#i'm still not at home but i am at least in one place? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

boyneptunee · 1 day ago

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7k, tomarry, so much fluff it'll rot your teeth

(or) Tom gets a new neighbour in the form of one Harry Potter and his dog. (Chaos ensues).

There was a bag on his front door.

Actually, there was a pink bag with white paw prints hanging from his front door handle.

Tom considered the offending object for a long moment, eyes searching up and down the hallway of his apartment building for anything that might be out of place. The same dark blue carpet that definitely needed cleaning, the same cream walls, the same fake plant by the corner that the keeper kept watering despite it clearly being plastic.

He found nothing out of the ordinary.

He sighed, long and tired. He took the offending bag by the handles and opened his door.

His head hurt behind his eyes, low and pulsing. The beginnings of a migraine had been threatening to topple over back and again for at least two hours, and the meeting he'd had to precede over had not made matters any better. There was nothing quite like having to listen to fools argue against each other over the most insignificant things for an entire day.

He was craving for the specific red painkiller that would hopefully make it go away, no matter how many times his doctors had told him the pill was bad for his health. How was he supposed to go about his life with a migraine pulsing behind his eyes and around his brain each day? They hadn't exactly given him any alternatives.

Back at the problem at hand, Tom laid the bag on top of his wooden table. The grain looked possibly offended at the colour that had been placed on top of it.

Inside, he found a handwritten letter and a single picture.

The latter had a delicate penmanship that looped and tilted just this way off center, not enough to look untidy but certainly enough for him to notice. It had not been written in a rush, but rather —and possibly— on a slanted surface.

Hi Neighbour!

My name is Aquila, and I've just arrived at my fur–ever home! I am five years old and still learning I should not bark at every stranger that walks past the door and how to ask to go potty. I am sorry if you hear me crying while my owner is away, know that I'm still getting the hang of being alone at home.

I've left some treats for you in the bag and I hope me being here is not much of an inconvenience.

If you see me on the halls please come say hi! I love meeting new friends.

A pawprint had been stamped on ink at the bottom of the letter, clearly handmade and just before the owner had sat down to write the little note, as the letters stopped just about the tip of one claw mark on the paper.

The picture featured a man with gold wired glasses, hair tied back on top of his head and holding a white haired dog. On the back of the picture, two names had been scribbled in a rushed hand.

Aquila & Harry

Harry, then.

He knew someone had moved to the apartment next door, the only one left in a single corridor that was previously occupied by a couple who'd grated on Tom's nerves more times than he could count. They had a tendency to play loud music just about the time where he got ready to sleep knowing he would have to wake early for work, and the distressing amount of wine bottles by the trash bins every morning made him weary of the means they had to afford to live in the building. If they were drinking themselves to an early grave surely they had no time to work?

But they had gone early that very same year, and so far no one else had signed the lease for the place.

Tom had toyed with the idea of moving, as the apartment next door was slightly bigger, and had better views as it sat on the corner of two streets. Then he thought about having to move his furniture around a second time after almost murdering the moving company he had hired and stopped the train of thought.

(Better let them live another day than having to deal with that again).

Inside the bag he found two bottles of licor, one chocolate and one vanilla flavoured (strangely, his favourite flavours of alcohol) and a single chocolate bar (the dark kind, strong and bitter).

Tom considered the contents for a long moment, before bringing a glass from the cupboard and pouring out the contents to mix himself a drink. The thought of taking the red pill for his headache and being forced to stay awake against his will as the painkillers worked against whatever was wrong on his brain made him want to curl into a ball and weep.

He could not loose another night of sleep. That would make it the third one in a row.

He ate a good bit of the chocolate and set to prepare himself dinner.

A knock stopped him just as he was putting water to boil.

He stood against the stove for a moment, closing his eyes and begging for a moment of solitude had been too much to ask, hadn't it?

The knock came again, three gentle rasps against the door.

The face that greeted him on the other side was non other than Harry, his new neighbour. A white puppy lay at his feet, big eyes gazing up at Tom like he was a new toy come Christmas.

The man held a red casserole at his hands and a pink blush at his cheeks, clearly flustered as he moved from foot to foot.

"Hi."

"Hello." Tom raised a single eyebrow, looking from the man's face to the casserole to his dog. "I got your bag." He settled on, as the man seemed too embarrassed to continue.

"Oh! Um—" Harry moved a bit, almost tripping on Aquila as he tried to shift his weight. "That's good."

"You needed something?"

"Not–not really." Tom took a metaphorical step back, looking at the man from head to toe. He looked just as he had in the picture, the same mess of curls tied loosely on top of his head, the same maroon sweater with golden stars on it. The same grin. "I made too much food?"

"Is that a question?" A slow smirk crawled up his face, unbidden.

Harry continued on babbling.

"I was wondering if you would like to have some? It's just–I heard you come in, and my fridge hasn't arrived yet so I can't really save any of it for later, and I didn't want to throw it out–not that it's bad! It's good I swear I cook for a living and–"

"Okay."

"–and I had already, huh?" Harry looked startled at him, clearly not expecting the answer. "Okay?"

"Yes. Come in, I'll put it on a plate and you can take your pot back." He waved a hand towards the inside of his dark apartment, he had only turned on a few lamps here and there, their orange glow gentle and dim, as his migraines more often than not made him sensitive to bright lights.

"Oh! Yes, thank you–" He moved to step inside and then stopped on his tracks, eyes settling somewhere near his feet. He looked back up at Tom, a question on the tip of his tongue.

"She can come in too, don't worry." The smile sent his way in response was possibly blinding.

The white dog –against all his judgment– entered his apartment slowly, almost sedately and looked and sniffed around from her place stuck to Harry's side. It was atypical behavior, to say the least. She was tall, and she reached Harry's hip easily at the shoulder. Her pointy ears were pinned back.

Harry must have sensed his hesitation as he guided them to the kitchen. He spoke unprompted as he guided them into the kitchen.

"She was rescued a month ago, from a breeding kennel." He sat the casserole on the counter and opened the lid to reveal a thick red sauce sitting on top of pasta, vegetables and meat alike scattered in between. It smelled heavenly, and it made his mouth water. When was the last time he'd had time to cook himself a proper meal? "She doesn't know how to behave like a dog, really. For the first few weeks she didn't know how to walk property either." A sad smile stretched on his face and his hand unconsciously reached for the dog's head. She leaned heavily on his leg and allowed herself to be pet, loving eyes looking up at Harry. "She's having a hard time with separation anxiety." Big green eyes locked on him, begging him to understand.

Tom suspected the food was a bribe, rather than a mishap, to grease him up.

"It's okay." He found himself saying, against his better judgement. The dog looked up as he spoke, assessing him with two different colored irises for a long moment. He stood close together to Harry, and as such she had no trouble leaning over and resting her weight against his own leg.

Harry startled back from where he stood, eyes wide.

Tom looked up at him, a little apprehensive at being used as a resting pole by a rather worryingly big dog.

"Oh." A laugh tore itself from his lungs and he leaned on the counter for support. "Your face! I should have taken a picture." Harry bit his lip as he leaned over to scratch Aquila behind her ear. "You are so good, sweetie." His gaze rose and met Tom's, almost conspiratorially. "She hates men." He declared, a hand on his hip.

"She clearly does not hate you." He pointed out.

"I know! But it took me days to earn her trust, I had to sit with her for hours and hours on end and I even read the entirely of the Hobbit—and you just–stood there." An amused smile settled on his face as he regained his composure.

"I am more of a cat person." He said, just to be contrite.

"Ah. That just about explains it. She has gone and fallen in love with what she cannot have. Typical." Tom rolled his eyes. Harry looked back at the food and gave Tom a suspicious look over. The facade of good Samaritan with clear intentions fell a little flat. "I hope you are not a vegetarian. I put way too much effort into this."

"Your bribe will not go unnoticed, I assure you. Now move over, I have plates right over your head." Tom moved his leg, prompting Aquila to let go and reached from around Harry to pull two plates and two glasses onto the counter, before reaching for the utensils he rarely had the energy to put to use and scooped out a good amount of the still hot pasta into the plates. "Sit on the table would you? I fear the two of you breathing down my neck will not bring dinner faster to your mouths." Harry stood still for a long moment by his side, and when Tom looked over he spied his jaw slack and mouth open.

"How did you know?"

"How did I know you had in fact meant this as an inducement or the fact you haven't eaten?"

A stretch of silence caught between them, as Harry processed the words.

"Huh, both."

"You were too nervous for someone who was just dropping off leftovers, for one. You stomach is making odd sounds, for another." At that, Harry turned impossibly pink. He hurried down the hallway towards the living room. Aquila stood by his feet for a long second before huffing and turning tail to follow her owner.

What strange new neighbours he had somehow acquired.

Harry was a lovely creature of habit, he had come to find.

Too trusting, too kind, too nervous around new people.

He seemed unused to luxuries and complained about the high prices of produce around their neighbourhood more often than not as they sat down to eat each night. (Because dinners where now mandatory, between Aquila wanting to spend time with Tom, escaping at every opportunity a door was open, and Harry still yet to have his fridge delivered, they had come to an agreement to sit down and cook each night just after Tom got home for work).

Harry, who worked at a restaurant where he was definitely overworked to the bone and didn't pay him nearly enough for him to be able to afford to live in their complex.

Harry, who wore baggy clothes three sizes too big in a style that was so clearly not his own and who flinched at loud noises, even Aquila's barks.

Harry, who smiled so softly and blushed so prettily.

Four months of their company and Tom had grown accustomed to the three rasps at his door after he arrived home.

He had grown to know the timber of Harry's sweet voice, the citrus smell of his perfume and the weight of his body as he leaned against Tom for support, whether it be after a long day of suffering through work or to hide his face in the crook of his neck during a scary film.

He had grown accustomed to Harry in ways he hadn't thought possible.

The migraine already pulsing behind his eyes at the early hours of the morning set the tone for the rest of the day.

He was not above murder as he stepped foot at work.

He wore a rage path all day through the building, and his underlyings made sure to steer clear of him all day, giving his office a wide berth.

Coming home should have been a blessing.

Except.

Except he had already taken his pills for the pain, sat down on his couch and waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

But Harry did not come.

He tried to recall the conversation from the night before, to see if there was any indicator Harry would be late, or that he would not show up at all.

He made his way to the door with long strides, decided to check if Harry was home at all.

The light coming from beneath the door was not a good indicator, as he knew Harry left multiple lamps on through the living room for Aquila (even if she didn't need it) along with several toys scattered throughout and the door to her cage door wide open.

She would come to the door if Tom knocked, he knew.

So he did.

The tippy taps of her nails against the wood alerted him of her presence. She sniffed long and hard in the space between the door and the floor, before yipping delightedly (and wasn't that wonderful? she had stopped barking first and sniffing second, and it had only taken her some four months).

But there was not a second set of steps approaching the door behind her, and Aquila remained sniffing and yipping on her own.

Tom knocked again, harder this time. He could hear the dog turning and thumping against the wood.

She did not sound distressed, or angry.

Harry was not home.

Tom sighed. He supposed he could get started on dinner on his own.

He had set the plates on the table, food still hot and covered over the oven and a glass of wine dangling from his hand.

Two hours.

He had waited two hours.

He cursed himself back to Sunday for not asking Harry for his number in all the months they had known each other and where Harry and Aquila had all but moved in.

In fact, now that he thought about it, he knew little to nothing about Harry at all.

Sure, he knew he worked in a kitchen where he was regularly verbally assaulted, from the few times he had been able to pry said information out of Harry, and that he was paid an average wage and nothing more.

He loved Aquila more than anything in the world, and Tom had come to find he did too.

But he never mentioned partners, or friends, and much less family.

His world seemed to revolve around Aquila, Tom and the restaurant.

He went out often with Aquila on long walks everyday at least twice and even took hikes around the surrounding mountains every weekend. He pampered her with toys and soft blankies and heating pads for her bed. He felt bad about leaving her in her cage everytime he left come, and as such had decorated the cage with cloths and toys and filled it to the brim with love. The rest of his apartment was suspiciously and pointedly empty.

He spent his nights more often than not in Tom's apartment, cooking or watchig Tom cook. Four months they had known each other, and not once had they missed a meal.

And at last, he worked the day shift at a restaurant downtown, far from their apartment building but not so far he had to take the public transport. He walked there everyday as soon as the sun rose and got home just after lunch rush was over. From what Tom knew and from what little he had seen of his almost empty apartment, he was taking a few classes at the local college but could not afford to take the full blunt of a year's course due to work.

So, he was a student, he worked during the day and he came to Tom at night with his little angelic companion. Nothing about his daily routine explained why he lived in the apartment next to Tom, or why he was missing right at that moment.

Another hour crawled by before he finally (fucking finally) heard the lock on the door to his left turn and open. He could hear Aquila's excited yips and turns as she greeted her owner.

Tom was by his own door and out of the apartment before he could blink. He caught up to Harry just as he was about to close his door.

When he caught a look at his face, he foced his way between the door and Harry, crowding into his space. He had the beggings of a large bruise on his cheek, and his lip had been split open and oozed blood in between breaths, dripping down his chin and neck where it had been carelessly and roughly cleaned.

He didn't look Tom in the eye as he took a step back. Aquila seemed to sense something as off, and stood between their bodies with her hackles raised.

"Harry?" He received no response, and the man only looked towards the floor and away, arms clutching at his side. Actually, he was standing a bit funny, leaning more on one side to the other. Tom narrowed his eyes. "Come on darling, I have dinner ready for you."

"I'm not hungry." Harry muttered back, turning away from him.

Something hot and angry licked at his insides, begging to be let out and to swallow whoever had decided hurting Harry had been a good idea.

He took a deep breath and let it go.

"Dinner, Harry." He insisted, his tone booking no argument. "And possibly painkillers, after. Lord knows you have no medicine in that decrepit bathroom you call your own." He approached him, mindful of Aquila who, as much as she seemed to love Tom, was loyal to Harry to a fault.

He leaned into his space, breathing the same air. If Harry minded Tom so insistent in his space he didn't protest. He leaned his forehead against the side of Harry's curls and took him in his arms gently and steered him out the door.

Aquila followed silently.

Dinner was awkward.

Harry barely touched his food and Tom was too concentrated on his face to finish his.

He did not ask questions he knew he would not receive an answer to. Instead, he let Harry stew in his silence, absentmindedly petting Aquila beneath the table.

Finally, when it was clear neither of them would eat a single bite more, he rose from his chair and set about finding his first aid kit.

When he got back, Harry was still sat by the table, long fingered hand moving the silver fork from one side of the plate to the other, green eyes looking at a point somewhere beyond the living room.

The anger simmered inside of him like a dragon.

He set the kit on the wooden surface a little too harshly, making Harry slam back to himself and startle where he sat. Aquila raised her head, curious at the noise.

Tom took their plates away to be washed later, and when he came back he found Harry sitting sideways on his chair and looking from the aid kit to the front door.

Hah. As if.

"Up." Tom instructed with a wave of his hand. Harry looked up at him, startled. "Get up Harry Potter, or so help me I will drag you up."

Harry's bottom lip stuck out, a knee jerk reaction each time Tom added his last name in conversation, like a reprimand.

He stood up on wobbly legs and tilted his head at Tom, waiting.

He was terribly obedient when he was upset.

He sighed.

He grabbed Harry carefully by one thin wrist and moved him around to the head of the table. He crowded into his space once more and lifted Harry onto the surface by his hips, prompting him to sit by the red kit he had left at the corner.

He tilted Harry's head back by his chin to get a better look at the shiner on his face. Harry stiffened beneath his hands but did not complain or pull away.

He set about cleaning the wound on his lip and looking for an ice pack for what was sure to be a big bruise on the side of his face.

After, he set a single pain killer cut into two by his side and a tall glass of water, knowing from experience Harry could not take his pills dry.

He settled himself in the space between his legs and leaned his hands on the wooden surface by his hips, a stubborn tilt to his eyebrows on place.

Harry would not escape without giving out some answers.

"Who did this to you?" He would not walk around useless questions. Straight to the point and after, straight to bed.

"No one." Harry mulled for a long second. "I fell on the restaurant st–"

"Don't bullshit me. You know better than to lie to my face." Harry snapped his mouth shut with a click. The green of his eyes seemed terribly dull. "Harry," he started, after taking a deep breath and letting it go to calm the rage begging to spill over "no one will harm you here. No one will touch a single hair on your head while you are with me, do you hear? Not a single person. Let my grave be spat on and my body turn to ash before I let anyone treat you with anything less than respect." He touched Harry's cheek, mindful of his sensitive skin as he settled a hand on the back of his curly head. "You need not lie to me, darling. Whatever it is you are hoping to hide, whoever it is that has hurt you has no power here."

Harry's lip wobbled and trembled.

Aquila whined at their feet.

Harry gasped a breath in too fast, hands reaching for the edge of the table as he leaned forward. Tom rubbed his neck with careful fingers. When he lifted his head again, tears where making their way down his face.

"It's a long story." He tried, at first. Tom leaned on his space and hummed, encouraging. "My uh, my uncle. He showed up at the restaurant today. I guess he wanted to see if his nephew was as much as a failure as he had expected." A bitter smile grazed his lips, and one of his hands lifted to hold onto Tom's wrist. He leaned a bit into his touch. "I thought him asking to meet the chef would just a brief talk down on how awful my cooking was–and that would be it. But it wasn't." He paused, closing his eyes and hiding his face against Tom's arm. "He was waiting for me by the back door when I finished my shift. He—" A hiccup left his lips, and it was enough for Tom.

He embraced Harry, holding him close and letting him sob on his shoulder. Aquila bumped her cold nose against his leg and when he looked down he found two judgmental eyes looking up at him.

A shudder went through Harry and the hiccups increased. Tom leaned a head on top of his curls and dragged a heavy hand up and down his back.

He sighed, taking a moment to give Harry a candy that had been shoved somewhere deep in his emergency kit.

"Eat." He mumbled in the space between them, having leaned back to look at him. Harry took the sweet into his mouth with no complains, tears still streaming down his face. "That's it, good boy."

He let Harry borrow himself again onto his neck, and set himself to wait out the storm.

Long minutes passed.

His weight grew more and more as Harry leaned most of his body on Tom.

He let Harry slump completely against him, tired and sleepy and hurt all in one, before he took the executive decision to move him to a more comfortable location.

He grabbed Harry by the back of his thighs, shushing him as he protested between weak sobs, and walked them to his bedroom.

He put Harry down carefully, and he was asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. A few stubborn tears made their way down his face, but his breathing evened out and his body slumped in exhaustion.

He let Aquila settle at the foot of the bed, curling in tight circles and keeping watch towards the door.

The candy laced with sedatives certainly worked magic.

Then he was out the door with his hand on his phone.

Finding out exactly who Vernon Dursley was and how he was related to one Harry Potter was easy.

All he had to do was wake Abraxas and prompt him to look into Harry's files. He had been listed in the past as his next of kin–he was the husband of his only known living relative, Petunia Dursley nee Evans. His mother's sister.

Then Abraxas found his private records, and it went downhill from there.

Harry Potter, by all accounts and purposes seemed to be a troubled teen. Skipping classes, trouble concentrating, showing up with bruises and scrapes all over his body. A delinquent if anyone cared to ask.

He seemed to live in the background of everyone's mind's for eighteen years.

Then a god father seemingly popped out of the woods, rich beyond measure. And this man. This man Tom knew by name, if not by face.

Sirius Black. He had been wrongfully convicted of murder and promptly let loose once the court had been aware of his case. He was deemed unstable and too erratic to care for a child, and thus Harry had been left at the mercy of his aunt and uncle until he turned eighteen.

That's where his records all but stopped.

There was, however, a single property on his name: it listed the apartment right next to Tom's as his.

The camaras they found pointing at the alley at the back of a decrepit looking restaurant were more than enough to put a bounty on the man.

Tom made sure all traces of it were gone.

Tom would have to get the real story out of Harry sometime.

Someother time, that is.

For now, he had what he needed.

He gave Abraxas the green light.

Come morning, Vernon Dursley would be nothing but a bad memory on a child's nightmares.

He went back to Harry and settled himself on the uncomfortable armchair he had been meaning to throw out but kept forgetting to. Laying next to Harry as he was felt wrong, even by his standards, and leaving him alone (even if Aquila snoozed by his feet) felt even worse.

So he laid his feet in the bed by Aquila's tail and rested back against the armchair.

He fell asleep with the sound of two synchronized breaths.

Harry, strangely enough, woke first.

He was groggy and disoriented, and only Aquila's familiar weight by his feet let him relax enough to curl into his side. His legs bumped into something as he tried to bring them closer to his chest, and his breathing hitched on his throat.

He lowered the heavy blanket covering his eyes and took a peak at the morning scene in front of him.

Tom Riddle sat in a position that could not be comfortable to sleep on, in a green antique armchair right by Harry. His long legs were stretched out and his feet rested up on the bed, and Aquila had taken the opportunity to lay her own head against the man's shins.

His curls fell over his eyes in a display Harry had never seen in the time he had known him. He always seemed so poised. So put together.

His breathing was deep and even, and both of his big pale hands rested on his stomach.

Harry considered him from his place on the bed.

So long in fact, that when he stopped counting the curls on the man's head and lowered his gaze to his face, he found himself trapped by two intense blue eyes.

From the first moment Harry had settled eyes on his neighbour, he knew he would be trouble. After all, there was no way this handsome, rich man spent all his evenings alone entertaining a broke college student and his emotional support dog.

And yet.

And yet, there he was.

He was more patient than his demeanor would betray, and he always treated Harry and Aquila gently, with care. He let his space be invaded again and again each night, he let Harry make a home in his kitchen and a mess of his furniture, between his clumsiness and Aquila's white hairs just about on every surface of the place.

He was such an intense person, dry and a little abrasive at times, but he always smiled at Harry like there was a secret in the space between them, just theirs.

There was a reason Aquila had taken an instant like to him.

(Harry had too, even if his intentions at first had been to bribe the man into compliance, to not tell on Harry for having a troublesome dog).

(Harry shouldn't have worried in the first place. About Tom. Or Aquila).

"How are you feeling, darling?" His voice was raspy, and he winced as he moved his neck from side to side. Clearly he had slept on an uncomfortable position. "Harry?"

"Hmm? Better?"

"Is that a question?" Tom leaned forward into Harry's space, caressing a warm hand through his loose curls.

"Better." Harry mumbled back, eyes closing and snuggling deeper into the mattress.

Tom hummed back, pleased.

"I'll make breakfast, yeah?" The hand settled at the back of his curls and helf firm. "Sleep some more, Harry."

Harry could do nothing but agree.

He liked Tom's apartment.

He liked it more than his own, at least.

Sirius had given him a whole place for him and him alone (and no furniture).

Harry had been too embarrassed to point it out.

So he had started small.

A mattress, a chair and a table. Utensils.

Then Aquila had come along, and he had not been able to help himself.

He had bought countless things: her cage, blankets, dog beds and cushions alike, toys and treats and clothes and so many collars to stack on one another that made her look like an old lady holding her pearls–

And then, Tom Riddle had come along. And Harry had little need to be in his empty apartment, other than spend the few hours between the time he got back from work, and when Tom arrived back at his place.

So. He liked Tom's apartment.

This, however, had been the first time he had stepped foot into his bedroom.

He knew, logically, that their apartment plans were the same. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, huge living room. A separate kitchen and a big balcony. All of it overseeing the city at their feet. And yet.

And yet, sleeping in Tom's bed, in Tom's room felt alien. New.

He looked at the apartment with new eyes now.

It somehow looked cozier.

He found traces of himself and Aquila all over. From dog toys to blankets thrown over the living room couch, to the dog bed in the corner, to colourful cushions Harry had brought from his own apartment that did not match Tom's own monochrome greys and blacks. Even the carpet on the living room had been his choice, after he had complained one too many times about the cold wood beneath his feet as they sat brushing Aquila and making a mountain of white fur by her side. Tom had snapped back that he would get a cushioned carpet just so Harry would shut up.

And he did.

In the kitchen there were even more traces of himself, things he had forgotten be had brought over from his apartment so long ago. From utensils and pans he had picked out from a magazine one day as they sat around, to silly mugs on Tom's cupboards that would not be mistaken for his.

Had they... had they been living together like this for so long? Harry had not even noticed when Tom's home became his own.

He wondered how long it could last.

Tom was standing by the stove, and by the ever growing pile right by his hip he was making pancakes.

There was an easy lean to his body, shoulders relaxed forward and he was leaning most of his weight on one leg. His hands moved in sure circles, mixing the batter and dropping it on the hot pan. His curls remained untidy, brushed back by a careless hand and in disarray.

Aquila bumped into his side and whined long and low.

Tom turned at the sound, looking over one shoulder, flat spatula on one hand. His blue eyes scanned Harry from the tip of his hair to his littlest toes. Only when he appeared sure that he was not further injured in the minutes that he was not within his sight does he turned back to the stove, turning off the heat and leaving the utensils by the plate filled with food.

He turned to Harry.

"How are you feeling, darling?"

There was a knot of worry ever growing down his throat. A worry that had not gone away since he was little and could not comprehend why no one would love him as he loved them.

"Better." Was all he could utter, leaning his body on the archway to the kitchen. Tom made a humming sound, approaching with long strides.

He took Harry's chin in his hands and tilted his head up against the light. By the wince on his face, he could tell without having the need to feel around his skin that the bruise had gotten darker.

"We should ice this." His fingers moved around the shape of the bruise, careful not to press too hard onto the skin. "How did you sleep?"

"Like the dead." Tom hummed.

"I figured. Why don't you sit down, darling? Let me finish here and we'll eat."

Tom glanced at the timer on the oven and set about finishing their meal.

Harry had a brief moment of panic where he realized he should be at work. His throat closed and he must have made some type of noise, as Tom returned to his side.

"What? What is it?" His hands settled on his body, gentle and searching for any hurt he couldn't see.

"I—work."

"Fuck work, Harry. You're hurt and you should rest."

"I can't miss a day, they'll cut my check and I can't—"

"Don't worry about it." His voice was firm an self assured.

"Tom! I can't afford—" Hands settled on his shoulders and brought his head back up. Two intense blue eyes looked down at him.

"Don't. Worry. About it." It was all but a promise, as he willed Harry to walk down the short hallway towards the living room. His hands guided Harry to a chair and he sat down heavily. "Whatever you need I can more than make up for, Harry."

"And if they fire me?"

"Then you'll be better for it." His hand grabbed his cheeks with one hand and squished. "I mean it, darling. Whatever you need I can get you." He held Harry still as he let him process the words. Finally, Harry nodded.

Had he promised to take care of him and Aquila?

Surely Tom didn't mean he would—be Harry's sugar, did he?

The thought alone made his cheeks warm.

Aquila bumped her cold nose against his side and he squeaked.

Alright then.

After breakfast, Tom insisted of driving him to a private clinic to get checked out, and no matter how much Harry protested and grumbled and actually held onto his front door with both hands for dear life, he would not take 'no' for an answer.

As it was, he found he had two cracked ribs and the split lip had possibly, definitely, certainly needed sutures. (Oh, well. Too late for that).

Tom sat by his side like a particularly dark cloud of anger and resentment, looking down at the poor doctor that addressed him with way too many honorifics to be normal. He also cradled Harry gently and helped him up the examination table.

By the time they got back home, Harry was about ready to starfish on Tom's bed and hope for the best next time he woke. Hopefully in a week's time.

The doctor had given him a list of things he couldn't do, such as: no sudden movements, no heavy height lifting, and definitely no carrying Aquila up.

Tom sat him down on the couch of his living room and went about collecting his medication. As such, he probably didn't notice the fact that the news channel had been left on the TV.

Harry watched with a growing pit in his stomach as the news played out.

Vernon Dursley had been found late that night (early in the morning) by a dried up river bed in the woods. His body had been mauled by a wild creature, the reporter sad. A tragedy, for his family and friends.

No one, it seemed, dared to point out why the ageing man had been alone at night in such a place.

The news reporter only spoke of a kind man who left behind a frail wife and a single son. No mention of Harry.

He was not breathing.

Tom Riddle came back in the room at that moment, tall glass of water on one hand a handful of small boxes on the other.

His steps halted as he took one look at the TV, eyes dispassionate and cold, the kind of look that made children run the other way and people cross the street, before they settled on Harry, and his eyes were warm and kind again.

Harry gulped in a handful of air and struggled to regain his composure.

There was a battle of emotions inside of him.

No one had ever stood up for him, ever. No one had ever looked at Harry with anything more than contempt on their eyes (except maybe Sirius, and he only ever looked sad when he wasn't wasted).

No one would ever kill for Harry, surely.

And yet he knew, deep down, Tom Riddle had everything to do with the mauling of an old man who was getting on his years right after assaulting his nephew.

There was guilt, and mortification. There was also a curl of satisfaction so strong it made Harry question his sanity.

Tom scanned his face, possibly gauging his reaction. A tiny satisfied smirk stole away at his lips, and it was about all the confirmation Harry needed.

Aquila pawed at her dish by their side, and the moment was broken.

Tom let out a long breath, like he'd been holding it in the whole time he looked at Harry, before settling the meds by the small coffee table and urging Harry to take them.

He pet Aquila softly on her head and tugged lightly and playfully on one of her ears. He promised dinner for her and dissapeared again towards the kitchen.

Aquila looked back at Harry, a goofy look to her as her tongue lolled out and she yipped. She looked content, full and a little mischievous.

He was being silly, he decided.

Tom Riddle knew the exact moment Harry caught on. He was terribly quick, the little snake.

He had watched from the corner of the hallway as Harry was stuck dumb by the news on the TV. How the thought process went about and around his head before settling in the cold facts. Tom had leaned his head on the wall, a smile he couldn't fight off right on his face.

Harry was his. Aquila too. And nothing would ever hurt them again.

Days turned into weeks, and Harry never really left.

His apartment was left empty and unused, and one fine friday afternoon while they watched movies snuggled on the couch Tom asked Harry why he hadn't rented it out in the first place, since the monthly payment would have been more than enough to get him a small apartment somewhere in the heart of the city and even leave some money to spare for him to spend on the daily.

Harry—well. He had never thought about it, and he was a little too embarrassed to admit it.

It had all happened terribly fast, after all. Sirius suddenly in his life, the new apartment, Aquila, and Tom.

Then Tom asked him if he would like to rent it out now. The matters of where Harry would stay rather obvious.

"Are you asking me to move in with you?" He couldn't help but ask, the need for confirmation strong in his gut.

"Aren't you already?" Tom answered back, a smirk playing at his lips as he tilted his head in Harry's direction.

"I wouldn't be able to pay my half of the rent and—"

"Harry." He interrupted. The look on his face was terribly indulgent, amused. "You don't need to go back to work. I make more than enough."

"Are you serious?"

"More than. You can be my trophy wife." He said, teasing just a bit if the raised eyebrows and amused eyes had anything to do with it. A slow smile crept up his face, and he leaned his body on Harry where they sat side ny side on the couch. Harry squeaked as he tried to fight him off. "You can prepare dinner for me every day and we can take Aquila on her night walks together—"

"We already do that, Tom!" He laughed as nimble fingers tickled his sides.

"—And we can go grocery shopping together like one of those disgusting couples that don't move past the produce section—" He continued on, like he didn't have Harry down at the mercy of his hands.

"We do that too!" He laughed uncontrollably, his ribs protesting the movement.

"—you already sleep in my bed, you eat my food in my living room in my apartment, you even water my plants—"

"Okay! Okay, point taken." Harry laid on his back, face caged in by two strong arms. Tom gazed down at him gently.

"Good."

The kiss planted on his forehead preceded the one left on his lips.

Tom was warm and heavy, a grounding weight that melted his anxiety away and left him gasping for air as teeth grazed the wound on his bottom lip and bit down. Pain surely shouldn't feel that good.

Tom leaned more of his weight down and one of his hands sneaked around his hips, making him arch up and away from the touch and into Tom's body.

Tom took small bites of his cheek, his jaw before descending like a vengeful god onto his neck. He bit down with intent, and no matter how much Harry protested and tried to pry him away from his skin he didn't let up until he was satisfied.

He feared he may have woken a monster.

The lips that returned to his mouth turned more gentle, languid and warm. Tom slid his tongue against Harry's and he could do nothing but hum at the feeling of the both of them, together and moving as one.

Harry had never felt so free.

There was a bag in the door to his new apartment.

The bag was pink, and it had pawprints on it.

Inside, there was a letter and a single picture of a couple and their white haired dog.

(OR) pruning shears on AO3, 7K, one shot

#soulseeker #ao3 #tomarry #fanfic #tom riddle #tomarrymort #archive of our own #tomarry fic #fic recs #hp fic recs #tom kills people #what is new #so fluffy #its on ao3

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sunaglow · 10 hours ago

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If none did this until now, lemme be the one to give her 2 cents about PV and SMilk's charts LMAO (I am bored). Or well, at least the main 6 placements. (Sun Sign, Moon Sign, Rising Sign, Mercury Sign, Venus Sign, Mars Sign)

So the devs confirmed PV as a Virgo time ago so that's his Sun sign. Considering his emotional maturity, Cancer Moon fits him the best bcs that's the Moon's home sign/the sign that rules the Moon. Deff Virgo Mercury considering his whole way of speaking being very Mercury coded ("Anything can be solved through conversation") and Mercury is ruled by Gemini and Virgo. Obv he doesn't have a Gemini Mercury so that leaves Virgo. Which fits with his self-judgement and perfectionism. Considering his pacifist and fair nature I do see Libra Mars. These 2 placements are still smth I'm debating on but: Leo Rising and Virgo Venus/Taurus Venus are my takes so far for these 2 placements, might change my mind on these 2.

Noooow SMilk. This one is a bit tricky and maybe y'all won't agree with me but hear me out: Scorpio Sun. He's obsessive, passionate, spiritual, and if the theory I saw that he's a product of what society made of him/he got corrupted bcs of the way ppl were denying the truth and preferred the lies and that's why he started lying, he fits the usual Scorpio trope of ppl projecting onto them and seeing the dark side of the world. Scorpios are also incredibly stubborn since they're a fixed sign and unhealthy Scorpios can be controlling. Now onto the Moon, after some debating, I got to the conclusion of 2 candidates: Aquarius or Capricorn Moon. Why? Because the Moon is ruled by Cancer, the opposite of it is Capricorn and by default Saturnian Moon is a detrimental placement bcs it makes emotions and being in touch with your own feelings extremely difficult through life. Now, why Aquarius? Because Aquarius in old and new astrology rules Saturn along with Capricorn besides Uranus. Aquarius is considered a Saturnian placement. So by default, Aquarius Moon is also a detrimental placement to the Moon by extension. And it's the Saturnian Moon SMilk has Imo. Capricorn Moons at their worst tend to isolate themselves from the world and avoid being emotionally open in any manner whatsoever and can drown themselves in work or anything else they wanna do. They crave an emotional connection but they're stopping themselves from that.

Meanwhile Aquarius Moons are desperate. Desperate to find a place to belong, desperate to have someone that understands them in their lives because they are incredibly prone to being misunderstood by everyone. They're the type of people that can feel alone even if surrounded by people simply because there is no depth in the bonds they have with said people and they want more than that. At their worst, Aquarius Moons have trouble connecting with themselves on an emotional level, autopiloting a lot and having identity crisis moments. And they can also develop a God-Complex.

Aquarius Moons are also humanitarians and have a sharp eye in noticing everyone, the things they do and why, but they can't do this for themselves. Which explains...a lot from SMilk's actions in ep 8. So yeah, he is a Saturnian Moon in my eyes, specifically Aquarius Moon.

Speaking of ep 8, after what we saw there is no deny that this guy has Scorpio Venus. I don't think I have to explain this one.

Mercury-wise, since it can only be in 3 signs according to its law/passing time, (Libra, Scorpio and Sag since he's a Scorpio Sun), I'm undecided between Sag and Scorpio Mercury, this is still smth I'm debating with myself about.

Same goes for the rising, considering Gemini Rising as of now since the first impression ppl got of him before and even now is just how knowledgeable he is (Gemini rules Mercury, they're gifted in the brains department by default) alongside being a total goofball but again, I'm still debating on that.

EDIT: I forgot to mention, SMilk is deff a Leo Mars. Dramatic as hell, screaming/yelling when mad and saying stuff he doesn't mean in the heat of the moment but still emotional. Bonus: Leos are the actors of the zodiac from what I learnt

Whoever read this till the end, thank you 🤧 Was thinking about this ever since I started loving these 2 but wanted to wait until ep 8 to assign SMilk a Moon sign and oh lord did he deliver!!! Besides the things I'm still debating about, I won't change my mind about anything else, I just wanted to share this in case anyone is interested!

I wanna end this post by saying PV sure has a type since White Lily was confirmed a Scorpio by the Devs LMFAOOOOOO

#shadowvanilla #pureshadow #shadow milk cookie x pure vanilla cookie #pure vanilla cookie #shadow milk cookie

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robo-dino-puppies · 5 months ago

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I'm so tired ughhhhh for the past whatever months basically everyone who I've ever helped out with petsitting decided to take vacations one after the other so I've been running around doing that, and although I do love (most 😅) of the pets it's really not my favorite to stay at other people's houses. all my stuff is at home :( so that's exhausting.

I'll put some good things first:

-saw some snakes finally! I haven't seen as many this year as I used to. this one wanted to be a square I guess?

-SMOL CRAB

-took care of a friend's cat and he is an AFFECTION MACHINE so that was sweet (Sophie is not very affectionate. I mean she can be, but only in her own way, and because of that I really truly appreciate when she shows me any scrap of kindness lmao. but I miss having a cat that wants to just hang out with me…)

-despite being all over the place I have managed to play dragon age thank u gaming laptop - I'll do another post for that :D

cut for the less fun stuff~

some annoying/angry-making things that just all added up:

-phone had a spicy pillow battery situation, luckily nothing exploded or caught on fire (tho it got SUPER FUCKING HOT - thankfully I had a backup phone of the same model bc I'm not ready to give up my headphone jack)

-but when I transferred all my shit, an app I use for my job got cranky and I have no idea why! I've switched phones before and it's been fine! and this is the exact same model!

-the weather (hot)

-tendon in my elbow got mad when walking a new-to-me dog that likes to pull

-elderly neighbor had a health situation that I was the first one to discover (she's fine but. it was stressful)

-there are a lot of small flying bugs swarming everywhere. I keep walking into them

-elderly neighbor nearly fell multiple times when I was on a walk with her and her dog and I had to dive to catch her so she wouldn't faceplant

-which made muscles on one side of my back and the opposite shoulder very angry

-inevitably: swallowed a bug

-I walked a mild-mannered dog I'm familiar with but when some unleashed (friendly-looking) dogs approached her she started FLIPPING THE FUCK OUT snarling, lunging, barking (while my muscles were still sore from elderly neighbor incident)

-owner was like "oh I thought I told you. yeah she's started reacting aggressively to random dogs sometimes" ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ OK THAT SEEMS LIKE SOMETHING TO BE CONCERNED ABOUT

-🤬

-also angry at people who let their dogs off leash in public areas

-people who don't pick up their dogs' shit

-… people

-there were guests of that dog's owners staying at her house so I had to coordinate by text every time I went to walk her and… I know this is like. a dumb first-world social anxiety problem but. it was just exhausting. they were nice and it was fine but two weeks of texting strangers multiple times a day was just ONE MORE THING

-said dog apparently stole a bunch of muffins from them so while on a walk with me she had diarrhea. to put it... mildly. (she's a golden and has plenty of butt-fur) fun!

-allergies

-headaches

like. can i not be so tired anymore. that would be nice.

#life things #i know i basically disappeared from the internet lmao sorry but i have just been wiped #i think september will be calmer #i'm still not at home but i am at least in one place?

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icewindandboringhorror · 5 months ago

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It always seems a bit unbalanced on The Great Food Truck Race when there will be multiple teams who are cooking a wide variety of complex dishes with 10 different components and a bunch of prep work, and then there's that one team who like... exclusively serves plain crepes with some premade nutella on them, or plain waffles with just some whipped cream and cut up strawberries lol...

#AND then they'll be the winning team or whatever and its like... wow... imagine that... I wonder how its possible that they can get #more dishes out faster than the other teams... hrrmm.... lol #Not that they aren't still doing work like. obviously it's still hard and there's still a sales component and other stuff to be done #but It's just kind of unbalanced seeming when one group is serving like grilled shrimp sandwich with 3 homemade sauces and a #slaw and two sides and the other people are like... slicing fruit and drizzling a bottle of hersheys chocolate syrup on top of some thing #they just threw in a waffle maker for a few minutes #You see the footage of the teams cooking and everyone is like prepping a ton of different things and meat and vegetables and they have #boiling pots and pans and fryers going and tossing stuff in bowls and compiling these multi component dishes #and then That One Team is always just casually slicing bananas or doing some whipped cream in a bowl gbjhbhj #They usually dont even make their own caramel or chocolate sauces or anything. Nutella out of a jar babey!#So all you're really Making is like... whipped cream. and some sort of batter (waffle. crepe. etc)#If I got placed in a competition like that and I found out one of my opponents just sold waffles or pancake sticks or etc #like that I would just be like... okay.. I'm out then. bye. OR I would pivot and be like.. right I shall remove all complexity from my menu #whatsoever and just start selling plain balls of fried dough with powdered sugar or plain fries with nothing on them or something lol #update: OH my god.. one of these teams on a newer season is selling a 'bonus add on' where you can add #cinnamon sugar and caramel syrup (possibly not even home made by them???? just from a bottle) for $5 extra on your order #If I bought a $12 waffle from a food truck and they were like 'hey do you want to upgrade? for only $5 we'll drizzle a teaspoon #of caramel and sprinkle a little sugar and cinnamon on there!' I feel like I would cancel my order and walk away.#that is a $1 add on at MOST.. for a freaking DRIZZLE of caramel sauce LOL #and of course this team is in the top 3... squirrel.... come ON...#Which I know all these shows are fake and bad and whatever. I dont watch them seriously. I think I liked the first few seasons #but then anything past like season 4 (or whenever they started having established people who already ran food trucks on there #instead of taking a bunch of peope who had never run a food truck before and giving them one - which is a much more equal footing #premise to me) I have just been increasingly annoyed at and I really just have the show on for background noise #whilst doing chores or something and am not genuinely paying that much attention but... my god.. At least try to pretend its fair lol #WHICH I KNOWW... you can say 'well the other teams could do similar if they wanted.' or blah blah. tehcnically it's THEIR choice to #make stuff from scratch and not sell a bunch of packaged frozen chicken wings dropped into a fryer over a shitty 6min waffle or etc.#but... I will never respect a $5 for 1tbsp of caramel sauce type of situation.. even if they win.. you will always be losers in my heart #So many teams with real cooking skill & good concepts go home to the 'slap nutella on fried dough' people... how...

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phagodyke · 1 year ago

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been shitting myself over joining one of these outdoor socials but I was rly brave + showed up to one of them but there's no one HERRREEEE

#AM I IN THE WRONG PLACE???????? girl help I'm still new to [city] idk my way around that well 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#at least its not as embarrassing as it could bc cuz the parkrun just ended so theres tons of ppl milling around in gym gear #i blend right in...#this is so sad tho i was hyped now im gonna have to go home tail between my legs and do a weight workout instead :^(((((#i think they normally meet in other places so hopefully next time. ill show up the right place LMFAO #I swear theyre in the wrong place tho. like this is the exact postcode and building they put in the ad????????#wish I had one of their numbers so i could text and ask where tf they are. or if it got cancelled #AUGHHHHHHHHHHHH #ok well. at least i tried that was so brave of me <3 #.diaries

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maddiemuu · 3 months ago

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just ate a bagel at the airport. coming to terms with the fact that it was probably my dinner for today. it is 4:40 PM.

#maddie meows #takeout is probably not gonna be an option once i'm back + i am NOT gonna have it in me to cook lol #at least not takeout from a place that won't upset my stomach :')#and i need to go grocery shopping so the pickings? they are slim.#can't remember if i have protein bars at home still. i think so.#not that that's any less sad as a “dinner”#ONE A THOSE DAYS I GUESS...

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bunny-jpeg · 4 months ago

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sibling situation

simon 'ghost' riley

cw: smut & plot, mactavish!reader, size kink/difference, missionary sex, unprotected sex, marriage & babies (at the end), romance, simon's found family

this rabbit runs on reblogs & comments! feed the rabbit!

simon knew that johnny had a sister. you had been brought up in conversation tons of times. after the death of your parents, you and johnny were really all each other had. but johnny left for the military right before turning eighteen and you struggled to put yourself through university. it wasn't the easiest life and simon could understand, he had his own scars of his childhood.

"so, why are you dragging me out here again, johnny?"

"get ya out of that shoe box flat. got a little more leg room where i am."

johnny had driven the car all the way to edinburgh with a promise that a little time away would do wonders for the other man. simon had his ear talked off about how london was just too big, and while edinburgh was a city. it would be a break from the intense metropolitan of london. if need be the two of them and you could go on a getaway to the countryside.

"this better be good, johnny."

"ah, don't worry! i promise, you'll have the time of your life!" johnny reached over and slapped his friend on the back, "plus, you have to meet my sister."

the flat that you shared with johnny was well kept. of course it was, your brother was out most of the year with an automatic deposit for rent and when he was home, it was so ingrained with the military that things were kept tidy. and you on the other hand enjoyed tidiness as well.

even if cleaning the place in his absence felt a bit much sometimes, you still at least picked up your socks off the floor, put the clean dishes in the cupboard and washed out the carafe of the coffee maker. but you had worked over time to make sure everything was perfect, not for your brother (he could clean himself), but rather the mysterious guest that he was bringing.

you didn't want his lieutenant to think you lived like animals!

when the knock on the front door came, you happily welcomed them. your gaze was captured away from your grinning brother and rather the larger man beside him. he wore a black medical face mark, but you could see the tiredness in his eyes. the mop of blond hair and a slight scar over his eyebrow.

"oh, kid, this simon. simon riley, my lt." johnny smiled, patting his fellow solider on the arm.

you shot him a glance, "i'm almost thirty, johnny. i'm far from a kid." you were a bite fiery, simon liked that.

johnny beamed back at you, "but you'll always be my little sister. gotten into trouble while i was gone?"

you let both men in and replied, "well except for yelling at those stupid kids from the secondary school about smoking in front of my window. nothing else really happened."

johnny dropped his bags on the hardwood floor and kicked off his boots. he put them correctly by the door before he stretched his arms over his head, "where's that guy you were seein'. teddy or somethin'?"

simon stood a little straighter. of course you had a boyfriend, look at you!

you waved your hand, "oh, he's long gone. i guess cousin nikki's words are true." you looked at your brother, "never date a man in finance. turns out he had more than one bonnie in his pocket."

johnny dropped his shoulders and remarked, "never liked the guy anyway. seemed a little uptight, would never survive a gathering of the mactavish's." he laughed.

simon felt odd in the space. seeing the siblings interacting. he thought of his own brother for a moment. instead he just followed suit and took off his heavy boots as well.

you looked at simon, "i hope it's okay that you take the couch. this place is only two bedrooms. the couch." you gestured to it, "does pull out so hopefully you'll have enough room. but, if you don't, tomorrow my lovely brother can give up his room."

"my room!" johnny replied loudly, "i've still got sand in my crack for the mission and you're givin' my room!"

you shot your brother a glance which johnny coward from. no words had to be said. johnny knew that it would be the right thing to do. after all, simon was his guest.

the afternoon went by slowly, and you and johnny moved through the small kitchen like a team. johnny was good at dicing and you were good at keeping an eye on the sauteeing vegetables.

"simon." you said which made simon look up from his spot at the small dining table. your eyes met and you pushed some hair out of your face, "two things. one, there should be a headband on the table it's soft and used for make-up. i need to get this hair out of my eyes. secondly, johnny never said that you had any dietary issues. is there anything i should avoid? i just sort of got our normal grocery order."

simon perked a little bit more, "oh i don't have any allergies or anything, ma'am." he gave a small nod, "i could eat anythin'."

you nodded, "okay, excellent!"

the blond found in endearing. it was almost hypnotic watching you put together the vegetables with the hearty pasta sauce. you worked a stove top like no other. the only problem was that your brother kept getting in the way of his sight of you.

been a while since a woman cooked him a meal.

simon got up quickly and gave you the headband. it was soft and pink colour with two sewn on cat ears made of the same material. you put it on and simon's heart skipped a beat. you were just so beautiful.

dinner of pasta, toasted buns and salad were served with a bottle of grocery store wine. the three of you drank, ate and chatted. you and johnny had most of the conversation while simon enjoyed listening.

he figured out that he could listen to you talk forever.

"well, i'm tired." johnny said as he rubbed his eyes. he finished the rest of his wine before he got up. he patted you on the top of the head, "i'll do the dishes in the mornin'. thanks for dinner, kid."

you rolled your eyes, pouring yourself another glass, "i'm not a kid."

johnny chuckled then looked to simon, "she'll get ya comfortable for the evenin'. i'll see ya tomorrow." before his tired steps headed towards the bedroom. soon the door closed and the sound of his body hitting the bed could be softly heard.

you leaned back in the kitchen chair, one leg draped over the other with your arms crossed. you admitted, "it must be hard to date. finding someone who understands your world."

simon stretched out a little more in his chair. he eyed the empty wine glass in front of him, "i try not to think about it so hard."

"i've heard stories about you. the terrifying ghost. there one moment, gone the next." you then reached across the table to drag a finger down the inside of simon's wrist, "i wonder if i had you in my bed tonight, if you'd be gone by morning."

your admission made simon's dark eyes grow a little wider. he said, "well, i have nowhere else to go."

you smiled a little, "must be lonely. i know it's lonely for me. to feel close to someone."

simon asked, "do you want to sleep with me miss mactavish?"

you chuckled lowly, as to not awake your brother in his room. you leaned back a little once more and gazed at him. you were definitely johnny's brother. the look in your eye said it all. you tilted your head a little to the side and asked, "is it that obvious, mister riley?"

the sound of wooden chairs against the floor as the two of you made your way to the bedroom. you took simon by his tattooed wrist and got him into your room. the door was shut a little louder than you hoped. you turned on the light and simon was already working the belt of his jeans.

you were quick to get your t-shirt off and you saw simon's hungry gaze on you as you became free of your clothes. his eyes raked the exposed skin and thought you looked like a dream.

"like what you see, simon?"

he nodded, "more beautiful than the photos, ma'am."

you covered your mouth while you giggled, "no need for the formalities. if my brother is underranked by you, then i'm sure as hell as a civilian."

simon got a hold of your waist, "you deserve a little more respect than your brother." then pulled you in for a soft kiss. even with his scars that you had seen over dinner. you thought he was beautiful.

it made you warm all over as you pulled the dark t-shirt on his shoulders. he helped you get out of it. and your hands pressed against his chest. you admired the scars, the tattoos, the overall beauty of him.

"i wish my brother had said his lt was hot prior. i would've tried to get with you sooner."

simon picked you up by the waist, your legs wrapped around his waist as he brought you to the bed and sat you down. he then started to work at the button of your jeans. once they were off, he cupped the bulge in his pants.

you slipped out of your simple purple panties and the white bra you wore. you then laid out on your bed with your hands behind your head and you giggled softly.

simon was absolutely smitten by you. he had come to the conclusion that when they were talking about the beauties in scotland. they meant you. and only you. once you were both naked, he got onto the bed.

the bed was a bit smaller than he had hoped, but you two could fit into it thankfully. he was worried that his large, bulkier frame would inch you off of the mattress. but it was a lot easier when he got between your legs. his achy erection, bright red at the tip, begged for attention.

you swallowed a little, "i wonder if it'll fit."

"then you tell me if it does. got it? you mactavish's have a habit of not showing pain." simon gave you a pointed gaze.

you covered your face for a minute, "okay. talk about my brother ends here. i don't want to hear about him while you're balls deep inside of me."

simon chuckled lightly and leaned in for another kiss. he said softly, close to your lips, "if it's anything, love. you're much more a looker than he is."

you held onto his blond locks and pulled him in for a hot kiss. you made a small noise when he shifted your hips up against him. to get a better angle of his cock inside of you.

"simon."

he said softly, his voice still gravely, "beautiful, beautiful girl. i don't know what that last boyfriend of yours was thinkin'. why want another when he could have you. but, i guess that means more for me."

your cheeks grew hot and simon pressed his cock up against you wet slit. you felt your heartbeat race at the anticipation of what was to come. you tensed up at the feeling of his cock being pushed into it.

"i got ya, i got ya. you feel so good there, love."

you nodded, "it's been a while. sorry if i'm too.. tight."

simon loomed over you like a comforting shadow. he gazed down at you, but there was a softness to his tired eyes. you didn't realize how pretty his eyes were. a deep dark brown, that lured you in while in the soft lighting of your bedroom.

he started to move against you and you let out a small moan. the bed squeaked a little bit. thankfully the frame didn't hit the wall. you two had to be somewhat quiet. even if your brother could be heard snoring in the room next to yours.

the sex between you two was quick, but not rough. the idea of bruising such a beauty made simon feel disgusted. you were meant to be cherished. he wanted to know everything about you.

"you are quite handsome, simon."

"thank you, love." he said softly as he held onto your thighs and moved against you. even in missionary you looked beautiful. the slight bounce of your breasts in time with his movements. he wanted to kiss all your soft parts throughout his visit in your sweet home.

he could get used to a warm meal and a warm cunt to bury himself into every night. maybe johnny was right, staying with you was better than being in london.

maybe he could get used to scotland.

he knew he could fit easily into the chaos of the mactavish family. if he could handle johnny, then he could handle you. at least he could fuck one of you quiet.

you felt your heart hammering at the feeling of it all. your noises were so sweet that it made simon need to bury himself deeper inside of you. he needed to feel all you could offer.

call him a sick puppy, but his brain was now wired to need you. you were a hit of a feeling that simon was so painfully unfamiliar with that it almost scared him. but as he admired the sight of you under him.

those soft lips partially opened, your eyes closed. you looked like an angel, and he swore he found heaven.

"beautiful." he said softly, his rugged voice made you feel like honey. gooey and warm, filling.

you came with your hands in his shaggy blond hair. your back arched as you felt the heat through you. you moaned a little louder than you hoped for as he continued to thrust up into you.

panting breaths between heavy thrusts as you laid spread out on the bed, letting simon move quicken his pace to reach his climax. he could feel it on the tip of his tongue. and with a few more heavy thrusts, he finished inside of you. his cheeks flushed and his mouth hung open in a heavy pant.

"fuck, simon."

"beautiful." he said absently. not able to think of much else besides your beauty. you were the kind of woman that simon was into.

he pulled out of you and rested down beside you on bed. you chuckled softly, your head still a little full of post orgasmic bliss. you got the covers on top of you and cuddled him naked.

clothed would be a worry in the morning.

when morning came, simon tried to slink back to the couch before johnny woke up. but when he exited your room and entered the main living space. he found johnny sitting there at the kitchen table. he was leaned back into his seat. simon caught sight of the pistol on the worn wooden table.

"so, si." johnny said, looking away from his paper to look at his fellow solider, "what are yer intentions with my sister?"

it had been a very long time since simon felt the stone of dread in his stomach. he tried not to show it across his scarred face. simon could instantly recall every military statistic that johnny had. there could be a million and one ways that the scottish solider could kill simon. and it wasn't like simon could do anything, he couldn't kill your brother.

there was a brief moment of silence between the two of them. neither made a motion or noise. simon wondered what was to come next. no amount of training could've prepared him for this.

but johnny broke the silence with laughter, "i'm just messin' with ya! the gun's not even loaded. just wanted to scare ya." he leaned forward in his seat. he looked at simon, "i don't care how my sister sees, but i have to be a little bit intimidating, don't ya think so, si?"

simon chuckled nervously.

johnny's suddenly expression dropped and he put down his paper in favour of the unloaded pistol. he pointed the front of it to simon, one eye closed as if he was going to shoot the blond in front of him. he said, "but if you break her heart there, simon. i won't be so forgiving."

the doorway to your bedroom opened with a loud creak and your voice rang through the apartment the three of you were in, "I swear to god! john michael mactavish! you better not be intimidating him!"

"you're seriously crying?" you asked your brother as you watched him gently take a hold of your newborn. your brother was a military man for christ's sake. he was weeping like a baby.

simon loomed over his colleague, protective over his newborn. his stern brown gaze read simply, "don't fuck it up, soap." he was ready to jump in if johnny fucked it up.

you were resting back in the hospital room, you just had your child with simon. you two had been married for a little over three years. it became habit for simon to come with johnny post-missions. the drive up to the city and you waiting for them.

a hug for your brother, a kiss for your lover.

now you were watching your brother cry at the sight of his nephew. the chubby little boy bundled up in a blanket. unaware of his weepy uncle. you looked at him with a slightyl stunned expression.

you probably cried less when you finally pushed him out. you didn't want to tell him the news because you thought he was going to cry more. while your son's first name was oliver, his middle name was john. after the crying mactavish in the hospital room.

"he really takes after us." john remarked when his cries died down.

you chuckled, "he sure does, johnny. now hand him over before you drop him." <3

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izadi234 · 5 months ago

Text

Forget me not

-Warning: Contain yandere themes, neglected! gn!reader, mention of low self-esteem, the writer's first language isn't English. Yan! Batfamily x gn! reader

Chapters Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 (You're here) Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 3

For Duke it was a normal day after going to a classmate's house to finish a group project. He was eager to show you the project and talk to you about his day as he had started to do since the first day he set foot in Wayne Manor.

He could never forget that day...

The first time Duke went to Wayne Manor he was a bundle of nerves along with other emotions. He had just lost his parents due to the Joker's toxin and had just started his training with Bruce. He couldn't deny that he wasn't grateful to the billionaire and his family of vigilantes but he did miss that normality in his day to day life like when his parents were still well.

It was a day that he was lost in the mansion that was the one that found you. He had just finished his training with Bruce and Damian and had the intention of returning to his room when he got lost, but it wasn't until he ran into someone that he finally paid attention to where he was walking.

You were walking down the hall with your laptop in your hands, it seemed like you had just come from outside. He had never seen you before but Damian had mentioned that he had an older sibling that he didn't give much importance to.

"Oops, sorry. You okay, kiddo?" you asked him kindly

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine. I should apologize. I didn't see where I was going" the young man apologized

"I see you're lost, these hallways of the mansion aren't that frequented" you commented

"Really? And what are you doing here then?"

"My room is over here" you commented

"Ah..." He didn't know what to say

"You must be the new kid that Bruce adopted, right?"

"Yes, it's me" he nodded

"It's a pleasure, I'm (Name)" you extended your hand to shake it and he took it

He could immediately notice the warmth of your hand, they weren't rough and hard like the hands of others, but he could feel familiarity in your grip. It felt like home.

"Duke" he nodded as he shook your hand

"Well Duke, if you want I can guide you through these halls. It's almost impossible not to get lost in this place" you chuckled

"Yeah... I'd like that" he said with a smile

"Well, then follow me!" you said with a smile as you then guided him through the Manor

From that meeting on, Duke looked for any excuse to go talk to you. He soon discovered that the family didn't show much interest in you, which he couldn't understand why. In a family of vigilantes, being the most normal should be a relief, right? Or at least that's how he saw it, since when he was with you, he felt like he was going back to his old life, without worries or training.

That's why from then on he always waited for the time to be able to go find you.

What a surprise he would get when he saw that you weren't there

Once he entered Wayne Manor, Duke immediately went to look for you in your room only to find it empty. He felt his heart stop for a second.

No... It can't be...

"Alfred!" Duke shouted in search of the butler as he ran to the kitchen and there he saw Alfred who was making food for the Waynes.

"Alfred! Have you seen (Name)? Her room is empty!" the boy spoke quickly

"Yes, I am sorry to have to tell you this Master Duke, but our dear (Name) has left the mansion" informed the butler

"What?! So fast? N-no… They couldn't leave here… Much less without saying goodbye…" he said incredulously

It was like losing his parents all over again.

"They left me a letter in my room. I suppose they left one in yours too Master Duke"

Without saying another word, Duke ran to his room where he found a letter on his bed that had his name on it. He read it and right there (Name) said goodbye to him, thanked him for his company and just like with Alfred, left him the cell phone number of his second phone in case he wanted to talk to them.

"No… It can't be…" said Duke as he let a few tears escape from his eyes

How could he not stop them?

"Please don't cry Master Duke" said a voice from the door of his room. It was Alfred who looked at him with eyes that reflected sorrow and sadness but at the same time determination.

"I know that the departure of Master (Name) was something that hurt you and me" the butler began to speak

"But I assure you that they will return home"

"How Alfred? It was more than obvious that they wanted to leave here" he said between sadness and bitterness "But I don't understand, why did no one in this place pay attention to them? They are a Wayne too"

You were like a refreshing stream for him, you were like a glass of ice water in the middle of a desert.

Why did no one in this damn place notice?

"I couldn't answer that, Master Duke, but what we both know is that the behavior of the members of this family towards (Name) has been unfair and unjustified" Alfred walked towards the young guard and sat next to him

"I spent years waiting for someone else to see how amazing they were, but no one noticed, no one tried to get to know them" he unconsciously closed his hands into fists "And I can say that it was partly my fault, but you came along and finally someone realized what a great person we had in the family"

Alfred turned to look at him and put a hand on his shoulder which he gave a light squeeze.

"And for that same reason that they have such a powerful light, in a place like Gotham it is important to take care of them"

Duke looked at Alfred for a few seconds and then looked at the ground.

He is right. Their light is very bright. He can't let anyone turn it off.

"But… How are you going to do it Alfred? How are you going to get them back? Not even half of the people who live here remember who they are" said the young vigilante irritated

"Don't worry about that Master Duke, but you will have to help me with some things"

Don't worry (Name), you will return home.

Whether you want to or not.

But you will be by their side

It's been 2 weeks since you left Wayne Manor and to be honest… You've never been happier in your life!

Sure, you'd always had a lot of independence but now this independence felt different, it felt more refreshing.

Likewise, college had also been an interesting change from a social and academic point of view since a few years ago you had studied online and life at university was a bit chaotic but you were starting to like it.

You rented your apartment to an old man who owned the building and who kindly let you pay your rent little by little. Inside it were a few pieces of furniture that were already there, however, you gave it some personal touches to feel more at home. But what couldn't be missing were photos of your parents (F/N) and (M/N), Alfred and Duke with you.

You couldn't complain, you were living a true dream.

But live it up and savor it while you can

Because soon you'll lose it all

You were in the kitchen of your apartment making dinner when your phone rang. You picked it up and answered without looking at who it was,

"Hello?" you said as you answered your phone

"Hey (Name)!" a familiar voice greeted you

"Oh, hey Duke!" you said enthusiastically "How have you been? How's school going?"

"Oh been good, lots of homework" he chuckled "I was calling you because I wanted to see you"

"Oh yeah, sure" you nodded "Do you need me for something specific?"

"No no. I just want to see you. I miss you being around the mansion" he admitted

"Aww, you're really sweet Duke but I'm sure you have plenty of company at Wayne Manor" now was your turn to chuckle

"Yeah, they're good company but you're my best confidant and sibling"

You're MY home…

"Okay Duke, if you want we can see each other tomorrow" you proposed

"Sure!" he excited

"Perfect" you giggled at his excitement "How about we meet at the park near downtown Gotham?"

"Okay" he nodded

"Fine, see you tomorrow bro!" you said goodbye to him

"See you tomorrow sibling" he said goodbye before hanging up the call

You smiled just thinking about seeing Duke tomorrow. You couldn't wait to do it.

This was your first mistake. Trusting him.

"It's done Alfred" said Duke from the doorway of the living room

"They agreed to see me tomorrow"

"Okay Master Duke" Alfred nodded and then dusted the furniture again

"Now what?" asked the young man

"Now all that's left is to wait for me to arrive tomorrow and just follow my instructions" the butler commanded

"So… do you think all this is going to work? What if it doesn't?" he asked, half scared and half anxious

Alfred turned to look at the nervous boy and walked towards him. He placed a hand on his shoulder in an assuring manner.

"It's going to work" he assured him "Now go rest, tomorrow you're going to have a busy day"

Duke nodded, still a little unsure, but he didn't say anything else. Then he retired to his bedroom.

When he left Alfred couldn't help but smile a little. Everything was going as he had been planning and although he knew that this plan wasn't going to be to your liking in the least, he was also sure that this was the best for you.

Yes… This was the best thing for you…

For you…

For y…

For them..

For them...

For him…

This was going to be the best thing for HIM

This was going to bring you home to HIM

His little ray of sunshine

Helloooo. Here it goes the third chapter! I hope you like it and I swear that in the next one the rest of the family will appear, still I would love to heart what do you expect of this work! And even some ideas!

Also I added the people that told me to add them in tag list so if you want to be added please tell me and I will happily add you. And also if I missed someone please tell me as well because I'm a bit blind most of the times and despite being on tumblr for a while now I'm still getting used to using it ":v

So if you liked this chapter please leave a heart and I'll see you on the next one!

-Izadi

TAG LIST

@eyeless-kun @profounddestinyrebel @holyfishbailiffpeanut @toast-on-dandelioms @dhanyasri @kiarst @phoenixgurl030 @wpdarlingpan @glitterisname @sackofsadstuff @riddle-me-im-sirius @sirenetheblogger @bat1212 @bluelock4life @revysplacexxx @skz-goose @mistfire1999 @vanessa-boo @tatsuri-zomushiki @kore-of-the-underworld @milliu @lee-bits @ch1cky-093

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lilacgaby · 5 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋ🖍️crayons and connections

pairing: prohero!katsuki x nanny!reader

summary: after a harsh relationship he really didn't want another try at romance for a while. at least, not until he hired you. he thought he loved the way you cared for his kids, but you both knew it was something more.

tags: fem!reader, domestic au, use of pet names, no proofread, fluff, cursing, taking care of kids, a millisecond of angst i swear trust me, comfort

(a/n: i couldn't get this au out of my headdd)

wc: ~3k

katsuki was honestly sick of his wife.

she would nag him constantly, asking for his cards and attention without ever asking about him or how he was doing. everything was an argument now, most of their nights would eventually end up with him on the couch.

the only lights of his life were his newborn son and one year old daughter. he had adopted the 'staying for the kids' mindset, but her skipping out on their shared daughter's first birthday was his breaking point.

who knew 'i want a divorce' would be the happiest words he'd ever uttered such far? watching her cry and swear she'd be better feeding the hole of despair that had opened over their three year relationship, that had only really blossomed because she got pregnant.

he had made her sign a prenup, thankfully, so he got to keep the house. with a payment and some paperwork he was left with full custody of his kids in his house, to sleep in his bed for the first time in ages.

well, only because he hired you.

it was only natural that he needed a nanny, i mean he was gone for most of the day patrols. after taking some in for interviews, he eventually landed on you after some hours of questioning.

he was exhausted, some of these hags were terrifying, both in their practices and appearances. he relaxed a bit at the sight of you. you were really pretty.

"hi mr-- um bakugo was it?"

you and no idea who he was? it kind of hurt but would end up working out in his favor.

"yeah, just katsuki's fine."

"oh, okay! i'm [name], uh-- i have a couple years experience for babysitting and i worked as a nanny for some other families too--"

as you rambled about your past experience and why you were good for the job, katsuki's mind went elsewhere. you looked breathtaking just speaking there, he swore your hair was flowing in the wind and that the sun shone brighter around you.

not to mention you were really sweet, he had saw you making small talk to the hags earlier, which meant you really were a saint.

"so uh-- yeah that's all about me... uh, hello?"

"oh! yes? that was all really impressive [name]. so, would you be available from eight in the morning to about ten at night? those are my current patrol hours, and obviously you'd be compensated for this trial."

"yes, that's perfect for me! when can i start?"

"uh.. tomorrow?"

"okay!" you stuck out your hand, a small smile on your lips. "nice to meet you katsuki."

he shook your hand firmly and you bowed before leaving.

the next day you arrived earlier than anticipated, he was suited up in his heroes outfit, relishing in the moments where his kids were still asleep.

he heard a knock at the door and opened it. it was you, a tiny purse behind you. "hi katsuki! woah wait a minute.. are you like a hero?"

he shrugged his arms. "yeah, you know only like top three, nothing big."

he saw your eyes widen. "oh wow! sorry for not recognizing you, i don't really keep up with all that stuff-- but im sure you're really strong!"

he nodded, "hell yeah i am. anyways, come in."

you were greeted by a large family home. you were sure your apartment was the size of the kitchen alone. huge halls and grand staircases filled the space, lavish chandeliers all shaped as explosions hung from the ceiling. not to mention the crazy amount of trophies displayed.

the rocking chairs and baby blankets scattered about were seriously out of place, making you giggle a bit.

when he looked back at you, you immediately slapped your hand over your face. "something funny?"

"no, no it's just-- your house is so nice!"

"thank you? anyways, i'll take you up to their rooms now."

you followed behind him, even his kids had huge rooms. you were super kind of jealous.

he opened the door and waved you over to see a small, adorable baby boy sleeping in a cot. "this is kei, he's only eight months." he whispered. "he fusses a lot, but he loves music."

he closed the door slowly behind, and walked to the room straight across. a tiny toddler laid in a princess bed, the room drowning in all things pink. "this is kioko, she's a handful. she turned two a bit ago." he whispered, closing the door behind him to give you a basic rundown of the schedule.

"so, they normally wake up around eight. there's a lot of formula for kei in the kitchen, and kioko just likes cereal. kioko can and will play all day, but kei gets real sleepy."

you nodded along making mental notes of everything.

"they eat lunch around three, but a snack before then is fine. dinner is at seven and they go to sleep at eight."

"okay, i think i got it."

he nodded. "i think you do too. there's extra keys in the counter by the door. call my assistants if there are any emergencies, i wrote the number on the fridge."

you nodded again, "kay, i got it. you get going though, it's already eight twenty!"

"fuck. okay, i'll see you later."

"bye katsuki."

the door closed behind him and you were alone. you decided to start prepping a bottle. just as you finished, you heard the wails of a baby ring throughout the halls.

you walked up to the cot, speaking softly. "hi kei, i'm [name]." as you picked him up, he gurgled in confusion. "i'll be taking care of you from now on, let's go eat."

you kept him in your arms. he was looking up at you curiously, making you smile as he touched your face. as you walked to his sister's room, where sure enough she was awake too.

"hi kioko, im [name]. i'll be taking care of you, okay?" you said, reaching out a hand for her to shake it.

she grasped your hand. "okay. go eat?"

"yes, let's go eat. follow me, okay?" she followed after you sleepily, her blanket and stuffed animal in her arms as you led her to the kitchen.

you placed her brother in a high chair first, giving him his formula. "can i pick you up?" you asked her.

"up-up!" she said, raising her arms up in the air. you carried and placed her into one too. "so, what do you wanna eat?"

"cookie!" she pointed to an expensive cereal brand you'd never even seen before. "oh, okay."

you placed a bit in a tiny bowl, adding some milk. they ate relatively peacefully, were they really as crazy as katsuki said?

yes, yes they were. kioko was a ball of energy, walking any and everywhere. she wanted to play every single game known to mankind. it didn't help that hide and seek was hard in such a huge house.

kei clung to you. as you searched for her he never wanted to leave your side, he'd start sniffling when you even left his sight.

lunch and dinner were a blur, you made the food katsuki had told you to on the sticky notes he'd left around. you had a bit too, and man did these kids eat good.

kioko finally crashed, tugging on the back of your pants. "sleepy time." you were washing dishes, so you wiped your hand clean to ruffle her hair. "okay, go wait for me in your room."

you finished up, picked up kei from where he was sat by his activity cube, and walked over to kioko's room.

you read her a book, 'the giving tree.' she fell asleep halfway through, utterly tuckered out from the day. kei fell asleep against your chest, you went and laid him down in his cot.

you looked around the house, seeing the mess. you sighed. "let's do this."

the house was sparkling once you were done, a pot of coffee on the stove as you waited for katsuki to get back. you seriously didn't know how you were going to go back your one-bed apartment now that you've seen how the rich live.

the door sounded, it was katsuki. "hi katsuki! how was uh-- patrol?"

he was covered in soot and dirt from head to toe. you internally sobbed at your hours of mopping going to waste. "oh uh, it was good. caught some guys and shit."

"ah, that's cool!"

he looked around. "did my brats cause you any trouble?" he eyed how clean everything was, from the dishes to the floor.

"they're full of energy, but so cute it makes up for it."

he wore a soft smile. "yeah, they really are."

"you know, they both look exactly like you. it's cute."

he flushed slightly, "yeah?"

"mhm, oh! i had leftovers from earlier? if you wanted some."

"yeah, i'll eat them." she smiled and started to grab her things. "so, does this mean i pass?"

he smiled too. "yes,

yes you did."

days melted into months of your routine with kei and kioko. some days katsuki would come home early, letting you play games all together. you'd cook with him sometimes too, laughing at how precise he was about it.

everything got a bit real the second kei spoke his first word to you.

"mama."

you and kioko got so excited, recording a clip to send it to katsuki immediately.

the entire day you were so happy, treating the kids to a secret extra snack, and letting them beat their favorite baby popcorn.

a knock on the door was heard, you were feeding kei so you walked over to the door with him in hand. you thought it was odd, why would katsuki knock?

except it wasn't him, it was some woman. "uh.. who are you?"

"oh, so he thinks he can replace me so quickly? newsflash, bitch, i'm his ex wife."

"can you not curse in front of the kids?"

"i'll do whatever the fuck i want. you know why? because i'm actually connected to those kids. you're just playing mother, he'll dump you eventually."

she slammed the door behind her. "star her mama?" kioko asked behind you.

"yeah, stranger."

you had gotten a bit weird after that, acting weird about affection and things surrounding it. you didn't know why, but she really did make you question your role in their lives.

you weren't a mother, you were a nanny.

katsuki finally got fed up with your new, odd attitude. he questioned you with a look in his eye.

"why you been acting so weird?" he asked, his mouth full with food.

"huh? i don't know what you mean?"

he pointed his chopsticks at you. "you've been acting all weird 'round 'em. you don't like that they call you mom or something?"

"no! it's just.. don't you think it's weird?"

"no. i'm happy that they like you so much."

"you don't think i'm trying to replace their mom?"

"they never really had one in the first place. she was never around, so if she said some shit to you know she wasn't half the person you are."

"oh.."

"so she did come."

"yeah. she did."

"[name]. you are ten times the person she ever was. you're perfect without trying. actually, you do try. and that's why..

that's why we all love you."

you both turned red, which made you laugh. "thank you katsuki."

you reached out and held his hand.

"seriously, thank you."

he put a restraining order on his ex the next day, also going to get flowers for you as it was his day off.

you'd started to sleep over after that, the affection between the two of you growing gradually.

he gifted you a room in the house, fully furnished with about ten thousand dollars left in one of the drawers so 'you could decorate for yourself.'

that room went mostly unused though, as most nights you'd end up cuddled with katsuki in his bed.

the fridge was filled to the brim with photos by kioko, who'd love to draw all four of you as one big family.

katsuki even asked her for a small one, one that he now keeps in the back of his phone case for good luck.

he asked you out officially with kioko's help, her unwanted help that is.

she snuck out after bedtime where he was speaking to you on the couch, you in his arms as he was mustering up his courage--

"pleaseeee have a play date with daddy, pleasee?" she said, using her puppy eyes.

"we all love you a lot, but he loves you this much!" she spread out her arms to make a point, making you laugh.

"okay! okay, i already said yes kioko. go to sleep, okay?"

"yay!" she ran up to her room and you heard the door close.

"so.. about our playdate?"

he took you out to a fancy dinner of your choice, telling you to order whatever you'd like. his mom was babysitting so you two could relax.

he'd learned a lot about you from his kids, your favorite color, the music you liked, the way you like your eggs, but it was different to hear it from you.

he thought you were so gorgeous and kind, so sweet to him and the lights of his life. who was he kidding? over the last year you'd become a pillar of his life.

he enjoyed going home knowing you were there with his kids, you were there to hear about his stresses and support him.

he was happy to support you, to let you stay in his house. to let him pay for things for you, to let him make you smile.

one 'playdate' turned into multiple, you went out every other week.

he knew he had to do something, a grand gesture to show you just how much he loved you, how he wanted to continue building this perfect family of his forever.

he knew how much you treasured the opinions of his kids, he loved that about you.

so, he got them in on it. kioko and kei each held a gift for you, one of your favorite flowers and the other of your favorite perfumes.

you were at a seriously gorgeous park, streams the only noise you could hear for miles. you saw your two favorite kids sitting on the picnic blanket.

"kioko, kei?"

"mommy!" they ran up to you, kei handing you the bouquet of roses, and kioko handing you a vial of perfume.

"aw, thank you you two. where's your dad?"

"hes waiting for you! come come!"

"come!"

they guide you to a secluded area, with a natural arch of overgrown vines, where katsuki is waiting for you.

"katsuki?"

"[name]."

"what's all of this for?"

"you." he took your hands into his, looking deeply into you.

"you're important to me. you've.. you've become the thing i was missing. the thing i searched for in other people.

and, you've become that to the people i care about the most too.

so,"

he got down on one knee infront of you.

"will you marry me?"

the word yes escaped you before you even realized it. you tackled him into a hug, which prompted kei and kioko to join in.

everything was just so sweet from then on.

kioko was the flower girl at your wedding, kei was the ring holder.

your first kiss shared under the altar was magical, the memory of it forever engrained in your memories, and in your lips.

your honeymoon was bittersweet, as you missed your two headaches. but you and katsuki also enjoyed the private time alone with eachother, embracing and finding comfort in eachother's presence.

when you got home though, your picturesque family was about to have a new addition,

you were pregnant.

whilst everyone was debating whether or not you'd have a boy or girl, to everyone's surprise once you and katsuki cut the slice of cake open..

it had both colors.

you we're having twins.

as you looked over at katsuki, a shocked expression on his face, all you could do was laugh.

laugh because you couldn't have ever imagined a life this perfect for you.

but it was a wax-drawn line of fate that led you to katsuki,

and you'd always be thankful for it.

tag: @kovu-bunnbunn

#i love this au isjsjsjdjd #lilac speaks꧂#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katuski #bakugo x you #bakugo fluff #katsuki x you #bakugo drabble #mha x you #bakugo oneshot #katsuki x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugo mha #nanny!reader #prohero!bakugo

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ghoulphile · 10 months ago

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janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | part 01

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 3.7k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap, hair pulling, teasing, making out, mutual pining, lipstick kink, stockings, frottage, porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --” ➥ notes | i'm so sorry this is later than it should be. i am unfortunately a corporate slave and this fic just did not want to cooperate 🫠 there are a lot more things planned and this fic is turning into a bit of a beast (20+ pages and counting rip lmao) so i've decided to split it into two parts to make it more manageable for myself mostly un-beta'd atm a special thanks to @corinthianism for all her lovely help ❤️!!

feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist

Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.

One of the ugliest things in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say. At least when he was a Marine, they told him where to point his gun, where to aim; nameless threats vanishing with a quick squeeze of the trigger.

Here, these ‘enemies’ aren’t enemies — not really.

It’d be easier if they were.

Worse still, they have names he holds as dearly as his own. There’s Barb, whip smart and always so clever. Then Janey, the light of his life and so sweet his teeth ache.

Once upon a time, life was sweeter than apple pie on Sundays.

Then came the separation.

Afterwards, he finds it hard to look at what’s left of his family without losing breath like a horse kick to the chest. Their absence rips open a hole inside him ten miles wide, its edges jagged and wrong.

And when he can’t take the silence anymore, fingers of malt liquor help dull the ache, though it’ll never be enough to mend what’s broken.

See, war’s something he understands.

But these domestic battlefields where he sits across from his ex-wife while lawyers barter this weekend and that holiday?

How he struggles to meet his daughter’s eye every time she asks if he’s coming home?

When Barb keeps the house and the money while he keeps the scrapbooks and the dog?

He doesn’t — can't — refuses to comprehend.

Because in what world can you reconcile looking down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman you love staring back, finger on the trigger? Left out to hang as Vault-Tec orchestrates his downfall.

The true depth of their involvement is unknown, but it’s no coincidence his bank accounts dried up faster than the Mojave in June. The ink still wet when the media snapped up the story of his failed marriage.

Thus, his reputation (rather what’s left of it) unraveled faster than a spool of thread.

Knocked on his ass and kept there by a boot heel crushing his windpipe. Whose? He hasn’t got a fucking clue.

But whoever they are, they’re making sure he stays a washed up nobody who struggles to land a call back, much less pay his monthly alimony on time.

See what we can do? You were America’s favorite gunslinger - now look at you. Mind your place.

Hell, millions used to scream his name.

Nowadays people whisper it behind their hands like a dirty secret, “Oh, did you hear? Cooper Howard…” as they dissect pieces of his life into bite-sized Before’s and After’s. “Hah! Serves him right. Y’know, I never liked him much.”

While he grits his teeth and swallows his bitterness with a smile, he hates how he can’t protect Janey from snide reporters and nosy strangers. Juggling actor-father-divorcé with fumbling hands.

It’s only been six months; a heartbeat, a lifetime, and already he’s scraped thin like butter over too much bread.

Something’s gotta give.

After all, he’s only one man.

But just when it's bleakest, the clouds part.

A young woman moves in next door, the first bright thing that’s come his way in a long, long while.

At first, he kept his distance.

Exchanged vague hello’s and how-are-you’s. Then Janey took a shine; always so friendly and eager to talk about her latest books.

Any reservations he might’ve had died when he saw how enamored you are with her.

Only made sense that over time small pleasantries turned into playdates. Then those playdates turned into sleepovers.

Before long, you’re watching her when a gig runs late.

Rustling up grub and tucking her into bed more often than not these days. And when he slinks in through the door, knees aching and stripped to the bone, there you are with a shy smile and a warm meal.

So what if he takes himself in hand after you leave, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress?

Imagines the wide stretch of your ruby lips as you swallow him down, lipstick smeared an awful mess?

Cums hard to the fantasy of your teary eyes and hiccupy breaths as you choke?

What you don’t know can’t hurt you.

After all, he’s a gentleman... he promises to keep his hands to himself.

“All right, Sugar Bomb, it’s bedtime.”

Bundled in navy bedding up to her nose, Janey’s wide brown eyes peer up at you from beneath a riot of frizzy curls. Roosevelt, her ever faithful companion, plasters himself to her side. The tip of his tail swishes once, twice before falling limp.

“Ah, c’mon guys. Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh with a fond shake of the head, hip popping out to rest against the doorframe. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow ‘em.”

A muffled response sounds from the lump of little girl, “Nmfhm.”

Squinting, you dip your head and tap the side of your ear, "Pardon?"

“Mnhfmmmm.”

“Ye—eah… Didn’t catch that, Mumbler.”

Janey tugs down the blanket, her mouth pursed in a moue of displeasure. “I said,” she crosses her arms with a huff, “not until Dad gets home.”

Shit.

“M’sorry, baby. He’s still gonna be a while.” Walking across the room, you stop beside the bed and motion your hand back and forth. “Scooch over.”

Gangly limbs fumble as Janey wiggles into the middle of the mattress, her feet tangling in the blankets. Roosevelt takes a toe to the nose during the transition, but flops across her knees all the same.

Together they settle with a bounce of springs.

In the open space, you slide in.

The bed sinks under your weight, a plume of rich cologne tickling your nose; mint-spiced citrus. Cooper. Your stomach swoops, and your heart trips.

“I didn’t see him at breakfast — or lunch!” A pout tugs at her mouth. “Not even dinner. I gotta go home tomorrow. So when am I gonna see him?”

“Oh, bug.” You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Your dad’s been real busy at work. And I know that’s been hard for you, but I promise to make sure he’s here for breakfast tomorrow.”

“D’you mean it?” Her cold nose digs into your skin. “Me and Roosevelt miss him so much.”

Cuddled into your chest, Janey tosses an arm around your back. Her fuzzy head rests in the crook of your arm, springy curls tickling your skin.

You squeeze her tight and trace your fingertips over her forehead.

“I can do you one better,” you say, bopping the tip of her nose just to hear her giggle - a soft sound that sits warm and gooey in your chest. “I pinkie-promise.”

Her finger loops around yours, so small and fragile.

“I’ll even make pancakes. How’s that sound for a promise?”

“Oh, yes, please! I think Dad will like that,” a wide yawn cuts her off mid-sentence. “He’s sad, but he always smiles when you make food.”

Janey’s words — unexpected as they are sudden — cut so deep it steals the breath from your lungs. You flounder, your heart a throbbing bruise in your chest.

“... Then pancakes it is.”

As if nothing happened at all, she asks, “Do I have to go to bed now?”

“Afraid so, little miss.” Your responding chuckle sounds stilted even to your own ears. “Just you wait. When you wake up, Dad’ll be home.”

“Fi—ine, but I want extra pancakes.” Janey pauses, considers you with narrow eyes, then adds, “With syrup!”

“Whatever you want,” you say with an indulgent smile. “Now... time to sleep. It’s really past your bedtime.”

She gives you one last squeeze then lets you tuck her in nice and tight, blankets pulled up to her chin. You drop a kiss on her forehead while Roosevelt re-settles on the pillow beside her after a quick scratch behind the ears.

Everything in order, you turn to go only for a little hand to stop you.

“Yes?” you reply, glancing at her from over your shoulder.

“... can you put on one of Dad's movies?”

The tremble in her voice - like she’s about to get scolded - breaks your heart clean down the middle. Stitching on a soft smile, you nod and walk to the darkened TV set in the room's corner.

After fiddling with the nobs, static flashes to life.

“The Man from Deadhorse okay?”

The holotape sliding into the track swallows the sound of her tiny “Yeah.” Starting up with a whirl of machinery, the second-hand Radiation King flickers to life in black-and-white.

A vast plain and bright sky stretches across the screen.

Then Sugarfoot creeps into frame with the one and only Cooper Howard sitting astride the noble steed. The sheriff’s badge on his chest glints in the sun.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, already half-way to sleep.

“Anything for you, baby. Sleep tight.”

Flicking off the lights, you leave the door cracked. Walk away pretending like hearing her whisper goodnight to the TV doesn’t lance through you like lightning.

The desire to whisk her into your arms and soothe all of her ails is almost impossible to ignore.

Somehow, you distract yourself by wiping up the table, then by fixing a plate of dinner for whenever Cooper rolls in. Though all the while, how brokenhearted Janey sounded sits in the back of your mind like a leaden weight.

When Cooper stumbles into the living room, it’s half past midnight.

You’d gotten up to greet him, curled as you were in an armchair reading, when something about the stern line of his mouth gave you pause.

Where the usual lighthearted greetings lingered, a pensive stillness trembled to life.

Tension crackles through the air; a held breath of agitation. By the faraway gaze and defeated slump of his broad shoulders, it’s plain to see the night didn’t go as intended. And no matter how much you long to soothe, you can’t.

After all, he’s not yours to touch.

Instead, you offer a sympathetic smile and ask, “Rough night, huh?”

Cooper ignores the prompt, squeezing past with a brief touch to your elbow as he makes a beeline for the dry bar. The heat of his body is there and gone in a flash, his cologne teasing your senses. He says, “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”

Your heart flutters in your throat. “Ah,” you lick your lips, “well, I was going to finish my chapter first.”

Humming, he turns his back to you and fiddles with high balls and decanters. The tink of crystal glassware fills the air as he speculates which alcohol goes best with his mood.

“Thanks again for watching Janey.” He nods in approval and fixes his whiskey neat. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, Mr. Howard.” You shrug. “She’s a sweetheart.”

He shoots you a dry look from over his shoulder, stirring the dark amber of his drink with a forefinger. When he sucks his skin clean with a soft pop - a flash of a pink tongue taunting, teasing - your stomach swoops.

God, I wonder what else his mouth can do.

Flustered, you clear your throat and stare at a spot on the wall.

“How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Coop?” he says, digging through some drawers until he finds what he’s searching for: a lighter. “It must be a million and one by now.”

Flint sparks as flames jump, eating away at the end of a cigarette. Cooper inhales in short little puffs, pulling on the filter. His cheeks hollow, the shadows enhancing the cut of his jaw before the tip catches alight.

“Well,” he exhales, his gaze catching yours through a plume of smoke as he turns, brow raised. “Anything to say for yourself?”

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” you chuckle.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smirk. “I’ll drink to that.” He knocks back the last finger of whiskey before refilling with gin.

Springs groan in protest when he drops to the couch, settling in with an outstretched arm and wide spread thighs.

“It’s been a long fucking day,” he rasps.

Gulping, you try to ignore the space at his feet.

The stirrings of desire provoked by the urge to sink to your knees and fill it with your body, to ease tension from those shoulders with your hands, your mouth, your cunt — if he’d let you.

“You heading home?” Nursing the fresh drink, he swallows a mouthful, only to hiss low through his teeth at the chemical burn. His throat bobs, framed by the open collar of his shirt. “Whew! Goddamn, that’s strong.”

“No, I can stay for a while.” A bird on a wire, you perch on the cushion beside him. “Got nothing else planned for tonight, anyhow.”

Cooper snorts. “I doubt that very much. A sweet young thing like you,” he motions towards you with his glass, “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of fellas calling, especially on a Friday night. Don’t waste your time with me.”

“That’s not why I--” you stop yourself short.

Save for the bustling LA avenue right outside the complex, the apartment itself is stone silent for several heartbeats. Words hover on the back of your tongue, catching in the bend of your throat molasses thick.

Meanwhile, Cooper continues to swirl the alcohol in his glass.

Maybe in a different life, you wouldn’t hesitate to express yourself.

But here — with him — you shouldn’t.

Christ sake, he’s a grieving divorcé, you chastise yourself. The last thing he needs is me trying to lay one on him.

When you speak, his name glides off your lips for the first time, clementine sweet, “... Cooper, I’m not wasting my time. I enjoy spending it with Janey - and you.”

“Well,” he husks, hooded eyes dragging down your visage in a slow once-over, “you’re the first one in a long while to feel that way, sweetheart.”

Dripping like honey whiskey from Cooper’s lips, the simple phrase burns its way down-down-down until it blooms like liquid fire in your belly. Warms you all the way to your toes as your heart pounds against your ribcage.

“I mean it.” Your knuckles twist in the pleats of your sundress, bolts of blue fabric bunched around your knees. “Everything I do is because I want to.”

The flash of red nails plucking at the sheer nylon of your stockings snaps up his attention, his gaze snagging - staying as he chases the curve of your exposed leg, hungry.

He wets his lips, and tenses his jaw when he spots how the soft fat of your thigh dimples in because of your garter. “That’s awful sweet of you to say.”

You tremble beneath the intensity of his attention.

Greedy.

Little kisses of awareness spark bright along the path his eyes carve like the caress of shy fingertips.

However, before you’re able to confront him about his interest, the heat leaches from his expression, grows mute and cold like a muzzled dog.

Readjusting the waistband of his slacks with a tug, he says, “I know you got better things to do than keep an old man company.”

Irritation sparks. “Cooper--”

“If this is about paying you for tonight,” his lips quirk into a sheepish smile, “I won’t be able to yet.” He scrubs a hand through the stubble peppered along his jaw. “The gig tonight didn’t… Well, it doesn’t matter.”

“No, that’s not what I --”

He plows on, “Anyway, the one I’ve got tomorrow should be enough. How about I stop by around seven o’clock? I’ll treat you to dinner as an apology.”

Frustration bubbles beneath the surface of your skin, antagonism thrumming through your veins. Your hands shake almost as much as your voice. “Cooper!”

“I… uh, yes?” He blinks.

Your brows furrow. “You don’t get it,” you say. “I mean, you truly don’t know?”

“I’m afraid there’s a lot I don’t get. You’re gonna have to be more particular.”

Maybe not said in so many words (or at all) but actions speak far louder.

Otherwise, why else would you spend most of your time in his apartment, fill every spare moment with Janey, and reserve evenings for his company?

Hell, you even cook and clean!

Almost scream your interest from the rooftops, and it’s obvious to everyone but him, it seems.

Here you are thinking he was preserving your dignity whenever he ignored a passing comment or lingering touch when, in fact, he’d been oblivious to their existence to begin with.

How a man can be so obtuse when you’re throwing yourself at him is beyond you.

If he wasn’t so captivating…

“Are you kidding me,” you ask, mindful of your tone, “how could you not know?” You throw your hands in the air. “I’ve been — for months!”

“Well, I don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he snarks, setting his glass on the table. “Care to enlighten me?”

Fine. If that’s how he wants to play, let’s play.

When he moves to take another drag from his cigarette, you strike, fingers locking around his wrist mid-lift. And although his glassy eyes narrow, he keeps his hand still.

Waiting to see what you'll do.

Tucking your knee under you for balance, you bend forward and watch his face from beneath your lashes. When your lips wrap around the filter, a dark hunger bleeds into his expression, his pulse a steady thud against the pad of your thumb.

Inhaling, the cherry lights up, a flashbang in the dim overhead light.

Cooper’s breath hitches, and then you’re pulling away with a lungful of smoke; the taste of ash heavy on your tongue.

He tracks your movements with greed, gaze flicking for the briefest of moments past your chin before refocusing on the ring of red lipstick staining white paper.

“If you wanted one,” he chokes, gripping the back of the couch with white knuckles, “all you had to do was ask.”

With a coquettish grin, you exhale to the side and stare at him with hooded eyes. “Is that so?” Plucking the cigarette out of his limp hold, you stub it out in the ashtray. “What if I wanted to ask for something else, Mr. Howard?”

The next moment finds you deposited in his lap, his hands shooting out to grab at your waist only to freeze before they make contact.

“Woah! I--”

“Tell me something.”

Your lips caress the shell of his ear, sharing breath - sharing space as you plaster yourself to his front, arms looped over his shoulders. He jolts, body trembling with restraint.

“Would you give me what I wanted if I said please?”

The distance between you snaps taut with anticipation. “C-Coop,” he stutters. “Call me Coop.”

You hum. “Well, Coop, would you?”

“That depends almost entirely on what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”

Red nails skate along the back of his neck, play in the downy soft hair of his nape just to feel him shiver. And then you’re leaning back with your hands braced on his knees, your legs falling open in invitation.

The hem of your dress bunches around your waist, exposing the soft cotton of your underwear, and the darkened patch of slick soaking through.

“I think you know exactly what I want,” you purr. “Because you want it too. Don’t you?”

He bites down on a strangled moan when your hips arch forward, rocking the soft plush of your ass against the heavy weight of his thickening cock. The zipper digs into your skin as he tents the front of his slacks.

Mouth dropping open, his tongue flicks out to wet his lips - a slick circle of temptation that makes you clench. “I, uh, I don’t…”

Reaching between your splayed thighs, you hook a finger beneath your panties and pull the fabric aside. He jerks forward, exhaling hard at the flash of your soaked cunt and twitching clit.

“C’mon, be honest.”

With a sigh, you gather your arousal on the tips of your fingers.

Cooper’s gaze is a heavy weight pinning you in place as you pretend it’s him dragging his knuckles over the top of your mond. Him dragging calloused fingers up along sticky folds to play with your sensitive clit, ripping soft little mewls from your lips.

“Can’t you see what you do to me, Coop?” you say, pulling your hand away to show the webs of slick stretching between your fingers. “I’m so wet. Please, I’ve wanted you for so long…”

His hips rock against your ass in an aborted thrust. “Shit - shit!” Eyes slamming shut, he grits his teeth and digs his fingers into your sides hard enough to bruise. “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”

“Why not?” Your hand brushes over his groin. “I can feel how hard you are.”

“It isn’t right, that’s why.” He stutters, stumbles over his words, “Besides, Janey…”

“I can be quiet,” you say, lips trembling. “I promise.”

“Goddamnit, you can’t say things like that and expect me not to --” Cutting himself off, strong fingers seize your chin and tilt until you’re met with Cooper’s severe expression, his scorching gaze. “You need to tell me now: are you sure this is what you want?”

There’s no hesitation, “Yes.”

In what world would you refuse?

The words barely pass your lips before Cooper’s bowing his dark head, mouth ravenous as it captures yours in a slick glide of bruising lips and hungry tongues.

He steals your breath, licks into your mouth and traces along the sensitive inside of your lip.

Pulse jump starting, your toes curl over the edge of the cushion and your thighs squeeze the barrel of his chest, kneecaps digging into his ribs.

“Oh,” a moan punches itself out of your throat - a breathy little thing swallowed up by his lips. “That’s--”

Anticipation swells, simmers between you like a band before it snaps. A strong forearm locks around your waist, tugging you into the cradle of his chest until you’re plastered from stem to stern.

Too hungry for tenderness as his free hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers catching in the briar of your hair and tugging at the roots.

You claw at his shoulders while sparks of pain ricochet down your neck, sufficing into a prickly flush that heats your blood. “Hnn, Cooper,” you gasp.

He murmurs your name through languid flicks of his tongue and sharp little nips of skin that leave your mouth tender and swollen. When he pulls away to survey his handiwork, his eyes are dark. Fathomless.

"I never thought I'd get the chance to kiss you like this," he says, wicking his thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip. "You taste as good as I imagined."

Dragging your nails across his scalp, you plead, “No more teasing - I can't take it.”

"Well," he grunts, fingers twisting up in your dress, “If that’s how you feel, then you better put those hips to good use and work for it, sweetheart."

part 2 dropping soon

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard smut #cooper howard #the ghoul #the ghoul smut

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