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tadpolesonalgae · 7 months

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Eris x reader: Autumn Frost

A/N: Love autumn and winter but cannot deal with the cold

Also, I know it’s late, but here it is (I’m so sorry this took a while)

Warnings: mostly fluff, but some suggestiveness towards the end…

Word Count: 1,620

You’re out of your clothes and leaping beneath the covers before he’s stepped foot in the room.

The vibrant oranges and burning reds are always stunning, so rich and lively, but your fingertips have long since gone numb, along with your toes. The sheets are crisp, but cool, not yet warmed by bodies. Shivers run along your skin, as if skating across a frozen lake. Teeth chatter in the silence, and sharp, caramel eyes flick over to your heavily-duveted form—bundled up tight beneath the cotton sheets.

Before you can protest, Eris has strode to your side, hand sliding beneath the covers to locate your own. His brows narrow when he feels the iciness of your skin, almost frozen stiff. None of the softness he so frequently seeks to be found. “You’re freezing,” he mutters, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Half of you wants to pull away, but you’re too preoccupied with the heat that’s seeping from his skin into your own, warming your blood. “I’m fine,” you reassure, teeth chattering a little, lips slightly numb. His brow narrows further, “you’re clearly not fine. You’re shaking.” You manage a small smile, tightening your hands on his, pulling him closer, rolling onto your side as you curl into him. “I like it,” you murmur, “it’s part of Autumn—the chill. And it makes the heat so much better; more rewarding.”

He sighs, free hand wrapping around the nape of your neck, pulling you up the to heat of his body, tucking you into the crook of his shoulder. “So strange, aren’t you?” He mumbles the question under his breath, hot lips brushing your temple. You press deeper into his warmth, bathing in the heat of that inner flame. “Rude.”

A chuckle drags from his chest, like the crackle and pop of firewood from a bonfire. “I’m right though, aren’t I?” You tip your head up to glare at him, but he presses his lips to your forehead, instantly softening you. Leaning into the quiet kiss, you squeeze his hand, revelling in the all-encompassing sense of him. So wonderful. So perfect.

You whine when he releases you, forcing you to burrow back beneath the thick duvet, curling into the small patch of warmth you’ve managed to accumulate. Eris sighs, stroking your hair before standing, moving to change out of his own clothes—more than happy to spend the evening tucked beneath the covers. Especially if it means you’ll be greedily putting your hands all over him. He knows you don’t do well with the cold, even if it’s nothing compared to the harsh blades of winter ice.

When he’s changed, he pulls back the covers. You squeal as the outside air rushes in, nipping at your skin, making it pebble with goosebumps. “Eris,” you whine, scrambling deeper into the small warmth, cowering from the cool air. “Eris hurry up. It’s freezing,” you moan, muscles tensing as you attempt to wrap the duvet tighter around your body. He snorts, “I knew it was worse than you were letting on. I told you to wear your gloves, remember? Next time tell me when you start to get cold. I’ll warm you up.”

You huff begrudgingly, rolling onto your side, facing away from him—even though you know he’s right. He laughs softly at your antics, then the mattress dips, and strong arms are wrapping over your hips, pressing beneath your waist as you’re dragged back into his chest. As soon as his skin touches yours, the fight seeps from you. Instead you roll back over, tucking yourself close, hands greedily groping at his sturdy muscle, revelling in his scent. Slightly smoky, with the crispness of autumn frost, the slight tang of roasted chestnuts twining with the sweetness of apples cooked in brown sugar.

“Come closer,” you mumble, lips brushing against his collar bones, nosing at his throat. The soft breath of his chuckle tickles your pointed ear, “I’m as close as I can get. Are you still cold?” You nod, just a small dip of your head. Instantly the bed warms, heat radiating from his skin, heating you until you no longer feel the need to cling so tight to him.

Eris senses the way your muscles melt, how your fingertips have softened and your breaths are deeper. Less tense, no longer so quick or shallow. He wraps you tighter, enjoying your scent, allowing you to sink into his bones.

You tuck deeper into him, enjoying the feel of having him all to yourself. With nothing else to worry about. No gossiping handmaids, no peeping servants, no overbearing courtiers. Just you and him.

“Eri?” You mumble, lips warm and soft against his skin, a faint tickle coming from your breath as it skates across him. He hums in response, and you feel it rattle through your bones, biting back a soft purr. Stay on track. “What shall we do tomorrow?” You ask drowsily, fighting to stay awake with the all-around comfort he innately provides. “What do you want to do?” He replies softly, eyes shut, content to bask in the moment.

Your brow furrows, and you manage to sleepily glare at him. “We’re here because you’re overworking yourself,” you mumble. “You needed a break, so it’s your choice. What do you want to do?”

Hands grip your waist, sliding a little lower, “you.” He pinches your ass, making you squeak, then poke him in the ribs. You press your cold toes to his calves, and he hisses. “I thought you said I was here to relax,” he fires at you, pushing you across the mattress then tugging the duvet back to his body.

“Eris!” You snap, scrambling back across the bed, burrowing into the heat, desperate to escape the cold. “Eris, that was cruel,” you snipe, pushing him onto his back, letting you crawl on top of him. “Attacking me in my own bed is cruel,” he counters, helping you straddle his hips. “Twice, I might add.”

“You should have taken my question a bit more seriously,” you grunt, lying flat across his chest, the soft swell of your breasts pressing against him delightfully.

His hand slides to the nape of your neck, threading through your hair, guiding you to look up at him. “Do you think I was joking, lovely vixen?” Heat flushes your cheeks at the pet name—it doesn’t come out unless he wants to make things messy. “No…” you mumble. He’s spent long enough showing how much he desires you, that you don’t doubt him.

Hell, if the tables were reversed…

“But that’s something you can have whenever you want,” you mumble, eyes flickering about as he watches you hungrily. “So pick something else—something you don’t normally get the opportunity to do, at least.”

A neatly groomed brow arches, “you’d like me to get creative, then?” You flush, staring at him, heart beating heavily in your chest. Sure he can feel it. “Eris…” you murmur, lowly, feeling the beginnings of something hot and liquid coalescing in the pit of your belly.

“You’ve always been so sensitive to temperature, haven’t you?” He drawls, fingertips dancing teasingly down the notches of your spine. Teeth bite lightly into your lower lip, “whatever you’re thinking, stop it. Now.” You don’t really want him to, though. He’s already got you wrapped around his finger. You’ll probably do whatever he ends up asking you to.

Eris’ lips quirk, and your sex heats in response. A tingle tracing back up your spine as his hand moves lower, settling over your ass, gripping, groping and squeezing. “Eris…” It’s supposed to be a hiss, but comes out more like a whimper. “Want to know what we’ll be doing tomorrow, lovely vixen?” He purrs, fingers slipping between your thighs. You remain quiet, and he knows he’s won.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to open the windows in the kitchen, and you’re going to lie on the table,” he murmurs, stroking the intimate skin of your upper legs. “You’re going to take all your clothes off, so you’re extra sensitive to the cold, and you’re going to stay completely still as I warm you up on my own.”

You’re not sure you’ll be able to cool down, embers igniting in the pit of your belly, want thrumming between your thighs.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it nice for you,” he hums, retracting his hand, bringing it back up and you nearly whimper. “Give you a nice, hot meal. Light some candles. Run a bath for you after…” Caramel eyes gleam, “maybe the candles will come in use, during.” Warmth flushes your cheeks as you find yourself anticipating tomorrow's dawn.

“You’re unfair, Eris,” you mumble onto his chest, knowing he’s not going to give you anymore stimulation until tomorrow. Even if you beg for it. “Unfair?” He echoes, a lilt to his voice, “you wanted me to do something I don’t usually get the opportunity to.”

“I meant choose something like bake a pie together…read together…go on a walk…something more mundane.”

“Fine, let’s bake a pie, go for a walk, then eat it when we get back over a book,” he responds, stroking your hair affectionately.

“No,” you say hurriedly, “we can do what you wanted. That’s why we’re here, after all. I won’t get in your way.”

He laughs again, squeezing your sides, calling a smile to your lips. Setting kisses across his skin, gentle whispers of affection.

How lucky he is to have this time with you.

To have this secretive space, where it’s just you two together, and he can shut out the rest of the world.

Only for a short while, but it’s worth it.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

#Eris #Eris Vanserra #Eris fluff #Eris Vanserra fluff #Eris x reader #Eris Vanserra x reader #Drabble #Eris x reader fluff #Eris Drabble #Eris Vanserra x reader fluff #Autumn Frost #September

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yearning-for-autumn · 3 months

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Everything I have written in one place. Characters will be added when I write for them.

*Smut

Acotar Fics

Series:

Would That I - Eris x Illyrian!Reader Part one, Part two*, Part three*

Acotar Trauma-Verse

Part one (Azriel) , Part two (Cassian) , Part three (Rhysand)

One shots:

Azriel A Night at the Opera - Azriel x Reader * My love Mine all Mine - Azriel x Reader* Eris Don't Worry Darling - Eris x gn!Reader Under Your Skin - Eris x gn!Reader Little Black Dress - Eris x chubby!Reader*

Lucien Sweet Indifference - Lucien x Elain

Acotar Headcanons

Pet-names Azriel NSFW Alphabet* Eris NSFW Alphabet* Lucien NSFW Alphabet*

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redbleedingrose · 3 months

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since ur drabbles are open… thinking about girl dad!Eris and reader having another baby and Eris wants to name her Lucy after his baby brother 🥹

heheheh another babe for girl dad!Eris ???

If I am being so completely honest, I think it is gonna be a long long time until girl dad!Eris and you have another child. One fae pregnancy is extremely rare, and the fact that you had a twin pregnancy??? Almost unheard of in Prythian.

Eris for sure wants more children, I think it takes you a long time to be ready for it. You want to spend time with your twin babes, and your pregnancy with them was very, very difficult... it makes you less than excited to be pregnant again. And Eris is fully aware and ready to wait as long as you need, and is content if you decide you don't think you will ever be ready for another.

And to clarify, I think Eris would truly really pray for another girl. I think he has his own insecurities when it comes to having a son. He truly feels more comfortable with having daughters he can spoil and love on to the fullest extent. The thought of having a son... it makes him fear (even moreso than he does with Marwa and Twila) that he will act like his father.

Needless to say, I think Er has a lot of trauma he is working through, and You, Marwa and Twila are the reason he feels so inclined to do so. So, at the end of it all, it will take some time for him to be ready for another babe as well.

Now, your thought, dear anon, is a very sweet one, and I have had thoughts as well. So, maybe I can share some Girl Dad!Eris lore for the class since you brought it up so kindly!! <3

It takes a very long time for there to be reconciliation between Eris and Lucien, not for Er's lack of trying. Lucien is deeply, deeply scarred by what Beron did to him and Jesminda. And the role that Eris played, or at least the role that Lucien thought Er played, is one that broke their relationship.

Prior to this, Er was the only brother Lucien actually loved and was close to, and visa-versa. Eris truly adored Lucien, ever since he was a babe. Eris tells you later on, in the darkest hour of night, while he is wrapped up in your arms with his face buried in your chest, body shuddering from sobs, that he always knew that Lucien was different from the rest of them, from the rest of his brothers. Er's mother came clean to Eris years after the incident with Jesminda, but part of Eris already knew. And Eris thinks that there was a part of Beron that already knew. And maybe that is why what happened with Jesminda, is because of Lucien's crime of being born.

Eris' relationship with Lucien is honestly really difficult for Eris to talk about, he rarely wants to, even with you, his closest confidant, his best friend, his wife, his mate. It is not something he wants to spend time dwelling on, though you know, and he knows, that Eris will spend an hour a day, at least, thinking about how things could have ended differently, if he had just tried harder.

Eris was made aware of Beron's hatred for Jesminda the moment Lucien introduced her to their family. He caught the dark, hungry glint in the evil high lords eyes when she introduced herself as a young maiden coming from the rural farms of Autumn. As the eldest son, Eris was responsible for a lot of Beron's duties (in secret of course). As such, the night after Jesminda was introduced, Eris was summoned to Beron's office and was made aware of the plan to ruin the young loves relationship.

Eris spent a long time, with lots of effort, trying to put off or ruin Beron's plans. And he was often successful. What Eris counted on, was Beron letting things go between the two young loves. Eris counted on this being Beron's attempt to "protect the family image." Eris truly believed that if he delayed Beron's plans that many times, that eventually his father would give up.

What Eris didn't count on, was Beron's utter hatred for Lucien. Eris didn't count on the fact that the plan was to ruin Lucien's life. By the time Er figured out what was going to happen to Jesminda, it as already too late. Jes had already been brought to the prisons for her end, and Lucien was already being held back by their second oldest brother, Dragos.

The way that Eris explained to you, and he only has once because he really hates talking about this night, is that he grabbed onto Lucien to make sure Dragos didn't kill him right then and there. But with that, with his intent on protecting his youngest brother, he had to force Lucien to watch the beheading of his first love. It is not something Eris will ever find forgiveness in himself for. He will never forget the wails and shrieks of his youngest brother. And he will never forget the ringing silence that came after.

All that Eris had in his mind, trying to tamp down the sheer panic running through his arteries, pumping through his heart, is getting Lucien out. Once Jesminda was murdered, Eris wasn't sure what the fate of Lucien was. So, while he and Dragos were dragging Lucien away, when they were finally out of the sight of Beron and the other brothers, Eris released Luc and used the dagger hidden against his forearm to stab into Dragos' carotid. Lucien was soaked in his second eldest brothers blood as he scrambled away from Eris, but Er didn't let him get too far, winnowing the both of them out into the depths of the Autumns Forest.

"Go," he hissed between clenched teeth, shoving Lucien towards the spring border, "I will hold them off." The shouts of the other Vanserra brothers approaching closer and closer through the forest, Eris couldn't bring himself to look back as he shouted at Lucien to "Get out of here! Go! Leave and never ever come back!"

Eris described this night, as one of the worst ones of his entire life. He lost his most beloved brother, possibly forever. And he would never be able to explain himself. He would forever, in the eyes of his brother, be an enemy and one of the reasons Jesminda is not alive.

You coming into Er's life brought a lot of hope. A lot of strength for Eris. Centuries of planning to assassinate his father are finally carried out because there is nothing more that Eris wants, than a world where he can love you freely and openly, without putting you in danger. After Beron is... eliminated... Autumn Court flourishes under Eris' rule with your help as high lady. Eris has long let go of hope that one day, maybe Lucien will forgive him. But he has hope that he will build his own family, one that he will love and protect forever, one that he won't fail like he failed Luc.

Lucien, struggles with his emotions regarding Eris. He has long remained confused and angry and hurt about the night Jes was killed, and it takes him centuries to work through all of the trauma of it. And he has to do it without his oldest brother, without his mother. He has to do it alone. After that night, Lucien thought he would be alone forever, without a family.

Of course, as time passes, wounds heal slowly. From a distance, truly peripherally, Luc watches the Autumn Court flourish under Eris' rule with the new high lady, you. Lucien was stunned that Eris even created teh position of high lady, he always assumed that the woman to marry Er would live in a loveless marriage as lady autumn as his mother had. Lucien didn't think Eris would find love. He didn't think Eris would let himself have love. Despite these changes, Lucien remains wary for several more decades.

It is not until one fateful evening, in the middle of Summer while Lucien is in Day court, the truth of his conception being exposed after Beron's death, that Luc receives a letter with delicate, beautiful handwriting addressing him as "brother." It doesn't take long for Luc to figure out, that the handwriting belongs to the High Lady of Autumn, you, his brothers wife and mate. You never told Eris you were writing Lucien this letter, because you didn't want to get his hopes up, but you wrote to Lucien imploring him to come visit one day, if only to meet his new sister in law, if only to see the changes that have brought true joy to Autumn Court. In this same letter, you inform Lucien that you are expecting. That he will be an uncle, and that you hope to the mother, that you pray to the gods, that one day your babe will be able to meet their fathers favorite brother, their youngest uncle. Lucien, as you expected, does not respond to your letter.

At least, not right away...

Part 2 coming soon!

A/N: this is unedited but part 2 is coming tomorrow hopefully, Thursday evening at the latest 💞

#rose rambles #rose answers #girl dad!Eris x reader #girl dad!Eris #eris vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra fanfic #acotar fanfic #acotar hcs #acotar drabbles #autumn court #eris vanserra #eris vanserra drabble #eris vanserra fanfic #girl dad eris lore #marwa and twila

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darkphilosophies · 9 months

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Her fingers ghosted over the jagged edges of his scar, and his eyes flew open.

"It's ugly," he said, and his hand shot up to grab hers, to pry it away from his face.

"Perhaps to somebody else," Elain whispered, her finger curling around his, allowing his warmth to travel up her skin like a delicate caress. "Never to me."

Elain leaned over and placed a soft kiss right above his brow where his scar started, then traced it with her lips all the way to his jaw.

The muscles in his face relaxed, and his eyes, when he looked at her, were full of a tenderness she had never seen on them before. Elain found that the air was too thick with her own emotions; that she could barely breathe. So, she did the only thing that came to her mind—she kissed him slowly, deeply, trying to convey her emotions in a language she was only beginning to understand.

#just a drabble #acotar #elain archeron #elain x lucien #elucien #lucien vanserra #autumn court

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smileyerim · 1 year

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i think i’m in love with you (i am!)

inspired by: 9:45-9:52 of this video. (“What if I’m making a wedding dress for my girl?”)

pairing: fashion designer!mark x model!reader

genre: fluff fluff fluff

length: 800+

warnings: none just love <3

net tags: @kflixnet @neowritingsnet

. . .

It’s no surprise to say that Mark loves you. From the moment you first walked into his studio, he knew he wanted to mean something to you. From the way your eyes lit up when looking through his sketches, to the way you listened so intently to his plans, to the knowledgeable comments you made on the hand of the fabrics Mark knew he was done for. He needed to know you.

Thankfully, he did. He asked for your number near the end of your fitting “in case any changes are needed” and you gave it freely, that made him happy. Not even 2 days later he’d texted you asking to take you out to coffee. You read and responded “yes” to his question immediately.

Now you’re here, 3 years later and more in love than Mark ever thought possible. He proposed to you last spring in the middle of a cherry blossom meadow after coming up with a fake excuse about a photoshoot. Considering you know your way around scenarios like this pretty well due to your profession, you saw right through him but you let him go on his little spiel acting surprised when he got on one knee.

You’ve been engaged for 6 months and wedding planning has been kicking your ass, and Mark’s new collection coming out in 2 weeks isn’t helping with your collective stress. Recently, you and Mark haven’t been spending time together. You’re busy with work preparing for fashion week and he’s doing the same with his own fashion show to put on. You miss him dearly, and he knows it’s been weighing on your heart how he comes home and immediately falls into bed.

You miss him, and today you’re going to do something about it.

Mark is very private about his studio space, he doesn’t like people in there who don’t need to be. You’ve only been in a handful of times, once being your first meeting, but you like to stay away as much as possible to respect his private space. It’s his space to be creative, let loose, decompress, you don’t want to get in the way of that.

Except today you will. After packing a quick lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and bagged snack size chips and beer you’re on your way up to his studio in the old lift near the concierges desk. You wanted to surprise him for all his hard work recently and pull him away from the sewing machine.

Through the door you can hear him talk to himself and a smile creeps up on your face

“If I just cut it on the bias the drape will be nicer and will flow down the aisle-“

“Surprise!” You burst through the door to see a stunned Mark jump, make fearful eye contact with you, and then move in front of the dress form behind him.

“What are you doing here?” He stands still holding the dress form against his body behind him.

You giggle as you step up to him, placing the grocery bag on the work table in front of you.

“I’m here to surprise you with lunch! Aren’t you surprised?” You say.

“Definitely.” Mark says, still holding the dress form tight behind him. His eyes are wide and he doesn’t seem as happy to see you as you had hoped.

“What’s wrong? I promise I won’t steal your designs and send them to Prada.” You joke, leaning over to the side to try and see behind him. He leans with you, nearly tripping over himself to guard your sight.

He laughs a nervous chuckle, “I know, it’s just-baby, wait-“ you stand and move to his side of the table and finally catch a closer glimpse at what he’s guarding and a soft gasp leaves your lips.

“Mark,” he lets out a sigh and his head drops in defeat, “is that?”

“I was going to surprise you with it. I wanted to show you how much you’ve been on my mind since I’ve been away for so long preparing for fashion week.” He finally moves to step away from the dress form and towards you, and the wedding dress comes into your sight.

“It’s not done, this is just the sample so it’s not pretty but-“

He’s cut off by your arms wrapped around his neck tightly. Happy tears stain the neckline of his t-shirt as he holds you close.

“Baby, are you crying?”

You sniffle and look up at him, “Of course I’m crying! I love you so much, Mark Lee.” You say before landing a soft kiss he reciprocates immediately on his lips.

“I love you too.” He says softly looking into your teary eyes.

For the next hour Mark walks you through the plans he has for the dress, showing you samples of the satin silk and the lace he’s planning to use for different portions of the garment, allowing you to even pick out the buttons he’ll fix on the back. Two beers down and a lot of smiles and kisses later, you’re sure you made the right decision by spoiling his surprise.

#neowritingsnet #kflixnet #autumn writes mark #mark lee #mark lee fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 #mark fluff #mark imagines #mark drabble #mark lee imagines #nct imagines

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 7 months

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"Can you please just go?" Batman x Petite F! Reader

Summary: Gordon needs help, the Bat got blown up and now a bunch of GCPD officers are threatening to remove the mask. He needs a doctor, but I guess a coroner will do.

Pairing: Batman (Battison) x Petite F! Reader with glasses (could be fake, readers, or prescription we don't judge)

Warnings: Drabble, Robert Pattison is attractive as Batman (that's the warning)

Cross Posted on AO3

“I need your help,” Gordon shouts, pushing his way through the morgue. “The Bat’s here, they want to pull off his mask, I need time to get him out of here.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Play Doctor. He got blown up at the church, he’s been unconscious for about two hours. I’ve held them at bay but it’s not going to last, hell I might be too late by coming down here.”

“I am a Doctor,” you remind him, snapping off your gloves, “but lead the way.”

The crowd in the small kitchenette was growing, Gordon pushing through ahead of you glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure you didn’t get swallowed up by the crowd, you were the shortest person in the room by far.

“Out of the way,” Gordon shoves, others mumbling curses at his back as you push your glasses higher up your nose.

Your breath catches in your throat when you see him, covered head to toe in a black combat suit. He’s out cold and the men around him sneer down at him like he’s filth under their boots.

“I say we take off the mask, find out who he really is,” you hear Officer Smith, his hand reaching towards the cowl.

Suddenly the bat springs from the table, punching his way through several officers, the police commissioner shouting in his face. “I got you on assaulting two officers pal!”

“You got me assaulting three,” he snaps back, Gordon pressing a hand firmly into his chest trying to diffuse the situation.

“Everybody OUT!” you shout, watching as every eye in the room turns to you. The commissioner nearly turns purple with how pissed he is, he goes to open his mouth when you raise a hand silencing him. “I understand sir, you want him behind bars but the man,” you glance at him, “erhm bat was just blown up. He has the right to medical attention.”

Officer Martinez raises a brow, “You’re a coroner.”

“Eh tomato, tomatoe, doesn’t matter whether he’s dead or alive, just need to let me have a look at him.” You fold your arms over your chest so no one can notice how badly you’re shaking.

“Five minutes,” the Commissioner raises his hand, “and Gordon stays.”

“Understood, sir,” you toss in another one for respect, “now can you please just go?”

The room is slow to clear and they don’t stray far, keeping close to the glass. “It’s like a fucking zoo,” you mumble under your breath turning towards your patient. His lips twitch like he’s fighting a smile and you smirk, “Can you take a seat for me?” The Bat takes a seat on the table, and you open your bag pretending to look for something, whispering under your breath, “anytime now, Gordon.”

Gordon stands beside you, keeping his back to the glass, and doing his best not to move his lips too much. “We gotta get you out of here man.”

“There’s a door behind you,” you put the stethoscope to his chest, “deep breath in.” He follows your directions, his eyes fixed on you, “you’ll need to take out Gordon and me and make a break for the stairwell. That’s your best shot out of here.”

He nods slowly doing his best to look dejected before his lips turn up again as you pretend to use the medical equipment on him. “That goes in my ear,” his voice hints at amusement as you use the instrument on his knee.

“Gordon needed a reason to get you alone,” you put the last of the instruments away, “I’m a coroner, none of my patients ever complain about where I put it.”

“How are we gonna do this?” Gordon acts like he’s nodding along to your diagnosis.

“I got a plan,” Batman replies, glancing between the two of you before his eyes settle on you. “Trust me,” he stands, towering over you, he’s almost two heads taller than you, and your neck cranes to look up at him. “I don’t want to hurt you, so just pretend to pass out.”

“How will I know when to-” he cuts you off when his lips press to yours, his tongue gliding against yours as you gasp.

The outrage from the other side of the glass is deafening and he pulls back to whisper in your ear, “Now.” Your eyes roll back and you fall to the ground, Gordon groaning as he falls down beside you. The officers rush over themselves to get to the Bat as he rushes through the door and up the staircase.

Gordon stands, coming over and leaning down over you, a stupid grin on your face. “You okay, kid?”

“I’m fantastic,” you smile, putting your hands behind your head. “I’m probably getting fired but I got to kiss the Batman.”

He laughs, “Way to look at the bright side.”

#Batman x Reader #Petite Female Reader #Drabble #The Batman #Battison #Autumn Writes #God I hate how batman makes me like Robert Pattison #You gotta understand I don't like him #But Batman does something to me

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sinkingnotsoslowly · 1 year

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Types of kisses Hyunjin gives

Slow and meaningful. Will devour you slowly like appreciating art. Tasting you in each of his buds. It's like he gets energy from kissing you, like a devil sucking out the soul. You are art to him and art should be taken time to worship. You cannot comprehend art in a hurry.

Hyunjin’s kisses are sensual and romantic since he is a hopeless romantic. But his kisses have a passion like fire and can be on the verge of erotic. He will start soft and light as if a feather and you will be too lost to realise when he has consumed you whole. He takes the life out of you and fills you with it at the same time.

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mama-ino · 1 year

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Autumn moon

She walked quietly through the darkened garden, the cool autumn air crisp. "A nice walk after your dinner," she said softly to the bundle in her arms.

A firm hand placed a purple haori over her shoulders, "You and these evening walks are going to be the death of this one," he grumbled.

She smiled tiredly, "It helps him sleep." She smoothed a hand over the deep blue in her arms, "Besides your mother is not far, she's been a lot of help you know."

"Mother is fiercely protective," he began, "Regardless, the night is cool."

A breeze rustled the leaves, gently blowing leaves loose into the evening sky, "oh!" The bundle in her arms stretched at the crispness of the evening air, his eyes cracking open to reveal eyes like two molten suns.

Sesshomaru raised an arm on impulse, not really thinking on the action. His sleeve billowing at the gust, shielding the tiny thing.

"Look Aki," Kagome cooed, "Papa came out to walk too." She smiled seeing Sesshomaru stare openly to their pup, "Mama must've been out too long, hm? Maybe he wanted to walk too."

They both made their way back to the manor, a beautiful autumn moon lighting their way. His soft steps following her back home, "Only with you."

Kagome smiled at his soft confession, finally speaking after a moment, "always with you."

Inukimi smiled softly at the interaction never really far from her pup's mate, her boy had grown so much.

Ah, iss'a baby 💖

#fanart #kagome #sesshomaru #kagome higurashi #sesskag #doodle #sesshomaru kagome #sesshomaru x kagome #sesshome #baby #wee pup #do i tag inukimi?#inukimi #autumn #doodle drabbles

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 7 months

Note

AAAAHHH

Ive been waiting for your inbox to open back up EEE

Going back to what i previously requested could you write a fict where the reader absolutely loves halloween and fall so they go fall shopping, get seasonal drinks (maybe even halloween costumes 👀) and its basically just smitten Matt who loves when the reader is passionate about something and he just loves the excited energy thats all around him 😙

ALSO IM SO GLAD YOUR FEELING BETTER HOPE ALL IS WELL ❤️❤️

hii!! I didn’t want to turn you down, so I gave you a few thoughts and ideas as a compromise, hope that’s okay. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

—

fall girl

matt murdock x f!reader

word count: 520

✧.┊ MASTERLIST

— he looks forward to autumn for the whole year bc he knows how happy the season makes you !!

— the first week of autumn, he books off work (I know that may not canonically be correct, but for the sake of this just go with it. also he doesn't go on patrol, so he can have more time with you, shush it's fiction, it's okay)

— so during the first week, you both do a bunch of shopping to get ready for the season ahead!! stopping past all the 'bargain' shops to fill your baskets: wreaths, pumpkins, warm-tone throws, anything and everything you want. matt obvs can't see, so he's easy, adding whatever you want to the basket to make your shared home to your liking

— (if you could, you'd start in july!! but matt persuades you to at least wait until the end of august)

— you kinda splurge a lot, getting some, albeit unnecessary items. things no one ever needs!! maybe some pumpkin cookie cutters, orange garlands, or just things that will never be used. stuff that lies around in a cabinet all year round until found again in easter

— after you shop, you get a little pick-me-up from a coffee store. revitalise yourselves a bit before the next stop. while you enjoy your drinks, you chat, talk about where everything will go when you get home, talking excitedly !! almost gushing as you peek at your items through the bag handles

— matt loves to hear you talk:(( he loves hearing your heart beat just that bit faster when you talk about things you enjoy, and it makes his feel warm to be able to listen to you- that he's special enough to enjoy your interests !!

— he loves the way your breathing quickens and how you need to take more breaths and pauses as you're talking so much and so fast. HE JUST LOVES IT !!

— when you get home, you're both very tired, so you save the decorating until tomorrow. but you throw the blankets and pillow covers in the wash so that they're ready for the next day

— you each take a shower and change into comfy pjs. you both sit on the couch as you eat your soup (you were too tired to make some, so you bought a premade one and heated it up while matt was washing- so it would be ready at the same time as him) you both dip some fresh buttered bread (you picked it up from a bakery on the way back home)

— to wind down for the night, you and matt snuggle on the sofa as you watch a comforting autumn/ halloween movie. he listens to it and imagines or falls asleep to your steady heartbeat and breathing <3

— next day, you decorate. but he has to take away your debit/credit/bank card, to stop you from ordering MORE stuff online. it's no use, bc you know all the details by heart

— a few days later, more stuff arrives and matt answers the door, turning back at you with an amused smile. you smile back, shrugging. "there was a sale."

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

matt taglist: @hailey-murdock @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @redecoratestan @kpopgirlbtssvt @scarletsloveletter @princess-pebbles-things @messymissy @schneeflocky @readerhead @thegreengoop @charmedkim @queerponcho @selfryed @simplyreflected

#request #i’m an autumn girlie so bad it hurts #matt murdock #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock drabble #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock x fem!reader #matthew murdock x reader #matthew murdock #daredevil

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drivinmeinsane · 5 months

Text

DRIVER {Maintenance}

{ drabble } ※ { masterlist }

※ Pairing: Driver x GN!Reader

※ Summary: You notice that Driver hasn't been taking proper care of his gloves. Perhaps he needs assistance.

※ Rating: T for suggestive content

※ Word count: 521

Beautiful is the word that comes to mind as you observe the man kneeling on the carpet between your spread legs. The sunlight filtering through the open blinds highlights his face, putting the unique curves of his nose in sharp relief. His long eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks. With him so close, you can see the freckles dusting his collarbone and gracing the exposed swell of his pecs. His unbuttoned henley provides just enough modesty to tease the eye. Golden boy, dazzling and distant like the sun itself.

His gloved hand is clasped in your bare one. The leather of his glove is dry, soon to be on the verge of cracking if it does not receive care. Such a terrible waste of quality lambskin. For as meticulous as Driver is with his vehicle, you are surprised he has not been tending to the material with the same quality of care.

Dipping your fingers into the open canister of leather grease at your side, you apply the thick substance along the edges of the window exposing the fine outlines of his metacarpals. His hand twitches. You soothingly work the conditioner into the leather with your thumbs, your fingertips now pressing into his warm palm from below. His hands are large, broad and thick despite his delicate wrists. The bone and layers of skin, his own and that of his glove, shift underneath your firm touch.

Turning his hand over, you massage the conditioner into his wide palm. The inhale he takes is shaky, overwhelmed. He is watching you work with a heavy lidded stare. You do not miss the way that he shifts while you work. A downcast glance confirms what you already know. He is hard, dick pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

You release his hand, letting it slowly slip free from your grasp. He jerks when your fingers drag across the exposed skin on the back of his hand. His hips involuntarily twitch forwards at the sensation.

“Lick off the excess.”

The mechanic does not hesitate to obey. He locks eyes with you. Without breaking the contact, he brings his hand to his mouth, and licks a stripe up the palm of the glove. He laps at the gathered conditioner between his digits, working his tongue in the gap between them. The flashes of pink over the brown… He slides his own fingers into his mouth, taking them to the base. Driver hollows his cheeks as he sucks. The pine tar and beeswax coats his tongue. If kissed, he would taste like a campfire.

He draws his fingers from his mouth with a wet pop. His lips are swollen to plumpness. The eyes focused on yours are glassy. His pupils are dilated, the blacks of them threatening to engulf the blue ocean that surrounds them.

“Let me see the other one.”

He closes his eyes and swallows. Shudders. His jaw is working as he tries to keep himself in check. The muscle in his cheek jumps. He grips your thigh with the hand clad in his newly moisturized glove and offers up the other hand willingly.

#Drive (2011)#drive 2011 #drive movie #ryan gosling #driver #the driver #driver x reader #drabble #drive fanfic #driver fanfic #ryan gosling fanfic #my drabbles #my posts #my work #I had to recondition my horse's tack for autumn and I got possessed.#I'm normal about Driver's gloves. I'm so normal about them.#(Please euthanize me.)

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babooshkart · 2 years

Text

a saturday kind of love by @nv-md

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ofduskanddreams · 9 months

Text

This Lovely Enigma

For @catboyjamesbond. The prompt: Royalty AU Azris, Eris is king and needs a consort. Azriel is the one who catches his eye.

Azris ✦ Rated M ✦ 2.5k words (yeah ik) ✦ on AO3

"The Ruler shall take a consort within a year of their coronation lest they forfeit the title to the Heir. The Crown is too heavy a burden to bear alone."

Eris knows that particular stipulation so well that he sees it in his dreams and behind his eyelids whenever he blinks.

His crown hits the ornately carved walnut throne with a dull thud as Eris looks to the paned glass dome of the ceiling above the dais in the empty throne room and groans.

A wry laugh echoes from his left, “Ah, let me guess: woe is me, I am but a king facing the truly arduous task of choosing a partner from a selection of the most competent and beautiful of my subjects.”

Callan has been Eris’s most loyal guard for nearly a decade. Eris would never allow such flippant sarcasm in public or from any other member of his staff, but Callan is the closest thing he has to a friend, not counting Eris’s brothers.

“I just don’t understand why my ancestors felt that such a useless clause would be one of the few immovable laws. Why do I need a consort in order to keep the title that is rightfully mine? I’ve been perfectly fine on my own so far,” Eris allows a granule of petulance to lace his words.

Cal just smiles and softly shakes his head. It’s unsettling to witness because that gesture is identical to one his mother often makes.

“There’s nothing that can be done to change it, you know that. It’s been six months since your father’s passing—stars smile gently on his soul even though he was a right bastard—and now that the mourning period is coming to a close you know you can’t afford to waste another minute. This way you are giving yourself a little time to get to know them at least.”

“If I meet them today,” Eris points out, tracing the vines carved into the throne’s arm with a ringed finger.

Knowing it’s better to voice his feelings than quash them, Eris sighs and begrudgingly continues the thought, “What if I can’t stand any of the people I meet today? Aren’t they all the children of the gentry? I don’t care about liking them, but I need to be able to tolerate them. You know how I hate sycophants, and that’s all they’re going to be—hoping that they can woo their way into the royal family and a better title.”

“Defeatism does not suit you, dear.” Serafina Vanserra, the Queen Mother, approaches the throne at an elegant glide.

Eris rises and descends the three steps of the dais. “And black did not suit you, Mother. It’s wonderful to see you in color again.”

She’s donned a wine-red gown for the occasion, the rich color making her fair skin appear lit from within. The black they’d been wearing always made her look sickly pale. This, Eris thinks, is a very welcome change.

Her lightly painted lips tug up in a smirk. “Flattery, while always welcome, will not divert my attention, Eris. Try having a little more faith in humanity. Giving up before the race has begun is the quickest way to ensure defeat.”

“I know,” Eris agrees. She’s right, of course, she is. He knows that he frequently walks the line between realism and pessimism and, while such an attitude guarantees that he is always prepared for worst-case scenarios and puts secondary measures in place for every plan, it is not an ideal outlook for the day ahead of him.

His mother raises a brow, waiting.

“I promise to try,” Eris tells her. “I wouldn’t have bothered setting up this whole affair if I did not intend to make an attempt. It would have been far more efficient to simply select a name from a list but, believe it or not, my heart is not made of stone.”

“I know that, darling.” Her hand is soft and warm, the touch to his cheek a brief allowance of the affection that they’d been denied for so many years. “But it’s my hope that you will permit others to learn this as well.”

The ‘now that he’s gone’ hangs unspoken in the air between them.

“I hope so too,” Eris replies. It’s the best he can do while remaining honest.

Hope, an ember banked for years upon years has, against every odd, retained its glow. Eris might even go as far as to say that, since his father’s death, the ember has sparked a flame.

✦ ✦ ✦

Azriel tries his best to hold still while his mother fusses with his jacket collar, but he’s restless.

“There,” Zahra smiles proudly as she steps to the side so he can view his reflection in the long mirror.

He scarcely recognizes the man staring back at him. His typically unruly hair is swept back off his forehead and tamed by something that smells faintly sweet. The clothes he’s wearing are finer than anything he’s owned before. The jacket is sapphire blue, laced up the back in gold—the same gold laces that begin at his wrists and end at his forearms.

He’d thought the process of donning the garment ridiculously complicated, but Azriel can’t help thinking that the effect might be worth the effort. He looks… elegant? Everything is tighter than he’s used to. The jacket clings to the curve of his waist, and the breadth of his shoulders. The trousers are impossibly soft and fit like a second skin. His boots are supple black leather and buffed to a shine.

It’s not just the clothes though. What really makes his reflection so foreign is the tint on his lips and cheeks, making it appear like he’s slightly flushed; it’s the hint of kohl smudged into his lashes and bringing a new brightness to his eyes.

“My beautiful boy, my Azriel. Look at you,” his mother murmurs and the rosiness of his cheeks darkens at the sheer pride in her voice.

“Thank you,” for this, for everything. The emotional rasp of his words embarrasses him.

It’s a public secret that Azriel is Lord Blackwell’s bastard despite his father’s begrudging formal claim. He’s certain that, had the decision been left to his father alone, he would have turned them out on the street. It had only been his paternal grandmother, to whom his mother was and is chief caregiver, threatening to change her will and cut him off that made the lord claim Azriel as his own.

Sometimes, less often now than when he was young, Azriel wonders if life may have been better had they been forced to fend for themselves. It’s a notion he quickly shakes off. Who’s to say what could have happened? It was pointless to dwell upon.

“I’ve raised you for this, there’s no need to be anxious.” She takes his fidgeting hands in her own, thumbs tracing arcs over the pale web of scars.

“I know,” Azriel assures her, dropping her hands with a squeeze to pull on his gloves. Knowing that he is thoroughly prepared has no effect on how he feels though.

Only a fool wouldn’t be nervous before being presented as a potential consort to the king.

Azriel has caught glimpses of the then-prince now-king over the years, but there’s one memory that stands above all the rest:

He was five and hiding from his brothers. Azriel had wandered into the stable as he often did and climbed the rickety ladder into the hayloft.

Unlike all those previous afternoons spent up there, however, the hayloft was already occupied. A red-haired boy was sitting on his heels on the far side, his hand outstretched to something in the hay.

“What are you doing?” Azriel asked as he approached.

The boy startled, his honey-colored eyes narrowing at Azriel. “Who are you?”

“My name is Azriel. Who are you?”

“You don’t know who I am?”

“Should I?”

The boy had laughed then and beckoned him over to come see.

One of the barn cats had given birth to a litter of kittens. Azriel forgot all about his brothers as they passed the afternoon watching the kittens stumble around each other as their mother took turns licking them down.

It was only after the boy left that Azriel realized he’d never been told his name.

The next time he saw the boy, a few months later, he was crossing the west courtyard with his mother.

“Bow!” She hissed at him, dropping into a graceful curtsey as the boy and two guards walked past them. Azriel bent at the waist, waiting for his mother to rise before straightening his spine.

“Who was that, Mother?”

She looked at him, astonished. “That was Prince Eris. One day he will be our king.”

“Oh.”

It’s childish but, as Azriel makes his way down to the carriage his grandmother has arranged to take him to the palace, he can’t help wondering if Eris will remember him. If, maybe, he will look at Azriel and be reminded of golden dust motes and the sweet smell of hay just as Azriel is whenever he sees the king.

He chides himself for being foolish as the carriage trundles through the city streets. He cannot afford to let something as asinine as sentiment distract him. This is his only opportunity to secure a better life for his mother, and he refuses to jeopardize it because of one afternoon a lifetime ago, even if that afternoon is one of the best he’s ever had.

✦ ✦ ✦

Eris smiles politely as the next prospect is introduced. The firstborn of Lord Arminta has an education overseen by a herd of tutors and an admittedly impressive number of instruments they play proficiently. They’re beautiful in the way a painting is beautiful—attention grabbing and pleasing to the eye—but Eris carries out a brief conversation with them as he has with everyone else who has been escorted through the throne room doors and feels nothing.

As they go to join the other dozen prospects already milling about the refreshment tables, Eris leans over to ask his mother, “How many more are there?”

“You’re about halfway through.”

Eris swallows his groan, kings aren’t allowed. Callan’s posted by the doors and Eris looks at him with a subtle nod, signifying that he should send the next one in.

A hush falls over the room as the doors swing open to reveal what may just be the most striking person Eris has ever seen. Familiarity nags at him but he can’t recall why.

“Azriel Blackwell, he is the son of Lord Blackwell,” his mother supplies as she’s done for all the others.

Azriel.

Somehow he knows that name, but he’s too distracted by the sight of his present to wonder about the past. Sharp hazel eyes watch him from a face that would not have been out of place on one of the statues in the sculpture gallery. This is a man who has been crafted by a mastered and magnanimous hand. His clothes are well-tailored, hinting at the power of lean muscles and showcasing elegantly proportioned limbs.

The way he moves, grace belying strength, reminds Eris of a mountain lion, and yet those lovely eyes betray him. He’s not as confident as he is pretending to be, but Eris can hardly fault him for that.

Before the thought is fully formed, Eris stands as Azriel stops before the dais. He’s remained seated for the others but something is urging him to go to him so he does.

Azriel’s eyes widen before they drop to the floor, and he quickly folds into a bow.

Eris doesn’t stop until he’s only an arm’s length away. “Rise,” he bids. His voice is softer than intended.

Azriel does, but his eyes remain fixed on Eris’s boots. Eris is only an inch or two taller than him which is a nice change.

“Have we met before?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Once, when we were children.” Azriel’s voice is rich and smooth, and Eris grins a little because he finds it pleasing.

“Azriel,” Eris ponders aloud. It’s a beautiful name, unusual too. So why can’t he… “Kittens in the hayloft.”

Finally, Azriel looks up at him and there’s a questioning intensity in his gaze that sends a thrill up Eris’s spine. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Eris’s smile widens, and he dares to hope it’s that expression which causes a soft grin to spread on Azriel’s face.

“By the stars,” Eris muses, scarcely resisting the urge to trace the curve of Azriel’s lower lip with his thumb, to press and see if that mouth would open to him.

“Is something wrong, Your Majesty?” Azriel inquires carefully.

“Far from it.” It’s just that his memory of a small scrawny boy with dirt on his forehead and a scraped knee poking through a hole in his trousers is difficult to reconcile with the person who stands before him now. “You’re rather exquisite, you know.”

This time, Eris allows himself an indulgence. He brushes a dark curl off Azriel’s forehead where it had fallen out of place with his bow.

Whether Azriel’s beautiful blush is the result of the compliment or Eris’s touch, Eris doesn’t care—either is a delightful prospect.

“Your Majesty is too kind,” Azriel says, dipping his head as if it will conceal the color on his golden brown cheeks.

“I assure you I am no such thing,” Eris huffs a laugh. “But if you fear my words are contrived, allow me to press upon you the sincerity of my confession over tea?”

“Tea, Your Majesty?” Azriel looks confused and Eris thinks it’s rather adorable.

“Yes.” Eris glances over his shoulder, giving his mother a pointed look which is met with a pleased grin. “I’m very curious to learn more about you, Azriel. If you’ll do me the honor of joining me?” On impulse, Eris holds out his hand.

“The honor is mine, Your Majesty. I find myself plagued by a similar curiosity.” There’s a hint of a smirk in Azriel’s polite smile, an edge of something that Eris cannot wait to unearth.

Azriel takes his hand but, to Eris’s dismay, he’s wearing gloves. That won’t do. Eris needs this man’s skin beneath his fingers. He takes Azriel’s wrist in one hand and tugs off the glove with the other, bowing to press a lingering kiss to his scarred knuckles.

Eris’s thumb trails over the ridges and divots. When he glances up at Azriel, he’s surprised to see the man’s eyes wide in horror. That won’t do either.

Of course, Eris had anticipated that he’d worn the gloves for a reason, but he didn’t care about how the scars felt though he was curious to know how they got there and knew he wouldn’t like the eventual answer.

Holding Azriel’s gaze, Eris lifts his hand to his lips this time. “Beautiful,” he says, then kisses the word into the scarred skin.

Azriel inhales sharply; the sound wavering a little even as the tense set of his shoulders vanishes.

Not yet willing to release this lovely enigma named Azriel, Eris tucks his hand into the crook of his elbow. “Shall we get that tea, then?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Azriel says, fingers flexing on Eris’s arm.

Oh yes, I intend to be.

“The pleasure,” Eris lets some of the hunger stirring in his gut fill his gaze, “is all mine, Azriel.”

✦ ✦ ✦

tagging: @damedechance @ablogofsapphicpanic @iftheshoef1tz @panicatthenightcourt @moonpatroclus @the-lonelybarricade @krem-does-stuff @octobers-veryown @foundress0fnothing @melonsfantasyworld @fieldofdaisiies @lady-riel @queercontrarian @valkyrieassassin @brokeneveningstars @areyoudreaminof @itsthedoodle @xtaketwox @talons-and-teeth @thelovelymadone

#azris #azris fanfiction #azris fanfic #azriel x eris #eris x azriel #eris vanserra #eris acotar #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel's mom #lady of the autumn court #lady vanserra #acotar fanfiction #acotar #royalty au #acotar au #acotar ao3 #kate's celebratory drabbles series

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