#nyx drabbles☆

[puppykento]

whipped - husband!nanami x fem!reader [drabble]

a/n: my first time writing nanami purely bcs every time i think about him i start shaking violently

cw: 18+ content, domestic fluff, soft, counter sex, he bites you once

You're sitting next to the sink on the bathroom counter, your wedding band placed next to you as you lather your hands up in shaving foam. You rub it onto Kento's lower face and throat, covering every inch of skin that tends to sprout prickly, blonde stubble. His large hands are resting on your waist as he stands between your legs, your thighs squeezing his hips.

"You're giving me that look again, Ken." You say with a small smile, rinsing off your hands in the water-filled sink before grabbing his razor, gently gliding it along his face, being careful to catch all the hairs without pulling on his skin.

"What look, angel?" He replies, his eyes locked onto your face as you shave him, fondness overtaking his gaze. That look is the exact one you mean, the one where he acts as if you hung the moon and all the stars in the sky. Like you're the only girl he's ever seen. You shake your head softly at his words, clearing the razor from the foam and hair that's built up before gliding it along his skin once more.

"You're whipped." You tease, a cheeky smile coming to your face as you drag the razor through the foam once more. With a wet cloth, you clean the left over shaving cream from his face, running your fingers along the skin to make sure it's smooth before gripping his chin lightly, tilting his head up to expose the sensitive flesh of his throat. The movement makes him grunt, and you can feel his cock filling out against your thigh.

"Mhm. My wife is so beautiful. Any man with sense would be whipped." He breathes out, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows down the lump in his throat from being so close to you, his grip on your waist tightening until his hands have bunched up the fabric of your shirt.

"Ah, is that so?" You reply, letting out a breathy laugh as you put the razor down, rinsing off any last traces of hair or shaving foam from your husbands face before patting his skin dry with a towel. He nods, leaning down to press a kiss to your jawline, trailing them down your neck before he sucks a mark into the skin right above your shirt collar.

"It's a fact, dear. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever laid my eyes on." He murmurs between kisses, raising your shirt before pulling it off, pulling back to do the same to his own shirt. He lets out a soft whimper as your fingers trail over his toned stomach, his muscles tensing at your touch.

"Need you, pretty girl." He whispers against your skin, his cock twitching against your thigh and rock hard. You'd only been wearing his shirt, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He slips his pyjama pants down along with his boxers - just enough to free his erection. His breath hitches as the cold air hits his arousal heated skin, his hands shifting to grip your thighs and spread them, his fingers digging in slightly. You shiver at the cold of his wedding ring against your flushed skin, letting your head thump back against the wall.

"I'm all yours, Kento." You reply softly, your eyelids slightly hooded as you watch him slip the fabric of your panties to the side, his free hand gripping the base of his cock before he slides forward, a low moan spilling from your lips as he presses into your entrance inch by inch. He pulls you more towards the edge of the bathroom counter so he can reach deeper, the head of his dick meeting your cervix as he buries himself to the hilt inside of your tight heat.

"Oh, fuck, baby... she's soaked." He moans, his brows pinching together as he stays still for a moment, taking in how your walls squeeze his length, sucking him in. He'd never leave if he could help it. He reaches down to gather some of your slick and use it to rub small circles into your clit. "This all for me?"

All you can do is nod, gasping as his thumb rubs your swollen bud. His hips start to rock into you gently, his head hanging back as pleasure overtakes him, low groans and sounds of pleasure leaving him. Strands of blonde hair hang lose as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, dangling in front of his eyes as he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Pretty pussy made just for me..." His words are punctuated by a particularly rough thrust, his cock bumping against your sweet spot just as he brushes his thumb against your clit. The coil in your stomach snaps, your orgasm rushing through you as you clench around your husband's dick.

"Shit." He grunts as he feels you cum, your arousal coating him. His movements grow more sloppy, his cock barely leaving you before he's burying it deep inside of you once more, his mouth hanging open as his on orgasm builds inside of him. "Mmph... my wife's milkin' my dick so well."

His head drops into the crook of your neck as he cums, biting down on your skin gently as he snaps his hips forward, shooting ribbons of white into your cunt. His teeth release your flesh after a moment and he presses a tender kiss to the bite. He pulls away and gives you a sweet smile, his hands moving to your hips as his thumbs gently stroke your skin.

"I love you so much, Ken..." You say softly, leaning forward to press your forehead against his, your arms coming up to loop around his neck.

"I love you even more, my angel."

[midnightarcheress]

drabble // beach day with the one and only soap mactavish.

"johnny, can't you be quiet for a moment?" you ask, putting dots of sunscreen on your boyfriend's back. you've tried to reason with him multiple times about the importance of being protected against solar radiation, but does he care? not in the slightest.

"cannae do it quicker?" he retorts, feet anxiously tapping the sand as you lather the cream on his shoulders.

you roll your eyes, finishing distributing the remaining white spots of the product and moving to his front. "look up for me," your index tilts his chin upwards, narrowed eyes meeting his eager blue ones, "just a second, love," you say, fingers gently spreading the sunblock on his forehead, nose, cheeks and neck.

he squeezes your waist repeatedly, a childish attempt to urge you to end his torture. with a peck on his lips, you put him out of his misery, "all done," and the man leaps out of his seat, wasting no time to dig in the sand.

"gonnae build a castle for mah princess."

this appeared to me in a tiktok dream

[throneofsapphics]

can i req a little drabble with nyx? i imagine nyx to be a bit like feyre but also being on the more broody side. perhaps where reader gets the “meeting the family” dinner with the IC and shes like a ball pf sunshine, complete opposite to nyx?

ambushes and invitations

Nyx x Reader

Summary: Told it's finally time, Nyx takes you to meet his family.

Warnings: none

A/N: thank you for the request! I love grumpy sunshine so much. 

“I’m excited,” you insisted - almost bouncing on your toes as you walked together. 

“You really shouldn’t be,” he grumbled, hand shooting out to grab yours. He pulled you in close - a bit too abruptly, and you stumped over your feet, a laugh echoing from your chest as you slammed into him, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you steady. Nyx’s mouth indented at one corner, eyes shining as he glanced down at you. Pausing, he licked his thumb, brushing against your jawline, a tinge of blue appearing on his finger. A spot of paint from earlier. Letting go of your waist, he kept his hold on your hand and your feet carried you down the path, footsteps light on the cobblestone. You’d insisted on walking - giving you time to wrap your mind around what the evening would look like. 

He’d ambushed you at your home, where you were in the middle of trying to paint a gift, and ‘invited’ you to a family dinner. You couldn’t refuse, and the limited timeframe gave you less time for a ball of nerves to build. It wasn’t wholly effective. Truth be told, you were somewhat nervous. His family was intimidating to say the least, but you’d grown up around what you considered were intimidating people, and this was another dinner - at least you told yourself that.

The next time you tripped - a loose rock, not your fault, Nyx covered it - bringing your arm above your head and spinning you.

“Are you nervous?” You asked, as you drew closer to your destination. 

“Me?” His eyes rolled. “Never, darling.” 

Your eyes lit up in amusement. “Never? Because I remember very clearly the one time -” 

A pinch to your side cut off your words, and you realized you were within hearing distance of two winged figures. You’d been distracted looking up at Nyx, and a light blush covered your cheeks. 

“Don’t stop on our accord,” one of the males - Cassian, you recognized, said. 

You grinned. “Once, we were-” 

Nyx’s hand clapped over your mouth, muffling your words. 

Both were friendly, even though you had the keen awareness your every move and expression was being monitored. That’s fine by you, there was nothing you felt the need to hide. 

They all introduced themselves, but you already knew exactly who they were. Rhys, your High Lord insisted you call him Rhys, same with your High Lady. Nyx spoke of them so freely, a few complaints littered here and there, but actually meeting them as his parents was different. Sure, you’d seen both of them in Velaris at one point or another, but this was a completely different context. Maybe in your mind you’d created a different persona for them - Nyx’s parents. Either way, the two versions from your mind had no choice but to meld now. 

“What do you do for work?” Feyre asked. This was a subject you could speak on for ages.

“I’m a teacher, for toddlers.” The spot of glitter on your wrist caught the light at the perfect time. 

“Do you like it?” Her head tilted. 

“I absolutely love it,” you replied and lulled into an easy conversation, some of your nerves fading. 

Back and forth, questions bounced across the table - about nearly every subject, and you fielded all of them the best you could. Nyx seemed to glare at anyone who asked things a bit too personal or touchy. 

-

“How’d someone like you end up with this broody asshole?” His uncle didn’t even wince as Nyx kicked him in the shin. Hopefully hard enough to leave a bruise. 

“That’s what I want to know,” Mor said - glancing between the two of you.

Nyx cut in before you could answer. “Easy, I won her over.” 

“Easy?” You raised your brows, amusement in your eyes. 

“Not exactly.” 

Your eyes seemed to say; good save. 

Gods, he remembers the weeks he spent ‘chasing’ you, and trying to get the point across that he liked you as more than a friend. You were a ball of pure light and joy, bright enough to make him seem like a dark and stormy cloud, and he loved you for it. His little ball of sunshine, although everyone else was stealing your attention right now. 

You’d been seeing each other for a few months when his parents finally put their foot down and insisted on meeting you. Everything was a bit last minute, and he felt a tad guilty for ‘inviting’ you with less than an hour, but it was a casual affair, and you were in good spirits about it - nearly exploding out of your skin the entire way here. 

So far, it seemed to be going well. You were sitting directly next to Mor, and the two of you were making easy conversation. 

Cassian caught his eye, an amused look on his face. 

What is it? Nyx slipped into his mind. 

She’s nice. Talkative. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Seems like she’s good for you. 

Nyx brought himself back into the present, aware of your conversation starting to dwindle next to him. He found you looking at him with a curious expression, but a tinge of worry in your eyes, grabbing your hand under the table, he gave you what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. 

“Do you have any Solstice plans?” His mother asked, a gleam in her eyes. That’s all it took for him to know she was absolutely smitten with you, but he still fought a wince at her direct question - he knew you didn’t, and if this went well he’d already planned on inviting you.  

“I don’t,” your words were softer than normal - maybe a bit unsure. Nyx squeezed your hand again, hoping he wasn’t crushing your fingers. 

“Perfect,” she clapped her hands together. “Join us.” 

“If you want to,” he added, meeting your eyes. 

Really? 

She wouldn’t have offered otherwise. 

The mental equivalent of an eye roll came through before you beamed at her and agreed. 

-

Nyx flew you home, refusing to let you walk on your own and in the dark. You chose not to argue with him this time. Besides, you liked seeing the city from above, all of the glittering lights, and especially in his arms. 

“You,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, closing your door behind him with his foot.

“Me?” 

One arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you in close. “You are wonderful.” 

Your words were muffled, face pressed against him, “where’s this coming from?” 

He loosened his arms just enough for you to look up at him. “You survived them.” 

Lips turning up at the corners, you poked his chest. “Survived?” 

“You know what I mean,” he sighed.

“Sure,” you tucked yourself back into him. 

“First, I would love to have you there,” he prefaced, hand running down your hair - and your heart jumped. “But you don’t have to come to Solstice if you don’t want to, or if it’s too soon.” 

“That might be the most words I’ve heard you say in a row.” 

He pinched your side before continuing, “I know she put you on the spot.” 

You slid one hand up to rest on his chest - just above his thundering heart. “I would love,” you repeated his words, “to be there.” 

“Thank the gods,” he breathed, pulling you close again.

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Bad Idea, Right?

An Eris x Reader drabble

(Part 2) (Part 3)

Warnings: a bit smutty, language

“Your dad’s going to kill you.”

My head was pounding. This bed was so warm.

Last night was a blur.

Nyx, how many times do I have to request that you not intrude on my thoughts before 9 am.

“It’s almost noon, cousin.”

Shit!

Shit, cover for me! Please.

“I told you this was a bad idea.”

Right. I know. Cover for me anyway?

“One hour. Be here in one hour. You owe me.”

Don’t worry, Nyxie. I’ll cover for you the next time you visit the lovely daughter of Spring.

Slamming my mental shields up, I rolled over to the fiery lover next to me with a groan, “Get me out of this autumnal wasteland.”

“Good morning to you too, little one.” the redhead pressed against my backside grumbled.

I rolled over to smack his shoulder. “Gross, Eris. I’m the same age as Aunt Nesta when you proposed to her.”

Eris smirked. “She never called me daddy like you do.”

I let out a mirthful laugh, hoisting myself on top of him, straddling just below his rippled abdomen, “I’m never fucking you again.”

“You say that every time, dear.” Gripping his hands on my hips, groggy voice a whisper, “Yet somehow you keep falling back into my bed.”

Fuck. He was so hot.

I leaned down, pressing my breasts to his bare chest, face just an inch from his. “I can’t help that my shadows love how you beg.”

A growl escaped the back of his throat as my shadows restrained his wrists above his head. My gaze turned icy as I commanded, “Eyes on me, Eris.”

His only response a shift of his hips.

“Don’t fucking move.” I purred.

Nyx could keep the family off my back for a little longer.

[nyxthejinx]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧

Guess who's back- yeahh Wrio altered my brain chemistry and i gotta cope with everything that just happened in the archon quest (iykyk). I haven't written in ages, I'm a bit rusty :')

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Slow mornings are the sweetest.

𝐓𝐖: Fluff (incredible, I know) nudity and intimacy in general (nothing too explicit, more on the romantic side), allusions to the night before, reader loves wrio's butt and is shameless about it (don't we all), mention of scars (wrio's), I tried to proof read it multiple times but my brain is fighting against me, lemme know if I missed anything

𝐅𝐭.: Wriothesley - GN!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1056

𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨: Eclipse - Pink Floyd

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 that his body is covered with scars, nor does he try to hide them. But the bedside lamp and the afterglow shed a new light on him, one that only you have the privilege of enjoying.

He sits at the edge of the bed, hands by his sides, sinking comfortably in the mattress. The slightest twitch of his muscles can't go unnoticed, not when everything is so slow and still as if time had stopped.

But that's what happens in the Fortress, no? Unless you keep an eye on the watch, minutes and hours blend into a placid flow, until you end up thinking you have all the time in the word.

That's why you lay down the clocks in the room, when darkness begins its descent up in the overworld.

Because you get to see him like this. Sleep ridden, quiet, a bit grumpier than usual. Shamelessly naked from head to toe, with the sheets thrown over his lap for the sake of decorum, as if you didn’t see and feel each other all night along.

This morning too, he stills for minutes on end, staring ahead and gifting you the precious sight of his toned back, now painted with marks and scratches fresh from the night. He runs a hand on his nape, down his shoulder and you know he loves the stinging carvings you left behind with your nails.

But your favourite part rests further down.

“You have a nice butt.” You mumble with a lazy smile, as you let your eyes wander to his lower back. “I ought to tell you more."

Wriothesley looks over his shoulder just enough to glare at you, but you know that fiery glimmer stems from amusement; the way his eyes wrinkle at the sides nullifies the frown creasing his brows.

He's lovely, incredibly entertaining whenever he tries and fails to hide his eagerness for compliments.

The man huffs through his nose, shaking his head before standing up. He holds the fabric around his waist, now covering his rear out of spite, as he rummages through the small puddles of discarded clothes on the room's floor.

You, on the other hand, aren't as diligent as he is. There's no hurry, no impending chores more important than this moment as you make yourself comfortable on your side, in the softness of your pillow —that inevitably smells like him too.

Only a fool wouldn't enjoy how incredibly clumsy he appears right now, fighting with the sheets and getting more and more impatient with every passing second that he can't find his underwear.

It's like admiring the dark side of the moon, knowing that no one else gets the same privilege, the same trust.

Which... Might be revoked after this little stunt you pulled.

"Looking for these?"

Wrio's head snaps towards you and his frown deepens at the sight of his boxers hanging from your hooked fingers. You smirk, backing away as far as you can, until he's forced to stretch across the bed and over your body.

You can't help but giggle and snicker, too amused and definitely too confident in the power you hold over him. You both know his pinky finger would be enough to turn the tables, but he wordlessly enjoys this silly game between you two, just like he adores seeing your petty smirk.

Oh, and how he loves wiping it off your face. If he only had more time, in this dreaded Monday morning.

Without much effort, he eventually grabs the garment. "Pervert." He mutters, pinching the skin below your ribs.

You flinch, chuckling breathlessly. "Mean."

But not wrong. You can't stop your eyes from drifting down, where the sheets have slipped dangerously low after all the fighting.

Everything, from his scarred pecks and abs, to his V line looks so... imperfect, gruff, hostile. He's a man who's rough around the edges, like the claw marks that decorate his throat; hardened by life, on guard all the time.

Untrusting.

And yet, he shows his back to you without much thought.

Even now, with his pants back on, he plops into his previous position idly, placid in his every move.

There's no need to check for threats, because there's none.

And you realise once again —like you do every day— that you're not ready for the sun to come up and for the moon to switch sides.

For him to glance back.

There's things that need to be done, affairs that only the Duke can handle, no matter how greedy and jealous of his presence you are. Your hands itch to wrap around his wrist, to pull him back by your side for another hour or two.

Wriothesley, on the other hand, spins along without thinking twice, as he adjusts his boots back on. Hadn't you known him long enough, you'd dare to say he doesn't yearn for you as much as you yearn for him, but it's the little things that speak in his stead.

It's the lazily unbuckled belt, the messy hair, wobbling around with his every little movement. "I'll do it later, for it means that we'll spend more time together" they say.

It's the blemished, vulnerable back, offered so humbly.

And suddenly you can't resist the urge anymore.

You navigate your way through the sea of sheets to wrap your arms around his waist, and your bare front against his back stops his motions altogether. Blurred memories from the early night flare up one more time, as your lips burn invisible seals on the skin of his shoulder. Every mellow kiss is so fond, intimate. Just for the two of you to feel.

Never have you felt a stronger sense of belonging. Not when he relaxes so easily in your presence and the world ceases to spin.

When turning his back to you feels so natural.

"Be careful, mh?" You kiss the crook of his neck again, while your hands trace the rough skin around his navel. "I want your pretty butt to be safe and sound."

Wrio's deep chuckle shakes his shoulders and chest, and you feel it deep deep deep in your own heart.

"Your wish, my command." He hums, his coarse fingers guiding one of your wrists to his lips.

The moon, you decide, is prettier when it's dark.

DON'T copy/repost/translate my work. REBLOG instead! ©nyxthejinx

[nexusnyx]

ㅤㅤㅤ— ˏˋ꒰under neon lights꒱

→ Based on this request. [WC: 1.1k]

Joel became an expert on many things in this damned life, but running away from something he wants is not one of them. OR; How you're Joel Miller's worst (best) habit .ೃ࿐

Although he'd love to say he "tried his best", Joel's no liar.

He never tried a goddamn thing.

Not even once.

The moment he saw it in you—the glint of something wicked looking for any inch of ground to sink teeth and claws in, the spark of desire meeting him, he was done for. Joel dug his heels and stood his ground despite his instincts, not knowing what would come of this.

"Hey, handsome."

Initially, he thought those to be a joke. Now, Joel knows better. "Thought you wouldn't come," is his answer.

You laugh under your breath, the air turning white in front of you.

Joel watches as you remove your coat, boots, and place all of your items in their proper places. The house Tommy found for him is small just like he wanted and it serves its purpose—Ellie's got a roof over her head, and Joel has pieces of furniture and cracks in the walls he busies himself with. It's more than he could've asked for after years of cleaning sewages or doing god knows who's dirty work.

Your disposition to come over to his place every Friday night and sit with him while everyone else hangs around the town's square for food and drinks never faltered.

Joel serves you the whiskey and sits on his porch chair, knowing you'll follow suit.

During the first visits, Joel's had some of the best conversation of his lifetime.

Even if it felt like this was his third one already—he remembered how good it was to have someone else around who also wanted to just enjoy the peace and quiet. Someone who took pleasure in knowing that this was real luxury. This was luck.

Then, Joel remembered how it felt to learn your visits and company were also the thing he kept denying himself.

Lingering looks. The burning touch of your hand brushing against his at every given opportunity. Sultriness dripped from your voice every now and then when he spoke of things that demanded intimacy. When the topic verged on real things, Joel recalled seeing you lick your dry lips and look him dead in the eye before responding, as if daring him to say you were joking, or even ask if you meant your words.

"I don't come here because I'm lonely, Miller. Is that what you think of yourself? That your company's good as nothing?"

"What?"

"Saying that implies your company offers me nothing when you know that's not true. You see me smilin' at you around town, waving hi, waiting for you to appear in the meetings just so I can have someone else to offer my incredibly witty remarks. You're not the go-to 'cause I'm lonely—which, by the way, I'm not."

"Figured you were. Haven't seen anyone else demand your attention back from me."

"It's 'cause they know it'd be worthless."

"Why'd you come then?"

"'Cause I like talking to you, jackass. Why else?"

"I—I haven't..."

"Haven't what? Interacted properly with another adult person in a while? That's okay, we'll take baby steps."

"Don't laugh at me, that ain't nice, sweetheart."

"I thought I was laughing with you..."

"All of this is weird."

"Which part? Having a life again? ... Yeah, it's weird."

Joel hated it when you were at a loss for words now.

It was more than just a habit after all these times—seeking the heat of your skin as you leaned against the wooden porch. His hand moved under your jumper and shirt, opening wide on the lower part of your back. He caressed the skin slowly and watched you from the side as you looked forward.

It was stupid to ask if something was wrong when everything around everyone sort of crumbled to pieces daily, so instead, Joel made a grunting sound to get your attention back on him.

When you looked up, something shone. The redness of your bitten lips made him want to soothe away your pain. Maybe kiss them until they are numb. Sometimes, Joel pretended he could lick you clean from any harm or any sin.

It's a whisper when your voice cuts through the howling wind of the night. "D'you think we'll ever be more than... this?"

It hits like a rock to his stomach.

This—late nights stolen like the first kisses were. Hidden messages, looks, touches, all hidden underneath some shame. All the taking and giving and taking again, both so lost in the pleasure and the touch that neither are capable of looking away when the other pins one with their eyes.

This—crying, and begging, and moaning, all muttered and exhaled because they were pulled, earned, and nothing could stop the pleasure from drooling from the lips.

This—a secret. A habit. A battle cry.

"I don't know." Joel wants to, though. His hand on your back squeezes harder, and he molds the front of his body to fit the back of yours. "I'm..." a lot. Too much. Never bold enough to think about these things. "A lot different than I was when I first got here."

There's a short laugh. "I know. I remember." Your hands smooth the way from his hands to his forearm, and you make yourself more compact to fit in his hold. "I just... I lied to my sister to come here tonight, and..."

It all added up. "Right." Did you have to? "Why did you?"

He regrets asking the second the words are out because the memory floods back with you quoting his words to him. "This is the last time we're doing this." He said that, back when he was still in denial you wanted him too. "I'm not sure if—"

Joel spins you so abruptly that it shuts you up. "I meant that back then, but it's not true," he shakes his head. "I was saying that more to cover my own ass than anything."

"Cover from what?"

"From how stupid I'd feel once you noticed I'm not what you want."

The silence that follows makes his nape itch. Joel's mind learned to listen for all the threats in the woods and the quiet of the houses surrounding them, but his eyes were glued to you.

You tilt your head at him, analyzing him so thoroughly that Joel does fidget.

"Is that what you thought?"

"It was." He can hear the exasperation in your tone as much as he can hear the surrender in his. "I don't mind if you tell people where you're going—honestly." Joel chuckles. "If I'm lucky enough you want to come back..."

Your arms came up higher and hugged around his shoulders. "This is not where I hoped this conversation would go," your pleased smile only makes his inside feel like they're growing too. "You be careful what you say, Miller."

"I ain't scared." His words already got him feeling like an outsider or perhaps an outlaw, so fuck him—he'd use them to keep you looking at him like this for a change. "I mean it." He could get addicted to this.

☆ inbox 💌 ㅤㅤㅤ☆ tip jar ♡ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ☆ masterlist ✒️

[heartless-tate]

Holding you until you fall asleep. - K. Cigarettes after sex

RHYSAND X READER

Summary; just a short little comfort fic. Reader has a bad day, Rhys puts you to sleep.

warnings; cussing maybe? Really short just a Drabble. I wrote this mostly for myself. Rhysand blocks out negative thoughts, bad day, little bit of angst with comfort, No use of Y/n, I didn’t have time to look over or edit sorry!

word count; around 500 words

a/n; Heyy! This is just a little comfort fic. Hope you enjoy.

Warmth. Complete and utter warmth was all you felt as leathery wings tucked you in closer. 

Today had been a bad day. No- an awful day. So many bad things kept happening that eventually whenever you couldn’t get your pen to work, you had bursted into tears. In front of everyone. Embarrassingly so. 

Everyone had gone silent watching as you threw the pen on the table and stomped away shutting yourself in your mate’s room. He hadn’t been there yet, off at the Illyria camps ensuring everything was okay. The laughter and talking began soon after you slammed the door shut to his room and climbed into his bed. Big fat wet tears raced down your face as you shoved your head into a pillow and screamed. 

Rhysand had found you a few minutes later, wasting no time in removing his clothes that stunk and putting on cleaner ones. And then carefully lifting you up into his arms as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He had you straddle his waist as he shushed you with a finger to your lips. His heart broke into tiny fragments at seeing you cry. He gently kissed away your tears, before placing his forehead on yours and holding your face with two hands. His thumbs mindlessly rubbed gently at your cheeks as he peered into your eyes. 

You said nothing, wanting to squirm under his watchful gaze but you knew he wouldn’t let you go. It took a while for you to realize he genuinely loved you and would never judge you when the bond first snapped. But now you knew he loved you no matter what. You eyes closed as you felt talons scraping lovingly at your mind asking for permission to enter. You opened your shields allowing your mate in, to see everything. 

He carefully absorbed everything that had happened today before starting to block any negative thoughts. He’d let you see any thoughts of importance in the morning but for now, he was very aware you wouldn’t close your eyes and sleep with all the stress you had locked up in your mind. He started hiding and removing any evidence of your bad day, relaxing and calming your mind to a peaceful stillness of only positive thoughts. He didn’t plant thoughts in your head- he just only let you think peacefully. 

It was comforting- not having to struggle to control your hurricane of a mind. You briefly felt Rhys moving you so he cradled you while laying down. You now laid in his left wing while his right was laid over you as a protective shield from the outside world. Everything went quiet, and heat radiated from his body. You felt his talons caressing and holding your mind for you and it was a strange type of relief you had never felt before. As he whispered comforting and loving words in your ears, all you could do was fight for your eyes to stay open- to listen to his praise. But his hand came to lovingly rub your back.

You eyes shut and as you drifted to a comforting sleep, the last thing you heard was,

“I will love you for eternity, my darling.” 

[moonlit-femme]

A fantasy I posted elsewhere but you all should be able to experience Subby!Nyx too as a treat. She doesn’t come around too often….

I really want to be fucked senselessly. I want to feel them grab my hip and light push my back so I know to bend over with my ass on display for them. Having them get on their knees and eating me out while my brain slowly melts and all of the thoughts leave my brain for a moment. All over I feel the tip of their strap/girlcock teasing at me. Then they grab my hips, not to heard but forceful enough to guide me, and they pull me onto it. Giving me a moment to let me adjust to the full length of it, legs shaking and whimpering. And slowly they’ll start moving. Then a little faster. A little rougher. Until they eventually reach a point where all you can hear is face paced thrusts as they fuck my wet cunt. I become a mess of moans and gasps, unable to form sentences much less words. And then I eventually reach a point where my body starts shaking, I tighten up, and my juices are flowing down my legs as I catch myself from the orgasm. Unable to keep myself standing up and unable to form a coherent thought aside from giggling from being completely blissed out, they would pick me up and toss into bed before cuddling me as I drift to sleep from the exhaustion.

[itsthedoodle]

Memory

For @officialrhysandweek 🩵

A drabble for day 6: Pastimes

“Oh, that is a great card. Good job! Can you find the other one?” Rhys said in a soft voice. He and Nyx had taken to playing memory lately and the one year old was quite good at it.

Nyx’s chubby hand reached out, sloppily pointing to a card on the other side of the deck. “Same.”

“That one?” Rhys reached out, pointing to the card. “Why don’t you turn it over so we can see?”

Nyx shook his head and looked at him with pleading big blue eyes so similar to his.

“You don’t want to play anymore?” Rhys asked, confusion lacing his voice. He was generally very good at understanding his toddler’s version of the common language, but there were often times when he wondered what he wanted. When Nyx had been a baby, Rhys hadn’t been above taking a look at his mind whenever he cried inconsolably, just so they could at least know how to help him. But as he had grown older, Rhys had avoided taking a look as to preserve the child’s privacy.

Nyx shook his head again. “Papa, Nyx.”

Understanding dawned on Rhys. “You want us to turn the figure together?”

Nyx nodded, smiling. “Togefer.”

Moments like these were his favorite—moments of not doing anything significant and everything that mattered at the same time. Spending time with his son, making him feel all the overwhelming love he had for his little boy, making sure he knew he was loved and treasured every second of every day.

“Papa?” Nyx looked up at him questioningly.

Rhys realized with a start that he hadn’t moved to turn the card, his son’s big blue eyes peering up at him questioningly. At over five hundred years old, Rhys could proudly say he had accomplished many things, but being this little boy’s father would always be the greatest one. His heart grew ten times its size in the presence of Nyx, and Rhys smiled as he bent down and kissed the top of his head. “Together. Always.”

[aether-bun]

Happy Birthday!

To celebrate my birthday, here's a drabble of assorted Hades characters and how they'd be on your birthday! You are in a relationship with Zagreus in this one :)

Characters: Nyx, Orpheus, Eurydice, Zagreus, Thanatos, Hypnos, Dusa, Megaera, Achilles, Patroclus, Cerberus, Asterius, Sisyphus, Bouldy

Warnings: None! Good wholesome times all around ♡

You wake up to Zagreus kissing your face!!!!

I believe in Zagreus caring deeply for physical touch and quality time your honour. Once you warm him up to it, it's his heaven in Hell. He adores it.

He's very warm, but it's never really been a problem, given the consistently nice temperature of the House

"Good morning, [Y/N]. Happy birthday~" He cooes gently, his voice is smoother than the finest ambrosia and you revel in it, snuggling into his chest.

"What would you like to do today, my dear?"

"Mmh....Is sleep an option...?" Zagreus chuckles at your drowsy response, his chest rumbles pleasantly and you find a contagious smile growing on your face.

"Birthdays only happen once a year, darling...Come on. Eurydice made you some cake."

"She did?"

"Yes! When I told her it was your birthday this week, she jumped to the opportunity."

"Then I suppose I must get up?"

Zagreus kisses your head lightly, and you melt from the tender care

"I suppose you must, yes."

You wake up and get into some nicer robes, and walk out with Zagreus to see Nyx regard you.

"Happy birthday, child. As a token of this occasion, I managed to convince Hades to give everyone a moment off, to greet you." Nyx's voice almost sends you to sleep again, but you're much more awake now, and you feel too sheepishly happy to rest.

"Lady Nyx, you really didn't need to...!" Your voice is as incredulous as you feel. "But...Thank you."

"Of course. I believe Hypnos wanted a word, so perhaps you should see to him first."

You and Zagreus walk over to Hypnos, who is currently not sleeping, which shocks you both, though he looks about ready to knock out for the next week at the minimum.

"[Y/N]!! Happy birthday! Dusa and I made you a little something, here here!" He exclaims, all tiredness wiped from his aura entirely as he hands you a small box.

Gingerly, you take off the lid, and inside you are happy to find a new laurel, woven carefully with your favourite colours and plants. You find yourself beaming at the beautiful heartfelt gift, before giving Hypnos a tight squeeze.

"Thank you so much, Hypnos. The detail is incredible!" You say as you part, and Hypnos giggles with a mischevious grin. "It was mostly Dusa, to be perfectly honest, but I helped weave it, so getting the first hug of appreciation for it feels fair."

You laugh, before Sir Achilles approaches with a calm smile of his own, before placing a hand on your arm.

"Unfortunately, I don't have any gifts for you myself, but I do wish you a happy birthday nonetheless. Do spend today well, yes?"

"Thank you, sir. I'll do my best." You smile, remarking mentally that your cheeks are starting to hurt, but also that you don't find yourself minding.

Next stop is to Meg and Dusa, who are waiting in the lounge with Thanatos. When they see you approach, Dusa is the first to float to you. The snakes that make up her hair affectionately grasp onto your arm as you hold Dusa affectionately. "Happy birthday!" She skitters, almost purring in a strange, Dusa-like way.

Meg is next, though she holds her distance as per usual. She's smiling, and her whip is stowed. "I've gotta hand it to you, [Y/N], I don't usually tend to care for birthdays, never mind my own...but you got me a morning in the lounge. So...thanks for that."

It was a strange way to go about saying happy birthday, but for you, it was more than enough. You nodded. "I can't believe Nyx pulled it off. Surely there are some wretched shades out there being overworked now, no?"

Megaera simply shrugs, but the creeping grin on her face tells you she hopes it's the case.

Thanatos clears his throat, and you realise he's held something out to you. It was a bottle of nectar. You gasp, taking the weighted spherical bottle in awe.

Zagreus squints at it, still by your side, before suddenly looking at Thanatos. "I gave you this bottle of nectar yesterday!" He says, indignant. Thanatos smiles - a rarity on its' own - and simply dismisses the Prince.

"Regardless of where you got it from...Thank you, Than, this...this means a lot." You say, your voice still awestruck by the honey gold liquid you're holding.

Zagreus of course brings you plenty, but even so, its' beauty never ceased to amaze.

You visit Sisyphus, who gives you Pebble (one of Bouldy's brothers, who has a delicately punched smiley face on one side), then you visit Orpheus and Eurydice, who gives you a kiss on the cheek and some cake, then you meet with Patroclus, who takes your hand very hesitantly and prays for you, for your good luck this year. He says he'll see you at the house, and on your way back, you find Asterius.

Zagreus prepares for a fight, but Asterius is unarmed, and he quickly realises.

"Asterius? What are you doing here, without your axe?" He asks. Asterius chuffs.

"Your father gave us a small break this morning, small one. You said something about celebrating someone's birthday last we clashed blades, and so, naturally, I assumed it would be your lover's. Was I correct?"

Zagreus stows his blade and you nod a little. "That's right, Asterius sir." You clarify. "It's good to know he gave even you and Theseus a break, too."

Asterius snorts, though it's not one of amusement or malice, simply a noise. He rifles through a pouch he has, before handing you a weighty box. Inside is a handaxe, crafted by the minotaur.

"You have no weaponry when you wander out here, I've come to notice. This is for when we meet in the stadium. For if you need more than simply the blessings of the Olympians." The bass voice of the bull rumbles, and you hold the axe firmly with a grin. Zagreus chuckles next to you.

"I appreciate this, Asterius. Thank you. Send our regards to King Theseus?"

Asterius laughs.

"I don't think he'd take it well, but I wish you a good day despite."

Asterius leaves, and you and Zagreus are amusedly quick to do the same.

Eventually, after a day of exploration, you cuddle up to Cerberus and thank Nyx on your way through, before laying down with your Zagreus.

"Today was fantastic, dearest." You say. Zagreus holds you close, playing with your hair. "I'm glad. But there's still one present you've yet to receive, my dear~"

It's 1AM right now. Use your imagination.

[slytherhys]

12 Days of Christmas - ACOTAR Edition

This is officially the last chapter of the 12 Days of Christmas series! I want to thank everyone who took a little of their time to read these stories. You guys mean the world to me and I'm so lucky to be able to write to such an amazing fandom. Every comment, every like, every reblog means everything to me and I take your appreciation with me every time I'm writing a new story.

You can also find this series on AO3

12th day of christmas - Christmas Dinner

A Blessing. All of it - Rhysand Drabble

The High Lord of the Night Court wasn’t known to be a very emotional male. He had a reputation all across Prythian, and it certainly wasn’t one that spoke of his sensitivities. He had a role to fill, and he had filled it gladly in order to protect his family. To protect Feyre.

That High Lord, however, was nowhere to be found tonight.

As his inner circle gathered around the dining table, chatting, and eating, Rhysand couldn’t help but feel unfiltered joy settle deep into his bones. Wherever he looked, love and happiness shone as bright as the candles flickering on the table, sending a warm haze all around the living room. The scent of holly and pine was as strong as scent of the meal Elain, Nuala and Cerridwen had so carefully prepared - and not nearly as mouthwatering.

By his side, Feyre sipped her wine as she chatted with Morrigan about her studio, his cousin offering her own advice every once in a while. Azriel, on the other side of the table, seemed too enthralled by whatever Elain was telling him to even notice the smile blooming on his face - a rare sight to see. For her part, Elain seemed just as enchanted. Across from Rhys, Nesta and Amren were engaged in a heated debate about books, Cassian chewing his food and nervously looking on as if prepared to intervene if necessary.

Rhys looked down at the babe drooling all over his shirt, a smile tugging up at his lips. Nyx had crashed only minutes after they had all sat down for dinner, the excitement of his first Solstice too draining for his tiny body. His little first was wrapped around Rhysand's sweater, his covered, little feet kicking him in the stomach every so often, as if Nyx was trying to take flight in his own dreams. Rhys was completely enraptured. Incredulous, too, seemed appropriate, for the truth was that he had lived many, many lives – had known loss, and heartbreak, and pain. But never had he known happiness like this; love like this. He’d never imagined he'd be deserving of it in the first place.

Now, he couldn’t imagine it being any different. Every tortuous road had led him to this table, surrounded by the people he had loved the most. As hard as it had been, they had all found each other – broken and lost – and against all odds they had made a family. A bickering, messy, but true family.

As he rubbed his son’s back, as he felt Feyre’s hand reach out for his under the table, he could feel no regrets - what had made him cold and lethal to the world had been what allowed them all to be here tonight. For that alone, he would not - could not - have changed a thing. No, he simply looked up at the stars and thanked them - tonight, there was no war, no duels, no political scheming. For at least tonight, it was their turn to just be.

And what a blessing that was.

[puppykento]

daddy doesn't share - stepdad!toji x fem!reader [drabble]

a/n: i literally think about... stepdad toji once a day

cw: 18+ content, stepcest, daddy kink, possessive toji, p in v, hair pulling, creampie, cheating(he's married to reader's mom), implied murder threat(not reader)

Toji wasn't meant to be home for another few hours - with your mom out with friends, you thought you'd easily be able to sneak your boyfriend into your room and have some fun with him. You'd clearly been having too much fun, 'cause you don't even hear the footsteps leading up to your room or your door opening.

"Ay, you hungr-" The words get caught as soon as he takes in the sight in front of him. His stepdaughter on her bed with a boys hand halfway up her skirt. His grip on the door handle tightens enough that the wood it's attached to creaks in protest. You pull away from your boyfriend, but not quick enough.

"The fuck is this?" He hisses, his gaze flicking from you to your boyfriend. Toji's gaze is harsh and unyielding, and you're not surprised to see the way the guy shrinks back in fear at the look your stepdad gives him. "You got about three seconds to leave, kid, unless ya wanna end up on a missin' poster."

You're even less surprised to see the way he scurries off immediately. Toji doesn't even wait until he hears the front door shut before he's on you, pinning you down to the bed. He grips your wrist in one of his strong hands, the other gripping your face. He pushes down on your cheeks, causing them to squish together and make your lips pucker up.

"This how ya gonna act now, hmm? Knew you were a brat, but didn't take you to be a fuckin' slut." He growls, the corner of his lip curling as he looks down at you. You do your best to shake your head, but his hard with his grip on your face.

"No, dad, I'm not. Didn't mean to upset you." You tell him, voice muffled by how's he's got your lips all smooshed. Toji isn't stupid - he knows by 'didn't meant to upset him', you mean you didn't mean to be caught.

"You didn't? 'Cause daddy is real fuckin' mad at ya, babe. So you're gonna have to make it up to him, y'hear?" He doesn't wait for any sort of response from you, but he uses his grip on your face to force you to nod, a huge grin spreading across his face at the sight.

"Atta girl," he murmurs, letting go of your face and giving you two light smacks to the cheek. "Now, you're gonna let me do what that boy was gonna do to ya, yeah? I don't wanna hear no bitchin' or whinin'. If you can spread your legs for him, you can spread 'em for daddy."

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

"Fuck, baby. Cunt's even better than your mama's." He groans as he bottoms out in your tight walls in one thrust, his hips smacking against the fat of your ass. He's got one hand gripping onto your hair, his other hand gripping one of your hips to pull you back to meet his thrusts.

His cock is a bully, the girth of it splitting you open as he bumps into your cervix everytime he fucks into you. Every shift of his hips feels like it's punching the air out of you, his fist forcing your face against the pillow.

"Takin' me so well, princess. Knew you were a slut. Your mama cries like a fuckin' bitch if I try 'n fuck her right." He grunts out, pounding you against the mattress. Your pussy clenching around him, trying to suck him in everytime he pulls back.

"She don't even want me to leave... your cunt's just beggin' me to stuff 'er full." His words make you whine, your cunt clamping down on him as you feel the coil in your stomach snap, your pussy gushing slick all over him. His nails dig into your skin at the sight, a loud groan spilling past his lips. His thrusts grow sloppy as he chases his own release. His hips rut his cock into your sloppy hole until he shoots his load deep inside of you, his hips stuttering as he rides out his orgasm.

He lets out a shaky breath, his hand slowly loosening in your hair. He pulls away from you, his eyes flicking down to watch his cum leaking from you before he gathers it back up onto his fingers and pushes it back inside.

"Keep daddy right there, baby. Gonna fill you up a few more times before mama gets home." He coos, using his other hand to give your ass a little smack. He pulls his hands away, watching your fucked out face with satisfaction.

"Oh, and darlin'? Next boy you bring home is gonna end up buried in the yard. Daddy doesn't like sharin'."

[theladyofdeath]

Hi, maybe I have a prompt for you.

Rhys helps Nyx to get to bed and when Feyre checks on both of them and asks if he is already asleep Nyx lifts his head and says "Yes, sound asleep".

(Story freely invented 🙃)

A/N: To tell you that I love this prompt is an understatement. Please enjoy the fluff!

"Don't wanna go to bed." Nyx sat on the couch with his little arms crossed and his brows drawn low. His frown was fully set, but it didn't stop Rhysand from walking to his son and tossing him over his shoulder, effortlessly.

Feyre chuckled. "It's late, buddy. Me and daddy are going to bed, too."

Rhysand shot her a suggestive look, complete with a brow wiggle and a wink.

"Not tired," Nyx said with a sigh, lying over Rhysand's shoulder like a dead weight. "Hungry."

"You're not hungry," Feyre reassured him. Even though he was a growing toddler, he'd eaten seconds and thirds at dinner, and had an after-bath snack of strawberries, cheese, crackers, and sausage.

"I'm starving!" Nyx protested, but Rhysand was already walking him up the stairs.

"I'll come in a minute after you brush your teeth to tell you goodnight," Feyre promised, as she picked up Nyx's plate up off the coffee table and carried it into the kitchen to wash. Once it was sparkling clean, Feyre made her way upstairs and peeked into Nyx's room.

Rhysand was buttoning up the top of Nyx's pajamas. Nyx still had a frown on his face, but he resigned, accepting his fate. After a hug and a kiss and countless I love you's, Feyre was walking back out of the bedroom, cracking the door closed.

It was just after eight, which meant that she could at least get one more full load of laundry done before she was too tired to do anymore. After grabbing a sorted basket from the master bedroom, Feyre was walking back downstairs to the laundry room, where she moved what was in the washer to the dryer, what was in the dryer to a laundry basket, and what was dirty into the washing machine. She was the only one that did the laundry, after Rhys had turned an entire load of whites to pink with a sneaky red sock. He's claimed that he's learned since then, but one of Feyre's favorite t-shrits had been in that load and she had never forgotten.

After the newly cleaned clothes were folded, Feyre was walking back upstairs to put them away. When she passed by Nyx's room, she could hear Rhysand's voice, low and gentle, reading Goodnight Moon. She waited outside the door for just a minute, listening to his voice, letting it calm her.

From the second that Feyre found out she was pregnant, Rhysand had been an amazing father. He was made for fatherhood.

Feyre carried the laundry basket to the master bedroom and put everything away before stripping off her leggings and sweater, and putting on a nightgown. After cleaning her face and brushing her hair, she was making her way back down the hall.

As she stood outside of Nyx's room, it was silent. She gave it a minute, just to be sure, before pushing open the door. "Is he asleep?" she whispered into the dark.

But then Nyx's head popped up, and with a grin, he said, "Yes, sound asleep."

Unable to help herself, Feyre huffed a laugh and stepped inside. As she approached the little twin bed, she witnessed quite the display. Both boys were under the heap of blankets, but it was Rhysand whose head was against the pillow, his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open.

"Daddy was sleepy, mama," Nyx whispered. "Shhh. Don't wake him up."

"I see that," Feyre whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed, "but he was supposed to be putting you to sleep, goofball."

Nyx shrugged. "He finished the story and I started patting his back. Then he started snoring."

"Mhmm." Feyre chuckled and leaned over Nyx to brush Rhysand's hair back. "I guess daddy's sharing your bed tonight. Come on. Lay down."

Without a fight, Nyx started getting comfortable, only to stop to kiss Rhysand's forehead. "Night night, daddy."

She swore Rhys smiled in his sleep.

Once Nyx was comfortable, Feyre laid down beside him, barely able to fit on the little bed with all three of them. She patted Nyx's back and sang him a quiet lullaby until he, too, fell asleep.

Not wanting to go to bed alone, Feyre stayed, admiring her two boys, the spitting image of one another, until she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

[throneofsapphics]

More nyx x sunshine readerrrr

Maybe she gets attacked or something

I need drama

misplaced chivalry 

Nyx x f!Reader

Summary: visiting with your family goes horribly wrong

Warnings: death, graphic depictions of violence, blood, minor injury, references to torture, a hint of angst & fluff, not proofread well

A/N: I did see your other ask, thank you for your request! I hope this hits the drama mark. same reader as ambushes and invitations, but they can be read separately !

Solstice with Nyx and his family was more than you could’ve imagined. Garlands, decorations, wine, food, music, and great company. 

Unfortunately, with the holiday over it meant it was time to do your annual obligatory trek back home. You managed to delay yourself two days before the guilt started creeping in. Estranged would be the best way to describe your relationship with your parents. They didn’t approve of your move to Velaris, or of your chosen profession. 

Trying to imagine the negativity flowing from your body, you took a few deep breaths before approaching the house. Outwardly, it was pleasant - normal. Red brick, a neat garden, a path leading right to the front door, a few chickens could be heard clucking from the coop behind the house. Absentmindedly, you wondered if your father ever got around to expanding that. 

Inside the house, it always felt strained - even before your relationship with them began to fall apart. There was still love, still good memories, and you put most of your conscious effort into focusing on that. It would be a good visit, and maybe things would begin to mend. Worst case you wouldn’t see them again. Your throat caught, despite the tension that’s the last thing you want. 

Three knocks on the wooden door, shaking out your knuckles, and you took a step back, rolling your shoulders and planting your feet like you were headed right into a conflict. 

Your mother answered the door, a worryingly pleasant smile on her face as she tugged you into her arms, squeezing tight. “You’ve grown so much,” she commented. 

Fighting back a wince or sharp retort, you beamed at her. “It’s good to see you.” 

She hummed, grabbing the crook of your elbow to lead you further inside. The scents of your childhood hit you at once, the vague smell of apple pie, old leather furniture, and something else you couldn’t quite place. 

“... made your favorite,” you hadn’t realized she was speaking and quickly added your thanks. Your father came in, shooting you a smile as well, and that was basically a warming welcome from him. 

Later, you realized just why they were being so pleasant. 

“Ella’s daughter completely cut them off,” your mother commented, shooting a nervous look your way. Right - they were scared you’d do the same. 

“That’s a shame,” you moved some food around on your plate. Not really, you figured she wouldn’t do it without a good reason. The night was pleasant - no judgemental comments about your profession or choice on where to live, no prying questions about your personal life or if you’d get married soon. When your mother nearly begged for you to spend the night, you decided it couldn’t hurt. 

-

Nyx knew you didn’t have the best relationship with your parents, and you’d declined his offer to come with you - outright - but he wanted to be there for you in some capacity. 

Your home village wasn’t terribly far from Velaris, and still in easy Daemati range, so he cast his mind out, searching and focusing on you, like his father taught him. 

“How’s it going?”

Around a minute later, “Surprisingly good, I’m going to spend the night.” 

He fought the disappointment that he wouldn’t see you later, and reminded himself to be happy for you. 

“Should I say good luck?” 

He could’ve sworn a soft laugh came through. “Maybe.” 

You filled him in on a few more details, and eventually he promised to check in the next morning, ignoring your gentle teasing, calling him a mother hen. 

-

It happened at breakfast before breakfast. The faint tang of copper filled your senses and you launched out of bed, reaching blindly for the knife Nyx had given you, well aware your knowledge extended to sticking the pointy end at them. 

First, your mothers body laid by the door, limbs sprawled at awkward angles, chest unmoving. The door was still open, the remains of a greeting still on her lips, the knife lodged in her throat. Scanning the room, it felt like time stopped, your entire world screeching to a halt. Three bodies laid on the floor, all dead. You heard one faint familiar heartbeat and scrambled down the stairs, feet sliding in the pools of blood. 

Wood splintered into your knees as you slid the last few feet to your father, the knife lodged in his chest. 

His eyes were half-glassed, knife lodged in his chest. You knew he’d killed the other three men. How had you not woken? Had he cast some kind of shield, now faded as life left him?

You gripped his hand tight, squeezing as his eyes focused. 

“Run,” his voice was hoarse, filled with pain. 

“I’ll get a healer,” the words were just above a whisper, told in vain - you both knew it was too late. 

“I’m proud to be your father,” one tear dripped down his cheek. The first tear you’d seen from him. 

“Stop,” you choked. 

“We both loved you very much,” the faintest squeeze, maybe just a twitch of his fingers. “Run.” 

“I’m not leaving you,” you snarled. Your magic had already cast a basic shield around the room. It wouldn’t hold under heavy assault, but you’d be damned if you let him … die alone. 

Maybe it was part of your nature, to accept the inevitable, to try and bring joy where you could, but you focused on him - repeating the happiest memories of your childhood until his chest stopped moving. Just then did you sob, as you closed his eyes. 

It was stupid to stay here, but you were in shock - you couldn’t leave.

-

It was normal for a short delay between responses, and he waited. A chime of the clock - five whole minutes, and nothing. It shouldn’t have taken this long, and he knew you wouldn’t ignore him. 

“Are you alright?” He tried. 

“Help,” the word was so bleak, your voice desolate and burdened in a way he’d never heard from you, your mind completely open. Fear struck him as he saw through your eyes, fear that could either freeze him in place or bring enough anger to topple mountains. Blood - everywhere, five bodies - two that looked like your parents, three others - and your hands. You were knelt on the floor, one hand still in the pool of blood, the other holding your fathers hand. He could imagine your wide eyes, stuck open in horror. 

One of the bodies was still moving - chest still breathing, rising to his feet, the knife lodged in his thigh, pulled out and already healing - and you didn’t know.

“Run, y/n, run.” Nothing. He needed to get you out of there. Panic he hadn’t felt before hit him. “I’m coming, love.”

In that second, as he was still watching through your eyes, there was just enough time for the man to slice at your back, movements uncoordinated, a strike designed to incapacitate - not kill. You dodged in time for the blade to slice across your shoulder. 

The next second, a wave of dark, pure night slammed him against the opposite wall with a loud crack. Bound in ropes of magic, he left him alive for now. For answers, later. He slid his arms under your shoulder, and he winnowed directly to the river house - right outside his father’s study, where he knew at least a few of his inner circle were gathered. You were limp in his arms, chest heaving with silent sobs, hands clenching at him like a lifeline. 

“I’m here,” he murmured, one hand running over your hair. There was no indication you heard his words. 

One arm held you close to him as the other banged on the door, his mind showing a sequence of the last few minutes to everyone inside. He was beyond words, too fucking angry to try and explain. 

The door flew open. His father, eyes a dark stormy night, anger rolling from him in waves, his mother’s anger matching, but switching to worry as she spotted you. Azriel and Mor were there as well, and Nyx vaguely registered his father grabbing them and disappearing. 

His mother gently ushered them inside, Nyx lifting you into his arms - your body nearly frozen. As magic healed the small gash on your shoulder, as it made the blood disappear, he still held you close, still ran his fingers through your hair and said over and over again, “i’m here, i’m with you, you’re safe,” even as his mind wandered towards how soon he’d be able to get revenge on your behalf - revenge he knew you’d never seek out. Gods, you were more likely to try and show them mercy. Like hell that would happen on his watch. 

“He said he was proud of me. He said he loved me. He cried.” Nyx jolted as you whispered, the first words in the last two hours. You’d fallen asleep on him - but he hadn’t moved an inch, not as people came and went out of the office. Nobody suggested he try and move you, nobody dared to get too close to you, not with his temper and protective instincts barely under wraps. As far as he knew, your father had never said those words to you. Nyx didn’t know how to reply, so he placed a kiss on your forehead. It was stupid to be mad at a dead male, but he wished the male would’ve told you as often as you deserved.

Nyx only left you alone after you were secured in a room warded as heavily as possible, impenetrable except by him or his family. 

“We’ll need to talk to her, eventually,” his mother said carefully. His fists clenched at his sides, but he nodded. 

“Did you get anything from the male?” 

“Azriel’s working,” his father replied, eyes searching his face. 

“I want to see,” Nyx insisted. 

“You don’t need to see that,” his mother argued, but his father held his hand out, understanding flashing in his eyes. Nothing he hadn’t seen before, but she was still protective. 

Apparently, his mother knew when she was fighting a losing battle. “I’ll keep an eye on her,” she promised. Nyx sent a grateful nod her way, and took his fathers hand. 

By the looks of it, Nyx knew Azriel was conducting a special symphony of pain - one reserved for those who’d hurt people close to him. He watched, leaned back against the stone wall - arms crossed, as each word was pulled out of the male, resisting the urge to filter through his mind. 

He waited to comment until Azriel packed up for the night, until the cell door had closed, a barrier in place - one the male wouldn’t hear beyond. 

“What are you thinking?” the shadowsinger offered - not a demand or command, but letting him know he’d listen. 

“They weren’t trying to kill her,” he tucked his hands into his pockets, hiding anger-induced shakes. “They wanted to get to me.” 

“Yes,” Azriel confirmed. Hearing it from another was worse than his own mind. Would you hate him now, resent him? Being with him put you in danger, and he couldn’t live with himself if something happened to you. 

Azriel read his expression easily enough - he was the only one who could. “Pulling away from her won’t keep her safe, not that they already know.”

Nyx exhaled slowly, “it’s my fault.” 

“No,” the other male said sharply, insistently. “You’re not to blame.” 

The words were futile, he’d keep blaming himself. 

-

“I’m so sorry,” Nyx’s hand ran over your hair, your eyes blinking to adjust to the sun streaming through the windows. Why was he sorry? He was sitting next to you, you were laid in an unfamiliar bed, but you knew the hunch in his shoulders, the worry in his eyes. 

The events of the previous day hit you, slamming into your mind, filling you with an unfathomable grief. 

“There’s no reason to be,” your voice was hoarse and rough. “You saved my life.” An uncomfortable silence filled the room for a few minutes, and for once you didn’t have the energy to break it. 

“It’s my fault they came for you,” you could feel the guilt in the statement, and knew exactly what was coming next. He’d try to leave - to ‘keep you safe.’ Nyx was stubborn as a mule, but this was something you wouldn’t budge on. Sure enough, he said, “you’re safer without me.” 

Planting your palms on the mattress, you pushed yourself up to sit - the remnants of the sleeping tonic making the movements slower than usual. It was misplaced chivalry, some kind of attempt for him to be noble and assuage unnecessary guilt. Usually you were slow to anger, but this was enough to piss you off. 

“Do you not like me anymore?” You asked. He blinked, surprised. “Are you not attracted to me?” 

“Of course I am,” he stumbled over the words. 

“Is there a valid reason you don’t want to be with me?” 

“It’s not safe-”

“I don’t care,” you insisted. 

“I can’t put you in danger,” he insisted. 

You weighed the next words carefully, deciding what would get the best reaction. “Are you scared, Nyx?” A muscle in his jaw flexed. “If that’s the only reason you want to leave me, I won’t accept it.”The steadfast look in his eyes wavered, and you knew you had your in. “Tell me you don’t want me anymore.” 

He shook his head. 

“Say it,” you insisted. 

“Of course I still want you,” he muttered. Evidently, he’d realized he wouldn’t get his way. Good. 

Your body swayed as you reached for him, and he grasped both of your shoulders to steady you. There was the slightest twinge in your shoulder, thanks to the wound from yesterday, but besides that you were in good shape. 

He noticed your small wince, and tried to move away, but you reached for him, cupping both of his cheeks, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. Eyes fluttering shut, he let out a slow, slow breath. 

“Until you have a good reason, you’re stuck with me,” you murmured. 

“It’s not stuck,” Nyx groused, and rearranged the two of you, laying you down, head resting on his chest. 

You hummed in content. The grief would come later, but for now you could lean into this moment, lean into his quiet strength.

[nyxthejinx]

Hiii! I saw your open requests and decided to send one! Feel free to ignore it!

This has been going through my head for some time now but what about scaramouche having a nightmare about reader leaving or betraying him somehow, then he would wake up and don't see reader besides him so he thought everything was real and then he sees reader just coming into the bedroom like "I just went to the bathroom- wth happened" or something like that.

A reverse comfort with a fluffy final! You can do drabble or headcanon, choose what you feel more comfortable and please do GN reader!

I'm sorry if there's any grammar or misspelling mistake. Thank you!

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞.

So... Hi? I HAVE NO EXCUSES FOR HOW LONG IT TOOK OMFG I'M SORRY. It's been difficult these past months but now I'm finally getting back up so... Here you go 🥺

𝐓𝐖: Angst with comfort, scaracoochie having a bit of a panic attack and intrusive thoughts (wants to burn the house down💀), spoilers for his backstory, lemme know if I missed anything.

𝐅𝐭.: Wanderer - GN!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 538

𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨: rises the moon - Liana Flores

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 as Wanderer releases yet another distressed breath.

It echoes in the silent, dark, but most of all, empty restroom of your shared house, the terrible truth he's rejected so adamantly now solidifies, heavy like concrete in his head.

It dawns on him fast and hard. Fills his lungs with water, makes his breaths shorter, ragged. He's unbelieving that you, out of all the people he's met in his long lasting life, would be capable of stabbing him like this.

He's checked every room, every corner and crevice. You had to be somewhere. It had to be a nightmare, confined to his wicked mind. And nothing else.

You couldn't be gone.

Not after everything you've said and done for him, after becoming the reason he stayed instead of wandering aimlessly, waiting for the end of time.

But his eyes are wide open, the hurt real in his artificial body.

You're gone and Wanderer feels like he's just been robbed of his heart once again.

Wanderer feels like he's going insane.

Wanderer feels. Mad. At you. At himself.

He grits his teeth, a poor attempt to stop his sped up breathing. The darkness, the silence around him clogs his throat like black smoke, the candle in his hand -one you gifted him- stops feeling like a beacon of hope and safety.

It's another knife in his chest, flickering along with the trembling of his hand, as if to mock his lack of self control.

It's feeble and pathetic, just like him.

Wanderer looks down at the yellow flame.

Burn it. Erase it. Forget it.

Burn it all. It wasn't worth your trust.

They're gone, just like last time, what else is left for you here?

He stares ahead but doesn't really look at what's in front of him. His eyes unfocused, vision blurred by something wet.

His grip slackens.

Burn. It. All-

"Love, here you are! You won't believe it, some drunkards were having a fight right on the walkway, I had to threaten them with my- are you alright?"

Just like a slap in the face your voice wakes him up from the second nightmare of the night.

He flinches, securing his fingers at the base of the candle. Wanderer turns around only to see your face twisted in worry, these features of yours he knows by heart downturned in a way he never liked.

One that never lessens your beauty though.

"Love?" You reach for his cheek, slow and delicate, cradle his jaw like freshly molded glass. "What happened?"

He leans in your hold by instinct, his free hand closing on top of yours, his chest deflating. It's amazing how your presence alone shatters the shackles that weighed on him mere moments before. Amazing how you ground him to reality with just one touch, dissipating all his deepest fears and worries and filling his soul with indescribable warmth.

He feels guilty for doubting you, he wants to say. He's had another nightmare, he's still taunted by unfounded doubts and thoughts, he wants to tell you.

But his lips are sealed and he can only melt as your arms enclose him in a gentle hug.

"Breathe love, I'm here, okay?" Amazing how you read right through him. "Always, for you."

You say and do things to him.

You're the reason why he stays.

You are home.

DON'T copy/repost my work. REBLOG instead! ©nyxthejinx

[nexusnyx]

hiii, can u do a shuri x reader? where the reader is depressed or going through a hard time but refuses to tell shuri because of her being queen and protecting Wakanda, until shuri notices.

i'm always a fan of something fluffy and comforting, so i hope you enjoy this. thanks for the prompt <3 | shuri udaku x gn!reader ; WC: 1.3k

Out of all the things that could have tipped her off, it's the banana candy that does it.

Later, Shuri scolds herself for missing all the other tale signs, but ends up accepting that life as Queen comes with that territory—sight overwhelmed by problems that go way beyond the circle that surrounds her as well as her own.

But the thing is—you never refused banana candy. It reminded you of your grandmother, brought you comfort, and ended any slump you felt. Banana candy was by far one of your favorite things on the planet, sans her.

So when you say no to it, Shuri's vision tunnels and all she sees is you.

"Griot, cancel my meetings for today." There is the start of an argument from her AI that is dismissed with a wave of her hand. "What did you just say?" Shuri asks you.

"I said—wait. Why did you cancel your meetings?"

"Love."

How could you ask that?

Now that Shuri stopped putting on her accessories, she takes a good look at you and sees what she probably missed for the past weeks. Maybe longer.

She feels a little sick.

"What's going on?" Shuri kneels on the bed and starts walking your way.

"Nothing's going on," the way you put on a smile paints a much clearer picture of all the pieces she's missing. You place it there as if Shuri is unable to tell the difference between a real smile of yours and your diplomacy. When one of your hands reaches up to pat her cheek, Shuri wants to cry a little bit. "Why would you say that?"

"Because I know you."

It might be the direct way of her speech, but it cracks on the false happiness you're stamping.

You try to shake it away by looking away from her. "I just don't feel like it."

"You don't feel like having fried bananas for breakfast?" Shuri sits down on the bed and wraps both her arms around your waist, pulling you close to her chest. "Really? Because I've known you for five years, and in these five years, you've never said no to that offer."

"I must've said no sometimes," you wonder.

"Nope." She would remember. Shuri might be balancing enough things to feel like a juggler, but the things cataloged in her mind as Y/n Things are always up to date. Or so she thought. "I would remember."

The silence that follows digs a little hole in her chest.

Then, Shuri feels you snuggling against her body. "You shouldn't have canceled your whole day, Shuri," you whisper.

Eyes still cast forward. Voice small.

"Baby." Shuri waits for your eyes on her, but when they don't come, she uses her strength. "Hey, let me tell you a secret."

Picking you up by your arms to maneuver your legs on either side of her is effortless. As always, you go willingly.

"Are you paying close attention?" her voice drops to a whisper.

In a blink, your whole focus is hers. Shuri waits for your little nod. First, you adjust your hips, making yourself comfortable on her. There's something intoxicating about the touch of your skin early in the morning—Shuri still bites her tongue at the tiny details she notices and missed all of these days, so busy with things that are nothing in comparison to what sits on her lap right now.

With your arms laid comfortably on her shoulders, you nod.

Shuri nods back. "When I first took the herb, I told everyone I didn't see anyone in the Spirit Realm."

The words drape the whole room in a thick, velvety blanket.

Your body stills, and Shuri breathes in deeply before continuing.

"And you did?"

Shuri nods. The memories start flashing in her mind.

As if sensing her distress, your fingers start rubbing on the nape of her neck. In return, Shuri starts rubbing circles on your thighs.

"I saw Killmonger."

The silence makes your small, but sharp intake of breath sound louder than it is.

"At first, I didn't understand why."

It took her months to accept it. To be able to think about it.

"I fought it," Shuri notes that her eyes closed only when she feels your breath on her cheek. "Then... I had to think about it." I never thought I'd talk about this. "Analyze it. It took me some time, and... a lot of effort on Dr. Rini's part, but... I understood why."

When her eyes open, Shuri is blinded by you.

The thick aura of your hair all around her, the beauty she loves so deeply, the warmth that seeps from your heart.

"Do you know I'm telling you this?"

You shake your head.

"Because after that moment, I swore up and down I was alone."

"No."

The instinctive response brings a smile to her face. "I know." Shuri leans to press a kiss to your lips. "I know, love."

Although you denied the banana offer, there is one thing that Shuri always counted on that proves to remain true—it soothes her heart and the nerves that were open and raw when she realized the neglect she's been committing, but Shuri tries to keep her head afloat through it.

Her kisses are always for taking.

You never accept just one. Shuri leans in for reassurance, but when her lips touch yours, there's the dance she loves and lives for—the feeling of sea motion of when you pull back, then lean forward again to capture her just once more, to taste her for a second longer.

You might not be okay, but Shuri can still reach you.

Still feel you.

Eventually, you pull back a couple of inches, resting your forehead on her temple. "I'm sorry, darling."

Your arms tighten around her neck. "For what? You did nothing wrong."

"I didn't notice my most precious love isn't okay. That's something."

"Shuri—"

"It's okay," she reassures. "I know you understand. But I'm sorry still."

Your face hides in the crook of her neck, and she waits.

"I have a lot on my mind," you whisper after a minute.

"We can talk about it."

"You're really gonna spend the whole day here?"

Shuri would give up anything for that smile of yours. Seeing you pull back just enough to show her your happiness is reward enough for everything she'll hear from her Council in the morning.

She nods. "We can talk about anything. I'll cook for you—"

You laugh, "Please don't."

"—or maybe you'll cook,"

"Sounds a lot better."

"And we can go to your favorite places," this time, it's her who hides in your breasts, groaning a little. "I can go to my favorite places," she hints suggestively.

Above her, there's a giggle.

"I think I'm still dreaming," you whisper.

Shuri shakes her head right where she is, and her hands come alive when she's overwhelmed by the smell of your lotion, of you. "No dreams here," with one hand holding you by your lower back, Shuri gets up with you in her arms still. "C'mon. I'm gonna do the one thing I know in the kitchen and cook us breakfast."

"Okay," it's so goddamn soft, and Shuri nibbles on your collarbone.

She places a kiss before looking up. "You'll talk to me? Hm?"

You nod, smile blossoming like a morning flower. "Yeah."

"Good." She sighs in relief. "So let me try this again: d'you want fried bananas, a vitamin, and me for breakfast?"

Your smile is blinding.

"Yes, yes, and yes please."

Whatever troubles you, Shuri will get to the bottom of it today. If it's within her reach, it'll be fixed by the end of the night. If not, she will have a long-term plan to be by your side as you figure it out.

Meanwhile, she needs to learn how to always have an eye on you, always.

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