✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: NIGHTMARE 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

"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: "Shh, I've got you now. I'm here."🐟✨

✨🐟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 My Safe Place

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

Tuna-Tober Prompt: “Shh, I’ve got you now. I’m here.”

Warnings/tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, panic attack, mentions of Reader being teased for weight (and a couple other things), soft Frank

Summary: Frank and you are getting ready to attend your family's Thanksgiving dinner later, but the stress of the holiday season and the distress of seeing your horrible aunt has you nosediving right into a panic attack.

a/n: I've always wanted to write Frank comforting Reader over a panic attack so I slipped one in for this event. This is for anyone with a family member (or members) that are awful to be around now that the holidays are coming up. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

With both hands grasping the kitchen counter in a near death grip, you leaned over the countertop as you tried to stay focused on the coffee machine in front of you. You were tired, having woken up early to a string of anxious thoughts about the Thanksgiving dinner tonight with your extended family that Frank and you would be attending. But as the coffee began to brew with a soft whir, your mind continued spiraling like it had been doing since five this morning. Ever since you’d woken up in bed next to Frank, staring at his bare shoulder poking out from beneath the bed sheets, you hadn’t been able to stop the dread and anxiety about what horrible comments your aunt would subject you to at this holiday gathering. Especially with all of the stress you’d already been under with the holiday season now in full swing.

Breath coming in sharper, your hands gripped the countertop even tighter. Farther down the hall you could hear Frank moving around in the bedroom getting ready for the day, and as much as you tried to ground yourself in the familiarity of that, you felt yourself steadily slipping as your mind replayed all of the awful things your aunt had said to you in the past–about your age and lack of a husband, the fact that you were still childless, that your profession was a joke, and even making jabs about your weight. Your vision began to blur as her irritating voice rang clear in your mind, your heart pounding so heavily that you felt the resounding vibration in your throat. Your rib cage felt as if it had clamped itself around your lungs and heart like a vice, constricting them both tighter and tighter while you fought to take a single full breath.

A panic attack. You were on the verge of another panic attack. Teetering just right at the edge, waiting to topple straight into it.

But no–no, you couldn’t. Not here. Not with Frank just in the other room. He had never seen you like this before and you never wanted him to see you like this. He had enough to worry about already and you refused to be another reason for the crease between his brows. He didn’t need to know how much something so ridiculous affected you. But at the same time, you knew tonight was the first family gathering of yours he’d be attending. Which meant it would be the first time he’d meet your aunt. The first time he’d be hearing the things she’d say about you.

Desperately you began sharply inhaling air through your gritted teeth, your eyes snapping tightly shut as you tried to get control of yourself. You just needed to focus, to breathe, to think about literally anything else besides the dinner and your aunt. But the harder you tried to fight it, the more her insults kept slipping through the quickly crumbling cracks in your mind. 

You were falling into it now, too far gone. The memories of past family gatherings were surfacing now; her repeated passive aggressive comments at the dinner table about your plate of food, the Christmas gifts that were meant ‘to help you attract a man’ or ‘lose a few of those unnecessary pounds,’ the constant comparisons to her golden child of a daughter, the rude questions about your salary. Your body was curling in on itself as you kept struggling to fight off the sensation that was dragging you under. You were gasping for breath, hyperventilating and too deep in to pull yourself back out. With shaking, sweat-dampened hands, you tried to readjust your hold on the countertop as if it was some lifeline that would keep you grounded in the present. But with your eyes closed, your hand missed the countertop and accidentally bumped into one of the coffee mugs sitting on it instead. You’d opened your eyes just in time to see the white ceramic mug fall to the floor and shatter, the noise louder than that of your own ragged, sharp breaths.

That’s when you lost it.

Dropping to the floor in a heap, tears streamed down your cheeks as you pulled your legs up to your body, as if they’d somehow help to keep your heart from beating straight through your chest. Your nails dug into your calves, partially in an attempt to keep your legs firmly pressed to yourself, but partly because the sting of them biting into your skin helped to counteract the growing panic inside of you.

And that’s when you’d heard Frank’s thudding, hurried footsteps as he came rushing out of the bedroom and straight into the kitchen. With vision tinged in white at the edges, you struggled to look up at Frank when he paused at the entrance of the room. You could only imagine how you looked to him right now, huddled in a ball beside the shattered coffee mug, tears pouring down your cheeks as you continued to suck in shallow, gasping breaths. 

He didn’t stand there long. In four quick strides he was on the floor beside you, a stern and almost unreadable expression on his face. But even in the midst of your panic attack, you could still see the fear and worry hidden behind his dark eyes. He was terrified and confused.

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” he ordered.

His hands hovered in the air between you both, as if he wanted to offer you comfort but he wasn’t certain if he should touch you. Your tongue darted out of your dry mouth to wet your lips as you attempted to concentrate, but the lack of proper oxygen to your brain with the way you’d been breathing was causing everything to become a haze. And with the way your breaths kept coming in sharp and shallow, there was no way you could get a word out.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. “Somethin’ happen? Tell me what’s goin’ on.”

You shook your head in answer to his questions, your entire body trembling against the kitchen cabinets behind you. There was no way you could form words right now, not with the way it felt like your throat was closing up.

Almost as if a light went off in Frank’s head a second later, realization dawned on him and his entire demeanor shifted. Immediately the urgency left his voice, his tone becoming something soft and soothing as his hands finally and gently landed on your shoulders. Though the concern was still apparent in his eyes, not something he could just push away.

“Relax, honey,” he said. “You’re alright. ‘S'just a panic attack.”

You nodded, breath still coming in sharp, short gasps. This wasn’t the first one you’d had, but that didn’t alleviate the fear and embarrassment that managed to surface within you at the moment. You didn’t want Frank to see you like this.

“Need you to take some deep breaths, sweetheart,” he told you. “In and out. Can you do that for me?”

Nodding again, you felt a few more hot tears streak their way down your cheeks. As Frank’s thumbs drew comforting little circles along your shoulders, his face hovering just a foot in front of yours, you tried to inhale a deep, shaky breath.

“That’s it, honey,” he praised. “Nice and slow. Don’t fight it, just breathe through it.”

Nails digging tight into your calves, you tried to focus on Frank’s face and his soothing words. Inhaling another ragged breath in, you tried to take a full breath while fighting the protesting burning in your lungs. Frank’s eyes remained fixed on you as you inhaled the breath, but his hands released your shoulders, both of them coming down to gently pull your fingers away from where they were digging into your calves. 

“Keep going, sweetheart,” he encouraged. “Doin’ good.”

As you inhaled a few more sharp breaths, your tears gradually began to slow even if the trembling of your body did not lessen. The rough pads of Frank’s thumbs began soothingly stroking the back of your hands, the sensation helping to steadily draw you back to the present and out of your head.

“I’m–I’m sorry,” you gasped out.

“Shh, I’ve got you now. I’m here,” Frank murmured, pulling you in towards himself. “Don’t apologize.”

Clinging to him, your hands desperately grabbed at the back of his soft sweater as you buried your face into his shoulder. Your breathing was still shallow and uneven, your heart beating a little erratically in your chest, but you felt yourself little by little coming back out of the panic attack as you continued to follow Frank’s calm instructions to breathe in and out.

It was a few minutes before you finally felt yourself really calm down. You kept your face buried in Frank’s shoulder, embarrassment coursing through you. You couldn’t believe he’d just witnessed you have a panic attack, let alone over something so stupid.

“You good?” he eventually asked after a moment.

Nodding your head against his shoulder, your fingers eased their grip on his sweater, though you didn’t release your hold of him. “Yeah,” you quietly answered.

“What was that 'bout?” he asked.

You stiffened in his arms, afraid to tell him the truth. Tonight was the first family gathering of yours he’d agreed to attend, which meant he was bound to witness some of these comments firsthand. Even if you didn’t tell him about it now, you knew he’d eventually see it happening later.

“C’mon sweetheart,” Frank gently prompted. “Can’t help if you don’t talk to me.”

“It’s…it’s stupid,” you muttered into his shoulder.

“Not stupid if it’s got you this upset,” he disagreed. “Talk to me.”

Sighing, you turned and rested your cheek along his shoulder, keeping your eyes averted as embarrassment continued to flush your face. “It’s just…this Thanksgiving dinner tonight. I have this–this aunt that I cannot stand. She’s always stuck her nose into my personal business–and I mean real personal sometimes. And she makes these–” you paused, wincing, “–these horribly rude comments to me. Usually when it’s just her cornering me somewhere, but sometimes over the holiday dinners in front of everyone. And I–I just don’t want to see her.”

“Then don’t go,” he said. “We don’t have to.”

“I can’t just not go, Frank,” you replied. “I’d never see my family for holidays again if I simply just stopped going to family gatherings. And generally I enjoy seeing everybody else, it’s just–just her. And I’m…”

Your voice trailed off, your eyes focused on the shattered coffee mug still on the floor just behind Frank. Besides hearing the things she might throw at you this time, the other thing that had been bothering you recently was the fact that this time she would be making these comments in front of Frank. He’d be there to hear every jab she made about you, every comment about what a failure she thought you were or what she deemed wrong with your appearance. Right in front of him.

“You’re what?” he asked.

Swallowing hard, your eyes slowly closed before you answered him in a small voice. “I’m not looking forward to you hearing it.”

Frank’s large hands were immediately pulling your face away from his shoulder before turning it to look at him. You were met with a firm, fearsome expression, one that would’ve sent a shudder down your spine if you hadn’t known how soft he truly was beneath that gruff and intimidating exterior. 

“She won’t say a goddamn thing with me there, sweetheart,” Frank told you, voice a low warning. “Promise you that.”

You smiled softly back up at him. “Frank, you can’t start a physical altercation at Thanksgiving dinner,” you pointed out.

“No,” he agreed. “But I don’t have to do that to get her to keep her mouth shut.”

An amused snort slipped out of you at his words, your mind racing through a myriad of possible situations of how Frank would keep your aunt from verbally attacking you this evening. Each scenario was just as satisfying as the next.

“Honestly, I don’t doubt that,” you replied before sighing. “And I know this…just seems like a dumb thing to get so worked up over but…her comments really get to me. Just every time I see her, she’s always twisting the knife. And then her words stick with me. Always have ever since I was little.”

Frank held you a bit tighter in his arms as he shook his head firmly. “Not alright with anyone talkin’ to you like that. Making you feel this upset,” he told you. “She’s already on my shit list and I haven’t met her.”

You couldn’t fight back the little laugh that bubbled out of you at the idea of Frank Castle putting your aunt on his ‘shit list.’ A tiny grin slipped onto his lips at the sound, a mischievous glint appearing in his dark eyes.

“I have a feeling you and her will not get along this evening,” you said.

“I’ve got that same feeling, sweetheart,” Frank replied, his grin growing. “But whatever happens, you know I’ll be right there.”

Smiling softly up at him, you nodded. “Yeah, yeah I know you will be.”

Frank pulled you back to his chest, his hands once more soothingly running along your back. When he spoke again, his voice a deep rumble, you felt a bit of the anxiety in your mind easing just a bit.

“Not gonna be alone tonight,” he murmured. “Be right there with you.”

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

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

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

You’re My Red Rose

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

Relationship: Axl Rose x Slash

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

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

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

1980

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

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

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

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

“How do I look?” Axl asked.

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

“Cute?” Axl furrowed his eyebrows.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was his older stepbrother, Andrew.

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

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

“See you tomorrow.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: BEGGING + 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!🐟 ✨

Day 5 - On the Brink

Prompts: 5- Begging + 8 - Overstimulation Character: Frank Castle Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader Word Count: 390 Warnings: Explicit smut, referenced fingering, edging, overstimulation, begging, use of good girl, dirty talk, mild spanking, hints of brat tamer! Frank, p in v sex, unprotected sex, slightly rough sex Tags: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist

On the Brink

Almost there . . . you were close, teetering on the brink . . .

Then, as if he could remember your mind, Frank withdrew his fingers from your cunt. No! Not again! You tried to push back, to chase those fingers, but the heavy weight of Frank’s other arm against your back kept you pinned to the counter. No matter how much you struggled, he was too strong. You could do nothing to stop those fingers from leaving. From having your building orgasm shatter into nothing for the third time.

“Frank!” you whined.

“What is it, darlin’?” he asked, his now free hand massaging your upturned ass. “You need something?”

He knew damn well what you needed. That orgasm he had denied you three times! But your angry retort turned into a whimper when his fingers returned to your cunt. The touch was so light that under ordinary circumstances, you would have barely noticed it. But these weren’t ordinary circumstances. Your clit was swollen with need, from being brought to that edge again and again without ever being allowed to topple over it. Even that barely-there touch felt so good, it was almost painful. And almost enough to make you cum. Almost but not quite . . . 

You whimpered even louder when those fingers once again were withdrawn.

“What does my good girl need?” he asked, gripping your hips and pressing himself against you. You whined at the sensation of his hard cock sliding through your soaked folds, then whimpered when the head nudged against your entrance. “Does she need me to fuck her?”

“Yes,” you moaned out. “Fuck me.”

He slapped your ass. “Good girls ask nicely.”

“Frankie!”

Another smack. “Don’t start being a brat. Ask nicely.”

“Please fuck me,” you begged, too desperate to care that you were begging. “Please, I need your cock, please, plea-!”

Your begging cut off in a wail as he pushed himself inside you. All the way in, without a single pause. Then he began to thrust. The pace was fast and hard. His grunts mixed with your moans, almost loud enough to drown out the obscene squelching noise of his cock filling your cunt again and again.

You didn’t even notice the hand leaving your hip. Until its fingers were once against rubbing your clit.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you begged, feeling yourself teetering once more on the brink.

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: ROLE REVERSAL🐟✨

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

Tuna-tober Day 3

Here's day 3!

Prompt: Role Reversal

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader

Word count: 428

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

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

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

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

“Sweetheart…”

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

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

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

“Sweet-”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Good boy.”

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

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: WATER GUN FIGHT🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

"From A Squirt Gun, With Love" (Bucky Barnes x F!Reader, Fic)

Time for the next prompt for my Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! This is for day 5's prompt: water gun fight. It's also been a while since I've written for my favorite super soldier, so today's prompt is for Bucky Barnes! 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! Side note, once I've got more these will all be edited a bit more and placed on my AO3, so if you lose one, just keep an eye out over there!

Ship: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Wordcount: 1.5k

Warnings for this chapter, let's do this: some suggestive dialogue and innuendo

You couldn’t afford another mistake. 

He’d been hunting you for at least an hour now, stalking you determinedly through the corridors of the compound and the manicured gardens outside. He’d already nailed you half a dozen times. And much to your disbelief, one of those times was because he’d somehow managed to find his way up into the air vents where he could track you unseen. You’d done your best to at least make it a challenge for him, relying on a variety of traps you’d managed to set up ahead of time, but it hadn’t done you as much good as you’d hoped, your hit count a measly two against his six. And now? Now you were running low on ammunition, and just as low on workable options. What was worse, he’d cornered you in the garage. You’d been able to tuck yourself beneath an SUV before he could see you, but there was only one exit—one currently being monitored by your annoyingly precise marksman of a boyfriend. 

You held your breath at the quiet scrape of heavy combat boots scuffing against the concrete floor. If you had to guess, he was wandering around about two rows over and off to your left. He could have bent over and just scanned beneath the cars immediately, but he was enjoying this far too much to let it end that easily. He was toying with you, dragging things out now that he had you boxed in. 

“I know you’re in here, doll,” came his low chuckle. “Come on out, and I’ll go easy on you. Besides, you gotta be soaked by now, and not in the fun way. But I can change that for you if you want. All you gotta do is pop that pretty head up for me.”

Not a chance. 

You weren’t going down without a fight. 

You clutched your water gun tighter, checking the glowing tactical display—you hadn’t even known high-tech water guns existed until Bucky had dropped one into your hands with a grin. “If my girl wants a water gun fight, we’re gettin’ a water gun fight.” 

And what you saw wasn’t good. 

Shit. 

You were down to eighteen percent tank capacity. Anywhere else in the compound, you might have had a chance to reload with one of the buckets you’d both scattered around, but you’d forgotten to put one in the garage. If you didn’t get him with your next shot, you were done. 

“The fact that you’re not out here shootin’ at me like before tells me you’re low.” His voice sounded different now: higher up, and a bit more distant. Had he… climbed on top of the cars? “You need more practice. I’ll admit, I was proud of you when you got that ass shot in, but that ain’t happenin’ again. My turn to get your ass now, darlin’. You gonna give me what’s mine?”

You sucked your lower lip for a moment before carefully edging your way forward, water gun held in front of you just in case he decided to pull a horror movie move and drop into view. It wasn’t easy. The goddamn water gun was shaped more like a shotgun than a super soaker, clunky and a bitch to drag around. The upside was it had an automatic reload so you didn’t have to worry about making any noise while pumping the gun. Its range was good for a water gun, around twenty feet, but not good enough that you could shoot Bucky at distance. You’d need to get close.

One of the cars down the row creaked, tires groaning, presumably as your massive super soldier of a boyfriend strolled along the top of the cars like they were paving stones. That he wasn’t bothering to be silent was… unusual.

“Here, kitty kitty,” he purred, his voice growing fainter as he wandered down towards the other end of the garage. “Where’s my pretty girl gone?”

On the one hand, you enjoyed hearing that tone from him, playful and relaxed, warm and content. He’d grown pretty comfortable with you, open and affectionate, over the time you’d known him. That comfort, that openness with you had only blossomed further as your relationship had morphed into something romantic. But even so, it was still unusual for him to let go like this just so he could have fun. It was progress, and that knowledge filled your heart with a sparkling warmth. 

But you also couldn’t help but be the least bit suspicious, because it would be absolutely like him to use his voice and playful tone to distract you from something. 

You froze again when a pair of boots suddenly appeared on the concrete in front of you, landing without a sound—you’d been right; all the sound a minute ago had been to try to lure you out, make you think he was farther away than he really was. You didn’t dare move, not when the slightest sound might give you away. Slowly, the boots shifted on the concrete as he turned one way, and then the other. Waiting for you to make a run for it. 

But he’d taught you better than that. 

There was the softest, quietest little huff of amusement, or maybe pride, instead. But instead of heading off, he began to kneel. 

Shit, shit, shit—

He was going to duck down and look under the car. He knew you were here, he had to. He had to. Could you shift the angle of your water gun before he leaned down and saw you—

Fortunately for you, it became clear a second later that he was only lowering himself into a crouch. You stilled again in the shadows beneath the SUV, your gun still aimed cautiously at his legs.

Speaking of wish, you had a really good view of his thighs at this angle. With him crouched the way he was, his thighs looked even thicker than usual, deliciously hard muscle covered in old denim. The round curve of his ass looked just as good where he filled out his jeans, though the dark splotch on the tight fabric made you grin. It was a testament to one of the only two shots you’d managed to him with. Sure, he’d shot you twice in the ass in retaliation, but it had been absolutely worth it. 

He settled onto the balls of his feet, rocking a little back and forth. You heard a soft whir, before his metal hand appeared in your view. Your heart skipped a beat, a droplet of maybe-water-maybe-sweat rolling down your temple. Only… his hand didn’t appear to be going for you like you’d expected. Instead, it slipped down to the concrete. One metal fingertip gleaming in the fluorescent lighting, it brushed lightly at the droplets of water drying on the concrete. 

Fresh droplets. 

From you. 

Crap. 

His head appeared beneath the SUV as he leaned over to meet your eye. Then he flashed you a feral grin. “Hi doll,” he said smugly. “Hi Bucky. I love you,” you said fondly, and shot him in the face. 

His head reared back as he spat out a curse, frantically swiping the water away from his face. It gave you just enough time for you to squirm out from under the SUV and take off down row between the cars, your sneakers slapping against the concrete, the wind blowing your hair back. If you could get to the door before he did, you could turn around and lock him in. It wouldn’t keep him here forever, but it might buy you a few minutes to reload. 

Based on the rapidly pounding footsteps behind you, though, you weren’t even going to get close. Not when it sounded like he was charging after you with every last bit of super-soldier-powered speed he had. You needed another plan, or else—

Something slammed hard against one of the cars behind you, startling you enough to make you stumble. In that brief moment of distraction, Bucky had vaulted himself up off the car and over your head. 

His broad form landed smoothly in front of you in one easy motion, dropping into a crouch. He rose slowly, powerful muscle gradually uncoiling inch by inch, until finally he loomed up over you, water gun held ominously in one hand. His pale eyes had gone dark with heat, pupils blown wide as he fixated on you: his prey. He took one prowling step forward, a flash of pink from his tongue as he lazily licked the droplets of water away from his mouth.

“You shot me,” he rumbled hungrily. “I should be mad. But damn, doll. That was hot.” “Hot enough to stop you from shooting me back?” you asked hopefully.

“Not a chance,” he said with a smirk, before firing a blast of cold water directly at your abdomen. You let out another shriek, turning to sprint away from him, a trail of damp footprints left behind. And if your shriek was half laughter, well, his playful growl was just as full of joy as he took off after 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

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

“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... 🐟✨

✨🐟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... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPT 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!🐟 ✨

Tuna-Tober Day 2 - Qrow Branwen

pairing: Qrow Branwen x fem!OC

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

word count: 2,500

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

tuna-tober masterlist / main masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes ma’am,” the students replied. 

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

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

“Yes sir!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tai, Qrow, get the kids to-!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But Uncle Qrow, I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not tell him yourself?”

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

“Qrow-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

this made me wanna watch RWBY again!

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

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

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

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟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