against you as he spilled himself near-silently inside you, filling your cunt with a spreading heat that you wouldn’t notice until morning. He kissed you through it as gently as he could, rubbing lightly, quickly at your clit to drag your orgasm out along with his, pleasure rolling through him in gentle waves. Even once you both began to come down, he wasn’t quite done, rumbling a low, possessive growl as he ground himself inside you further, ensuring he’d coated every last inch of your warm cunt, his, you were his, even in sleep. He toyed with that overstimulation just long enough for his toes to curl, for his spent, softening cock to twitch inside you, spilling a few more drops, giving you everything he had as you drifted back down into a deep sleep. 

Satisfied with what he’d given you. 

He got one arm down and around your hip, gently, carefully rolling the both of you until you were both on your sides, his cock still buried deep inside you. He rumbled a low noise to reassure your sleeping mind, burying his nose in your hair as you sleepily curled into him, one arm draping itself over his waist. 

“Love you,” he murmured. “My good girl.” “Mm.”

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Day 3 - Sleeping Beauty

Prompt: 1 - Somnophilia Character: Matt Murdock Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader Word Count: ~900 Warnings: Somnophilia, referenced oral sex (f and m receiving), hand-job, p in v sex, unprotected sex Tags: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist

Sleeping Beauty

It was early. Far too early to be awake on a day neither of you had anywhere to be. You really ought to go back to sleep. That would be the most sensible thing to do.

But you didn’t want to do the sensible thing.

Not with Matt sprawled across your bed, the early morning light painting his nude body in an ethereal glow. It was sight fit for a Cavaragio. One of his fallen angels. Or one of the martyrs. Something holy. Which was pretty ironic. Given that your thoughts were anything but holy.

No, your mind was on all the ways Matt could make you scream. There were so many. You were rather amazed that you hadn’t gotten a noise complaint. It wasn’t lack of effort. You certainly hadn’t been quiet earlier this week when he had his face buried in your cunt. Not that you ever were. Matt had a very talented mouth. And a lot of enthusiasm for eating you out.

Not that your man was a one-trick pony. Far from it. He was equally talented with his hands and his cock. With similar level of enthusiasm. You were pretty sure that if he could, Matt would spent the rest of his life between your thighs. With his biggest dilmenia being deciding between fucking you with his tongue or his cock.

If you were being perfectly honest, that didn’t sound terrible.

But that did remind you that it had been too long since you and Matt last had sex. Probably not by someone’s standards since it had only been three days. But that was three too many as far as you were concerned. You wanted him inside you.

It was stupid early but you doubted that he would complain about being woken up for sex. You considered your options. Simply shake his shoulder until he woke up? Or ride him until pleasure pulled him out of the depths of slumber?

The second option had a lot of appeal. It was straightforward. It would turn Matt into a blissful puddle. And he had been very intrigued by the idea when you had first shared the fantasy with him. Unfortunately, turning that fantasy into a reality had proved trickier than either of you had anticipated.

You had gotten close on the last time. Very close. Maybe this time you would succeed.

Settling between his legs, you took a deep breath. Held it, then let it out slowly. If there was one thing your previous attempts had taught you, it was that this required patience. Go too fast and he’d wake up before you were ready.

Holding your breath, you placed your hands on top of his thigh. He didn’t stir. You breathed a sigh of relief. The first touch was among the most fraught, one of the moments where he was mostly likely to be startled awake. You gently massaged his thigh, marveling as you always did at the muscle laying under his skin.

He shifted, murmuring something too soft and jumbled for you to make you. For a moment, you thought you had failed. Again. But just as soon as it had started, the movement ended. When your fingers dared to brush against the more sensitive skin of his inner thigh, the skin rippled but otherwise there was no reaction.

Except his cock. It was waking up even if the rest of him wasn’t. As it had every time you had tried this. Could be the touching. Matt loved being touched, always leaning into your touch and looking a little disappointed whenever the touching stopped. Could be your arousal. You could feel how wet you were. Matt had shown himself unable to ignore such things. He might be able to restrain himself from ravishing you on the pool table at Josie’s but not from whispering all the things he wanted to do with you once you were alone in your ear.

Your cunt clenched at those memories. And had to take a moment to supress the urge to just grab his partially erect cock. As much as you wanted him inside you, that would absolutely wake Matt up. And you didn’t get that many chances to attempt this fantasy.

Your patience was rewarded. When you slipped your hand around his cock, it twitched and Matt murmured again but did not wake. Feeling more confident, you used a combination of your hands and mouth to work him into full hardness. All the while, Matt’s murmuring increased, sometimes becoming clear enough to be understand (sweetheart . . . . yes . . . please), along with his restless movements. Still in the depths of sleep but he was swimming toward the surface.

You didn’t have much time left. It was time to be bold. After making sure his cock was coated in your slick, you lined it up with your entrance and began to sink down. You couldn’t contain your moans. Even the smallest amount of him inside you felt so good . . . a feeling that only grew as you brought him deeper and deeper inside you. Until he was fully sheathed inside your cunt.

And wonder of wonders, Matt was on that gray zone between sleeping and awake. His eyes hadn’t fluttered open yet but he was aware enough that his hands were grabbing your ass. Not quite aware enough to stop the restless movements of his hips. Or the whiny moans from spilling out of his mouth.

Smiling in triumphant, you braced your hands on his chest and began to ride him.

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Sharing an Umbrella🪻

leo my love...

Ship: Duke Leopold Mountbatten x f!Reader

Rating: 13+

Wordcount: 499

Warnings: cursing

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

The New York City streets were bathed in swathes of neon lights, refracted by rain pelting the asphalt. Deep puddles lined the sidewalks like coursing streams. Small waterfalls leaked off rooves and gutters onto the pedestrians going about their business on this dreary day.

You and Leo were walking, hand in hand, from your shared apartment to your favorite bakery a few blocks down. A royal purple umbrella was held in Leo's hand to shield the two of you from the downpour. At one point your head had landed on his shoulder, the two of you huddled under your shelter.

Easy banter flowed between you. Talk of which coffee is the best, the correct way to cook an egg, and other menial discussions passed in clouded breaths. A dull chill had settled amongst the raindrops. It clung to your jackets in gusts of humid air. The cold burrowed through the wool material of your coat and started to seep into your bones.

Luckily, the bakery was in sight, the comforting glow from the windows shining on the pavement just on the other side of the road. You and Leo waited at the corner while the crosswalk sign flashed red. A small crowd of disgruntled New Yorkers gathered around the two of you.

"Lovely day, isn't it?" Leo asked a shivering woman to his right. She threw him a squinted glare, crow's feet deepening as she narrowed her eyes. Her disdain was met with Leo's signature, bright smile.

Green illuminated the gloom as you dragged your partner away. You sighed, shaking your head at his antics. He knew exactly what he was doing. Leo just relished in messing with people in inconsequential ways.

"I think she liked me," he mused, rainboots splashing in the curb's puddles. White stripes lined the crosswalk between you and your destination.

"Uh huh, yes dear," you returned with an air of sarcasm.

Leo answered your remark by dumping the rain that'd collected on the top of the umbrella over your head. You squealed, darting away and across the street, now thoroughly drenched. His boisterous laugh followed you as you hopped up onto the curb. Rainwater dripped from the hem of your coat onto the slick pavement.

"Asshole!" you called over the crowd. A few sideways glances were directed your way at the shout. It was only a few moments before the much drier Leo joined you on the sidewalk.

"Apologies, my dear. The handle must've slipped," he said through a knowing smirk.

"You're buying me coffee for that," you grumbled, not truly mad at him. How could you be? Even just being in his proximity made your brief annoyance leak from you into the puddles. And he knew it, too. That mischievous glint never left his hazel eyes whenever he was near.

"I'll even throw in a pastry," he added lightly. His warm hand brushed a trail of rain from the side of your face. You leaned into the touch, every trace of tension sapped from your body.

this is short and sweet :)

taglist: @just-a-nightdreamer @www-interludeshadow-com @lemurianstarship @venomqueen2002 @c1eepypas1a @amphitrite-5 @yarrystyleeza @theestorm @being-worthy

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A House That Isn’t A Home

Description: A look into Axl’s home life

Prompt: Broken (day 3)

Part 2 of “You’re My Red Rose”

⚠️WARNINGS ⚠️: PHYSICAL ABUSE, SUICIDAL IDEATION

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Andrew unlocked the door with the extra key his father, John, had made for him. They entered to see Mia, his little half-sister, sitting on the couch, hugging her pink teddy bear. John was seated at the table with his head resting in the palm of his hand. Empty beer bottles and cans surrounded him. His mother, Maude, was at work, not getting off until 10 o’clock that night, which meant John was drinking to pass the time. He turned his head to look at the two boys standing at the door. Andrew pushed Axl towards. Axl stepped back. He was now less than an inch away from Andrew

“What he done did, Drew?” John asked in his strong country accent.

Axl could hear Andrew chuckle. “Kissing boys, Pops.”

You could hear a pin drop in the room with how silent it was in there.The first person to move after a period where they all stood still was John. He started to undo his belt. Axl knew what that meant. As if a trigger was pulled, Mia covered her ears and looked at the wall behind her. John charged at him. He tried to run, but Andrew held him down. John swatted the belt at him, striking the outer part of his leg. It stung.

Axl kicked and kicked and kicked in an attempt to break from Andrew’s hold. He failed. Andrew had a tight grip on him. John struck him again on the arm, leaving behind a red mark.

“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again! I’m sorry!” Axl pleaded, tasting the salt of his tears.

“You better be sorry,” John grumbled.

He finally stopped swinging. Andrew let him go. Axl immediately ran to his and Mia’s room, falling onto his bed. He buried his face into his pillow, letting the tears run wild. The sting from the seats lingered on his skin. Loud footsteps could be heard approaching him. He quickly jumped up, afraid his father had returned to continue. However, he was met with Mia’s terrified eyes. He apologized for scaring her. She ran to him and wrapped her arms around. He pulled her into his lap, resting his head on top of hers as they snuggled. She looked up at him with tears in his eyes.

“Don’t cry, Mia.” Axl soothed, brushing back her brown hair.

She sniffed. “I thought-I thought-I thought he was going to kill you, Billy.”

She cried harder, hugging herself tightly against his chest. Axl didn’t know what to say. He thought he was going to kill him, too.

“It’s going to be okay, Mia” was all he could come up with.

Axl wasn’t going to make that a promise. John was getting more violent by the day. He was sure that one day he was going to snap and…do despicable things. John and Andrew went to the gun range almost every weekend. They had a passion for weapons of different kinds. That was the one thing they bonded over as father and son. Axl knew John wasn’t afraid to use it. He could recall the day he came home from school to witness John threatening his mother with a pistol against her head. His finger inches from pulling the trigger. Axl sat there and watched as John threatened to shoot her if he dared to call the police.

From that day forward, he tried to stay on John’s good side, if there was even one, to keep Mia safe. The pressures of school and being basically the only caregiver of his little sister was becoming too much for him. Some days he wanted to end it. To take John's gun and put a bullet into his own head, but he knew if he did, there would be nobody to give Mia the care she deserved. He would rather live with this feeling than see her get hurt whilst his soul is free.

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A Second Pillow (Frank Castle x Fem!Reader)

Hello!! Please pretend I'm not 3 days late lmaooo...here's my first addition to the lovely Tuna-Tober!

Tuna-Tober Day 1: Falling Asleep In A Hospital Room

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

Warnings: hospital, mention of injuries, a little bit of angst with fluff

Word Count: 600

“Frank,” you said quietly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He hadn’t let go of you since he got here, hadn’t taken his eyes off you, hadn’t stopped making sure you were safe. “You can go home. I’m okay.”

“Not a chance, sweetheart,” he responded, his voice even lower than usual with how he was fighting to stay awake. It was past three in the morning, and you’d both been here since noon when he had rushed you to the emergency room. “If they wanna discharge you tomorrow morning, I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

You smile fondly, your thumb rubbing back and forth on his hand. “I appreciate the chivalry, but you look like you’re going to pass out. At least go get some coffee.”

He just shakes his head, shifting slightly in his seat. “I'm fine. You warm enough? Need another pillow?”

Frank, to most, seemed like an impassive man. His set jaw, his furrowed brows, his constant attempts to keep this expression blank, it all pointed to the conclusion he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. But you knew him. You knew his insistence on staying put, his frequent scans of the room, and the periodic twitching of his index finger meant he was worried out of his mind. He knew you were safe. Logically, he knew you were going to be fine. But the sight of you in a hospital bed had him on edge. He felt compelled to find the threat, something he could put down to keep you alive and well. 

“Frank,” you said softly. “I’m okay. It’s just a broken bone.”

“Two broken bones.” he corrected gruffly.

You gave him a nonchalant shrug. “One broken bone, two broken bones…the only difference is gonna be my hospital bill.” you tried for a laugh but only got a grimace. You sat up and put your other hand below your joined ones, bringing them up to kiss his.

“I’m okay. I’m safe. I’m with you. Alright?”

He just stared at you for a moment, his eyes unconvinced and wavering. 

With a small grunt you move yourself to the right and pat the open spot next to you. “C’mon, big guy. You need some sleep.”

“I’m fine—“

“If you’re not gonna listen to me when I say I’m fine, I won’t listen to you when you say it. Come on.” you pat the spot again. When he doesn’t move, you cross your arms and raise an eyebrow. “Really? You would deny a woman cuddles?”

That cracked his shell, a twitch in his lips making him smile, just a little bit. It was the world to you. 

“There’s barely enough room on that mattress for you by yourself--”

You sighed, shaking your head and feigning offense. “No, no, I see how it is. I guess I’ll just have to sleep in here all by myself. Alone. Cold. Wounded--”

“Oh hell--”

You beamed as he climbed in next to you, moving close to him to rest your head on his chest.

“Easy, easy, be careful, honey.” he grumbled, enveloping your body in his arms, careful to not bump into your injuries. 

Once you were both settled and comfortable you sighed, letting your eyes drift shut. His fingers trailed back and forth on your forearm in a soothing motion, pressing a kiss to the top of your head every now and then. It wasn’t long before you both fell asleep, the sound of each other’s breathing a soothing lullaby.

@tunatober

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"Don't Let Go" (Michael Kinsella x F!Reader, Fic)

Time for Day Six of the Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! I chose the angst prompt, "Shh, I've got you now. I'm here." with Michael Kinsella! I originally planned to use all three prompts (the above plus 'love bites' and 'spread your legs for me') but this one just sorta worked beautifully focusing on the angst prompt alone, despite my plan. May come back and do a sequel with the other two prompts eventually. You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me. Also, if you'd like notifications when I post a new story, drabble, or chapter, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications! And off we go!

Ship: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader

Wordcount: 1.1k

Warnings for this chapter: angst, blood, injury care, mention of reader briefly held hostage, language, mention of domestic violence, some shouting and breaking things (Michael is very angry here, just not at you).

His hands shaking, Michael cleaned you up in the bathroom.

You weren’t sure if that tremor was due to fear, or… or exhaustion, maybe. He probably hadn’t gotten much sleep the past two nights while you’d been missing, held captive in an abandoned building by a group of men who’d been looking to blackmail the Kinsella family. It hadn’t worked out well for them based on the dead bodies you’d seen when Michael had grimly carried you out past his brothers, his hands stained heavily with blood and smelling of fresh gunpowder. 

It was those hands—the very same hands that had so recently dealt out death and destruction—that now tended gently to your wounds. With barely a word save a soothing murmur whenever you winced, he washed away the crusted grime and dried blood from your body in the shower before settling you down on the side of the porcelain tub. Once you were comfortable, he set about cleaning out and bandaging the bloody cuts on your hands and face, the torn skin on your wrists left by the handcuffs, and the burns along your forearm from the cigarettes one man had decided to put out against your skin when you’d spat in his face.

With every injury Michael cared for, however, the more his hands shook, his breathing growing sharper, hissing out from between his clenched teeth. 

No. This wasn’t fear or exhaustion making his hands shake, you realized. This was… 

He rose from where he’d been kneeling in front of you. He stared down at you for a moment with those dark eyes of his, taking all of you in for the first time since bringing you back home—taking in every last swollen bruise and vicious cut, every bandage and mark of pain left behind by those who had wanted to harm his family by using you against him.

…This was rage.

He snatched up the first aid kit, turned, and hurled it with a furious scream. It shattered against the wall in the hall, its impact leaving a crumbling hole in the drywall. Gauze and ointment, bottles of pills and splinters of plastic scattered left and right.

“Michael,” you said weakly. “I’m ok now.”

It was as if he hadn’t even heard you. “I’m goin’ ta find the rest of ‘em and kill 'em for this!” he snarled savagely, his accent even thicker in his fury. Gone was the gentle lilt, the familiar softness he always seemed to gain in his voice when he spoke to you or about you. Now he was every inch the dangerous Kinsella that so many feared, though not you. Never you. Even now you weren’t afraid, despite the way he whirled and paced wildly in front of you, as if looking for the very same ones who’d so recently hurt you. This was rage in your defense, and that made all the difference. 

“Michael—”

“They think I can’t find ‘em?” he spat. “They really think I can’t? I’ll hunt down every last fuckin’ one’a them filthy little cunts fer puttin’ their hands on ya! By the time I’m done wit’ em, there won’t be enough’a their fuckin’ bodies left for their mams to bloody bury!”

This time it was the drinking glass on the counter that paid the price. It flew out into the hall to shatter violently against the wall just beside the mark left by the first aid kit. Glittering shards of glass, some pieces still damp, joined the rest of the debris on the floor.  

“Michael.” You heaved yourself upright on shaky legs, wobbly as a newborn fawn. And it hurt, it hurt to move, cuts tugging, body aching. You tried to blink the dampness away in your eyes, not now, come on. “It’s alright—” “Don’t tell me it’s alright when they hurt ya!” he roared. But the moment he swung back around to face you and saw you on your feet, he spat out a curse. He stormed across the bathroom before you could take more than a step. “Daft woman, sit your arse back down before ya fall over!”

One hand still braced against the wall, you lifted your other arm quickly towards him. He lurched to a stop before he could touch you, an expression of horror twisting across his face, all furrowed brow and parted lips. Only then did you realize what that must have looked like to him—your arm held up to fend him off, trying to stop him from coming towards you, tears in your eyes as if you were… as if you were terrified of him and what he had been doing. 

Gone in a breath was the rage, the fury, replaced by a gutted, heartbroken grief. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d have said he was about to cry, too. “Ya didn’t think I was goin’ to…” he whispered, swallowing hard and taking a cautious step back. “I… I swear, pet, I would never—” 

“God, no, Mikey. I know you weren’t going to hit me,” you croaked, trying to put your arm out again in a more welcoming way, and if your breath started to hitch, tears now beginning to roll down your cheeks despite your best efforts, well, surely you were entitled to that, because it had been a horrible few days and the longer you stood here, the more you began to shiver and hurt. It had only been a few minutes since you’d been in his arms, but your body clearly wasn’t ready yet for even that much separation. Emotion welled up inside you like a dark wave, endless, bottomless. You were terrified you’d drown beneath it without him to help you keep your head above water. “I was trying to… could you come over here and… and hold me? I just need…”

He caught you just as the first choked sob tore its way out of your throat, the strength of the sound so violent, so raw it almost frightened you. One of his arms quickly wound around your waist, pulling you in against the comforting, familiar warmth and strength of his chest. His other hand rose to gently cradle the back of your head, bringing your head down so you could bury it against his neck. He rumbled low, soothing notes into your ear, tender words of comfort as you desperately tried to breathe in the scent of whiskey and leather, gun oil and rain between your heaving breaths and broken sobs.

“There ya go. Shh, I’ve got ya now, pet,” he whispered, laying his cheek against your hair. He shifted the two of you carefully across the floor until he could ease himself down on top of the toilet seat, pulling you slowly into his lap. You went without a fight, clinging to him, the fabric of his shirt held tight between your fists as if it were your lifeline. “I’ve got ya now. Let it all out. I’m here, darlin’. Yer safe with me.” 

“Don’t let go,” you choked out, “Please.” “Never. I promise.”

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "Are you blushing?"🐟✨

✨🐟Find the rest of the Tuna-Tober prompts here, and remember to follow to see what other prompt fics these writers might drop this October!🐟 ✨

Compliments

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x fem!Reader Word Count: 1.4k [Tuna-Tober Masterlist]

Tuna-Tober Prompt: "Are you blushing?"

Warnings/tags: 18+; mentions of sex, sheer fluff, making Mikey blush, naked cuddling in bed

Summary: You notice the way Michael always reacts when given a compliment and you quickly wonder what would happen if you showered him with multiple at once.

a/n: Mikey deserves to be showered with compliments on the daily and you cannot change my mind. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Shivering beneath the sheets, your eyelids slowly opened. Soft, faint morning light was seeping past the plain navy blue curtains as you lay along the bed, your body partially curled in along itself. Goosebumps had already begun to dot your skin just before you’d fully stirred awake, the chill of Michael’s bedroom the most likely culprit for you waking just as the sun had begun to rise. Craving his body heat, you nestled a little further backwards into his body behind you.

Last night had been the first night he’d ever asked you to stay over at his place, but you had not anticipated just how needy Michael would become when he awoke in the middle of the night with you in his bed. You weren’t going to complain about the pleasant ache that you could now feel between your thighs, smiling at the memory of Michael half-awake as he buried himself into you over and over, but as another involuntary shudder raced through your body, you regretted not dressing before falling back asleep last night. 

A hand cautiously smoothed its way over your bare hip and your body startled beneath the touch, jumping slightly in surprise. Head rolling along the pillow, you spotted Michael’s shy smile greeting you from where he lay along his own pillow behind you. His eyes were half-lidded and creased at the corners, that lone dimple in his cheek present on his tired face.

“G’morning, pet,” he greeted groggily. “How’d ya sleep?”

“Good,” you answered, rolling over in bed to face him. “Even better thanks to that midnight interruption.”

“Mmm,” he happily hummed out, his sleepy grin growing. “I'd have to agree with ya, that definitely helped me sleep better. And now it's a perfect mornin’ wakin’ with ya here.”

“It is,” you agreed. “Except I am absolutely freezing in here,” you told him, playfully pouting as you inched a bit closer to his naked body. “I will never get used to the constant chill in the air here.”

Michael’s expression shifted from sleepy to concerned as his dark brows furrowed together. “I'm sorry, pet. I didn't realize ya were cold. C'mere,” he said, his hand on your hip tugging you closer to the front of himself. “Let me help ya with that.”

Allowing him to draw you right up against his body, you reveled in the heat radiating off of him and seeping into the front of yourself. Wrapping your arms around him beneath the sheets, you smiled back at him as he slipped one of his large, warm thighs between your own. His body heat alone was quickly chasing the chill straight out of you and it had you further relaxing against him.

“How's that?” he asked. “Better?”

“Mmm,” you hummed pleasantly, one hand tracing absent patterns along his back. “Much. You're like a furnace, you know that? Or a giant space heater.”

“Oh I am, am I?” he questioned with a grin. 

You nodded, your fingers still brushing the tips of your nails affectionately back and forth across his back. You swore you saw him shudder a few times when your fingertips passed alongside his spine.

“A really handsome, really sexy space heater,” you teased, shooting him a wink. 

Michael chuckled lightly, his gaze briefly averting from you as he glanced just over your shoulder. Biting your lip, you'd caught on once more to the way he usually seemed to react to your compliments. Always with a soft, nervous laugh and sometimes a deflecting comment before he looked anywhere but at you. You quickly found yourself wondering what would happen if you suddenly complimented him repeatedly.

“With a very skilled mouth,” you mischievously added on. “A beautiful, talented mouth.”

“Oh, is that so?” he replied, his eyes hesitantly meeting yours again. “So I take it yer first night stayin’ over was grand then?”

“More than grand,” you answered, noting the way he changed the subject. “I never realized you were such a great cook. And you even clean dishes despite my insistence to let me take care of them. Ever the gentleman, Mikey.”

Michael shrugged sheepishly, the sheets slipping down his shoulder at the movement. “‘M not sure if I'd say I'm a great cook, but I'm glad ya enjoyed dinner last night. And o'course I wasn't goin’ to have ya clean up after.” He cleared his throat, his eyes once more darting away from your own. “If yer…not in a rush this mornin’ I'd happily cook ya some breakfast.”

You caught the nervous tinge to his tone when he'd asked you to stay longer this morning. As if he expected you to want to wake and immediately dart out the door instead of lingering and spending more time with him.

“I'd love to have breakfast with you, Mikey,” you told him, watching as his face brightened at your answer. “Though after how you repeatedly took care of me last night, maybe I should be the one making you breakfast this morning. You know, as a thank you for dinner and the multiple orgasms that followed.”

Grinning coyly back at Michael, you teasingly waggled your brows at him before shooting him another wink. Michael huffed out a laugh, his eyes once more flying to land somewhere just past where you lay. You were about to say something more, but then you noticed a slight tinge of color in his cheeks beginning to peek through his beard.

“Michael Kinsella, are you blushing right now?” you asked in surprise. 

Another little nervous chuckle fell from his lips as he ducked his head, entirely averting his gaze. Unable to resist how sweet his reaction was, you tugged him tighter to yourself and Michael quickly buried his face against your neck in an attempt to hide, his beard pleasantly tickling your skin.

“Yer bein’ so nice,” he mumbled. “‘M’not used to it.”

“Well get used to it, Michael,” you told him, leaning forward to plant a kiss to the top of his head. “Because I'm going to tell you how amazing, intelligent, sweet, handsome, and brilliant you are all of the time. Because clearly you haven't been told all of that remotely enough and I have a responsibility to change that.”

“Ya do, d'ya?” he asked, his voice muffled against your skin.

“Mhmm,” you hummed back, your hands still soothingly brushing up and down his bare back beneath the bed sheets. “Until you believe it. And then even after that.”

Michael made a noise that sounded like something mixed between a sigh and huff. You giggled before placing another kiss into the mess of his dark hair.

“Yer too good for me, pet,” he said, lips brushing your neck as he spoke. “Don't know how I found ya.”

“Yes you do,” you countered with a laugh. “You saved the poor tourist struggling to find a coffee shop and now you're stuck with me.”

“Best damn decision I ever made, too,” he replied with a chuckle, face still hidden against your neck. “Ya just looked so damn cute wanderin’ ‘round Dublin confused, but I couldn't let ya continue on strugglin’.” 

“And now you're giving me mind-blowing orgasms,” you teased. 

A burst of deep laughter came from Michael, his body shaking against yours. You smiled at the sound, one of your hands reaching up to affectionately play with his hair.

“Dunno ‘bout that, pet,” he said once his laughter had subsided. He withdrew his face from your neck, his eyes finally meeting yours again. “But how ‘bout I make us some breakfast? How d'ya like yer eggs?”

Your bottom lip rolled between your teeth as you bit back a smile at him trying to change the subject once again. “Fertilized,” you joked.

Michael rolled his eyes, but the smile grew on his own mouth. “Ya goin’ to be like this all mornin’?” he asked.

“Yes,” you answered. “Because I love seeing the beautiful smile on your face where it belongs.”

Another bit of red tinged Michael’s cheeks at the compliment before he loosed another chuckle and glanced away. Smiling triumphantly to yourself, you settled in for a morning of complimenting him at every opportunity that presented itself.

Michael Kinsella One Shot Tag List: @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @shiorimakibawrites @wkndwlff @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @stilldreaming666 @will-delete-this-later-probably @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @sunflower-tia @kezibear @loves0phelia @millennial-birkin @steve-chandler @flowher