#wanted to keep it simple but still do something

[xinganhao]

a peek into the process that was making catch you when i can.

(1) vernon x rockstar!reader was largely unnamed for the most part. i only figured that it at least deserves a title when i revamped the series masterlist, but the answer was pretty instant.

i start (and end) the story with vernon and reader saying a variation of 'catch you when i can', which is established in part one as "something exchanged as often as 'i love you'." i feel like it captures the struggles of a long-distance relationship very well. it's also a shameless reference to the iconic leonardo di caprio and tom hanks film lol:

(2) this wasn't supposed to be a series, honestly. part two was my attempt to cope with svt's new york shows, and i was convinced that i would end it with the cliffhanger of rockstar!reader accidentally posting vernon on her main instagram. but the verse just wouldn't let me go— hence, the full-blown smau.

(3) the 'vernhow' style headcanons for part three are probably my favorite style of headcanons not only for this series, but also my entire blog. getting to play around with it was so fun. buried in it is the crux of what would eventually be the ending: "Everybody now knows that you, Chwe Hansol, have a girlfriend. Someone you want so bad that you'll go back on all the things you believe."

(4) when i first referenced john mayer's Edge of Desire in part three, i wasn't quite thinking of his 2010 hollywood bowl performance just yet.

i revisited it when i was facing intense writer's block for the final chapter and everything flowed easily after that. part five is best read with that version of the song playing (linked as suggested listening lol) because i wrote nearly the entire thing while looping the track.

↳ this part in the song reminded me of how part four's headcanons were entirely about vernon's definition of 'fight', and how— despite his willingness to keep going with the relationship— it's ultimately a two-way street. it doesn't matter how much one tries. if, at the end of the day, the two of you aren't in it together? then the relationship will end. plain, simple, harsh.

↳ in the first part, the headcanons touch on vernon not being a big believer in "long-distance relationships or relationships in general," which all completely change after he starts dating reader. the real clincher, though, is how vernon spends much of part five being a 'terrible' ex: unable to go without contact, still supportive as ever. as the song goes: he's scared you'll forget about him.

(5) part five intentionally uses the first nine or so panels from an outsider's perspective. i wanted to really drive home the struggle of their public relationship and how it might have taken its toll/strain on the couple. it's what eventually inspired the brief headcanons, ala-he said, she said.

(6) i almost made vernon specifically reference romcoms with airport reunions in the finale, but i didn't want to isolate readers who might have not seen said films lol. the movies that would have been referenced were love actually (2003) and serendipity (2001).

(7) my top three panels in no particular order are—

was obsessed with a panicked vernon going "my gorgeous princess wife babygirl" + very characteristic of him to suddenly swoon when one of his favorite bands is brought up + something about vernon wanting a do-over on his 'hard launch' is just. #real.

(8) Black Eye is first mentioned in a part two headcanon where reader performs it in a speakeasy in front of vernon. it's posed as the moment that vernon realized he might he in love.

this makes it all the more cruel how reader unwittingly jokes that Black Eye is a breakup song in part five. i chose to conclude the series on the track's anniversary for no other reason than me needing a specific deadline to wrap stuff up lol.

(8.1) i think i do recall having some of Black Eye bleed into the work, which might be evident in the following lyrics & consequent story parallels:

running 'round the whole city looking for someone -> ties in to part two, where the headcanons are based on how vernon and reader feel about new york city i can't stand the quiet/is anyone out there? is anyone out there? -> best encapsulated in how vernon continues to contact reader post-break up (also parallels mayer's 'i'm scared you'll forget about me') i'm on my worst behavior, don't stop me now -> in part four, vernon gets into a physical altercation with the press in defense of reader and he's adamant that he did the right thing i'm okay, i'll just let it burn around me -> best captures vernon in part five + another parallel to mayer, where a part in the song goes 'i'm just about to set fire to everything i see'

(9) ending this with what i anticipate to be part of the faqs, post-main story: why did vernon and reader break up just to get back together again?

the long answer: because people are messy. because we think we know best— for ourselves, for others— and so we act on those impulses in the name of self-preservation, or care, or whatever noble thing you want to call it. people are complex and complicated, and with that comes regret, romance, and everything in between.

"they should have just worked it out!" they did try. it's human nature to feel slighted when things don't work out in your favor. there's only so much tenacity that a person can have before they're cursing the universe for the cards they're dealt, so can vernon/reader really be blamed for fraying?

"the breakup was unnecessary!" i could argue that it isn't. say some bs about it being very necessary, in fact, for character development, plot progression (lol), 'not realizing what you have until it's gone'. the works. but admittedly? i agree.

we— vernon and reader included— make questionable choices. whether or not we double down, move on, or circle back is an entirely different story in itself. vernon and reader found their way back; not all of us are as lucky. but some of us can be, some of us have been, and that was enough for me to trust that the story would sail.

the knowledge that, at the end of the day, the love that 'wins' is the one that makes the work worth it.

the short answer: i just really wanted them to have a happy ending. god knows they deserve it.

thank you for reading and enjoying this little story! it was mine once, but it's all yours now. ❥

catch you when i can (vernon x reader)

⤿ a five-part series charting vernon's relationship with you, an international rockstar.

𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 —

✮ part one, the one with the origin story. ✮ part two, the one where vernon tours in your city. ✮ part three, the one where you go public. ✮ part four, the one about fighting. ✮ part five, the one where a choice has to be made.

ⓘ international rockstar!f!reader, long distance relationship, established relationship, use of pet names. fluff, angst. cussing.

annotations for the main verse.

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐒 —

there's nothing here yet! :)

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —

with love, kae ✎ i adore this verse so, so much that asks (i.e. drabbles, headcanons, smaus) for it will be perpetually open, regardless of whether or not my main requests are open. as always, this wouldn't have come to light without the anon who asked for it in the first place! i'm eternally indebted.

thank you for reading catch you when i can. <3

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[crimsoncandy04]

omg love ur writing in the scaramouche tag and was wondering if i could place a request because i thought of scaramouche with a stubborn reader who refuses to submit to him so he punishes her via fucking machine until shes broken down and begging for him... its just some brainworms of mine

*scuttles out from underneath your bed and gently tucks my response underneath your pillow before returning to my nest*

Marry Christmas ya filthy animals lmao

(Hehe. I've been excited to write this)

(Bondage Scaramouche!)

You sigh softly as the gentle hum of the large vibrators fill your ears. Your wrists are handcuffed to a wall behind you on either side of your head. a locked metal chastity belt prevented the painfully enormous insertions from slipping out of your ass and cunt. This had been HIS sick way of punishing you for spitting in his face yesterday when he originally had tried to kiss you.

Scaramouche.

The fucking Balladeer.

You hated that self absorbed and condescending humanoid bastard but unfortunately for you, he had grown attracted to you.

He had wanted you.

And he had gotten you.

It was as simple as that. Or was it?

"Enjoying yourself?" A cold voice suddenly sneered from somewhere in front of you. You knew even through the blindfold that it was him. As if you could ever get off from something as disgusting and evil as what this sociopathic harbinger had done to you. Grabbing you. Pinning you to the ground beneath him as he had attempted to press his lips to yours.

He was lucky you didn't bite his tongue off instead of just spitting at him.

"Fuck you!" You hiss through your teeth. Your body is still trembling from the unwanted orgasms you were experiencing. You could hear the keys to your belt jingling from somewhere on him.

"Is that right now sweetheart? Finally come to your senses?" He reached out and ran a gloved hand across your cheek.

"Absolutely not you disgusting bastard! You know what I meant!"

A silence follows as you feel him pull away from you.

Then you feel a sharp sting in your neck.

"Ah! What the hell are you doing!? Stop!"

"You can't say I haven't been nice. I thought you would have seen reason by now but it appears your stubborn attitude will need correction first." He whispers in your ear. His cool breath sending shivers down your spine.

"This should make you a little more agreeable you ungrateful little cockroach."

You start to feel hot suddenly. You want to scream as you hear him still kneeling in front of you. Yet as you hear the click of a button being pressed and the vibrators deep in your holes start to move faster than before, you can't do anything but gasp suddenly and try in vain to close your knees and ignore the way your body quickly begins to tingle.

"I hate you! I won't... Ngh~" you have to bite your lip to keep from moaning. Whatever Scaramouche had injected you with was causing you to lose your composure fast. And also...become unbelievably overwhelmed with lust.

"Does it feel good? You like the way my toys are fucking that tight little cunt of yours?" He purrs as you feel him spread your knees apart and move to kneel between them. Scaramouche reaches out and pinches one of your nipples. Tugging on the sensitive peak ever so slightly as you squirm and writhe.

"You know, if you stop acting like such a pain in the ass, I could make it all better. Make the uncomfortable feeling in your body go away. Make you want me." You feel him lean in. His lips graze yours as he whispers.

"Why don't we try that kiss again hmm? This time, if you know what's good for you, you won't pull any more foolish stunts."

Before you can respond in any way, Scaramouche's lips are on yours. He moves his free hand to play with your hair as he continues to fondle your breast with the other. After a few seconds he shoves his tongue into your mouth and for a moment you almost falter. You want nothing more than to moan and cry and scream for this man to touch you. To fuck you. But as you suddenly jerk your head away and curse him under your breath, you come back to your right mind and immediately feel violated and enraged over what this lowly bastard is trying to do.

"No! How dare you! Don't touch me!"

You hear him get back to his feet. Feel his sharp and sadistic gaze on you as you are forced to cum again thanks to the toys buried in you still.

"You don't want me to lay my hands on you?" Scaramouche asks in a sinister tone. He chuckles softly.

"Well then, have it your way dear."

You try to kick as you feel him suddenly move close to you again and prick your neck a second time. But he's too fast and far too strong for any normal human to be able to apprehend on their own. And as you feel the new medicine quickly coarse through your veins and cause you to feel drowsy, you swear you hear Scaramouche laughing again and the sound of keys jingling.

You open your eyes sometime later and feel your wrists and head aching. You lift your head as best as you can in your semi-conscious state and realize that you're just dangling from the ceiling with your feet about a foot from the tatami floor beneath you. Your wrists are bound together by a red rope that is attached to a thick wooden rafter high above you. And to make things possibly even more humiliating, one of the ropes was tied carefully through your long hair and was tethered to something in your ass that caused your scalp and asshole to ache every time you tried to move your head or lower body. It was all so uncomfortable and yet you couldn't even adjust yourself without feeling your wrists burn or your hair getting yanked.

"you're finally awake. I was hoping you hadn't gone and died on me before we even got to the best part yet."

Scaramouche strode over to where you were hanging and reached out to feel your wetness. His long slender fingers easily slid into your sopping cunt and began to move. Wiggling around inside and teasing you before he abruptly removes them entirely. Leaving you irritated and slightly disappointed that he had left your aching sex empty again despite how aroused you still were from the earlier injection.

Scaramouche brings his fingers to his lips and grins mischievously as he licks them clean, commenting on how nice you taste as he watches a light blush form on your face.

"What an interesting expression. You want me to play with your cute little pussy more? Too bad. Don't blame me though. I'm simply giving you what you wanted. You don't want me to touch you. Remember?"

You felt burning hot anger suddenly rise within you. He wanted this.

That vile bastard wanted you to beg for him and plead for him to fuck you.

Archons, was he so grossly full of himself.

You grit your teeth and force yourself to glare at Scaramouche as you now struggle to fight the intense and overwhelming feeling of lust that plagued every inch of your hot feeling and quivering form.

"You won't break me you sick fucker!"

Scaramouche raises an eyebrow at your words.

"You think so huh? Well, let's just see."

He moves fast. Too fast.

One second he was standing in front of you and then you blinked and now he was behind you. You heard something big being placed just behind you. Mere inches from your throbbing sex as you hear Scaramouche comment about how he's going to enjoy watching you lose yourself after this and before you can figure out what he's planning, suddenly the sound of a machine buzzing to life fills your ears. Seconds after a thick dildo suddenly forces itself deep into your pussy and begins thrusting. Slowly at first, but after a few seconds it gets faster. You feel the silicone tip pound against your cervix. The thickness fills every inch of you and stretches your pussy to its limit. Making you shudder and finally...moan.

It was accidentally. You immediately regretted it.

But Scaramouche had heard it.

"Oh? Enjoying this are you? You seem to like my toys a lot huh?" You feel him rub his hand across your ass cheek and then squeeze a little.

"What if I were to remove this hook and fill your fat ass with something particularly large instead? Like the one in your cunt. Would you moan? Cry? Beg for more? Or would you continue with this annoying attitude of yours and let me ruin your perfect little holes in the process?"

Scaramouche suddenly slaps your ass hard. Making you whimper a little as you try to close your eyes and regain control. But as you try, suddenly another painful slap stops you.

He continues to spank you several more times before pausing and caressing your sore cheeks with his hands again. After that he began again. Your ass hurt, your pussy clenched and fluttered around the dildo as it thrust in and out of your oversensitive cunt, as the sensation of both pain and pleasure overwhelmed your senses, suddenly you gasp and let out a small whine as you feel yourself squirt.

Scaramouche laughs a little as he finally moves from behind you after that. Staring at you with a smug expression as you go limp while still being fucked by the machine behind you.

"That was quick. Clearly someone enjoyed themselves." He places his hands on either side of your face. The gesture is oddly gentle.

"Just relax. Stop fighting me. I don't want to punish you. It gets boring after a while. But if you continue to defy me, I won't hesitate to remind you of your place." One of his thumbs rubs a tear from your cheek that you weren't even aware had fallen.

"If you give in now, I can make you feel better than any mortal ever could. Don't you want that little bug? Humans like feeling good. Doesn't this all feel uncomfortable? Humiliating? I can make it stop if you just quit resisting." His touch was softer. But Scaramouche had no affection behind those indigo eyes of his as he gazed at you intensely.

You just gave him a look of reluctance as another small moan was forced out of you.

"Looks like you still need some convincing." He lets go of your face and suddenly reaches into the small pouch near his waist to retrieve a small remote. He smirks as he pushes a button and suddenly makes the dildo in your pussy begin to vibrate. He then increases the intensity. Your legs begin to shake as you finally stop trying to stay quiet.

It's too much.

"Fuck! It's hitting so deep! Scaramouche... I can't!" You try to wiggle your hips a little but the hook in your ass suddenly yanks on your hair again and you struggle to remain still.

You just...need more. You need to cum. You can't take this anymore.

Scaramouche unties his belt as he watches the machine continue to ravage you. It drops to the floor and after that you watch as he tugs down his shorts a little and reaches for his cock. He starts jerking off to the sight of you and even presses another button on the remote with his free hand that makes the dildo piston in and out faster.

"If it's too much. Just ask for me instead. Give in. And I'll make it stop." He leans in and kisses you again as he gets off to you. Swallowing your moans and sounds of pleasure as you feel yourself cum again. Finally as you feel another overwhelming wave of pleasure and swear the room sways a little around you as scara backs away, you finally give up.

"Scaramouche please fuck me. I can't stand this anymore! I want...i want your cock in me."

"Are you sure? You don't sound like you do. Maybe if you convince me I'll oblige."

Gods no.

He was making you beg.

You lowered your gaze as you felt your pride wither.

"Please Scaramouche, I don't want this fake cock in me. I want your dick. Please fuck me. Please...i need your big cock in my pussy!"

You don't even realize you're cut free from your binds after you finish pleading until you feel yourself hit the floor.

And feel Scaramouche grabbing your ass from behind.

"Who am I to deny such a needy girl? If you insist then I'll fuck you stupid you pitiful little worm."

He roughly shoves himself into your throbbing core to the hilt. Digging his nails into your hips before fucking hard into you. His movements are quick too. Scarily quick.

You feel yourself turn to jelly in his hold as he slams into your g spot and makes you squeal. You cry out as you feel yourself climax violently and yet he doesn't stop.

You don't want him too either.

"Scaramouche you feel amazing!" You gasp as you feel him reach for a tit and squeeze. His finger teasing the nipple.

"I know sweetheart. Just keep taking it. You feel so tight. Just like I knew you would." He groans before leaning down and wrapping his arms around your middle. Fucking you fast enough to make you scream as you feel yourself squirt again on his thick shaft.

"Fuck I'm gonna keep you. This cunt of yours is perfect." You hear the sound of electro before you feel it as Scaramouche suddenly tightens his hold on you and ejaculates.

A powerful jolt is sent deep into your womb and makes you climax again instantly. You feel a small lingering tingle in your belly and as Scaramouche releases you, you turn over slightly and notice that a strange mark has formed on your lower abdomen. It glows to life as Scaramouche rubs his cock against your slit and after that you feel yourself get excited again despite being beyond exhausted.

You hear him hum a little as he slowly slips into you once more.

"Don't worry about that my little insect. This just shows that you're mine and prevents you from enjoying anyone else. It has some special properties that will affect you but nothing unpleasant."

He begins to thrust again.

"After this, all I need is to knock you up. Shouldn't be too hard now that I gave you that. Then you'll be by my side forever. My pretty little toy~"

You can only feel pleasure as Scaramouche begins to use your pussy again. Deep in the back of your mind there's a small nagging feeling that this is wrong. But how could it be when everything about it just felt so right?

[axolotl4days]

Batfam au angst :) also leading into (platonic) yandere batfam

What if Jason wasn't the first kid to die :)

And what if Damian wasn't Bruce's only biological kid :)

Au idea I'm simple terms: what if Bruce had a daughter in his early years of batman, who went missing and dead, but then years later reappeared and was found again, Bruce and the others won't make the same mistake twice.

Author's note before reading: Please keep in mind I'm new to this fandom, so I don't know much about what's canon. I simply get creative ideas really easily and have decided to share them.

If anyone else likes this idea, feel free to rewrite or add onto the concept, if you do please tag me I'd love to see what others do with this concept

I'm picturing reader to be the same age as or potentially slightly younger than Damian, but no specific ages are mentioned

Damian POV:

It was a day like any other, awful, Damian had to go to school. He didn't hate school, just the people there, loud, annoying, nosy.

He went about his day the same as always, reading in class and working on his work, until suddenly the principle came to class abruptly saying they had a new student, which the teacher promptly assigned to sit next to Damian. Great.

The teacher also informed him that he would be the one to show this new student around. So Damian braced himself for the extra annoying questions about him and his family, after all that's what people always want to know.

But to his suprised? This girl didn't care about any of that, simply asking questions about the class and school. She didn't even ask if he was really a Wayne, she looked a bit suprised but it wasn't the usual suprise most people had, and she didn't ask him any questions about it so it didn't matter.

As he showed her around he found out that they had the same classes, he heard her sigh of relief, but when questioned she said she was glad because it ment she wouldn't be alone in any of her classes and she'd have someone to turn to.

As the day went on they would go to class and work on classwork, it seems his new classmate was a lot smarter than the rest of them and he didn't have to constantly help her with work.

At the end of the day he made a mental note of a new acquaintance.

Later that day

"Ah, Master Damian, welcome back. How was your day at school?" Alfred asked, greeting the young boy

"It was alright Pennyworth, we had a transfer student today, but she seemed to be quite intelligent unlike the rest of those peasants" Damian replied

"Oh? A transfer student? In the middle of the school year? How odd."

"Yeah, I'll keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior, but there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, her name is Y/n." Damian said, but after saying her name he noticed Alfred looked pale

"Pennyworth? Are you feeling ill? Do I need to inform father?" Damian asked

"No no, I'm quite alright, it's just, I... used to know someone with that name, so I was suprised to hear it. That's all." Alfred replied, but he still looked pale

"If you say so. I'm going to head to my room and work on schoolwork before it's time for patrol" Damian said, and he was gone without another word

Alfred's POV:

'Calm yourself Alfred. It's a normal name that anyone could have, besides, it's been 20 years. Even if it was her she wouldn't be part of the young masters class. Still... I should inform Master Bruce, incase he mentions this classmate' Alfred thinks to himself before heading to the batcave.

There he finds both Bruce and Tim, working on the computer, searching for sightings of criminal activity, recently rumors of a new villain with unknown powers had started to arise, so it was the batman's job to keep Gotham safe

"Ahem, apologies for interrupting, but I need to borrow Master Bruce for a moment" Alfred says

"Did something happen Alfred?" Bruce asks

"No, not necessarily, it's nothing serious but we need to talk" Alfred replies

Bruce gets up and follows Alfred out of the room

"What is it Alfred? You look like you've seen a ghost." Bruce states

"Apologies Sir, as I said, it's nothing serious, however Damian informed me of a new classmate at school today" Alfred starts

"In the middle of the year?" Bruce comments

"That's what I said, however that isn't the point, I simply wanted to let you know before hand, incase the young master mentions this classmate infront of you.." Alfred pauses

"That's it? Why would you need to inform me of that" Bruce asks confused

"Well you see. He said that her name was... Y/n" Alfred states, and Bruce becomes just as pale as he is

"I see.... did Damian tell you anything else about this.... classmate?" Bruce asks

"No, he did not. But simply stated he'd keep an eye out for anything suspicious." Alfred said

"I understand." Bruce said with a deep sigh

"Are you alright Master Bruce? I know it's been a long time but-"

"I'm fine Alfred. I just... I'm fine. I need to head back to work now, we still don't know what this new villain is capable of, or what they're after." Bruce says, turning away

"Alright sir, if you insist. Please take care of yourself."

Alfred says, but he knows how Bruce is

The patrol went on as normal, and so did school. Nothing particularly interesting happened it was a week like any other, Damian and y/n would work on schoolwork together during breaks, since y/n joined late she had a lot of work to catch up on but she didn't have much trouble and Damian helped her when she did. The two had even become friends, turns out they had a lot in common, and some classmates tried to joke about how they were like siblings, but the two didn't mind. The jokes did make Damian aware of how... familiar y/n looked. He pondered the idea of her being a child from a one night stand, but the timelines didn't match up so he brushed the thought away, thinking it was a coincidence that she looked so much like Bruce. But nothing out of the ordinary happened of note, not until one fateful patrol where Damian made a discovery

Y/n POV:

Y/n didn't know where to go after waking up again, it was clear so many things have changed, and her dad taught her well. She needed more information before she made any decisions.

Unfortunately this ment she had no place to stay. After all, she couldn't go to an orphanage, she wasn't an orphan and she didn't have any documents or a story on where she came from. She knew better than to go to the police, what would she even say to them? So here she was. Sitting under a bridge hoping she won't get sick. But she was strong, she'd do what she'd have to in order to understand the situation better. Even if that means sleeping under a bridge like a troll, even if it means only eating the food provided by the school, even if it means-

"Hello there. Are you alright?" A voice asked making her jump

She turns to see, some sort of vigilante. She had heard in passing about how her dad Batman wasn't the only vigilante in Gotham anymore, so she figured it was one of them

"Oh um, I'm alright" she replied, she hadn't planned to meet any of them, she knew she might meet batman, which she kind of hoped for because then she could get some answers, but this was new territory this was- wait a minute why does he kind of look like Damian?

"Are you sure? Your sitting underneath a bridge at night, kids shouldn't be out here like this you could get hurt. Or worse. Why aren't you with your parents?" The vigilante (Damian) said, after recognizing his classmate, assessing the situation

"It's... complicated" y/n replies, before wondering how much she should tell him "I... can't really talk about it, but I can't go back home.. not yet at least, and I don't have anywhere else to go, so I've just been here" she states, hoping she didn't say to much

The vigilante just stays there for a moment, not saying anything, and she wonders if she said to much or if he thinks she's a criminal

"I see. In any case, you shouldn't be out here alone, the streets of Gotham aren't safe, however if you insist on staying out here may I suggest somewhere that isn't so easily spotted? You wouldn't want to be attacked. I know a few places that are safer than.. this" The vigilante says offering a hand

"Oh, uhm" y/n thinks for a moment, weighing her options "I'll take you up on that offer, it's not great down here" y/n replies, taking his hand

The two go to a more remote, slightly cleaner area

"Here we are, even if it's temporary this would be a better place for a shelter than where you were before. I don't know what's going on, but if you need assistance, im willing to help" the vigilante replies

"Thank you, you've really been more than enough help and I appreciate it a lot. If I need anything il let you know....."

"... Robin. My name is Robin." Robin says, noticing her pause

"Robin... thank you for the help, good luck with the rest of your patrol" y/n says

"Of course, you be careful now, always keep an eye out." Robin says, before leaving

'Phew.... he's gone. That was definitely him, and he definitely recognized me. Now what. He didn't say anything so they're definitely still doing the secret identity thing. I guess I'll just have to play it cool and hope he doesn't say anything at school. If any of the teachers find out I'm definitely gonna get investigated and then my whole plan will be thrown out the window.' Y/n thinks to herself 'Maybe this is a good thing, if he's Robin, it's likely that dad's still Batman too, which means I might run into him. What if he doesn't recognized me? What if he does recognize me?? What if- what if he didn't miss me.... no, no! This is dad, of course he missed me but it's been... so long... what do I do if he doesn't want me back...' y/n starts to worry about before she falls to the floor and starts to cry

Which, unbeknownst to her, Damian saw, he doesn't know why she's crying or why it makes him feel so... protective but he knows somethings up, so he goes off and reports what he knows to Batman

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaaaand cliffhanger! Mwahahahaha

I would have kept going, and I know exactly what's coming next, but I've been typing for awhile and I have no idea how long this post is, and I don't want it to be too long

So I'm stopping it there,

This wasn't supposed to be this much but my creative brain decided to run with this idea, so there's gonna be a part 2 soon

Also I've decided to call this au

Batman Dead Daughter Au

Because.... idk what else to call it and if I'm gonna make a part 2 and potentially more depending on how this goes, I'm gonna need something to refer to it with.

As I said before, I'm extremely new to the batman stuff

Pretty much all of my knowledge comes from youtube and tumblr, so bare with me if things are out of character

I've also never written fanfiction before, it's always just been in my head, so the writing is probably a bit funny

Yes I'm a writer in the making but I haven't actually gotten to the writing part

And fanfiction is a bit different

Hope yall like the concept tho

Again, feel free to write your own version of this if you want to, just tag me so I can read it too lol

[na0koz]

Toxic jinx finding out that your a virgin and taking your virginity/ how she would handle it

toxic!jinx masterlist

MDNI. cw: top jinx, that’s kind of it..

she would like that a lot.

all jinx wants to do, when you boil it down, is to claim you as hers. to prove you belong to her. taking your virginity is honestly like the highest way to do this, in her books at least.

she’d want to do literally everything to you that same night. she wants you to experience everything, and always remember her as your first, no matter what it is.

jinx will start off gentle, with something you’re likely familiar with already: using her fingers on you. she’ll keep to the outside of your dripping pussy at first, teasing you as you whine and twitch under her grip, until finally she plunges one of her fingers into your hole.

she loves watching how you react to things, especially things she does. this is like her dream. to see exactly how she can make you feel good. she adds another finger, and starts to fuck them in and out of you.

you whimper and hide your face in her neck, embarrassed by how sensitive you were already just from some simple teasing, as well as the lewd position she had you in. legs spread in her lap, holding your wrists in her free hand up by your chest. she coaxes your face back out with her free hand clutched to your jaw.

“wanna see you, baby.” she sounds stern yet her voice drips with sweetness, with love.

though, jinx doesn’t make you cum. not yet. she can’t have you tapping out when she’s barely even started. her first objective is to learn exactly what you like and what gets you whining so sweetly into her ear.

she gently manipulates your limbs into a new position, on your back with your legs spread wide. she lays on her stomach between your thighs, grinning to herself as she finds herself face to face with your pussy, puffy and glistening from how her fingers felt around it minutes before.

her breath ghosts your thighs, making you twitch under her tight grip on your hips. she giggles slightly at your reaction.

“let me get a taste of you, ‘kay?” jinx asks, looking up at your with wide eyes. she wants this and you can hear it in her voice, feel it in the air.

you nod and she grins again. she leans into you and kisses your clit, the sensation coursing through you. your back arches off the bed before she pushes you back down. can’t have you running off.

finally, jinx starts to eat you out, and god is she good. you’re not really sure where she got all the experience from, but you really couldn’t care less when she was unravelling you on her tongue. as she prodded and poked your desperate hole, you got closer and closer to your release.

she can’t take it anymore, she just has to make you cum. she needs to see how you move, what sounds you make, how your pussy takes it.

she coaxes your orgasm out with her skilled sucks and licks, revelling in the taste of you only getting better as you cum over her chin and into her mouth.

jinx honestly feels like she could pass out right now. she’s dreamt of this so many times, not that she’d tell you, she thinks it would scare you a little.

she grins and laps up your release. you swear you hear her humming an ‘mmm’ sound. you feel like she’s gonna beg you to do this a lot now you’ve let her break the seal of your first time.

she looks up at you with wide eyes as she licked the last drops of you from her lips.

“you like that, hm baby?”

you nod frantically, still breathing heavily from your orgasm. you don’t think you’ll mind if jinx wants to do this to you every single day.

she grins to herself for the millionth time that night while mentally patting herself on the back for making you cum the first time round.

when she crawls backs up to you to cradle your head, jinx notices your teary eyes drooping. as your breathing slows, she takes it upon herself to clean you up and get you dressed. she is surprisingly good at doing this without waking you, almost suspiciously.

she thinks she’ll let you sleep before she tries anything else on you.

[afterglowkatie]

more than christmas | a.k.

alanna kennedy x reader | 1.4k | ‘I love how you look at me like I’m the only person in the world,’

❆♡────୨ holiday season blurb event ৎ────♡❆

You felt a little tingle in the back of your throat a few days before you were set to fly out. A slight ache in your head and the rest of your body the next day that followed. But you tried to ignore it, hoping that you weren’t really about to get sick right before Christmas.

You and Alanna had planned to spend Christmas with her family this year in Australia. You always looked forward to having a summer Christmas, even if it still felt weird to you to celebrate Christmas in anything other than winter and snow. 

A slight tingle and a dull ache was easy enough to hide from Alanna, knowing if she knew you weren’t feeling the best, you’d be seeing an overprotective girlfriend that wouldn’t stop asking if you were sure you were alright a million times before your trip. Not that you hated it, but you didn’t want to ruin your Christmas and holiday plans, you knew how much Alanna had been looking forward to going home and seeing her family. It was something you knew she really needed lately.

‘What do you mean you’re not packed yet?’ You stifled a small cough, noticing how dry and sore your throat was.

‘Babe, chill, there’s still plenty of time,’ Alanna wrapped her arms around you from behind, pulling you into her, mostly trying to stop you from pacing around the house stressing. You melted in her embrace, the comfort of her arms doing a lot to ease the ache that kept spreading over your tired body, ‘Plus we won’t need much anyway,’ Alanna whispered against your neck, pressing a kiss against it. 

You rolled your eyes, playfully pushing Alanna’s arms away from you despite your body protesting, ‘Yeah we all know the real reason you invite me to spend summer in Australia,’ 

Alanna held her hands up in defence, ‘What can I say? I’m a simple woman,’ She smirked, leaning back against the doorframe, arms crossed against her chest while she looked at you. Imagining how you’d look in a few days time, tanning on the beach.

The day of your flight to Australia, you’d barely slept, being kept away with the ache that had tripled in intensity in the last day. You couldn’t find a way to get comfy, tossing and turning until your alarm went off and you realised you hadn’t actually slept at all. 

You laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling, wishing there was a way to not feel so much pain, a way for your throat to not feel like it’s closing up. When Alanna woke up, she thought you’d turned the heating up too much with how much warmth was radiating. Though she properly woke up when she turned over, lazily laying an arm over your stomach, realising the heat she was feeling was radiating off of your skin.

‘Baby?’ Alanna leaned up on her elbow to look at you, her voice soft and still laced with sleep. You had your eyes closed, your head hurt too much to keep them open, ‘Are you feeling okay?’ She could tell you weren’t really asleep.

Internally you groaned, opening your eyes looking at Alanna. You did your best to smile, though it did nothing to alleviate your girlfriend’s concerns. Your eyes didn’t have the same sparkle they normally did, your smile was barely one if you could even count it as a smile and the biggest giveaway was that you weren’t already out the door talking her ear off about everything you were going to do when you landed on the other side of the world.

Everyone who knows you, knows how much you love your trips to Australia. So much you’d even considered moving over there one day. Retirement in Australia definitely, with Alanna, definitely sounded like a nice idea. So the minute you weren’t yapping about the trip and already halfway out the door before Alanna had the chance to wake up, she knew you weren’t feeling well. Getting you to admit to not feeling good is always a whole other story.

‘Yeah, I’m fine Lani,’ You inwardly cursed your voice for sounding so broken and small, the opposite to how you normally would sound, ‘Come on, there’s a plane waiting to take me to a place I can devour my weight in chilli eggs and soak up three times the sun we’d ever get to see here,’ You tried to laugh but stopped when you realised it’d send you into a coughing fit, not something you needed when you were trying to convince Alanna you were fine.

Trying to convince her was short lived when you willed your body to move, despite it protesting any movement, you sat up seemingly too fast. Your head span, ears rang and your legs and arms were shaking. Alanna was quick to sit up and get to you so you didn’t fall on the ground. Wrapping her arm around you, moving to sit more behind you.

Alanna had a permanent frown etched on her face, only growing in her concern for you. You held your head in your hands, keeping your eyes covered, avoiding any light. Alanna had slowly but successfully moved you back to laying down, making sure to avoid layering you in the blankets since you were still radiating enough heat to heat up your bedroom.

Pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, rubbing your back gently, watching you relax into her touch before tensing as a new wave of pain surged through your body. Her eyes flickering between you and your suitcases that were in the corner of your room, packed and waiting for your flight, ‘I’ll be back in a minute my love,’ You let out a little hum to acknowledge the defender.

Alanna did what any good girlfriend would’ve done, even if she knew you would hate it not liking when your plans don't happen because of you. But if she’d let you decide then despite feeling like you’d been hit by a truck, you’d both still be on your way to the airport right now. She cancelled your flights, called her family and promised to find another time to visit. Ultimately understanding the last thing anyone wanted you to do was sit through like 30+ hours of travelling.

‘I’m sorry for ruining your Christmas,’ You were slightly more alive than before, laying against Alanna’s chest, her arms wrapped around you were better than any kind of blanket you could’ve been wrapped up in.

‘You didn’t ruin anything,’ Alanna looked down at you, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head. When you looked like you were going to protest and disagree with her words she continued, ‘Being with you, making sure you’re okay, matters more to me than any Christmas plans we had,’ You didn’t have the energy to fight Alanna, instead letting her words drape over you like a comforting blanket. You hated when things didn’t go right, but you hated the thought of disappointing Alanna more.

You were still looking in the way of the tv, the quiet sounds of the movie filling the silence of your apartment. Alanna was still looking at you, a small smile on her lips, a softness in her eyes that she only held whenever she looked at you. Her hand found her way to your head, gently playing with your hair, knowing these little things did more to comfort you than anything else. She couldn’t help herself but hold you a little bit tighter against her and press more kisses to the top of your head, letting her lips linger.

Feeling your cheeks heat up, not from your slight fever, but knowing your girlfriend’s eyes were still on you. Even years later you still felt the swarm of butterflies in your stomach whenever Alanna’s gaze was purely on you. You both still felt the same way you did when you’d first met each other when Alanna moved to City.

You looked up at your girlfriend, your smile was bashful when you locked eyes with her, ‘I love how you look at me like I’m the only person in the world,’ Even more years could pass by and you know Alanna would still look at you like that, the thought that made you even more flustered under her gaze.

Alanna’s hands still gently comforting your aching body, she brushed a few strands of hair that had stuck to the light sweat that covered your skin from your small fever, her eyes never leaving yours, ‘Well, you are my world and the most important person to me, my love,’

[jobean12-blog]

You come home and see that babe got you a present. What's in the box?

The Perfect Gift

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 700 (exactly hehe)

Summary: Living in Jackson has given you as close to a normal life as you can get in the post apocalyptic world and Joel just makes it that much better.

Author's Note: Thank you my sweet Cia for sending such lovely thoughts my way! I was doing some yoga this morning and this idea hit me. I appreciate you always thinking of me! I hope you're having the best week and happiest holidays! HUGS and LOVE! ❤️Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy🥰

Warnings: Soft and sweet fluff

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The world outside is muffled in a hush, every sound softened by the blanket of sparkling, cold snow. But inside, there’s only warmth.

A strong arm rests against the curve of your waist and calloused fingertips trace idle shapes on your soft skin. The steady rhythm of his breath is warm along your neck before his lips press delicate kisses down to your bare shoulder.

“Mornin’ darlin’,” he whispers, his voice still deep and rumbly with sleep.

You turn over, burying your face in his chest and mumbling, “good morning.”

He pulls you closer and kisses the top of your head.

“Ready to get up?” he chuckles.

“Is it still snowing?” you ask, keeping your face hidden.

He stirs slightly and after a short pause, quietly answers with a “yes.”

“Let’s stay in bed.”

“What about your present?” he murmurs.

At the mention of a gift, you blink open your eyes and reluctantly drag yourself from his warmth to meet his gaze.

“Gift?”

He nods with a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. You run your fingers through his mussed hair, twirling a stray curl around your fingers before softly kissing him.

“Ok. I can get up for that.”

“I thought so,” he grins with a wink.

He starts to move but you cling to his biceps. “But I don’t want you to leave,” you pout.

“I don’t have to go far,” he says and sits up to reach into the small makeshift nightstand next to the bed.

He pulls out a package, wrapped simply in brown paper with some twine holding it together. He suddenly looks nervous, his expression wide eyed with worry and your eyebrows draw in.

“Joel?”

Without blinking he stares at you and sets it in your lap.

You give him one last curious glance and pull at the string. The paper opens and out falls one of his flannels, your favorite one.

Your face lights up in a smile and you hug it to your chest, letting the sheet fall from your shoulders, revealing more of your naked skin.

He reaches out to touch you. “Do you like it? I know it’s nothing new, but I know how much you love wearing them. Now this one is officially yours.”

Pressing the soft fabric to your chest you bring the collar to your nose with a deep inhale.

Sighing softly, you whisper, “it’s perfect Joel. I love it!”  

You throw yourself into his arms and he helps you put it on, slowly and carefully closing each button but not without brushing his knuckles along your skin, sending a shiver of goosebumps down your spine.

“There,” he says, looking you over. “My perfectly wrapped present.”

You giggle and run your hands down the front. As you do you feel something hard in the front pocket. You stop and look up to find Joel smiling softly.

“Find something else?”

When you reach into the pocket your fingers close around something small and cool and then you pull out your hand in your palm rests a simple gold band.

Your eyes widen and you suck in a gasp.

He takes it from your hand and grabs your chin between his fingers, tilting your face up to his.

“Darlin’,” he starts, his voice gruff with emotion. “I was so lost before. But now that I have you, I need you. Not in the ways to survive, but in the ways that make life worth living. I was made and meant to look for you and wait for you and become yours forever…that is, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”

The tears fall freely down your cheeks, and you manage a “yes,” just before your arms wind around his neck and you pepper him with kisses. He takes the ring and with a gentleness that makes your breath catch he slips it onto your left ring finger.

“I love you.”

Your words are a whisper, and he takes your hand in his, lifting it to his lips to kiss across your knuckles, then your palm and finally your wrist before your hand opens to cradle his cheek.

“I love you more,” he answers, closing his eyes.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Hiiiiiiii!!! I have a fluff requestttt. So Anakin comes home late, like super late. And the house is quiet, a little too quiet. Worried Anakin goes to the y/n and his room. She's not there. He hurried to the kids' room, and there's she's sleeping. Feeling guilty, Anakin carries y/n back to their room. She wakes up and them being super cute. Idk, it's a terrible and a little too simple request, but I'm dying to see fluff like that, and you're THE ONLY ONE who can write that😭😭

Author's note: I.LOVE.THIS. Nonnie, your mind is brilliant, don't tell me it's terrible, it's PERFECTION‼️ only I hope you'll like it cause I dunno.. :///

It was late.

Later than ANAKIN SKYWALKER had expected to be back home, so he wasn't surprised when all what met him was pure quietness and darkness of the first floor of your house. You'd often wait for him but now? He wasn't even sure if anyone was there.“Y/N?” he called softly after taking off his shoes

No response.

Checking all the rooms on the first floor and really making sure you weren't pulling on some scary-ass joke on him, he made his way through the house, up the stairs towards the bedroom, but when he finally pushed the wooden door open, the bed was empty.

He frowned.

A hint of worry settled in his heart.

He moved to the children's bedroom and gently cracked the door open before peeking inside. Eyes immediately softened at the sight before him. You, curled up in the little chair by the crib, your head resting against the edge, clearly fast asleep. The boy was sprawled in his crib, his twin sister next to him sleeping with tiny fingers wrapped around her favorite stuffed bear.

Mix of guilt and tenderness tugged at Anakin's chest. He carefully stepped inside, trying to be as quiet as a shadow, and stood beside you. The urge to just scoop you up in his arms was almost overwhelming, he felt obligated to do that. So with that, his large hand gently slid under your legs then one wrapped around your waist before he scooped you up and tried to quietly leave the room

He walked through the hall, just holding you like you were the most precious gift in his life (and let's be honest, you completely were). You stirred in his arms but hadn't wake yet, your face so relaxed in sleep.

Eyes fluttering open, seeing a familiar posture leaning over you “Annie?” you murmured

He leaned down, brushing a stray lock of hair that fallen over your forehead, before pressing his lips against that spot “Yeah, baby, it’s me. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. Just didn't want you to have a back pain later” he grinned in this too beautiful-for-this-hour way, fingers loosening his tie

You yawned, stretching a little before reaching up to lazily, tiredly wrap your arms around his neck, fingers stroking the short curls there. “You’re home so late,” you whispered, voice still heavy with slumber. “Everything okay? Did something happen at work?”

He smiled, “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just… missed you a lot today..” he simply replied, laying down on his side on the bed, pulling you near

You smiled sleepily up at him, eyes half-lidded before you let yourself nuzzle into his chest. “Missed you too,” you murmured.

Anakin brushed his lips against the top of your head “I’m home now,” hand finding the way to rest on your thigh - stroking so lovingly, purely "Tomorrow I'll take care of the kids, you just rest, love"

you sighed contentedly, face nuzzling to his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent “Good,” you whispered, barely keeping it all together to actually fall unconscious in sleep “I love you.”

Anakin smiled with affection. He gently pulled you closer, hand slipping beneath your chin to make you look up at him “I love you, too,” he whispered before capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssh1ne

[24galaxies]

My Home

Story line:- Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You’ve been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You’re a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Azriel x Reader

The crackling of the fireplace was the only sound that filled the sitting room. It should’ve been comforting—warmth wrapping around me like a favorite blanket—but tonight, it felt oppressive. Maybe it was because of him.

Azriel sat across from me, his form sharp and precise in the soft firelight, every inch of him exuding the kind of quiet power that left me breathless. As usual, his focus wasn’t on me. He was next to her—Elain Archeron. The golden one. The one with a mate.

I closed my book for the third time in as many minutes, unable to focus with the two of them so close. It wasn’t that they were doing anything inappropriate—Azriel wouldn’t, and Elain…well, she didn’t seem to notice his lingering looks. But I noticed. I always noticed.

I hated how it made me feel. A bitterness that lodged itself in my chest, turning my heart into something small and sharp. I wanted to tell myself it didn’t matter, that Azriel could love Elain if he wanted. But it wasn’t just love. It was something deeper. Something quieter.

And that made it worse.

I stole another glance, careful to keep my movements subtle. Elain was speaking to him, her voice soft and melodic. Whatever she said made Azriel smile—not a big, broad grin like Cassian’s, but a small, fleeting thing. I hated that I wanted to be the one to pull that smile from him.

“Y/N.”

The sound of my name snapped me out of my thoughts, and I looked up to find Azriel’s hazel eyes locked onto mine. My heart skipped, the intensity of his gaze startling me.

“You’re frowning,” he said, his voice low.

I blinked, scrambling to compose myself. “I’m not.”

“You are,” he insisted, tilting his head slightly. “Something wrong?”

It wasn’t fair. That look, that tone—like he cared. Like I was more than just a mortal girl who happened to land in their world.

“No,” I lied, forcing a smile. “Just tired.”

His gaze lingered, like he didn’t quite believe me, but then Elain spoke again, drawing his attention back to her.

And just like that, I was invisible again.

I didn’t stay in the room much longer. The fire was too warm, the tension too thick, and I needed air. Slipping outside, I welcomed the crisp night breeze that kissed my skin. Velaris was beautiful at night, the stars scattered across the sky like shards of silver.

It had been two months since I arrived here, and I still wasn’t sure if I belonged. Rhysand had insisted I was special, though I wasn’t sure what that meant. Mortals didn’t winnow, didn’t teleport from one place to another in the blink of an eye, but somehow I could. And no one—not even the High Lord himself—could explain why.

I let out a sigh, rubbing my arms as I wandered the gardens. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. Maybe I should’ve stayed in my world, where things were simple and I wasn’t caught up in…this.

The sound of footsteps startled me, and I turned to see Azriel standing a few feet away.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice quiet but steady.

I shook my head, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened at the sight of him. “Just needed some air.”

He didn’t move closer, but his presence alone was enough to fill the space between us. “You left in a hurry earlier.”

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Interrupt what?”

I glanced at him, biting my lip. “You and Elain.”

Something shifted in his expression—subtle but there. His shadows swirled around him, their movements restless.

“Elain and I…” He trailed off, as if searching for the right words. “It’s not what you think.”

“Really?” I challenged, folding my arms. “Because it looks pretty clear to me.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I cared for her. That she could be—” He stopped himself, his jaw tightening. “It doesn’t matter.”

I stepped closer, my chest tightening. “It does matter. You can’t just…pretend it doesn’t.”

Azriel’s gaze snapped to mine, sharp and intense. “Why do you care?”

The question caught me off guard, and I opened my mouth to respond, only to realize I didn’t have an answer I was ready to give.

“Forget it,” I muttered, turning away. “Goodnight, Azriel.”

I didn’t look back as I walked away, but I could feel his gaze burning into my back.

The tension between us only grew after that night. Azriel kept his distance, but there were moments—fleeting glances, accidental touches—that left my heart racing. It was maddening, this dance we were trapped in.

It wasn’t until Cassian suggested sparring that I found an outlet for my frustration. The training yard became my escape, a place where I could channel all the emotions swirling inside me.

“You’re getting better,” Cassian said, blocking my latest strike with a grin. “But you still telegraph your moves.”

I rolled my eyes, adjusting my stance. “Maybe you’re just predictable.”

Cassian laughed, lunging at me with renewed vigor. I barely managed to dodge his attack, stumbling as I tried to regain my footing.

“Careful,” he teased, winking. “Wouldn’t want Azriel to think I broke you.”

My cheeks flushed, and I glared at him. “Shut up, Cassian.”

“Make me,” he challenged, his grin widening.

Before I could respond, a voice cut through the air like a blade.

“Enough.”

Cassian and I both turned to see Azriel standing at the edge of the yard, his expression unreadable but his tone leaving no room for argument.

Cassian raised his hands in mock surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll leave you two alone.” He shot me a knowing look before sauntering off, and I resisted the urge to throw my sword at him.

Azriel approached slowly, his wings tucked tightly against his back. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said, brushing the dirt off my clothes.

He didn’t look convinced. “You shouldn’t push yourself so hard.”

“I can handle it,” I snapped, more sharply than I intended.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But then he took a step closer, his voice softening. “I know you can. But you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

My breath caught, his words hitting me harder than they should’ve.

“Why do you care?” I asked, echoing his question from that night in the garden.

Azriel didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped even closer, his hazel eyes locking onto mine.

“Because I see you,” he said quietly. “Even when you think no one else does.”

My chest tightened, and I opened my mouth to respond, but he closed the distance between us before I could say anything. His hand cupped my cheek, his touch warm and grounding, and then his lips were on mine.

The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant, but it quickly deepened, years of longing and restraint breaking like a dam. His shadows swirled around us, cocooning us in a world that was just ours.

When we finally pulled apart, Azriel rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he whispered. “I was afraid.”

I smiled, my hands tangling in the fabric of his shirt. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

For the first time since arriving in Velaris, I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be.

Over the next few weeks, everything shifted. Azriel and I found a rhythm, a quiet understanding that didn’t need words. He still had his shadows, his secrets, but he let me in, piece by piece.

Elain…she seemed to understand, too. There was no bitterness, no resentment—only a quiet acceptance that made me respect her even more.

As for me, I finally started to feel like I belonged. Rhysand’s court wasn’t just a place; it was a family, one I was proud to be part of.

And Azriel?

He was My Home.

[sabrinasopposite]

santa doesn’t know u like i do ⋆⁺₊❅。

clark kent x fem! reader

i’ve been there through the good and bad

know how to make you laugh

kiss all your tears away, babe

only I can do that

summary °❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ : its christmas eve in smallville and y/n can’t wait till tomorrow to give her self-made gift to clark kent.

The snow fell gently, blanketing Smallville in a shimmering hush, as though the world had been tucked into a silver-white quilt. Even the stars seemed to lean closer, curious to watch the scene unfold below. Y/N tugged her scarf tighter, her breath unfurling in soft clouds as she stepped lightly through the snow. Each crunch of her boots on the frosted path felt impossibly loud in the stillness, but her heart raced faster with every step, urging her forward.

When she reached Clark’s barn, the wooden door creaked softly as she pushed it open. A faint golden glow spilled out, illuminating the snow beneath her feet. Inside, the air was warm, infused with the scent of hay, woodsmoke, and something uniquely Clark—a comforting mixture of earthiness and calm.

Her gaze lifted to the loft, where light danced across the beams. She climbed the ladder carefully, peeking over the edge. The sight that greeted her made her heart skip a beat.

Clark was sprawled on a makeshift couch by the loft window, wrapped in a knitted blanket. A steaming mug of cocoa rested in his hand, and an open book lay balanced on his lap. The soft light made his features look impossibly gentle, his messy hair haloed by the glow. He looked like a painting—perfect and timeless.

At the creak of the ladder, he glanced up, his blue eyes widening for a moment before softening into a smile that warmed her more than the stove below.

“Y/N?” he said, setting his book aside. “What are you doing out here?”

“I...” She hesitated, her cheeks blooming pink. “I wanted to see you.” Her voice was soft, almost shy. “Merry Christmas, Clark.”

“Merry Christmas,” he replied, his smile growing. “But it’s freezing outside. You could’ve waited until tomorrow.”

Y/N laughed, the sound filling the space like the chime of distant bells. She reached under her coat and pulled out a small package, its crimson wrapping crinkling in her hands. “I couldn’t wait. I wanted to give you this.”

Clark raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a teasing grin as he accepted the gift. “And here I thought Santa was the one sneaking into barns at night.”

“Santa doesn’t knit scarves,” she retorted, crossing her arms in mock indignation before breaking into a laugh.

He unwrapped the package carefully, his fingers brushing over the soft red scarf inside. His grin softened into something tender as he held it up, running his thumb along the stitches. “You made this?”

She nodded, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. “I thought it might keep you warm up here. It’s not perfect, but—”

“It’s perfect,” he interrupted, already wrapping it around his neck. “I love it.”

Her heart swelled, and she looked down, pretending to straighten her coat to hide her smile. “I’m glad.”

Clark set his cocoa aside and walked to a small table tucked into the corner of the loft. From underneath it, he pulled out a box wrapped in silver ribbon. “Your turn,” he said, his tone a little more nervous now. “I, uh, didn’t know how to wrap this very well, but...” He trailed off, holding the box out to her.

Y/N took it, her fingers trembling slightly as she untied the ribbon. Inside, nestled against soft velvet, was a delicate necklace. The pendant was a heart, small and simple, but it seemed to shimmer with its own quiet light.

“Clark...” she whispered, her voice catching. “It’s beautiful.”

“It reminded me of you,” he said quickly, his cheeks tinged with a faint pink. “Something simple but... special. And full of love.” He scratched the back of his neck, his eyes flicking nervously to hers. “I just... wanted you to have it.”

Her eyes glistened as she looked up at him. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted gently, echoing her earlier words.

He stepped behind her, brushing her hair aside as he fastened the necklace around her neck. His fingers lingered on her skin for a moment longer than necessary, and when he stepped back, his eyes traced the way the pendant rested just above her heart.

“Something beautiful,” he said softly, “just like you.”

Y/N reached up to touch the pendant, feeling its weight, its meaning. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but they didn’t fall. Instead, she looked at him with all the love she felt, unable to find words big enough to hold it. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I love it.”

Clark’s expression melted into something impossibly tender, his voice low as he replied, “I love you.” He reached for her hands, threading his fingers through hers.

For a moment, they stood there, the world outside the barn fading into nothingness. The snow whispered against the roof, the stars glittering beyond the window, but all Y/N could feel was the warmth of Clark’s presence, the steady beat of love between them.

Then, with a sudden grin, Clark reached to the side and held up a sprig of mistletoe. “I figured I’d keep this handy,” he said, his voice playful but his gaze filled with affection.

Y/N laughed, her breath misting between them. “You really planned this, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” he teased, leaning closer. “But I’d call it good planning.”

Their lips met, soft and unhurried, a kiss that felt like the first brush of sunlight after a long winter. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a promise, warm and steady, that even the coldest nights couldn’t touch.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N rested her forehead against his, her voice a whisper. “Merry Christmas, Love.”

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart,” he replied, his voice as steady and full of warmth as the glow in his eyes. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

And as they settled back onto the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms, the barn seemed to hold its breath around them, cradling their love like a secret too precious to let go.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 merry (early) christmas to everyone! its my gift to u and i hope u like a clark kent!

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ taglist: @blackynsupremacy @alelo23

[lechrts]

Could’ve Fooled Me. ✷ Ollie Bearman

Pairing: Ollie Bearman x Schoolmate!reader

Summary: When Ollie does something “probably stupid.”

Word Count: 2.1k

Vera's Voice! this was so stupid not gonna lie. Jusr. Just read idk. Lmk. Bye. have fun.

Your dynamic with Ollie had always been a strange one. A mix of heated arguments and undeniable chemistry that made everyone around you raise an eyebrow.

He was infuriatingly confident, with that perpetual smirk like he already knew the answer to a question you hadn’t even asked yet.

You weren’t sure when your mutual distaste turned into something resembling... whatever this was. It wasn’t quite hatred anymore, but it wasn’t exactly a friendship either. It was more like a magnetic pull—one you both resisted fiercely.

Until, of course, you were paired for a history presentation.

So cliche.

“Fate’s a cruel thing,” You muttered under your breath the day your teacher announced the pairings.

Ollie shot you a grin as you plopped into the vacant seat beside him. “You know, if you wanted to spend more time with me, you could’ve just asked.”

You rolled your eyes, but the sharp pang in your chest at his teasing felt alarmingly like excitement.

It was supposed to be simple. You’d meet at his house, finish your slides, rehearse your presentation, and be done with it.

In and out, no distractions.

You stood outside his door, the chill December air biting at your fingertips as you hesitated. The nerves in your stomach were new, unsettling. It wasn’t like you hadn’t argued with Ollie a hundred times before. It wasn’t like you hadn’t sat next to him in class, stolen pens from his desk, or rolled your eyes at his sarcastic comments.

This just felt... different.

When he opened the door, wearing a plain sweatshirt and grey joggers, hair messy like he hadn’t bothered to tame it, you almost forgot how to speak.

“Are you gonna keep standing there, or are you coming in?” He asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Just soaking in the joy of this moment,” You replied sarcastically, stepping inside with mock dramatics.

When he led the way to his room, you were shocked to see how neat it was. It smelled faintly like him—some mix of cedarwood and mint that you hated how much you noticed. The space was tidy, a little more put together than you’d expected, with a sleek desk by the window and shelves lined with racing memorabilia.

“Wow,” You said, gesturing to the small shrine of karting trophies, back from when he still raced. “How modest of you.”

He smirked, sitting on his bed. “What can I say? I’m amazing.”

“And humble.”

“And humble,” He echoed, grinning.

You rolled your eyes, plopping down on the carpeted floor next to his bed and pulling your laptop out of your bag.

“Alright,” You said briskly, needing to focus. “Let’s get this over with.”

But working with Ollie was, as expected, impossible.

You closed your eyes, counting to three.

Do not murder him in his own home.

Do not murder him in his own home.

Do NOT. murder him in his own home.

“Fine. You pick the font,” You said, shoving the laptop toward him since he had been pestering you about the title screen for the past ten minutes.

“Gladly.”

He leaned over, now sat beside you ever since he joined you on the floor many moments ago. You hated the way your heart jumped when his arm brushed against yours. It wasn’t even a full touch, just the faintest contact, but it sent a ripple of awareness through you.

“So!,” He said after a moment, his voice annoyingly casual, “Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you,” You said automatically, though it came out a little sharper than intended.

He glanced at you, one brow raised. “Yeah, right.”

You sighed, focusing on the textbook in front of you to avoid looking at him. “You’re just...distracting.”

“Distracting?” He repeated, his tone shifting. He leaned back slightly, but you could still feel the weight of his gaze. “How am I distracting?”

“Because you never take anything seriously,” You said quickly, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “You joke about everything. It’s like nothing gets to you, and it’s—”

“It’s what?” He pressed, his voice softer now.

“Annoying.”

He didn’t respond right away, and the silence stretched, thick and heavy. When you finally glanced up, he was watching you with an intensity that made your stomach flip.

“What?” You asked defensively, suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing,” He said, leaning back against his bed. His smirk was gone, replaced by something unreadable. “You’re just....”

He shook his head, looking almost embarrassed. “Never mind.”

Your chest felt tight, like the air between you had shifted into something you couldn’t name. You tried to shake it off, focusing back on the slides, but it was no use.

When you reached for your pen, he reached for it at the same time. Your fingers brushed, and you both froze.

Neither of you moved, the air suddenly crackling with tension. His hand was warm, his touch hesitant but lingering.

“Um.. ” He said quietly, his voice lower than usual, clearing his throat as if he had something to say.

Your heart was pounding, so loud you were sure he could hear it. “Hm?”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Do you really think I don’t take anything seriously?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean it,” He said, his voice steady now. “Do you actually think I don’t care about anything?”

The vulnerability in his tone took you by surprise. You hesitated, then shook your head. “No. I just think... you hide it. Behind all the cockiness and idiocy.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, his eyes searched yours, like he was trying to figure something out.

And then, suddenly, his hand was on yours again—not hesitant this time, but deliberate.

“Um.” You cleared your throat. “What are you doing?” You whispered, your voice shaky.

“Probably something stupid,” He murmured, and before you could respond, his lips were on yours.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was everything you’d been holding back since the day you met him—frustration, anger, and all the butterflies you refused to admit you felt. His hand cupped your cheek, pulling you closer, and your brain short-circuited as the world tilted on its axis.

You kissed him back, your fingers tangling in his hair before you could think better of it. It was messy, intense, infuriatingly perfect.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, the rosiness on both of your cheeks clearly evident.

“That,” You managed, voice shaky, “Was definitely stupid.”

“Yeah?” He said, grinning despite the pink tint to his features. “Then why’d you kiss me back?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came.

Because he was right. And, worse, he knew it.

You sat there, blinking at him, your brain still catching up to what had just happened. Ollie was looking at you like he’d won something—smirking, flushed, and utterly insufferable.

“Well?” He asked, his voice annoyingly smug. “No witty comeback? No insult? Should I be concerned?”

You narrowed your eyes, shaking off the daze. “I’m just... processing the fact that you have the audacity to act like you weren’t the one who kissed me.”

“Oh, I absolutely kissed you,” He said, confidently admitting it as he straightened his posture, “But you kissed me back…”

“With enthusiasm, might I add.”

You scoffed, though your cheeks were burning. “You’re delusional.”

“Am I?” He leaned closer, his smirk widening. “Because I’m pretty sure you had your hands in my hair. Very passionately..”

“That doesn’t mean I wanted to kiss you!” You argued, pointing at him.

He tilted his head, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Right. You were just being polite. Kissing me back to avoid hurting my feelings?”

“Exactly,” You said, chin tilting up. “It was a momentary lapse in judgment. A... reflex.”

“Hmm,” He mused, clearly not buying it. He tapped a finger on his lips, pretending to think. “So, if I kissed you again, purely as an experiment, you wouldn’t kiss me back?”

Your stomach flipped at the way he said again, but you refused to let him see it. “Exactly. No hesitation. I’d push you away immediately.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning closer still. “Immediately?”

You hated how his voice dropped, soft and teasing, like he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on you.

“Yeah,” You said firmly, though the word came out weaker than you intended.

His eyes flicked to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze. “Prove it.”

“What?”

“Prove it,” He repeated, his voice low and challenging. “If you’re so sure you wouldn’t kiss me back, let’s test your little theory.”

Your breath hitched as the space between you seemed to shrink. “Your ego is insane.”

“Maybe,” He said, grinning, “But, you still haven’t moved.”

And damn it, he was right.

You hadn’t moved.

In fact, you were leaning in ever so slightly, your resolve crumbling under the weight of his presence.

“Ollie,” You said, your voice more a warning than anything else.

“Hm?,” He hummed back, and then he kissed you again.

This time, you had no excuse. No reflex, no momentary lapse in judgment. You kissed him back because you wanted to—because, for once, you didn’t want to fight it.

But you weren’t about to let him have the last word.

When you broke apart, his hands still framing your face, you couldn’t help but smirk at him. “Happy now?”

He let out a breathless laugh, resting his forehead against yours. “Very.”

“Well, don’t get used to it,” You said, pulling back slightly.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m definitely getting used to it.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re a terrible liar,” He shot back, brushing a thumb along your jawline.

You swatted his hand away, though your heart was still racing. “This doesn’t mean anything, you idiot.”

“Sure,” he said, his tone so casual it made you want to throttle him. “It’s just two people who hate each other making out in my bedroom. Totally meaningless.”

“It was meaningless.”

“Right.” His grin was maddening. “That’s why you’re still blushing.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I hate you so much.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You just kissed me,” He reminded you.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t hate you!”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You glared at him, but it was no use. The butterflies in your stomach betrayed you, fluttering wildly every time he smiled at you like that.

“Well,” You said finally, attempting to stand up and closing your laptop, “This has been a colossal waste of time. I’m leaving.”

“Oh, no, you’re not,” Ollie said, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back down. “You’re not running away from this.”

“I’m not running away!”

“Then stay.”

You hesitated, your pulse quickening. “Why should I?”

“Because,” he said, his voice softening in a way that made your heart ache, “I like you. Even when you drive me absolutely insane.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in.

You wanted to argue, to deflect with some sarcastic remark, but the sincerity in his eyes stopped you.

“Fine,” You said after a long moment, your voice barely above a whisper. “But only because we still have work to do.”

His grin returned, but it was softer this time, more genuine. “Sure. Work.”

You straightened back up, opening your laptop and pretending to focus on the screen, but you could feel Ollie’s gaze burning into you. He leaned against the edge of his bed, his smirk far too knowing.

Far too confident.

And then, after a few moments of tense silence, you sighed and closed your laptop with a sharp snap.

“Hm,” Ollie drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. “Giving up already?”

You shot him a look, your heart pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it. “We both know we’re not getting any work done tonight.”

His smirk faltered for a second, replaced by something softer, something that made your breath hitch. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice low.

Before you could overthink it, his hand cupped your jaw, pulling you toward him. And then his lips were on yours again, and this time there was no hesitation, no awkward fumbling.

It was pure, unrelenting gravity.

You kissed him back again, with everything you had, your fingers finding the back of his neck, pulling him closer until there was no space left between you. He tasted like spearmint gum and something undeniably him, something you couldn’t get enough of.

Ollie’s hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, like he couldn’t stand the distance. Your heart raced.

“You’re ridiculous,” You mumbled against his lips, barely able to catch your breath.

He grinned, his forehead resting against yours. “And you’re impossible.”

“And yet, here we are,” You shot back, your voice breathless but still laced with defiance.

“Here we are,” He echoed, his fingers brushing along your jaw before tilting your head back for another kiss. This one was slower, deeper, like he was taking his time memorizing every detail.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew this was a terrible idea. But in that moment, with Ollie’s lips on yours and his hands keeping you grounded, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

When you finally pulled away, your lips swollen and your heart pounding, you stared at him. He looked just as dazed as you felt, his hair slightly tousled, his lips red from kissing.

“Yeah,” You said, breaking the silence, “We’re definitely failing.”

Ollie laughed, his smile so wide and genuine it made your stomach flip. “Worth it.”

You groaned, dropping your head back and covering your face with your hands. “This is such a mess.”

He laughed, tugging your hands away so you had to look at him. “Maybe,” He said, his tone softer now, “But, it’s a good kind of mess.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Your idiot, maybe,” He teased, leaning down to steal one last kiss before you could argue.

“Oh, hush it.” You laughed as the antics continued anyways.

And even though you would never admit it, you didn’t really mind whatever this was.

Could’ve fooled you.

likes, comments, & reblogs appreciated! ^_^ let me know if u wanna be apart of my permanent tag list!!! :3

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress

[s4kura-tr3]

Megumi fushiguro — birthday special!

Megumi Fushiguro was not one for grand celebrations or loud parties. If anything, he preferred to keep his birthday low-key, maybe even let it slip by unnoticed. But you weren’t about to let that happen—not this year.

You knew Megumi well enough to understand that he didn’t want a big fuss. So instead, you planned something simple, thoughtful, and just for the two of you.

The morning started quietly. You woke up earlier than usual, careful not to disturb him as you slipped out of bed. Megumi was still sleeping soundly, his dark hair a mess, his face peaceful. Smiling to yourself, you tiptoed out of the room and into the kitchen.

First on your agenda was breakfast. You prepared his favorites—fluffy pancakes with a hint of vanilla, fresh fruit on the side, and his usual cup of coffee, just the way he liked it. You even lit a single candle and stuck it in the stack of pancakes for a small celebratory touch.

When everything was ready, you carried the tray into the bedroom and gently nudged him awake.

“Megumi,” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

He stirred, blinking up at you in confusion before his eyes landed on the tray in your hands. “What’s this?”

“Happy birthday,” you said, grinning.

He sat up, his gaze flickering between the pancakes and your face. A faint flush crept up his cheeks. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“Of course I did,” you replied, setting the tray down on the bed. “It’s your birthday. You deserve to be spoiled a little.”

He huffed, but there was no hiding the small smile tugging at his lips as he picked up his fork.

After breakfast, you handed him a small gift. It was nothing extravagant—just a new book you knew he’d been wanting to read and a framed photo of the two of you from one of your recent outings.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said, but the way his fingers lingered on the frame told you he appreciated it.

“It’s nothing big,” you said with a shrug. “But I wanted you to have something special.”

He glanced at you, his dark blue eyes soft. “Thank you.”

The rest of the day was all about doing things Megumi enjoyed. You took a quiet walk in the park with him, Louis trotting happily beside you. You brought lunch from his favorite spot, and the two of you had a mini picnic under a shady tree.

In the afternoon, you gave him space to read and relax, knowing how much he valued his alone time. But when evening rolled around, you had one final surprise waiting for him.

You led him to the rooftop of your apartment building, where you’d set up a cozy little spot with fairy lights, blankets, and cushions. There was a simple dinner waiting—his favorite homemade dish, along with a small cake you’d baked.

“This is… a lot,” Megumi said, his voice quieter than usual as he took it all in.

“Too much?” you asked, suddenly second-guessing yourself.

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “It’s perfect.”

The two of you ate under the stars, the city lights twinkling in the distance. After dinner, you lit the candles on the cake and sang a soft “Happy Birthday,” much to his embarrassment.

“Make a wish,” you said, smiling as you held the cake out to him.

He stared at the candles for a moment before blowing them out.

“What’d you wish for?” you asked teasingly.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to ask that,” he replied, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Fair enough,” you said, laughing.

As the night wore on, the two of you sat side by side, wrapped in a shared blanket. Megumi was quieter than usual, but his hand found yours, his fingers lacing with yours in a rare display of affection.

“Thank you,” he said suddenly, his voice soft.

“For what?”

“For everything,” he said, glancing at you. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble. But… it means a lot.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, smiling. “You’re worth it, Megumi. Happy birthday.”

For once, he didn’t argue or downplay your words. Instead, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his way of saying everything he couldn’t put into words.

[daryltwdixon]

hey! i have a request :) could you do daryl x fem reader who sings? she has never been too open about her singing but when she’s alone she’s singing all the time/humming to herself around others. she’s had a crush on him for a while but hasn’t been able to do anything about it because she’s not sure if he feels the same. but he hears her singing when she didn’t notice he was there and it sparks something <3

Daryl x Reader fluff

thank you so much for the request! I'm sorry I literally blanked on every cute folk song I've ever heard so I settled for this one that I hold dear to my heart from a trip I took to England. Hope this is kind of what you were hoping for!

here is the song

The sun dips low over the tree line surrounding the Greene farm, painting the sky in hues of deep orange and purple. For the first time since the world turned upside down, you feel something like ease. The farm is undeniably beautiful, a serene homestead somehow tucked away from the horrors beyond its borders.

You’re perched on the porch railing, a pair of knitting needles clicking softly in your hands as you work on a pair of woolen socks. Knitting had started as a hobby but quickly became a necessity when you realized just how unforgiving winter would be without the simple comforts of central heating and the yearly down coat you used to take for granted. Now, it’s your quiet mission to make sure everyone has warm socks before the temperature drops.

Knitting is a simple, repetitive task—one that keeps your hands busy but leaves your mind free to wander. Without even thinking, a soft melody escapes your lips. It’s a tune that’s always been stowed in the back of your mind, rising to the surface when the world around you feels still, or when you’re caught in the rhythm of something as peaceful as this.

mmm I want to linger,

mmm, a little longer

mmm, a little longer here with you

Between the steadiness of your needles and the soft melody humming from your lips, you don’t notice the figure standing on the steps until his boots creak against the top of the porch.

You nearly drop the fabric in your lap when you glance up and see Daryl Dixon, his blue eyes flickering with something you can’t quite place beneath his usual surly expression.

“S-sorry,” you stammer, gripping the knitting needles tighter. “Didn’t hear you comin’.”

He shrugs, a small, nonchalant motion, but his hand lifts to his mouth, the skin of his thumb settling between his teeth. It’s a gesture you’ve seen before, one you’ve come to recognize as his ‘thinking’ face. You hesitate, unsure whether to keep knitting or set it aside.

Daryl’s presence always leaves you off balance. There’s something about the quiet way he moves through the world—intimidating, yes, but also magnetic. You’re never sure how to act around him, but that hasn’t stopped you from wanting to be near him. Despite the brooding air and glowering gaze, you’ve caught glimpses of something softer beneath the surface.

“Don’t gotta stop ‘cause a’me,” he grumbles, his voice low, half-muffled behind his hand.

Your face grows warm under the weight of his gaze, and you quickly avert your eyes, focusing on the fabric in your lap, fumbling with it. “Oh, uh… it’s fine. I was gonna turn in soon anyway,” you mumble.

“You’re always singin’,” he says after a beat, his tone quiet. You can’t tell if it’s meant as a criticism or just an observation, but it catches you off guard all the same.

Your fingers pause over the fabric, smoothing the soft wool as you bite your lip. “I… I didn’t think anyone noticed,” you admit, barely above a whisper.

Daryl exhales sharply through his nose, a sound that’s somewhere between a sigh and a huff. He shifts on his feet, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him turn and make his way toward the rocking chair by the door.

You glance up, watching as he sets his crossbow down against the wall. Without a word, he settles into the chair with a kind of casual ease that only Daryl Dixon could make look both restless and deliberate. He leans forward, pulling one of his arrows free from the quiver, and begins sharpening the tip with his knife. The rhythmic scrape of metal on wood fills the silence.

“Well,” he grunts after a moment when he sees you still staring, looking up from his work, “go on then.”

Your brows knit together, caught off guard by his words. “Go on with… what?”

He spares you a brief glance, his knife stilling for a second before he returns to his task. “Singin’. Ain’t botherin’ me none.”

The heat in your face deepens, and you laugh softly, more out of nervousness than anything else. “I don’t really sing. Not, like, for people.”

“Ain’t askin’ for a concert,” he mutters, his voice gruff but not unkind. His attention fixes on the arrow in his hands then, but there’s something in the way he said it—something almost… expectant.

You hesitate, your fingers still fidgeting with the wool in your lap. The thought of singing with him sitting so close makes your chest feel tight, but the idea that he noticed, that he cared enough to listen, sparks something warm inside you.

After a long pause, you swallow your nerves and begin to hum a few soft notes, your voice barely audible over the sound of his knife scraping against the arrow. It’s tentative at first, shaky, but when he doesn’t react—just keeps sharpening his arrow with that same quiet intensity—you feel brave enough to let the melody take shape once again.

mmm, it's such a perfect night

mmm, it doesn't seem quite right

mmm, that it should be my last with you

The porch settles into an odd kind of harmony: the soft cadence of your voice mingling with the steady rhythm of his knife, your knitting needles back to work with a deliberate cadence. You steal a glance at him every so often, and for the first time, you notice the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly. The world beyond the farm seems to fall away, leaving only the two of you under the fading light of the evening.

You let the melody flow, one note slipping into another, your voice growing steadier. There’s something about having Daryl nearby—his quiet presence—that makes you feel… safe. Like you don’t need to worry about being too loud, or drawing too much attention, because he’s there.

mmm, and as the years go by

mmm, I'll think of you and sigh

mmm, this is goodnight and not goodbye

Eventually, you glance over again, expecting to find him still sharpening his arrow, but instead, you freeze. His knife and arrow rest forgotten in his lap, and he’s sitting back in the chair, his arms crossed loosely in front of him as he chews his lip. His gaze is fixed on you, steady and warm, with a softness you’ve never seen from him before.

Your breath catches in your throat. “What?” you ask, your voice quieter now, almost uncertain.

He doesn’t look away, doesn’t flinch or fumble for words like he sometimes does when he’s caught off guard. “Nothin’,” he says, his tone low and even. But the way he says it, the way his gaze lingers, it feels like more.

Your fingers tighten around the knitting needles still in your lap as you hold his stare, your heart beating louder than it should.

“You’re starin’,” you manage, a small, nervous laugh escaping you.

“Maybe,” he admits, the corner of his mouth tugging into the faintest hint of a smirk.

The continued warmth in his gaze sparks something in your chest, and for a moment, you feel like the air around you has shifted. You’ve seen Daryl angry, guarded, even awkward—but this? This is different. He’s not looking away, not retreating behind the usual walls you’ve come to expect. He’s just… watching you, like he’s really seeing you for the first time.

Neither of you say anything right away, but the silence doesn’t feel uncomfortable. It’s heavy in a way that makes you hyper-aware of the space between you, of the way his eyes stay on yours, steady and unflinching.

Finally, your lips tug into a small smile, letting out a sigh. He shifts forward, brushing his hand against the arrow he’d set aside. “You’re good at it,” he mutters, his voice low, like he’s not used to saying the words.

“Knitting?” you tease, trying to cut the tension with a little humor.

He lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head. “Singin’,” he says. “Ain’t just hummin’. You sound...nice.”

The sincerity in his tone makes your stomach flip, and your cheeks flush with heat. “Thanks,” you say softly, your voice more even than you expect.

The cool breeze nips at your skin, but you hardly notice, warmth spreading in your chest. There’s a look in his eyes—soft, almost contemplative—that makes your breath catch.

“Guess we should head in ‘fore it gets colder.” he says gruffly, as if remembering himself.

You nod, gathering your half finished socks and needles as you follow him toward the door. As you step inside, you can’t help but feel like something shifted tonight, something small but important. And for the first time, you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he feels it too.

[luvleyshif4]

LOST IN TRANSLATION

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: it’s hard to talk to someone American when you don’t know English….so what happens when you meet an American boy who doesn’t know your language either…now you’re stuck with An unexpected meeting, unspoken words, and a connection that lingers…

Warnings: language barriers, reader is Italian, reader doesn’t know English, reader is a barista, tiny bit of awkwardness, based in Florence, possibly mispronunciation of the Italian language, a bit of anxiety (doesn’t have a lot of serious warnings)

Word count: 1.04k words

Authors note: hey guys!! just so you know, I don’t speak Italian at all so there is a possibility that I might have mispronounced the Italian I used in the story, but I really liked writing this one. I was watching a movie the other day and I kind of got the idea from that. hope y’all like it!!! (I want this to happen to me..)

The café in the middle of Florence was quieter than usual today, and the stillness only made the air feel heavier. You shifted behind the counter, the familiar hum of the coffee machine and the soft clink of cups the only sound filling the space. There was a certain unease growing in the pit of your stomach as you worked.

Today, you were alone, with your friend not coming in for their shift. It wasn’t the first time, but it always made you nervous. You were still new at this job, still figuring out the flow, and not being able to rely on someone else was making it a bit harder than usual.

You sighed quietly, trying to shake off the anxiety. It wasn’t like anyone was going to walk in and make things worse, right?

Then, the bell above the door jingled, and your eyes lifted instinctively.

A man walked in. His presence was undeniable—a tall, buzzed-haired figure with striking blue eyes that seemed to hold a spark of something you couldn’t place. He moved with confidence, his gaze sweeping the room, and when it landed on you, it felt like everything else in the café faded into the background. You weren’t sure why, but something about him made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t felt that way before, and it was a bit unsettling. Still, you tried not to let it show as you greeted him.

“Ciao, benvenuto! Cosa posso offrirti oggi?”(Hello, welcome! What can I offer you today?)

He didn’t immediately respond, and after a brief pause, you noticed the slight furrow of his brow. He was looking at you, but you could see the confusion in his eyes. Slowly, he opened his mouth, and his voice was thick with an accent, “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Italian…. Do you speak English?”

Your stomach tightened. Of course, you had already guessed he didn’t speak Italian, but hearing it out loud only made the weight of your nerves feel heavier. You quickly nodded, offering a small smile. “Un po’ di inglese,”( a little English,) you said, your voice shaking just a little. “Not much…”

He looked at you for a moment longer, as though deciding whether to press on. Then, he smiled softly. “No problem,” he said in English, though it was clear that even his words came with some difficulty. “Uhhh… Uno cappuccino?”

You nodded quickly, feeling a small sense of relief that the order was something familiar. “Cappuccino,” you said, trying to keep things simple. The rest was up to you, though. You could make the coffee, but the conversation would be a bit more challenging.

As you began preparing the cappuccino, you could feel his gaze on you. It was like a weight on your skin, but not an uncomfortable one. It was as if he was taking in every small movement you made, and your cheeks flushed under the intensity of it. You tried to focus on the task at hand, but the way he looked at you made it hard to concentrate.

When you hold the cappuccino in front of him, your fingers brushed against his as he took it from your hand, you quickly pulled your hand away, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. He seemed to notice and offered you a gentle shy smile.

You glanced up at him, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest. He looked down at the drink, then back at you. “I—uh, I don’t speak Italian very well,” he said again, breaking the silence, “but You….you’re really beautiful…..” he said, his English slow and deliberate, the words lingering in the air.

You blinked, unsure of what he meant.

you didn’t fully understand his words so You tilted your head, unsure how to respond, your nerves coming back tenfold.

He noticed your confusion and chuckled lightly. There was a certain warmth to it, though. He pointed at the small flowerpot sitting on the counter beside you, then back at you, his gaze lingering on your face. “You,” he said, “like this. Beautiful.”

You followed his finger and then looked back at him, finally understanding what he meant. He had compared you to the bright, delicate flowers in the pot, and for some reason, that comparison made your heart race even more. You weren’t sure how to react, but a small shy smile tugged at your lips, and your face flushed redder than before.

“Grazie…”(thank you…) you said quietly, trying to keep your voice steady. The simple word felt like the only thing you could say in that moment.

He smiled, his expression softening, and there was something in his eyes and the way he too had a rosy tint to his cheeks that made your heart flutter all over again.

The moment stretched for a beat, before he cleared his throat and reached into his pocket. He handed you the money for the cappuccino, and you quickly took it, your fingers brushing his once more. He took a step back and nodded.

“I should go,” he said, though there was a hesitation in his voice. “Maybe… I’ll see you again….”

You nodded, a quiet smile still lingering on your lips. “Ciao,” you said softly.

“Ciao…” he says as he gave you one last smile, a lingering glance before turning and heading toward the door. The bell above the door jingled again as he stepped out, and you stood there for a moment, heart still racing.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, still trying to make sense of the brief but undeniably impactful interaction. There was something about him, something you couldn’t put into words, that made your day feel like it had changed in an instant.

You glanced at the cappuccino machine for a moment, lost in thought, before you shook yourself out of it. Stop thinking, you told yourself. You’d barely spoken more than a few sentences to him.

But maybe, just maybe, you’d see him again…

Authors note: this is honestly so cute that I feel like writing another part to it, but let me know If yall like it and if I should write another part!!!

[anotherwriternamedclara]

happy birthday, megumi! hbd to our sea urchin king ilysm :D<3 | wc: 322 | non sorcerer au i think?? also yn loves christmas and balloons very very very much

Megumi had thought you’d forgotten his birthday.

With Christmas coming up, you were so preoccupied with the holiday – decorating the apartment, buying presents, baking Christmas cookies. It was your favorite holiday, after all, and Megumi didn’t want to add another weight to your shoulders. Just a few days ago he had seen you crying over a spoiled batch of cookies. Although he held you and brushed the tears out of your eyes and baked another batch with you, he couldn’t help but think you had enough to deal with already. His birthday would just be something else to worry about.

Imagine his surprise when he woke up that morning and saw the decorations you had put up for his birthday.

It wasn’t much, really. You knew that he liked to keep things simple, so you did just that. Silver balloons hung from the ceiling, spelling out HAPPY BIRTHDAY MEGUMI! A chocolate cake was cooling on the nightstand. Another HAPPY BIRTHDAY MEGUMI! was written in icing on top, with red hearts around his name (which made him blush a little). Two balloon dogs were leaning against his bed – one white, and one black, matching the two dogs fast asleep on the nearby dog bed.

Sure, he had heard you blowing balloons during the night, but he assumed it was for more Christmas decorations. After all, you weren’t above hanging mistletoe everywhere it was physically possible (and it’s not like he was going to complain, as he was enjoying all the kisses he was receiving from you).

Megumi gazed at your sleeping figure, still passed out beside him on the bed. He leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead. How could he have ever thought you, the love of his life, would ever forget his birthday? Even without you awake at this moment, he already felt like the luckiest man in the world. He knew it would be his best birthday yet.

a/n: pretend it's still dec 22. i'm not late. i swear. also i really do not like this fic but that's because it was very rushed 💔 so sorry megumi i know you deserve better pookie 😭 i WILL write a really good really fire megumi fic i promise!! just wait. ily all if you read this i'm kissing you on the mouth 💗💗

[xxsycamore]

╰┈➤ It’s Halloween night at the Crown caste, and you’re looking for some fun.

- William, Harrison, Liam, Elbert, Alfons, Jude, Ellis, Roger, Victor, Ring, Nica, Darius x f!reader

[ ◄ PART 1 ] - ◉ PART 2 - [ PART 3 ►]

• rating: 🔞 E (MDNI) • tags: Monsterfucking; Human/Monster; Mythical Beings & Creatures; Manipulation; Mildly Dubious Consent; Curse play; Non-Human Genitalia; Anonymous Sex; Masquerades; Creampie; Vaginal Sex; Size Difference; Size Kink; Power Dynamics; Power Imbalance; Power Play; Corruption; Multiple Orgasms; Dom/sub; Fondling; Manhandling; Near Death Experiences; Adrenaline; Flying Sex; Predator/Prey; Tail Sex; Tail Play; Possessive Behavior; Cervix Penetration; Oviposition; Eggpreg; Breeding; Unplanned Pregnancy • wordcount:  3,264 • masterlist

a/n: I got this idea for a story that is similar to Nine Nights, but without any plot or continuity between the different parts whatsoever. Unless, of course, you want to imagine that all of these take place one after another (poor Reader)... Monsterfucking is a new territory for me, so please bear with me. Once again, I tried leaving you with enough hints about who is who and I hope you can have fun guessing them lol

Dubcon warning: The reader seeks out physical intimacy on her own from the very beginning, however, some suitors use their curses' abilities on her without her being aware of it.

NEW: I made a playlist for this fic! It consists of 12 songs, one for each scenario. Enjoy <3

VISIONS OF TEMPTATION 2024/ KINKTOBER DAY 31: Non-human characters/traits

❝ MONSTER VILLAINS' NIGHT. ❞ (PART 2)

V. A fearful Demon King

"You're doing such a good job, little one. Keep rising and falling on me."

Dark shadows enfold the throne upon which the Demon King sits, with you seated on his large cock, steadily fucking yourself on it. His power is great and fearsome, making you dizzy when you try to look into the blurry memory of where you were just a handful of minutes ago or how it all led to this. You just know that if you were given the chance to go back, you'd still choose the same fate.

"Haaah… It's so big! I can't go any faster, my Lord… nghhh…."

From the moment you came to understand that the powerful being has chosen you to service him, you felt far more honored than scared. It all changed when he revealed his monstrous cock to you. With its shiny onyx-colored base and angry red head, mirroring the coloration of the twin horns on top of the Demon King's head, what intimidated you most was the girth of it. You were sure you wouldn't be able to fit something the width of your fist inside you, and you expressed those concerns to your Lord through a series of pathetic sobs, not failing to show him how much you wish you could, of course.

Then he did something unexplainable yet very simple at the same time. He used his clawed hand - the limb elegant despite its inhumanly size and black color - the pointy tip of his blood-red claw tipped your chin upwards so you could meet his demonic gaze. Looking into his crimson irises made all your hesitation go away in a flash, and suddenly you knew it was going to be alright.

Next thing you knew, you were piercing yourself on his length, letting it stretch you open and ruin you for everyone else. Not that it matters, you belong to your Lord now - the way he caves a room for himself inside you, you can only feel that he owns you now, body and mind.

The fluids seeping from his bulbous head acted like a lubricant that made your tight hole accommodate him bit by bit until he was all the way in, and you could only writhe in pleasure and haphazardly stroke your clit as the orgasms overcame you one after the other. The fear of doing something so indecent and selfish without his permission made you snap out of it, but your lord only kept the smirk on his face, encouraging you to keep going.

Even now that you've just let him know that the big intrusion inside you is preventing you from speeding up, he seems to be relaxing back in his throne, contently watching you struggle on your own. Your boldness grows with the need to push yourself over the edge in yet another orgasm, and while doing so, you reach for the black, curved horns on top of his head. You're clearly out of your mind to be doing that, so you search for his gaze that will decide your fate for you.

"I allow it."

A moan rips out of your throat, followed by a dozen blabby and brainless thank-you's. The new leverage works in your favor as you spasm and gush around the red-black appendage inside you, feeling it further stretching your walls on every rise and fall of your hips.

Without any awareness of the passage of time, it seems like you've been lost in this euphoric trance for an eternity before he finally grows bored of your pace. The demonic hand that he previously propped up his chin with is now snaking its way down your little human body, having a delectable taste of your soft parts with a squeeze there and there, before finally settling on your waist. His other hand joins too, and suddenly you have no power over your own movements - he grounds you to his lap easily, making you take his cock all the way in, before starting to move you up and down on his own will.

You feel light in his hold, your brain clearing out of any remaining thoughts that you previously had to keep into, when something still depended on you. The new wave of pleasure you're granted is stronger than anything you've felt, and you can only hear the obscene sounds of sticky fluids leaking from the place you're connected, your body locked in an eternal state of climax.

The last thing you feel is an overwhelming fullness deep in your womb that seems to go on forever, before you're finally settled down on the powerful being's torso, a clawed hand stroking the underside of your chin as your consciousness slips away.

VI. A deceitful Angel

The man dressed all in white has been standing out from the crowd all throughout the night, but he's even more remarkable now up close, you must admit. While he talks to you with his harmonically sweet voice, all you can focus on is the way his skin seems to glow under the scarce light of the eerily decorated hall. He's quite friendly, his golden eyes warm and inviting, as he suggests exploring the stairs to the roof of the castle.

You think nothing of it, sneaking off with him like a pair of juveniles as his laughter rings through the narrow spiral staircase. The night sky becomes a beautiful backdrop to his figure, and soon you're enamored enough of him to confess with a little chuckle that he looks like an angel. He gives you a mysterious smile, putting a slender finger in front of his lips, and in the next second a beautiful pair of wings spread wide on his back.

You're mesmerized by the sight, not believing your eyes - the angel-like stranger seems to be reading your mind at that moment because he evidently wants to show you just how real they are.

Namely, by pulling you by the hand where he stands at the edge of the rooftop, making you fall forward ontop of him, and right off the edge.

Your scream is sincere as you rapidly approach the ground, eyes squeezing shut as you say goodbye to your life, but the inevitable impact never comes. Instead, you're airborne, carried on the wings of the now laughing stranger who gave you the scare of your life. He never struck you as someone so cruel, but just as you're about to conclude he's no angel, you're given an even bigger reason to think that way. His wings suddenly strip their white color, feathers darkening as if covered by tar, until they become completely black.

"Are you enjoying the flight? I'd say the world looks far better from above. But we can make the sight even more enjoyable."

The sweet voice whispers those words close enough to your ear to send shivers, as you have no choice but to cling to him for dear life. His hands are free while yours are locked tightly around his neck, and he puts them to good use, moving them down your body and under the layers of fabric, baring you little by little.

"Ahh-Why-"

"Why not? You said that I'm an angel, didn't you? Maybe I just want to show you what heaven feels like, little bird."

If he's an angel, he's for sure a fallen one; someone like him has surely been punished for committing a despicable sin. Yet you can't help but moan at the way you're manhandled in the air, placed over his hot length, as it penetrates you in one long, slow thrust.

"Ahhhh! Nghh!"

You've never been in such a position, feeling so powerless but also feeling so good, your weight naturally falling on his cock with every flap of his wings. The celestial being cradles you close, giving you yet another illusion that he's being generous while in truth just using you for his own pleasure, a warm and tight sleeve to manipulate up and down in the air as he sees fit. Looking down makes you dizzy, as he practically holds your life in his hands, and you will yourself to concentrate on the growing pleasure that inevitably comes with the ordeal he puts you through, one that is greater than anything you've felt before. If you make it out alive, you'll remember it for the rest of your life.

"Aren't you enjoying this a lot, hmm? Don't you want to soar in the skies with me forever? How delightful will it be if you grew a pair of wings of your own, right here?"

He trails a deft finger across your back, dragging it upwards, right between your shoulder blades. It coincides with the fire inside you engulfing you to the point of no return, and you come undone on his cock, clinging to the body keeping you safe.

"It will hurt a little, but it will be all worth it. Don’t you want it? To help create a beautiful world by my side?"

As the angelic laughter rings in your ears, you feel a gush of liquid shoot inside you, and you begin to wonder why his offer seems so tempting at this very moment.

VII. A ferocious Minotaur

Going out in the garden for some fresh air shouldn't necessarily entail getting lost in the hedge maze, yet here you are.

As you turn yet another corner, fighting off the surprise of discovering a new dead end, you tell yourself that getting out of here can’t be that hard. Luckily the party is not ending any time soon, so maybe no one will notice your absence while you're on your own impromptu adventure. You won't speak of it afterward, that's for sure.

However, there's something entirely different that's been bothering you as you walk through the labyrinth-like walls of greenery, and that's the strong sense of being followed that you've been feeling for some time now. Not like eyes on your back, but rather, like a lingering sense of danger that you're about to run into any second now. You approach the next corner with caution, look behind, and relax enough to make fun of yourself in your head. But that only lowers your guard enough to make you scream with surprise when out of nowhere, a hand reaches for your shoulder.

"Hey, calm down. Are you alright? I've been trying to catch up with you for some time now. You appear to be running in circles. Are you lost?"

The man behind you is of large build, the pair of horns protruding from his brown hair only adding to his already admirable height, even if they're more sprawling at the sides of his head rather than from above - not unlike those of a ram. It's strange; for a moment there you had the feeling he'd been hunting you down towards this place in the center of the maze, but he doesn't seem to be ill-intended.

"W-Well- Not really, I just went out to get some fresh air, and-"

It must be pride that prevents you from accepting his help, or the fact that reaching the spacious center of the maze gives you the illusion of having made it halfway out of it without any help. Either way, the man lets out a short, wry laugh, almost mockingly so.

"I see. You are one of those who linger alone in here, looking for fun."

"T-That's not it! I honestly just meant to-"

The man steps in closer to you, his heavy boots coming to almost touch the tip of your own shoes now, and the difference in your builds is intimidatingly evident at that moment.

"How about this. You will try and make it out of here on your own. But if you fail, if I catch you - I will have my fun with you, there on the spot."

You can't believe yourself when the cold sweat beading at the base of your nape is not enough to stop you from giving it a thought. Maybe you were looking for some fun, maybe it was your frustration with failing to find fun that led you out of the hall to "take a breather" and get rid of the irritating arouse you've been feeling for some time - why hesitate just because you didn't expect to find your ticket to the entertainment here, in the garden?

The animalistic aura of the man and his respectable size gives you just enough push to make this fair, to actually give it your all before you fall into his hands. 

***

Well, you can't say that you didn't put up a fight.

The brown-haired man seems to enjoy pinning you down and restricting you just as much as you enjoy protesting in his strong hold, testing the strength of his toned arms. It's humiliating, feeling the cold cobblestone ground under your hands and knees, but you don't want anything to break the immersion of being his prey.

Though, he gives you enough to feed the fantasy as it is. Until you doubt it's a fantasy anymore. Not when something large and tapered and inhuman prods at your hole.

"W-What-"

"You stay quiet and take it, 'lil lady. That's your punishment for getting caught."

You feel your brain beginning to melt with the intrusion of the tapered head of his girthy cock, and you brace yourself for being this monster's plaything, hearing him groan above you as he bottoms out.

You need to think about making it out of the maze at some point too, but right now you're not very capable of that.

VIII. A possessive Dragonkin

(CW: oviposition, breeding, unplanned pregnancy)

You noticed something being amiss the very second you entered the room. This is his territory, that much is certain - and you let him walk you in here willingly. As his grip around your waist tightens, tongue long since down your throat in a breath-stopping kiss, your half-lidded eyes catch hazy glimpses of the space. The moonlight seeping from the windows helps you make up the contours of piles upon piles of objects of various shapes and colors covering every surface. Most of them shiny, intricate, antique, scattered around without order yet clearly kept with purpose.

At the very center of it all, you're being undressed by restless hands that seemingly want to reveal way more of your skin than is necessary for a simple, short-lived tryst between strangers. You expect his touch to be cold, but every part of you becomes scorching hot under his fingertips. His skin is smooth as it glides against yours, the moon making it glow almost, as he aims to maximize the contact between your bodies.

You want to touch him back, but something long, strong and scaly wraps around your middle, lifting you up with ease and suspending you in the air. Is that his... tail? You kick your feet at the loss of gravity, afraid that he will drop you, but he simply watches you squirm and struggle with his slitted icy-blue eyes.

"Mine."

The sudden pressing of his cock against your drenched entrance distracts you from this strange surge of possessiveness. Your limbs tremble as he bottoms out, the blunt tip of his appendage brushing against your cervix and sending electricity through your writhing form, a mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelms your senses.

With every thrust, it becomes easier, as your body not only becomes more pliable towards his size, but it also begins to crave more. It's like the precome smeared on his tip numbed your cervix, because you suddenly don't mind the feeling of him knocking on it on every thrust.

"Mine."

The whisper is followed by a grunt, and it makes you look at the stranger's face again. He's looking at you, yet it's like he's not seeing you; fixated on something underneath the surface, even his mantra of possessiveness is voiced out solely out of his own necessity to say it and not directed towards you. You reach out a hand and brush it against his pale, smooth cheek. Your fingertips graze blond hair locks and aim higher up, where a pair of pointy horns stand tall on the top of his head. They're translucent and blue in color, as if cut out from pure sapphire, and you're mesmerized by the sight, by all of him. Even if his tail wraps snuggly around you to keep you in place, his pace is rather rough, and one particularly sharp thrust has you grasping at those beautiful horns for support.

You're rewarded with a growl, and the sound of it makes your insides squeeze around the thick cock that continues to mercilessly pound your cunt. In a haze, you barely notice how the very tip of his tail snakes its way towards your clit and begins to stroke it.

"Ahhh!" You throw your head back as pleasure rocks your body, a powerful climax ripping through you. As your mind blanks out, you register your need growing tenfold despite having just orgasmed. In answer, he doesn't as much as slow down his thrusts, giving you exactly what you want.

Suddenly, you begin to feel a strange bulb at the base of his cock that presses more and more into your entrance, as if moving higher. The rational part of your brain, barely functioning, sends worrisome signals, but the part that wants this easily overpowers it. You don't need to understand it. You only need to think of the undiscovered pleasure that awaits you with that delicious stretch. Your walls pulsate helplessly around it, an itch that nothing else would be able to scratch, you're ruined for everything else at that very moment. The bulb slowly moves higher, making its way to your bruised cervix, until it finally presses against it, firmly.

There is a sense of resistance for a second, until finally, something pops inside. Tears of overstimulation gather in the corners of your eyes, and you feel something small and rounded nestling deep inside, in your uterus. It makes you orgasm on the spot, body thrashing around in the strong hold you're being kept in, as your vision turns to white for a mere second.

A gush of liquid follows, and you open your eyes to see the one doing this to you breathing rapidly as he too reaches his orgasm. His seed floods you, seeping into your dilated cervix without anything to hold it back, and drenches the egg resting in your womb. A rush of realization goes to your fucked-out mind and you just know, with every cell on your body, and by some ancient design, that whatever he put inside you has been fertilized successfully in that very moment.

"Mine."

You hear the wicked mantra leave his lips one last time before you pass out, and you briefly have the opportunity to worry about your future. Is he going to keep you here forever? Or maybe your purpose will end with expelling the egg once it finishes its growth, to add another treasure to his collection. You can't help but wonder, when he says "mine", why is it that you don't mind whether he's referring to you or the good incubator that your womb makes?

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison  @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou  @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @natimiles @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @groovylita @raeraeks @ethereal-blossom @valkyyriia @candied-boys @ludivineikewolf Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[valdekboy]

"Random Summer Vibes"

As the title says. Everything started with simple doodle, then another, then i found out that @kingzombear designs for these characters are still jammed deep into my brain, then the thought: "You can't just pick your favourites, you have to draw all of them" And so i did. And why the hell is all of this summer themed while we are at the beginning of winter? I have NO idea, but here they are, and I hope you enjoy them.

I had no idea for Kinger whatsoever. Didn't know what "toy" he should have, what clothes to give him, so i decided to give him a drift trike and this old patched up coat that reminds me of something.

And that should be the end

but it is not

because what kind of summer it would be without a group picture. And I wouldn't be myself if I didn't put Valdi in there. (For all the times he helped me, he deserves do be included. And trust me, he couldn't be happier about it.)

[This one is a reference to my older "drawing". Who knew that this car had space for so many characters]

And here are some extra doodles that came up while drawing all this, that i decided to clean up.

And that's it. All that because of one simple idea. I want to wish you all Merry Christmas! And Thank you all for being here, I really appreciate it! (And Happy New Year! In case I won't be back home in time.)

And one last thing to you @kingzombear

I just wanted to say I really enjoy drawing them in your style, in my opinion all these smaller and bigger changes and additions you did are just perfect . That's why I want to ask you. Can I keep drawing them in your style? I know it's weird question but I don't want you to see me as some asshole who randomly decided: "Hey, I will just keep using someone else's designs without permission" If you agree, just want you to know that I can't promise that all the drawings will be as good as the ones above, there are still lots of things I get wrong, but I can promise that I'll always try my best. (and ALWAYS ALWAYS credit you, just so you know there's no doubt about that). And sorry if all this mess was hard to read. English is not my main language, that's why some sentences might sound weird. Once again THANK YOU for inspiring me! Hope you have wonderful Christmas and Amazing New Year!