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RHAENYRA & DAENERYS House of the Dragon (2022-) | Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Mother's day

Paring: platonic!Ashtray x fem!reader, romantic!Fezco x fem!reader

Posted February 22nd, 2022

note from xe: this is a dream I had the other day! I changed some things and added others, but overall I really enjoyed writing this and I missed Ashtray so this really helped :) Also, the reader is half Latina (bc it is based on me and my dream) she's also the oldest daughter of Suze Howard making her Lexi and Cassie's older sister. The reader and Fez are both about 19 in this. Also, this doesn't follow canon even a little.

Summary: it's mother's day and Ash just wants to show his mama some love

word count: 1.3k

Ash and Fez watched as the girl walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, listening to her talk on the phone.

“Yeah, mom, I’m gonna get ready, and then I’ll come over and we can like spend the day together or some shit. And the girls are coming too right? Awesome, yeah I’ll see you soon, bye mama, love you too”

Once Y/n put her phone down on the counter, Ashtray stood up from his seat at the small table. Making his way to the sink.

“Hey, Y/n can I ask you a question?” Ash asked, getting both Y/n and Fezco’s attention.

“Course, what's up, sweets?” The sweet smile on Y/n’s face was enough for Ash to back out of the question he had.

“Nevermind, it’s stupid,”

“Didn’t you declare me the queen of stupid questions? Let me hear it, Ash,”

“I was just wondering if maybe we could hang out some today, ya know like before you go to dinner with your sisters and mom,” Ash had a hesitant look in his eyes and it didn’t go away when Fezco responded.

“Ash, it’s mother’s day, bro, Y/n got plans,”

“I know it’s mother’s day, I just was wondering because you’re kinda like the only mom I ever had and shit, but it's cool if you can’t” Ash dropped the plastic bowl in the sink, ready to walk away from this whole interaction and act like it didn’t happen to begin with.

“Ash, you mean that? Like for real? You want to celebrate mother’s day with me?”

Ash and Y/n had just met a little over a year ago when she and Fezco first started dating.

For obvious reasons Ashtray was extremely on guard around Y/n, that was until one night when she was over waiting for Fezco to come home from the store and Ash had gotten home first, having to study for a test he had coming up. Ash walked in on Y/n dancing around the kitchen with music blasting through the speaker she had set up for Ash and Fez, in Fezco’s sweater while she waited for the cookies she was baking to be done. And when Ash made his presence known,

“Uh, Y/n?”

All she did was turn around and smile at the boy before asking,

“You want cookies? I’m making cookies! Homemade even! They might be shit but we’ll find out in like five minutes!”

That’s when he knew he didn’t really have to worry about her ruining anything for him and his older brother.

Just 30 minutes after that, Ash and Y/n had been sitting at the table eating the homemade cookies while she tried to help Ash with his history homework.

“I don’t remember freshman history being so fucking hard,”

“I don’t understand why I gotta write a whole paper on this old white dude,”

“Nobody does, babe, that’s just how shit is,”

The nonchalant use of the pet name ‘babe’ stuck around after that. Others worked their way in, ‘sweets’ ‘lover’ ‘mi amor’

A few weeks after that is when Ash first started referring to Y/n as ‘ma’

Something Fezco called her often, but when Ash called her ‘ma’ it was different.

Even if Ash didn’t clarify it, all three of them knew what he meant.

Occasionally if Fez would ask where Y/n was Ash would respond with something like ‘Mom’s in the bathroom,’ or if Ash wanted to know if Y/n was coming over that day, he’d ask ‘Is ma coming over tonight?’

Fez and Y/n never pushed the boy to talk about it, they both decided it was best to just let it be and act normal about it, knowing how Ash can get weird if he’s asked to talk about his feelings.

Instead, Y/n showed him she knew what he meant with actions.

Scratching his head whenever he laid his head in her lap the same way she had done to Fez, cooking him his favorite meals, baking with him, even going out of her way to almost baby him when he and Fez got back from a particularly rough night.

Y/n wasn’t stupid, she knew that there were plenty of things Ash could never experience because in some ways he never really got to be a kid, but she also knew what it was like to not be treated like a kid when she really needed it.

Y/n had taken on a pretty big role in her sisters’ lives when their dad ditched, basically losing the rest of her own childhood in the process.

And while Y/n never once compared the two childhoods, she did try and make it so Ash still at least had a present, loving, mother figure to be there for him when he needed her.

Ashtray would never admit it, not in front of Fezco at least, but he always needed it, hell, he even helped Fezco work up enough courage to ask her to move in.

Y/n was ecstatic, to say the least.

And when she did get all her stuff moved in, somehow she managed to make their house feel even more like a home to Ash than before.

Some nights Ash and Y/n would sit in Ashtray’s room until the early hours of the morning (or late hours of the night if you ask Ashtray) and they’d just talk.

Talk about work, family, their lives, what happened that day.

Even when Faye first started living with them, Y/n helped Ash to feel more comfortable about the random woman sitting on his couch.

Ashtray adored and loved Y/n in a way he hadn’t felt about Fez, growing up with Fez as his big brother.

Y/n was his mom.

“I mean, yeah, but like just a few hours, you don’t gotta cancel your plans or nothin’”

The smile on Y/n’s lips convinced Ashtray not to go to his room just yet.

“Baby, I’d love that, do you have anything planned?”

“Well, no,” Y/n cut Ash off before he could explain why. Not needing an explanation.

“That’s okay! I’m gonna go get ready and call my mom, I’ll have to rearrange a few things but that’s okay!” Ash put his hands on the girl’s shoulders to stop her from leaving the room.

“Wait, I have something for you,”

Fez and Y/n watched as the boy walked away to go get something from his room.

Y/n looked behind her, looking at the redhead who had been watching from afar while eating his cereal. Fez sent her a soft smile, seeing how excited she was.

Ash came back less than 2 minutes later with a little pink box with a red ribbon wrapped around it.

“Here, open this,”

Y/n looked at Ash watching him nod, confirming the words he had just said so that she’d open it.

Inside the small box was a dainty gold necklace that had the word ‘Ash’ on it, matching the necklace Fez had given her for their 1 year anniversary that had a small gold ‘F’ on it.

The little necklace had Y/n fighting back tears.

“Well, now you gotta put it on me,” Y/n’s words caused Ash to laugh before he took back the box and took out the necklace before carefully putting it around Y/n’s neck.

“Thank you, mi amor,” Y/n brought the boy into a hug, and Ash immediately responded, laying his head on her shoulder.

“I love you,” Y/n wasn’t expecting a response, Ash never told her he loved her in front of Fez but this time she heard him whisper “I love you too, mama,” just loud enough for her to hear.

Reblog this it could save yours or someone elses life

THROUGH A RAPIST’S EYES” (PLS TAKE TIME TO READ THIS. It may save a life, It may save your life.)

An Article from Neena Susan Thomas

“Through a rapist’s eyes. A group of rapists and date rapists in prison were interview…ed on what they look for in a potential victim and here are some interesting facts:

1] The first thing men look for in a potential victim is hairstyle. They are most likely to go after a woman with a ponytail, bun! , braid, or other hairstyle that can easily be grabbed. They are also likely to go after a woman with long hair. Women with short hair are not common targets.

2] The second thing men look for is clothing. They will look for women who’s clothing is easy to remove quickly. Many of them carry scissors around to cut clothing.

3] They also look for women using their cell phone, searching through their purse or doing other activities while walking because they are off guard and can be easily overpowered.

4] The number one place women are abducted from / attacked at is grocery store parking lots.

5] Number two is office parking lots/garages.

6] Number three is public restrooms.

7] The thing about these men is that they are looking to grab a woman and quickly move her to a second location where they don’t have to worry about getting caught.

8] If you put up any kind of a fight at all, they get discouraged because it only takes a minute or two for them to realize that going after you isn’t worth it because it will be time-consuming.

9] These men said they would not pick on women who have umbrellas,or other similar objects that can be used from a distance, in their hands.

10] Keys are not a deterrent because you have to get really close to the attacker to use them as a weapon. So, the idea is to convince these guys you’re not worth it.

POINTS THAT WE SHOULD REMEMBER:

1] If someone is following behind you on a street or in a garage or with you in an elevator or stairwell, look them in the face and ask them a question, like what time is it, or make general small talk: can’t believe it is so cold out here, we’re in for a bad winter. Now that you’ve seen their faces and could identify them in a line- up, you lose appeal as a target.

2] If someone is coming toward you, hold out your hands in front of you and yell Stop or Stay back! Most of the rapists this man talked to said they’d leave a woman alone if she yelled or showed that she would not be afraid to fight back. Again, they are looking for an EASY target.

3] If you carry pepper spray (this instructor was a huge advocate of it and carries it with him wherever he goes,) yelling I HAVE PEPPER SPRAY and holding it out will be a deterrent.

4] If someone grabs you, you can’t beat them with strength but you can do it by outsmarting them. If you are grabbed around the waist from behind, pinch the attacker either under the arm between the elbow and armpit or in the upper inner thigh – HARD. One woman in a class this guy taught told him she used the underarm pinch on a guy who was trying to date rape her and was so upset she broke through the skin and tore out muscle strands the guy needed stitches. Try pinching yourself in those places as hard as you can stand it; it really hurts.

5] After the initial hit, always go for the groin. I know from a particularly unfortunate experience that if you slap a guy’s parts it is extremely painful. You might think that you’ll anger the guy and make him want to hurt you more, but the thing these rapists told our instructor is that they want a woman who will not cause him a lot of trouble. Start causing trouble, and he’s out of there.

6] When the guy puts his hands up to you, grab his first two fingers and bend them back as far as possible with as much pressure pushing down on them as possible. The instructor did it to me without using much pressure, and I ended up on my knees and both knuckles cracked audibly.

7] Of course the things we always hear still apply. Always be aware of your surroundings, take someone with you if you can and if you see any odd behavior, don’t dismiss it, go with your instincts. You may feel little silly at the time, but you’d feel much worse if the guy really was trouble.

FINALLY, PLEASE REMEMBER THESE AS WELL ….

1. Tip from Tae Kwon Do: The elbow is the strongest point on your body. If you are close enough to use it, do it.

2. Learned this from a tourist guide to New Orleans : if a robber asks for your wallet and/or purse, DO NOT HAND IT TO HIM. Toss it away from you…. chances are that he is more interested in your wallet and/or purse than you and he will go for the wallet/purse. RUN LIKE MAD IN THE OTHER DIRECTION!

3. If you are ever thrown into the trunk of a car: Kick out the back tail lights and stick your arm out the hole and start waving like crazy. The driver won’t see you but everybody else will. This has saved lives.

4. Women have a tendency to get into their cars after shopping,eating, working, etc., and just sit (doing their checkbook, or making a list, etc. DON’T DO THIS! The predator will be watching you, and this is the perfect opportunity for him to get in on the passenger side,put a gun to your head, and tell you where to go. AS SOON AS YOU CLOSE the DOORS , LEAVE.

5. A few notes about getting into your car in a parking lot, or parking garage:

a. Be aware: look around your car as someone may be hiding at the passenger side , peek into your car, inside the passenger side floor, and in the back seat. ( DO THIS TOO BEFORE RIDING A TAXI CAB) .

b. If you are parked next to a big van, enter your car from the passenger door. Most serial killers attack their victims by pulling them into their vans while the women are attempting to get into their cars.

c. Look at the car parked on the driver’s side of your vehicle, and the passenger side. If a male is sitting alone in the seat nearest your car, you may want to walk back into the mall, or work, and get a guard/policeman to walk you back out. IT IS ALWAYS BETTER TO BE SAFE THAN SORRY. (And better paranoid than dead.)

6. ALWAYS take the elevator instead of the stairs. (Stairwells are horrible places to be alone and the perfect crime spot).

7. If the predator has a gun and you are not under his control, ALWAYS RUN! The predator will only hit you (a running target) 4 in 100 times; And even then, it most likely WILL NOT be a vital organ. RUN!

8. As women, we are always trying to be sympathetic: STOP IT! It may get you raped, or killed. Ted Bundy, the serial killer, was a good-looking, well educated man, who ALWAYS played on the sympathies of unsuspecting women. He walked with a cane, or a limp, and often asked “for help” into his vehicle or with his vehicle, which is when he abducted his next victim.

Send this to any woman you know that may need to be reminded that the world we live in has a lot of crazies in it and it’s better safe than sorry.

If u have compassion reblog this post. ‘Helping hands are better than Praying Lips’ – give us your helping hand.

REBLOG THIS AND LET EVERY GIRL KNOW AT LEAST PEOPLE WILL KNOW WHATS GOING ON IN THIS WORLD. So please reblog this….Your one reblog can Help to spread this information.

THIS COULD ACTUALLY SAVE A LIFE.”

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

Adonis would buy you a track suit with his last name bedazzled on the butt 🤭 pass it on

Me:I read manhwas for the plot!

The plot:

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.

Back in Town

Gif credit: @catpainrogers

Pairing: April Dibrina x Reader

A/N: A very smart person suggested writing about Sofia’s new movie to help with my writer’s block and I would like to thank them haha anyways hope you like it

//

Opening up the doors to the New Hope Dance Studio, you tugged your beanie off your head and looked around the small room. It was late afternoon so you didn’t expect many people around, your footsteps echoing loudly on the tiles. The wall is lined with pictures of the same girl that everybody has been talking about all over town. 

A small girl with big dreams of becoming a dancer made it on Broadway in New York City. The town’s pride and joy. You smiled as you let your eyes roam over from photo to photo, to her face in the local article about her achievement. 

Faint thumps of beats coming from the practice room made your head turn to the right and you curiously peaked your head inside the door. 

April’s body moved with grace to the song, completely lost in the rhythm as she danced in front of the mirror, blocking out the world around her. You stood mesmerized at the sight, your eyes taking her in as she gave it her all, dancing her heart out with the spotlight shining on her.

You wasn’t even aware of the smile blooming on your face or the fact that she suddenly stopped and rounded on you, hands on her hips while she tried to control her breathing.

“This is a private lesson.” 

You shook your head slightly as you stepped inside further. 

“Oh, sorry, I’m just - You’re April, right?” You asked softly.

Her eyebrows frowned in confusion as she grabbed the remote from the floor and turned the music off. “Do I know you?”

“No but I know you.” At her surprised face, you finally smiled at her. “Your face is all around town. You’re pretty hard to miss.” You couldn’t help yourself as your eyes dropped down slightly before you forced it back up, not missing the way April’s head tilted to the side at the gesture. 

“I’m Y/N. My little sister wants to join your class. My Mom sent me to check it out.” You continued, crossing your arms over your chest. April’s eyes hardened for a second.

“Well, we don’t hold auditions at the moment. My class is full. Maybe next time.”

Her harsh tone didn’t bother you at all as she turned the music back on, although slightly quieter and started to move again with easy. You took a moment to watch before you opened your mouth. 

“You’re really good, you know? I’ve seen your videos on Youtube.” 

At that April abruptly stopped and her face changed to something that was a mix between angry and ashamed for a second before she cooled her expression and pointedly started at the mirror.

“That’s great. I’m not Youtube’s biggest fan at the moment so…” 

Suddenly understanding her anger, you were quick to clarify. 

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about that…I mean, that Broadway Cares benefits that you danced at. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you in that chorus.” 

You smiled as her head snapped to you, eyes boring into yours as she seized you up. You toyed with the fabric of your beanie in your hands but didn’t break the eye contact.  

“Do you dance?” Her tone was stern but kind and you laughed.

“Oh no, I have two left feet. I actually think it would be quiet dangerous for me. I don’t want to face-plant in front of a bunch of little kids who are better than me.” You felt pride spread through your body when you caught the smallest of smile appearing on April’s face. You promised yourself to make her smile more. “My sister can, though. That’s why I’m here.”

“Hm.” She hummed absentmindedly and killed the music before grabbing her purse from one of the chairs, “Maybe I can teach you.” She walked closer and you instantly straightened up, dropping your crossed arms. 

“Maybe.” You smiled happily but couldn’t help keep out the teasing tone in your voice when you noticed something in her bag. “Is that a block of cheese in your purse?”

April immediately snapped her bag closed and pulled it close to her side so you couldn’t see inside and lifted her chin high in the air. You bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

“Bring your sister on Friday afternoon and I will see what I can do.” 

With that she walked past you quickly and you spun around to watch her push open the doors and leave the studio.

“Yes, Miss April.” You grinned and couldn’t wait until Friday to see her again.

//