Lilia Vanrouge X F!reader

Cessa il vento, calma è la bufera Torna a casa il fiero partigian Sventolando la rossa sua bandiera Vittoriosi, e alfin liberi siam!

Happy Anniversary of Italy’s Liberation!

Reblog/like to kiss Nahuel at midnight ♡ Happy New Year!

Reblog In 5 seconds for good luck

Going home - Fezco x reader, platonic Ashtray x reader

This shit is sad and I wasn't really sure where it was going at the end so apologizes 0.0

Summary: After the night with Mouse you were left scared, but it wasn't fez that tried to end things..It was you.

Warnings: season 2 spoilers, drugs, cussing, mentions of sa so read with caution!

word count: 1,352

When you all got home it was quiet, Fez was concerned the house was locked up properly, Ashtray was arming the security systems and cameras, while you just sat on the couch, staring at the blank tv screen, still holding your shirt tightly to you, handprints covering your arms, most from the tall man and the other guys that had dragged you, who was asleep in the backseat, into the house. Ashtray sat in his room tiredly going through the cameras, already pissed about Faye. Fez glanced at her before kneeling in front of you "Come on mama...let's go to bed.." He whispered, unknown to you Fez was planning on killing Mouse, if it Ashtray didn't do it first, You had been coming around since Ash was four, you were like a sister to him, then became a mother figure whenever you started dating his big brother about 3 years ago.

You ignored Fez just staring ahead, your eyes welling up with tears from the thought of what you were about to do "I..I'm gonna head home fez.." Fez knew what that meant, you mother was a drunk and an addict and your dad was just trying to support your mom's addiction. "Nah...come on we not doin that tonight please y/n/n" He whipsered, Faye leaving the room to give you both privacy, going to bother Ashtray, who stood in the doorway of his room watching the two of you closely. "I..I can't...Fez I was okay with the deals...w-with the..raids w-with the fucking attempted kidnap and murder" You whispered looking at him sniffling "Something could've happened tonight fez...I don't feel safe here anymore" Your broken voice muttered avoiding eye contact. Fezco's world crashed down, you were leaving and he had nobody to blame but fucking Mouse. Fez just looked at you for a moment, tears streaming down both of your faces, and unknown to both of you Ashtray stood clutching the doorway holding back his own tears, this was about the equivalent of watching his parents separting.

Fez kissed your forehead sniffling a bit "I love you, Y/n" He mumbled letting you go, reaching for your hands "J-just don't go home.." He pleaded looking up at you "I-I can give you a ride..to...Lexi's..or uh..Maddy's?" He asked looking at you, You looked at him smiling through your tears "you're too sweet, Fez..Don't let anybody ruin that" You whispered kissing him one last time before standing up walking to the door, you hear Fez start to speak then a force crash into you "Don't go.." Ashtray whispered hugging you tightly restricting your movements, You managed to pry your arm out and rest your hand on his cheek "I'll be back to see you...I can't just forget my favorite guy" You smiled ruffling his hair, tears coming to your eyes again as you saw the boy sniffling and wipping his tears on your shirt, you shook your head knowing what he was doing "Ash.." Fez called, still in the same spot he was in, knowing if you truely wanted to go you could.

Ashtray squeezed you one last time letting go to watch what you'd do, instead of sitting back down you blew a kiss, like you did before leaving to go get food or pick something up, and left.

It took two days of silence for the brothers to finally snap, not that it was what you wanted when you left, the last thing you'd want is to ruin their bond, and it wasn't you that ruined it, it was you not being around that ruined it, the house didn't feel like a home anymore, there was only takeout and beers, Fez didn't leave the couch except to buy weed that he would smoke on the couch, and Ashtray had been over it before you even left. Neither remember what set the other one off, but it got ugly enough that you ended up being called by a strange number.

"Hello?" You answered sitting on the corner on your bike waiting for the car to pass by before you could continue your trip home, you flinched from your phone hearing a loud crash and the sound of glass breaking which put you on alert "Fuck you Ash! I did everything i could fuckin do! I can't keep her here forever!" You heard Fez scream, your anger started to boil, how dare he yell at Ashtray like that, the kid may be mature but he's still a kid "Y/n left because of you! You doin stupid shit! You knew the risk with Mouse! You took it anyways! You got to have a fuckin mom figure growing up why can't I fuckin have mine!?" You heard Ash scream, loud enough you could barely understand what he was saying, that's whenever you heard Faye's voice, almost swallowed by their screams "They're gonna kill each other" She kept repeating her breath shaking horribly "Or the cops are gonna be called" She whimpered, you could hear her sniffles, but that wasn't the thing that made you rush over, it was hearing Ashtray tell his brother that he hated him, you didn't mean to break a family up when you left, and you don't feel bad about leaving. Fezco promised to keep you safe, and somehow you ended up kidnapped forced to strip, forced into a cold shower then had your shirt ripped for not taking your clothes off imedietly, it had terrified you, even with your mom being an addict she still didn't put you in situations like that, it wouldn't even happened if Fez left you at the store like you had asked.

Peddling as hard as you could you raced to the house, you saw what appeared to be a calm house, but whenever you skidded to a stop by the front door and swung open the door it was the exact opposite, things broken everywhere, fez and Ashtray screaming in the kitchen and you could see Faye hidden in the bathroom "Hey!" You screamed slamming the door shut glaring daggers at them, both of them looked at you, smiles slowly appearing "W-why are you here?" Fez asked looking around the house now embarrassed, how long had you been here, how much have you heard? Fez started to speak again but you cut him off "Shut the fuck up" You snapped walking closer smaking Fez on the cheek and Ashtray over the side of the head "So whenever you go through a breakup you take it to fucking kill each other? huh?" You growled glaring at the both of them "Really Fez?" You snapped stepping forward standing in his face huffing "He is fucking a kid. Ashtray?" You growled doing a 360 to face the younger brother "He is your fucking brother, he is raising your ass and you will fucking resepect him or so fucking help me god" You growled "Now. You two are gonna make up. You gonna hug. Then I want Fez outside!" You screamed walking through the back door slamming it shut waiting for the older one of the two to make his way outside aswell, and about ten seconds later there he was.

"Y/n-" You cut him off staring at him "Faye called me. That's your brother, Fez....You can't- He's the last family you got, I wish I had someone who looked up to me like that, and you're gonna throw it away all because your girlfriend left for a few nights?" You snapped glaring at him, he stared at you, stuttering over his words "I-i thought chu left...like...for good" He whispered looking at you, pouting a bit as you laughed loudly "you can not get rid of me that easily, Fezzy" You giggled cupping his cheeks "I'm here for good, bubs..the other night...it scared me fez-" Now it was your turn to be cut off by Fez "Mouse ain't comin round no more. I handled that shit the night you left" He whispered cupping your cheeks "So..we good, mama?" He asked rubbing your shoulders "We're good 'mama'" You smiled teasing him by copying his nickname for you.

The VIP Booth | Vander Smut Oneshot 🫗🤎

(Gif creds: me <3)

Pairings: Husband!Vander x Wife!Reader

Pronouns: Fem!Pronouns

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI !! You WILL be blocked! 🤺

Word Count: 3.1k (whoops. got carried away with storybuilding)

Tags: Cunnilingus, Fingering, Face Fucking, Finger Sucking, Hair Pulling, Semi-Public Sexual Acts, Established Relationship, etc.

Summary: You coax your husband into eating you out in the only private area The Last Drop has to offer.

Notes: AAAA!! Idk if this idea is ANY GOOD but it came to me in a moment of delusion. The last bit was probably a little rushed, too. SORRYYYY. I’ll make it up to yall later.

Also, tell me I’m wrong when I say that Vander will go to any length to eat some pussy. Do it, cowards. I dare you. YOU KNOW JUST AS WELL AS I DO THAT THIS MAN WOULD HAPPILY DIE WITH HIS FACE IN BETWEEN A PAIR OF THIGHS.

Asks/Request fics are coming soon, as well as a few more special treats for y’all!! Enjoy, my lovelies, & stay tuned. 🤍

(I can see you, minors!! Get outta here 🤺🤺. BACK! BACK, I SAY!)

Inside the walls of The Last Drop, there was one booth unlike any other—a private, exclusive spot tucked away behind the bustling central room. It was a booth reserved for those willing to pay for top-tier service, offering a secluded escape from the usual chaos of the bar’s environment. But as co-owner of The Last Drop—and wife to the main owner—you didn’t need to fork out any cash to reserve it. Especially not on a night like this. No—tonight, luck was on your side. The booth had gone unclaimed by any paying customer.

Truthfully, the undeniably significant feature were its curtains. The enormous maroon tapestries that enveloped the entrance ensured complete privacy, shielding it from prying eyes. After all, that’s what made it the VIP booth—an oasis of solitude amidst the drunken chaos of the crowd.

With the booth left unreserved, its privacy ensuring a rare moment of seclusion, and the crowd blissfully distracted by their own drunken revelry, the opportunity was simply too perfect to pass up. You had concocted a devilish plan—one that had been simmering in your mind all night. It wasn’t just about messing with your husband—it was about messing around with him.

Your overwhelming desire for your husband was impossible to ignore on any given day, but tonight, it seemed even more intense—an insatiable hunger that gnawed at you, its cause elusive and beyond your comprehension. Whatever the reason, it gripped you with a force you couldn't obstruct, leaving you restless and consumed by pure unadulterated lust.

This, naturally, allowed your plan to unfold effortlessly, as if guided by an invisible hand, bringing it closer to fruition.

To carry out your devious plan, you had carefully cultivated the trust of one of the few individuals who worked for you and Vander. They weren’t exactly employees in the traditional sense, but rather a handful of people you kept on the fringes, offering a few coins in exchange for their occasional assistance. Their loyalty was fleeting, bought with small tokens, but it was enough to serve your purpose. Especially in a moment such as this. A seemingly crucial one—at that.

You kept things vague, framing your request as though it were purely concerning a business discussion needing to be had. You asked your employee to discreetly inform your husband that someone was calling him from behind the velvet curtains of the VIP booth. You also made it clear that the employee should mirror your discretion, avoiding any mention of your name or your connection to him.

The employee appeared curious, even somewhat uneasy, at first. That was, however, prior to you slipping a generous cash bonus their way, eliciting their cooperation without room for protest.

"Go on, please," you plead with your unsuspecting employee, your voice laced with a blend of urgency and excitement. "But remember—don’t tell him it’s me."

As the employee slips into the bustling crowd, you struggle to contain the surge of excitement building within you, all while fighting to maintain a sultry—yet composed, demeanor. You adjust your hair, breasts, and clothing, making subtle moves to enhance your allure and mystery. Every gesture is deliberate, designed to keep you as collected and captivating as possible, cultivating an air of intrigue about you as you desperately await the arrival of your beloved husband.

They fulfilled your agreement as you waited—approaching their boss and informing him that someone had entered the VIP booth, insisting on speaking with him directly.

"VIP booth? Thought nobody booked it tonight," Vander remarks, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest as he takes a moment to process the information. Normally, you were the one who handled the VIP booth, and he’d have gladly passed this task off to you—if the employee hadn’t mentioned that the VIP “customer” specifically requested Vander. Looks like he’d have to put on a more hospitable facade and give them what they wanted.

If only he knew just what this "customer" truly wanted from him.

After a series of grunts, groans, and huffs, Vander finally made his way to the booth. After forcing a welcoming smile onto his face, he slowly pushed aside the curtains.

"Sorry for the wait. You wanted to speak to the owner—"

His voice faltered, trailing off faster than it had taken him to summon the words.

You feel your own response threaten to catch in your throat, but you won’t cave. You abandon your nerves.

"Why yes, I did. Although..." you drawl, your tone laced with playful mischief, "...'speak' isn’t exactly at the top of the list of things I want to do to the owner."

Your sultry gaze locks onto his, deliciously teasing. Vander, already an imposing figure, looms even larger from your vantage point in the booth. Seated as you are, you find yourself craning your neck significantly just to meet his eyes, the angle only amplifying his commanding presence.

A slew of unidentifiable emotions cross his face in a mere flash before fading into a singularly—equally mischievous to yours—-expression.

“Well. Seein’ as how you are the VIP patron of the night, how can I oblige you?” He queries, his eyebrow raising once more.

Your heart stutters beneath your breast as his expression shifts, his eyes darkening with a lust-filled intensity that sends a shiver through you. The chemistry between you two never failing to baffle you.

"...Serve me," you murmur, your voice soft yet determined to keep the air thick with seduction.

"And what, if I may be so bold to ask, can I serve you with?" he inquires, his voice dipping low, the provocative edge in his gaze unwavering.

"Your body." you quip, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves stirring in your gut, desperate to make it quiver.

Vander eyes you carefully for a moment, savoring the way your confidence wavers. He deliberately toys with the knowledge of how easily he can unsettle you, his gaze lingering as if relishing every flicker of hesitation you try to hide. A smirk slowly spreads across his mouth—the very one you ached for—his eyes glinting with an all-knowing, deviously sexy twinge. He nods softly, his hand rising to casually caress his beard as he watches you, the tension thick in the air.

“Mmhmm. I see," he murmurs, his tone laced with teasing amusement. "Who am I, if not a man willing to care for his loyal customers?" He phrases simply, the words carrying a heavy, unspoken promise before he moves, gracefully lowering himself to his knees across from you. There’s a moment of silence, the air thick with anticipation, before he slowly begins to push himself beneath the table that had kept you both apart.

You don’t dare look beneath the table, almost afraid to meet his gaze at this moment, unsure of what you might see on his face now that the situation has shifted. The tension coils tighter, each passing second amplifying the anticipation that overwhelmed your senses.

You practically jump at the brush of his shoulders against your shins as he crawls to them, the rush of anticipation making every nerve in your body jolt. The aching desperation pulling through you draws attention to your core as you feel his strong hands gently caress your legs, the heat of his touch settling on your knees, sending a shiver through you. The way your teeth begin to tug at your bottom lip seemed like the only way you could physically process your eagerness.

Vander remains silent, his hands moving deliberately in opposite directions, the gesture designed to spread your legs—yet he did so with enough force to split you down the middle if he hadn’t been careful enough. It isn’t until he successfully parts them that he speaks again.

“No bottoms? My. What a dirty girl you are, my dear customer. What if someone else had walked in here, hmm? Did you plan on flashing your bits to any bloke who popped his head in?” He teases, practically groaning some of his words, the guttural tone an unintentional yet instinctual reaction to the sight of you so bare—-so clearly prepared for whatever scenario it was you anticipated happening in this little corner of the establishment.

It was obvious to your husband, from the way you were reacting, that the possibility of him crawling under the table to bury his face between your thighs hadn’t even crossed your mind. The surprise and hesitation in your twitches and subtle movements told him everything he needed to know.

The distant, familiar chatter of real customers beyond the thin barrier tightened the knot in your stomach, throwing you into the reality of the moment. It became an unrelenting presence, grounding you in the tension that hung in the air. Meanwhile, the hot, damp breath of your husband seethed against the cold slickness seeping from your cunt, a stark contrast that deepened the unease coursing through you.

A shiver ran up your spine, your body trembling as nervous spasms raked through your bones when he edged even closer—his hair grazing your skin in that familiar way you knew so well. It wasn’t uncommon for your husband to spend most of his time down here, yet no matter how often it happened, the anxiety it stirred within you never waned.

You had an even harder time controlling how your body writhed as you felt the warmth of his tongue flush itself against your sopping heat. Your nails pressed into the soft wood of the table, digging in as you braced yourself, your body jerking. The spasms faltered for a moment, your body going rigid once he started violently lapping his tongue against your aching clit. The abrasing way his beard rubbed against the skin of your thighs sent you into a spiral.

You had expected him to fuck you directly on the table, to take you in the way you were used to—but instead, he toyed with you from beneath it, the unanticipated choice leaving you bewildered. You had been aching for what felt like ages, the desperation almost unbearable. It was a struggle to keep your mouth from parting—your head tilting back, eyes closing as your husband began to ease the tension that had gripped you for so long.

All you wanted was to whimper, to cry out for him, but you couldn’t—not with the patrons so close, just beyond the curtains. If he had only fucked you as you’d expected, he would’ve easily pressed a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, as he had in similar situations before. But this time, you knew he had chosen this path deliberately, testing whether you could hold your composure.

It was his unspoken way of making you atone for the ploy you used to get him here. He was a patient lover, understanding that even though you had pulled him away from his work—which he didn’t mind as much as he let on—you were just too eager to be patient. Always attuned to your needs, he was more than willing to satisfy the cravings of his most cherished wife, finding joy in fulfilling your desires—no matter the time or place. The absence of his familiar presence behind the bar, and the slight potential for upsetting customers, felt like a small price to pay in exchange for the chance to fully indulge in you. To unravel and claim you in ways only he could.

His tongue was relentless. He sloppily sucked and licked at your needy clit, his nose rubbing against the mound of flesh above as he devoured you. His hands were as equally hungry as his mouth, and in need of something to grab. He manhandles your legs, draping them roughly over his shoulders, his fingers gripping at your plush thighs as he curls his arms around them. In doing so, he pulled you closer, your back slipping against the booth as he guided you down, drawing you nearer to him with a purposeful force. His cock was begging to be set free from its cloth prison as he sunk his tongue deep into the void of your cunt. The rhythmic, wet sounds became a melody more captivating than any song he'd ever heard, especially when paired with the soft mewls of you struggling to stay collected—and most importantly—silent.

You can both hear and feel his laugh against you, a deep, low chuckle that carries a mix of arousal and amusement, vibrating through you with every huff. He found the way he could make you squirm incredibly sexy, the reaction sparking a deep sense of pride within him. There was something about the ease with which he could unsettle you that thrilled him, and he took great satisfaction in knowing how little effort it took. He knew all too well that it only took something as simple as a certain look to have you coming undone—and right now, he was determined to make you come undone. All over his tongue.

Vander knows just how wild his fingers can make you on their own— yet especially so when paired with the mastery of his expertly quick and thoughtful tongue.

He wasted no time in combining the two, intent on making you crack under the pressure. While Vander didn’t particularly want to be caught by patrons, either—or, for that matter, by one of your employees—his desire to make you scream was always his top priority.

He grips your thighs with more gusto than before, continuing to pull them further apart in hopes of expanding his ‘workspace’. He releases one of them, the fingers of that hand moving to replace the tongue that was working its familiar magic inside you. He doesn’t give you so much as a single moment to collect your thoughts as he makes the exchange, effortlessly ramming and curling two up into your cunt as his tongue continues its prior attack on your clit.

You swore you were seeing stars behind your eyelids, your grip on the table faltering just like your efforts to stay in control. You couldn't even attempt to cover your mouth, not with the relentless—yet unintentional—way your hands found their way under the table, tangling in his hair and gripping with enough force to pull some strands loose.

You greedily buck your hips down to meet the thrusting of his digits, pulling his head as far into your cunt as possible. He doesn’t complain. He never would. Maybe it was his own type of preferred masochism, but he’d consider suffocating and perishing in between your legs in this way, a noble death.

Your toes ache from the force with which you’re curling them, your legs clutching and winding around his shoulders and neck like a python.

By now, you had abandoned all caution, hope, and effort to moan quietly. You were practically screaming over the deliciously knowing way he prodded his thick fingers into your cunt. He had long forgotten to move them in and out. He knew exactly what spot drove you mad, and he made his most conscious effort to curl them into it as rapidly and frequently as possible.

As much as Vander adored your cries, they were truly becoming far too loud. He really didn’t want any curious folks to come wandering in to spoil the moment when you were so close to your inevitable peak. He has no choice but to silence you. With the hand that remained on your other thigh, he removed it from its resting place, reaching up from beneath the table as he gazes up at you. With a smirk against your cunt, and his eyes studying how your head was still thrown back against the booth, eyes shut tighter than a steel trap—-he shoves two of his free fingers into your mouth. Your eyes shoot open. You look down at him, earning a wink from your husband as he smirks harder against your cunt. The eye contact was filthy, in the most erotic way possible. It always made you feel slightly awkward, in an oddly arousing way, when you made such a type of contact with him in the heat of a moment like this.

You willingly sucked on his fingers, now understanding the purpose for his actions after a thoughtful moment. He groans against your cunt, luckily the sound being muffled by how much his mouth was buried into it. Your tongue swirls itself rapaciously around the digits, drool falling from your mouth as you did so. Vander simply can’t tear his eyes away from such a sight. He groans more as you lower your own gaze, your expression deadly with seduction. He was almost pissy that both of his hands were occupied at the moment. He was anxious to palm at his cock, desperate to find friction of his own now.

His tongue and lips were still working their relentless job on your clit, suckling every few seconds amidst the slurping. The way his facial hair brushes against it every now and then almost sends you into hysterics—bordering on a full blown frenzy.

Your legs are quaking, twitching and spasming with every harsh lick to your clit. It was so sensitive, you couldn’t help how it shocked your nerves, causing them all to fire simultaneously. Electricity burned in your veins, desperate to chase your orgasm as it made your hips flick against his mouth faster than he could lap at you.

Your orgasm burrowed itself into the pit of your stomach, commanding you to follow it down to your cunt.

It didn’t take much longer for you to keel over the edge of your impending climax. It burst through you, your legs clamping shut around his face—a move which Vander was used to by now—-hips mindlessly gyrating against his face as you brutally cum around his fingers. Vander can feel your walls clenching and relaxing back to back with each additional thrust he gave, your voice begging to slip past his fingers as you come undone. He thought you had been dripping wet at the start of this—but he had been sorely mistaken. Your arousal was seeping out of you despite his fingers plugging you up.

“Attagirl..” He whispers against you, giving your clit a few final licks before reluctantly pulling away. The grip on his hair finally loosened as your body went almost completely limp. Your breathing came in rapid, shallow gasps, just as desperate as Vander, himself, now was. His cock was so hard, it felt like it was being choked by his trousers. But he had the patience of a saint. He could wait as long as needed for you to collect yourself once again.

“So, was the service to your liking?” he asks, his tone teasing—and entirely rhetorical—as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. The fingers that had been in your mouth slide free as he takes a moment to compose himself.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles, clearly amused by how speechless you’ve become.

“Just don’t forget to tip your server..” He teases, alluding to the painfully obvious fact, that this situation is far from over.

Alice and Bella are like: 'Alice' don't do shit 'bella' OK OK I won't

Demiteri be looking at bella like: my next meal tonight

Felix is just in the back like: why am I here

Jane is like: I will kill you all if you keep this shit up

Edward reading all of their minds except bellas: OK now wtf is wrong with y'all

#awkward

Hottest Arcane Character, Men's Bracket: Round Two

Viktor vs. Vander

Please reblog for sample size. Voters are encouraged to add propaganda, screencaps, gifs, etc. to their reblogs.