#alien reader

Who cares you aren't really his real wife?

Maybe it's just him being starved for a single form of affection from his supposed to be his one and only partner. Somehow he is still holding up but had it not you replacing her, he would've snapped.

Love-Starved!Husband wouldn't cheat for as marriage is such a sacred thing for him growing up religious with 'happy' parents and he wouldn't want to break the illusion. However, it was getting hard to keep it from falling apart after marrying her.

Love-Starved!Husband admit that it is uncanny looking at you considering you're using his old wife's skin and he desperately wants to see your real skin.

Desperate!Husband dropping hints that he might know who you truly are but all results to you laughing it off as a weird human couple thing you don't understand.

Paranoid!Husband double checks everything to keep you longer. He doesn't want to let it go just yet not when you two are getting along so so well. The kisses you let him left proves it! Right? Right. So don't worry if he installs more locks so no one gets in or out... In case of safety of course!!

Desperate!Husband trails up his hand on you one night as permission. He hasn't done this in a while so I hope you don't mind if he went a little crazy losing in pleasure once you've accepted him taking you.

Yandere!Husband the next morning had truly lost himself now and now he wants the real you. He's not done and he doesn't want to look at his probably dead wife's face but instead he wants you. The real you.

"Honey... You would show me everything you'd offer right? Through the highs and lows... The ugly and beautiful.. that's what you promised me."

"Of course."

"Then why do you insist on using her skin?"

"..."

"Please.. please show me who you truly are or I might just..."

He only wants to match your own wedding to you.

⋆｡°✩🌙₊˚ ༘. — parings: captain eo x alien princess!reader

｡˚🌌✦⊹✧ — warnings: Smut, explicit sexual content, alien biology, oral sex (female and male receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, cum play, excessive cum, overstimulation, size difference, strangers to lovers type shit, mild dub-con (hesitation), fluff and humor

°✩🚀⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚ — a/n: I don’t see much captain eo stuff on here and I def loved this film <3333 I’m also ovulating if you couldn’t tell! I’m thinking about making a tag list so if you wanna be apart lmk!!

The cosmos had never seen a messenger quite like Captain EO.

With a single silver glove raised to the stars, he had danced his way across galaxies, his ship humming with the rhythm of a heartbeat that matched his own.

His companions, Fuzzball, the tiny, furry creature with an insatiable curiosity, and Hooter, the squat, trumpet-nosed sidekick who communicated in a series of honks and grunts, had made the journey chaotic but never lonely.

They had bickered, they had played, and they had nearly sent the ship into an asteroid belt twice, but EO had guided them through with the kind of effortless grace that only he possessed.

Now, as the ship descended through the swirling, amber-tinted atmosphere of Tamaran, EO pressed his face to the viewport, his wide eyes drinking in the sight below.

The planet was a tapestry of impossible colors, violet skies streaked with gold, flora that pulsed with bioluminescent light, and structures that curved and spiraled like living things.

It was beautiful, yes, but it was also foreign. He had been sent here for one reason: to retrieve the Star Diamond of Xar, a gem of unparalleled power that was said to be held by the planet's royal protector, a woman known only as Starfire.

The landing was soft, the ship settling onto a bed of crystalline grass that chimed under the weight.

EO turned to his companions, placing a hand on each of their small heads.

"Stay," he said, his voice melodic, almost sung. "I'll be back before you know it. And no—"

He pointed a gloved finger at Fuzzball, who was already eyeing a control panel, "—no touching."

Fuzzball chittered in protest, but EO was already out the hatch, his boots clicking against the alien ground.

The air was warm and sweet, carrying a scent that reminded him of nectar and ozone.

The Tamaraneans he passed were humanoid, their skin ranging from deep gold to pale lavender, their eyes glowing with an inner light.

They moved with a fluid grace, their voices a symphony of trills and melodic tones that EO found himself swaying to.

He approached one of them, a tall figure with hair like liquid copper, and asked, "Excuse me? I'm looking for Starfire?"

The alien tilted its head, emitted a series of sounds that seemed to twist and spiral through the air, and then pointed a slender finger toward a structure that defied geometry.

It was shaped like a teardrop turned inside out, its walls shimmering with a mother-of-pearl iridescence.

EO thanked the alien with a bow and a smile, then made his way toward the house, his heart thrumming with anticipation.

The door was a sheet of what looked like liquid glass, and when EO knocked, ripples spread across its surface. "Hello?" he called out, his voice carrying that signature blend of confidence and charm.

"I'm Captain EO. I've been sent by the Supreme Council to retrieve the Star Diamond. I mean no harm—I come in peace."

The door slid open with a sound like wind chimes, and there you stood.

For a moment, EO forgot how to breathe.

You were tall, your hair, a cascade of fiery orange curls (imagine wtv hair texture), fell past your shoulders and down your back, wild and untamed, like a solar flare captured in human form.

Your eyes were the green of new leaves, sharp and knowing, and your body was a masterpiece of divine architecture, curves that spoke of power and grace, a waist that flared into hips that could command armies.

You wore a dress of deep violet that clung to you like a second skin, and when you smiled, EO felt the ground shift beneath him.

"Captain EO," you said, your voice a low, melodic purr that seemed to resonate in his chest. "I have been expecting you."

EO blinked, shaking himself from his reverie. "You have? Then you know why I'm here. The diamond—"

"Is safe," you interrupted, stepping aside to let him enter. Your home was as surreal as its exterior, filled with floating orbs of light and furniture that seemed to grow from the floor.

"But I will not give it to you so easily."

EO sighed, his shoulders squaring. He had expected this. "I was afraid you'd say that. Look, I don't want to fight you, but if that's what it takes—"

You laughed, a sound like bubbling champagne. "Fight? Oh, no, Captain. I do not wish to fight you."

You stepped closer, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, the sharp angles of his jaw, the way his jacket hugged his lean frame.

"I want something else."

Before he could respond, you took his hand, your touch was warm, almost electric and led him through the house, past rooms that glowed with alien technology and art that seemed to move when he wasn't looking.

You stopped at a door that pulsed with a soft, amber light, and when you pushed it open, EO found himself in a bedroom that was all deep purples and silvers, the bed massive and draped in silks that seemed to float on their own.

You turned to face him, and there was a hunger in your eyes that made his breath catch.

You placed your hands on his chest and pushed, and EO fell backward onto the bed, the silks cushioning his fall.

Before he could sit up, you were on top of him, straddling his waist, your thighs pressing against his hips.

"Wait," he said, though his hands were already moving to your waist, his fingers gripping the curve of your hips.

"I have to get back to my ship. Fuzzball and Hooter will worry—"

"Then I will be quick," you said, but the smile that curled your lips was a lie, and you both knew it.

You leaned down and kissed him.

Your lips were soft and demanding, and EO melted into the kiss, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer.

You tasted like the sweet wine of your planet, and the scent of your hair, something floral and exotic filled his senses.

When you pulled back, your eyes were half-lidded, your breathing shallow.

"Touch me," you whispered, taking his hands and placing them on your body. "Touch me everywhere."

He did. His hands roamed over your curves, over the warmth of your skin, and every touch drew a soft whimper from your lips.

You were so soft, so warm, and the sounds you made were like music. He felt himself hardening beneath you, and you must have felt it too, because you smiled and reached down, your fingers working at the fastenings of his pants.

You pulled them down, and when you took him in your hand, your eyes widened.

"I have never seen a penis like yours," you said, your voice hushed with wonder. "It is very big."

EO flushed, a rare heat creeping up his neck. "You think so?"

You answered by lowering your head and taking him into your mouth.

The sensation was electric. Your mouth was hot and wet, and you moved with a skill that left him gasping, his hands fisting in the silks beneath him.

He tried to hold back, tried to make it last, but you were too good, too eager, and with a shuddering groan, he spilled into your mouth.

You swallowed every drop, squeezing him to see if more will come out, your eyes closing in satisfaction, and when you pulled away, you licked your lips.

"You taste so sweet that I want more," you said, and before he could catch his breath you climbed on top of him, positioning yourself at his entrance. You sank down onto him in one slow, smooth motion, and EO gasped at the sensation. You were impossibly tight, your walls gripping him like a vice.

"How are you so tight?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Tamaranian anatomy," you said, a breathless laugh escaping your lips. "We are built to accommodate. But you... you fill me so completely."

You began to move, riding him with a rhythm that was both frantic and controlled. Your hips rolled, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, and your whimpers filled the room.

"Touch my pearl," you said, your voice breaking into a whimper.

"Your what?" he asked, his mind hazy with pleasure.

You took his hand and guided it to your clit, but when his fingers brushed against it, he felt something hard and smooth, a tiny, actual pearl, nestled in the folds of your flesh.

He rubbed it, and you cried out, your movements becoming frantic, your whimpers turning into full-throated moans.

You moved together, a symphony of heat and friction, until EO reached his peak again, his body shuddering as he poured himself into you.

You slowed, then stopped, and when you climbed off him, he lay there, panting, trying to regain his senses.

You pulled off him, and he watched as you reached down, your fingers dipping into your own core bringing it to your lips, licking it clean.

"What are you doing?" EO asked, fascinated.

"Tasting you," you said, your eyes half-lidded. "Tasting us."

"You don't have to do that," EO said, still catching his breath.

"I want to," you said, your voice dreamy. "Your taste is... addictive."

You continued to dig out the cum, scooping it up and swallowing it, a look of pure bliss on your face. He watched, mesmerized, until a thought occurred to him.

"Did you—" he started, sitting up. "Did you get to finish?"

You shook your head, a lazy smile on your lips. "If I do, I will make a big mess."

"I don't care," he said, and he meant it. He wanted to please you as much as you pleased him.

He pushed you back onto the bed, his head descending between your thighs.

You gasped when his mouth found you, and he tasted the mingling of your bodies, the sweetness of your skin.

He licked and sucked, learning your rhythms, and when he pressed his tongue against that tiny pearl, you arched off the bed, a scream tearing from your throat.

You came, and it was exactly as you had warned, a flood of cum soaking the sheets beneath you.

He lapped at you, trying to catch it all, but the more he licked more kept coming, wave after wave, and you couldn't stop, your body trembling, your whimpers filling the room.

"Is this normal?" He asked, his voice muffled.

"It’ll—stop soon—"

He pulled away, his face glistening, his eyes wide with concern. "Are you okay?"

You couldn't speak. Your mouth opened, but no words came out, only broken gasps.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you managed to whisper, "The diamond. It is in the chest by the window."

EO retrieved it, the gem pulsing with a warm light in his hand. He turned back to you, and you were still cumming, your legs twitching, your body wracked with aftershocks.

"Can we see each other again?" he asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

You were still cumming, putting your hands over throbbing pussy and squeezing your legs together trying to stop the flow.

You tried to sound unbothered, but your voice was strained. "You know where to find me."

He smiled, tucking the diamond into his jacket, and left you there, still trembling, still lost in the aftermath of what you had done.

When he returned to his ship, Fuzzball and Hooter immediately surrounded him, chittering and honking in question.

"What took you so long?" Fuzzball seemed to ask, his tiny eyes narrowing.

EO just smiled, his mind still full of orange curls and green eyes and the taste of your skin. "Let's just say I like pearls more than diamonds." (is that corny?)

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒

batfam x m!reader

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒 ! ── 2.6k words. platonic. na’vi/nightcrawler inspired male reader who crashes onto earth. they teach you earth customs while simultaneously learning about you.

Gravity pulled heavier on Earth, pressing your feet into cracked concrete as you stumbled out of the pod that had carried you across stars. Your tail flicked instinctively, bioluminescent markings along your arms and cheeks flaring faintly as the door hissed shut behind you.

Gotham’s sky was bruised purple and black. No moons you recognized. No forests humming back at you. You were alone.

At least, you thought you were.

“Kid,” a voice said from the shadows. “You gonna explain the alien spaceship, or…?”

You turned, ears flattening slightly as four heartbeats—no, five—registered all at once. Your eyes adjusted fast, pupils widening, catching details the dark tried to hide. A man in red armor leaned against a fire escape, posture casual but eyes sharp. Another stood back, hood up, already calculating. A younger boy scowled openly, hand near his sword. And at the center—

Batman.

Your translator implant lagged half a second behind the language, but your body read intent faster than words. Defensive. Alert. Not immediately hostile.

You raised your hands slowly, claws retracting. “I am… lost,” you said, voice soft, accent strange even to your own ears.

Silence stretched.

Batman was the one who broke it. “You’re coming with us.”

                          ༶•┈┈୨୧┈┈•༶

Wayne Manor smelled wrong.

Not bad—just unfamiliar. Too clean. Too still. You perched on the edge of a chair that protested softly under your weight, tail curled tight around your leg as Alfred placed a blanket over your shoulders despite your bioluminescence providing more than enough warmth.

“There now,” he said gently, eyes kind but observant. “You’re safe.”

Safe was a relative concept.

Dick was the first to sit on the floor in front of you instead of looming. He smiled like it was his default setting, like the world was something you could joke with if you tried hard enough.

“So,” he said, resting his chin in his hands, “space kid. You got a name?”

You hesitated. Names carried meaning on your planet—lineage, the echo of the trees you were born beneath. You weren’t sure how much of that survived the distance.

“You can call me what is easiest,” you said finally.

Jason snorted from the doorway. “That’s not suspicious at all.”

Tim shot him a look. “He’s clearly traumatized.”

Damian crossed his arms. “He is inefficiently armored and his stance is poor.”

You blinked at him, ears twitching. “…I fell from the sky.”

“That explains nothing,” Damian replied.

Bruce watched it all quietly. When your markings dimmed involuntarily, responding to the stress, his brow furrowed.

“They react to your emotions,” he said, not a question.

“Yes,” you answered, the soft glow along your arms and cheekbones answered for you. The light pulsed once, then again, like it was breathing.

“Hm,” Bruce murmured.

It was such a small sound, but it made every one of the boys glance at him.

“They respond automatically,” he said, eyes still on you. “Involuntary.”

You swallowed, fingers curling into the blanket Alfred had given you. “Most of the time,” you admitted. “I can… dim them. Sometimes.”

“But not when you’re stressed,” Tim added, already kneeling closer, careful not to crowd you. His voice was gentle, curious rather than clinical. “Or scared.”

You nodded. The light flickered, embarrassed by the attention.

Jason folded his arms. “So it’s like a mood ring, but, you know—glowy.”

“It is nothing like a novelty object,” Damian scoffed, then turned his sharp stare on you. “Are the markings bioluminescent due to chemical reactions or neural signaling?”

You blinked. “…Both?”

Damian’s eyes lit up in a way that was almost feral. “Explain.”

Bruce raised a hand slightly—not to stop him, just to slow the pace. “We’re not interrogating him,” he said. Then, to you, “But understanding your biology helps us keep you safe. If something feels uncomfortable, you say so.”

That alone made your shoulders ease.

“They are connected to my nervous system,” you explained carefully, searching for words that fit a human language. “Light comes from cells under my skin. My body reacts before my mind can stop it.”

Dick tilted his head. “So when you glow brighter…?”

“I am overwhelmed,” you finished softly. “Or happy. Sometimes both.”

Silence followed—not awkward, just thoughtful.

“And the tail?” Jason asked, nodding toward where it curled protectively around your leg. “Balance thing? Or is it more… cat?”

You huffed a small breath that might have been a laugh. “Both again.”

Dick grinned. “Called it.”

Tim gestured to your ears next. “Enhanced hearing?”

“Yes. And direction. I can tell where sound comes from very easily.”

Bruce filed that away instantly.

“What about your eyes?” he asked. “Low-light adaptation?”

You met his gaze, unflinching. “I see better in the dark than the light. Colors, too. Ones you cannot.”

Damian clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed by the limitation of human senses. “Unfair.”

Bruce finally allowed himself a small, thoughtful hum. “And your fangs?”

You froze for half a second, glow dimming.

“They are not for fighting,” you said quickly. “Only for food. I do not hunt people.”

Jason held up his hands. “Hey, nobody said you did.”

Bruce studied you for a long moment—your posture, your tail, the way your glow steadied as the questions turned curious instead of sharp.

“Does your body heal differently than a human’s?” he asked.

“Yes,” you answered. “Faster. But scars still form.”

That seemed to settle something in him.

“Alright,” Bruce said, straightening. “That’s enough for now.”

Damian opened his mouth to protest. Bruce silenced him with a look.

“You’ve been through enough tonight,” he continued, voice softer. “We can talk more when you’re rested.”

You nodded, relief washing through you—and your markings softened into a low, steady glow, like embers instead of fire.

Bruce noticed. Interesting, he thought.

                          ༶•┈┈୨୧┈┈•༶

Rest came in pieces at first.

You drifted in and out of sleep, unfamiliar sheets brushing your skin, the manor settling around you with soft creaks and distant footsteps. At some point, the lights in your room shifted—dimmed, warmer, closer to the bioluminescent hue your body preferred. You noticed even half-asleep. Someone had paid attention.

When you finally woke for real, it was quiet in that deep, early-morning way where the world feels like it’s holding its breath.

A gentle knock came at your door.

“Morning, space kid,” Dick said, voice bright, stretching exaggeratedly. “Or… morning, glow-boy?” He grinned when your ears twitched in mild annoyance. “Okay, fine, I’ll work on nicknames later.”

You rose carefully, tail swishing a little as you followed him into the dining room. Jason and Tim were already there, Jason was flipping through a book, Tim was scrolling through something on a device with one eye half-lidded like the contents confused him. Damian sat stiffly at the head of the table, arms crossed, but something in his posture softened as soon as he saw you enter. He’d never admit it though.

Bruce wasn’t at the table yet, but his presence lingered anyway—a quiet weight that made the room feel both tense and safe at once.

Dick clapped his hands together. “Alright. Today, we teach you Earth customs. First rule: breakfast foods don’t bite back.”

You tilted your head, ears flicking, unsure how to respond. “They… could?” you asked.

Jason snorted. “He’s joking, idiot. They’re food.”

Alfred intervened gently. “Perhaps we should begin with utensils,” he said. He set a fork, knife, and spoon neatly on the table. “And, of course, table manners. Not every human eats the same way.”

You studied the utensils, tail flicking in curiosity. They seemed… primitive compared to what your hands were used to. Your fingers were long and dexterous, tipped with soft claws that could pierce almost anything, but here, they just fumbled with the fork.

Dick leaned over. “Here, let me show you.” He took your hand and guided it slowly, showing how to hold the fork between two fingers while the other rested against your palm.

The gesture was awkward at first, your claws clicking against the metal. Your markings brightened faintly with every small mistake, almost like your body was laughing at your own confusion.

The morning passed in small steps.

Jason tried teaching you how to use a human phone, holding it awkwardly in your hands. Your fingers could manipulate it with ease, but the gestures were confusing—the swiping, the tapping, the double tap—and the device lit up with unintended commands.

Each time your markings flared, Jason would laugh and tilt his head. “It’s okay. Humans do this all the time… but you’re, like, doing it better somehow.”

Tim, meanwhile, had a notebook open and a pen in hand. “Show me how your vision works,” he asked quietly. “Can you see… colors outside the human spectrum? Shapes humans can’t detect?”

You hesitated, unsure how much detail they could handle. “I can see ultraviolet and near-infrared light,” you explained carefully. “You would not see it as color, exactly—it is more like… texture, movement. Heat.”

Tim’s eyes widened slightly. “So if someone is hiding behind a wall or in the dark, you could detect them?”

“Yes,” you said, and lifted a hand to point at the empty doorway across the hall. “I can perceive faint electromagnetic emissions, too. Your lights, electronics, even faint heartbeats. I do not always choose to notice—it is exhausting.”

Damian’s curiosity was immediate. “Then you could be a perfect scout.”

“I.. do not fight,” you said softly.

“Tt. Of course.” He rolled his eyes.

                          ༶•┈┈୨୧┈┈•༶

Lunch was another lesson. Dick insisted on introducing you to Earth table customs—the different utensils for different foods, the etiquette of passing dishes, the oddity of condiments—and you absorbed it all with fascination, your tail twitching nervously whenever someone laughed at your mistakes. Every new interaction sparked a subtle glow across your body; flares of embarrassment, dim flickers of curiosity, pulses of cautious joy when you did something right.

Jason kept tossing you small, harmless challenges—lifting a sandwich with one claw, catching a napkin tossed mid-air, holding a plate steadily while your tail curled around your leg. Each time, your markings brightened unpredictably, and Jason would grin like he’d just discovered a new toy.

Tim’s notes grew detailed. He was curious about the science behind everything; your musculature, the way your nervous system triggered the glow, the fine control you had over your tail. He kept asking you to demonstrate minor abilities—like hopping from chair to chair in near silence or bending low to scan under the table without knocking anything over.

“Fascinating,” he muttered repeatedly, scribbling furiously. “Your body can react faster than human perception.”

Even Damian leaned in occasionally, crossing his arms but watching intently. “You are… precise,” he admitted once, his sharp tone softening. “Even without trying.”

Bruce observed quietly from a corner, occasionally commenting. “Your abilities are exceptional. But I need you to understand Earth is not your planet. Even if you can move and react faster, the environment itself is different. You have to adapt, not just rely on innate capabilities.”

You nodded slowly, absorbing both the lessons and their concern. It felt strange, being guided so carefully by humans who could barely begin to imagine your life. But the warmth of their attention, the patience in their teaching, made something inside you settle.

By the time the sun began to set over the manor, you had learned about human utensils, table manners, basic electrical devices, and a little slang—though Dick warned that most of it would get you into trouble.

In return, they had learned about your vision, your hearing, your tail’s dexterity, your unique sensory awareness, and the subtle ways your markings reacted to emotion.

                          ༶•┈┈୨୧┈┈•༶

It had been weeks since you first stepped into Gotham’s bruised sky, weeks since the strangers who had found you in that alley had become a family. The city still smelled wrong—oil, rain, smoke—but the manor no longer felt alien. You could navigate the halls without getting lost, knew the rooms by sound and subtle drafts of air, and even the floors had a rhythm you could feel through your bare feet.

Your tail swished idly as you moved through the manor’s quiet corridors, your bioluminescent markings dim and soft, reflecting the calm of a late afternoon. Dick was sprawled on the sofa, nose buried in a book, while Damian sharpened a blade with precision that made you tense and relax at the same time. Tim was tinkering with something mechanical in the corner, Jason leaning against the doorway. Bruce… was absent, though you sensed him—always observing, always present in subtle ways.

“Want to see something cool?” Dick asked suddenly, eyes sparkling. “I can show you the cave.”

You perked up, ears twitching. You had heard whispers of it, seen the map layouts, but had not been there yourself. “Cave?” you asked, tail curling with cautious excitement.

Jason snorted. “He means the Batcave. You’re gonna love it—or freak out.”

“Possibly both,” you murmured, following Dick down the hidden stairwell behind the library. The air grew cooler, the faint hum of machinery greeting you, and your markings brightened faintly—curiosity, fascination, and a touch of excitement all mingling in your nervous system.

The cave opened wide beneath the manor. Lights reflected off metal and glass, shadows falling into organized chaos. Rows of monitors, consoles, and vehicles stretched out before you.

The tech wasn’t as advanced as what you remembered from home, not by a long shot, but it was familiar in ways that made your chest tighten pleasantly. Sensors, displays, energy readings—this was a place made to see and understand, a place you could… breathe in.

“This is amazing,” you breathed, stepping closer to a console. Your hands hovered over it, instincts guiding your fingers, though you weren’t touching anything yet. Your glow brightened subtly, pulsing with quiet delight.

“Wait until you see the displays,” Tim said, already walking over to show you maps and security feeds. “You can read them easily, right?”

“Yes,” you replied, eyes scanning the monitors. “I can process information quickly. Faster than normal humans.” You paused, tilting your head. “It is… comforting here. It reminds me of home.”

Dick grinned. “Told you. You’re gonna feel right at home in the Batcave.”

For the first hour, you explored in cautious wonder. You leapt lightly from platform to platform, tail balancing, glowing softly in admiration, letting your senses absorb the hum of electronics and the faint vibrations of machinery underfoot. Every now and then, your hearing picked up a distant hum of the city above, or the subtle vibration of footsteps somewhere deeper in the manor.

You paused on a raised platform, looking down at the consoles, the vehicles, the glowing screens that reminded you so much of home. Your ears twitched, tail curling lazily around your leg, and a slow warmth settled in your chest. This place—it wasn’t your planet, it wasn’t even your city—but it felt safe. Comfortable, even. The humans who lived here weren’t perfect, but they were… kind. They had their quirks, their tempers, their ridiculous ways of doing things, but they cared. They watched, they waited, they made sure you weren’t overwhelmed or alone.

Damian was nearby, of course, sharpening something with meticulous precision, eyes narrowed as usual. He didn’t smile, didn’t relax, and probably never would—but even his sharp, critical gaze felt… steady. Like he wasn’t going anywhere.

And somehow, that was enough.

You let out a soft breath, tail flicking contentedly. You didn’t mind being here, not really. You could learn their strange customs, adapt to this world, even if it wasn’t easy.

Because being here meant being with them. With all of them.

Even Damian.

Even if he made you work a little harder to earn his approval, you could get used to Earth. You could learn its rules, its sounds, its manners… as long as it meant being part of this odd, complicated, and somehow wonderful family.

Mark Grayson x viltrumite male reader 

Rambles 

I love alien anatomy, and alien with their curious (half) human lover.

I’m assuming this is the same reader as in the kinktober prompt, which you can read here.

Platonic Yandere Clark Kent x Alien Reader

Justice League notices strange object in the sky above Smallville. Clark decides to investigate, but something strange appears in his minds.

Repost, please

990 words

Pt 1 Pt 2

To see other works ——> M-list

Justice League was quite concerned about strange object in the sky right above Smallville. It wasn't the main problem — according to local villagers, a lot of cows went missing. Isn't it strange?

Clark thought so.

— Object without any known to us flags of extraterrestrial civilizations... — Bruce was talking about scanning, when Superman felt it firstly. Locked deeply in his soul, something inhuman called him. Like a mother touch, like a breath of Kryptonian air. — Technologies don't look human. Hal, you need to connect the Corps, Diana...

He shook his head and forced the feeling to leave.

And while Leage tried to connect UFO and answer journalists questions, he decided to visit parents.

Then he finds out, that it will make things go wrong. But not in a bad way.

Gn! Yautja! Reader x Yautja mate (I might want to add that no matter how much I read into it I just can't get a good grasp on the species.. So it will likely have inaccuracies)

When your mate came home they did not know what they did wrong.. You simply ignored them the entire day! Was it because they didn't nuzzle you on their way out? Didn't they reply a purr? What could've possibly made you ignore them?

Fact is they are distraught, and the only way to fix it was that if they brought back a good hunt! Like any good Yautja! Yes it did take a while.. And yes they got a fre good scratches from it but nothing they can't be proud of now that they have a Xenomorph head!

They were so excited to show you! Hopefully you accept it! Once back home and ignoring all the Yautja staring curiously at the trophy they get to their home. You still there and not even looking

They click as they walk up to you. Walking up slowly and then you turn, certainly you are surprised when you see it, your mate in a state that shows they have been through a lot getting the Xenomorph head.. And doesn't that make you just swoon?