#thank you ness!!

[hyunpic]

SKZ VLOG: HYUN.E’S HOELIDAY 9

[xisipstea]

Just caught up with the blue lock manga. Im distraught.

[skadoodle-with-extra-ification]

Tango from @watcheraurora's fic: King's Tide!

HIGHLY recommend this fic!!! Honestly WatcherAurora is one of my favorite ranchers writers EVER!!!

Tango's showing off his amazing swimming skills for his pretty human lol wheeee backflips!

[canisalbus]

Initially, I wanted to draw him as a tiny pubby wearing a sock as a bodysuit for Warmth but that was Beyond My Skill Level and thus the compromise

He will be Toasty

.

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

workaholic

a valentines weekend event fic!

tim drake x reader: giving your vigilante boyfriend a surprise under the desk in the batcave. now who’s distracting, hmph!

content level: 18+, NSFW

yeah, he’s a vigilante, or whatever, but he’s also your boyfriend. and he hasn’t acknowledged you in forty-five minutes. you’re not really sure how, considering you’re sharing a desk chair with him, on his lap, but his focus knows no bounds.

you’re down in the batcave with him, and it feels eerie, almost like you’re not supposed to be there, but tim said it was fine.

you wanted to see him, but he had a case to work, so he had you tag along to the cave. he’s still in his suit, but his mask’s long gone, hair disheveled. he brushed you off when you asked if he’d eaten, but that’s your boyfriend.

you’re at the biggest computer you’ve ever seen, a little mind boggled at the way tim’s playing with it like it’s a toy, even though you know it took years of mastering.

he keeps muttering to himself, scribbling in a notebook off to the side. you’re not even sure he’s able to read his own handwriting. you definitely struggle with deciphering it on birthday and anniversary cards.

“tim,” you start, wondering if you could do something, like help (or just get a crumb of attention?)

“hm?” he replies, his eyes glued to a certain security video he’s been replaying, which you could recount beat for beat if asked, he’s looped it so many times.

“need any help?” you ask, playing with a strand of hair, twirling it around your fingers.

he glances at you, smiling but shaking his head.

“i got it, love. just be your pretty self.” he murmurs, patting your thigh.

you contain a sigh, nodding even though he’s not looking at you anymore.

you squirm a little in his lap, feeling a response. if tim was looking at you, he’d see the grin spreading across your face. you rub your ass against his crotch again, and even through the fabric of his super suit you can feel how eagerly he’s reacting to you.

“baby,” he warns, but there’s no real threat in his voice. you start your descent, scooting the chair back little by little using the toe of your shoe. you turn, sliding off of the chair and crouching under the desk.

he barely seems to register that you’re pulling down his pants, his underwear, until his cock’s exposed to the cool air of the cave. it’s semi hard, sending a thrill through your body that even if he wasn’t paying attention to you, his body was.

“i—what? babe, what are you doing?” you watch his thighs tense in time with the muscles of his lower stomach. you want to trace every individual ab muscle with your tongue.

you look up at him slowly, eyes opened wide as you paint the picture of innocence.

“what?” you reply, fighting back a smile.

“what do you mean, what?” tim says through grit teeth, his cock twitching as he grows harder, staring at your full lips.

he watches as you spit into your hand, slowly gliding your saliva up and down his cock. his eyes widen, eyebrows practically hidden in his hair.

“we’re gonna get caught,” he groans out, and you shrug, swiping your thumb across his tip.

“better be quiet then, huh, red robin?” you say, relishing in the way his eyes widen at his hero name.

you’re teasing him, maybe because you’re a little hurt and feeling a little mean, maybe because you like the way he’s got one hand gripping at the chair’s armrest, the other tight against his mouth as he fights down his moans.

he struggles not to buck his hips, pushing his cock farther into your mouth, struggles not to finish too early, feeling like he’s in last night’s wet dream.

but you bring him deeper, your cheeks hollowed as his tip hits the back of your throat. the hand that was covering his mouth flies to the chair’s other arm rest, and he moans out, his eyebrows furrowed.

“tim,” you say, pulling him out of your mouth. he gasps at the way the cold air of the cave feels on his wet cock, jerking in your hand.

“i’ll be quiet, i swear,” he groans, a blush spreading from his neck to his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears.

you know this is killing him, being at your mercy like this, but you’re having too much fun. you’ve got his full undivided attention now, anyways, and why do anything to change that?

you raise an eyebrow at him, doubtful, but smirk as you lower your head again. tapping his tip against your tongue, he whines, and you swirl your tongue around it, pursing your lips as you focus on it specifically.

he’s covering his eyes with his hand, his lips a thin straight line. you sit back again, fucking his cock with your fist. he drops his hand, eyes glued on the way he’s disappearing in your grip.

“shit,” he breathes out, the armrests of the chair creaking under his grip. he’s trying and failing at coming early, feeling like if he even exhales, it’s over.

you carefully lick a bead of pre off his tip, sucking him back into your mouth with an obscene slurping sound that has tim covering his mouth again. you can hear his groans anyways, his hand barely doing anything to muffle the sound.

your head bobs as you follow your hands down to his base and back up, sighing around his cock. you change it up, going fast, slow, pulling him to the brink as he curses under his breath before stopping completely, making him fall apart in your hands.

your other hand trails down to his balls, cradling them carefully with your fingers. the sensation makes his sack tense in your hands, and he gives up holding back his pleasure.

tim’s eyes roll back, closing, and you know you’ve got him.

“‘m gonna—,” he starts, the rest of his sentence turning into whimpering as hot cum shoots into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat.

you swallow the salty fluid, stroking tim even as he shudders. if you weren’t under the batcomputer, you’d keep going, overstimulate him through another round. but instead you stop, pressing a tender kiss to his tip. you tuck him back into his underwear, pulling his suit pants back up, and he settles you back onto his lap.

with a stupid smile on his flushed face, he kisses you. his lips warm as he swipes his tongue across your lip, nowhere to go but farther into each other as his hand presses against the back of your neck.

you eye the security camera on the opposite wall, and tim notices, grimacing.

“i can do something about that.” tim says, bringing up the security footage for the cave.

he quickly types in the date and time, swallowing as he watches the crystal clear video of you slide under the desk, whipping his cock out.

in the batcave.

he can’t believe it. he can’t believe how much he liked it. he wants nothing more than to get you out of here and under him in bed.

you can barely keep up his hands are moving so fast, replacing the damning evidence with earlier footage on a loop.

“why are you typing in your phone number?”

“don’t worry about it, hon,” he replies, his fingers flying as the clip whooshes off of the screen. “s’all taken care of.”

post divider courtesy of: @thecutestgrotto

[themisterhip]

More Lyla sketches wooooo!!!!

[daddy-long-legssss]

you mentioned several months ago about alex wearing his hair slicked back like AM style during the Car tour but I can’ find it anywhere. Do you have any photos/a name of a video with it?

yes, dear anon! it was the september 8th show at forest hills stadium in new york. he put like a pound of gel in his hair. funnily enough, it nearly coincided with the 10th anniversary of the 'am' album (which came out september 9th). so i don't know if this was his way of acknowledging the album's milestone anniversary or he was having a bad hair day and though 'fuck it. let's go for the brylcreem'.

he started the show like this:

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A post shared by @musicjunkiefl

but by the end of the it, he looked like this:

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A post shared by @musicjunkiefl

which i must say i much prefer. and with how much he ruffles and messes up his hair, that gel simply never stood the chance.

[c7arisse]

Erm hi i am a huge Ness fan so if u can Pls draw him!!! I havent seen you draw him yet so id like to see him in ur style thx :D (j’adore ton style artistique!! )

Lend me your power, Shimesekt Patroller!

[yandereunsolved]

I’ve been grinding on roblox dragon adventures (because I’m still on winter break…I miss my anatomy professor he’s so funny) and therefore have had loads of time to think about my favorite Yandere blorbos, so I thought I’d share one of my ideas with you, which is the self aware cast saying more and more outrageous, obviously not the actual dialogue stuff simply because darling isn’t paying attention- because when I grind for games I usually have a YouTube video or series I’ve watched before playing in the background (cause otherwise it’s too silent) but I’m not actually paying attention to them, so I’ve been thinking about the cast just full on arguing in the background about who darling likes more while darling is basically ignoring them for a silly dragon game

-☀️(I can’t tell if this is long or if it’s just because I’m typing this on my phone…I’ve rewatched hotd so much lately, Also I just noticed cause I was passively watching it while doing my genetics project awhile back but like. The hair just doesn’t work?? Like if you look none of the women have children with their hair color unless the father has the same, and I’m so confused on why?? At first I was like “oh, Targaryen hair is probably just recessive” but then like. All of alicent’s babies have it, so?? Does the hotd universe just have sexism in the genetic code??)

The HOTD universe has genetic sexism.

That's a new one.

That is also what I do. Unless I am listening to a cutscene in a game I usually have music or videos on in the background. So like—I see you. That'd be funny asf.

Imagine even further if whatever game you were enthralled in also had self-aware characters. Even if they weren't self-aware the hotd cast would still be jealous. They'd begin to bicker about what to do with you. How are they going to get your attention back on them? This naturally devolves into them having full on screaming matches & fights about who deserves darling more.

(They get quite—passionate.)

It's like a medieval reality show.

Aemond and Aegon punching the shit out of each other.

Alicent: "Those aren't my children."

Rhaenyra (in a booth): "and that was the moment I realized my queer situationship would not be able to take care of our my darling. If she can't even handle her own offspring—how is she going to handle a being from another plane of reality?" hair flip.

[mdshh]

Expecting a little princess 🎀 ྀིྀི

[dailyloweffortpace]

Day 75 + 76 + 77: Costume, Trick, and Treat

(for cogtober by @ftmultislacker)

[awkward-fink]

In times of sickness - Captain John Price

„John, could you lend me a hand over here? I could really use some – John?” You slowly bully your way into the house again, your arms fully laden with grocery bags. Normally your husband would have already materialized at the door at the first sounds of you coming back from the market, would have taken your bags and helped you put them away, but today he wasn’t even at the door, you couldn’t even him walking the old wooden stairs.

Furrowing your brows, you set down the first haul of bags on the kitchen table, which was halfway cleared from breakfast items and the bad feeling in your gut only intensified. Your husband had begged off your Saturday market run, against his very nature, citing tiredness and wanting to go sleep for another hour. But this had been three hours ago.

“John?” You cautiously call up the stairs, but there is no reaction. With hurried steps you go up the stairs and towards your shared bedroom, opening the door and slipping into the darkness right behind. Seems as if your husband didn’t even open the blackout-curtains. It was stifling inside the bedroom, a sweet scent lingering in the air.

And there your husband was, in bed and buried underneath his own and your blanket, forehead sweat slicked and breathing even louder than his normal relaxed snoring. Now you were worried.

“John? Love?” You whisper softly, taking a few steps closer, but your husband doesn’t even move, doesn’t even twitch as your voice reaches his ears. With nearly silent steps and only the light shining through the barely open door, you creep closer to your husband’s bedside, reaching out to put the back of your hand against his forehead. Instantly the heat hits you hard, sweat clinging to your skin as you draw your hand back again. A fever, a high one. Damn.

“Oh Honey…” You murmur under your breath, leaning down to press the gentlest of kisses onto his temple, watching his brows furrow and then relax some. Your husband isn’t sick often, but when he is, its thankfully over in a few days. But those days that he is sick, you prefer to stay in right beside him.

“Don’t worry Love, I am going to take good care of you.”

---------------------------------

Captain John Price doesn’t get sick, never. He has too much to do to become sick, chores and work and house improvements for example.

So no, that man really doesn’t have the time nor the free time capacity to be sick.

But when he does, he is down for good. Thankfully only for a few days, but those days are hard. On him and you.

He won’t move much, doesn’t want to eat much. He doesn’t want to be a burden on you and just wants to sleep and sweat that sickness right out.

He doesn’t like you getting to close in that time, you could get ill and he really doesn’t want you to fall ill as well, he would feel so bad about it

Would much rather you be ill, and he can care about you every second of a day with soft cuddles and self-made soup than he be ill and you doing the same for him

Double standards all the way

Thankfully doesn’t have the man-flu and won’t be dying anytime soon.

Will be back to normal at the latest 4 days after falling into bed like a log, will take a self-indulgent shower (best is with you under the water as well) of at least 15 minutes to feel like a new man again

That man. I swear. This man will hide sickness and illness if he can get away with it.

[nectardaddy]

'88 Ford | Kita Shinsuke

chapter seven | stupid

masterlist

no smau parts in this one, she's long

track seven . . . tourniquet

cw/notes: hurt/comfort (it's zach bryan's fault blame him), shit gets real country too oof, excuse me while I write a self indulgent blurb of how a father should be :'), nostalgic feelings, I proofread to the best of my ability

a very, very, very special shout out: thank you @mollyrolls @causenessus @froyaoya for listening to me talk about this WAY too much and letting me bother tf out of you guys over it. not to get sappy on main but genuinely thank you for all the comments, tags, and loving it as much as I do!!! I am forever in your favor for this

"Because you're important to me." "You're just saying that, Shinsuke. There's nothing important about me at all." "Everything about you is important to me."

Three days ago - without a word since.

The woman sighed as she looked in the mirror, smudged with finger prints and specks of dust. Taking in her reflection with blurry eyes; the image of a woman with black and blue staining her right eye staring back at her. Swelling gone down from a bag of frozen peas, god forbid they had a real ice pack, still left on the kitchen table and forgotten about entirely.

It was stupid. A worker started something, she finished it. They swung first, though being thoroughly provoked, and she ended it. Winding herself up so tight from the conversation days prior, she found herself more standoffish than normal. Constantly thinking about it, never a waking moment without the words "you're important to me" haunting her. Racking her brain so much as to why he stopped talking to her since, her head hurt from the thoughts that pounded her skull.

So, it truly wasn't her fault the skin of her knuckles were bruised and busted, and her eye tender and discolored. It was his - goddamn Kita Shinsuke. At least that's what she told herself, shifting blame because it felt better. Because it ate her alive every glance he still gave her, despite his lack of words; always locking eyes for a fraction a second before he broke it with a nervous air about him.

Anger was easier to swallow than dejection. It was hot and fluid, boiling through shallow veins easily and bubbling over; while sadness was the lack there of, uncomfortable, and made her stomach turn. She'd rather feel the singe of rage than the emptiness of sorrow.

A door slam caught her attention, gaze snapping towards the sound; thoughts ceased as she watched the figure of her father near the bathroom door. Propping herself up by her hands on the sink, she closed her eyes and sighed once more; expecting the inevitable scolding.

"Did they deserve it?" An unexpected question that made her reopen her eyes, seeing him in the doorway with a ghost of a frown.

"Yeah."

"Did you win?"

"Of course I did."

There was a pause. A length that lingered a bit too long, hearing the sink faucet drip water into the old porcelain, until he let out a sigh. Shoving his hands in the pockets of his work jacket, he turned. Stepping away from the bathroom door and into the small hallway; she followed.

"You gonna' tell me what's going on? Or are you gonna' keep skulking around here with a stick up your ass?"

"Rude," rolling her eyes at his words. "Nothing's goin' on." She crossed her arms over her chest, as if to guard herself, to keep the thoughts that wanted to flow out of her locked deep within. Unfortunately for her, he saw right through it. A bad habit of picking up more twang in her words when she lied, always becoming defensive to the point her accent was the focal point of discussion.

"You never were a good liar," he nearly chuckled at the woman in front of him. "You sound like a hick." He added, "so are you gonna' fess up? Or keep pickin' fights with workers?"

"They had it coming." A snarkiness shining through as she huffed out a breath; moving past him in the hallway as to further herself from the conversation. "And pickin' fights sounds pretty fun to me, honestly."

"Yeah? Well it ain't fun seeing my daughter with a black eye." His comment made her falter, stopping mid step just before the quant living area. Another sigh left her lips. It wasn't as if she didn't want to tell her father, it was bringing up the sickly feelings that came along with it. Admitting that it hurt, caused an emptiness, and made her ill to think about it.

"It's stupid."

"It ain't stupid if it has you out here raising hell."

Another pause, and feeling her father's worry made her want to wretch. To heave and slink right back into her skin; feeling all the more worse that she caused him panic in the slightest. She turned back to look at him a moment - she frowned, crumbling right there on the spot. Maybe it was her father's eyes swimming with concern, or maybe she just couldn't keep it in anymore. Which ever it was, she felt her heart fall to the pits of her stomach and she swallowed hard to fight the lump in her throat.

"Shinsuke said I was important to him and now he won't talk to me anymore, dad," voice cracking as she took a step towards him. She watched as his features fell through blurry eyes, and for a moment she believed she said the wrong thing. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she stood in front of him; he sighed.

"C'mere," holding out his arms to which she wholeheartedly obliged. Hugging him like her life depended on it - crying. Haven't shed a single tear in years, refusing to feel such hollow and empty emotions, it poured out of her. Shaking, clinging to her father, as she finally let her emotions swallow her completely.

"I'm in love with him. And I feel so fucking stupid because he doesn't even love me back; he won't even speak to me."

"I remember when he first got here," conflicting the tone of the conversation all together. "I never in my life thought you'd fall for someone so quiet." A seemingly random thought, but he continued all the same. "But then I saw how he looked at you and I realized why you liked him so much."

"What the hell are you talkin' about?"

"Maybe you don't see it, through that black eye and angst you have goin' on, but that boy is in love with you."

"He's not in love with me."

He pulled away from the woman slowly, looking in her eyes with a care that was meant for only her, but a seriousness that was as deadly as a heart attack. Holding her gently by her shoulders, he gave her a sad smile. "I don't like arguin' with you, you give me hell for it every time. But you're wrong."

She stood there a moment, looking at her father through foggy eyes. Features wet and tear stained, a numbing pain singing the right side of her face; irritating her bruised eye further. "Well, if you're so smart, why isn't he talkin' to me?"

He saw the puzzled expression on her face and couldn't help but laugh. "Because men are stupid." A statement he told her often, one she always laughed about, but held onto like a lifeline now. After every fight, every argument, and every failed past relationship; always telling her 'men are stupid. Don't let their stupidity stop you from doing shit.'

"So what should I do about it?" Breath stopped in her throat at the thought of the man actually being in love with her. A sickly sensation swirling in her stomach that didn't feel like the cliché butterflies, it felt like spiders. The feeling slowly caught up to her as her tears leisurely stopped. Eating away at her until she caught herself being frustrated all over again.

"Don't let it stop you from doing shit," he chuckled. "Tell him to stop being stupid."

taglist under cut

@wyrcan @chizunata @seroh @chemiru @froyaoya

@h3xi2g0n3 @localgaytrainwreck @mollyrolls @causenessus @diorzs

@rory-cakes @phoenix-eclipses @pattys-got-cakes @girlkissersco

@jaynawayna @aliensstolemyheart @le000xxgrd @cherrypieyourface @miliondollagirl

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

bite me!

vampire!nightwing x fem!reader

MINORS DNI.

just so you know: contains BLOOD, OBVIOUSLY. also tw: knife, attempted mugging. unprotected sex, a very MINOR praise kink. nightwing is a vampire. that’s all

1500 words, all dedicated to a certain discord channel

it feels like a dream. the warmth of his body weight between your legs as he pushes your back into the mattress, combined with the heady feeling of pain? pleasure? that’s flooding your senses. you know how you got here at least. you know who you are, where you are (in your bed, in your apartment) you know who the mayor is, who’s on top of you (nightwing) but still. something about it feels out of your grasp, your willpower melting into something syrupy that’s no doubt making your blood taste even better, you can only guess. your limbs feel heavy, detached from your body, and you feel your pulse at your neck, where nightwing’s lips are suctioned, his teeth deep in your vein. you’re happy to help him—he helped you, after all.

the cold metal of a blade presses into your neck, and you feel fear. you’re hot, so hot, but chills run up and down your body every time you (barely) exhale (not wanting to move an inch) and you know your hands are cold, clammy. this asshole probably just wants your bag, your wallet, your keys with the charms attached. (and you’d been willing to give it to him too.) but as nightwing hopped down from his perch on the nearest fire escape, you’d been pulled into the thief’s defensive position, a knife at your neck. nightwing, light on his feet like a ballet dancer, had been creeping closer towards you, ever-so-slowly. the man you were being pressed against was getting more frantic, you could feel it, and nightwing made his maneuver: getting his stick into the crook of the man’s knife holding elbow, yanking his arm away from you. in the process, the blade broke skin, and you felt the warmth of your blood start to ooze down your neck. you slap a hand to it, hurriedly pawing through your bag for a handkerchief. you’re aware of nightwing fighting the crook, the muffled sounds of their scuffle registering in your ears. metal on metal clangs as his knife is knocked to the concrete, and you hear nightwing mutter directions to his location into his earpiece, the white eyes of his domino mask narrowed as he looks at you.

you’re not sure how he knew where you lived, but you’re there, and you know he sees the pleading look in your eyes. you feel indebted to him, you were beginning to see your life flash before your eyes. adrenaline was coursing through your body, pounding through your veins, pushing blood out of the barely-there cut in your neck. you’d blinked, and ended up under him on your bed, his large hand cradling your head as he softly set you down.

it’s barely a pinch, barely a pinch when his teeth break skin, the area already numb. he’d lapped his pink tongue over the dark, drying blood on your neck, a spark igniting low in your belly.

you can feel his hard length rocking against the heat of your own crotch, the need for more radiating from the both of you, something palpable, solid. he moans into the crook of your neck, where his teeth are latched, and the warm breath across your flushed skin feels sinful, inviting. you wrap your otherwise idle hands around his torso, his strong, defined torso. the need for him grows stronger as his hips continue to rock against yours.

“n-nightwing, i—”

he sticks his gloved, blue middle and ring fingers in your mouth, and you leave them soaking, moaning around their weight on your tongue. you’re stammering out what’s probably a question, a ‘please,’ pathetic begging. he knows what you need, and he’s tracing the waistband of your underwear under your pants, the sensation heightened from his mouth on your neck. he reaches up to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb across the flushed skin. he lifts his head, and you don’t feel his teeth leave your neck, but you feel empty, so empty, whining as he nods at you, so sympathetic. you roll onto your belly, up onto your elbows. as he looks down at you, humming with approval. a shiver starts up your legs, happy to please, and he notes it, leaning farther over you.

“you sat like a dream for me, pretty girl.”

he brushes a hair out of your face as you look back at him. the sight of you on your belly under him, big eyes looking into his, sends his cock jerking. but instead, he sighs. he was so hasty. so pathetic for the way the crimson of your blood, your wound, was highlighting the curve of your sweet neck. his actions have been very, very unlike him. so impolite, so improper.

“i would like to apologize for earlier, and ask you directly this time. do i have your permission to penetrate you?”

you giggle, feeling a little delirious.

“of course, of course!”

he smiles, slight but warm, at your eager tone. before you know it, the top half of his blue and black suit is off, revealing a highly chiseled body that makes your throat suddenly very, very dry. he rubs a warm hand on your back, pulling your underwear down to bare his teeth at your bared skin. supple, soft. you squirm a little, feeling exposed, when nightwing grabs a handful. looking very pleased, he leans over you, nibbling at your ear while he nestles his length in your crevice. his weight on you feels amazing, like nothing you’ve ever felt before. you no longer feel the frantic adrenaline tensing through your body like it had been twenty minutes prior. nightwing licks a stripe across your throat, and you moan involuntarily, shivering as he blows a cool stream right where his tongue had touched.

he grips into the meat of your ass, pushing up to expose your dripping cunt. nightwing slides a finger through your folds, his adam's apple bobbing as he realizes how wet you are for him.

he sits back, quickly pulling his pants off, exposing exactly what you’d been feeling. the tip a pretty pink, it’s shiny, gleaming with pre as he takes himself in his hand, pumping once, twice. you can’t believe your eyes: nightwing almost seems shy when he realizes you’re looking back, watching him. his cheeks are pink under his dark domino mask. it’s all you can do not to tackle him and take him on the floor of your apartment. he must see the look in your eyes, because he’s back over you in a flash, thick forearms bracketing your head. you lift your hips up, and he spreads your legs farther, holding out his hand to you.

“spit.”

you blink at him, but you comply, and he strokes your saliva along his cock before lining his tip up with your entrance. he pushes in slowly, such a gentleman, watching your reaction very closely as he gives you time to adjust. one of his hands snakes over, lacing his fingers with yours as you take a deep breath, nodding for more. he gives it to you, slowly, so slowly, until he’s seated to the hilt.

his teeth are latched back onto your neck, flames are licking up your spine. you’ve had sex before, sure, but this is different. very, very different. his hips are snapping into yours as you moan into his arm. you feel so full, his cock somehow stuffed into your hole as his teeth siphon blood from your neck. you lean your head back, barely able to squeak out a sentence.

“‘m close, nightwing—” his pace starts faster, the bed creaking with the force of his weight pounding into you, pounding you farther into the mattress. pleasure shoots from your head to your toes, the wave threatening to crest as he slows down (tease!) just to start up again, repeating the rhythm until you feel it, your toes curling. you cry out, nightwing sighing happily into the crook of your neck as you shake under him, coming apart from his ministrations.

your vision completely whites out, ecstasy vibrating through your limbs.

he sits back, his cum painting your dimpled lower back. his flushed cheeks and chest send your heart aflutter, watching him with your eyes half shut.

“did so, so well for me, darling.” he purrs.

you point him in the direction of the bathroom, and after helping to clean you up too, nightwing joins you in bed. he holds you close, an arm tucked around your middle.

coming from just penetration alone is very new for you.. but so is sex with a vampire. you never saw his full face, but you never needed to. he gave you something you never knew you needed, and held you afterwards like you’re something precious to him. the strong presence of his body at your back is so reassuring, exhaustion and peace weighing down your bones until you’re asleep in his arms.

a rose is on your bedside table, your companion from last night long gone. you’re not sure how he got out. your front door is locked, as are all your windows, but you don’t think about it too hard. you probably shouldn’t think about him too hard either.

post divider: @enchanthings <3

[sandeewithtwoe]

I want to

Squish Swap's chubbyness❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Thank you, glad you like how I draw him <33

I don’t have time to draw right now but here’s me hugging swap. I hope that’s okayyy (just cast your energy onto me and it’ll be the same thing)