#Fan Fiction

[saigoat]

Not all villains need a redemption arc. People act like having an antagonist in a piece of media that is actually evil/ immoral/ shitty in general makes it some taboo grotesquerie.

#fan fiction #horror #horror writing #whump #whump writing

[the-bar-sinister]

✨ Write the stories you want to write.

✨ Don't let anyone shame you for the type of stories you write.

✨ Don't let anyone shame you for writing fanfiction, or for writing any other fiction that isn't seen as 'marketable'.

✨ Selling books is not everyone's reason and goal for writing stories.

✨ Write stories because you want to write them.

#on writing #writing advice #writeblr #writing inspiration #writblr #ao3 #archive of our own #fan fiction #fandom wank #fanfic #fanfiction #darkfic #writing positivity #dark fic #🔍⚔️

[athanza]

Starlett - Part 3

Cooper Howard/fem!OC (not self-insert)

Tags: Hurt/comfort (sort of?), non-allowed romantic connection, lots of tention, pre and post war drama, some fluff

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse (no graphic scenes or descriptions of that nature), angst, canon wasteland violence

This branches out from canon but I thought it was a cute story idea so I had to write it. Enjoy! ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | Final part

2296

Suddenly Irene looked unsteady and she held a hand to the wound on her side.

"Fancy seein' you here." She chuckled painfully.

"I know, I haven't changed a bit."

She laughed but immediately regretted it, groaning in pain.

"You uh," she said, blood dripping down her leg. "you wouldn't happen to have a stimpak on you would ya? I'm uh...I'm not feelin' too hot."

He looked her over, the gash was deep, she'd need more than one stimpak. "Unfortunately I don't think I do."

Suddenly her legs gave out from underneath her and she collapsed.

"Whoa." He said, catching her before she hit the ground.

Irene woke up hours later, lying on her back in what looked like a small cave, her head resting on a saddle bag.

She didn't look any different than she did before the war, albeit a little dishevelled, Cooper figured that however Moldaver survived must've been how she did.

"Coop." Irene croaked.

He looked up from cleaning his revolver and saw her try to move.

"Easy there Starlett, you're pretty banged up."

She winced in pain again and lay back down. "I thought you were dead." She said, weak from the blood loss.

"I should be. So should you."

"Fate had other plans I guess."

Cooper scoffed quietly. She didn't press it, even though she wanted to know if Janey made it.

"You're gonna need some proper medical attention." He said. "Ain't much out here though."

"Eh, it's just a scratch." She joked, swallowing a mouth-full of blood.

Cooper got up and handed her a flask of water, half empty. She took a few sips and handed it back.

"I'm lookin' for Lee, you know where I can find 'er?

"I've been looking for her myself, I'm afraid I can't help you there, I've found nothing but dead ends. The bitch is hard to find even in a fucking desert."

He smiled a little at the very different tone coming out of her mouth than he remembered; she must've been in the wasteland for a little while, at least.

"I'm glad I found you cowboy. You're about the only fond memory I've got left. I needed that right about now."

"I'm not the man you remember."

"Doesn't matter. You've reminded me of something I haven't seen in years."

"And what's that?"

"Kindness."

2077

The doorbell rang and Cooper opened it to find Irene looking remarkably understated compared to her shows, but she still had that aire of grace that she always carried with her no matter where she was.

"Come on in." He smiled, stepping aside for her.

"I can't thank you enough for letting me stay, I know its a lot of ask of someone you just met."

"It's the least I can do."

He closed the door and took her suitcase for her.

Janey appeared with Roosevelt, having been playing in the backyard and Cooper gestured to her.

"Irene, this is my daughter Janey. Janey this is Irene, the friend from work I was telling you about."

"Irene Taylor!?" She said, her eyes sparkling. "I've seen you on TV! Your voice is sooo beautiful! You definitely should have won the award on last month's show."

Irene and Cooper both laughed.

"Looks like you have a fan."

"That's very kind of you." Irene smiled sweetly.

"Janey, why don't you watch some cartoons while I show Irene to her room?"

"Ok." She beamed and sat down with Roosevelt in front of the TV.

Irene followed Cooper to the back of the house where the guest room was and looked at all the family photos as they walked through. Wedding photos, Janey's baby photos, a puppy photo of Roosevelt. When they finally reached the room she felt even more uncomfortable.

"This is you." He said, placing her suitcase on the bed.

"I'm so sorry to put you in this position Mr. Howard, I do appreciate it very much. I didn't know who else to come to."

"Don't worry about it." He smiled warmly. "I'm just glad you decided to leave."

"So am I. You made me realise the cause wasn't worth the abuse, no matter how much I told myself it was. Lee won't be happy but it'll be worth it in the end."

"I'm sure it will."

She smiled softly at him. "I'll let you get back to your daughter. You'll barely know I'm here."

"Nonsense," he said. "You're joining us for dinner, plus I'm sure Janey would love to spend some time with you."

She got choked up a bit at that. Everything she had done since getting into show business had been for other people, someone doing something like this for her was something special.

"Thank you Mr. Howard."

"Cooper." He replied.

2296

Irene lay sleeping and Cooper sat wondering what to do with her.

He couldn't spare any resources, and he didn't need stimpaks, so he had none. Could he carry her to Filly and get her to a doctor? Sure, but that was in the opposite direction of where he was headed, where they were both headed.

It would be more humane to shoot her now to save her the pain, but he couldn't bring himself to do it and it angered him.

"Fuck." He said, getting to his feet and picking up his gun, walking out of the cave in search of supplies.

#cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout #fallout tv #fallout tv show #fallout tv series #fallout amazon #fallout prime #fallout amazon prime #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x oc #cooper howard x fem oc #cooper howard x fem reader #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x fem reader #the ghoul fanfic #cooper howard fanfic #the ghoul fic #cooper howard fic #fanfic #fic #fan fiction

[scrollonso]

idk how it’s gonna sound butttt… a new au where lance is single dad and nando is a stepdad 🥹 i’m dead every time i get to see nando with children GIVE THIS MAN A KID😭

TYSM FOR THIS REQUEST,, rn it's just a little blurb but I might make it a little more once i finish First Kiss 😭 (1.5k words)

Lance pulled into their new driveway, his daughter screaming excitedly behind him

"We're here, Lilah, wanna look at your new room before we take in groceries?" He said, not really meaning the we, a three year old girl wasn't much help.

"Yes, please!" She shouted, signing please on her chest. Lance had made sure to teach her sign language before she learned to properly speak, before she was born he had joined a "mummy and me" facebook group looking for help and that was one of the many things he was told to do.

Lance hummed, turning off the car and going back to take Delilah out of her carseat, helping her step out of the car before heading inside.

It was a gorgeous house in a safe neighbourhood, Lance figured as she got older living in a one bedroom apartment would get harder and harder so as soon as he had the chance he asked his best friend Esteban for help in house hunting and eventually moving the furniture in. Delilah's mom decided she didn't want to be in her life almost right agter giving birth to her, it had been scary, being a single dad at 22, but he had such a great support system and an even greater little girl.

"Come on, daddy" She spoke, snapping him out of his thoughts as she tugged on his pants leg

"Yes, yes, let's go baby" Lance smiled, quick to swoop her up and carry her upstairs to her bedroom, already adorned with all of her favourite things. The walls were painted a pale blue with cloud lights hanging from the ceiling, at the apartment they had before she was always sneaking out to play outside so he hoped making her room feel outside would limit that.

"This is mine, daddy?" She asked, looking away from all the toys, books, and stuffed animals to face her dad

"Yes, princess, all yours" He nodded, not able to help the wide grin on his face as hers lit up

"Thank you, daddy!" She signed again, holding her arms up to her dad to ask for a hug, he was quick to accept, squeezing her tight as she giggled

"You can play up here while I bring in groceries, okay? Then I'll make you lunch" He pulled away, the little girl nodding and running to the toy chest in the corner of her room to see what was in it as Lance made his way downstairs.

He finally finished putting away the gorceries, wandering back upstairs to ask Delilah what she wanted

"Lilah, are you hungry?" He spoke before walking into the room, startled at the emptiness "Lilah?" He called again, now beginning to panic at the absence of his daughter.

Delilah peeked past a tall white fence, eyes locking on a man who was laying down in the sun, he looked like he was sleeping

"Excuse me?" She spoke, the small voice causing the man to open his eyes

"Hello, sweetie" He spoke, sitting up and shooting her a puzzled look, wondering where she came from. He could tell by the change of her expression that she'd never head an accent like his before

"My daddy said laying in the sun causes you to get red and hurt" She spoke matter-of-factly

"Your daddy sounds very smart, where are your mommy and daddy now?" He asked, now a little concerned

"My daddy is in the kitchen, mommy left"

Fernando tried to hide his shock at the bluntness of the little girl, just nodding at her words

"I see, where is your kitchen?"

"In my new house!" She said with emotion for the first time "Me and my daddy just moved in, he painted my walls blue and i have clouds in my rooms sky!"

He couldn't help but smile at the talkative little girl, part of him worried at how quickly she was to be comfortable around a stranger

"Do you remember which house is yours?"

"Uhm..." She trailed off, tapping a finger on her chin before swiftly shaking her head and muttering a nuh-uh

Fernando nodded, standing up from his chair and holding out his hand "Let me help you find it"

"My daddy said I shouldn't go places with strangers"

The Spaniard couldn't help but laugh, this little girl wandered into his backyard and now that he was trying to return her she was worried about him being a stranger

"I pinky promise I'm nice, I just don't want your poor daddy worrying about you, sweetie"

"My daddy isn't poor! My poppy says we have all the money"

"Of course, Sorry for assuming" Fernando smiled down at her, crouching and holding out his hand "Now, how about we get you back to your rich daddy?"

She furrowed her eyebrows, her small thinking face was extremely endearing. She held out her pinky to the strangers hand "Pinky promise you're not mean"

He locked pinkies with her right away, shaking their hands a little bit before standing up "I pinky promise"

"Okay!" She smiled, grabbing onto two of the mans fingers as they walked, Fernando almost not noticing how she was just staring up at him

"You need to look for your daddy, not at me, sweetie"

"You're handsome, do you wanna meet my daddy?"

"Do I-" He laughed, shaking his head at the little girls comment as he picked her up "Let's focus on getting you home"

Lance was horrified, he checked every room in the house before realizing he didn't shut the door after bringing groceries in, leaving the house to see the white gate was open too

"Fuck, oh my god." He muttered under his breath, trying to stop himself from pulling his hair out as he look around the yards and sidewalks nearby. Delilah was smart, she was cautious most of the time so he knew she wouldn't have crossed the street without a hand to hold but he also knew she was way too friendly

"Daddy!" He heard a voice call after what felt like forever, his head turned to the voice and before he knew it he was scooping her up from the strangers arms, hardly acknowledging him

"God, Lilah, You can't do this now that we have a new house, I had no idea where you where."

"I met a nice man, daddy! He's just like those guys you call cute in the movies!"

Lance had to stop himself from covering her mouth, taking a deep breath before turning to the man

"I'm so-" Fuck. Delilah was so right. He was just like the guys he calls cute in the movies, he was gorgeous, Lance almost collapsed at the sight of the brunette man in front of him

"I'm Fernando" The older man spoke, holding a hand out to the young dad "I live two houses down"

"Hi, I'm Lance" He smiled, taking the (audibly) Spanish mans hand with no hesitation "Thank you so much for bringing her back, please don't think badly about me this doesn't usually happen" He tried to laugh it off to hide his embarrassment

"Is okay, she was great company."

"Are your kids older?" Lance asked, figuring that since the man was so amazing with Delilah right away he mustve beem a dad

"I wish, no, Is just me"

"Oh" Lance nodded, hoping his excitement wasn't visible

"Daddy, he's single!" The little girl whispered (very loudly), Fernando smiling at the pair

"Lilah, You can't just-" He began to speak

"Are you-" Fernando started, both of them pausing to let the other speak "Would you want to get coffee or something? Sometime, or not, is okay if no"

Lance laughed, something so charming about the comdination of the mans accent and flustered blabbering "I'd love to, I hope you don't mind if Delilah tags along?"

"Of course, could I have your number? To plan, of course"

"Yes, to plan" Lance smiled, taking the phone Fernando was holding out to him and putting in the numbers "Can't wait, Fernando"

He smiled, nodding at the two before stepping back to leave "I'll see you soon?" He half questioned half stated, Lance begining to respond before Delilah cut him off

"Yes! Bye bye, Nando!"

"Do you like him daddy" Was the first thing out of the girls lips once they got inside, her dads face flushing at the suggestion

"I think its bedtime" He teased, picking her up as she began wiggling in his arms

"Daddy, no!" She giggled, trying to squirm her way away from him "I'm gonna tell Nando to not go out with you if you make me go to sleep!"

"Fine" He groaned, a smile on his face right after, looking forward to whatever was to come with him and the Spaniard (and his little princess)

#f1 #formula 1 #lance stroll #fernando alonso #aston martin #strollonso #ls18 #fa14 #au #single dad #rpf #ff #alternate universe #f1 rpf #real person fiction #fanfic #fan fiction #fluff #single dad au #lance is a dilf #nando is a step dilf #i like the name delilah #lance so spoils her #like shes spoiled rotten #gets everything she wants #and stepdaddy nando spoils her too

[luvvsk2]

helloo,

i wanted to request jjk headcanon , how do you think they would spend time with reader and what they enjoy together. also please make it fluff. thank you

OUU YESS !! thank you for your request !! 🤍🤞

how jjk men like to spend time with you ☄. *. ⋆ :

characters: gojo,geto,nanami,toji

gojo :

-going shopping !! - we all know Gojo is rich. so naturally he likes spending his money on you and bonding with you. -"what do you think of this" you said as you walked out the fitting room. "i really like it! let's buy it" he replied. "how much you asked to the worker "1250 dollars." "yeah sure!" gojo said "no gojo this is too much" you said not wanting to accept it. -another i think is simply going on walks. -we all know gojo is energetic so i think going on walks with you and talking about random ass things is fun to him

geto :

-listening to music with you -any music even if its one of those tiktok ones (fuck me like you mad at me baby, i need a freak to drive me crazy💀😭 pls tell me yk what im talking about) -going to coffee shops -when i look at geto i feel like he loves coffee, specially black coffee, espresso, lattes you know? -"lemme try yours" you asked geto he held his cup out to you, you took a sip instantly regretting it your face churns "its so bitter" "not that bitter, its black coffee what did you expect"he laughed

nanami :

-cooking with you. -nanami is a busy man lets be fair but, cooking i feel like is one of his passions and he enjoys it, he enjoys it even more when its with you. - "darling pass me the salt.", you passed it to him as he shook the salt ,the cap of the salt shaker came off and all the salt went into the food. you looked at him and started laughing. "kento omg" -talking about theoretical scenarios, because he's smart its even better. like "what would you do if there was a zombie apocalypse" shit like that.

toji :

-watching tv. -seems really simple right? well toji is a simple broke middle age guy, and just surfing channels on tv with you in his arms is fun for him. -going to the gym with you -toji's body amazing and working out is one of his passions, so he asks you to come along. "alright y/n try lifting my weights" he says while smirking, his weights are 200 kgs so thats a challenge, you were confident but as soon as you tried, you struggled, "toji! you're making me lift more than you did, i know you secretly put weights on it!" you face scrunching, he starts loosing it laughing, you ran after him trying to hit him.

#fan fiction #fanfic #fem reader #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #anime #fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen fanart #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #toji zenin #fushiguro toji #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #geto suguru #satoru gojo #geto x reader #jjk geto #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #manga

[seiless]

how would romanced astarion & gale handle finding out that someone made tav cry?

(I kept busy so this didn't get posted as quickly as I wanted it to, but... here it is!! Shed tears to be dried by a pair of hotties U V U)

Gale: Like any decent partner, Gale is immediately stunned and heartbroken at the very sight of it. This is of course mixed with disbelief; it was the first time he’d ever seen you in tears.

The leader of their little band of fearless weirdos was crying in their shared tent. He did what made the most sense in that moment; crossed the space in two strides and was right beside you, drawing you into his arms.

Not a word was said. Your hands curled into his tunic, your face pressed to his chest in an attempt to stifle the emotions that overwhelmed you. It troubled him deeply, feeling how fragile you were in that moment.

Always independent, always capable and unwavering…you were the rock that kept everything together, and the one that the others would look to for the next steps. It was easy to forget that you were still a person. You were still fighting your own demons, even if you put the others’ first.

“It’s alright…” His voice was hushed, a low murmur that rumbled in his chest. You shook your head, fingers clenching tighter. “All is well, my love.”

A bitter cough that he was certain was meant to be a laugh escaped you, but you stayed rooted to the spot.

“You don’t even know…what I’m upset about.” Your words were hoarse and trembling. Gale smiled all the same.

“That may be true, but I can assure you there is nothing you are struggling with that cannot be defeated. At the very least, not when I am at your side.” 

He gently pulled you back, thumbing away the tears that slipped through your defenses. It was hard to see you in such a state; to be so fragile, and vulnerable.

It was certainly mortifying in your mind, of which there was no doubt in his. Whether you’d ever admit it or not, he found it adorable to see such a pout on your lips. 

You pressed into his embrace, your nose as close to his heart as you could possibly be. Gale enveloped you in strong arms, questioning nothing and worrying little.

Whatever it was, you could figure it out together. 

So instead he guided you to the bedroll, and drew you into his lap, refusing to let you go for a single second until you were ready to tell him everything.

It was frightening to see your emotions so raw and upset, but relieving to know that his very touch was what could remedy some of your tears. At the very least, he found it a small comfort that whatever had your tears spilling over didn’t seem to be anything life ruining.

That evening would result in your crying yourself to sleep, though the tears had long been reduced to sniffling and the odd hitch of breath. So perhaps tiring yourself out was a better explanation.

Gale kissed your forehead, settling into the thin blankets and holding you beside him, never once letting your form slip from his warmth.

He would gladly accept the role of your champion of comfort; especially knowing you would be the very same for him during his own times of crises.

That night, you dreamed of pompous but  precious wizards..

Astarion: To be fair, he doesn’t mean to barge in when you’re in distress. Rather, he’d heard the soft sniffling from across camp, and when he went to investigate, he found that the tent flap wasn’t latched.

So when he passed through, he felt slightly bad when he saw how your shoulders jumped at the sound of him.

Though that was immediately overrun when the red around your eyes and the tracks of tears became visible.

Astarion’s gaze darkened.

“Who did this?”

“Asta-”

“Who did this to you? I want names.” He crossed the tent and came to his knees before you, grasping your shoulders when you started to sit up.

“No one did a-anything. Not on purpose.” You shook your head, biting down on your lip in an attempt to stifle another sob. You held up a piece of parchment. A letter.

Astarion glanced away from you and took it, quickly skimming over its contents.

“What is this, some sort of threat? What fool would dare send such a thing to my-”

He paused.

‘With deep regret, we inform you that your mother passed away on the evening of Eleint 5.’

The rest of the language was blurred away, blots of tears evident that quickly turned into smears from your fingertips.

“She was ill.” You pushed your tears with the heel of your hand, revealing the missing black ink that was wet along your fingertips. “It’s…one of the reasons I w-was found by the Illithid at all. I was trying to find…t-trying to find a cure.”

“Dear.” 

Astarion set the letter aside, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You shook your head, lips pursed against the threat of another cry.

“I knew…I k-knew she didn’t have much time left. We both did. She thought it foolish to try and find the medicine. She wanted me to stay with her instead. Enjoy e-every moment. But Father would be there, so…so I-I didn’t think…”

“May I hold you?”

You trailed off at his question, nodding weakly. Astarion did not find hesitation in his movements when you fell into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. He drew you into his lap, cradling your head  gently as he shifted, propping himself against the chest filled with humble belongings.

Astarion didn’t remember his parents. He didn’t know if they had a strong bond. But you had spoken enough about your own that it was clear your relationship with yours was deep and loving.

To not be there when your mother passed…surely, it must have been devastating.

“I should never h-have left that house…I never should’ve left my mother behind, she…I didn’t even get to say goodbye-”

“I’m sorry.” He spoke into your hair, holding you as close as he possibly could. He could offer very little more in the way of comforting words. 

What was he supposed to say? Were there any words that could soothe your broken heart (let alone words from his mouth that would hold any meaning).

It was impossible for you to even formulate a response, anymore. You shook, silently, fighting the urge to out and out bawl. Not here. Not like this.

And so he held you. Astarion squeezed you close, refusing to let you go. It wasn’t going to happen. 

He didn’t know how long the two of you remained there; he lost track of time. Eventually, your breathing fell into an uneasy, but mercifully slow, rhythm.

You’d cried yourself to sleep.

The vampire was at a loss; it was hard enough to navigate a grieving partner when the other had emotional intelligence enough to handle such difficult things.

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do beyond offer condolences and some sort of physical comfort. 

You hadn’t turned him away yet, so…perhaps he had made the right call. He would hold you until the wee hours of morning, when you finally came  back to life from crying yourself to sleep.

Of course, you made sure to give him positive reinforcement with a tender, trembling kiss that morning. 

It was exactly what you needed, you promised, and you were beyond grateful that he was by your side while you processed everything to come.

Not that he needed the praise…he would remain at your side regardless…no matter what would come.

#astarion #gale #baldurs #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #baldurs gate gale #astarion x tav #gale x tav #astarion ancunin #gale dekarios #fan fiction #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 fanfiction

[shiorimakibawrites]

Cat Man Do - Part I (Daredevil Fan Fic)

This started out as a one-shot but has just kept growing. It will be at least two parts long now.

Cat Man Do

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Secondary Pairings: Foggy Nelson x Marci Stahl, implied Karen Page x Frank Castle Word Count: 9600 Summary: Matt Murdock is having a bad night. He has been turned into a cat with a blizzard is coming in. Lucky for him, you came walking by. And you love cats. Warnings: Animal transformation, idiots in love, unresolved sexual tension, spicy dream (voyeurism kink, office sex, fingering, dirty talk), referenced sexual acts (female receiving oral sex, , fingering, female masturbation, hand-job, PIV sex, office sex) General Masterlist Matt Murdock Masterlist Tag List: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza, @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment, @bellaxgiornata, @flynnethenerd Also posted on AO3

Part 1

Nothing about the situation seemed all that unusual. Man putting his hands where they were very much not wanted. Victim’s tearful pleading only being met with a slap and a harshly whispered demand to shut up. Sour odor of fear. Coopery scent of blood through it didn’t smell like human blood. Herbs, both familiar ones used in cooking but a few that he didn’t recognize. The only peculiarity was the scent of ozone clinging to the man.

Matt yanked the man away from his victim who, rather sensibly, took the opportunity to flee. At first, he thought that the fight would be short. Very short. The man obviously didn’t know how to fight. He heard the distinctive cracking of bone, then the man desperately shouted something. The smell of ozone increased and suddenly there was . . . something between him and the man. Something he didn’t recognized – hitting it felt like the oddest combination of a pillow, cling film and static electricity. Whatever it was softened his punches to the point that he doubted the man was even feeling them.

Before he could puzzle that mystery out, the man began to speak again. Matt didn’t recognize the language but he recognized the cadence of a chant, the anticipatory menace. The sharp scent of ozone began to rise again. Pressure not unlike the air right before a lightning strike raised the hair on his body. Instinct screamed danger, threat. He couldn’t say why but he just knew that he couldn’t let this man finish whatever he was saying . . .

The man’s inexperience with fighting came back to bit him. Whatever he was doing to protect his torso, it didn’t extend down to his legs. Matt dropped down to use a low kick to sweep his legs out from under him. The follow-up throw kick to his head showed that he was also too stupid to protect his head. The man hit the ground hard and didn’t move.

Matt listened, then nodded to himself. Unconscious. Good. He opened a pouch on his belt and removed some zip ties. He secured the man, then send off a quick call to 911. He scaled the fire escape of the closest building and started putting some distance between himself and those approaching sirens.

He decided to call it a night. It was after one in the morning. He had work tomorrow. Besides there had been very little crime tonight. Probably too cold. And a big snowstorm had been predicted. When they closed up the office, Foggy said sky was completely covered with heavy dark clouds that made the twilight almost as dark as nighttime. Which matched with the shifts in pressure that he associated with oncoming storms. The smell of snow had been building all night. It hadn’t started snowing yet but it would any minute now.

But before he turned in, he would do a loop to make sure his people were safe and sound. One by one, he checked off the list. Maggie and the others at St. Agnes, Brett, Foggy and Marci, Jessica, and Karen. All good. Last but certainly not least was you, the assistant that he and Foggy had hired so Karen could concentrate on law school, by the virtue that your apartment being rather close to his own.

Matt had almost forgotten about the oddities of his last encounter when he started feeling . . . off. Lightheaded, dizzy, like he had gotten clocked in the head without his helmet on. Except he hadn’t, not tonight. Or other time recently. At first the feeling was mild, easily shrugged off. But soon it could no longer be ignored. When his world on fire dangerously flickered and he misjudged the distance between two buildings, he decided that maybe walking on the ground would be safer.

It was in the sense that he was no longer at risk of falling six or more stories. But he was so dizzy, it felt like the ground was swaying under his feet. It was nauseating. Worse, his world on fire was flickering dangerously. It was hard to tell where he was, where the buildings were, where the sidewalk ended . . . He took out his billy clubs, extended and snapped them together. It was too short to really substitute for his cane but it would do until he could get somewhere safer.

It took far longer than he was comfortable with but he managed to orient himself. He knew where he is. It was the faint odor of old smoke that helped clue him in. That building that was torched this summer. Not far from his apartment but another wave of dizziness warned him that he wouldn’t make it that far. But your apartment was very close. There was only one building between his location and your building. He would probably make it before he passed out.

This was not at all how he wanted to tell you about Daredevil but there was nothing he could do about that.

Placing his hand on the burnt building to help keep him oriented, he walked toward. He had just reached the corner when a new sensation arose. Sudden, burning pain. He bit down on his lip, trying not to scream. He collapsed, letting out a scream as he felt his bones start to bent and twist like he was doll being pulled apart by an angry child. Then everything went still and silent . . .

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You were walking home. It was later than you preferred to be out. Much later. Especially when you had to work the next day. But your best friend’s boyfriend had broken up with her. Via Twitter. So she needed someone to bring over the ice cream and the booze. So you ignored the weather reports of the big snowstorm and headed out. First to the store, then to her place.

You held her while she cried. You listened and nodded while she vented and swore off men. You both ate way too much ice cream. You didn’t ended up drinking much. Mostly because you’d rather not be hangover at work. But also because the store hadn’t much selection in the booze department – apparently the delivery truck hadn’t shown up. So said booze was limited to one six-pack of wine coolers and a good-sized bottle of peppermint schnapps.

Which wasn’t ideal. Especially since your bestie didn’t really like peppermint schnapps. Said it always tasted too much like mouthwash for her. Which was fair. But after downing three of the wine coolers to your one, she decided to give the schnapps another chance . . . it might be the wine coolers and the wine she finished earlier talking but she said it wasn’t half bad.

You had a little but found peppermint too strong of a flavor all on its own. The mint-chocolate chip ice cream was more your speed.

You loved your bestie but you were glad that she had finally fallen asleep. She had offered to let you stay at her place. But she snoozed like a chainsaw when she was drunk. Also you had tried sleeping on that couch before. It had been uncomfortable. There was a broken something or other in the middle that had poked you in the kidneys all night. So you appreciated the offer but no thank you.

You were walking as fast as you could. Which wasn’t very fast. The sidewalk was rather precarious right now. It had snowed last week. Almost all of the snow had turned into gray slush but it was cold enough that several patches had frozen into near-invisible puddles. Puddles that were very slick.

You had slipped and fallen several times this week. You had started carrying clean, dry clothes in your work bag so you didn’t have to sit in wet clothes all day. Your poor butt had more than one bruise. It would have more bruises but if your boss was nearby when you slipped, he caught you.

Your very hot boss Matt. Not that your other boss, Foggy, wasn’t pretty. He was. Just in a totally different way. But the big factor was that Foggy was engaged, to someone he very obviously loved dearly. You weren’t that kind of girl. But Matt was single. Therefore you were free to admire his good looks and daydream about him all you wanted.

Which you did. Often. Maybe too much. You were pretty sure, with the exception of Matt himself, that everyone who frequented the office had caught you checking out his ass. It wasn’t your fault. He had the best looking ass in the tri-state area. Every suit he wore flattered that ass. He also, quite unfairly, bought shirts that were a size too small. The buttons strained to contain those big muscles . . .

‘Stop it,’ you scolded yourself. Walking at one in the morning was not the time to start daydreaming about your boss and speculating that he could hold you up against the wall while he . . .

You shook your head, feeling yourself flush despite the cold pinching your cheeks. You needed to keep your mind on the here and now, eyes and ears alert for any signs of trouble. You might be only a short distance from home. This might be Hell’s Kitchen where the Devil prowled nighttime streets for nefarious characters but . . . that didn’t mean you should act recklessly. Something could still happen. And while being saved by Daredevil sounded very exciting, it also sounded really scary.

A cry pierced the night air. It sent your heart racing, hands gripping the strap of your backpack while your eyes frantically darted around trying to locate the source of the cry. You couldn’t see anything. The street was eerily deserted for Manhattan, even for this time of night. Maybe it was too cold. The whistling wind was biting, even in your thick winter coat. Even when the air was still, it was beyond frigid. If it was above freezing, you’d eat your hat. Without mustard.

You kept looking but it was so dark. There had been some kind of problem with the streetlights on your block this week. The news said something about a short. You hadn’t really been listening. But the end result was that at least half the streetlights weren’t working. The building that had gutted by a fire was black and silent, looming over the street like giant gargoyle. Many of the windows in the surrounding buildings were dark. The few that were lit did very little to illuminate the darkness.

Then you heard it again. But this time you recognized the noise. It was cat making that distressed yowl. And it sounded like it was coming from the side of that burned building. While the building gave you all of the creeps, you loved animals. Better than you liked most people. You couldn’t just leave it here. Out here in the freezing cold with a blizzard on the way at best. Hurt or trapped at worst.

But to find that poor animal, you needed more light.

You reached into your bag and took out your phone. Dead. The battery was so low that the phone didn’t even try to turn on. You had forgotten to charge it. Again. What were you going to do . . . then you remembered the little flashlight on your key-chain. Something your mom had gotten you when she learn you were moving to big, scary New York City. It was a nice gesture but the cheap thing wasn’t very bright. But some light was better than no light. You pulled your keys out of your pocket and gripped the flashlight in your hand. With a soft click, it turned on.

As expected, it didn’t do much to pierce the gloom. But you walked toward the building anyway. The building looked even creepier and emptier up close. The crack-crunch of your boots on the thin sheets of ice and salt felt inordinately loud to you. Which only made your heart beat faster. You were starting to feel like you were in a horror movie. One of the dumb girls who ignores all the obvious signs of danger and gets chopped into pieces with an ax or something. Or one of the those people in the cold opening in an episode of Supernatural, going into creepy building blithely unaware that they just made themselves dinner . . .

Something crashed to the ground with a loud metal clang. You shrieked, wildly swinging around your flashlight. What . . . then you saw it. A rat messing with a can below a window with a row of similar cans on the still . . . You squinted, cans of food. The kind that wasn’t particularly tasty but cheap and filling. Both of which was more important than flavor if you didn’t have much money. And infinitely better than no food at all.

“It’s just a rat,” you told yourself. “Calm down.”

As if in answer, the cat meowed again. It sounded close. You looked around . . . garbage bags that had been torn open and their contents scattered, piled up frozen slush, a dumpster. Wait, there was a flicker of movement on the other side of the dumpster. Giving a silent prayer that it wasn’t another rat (or something worse), you walked over. As you got closer, your nose wrinkled. The smell wasn’t nearly as ripe as it would be during the summer but it was by no means a pleasant aroma.

By your efforts were rewarded. On the other side and slightly behind the dumpster was a cat. You crouched down, not wanting to loom over the animal and scare it. It didn’t look very frightened right now – it wasn’t puffed up, it’s ears were perked up, or hissing at you. But you’d like to keep it that way. In your experience, a scared cat was a biting cat.

You looked over the cat as best you could. It didn’t look hurt. Just cold and a little wet. Probably wouldn’t need a vet tonight. Beautiful cat, it looked a lot like a Havana Brown with a thick-looking coat of brown fur and that muscular little body. Smaller ears through you were used to seeing. All the Havanas you had seen had those adorably large ears like a Siamese.

The cat remained calm during this inspection, just sitting on something leathery and dark red lying on the ground.

“Hello there,” you said, your voice soft and low. Animals might not understand words but they did understand tone. You carefully extended your hand. “I’m not going to hurt you. You don’t have to scratch me.”

The cat meowed but allowed you to touch it. You ran your hands over the cat. It didn’t react like your searching hands had found anything tender. Still you frowned.

This cat looked cared for. Had obviously been socialized from a young age. Healthy coat and well-fed all added up to beloved pet. If it . . . he, you corrected after another look, was a stray, he hadn’t been one for very long.

“Did you get lost?” you asked the cat. “Or did someone abandon you out here in the cold?”

Despite your best efforts to avoid, you couldn’t keep the anger out of your voice at that second possibility. Nights this cold could easily be fatal, even more so with that blizzard rolling in. especially for a pet that was used to warm shelter during harsh weather. You just couldn’t understand the sheer cruelty of doing something like that. If someone didn’t want a cat anymore, fine. There were far more humane options than abandoning them to die in the winter streets.

Well lost or abandoned, you weren’t leaving this little beauty out here to freeze. “It’s awfully cold out here, kitty cat. Did you want to come home with me? At least for the night?”

Of course, your only answer was more meows. But they sounded positive so you decided to take them as a yes. You didn’t have a carrier with you. But your backpack would work as substitute. You opened up your coat just enough to remove your scarf which you piled into the bottom. Your previous fur babies liked something soft to snuggle into when transported like this. It would get your scarf dirty but it was washable.

But when you placed the cat in the backpack and tried to zip it, the cat jumped out. It didn’t run away. Just went over and sat on the red thing. After this happened two more times, you let out an exasperated sigh. Looking down at the cat, looking up at you from its apparently beloved red thing. Maybe you should purrito him . . . then you did a double-take. Blinked. Rubbed your eyes. But it didn’t change.

You had only ever seen it in grainy photos on the news or in the papers. But you still recognized it. The red leather armor of Daredevil. You supposed it could be a replica. Every hero in this city had fans who did cosplay. Daredevil was no different. But if this was a costume, someone had spent a lot of time and money making it.

Your earlier frown returned. No fan who had gone to all that effort would leave this by a dumpster to get ruined. And if it wasn’t a replica but the real thing . . . you couldn’t think of why Daredevil would leave his suit by a dumpster either. Like the costume, leaving it outside in this wet weather could severely damage it.

“Curious and curiousier,” you murmured to yourself. A look uncovered the horned helmet, gloves, and armed boots nearby. Not the sticks, however. There was a holster on leg where they ought to be. You cast your flashlight around and spied something red laying a short distant away. You went there and discovered the missing sticks.

Or rather a staff since it seemed to be be only one. It looked rather long for that thigh holster and you could have sworn there was supposed to be two . . . but maybe you were wrong. You never actually seen him. Just pictures. And Daredevil didn’t exactly stand still in excellent lighting to be photographed with a high-quality camera.

You picked it up and frowned. The staff seemed rather heavy. It wasn’t so heavy that you couldn’t swing it around easily but it was weighty. A person could do some real damage with this. It was not a prop. It was a real weapon.

“Holy shit,” you said, staring at the staff with more than a little awe. Because as crazy as it sounded, you were starting to think this was really Daredevil’s staff and that was really his suit back there. But you had little time to bask in that wonder. Because a big flake of snow landed on the stick. Followed by another and another. You looked up.

It had started snowing. You hurried back over to the suit, carrying the staff. You pulled your scarf out of your backpack, looping it around your neck for the moment. You picked up the suit and started getting into your pack. Assuming he didn’t leave it here in purpose, Daredevil was going to want this back and probably would appreciate not having it damaged by the wet weather.

How you were going to get to him was a problem for Future You.

Also it seemed like the cat wasn’t coming without the suit. Why he was so obsessed with it was another mystery for Future You to untangle. When you weren’t outside in a blizzard. You managed to fit most of it into your pack, which was a little tricky since you couldn’t put down the flashlight but you managed. You zipped it closed, glad that you had grabbed your hiking pack earlier. You’d never be able to fit this much of the suit in your regular pack. The staff didn’t fit. You’d have to carry it. Hopefully you wouldn’t run into anyone before reaching your apartment.

You propped the stick against the side of the dumpster before swing the pack onto your shoulders. You left the hip belt undone. Daredevil’s suit wasn’t anywhere near as heavy as the full pack for a long hike.

“Okay, Trouble,” you said, reaching for the cat. “Let’s go.”

The cat meowed but allowed you to pick him up and place him against your chest. His front paws rested on your shoulder while you supported his body with your arm. The hand was still holding your key-chain flashlight. Which would make holding onto him if he got squirmy difficult. You gave him a stern look. “No jumping out of my arms or being a wiggle worm, Trouble. Or I will purrito you with my scarf.”

He meowed again. It sounded like an objection.

“Don’t meow me, mister. You are clearly trouble, trouble, trouble,” you said, almost singing those last words. You blamed your best friend. I Knew You Were Trouble was one of her favorite songs. Therefore you had heard it several times tonight and the lyrics were kinda stuck in your head.

The cat made a grumpy noise but stayed where he was and didn’t scratch. So you just laughed as you collected the staff and headed toward home.

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Carried in your arms, Matt suppressed an irritated huff. He wasn’t upset with you. He was upset about the situation.

He wasn’t entirely sure how he had been turned into cat. He had an idea. That scumbag he left knocked out and left tied up for the police. Even if the only explanation for that thing that shielded the man from his blows and turning him into a cat was magic. Danny had sworn up and down that magic was real. His heart had been steady as drum but Matt hadn’t entirely believed him.

Or rather he didn’t want to believe him. People developing random powers – sometimes from exposure to chemicals or radiation – and aliens was enough weirdness for one planet. Earth didn’t need magic to be real too.

But Matt tried not ignore reality when it smacked him in the face. Someone had spoke some words and now he was cat. Magic was real. He would accept that and hope that other stuff straight out of a fantasy or horror novels weren’t also real. The last thing he needed running around his city was vampires. Or dinosaurs. Or something equally ridiculous.

He also had no idea how he was going to get himself back to being a human. His only working theory was that maybe, just maybe, Danny could do something. Or would know someone who could do something about it. It was long shot but he was the only one that Matt knew who knew anything about magic.

Assuming he could get in contact with Danny in the first place. Rather big assumption there. Until and unless he could, his only other option was wait and see if the spell wore off on its own. Matt didn’t like this plan. For one, he had absolutely no idea if the spell would wear off at all. Or if does, how long that would take.

A few hours would be ideal but when was Matt ever that lucky?

No, it was much more likely that he would be stuck like this for days. If not longer. Foggy was going to worry. And when he couldn’t find or contact Matt, he was going to get scared. And when he checked Matt’s apartment and found the suit gone along with Matt, he was going to assume the worst.

He hated the thought of putting Foggy through that. But there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t turn himself back. He couldn’t talk. These paws couldn’t hold a paw. He might be able to type but unless you had a braille keyboard or a refreshable braille display, he couldn’t tell what keys he was pushing. Randomly hitting keys was unlikely to produce a coherent message that would clue you into the fact he wasn’t a cat.

The only semi-positive he could find about this situation was that you had been walking near enough to the dumpster he had collapsed behind to hear his meowing. Through Matt couldn’t say he was thrilled that you were out this late. It was dangerous. Granted, most criminals had seemingly opted not to be out in the freezing cold but not all.

His heart had lodged in his throat when you had shrieked. His mind racing how he had missed someone beside you being outside and nearby. What was he going to do, he couldn’t protect you like this . . .

It was immense relief to discover it was just a rat.

But despite his desire to get yourself somewhere warmer and safer, he was unwilling to leave his suit behind. One person impersonating him and slaughtering innocent people was already one too many for his tastes.

Furthermore replacing it would be a headache. Jacobson wouldn’t be happy to learn the suit he had designed and made for Matt had been left behind a dumpster. Which was fair. He wouldn’t like someone treating his work in such a chevalier matter either. He might fix or replace it but in the meantime, Matt would be back to the black suit.

Which tended to make Claire and Foggy unhappy. They preferred he fight crime wearing something more protective. Which Matt couldn’t really argue with. Nor that the red suit was warmer than the black. Which was nice this time of year but not so nice in August.

He had felt a little silly hopping in and out of your backpack like that but it accomplished his goal. The suit hadn’t been left behind.

You had recognized the suit, of course. And seemed to realize that it was the real thing, not one of the costumes his fans made. Well, Foggy claimed he had fans who dressed up like him for something called Super Con. He hadn’t been lying but . . . why? Didn’t people find him scary? Too violent? Why not someone nicer? Like Spider-Man? Sure, he was snarky and a smartass kid but otherwise he oozed friendliness . . .

Warm air hitting his fur startled him but not as much as realizing that he was coated in snow. He hadn’t even noticed. Had he really been that much in his head? Apparently.

“No jumping down yet, Trouble,” you said to him, the arm holding him shifting a little. “We’re not quite home yet. I will still purrito you.”

Purrito? That was second time you had said that word. He didn’t know what it meant and wasn’t sure he wanted to.

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Closing and locking your door behind you was a relief. Besides the fact that you were carrying was likely the real Daredevil suit (which was probably illegal in some fashion), the snow was really coming down. Even the distance between the dumpster and your building was very short, it was getting close to whiteout conditions by the time you arrived.

You propped the staff against the wall before kneeling down to let the cat go. He didn’t go far. Curious. Cats often hide when in unfamiliar places with unfamiliar people. Despite the fact he left you carry him without any trouble, you still kinda expected the cat to make a beeline for under your couch. Or your bed. But nope, just sat at the edge of entrance way, in a growing puddle of melting snow.

You quickly took off your pack and winter gear. The pack, the coat, and gloves were both waterproof so they were more or less fine. But your scarf and hat were just as wet as the cat. You’d have to hang them up in the bathroom to drip dry. Later. First, you needed to get the cat dry. Then get both of you warm.

After taking off your boots, you went and grabbed a towel from the stack still sitting on the coffee table. You had been in the middle of putting away your laundry – something along with folding it that you often procrastinated – when your best friend had called crying. You checked but the cat still hadn’t moved from his spot. You walked over to him and knelt down.

“Let’s get you dry,” you said and started towel-drying him. He was remarkably tolerate of this process. Marshmallow (may she rest in peace) would have been singing you the song of her people. Despite the fact, as a Persian, she had been groomed literally her entire life. Pumpkin or Oreo (may they rest in peace) would have tried to fight with the towel.

You had long ago developed the habit of talking to your cats. It made your apartment feel less lonely. So you didn’t think anything of telling him how much better behaved he was compared to those three of your previous fur babies.

“Trying to prove you aren’t trouble, trouble, trouble?” you asked. The cat meowed as if in answer. You laughed and checked on his coat. It was as dry as you could get it without using a blow dryer. But with the exception of Marshmallow, you had yet to meet a cat who didn’t try to run away from the thing making the scary, painfully loud noise.

And that was because Marshmallow couldn’t hear the scary noise. To her, it just warm air blowing on her which she had seemed to find wonderful.

Despite all that drama, you missed Marshmallow, Pumpkin and Oreo. Maybe it was time for new furry friend. Maybe this one, you thought, petting the cat’s fur. It was soft as velvet. In the better light of your apartment, you could see the reddish tones to the over dark brown color.

“If you don’t already have a home,” you said, thinking out loud. “Maybe I should call you Cinnamon. It matches with the color of your coat. But Trouble is so just perfect . . .”

The newly dubbed Trouble meowed. You laughed again. You couldn’t help it. He sounded so grumpy.

After another moment of consideration, you decided against the blow dryer. Thanks to the thickness of his coat, he hadn’t gotten wet down to the skin. He probably wouldn’t get matted if you let him air dry for the rest.

You mopped up the puddle on the floor with the same towel, then hung it up in the bathroom along with your hat and scarf. You walked deeper into the apartment, into your bedroom. There you retrieved your heating pad, the comforter from your bed, and one of the extra blankets from the top of the closet. It was time for part two – getting warmed up.

You carried the load out to the living room. The comforter was sat on one cushion but you made a little nest with the heating pad and blanket on the adjoining seat. Trouble seemed pretty comfortable being close to you but you couldn’t assume that he was a lap cat. You turned on the pad and went back to him

He still hadn’t moved very away from the entrance. Peculiar. You’d think a cat this confident would have started exploring. Cats are curious. Maybe he was more nervous than you thought. Through you’d think a nervous cat would be hiding somewhere. But Trouble wasn’t hiding and he didn’t run away from you. And you picked him up, his body wasn’t stiff. No tension in the muscles. He didn’t go limp like a Ragdoll but was still relaxed in your hands.

Hmmm . . . maybe his (previous) home was one where he regularly met strangers? Like he was a shop cat or something like that. Or his (previous) owner worked somewhere that allowed people to bring in their pets as long as they didn’t cause a disruption? Or traveled regularly like a show cat. He was pretty enough for a show cat. Any of those might explain why Trouble seemed so comfortable with a stranger in a strange place.

Or maybe he was just a people cat. Each cat was an individual after all.

You placed Trouble down in the nest. He didn’t immediately jump off. Which had been a possibility. Cats often didn’t like things that weren’t their idea. But this cat seemed willing to explore the nest instead of rejecting it outright. Giving everything a sniff, feeling the blanket under his paws. Not quite making biscuits but close.

Judging by the purring, Trouble seemed to be enjoying himself.

You would have loved to keep watching but you wanted something hot to drink. Normally you’d make coffee but it was already stupid late. Not the time to start drinking something with caffeine. So herbal tea it was. While the water heated, you remembered that you needed to charge your phone. But after that brief detour, you started shifting through your tin of herbal teas . . . what sounded good . . . you picked out the one calling itself Apple Spice.

You poured the water over the tea bag and enjoyed the rising aroma as the tea seeped. You couldn’t remember which spices were supposed to be in this tea. But it smelled like apple pie so you’d guess mostly cinnamon and nutmeg. Tasted more like apple cider than pie but you still enjoyed it. You carried your mug over the couch.

You sat the mug down on the coffee table for a moment so you could wrap yourself in the comforter and sit down. You pulled your legs up onto the couch under the comforter, shifting until you were sitting cross-legged. You leaned toward and grabbed the mug.

You had only taken a few sips before you felt paws on your leg. You looked down at Trouble. He was looking up at you beseechingly.

You smiled and lifted the edge of the comforter. “Come here, Trouble.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He crawled onto your lap, circling a few times before settling down. The low purr only got louder when your hand couldn’t resist the urge to pet. And scratch him behind the ears and under the chin. Despite the name you had given him, Trouble really was such a sweetheart. How could anyone abandon him on the streets to die? You just couldn’t imagine it . . .

‘Maybe,’ you thought. ‘It wasn’t on purpose. Maybe something happened to his humans . . .’

You yawned. You still didn’t know how Daredevil tied into this abandoned (or lost) cat. It was possible that was just a coincidence. That both Trouble and the suit just happened to be in the same place. But maybe the suit smelled familiar to the cat . . . maybe this was Daredevil’s cat . . .

.

“What would Daredevil name a cat?” you murmured to yourself. “Lucy Fur? Holy Terror? The Lord of Felines? Hiss the Devil-Cat?

A soft meow jerked you back to alertness before you could spill tea on yourself. But if you were falling asleep sitting up, you should put that mug down. You had drunk most of it. It was fine. You sat down the mug, leaned your head against the back of the couch. You just needed to rest your eyes. In a few minutes you’d tidy up, start unraveling those mysteries . . .

Just a few minutes . . .

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Matt listened as you fell into a deep sleep and contemplated life’s little ironies. When he had pictured laying on your lap, this was not the scenario he had in mind. It had been more like using your lap as a pillow while your hands ran through his hair. Sometimes the fantasy was a lazy afternoon where you two were wearing comfortable clothes and simply enjoying each other’s company.

Sometimes the fantasy turned dirty. One where the only clothing you were wearing was a shirt and panties. And he was unable to resist being so close to your core. Kissing and touching until you were squirming and his nose was filled with the scent of your arousal. Then he’d slide off the couch, then peeled off those panties hiding his prize. He’d kneel between your spread thighs and . . .

He shook his head. He couldn’t think about that. It was never going to happen. Before, he would have had a chance. You were attracted to him. More over, he had once (unintentionally) overheard you telling your friends that you liked him. In more ways in one. One of those was the ‘I want him to fuck me on his desk’ way. Your words, not his. And Matt would be liar if he said he hadn’t thought about exactly the same thing. Imagined your soft skin under his hands and your pretty moans in his ear while he buried himself deep inside you . . .

‘Never going to happen,’ he reminded himself. Even through you had also made it clear in that talk with your friends that you always dreamed being with him like (again quoting) ‘one of those disgusting adorable couples who snuggle every chance they get and give each other forehead kisses.’

But in his experience, people either interested in Matt Murdock or the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Not both. Never both. He didn’t expect you to be any different. Not once you knew that mild-mannered blind attorney Matt Murdock was Daredevil.

You were going to find out. You were too intelligent not to figure out that something was going on with your boss. You probably already had some questions. He knew you hadn’t missed those days when he had injuries that couldn’t be hidden by his day suit. Even when his injuries were completely hidden, you had noticed that he was moving wrong and asked if he was alright. So far you hadn’t questioned his excuses but he didn’t think you entirely believed them either.

Sooner or later, you weren’t going to placated by those (he was told rather flimsy) excuses. You’d want the truth. Perhaps you would draw your own conclusions about what was going on with him. Become worried about addiction or abuse. Perhaps you would confronted him about it – you were rather shy but concern for others seemed to bring out your courage.

This incident would drop all kinds of clues into your hands. Especially if you got the chance to inspect his suit more closely. He didn’t have his name sewn into the collar or anything as obvious as that. But his burner phone was in one of the pouches. Finding Foggy and Karen in the contacts was going to give you all kinds of questions.

He doubted you would make the leap that the cat you had rescued was Daredevil, rather than his pet cat or something. Which was understandable. If he was in your shoes, it certainly wouldn’t be his first theory. Or his second. He was living it and he was having difficulty believing it.

At least this time he had time to prepare for the upcoming conversation. Judging from past history, it was going to be unpleasant – yelling, tears, suspicions that he was more or less faking his disability. Followed by new distrust warring with previous affection. If he was lucky, enough of that affection would survive. And if that luck continued, you would accept his nature and agree to remain friends.

If he was unlucky . . .

And if he was very lucky, you’d break the pattern. You’d accept him for who he was, man and devil. The discovery of his darkness wouldn’t kill your attraction to him. You’d say yes when he asked you out, the first date of many . . .

Through Foggy claimed he was already dating you. Which no, he wasn’t. He would know if he had asked you out and you had agreed. And you would have kissed, at least, by now if you were dating. Foggy had rolled his eyes and muttered something along the lines of ‘Oh great, both of them are idiots.’

That aside . . . Matt knew he would never be that lucky. It was a beautiful dream. But that’s all it was. A dream. It was far more likely that he was going to be stuck as a cat for the rest of his life.

‘Through,’ he thought as he started to fall asleep. ‘Being your cat wouldn’t be so bad . . .’

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You let out a frustrated whine.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear, his deep voice rich as honey. “You don’t want anyone to walk in and see you like this, do you?”

Like this meaning on your boss’s lap with your skirt hiked up around your waist, your legs splayed wide so anyone who walked in that door would get a good look at your panties. That wasn’t only thing they’d get an eyeful of. Your blouse was unbuttoned, the cups of your bra pushed down to expose your breasts. One of your boss’s large hands was fondling a breast, rolling the taut nipple between his fingers. His other hand was teasing your covered cunt, pressing far too gentle and fleeting touches to yourclit.

“Or is that exactly what you want? For someone to see you like this? Did you want everyone to know? That I’m touching you like this?”

You squirmed, feeling your face flush worse than it already was. The hand on your breast gave it one last squeeze before sliding down to grip your opposite hip.

“I think you do. You want someone to see how wet you are. For them to know how eager this pussy is for my cock.”

He pushed himself upward, a pale mimicryof thrusting you craved. But it did remind you of the hard, eager cock pressed tightly against your ass. It would be so easy. Just take off your underwear and let him get his pants off. Or at least enough of his pants off to free that cock. Your cunt clenched desperately. You didn’t care if he fucked you in this chair or on his desk. Just as long as he was inside you . . .

“Or even just my fingers.”

Fingers hooked around panties, pulled them away from your cunt. A single finger ran through your folds, coating itself in your slick. Tracing the entrance before the tip dipped inside. But rather than sinking deeper, it withdrew. Before you could protest, it dipped back in. Then back out. Again. And again. Always just the tip of his finger. Nothing more. You needed more. You tried to thrust up. But the muscular arm across your torso with its hand gripping your hip kept you pinned against him. All you could do was squirm . . .

“Matt,” you moaned, burying your burning face against his neck. “Please . . .”

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

You jolted upright. You were trying to get to your feet before what had woken you even registered. Unfortunately for your dignity, your comforter had gotten twisted around your legs so your attempt only resulted in you falling on the floor. More fortunate you managed to avoid smacking your head against the coffee table. As you tried to get yourself loose of your own comforter, you sleepily wondered why you were sleeping in the living room.

Then everything came flooding back. The visit . . . the cat . . . the suit . . . the dream . . . you felt your face flush. Then you realized what had woken you up. Your phone was ringing. As you got yourself to your feet, you muttered unkind things about the phone. It had shattered the dream just as it was getting really good. And the place between your legs throbbing with need. It was tempting to ignore your phone in favor of slipping your hand inside your underwear . . .

But in the end, responsibility won and you got your phone. It had gone to voice mail before you got to it. You unlocked it and checked the phone ID. Foggy. Why would Foggy be calling you . . . then the time registered.

Your heart almost stopped. The office had opened two hours ago. You were late! Your fingers frantically hit the call back, praying that you hadn’t just gotten fired. You needed this job . . .

Foggy’s cheerful hello was a promising start.

“Sorry, I know I’m late,” you started before Foggy interrupted you.

“No, you aren’t. The office is closed today.”

“Huh?” You said, trying to remember Foggy or Matt saying anything about that yesterday. You couldn’t remember . . . but your brain didn’t exactly work before its’ morning caffeine hit. And thinking about Matt only made you think about the dream. Which made the wet heat between your legs even worse. “Why?”

“Because there is roughly three feet of snow? With more still coming down? And high winds that have already knocked out power in parts of Manhattan and might do the same here any minute now?”

You immediately went to the window and peered out. You didn’t have the best view but it was as Foggy reported. Snow piled high on the streets below while more swirled across the window, day not looking not much brighter than twilight despite already being mid-morning . . . “Wow, you aren’t kidding about the weather.”

“I never kid about the weather,” Foggy said with mock seriousness. “The city powers that be don’t recommend going out in that mess. And even if they did, I’m not walking in that for anything less than a life or death emergency. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” you said.

“I called you earlier but you didn’t answer and didn’t call back. I just wanted to make sure that you knew not to come today. Probably tomorrow too. More depends on how long this storm last and how long it takes to get things running again.”

And to check that you were alright. Both of your bosses were worry-warts. Matt was worse than Foggy in that regard. Always got that worried furrow in his brow when you were going to be walking home alone, right before he offered to walk with you. Often you accepted. Mostly because it gave you an excuse to spent more time with him.

And he knew all these little hole-in-the-wall restaurants with the most amazing food . . . Through whenever you talked about those little side-trips, everyone – your friends, Foggy, Karen, your mom – always asked you if you were sure that Matt wasn’t your boyfriend . . .

Yes, you were sure. Those weren’t dates. If they had been, you would have been kissing Matt. And you definitely wouldn’t have been able to resist having sex with him this long if you were dating. So they were just a side-trip taken with your friend and employer.

“Okay,” you said, shuffling away from the window and toward your small kitchen. “Thanks for checking on me. Everyone else okay?”

“No problem,” he said. “Karen’s bunkered down with . . . er . . . a friend. Matt hasn’t call me back yet. I was just about to ring him again.”

You didn’t know Karen had a boyfriend. Odd that she had never brought him to Josie’s with the rest of the group . . . but then the second part of that statement caught your brain.

“Matt hasn’t called you back?”

“No,” Foggy said. “But I’m sure he’s fine. Probably just didn’t hear his phone ring. Matt sleeps like the dead sometimes.”

Not hearing something didn’t sound like the Matt you knew. Who seemed to hear everything. No matter how quietly you moved, he always knew you were there. But Foggy knew him better than you did. And he had lived Matt for years. If Foggy said Matt was a heavy sleeper, then he was a heavy sleeper.

Still his voice sounded odd. Like maybe he was worried but trying not to show it. But maybe you were just protecting your own worries onto Foggy.

“Okay. I’ll let you get back to that. Bye, Foggy,” you said, trying to keep those worries out of your voice. ‘They were unnecessary,’ you reminded yourself silently. Matt was blind but he was also a grown man. He could care of himself. He was fine.

“Bye.”

You tucked your phone in your pocket. Ugh . . . you were still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Your work clothes since you hadn’t changed before getting that tearful phone call. You had wanted to get that laundry finally put away before you found another excuse to avoid doing it. You needed a shower. Especially since the power might go out – who knows when you’d get the chance for another one?

You put on coffee and tried not to worry about Matt.

“Matt doesn’t need you fussing over him. Even if he does come in looking like he got into a bar fight sometimes,” you told yourself sternly. Like last Friday, he had been sporting a set of spectacular set of bruises across the right side of his face. Which he said was the result of missing a curb and tripping. Which sounded rather peculiar to you. Yes, he couldn’t see the curb but he seemed pretty skilled with that cane of his . . . and Matt moved with the cat-like elegance of a dancer.

Maybe even graceful blind men had trouble with two left feet sometimes.

Speaking of trouble . . . where was that cat? You hadn’t seen him since you woke up.

“Trouble,” you called out. “Where are you? Here kitty, kitty,”

You heard a meow. Not close by. But the coffee was on so you could look around. It took several minutes and more meows to find him. Trouble was in your bedroom closet, on the shelf above the clothing rod. You weren’t sure how he he managed to get up there but cats were like that. It was amazing the places they managed to climb up or squeeze themselves into. It seemed he had started exploring while you were sleeping.

Looking at Trouble, you frowned. Something was . . . off. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what . . . no, wait. You raised up your phone. You had been using the flashlight app to look in shadowy places like under furniture. You ran the light across the cat’s face, watching closely. Once, then twice to make sure you were really seeing what you were seeing. But you were. His eyes weren’t reacting to the light.

You raised one finger, then moved it back and forth in front of Trouble’s face. He wasn’t tracking the motion through his whiskers tilted forward, his little nose twitching. He was paying attention, his ears were up and pointed toward you. But his eyes . . .

“Are you blind, Trouble?” you asked, reaching back up to pet the cat. It was impossible to resist that sinfully soft fur.

He gave a soft meow as if answering your question.

Well, Trouble being blind didn’t change your plans. You were still going to adopt him if he didn’t already have a home. You made a mental note to have the vet check your theory about his vision when you took him in to make sure he was healthy as he looked. You were tempted to get Trouble down from his perch. You were pretty sure that he could back down without hurting himself. Without making a mess by accidentally pulling something down with him . . . that was another kettle of fish. And while most of what on the shelf was soft, some wasn’t and that stuff could hurt Trouble if it got knocked off while he tried to get down.

On the other hand, getting a cat out of a hiding spot could be tricky. Trouble hadn’t been aggressive with his claws even once but he might make an exception for getting grabbed and pulled out of somewhere he was hiding. Normally you’d purrito him but that high shelf wasn’t the easiest location to purrito a cat . . . the beep of the coffee maker interrupted your train of thought.

You decided to have some coffee, then consider how to get Trouble down from there. But halfway through that first mug, you heard a thump. One that wasn’t, thankfully, followed by any crashing noises. Just Trouble strolling into the kitchen, very casual. He stopped a few feet away from you, head turned you – ears alert, upright tail curled into a question mark.

“Yes, Trouble?” you said. Then thought about it for a minute. “You hungry? Breakfast?”

Another answering meow. But then you had another problem. You didn’t have any cat food. You had given the last of Oreo’s special food to a friend whose cat had the same dietary restrictions. But you did have some baked chicken. That should work. Cats usually liked chicken. Fingers-crossed that it wouldn’t upset his tummy. Or make him very sick because he needed a special diet.

You cup up the chicken and put some of it into a small bowl. You sat it down in front of the cat along with a second dish with water. After giving both bowls a very thorough inspection with his nose, the cat seemed to accept the offering and started eating the chicken. You put the rest away and made a mental note to set up the litter box. You might not always have cat food on hand but you had encountered enough unexpected cat acquisition to keep cat litter in the house. Muddling through a night without cat food was one thing. Without cat litter was something else and not an experience that bears repeating.

You drank your coffee and considered your own breakfast. You didn’t really feel like making anything complicated right now. Maybe scrambled eggs? With toast? That would be quick and easy. You nodded and made yourself breakfast. Scrambled eggs and toast didn’t take long and soon you were seated at your little kitchen table, listening to one of your regular podcasts while you ate and made plans.

First, your shower. Get yourself clean and put on some clean clothes. Something comfortable since you weren’t going anywhere and there wasn’t anyone to impress. At the very least, fresh underwear since your current pair was uncomfortably damp. Along with your thighs. You were alone but the thought still made your face feel warm. Maybe, while you were in the there, you should take care of the still almost-painful ache between your legs . . .

Tidy up your apartment. Pull your emergency kit from under your bed. The Daredevil suit and all its mysteries . . . your fork scrapped the plate. The sound this produced made Trouble flinch.

“Sorry Trouble,” you said. You had been so in your head, you hadn’t realized that you already eaten all of your eggs. You moved the plate to the sink, left your mug by the coffee pot – you’d drink more when you were done with your shower – and headed toward your bedroom.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Matt might actually be in hell.

He thought it was bad earlier, when you started dreaming and his nose was filled your heavenly aroma. And when he heard you moan out his name, begging him for something. Something he couldn’t give. Not while he was like this. He had scurried out of the comforter and hidden himself before he did something . . . rash.

But this? Listening to you touching yourself? It was worse. Far worse. When there was nowhere in your small apartment where he couldn’t hear the beautiful sounds you were making. Couldn’t smell the mouth-watering scent of your arousal. Couldn’t escape the knowledge that it was always his name being moaned out.

It was torture. Pure torture.

He wanted so badly to be himself again and in that shower. Holding your naked body against his own, fingers pumping into your cunt and toying with your clit until you begged him for release. After you shattered under his hands, would he fuck you against the shower wall? Or would you turn the tables on him? Push him against the tile and start working his cock with your hands until he was the one begging?

Would that be enough to satisfy you both? Or just the beginning?

He buried himself further into the pile of blanket and comforter in a futile attempt to muffle your gasping recitation of his name as you chased your release . . .

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

You walked out the bathroom feeling refreshed.

Your eyes searched for Trouble. You didn’t worry when you didn’t immediately find him. There were a lot of places in your apartment for a cat to hide. And when you went to collect last-night’s tea mug, you found him.

Or rather you found his tail. He had apparently attempt to hide himself in the pile of blankets but his tail was sticking out. You giggled as you reached out and tickled his tail. He meowed, squirmed around in the blanket until the tail disappeared into the depths.

“Not planning to come out of there, Trouble?”

The responding meow was loud, like a very firm no. which only made you giggle harder. But you left him in his blanket cocoon. He wasn’t harming anyone. If he wanted to hide for a while, you’d let him. At least he wasn’t trying to ‘help.’

TO BE CONTINUED . . . in Part 2

NOTES

The kick combination that Matt uses against the magic user is from capoeira, which is an Afro-Brazilian cultural practice that is both a martial arts and a dance. The movements require great bodily dexterity. It’s very cool.

Purrito means wrapping a cat in a towel, small blanket, or similar like they were burrito. It’s way of holding the cat without getting scratched since the paws are all inside in the burrito. Some cats find it calming as they like the gentle pressure all around them like a hug. But some don’t.

Havana brown is a cat breed developed from mixing the Siamese with brown domestic short-haired cats. They are brown to reddish-brown – right down to their whiskers – with green eyes. Very pretty cats.

Jacobson is Luke Jacobson, the fashion designer from She-Hulk. In this story, Matt saved him one night when he was in New York. He was appealed by Matt’s homemade supersuit. He demanded to make him a better one as a thank you for saving his life. And wouldn’t take no for answer.

Melvin Potter, his old suit guy, Matt has been representing as a way of apology for the trouble Melvin experienced during Season 3. Matt might introduce Melvin to Jacobson who is curious about his other red suit.

#fan fiction #fan fic #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #part 1 of 2 #cat man do #a03 link

[illiana-mystery]

Here's a little something for my mutual @fabuloussisterofsin. Happy Reading!

Cycle of Care

Plot: After another long day in the OBGYN unit of Chelsea General Hospital (he's a gynecologist in this fic), Harding arrives home expecting his usual greeting from his beloved girlfriend and the smell of dinner welcoming him in. However, tonight, he receives neither usual welcoming gestures. Confused, he goes upstairs to investigate to find his dear love sick and weak in their bathroom. So he takes it upon himself to take care of her and make her feel better after her own long day of battling the first bout of her period.

⚠️ This is an 18+ fic with mild NSFW content. Minors do not engage. 🔞 Thank you. 🙂

Taglist: @goodoldcharley , @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky, @braindead94, @curbitkirby, @freddiefredfive, @writingkitten, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

---

“Honey, I'm home,” the older man called from the front corridor as he put his briefcase to the side and hung his coats on the rack nearby.

He waited for your normal response, but to his surprise, it was silent.

He scratched his head in confusion, realizing that you were nowhere in sight.

Swiftly after, he noted that the lights were off in the kitchen and the living room.

That was even more peculiar.

You were always in one of those two rooms when he got home. And you always greeted him after work, especially on long nights like this.

And it was a very, long night.

He made you aware of that, as well as his growing annoyance with all of his fellow OBGYN's at Chelsea General Hospital at the time.

It worried you.

But you did your best to calm him down via text.

You kept sending him videos of apex predators being strong and steadfast in the wild. That, in turn, gave him the confidence and energy he needed to get through the rest of his hellish shift.

So he expected you to welcome him with big, open arms and a nice dinner as soon as he made it back home.

But nothing.

Still, he made his way upstairs to see if you were there. It didn't seem like the house was disturbed in any way and your car was parked outside.

So you had to be upstairs, right?

His inquiry was soon answered as he took his last step up to the top floor. In an instant, he heard you loudly throwing up in your shared master bathroom before the toilet loudly flushed after.

Harding was puzzled. He wondered if you were sick or if it was your monthly gift.

It made more sense that you were just sick, since you never threw up during your cycles.

But then again, you had started a new birth control he prescribed for you, so maybe that was the culprit.

Calmly, he walked into your shared room and then pried the bathroom door open to find you curled over the toilet still hurling into the bowl.

You had been in that same position for longer than 5 minutes and although you felt like you threw up all the remnants of your stomach lining, you still felt the urge to vomit more. So you didn't leave that spot.

However, your eyes did move over to your boyfriend. You felt horrible seeing how concerned he looked.

You could just tell his heart was aching from seeing you in such distress. It was clear as day in his dark eyes.

“Honey, are you okay?” he asked, before you threw up again.

“Hardy,” you started after you picked your head back up. “Babe, I'm fine. I promise. Just some menstrual sickness. I'll be okay.”

“You never have to vomit,” Harding swiftly replied. “This has to be a side effect of the new birth control I put you on.”

“Oh, right,” you responded. “Well, it'll pass. I trust your judgment. I like this birth control so far. If this is the only side effect, well that's fine with me.”

“Right,” he groaned. “How long have you been at the toilet like this?”

“About five minutes,” you admitted. “My period started this afternoon and you know how bad my cramps are. So I was resting, although this new birth control seems to make my cramps not as bad. Anyway, I guess I overslept and didn't have time to cook your dinner. I'm sorry, babe.”

“That's alright. I can warm some leftovers. That doesn't matter right now. What matters is you. Your dysmenorrhea is my main concern right now,” he clarified. “Is it just your normal cramps and this little side effect that's been bothering you today? Is that it?”

“Yes, I promise, Hardy. You don't need to worry about me. I'm okay.”

He wiped his brow in relief.

“Okay, good. I'm glad these new pills are helping your cramps a little, but I hope you won't be throwing up like this frequently. I guess we have to see throughout your cycle what happens,” he started. “But looks like you're done for now, so leftovers will have to wait. Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed.”

“We don't have to eat leftovers, Hardy,” you assured him. “That Thai street food place is still open til midnight. Just call it in. I'll get my usual.”

“Okay, but after we shower,” he specified.

“Aye, aye captain,” you teased.

He chuckled, before walking over to you and giving you his hand. You took it and he helped you back on your feet.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” he said back, giving you a sweet kiss on your cheek. You blushed, before he bent down lower and gave you another kiss on your neck.

“Hardy,” you cooed. “What are you doing?”

“Just because I can't kiss your lips right now, doesn't mean I don't want to kiss you at all,” he explained, as his hands moved to your clothes.

Gingerly, he took your tank top off before swiping your shorts and panties off too.

And when he glanced at your bare body, he couldn't help but lick his lips.

Sure, he had seen you naked plenty of times, but your natural curves and soft skin always made him go mad.

You were just so beautiful to him. It made him go crazy every time.

“Damn. You take my breath away every time I see your bare skin.”

You giggled, before blushing.

“Oh, you,” you chirped. “Now it's my turn.”

He snickered, before you moved forward and removed his bowtie. Once discarded, you began to unbutton his crisp work shirt and quickly threw it to the side to expose his peak form you loved so much.

Oh his titties and little paunch looked so nice under the bathroom lighting. And his little tufts of chest hair really were a nice garnish to his natural look.

But you had to see him bare like you were.

It wasn't enough to just see his glorious chest.

You wanted to bask in him, even if you couldn't have sex like you wanted to right now.

“Still admiring me?” he asked, thick eyebrow cocked up.

“When am I not? You're so damn handsome.”

He blushed before asking in a cocky tone,

“Are you gonna take off my trousers and boxers? Or will I have to while you watch?”

“I'm capable of taking off the rest of your clothes and admiring you at the same time,” you huffed as you began to take his pants off.

He just laughed, but loved the look on your face when you saw his unclothed, resting cock.

Well, it was half mast, but still a sight to behold to you.

It still amazed you how nice his cock was and how much his girth made up for his average length.

He had a nice, thick penis and he knew how to use it. And you were ever so grateful, especially on nights like these where he wanted to fuck his stress away.

You were so tempted to at least touch it, just to give him some sexual satisfaction. But to your surprise, he smacked your hand away.

“Oww, what was that for?”

“I don't need you to do that for me. I'm fine. Now let's get in the shower. Tonight, I'm taking care of you. Sex can wait until your cycle is over…that means any and all sexual activity.”

“Yes, Hardy,” you groaned before you followed him into the shower after he started the water.

After manureving to stand in front of your big and tall boyfriend, you sighed in relief as the gentle caress of warm water coated your aching body.

Harding always knew the right setting to put the shower spray on and tonight was no different. It felt like the soft pour of rain deep within the Amazon, and it was heaven to you.

He took notice of your euphoria, smiling at the sight of your content.

Your smile and the way your face would turn red at the slightest compliment or touch always warmed his heart.

He never liked to see you down or hurt or sick, so seeing this change in demeanor really helped him calm his worry for the moment.

“Relaxed?” he softly asked.

You nodded, running your hand through your now damp hair.

He lightly chuckled, before suddenly asking,

“Are your breasts tender?”

“A little,” you replied. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I forgot to earlier,” he clarified. “Allow me to help with that.”

You giggled, before the blush on your face exposed how excited you were for him to touch and massage your breasts.

Because you knew he wasn’t JUST gonna massage your breasts.

And you were proven right, yet again when you felt his soft belly against your back.

You mewed, before he bent down and began to track his lips down your jaw and into your neck. His gentle kisses made you feel all warm inside, before he finally moved his hands over to your bosom.

Gingerly, he rubbed the tips of his index and ring fingers on both hands against your nipples, moving them in a circular motion.

You bit your lip, trying not to scream at how good it felt. Harding was more than aware of how sensitive your nipples were, being your gynecologist first and all.

The memory of you moaning audibly when he gave you your breast exam during your first appointment with him still made both of you giggle.

“Still so sensitive,” he whispered against your shoulder he was now kissing. “Just like the first time I touched you there.”

“Yeah,” you hummed. “Your fingers and hands just feel so good.”

He chuckled.

“That's what made me fall in love with you,” he admitted.

“Really? You never told me that.”

“I guess I never wanted to admit it. But we've been together for a year now so might as well be honest. I never thought I would fall in love so quickly after my wife died. But then you came into my office, you beautiful ray of sunshine. My angel, sent to me from above. Your smile, your laugh, your timid voice, it all just sent my soul ablaze. I'm just glad you gave an old man like me a chance.”

“Oh, Hardy. I love you,” you hummed. “And I don't care that you're older than me. You know I like older men. You've been a heaven sent to me too. You're the best gynecologist and boyfriend a girl could ever hope to have. And between you and me, I've never had orgasms as good as you give me.”

He snickered before blushing himself.

“Thank you kindly, angel. I love you too,” he assured you with a quick kiss to your cheek.

His hands moved up to your soft flesh after, and gently he knead your boobs between his strong and sturdy hands.

You moaned loudly as he did so, leaning more into his belly as his massage became a little firmer.

“Still feels good, angel?”

“Yes, yes, Hardy. Please don't stop.”

“I’ll keep going for a little longer. But I have to address your cramps soon too,” he explained. “Looks like you don't have any lumps though. That's good.”

You laughed.

“It's not a breast exam, Hardy. You're always on, I swear.”

“Nothing wrong with checking on your breast health while I’m making you feel good,” he remarked.

“I guess you got me there,” you relented, before he slowly removed his hands from your breasts. “Thank you, Hardy. That felt so good.”

“You're welcome, angel,” he quickly replied before he took the handheld shower head off of its stand and angled it at your stomach and midsection.

“What are you doing?” you asked, annoyed that the water wasn't falling down on you anymore.

“Handling your cramps,” he swiftly said, before his thumb pushed the nob down and made the water spray out a little heavier and a bit faster against that skin.

“Ooh, okay. That feels really good,” you moaned, making Harding give you another cheek kiss.

“I know, love. I'm just gonna run this over your abdomen and midsection for a couple of minutes. Let me know if I need to change the speed or the temperature.”

“Okay,” you cooed.

He only snickered in response, keeping the shower head in his left hand while his right hand held your waist steady.

His hand holding your waist also moved in circles, gingerly tickling your skin there. It made you giggle and he gave you a sweet neck kiss after.

“Okay, you want me to run the water on your tummy a little longer? Or are you ready for me to wash your hair and body?”

“I'm ready for you to wash me,” you replied. “I miss more of your touch.”

He snickered in your ear.

“I'll wash your hair first,” he whispered, after he put the shower head back on its stand. “I want to take my time washing your beautiful body and praising it like I want to.”

“Okay…daddy…”

“What did you call me?” he asked, his voice oozing with intrigue.

“You heard me…daddy.”

He sinisterly snickered before pulling you closer to his paunch again.

“I'm gonna tear you up in 5 days,” he warned with a kiss to your ear and jaw. “But until then, I'm gonna make you squirm and beg for Wednesday night to come.”

“Oh, daddy,” you whimpered, as his teeth grazed your sensitive spot on your neck. He nibbled down, making you jolt a bit before you moaned in ecstasy.

“Sexy temptress,” he moaned, before he moved his head and hands from you.

You whined, but turned your head to see him gathering your shampoo in one hand as his other hand pushed down the pump.

“I'm coming,” he said when he saw you looking his way. “Be patient, little grasshopper.”

You giggled.

“Okay,” you playfully moaned before you felt his shampoo slathered palms moving around your scalp and hair.

His firm, big hands always felt so nice moving the shampoo around.

It was the most pleasant head massage.

“Rinse,” he instructed you before you ran your head right under the shower again and let the shampoo run down your skin and down the drain.

As you were doing that, Harding gathered some conditioner the same way as the shampoo.

You both met halfway again after and soon he was working the conditioner into your hair.

He was even more thorough, knowing that your conditioner of choice made your hair even more smooth and silky than it naturally was.

Because he loved touching and admiring your hair. It was one of his favorite ways to show affection to you other than the neck kisses and bites he always gave you.

“Okay. I'll let that sit while I wash you off,” he told you. “Would you like me to bathe you with your lavender wash or cucumber melon wash?”

“Lavender, please,” you answered.

“Your wish is my command, angel,” he replied, before he put some of the liquid on your favorite purple loofah.

He started moving the loofah against your back, making sure to make his fingers slip from the material so it could graze your back.

You whined at the teasing touch, so he began to kiss every area his fingers and loofah traced.

And to your delight, he got on his knees to playfully smack your ass before he moved the loofah over and kissed right where he smacked you.

“Oh, daddy. You're so naughty,” you teased to get a reaction out of him.

“I'll definitely be Wednesday,” he promised as he got off his knees.

He turned you around after, fully intending to wash off your breasts first.

He was gentle though especially when he got to your pussy.

And his kisses felt even nicer as he went on while you were facing him.

“Okay, you can rinse again,” he told you after he got back up on his feet again.

“Yes, daddy,” you teased again, as you did as he said.

Once you were done rinsing your body and the conditioner out of your hair, you returned the favor by washing Harding off with his favorite Old Spice gel.

He was practically mewing at your soft touch too, since you let your fingers slip past the loofah like he had. And you gave him many many kisses upon his body as well.

You just had to show him how much you loved him and appreciated his care.

“That was quite a shower,” Harding said after he turned the water off.

“Yeah, it was. But I'm hungry now.”

“Ditto,” he replied. “But let's get dried off and dressed first. Then I'll order dinner.”

“Sounds good to me,” you said back, following him out of the shower.

As expected, Harding insisted on drying your body and hair off before he dried himself off.

Then, of course, he also dressed you in your favorite pajamas once you put some new pads and panties on.

You threw your now dry hair into a bun after, while he got into his own pair of favorite pajamas.

You stared intently, but he didn't notice until he pulled his pajama pants up. Then he chuckled once he noticed.

“Like what you see?”

“Of course, handsome,” you said, reassuring him with a warm hug.

“Angel, you're too kind,” he said, his face turning completely red. “Now let's get you to bed. I'll order our food after.”

“Okay,” you hummed, rubbing your head against his arm.

He chuckled again, kissed your forehead, and then led you back into your room.

Without hesitation, you crawled to your side of the bed and let him tuck you in before he gave you another kiss upon your cheek.

“Take it easy, angel. I'm gonna go back downstairs, order the food, and wait for it while you rest up here.”

“Sounds good to me,” you chirped, before he left you, snickering all the way downstairs.

Luckily, you weren't by yourself in bed for too long. Between Harding ordering the food and him waiting for it, it was about 25 minutes of wait time.

And when he made his way back upstairs, you got really excited because you could hear his loud footsteps.

You smiled as he made his way back into the room. And you noticed that he had a tray with two bowls and two tea cups in his hands.

“Dinner is served,” he announced. “I got us Pad Thai to share, some roti bread, and green tea. I just wanted some tea, but I figured that you could have some too. It does help with cramps.”

“Aww, Hardy…thank you!,” you said as he came over to your side of the bed and placed the tray down by your feet.

Carefully, he gathered the teacup and put it on your nightstand before he handed you your bowl he topped with the roti bread.

You grabbed it and smiled at him, then watched as he moved the tray over to his side to get his bowl and teacup.

And once he got his self straightened out, he got closer to you in the bed.

“You can eat now, angel,” he said after he noticed you hesitating. “You don't have to wait for me.”

“I know. But I wanted to,” you clarified. “Thank you for making my first night of shark week better. You always have a way of picking me back up.”

“Funny, I could say the same,” he said with a hardy chuckle. “You're welcome, though. Guess this night wasn’t a complete bust on my end either.”

You giggled, before you leaned against his arm.

“I love you so much, Hardy. I'm so glad you're off tomorrow so you can take care of me more.”

He laughed.

“I love you more, angel. I'm glad to be off too. Because there's no patient I rather be with and care for than you,” he assured you...

...making you blush even more.

#hope you enjoy #happy reading #this is my first time writing harding #so i hope i did him justice #harding hooten #dr. harding hooten #monday mornings #fanfiction #fanfic #my fanfic #fan fic #fan fiction #alfred molina

[my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction]

The Taming of Man: chapter eight - Dragon Shifting!Katsuki Bakugou x F!reader

Hey, so I know this took a little longer, but I hit a wall, lol. Hope you enjoy this chapter, let me know your thoughts!

Words: 2,753

This is incredibly based on the song The Willow Maid by Erutan, I highly recommend giving it a listen for the best experience.

Warnings: Cursing, reader is She/Her and will be AFAB in later chapters, angst, reader faces verbal/emotional abuse from her mother, Mitsuki is kind of ooc

"So...Uh, what is this about," you asked, trying to keep your tone nonchalant, your back turned to your mother, the queen of the Faerie people. She had requested to play with your hair, like she used to do when you were a little girl, a serene smile on her face as she began to give you an English braid.

"Well, I have some news for you," she said sweetly. You let out a silent sigh of relief, you were worried she found out about your adventures outside, with a Dragonborne no less. She began to hum mindlessly to herself, that same song you had heard so many times over.

"What...is it," you gently prompted, to which she perked up a little. "Ah, right...well, as you know, I've gone and visited each and every duke you met all those weeks ago, quite a large task mind you, and you won't believe what happened!"

Judging from her tone, you knew what she was going to say. It made your insides feel hollow, the anxiety and anticipation for her next words. "Do tell," you said cheerily. She wouldn't like it if you sounded nervous.

"The duke of Silverstone has offered an enormous dowry for your hand! You'll be married in less than a month, dear!"

Your heart sank. No, no this can't happen...You knew you'd be getting married soon, you were turning twenty in a couple weeks, but you didn't think it'd be so soon! It was tradition, once the heir turned twenty and married they'd take the throne, and taking the throne...you wouldn't be able to leave again. To see Katsuki.

Your hands were shaking, your lips quivering. You were glad she couldn't see your face right now. You can't let this happen, you have to do something you haven't done in a very, very, very long time. Maybe she's changed after all these years.

"Um, M-mom?"

"Yes, (y/n)?" She gently undid the braid she just made, running her long nails through your hair.

"W...what if I, uh, I didn't want to marry him..."

She stopped, freezing in place. You didn't want to turn around and see her face. Your hands gripped the fabric of your dress, scrunching the lace in your fingers.

"I...I feel so foolish..." she began, her voice calm and quiet.

Please don't do it, please be reasonable.

She shakily stands up, looking at you as if you were a ghost.

"After all the things I've done for you, after everything you've put me through, I thought maybe you would be able to do something for me," she whispers, her eyes glossy with tears.

"M-mom, That's not what I-"

"And to think, your father died for a daughter like you! If he could see you now he'd certainly regret it," she shouts, standing over you with a look of pure disgust.

"Mother, please-"

"No! I understand! I must be a terrible mother! How could a good one raise someone so utterly selfish and-"

"I was just kidding, Ok? It was just a joke, 'm sorry, please don't be mad," you shouted, squeezing your eyes shut and shrinking back.

silence.

slowly, you opened your eyes back up, peaking at your mother's shocked face.

"Well..." she sighed, delicately sitting back down next to you. "That wasn't a very funny joke, now was it," she giggled, conjuring up a couple blooms of baby's breath and braiding it into the front of your hair.

"The dressmaker will see you tomorrow morning, to help you pick out the style you'd like," she said kindly, a soft and gentle smile on her face.

"Yes, Mother."

When Katsuki walked into the palace he knew so well, practically stumbling with emotional exhaustion, the last thing he expected was to hear his mom was looking for him. "Hah? What does that old hag want with me," he asked Kirishima, who was already dragging him to the throne room. "Dunno, she just said she wanted to see you," he shrugged.

When they arrived, Queen Mitsuki of the Dragonborne was sitting upon her great throne, looking down at her son with a regal expression. She wore a wine red dress, the color complimenting those ruby eyes passed down generation after generation. Her horns, like that of an antelope, started with an ivory white at the base of her head and became a deep shade of crimson at the tips. Finally, her long, thick, spiked red tail was lazily lying beside her seat.

"Katsuki," she started, her voice firm. To anyone else, she might sound mad, But Katsuki knew better than anyone that wasn't the case. He stepped closer, Joining his mother and standing right in front of her.

"Be honest with me."

"Spit it out already!"

"Don't talk to your mother that way," she scoffed, smacking him upside the head. Katsuki yelped and glowered, but didn't try to interrupt her again.

"Now, Tell me..." she looked him deep in the eyes, her nostrils flaring slightly. She was smelling the air around him closely.

"Have you found a mate?"

Katsuki immediately turned about as red as his mother's dress, giving him away. "Aha! I knew it! My boy is finally becoming a man!"

"Ma," Katsuki shouted, his mother standing straight up to give him a tight hug. "Get off of me, who said I found anyone," he shouted, pushing away his mother with all his strength, and yet to no avail. If Kiri blabbed, He's a dead man.

"You don't think I know when my son's trying to get a mate? Look at yourself," she scoffed, grabbing his half-scaled arm and holding it up as evidence. "I mean, you absolutely reek of pheromones," she supplemented, gesturing to him vaguely. All Katsuki could do was stand there and try to think of a response. "Well...that's...you..."

"Enough, I already know, So go ahead and tell me who this person is," she said, grabbing his face in her hands with a wide smile.

"...you won't believe me." He didn't know how his mother would react...fae were largely regarded as myth.

"Try me."

"She's...she's not a dragonborne," he muttered, testing the waters.

"So? she could be mermaid for all I care, as long as you make me some grandbabies!"

"MA!"

Mitsuki rolled her eyes, giving him an unamused frown. "What? You're not a hatchling anymore, you're twenty-three! It's about time!"

"Well, she's...she's a faerie." No point in beating around the bush.

"A faerie...?" His mother seemed utterly confused, blinking a couple times and composing herself.

"And...you've managed to court her?"

"What's that s'pposed to mean," Katsuki huffed, crossing his arms.

"Answer me."

"Yeah, What about it..."

"Well that's...that's wonderful! Thank God you've found yourself someone who can put up with your bullshit, I mean really I was getting worried-"

"Hey! I'm fuckin' delightful!" Katsuki barked, tensing and glaring at his mother.

"Yeah yeah, We just have to go see the oracle, to find a good mating date of course," She said, waving him off and giving him a toothy smile as she dragged him to the oracle room.

"I just started dating her! We're not mating yet!"

"Not with that attitude, How do you expect her to stay if you don't commit?!"

You learned this morning that every dress the dressmaker offered to you was preapproved by your mother, because why wouldn't they be, and while you were able to keep a smile on your face during the meeting, you were absolutely crumbling inside. You and Katsuki just started dating, and now you were to be married some guy you met once last month? What could you possibly do to stop this...

two hours of mindless chatting with the dressmaker later, you had a solution. Or, rather, a way to help you cope a little. You'd spend the next couple weeks enjoying your time with Katsuki, making the most of it, say goodbye, and live the life you were destined to live. Yeah, that was good, right? A win-win for you and your mother...right?

You'd go and see Katsuki around noon again, but this time he has something to ask of you. Or, rather, tell of you.

"Come and eat lunch at the palace," he says, cupping your face in his hands and scowling down at you. "Right now," you asked with a bit of a giggle, your hands meeting his. It was surprising how touchy you both got so soon, but something just felt so...comfortable to you. Both of you.

He didn't really want to admit it, but if you'd let him he'd have his hands on you constantly. He couldn't say it so much with words yet, but he did care about you, so to show it he wanted to be touching you always. He felt like he earned it, after working so hard to court you.

"When else?" He scanned your face, looking for clues as to how you felt. "I mean...sure," you shrugged, smiling up at him. "But, wait, what about your family? Won't they see me...?"

"well no shit...my mom wants to meet with you."

You had no idea he even told his mother about you, and you immediately looked down at yourself. "T-today? But, I'm not even dressed," you said, clearly nervous. You needed to be dressed far more formally than this to meet not only your boyfriend's mom, but also the Queen of the Dragonborne.

"Don't worry about it, you look g-good," he responds, his voice catching on "good" because he was still getting used to speaking so fondly of someone. It's what he felt, though, and he was no liar, so he'd tell you what he thought. Of course, he wouldn't look at you when he said it.

"Well...do you think she'll like me?" You pouted up at him, nervously tugging at your clothes.

"I wouldn't take you if I didn't think she'd like you." He released your face, instead putting his hands on your forearms. "If we're going, we gotta go now," he added, his voice a little quieter.

"Yeah...yeah, ok," you said, trying to hype yourself up. One long walk later, and you were at the front of the palace. It felt odd, not sneaking around. You felt like everyone was staring at you, even though you were sure no one but the armed guards were. You both were allowed clearance, your hand clutching Katsuki's muscled arm, and you finally got to see the inside of his Castle.

The ceilings were extremely high up, so high you had to crane your neck to se them, and they all came to a point. The incredibly deep red of the stone walls, accompanied by the flames of chandeliers and torches lined up in the hallways, made for a dark, almost sultry ambiance. It was warm, but not as warm as it was outside, and as you walked through the palace you could feel the gaze of the armed guards locked on you. It was unsettling, the look in their eyes almost inhumanly defensive.

A man with spikey red hair, about as spikey as the Stalagmite shaped palace you were within, walked up to the both of you excitedly. "Hey! You must be Katsuki's girlfriend! It's great to finally meet you for real, I mean I've heard so much about you-"

"Shut up," Katsuki barked, clearly embarrassed about the fact that he talked about you to Kiri so often.

This man was highly energetic, his voice and smile warm and friendly. It put you at ease, knowing at least one person besides Katsuki was ok with you being here. "I-I'm (y/n,)" you said quickly, holding out your hand for him to shake. He took it, giving your hand a gentle but firm shake up and down, a toothy grin on his face. "Name's Ejiro Kirishima, but you can call me Kiri. The Queen is waiting for you two!"

You nodded with a smile, hands fiddling with the fabric of your dress as you and Katsuki followed Kirishima to the dining room. "Are you sure she'll like me," you whisper. Katsuki sighs and pats your back a bit. "Relax, she will...And if she doesn't, who cares?"

"I care," you mutter, watching as guards open the double doors leading to the dining room. Katsuki's mom was already standing there, an excited smile on her face. "Hi! You must be (y/n)!" she immediately takes your hands in hers, eyes darting all across your face. "H-hi! You must be Katsuki's mom," you say, trying to match her energy. "Come with me, I have so much to talk to you about," she says, pulling you away from Katsuki and to the large table.

You, Mistuki, and Katsuki spent the entire afternoon sitting around, eating at nearly every national dish, as the Queen wanted you to be able to eat in case you disliked anything.

The conversation was lead by Mitsuki at first, but as you got more comfortable, it became a lot easier to talk, especially with her detailed (and rather embarrassing) stories about Katsuki as a child.

I mean, who would have guessed he accidentally melted his toys when he was sick, and cried about it for a week? He got particularly red hearing that story again.

Watching their dynamic was particularly interesting, seeing as while the two of them yelled at each other, they didn't seem to particularly dislike each other. It was the complete opposite of your relationship with your own mom.

Your mother was quiet, a sinister energy following her even when she seemed perfectly happy. Katsuki's mother was loud, but her energy was bright and intense, like Katsuki himself.

After an hour of great conversation and great food, It was time for you to go, if you stayed any longer you wouldn't make it home in time. Leaving the palace, giving Mitsuki a hug as if you were old friends, you were nothing but smiles. It went nothing like how you thought it would! Katsuki was walking out with you, his hand in yours to tug you along.

"So, how come your mom has horns but you don't? Is it like a sexual dimorphism?" You had so much to ask about.

"Nah, It's just somethin' that happens to everyone when you mate," he replies, walking confidently through the entrance to Böse. He only started to hold onto you near the start of Eisen, he knew his way around this section.

"Really? Aren't we mated," you ask, almost a little nervous to bring it up.

"No, not yet. We're just dating."

"Oh...but, haven't you said we're mated? Didn't you go through a whole ritual for it?"

"That's to court you. Right now, It's like...we're seeing if we want to mate."

"So, it's like a marriage?"

"...sure." Katsuki didn't have the patience to explain the nuances of mating to you.

after a beat of silence, you started talking again, wanting to drum up conversation.

"Your mom is great," you complimented. "She's alright," he grumbled, his eyes sliding over to look at you. "She seems like a truly kind person," you remark, your voice just a little quieter as you looked to the flowers growing in the brush.

"She's not any different from other moms," he countered, picking up a pyre pine twig and dragging it through the dirt. "She is! She's different from my mom," you say, balancing on acrimony roots. "You're mom's not nice," he asks mockingly, not taking you too seriously.

"No, she's nice...but I said your mom was kind. My mom isn't kind." You look to the ground, your smile remaining but having a certain emptiness to it. Katsuki stared at you for a moment, realizing what you were getting at. After another few seconds he muttered, "'m sorry." He was quiet, staring at the ground as he walked just as you did.

"N-no It's ok! I'm ok," you laughed quickly, trying to play it off. The less he knew, the better. "I should meet your dad next time," you follow up, trying desperately to change the subject.

"You can't. He's not around anymore," he says bluntly, his eyes remaining on the dirt.

"oh, s-sorry," you mumble, looking away in a ton of embarrassment. After some silence, you spoke up again. "Uh...my dad isn't around either," you mention, hoping to give him some comfort.

"Yeah," he asks, looking at you now. He was intrigued.

"Uh huh," you say, gaining a bit of confidence. "He was...well, it's a long story."

"We got time," he grumbles, getting just a little closer as the two of you walk.

"Well...ok, uh...where do I start..."

You guys, I feel like the plot is moving too quickly...what are your thoughts on that? Leave a comment letting me know, I read and respond to all of them (or try my best to)!

Taglist: @sky-angel101 @the-galaxy-fiend @chixkadee @ssplague @sappho-the-kitten-tamer @andysdrafts @daria-rona @tanjirofan63 @aizawaslut09 @tsukiiomii @me1297

#fanfic #fan fiction #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #new writeblr #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #kacchan #katsuki bakugo imagine #bakugo katuski #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader #katsuki x y/n #boku no hero academia #katsuki bakugo fluff #fantasy bakugou #mha fantasy au #the taming of man #my hero academia #mha #mha fluff #bnha #bnha x reader

[thingsthatcometomymindwheniwrite]

respect your fellow fan fiction writers. They are the firefighters to the burning nightmares that our published works are. They fix all the merciless terror that we never bothered to. Putting bandaids on everybody. Embracing the side characters with barely any screen time. And they also write those nasty unhinged sex scenes that we never dared to because we knew our families would be reading our work. Say thank you bitch

#writing #text post #book tropes #writerblr #booklr #writerscorner #books and reading #books #writer things #queer writers #fanfic #queer fiction #fic writing #fan fiction #fan fic writing #writer memes #writing memes #lgbt writers #writing community #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer

[the-bar-sinister]

"do I misunderstand what this kink is, or are people on AO3 tagging it in fics where it does not actually appear?"

*goes and double checks the definition and reads some reddit threads*

AO3 authors are tagging it in fics where it does not appear. 😩

#fandom wank #archive of our own #ao3 #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #🔍⚔️

[athanza]

Starlett - Part 2

Cooper Howard/fem!OC (not self-insert)

Tags: Hurt/comfort (sort of?), non-allowed romantic connection, lots of tention, pre and post war drama, some Cooper dad fluff because why not ♡

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse and (no graphic scenes or descriptions of that nature), angst, canon wasteland violence

This branches out from canon but I thought it was a cute story idea so I had to write it. Enjoy! ♡

Part 1 | Part 3 | Final part

2296

The harsh sun was setting now which meant he needed to find somewhere to settle in for the night. The rickety second floor of one of these buildings would be the best option so he'd have a good vantage point if something were to happen.

As he searched for the right building he began to hear muffled screaming coming from further in the crumbled town. At first, he couldn't give a rat's ass, but he needed to know if it was a big enough threat for him to keep moving.

It didn't take long for gunshots to begin ringing out through the ruins, but they were only from 3 separate guns...then 2...then 1.

As he reached the area where the shots were coming from, the sounds of a pissed off Yao Guai became apparent, and there was one singular person left to fight it off but she looked like she was badly injured.

"You son of a bitch!!" She yelled when her gun jammed and the wounded beast readied itself for another charge.

As it lunged at her one more time a shotgun shell slammed into the side of it's head and it went down, a pink mist left in the air for a moment as the rest of it's brains splattered to the ground.

The woman turned to where the shot came from to see Cooper walking casually towards her, unable to see his face very well in the dark. She pointed her now un-jammed rifle at him just in case.

"Those things'll kill ya." He quipped.

"Yeah, no shit." She replied, wincing at the pain from a gash on her side.

He cocked his head a little. Her voice sounded familiar.

"Why don't you put down that gun so I can cut myself some bear hide and be on my way?"

She scoffed. "So you can shoot me in the face and steal all my shit? No thanks cowboy."

That was it, the confirmation he didn't think he'd get.

"Irene?" He said.

The woman paused briefly, then aimed her gun properly. "How do you know my name?"

He stepped a little closer so that the light from the lantern on the ground could illuminate his face.

It took her a moment but she recognised his eyes and immediately lowered her weapon.

"Cooper?"

2077

A scream woke Cooper up in the middle of the night and he instinctively got up and ran to his daughter's room.

"Daddy!" Janey cried when she saw him.

He came over and hugged her tightly. "Hey, hey, it's ok, it was just a dream, you're ok."

She cried into him for a moment before spluttering "Why don't you and mommy love each other anymore?"

That caught him off guard. He had no idea what to say and it hurt so much hearing her say that.

"It's not that we don't love each other honey, it's just..." He tried desperately to search for the right words. "Well...your mom and I just disagree on somethin' really important and we tried to figure it out but it was too hard."

"What did you disagree on?"

"Well...that's grown up stuff baby girl."

She sulked quietly, putting her head back on his chest.

"We still love you very very much, that hasn't changed at all."

"Is it my fault?" She asked and his heart broke.

"No baby girl, no, not at all. None of this is your fault."

"I know I haven't been doing my homework, and I don't always feed Roosevelt when I'm told and-"

He cut her off, kneeling beside the bed so he could look her in the eyes. "Janey," he held her hands. "None of this is your fault. Your mother and I loved you since the day we found out we were gonna have you. And when you were born, we looked at you and we just cried and cried.

I have never been prouder or happier than I was in that moment. And you know what? That hasn't changed a bit, not even a little."

Janey smiled, her face still wet with leftover tears.

"Really?" She sniffed.

"Yes." Cooper chuckled, scooping her up and hugging her again and she giggled. "Now, how about a hot chocolate, with double marshmallows?"

She smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

She hugged him as he carried her downstairs. "I love you daddy." She said.

His chest burst with warmth and happiness and he smiled. "I love you too sweetheart."

The next morning, Janey was watching cartoons on the TV while eating her breakfast and Cooper sipped greatfully at his cup of hot coffee, having not gotten much sleep.

He smiled as he heard his daughter giggle at the TV, her mouth full of cereal, and sat down at the dining table with his newspaper.

But just as he sat down the loud ringing from the telephone rang out through the kitchen and he sighed heavily.

"I'll get it!" Janey yelled and ran over, hoping it was her mother. Her face dropped when it wasn't her mother's voice she heard on the other end of the line. "Yeah he's here, I'll put him on."

Cooper looked up at her tone and she held the receiver out to him. "It's for you dad."

He walked over and took it, kissing her on the head before she went back to her cartoons.

"Hello?" He said.

"Mr. Howard, it's Irene. I'm sorry to call you at home but I need your help."

Her voice told him it was serious. "What's wrong?"

"You were right. About Frank. I know we barely know each other but I need somewhere to stay for the night before I go to my mother's up in Sacramento. Lee...Lee doesn't know."

"I uh..."

"...no, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you." She said.

"No, no, it's ok. I'll make up the guest room for you."

He could hear a faint sigh of relief in her answer. "Thank you, so much, I owe you one."

He gave her his address and they hung up.

"Who was that dad?" Asked Janey.

"A friend from work. She needs a place to stay tonight so she's gonna stay in the guest bedroom. You'd like her."

She kind of shrugged in an uninterested way and took another bite of her cereal, her attention back on the TV.

He hoped no one sees Irene at his house, that's the last thing he needs in the papers, especially now.

Part 1 | Part 3

#cooper howard #the ghoul #janey howard #fallout #fallout tv #fallout tv show #fallout tv series #fallout amazon #fallout prime #fallout amazon prime #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper x janey fluff #cooper howard x fem reader #the ghoul x fem reader #fallout fic #fallout fanfic #cooper howard x oc #the ghoul x oc #cooper howard fic #the ghoul fic #cooper howard fanfic #the ghoul fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction

[captainleviswifee]

Summer heats...

Tags: Modern AU Levi, established relationship, fem reader, summer, saturday, day offs, MDNI,

Please reblogg if you like this content!

Edit: you can use extensions, or apps to replace y/n with the name of your choice. I personally use interactivefics extensions, but let me know if you know others!

It's a Saturday summer and it's your day off. The heat waves of the glaring sun is upon you. Despite the sun setting down this afternoon, it did not discount to the simmering heat of the weather at all. The air is dry and warm, the air conditioning barely helping to the rising temperature. So you turn the fan on and wear comfortable clothing. You're wearing shorts that's nearly exposing your cheeks way above of your thighs. A lose thin cotton tank top that you'd usually wear under a blouse, or a dress. You are a conservative, a little reserved kind of person, but none of that matters against this sweltering heat. "Well I'm at home anyway, this is fine." You say as you wear the tank top on you. If not for common decency you would've gotten rid of your tank top and just go wearing bra or bra less in your home. It's just that you're not alone at home. Levi is with there with you too, he's not one to go hang outside on weekends, day offs or not. You just don't want to flash anyone with sudden nudity even if you're in a relationship with him.

You walk past behind him, his form wearing a thin lose shirt. Subtly outlining his toned form as he sits on the couch reading the news on his phone. You catch the headlines from over his shoulder, saying: 'Man collapses at work, doctors say the summer heat induced his hypertension.'

The both of you originally planned to hang out for today's day off, but the heat just took away all that mood for going outside. And decided to spend the day away from each other even just because of this heat.

"It's a little too hot isn't it? You want something cold?" You ask stealing glances at his focused blue gray eyes reading the news, offering him a cold drink to ease this heat. He catches your question, looking at you from the fringes of his dark bangs, with a nonchalant expression. "I want iced water please," He responds, and you push for a follow up, "Sure you don't want any iced tea?" His eyes dart sideways in contemplation for a moment. Seemingly tempted at the idea, before turning his gaze back to you to reply, "I prefer water today," He replies, he's never really one for carbonated drinks, alcohol, or juice. More often than not, his options just consists of tea, coffee, and water. And the only juice you actually see him drink is iced tea and nothing else.

"Alright, if you say so." You smile to yourself taking out two glasses for the both of you from the cupboard, placing it on the kitchen counter. Your form walk towards, the fridge getting a pitcher of cold water and poured it on the two glasses that's on the counter. You give the other to him, his eyes now glued to a book he just picked up. His blue gray eyes gazes up to you from behind his dark bangs that frames his face. "Thanks," He curtly responds, taking the glass of water from you hand. His fingers briefly brushing from your own, before he takes a sip and continued reading his book.

You take a peek at the book he's reading as you settle down on the other side of the couch beside him. He replies still focused on what he's reading, "Hm, crime fiction," He responds, his steel blue gaze finding you sitting comfortably, your head now resting on the arm of the couch as you prop up your phone to read something, "You?" He adds gruffly. "Webtoons, I'm liking this new find I saw so far." You reply, crossing your legs comfortably as you lay down on the other side of the couch. The exposed skin of your cheeks and inner thighs, catching up the warm air blowing from the fan.

You hear him close his book and put it down on the coffee table to crawl closer to you, "Oh? What's it about?" He asks, squeezing himself closer to you to take a look on your screen. You move a bit to give him room to share with you. "It's about a super nanny kind of protagonist finding a job, to babysit a mafia boss' son." You reply with a pleased look on your face. He reads along on your screen as you scroll, "And let me guess, you simp for the mafia boss right?" He replies his gaze displaying a deadpan expression. "Hah! Pretty much yea," You quip, "No surprises there," He sighs shaking his head with a slight smirk tugging on his face. He reads along now a little more invested in the webtoon the two of you are reading.

You feel him wrap his arms around you as he rests his chin on your shoulder. A much more comfortable position for the both of you as you read the webtoon in focused interest. His warm breath slow and gentle on the skin of your neck.

You two read a long, the webtoon now displaying a confrontation scene with a borderline romantic interaction between the nanny and the mafia boss. "Oh, that's an interesting development," He mumbles, the humming of his voice on your neck sending tingles on your spine.

"H-huh? Yea I know right. But it's not gonna progress to that until later chapters. That's how romance stories like these work," You say, fighting the urge not to get flustered at his voice and warm breath on your neck like this.

The webtoon panels now pulling up at the two characters having their faces a little too close to each other. Your heart quickens, not because of what the two of you are reading. But because of Levi's breath on your sensitive skin, the tingles his voice gives you as he whispers close to your ear his breath warming up your ear and your neck as he wraps his arm around your waist. You can't focus at all on what you're reading. "Your heart is beating fast, you really like this story hm?" He comments further, his voice low on your ear, vibrating through your neck, and sending tingles down your spine. "Levi...stop it," You tell him. You know exactly what he's doing. "Stop what?" He asks pulling away as little as he'd allow himself as his blue gray irises looks at you quizzically from his dark fringes. "I'm not doing anything," He curtly responds snuggling close with you again a subtle smirk playing on his lips momentarily. He caught you off guard after he plants a kiss on your neck.

Now this is where you put down your phone. "Not doing anything huh?" You say wrapping your arms around him in return, your cheeks a little ticklish from that kiss alone. "Mhm," He replies his voice vibrating against your sensitive skin as he snuggles closer to your neck, before moving up to whisper in your ear. His voice rough and low, "Like you're not swaying that ass of yours as you walk past me earlier," You're eyes widen, "Huh? I wasn't." You reply a whisper. "You're not?" He asks, planting another kiss on your neck, his hands wandering to find your ass cheeks. "Lies. If so, you have no business waking up this hot." He finishes his words, his hands squeezing your ass. "Fuck," You sigh a quiet groan as you feel something hard and throbbing up against your exposed thighs.

It seems like the weather is not the only thing in heat this summer.

#levi ackerman #attack on titan #captain levi #levi aot #aot #levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman x reader #levi #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi fanfiction #attack on titan fan fiction #fan fiction #fanfics #reader x canon #levi x reader smut

[celestialvoyeur]

💛💙SPIRK FIC REC💙💛

When I first found this fic the summary was so short that I really didn't know what to expect, but I was pleasantly surprised!

It's an AOS AU (Yes, I know there have been a lot of them lately, I was going through a phase lol, I'll try to switch things up a bit soon) in which Starfleet requires all it's captains to be married to provide stability and support on long missions. If they don't find one of their own before they take command then they're subject to an arrange marriage via Starfleet Command matching them up with a suitable officer based on submitted questionnaires.

As such, Kirk is being provided with a spouse and is en route to meet them for their ceremony and subsequent honeymoon. However, although Kirk and Spock are not unhappy with their assigned partners, they are a bit baffled by their honeymoon resort, which appears to be deserted.

It's a mystery laced love story and it's altogether quite endearing. 🥰

#star trek #spirk #spock #james t kirk #k/s #kirk/spock #k/s fanfic #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic rec #Star Trek aos #aos kirk #aos spock #aos spirk

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Master post

John Price x Fem!OC (Rory Sinclair)

Summary: Sgt. Rory Sinclair with the Special Reconnaissance Regiment of the British army has been called on to assist with a joint US/UK operation. Quickly discovering that her Commanding Officer for the mission is a man she's met before...

This series is set in 2017 before the events of the first MW game

Minors DNI 18+ - Slow burn, eventual smut, canon typical violence, suggestive dialogue, swearing, smoking, human trafficking, terrorism, morally grey characters

Chapter 1 - Out of the Frying Pan

Chapter 2 - Stranger in a Strange Land

Chapter 3 - Paint it, Black

Chapter 4 - Witness

Chapter 5 - Hell Broke Loose

Chapter 6 - Wait and Bleed

Chapter 7 - Will and Worry

Chapter 8 - Crave You

Chapter 9 - In For the Kill

Chapter 10 - Even if it Hurts

Chapter 11 - Future Starts Slow

Chapter 12 - Free Animal

Chapter 13 - Rock the Casbah

Chapter 14 - Question of Time

Chapter 15 - Warm Shadow

Chapter 16 - Only Human (smut)

Chapter 17 - Out of the Black

Chapter 18 - Some Unholy War

Playlist

[AO3]

#call of duty #fan fiction #john price #john price x oc #oc: rory sinclair #masterpost #long post #fic: all along the watchtower

[thisnightissparkling089]

Ivy just informed me that since the start of season 6, there have been 800 fics added to AO3, with an average of 14 stories added per day.

🤯

I'm not complaining that our Fandom is popular, I'm just amazed, lol.

#no wonder it feels overwhelming!! #it can be hard to keep up at times #but there's soooo much variety #the rookie #chenford #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #a03 fanfic #ao3 fic