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stxrvel · 4 months

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the cliff (1)

hi guys! this is the first azriel fic i post here. i mainly do marvel but i just couln't stop thinking about this so i decided to take it forward. i hope you guys like this! see u next time <;33

summary: you never thought that the road to your mate could bring so much suffering… pairing: azriel x f!reader words: +4k warnings: briefly descriptions of torture, bad words, descriptions of sorrow¿?, angst but a happy ending, i think. also, English is not my first language and i actually read acotar in another language, so sorry for any mistakes! and also!! i haven't read a court of silver flames, so probably the facts around cassian and nesta's bond and feyre's pregnancy aren't accurate, sorry for that!

part 2: the house

part 3: the court

part 4: the routine

You were sure that the decisions you had made shouldn't have led you to that place. With your limp legs dragging against the grass, the wet feel of the mud drying coldly on your skin with each gale, increasing the chills that ran through your body, not only because of the dread and fear you had for your life, but because of the scorching frost on the top of that cliff.

There was something magical about wishing upon a shooting star. You knew it, your parents were living proof that it worked. They had met just after your mother had wished upon a dying star. Mates. And they promised you it would be the same for you. You hoped it would be the same for you when, encouraged by your same parents, you wandered Prythian in search of meeting the other end of the bond that you knew connected you to someone beyond, in search of a connection greater than you could ever understand.

You firmly believed in that magic one night, in the midst of the lonely and almost desolate journey from end to end, when lying watching the night sky you saw it pass by. A helpless shooting star.

You made your wish with your heart in your hand, closing your eyes and whispering as if it were a prayer. Maybe it was. You didn't know if that was what had gone wrong.

All you knew was that, the next day, your journey was over.

You hadn't finished waking up when you found yourself being dragged across the ground of the Day Court, right at the border it shared with the Night Court, from the hands of Ilyrian soldiers who wouldn't listen to your shouted words. Or simply preferred to ignore them.

You weren't sure how much you had screamed at them, even as they took you in the most savage way possible and furrowed you through the wind, the cold gusts of the Nightmare Court piercing your skin. But it had to have been a good while, because the next time you were above ground your throat was so dry you could barely breathe.

You didn't know what was going on, not even when days later, after feeding yourself with only mush and water, you met the first person willing to tell you something and not turn his face away from you. It was a man, Ilyrian too, with gigantic black wings that covered almost all the light in the small room where you were held captive. His constant presence invoked darkness.

He never introduced himself. He would only ask “who sent you?”, waiting for a sane answer from you, one that you couldn't give because every time you tried to say something that was not remotely like what he wanted to hear, he would move two fingers of his left hand and two more soldiers would enter the room and grab you roughly by the arms, pulling you closer to a barrel with water that was in the corner of the room. That was the water you usually drank, and it was never as cold as when they entered the room.

Needless to say, after a couple of days, you couldn't even go near the water anymore.

It could've been a couple of days, weeks or months… you weren't sure anymore. Time had become an insignificant concept compared to your desire for freedom. You had explained countless times to the Ilyrian the reasons why they had found you wandering near the Court, but that wasn't enough. Not even when you told him that they could confirm it with your family in the Summer Court. No excuse was good enough, the Ilyrian seemed to simply want to find a culprit, whatever he had to do, whoever he had to point the finger at.

And then, one day, you thought you saw a glimmer of hope. Another lone shooting star, which you barely caught through the bars the room had for windows. The memory of your parents flooded your memory, a dark cloud settling over you and drowning out any sense of calm you were able to collect after the ilyrians left. Through tears and sobs you begged the star for a way out, hoping its magic was powerful enough to fight the savage soldiers.

The next day more ilyrians than usual appeared, but they did not enter the room. Not after the High Lord of the Night Court did so first.

And you thought the star had heard you.

“She didn't say anything?”

His dismissive, indifferent tone almost made you shudder on the icy floor, but you didn't let that take away your hope, kneeling in front of him with dried tears and dirt on your face. With your hands clasped in front of you, as if he were a deity personified, you begged him to listen to you, but you had to watch him send you a disinterested glance before he turned in the direction of the entrance.

“Take her away.”

You didn't know why you had expected the high lord to intercede on your behalf, knowing the stories that brimmed through the Courts in Prythian. Your parents had warned you. They encouraged you to pursue the bond on your chest, but begged you to go no further than Court Day if the bond demanded it. They made you promise to return, and that they would then seek a way to find your mate if he or she was beyond the Night Court. You should've heeded, of course you did. When you saw the cold, emotionless eyes of the high lord's face, you regretted every decision you had made.

Even though you knew it shouldn't have been that way, because you had never done anything wrong. You had never tried to harm someone. Maybe that made it harder. Wondering every night why. Why did you deserve to go through that? What evil was it that you were paying for?

There was something magical about wishing on a shooting star, but that magic wasn't guarded for you.

Azriel had been spending sleepless nights for weeks now, without explanation. Things were quiet in Velaris, even in the Court of Nightmares. But when he entered the darkness of his room at night, when he tried to close his eyes with his wings spread across the bed, a knot stirred in his chest. Tears would well up behind his eyes and a sadness would engulf him from head to toe. It was so overwhelming that there were few nights when Azriel could contain the feelings and despair of his shadows.

He tried not to let that deficiency interrupt his work, but it was difficult when his eyes would close at the table during breakfast, or in the middle of the room when Rhys talked about the weekly goals. Several times his friends would start asking questions, but it was easy for Azriel to say he had trouble sleeping because that was never an uncommon occurrence over the course of his long life.

It was once Rhys told him that he had told Madja about his problem and she had sent him some herbs that it all started to get weirder.

Yes, Azriel was able to fall asleep. But every night he had strange dreams. Dreams of a life that was not his own. Memories of someone else he didn't even know. Another woman's life, somewhere Azriel could barely remember when he woke up, with more people who must have been close to her, but not to him, who shared her day to day life, who celebrated together with her, who were happy. Azriel didn't wake up much better in the mornings than when he spent the whole night without sleep.

Now he not only had to deal with the heaviness of lack of sleep, but with the questions. He could never think they were random dreams because he heard the same laughter every time, the same voice, the same place. He felt the same tranquility before waking up.

Azriel believed Madja would be his source of answers then.

“Your mate is looking for you,” the old woman answered him, one sunny day in Velaris when he chased her through her tent hoping she would answer his one question. That stopped him abruptly on his feet, his body from the abdomen upward leaning forward a bit from the suddenness of the movement.

“Mate?”

Madja barely hissed in response, a sound of affirmation that would haunt Azriel for several days afterward.

“How is that possible?”

“What?”

Madja was turning her back to him, her small body hunched over as she inspected the medicinal plants she kept for sale. Azriel watched them along with her, his mind moving through the threads of thoughts, between every memory of his dreams and every memory…of her.

“How can she do that?”

Azriel heard Madja sigh and the sound of metal followed as she dropped the gray watering can she had kept for years into place. Azriel could still remember the first time it had been seen, shiny and pompous in the Velaris sunlight. Madja's brown eyes roamed over his face and Azriel hadn't felt this way since the time when Rhys's mom had looked at him with loving motherly eyes.

“Don't ask me how the bond works, Shadowsinger. The Cauldron knows how it does things.”

Azriel could sleep less after that. Madja had left him with more questions than answers. And, on that note, Azriel began to fly over Velaris more often. For some reason, he felt she was close. The bond hadn't snapped into place yet, but he knew that the time was near when that would happen. He didn't even know if it had snapped for her yet, all he knew was that he had a mate over there, too far away from him, and too scared for him to stand idly by.

Eventually, Azriel had to talk to Rhysand. Rhys, his high lord, his best friend, his brother. Probably the only person in the Inner Circle who could fully understand how he felt at those moments. Because Azriel felt he was going to lose his mind if he didn't find his mate and end whatever suffering she was going through. The uncertainty was eating him alive and the hours of hopelessness and fear that were going on inside him, around that emptiness in his chest, did not ease things at all. If he felt this way from the comfort of his home, he didn't want to imagine what she was going through.

Rhysand agreed to allow him more outings to enlarge the perimeter of his search, but the passing days proved his effort fruitless.

“Everything okay, brother?”

Cassian had met his mate. Nesta, Feyre's sister. Azriel was very happy for him, very happy that his brothers had found their life mates and that he could realize the good they brought into their lives. But there was a huge shadow that haunted him, beyond the darkness he carried with him, and it had much to do with the guilt of not being able to find and deliver his mate from suffering. He no longer knew how much time had passed. His shadows stirred restlessly every day, with every memory, with every gale.

Azriel sighed when he felt Cassian's hand on his left shoulder, as they both stood watching Velaris from the top of a mountain.

“I don't know what to do anymore, Cassian,” Azriel let out, his shoulders slumping under the pressure and stress.

He usually didn't talk about the subject of his mate with his brothers, not as often as someone would think to be so close. It was something Azriel held close to his heart and wanted to resolve on his own, but so many failures were beginning to weigh him down.

Cassian patted his shoulder and then gave it a squeeze, trying to silently comfort him, though he knew that would do little to soothe the clamor in his soul. Because, though the bond hadn't snapped for Azriel, he could well believe that he had had it tugging at his chest in an unfamiliar direction for months now. Even if he didn't feel the bond, the mere acknowledgement of its existence was agony, especially when it didn't help him find his mate.

Cassian sighed beside him, letting a few seconds pass in silence before speaking again, his gaze fixed on Velaris' expanse and his heart shrinking at the visible suffering on his brother's face.

“Rhysand is traveling to the camp, will you accompany us?”

Azriel lately had little desire for anything other than touring Velaris and the surrounding area of the Court of Nightmares looking for his mate, but this time he decided to accept. For some reason, Azriel decided to accompany them.

The Night had been feuding with the Summer for a couple of years. Tarquin and Rhysand… were not on the best of terms. The last time Feyre had traveled to the Summer, pregnant with Nyx, Tarquin and his army had held her captive because of a misunderstanding in the information they had obtained from the Spring Court and the Mortal Lands. Rhysand almost destroyed the entire Summer Court with his bare hands if not for Cassian and Azriel, who were able to broker a deal between the two as mediators. It was a very tense time at the beginning.

Mind you, Rhysand did not leave without letting Tarquin know that it would be years before they would return to the same trade, diplomatic and friendly relations as before, if they could ever speak of forgiveness. Azriel remembered how the only person from the Night Court who could cross Tarquin's lands, for a time, was Mor. They were all warned and the meetings of the high lords were suspended, at least with respect to attendance.

For that reason, Rhysand became extremely wary of anyone connected with the Summer Court and for him, being the high lord, it was not too much work to know who wandered near his lands. They had already captured a handful of Summer Court spies in recent years and held them captive in camp with the Ilyrian soldiers.

Of course, the Night Court was much more careful with their spying, having Shadowsinger himself on their side. Azriel had visited the Summer Court a couple of times by stealth, handing Rhysand reports and any strategic breakthroughs he could decipher.

There was one, however, that they could not foresee. Someone Azriel never knew was coming out of the Summer Court. It had been a couple of years since then and it seemed the Ilyrians had been unable to break the spy's stone will.

“Are you going all the way to the mountain?” Rhysand had stopped in front of Azriel as soon as his feet touched the grassy ground, a few feet from the entrance to the camp. His eyes flicked briefly to the bustle behind his high lord, his shoulders tensing unconsciously as he took slow steps towards Rhysand with his hands in the pockets of his tunic and his wings tucked neatly behind his back. Cassian landed behind him, kicking up a layer of wet grass and mud that soiled his boots.

“Argh.”

“I think I'll be at a distance this time.”

Rhysand nodded, with no intention of convincing Azriel to accompany him to give the imprisoned spies of the Summer a death scare.

“I hope the screams are worth this mudslinging,” Cassian spoke up, moving closer to his two friends, forming a small circle. Rhysand barely gave him a glance before turning on his heels and beginning to make his way to the entrance of the camp, where some of the soldiers were clustered to see the high lord. “You're going to be in the bay?”

“Yes,” Azriel walked alongside Cassian, scowling at the entrance through which Rhysand had just crossed, the Ilyrian soldiers freezing in front of their high lord. “I'll watch from afar. Right now I don't have the stomach for anything.”

“I understand, brother,” Cassian squeezed his shoulder again amicably, sending him a tight-lipped look. Cassian was quite good with words, despite many labeling him as insensitive for being Ilyrian, but he knew Azriel well enough to know when he wanted to talk about something and when he preferred not to. “See you then.”

Cassian followed in Rhysand's footsteps, approaching in long strides, while Azriel paused watching his companions disappear into the distance.

Sighing, the knot in his chest tightened. It was so strange to have a void that could feel so many things. Azriel often wondered how it was possible that he still didn't feel the bond, when his emotions had expanded out of his head and there was no longer a feeling he didn't sense inside his bones.

Flapping his wings to take flight, Azriel set off towards the bay, close to the cliff where Rhysand planned to take the Summer Court spies. He was a few yards away, close enough to make out figures, but not too far away that he couldn't hear the screams.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, damp despite the early rising sun, his shadows began to stir around him, restless. They must've sensed his nervousness, the anxiety that ran through his chest like electric currents to his fingertips, causing him to spasm and break out in a cold sweat. Azriel could barely see them moving around him, separating from his body and stirring on the ground just a few centimeters before turning back.

At the top of the cliff he could already make out the figures of Rhysand and Cassian, walking menacingly towards the inmates, leaving them no choice but to keep walking backwards until they fell into the void, where Cassian would then land them, one by one. Azriel could hear them if he wanted to, but his mind and his shadows kept him a bit distracted.

He barely made out the first screams and the sound of Cassian's wings when his shadows began to whisper, much more restless.

Close.

Help.

Fear.

Help.

Azriel raised his head and his eyes stopped just short of Rhysand's figure in front of about three spies. At that moment, Azriel's shadows took off, moving at great speed across the grass and stones, with the Shadowsinger unable to do anything to stop them, though he tried. His confused gaze swept over the small figures on the cliff, with such speed that his head was beginning to ache, but he couldn't recognize anything.

He was about to fly in the direction his shadows had gone, when a strange, overwhelming sensation, somewhere between irrational fear and deep sadness, sent his back to the ground moving across his chest, as one of the figures slipped and fell into the void. Azriel felt all the air stolen from his lungs, opening his mouth to try to catch his breath, as those sensations coursed through his entire body and settled in his chest, taking strong root as if they belonged there. They were so overwhelming that they caused him physical pain. The ache he must've been feeling for months.

The bond.

The few remaining shadows beside him whispered endlessly.

Help.

Azriel raised his head, breathing hard. He felt his chest split open, as if with great force they were breaking his sternum to pull out his heart. It was such an overwhelming and painful sensation that, but for his strong will, he would surely have lost consciousness.

Help.

Mate.

Azriel thought afterwards that he had never moved so fast or with such force as that moment, when he realized what was happening. The adrenaline that coursed through his body, even feeling electric currents run through him from head to toe from the precise moment he felt the bond, didn't allow him to think too much about how the air hurt his eyes because he already knew exactly where he had to go. He had spent so much time flying without direction, walking the wrong paths and searching in empty places. At that moment, when he had a reason and a direction, Azriel couldn't think of anything else. He didn't want to.

He could only look at the figure falling off the cliff from the moment he raised his head. He could only head blindly towards it. The overwhelming fear that threw him backwards was the fear she felt as under her feet she felt the void, her hands moving forward trying to hold on to something that would allow her to live.

Azriel felt like he was about to die with her.

He met Cassian halfway from afar, who seemed to be about to fly in her direction to catch her when he ran into his friend, but Azriel moved too quickly and with anticipation without losing sight of his mate. The chill that ran through his body could've paralyzed him with fear, but how could he stand by and do nothing when his mate was falling to her undisputed death.

He thought he heard Rhysand's scream. Surely it was so, but in his mind there hovered only the thought that he must reach her, he must get there in time. Her hands were outstretched and Azriel stretched out his hands, hoping that would help him move faster.

Mind blank, Azriel felt like he had just pulled his head out of the water, his chest opening in an unfamiliar thrill as his body felt the warmth of his mate's body crashing against him and his arms wrapped around her in a promise to never let go again. His wings wrapped around her immediately after his arms, impacting a few seconds later against the muddy ground.

He was too close to not catch her. The thought left him breathless.

For a moment, he only heard his and her labored breathing, with the whistling of the wind through the trees and the movement of the water of a stream a few feet away. For a moment, Azriel went completely blank. Whether he was there or dreaming, he didn't know.

His hands clamped tightly around her arms, encircling her entire back, feeling the reality of what had happened sink in on him bit by bit. Fear gripped him once more then, considering that there was a chance he hadn't been there to stop that. To prevent it.

He didn't want to move. Still adrenaline coursed through his body and he was so alert that he could clearly hear the voices of his friends in the distance. Seconds later, when he heard their wings, he finally moved.

Azriel met your eyes and with that look alone he knew you had felt the bond as well.

“I'm sorry,” was all Azriel could think of, his eyes crystallizing, voice breaking. “I'm so sorry.”

You were transfixed. Azriel felt you looking at him with fear and that motivated him to move away from your body, but you gripped his arms tightly to hold him in place.

Azriel felt a great heaviness in his chest as he examined your face and what he saw did not please him at all. Guilt swelled on his shoulders, a great weight that ascended with each passing second and he could hardly imagine all that you had had to go through in that camp. You were right under his nose and he couldn't find you. What kind of a partner was he to let all that happen?

When he heard the footsteps of his friends, his shoulders tensed. But it didn't go unnoticed the way you also became aware of their presence and let go of his arms, rushing to hug yourself as you moved to sit behind Azriel. scared. Still breathing rapidly, Azriel sent a warning look. Cassian and Rhysand stopped a short distance away, noticing the obvious hostility emanating from their friend's body, but Rhysand just stopped for a second.

“Azriel, what the fuck?”

Rhysand was so angry that he seemed to have a little red tinge over his face. Good, he was angry, maybe then Azriel wouldn't feel so bad about breaking his face.

“Rhys,” Cassian frowned, quickly picking up on the tense and hostile atmosphere around him. He grabbed the arm of his high lord, who jerked angrily and turned his gaze back to the Shadowsinger.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you aware of what you just fucking did?”

“Rhysand,” Cassian stopped his high lord, raising his voice and holding his arm tightly this time.

Rhysand turned to look at him with a frown and it seemed that, through his mind, Cassian spoke to him. The next time Rhysand looked back at him, his expression was unclenching, but Azriel stood stone-faced in front of you, his hands clasped at his sides and ready to face anything.

“No way,” was all Rhysand muttered, moving to run his hands through his hair.

Azriel felt one of your hands on his back, his senses splitting in half to try and attend to you as he kept an eye on his brothers on the other side. He moved his head to look at you, your frightened expression trying to hide you from Cassian's curious eyes.

“Is this real?”

Azriel felt his heart crumple. Tears welled behind his eyes and burning hurted the back of his throat. He wanted to say so many things, apologize for a million other things, but in that moment he only responded, moving to squeeze your hand:

“It's real.”

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel x you #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #rhysand #cassian #the cliff

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 6 months

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“I’m a big fan” || Tom Blyth x singer!reader

GIFs by me :)

Summary: in which after Tom reveals that he is a big fan of you, especially after you’re a part of soundtrack of tbosas, you and Tom are caught being awfully close to each other a few weeks after.

Warnings: fem!reader

Wc: 643

A/n: Sorry I haven't uploaded a tom blyth x singer!reader fic in abit! I've got another one sitting in my drafts that I need to finish :)

Tom Blyth x singer!reader au masterlist

divider by @pommecita

“Tom and Hunter on…. Y/n Abrams’ Hunger Games single” “So good. It's so good,” Tom says immediately. Hunter squeals, throwing her hands up in the air.

"I love Y/n Abrams," Hunter fangirls, a huge smile plastered on her face. "Yeah, I'm a big fan of her honestly. I hope I get to meet her someday," Tom has never mentioned you on the internet before.

Truthfully, he has always been a fan of your music since you first released your first album and has stayed a loyal fan. He would be lying if he said he didn't have a crush on you, I mean who wouldn't, you are Y/n Abrams.

So when he saw your post on instagram announcing that you were going to be a part of tbosas soundtrack with 'Can't catch me now' Tom was absolutely fangirling

Of course you were familiar with Tom but the two of you have yet to meet. You remember seeing him on screen for the first time when your sister had Billy the Kid playing on your tv at home, and you were hooked.

You understood why the girlies were head over heels for Tom, he was crazy attractive, a gentleman, and an absolute sweetheart. When you saw the interview that mentioned him, you were dying to meet him as well.

Little did he know that you would be attending the LA premiere for the tbosas and would see him for sure. “Y/n, any one in particular your excited to see today?” A woman asks as she directs her mic at you.

“Uh- yeah actually, I’m excited to finally meet Tom!” You couldn’t help but feel the corners of your mouth rise. “Really? Well I interviewed just a couple moments ago and he said the same with you!” Your eyes slightly widen as your eyes look around.

“I think he’s over there,” The woman points to the other side as you thank her before making your way that way. You were whisked into another interview before you could go any further.

As you were talking, you felt a hand on your shoulder as you jump. “Shit-“ “Sorry-“ You turn your head and was pleasantly surprised seeing those pair of blue eyes stare straight back at you. "Tom!" Your smile widens as you grip his biceps, his hands politely gripping your waist.

"Y/n! Finally we meet!" He chuckles as you could feel the rumble coming from his chest. "It's so lovely to meet you," You pull him in for a hug, all the while the camera still focused on the two of you. All though the two of you just met, you felt so comfortable around him, and he felt the exact same way.

"I'm such a big fan, Y/n," He says against the side of your head, his hand rubbing your back before you pull back. "Oh stop, I'm such a big fan of you too, Tom!" You exclaim before you remember you were still mid interview. "Oh! I'm so sorry," You sheepishly smile at the girl who laughed.

"Sorry, It's my fault for interrupting you. I'll see you soon?" Tom butts in, his arm around your shoulder as he pulls you into his chest. It didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable the way the two of you interacted with each other, it was more natural and familiar.

"Yeah of course, I'll see you then," You look up at him, you nearly stopped breathing at how close he was to you. "Bye, darling," He bids you goodbye as you watch his tall figure leaving. "No way the two of you met just then," The young woman asked, shock evident in her tone.

A breathy laugh escapes your lips, "Yep, it feel's like I've known him my entire life!" "It looked like it!" The woman exclaims as the two of you laugh.

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pomefioredove · 1 month

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Hiya! Do you think you could write something romantic and fluffy with Vil? I love him!

hi anon of course! I am so unwell about this man

summary: being friends with vil schoenheit has its perks type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, FLUFFY, mentions of food, friends to lovers huhuhu, maybe a tiny bit suggestive but also not really? lap-sitting and kissing

Someone should write a guide on how to be friends with Vil Schoenheit.

It did not come as naturally to you as you would have hoped. There were times when he felt like a star in your presence, not the actor kind, but the heavenly body.

Bright, and burning, and millions of miles away. Even as he sat directly across from you.

"You're not eating," he remarks. The comment is not degrading, though it is tinged with curiosity. "Is it bad?"

You haven't even sampled the meal yet- something fancy and expensive that you likely couldn't pronounce. He'd ordered it for you.

"It's okay," you lie.

He either buys your excuse, or ignores it. Either way, he reaches across the gossamer table cloth and switches your plates without asking.

Vil Schoenheit Friendship Survival Manual, rule number one: always assume his judgment is correct, until proven otherwise.

You look down at the plate- some kind of vegetable dish. He urges you on with a nod, lilac eyes fixed firmly on your pleasantly surprised reaction when you take a bite.

Rule number two: his judgment is always correct.

"Better?" he asks, not bothering to finish your food. He'll likely get something else later. "You really shouldn't skip meals. If you were feeling unwell, you should have said so. I would've ordered something lighter for you."

"Sorry. Didn't think of it," you say, taking another bite of his meal, if only to appease him.

You're hesitant to mention that the heavy feeling in your chest wasn't from illness, and so you say nothing more.

"No need to apologize. Here,"

Vil delicately reaches across the table and dabs at the corner of your mouth with his napkin. You hate how light-headed such a simple action makes you feel.

"Better. And don't worry about smudging anything, I have a few new products I'd like to try out on you later,"

Rule number three: always accept his gifts.

"Thanks," you murmur.

You were starting to feel as if you really were ill, the way your entire body warmed in his presence. Vil brought out a feverish sort of stupidity in you that made outings like this a minefield to navigate.

How painfully cliché, you thought. Hopelessly in love with someone far out of your league, with infinite options, none of which you could even hope to catch up to...

It made these evenings together pure torture.

You felt guilty for wishing he wasn't such an amazing friend. Must he insist on showering you in gifts and holding your hand every time you cross the street?

But being in his bedroom is another, dirtier realm of guilt. Vil saw you as a friend. Platonic. Someone he confided in, who he took under his wing. You were allowed to see parts of him no one else had, and yet, you can hardly pay attention to what he's saying because you can't stop thinking about the way his lips look when he speaks.

"Did you understand any of that?" he asks, bending down to your level as you sit on his bed. On his bed. And you had the mind to be thinking about doing romantic things...

Rule number four: speak when spoken to.

"No, sorry, I've just had a lot on my mind lately,"

Vil clicks his tongue and holds a hand to your forehead, feeling for temperature. "And you're sure you're not ill?"

"I'm fine! Just distracted,"

He chuckles, walking across the room to peruse his vanity. "Hm... and what sort of thoughts have got you scatterbrained today?"

You can feel your skin burning again. He could tell, couldn't he? All these weeks of coming undone every time he so much as looks your way couldn't have gone over his head... could they?

Or perhaps he was just used to people staring at him, stumbling over their words every time he spoke. Perhaps you were just another foolish fan who'd gotten to know him before falling in love.

You couldn't help but wish that there was someone or something that would just tell you what to do.

Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.

Vil sits beside you, a small, wooden box in hand.

"I'm supposed to promote these next weekend, but I'm not sure about them, yet," he says, opening the lid to reveal a plethora of lipsticks that likely cost more than your existence. "I'll need your opinion, of course."

"Right," you murmur.

"And I'd like to try them on you, as well,"

"Of course,"

"And you're alright with that?"

You nod. Ever the gentleman, always asking for permission. He's been quite generous with his products lately, giving them away to you like candy. You're almost certain he has a full list of your allergens somewhere.

Vil returns to the vanity, delicately prepping, and then applying the first shade. It's a marvelous, metallic pink, with dark red undertones that make it a regal color. It suits him, and you say as much.

"Oh, you think so? I suppose it does compliment my eyes, although I'd definitely need to pair it with something darker, else it become too overpowering..."

He clicks his tongue, and then turns to look over his shoulder at you.

"Your turn. Come sit,"

There isn't another chair at the vanity, and you take that as your cue to awkwardly stand in front of him until he tells you what to do. He chuckles, amused by some thought of his that he doesn't share aloud.

"What are you standing there for? Sit,"

You awkwardly look around the space, eyes searching for a mysteriously hidden stool, something that should have been obvious...

He smiles. "Oh, don't be shy. We've known each other long enough by now, haven't we?"

You can't think of the right thing to ask, although your thoughts are quickly cut off by the sight of him gently patting his lap.

Sevens. If there were any time to wake up, this was it.

Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.

He's not joking, of course. Vil hardly jokes. And so, you awkwardly straddle his lap, facing towards him, and allow him to get a good look at your visage.

He holds your chin firmly, studying your features as if he hasn't already seen them a thousand times before.

"Stay still,"

He's going to give you a heart attack, and there's a little quirk in his smile that tells you he knows it, too.

You wonder what your tag at the morgue will say. Death by Vil Schoenheit?

He starts with your skin, commenting on how soft it's gotten since he met you, then your eyes...

...Once he's satisfied, as he always is with his work, he turns your head so you can admire the makeup look in the mirror behind you.

"Stunning," he comments. "But you're missing something."

You look back, eyes wide. Surely, he hadn't forgotten something...? That's simply not in his nature.

He smiles at your confusion. "Remember? You promised to test these for me?"

Right. The lipstick. You nod. "Yes, but, I thought you'd already..."

"Oh, I do like the color. I'm just worried about this brand," Vil says. He looks away for a moment, almost as if to summon his courage... what a strange expression on him.

"What's wrong with the brand?"

He turns back with a small smirk. "They have a nasty reputation for smudging easily. I wouldn't want to make a fool of myself next weekend, hm?"

His cups your chin again, bringing you closer.

Rule number five: do not fall in love with him!

He tilts his head to the side. "You don't mind, do you?"

You couldn't have shaken your head any faster, even with his grip on your chin.

"Good. Now, stay still. I think this will be a good color on you, anyway,"

He pulls you in with ease, letting his lips rest on yours for a second or two, before pulling back. Short but sweet, enough to make you feel like your entire body has gone numb.

He inspects your face, humming to himself...

"Good so far," he says, bringing you closer again. "But that was too safe. I won't hold back next time. Are you ready?"

You nod. Barely anything had happened, and you're already breathless. "Ready,"

Another smile crosses his perfect face, though he doesn't give you any time to admire it before he's kissing you again, one hand still cupping your face, the other holding the back of your neck and pressing you closer.

Definitely not a very platonic kiss.

It takes him longer to pull away this time, though when he does, it gives you a perfect view of his still-pristine makeup.

"Hmm... still nothing. I'm quite impressed with this line," he says, reaching behind you and returning with the wooden box. "How do you feel?"

Dizzy. Light-headed. Warm.

"Good," you say.

Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.

Or do.

"Not too much, I hope?"

A delightful realization was beginning to come over you, one that made all you had thought about him null and void:

No one else could possibly give you a guide on Vil Schoenheit, because he writes the rules himself.

"No. That was perfect,"

"Excellent," he smiles, and flips the box open again. "Because we still have six more colors to test."

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #GAH.

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chrollohearttags · 2 months

Text

escape to paradise • e. jaeger: part one

spoiling your husband for his special day turns into a surprise, he’ll soon never forget

themes + things: musician x influencer au, slight angst at the beginning, mentions of illness and death, lots of humor and fluff, eren being a grouch about his birthday, soft but disgusting smut, equal parts porn and plot, alcohol and drug use, aphrodisiacs, consensual groping, handjob, oral sex (m. receiving), riding/reverse cowgirl, many other things

word count: 5.9K

I’m a few days late on this but honestly, it really does not matter. I’m not going to abandon another wip bc I ‘didn’t make it on time’. Besides, this site is lacking serious depth in its fics and I’m just so proud of this one. It’s going to be two parts just bc keep reading lines + anything that’s not a one liner post with ten men's names attached seems to scare the girls. Also, I feel as though I haven't written anything this lengthy or for my fav ship in a very long time so forgive me if the quality is not as great as others, I’m getting my bearings back and I hope that y’all enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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Birthdays. A momentous occasion for many..often dubbed as ‘another trip around the sun’, they find themselves grateful to be growing old in a world where it’s not guaranteed you’ll see the next day. Some choose to celebrate with extravagant parties and lavish gifts, others prefer a casual kickback with loved ones and a grocery store cake. It doesn’t matter as long as you do something to mark the occasion…however, for others …

“Yeah, just come by later. I can take a look at it after I finish up this other job—yeah yeah, for sure, dude. I got you—“

it was another day on the calendar! That sentiment rang true for the man who had been spending his past seven years holed up inside of a studio on his special day. EJ The Don, just as infamous for his anti-social, despondent behavior as he was for his amazing music, harbored absolutely no desire to be in some crowded club or party, surrounded by people who couldn’t give a shit less about him or his well-being the other three hundred sixty four days of the year. He was adamant on doing one thing and that was being left the hell alone. But even for his wife, (y/n) (l/n), who often mirrored his beliefs in terms of dealing with the public, was determined to make his day one to remember, whether anyone else was involved or not. However, the only person standing in the way of Eren’s relaxation and free time…was Eren himself! You were currently on your way to bring him some dinner you had made, in an effort to not only allow him a sabbatical but to ease the impending conversation that had been plaguing your mind onto him. You had finished up filming and editing some content in your own office not too long ago and was ready to call it a night. Sadly, the concept of rest didn’t quite register with your husband. He was a workaholic, through and through..hence why you were about to offer him a proposal and hoped that he didn’t refuse. Shifting the warm plate of homemade mashed potatoes, steak and lots of steamed broccoli into your opposite hand, you’d leave two faint knocks against the door.

“Can I come in?…”

the question seemed to startle the musician a bit as you heard him shuffling around and trying to lower the volume on his phone. He’d stutter a bit and ask that you give him just a minute. The whole thing seemed rather suspicious and make no mistake, you trusted your husband wholeheartedly but he was by the far, the most horrible liar you’ve ever met! A majority of women would jump to the conclusion of infidelity if placed into this exact scenario. They’d see it as a blatant phone call to a mistress or something related…that he had something to hide. But you? That was the furthest thing from your mind. It honestly was never even a worry of yours. He constantly reminded you of the fact that he was blessed enough to even bag you, he damn sure wasn’t going to test his luck and lose you by stepping outside of marriage and for someone like him, cheating took entirely too much work! Instead, you knew exactly what was going on and although, the severity was nowhere near that of another woman on his line, you were still angry nonetheless…finally, he’d give you permission to enter and once he did, you were met with that very toothy, shit-eating grin that he loved to feed you, along with a nervous cackle when he was doing something wrong. You could read his ass like a book!..

“H-hey princess. Don’t you look beautiful tonight—“

standing before him in an oversized t-shirt with a pair of shorts and a silk bonnet atop your head, (y/n) placed a hand on your hip whilst brandishing his food in the other. He could immediately sense the trouble he was in and decided to face you fully; spinning his chair around. He had no other option that to face the scolding that awaited him.

“Don’t ‘hey, princess’ me, Eren Michael. You know good and damn well you shouldn’t be up here this late. It’s almost midnight, you haven’t eaten anything since this morning and I heard your lil’ phone call. You just accepted another job, didn’t you..didn't you?!”

the reaction may have seemed a bit drastic and maybe you were being dramatic about the whole situation but for valid reason! Truth be told, he had no reason to be working so late into the night…his major projects and songs were completed for the time being so he could afford a break. Secondly, he shouldn’t have even been accepting outside work…especially considering what had transpired less than three weeks ago. He didn’t have a leg to stand on, that much was apparent and the last thing he wanted to do was go tit for tat with you at the moment. That was unless he wanted a tongue lashing out of this world and to be sleeping in the guest room for the next month. He wasn’t going to risk it but in true Eren fashion, he had to make an argument somehow..

“So what if I did? Babe, it’s just a small favor..it’ll take me less than an hour to do this and then I’m seated for the rest of the weekend. I can’t just not work..shit, still got bills to pay.”

nonchalantly declaring as he turned back to his computer, clicking away at the keys. Meanwhile, you’d take a seat next to him and place his food down also. Your intention was to never halt Eren from making his money or working. The two of you agreed that neither of you would ever stand in the way of one another’s careers or financial opportunities. They were something each of you had agreed upon that would remain sacred. However, when said ‘financial opportunities’ had caused quite a commotion in the household and it wasn’t just some minor incident, it was one that quite literally nearly turned your world upside down. All in a matter of minutes…

“...and what’s more important? Work or your own health?..because you seem to value it a lot more.. ” as you spoke the words into the air, you’d begin to choke up also. It was then that you’d replay the events from earlier in the month that made you nearly lose all control and every shred of your sanity..

flashback: two weeks ago…

“..911, what’s your emergency?”

“Yes! My name is (y/n) (l/n)..address is 9432 South Pointe…”

it was a call that you never hoped to have to have to make in your life. All too well had you known the horrors of having to cart a loved one off to the hospital via an ambulance after a terrible health scare and you never wanted to experience that again. But alas, here you were… frantically pacing the kitchen floor of your three story home, clutching your phone as you spoke with operators to dish out the reason for your call. (Y/N) had just returned from your routine morning run with you and Eren’s two dogs. It was something you’d do every single day as part of your workout regime. Not to mention, it gave you quality time with your fur babies. It was also a ritual that Eren would join you in and you guys would circle the spacey area; being as if you had no neighbors, with leashes in one hand as you jogged alongside one another. For one reason or another, Eren decided to hang back, saying that he was going to pass on the run. But would instead, have breakfast ready for you two once you got back. You didn’t think much into it, considering the fact that he had been working late into the night and more than likely needed some extra rest. However, you couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion gnawing away at your conscience.

‘I’m fine, princess. You go ahead, just be careful, okay?’

you guys agreed it’d be best to shorten your route whilst you were alone. Although, any would be assailants, hoping for an easy target would not only be met with the bloodthirsty wrath of two very protective pit bulls, that would tear them from limb to limb…but a woman who loved to fight and could do so very well. Not to mention, you never left home without some form of protection on your persons. Needless to say, you didn’t have any reservations about going out with your lonesome. Little did you know though…the true threat was waiting back home. Because it wasn’t a full ten minutes into your run did both Chino and Chanel begin alerting back to the house..they refused to go any further and instead, tugged at their leashes to go back. You were confused but your babies never led you astray.

“What’s wrong y’all? Do y’all wanna eat—“

That’s when you made the discovery…an unconscious Eren, lying on the kitchen floor! He was out cold, no signs of a break in, struggle or even a crime at all. It was odd. He was clutching his phone and when you turned it over, it was set to call you. You had not the slightest idea what had happened but the only thing you were concerned with was getting him the proper help. After answering a series of questions to the best of your knowledge, the kind and very helpful dispatcher informed you that an ambulance was on its way along with a police car, just in case. They arrived in only minutes and although that was something you certainly wasn’t used to in your early life, you were thankful. When they got there, they checked him over and by the grace of the heavens alone, he still had a very strong pulse but he was out cold. Unresponsive by sound but would faintly squeeze fingers..it was one of the better scenarios but still frightening nonetheless. The cops asked if anything suspicious happened and you told them that you’d only gone for a walk when your dogs kept pulling you back and that’s when you saw your husband. They determined that there was nothing criminal taking place and soon, left without incident. Only sending well wishes to Eren.

but now, you were tasked with trying to figure out what had happened to Eren! Once they loaded him up; still dressed in his sweats and no shirt, house slippers on and his hair down, you’d be right by his side in the back of the rescue. Clutching his hand, you clung to him as they checked all the necessary things and started IV’s. His vitals were a little concerning to say the least. An elevated heart rate, a spike in body temperature and what seemed to be cold sweats. They asked about any drug use, drinking…anything of the sort. You had only known Eren to smoke weed and have the occasional drink but nothing crazy. But it wasn’t until you arrived at the hospital, got checked in and a plethora of tests were conducted, would you truly know the extent of his condition and what you heard shocked you…

“Vaso…what?” “Vasovagal syncope..in other words, he’s collapsed from severe exhaustion and stress and is currently comatose. The good news is, he’s still mentally responsive. Right now, he’s just in a deep slumber. This is one of the more severe cases so he may be out for a few days. But as long as there’s no significant drop in vitals or brain activity, he should be fine.”

the doctor overseeing Eren’s care was rather helpful but seemed so nonchalant about something that had rattled you to your core. Your sweet, beloved husband was lying here unconscious and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it! You’d alert his mom, friends and you guys’ bosses. Needless to say, it wasn’t long before gifts and well wishes, along with media attention began to pour in. It was overwhelming to say the least…you rarely left his side for those three days. Barely even long enough to eat, shower and grab a change of clothes. When he finally came to, that breath that had remained hitched in your throat had finally released. You were terrified of what the alternative could have been so you were thanking God that he was okay. “Eren! Oh my God..” immediately bursting into tears as you flung your arms around him and sobbed. You were so relieved but so damn scared…how could he scare you like that?!

“Aw, princess. I’m sorry..I didn’t mean to worry you, baby. I’m fine..”

“Well you sure have a hell of a way of showing it. I’m so mad at you..don’t you ever do that stupid shit ever again!…”

Which was a very understandable reaction but your tears overshadowed that. The reality was that he was not close to being anything of the sort. His condition was a lot more urgent than before. As this wasn’t the first time he’d collapsed from exhaustion. Long nights in a studio to wild performances and dangerous habits to boot. So many moving elements went into being the rap sensation that everyone knew and loved but they only got the finished product and not the hard, strenuous work it took to get there. This industry was a machine and each artist, creative or talent that entered was a mere cog on the wheel. It was brutal, disgusting and once it was done with you, it all but possessed the power to spit you out when it was done. So naturally, you weren’t so apt to let him follow the same path once he recovered. The pain you felt whilst seated next to him, hearing machines beep as they monitored his unconscious body and fed him necessary sustenance…it was overwhelming. So you made a vow right then and there, that you wouldn’t allow him to work himself into an early grave. A promise to both him and yourself that you’d take more time to enjoy the fruits of your labor..before it was too late.

end flashback

“Look, I’m not tryna’ tell you what to do but I’m just worried. You scared the hell out of me, Eren..I don’t want to come in here and find you like that again. What if next time it’s too late?…”

he could sense the imminent fear in your eyes and the sadness spread across your face. In truth, Eren had never had to think about the consequences of his actions and another person’s feelings towards them. It would explain his very careless actions and reckless behavior. He’d stay in this room for hours and no one would check in on him, other than housekeeping. He could drink until his liver corroded and no one batted an eyelash. He was free to do as he pleased but now, he had you..and there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d let him continue down this destructive path. You loved him far too much for that..by this time, he had thanked you and snatched up his dinner. He always loved your cooking far more than any private chef or restaurant. The fact that you took time out of your own busy schedule to make sure he was eating and taken care of was something that he’d always be appreciative of. Setting it down, Eren would swallow his bite and wipe his mouth before rolling his chair towards you.

“..there won’t be a next time, I promise. Listen, I’m sorry, princess. I know I’ve been moving a lil’ careless lately. But I won’t keep putting you or myself through that. After this, I’m taking a break. No more projects, no more studio sessions…just me and you.”

which was the perfect segway into why you’d come in here to begin with. See, he wasn’t the only one who had been grinding to get what he wanted. Not only was Eren a workaholic, he’d always made it his mission to spoil you rotten. In his eyes, he was the provider so he had to make sure you were kept in every aspect of your life. He didn’t want you spending your money on anything other than leisure. As long as the two of you remained together, he was going to protect you. However, you were adamant on sharing the responsibility. Not so much in the sense of splitting expenses fifty fifty or taking on a ton of bills. But rather..you wanted to take care of him for once. Spoil your husband and make sure he knows just how much you loved him. And not a moment too soon because a rather special occasion was nearing the corner.

“Your birthday is in a few days and I was thinking…what if you and I left the country for a bit?”

the statement catching him off guard but you’d be quick to explain. “No distractions, no parties, no work. Just complete relaxation. Just like you wanted. It’s perfect timing. Do you remember what you told me in the hospital?” Flashing him a warm grin as you giggled and held his hand. That’s when the conversation replayed in his mind. Once he had awoken, Eren’s outlook had shifted. When the doctor informed him that his condition was due to stress and exhaustion, he was truly frightened as well. Realizing that his careless actions could land him in a coma or much worse if he didn’t start taking care of himself. That’s when he began to think more so along the lines of recuperation. What could he do or where could he go to truly decompress for once? That’s when he made a great suggestion in his medically induced state of mind, rambling as morphine and narcotics coursed through his veins. With tears building at his waterline and his eyes barely opening..

“I just wanna go lay up on an island somewhere…kick my feet up with your ass in my hands and watch the water. I’m so tired of all of this…deadlines and shit. I’m so tired of working for this machine, man..I just wanna escape.”

you hadn’t forgotten those words and you’d make certain that his dream came to fruition. So without his knowledge, you’d footed the bill for a very special, illustrious getaway to the islands. A week-long stay in a secluded island suite in Fiji..surrounded by beautiful blue waters, palm trees and flowers, and the best part? No other guests. You’d have an entire portion of that area to yourselves. He’d bring in his birthday just the way he had hoped for! “Yeah, but you know I can’t do that. I was just talking—“ “Well be careful what you wish for because you just might get it.” Retrieving your phone from your pocket, you’d show him the confirmation for the private flight and trip you had already so kindly taken the liberty to do. There was truthfully no excuse for him not to take a leave. It wasn’t as if the two of you had children yet or some other overwhelming responsibility to care for. You were in the primes of your lives and careers. You deserved to live as such. So before he even had the chance to attest or change your mind, you’d show him that he too deserved to be pampered.

“..so, when are we leaving?”

Immediately sending him into a toothy smirk. There was no arguing with you when you became set in your ways. You were stubborn but your heart and intentions were always pure. And for that, he truly was thankful and blessed to be able to call you his wife!

“You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

“Yeah..I know. But that’s exactly why you married me.” You’d chuckle as you stood to your feet, retrieving his plate and leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Now go pack. I’m not playing with you, sir.” “You know I like it when you tell me what to do..gets me excited.” Alluding to something a little more salacious than your previous discussion, prompting you to smack your lips and playfully slap at him. “Bye! And bring your ass to bed, please.”

This trip was certainly going to be one to remember!

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(biiiig long time skip bc I am not writing all of that and this fic is so long already!)

Matangi Private Islands, Fiji: two days later, March 29th…

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It was just barely sunrise when the two of you made landfall on the coasts of the secluded islands. All courtesy of a first class, private flight from the comfort of his jet. It was just one of the many amenities that were afforded with this lifestyle. Something that he’d have to take part in more often. Crystalline blue waters waved across the shoreline, palm trees and colorful flowers flowing in the breeze and birds chirped in the far off distance. Currently, you were getting checked into your suite and what awaited you guys was an oasis like neither of you had ever seen… “Isn’t it beautiful?! Babe, look at this..it’s so big.” Sunshine beamed over the pathway, headed to the designated suite. A huge hut-style home from the exterior, equipped with three rooms, two baths and tons of amenities on the inside. Three wooden bridges connected to you to all sides of the island, allowing you access to the waters, the pool and the front gate. There was a very spacious living area and kitchen, accompanied by a private chef who’d prepare you all whatever you desired. The most picturesque bathrooms you’ve ever seen and sleek, modern decorations. But perhaps, by far the most impressive perk was the fact that there was no one on this island for at least three miles except the staff. You were in complete solitude, just as he wanted. It was a gift that had come not a moment too soon. Seeing as how the whole reason for this little adventure was less than twenty four hours away..

“Princess, this is really nice. I mean..really nice. But was this necessary? I mean, how much did this cost?”

Scraping slowly behind you in his Balenciaga slides, black sweats from the same brand and a tank top..Eren seemed rather fussy for someone who was supposed to be on vacation. You had all but expected this..it was no surprise that he was going to put up a fight about not being able to be tied to that damn desk, but you paying his way for this ordeal! However, you weren’t much in the mood to hear him complaining because his stubbornness was no match for your own and when you wanted your way, best believe that’s what damn well was going to happen. Turning to him, sporting your skin tight sundress..a fluorescent lime green that complimented your dark complexion perfectly..and had him rather happy, you’d immediately turn to face him and place his cheeks between your palms, squishing his face. Standing on your tiptoes to meet his gaze.

“That, my sweet love..is not important. What is important is that you have a good time...and as long as that happens. Nothing else matters to me.” Which was about the most ideal answer he was going to get. Releasing a heavy sigh, it took him no time at all to soften..he couldn’t argue when he saw that smile on your pretty face. What was the harm in allowing you to take the reins for once and he followed? Most importantly, what could it hurt to be the one who was getting spoiled this time around? Besides, he had full faith that you’d make this trip..one he’d soon never forget! “Alright. Fine, angel. I trust you and I love you…thank you for this. I really appreciate it.” “Of course…” bending down to cup your own cheeks and plant a gentle yet deep kiss on your lips. Giving a rather warm and suggestive glare into your eyes. One that neither of you wanted to pull away from. It had been a while since you guys had been able to have quality alone time like this. It felt good to not be interrupted by texts of practice or meetings. Or someone knocking on the door, saying that a guest had arrived. It was blissful and there wasn’t anyone around to stop whatever was about to transpire. For right now, you’d allow your bodies to do the talking. Soon, those strong hands of his that once rested on your cheeks readjusted and moved to the back of your head to fully entrap you into a more sensual peck. Releasing deep breaths, you’d both smack and whimper against one another’s lips as you began to make out. Eventually, those hands found home around your throat and yours trailed up his chest. You hadn’t noticed much until now but your man had been working out quite a bit. Since his hospital scare, he’d made somewhat of an effort at better living. His newly chiseled physique wasn’t lost on you..nor was the way he seemed to be craving intimacy. A lack of physical touch and alone time had made him quite needy for you..in more ways than one.

“I know it’s a lil’ early and all but…I think I wanna unwrap my gift right now.”

“Mmm..is that right?”

giggling against his lips as your faces met with only a hair breadth of distance between you. The tension was looming and rather thick. A single look at all of you and it wouldn’t be hard to tell just how badly you needed to release some stress. Tugging at his bottom lip between your teeth, you’d continue making out as you shuffled towards the kitchen counter, where he’d waste no time, setting you on top of it. Eren had you all to himself without a single soul around to intervene in your affairs. So best believe, he was going to enjoy himself! Moving his lips from your jawline to your throat, your husband marked the skin with very soft kisses and gentle suckles that would leave faint hickies. Meanwhile, his hands gilded delicately down your body. Even making a couple stops to smack and squeeze on that plump ass. Until they found home on your breasts..where he’d very carefully grope. Massaging those perky tits and stroking your nipples on his thumb pads. “…so fucking pretty..” He loved your reactions. The way you moaned for him. Whimpering each time he made a move and all but begged him for more.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna wait until after breakfast, babe?” Which earned the exact response you were expecting from him. Who had a ravenous appetite of his own but not for any good.

“I got something to eat right here..fuck all that..” muttering against one another’s lips as you both broke into soft giggles. He was adamant in enjoying every moment of this away time. And more so specifically, making up for all the time lost between you two, due to his busy schedule. You’d been married for the better part of a couple years and although you were madly in love with each other, it hadn’t been easy. Long nights, work events, tour dates and all the other external factors that prevented you guys from being alone…made it difficult to enjoy yourselves. It was times that you craved each other so desperately that distance or exhaustion kept you away. That your bodies practically yearned and cried out. However, they were mere afterthoughts at the moment. You could enjoy your man with no interruption and vice versa. And best believe, Eren was going to get more than his fill of you.

“Here, put your legs up and lean back for me..” his instructions followed by his hands cupping your cheek once more and marking you with more gentle pecks. Naturally, you’d do so and part your thighs wide open. Giving him quite the nice surprise in return..chewing at your lower lip and index finger, you’d watch the reaction on his face…along with the one in his shorts!

“Oh shit…ain’t even wearing any panties. You knew what you wanted, huh?” Pegging you immediately because he knew that each of you were on the same type of time. Inching closer, Eren’s fingers gradually dredged up that exposed slit. “Can you blame me? I missed you..” giving him that irresistible pout and doe eyes that always drive him insane. Whilst one hand worked you over; grinding yourself against his digits, his other kept gently caressing your face and eventually, you’d pop his thumb into your mouth and suckle on the tip. It was enough to make him put you through this damn marble top right now! “Yeah?..I missed you more, princess. Missed all of this..” subtly grunting in the deep tone of his as he slipped a finger inside of you and heard the pop that followed. “This shit’s so fucking tight, princess..and wet. This all me?” “Of course..been thinking about you all week. How bad I needed you..” confessing to him in a whiny tone whilst rubbing his chiseled chest. Among other things, including how you were going to spend the entire week fucking on him..how you spent your time away on tour, playing with yourself to his voice messages and own salacious videos he’d sent. Jerking himself off behind the camera as he professed his love and desire for you. Ending in a splatter of warm semen all over his screen as he cried out your name. And him causing you to flood your hotel sheets after plunging yourself on those dainty fingers. It was too much to bear..he had to make a move before he came in his boxers right there!

“Fuck…I need you. Need this pussy so bad, baby.” Practically desperate for you. By this time, you had begun working to free his hard cock from its confines and once you did so, he’d immediately spring into your closed palm. He’d ever so slightly fuck your fist and moan out as he continued working you over. Meanwhile, you were still vehemently making out with one another. You’d all but beg him to put it inside of you and it wasn’t a full minute later before his tip was prodding through your entrance and you both came undone. Releasing simultaneous expletives as he split you open and filled you halfway.

“Oh my gosh!… ‘s so fucking big..”

“That’s not even all of it. You can take it f’r me, can’t you?”

smirking as he wasted no time in bucking his hips forward and feeding you deep strokes. They were a little slow at first but you could feel each one. Every bump, every curve and inch of that lengthy shaft. The way it curved up into you and pressed that spot on impact..you were losing it. Placing a hand around the back of your neck to keep your head straight and your leg atop his shoulder, Eren would increase his pace and really give you what you needed! “You can take this dick for daddy, can’t you, baby?” Grunting against your lips. Smacking sounds erupting across the suite from your skin as your lower halves collided. It didn’t take long before a silky sheath of your juices were formed and coating your flesh. The two of you would last no time from all the pent up sexual frustration and emotions.

“Yes! Yes! Give it to me…right there..”

increasing his pace and you’d follow suit by stroking your clit. He was unhinged..unable to contain himself inside of you. Eren clutched your ankle and laced your calf with sweet, tender kisses as he pounded your pussy into oblivion. “Shit..you gonna come for me already, baby..you’re squeezing me so tight.” Taunting you with that high lilt in his voice, not breaking eye contact once. To say you were a trembling mess at this point was an absolute understatement..cream dripping all down his shaft and onto the countertop as your clit pulsates with each thrust. You couldn’t take another moment and the day had only begun. Less known the entire week!…but you loved it. You loved pleasing your man and giving him everything his heart and body desired. And despite how intense it felt at the moment, you craved this just as badly. You both needed this release.

“Mmmph! You fucking me so good, daddy…’s just too much..”

“Don’t tease me now…you were talking all that shit on the plane, saying you needed this dick every day…you sure you can handle it?…‘cause I’mma stretch this shit out. Tryna’ get you pregnant, baby.” The sheer thought of him breeding you gets you aroused all over again. Even if it was an empty promise in the throes of mid-lust excitement. Regardless, he’d keep pounding at a steady pace until he felt you twitching and clutching once more until you were about to come undone. That’s when he’d speed up, angling himself until that tip was poking directly at your overstimulated core. “So tell me I can have it. You know I’m selfish, princess…I always get my way.” Mocking you once more with his tongue wagging, chuckling and with a thumb on your clit. Rubbing slow circles until you were gripping the counter top. Tits swaying with the fierce bouncing of your frames. Even the tears streaming down your face couldn’t sate his desire to make you climax right now. He knew you were feeling equally as overstimulated and was ready to push you over the edge. Suddenly, your husband would lean forward and curl his face into the crook of your neck.

“Come in me, daddy!..nnngh..”

“Oh God, baby. Can I please? Can I put a baby in it?..”

panting as he bared his weight onto the countertop. His pace reached its peak and before long, you both reached the finish that you had sought after.

“ ‘rennnnn! Fuck…please..” your nails clawed deep into his back, holding him close to your chest as he pumped every last ounce of his seed into that inviting womb. Just one of many on this island excursion. He didn’t let up until he was certain that you were good and stuffed but whimpered and cried to your name the entire time. It was absolute bliss, a sensation and feeling like none other and he couldn’t wait to experience more like it.

“Kiss me…” cupping your face into his palms, Eren let your tongues clash in a heated haze…moaning and whispering ‘I love you’s’ the entire time. Never had he dreamed of starting his mornings like this. Warm weather with a chill breeze sweeping through the open windows, ocean waves crashing against the tan shorelines, palm trees swaying in a calmed motion and most importantly…giving into his desires with the love of his life . The type of view that made you never want to go back to reality!…but for right now, you’d enjoy this world, this haven…

“Oh my God, that was perfect.”

“Yes…I needed that so badly. Thank you, princess..”

“Mmm, no..thank you. So…you ready to start your vacation now?”

“I can do anything after that..got me feeling the best I have in a long time…”

and no matter where you were in the world, as long as you were together, it was paradise!

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disneyprincemuke · 5 months

Text

in the name of friendly racing * fem!driver

a simple race on their scooters flips the entire paddocks upside down

pairings: liam lawson x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver

notes: hello everyone i know i haven't posted a vr piece and it's all because i couldn't fully grasp the fact that femdriver and logan are not together in this universe but i took a break from them and yes i'm coping well, but no i will not stop tearing up about their love story k? anyway, i think this is MID compared to other crack fics i've written but i'm trying i promise

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

she holds up the scooter in one hand, the other on her hip as she leans into the tablet in liam's hands. "what's the route again?"

"are you stupid?" logan asks.

"no, do you want to not join us?" she asks quickly, lifting her head to glare at the american across her. she darts her arm out and shoves logan back. "i'll disqualify you right here, right now. you wanna spend your afternoon in your driver's room like a loser like the rest of them?"

"he sent it to the group chat, how can you still not know the route?" logan scoffs, narrowing his eyes down into a glare.

"i'm just making sure!"

"relax," liam mutters, holding a hand up in an attempt to break up the fight that he's sure would happen if he doesn't interfere. "i'll disqualify you both."

"just tell me the route," mick sighs, shaking his head. he steps forward and tilts his head to try and get a look at the screen under the scorching sun above them. "no cheating, okay?"

logan huffs. "tell that to her."

she throws her head back and rolls her eyes. "god, logan!" she winds her arm back and darts an arm out to grab logan's sweatshirt. she bundles it up into her hands and tries to yank logan towards her.

"okay!" mick cries out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from logan. he carefully, finger by finger, removes her hand from grasping his sweatshirt and pushes her back. he then guides logan two steps away. "the race hasn't even started yet!"

oscar pops his head between the girl and liam. "are you sure you should be doing this?"

"of course," liam mutters, glancing at oscar. "why are you here? i thought you didn't want anything to do with us if we went through with this?"

"yeah, but i'm curious. so i know which places to avoid - i wouldn't want to get run over by road rager over here," he gestures to her and then at logan, "and mr. beating-(y/n)-is-my-life's-mission over there."

"she can't possibly be beating me at every single thing!" logan cries, throwing his arms in the air, and pointing over at her.

"sore loser!"

"okay, so we're starting here," liam points at where they're standing. "we start at williams."

"are you guys going to the pitlane?" oscar questions.

"no, are you crazy? do you want somebody to kill us?" mick scoffs. "i'd get my scooter rights taken away from me!"

"yeah," liam agrees with a nod. he throws oscar a judgemental stare, absolutely bewildered at the thought that they would be racing at the area where literal cars could be driving out. he looks back down at the ipad. "anyway."

"we zip between the racing homes," logan mutters, tracing the map of the paddocks that they'd pulled up from the internet. "and then we make a round around the interview table and the finish line is back here. don't forget to zip through the racing homes again."

"exactly," liam nods. "everyone aware of the rules?"

"you guys had the time to come up with rules?" oscar laughs. "seriously?"

"no shortcuts," mick says, turning his head to look at the younger girl. he grabs her wrist. "have you got your watch on so we can track the route everyone takes for the race?"

"yes. i'm a fair racer, above all," she scowls, retracting her arm from mick. "and we stop for everyone who calls us, yes? especially the fans."

"easy," logan nods, a smirk stretching his lips. "suddenly i'm kind of thankful nobody really likes me."

"what? don't say that," she grunts. "i like you. we like you."

"break it up, lovebirds. we are not friends, we're competitors," liam mutters. "you guys got the glasses (y/n) stole from seb's office?"

"i didn't steal them. we're borrowing them!" she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "don't break them - seb doesn't know i took them from his office."

"oh, i'm pretty sure charles would have let you borrow his if you asked," oscar whispers. when she turns her head to glare at him, oscar lifts his arms up to surrender. "but, you know. what do i know?"

"well i'm not sponsored by rayban - my glasses aren't here yet. i get when everybody else gets them," she frowns. "and, i don't wanna bother charles. it's okay."

"so you snuck into seb's office instead."

"it's not sneaking in if the door was wide open," she laughs, rolling her eyes. "duh?"

"ah, is that why you needed me to keep a lookout in the hallway?" logan says.

"shut up. i'm going to beat you," she mutters, pointing at logan with a threatening finger.

"okay, so are we clear about the rules?" liam puts the ipad down and looks around. "we've literally tried to make it as foolproof as possible. there's no way you guys can find ways to cheat, right?" he turns to her. "right?"

"i don't know why you keep looking at me - i'm a fair racer! you should be asking mick if he's going to be honest about this one!"

"why me? isn't logan desperate to keep the paper mache cup that we made three nights ago?"

"in my defence, i still believe i should keep it even if i lose because i worked on it the entire night. all you fuckers did was play overcooked and scream at each other in mick's hotel room."

"okay, shut up and race," oscar mutters, flailing his arms in the air to dismiss their huddle. "are you guys ready? can i start the race for you?"

"for someone who doesn't want to be a part of this, you sure are pushy," she mutters, turning on her heel to hop onto her scooter. "are we ready? apple watches and rayban glasses on?"

she takes the sunglasses that have been resting on the collar of her blouse and puts it on. she turns to her left and points at logan. "i'm gonna crush you."

logan pushes the sunglasses up his nose, looking ahead and doesn't spare her another glance. "sure."

"okay, okay," oscar cheers, clapping his hands. he reaches into his back pocket and reveals a red handkerchief. "turned your scooters on? everybody got their smart watches and smart glasses on?"

"start the race, cunt!"

oscar's lip twitches. "anyway. be safe, you guys. we have a race this weekend."

"i don't," mick smiles. "stay safe, though."

"start the race before i do it myself, bitch!"

"liam, shut the fuck up!" she shrieks, stepping off her scooter momentarily to whack him on the arm.

"god!" liam screams, his arm darting out to whack her as a response. "the race is going to start and you're not going to-"

"go!" oscar shouts, waving the handkerchief into the air. he darts to the side to get out of their way with a giggle.

almost immediately, logan and mick have already pulled back their handles, darting away from the williams racing home. she shrieks and shoves liam, causing him to lose his balance slightly, hops onto her scooter and drives away.

"oh, liam!" a deep voice calls. "i've been looking for you everywhere!"

"fuck's sake," liam sighs, shaking his head as he turns to see christian walking up to him. but he smiles as he is approached by the team principal. "yeah, christian?"

up ahead, she frowns to herself as she watches mick and logan racing head to head. there's no way to catch up to them on these scooters - it's simply not like an f1 car. she can only bank on the fact that someone, somehow, will stop them to give her some sort of window to pass them.

with the little number of people in the paddocks on a wednesday for the weekend proves that they should have done this early in the afternoon on friday. there could have been more obstacles and distractions for them.

if only the boys had listened to her.

she shrieks when she sees george flagging mick down ahead of the alpine racing home, forcing mick to come to slow stop. she screeches loudly when she passes mick, her hair being blown back by the wind and speed she's going at.

"thanks, george!" she screams, momentarily waving at the brit as she passes the mercedes pair. she can see logan ahead of her, speeding and manoeuvring around the crowd flawlessly by the ferrari home.

surely, somebody will recognise him and pull him to a stop, right? if nobody does, she can only hope that alex is somewhere in the paddocks wondering where his rookie has gone.

the race, objectively, is going fine for her. logan was momentarily stopped by a williams engineer. she passes them screeching, also thanking the nameless woman and waving at logan smugly as she accelerates her scooter.

when she does that, her eyes widen when she sees mick also passing logan. she has no idea where liam has gone, or if christian has even let him go from their conversation at the back of the paddocks.

she does get stopped, once, by susie who stops her to ask her a question. it was a simple question that she easily had the answer to and susie let her off in seconds. she excitedly presses a kiss on the older woman's cheek and quickly accelerates away, shocked that mick is suddenly riding next to her.

behind them is logan trailing shortly, and liam's conversation with christian is actually short. so behind logan is liam, held back by a couple of seconds only.

it's just that christian had overheard them whispering earlier that day about their race and he had lurked by the williams racing home to mess with his driver.

she, unfortunately, does get stopped another time, by a fan that was being brought around for a tour of the paddocks ahead of the race weekend. she grumbled under her breath when the three boys passed her: mick mimicking her shrill screech, logan passing her with his fingers in an 'L' shape, then liam simply ignoring her.

the race is short. suddenly they're all at the final stretch, now circled back at the ferrari racing home as they aim to make it to the finish line where oscar sits in a plastic chair, hunched over as he texts his girlfriend.

she screeches when she sees mick come to a stop right by the aston martin home. it's then questionable when she sees logan stop, and then liam. and suddenly she's getting flagged down by liam.

she rolls her eyes and ignores them, clearly being sore losers that she is now destined to win their little race. she goes right past them, slowing down slightly since it seems that she is the only competitor left in the race.

"(y/n)!" she hears a familiar accent. her eyes widen as she looks back, seeing sebastian with his hands on his hips, surrounded by her friends with the guiltiest expressions on their faces.

it all happens very fast. she had all intentions to slow down and go back to where they were, but she hadn't seen the rock up ahead.

if only she'd been looking ahead.

the front wheel of her scooter is caught against the stone, sending both her and the vehicle flying forward. "fuck!" she screams, her arms stretching out to try and break the fall.

"oh, my god!"

"that's going to hurt."

"are you stupid?"

"are you okay?"

she stays in her spot for a couple of seconds as she tries to digest the events of what just happened to her. one second, she had been on her scooter, the next she's knelt on the ground with her hands planted into the ground.

then it hits her: all of the pain from her fall.

she removes her hands from the ground and blinks rapidly, allowing the blood to seep from her now wounded palms. she feels it in her knees, surely scraping her favourite pair of pants when she had skidded against the floor. one of sebastian's pair of raybans is strewn not too far from her on the ground.

her scooter is ahead of her, which oscar is now bent over and pushing it upright.

she looks up, meeting logan's eyes with a hand over his mouth.

"it's not funny!"

"it's a little funny," logan shrugs before he bends down to meet her. "are you okay?"

tears immediately well in her eyes. she stretches out her hands and shows logan her injured palms. "i hurt my hands!"

"we can see that." mick is the next to kneel next to her, taking her hands into his. he moves her hands about and tries to assess her wounds. "we should get you back to your room and treat these."

"where are my glasses, you fucking- seriously, (y/n)?" she hears sebastian mutter. she lifts her head and watches sebastian pick up the pair from the ground and turn to her. "seriously? a race on the scooter i had to beg to get you?"

"it was liam's idea!" she cries, wiping her eye on the sleeve of her blouse. "he challenged me!"

"it was premeditated!" liam screams in an attempt to defend himself. "she said we would race once you got her scooter approved!"

"shut the fuck up!" she screeches, reaching out to push liam. "i told you not to tell on me!"

"okay, enough fighting," oscar sighs. he bends over and is the only one to think that she should not let her wounds be against the dirty ground for too long. "come on, let's get you all patched up."

"but my knees!" she cries, sniffling as she looks down at her scraped jeans. there's a small hole on both of her knees, the edges seeped with blood and small matching wounds on either. "i can't-"

"enough crying, drama queen," logan mutters, already hunched over and tapping his shoulders. "i'll carry you back. stop crying."

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