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✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: FLOWER CROWNS 🐟✨

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"A Bit Of Sunshine" (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic)

And here we are on Day 2 of the Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! For Day Two, I chose the fluff prompt: Flower Crowns. 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. And off we go!

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Wordcount: 985

Warnings for this chapter, let's do this: none, just some sweetness

It was rare that he found time to simply relax.

And yet here he was with you. The air was pleasantly warm, a whisper against his skin from the cool breeze faintly tinged with salt from the sea, and the shade from the massive oak tree above kept the worst of the sun’s rays from reaching him. The familiar sounds of the park—squealing children, laughing couples, bees buzzing away beneath a chorus of birdsong and rustling leaves—had been a welcome respite from the blaring sirens and furious car horns, though he’d have been able to hear those, too, if he’d concentrated hard enough. But in a brief moment of peace, he’d allowed himself to reel his focus back in, his hypervigilance easing until he was just… here. 

Here, in this case, referred to the two of you together atop a blanket under a tree in the park, the chosen location of your Saturday date. You’d settled with your back against the tree, your legs stretched out easily in front of you. It hadn’t been long before the warmth and fresh air had drawn him into an unusual state of lethargic relaxation, and at your encouragement, he’d wound up sprawled out next to you, his head in your lap, his eyes closed and his hands folded on his chest. You’d seemed to recognize the moment for what it was, too. Your fingers had quickly found their way often to his hair, stroking fondly through the strands, nails against his scalp a sensation that occasionally made him purr or hum, rolling his head into your touch. He wasn’t sure how long it had been, but that didn’t seem to matter. Sometimes you both talked, and sometimes instead you lapsed into a pleasant quiet, the two of you simply enjoying the break from all the chaos and stress so common in your life together.  Though your hands had been absent from his hair for a little while now, instead working steadily away at some sort of mystery project above him. He wasn’t sure what it was. He’d have to extend his senses to find out, and for now, he was choosing to trust you while he let go of his usual control. 

Still, the repeated shift of you as you reached for something beside the blanket, the little snap as you pulled something from the grass over and over, adding it to whatever you were working on, finally stirred his curiosity.

“What are you doing?” he murmured, fighting back a yawn as he adjusted his head on your lap, tipping it towards yours. It wasn’t like he could see you, but he liked to make sure you knew he was listening.

“Making you something.” You let out a hum, something soft and light falling from whatever you held in your hands to land on his cheek. He didn’t bother to move it. It was soft enough, whatever it was, and delicately scented—faint traces of cut grass and something vaguely sweet, tinged with musk and the scent of your skin where you’d touched it. Even without his focus firmly in hand, the sensory weight of it made his nose twitch as he took it in. Fortunately, the smell wasn’t unpleasant, especially when mingled with yours around him, with the scent of grass and earth, oak leaves and sea breeze and sugary vanilla from the ice cream cart a few hundred yards away. Somehow, he had a feeling the unique mixture would stay with him, a memory shortcut back to the feeling of this moment, so he spent a long moment breathing it in, letting it imprint itself on his mind. These brief moments of joy, of perfection were something he held onto as tightly as he could, a shield for his heart when his thoughts grew dark and the world seemed intent on stripping all the good from his life like meat from the bone. 

“There,” you said happily, the shape of your smile sunlight on his skin. “All done. Hold still.”

You shifted a little above him, lifting his slack head just a touch, and a moment later you settled something onto his head, a circular loop of sensation that lightly pressed down against his hair, tickling, velvet-soft whispers of textures against his forehead. The scent of cut grass and sweetness grew stronger with its presence, and he lazily blinked his eyes open, shifting his gaze towards where he knew your face lay.  

“Oh, you need to let me get a picture before you take that off. My flower king.” You sighed, before leaning down to kiss him lightly. You lifted your head again, tilting your head in the way he’d come to learn meant you were taking him in, trying to ensure you would remember this later, just as he had a moment ago with the scents around him. “Your eyes with the yellow dandelions and your hair is just beautiful. You look happy.” 

And the truth in your heart when you said it just… 

“Maybe I am happy.” He leaned into your hand when you ran it down his cheek, scanning lovingly around the sensory shape of you, all gentle whispers of fire and soft sensation. “And what about you, sweetheart?”

“I’m with you,” you said softly, lifting up one of his scarred, battered hands. You brought it up to your mouth, letting his fingers trace your smile before you turned it and kissed the woven bands of scar tissue on his knuckles. “So yeah. I’m happy. Now sit up for me for a minute. I want to get a picture of us, flower crown included.”

That picture found its way onto his desk a few days later. 

He couldn’t see it, of course. 

But the cut dandelions you often left beside the picture were quick to bring the memory back, as did every last determined bloom he found growing up stubbornly through the cracks of his city.

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✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: FALLING ASLEEP IN A HOSPITAL BED 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

Two Shots in the Throat

Description: Claude is recovering in the hospital after Catalina shoots him in the throat.

Relationship: Claude x Catalina

Prompt: Falling Asleep in a Hospital Bed (day 1)

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Claude stared up at the white ceiling of his hospital room. He had just gone through hours of surgery to save his life. His memory was blank, but the doctors didn’t have trouble reminding him what happened. It was Catalina. The woman he loved shot him twice in the throat for no reason other than she was bored of him. They were almost out of this life. He had promised her after they got a good deal of money, they could live a quiet life together away from all the crime. Telling by the fact he was handcuffed to the bed, when he recovers, he’d be sent straight to jail. They had finally gotten a good amount of money from a bank robbery when she decided she didn’t want that anymore, pulled out her pistols, pulled the trigger, and fucked up his life.

He was horrified when he woke up from surgery. When he tried to speak, nothing would come out except for small puffs of breath. The doctor didn’t know when he would be able to speak again, if he’d be able to speak again. Not only was he going to jail for however many years, he’d be mute.

It was getting late. He didn’t want to sleep, but his eyes were getting heavy. Claude listened closely to the beeps of the machines attached to him, letting them guide his mind to relaxation. His eyes slowly closed. His new future awaits.

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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Self-Loathing + “Shh, I’ve got you now. I’m here.” + Nightmare + Shaking + “You can sleep here tonight” 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

Help Me

Description: John had overstepped. He runs to Slash and his family to safety.

Relationships: Axl Rose x Slash

Prompts: Self-Loathing (Day 5), “Shh, I’ve got you now. I’m here.” (Day 6), Nightmare (Day 7), Shaking, “You can sleep here tonight” (Day 8)

Part 4 of “You’re My Red Rose”

⚠️WARNING⚠️: MENTIONS OF PHYSICAL ABUSE, MENTIONS OF CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE

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Axl ran, holding Mia in his arms. John was not far behind him. He had came home drunker than a skunk. In an intoxicated haze, he started touching on Mia while they were sleeping. Axl had woken up before he had gotten too far thankfully. After a short fight, he grabbed Mia and stormed out of the door. His target was to go for the woods behind the trailer to attempt to lose him. It worked. John had slowed down when he had gotten deeper into the wall of trees.

He adjusted Mia in his arms, not wanting to put her down on the grass because she was barefoot. Axl pressed his forehead against the little girl’s forehead, relieved they’re safe for now. He had no idea where he was going to go. In need of a break, he sat on a large rock with Mia on his lap.

“Please don’t take me back, Billy,” Mia begged, tearing up.

Axl kissed her cheek. “I won’t. I just need to figure out where to go. We can’t stay here all night.”

They didn’t have any nearby family members as pretty much his mother’s entire family disowned her after she got pregnant with him. Axl dug in his pocket. He only had $25. That was not enough for a room at a hotel or motel. It’d be different if it was just him, but it wasn’t. There was no way he was going to let Mia sleep on the streets.

The only other person who he thought would take them in was Slash. He didn’t want to bother him and his family this late at night, but there was no choice. This was an emergency.

Surprisingly, music blared through the walls of Slash’s and his parents’ house. He hesitated a little before knocking on the door. A woman with dark skin answered the door. It was his mother, Kadejah, . This was a really bad first impression.

“Axl? What are you doing here so late at night?” She asked, placing her hand over chest in concern. “Aren’t your parents going to be worried?”

“My family is who I’m running from. My stepfather was assaulting her while we slept so I took her and ran,” Axl explained.

Kadejah let them in. His father, Jerry, was sitting on the couch, smoking a cigarette. She quickly explained the situation to him. It took some convincing, but he eventually agreed to let them stay. Axl set Mia down on the hardwood floor. Kadejah ordered Jerry to go wake up Slash. Mia squeezed onto his leg.

“Are y’all hungry? I still have some leftovers from dinner?” Kadejah asked.

“No, ma’am,” Axl responded. He looked down at Mia. “Are you hungry, Dimples?”

Mia shook her head no.

Jerry returned with a tired Slash. His eyes widened at the sight of Axl and his little sister.

“Something went down at Axl’s home so him and his little sister will be staying here until the meantime if that’s alright with you?” said Kadejah.

Slash nodded. “Sure, sure. He can stay here.”

“Okay. I’ll get the extra bedroom ready for Mia. Axl can sleep in the room with you.”

Slash held his hand as he guided him to his bedroom. When he closed the door behind them, Axl felt his knees buckle. Before his knees could hit the floor, Slash caught him. Axl cried into his shirt. Having to fend for himself and Mia all the time, it was tiring. He wished he lived a normal life. He wanted to go to prom. He wanted to have birthday parties. He wanted to go on vacations. Instead, he was fighting uphill battles everyday to survive.

It made him feel insignificant. Why did he have to be so damn scary? He could go to the police. There was enough evidence on both his and Mia’s bodies that could send John to jail for years.

“I couldn’t protect her. I let him touch her.” Axl cried, holding onto Slash tightly.

Slash brushed his ginger hair. “Shh, I’ve got you now. I’m here. Mia’s safe. You’re safe.”

They got into Slash’s bed. Axl was still holding onto him. Slash hummed soothingly. He fought to go to sleep. It took him an hour to achieve that.

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Slash was in a deep sleep when loud cries woke him up. He looked to the right of him where the cries were coming from. Axl had his arms crossed around his torso. His whole body was shaking and his face was scrunched up.

“Please don’t hurt me. I-I didn’t do anything.” Axl began to kick the air with his feet.

He was having a nightmare. Slash shook him awake while reminding him that he was okay. Axl woke up, struggling to catch his breath. Sweat covered every inch of his body. Slash pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around him. Axl breathed a sigh of relief when he realized where he was.

“I won’t let that bastard hurt you again,” he whispered, kissing the top of his head.

Axl lifted up out of the embrace. He caressed his cheek and kissed him passionately on the lips.

“Thank you, Slash. I-I love you,” Axl said.

Slash pecked his nose. “I love you, too.”

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: ""Are you blushing?" + 69🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

"Sharing is Caring" (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic, 🔥)

Time for the next prompt for my Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! This is for day 4 (Matt very much did not like this only being a drabble so now it's 5600 words, fuck me), I chose to combine the kink and fluff prompts (69 and 'Are you blushing?'). 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: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Wordcount: 5.6k, Matt fought me and won

Warnings for this chapter, let's do this: smutty smut smut, 69 position so oral for both plus face riding, overstimulation, lil bit of prostate stim, multiple orgasms, panty tearing, matt is a MENACE

LOOK AT THIS SMUG MOTHERFUCKER, I HAD A NEAT AND ORDERLY TIMELINE AND A DRABBLE OUTLINE, INSTEAD HE THREW THAT OUT THE WINDOW AND HE HAS FILLED THIS FIC WITH SIN, THE AUDACITY, WHAT TIME IS IT, MATT THIS IS YOUR FAULT

Matt was a giving lover. That much you knew. 

No round of sex with Matt ended without at least one orgasm for you, and often more if he had his way, which he often did, the audacity of that man. It wasn’t unusual for him to spend hours with his head buried between your thighs, skilled tongue lapping hungrily at your sex in a way that made you see stars, and had also led to you tearing a hole in the sheets on more than one occasion. He’d bent you over every last surface in the apartment, and some of the surfaces outside it too. Somehow he always managed to sink himself so deeply inside you that you’d have sworn you felt him in your throat, and that feeling was always followed by him fucking into you with a practiced athleticism that never failed to leave you a melted, howling mess. 

In other words, if sex with you was an artform, your climax was the masterpiece Matt lovingly devoted himself to creating. You’d never been with someone who took such joy in giving you pleasure. But sometimes he was… too giving.

Like now, when what you wanted was to get that thick cock of his into your mouth. 

“Oh, but sweetheart, I’m so hungry,” he purred, a warm, distracting light in his eyes. He was all heat and hungry fire where he stood in the bedroom doorway, a slow, lazy lick of his lips that admittedly had your cunt clenching around nothing. That look meant he had no intention of letting you out of bed for at least the next three hours. The growing outline of his hardening cock against his slacks only confirmed your suspicion as his voice dropped into something low and tempting. “I’ve been thinking about tasting you all day. It’s the only reason I got through work. Let me get my mouth on you, just for a little while. I’ll make it good for you, you know I will. Don’t you want that?”

It was a good offer. A very good offer, and one he was more than capable of fulfilling. You both knew it. But damn it, you also knew what you wanted. 

“No,” you said stubbornly, crossing your arms. “I don’t want that.” “Lie,” he murmured. His head cocked, his sightless gaze dropping to your chest, and then lower until they landed somewhere around your hips. His lips slowly curled up into a smirk. “Mm, big lie.” “...Alright, so maybe I always want that,” you admitted reluctantly, biting your lip as you stared down at the outline of your prize, heavy and thick even through the cloth. It was enough to make your mouth water. “But right now I want to suck you off more.” 

And god, did you ever. It was rare for him to let you go down on him, but those memories had become regulars in your fantasies. There was just something about his soft moans and hitched whines when you took him in your mouth, the way he threw his head back and his mouth hung slack, his spine arching when you let the tip of your tongue gently brush that spot below the head of his cock until he fucking begged for you to swallow him down. And if you kept going after he’d already come, kept sucking at his softening cock and pressed your knuckle just right behind his balls, drove his trembling, writhing body carefully into overstimulation, you could even drag something like a second orgasm out of him in short succession. He’d been a melted, purring, barely coherent puddle for a good hour when you'd last managed it and you had every intention of seeing if you couldn’t do it again. 

His brows shot up, as if he were genuinely surprised at just how truthful you’d been, or maybe surprised at just aroused the thought of your mouth on him made you. But those same brows quickly furrowed in open confusion. “You…” His head shifted back and forth, checking again that you were telling the truth. “You want that? Over me going down on you?” “Why is it so hard to believe I want you like you want me?” You snorted, wandering over to him until you could lean in and kiss him playfully. He still seemed puzzled, but he made a little huff of amusement when you did it again, dragging your nails down the front of his shirt. His chest rumbled beneath your touch, a quiet groan of pleasure. “Come on. Share, Matt. Let me have a taste this time.” 

He tipped his head down slowly towards you, clearly tempted. You leaned into him, another rumble leaving him when your lips brushed tantalizingly against the corner of his mouth. You almost had him now. The blatant note of your arousal in the air would only help your case now that you were up close. There was a flush on his cheeks now, and his nostrils flared, taking your scent in when you not-so-subtly rubbed your thighs together. You slowly hooked one finger in his belt, giving it a tug. “Please?” Your desire left you almost breathless, the word hushed and pleading. You weren’t above begging if you needed to. “I need you in my mouth, Matt. You can have me after, can’t you?” “Or…” He drew his lower lip between his teeth for a moment, sucking lightly before letting it go,  his mouth parted and wet. “Or we can both get what we want, with a few adjustments.” Oh. 

Your breath caught, and you went still, something thick and rich as molten honey rolling through your veins. “Why, sweetheart,” he murmured, dipping his head until he could feather his lips over your ear. One of his fingers brushed over your sternum, so light you almost didn’t feel it, before it traced its way gradually up your throat to your cheek, stirring all the tiny hairs in its wake. “Are you blushing?” “No,” you whispered, caught up in visions of what that might look like, feel like, to have his tongue licking its way hungrily into your cunt, all while you took his cock in your mouth and tried your best to make him lose his mind. Would he grow sloppy then, clumsy when you toyed with the head of him? Or would he tap into that focus of his, the two of you in a blatant competition to see who broke first? You wouldn’t deny just how wet the idea made you, but that would also be a lot of sensation for him, especially when you both knew he could come from the taste of your cunt alone. “Or… yes, I… Would that be… too much? Your senses—”

“I’ll be fine. I may have…” He let out a low chuckle, his own cheeks now the lightest bit pink as he cleared his throat. “I may have gone into the office bathroom before I left work, and… taken care of myself. I’d been thinking about my head between your thighs all day. I had to make sure I could get home.”

The visual slammed into you with the force of a truck: Matt with one scarred hand pressed tight over his mouth to stifle his moans while he frantically stroked at his cock. And it was all because he’d spent hours thinking about how he was going to go home, throw you into bed, and find his way right down to your cunt. Your low moan was quickly swallowed up as he caught your chin and tipped your head up so his lips could find yours. The kiss was all teeth and burning heat, fire and fierce need, his stubble rasping against your skin until you felt like you were on fire. One of his hands swept down and behind you, fingers spread wide as he groped roughly, greedily against your ass. He used that same grip to haul you forward into him, making you whine when his hips ground into yours, letting you feel exactly what you’d done to him. “Fuck,” he breathed. “I can smell you, how wet you are. Tell me you want that, sweetheart. Tell me—” “God yes, please, please, Matt.”

You didn’t bother to keep track of where your clothes fell as you both stumbled your way into the bedroom, neither of you willing to pull your hands and mouths off each other long enough to figure that out. You managed to get everything off but your panties by the time you neared the bed, and you fully intended to slide those off, too, but you were distracted by the pleasure of Matt’s mouth as he determinedly nipped and licked at the skin of your throat, blatantly drinking the pheromones from your skin. Fortunately, Matt was a bit less distracted.

The tearing of fabric rang out, and then Matt’s fingers slipped between your soaked folds, stroking three fingers eagerly along your slit until you gasped out his name. 

“Oops,” he said with a smirk.

“You’re paying for those,” you grumbled. “Happily.” He side stepped around you, and by the time you’d turned he was already on the bed,  rolling onto his back and tipping his head back in clear expectation. Then he brought his wet, gleaming fingers up to his mouth, inhaling intently as he rubbed his fingers together. The reaction was immediate: a fierce groan, his other hand shooting down to wrap tightly around his cock as his hips bucked. 

“Shit,” you whispered, absolutely mesmerized as he took another greedy breath, a creeping flush spreading across his pale skin. He may have come an hour or so ago, but his cock already looked achingly hard, the whole of it flushed dark and red, a decadent droplet of precum beading at the tip. He was an absolute vision, all of that strength and power, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen laid out like a meal for you, this affected just by the thought, the scent of your arousal. It lit a fire in you, and Matt must have sensed it, because he let out a growl before giving in and shoving his fingers into his mouth. His eyes snapped shut, a loud moan tearing through him. His other hand started to stroke quickly at his cock, firm drives up with a smooth sweep of his palm over the head before sliding back down, all as he sucked the taste of you eagerly from his fingers, unwilling to lose even a single drop. It was one of the hottest things you’d ever seen. “Holy shit, you’re trying to kill me.” “Get up here and ride my face, sweetheart,” he grit out, shifting to let his thumb rub against the wet head of his cock. A delicious shiver ran through him, and he rolled his head on the pillow to face you. There was something far darker in his eyes, then, whispers of the Devil, of merciless rain on hard city streets. “Do it before I drag you up here myself, because I’m not going to fucking care if you can reach my cock when I do.”

It was the only invitation you needed, and you scrambled up onto the bed before he could change his mind. You had no intention of missing the opportunity he’d given you. 

You hit another brief snag, however, once you’d crawled over to him. You’d ridden his face before, but that had always been with you facing the headboard or the arm of the couch. This required the opposite angle. After a moment’s consideration, one that ended quickly when Matt growled a warning, you muttered a quiet, “fuck it,” and did a half turn, throwing your leg quickly over him so you had a knee on either side of his shoulders. Then you walked back a step or two on your knees, Matt’s free hand taking the meat of your thigh in his grip. It was difficult to figure out just where you needed to be to get the angle right. All you could see from this angle was his body stretched out like a long, open road before you, his other hand still stroking roughly at his cock, his knees bent, feet braced so he could rut lazily up into his grip. You didn’t really know where to put your hands, so you settled for placing them against the broad line of his chest, using them to brace yourself as you tentatively adjusted.

Matt, however, had lost his patience. 

With a snarl, he let go of his cock. Both his hands caught your hips, and with one hard yank he wrenched you down, burying his mouth against your pussy as if he hadn’t eaten in days. 

You both let out a sharp moan, Matt’s far more muffled than yours. There was no gentleness now, no parting you with his fingers to tease you with the tip of his tongue before settling in. Instead, it was something ravenous and filthy, animalistic, Matt’s mouth open wide as he licked and sucked at your folds and slit, greedily drinking up every last drop of your arousal he could find. For a moment you forgot what your plan had been. Your head fell to rest against his abdomen, your lips parted on a whine as Matt devoured your slick with heavy grunts and rumbles of approval, your hips starting to rock against his mouth. He was eating at you with everything in him, no thought given to things like air, based on his hitched breathing and muffled groans. He’d told you once, lips curled into a smirk, his chin still wet with your arousal, that if he died between your thighs, well, he’d consider that death a victorious one. 

“Mm—Matt, oh god, please,” you whimpered, your fingers curling against his skin, red lines left in your wake.

 Apparently satisfied that he’d taken in everything he could get, Matt tipped his head down just a hair, using his grip on your hips to adjust you until his tongue found your clit. With a purr, he began to lap warmly, steadily at it, over and over and over again, every now and then pursing his lips to kiss at it with a fond affection that was almost tender. The attention to your clit made your eyes flutter shut, quiet whimpers escaping you with each pass of his tongue, your body clenching in want. At the fresh trickle of wetness, Matt groaned in delight. “Taste so good, sweetheart, all mine,” he slurred warmly, syllables thick and sounding almost drugged, before his tongue found you again, falling right back into his aphrodisiac of choice. As he did, his body began to shift beneath you, before settling into a steady rocking. Startled, your eyes fluttered open, and you glanced down his body. What you saw made your mouth fall slack.

Matt had begun to roll his hips, rutting up in lazy waves. At first you thought it might be an invitation, a reminder, but as you watched you quickly realized what he was doing. With every flex and buck of his hips, he managed to rub his cock against his abdomen, just a little. You could already see the smears of precum pooling in the lines and grooves of flexing muscle, and that only made each successful contact smoother, Matt’s moans against your cunt growing stuttered and hoarse. It likely wouldn’t have been enough sensation for anyone else, but for Matt and his senses, it was just enough to drive him further upwards, his thick thighs starting to tremble. Hell, he was probably enjoying it, considering how he liked to tease himself. 

Fortunately, it was also a reminder of what you’d wanted to do. 

You quickly stretched out above him, headed for your goal. Your hips shifted just a little as you did, and Matt let out a low, possessive growl, his hands tightening on your hips in a warning. He didn’t like the idea that you might pull away before he was done, you had a feeling.

“Relax.” You choked out a shaky laugh, lowering your head to kiss fondly at the crest of his hip. Your affection softened his growl to a gentler, contented groan. “Just-just trying to get to you.” He seemed soothed by that, at least. Then again, maybe he just wasn’t listening, far too focused on your cunt to really hear you. Either way it didn’t matter, because you’d finally maneuvered yourself to where you’d wanted to be. You braced one hand shakily on his thigh, some of your weight settling down on top of him. His chest rose and fell on a happy sigh beneath you, more than happy to have you sprawled out over him. It also meant his cock was now in range of your mouth. 

It was even more tantalizing up close, flushed, wet, and practically begging for your attention even if Matt’s mouth was otherwise occupied. You eagerly caught the base of it, wrapping your fingers tight around it. Beneath you he let out a grunt, his tongue faltering against your clit. You had no interest in waiting any longer, so without a second’s hesitation you dipped your head and stuck out your tongue, catching one of the drops of precum rolling down the shaft. From there you rose with one long drag along his length, following that damp trail back up to his tip like you might a melting drop of ice cream. The moment your tongue swept over the head of Matt’s cock, he let out a startled moan, one that morphed into a hoarse cry when you lapped warmly at his slit, chasing the taste of him, taking in every fresh drop that welled up beneath your attention. It had been far too long since you’d gotten to taste him like this, bitter and salty in equal measure, the scent of musk and sex so much stronger here.

“God,” he choked out, squirming beneath you, his hands practically clawing at your hips. His head dropped back and away from your cunt as he gasped up to the ceiling, breath hitching on a high moan as the strokes of your tongue grew more firm. “Ah-ah! Your mouth, sweetheart, I need it, just—”

Time to see if you could break him before he broke you.

You dropped your mouth open wide before starting to slide him into your mouth, using your hand at his base to angle him and make it a little easier. But easier was… relative. 

Shit, you thought with a low moan, one that had Matt crying out behind you. He was so fucking thick, broad enough that you felt a faint ache in your jaw, saliva already leaking out past the corners of your mouth to drip down his length. There was no graceful way to swallow him down, but the sensation of your saliva rolling down his shaft, your stifled huffs through your nose as you slowly worked your way down his cock had him absolutely wrecked. His body trembled beneath you, his hips jerking in an only barely aborted attempt to thrust up into the warm, wet cavern of your mouth. He actually whined when you gave him your first little suck, and those whines only grew in number as you did it again, his panting music to your ears, so wet you were practically dripping down onto him. And maybe you really had, because before you could blink, he’d yanked your hips back down. This time, however, he brought his hands around so he could use his thumbs to part your body for him. With a wild moan, he’d buried his mouth against your slit, licking hotly at your opening over and over until he’d managed to worm his tongue inside you.

Your eyes rolled back at the feel of his tongue lapping eagerly at your inner walls, his chin grinding roughly against your clit. He’d burrowed in so hard against you it was if were intent on drowning, on latching onto you and never letting go. The angle was perfect, and you found yourself grinding down instinctively against his face, riding his tongue inside you and the stubbled texture of his chin, chasing your pleasure just as you were seeking his. His delighted moan as you started to use him the way he wanted was so muffled you swore he shouldn’t have been able to breathe, but still you couldn’t bring yourself to stop, whining around the length of him in your mouth as he slurped deeper, your thighs locking up around his head, his skin slick with you. He was dangerously close to coming based on the way his cock had started to throb against your tongue, and you weren’t much further behind, but he was clearly aiming to get you there first.

No.

No, you wanted to ruin him too.  Focus, just a little more. You clumsily lifted your head halfway up before skating back down to meet your hand around his base. Neither of you were coordinated enough to make this last much longer, too distracted by the rising waves of pleasure, but that didn’t matter. You knew his body. You could outlast him, by a few seconds at least. But to do that, you’d need one more thing. So, determined to win, you quickly worked your free hand down past his cock, pausing to knead briefly at his sac just for the way it made him moan roughly against your cunt before you drifted past it. You didn’t slide your fingers inside him—something you both hadn’t tried quite yet—but you did curl one finger and press your knuckle up gently just behind his balls, indirect pressure against that spot deep inside him. 

His back arched so sharply and suddenly beneath you he almost managed to throw you off, and his choked gasp hit air as he threw his head back. With a shaky whine, he ground down desperately against your finger before snapping his hips up, clearly torn between the wet suction of your mouth around his cock and the firm pressure against his prostate. But unlike last time he’d thrown his head back, this time you followed his mouth with your hips. You were too close to that edge now to go without it, especially not with the noises he was making—whimpers and broken moans, slurred pleas—so you tried desperately to find his lips again, grinding down against his face. And though you were reluctant to let him go, you still managed to tear your mouth off his cock just long enough to gasp out, “Fuck, Matt, please!” 

Your begging managed to drag him up out of his haze just enough that he began to sloppily hunt for your clit, licking at your cunt until he finally found it, closing his lips around it just as you did the same to the head of his cock. Two warm pulls of your mouth to match his, and then with one more shove of your finger against that spot inside him, he cried out and came hard into your mouth in salty, bitter waves that tasted like fucking satisfaction. His hoarse moans, desperate and so very needy pushed you the rest of the way. Matt’s tongue lapped warmly against your clit, and just like that you joined him in falling over the edge, your body tightening and releasing in a rolling tide of pleasure that left you floating. He quickly shoved his mouth against your slit, grunting as he greedily drank down everything your body gave him. 

You thought you were done, then, your chest heaving, your thighs shaking as the waves began to ease into aftershocks. But then Matt nuzzled roughly at your clit, his tongue brushing over it almost curiously. Then he moaned, dragging your hips back down. “Don’t stop,” he rasped hoarsely, yanking your hips back down. Just like that, his mouth was on your clit again, which was great except that you still hadn’t quite finished the last orgasm. The sudden rush of overstimulation before you could fully come down left you shaking, clawing wildly at him, but your squirming got you nowhere, your hips firmly held in an iron grip.

Don’t stop. 

There wasn’t much you could do but follow the instruction. 

You moaned and began to suck clumsily at him, the softness of his cock cradled gently on your tongue. The noise he let out was strangled and hoarse, almost pained, because this had to be too much for him, it had to be, and yet… he couldn’t resist starting to rock up instinctively against your mouth, a broken whimper breathed against your cunt when you managed to probe your tongue against the tip of him. You knew, distantly, remembered that you’d had this plan: if you did this fast enough, did this just right, using his senses to your benefit, you could make him come again. And, well, it had helped before, so you shifted and rolled your finger, grinding hard against that spot inside him in steady waves, sucking harder at his cock just for the way it made him writhe. His head fell back once again, his hands dropping away from you to fist in the sheets, but you didn’t care, your goal in sight. One of these days you were going to get your fingers inside him to see what noises he made then, and just to taunt him, you hooked and curled your fingers against his soft skin, your message clear. 

You weren’t sure who was more startled when he came—you, or him—but  either way, he did, his cock only half-hard at best as he snapped his hips up, his body locking up as he spilled into your mouth. He made a sound you’d never heard from him before, one part shout and one part a high, hitching moan, the sounds ebbing and flowing with each jagged wave of pleasure you dragged him through, almost enough to hide the sound of tearing fabric. There wasn’t much left for his body to give, granted, but you still accepted those few drops anyway, swallowing them down with a satisfied moan as you milked him dry, massaging your fingers against him to drag it out. You didn’t stop until his sounds began to sound pained, and even then it was a struggle. You had to force yourself to lift your head, sitting back against his chest. But even that much pressure against your clit made you whimper, your body shaking, because despite the overstimulation, as predicted he’d managed to shove you up far enough again that you were hanging right on the edge again, orgasm just a breath away.

“Matt,” you choked out, not even sure what it was you needed—his hand maybe, or even just for him to hold still so you could ride some part of him. One glance over your shoulder, however, let you unsure of what he might be able to give. 

Matt’s head was still thrown back on the pillow, his mouth hanging open as he panted, hair damp and sticking up in every direction. His eyes were glazed over and dark, absent any real awareness or thought. You knew that look, one he got when you’d really managed to fuck him senseless or leave him wrecked. He was out of it, his senses momentarily overloaded, out of order, come back later. You quickly pulled yourself off of him, just in case your weight over him had been unpleasant. He’d need some time, but fortunately, sitting here and staring at what you’d done—Matt Murdock, fucked out and drunk off your body—would be just the sort of visual you needed as you took care of yourself. You dropped one hand, sliding it between your legs until you could circle your clit with your fingertips, your lips parting on a satisfied moan. It wasn’t as good as Matt, but it was good enough.

Or… that’s what you thought you’d do, until Matt’s head snapped in your direction. His hand darted up, grabbing for you.

Except that he missed, his hand snatching at the empty air about two inches to your left.

“Matt,” you huffed shakily, using your other hand to take his. He probably just wanted to stay close, he usually did when you got him like this. “I’m-I’m fine, just, unh, gonna fini—Matt!” 

Your hand brushing against his had apparently been the compass he needed, because you abruptly found yourself shoved back onto the bed on your back with a grunt. He was on his hands and knees before you could blink, scrambling and groping around the bed to feel out how you’d fallen, his eyes burning. The moment he made contact with you again, he shoved his head forward with a growl, mouthing at you, licking, biting at whatever skin he could find, which happened to be your ribs, the nip of his teeth sharp enough to make you cry out. You knew that you knew you’d have a mark there tomorrow, one to join the bruises on your hip. But it clearly wasn’t the part of you he’d been aiming for, and he snarled in clear frustration, swinging his head back and forth in a failed attempt to orient before he managed to find your hips with his hands. Your own hands wound up tangled in his hair as he dragged himself roughly over your legs, and fuck, if he was offering, you were happy to take it. You lifted up your hips, tugging at his hair to direct him. “Here!” you gasped, pushing his head down between your thighs. “Here, Matt, right—”

He buried his face sloppily against your cunt again, not a hint of shame or hesitation in him. And his furious, rough lapping at your clit was exactly what you needed. The sound you made was raw and torn, almost a shriek as you suddenly got the stimulation you’d been looking for, your body tightening in rapid waves beneath his mouth. He caught your clit between his lips, growled, and sucked hard enough to have you seeing stars. That was it for you, your back arching as you fisted your hands tightly in his hair and came across his tongue, a flood of wetness drenching his face. With every pulsing wave of pleasure, he let out a satisfied little rumble, sucking in time with the rhythm of your body, dragging your orgasm out until the world burned white. The moment those waves began to ebb, he switched to broad flat licks along the entire length of your cunt, mindlessly drinking up every last drop, his eyes falling half closed in apparent bliss. 

Which was nice. Until your body started to request a break. 

“Matt,” you choked out, trying to shift away. He instinctively followed, blearily keeping his mouth latched onto your cunt, the pressure on your clit almost painful now. “Matt, that’s—fuck—I need a break, sweetheart, please! Matt!”

The sharp call of his name seemed to snap him out of it, and he finally let you go with a groan. He didn’t get very far, though, immediately tipping his head sideways until it landed on your thigh with a soft thump.  

You let yourself breathe for a minute, twitching now and then when an aftershock rolled through you. When you were feeling a little more able to breathe, you finally lifted your head to glance at him. “That,” you wheezed, “was… we need to do that again. But in… in a while.”

He blinked slowly at you, blissed out and lazy as a lion who’d just had a meal. He hadn’t moved from your thigh, his face still absolutely drenched. Then he grinned, and the expression was so absolutely, drunkenly smug that you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I take it you’re ok, then?” You snorted, reaching down to stroke your fingers down his wet cheek. 

He blinked at you again, and there was a brief delay before his head turned and he nudged affectionately at your hand. Sometimes when his senses got too overloaded after sex, he needed a few minutes without touch to come down. This time, however, it seemed like touch was what he needed. 

“You wanna come up here and listen to my heartbeat until your senses are all back online?”

He seemed to think that over for a minute before he slowly started to drag himself up your body. He didn’t even bother to lift his head from you, simply dragging it along your skin as if he were loathe to lose the sensation of you against him. He only ran into a slight hiccup when he bumped into your breasts. He nosed around for a second, huffing briefly, before he found the space between them and continued on. “You’re drunk as hell,” you choked out a laugh, as he rubbed his ear fondly back and forth over your sternum, hunting for whatever spot sounded best. “You’re pussy drunk. God, I love you.” He finally selected his spot on your chest, his head dropping. The rest of his body followed, as he settled down on top of you with a groan of satisfaction. Then he rumbled out a contented sigh as you got your fingers in his hair, stroking through the sweat-soaked strands. One of his hands fumbled its way down to your hip, where he began to knead clumsily at it, your affections very much returned. “Mhm. Love you, too.” 

“Little more coherent?” “Mm. You taste good.” “So do you. Don’t make me wait so long to get my mouth on you again.”

“Mhm,” he sighed. He absently licked his lips, before purring quietly, his eyes falling shut. “I promise. We’ll share.”

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

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"Are You Blushing?"

love me some drover :)

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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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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: READING TO EACH OTHER🐟✨

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Day 1 - Reading to Each Other

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader Word Count: 827 Content: Fluff!! Long distance relationship (but like not really), no use of y/n, gender neutral reader Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: And so we begin. . . five days late but it's alright! I cheated the prompt a lil bit; it's for a good cause, trust me. Be sure to like and reblog if you enjoy and let me know if you want to be a part of a taglist!

“One whole week?!” Foggy cries out, “How will you ever survive without them?”

Matt shakes his head and goes back to feeling the braille for the newest case they’re working on. “I’ll be fine.”

“Right.” Foggy stretches the word out and looks over to you. You’re standing by the entrance of Nelson, Murdock and Page arms crossed and giving the both of them a knowing look. 

“It’ll go by faster than you think,” 

Foggy laughs and walks over to the kitchen. “Are you reassuring me or Foggy?” Matt asks.

“Yes.”

“Ha!”

You glance behind you and stick your tongue out at Foggy, he reciprocates.

“But really, it will be okay Matt,” You walk over to him and hug his shoulders. He smiles up towards you and sighs. “I do have a surprise, but you gotta promise me you won’t listen to it unless you miss me.”

Matt raises an eyebrow, “Oh? And what would it be?”

You roll your eyes at him, “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it?”

You reach into your pocket and pull out a beat-up mp3 player. You flip it around in your hand, trying to calm your nerves before holding it out in front of Matt. 

His smile increases as you gently take his hand and put the mp3 player in it. He wants to laugh at how nervous you are, your heartbeat absolutely pounding out of control, it’s so cute.

“Don’t laugh!” You bring a hand up to cover your embarrassment. Maybe a small chuckle did escape, it’s worth it to feel your blood rushing towards your face. You shake your head, trying to clear your head. You glance at the clock on the wall and your breathing increases.

“Oh god, I’m going to be late for the Amtrak.” You mumble. You give Matt a quick peck on his lips before rushing out the front door. 

“I’ll call you once I get to the hotel, or if I get bored on the train.” You wave goodbye and before Matt could say goodbye back you’re gone.

The rest of the day passes by so slowly for Matt that by the time he gets back into his apartment he just wants to hold you in his arms. . .but you’re not home.

He tries his best to shake off the lonely feeling slowly creeping into his chest. It’s been months since you and Matt have been apart for more than a day and he already feels like he’s losing it. 

Matt takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. You were simply going away for work and would be home soon. His phone buzzes and he reaches into his pocket. Opening it up he hears the automated voice tell him, “One new message: Arrived at the hotel and already missing you. Be careful tonight, I love you; heart emoji, devil emoji.”

He smirks and sends an audio message back. “I miss you too Sweetheart. I’ll be sure to give you a call in the morning before I head to court. I love you.”

“Message sent.” The automated voice informs.

Surprisingly while the Devil patrols there isn’t a whole lot of activity that he needs to deal with. A few carjackings here and there as well as a couple of muggers, but thankfully nothing big. Once he gets back to his apartment, Matt starts removing his suit and tries to meditate, but his mind is clouded with thoughts of you though.

Words cannot describe how much he misses your gentle hands grounding him and helping him release the stress from patrolling. He misses the way you would read out whatever story you’re reading that night while he rests his head on your chest, helping him drift off to sleep.

Wait. . . what was on that mp3 player?

He walks over to his bedroom and reaches for his jacket laying on the ground. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the mp3 you gave him earlier in the day. He finds a pair of spare earbuds and sits on the edge of the bed.

Unsure of what he’s going to hear he tentatively presses play and waits.

“Hello Matty! I know I’m going to be gone for a while so I thought to make a couple recordings of what I’m currently reading. If you want I made a recording for 6 chapters that way you can listen to one each night that I’m gone.”

He smiles. He can feel a warm feeling grow in his chest; a reassurance that you will be there to help him no matter what. Your voice rings out starting to read aloud the chapter you were currently reading for your book and as you read aloud you sometimes pause and give your opinions on what’s happening to Matt before getting back into character and reading the story again.

He finished all 6 recordings that night, which you scolded him for once you got back home.

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: NIGHTMARE🐟✨

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Nightmare🌧️

angst babes!!!

Ship: Worst!Logan Howlett x f!Reader

Rating: 16+

Wordcount: 986

Warnings: experimentation, allusions to drowning, needles, nightmares, PTSD struggles, cursing, self-doubt

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

Clear water surrounded him on all sides. Burying him in a freezing, liquid tomb. He was completely submerged. Frigid liquid would be slithering into his lungs if it wasn't for the rebreather firmly lodged between his teeth. Artificial air pumped into his mouth in quick bursts. Opening his eyes resulted in them stinging from the chemicals in the water, so he remained in darkness.

The sounds of the world around him were muffled. Faint discussion filtered through the water like raindrops on a car roof. Snatches of "pulse at 82," "body temperature nominal," "preparing the adamantium now," reached his strained ears. Fists clenched around the metal table beneath him. What was taking so long?

Mechanical whirring buzzed in the water. Like a swarm of angry wasps submerged in a pond. It was hard to tell where the sound was coming from. Waves of harsh droning sped through the water at high velocity. He would have covered his ears if it weren't for the metal restraints firmly holding his wrists to the table.

Dozens of spinning needles stabbed into his skin. Hot poker after hot poker spearing into his flesh and making him cry out into the rebreather. Sparks of absolute agony swirled in the blood leaking from his new wounds. He thrashed against his restraints, desperate to escape from this new torture.

Logan's eyes snapped open as a harsh breath filled his lungs. His pulsed raced in his ears like a galloping horse. Sweat covered his skin in a thin coat. The cotton sheets flew from his body in fistfuls of cloth as he threw them from himself, scrambling to sit at the edge of the bed.

As his bare feet touched the hardwood, chest heaving, he took in his surroundings. Framed pictures of his new life in this universe decorated every available wall and flat surface. Images of parties at Wade and Althea's apartment, Mary Puppins graduating from dog-training, Laura with her new girlfriend. The group of framed pictures on his nightstand were singled out, the photos containing someone he held so dearly the frames were more expensive than the rest.

You.

Stills of you and Logan at a bar getting drinks, you asleep on the couch with Mary Puppins in your lap, you and Wade playing cards when you know he cheats. Your bright smile decorated every frame in a cheerful glow. Always one to make people happy without ever really trying.

A deep, revitalizing breath filled Logan's chest as he scooped up one of the pictures. It was a selfie he had taken a few months ago. You and Logan were on the beach somewhere in California. Teals and greens flowed over your shoulders from the two-piece bathing suit you'd decided to wear that day. Your sunburned arms were wrapped around Logan's shoulders, lips pressed to his cheek as you gave him a laughter-filled kiss. A content smile was stretched across his weathered face.

Logan looked over his bare shoulder to see you. Cuddled under the blankets, mouth slightly parted, deep in sleep. Your hair was lightly tousled from your usual tossing and turning.

How did he ever land himself here? After everything he'd done, or didn't do? How in the fuck did he manage to build this perfect life with you? How did he earn the right to wake up next to you every morning, a sleepy smile playing at your lips as you kissed his forehead, with pure adoration flooding his senses?

The frame glinted in the moonlight as he set it back on his nightstand. Logan's touch lingered on the glass. Wind had blown your hair from the bun you'd secured it in earlier that day. Wisps blew across your closed eyes and had tickled Logan's nose.

"Logan?" came your mumbled whisper. He shifted on the bed until he was facing you. Tired eyes blinked up at him from your place amongst the sheets. Your eyebrows were furrowed, confusion etching into your sleep-addled features.

"Sorry, doll. Nightmare," he cooed quietly. He smoothed his palm along your cheek. Your skin was warm, plush, comfortable. Like holding a peach on a summer's day.

You nuzzled deeper into his hand. A small smile pulled at your lips, "It's okay. Wanna talk about it?"

The question hung heavily around his head. Smoke curled in his mind from where his nightmares originated. Clouded, a monstrous fog that Logan could never quite focus on. It lingered in his mind like storm clouds over a choppy sea. He'd tried to direct his ship toward the tempest, to access his memories, but he'd always sink beneath the waves before he'd reach it.

Doomed to repeat his past every night and to not remember a single thing.

"Nah, I'm alright, sugar. Go back to sleep," he soothed as he brushed a stray hair away from your face. Your hands unburied themselves from the sheets and gripped at his forearm.

"At least hold me until then?" you asked, so damn sweetly. Like the only shelter in the wilderness was in Logan's arms. Like he was safe, someone worth being near when times got tough.

"Of course," he breathed with a sigh. You tugged the sheets down to offer Logan space to envelop you. He dutifully obeyed, sliding under the covers and cradling you to his chest. A content sigh puffed from your lips. He felt your eyes flutter closed as you buried your nose against his neck.

"Love ya, Lo," you slurred into his skin. It was only a few moments before your breathing mellowed out, sleep taking you under its soft wings.

Logan ran his hand up and down your spine. Soft skin ran past his fingertips in fields of heated velvet. The repetitive motion grounded him, reminded him that you were his. He pressed a kiss into the crown of your head.

"I love you, too," he whispered. He knew, unequivocally, that he was yours. Nightmares and all.

i might cry

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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

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

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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?”

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Honest Apology + "I'm in love with you, and that scares 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 7 - Distant

Prompt: 7: Honest Apology + Alt: “I’m in love with you, and that scares me.” Character: Frank Castle Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader Word Count: 2318 Warnings: Break-up fears, referenced near-fatal injury, referenced canon character death, fear of death, fear of loss. Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist

Companion piece to Day 27 - You Are To Me, Day 1 - Why?, and Day 11 - Proof of Life

Distant

You put down your phone. You took a deep breath, shallowing the lump in your throat. You weren’t going to cry. Not here at the coffee shop. You hated crying in public.

Frank hadn’t answered your call. He hadn’t been answering any of your calls. Or your texts. And he hadn’t tried to call back. Not a single word out of him. And you hadn’t seen him either.

You knew he wasn’t dead. Someone would have told you. They wouldn’t let you just sit and worry.

And you didn’t think he had his phone. Or otherwise couldn’t communicate. None of your mutual friends had called or come to see you, asking if you had heard from Frank. Which they would have if he hadn’t contacted any of them for a week.

You didn’t understand. Frank had never done this. While he did have a tendency to slink off to nurse his wounds or illnesses in private, he had always responded to you. Always called or texted back. Likewise he had done some missions where it was too dangerous to contact you until it was over. But he had always warned you about that before he left. This time he hadn’t. He had just left.

Just walked out of the door of the place you shared like it was ordinary morning. With the exception that he hadn’t kissed you good-bye like he usually did . . . and then nothing. You hadn’t see him. You hadn’t hear from him. He had just walked out. Without a single backwards glance. Like you meant nothing.

Tears burned your eyes. You tried to fight them. You weren’t going to cry  . . . you weren’t . . . you weren’t . . .

Something thumped onto the table, startling you. It was a coffee. And sliding into the booth across from you was Karen. She looked concerned.

“Hi Karen,” you said, trying to conjure a smile.

Her worried frown deepened. Apparently your efforts failed to pass muster. Seemed to be pattern.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’re trying not to cry.”

“Nothing,” you lied. “Everything is fine.”

“Lie,” Karen said.

“Is Matt contagious?” You asked. “Should I watch out for signs of ninja syndrome? Are you experiencing the sudden urge to jump out of random windows?”

Your attempt at humor fell as flat as your smile. Karen just looked at you, skeptism mixed with concern. “I don’t need Matt’s ninja skills to know you were lying. But while we were on the topic of Matt, he said you smelled like stress and like you had been crying yesterday.”

Thinking back on it, Matt had seemed more concerned than usual when he asked how you were doing . . . kept asking if you were sure that you were fine. If his recess hadn’t been ending, he probably would have pushed . . . 

You startled again when you were touched. Just Karen again, her hand resting ontop of yours. Her blue eyes full of sympathy and concern. “You know you can tell me. What’s wrong?”

Maybe it was the sympathy in her voice. Maybe it was the geniune worry. Maybe you just really needed someone to talk to. But soon, the whole story came spilling out. About how, about a week after you had gotten out of the hospital, Frank had been . . . different. Quieter, more distant. Obviously stressed about something. He had nightmares. Something had been bothering him but he refused to tell you. Not entirely unusual. Getting Frank to open up sometimes was like pulling teeth. From the mouth of a particularly angry tiger. So you hadn’t thought it worrying, thought that he would talk to you when he was ready. Just like he had before.

Only this time he didn’t. And then he left.

By the time you reached the end of your explanation, you had lost the battle with the tears. Karen had moved to sit next to you, so she could give you a hug. It was one-armed hug because of the booth but you’d take it.

“I’m so sorry,” Karen said, her voice a mixture of sympathy and anger. “I thought something was up with Frank. But I didn’t realize he was pulling this shit.”

“I just don’t understand,” you said. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “My best guess is that it has something with you getting shot. That really scared him.”

“I know,” you said. You remembered the look on his face just before you lost consciousness. The look when you woke up in the hospital. And when the doctor came in to explain just how lucky you were to you and your ‘husband.’ But he had been so attentive when you first got home . . . then it was like a switch had flipped. And all that warmth had disappeared.

“Did anything out of ordinary happen?”

“No,” you said. “The nightmares were bad just before he left but that’s happened before. And he didn’t take off. Might have slept on the couch until they settled down but he stayed.”

You shallowed. “Until now. Only other difference between then and now was that I told him I loved him.”

Karen smiled. It was a sad, little smile. “Finally told him? When?”

“The hospital,” you said. “He wanted to know what the hell I was thinking, pushing him out of the way like that. And I wasn’t . . . There was a gun pointing at the back of the man I love and I just . . . reacted.”

Karen made a thoughtful humming sound. “I’m guessing he didn’t say it back.”

“No,” you said. “Maybe because he doesn’t feel the same way.”

There it was. The truth that you had been trying to avoid. That Frank didn’t feel the same. Oh, he obviously cared about you. He liked you. Found you attractive. But none of that meant he loved you.

“Maybe,” Karen said but she didn’t sound convinced.

You felt a surge of rage. “The fucking coward could at least tell me to my face. Instead of just . . . ghosting me.”

“I agree,” Karen said. “It’s a shitty thing to do . . .”

Then she got that ‘eureka’ look on her face, like all of the puzzle pieces had just clicked together. “I think I know what’s going on. And how to get it fixed.”

“I don’t know if this can be fixed,” you said morosely, feeling very tired. That surge of anger had used up what was left of your energy.

“You’d rather he stay gone?”

“No,” you said. “I love him. I want to be with him forever. Guess he just doesn’t feel that way. I just wish . . . if he doesn’t want to be part of my life anymore, that he’d just say so. It will break my heart even more than it already is but at least I’d know. I deserve that much.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Karen said. “Now let’s get you back home. I’m going to fix this.”

You didn’t mean to doubt Karen. Normally you had every confidence in her brilliant mind and determination to achieve whatever she set out to accomplish. But you weren’t feeling particularly optimistic today.

She must have seen the skepticial look on your face. “Trust me. I’m an expert of getting stupidly stubborn men to remove their heads from their asses.”

***

You should have never doubted Karen. Because two days later, there he was. Standing by your front door with a bakery box in his hand. He at least had the grace to look sheepish and awkward.

“Frank,” you greeted, managing to keep your voice cool and even.

“Sweetheart,” he returned

“Am I?” you asked, a hint of your anger entering your voice. “Because you could have fucking fooled me.”

“You are,” he said, grimacing. “Through I can see why you’d think otherwise.”

He took a deep breath. “May I come in?”

At least he didn’t think he had the right to just waltz right in like nothing had happened. And while the angry, hurt parts of your heart want to shout no, go away before you hurt me again . . . the larger part of your heart, the part that loved Frank enough to take a bullet for him, won. “You may.”

You moved to unlock the door, drawing his attention to the grocery sacks in your hands. He scowled and said, “The docs said no lifting anything above a couple pounds.”

For some reason, this made your blood boil. You glared at him. “That I’m not supposed to pick up the milk jug right now didn’t seem to concern you when you fucking walked out without a goddamn word!”

He grimaced. “You can be pissed at me. You should be. But please, sweetheart, don’t hurt yourself. Let me carry the damn groceries.”

You wanted to argue. The angry, hurt part wanted to insist that you could carry them yourself. That you were fine on your own. That you didn’t help. Especially not from him. But good sense won out. Your injured shoulder was screaming at you, the dull ache growing into something sharp and throbbing over the course of the grocery run.

“Fine,” you said, allowing him to take the bags. You were given the bakery box in exchange. Holding it in your good hand, you let him into your apartment. He refused to let you put anything away, pointing out that even as individual pieces, some of it was still too heavy. You decided not to argue. The idea of raising your arm above your head right now made you want to cry.

Watching him move through your kitchen - the kitchen that you had hoped that he would one day think of as ‘ours’ instead of just ‘yours’ - made the tears prick at your eyes. But you refused to let them fall. Frank had gotten enough tears from you this week.

To distract yourself, you looked into the bakery box he had brought. Inside were two small cakes. One was a blackout cake and the other was chantilly cake with fresh raspberries. You felt your heart skip a beat. You had mentioned that you weren’t sure which cake you wanted for your birthday. You loved both so much. Made a joke about that as soon as you picked one, you’d get a craving for the other one.

An off-hand mention in a conversation from months ago. And he remembered. 

More tears pricked at your eyes, torn on what to feel. He remembered. But he had also abandoned you without a word . . .

“I’m sorry.”

You looked up from the cake, startled. “What?”

He was standing by your counter, his shoulders slumped. Regardless, when he realized that you were looking at him, he meet your eyes. You knew him well enough to see the regret, the remorse on his face. In those big brown eyes. “I’ve been an asshole. Leaving you without sayin’ anything - you’re right. That was the coward’s way and it was a rotten thing to do. You didn’t deserve that. I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” you asked. “Why did you do that? I thought we had a good thing going here.”

He took a deep breath. “Because I’m in love with you, and that scares me.”

You could have been knocked over by a feather. He loved you? Truly? “You love me?”

“Yeah,” he said, fidgeting with a can of peas. “Realized it when you were in the hospital.”

“And this scared you?” You said. “Why?”

“Because I almost lost you!” He shouted, his hand squeezing the can of peas. He took a deep breath, visibly regained control of himself. Put down the now-dented can. “You almost died, sweetheart. I felt your pulse getting weaker and weaker . . . You almost died.”

He swallowed thickly, then added, “You noticed the nightmares?”

“Yeah.”

“In my dreams, the ambulance didn’t make it in time. Or you died in surgery. I could see your body, cold and lifeless, along side . . . . Maria. Over and over again.”

He ducked his head. “You almost died. Because of me. Just sheer dumb luck that you didn’t . . .  like . . . my family. Baby, I can’t do that again. I can’t. I’m not that strong.”

He might be hiding his face but you could hear the tears in his voice. “I can’t lose you too. I can’t. There’s not enough left of my heart to survive that.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. No matter how angry you were, you couldn’t ignore his pain. You walked over and wrapped your good arm around his waist. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. This close, you could feel him shaking. The rapid pulse in his neck. He really was terrified. Truly terrified. “I’m not dead, Frank. I’m alive.”

“This time,” he muttered in your hair. “Next time-”

“There’s no next time. You wouldn’t lose me.”

“You can’t promise me that,” he said. “I wish to God that you could. But you can’t.”

He was right. You hated that he was right. “Then I’ll be more careful. We’ll both be more careful.”

This time, you shallowed hard. Fighting the lump that wanted to lodge in your throat, “Unless you’d rather not risk it. If you want to leave . . .”

It would break your heart in itty, bitty pieces but you’d let him go if you had to. You couldn’t make someone stay who did not want to stay. Not without destroying everything good between you.

His arms tightened.

“No,” he said, his voice thick. “I don’t want to leave you. I love you. I’m terrified. But I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you said. “I accept your apology.”

You more felt than heard the sigh of relief. “I’m still hurt. We’re going to have a very long talk about it. But I love you and I forgive you.”

“Got some groveling to do, don’t I?” You could hear the smile.

“Yes, you do. But that cake is a good start.”

He laughed. It was watery but genuine.

Things were by no means perfect. But as you said, it was a good start.

Author’s Notes

A blackout cake or Brooklyn Blackout cake is a layer chocolate cake filled with chocolate pudding, frosted in chocolate frost, and topped with chocolate cake crumbs.

A Chantilly cake is a layer cake filled with berries and chantilly cream (a type of sweetened whipped cream), frosted win the same cream and topped with fresh berries in a pretty pattern.  In this particular case raspberries but it can be any berries so feel free to imagine different berries.