#v.snippet

[vee-crytraps]

Hiii vee! Just out of curiosity... what do you think each batboys ideal way to ask bb to be their valentine ? Hope you have a wonderful rest of your day <3

Hi!!! Omg this is such a cute question!! Looong post but hope you like! <3 Happy belated Valentines Day to all!

Dick Suave. Shameless. Thoughtful. You don't really pay that much attention to Dick's presence in the manor. There's no point of perking up like a bored puppy when you see that flash of striking blue and inky black, stretched across the strong chest that was the unfortunate source of your earliest 'tinglings'. Entraced in your upside down doomscrolling session on the sofa, you don't even notice the frown that tugs the corners of his lips when you fail to greet him with your usual enthusiasm. Or at all, really. He clears his throat once, and then twice- which finally gets you to drop your phone and right yourself. "Hi." "Hey," he grins, setting a duffel bag at your feet. "Sooo, you're gonna wanna get dressed. And...I kinda can't tell you why." You don't know what you're expecting- but it isn't the Rouge Astronomers Gown and a matching domino mask. "Dick-" "Please, little wing?" You have literally no idea why you're wearing noise dampening earplugs, or how no one saw two distinctly dressed figures grappling into the rafters of Gotham Square Garden- but you do know what it's like to see Juno performed live, soaking up the vibrations of Nightwing's own humming as you lean into his chest. "Will you?" "Huh?" The whites of your mask convey confusion, and then understanding. "Oh." You snort, glancing back down to the dancing Sabrina Carpenter. "What? Let you make me Juno?" "No," he laughs, and you can feel his arm tuck you closer into him as the other fishes for a heart shaped card. "My puns aren't that bad." BB Mine? "You sure about that, Nightwing?" Jason Jason in my head has the capacity to be an old school romantic (even more of a romantic than Dick) but he doesn't have the confidence to do something as overt as he'd like. Jason's desire to look cool and his history of comparing his game to Dick's makes for a storm of overcompensating via nonchalance. But it's super obvious because the romance still comes through in the end. So he'd: - ask BB if she was free 'on Friday' (Valentines Day) - if she wanted to go to 'this bookstore opening' (it's a romance only bookstore such like Lovestruck in Boston). - if she's hungry, they can 'grab something to eat' (it's a picnic. He made the ice tea pink) You'd lay together tucked away in a corner of Robinson Park, full on little treats and pastries and ice tea. You'd share his earbuds, the short wires forcing you into close proximity as you listen to an audiobook together. "Jay?" "Mm." "Is this a date?" "...Do you want it to be a date?" "Jace." "Princess." "Be my Valentine?" You ask, prodding a finger right over his heart. "Is that all I'm worth to you, BB? No card? No Hoizer? No heart shaped- ow!" He groans dramatically as you shove him, and the playfighting that ensues ends with him allowing you to pin him. "Well, if you're gonna beat it out of me," he sighs. "Yeah, sure. I'll be your Valentine." Tim "Whose the lucky guy?" Silas asks as he pushes off the gates marking the entrance to the academy. Students huddle together, whispering behind their hands and doing full 180s to glimpse you in the courtyard. Arm thrown around your shoulders, Silas guides you to your locker. It's stickerbombed with motifs of glitterfied conversation hearts toting classic phrases like 'Luv U', 'XOXO' and 'UR Cute'. There's no note on your locker. You side-eye Silas, who raises his hands in full surrender.

"Learned my lesson last time." He announces, but not to you. He's glancing at Damien, who leans against his own locker looking more displeased than with his usual resting Bat face. The final straw is when you open your locker, shutting your eyes out of reflex as an air cannon full of rose petals and glitter kindly decorates you and a few curious peers. You don't even have to look at your phone to know whose calling.

Fishing the vibrating device from your blazer, you scowl as the screen goes pink, save for some text. BE MINE? -TIM YES | NO (will brick ur phone </3) Damien You think next year, you're gonna ask Bruce if Jason was left out of the Christmas cards by choice. When he first started wearing the bat again, he'd vehemently denied any non-life threatening get togethers with extreme prejudice, but it's been years. Maybe all he needed was another push. You'd hate to think you all have been excluding Jason all these years on an assumption. As Dick, Tim and Bruce help the photographer finish the last of the set up, Damian hands you Ace's brush. You two have been tasked to be the animal wranglers this year (and every year), which involves making sure the handsome black dogs not only look their best, but are pumped full of enough treats not to mind the excessive repositioning. "Do you still check your google calendar?" Damien asks, running Titus' brush down the dog's neck. "Uh, yeah. Why?" "I need some...assistance. With an engagement." "Vague. When?" "Nine weeks from now. You'll recieve a reminder a few hours beforehand."

[vee-crytraps]

https://www.tumblr.com/vee-crytraps/775217616072638464/alright-look-not-saying-ill-do-it-for-sure-but-if

Four words: Jon, mile high club

Plane or no plane is up to you LOL

ooooh!!! "The Walk"

{Married Jon Kent/Reader | Sex in the middle of nowhere | NSFW} All things considered, you won the lottery with your in-laws. Clark was a great big teddy bear, Lois was witty, you had a good rapport with Kara and Conner- even Jon’s grandparents were total sweethearts. You'd never met a family quite as close as the Kents, and this year, you'd officially become apart of it. Over the course of your relationship, visiting his hometown during the holidays always felt special- but there was a certain magic about spending your first holiday season as a Mrs. Kent within the cozy (and thin) walls of Ma and Pa's place.

Growing up in the heart of a busy, individualistic city like Metropolis had created an appreciation for small town traditions. The diners offered free hot chocolate, carolers gathered in the square, and even the local school kids took half days to set up for the holiday market- it was like something out of a hallmark movie. So yes, you had a lot of reasons to look forward to visiting the Kents, but the lack of privacy wasn’t one of them. There was only so much ‘alone time’ two honeymooners could scrounge up while staying in a modest farm home- especially when half the other guests had super hearing. It was a lesson you'd learned your first night here- back in undergrad, when Jon couldn't exactly explain to you why hooking up in the garage wouldn't be a more effective solution. He'd given in to you that night, enduring Conner's nudging and the stern set of his father's brow. After you were folded into the Kent family secret, you went back to the drawing board- settling the tradition of your after dinner walks. “J…Jon,” you sigh, legs tucked under you for the sake of bracing yourself on his strong thighs. You kept your balance by splaying your hands across his strong chest, watching the way his brow furrows as you sink down onto him. The wind picks up, rustling your hair and the densely packed stalks of corn some thirty feet below. Flat on his back, Jon felt like he was floating in a sea of stars, but the sight could not compare to your flushed face as you rode him, the untied straps of your sundress falling further to expose your ample chest. The metal of his wedding ring was cool against your flesh as sank his fingers into your hips, his own bucking up into you. “So good,” he manages. “You feel so good, angel.”

[vee-crytraps]

um roy one night stand perchance 🤗🤗

"Do It For the Plot" {Roy/Reader | NSFW | Strangers to Lovers}

This is the furthest you’ve ever really taken a joke. Both in and outside of your field, you were known for your staunch commitment to the bit and your tendency to do things for the plot. These traits often ended with you biting off more than you can chew, and were probably more unhealthy than they were charming. It’s a realization that only just began to dawn on you as the redhead who jokingly offered to pay for his order of your nanites with his body, muffles a curse by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. The coolness of the mirror seeps through the back of your shirt as the unsecured sink began to knock against the wall with each of his hard, shallow thrusts. “I’m so close,” he groaned, pressing his lips just below your ear as your fingers slip between the material of his dumb baseball cap to grip his firey hair. “Are you really gonna let me walk out of here with those nanites?” “Make me come,” you panted, thighs already beginning to shake as your head lolls back, knocking against the mirror. “Then we’ll talk.”