#replies and starters later this week...

[diveyne]

happy pride fellow girls gays and theys

[endternal]

WHERE: outskirts of pinella pass WHEN: late afternoon, sunset (around 4:30PM); january 2024 WHO: anyone! ( @anchoragestarters ) CAP: 4/4 FULLY CAPPED

In the overgrowth, he sat half-hidden, crouched low and in silence save for the scratching of his ballpoint pen against a tattered paper bag. He was sketching the tree in front of it, its leaves long since lost to the cruelty of Winter. The bark of it was gnarled and twisted but it spoke of a free life lived out in the open, something to which a much younger Karam could have never related. At this time of year, this part of town was not much to look at. Unlike the Spring, when the road was dressed in lush greens, all that survived now were the plants hardy and wretched enough to survive the cold. Still, Karam liked it. He often came here on his days off, just to be alone, for it was usually quiet while the sun was up. What happened after dark, he did not care to look into; he had his suspicions about this place and was happy to leave it alone.

The deafening snap of a twig cleaved in two echoed out into the clearing and Karam snapped to attention. He shoved the bag and pen into his pocket and pulled himself to his feet. Time seemed to run away from him out here; although the snow had taken on a cool peachy glow, he had only just noticed that dusk was falling. Peering through the branches of a dying bush, Karam saw that the intruder was nothing more than a regular person. That likely wasn't a good thing.

Karam slipped noisily out from behind the overgrowth. He could have chosen to be silent and run off without a trace if he'd wanted. A part of him did want to, it was about time he left this place anyway. But, because he needed to catch their attention, he had no choice but to make his presence known. Once he was back out in the open, he pulled himself up to his full height. Karam had never been tall or physically imposing but, with his hair littered with twigs and grass, but he stood with purpose. One might even mistake him for some sort of strange spirit, bound to guard the trees. "You shouldn't be here," he said, words sharp but not quite hissed, before looking up at the dimming sky. "It's getting dark."

[milesducemdominus]

OOC: I'm doing my best to get on top of all of the replies I owe, and I'm almost there! I do still have drafted starters that I owe from the end of last month - - and I know its been a while but I do absolutely intend to get to them. I'll be honest, life has been really difficult lately and I've just not had the time or the energy to be here... and I got pretty backed up on everything. But I'm hoping that I'll manage to get through it all in the next few days.

[sercphs]

Me, actually writing: Holy shit this feels great

Me, looking at the clock and seeing two hours have instantly vanished because of it: W H A T

[byanyan]

"i don't know how this happened" i whisper as i click like on another starter call

[azrahelhasmoved]

*slides ya'll $3* ship with azzie.

[shatteredfears-arch]

i had a red bull for serotonin boost bc my pill serotonin isnt giving me the happy its supposed to and suddenly its 8 pm and ive had a long insta story abt why p/amela i/sley deserves a new and better girlfriend whos also an ecote/rrorist and my drawing pads sitting open on my lap

there is nothing on my drawing pad

[elikajinnie]

Tokyo Drift - N.R

P: Racer!Ni-ki X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Teasing, Possessive Behaviour, Fluff

Synopsis: In the heart of the underground racing scene, you are a passionate starter, known for your ability to ignite excitement before each race. When you first meet Nishimura Ni-ki, a legendary driver, you are initially intimidated by him. However during the races you capture his attention.

a/n: knowing you have the attention of someone like Ni-ki is exciting tbh.. ANYWAYS i am a HUGE lover of the fast & furious franchise so this was quite overdue!! (inspired by this edit : TikTok - Make Your Day)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"I don't get why I have to be there for every race you do," you said, glancing over at your friend, who was gripping the steering wheel with one hand, the other casually shifting gears.

"Because you're the starter," he replied, his tone like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"There are other starters," you shot back. "I'm not the only one."

He raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he asked, "Do you have anything better to do than attend these races?"

You opened your mouth, ready with a rebuttal, but nothing came. After a beat, you closed your mouth and sank back into the seat.

"Yeah, exactly," he said, smug. "Plus, it's good for you to get out and meet new people."

The music from the radio blared a little louder as he cranked up the volume. You sighed, fiddling with the edge of your shirt.

"And it gives you more insight for the big race next month," he added, his eyes focused on the road ahead as the car sped past traffic.

"But that's weeks away," you mumbled under your breath, shifting your gaze out the window, watching the blur of lights and cars fly by.

"You know you’ll thank me later," he said, his voice laced with confidence as he pushed the car to go even faster.

As your friend parked the car, the tires crunching on the gravel beneath, you stepped out and took in the scene. Despite the late hour, the area was alive, glowing under huge industrial lights that bathed the lot in an artificial brightness. Cars were everywhere, a chaotic lineup of souped-up rides with booming music, others showing off their horsepower, engines roaring as they drifted in tight circles.

"Did you want to be a starter today?" your friend asked, leaning casually against the roof of his car.

You shrugged. "Sure," you replied, though your energy didn’t quite match the excitement of the crowd.

Walking away, you strolled past rows of cars, admiring their sleek designs and custom paint jobs, the polished metal gleaming under the lights. You ignored the catcalls from a group of guys leaning against a low-rider, keeping your focus ahead. Tonight, you weren’t dressed to impress—just something simple, thrown on after your friend dragged you out of the house. But your bandana was tied around your wrist, the familiar black-and-white checkered pattern standing out. It was your signature, the same one you used to signal the start of every race.

The energy around you was electric, the thrum of engines mixing with the bass-heavy beats from the cars parked nearby. You wound your way through the crowd, feeling a strange mix of familiarity and detachment. You weren’t really in the mood to be here, but this scene always had a way of pulling you in.

After a bit of wandering, you spotted some familiar faces—people you knew from past races, ones who recognized you right away. They greeted you with nods and half-smiles, pulling you into their small circle.

After hanging around for a bit, chatting with familiar faces, you eventually found yourself drifting toward the starting line. As the races kicked off, your friend waved you over, a sly grin on his face. "Looks like they need a starter," he said, tossing a glance toward the eager crowd of racers lining up. You could already feel the pull, the electricity in the air calling to you.

With a nod, you stepped forward, positioning yourself between two cars. The engines growled, their headlights casting long shadows across the pavement, illuminating your figure as you stood in the middle. Both drivers stared ahead, hands gripping the wheels, laser-focused on the moment. And then there was you—at the center of it all. The one who would signal the start.

You raised your bandana high, feeling the fabric tight around your wrist. The engines revved in response, their deep rumbling vibrating through the ground beneath your feet. All eyes were on you now. The weight of the anticipation, the intensity in the air—it made your pulse quicken.

With a swift motion, you dropped your hand, and like a spark igniting gasoline, the cars exploded forward, tires screeching and smoke billowing up behind them. The sound of engines roaring filled your ears as they sped past, kicking up dust and gravel in their wake. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, the rush of adrenaline coursing through you as you watched them disappear into the distance.

The thrill was undeniable. That moment when everything paused, when the world held its breath before you dropped the flag—it was exhilarating, addictive even.

Race after race, you found yourself sinking into the rhythm of it. Standing between two roaring machines, feeling the raw power they held, and knowing you controlled the moment they unleashed it. The vibrations from the engines, the cheers from the crowd, the smell of burning rubber—it all swirled around you, making you forget about the lazy mood you'd been in earlier.

After another race, you dusted your hands off, feeling the faint tremble of excitement still lingering in your fingers. You were enjoying yourself now, more than you’d expected. This was your element—the rush, the control, the fleeting moments where everything slowed before it erupted into chaos.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You stood with a group of women, chatting casually and enjoying the scene, when a familiar lime-green Mazda rolled up to the line. The car was loud and flashy, just like its driver. You rolled your eyes the moment you saw Haruto step out, all swagger and energy, hyping the crowd as if they hadn’t seen him race a hundred times before. He soaked in the attention, pointing fingers at people he knew, already talking trash with the other drivers.

“Here we go…” you muttered under your breath, more annoyed than amused. Haruto was good—everyone knew that—but his ego was twice the size of his talent.

Just as you were about to turn away, a sleek silver Mitsubishi pulled up to the starting line next. It immediately caught your attention. You whistled low under your breath, admiring the car’s perfect blend of black and white racing stripes that seemed to melt into the silver body like it was designed for this very moment.

“No way…” you heard Ryujin, one of your friends, murmur next to you, her voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.

You turned your head to her, eyebrows raised. “What?”

She didn’t take her eyes off the car as she spoke. “He’s racing against Nishimura.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the name. “Wait… Nishimura?” You whipped your head back to the Mitsubishi, squinting to get a better look at the driver behind the tinted windows.

Everyone in the racing world knew who Nishimura was. His rise was meteoric. A few years ago, he’d been a no-name rookie, just another driver trying to make his mark. But that quickly changed. He became a legend on the underground circuit, with a reputation for being nearly unbeatable. But the man himself? You had never seen him in person. You'd only heard the stories—how he drove like he was born for the track, a natural who didn’t play by anyone’s rules.

Now, standing there, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of curiosity and awe. The Mitsubishi was sleek, powerful, but that wasn’t what had your attention. It was the knowledge that the man behind the wheel was one of the best to ever do it, and tonight, you’d finally get to see him race.

The crowd around you buzzed with energy, whispering Nishimura’s name like it carried some kind of magic. You felt the tension rising, a sense that something bigger than the usual street race was about to happen.

You glanced at Ryujin. “This is going to be over quick, isn’t it?”

She nodded, her eyes glued to the track. “You have no idea.”

As Haruto climbed back into his car, showboating as always, you suddenly felt hands on your back as Karina playfully shoved you forward. "Go on!" she giggled, clearly enjoying herself.

You shot her a wide-eyed look of disbelief. "Don’t push!" you huffed, but your feet had already carried you forward, right into the middle of the two revving cars. The roar of the engines surrounded you, vibrating through the air and into your bones. Standing there, between Haruto’s lime-green Mazda and the sleek Mitsubishi, you felt a surge of energy.

With a stern look, you raised your arms to get their attention. "Now I want a clean race! From both of you," you shouted, pointing between them. You narrowed your eyes specifically at Haruto, who was known to pull sneaky tricks when he got desperate. "No tricks, or jukes."

Haruto revved his engine in response, flashing his usual cocky grin, though his eyes darted toward the Mitsubishi, and for the first time, you noticed a hint of stiffness in his posture. He knew this wasn’t going to be an easy win.

"Ready?" you asked, locking eyes with him. He revved up again, the Mazda growling under the pressure, but his attention was split, clearly sizing up the competition.

Then you turned toward the Mitsubishi. "Ready?" you called, and the car’s engine roared to life, a smooth, confident sound that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t see through the dark windows, but you felt something different in the air—a tension you couldn’t quite place.

With a smirk, you raised your bandana high. "Go!" you shouted, waving it down. Both cars shot off the line like bullets, the roar of their engines drowning out the cheers from the crowd as they sped past you. Dust kicked up in their wake, but you stood your ground, watching as they tore through the track, navigating the turns with precision and speed.

As you turned to walk back to your spot, you didn’t know the effect you’d had.

Inside the Mitsubishi, Nishimura had almost missed his cue. The moment you’d stepped out onto the track, his focus had shifted completely. The fierce concentration he was known for had wavered. For a split second, he’d forgotten where he was, what he was doing, and what was at stake. All he could see was you, standing between the two cars, commanding the moment with confidence and authority. It was enough to throw him off—a rarity for someone like him.

It wasn’t until he saw you pointing directly at him that he snapped out of it, realizing he hadn’t revved his engine. He quickly corrected himself, the roar of the car snapping back into focus as he gunned the accelerator and sped off.

But even as he tore through the turns, effortlessly drifting and leaving Haruto in the dust, his mind kept slipping back to you. He couldn’t shake the image of you standing there,completely unbothered by the chaos around you.

By the time the race was nearing its end, Nishimura was far ahead, his car slicing through the night with ease. Haruto didn’t stand a chance, but the victory was almost secondary. Nishimura’s pulse raced with a different kind of adrenaline, one that had nothing to do with the thrill of the race.

His car roared as it crossed the finish line, its sleek frame gliding effortlessly under the neon lights. The crowd erupted into cheers, but his mind wasn’t on the race. As he pulled his car to a stop and cut the engine, the world seemed to quiet down, everything slowing for just a moment.

He exhaled, unfastened his seatbelt, and pushed open the door. Stepping out of the car, his lean frame emerged, his hair slightly tousled from the speed and wind. The crowd surged toward him, hyping up his victory, chanting his name, but Nishimura’s focus was elsewhere.

His eyes scanned the crowd, searching. It wasn’t the win that made his pulse race—it was you.

When his gaze landed on you, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you. His eyes held yours, a mix of curiosity and something you couldn't quite place, but it made your heart race.

Just as you were about to process the moment, the spell was broken by a familiar voice. "You ready to go home?" Your friend appeared beside you, jingling his keys with a grin. You blinked, startled by the sudden shift, and turned to face him.

You blinked, shaking off the lingering intensity of Nishimura's stare, "Yeah," you nodded softly, a bit dazed, before following him through the crowd. As you walked away, you couldn’t resist glancing back toward where Nishimura had been standing, but to your surprise, he was gone. Just like that.

Huh... where did he go? you thought, scanning the crowd for a sign of him, but he had seemingly vanished without a trace. A strange feeling settled in your chest—curiosity mixed with something else. You shook it off and followed your friend through the throng of people, the night air cooling as the adrenaline from the race began to fade.

When you reached your friend’s car, you leaned against the door and raised an eyebrow. "Did you even race Lucas?"

He laughed, unlocking the car and shaking his head. "Nah, didn’t bother. But I had fun." He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, and you groaned, knowing exactly what he meant.

"Ugh, I did not wanna know that," you said, scrunching up your nose in mock disgust as you slid into the passenger seat.

He chuckled and turned on the engine, the car rumbling to life as he drove off into the quiet night. The ride home was comfortable, the streetlights casting fleeting shadows through the windows.

When your friend finally pulled up in front of your house, you exchanged a quick goodbye. He waved as you got out, and you offered a small smile in return, still distracted. Once inside, you kicked off your shoes, the events of the night catching up to you. A quick shower helped wash away the lingering dust and grime from the track, but it did little to clear your mind.

Finally, you collapsed into bed, your body sinking into the mattress as exhaustion pulled at you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You had been going to more races lately, every weekend like clockwork. The underground scene was alive and buzzing, with each race becoming more intense than the last. But there was one thing you noticed—a pattern that had begun to emerge. Every time you were the starter, Nishimura was there, lined up at the start with his sleek Mitsubishi, ready to race.

At first, you chalked it up to coincidence. But as the weeks passed, it became clear that it wasn’t. No matter where the races were hosted, no matter how different the crowd, Nishimura would be there. And without fail, he’d win. His driving was as smooth and precise as ever, but something about the way his eyes would linger on you just before he sped off—it left you with a strange fluttering feeling you couldn't shake.

You were about to head out when suddenly, the unmistakable wail of sirens cut through the night. In an instant, the entire atmosphere shifted. Chaos erupted as people scrambled to their cars, trying to get out before the cops could close in.

Panic surged through you as you scanned the crowd, looking for any of your friends, but the mess of people made it impossible. Cars were speeding off in every direction, headlights blurring together, and the sound of screeching tires filled the air. Your heart raced, and just as you started to feel the panic rise, a familiar sleek silver car slid to a stop beside you. The window rolled down, and there he was.

"Get in!" Nishimura shouted, his voice urgent but calm.

You didn’t hesitate. Without a second thought, you jumped into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind you. Before you could even get settled, Nishimura hit the gas, and the car shot forward, weaving effortlessly between the other vehicles that were fleeing the scene. You gripped the handlebar above the door, holding on as the car sped through the narrow streets, sliding past cop cars with a precision that left you breathless.

The speedometer arrow kept climbing, the numbers blurring as the engine roared beneath you. You glanced at Nishimura, his hands steady on the wheel, his expression focused yet completely at ease. He was in his element, and you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he handled the car, as if it was an extension of him.

After a few intense minutes, the sirens grew distant, and it became clear that the cops had lost track of you. Nishimura slowed down, the adrenaline still buzzing between the two of you, but the immediate danger had passed. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, relaxing your grip on the handlebar.

Taking a moment to steady yourself, your attention drifted to the interior of the car. Everything was sleek, black, and incredibly well-maintained. The leather seats were soft beneath you, and a soft red glow emanated from under your feet, casting a warm, almost intimate light. You couldn’t help but run your fingers over the dash, admiring the attention to detail.

"You like it?" Nishimura’s voice broke the silence, casual yet with a hint of curiosity.

"I do," you said, glancing over at him. He was still looking at the road, but there was something about the way he asked that told you he was aware of more than just the street ahead of him. His attention was on you, even if his eyes weren’t.

"It fits the owner," you added with a small smile.

He let out a quiet laugh, a sound that was rare but warm. "Thanks," he said, his voice a little softer now, as if the tension from earlier had melted away.

"You don’t usually hang around after races," you said, turning your attention back to him.

He glanced at you briefly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I guess tonight was different."

You tilted your head slightly, curious. "Different how?"

His smile deepened, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he shifted gears smoothly, the car responding instantly to his touch. "I think you know," he finally said, his tone leaving little doubt that his reason for sticking around had something to do with you.

That fluttering feeling in your chest returned, but this time, it wasn’t from the rush of the race or the chase—it was from him.

As the car cruised smoothly through the quiet streets, the earlier intensity of the night had faded into a calm, almost comfortable atmosphere between you and Nishimura. You found yourself feeling surprisingly at ease around him, despite the fact that, up until now, your interactions had been mostly limited to stolen glances and brief conversations.

"You know," he said, glancing over at you as you watched the city pass by through the window, "you don’t have to keep calling me Nishimura."

You blinked and turned to face him. "Oh, right. Is that too formal or something?"

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "A bit. My friends call me Ni-ki."

"Ni-ki?" you repeated, testing the name on your lips.

"Yeah. I’d rather you call me that." His voice was casual, but there was something in the way he said it that felt personal, like he was inviting you into a closer circle.

"Alright, Ni-ki it is," you said, leaning back in your seat as you relaxed. "So, what do people usually call you if they’re not your friends?"

He smirked, his eyes flickering with a hint of amusement. "Depends. Usually something like ‘dangerous,’ or ‘the guy you don’t want to race .’" He glanced at you with a playful glint in his eyes. "But I’d like to think I’m pretty easygoing."

"Right," you said, raising an eyebrow. "You seem so easygoing with the way you handle a car at 100 miles per hour."

He laughed at that, the sound low and genuine, and for a moment, it felt like you were just two people hanging out—nothing more, nothing less. The conversation drifted from racing to random topics, a natural flow of words that felt effortless. He told you about the first time he ever drove a car, how he’d been obsessed with it ever since, and you shared a few stories of your own, mostly about how you had gotten into starting races.

At some point, you noticed the city lights getting closer and realized you were nearing your neighborhood. Ni-ki glanced at you, sensing it was time to ask the inevitable question.

"Where do you want me to drop you off?"

You gave him your address, and he nodded, making a smooth turn onto a quieter street as the roar of the engine softened. The car slowed to a stop outside your building, the night air still and quiet now that the chaos had long since passed. For a brief moment, neither of you said anything.

"Thanks for the ride," you finally said, unbuckling your seatbelt but not quite ready to leave just yet.

"No problem," he replied, his voice softer now, more personal in the quiet space between you.

You lingered for a second, unsure of what to say. Something about the night felt different—like it had marked the beginning of something, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Ni-ki seemed to sense it too, the way he looked at you, his eyes lingering just a little longer.

"Take care," you said, finally breaking the silence.

"You too," he replied, his gaze never wavering. "See you around?"

"Yeah," you nodded, feeling a strange sense of anticipation that you couldn’t explain. "Definitely."

With one last glance, you stepped out of the car and closed the door behind you. As you walked toward your building, you couldn’t resist turning back for a quick look. Ni-ki was still there, watching you, and when your eyes met again, he flashed you a small, knowing smile before revving the engine.

Without another word, he sped off, the silver car disappearing into the night with a smooth, powerful roar.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The past month had been a whirlwind. Your schedule had spiraled into chaos, with personal commitments swallowing up all your free time. You hadn’t even thought about the races, let alone attended one. But finally, a weekend had opened up, and you felt a rush of excitement at the thought of getting back to the underground scene.

Your friend picked you up, their car bumping with bass as they pulled up to your place. You jumped in, the familiar thrill of anticipation bubbling up inside you. The ride was filled with chatter about the races you’d missed, and as you drove closer to the city, you could feel the energy in the air building.

When you arrived at the race area, it was alive with activity, the night sky illuminated by the glow of headlights and streetlights. Cars were parked everywhere, their owners mingling and showcasing their machines. The sound of engines revving and laughter filled the air, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe.

As you wandered through the crowd, taking in the sights and sounds, you spotted Haruto leaning against a sleek, newly polished car. When he caught your eye, he grinned and pushed off the vehicle to approach you.

"How do you like the new car?" he called out as he got closer, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

You stopped, admiring the vehicle as he gestured toward it. "When did you get this one?" you asked, genuinely curious about the flashy machine that had a glossy finish reflecting the neon lights around it.

"Got it last week," he replied proudly, running a hand over the hood. "Pretty ain’t she?"

"She?" You raised an eyebrow, teasing him. "You gendered it?"

He shrugged, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "What? It just feels right. She’s got curves, you know?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. "Sure, whatever you say, Romeo."

He laughed, shaking his head as you turned to walk away. "You wait until you see her in action! I’ll show you what she’s made of."

You waved him off, your eyes wandering as you continued to explore the scene. The adrenaline was intoxicating, the atmosphere buzzing with energy. You admired the different cars, from flashy sports models to classic muscle machines.

As you continued to roam the crowd, you felt the excitement in the air, but it was abruptly interrupted by a guy who stepped in front of you. He had an easy smile, but there was something off about the way he was looking at you.

"Hey there! What’s your name?" he asked, leaning slightly closer.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to gauge his intentions. "Not interested," you replied coolly, attempting to sidestep him.

He moved to block your path again, undeterred. "Come on, just a name. How about a number then? We could grab a drink later."

You shook your head firmly. "No thanks, I'm not interested."

His expression shifted, irritation creeping into his smile. "You sure? I could show you a good time," he said, stepping a little too close for comfort.

A sense of unease washed over you as his demeanor changed. "Back off," you warned, crossing your arms. But he didn’t take the hint; instead, he leaned in even closer, trying to assert his presence.

Just then, you felt a familiar presence behind you. A voice cut through the tension, deep and commanding. "She said no. You should listen."

Nishimura appeared, sliding a hand around your waist possessively. The gesture was both comforting and electrifying, and you could feel the shift in the atmosphere. The guy's expression turned from annoyance to fear as he realized who he was dealing with.

The guy hesitated for a moment, looking between the two of you, then backed off, hands raised in defeat. "Whatever, man. She’s not worth it anyway," he muttered before disappearing into the crowd.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, turning to Ni-ki. "Thanks, but I had it under control," you said, attempting to downplay the situation.

He raised an eyebrow, concern etched across his face. "Didn’t look like it. I hate seeing people act like that."

You opened your mouth to argue, but the intensity of his gaze made you pause. There was something in the way he looked at you that made your heart race.

"I missed you," he said suddenly, his voice dropping to a softer tone. It was as if the words slipped out without him even realizing it.

The admission hung in the air between you, leaving you speechless. You blinked, taken aback by the unexpected vulnerability in his voice. You’d been excited to see him again, but hearing him say that made something inside you flutter.

"You… missed me?" you finally managed to stammer, your cheeks flushing slightly.

He looked a little sheepish, his usual confidence momentarily faltering. "Yeah, I mean—well, it’s been a month since I last saw you. Of course, I did," he replied, his tone shifting back to its usual nonchalance, but you could tell he was trying to cover up the slip.

"Right," you said, your mind racing. There was an undeniable connection sparking between you, and the thought of it made your heart race even faster.

The rest of the night unfolded in a whirlwind of adrenaline and excitement as you found yourself gravitating closer to Ni-ki. His presence felt like a shield, and you relished every moment spent by his side. Every time someone glanced your way with interest or a hint of aggression, you could feel his posture stiffen beside you, a silent warning in his gaze that made you feel protected.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

One evening, as you both leaned against his car, the night air buzzing with anticipation for the upcoming races, he turned to you, his expression serious. “I have something to tell you,” he said, his voice steady yet laced with excitement.

You tilted your head, intrigued. “What is it?”

“I got scouted,” he announced, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile. “They want me to race for them in Japan.”

Your heart skipped a beat, a rush of joy surging through you. “That’s amazing, Ni-ki! You deserve it! This is such a huge opportunity!” You couldn’t help but feel proud of him, your excitement bubbling over.

“Thanks! I’m really excited,” he said, his smile widening. Then, his expression shifted, and he looked at you earnestly. “And I want you to come with me.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, feeling a flutter of nerves and anticipation at the same time.

“I want you to be my starter full-time for all my races,” he clarified, his gaze intense as it locked onto yours. “I can’t imagine doing this without you by my side. You’ve been a huge part of my journey so far, and I want you to continue with me.”

Your heart raced at the thought, excitement and disbelief flooding your mind. “You really want me to come with you?”

“Absolutely. You know how much racing means to me. I need someone I trust out there, and that’s you,” he said, sincerity shining in his eyes.

“I’d love to, Ni-ki!”

His face broke into a wide grin, the kind that lit up his entire demeanor. “Really? You’re on board?”

“I’m absolutely on board! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over.

He stepped closer, his arms opening wide, and without hesitation, you jumped into his embrace.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this!” he said into your hair, his voice slightly muffled but filled with excitement. You felt his joy resonate through you, and it made your heart swell even more.

“I know! It’s unreal!” You pulled back slightly, your hands resting on his shoulders as you looked up into his eyes, both of you sharing that moment of exhilaration.

Ni-ki chuckled softly, still holding you close. “This is going to be amazing.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

He shook his head, a playful glint in his eyes. “We’re going to crush it together, right? You’ll be my lucky charm out there.”

You laughed, feeling a rush of determination at his words. “Absolutely.”

He grinned, his confidence infectious. “And I’ll make sure we leave them in the dust.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

When you arrived at Ni-ki’s place, you parked your car, and took a moment to admire the neighborhood. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over everything.

Walking toward the open garage door, your gaze drifted to his sleek car sitting in the center, the hood propped open and revealing the beautifully engineered engine underneath. It was like a masterpiece of machinery, glinting under the fluorescent lights.

“Ni-ki?” you called out, your voice echoing slightly in the spacious garage.

Suddenly, Ni-ki rolled out from underneath another car nearby, his face lighting up with a bright smile. “There you are!” he exclaimed, a hint of surprise and delight in his tone. He stood up, wiping his hands with a rag he pulled from his belt, the fabric stained with oil and grease.

You couldn’t help but widen your eyes, taking in the sight of him. He was wearing a pair of dirty overalls over a white tank top, which was now marred with grease and smudges. The way his muscles flexed as he worked on the cars made it hard to focus on anything else. “You work on the cars?” you asked, trying to divert your attention from how good he looked in that moment.

“Yeah, I like to tinker here and there,” he replied casually, picking up a tool from a nearby bench before rolling back under the car. “It’s kind of become a hobby!”

You hummed thoughtfully, walking around the car to get a better view of his progress. The vehicle was clearly totaled, having seen better days after a recent crash. Yet, you could see the way he meticulously worked to fix it up, and admiration swelled within you. “This one looks like it needs a lot of love,” you commented, kneeling down to peek under the car as well.

“It does, but I can fix it,” he said with a mix of confidence and determination. “It just takes time. Plus, I enjoy the challenge.”

“Have you always liked working on cars?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Pretty much. My dad and I used to work on our old cars together when I was a kid,” he said, his voice slightly distant as if reminiscing about those moments. “I guess it stuck with me. It’s therapeutic, you know? Just me and the car, figuring things out.”

You nodded, understanding how those moments could mean so much. “It’s great to have a passion outside of racing. Do you have a dream car you want to work on one day?”

He paused for a moment, considering your question. “Definitely. I’d love to build a classic muscle car from the ground up one day. Something that turns heads and leaves a mark on the road.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, feeling a surge of inspiration at the thought of him chasing another dream. “I’d love to see that happen.”

Ni-ki rolled out from under the car again, this time standing up to face you fully. “You’ll be there to cheer me on, right?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief.

“Always,” you promised, feeling a warmth spread through you.

He grinned and stepped closer, wiping his hands on his overalls again, though it only spread the grease around more. “Well, since you’re here, you can help me out! I need a second pair of hands to hold the engine cover while I fix this part.”

“Sure! What do I need to do?” you said eagerly.

“Just hold it steady while I tighten these bolts,” he instructed, moving back under the car again.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The days leading up to the race in Japan had been a whirlwind of excitement and adventure. Ni-ki showed you the sights of Tokyo, from the bustling streets of Shibuya to the tranquil gardens of the Imperial Palace.

As the day of the race approached, however, you noticed a shift in Ni-ki’s demeanor. He became quieter, more introspective, often staring off into space as if lost in his thoughts. You could see the weight of expectations resting heavily on his shoulders.

On the morning of the race, you found him sitting on the edge of his bed, his expression a mix of determination and anxiety. “Ni-ki,” you said softly, approaching him. “Are you okay?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I’m just nervous, you know? This is a big deal, and I really want to perform well.”

You sat beside him, placing a reassuring hand on his back. “You’ve worked so hard for this, and you’re more than ready. Just remember why you started racing in the first place.”

He nodded, but his gaze remained downcast. You took a deep breath, wanting to instill confidence in him. “You’re going to crush it out there, I know you will. Just focus on driving and trust yourself.”

As you spoke, you could see his tension slowly ease, the fire igniting in his eyes once more. “Thanks for always being here for me,” he said quietly.

Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. He blinked in surprise, his cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson. “Win for me, okay?” you said with a warm smile, and watched as his gaze hardened with resolve.

“I will,” he promised, the determination in his voice returning. You could see that your words had reignited the spark within him.

As night fell, you found yourselves in the car, cruising through the darkened streets of Tokyo. The city was alive with neon lights reflecting off the sleek surfaces of buildings, casting a colorful glow that seemed to pulse in rhythm with the hum of excitement in the air.

Ni-ki’s hands gripped the steering wheel with a newfound confidence, and as he navigated the winding roads, you could feel the adrenaline building between you. “Are you ready?” he asked, glancing over at you.

“I was born ready!” you replied, trying to keep the mood light, but the thrill of the moment was palpable.

He chuckled, a mischievous grin breaking through his earlier nerves. “That’s what I like to hear.”

As he drove, the anticipation grew heavier. You could almost taste the excitement as you approached the race venue, the sounds of revving engines and cheering crowds growing louder. You felt a surge of pride knowing you’d be right by his side, supporting him through every twist and turn of the race.

“Just remember,” you said, leaning closer as he focused on the road, “no matter what happens out there, you’ve got this."

His expression softened, and he turned to meet your gaze. “Thanks for believing in me. It means everything.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Always, Ni-ki."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You strolled around the venue, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. The high-end cars gleamed under the bright lights, each one more stunning than the last. You took your time admiring the sleek designs and intricate details.

Trying to immerse yourself in the culture, you remembered some of the Japanese phrases Ni-ki had taught you during your flight. You approached a group of racers and smiled, offering compliments. While some responded with smiles and nods, others seemed confused, and you quickly realized that your limited vocabulary wasn’t enough to keep the conversations going.

As you wandered, you eventually found yourself standing alone, lost in thought about the upcoming race, when a tall guy approached you with a smirk. He started speaking rapidly in Japanese, gesturing animatedly, but you could only catch bits and pieces.

“Sorry” you said, apologizing. “I don’t understand," you added, hoping he would take the hint and leave you alone.

Instead, his expression darkened, and he leaned closer, his voice becoming more aggressive as he pressed you with questions you couldn’t comprehend. When he reached out and grabbed your wrist, panic surged through you, and you instinctively pulled away. However, his grip was too tight, and the pressure made you wince.

Just then, you heard a familiar voice cut through the commotion. “Hey! Get away from her!” Ni-ki stormed in, eyes blazing with anger as he pulled you behind him, creating a protective barrier.

The guy hesitated, then turned to Ni-ki, their eyes locking as they began to argue back and forth in rapid Japanese. You couldn’t follow their exchange, but the intensity of the situation was palpable. You rubbed your wrist, still feeling the remnants of the man’s grip as you looked from Ni-ki to the guy, who had turned an alarming shade of red, clearly taken aback by Ni-ki`s arrival.

Finally, Ni-ki turned away from the confrontation and guided you toward his car, his grip firm but gentle on your shoulder. “Come on,” he said, urgency in his tone.

“What? What happened?” you asked, bewildered, still trying to process everything.

“I’m racing,” he replied shortly, his eyes focused ahead as he led you toward his Mitsubishi.

“Against who?” you asked, glancing back at the guy, who was now standing there with a scowl, his earlier bravado deflated.

“Against the creep,” Ni-ki answered, anger simmering beneath his calm exterior.

Your heart raced at the thought. “Wait, Ni-ki, you don’t have to do this! It’s not worth it.”

He shot you a determined look, his jaw set. “I know. But he can’t just treat you like that. This isn’t just about racing; it’s about respect.”

You swallowed hard, realizing how serious he was. As he climbed into the driver’s seat, you took a moment to collect yourself, grateful for his protective instincts. “Are you sure you’re okay to race right now?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.

He turned to you, his expression softening just a fraction. “I’m fine. I just need to focus. You’ll be right here, right?”

“Of course,” you replied, forcing a smile to reassure him, even though you were still rattled by the encounter.

You took a deep breath, standing between Ni-ki's sleek Mitsubishi and the other guy's car—a flashy, souped-up Honda that glinted under the neon lights. Your heart raced, a mix of excitement and anxiety coursing through you. You could feel the energy in the air, thick with anticipation as both drivers revved their engines, the deep growl echoing around you.

"Are you guys ready?" you called out, trying to maintain your composure as you pointed toward both cars. Ni-ki shot you a confident nod, his eyes locked on the road ahead. The other driver, still wearing a cocky grin, gave you a thumbs-up.

As the cars revved louder, you turned your gaze to a guy standing nearby, holding a walkie-talkie. He was scanning the area, and when he got the go-ahead that the police were nowhere in sight, he shot you a thumbs-up.

Your pulse quickened at the sight, and you felt a rush of adrenaline. You lifted the flag high, your heart pounding in your chest, and with a swift motion, you waved it down. "Go!" you shouted, your voice carrying over the roar of the engines.

Both cars shot off the line, tires screeching as they sped into the dark streets of Tokyo. You watched as they darted away, the headlights illuminating the path ahead like shooting stars against the night sky. The ground trembled beneath your feet from the sheer power of the vehicles, and you could almost feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins as the excitement enveloped you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Ni-ki gripped the steering wheel tightly, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he and the other driver raced side by side through the neon-lit streets of Tokyo. He could feel the intensity radiating from the other car, a flashy Honda that kept trying to tip him off balance.

“Come on, you think you can take me out?” he muttered under his breath, his eyes locked on the road ahead. The guy was aggressive, swerving dangerously close and attempting to nudge him off course. Ni-ki remained focused, expertly maneuvering around the obstacles in his path.

He drifted into a turn, the tires screeching against the asphalt as he counter-steered and weaved through the traffic. Cars honked and swerved, their drivers caught off guard by the reckless speed of the two racers. The other driver tried to play dirty, attempting to crash into Ni-ki's rear, but Ni-ki was prepared for it. He kept his cool, steering away just in time and cutting in front of the guy as they barreled through a narrow alleyway.

“Not today,” he said through gritted teeth, determination fueling every decision he made.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ni-ki noticed a police car trailing behind them, its sirens blaring loudly. His heart dropped as he glanced in the rearview mirror, the flashing lights reflecting the urgency of the situation. “No, no, no,” he repeated, frustration rising within him. He couldn’t let himself get caught—not after everything they had worked for.

The other driver seemed to notice the approaching officer as well, and in a desperate attempt to throw Ni-ki off his game, he swerved dangerously close, trying to shove Niki into the path of the police car. Ni-ki's heart raced as he saw the cop trying to close the gap, the pressure mounting.

With quick reflexes, Ni-ki shifted gears and accelerated, pushing his car to its limits as he turned sharply to avoid a collision. He felt the weight of the Honda trying to force him into a corner, but he countered with another drift, keeping his grip tight on the wheel. The other driver, frustrated and reckless, made a final lunge for Ni-ki's car, but in the process, he miscalculated.

Ni-ki watched as the guy’s car collided with the police vehicle, the impact sending both cars spinning. Metal crunched, and he could hear the screeching of tires against pavement. Ni-ki couldn’t help but glance back, disbelief washing over him as he saw the police car crash into a row of parked cars, sending them crashing into one another like dominoes.

“Holy—” he breathed, shaking his head. The guy had gone too far. He took a moment to process the chaos, his heart still racing, but he knew he couldn’t dwell on it. The adrenaline and excitement of the race was intoxicating, and he had to keep his head in the game.

Ni-ki refocused on the road ahead, determination burning in his chest. He could see the finish line in the distance, the crowd gathering, their cheers a distant roar that urged him forward. With one final surge of speed, he pressed down on the accelerator, feeling the power of the car respond instantly. He was going to win this race—not just for himself, but for you, the one waiting at the finish line.

As he crossed the line, the cheers of the crowd erupted around him, the thrill of victory washing over him like a wave. But even in that moment, he knew he had to keep his cool and stay grounded. After all, he was racing not just against the clock, but against chaos itself.

As Ni-ki crossed the finish line, the exhilaration of victory pulsed through him. He could hardly contain his excitement as he slammed the brakes, his Mitsubishi screeching to a halt. The roar of the crowd enveloped him, a wave of adrenaline and triumph crashing over him like a tidal wave. He hopped out of the car, his heart racing not just from the race but from the sight of you waiting at the finish line, a wide smile on your face.

“Did you see that?” he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with joy as he bounded over to you. He pulled you into a tight embrace, lifting you off your feet for a moment. The thrill of the win felt amplified with you by his side, and he couldn't help but bask in the warmth of your presence.

“I did! You were amazing!” you replied, laughter bubbling from your lips as he set you down.

“Just doing what I do best,” he said with a playful smirk, rubbing the back of his neck in a show of modesty. But the pride in his eyes was unmistakable. He took a moment to soak it all in, the cheers of the crowd ringing in his ears, but it was your smile that made his heart swell with happiness.

As the crowd surged around him, eager to congratulate the victor, Ni-ki turned back to you, his expression softening. “You know, I couldn’t have done it without you,” he said, sincerity lacing his words. “You were my good luck charm.”

Your cheeks flushed at his compliment, and you felt a surge of pride wash over you. “I’ll be your good luck charm any day,” you teased, poking him playfully in the side.

The celebration continued around you, people shouting his name and clapping him on the back. Ni-ki basked in the glory, but even as the crowd cheered and celebrated, his eyes kept darting back to you, finding comfort in your presence.

From then, every race he entered seemed to follow the same pattern. Each time, he emerged victorious, his confidence soaring with each win.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Laying on the hood of Ni-ki's car, the warmth of the metal beneath you was comforting as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the city. The vibrant hues of orange and pink painted the sky, creating a perfect backdrop for the moment you both shared. You leaned into Ni-ki, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your side, and you couldn't help but smile as you glanced up at him.

Ni-ki's gaze was fixed on you, his eyes shimmering with a mix of happiness and something deeper—something that made your heart flutter.

As you exchanged shy glances, the atmosphere shifted. The distance between you disappeared, and suddenly, you found yourselves inching closer together. Your heart raced, a mix of anticipation and excitement coursing through you as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice low and tender.

“Hey,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

In that moment, everything felt perfect. You both leaned in, your lips meeting in a gentle kiss. It started soft and sweet, but as Ni-ki pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, it became something more. His hands slid around your waist, anchoring you to him as you melted against him, losing yourself in the warmth of his embrace.

You could feel his heart racing against your chest, mirroring the excitement and passion that filled the air around you.

As the kiss grew more passionate, you felt Ni-ki’s fingers thread through your hair, pulling you even closer. You sighed against him, savoring the moment, the thrill of it all—this incredible connection that had blossomed between you.

Finally, you pulled away, both of you breathless and smiling like fools, your foreheads resting against each other.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he admitted, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

“Oh, really?” you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. “You seemed pretty good at racing; I thought you’d be good at kissing too.”

Ni-ki chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m still figuring out this whole romance thing. But with you? It just feels right.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but lean in for another quick kiss. The sun had fully set now, leaving a blanket of stars shimmering overhead, but the warmth of the moment lingered.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt behind the cut; "Tim's free cloning lab". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Red Robin’s commitment issues are his own problem, not mine. I’ve got a schedule to keep,” Luthor replies dismissively, then knocks back the last of his hopefully-actually-a-protein-shake-and-not-Bane-venom-or-something and gets to his feet, picking up his tablet again as he does. He does not seem concerned to be alone in a lab full of sharp objects and computers with two only negligibly-restrained Bats. Admittedly Luthor doesn’t tend to seem concerned during literal multiversal apocalypses, but Tim is vaguely insulted on principle. A multiversal apocalypse couldn’t do any worse than uncreate Luthor and everything he’s ever done in his life, after all. He could tank his stock prices and drive up all his insurance rates, and then make him have to live with it. 

A little respect isn’t that much to ask, is it? 

“Wow, called out by the supervillain,” Steph mutters to him under her breath. “The Metropolis supervillain, even.” 

“I do not have commitment issues,” Tim mutters back to her. 

“Yes you do, the issue is you commit yourself to somebody and then become an insane person about them but never actually mention the existence of said commitment to them,” she retorts frankly. 

“I do not–” 

“When did you go for the red and black suit again and how long did you stick with it?” 

“. . . we’re in a supervillain lair in Connecticut, I don’t have to answer that right now.” 

“Oh, so you will later?” 

“So anyway, new supervillain trap, how’s that going for you?” Tim asks Luthor. Steph snorts at him; he ignores her and all her baseless, ridiculous, baseless accusations that are definitely not currently reading him for absolute filth. “All coming together nicely, no tech issues? Because we could troubleshoot those for you while we’re waiting for extraction, no charge.” 

“The chemical breakdown of the necessary stabilizer you missed when you were cleaning out my old labs is laid out in file B-2.13, speaking of ‘troubleshooting’,” Luthor mentions, and Tim . . . pauses. 

“‘Stabilizer’,” he echoes carefully, and then glances around the sunroom lab. The sunroom cloning lab. 

The sunroom. 

Ah. 

That is probably a connection he should've made, like . . . literally instantly, yeah. 

“Oh my god, do you think you can actually convince Red Robin to make you another–wait, why do you even want Red Robin to make you another Superman or whatever, you did it better than he ever did,” Steph says, squinting in bewilderment at Luthor through her mask. Tim’s much more insulted this time, even if it’s objectively true that Kon is objectively–never mind. Luthor just looks dubious. 

“I don’t want another Superman, there are already far too many of those running around and being an issue as it is,” he snorts dismissively, waving her off. “And I’m willing to provide a useful little resource or two, of course, but it’s hardly traditional to have to make my own grandchildren, now is it. Besides, Supernova won’t be as annoyed about it if they come from you. Though I did include some potential design notes for your consideration in the C folder, of course. Streamlined the tactile telekinesis a bit, for starters. It really didn’t come out as effective as intended, unfortunately.” 

“Of course,” Tim echoes, perfectly aware of that one time that Kon took apart every single gun inside the exact city limits of Los Angeles and nothing else without even meaning to, and also that one time last week when he very much did mean to disassemble a bomb immediately after its trigger mechanism had been tripped, and did it so fast that it didn't detonate. 

So as politely as possible, that makes Luthor’s use of the word “effective” slipped in there a little mind-numbingly terrifying to consider. 

More than anything else, though, Tim really hopes that he’s just gone insane and hallucinated all this, because otherwise he’s going to have to write all this down in a report, and Steph will not lie for him about this one. 

Case in point: she is currently laughing her fucking ass off at him.

[bomber-grl]

A winter night with Damian Wayne

CW: reader is really lovey dovey and embarrassingly bold

Authors note: I’m aware it’s barely October , I want winter neow

It had never occurred to you how sensitive Damian was to the cold until he knocked on your door a few days ago, requesting to cuddle on your bed. Now,a week later you hear a knock at your door.

You get up from your bed, going from laying to sitting upright.”who is it?” You call out.

Without a second thought the door swings wide open.“Who else?” Damian says this with a very annoyed tone, almost enough to make you laugh considering his wild bed hair and the Jammie’s that he’s in.

Still you choose silence over him getting upset over being teased.

“Bad dream?” You asked. “No” he replied and then crawled onto the bed and besides you as if it were his own.

You choose to ask another question, “cold?” He glared at you and answers “here.” He grabs your hands and places them on his face, they’re freezing. “Does that answer your question, I always come here because you’re so warm.”

“Really? That’s the reason you come and visit me at night? Not any other reason? “ You ask this knowing the only reason he ever comes late at night is to cuddle and bask in your affection, still it doesn’t hurt to tease, right?

“Shut up before I leave” he says this but you know damn well he wouldn’t (🤭)

“Sureee… well here” you grab the other blanket and cover Damian with it.

He snuggled in next to you and intertwined your legs with one another, he faces you and begins telling you random things that happened throughout his day despite his very indifferent reactions to your affection.

“ Yknow, I saw this super obese squirrel, it was honestly concerning. why would people continue feeding it when it’s already obese?”

Gosh you love him.

Well soon he quiets down and it kinda concerns you. However, before you get the chance to ask he says something.

“Yknow, I did have a nightmare. I know I denied it when you had asked but I actually did. I was also cold, so that wasn’t a complete lie.”

You face him, “do you want to tell me about it?”

He visibly hesitates but then continues, “something…not so good happened to you and me.”

He doesn’t elaborate, and you pull him into a hug. You don’t say anything and just hold him, and although you don’t know it, he really appreciates it.

You pull away “hey Damian, you smell really good yknow? Especially your hair.” He laughs.

Oh his laugh

“Shut up you weirdo” he says this while stifling his laugh. Thank goodness you brought the mood up again.

“Hey Damian”

“What is it?”

“I really really like you” you say this, emphasizing the “really”. Damian’s face was hilarious, although it was dark you could still see it through the moonlight creeping through the window.

To say he was hardly blushing would be a lie.

“Oh, shut up” he pushes you away and turns the other way, but then you grab him.

“Hey look at me”

“N-no get away!”

“Why not? Scared I’ll see your cute face!” This calls his attention and he turns to face you.

“I’m not cute whatsoever!” Now his eyebrows are furrowed accompanied by his very much blushing face.

You grab his hands and trap them “yes you are”

“No I’m not!”

“Yes you are”

“How?!” Damian’s totally falling for your teasing

“Well for starters you’re so cute that whenever I see you I just want to kiss you” you pull him closer.

You swear you hear him whisper something under his breath

“Huh? What’s you say?” You tease

He doesn’t even bother looking up at your eyes, instead he stays staring at your lips.

“I said, then why don’t you? Why don’t you just kiss me already?”

Now it was your turn to get flustered, and you’re not the only one. You guess that really took a Damian out since he now refuses to look at you.

“Really?” You ask just to make sure

“Yes!” He responds embarrassingly fast

You lean forward and you and Damian’s lips collide. He’s so stiff but as you continue kissing he loosens up with your lips against his you begin to hear him let out little pants in between, then you separate.

Damian’s cheeks are flushed and you can only imagine what you look like right now. You suddenly become aware of the time and look at it on your phone.

It’s already 3:00 a.m

“Hey Damian, I really liked our little make out sesh, if we can even call it that, but I think we really need to go mimis now” you show him the time.

“Yea alright…just one more?” He asks.

“Yea” you lean in and kiss him once more, neither of you miss how your lips lingered on his but neither of you mentions it.

He lays down on his back once again as do you, you get the blankets over the two of you and get comfortable.

You snuggle into Damian as he does to you, and you both go to bed with the comfort of each others warmth.

-

You both wake up the next morning and when you go down into the dining room where all the batfam are Alfred asks you guys “sleep well?” Queue Tim bursting out laughing and everyone giving you knowing looks.

———————————————————————————

Authors note hi guys! Hope you enjoyed and if there is any spelling mistakes feel free to point it out! :)

[minniesmutt]

❄︎ ━━━━━━ 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲

❄︎ ━━━ PAIRING: LEE KNOW X READER X SEUNGMIN ❄︎ ━━━ CW: DOM!LEE KNOW, DOM!SEUNGMIN, SUB!READER, PRIMAL PLAY,  PET NAMES (BUNNY,), FINGERING (ANAL & VAGINAL), ORAL (M. REC),  ANAL PLUG, TEMPERATURE PLAY (?), ICE PLAY (?), DEGRADING, MEAN DOMS!2MIN, CHOKING, CLIT PLAY, LIGHT BONDAGE, OUTDOOR SEX, SPITROAST, UNPROTECTED SEX, IMPLIED MORE ROUNDS, CREAMPIE, AFTERCARE ❄︎ ━━━ WC: 2.2K ❄︎ ━━━ NOTE:  ❄︎ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

    The holidays were a perfect time to just get away. Y/n felt lucky both her boyfriends had time off for a week. Planning a trip up to her family cabin to get away from everything. 

     Minho drove the three of them up to the cabin. A week away from civilization in the woods with just the three of them. Y/n got the place unlocked when they arrived and the two idols brought in all their things to unpack. 

     “You parents aren't coming up this year?” Seungmin asked her

     “No. They’re going on a trip. All ours for a week,” Y/n smiled as she got the food unpacked in the kitchen. 

     Minho brought in some firewood and starters and got a fire started for them. Seungmin took a look outside. The snow has started coming down on their way up, adding to the light bit that was on the ground already. 

     The cabin was on a few acres of land. Y/n had told them her family tended to meet up here in the summer so the kids could run around. It was a very nice cabin surrounded by trees. Suddenly it sparked an idea for him.

     Smiling, he sent a message to Minho, not wanting Y/n to get suspicious of it. Minho looked at the text while tending the fire and smiled. Replying a yes before putting his phone away. Y/n was none the wiser to their little plan.

     The night went on as normal. All three made dinner together and then cuddled up by the fire before passing out on the floor together when the fire was dying out. Once morning came, Seungmin was awake first. Feeling off from sleeping on the floor. He got up nonetheless and started making coffee. Glancing outside to see more snow had fallen, not a lot but enough to back the ground white.

     “More snow,” Minho said from behind him. 

     “Not a lot. She still sleeping?” he asked. 

     “Yeah. Put her in the bed,” Minho said, grabbing some mugs down. 

     The two worked about the kitchen before going outside. Plotting till she woke up and joined them. Taking a seat on Minho’s lap, cuddling into his warmth. 

     “Could’ve stayed inside,” Minho told her

     “It’s fine. Like being out here,” Y/n said

     The three enjoyed the snow for a bit longer before heading inside. Minho made breakfast for the three of them. Sitting at the table and just chatting, planning what to do for the week. Y/n got up once they were done and took care of their dishes.

     “Think two minutes is a good start?” Seungmin asked Minho, calling Y/n’s attention

     “For what?” Y/n asked

     “Don’t worry about it, bunny,” Seungmin called

     Y/n knew from the pet name what was happening. But she decided to play dumb, shrugging it off while the two talked. Y/n cleaned up the dishes and went to steal, one of their sweaters since it was still cold in the cabin and she wanted to be a little prepared

     Half an hour later, cuddled up with them on the couch, Minho started kissing her neck. Slow but the lingering kisses went straight to her pussy. Meanwhile, Seungmin ran his hand up and down her thighs, getting closer to her cunt. 

     Minho pressed his lips to hers, holding her jaw in one hand. Y/n felt Seungmin get up and come back moments later and took her pajama pants off. Y/n smiled against Minho’s lips before he pulled away. “Turn around,” he instructed. 

     Y/n turned onto her stomach while Minho pulled his hard cock out of his pants. Seungmin positioned her knees under her while her hand wrapped around the older man’s cock. Slowly pumping him before wrapping her lips around him. 

     Minho laid a hand on the back of her neck while Seungmin sat on his knees behind her. Opening a lube bottle and letting the thick liquid roll over her ass. Two of his fingers wiped the drop before it could reach her entrance. Instead, they circled her tight hole. 

     Y/n clenched as he teased. Seungmin smiled and dipped a finger into her. Slowly sinking into her as she moaned around Minho’s cock. His finger moved slowly, letting her adjust to the small bit of girth inside her before adding another finger in. 

     Minho gripped the back of her neck, keeping her pressed down on his cock. Keeping himself in her throat and moved her up and down while Seungmin spread her ass open. Picking up his pace while the older man fucked her throat. Y/n moaned and gagged between the two fucking her. Trying to keep up with their speeds before Seungmin pulled his fingers out of her. Y/n tried focusing on Minho’s cock in her throat then she felt something poking her again. 

     Seungmin slowly inserted the cottontail plug into her. Minho pushed her down onto him while. Tip hitting the back of her throat before he spilled inside her. Gripping the back of her neck tighter as Seungmin got the toy in her ass fully. Minho pulled her up once he had finished and caught his breath; leaning towards her with a smirk

     “Wanna play, bunny?”

     “Yes,” Y/n said, looking up at him.

     “When we say, run. We catch you, we use you,“ Seungmin said, pulling her pajama pants back up, covering her ass. Not bothering with her underwear.

     “If you can make it back here in an hour, we’ll do whatever you want,” Minho added

     Easy. She grew up running around the land and the woods that surrounded it. She knew them like the back of her hand. She could manage to evade them in the woods for an hour and get back inside.

     “We’ll give you a two-minute head start,” Seungmin told her

     “Run, bunny,” Minho growled in her ear.

     Y/n bolted up, going for the front door and grabbing her boots. Managing to slip them on her way out and made her way to the back of the house. Full of confidence that she would win, running slow, taking her time to find a spot.

     Confidently looking back at the house once she hit the dense tree line, she saw the two walking out the back door. Y/n disappeared into the trees and quickly looked for a hiding spot. Shivering from the cold and the snow. Listening to the sounds of their shoes in the snow.

     Y/n looked down and saw her own tracks. Heartbeat picked up realizing they would just follow her shoe tracks. Maybe if she could put more distance between them she could still win their little game.

     She ran further into the woods, faster this time. Trying not to let the snow slow her down even if it did just a little bit. Cold air pushed against her face as she stopped by a tree to catch her breath.

     “Come on bunny,” Seungmin’s voice called, “You know we’re gonna catch you.” 

     Y/n turned to run again, only getting a few feet from her spot till Minho caught her. One arm wrapped around her middle while his hand wrapped around her throat. “Caught you bunny.” He growled in her ear.

     Y/n twisted and turned to get out of his grip, failing miserably. Minho chuckled at her attempt, pushing his arm around her middle down and into her pajama pants. Fingers running over her clit. Y/n bit her lower lip, still trying to get out of his grip. Determined to get back to the house.

     “Dumb little bunny,” Seungmin tsked as he joined them.

     Y/n leaned forward, only for Minho to pull her straight up against him and slip two fingers into her. Seungmin walked over to them and pulled her pajama pants down. Y/n closed her legs as soon as the cold hit her skin. Seungmin got the pants off her legs and forced her legs open. Y/n whined as the two turned her to face Minho, Seungmin pressing himself behind her and grabbing the bottom of her jacket.

     Pulling the fabric over her head, it joined her pants in the snow. Y/n tried covering herself from the cold but Seungmin was quicker. Grabbing her arms and pulling them behind her back. Minho’s fingers never letting up inside her. Fucking her quickly while Seungmin tied her hands behind her back. Her body leaned towards Minho as his finger fucking was getting to be too much with his palm brushing her clit.

     Minho pulled his fingers out of her before she could cum. Pushing his fingers in her mouth a second later. Y/n whined as his fingers reached the back of her throat. Thrusting them in and out of her quickly while Seungmin groped her breasts, fingers playing with her hard nipples. Y/n pushed back on Seungmin, making him look down. Seungmin stepped back and brought his hands to her hips. Fingers running over the skin off her ass.

     “Want it now, don’t you?” Seungmin asked, reeling a hand back and smacking her ass.

     Y/n screamed around Minho’s fingers at the sting. Fingers curled into the palm of her hands. Seungmin landed a second onto her other cheek as Minho pulled his fingers out of her mouth. Minho wiped his wet fingers along her nipples as Seungmin pushed his fingers into her mouth. The older one pulled himself out of his pants and pulled one of her legs up. 

     Y/n fought against both of them, trying to pull away. Every attempt stopped as Minho’s cock pushed past her folds. Shoving himself into her. Y/n’s head lulled back as he filled her up. His other hand grabbed the little cottontail in her. Pulling on the plug just to tease her, making her whine against Seungmin’s fingers. 

     Seungmin pulled fingers out of her mouth so they could hear her moans, wiping them clean over her breasts. The mix of the cold air and saliva on her made her nipples harder. Minho pulled out and set her leg down, spinning her to face Seungmin again. 

     Both boys bent her down. Minho slipped back into her while holding her bound wrists. Seungmin held the back of her head as he pulled himself out of his pants. Pointing the tip at her lips. Y/n refused to open them for him, making him pinch her nose till she opened her mouth. Y/n tried to hold out as long as she could but failed. Needing oxygen in her legs just for Seungmin to block it with his cock. Letting go of her nose and moving with Minho. One pulling out with the other pushing in.

     “Just the way you belong,” Minho groaned behind her 

     “Think we should keep her like this for the whole week?” Seungmin asked 

     Y/n clenched at the words. Being used as their sex toy for the whole week damn near did it for her. It didn't go unnoticed either. Minho spanked her with his free hand, making her jump and moan. 

     “Seems like our little rabbit likes that idea,” he chuckled and picked up his thrusting pace. Using the rope to move her against the two of them.

     Y/n shivered as a cold breeze went by them, clenching around both. Both idols groaned at the feeling and picked up their pace. Working themselves to their orgasms while disregarding hers.

     Seungmin was the first to spill. Shoving himself down her throat and keeping her still. Minho followed seconds later. Both filling her up before pulling out and letting her fall to the snowy ground. Y/n gasped as the snow hit her skin, rolling onto her back and catching her breath after swallowing the cum in her mouth.

     Both men stood above her, watching her try to get up as they fixed themselves. The two squatted down and picked up handfuls of snow. Y/n tried her best to scoot away from the to get up and get back to the house. Failing as Seungmin smushed the snow onto her nipples. Y/n arched her back off the ground as Minho pushed the snow onto her clit.

     “There’s our pretty snow bunny,” Minho smiled

     “Cold,” Y/n groaned, limbs feeling numb from the cold.

     “Better get back to the house then bunny,” Seungmin picked up her clothes while Minho put her back on her feet. The two watched her get a few feet with Minho’s cum dripping down her legs before she had to lean up against the tree.

     The two started walking and Minho got in front of her and threw her over his shoulder. Carrying her back to the warm cabin and set her on the ground when they got back. Minho started a fire to get them warmed up while Seungmin pulled her onto his lap, undoing the rope around her wrists. Minho went off and grabbed a new sweater for her to warm up a bit more. Y/n thanked them after Seungmin got the material on her. Y/n curled into him as he checked for any marks on her wrists from the rope. Minho massaged her legs as the fire warmed them up from the cold.

❄︎ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

❄︎ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[bigoverstuffedteddybear]

Dinner With My Family

Mutual gaining / clothes bursting / weight gain / I’m the pov in this

We arrive at the restaurant first— it was your plan, you’d been hungry for the past hour despite leaving plenty of snack packets littering the car. The shirt we’d managed to collectively squeeze you into was already looking snug on your bulging belly, the same with those jeans you were wearing. So tight around your thick thighs— your belly halved by the high waistband that’s struggling to hold everything back. You look so positively fat— I just want to stuff you so much that you burst out of those clothes, or maybe grab and play with your belly. But I don’t, I manage to bite my lip as you waddle off towards the bar for a drink and a starter.

To be fair to us, I’m not that different from you. Admittedly, you were supposed to be the feeder but you got too caught up in what were the fattiest treats that you soon surpassed me in weight. That didn’t stop you though, even under all that lard, you were still the more dominant one. At home, you’d take great joy in pinning me down and shoving treat after treat into my starving mouth, it’s a weird feeling to bloat whilst trapped under blubber like yours but it’s so so fucking hot.

Unlike you, I’d managed to find something that still fit my plumpening body but still, handfuls of fat managed to escape. I keep tugging my knighted jumper down, knowing that with every breath and step, it’s just going to keep riding back up and over my big belly.

“Teddy? Oh my… you look well!”

The voice catches me off guard and I spin slightly trying to spot whoever it was, feeling my fat sway and ripple with the movement. It was my mother, the one who you’d smirked at when you first met her(you said something about how you’d make me so much bigger than her), looking slimmer than the last time I saw her. Blood rushes to my chubby cheeks as I stammer out a reply, “I am! Thanks! You too—” She pulls me into a hug and I can feel my flabby belly moulding to her slimming frame. “He’s just at the bar getting a drink, we managed to get here first for once.” I laugh and feel my body jiggle with the exertion.

“Oh hey!! What took you guys so long?” It took me a second to realise that you were talking with food in your mouth again, you amble over, thick and hanging belly swaying with every step. It was obvious you’d been eating, whatever it was had left sauce smeared around your plump lips. I had to try and not to laugh at how piggish you’d gotten since you’d gained weight, although I should’ve, I would’ve gotten such a great stuffing out of it later.

We manage to make it through the hellos without too much fuss, my parents awkwardly making eye contact with each other after sizing us up. It had only been a few weeks since we’d last seen them but with the way you’d gained weight, it’s impossible to track how much you’d grown.

“So, work treating you well?” My dad asks you over our mains, we’d each had a sharer platter each(even I can’t deny stuffing myself silly despite being in front of my parents).

“Mhmmm, yeah, really well!! Nice and cushy pay rise recently too—“ Your sentences cut short as you proceed to shove mouthful after mouthful of that fatty burger into your mouth. You’ve become such a boisterous glutton and it makes me feel so proud. You may have overtaken me but you still liked to be the dominant one in the relationship.

“Any improvements on that whole diet thing from last time?” The penny drops. My mother’s gentle tone drifts through the staggered conversation. My eyes dart to you, you’ve stopped mid mouthful.

“Ahhh well… there is actually, managed to get find a delivery service at an affordable price so we can get it sent straight to the house— minimal effort to prep and all that! Work gets busy these days and we hardly have any time to cook from scratch!” I try not to choke on my food as you said that, delivery services my arse— you know full well that we order in every night and it’s only the fattening greasy stuff that you let us eat.

It quietens the conversation though, I think they know we’re not losing weight any time soon. The dinner passes without any more comments on our climbing weights, even after we both managed to eat two desserts each. I started to slow down once I realised how bloated I was getting, my jumper was not staying down and I could feel the breeze tickle my exposed skin as I got more and more stuffed. You, however, didn’t notice and didn’t care how bloated you were getting even after the seams on your jeans began to creak and your buttons became even tauter.

Eventually, we manage to pay and bid my parents goodbye, fully knowing that we would be the topic of conversation for the next few weeks or at least until the next family gathering.

It takes a while for the two of us to waddle back to the car, you most of all with your rounded gut bouncing and rippling like jelly made of rock. But you make it and haul yourself into the passenger seat, seeing how you outgrew the drivers seat at least a month ago and I hardly manage to slide myself in behind the wheel of the car. The car pulls to one side when you sit down, groaning under your weight.

Exhausted, you take a deep breath and when you breath out, everything breaks. The buttons fly open on your shirt and the seams of your jeans finally give way to your bulging fat as your large belly rushes forwards to the glove box, blocking it shut. You laugh and shake the whole car before slapping your gut and making it jiggle. You look over at me, eyeing up my fat body, licking your lips.

“So what’s for supper?”

First attempt at something like this!! Please be nice :)

[soupandsimple]

this video is very much not at all like what I wrote but it was used as the inspo for James and daughter 😌

* James’s reaction to his 3 year old daughter telling him she has a boyfriend (SPOILER ALERT; it’s just a boy who’s her friend)

* see request here

………………

Your daughter started daycare at the beginning of this week. Coincidentally also this week, James had been coming home late from work meaning he missed seeing and talking to her before she got into bed (besides the quick goodnight kiss he did always manage to make it in time for with a little slip into her bedroom just as you’d finish tucking her in). But since today was Friday, you let her stay up a little later to see and be with him for awhile.

It’s a little before eight when he gets home and the smile on his face when he sees his little girl is still up and about is a special one. After greeting you both, you let him get changed then serve him his dinner plate and set out a bowl of raspberries for your daughter to snack on to keep James company at the table.

“M’daddy guess what,” your daughter speaks as you help her climb up on the cushiony booster seat in her chair.

“What doll?” James replies promptly, hungrily gathering some food on his fork.

“I have a boyfend.”

The forkful of food is just centimeters away from James’s open mouth but all his movements freeze in that second.

Arching your brows, you smile to yourself as you go to the kitchen area to put away some dishes that had been sitting in the drying rack.

“Excuse me? Can you repeat that?” James urges, voice full of hope that he had heard wrong.

“I have a boyfend!” your daughter repeats happily, popping a berry into her little mouth.

“Oh n-n-n-no,” James says, setting down his fork with a forced chuckle of disbelief, “you are three years old, you cannot have a boyfriend at three years old.”

“Uh-huh I do, hims names Matthew!”

“Matthew?”

“Yes! He’s pwetty!” she claims with a big ol’ smile.

“Hey, hey, hey missy, this isn’t girl talk hour. I don’t care how pretty this Matthew kid is, you are not supposed to have a boyfriend!”

“Him hold my hand” she adds, blissfully ignoring everything James had just said. “And him gives me grapes and him sits by me on the listening carpet.”

“Oh no baby, no” he mumbles as he hits his hands against his face, shaking his head. “C’mon, that’s bare minimum!” he says, sliding his hands back off his face. “And he didn’t even give it time, it’s been what? One week? Don’t tell me he became your boyfriend on the first day of class?!”

Very much not interested in the conversation anymore, your daughter nonchalantly nods as she munches down on another berry and intriguingly observes how the juice from it spills to her hands.

“Wha- are you hearing this?” James astonishingly asks you, whipping his head over in your direction.

“Yes I’m listening. Are you?” you tease as you continue putting away dishes.

Now, the reason you weren’t reacting to your daughter’s claims was because earlier that week at one of the pickups, your daughter had joyfully ran up to you at the door upon arrival and announced to you that she had a boyfriend! After telling you all about the hand holding, fruit sharing and carpet sitting with Matthew, the daycare teacher monitoring the pickups cleared it all up for you.

For starters, the hand holding was only allowed when they walked from building A to building C for gym class and since your daughter and Matthew were next to each other alphabetically on the class sheet, they were paired together for that. Same went for the listening carpet where they were sat in an alphabetical order seating chart. As for the fruit sharing, it was something this Mathew kid did with any and all of his classmates apparently.

So did your daughter have a boy friend ? Yes.

A boyfriend ? No.

The fact that James automatically heard the term boy-friend and paired it with the amorous meaning was no one’s fault but his own. You’d explain it all to him later of course but for now, it was fun seeing him helpless while your daughter remained oblivious and frankly unbothered as to why her dad was freaking out over her having a boy as a friend. <3

[littleredwing89]

SPLASH OF COLOUR

SPLASH OF COLOUR

CEO!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings – Language. NSFW Smut. Fluff.

A/N: This is another one shot following the series ‘PRINCE OF GOTHAM’. It follows on from where they left off last time - another epilogue of sorts. This is a re-write of another Intern series one shot but remoulded for Jason x Reader xoxo

----

Standing in the middle of the now empty room, Jason looked around. You’d covered the floor perfectly with plastic sheeting and masking taped it down. You’d even taped around the light switches, conscious to not get any paint on the chrome fittings. He smiled to himself, before settling his eyes on you. Your hair was tied up in a messy bun, strands falling down into your eyes. You kept tucking them behind your ears as you assessed the tins of paint in front of you.

You were wearing one of his old shirts, it drowned your frame. The sleeves were rolled up to your elbows as you hummed, one hand resting on your hip. He thought you looked beautiful. Even when you weren’t trying. Sure, the figure hugging gala dresses made his blood rage but this - this was different. You were in his clothes. Just you and him. A picture of domestic bliss. Preparing to redecorate your bedroom.

He strode across to you, resting a hand on your lower back. You glanced up at him, offering a bright smile. He’d changed into a pair of old black sweatpants and a simple white T-shirt. You bobbed down slowly and carefully prized the lid off the first tin of paint. The rich, clean scent wafting into your nostrils. You loved the smell of fresh paint.

Grabbing the mixing stick, you dipped it into the can, swirling the light grey paint in circles just like the instructions said, “Will you grab the brushes please?”.

Ripping open the selection of paint brushes, Jason took one out, handing it across to you, “I don’t know why I let you convince me that this would be a good idea, I should have just paid someone”.

You laughed, taking the brush off him, purposely letting your fingers stroke his, “Oh c'mon, just because you suck at painting doesn't mean it's not fun!”.

“I have no issue with my decorating skill princess, I just could think of better things to do”.

Painting a test line on the wall in front of you, you grinned and turned to face him, “Such as?”.

Jason eyed the loose shirt, licking his lips slowly, “You for starters”.

Rolling your eyes you laughed, continuing to paint the wall, pleased with the colour you’d chosen, “Mmmmmm yes, I'll take that into consideration”.

Ignoring your words, Jason started to close in on you, his large hands grasping your waist.

“Ah!-ah!-ah!”, you turned swiftly, jabbing him in the chest with your paint brush, grey paint splattering on his white T-shirt, “No! Painting first, sex later. I want this finished by the end of the week”.

He pressed further into you, causing the brush to bend between you both, paint flicking over your bottom halves, “We could just get someone to do it for us and spend our time in a hotel…productively”.

“Jason…”, The familiar spark shot up your spine and you shivered. He knew exactly how to press your buttons. You swallowed the moan and shook your head, “Unlike you, I'm enjoying painting”.

Jason grunted and looked at the wall venomously, “You are literally watching paint dry, how is that entertaining?”.

“I’m redecorating our bedroom! Think how good it’ll look once we’re done…think how good we’ll feel once we finish it together…it’s exciting!”, 

“There are far more exciting things we could do”, he growled, leaning his head down and nipping the junction of your exposed neck. He loved it when you wore your hair up. It gave him much easier access to finding that sensitive spot just below your earlobe.

“Keep your pants on!”, you gasped and tried to push him away, feeling your body burning for his touch.

You could hear the smirk in his voice as he replied, his hot breath tickling your flesh, “You don’t usually complain princess”.

Trying to distract yourself from his dizzying touch, you moved out of his reach and painted another strip along the wall, taking in long calming breaths, “If you paint too this will go faster”.

“It'll be even faster if we hire someone”, he stepped back into your space, hands looping around your midsection. His fingers sneaked into the gaps between the buttons, aching to feel his skin on yours.

“I don't care!”, you turned in his arms, giving him an innocent smile. A devilish glow sparkled behind your shiny orbs.

He frowned not trusting you but before he could reply you booped his nose with your brush and got paint all over it.

You giggled cheekily and grinned, “See even you look better with a fresh coat of paint”.

Jason growled playfully and grabbed your waist tighter dragging you into his broad chest. He nudged his nose against yours and kissed you softly, smearing the paint across your cheeks. You sank into the kiss without a second thought, hands fisting in his T-shirt.

He pulled back and smirked, admiring the paint dusting your cheeks and the bridge of your delicate nose, “I think it suits you better”.

“Stop being corny and help me paint”, you tried to sound threatening but the airy tone of your voice and the daze in your eye gave you away.

“I have a much better idea”, Jason lifted you up in his arms with no warning, making you gasp in surprise. Your legs wrapped around his middle on their own accord, hands gripping his biceps, feeling them flex under your hold. You let him guide you both to the floor easily, caging you underneath him.

“Jay…we need to paint…”, you murmured. The heat radiating off his body made you bite down on your bottom lip. Your pulse raced with anticipation.

Dipping his fingers into the open paint can besides you both, he grinned down at you, “You never said what we need to paint”.

Without another word, he kissed you passionately, hands sliding up the sides of your shirt, drawing paint over your body. You mewled against his lips and shivered, feeling the cool, thick liquid decorating your body. His fingers traced over your stomach, almost although he was writing something on you.

Jason pulled back from your tempting lips, eyes hooded with desire, “I’m not hearing any complaints”.

“That’s meant for the wall”, you murmured softly, feeling his deft fingers popping open the buttons on the front of your shirt one by one. Exposing your flesh to the cool air of the room.

“Doesn't say that on the can”, he teased, the tips of his fingers still drawing outlines on your bare stomach. You looked down between your bodies to see he’d drawn a J & T across you. The bottom of the T sneaking close to the top of your panties. He gave you a smug wink when you realised what he’d drawn.

You dipped your own hand into the can, feeling the droplets racing down into your palm, “Let’s see how you like it!”, you pushed your hands under his T-shirt and rubbed them all over his chest, smearing the paint happily.

He shivered at the sensation of your soft hands rubbing the cold substance into his skin. He growled deep in his throat before smashing his lips to your, streaking his fingers down the outside of your thighs. Three grey stripes of paint smudged down your skin, fading towards the ends as Jason ran out of paint. You moaned into the kiss, letting him happily swallow the sounds of pleasure, tongues sliding together desperately.

“I-I don’t think we can keep painting”, he panted, his lips travelling down the column of your throat, tongue licking over your throbbing pulse.

“W-whose fault is that?”, you gasped when you felt Jason sink his teeth into your shoulder, letting his tongue stroke over the mark. Soothing it with the heat of his mouth.

“Yours clearly”, he grunted, slipping your lace panties down your legs.

You ripped the shirt over his head the second he slid back up your body, “How do you work that out?”.

“You clearly dressed like this to seduce me”.

He smirked and lifted you up slightly, roughly ripping the baggy shirt from your body, leaving you bare underneath him. He cock swelled at the sight and he groaned huskily. 

You ripped the tie open on his sweatpants, pushing them down slowly, his cock springing free. Licking your lips, your hand wrapped around his length, pumping it leisurely, “Yes, I dressed in your old shirt just to seduce you”.

He grunted and thrust into your hand, the subtle pressure of your palm squeezing his cock made his mind blank. Any witty reply lost in a hurricane of desire. Jason grabbed your wrist quickly, stopping your movements and flipped you over easily. He manhandled you onto your knees, pinning your hands down to the floor, restricting any escape from him. You whined his name, pushing back against him, desperate to feel his cock.

Looking down at your lush ass, he groaned, palming it roughly with his free hand. You whimpered, shuddering with pleasure. He let go of your hands, happy you wouldn’t move and stroked his shaft through your slick folds.

“Fuck…”, he thrust into you rapidly, burying himself to the hilt, cursing more as your velvet walls stretched to accommodate his length, “I can’t get over how good you feel, princess”.

The delicious sting as his thick cock drove into you made your thighs quiver under him, struggling to hold yourself up with the pleasure shooting up your spine. You sobbed his name as he hammered into you harder. Every stroke of his cock bumped your g spot, dragging against your sensitive walls, making your nerves buzz with euphoria.

“Jason! Oh!”, you cried, fingernails digging into the plastic sheeting below you, “Please-I-I-fuck!”.

You knew your incoherent jargon of words would boost his ego, knowing exactly what he did to you. How he set your entire being on fire. 

His fingers dug deeper into your waist, bruising you as his. He leaned forward, dragging hot, wet kisses up your spine before settling against your neck. He panted into your ear, murmuring soft praises about how good you felt. How well you took his cock. How perfect you sounded crying out for him.

Your orgasm ripped through you without any warning, your core clenching around his pulsating shaft. The primal moan leaving his lips was sinful as your pussy tried to drag his cock deeper into you. 

Jason felt your slick coating his cock as he continued to fuck into you with a brutal pace. He slipped into his own climax, releasing ribbon after ribbon of hot cum, deep into your pussy. His chest heaved, desperate for more oxygen. You purred contentedly, eyes shut in bliss. As he pulled himself from you, he watched his seed drip from your folds, sticky on your inner thighs.

He bit hard on his bottom lip, refraining himself from ravishing you again. He laid down on the plastic sheeting, feeling the material stick to his sweaty back. He grimaced but pulled you round onto his chest. The warmth of your body made him relax instantly, ignoring the uncomfortable squeaky vinyl.

You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, face pressing to his chest, paint dried over your beautiful face. He smiled to himself at how cute you looked, fucked out but covered in paint.

----

Jason pressed his forehead to yours and lightly grazed his lips over your mouth. He nudged your nose with his, a faint smile wrinkling his eyes. You sighed happily and returned the gesture, eyes glittering with bliss.

You cupped his face stroking your thumb over his cheek and scoffed when you noticed the paint covering your fingers and palm, “You got paint all over my ring”.

He grinned and put his hand over yours, the matching platinum band greeting yours own.

“Worth it”, he looked down between your messy, paint covered bodies. The grey ‘JT’ smudged over your stomach.

“Those rings were expensive”.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it cleaned up for you princess”, he smirked before laying another kiss to your lips.

You nipped his bottom lip, tugging it lightly, “You better Todd”.

His eyes sparkled with mischief along with something else. Something a little deeper.

“Oh I will, Todd”.

----------

ADDITIONAL CHAPTER BONUS:

Following Jason down the corridors of The Iceberg, you smiled at several new staff members who’d started only last week in your department. They’d stiffened at the sight of the CEO but relaxed when you gave them a warm, friendly smile. You’d just finished a board meeting with the other executives and Jason had said he wanted to speak with you in his office. Another new contract. You wondered if it was actually true or if your new pencil skirt had fried his brain.

“I need you to email this to Wilson”, Jason handed you the paperwork as casually as possible, not meeting your questioning gaze. Eyebrows peaked upwards.

“Why can’t Mr Harper do it?”, you took the paperwork off him, flicking through the pages of the contract. It was just a simple security sign off.

“Because”, Jason clicked his tongue, “I asked you too”. He smirked cheekily and closed the door to his office behind him, eyeing you closely.

You laughed and rolled your eyes, “You’re so petty”.

He scoffed, sounding somewhat offended, “Why would I be petty?”, he grabbed his mug of coffee off the desk taking a large swig of it, “More to the point, when have I ever been petty?”.

You didn’t dignify him with an answer. You didn’t have the time nor the patience to list all the instances of his pettiness. Plus you knew he’d deny every last one of them. You rounded his desk and smiled coyly, “I know why you want me to send it Jay, you know my email is now signed with my new surname…”.

You jabbed your finger into his chest playfully.

“Last time I checked, motive doesn't matter”, Jason’s rugged voice carried through the air, victory lighting up his features. He grabbed your hand quickly and gave you a genuine smile. One reserved only for you. You returned the gesture, locking your fingers with his, entwining them together.

“You'll do it for me, won't you?”, voice thick with charm and honey, Jason gazed down at you. His brown eyes gleaming.

“Only because I won't hear the end of it if I don't”.

Jason kissed your ring and grinned, “You’re a real sweetheart”.

----

[intoxfolklorex]

open to muses 25+ (could be any kind of connection but males only for anything that is or would likely go romantic. please read my rules and her bio before replying. please do not like my starters. post apocalypse au.)

Twenty years since the world had ended and though it was pretty much all Primrose knew, it had been hell. Her parents gone by the end of week one and she had been on her own, a small child just trying to make it. Locked away in one of the schools until ten years later when she'd met them, and they'd been travelling companions ever since. They'd never been safe, probably never would be again and that was why she was always on edge. But she trusted them, the only person she trusted. The only person who called her Prim or family.

Even when they'd found this place. A group of settlers who seemed to have everything the old world had. They'd welcomed the pair in and even given them a place to stay, a hot shower, clean clothes. All things that she had definitely missed. "I'm just saying this feels off," She found herself saying to her companion as she adjusted the new shirt. It felt so good against her skin, it was the little luxuries nowadays. "Why did they just let us in? Are they going to kill us in our sleep?"

[boyneptunee]

paint your eyes with sunsets on AO3

4,590 words.

tomarry modern!AU where they adopt a cat. (the cat adopts them?)

There was an orange cat in front of his door.

There shouldn't be a cat in front of his door.

Tom had been bringing boxes left and right, adding the finishing touches to his apartment after the movers had brought his furniture in and unpacked everything for him. He had a few things left in boxes in Abraxas' home, where he had been staying for the past two weeks, waiting for the papers of his new place to be in order and for the cleaners to come in and get everything ready for him.

And now, there was a cat at his door.

It didn't meow at him, didn't scream and definitely didn't purr. It simply sat there, it's big round face open and piercing yellow eyes staring at his soul, seemly deciding whether or not he was worth it's time.

"Well? Shoo." The cat simply kept looking at him, not moving an inch. He needed to finish unpacking before he could fall face first to his bed. Merlin, he was tired. "Go on, I need to get in." He motioned with his foot, his hands still occupied with a pile of boxes.

The cat's whiskers twitched, but otherwise gave no indication that it had heard him.

Just as he was considering the possibilities of yanking the cat out the building by it's scruff, a door at his right opened and a head full of curls poked out.

"Snuffles! Did you get out?" The cat perked up, thrilling at the new person as it bounced to his neighbour's door, tail up and the tip swinging from side to side. "Hello again, my love" the boy crouched down, long fingers scratching the massive cat's head.

Seemly not taking notice of Tom, he turned around and was about to slam his door shut after the cat went into his apartment.

"Is that yours?" He spat.

"Oh? Hey." The boy turned, confused.

Tom didn't respond, simply bore his eyes into his face. The curly haired boy seemed to take in his words, and his face scrunched, indignant.

"Hey! It's not a that! It's a cat. A very lovely cat!"

"Keep the cat in your apartment, then. I don't need it's filthy paws getting into my things."

The boy ran his eyes up and down his body, eyebrows furrowed before bringing a hand up his face to fix his golden wired round glasses.

"You don't live here." He stated, voice accusing.

"Now I do."

"Oh. Welcome, I guess. Please be kind to Mr. Snuffles." And with that he went back to his apartment and closed his door firmly behind him.

Tom stood stunned in his own doorway, boxes still in his hands.

He would definitely have words with the administration.

 

A few days after moving in, he got added to a group chat.

The group's icon is a picture of the orange cat, eyes closed and basking in the sun. A yellow flower had been laid on top of it's head.

Surely, that boy–

His phone pinged with a new notification.

7B: Morning! I leave early today. Anyone on parenting duty?

Tom took one look at the text and assumed the person had confused groups.

Minutes later came a reply.

12C: we in!! 

12C: send him to 12

7B: Going!

A door down the hall from his apartment opened and closed, before Tom heard the familiar sound of the elevator moving.

Just what was going on?

12C: he has arrived!!

12C: have a good day Mrs McGonagall!!

The text was followed by a picture.

A picture of the cat. 

The orange cat, sitting in a blue couch and looking out a window. To be more exact, out of the twelve floor window.

What the hell.

It wouldn't be the last time the cat made an appearance in his life.

There were daily pictures on the group chat, for starters.

There was even a feeding chart on the room off the lobby with a white board and the days of the week written down, along with three ticks to signify the three meals a day. If someone fed the cat, they ticked off so he wouldn't be fed twice on accident.

There was colective money set apart by the administration for extraordinary costs, like the elevator breaking down, or the replacement of a cracked window, or new chairs for the lobby, or the expensive purple treats in the front desk, the towering cat scratch post or even the cat tower, the round little bed by the couch on the lobby that wasn't used or the bag of dry food on the janitors closet or the cans upon cans of wet food. Oh! And the meds.

Because the cat had asthma.

And he needed his inhaler at least twice a day, everyday for the rest of his life.

It was a juggle trying to get the local cat his meds so regularly when he had no owner.

So, it'd seem the residents had decided early on to leave his medication on one apartment only and give the responsibility to one person.

His neighbour.

Harry Potter, of 7A.

So, no matter where the orange monstrosity was, twice a day he either was brought to the seventh floor to Harry, or Harry himself went out to hunt him down for his daily puffs.

It was the end of his second week after moving in, when he was stopped on his way up.

"Hey! Hey, 7C! Hold the doors!" By the time he registered the voice was talking to him, the boy had already ran all the way from the entrence lobby and into the elevator. It was his neighbour. The curly haired one, not the old woman down the hall.

His hair was braided, Tom noted.

"Thanks." He said, even though Tom hadn't even lifted a finger to help. "Hey, do you like spinach?" He asked as they made their way down the hall to their respective apartments.

He didn't answer.

 

Two days later someone rang his doorbell approximately seven times before he could yank the door open, hair still dripping wet from the shower.

"Hi! I have lasagna." The boy said as a way of greeting, manners be dammed. He pushed the casserole into his hands before disappearing into his apartment. His cheeks had been a lovely shade of pink.

 

The next day, it was Tom who was ringing his neighbour's doorbell. Casserole in one hand, cat in the other.

"Hello, lasagna. I have your cat." He dropped both off by the confused looking boy before turning on the spot and disappearing behind the safety of his own walls.

He had been stopped on his way in by an eldery woman he assumed might be the other resident in the seventh floor but could not be sure. She had said that since he was already going up, he should bring the cat in for his daily medication.

Before he knew it, and before he could do anything to stop it he was adopted.

Picked right out of the crowd by some odd twenty people and promptly passed from hand to hand before going back to 7A. 

He was given treats, and gifts, and quality time.

And when he needed time alone when he got too overwhelmed or murderous they let him be, but were never far.

The old lady at 7B had a cat of her own he could sit with, while she chatted about her research papers on the laws of physics which she had put off for so long and finally, after retiring had time to delve herself into. He didn't much understand physics but he could understand the need to scratch an itch of interest.

The family up 12 drove him crazy. It was a whole floor taken up by redheads, all in different shades of orange. All freakled and kind and warm and the mom had a thing for giving him piles of knitted cloths. As if he didn't have enough already.

In the first floor, was the apartment he hated the most. A man with long greasy hair and a crooked nose looked down at him every time he walked by, instead of taking the elevator. The odor coming from the creaks between the door and the wall were dreadful.

In the same floor a man with a long white beard and twinkling eyes sagely kept his old crinkled hands to himself.

The boy in the seventh floor had no such reservations.

He kept bringing him food, even though he had his own. Kept giving him gifts, even though he didn't need them. He pet him, held him, sat with him. 

Tom was dismayed.

The fifth time Tom appeared by his desk with a prepared, homemade meal in hand Abraxas and Orion had sat him down and interrogated him.

"Why didn't you tell us you were dating someone?"

"I'm not dating."

"–you come in, every single day with a delicious looking homemade meals in cute tupperware–"

"I'm not dating anyone, Abraxas."

"–and little handrawn notes of orange cats, and really! Tom, how could you we've knowing each other since we were eleven, do you now value our relationship–"

"Are you jealous?" Tom finally cut in, expression bored as he dug into the food. It was really good. Homemade sfihas today, with rice to the side and cut fruits for snacks. Harry was a saint sent from heaven, Tom thought.

He looked at Abraxas lunch, a pre-prepared meal from down the street, reheated in the offices microwave, all soggy and sad looking with dry vegetables and over salted meat. No dessert.

Did he say saint? Harry was an angel.

Living with a cat, coparenting with 20 other people notwithstanding, was a new experience for Tom.

His one and only pet had been a snake, and reptiles were nothing like warm blooded mammals.

He needed pets for no longer than twelve minutes, he mostly ate wet food and he had constant vet visits. He hated his nails being trimmed and he adored Harry with all his cat heart.

On that they were in agreement.

Harry, much like the cat Mr Snuffles, had carved a place in his heart were previously there was none.

From receiving meals to spending time together to coparenting an orange lazy huge cat, they went from seeing each other every other day to reuniting every single night in Harry's apartment to give Mr Snuffles his medicine and eat dinner.

 

Tom had never had a rutine as healthy as this one he could follow. His life had always revolved around work, and his studies, and being the absolute best at everything he did, always coming out on top.

He could get used to this.

He took to buying Harry things. He had more than enough money to spare, what with being a successful lawyer.

Did he say his favourite mug broke? Tom would buy him ten more. His dining table was wobbly? There was a new, better one coming. His mattress was too hard and he couldn't get any sleep as of late? Well, guess what, he got a whole new bed. The drawers of his dresser kept getting stuck? Oh! There was a dark green antique that really matched Harry's pretty green eyes in the store, who would have known!

Sadly, buying Harry things had extended to buying Mr Snuffles his toys, cat bed, new cute jumpers and most importantly: his meds.

All it had taken for Tom to cave in had been the sad eyes of two boys, one pair green and one pair yellow and Tom had ordered more than enough to last them the whole year.

 

When arriving from work well past midnight one day, he found at least five people arguing in the hallway by the elevators.

Tom's tired brain could not pick the topic of the discussion for the life of him. A headache had been steadily making it's way around and behind his eyes.

He called for the elevator, eyes closed as he leaned on the wall, the arguing not letting up.

A hand landed on his arm, touch gentle. When he opened his eyes he found big green orbs gazing worriedly at him from beneath long black lashes.

"Long day?" Tom simply nodded, english language going out the window. Harry nodded back, and by the time the elevator arrived Tom had leaned back into the wall, a hand still on his arm. The voices bouncing around the hallway were making his head pound worse.

The boy guided him into the elevator and quietly pressed the button to the seventh floor.

He was moved from side to side before a door was opened and a hand pushed him into a dark apartment, the only light coming from a lamp in the corner of the room. He was prompted to sit on a couch.

He tilted his head back as he rubbed his eyes. God, it was possibly the worst migraine he'd had in years.

A couple seconds later a cold wet towel was pressed to his face, and a heavy warm weight was dropped on his lap.

"Do you take anything?" Harry asked lowly, and even thought he was trying to be gentle his voice still rattled around Tom's brain as if he had shouted the question right in his ears. When he didn't answer, a hand landed on his thigh. "Tom?"

"Yes." He croaked. Right, the meds. But for the life of him he wouldn't be able to walk now that he'd sat down. He didn't know how he'd made the ride home from work. Maybe he was still sat in his car. Maybe he was hallucinating.

A hand reached into his suit pocket, where he kept his keys.

"Bedroom." Was all he could muster, but it seemed to be enough for Harry, who was out the door in a flash.

Loud purring started somewhere around his belly, and it took him a while before realizing it was not coming from him.

When he could peal one eye open and peer down at his lap, he found Mr Snuffles comfortably loafing on him, paws perfectly tucked beneath it's body and purring it's little heart out.

The purring was his only company.

Agonizing minutes went by, before Harry burst into the room with his tablets in hand.

He took them dry and prayed it would be enough to at least subside the pounding behind his eyes.

What seemed to be an eternity later, he could feel the pain receding. When he could open his eyes without piercing needles flying from the inside out, he found Harry crouched between his legs, long fingers petting Mr Snuffles.

"Harry." His own voice sounded hoarse to his ears. Just how long had Harry been waiting for his headache to pass?

"Hey" his smile was small, gentle on his face. His eyes were still big and worried "feeling better?" Tom hummed, "Do you wanna lay down? I'll make something to eat." At Tom's raised eyebrows, he added "Don't look at me like that, I'm a hundred percent sure you haven't eaten dinner. I'll make something light, I promise."

"Laying down sounds good."

"Good."

And before he could tilt sideways onto the couch, his arms were grabbed as he was helped to his feet. He couldn't even process the entire situation before he fell face first into Harry's bed.

He was out like a light, not even processing the familiar warm eight settling on his back and the little motor starting up once again.

What seemed to be not enough time later, Harry woke him up.

"You have to eat, love. And Mr Snuffles needs his meds too." When Tom groaned and made no move to get up, he insisted. "C'mon, just a couple of bites. I promise I'll let you sleep as long as you want afterwards."

The weight at his back was removed, and he was helped to a sitting position by the headboard before a tray full of food was placed on his lap.

"I'm taking Snuffles up to eleven, I'm pretty sure they have his inhaler."

"Isn't it late?"

"Yeah, but someone decided it would be a good idea to post on the group chat– didn't you hear all the fighting on the lobby?" At Tom's blank face, Harry nodded in understanding. "Well, anyway, we didn't get anything resolved. I just took the cat and Mr Snuffles and here we are." 

It took a couple of seconds for the words to sink in.

Tom's blue eyes bore into Harry's mischievous green ones.

"Don't look murderous. Eat, I cooked for you." And with that, he hugged the cat close to his body before going out the door to hunt down Mr Snuffles' inhalers.

Tom looked down to the food in front of him. Suddenly he was ravenous.

 

Harry wouldn't let him leave, after. 

First, going on about, what if Tom got another migraine and he couldn't get up to eat or even open the door and– and when Tom's blank face was his only answer, he changed tactics.

Harry would be so, so worried! He simply wouldn't be able to sleep out of worry! All night, tossing and turning, his little heart racing and his stomach clamping in anxiety, green lovely eyes filling with tears, just thinking about–

 

It was possibly the best sleep he got in years. Harry laying at his side, warm body chasing out the cold. Both of them snuggled beneath a pile of comfortable heavy blankets, and Mr Snuffles settled between their heads by the pillows.

The migraine didn't come back.

"My coworkers think we are dating." He said conversationally one night while they were having dinner.

"Your friends, Tom. You've known each other since you were little sprouts."

A beat passed between them, the sound of cutlery against the ceramic their only companion.

"Dating!?" Harry's face turned a lovely shade of pink, green eyes wide behind his glasses. "I mean–"

"Objectively speaking it would be a wise move. We already share much of our time together,"

Harry made a sound at the back of his throat, face turning imposibly redder.

"–and Snuffles gets the responsibility of two working parents–"

"You say it like there aren't at least ten other families in this building at his beck and call–"

"–and of course, there will be always someone in case he has a breathing emergency–"

"Again, really! A whole building –"

"It would please me to know you accept this proposal." Tom finally said.

"I'm sorry, were you asking?" 

"I was stating points, in which–" before he could finish he was interrupted, yet again.

"Ask." His eyes this time were sure, face still flushed but meeting him dead on. "Ask me, Tom Riddle."

"Would you date me?"

The smile he got in response could possibly cure all maladies.

Mr Snuffles took offence to them sharing a bed.

Most importantly, he took issue with Tom being in Harry's bed.

Since Harry was in charge of his inhaler, and with him needing one puff in the morning and one at night, he more often than not slept in his apartment.

The first night Tom had tried sleeping over, he had been attacked, scratched and bitten, meowed at and had it been physically possible, possibly spat at too.

Harry had laughed so hard he had fallen off the bed.

"Maybe it's best we send him down the hall. I'm sure McGonagall will have no issue having him over."

"You're not kicking the cat out just so we can have sex!"

"Are you putting the cat before me?"

"He was here first."

"He's not the one who's going to eat you out until you cry." 

"I'm not tossing the cat out, Tom. Maybe you two should try to get along."

Alas, nothing Tom said could convince Harry otherwise.

It was going to be the death of him. Death by blue balls, cockblocked by a cat.

 

The thing is, Tom did get along with the cat.

He took no issue with petting, feeding, carrying, playing or helping him catch bugs. In every other situation the cat seemed to love Tom, only ditching him for the clearly superior human that was Harry, when he was in close proximity.

To say that Tom was confused by the cat's behavior would be an understatement.

Until Harry got trapped in the elevator.

 

There was a power outage caused by the storm raging outside.

Tom had heard the banging completely on accident. He was bringing Mr Snuffles down to McGonagall's apartment, who had his emergency medication on hand when Harry wasn't home.

The banging was loud and clear, and coming from the metal doors down the hallway.

Tom did mental calculations. The power had been out for at least an hour.

He hurried down the hall, cat still in his grip, flashlight in the other.

When he was finally by the doors he could hear the muffled breathing on the other side, panicked and short and wet, as if the person had been crying.

"Hello?"

The banging suddenly stopped, the only sound coming from the thunder and the rain hitting the sides of the building.

When no audible answer came from inside, he insisted.

"Is anyone there?"

"Tom?" Harry. That was Harry inside the elevator. Harry, who had been there for at least an hour. He dropped the cat. Dropped himself to the ground. "Tom!?"

"I'm here, love. Are you okay?" As he spoke, his mind jumped in at least ten different directions. How to get him out? He hadn't been there long enough to need medical attention, by his count. He would be distressed, no doubt. Would the elevator be stuck mid floor? Was it this floor? Above, below?

"I'm–" the panicked breathing picked up. "Can you get me out?"

"Yes. Yes, darling you need only–"

"It's dark." Harry sobbed out, voice small and scared. It broke something so deep in him, he had to breathe to calm himself. To think logically.

"Harry." He kept his voice steady, and left the flashlight by his side on the ground. "Harry, there should be a little lever on the right side of the doors, bellow all the floor numbers. Do you see it, love?"

There was a hum from the other side, but no spoken answer.

"Push it down, Harry. It should decompress the doors of the inside." 

"Okay. Nothing happened."

"It wasn't supposed to. You'll be able to open the doors now, love. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah."

The sound of metal moving against metal ran in his ears.

"Harry, listen. Is the elevator on this floor? Is it stuck in the middle?"

"I don't know." Came the small reply. Tom's gears slowed to a halt.

"How can you now know? You should be able to see–"

"It's dark." He said again, and it finally dawned on Tom.

He cursed under his breath.

"Okay." He took another deep breath for good measure. "Harry, listen to me."

"Okay?" He was still sniffing lowdly. Tom could imagine the tears running down his face, his small body pushed to one side and sitting all alone in the darkness.

"I need to go to the first floor, to the maintenance room–"

"No, no, nonono–" Harry sobbed out, no air getting in his lungs.

"Harry! Love, my love you need to breathe." No answer. "Harry?"

The cat at his side meowed loudly. Tom started, having forgotten it was there.

"Tom?" the small voice at the other side of the doors asked.

"I'm here. And Mr Snuffles is here too." He paused, considering. "It'll be five minutes love, I promise. I need the key to open the doors from the outside. Snuffles will keep you company.

Moments dragged by, Snuffles still chittering and chatting away at the metal doors. At Harry.

"Okay." And that was all Tom needed before grabbing the flashlight and booking it to the stairs. He didn't think he'd ever ran so fast in his life as he did now. By the time he made it to the maintenance room he hadn't even considered the possibility that it would be closed shut with lock and key. It didn't much matter in the end, as he used the flashlight to break the glass window and open the door from the inside, frantic eyes searching for the correct keys to open the elevator doors.

Once he found them, he ran back the way he came, not even bothering to stop a single moment before making it to their floor, no air in his lungs and thighs burning.

His hands trembled from the lack of oxygen as he tried to insert the key into it's hole.

The cat was still lowdly screaming at Harry, looking at Tom with judgemental eyes, as if wondering what had taken him so long.

When he finally got the doors open, Harry fell on his arms and sobbed so hard he was worried he would pass out.

A couple minutes went by, with Tom rubbing Harry's back, big hands leaving a trail of warmth from the expanse of his shoulder blades down to his hips. Their breathing synchronized, chests pressed together where Harry was sat on top of him, face on the crook of his neck.

Finally, he spoke.

"I wanna go home."

"Okay." He took Harry in his arms, slowly walking them back to 7B. He took his keys out, where he had a copy of Harry's apartment door just in case, and made it inside. Mr Snuffles followed them in, chittering and thrilling.

He wrapped Harry in as many blankets as he would allow, before laying them both on the bed, stacked one on top of the other. When they settled, Mr Snuffles stacked himself on top of them too, purring away.

"I don't like the dark" Harry said, what seemed like hours later. "I don't like small spaces either."

Tom hummed in response, fingers carding through his curls and nails digging lighly in his scalp.

When Harry lifted his head up to look into Tom's blue eyes, he caught his lips with his and kissed him like a man possessed.

He tasted salty, of tears.

The cat purred on.

Someone tried to kick the cat out of the building. Literally.

A girl with fiery red hair had watched on, horrified. She had instantly taken to screaming about it in the building's group chat.

12D: someone tried to kill snuffles

The flood of responses was expected. The private message plotting murder that slid in her dm's was not.

They demanded a physical description, whether or not the person had been standing within view of the security camaras and most importantly: did Ginny know this person? The floor where they lived? What had they done to poor Mr Snuffles?

Ginny feared for their safety.

Good.

The next day a message had been stuck with tape in the mirror of the elevator.

There was a picture of a balding blond old man with a ratty trench coat bent over and hand reaching for the orange cat at the man's feet. Bellow the picture, a message (more than a message, a promise).

'13 A hurt the cat again and I'll smash your head in'

Huh. So they did find out where the man lived.

Ginny posed and took a picture of the paper to send to the group chat, in case no one else had seen it.

When Tom saw the new notification on the group chat, he cast a long glance at his boyfriend. 

Harry had taken the printer out of storage last night.