Summary - billionaire Rhysand hires you to babysit Nyx as he is having difficulties balancing work and personal life.
Warnings - Angst and kind of fluff?, my version of x reader, Rhys is lowkey a dick/asshole, swearing/sarcasm, smut mention, slow burn, and start, single dad.
Divider cred: @pixopix
Somehow, he got me to agree to staying for dinner. My mind said no, but before I could speak that into existence, I nodded and agreed to stay. Maybe it's the way he looked so… hopeless? Like if I said no, that it would be the straw to break him. Like he needed a friend now more than anything. Who knew a two-letter word could hold so much weight?
Or maybe it was because there was something about him that I wanted to fix. As if I had the tools to fix this. I was not in the proper state to fix anything; I couldn't even fix myself. But a totally successful CEO? Sign me up! Yeah, I was delusional. I should work on my own problems rather than worry about his.
“I am glad you said yes by the way. It’s the least I could do after you came all this way on your day off. Do you travel far?” Rhys asked as he got out the ingredients to make dinner. Well, truthfully, it should be lunch, but I also wasn't going to correct him. He was being nice, and so I would play along.
A small smile formed on my lips as I sat at the counter barstool, watching him in this big massive kitchen. It amazed me that he was doing the cooking when he no doubt paid for chefs and workers. Why was he cooking when he paid for them to make food? I shook myself from my thoughts as I replied.
“It's about an hour by taxi every day, so it's not that bad. Also, it's not a problem; you are already paying me extra for today. You don't have to do more. Seriously.”
At those words, Rhysand looked up at me and our eyes locked. With the sun shining into the kitchen, reflecting in his eyes, they did indeed almost look Violet. I had never met someone who had eyes that hit that shade in the sunlight. During the time he had asked me the question, he had slipped an ‘I love cooking’ apron on over his abs, hiding the fact that he was still very much shirtless. He looked like a mess but…he did seem a little hotter?
“Ill have my driver come and pick you up for now on.” He spoke as he began to cut the veggies that he just washed, my eyes widening at the suggestion. A limo coming to my shitty, run-down apartment? No thanks.
“Uh..I appreciate the offer, but its really okay.” I spoke, anxiety coiling around me. He was my boss, why did I care what he thought? Why did I care if he sent a driver to my apartment? It would save me on so much time and money; this should have been a blessing but here I was seeing it as a curse.
Rhysand looked back up at me, furrowing his eyebrows as he didnt speak right away. The male was clearly assessing me and why I would have such a negative reaction to such a kind gesture. The air in the room stiffened as I held the eye contact, not able to simply look away.
“It wouldn't be an issue, I insist. I pay my employees very well, and they would be more than happy to help. Plus, you are the only babysitter in the past month that has been able to put my son to sleep in mere minutes.”
My cheeks felt hot at the compliments and just..the way he spoke. All the confidence he had and the way the words he spoke just reassured me. I now knew why he was a successful CEO. He had such a way with words that even now, I wanted to reject his offer, but here I was accepting it.
“Okay, if you insist.” God I was thinking with my other head right now, what was wrong with me? Usually I was able to stand my ground. I would cuss guys out at the bar for sport. But now? I just agree and nod my head like an idiot.
I was an idiot.
~~~~~~
Rhysand had spent the last hour cooking, completely focused like he has never done this sort of thing before. Yeah he had made jokes or done something stupid here and there, which had def earned a giggle from yours truly. But for the most part he seemed…scared?
Yeah, the big bad confident CEO was scared. Dont make me laugh.
Sitting down at the edge of a twelve-man dining table, I waited for him to plate up the food and bring it over. Well, I was shooed here by him and was told that I was his guest and that he would serve it to me.
So I was sitting here, waiting for the shoe to drop. Waiting for him to show me that dickheaded side of him. But secretly? I wished that it would never show back up.
“Okay, if its bad, please lie to me.” Rhysand called as he walked into the room, he had lost the apron and was showing off his abs again.
The first thing that hit was the smell, it was the kind that made your mouth water. I had never smelt something so good in my life. And the sight of him? I felt like I was being tempted by a god, like this was a test and I needed to run away from it. If he was a god…I would definitely worship every inch of him.
Oh, I am so going to hell for this. Snap the fuck out of it bitch. He is your boss and he already knocked one girl up; don't let yourself be the second baby momma. I mentally spoke to myself, because right now if I didnt I would probably do something I regret.
The male set the plate down in front of me as steam rose up and disappeared into the room. It looked just as good as it smelled. But…I had never seen anything like this. Yeah I was over here surviving off of tv dinners and breakfast sandwhiches, not a real meal. Nothing…like this.
Rhysand must have seen my confusion written on my features, because the male spoke up before I could ask. “Its creamy Tuscan Chicken in a sun-dried tomato sauce, with sautéed veggies on the side.” The description alone made my mouth water.
We had been sitting at this table, the sounds of silverware scratching against glass filling the silence. The food was so good and I needed more. I could get used to eating something so... juicy and flavorful. It was so addicting and I wanted more. Okay…are we still talking about the food?
“Nyx, mom? Why is she not in the picture?” I blurted out, attempting to break the silence. Why did I ask that of all things? One will never know.
Rhysand's body flinched at the question, his eyes looking back at mine. I could see all the pain behind those pretty bluish violet eyes. A pang rippling into my chest at just the sight. I instantly regretted asking, but before I could take it back. Before I could apologize for my words, he looked away and exahuled a sigh.
Fuck I had ruined everything. Ruined this dinner. Ruined his mood. And I am probably jobless. Fuck why did I have to-
“She died during childbirth.” He admitted, sadness and pain lacing his words. His response broke me from my racing mind. No wonder why he was a drunk. It was as if the substance was holding him together.
“I….Im so sorry. I didnt know.”
“Its okay, just…its hard to talk about.” The male leaned back in his seat, using a napkin to wipe the sides of his mouth as he did so. Even in this..emotional state, he was being so proper.
“It must be hard. Taking care of your son after…something so tragic.” I didnt know why I was still talking about this. He just said it was hard for him to talk about and here I was adding salt into the wound? But when the male just nodded in response? I knew I should change the subject.
“What's the name of your company?”
“Huh? You really don't know?” He looked baffled. Like I just told him I was a mass murderer and he was my next victim. Maybe I should know more about someone I was working for…but truthfully I didnt care. I just wanted to be paid enough for rent.
So why did I care now? Maybe it was because of how…sad he looked. I wanted to do anything in my power to take his mind off of his loss. To make him feel better.
“No-, should I know?”
“I just thought…nevermind.” He paused, shaking away his dazed expression. “Aztechnology.”
Now it was my turn to look dazed at him. His company was one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Everybody was buying his products and wanted to work for him. His company had amazed so many people and they even donated to charities and gave back to the communities in such a big way.
“Yep, the same look I always get when I talk about my company.” He sounded almost…disappointed? But the truth was, this was a big accomplishment for someone around my age. He should be proud.
“I just…last I heard, an older guy ran it.” I was trying not to sound so…flabbergasted. Blinking a few times as I just watched the male.
“That was my father. The company has been in my family for generations.”
That... made sense. My lips parted as I was about to respond, but I was cut off by my phone ringing. Who could be calling me? Taking my phone out of my pocket, Amren cute little face popped up on my screen. Fuck…she probably wanted to come back over again. And…it was getting kind of late. I did not want to overstay my welcome.
“Uh…its getting kind of late.” I admitted, standing up to grab both of our plates when Rhysand grabbed my hand before I could reach it.
“Its okay, I can handle the cleanup. Thank you..for tonight. I'll see you on Monday?” I nodded, agreeing as I stood up and walked to the door. Leaving behind such a great night to go back to my apartment and wallow. Amren was def going to enjoy hearing about this. But one thought kept racing into my mind, even on the limo drive home.
Was my boss secretly a sweetheart?
A/n: I know its been forever. I want to write I just get so self concious about my writing ahahahaha. But, I hope you guys like it!! 🖤🖤
Description: You agreed to one evening with Rhysand after finding out he was your mate and he doesn't hesitate to whip up a stellar first date. This can be read as a stand-alone, but I definitely recommend reading Part One first!
Warnings: None!
A/N: Thanks for the patience on the part two for this one! I've gotten a horrible case of writer's block so I might be slowing down on posting a little bit; it was a fight to get this one done. I still hope to have a post per week, and I am still working on the requests you guys send in. Thanks for all the love as well!!
Mor had offered to be the one to take you to the city for your date with Rhysand. While the offer was appreciated, considering how stand-offish you’d been toward the High Lord in the early months of your… acquaintanceship, you’d turned her down. Rhysand, after all, had promised to pick you up like a proper gentleman. Good, if you were going to give him an evening of your time, the least he could do is everything in his power to make it good.
He’d left a note the night before your date with a list of things he’d planned out. Considerate. He also had very neat handwriting, you’d noted. A picnic beneath the night sky of Velaris’s outskirts. It sounded like a dream, honestly. Even after a few hundred years of life, the legendary stars that littered the midnight blue above Velaris never ceased to make your heart stop.
You had to admit, the male had chosen quite well for the date. Rhysand hadn’t crossed your path since you spoke that morning. The morning after the mating bond had snapped into place. You’d agreed to one date and, so far, Rhysand had been making sure his opportunity wasn’t wasted.
The night arrived like any other, save for the pit of anxiety storming in your chest. Fated mate or not, what if you and Rhysand had nothing to talk about? What if it was awkward or frustrating and you had to return to his house and live out your days in shame? More frightening, though, was the thought of the date going well. Being the High Lord’s mate seemed so daunting, especially when you could count your conversations with the male on one hand.
You sat in the sitting room, one leg thrown over the other as you waited for Rhysand to arrive. You knew it would be any moment now, and you couldn’t stop yourself from fidgeting with your fingers nervously. The deep creak of the front door had you straightening your spine, eyes snapping toward the sound. Rhysand looked nice. He was always handsome, anyone with eyes could see that, but he’d clearly put extra effort into his appearance tonight.
His black curls fell perfectly over his forehead and pointed ears, slightly tousled as if to look effortless. He wore a crisp, white button-down shirt, stretched comfortably over his arms. The delicate lines of his tattoos peaked out from the collar of his shirt and the sleeves, which were rolled up to just below the elbow. Black pants and shoes, too, nothing absurd, but nothing lazy either.
If he noticed the way you gave him a proper once over, he didn’t let on. Not with his expression, but you could’ve sworn you noticed a faint blush dusting the tips of his ears. Rhysand turned to you properly, a smile stretching across his lips.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
“Thank you.”
You stood from your arm chair, making your way to him. You swallowed a nervous breath, your heart hammering in your chest. Was this a bad idea? Should you back out? You shook the thoughts as Rhysand held out a hand to you. Only half a second of hesitation lingered before you took his hand, surprised by how warm it felt in yours.
“Shall we?” He asked, his smile never faltering.
“Don’t make me regret this, Rhysand.” You replied, no malice behind your words.
“I’ll do my best,” he chuckled.
Winnowing with Rhysand felt different than winnowing with anyone else. As the only one capable of winnowing anywhere near the house, Rhysand’s magic was nearly tangible. The shadows that consumed you felt so secure, like solid ground beneath your feet and cool wind in your hair. The only other time you’d done it was the day you moved in, and you’d been too worn out to think too long on the feeling of his magic. Tonight was different.
You appeared in a lush meadow, warm green grass and snow-white flowers surrounded you. The meadow was unfamiliar to you, but it was easily one of the most beautiful places you’d ever been. Weeping willow trees sprouted sporadically across the grounds, the occasional deer strolling along to pick at the hanging branches. Fireflies blinked through the night air, moving like tiny lanterns beneath the stars.
“Here,” Rhysand’s voice summoned your attention.
He gestured with an open palm to a blanket laid out in the grass before you. Atop it sat treats and snacks and a few bottles of nice wine, all lit only by the stars. You felt warm, the effort he had put in to organize everything was blatantly clear.
“All this for me?” You teased, stepping up to the blanket with a smile.
“I thought I’d keep it simple for the first date,” he winked.
“This is hardly simple, Rhysand.”
“Rhys,” he corrected, taking a seat on the blanket, “Please, just call me Rhys.”
“I’ll call you something alright…” You mumbled as you sat down beside him.
You maintained a healthy amount of distance between you, ignoring the way your instincts nagged you to sit closer to him, to his warmth. Rhysand, Rhys, glanced at you, his soft smirk still present, his eyes trailing over your face.
“You’re nervous,” he observed.
“What gave me away?”
“Usually, you’d’ve called me at least four names by this point in our conversation.”
“Well, maybe I’m trying to be nice tonight.”
“You shouldn’t,” he said, making you quirk a brow, “I want to see you as you are.”
The casual tone of his voice was so contradictory to the weight of the words he laid on you. To be fae meant to perform in one way or another. Everyone played their part, their role, whether they liked it or not. You supposed that was exactly what Rhys did everyday, playing the part of the stern High Lord that annoyed you so much. You realized, then, that you wanted to see him as he was, too.
“I’ll call you a snob, then,” you declared, picking up a bottle of his wine, “because this wine costs more than my old apartment.”
“Only the best for you, sweetheart,” he replied.
The nickname made you freeze, a blush threatening to reveal how much you liked it, but you shoved it down. A few days ago, the sound of his voice had you bristling with rage. If he had called you “sweetheart” yesterday, you likely would’ve snapped at him.
“Just pour the wine.”
You less handed him the bottle so much as shoved it into his hands, causing him to let out a low chuckle. He poured two glasses worth of wine, offering one to you.
“You don’t need to be nervous,” he said, “I won’t bite. Not unless you ask me to.”
You barked out a laugh, rolling your eyes.
“Please, it’s been all of ten minutes. You’re not that good.”
“Really? Here I thought I had you swooning already.”
“Cockiness loses you points, you know.”
“I’m kicking myself over it already, sweetheart.”
It surprised you, how easy the conversation began to flow. Much like the rich, red wine in your glass, you found yourself pouring quips and jokes and laughs and stories from your lips before you realized. Rhys was witty, you knew as much before this evening, but you’d never found his clever tongue enjoyable back then.
He asked you about your life before the war, before your home had been destroyed, and you told him. He let you ramble on and on about the books that lined your shelves that you lost, his eyes never once leaving your face. You told him stories of your friends, even ones they might not want exposed to the High Lord.
In return, he told you about his father and his power, how he refused to be the same type of High Lord. Despite what Cassian and Azriel might like, Rhys let you in on some of their most embarrassing childhood adventures. He nearly whispered as he even told you about his wonderful mother, his bright young sister.
The way he spoke to you was so different from the other interactions you’d had with him before. His voice had always been clipped around you, official and regal. Under the starlight, on the soft blanket in the grass, his voice was soft and smooth. The look in his violet eyes was not one of appraisal but one of appreciation. He would laugh sometimes, so deeply from his gut, and his cheeks would crease with the movement. You’d never realized how truly angelic the High Lord was.
“Do I have something on my face?” His voice snapped you from your reverie.
“Besides those high cheekbones and that arrogant smirk?”
“Oh, admiring my cheekbones, are we?”
“You wish.” Your words lacked their former bite, the venom you once used against him.
“Maybe I do. Maybe it’d make me feel better about admiring you so often.”
The admission made your heart squeeze in your chest. You didn’t try to fight your smile, your eyes flicking from his gaze to the curve of his lips.
“How often would that be?” You asked, returning your eyes to his.
“Can’t tell you,” he hummed, one of his hands coming to rest on your cheek, “You’d think I’m crazy.”
“Trust me, I’m already there.”
“You wound me, sweetheart,” he laughed low, his thumb grazing your face tenderly.
“I’m almost sorry.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he murmured, his eyes trailing over your face longingly.
“Something on your mind, oh mighty High Lord?”
“I’d give anything to kiss you right now.”
You blinked, not surprised by the request itself, but the bluntness of it almost caught you off guard. The blush you fought so hard to suppress finally made its debut on your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Your smile widened just slightly as you gazed at him, leaning into his touch.
“It’s your lucky day, then,” you mumbled, “you don’t have to give anything.”
In a second, you closed the narrow gap between the two of you, pressing your lips to his. You told yourself it was to test the waters; he was staring at you so pretty, there couldn’t be any harm in it. The truth, though, burned through both of your veins as your lips met. He hesitated for only a second, surprised by your boldness, but he was melting into the kiss
You had yearned for this without even knowing it. His touch, his mouth on yours, his breath on your face, all things your body has craved even before you knew he was your mate. His lips were so soft on yours, sliding against yours smoothly. He kissed you like he needed it just as badly as you did, hunger and relief mixed together.
You pulled back after a moment, breathing heavily through your nose. His eyes fluttered open after a moment, having shut when you kissed him, and he looked at you through a half-lidded gaze. He stayed close to you, close enough that if he leaned forward, you’d be kissing again.
“Would you believe me if I said I’ve wanted to do that since I met you?” He asked, his lips quirking up in a smile.
“What?” You gaped, pulling back from him more, “No! You were so… official. I thought you just saw me as some pitiful little peasant.”
“Shit, Cassian told me I went too far with the house thing, he said you’d feel like a charity case, but I couldn’t stop myself. That’s not what you are to me, though. You never were. Of course I wanted to help you after the war, Velaris was my responsibility and you were part of Velaris. But, honestly, I just…” he sighed, trailing off.
“You what?” You pressed, furrowing your brows.
“I thought you were hot. And I wanted the chance to get closer to you and it was all I could think of on the spot.”
“So… you panic-invited me to live in your house?”
“I… when you say it like that, it sounds really stupid.” He huffed, looking down at his lap.
“I think it might sound stupid no matter how you say it,” you laughed, bringing your hand to his chin, lifting his jaw to meet his eyes again, “but I kind of think it’s hilarious.”
“You mean you’re not turned off by my horrible flirting skills?”
“Only a little,” you teased.
Rhys laughed, leaning in to rest your foreheads together.
“Not enough to cost me a second date, I hope.”
“Mm, the council’s still out,” you pressed another quick kiss to his lips, laughing alongside him.
“Are they open to bribes?”
“Most definitely.”
“Good, because I brought chocolate cake.”
Oh, yes, you thought, he could have a second date.
Description: You can’t stand the High Lord of the Night Court. You’ve never had a wholly pleasant encounter with him, not even while living in his house. While out on a date in Velaris with a male you met at Rita’s, you run into said High Lord. When the mating bond snaps into place, you’re forced to wonder just how deep your hate for Rhysand runs.
Warnings: None really!
A/N: Thank you so so much @lunaseleneceleste for this request! I’m such a fiend for enemies to lovers so I had to jump right on it as soon as I saw the request in my inbox. Read Part Two if you want more of these two! Requests are still open so feel free to send any in! Thanks for all the love!
Saviour complex didn’t even begin to describe Rhysand. The mighty High Lord of the Night Court had a nasty habit of picking up strays, desperate to nurse them back to health. That’s what he’d done with you, after all. When your shop had been desecrated during the war, your little apartment above it gone too, he’d offered you “refuge” in his house. His house, if it could even be called that, was a ginormous manor sitting high above the city you loved so much.
You’d been hesitant to accept his offer but you didn’t really have other options. Without the shop you were without income, and a place like Velaris wasn’t easy to inhabit with no money. You hadn’t realized, when you’d agreed, that the House of Wind was a giant prison. Sure, it was well-stocked, but the ten thousand steps down the mountain were obviously unfaceable.
Rhys had promised that he’d send someone daily to fly you down, winnow you into the city so you could do as you wished, but that wasn’t an easy promise to keep. Most days, you’d be greeted by a member of his inner circle and transported wherever you liked, but some days you were left entirely alone, trapped in the house with only your thoughts.
It was days like these that let your distaste for your High Lord really brew. Hours upon hours of solitude left you angry with Rhysand for his empty promises. Why would he pull you out of the city just to lock you up in this godsdamned house? Why would he promise you freedom only to neglect you?
Some part of you knew that his business was natural with his position. You understood that you couldn’t realistically expect his personal arsenal of Illyrians to be at your beck and call. Rationality couldn’t stop your personal vendetta against the High Lord, though. Your anger continued to grow, evident in your tone every time he stopped by to check in on you.
The mere sight of him was enough to set you on edge. Then he’d speak to you like you were some sad thing, some frail creature that needed his help. So you’d lace your tone with venom, sneer at him, keep him far away. It irritated him, you could see it on his face whenever you snapped at him to leave you alone. By the end of each conversation you’d had with him, he’d snapped right back at you.
In the two months you’d lived at the house, you couldn’t bring yourself to like Rhysand any more than you had at the very beginning. Despite your trying relationship with Rhysand, you did like his friends. Cassian, while cocky, was kind and funny. Azriel intimidated you at first, but now? You know he’s not so scary if you’re pleasant to him.
You did your best to keep some consistency in your life. You still saw your friends in the city, still went out to Rita’s for a drink. Sometimes you’d even go out on the town with your new friends, learning that Cassian and Mor were a terrible karaoke duo and Azriel had a shockingly lovely singing voice. It was on one of these nights that you’d met Lorel.
Lorel was a sweet, brown-haired fae male about one hundred years your senior. He had a handsome face and a smile that screamed normalcy. He seemed like just what you needed, so you’d smiled and giggled and nodded along with his flirting. You got supportive nods and winks from Mor and Cassian, Azriel’s face unreadable, as usual. When Lorel had asked to take you to dinner that weekend, you’d agreed.
The day of your date with Lorel arrived without consequence. Mor came by with Cassian, ready to take you down to the city. You’d summoned Mor up to your room to assess your outfit and she’d scanned you up and down carefully.
“Yeah, you look amazing. You should just stay here with me instead,” she teased lightly, offering you a smirk that held nothing but sweetness in it.
“Tempting,” you replied.
You took one last look at yourself in the mirror and smiled. Not damn bad. Mor threw an arm around your shoulders, leading you down the stairs. Cassian grinned at you from the bottom, nodding at your appearance.
“You clean up nice,” he said.
“Thanks, Cass. Wish I could say the same for you,” you teased.
He laughed, throwing his head back with the motion. He set his hands on his hips, nodding for the door.
“So, am I flying us out or what?”
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Lorel had picked a nice little restaurant in the core of Velaris for your dinner date. The place was cute, the food was yummy, and the conversation was easy. Everything was just as you’d expected it to be, devastatingly normal. You reminded yourself that this was what you’d wanted, something easy and relaxed and ordinary. As dinner came to a close, though, you found yourself feeling woefully unfulfilled.
You weren’t an asshole, though. You kept up your content smiles and small laughs, making sure that Lorel didn’t feel the disappointment slowly seeping through you. It seemed like Lorel was having a great time, actually, and he suggested that you walk to a small dessert stand nearby for a treat. You obliged, despite the allure of your bed and a good book.
Walking along the moon-lit streets, Lorel’s hand reached down to gently take hold of yours. You bit back a sigh as you laced your fingers with his, not too eager to make him think you were enjoying this too much. He smiled over at you, a warm and pleasant grin that should’ve made your heart flutter. It did nothing for you, though. When he looked away from you, his expression faltered, his steps coming to a halt.
“Is that the High Lord,” he asked, furrowing his brows, “and is he glaring at me?”
You followed Lorel’s line of sight and, sure enough, your gaze fell upon Rhysand. He was standing a little ways off from you and your date, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. His eyes were icy as they bore into Lorel, as if they were tearing him apart bit by bit. Lorel looked back over at you, confusion written all over his face. As Lorel looked to you, so did Rhysand.
His violet eyes flashed, an emotion you couldn’t quite read flickering in them. Your eyes locked and you held Rhysand’s gaze in challenge. He met you head on, refusing to tear his eyes away as his nostrils flared in irritation. You wouldn’t back down either; you refused to lose. As you continued to wage a war against one another with your eyes, something snapped in your gut.
The sensation was sharp, like a taut cord being cut with the snap of scissors. Then it was warm, like a soapy, lavender-scented bath. Then it was hot, like the fires that flickered and popped in the hearths of the house. Your body locked, your senses flared, and you couldn’t, physically couldn’t, bring yourself to break Rhysand’s stare.
That’s mine, your traitor of a mind growled to you, he belongs to me. I want him, my mate.
The realization seemed to hit you and Rhysand at the same time, if the way he stumbled backward a step was any indication. Your heart thudded against your ribcage, threatening to leap out and run right over to Rhysand. You scowled, willing your instincts to shut the fuck up. Mate or not, Rhysand pissed you off. You weren’t just going to go running to him because the Mother supposedly thinks you’d make cute babies.
You finally ripped your eyes off of his, forcing yourself to look at Lorel. The poor male was so lost, staring at you like an open-mouthed fish out of water. You felt guilt fill your chest, rising up your throat. How did you even explain this? You stammered out a stupid sound that was supposed to be “I’m sorry,” but you couldn’t seem to find your voice.
Lorel, now more concerned than anything else, reached a hand up to rest on your cheek. You felt a hot surge of rage flash through your newfound bond with the High Lord and you heard an animalistic growl come from where Rhysand was now stalking toward you two. Lorel, of course, noticed, and turned to face the High Lord. He tucked you part ways behind him, which only seemed to make Rhysand angrier. Lorel’s face blanched, but, to his credit, he kept his expression as steely as he could.
“Rhysand, stop,” your voice had both males’ attention snapping to you.
“But I-”
“Don’t even think about it.”
You stepped out from behind Lorel, your jaw clenched. Your hands were balled up in fists and you squared your shoulders as you faced Rhysand head on.
“I don’t care what you think is going to happen here, but I’m going to tell you. You are going to turn the fuck around and leave us alone. You are not going to wait for me at the house, you are not going to follow us from a distance. You are going to go home and sulk all you want and then… then we can talk tomorrow. After breakfast.”
Rhysand blinked at you, stunned as if you’d slapped him across the face. Any arguments he had prepared, any words of possessiveness he’d intended to spew at Lorel, died behind his teeth. You watched indecision flicker over his features, his eyes flittering from you to Lorel and back to you. He swallowed thickly, a thrum of disappointment pulsing in the bond. He nodded, opening his mouth before closing it again. He nodded once more as he turned around, his wings flaring outward as he shot off into the sky.
“So, you two know each other,” Lorel said, a brow raised.
“I… yes. Mutual friends or something.”
“I’m sorry if it’s rude to ask but do you have a history or something? He seemed like he wanted to bite my head clean off.”
“No, nothing like that,” you shook your head, choosing your words carefully, “we just have a bit of a complicated relationship. And I think it just got a whole lot more complicated.”
Lorel gave a small hum of understanding, shifting awkwardly on his feet.
“I, um, your scent changed. When you were staring at him.”
Your eyes widened, your heartbeat quickening.
“Is he your mate?”
That was the question, wasn’t it. You supposed the answer was yes, but you didn’t know anything about him. How could he be your mate if he was a stranger. A stranger and an asshole.
“I think so, yes.”
“All due respect, but I don’t think I’m suicidal enough to get caught up with the High Lord’s mate.”
You laughed softly at Lorel’s sheepish admittance, smiling at him.
“I don’t blame you one bit. For what it’s worth, I think you’re a really nice guy.”
“Thank you. I had a nice time tonight. Can I at least walk you home?”
“Oh, uh, that’s alright. It’s kind of a long walk. Lots of stairs.”
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
You were a mess of anxiety the next morning. After splitting off with Lorel, you’d found Cassian and Mor at the meeting point. Rita’s was a lousy meeting point in retrospect, because they were pretty damn drunk when you found them. They were aware enough to listen intently to your recount of your date as Cassian flew you into the house. They’d been shocked, to say the least, and truly had not one ounce of helpful advice to offer you.
Just talk to him, Cassian had said. Easier said than done, you’d wanted to reply. He was right, though, all you could do now was talk to Rhysand. Maybe figure out what in the hells you were supposed to do with this whole soul-bound, fated match from the Mother herself thing.
True to your word, Rhysand arrived at the house not fifteen minutes after you’d finished shoving your food around your breakfast plate. He was dressed casually, his hair haphazardly brushed back, no crown in sight. He didn’t look like a High Lord like this, he just looked like a male. He found you in the sitting room, your feet curled under you as you sat on the large, velvet couch.
“Good morning,” Rhysand said softly, testing the waters.
The bond pulsed with anxiety and you let out a small breath of relief. At least it was mutual.
“Morning,” you answered.
“I,” he started, taking a careful step toward you, “I’m sorry for last night. I should’ve controlled myself better. I just wasn’t expecting…”
You nodded because you understood. Cassian had given you a very basic explanation of what the mating bond felt like to a male, and you were honestly impressed Rhysand had been as well behaved as he was.
“I don’t think either of us were expecting it.”
“True. It was very sudden.”
Neither of you would even say what it was. This dance around the word bond like it was a curse. It isn’t that you were against it, you weren’t even against him being your mate, but as things stood now you had little interest. You’d never managed a conversation that ended well, you didn’t see why that would change now.
“I don’t want you to feel like this bond takes away your choices,” Rhysand broke the silence that had settled awkwardly in the room.
There it was. The awful truth of the mating bond. It did take away your choice, didn’t it? You’d be tied to Rhysand one way or another, whether you wanted to or not.
“It kind of does.”
“No,” he shook his head, daring another step forward, “if you decide that you want nothing to do with me for the rest of our lives, I will stay away.”
The promise carried an intense weight. To find a mate was relatively uncommon, to deny the bond once you found it? That would do terrible things to someone, especially a male. You looked at him, your eyes scanning over his face carefully. You found no dishonesty there, only sincere, raw vulnerability.
“Would that not be painful?”
“Not any more painful than forcing yourself into a bond you don’t want would be,” he replied.
His answer almost made you angry. It was only natural that Rhysand would sacrifice himself to help the poor, destitute little Fae who lived in his house, spent his money, ate his food. You couldn’t muster the anger though. For some reason, looking at him in the morning light, you couldn’t be mad at him for offering you this out.
“How am I supposed to just… decide that?”
He let out a long breath through his nose, considering your question carefully. He took a few more steps toward you, now close enough to kneel down on the floor before you so he could be closer to your eye level. To offer you the high ground. To give you room to breathe.
“You don’t have to decide now, but I will tell you what I’ve decided, if that’s alright.”
You nodded, and that was all the permission he needed to go on speaking.
“I’ve decided that if you are my mate, I’d like to know you more. I want you to know me, too. Not the High Lord that the city sees, that you’ve seen so far. The me that isn’t so…”
“Obnoxious?” You supplied.
“Well, yes,” he chuckled, earning him a small smile from you, “I want to earn a place in your life. Starting with an evening, if you’ll have me.”
You considered his words, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. For the first time, you found yourself in a conversation with Rhysand you were actually enjoying. He was being honest, you could tell. He wasn’t above begging, you were sure, if you asked him to. Here he was, already on his knees for you. You sighed softly, ignoring the way your heart was beating quickly and your stomach was fluttering from the look in his eyes alone.
“One evening,” you said, making his eyes light up instantly, “I will try one evening. If it goes well, perhaps you will earn a second.
“Deal,” he agreed immediately, his head bobbing with a nod.
Cute, you thought, then internally kicked yourself for the thought. He looked like a damn puppy, though, wagging its tail and waiting for a treat. You supposed one evening wouldn’t be the end of the world. Not if he kept looking at you like you hold the deed to the royal treasury.
What you were in for with this High Lord, you weren’t sure. You were sure, however, that it would be one interesting story.
Summary - billionaire Rhysand hires you to babysit Nyx as he is having difficulties balancing work and personal life.
Warnings - Angst and kind of fluff?, my version of x reader, Rhys is lowkey a dick/asshole, swearing/sarcasm, smut mention, slow burn, and start, single dad.
I had been going back and forth to work every day this week and had gotten the hang of my new drunken boss. Every day, he seems to look more and more weathered, and every day still has the alcohol smell reeking on his breath when he comes back home.
Honestly, this week I have grown more worried about him; his actions definitely did not help the situation. The same actions that basically implied he was a ticking time bomb, ready to self-destruct at any moment. But why was I worried about him? He was just my boss, the reason why I make enough money to afford my shitty apartment. His life meant nothing to me, and yet here I am thinking about him on a Saturday morning. I chalked it up to me being worried about his baby and him growing up without a father.
I tried to get my mind off of it by turning on my favorite TV show, wrapping a blanket around my legs as I enjoyed my morning coffee. But I couldn’t help the fact that my mind wandered back to him. I mean why was he really doing this? He shouldn’t have big issues or problems. He’s fucking wealthy and hot, what kind of things could make his life that fucking bad? What problems does he have that money cannot solve? That he would rather drink his life away than just fix the issues.
I bet he doesn’t even really do anything at his big Ceo job. That’s what you do when you are the boss and own the company, right? Not have to lift a finger or worry about a thing, probably pay a grunt to do all the work while you take the credit. He is just that much of a prick to do something like that.
Realization hit me as these thoughts rushed into my mind, my eyebrows furrowing as I let out the biggest sigh in existence. Why is this even bothering me? Why is my Saturday morning consisting of worrying about my boss? I had bigger issues on my hands, like replacing my fucking microwave that decided to blow up, or getting a better apartment to live in. Anything but why my boss was going through a midlife crisis.
A knock rang out from my door, and a smile crept onto my face, knowing exactly who was behind it. My best friend messaged me yesterday to hang out, but seeing how I was busy with a four-month-old, we had to reschedule. I told her we had a lot to catch up on, and she made me promise that I would spill the tea about everything that is going on, including why I had to reschedule. She just couldn’t possibly take no for an answer.
Before I could move from my comfy spot on my couch she slammed the door in, letting herself into my home, walking in like she owned the place. She could probably buy the rights to this whole complex if she wanted; she was rich and successful enough.
“Well, come on in and make yourself at home, Am.” Sarcasm laced my words as I turned my head to look back at her, my orbs facing a very short woman with ink black hair and the prettiest blue eyes I have ever seen. The shade of blue was the lightest shade I have ever seen, as if her eyes were silver and glowing. If I weren’t into dick, then I would totally secure her. Fate did not want that duo, or maybe the universe just couldn’t handle us.
“Oh, hurry up and give me the tea.” She spoke coldly, a wild grin forming on her tan features, she moved to slam my door shut, the sound echoing around my bare apartment. So much jewelry lined her; around her neck, wrist, finger, hell, even her fucking ankle had some bling. She came from wealth, a silver spoon if you will, but you would never be able to tell. I never knew why she decided to attach herself to me, someone who has always struggled for spare change, but I have been thankful for her company and everything that she has ever done for me. Which is a long list.
“Wellllllll..I am babysitting for some rich ceo who is a complete and utter dick. Sorry but your common people piss me off.” I admitted, and she nodded in understanding. She was nice, but the other commonwealth wasn’t, and I have dealt with my fair share of them to know a bad egg when I saw one.
“Is he at least hot?” She asked bluntly, her orbs flicking to her nails as she examined them, picking at the red polish on her newly manicured hands. I snorted at the comment, which made her look up at me, her features letting me know that this was a totally serious question that needed an answer. Great there was no way around this conversation.
“I mean, he isn’t ugly, but on the inside he is, definitely,” I admitted, my fingers wrapping around my warm coffee mug. This caused Amren to roll her eyes, but the comment was true and something I stood behind. Just because you are rich does not mean you get to act like you are a god and above everyone. Privilege is something most people can never achieve and just because he was able to achieve it does not mean he should get a free pass from being an absolute dick.
Amren and I have always had our differences when it came to men, she didnt care how much of an asshole they were as long as they could provide or at least supported her, and I have always wanted to find my true love. My knight in shining armor. I didnt care about status or money, I cared for what they had inside, where their heart was. Let’s just say Amern is in a very successful relationship, and me? Lonely as fuck, ready to even give up on the idea of love.
“I know you hate…the rich. But, babe, have you not at least thought about him being in your bed?” She asked, eyeing my reaction. She knew about my smut collection, a very big chunk of that collection being billionaire ceo romances, but that was fiction, and this was life. I rolled my eyes, but before I could even respond, my phone began to ring. I didnt have many friends or even family, so the only one who could be calling me would be my best friend, but she is sitting in front of me, waiting for me to shoot her question down or make some lame excuse to change the subject.
“I won’t take long.” My words came out in a mumble, throwing my blanket to the side, jumping up from my seat as I walked in a fast pace to my phone. Whoever it was, I had them to thank for this escape. I would do pretty much anything to get away from this stupid conversation. So when I reached my phone and flipped it over to see that my boss was calling, I couldn’t complain.
“Hello?” I spoke into the phone, pressing it to my ear as I listened. What could be wrong that he is calling me on a Saturday? Did he forget this was my days off? That I could have a life outside of him for two fucking days.
“I need you to come babysit Nyx.” The male said through the phone line, his voice coming out as smooth as Velvet. How could I even be mad when he sounds like that?
“Too bad that this is my day off, you know the one day you said that you didnt need me?”
“I’ll pay you double what I normally do if you can make it. Please Y/N? I know it’s short notice, but I wouldn’t call you if I didnt need it.” He pleaded through the phone line, a small sigh escaped my lips,, the guilt washing over me. I was being a bitch, and I knew I was, but he didnt think he could just call me and expect me to drop everything I had going on just because he needed me, right? I was allowed to have a life outside of working for him.
“Fine, i’ll be over in an hour,” I responded, looking over to see Am smirking at me, flipping her off, I jerked my hand away from my phone and disconnected the phone before he could protest that I needed to come sooner.
“Aww looks like you have a date.” Am teased, watching me with a knowing look. If looks could kill, she would be rolling in an early grave right now. My look caused her to bust out into laughter, and that was my cue, storming off so I could get ready to see my evil boss and his four-month-old, who absolutely adored me.
~~~
Arriving at the mansion, I was greeted by his butler, who showed me inside. Every time I come here, the butler always does this, like I didnt know where to go. After the fourth time, I informed him I knew exactly where to go and didnt need to be shown around, but he insisted, something about it’s his job or whatever. The whole interaction was awkward, and I just learned not to fight against it.
The butler led me into the living room, where a shirtless Rhysand was. He wore nothing but grey sweatpants, which outlined and clung to him very well. His ink-black hair was a mess, like the baby had almost made him tear out his own hair. He turned to face me once I entered, his soft, almost violet eyes looked tired, and the dark circles under his eyes didnt help in that regard.
“So what’s the emergency?” I asked, my arms crossing my chest as I looked at him, trying so hard not to focus on a certain…area of his body. God he needed to be dressed more decent when expecting me.
“Nyx is fighting me, he won’t sleep or eat, and I have been up for 3 hours trying to get him to calm down but he just…wont” Rhysand spoke as if this fact were the most stressful thing he had ever dealt with. “All he has done since he has woken up this morning is fuss.”
A sigh escaped my lips as I moved, extending my hands to the male as I smiled at Nyx, the baby instantly smiling back as I looked over at Rhysand. “Let me see the little baby.” I said, mostly to Nyx than Rhys but nobody put up a fight.
It took all of 20 minutes to feed and get the baby to fall asleep, closing the door to his nursery as Rhys stood before me. The male looking down at me, a thankful expression on his features. For once…he seemed so appreciative of me.
“Thank you, you are a lifesaver.” The male spoke softly, a large smile forming on his lips. He looked so..innocent. Something about seeing him like this made my heart skip. Was he not the asshole I thought he was?
“I..its not a problem. I should get going.” I state as I pick up my coat, about to head to the door, when I feel a soft hand wrap around my waist, tugging me back. I slowly twirled my body to face him, our faces so close, almost touching. This did not look good…
“You should stay and have dinner with me.” His tone changed from soft to husky, his smile moving into a smirk. This felt so wrong, so dangerous, but something in me screamed that this was so right.
And so…without my better judgment, I nodded in agreement. Its normal to have dinner with your boss, right?
A/N: I know its been a minute but I am trying to get back into the swing of things. I went through a really big writing slump but I am back! I hope you guys enjoy the update for this fic.....I know I am. 🖤🖤
Summary - billionaire Rhysand hires you to babysit Nyx as he is having difficulties balancing work and personal life.
Warnings - Angst and kind of fluff?, my version of x reader, Rhys is lowkey a dick/asshole, swearing/sarcasm, smut mention, slow burn, and start, single dad.
Divider cred: @enchanthings
This job was the first job that gave me a decent offer for my time. The first one that actually took me seriously, and maybe that’s where all the excitement came from. After going from a shit job to an even more shitter job, maybe this was my break in life. Maybe this could hold me over for a few months, my land lord would absoultely be thrilled about that.
Unlocking the door to my run-down apartment, the hinges creaked as I pushed it open, and I was greeted by the limited furniture within my home. All of the items in the house were second-hand, things that I thrifted when I had stable jobs. The items are a little rundown, but even trash needs love right? My ex boyfriend thought the same thing, I guess we can agree to disagree.
It was true, I was overly excited about the job offer and may have gone shopping for new outfits and a baby bag for when I had to run errands with the little rascal. After all, being passionate about your job was a good thing, right? With that thought in mind, I moved inside and set the packages on the kitchen counter.
Tomorrow was the big day and I found myself thinking what kind of scenario i am going to be thrown into. Anxiety boiled up as I hoped that my boss was nice this time. Due to jumping from opportunity to opportunity, the shitty jobs were always the easy ones to get and maintain, and thus made me pick them more often but then you realize exactly why nobody stayed to begin with.
Maybe this one was different; it had to be different.
~~~~
The morning sun peeked into the room from the blanket barely covering the window, a large groan escaping my lips as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Checking the time made me want to throw my pillow across the room. It was 5am, only a full hour until I actually had to be up. Great, just great, I thought to myself. It had been a struggle to get the little sleep I had, nerves turning my stomach upside down, making me toss and turn half the night at the anticipation of the upcoming change. Now, the fear of being late for the first day had me worried to even bother going back to sleep or even closing my eyes.
Dragging myself out of bed with the little energy I had left, I went into the kitchen to get my morning energy drink and microwaveable breakfast sandwich. A large suppressed yawn escaped as my brain went on autopilot, cracking the top and downed a good bit and moved to pop my sandwich in the microwave. The appliance sounded as dingy as it looked, and I knew it had been on its last leg for a while now. But I couldn’t afford the luxury of a new appliance, and knew my landlord would say the same.
Knowing that the sandwich was going to take a few moments before being ready, I moved to the couch and grabbed the spicy book I had been reading, flipping to the part I had left off on. I settled into the couch, flipping through the pages as I scanned the words. I always enjoyed reading in the mornings while watching the sunrise; it was one of the rare times I had a moment to myself.
However, as if to tear down my mood even more, the shitty microwave made an awful noise and the smell of fire filled my nostrils right in the middle of the bad boy fucking the girl senselessly.
“Fuck!” I exclaimed, pure annoyance replacing my good mood as I ran into the kitchen, turning off and unplugging the microwave before a full-blown fire could commence.
“Today is going to be so fucking amazing.” My sarcastic ass mumbled, pulling out the still-cold breakfast sandwich. “I’d rather starve,” I added before throwing the damn sandwich away.
It took about thirty minutes to calm down enough to shower, and another thirty to finish said shower. After completing my morning routine and necessities, I slipped on a pair of black skirt overalls with a forest green sweater and black combat boots, then looked in the mirror and began to take small breaths. Today was going to be a good day.
Taking a taxi was annoying enough with the traffic but I didn’t feel like walking forty minutes when the drive was more like twenty. Why waste my time? Arriving, the house was huge and looked more like a mansion than anything. I mean, seriously, who the fuck did he think he was? Bill Gates? Who can maintain a house like this in this economy?
The taxi pulled under the carport behind the black limo that sat outside, paying the driver. I stepped outside and went to the front door, knocking on the ink black door and waited for my boss to answer, and once he did, I couldn’t believe my eyes.
He was easily the hottest man I have ever met. He was dressed in an all black suit, tattoos swirling around his upper arm that were exposed by the rolling of his sleeves, his black button shirt unbuttoned and showing off his abs. He looked tired, or so I thought by the bags under his eyes and his charcoal hair disheveled. But he was still beautiful, and you swore to yourself that you were thinking like this about your boss. Good thing he can’t read minds.
“You must be the babysitter. My name’s Rhysand, your boss.” He spoke as he offered a small smile, the smell of alcohol hitting my nostrils, and I fought not to make a face. Was he already drinking? It was only seven in the morning.
“Yes, I um…I’m sorry if I’m too early. I..I can wait.” I spoke nervously, a blush forming on my cheeks as this was embarrassing. I mean, who answers the door so…exposed?
“No no, you are right on time. Come in.” He responded as he left the door open and began to walk inside, and I followed quickly. “What’s your name?”
“O..Oh right..my name is Y/N.” Was it hot in here or is it just me?
“Well, y/n, Nyx is still asleep and probably won’t wake for another hour. He is about 4 months old. He eats every five hours. I have placed all the stuff for the feedings in the kitchen on the counter. When he is being fussy, I usually put on classical music or kid cartoons, and that normal soothes him. If anything happens, you have my number. Call me in case of an emergency.” I nodded along to his statements; it was easy enough, and you had experience with kids in your family. “I am running late, so I am going to finish getting late and head out.” He added and before I could respond, he disappeared.
My first day was uneventful. Nyx was absolutely the easiest baby I had ever been around, and it helped that I think the little guy adored me. He did sleep more than anything, but he was active in rolling from back to stomach and playing with teether toys.
In between me playing with Nyx and putting him down for his naps I helped to clean the house. It wasn’t dirty, just had toys kind of scattered throughout and groceries still left on the counter. There was also a hamper in the laundry room filled to the brim with dirty clothes. I was debating on if is appropriate to even do your boss’s laundry.
“Oh fuck it, who would be pissed that you did their laundry?” And with that, you threw the laundry in the washer and started the load. A sigh escaped as I finished the task at hand.
It had been about fifteen minutes since I gave Nyx his last bottle and put him back down. He was a little fussy, but he instantly soothed when I held him. Babies were always more complicated with their parents than with a stranger; they always knew how to push buttons.
Knowing Nyx won’t be up for a while and that there was nothing else to do in the house, you plopped your ass on the couch and turned on the tv. Just when you got settled on the couch, the door swung open, your eyes shooting to the door before you relaxed slightly, it was only him.
“You look like you have been busy…I didn’t know I also hired you to be a maid too.” Okay kind of a dick, but he was hot, so maybe he could be slightly a douche.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped. I was just trying to help.”
“Yeah, well, something that would help would be to focus on caring for my son instead of my house. I have maids for that. Don’t expect to be paid more for this. I know your type.” At his words of a type my eyes began to tear up. His words cut somewhere deep within. So much for a nice boss.
“I..I didnt expect anythi-” I began but he cut me off.
“Good, your job here is done so you can leave. Be here the same time tomorrow.”
And just like that, my first day was completed.
A/N: This is going to be a slow build-up fic. Im sooo excited for this one hehehhe 🖤🖤 l hope you guys enjoy it too.
rhys x reader whos a thief and he catches her during a party- the mating bond slaps them in the face (she hates him 🌚)
slaps them in the face you say...
--
"You're early. I hadn't planned on bringing you here for hours."
The voice that seems to snake beneath the silence of the room, infiltrate without shattering it like ducking just beneath the motion sensor of an alarm, is velvet-smooth, low and calm. You'd have expected more outrage from the High Lord of the Night Court, especially since you've got your hand wrist-deep in the jewelry box that rests atop his dresser, but he's throwing up a fairly convincing facade.
Your spine straightens, and you turn on your heel, not too fast and not too slow, hands behind your back to stuff a jeweled choker into the lined seam of your skirt. He's watching you like a hawk, his eyes practically glowing, maybe with bloodlust, maybe with whatever dark magic he must possess.
"Pardon me, my Lord." You ignore his greasy insinuation, "I'd intended to find a bathroom, but everything is so opulent here that I couldn't tell the difference."
His smirk deepens, and his teeth glint in the room's low mood lighting, "Well, one way you can tell the difference is to figure out whether you're standing in front of a toilet or a bed."
"It looks like I've got the wrong one, then," You breathe a sheepish-sounding laugh, glancing at the High Lord's massive four-poster, elegant and as dark as his reputation, "Your residence is very- impressive," You nearly choke on the words, watching as he begins walking towards you, his polished shoes treading over the floor until he's only one step away from you. You're trapped against the dresser, the knob digging painfully into your back, the High Lord looming over you in front. You wonder if the jewels stuffed into your skirt are cut sharp enough to wield as weapons- could you slice his throat and run away before anyone else caught you?
"So is my jewelry collection," Rhysand purrs, and the cunning in his voice makes sense now- he wasn't going to look the other way or let you distract him; he's not stupid.
"Ehm, yes. I'll admit," You duck your head to stare at his collar, the space between it where his tanned skin narrows to a point near his navel, "-I got distracted in here."
"I know," He hums, reaching around to your back with one hand while the other closes the lid of the jewelry box. He slips his fingers between the ornately-carved knob of the dresser and the ridge in your spine that it had been biting, soothing the pain by circling the spot with the pads of his fingers. "And I also know," He moves his hand now to the waistband of your skirt, both palms now spreading over your skin, "That you've snuck about ten-thousand gold marks worth of rubies into the lining of your skirt."
Your throat dries but you swallow regardless, stomach melting and dripping down into your feet, "I won't return- please, let me go."
"You were foolish to think you could get here undetected," Rhysand croons undeterred, ducking his head down to meet your gaze, "Even if my shadowsinger hadn't alerted me to your deviation in course, I'd have felt you trip the wards of my private bedroom."
It was a foolish endeavor. Really, it was. You should have known better, but at the first chance to rob the infamous High Lord of the Night Court, you'd lost all of your sense.
You begin straining against Rhysand's hold, but unsurprisingly, it doesn't go well. You pant, chest rising and falling rapidly, and the more you struggle, the more he grins. He doesn't drag you off into his dungeons, he merely holds you tighter, uses more and more of his manpower until he must be squeezing your flesh to the bone. You can't escape, and though you know it's a piss-poor idea, your panic sets in, and one of your palms flies straight towards his face.
His wings jolt forwards, perhaps to block the slap or perhaps to slice your skin with the clawed tips. But evidently you catch him off-guard enough that he doesn't make it in time, and your palm connects with his face hard enough to jerk it sideways.
When his head snaps back towards yours, your heart stops in your chest.
His hands are no longer the tightest thing that's got a hold of you. Suddenly, the strength of his fingers falls dreadfully short of the golden thread binding your souls together, a tangible thing you feel like you can reach out and pluck like the string of a violin.
Rhysand recovers before you, pulling the ruby-encrusted choker out of your skirt's hem and dropping your waist. You're no longer physically restrained, but suddenly your fight is gone with the bruising force of his grip. You've lost the urge to run, and Rhysand deftly strings the choker around your neck, clasping it and sheathing you in ten-thousand gold marks.
"Well I don't suppose this was your plan," The corners of his mouth pull briefly upwards, carefully, hesitantly, "But you're walking away much richer regardless. If you walk away, that is."
"I'm allowed to?" You ask, not sure if it's because of the mating bond or because you'd just been caught giving yourself the five-finger discount of his personal wares, "I- um, I didn't expect to leave here tonight."
"You don't have to," He smirks, and you try remembering if the expression had made your heart pound pre-bond, because it certainly does now, "I wasn't lying earlier when I said I'd planned on bringing you here."
"How flattering." You groan, forgetting for just a moment that you're speaking to the most feared High Lord, even if he is your mate, "You wanted to disrobe me even before the Cauldron told you to."
"'Disrobe' seems unfair," His face shifts into a pensive one, "I have a little more decorum than that. I don't shove my guests into the hallway when I'm done with them. No matter- the bed is yours, if you want it."
You cast a glance over to the satin-clad mattress, the choker of rubies resting lightly on your neck. For such an opulent piece it doesn't weigh you down, and you feel it settle against you like a second skin.
Rhysand's palms press to your hips again, sliding behind you to take up his former grip on your waist. it's a lot lighter now, you're being held instead of restrained, and you breathe a long sigh into the dwindling space between you.
"I was going to rob you because I dislike the way you hoard your wealth." You admit, stabbing the words into the silence between you when it begins seeming meaningful, "Ten-thousand gold marks could feed the entire Hewn City for a month, and yet, I have to fight for my scraps."
His eyes darken slightly, dimming as he edges backwards. His hands still hold your waist, but he's not angling his face towards yours anymore, giving you space to fill with any more biting words.
"Would you like to sell it?" He asks, fingers reaching up to ghost over the necklace, "Or would you like to keep it, and feed the city with my other funds?"
You reach for the choker yourself, fingers coiling around it dangerously, like a snake prepared to strike and snap the chain, "I'll only keep it if every mouth is fed. The moment someone goes hungry," You tighten your grip, and Rhysand's eyes track the movement, deepening as he notes that you're speaking of more than a choker in the moment, "It's gone."
"I understand." He nods, his jaw tight and his words clipped, "My court's politics are... complicated, at best. But," He bites the inside of his cheek, "No one should starve."
"Fix it." You snap without thinking, and you wonder belatedly how you'd begun commanding your High Lord when a mere ten minutes ago had you pilfering through his dresser, "And- I will consider staying."
"Stay tonight," He glances slyly at you, "Relax- I will stay in my office. Your plan is ambitious, and I'll need to work on the schematics. But tomorrow," He releases your waist, and your back hits the knob of the dresser once more, "We'll put boots on the ground. And you can make your decision."
You nod, your jaw clenched just as tightly as his. You exhale, and he steps away from you to eye the way you drift towards his expansive bed- it's big enough for his wings, you realize, the ones he'd almost slit your throat with.
"Sleep." He gestures towards the bed, but his gaze is piercing as he eyes you amusedly, "Just remember- the mating bond will prevent you from slipping out without my knowledge. Should you run off with any more of my family jewels," He reaches for the box in his dresser, tucking it beneath his arm, "I will know. And I will find you."
"To get your jewels back?" You ask, despite knowing you shouldn't.
"To get you back," His face drops determinedly, and your stomach flips again, "The jewels are yours now, but you? You are mine."
I'm here for a cinnamon stick! what about rhysand x virgin! reader first time having sex, she's nervous, but he's so comforting and everything. she loses blood and cries (not too much) and kind of freaks out, but he reassures her and tries to be the best for her. she doesn't feel much pleasure but she's happy she has done it with him.
so just rhysand who's so caring, comforting and reassuring even and especially in vulnerable moments for reader
thank you so much and love youuuuu
come join my acotar party!
i love you too!!
this post is 18+, minors dni.
There's something vaguely pleasurable about the way Rhysand's cock eases its way into your tight sex, but it's not anything like the rampant bliss you'd have imagined after hearing Nesta's descriptions of her nights with Cassian. In fact, it almost hurts- no, it does, and there's now a slight burning sensation from a spot that Rhysand's cock grates against with each of his deepening thrusts.
"Wait-" You gasp, fumbling to sit up, and he lets you, his cock slipping out of your cunt that he'd barely pressed into at all. Your stomach sinks when you see blood against it, a diluted streak running down the shaft of his dick that seems to be oozing from somewhere within you.
"Oh gods," You cry, choking on the sound as fear seizes at your gut. Rhysand jumps into action, his eyes briefly widening before he reaches for your thighs to hold them to the mattress.
"Breathe, breathe!" He insists, but your eyes are glued to the blood that's staining your fingers red as you dab them gently at your cunt, "It's okay!"
"I'm bleeding," Your voice is shaky, tears beading at your eyes, and the tremors seem to spread, your skin itching as you press your hand against your sex like you can heal it.
"It's because you've never done this before." He soothes, one hand flying up to cup your jaw and tilt your face towards him instead of the blood between your legs, "It happens to everyone. It's normal, I promise. Does it hurt?"
"Yeah." You whimper, sniffling weakly as overwhelm fogs your brain and reduces any hope you have of saving face, "I- It's not too bad, but it's bleeding, and I can feel it- it hurts a little."
"Okay." Rhysand nods, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth that you know he doesn't expect to be reciprocated. It's nice to know, that you can let him dote on you without him wanting more.
It seems now that the bleeding has stopped. It's apparently short-lived, and now that you're empty again, the pain has receded as well. But you can't shake your unease, and you lean into Rhysand's palm against your cheek.
"Do you want to stop?" He asks, and you appreciate that he hasn't asked if you'd want to keep going. He's expecting a refusal, and he's set you up to not feel guilty about it.
"I don't know," You hum, remembering the faint pleasure stirring beneath your belly. It had felt new, pleasant, and it was only the sting of your blood that had stopped it from growing. You don't feel the burning pain between your legs anymore, and there's not blood leaking onto the sheets. Your uneasiness has settled, not only kissed away by Rhysand's plush lips but soothed by the way he'd assured you it was normal for someone who hadn't had sex before. Just by the way he'd held you, tucked your face into his palm like a mug of tea he wanted to savor the warmth of, you know you won't want to continue with anyone but him.
He watches you think, thumb stroking gently over your cheekbone while your eyes slowly dry from your tears. Any lingering trails had been swept away by his hands and you make your decision as soon as you glance up at his eyes, finding not a trace of lust there, but an immense amount of love. They're shimmering, shining, gleaming with concern, with adoration, with devotion, with a look that says he'll be just as fulfilled if you turn out the lights and snooze against his chest than if you lay back against the bed and let him take you.
"I don't want to stop." You inform him, but he doesn't spring the second you announce it. His brows stay knitted together, the pad of his thumb still brushing across the soft skin of your cheek as he listens, waits for you to say more, "I liked it. At first, until- but you said it was normal, right?"
"It's completely normal." He nods, your face still cradled in one of his large palms, "It happens to everyone their first time."
"It doesn't hurt anymore." You sniffle, a lingering blockage in your nose itching at your sinuses, "If- if you go slow, and make sure I don't start bleeding again..."
"I don't want to do it if you're afraid." Rhysand frets, "We don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with. You're meant to enjoy this."
"I don't know if I can," You admit, as gracefully as possible while a grimace scrunches your features, "I'm- I think it'll get better with time, but for now it's... new. And I am afraid," You press your face against his palm when he looks like he might flee, darting into the bathroom to fill the tub and soak you in lavender suds to calm your nerves, "But I want to do it, and I want to do it with you. I'd be too afraid to do it with anyone else, Rhys," Your voice breaks, not with sadness or panic this time, but raw, unfiltered love, "I want it to be you. Please?"
"Now?" He asks, his own voice frail and wary, "You've been through a lot tonight. We can do this tomorrow, or the next night, or whenever you feel up to it-"
"No," You insist, head shaking despite his palm suctioned to your cheek, "No, I want it now." Then, at the boldness of your demand, you flush, your face heating against Rhysand's skin, "I want you to- to make love to me," You cringe at your own words, dropping your eyes to his collarbones, broad and covered with tanned skin, "Please?"
"I will." Rhysand breathes, his lips parted to let the words escape as he presses a steadying kiss to your forehead. His lips trail down the bridge of your nose, landing at its tip and clinging there like a dewdrop, "I promise I'll do everything I can to make it feel good. It might be uncomfortable," He reminds you, spreading his thighs again so that they're on either side of your hips, his cock now half-stiff and dragging against your inner thigh. You appreciate knowing he'd softened in your moment of crisis, and a brief bud of pleasure blooms in your core when his tip brushes against your slit, "-but I promise I'm going to make it as good as it can possibly be."
"I know," You mewl, your lips seeking Rhysand's own the way your fingers always drift to his when you walk side-by-side, constantly searching, always eager to press together. You let Rhysand press his weight against you, feeling his cock prod at your sensitive center between your legs, "Just- be gentle with me?"
"I promise." Rhysand vows, and his tongue dips into your mouth, licking away whatever worries had been poised to spill from your lips. He kisses you softly, sweetly, but hungrily, like he's savoring a meal instead of scarfing it down, and you let his thighs press to yours as he positions himself at your entrance.
It's better than it had been before, but the intrusion is just too new to ignore. You squirm, and Rhysand lets you writhe beneath him, his lips constantly pressing to wherever he can reach. When they land against your ear he hums sweetness into them, when they reach your own mouth they kiss yours raw. When they dip into the hollow of your throat, so does his tongue, and you shiver beneath the wet trail of spit he leaves behind.
Most of your pleasure comes from the little things he does, the way he squeezes your breasts and grinds your stiffened nipple beneath his palm, and the way he strokes his thumb against your sensitive clit. The way he's burying himself in your pussy is pleasurable, but until you get used to the feeling of penetration, you're not sure you'll be able to toss your head back against the sheets and scream Rhysand's name.
But he doesn't care, and you can feel himself trembling with the need to climax the more he tries getting you off beforehand. You croon in his ear, telling him to let go, and your voice is so tender that he does. He loses control, dick twitching in your warm, wet cunt before he shakes with his orgasm, teeth latching onto the soft flesh of your earlobe where he tries not to draw blood despite the raw pleasure that nearly knocks his wings off.
In his bliss-ridden stupor he pinches your nipple, hard enough that you catch the stray feeling of a possible climax and chase after it like a dog on the hunt for a rabbit. It's quick, fleeting, but you're desperate, and you manage to achieve a few seconds of what you're sure is an orgasm, albeit a mediocre one, before Rhysand is panting into the dewy skin of your neck and you're crying once again.
"I'm sorry," He pants, nose pressed into your jaw, "I'm sorry, I- did I hurt you? I'm sorry."
"No," You whimper, squirming closer to him while he tries keeping his distance. You're not sure why you're crying- they're not upset tears, but they're not happy ones either, and you crave Rhysand's comforting touch, "You didn't. It didn't hurt anymore. It was just something new. Please? Don't leave."
You can feel Rhysand's lips turn up in a grin, even if there's not as much charisma oozing from it as there'd normally be, "I wouldn't. Even if you hated it, and never wanted to see me again, I don't think I could leave right now. Lay down," he instructs, urging your muscles to relax against the mattress where you'd clung to him, "Rest, and I'll stay here all night."
He nestles his face closer to yours on the pillow once you settle, and his eyes shine with the same sincerity you'd seen earlier, when he'd been ready to scrap every ounce of lust you'd risen in him just to dry your tears. When he speaks it's in a murmur that's softer than soft, sweeter than sweet, pure love as he stares so intently into your eyes that you feel it in your heart, "I'll stay here for the rest of my life, if you want me to."
