The Official Tuna-Tober Prompt Blog

[tunatober]

🌊TUNA-TOBER🌊 PROMPT CHALLENGE 2025

Hello friends! After a fun first year in 2024, we're back in 2025 for another round but slightly late cause i have the executive function of a squirrel at the moment!

So, are you looking for a prompt challenge for 2025, one that includes multiple genres? Do you long for a challenge that covers the three main prompt styles: fluff, angst, and kink? Or are you just hungry to partake in a wild buffet of ideas from various writers or artists? Whale, now you've got us!

(look, I really liked that pun last year. You could say it was such a killer whale, that I had to bring it back)

Started by the Murdock's Tuna Team discord server, the Tuna-Tober Prompt Challenge is a unique fic/art challenge, in which for every day in October, you are provided one of three prompts: a kink prompt, a fluff prompt, and a whump/angst prompt. Like many other 'Tober prompt challenges, it isn't mandatory to complete all the prompts. You're free to choose as you please! Do one! Do ten! Do one a day! Do them all! Mix and swap as needed! The Tuna-Tober Prompt Challenge is meant to stir your creativity, not fill you with stress. There also is no fandom or character requirement, so chase that muse where She leads you. In addition to our three prompts for each day of October, there are also four sets of backup prompts, just in case you hit a day where you just ain't feeling the three that were provided.

This blog isn't just for the rules, however. It'll also be reblogging any Tuna-Tober fics or art that our lovely team of writers and artists complete so we can keep them all in one place! If you'd like to read those fics, all you have to do is give us a follow. And if you really don't want to miss anything, feel free to set us for notifications!

If you're taking part in Tuna-Tober, either as a writer or an artist, please remember to tag your fic or art: Tuna-Tober 2025. That way I can find your fics or art to reblog. If you only post on AO3, you can also make a post here on tumblr linking to it (remember to tag it), and I can reblog that. You are also free to make use of these prompts at any time if you so desire, even when it's no longer October! ❤️

Without further ado, our prompts!

Day 1: Hair Washing ⚜ “Please don’t leave me alone.” ⚜ Rope Bondage

Day 2: "As you wish." ⚜ Wrong Number ⚜ Coming Too Soon

Day 3: Kissing Old Scars ⚜ Therapy ⚜ Messy Sex

Day 4: Sharing a blanket ⚜ "Doesn't that hurt?" ⚜ Up Against A Window

Day 5: "I'll walk you home." ⚜ Funerals ⚜ "Did you really think I was done with you?"

Day 6: Masquerade ⚜ "I can't remember their face." ⚜ Under The Desk”

Day 7: Soldier/Royal ⚜ Broken Heart ⚜ Scent Kink

Day 8: Breathless Kiss ⚜ Hallucinations ⚜ Sex Pollen

Day 9: Magic Gone Right ⚜ Missed Call ⚜ "You're mine."

Day 10: "Why are you shutting me out?" ⚜ Coughing Up Blood ⚜ "Who knew you were this sensitive?"

Day 11: Wedding Bells ⚜ Anxiety ⚜ Brat Taming

Day 12: Playful Kiss ⚜ "How much have you had to drink tonight?" ⚜ Sleepy Morning Sex

Day 13: "Is that a dragon?" ⚜ Bandaging Wounds ⚜ Nipple Play

Day 14: Domestic Bliss ⚜ What If I'm The Monster? ⚜ Gags

Day 15: A Kiss On The Shoulder ⚜ Faultline ⚜ "You didn’t say please."

Day 16: Rough Day At Work ⚜ "I'm right here." ⚜ Stress Relief

Day 17: "I think we missed our stop." ⚜ Mind Control ⚜ Cross Dressing

Day 18: Coffee Shop ⚜ "Don't you dare close your eyes!" ⚜ Spit Kink

Day 19: "You owe me a kiss." ⚜ Lies ⚜ Secret Identity

Day 20: And They Were Neighbors ⚜ Heatstroke ⚜ Cockwarming

Day 21: Cooking Together ⚜ "Are you really going out right now?" ⚜ Wax Play

Day 22: "Why'd you stop?" ⚜ Frostbite ⚜ Strap-On/Pegging

Day 23: Jumping Into Leaves ⚜ "Let me help you." ⚜ Threesome

Day 24: "I trust you." ⚜ Guilty As Sin ⚜ "You taste so sweet."

Day 25: A Warm Kiss ⚜ "You still don't get it, do you?" ⚜ Edging

Day 26: Falling Asleep On Their Shoulder ⚜ Toxin ⚜ "You want to be good for me, don't you?"

Day 27: Nuzzling Their Neck ⚜ Miscommunication ⚜ Tentacles

Day 28: Road Trip ⚜ Sacrifice ⚜ Collars

Day 29: Dancing In The Rain ⚜ Panic Attack ⚜ "First one to moan loses."

Day 30: Lost In A Corn Maze ⚜ "I can't lose you." ⚜ Biting

Day 31: Costume Party ⚜ Haunted ⚜ Roleplay

🌊Tuna-Tober🌊 Backup Prompts:

"I think I might be in love with you." ⚜ Bleeding Out ⚜ Temperature Play

Jack-O-Lanterns ⚜ "Don't do this to me." ⚜ Panty Stealing

"You took my pillow, so I'm using you instead." ⚜ Depression ⚜ Dubcon

Pet shenanigans ⚜ "Please wake up." ⚜ Oral Fixation

[i-wish-the-doctor-were-real]

Tuna Tober Day 21: "Melting With You"

Prompt: Day 20: Heatstroke Word Count: 1,094 Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers Summary: It's a hot summer day in Brooklyn and the power goes out. Bucky comes home from a long day at the docks. Warnings: distress, heatstroke, mention of delirium and being disoriented, Steve cares for Bucky, banter, flirting Disclaimer: If you're genuinely experiencing heat stroke please get medical help. it is very serious. This story is fiction. Love, Someone who grew up and still lives in the southwest where 100 degrees or hotter is the norm for long stretches.

Day 20: "Melting with You"

It was a hot summer day in Brooklyn. Steve was at home sketching when the AC suddenly cut out. "Fuck." Apparently it was one of those days where it's so hot the power had gone out, the city grid unable to handle the strain. Unfortunately, it was late afternoon so the apartment heated up quickly.

Twenty minutes in and Steve had already taken his shirt off leaving a white tank top underneath and a pair of loose shorts that reached the middle of his muscular thighs. Steve opened the windows doing his best to alleviate some of the heat, but to little avail. He let out a deep sigh. "Well I tried." He poured himself a glass of water and sat back down at their small dining table to continue sketching. He'd done what he could for now. Steve sketched for another half hour wiping sweat from his brow as he drew.

He glanced at his watch swearing in realization. Bucky was supposed to be home in a few minutes, but the power still wasn't back on.

Steve stood up and walked to the kitchen to pour a glass of water. He heard a key turn in the lock as he set the glass on the table. Perfect timing. He'd expected Bucky home from the docks soon. The door swung open and Bucky stumbled in.

"Hey sweetheart" Steve greeted Bucky cheerily although sweaty.

Bucky paused and then huffed out a soft greeting. "Heya Steve. It's hot in here. The whole city is suffocating."

"The power went out. Hopefully it'll be back on soon. How was your day?"

"Hot." Bucky replied curtly.

Steve frowned, but said nothing in response.

"I'm sorry darlin'. Long, hot day is all." Bucky stepped towards Steve, but swayed mid stride. Steve reached out to steady him.

"I've gotcha. You alright? You're not looking so good bud."

"Well it was a long day and the heat was swealter-sweatler-. It was hot as hell" Bucky retorted delirious, his words beginning to slur.

Steve jumped into action. "Come with me" he directed Bucky. Steve guided Bucky to the bathroom and instructed him to sit on the toilet lid turning the bathtub faucet on. Thankfully there was some cold water left in the pipes.

"We should get you out of those clothes."

Bucky shot Steve a smirk.

"Not now. This is serious Buck. We've got to bring down your body temperature."

Steve helped Bucky out of his clothes and he obliged. Steve guided Bucky into the tub. He sighed as he slid into the cool water.

"Stay right there. I'll be back."

"Where else am I going to go?"

Steve rolled his eyes as he left the room. Bucky already seemed to be doing a little better. He grabbed some washcloths from the linen closet, half melted ice cubes from the freezer, and the glass of water from the table.

"Drink" he instructed Bucky.

"Yes sir" Bucky replied with a tired, cheeky smile. He drank the water as Steve dumped the tired ice cubes in the tub. Then Steve dipped the washcloths in the tub and rang them out placing one on Bucky's head and on the back of his neck.

"Hopefully that'll cool you down a bit."

"I'm already feeling better I swear."

"You really scared me" Steve admitted quietly.

"I'm sorry." He softly kissed Steve's hand resting on the edge of the tub.

"It's okay Buck" Steve reassured placing a feather light kiss on his bare shoulder.

They sat together in comfortable silence for awhile. Bucky regained some of his strength and complained to Steve about his day at work. Steve listened thoughtfully letting him vent. When he was done Steve explained how the shading on the buildings of his current sketch were evading him.

Bucky stood up to leave the tub. Steve immediately rushed to stand up to help him his hands hovering.

"I'm fine Stevie. You don't have to mother me so much." Bucky insisted halfheartedly.

"Oh hush. I'm always going to want to take care of you, make sure you're okay. You know that. You're my Bucky." Steve explained fondly

"I know. You have such a big heart. Sometimes too big I think, but I love that about you. Thank you" Bucky replied with a tired sigh.

"I'm here for you always." Steve assured as he wrapped Bucky in a clean towel helping him out of the bathroom.

Bucky seemed steady so Steve stepped back allowing him to enter their room first and grab some clothes from their dresser.

"Here you go." Steve handed him a bright yellow little portable fan.

Bucky accepted it gratefully with a chuckle. It was the brightest, harshest shade of yellow, but he wasn't about to turn down a working fan. He sat down on their bed in his boxers and Steve followed suit. The couple of times he tried to direct the cool air towards Steve he pushed his arm away.

"You need it more than I do right now."

"You're one to talk. Steve you're soaked through with sweat."

Steve stripped down to his boxers. It definitely wasn't anything Bucky hadn't seen before he thought with with a chuckle.

Bucky let out a soft whistle as Steve bent down to remove his shorts and he teasingly tapped him on his calf in reply before standing back up.

"Punk"

"Jerk" Steve fondly retorted. "There will time for that later don't you worry, but it's too damn hot to do anything right now." Steve murmured placing a soft kiss on Bucky's temple.

"You're too damn hot" he teased. "Ugh, but you're right. I want to I really do, but I'm so tired and I'm finally feeling better. Don't need you getting me all hot and bothered." he finished with a crooked smile.

Steve sat back down beside Bucky, the small electric fan providing the smallest amount of reprieve.

"Thank you Steve."

"I've always got you Buck." Steve threw one arm over Bucky's shoulders drawing him close into an embrace filled with everything he felt for Bucky and the emotions he struggled to vocalize sometimes, but Bucky understood. He always did. Bucky tilted his head to rest in the crook of Steve's neck. He took a deep breath in -grateful for his life, for Steve, for it all- and as he let the breath out in a sigh of contentment the ceiling fan above them began to rotate while a unit began to hum back to life.

They had made it through oppressive NYC heatwaves before and they would again how they always did, together.

[tunatober]

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Heatstroke 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

[shiorimakibawrites]

Day 21: "Cooking"

Prompt - Day 21: Cooking Together + 14: Domestic Bliss 🌹 Word Count: ~790 Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader Summary: You and Matt like to cook. Warning: Tooth-rotting fluff, food, established relationship Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza, @justvalkyrie, @xoxabs88xox, @flynnethenerd, @loveroftoomanyfandoms, @shouldbestudying41, @silversword7000 Tuna-Tober 2025 Masterlist

A bit of fluff for Matt's birthday. Happy Birthday, Devil Man

Day 21: Cooking

Due to your busy schedules, neither you or Matt had time to cook during the week. Yet eating takeout all the time was far too expensive. So you both agreed to spend part of your days off cooking for the upcoming week.

In the process, you both discovered a love of cooking. One cookbook became two, then three. Soon you had an entire shelf in the bookcase devoted to cookbooks. You had long ago lost track of how many recipes you had bookmarked. And that was just your computer and phone. Matt had amassed his own collection. There was a certain amount of overlap as you sent each other recipes that you'd like to try all the time.

Not all of them had been winners nor did you always manage to make them correctly. You still giggled about your and Matt's first attempts to use the Bundt cake pan. Nor was Matt likely to forget what had been dubbed the Pepper Incident. But you learned from those and countless other mistakes. You improved.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Matt had talent for finding the perfect blend of herbs and spices to make the food really sing. To the point that you and your friends teased him that he ought to give up law to become a chef. Matt had pretended to be outraged by the suggestion — 'I take that to mean you are volunteering to do that deposition on Monday? Have fun with Winthrop & Burke….'Hey, now, buddy, let's not get hasty…' — but you knew from that little smile that he was secretly pleased.

It warmed your heart knowing that Matt looked forward to his meals now. Food was no longer just fuel, something to be shoveled down as quickly as possible. It was something to be enjoyed. To be savored whenever possible. It wasn't always. Super-villains and other various never-do-wells, rather rudely in your opinion, didn't wait for him to finish dinner before starting problems in the Kitchen.

Even better, he was more inclined to re-heat and finish the meal after he got home these days than just go to bed still hungry. Which pleased Claire greatly. She had accepted that Matt getting enough sleep was unlikely to happen but enough calories to support Daredeviling? Drinking enough water that his kidneys didn't rage-quit in protest? Those were achievable goals.

After seeing fresh ears of corn at the market co-op this morning, you decided to make enchiladas and elote for dinner. It had been a while you had last had them and you missed the taste of home. Granted, the recipe you were using wasn't the most traditional but you liked it. And Matt liked it. And since you were the ones eating it, you figured that mattered more than keeping tradition.

Matt had no problem with making a quick detour to the Mexican bakery for corn tortillas. Then it was back home so you could start the enchilada sauce. Dinner might be hours away but you wanted to give the flavors time to get to know each other. Plus it wasn't the original point of this activity — stocking your freezer with meals for the next week — had gone away.

So after Matt mixed up the dressing for the elote and stowed away in the fridge, he turned his attention to that task. It was little distracting, watching Matt chop and slice vegetables. Mostly because his hands were always distracting to you in some fashion. Maybe it was the network of little scars from his knuckles being split, the marks of the Devil that resided within that you made a point kissing regularly to make sure that Matt never forgot that you loved all of him. Maybe it was the knowledge just how talented he was with those long, thick fingers. Maybe it was just your competence kink coming out after seeing him slice a tomato nearly as thin as a mandolin.

Maybe it was all of those things.

Once you got the chicken marinating, you began doing your share of the prepared meal work. By now, you and Matt worked like a well-oiled machine in the kitchen. You no longer jostled each other's elbows or backed into one another while carrying things or dozens of other mishaps as you both learned how to cook.

There were still a few challenges. Like not eating all of the roasted garlic like potato chips. Or getting even more distracted from caramelizing onions by Matt kneading bread dough.

"You're gonna burn the onions, sweetheart," Matt said in a sing-song voice, a smirk playing on his lips. He knew darn well how beautiful he looked in that tight black tee, his powerful arms flexing as his hands worked the dough.

"Am not!" you protested and tried to keep your mind on the onions.

You failed.

Elote - Mexican street corn, grilled or boiled corn on the cob dressed with crema (similar to sour cream) and cheese among other things mixture.

Enchilada - corn tortillas rolled around a filling and served with a savory sauce.

[tunatober]

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Cooking Together + Domestic Bliss 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

[shiorimakibawrites]

Day 20: "Between Hope and Fear"

Prompt: Alter: Bleeding Out + Alter: "Don't do this to me." 🌧 Word Count: ~530 Pairing: Daredevil x Wife! Reader Summary: This shouldn't be happening. Warning: Injuries, blood, fear of death Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza, @justvalkyrie, @xoxabs88xox, @flynnethenerd, @loveroftoomanyfandoms, @shouldbestudying41, @silversword7000 Tuna-Tober 2025 Masterlist

Day 20: Between Hope and Fear

Please…

This wasn't the first time you had applied pressure to Matt's wounds, desperately praying that help arrived in time as you watched the precious, precious red spread under your hands. It was the price you paid for falling in love with a man who could not ignore the suffering he heard.

But that was at night, when he donned his red suit and went out to put the fear of the Devil into those who would prey on the innocent. That was the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

This was Matt Murdock, attorney at law. This was broad daylight, a brown business suit with the navy blue tie you had gotten him returning to the office after lunch. Taking a little slice of time together in an otherwise busy week.

He should have been safe.

He shouldn't have been rushed by some man you had never seen before. He shouldn't have had to shove you out of the path. He shouldn't have been stabbed several times before two pedestrians could tackle his attacker to the ground. You shouldn't be kneeling by your husband, crying and begging, "Don't do this to me."

Matt tried to say something but he couldn't get out a word.

You knew that was bad. Really bad. "Matt, please!"

Suddenly there was another pair of hands on Matt. Familiar hands with an equally familiar voice giving orders…Claire…where…Nevermind, not important. What was important was doing what she said. You focused on that. Hold this. Kept pressure here. Until another set of hands, the hands of the paramedics took over.

The knife had nicked his spleen. The organ was a bleeder, if you were understanding the doctor's hurried explanation as they prepped for surgery. You weren't entirely sure you did. Nothing felt real. Like it was someone else that was signing those permission forms. Another person being ushered to the OR waiting room.

You should call Foggy. He needed to know. Your hand felt numb, fingers clumsy as you pulled out the phone and pulled up your contacts. Ring. Ri-

"What's up?"

"F-Foggy."

You still felt like your mind had been replaced with thick cotton when the others arrived. Foggy. Karen. Sister Maggie. The police. All with questions that you answered through the static in your ears.

What happened?

He got stabbed.

Who did this?

I don't know.

Is he gonna be okay…

Maybe.

Claire drifted in at some point. She was cautiously optimistic — he got quick aid at the scene. Paramedics arrived quickly (it didn't feel quick). The surgical team was skilled, experienced. His chances were very good.

You clung to every word, torn between wanting the hope and fearing it. The others felt the same. You could sense it in the tight grip of Karen and Foggy's hands, the tremble in Maggie's voice as she prayed. Sometimes you joined her. Sometimes you couldn't speak past the lump in your throat as the words 'what if' stalked across your mind like a song stuck on repeat.

It had probably only been a few hours — at most — but it felt days. But at long last, the surgeon who had whisked Matt away came back through the door.

She was smiling.

[tunatober]

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Bleeding Out + "Don't do this to 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!🐟 ✨

[shiorimakibawrites]

Day 19: "Risky Behavior"

Prompt: Day 19: Secret Identity 🔥 Word Count: ~580 Pairing: Daredevil x Vigilante! Reader Summary: It wasn't something you normally did — getting fucked against a brick wall in an alley. Warning: Explicit Sexual Activity, Rough Sex, P in V, Biting, Kissing, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Voyeurism Fantasy, Secret Identity Hijinks Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza, @justvalkyrie, @xoxabs88xox, @flynnethenerd, @loveroftoomanyfandoms, @shouldbestudying41, @silversword7000 Tuna-Tober 2025 Masterlist

Day 19: Risky Behavior

He's so fuckin' thick.

You bite down on his clothed shoulder to muffle the cries that wanted to rend the night air as he bottomed out inside you again. It felt so damn good. How he filled you so completely. How he fucked you with a steady, brutal pace that left you burning. How it was hard enough that you'd be feeling it later, a delicious ache to remember him by. How the press of his thumb against your clit had your hands digging his back. How all of it seemed tailor-made to drive you crazy, to send you racing toward to cliff's edge.

The Man in the Mask had more self control than you did, keeping his grunts and moans barely audible. Not the obscene squelch sound of his cock filling you would leave any doubts what you were doing.

It wasn't something you normally did — getting fucked against a brick wall in an alley. Let alone by a man whose name and face you didn't know.

In fairness, he didn't know what you looked or real name either.

And the Man in the Mask was hot. You had needs. Needs that, yes, you could have taken care of once you got back home. If you had, it wouldn't have been the first or even the tenth time you had touched yourself to the thoughts of his lean, muscular body.

But tonight, you didn't want your vibrator. You wanted his cock buried inside you. You didn't want to imagine grabbing his ass. You wanted it in your hands, squeezing and kneading like it was dough. You didn't want to imagine those rough, powerful hands fondling your breasts, fingering your cunt. You wanted feel to it.

And when he admitted that he wanted to fuck you, you didn't want to wait any longer.

So here you were — up against the wall with your shirt unzipped to your navel, pants and underwear around one ankle while your bare leg was hooked around his waist. There was a certain thrill to the knowledge that, any minute now, someone could walk by and see you. That they might watch the Dark Angel gasp as the Devil of Hell's Kitchen suddenly thrust up sharply, burying himself so deep that you'd swear that you could taste him. That they would see all your power and prowess reduced to begging pleas when he rocked his hips, grinding his cock against that spot that made you see stars.

Your thighs were shaking. Your knees threatened to buckle as you dangled over that edge, seconds away from free fall…

"Come for me, pretty girl," the Man growled into your ear, his voice even deeper and raspy than you had ever heard it. The Devil's normal voice was already enough to make you wet. This? This had you clenching around him. "Come on my cock."

Then his mouth smashed against yours, aggressively invading your mouth with his tongue. You could taste the faint tang of yourself from when he sucked your slick off of his fingers. And that turned out to be the tipping point. You arched your back and obeyed his command. Screaming into his mouth as you drowned in wave after wave of pleasure. His thumb never stopped working your clit, drawing out your orgasm until you collapsed back against the wall. Gasping for your breath, only his hold was keeping your body upright.

Burying his face against your neck, he rapidly pumped into you until with a muffled groan, he came.

[tunatober]

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Secret Identity 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

[shiorimakibawrites]

Day 16: "Stress Relief"

Prompt: Day 16: Rough Day at Work || Day 16: "I'm right here." || Day 16: Stress Relief 🌧 🌹 🔥 Word Count: ~1400 Pairing: Daredevil x Wife! Reader Summary: Matt had a bad day at work. Warning: Ableism, Swear Words, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Activity, Rough Sex, Breast Play, Kissing, Marking Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza, @justvalkyrie, @xoxabs88xox, @flynnethenerd, @loveroftoomanyfandoms, @shouldbestudying41, @silversword7000 Tuna-Tober 2025 Masterlist

It took longer than I expected but better late than never. Enjoy.

Day 16: Stress Relief

The district attorney was a pain in his ass. He often was. In the world according to Jim Jackson, defense attorneys were the enemy and ought to be treated as such. Furthermore, he made it very clear with every condescending word that he considered Matt to be inferior. Because Matt was blind. Oh Jackson was smart enough not to say so explicitly but Matt knew.

It was obvious in how much he complained about having to accommodate Matt's disability. Or anyone else's — he was equally dismissive of Matt's client's claim not to have heard the cops orders despite Mr. Barton's documented hearing loss.

Jackson's secretary was nicer but the pity in her voice had grated on Matt's already frayed nerves. By the time they were locking up the office, Matt felt the telltale pressure that usually preceded a migraine.

The mouth-watering aroma of tomato, garlic, herbs, cheese along with the fainter odor of flour and eggs told him that you had made either stuffed manicotti or giant shells. The spinach and maybe bacon was a little odd but he trusted there was a reason for it. Your familiar heartbeat and soft humming as you prepared the garlic bread for the oven was immediately soothing. The combination lured him straight to the kitchen.

"Hi honey," you greeted him, turning away from the counter to throw your arms around him. The welcome-home hug was technically nothing new — you had been doing it since the day you moved in — but it still touched him. The affection and love you offered him as easily as you breathed. He sighed as he buried his face against your neck and leaned a little more of his weight onto you.

Something you didn't mind at all. Just slide your hand up to his neck. It doesn't take your clever fingers long to find where tension had built up and began rubbing circles, applying just the right amount of pressure to release it.

"Rough day?" you asked, voice soft and low.

"Hmmm," he replied. "Jackson."

No further words were necessary. You had had the displeasure of meeting Jackson. "What do you need?"

"Just this," Matt said, then groaned as your fingers worked their way higher. It felt so good. "Just you."

"Okay."

Such easy acceptance. He really didn't deserve you.

When Matt left for his patrol, he was feeling so much better. His threatened headache had been banished by your magic fingers. The meal you made had tasted even better than it smelled. He had moaned at the first bite, discovering that the manicotti had been stuffed with a mixture of spinach, pancetta, and mozzarella cheese. You had giggled and asked if he wanted this recipe added to the rotation. Absolutely. He was already looking forward to showing it off to Karen and Foggy at the office tomorrow.

His good mood was rapidly challenged by the streets. It felt like everyone was suffering from the delusion that the Devil of Hell's Kitchen was taking the night off and they were therefore free to wreak havoc. If so, Matt quickly disabused them of this notion. None of his opponents were particularly challenging but they did prevent him from following up on a lead on the human trafficking ring that he had been breaking up.

Whatever remained of his good mood disintegrated when he found his lead. The man wouldn't be answering any questions. He was dead, laying in a pool of blood with the acrid odor spent gunpowder lingering in the air. Two others had met the same fate. And with that, Matt was back to square one on dismantling this poison attacking his city. To finding the victims before they disappeared forever…

He screamed.

You watched Matt removing his suit, frowning. His movements were oddly stiff, abrupt. Like he was fighting the urge to throw his gloves across the room. All the tension you had worked out of his neck had returned tenfold and now included his shoulders. Another clue that something was wrong was the way he barely acknowledged your presence.

Just a flash of a strained smile as you padded out of the bedroom.

He didn't look hurt. Or at least no more hurt than usual. There were some new bruises scattered across his torso but only a few.

"What's wrong?" You asked.

"Nothing."

"Lie."

Not even the amused twitch of lips that usually accompanied you mimicking his mannerism. "Matt…"

"Just a bad night," he said.

That could cover a lot of ground but when Matt was this terse, getting a story out of him was like pulling teeth. But you had to make the offer, "If you need to talk…"

"No." He shook his head. "Thank you sweetheart but I don't want talk about it."

"Okay," you said and allowed him to finish dressing for bed.

You returned to the bedroom together. Laid down with Matt as the big spoon but if Matt's goal was sleep, he wasn't having much luck in that regard. His body remained tense, his fingers restlessly tracing across your stomach before he'd realize what he was doing and stop. Before starting up again a few minutes later.

This couldn't go on. Normally Matt worked out such anger and stress on the streets. Tonight that had obviously failed. But there was another way to relieve his stress.

You shifted, reaching for the bedside lamp. Matt's arm around your waist stiffened, then relaxed his grip. You hit the switch, filling the room with soft, warm light. You turned to face your husband. As you expected, his brow was furrowed into deep ridges and his jaw tight.

"Sorry sweetheart," he muttered. "Didn't mean to keep you awake."

"It's okay," you said. "Can't sleep?"

He was silent for a moment then he sighed and admitted. "Yes."

"Do you want me to help you relax?"

Your tone left little mystery as to what you meant but he shook his head. "You don't have to—"

"I want to," you interrupted. Trailing your fingers down his chest between your bodies to his cock. Even through his sweatpants, you could tell that while it wasn't fully hard but it was certainly interested. "Let me help you."

"Sweetheart…"

"I'm right here," you said. "Use me."

"Sweetheart…"

"Use me," you repeated. "Pin me down. Fuck me hard. Whatever you want."

Matt was tempted. You could see it in dark hunger shining in his eyes. A hunger that you shared. You loved how Matt made love to you, the way he could make you sob with pleasure but you also loved it when your Devil had come out to play. The memory of the last time he had let the Devil out sent blood racing south.

His nostrils flared. He had to be aware of your body's growing excitement, the wet heat between your legs.

"You sure?"

You smiled in triumphant. "I'm sure. Green fucking light, Matt."

His mouth smashed against yours, pouring pure passion and lust with his lips, tongue and teeth as he rolled you onto your back. You moaned his mouth as his body settled on top of you. You could feel his hardening cock rutting against your clothed cunt. And moaned even louder when his hand wrapped around one wrist, then the other and pinned them above your head.

Pinned by his heavy, muscular body, you could only squirm as Matt abandoned your mouth in favor of your neck. Sucking and nipping at the skin from just under your jaw down to your collarbone. Each mark a claim, a declaration to the whole world that you were his. His free hand tugged at your shirt, pulling it up to expose your breasts.

"Mine," He growled, his voice low and rough before placing another mark at the swell of your breast. You gasped, arching your back as his teeth scrapped across your nipple, lightly biting. Once, twice, before he latched on and sucked hard. You cried out, feeling your cunt clenching around nothing.

After giving your other breast the same treatment, he released your wrists. He lifted himself off your body. You whined at the loss of his warmth, his body against your body. He smirked at the sound.

"Take off your pants," he ordered, his hands pushing down his sweatpants.

You were quick to obey, watching with eager eyes as his cock was revealed. Your cunt throbbed with anticipation of him fucking you with it. Something that did not escape your Devil's attention. His smirk grew.

"Turn around," he ordered. "Get on all fours."

[tunatober]

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Rough Day At Work + "I'm right here." + Stress Relief🐟✨

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

[i-wish-the-doctor-were-real]

Tuna Tober Day 17: "Sweet Sublime"

Prompt: Day 15: "Say Please" Pairing: Kara Danvers x Lena Luthor Word Count: 614 Summary: Kara is thirsty. Lena is too, but she'll have ot ask nicely Warnings: smut, fingering, all smut, consensual power play

Day 17: Sweet Sublime

"Where do you think you're going Ms. Danvers?"

"I was just going to grab something from the kitchen to drink" Kara explained.

"What if you stayed right here instead?" Lena suggested, her hands moving to Kara's hips gently holding her in place."

"But I'm thirsty" Kara countered obliviously.

"I am too" she replied with a mischievious glint in her eye drawing Kara closer to her.

"Oh.." Kara replied flustered smiling softly. She paused before reaching for Lena closing the remaining distance between their bodies by drawing her close to her. "I wouldn't mind waiting to grab that lemonade. I'd much rather stay here with you."

"You're the sweetest Kara. I care about you so much" Lena whispered leaning in to kiss Kara.

Kara deepened the kiss moving her hands to Lena's back pressing her closer to her.

Lena's hands explored Kara's body ghosting over her muscular shoulders and arms before resting at her waist. Lena melted into the kiss, nipping briefly at Kara's lip drawing a moan from the other woman.

Kara leaned into Lena gently pushing her down onto the couch. Lena happily obliged moving her legs together as Kara settled onto the couch above Lena straddling her. Kara buried her hands into Lena's raven locks tugging slightly. Lena moaned into Kara's mouth her hips hitching up to meet empty space.

Kara noticed because she noticed everything, especially when it came ot Lena. She snaked her hand down between the two of them pulling at the hem of Lena's skirt.

"No need to be shy darling. I want you."

"And what if I want to make you wait for it? What if I want to make you beg for it?" Kara devilshly retorted while moving to pin Lena's hands over her head against the wall.

"What if I ask nicely? What then?"

"Maybe. Quite possibly. I could be persuaded" Kara admitted. One of her hands settled between Lena's legs gently circling her core over her skirt that had gathered on Lena's hips. Kara pushed Lena's skirt up further as Lena lifted her hips to assist understanding what Kara was teasing at. Her tights were the only fabric covering Lena now Kara's fingers dancing up to her hem suggestively.

"Come on Kara"

"I'm going to need to hear you say it."

"I need you now. Please" Lena pleaded.

"That's it gorgeous. Say it. Louder. Say please." Kara requested as her hand dipped below Lena's tights finally meeting her skin with her hand, fingers teasing at her entrance, a thumb lazily circling her clit.

Lena's head tipped back as a moan slipped out. "Please. Please don't stop. Don't stop. It feels so good."

"I wouldn't dream of it. You're so good, so good for me" Kara murmured as she slipped a finger into Lena's warmth, her thumb circling Lena's clit methodically. Lena's hips hitched up searching for more, wanting more.

"More Kara. I need more."

"More what?"

"More please."

Kara slipped another finger into Lena pulsing in and out of her in reply. Kara knew exactly how to unravel Lena. She added a third finger, pushing into Lena the pace becoming more relentless as Lena's hips moved in motion with Kara's hand.

"I don't know how much longer I can last" Lena breathed out in between moans.

Kara sped up her pace even more while her thumb relentlessly circled Lena's clit. "You don't have to. Let go darling. I've got you."

And with her last word Lena did, her hips stuttering as her orgasm ripped through her.

"That's it, that's my girl" Kara keened, working Lena through it, barely slowing her pace, drawing more moans from Lena's lips.

Lena smiled looking up at Kara. "That was incredible. You're incredible."

[tunatober]

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "Say please." 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

[shiorimakibawrites]

Tuna-Tober Day 14 - "Coffee Date"

Prompt - Day 18: Coffee Shop🌹 Word Count: ~830 Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader Summary: You are finally back in New York. Sequel to Day 9 "Mine" and Day 12: "One Last Time" Warning: Fluff, anxieties, referenced sexual activity (p in v sex, phone sex) Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza, @justvalkyrie, @xoxabs88xox, @flynnethenerd, @loveroftoomanyfandoms, @shouldbestudying41, @silversword7000 Tuna-Tober 2025 Masterlist

Day 14: Coffee Date

Wrapping everything up in California had taken longer than you expected. When you boarded the plan, you had been hoping to return to New York in a couple weeks…Hopes that were dashed when it was discovered that a needed inspection for the sale of your house was invalidated after the inspector had got hit with bribery and fraud charges. Not related to your house but it still meant that you needed to schedule another inspection and get it approved by the banks and…

By the time every i had been dotted and t had been crossed, it had been one month, three weeks, and five days since you last saw Matt.

Not that you were counting. Or mourning the loss of the pleasant ache he had left between your legs.

The phone calls helped. Despite the three hour time difference, you talked almost every day. Mostly about work — both yours and his. You were happy to learn that Matt and Foggy had achieved their dream of their own firm in the form of Nelson, Murdock, & Page. You hadn't gotten the chance to meet Karen — she hadn't been able to come to the wedding — but she sounded intelligent, hardworking, and a perfect addition to their firm…Your own work was significantly less enjoyable. There was more than one reason you were looking forward to being back home.

Your curiosity about Matt's scars remained unsatisfied. Matt hadn't refused to answer your questions, exactly, just said he couldn't tell you over the phone. Which made you even more curious about them. Usually the only thing Matt was this cagey about was his senses. Which was fair even how people sometimes reacted to the enhanced. The only reason you even knew about Matt being enhanced was because you saw him leaping from roof to roof one night on campus.

You don't know who had been more shocked — you or Matt.

You had a theory about it but you could be wrong. If there was one thing Matt was good at, it was surprising you.

A few of the phone calls had gotten spicy, you remembered with a flush. Your own fingers didn't fill you as well as Matt's fingers and especially not as well as his cock…but having his deep voice rumble filthy promises in your ear made up for a lot. So was knowing that he was touching himself in response to your voice…

Still you were glad that everything had been taken care of now. You had successfully arrived in your new home, a lovely little apartment in Chelsea. Well…it would be lovely once it wasn't a maze of boxes. Something you'd work on later. Right now you were about to head off to the cafe that Matt had recommended for your long awaited coffee date.

Now that it was finally here…you were feeling nervous. You knew the rest of your clothes were somewhere in this apartment but so far all you had found were your summer clothes. Nowhere near warm enough for March. You ended up having to settle for a clean pair of leggings and a comfy sweater. And reminded yourself that Matt wasn't all that concerned with appearances.

Still, you wanted this date to go well. You knew that you and Matt were still sexually compatible. Obviously. You could barely keep your hands off each other long enough for your bestie and Theo to get married. But there was a lot more to a relationship than sex. Your phone calls had gone well and those moments at the wedding where you hadn't been fucking had been lovely…but still you couldn't quite silence that little voice that worried that you had spent too much time apart, that you were too different now…

That, even though you might still be in love with Matt, that love wouldn't be enough…

Calm down, you ordered yourself. This is just coffee. Worry about forever another day.

Your heart was pounding like a drum when you entered the cafe. Matt was waiting for you, dressed in jeans and his own comfy sweater. You wondered if it was the same sweater from the hotel — it looked like what you had dug your nails into while he fucked against the wall…you shook your head, pushing down that memory. Now wasn't the time. Now it was time for coffee and talking.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Matt greeted you. "Hope you don't mind me ordering for you."

"Not at all," you said, settling into your seat. You picked up your coffee and felt your heart leap. From the rich aroma and appearance, it was your preferred order. Your current one, similar but not quite the same as your favorite in college…a detail that you had only mentioned once during a call a month ago…

"You remembered?"

"I did." Matt's smile was almost shy. Hopeful. "Welcome home."

And, just like that, you felt your nerves settle. You reached across the table to place your hand over his. "It's good to be back."

[tunatober]

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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Coffee Shop 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

[mars-242322]

Tuna-Tober Day Twelve!

Day 12: Playfull kiss, "How much have you had to drink tonight?"

WARNINGS: talk of intoxication, Reader is drunk, ooc Eddie, sickeningly sweet (I couldn't help myself), bad editing and grammar as always

Word count: 617

A/n: I need to preface this with the fact that I know extremely little about Stranger Things. I’ve never watched the show, and I only have a rough idea of the story/plotline. My sister’s hyperfixation rubbed off on me slightly, and it’s manifested into Eddie joining my gaggle of blorbos. So if his character is written horrifically inaccurately, I’m very sorry ;-; (but also not really because he’s silly, and I’ll make him as silly as I want in my corner of the internet.)

The concert was finally fizzling out. The ringing buzz of the instruments is being replaced with laughter and screams from the other concertgoers around you. The night truly slowing down as you wave your friends goodbye. Their tires crunching against the ground cues you to turn and head back to the stage to find your own ride home.

The clicking of instrument cases and winding cords welcomed you at the edge of the stage. Just barely getting your arms over the edge and pinching Eddie’s black handkerchief between your fingers. Tugging it out and immediately giggling when Eddie turns to you. His surprised and pissed expression falls away as the corner of his lips raises into his usual shit-eating grin. Abandoning his gear for the moment and turning to lean on the edge of the stage.

“There’s my muse.” He cooed, cool fingers tracing over your flushed cheeks as he cups your face. “My one and only.” His head dipped as he pressed quick and messy kisses over your face. Starting with one on your nose before circling to the corner of your lips. “The holder of my heart.” The last mumbled title rewards you with an actual kiss. Struggling to keep the connection between bursts of giggles and poor drunken coordination. Eddie hummed, keeping his face level with yours and studying you. “Is that lemonade I taste?”

You nod, bouncing on your toes a few times to capture more kisses from him. “We had pink lemonade and vodka shots,” you confirm, reaching and looping your fingers into his belt loops. His weight giving you something to anchor to as your limbs grow heavier.

“Vodka!” Eddie chuckles, amused by your current giggly and silly attitude. “My baby got wasted without me?”

Your earrings click against his rings as you shake your head. “’m not wasted,” you argue, letting your bottom lip sag out in a small pout. “’m just tipsy.”

“Oooooooh.” His voice is smooth but edged, still warmed up from singing but strained from the labor. “And how much have you had to drink tonight to get tipsy? Hmmm?” He has a rough estimate in his head. Giggly but still coherent, coordinated but lethargic, your blinks slowing with his kisses as you grow sleepy. Adorable, in summary.

You hummed softly, letting your eyes drift up to the sharp lights of the stage that stung lightly after looking at them for too long. Your pout grew slightly when your gaze returned to his. “Don’t really remember.” You mumble, your lips tilting to one side of your face, the harsh taste of disappointment quickly washing away any silliness.

Eddie switched strategies quickly, kissing away the pout. “That’s okay…” His fingers traced over you, pathing so that his arms were wrapped around you securely. “Think you can give a little jump for me?”

Nodding and waiting for his countdown to finish, he collected your weight as you jumped. The edge of the stage biting briefly as he pulled you up. Now sat comfortably next to him, one hand lingering at your waist while the other returned to brushing over your cheek. “I’m just happy you had fun, sugar plum. Finally giving that big beautiful brain of yours a break.”

His smile is contagious as you lean into him. “It was so much fun getting to watch you. You sounded amazing, Edds.”

His fingers trace your jaw, coming to cup the back of your head as he leans in for another kiss. His nose traces yours when drunken giggles break the kiss again. “Well, if my number one fan said it was amazing, then the show was a success.” Despite his tone being teasing, he meant every word of it.

.

.

.

Ahhhhh I love him so much :3 Like I said in the authors note I don't know much of the story outside how Eddie is involved but I'm slowly being drawn in. I hope I did okay writing him dispite the little knowledge I have TwT

Bourders found here!

Tuna-Tober 2025 found here!

My Tuna-Tober masterlist here!

Thank you for reading <3

[tunatober]

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Playful Kiss + "How much have you had to drink 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!🐟 ✨

[shiorimakibawrites]

Tuna-Tober Day 15 - "Secrets and Lies"

Prompt - Day 13: Bandaging Wounds || Day 19: Lies 🌧 Word Count: ~990 Pairing: Matt Murdock x Nurse! Reader Summary: You were pretty sure your boyfriend was cheating on you. Warning: Angst, break-up thoughts, crying, secret identity reveal, canon-typical injuries, swearing Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza, @justvalkyrie, @xoxabs88xox, @flynnethenerd, @loveroftoomanyfandoms, @shouldbestudying41, @silversword7000 Tuna-Tober 2025 Masterlist

Day 15: Secrets and Lies

It had not been a good month. Things had been hectic at work but that was normal in nursing. The thing really spoiling things was the feeling that your boyfriend was cheating on you. Matt had been late for several of your dates or hadn't called when he said he would…And when you asked about it, he had lied. For example, saying that he was working late at the office and had lost track of time. Which had sounded plausible until Karen or Foggy contradicted that. Or you had swung by the office that night on your way home from work and knew it had been locked up tight…

But tonight had been the worse. Tonight he just hadn't shown up for your date. And he hadn't answered the phone when you tried to call him.

It had taken everything you had not to start crying in the restaurant under the pitying looks from the staff and the other diners as you waited..and waited…and waited. Until you couldn't take it anymore and asked for the check. Paid for your drinks and walked home. Took off your pretty dress, the necklace Matt had gotten you for your birthday, throwing both into the corner of your closet where you wouldn't have to see them again for a while. Under the pounding spray of the shower, you cried.

Tomorrow, you thought miserably. Tomorrow you could call Matt and tell him it was over.

Tonight, you just wanted to cry. You decided not to bother trying to eat, just stretched out on the bed in your comfiest pajamas. Curling your arms around your big pillow, you eventually managed to fall into a restless sleep.

You jolted awake. You frantically looked around the room, heart pounding in your chest. What had—Then you heard it again. A dull thump, followed by metallic rattle. It was coming from the fire escape just outside your bedroom window. You squinted, were the raccoons after your cherry tomatoes again?

No, your blood turning to ice. The shadow crouched on your fire escape was too big to be a raccoon. There was someone on your fire escape.

For a moment, you could not move. All you could do was stare at the shadow moving on your fire escape. Moving oddly some distance part of your mind couldn't help noticing. Stiff, clumsy…like the shadow didn't know where they were…And when they tried to stand up, they immediately fell back down with same thump and rattle that had woken you up. This time it was accompanied by something else. A low, pained groan.

Were they hurt? The nurse inside you wanted to rush over, to help but good sense screamed to find your phone and call the police.

The internal debate was settled when the clouds parted company with the moon and gave you just enough light to see the horns on the person's head…which gave you a moment of confusion before you realized. Daredevil. Was it Daredevil on your fire escape, trying and failing to get onto his feet?

As quietly as you could, you slipped out of bed and crept toward the window. Getting closer only confirmed it. It was Daredevil.

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen didn't seem to notice your approach until you opened up the window. Then his head snapped up in your direction, looking right at you. But before you could say a single word, he did something that really shocked you.

"Sweetheart?"

It was Matt's voice. Shaky, confused, pained but undoubtedly Matt's voice.

"Matt?" you asked.

He didn't answer. Just collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. And this time, he didn't move. You scrambled through the window, fearing the worst.

A quick assessment showed that you were right to fear. Daredevil…Matt…wasn't dead but he was hurt. Two long gashes to his side, a dent in the helmet, reeking of acrid smoke and coppery blood…and that was just what you could find under the dubious light of the moon.

Trying to move into your apartment was…interesting. Under normal circumstances, you loved Matt's muscles. Tonight? Tonight they meant he was fucking heavy. You were pretty sure you pulled something wrestling his nearly dead weight through the window. No gym for you this week. You had gotten your workout.

Getting off his suit in order to treat his injuries was another workout even with the assistance of your trauma shears. Through it did confirm that yes, your boyfriend was Daredevil. How you weren't sure. He wasn't faking the blindness. Your trusty penlight had confirmed that.

Unfortunately that question, along with all the others running through your head, would have to wait. Matt had stirred a few times while you were stitching up the gashes on his side, each time with a confused 'Sweetheart?' before passing out again. Probably for the best. You didn't exactly have any painkillers beyond what was available over the counter.

You taped a bandage over the last of his wounds, checked his vitals one more time before collapsing back against your bed. In a minute, you'd get up and clean him up. Find a pair of his sweatpants so he didn't spend the rest of the night buck ass naked on your bedroom floor.

But for now, you were tired and conflicted. Now that you weren't focused on stopping your boyfriend from bleeding to death, you weren't sure what to think. On the one hand, Matt being Daredevil did explain a lot. Like where all those bruises had come from. Certainly made more sense than Matt being extraordinarily accident-prone whenever he was out of your direct line of sight. He probably wasn't cheating on you…

On the other hand, it hurt that he had lied to you. It stung that he didn't trust you…

"Sweetheart?"

Awake. Still confused but sounding a little more coherent than he had before.

"Hi Matt," you said, turning to face him. "We need to talk."

[tunatober]

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Bandaging Wounds + Lies 🐟✨

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

[i-wish-the-doctor-were-real]

Tuna Tober Day 10 - "Simple Gifts Halfway Around the Sun"

Prompt: Day 10: You remembered Word Count: 1,009 Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers Summary: Bucky celebrates an unusual tradition, Steve remembers Warnings: Fluff, brief mention of smut or intimacy later on

laurelmatt53 on ao3

Day 10: Simple Gifts Halfway Around the Sun

Bucky had always had a conflicted relationship with his birthday. The feeling of not having done enough, the fact years continued to pass, and the serpentine journey of healing. These factors combined made his birthday feel so complicated. He usually spent the day on a quiet hike or perusing a bookstore. One year he decided to celebrate his half birthday instead. It felt less emotionally loaded and he didn't feel the social pressure to celebrate how others wanted. He loved Becca and his parents, but sometimes he was so focused on them that he wasn't able to relax and simply enjoy the day. The pressure to celebrate and be joyful stressed him out.

One day in early mid September Bucky went to check out the local market. It was a beautiful day out, the afternoon breeze chasing away a bit of the warmth of summer and bringing the promise of autumn soon. He walked around the market enjoying the sun on his face and the buzz of people looking at produce, buying bread, or smelling locally made soaps. He was walking along the booths when he noticed vibrant, purple plums in a basket on a table. Bucky was immediately drawn by the beautiful color of the fruit. He'd never had fresh plums before but decided to be adventureous and try them. The plums looked so supple and delicious.

Bucky headed to the park after the vendor had picked a few ripe plums for him. He sat down on a bench in the shade of a large maple tree. Bucky took a plum out of his tote bag and as the breeze ruffled his hair he took a decisive bite. The plum was juicy, the flavor lighting up his taste buds as juice from the fruit began to messily drip down his face and off of his fingers. It was perfect. The perfect day, a perfect plum, and the perfect way to spend his half birthday he thought smiling to himself. From then on it became a tradition. Every year Bucky would find a market or go to a grocery store when he couldn't find them locally and buy himself plums taking a moment out of his day to pause, appreciate himself, and enjoy a delicious treat.

Five Years Later, Sept 10th

Bucky: Hey darling, I have meetings basically all day until 6pm. I'll be at your place about 6:30pm.

Steve: Oof, that's a long day. Good luck! I'm looking forward to tonight.

Bucky: I really am too. Just need to make it through this day.

Steve: You've got this sweetheart!

Bucky: Thanks! I'll let you know if I end up running later. Good luck today too!

Bucky stuck his copy of Steve's key in the door.

They'd been dating for almost a year now having met at a bar after Nat had apparently dared Steve to talk to him. After an awkward, slightly stilted start they'd ended up talking for the rest of the night in a corner booth getting to know each other.

One day some months in Steve had given Bucky his own key to his place. Bucky had been baffled by the offer, but had happily accepted it.

"You spend so much time here already you should have your own key" Steve insisted. Bucky thanked Steve as he carefully craddled the key in his hand before adding it to his key ring with a big, happy grin on his face.

Bucky let out a deep sigh before opening the door attempting to leave the stressful day behind. His shoulders slumped slightly as he realized he hadn't bought plums. He'd had such a crazy day it had slipped his mind. He walked in and hung his bag in the hook by the door. "Hey Stevie!" he called out tiredly. No one answered, but he heard noises coming from the kitchen. Bucky walked around the corner and contained a laugh as he took in the sight before him. Steve wearing an apron flour dusting his nose and cheek.

"Hi Buck! It's almost done. I baked something special for tonight. I know we planned on dinner, but how about we start with dessert?"

"Sounds good to me. It smells delicious! What did you ma-" Bucky stopped mid sentence, interupted as the oven timer went off. Steve bent down and pulled a cake out of the oven and placed it on the counter.

"I baked plum cake, for your half birthday" Steve explained shyly. "I know you usually just buy fresh plums, but Nat suggested I bake something. "I tried to explain the tradition you have, but she insisted." Steve rambled on. "I bought enough so we could go to the park tomorrow and have some together to celebrate too, if you don't mind me joining in on the tradition of course. I don't have to co-."

Bucky had stepped into the kitchen further while Steve rambled on and brought a hand to cup Steve's cheek stilling his train of thought. "You remembered" Bucky breathed out in surprise and disbelief.

"Of course I did sweetheart. Happy Half Birthday my love."

A fond smile graced his face as he gazed at Steve. He'd remembered. It meant so much to Bucky and somehow Steve just knew. He'd done what he could to make the day special for Bucky. He'd remembered the quirkly tradition that was so special to Bucky.

"I'd love that. The park tomorrow with you and plums sounds perfect. I'd love to continue the tradition with you." Bucky brought his lips to Steve's kissing him gently with care as his thumb stroked his cheek, the promise of the possibility of more later evident as he briefly deepened the kiss. He wouldn't mind licking something sticky off of Steve's fingers later. Whether or not that was plum syrup they'd find out he thought with a smirk. He felt so lucky to have Steve. He was so lucky to have Steve.

"I'm so lucky to be with you. You deserve to be celebrated" Steve announced softly gazing deep into Bucky's eyes.

[tunatober]

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "You remembered" 🐟✨

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

[shiorimakibawrites]

Tuna-Tober Day 13: The Dragon of Hell's Kitchen

Prompt - Day 13: "Is that a dragon?"🌹 Word Count: ~930 Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader Summary: "Is that a dragon?!" "No, it's Matt. Obviously." "Obviously." Warning: Involuntary transformation, shenanigans, canon-typical violence Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza, @justvalkyrie, @xoxabs88xox, @flynnethenerd, @loveroftoomanyfandoms, @shouldbestudying41, @silversword7000 Tuna-Tober 2025 Masterlist

Day 13: The Dragon of Hell's Kitchen

It felt a little weird being carried. He hadn't been small enough for anyone to carry for years. But here he was, coiled against your chest inside your coat as you walked to the office. He didn't enjoy how the down in the said winter coat muffled things but under the circumstances, he couldn't use his own coat and it was bitterly cold this morning.

Foggy greeted you cheerfully before asking, "Is Matt coming in later?"

"No," you said, unzipping your coat so Matt could crawl out onto the desk. He did and waited for his best friend's reaction. It didn't take long.

"Is that a dragon?!"

"No, it's Matt. Obviously."

"Obviously." Matt didn't need eyes to know that Foggy was rolling his eyes. "Why is Matt a dragon?"

"Dr. Strange."

Both Foggy and Karen groaned. This was far from the first time something like this had happened. They had been told that the former surgeon was pretty good at this magic stuff but it seemed like every time Matt helped him out, something magical happened to him. Sometimes it was harmless like turning Matt's hair carrot red for a month. But sometimes it had been life-threatening like the time Matt got hit with the 'hear no' part of some kind of 'see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil' spell. In the middle of a battle. You had been hit with the speak no part but — as he was told later by Jessica — you had been able to communicate how, if he ever did something like that to Matt again, you would fold him like a paper hat.

If Matt hadn't been in love with you already, that would have done it.

While getting into a red dragon about the size of a corn snake was closer to the annoying side of the scale than the dangerous, it seemed to Matt that Strange had been very nervous explaining that the spell shouldn't last longer than a week…

"Fuck…" Foggy said. "I thought you both agreed not to work with that guy anymore?"

"We did. We didn't agree to anything. He just showed up. And then immediately hit Matt."

"By mistake?"

"So he says." The rustle of silk fabric indicated that you had shrugged. "Told Matt to nail him with the baton next time Strange shows up anywhere near us. Assuming that I don't web him up first."

"Good idea," Karen said. "Okay, let's make a plan."

The plan ended up being telling Matt's appointments that he had gotten the flu and re-scheduling them when possible…for those who couldn't wait until next week, they divided them between Foggy and you…And if worst came to worst, Foggy was confident that he could sweet talk Marci into taking at least one of the cases…

The week went about as well as could be expected. He managed to avoid cabin fever by figuring out how his wings worked. Matt thought he had gotten pretty good at the flying thing, if you asked him. Even if you couldn't stop giggling at him after his first attempts went…awry and you had to untangle him from afghan on the couch along with your current crochet project. Teasingly asking him if he was a dragon or a cat.

To the surprise of absolutely nobody, Matt insisted on accompanying you on patrol. Where the local never-do-wells discovered that the Devil of Hell's Kitchen might be tiny but those claws were razor sharp. They also learned that he could breathe fire. Granted that had been just as much of a surprise to Matt as it was to the criminals. But Matt was quick to take advantage of that.

But as well as things were going, Matt was looking forward to getting back to normal. He wanted to be able to talk again. There was only so much one could communicate with pantomime and charades. Especially when one doesn't have hands…He had court on Friday, a hearing that neither Foggy or you or Marci could cover for him…And on the human level, he wanted to be able to hold you again. Kiss you. Make love.

So he was rather understandably upset when the clock struck midnight and he was still a dragon.

You weren't happy either. You tucked him into your coat and swung over to the Sanctum Sanctorum immediately. You didn't care that it was the middle of the night.

Wong was very helpful. Apparently Strange was in such a hurry to get out of folding range that he missed a few details. Namely that spell didn't usually turn people into dragons. Granted there was always a certain amount of wiggle room in magic but there was a big difference between 'small rodent' and 'dragon.' Especially in magic if Matt was following Wong's explanation.

The reason for this oddity was simple enough, if unexpected. Apparently sometime in the distant past, one of his ancestors had slept with a dragon and had a baby. It had been so long ago that the dragon genes were more or less dormant. Until the spell ended up activating them — or activating more of them since Wong seemed to think that some had already gotten switched on…

Matt wasn't sure about that. He didn't have any scales, wings, claws, or fire-breathe prior to this week…but that was a mystery to untangle later. Right now he was more concerned with learning how to shift his shape back to human. It took a couple sleepless nights but at eight am Friday morning, Matt was standing next to his client ready to argue his case.

[tunatober]

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "Is that a dragon?" 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

[shiorimakibawrites]

Tuna-Tober Day 12: "One Last Time"

Prompt: Day 12: Sleepy Morning Sex🔥 Word Count: ~1300 Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader Summary: You are flying out in a few hours. You want to have Matt one more time...Sequel to So...I Guess We're Sharing and Day 9 "Mine" Warning: Explicit sexual content, kissing, p in v sex, riding, swearing, slow sex, Sub! Matt, pillow talk Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza, @justvalkyrie, @xoxabs88xox, @flynnethenerd, @loveroftoomanyfandoms, @shouldbestudying41, @silversword7000 Tuna-Tober 2025 Masterlist

Day 12: One Last Time

You should be asleep. You needed to sleep. You had a flight to catch in just a few hours. The alarm was set to chime soon. You had to get through security at the airport and the flight itself. Once you arrived, there were things you needed to take care of. And you had stayed up way too late last night…

And yet, here you were. Awake, not even attempting to catch a few more precious moments of sleep…

The reason was the man behind you. You were acutely aware of every inch of his naked body against yours. The face nuzzling against your neck, the strong arms wrapped around your torso, one hand holding a breast, the half-hard cock rubbing against your ass…

He wasn't awake. Dreaming perhaps but sound asleep. You were certain of that. The past two nights had retaught you all of Matt's habits in bed. If he was awake, the hand on your breast would be doing more than an occasional squeeze. He'd be whispering all things he wanted to do into your ear. One hand would have slid down between your thighs, encouraging them to part…

It wouldn't take much encouragement, you noted. No matter how many times he had been buried inside you, how many times he had made you come sobbing his name…it wasn't enough. You still needed more. You were addicted to him. And you wanted one last hit before you were forced apart.

Predictably Matt grumbled when you tried squirming out of his grip. Even asleep, he didn't want to let you go. Which was fair. In many ways, you didn't want him to let you go either. But you couldn't start your plans from your current position. Unfortunately you underestimated how hard it would be to move his heavy body when he wasn't cooperating.

You might need another plan…

"Sweetheart?" Matt asked, his voice thick with sleep.

"Hey Matt," you replied softly and attempted to turn to face him. It was significantly easier now that he wasn't asleep and trying to hold onto you like you were the world's biggest teddy bear. The only downside was seeing him with his hair a messy tousle and hazel eyes half-lidded was that it was impossible not to kiss him.

So you did. Despite the desire that had inspired your actions, the kiss was a soft, languid thing. The kind of kiss that end on forever, lips pulling only far enough apart to take a breath before pressing back against each other. The kind where you don't tease each other's tongues in a battle for dominance but invite them to a gentle exploration of one's mouth.

Matt accepted your whispered order to roll onto his back with barely a protest. If a faint whine when this change of position pulled his mouth too far away from yours to keep kissing counted as a protest. A whine that turned into an eager moan when you straddled him and lowered yourself onto his hardening cock. Matt seemed unable to stop himself from gripping your hips or arching up, rubbing his cock against your wet cunt. An action that had you echoing his moan, clenching around the empty air.

Moans that repeated as you leaned forward and kissed him again. And got louder as your hips moved back and forth against him until he was fully hard and had been thoroughly coated in your slick. Then you broke off the kiss, ignoring his whine in favor of lifting your hips enough to line up his cock with your entrance. Matt swore softly as you took him inside you.

You had intended to sink all the way down in one smooth move but reality nixed that idea almost immediately. Matt had fucked you several times over the past two nights, just fucked you twice before you both fell asleep a few hours before, but you still barely got him inside you before having to stop. It felt good…so damn good…but there was an edge to the delicious stretch that said this pleasure could easily turn into pain.

You felt him tense under you. Fighting the urge to thrust up into you. "Don't have to…sweetheart…eat you out first…" He managed to pant out through gritted teeth.

"No," you said. You wanted the sting, wanted the soreness to last as long as possible. And with that goal in mind, you braced your hands against his chest and began to slowly sunk down. Your head full back and you moaned, reveling in the sensation of his thick cock stretching you, filling your greedy cunt more and more until he was entirely sheathed inside you.

Matt's hands on your hips tightened to near-bruising as he let out a breathless, "Fuck…fuck, sweetheart."

You circled your hips a little, seeing if you had adjusted enough to start moving, an action that had Matt swearing again, his hips making a small jerk upward before he regained control of himself. It was tempting, oh so tempting, to see if you could make him lose that self-control and start fucking into you. But your desire to turn him into a whiny, desperate mess was stronger.

So you slowly raised up until he was barely inside you, then just as slowly lowered yourself back on his cock until he bottomed out inside you. Matt's nails dug into your hips as he swore and groaned. Then you did it again and again, never increasing your pace as you watched Matt fall apart beneath you. Time ceased to have all meaning as your entire world narrowed down to the cock filling your cunt, the whimpers and groans spilling out of your lover's mouth like water as you climbed toward that edge.

You weren't alone on that cliff. Matt was right there with you. You could see it in his face, feel it in the way his body trembled, his inability to stop himself from thrusting up…

An assessment confirmed by him panting out, "Fuck….sweetheart…gonna cum."

"Then cum," you said…no, ordered. "Cum for me, Matthew."

With a shout of your name and a sharp snap of his hips, he obeyed.

You didn't notice his hand moving until his fingers found your clit. You gasped, feeling your cunt clench tightly around his cock. Matt moaned, grinding up into you but his fingers never faltered. Even after you tumbled off that edge with a shuddering moan, his fingers kept working and drawing out your orgasm. Until you collapsed forward onto his chest, still trembling and clenching around the cock buried deep inside you.

You both lay there, catching your breath. Matt couldn't seem to keep his hands still, touching every inch of your body that he could reach as the waves of pleasure gradually receded. Then it was your turn to whine when he lifted your hips and allowed his now soft cock to slip out of your body. But, you had to admit, getting to straighten your legs back out did feel good…your knees pointedly reminding you that you weren't twenty anymore.

It also helped that Matt settled you on top of him. You burrowed your face against his neck. And admitted what you hadn't wanted to voice out loud. "I don't want to go."

Matt's hands tightened around you. "I don't want you to go either. I wish you were coming with me."

You sighed. "Me too. But I've got to be there for the closing on the house."

"Closing on the house?" Matt repeated, confused. "Whose house?"

"Mine," you said, then nervously drummed your fingers against his chest. "I'm moving back. Just have a few things to finish taking care of back in Cali….so, ummm, wanna have coffee sometime?"

You cringed. That sounded so pathetic….

"I'd love to."

[tunatober]

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Sleepy Morning Sex 🐟✨

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[i-wish-the-doctor-were-real]

Tuna Tober Day 13: "It's Okay to Want Something Quiet"

Prompt: Day 11: Anxiety Word Count: 654 Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes Summary: Steve spirals about what he wants to do with life after fighting for so long. It might be time for a change. Warnings: panic attack, anxiety, mentions of violence, comfort

laurelmatt53 on ao3

Day 13: It's Okay to Want Something Quiet

"I'm so tired Buck, I'm so goddamn tired. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep carrying the weight of everyone's expectations. I know I should be grateful and I am, you know I am. I wanted so badly to serve my country and i was finally able to with the serum and by being Captain America, but some times I just want to be Steve, a guy from Brooklyn who loves his husband."

"You don't have to carry it alone. I'm always here for you."

"I know darling. It can't help feeling lonely though. The pressure to be this symbol, this faultless being. I've been fighting for so long, both of us have. I'm always ready for a fight."

"I realize. You can do it all day right?" Bucky offered with a sympathetic smile.

"But- but I'm tired of fighting. I'll be there if I'm needed, you know I always will be, but I want peace, I want a life with you."

"Then maybe it's time to pass the mantel on" Bucky suggested gently.

"On one hand I'm exhausted, I'm burnt out from war after war, but it's been so long that I'm not sure who I am without being Captain America. There always seems to be someone who endangers Earth or some space crisis endangering the galaxy. I'd tear myself apart to save others, but at the same time I want a peaceful life with you. A yard, a dog, maybe a garden. I don't know how to set it down." Steve's breath began to quicken beginning to almost come in gasps as he spoke. "I don't know how to not feel so guilty about wanting to rest it feels hard to breathe. I'd be shirking my duty. I was gifted the serum to help others. Shouldn't I help? Shouldn't I continue to fight? Who am I to step down from this responsibility? What am I thi-"

"Steve, Stevie. Breathe, just take a breath for me, please. You're hyperventilating." Bucky rested a hand on his arm rubbing circles with his thumb over the skin above the crook of Steve's elbow while his other hand gently reached for Steve's face. "Take a deep breath for me."

"I- am- breath-ing-" Steve stubbornly gasped out.

Bucky would've fondly rolled his eyes at Steve's lie if he hadn't been so worried about bringing Steve back from the panic his frenzied mind had ensnared him in. "That's it sweetheart. Breath after breath, just follow me."

Steve took a shaky breath and then another Bucky encouraging him the whole time and breathing with him. Eventually Steve's breaths leveled out and his eyes damp with tears glanced up meeting Bucky's worried gaze.

"I don't know how to carry it all. There's who I feel I should be or who I feel I have to be and then there's what I want. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I want a life with you. I want peace. I want to enjoy our lives together instead of just going from one fight to the next. I'm getting too old for this shit." Steve admitted with a wry smile.

"We both are" Bucky quipped back. His face grew serious once more. "I can see how heavily it all weighs on you, but might you consider that it's not be yours to carry anymore? You've done so much, saved so many people. You can let it go. No one would fault or begrudge you for wanting a quiet life away from it all. Either way, we'll figure it out together." Bucky softly kissed Steve's forehead sealing the promise.

"Thank you Buck." Steve wrapped his strong arms around Bucky in a tight, emotional embrace. Bucky returned the warmth and moved one hand to cup the back of Steve's neck reassuringly.

"It's okay to rest Steve. I'll be right here with you the whole way. I'm not going anywhere" Bucky whispered.

[tunatober]

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[shiorimakibawrites]

Tuna-Tober Day 8: "Dangerous Glitter"

Prompt: Day 8: Sex Pollen 🔥 Word Count: ~930 Pairing: Daredevil x Vigilante! Reader Summary: You thought it was glitter. Warning: Explicit sexual activity, sex pollen, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, multiple orgasms, established relationship (friends with benefits), swearing Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza, @justvalkyrie, @xoxabs88xox, @flynnethenerd, @loveroftoomanyfandoms, @shouldbestudying41, @silversword7000 Tuna-Tober 2025 Masterlist

Day 8: Dangerous Glitter

You thought it was glitter.

It looked like glitter. Acted like glitter. A cloud of tiny sparkles that managed to both cling to every surface they landed on and shed worse than a cat. You had to give the gang some credit — setting off a glitter bomb was certainly one of the more creative attempts to defeat you and Daredevil. Not that it helped them one little bit. You still kicked their asses.

And you might have taken great delight to breaking the nose of the asshole who set off the bomb. Hey, don't judge. Getting all this crap off your suit, not to mention your apartment, was going to take forever. That headache outweighed any humor at seeing Daredevil coated with pink sparkles. Which, admittedly, was very funny. You had seen wet cats look less disgruntled than your devil.

It wasn't too surprising that he decided to call it a night afterward.

Even when you started feeling worked up on the way back, you didn't think anything of it. It wasn't unusual. At least not for you and Daredevil. You couldn't speak for the other vigilantes but post-battle high left you both with urges.

So you weren't surprised when, after getting a few blocks away from the last battle, Daredevil stopped running and corralled you against a little building covering a roof-access stairwell. Nor were you surprised by the kiss that followed, biting and full of the fire still raging in his blood. In your blood as you were just as aggressive with your kisses, doing your best to eat him with your lips and tongue from the mouth down.

Previous trysts had taught your devil where the hidden zippers on your suit were. In short order, he was peeling down the one that left your breasts bare to the cool night air. You weren't sure when he had lost his gloves. You weren't sure that you cared. It didn't matter. What mattered was those warm, rough hands cupping and squeezing your breasts. What mattered those clever, calloused fingers pinching your nipples until they were drawn up taut. What mattered was those fingers being replaced by his hot, hungry mouth. What mattered was that mouth moving down, down, down…

You weren't sure whose hands were more impatient, yours or his, as they yanked your pants and underwear down far enough that you could kick one leg free. His hands were just impatient as they lifted said leg up on his shoulder. That accomplished, the devil between your legs wasted no time in claiming his prize.

Daredevil had always ate you out like he was starving for it. Tonight…tonight, he buried his face in your cunt and devoured you. Chasing every drop of slick hidden in your folds if he would die if he didn't get enough of your taste. Licking and sucking at your clit until you had to bite your bottom lip bloody to keep your cries from shattering the relative quiet as your orgasm slammed into you hard and fast.

Hard and fast also described how he sheathed himself inside you, body still trembling from your orgasm. This time you couldn't stop the guttural moan from escaping. Hopefully the top floor was either unoccupied or its residents were heavy sleepers. Very heavy sleepers as Daredevil seemed determined to make you moan like that again. He succeeded easily. You couldn't keep silent, not with his thick cock filling you so well, not with every thrust hitting that spot inside you seeing stars.

You couldn't last. You were hurdling toward your second orgasm at breakneck speed. Daredevil wasn't far behind you, judging by the words being raggedly gasped into your ear, "Fuck, feel so perfect, taking me so well…fuck, fuck…!"

With that last fuck, a thumb pressed against your clit. No teasing tonight — just firm, relentless pressure — that sent that orgasm crashing ashore to drown you in pleasure. Pleasure so sharp it almost hurt. Pleasure that did not recede but continued to build as the pace of his hips never faltered. Even after Daredevil swore and you felt him come inside you, he kept fucking you. That thumb kept rubbing your clit until you were clenching around his cock again as third orgasm washed over you.

Things got a little fuzzy after that.

At some point, you entered the building. Which was apparently Daredevil's apartment building. A distance part of your mind registered alarm at this along the loss of both of your masks…but the foremost part of your mind was too consumed by the sex.

It was after the third — or was it fifth? — time that he spilled himself inside you and yet his cock remained rock hard that you began to think something was odd. That, despite your many (many) orgasms, your greedy cunt still wanted more…how much you ached every time he wasn't inside you, filling you up…

In a brief moment of clarity, you realized that the glitter might not have been glitter…But sex pollen. Pink, sparkly sex pollen…

A theory that you remembered — eventually — to share with your devil. You weren't sure how much got through the sex haze but he cooperated with getting herded into the shower. It helped. It helped a lot. Afterward, you were able to collapse into his bed, still naked but finally sated.

And sleepy. Very sleepy. Daredevil had already fallen asleep, limbs tangled together with yours. You decided he had the right idea, pulling the sheet across your bodies. You'd deal with the whole identity reveal thing….later. After your nap. And when you could feel your legs again.

[tunatober]

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✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Sex Pollen 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨

[mars-242322]

Tuna-Tober Day Two!

Day 2: Bleeding out, "I think I might be in love with you." (this is a backup promt!)

WARNINGS: talk of war, talk of blood, talk of bleeding/injury, bad medical knowledge (I was not about to learn about how to give someone stitches for a 1,000 word fic okay?), as always bad editing, bad writting of a scottish accent, actively being bombed (reader and soap are in an active war zone)

Word count: 1,168

The abandoned building shook again with the blasts from the jets above. The dust falling from the ceiling is settling around you. Once the shaking calmed enough and Johnny’s back relaxed slightly, you returned to weaving the needle through the gash on his shoulder.

The Scotsman hissed against the bite of the needle, “Y’know, when Cap said the desert, I was thinking Egypt! Fancy triangles and tourist traps. Less active war zone.”

You manage to hold in the snicker, but your smile still breaks through. “You read the transmission from Gaz… Getting stuck in this wasn’t really a part of the plan.”

“Yeah, well, running around a 30-floor building looking for some tiny thumb drive isn’t my idea of fun either. Booms or not.”

Jonny flinched slightly with a louder hiss as you pulled the stitch closed. Moving with him as he jerked to prevent the string from breaking, you pushed your front into Johnny’s side. If it weren’t for the needle, tactical gear, and blood, it’d almost be like the two of you were cuddling.

“Johnny!” Your voice rises slightly to chide him but falters when his hand lands just above your knee. His brows are pulled together as he breathes through the throbbing in his shoulder, his hand squeezing gently. Giving him something to stay grounded to. You stay still but move to take any pressure around the wound off to give him a moment to breathe. Only keeping a wad of gauze there to collect any blood trickling down.

“Sorry Bonnie… It’s a little more tender than usual.”

You lean to the side slightly, your chest grazing over his arm as you move to let him see more of your face. Letting your expression relax and look calmer than you really feel.

“It’s alright… With no anesthesia, it can be a bit much.”

Johnny relaxes more immediately upon getting to look you in the eye and then smiles at your reassurance. “I suppose I should stop bein’ a whimp… Getting stabbed hurt a far amount more.”

The laugh bubbles out this time. Shaking your head at him before moving back to get back into position. His hand still lingering but softer now. His thumb rubbing small circles into the thick material of your pants.

“I would give you more time, but you’re starting to bleed out on me, MacTavish. I can’t lug you and our gear to the recon spot.”

“It’s alright, Darling, keep going.”

Maybe it's the situation; after all, how often are you cuddled next to your sergeant with his blood splattered on different parts of you (truly the most romantic scenario)? Or maybe it's the months of tension finally breaking, nearly a year of longing glances and whispered flirts. Unlike before, though, there’s no teasing here. His voice is soft, and all you can smell is his sweat and musk from the mission. No matter the reason, you can’t seem to calm your heart down or resist the urge to lean into him further.

Johnny grows tense as you start stitching him up again. Letting out another soft hiss as his head droops forward. Keeping focused on breathing through the pain.

“I don’t think you’re a whimp, Johnny… One of the bravest men I’ve ever met.” Pulling another stitch together, you're hoping the next one will finish closing the wound. “I- I respect you a lot.”

For once Johnny doesn’t have any witty comeback, no sly smirk as he brushes it off. He let his hand drift on your leg. Pulling your leg closer without disturbing your work too much and letting his hand fall further up your thigh, closer to your hip.

He’s silent as you close the wound, as you whip it for a final time and bandage it over. The clicks of your med kit is what prompts him to move again, turning to face you and guiding both of your legs into his lap. Needing to keep you with him and him anchored to reality (he’s very lightheaded; someone please get this man a bottle of water and a blood pack).

His voice is cracked and soft when he finally whispers, “I think I might be in love with you, Bonnie.”

There’s no hesitancy in his words. His eyes never leave your face as his fingers trace over the hem of one of your pockets. It’s both the most exciting and terrifying thing he’s ever said to you. Another rumble of the building confirms he’s also said it in probably the most inappropriate of circumstances.

Once the building stops shaking from the blast, you look back to him. “I think you’ve lost a bit too much blood to be confessing something like that, Sergeant.” It’s both a reminder and an out.

The Scotsman is having none of it, shaking his head as soon as you finish speaking, “Don’t fuckin’ do that.”

“John-”

“Ghost and Gaz poke fun at me half the time because I’m followin’ you around like a damn puppy. I forced Price to get rid of that paper runner because I couldn’t see you as often during the day. If I haven’t gotten you to agree to one of our little lunch dates, I don’t bother eating it half the time. If I’m not with you, you’re all I think about, and when I am with you, you’ve still got all of my attention-” It’s like the floodgates of his mind have opened. His expression is a mix of hurt and determination as he lays it all out. Finally saying what everyone already knew.

A blast stronger than the others before it cuts him off. The stronger shaking of the building prompted him to pull you in even closer in an effort to shield you from whatever danger may come. It’s once the building's rumble winds down that he lets his arms around your middle relax enough for you to pull back and look at him.

“I promise it’s not just me gettin’ banged up that got me spillin’ my guts, Hon. I know you feel the same way; otherwise you would have shooed me off by now… I love you, Bonnie.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until Johnny’s thumb swipes over your cheek to brush the tear away. Using the opportunity of his arm being raised to fall further into him. The two of you quickly pretzel into a hug, letting Johnny have what he’s been craving for months and you allowing the walls around your relationship to fall and reform.

“I would never shoo you away like some lost kitten, Johnny.” You giggle into his chest, which rumbles with his own laugh. His head dropping and letting him press kisses to the top of your head. “What does ‘bonnie’ even mean?” Lifting your head to look at him, revealing his usual mischievous smirk.

“Can’t tell you.” When your brows draw together in confusion, his smirk twitches into a genuine smile. “Don’t wanna risk you givin’ me a matching stab wound on the other side.”

.

.

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I'm much happier with this one. Day's are being posted so out of order LMAO. This was my first attempt at writing a fic centered around Johnny and I kinda had a blast. Slowly but surely I am falling for the silly Soap boy. (I wanna kiss him but like just a little bit. Out here cheating on my main hoes (husbands))

extra side note: I'm sorry the formatting is trash. I know my formatting usually isn't very good but it felt extra bad here for some reason.

Bourders found here!

Tuna-Tober 2025 found here!

My Tuna-Tober masterlist here!

Thank you for reading <3

[tunatober]

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✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: Bleeding Out + "I think I might be in love with you." 🐟✨

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

[shiorimakibawrites]

Tuna-Tober Day 9: "Mine"

Prompt: Day 2: "As you wish" || Day 7: Scent Kink || Day 9: "You're mine" 🔥 Word Count: ~910 Pairing: Daredevil x Reader Summary: You were his. At least for this weekend. Sequel to So...I Guess We're Sharing. Warning: Explicit sexual activity, referenced oral sex, breast play, orgasm denial, edging, unprotected p in v sex, scent marking, possessiveness, appearance of Sub! Matt, hair-pulling Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza, @justvalkyrie, @xoxabs88xox, @flynnethenerd, @loveroftoomanyfandoms, @shouldbestudying41, @silversword7000 Tuna-Tober 2025 Masterlist

Day 9: Mine

Matt had forgotten how intoxicating you were. Time has dulled the memory of your time together, softened the reality. There was nothing soft about the way your pheromones ensnared him, drawing him in like a bee to a flower.

Your scent was just the beginning. Everything about you seemed to have been made to drive him mad. The petal softness of your skin, the tangy sweetness of your cunt, the beauty of your pleasured cries…it was addicting. Powerful. He had underestimated it…little wonder he had come all over himself like a teenager just from the taste of your orgasm on his tongue…

He wanted more. He needed more.

Matt needed to paint your body with his scent. Mark you so thoroughly with his pheromones that no one could miss them. He had made a good start earlier but your cunt had been tempting. It was still tempting him. He could easily spend all night with his face buried between your thighs, seeing how many times he could make you come. How long it would take for you to soak these sheets…

But it was not to be. You had clearly expressed what you desired — for him to fuck you into the mattress.

His cock had no problem with this plan. Was already half-hard at the thought, eager to replace with dim recollection of what it was like inside you with present reality…

In the meantime, Matt could accomplish his other goal. He nuzzled your breasts. Enjoyed the shivers and shudders as your body, already sensitive from two orgasms, reacted to the scrap of his beard across your skin. The hitch of your breath as he followed that initial trail with his tongue. He had to moan…your skin on its own was a delight but his beard had carried the sweetness of your release…

He chased every drop, slowly making his up the swell of your breast until he felt the texture of your skin change. The nipple, already drawn tight and eager for his attention. He gladly gave it — licking, kissing, suckling. Reveling in every moan you gave him…in the way you arched your back, offering more of your breast. The sharp cry and the way you writhed under him as he sucked hard on the nipple…the aroma of fresh slick as a third orgasm swelled…it was so beautiful.

"Matt!" You protested when his mouth released your nipple with a loud pop.

"Shhh, sweet girl," he cooed. "I'll take care of you. I promise."

Then he started the same, slow spiral journey up your other breast. After all, he could hardly lavish attention only on one breast…It didn't matter how much you whined or squirmed, he would not be deterred from his mission. When he latched onto the nipple, his prize was a shuddering groan and your hands burying themselves in his hair. You pulled on the strands on every hard suck, adding a delicious edge of pain that had him moaning.

You cried out at the vibration, arching into him…once again teetering on that edge…

And once again, he pulled away before you could tumble over it.

Your outrage at having your orgasm denied for the second time was immediate. You used your grip on his hair to yank his head back, growling out an irate, "Matthew Michael Murdock!"

He almost came on the spot.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Matt asked, unable to resist being a smartass. Your hand tightened on his hair, sending further sparks of pleasure straight to his painfully hard cock.

"Fuck. Me." You ordered.

"As you wish."

You kept your grip on his hair as he shifted into position. He coated his cock in your slick, making sure to tease your clit as he did so. He lined himself up with your entrance.It was tempting to tease you further but perhaps sensing this, you growled out another, "Matthew, I swear to God—!"

Your threats cut off in a gasp when he started pressing inside you. Slowly, inch by inch, he slid himself inside you. Until, at last, he was fully sheathed. He moaned, fighting to give you a moment to adjust to the feeling. It was difficult. As before, his memory had not done your cunt justice. Utterly failed to capture how it squeezed around his cock, how every twitch threatened to make him come…

"Matt," you panted out, "Move!"

"As you wish," he grunted, then obeyed. Starting with a small rock of his hips that barely shifted him inside you, adjusting his angle until you cried out. There, found it…now faster and deeper until, as requested, he was pounding you into the mattress.

Your legs had risen up to wrap around his waist. The hand that wasn't still tightly gripping his hair racked down his back, each nail a path of sweet, sweet fire. All the while, you babbled out praise, "Yes, yes…. good boy….making me feel so good…yes, yes, yes!"

He wouldn't last much longer. Fortunately, you were close. He could feel it in the way your body trembled, the way your voice broke…

"Mine," Matt panted against your neck, one hand reaching between your bodies for your clit. You gasped when he found the already oversensitive little nub. "You're mine."

"Yours!" You sobbed in agreement. Then you came, your cunt clamping around his cock like a vice.

With a shout, Matt gave one last hard thrust and followed you over that edge.

[tunatober]

✨🐟TUNA-TOBER FIC DETECTED 🐟✨

✨🐟CALCULATING... CALCULATING... 🐟✨

✨🐟PROMPTS FILLED: "As you wish" + Scent Kink + "You're Mine" 🐟✨

✨🐟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!🐟 ✨