#Rhysweek

[surielstea]

“Forgive me, Darling.”

Based on this request.

Pairing: Rhysand x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Rhys undermines Reader in front of the Hewn City, Reader makes him grovel before she accepts his apologies.

Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | 18+ | p in v | apology sex | dom sub dynamics | riding | oral (f receiving) | Reader making Rhys grovel | multi-orgasm | cream-pie | mating press

A. Note: This was really an excuse for me to write some Rhys smut… RhysandWeek got to me I fear, half of it is smut so enjoy 😼🙏

4.7k words

It was an effort to sit next to the High Lord tonight. Even with Winter Solstice so steadily approaching we couldn't stop being at each other's throats for the past week. The others in the Inner Circle were sick of our tedious bickering by now, and the rest of the Court might as well be too.

It was clear to the citizens of the Hewn City that we weren't getting along the best when we sat in our own separate thrones, while I typically opted to sit in Rhys' lap or he on the armrest while I took the main throne.

But it was the citizens of the Hewn City themselves that had cleaved our relationship right in two. While I was a natural sympathizer for these people, Rhys seemed to have half a thought about their well-being.

It drove me mad how easily he could cherish and love something, then turn around and loathe something else with the same fierceness. It was manipulative and vexing.

"Your grace," Keir drawled with a low bow and Rhys lifted a brow at Morrigan's poor excuse of a father.

"What is it?" The High Lord mused, the perfect mask of bored coldness in his violet eyes.

"The court was wondering if you'd be donating to the gift drive this season, all funds would go directly to the orphaned children of course," Keir said with a tone that sent shivers down my spine.

Rhys opened his mouth to say no, but I spoke first. "Of course Keir. We're not monsters," I say, tossing my mate a lethal glare.

"Are you mad? No," He looked to Keir. "I will not be donating, but you can tell them their queen will have a heavy chunk coming from her paycheck," Rhys bit back and the verbal assault immediately bruised her, tearing her down for speaking over him in a place like this was one thing but, in front of Keir? Using him as a device to get under my skin? It was a new level of low.

I bit back a snarl. "You're both insufferable," I stand. "And you bore me," I step down the dais with a careful queenlike elegance that came with only decades of practice. "I'm going home, perhaps finish some last-minute gift shopping," I shrug, my black gown shimmering like the stars in the sky with each move I made.

"I'll join you momentarily," Rhys said with a hand up as if to pause me. I didn't wait for him to finish before I winnowed back to Velaris, alone.

I was born in the Hewn City, and though I knew it was best if Rhys put on a mask in front of that court, it was hard to watch my mate who had one of the biggest hearts I'd ever seen be so cruel, be exactly what those citizens had expected him to be. A monster. A shiver went down my spine at the thought. It was a part of my role as High Lady to back whatever Rhys decided, but it was a part of his role to do the same with me. And when it came to the children of the Hewn City I drew the line, they had done no wrong, and half of them were too young to even realize that their king was a halfbreed, much less why that meant he was seen as lesser. They were innocent, doomed for failure since the beginning because of who their parents were. I sympathized with the orphans and knew exactly how much a donation would've mean to me because I used to be one of them.

Rhys winnowed into the sitting room, writhing shadows feathering off of his dark tunic as he whirled towards me, brows drawn.

"What'd you do that for?" He frowns at me and I mirror it.

"Children Rhys? Should I even dare ask when it might end?" I prop my hands up on his hips and he sighs, rubbing at his eyes.

"You know how I handle those things, I tell Keir no and then donate anonymously," He explained, annunciating every word like I was hard of hearing. The tone set me off. He was right, that's how we did it every year for solstice since Rhys became High Lord.

But tonight was my breaking point after weeks of needless arguments. "Yes, Rhysand. I know." I grit my teeth and his frown deepens as he hears me use his full name, something I always did unconsciously when I wanted him out of my face.

"Then why did you say we'd donate?" He lifts a brow and my shoulders are practically up to my ears with the tension building.

"Because, Rhysand, I'm so sick of you pretending to be someone that you're not," Again, the name makes him flinch. "I know how much you're capable of loving, and I understand you trying to protect us but I can't bear seeing you so ruthless to those people," I explain and he lets out a long sigh.

"You don't seem to understand the impossible situation I'm in." He closes his eyes, needing to rest them if only for a moment.

"What don't I understand?" I grab his jacket, gently gripping it as I stare up at him. "I've been beside you every step of the way, talk to me Rhysand. Or this isn't going to work," I gesture between us and his back shoots ramrod straight, at the underlying threat of taking a break from each other. He loathed the idea, and would rather argue for the rest of his life with me than not have me in his life at all.

"Don't say stuff like that," He murmured, his voice clipped like he couldn't quite breathe right.

"Then think twice before undermining me in front of a male like Keir," I scowl. "Hewn City or not, you're not allowed to silence me." I brush past him, my shoulder ramming into his bicep as I stalk down the hall to our bedroom, shutting the door with a resounding thud, but Rhys remains pinned in the same spot, cursing himself over and over again for his foolish behavior.

Over the next few days, Rhys had done everything in his power to apologize. Giving me countless gifts, and heartfelt monologues about how sorry he was, he even donated a good portion of his gold to the Hewn City orphanage. But I didn't forgive him, because I was certain he had yet to understand how much this truly meant to me. Besides, a small part of me liked watching him grovel.

At dinner with the rest of the inner circle later that evening, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Rhys had reached for my hand beneath my table twice now and I shook him off both times. We had both silently agreed on pretending everything was normal between us in front of the others, not wanting to worry them about the health of their high lady and lord relationship. So I put on a mask, as he often did, and pretended everything was fine.

"I'll see you in a few days for solstice eve," I hum as Morrigan gives me a hug while standing halfway out the door in the cold.

"I got you an amazing gift!" She beamed while backing away and I gave her an incredulous look. There was no arguing that Morrigans gifts weren't unique and personalized, but they were far from amazing.

"I'm sure you did," I hum. "Goodnight, Mor," I lean against the archway of the foyer and she gives me a wave before slipping out the door. Once everyone was officially gone I turned back to the sitting room where Rhys was sitting, staring at me curiously like I was a thing to be analyzed. "What?" I bark, my smile dropping.

"You keep calling me Rhysand," He stands from his seat, looking at me with furrowed brows, his wings drooping slightly, nearly dragging on the floor as he strides towards me but stops an arm's length away.

"That's your name, is it not? Or would you like to argue about that as well?" I arch a brow and his frown deepens.

"No, I just— It's Rhys. It's always been Rhys between us, in fact, you're the reason everyone calls me Rhys." He claims and I cross my arms over my chest, narrowing my gaze on him.

"This is what has been bothering you? This? Out of everything that has been going on, me saying your full name has gotten under your skin the most?" I scowl, unbelieving of his childish behavior.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, defeated.

"I know," I state.

"Then why?" His voice wavers. "Why can't I be forgiven?" He takes another step forward, nearly closing the distance between us if it weren't for his height.

"Because I don't think you've learned your lesson yet." I snarl and his brows crease, his familiar violet eyes glazing over.

"No please, I have darling," He cups my cheeks in his hands. "I have. I'm sorry." His hands were so gentle when holding my face as if I might break if he was any rougher.

I debated giving in for a moment, if only because my desire to feel his lips on mine again would be comparable to heaven— but I stayed strong, my own pride willing me to break away from his touch. "I know," I repeat, before walking down the hall and into our bedroom, closing the door behind me loud enough for him to get the hint that I didn't want to see him again that night.

A few days had passed and it was solstice eve, I was in the midst of getting ready for bed when there was a soft knock on my door. I didn't turn when the door opened, I knew who it was before he was even down the hall.

Rhys doesn't say anything, just stares as I take out my earrings and unlace my dress. I didn't mind him looking as I stripped down and changed into a soft, midnight blue nightgown, perhaps I was rubbing in the fact that he couldn't have me. Once I was finished I walked over to my vanity and began to comb through my hair.

"I can feel you staring, Rhysand." I finally spoke and I swore he growled at the name. I ignore it. He pushes off the doorframe and enters the room.

"What can I do it make it better?" I turn towards him to find him directly behind me, looking down at me with beseeching eyes. "I'm begging you," He whispers, our proximity so close that his nose was brushing against mine.

"You're begging me?" I raise a brow.

"Gods, yes darling. Do you want me to get on my knees and plead?" He suggests and I just stare at him as a reply, waiting.

His brows raise a fraction when he realizes I'm serious, and I cross my arms impatiently. It takes him a moment, but eventually, he drops down onto his knees.

His hands come to my hips and he looks up at me, his chin propped up on my stomach as he lets out a soft, "Please."

"Please what?" I place my hands on his shoulders, one of them finding its way into his dark, midnight-black hair.

"Please, forgive me." He murmurs. "Please, don't make us take a break." He continues, his hands on my hips tightening slightly. "And please, let me love you the way you deserve."

He had once told me he'd only ever fall to his knees for his crown, yet here he was, bending for me with only sincere affection in his eyes and regret forever making me feel like he deserved this.

I grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him up, crashing his lips onto mine. I kiss him, deeply, with the passion and desire that had been building up for the past week. I had forgotten how addictive he was and didn't realize how badly I needed him until he leaned into the kiss and filled the gaping void inside of me with warmth.

"I missed you so damned much, darling," He sighs and I smirk against his lips.

"Yeah?" I slip from his grasp and take a seat on the bed. "Why don't you come over here and show me?" I purr, letting my legs fall open as he prowls towards me and again, gets down onto his knees.

I smile devilishly at him as he begins kissing and nipping at my thighs, beginning to make amends with his mouth rather than words.

His covetous hands slip beneath my short nightgown, gripping my hips and pulling me to the edge of the bed. I lay back onto my elbows, propped up enough to watch him as he made his way up my thighs.

Ever so gently, he pulls at my undergarments and I lift my hips for access so he can further slip the panties down my legs. With reverence his eyes flick down to my glistening core, then back up to my eyes, his gaze holding a certain emotion I don't think I've ever seen the High Lord hone before.

I nod my head and he wastes no time before placing an open mouth kiss to my folds, then dragging it through my slit in a slow, savoring lap. I let out a soft moan at the feeling of his warm tongue finding my clit with a languid stroke. My fingers weave into his hair as he begins to suck on the bundle of nerves, sending me into a spiral.

I looked down at him but he was already staring up at me. But once he sees my lustful expression he can't seem to control himself before he dips down and spears his tongue into me. I release a breathy moan at the intense feeling. How could I have ever robbed myself of this for so long? Gods it was evil the things he could do with that mouth.

His fingers dug into the flesh of my hips as he devoured me like a man starved, his tongue-twisting and curling against a sensitive spot that sent me closer to the edge. I was unable to stop myself from grinding up onto his face, and he let out a guttural groan as I did so, because he knew then that I wanted him, that he was making me feel this good.

I maintained eye contact with him as he continued to drive me wild, violet irises filled with both apologies as well as desire. He draws one of my legs over his shoulder to deepen his access and I pull at his hair.

"That's it, gods yes," I gripe as his tongue toys with the sensitive area nestled deep inside of me.

My head falls back to look up at the ceiling as he brings one of his hands down and his thumb begins to roll over my clit. I whimper at the stimulation, my toes curling as he begins rubbing tight circles. I buck my hips at the intense feeling and he groans against the feeling of me tugging on his hair, the sound reverberating up my spine. "That's my girl," He purrs as my release steadily approaches. "Come on my face, fall apart for me my darling," He says, his voice tender as he coaxes your climax to draw closer.

I couldn't deny his demand, my pleasure too high to even debate it. My peak reaches and with a cry, my body convulses and an intense wave of pleasure crashes through me. He supports me, his arms around my thighs grounding me, his eyes never leaving mine as he removes his tongue from my entrance and softly laps up my dripping folds, his mouth shimmering in my essence. But it was only pride in his eyes as I came down from my high that I recognized, pride and, something far more primal than human.

"I forgot how good you taste," He whispers against my core, cleaning every lost drop from me with his mouth.

Slowly, he backed away, licking his lips that were glistening in my arousal.

"I want to ride you," I confess and his brows shoot up with carnal desire. Yes, that was exactly what I wanted.

I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him down onto the bed, his head falling into the pillows as I flipped over him and began working at the buttons of his shirt.

His hands joined mine, helping me by thrashing it off. I smile and attach my lips to his tanned skin, my tongue running over the lines of his tattoo while he frees himself from the confines of his pants. My mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock already leaking with need. I bite at my lower lip as I grip his length, spreading his pre and using it as a natural lubricant. I pumped him once, then twice. My grip was rough and tight, his head fell back into the pillows as he groaned in pleasure.

"Oh, my darling," He sighs out as I press my thumb to his sensitive tip.

His hands come to my thighs as I lift onto my knees and begin dragging his cock through my folds, prepping him for an easy entrance. I swore he got harder the moment my arousal met his.

He looked back at me, his eyes low-lidded. "You look like a goddess," He breathes, his voice husky with restraint. I knew he wanted to push me down onto him, to take dominance and flip me onto my back. But he reigned in his control and kept himself at bay for now.

I smile devilishly at him as I aligned his throbbing cock with my entrance. His eyes flicked down to the view and I froze. "Look at me," I direct and his violet eyes flick back up to my gaze, and I watch his expression as I sink myself down to him so very slowly, inch by inch.

His face contorts into a mix of pleasure and agony. "This is torture," He hisses, his fingers digging into my thighs in an effort to keep restraint. "Please, darling," He whispered the plea and I couldn't help but fold under his yearning gaze.

"Please what?" I say through a soft moan, the stretch of him painful at first yet turned into pure pleasure moments later.

"Please, take all of me and move, now baby," He pants out and I smirk.

"I'm barely halfway down and I've got you this worked up?" I tilt my head demeaningly and he lets out a low, guttural growl.

"You know exactly what you're doing to me, so please, you can take it," He begs and I smile.

"I know I can, but can you?" I murmur, tracing lines along his torso, following his dark tattoo.

"Oh I can," He sighs, his eyes glinting with amusement and I realize he wasn't strained from needing more, he was in agony because his control was thinning. "But if you don't take all of me right now, I'm going to flip us over and fuck you until we both forget our own names." He warns and I smirk, leaning forward— in doing so making him slip deeper inside of me, the new angle eliciting a soft moan from me.

"Is that right?" I purr, my nails trailing down the side of his neck.

"Last chance, baby." His jaw feathers. "Sit down or I'm taking over," He snarls, gripping my hips tighter, prepared to make true of his threat. I smile, leaning closer and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

I do as he says anyway, not wanting to take any chances. I let gravity make my last movement and allow myself to take all of his length, every last inch until he was fully sheathed inside of me and I was seated on him fully.

He lets out a long, deep moan, his head falling back into the pillows. "Gods, such a good girl," He praises, taking a few deep breaths and regaining his control.

Slowly I begin to rock my hips back and forth over him and he jerks at the movement, his hands tightening on my thighs as he begins to guide me over him, showing me exactly how fast he wanted me to go.

He lets out a string of curses as I set a pace, rolling and grinding over him, my thighs already burning with the movements. "Keep your eyes on me, yeah?" he says and I nod, as he slowly lifts me up on him, then pushes me back down, sending me into a rhythm. I began to bounce up and down on him, his thick length burrowing deep inside of me with each descent.

I keep eye contact with him, tears welling in mine as he lifts me faster, my breasts bouncing with the movement, and his captivating eyes don't miss it. "So beautiful," He whispers softly, his voice hoarse and strained as a string of moans escapes me.

"You like that baby?" He purrs, his gaze only sultry. I reply with a moan and a wicked smile forms over his lips as he pushes me to go faster, slamming me down into his hips, his tip brushing over my cervix.

He was enjoying this far too much, he was savoring the way I sounded, the way my body reacted. So desperate for a second release. I lean down, changing the angle and allowing him to hit my most sensitive point with the thick head of his cock.

"Gods, you feel so good wrapped around me like this," He purrs, his breath hot against my neck as his canines scrape against it.

I continue to fuck myself on him, my vision blurring as he abuses that sacred spot inside of me. "I'm close," I grunt, clenching my hands into fists as he spears into me, lifting his hips to help me reach that high.

"Yeah? Going to come, love?" He purrs into the shell of my ear and I nod, tears now slipping down my cheeks despite all my efforts to be in control.

"Yes, I can't control it much longer," I mewl, burying my nose into the crook of his neck.

He smiles, wrapping his arms around me. "That's okay, come for me darling," He allows and I find release, I finally meet my second orgasm.

"Rhys," I moan loud enough for the next room over to hear. Not Rhysand, but Rhys. The male's length twitches at the sound he so desperately had been needing to hear for the past week.

He didn't let me come down from my high for even a moment as he flipped me over onto my back, taking full control as he guided my legs up to my sides, folding me into a mating press.

"I'm not done with you yet, darling," He drawls huskily and my heart pounds against my ribs hard.

He pulls out to his tip and for a moment I'm gifted a kernel of relief, but it quickly ended when he pushed into me, spearing hilt deep as his heavy balls slapped into my ass. Arousal dripped down my thighs as he continued the movement and I turned into a moaning mess.

"You're so tight," He grunted out between thrusts. "Say my name again," He orders and I open my teary eyes to see him above me, his dark wings spread over us. Gods, he looked like a fucking devil like this. "Rhys," I plea and he smiles wolfishly.

"That's my girl, taking me so well," He praises, continuing to piston inside my puffy, overstimulated cunt.

He reaches down and I swear my heart stops as he makes contact with my pink clit. I whimper, my bottom lip wobbling as he pushes me towards yet another orgasm. "Come on baby, squeeze my cock," He demands and I writhe beneath him, clenching every inch of his length as he brushes my cervix repeatedly. His words and groans are a constant stream of encouragement as I hurtle toward my third orgasm.

I let out a loud, broken cry as my climax rips through me, each one more intense than the last. "Please, please tell me you're close," I beg as he lets out a choked groan, his movements becoming more and more erratic as control slips from his grasp. "Fuck, I am baby, I'm close," He pants out and I mewl his name desperately.

"Rhys, Rhys," I murmur like a chant, my mind too fucked out to think of anything else, just him.

"Look at me, I want you to watch while I come inside of you." He purred and my stomach twisted at his filthy words. My hands come around to his shoulders and I dig my nails into the muscle, clawing them down his back at the intense, unrelenting thrusting.

With a feral, desperate groan he buries his nose into my neck and finds his release, his warm seed spilling inside of me.  He shakes and trembles at the weight of his climax, he collapses down onto me, his body heavy and spent. His face was still buried in my neck as he regained his breath. "Fuck, I love you so much," He confesses as the sounds of our breathing fill the room.

"I love you, too," I whisper hoarsely, my voice shot from screaming his name. He nuzzles into my neck, placing gentle kisses along my collarbone slowly guiding my legs down and pulling from my entrance. "I'm sorry baby, I know you wanted to be in control but I— I can't help myself around you," He murmurs and I smile, pulling him into me for a loving kiss.

"Don't apologize, felt so good," I murmur tiredly. "Maybe we should argue more often," I add and he frowns at the idea and I giggle. "I missed you."

His eyes light up with pure adoration. "I missed you too," He hums, easing into the bed beside me and gathering me into his arms. "Now let's get you cleaned up."

The rush of solstice has passed and everything has returned to normal— well, almost everything.

The Court of Nightmares was teeming with its usual negative energy, the air thick with it. I had been seated in my own throne again, not quite ready to take up Rhysand’s lap in front of all the subjects again.

“My Lord,” Keir bowed low before the dais, then turned to me and gave me a simple bow of his head. Rhys gripped the arms of his throne at the action but remained calm all the same.

“What?” The high lord snarled.

“The price of the renovations of the homes in the slums are steadily increasing, to something far greater than what we can afford with the money you’ve so graciously given.” He hums and I sit up. I grew up in the slums, I would’ve taken a man’s life for the opportunity to proceed with the renovation plans I had given Rhys a few days ago, would’ve taken a lot more than a life to give to that community, actually.

“Then we’ll triple the funds,” I state and Keir casts me a glance, then looks back to Rhys. I wanted to rip his face off. I was seated on a throne before his people, I had the power to tear this entire court down and yet he treats me with such disrespect and contempt.

“Why are you still here?” Rhys asked the steward. “My High Lady has just answered your issue, did she not?” Rhys tilts his head with creased brows.

“Of course, my lord,” Keir bows to the male, and something in his spine locks and I know, know that Rhys’s talons had captured Keirs mind and was prepared to shatter it, until Keir turned to me and bowed at the waist, then lower, nearly falling to his knees.

“Dismissed.” Rhys hummed, waving his hand and releasing the males mind.

I smile as I watch him leave, and settled a little deeper into my throne. Oh, I liked this a little too much.

A flicker of Rhysand’s darkness curled caressed up my neck, to trace the contours of my jaw. I turn to look at him and give him a wicked smile, he mirrors it and we turn back to the Nightmare of a court we ruled over, together.

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[leiaamidala]

𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒊𝒖𝒎𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒕—𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝑬𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍.

 ⊱❊⊰⁣⁣⁣

⁣⁣⁣⤞ art by @lamonyo (💜)

⤞ commissioned by me

⊱❊⊰⁣⁣⁣

Celebrating Rhys Week, Bonds Day. Dedicated to all my Feysand fam. 

Do not repost, please.

[fourteentrout]

A disheveled Rhys I did at work a while back that I never posted. Figured I could share at least SOMETHING for @officialrhysandweek

I didn't even realize it was Rhysand week until yesterday, so I'm sure this could fit some of the other prompts, but it's also just a doodle so I think it's perfectly fine to post it on the Free Day.

To make up for the fact that he is literally at his lowest point here, have a more unserious bonus:

A silly little scheming High Lord

[officialrhysandweek]

Almost time...

Make sure you have your calendars marked because 2024 Rhysand week is only 5 days away

What's your favorite thing about the Most Powerful High Lord?

[taymartiart]

Day 2: The Illyrian Warrior

@officialrhysandweek

[shallyne]

Rhys Week Day 8: Free Day

Birthdays and Cakes

Feyre tried to be as quiet as possible she threw a robe over her nightgown and sneaked out of the bedroom. It was hard enough to wiggle out of Rhys's death grip without waking him up.

She quietly opened the door of Nyx bedroom and looked inside, checking if he still slept. Feyre wasn't surprised when she found him already sitting in his bed, grinning at her. She promised Nyx that they would wake up earlier this morning to bake a cake for Rhys, for his birthday. That's also how she got Nyx to sleep earlier the evening before.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Feyre whispered. He laughed and jumped up, running to Feyre and hugged her legs. She picked him up, peppering his face with kisses. "We have to quiet, okay?" Feyre said. "We don't want to wake Daddy up before we are done, right?"

Nyx nodded. "Can we bake now?"

Feyre smiled. "Yes, we can bake now." He threw his arms around Feyres neck, his wings twitching in excitement. His wings always gave his mood away. Cassian was the first to say he'd train that with him but Feyre thought it was adorable.

She winnowed them down to the kitchen, taking a chair with her free hand and putting it front of the counter. Nyx was already eyeing the ingredients that Nuala and Cerridwen left out for them when she put him on the chair. She pulled out the recipe, that Elain and the shadow twins wrote for her, out of her the pocket of her robe. "Alright." Feyre sighed, taking a bowl and placed it in front of Nyx. She let Nyx pour the ingredients in the bowl that she measured. Cracking the eggs she guided Nyx hands with her own. He always watched wide-eyed and seeing his excitement, Feyre prayed that nothing would go wrong. She couldn't cook and she never tried herself at baking. She was grateful for Elain and the twins that they wrote everything down, step for step.

Nyx complained when she started to mix everything together, wanting to do it himself. She used that time to quickly make Nyx a snack, because she knew that his arms would grow tired soon and she'd take over again.

When he told her that he couldn't mix anymore, she pulled back his chair and gave him his snack. From his spot on the chair he watched as Feyre continued.

"We're baking a cake, Mama!" he said excitedly.

"I know, baby. You did so great, I'm proud of you." she replied. She was sure that Nyx would be sick of hearing that, so often she told him. She couldn't keep herself from telling him, she was incredibly proud of her son and she wished her parents would have told her when she was a child. Or a teenager, Feyre thought back to the years where she went to the woods to hunt. She looked at Nyx, who smiled brightly at what she just told him.

Shortly after, Nuala entered the kitchen. Nyx told her about the cake as Feyre poured the batter into a form. Nuala listened, smiling as he told her everything. Keeping every little detail in.

Feyre looked at the clock. Even if everything went as planned, they were a little behind the time Feyre had planned. She felt Rhys stirring through the bond. It wouldn't be long until he was awake.

"I can take care of that." Nuala said. Feyre nodded, they were as good as done. It was just about baking now and Nuala was about to make breakfast, so she was in the kitchen either way. "Thank you." Feyre said, picking Nyx up again.

"No!" Nyx squirmed.

"Do you not want to wake up Daddy?" Feyre asked. As he frowned up at her, she held back a smirk. She knew waking up Rhys was more important to Nyx than the cake. It was their tradition. Feyre and Nyx woke Rhys up on his birthday and Rhys and Nyx woke up Feyre on her birthday.

They went up again and Feyre already got Nyx ready for the day. She stayed with him as he brushed his teeth and then she brushed his hair and dressed him. He looked adorable in a shirt that was similar to what Rhys was usually wearing.

When she felt Rhys waking up, Feyre went to their bedroom door. "Ready?" she asked Nyx.

"Yes!" he said, already jumping up and down in participation. She opened the door and Nyx was racing inside, climbing on the bed and throwing himself on Rhys.

Rhys made an oof sound and then Nyx yelled "Happy Birthday, Daddy!" her mate chuckled and hugged Nyx. Feyre smiled as she watched her boys. Rhys cuddling Nyx and Nyx babbling and laughing and repeating "Happy Birthday!"

Feyre joined them, sitting on her side of the bed and watching them. Rhys looked up at her, smiling. "Good morning, Feyre darling."

Feyre grinned as she leaned down. "Happy Birthday, my love." she whispered and kissed him. Nyx deemed it too long and squeezed his hand between their faces, breaking them apart. Rhys chuckled when he saw Nyx's frown. Nyx leaned into Feyre and she pulled him on her lap. Rhys took the chance to sit up, leaning against the beds headboard.

"Do you want to give it daddy now?" Feyre whispered to Nyx.

"Yes!" he said. Rhys raised an eyebrow in question. Feyre grinned and pulled a piece of paper out of the pocket realm. She gave it Nyx who excitedly gave it Rhys. Nyx had painted his hands and pressed them on the paper a few days ago. He was so happy about the result that he decided it was the gift he wanted to give his father on his birthday. After he painted a rainbow on the paper and Feyre helped him write "Happy Birthday" Nyx gave Feyre the picture to keep it until today.

Rhys smile grew wider as he looked at it. Nyx giggled but suddenly he turned serious. Tugging on Feyres robe. "What is it?" she asked.

"Mama." he said.

"What?" she asked.

"Mama." he repeated, putting a hand on her cheek. Feyre leaned down and he whispered in her ear "The cake."

The cake. Shit. The cake. Fuck. She sat Nyx on Rhys's lap and jumped up. "I'll be back in a minute." she said and hurried out. Ran barefoot down the stairs, to the kitchen. She pushed open the door and almost collided with Nuala. "Sorry." Feyre breathed. "I forgot the cake-" Nuala was here. Of course. She was here and looked after the cake. How could Feyre forget? But it wasn't Nuala who worked on the cake, it was Elain.

Elain who smiled at her. "I'm sorry but I already made the cream. Don't worry I won't be decorating that's your and Nyx' job, I just thought Nyx may lose his patience while smoothing the frosting. It takes a little while."

Feyre let out a relieved breath and hugged her sister. She was surprised for a moment but quickly hugged her back. "Thank you." Feyre said. "I completely forgot until Nyx just reminded me."

Elain giggled. "It's not the first time."

Feyre laughed. "That was one time."

"You burnt soup!" Elain laughed.

Feyre rolled her eyes but echoed her laugh. "And it was the last time I burnt food."

"Today was almost the second time." she said, a smirk on her face.

Feyre snorted. "Shut up." she said, turning around to go to her mate and son again. "Thank you, Lainey."

Elain rolled her eyes at the name but smiled and said. "You're welcome, Fey."

Feyre winnowed into her bedroom again. Rhys and Nyx were laughing when she entered. They both looked up at her at the same time. "Breakfast!" she said, nodding at Nyx. He grinned and crawled to her. She helped him climb from the bed and he took her hand. "Come, daddy!" he said.

He groaned as he stood up. "I'm coming." Feyre took a quick peek out of the window. It was raining. Then her eyes went back to Rhys, who slightly limped. His knee hurt.

"I'm fine." he said when he reached them, kissing Feyres cheek.

"I know you are." Feyre said.

As they walked in the dining room, most of their family was already there. Except Azriel, who followed soon after. Even if Rhys told them that it wasn't necessary, they all hugged him, Cassian picking Rhys up while at it, which made Nyx laugh. Though Amren stayed at her spot and said "Happy Birthday, boy."

The rest of the day was just being around the family. It was nice seeing Rhys so relaxed and Nyx had the time of his life playing with his aunts and uncles. Especially when Cassian started throwing him in the air and catching him. Nyx thought it was hilarious, though Feyres heart stopped everytime he was in the air. But everytime he threw Nyx up, Nyx wings twitched as if he'd try to fly. Rhys looked extremely proud every time that happened. They started teaching him the basics not that long ago and he made great progress.

It wasn't until noon Feyre finally could get ready and dress herself. Making herself presentable.

In the afternoon she sneaked away with Nyx, decorating the cake, finishing it. She let Nyx do it and after she lit the candles, Cassian came in and carried the cake, as Feyre picked up Nyx and held the door open for Cassian.

Rhys smiled when they put the cake down. "Wish!" Nyx said and they all laughed. It took a few seconds until Rhys leaned forward and blew out the candles, then his eyes wandered to Nyx and Feyre. Nyx clapped happily.

Feyre cuddled in beside Rhys, laying her head on his shoulder as Nyx told him about how he made the cake.

I am incredibly grateful to have you. You and Nyx. I love you. He said down the bond.

Feyre smiled. I love you, too.

[ggiuliass]

Rhys’s power rumbled in the room. “I do not want to be High King. There is no need to discuss it.”

“Yours is a terrible and beautiful power, Rhysand,” Amren said, sighing. “You have three magic blades before you, each a kingmaker in its own right, and yet you would rather share that power. Keep to your borders. Why?”

Rhys demanded, “Why do you want me to turn conqueror?”

Amren shot back, “Why do you shy from the power that is your birthright?”

Amren never says something if she doesn't truly believe it, if she doesn't know it for sure. It's Rhysand birthright to be high king, nonetheless he is the most powerful high lord prythian has ever had.

The cauldron wants him to be high king 👇🏻

“I will not be High King. I will not consider it, not today and not in a century.”

Amren looked to the great sword, still slowly rotating above them. “Then explain to me why, after thousands of years, objects that once crowned and aided the old Fae have returned. The last time a High King ruled Prythian, it was with a magic sword in his hand. Look at that great sword before you, Rhysand, and tell me that it is not a sign from the Cauldron itself.”

Cassian’s breath caught in his throat. “It was a fluke, Amren. Nesta didn’t make it on purpose.”

Amren shook her head, hair swaying. “Nothing is a fluke. The Cauldron’s power flows through Nesta, and could use her as a puppet without her knowledge. It wanted those weapons Made, and thus they were Made. It wanted Rhysand to have them and thus the blacksmith brought them to you. To you, Rhysand, not to Nesta. And do not forget that Nesta herself—and Elain, with whatever powers she has—is here. Feyre is here. All three sisters blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match your own. Feyre alone doubles your strength. Nesta makes you unstoppable. Especially if she were to march into battle wearing the Mask. No enemy could stand against her. She’d slay Beron’s soldiers, then raise them from the dead and turn them on him.”

I think that there's gonna be a point where rhysand has no choice but to be high king. I HOPE SO.

Sarah give us rhysand high king. he would be the one who deserves it, he is the one who has been chosen to be high king.

[wonolbee]

If you want your shit posted to rhysweek, please stop blocking pro-rhys blogs if you want it to be reblogged

[the-lonelybarricade]

Thinking about how the one time Feyre sucks Rhysand's dick on page, he barely let her have it in her mouth for a full minute before he was flipping them over.

This man cares almost exclusviely about his wife's pleasure and I just think that's beautiful

[maherdraws]

#rhysweek day 4 | childhood; they do snowball fights since they were littles and that makes me tear up a bit cause I imagine little azzy, cass and rhysie being kids and having fun.🌌🦇🥹

[queercontrarian]

i need a short project to distract myself from my long projects. help me pick one of my wips to work on

[booksimpsblog]

[officialrhysandweek]

Hello and welcome to tumblrs Rhysand week! So excited to be hosting this and engaging with you all! For 2024 you can find lots of Rhys love here from August 18-24. Find more info about the event below as well as the 2023 masterlist!

Event Masterlist

Guidelines

Prompts

Some more guidelines for posting and tracking content (on tumblr and AO3)

2023 Event Masterlist

If you have any questions, feel free to reach out!

[shallyne]

"Rhys - it's too much."

"Not for you. Never for you. He slid his arms around my waist, kissing my temple." Build a House with a painting studio." He kissed my other temple. "Build a house with an office for you, and one for me. Build a house with a bathtub big enough for two - and for wings." Another kiss, this time to my cheek. "Build a house with a garden for Elain, a training ring for the Illyrian babies, a library for Amren and an enormous dressing room for Mor." I chocked on a laugh at that. But Rhys silenced it with a kiss on my mouth, lingering and sweet. "Build a house with a nursery, Feyre."

I AM NOT CRYING YOU ARE

Acofas chapter 22

[the-lonelybarricade]

No one look at me. This isn't my best but we're being forgiving in the spirit of Rhysweek (and the fact that I started this in earnest at midnight after being sad). Bon Appétit

Rhysweek Day 5: Beast Form

Five Times the Beast Was Subdued (and the One Time It Wasn't)

Words: 2.4k

CW: Monsterfucking, Breeding Kinks

-

The first time Rhysand felt the beast truly stir beneath his skin was the day Pyrthian was released from Under the Mountain.

It was the first time he had seen Feyre in the sunlight.

He had turned to say goodbye to her, and had seen the way her blue-gray eyes glinted with something other than contempt. No one had looked at him that way—like he was something other than a monster—in nearly 50 years.

It was then that their mating bond snapped into place, and the beast had stirred, as if in dissent. Like it wanted to prove her wrong, prove that there was nothing worth considering inside his bleak and hollow chest.

Rhysand had never wanted so fiercely as he had on that veranda, feeling the beast thrash against its cage. Telling him to take Feyre and flee. To claim her, regardless of what she had to say in the matter.

It was why he fled, and it was why he didn’t dare see her for three months.

-

The second time, it had been scratching at the walls for the entire week leading up to Feyre’s wedding day.

Mine, it would whisper into the darkness. When there was nobody but Rhysand to listen.

It raged at the idea that Feyre would be married to someone else. And for that entire week, every time he’d seen flashes of naked golden skin through the bond, he’d been promptly sick over a porcelain bowl.

His skin felt itchy and forgein, only moments away from bursting into the cruel Lord of Nightmares that the rest of the world thought him to be. And who's to say what would have become of him if Feyre did marry Tamlin.

But fortunately that day, he’d heard her begging through the bond.

Help me, help me, help me.

The moment he’d arrived in Spring, in a crash of thunder and a clamor of screams, the beast had looked at Feyre and gone quiet. Content in knowing that she was being taken home.

Mine, it had said, but nothing more.

-

The beast itched every moment Rhysand spent around Feyre, breathing in her scent without tasting it. He felt restless. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. But it stayed in its cage.

Until Keir had said to Feyre in the Court of Nightmares, “You’ll get what’s coming to you, whore.”

Then the beast had snarled. Rhys had felt the shape of it, forming talons around his fingers, manifesting wings at his back. He’d wanted to tear Keir apart with his bare hands for threatening his mate. But the Hewn City was the one place, above all, where Rhys couldn’t let his control slip.

So he’d harnessed that rage until it was something colder, more refined. And Rhysand had smiled as he shattered every bone in Keir’s arm, listening to the beast purr with approval.

-

The fourth time, the beast very nearly escaped.

And Rhysand couldn’t say for certain that it hadn’t.

Hybern’s ravens had broken into the library in the House of Wind. The safe haven that he had created not just for the priestesses, but for himself. The fact that they invaded his home and had threatened the safety of his citizens would have been enough to make him vengeful. But they had threatened his mate.

He had choked on the scent of her fear when he found her fleeing the dark shelves of the library. Rhysand had never known bloodlust like what he’d felt in the pits of that library. His fingers had turned to razor sharp talons, and he’d used them to ribbon their skin like a blade through water. The beast had hummed.

-

Then in the second War with Hybern, Rhysand had become one with the beast entirely.

-

And it had been a good while since he’d last felt the beast tugging at its chains.

There had been occasional moments that piqued its interest, but its attention had always been passive. Happy to observe when it was called to lend a talon, curled up contentedly whenever Rhys was bathed in the scent of his mate.

Feyre had always been the one to rouse it, afterall.

“Please,” Rhysand gasped.

A silken laugh was his answer.

“Feyre.”

“You know what to say.” She smiled at him, the mischief in it so fitting for his Court—their Court. He swore as she slowly ran her tongue under the underside of his cock. Her Court.

His breath was in a race to escape, fleeing his lungs faster than he could grasp for air. “Please,” he said again, hissing as she scraped her nails along his thighs. It wasn’t the pleasure that drove him mad—though as she hollowed her cheeks and took him into her mouth, it very well could have been.

Rhysand barked out another curse, bucking his hips before he could stop himself. The chains around his wrists and ankles rattled in reprimand. Feyre pulled away with a pout on her wet, glistening lips.

He could have died for how badly he wanted to taste them. How much it destroyed him to see that trail of saliva connecting her perfect mouth to the head of his cock. Her arousal was so thick in the air he was practically drowning in it.

Chains rattled again. These ones darker, more ancient. More powerful.

“Let me touch you,” he begged.

A soft hand closed around his shaft, and she held his eyes as she slowly pumped her fist over the length of him. He was practically keening, squirming under that desire to touch, to claim, to taste. It was wrong—so, so wrong. To smell her arousal and not be buried in it, be it his tongue or his fingers or his cock.

She was torturing him with their own mating bond and she knew it.

“Let me—”

“No.”

The authority in her voice was so deliciously sharp. He groaned.

Feyre continued her cruel exploration of his body, running her thumb over his flushed head to spread the arousal beading there. Rhys ached. He was so hard it was painful, but it was the desire that truly ambushed him.

It clawed through his veins, until he was panting, until he was whimpering, until he was releasing a cage he’d long thought empty.

“Oh?” Feyre released his cock to examine the scales crawling over his stomach, unspooling faster than he could contain it. By the time he’d noticed, Feyre had already glided a finger over the ridged skin.

The beast’s collar snapped.

Rhysand snarled, which only made her giggle.

“You wouldn’t be losing control now, would you, Rhysand darling?” Feyre leaned down to swipe her tongue languidly against the head of his purpling cock. The growl in his throat was unbidden, as were the talons manifesting over his fingers. The feathers he could feel unfurling around his neck.

“I’ve never—” he grunted as she swirled her tongue playfully, lifting her eyebrows to prompt him to continue. He thrashed against the chains instinctively. “Feyre, I’ve never—”

“Fucked someone as the beast?” She was staring at his cock so hungrily. “You didn’t tell me this changed, as well.”

And fuck, Rhysand didn’t know whether to be proud or embarrassed. His cock was bigger like this, but in a way he wasn’t certain was inviting. It had turned the color of a moonless night, was now scaled and bulbous. He’d been worried something so beastly looking would intimidate a female.

But Feyre wasn’t just any female. And if he couldn’t see his mate’s hunger in her stunning eyes, he could smell it. Rhys pulled against the restraints again.

“I don’t just want to fuck you,” he said roughly, still drying to fight the last dregs of the beast. Before it took control entirely. He could hear its growl in his voice. “I want to…”

“Go on,” she purred, climbing up his chest.

Nails scraped over his rough, onyx skin. He arched off the bed instinctively, trying to get closer to her touch, fighting to get close enough to take.

“I want to breed you,” he warned. Feyre’s eyes darkened with lust. And he wanted so, so badly to break out of his bonds and flip her over the bed. She buried her fingers in his feathers, and Rhysand practically gnashed his teeth at the feral pleasure. “I want to fill you up until you’re carrying my—”

Anything the beast had to add was smothered by Feyre casually placing her cunt over his mouth. If he had more sense, he’d have laughed at her ingenious way of shutting him up. But Rhysand was too consumed by the taste of her to do more than growl his satisfaction.

He hated that he couldn’t hold her. When Feyre sat on his face, he liked to have his arms wrapped around her thighs, crushing her to his mouth while he played with her clit. It always won him the most exquisite whines.

But now Feyre gripped his head, taking full control in grinding her face against him. Rhysand took what he could get, licking desperately. Like he knew he’d never eat another meal again. His entire body hummed in pleasure, tasting that sweet and salty musk, saying, this is right. This is good. This is where I belong.

She stroked her hand through his feathers, murmuring good boy in a voice so fittingly sweet.

“I’m going to ride you,” she said, as honeyed as her arousal. “And if you’re good and stay still until I come, I’ll take you out of these chains so you can breed me.”

A shudder cascaded down his spine, rippling over his feathers and scales.

“Deal?”

Rhysand grunted in response, still savoring her cunt with every eager stroke of his tongue.

When she lifted off of him, he growled in protest. Feyre tutted. “You agreed to be good.”

She didn’t wait for further protest before she aligned herself over his cock and sunk onto it. All the air punched out of his lungs. She was so tight like this. Clenching almost painfully around the beast’s cock as he stretched her. Rhysand’s head fell back, and his body practically shook with the effort not to thrust upwards. Even the beast, feral as he was, detested the idea of hurting her.

“Fey-ruh,” he panted. The metal of his chains creaked as he dug his talons into them. She was still slowly working herself onto his cock, moving in torturously slow circles as she accommodated to his size.

“Why haven’t we done this sooner?” She asked, just as breathless. Rhys shut his eyes once he was fully seated, just choking off a roar that surely would have alerted the entire city. But then she began lifting her hips, grinding against him so that her clit rubbed against his pelvis.

She moaned, and he decided he simultaneously loved and hated everything about this. Feyre was exquisite. Face flushed with pleasure, lips parted, backed arched to show off her beautiful breasts. He could drink in the sight and never grow tired. But at the same time he was so damn jealous of his own body. That she was the one pleasuring herself and not him.

Rhysand was starting to feel restless. He wanted so desperately to give. He could be touching that clit right now, spiraling her into pleasure faster than her slow, excruciating ascent.

But then again, that was her aim.

The taunting smile said it all, but so did her diminishing pace.

Feyre paused, leaning down until her breasts were pressed against his chest. He savored the heat of her body, and knew from her small gasp that she must have enjoyed the scrape of scales against her nipples.

She pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. “What if I just laid like this the rest of the night?” She teased. “Just kept you warm inside me?”

It would be wonderful. But only after he’d fucked her senseless.

“Cruel,” he rasped. He groaned as she clenched around him, clearly pleased with her effect.

“I can feel you shaking,” she whispered, skimming her hands over his biceps. “Is that how hard you’re trying not to lose control?”

Rhys gritted his teeth rather than answer.

But his mate was a determined creature. She pressed their noses together, so that he could feel the heat of his breath.

“Go ahead, Rhys.”

He obeyed instantly, snapping his hips upwards. Feyre gasped, and that was all it took. He began rutting in abandon, caring only about drawing that reaction from his mate. Every small gasp of pleasure, every moan that was his doing. He reveled in it.

Until she was gasping his name, a chant of encouragement. “Rhysand—Rhys, Rhys, Rh-ah!”

Euphoria fluttered down the bond as his mate’s walls began spasming around him. He groaned in a mix of relief and pleasure, the beast inside practically preening at having satisfied his mate. But still prowling. Still hungry.

Feyre lifted herself off his chest so she could untie his binds.

Freedom.

His mate gasped as he grabbed her, flipping her onto her stomach so he could enter her from behind in a single thrust. His body trembled at the loud moan that earned him.

“Gonna fill you up,” he was gasping, thrusting his hips into her with an urgency that had Feyre’s moans slurring into each other. Until all he knew was his mates cries and the sound of wet, slapping skin. “Need to keep you bred full.”

“Yes,” she was saying, muffled in the bedsheets and half lost to the wails of pleasure.

“So pretty,” he said, reaching for her hair. He pulled, not wanting anything to impeded the sounds she was making. “You’re going to look so pretty with a swollen stomach.”

“Rhys.”

“Is this what you want Feyre? To get fucked and bred by a beast?”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, yes, yes, ye—”

“Come,” he snarled. “Be a good girl and come on the beast’s cock.”

He could feel her walls fluttering again, could feel his own balls tightening. “You’re mine,” he reminded her, before slamming to the hilt. She screamed as they came together, and his cocked throbbed in relief as he spilled inside his mate.

“And I’m yours,” he added softly, watching the scales slowly ebb back into golden brown skin. He curled his body around her, offering a tender kiss to her shoulder, her neck, her cheek. “So irrevocably and completely yours.���

[shallyne]

Rhys Headcanon

Rhys sometimes still has nightmares and he loses his darkness (like the nightmare scene in acomaf) and Feyre wakes him up and he cuddles into her while she tells him stories about the IC, sending him moments of Nyx through the bond or she asks him about positive moments with the IC (snowball fight, Mors drunk stories, Amren beating up Cassian when he makes fun of her) to calm him down. He doesn't let go of Feyre for the rest of the night even when he falls asleep again.