✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: WATER GUN FIGHT🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

"From A Squirt Gun, With Love" (Bucky Barnes x F!Reader, Fic)

Time for the next prompt for my Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! This is for day 5's prompt: water gun fight. It's also been a while since I've written for my favorite super soldier, so today's prompt is for Bucky Barnes! 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! Side note, once I've got more these will all be edited a bit more and placed on my AO3, so if you lose one, just keep an eye out over there!

Ship: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Wordcount: 1.5k

Warnings for this chapter, let's do this: some suggestive dialogue and innuendo

You couldn’t afford another mistake. 

He’d been hunting you for at least an hour now, stalking you determinedly through the corridors of the compound and the manicured gardens outside. He’d already nailed you half a dozen times. And much to your disbelief, one of those times was because he’d somehow managed to find his way up into the air vents where he could track you unseen. You’d done your best to at least make it a challenge for him, relying on a variety of traps you’d managed to set up ahead of time, but it hadn’t done you as much good as you’d hoped, your hit count a measly two against his six. And now? Now you were running low on ammunition, and just as low on workable options. What was worse, he’d cornered you in the garage. You’d been able to tuck yourself beneath an SUV before he could see you, but there was only one exit—one currently being monitored by your annoyingly precise marksman of a boyfriend. 

You held your breath at the quiet scrape of heavy combat boots scuffing against the concrete floor. If you had to guess, he was wandering around about two rows over and off to your left. He could have bent over and just scanned beneath the cars immediately, but he was enjoying this far too much to let it end that easily. He was toying with you, dragging things out now that he had you boxed in. 

“I know you’re in here, doll,” came his low chuckle. “Come on out, and I’ll go easy on you. Besides, you gotta be soaked by now, and not in the fun way. But I can change that for you if you want. All you gotta do is pop that pretty head up for me.”

Not a chance. 

You weren’t going down without a fight. 

You clutched your water gun tighter, checking the glowing tactical display—you hadn’t even known high-tech water guns existed until Bucky had dropped one into your hands with a grin. “If my girl wants a water gun fight, we’re gettin’ a water gun fight.” 

And what you saw wasn’t good. 

Shit. 

You were down to eighteen percent tank capacity. Anywhere else in the compound, you might have had a chance to reload with one of the buckets you’d both scattered around, but you’d forgotten to put one in the garage. If you didn’t get him with your next shot, you were done. 

“The fact that you’re not out here shootin’ at me like before tells me you’re low.” His voice sounded different now: higher up, and a bit more distant. Had he… climbed on top of the cars? “You need more practice. I’ll admit, I was proud of you when you got that ass shot in, but that ain’t happenin’ again. My turn to get your ass now, darlin’. You gonna give me what’s mine?”

You sucked your lower lip for a moment before carefully edging your way forward, water gun held in front of you just in case he decided to pull a horror movie move and drop into view. It wasn’t easy. The goddamn water gun was shaped more like a shotgun than a super soaker, clunky and a bitch to drag around. The upside was it had an automatic reload so you didn’t have to worry about making any noise while pumping the gun. Its range was good for a water gun, around twenty feet, but not good enough that you could shoot Bucky at distance. You’d need to get close.

One of the cars down the row creaked, tires groaning, presumably as your massive super soldier of a boyfriend strolled along the top of the cars like they were paving stones. That he wasn’t bothering to be silent was… unusual.

“Here, kitty kitty,” he purred, his voice growing fainter as he wandered down towards the other end of the garage. “Where’s my pretty girl gone?”

On the one hand, you enjoyed hearing that tone from him, playful and relaxed, warm and content. He’d grown pretty comfortable with you, open and affectionate, over the time you’d known him. That comfort, that openness with you had only blossomed further as your relationship had morphed into something romantic. But even so, it was still unusual for him to let go like this just so he could have fun. It was progress, and that knowledge filled your heart with a sparkling warmth. 

But you also couldn’t help but be the least bit suspicious, because it would be absolutely like him to use his voice and playful tone to distract you from something. 

You froze again when a pair of boots suddenly appeared on the concrete in front of you, landing without a sound—you’d been right; all the sound a minute ago had been to try to lure you out, make you think he was farther away than he really was. You didn’t dare move, not when the slightest sound might give you away. Slowly, the boots shifted on the concrete as he turned one way, and then the other. Waiting for you to make a run for it. 

But he’d taught you better than that. 

There was the softest, quietest little huff of amusement, or maybe pride, instead. But instead of heading off, he began to kneel. 

Shit, shit, shit—

He was going to duck down and look under the car. He knew you were here, he had to. He had to. Could you shift the angle of your water gun before he leaned down and saw you—

Fortunately for you, it became clear a second later that he was only lowering himself into a crouch. You stilled again in the shadows beneath the SUV, your gun still aimed cautiously at his legs.

Speaking of wish, you had a really good view of his thighs at this angle. With him crouched the way he was, his thighs looked even thicker than usual, deliciously hard muscle covered in old denim. The round curve of his ass looked just as good where he filled out his jeans, though the dark splotch on the tight fabric made you grin. It was a testament to one of the only two shots you’d managed to him with. Sure, he’d shot you twice in the ass in retaliation, but it had been absolutely worth it. 

He settled onto the balls of his feet, rocking a little back and forth. You heard a soft whir, before his metal hand appeared in your view. Your heart skipped a beat, a droplet of maybe-water-maybe-sweat rolling down your temple. Only… his hand didn’t appear to be going for you like you’d expected. Instead, it slipped down to the concrete. One metal fingertip gleaming in the fluorescent lighting, it brushed lightly at the droplets of water drying on the concrete. 

Fresh droplets. 

From you. 

Crap. 

His head appeared beneath the SUV as he leaned over to meet your eye. Then he flashed you a feral grin. “Hi doll,” he said smugly. “Hi Bucky. I love you,” you said fondly, and shot him in the face. 

His head reared back as he spat out a curse, frantically swiping the water away from his face. It gave you just enough time for you to squirm out from under the SUV and take off down row between the cars, your sneakers slapping against the concrete, the wind blowing your hair back. If you could get to the door before he did, you could turn around and lock him in. It wouldn’t keep him here forever, but it might buy you a few minutes to reload. 

Based on the rapidly pounding footsteps behind you, though, you weren’t even going to get close. Not when it sounded like he was charging after you with every last bit of super-soldier-powered speed he had. You needed another plan, or else—

Something slammed hard against one of the cars behind you, startling you enough to make you stumble. In that brief moment of distraction, Bucky had vaulted himself up off the car and over your head. 

His broad form landed smoothly in front of you in one easy motion, dropping into a crouch. He rose slowly, powerful muscle gradually uncoiling inch by inch, until finally he loomed up over you, water gun held ominously in one hand. His pale eyes had gone dark with heat, pupils blown wide as he fixated on you: his prey. He took one prowling step forward, a flash of pink from his tongue as he lazily licked the droplets of water away from his mouth.

“You shot me,” he rumbled hungrily. “I should be mad. But damn, doll. That was hot.” “Hot enough to stop you from shooting me back?” you asked hopefully.

“Not a chance,” he said with a smirk, before firing a blast of cold water directly at your abdomen. You let out another shriek, turning to sprint away from him, a trail of damp footprints left behind. And if your shriek was half laughter, well, his playful growl was just as full of joy as he took off after you. 

🌊TUNA-TOBER🌊 PROMPT CHALLENGE 2024

Hello friends! Are you looking for a prompt challenge for 2024, but don't really feel the desire to stick to only one genre? Does your sole feel betta suited to taking on a prompt challenge that provides options for kink, fluff, AND angst? Or, are you just looking to see what delicious fics or art might spawn from some of the gill-iant minds of a few writers and artists on tumblr? Whale, here's your chance!

(fine, I'll put away the puns, just know I did it on porpoise)

Started by the Murdock's Tuna Team discord server, the Tuna-Tober Prompt Challenge is a unique fic/art challenge, in which for every day in October, you are provided one of three prompts: a kink prompt, a fluff prompt, and a whump/angst prompt. Like many other 'Tober prompt challenges, it isn't mandatory to complete all the prompts. You're free to choose as you please! Do one! Do ten! Do one a day! Do them all! Mix and swap as needed! The Tuna-Tober Prompt Challenge is meant to stir your creativity, not fill you with stress. There also is no fandom or character requirement, so chase that muse where She leads you. In addition to our three prompts for each day of October, there are also four sets of backup prompts, just in case you hit a day where you just ain't feeling the three that were provided.

This blog isn't just for the rules, however. It'll also be reblogging any Tuna-Tober fics or art that our lovely team of writers and artists complete so we can keep them all in one place! If you'd like to read those fics, all you have to do is give us a follow. And if you really don't want to miss anything, feel free to set us for notifications!

If you're taking part in Tuna-Tober, either as a writer or an artist, please remember to tag your fic or art: Tuna-Tober 2024. That way I can find your fics or art to reblog. If you only post on AO3, you can also make a post here on tumblr linking to it (remember to tag it), and I can reblog that. Once I have the time, I'll set up a collection on AO3 that'll gather up any fics or art we have there, too! ❤️

Without further ado, our prompts!

Day 1: Falling Asleep In A Hospital Room ⚜ Reading To Each Other ⚜ Somnophilia

Day 2: “Why? Why do you love me?” ⚜ Flower Crowns ⚜ Mutual Masturbation

Day 3: Broken ⚜ “I feel real when i’m with you.” ⚜ Role Reversal

Day 4: “This isn’t you.” ⚜ “Are you blushing?” ⚜ Sixty-Nine

Day 5: Self-Loathing ⚜ Watergun Fight ⚜ Begging

Day 6: "Shh, I've got you now. I'm here." ⚜ Love Bites ⚜ “Spread your legs for me.”

Day 7: Nightmare ⚜ Honest Apology ⚜ Nothing Underneath

Day 8: Shaking ⚜ “You can sleep here tonight.” ⚜ Overstimulation

Day 9: Anxiety ⚜ “You don’t need to do that.” “I want to.” ⚜ “Open your mouth.”

Day 10: "I'm not good enough." ⚜ A Hug That Lasts A Little Too Long ⚜ Strap-on/Pegging

Day 11: Tears ⚜ “I’d be lost without you.” ⚜ Breast Worship

Day 12: "I did it for you.” ⚜ “You remembered?” ⚜ Deep-Throating

Day 13: Loneliness ⚜ Playful Kiss ⚜ “Beg me for it.”

Day 14: "Please look at me." ⚜ Sleep Talking ⚜ Accidental Stimulation

Day 15: Hiding An Injury ⚜ “Are you jealous?” ⚜ Threesome

Day 16: Exhaustion ⚜ Accidental Kiss ⚜ Against A Window

Day 17: "I'm not leaving you." ⚜ Tickling ⚜ “Touch yourself for me.”

Day 18: Scars ⚜ Pillow Fort ⚜ “I’m so proud of you, you’re taking me so well.”

Day 19: Touch starved ⚜ “I’ll always be there for you.” ⚜ Gags

Day 20: "Who did this to you?" ⚜ There Was Only One Bed ⚜ “You were made for me, weren’t you?”

Day 21: Fainting/Collapsing ⚜ Flustered ⚜ “Was that an order?”

Day 22: "You haven't done anything wrong." ⚜ Breathless Kiss ⚜ Aphrodisiacs

Day 23: Father ⚜ “If you won’t take care of yourself, I will.” ⚜ Toys

Day 24: Drugged ⚜ Drunken Confession ⚜ “Shh, do you want them to hear us?”

Day 25: "What's Wrong?" ⚜ Playing With Their Hair ⚜ “Did I say you could do that?”

Day 26: "You're not fine." ⚜ “Shut up and kiss me.” ⚜ Under The Desk

Day 27: Near Death Experience ⚜ Overheard Confession ⚜ “Let me see what that pretty mouth can do.”

Day 28: Chronic Pain ⚜ Sharing An Umbrella ⚜ Hair Pulling

Day 29: "Talk to me, please." ⚜ Forehead Kiss ⚜ Restraints

Day 30: Healing ⚜ Road Trip ⚜ “Take it off. Slowly.”

Day 31: "Why wasn't I enough?" ⚜ Blanket Hog ⚜ Stockings/Thigh Highs

🌊Tuna-Tober🌊 Backup Prompts:

Bound/Chained ⚜ Moving In Together ⚜ Almost Getting Caught

"Take me instead." ⚜ “I’m in love with you, and that scares me.” ⚜ High Heels

Insomnia ⚜ Adopting A Pet ⚜ Scent Marking

"You're not alone." ⚜ Playing A Game Together ⚜ Ass Worship

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: THREESOME 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

Threesome🔥

going a bit off script on day 2 because i'm a HEATHEN anyway enjoy

Ship: Worst!Logan Howlett x f!Reader x Wade Wilson

Rating: 18+

Wordcount: 776

Warnings: cursing, smut, threesome, Wade Wilson is his own warning, unprotected PiV, anal (f!receiving), use of petnames, kissing, cocaine mention

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

Your mind was fucking shattered.

Deep, guttural grunts rumbled from Logan beneath you with every deliberate thrust. Sharp canines scraped along your overheated skin. Whispers of "you're doing so good, baby" filtered from between his clenched teeth. His sweat-drenched skin was nearly sticking to yours due to your proximity. Barely a centimeter of space was left between the two of you.

It didn't help that Wade was on top of you, thrusting into you from behind, bearing his full weight on you as his hands fisted in the sheets. His wet tongue traced down your spine. Shivers erupted across your back in brutal waves.

"That's a good girl. Taking us so well. Isn't she, Wolvie?" Wade mused, voice muffled from where his lips connected with your skin. You gasped as a quick hitch in Wade's thrust nearly jostled Logan out of you.

"Watch it, red," Logan growled quietly. His large palms clung to your hips in near desperation. Gripping at your skin so tight you knew there'd be bruises in the morning. Not that you minded.

A light laugh rumbled against your back, "Feeling possessive, are we, Lo? Afraid I'll take our sunflower away from you?"

"Just shut up and fuck her, will you?" Logan said over your shoulder. He pressed a quick "sorry" behind your ear with a gentle kiss. You couldn't help the quiet moan that leaked from your throat.

"Let's make a game of it, shall we?" was all the warning Wade gave before he suddenly pulled out. You whined at how empty you now felt, craving both of them inside you every waking moment of your life. Wade ran a gentle hand down your back, "Shh, it's alright, angel cakes. I just wanna see if Lo-Lo's up to the task."

"The fuck is wrong with you, Wade?" Logan asked, propping himself up on his elbows to throw the merc a heavy glare. Now no one was focused on fucking you. You muttered obscenities under your breath as you buried your nose in Logan's shoulder. These two couldn't stop bickering for five minutes, let alone a whole night with just the three of you.

"I just wanted to challenge you, Mr.Not-a-Duke. Which of us do you think can make our sunbeam here come the fastest?" Wade offered with a cocky grin you could hear.

Logan scoffed, shaking his head, "I think you already know the answer to that."

"Yeah, and it'd be me," Wade returned.

"You must've taken some brain damage, because you know it'd be me," Logan bit back.

You groaned against Logan's neck, then nipped at the thin skin under his jaw, "Will someone please just fuck me?"

A shudder rolled over Logan's shoulders. He peered down at you through narrowed eyes. You could practically feel the seconds tick by as he remained still, just staring at you. Unease settled around your ribs. Logan was an impossible man to read, even at the best of times. When his pupils were blown, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, and his cock was inside you, it was even more difficult to gauge what he was thinking.

"Start a timer," he instructed Wade, gaze never leaving you. Arousal reignited in your abdomen like a stoked bonfire.

"Yes sir," Wade said with a wide smile. You heard rustling behind you as Wade grabbed one of the three phones on the nightstand.

The world spun without warning as you were flipped on your back. A gust of air shot from your lungs at the impact with the bed. Soft lips brushed along the skin under the hinge of your jaw.

"Go easy on me, huh? Wanna prove Wade wrong," Logan whispered in your ear. Flames licked at your skin, goosebumps rising in the wake of the Wolverine's gentle touch. Callused fingers grazed over you as light as feathers.

"I haven't started the timer yet, cheater! Any more unsportsmanlike behavior and I'll lock you out," Wade groused loudly. Logan breathed a chuckle along your collarbone.

"I'll just break the door down," he said as he threw you a wink. It took every bone in your body to keep your eyes from rolling back in your head.

"Break another door and Blind Al'll hide the cocaine again. When she hides shit, that stuff stays gone," Wade mumbled indignantly. Logan ignored the merc, fingers trailing ever-so slowly down your sensitive skin. A choked moan kicked out of your chest when Logan's thigh brushed against your swollen clit. Wade's wrinkled hand entered your periphery as he tapped on Logan's cheek, "Did you hear me, resident senior citizen? No cheating!"

It was going to be a long, long night.

may need to continue this in a future fic...

you ever get a comment that makes you want to reread your fic ?? it’s like ‘dang u liked it that much?? lemme go look’

✨🐟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... 🐟✨

✨🐟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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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "You remembered?"🐟✨

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Day 12 - "You remembered?"

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader Word Count: 599 Content: Fluff! Reader is allergic to milk (sorry fam) Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: And here’s day 12! It’s a little bit short but that’s because of how much I wrote for day 11 so forgive me about the length. Also this is totally self indulgent because I have a lot of severe food allergies (more than 5) and I just figured Matt would be like one of those dogs who can smell an allergen on a food. I wrote this very quickly and it's not beta read so I apologize for any mistakes!

It’s a busy night in Josie’s bar, it was lucky that you, Matt, Foggy and Karen were able to get a booth with how crowded it is. There was barely any standing room and you could tell the noise was starting to get to Matt.

“I’ll get us some drinks,” Foggy stands up and starts to squeeze his way towards the bar.

“Our usuals please Fog!” Karen calls out, “It’s been one hell of a week.”

“You’re telling me.” Matt responds and you smile, “At least it’s the weekend now, we can relax just a little bit.” You lean against Matt and he chuckles.

“Just for a bit.” He wraps his arm around your torso and brings you closer to him to kiss you on your check.

“Ew,” Karen teases, “Get your PDA outta here.” She points towards the exit and you both laugh.

A few minutes later Foggy comes back with a tray of drinks for you all, he and Matt have the cheapest beers known to man, a rum and coke for Karen and an espresso martini for you.

You’ve been trying your best to stay up longer at night for Matt when he goes out on his patrols, so far you’ve only been awake the one night he came back, most other nights you’re barely half awake or just asleep on the couch.

As Foggy hands you your drink, you notice Matt looking confused, “What’s wrong?”

“Your drink smells different,”

“Maybe Josie used decaf or something.” You joke, bringing the drink up to your lips.

“Wait!” Matt quickly takes the glass out of your hands, bringing the drink close up to his nose, “You can’t have this.”

“Aw what? Matt, come on!” Karen says.

You give Matt a questioning look before he takes a sip of your drink, “Yeah there’s milk in this.”

“What?” Foggy spits out his drink and looks over at you, “Did you drink it?”

“No I didn’t I- wait you remembered?”

“Your milk allergy? Of course sweetheart, why wouldn’t I?” He looks at you with concern.

Karen gasps, “Was it because of a shitty ex or something? Spill.”

“No it’s just-” You look down at your hands, “People usually forget about my allergy and I don’t blame them. It can be hard to remember sometimes.”

“It’s not hard to remember,” Matt tells you, “It’s worth remembering to keep you safe.” He takes your hand in his and gives it a small squeeze. You smile at him and nod your head in thanks.

“Hey, I’ll get you a new drink. Want anything in particular, aside from an espresso martini?” Karen asks as she gets out of the booth. 

“Let’s see how Josie does on a margarita,” You say to Karen and she laughs walking up to the bar.

Foggy gestures over towards Matt, “Just be sure to have your little allergen checker make sure it’s safe for you alright?”

Matt grins, “I wouldn't want it any other way.”

Karen soon comes back with your favorite flavor of margarita and before she hands it to you she gives it to Matt. 

After a moment he sets the drink down, lips forming a thin line. 

“Well?”

“. . .It’s safe,” “Matthew!!” Foggy cries out, “How dare you put us on edge like that?!”

Matt grins, “It was a funny,”

Foggy crosses his arms and glares at Matt, “. . . yeah it was a little funny.” 

You grab your margarita and start drinking along with everyone else, thankful to have a group of loved ones who care about your food allergies and are careful of what they have around you.

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✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: SLEEPOVER 🐟✨

✨🐟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 1 - Sleepover

Prompts: 18 - Pillow Fort Character: Matt Murdock Word Count: ~800 Warnings: Warm and fuzzy feelings, Matt's childhood Tags: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist

Sleepover

“What do you mean, you’ve never had a sleepover?”

The sheer disbelief in that question . . . it was hard not to flinch. Matt hunched his shoulders. “What don’t you understand?”

“I mean, your friends have never invited over to their house for the night? Or came over to your place?”

“Nooo,” Matt answered slowly. He had never had many friends. The few he had made as a child never expended such an invitation prior to the accident. And after the accident, when he returned to regular school, they ignored him entirely. Or joined others in trying to bully him by stealing his cane. He kept his distance from other children after that.

Told himself that he didn’t need friends. He didn’t want friends. Until Foggy had breached those particular walls, worming his way into Matt’s heart.

“Never?” Foggy asked. “Like, never never?”

“Yes . . . wait, does Nelson Christmas count?”

“Well, you do sleep in my room in a sleeping bag,” Foggy said thoughtfully. “So yeah, I suppose so.”

An irritated huff, then he continued, “But it just doesn’t seem right. That you’re first sleepover was Nelson Christmas at my grandma’s upstate.”

Matt shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“I suppose.”

He should have known that Foggy wasn’t letting it go. That wasn’t what Foggy did when he discovered something that he felt Matt had ‘missed out’ on.

And yet, when Foggy asked if he wanted to do a movie night on Thursday, Matt didn’t suspect anything was afoot. He simply agreed. And gave it no further thought than some curiosity about which films Foggy would pick out this time.

Needless to say, Matt was a little surprised when he returned to their dorm after class that Thursday to discover a new . . . structure? Stretched out between the twin beds and made of bedding? Mostly the bedding from both of their respective beds but some smelled like it had come from the Nelson’s . . .

“Hey buddy,” Foggy greeted as he came in. Accompanying him was the unmistakeable smell of pizza.

“Hey Fogs,” Matt said, as Foggy sat down the pizza boxes on one of the desks. “Is that The Pizza Pleaser?”

“It is,” Foggy said. “How’d you know?”

“Their red sauce doesn’t smell like any of the chains,” Matt answered. Which wasn’t the only way he knew which pizzeria but that was the safest answer. “I thought you were stuck with ramen this week?”

“I thought so too,” Foggy said, “But I found some cash hidden in my sock drawer. So tonight, we eat like kings.”

Matt tried to keep the frown off his face. Foggy wasn’t lying. Not exactly. There was truth in that statement but his heart betrayed that it wasn’t the entire truth. But there was no way to call Foggy on it without explaining how he knew so Matt let it go.

Besides, pizza sounded like a nice change from ramen.

“What’s this?” Matt asked, poking at the structure with his cane. “Feels like there is something between our beds.”

“There is. Tonight we are watching movies from the safety of Fort Murdock-Nelson.”

“Fort Murdock-Nelson?” Matt repeated.

“Yep! Made from our finest pillows and blankets.”

“Why?”

“Because sleeping in a pillow fort is something you do at a sleepover.”

“It is?” Matt said. “Is that we are doing tonight? A sleepover?”

“Yep,” Foggy popping the ‘p’. “We’re going to do all the sleepover things. Well minus Mom in her robe telling us to it’s 3 am, go to fucking sleep. Through the RA might do that if we get loud enough.”

“Let’s not,” Matt said. The poor RA had enough to deal with. Some of the student really weren’t used to certain aspects of communal living. Like shared bathrooms. “What movie are we watching?”

“Alien franchise,” Foggy said. “You seen any of them before?”

“No, Dad thought it was too scary for me,” Matt said.

“And I’m guessing the nuns weren’t fans?”

Matt shrugged. “Maybe? I think they were more worried about the littles seeing it and having nightmares.”

“That’s fair,” Foggy said, plating some pizza. “I think Candy kept us awake for a week the first time she saw The Thing.”

“How old was she?”

“Six? She was supposed to be asleep. Only learned she had woke up and came into the living room when she screamed. Took ten years off of my life.”

“I hope not,” Matt said. “I like having you around.”

“Awww,” Foggy said. Matt could tell he was smiling. “Me too buddy.”

None of the films had audio description but Foggy was getting pretty good at providing one. And his added commentary was very entertaining. They’d probably stay up way too late but Matt couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be than right here in this pillow fort, eating pizza and listening to Foggy grumble about how no one listens to Ripley.

Author’s Note

All but Alien (1979) of the franchise seems currently has audio description but for the purpose of this story, let’s say that it wasn’t added until after this sleepover.

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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "I'm not good enough.” 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

I'm Not Good Enough🌧️

this movie was fucking ADORABLE i love it so much

Ship: Charlie Denton x gn!Reader

Rating: 13+

Wordcount: 994

Warnings: angst, alcohol, self-doubt, anxiety

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

Chilled beer flowed past your lips as you drank from the green bottle. The fizz tickled at the back of your nose, bitter and biting, before gliding down your throat. Condensation clung to the glass and wetted your palms.

The digital clock on the end table to your left read "10:23pm," almost half an hour since Max had gone to bed. He would undoubtedly still be awake. That little trouble maker was always working on Atom, reading a booklet on robot boxing, or sketching away at his next big project. His mind never seemed to stop swirling inside his 10-year-old head.

You supposed he got that whirlwind of a brain from his father. Charlie was always two steps away from a nervous breakdown. Anxiety riddled his tired mind on an hourly basis. He'd constantly look to you for reassurance, whether it was about his parenting, his career, or simply how he treated you as a partner.

He sat to your right on the brown leather couch. Twin bottle of beer to your own clutched in his hand, body practically melted into the sofa, head resting back on the cushions with his eyes firmly shut. Wrinkles cracked his tanned skin in the corners of his eyes and the space between his furrowed brows.

"Doing okay?" you asked as quietly as you could, scared to break the uneasy silence that had settled ever since Max was sent to bed. The air in the cluttered living room was heavy with an unidentifiable unease.

Charlie shrugged as his hazel eyes fell open, "Usual bullshit. Don't worry 'bout me."

You sighed as you set your beer on the end table. An array of rings were stained into the light wood from countless nights spent drinking on the couch. Leather creaked under the weight of you shifting to face Charlie.

"I'm always worried about you, hon. What's going on?" you insisted with a gentle prod against his shoulder. He grunted at the poke, lazily swatting your hand away.

"Don't wanna bother you. Forget it," he muttered. Further worry lines creased along his face as he took a long drag from his beer bottle. His Adam's apple bobbed with each thick swallow.

A sigh blew from your pursed lips in a thin stream. Dating someone as anxiety-ridden as Charlie had its challenges. You tried your best to navigate through the raging tempest inside his mind, course-correcting his lost ship along the choppy waves, keeping him from sinking to the ocean floor.

Some days were easier than others. That metric ton of stress that weighed on his mind seemed to lighten, his smile wider, more energy spilling from his bright, hazel eyes. He'd be more willing to practice with Atom on the robot's boxing combinations or to guide Max through verbal commands.

Today was not one of those days.

"How about you tell me the first thought that pops in your head and we leave it at that?" you offered with a kind smile. Seeing your partner like this drove a grief-lined spear through your heart every time. Forced to watch as this extraordinary man folded in on himself, reduced to barely half of his size, as he wallowed in his racing heart and clouded brain.

Charlie considered your proposition for a few moments. He tilted his head back and forth, stretching the tense muscles lining his broad neck.

"Alright," he finally said. You sat up straighter amongst the couch cushions. Focus fully fixed on the man beside you, chin resting in your palm and eyes passing between each of his. He sighed, clearly uncomfortable with your undivided attention, then mumbled, "I feel like I'm not good enough. For Max... And for you."

You kept your expression neutral as his words slammed into your stomach like a sack of bricks. Swallowing the lump that'd gathered in your throat, you said, "What makes you think that?"

"I'm always like this. Always caught up in my own head, not giving both of you the attention that you need. That you deserve," Charlie nearly rambled, voice barely above a whisper. The words tumbled from him like stones dipped in sorrow.

"Both Max and I know that you have your quirks," you began in a joking manner, attempting to lighten the dreary mood, "No one's perfect, Charlie. No one expects you to be at 110% every single day. You're not one of our robots, you're a human. And a great father, at that. I see the way Max looks at you. That kid loves you so damn much. He's a smart kid, he understands what you're going through. Guess what? Doesn't make him love you any less."

The brief speech seemed to settle on Charlie's shoulders like thick snow. His breath shuddered, lower lip quivering, as he screwed his eyes shut, "Do you mean that?"

"Of course I do, hon. We both love you," you said softly while running a hand through his buzzed hair. The short strands tickled at the skin between your fingers.

He threw you off kilter as large arms enveloped you in a tight embrace. His pointed nose buried in your hair, beer long forgotten on the floor, arms squeezing you so tight you couldn't even dream of escaping. Not that you wanted to.

You were quick to return the hug, hands locking behind Charlie's back. Gentle hums leaked from your closed lips as you rested your chin on his shoulder. A little off-key, not quite matching the song you and Charlie had claimed as your own, but it comforted him nonetheless. He settled in your arms like a deflated balloon.

Anxiety is not an easy thing to deal with. It wracks one's mind with endless worry and near-paranoia at times. Makes one's heart race, their skin itching like it's on fire, stomach tying itself in knots. One day you'd get Charlie to see a therapist. Until then, you'd continue plotting his course through the hurricane and into your open arms.

screaming crying throwing up etc.

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

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: FALLING ASLEEP IN A HOSPITAL ROOM🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

I had plans to doodle a Tuna-Tober Prompt every day of October, but life kinda got in the way and I’ve been really busy. So I’ve only managed Day 1 - Falling Asleep in A Hospital Room so far! I used that yummy photo of Matt falling asleep in his apartment bare-chested for reference, but added a disheveled suit because he’s been sitting beside Reader’s hospital bedside for a long time, bless him! It’s very rough and scribbly, and his anatomy isn’t perfect. 

Traditional art. A4. 4B pencil. Photo ref -

Uncropped version -