With Rhys running cold with his body temperature and reader running hot with thiers, what if instead of reader craving a way to cool but Rhys craving your body heat?
Just imagine, you be in your room minding your own business and you just hear the door open. You look up to see Rhys standing there as if too nervous to move further into your room.
You sit up and asks him what's up. He doesn't say anything for a moment. As if contemplating whether or not to ask his question. He looks to the side and clears his throat as he adjusts his glasses. "...may I lay next to you, (reader?)" You ask him he means cuddling.
He nods, for someone who seems so well put together he seemed so...flustered. you agree a the both if you get comfortable on the bed. Rhys holds you tightly as if trying to soak the comfort from the heat radiating from you.
You let out a small chuckle and kiss the top of his head before continuing your prior task.
Hello!! Could you do #27 on the kiss prompts with Rhys 🩷🩷
Have a great day!!
On a trip to the cabin with the inner circle, Rhys grows frustrated at the constant togetherness, crafting an excuse for a moment alone with you.
A/N: Rhysand x Reader. Based on prompt 27 "kisses that indicate they want to do more than just kissing" from this list. I got you anon! I hope you enjoy this little makeout sesh with Rhys! ♡
Warnings: Sexual themes, no smut, but to be safe I'll say it's 18+.
A weeklong getaway to the cabin for some much needed rest and relaxation had sounded like a great idea. The entirety of the inner circle in tow, the week had gotten off to a raucous start. Alcohol flowed freely, laughter reverberated through the wooden walls, each of you letting go of the stresses of your daily lives in favor of savoring the moment, making memories that would last forever. Three days in, the togetherness had begun to feel a touch suffocating. Rhysand, it would seem, agreed; feigning drowsiness, he stretched his arms out above his head, choking out a yawn before telling the others the two of you were turning in for the night. Laughing internally, you could’ve rolled your eyes at his show, but played along. Once in your bedroom, away from prying eyes, his hands were instantly reaching out, touching. Pulling you by the waist until you were flush against his frame, he leaned down to meet your lips; your arms coiled around his waist. Breaking the kiss, you earned a pout from the High Lord of Night, you flashed him a cheshire grin.
“I thought you were tired,” you teased, sliding out of his grip to walk over to the armoire. Gracefully, you slinked out of your dress, all while holding eye contact with the male who’s violet eyes were drinking in your every move. “Tired of not being alone with you,” he hummed, voice low, sultry; offering a smile in acknowledgement, you slipped on the silky night set that you’d packed without his knowledge. Sauntering over to the bed, you hopped up, sitting on your knees directly at the center; patting the plush fabric, you beckoned him over. Wasting no time, Rhys slipped out of his pants, tugged his shirt overhead until he wore nothing but a pair of boxer briefs; in two long, deliberate strides he was at the bed, climbing up to be close to you once more. A hand slid up your neck, brushing past your jaw, until it tangled in your hair; brushing his lips against yours, his tongue traced your lower lip, requesting entrance. Parting your lips you allowed him to deepen the kiss, fervently, your tongues danced together; Rhys began tugging at your shirt, desperate to feel your skin pressed against his own. Groaning into the kiss, indicating his displeasure at your failure to lift your arms so that he could remove the night shirt, Rhys’ eyes shot open, pulling away. Rhys’ teeth grazed your neck in a playful bite, kissing and sucking at the skin, earning a soft moan; his fingers hooked into the elastic hem of your silk shorts.
“Rhys, we can’t,” you breathed unconvincingly, gripping his hand to halt its motion, his tongue traced a line across your collarbone, “the others–” Cutting you off with a tsk, he brushed a strand of hair over your shoulder. “Should mind their own business, if they know what’s good for them,” he leveled, aimed solely for the nosy friends he knew would definitely be listening in from where they sat around the evenings board game. Chewing your lower lip as you watched him, his hands trailing up your thighs, ghosting down your arm leaving goosebumps in their wake; boldly, you decided that if he was unbothered, so too would you be. Crashing your lips into his own, teeth grazing his lower lips, eager to match his growing desire; you moved to straddle his hips, his back hit the headboard as you began to instinctively grind down, feeling the evidence of his arousal against your inner thigh. Kiss muffling his satisfied moan, he took control of the kiss once more, the hand that fisted your hair yanked your head back, allowing him to lick, suck, bite, his way down your neck. Shifting his weight to his knees, he artfully laid you back against the bed, climbing over your frame; with cat-like finesse, he kissed from the center of your chest, up to where your shoulder met your neck. Stopping to hover his lips over yours, his star flecked eyes shone as he beheld your eyes hungrily. “I’m all yours,” you whispered, “even if we have an audience.” A dark chuckle rang out into the room; and my, did he ever put on a show.
Late at night, you struggle to sleep. Rhys has the perfect solution.
A/N: Thank you for requesting!! Based on prompt 7 "late nights" from this prompt list. This was my first time writing for Rhys so please be gentle with me lol. I hope you enjoy! ♡
Warnings: None.
Silk sheets lazily strewn across your naked bodies, blankets long ago kicked off the bed; the summer heat still blazed despite the obscenely late hour. Legs tangled, your head resting on his bicep, you absentmindedly traced the lines of the tattoos that covered Rhys’ chest with your fingertip. Despite the hazy, sated feeling that had set in, sleep did not come. The High Lord, eyes closed, had not yet drifted to sleep himself; the shapes being drawn on his chest holding him to the present.
“Everything okay, darling?” he whispered, lazily brushing his fingers through your hair. “Hmm? Oh. Yeah, I’m fine,” you responded, his voice having drawn you from your deep train of thought; halting your fingers motion, you hooked your arm across his muscled torso. Rhys’ brows pinched, despite your words, your voice had been laced with a sigh. “What’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours?” he asked lightheartedly, massaging your scalp; you let out a content breath at his touch. “Honestly? I’d been thinking how unfair it is, how much of your life I haven’t been around for, how many stories I just don’t know,” you shrugged, yawning; your body's need for sleep was finally beginning to take over. The corner of his mouth turned up in a grin, though he fought off the urge to chuckle.
“That’s what’s keeping you up at night?” He asked, an amused glint in his eye as he pulled you closer to his body, despite the heat. A soft, murmured ‘mhm’ was his only response; he could sense from the slowed pace of your breathing that you were finally on the brink of succumbing to sleep. “Well, then I suppose I’ll just have to tell you a story every night until there’s no detail of my life that remains a mystery,” he suggested, his fingers ghosting up and down the arm laid across his chest. Smiling into his neck, you nodded your agreement. “For tonight, allow me to regale you with an account of the time that Cassian nearly got us all banned from Rita’s…for life,” he began with a sigh, causing you to giggle. As the story drew on, your eyelids began to droop, your grip on Rhys’ side loosening, and soon, from your soft snores he knew you’d finally fallen asleep. “Sweet dreams, mate,” he whispered into your hair, leaving a soft kiss to punctuate his sentiment.
Had to stitch up a hole I made in my jeans and the ACOTAR brain rot got the better of me, now I can’t stop thinking about Tailor!Rhys who opens a shop in Illyria in his mother’s name and spends his evenings by the fire working on his cross stitching. Brb gotta fic to start writing…
