tunatober

Latest Posts by tunatober

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

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "Please look at me."🐟✨

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

Night Shift

Description: It’s been 10 years since Axl has seen Slash. The day his stepfather picked him up from Slash’s house was the last time he saw him. Now, they meet again.

Relationship: Axl Rose x Slash, Axl Rose x Izzy Stradlin

Prompt: “Please look at me” (Day 14)

Part 7 of “You’re My Red Rose”

Content Warning: Implied Mpreg

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1991

Axl walked through the halls of Tower Records, making his nightly checks as night manager. He was on the second floor where the studios were located to see if none of the equipment had been stolen. When he was walking to the last room a tidal wave of laughs were coming up the staircase. A group of five men were walking together with beers in his hand. Axl was going to tell them that they couldn’t have any food and drinks in the building when the site of the third man stopped him in his tracks.

It was…Slash.

They hadn’t seen each other since that night John threatened his father with his shotgun. Several emotions flowed through his body. Confusion, sadness, and anger were to name a few. He couldn’t move to hide. Slash spotted him as well. They stood there, staring at each other for several awkward seconds.

“Hey, guys, go ahead into the studio. I’ll be back in a minute.” Slash directed.

The dude, who had even curlier hair than Slash, briefly looked at Axl and smiled at him. He gave a small laugh and the group disappeared into the room. Slash started to walk towards him. Tears started to form in his eyes for the first time in years. To hide it, he looked down at his feet. His vision began to blur. He covered his face as the tears couldn’t be controlled any longer.

“Please look at me, Axl.” His sweet voice begged.

Axl struggled to. Every time he attempted to lift his head, it would just go right back down as more tears brewed. He was married and had a kid. This was wrong. He shouldn’t be having feelings for another, especially for someone who left him hanging for years. The last time they saw each other was against his will. Slash avoided him. Axl would try to approach him and he would go the other way. He went years wondering what his problem was. Slash gave him no closure. He had no choice but to let him go.

“I’m married.” Axl declared. “I have a daughter as well.”

His face dropped in shock. “Th-That’s great, Axl. I’m currently in a band called Tidus Sloan.”

“That’s cool.” He looked at the clock on the wall. 11:25 pm. “My shifts almost over. I should be heading out.”

“Ok. See you later?”

Axl nodded silently and headed downstairs. He got into his car, then began punching his steering wheel. Axl left Lafayette to not be reminded of the torture that town had put him through. He wasn’t prepared for one of the memories to bump into him at his job. And for the feelings to still be there after all these years.

His husband, Jeffrey, was sitting on the couch watching tv, waiting for him to come home like he always does. After taking off his shoes and setting them by the door, Axl bent down and kissed him.

“You had any trouble with Isla today?” Axl asked his routine question.

“No, she’s been an angel for once. She even went to sleep on time.” Jeffrey reported.

Isla was two years old and already showing signs that she had Axl’s temperament, which was a fear he had when he was pregnant. The pediatrician said her attitude was pretty normal for children her age, but he was still fearful of the possibility that she would never grow out of this. Axl worked from 3:30 to 11:30 at night for five days a week, which meant Jeffrey was home with her most of the day.

“So how was work?” He asked, hugging Axl from behind.

He grabbed hold of one of his giant hands. “It was fine until I ran into one of my exes”

“Who?” Axl could hear the anger in his voice.

Axl didn’t keep anything from Jeffrey. It was in the vows to not hold secrets and, so far, both of them have been honest with each other. He wanted this marriage to work.

“It was Saul. My very first boyfriend in matter of fact. His band is recording at the studio.”

“Did he say anything?” Jeffrey wondered.

Axl shook his head. “Not much. I told him I was married and he walked off.”

Jeffrey happily kissed his cheek. “This is why I love you.”

If only he knew what he really felt about him.

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Sleep Talking🐟✨

✨🐟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 14 - Sleep Talking

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader Word Count: 250 Content: Fluff, just lil drabble Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: A short and sweet one today; i’ve been really tired so i apologize for it not being longer. Also if you get the one reference i threw in there, kudos to you :) As always be sure to like, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!

Gojo only sleeping three hours a day was bound to give him some sort of consequence. . . it just happened to be sleep talking. At first you didn’t hear him muttering in the night, too tired from your missions to even question anything he said, but then the other night you did. 

“No, don't trip on the bananas,” Satoru mutters, while turning away from you in bed.

You slowly open your eyes, trying to get them to focus, “Hm?”

All you get back is a light snore and you turn to face him.

“But the bananas has gone bad.” He whines.

You smirk and reach up to grab his hand, gently squeezing it, “What bananas?”

“The ones Yuuji bought, he had to eat them all.”

“Oh really?”

He turns towards you, squeezing your hand back, but still asleep. “But Nanami didn’t even fall!”

You try your best to hide your snickering to not wake him up, “He flipped and landed perfectly!” He groans and turns away from you again, seemingly frustrated.

“You better show him you’re better than him.” You try to tell him, some of your laughter escaping.

“Yeah. . . you’re right sweetheart,” The smile on Satoru’s face was worth teasing him while he was asleep. In the morning you asked if he beat Nanami in their flipping competition. He didn't respond, he only gave you a confused look before shaking his head.

"If we did have a flipping competition I would win."

You roll your eyes, "That's what I figured."

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Self-Loathing🐟✨

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

I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU

Hey everyone, hope you’re having a great spooky season time, for me it’s been great but I got a little busy so I didn’t have a lot of time to write, but I’ll try to catch up, for now I hope you like this little blurb and if you have any idea or a request don’t doubt to send me an ask! Have a great day, lots of loves!

Prompt: Self-loathing- tuna_tober prompts challenge

—————

You remember the first time you met Taron, you it was your second year on RADA, he was always making him notice, You were on the same acting class, but you never thought you’ll have to do scene together, you were a little shy at first, you practice your scene together but when you were done you barely saw his face. That day you were getting ready to leave the classroom when Taron calls you.

-Hey, wait- he said as you turn around -so next week is the big test with the scene- you nod- I was thinking about maybe we can practice together before the big day.

-Sounds good, do you want to do it at lunch or…

-You really hard to asked for a date, you know?

-What?- you asked confused.

-I want to go on a date with you, but I’m not sure if you’re interesting in me or maybe your not and I’m just waisting your time- he said as he was about to walk away but you took his arm.

-I’m interesting, is just that, I’m not like you, I can’t express it so easy, but I’m interesting- Taron smiled at you.

-So dinner? Tonight?- he asked you again, his smiled grew bigger when you nodded.

You been together since that day, even thought he prefer to work on movies and you prefer the theatre but you always manage to be together, he took you to his red carpets, he was in every opening of your shows, he help you with your lines just as you help him with his lines and he love to take you to the sets. Just like that day, as he was filming you usually took time to walk around the set but this time you decide to watch him work, you were fascinate with his acting, but there were something in the way he sees at his costar, you haven’t notice her before, sure he introduced you to her but it was until now that you notice how pretty she was.

-I bet he is dating her- you heard one member of the crew said, you paid attention -I don’t buy it, that the girl he brought today is his girlfriend, and if that’s true I bet he is cheating her, I mean look at the way he looks at her, you can’t act that.

Before you knew it you were in Taron’s trailer, the only thing that was on your mind was Taron’s scene and what that crew guy said. You were so absorb in your thoughts that you didn’t notice that Taron was in the trailer until he touch your shoulder, his smile fade when he look at your face.

-Hey, are you ok? What happened?

-I… are you cheating on me?- your question took him by surprise.

-What?

-Come on Taron, I’m not naive, I see how women stare at you, I’ve seen your costars and all of them are beautiful, with the perfect body, the skinny legs, with great boobs and then is me, I’m totally different, I’m not like them the only thing I can do is sing and if you don’t want to be with me is ok but…

-Hey hey hey slowed down- he said when he notices the tears coming from your eyes -where is this coming from? You were fine when I left you- you bite your lip.

-One of the crew members said that you were in love with Anne- you said -for the way you look at her and it was impossible that I was your girlfriend and… he’s right…

-Not his not, he’s an ass and he should be talking about us- he said a little angry before he kneel in front of you -I love you since that first day of Mr. Robbins’s class, I love all of you, your body, for me is perfect, perfect face, perfect ass, perfect legs and perfect boobs, which I’m conveniently in the perfect sight- you rolled your eyes as you giggles -for me you’re everything, Yn.

-but…

-but you want to know what am I thinking to see Anne like that?- he asked you.

-What?- you asked a little afraid of the answer.

-You, on that firs date, with that amazing dress you wore even with that stain of wine- you laughed -It’s real when I say that I love you Yn, and I love you with all my heart, I can sing you I will always love right now so you can believe me- you laughed before you kiss him.

-And I- you start to sing softly -will always love you.

-fuck I love you sing.

-I love you Egerton- you said.

-I love you too YLN- he said -Fore ever and ever.

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Playful Kiss🐟✨

✨🐟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 13 - Playful Kiss

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader Word Count: 636 Content: Fluff, Gojo being Gojo, some more of Gojo and reader at Jujutsu High together Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: I had a completely different idea for playful kiss, but that was only after I had finished writing this one. It still plays out the same, but it's a different situation. . . I might post it separately from the Tuna-Tober prompts 👀. Be sure to like, reblog and comment if you wanna read more like this!

You always had a set of rules when it came to sparring with Satoru Gojo.

He couldn’t use his infinity.

You had to stay within school grounds.

You couldn’t use your technique against him.

Fairly simple rules and you both stuck to it pretty well. You wanted to improve on your hand to hand combat and Gojo needed to be less reliant on his infinity to keep him safe. You keep reminding him of that but he always shrugs your concern off; he’s the strongest after all, he doesn’t need to improve.

You only needed those three rules. . . until the incident.

Gojo has you pinned down flat on the training grounds, a teasing smile on his face.

“And here I thought you wanted to improve,” He looks down at you, “But now I get to look at you pinned underneath me.” You flush and look away from him. He’s been flirting with you for a few months now but he never once acts on it. Embarrassment washes over you as you think about how easily his words have an affect on you even after all this time.

“One more round?” You mutter, still not looking towards him.

He stands up and reaches a hand down to you, “Only if you can handle losing to this pretty face again,” You smack his hand away and get up on your own.

“Yeah we’ll see about that,” You wipe the dirt off your face as you start to prepare yourself. 

He tilts his head to the side, standing in a casual position, not even bothering to put a single ounce into this fight. You run up towards him and he immediately dodges your attack, ducking down and moving to his left. 

“Come on pretty, I know you’re better than that,” He brings his arm up to block your leg from kicking into his face.

He tries to grab onto your ankle but you run past him before he has the chance. The only thoughts running through your brain are different strategies on how to catch him off guard.

Run up behind him? No, his six eyes tell him everything he needs to know about where you are. 

Maybe a black flash? You definitely don’t have enough cursed energy built up to do that yet.

You could always. . . kiss him. . .  

The thought enters your brain and you still for a moment. You turn around and Satoru is ready to pin you back down to the ground but before he can, your hands grab onto his collar and you kiss him.

His eyes widen before they close and he starts kissing you back, his hands wrapping around you. Before he can hold onto you, you push your arms against his, pull away from him and pin him to the ground.

Your face is a bright shade of crimson as he looks at you with shock.

“See I told you I-I’d win this time, I just-” you catch your breath, “I-I needed to-” 

He pulls you down to him and he kisses you again, more urgently this time. You stiffen, but as you keep kissing your body relaxes into his.

“You didn’t win that by the way,” Satoru says in between kisses. You pull away from him, his hands resting on your hips.

“I did win, thank you.”

“You cheated,” He says matter of factly, trying to lean you back down to his lips but you straighten up.

You bring your hands down on his chest, “I didn’t!”

“You kissed me, it doesn’t count!”

You argue about if you won or not and in the end Gojo decides to be nice and let you have the win. Now there’s a fourth rule between you two during sparring, no kissing each other.

You've both broken that rule more times than you can count.

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Playful Kiss🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

Playful Kiss🪻

need me a wolvie kissie

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

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

dreams unwind, love's a state of mind

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

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

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

word count: 2.1k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was Logan Howlett too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Logan?"

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

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

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

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

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

His girl. His princess.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"God I wish that were true."

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

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

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

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

"I don't fuckin' care."

"I don't want to get caught–"

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

"My shirt!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But–"

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

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

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

This was something he could steal for himself.

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: A hug that lasts a little too long + Tears + “I did it for you” 🐟✨

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

Found

Description: Axl’s stepfather found out where Slash lived and threatens them if they don’t let Axl come back home with him. He gives in so he doesn’t let Slash and his family get hurt.

Relationship: Axl Rose x Slash

Prompt: A hug that lasts a little too long (Day 10), Tears (Day 11), “I did it for you” (Day 12)

Part 6 of “You’re My Red Rose”

⚠️WARNING⚠️: DEATH THREATS, GUN

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It was close to midnight. Axl couldn’t sleep once again. He rested on Slash’s chest, who was half asleep, listening to his heartbeat and steady breaths. There hadn’t been any word from his parents or any news that they had reported him and Mia as missing. Axl wasn’t going to take that as being in the safe zone. Knowing John, he would probably be taking matters in his own hands.

Axl regretted running away. One day John was going to find them and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

As if the universe was listening to his thoughts, there was a loud pounding at the door. Axl immediately knew who that was and sunk deeper into the blankets. His grip around Slash tightened. The sound of his heart echoed in his ears. Sensing that something wasn’t right, Slash awakened and asked him what was wrong. He explained to him in a whisper.

Footsteps could be heard walking down the hall and stairs. Then, there was the creak of the door followed by screaming and yelling.

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY CHILDREN?!” The blaring voice yelled angrily.

“I don’t know what you are talking about. Now I would have to ask you to leave or I am going to call the police,” Jerry replied in a calm but stern tone.

“Don’t play fucking stupid. I seen them walk into this house the other day.” The voice stopped, then there was the sound of a gun cocking. “Either give me my kids or your brains will be splattered all over this floor.”

Axl and Slash immediately jumped out of bed and raced to the top of the stairs. John was standing at the entrance with a shotgun pointed at Jerry’s face. Jerry had his hands up in surrender. He lowered the gun when he saw Axl staring back at him. Axl slowly crept down the steps, heart still racing. Slash followed closely behind him.

“Go get your sister and get in the truck NOW!” John demanded, putting the shotgun back into safety.

Axl had no choice but to listen. He went to the spare bedroom where Mia was sleeping. Kadejah had woken up by then and was watching him from the bedroom door.

“I can call the police if you want,” she whispered.

Axl declined, knowing what the end result would be if she did. He went to Mia’s bedside and gently shook her awake. She fluttered her eyes open.

“What you want, Billy?” she asked, yawning afterwards.

He brushed her messy hair back, trying not to cry. “Dad’s here to pick us up.”

“I don’t want to go back.” She poked out her bottom lip.

“I-I know you don’t, but we have to if we don’t want Mr. and Mrs. Hudson get in trouble,” he explained, lifting her head.

He quickly put on the slippers Kadejah had bought her. Mia extended her arms in a way to ask him to pick her up. He clambered down the stairs, increasing his grip when John crossed his sight again. A creepy smile spread across his face as he stared at the little girl. He attempted to caress her cheek, which Mia pulled back from, hugging Axl’s neck.

Axl placed her on the floor, wanting to say bye to Slash. He walked up to him. No words would come out of his mouth. His eyelids started to burn as they filled with tears. All he could do was hug him. Slash wrapped his arms around him, rubbing circles on his back. Axl cried onto his shoulder. Scared. Afraid. Angry.

Through the tears, he said, “Thank you for letting us stay here.”

“I did it for you.,” Slash soothed.

John yelled at him to hurry up. Axl started to kiss him, but he remembered what would happen if he did. With one last quick hug, Axl and Mia got into John’s truck, Andrew in the passenger seat. More tears escaped as they started to pull out the driveway.

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Breast Worship🐟✨

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

Day 11 - Breast Worship (18+)

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

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

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

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

“Satoru?”

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

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

“Hell if I know.”

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

“Satoru, what-?”

“Did you mean what you said last night?”

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

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

“You’re used to me rushing into sex?”

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

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

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

“We aren’t right now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t laugh.”

He tightens his hold around you, “Fine.”

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

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

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

“Never that hard?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "You remembered?"🐟✨

✨🐟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 12 - "You remembered?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your drink smells different,”

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

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

“Aw what? Matt, come on!” Karen says.

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

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

“No I didn’t I- wait you remembered?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well?”

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

Matt grins, “It was a funny,”

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

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

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

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

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

Late Night Chats

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

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

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

Tuna-tober Day 11

"I'm not doing anymore Tuna-tober prompts. I'm too stressed for it." In which I am a clown 🤡 I spit this out yesterday at work in my downtime so I've no idea if it's any good. But I hope you enjoy this angst!

Prompts: Tears + "I'd be lost without you."

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 1041

The sound of yours and Matt's soft breathing was all that filled the apartment. You sat across from him as he laid on the couch. Foggy had left to get some air as you both waited for Matt to wake up. 

You eyed the stitches that crossed his body in several places and had to bring your hand up to your mouth, biting down on your fist to keep from sobbing. When Foggy had found Matt laying in his apartment, bleeding all over the floor, he had called you. When you got there, a nurse named Claire was just arriving too. She explained to you and Foggy that she had met Matt as the man in the mask and that she occasionally helped him. Grimly, she told you that he had never been this bad before. Which you knew. Foggy was angry when he realized that you knew about Matt's nightly activities and had not said anything. But you had calmly informed him that not only had you known Matt before you knew Foggy, but that you had met Matt as the man in the mask first. That had quieted him down.

When Foggy said he needed some air, you had quietly told him to go take a walk, that you would stay with Matt. Really, it had been just the excuse you were looking for. Now that you were alone, you were free to let your emotions take over. You kept your fist in your mouth to muffle the sobs that wracked your chest, staying quiet only so you didn't disturb Matt. Tears rolled down your cheeks and dripped from your chin, your hold on your emotions finally slipping. You cried like that for several minutes, until you heard Matt shift and groan quietly. Immediately your head whipped in his direction to see him blinking his eyes open.

“Matt…” you breathed softly, not wanting to startle him. His sightless eyes darted around and he slowly pulled the blanket that was on him off. 

“Where…?” He croaked, voice cracked from disuse. 

“You're home, Matty. You're safe.” You told him, keeping your voice quiet. You get up and go over to him, kneeling beside the couch. Your hands flit over him but not touching him, too scared to cause pain. Matt exhaled and seemed to calm some at your words and proximity.

“What happened?” He asked.

“You tell me. Foggy found you on the floor practically bleeding out. You're in pretty bad shape.” 

“Foggy?”

“Yeah… he knows. He's not happy. I told him to go take a walk to cool off.” Matt winced and you didn't know if it was from pain or from the knowledge that his best friend was angry with him. But you stood to go get him some painkillers just to be safe. Before you could get anywhere though, Matt's hand shot out to grab your wrist.

“Where are you going?” He asked, a touch of panic in his voice. You immediately shushed him, gently running your hand over his cheek.

“I'm just going to get you some painkillers. I'll be right back.” Matt hesitated before letting you go. You walked over to his cabinets and pulled out a glass for water and the bottle of painkillers he had. You filled the glass up then walked back over to Matt. It was quiet as he took the offered meds and water. You watched as he carefully leaned up to take them then immediately laid back down. It was quiet for a few minutes before Matt sighed.

“Go ahead.” Your brows furrowed.

“What?”

“You've got to be angry with me. So go ahead. Let me have it.” He looked so defeated in that moment that all you could do was cry. Your tears slipped free without your permission and you let out a wet laugh.

“Angry? Matt, you think I'm angry? I'm scared, you moron. I'd be lost without you. Absolutely lost. And yet you continue to through yourself into impossible fights. It's like you don't even care that I-”

“That you what?” Matt hitched out, bracing as if for a blow. You laughed again and shook your head. This wasn't the time for confessions and yet the words spilled from your tongue.

“That I love you. I love you, Matt. And you're determined to kill yourself.”

“I'm not. But I can't stop.”

“I'm not asking you to stop! I'm asking you to slow down, to think, to plan. I'm asking you to use that big, beautiful brain of yours to make better decisions.” Matt closed his eyes and sighed, wincing when the motion pulled at his wounds. It sobered you and had you reaching for his hand. When he didn't pull away, you took his hand in yours.

“Matt, I love you. And I just want you to be safe. You need body armor or something that protects you better than that black outfit.”

“I know.” He said. Then in a much quieter voice, one full of hope, he said, “You love me?” 

“More than I care to admit. But it doesn't matter right now. What matters is that you get better. We can talk about it later.” You told him, assuming since he hadn't said it back yet that he didn't feel the same way. But oh were you proven wrong. 

“It does matter. It matters a lot. Because I love you too. I've just been scared to admit it. But I do. I love you so much, sweetheart.” For what felt like the hundredth time that night, tears slipped from your eyes. You laughed quietly and wiped them away.

“Good. I could've lived without you loving me back but it would've been really hard.” You admitted. Matt smiled for the first time since he woke.

“Luckily that's not the case.” He said. Suddenly, he stiffened. “Foggy's coming back. Will you give us a minute?” You hesitated, not wanting to leave him when he was so vulnerable, before nodding. You kissed the back of his hand and stood.

“I'll be right outside if you need me.” You promised. He nodded grimly and let go of your hand. 

You would leave them to have their conversations but you would stay when it was over.

You would always stay.

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Sharing an Umbrella🐟✨

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

Sharing an Umbrella🪻

leo my love...

Ship: Duke Leopold Mountbatten x f!Reader

Rating: 13+

Wordcount: 499

Warnings: cursing

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

this is short and sweet :)

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sweater weather

pairing: michael kinsella x fem! reader

word count: 1.3K

tuna-tober prompt: breast worship

summary: you’re michael’s first stop after he’s released from prison.

warnings: mdni 18+! swearing, reader has pierced nipples, breast worship, i have no idea how to write irish dialects, probably poorly edited, idk what else. 🙃

tagging: @yarrystyleeza

a/n: ngl, i struggled writing this one. just wanted to post it to maintain fidelity to the prompt posting schedule. thanks for reading?

The relationship you had with Michael Kinsella was unconventional. You’d been childhood best friends until he drifted towards crime. He always called you an angel because of your ability to always do the right thing. He admired you and wished he could have been more like you and led a simple, quiet life. 

When he went away to prison you would write him letters and visit when you could, you even started a monthly book club together. The time you spent in the visitation room at Mountjoy Prison was sacred to you. The quiet laughter, and smiles yielded to tender hand holding and tight hugs goodbye. You would forgo most things in your life for just one hour with Michael. You developed a deeper relationship through these one on one visits. In your delusional mind, they were like dates to you. Each visit left you craving more of him, more of his touch. Your friends and family all thought it odd that you hadn’t brought a guy around in this span of eight years. You knew it was crazy but you were half in love with Michael Kinsella and wouldn’t entertain the subject of other suitors. 

After a week spent running on empty you sought solace in your home. You had ordered your favorite takeout, read a book and drank some tea while some quiet music played in the background. The aroma of bergamot, mahogany, and musk enveloping your cozy sitting room. As you finally felt your tension melting away, you were ready for sleep. You just finished brushing your teeth you heard a sudden knock on your door.

You open the door without taking a peek and you’re stunned silent as you see Michael standing in your doorway. You heart skipped a beat and your pulse quickened at the sight. 

“Michael,” you say breathlessly. Completely in shock he’s standing before you, and you feel really underdressed for this unexpected visit. He might be fresh from prison, but he looks good in his sweater and jeans. You’re wearing pajama shorts and a tight white t-shirt, not exactly dressed for company. Nevermind the cool air making its way inside, making your permanently hard, pierced nipples, that much more pronounced. 

“Hey pet,” Michael says with a smile looking you up and down. When his eyes land on your hardened nipples he quickly refocuses his gaze back to your face as his cheeks turn pink.

“Didn’t realize ya got out. Come in,” you stand aside offering him permission to enter your home. 

He blinks, smiles, and crosses the threshold, “Just got out a bit ago… Nice place ya got here,” he says as he admires your house. 

“Thanks, I was just gettin’ ready for bed…” you say.

Michael bites his lip and you catch him staring. 

“What’s a girl like ya doin home alone on a Friday night?” Michael asks as his gaze roams your body. Despite his feelings for you, he always encouraged you to not get attached or wait for him. Which you completely ignored, much to his delight.

“Needed a night in to myself,” you say with a small yawn. 

“I just wanted to see ya, and thank ya, yer visits kept me sane while I was locked up. I appreciate what ya did for me while I was in there,” he knows he’s rambling but he’s turning into a blushing, stuttering mess. The sight of you in your tight pajamas with those nipple piercings is driving him mad. He’s half hard already thinking about what they look like and the pretty sounds you’d make with them in his mouth. 

His thoughts devolve quickly into a lustful frenzy, it’s been so long since he’s had a woman. He definitely thought of you during his lonely nights in his cell. 

“Michael, my eyes are up here,” you tease him as you notice his eyes on your chest. 

“Sorry love, I just can’t stop starin’. I’m tryin’ to be a gentleman, but ya look too damn good and I’ve been wantin’ ya for so long,” he sighs as your beautiful figure wears him down. 

“Oh… ya like what ya see, hmm?” You ask playfully. 

“I do. Yeah. When did ya do tha’?” 

“Probably four years ago. Did it on my birthday. Always wanted to.” 

“Never would have figured ya’d be the kinda girl to do something so naughty,” Michael is openly gawking at your chest. 

“Michael. A lot has changed since high school,” you shrug your shoulders with a small laugh.

“I can tell, I like it,” he says as his pupils are blown wide and his face is flushed with desire. 

“Ya want to see them?” You ask cheekily. 

“Can I? Ya’d let me?” He’s biting his lip and looks hopeful like a little boy about to play with his favorite toy. 

You life your shirt up, taking it off in one fluid movement, walking up to him with a smile as you gently push him down onto your couch. Once he’s seated you unbuckle his belt, and unzip his jeans, pulling them down to his knees. You see the outline of his hard cock through his boxers. 

“Can I touch ‘em?” Michael looks up at you pleading. 

You nod your head and say, “I think we’ve waited long enough, Mikey, ya can do whatever ya want tonight. Full consent. I know how bad we both want this. Only wanna make ya feel good and make up for lost time,” you murmur gently in his ear. 

Witt your consent, Michael’s fingers trace the barbells and the perimeter of your perfect nipples. He’s so focused on how utterly perfect your tits are. His thumbs brush over your nipples and you shudder. 

“They make everythin’ a lot more sensitive,” you say with a small moan. 

“Tha’ right?” Mikey asks as he continues to brush his thumbs over your nipples. “So perfect, pet, just like I knew ya’d be.” 

His hands are massaging your tits as he rolls your nipples with his fingers. It’s so pleasurable, and it’s Michael giving you pleasure, something you’ve dreamed about for the longest time. You find your panties are becoming soaked as you grind down on his muscular thigh. 

Testing the water, Michael licks your nipple which pulls the most gorgeous moan from your mouth. 

“Oh, you like tha’?” He teases. 

“Fuck, yeah, I do,” you groan as you grind on him more. 

Your words and noises push him to do more, his little licks turning into full blown sucking on your nipple as his other hand continues to play with the other. He alternates the attention paid to each, ensuring equal attention is paid to your gorgeous breasts. 

Grinding down on his thigh is no longer enough to relieve the tension coiling in your belly. Your hand dips into the waistband of your underwear. They’re soaked through and you’re positive he can feel your slick all over his thigh. You start to rub your clit and this sends Michael over the edge. He’s sucking your tit harder into his mouth, teeth grazing over the barbell, gently tugging to make you lose control. 

“Fuck, Michael, yer mouth feels so good on me. I could come jus’ from this,” you moan as he continues to lavish your breasts with heated attention. 

“Mmm, pet, wanna go to the bedroom to find out what else my mouth can do to ya?” 

You’ve never agreed to anything faster in your life. Before you know it, Michael has you hoisted up, legs wrapped around his waist as he carries you to your bedroom for a night you won’t forget. 

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Fingertips

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You like that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tuna-Tober Prompt Challenge 2024

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Day 10 - "I'm not good enough"

Pairing: No specific pairing, but I guess a little bit of Satoru Gojo x Reader Word Count: 549 Content: Angst?? I don’t know; it’s not really fluffy but not really angsty either, it just is. Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: Another small taste into my upcoming Gojo x Reader series! This takes place during Gojo’s past arc and during this time is when Jujutsu High has their exchange event. This also gives a little taste into your cursed technique a little bit (oooooh ahhhhhh).

May 2007

The gym was filled with the sounds of fists hitting the cursed corpse relentlessly. Your hands don’t slow, if anything they get faster as you start to reach the zone.

Yaga stands on the sidelines watching you beat away every punch the cursed corpse was throwing at you. It too increasing its speed and cursed energy output. You focus your energy towards your palms, your eyes narrowing at the corpse’s face. It’s teeth bared out in a sneer as it reaches back to throw a punch at you.

You mimic its motion and as you start to throw your punch, the corpse grabs your right arm and throws you onto the ground, landing flat on your back. 

Haibara and Nanami grimace as you cough trying to catch your breath.

“I’m not good enough.” You sigh out, splaying your arms and legs out on the gym floor. Haibara starts to walk over to you to help you up but Yaga holds up his hand, stopping him.

“You’re focused on the wrong details.”

You chuckle, “Really now?” You flip onto your stomach and get up to stand. 

“It was obvious what intention you had going for the cursed doll.” Yaga leans down to pick it up and brushes off some dust, “You were going to do a Black Flash to destroy it.”

You look away, huffing out a sigh while crossing your arms, “No I wasn’t,” you mumble feeling caught.

“Right. If you have any hope of beating anyone from the Kyoto School you need to be better about masking your intent.” He puts the cursed doll back on the ground and it starts to do some fake stretching, its sneer never leaving its face. “The same goes for you two as well; Yu, you wear your heart on your sleeve, that will put you in danger and Kento you need to work more on your defense, you can’t always rely on your 7:3 technique.”

You glare at the doll and bring your hands up into a fighting position, “Again.”

A small smile appears on Yaga’s face as you breathe into your fighting stance. He nods his head at the doll who starts booking it towards you.

Breathe and focus. . . what was it that Gojo told you to do again?

“You want to get stronger right?”

“Of course.”

“Then understand what your technique truly is, you still haven’t figured it out.”

“How can you tell?”

“Your cursed energy always stops short, it never fully connects. It’s like you just barely get a taste of what you can truly do and yet,” he gestures into the air, “it’s gone. . . just like that.”

Let your cursed energy connect.

“So what do you feel right now?”

Sense your surroundings. You close your eyes as the cursed doll sprints at full speed and you feel weightless. You open your eyes and have a soft focus on the doll as it starts to throw a punch to your face. You dodge to the right and use your left arm to block the punch.

Nanami sits up a bit straighter, and Haibara leans down with his elbows on his knees. Both boys feeling your cursed energy increasing must faster than before. Yaga nods his head approvingly as you continue to fight the cursed doll.

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Tuna-Tober Day 10 - Matt Murdock

pairing: college!Matt Murdock x gn!reader

prompt: a hug that lasts a little too long

word count: 430 ish

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

tuna-tober masterlist / main masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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anxiety || matt murdock x reader

tuna-tober day 9

summary: inside out 2

word count: 815

warnings: BYE im finishing this half asleep at one am with 50 mg of zoloft in my system it’s not edited at all and also there is obviously anxiety mentions i might delete this in the morning okay bye 

a/n: largely based on my own experiences with anxiety so i hope i didn’t make it too specific!

this is an 18+ blog. minors dni. || masterlist

it started with your sleep schedule. 

you’d never been an early riser, staying up until the sunlight since you had learned how to read when you were six, always one to prefer the quiet and the dark to invasive sunlight and early-morning birdsong. the night had become a friend, a peaceful state in which you got to just be. you’d survived high school on four hours of sleep a night- that was how much you loved your quiet hours. 

but you weren’t in high school anymore. one four-hour night now rendered you a dysfunctioning zombie, and that was the most sleep you’d gotten in a single night this week. you’d spent your time at the office blinking a lot and picking up a fresh coffee cup every two hours. foggy had needed to take your fourth brew out of your hands, insisting he could practically hear your heartbeat, and it was about to jump out of your chest at this acceleration rate. 

you had walked home with matt, as per usual, hand in his as you “guided” him through the streets. he was good at keeping up the blind act, and you used that to zero in. you watched him tap his cane back and forth, nodded along to his stories, and threw in the occasional “yeah.” it was almost embarrassing, the way he was leading you instead, but your mind was not on the new york sidewalk with him. 

“is everything alright?” he’d asked at dinner, concern written in his sightless eyes. you’d just nodded and taken your next bite, taking your time chewing. 

“just a little anxious, is all.” 

he’d already known that. it was almost too obvious, actually, between the lack of sleep and the zoning out and the rising heart rate, but he hadn’t wanted to press. instead, he’d left for patrol with the best reassurances he could give you: that he’d be safe and back before you knew it, that he loved you and that he couldn’t wait to be back in your bed, but when he snuck out the window, the last shreds of your sanity clung to the tails of his black mask. when the devil left, the remaining demons were always harder to deal with. 

“do they hate me?” you thought. “karen and foggy. do they actually like me or do they just tolerate my presence for matt?” no, you reminded yourself, they’re my friends, they at least like me…

and the flood gates were opened. 

did they actually like you, or was it just courtesy? did you come up in conversations over beer at josies, and if you did, was it in a positive light? did they think you were incompetent? you certainly thought so- the way you still couldn’t figure out legal strategy, the way your messed up sleep patterns sometimes had you file things incorrectly. maybe you had answered a call incorrectly. wait, the phone lines had gone down a couple of days ago- maybe it was a miscommunication. they wouldn’t hold that against you, right? actually, on that note, had those been plugged in again properly? what if there was a fault in the wire? was the office on fire? no. that was ridiculous. you could check in the morning…you could call matt. he could stop by and check. of course you could, he’d be more than happy to, because he loved you.

…right?

that was the thought you couldn’t move past. the one that kept you awake, staring at your ceiling, analyzing every detail of every interaction you and matt had recently shared. he didn’t seem off, at least not in any typical matt sense, but maybe he was hiding it. how could he ever love someone who talked so much, who thought too much, who-

“sweetheart.” 

his low, gravelly voice instantly pulled you out of your stupor. 

“matty?” you asked softly. “you’re back early.” 

“couldn’t leave,” he admitted. “i’ve been outside the window. didn’t like how fast you were breathing.”

that was all he had to say. that was matt speak for “i know you need me”. you watched as he slowly changed, stripping down as casual as ever before pulling on a clean pair of boxers and jumping in bed with you. 

without a word, you snuggled up to his chest. he held you close against him, his hand cupping your skull in a protective gesture. 

“we gotta figure this out,” he said softly. “get you some meds, or a therapist, or something.” 

you nodded. you didn’t have the energy for anything else. 

with a smile and a soft kiss to your temple, he whispered to you. 

“close your eyes. let’s rest that pretty head, yeah? we’ll talk about this in the morning.” 

but his sentence was only heard by the surrounding air, filled with the sounds of your even breath. 

the best medicine for your racing heart was his.

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"Waking Nightmare" (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic)🌧️

Time for the next prompt for my Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! This is for day 7. Took an extra day to work on it cause this is a very angsty one, since our prompt was 'Nightmare' and I went with the classic, 'he accidently swings at you while asleep' trope (many thanks to @sunflowersandsapphires and @shouldbestudying41 for helping me with our chats on this one!). 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!

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Wordcount: 5.2k

Warnings for this chapter: BIG angst warning on this one, along with a warning for being hit (not intentional), nightmares, guilt, blood, Matt's convinced he committed DV so that is discussed.

It began, like so many disasters did, with a series of small fractures. 

What started as a horrible week turned out to be the harbinger of a truly terrible month for Matt. Despite near-constant, frantic late nights of casework at Nelson and Murdock, the firm lost two important cases in short order. Both cases had been a long shot when it came to success, but that had done little to soften the blow to Foggy, Karen, and Matt—especially Matt, who’d made promises to client families that he’d been unable to keep.

Matt’s work as Daredevil hadn’t gone much better. A new gang had moved into the Kitchen and set up shop, staking out a territory drenched in blood, ash, and terror. Matt had thrown himself into that fight with the same determination that he always did, and while he’d made serious progress breaking down their operation, there had still been losses. As far as he was concerned, the lives lost in the past month—the three targeted victims in the burning apartment complex he’d been unable to reach in time, and the two store clerks shot and killed in their shops before he could make it to them—were caused by his own personal failings. Despite your best attempts to convince him otherwise, the perceived blood on his hands had only driven him to devote himself even more ferociously to his work at night and during the day.

That devotion snowballed rapidly into a lack of sleep, often the first casualty in Matt’s life when things got stressful or busy. The exhaustion only sent him spiraling further into bouts of anger and a retreat behind his emotional walls. He snapped at you whenever you tried to talk to him about it, shying away from the kind touches he felt he didn’t deserve. While a quiet apology almost always came later in the night, soft and full of regret, it didn’t change the fact that you could see him beginning to splinter and crumble beneath the pressure he’d placed on himself, your Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders. You’d gone through this with him before, the periods in which it all seemed to go wrong and he refused to strap on the lifevests you stubbornly threw to him over and over again. As best you could tell, when these storms came there was no other option but to simply plant your roots deep and ride it out with him, ensure he knew he wasn’t alone. And when he finally fell to pieces, giving beneath the weight, you’d make sure he had a loving hand to help him glue his bloody, broken pieces back together. 

You’d thought that fracturing would come from something on the streets. Another death, maybe, or sheer exhaustion. 

You’d never expected it to happen here.

Not at home. 

“You’re going out?” You watched him dig through his father’s trunk for his suit, his back to you. He’d only just returned from another late night at the office. The only reason you were seeing him at all was because you’d woken up thirsty, heading out to the kitchen to get a glass of water. The distance between you both abruptly felt so much farther than a meager ten feet, so much harder to cross. Still, you tried. “It’s almost two. Some rest might—” “Don’t,” he said tightly, yanking his mask out and tossing it back onto the couch. He pulled out the rest of his suit next along with his billy clubs. His movements were unnaturally stiff, almost robotic. “I need to…” He sucked in an uneven breath, reaching up to run an exhausted hand through his dark hair.  After a moment, he dropped his hand, going back to what he’d been doing. If anything, your implication had only made him more determined, his voice now resolute and closed off. “Our appeals aren’t going well. The city’s quiet for the first time in a month, but that might not last. I need to go out. Just for an hour or two. Go back to bed.”

You gnawed on your lower lip in thought as he stalked over to the couch. Without his shirt, it was so much easier to see the lines of stress and tension cutting their way through him like winding roads, his muscles drawn up tight and hard. The bruising along the canvas of his back and ribs stood out with every neon flash of the billboard beyond the windows, adding a layer of blood red to the spiraling waves of deep blue and sullen indigo painted on his skin. That he’d been hurt even with the protection of the suit told you just how bad it had gotten out there. He needed rest, desperately. You both knew it. But you couldn’t bear the thought of trying to keep him here, forcing him to listen to the sounds of the city without being able to do anything about it. It was a promise you’d made to yourself, once, and you intended to keep it.

“Ok, D.” You kept your tone gentle. He’d hear you even across the room. “Ok. Come back safe.”

Some of his tension eased at your agreement, and he slowed where he’d been opening up his suit, preparing to step into it. Had he really thought you’d fight him? 

“I…” He shook his head after a moment. He turned until you could see him in profile, that same red light now highlighting the dark, bruised shadows beneath his eyes. But for just a moment, there was the barest softening in his expression, a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. You knew this look, this hand stretched out through the bars of the darkened prison cell he’d found himself trapped within. “I love you,” he said softly. “So much. I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m sorry.” 

“I know. Don’t worry about me for now. We’ll work it out. Just be careful tonight.” You tilted your head as he took a few tentative steps towards you. You took your own small step, cautious like you were approaching a stray who might run if you moved too quickly. He lifted his hand once you were within reach, the back of his fingers stroking lightly, tenderly against your cheek. You turned and brushed your lips fondly against his fingers, your eyes fluttering shut as you soaked in the warmth of his skin. It was the most intentional touch you’d gotten from him in a week, outside those moments in his sleep when he held you close, and god, were you grateful for it, something in you easing at the return of his affection. It meant he was coming out of this, swimming back up to the light and out of the void he’d been lost in. Sometimes you wondered if him denying himself your touch wasn’t just another way he punished himself when his darker thoughts seized hold of him. “I love you, too.”

“Go back to bed, sweetheart.” He tipped your chin up so he could place a tired kiss on your forehead before he let you go and returned to his suit. His motions, at least, seemed more settled now. “I’ll be back in an hour if it’s quiet, I promise. I’ll find a way to make it up to you this weekend.”

You left him there in the living area, more content than you’d felt in weeks. Sure, the past month had been shit for you both, but you were coming out of it now just like always. You fell asleep comfortably with that knowledge, cradling it inside you against your heart as you drifted off. 

You weren’t sure what it was that woke you later. Not at first, anyway. The bedroom was dark and quiet, save for the usual sounds of the city at night that leaked in through the closed windows. Matt’s arms weren’t around you, but it was possible he hadn’t gotten back yet. Without any other signs of danger, you gave a soft huff of irritation. Figures. Waking up over nothing. You shifted your head around on the pillow until you found a nice cold spot, closed your eyes, and began to drift back off. 

Then you heard it again behind you.  

Your brow furrowed, eyes blinking back open.

Right, now you knew it wasn’t just a dream. 

The sound you’d heard wasn’t quite a moan. It wasn’t a word, either. Hell, you didn’t know what to call it, exactly, but it definitely wasn’t a happy noise, that much you knew. This sounded… almost pained, hitched and edged with something like panic. You blearily rolled over to get a better look, still half-asleep.

Apparently Matt had gotten back while you were asleep, the shadowy outline of him curled up on the opposite side of the bed. He was also facing away from you, which was… odd. Most nights, he slept with you in his arms—or him in yours on particularly bad nights. That he’d either consciously or unconsciously placed this much distance between you would have stirred the smoldering embers of worry if you’d been more awake. It wasn’t right that he was over ther, curled in on himself, small and isolated, a lonely island in the sea of silk sheets. As you watched, he twitched restlessly, before making that same small, pained noise you’d heard before. Or was it scared? 

Nightmare, you thought sleepily. That explained the distance. He’d probably just rolled away in his sleep. You yawned, untangling yourself enough from your cocoon of blankets that you start crawling over towards him. Clearly this was one of those nights when he was the one that needed to be held. You weren’t entirely sure why your presence helped to soothe his nightmares, but for whatever reason, your arms around him and your breathing against his back, your heartbeat pressed against his back, was often all he needed. Even if he woke up when you got over to him, he’d have an easier time falling back asleep with you holding him. He always did. Especially after such a terrible month. 

You yawned again when you finally settled down behind him, throwing one arm over his waist and spooning affectionately up against his back. He stirred slightly at that, his body going tense and hard, his chest resonating with a soft growl. But he quickly quieted, soothed at the sound of your voice.

“It’s ok, Matt,” you said sleepily, breathing slowly, intentionally against the hard line of his back. “You’re ok, sweetheart. Just a bad dream.” You tucked your legs up behind his, nuzzling over onto his pillow, hunting for him even as your eyes fell shut again. You’d kick yourself later, for what you did next. 

Without thinking, you leaned in… and brushed a firm kiss against the back of his neck. 

Just like that, the peace, the calm was shattered. 

A wild snarl filled the air, followed by a sudden, blinding explosion of pain across your face that lit up the black behind your eyes like a skyline of fireworks. Before you could even cry out, you’d been thrown clear of the bed. You only just avoiding cracking your temple on the corner of Matt’s nightstand. But what your head missed, the rest of your body didn’t. As you slid across the nightstand and came crashing to the ground, you brought down every last object on the nightstand with you, glass and metal shattering somewhere far away from where you were, the whole of the world gone thick and quiet. 

Things got fuzzy then, a sickening carnival maze of light spinning in your vision every time you blinked. Your dazed thoughts were thick, slow to come together. But, still, you tried, because something was very, very wrong. 

Matt. 

Yes. You needed to find Matt. He was probably out on the streets still. It was the only way someone could have broken in just to hit you like an asshole. You weren’t sure where you were crawling too exactly, but away from the threat felt like a good start. As you moved, something hot and wet began to pour down your face in steady streams, irritating and coppery whenever it made it into your mouth. Fortunately, that was a distant problem. You could worry about whatever was on your face later. Your only concern at the moment was holding your attacker off until Matt could get here and kick some fucking ass. 

A pair of feet slammed against the floor, someone calling out, panicked and frantic. The sound was far too garbled for you to understand it immediately, but what it did tell you was that your attacker was still close by. There wasn’t anything around you that you could easily use to defend yourself, or at least, there wasn’t until your hand bumped into something long and metallic. You snatched it up, ignoring the sudden appearance of pain in your palm as you did so. You dragged it with you, metal squealing across the floorboards as you scrambled on your hands and knees. In seconds, you’d made it out of the bedroom and into the living area. 

Good. When Matt came through the rooftop door, he’d have less distance to cross to get to you. You’d also be able to see your attacker better in the flash of the billboard lights, though the flashing sea of red light made your eyes water and burn. But you could also feel your vision clearing, which was great. You’d need it. 

A shaking, trembling hand brushed against your shoulder. 

You rose up swiftly on your knees, metal rod clutched tight in both hands. “Get away from me!” you snarled, putting every last ounce of strength you had into your motion as you twisted and swung. 

And Matt—

What?

—snapped his hand up, catching the lamp rod just before it could hit him in the face. 

“...Matt?” you asked shakily, unable to hide your confusion. “It was you?”

“This can’t be happening, no, no no no,” he choked out tearfully, his breath coming panicked and wild. His tone was so ragged you almost didn’t recognize the voice as his. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re bleeding, I-I’m sorry, I’m so—”

The lamp rod fell from your paired grips. Hands shaking, he brought them up tentatively towards your face. He stopped just before he could touch you, hovering them a breath away from your skin. The first of his tears began to trail down his cheeks, his expression twisting in what you alarmingly recognized as grief. You’d seen him cry before, but never like this. “God, I-I didn’t know it was you, I’m sorry, I thought you were…”

He was… apologizing. But that didn’t make sense, no matter how much you tried to force the idea to settle into your dazed mind. It couldn’t have been Matt. You weren’t afraid of Matt. Matt didn’t hurt you. He didn’t hit you. Those were facts, as irrefutable as gravity, as reliable as the rise and the fall of the sun. You didn’t understand, just like you didn’t understand why he wasn’t holding you. He always did when you were hurt. “You… you hit me?”

The low, agonized noise he made was inhuman. It was the sound of a wounded animal, of someone who’d just been carved open. His hands drew back from your face, dropping down towards your hands where they’d settled on your thighs, though he seemed just as hesitant to touch you there. Tears dripped down from his face, joining the droplets of thick, deep red now scattered across the floor. Had you left all fo that there? You really… were bleeding, weren’t you?

“I-I… I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t,” he whispered brokenly, his breath hitching with what was almost a whimper. He grabbed one of the blankets off the chair next to him, the one you loved to curl up under with him. He slid it as gently as he could around one of your hands—oh, you were bleeding there, too, just a little, goddamn cheap lamp—though he avoided allowing his skin to brush against yours. “I was… having a nightmare, and I thought-I thought you were someone else, they had you and I was trying to-to get to you but someone grabbed me and I—God, you have a concussion, your nose is-is bleeding. I have to call Claire, get away from you b-before I… I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry—”

Finally, the idea settled into your mind, the world abruptly righting itself. 

The nightmare.

Well, that made sense.

You still weren’t quite thinking right, thoughts thick and fuzzy like wisps of cotton, a massive, throbbing ache in your head and face that only got worse every time the billboard lit up. But you you’d been right. Matt didn’t hit you. He hadn’t hit you, because he hadn’t known it was you. Hell, he’d even apparently been trying to save you, at least in his nightmare. It seemed simple enough to you, an obvious accident. But it didn’t seem quite so simple to Matt. You reached for his cheek. “Matt,” you soothed, your words only a tiny bit slurred as he sniffled and wrapped the blanket tighter around your hand, applying firm pressure to stop the bleeding. “It’s ok, Matt. You didn’t mean it.”

But the second your fingertips brushed against his skin, he threw himself backwards and out of your reach, his dark eyes wild. “Don’t!” he spat.  You faltered just a little, suddenly unsure. But you quickly shook it off, shakily climbing to your feet to follow after him. Your own injuries felt secondary in that moment, because this… this was the wound, the disaster that might do you both in if you didn’t find some way to stop it. Your bloody nose and hand could wait. “You didn’t mean it, Matt. It was an accident.” 

For every step you took forward, he took one back, the two of you performing some twisted, heartbreaking sort of dance across the floor. Eventually you cornered him against the wall, hemming him in. He was almost shaking as you stepped in close. Your hand rose and this time around, you successfully managed to cup his jaw, trying to press your affection, your calm into his skin. “Easy, Devil-Man. I’m ok,” you murmured. You swiped one thumb over the trail of tears sliding down his cheek, a new one appearing each time you’d cleared away the last, an endless stream of them falling from his grief-stricken eyes as they darted sightlessly around you. “This wasn’t your fault. Help me get cleaned up and then we’ll talk about it, ok?” 

He hitched a soft, quiet breath when you tugged his head down, his forehead pressed to yours like he’d done for you so many times before. You breathed with him for a moment, trying to ease him down.  He swallowed hard, his eyes fluttering closed as you stroked your thumb against his cheek, and for a moment, you almost thought you’d managed to fix it. 

A breath. 

His jaw clenched, and your heart sank.

This time when his eyes opened, all traces of warmth in them were gone. Whatever door you’d once pried open was now shut, slammed resoundingly in your face. “No. It’s not ok.” He brushed your hand away, sliding out from between you and the wall without so much as a pause. He reached up to wipe away his tears, the motion sharp and edged with tension. “Where are you going?” “I need to call Claire to come look you over,” he said flatly, heading for the kitchen. “I’ll use my burner. Mine was on the… the nightstand.” The brief crack in his voice, a brittle chip in the armor he’d just tried to throw up around himself, only confirmed what you’d hoped you could avoid.

“Matt,” you said softly. “Don’t lock me out like this.”

He may have been aiming for calm but he couldn’t hide what he was feeling, not entirely anyway. Not when his hands were still trembling as he felt around on the kitchen counter, acting like he hadn’t heard you. “I’ll call Foggy, too. Once they’re here, I’ll go.” 

“What?” You watched in disbelief as he kept hunting along the counter. With every second that passed and he failed to find it, he grew more frustrated, more angry. He quickly turned his back to you, body stiff like he was expecting a sudden blow. “You’re you’re leaving me?” “I hit you,” he spat viciously, another seething wave of emotion bubbling up through the cracks of his voice like acid, bitter and toxic and just as liable to burn. Here it was, here it was: the self-loathing, the disgust, the burning hatred. He drew in a sharp breath, shivering as he did. And on the exhale, he seemed to have regained control. His voice rapidly returned to that same cold, emotionless monotone, though he kept his face out of your view. Whatever expression he had would give him away, you were certain of it. “I almost broke your nose. You have a concussion. You cut yourself trying to get away from me. I’ve put men in the hospital for a lot less. You’re not safe with me—”

“That’s horseshit,” you huffed, starting towards him on wobbly legs. You had to stop and grab one of the chairs just to keep your balance and halt you from pitching over onto the floor. Not that it was a concern; no matter how upset Matt was, he’d catch you. But still, you falling would only make things worse. You forced yourself to breathe through the roiling in your stomach, unsure if it was the concussion that was making you nauseous or simply the knowledge that he was trying to leave you. But you wouldn’t let those fucking voices in his mind—ones that probably sounded like Stick—drive him away from you. Not without a fight. At least your nose seemed to have stopped bleeding. That was a good sign. “It was an accident. We both know it. This just—it happens something with nightmares, including non-vigilantes, Matt. I’ve woken up scared and smacked you in the face more than once, and you know it.” 

“You didn’t throw me across a nightstand or give me a concussion.” He barked out a bitter laugh. The hateful sound filled you with dread, as did the heartbreaking resolve beneath it. He’d already made up his mind, convinced himself of what he’d done. “I always knew. That’s what they all said. That I was cursed. That I had the Devil inside me. That all I wanted was to hit someone. This is who I am. I wanted to believe it wasn’t true, but deep down, I knew. And now I hurt you. I can’t let that happen again, even if it means I have to leave to keep you safe.” 

“Matt,” you said desperately, managing to make it to the couch, bracing yourself against the arm of it. If you could just get to him, you could fix this. You knew that. “That’s not true. Let’s just talk about this.”

Matt ignored you again, snatching up his keys and starting towards the hall. “I can’t find my burner,” he said. That tone, flat and empty of all feeling, was so much worse than anger. You’d take anger any day—you’d take grief, or hurt. Emotion meant you had a way in, that he’d opened himself to you, baring all the parts of him left vulnerable and raw. This tone, though…You couldn’t help but feel like you were banging your bloodied fists against a door abruptly chained shut. “Keep pressure on your hand. I’m going next door to ask for their phone so I can call Claire. I’ll only be gone for a minute, then I’ll be back. I’ll find somewhere else to stay once she’s here to take care of you.”

No. 

No, he couldn’t leave you over an accident. Your heart rate shot up, rattling against the lump in your throat. You almost felt like you couldn’t breathe, panic crushing your lungs in their grip, something that made him him stiffen. And you-you couldn’t let him leave, not like this, not when he might not come back. There had to be something, some way to reach him and keep him from destroying, burning down the best thing in both of your lives. And there was only one method that might work in a moment like this.  

Holding up a mirror.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. 

And Matt… froze in the hall, a mere three steps from the front door. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, more firmly now. You didn’t bother to hide the waver in your voice. You drew in a slow breath, exhaling just as slowly. It wasn’t blood running down your face, now, and he’d know it. “I’m sorry for scaring you. For touching your neck in your sleep. I know how vulnerable it is, and how you feel about it being touched by anyone other than me. I didn’t think about what touching that might feel like during a nightmare.” 

“Stop apologizing,” he growled, his shoulders drawing up tight. “They’re not the same thing, and you know it.”

But despite his objections, he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t left yet. Hell, maybe he’d found he couldn’t. Not when you were injured. You’d take it if it meant you had a chance.

“Aren’t they the same?” You reached up with your good hand, sniffling a little as you wiped some of the blood off your face. “According to you, they are. It doesn’t matter what I meant to do, right? Just that I did something that led to me hurting you. And this is hurting you. I can tell.” You choked out a wobbly laugh when he flinched. You used that break in his armor to edge closer, praying you didn’t stumble and fall, losing the ground you’d just gained. “Do you remember when I slipped and dropped that bowl last month and it shattered and cut your feet?” 

“That’s not—”

“I had to pick shards of porcelain out of your poor bare feet. I felt horrible.” Another step. Then another. “Remember when I smacked you in the face during my nightmare last January? Split your lip and everything.” You caught one hand against the shelving unit by the hall, taking a split second to breathe, more tired than you wanted to admit. “You told me those weren’t my fault. You even fucking laughed about your lip. But if this accident is your fault, then all those times are my fault, and so is this one, if you think about it. So I’m sorry, Matt.”  

“I hit you,” came his voice, trembling and uneven. You had a feeling those three small words were your target, spiraling on loop in his mind, their sharp edges tearing into him over and over again. His head slowly dropped, his body curling in on itself as you stopped a few feet away. He shuddered then, and without being able to see his face, you couldn’t tell if it was shame or just… hurt. “Don’t apologize when I hit you. I threw you across the room. I-I hurt you.” 

“Oh, Matt,” you whispered. You took another step, at last coming within touching distance where you might be able to reach him. “It was an accident, sweetheart. You didn’t mean it. You didn’t know it was me. But… but if you want to talk about hurting me, let’s talk about this here.” He stilled when he felt the first gentle touch of your hand against his back. Warm, unafraid, tender. 

“If you’re worried about hurting me, this is how you’d do it,” you said softly, trailing your fingers down the line of his spine with all the love you had in you. “By leaving, Matt. By leaving me here without you when I love you more than anything or anyone else in the world. Don’t do that to me. Please.” This time the sound he made was a broken sob, one hand rising up to fist in his hair. He sank slowly to the ground. You sank with him, winding your arms tight around him as he finally broke, shattering beneath the weight of his guilt. When he didn’t reject your touch, you quickly shifted around him, climbing into his lap. His arms found their way home around your waist, clinging to you tight as you rocked him in your arms, his face buried against your neck, tears flowing hot to join the blood still clinging to your skin. “I’m sorry.” His voice was thick with sorrow, each breath one he had to fight for.  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you, I’m sorry—” “Listen to me. This was not your fault. I promise, baby,” you whispered, lifting his head to press your forehead to his like you had before. His eyes were shut, but they fluttered open just for you, as he finally, finally let you back in. You could almost see the torment swirling in them, the guilt, but that was alright. If you could see those shadows, you could fight them. “You were asleep, Matt. You were dreaming. You can’t control what your brain does then. If it thinks there’s a threat, it’s going to react without your input. Do you know how I can be so sure you won’t hurt me? How this all just proved I’m safe with you?” His blank gaze shifted around you, one shaking hand coming up to trace your smile in open disbelief. 

“Because the second you woke up, you were horrified.” You leaned into him, running the fingers of your good hand through his hair as he let out another shaky, breathless sob. “The second you woke up and realized it was me, it just broke you. You would never choose to hurt me, Matt. You're not a violent person, even if you've been taught to use it out there. A bad man doesn’t react like you did. A good man does. You are a good man, do you hear me? And if you leave?” You found his hand with your good one to lace your fingers together and squeeze, his eyes fluttering closed, as did yours. “I swear to God I’ll go stand in an alley in my pajamas and scream that until you have to come protect me from every mugger in the Kitchen. Which will only prove my point that you’d never let anything or anyone hurt me.”  He choked out a quiet, watery laugh, letting you bring his head back down to your throat. His tearful groan at the affection just made you cling to you tighter. “I love you,” he hitched out. “I love you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I’m so sorry. God forgive me, I’m so, so sorry.” 

“I love you, too, Matt,” you whispered, burying your face in his hair. “It’s not your fault. Don’t let your nightmare knock us out this easily. Get back up. Stay, and fight for me, for us. Can you do that for me?”

You felt his eyes fall closed, and for the first time since he’d woken up, you heard a different kind of resolve in his voice: one that was far more familiar, far more welcome, solid and warm and steadfast, a strength you’d happily build your life upon, as he let your love seep in through the cracks to at last chase away some of the dark.

His breath eased out against your skin, soft and familiar. “I… ok. I can do that.”

“Good.”

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

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

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

I'm Not Good Enough🌧️

this movie was fucking ADORABLE i love it so much

Ship: Charlie Denton x gn!Reader

Rating: 13+

Wordcount: 994

Warnings: angst, alcohol, self-doubt, anxiety

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today was not one of those days.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

screaming crying throwing up etc.

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

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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Overstimulation🐟✨

✨🐟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 8 - Matt Murdock

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

prompt: Overstimulation

word count: 2,600

content: established relationship, light drinking, public sex toy use, public orgasms, language, overstimulation, unprotected piv sex (at home), aftercare. 18+ MINORS DNI!

tuna-tober masterlist / main masterlist

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Matt asked, flipping the slender remote in his hand as you pulled on the underwear that would be controlled by the device. He had gotten you the garment for your anniversary a few days prior, and you weren’t sure of the setting he wanted to use them in. Until tonight.

“It’ll be fun,” you told him, a nervous smile on your lips that he could tell wasn’t completely genuine.

“But are you okay with it?” Matt rephrased his question, wanting a straight answer before you both exited the apartment. “It was my idea, so I need to know if you’re on board. I don’t want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable.”

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to blow away your nerves as you nodded. “I’m okay with it.”

By the steady beat of your heart, Matt knew you were telling the truth. So he smiled and pocketed the remote, but not before giving you an experimental buzz with the toy. When you let out the quietest of moans that he knew only he could hear, a cocky smirk lined his lips as he left you to finish getting ready.

The conversation with Matt as the two of you were getting ready to go out to Josie's was fresh on your mind as you sat in the booth in tense anticipation for what was to come. You were in the corner of the booth, Matt sitting with his thigh pressed against yours, and Karen right across from you. Foggy had just shown up with Marci on his arm and the four of them were engaged in their typical work conversations for the first little bit of the gathering while you were stuck in your head picturing what Matt would be doing to you…who knew when?

As the three others became engrossed in their own conversation, Matt leaned over and mumbled into your ear, “You’re getting yourself worked up and I haven’t even turned them on, Angel.” Angel. Matt only called you that when he got rough in the bedroom. Just hearing him say that caused a shiver to run down your spine and you felt more heat pooling between your thighs. You started to cross your legs to relieve some of the tension, but let out a quiet gasp when you suddenly felt a soft vibration fluttering against your clit. The hand not controlling the little remote landed on your thigh and massaged it gently as Matt whispered in a husky tone, “Just relax. I’ve got you.”

When he said that, the vibrations got a little stronger, and you felt your heart rate increase in response. The grip you had on your drink glass tightened as your hands began to shake as a sudden feeling of anxiety flooded the forefront of your mind. And just like that the vibrations stopped. “Matt, what-?” you started quietly.

“Your cortisol levels just shot through the roof. Something’s wrong. I’m not continuing if you aren’t comfortable with this, I told you that,” he replied, a more gentle tone taking over for the moment.

Throwing a look over to Karen, Foggy, and Marci, you whispered, “I’m just afraid of them catching us, is all… What if they hear it? What if they hear me?”

“None of them reacted when I turned it on,” Matt assured you. That goddamn smirk made its way back onto his lips as he added, “I can turn it on the highest setting and we can see if they notice. Would that make you feel better?”

Your breath hitched in your throat for a second in response to the proposition. You were at an impasse. While turning it to the highest setting would prove whether or not the others could hear the vibrations, you ran the risk of them hearing it and asking questions. It felt like something you would never be able to live down. It felt like something illegal. Public indecency at the least. But Matt wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t sure it was okay…

With that last thought in mind, you nodded. And nothing could have prepared you for the feeling that took over your body in the seconds that followed. As you nearly doubled over when the intense vibrations assaulted your clit, you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from moaning. Loudly. You had used toys before, sure, but it had been a while because Matt always took care of you without them. You had long since forgotten how easily vibrators worked you up and how they could make that coil tighten in your abdomen nearly as fast as Matt could.

When he heard how your body reacted to the vibrator, Matt nearly forgot that he was supposed to be gauging if the others could hear it over the music and conversation that made up the atmosphere of Josie’s. Tearing his attention away from your body, Matt tuned into his friends and the air around them to see if there was even a nearly imperceptible movement of their heads that would indicate that they heard what was happening on the other side of the table. He waited a few seconds before he was satisfied that the three of them were still completely oblivious.

Raising his beer bottle in response to something they just said, Matt kept up the charade that he wasn’t becoming more turned on by the second as he listened to you. The sound of your growing arousal was loud in his ears, and every little shift of your hips only had his jeans tightening more. He could practically feel the restraint you were holding yourself with as you attempted to keep your breathing even, but the little sighs of pleasure escaping your lips were becoming more frequent as time wore on, and it was getting difficult to hold himself back from you.

Matt nearly moaned when he merely placed his hand on your thigh and you suddenly tensed up, grasping the edge of the booth as your breath caught in your throat. Before the moan climbing up your throat could escape and end this whole thing, Matt leaned into you and closed his mouth over yours in a passionate kiss as waves upon waves of pleasure crashed over you as you came. One hand snaked around to the back of his neck and held him close as he kissed you, not only so he could continue his ministrations, but so you could whimper his name like a prayer onto his lips where the others couldn’t see.

“Woah you two, save that for the bedroom!” Foggy said with a chuckle when Matt finally pulled away as you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Matt cleared his throat before asking, “Can a man not kiss his girlfriend anymore?”

“You weren’t kissing her, you were eating her face,” Foggy pointed out before walking back to the bar for another round of drinks.

“Have you two done anything for your anniversary yet?” Karen asked with a sparkle in her eye. “Five years, that’s a big deal!”

When Matt didn’t answer immediately nor turn down the setting on the vibrator, you swallowed hard before telling her, “N-not yet. Not exactly. Waiting for the weekend.”

“Ooh, reservations for somewhere, I hope, Matt?” Marci asked, a well-kept eyebrow raising up into her forehead.

“Yes, actually. Although I can’t remember the name of the restaurant right now,” Matt fibbed, his tone of voice almost teasing as he asked if you remembered the name of the place.

“B-babbo Ris-torante. In Gr-eenwich,” you supplied, reaching for Matt’s thigh as you tried to ground yourself and keep your voice steady as your core continued to throb under the ministrations of the toy.

“Are you okay?” Karen asked, her head tilting slightly as she studied your flushed face.

“Y-yeah, just something caught in my throat,” you lied, selling it further by taking a long drag of the beer pushed your way as Foggy returned with the drinks.

Luckily the conversation moved on quickly to talk of…something. You couldn’t pay attention to anything except the pleasure beginning to mount in your core again. “Stop that,” came Matt’s husky voice as he leaned over to pretend to whisper sweet nothings in your ear. It was only then that you realized that you had started to grind your hips into the booth so you could chase the high that was threatening to wash over you again any second.

Snapping your eyes out of their trance, you looked over to Matt and realized that he was shifting uncomfortably in the booth, his legs spread wider than he normally would before stilling into a stiff posture. Glancing down, you saw just how aroused he was, the outline of his hard cock in his jeans making you picture what you were in for once you got back home. “Ma-att,” you whispered as you ground your hips into the booth once more before the coil in your abdomen abruptly snapped. One hand found the edge of the booth once more as the other wrapped around Matt’s back as your second orgasm of the night ripped through you, somehow more intense than the first one. Burying your face into Matt’s shoulder, you tried to keep your moans quiet as your body continued grinding into the seat to drag out the feeling for as long as possible.

“Fuck it, we’re leaving,” Matt practically growled as he tasted the fresh round of your arousal in the air. It was almost enough to make him come undone then and there. He made up some excuse about having a headache before pulling you out of the booth and close to his front so he could at least try to hide his painfully hard erection from his friends. “Need to get you home. Need you,” he said as you feigned guiding him out of the bar without his cane unfolded.

Truth be told, you were barely able to walk after two mind shattering orgasms and the continuing vibrations against your clit. Matt called a quick goodbye to Josie before the two of you were out in the less stale air of New York City. You barely made it ten feet before Matt was pulling you into an alleyway and kissing you like his life depended on it. With a slight smirk on your lips, you hooked one leg around the back of his knee and pulled Matt’s hips into yours, grinding into him for a brief second. That second was all it took for him to come undone, letting out an unexpected moan as he rutted his hips into yours as he came. Pleasure sparked through his whole body as he buried his face into your neck and left open mouthed kisses there as he worked through the aftershocks of his own orgasm. “Fuck…” he whispered as his movements stilled a few seconds later. “Need to get you home, Angel. Now.”

“Wha-” you tried, thinking that what had just happened was the end of the sexcapades for the night. That he had gotten his fill after giving you two and having one himself before you even really touched him.

“We’re not done until I say we’re done. I need to taste you. I need to feel you. I need to fuck you,” he said, heated kisses punctuating every sentence.

“Lead the way then,” you told him, a giggle leaving your mouth that was replaced by a quiet moan as the settings on the underwear changed to where it would start off at a low rumble before building up into a delicious vibration. When it hit its peak as you rounded the corner, your knees almost gave out, and you grabbed at the front belt loop of your jeans - whether you meant for it to be as a lifeline or as a means of bringing the toy closer, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that you could barely walk and your third orgasm was already building.

Matt made quick work of getting you home, pulling you into the entry hall and slamming his lips into yours as soon as he shut the door. Your jeans were off within seconds and the panties were ripped away and replaced by Matt’s skilled fingers. As he pumped them quickly into you, finding that special spot within your walls, you moaned loudly, the sound shortly followed by a grunt of your name as Matt rutted his hips into your thigh.

Only once you had your third orgasm not even a minute later did Matt move the two of you toward the bedroom. When he had you out of your clothes and laid out on the silk sheets, Matt’s mouth was on your heat, lapping and sucking like a man starved. The vibration of his grunts and groans had you writhing which prompted Matt to hold your hips down as he pulled yet another orgasm out of you.

The transition between Matt eating you out and him fucking you fast and hard was quick to your muddied brain, and it was all you could do to just hold on to his broad shoulders as he thrusted into you.

The pleasure was insurmountable and all encompassing. There was a slightly painful edge to the feeling, and a little voice inside your head was whispering too much. You couldn’t get your brain to form coherent words though, only able to let out a wanton moan into the quiet of the apartment. You weren’t even sure what happened next as your entire body suddenly flooded with a warm flush and your vision went white. Your hearing turned into a sharp ringing sound that was so loud that you barely registered Matt’s call of your name as he came inside of you.

Matt knew there was something wrong the second your arms sagged off of his shoulders and your head lulled back into the pillow without your usual final kiss before he pulled out of you. With his chest heaving still, Matt fell onto his back and pulled you close, running his hand up and down your bare back as he whispered into your hair, “Come on, sweet girl. Come back to me.”

It took a few minutes, but you finally started to come back around, your eyes fluttering back open as you pulled in a deep breath to center yourself again. “There you are,” Matt mumbled, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead as he held you close. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t apologize. Those were the most intense orgasms I’ve ever had,” you interrupted him, a quiet giggle escaping your lips as you snuggled into his chest.

“Same here,” Matt replied, the quiet chuckle rumbling out of his chest soothing under your ear as you continued to gather yourself in his embrace.

“Let's go get you cleaned up,” Matt said after a few peaceful moments of silence.

“Help me up?” you mumbled, your eyes heavy as you curled further into his embrace.

“You got it,” he replied before untangling himself from your limbs and making his way into the bathroom to start up the shower.

“I love you Matthew Murdock, and happy anniversary,” you whispered as he pulled you up and into his arms to help you walk into the bathroom on unsteady legs.

He got you set up in the shower and began massaging soap onto your skin as he told you, “I love you too,” the smile evident in his voice. He would have to find another occasion to bring out those panties again…

this is highly unformatted and barely edited ngl i’m just tryna get this thrown up as a little birthday treat from me to y’all!

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

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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "Open your mouth." 🐟✨

✨🐟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 9 - “Open your mouth.”

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader Word Count: 973 Content: Fluff, Gojo being Gojo (I think that’s a fair warning), a little taste of Gojo and Reader taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki after they graduated from Jujutsu High! Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: I definitely didn’t miss a day, what are you talking about??? (No I did and it was because I tried contacts for the first time ever. It gave me such a horrible headache, but I’m doing better today which is nice. I know I still need to complete day 3, 4 and now 8; I’m on it, don’t worry!)

October 2008

“Gojo, we need to go home.”

“The kids want a snack, don’t you guys?” Gojo looks back at Tsumiki and Megumi. Megumi just rolls his eyes at Gojo while Tsumiki trips over her feet. You quickly grab her hand before she falls over. You shoot a glare at Gojo as he gives you an embarrassed smile.

“We should eat though. It’ll bring back our energy!” Gojo mentions as you all come to a stop right in front of a cafe.

“How convenient.” You mutter, “Fine but we should get home soon, it’s nearing the kids bedtime.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Gojo smiles, “Bedtimes and all that- let’s eat!”

He practically shoves you all into the cafe, but you can’t complain. You were starting to feel hungry and you knew that your patience would keep getting shorter the longer you went without getting something to eat.

Gojo puts all of your shopping bags to a little fourtop and sits down. You bring the kids with you in tow and give him a look as the kids join him at the table.

. . . “What?”

“You’re sitting down,”

“So?”

“You wanted to eat here. You order the food.”

“What?! But I bought all of the clothes today.”

“And we didn’t even make a dent in your fortune.”

“Hmmmm,” Gojo looks into the bags, “I think we might have.” He nods his head. Tsumiki holds back a laugh while Megumi deflates in his chair. Megumi gets out of his chair and goes to hold your hand.

“I’ll help.” He tells you.

“Thank you Megumi, at least someone will help me out.”

Gojo’s face drops, “Wha-?” He looks over at Tsumiki who starts giggling.

“Maybe I’ll help you too!” She mentions through her fit of giggles.

“But who will watch over me?!” Gojo asks exasperatedly, throwing a hand to cover his eyes in a dramatic way. You bring a hand up to your head and try to rub the oncoming headache.

“Tsumiki it’s alright, someone does need to look after Satoru after all,” He perks up, “Do you just want your usual?”

“Yes-”

“I was talking to Tsumiki, Gojo.”

“HA?!”

“Yes please!” Tsumiki responds. You nod your head at her and take Megumi up towards the counter. As you’re waiting in line you lift him up and have him sit on your hip, knowing how tired he’s been. He wouldn’t show it intentionally but you could tell it’s been a long day for him too. His eyes have been drooping and his head keeps snapping back straight up.

When you pick him up at first he goes stiff, unsure of what’s happening, but as you get him in a good position he relaxes, wrapping his arms around your neck and letting his legs go around your torso. Once you get up to the counter, you buy four hot chocolates, a few sandwiches, a slice of cinnamon coffee cake and a blueberry muffin (putting it all on Gojo’s card of course).

As you walk over by the waiting area you take a glance at Gojo and Tsumiki. She’s coloring something in one of the coloring books that Gojo bought for her a few weeks back and Gojo is sulking. You shake your head, he’s probably upset that you didn’t ask for his order.

Your name is called and you go to grab the order, “Ready Megumi?”

He nods his head as you put him back onto the ground. You both walk up to the counter, you pick up the tray with the four hot chocolates and hand it to him, “You got it?”

“Yeah,”

You smile at him as he carefully walks back to the table, careful to not spill any of the hot chocolate. You grab the food you ordered as well as some forks and knives and quickly follow behind Megumi. Once you both make it to the table, Gojo smiles seemingly done sulking. You place everything on the table and give both kids a hot chocolate and their sandwiches.

They thank you and start eating quickly. You hand Gojo the cinnamon coffee cake and you start to eat the blueberry muffin. Before Gojo takes a bite of the cake, you quietly moan, covering your mouth. You didn’t mean to moan but with how delicious the food is you couldn’t help yourself.

It was utterly decant and just what you needed for a snack.

You see Gojo open his mouth in shock, nearly dropping his fork but quickly grabbing it again. You give him a confused look and he gives you a smirk.

“Here~” He holds out the fork with a bite of the cinnamon coffee cake.

“What are you doing? You never share.”

“I want to this time. Come on,” He tilts his head to the side, his smirk getting wider (if possible), “Open your mouth.”

He brings the fork closer to your mouth and against your better judgment you do as Gojo says. You bite down on the fork and he takes it out of your mouth, waiting to see your expression.

You bring a hand up to cover your mouth, but your eyes go wide and then they close as you savor the flavor. It wasn’t like anything you’ve eaten before, just pure and utter bliss. You sigh contentedly and open your eyes to see Gojo looking at you with an unreadable expression.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Do I have crumbs on my face?”

“No-

Tsumiki and Megumi look at each other knowingly as you and Gojo continue to avoid talking about what’s really going on between the two of you.

Maybe one day Gojo will actually admit to himself that he had feelings for you, but for now he’ll keep teasing you until you lightly hit him. Because you’re never truly that mad at him, because maybe you have feelings for him too.

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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

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

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

LUCKY DAY

Hi everyone! I hope you having a good time in this spooky season, this is my second day with the tuna-tober prompts, like I said in one post I have a few ideas with this ones but still if any of you have an requests with this prompts you can send me an ask, I hope you have a great day/night, and I know is little but still I hope you like it, lots of love!

Prompt: why? Why do you love me?

——————————

When you first met Jimmy you were amaze about him, he had this attitude that make make you look at him, and that smile, that cocky smile that make you blush every time he smiled at you. You work on a little dinner when you met him, he was alone when he sat at one of your tables, you didn’t know why but you got nervous when he look at you.

-Hi, my name is Yn and I will your waitress today- you said.

-Well this must be my lucky day- he said,you smiled.

-Uh a cocky one…

-But an adorable one, don’t you think?- you blushed.

-Yes I’ll give you that- he smiled -so mysterious man, do yo know what you want?

-you- you smiled a little nervous.

-I’m sorry but I don’t do that until I have at least one date, but I can bring you some eggs and some pancakes- you said before you get back to the kitchen and try to relax, you didn’t know why but he make you nervous, you return a few minutes later with his food -here you have mysterious man…

-Jimmy my name is Jimmy Keene- he said with a smile.

-nice to meet you Jimmy- you said -by the if it is your lucky day and you win the lottery don’t forget to come by next time.

-I tell you what, why don’t I invite you on a date?- he asked you, you look at him for a little a second before you smile.

-I’m off at 8 o’clock, there’s this coffee shop we can go- Jimmy smiled.

-That’s a great plan.

You’re relationship with Jimmy was different, after a few months he told you his real work of line and you have to admitted that you were afraid, afraid of how it could affect you and you always afraid for his safety. The day after his arrest was hard, going to the audiences, the meeting with the layers, you tried to be close to his father every time you could, but you didn’t really know how but you start to get used to it. You were on your way to the visitors room, it wasn’t a lot of time before you saw Jimmy, he tried to give you a cocky smile but you could see the sadness in his eyes.

-Hey, babydoll- he said.

-hey, love- you took his hand -your dad send you love, he said he will come next week -he nod -hey, are you ok?

-I… don’t really know- he said -I had a lot time to think and I screw you up…

-What? No you…

-Look at you Yn, you shouldn’t be here, you should be out there having a better life than this.

-I do it because I love you…

-Why? why you keep loving me? I’ve done bad things, they right to have me here- you took his hand again.

-That’s why, even if you done some bad things, you regret it, and I also see the good things, you’re funny, and kind, and you also make me feel like I’m the only girl in the world, I love when you sings and how you care about your family and I know that you did all those stuffs to help your father, you have a good heart Jimmy and that’s why I love.

-shit I wanna kiss you so hurt right now- you smiled and look around but one guard was watching at the two of you.

-Back at you handsome.

-Maybe we should save it for the wedding.

-What wedding- you asked a little confuse.

-Would you marry me?- you didn’t responde right away -I mean I know this isn’t the best place to asked it and maybe you want to wait until I’m free…

-Yes- he stop talking.

-Really- you nodded.

-Yes, yes and a million time yes, Jimmy, of course I’ll marry you- you were about to kiss him but the guard stopped you, making the two giggle.

-Times up Keene- the guard say.

-I promise that kiss will be worth it- he said making you smile -bye, Mrs. Keene.

-I’ll see you next week, Mr. keen.

-This must be my lucky day- he winked at you.

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "You don't need to do that.” "I want to." 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

"You don't need to do that." "I want to."🪻

leo is just the perfect vessel for fluff. I DON'T MAKE THE RULES

Ship: Duke Leopold Mountbatten x f!Reader

Rating: 13+

Wordcount: 774

Warnings: periods, possible endometriosis, cursing, nausea

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

You ached all over.

Not just your abdomen, where your willful uterus throbbed with every breath and sent shocks of agony down your spine, but everywhere else. Your breasts were sensitive to the touch, your back was stiffer than a board, and the muscles in your hips gave out a few hours ago.

All you could do was bury yourself in the couch cushions and groan occasionally. Waves of nausea emanated from your stomach, coursing through your body in violent bursts. You couldn't get up and get water because your head hadn't stopped spinning since you woke up.

Periods. Fucking. Suck.

The ice pack you'd grabbed before your symptoms truly set in had long since melted. A puddle of water cradled the ice pack tauntingly where it sat on the rug. You stared at the blue plastic through half-lidded eyes. If looks could kill, the room-temperature ice pack would be nothing but ash.

Jingling keys in the apartment's door drew your ire from the hunk of plastic. You watched the brass knob turn, the hinges catching a bit, as Leo forced his way through the troublesome door. A large plastic bag crinkled where it was gripped in his large hand. Bulging boxes stretched at the thin material.

"Darling?" he called as the door swung shut behind him. One of your loose sweatshirts hung from his broad shoulders. What seemed monstrous on you just barely fit Leopold. The green of the cotton made his bright, hazel eyes gleam in the apartment's ceiling lights.

"In here," you grumbled tiredly. Another throb centered in your abdomen made you wince. You ground your teeth, eyes screwing shut, as you tried to work through the pain.

"Oh, my love. How bad is it?" Leo asked, voice growing closer as he approached what felt like your death bed. Well, death couch. You peered at him through squinted eyes.

"Bad," you answered with a groan. The plastic bag crinkled as Leo set it next to the couch. You just barely caught a glimpse of the pads and tampons he'd bought while he was out.

"How ba- Lord!" he exclaimed. It seemed he'd found the puddle. Your giggle at his misfortune quickly shifted to a strained sigh as the muscles in your back creaked. Leo adjusted where he knelt by your head, "Damned ice. How's your nausea? Any better than before I left?"

You gingerly shook your head, "Nope."

"When was the last time you drank some water?" he asked. A warm palm rested on your oversensitive shoulder. It was soft, strong, the fingers massaging circles into your sore muscles. An involuntary sigh escaped your chapped lips.

"Can't remember. Been a while," you replied, eyes falling closed as Leo smoothed his hand up and down your arm. He always had a way of calming the turmoil inside you. Like a lighthouse guiding a battered ship to shore.

"How about I get you some water, hm? You can rifle through what I've bought while I do that," he suggested with a kind smile. You couldn't help but mirror the expression.

"You didn't need to do all that, hon. I could've ordered it," you said.

Feigned offense washed over Leo's face. His eyebrows furrowed, nose scrunched near the bridge, as a forced frown tugged at his mouth, "I'm shocked that you'd even consider using your telly-phone over your perfectly good me!"

The laugh that shook your chest felt revitalizing in a way. Like the first rays of sunshine after a violent storm. It was easy to forget your pains for a moment.

Leo's charade didn't last. His furious expression broke as he laughed with you, saying "Besides, I wanted to. I like caring for you."

Warmth blossomed in your chest. Petals of kindness and utter devotion floated across your lungs with every breath you took. This man. This out-of-time man, the one who'd completely won your heart, was as infatuated with you as you were with him. The thought helped ease the aches slithering up your spine.

"Pilfer the bag, I'll get your water," Leo uttered quietly. He pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline. You couldn't help the way your pulse involuntarily kicked up at the action. He always had a way of making your heart race.

Having your period was never easy. It fucking sucked. From the agonizing ache rooted in your uterus to the full-body shakes you'd get, that time of the month could be an utter nightmare. But, as you pulled several bars of chocolate out of the plastic bag, the nightmare was starting to look more like a domestic dream. One you never would've expected with Duke Leopold Mountbatten.

Y'ALL I'M IN LOVE WITH A FAKE PERSON

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

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

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

Ship: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader

Wordcount: 1.1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…This was rage.

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

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

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

“Michael—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Day 7 - Distant

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

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

Distant

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lie,” Karen said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did anything out of ordinary happen?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’d rather he stay gone?”

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

“Sweetheart,” he returned

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His arms tightened.

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

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

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

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

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

He laughed. It was watery but genuine.

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

Author’s Notes

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

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

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Stay in Bed

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

Tuna-Tober Prompt: Shaking

Warnings/tags: sick Reader, smidge of hurt/comfort but mostly fluff, and bossy Frank

Summary: You wake up sick and Frank demands you rest.

a/n: I was sick when I wrote this and craving Frank, and then this turned a bit more fluffy than angsty. Oops! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Shivering beneath the sheets in bed, your hands tugged them higher, dragging them all the way up to your chin as you struggled to get warm. Even with the sweatshirt you'd thrown on in the middle of the night when you'd first begun shaking, you couldn't seem to find any relief from the chills repeatedly wracking your body. Not wanting to disturb Frank’s sleep with your continual shivering, you'd long since slid all the way to the edge of your side of the bed in an attempt not to disturb him.

As you lay there quietly still freezing beneath your layers, you tried to swallow the lump that felt like it was stuck in the back of your throat, but your tongue grappled with the movement. Despite the glass of water you'd gotten up and chugged in the kitchen not that long ago, it moved sluggish in your dry mouth. You winced at the painful scratch a moment later when you managed to swallow, no longer able to lay here and deny that you were indeed clearly sick today.

Beside you, you felt the bed dip further from Frank's weight, the sheets rustling as he rolled over onto his side. Even with your eyes still closed you could practically feel his eyes on you, scanning over the way you were huddled up beneath the blankets.

“You good, sweetheart?” he asked, his gruff morning voice greeting you. 

You shook your head against the pillow, another chill racing up your body and causing another round of shaking beneath the sheets. “No,” you croaked. “I don't feel too good this morning.”

The bed dipped further and caused you to open your eyes at the movement. You watched as Frank slid closer towards you along the mattress, noticing the downturned curve of his lips and the look of concern written in his features as he clearly examined the pathetic expression you knew was on your face.

“Why’re you so far away?” he asked. 

“Didn't want to bother you,” you mumbled.

Frank pulled a face at your words, his hand reaching out of the sheets as he rested the back of it against your forehead. The corners of his lips curved somehow further downwards, but your eyelids lowered at his touch. His hand felt so deliciously warm that you couldn’t help but press your face back into it.

“You're burnin’ up,” he told you, the back of his hand still resting along your forehead. “And what the hell d'ya mean ‘didn't want to bother me,’ sweetheart?”

Your brain took a moment to register the question, but as you lay there enjoying the heat from Frank's hand that he’d now lowered to your cheek, another chill surged through you. Curling your legs higher up to your chest, you shook miserably beneath the sheets.

“I'm freezing,” you explained quietly. “Didn't want to wake you with my constant shivering.”

“Goddammit,” Frank cursed under his breath. “I don’t give a damn ‘bout that. If you need somethin’, you wake me. Got it?”

“But you need sleep, too,” you weakly protested.

“Don’t need that much to function,” he countered firmly. “You’re more important.”

Releasing a soft sigh as Frank’s hand slid its way down your cheek, your eyelids fluttered open again. Still laying along his pillow, Frank stared back at you with concern in his eyes as his hand continued to make its way towards your shoulder. The heat of his large palm through the blankets was pleasant, but it sent another shudder straight through you and had you shaking once more beneath the sheets.

“It’s just a cold, Frank,” you told him.

“Don’t give a damn,” he grumbled. “You’ve got a fever and you’re shivering. You should stay in bed, sweetheart.”

You groaned audibly at his suggestion. There was far too much that still needed to get done today, especially if you were still feeling like shit tomorrow. You knew it wasn’t realistic to leave all the errands and chores for Sunday–and you certainly didn’t want to be spending a whole day doing everything.

“Can’t,” you told him, already trying to sit up in bed. “Need to get groceries. Vacuum. Clean the kitchen and bathrooms–”

Frank’s hand on your shoulder gripped just tight enough to stop your movement. Pausing mid-sentence, you saw his eyes narrow back at you before he gave a firm shake of his head.

“You’re stayin’ in bed,” he ordered. “I’m not lettin’ you get up and do any of that.”

“Frank, we need groceries,” you countered. “Food won’t magically appear in the house.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I’ll get the groceries. And I’ll clean the house. Not like I can’t.”

Pushing against his hand, you once more tried to get up. “There’s two loads of laundry I still need to fold,” you continued. “And I need to wash another two more or we won’t have clothes for the week.”

Frank chuckled lightly, his hand still pushing you back down in the bed. You frowned as your head once more landed back on the pillow, your eyes focused on where he was sitting more upright beside you. Another chill slammed into you and you curled further in on yourself, shaking once more beneath the sheets.

“Wouldn’t mind you goin’ naked all week,” Frank teased.

“Frank,” you scolded.

“I got the laundry, sweetheart,” he assured you with a grin. “I can take care of it all. Don’t worry ‘bout it. You just stay here and sleep.” 

Removing his hand from your shoulder, you let out a faint whine at the loss of the heat from it as Frank began to get up. You watched him push the sheets off of himself, sliding out of bed in nothing but his dark boxers. Your eyes scanned over the muscles of his back, fixed on him as he walked over to the dresser and began to pull out a dark tee-shirt. 

“I’ll grab you some water and some cold medicine,” he said, turning around towards you as he tugged the shirt over his torso. “Then I’ll throw in some laundry before gettin’ groceries. I’ll check on you when I get back before taking care of everythin’ else.”

With a defeated sigh, your eyes followed Frank as he walked over to the closet. He slid it open and pulled out a pair of jeans before slipping them on. You curled up further beneath the blankets, your eyelids beginning to feel heavy already. It didn’t help that you hadn’t slept well last night, too busy shivering. 

“It’d go faster if I helped,” you pointed out.

Frank’s head darted up when you spoke, a stern set to his mouth as he finished tugging his jeans up his legs. “All you’re allowed to do,” Frank began seriously, “is stay in bed and sleep. You got that? If I come back and see you’ve been up, I’m draggin’ you right back to bed, sweetheart.”

“Oh?” you asked, a grin slipping onto your lips as another shudder ran through you. “Don’t tempt me with a good time.”

Frank zipped his jeans up, his head tilting to the side as his eyes narrowed at you from across the bedroom. There was no amusement on his face and your smile immediately faltered.

“You think I’m jokin’, sweetheart?” he asked. “I’ll only say it once more. You stay in bed.”

Expelling a sigh, you rolled your eyes at him before snuggling further beneath the sheets. “Alright, alright. You win,” you grumbled, closing your eyes and tugging the blankets up to your chin again. “I’ll rest instead of poking the bossy, grumpy bear today.”

Frank snorted at your comment, the sound drawing a smile wide across your mouth. You knew despite his brusque words that he just wanted you to get better, because deep down the man had a strong desire to care for someone–and that someone just happened to be you.

“You do that, sweetheart,” he ordered. “Just focus on getting better.”

Frank Castle One Shot Tag List: @heimtathurs @linamarr @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @leikelle @pinkratts @1988-fiend @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @stilldreaming666 @will-delete-this-later-probably @yarrystyleeza @pone21 @millennial-birkin @harleycao @kezibear @justanerd1 @sadest-bookshelf @loves0phelia

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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

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

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

Help Me

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

Relationships: Axl Rose x Slash

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

Part 4 of “You’re My Red Rose”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mia shook her head no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: “I’m in love with you, and that scares me.” + A Hug That Lasts A Little Too Long🐟✨

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

At Least Out Loud (Karen Page x Fem!Reader)

Here's my day 2 of Tuna-Tober! Finally wrote something for the love of my life Karen Page

Sorry it ends on a sort of cliffhanger, I am trying to keep these as short as I can manage so I can get through more! Maybe I'll write a part two🤭 Also title is a reference to the absolute BANGER of a song I Won't Say I'm In Love, which hits so much harder in a sapphic context if you ask me <3

Tuna-Tober Day 2: “I’m in love with you, and that scares me.” + A Hug That Lasts A Little Too Long

Pairing: Karen Page x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, sapphic yearning, platonic matt and reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Karen slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to refrain from spitting out her drink at Foggy’s joke. You had failed that challenge, but managed to get it back in your cup as the entire table erupted into laughter. It was a much needed break for all of you, the end of a long week and long work hours. Foggy and Matt at their firm, you and Karen at the Bulletin. You hadn’t been able to spend time together with all four of you in so long. It felt so right, like coming home, and you never wanted it to end. Foggy’s jokes, Matt’s smile, and…Karen. Everything about Karen.

The low lighting of Josie’s gave you courage, or maybe just the ability to hide from the truth. No matter what, at the end of the night in the run-down dive bar, you always were left with that feeling in your stomach. A feeling that felt suspiciously like butterflies.

“Okay, okay, I need to…” Karen let out a few more giggles before running a hand through her stupid, perfect hair. “Need to go. Got a meeting tomorrow morning.”

There was a unisonous groan across the table.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday!” Foggy protested.

“Yes, Foggy, I know. I’m not looking forward to getting up early on a weekend either, but this is when Julia Dayton can meet for an interview.” she explained as she shrugged her bag onto her shoulder.

“Let me know how it goes,” you smile up at her. “That’s gonna be one hell of an article.”

“All thanks to you,” she laughs a little bit. “You helped me finish up my editorial in time.”

You waved a hand in dismissal as she hugged Matt and Foggy goodbye. You stood up too, grabbing your bag. “Walk you home?”

She shook her head. “I called an Uber.” 

“Oh. You sure you’re good going by yourself?”

She smiled knowingly. “I’ll text you when I’m back safe. Okay?” she pulled you into a hug, the faint scent of roses and shitty tequila washing over you as you gently gripped her shoulders. 

“Okay.” you responded, your voice far too small. You briefly wondered how long you should make the hug…were you hugging for too long? Were you making it weird? 

You tried to pull back, but then she held on, and you just about melted in her arms. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, or the way her thumb was ever so slightly moving back and forth on your arm, but you felt entranced. If this was where you stayed for the rest of your life, you’d be completely fine with that.

When the hug finally broke you forced your expression into what you hoped was nonchalant, giving her a small smile. Then she was gone, leaving you to watch her walk out the bar door.

A beat of silence passed before you heard a snort from behind you. You turned around to see Matt and Foggy, trying to hold in smirks.

“What?” you were immediately on the defensive, practically stomping back to your seat. 

“Nothing, nothing. Sorry.”

~

You tried your best to enjoy the rest of the night, but the feeling in your stomach wouldn’t go away. A note of roses still lingered in the air, clouding over every other thought in your head. 

You tell yourself it’s the alcohol.

“Alright, guys. I gotta call it a night.” Foggy sighed, standing up with a slight wobble. 

Matt laughed at the slur in his friend’s voice and his lack of balance. “Yeah, I think that’s for the best, buddy.” 

Foggy shooed him away, huffing as he mumbled something about the King of England being his uber driver.

“It says George the third…” you heard him tell Matt as he walked him out to the car. You laughed to yourself, finishing off the rest of your glass. You weren’t sure how many drinks that had added up to, but for the sake of your sanity you didn’t look at the bill before giving Josie your card. By the time you paid, Matt was back at the table, pulling his jacket around his shoulders.

“Ready to go?” He wasn't nearly as drunk as Foggy, and you couldn’t blame him. After learning about his heightened senses, you could understand how being drunk could be unpleasant for him.

You nodded, starting to force a smile before deciding not to bother. He would tell you’d be faking it, anyway. It almost seemed that he noticed you starting to fake it. You felt him focusing on you as you took his elbow and walked out of the bar.

After a block of heavy silence you pursed your lips and turned to look at him. “Do you have something to say? Or are you just going to keep counting my heart rate or whatever you’re doing?” 

He laughed a little at your remark. “I don’t need enhanced senses to realize you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset.” you said immediately, but there wasn’t any conviction to it. You were too tired, too drunk. He just sighed, because he knew you were lying, and you knew he knew you were lying.

He murmured your name gently, before saying, very quietly, “You can’t keep running from it.” 

The words hit you like a freight train. He was right. That’s what you were doing. You were running from this. That’s what you always did. The tightness expanded in your chest, moving past your ribcage, making your whole body feel like it was under ice water. Tears pricked at your eyes and you furiously wiped at them, turning away from him.

“She’s my best friend, Matt. I…I don’t want to lose her.”

“Do you really think you’d lose her?” he stopped you walking with a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Honestly. Do you think if she somehow doesn’t feel the same, that she would treat you any differently?”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “N-no, no, of course not but it’s…I can’t just…” you struggled to find the words. “It’s not that easy, Matt, I’m…I’m terrified. I’m in love with her and that--that scares me. I don’t like feeling like this. Like I could just give her everything and she could just…say no. Or worse--she says yes. And then I…then I have to find some way to be enough for this beautiful, ambitious, amazing woman.”

Matt frowned. “That’s not how love works. It’s not a business exchange. If she loves you, which I--” he sighed. “Which I really think she does…then you’re already enough for her. It’s why she loves you." He gently placed a hand on your shoulder. “I’m not saying you have to tell her if you’re not ready. I’m just saying that…” he trailed off, searching for the words. “If anyone is going to be gentle with your heart, it’s Karen.”

@tunatober

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: NOTHING UNDERNEATH🐟✨

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

Day 7 - Nothing Underneath (18+)

Paring: Matt Murdock x Reader Word Count: 947 Content: SMUT!! So this fic is 18+ MDNI (I mean it kids, go read some fluff or angst! This ain't for you!) Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: So this is my first time writing smut so I’m sorry if it’s awkward ; I’m trying to push myself writing wise with this writing challenge. Also I’m so so so sorry in advance for the abrupt ending, I wanted to make sure I got this fic out tonight. Ya girl is tired and has a morning shift to wake up for please forgive me (╥﹏╥)

Matt always feels a twinge of guilt every time he has to leave you alone in the apartment when he does his patrols. 

Especially on a night like tonight.

I mean it was just your typical day. . . excluding the fact that you both are just very horny for each other. 

And it wasn’t like you aren’t usually! It was just neither of you had the chance to fuck each other in a couple days and the tension was starting to get to Matt.

“Red?”

Every small touch you did, every time you kissed him goodbye before his patrol, even the one call you did earlier in the week had him getting hard.

All he wanted to do was stay between your thighs and love on you, was that too much to ask?

“Red!” 

Apparently it was. Matt looks over at Frank who was smirking.

“Go home man, you clearly need to work through some things.”

“What are you talking about? I’m fine.” The white knuckled grip on his billy clubs says otherwise, so Frank just rolls his eyes.

“Uh-huh,” He looks back at the empty lot that they’ve been watching over for the past two hours. They got tipped off that a drug deal was sighted around this block, so they’ve been keeping watch to see where it could potentially lead to.

“Y’know. . .” Frank starts, “I’ve been doing just fine without your special senses for years now,” Matt tilts his head in the direction of a building that was seemingly empty, his lips forming a thin line. 

Frank stills and waits. . . nothing.

“Just go home Red.”

. . . “Fine.”

Frank’s eyebrows shoot up, but his expression remains the same.

“There’s not a lot of activity happening inside the building anyways, call me if that changes.”

“You got it Red.” Frank wouldn’t call tonight, Matt figured as much, but it was still worth it to remind him.

Matt starts heading back to his apartment, leaping and bounding across the different rooftops, trying to make it back home before you head to bed.

You figured the Devil would be out late again tonight, just as he had like the past few days. You couldn’t be upset at Matt, but that doesn’t mean you can’t feel frustrated about the circumstances. Almost every time you tried to make a move on Matt he would have to go to work, go patrolling and when he got home you were asleep.

This night was going to be different, you thought. You were determined to fuck him tonight, you just needed to stay awake along enough to do so.

At first you figured it would be good to wear some lingerie to get you in the mood, but after about an hour of just lounging around waiting for Matt to come through the window you could feel your eyes wanting to droop.

You shake your head and decide to just fuck it and not wear any clothes, yeah that’ll do it! You weren’t even sure if he would be able to tell unless he was close enough to you. Smiling, you remove the lingerie you put on and walk back into your shared bedroom. You slip under the covers, completely naked, just scrolling on your phone waiting patiently for your devil to return home. Still a bit bored, but horny, you slowly reach down and start slowly toying with your clit, thinking how Matt would be so much better.

All you wanted was just his mouth to devour you, no maybe have him fuck you til you couldn’t cum anymore. A small moan escapes your lips as you keep playing with your clit, moving your fingers in a circular motion but barely putting any pressure.

Your breathing shallows as you start moving your hand faster and faster, but it just doesn’t satisfy you. Feeling frustrated you remove your hand and roll to your side putting your phone down. Maybe you should just go to sleep, you guys can fuck in the-

“Sweetheart?”

“Matt?” You turn around and see Matt, breathing heavily but with each breath you see him get more and more tense.

“Fuck, are you naked?” His voice lower than before.

“Yes, I just-” He walks over to you and you look away from him, “I dunno-” He shifts you to face him his body right in between your legs, “I thought-”

He kisses you with a searing passion cutting you off. You moan into the kiss grabbing onto his face pulling him closer towards you. You can feel him smile as you reach the base of his neck, gently tugging some of his hair. 

He starts moving down your neck, kissing every exposed part of you “I want you like this every time I come home.” He tells you in between kisses. You breathe out a laugh, seeing that he’s still mostly dressed in his nightly outfit.

“Matty your suit-”

“I don’t care.” He kneels down to go further down your body until his face is at your cunt. He sighs happily as he moves his hand up your body, gently grabbing onto one of your boobs. With his other hand, he inserts two fingers into your dripping cunt, slowly working them in and out.

You moan his name as he continues to work his hands on your body, waves of pleasure making your eyes go hazy. 

He removes his hand from your cunt and takes a taste from his fingers, moaning. You look over at him and notice that he’s managed to remove his pants just enough to start palming his cock with the hand that was just inside you. 

This was going to be a long night, but you both needed it.