Reblog If You're A Cuddler.

Reblog if you're a cuddler.

tag team? put me into every position possible? break my back? bruise my hips? spit in my mouth? growl at me? pull my hair? call me a whore? squeeze my throat? queens? please?

i’m so sorry..

Meme of the day

wanna kiss her pouty face 🥺

I'm sorry this is just so fucking cute

@makethatelevenrings

Hmmm..."It's been so long" with Dick Grayson please? Congratulations on reaching 3k!

The warm, buttery rays of sunshine that spilled across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose made sleep more impossible than ever. Dick wondered what time it was. Based on the fact that you weren’t fast asleep next to him, it had to be some time past eight. 

He had stumbled into the apartment around three and found you fast asleep, something he was grateful for. He hated coming home and finding you fighting sleep in an attempt to check if he was injured. Only after promising you repeatedly that he would wake you up if he needed assistance did you start going to bed at a more reasonable time.

The bedroom door was shut, separating him from the rest of the apartment. He could hear Haley’s claws scrabble along the laminate tile floor and you were humming along to some song he couldn’t make out. The speakers were on low, an attempt to make sure he didn’t wake up.

He pushed off the mattress and made his way to the bathroom. The faster he brushed his teeth and did the three step skincare regimen you had got him to do, the faster he could join you.

What he wasn’t expecting to find when he walked out of the bedroom was you cradling Haley in your arms as your dance partner as you caterwauled along to a High School Musical song. Your face lit up at the sight of your partner, but you didn’t stop singing along to Breaking Free. Dick chuckled and leaned against the wall to watch you, his arms crossed over his chest. But you weren’t having it. You leaned down and let Haley wriggle out of your arms before you lunged forward and grabbed Dick’s hands, tugging him into you.

“You are the music in me,” you crooned. Laughter filled his voice as he tried to sing along with Troy’s part. Neither one of you were in the running to get a Grammy, but he didn’t care. All he needed right now was the feel of your hand in his as you dramatically spun into his chest and pressed your back to his chest. You threw your head back once the chorus picked up, your head pillowed on his shoulder.

He gave up trying to follow the lyrics and instead buried his face against the soft fabric of the shirt that covered your shoulder. It was one of his shirts and he appreciated seeing the way it fell across your body, inflaming some latent possessive desire that rested in his soul. Giggles erupted from your lips and your body shook against his as the song faded out and some early 2000s Jonas Brothers kicked in.

“It’s been so long since I heard these songs,” he said. “Do you have a playlist?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. He rested his hands on your waist and swayed back and forth. He relished in the way you sank into his touch and trusted that he would always keep you standing.

“I also have blueberry muffins in the oven,” you added. “Morning, baby.”

“How much longer on those muffins?”

“Twenty-three minutes.”

“Wanna make out on the couch?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely. I’ll even let you touch my ass.”

Dick didn’t mind waking up to an empty bed if this was the result.

Mascs? Mascs.