Possessive Much? Fez X Reader Drabble

50 posts!

forgive me father for i have sexualized an older man

PROWLER MILES USED TO SMILE EXACTLY LIKE THIS. THIS WAS HIM. CAN SOMEONE PLEASE CALL A FUCKING AMBULANCE IM LOSING IT

hey babes i hope you’re doing good! can i ask you do more platonic ash x reader please they warm my heart 🥺

🤍

I am doing amazing 🥰 and yes of course I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to do some platonic ash fluff 🥺 that boy needs some love in his life :’) also I just checked and we hit 100 followers! I know it’s small but it’s such a big step for me ❤️

Pillow forts and arguments - platonic ashtray x reader, fezco x reader

Warnings: Pure angst for a bit, you and Fez are dating but are on a break, season 2 spoilers, you and Ash are super close.

Whenever you and Fezco decided to go on a break you thought who would be more upset, you or Fez, never in a hundred years would you think that Ashtray would be the one losing his fucking mind over it. Alas Fez called you, panicked and not knowing what to do “I don’t know what the fuck happened…I was chillin in the livin room and he fuckin started breakin shit” fez explained, you could hear Ash in the back ground. It broke your heart, you grew up with Ashtray, you helped raise the kid along side Fez and their grandma, taking the role of his mother or older sister figure.

“I’ll be over it in a minute, just make sure he doesn’t hurt himself breaking things, I’ll text you when I’m there love you!” You rushed out hanging up the phone, it had been two weeks since you had really spoke with Fez, you both agreed after a fight you both needed space, and so far it was nice, not that you didn’t miss Fez, you just enjoyed the time to yourself. Your mind raced a mile a minute, worried about Ash, you had been texting him a few moments before and he was perfectly fine, what happened? Stopping your bike in front of Fezco’s house you knocked rapidly biting your nail, the door opened and you saw Fez, his face was painted with hurt, muffled screams and clashes from Ashtray’s room followed “I don’t know what the fuck happened…everytime I ask what happened he just screams at me so loud I can’t fuckin understand” he mumbled shoving his hands in his pockets. You cupping his cheek smiling at him, this is why Fezco loved you, you were that burst of pure sunshine in his life "I'll talk to him okay?.."

Nodding a bit at Fez you walked past him glancing at the blonde in confusion keeping eye contact as you walked past her and to Ash’s door knocking lightly “Fez I fucking swear to!-“ Ash went silent seeing you on the other side of the door after he swung it open ready to cuss his brother out again for trying to get into his business. “Can I come in to talk with you?” You asked looking at him, Ashtray had very little self control not to tell you to fuck off and to just leave and let him down like you did before, but he didn’t, he found himself hugging you tightly once you had sat yourself on his bed. You smiled a bit knowing you always had this effect on either of the boys, no matter how big and tough they thought they were, get them alone in the room with you and they’re the sweetest most respectful men you’ll ever meet. “Fez said you just started breaking stuff….what’s goin on bub?..” you asked softly rubbing his back determined to find out what’s making your adopted son so upset.

“You can’t fuckin tell Fez…I don’t want him thinkin I’m some little bitch or something…” Ash said slowly sitting up in his spot next to you on his bed “when have I ever told fez about our talks?..” you whispered to him looking at him smiling softly cupping his cheek “so you gonna talk to me or just keep giving more rules for you telling me what’s wrong?” You asked shaking his head with your hands before he pouted looking at you laying his head on your shoulder. “Are you and Fez gonna stay apart?…” You heard Ash whisper, you heart melted and broke, Ash was this upset over you and fez going on a break “well…I hope not…we don’t plan to..we plan to get back together..is that why you’re so upset?..” you asked taking notice to him playing with the rings on your fingers “I just…you’re like the only chick in my life that’s stable….I don’t wanna lose you…plus you helped raise him…you’re just as special as fez to me” Ash admitted, you took in a shaky breath tearing up, kissing Ashtray’s head “you are too sweet, my dear” you whispered hugging him tightly, After a good minute long hug you pulled away looking at him “I promise…fez and I will get back together, maybe not right this moment...but we still love each other the same.." You whispered rubbing Ashtray's back frowning "You've been saying that shit for weeks!" He yelled jerking up looking at you, his mood shifting again "Ashtray.." You whispered looking at him, that's when you noticed, Ashtray had smoked a blunt earlier, he was probably stoned and trying to fix his anxieties.

"Stop lying to me!" He yelled, you looked at him grabbing his chin "okay, starters. you do not raise your voice at me, I may have upset you but you do not talk to me like you are" You snapped before standing up "Now. Just because Fez and I aren't together right now doesn't mean I'm gonna disappear or stop coming around, You are still like my baby brother and I am not gonna leave you behind" You whispered hugging him tightly "He brought another girl here to stay.." He whispered, you raised your eyebrows at him "Who? Blondie in the dining room?" You smiled looking at him, he looked up at you frowning with a soft nod "Oh my god...Ash..if you woulda' talked to me..or fez..you would've known, Faye is staying here yes, but Fez is doin it as a favor, trust me" You whispered, you saw Ashtray's cheeks heat up with embarrassment. "Don't...tell Fez" Ash whispered hugging you again "Just don't want the dumbass to make the mistake of losin you" you heard him mumble, you just nodded and lead him out of the room and to the living room.

You sent Fez to the store for snacks while you set up a pillow fort in Ashtray's room, sometimes Ash felt like you were the only one who was still worried about him doing kid things. He just stood in the doorway watching you put it all together and turn the movie onto the tv. Climbing into the pillow/blanket fort, followed by Ash and then eventually Fez. The three of you laid together watching the Halloween movies, almost like magic you watched as Fez fell asleep and then Ash, Fezco's head resting on your shoulder, and Ash using Fez as his personal pillow, sprawled out across his side of the bed making you giggle. Looking over you sighed, kissing their foreheads and covering them both up with a cover, after a mental battle that lasted about two minutes you curled up next to Fez falling asleep next to him, finally feeling at home after two weeks.

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.

Happy Halloween my thirsty friends 🧡 Here's a little treat for all the Vander fans out there because we deserve some delicious, filthy spicy smut. You've been warned.

The night outside is bustling, noisy, muffled by glass and old walls, while inside it's more quiet, save for the huffs and low groans emanating from a shielded corner booth...

He's sprawled on the bench, one hand gripping the seat back and the other on your head, thick fingers tangled in your hair as your lips are wrapped around his considerably thicker cock.

He hisses in a breath, "That's it darlin', that's good-so good-"

You would have responded more were your mouth not currently occupied, but you manage a long moan, the vibrations only serving to draw a string of stuttered curses from him.

Releasing him with a sinfully audible pop, your tongue weaves a trail from the bottom of his shaft to the top, your eyes not leaving his dangerously lust-darkened ones even as you suck teasingly on the tip. He growls, tightening his grip on your hair in the way he knows you enjoy and jerks his hips just enough to bury himself in your warm mouth again.

"Good girl..." he breaths, "Keep goin' and I'll return the favor..."

@vander-affectionate @barbersjoy @immortalbumblebee @catgoblinchelly @band--psycho

ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: 2x06 - “The Message Hidden Within the Pattern” ↳ "Do you remember them?"