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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Playing with their hair🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

Fingertips

Pairing - Michael Kinsella x fem!reader Tuna Tober Prompt - Day 25 - Playing with their Hair Summary - you discover that Mikey loves it when you play with his beard.

Author's Notes - Just a quickie. Hasn't had much editing so might be a tad wordy and have the odd mistake!

“That feels so good, pet…so fuckin’ good…don’t ya stop…please don’t stop.”

Usually, when Michael Kinsella was nestled between your thighs, it was you whimpering the majority of those words. You, groaning, moaning, begging those words, as he buried himself in your heat like a man possessed. He was normally facing you too. Not zoning out staring up at the ceiling, like he was doing now, heavy eyes closing gratefully.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you softly reassured him. “I’ll do it for as long as you like. Until you want me to stop.”

“Never gonna want ya to stop,” he warned, letting out a little gasp of pleasure when you tugged fractionally harder.

You bit back an affectionate grin. “Not even for dinner? I'm making your favourite tonight.”

“Ah, ya so good. So good to me,” he sighed placidly. “Don’t know what I did to deserve ya, pet.”

Your fingertips immediately stilled. You had lost count of the number of times he had declared himself unworthy of your love. Not only verbally. You would often see it in his face, in the tightening of his handsome features, or feel it palpably in the air.

“Now what have I told you about saying things like that?” 

He let out a playful little whine, peering up at you imploringly from those beautiful, soulful, puppy-dog eyes. You tried to remain unimpressed as you frowned down at him, but it was hard when he looked so damn cute.

"Darlin'...c'mon...please...I need those magic fingertips..."

Finally admitting defeat with a click of your tongue (but laughter in your eyes), your fingers resumed their lazy circling and you felt the twitch of his smug smile as his eyes closed again.

You had discovered Mikey's adorable little quirk a few weeks ago. Something surprisingly and delightfully innocent. That could reduce the notorious Michael Kinsella to putty in your hands within seconds. Have him purring for a very different reason while down south.

He had returned home, angry and irritable, after a long unproductive day with Jimmy and Amanda, but rather than flop down beside you on the sofa and pull you close, like he usually did, he had lowered himself to the floor, scooted between your legs, and rested the side of his head against your knee. The action had been so submissive, so stoical, so very bone-weary, that it had taken you aback as much as it had made your chest tighten. Your hands had instinctively swept forward to cradle his head in your arms, urging him back against the warmth and softness of your parted thighs. 

As much as you had wanted him to turn around and pleasure you, you'd been overwhelmed with a greater desire to comfort him instead. Give him some form of pleasure that wasn’t necessarily sexual. You loved it when he drowsily tickled your back after sex. It made you tingle and bliss out, but didn’t turn you on. It was about affection and closeness. You wanted him to feel that too.

And that’s when it happened. When your fingers had idly trailed into the soft coarseness of his beard.  

His mouth had dropped limply open, expelling his frustrations in a long drawn out sigh. It was almost as if your touch had activated a pressure release valve inside him. You had watched his slackening features in surprise. While you did run your fingers through his beard during love making, it was always fleeting, the two of you far too preoccupied with more carnal activities.

Spurred on by his reactions, you lightly cupped his face and continued your tentative exploration, biting your lip hesitantly.

"You like that?"

“Aye…” he had breathed encouragingly. “Aye, love…”

As he had relaxed deeper into your touch, you had settled back against the sofa cushions, closing your own tired eyes, your hands lovingly caressing his beard, teasing the hairs, dragging them languidly through your fingers, pulling ever so slightly, enjoying their pleasant coarseness against your skin. The fact that they were slightly more bristly than the hairs on his head made it all the more pleasurable somehow. The grooves between your fingers were particularly sensitive to the sensation. And going by Michael’s clipped whimpers as you lightly raked your nails along his jawline and swirled patterns through the thicker hair there, he was loving every second of it too.

It became a daily ritual. The first thing you did to unwind at the end of a long tedious day. You were usually home before Mikey, so would wait patiently for him on the sofa, reading a book and sipping at your tea until you heard his key turn in the lock. He’d walk into the room with that harried look on his face and you’d immediately stop what you were doing and gesture for him to sit on the comfy pillow at your feet.

“Love ya, pet,” he murmured, promptly returning you to the present as he clasped your hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing it tenderly. “Want ya to still be doin’ this when I’m old an’ grey.”

Praying that you would see him live to be an endearingly grumpy old man, that he would finally break free from his destructive family, you leaned down and returned a kiss to his forehead. “Love you too, Mikey.” A mischievous smile shivered across your lips. “Though do you think you’ll be able to get down on the floor when you’re old and grey?" You ribbed lightly. "You might have bad knees, you know.”

“Not me,” he threw back amused, and it gave you so much joy - and relief - to see him calm and unruffled again. “I’ll make sure to keep m’self limber ‘specially for it.” He met your gaze wickedly, suddenly reviving. “An’ other things.”

“Other things?” You feigned innocence as you grazed through his beard a little more zealously, his heated eyes igniting a fire inside you. You gave him a coy look. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean?"

His deep chuckle vibrated up through your fingers, sending a delicious shiver running along your spine. “Then get ya straight up those stairs an’ I’ll show ya exactly what I mean.” 

He turned slowly, predatory, no longer putty beneath your fingertips, and your heart skipped a beat. "I'm givin' ya a ten second start..."

Squealing your excitement, you scrambled from the sofa, and bolted for the bedroom.

************

Tuna-Tober Prompt Challenge 2024

************

Tuna-tober Day 7

Prompt: Nightmare

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader

Word Count: 468

At first, you're unsure what woke you up. The room is still dark and cold. The latter of which you combat by burrowing deeper into your blankets. You're just prepared to drift back off when you hear it. 

A whimper followed by shuffling of the sheets. 

You immediately roll over and face Michael, who is fast asleep next to you, and the events of the night come slamming back to you. 

You're not home, in your own bed. You're at Michael's, sleeping over for the first time. And if the noises coming out of him are any indicator, he's having a nightmare. 

“Oh, Michael…” You whisper. You want to reach over and touch him, shake him from his dream. But you know that can be dangerous and you don't want to put either of you in a bad situation. So you gently call out to him. 

“Michael…come on, sweetheart, wake up. It's just a dream.”

His face scrunches up and he rolls over to face you but he doesn't wake. 

“Michael. Michael, sweetheart, wake up. I'm right here. You're only dreaming.” You long to reach out and cup his face, smooth the worry lines on his face, but again you decide not to risk it.

It takes a few more tries but eventually Michael's eyes snap open. You can tell he's disoriented at first so you continue to softly talk to him.

“Hey, hey. It's okay. It was just a dream. You're here with me. You're safe.” You tell him.

He rasps out your name and you finally reach for him. Gently you take his face in your hands, doing your best to soothe him.

“Yeah, Micheal, it's me. I'm here.” You coo softly. His eyes flutter close and he leans into your hands. For several moments it's quiet.

“Are you okay?” You ask him quietly. 

“Yea.” He says thickly. “Jus a bad dream. Tha's all.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your question comes out gentle. You only want him to talk if he wants to. You definitely don't want to push him. So you're not disappointed when he shakes his head no.

“No. No, I- I would ratha go back ta sleep.”

“Okay, Mikey.” You gently rub your thumbs over his cheeks before withdrawing your hands. He shudders at the loss of contact.

“Can I hold ya? Jus til we go back ta sleep.”

“You can hold me as long as you like.” You tell him. He immediately pulls you in, letting you roll over so your body can slot up against his. 

With the two of you snug in bed, you both eventually drift back off. With you in his arms, Michael spends the rest of the night with pleasant dreams. 

And when he wakes in the morning, he's forgotten all about his nightmare.

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

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

dreams unwind, love's a state of mind

a/n: i am posting the prompts i'm doing for challenges a bit late cause i haven't been here. but this is my first ever days of future past logan fic and i am nervous! i originally planned to do it in the 70s but then an even angstier idea hit me. and honestly i'm kind of in love with how it turned out. this isn't as much smut as i intended, but who cares. enjoy!

tuna-tober 2024: day eleven - tears + "i'd be lost without you." + breast worship

summary: they told him to change the future, to right the wrongs that the world caused. but he didn't do it for them. he did it for the chance to see his lover one more time. even if he shared a different history than them.

word count: 2.1k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MDNI 18+ ONLY!! angst, fluff, reuniting, tears, grief, logan has ptsd, mention of death, love, breast worship, body worship, biting, dry humping, they almost get it on in an empty classroom.

He never felt his heart beat this fast. A rapid thud, thud, thud against his ribs as he took long strides through the halls. His eyes scanned each corner and passing student for the sight of someone familiar. Logan didn't have any worries that you would be unrecognizable. He didn't worry that you were different.

His soul would know you from miles away—the connection that tied you to him stronger than his will to survive.

No matter what Charles told him. He didn't go back for him or Jean or Storm. He didn't fight to change history just to get a chance to save his family. That remained only part of the reason. Logan survived—he clawed his way through the past—for one sole purpose. He would finally get a second chance; he'd get to see you smile again, hear you laugh, feel your lips against his.

Going through hell became worth it if it meant getting the opportunity to have you in his arms.

Students pushed past him on their way to lunch. Several greeted him with a term he would have to grow accustomed to—professor—others tossing him a warm hello before they scurried by. He seemed to have a solidified life here. The promise of peace in a world that once ripped him in two. He wasn't just the Wolverine in these hallowed halls.

He was Logan Howlett too.

"Baby!" he called, running down the empty hallway towards the set of classrooms. "Princess are you here?"

Charles directed him in his mind, pushing images of moments he couldn't recall to the front of his mind. Smiles hidden in secret during meetings packed in a too small office. Touches that you hoped went unnoticed through training sessions and meals in the dining room. Jokes about the two professors who snuck into each other's rooms at night for months on end, long before they finally decided to move in together.

Time he'd never get back. Memories that never belonged to him in the first place.

Would you like this version of him? The Logan that had seen far worse, who endured a war, who held your dying body in his arms as a battle went on behind him. Would you love the scars that ran just a bit deeper? The pain that lingered for far longer than you deserved.

Fear gripped his heart at the thought of anything other than your love. He wouldn't survive a life spent without you. He went through that once and every day felt as if his soul was being torn from his body. Each gruesome wake up to move places and fight for mutants who may never make it out alive, became lifeless—colorless—because you weren't there.

"C'mon baby," he muttered, turning in a circle, his chest heaving with gasped breaths. The air seemed to be stripped clean of your scent, no mark of your existence filled the mansion as it once did.

He felt his body seize—the familiar numbing ache trickling down through his body.

No reason to live resided in his heart if you weren't here to spend it with him.

"Princess!" he practically shouted, his voice reverberating off the walls. "Fuck. You gotta be here. You gotta–"

"Logan?"

The soft lilt of your voice forming his name on your lips punched him in the chest, effectively stealing whatever breath he clung to. He whirled around, eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears, as you popped out of the classroom door behind him. He'd never seen such beauty until today. A wash of relief flooded his body, the weight on his shoulders landing on the floor with a heavy thud.

He drank in the sight of you with a smile. The curve of your hips in a too tight black and white pinstripe pencil skirt, the way your white button down rolled at the sleeves hugged your breasts—the black lace bra faintly evident against the sunlight that streamed through the windows. He devoured you with his gaze alone. Yet the hunger still persisted. It ate at his heart, begged him to move, to gather you in his arms.

But for the life of him...he was unable to gain control of his limbs.

They were stuck. Frozen against time as you moved a bit closer, your black heels clicking on the hardwood floors.

You looked exactly the same. Though some differences lay in the style of your hair, the red lips painted deep and enticing, the glasses tucked into the front of your shirt, Logan felt as if you were ripped right from his memories.

His girl. His princess.

"Baby," he murmured, doing what he could to catch his breath.

Your eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed as you regarded him with a flash of concern. "Is everything okay? Charles let me know you were looking for me."

The mention of the man's name forced him to finally move. What little of Charles still lingered in the back of his mind quickly retreated—the mission to find you now complete. This was his way of giving the both of you some privacy. A chance to reconcile with the woman he thought he'd never see again. Logan thanked him silently, promising to speak after all was said and done—after he got a chance to hold you for the first time in nearly a decade.

"You're here," he sighed, his feet moving faster than either of you expected.

"Of course I'm here. I had a class to teach. Quantum mechanics, well actually more a study of molecular physics today. I thought I let you know at breakfast–" His hands gripped your waist roughly, pushing you back into your empty classroom with a growl. "Logan!"

His foot shut the door, hand blindly fumbling for the lock, as he dragged you against his body with his other arm. An explanation would be given later in the dark confines of your shared bedroom. He'd explain it all to you, every gruesome and grave detail. All the questions he knew swirled inside your head—ever the curious woman he fell hopelessly in love with.

But right now he'd have you on the nearest desk (preferably yours). In this fleeting moment he would reclaim what was so brutally taken from him; the love he felt now pouring out from every part of his body. Beating in tune with his erratic heart.

"What are you doing?" you gasped, hands pressed against his chest to steady yourself. "Is everything okay? Are you hurt?"

His stomach fluttered, the sensation of being on cloud nine now a reality the longer he looked at your pretty form. Hands quickly roamed his shoulders and arms as you checked for any injuries that might appear at a moment's notice. Nevermind that he healed quicker than any other mutant in this school. Nevermind that he stared at you with an expression that could only be described as awestruck.

You still did what you felt was necessary to ease the growing worry in the back of your mind.

"'M more than okay baby." The low rasp of his voice forced your gaze up to his within seconds. A soft oh echoing in the empty room.

No explanation was needed when he looked at you with pupils that devoured the hazel of his iris. You knew what he wanted—could feel the desperation in his tight grip. The thickening sweetness of your scent curled around his senses like a drug, filling his body with a need that permeated the air.

"I missed you," he breathed. "So much."

Logan wished there was a way to convey how much anguish his heart went through in the years after your death. The nights spent yearning for your touch. The memory of you passing onto a plane he couldn't follow burned onto the back of his eyelids. He couldn't escape what happened.

Death was an easy option for him. A choice he would have made in the blink of an eye. But the laws of his own being were unable to be severed. He'd never be able to join you—forever stuck in a world without your light.

He longed to tell you all of it, but feared he might fuck it up.

"You saw me a few hours ago," you grinned.

"God I wish that were true."

Your mouth parted, eyes overflowing with worry, and Logan could no longer fathom a moment without your kiss. Dipping down swiftly he slotted his lips against yours with a groan. His hands gripping any plush part of your body he could reach. Unable to stick to one spot because there was so much of you he missed. The feel of your ass in his hands as he gripped you close, how you blissfully sighed into his mouth, relenting to his hold.

Kissing you felt as if he gained back all the years he missed out on. The time he thought was unsalvageable.

The feel of your tongue pressing against his drove him over to the edge of madness. A feral moan coated in a gravel hoarseness ripped from his throat, his fingers squeezing your body to drag you even closer. He sucked on your bottom lip, licked into your mouth with whimpered broken sounds, and refused to stop even when you pulled back for air.

"W-We're in a classroom Logan," you gasped, high-pitched and layered in a neediness that matched his own.

"I don't fuckin' care."

"I don't want to get caught–"

Sucking your tongue into his mouth with a grunt, he began to walk until the back of your thighs hit the grand desk you sat at. The plaque of your name now lay with a pile of papers that landed on the floor. He groped your breasts, tugging the buttons until they popped free—scattering across the room with soft pings.

"My shirt!"

He grinned. "I'll help ya find them later, princess."

"You're not fucking me here. We have a room for a reason." The words were accompanied by a moan, your head tipping back to give him the expanse of your neck.

Space he happily began to sink his teeth into. He sucked at your skin as he pulled at your bra, his thumbs running across peaked nipples that practically begged for his attention. An act he was more than happy to partake in. With a grunt, he sucked one into his mouth, spit smearing into your soft skin with the promise of making a mess wherever he could.

"F-Fuck," you panted, fingers ripping at his hair as your hips canted up into his. "What's gotten into you baby?"

He answered with a deep grind of his hips into yours, the sticky precum practically drowning his cock in the confines of his jeans. Self control wasn't his strongest ability at this very moment. Not when he could feel the heat of your cunt call his name. He'd be surprised if he lasted long enough to sink into you—to finally indulge in the warmth of your body.

Teeth dug into the side of your breast, his hands tugging your cunt along his jeans as tears pricked his eyes. Losing you wasn't the worst part of all of this. Not being able to remember the last time he felt you this way—the final day of joy in your relationship before it happened—would forever haunt him. A memory he should have solidified in the back of his mind slipped free before his very eyes.

How did you smile at him? Was it a stolen moment by firelight? Were you smiling just to appease his growing anxiety about losing you? Or did you feel a flicker of joy?

For the life of him...he couldn't bring that moment to mind.

"Logan?" Your hands tugged his head back, thumbs wiping away tears he didn't know started to fall. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

He grinned, broken and marred and bleeding all the love his weary body could muster. "I'd be lost with you."

You paused, disbelief shrouding your features. "What are you talking about baby? Did something happen?"

The time to reveal it all would be now, but how could he move past this? Your breasts were free and coated in his spit, your eyes were darkened with wanton lust. To him you would never look more beautiful. Entirely disheveled, yet still willing to help him by any means necessary.

You would always be—and forever remain—the other half to his scarred soul.

"I'll tell you later," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your wrist. "I'll tell you everything."

"But–"

He shook his head. "Lemme have this. Okay? I need this."

A discerning smile crossed your lips as he leaned in for another kiss, his body pressing you down until your back hit the desk. This certainly wasn't how he envisioned your reunion happening. A quickie in the confines of an empty classroom that you'd eventually teach in a few hours later. But Logan couldn't fathom waiting. He'd spent years pining after a soul that might never walk the same ground as him.

A brief moment of bliss. A short forever in the allotted time.

This was something he could steal for himself.

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

THE BOSS

Hello, as I promise this is my Day 1 (Falling Asleep In A Hospital Room) from Tuna-Tober prompts, I’ll try to keep up with all the prompts! If anyone have an idea they would like to see they can send me an ask, in the mean time I hope you like this and I’m sorry about the grammars mistake, lots of loves!

——————

When you got the news that you got the job you apply you were excited, you were going to work for one of the most intelligent men in the world, but he was different of what you imagined, he always was on his office or in his secret room, the only time you saw him was on the night, when you share some food together and most of the time he get drunk and making you help him to get in to his room. You tried to be nice or have at least one conversation with him but he always pretend that you weren’t there.One morning you were in the kitchen minding on your own business, you were looking at some numbers when you heard someone getting in to the kitchen.

-Nathan.

-Yn- you were a little surprise to heard him saying your name -you looked surprise.

-Well I wasn’t sure that you knew my name.

-I hire you of course I know your name.

-You’re wrong, the board of your company hired me, you just following orders…

-What? Who told you that?- he asked.

-You- he look at you confuse -it was my second day here, you told me that I should leave because you didn’t want me here, that you only tolerate me, because the board make you do it.

-And why did you staid- he asked making you shrugged.

-I need it the money, and it’s going to look good on my curriculum.

-I like to say that I’m sorry…

-But you’ll be lying right?- you asked.

-In that moment yes, but if im honest, I like to see you’re pretty face around- he said and you felt the heat appearing in your face -uh, you look more cute when you blush- he winked at you.

You thought that would be the last interaction with him but suddenly he start to show up more around the house, sometimes he have dinner or lunch with you, you were starting to get used to him, he also chance his actitud with you, he start to open more about his past and his feeling.

-So?- he asked you one night when you were watching a horror movie alone, when he talked you couldn’t help but jump.

-fuck Nathan, you almost gave a heart attack- you said trying to calm yourself as you paused the movie.

-So?- he repeated the question.

-So what?- you asked.

-Where do you get this weird taste to watch horror movies by yourself?

-My dad, he like this kind of thing and when he thought I was ready to watched them we used to spend hours in front of the television watching them, and on halloween we spend the night always do a marathon and spend the night eating a lot of candies and popcorns.

-That sounds…. Healthy- he said making you roll your eyes.

So?- you asked this time

-So what?- He asked.

-where do you get your love for the technology?

-my mom, she was amazing, she went to MIT, top of her class, everyone said she had a great future above her- he said with a soft smile.

-Did she?- you asked, he shook his head.

-She met my father- you notice how his smile fade away- At first everything was like a fairy tale or at least that’s what she said, they go out together, they used to joke, they used to dance… they were happy, but something happened, they get married, he make her quit college, he start to chances, he was angry most part of the time, he never hit her but I knew she start to be afraid of him- you took his hand -If you think he was an awful husband, he was worst as a father.

-I’m sorry- you said.

-You didn’t do anything- he said, you didn’t care and you hug him, before you new it, you were kissing, his hand was rubbing your cheek making you blush -I’m sorry I usually don’t do this until a date is done.

-Then I own you a date- he said with a smirk making you giggle -anyway I came here to tell you that we’ll have a guest.

-Is he going to test Ava?- he look at you surprised -come on Nathan I live here I know what’s happening, beside I can see your mail remember? You send yourself notes.

-oh so you’re not just smart, you’re also noisy- he said making your eyes rolled.

The days pass by, Caleb was excited with Ava, he spends hours talking to Ava always supervised by Nathan, you notices there was something odd in Nathan’s attitude but he became distance and the same angry man he was when you start to work for him, he even start to drink more than he usually did. One night you were working on the living room when Nathan came in and he sat in front of you.

-I need you to leave- he said.

-What? are you going to give me some vacations?- you asked smiling, but his face didn’t change, he looks down -Nathan?

-I’m firing you, Yn- he said looking at you.

-What? But Nathan I thought that…

-That what? That we have a connection? That’s something stupid people say to get laid or have something in return, you were just here for a job you need to do and now that Ava is finish I don’t need you.

-You can’t be serious

-Yes I am, the helicopter comes in three hours, so you better pack your stuff, the mail from the company should be on your email now.

You were in shock for a few seconds, even when you were packing your things you still were confuse about what happened. It was until the helicopter landed that something click in your head, he can’t fired you like that, he can’t just told you that without an explanation, so before you knew it you were heading back to the house ready to tell Nathan everything you think, but what you saw will be print in your mind forever, you saw Ava stabbed Nathan in the stomach you took a piece of metal from the floor and hit Ava.

-Nathan- you said as you kneel beside him -It’s ok, you’ll be ok- you said as you try to call the pilot.

-Yn…

After that everything was a little blurry, you couldn’t remember how you got in to the hospital or how long you wait until a doctor told you that he was out of surgery, you didn’t knew when you fall asleep, you just feel someone playing with your hair.

-You weren’t supposed to be there

-You’re welcome for saving your life- you said.

-I mean it, you could be hurt or it could killed you- he said.

-that’s why you said all those things?- he didn’t answer -I don’t really now what I stay here… I’m sorry for staying I hope you have a good life Nathan.

-why did you decline the job offer on the university? - he asked you.

-How did you…

-It was a good thing, a good salary, your own department and laboratory… if you do it because I like you, this was good for you Yn…

-You like me?- you giggled a little -you have a funny way to show it up, you know.

-Yn this is serious.

-So am I, I didn’t reject it because I like you, I didn’t picture my self giving lectures, the only thing I like on that offer was the experiment part.

-You could told me that.

-Well you never asked, beside I didn’t thought it was important, I wasn’t going to take the job and if I’m honest I forgot about it- you said -beside why do you care?

-I…- he got silence for a moment -I thought I was taking from you a great opportunity, that if you didn’t go you’ll end up hating me for it.

-So you take a decision? But it was my decision not yours…

-I’m sorry, I make a mistake- you giggled.

-That’s something I never thought I heard you said- you said making him smile -how are you feeling?

-It hurts a little…

-Let me go found a nurse.

-No, just stay with me, please- he said, you sit on the edge of the bed -I was worry about you, when I saw you on that hall, I panicked, the only thing I thought was you getting hurt or worst and that I won’t have anything good in my life- he said as he cupped your cheek.

-Fuck Nathan I hate how good you are talking.

-Yn- he said looking at your eyes -would you be on a date with me.

-Yes, I like that, just promise me something.

-What ever you said.

-Please don’t take me anywhere near a robot- both of you laughed.

Xxxxx

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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: BROKEN + "I feel real when I'm with you." 🐟✨

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"You’re who I want." (Michael Kinsella x F!Reader)

Time for Day 3 of the Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! For Day Three, I chose to combine the fluff and angst prompts ("I feel real when I'm with you" and 'Broken'), and I also decided to try my hand at one of Charlie Cox's other characters for once, that being our favorite sad, tragic, sweetheart of a mobster Michael Kinsella! 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: 2k

Warnings for this chapter, let's do this: mentions of blood, kiss at the end, angst (but with a happy ending obvs)

It was Birdy that called you right as you were getting ready to settle in for the night, the heavy downpour a drumbeat against your windows that you’d hoped would lull you to sleep. But that wasn’t in your cards tonight, it seemed. 

“He’s headed yer way. Things… didn’t go well tonight.” 

Not for the first time, you quietly cursed the way the Kinsellas had dragged Michael back into their business as you dug out the first aid kit, setting it beside a change of clothes and a few clean towels to help Michael dry off when he arrived. You didn’t care what the Kinsellas got up to on their own time, who they sold to and what their business was. What you cared about was whether Michael had wanted this. But he was a loyal man, endlessly devoted to family, something Amanda was all too happy to take advantage of. 

You had thoughts on that, too, but that would also have to wait. 

 “We lost a few o’ ours. He managed ta turn it around at the last second, but… Well, the family argued after. Things were said ta him, and…”

Some nights, though, you wondered just how long Michael had left before he broke beneath that weight—the weight of expectation and a grim responsibility he shouldered without complaint, even as he began to crumble beneath it. In the two years since you’d met this beautiful, quiet man in that small coffee shop, you’d watched those brittle cracks form. Over time, as he gradually began to let you in, you’d discovered the far deeper fissures that lay buried beneath. Your lack of fear, your absence of judgement over what he’d done, had only opened that door further, until he began to seek you out as you did him. Time passed, and your orbits were brought closer and closer together, spiraling planets caught inevitably in the pull of each other’s gravity.   

Neither of you had named what this was. But if he could find comfort here, safety here, then you’d happily give it. 

 “Just… be gentle with him, dear.” 

Somehow, even the knock at your door sounded exhausted. You hurried out of the kitchen where you’d been filling up the kettle—you’d learned very quickly how important it was to have it ready at all hours when you’d moved to Ireland—and headed down the hall to the front door. You unlocked the door and tugged it open, letting in the roaring sound of the rain and a gust of chilled wind. 

“Oh, Michael,” you whispered. 

He was soaked to the bone, dark hair plastered down against his skin as he leaned tiredly against the doorframe, his body wracked with shivers from the cold. What was worse: even with the rain, you could still see traces of blood on his shirt and hands, more of it leaking steadily from a split on his lip. Fortunately, only the blood on his mouth seemed to belong to him. He tried to throw you a small smile, but it was far too crooked, too brittle to be real, and you had a feeling his eyes weren’t red because of the rain. The moment he seemed to realize you didn’t buy it, that shield fell away, and you were left with just Michael at his most exposed, empty and exhausted. 

“That bad, eh?” he asked tiredly, trying for humor and missing by miles.

“Shit, get in here before you freeze.” You caught his arm and tugged him forward until you could quickly shut the door behind him. He didn’t fight you on it physically, for which you were grateful, but he couldn’t seem to resist at least a little verbal stubbornness. 

“I’m gettin’ yer floors all wet,” he said. Without the need to pretend, his tone had gone empty and lifeless, stripped of all energy, as if he’d used up what little he had left on the walk over. He dropped his head, staring down at the growing puddle on the floor, his face twisting through something unreadable. “‘M sorry, pet. I shouldn’t have—”

“Floors can be dried, Mikey.” You waved the objection away, locking the door before turning back to Michael where he was standing shivering in the hall as if he were reluctant to take up any further space, as if he feared he were unwelcome. And something about it, about the way he seemed to barely be holding himself together, just… broke your heart. “Come here.”

He shivered again, even as he shook his head, arms wrapped around himself. You could almost see him changing his mind, a wave of regret rearing up inside him, flashing in the dark of his eyes, eyes still looking too damp for just the rain. “I’ll… I’ll get blood on ya.” “I don’t care.”

He clenched his jaw, still refusing to look at you. Some of the blood on him had joined the puddle of rainwater at his feet, the pale tile darkening to a rusty pink. “No, I-I shoulda stopped ‘a home first, cleaned up. And it’s late, yer clearly dressed for bed. We can talk another time—”

You crossed the distance between you both before he could take a single step towards the door. He went stiff the moment you pulled him into you, but you let him work through it as you wound your arms tightly around him, hooking the fingers of one hand in his belt loops, making it clear you weren’t going anywhere. You used the other hand to stroke gently down his back, heedless of the water and blood that began to dampen your clothes, breathing in the scent of whiskey and leather, of gun oil and rain and blood. “Stop worrying about my clothes or the floors, you silly man,” you said softly, setting your chin on his shoulder as his breath hitched. “I don’t care about those. I care about you, Michael. No matter what happens, that won’t change. I’ll stand here all night with you if I have to.”

He choked out a shaking breath against your hair, and you could feel it the moment he began to break, his hands tentatively finding their way around your waist, as if he were still half-convinced it would be rejected. Something far warmer than rain dripped against your neck. “Why?” he whispered. “I don’t understand. I have nothin’ ta give ya. Ta give anyone. I keep tryin’ to be what everyone needs, but I can’t even do tha’ right. Why do ya keep openin’ the door for a broken man, pet?”

“You might be hurt, but you’re far from broken,” you murmured, turning your head to lay it on his shoulder as his hold gradually tightened around you, his hands beginning to fist in the fabric of your shirt. Another shaky breath from him, more of his tears falling against your throat as he finally let his head fall to your neck, accepting what you’d offered. “I let you in because I just need you. You’re who I want. So you can let go, Mikey. There’s nothing here you need to fix, no one else you need to be.” 

That was all it took, and between one breath and the next, he crumbled in your arms, the entire terrible night, terrible year, terrible life tearing its way out of him in choked sobs. You held him as tightly as you could, soft, soothing whispers in his ears, your hands running gently down his back and through his hair as he let go of every last wall he’d put up between him and the outside world. 

It took time for that wave of emotion to ease, time you spent with your head on his shoulder, with your chest to his, until eventually the shaking of his body began to slow, his breath easing against your throat. Only then did you guide him to the bathroom, taking the time to clean him up. He accepted the care silently, his eyes half closed, his form slumped and exhausted, drained after the emotional release. You knew better than to press before he was ready, so you let the quiet have its place, though every now and then you’d lift his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

You left him alone just long enough for him to change. You were glad he now kept a few changes of clothes here. It was another unspoken intimacy between you both, the knowledge that this place was a retreat for him just as his home sometimes was for you, even if neither of you had said as much. Once he was changed, you tipped your head before heading towards the bedroom. He hesitated, just for a moment, and you paused in the doorway, waiting.

It wasn’t every time he came here that you both wound up curled up together. Just on those bad nights, those nights when one of you needed each other’s presence to act as a shield against nightmares, against grief or hurt. Until now, however, it had always taken place on the couch, the two of you dozing off together under the excuse that you’d never intended to fall asleep at all. Tonight, however, you just… thought he deserved a bed. That you and he had never taken this step before hung heavy between you, weighted and intimate. Neither of you had dared offer access to the other’s bed until now. Hell, you hadn’t even kissed yet, though there’d been… moments when you’d both come close, dancing along that edge. Somehow you knew there’d be no going back after this, no more pretending, even if no one had believed either of you before now when you’d both sworn you were simply friends.

And after a long moment… the soft padding of his footsteps began to follow. 

The bed came first, soft sheets and the gradually returning warmth of him, one of your arms draped over his waist as he buried his face in your hair, the two of you twined together so closely that there was no space at all between you. 

Then came his voice, the soft lilt of it soothing you as much as your touch seemed to be soothing him. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without ya’,” he sighed, his breath slowly easing. He nuzzled at you gently, and you tipped your head up to meet his eyes. The warmth in them took your breath away, filled with a tender light and a devotion so deep you knew you could spend the rest of your life searching for the end and never find it. “Every time I think I’ve lost who I am, yer’ there ta bring me back. I feel… I feel real when I’m with ya’. I…” 

His eyes searched yours for a moment before he seemed to make a decision. He dipped his head down slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. Instead, you tilted your head back, your hand sliding up to tangle in his hair as his lips met yours. 

The kiss was a soft, new thing, fragile as spun strands of glass. His lips still tasted a little of copper and whiskey, chapped from the cold night air, but his breath was warm, and his mouth moved against yours with a hesitance that swiftly gave way to confidence as you leaned into him, using your fingers in his hair to pull him in closer. His name on your lips was a sigh, a gift to him, one he breathed down as if he wanted to draw it down into the very heart of him. When he finally pulled away, he lay his forehead against yours, his eyes falling closed. You reached up to stroke your fingers warmly against his cheek, and he smiled, eyes crinkling, even if they stayed closed. “Wanted ta do that for a long time, now,” he admitted. “Not long after we met, if ’m honest.” “I may or may not have wanted the same thing,” you huffed softly, his smile growing. 

“Can I take ya ta breakfast tomorrow?”

You made a contented noise as you curled into him, and he wound around you, the two of you getting comfortable for the night. It felt… permanent, as if you two had simply been waiting to find your way here, this place you were both meant for. 

“I’d love that.”

And maybe tomorrow... you'd tell him you loved him, too.

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "Shh, I've got you now. I'm here." + Nightmare + Shaking🐟✨

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Day 6 - Ghosts

Prompts: 6 - “Shh, I've got you now. I'm here.” + 7 - Nightmare + 8 - Shaking Character: Frank Castle Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader Word Count: 547 Warning(s): Dream/flashback involving domestic violence, gendered insults, and implied sexual assault. Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist

Ghosts

You were hiding under the bed, heart pounding. He was here. You could smell him. You’d never forget that smell. Acrid smoke of menthol cigarettes, sour-sweet of stale beer, and cheap cologne. You could hear him. Stomping around the room, growling out your name. Looking for you. You prayed that he wouldn’t find you.

“I know you’re here, fucking slut . . . . lying whore . . . . You can’t hide from me!”

You fought the whimper that wanted to escape. You recognized that tone. You knew what it meant.

The footsteps stopped. You held your breath, barely daring to breathe. Had he - ? Then you screamed as a hand clamped around your ankle.

You couldn’t stop yourself from trying to kick at the hand on your ankle. Or from struggling against the hands pinning you down. You didn’t know why. It was stupid. Pointless. He was bigger than you. Stronger than you. Fighting just made the beating worse. Or got him excited. So that once you were lying broken on the floor, he’d . . . 

“Hey, hey . . . sweetheart . . . . sweetheart, it’s okay . . .”

Confusion began to penetrate through the panic. He never called you sweetheart. It was always doll. At least when he was pretending to be nice . . . and the voice didn’t sound right. Too deep, too much gravel for him. It sounded more like . . . 

“Sweetheart, it’s me, Frank . . .”

Frank. It was Frank. It was Frank’s hands wrapped around your wrists. Not trying to pin you down, just trying to stop you from hitting him. The grip firm but gentle. It was Frank looking down at you with big worried eyes . . .

Not him. He wasn’t here. He hadn’t found you. You were safe. Frank would protect you.

You collapsed against Frank in sheer relief. Almost didn’t notice him releasing your wrists in favor of wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight against his chest. Shaking, you inhaled deeply. Filling your nose with Frank’s scent. Old Spice, leather, gun oil, something smokey but not like cigarettes but something cleaner, like burning pine or apple wood chips . . .

Nothing like him.

“Shh, I've got you now. I'm here,” he murmured into your hair, rubbing your back. “You’re safe, sweetheart.”

You didn’t know how long it took for the tears to stop. You weren’t even sure when the tears had started. But, if Frank was bothered by how long it took for you to get ahold of yourself, he didn’t show it. Just keep rubbing your back and murmuring reassurances.

“Sorry,” you said.

“Why are you apologizin’?”

“Don’t know.” You said. It was just a habit, apologizing. You didn’t know why. It wasn’t like it had ever helped . . . you shuddered, firmly shoving those memories back into their box. And chained it shut.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” you said. You wanted those memories to stay in their box where they belonged. You wanted to be able to go to the grocery store without having a panic attack because a stranger looked or sounded or smelled like him. You wanted dreams free of fear and pain.

Frank didn’t argue. You didn’t expect him to. He knew what it was like to have ghosts. To be haunted by things that should have never happened.

What he did do was keep hugging you until you were ready to face the world again.

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "This isn't you." 🐟✨

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Tuna-Tober Day 4 - Bucky Barnes

pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x fem!Reader

prompt: "This isn't you."

word count: 1,127

content: dead dove, angst, gun use, main character death. There is no happy ending. Hurt, no comfort. Read at your own risk. You are responsible for your own media consumption.  

You stood in front of the lab hood that held a new piece of espionage tech that you had started working on a few months ago. It was in the final stages and just needed a few more adjustments before it was ready to be tested by Peggy. She was the only one you would trust to test the quality of your invention. Since you were recruited to work at SHIELD at its inception, you had worked on many projects alongside Howard Stark, but this one was one of the first that you worked on completely by yourself, and it was arguably your finest invention. 

Heading to grab your notebook off of your desk to jot down some more notes for Peggy to use once she was testing it, you heard a ruckus down the hall and what sounded like gunshots. Furrowing your eyebrows together, you started creeping toward the wall, but just as you did, a hand reached out and pulled your heel out from under you! 

You tumbled to the ground and grabbed for the small weapon hidden in your skirt’s pocket before realizing that the person who had pulled you down was Howard. “What did you do that for?!” you whisper-shouted at him as he held a finger to his mouth to hush you. 

“Whoever that is, is after you!” Howard told you in a hushed tone with wide eyes. 

“What do you mean after me? For what?” you asked, feeling your heart begin to pound in your chest. 

“I don’t know! Someone called my desk and all I could hear was the background of the call. Whoever it is was asking about where to find you!” he told you. Scrambling up onto unsteady feet, Howard started ushering you toward the back of the lab, saying, “We need to get you out of here! If we go out here and into the-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the main door to the lab burst open and revealed a man with overgrown hair and a black mask covering the lower half of his face. He wore what looked like old military tactical gear that had one sleeve ripped off to reveal a silver metal arm with a red star on it. And held in the hand of that silver arm was a gun that was pointed right at you. “Get outta the way!” Howard shouted while roughly pulling you out of the bullet’s path as the man pulled the trigger. “What do you want with her?” he asked sharply as he stood with an arm in front of you protectively. 

The man didn’t say anything, only made his way directly to your desk and grabbed your notebook off of the wooden surface. While he surveyed the desk’s contents though, a framed picture caught his eye and he hesitated as he brought the book closer to himself. You noticed this slight hesitation and furrowed your eyebrows, thinking to yourself, That was odd…

As the man in the mask looked up and made eye contact with you though, you realized why he hesitated. You knew those blue eyes anywhere. “Bucky?” you whispered, a tremor in your voice as you were forced to come to the realization that the man in front of you who shot at you only moments before was the man you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with. The man who you were told was dead. The man who was featured in that framed picture on your desk. It was taken at the Stark Expo before he was shipped off to fight in the war. You were both beaming at the camera and had your whole lives ahead of you. But everything changed when he went to fight for the country. 

“My name’s not Bucky,” the man responded instantly, a coldness in his tone that you only ever heard him speak about Steve’s father in. 

“That…that’s the Winter Soldier…” Howard whispered as he pulled on the fabric of your blazer to try and get you to move away from the threat in front of you. You had heard of the assassin before, of course. He was credited with the killings of some of the best minds in the intelligence community. And now he was after you… Your blazer was tugged at harder as Howard said in a firmer tone, “We gotta go! Now!” 

You stood frozen to the ground though as you held eye contact with the assassin in front of you. “Howard… It’s him. It’s Bucky…” you said breathlessly. 

There was another sharp tug as Howard snapped, “That is not Bucky! He is here to kill you!” 

Ignoring your friend’s pleas, you slowly put your hands in the air before taking a cautious step toward the masked man. “This isn’t you,” you told him. Nodding your head toward the picture, you said, “That is you. James Buchanan Barnes.” A sad smile made its way onto your face and a tear escaped your eye as you continued. “The real you is the man who was gonna marry me, remember? We had a venue picked out and everything. You were gonna get Steve to officiate. We were gonna move to the suburbs and have a white picket fence once the war was over. Three kids and a couple of pets. We were gonna have a long and happy life together, Sugar.” 

A quiet sob left your mouth as you grappled once more with the fact that your life turned out nothing like you expected. Howard whispered your name in warning, but you ignored him again and held your gaze with the man in front of you as you finished with, “That man is still in that handsome head of yours. I saw your hesitation when you looked at that photo. Now please, put down the gun. We can try to help you. Please. You’re the love of my life, Bucky. I can’t lose you again.”

As you finished your plea, something was spoken into a piece of technology he had in his ear and his eyes shifted from the comforting blue that felt like home to something as cold as ice before he said, “You’re my mission.”

A single gunshot rang out and you dropped to the floor in a lifeless heap, blood pooling under your body in an instant. Howard let out a scream in horror as he rushed to your side. Without an ounce of remorse in his body language, the Winter Soldier sauntered over to your lab hood and grabbed what he came for. To the soldier, you were simply another target he was assigned by HYDRA. But deep in his mind, to Bucky, you were his world. And you were dead because of him.

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: BEGGING🐟✨

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Chapter 3

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Electra ft Karen Page.

Tuna-Tober Prompt: Begging

Summary: Karen encourages Elektra to relieve Matt. All porn: riding, dirty talk, teasing.

Word Count: 1502

A/n: What ya’ll want is coming but Karen is a little shy. We have to get her comfortable.

Series Home

“You naughty, naughty girl.” Elektra whispered as she crawled her way up to Karen. She briefly licked Karen’s lips before softly kissing her. She slipped Karen’s lower lip into her mouth, gently teasing her until she popped it back out of her mouth. 

”What do you want to watch me do?” 

Karen pauses to think but Elektra was stirring up her arousal, again. She lowered her voice despite knowing that Matt could still hear her. Grinning, she says: “Can you make him beg?” Her eyes filled with sinful darkness at the question. 

A look of pure enjoyment spread across her face. “As you wish.” Elektra pressed a kiss to Karen’s cheek. 

“This is going to be fun. C’mon love and follow my lead.” Elektra gets off Karen and stands near the bed, extending her hand to Karen’s. 

“Oh, I see you’re still here, Matty. I’m very proud of you for behaving yourself.” Elektra said as she sauntered back into the living room.  

“Did you have a nice time out here?” She teased.

”Thanks for holding these for me, Matthew.” Karen whispered in his ear as she picked her panties off his shoulder. The scent of fresh arousal on her made his nostrils flare. 

Matt could barely contain himself. He was intoxicated with their essence. His blood, alight with fire, buzzed through his veins and pounded in his ears. Their pheromones hung heavy in the air and his desire for them seared in his groin. 

“You’re welcome, Karen. I enjoyed the opportunity to hear you two ladies. It seems you both had a nice time.”

“You two sure know how to make a girl feel welcome.” Karen giggled as she took a seat on the couch. Elektra found herself seated on Matt’s thighs, noticing the damp spot of precum on his pajama pants. Her hands danced along his arms, appreciating the gooseflesh left in their wake. 

“We did. In fact, we would still be back there but one of us was concerned about you.” She said, shooting Karen a look. 

“Guilty.” Karen chaffed, lifting a hand. 

“Well Karen is always considerate of others' needs.” His thighs tensed as he leaned forward as much as he could, attempting to goad Elektra. 

“Hmm. That sounded pointed to me. What do you think, Karen?” 

“Yeah, it sounds like he is disappointed in you, Ellie. What are you going to do about that?” She asked, attempting to spur the situation. 

Elektra sighed heavily. She leaned forward and placed her hands against Matt’s head, thumbs resting on his temples. She began to slowly massage him, thumbs rolling against his temple and fingers grazing against his scalp. Once she felt him begin to relax beneath her he lowered her tracings down the sides of his neck, down onto his shoulders. She let her nails graze against his skin, stopping once she hit his shoulders. 

Matt was enjoying the minor bits of physical touch, still intoxicated from listening to them pleasure themselves. 

Elektra pulled herself forward, lips hovering just out of reach of Matt’s. “I’m not going to do anything.” She husked, lips barely grazing his as she spoke. “Love, do you mind coming over here and standing behind Matt?” 

Excited, Karen stood up before answering her. 

“Is here ok?” She said, stopping directly behind him. 

“Yes and now, can you just lean forward a bit.”

Karen followed Elektra’s instructions until her breasts were pressing against Matt’s back, her face next to his. 

“I fear he is going to be no fun this evening. Can we play some more?” 

Karen nodded yes and rushed forward to kiss Elektra 

Matt thought he was going to combust. At least it was the closest to Heaven the Devil would ever get, seated between two beautiful angels as they gave each other pleasure. Their heat surrounded them and he was drowning in their sounds: their delicate moans as they deeply kissed. The way their hearts raced at different speeds. Their perfumes clung to the arousal already heavy in the air and left him dizzy with want. He instinctively reached forward to grab Elektra’s hips but his handcuffs stopped him. 

Elektra pulled back from Karen’s kisses. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are we bothering you?” She mocked. 

“No, mistress.” Matt replied, sighing through his teeth.

”That’s what I thought, Matty.” She praised as she moved her hips forward, until she was grinding on his covered erection, resuming her filthy kisses with Karen. 

Karen enjoyed seeing Matt like this. Hearing his heavy breathing and feeling his muscles twitch as she and Elektra kissed had pleasure building back between her thighs. She brought her hands forward, draping them over his chest as she tongue kissed Elektra. The movement made Matt’s chest heave and she took it upon herself to explore the thick muscles beneath his shirt. 

The sensation was phenomenal and Matt’s legs began to quiver beneath Elektra. 

“Please.” He requested, barely above a whisper. 

His voice made the women stop kissing. 

“I’m sorry Matthew, what was that?” Elektra teased as she grinded herself harder in his lap as she ran a gentle hand across Karen’s cheek. 

The sight of him squirming had Karen rubbing her thighs together to relieve the desire.

”Please.” He blurted out. 

“Please what?” She teased

”Please touch me, Mistress. I need you so badly.” 

“Do you, now? Hmm,how unfortunate for you as I am very busy, Matty.” 

Elektra shot Karen a questioning look, silently asking her what she needed. Karen nodded her head in response, biting her lip in anticipation. As much as she liked seeing him struggle, she was ready to see him fall apart. 

“Oh, Matthew you are lucky Karen is here tonight. We both know you don’t deserve this but our guest is asking me to accommodate your request.” She whispered against the shell of his ear before reaching down to remove him from his pants. 

Her touch was firm and he groaned at the contact. She only gave a few passes before he cock was twitching and fresh precum spilled from his tip. 

Elektra moved in to place a few quick pecks to his lips as she ran her folds along Matt’s cock. Matt’s breathing picked up and Karen enjoyed seeing the muscles tense under his jaw in anticipation. She took the opportunity to run her fingers down the taut muscles, enjoying the way it made him quiver. 

Elektra also noticed and decided to sink down onto his cock in one motion. 

“Mistress you feel absolutely fucking amazing.” Matt moaned as she bounced on his cock. 

“I know I do, sweetheart.” 

Karen watched as she rode Matthew. Their breath was coming out in soft huffs and they rocked in a way that only two people familiar with each other could. They were hypnotizing to see. Without thinking, Karen walked behind Elektra, straddling Matt so that she could embrace Elektra from behind. 

“Is this ok?” Karen asks as she begins to fondle Elektra’s breasts. 

“Yes it is. And I know Matt likes it.” She whined as Karen pinched her nipples, Elektra’s fingertips marked up his shoulders. 

Elektra picked up the pace as Karen continued to fondle her and kiss the side of her neck. 

“I’m going to cum soon.” Matt warned for Karen’s benefit, not Elektra’s. And he noticed what the warning did to Karen’s body. 

Elektra maintained her speed but picked up the intensity in his lap. Time started to slow for Matthew. He was moaning loudly, the feeling of Elektra’s pussy pulsing around him shot electricity through his body. He dissolved into pleasure, spilling into Elektra’s body as she rode out every last drop. 

Their movements slowed, following their breaths. Elektra’s hands gripped Matt’s shirt as Karen held her from behind. 

While Elektra and Matt enjoyed their afterglow, he could still smell and sense Karen’s arousal. 

“Let us take care of you, I know you need it.” He demanded in her direction. 

“Thank you Matt but I am ok for now.” She replied, swallowing hard. After a few moments Karen moved to get up, looking around for her previously discarded panties.

“Love, are you ok? Would you like to stay for dinner? Or dessert.” Elektra tenderly asked.

”Yeah, I am good Ellie.” She replied as she put on her underwear. “And I think I would like to stay. But let me help you.” She said before taking off to the bathroom. 

Smiling, Elektra looked at Matt. “She’s going to be a lot of fun.”

”Oh yeah she is. I can’t wait to ruin her.” He chuckled as Karen came back with a washcloth and the clothing they left in the bedroom. 

“Is there anything specific you want? I can order while you two get cleaned up.” Karen said as she got herself dressed. 

“Yeah, let’s get Chinese. I have a menu in that drawer. Some of our favorite dishes are starred. Can you order us some chicken and get whatever you like?” She answered, pointing to a drawer in the kitchen as she padded off to the bathroom. 

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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

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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.

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: A Hug That Lasts A Little Too Long🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

Tuna-Tober Day 10 - Matt Murdock

pairing: college!Matt Murdock x gn!reader

prompt: a hug that lasts a little too long

word count: 430 ish

content: this one is just sweet fluff 🥰 hugs and confessions of love

tuna-tober masterlist / main masterlist

“So? How did it go?” Matt asked, folding up his cane and tucking it away after you greeted him as the two of you met up at the campus coffee shop.

You had just gotten out of your toughest class and had taken your last final of the semester. It would determine your class standing. You needed to do well in order to graduate at the top of your class. Matt was already determined to graduate with honors - summa cum laude in law, and you were hoping to do the same in your major.

“I need something sweet and strong after that,” you told him vaguely.

“As in a reward or a treat to feel better?” Matt asked.

You couldn’t help the smile on your lips that reflected in your voice as you told him, “Reward. I got an A! I’ll be graduating summa cum laude!”

“That’s amazing!” Matt gushed, moving quickly to wrap his arms around you.

“Thank you!” you replied, burying your head into the crook of his neck as you relaxed in his arms. As you breathed in the scent of his cologne, a small smile made its way onto your lips and you felt the weight of the last four years melting off of your shoulders. A sudden wave of emotion washed over you when you did, and you felt tears welling up in your eyes, so you gripped the fabric of Matt’s shirt as a silent message to not let go. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice broken as you confessed your devotion to him. You reflected on your time together as your heart pounded in your ears after saying such a brazen thing in the heat of emotion.

You and Matt had been friends since you met in one of your first classes at Columbia, and had only gotten together after he and his ex-girlfriend Elektra had broken up. He had confided in you about how torn up about it he was and you helped him get back on track with his studies. During these study sessions in the library and either of your dorms, you both realized that you saw one another as more than friends, and well…things had taken off since. You had just never said those three little words to him until now.

“I love you too,” Matt whispered, kissing the top of your head as he held you close.

The moment was ruined by the barista at the counter clearing her throat and asking, “Uh guys, it’s been like two minutes. Are you two gonna order something or what?”