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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

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

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

dreams unwind, love's a state of mind

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

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

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

word count: 2.1k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was Logan Howlett too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Logan?"

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

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

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

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

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

His girl. His princess.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"God I wish that were true."

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

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

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

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

"I don't fuckin' care."

"I don't want to get caught–"

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

"My shirt!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But–"

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

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

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

This was something he could steal for himself.

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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

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

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

Time for Day 3 of the Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! For Day Three, I chose to combine the fluff and angst prompts ("I feel real when I'm with you" and 'Broken'), and I also decided to try my hand at one of Charlie Cox's other characters for once, that being our favorite sad, tragic, sweetheart of a mobster Michael Kinsella! You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me. Also, if you'd like notifications when I post a new story, drabble, or chapter, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications! And off we go!

Ship: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader

Wordcount: 2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Just… be gentle with him, dear.” 

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

“Oh, Michael,” you whispered. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I take ya ta breakfast tomorrow?”

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

“I’d love that.”

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

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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

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

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

THE BOSS

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

——————

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

-Nathan.

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

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

-I hire you of course I know your name.

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

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

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

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

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

-I like to say that I’m sorry…

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

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

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

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

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

-So?- he repeated the question.

-So what?- you asked.

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

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

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

So?- you asked this time

-So what?- He asked.

-where do you get your love for the technology?

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

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

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

-I’m sorry- you said.

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

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

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

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

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

-I need you to leave- he said.

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

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

-What? But Nathan I thought that…

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

-You can’t be serious

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

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

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

-Yn…

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

-You weren’t supposed to be there

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

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

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

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

-How did you…

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

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

-Yn this is serious.

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

-You could told me that.

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

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

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

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

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

-It hurts a little…

-Let me go found a nurse.

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

-Fuck Nathan I hate how good you are talking.

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

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

-What ever you said.

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

Xxxxx

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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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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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Day 6 - Almost Getting Caught

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader Word Count: 405 Content: Fluff, a little suggestive but it's not smut, Reader is Yuji's Aunt (she's his mom's sister) Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: Once again I wrote this in about 20 minutes so it's definitely not perfect. That being said this is a small little taste of a series that I'm working on and want to post soon (I just want to have most of the fic written out before I start posting it)! Also this is from the backup prompt list of Tuna-Tober. Enjoy!!

“Hey Auntie, I had a quest-”

“YUJI! What a surprise!!” THUNK! You come out of your bedroom, slamming the door shut and straightening out your teaching uniform.

Yuji looks at you with confusion, his hand resting on his chin, eyes squinting like he’s in deep thought. You know what’s really going on in his head is just radio silence. You shake your head to avoid laughing at how serious he looks.

You fix your hair, “What is it hon?”

“I was just wondering if you would spar with me, but if you’re busy-?”

“I’m not busy at all, just um. . .” You brush off stray dust off your skirt, “I was just going for my usual run and I sensed you walking towards my room and I figured I’d save you the trouble of finding me.” You smile at him, hoping that would be convincing enough.

He breaks his concentration and gives you a smile back, “That’s really thoughtful of you Auntie.”

“Well, I can meet you at the gym in about 15 minutes. Let me get into something more appropriate for sparring.”  

“Okay I’ll see you in a bit then!” He salutes at you as you lead him out of your room. Once he’s out of your sight you sigh and shut the door. Your bedroom door slowly opens as Gojo peaks his head out.

“Well?”

“He bought it.”

“Seriously?” Gojo fully opens the door, shirt fully off and his blindfold askew.

“We only have 10 minutes though,” You start unbuttoning the top of your uniform, walking up to Gojo.

“I seem to remember someone saying she’ll meet Yuji in 15~” He leans down and starts leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.

You try to push him away, your resolve weakening, “10 minutes Gojo.”

He works his way back up your neck and gives you a quick kiss on your lips, “15.”

You give him a look as he starts helping you undress, “10.” 

He doesn’t stop smiling as he kisses you again, “15.” 

“10.” You breathe out once he pulls away. You tug his blindfold off and push him towards your bed. 

He reaches out to you, “You’re not winning this fight sweetheart~” 

“Five of your minutes just ticked away~” You put your hand in his and he immediately pulls you into the bed with him.

“And that leaves us with 10 minutes, it’s settled then. Glad we could figure this out.”

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Tuna-Tober Day 6 - George Weasley

pairing: Geroge Weasley x fem!reader

prompt: "Shh...I've got you now. I'm here."

word count: 2,051

content: Unforgivable Curse use, blood, choking, bounding to chair

tuna-tober masterlist / main masterlist

dividers by: @firefly-graphics

You were attending your now mandatory seventh year of school at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and it was going about as well as you expected with everything going on with the war against You-Know-Who. Hogwarts of course wasn’t spared from the infestation of his followers, and with Dumbledore dead, the place had all gone to pot. 

Snape was in charge, and as if that wasn’t bad enough by itself, there were two new professors who were known followers of You-Know-Who… The Carrows. The brother taught what was now just called Dark Arts and the sister taught the required class of Muggle Studies. Instead of the class focusing on Muggle artefacts and how they functioned though, she taught how inferior the Muggles were compared to Wizards and how You-Know-Who would restore the “proper order” of things. You thought it was all total rubbish and you had made it clear to them from day one that you weren’t falling for their propaganda. 

By the end of the first month, you were getting stir crazy with not knowing how things were going on the outside of the castle and knowing that no one knew what was going on inside. The Profit wasn’t publishing anything useful, so you attempted to get an owl out to your long time boyfriend, George Weasley, to ask what he knew. It was a calculated risk, and the reward was not worth it. The Carrows had intercepted your letter before it even left the school grounds and you were subjected to corporal punishment at their hand. 

Needless to say, it was hard getting mail in and out of the school by the usual means, so after some thinking, you had resorted to using the secret passages hidden throughout the school grounds. You knew of these only because George had shown you some of them before he and his twin brother departed the school in grand fashion when Delores Umbridge took over the school. As bad as it was nowadays, sometimes you wished that Umbridge was still in charge. At least with her, seventh year students weren’t instructed to torture first years…

Even with getting owls out through a secret passage that took you to the Hogshead Inn, there was always the potential for mail to be intercepted and read though, so when things started getting rough, you and George had come up with a code system that you would use in your letters. The cipher was sent in multiple pieces over weeks, but once it was established, communication between Hogwarts and the outside world was a go. Because of this, you were the main source of information about the happenings of the school for Potterwatch listeners and freedom fighters throughout the wizarding world. Not that they could do anything about it…

Some weeks, there was nothing but bad news at the school, and your letters simply served as proof of life, and George’s replies did the same. You usually wrote of what the new rules were for the school, how punishment had changed, and just the daily happenings around the castle. One day though, George received a very different letter and the handwriting wasn’t yours. It was asking him to come to the school immediately. 

Hours before…

You were irritably bouncing your leg as you sat in your seat for Dark Arts class. Professor Carrow had once more brought a group of first years to be punished for trivial rubbish. Up until now, you had never been called upon to dole out their punishment, but still, you hated to have to watch the poor young kids suffer at the hands of other students. Some days you had worked with your fellow DA members and got word out that there was trouble in your class. They would cause a distraction outside so you could sneak the young students out to avoid punishment. This of course caused you to get in trouble instead, but you were okay with that. You were more capable of enduring the Carrows. 

Things were different today. The Carrows had been particularly harsh throughout the week, and were getting people in trouble for the littlest of things. Someone’s robe was slightly wrinkled? Detention. They wore their tie slightly off centre? Detention. A student flipped the pages of their textbook too loudly? Detention. Needless to say, you were fed up. After months of enduring their terror, you felt like you were at your breaking point. And it only got worse when you were called up to the front of the room by Professor Carrow. 

“It has been brought to my attention that you’ve never been called up for your practice with the Cruciatus Curse. I think it’s time we change that,” he said, a small smirk on his lips as you stood before him. You refused to look in his eye and instead glared over his shoulder. “I’ve seen your talent with it when we’ve practised on rodents. You’ve got a lot of anger inside of you, child. Now you just need to take it out on these weak children.”

You turned and looked at the tired and terrified faces in front of you. Some you knew had gotten in trouble before and were just wanting to get this over with, but some were brand new faces. Likely subject to detention because of a minor infraction. Their terrified eyes pleaded with you, begging without words for you to not hurt them. It broke your heart. 

“I won’t,” you stated defiantly, still not turning to give Carrow your respect. 

“You will,” he snarled as he pressed the tip of his wand into the side of your neck. His voice suddenly got closer and his breath was hot on your skin as he said, “If you don’t, I will. And I won’t relent until they’ve learned their lesson.”

This statement had you seeing red and your chest began to heave with anger. The grip you had on your wand tightened, and before he could make another move, you snapped around and pointed your wand at him, shouting, “Crucio!” when he was in your sights. 

“Go, now!” shouted Sheamus before standing up with a few other DA members who began clearing the room. Before he left, Sheamus turned back and called out your name for you to follow, but was met with a horrifying sight. 

Once you stopped concentrating on the curse and Carrow recovered from the pain you subjected him to, he was furious. Before you could even turn tail and run out of the classroom, Carrow had bellowed, “Diffindo!” and large gashes ripped through your robes and skin, causing blood to start seeping into your clothes. Your screams pierced the air before Carrow was grabbing you by the throat and shouting, “You think you can turn your wand on me?! You think you can get away with that unscathed?! You’re in for a world of torture, girl!” 

“Sheamus, go!” you managed to choke out when you realised that he was still in the room. 

“No!” Carrow shouted, flicking his wand and causing the heavy classroom door to slam shut. “You, boy, as punishment for aiding the other children, are going to help me deal with this brat! The two of you are close, so with what I have in mind, it’ll be punishment enough. If you don’t, you’ll be subject to the same.” After he finished his statement, he tightened his grip on your throat the slightest bit while waiting for an answer. 

“I won’t!” Sheamus countered. 

“Just…just do it!” you choked out, your voice quiet even to your own ears as you began to get dizzy. 

You didn’t hear your friend say anything, but assumed that he agreed when Carrow’s hold on you released and you crumbled to the ground, gasping for air. The relief was momentary though, because within seconds you were being forced up and into a chair before being bound to it. 

As you slumped forward, you heard Sheamus mumble, “Forgive me…” before your body was wracked with the most excruciating pain you had ever experienced. 

What followed was more wounds being inflicted into your skin and the chair with you in it being blasted into the wall. You lost count of how many times the Cruciatus Curse was cast on you, but even through your scrambled thoughts, you could tell which ones Carrow cast - they were more painful. More evil. 

By the time black was threatening to take over your vision, you finally heard, “I think she’s learned her lesson.” The chair magically sat upright as Carrow snarled, “Next time you know not to disobey me. This is going to be child’s play compared to what you’ll endure if you dare turn your wand on me again. Now get out of my classroom.”

Sheamus waved his wand and your bounds were released, causing you to collapse out of the chair and onto the floor in a heap. You were in and out of it as he practically dragged you in the direction of the Room of Requirement. When the two of you arrived, Sheamus was calling, “Neville! Hannah! I need some help!” 

“What happened?” Hannah asked, her eyes wide as she took in your bloodied form. 

“She refused to cast the Cruciatus Curse on the first-years. Cast it on Carrow instead,” he told her with a shake of his head. A grim look crossed his features and he scowled as he added, “He made me cast it on her too. Five times. I had half a mind to turn my wand on him too…”

“Good thing you didn’t. This is awful…” Hannah whispered as she started helping Sheamus get you to a secluded area to tend to your wounds. Before they got to the area, she turned to Neville and said, “Write to George. He needs to know what’s happened.”

“On it,” Neville agreed before rushing off to get a letter written. 

“Where is she?” George asked urgently as he ducked through the portrait that hid the passage from the Hogshead Inn. 

“They’re still trying to heal her, mate, just give-” Neville said as he stood up from his desk. 

“I need to see her!” George snapped, the terror and fury in his eyes obvious to Neville who nodded and took George to where Hannah and Sheamus were still healing the many gashes Carrow had inflicted on you. 

“We’ve gotten most of it, there shouldn’t be any visible scars,” Hannah said, giving George a small smile as she wrapped a blanket around you. 

She and Sheamus stood, and the latter clasped George’s hand in his before going in for a quick hug with a pat on the back, telling him, “She’s been asking for you. Good to see you, mate.”

George simply nodded before making his way to your side. He settled down into the heap of pillows before pulling you gently into his arms. When he did, you finally let go of the tears you had been holding back since Carrow got his hands on you. “Shh…I’ve got you now. I’m here,” George whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he pulled you closer and nuzzled into your hair, kissing your head gently as he did. 

It took a while, but you finally calmed down enough to whisper, “Thank you…”

“For what?” George asked, placing a kiss on your temple. 

“For coming. You…you didn’t have to. It’s dangerous,” you replied, shifting so you could wrap your arms around him and snuggle into his chest. 

“For you I’d risk anything,” he told you. Soon enough, your exhaustion took over and you fell asleep in George’s arms. The sleep itself was heavy, but your mind was filled with nightmares that you were sure you wouldn’t escape for years to come. 

From then on, George would make trips to the school to check in on you as well as deliver things the DA and rebelling students needed. The first trip back was to bring a surplus of supplies to make potion for dreamless sleep. After that was prank supplies to boost morale. Then it was defensive products to protect yourselves. Some days it was simply him, and those days you were especially grateful for. George was your safe place and you were his. And in these times of war, that was something you both needed. 

I always think it's interesting to see stories written from the year that the Trio wasn't there, so that's what inspired this lil story for the prompt. I once again am showing off how much I love writing George Weasley's protective side!

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

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

And here we are on Day 2 of the Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! For Day Two, I chose the fluff prompt: Flower Crowns. You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me. And off we go!

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Wordcount: 985

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

It was rare that he found time to simply relax.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He couldn’t see it, of course. 

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

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: FLOWER CROWNS🐟✨

✨🐟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 2

Here's day 2 of Tuna-tober.

Prompt: Flower Crowns

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Word Count: ~1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I made you something, Logan.”

“Oh?”

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

“Is that so?”

“Yep!”

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

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

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

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

“Does that mean you'll wear it?”

“...what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“What?”

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

“Well, if you're certain…”

“I am.” 

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

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

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

You wouldn't have it any other way. 

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟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.