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✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: FALLING ASLEEP AT THE HOSPITAL 🐟✨

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

Day 1 - Why?

Prompt(s): 1 - Falling Asleep at the Hospital Character: Frank Castle Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader Word Count: ~600 Warning: Injury, blood, referenced canon character deaths, implied PTSD Tags: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist

Why?

Frank was sitting, your hand clasped tightly in his.

Unlike previous occasions, the chair was uncomfortable. Made of that hard molded plastic that numbed his ass within ten minutes of sitting in it. And too small for his long legs. It felt like his knees were level with his ears. But worse than the chair was that your hand wasn’t holding his back. It was limp.

Warm and limp, thankfully. The soft beep-beep of the heart monitor was reassuringly steady. The docs had said you should recover just fine. Frank hadn’t really understood what the surgeon had said but he understood the bottom line. That the bullet hadn’t done as much damage as was initially feared. You had lost a lot of blood but you’d live. Just a scar and PT to help keep your damaged shoulder as mobile as possible.

You were lucky.

It didn’t feel lucky. What would have been lucky is you not getting shot in the first place. What would have been lucky was Frank noticing that fucking bastard pointing a gun at him before you did. Once again, he swore viciously as himself for not seeing the danger until it was too late. Too late to stop you from pushing him out of the way. Always too damn late. It was his curse.

Frank blinked. Sleep was dragging at him. He had been awake for well over a day by this point. But he fought it. He knew what awaited him.

The vivid crimson blossoming across your white shirt like a gruesome flower, that soft ‘sorry’ as you lost consciousness, feeling your pulse slow under his hands . . . it would be joining the image of Maria so horribly still, her hair so black against that green-green grass . . . . the feeling of his son’s brains splattered across his chest . . . that gaping maw where his little girl’s face should have been . . .

Another pair of dead eyes staring accusingly at him, bloody lips demanding Why? Why didn’t you protect me? Why didn’t you save me from this? Why?

Why? That was the question that kept running around his brain. Why? Why did you do that? Why did you sacrifice yourself for him? Almost died for him? Why? He was a killer. A monster. A monster who hunted other monsters but still a monster. Nobody should be giving their life to save him. 

Especially not you. Not you. Not for him. Not for anyone.

He shook himself and made a silent vow. Never again. You were never taking another bullet for him. You were never going to bleed for him again. He didn’t care what he had to do to accomplish it but you were going to outlive him. 

He wasn’t burying anyone else. He refused. He’d fight God if he had to.

Just like he’d fight sleep. You had almost died. He wasn’t leaving you unguarded.

He almost ignored the notification chime on his phone. But so few people had that number, he ended up looking at the text message.

Red: Go to sleep, Frank. I’m standing watch.

He scowled. Tempted to tell him to fuck off. But practicality won out. He couldn’t stay awake forever. And he knew just how persistent Red was. Anyone coming after you would have to kill the bastard to stop him. And that was annoyingly difficult to do . . . Red was like the world’s worst cockroach. Not even a building collapsing on him could get rid of him.

Another chime. Red: Frank, sleep. Now.

“Bossy,” Frank muttered as he shifted into a - somewhat - more comfortable position in the chair, knowing full well that Red could hear him.

Red: K will be by in the morning with fresh clothes for you both. Goodnight, Frank.

He glared at the phone. Smug little . . . he made a mental note to kick his ass. Later. For now, Frank closed his eyes and tried to get some rest.

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: BEGGING🐟✨

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Begging🔥

this one is STEAMY y'all

Ship: Logan Howlett x f!Reader

Rating: 18+

Wordcount: 801

Warnings: orgasm denial, edging, begging, unprotected PiV, cigars, bruising, dom!logan/sub!reader, biting, bloodplay ish?, kind of mean!logan, dumbification

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

It was hard to breathe with how close you were. Dangling on the precipice of euphoria, sweet release nipping at your heels from where you clawed at the cliff face. Tendrils slithered around your heels and tugged. Pulling you further and further into the vast pit below.

"Logan, p-please," you whined, voice strained. Sweat dripped down your furrowed brow in thick bullets. The muscles in your thighs screamed from under your overheated skin. Despite your need for release, you inwardly cringed at how needy you sounded.

A cruel chuckle rumbled from the man beneath you. Large hands gripped at your hips, the callused fingers pressing dark bruises into your skin. His arms flexed as he dragged you back and forth along his lap. Clouds of smoke hung heavily around your head in a grey halo.

"I think you can ask nicer than that, doll," Logan sneered around the lit cigar between his teeth. His lips were pulled into a taunting grin.

He'd been edging you for close to an hour now. Dragging you towards the cliff, your nails digging into the dirt, and holding you just over the precipice. Luring you towards your release with the slick slide of your bodies, his cock hitting every ridge inside of you, before he'd pull you off of him and halt your orgasm in its ascent.

You gasped as thick fingers tugged at your hair. Strings of expletives spilled from your kiss-swollen lips, your neck straining, as Logan tugged your head back. His sharp canines left blossoms of crimson along the thin skin under your jaw.

"Ask again. Maybe I'll let you come this time," he huffed against the shell of your ear. He must have put his cigar on the nightstand as he kissed and licked at your skin with reckless abandon.

"Please, Lo. Please let me come," you begged with the sour tinge of desperation. Your swollen clit dragged along the crisp hair at the base of Logan's cock. A breathless moan kicked through your clenched teeth.

He hummed, the sound making his lips buzz against your skin. You shivered as puffs of whiskey-scented breath coasted across your damp skin. The developing bruises along your hips twinged when Logan's grip tightened, "I guess I'll let ya. Just this once."

Breathing was a thing of the past with the new, brutal pace Logan set. Deep, quick, making explosions of color burst in your vision every time he buried himself to the hilt. Shaking fingers scrabbled along his toned chest as you sought for purchase. Frantic in the way you grasped at that cliff's edge.

It wouldn't be long now. Your fingers were pried, one by one, from the edge by Logan's intensity. That deep pit of swirling pleasure beckoned with its wide mouth. Flames licked up your skin in long ribbons of fuckyesdon'tstop with every brush of his cock on your cervix. Your eyes rolled back beneath your lashes.

"Look at ya," Logan rasped, words cutting through the slew of low grunts leaving his chest with every thrust, "All fucked out. I bet there ain't a thought in that pretty head of yours."

The best you could reply with was a high moan. You were one swift push away from toppling over the edge. Just needed that last bit, that last breeze along your bare skin, before you'd plunge into the inky depths below you.

A single glance of Logan's thumb on your clit and you were gone. Mind washed in wave after wave of blessed rapture. Sending a shudder down your spine as your orgasm flooded your veins. Boiling, liquid heat pumped through your blood with every rapid beat of your heart. You convulsed. Body shaking, limbs going numb, head thrown back as your labors were finally rewarded.

"There ya go. There ya fucking go," Logan uttered like a quiet prayer. His pounding into your wet cunt continued in its ferocity as he chased his own release. Groans bit through the air, heated palms pulling you flush to his slick chest, pointed nose burying in your tangled hair.

"L-Logan," you stuttered mindlessly. Your blunt nails dug into the skin across his shoulders. Red divots scraped through dark hair, making Logan bark out a gruff moan.

"Shi-it!" he gasped, hips snapping up into yours. One last thrust and he stilled, chest heaving with every gulped breath, Logan's eyes screwed shut as his orgasm wiped every trace of dominance from his body.

The two of you were a mess of sweaty limbs and traces of both your orgasms. Logan held you to his chest like you'd disintegrate before his eyes. Face nestled in the crook of your neck, arms looped around your waist, cock softening inside your painted walls. You were as limp as a ragdoll in his embrace.

Maybe begging wasn't so bad.

hooo boy i need a cold shower

taglist: @ripleyswife

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

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"Are You Blushing?"

love me some drover :)

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

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Tuna-tober Day 11

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

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

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 1041

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?” He asked.

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

“Foggy?”

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

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

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

“Go ahead.” Your brows furrowed.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

“I'm not. But I can't stop.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You would always stay.

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: READING TO EACH OTHER🐟✨

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Day 1 - Reading to Each Other

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

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

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

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

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

“It’ll go by faster than you think,” 

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

“Yes.”

“Ha!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Message sent.” The automated voice informs.

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

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

Wait. . . what was on that mp3 player?

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

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

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

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

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

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: WATER GUN FIGHT🐟✨

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"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. 

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✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: FLOWER CROWNS🐟✨

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Tuna-tober Day 2

Here's day 2 of Tuna-tober.

Prompt: Flower Crowns

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Word Count: ~1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I made you something, Logan.”

“Oh?”

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

“Is that so?”

“Yep!”

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

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

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

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

“Does that mean you'll wear it?”

“...what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“What?”

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

“Well, if you're certain…”

“I am.” 

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

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

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

You wouldn't have it any other way. 

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: INSOMNIA 🐟✨

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

Insomnia🩸🌧️

some lore for vampire!!!

Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader🩸

Rating: 16+

Wordcount: 2.0k

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

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

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

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

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

So why did you still dream of it?

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

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

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

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

Breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mind if I join you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You could say that again."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

taglist: @ripleyswife

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✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPT FILLED: "You can sleep here tonight."🐟✨

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

Confessions

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

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

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

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

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

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

Word Count: 3,492

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Playing or watching?”

”Both.” He replies quickly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

__________________________

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

“Good morning, love.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Please tell me you have a condom?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nodding you move to spread your legs for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you pull my hair again?” 

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

“Omg, fuck that feels amazing.”

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

“You’re doing so well for me.” 

All you can do is moan in response. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

Day 5 - Water Gun Fight

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader Word Count: 646 Content: : Fluff, no use of y/n, Reader is the second year teacher at Jujutsu High, I kept using the word splash so many times so I apologize in advance, this takes place about a week after the Exchange event so sometime in September 2018 Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: And here's day 5's entry. . . 30 minutes before the day ends haha. Enjoy!!

“KUGISAKI DON’T-!”

“WE HAVE THE HIGH GROUND ITA-ITIOT!”

“no, don’t, stop, come back-”

“You’re not helping Fushiguro!”

Watching Nobara sprinting out from their hiding spot, followed closely by Yuji and Megumi, you smile to yourself, “Glad to see they’re having fun.” 

“I know; I have the best ideas, don’t I?” Gojo grins, spinning a water gun around his finger. Your smile quickly vanishes and you give him a look. “What?!” He responds.

“Uh-huh. . .” Your attention goes to the three second years, who are perfectly setting a trap to get the first years.

Gojo somehow convinced Yaga to allow them to do a water gun fight before the weather got too cold. He claimed it would help with their teamwork skills but you knew how Gojo felt about teamwork and jujutsu; it was pointless bullshit. Regardless, the kids needed a break, and what’s more fun than a water gun fight.

It was decided that this fight would be treated like a paintball fight. The first years have water that’s colored red while the second years’ water is colored blue. You set a charm on their water guns that would keep them refilled so they won’t worry about running out of water during their battle. It also saved Ichiji from having to recolor a new batch of water every time. 

You notice Toge moving his uniform away from his face, “Don’t move!” There he goes.

“SHIT!”

“Fushiguro?!”

“I got him!” Panda yells, pointing his water gun towards Fushiguro who’s stood frozen in place.

His face is contorted in anger, his movements are short and stiff. The more he tries to move the faster he’ll be able to have a full range of motion again. . . Right?

But doing that risks Yuji and Norbara getting hit too-

SPLASH!

“Panda you’re out!” Gojo calls out.

Panda groans, “It’s gonna take forever for this dye to get out of my fur!!” 

Yuji stands proudly, grinning at Megumi, “I’ve got your back Fushiguro!”

SPLUSH! SPLASH!

“Yuji! Megumi! You’re out.” You yell, leaning up against a tree. 

“Why is it sticky?” Megumi asks.

“I mixed in something a little special~” Maki teases.

“Salmon roe!” Toge adds, and Megumi makes a face.

“What is it?” Yuji asks and Megumi shakes his head, “You don’t want to know.” He mutters.

“Now where’s Kugisaki-?” Maki starts but then- SPLASH!

“Toge you’re out-“

“AH- HA!” SPLASH!!

“HA?!” Maki exclaims. You and Gojo look between each other, unable to tell who hit who first. Both are covered in purple dye and they both look like they’re gonna kill each other.

You try your best not to laugh at the two of them but a snicker does escape from your lips. Gojo is too busy laughing his ass off to give them a clear winner, which only makes them more pissed off.

“If there’s no clear winner then. . .” Megumi starts, “then you guys have to fight for us!” Yuji finishes.

“Huh?”

“I’m not doing that-“

“It would be too easy of a fight-“

“WHAT?! Maki hand me your water gun!”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you hon~” 

The blue water just floats around him as he just smiles at you. Stupid infinity.

“Water is harmless!”

“Why would I want to get wet? So you know how expensive my clothing is? Are you gonna buy me new-?”

He stills as you appear suddenly in front of him, you lightly touch his arm; he always puts his infinity down around you. . . You’re not sure why he does, but it helps you out now though.

SPLASH!

“DAMN IT!!” You cry out, drenched in red liquid.

“You didn’t think I wouldn’t take Nobara’s water gun? She threw it at me earlier when she was mad. Maaaaaan, you really don’t pay close enough attention sweetheart-“

You punch him with a black flash, throwing him halfway across the school’s campus. Damn him.