✨rawr✨ @fred-the-dino - Tumblr Blog

Hi,

I LOVE your writing style SO MUCH❤️ !!!! I wanted to request a fic- (short or series up to you ), if you would be so KIND :)

Could you do a Rhysand x Reader where Rhysand and the reader are mates, but the reader doesn’t know while Rhysand does? The reader is totally oblivious- thinks he’s nice to everyone , and the Inner Circle know and tease Rhysand.

Rhysand is possessive( healthy).

Only Friends

Pairing: High Lord! Rhysand x f!reader

Summary: Rhysand is your friend, your High Lord. When you deliver his reports, and he invites you to dinner, the lines begin to blur between friendship and something more. Just friends… right?

Warnings: alcohol intoxication, mutual pining, unwanted attention from a stranger, protective Rhysand, slow burn tension

Word count: 2,717

Part 1 | Masterlist | Part 2

“Good morning,” I called as I pushed open the war room door.

The Inner Circle stood around the Prythian map, heads turning toward me in unison.

“Morning,” Morrigan said, leaning against the table, golden hair glowing in the morning light.

Amren was perched on the edge, arms folded. Her silver eyes gleamed with quiet amusement.

“How’s our favourite court advisor today?” she asked.

“She’s much better now that she’s finished this stack of files Rhys requested,” I replied, lifting the pile in my arms.

I glanced toward the High Lord.

Rhys stood at the far side of the map, dressed in a black tunic that seemed to swallow the light, his hands tucked into his pockets.

Azriel was beside him, expression unreadable, but his mouth curving slightly as if suppressing a smile.

Cassian had a grin that looked far too pleased.

When my gaze finally met Rhys’s, his violet eyes sparked like stars.

I quickly looked down at the files in my hands and walked to his desk, setting the stack in the centre.

“Thank you,” Rhys said.

He moved toward me, his shoulder brushing mine as he reached for the top folder. He flipped it open, scanning for a moment before setting it back down.

“How about we go out to dinner?” He closed the file. “To talk about the documents and your findings.”

I nodded. “I’d like that.”

His smile widened, as though I’d said something far more important than I had.

“Tonight, then,” he murmured. “I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Yes,” I said. “It’ll be much easier to explain in person.”

“So,” I said, turning to Morrigan and Amren, “what are you two wearing?”

Their smiles faltered just slightly. Both of them exchanged glances.

“A silver dress that’s been begging to be worn,” Amren answered smoothly.

“Red backless dress,” Morrigan said, her eyes flicking toward Rhys before returning to me.

I hummed in agreement as I glanced over my shoulder at Rhys. “Are we going to Rita’s after?”

“If you’d like,” Rhys said with a polite nod.

“Perfect.” I gathered another stack of files from his desk, my name written across the top in his elegant script. “See you all tonight.”

They smiled, Morrigan lifting a hand to wave as I left the war room.

By the time evening arrived, I was still in my office.

A sharp knock at the door startled me, and I glanced toward the clock.

Seven.

“Shit,” I muttered, pushing back from my desk.

When I pulled open the door, my breath caught.

Rhys stood there, dressed in a black tunic and coat edged with silver embroidery, dark trousers, and polished boots.

He looked every inch the High Lord, powerful and impossibly handsome.

I realised I was staring, heat rushing to my face as I smoothed my hair back with my fingers.

“I’m sorry. I lost track of time.”

“It’s all right,” he said, glancing behind me at my chaos. “We can go another time.”

“No,” I said quickly, glancing back to my desk. “I was excited. I just need to stop by home first—”

Rhys reached for me. His hand slid into mine, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.

“Get ready here,” he said. “My chambers are just down the hall.”

My heart pounded against my ribs. “I don’t… I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I’ll have the handmaids bring something,” he replied simply, as though it were the obvious answer.

I exhaled. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he said as he gently guided me out of my office.

I glanced down at our intertwined hands, warmth spreading through my chest.

We walked deeper into the mountain, through corridors I’d never seen, until we reached a set of tall double doors.

Rhys pushed them open, and I stepped into his chambers for the first time.

His chambers were bigger than my entire apartment.

A fire in the hearth cast a warm golden glow over the room. Bookshelves lined the opposite wall, filled with well-loved books and shimmering artifacts that radiated ancient magic. Against the far wall stood a massive bed draped in midnight blue fabric.

“I forget sometimes that you’re the High Lord,” I admitted.

Rhys chuckled softly, guiding me further into his chambers. “The bath is through there.”

“Rhys, it’s okay. I can be ready in five minutes.”

“The others will have finished a bottle of wine already,” he interrupted smoothly. “They won’t notice if we’re late.”

“But—”

“No arguments,” he said, his hand squeezing mine before pulling me towards an open archway.

I let the protest die on my tongue the moment I stepped inside.

In the center of the room sat a sunken marble pool. The air was thick with the scents of jasmine and cedar. Dozens of candles flickered against the stone, and the far wall opened to the mountains.

“Enjoy,” Rhys murmured, before he let go of my hand and closed the door gently behind him.

I should have argued.

Should have told him he was being too generous.

Instead, my fingers were already undoing my robes. The fabric fell to the stone floor, and I slid into the water.

It was like sinking into moonlight.

Warmth seeped into my bones, my muscles relaxed, and I let my head rest against the smooth edge of the pool. Steam curled around me as I watched the first stars begin to appear above the mountain peaks.

My thoughts drifted back to Rhys.

I often forgot who he was.

That he ruled a court.

That he was one of the most powerful High Lords to ever live.

He didn’t fit the image I had once imagined of what a High Lord must be.

He was patient and kind. He brought tea to my office and sweets when I worked late. He had given me this job, this life, this chance, and never once had he made me feel small or as though I owed him anything in return.

We were friends.

Good friends.

A soft knock pulled me from my thoughts.

“Come in,” I called, glancing at the door.

The hinges creaked, and Rhys stepped inside.

His violet eyes briefly looked at me, then darted away, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“I—ah,” he cleared his throat, gaze fixed firmly on the vanity. “I only wanted to leave this for you.”

He set a gown on the counter.

Dark sapphire silk spilled across the counter, the hems glinting with silver embroidery.

“I thought you might like it,” he said, voice low.

My stomach twisted as I glanced from the dress to him. “It’s beautiful. Thank you, Rhys.”

“Of course.”

He nodded before turning towards the door, every line of his body tense.

“Thank you for everything, Rhys,” I said before I could stop myself.

He paused and looked back.

His eyes softened, “Anything for you.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

I sat there, staring after him, heart racing.

Friends, I reminded myself.

Just friends.

I rose from the water, reaching for the towel left waiting beside the tub. The towel was warm and soft as I dried myself off, my eyes never leaving the gown.

I slipped into it. It clung to my curves like it had been made for me; it was cool against my skin. With one hand holding the bodice to my chest, I pushed open the bathing chamber’s door.

Rhys stood by the bed. He stilled the moment he saw me.

“Could you lace it?” I asked, holding the gown to my chest.

“Of course,” he murmured.

He stepped behind me, and I felt the heat of him before his fingers even touched me.

The first touch of his knuckles against my spine sent a shiver rippling through me. His fingers trembled slightly as he threaded the ribbon carefully.

I laughed quietly. “You can be rough.”

His hands stilled. “I’m sorry?”

“With the lacing,” I clarified, glancing back at him. “I’m used to it. You can pull it tighter.”

“Oh,” he looked away, “right.”

He went back to work, fingers grazing my skin with every pass. Goosebumps forming across my arms. My heart pounded so loudly I swore he could hear it.

Friends.

Just friends.

“All done,” he whispered, his thumbs lingering against my skin.

For a moment, I almost leaned into the touch.

Almost.

Instead, I stepped forward, away from him, forcing myself to smile.

As I glanced back, I thought, just for a second, I saw disappointment flicker across his face.

My damp hair still clung to my shoulders, dripping onto the rug.

Before I could reach for the towel again, Rhys whispered something under his breath. Warmth swept down my spine, and when I touched my hair, it was dry, soft waves spilling loose down my back.

“Thank you,” I murmured, sliding my feet into the heels waiting by the door.

I bent down to buckle them, but Rhys knelt before me.

The High Lord of the Night Court, fastened the strap around my ankle.

My breath caught at the sight of him kneeling before me. He rose slowly, his hand brushing my calf on the way up, a touch that left my skin tingling.

“Always so kind,” I said, smiling despite the heat in my chest.

Rhys returned the smile. “Only for you.”

He offered me his arm and I slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow, my pulse racing.

He is just a kind man, I told myself as the shadows gathered.

Then the world vanished into darkness.

As the darkness faded, I found myself standing just inside a private dining room of one of the many restaurants along the river.

The Inner Circle was already gathered, mid-laughter and glasses half-raised, but the sound died as soon as Rhys and I appeared, my arm still linked with his.

Mor’s grin stretched wider, her eyes darting to Amren.

Cassian’s brows flicked up, amusement tugging at his mouth.

Azriel’s gaze dropped briefly to our joined arms before shadows curled closer around him.

I smiled at the group. “Sorry, we’re late. I got distracted by work.”

The silence lingered a beat longer before Mor set her glass on the table. “Better late than never. Sit, sit.”

Rhys guided me to the two empty seats side by side, pulling out my chair for me. I whispered a quiet thank you as he sat beside me, our knees brushing beneath the table.

Rhys reached for the wine, filling my glass first, then his own.

“Thank you,” I whispered, and he rested his hand against my knee in acknowledgment.

Plates soon appeared, steaming platters of spiced lamb, roasted vegetables with a honeyed glaze, and bread still warm from the oven.

The conversation continued. Mor talking about a new dress shop in the city, Cassian discussing new training regimens with Rhys, and Amren complaining about the Day Court ball next month.

“I read your report on the eastern border.” Azriel’s voice cut through the noise.

I blinked, unsure if he was speaking to me, but his hazel eyes stayed fixed on mine. “About the trade routes?”

“Rhys and I were considering moving them north. What’s your opinion?”

I set down my fork, leaning forward as I began to explain the effects of supply lines and issues with terrain.

My shoulder bumped against Rhys’s, his arm resting across the back of my chair.

More wine.

More food.

More laughter.

At some point, I had leaned fully into his side, his body pressed against mine.

My wine glass never got empty; Rhys refilled it before I even noticed it was low.

By the time Cassian had Mor tearfully with laughter at one of his stories, I was pressed close enough to Rhys to feel the rumble of his chuckle through my shoulder.

“Rita’s,” Mor announced.

She swayed as she stood, grinning, her cheeks flushed.

“Please. I want to dance.”

Her hand wrapped around mine before I could answer, tugging me up from my chair. I stumbled, laughing, the room tilting from all the wine. “Mor—”

“Come on!” she said, dragging us into the busy street.

The streets were alive with music, lanterns strung over the river, light catching on the ripples below. The hum of voices, laughter, and music from taverns and restaurants echoed into the evening air.

When we arrived, Rita’s was packed. The bass thundered through the walls, vibrating the floor. Inside, bodies pressed together, in a frenzy of heat and sweat. Mor pulled us into the crowd within seconds, her golden hair glowing beneath the coloured lights.

I danced, pressed between Mor and Amren as my mind began to haze. Someone I didn’t recognise shoved a glass into my hand, and I drank without thinking.

It was sweet, sharp, and burned my throat; suddenly, my head felt light, and my limbs were loose.

One song bled into the next.

Another glass appeared, and I continued to drink.

The world began to haze, my body felt warmer and lighter.

Mor was soon gone, disappearing into the crowd, and Amren began to dance with a tall, handsome man.

I was alone.

A hand touched my hip.

I turned.

A stranger stood there, a handsome, blond-haired man, his dark eyes gleaming. He leaned in close, lips grazing my ear, his words drowned out by the loud music. Maybe I wouldn’t have understood them even if I’d tried.

I felt the way his hands gripped my waist, guiding me with the rhythm.

My hips fell in time with his.

My back pressed to his chest.

My eyes searching for Rhys.

The music swelled, every beat echoing through my chest.

The stranger’s hand slid lower, guiding me, my head tilted back, laughter bubbling out before I could stop it, though I wasn’t sure what was funny.

Maybe it was the drink or the way the room spun when I moved too fast.

The stranger’s lips grazed my temple as he leaned closer, whispering again.

I caught none of it.

My hair clung damp against my cheeks, my skin flushed and hot, as I let him guide me, hips pressed flush to his, the world around me dissolving into heat and rhythm.

Mor was nowhere. Amren, gone.

The crowd was a blur of colour and sound, faceless bodies pressing close, too close.

I tried to look past him, searching for violet eyes, for dark hair, for Rhys.

My head was heavy now, my movements unsteady.

I laughed as the room tilted slightly. The stranger’s hands tightened at my waist, steadying me when I stumbled against him.

“Let’s get out of here,” he murmured in my ear, the only words I’d been able to understand all night.

I shook my head, swaying slightly.

“I… I need to find my friends,” I slurred.

“They’ll be fine. Come back to my place, we can have some fun,” he pressed, moving closer, lips kissing my cheek, then my throat.

“Get off!” I shoved, heart hammering.

A firm hand landed on my shoulder. The stranger’s touch vanished, as if ripped away.

I blinked as violet eyes burned into mine.

Rhys.

He was silent, his jaw tense and his grip on my hand firm, so firm I nearly winced. My chest heaved, not from the music, not from the wine, but from the fury in his eyes.

The stranger opened his mouth to protest, but Rhys leaned close, whispering something in his ear. The man froze, then disappeared into the crowd without another glance.

The music roared.

Lights flashed.

Bodies pressed around us.

Rhys held me steady, his arm around my waist, as I stumbled into him every few steps.

“I—I was fine,” I whispered.

“No, you weren’t,” he said, voice sharp.

Before I could argue, before I could catch my breath, he winnowed us away.