Latest Posts by tunatober - Page 3

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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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✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: INSOMNIA 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

Insomnia🩸🌧️

some lore for vampire!!!

Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader🩸

Rating: 16+

Wordcount: 2.0k

Warnings: angst, nightmares, PTSD struggles, cursing, alcohol mention, Logan is a Flirt (i guess?)

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

You woke with a start. Heart pounding against your ribs so hard you swore they would crack. Sweat dripped down your forehead and the back of your neck. The pale blue sheets draped across your bed were tangled with every limb they could wrap around.

Wooden walls and antique furniture met your frantic gaze as your eyes darted around the room. Your room. In Charles Xavier's mansion. Where you'd lived for several decades at this point.

The concrete walls of your cell in Washington, DC were a thing of the past. Rust-colored blood stains splashed across the floors, slivers of light leaking through the metal door, spiders making a home in the upper corners. You were free of that life.

So why did you still dream of it?

The muscles in your neck groaned as you sat up against your headboard. You were tense, anxiety oozing into your blood. Your head made a thunk when you let it fall back against the headboard.

Nightmares weren't a foreign concept to you. Almost every night, your mind would be filled with your past. Flashes of pain and terror and blood. Scenes replaying over and over, night after night, tormenting you with long claws digging into your mind and scratching your sanity away.

You needed to walk. To clear your head, to calm your pulse.

Unwinding your legs from the sheets was like pulling the limbs from a nest of angry snakes. You tugged at the fabric in near desperation. It clung to your clammy skin, restricting you, restraining you, keeping you captive.

Breathe.

The memory of Charles's calming voice gave you pause. Your eyes fell closed, a deep breath filling your strained lungs. Air blew from your pursed lips as you released the tension from your shoulders.

You were safe. Nothing could hurt you here. Your friends were here, your kids were here, the life you'd built with bloodied fingernails was here. Scott, Jean, Ororo, and Charles would never let anything happen to you.

Now that the shaking in your fingers had subsided, it was quick work to pull your sheets away. The damp fabric fell away like clouds on a windy day. You pushed yourself to your feet. A tremble ran up your legs, unsteady feet finding purchase on the hardwood floor. You gave yourself a few moments to find your balance.

The cold of the untouched floor seeped into the balls of your feet, grounding you. Bringing you back to the present. You were in the mansion. You were safe. The mantra repeated in your mind as you scooped up your sweatshirt from the end of your bed.

Grey cotton filled your hands. Soft, comfortable, familiar. You wore this sweatshirt nearly every day. Finding solace among the plush fabric that shielded you from your own mind. The fleece interior tickled along your arms as you pulled it on. Like securing a piece of armor, you tugged at the zipper until you were completely encompassed.

You made for the bedroom door as you pulled up the hood. Fabric cradled your head, acting like horse blinders and centering your focus, while your fingers wrapped around the brass knob. Cold metal caressed your palm like a frozen kiss.

Another strained breath forced itself through your lips as you pulled open the door. Empty halls decorated in plush carpets, large vases, and dimmed sconces met your tired eyes. All of the wooden doors lining the hall were shut tight. Made sense, given it was the middle of the night.

Bare feet padded along the patterned carpet as you walked. You kept your focus zeroed in on the design woven into the fibers. Spiraling leaves and floating flowers chased each other across the artwork. Faded reds and golds braided amongst one another. You remembered buying this particular rug. In spring of 1983, when you and Charles had been decorating the mansion together.

The fond memory of your shopping spree with your closest friend kept your thoughts comfortable. You clung to the feeling, holding it close to your chest, as you followed the routine path to your destination. Framed paintings of stretched landscapes passed in your periphery not covered by your sweatshirt's hood.

Moonlight shone in gentle rays through the balcony's glass doors. Silver bounced off the polished hardwood and gave the surrounding space a comforting glow. You grabbed one of the iron door handles and pushed out into the night air.

It was cold. Nearly biting, the breeze blowing across your face in brief nips over your sensitive skin. Barren trees spotted along the vast lawns of the mansion. Just barely green grass flowed in an ocean of waving blades under the moonlight. The empty duck pond was still, the water calm, where it sat far off to your right.

Directly beneath the balcony was the dried-up vegetable garden Jean liked to maintain. The tomato plants had withered earlier in the month, with the green beans and peas following closely after. Winters in New York were not to be trifled with when it came to gardening.

You leaned against the metal railing. Chilled metal dug into the fabric of your sweatshirt and leeched the cold into your skin. Though, it wasn't uncomfortable. It was grounding. A reminder of where you called home now.

There was a special sort of peace to be found on this balcony. Especially since during the colder months, it often went untouched. The small table and chair off to your left remained vacant for the vast majority of fall and winter. Not many students preferred the view from the balcony over the comfort of the common areas.

Crisp air filled your lungs as you took in your first deep breath. It poured down your throat like cool water, pooling in your chest and spreading through your body. Tendrils of gentle water ran under your skin. Telling you that you were safe, that you were home, that you were loved. The night air often was the exact thing you'd needed to calm your mind.

It seemed easy to forget your past, now that the comforting chill coursed through your body. Days spent locked away from the world were distant memories. Like glimpses of another life through a thick fog. Flashes of chains and blood were tucked safely away behind a wall of moonlight.

"Mind if I join you?"

You spun on your heel to face this intrusion. This brutal slash through the comforting silence you'd so carefully cultivated.

Logan stood in the open doorway. Sweatshirt that matched yours clinging to his chest, jeans hung low on his waist, dark hair styled in those two points that reminded you of cat ears. A playful smirk tugged at his lips.

"Why?" was all that could escape your throat in your startled state. Your palms dug into the rail as you squeezed at the metal behind you.

The smirk remained firmly in place as Logan sauntered through the doorway. His hands were clutched behind his back, the top of his sweatshirt unzipped to expose his bare chest, hazel eyes catching in the moonlight as he looked at you with faint curiosity.

"Figured you could use some company, seeing's as you're out here on your own an' all," he replied easily. He kept a healthy distance from you as he approached. Long fingers trailed over the table's surface, dragging freshly-formed drops of dew in their wake.

You chuckled lightly in an attempt to mask your wariness, "Trying to make friends on your first day?"

"Something like that," he said softly, stepping up next to you near the railing. Thick arms rested on the iron as Logan mimicked your earlier position. One leg crossed over the other, chest leaning on bent elbows, half-lidded eyes surveying the landscape.

Mirroring him, you turned back to the vegetable garden. Wooden stakes jutted up from the earth like small saplings. Dry brush and long-rotted vegetables lay strewn inside the dirt beds.

An easy silence rested between you, disturbed only by the wind rustling the barren branches of nearby trees. Undeniable warmth spread from the man next to you. Like he was a furnace placed on the balcony to make anyone taking in the view nice and cozy. You could nearly feel the heat spreading from his arms and into the railing beneath you.

"You get nightmares too, huh?" Logan finally asked after several quiet minutes. It wasn't unkind, they way he phrased the question. It was more curious. An offering of relation between the two of you.

"Most nights," you answered simply. A low hum of recognition rumbled deep in his chest.

"Every night, for me. Can never remember them, though," he said with a sigh. You noticed the repetitive tap of his pointer finger on the back of his hand. Nervous tick, maybe.

"Seems we're both pretty fucked up," you joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. Logan barked a quiet laugh.

"You could say that again."

The kinship you felt with him was like nothing you'd ever felt before. From what Jean had discovered earlier, Logan couldn't age. Neither could you. Logan had a troubled past he couldn't fully remember. You had a troubled past, but one you remembered all too well. Logan was the product of experimentation and years of heartache. You were the result of decades under the thumb of the U.S. government, forced to torture POWs during WWII.

Maybe there was finally someone who could understand you. Understand what you've been through.

Charles did the best he could. He was the only one in the mansion anywhere near as old as you. Unfortunately, you still had 27 years on the great Professor X.

"Do they have alcohol in this place?" Logan grumbled with a tired groan. His head fell to rest on his forearms. You couldn't help but laugh.

"Not readily available to newcomers, bud. Play your cards right and you may be shown the secret stash," you said with a dramatic whisper. Logan's shoulders shook with a chuckle, shaking his head where it laid on his arms.

"And what cards would those be? We talkin' blackjack, poker, or go fish?" he replied as he straightened his back. Hazel eyes connected with your own. A spark of familiarity flashed in your mind.

Conversation flowed so damn easily with Logan. It was like talking to your reflection. A male, ruggedly handsome, 6'2" without shoes reflection. The sense of relaxation you felt around this man you'd met this morning wasn't a fact to be taken lightly.

Was this part of his mutation? Getting others to trust him? It wouldn't be too far out of left field. Hell, you could pop people like balloons with your mutation. Manipulating others' emotions wasn't that strange of an idea.

"Y'alright, doll? Suddenly got quiet," Logan asked softly, breaking you away from your swirling thoughts.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Sorry, I just... Zone out sometimes," you explained quickly in one breath.

You jumped as a warm hand landed on your shoulder. Strong, heat bleeding from the large palm into your skin. An involuntary shiver rocketed up your spine.

"Seems like I ain't the only one needing a drink," Logan said with a small smile. The effortless kinship that emanated from him was nearly intoxicating. Reeling you in on an invisible fishing line. Clouding your judgement with a haze of quickly developing trust.

You should pull away. Nothing good could come from falling into friendship this fast. Decades of being a mutant had taught you that intentions weren't always what they'd seemed. A person could be offering you a hand only to shove you into oncoming traffic.

"Know what? A drink sounds great right now," you murmured as you stepped back. Logan's hand fell from your shoulder like a dead weight. You turned on your heel to lead him inside.

Maybe if you pumped this guy full of liquor, you'd be able to tell where his head was at. Why was he being so nice to you? Especially after you'd heard how he'd acted around Scott? You hugged your rapidly chilling sweatshirt closer to your body.

Logan Howlett. "The Wolverine." You'd get to the heart of what made him tick soon enough.

and she doooooes >:) i LOVE my babies so much. exploring their relationship in its entirety is SO FUCKING FUN!!!

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Day 3 - Broken

Prompt: 3 - Broken + 5 - Self-Loathing + 18 - Scars Character: Sam Winchester Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader Word Count: 505 Warnings: Self-loathing, negative self-talk, referenced injury Tags: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland Tuna-Tober Masterlist 2024

Broken

Sam Winchester slipped out of the bed, careful not to wake you. Just because he was too broken to sleep properly didn’t mean you should be deprived of sleep. Especially not for him. You had already given up too much for him.

He still didn’t understand it. Why had you give up your safe, normal life for him? To risk your life hunting monsters for people who would never know or understand your sacrififce. Who would deny all the blood shed in their name. To endure the estrangement of your family and old friends just to join him and Dean on this cursed road. Why?

He understood why Dean did it. He was just as cursed as Sam. There was no escaping this road. Not for them. They had both tried. And Dean was his big brother. He had always tried to protect him. No matter how tired or angry with him that Dean was - and times he had been very much both of those things - he’d never leave Sam to face the world’s evil alone.

Not you. You could have that apple pie life. You could live in a beautiful little house filled with the books and plants that you loved. Not a musty old bunker between a series of cheap hotels. You could have a boyfriend who wasn’t broken. Someone with a real job that could take you out on nice dates. Not a monster who dragged you into the shadows and made you bleed.

It might not be his own two hands that hurt you but it was his fault. You’d never gotten those scars if you had never met him. The obvious ones like the claw marks across your back. But also the invisible ones, the wounds left in the soul by fear and devastating loss.

Without him . . . you’d be safe. Whole. Happy. In love with someone who could put a pretty ring on your finger without fear. Instead of someone who feared putting an even bigger target on your back. Who couldn’t even ask you if you wanted children because he was too terrified of the answer.

You deserved better. Someone worthy of your love. Not a tattered patchwork of a man covered in scars visible and invisible.

But one of his numerous flaws that he was selfish. So when your arms wrapped around him, he couldn’t push you away. He was too greedy to reject the comfort of your body against his. He craved your affection, the pretty words you told him (I’m here . . . I’ve got you, Sammy . . .  I love you . . . you’re a good man, Sam Winchester. I know you don’t want to believe me but you are . . .)

He wanted you to be right. He wished he had your faith that one day, he’d believe those words. He wanted that so badly. It would be so easy to give in.

But Sam was done lying to himself. You deserved better than him. And while he was too selfish to give you up, he was never going to forget that.

Author's Note

This is my first time writing Sam so please let me know what you think.

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✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: SOMNOPHILIA 🐟✨

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Day 3 - Sleeping Beauty

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

Sleeping Beauty

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: ROLE REVERSAL🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

On Your Knees, Devil

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 6k [Tuna-Tober Masterlist]

Tuna-Tober Prompt: Role Reversal

Warnings/tags: 18+; pure filthy smut, dom!Reader/sub!Devil, smidge of roughness (very slight), fingering, f!oral receiving, cocky Matt and mouthy Devil (they definitely need a warning)

Summary: You've never been one to take control in the bedroom–until tonight, when you're determined to draw out the Devil and make him submit to you.

a/n: I was unhinged the week when I wrote this, and I'll admit, it's a bit different from my usual smut. Enjoy the filth. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

“Oh come on,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Now you're just being cocky.”

Matt smirked at you from his place on the leather couch, sinking deeper back into the cushions as he spread his legs further apart. “I'm just being honest with you, sweetheart,” he replied, casually tossing an arm over the backrest. “You couldn't handle the Devil, and you certainly wouldn't be able to bend him to your will.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you arched a brow at Matt from across the coffee table. You could feel your frustration rising the more he kept dismissing you.

“How would you know?” you questioned. “You've never been with anyone as the Devil before, Matt. Because none of your previous flings ever knew your big secret like I do.”

“Sweetheart,” Matt began, his smirk growing wider, “you're far too soft spoken in the bedroom. Loud in other ways but–and I don't want you to take this wrong–you just…would not be able to handle that side of me. Especially not with you being the one in control.”

“You don’t know that,” you scoffed.

He shot you a pointed look, his head tilting to the side. Your jaw clenched at the sight of it.

“You’ve never been in that role before, sweetheart,” he said. “If you want to play out whatever’s in your head with me, then I’m all for it. But we’re not bringing that side of me into this. Certainly not like that.”

“Why not?” you demanded.

Matt sighed, leaning back into the leather of the couch. “It’s just not that simple. You don’t have any experience and you want to just immediately go straight to controlling the Devil? That’s…a little out of your league, sweetheart.”

Your eyes narrowed back at him, your spine straightening as his words only further increased your determination. Matt was clearly picking up on the subtle shifts in your body, and each one only seemed to grow that arrogant smirk on his face. A smirk you wanted to wipe from his lips with each passing second.

“What’s the harm in letting me try?” you asked, voice darkening.

The corners of Matt’s lips twitched at your tone, clearly catching your growing irritation. “The harm, sweetheart,” he began, his response already grating on your nerves, “is that if you don’t know what you’re doing, this could all go down in a way that we both regret. The Devil isn’t…he’s not just some costume I throw on. He’s–he’s a part of me. A darker part of me.”

“I know, Matt,” you told him. “I’ve been with you for almost a year. I’ve met the Devil. On many occasions and in many different moods. I know exactly who the Devil is and I've always wanted that side of you just as much as this one.”

Over on the couch, Matt expelled a long sigh. “I know we’ve been together for awhile, and yes, you’ve seen that side of me. And I love that you still love me despite that–”

“In spite of it,” you muttered. “I love all of you.”

Matt grinned at your comment before he continued, “But you still don’t have any experience in this area. And I just–just don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to ‘let the Devil out’ as you called it.”

For a moment you stood there, eyeing Matt so casually sprawled out on the leather couch. He couldn’t look any more smug with the way he was practically taking up the whole piece of furniture, his lips still quirked into an arrogant smirk. As you stood there staring at him, an idea gradually began to form in your mind.

“So you won’t just let the Devil out,” you began slowly, studying him closely, “but would you be opposed to me drawing him out myself?”

Matt’s lips twisted into something like a smile before he regained his composure, almost as if he was about to laugh at the idea. A heat flamed within you at the sight, your resolve to tame the Devil only growing by the second.

“And how do you plan to do that?” he asked, amused. “Are you going to rob a bank to lure him out? Mug someone on the street, sweetheart?”

He chuckled at the thought, a deep rumbling sound. The noise had your hands curling into fists where they were crossed over your chest but you fought back your annoyance. You knew he wouldn’t be laughing for long.

“I asked you a question and I expect an answer,” you demanded.

Matt’s amusement quickly subsided at the seriousness in your tone, his own eyes narrowing back at you. A muscle jumped in his cheek before he spoke.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Matt replied. “If you can manage to draw the Devil out, I'll let you. You think you can handle the situation? Then by all means, you can go ahead and try.”

Arching a brow at Matt, you uncrossed your arms, sensually sliding one hand down your body to the waistband of your sleep shorts. Two fingers toyed with the edge of it, your focus on Matt. 

“You think I can't?” you challenged back. 

Matt's eyes darkened, his unseeing gaze seemingly following the path of your hand as it had traveled down your body. You had his attention now, at least.

“You think that's going to draw out the Devil?” he goaded. “You think that's enough to do it?”

Your hand slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts, your fingers gently running back and forth along your cunt over your panties. Your breath hitched just before you caught the slight flare of Matt's nostrils–exactly what you were looking for. 

“I think I know more than you realize,” you told him.

Matt's eyes further narrowed back at you, his arm lowering from the back of the couch as he leaned forward, his smirk gradually shrinking. You definitely had his attention now. 

“And just what do you think you know, sweetheart?” he shot back.

Squaring your shoulders, aware of the dampness that had begun to soak through your panties, your fingers continued running along yourself. “I know the scent of me makes you lose your mind,” you stated.

Matt's lip twitched at the corners, his nostrils flaring even more sharply at your words. You were right and he damn well knew it.

“And I know you can hear how wet I'm becoming right now,” you continued. “I can see how it's affecting you. You can’t hide that from me.”

“You're going to need to do a hell of a lot more than that if you want the Devil,” he countered. 

Slipping your fingers into your panties, you grinned back at Matt as you ran them between your damp folds. “Oh, I know.”

Judging by the way he was shifting on the couch, his nostrils repeatedly flaring as his hands gripped the cushions, you could tell he was inhaling the scent of you. You'd been with Matt plenty of times to know exactly what your arousal did to him, but there was one thing that had never happened before, one thing you had never done. 

Matt had never been denied a taste or a simple touch before. Until now.

“I told you earlier–I want the Devil tonight Matt,” you reminded him. “On his knees and at my feet.”

Matt huffed out a laugh, his gaze briefly flickering to the floor in front of you before it returned to where your fingers were still running back and forth delicately through your damp folds. You knew he could hear the wet sounds they were making and you knew the scent of your arousal in the air was only increasing with every pass of your fingers.

“You're playing a dangerous game, sweetheart,” Matt warned you. 

“I know what I'm doing,” you replied.

“Do you?” he asked.

You slid your fingers towards your soaked entrance, your other hand sliding up beneath your shirt. The tips of your fingers barely grazed the underside of your breast and you saw Matt's grip tighten on the couch.

“If you want a taste,” you told him slowly, enunciating each word, “or a touch, Matt, you'll do what you're told. Otherwise you get nothing tonight. You hear me? Nothing.”

Matt’s lip curled back into a partial sneer at your words, his gaze somehow darkening even more at the thought. He clearly didn’t like the idea of you denying him the opportunity to pleasure you, let alone denying him a simple taste–something you’d already guessed he’d be exceptionally unhappy to hear. 

“You wouldn’t,” he ground out.

“You can listen to me take care of myself, I’ll let you do that,” you continued, your hand snaking its way up to tweak a nipple as Matt’s lip tugged further back into a snarl. “But when I’m done and I fall asleep in bed afterwards, I know you'll still be awake smelling the scent of me lingering all over the apartment. And while I’m contentedly dreaming, you'll be laying there in bed as the sounds I made–that you love so much–replay over and over in your mind.”

Matt sat stiff on the couch, his elbows now resting along his knees as he leaned forward towards you. His head was cocked even further to the side, his lips still drawn back into a snarl that was bordering on animalistic at your words. His control over the Devil was slipping, that much you could see already. Though it wasn’t Matt that would be your biggest fight, you knew that, but you were certainly thrilled at the sight of him like this. The challenge of bringing the Devil to his knees next was only increasing the dampness pooling between your thighs.

“Really trying to push me over the edge, aren’t you?” he gritted between his teeth.

Slipping two fingers finally into yourself, you loosed a soft sigh at the sensation. On the couch, Matt struggled to contain himself as you slowly pumped your fingers into yourself, your hand on your breast tugging at your nipple. Matt’s knuckles almost turned white as he gripped the cushions tighter.

“Give me the Devil, Matt,” you demanded. “Stop holding back already.”

Visibly teetering on the edge of entirely losing his composure, Matt’s lip began to repeatedly twitch. A deep rumble vibrated in his chest at your words and you knew he was close to losing his control. 

“Careful there, sweetheart,” he warned.

Pressing the heel of your hand against your clit, a jolt of pleasure shot through you as you sunk your fingers deeper inside. Matt lurched to the edge of the couch cushion now, his body tensed and ready to pounce. He needed a nudge, just a little one, and then you’d have him.

“Let the Devil out, Matt,” you pressed.

The look on his face in conjunction with what you were already doing to yourself had the quietest little moan slip out of your lips. And that was all it took. 

Matt’s demeanor shifted instantly. His eyes darkened to something predatory and dangerous before he launched himself off of the leather couch. An excited thrill shot through your body as he took just three brief strides to close the distance between you. And then he was standing before you, one hand darting out lightning quick before his fingers were tightly gripping you by the chin and tilting your face up towards his.

“You wanted the Devil, sweetheart?” he growled out in that familiar gravely tone. “You got him.”

“I said no touching,” you reminded him, your fingers pausing their movements as you stared back at him.

“Do you think I care about your rules?” he challenged. “Your body is begging for me right now. I can hear it.”

“No, it's not,” you disagreed, shaking your head in his hold. “And I know you'll follow my rules because I know you'd never do anything that I don’t consent to.  And right now, I didn't say you could touch me, Devil.”

Frustration and annoyance flashed in his eyes as they focused on your mouth while you spoke. His teeth noticeably ground together, his fingers still gripping your chin. You arched an eyebrow at him, knowing full well no matter the situation, Matt would never pass one of your boundaries–even as the Devil. Another moment passed before the Devil growled in aggravation, his fingers abruptly releasing you before his hand dropped back to his side. A shudder of pride burned in you as he did. He wasn’t on his knees yet, but you were positive you'd get him there.

“Fine,” he spat. “I won’t touch you. But don’t think for a second you’re the one in control here.”

With a pleased grin on your lips, you slid your two fingers out from inside of yourself before removing them from your panties. The Devil’s head snapped down towards your hand, tracking its movement as you held up the two glistening fingers in the space between you both. He was almost immobile now, completely fixated on your fingers.

“Every time we’ve been together,” you began in a hushed tone, reveling in the way he was locked on to your fingers, “you always like to call me yours. ‘My good girl,’” you repeated. “So tonight, I want you to be my good little Devil.”

“Think I’m some pet to tame?” he ground out between his teeth. “Think you can control me?”

“Oh, I know exactly how you operate,” you assured him, watching the way he was still focused on your fingers. You knew the scent of your arousal so close to his face was taking every bit of his willpower to hold back from sucking your digits into his mouth. “Those senses of yours can get overwhelmed, and you’ve never been the most patient. Doesn’t help that I can see how much the scent of me is affecting you. You want a taste don’t you, Devil?”

A low growl reverberated through his chest in response. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as his gaze never wavered. Satisfied at his answer, you drew the fingers up to your mouth and slipped them inside, your tongue lapping over them instead of his. You grinned when another deep, irritated rumble vibrated in his chest. You knew you were beginning to do more than frustrate him now.

Slowly you slid the fingers back out of your mouth, enjoying the irritation evident on his face. His body was tense with his restraint, struggling to resist the urge to just tear your clothing off and have you. The thought that he knew he couldn't was incredibly exhilarating. 

“Think you can keep teasing and taunting me without any consequences?” he questioned sharply. “You're pushing me, sweetheart.”

“Mmm, I think,” you hummed out as you turned towards the bedroom, “that you're all bark and no bite. You've got absolutely nothing to use against me tonight because there's only one thing I want.”

You gradually began to make your way to the bedroom, grinning when you heard his soft footsteps following after you. He was honed in on you now, his attention fixed. You just had to outlast his stubbornness and you'd have him.

“You really think you've got the upper hand here,” he asked, voice dark and low. 

Pausing halfway to the bed, you glanced over your shoulder and saw him stop directly in the doorway. His expression was almost pained beneath his scowl.

“Well you're already following me like a dog,” you teasingly pointed out. “Leaves me to wonder what you think you could possibly tempt me with?”

The Devil's face darkened at your question, a devious smirk curling his lips upwards. “I can give you an entire evening of pleasure like you've never experienced before, sweetheart,” he promised. “Stop this little game now and I'll push your body past its limits until you can hardly feel it anymore. I can make you forget your own name for a few hours. You know I can.”

Walking the rest of the way to the bed, you felt a rush of warmth flood you at his words. You'd never slept with Matt when he was like this before, but you'd always been tempted. You were curious to know what the Devil would be like in the bedroom after all the times you'd seen him come home worked up from patrol, but despite how enticing his offer was, it still wasn’t what you wanted.

“The only thing I want,” you repeated carefully as you sat down on the end of the bed and faced him, “is you right here on your knees doing what I tell you to. And I know you can hear the truth in my words.”

You pointed at the ground in front of your feet, accentuating what you'd said. Another flash of frustration shone back at you in his eyes as his smirk entirely disappeared. His jaw tightened once more, determination to fight you still written across his face. Despite his rigid posture and the way he remained in the doorway, you noticed how he'd gone temporarily quiet. The knowledge that he had no leverage, no way to tease you and distract you, had him closer to breaking. You could feel it.

“Still need more encouragement?” you asked coyly.

Hands grabbing onto both your shorts and your underwear, you gradually pushed them down your legs before tossing them carelessly off to the side of the bed. The Devil’s hands began to clench and unclench at his sides but he didn't move from his place in the threshold. With your lower half now exposed, the unobstructed scent of your arousal was likely driving him mad. Lightly resting your hand along your stomach, the tips of your fingers just barely brushed the sensitive bundle of nerves as you settled in to give him the last few pushes over the edge.

“You have two options, Devil,” you told him, watching his nostrils sharply flaring back at you. “You can stand there and keep fighting me and I'll happily get off on my own just watching you. Or you can tell me that you'll be my good little Devil and I'll let you help me.”

A dangerous snarl tore out of his chest at your second option. The sound sent a delicious wave of arousal through your body, your skin practically humming in response. But he still didn't answer, continuing to remain silent. His lack of response had you grinning, especially when you caught the bulge now poking through his gray sweatpants.

“That your choice then?” you asked.

Fingers moving down a fraction, you began to gently draw circles over your clit. A soft, pleased sigh slipped out of your lips as you lowered back onto the bed, resting on one elbow. Eyes falling shut, you focused on pleasuring yourself, enjoying the fact that he was still standing in the doorway focused on you while you did. 

“You're not going to get off right in front of me,” he snapped.

You opened your eyes, attention returning to him by the door. He'd taken a single step into the bedroom now, that pained expression becoming further visible on his face. That one step said more than he realized.

“I'll finish without you,” you warned him with a sly grin. “Show you how little I need you.”

Back arching along the bed, you caught the second step he took towards you as a feral snarl tore through the bedroom. Your finger began to move a little quicker as you added a bit more pressure along your clit, your breath coming in sharper.

“I'm not going to make this easy for you,” he growled.

Laughing lightly, your eyes fell shut once more as a shudder raced up your spine. It was an empty threat and you both knew it.

“Not a damn thing you can do, Devil,” you told him, breath coming in quick pants as another surge of pleasure raced through you. “You're not allowed to touch. Not until you–” 

Your sentence broke off on a soft moan, the noise loud in the otherwise silent bedroom. With your eyes still closed, you could almost feel his senses raking over you, taking in the racing of your heart, the scent of your arousal, the blood rushing through your body, the flush in your cheeks. 

“Not until you agree to be my good little Devil,” you finished, eyelids fluttering back open.

He’d taken another step closer now, standing barely two feet away from you. His jaw was tensed, his teeth grinding back and forth as the muscle repeatedly jumped in his cheek. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, his shoulders drawn up to his neck. You could hear his sharp breaths each time his nostrils flared now. Biting your lip, you tilted your head to the side as you once more slid your fingers through your damp folds, teasing your entrance. The sensation had your eyes almost closing, but you fought to keep them open, watching as he almost took another step closer.

“Last chance, Devil,” you told him. “Come here or I'll finish without you.”

A dark, almost guttural growl tore straight out of his chest in sheer frustration. Removing your hand from yourself, you sat up on the edge of the bed. His unseeing gaze once more snapped directly down towards your damp fingers, his tongue yet again darting out along his lips hungrily. 

“Come here, Devil,” you ordered. 

An almost imperceptible whine slipped out of his lips before he grudgingly closed the remaining distance between you both. You smiled at the sight, realizing he was on the cusp of submitting–even if reluctantly. Leaning closer towards him, you reached your hand up to his face. His sightless eyes managed to track the movement almost perfectly until you’d gripped him by the chin, your fingers intentionally near his mouth but not remotely touching it. A rough grunt fell out of him at your touch, his eyes narrowing back at you.

“You’re going to regret this later,” he warned. “I can promise you that, sweetheart.”

“We’ll see about that, Devil,” you murmured, still holding his chin. “But for now, you need to do what you’re told.”

His lip twitched in response, his eyes glaring darkly at you. Biting your lip, you gave a little tug downwards on his chin.

“On your knees, Devil,” you ordered.

A deep, rumbling snarl slipped out of his lips at your order and the way you’d tugged his chin, but you held your ground as you sat on the edge of the bed. Seconds passed as he stood there towering over you, a fire burning in his eyes that was a mix of desire, need, and sheer agitation. But then gradually, ever so slowly, you saw him finally and reluctantly sink down to his knees before you, his lips still curled back into a frustrated sneer. A slow, triumphant smile spread across your mouth as you continued to hold his chin firmly between your wet fingers.

“Are you going to be my good little Devil?” you asked.

“Enjoy this moment while you can,” he growled up at you. “Because it’s never happening again, sweetheart. I’ll have you on your knees–”

“Are you going to be my good little Devil?” you questioned more firmly, cutting him off mid sentence.

An irate growl rumbled in his throat. “Is it necessary to call me that?”

“Answer the question,” you ordered.

His eyes narrowed further back at you, his hands slowly coming up to rest along the bed on either side of your hips. A shudder ran through you as he gripped the mattress tight, your cunt clenching around air at the sight of him like this before you. His attention immediately snapped down to the space between your thighs, an almost choked noise getting caught in his throat.

“Yes,” he ground out.

Releasing his chin, you slowly set both of your legs over his shoulders before leaning back and resting your elbows along the bed. You stared down at him, comfortable on the bed as he sat gnawing on his bottom lip just before you, his sightless eyes staring longingly at one part of your body in particular. 

“That’s my good little Devil,” you praised.

A sharp grunt met your words and you grinned. He might’ve been irritated, but he was technically still obeying. 

“Do you want to get me off?” you asked him. “Is that what you want?”

“I want to make you feel so good you can’t do anything but scream,” he snarled back. “Want to hear that pretty little mouth crying up there. Show you how much you do need me, sweetheart.”

“Watch yourself, Devil,” you warned. “You’re getting a little too feisty down there.”

“What did you expect?” he snapped. “This is the closest thing you’re going to get to what you want with me. You can’t tame me. Can’t control me.”

Your eyes narrowed at his challenge. “Yeah? Take one taste, Devil. Go on.”

With his hands gripping the bed tighter on either side of your hips, he leaned in and swiped the flat of his tongue entirely up the length of you, as if trying to taste as much of you as he could. Your eyes snapped shut the second he’d touched you, the sound of his throaty groan cutting straight through the bedroom. Opening your eyes a second later, you saw his own eyes had closed, his face contorted into a mix of pleasure and pain before he released a long, low growl.

“You want more?” you whispered down to him.

His eyes snapped open at your voice, their focus finding your chin. He blinked a few times, his expression wavering between bliss and frustration.

“Yes,” he ground out.

“You’re going to be my good little Devil then, do you understand?” you asked.

“Yes,” he grunted.

“That’s a good little Devil,” you replied. “Fingers first. Prove you can behave, then maybe I’ll let you use your mouth.”

A frustrated noise rumbled in his chest in response, but he didn’t argue back this time. Instead, one of his hands released his tight grip along the bed before he lifted it over your leg and left it hovering in front of your soaked entrance. His lips twitched again before his tongue slipped out, gliding along the length of his bottom lip. A jolt of excitement raced through you at the sight, anticipation of what was about to happen taking hold of you as you held your breath, awaiting his touch.

Two of his thick fingers finally began to slide back and forth delicately along your entrance, teasing you just a little as your arousal gathered along his fingertips. Then slowly he slid them up through your folds towards your clit with a faint groan of pleasure. With the slightest pressure, he began lightly tracing the exact patterns to immediately cause your hips to squirm along the bed. A satisfied rumble met your ears as your eyes fell shut and your breath came in faster.

His other hand released the bed, grabbing the thigh resting along his shoulder in a tight vice as he yanked you further towards him. A surprised gasp flew out of you as you slid forward on the bed, your eyes reopening at the movement. You’d been about to chastise him for what he’d just done, but the sight of the devilish grin on his lips had your mouth momentarily going dry. As much as you wanted to appear confident in this situation, you couldn’t deny that the Devil was certainly a challenge, even if he was mostly obeying you now.

After a moment, his fingers traveled back down towards your entrance, the sensitive bundle of nerves above still desperate for his attention. But instead he slipped a single digit inside of you, sinking it in as far as it could go. Your breath hitched in response, your hips raising just a fraction off of the bed. The Devil immediately pushed you back down with the hand gripping your thigh, holding you still on the mattress.

“I want more,” he growled.

His eyes darted up to you as his finger began to pump in and out of you, the wet squelch with each thrust loud even to you. Your heart was hammering in your chest, your body begging to reach your climax after everything that had been leading up to this moment.

“And I can tell you do, too,” he said. “Don’t deny it.”

“Bit–bit mouthy for one who’s supposed to be behaving,” you stammered out, the continued waves of pleasure causing your mind to cloud. 

“I want a taste,” he shot back, his finger pumping a bit more roughly into you as he said it. “I’m doing what you want, sweetheart. Now give me what I want.”

Your eyelids fluttered as he stuck a second finger inside, his pace moving agonizingly slow on purpose. Struggling to focus, you tried to formulate a coherent thought, but it was difficult to do with his hot breath washing over you as he worked.

“That sounded more like a command, Devil,” you replied, trying your best to stay focused. “Try that again.”

A frustrated rumble sounded in the room, mixing with the wet sounds of his fingers fucking you. Your breath was coming in shallower now, your body getting closer and closer to your climax. You knew he could tell, and you knew he’d do what you wanted before you came. Because you knew he’d want his mouth on you when you did.

His eyes closed as his head snapped to the side. A look of distaste crossed his features before he spoke. “Let me use my mouth…please.”

Your cunt tightened around his fingers when you heard the Devil actually beg you. The power you felt at that one word alone almost had you toppling over the edge, but you fisted the sheets in your hands and tried to hold on a bit longer.

“That’s–that’s my good little Devil,” you breathed out. “You ask, you don’t–don’t demand.”

The sound of his irritated growl broke on a whine this time and your eyes darted straight to him. His fingers were still sinking into you repeatedly, but it seemed as if his composure was breaking the wetter you were becoming.

“Please,” he ground out. “Let me get you there. The way I know your body is begging for it.”

Your breath hitched at his unexpected and sincere plea, but you found yourself wanting a little more. “Ask again,” you demanded, trying to keep your voice even.

“Let me taste you,” he began, his usually husky, dark tone laced with growing desperation. “Please, let me–let me take care of you how I know you need it. Please.”

Struggling to keep your orgasm from crashing into you, you nodded quickly. “Yes, use–use your mouth,” you whispered back.

The Devil didn’t even wait for you to finish your sentence before his face had lunged forward, his plush lips sucking your sensitive clit right into his mouth. The sensation had a sharp cry flying out of you, your head falling back over your shoulders. He began frantically sucking on your clit, his teeth lightly grazing it at one point. The sensation caused you to hiss in pleasure, your hips fighting against his hold on you. But as his fingers inside of you never ceased their movements, relentlessly fucking into you over and over, his other hand had slid up your thigh and over your stomach. His thick, single muscular arm was holding you firm to the mattress as he brought you even closer to the brink. 

Your body felt like it was on fire with sheer pleasure, your back fighting his hold to arch along the mattress as your eyes had begun to roll back. You were close, so incredibly close. And that’s when you caught the sound of his hungry, vexed growls against your clit turning into high-pitched whines. Struggling to keep your focus, your breath repeatedly catching in your throat as you fisted the bed sheets tighter in your holder, you glanced down at the Devil. From your angle you couldn’t see much, but it almost looked as if he was struggling from rutting against the bed. The sight had a curse slipping out of your lips at just how desperate and aroused he was himself.

“Doing–alright–down there?” you panted out.

You were growing dizzy at the sensations his tongue and his fingers were giving you, your entire body feeling like it was vibrating. The Devil only responded with something like a choked moan, the sound muffled against you as he continued to diligently and determinedly get you off. That needy, desperate sound coming from the Devil–the same one criminals feared in Hell’s Kitchen’s streets–as he fought the urge to rut against the bed just from the taste of you, from the sounds your body was making in his ears, had you immediately hitting your peak.

One hand releasing the bed sheets, you reached out and gripped his forearm so tight your nails dug into his skin. He hissed against you just as your head fell limp over your shoulders, your eyes closing as your mouth went slack. A long, low moan gradually tore out of you just as you reached your climax. You felt the Devil slip his fingers out, instead using those against your clit as he worked you through your release. His mouth had latched onto your cunt, lapping at your release like a starved man. The bedroom around you filled with his strangled moans of pleasure and the wet, hungry licks of his tongue against you. 

Body suddenly heavy, you sunk down into the mattress, your eyes blinking blankly up at the ceiling. Below you, the Devil’s movements had gradually begun to take an obvious shift. You felt soft, gentle laps at your entrance before his wet mouth was gently kissing and nuzzling at your inner thighs. Struggling to sit upright on the bed, you glanced down to see Matt’s half-lidded eyes as he continued nuzzling against your leg. Reaching a hand out, you gently began to card your fingers through his hair as you tried to catch your breath.

“Matty? You good?” you asked.

“Mmm,” he hummed out, planting another kiss against your skin. “Yes. You–you taste so good.”

You smiled softly down at him, your hand coming to lightly tap the arm he still had resting along your stomach. “Hey, come up here,” you whispered.

He gently kissed your thigh once more before he sluggishly rose to his feet. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the damp patch soaking the front of his sweatpants, your eyebrows rising. 

“Matty, did you…?”

Sinking into the mattress beside you, Matt wrapped his arms around your waist and drew you towards himself with a huff. He buried his face into your shoulder, his eyes closing.

“I…guess I underestimated you,” he murmured into your skin. “That was–” he paused, teeth lightly nipping your shoulder. “I like you like that.”

“Oh you do, do you?” you teased back.

“Mhmm,” he hummed.

You grinned, resting your cheek against the top of his head as you tried to catch your breath. “We should probably get cleaned up, though,” you whispered.

Matt burrowed closer to your neck, releasing a soft sigh. “Mmm, in a minute, sweetheart,” he replied. “Let me just–just recover first.”

You laughed lightly, one hand gently resting along his thigh that was nestled beside your bare one. “Alright, my good little Devil,” you teased. 

Matt’s lips pulled into a smile against your shoulder at the praise, a soft, contented hum vibrating in his throat. You had a feeling that after tonight he wouldn’t fight you so much the next time you asked for the Devil.

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @millennial-birkin @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1 @scriptedmoon @lucienofthelakes @sarahskywalker-amidala @flowher @loves0phelia @a-half-empty-g1rl @zomtart @justvalkyrie @steve-chandler

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A House That Isn’t A Home

Description: A look into Axl’s home life

Prompt: Broken (day 3)

Part 2 of “You’re My Red Rose”

⚠️WARNINGS ⚠️: PHYSICAL ABUSE, SUICIDAL IDEATION

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You better be sorry,” John grumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Tuna-Tober Day 2 - Qrow Branwen

pairing: Qrow Branwen x fem!OC

prompt: "Why? Why do you love me?"

word count: 2,500

content: this is honestly a bit of a dead dove, whoops. Grimm attack, weapon use (scimitars, hand crossbows, scythe, great sword, shotgun), blood, language, angst.

tuna-tober masterlist / main masterlist

dividers by: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more / gif found on comic vine

“All right kids, for today’s lesson we’re hitting the great outdoors! You all have gone above and beyond your training here at the school, so the headmaster has granted us permission to take it to the next level. After all, when you get to Beacon, combat training in a real setting starts on day one!” Rayne announced to her small class of future Huntsmen. An excited gasp filled the air before hands shot up into the air for questions. “Yes, Crystal?”

“Do you think we’ll run into any Beowolves?” the excited girl asked, practically vibrating with excitement. 

Rayne taught the class on Grimm at Signal. After years of hunting the devilish creatures, she had gained an understanding of them and knew their individual strengths and weaknesses. Up until now, the kids had never gone into combat with the creatures, they only knew how to take them on in theory from what she had taught them. So when the headmaster proposed the idea, it made her nervous. 

Her nerves had been soothed though by the plan the school board had devised going into the day, so she smiled at Crystal and nodded, telling her, “That’s the goal. We got a mission from the board saying that there’s a small pack that’s been destroying farm land. That’s where we’re headed.” 

“With a little bit of guidance,” came the voice of Taiyang as he entered the room, waving to the kids with a big smile on his face. 

“Mr. Xiao Long!” chorused some of the students as their combat teacher entered the room. 

“Don’t forget about your backup,” came a second voice as he entered with another small group of students behind him.

“How could I forget?” Rayne asked in a teasing voice as everyone gathered in the room. “Mr. Branwen and his class will be joining us, as well as Mr. Xiao Long,” she announced to her students. “Remember that, while, yes, we are going out to hunt Grimm, you are still in class. You are to follow all of our instructions if you want to stay safe. If you’ve paid attention in my class, you know that the Grimm are no joke. So remember to stay sharp out there.”

“Yes ma’am,” the students replied. 

“Now, the only real way to learn how to fight the Grimm is to do it yourself. So that’s what we plan on letting you kids do,” Qrow said. “We’ll be there if something goes wrong, so if you get overwhelmed we’ll step in. And obviously, you’re working under our licenses, so don’t blow it.” This last comment was met with some quiet laughs from the students. 

“And remember combat order!” Tai announced. “Get into groups before we get out there and use your skills and weapons to your advantage. If you can fight something ranged, let your ranged fighters go. If you end up in melee combat, work together. We don’t want any injuries, but we especially don’t want to accidentally hurt one another. Got it?”

“Yes sir!”

“Okay! Everyone grab your weapons and let’s go!” Rayne called, which resulted in her class getting up and heading out the door. 

There was a buzz of excitement in the air as they filed out, but she still couldn’t help her nerves starting to climb at the prospect of what they were doing. “It’s gonna be alright,” Qrow said, placing his hand on her shoulder to reassure her for what felt like the hundredth time since the inception of the plan. 

Tai nodded and reminded her, “The farmers said they’ve only seen three Beowolves on the property. With the students and the three of us, it’ll be a cake walk!”

Qrow chuckled and said, “I’m sure Ruby could take them all on her own, but we’ve asked her to leave at least one for the other students.”

A small smile fell onto her lips before she nodded and blew out an anxious breath. “It’ll be fine. It’s just three Grimm. They can handle three Grimm.”

As it turned out, there were more than three Grimm. The students successfully took down the three that were reported without any assistance from the teachers, but right as they were about to celebrate, a feeling of dread began creeping up Rayne’s spine. It was a feeling she always got when she sensed Grimm in the area. Turning around toward the treeline at the edge of the property, Rayne saw the red eyes of a lurking pack of Beowolves. There had to be at least fifteen of them. 

“Tai, Qrow, get the kids to-!” 

Before she could finish her sentence though, the beasts were charging at the group at full speed! Pulling her scimitars from their sheaths, Rayne ran toward the pack, hoping that engaging them in close quarters would be a distraction enough so the kids could get to safety. Rayne’s blade slashed through the underside of one of the beasts, but as it faded to dust around her, another lunged at her, which she stabbed in the throat before ripping downward. 

Taking in her surroundings, she saw a few of the Grimm had broken off and started to overwhelm a small group of students. Reaching into one of the small quivers she had on either side of her hips, she hit the button that would enable the arrows with combustion Dust at the same time as she hit the button to transform one of her scimitars into a hand crossbow. Once the arrow was loaded within a few seconds, she aimed right at the head of one of the Grimm before it could land a blow on the fighting student. 

The explosion downed the creature, and as it turned to dust, its fellows turned to look at where the attack came from. Right as they did, she activated her semblance and caused a bright sunbeam to refract off of the surface of her scimitar and into their eyes. “Go! Now!” she shouted to the kids who nodded and began running toward where Tai was ushering the students into the safety of a nearby barn. 

Right before she turned around to engage with more of the combatants, she heard the growl of one of the beasts right behind her. She felt the air swish and saw the shadow of its great paw reaching into the air to attack before suddenly fading into dust, a whimper leaving its chest in its final breath. 

“Miss Beaux, are you okay?” asked Ruby as she skidded to a halt beside Rayne, using the blade of Crescent Rose to stop her momentum. 

“I’m fine, thank you, Ruby,” she told her with a gracious smile. 

“Gettin’ rusty?” Qrow asked with an audible smirk in his voice as he came to stand beside the two of them. 

“Just because I teach full time doesn’t mean I’m not still going on hunts,” Rayne countered before turning to face the pack of beasts who were now staring them down. 

“Ruby, go help your dad protect the others,” Qrow told her as his eyes darted around to make sure that all of the Grimm were solely paying attention to them. 

“But Uncle Qrow, I-”

“I know you can hold your own, and that’s why I need you with them!” Qrow said sharply. “If this goes sideways and any one of them breaks from the pack, I need to know that everyone over there is safe!”

“I’ll blind them so you can get through. Use your semblance,” Rayne told her with a nod. 

“Got it,” she replied as Rayne once again activated her semblance and Ruby dashed away, leaving a trail of rose petals in her wake. 

By then, Rayne had transitioned her weapon back into its scimitar form and it was just her and Qrow back to back as the beasts circled. With a small smile on her lips, she asked, “Like old times?”

“Like old times,” he confirmed before they both engaged in combat with the Grimm once more. The pair worked in tandem with Qrow using the shotgun feature of Harbinger to wound the beasts before Rayne went in and sliced them up to finish them off. 

They made quick work of the remaining six beasts, and Rayne thought they were done before suddenly she heard Qrow shout in pain behind her. Snapping her head toward the sound, she saw the remnants of Qrow’s depleted aura in the air as the Beowolf pinned him to the ground and snarled. There was another shout of agonizing pain as the beast dragged its claws over Qrow’s chest and crimson began to seep into the fabric of his coat. 

“Qrow!” Rayne shouted in horror before charging at the beast and laying it out within seconds. “No, no, no, no, no! This can’t be happening…” Rayne whispered as she dropped her weapons and began trying to stop the bleeding. 

Qrow spotted one final Grimm making its way toward the barn and lifted a shaky hand to point it out, telling Rayne, “Go…”

“No! Ruby and Tai can handle it,” she said as she picked up one of her weapons and cut off a piece of Qrow’s tattered cloak in order to hold pressure on the wounds. 

“But-” he tried, becoming weaker and weaker as blood began pooling around him.

“No, don’t you do that! Don’t close your eyes, Qrow,” Rayne whispered desperately as she watched his eyes grow heavy with every passing second. As misfortune would have it though, Qrow’s eyes began to shut and tears started to fall as she whispered, “I love you…” 

Qrow woke up what felt like seconds later in a hospital room. As he looked at his surroundings, he saw Rayne scribbling furiously in a journal, so he asked in a scratchy voice, “Making lesson plans?”

Rayne looked up from her journal and a smile made its way onto her face as tears jumped into her eyes upon seeing Qrow awake. “Thank the Brothers,” she whispered before closing the journal and scooting her chair closer to the bedside. 

“What happened?” Qrow asked as he managed to sit himself up in the bed. 

“Ruby handled that last Beowolf and Tai called the Vale emergency line to report a fallen huntsman. You were in and out of it while they brought you here,” Rayne detailed. A proud smile made its way onto her lips as she added, “One of your students actually unlocked his semblance when he saw what happened. As far as we understand how it works, he’s able to close wounds. That’s what stopped you from totally bleeding out.”

“Thank him for me when you go back to work,” Qrow said. 

“Why not tell him yourself?”

“I’m not going back,” he muttered, running a hand over the bottom half of his face as he sighed in frustration. 

“Qrow-”

“I’m not going back, Ray,” he told her firmly. “I was the reason those kids ended up in danger!”

“Qrow, we don’t know that,” she tried, laying a hand over his and giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“You know as well as I do that that’s a lie,” he snapped, pulling his hand away from hers in order to run it through his hair. “I don’t know why I ever let Oz sucker me into this job in the first place…”

“Because he knew you would have a great impact on the future huntsmen who will one day have our backs out there,” Rayne told him gently. 

“Or because he knew that something like this would happen where it would be a sink or swim situation for the kids! Well, I’m not letting that happen again. I won’t endanger them! I won’t endanger you again!” he nearly shouted. “You’re better off without me…”

His words stung and Rayne was quiet for a few moments before asking quietly, “Is this about what I said before you passed out?”

There was a silence that hung heavy in the air for a few moments before Qrow asked in a broken voice, “Why? Why do you love me?” The hurt and emotion in his voice made her heart ache, and all she wanted to do was reach out and comfort him. “All I do is cause misfortune wherever I go. It’s not safe with me. It could have been you that the damn thing got, and if that had happened I would never be able to forgive myself.”

“Because of that right there,” she said as he got up from the bed and began grabbing his clothes off of the rack the hospital workers had hung them on. As he ducked behind the privacy curtain to get changed, she continued, telling him, “You care so much for others. You protect fiercely, and even if you don’t like to admit it, you love deeply. You push people away because of your semblance, but have you ever stopped to think that maybe some of us don’t care?”

“But I put you in danger, I-” he said as he emerged in his clothes which had been cleaned and repaired.

Rayne held eye contact with him as she put her heart on her sleeve and told him, “I love you Qrow Branwen. If you can’t accept that, I understand, but I just can't deny my feelings for you anymore. I can’t keep things casual anymore with someone I love as much as you.”

“Then I guess we’re over…” Qrow said quietly as he grabbed Harbinger and walked out the door, leaving Rayne to figure things out on her own. 

this made me wanna watch RWBY again!

also yes, her name is Rayne Beaux and her semblance is light refraction 🤣🤣 since this was just a one shot i just needed to throw a bare bones character together, but once i get The Story of Us written more fully, I may have her make an appearance somewhere in there because I really ended up liking her!

a day late on Tuna-Tober, but i was a sleepy gal after work yesterday😅 this may well happen throughout the month but my school is also having an IT breakdown so i can’t really school rn anyways 🤷🏻‍♀️

taglist: @i-live-in-spite @reidmarieprentiss

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Tuna-tober Day 3

Here's day 3!

Prompt: Role Reversal

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader

Word count: 428

Matt was usually the one in charge. It worked well for the two of you. You were timid and so taking control was not something you usually did. 

But seeing him around Elektra did something to you. Maybe it was the way she pushed boundaries. Maybe it was the way Matt was spending more time with her lately. You knew it was strictly work, that Matt would never cheat on you. But that didn't stop the little seed of jealousy from growing into thick, thorny vines around your heart.

So you decided that tonight, you would take control. Provided Matt even made it home. But still you dressed in a red and black corset with matching underwear and thigh high stocking. You completed the look with a pair of black high heels and a black silk mask that covered the upper half of your face. As you slipped on the mask, you let yourself slip into a more dominant headspace. Then, you waited. 

When you heard the key turn in the lock, you nearly sighed. But instead you stood and turned to face the hallway. You heard Matt pause then take his shoes off and set his cane aside before heading down the hallway. He shuffled into view and took a deep breath. 

“Sweetheart…”

“Don't sweetheart me. It's nearly midnight. You're still in your lawyer clothes so where have you been?”

“I'm sorry, we got busy in the office and-”

“Bullshit. You were with Elektra, weren't you?” By the way he stiffened, you knew you were right.

“Sweet-”

“Get on your knees.” He froze, glasses glinting in the light of the billboard. When he didn't move, you took a step towards him.

“I said, Get. On. Your. Knees.” He didn't need to be told a third time, thankfully. The sight of him sinking to his knees was beautiful but you forced yourself to stay on track.

“For weeks now, you've been abandoning me and your friends for Elektra. I know you say it's just work but work has never made you lie to me before. I've had enough. That being said, I'm willing to let you make it up to me. Do you think you can do that, Matthew?” You purposefully called him by his full name, just like she did. Matt licked his lips and nodded slowly.

“I am sorry. I'll do anything you want, sweetheart.”

“You'll start by calling me ma'am. I'm not your sweetheart tonight.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Good boy.”

He was in for a long night but damn, if he didn't put in the work.

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Confessions

Hi Everyone! I haven’t watched The Walking Dead in years. So I was incredibly surprised when Shane decided to join me recently on a hot girl walk.

I didn’t have the time to rewatch the first season but I did use TWD Wiki to fill in some of my blank spots. I took a couple of small liberties in Shane’s past but it shouldn’t be distracting to any diehard fans.

Tuna-Tober Prompt: “You can sleep here tonight.” Pairing: Shane Walsh x F!Reader

Summary: You’re part of the group that ends up at the CDC during season 1 of TWD. You and Shane hook up after a few confessions. Some plot, lots of porn with feelings.

Content Warning: Unprotected PIV sex (don’t actually do that), hair pulling, no use of y/n, tenderness

Trigger Warning: Reader does get slightly overwhelmed at one point. But Shane notices something is off with her and checks in. Just an extra warning for more sensitive readers but everything here is consensual!

Word Count: 3,492

18+ below the cut. Thank you so much for reading! Gentle reminder that reblogs are the best way ro support writers on here. XOXO

“I almost can’t believe this is real.” You say as you sit down on the bed next to Shane. Your group had arrived at the CDC earlier today. After introductions and discussions with Dr. Jenner, everyone had the best meal they had ever eaten, succeeded by hot showers and fresh clothes. 

“This feels surreal.” You say as you sit on the bed, eyeing the room around you. “It’s been months since the outbreak. All I’ve seen is loss. My sisters, my parents, my boyfriend, every single one of my friends. Hell, I’ve even lost my cat. All gone. In almost the blink of an eye the entire world changed.” You said with a large sigh. 

“We used to think we were struggling working eight hours a day and trying to pay our bills. We didn’t know what struggle was. And now to sit here on a soft bed after taking a hot shower with plumbing in an air conditioned room is a shock. I never realized precisely how much I took for granted. Not only is this room safe but this building is safe, except I don’t think my body knows how to feel safe anymore.” You tell Shane as tears begin to well in your eyes. 

“I also don’t think I ever took time to grieve. The hits kept on coming and if you didn’t keep moving you were next. Now I’m here sitting in what I used to take completely for granted: food, shelter and safety. But how long will this last?” You shrug your shoulders, head hanging in despair. The hot stream of tears in your eyes starts pouring faster and Shane tugs you in, holding you closely. 

“I know darling, I know.” He cradles you as he kisses the side of your head and you begin to sob. 

“Just get it all out.” He says as he rubs calming circles on your back. 

Shane sat patiently with you on the bed. He whispered calming words and just held you as you let the emotions cascade out of you. Your chest heaving with the pain, low back starting to ache from the position you were sitting in.  When you felt like there was nothing left, you remained in his lap not wanting to ruin the intimate moment between the two of you. Not that your bodies weren’t familiar with each other. You two had been hooking up since you joined the crew but emotions were never involved. There wasn’t time for that in this world. 

Shane waited a few minutes once you had started settling down.“You can sleep here tonight.” He murmured, his voice landing gruffly as he whispered in your ear. 

”Yeah, I do. But Shane, I’m not up for sex tonight.” You say quickly, averting your eyes from his. Your body tenses as you wait for his response. Normally, you wouldn’t think twice about fooling around with Shane but crying had left you with a throbbing headache. You were also feeling tired and emotionally vulnerable. What you needed most was a good night’s sleep. 

“Don’t you ever be ashamed to turn me down. You don’t owe me nothing.” He says while grabbing your chin to move your face towards his. Then he gives you the softest kiss on the forehead before laying you both down. 

“Can you hold me?” You sniffled as you got comfortable on the plush bedding. 

“What do you miss from before the walkers?” You ask as Shane obliges your request. 

“Cold beer.” Shane quickly retorts. “And hot wings.” He chortles, lightening the mood.  

“I don’t blame you.” You giggle. “I miss getting my nails done. And going shopping. Especially at Target.”

”Hmm, you women did love your Target! I miss going to the bar after work with my buddies. I miss eating cheeseburgers. And the internet. Shit, why did you have to go and start reminiscing like this!?” He said teasingly. 

“Okay, okay, you’re right. I’m sorry! It feels like I haven’t had a minute to just think lately, you know?” You sigh as you bite down on your lip. You hesitate but before you could stop yourself it slips out: But seriously. Is there anything else? Were you married? Did you have a family?” You roll over to face him, worrying that you were pushing the envelope with him. Shane was known to be a little hot around the collar, so you wanted to be able to see his reactions. You didn’t want to push any buttons and shut him down. 

His body tenses and he takes a large breath before speaking. 

“I was raised by my grandma Jean and she passed well before the world went to Hell and truthfully, I’m glad she wasn’t here to experience this. I don’t have any siblings but I consider Rick to be my brother. He and I grew up together. Graduated high school, went off to college and then ended up joining the force together.”

”Wait, I knew you and Rick were deputies together. I didn’t know you’ve known each other your entire lives.” Your mouth dropping at his admission. 

“Yeah. We did. I have some of my best memories with Rick. In fact, I think football is what I miss most. Football, cold beer and hot wings. That’s my final answer. You know after all this.” He nods, gesturing to the room. 

“Playing or watching?”

”Both.” He replies quickly. 

“Your number didn’t happen to be ‘22’ did it?” You ask as you finger his necklace.  

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “That was my number.” 

“So…” You pause, wondering again if you were wandering into dangerous territory. Your heart started picking up and your mouth felt dry but you knew if you didn’t ask now the timing may never be right again.“You must have known Lori and Carl before all of this?” You cautiously ask. 

Shane stiffens slightly once more before responding. “Yeah, we all met in college.”

”Listen, I know we’ve never had any discussions about whatever this is.” You say, motioning between the two of you. “ And you don’t owe me any explanations but is there something going on between you and Lori?” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could even think to stop them. You cringe as you held your breath waiting for his response, tension growing in the air. You had always felt something between him and Lori, despite her being married to Rick but now you had been slowly catching feelings with Shane you just had to know the truth. 

”Look” Shane sharply interrupts you and the tone of his voice sends a cold shiver down your spine. “I’m only going to tell you this once. Before the outbreak, Rick and I were on a call. He got shot and ended up in a coma. He was still in that coma when we had to evacuate the city. I took Lori and Carl to safety. They are just as much my family as they are Rick’s. I’m always going to feel responsible for them.” He barked, passion radiated from his body even after he was done speaking. 

You relaxed into him, appreciating the honesty. Your reaction shocked Shane. He was bracing himself for a fight, instead he found you slotting your legs between his and resting your forehead against his chest. 

“I completely understand that Shane. If I had anyone left from before I would cherish them as well.” You appreciated his honesty and besides, the world that we once knew was gone. That’s going to have an impact on relationship dynamics. Regardless, you felt safe with him and that was worth sticking around for, so long as everyone remained truthful. It did, however, bring up one more question for you. 

Swallowing hard before asking, “Do you think you have room for one more person?” 

“Yeah I think I can manage that sweetheart.” He rolls on to his back and pulls you along with him so that you end up positioned on his chest. A fresh pool of tears formed in your eyes again. You are overwhelmed by his softness with you as you cuddle into him closer. He held you tightly as you cried yourself to sleep. 

__________________________

You woke up first the next day. The emotional hangover clung to you like a cold, wet blanket. Until you realized where you were and recalled last night’s admissions. You rolled over to see Shane sleeping on his back. He looked so peaceful. You couldn’t help but to admire his features in the low light. 

“Good morning, love.” 

You jumped. Not only were you unaware that he was awake but the new pet name was surprising. It awakened a yearning in your low belly. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. But good morning.” You meekly reply as you roll over on your side, facing away from him. Your embarrassment got the best of you. You were afraid last night was going to be too much for him.

“C’mon girl, where are you going?” He asked as he followed you, one of his arms snaked under your pillow and the other wrapped itself around you, pulling you closer into him. 

“I just didn’t want to bother you.” You replied, relishing in the warmth and security his body provided. 

“How are you feeling today?” He whispered in your ear, lips gently trailing down the side of your neck as you melted into him. 

“I’m feeling better. But did you mean what you said last night? Are we a thing?” You ask, hoping that a good night of rest didn’t change his mind. 

“I meant every word.” His reply was peppered with kisses on the back of your shoulder, igniting the embers that glowed in your low belly.  

“I did too.” You whispered as you started to lightly grind yourself against his bulge. 

“You better be careful about starting something you don’t intend to finish.” He growled as you continued your movements against him, desire growing with each provocation. 

“Who said I didn’t want to finish?” You murmured. 

Your words made Shane groan as he ran his free hand across your abdomen, resting it on your hip. 

“Shit sweetheart, what am I going to do with you?” His voice was dangerous as he caressed the side of your body. His breath hitches as he realizes you weren’t wearing any panties. 

You could feel him getting harder and the reaction your body gave him made you tremble as you rolled on your back to kiss him. 

Shane grunted as you spread your legs to accommodate him. You deepened the kiss and he brought your hands up to rest near the top of your head, interlacing your fingers with his. You relaxed into the bed, enjoying as Shane took the lead. 

He slowly but firmly thrust his hips against yours. The thin pair of pajama pants he was wearing left nothing to the imagination against your bare skin. 

You open your mouth to let out a soft moan and Shane takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into yours. The sensation left you light headed and wanting more. 

His kisses were hungry and frenzied, as if he wanted to devour you. Soon your blood was buzzing in your ears. Shane’s breathing was picking up and you couldn’t stop yourself anymore from grinding back into him. Shane groaned as he broke a kiss. Stilling his hips against yours he silently skimmed his hands down your forearms, lifting his palms so that only his fingertips danced down your biceps. In any other circumstance the sensation may have tickled you but right now the pathway tracked heat down your body causing your nipples to harden and your center to dampen. 

The hazy look in your eyes made Shane chuckle before he swiftly tore your night shirt right down the middle. 

“Shane!” You gasp before bringing your hands down and snatching his shirt over his head. You shamelessly took in the view before you. Shane was in glorious shape and you weren’t sure which of the Gods should be thanked for the opportunity to see this man. 

“Wait.” The last bit of reason that wasn’t tainted by Shane in your mind wandered to the front. 

Shane stops his hands, resting them on your hips as he sat back on his knees, eyes reading your body language.

”Please tell me you have a condom?” 

“Hang on, I think I do.” You adjusted yourself so that he could grab his bag. Reaching in he grabs the small box of condoms that were found hidden between the racks of the last pharmacy the group managed to search. 

“Shit.” He replies, turning the box upside down. “We’re out.” 

“Of course we are.” You whined, laying back on the bed, throwing your forearm over your face. “I want you so fucking bad.” You lie there pouting, trying to ignore the feeling of emptiness that was growing between your legs. 

“Listen.” Shane tosses the empty box onto the floor before laying down beside you. “We don’t have to have sex. Can I touch you?” He pauses his hand on your pubic bone waiting for an answer. 

Against better judgment, you nod your head and your body sings as Shane’s hand touches you where you so desperately needed him. 

“You’re already so fucking wet for me.” Shane admires you as he teases his fingers along your slit. 

“You feel so good.” You gasp as he slowly slips two fingers inside of you. Exhaling, you bring your hand to rest on his forearm, fearing he would stop his ministrations with your center. 

The sight of you beneath him, moaning in pleasure was stunning to Shane. He leaned down and gently scatters kisses around your chest until he popped a nipple into his mouth. 

You arched your hips at the pleasure from both his hands and his mouth. He immediately curled his fingers into your g spot. You deeply moaned at the sensation. Your noises caused him to release his assault on your nipple and he met you with a sinful stare. 

“Shane, fuck me.” Your emboldened request shocked even yourself. ”Just don’t cum in me. Please.” You whined as your hands tangled into his hair, pulling him up to you for a filthy kiss. 

“You sure that’s a good idea princess?”

”No. But I don’t want to stop. And we can’t make a habit out of this.” You cautioned as you quickly untied the string to his pajama pants, greedily pulling them down his hips as soon as you could. 

“As you wish, my love.” He sharply exhaled as you held his cock firmly in your hand. The use of his pet name caused your eyes to close. 

There it was again -love. The four letter word you hadn’t realized you had been secretly yearning to hear but struck nerves at the possibility. Your brain wanted to ask the hard questions but the ease at which the phrase rolled off his tongue pleased you. His deft hands were already making your loosely formed questions disappear. 

You open your eyes and remember the task at hand. The sight of his cock was mouth watering and you firmly grasp him and jerk him off. 

You watch as Shane’s eyes close and you thumb at the bead of precum that was forming at its head. His brows furrowed and you notice how tense the muscles in his abdomen are. His breath started to pant which encouraged you to work him harder. 

“You feel amazing love but can I please fuck you now?” Shane whines as he withdraws his fingers from you. 

Nodding you move to spread your legs for him.

”No, pretty girl. Not today. Roll over.” 

A wave of shock and excitement rolled through you as you turned over. In your previous hookups, you were usually on top and you had to be incredibly discreet. This change of pace was exciting. 

Shane roughly grabbed you by the hips, pulling you up and back so that you were doggystyle on your knees in the middle of the bed. 

Anticipation washed over you and before you could figure out what he was going to do next, Shane laid a hard smack on your ass. With an open palm, he ran his hand up your backside, electricity following in his wake. He stopped at the base of your neck, giving you a gentle squeeze before he entangled his fingers in your hair. Keeping his hand close to your scalp, he grabbed a handful and pulled. 

You cried out in pleasure as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Is this ok?” 

You felt the weight of him pressed against your cunt and it made it hard for you to answer him. You meekly nodded and he laughed against your ear. 

“Yeah, I thought you might like this.” His tone was almost sinister as he tapped your arm, unconsciously asking you for it. 

You shifted your body, moving your head to the side, so you could kneel with your chest on the bed. 

Shane grabs your wrists together in one hand while he teases your entrance with his cock. 

The anticipation of finally feeling his bare skin on yours is overwhelming and your breath is coming out in hitches. But he continues to tease you. Pressing himself slowly against your hole, tip just barely entering you before slowly pulling back. 

“What are you waiting for?” You cry out and Shane just chuckles. 

“You know, I really like to take my time but since you're impatient, I guess this is it.” He said before he filled you up. 

You cry out at the mind numbing pleasure he gives you. 

Shane didn’t waste time and started to harshly fuck you. The pleasure was intense but soon, so was the position. The bliss was starting to mingle with the discomfort in your shoulders. You started to feel crushing weight in your chest and your arms felt uncomfortable. 

Shane took notice of your changing breath and at how stiff your body had become. “Hey, hey, hey, hey what’s going on?” He said in a soothing tone as he let go of your arms and stopped his movements. “Are you ok? Do you need me to stop?” He asked as he helped brush strands of hair out of your face. 

“No, we don’t have to stop but I don’t want you to hold my arms back.” 

“I’m so sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s ok hun. It just started to feel too intense” The pet name effortlessly rolled off your tongue. He didn’t seem to object to it and the unquestioning acceptance lit the fire in your body back up. 

“Can we keep going?” You ask as you prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“Absolutely.” Shane growls as he slaps you on the ass again, making you moan. He resumes his thrusting and you reach down to rub your clit. 

“Can you pull my hair again?” 

“I fucking love a woman who asks for what she wants.” He groans before he places one hand around your hip for support while the other pulls a handful of hair. 

“Omg, fuck that feels amazing.”

Shane keeps his pace as you feel yourself nearing the finish line. He pulls on your hair, making your back arch as you come up on your palms to conform to his request. 

“You’re doing so well for me.” 

All you can do is moan in response. 

Shane moved his free hand up your side body, over your shoulder trailing until his hand was loosely under your jaw, cradling your neck. 

He rubbed his thumb along your bottom lip and you popped it into your mouth, sucking on it like it was giving you life force. 

The heat at your coil was ready to boil over at any minute. Shane could feel you pulsing around him. 

“Sweetheart, you’re going to make me fucking cum.” 

His admission pushed you over the edge. Shockwaves rippled through you, causing reality to splinter and before you could realize what was happening you felt Shane pull out of you. You can hear him grunting as you are riding out the final waves of your organs. Moments later, his hot cum lay across your ass and you both lower down into comfortable positions. 

You lie there in post coital bliss for several minutes. And then reality crashed down. 

“How loud were we? Do you think people heard us?” Mortification echoed through you at the thought. 

“Uh, well, I guess that would depend on how far away they were from us.” He teased as he rubbed your back. 

“Listen, we’re all adults here and it’s the end of the world. If anything, they were probably jealous. Hang on a minute, I’ll get you cleaned up.” 

Shane looked around, deciding to use the shirt he ripped off you earlier to wipe up his spend. 

“C’mon, let’s take another shower and go get something to eat.” 

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✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: THREESOME 🐟✨

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Threesome🔥

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

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

Rating: 18+

Wordcount: 776

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

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

Your mind was fucking shattered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was going to be a long, long night.

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

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✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: "Why? Why do you love me?" + "I'm not good enough." 🐟✨

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Day 2 - For Better and For Worse

Prompt: 2 -“Why? Why do you love me?” + 10 - “I'm not good enough.” Character: Matt Murdock Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader, part of Mrs. Murdock series. Word Count: ~540 Warning(s): Self-loathing, negative self-talk, referenced off-screen violent death, grief Tags: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza Tuna-Tober Masterlist

For Better and For Worse

There was more to your husband than met the eye. 

Few who had met Matt Murdock would have liken him to the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. The ferocious vigilante prowling the streets, putting the fear of God into criminals with his fists would seem a far cry from the soft-spoken, mild-mannered defense attorney.

They didn’t see the same thirst for justice. The intense drive that sometimes had Matt working from first light until well past midnight. The determination that led him to fight through pain and exhaustration to save someone. How he bled for every person he couldn’t save, whether it was from violence or the injustice of the system.

They didn’t see the man you married.

And the most heartbreaking thing of all was that sometimes Matt himself couldn’t see that man either. Days where he couldn’t find a single good thing to say about himself.

This was one of those days. Because tonight, despite doing everything in his power, the victim hadn’t made it. Bled out before the ambulance could arrive. Worse, it was someone you had both known. Prue Hamilton, the granddaughter of Mrs. Hamilton from the bakery, who brought cookies to the kids at St. Agnes every Christmas. A beautiful young woman who should have had her whole life ahead of her. Slain while picking up some milk on her way home from work.

Matt blamed himself. Because that was who he was. Pacing the apartment like a trapped tiger, beating himself up in black tirade of bile. He wasn’t fast enough. Strong enough. Powerful enough. All his abilities were useless. He was useless. Why had you married anyone as worthless as him?

“Matty, you aren’t worthless,” you objected, finally able to get a word in edgewise. “And I married you because I love you.”

“Why?” he demanded. There was so much self-loathing in that single word. It broke your heart. “Why do you love me? I’m not good enough.”

“Yes, you are Matt,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “You have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. How could I do anything else but love you?””

He remained stiff in your arms, fighting the comfort that he didn’t think he deserved. But he wasn’t the only one who was stubborn. You would stand here all night if that’s what it took. Humming a soft wordless melody, you began to rub his back

Matt might be stubborn but he craved the affection that had been so often lacking from his life. Eventually his body began to relax, becoming looser. Those arms began to rise, then hesitated.

“It’s okay, Matty,” you murmured into his neck. You didn’t care that his hands were covered in drying blood from his desperate attempt to staunch the bleeding. He didn’t need any further encouragement, wrapping his arms around you. Lightly at first, like he was afraid that you would pull away now. Reject him like so many had before you.

You squeezed him tighter in response, silently cursing all the people who had left such deep wounds in your husband’s soul. He squeezed back, burying his face in your neck. You felt more than saw the moment the rage that had been fueling him sputtered out and he began to cry.

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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

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

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Tell Me

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.3k [Tuna-Tober Masterlist]

Tuna-Tober Prompt: “Why? Why do you love me?”

Warnings/tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, almost breakup

Summary: Matt has been acting cold for the past couple of weeks–ever since you told him you loved him.

a/n: Of course Matt was the first one who came to my mind for this prompt. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

“We’re done,” Matt stated. “That’s it. I can’t do this any longer.”

A thick and palpable tension hung in the air at Matt’s words, a heaviness so pervasive that you didn't need his heightened senses to feel it filling the apartment. Standing beside the leather couch, your arms tightly wrapped around yourself as if they alone were the only thing holding you together. Heart pounding rapidly inside of your chest, it felt close to bursting straight out if you dared to move your arms even an inch. 

Across the room, Matt stood in front of the large living room windows with his back turned to you. The light from the billboard across the street washed the front of him in a dark crimson, casting looming shadows along his tense and rigid form. His hands were situated on his hips, fingers digging so sharply into his dress pants that they were pulling the fabric even more taut around his waist. Everything about his posture–from his clenched jaw to his squared shoulders–felt as if he was intentionally shutting you out as well as keeping a physical distance between the pair of you.

This is it, you thought. This is where he finally tries to push me away.

You’d known Matt for a while now. Long enough to know how he operated when things became just a bit too much for him or if someone grew a bit too close. Over time you’d slowly learned the signs of when he’d start to close himself off, beginning to read him sometimes better than he thought he could even read you. 

It had been ten months since you’d met Matt while working on an article for The Bulletin. You’d interviewed him about a case that his firm had won and the pair of you had steadily and easily grown closer together after that initial encounter. Neither of you had been able to stay away from the other. You’d long since been past the point of just dating and occasionally sleeping together–you’d been an official couple for months now. You had clothing hanging in his closet and you knew exactly where he stored the red Daredevil suit that he donned most evenings. You knew about his past from the many late nights he'd opened up to you either after a rough patrol as the Devil or a case he was particularly fired up over.

But lately Matt had started to become prickly around you. Constantly on edge. Canceling dates and intentionally trying to avoid you. He was often gone in the mornings the few times you’d stayed over at his apartment, not even giving you his usual goodbye kiss before he left. He hadn’t invited you over as frequently either because most nights now he told you that he planned to stay late at the office before running out to deal with one thing or another as Daredevil. 

This had all started just over two weeks ago. Right around the time you’d first told him you loved him. He’d seemed off that night, too. You remembered how he’d suddenly grown quiet in bed, his expression shifting to something impossible to read as he almost immediately shut you out. You’d assured him that you hadn’t expected him to say it back in the moment–and you’d meant that. You knew he’d heard the truth in the firm beat of your heart. Because you loved Matt. You knew him opening his heart up to let someone in was not something he did easily, and you were prepared to continue proving to him that you weren’t about to disappear from his life like he seemed to secretly fear.

You’d long since wondered if his sudden coldness was some sort of a test, one he himself wasn’t even aware he was putting you through. As if he expected you to leave at the first sign of difficulty in the relationship which had otherwise been fairly smooth. You’d always encouraged open communication between you both–something else you were aware he struggled with–but you’d always been patient and understanding with him, which was what you’d tried to be over these past couple of weeks.

Until this very moment. Because right now you did not fully understand why Matt had just told you that he couldn’t continue the relationship anymore. You could feel the tears building in your eyes as you stared at the back of his navy blue dress shirt, your eyes fixed on the wrinkles that formed throughout his work day. In your chest, you could feel your heart teetering on the verge of shattering, ready to break into pieces with only a few more words from his mouth. You found yourself wondering if Matt would be able to hear your heart break.

But you didn't want to let him go without a fight. You didn’t want to lose him. You loved him far too much to let him self-sabotage the relationship you'd both created and poured yourselves into over the past few months without even trying to get through to him first.

“There’s no way you mean any of that, Matt,” you told him, shaking your head and ignoring the sting of tears in your eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

His head snapped to the side when you'd finally spoken, the sharp angle of his profile swathed in red just over the top of his broad shoulder. His jaw was set firm, but even in the light from the billboard you could see the muscle jumping in his cheek.

“And what makes you think that?” he asked, a rough edge to his words.

“Because,” you answered, taking a small, hesitant step towards him and noticing the way he flinched. “I know you. I think you’re just trying to hurt me to avoid the perceived hurt you think is bound to happen if you continue getting close to me. Growing comfortable in our relationship. Because you think I’m going to leave you. You think it's inevitable.”

The muscle jumped in Matt's cheek again, the only movement you caught on his otherwise immobile body. Pressing your lips together, you tried to fight the way they'd begun to quiver. In this moment, it felt more like you were approaching a feral cat than a grown man–a feeling you'd experienced a few times with Matt in the past. And you knew right now that if you showed him any sign of weakness he'd pounce on it.

“You're scared,” you continued slowly, taking another cautious step towards him. “I think you're terrified of how great things have been between us. I think you feel as if you don't deserve the happiness I've seen written on your face when we're together.”

Something like an agitated growl rumbled in his chest at your words. Not exactly a noise of disagreement, but also not exactly the sound of a warning. It sounded more alarmed than anything, which had you feeling more confident that you'd just struck the exact problem he'd created in his mind.

“But you're wrong,” you assured him firmly. “You deserve love and happiness, Matthew. And I intend to be here with you. I will happily spend every day right by your side helping you until you see it for yourself.”

You took another cautious and careful step towards him, but you stopped moving the second you saw his lip curl back into something like a snarl. You could see his eyes narrow at you even behind the lenses of his red glasses just before he spoke.

“Why?” he growled. “Tell me why.”

Swallowing hard, your hands nervously curled up inside the sleeves of your sweatshirt. “Why what?” you whispered.

“Why do you love me?” he demanded. “Why? How could you possibly love me?”

Freezing on the spot as your breath hitched, confusion briefly washed over you. Despite having now learned his strange behavior had indeed been brought about by you saying that you loved him for the first time weeks ago, it had taken you entirely off guard that he'd wanted an actual explanation as to why you did. But then again, that really shouldn't have surprised you quite so much considering you knew just how unlovable he thought he was. And you weren’t going to let an opportunity to tell him how you really felt slip between your fingers. 

“Because you have the biggest heart I've ever seen, Matthew,” you began softly, emotion thick in your voice. “You keep it buried deep in your chest, hiding it from everyone, but I see it. Every time you come home with another banana bread or casserole dish and an excited story about how you helped someone in this city who'd otherwise have been looked over because they couldn’t afford good legal representation. I see it when you come home late at night bruised, exhausted, and bleeding but grinning in triumph as you tell me who you saved. I see it whenever you just simply look at me.”

The snarl that had initially curled his lips back gradually slipped off of his face while you'd been speaking, the hard lines of his body slowly beginning to soften. He didn't speak, but his shift in body language had given you some hope back. Hope that you could get through to him.

“And I'm not bothered by how much of yourself you give to this city,” you continued, once more carefully closing the space between you both as you slowly lowered your arms to your sides. “I admire you for it, Matthew. Ever since you told me the truth. I've never disliked that part of you. I’ve never taken issue with it. I’ve never been afraid of you. That part of you has only made me admire you more. Love you more.”

You were standing a few feet away from him now, able to see the faint tremble of his lips with how close you were. Everything you were saying was having an effect on him so you continued, hoping your words would start to sink in. Even just a little.

“And it's not just that I admire that big, beautiful heart in your chest,” you told him, “but I admire that big, beautiful brain in that handsome head of yours.” You paused, smiling a little back at him. “I think you're incredibly smart and brilliant, Matt. In and out of the courtroom. You're fiercely passionate about justice no matter the cost to yourself–whether it's sleepless nights out on the rooftops or hours pouring over files here at your apartment. And you're funny when you let yourself stop being so broody most days,” you said, your small smile growing a bit more on your lips as a tear slipped down your cheek. “You brighten my days more than you know, Matty. Always helping me to find the light in the darkness when I think there isn't any. Seeing the good in everyone…except for yourself.”

Reaching up, you wiped away another stray tear that had raced down your cheek with the back of your hand. Matt sniffled quietly, his shoulders sagging as he finally and hesitantly turned towards you. His hands had fallen from his hips, hanging at his sides as his fingers twitched.

“Do you really want me to go?” you whispered, more tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. “Because I–I can take my things and leave if that's what you really want, Matt. I can walk out that door and leave you alone.”

Matt shook his head firmly, his mouth visibly trembling at your words. Tears had managed to slide their way beneath his glasses, trailing their way down his cheeks. The sight had your own tears falling faster as he timidly approached you, closing the small bit of distance that remained. 

“No,” he breathed out. “No, I don't really want that.”

Feeling a flood of relief, you reached out and wrapped your arms around his waist. Drawing himself the rest of the way into the front of you, Matt immediately buried his face directly against your neck. You could feel a dampness forming on your skin from his tears, the feeling only causing you to hold him tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed into your skin. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I don’t want you to go. I didn’t mean it. I’m just–just–”

Turning your head, you buried your face into his hair as your hands began rubbing light and soothing patterns over his back while he struggled to find the words he wanted. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you breathed in that warm, rich scent that was always uniquely Matt. With his warm body wrapped around you, your once rapidly beating heart began slowing back to a normal rhythm.

“I know,” you murmured back, lips brushing his hair as you spoke. “I know you didn’t mean it, Matty. Relationships are scary,” you told him. “Giving someone so much of yourself is terrifying, I get it. But I love you and I don’t want to leave you. I’m not going to leave you.”

With his face still buried against your throat, you felt his features screw up against your skin before another rush of Matt’s warm, wet tears began to slide down your neck. Your hands fisted his dress shirt, holding him even tighter to the front of yourself as he cried. You didn’t need him to explain why he’d suddenly begun to weep because you’d already known the answer. He’d heard the truth in your explanation for why you loved him as you’d spoken them aloud. The same unwavering truth that was always present in your words. 

“I love you,” he whispered into your skin. “And I don’t think I could ever stop.”

A smile pulled your lips upwards, tears burning at your eyes for an entirely different reason now. You pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to the top of his head as a warm rush of emotion filled you at hearing him finally say those three little words back to you.

“I love you, too, Matty,” you whispered. “And I don’t ever want to stop.”

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @millennial-birkin @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1 @scriptedmoon @lucienofthelakes @sarahskywalker-amidala @flowher @loves0phelia @a-half-empty-g1rl @zomtart @justvalkyrie @steve-chandler

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✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: "Why? Why do you love me?" + Flower Crowns 🐟✨

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You’re My Red Rose

Description: After years of hiding his feelings, Slash admits them to Axl with the help of flower crowns.

Relationship: Axl Rose x Slash

Prompt: “Why? Why do you love me?”, Flower Crowns (Day 2)

(Axl and Slash are both 18 years old in this fic and seniors in high school)

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1980

Axl was lying his head on Slash’s lap, smoothing his hand through the wet grass of the meadow. The sun was starting to set. He admired Slash’s strong jawlines and sweet, brown eyes while Slash was doing something with the flowers they had picked earlier.

Life was getting hard to live. Slash’s kindness and beauty ade it worth living. He wouldn’t be able to handle a universe where he would be without his chocolate eyes, his sweet voice, or his smooth skin. From the very first day they met two years before in the 10th grade, Slash always made him feel at peace.

“Look what I made you,” Slash announced, lifting his creation up to show him.

Axl sat up. It was a flower crown made with twigs tied together and bits of daisies, roses, dandelions, and lilies. Slash placed it on top of Axl’s head. It was a perfect fit.

“How do I look?” Axl asked.

It didn’t take long for Slash to answer. “Cute.”

“Cute?” Axl furrowed his eyebrows.

Axl’s face went hot. He always thought Slash was attractive, but he didn’t know if the feelings were mutual. During school hours, Slash and Axl barely saw each other due to their conflicting class schedules. Whenever he did, a girl was always hanging from his arms. He was a ladies’ man. The girls loved him and he never rejected them, so calling him cute surprised and confused him greatly.

“Yes, cute. Beautiful actually.” He caressed his cheek. “From the first time I saw you, I always thought that. It’s probably way too early to say these very strong words, but I don’t care. Life is short to dwell. I love you.”

Axl’s heart pounded in his chest. “Why? Why do you love me? What about all those girls you were drooling over?”

“I was putting on a show because I was still figuring out who I was. I love you because you brought out the real me. I love you because you’re not afraid to be you around me. I love you because you’re Axl. Do you love me? You can say no. I won’t be upset if you do.”

Axl pulled him close, bringing him into a kiss. Before pulling away, Slash licked his lips.

“I do love you, Slash. I don’t have that many words to show it, but I do.”

Axl straddled his legs around Slash’s waist. They pressed their foreheads together, enjoying this moment between them. There was this weird feeling that someone was watching them. Axl moved back and looked in the distance. A dark and tall silhouette was standing next to a tree about 30 feet away from where he and Slash were.

It was his older stepbrother, Andrew.

His heart dropped into his stomach. His stepbrother most definitely saw everything that just happened.

“I-I have to go. My parents would be worried.” Axl stood in a hurry.

“See you tomorrow.”

Axl nodded. He didn’t want to go home. Their stepfather was there. Andrew would tell him what he saw without any consideration for what would happen. But he had to go. Axl met up with Andrew, who stared at him with a smirk.

“Is that your little boyfriend?” Andrew asked in a teasing tone.

“No, he’s just my friend.” Axl kept his head down as they walked to their trailer.

“That’s not what I saw. You know Dad will blow a gasket when he hears about this.”

“Please, don’t tell him. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Nah, Dad doesn’t like when we keep secrets.”

Tears streamed down his face as they walked home. There was no convincing him. Andrew was a miniature version of his father. He loved seeing him in pain.

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✨🐟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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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: MUTUAL MASTURBATION 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

Chapter 2

Pairing: Elektra Natchios/Karen Page

Tuna-Tober Prompt: Mutual Masturbation

Summary: Matt’s tied up and Elektra and Karen have some fun.

Word Count: 3099

I had to edit/upload this on mobile so I’m crossing my fingers that this posts correctly.

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

“Yes, you can kiss me.” Karen responded with a soft smile as her cheeks flushed. The tense mixture of nerves and excitement was swirling around her body as Elektra slowly leaned in to kiss Karen, pausing when their lips were barely touching. Elektra held space, taking a few moments to breathe each other’s air, building a palpable tension. Karen could feel Elektra’s warmth radiating off her skin and on to Karen’s. The anticipation was making her palms sweat and her heart race. Elektra moved her hand to cup Karen’s cheek before closing the gap and delicately kissing Karen.  

Karen’s skin prickled at the sensation of Elektra’s soft lips on hers. Her usually busy mind blanked out as she gently kissed Elektra in return. She was a bit taken aback by the sensation. Karen had kissed her fair share of men but this kiss was so different. Elektra was taking her time, enjoying the experience and sensation with Karen. Elektra was letting Karen take pleasure with her exploration, whereas many of the men she had dated in the past were more firm and quick to advance exploration with her. 

Elektra slowly leaned back, breaking the kiss but smiling as she did so. “Can I keep kissing you?” She asked as she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind Karen’s ear. 

“Yes.” Karen breathed out before hungrily closing the gap between them once again. Only this time, Karen wasn’t so timid as she open mouth kissed Elektra, slipping her tongue into Elektra’s mouth. She lightly moaned before massaging her tongue against Karen’s.The girls sat on the couch, taking their time making out and playing with each other’s hair. An occasional giggle slipped from Karen in between kisses. 

Matt was in no hurry for this to end. He enjoyed being lost in their arousal.

Their bodies were calling to him. He could feel how hot their figures were pressed together. He could sense how every tender touch to the lips and each soft caress of their hands were working each other up. The scent of their arousal was already thick and beginning to linger in the room, despite being fully clothed. Karen was so easily worked up and he knew she would be a pleasure to ruin. In due time, that is. Until then he politely waits, letting the ladies have their fun. Temperance is a cardinal virtue after all. 

Elektra breaks away from the kiss once again. “Would you like to take this somewhere more private? We can stay out here if you like, or we can go back to our bedroom.” 

Karen pauses to think. The thought of doing this in front of Matt was really turning her on but the newness of it all had her feeling insecure. 

“Um, yes. I’d like to go to your bedroom. This time.” Karen quietly replied.

“Ok love, wait here for just a moment. I’m going to get something ready. Wait here, love.” Elektra brushed Karen’s cheek before sauntering off to the bedroom.

Karen exhaled sharply and moved to untuck her top from her skirt. She was already feeling flushed from the little bit of making out they just did. 

Karen and Matt sat hot and bothered in the living room. The air is already heavy with want. Tension between Matt and Karen was high as they waited for Elektra to return. Karen was trying to slow her breathing. Matt was feeling heady with desire but he noticed Karen swallowing hard and her changing heart beat, indicating that she was getting nervous once more. 

“Remember if you start to feel uncomfortable at any time, just tell us and we will stop everything.” Matt spoke softly as we sat back into his seat, wanting to soften his body language for Karen’s sake. 

“I know.” Karen smiled, breaking some of the tension. “I just started to get nervous again but I know everything will be ok.” She said, before turning her head to face the loud bang that just came from the bedroom. “I just need to get out of my head.”

”Alright everyone, thanks for your patience.” Elektra announced on her way back into the room. 

“I couldn’t find our spare pair of handcuffs Matty, so I had to pull ours off the bed. Although I don’t think you’ll mind.” Elektra taunted as she proceeded to handcuff Matt to the chair. 

Karen’s mouth drops in shock but Matt could smell the increase of her arousal. 

“Are you ok with this Matt?” Karen asks. 

“Oh, I’m more than ok. Are you comfortable with me out here listening?” 

Karen nodded yes before Elektra asked, “Karen, sweetie, may I have your panties please?” Extending her hand out toward Karen. 

Karen quickly glanced between Elektra and Matt. Matt sensed her staring at him and nodded in her direction. 

Smiling mischievously, whilst also thinking to herself: what the fuck am I doing? And Why do I like it so much?  Unfortunately: Is this too soon? Followed quickly behind. Stop denying yourself. Was the last bit of rumination on the topic. Before she can change her mind,Karen stands and pulls up her skirt just enough to shimmy her panties down her legs. Stepping out of them, she hands them to Elektra. 

“Thanks dear.” 

Elektra walked over to Matt and knelt down beside him.

“Karen and I are going to go play in our bedroom. All you need to do is sit here like a good boy and kindly wait until it’s your turn.” She places a kiss to the side of his cheek and she sets Karen’s panties on his shoulder, knowing that having her scent so close would drive him wild.  

“Yes, Mistress” Matt groaned in response, feeling the fabric of his pants tighten against his dick as his body responded to Elektra. 

Karen appreciated the view of Matt willingly handcuffed to his own chair. It was a pleasant juxtaposition to the dominant man she knows in the courtroom. She had always had a physical attraction to Matt but had never indulged in the urge to act on it. Karen didn’t want to ruin their professional relationship. But today, she allowed her eyes to wander to his pecks that were straining against his t-shirt. She admired the way his sweatpants clung to the muscles on his thighs. She took note of his knuckles turning white as he gripped onto the side of the chair. She knew that Matt was more than capable of breaking out of Elektra’s restraints but seeing this strong, capable man hold himself back made her feel supremely safe. 

“C’mon love. Let’s go and play.” Elektra took Karen’s hand and guided her into the bedroom.

________________

Karen and Elektra sat next to each other on the bed. Elektra moved to face Karen and said, “I only require Matthew to call me Mistress. You can refer to me as you wish. And later on if you feel comfortable we can include you in that dynamic.”

Karen pauses for a moment before replying. “I think I would like to call you Ellie, for now.” Her cheeks flushed red with her response. 

“Now, Ellie, I would very much like to kiss you some more.” Karen purred as she began to unbutton her top. Her boldness surprised even herself. 

“Ask and you shall receive.” Elektra husked before brushing her lips with Karen. Elektra traced the outline of Karen’s lips with the tip of her tongue. Karen raggedly exhaled. 

Their kisses quickly turned sloppy in the privacy of Elektra’s bedroom. Their teeth clicked together as Karen snaked her hands around Elektra’s shoulders. Elektra took her hands off Karen’s hip and worked to remove both her shirt and bra. 

Karen paused, her breath hitched as her eyes took in the goddess next to her. 

“You are so fucking beautiful. Can I touch you?” 

Elektra giggled and brought Karen's hands to her chest, before leaning in to kiss Karen. 

Karen shuddered and excitement coarsed through her body as she opened her mouth against Elektra’s once more. Tongues collided as Karen caressed Elektra’s neck. She gently cupped Elektra’s breasts as they continued making out. 

Elektra’s skin was so soft and her gentleness with Karen mixed with the excitement at the new experience had Karen’s breath picking up. She clenched her thighs together, attempting to quelch the desire building in her low belly but her missing panties made the dampness between her thighs even more apparent. All of this aided in Karen’s braveness to explore her new partner’s body. 

Karen pulled back, looking Elektra in the eyes. She was enjoying fondling Elektra. 

The weight of her breasts in Karen’s hands released any remaining nerves left in Karen’s body and she allowed herself to gently squeeze them, taking note of the look of pleasure in Elektra’s eyes. Karen’s touch caused Elektra’s nipple to harden and Elektra sharply inhaled as Karen instinctively brought her thumbs across them. The noise encouraged Karen to do it again only this time she brought her pointer fingers and thumbs against her hardened nipples and gently pinched them. Elektra shivered and Karen pinched her nipples for a second time, causing Elektra to whine. The sound shot right to Karen’s core. The intensity shocked her and before she could stop herself, a nervous giggle slipped from Karen’s mouth. The sexual tension shifted to something lighter and once again some anxiety within Karen creeped up.

”Are you ok? Do you need to stop?” Elektra asked Karen.

”No, I don’t want to stop but can we slow down a little bit?I think I got a bit too carried away. I’m really sorry I’m getting stuck in my head. I promise I want to do this with you.”

“Of course we can, darling. We can stop now if you like. There’s no pressure to do anything. We can simply sit here and talk. Or we can cuddle for a bit.” Elektra calmly said. She lifted Karen’s chin to meet her eyes.

“How are you feeling?”

Yet again, nerves began to course through Karen’s body as she took a moment and really thought about what was going on. She scanned her body, to see how it was feeling before answering. 

“Truthfully, I think I’m ashamed of how excited you make me feel. I come from a strict background where this would be frowned upon and I think a bit of my initial programming is getting to me. I don’t know how far I want to go tonight but I do know that I’m not ready to stop yet.” 

“I understand.” Elektra soothingly replied. “You and Matthew have that in common. Although something inside me believes he enjoys the suffering he brings on to himself.” She added with a giggle. 

“Yeah, I can see that. Can’t be a good Catholic boy without the corresponding guilt can you?”

“No, I think not.” Elektra whispers back, nuzzling her nose against Karen’s. She brought her hands up to the back of Karen’s head cradling her. She then slipped them up under the nape of her neck. “Can you relax for me?” She asked Karen as she began to massage the back of Karen’s head with her nails. 

“Mmmm, yeah I can.” Karen replied, relaxing into the sensation. “Tell me, do you treat all the girls you meet as good as this?” 

“No dear, not all of them. Only the special ones.” She whispered, her breath tickling the shell of Karen’s ear. That tickle quickly turned into a shiver then down the right side of her body and reigniting her core. 

Karen once again basked in the comfort of Elektra’s closeness. 

“Do you think we could lay down?” Karen asks. 

“Whatever you wish, my dear.” Elektra said, shifting so the both could lay down in the middle of the bed, facing each other. 

There was barely any space between the two of them. Bodies so close but not yet intimately entwined. Karen stared deeply into Elektra’s eyes as Elektra caressed the side of Karen’s face. The low light gleaming from the nightstand reflected the shades of green in her eyes and Karen felt she could get lost in her eyes forever. 

“How are you feeling?” she gently asks Elektra. 

Smiling, she replies, “I feel like the luckiest woman in Hell's Kitchen right now.” As she moved to wrap her arms around Karen’s shoulder, their lips met in a sensual kiss. After a few, slow passes Karen enthusiastically picked up the pace. Elektra parted her lips and their tongues danced against each other. 

Karen then moved to close the gap between them, slotting her legs in between Elektra’s. The soft curve of Elektra’s thigh felt wonderful against hers. She could smell the scent of Matt’s cologne and body wash that lingered on the bed sheets. That mixed with Elektra’s intoxicating scent left Karen heady with want. They laid like that, making out like teenagers for what felt like hours, before Elektra carefully pulled back and began to trace Karen’s lips with her finger. “Can I touch you?” Elektra asked, taking note of Karen’s blown pupils and heavy breathing. 

Karen nodded yes and Elektra brought her in for a filthy kiss that left Karen gasping for air as Elektra trailed her hands down Karen’s back, deftly working to remove her bra. Karen shuddered as Elektra took off her bra, nipples hardening at the change in temperature. “You are absolutely stunning, my dear.” Elektra murmured before lightly cupping Karen’s breasts. 

“Is this ok love?” 

“Yes, Ellie.” Karen whispered as she adjusted to give Elektra easier access. 

Elektra’s mouth dropped as she admired Karen’s perky breasts. She wanted to shamelessly ravage her but Elektra restrained herself. She did however bring her hands to Karen’s hips, squeezing them before gently teasing her way up Karen’s abdomen, admiring the way Karen’s already taught nipple hardened further. 

Karen shuddered. “Touch me, please-anything.” Karen mewled.  

Without hesitating Elektra leaned forward and brought Karen’s nipple into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around it before popping off with a wet smack. By now, Karen was alight with desire. Her heart was pounding and her blood buzzing through her veins. She leaned in to kiss Elektra and Elektra was drawn in by the energy pouring from her. 

Karen deepened the kiss and pulled her skirt up just enough to be able to feel Elektra’s clothed thigh against her bare pussy. The sensation brings gooseflesh up her body. 

Once settled into this position, she took note of how Elektra’s bare breasts felt against hers. The soft skin and hardened nipples brushing against hers had her brain in a frenzy. She so badly wanted Elektra to make love to her but also wanted to stay in the moment as is, rocking against Elektra’s thigh deeply kissing one another. 

Elektra played with Karen’s breasts as they continued to make out. Karen heatedly brought her hands down to the waistband of Elektra’s pants. Just the tease of Karen breaking the seal had Elektra beginning to pant and she ground her thigh against Karen’s center. Karen’s moans caused Elektra to remove her pants before readjusting herself comfortably on top of Karen. 

Elektra hovered over Karen before she leaned in and teasingly rubbed noses with her. 

“I have an idea.” Karen whispered with a grin, grinding against Elektra. 

“Hit me.” She retorts, playfully thrusting her thigh against Karen’s center. Some of her excitement rubs off on Elektra’s thigh. 

“I’m really enjoying this. Honestly, I could do this for hours with you.” Karen admitted as she reached down to fondle Elektra’s breasts. 

“I love the way your skin feels against mine. And your kisses are divine. There’s no race to an end with you. However, poor Matthew has been out there for a long time-” 

“You needn’t worry about him, angel. I’ll handle him after I take care of you.” Elektra nips, the words not only affecting Karen but Matt too. He patiently remained seated in his chair, cock straining against his pants as he utilized his senses to enjoy the activities going on in his bed right now. Planning out what he would do when it was time to finally join them. 

Karen gasped at the idea of Elektra taking care of her. “See that’s the thing. I was hoping maybe we could touch ourselves…together.” She asked, nerves causing her to chew on her bottom lip. 

“I think that’s a lovely idea.” Elektra said as she leaned in to give Karen a gentle kiss before she moved to take off her panties. Once the garment was tossed to the side, Elektra knelt on the bed, sitting in between Karen’s spread thighs. 

“Show me how you like to touch yourself, Karen.” Her voice dripped like honey as she spread her knees, giving Karen a view of her cunt. 

Karen reached down with two fingers and began to run quick circles around her clit. Elektra watched for a few moments before meeting Karen’s gaze. She slowly caressed a hand down her body before bringing it over to cusp her pussy. Rubbing herself for a few strokes before spreading herself open with her fingers, revealing her wetness to Karen. 

“All of that is because of me?” Karen asked, eyes blazing into Elektra’s?

”Yes and I can’t wait to have you.” 

Elektra’s admission went straight to Karen’s pussy. Her arousal pooled on the bed, unknowing that she was laying on Matt’s side. 

Karen spread her legs further as she felt herself getting closer. The coil in her belly was so tight and it was going to break loose at any moment. 

Karen lay there, gyrating her hips, hand speeding up to match Elektra’s pace. Her excitement boiled over and her body stiffened as she came, reality splintering before her. 

Elektra feverishly watched Karen’s pussy pulsate as she came, knowing her release was coming soon. She sped up the movements on herself before her shockwaves hit her. The sweetest moan Karen ever heard slipped from Elektra’s mouth as she dissolved into pleasure. 

Once the last wave rolled through her body, Elektra relaxed her body, sitting down on the bed, pulling Karen’s calves around Elektra’s waist. 

“Are you ok?” She softly asked Karen. 

“More than. That was amazing, Ellie.”

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Karen asks, “What should we do about Matt?”

”Well, he has been a very good boy. I know hearing you moan for me must have been torturous. We should at least untie him for good behavior. If you don’t feel ready yet, I can give him a bit of a treat.” 

“I like the sound of that.” Karen replied. “Do you think I can watch?” 

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✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: FLOWER CROWNS 🐟✨

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Day 2 - Forget-Me-Nots

Prompt: 2 - Flower Crowns Character: Frank Castle Pairings: Frank Castle x Reader Tags: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland Warnings: Fluff, original child character, reference canon character death, grief Tuna-Tober Masterlist 2024

Forget-Me-Nots

There was something so adorable about your daughter Sophia making flower crowns. She was so serious about it. Asking for very specific flowers. Brows furrowed, the tip of her tongue sticking out as she painstakingly assembled each crown. No mistaking who her father was. Frank got the same look on his face when he did maintenance on his guns.

But your little one was enjoying herself. That proud, little smile when she finished one said it all. Along with the big, ear-to-ear one when she presented each crown to its intended recipient. So far, everyone had accepted theirs and donned them immediately.

Including Frank. He immediately knelt down so his daughter could place the crown on his head. It should have looked absurd. Big Marine with a delicate flower crown on his head with thin blue ribbons trailing down his back. But it didn’t. It looked sweet.

The ribbon matched the tiny flowers. You wondered if Frank recognized them. Forget-me-nots, symbolizing true love, memories, and remembrance. It was rather apt but it was unlikely Sophia knew just how apt. She probably just thought that flowers would look pretty on her daddy.

Which they did. The sky-blue color was a pleasing contrast against his dark hair.

You’d bet a similar logic governed the hibiscus gracing your crown. That she just thought the colorful flowers were pretty. And familiar since you grow them in the garden. But even though it was just coincidence, it’s meaning of being consumed by love was so true. You had never felt so much love as you did now, in your little home with your husband and your daughter.

There was no mystery behind Sophia’s choice of sweet-peas for her own crown. Frank had been calling her sweet-pea since the day she was born.

On the other hand, Sophia had made other apt choices for flowers. Irises for Karen (your friendship means so much to me), sunflowers for Foggy (constancy and devotion), and chrysanthums for Curtis (you are a wonderful friend). Just to name a few.

The love and devotion of lavender for Matt was rather apt but Sophia seemed to have picked it for its sleep-aid properties. Given that she solemnly told him that he needed more naps when she placed the crown on his head. It had taken all of your willpower not to laugh. You were not alone in that regard.

The pale purple flowers seemed to be working their magic. Your boss was practically dozing on your couch, his head pillowed against Karen’s shoulder. Which was rather amazing considering that was Sophia and her friends had set up shop just feet away in the kitchen. And they weren’t being quiet.

Speaking of Sophia, she was tugging at Frank’s hand, “Daddy, daddy, I need your help!”

“Sure, sweet-pea,” he said, allowing himself to be tugged toward the crown making. You followed the pair, curious. Sophia had been very adamant about making her crowns herself, that she was a big girl.

On the table in front of her chair, you could see the beginnings of another flower crown. This one also featured forget-me-nots.

“What do you need, sweet pea?”

“Lisa’s favorite flower!”

You felt your breathe catch. There wasn’t anyone at this party with that name. There was only one Lisa she could be talking about.

“Lisa’s favorite flower?” Frank repeated. His voice was surprisingly even. Provided that you didn’t know him. You, however, could hear the brittleness. Frank might sound calm but he wasn’t feeling calm. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Curtis drift closer.

“Yes, for her crown.”

Frank took a deep breath. “Baby, Lisa’s in Heaven. She can’t wear a flower crown.”

This time he couldn’t keep the pain out of his voice. You put your arm around your husband’s waist, silently offering your support. His body felt like stone under your hands. But he put his arm over your shoulder, pulling you close to him.

“I know,” Sophia said. She looked up at you both with those big brown eyes. Frank’s eyes. Her expression was unusually somber. “But she was my sister. She deserves a crown too.”

“Yeah,” Frank said, his voice thick with unshed tears. “You’re right, sweet-pea. Lisa deserves her crown.”

He looked over the collection of flowers. His hands shook a little when he gathered up the yellow roses, handing them over to Sophia. Who took them with a little smile for her father. Silently she became to weave the roses amongst the forget-me-nots. The same flowers she had gifted Frank.

You weren’t surprised when Frank excused himself, claiming that he had to use the bathroom. Nor that his eyes were red when he returned. But he smiled when Sophia showed him Lisa’s crown. “It’s beautiful, sweet-pea. Lisa would have loved it.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Yellow roses mean friendship and remember me.

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Tuna-tober Day 2

Here's day 2 of Tuna-tober.

Prompt: Flower Crowns

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Word Count: ~1k

You and Logan were complete opposites. He was dark and gloomy, grumpy most of the time. While you were sunshine and rainbows, happy as can be. 

Your powers dealt with nature. You could grow flowers from nothing, cause minor earthquakes, and create remedies from herbs. It was helpful sometimes and useless others. But you got by. Teaching at Professor Xavier's school helped. Being around Logan, despite his grumpy nature, helped. And boy, did you enjoy being around him.

Alright, so you had a crush on the man. It was hard not to. Beneath his gruff exterior laid a heart of gold. Plus, Logan was different around you. He was more playful, more kind. He picked on you but not maliciously. And you did the same. The two of you had a back and forth banter that just worked.

What you loved most, however, was when the students got involved. They loved to see just how far Logan would go for you. Which is how you found yourself in your current situation.

You stood outside Logan's classroom door and carefully played with the item in your hands. You were patiently waiting for him to finish talking to his students so that you could pull him aside. As he wrapped up, you hid your hands behind your back and smiled at the students as they left, greeting the ones who spoke to you. Once everyone had left, you turned to face Logan and grinned. His eyebrow immediately rose and he crossed his arms across his broad chest.

“What are you up to?” He asked, voice deep and warm.

“Me? I'm not up to anything. I just wanted to see you!”

“Well, you've seen me. Now what?” You walked into the room, keeping your hands behind your back. Logan grew wary as you approached and you giggled. You stopped a couple feet in front of him and smiled. 

“I made you something, Logan.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I worked on it for a long time too. So you better like it.” The corner of his lips twitched in amusement but otherwise, he kept a straight face. 

“Is that so?”

“Yep!”

“Well, what is it?” He asked. You brought your hands out in front of you with a flourish and watched as Logan tried not to laugh. In your hands was a beautiful flower crown. It was full of reds, yellows, and oranges interwoven with the greens and browns of the leaves and stems.

“You've got to be joking.” He said, fighting a smile.

“Nope! I made it just for you. It reminds me of a sunset. I tried not to make it too girly. But flower crowns are inherently girly. Do you like it?” You sounded and looked so hopeful that Logan found he couldn't possibly crush your dreams. He sighed and tilted his head.

“Yeah, darling. I like it.” You squealed in happiness. 

“Does that mean you'll wear it?”

“...what?”

“The flower crown, silly! Will you wear it? Pleaseeee?” You put your hands together and looked up at him innocently. If you didn't know better, you'd say Logan was blushing. He seemed to have an internal battle before he eventually let out a long suffering sigh. He tilted his head down in your direction.

“Go ahead, darling. But only for a minute.” He said gruffly. You very gently placed the crown upon his head, making sure it was straight, before you pulled your hands back and clapped. 

“Perfect! It looks good on you, Logan.” You grinned, giggling between words.

“Alright. Come on now. Take it off.” He rumbled. You pouted then, putting the next part of your plan into action.

“Aw, come on, Logan. Don't you want to wear it for a little while. I did work pretty hard on it.” You told him, batting your eyelashes. Logan playfully rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“I know you did. Don't you want to keep it safe? If I'm wearing it, I'm liable to mess it up.”

“It is safe. I sprayed it with something that will keep it together. You'd have to get hit pretty hard to mess it up. It's a gift, Logan, accept it.” 

“So that's what I'm smelling.” At that, you raised a brow. But then it hit you. With Logan's heightened sense of smell, he could likely still smell the glue that was holding everything together. You smacked your forehead then held your hand out, your shoulders drooping. 

“I'm so sorry, I didn't even think about that. I'll take it back so it doesn't bother you anymore.” You told him. Logan regarded you for a long second before he suddenly shook his head and stepped back out of your reach.

“No.”

“What?”

“No, you can't have it back. You said it was a gift right? Well then it'd be pretty rude to take it back.” He told you smugly. You gawked at him for a minute then smiled.

“Well, if you're certain…”

“I am.” 

“Okay, then. I'm glad you like it.” You tell him. He nods but before he can say anything, the kids start entering the room. His next class is about to start and so you simply smile at him and turn to leave. You're almost out the door when you hear one of the kids gasp.

“I want a flower crown like that!” You stifle your giggles as the rest of the students catch on. You stop in the doorway and turn to see Logan looking at you with a look you can't quite distinguish. The students are all clamoring around him as they ooh and ahh over his flower crown. You can't resist adding fuel to the fire so you call out.

“I'll see you later, Logan.” Then you left the room, hearing his students start asking if the two of you are dating and if he likes his flower crown. You laugh the whole way back to your room. You know you're in for it when Logan gets done with class.

You wouldn't have it any other way. 

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

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Tuna-Tober Day One - Falling Asleep in a Hospital Room - Spencer Reid

pairing: Spencer Reid x wife!pregnant!reader

prompt: falling asleep in a hospital room

word count: 2,034

content: hospital setting - mentions of IV lines, ventilators, lacerations, stitches, and broken bones; mention of motor vehicle accident

dividers by: @tunatober

The music playing from your phone stopped abruptly as an incoming call from an unknown number began ringing you. Sliding the bar over to answer, you placed the phone between your shoulder and ear as you continued chopping vegetables. “Hello?”

You were greeted by your name being quietly spoken by a familiar voice, who added, “It’s Emily. I’m calling to tell you that something happened with Spencer. He’s in the hospital right now and-”

The sharp knife in your hand nearly slipped as her words rang in your ears. You placed the knife down on the cutting board and tried to take a calming breath before asking, “What happened?” You were hoping that your husband would be done with the case in enough time to make it home for dinner, but now, clearly that wouldn’t be happening. 

“He’s in the operating room right now and then they’re taking him to the ICU. The car he was in got hit by the unsub,” Emily informed you quietly, keeping her tone neutral for your sake. She took a deep breath before telling you, “He flipped a few times and they needed to use the jaws of life to get him out. That’s all I know for now. I’ll keep you updated on when-”

“What hospital is he in?” Emily said your name exasperatedly before you asked in a firmer tone, “What hospital is he in?” She sighed before telling you the name of the hospital, but not before once again attempting to keep you at home in order to keep your stress levels down. 

When you hung up the call, you leaned heavily onto the counter as tears began to fall from your eyes and emotion threatened to close your throat. Shallow breaths were all you could manage as your mind flitted through the worst case scenarios of the outcome of this hospital visit… It took a few minutes, but you finally gathered yourself enough to safely make the trip to the hospital Emily said Spencer had been taken to. 

Your worry had started to ramp up again as you quickly made your way into the hospital and navigated to the entrance of the ICU where you hit the button to speak with the nurses at the station. Your hands fidgeted with the strap of your purse as you waited, and you jumped when the voice finally crackled though, asking, “How may I help you?”

“I-I’m here to see Spencer Reid. He was in a car accident? I was told he would be here after he got out of surgery.”

There was a long pause before the woman on the other side said, “He already has more than the max number of guests at the bedside, you can-”

“I’m his wife! Please!” you pleaded in desperation, your voice breaking with renewed emotion at the thought of being denied access to see him. 

Another long pause filled the air before you heard the locks on the doors give way and open to give you access into the ICU. As you wandered past the nurses’ station, you heard the same voice from before call out, “Mrs. Reid?” When you turned your attention toward her, she told you, “He’s in bed 18, right this way.”

On the way to the hospital, you imagined many different reasons for Spencer to end up in the ICU after a car accident, but the one you didn’t imagine was him being on a ventilator, having a machine breathe for him. There were tubes and IV lines everywhere and the sight of Spencer’s battered body made your knees give out under you. “Woah!” the nurse walking you yelped as she grabbed you under the arm to try and keep you from falling to the ground. 

Your name was called before another set of hands was under your other arm and their owner helped you stand. “I’ve got her,” said Luke as he wrapped an arm around you to keep you steady. “JJ, get her a chair.”

JJ turned toward the two of you and nodded, grabbing a rolling chair from nearby and pushing it behind you so you could sit. Without anyone even saying anything, the small crowd of BAU agents parted as Luke rolled you up to the bedside so you could be beside Spencer. “What happened?” you whispered as you grasped Spencer’s hand in your own and held on tightly. 

Right as you asked this, a doctor walked into the small room and said, “During the crash, his airway became compromised and a lung collapsed. He also sustained a few broken bones. Fractured left tibia and fibula as well as a dislocated left shoulder. There was a large laceration across his abdomen that we stitched up in the OR. He’s lucky to be alive. We’re going to keep a close eye on his case and hope that he can come out on the other side of this with minimal long term complications.”  

“Oh my God…” you whispered, practically collapsing against the railing of the bed as a fresh bath of tears cascaded from your eyes. 

“He’s gonna pull through, he’s strong,” Emily said as she put a comforting hand on your shoulder. She cleared her throat before telling the team, “Let’s give them some space, everyone.”

A kiss was placed on your temple by David before he wrapped you in a hug, telling you, “Call if you need anything, okay? We’ll be nearby.”

When they were gone and you were alone with Spencer, you sat and held his hand for a few minutes, only the beeping of machines and your quiet sobs breaking the silence. When you felt like you ran out of tears, you lowered the railing on the bed and raised the chair you were sitting in. Scooting closer to the bed, you took Spencer’s hand and placed it on your swollen belly, holding his hand there as you whispered, “I really need you to pull through this, Spence. You need to be here when our little girl gets here. I can’t do this without you…”

The stress of the situation combined with the hour drive to get to the hospital had you nodding off in the chair soon enough. By the time visiting hours were over, the nurse came into the room to inform you, but just couldn’t bring herself to wake you. She made her way to the blanket warmer and got a blanket to drape over you before ordering a cot to be brought to the room for when you stirred from your sleep at some point. 

The next morning you startled awake when you heard a pair of voices in the room. Blinking hard, you adjusted your eyes to your surroundings and saw Tara and Penelope in the room, both fussing over gifts they brought. Tara held a handful of balloons in her hand as well as a stuffed bear, and in Penelope’s there was a vase of flowers and another stuffed animal stuffed under her arm that you couldn’t tell what it was…

“Good morning,” came Tara’s voice as she made her way over to you, picking up a cup from the table and bringing it over to you. “Hot chocolate. Extra chocolate, and whipped cream on top.”

“Thank you,” you whispered as you took the warm drink and held it in your hands. Spencer must’ve told them your order at some point… The thought brought tears to your eyes. 

The tears fell when Penelope shuffled over and wrapped you in a hug as she whispered, “This sucks so much…”

“Yeah…” you whispered, your voice scratchy and breaking as you spoke. 

When she pulled away, she pushed the mysterious stuffed animal into your hands. Looking down, you realized it was a capybara. Penelope cleared her throat before saying, “Spencer says that you remind him of a capybara with how kind you are and how you take in and take care of anyone who needs it.”

“Damnit, Penny!” you whispered, your voice pitched up as you took the stuffed animal into your arms and held onto it like a lifeline. 

“I’m sorry! I just saw it in the gift shop and couldn’t help it!” she said, frantically reaching into her purse for a tissue to give to you. 

Tara had to take off before Penelope so she could work the case, but Penelope stayed for a bit after to keep you company until she was needed. Her positive attitude and words attempted to keep your mind off the horrible reality that you found yourself in. 

You spent the day at Spencer’s bedside and only left when you realized how tired and sore you were from sleeping in the chair and then the uncomfortable cot. Penelope offered her guest room to you, and surprised you with your pregnancy pillow on the bed after a hot meal of pizza and warm mug of hot chocolate to end the night. 

Every night for the next week you stayed at Penelope’s place after visiting Spencer in the hospital. She worked from home as much as she could so that you weren’t alone, and by the end of the week, the unsub was brought to justice, not only for his crimes against the people he killed, but also for what he did to Spencer. Penelope joined you as you made your way to the hospital to tell Spencer that the team had caught the guy. The nurses had been telling you that even under sedation, some people can hear and remember what was happening around them, and you were sure that would be the case for Spencer. 

Penelope was armed with yet another get well soon card, and you had a bag of Spencer’s favorite coffee in hand as an incentive for him to wake up soon. When you neared room 18, you saw a large team of medical workers walking away and your heart instantly kicked up, pounding in your ears as you made your way over to the room which had the curtain drawn. As you pulled back the curtain, you were met with a sight that brought tears to your eyes. Spencer was off of the ventilator! “Oh my God, Spence!” you whispered, your hand covering your mouth as you dropped the coffee and rushed over to his bedside. 

“Hey,” Spencer said, his voice hoarse from lack of use over the last week. 

“Oh my God! Oh my God! You’re awake!” Penelope said hurriedly. She rushed over and kissed the top of Spencer’s head before saying, “I’ll give you two some time together and go tell the team! I love you two, and I’ll be back soon!”

“Love you too, Penny,” you replied before turning your attention back to Spencer. 

“Thank you,” you whispered as you gently nuzzled yourself into the crook of Spencer’s neck. 

“For what?” he asked as he wrapped his right arm around you. 

“For coming back to us,” you told him, pulling away and guiding his hand to your bump. 

“I’ll always come back to you,” he said, a fond smile on his face as he gazed at your growing belly and then up to your face. “You know…” he started, his voice wobbly with emotion. “When the car was hit, all I could think about while it was flipping was you and our little girl. How I couldn’t leave the two of you here alone. So before everything went black, I told myself that I needed to fight to get better. I knew that if the worst did happen, the team would support you through it all, but… I’m so happy it didn’t have to come to that. I love you both. So much.”

“I love you too, Spence,” you whispered before leaning over to give him a gentle kiss. “Once you get out, no more hospital stays ‘til she’s here, got it?”

Spencer chuckled before nodding and telling you, “Got it.”

And he kept that promise. After he was released, the next time the two of you fell asleep in a hospital room was after the birth of your baby girl and you were so grateful for the better circumstances for the stay.

and that is Tuna-Tober Day One done! enjoy!

ps: how freaking cute is Spence in that gif?? i love him!

likes and comments are always appreciated! xo, brooke <3

taglist: @reidmarieprentiss

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✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: SLEEPOVER 🐟✨

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Day 1 - Sleepover

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

Sleepover

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Matt shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“I suppose.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Besides, pizza sounded like a nice change from ramen.

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

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

“Fort Murdock-Nelson?” Matt repeated.

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How old was she?”

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

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

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

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

Author’s Note

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

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✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: SOMNOPHILIA 🐟✨

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

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

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Chapter Summary:

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

Wordcount: 3.3k words

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

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

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

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

Well, that was one way to be welcomed home.

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

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

Asleep. 

You were dreaming, then.

Maybe even dreaming of him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. 

You were wearing his shirt. 

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

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

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

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

Gentle. 

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

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

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

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

God, your scent. 

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

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

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

“M… Matt.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stuttered breathing, each breath hiding a faint moan. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Satisfied with what he’d given you. 

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

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

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✨🐟PROMPT 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!🐟 ✨

Up All Night

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x fem!Reader Word Count: 1.7k [Tuna-Tober Masterlist]

Tuna-Tober Prompt: Falling asleep in a hospital room

Warnings/tags: Mentions of violence/canon-typical violence, confession of feelings, light angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: You wake up in a hospital bed wondering how you got there.

a/n: Because Mikey always needs more love, I had him on my brain to kick off Tuna-tober. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

A muted, burning pain tore its way up through your abdomen. The feeling had first started off dull–almost like a faint tickle–but gradually the sensation grew sharp and searing, quickly becoming impossible to ignore the further you groggily returned to consciousness. Gritting your teeth together, your eyes squeezed tighter shut as the pain coursed its way up your left side in shuddering waves. Steadily becoming aware of your entire body starting with your partially numb toes, you whimpered softly to yourself. But that persistent dull pain near your stomach easily overshadowed the stiffness in your legs and the uncomfortable ache in your back.

Why did you hurt so much?

Something light brushed along the back of your hand and you startled at the touch. Eyes flying open at the soft contrast to the piercing burn in your gut, you were desperate to see who was here with you–wherever here was. Though your eyes immediately snapped shut again as an unexpected bright light blinded you. That's when you felt a similar sharp, searing sensation in the palms of your hands, too.

“Mmmph,” you groaned. “Hurts.”

“I should think so,” the unmistakable voice of Birdy met your ears. “Ya did try to stop a knife with yer bare hands, dear.”

Your brows knitted together as her words slowly registered in your ears. Attempting to open your eyes again, you squinted up at Birdy's face where she towered above you. There was a solemn expression there as she gazed back down at you.

“What?” you croaked out, voice thick from disuse.

“Ya jumped in front of a knife unarmed, love,” she repeated. “The asshole managed to stab ya in the stomach after slicin’ yer hands up. But he wasn't breathin’ much longer past that, or so I'm told.”

Listening to Birdy’s explanation carefully, you tried to recall any of what she'd said. The last thing you could remember was being called to meet Frank, Jimmy, and Michael down at the pub. After that, you could only recall brief flashes–a black hooded sweatshirt, cigarette smoke, panicked screams, and a blinding white hot burst of pain.

A frown settled onto your mouth as you lightly shook your head. “Why…why would I do that?” you asked her. “I don’t–don’t exactly remember what happened.”  

Birdy’s lips gradually curved upwards into a warm smile before she took a pointed step back from the hospital bed you’d soon realized you were lying in. Her head turned over her shoulder and your eyes followed to where hers had focused. Slumped in half in a chair across the room was Michael. He looked uncomfortable passed out in the tiny seat, his body awkwardly hunched in on itself. There was a deep frown drawing his mouth downwards, a slight crease between his brows. His dark hair was tousled and sticking up in places as if he'd been running his hands through it for awhile.

“Because ya saved Mikey's life,” Birdy explained softly. “That asshole came outta nowhere outside the pub. He was lookin’ for Mikey, but it was you who spotted him first. Placed yerself between him and Michael. Tried to take the knife with yer bare hands. Unfortunately he got ya once before Mikey took care o’ him.”

Eyes growing wide, they returned to Birdy. Slowly her own gaze focused back on you, one brow quirking up onto her forehead as her smile grew wider.

“Michael did what?” you asked in shock.

“He saw to it that the asshole got what was comin’ to him,” she answered. “No one hurts one o’ our own. Ya should know that by now, dear.”

There was something more to the look on Birdy’s face, something hiding just beneath the surface, but it felt like there was a fog in your head making it hard to concentrate. Whatever more she might’ve meant, it was too much for you to piece together.

“One of…yer own?” you repeated, the crease between your knitted brows growing. “But ‘m'not a Kinsella.”

“Mmm,” Birdy hummed out, one hand patting the space beside your leg. “Should probably wake our poor Michael,” she said, your clouded mind noticing that she'd intentionally changed the topic. “Been here all night waitin’ for ya to finally wake up.”

“He–he was?” you asked.

“Think hospital staff were a wee bit scared o’ him,” she continued in amusement, her heels clicking along the floor as she made her way towards him in the chair across the room. “Guests aren't s'posed to stay o'ernight. Yet Mikey here stayed awake all night with ya.” She came to a stop in front of him, a sympathetic look on her face as she fondly gazed down at him. “Poor man only fell asleep a bit ago.”

Your attention shifted back down to Michael still asleep in the chair. The thought of him staying here all night in your hospital room had something warm and hesitant settling into your chest. You'd always had feelings for him, ever since that day he'd been released from prison and you’d actually met him. He wasn’t like the rest of his family, which had drawn you right towards him, but he'd never seemed to notice you more than he needed to, contacting you only when he needed help with something for a job. 

“Mikey, love,” Birdy said, shaking his shoulder gently. “She's finally awake, pet.”

Michael's eyes flew open at the sound of her voice, his head darting straight up almost instantly. He looked completely alert, his attention quickly shifting from Birdy before over to where you lay. When his eyes met yours from across the room, you felt your breath catch. You hoped the heart monitor you were connected to hadn't given away the jolt you'd just felt in your chest as a nervous energy washed over you.

Michael pushed himself up and out of the chair, one of his hands running through his hair as he continued to stare back at you without a word. Beside him, Birdy’s eyes swept back and forth between you both with a growing grin.

“I'll come check in on ya later, dear,” she said to you.

Michael stood rooted to the floor, unmoving even as Birdy reached up to plant a quick peck to his cheek. You saw her lips move beside his ear, but she spoke so softly that you couldn't quite catch whatever she'd said to him. She patted his shoulder afterwards before making her way towards the exit without a backwards glance.

And then it was just you and Michael.

He didn't speak for a long time, his silence only increasing the tension in the air of your hospital room. The nerves in your stomach swirled uncomfortably as you chewed the inside of your cheek. One of your bandaged hands began toying with the stiff hospital sheets as you waited for him to say absolutely anything.

“Why'd ya do that?” he finally asked, breaking the silence. 

“Do what?” you cautiously questioned back.

“Try to stop a goddamn knife with yer damn hands?” he snapped.

You recoiled on the bed in surprise at his angry outburst. Michael had lost his temper before, but in all the time you’d known him, he'd never lost it with you. You weren’t entirely sure how to respond as you lay there beneath the growing fire in his beautiful eyes.

Michael began to stalk his way towards the side of your hospital bed and you stiffened along the hard mattress, the pain in your abdomen sending another jolt through you at the movement. His hands had clenched into tight fists at his sides as he moved with a fury you'd rarely personally witnessed in him.

“That was reckless and so fuckin’ stupid o’ ya,” he snarled. “Ya coulda been killed last night. D’ya realize that? And for what?”

Swallowing hard, you held his heated stare. As terrifying as he was standing there tense and furious, you couldn't help but grow curious as to why Michael Kinsella himself had stayed the entire night in your hospital room. Part of you was beginning to hopefully suspect it was the same reason you'd done what you'd done.

“For you,” you quietly admitted.

He'd opened his mouth, clearly about to continue shouting and scolding you, but your answer had appeared to surprise him straight into a momentary silence. His dark brows drew even tighter together, his lips still parted in shock. A flutter of nerves tore through your sore body next.

“What?” he asked, the edge completely fading from his voice. 

“The night remains a bit fuzzy,” you explained quietly, watching the hard lines of his features soften, “but that guy was comin’ for ya. So I…did it to protect ya.”

The tension continued to visibly ease out of his body. His shoulders gradually relaxed, his hands beginning to unclench from the fists they'd been curled in. The expression on his face switched to one of confusion now as he gazed down at you.

“Why?” he asked. 

You shrugged lightly, wincing a little. “I suspect for the same reason ya stayed here awake all night,” you answered. “Because ya…matter to me.”

Michael blinked rapidly, as if the idea that he meant something to you seemed too ludicrous to believe. Your heart twisted at the sight. 

“But–but I'm not worth riskin’ bein’ killed over,” he countered. 

“Well, Michael Kinsella,” you murmured softly, reaching your injured hand out towards him, “I happen to disagree.”

Michael visibly swallowed hard, the fire in his eyes melting into something hard to decipher. The corner of his lips began to twitch so minutely you almost hadn't caught the movement. And then slowly, his large hand reached out and gently wrapped around your bandaged one very carefully. You smiled up at him, squeezing his fingers despite the searing pain that shot through your hand. 

“How long?” you whispered. 

Shyly, he smiled back down at you with tears welling in his eyes. “Since that God awful party Amanda threw when I was released from prison,” he whispered back. “The second I first saw ya standin’ quietly at the back o’ the group.”

You laughed lightly, but the pain in your mid-section quickly cut the sound off. “What a coincidence,” you told him, trying to smile despite the pain. “‘Cause that was the same moment I knew.”

Michael’s smile briefly slipped, concern returning to his features. “But don’t think I’m done scoldin’ ya for what ya did. ‘Cause I’m not.”

“‘Course yer not,” you said with a grin. 

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

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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: FALLING ASLEEP AT THE HOSPITAL 🐟✨

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

Day 1 - Why?

Prompt(s): 1 - Falling Asleep at the Hospital Character: Frank Castle Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader Word Count: ~600 Warning: Injury, blood, referenced canon character deaths, implied PTSD Tags: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist

Why?

Frank was sitting, your hand clasped tightly in his.

Unlike previous occasions, the chair was uncomfortable. Made of that hard molded plastic that numbed his ass within ten minutes of sitting in it. And too small for his long legs. It felt like his knees were level with his ears. But worse than the chair was that your hand wasn’t holding his back. It was limp.

Warm and limp, thankfully. The soft beep-beep of the heart monitor was reassuringly steady. The docs had said you should recover just fine. Frank hadn’t really understood what the surgeon had said but he understood the bottom line. That the bullet hadn’t done as much damage as was initially feared. You had lost a lot of blood but you’d live. Just a scar and PT to help keep your damaged shoulder as mobile as possible.

You were lucky.

It didn’t feel lucky. What would have been lucky is you not getting shot in the first place. What would have been lucky was Frank noticing that fucking bastard pointing a gun at him before you did. Once again, he swore viciously as himself for not seeing the danger until it was too late. Too late to stop you from pushing him out of the way. Always too damn late. It was his curse.

Frank blinked. Sleep was dragging at him. He had been awake for well over a day by this point. But he fought it. He knew what awaited him.

The vivid crimson blossoming across your white shirt like a gruesome flower, that soft ‘sorry’ as you lost consciousness, feeling your pulse slow under his hands . . . it would be joining the image of Maria so horribly still, her hair so black against that green-green grass . . . . the feeling of his son’s brains splattered across his chest . . . that gaping maw where his little girl’s face should have been . . .

Another pair of dead eyes staring accusingly at him, bloody lips demanding Why? Why didn’t you protect me? Why didn’t you save me from this? Why?

Why? That was the question that kept running around his brain. Why? Why did you do that? Why did you sacrifice yourself for him? Almost died for him? Why? He was a killer. A monster. A monster who hunted other monsters but still a monster. Nobody should be giving their life to save him. 

Especially not you. Not you. Not for him. Not for anyone.

He shook himself and made a silent vow. Never again. You were never taking another bullet for him. You were never going to bleed for him again. He didn’t care what he had to do to accomplish it but you were going to outlive him. 

He wasn’t burying anyone else. He refused. He’d fight God if he had to.

Just like he’d fight sleep. You had almost died. He wasn’t leaving you unguarded.

He almost ignored the notification chime on his phone. But so few people had that number, he ended up looking at the text message.

Red: Go to sleep, Frank. I’m standing watch.

He scowled. Tempted to tell him to fuck off. But practicality won out. He couldn’t stay awake forever. And he knew just how persistent Red was. Anyone coming after you would have to kill the bastard to stop him. And that was annoyingly difficult to do . . . Red was like the world’s worst cockroach. Not even a building collapsing on him could get rid of him.

Another chime. Red: Frank, sleep. Now.

“Bossy,” Frank muttered as he shifted into a - somewhat - more comfortable position in the chair, knowing full well that Red could hear him.

Red: K will be by in the morning with fresh clothes for you both. Goodnight, Frank.

He glared at the phone. Smug little . . . he made a mental note to kick his ass. Later. For now, Frank closed his eyes and tried to get some rest.

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: FALLING ASLEEP AT THE HOSPITAL🐟✨

✨🐟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 1

Hello everyone! As the title suggests, this is Day 1 of Tuna-tober! We're starting the month off with a new character! I hope you all enjoy!

Tuna-tober prompt: Falling asleep in a hospital room

Word count: ~850

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

It all happened so fast. The fight breaking out, Logan unsheathing his claws to scare them, you seeing a man with a gun pointed at Logan. In the moment, you panicked. You forgot about Logan's healing factor and you just moved. You tried wrestling the gun from the man but then it went off and that was really the last thing you remembered. 

Now, you're slowly joining the realm of consciousness. You hear a steady beeping and the sound of someone's soft breathing. Opening your eyes, it takes you a second to recognize where you were. 

The hospital. Being shot. So much blood. A fuzzy face above you. Logan! 

You immediately try to sit up but pain lances through you at the motion. You hiss out in pain and it causes the person beside you to shift. It catches your attention and you turn your head to see who it is. A smile immediately grows on your face as you realize it's Logan asleep in the chair next to your bed. He looks a little rough, his beard grown out and bags under his eyes. He's in sweatpants and a hoodie and his massive form barely seems to fit in the little hospital chair they've given him.

“Oh, Lo.” You whisper, aching to reach out and touch him. But he'd made it clear to you in the past that he wasn't to be touched in his sleep. He didn't want to risk hurting you. So you leaned back in the bed and watched him for several minutes. You knew he would've wanted you to wake him up but you couldn't resist getting to see him so at peace.

But your time watching him was short lived as the door to your hospital room opened, waking Logan and startling you. Charles rolled through the door and he smiled when he saw you awake.

“It's good to see you awake, my dear. You gave us quite the scare.” He told you. You felt your cheeks warm and you looked down at your lap.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make anyone worry. Is everyone else okay?” You asked. You hadn't been out with just Logan, after all. Jean, Scott, and Ororo had been there too.

“Everyone is fine. Don't you worry about them. For now, your concern should lie with yourself.” You nodded slowly. You could feel Logan's stare burning into the side of your skull, but you steadfastly ignored him for the moment. 

“Right. Am I okay? I know I was shot but things get fuzzy after that.” You tell Charles. He nods and moves a little closer.

“You're going to be just fine. The bullet didn't hit anything vital, thankfully. You'll just be spending a few days here in the hospital so you can heal.”

Charles looked between you and Logan and smiled.

“I'll leave you two be. We'll see you soon.” And with that Charles wheeled himself out of the room. Now, you couldn't ignore Logan's angry stare any longer and so you slowly turned your head to face him.

“Lo-”

“What the hell were you thinking? Huh? Have you lost your mind? Is that it?” Oh, he was seething. You looked down at your lap again and tried to ignore the stinging in your eyes.

“Hey, look at me when I'm talking to you. This is important. You don't ever do something like that again. Do you hear me?” 

“I can't promise that.” You tell him. 

“Why the hell not?” He stands, towering over you. It's as if he's trying to intimidate you into doing what he wants and that's what finally pisses you off. You whip your head up to glare at him, tears stinging in your eyes again.

“Because I care about you, Logan! Fuck. You're right, I wasn't thinking. I just saw the gun pointed at you and I panicked, okay?!” 

“Not okay. What if you'd been hit somewhere vital? You don't heal like I do! You could have been seriously hurt. Or killed. You think I want that to happen?” 

“Of course I don't think you want me to die. But Logan, I don't want anything happening to you either. Logically, I know you can take a bullet and be fine, but that doesn't mean I want you too.” You tell him. His face softens a little at that and he sighs, sitting back down and scooting the chair close to your bed. 

“Just don't scare me like that again, okay? I can't take it.” He tells you. You reach for his hand and you're pleasantly surprised when he gives it to you. You lace your fingers together and give him a squeeze. 

“I'll try not to. I didn't exactly enjoy being shot.” You tease and are happy when he smiles. 

“All the more reason not to do it again.” He tells you. You two stay like that for a while, bantering back and forth. Something you were more than happy with. He may not have confessed his feelings to you, but he did admit he cared. And that was enough for you.

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟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)

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

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.

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: OVERSTIM🐟✨

✨🐟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 Tricks Day 1:

Overstimulation - Logan Howlett. 

Warnings: Riding, power bottom!reader, fellatio, overstimulation, orgasm torture, use of Daddy.

Let’s goooo! Kicking this off with a bang. Make sure to check out my fellow Tunas who are posting for Tuna Tober!

MDNI I AM DEAD SERIOUS

“Fuck, baby, that’s it.” Logan groaned, head tipping back to hit the headboard with a dull thud as you continued to grind in slow circles on his cock, both of his hands were occupied with your nipples, twisting and tweaking the stiff peaks like he was fidgeting with his keys. “Just like that, pretty girl.” He was cut off with another throaty groan as your hips twisted just the right way and a white hot bolt of pleasure shot up his spine.

“Feels so good, Logan.” You moaned breathily, torso undulating languidly while you worked yourself on his cock. The soft caress of curly hairs on your inner thighs when you ground down on him left a sweet tingle on your skin, goosebumps raising on your arms as you got closer to your orgasm. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Logan was damn-near transfixed, eyes flitting over your body on his. The sheen of sweat dusting your chest and shoulders, the flush in your face that he could just see in the dim light. Shit-

“Oh, fuck-” The sound that came from his mouth was nothing short of pornographic, and you felt the tensing in his abdomen and the twitch in his cock as he finally succumbed to his orgasm, his hands trying but not really trying to slow your hips as you continued to grind on him, milking every last drop of him into your body, mouth dropped open on a soft moan at the feeling. “Fuck, baby, it’s too much.” Logan protested gruffly, nudging a little more insistently at you as he got more and more sensitive.

“But I’m not done yet, baby.” You teased, dipping your head to press chaste kisses across his cheek down to his neck, continuing your slow rolling pace even as Logan started to gasp and stutter beneath you, bucking into your hips and squirming… You couldn’t tell if he was trying to get closer or trying to push away. “Don’t you wanna make me feel good?” He moaned at your words, rolling his neck to give you room for your kitten kisses, the soft breeze of your lips suddenly felt like heavy blows on his sensitive skin… But still he didn’t push you off.

Surprisingly, he let you continue to ride him, the tingles bordering on pain the longer he spent inside you. He could feel his cum leaking out of you and smearing on his balls with every roll of your hips, a soft smacking sound coming from between your bodies as you sought your own release. “Baby, cum please.” He whined, hips twitching at every sweet twist of your hips on him. “Can’t take it doll, shit.” He gripped your hips tighter, fingers digging into the soft flesh as you moaned, teetering on the edge of your orgasm as Logan was almost blind from the stimulation. “Come on, honey, cum.” Logan was practically begging, slipping one of his hands over your hip to run circles around your clit, driving you over the edge as you cried out, continuing to ride him through your orgasm as Logan grunted and bucked at the continued pulsing of your walls around his poor cock. Clenching and squeezing and, shit-

He was cumming again, cock alight with lightning as he screwed his eyes shut, moaning lowly as you took and took and took until he was shivering under you, pupils blown out and mouth slack, watching as you slipped off of him and leaned down to kiss him roughly. When you left his mouth he choked on a gasp and a moan, a moan that deepened as you kissed down his chest to his stomach, still further, the feeling of your hair tickling his skin was nearly unbearable.

“Baby, please, I can’t.” He protested half-heartedly, pushing a hand over your hair to hold it gently, shouting a curse as your head dipped between his legs, licking around the base of his softening cock with the flat of your tongue. The heat was like lava, and needle-like pinpricks of pleasure dotted his skin as you mouthed your way up his length. Licking the prominent vein underneath until you reached the head, cruelly sucking the tortured, purple tip into your mouth only to release it with a harsh pop. “Fuck, honey, its too much-”

“Come on, daddy.” You murmured against the little raised edge on the underside of his cockhead, pulling it between your lips to tickle it with the tip of your tongue. “You got one more for me?” You smiled innocently as you swallowed the head again, laving at the underside where it met the shaft as you moaned around him, the vibrations jolting through his cock as he buckled underneath you, nearly shouting at the pleasure-laced pain.

You paid his noises no mind as you continued to mouth on his cock, squeezing the base with your hand and holding his balls with the other, coaxing another orgasm from his body. He was almost screaming now, gripping your hair tightly as you suckled on the tip of his cock, pulling the sweet reward from his skin with every deep pull. Logan howled as he came a third time, hips bucking into your mouth as you gently squeezed his balls, closing your eyes in a moan around him as you felt a spare few droplets of his orgasm land on your tongue. You continued your ministrations, suckling gently until he was long past the orgasm and his cock was soft and bloodless in your mouth. With one last kiss to the head of his cock, which made him jump at the touch, you crawled over his body with a smug smile, taking in his drunk expression and heaving chest.

“Thank you, baby.” You brushed a hand over his forehead, pushing the stray strands of hair out of the way. Your voice was sickly sweet when you bent to gently kiss his lips, the taste of his final orgasm still lingering on your lips. You rolled off of him with a soft sigh, tucking into his side to bask in the afterglow before you inevitably had to rise and clean up.

“You fucking monster.” Logan breathed, somewhere between a chuckle and a groan. You laughed, pressing a kiss to his shoulder with a pleased smile.

“Only for you, baby.”

Thanks for reading! Make sure to check back tomorrow for the next day! You can take a peek at what the prompt will be here! A special thanks to my fellow Tunas, in particular @bellaxgiornata @sunflowersandsapphires @madschiavelique @a-leg-without-fear @millennial-birkin @vigilxnte-shit @yarrystyleeza @pastafossa and everybody else in the server you guys are incredible and thank you for indulging in my insanity.

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: READING TO EACH OTHER 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

Reading to Each Other 🪻

day one of tuna tober y'all!! i'm SO fricking excited! :D

Ship: Duke Leopold Mountbatten x f!Reader

Rating: 13+

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings: lots of LOTR, tobacco mention, riddles, kissing, cuddles

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon. Rain pattered on your apartment's windows, the occasional roll of thunder booming outside. The spiced scent of your pumpkin candle floated through the living room air. Warm light shone from shaded lamps positioned on either end of your green-clothed sofa. A thick, soft blanket was draped over your lap.

You held your worn copy of The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. Images of a dark cave filled with still water and an eerie sense of calm floated from the yellowed pages. Sounds of whispered riddles and shaking hands holding shining jewelry bounced around inside your head. It was nearly impossible to read Tolkien and not get entirely engrossed.

"How's your book?" Leo asked from the other end of the couch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin. Your head snapped up from where you'd been hunched over your book, eyes wide, as you met Leo's amused gaze. A light laugh filtered through his bright smile.

"Sorry! Didn't mean to alarm you," he said, amusement clearly indicating that he wasn't sorry in the slightest. You shook your head and sighed at his antics.

"Uh huh. Sure," you groused with a growing smile.

Leo was equally curled up on his side of the sofa. Fluffy blanket draped across his lap, glasses fitted over his thin nose, copy of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen balanced in one of his hands. Hazel eyes trailed over the "grumpy" expression you'd forced over your face.

"Anything interesting standing out so far?" he asked, nodding to the book still clutched in your hands.

"I'm at one of my favorite parts, if that's what you mean," you replied as you burrowed deeper into the couch cushions. Leo tucked his bookmark into his novel, then set the book and his glasses on the end table nearest him.

"Care to elaborate?" he pressed with a cocked eyebrow. You bit your lip as you scanned over the pages again. Hisses and riddles and splashes of ground water leapt from the ink. Hmm. Riddles.

"Well, this part is about Bilbo bargaining, with a creature named Gollum, for his life. They're exchanging riddles as a sort of game," you explained, trying your best to not confuse a man who'd never heard of the Lord of the Rings.

"And what riddles are they?" Leo asked with a growing smile. He crossed his legs under his blanket to give you his undivided attention. You glanced between him and the book in your hands.

"You want to try and solve the riddles, or do you want me to read the whole part?"

"Just the riddles," he specified. You hummed in response.

"Alright, just know that they can get pretty tricky," you said in a singsong manner. Leo stared at you with apt interest as you turned to the correct page in your book. Inked words flew past your eyes, descriptions of swords and hobbits and tobacco and goblins filling your mind, nearly sucking you back into the story, before you found the first riddle. You cleared your throat and read, "What has roots as nobody sees, is taller than trees, up, up it goes, and yet never grows?"

"Has to be a mountain, isn't it?" Leo guessed almost immediately. He seemed rather confident in his answer, dimples digging into his cheeks with how wide his smile had stretched.

"Yup. Mountain," you answered, already thinking of which riddle to do next. Do you be nice and keep giving him the easier ones, or kick it up a notch? He did invent the elevator, after all.

"Give us a harder one, love," he said. That decides it for you, then.

"It cannot be seen, cannot be felt. Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt. It lies behind stars and under hills, and empty holes it fills. It comes first and follows after, ends life, kills laughter."

Leo blew out a long stream of air, "When I said hard, I didn't mean that hard!"

You refrained from making the obvious joke brewing at the back of your throat. An involuntary giggle leaked from your lips. You tried to play it off by resting your chin in your hand, fingers digging into your lips, to keep yourself quiet.

The room was quiet for a few moments as Leo considered the riddle. Raindrops trailed down the window, rivulets chasing each other and creating long tails that winded up the glass. This Sunday, utterly serene in its quality, was one of many you'd gotten to experience with Leo. Something about him just garnered peace in your life.

"Do I get a hint?" he asked with a sigh. You grinned at him from under your fingers.

"If Bilbo doesn't get a hint, neither do you," you said. Leo groaned, leaning back on the sofa and throwing an arm over his face. You couldn't help the laugh that breezed between your fingers.

"You are undeniably cruel," he grumbled under his arm.

"You wanted a harder riddle," you replied with a shrug. Leo grunted in return, making you laugh again. You waited a few more moments, letting him agonize over the riddle, before you decided to take pity, "What is it when your eyes are closed?"

"The hell are you on about? Is this a part two to the riddle?" Leo groused.

The blanket in your lap pooled into a pile on the floor as you crawled across the couch. Your sweatpants-clad legs framed Leo's hips, your hands running up his sides, as you sat in his lap. He begrudgingly lowered his arm and met your eyes.

"That was a clue. What do you see when you close your eyes?" you repeated as you ran your palms up and down his forearms. Leo's expression softened slightly.

"A spot of mercy," he said, smile returning, "I was wrong in labeling you cruel."

"Yeah yeah, Mr.1876. Just answer the damn riddle," you said as you rolled your eyes. Leo's warm palms found their usual place on your hips.

"You can't see it, feel it, hear it, or smell it. And closing my eyes has something to do with it," he listed, tongue darting across his bottom lip. A few more moments filled with pondering passed.

"For god's sake," you breathed as you clapped your hand over his eyes. The two of you had been together for so long that the action had hardly surprised him. You waited for a moment in hope that this obvious clue would help. Being met with only silence, you said, "What do you see right now?"

"Your hand, for one," Leo quipped back. He flinched with a laugh when you pinched him with your free hand.

"Close your frickin' eyes, Leo."

Silence settled over the two of you. Warm, comfortable, charged with amusement at your situation. Only Leo's smile could be seen from under your hand. His thumbs tucked under the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's dark," he finally said. You gave him a few moments to connect the dots. A gasp shook his chest, "Dark! That's the answer!"

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner!" you exclaimed as you dropped your hand from his eyes.

Pure elation crinkled in the corners of his hazel eyes. He hugged you closer to his chest, a laugh shaking where your bodies met. You couldn't help but join in. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders to steady yourself.

"Do I get a prize for so effortlessly solving the riddle?" Leo asked with a hint of sarcasm after the two of you had calmed a bit.

"I'm deducting points for the use of a hint," you hummed, feigning consideration at his question.

"And those points, will they affect the prize I know I've earned?"

You answered his question by pressing your lips to his. Both smiling, both clinging to the other with absolute adoration, the occasional giggle buzzing between you.

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon. It was raining outside, your candle had burnt down to the wick, and you were cradled in Leo's lap as you both read your respective books. Your back to his chest, blanket draped over both of your laps, his cheek rested on the crown of your head. Every now and then you'd read a part of your book aloud, garnering the same in return from Leo.

AHHHHHHHHH this is so frickin cute i might CRY!!! happy tuna tober everyone!!!

🌊TUNA-TOBER🌊 PROMPT CHALLENGE 2024

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

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

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

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

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

Without further ado, our prompts!

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

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

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

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

Day 5: Self-Loathing ⚜ Watergun Fight ⚜ Begging

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

Day 7: Nightmare ⚜ Honest Apology ⚜ Nothing Underneath

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 16: Exhaustion ⚜ Accidental Kiss ⚜ Against A Window

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🌊Tuna-Tober🌊 Backup Prompts:

Bound/Chained ⚜ Moving In Together ⚜ Almost Getting Caught

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

Insomnia ⚜ Adopting A Pet ⚜ Scent Marking

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