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the-boy-meets-evil · 8 days

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not according to plan | hjs (teaser)

summary: your ex-fiance is getting married and everyone you know is going to be there. when he calls to ask if you're coming, you accidentally mention a boyfriend. which would be fine, if you weren't very single. thankfully your best friend comes through with the perfect solution when he sets you up with a friend of his.

pairing: joshua x f.reader genre: fake dating, strangers to ?? | fluff, slight angst, smut rating: explicit (in the full fic), minors DNI word count: ~1.1k in this teaser (full fic ~22k) notes: johnny suh as the ex (sorry!), also includes other idols not in seventeen solely as face claims, there's a heavy focus on the fake dating, mentions of food & drink, warnings to be added to the final fic fic post date: friday, april 26th (full fic here)

a/n: i started this legit months ago as kind of a joke, talking about it with @shuadotcom but it's finally done (and a lot longer than i anticipated).

thank you to: @wonwussy & @kwanisms who read over this for me (too long ago), and to @cheolism @wooahaeproductions @hannieween, & sj for all the brainstorming help along the way. tagging: @aaniag @gyuminusone @crepecakeu

if you'd like to be tagged in this fic (or any of my fics), comment, click here for my tag list, or send an ask 💕

You still think this is a terrible idea, yet agree to meet Jeonghan’s friend, Joshua, anyway. Apparently, he’s somewhat new to the area, doesn’t know many people, and is incredibly easy to be around. There’s no mention of why Jeonghan thinks he might be willing to pretend to be your boyfriend. A part of you wonders if your friend even told him, but he’s not that cruel. So, whatever the case, Joshua must at least have some idea of what he’s walking into.

Several days pass between the nightmare of a call from Johnny and you actually meeting Joshua, which only adds to your anxiety about whether or not this is going to work. Johnny is asking for a name for the seating chart and for dinner selections. Your mom wants to know when they’ll be able to meet this new boyfriend before the wedding (because “meeting him for the first time at a wedding is gauche” and we wouldn’t want that). Your sister is convinced that he doesn’t actually exist since you haven’t posted him on social media. That you can at least answer to say that not everyone posts their entire life online like she does. It doesn’t seem to allay her suspicions, though.

Then, there’s the fact that you’re actually meeting Joshua for the first time at dinner. All you wanted was to go for coffee, yet he insisted. You couldn’t exactly press the point. Not when you’re planning to ask this stranger to pretend to date you just so that you can avoid the embarrassment at your ex’s wedding. On top of that, because Jeonghan really is a demon at his core, you don’t know what Joshua looks like. Don’t know who to look for. Which leads to you doing the only sensible thing and showing up 5 minutes late for dinner, hoping that he’ll already be at the table when you get there.

It works.

When you give the reservation name at the host stand, you’re immediately led back to a table. Without even thinking about it, you smooth your hands down the front of your dress, looking for a small amount of comfort in this situation. It’s not even that you struggle around new people, this is just…well, it’s a lot. It’s out of anyone’s comfort zone. Whatever you’re expecting, it’s not the man sitting at the table the host leads you to. He nearly stops you in your tracks.

His black hair is perfectly styled down to the pieces on one side that come down over his forehead. The black dress shirt he wears is open at least one button too many, but he makes the exposed chest look work in a way models would envy. Even though his pants are black as well, he makes it look classic and effortless, rather than too dark. That’s all without even acknowledging the soft smile on his face. This man would break a thousand hearts without even saying a damn word. While you’re appreciating him, you miss the way his eyes rake over you appreciatively. Miss the way his eyes trace your curves and the way the dress clings to you.

In one fluid motion, he’s standing up to greet you, a gentle kiss placed on your cheek. Is it weird if your knees are a little weak? Well, even if it is, there’s nothing you can do. You’re completely captivated.

“You must be Joshua,” you say. Brilliant, you think. That’s obvious.

“It’s nice to meet you. Jeonghan had nothing but good things to say,” he answers with another smile as he pulls your seat out for you.

“I feel like he hardly told me about you,” you respond. Joshua raises a perfect eyebrow at that.

“Then why did you agree to go out with me?” Joshua asks.

“Go out with…is this a date?” The question comes tumbling out.

Joshua’s eyes widen in genuine confusion. “Is it not?”

“What, exactly, did Jeonghan say to you?”

A lot and nothing at all, it turns out. Joshua tells you about how he’s somewhat new to the area, which you knew. About how he met Jeonghan through work, kind of. They work in the same building doing very different things and happened to run into each other getting coffee a handful of times before Jeonghan introduced himself. The two had hung out several times, something Jeonghan had not really mentioned, and gotten to know each other over drinks more than once. The very first time, Jeonghan had mentioned you and Joshua admits immediately being intrigued without pressing for more information.

In any case, Jeonghan talked about you pretty freely, a fact that’s hardly surprising. Before Joshua texted you, Jeonghan had mentioned, in what Joshua calls an offhand way, that you were sick of dating the same people. According to Joshua, through Jeonghan, you were looking to possibly be set up. (Read: Jeonghan thinks he’s crafty and isn’t going to come out and tell this man what you’re really looking for. Typical Jeonghan, honestly. You know that “offhand comment” was anything but. And you had the audacity to think Jeonghan would have to tell Joshua what he’s getting into. Rookie move.)

Now you’re in a bit of an awkward situation because this man is honestly gorgeous, one of the prettiest humans you’ve ever met. And, already, he seems like he might be sweet with a pretty good sense of humor. It’s just…well, you’re absolutely not looking for a relationship and this is the last person you want to get involved in your mess. Thankfully, you get a moment to catch your breath when someone comes by to take a drink order and suggest an appetizer. It’s just enough time for you to talk yourself into telling Joshua the real story.

To his credit, he only looks mildly surprised as you outline your whole situation, inform him that yes, Jeonghan does know all of this, and clarify why you didn’t actually realize it was a date. It’s hard to miss the way his eyes seem to sparkle a bit when you also admit that he’s absolutely stunning in a way that hurts your feelings. Easier to miss is the way his face barely falls when you say that you’re not actually looking for something right now. Interesting.

“So that’s the whole thing and now that I’ve embarrassed myself in front of you, I’m sure you’ll understand if we never see each other after tonight,” you finish.

“How am I supposed to go to a wedding as your boyfriend in a matter of weeks if we don’t see each other after tonight?” Joshua wonders.

let me know if you want to be tagged when i post the full fic next week 💕 (and what you think so far)

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starrypen · 5 months

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⋇⊶⊰ (FINALLY) GIVING JUNGWON HEAD ⊱⊷⋇

pairing: dom!jungwon x gn!reader

genre: smut

summary: jungwon was a great project partner. not only did you learn lots about the module, but also how to give head!

warnings: implied virgin reader, pet names, face fucking, giving head, dom jungwon, implied sub reader, swearing. 1.4k words.

a/n: self indulgent. i want jungwon so bad.

for what could be one last time, you took in the scenery of your classmate’s room. the walls were painted ivory, the desk was a metallic navy, his bedsheets a similar shade of blue. although you hated this module, it turned out to be your favourite, but maybe that’s just because you were finally able to get some one-on-one time with jungwon. you’d been partnered up together for this project, and you’d enjoyed every second of it. you’d actually become quite close, flirty even. he’d often ask for a message, tell you how good your hands felt on him, or ask if you wanted one in return. he’d sometimes seem bummed when you said you going on dates, or hanging around with guys, but you didn’t want to delude yourself, maybe he just wanted to get the project done sooner.

tonight, you’d finally finished the poster for the presentation. it felt like an end, and you didn’t really like that. just as you were contemplating asking him out on a date, jungwon popped a rather intrusive question.

“is giving head fun?” jungwon asked, folding the peel of his banana in on itself while finishing the last bite. he aimed for the trash can in his room and succeeded, as per usual.

this was his usual style of conversation, he definitely meant it in a playful way, but you felt obligated to answer it truthfully. “uh i mean,” you shifted awkwardly and gulped as you watched his throw, “i cannot confirm or deny.”

“i take that as a no then,” he picked up the scissors and stretched up to his desk with them, placing them down firmly as his eyes scanned the poster.

your eyes do the same, anything to avoid looking at him, “well i wouldn’t know, that’s why i can’t say.”

he turns to you, puzzled, “huh?” his brows furrowed more as he notices you burning up, “i thought you’d slept with loads of guys?”

“yeah, no, i haven’t, i just said that to be you know,” you cringed at your previous interactions with the boy whose room you were currently in, “cool…” you gulped again, biting the bullet as words escaped before you could stop them, “but i kinda want to know, i just haven’t found someone who would be worthy of such an honour yet.” you owned it, a smirk on your face, which jungwon could clearly tell was feigned confidence.

his hand came to rest on yours, ceasing it’s trembling which gave you away. “do you really wanna try?”

you nodded.

“what about with me?” he waited until you nodded again. “would that be okay?”

“are you sure?”

to your surprise, jungwon laughed, “y/n, i’ve been waiting for this day since the first day of college, i’m very much okay with this.”

you joined in, awkwardly, “me too, to be honest.” his hand disappeared from yours as you finally got more comfortable in your laughter, instead tussling with his jeans’ zipper, standing up as he did so. you joined him, standing clumsily, watching him.

“sit down, y/n,” his eyes darted to the bed as he took one leg from his jeans, the other following shortly.

you sat, his boxers in your eyeline. you couldn’t help but look, his bulge right in front of you. you held your breath as your teeth tore your lips and the inside of your cheeks apart.

“hey, y/n, don’t be nervous, okay? we can stop at any time, you got that?” you felt his hand on your head, stroking it gently, calming you slowly but surely. “look at me, baby,” he spoke softly, your eyes drifted up to his.

after a short while of eye contact, your eyes naturally fell once again to his boxers, “do you wanna touch it?” he asked.

you nodded, his hand still on your head but not guiding your response at all. your hand timidly reached out, cupping the general area a little gauchely.

“how about you rub your hand over it? up and down,” you tried to imitate his suggestion with your hand, and with a little help from his own, you managed to get a good feel of his hardening cock. “good, doesn’t it feel good to know that you did this?”

you giggled shyly, but almost a little smugly, under your breath, “it does.”

“then how about i let you see, how does that sound, hm?” by this point, you were no longer palming his cock, instead, your hand running over his own as he played with his own dick inside his boxers.

“good,” you agreed, not really sure of what to say.

he revealed his dick, pulling his boxers to just below it and then finally pulling them completely off as he watched you admire it.

you licked your lips as if you’d already been conditioned to do so. “it’s so,” your hand went to it once again, employing the same motion, again a little awkwardly, before wrapping your hand around it more comfortably, “thick.”

“is it?” he asks in pleasant surprise, “well it’s all yours, baby.”

you pump it a couple more times, getting used to the feeling, before asking, “can i try sucking it?”

“you’re so eager,” he chuckles, “of course you can,” the hand on the back of your head starts to guide you towards his semi hardened cock as you get closer to his body. you’re not sure if the heat is coming from him or your face alone at this point, but you’re almost basking in it as if its warm caribbean sun.

“open your mouth, i’ll just put the tip in.” you did as he said and he kept to his promise, the head of his cock resting on your tongue. “okay, now close your mouth,” your lips wrapped around it. you looked up to him for reassurance, he breathed heavily in response. you think that meant you were doing a good job. “you can move a bit, if you want,” he spoke through gritted teeth, but it only turned you on more. you moved your head lightly, taking as much as you thought you could before coming back up for air. “spit on it, y/n, get it all wet, you’ll be able to take more.”

“fuck, jungwon, it’s so big,” you repositioned it back in your mouth, drooling on it, leaving your hand on his shaft for support. encouraged by a groan from the boy, you carried on sucking. his free hand took your own from his cock and held it by his side, interlocking your fingers together.

“this feels so good, y/n,” getting carried away, he thrusts gently. you’re taken aback, he notices your pace slows almost to a stop. “oh, i’m so sorry, was that too much? i didn’t even think, ugh,”

you begin sucking again, you can’t even respond to his apology, you just want his cum. unable to hold back, he thrusted again, only this time, you leaned into it. his grip on your hair got tighter and his thrusts got harder, your lips became less pursed and your throat started to make gagging sounds. jungwon was fucking your face. just like you’d wanted.

you placed your free hand on his thigh, slowing him down as your throat felt more and more used. your lips tightened around him again and your head bobbed deeply, adding a little bit of a swirling motion. under your touch, you felt his leg begin to shake.

“fuck, y/n, im cumming,” he announced, letting go of your hand in favour of pulling his dick from your mouth and covering your upper lip and nose in cum. he seemed a little dissatisfied. his dick dragged the cum down and across your lips, parting them slightly as your tongue grazed his tip again. “you’re like, incredible at giving head, y/n,” he admitted, panting as he watched over you, a slight hunch to his posture.

“i never doubted it,” you chuckled, taking a tissue from his bedside table and wiping your face. “but i should probably clean this off before your flatmates realise we haven’t been studying all this time.”

he extended a hand to help you off his bed, laughing with you, “don’t worry, they’ve been wanting this to happen almost as much as i have.”

#jungwon #enhypen #enhypen smut #jungwon smut #enhypen imagines #jungwon imagines #yang jungwon

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wynnyfryd · 2 months

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💖 2024 Steddie Fic Recs 💖

@thefreakandthehair and i were talking about how so many of the fics we can name off the top of our heads are from right after the show came out because we were still actively making rec lists back then, so:

in no particular order i present to you an incomplete list of fics i love that were published or completed within the last two months

short fics (<10k)

Found God In A Tomato by @beetlesandstarss 5.7k | rated M | fluff, text fic

syrupy sweet strangers to first date fic. without spoiling anything, eddie is a flustered cutie and steve is a fuckin' menace who's lucky he's so hot

he tightened he grip by @steddieas-shegoes 1.3k | rated E | crack not treated remotely seriously

Mickala beloved your commitment to the bit makes me wanna commit myself to you 💍

Slide It In by gayhandshake 1.8k | rated E | multimedia crack

another truly impeccable work of crack fic, i laughed so hard at the first image that i made it the icon for my private discord server

what's that sound? (there's a funny man at my door) by @jewishrat420 4.8k | rated M | spicy six text fic

laughed out loud at this fic so many times i really don't know what else to tell you. as a matter of fact, i went to look at my bookmark note to see what else i had to say about it when i read it, and my note just says "fucking hilarious i laughed out loud like 6 times" 💀 did not do not will never know what else to tell you except that the phrase "the goyim of gender" just randomly pops into my brain once every four or so days now

medium fics (10-20k)

In the Kitchen or the Tulips by @teddywesworl 44k | rated E | telepathic soulmate AU

this fic said "watch me flip this trope inside out like a freshly cubed half of an avocado" and then DELIVERED. i finished this fic and then stared at the side of my husband's head for long enough that he looked over and went "wtf are you doing" lmao hush baby i am contemplating the implications

they're going to send us to prison for jerks by @greatunironic 16k | rated E | social media AU

okay firstly the premise of this fic is so specifically and delightfully unhinged; love that i'm not the only one who looks at a random tiktok account and manically whispers to myself "there's a fic in there somewhere." secondly the execution is a 10 outta 10 outta 10 outta TEN

long fics (50k+)

Sneaky Link by @morningberriesao3 152k | rated E | onlyfans au

the sex is HOT the boys are dumb as goddamn ROCKS what more do you need? oh, what's that? you do need more? sick because this fic also has: the tags "cum slut eddie munson" and "everyone is gay (because i say so)", chrissy the homophobe slayer being the cutest little spy, and jason getting his ass whooped, like, spiritually. on a spiritual level. physically unharmed but that boy's soul is missing teeth do u understand what i am saying

podfics!

it was love, love alone read by @reena-jenkins 21min | rated E

am i technically reccing my own fic on my own fic rec list? you bet your sweet ass i am, i don't even care how tacky that is reena's performance is hilarious and deserves to be listened to at least 40 more times while doing the dishes

relax (lay it back) read by @flintandfuss 1hr 10min | rated E | yogi dom steve x sub eddie

listen if i'm already being gauche then i gotta include my internet wife's belated birthday present to me, like i gotta. morally and lustfully obligated.

Schiava by @teddywesworl read by aheada_lettuce 1hr 30min | rated E | kas!eddie AU

said it once already today and i'll say it again, i cannot believe one of the best reading voices i've ever heard belongs to a person i mentally refer to as fucking lettuce LOL anyway this read is incredible and i have listened to it Times(tm)

and lastly, if you want more recs (like, 348 more specifically), you can browse my full list of public st bookmarks here

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fic recs #i'm still playing catch up on tbrs from 2023 so don't have a ton of new fics to rec just yet but these are all excellent i promise <3 #steve harrington #eddie munson

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dev1lm4n · 9 months

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lesson two: tease

ko-fi | series masterlist (5 out of 7)

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: tension is on the rise between you and mr. miller. wicked fantasies hadn't posted for an entire month! desperate, you decided to get even more bold with your requests and he had no difficulty in complying.

word count: 4.8k

warnings: explicit (18+), set in 2013, pre-outbreak, age gap (joel in mid 30's and reader in early 20's), inexperienced but not dumb reader, blowjob, f masturbation, check umbrella warning on series masterlist

notes: tension is literally on the rise! the vase is about to crack, but tonight he decides to indulge. fellas if you enjoyed this do COMMENT, REBLOG or buy me a KO-FI ;) love y'all

Broad shoulders.

During the time when you simply saw Mr. Miller as a figure in your lewd fantasies, you knew that it was the roughness of his build that attracted you. There’s a certain market for it; for women and men alike who enjoyed those who're built like burly vikings straight out of a movie. Those who enjoy men with a slight plumpness on their front, those who salivate over their strong and reliable arms, those who strive to caress their calloused fingers and press kisses onto their rigid knuckles. You’ve never confessed this to anyone - mostly terrified for their reserved judgment over the topic - but you fit perfectly in that box. Time after time, you wonder if it’d feel nice, if you could just press your nifty fingers into the coils of his muscles, if he’d let out a groan.. a moan perhaps from the sensation.

Rough fingers.

After spending two minutes staring intensely at his sturdy, slightly hunched build, you finally gathered enough courage to summon yourself into the kitchen. God, he looked so good just washing the dishes. His already calloused fingers didn’t have to worry about the damage those cheap dish soap does, because if anything, it’d just make it better. More ridges means more texture and more texture feels better. Two of his fingers entered the soapy lining of his mug, spreading the cleaning product into every crack and crevice. It looks a little erotic, you decided. Your filthy mind conjured up altered scenarios which implemented the same motion. You’d be on top of the cold countertop, various kitchen gadgets set aside as his fingers delved into your cunt. He’d spread your wetness the same way he did to the mug.

Thick mustache.

He took notice of your presence. He watched you and you allowed him, even if he did so wordlessly. Water continued to spill out of the faucet. It hit the empty bottom of the sink and sprouted upwards in a gauche manner, effectively wetting his gray shirt in blotches and dots. You breathed out what could pass as a dry chuckle and in return, he quirked his lips. A grin. A youthful one that almost made you forget of his crow’s feet and faint lines. His thin upper lip almost disappeared as it was tugged on both sides, but the dark hair on top remained pristine. It was thick, you concluded. Not as thick as Uncle Tommy’s, but thick enough that he’d get marinara sauce on it every pasta night. Thick enough that you wonder what it’d be like to have it graze your sensitive pelvis.

Fuck, he’s hot and you’re unreasonably horny.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he parroted back, only with the help of that damned nickname he’s stamped onto you.

Crunch

You bit into the red apple you found during your little scavenging trip into his refrigerator. The sound broke whatever trance he had placed you under. With those eyes of yours, pupils rounded and lashes batted, it was a dangerous game you’re playing. When had you gotten so shameless towards Mr. Miller? Perhaps it’s when he touched you in an irrevocably pleasurable way, or perhaps it’s when he hadn’t posted a video for an entire month. He missed his posting schedule, two whole weeks post-’Dirty Fridays’, and it’s severely messing with your head. You’ve always been a good viewer. Always being content with what he had put out and would never harass him for more, but it’s been a long month repeating the same 13 minute long video.

You’re bound to get restless.

“Didn’t see you come home yesterday.”

“I was busy.”

Crunch

With other girls? In that trailer studio of yours? The question sat on the tip of your tongue. A breath away from being exposed into the dense air. You turned to lean your lower back onto the edge of the countertop, eyes still trained on his as you hitched yourself atop the smooth surface. Your fingers grazed the squared edges, just to keep you occupied while you dug under the surface of his browns. You wondered what he was so busy with - wondered what’s going on behind the tightly knitted cloak of guise he wore, wondered what he thought of you after his little lesson. He wasn’t a shy one. Mr. Miller stared back into your pupils. His chest raised and lowered with every blink he took.

You swallowed nervously.

“Workin’ doubles,” he cracked. “I ain’t sharin’ the job with anyone other than Tommy.”

“Is that so?”

“You think I’m lyin’?”

Crunch

You couldn’t read him. You’ve never been able to. There’s just a huge boulder sitting behind those irises, one that’s blocking you from understanding him even further. It’s not like it’s your business anyway. You’re content with spending your downtime with Sarah; screaming your hearts out to Taylor Swift’s I Knew You Were Trouble on the radio, painting each others’ nails, and making the ultimate pancake with chicken. You’re content with just watching him through his videos, reimagining those situations with the new knowledge you’ve acquired from him. You’re content with standing at a distance from him. So, it wouldn’t be logical to get all protective over him. What are you? His crazy ex-girlfriend?

“How’s Sarah?”

“Great,” you mumbled, mouth still half full. “Taught her fractions yesterday. Swear she’s getting smarter than me.”

“How’s Simon?”

Crunch

Things with Simon, surprisingly, went on smoothly. After that mediocre dinner, where you proceed to let Mr. Miller finger you afterwards in order to introduce you to the new world of sex, you’ve exchanged a few messages and a few perfectly appropriate photos. It’s been awhile since you actually put any effort into trying to get into a relationship, due to work loads and a special dependance towards a pornstar, but it’s much better than you expected. He’s a nice boy. He would treat you right if you gave him the chance to, but you couldn’t help but think that you’re doing all this out of spite. Doing this to show off how capable you are to Mr. Miller, to busy yourself off those plaguing thoughts of him.

“Simon’s doing okay. Fine. He took me for ice cream after my classes yesterday.”

“Offered you a ride, right?”

“Yup.”

He taught you well.

“You’ve done it with him then?”

Your heart clenched.

“Done what?”

“What I taught you.”

Why is he so candid about the entire ordeal?

It was like being held at gunpoint. You watched his eyes, then found it to be too oppressive so you looked down to meet his wet hands. He had finished washing all the plates and cutleries from the breakfast you and Sarah made, though his thick fingers still gripped onto the edge of the metal sink, wet and dripping. You looked up once again, trying to find a part of him that doesn’t make you all jittery and awkward.

“Yes.”

Your lie must’ve been undetectable since you quickly caught on to how his brows tangled and unraveled, a habit of his you’ve picked up recently, signaling that he’s processing the information and giving it a good thought.

“Was it as good?”

Crunch

You nodded surely with a mouthful of tangy apple. There’s no way you could get away with lying so blatantly the second time so you decide the nod would affirm your position better instead of scramble it. He cocked his head to the side, arrogant as always, with some sort of interest in his eyes. You could just tell something foul was about to come out of those sharp tongue of his, when all of a sudden, a clatter sounded out from beyond the window. Both of you turned your heads in sync, following after where the presumable source was. There he was. Tommy in all of his youthful glory. One of his jean legs drenched and beside him was a metal bucket, laying pitifully with its contents poured out onto the sidewalk. He was cursing. A garbled mess of English, while he soothed his pained arse.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

He let out a sigh as he finally tore his gaze away from you to wipe his hands onto a kitchen rag.

“Gotta get goin’,” he whispered hurriedly, fingers running down his messy hair to smooth them down. “You need anything, sweetheart?”

You shook your head no and he took it as a cue to leave the premises. He rushed to pick up his phone from the dining room table, eyes fleeting to find his wallet right after.

“Hey, Mr. Miller.”

He turned his head to meet your eyes.

“You busy tonight?”

Dinner had always been a lonesome affair for you.

Back when you still live in your parents’ cluttered mishmash of a house, you’d always opt out of family dinner. Not because you weren’t particularly fond of your mother’s cooking, her one pot recipes will still remain nostalgic in your head despite time, but more because you’d rather not indulge in petty arguments. They’d always argue. Your mother would flash you that look of hers, silently demanding you to stay on her side when it comes to dealing with your father’s frequent misdemeanors. He’d complain about the tiniest bits of things. If the lettuce was too wilted or if you were wearing too much makeup. He’s an ass, sure, but it’s not like your mother’s planning to abandon him anytime soon. They’re conjoined at this point. Even when it’s massively unhealthy, especially for spectators like you.

In Mr. Miller’s home, oftentimes, you’d put together an edible meal for the entire family. Mr. Miller was a hard worker, according to the accounts that he made, so it’s not rare that you’d have to fry up sausages and whip mashed potatoes together for Sarah. It’s not as if he made it your responsibility. He’d encourage the two of you to order take outs or phone in the pizza place, but that couldn’t be good for Sarah’s growth or his own pocket. And as much as you’d like to deny it, you’re growing way too fond of the Millers.

But it’s been far too long since you crossed path with Mr. Miller. Far too long that you might’ve forgotten what his natural musk after a long day smelt like. Far too long that you might’ve forgotten how heavy his boots were as it dragged across the tiles. Far too long that you surely misses him.

You’re nervous.

Unreasonably so when the promise you’ve made with him was simply for dinner. Nothing less or more. Just dinner. Was the invitation you gave him.. too much? Was it too flirty? Was it silly to think that he might’ve entertained the little show you put out? The desperate stares and chewed lips, you’re undeniably begging for attention. Begging for him to pay attention to you, see what you’re made out of, doesn’t he want to unravel you more? The audacity you have was laughable.

How pathetic, you thought.

Just like clockwork, Mr. Miller showed up right after your self-deprecating cycle. Right after all that flirty and playful energy got brutally murdered by common sense. Right after they were buried in a graveyard of mistakes and what was left was simply the putrid scent of shame. Your head perked up expectantly. As if the mere sight of him in his work uniform, a combo of worn-out flannel shirts and dark-washed jeans, would cure you of exhaustion. Mr. Miller came barging into the hallway. His thumb and index finger diligently massaged the tall bridge of his nose, eyes closed and nose flared from breathing too hard. Your eyes finally made its rounds to where his free arm was propped up on his waist. Sleeves rolled to where it was physically impossible to roll them higher.

He didn’t look like he was in the best of moods.

And somehow.. somehow it excites you.

“Hi, how are you?” you spoke stiffly as if you’re one of those supermarket cashiers, posture straightening upon his arrival.

“Not good,” he replied gruffly.

Mr. Miller made his way to you. He appeared to be the same height and stature as he’s always been, but for whatever reason, he looked a lot larger. As if he could bite and tear you into chunks of flesh if he truly desired to. His movements were staggered. Each step seemed to be more and more of a hassle to him. He had this.. frown on his face. You could even call it a scowl. Forehead waved with folds of worries, lips tightened into an irritated pull as he finally settled down across from you. This new side to him made your limbs limp and your heart spasm. A squeeze each time his narrowed eyes met yours.

“Everything.. okay?” you mused out.

“Just a bunch of shit piling up,” he reasoned, looking down to meet the plate you carefully crafted for him. “Nothin’ to worry your pretty little head.”

The plate’s cold, boiled asparagus hardened and packaged chicken dried, but he didn’t even consider complaining. His brown eyes took in the effort you gave, a brief sheen of guilt glazing those pretty eyes of his before he picked up his fork and spoon. You watched him with care. His every move calculated and drilled deep into your head.

“Sarah asleep?”

“Mhm. I bored her to death with trigonometry,” you chuckled lightly. “She’s okay. Just.. she’s been asking for you. Asking me why you’re always home late.”

Joel’s eyes perked up from the plate. He met your eyes, but it almost felt like he’s looking right through you, over your head to where he could contemplate his decisions. You knew this just from looking, but Joel Miller had a fear of not being a good parental figure. Sarah only had one and he’s barely ever home. That sort of thought festered over him and took over any sort of inhibition. Any sort of clear thinking, that he’s doing all these side jobs to help support her further in life, that it was all for her. Mr. Miller beats himself up too much, but it’s not like you had any right to intervene. You watched as he indulged in the asparagus, seeing how it’s grown cold enough to feel like metal rods when bitten into. He chewed on it with a solemn expression, a curl between his brows.

“Sorry for putting you through this, sweetheart,” he hummed. “I could.. should actually hire help.”

You waited a beat.

“You’ve been doing me too much favor. It’s not.. right.”

“Don’t need to.”

“Why?”

“Always happy to help.”

“But-”

“It’ll cost you too much for help. You’d be sleeping at your job if that happens.”

He could easily earn up to thousands if he gave into the temptations and started working for a mainstream adult film company. One that’s easily recognized from its corny storylines and cringy high-pitched over-the-top moans. Mr. Miller would be a hit, you’re sure of that. Mainstream porn only requires two things when it comes to male actors: a pretty reasonably-sized cock and charisma. Both in which he had under his belt. If he weren’t so particular with the actresses he chose, the angles in which he filmed, and the routine in which he performed in, perhaps he wouldn’t have to beat himself up to skin and bones. You leaned your cheeks onto the palm of your hands as you watched him devour his dinner.

“I need a favor.”

His fork paused.

“But you- well, you’ll laugh.”

He looked up. The crinkles beside his eyes seemed a lot more prominent, as if he’s thoroughly entertained by your youthful silliness.

“What is it? Somethin’ for Simon is it?”

He’s spot on and it’s making you shrink.

“What?” he chuckled gruffly. “You gonna ask me to teach ya how to blow a guy? Oh.. or how to hang him up in ribbons?”

You looked away, awkwardly scratching your elbow.

“Fuck. I’m spot on, am I? Didn’t take you for a kinky gal.”

“No! God, no,” you looked at him, horrified. “Not the latter.”

“The former then?”

“The former.”

The former. You couldn’t bear to wait for his delayed answer. It’s shameless for you to be asking a second time, but you couldn’t help yourself. You’re pent-up, desperate, and he’s your porn star crush forfuckssake. You stood up from where you’re seated. Your gaze was averted completely, to the point where it’s tilted at an uncomfortable angle to shuffle away from his attention. It’s better to sleep it off. Then maybe you’d act like all this didn’t happen the next day. Sarah’s going to be around for breakfast, so he’d surely keep his mouth in check and draw his way out of this. Wouldn’t he.. would he-

“Hey, hey slow down.”

You felt a hand stop you. His grip was tight, possibly bruising if you were to retaliate any other way. It was still hard to meet his eyes, especially when you had to make the special effort to tilt your head up in order to meet his searing gaze. You waited instead, letting him hinder you of any movements as you stared intensely into his flannel-cladded chest. What was he going to say? Is he going to call you up for your perverseness? Was he-

“I’ll do it.”

“What?”

“I said I’ll do it.”

His voice clambered in the chambers of your heart. Masculine, thick with an inch of Southern bass, he took hold of your other hand with those thick fingers of his. This was different from your first lesson. He looked much more.. impatient. A bit of a rough edge when it comes to handling you, a pretty little thing that’s too brave and forward for your own good. His scent, fragments of wood and a taste of clean laundry, permeated the thick air around you. You inhaled him. All of him for the first time in a very very long week. He released the steel grip he had around your wrists and traced it over the rough outline of your body. Up, up, up, until he reached the span of your shoulder. Your breath hitched. All you could feel in your heart was a repeating desire for himhimhim.

He pushed you down slowly, guiding you to lower yourself before him. Right until your knees hit the freezing linoleum tiles beneath his feet. What were you doing? Is it the right decision to fall back into the same old mistake?

“Have you ever practiced on anything before?” he chuckled, almost demeaning in a sense. “A banana or a hairbrush perhaps?”

You shook your head no. All you could see was his dirty jeans, stained of dry concrete and paint.

He brought his rough fingers down to graze against your chin, tilting it upwards so that you’d face him. His eyes were dark, hooded, and trying its best to conceal its obvious amusement. Your chest heaved up and down. Nervous of what he’s about to do next.

“Let’s practice first, ‘kay, sweetheart?” he muttered.

Mr. Miller brought his other pair of fingers next to your face, cradling it with such reverence. He swiped your lips. Bottom then top, only to delve inside your mouth to wet it with enough lubricant. He’s initiating it. His little routine. The older man brought two of his fingers, his index and middle, before he inserted it slowly into your wet cavity. Slowly. Achingly slow. He made sure that you’re comfortable with just a knuckle deep before he proceeded to push in further until the tips sat at the very beginning of your tongue. It wasn’t a familiar feeling like rubbing your clit. You struggle not to gag, or to whimper at the sheer lewdness of the scene unfolding.

“Ah, what a smart girl,” he mused. “Lay your tongue flat for me.”

Your clammy palms fell helplessly atop your smooth pajama pants, gripping on the cotton everytime it felt like too much. His thick fingers separated to make the girth much larger, preparing you for what’s to come. It’s almost as if you could taste him. Taste the natural scent Mr. Miller has around him at all times, taste the carnal desire he held for this. You knew he wouldn’t openly admit it, but this time, it truly looked like he’s looking forward to ripping your innocence away. All his feigned affection stretched thin as you obeyed him perfectly. Tongue flat on the base of your mouth, you breathed in through your nose as best as you can.

“That boy wouldn’t like it if you’re sharp with your teeth,” he muttered as he pulled his fingers away. A string of saliva connected the tip of his wet fingers to your slacked jaw. Oh, how vulgar. Your tight entrance twitched and throbbed inside your panties. Arousal started to wet the thin material, painting dark circles that contrast with the bright color. You were heaving, panting from the sudden increase of oxygen. “So no teeth, keep your tongue flat, and breathe through your nose.”

“You got that, sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, Mr. Miller.”

“Alright. Would you like me to take my pants off or do you wanna try it yourself?”

You looked up at the tempting prospect. He gave you a little nod, affirming that you indeed had the upper hand to the situation. And just like that your hands were quick to get on the perimeter of his belt. You loosened the leather from its metal confines, slowly pulling it away from the hook before leaving it. The leather hung from where his two front loops were located. Meekly, you looked up once more as your soft fingers felt his buttons up. He hissed through his pursed lips, a good reaction you assume, as you slowly unbuttoned the main button. You were confident enough now to tug away at his zippers. Step one was completed, you’ve successfully opened him up like a Christmas present.

But.. what’s next?

“What do I do next?”

“What do you think you do?”

You reached out for the waistband of his briefs, but you were quickly met with a little slap on the back of your hand. Not a hurtful one. Just a little reminder.

“It’s best if you get him worked up first so he’s fully hard when you’re ready,” he whispered. “Why don’t you press some gentle kisses on it?”

You hummed in agreement, before you did as you’re told. Even with the dim lighting of the dining room, you could see clearly where the outline of his cock is. It’s semi-erected, you deduced. You’ve seen him in all his glory to the point where you could calculate how much more he could grow. Gently, you closed the gap between you and those pair of briefs he’s wearing. Your mouth was hot and warm in contrast to the cold air, so when you finally pressed a kiss on top of his clothed shaft, his cock twitched immediately. You could feel it and see it too in certain lighting. Encouraged, you press even more kisses on each and every spot, slowly building up the desire until you reach the leaking tip. You nuzzled your nose close. It smelled like him, salty with a tinge of masculine musk.

This turned you on so much that you inevitably grinded your bottom towards the cold tile. Nothing was there to satiate your throbbing core, just a short term burst of pleasure.

“Shit, sweetie,” he hissed. “I think you’re ready.”

With haste, you quickly tugged on his waistband. You didn’t expect for his length to pop out that quickly, the startled reaction you had was proof of that. He looked.. pretty. Blushed beige with a ruddy tip that's covered. It’s a little silly that that’s the first thing that came to your mind, but it’s the truth. You’d never guess that you could get this up close. Eye level to the cock you’ve been fantasizing about, where you could practically see each and every one of his veins. You didn’t say one word. Instead, you settled on observing the new interest. Your one finger went up curiously to touch the white substance that’s pooling up top. Sticky, you thought. Out of curiosity, you stuck the lone finger down your throat. Salty was the next thought in line.

“Didn’t expect you to taste it,” he chuckled.

You simmered in the sudden embarrassment.

“What’s next? Should I just put it in my mouth?”

“You could.”

“There’s another way?” you peered up curiously.

“Well,” he hummed. You watched as his finger pried your lips open once more, urging you to stick out your wet tongue. “You could make a show out of it. Look me in the eye and lick me slowly.”

You quirked your eyebrows as if unsure if this will work. You’ve never taken yourself as a ‘sexy’ person. Will this even work? To get rid of those plaguing thoughts, you decided to take a leap of faith. You stuck your tongue out more and slowwwwly dragged it along his salty length. You made sure to keep your eyes on his, watching his every micro reaction to decide which one pleased him more. This is supposed to be about Simon! Why are you.. seeking for his validation? On instinct, you pulled the hooded skin back to reveal his furiously red tip. You laughed nervously before you experimentally sucked on it. The wet warmth instantly had him buck up into you, a strained groan following suit.

“Oh shit,” he cursed. “You’re doing good.”

Getting confident, you decided to suckle on it a little more. It tasted a lot more intense than what you’ve tasted of him, but it wasn’t bad at all.

“You think you could take more, sweetheart?”

You nodded before letting his length infiltrate your mouth even more. The end touched the back of your throat ambitiously before you had to pull back and set yourself onto his sensitive tip once more. It wasn’t as easy as his co-stars are making it seem. There was a rhythm in which you have to master, a balance of push and pull so that you don’t gag at the intrusion. His soft groans were heavenly. You didn’t get to hear much of it the first time around, but now it’s all you could think of. You can’t take it anymore! You just had to touch yourself.

“Shit, you’re a dirty gal, are ya?” he chuckled. “Had to touch yourself to this?”

You cried out a muffled moan. It was all too familiar. The way in which you slipped your hand into your pants, shuffling between the layers of panties to rub at your clit. You were already drenched with need. Strings of arousal webbed between your fingers as you rubbed figure eights all across the sensitive patch of nerves. You’re losing track of the rhythm and Mr. Miller took notice of that. He was kind enough to lead you. His fingers slotted perfectly behind the crown of your head, guiding you in a pace you could tolerate.

“Perfect mouth for little Simon,” he degraded.

Mr. Miller’s large hands continued to move you at a certain pace. The time slot left for you to gather your breath tightened and it’s almost like you could pass out from the lack of oxygen. But it felt too good. He tasted too nice. You’ve got his cock in your mouth and it’s spurting out tangy liquid goodness onto your tongue, what else can you ask for?

You continued to grind onto the palm of your hand, desperate enough to not think of how shameless you looked. So slick, your fingers let out a lewd pop everytime it dipped inside of you. Usually you weren’t fond of vaginal penetration by yourself, but the thought of having his cock inside of you left you rabid. This was supposed to be about Simon, is it not?

“You wanna know what a real man tastes like?” he mused out lazily.

You nodded desperately. Mr. Miller held your head tight against his pelvis. Your nose grazed against the coarse dark curls he had as he twitched inside of you. You continued to slick the pads of your fingers against yourself. An entire week of masturbation being combined into one as you felt that familiar pressure build in your stomach. A coil waiting to be snapped.

“Sh- shit.”

Mr. Miller broke first. He hunched slightly as he rode his orgasm out. You could see how his legs trembled and his hips bucked himself even further down your throat.

There it was. The salty trace you tried earlier came in big spurts down your throat, only when you couldn’t fit more did it start seeping out your mouth. It dribbled down the gaps between his softened cock and your aching mouth, stripes of white just trickling down vulgarly. You moaned into his cock, wetting the flimsy material of your panties. A combination of the scent his cock gave to the familiar rubs to your clit had you seeing stars. You knew for a fact that the linoleum tiles would be soaked with your juices when you come up to your feets.

This isn’t a problem anymore, it’s a catastrophe.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller #tlou #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us #tw age gap

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ackerifle · 6 months

Note

Hello! Can you please do a scenario where reader comes to help Levi do paperwork in his office and he offers her some tea. She doesn't think much of it and drinks the tea, but soon starts to feel dizzy before going unconscious. The next day, she wakes up in his bed, naked, and wrapped in his arms.

paperwork date!

yan. captain levi ackerman x fem vice captain. reader

+ CW. — abuse of power & authority, drugging, slight gaslighting, implied: rape/non-con & somnophilia.

you are starting to believe that captain levi’s office is becoming yours with how often you spend your time there. even your fellow special operations squadmates tease you for your absence now that you’ve taken on the new — and quite precarious — position as vice captain. although you have yet to find a plausible reason as to why the captain promoted you in the first place, let alone allowed your entry into his meticulously handpicked squad. and coincidentally, you simply cannot recall the last time you had a break from captain levi’s overbearing presence, and his room, since becoming his vice captain.

oftentimes, at this late hour in the evening, it is you who brews and brings tea for captain levi— per his request, that is, and for whatever godforsaken reason that he has yet to divulge, but who are you to defy orders? the first day you had been requested to his office to assist with the arduous hours of labor that was completing paperwork, you had thought to prepare some tea. it was meant to be a kind, one-time, gesture of reassurance and camaraderie from your end. but now you fear that your captain’s become rather spoiled, as the second time around when you had showed up empty handed, he looked far from pleased.

so alas, you come to a standstill in front of his office’s door. pitch perfect posture, not a thread misplaced on your uniform, and hands settled onto the handles of a small silver platter tray. your eyes absentmindedly drift to the contents atop the salver: a ceramic teapot that is far too nice to have been found in the survey corps, two matching cups and saucers of the same lavish set, a dainty teaspoon, a creamer, and a bowl for sugar cubes accompanied by sugar tongs; and even though you know quite well that he doesn’t utilize the latter two dishware, you are adamant about keeping them for formality's sake. but you can’t help but feel that you’ve neglected to include something in the assortment.

due to your hands being held hostage by the tea that captain levi was so persistent on you delivering, you clear your throat to announce your arrival, “sir, it’s vice captain name.” he doesn’t entertain your salutation with a response of his own, but rather, gauchely slams open the door with concerning haste. you dwell on the fact that it was just too fast, even for someone of his caliber, almost inhumanely so, and it makes you speculate if levi was stationed right at the entrance, waiting for you.

levi’s expression is unreadable, but his frown is apparent as ever. he’s blocking the doorway with his body, one hand holding the door at arms length, and the other pointing inside the room towards the desk at the center of his office, “you, inside. now.” his voice is stern, addressing you as if he were reprimanding you for insubordination. it causes you to grimace, but you know better than to test levi’s last nerve.

you step inside, cautious as to not tip over any of the cups, or cause the tea you had spent such a fastidious amount of time brewing to overflow out past the flange of the teapot. hurriedly and heedfully all in the same, you navigate your way to the guest-side front of levi’s desk, avoiding the chair and stacks of paperwork in your way; and you are beyond attentive whilst lowering the silver plate down until it is completely flat on the table. you don’t release your white knuckled grip on the handles until you see the contents on the platter tray have stopped trembling. had you not been so immersed in your soundless struggle to appease levi’s strict cleanliness standards, you would have picked up on the sound of the door being locked.

sighing softly, relieved, you slump your shoulders and pull the chair beside you by its crest rail, wincing when it scrapes against the floor and creating an obnoxious screech in retaliation, before taking a seat. levi enters your line of vision from the left, and you flinch when he cuts unnecessarily close to you, enough for you to feel his uniform’s coat brush past yours, but not enough to feel his body beneath it. a scowl instinctively makes its way on your face, one that you cannot hide, and you’re thankful he didn’t catch it, faced away from you entirely. levi swivels his heel with sharp precision once he’s stood on his side of the desk, standing in front of his chair, but he doesn’t sit.

there is a pair of inkwells on the desk, wedged between the piles of untouched documents, and you take hold of the one that still has its lid sealed on. near to the opened inkwell are a couple of feather pens, one is in rough condition, and two seem untainted by the ink and whatever iron grip they were unfortunately subjected to for the past few hours. you retrieve the one furthest from the middle of the table, and when it finally dawns on you that levi has still yet to make a move to sit down after a lengthy silence, you hesitantly tilt your head to take a glance in his direction.

he appears in deep thought, concentrated on something beyond your immediate comprehension, until you follow his gaze down to the silver tray. and now that you bring your attention to it, the tea has a delightful aroma to it, and smells as though it’s finally been steeped long enough— “you forgot the strainer.” levi isn’t pointing it out, he’s chastising you.

pesky tea leaves, curse you. perhaps an oversight on your part, the one that you had intuitively sensed earlier but could not place a finger to, but minuscule as a stand-alone mishap. how mean of him, really, it was as if levi was trying to find something he could fault you in. and considering the scrupulous amount of time he took to detect such a minor mistake, he would not be satisfied until he did. you can’t ascertain whether it’s because levi loathes the thought of you doing anything right without his personal interference, or he simply gets a power trip by nitpicking at you. you’re starting to believe it’s both.

“i’m sorry, i can go get one right now—” levi interrupts you, or more fittingly, silences you, without even so much as uttering a word. he takes the handle of the teapot with the two fingers of his right hand, mindful of its fragility, and gathering the teacups together in his left hand. “nonsense, i already have one.”

levi turns his back to you, setting the ceramics atop the dressers lined up on the wall behind his desk. without missing a beat, he locates the drawer containing this supposed strainer with ease, and sure enough, a tiny mesh tea strainer can be seen pinched between his pointer finger and thumb. of course captain levi has this in his office, he may as well have the whole tea set hidden in that drawer, and of course, captain levi can compensate for every single flaw and shortcoming his vice captain has.

his fondness for the craft is evident as he takes it into his own hands to strain the tea for both cups, “sir, i could have done that.” forcing yourself to avert your eyes, as if dismissing the whole (ridiculous) ordeal altogether, aggravatedly setting the closest report down in front of you and skimming the words, “i know.”

levi returns to his seat, this time, he does sit, but not after returning the teapot and teacups to their rightful places on the expertly organized platter, “here.” he lifts one of the cups in that peculiar way that he always does, by the edge of its rim, and extends a hand towards you, “you brewed it, it’d be a shame for me to enjoy all this good quality tea alone.”

reluctantly, you entangle your hands around the handle, impatiently pulling it from his grasp before he can properly let go, and you drink until the teacup is half empty. sparing a passing glance at levi as you carefully set the cup back on its respective saucer, he seems satiated.

falling into routine, the rest of your exchange is done quietly. only the sound of feather pens making detailed incisions on the papers ricocheted throughout the idle office. and perhaps it’s the finely written cursive on the papers, or that it is well past curfew, but your eyelids feel unbearably heavy. it had become increasingly difficult for you to remain upright, slightly swaying in your seat, desperately attempting to regain your composure every time you nearly fall out of your chair. one particularly long blink has you absolutely reeling once you open your eyes, but the feeling of something brushing against your knee has you retaining consciousness instantaneously.

parting your lips with a surprised exhale, your eyes peer down to your legs, but there is nothing out of the ordinary. it must have been the inner side of the desk, the opening that created leg room so two people could sit comfortably across from one another. that sounded far better than accusing your captain of purposefully invading your personal space— seeing as such a thing has never happened before, him intentionally rubbing against your knee with his own, that is. you dismiss the notion altogether, but then it happens again, and this time, it feels like a hand.

“did… did you just touch me?” levi calmly takes his focus off his paperwork, momentarily stilling the movement of his feather pen, “no.” but for some reason, you still doubt him. and levi surmises as much as his eyes narrow, though not with suspicion, but something else that you can’t quite figure out in your delirious state, “are you sure?”

“do you want me to touch you?” he inquires with such sudden seriousness, it catches you off guard. your reaction time has been awful, but you almost immediately blurt out a; “no.” and your response is a little too quick for his liking.

“no?” levi echoes coldly.

no, that is what you recall from your last moments of blurred consciousness, but you can’t remember if you had said it, or levi had. quite honestly, that had become the least of your concerns as soon as you opened your eyes. met with the unforgiving glare of the sun shining through a suspiciously large window that most certainly didn’t belong to your room, you break into a sweat when you inhale the familiar scent of someone else, and you’ve become increasingly aware of how unbearably warm you are. you’ve been stripped bare, and despite being engulfed in a tangle of blankets and sheets, you feel disturbingly exposed. and you know this feeling, one of another naked body pressed against your backside and a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. any move you had initially tried to make was futile, thrashing about to free your own arms from the lock of the other pair, tugging at his wrists and pushing them down with all your might.

it’s startling when the hold around your waist suddenly tightens, as if constricting you out of breath, “you can deny it all you want, but your body loves it when i touch you.” you don’t need to turn and face the man keeping you hostage in his arms because levi’s voice is unmistakable, “it’s about time that i fuck you while you’re conscious anyway.”

#ackerifle #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere attack on titan #yandere aot #yandere aot x reader #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x reader

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rosalynesimp · 11 months

Text

Accident.

Alcina Dimitrescu x Y/N maid.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: flirty, smut, oral sex, fingering

Summary: smutty smut 💦💦

Notes: let me know what you think, please :)

Word count: 2277

“Quick, Y/N. The Lady is waiting.”

It is dinner time and today is your turn to bring Dimitrescu’s family the food. You can feel your palms sweat and you wipe your palms against your apron. Taking a deep breath you grab the tray, that is quiet heavy, walking into the dining room.

Three sisters and Lady Dimitrescu herself sits at the table, waiting for your appearance. Sisters as always start whisper to one another, giggling. Lady Dimitrescu sits patiently, not making any noises.

“Oops!”

Cassandra materializes by your side, tripping you up.

You crash on the floor, shutting your eyes closed as you hear the sound of breaking plates. The tray slides away from you. Everything happened in complete silence. Seemed like your fail was heard through the whole castle.

The sisters burst into laughing, holding their stomachs. Lady Dimitrescu now holds the bridge of her nose, sitting with closed eyes.

You slowly get up, wiping your hands. Three sisters keep laughing at you, making you feel even more embarrassed. How rude. They never miss a chance to make fun of someone.

“Quiet now!”

Lady Dimitrescu shouts.

“But Mother!”

Bela resists, pouting.

“I said my word. Shut it.”

Lady Dimitrescu seems to boil up. Her fists clench and she takes a deep breath before getting up, pushing her chair back. It creaks loudly and she looks down at you. Her eyes shine bright yellow as she cleans her throat.

“Clean the mess, gauche. Make sure the floor is clean, too. Ugh.”

Alcina throws her hands up, her face expression shows disgust. She then kneels before you, holding her dress hem. She leans closer, places her index finger and her thumb on your chin, making you look into her eyes.

“Naughty girl… At my place by 4pm. Prepare yourself.”

She whispers. You look at her with fear in your eyes and nod. Lady Dimitrescu gets up, elegantly kicks the plate with her foot and leaves the dining room. Her daughters fly to you, still laughing hard. They all lean closer, surrounding you. They touch your body and hair, hissing.

“Oh, someone’s gonna get punished!”

“Aha! Mother won’t take pity!”

“You’ll get destroyed, Y/N! Such a loss… You’re so cute!”

They once again burst into laughing and vanish really quick after, leaving you alone with a mess. You collect every broken piece of plates and scattered food. You head off back to the kitchen. As soon as you get there you meet a mistress of maids. She straightaway pushes you against the wall and you drop the tray.

“The hell you arranged there?! Are you out of your mind?!”

She hisses at you, looks directly into your eyes. You stand quiet, feeling guilty even though everything that has happened wasn’t your fault.

«Did you swallow your tongue, Y/N? She’ll murder you!”

The mistress still shouts and then backs away from you. She breathes heavily, crossing her arms on her chest.

“It was Cassandra’s fault. She-“

“Hush you now! Go clean yourself, you brat.”

She spits and you nod, leaving to your room. You change your clothes and sit on your bed, sighing. Why Cassandra did it on propose?

*****

Lady Dimitrescu meets you right in the door way as she walks out of her chamber. She smirks, changing her route, grabbing your arm harshly and pulling you inside her room, shutting the door behind her back.

You look around the room. It is dim lighted with candles around the perimeter. You notice a king-sized bed with lots of pillows on top of it. Lots of bookshelves with quiet… interesting books. You gasp when you hear Alcina’s voice from behind your back. She is so close to your ear that you can feel her cold breath on your skin which makes you shiver.

“Now now… What are we going to do with you, little one?”

She grins, crunches her nose as she takes her long cigarette holder. Alcina sits at her vanity, crossing her legs. She faces you and takes off her hat, putting it aside. You’ve never seen her without her accessory and she looks… gorgeous even without it.

“Come.”

She says strictly, her voice is cold. You tremble from the way she talks to you and steps closer slowly, looking under your feet.

“I’m not going to wait forever. Faster.”

She sighs.

You walk closer to her and now stand by Lady Dimitrescu’s side, waiting for her next request. She places her hand on your waist, gently pulling you on her lap. You could feel the scent of cigarettes and her sweet perfume mixed together. You smile to yourself but your smile quickly fades away as she speaks again.

“Did you wash the floor after what you’ve done?”

Alcina asks, brushing your hair behind your ear. She takes off her gloves, putting them on the vanity.

You sit like that for a while. Lady Dimitrescu holds you close to her, gently running her hands through your hair. It tickles your neck but you can’t move.

“Tell me, Y/N…”

She whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“…What do you expect from your… punishment?”

“I have no clue, ma’am. I guess you’re the one to decide.”

Your reply makes her giggle.

“How sweet.”

Alcina gets up, placing you back on the floor. She walks over to sit on the edge of her bed, pulling her long white dress up to her hips. You couldn’t help yourself but stare at her long pale legs. She looks like she’s a statue made out of porcelain. Surely, she notices your gaze and smirks.

“Don’t be shy, darling.”

She pats her lap.

You come closer to her and she helps you to bend over her lap, your back faces her eyes now. She runs her hand up your inner thigh, gently caressing your soft skin. Alcina pulls up your dress, now facing your bare rear.

‘How beautiful…’ She thinks to herself.

Smack.

One more time.

“You’ve been a bad girl, Y/N.”

You stay quiet with closed eyes. Your ass cheeks burn so hard from her hand.

Another smack.

“I can’t hear you, love.”

Lady Dimitrescu chuckles, stroking your lower back. Her hands are cold and you tremble.

“I wanna hear you beg, little mouse… Don’t disappoint me.”

She whispers in seductive voice against your ear and slaps your butt again. You squeak and she sighs in relief.

“Ahhhh, here we are.”

Alcina slaps you again, now squeezing your rear hard in her huge palm. You let out a quiet moan which makes her grin more. She caresses your ass cheeks, gently spreading your legs apart.

“Hush now, dear…”

Her voice is soothing as she smiles at you. You can’t see her face but you know that hungry look. Alcina run her hand up from underneath your knee to your dripping core, making you whimper. You would be a liar if you say you don’t like it.

“My… What do we have here?”

She murmurs, stroking your core through your soaked panties, giving more attention to your clitoris. She moves your panties aside, gently spreading your folds with her fingers which are coated with your juices now. You moan. Lady Dimitrescu lets out a sigh of pleasure, gently picking you up bridal style and throwing you on the bed. Your head hits the giant pillows and you drown in her silk bedsheets that smell like her.

The Lady crawls to you like a beast, showing off her pure white fangs with light strips of saliva dripping down from them. Her golden eyes glow in the dim lit. She watches you opening your legs, your panties completely soaked through. Lady Dimitrescu can smell the scent of yours and it turns her on even more, knowing how needy you are for her. Your chest go up and down fast as you look at the Lady.

“You’re such a dirty girl. Already dripping wet without my permission.”

She speaks through her teeth as she places her hands underneath your lower back, pulling your hips up in the air. You place your feet on her shoulders for stability and she smirks.

“I… Can’t control it, ma’am…”

You whisper and she bites your ankle, licking few drops of blood off your skin. She lets out a quiet moan at your sweet taste before looking at you.

“Mistress from now on.”

You nod slightly at her before Alcina leans closer, pressing her lips against your wet panties. Within a second she rips them apart, staring at your labia. She holds you up in the air with one hand, the other travels down your inner thigh, gently stretching your core with only one finger.

“So tight.”

She murmurs, smirking, earning a loud moan from you.

You feel your body tremble and you gasp as she slowly slides her finger in and out of you. Her fingers were big enough. Alcina moves her finger inside you, touching your most sensitive parts. You moan, arching your back.

“Easy now, little one. We don’t want you to fall, do we?”

Lady Dimitrescu chuckles and leans down, covering your clitoris with her mouth. She licks your dripping core along with her finger moving a bit faster. She moves it in and out again and again, making you moan more. Every stroke sends electricity down your body.

Your sweet sounds are a treat for Alcina’s ears.

Alcina gently places you down on the bed, keeping her finger in you.

“M-mistress…”

You moan.

“Yes, love?”

“Fuck me harder, please…”

You can’t take it anymore. You feel your muscles tightens around Lady Dimitrescu’s finger and she moans herself quietly, taking you by surprise. You open your eyes to look at her. She notices it and slowly, deliberately pulls her finger out before roughly sliding it back inside your cunt, making you scream. It doesn’t hurt due to enough amount of lubricant. She keeps her eyes on you, taking every second of your pleasure. Juices drip down your thighs as you got close to your orgasm.

“Mistress, yes!”

“Louder!”

“Mistress, yes, please!”

She makes few last rough thrusts before you cum all over her finger and palm. She puts her finger in your mouth, letting you taste yourself.

“Make sure it’s clean, Y/N.”

She bends over to you, watching you sucking on her finger and palm. You gasp at your taste and Alcina smirks, licking her lips before smashing them onto yours. Without a second’s hesitation she slides her tongue inside your mouth, making you moan. She lets out a loud moan, too, wrapping her leg around yours. She presses her core against your lap, making you feel how wet she is because of you.

“M-mistress… Let me please you back…”

You mumble between your kisses as you kiss passionately. Alcina pulls away slightly, looking into your eyes.

“Let’s see what you can do with this little mouth of yours.”

She groans, carefully kneeling in front of you, her back facing you.

“Mind helping me?”

She asks as she shows at the buttons on her back. You nod, sitting up to help her get undressed. As soon as you unbutton her white dress, it slips down her shoulders and she turns around to face you, showing off her squishy breasts covered with black lace bra.

You put your hand on her waist, gently squeezing it, making Lady Dimitrescu moan softly.

“Harder.”

She commands and you did as she asked. Your hands trailing down her curves, touching her lace panties. She bites her lip hard, watching you.

“Let me help you, Y/N.”

She cuts off her own panties with her claw and you gasp, backing up a little but she hushes you with her hand on your cheek, caressing it. You look up into her eyes, nodding before laying down. Alcina crawls closer, placing her knees on both sides of your head. You face her dripping cunt and let out a quiet moan, sticking out your tongue and licking off her sweet juices. Alcina moans, tilting her head back.

“Good girl.”

She groans, slightly arching her back and bucking her hips at your mouth. She keeps her mouth opened as she breathes through it. You lick her again, now swirling your tongue around her hard pinkish clitoris. She moans louder this time, slowly thrusting her hips forward and back, riding your tongue.

“You alright down there?”

Lady Dimitrescu asks, making sure you got some of the air and she doesn’t press too hard on you. You moan, slightly pulling away to speak.

“Yes, Mistress.”

She nods, smirking at you as you spread her folds apart, stroking your tongue down to her wetnesses, moving your finger in. She moans once again, placing her hand into your hair, tightening her grip as she keeps your head steady. Alcina buckles her hips, making herself get close to orgasm. Her legs tremble and you’re scared that she’ll eventually fall down on you and smash you dead. Lady Dimitrescu helps herself with moving her weight on her arms that are places on the back of the bed now.

You want to reach for her breasts but they still covered with bra. You let out a sad squeak which makes Lady Dimitrescu look down on you. She notices your gaze and pulls down her lace bra, exposing her pinkish hard nipples. You moan against her core, sending vibrations, making her body shake as she cums hard into your mouth. You make sure you drink every drop of her juices and wipe your mouth with your wrist.

“Such a good girl… You make mommy feel good. I better keep you to myself.”

She smiles widely at you, pulling you closer into a tight hug.

#lady dimitrescu #re8 #lady d #lady dimitrescu x y/n #re8 lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu smut #alcina x y/n #alcina dimitrescu

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penaltyboxboxbox · 4 months

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whats stopping you from posting your omegaverse headcanons my king……do it

truly what is stopping me....ok my omegaverse assignments under the damn cut and honestly thank you to @wewentcarracing my fellow scholar who's own research has DEFINITELY influenced my own

Charles: this bitch is an omega. everyone is in love with him and he smells so good and is distracting to everyone in the damn room. we're going to question his abilities because of it too he will face anti-omega media bias despite the achievements of other omega drivers all of charles mishaps are blamed on the fact hes an omega

Carlos: alpha idc what you contradictory parties wanna say hes a big hairy alpha and hes proud of it. but hes like pretty well managed and likes to act like hes a lot more...idk wild during his ruts and stuff but like in all reality he keeps it together very well but just uses being an alpha as an excuse to hoe around.............is not mated to charles but like wants to be soooooo badly and like the way charles plays around it constantly makes him insanely whipped . as he fucking said it himself he wants to bite charles and has to control himself. ok.

Pierre: i cant decide honestly like sometimes i want him to be an alpha who has no self control and sometimes i want him to be a very ashamed omega. depends on the day and also what i'm assigning for esteban....

Esteban: He is either a beta or a really lame alpha..............i like him being an alpha making him super protective of lance but like THEY DONT LIKE EACH OTHER THAT WAY but like. maybe a little a esteban just too polite to lance to say anything. teehee. omega pierre x beta esteban is goated also. just saying.

Lance: OMEGA.............uses this as an excuse to always be laying down and being sweet and asking people to do things for him :) and they always do. also he has the most sweaty disheveled unwell heats ever and just generally reeks of maple syrup and pancakes

Fernando: alpha and he wont let you forget it. he stank. hes freaky. yeah. talks about it TOO openly. everyones had a taste too like can you blame them. guy who is also like slobbering all over lances neck in public theyre gross about it

George: I loooove George as an alpha who really dislikes the loss of control aspect of alphadom. As the wise sadie one said, george thinks being an alpha is terribly gauche. at the same time has his own cockiness about the fact he IS an alpha like he has his moments there......using his alpha privilege when it suits him but hating it when its not something he can use to his advantage or that might make him act a fool

Lewis: Beta who lets people believe he's an Alpha whos just so mentally in the zone and turbo vegan that he is able to remain in complete control of his urges and emotions. Gets testy when questioned about it its NONE of their business. Definitely does in fact really really want to be an alpha. (nico an omega btw just add this to my brocedes narrative)

Yuki: Alpha and proud of it. He's like writing alpha specific instagram captions.

Daniel: This man is THE beta ok. used to be self deprecating about it but now just embraces it. hes the beta they brought into the enclosure to keep max from becoming insane.

Max: an omega but like. weirdly ravenous one. he is breaking down omega stereotypes but like he's not even trying he's just a weirdo.

Checo: also an omega but hes like a tragically lame one when in heat. like this man is the king of the pathetic heat he wants to be led around by the hand and makes everyone around him feel bad for him. smells like orchids and carnations.

Valtteri: beta who is literally just chilling

Guanyu: reverse lewis, alpha who everyone thinks is a beta and he just lets them, doesn't want people prying into that part of his life. does not have a complex about being an alpha though and being around val keeps him w a cool head yk

Alex: Alpha.......knows he's a good one too like too aware that he'll get the job done and WELL definitely more than a little cocky about it and thinks he generally like. deals with himself well doesn't THINK he lets it get to his head as much as it does. HUGE flirt w like any omega.

Logan: Omega like what do you want me to say he spends every moment wiggling and whimpering and blushing like......hes an omega. he smells like he smells like fresh cut citrus and seawater 🫶😔

Lando: he's an omega but he smells offputting he smells like burnt sugar and monster energy. was like convinced mind body and soul he and carlos were a THING until the chussy lured carlos away and now lando is stuck being a little weird about it for all time he cant quite click w someone else and hes a weird mean little tease because of it

Oscar: Alpha who is soooooooooo incredibly chill about it. You wanna hop on my dick? ah. ok i guess. have at it. like this guy is not pressed about any of this shit

KMag: alpha but i have no strong opinion here i just think hes normal

Nico: alpha who smells terrible to every omega ever and can never find a rut partner and yearns for the hole but he just cant win

bonus seb cause i can: seb is an alpha..obvs w charles duh but ALSO was a freakish little alpha in his younger days who got off on being gross and contradictory + wonderful truly paired with beta mark with his absolutely massive complex about being a beta and snaps at anyone who tries to bring it up in regards to his behavior etc etc etc hotheaded beta and evil twink alpha who goads him about oh fuck me all you want youll never be MEEEEE oh i need it actually. anyways

THANKS FOR READING 🫶

#ask

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acacia-may · 1 year

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Ooo okok for the Romantic requests, if I may, would it be alright for me to request a Grey x Gauche fic with the prompts “I just want to see you happy” and “because I love you” please 🥺? It can be angst or fluffy (or both /lh 👀) whichever is easiest for you 🥰! Sending hugs and love to you 🫂!

Hi Lyra! Thank you so much for sending in your request! I really appreciate your support (and your faith in my ability to write romance 🥺). This was my first time writing Greyche so I really hope I've done them justice here and that you'll be happy with what I've written...

The story is below the cut. Word Count: 1869. Warnings: Grey's social anxiety, but otherwise this is really just fluff with a bit of hurt/comfort (Also a wedding!!) 🥰

“You look so beautiful!” exclaimed Marie with a bright smile as she bustled around Grey with her bouquet of flowers. Blushing, Grey twisted her hands as she looked at herself in the mirror. She could agree that the wedding gown itself was stunning—an unrepayable gift from Vanessa when Grey hadn’t found one she liked while shopping—as was the sparkling bracelet that Noelle had lent her for her “something borrowed.” She wasn’t so sure about herself, however, even though her friends had been up since six that morning helping her get ready.

Even so, she replied in sheepish gratitude to her soon to be sister-in-law, “Thank you.”

“Gauche won’t know what hit him when he sees you in this dress,” Vanessa laughed with a wink as she finished pinning Grey’s veil to her intricate updo.

Grey’s blush deepened. “You…you really think he’ll like it?”

“Oh, honey, he’s going to love it,” said Vanessa before Noelle chimed in.

“You could walk down the aisle wearing a potato sack, and he’d still love it.”

Vanessa playfully rolled her eyes. “Are you really comparing my tailoring to a potato sack?”

Frowning, Noelle bristled. “I just meant that Gauche loves her so much, he would be dying to marry her today no matter what she was wearing.” She sighed before turning to Grey with a smile. “But really you’re stunning—no one will be able to take their eyes of off you.”

Grey swallowed hard. “No one…?” Her cheeks grew warm, and her hands began to shake. Her head was spinning just thinking of a room full of people with their eyes transfixed on only her. “Everyone…everyone is going to be staring…at me…” Something twisted in her stomach. She could almost picture it now—a hundred eyes just waiting for her to do something humiliating or stupid like stumble over her dress on her way up the aisle or mess up her vows or…. “I think…I’m going to be sick…” she mumbled with a gulp.

Noelle and Vanessa immediately helped her ease back into a nearby chair before she lost her balance, and Charmy rushed over with some water and light snacks.

“Oh Grey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you nervous,” Noelle apologized as Vanessa patted Grey’s hand and Marie took the other.

“Everyone gets jitters before their wedding,” said Vanessa with a sympathetic smile. “But you have nothing to worry about—Gauche loves you, and today is about you two starting the rest of your lives together.”

“Vanessa is right, la,” chimed Charmy. “We didn’t even think Gauche could be this happy, and honestly, never really thought this day would come.”

“Charmy!” huffed Vanessa. “Not helpful.”

Charmy shrugged but chuckled, “But the point is that you two love each other, and this is your day. Don’t worry about anybody else.”

Grey swallowed hard. That was easier said than done—especially when an entire hoard of wedding guests would be staring at her and watching her every move. She shook her head. She was so stupid for not having thought about this before. She had worried about so many other things that seemed insignificant now when what she should have been worried about was how she was going to make it up the aisle without getting so nervous she froze in place or transformed into someone else—which she supposed wouldn’t be fair to Gauche, even if he might be better off marrying someone else anyway, someone who wouldn’t be so painfully shy.

“You’re looking green, la. Drink this,” said Charmy handing her a glass of water. Grey took it with a nod, but the idea of drinking anything right now made her stomach churn.

Vanessa stood up from her place beside her. “Don’t worry—this is fixable.” She patted Grey’s shoulder before heading towards the door. “I have an idea of something that might help.”

“Me too!” added Marie taking off after Vanessa.

Despite Charmy, Noelle, and Secre’s best attempts to reassure her in Vanessa and Marie’s absences, Grey merely sunk further and further into her nervousness and pre-wedding jitters. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized to her friends but stopped herself from burying her face in her hands before she ruined her makeup.

“Don’t apologize,” said Secre. “We’re here to support you.”

“That’s what bridesmaids are for, la,” Charmy insisted.

Grey nodded, but before she could respond, she heard voices echoing from the hallway.

“She needs to talk to you right now,” said Marie’s voice very emphatically.

Another voice sighed. “Okay, but aren’t I not supposed to see her before the wedding…?”

Grey’s face flushed an even deeper pink. Gauche. Gauche was here? Marie went to get him? Why?

“Come on, girls, let’s leave them alone for a minute,” said Noelle ushering the other bridesmaids out into the hall. Grey stared at the partially open door—frozen and unsure of what she should do when Gauche knocked on it.

“Grey? Is everything okay in there?”

Grey swallowed hard, wondering if he was going to walk through into the room, but he waited on the other side of the door where she couldn’t see him.

“It’s fine,” she squeaked, but he knew her far too well to believe that—even without the hitch in her voice.

“Are you sure? Do you want me to come in? I’ll close my eyes,” he added dryly.

Grey nodded, before realizing that Gauche couldn’t see her, but it seemed he didn’t have to as he walked through the doorway very slowly with his eyes closed and his arms outstretched in front of him. He looked very debonair in his suit and the little pink flowers in his boutonniere.

“I’m sorry Marie came to get you,” she said when he reached the center of the room. Gauche stopped walking.

��She was worried. I think the other girls are worried too.” He paused. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

Grey swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, I—”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing. You feel how you feel and that’s fine,” he answered matter-of-factly, but there was something kind in his voice that made Grey’s mouth twitch in the corners. “Are you…having second thoughts about getting married?”

“No. Not at all. Never,” she reassured him. “I was just…nervous…because I…”—she paused and gulped—“Don’t you think everyone will be staring at me?”

“Of course, they’ll be staring at you—you’re the bride and also the most beautiful woman in the room.” There was something about how matter-of-fact his tone was when he said it, that made Grey blush. “But you don’t have to pay them any attention.”

“I’m not sure I can do that…” stumbled Grey, and he reached out his hand to her.

“Do you want me to take the attention off you? I could cause some kind of scene or ask Luck or Magna or Asta to do it—they might even cause a commotion without being asked.” He shook his head slightly, but she could see the twitch of a smile in the corners of his mouth as she stifled a laugh.

“You’d do that?”

“I’d wear a clown nose up on the altar if that’s what it would take to get you to marry me,” he said with that dry, deadpan humor of his. “When you walk down the aisle, I just want to see you happy—because I know that it will be one of the happiest moments of my life, and I hope it’ll be one of the happiest moments of yours too.”

“Gauche…” She stopped herself from hugging him—though she desperately wanted to. “You really mean that?”

Nodding, his face softened as did his tone as he continued, “I do. I can’t wait to start my life with you, and that’s what this about. Not some big ceremony or big reception or all the attention—it’s about promising to spend our lives together.” He leaned forward, and Grey moved so he could gently kiss her forehead. “And if you still get nervous, that’s okay—just look right at me, at how happy I am to be marrying you. Pretend we’re the only ones there—like it’s our little corner of the world.”

“Our little corner of the world,” she repeated, and Gauche nodded—gently clasping her hand in both of his and giving it a tender, reassuring squeeze. Grey took a deep breath allowing a feeling of calm to wash over her. Perhaps Marie had been right to get him, had known that there was something about Gauche that helped her feel safe and secure, even confident but, most of all, loved. He couldn’t have been more right—this was about the rest of their lives, and she was so blessed that she would get to spend the rest of hers with him.

“Why do you put up with me?” she asked with a bit of a playful smile.

“Because I love you, you goofball,” he teased dryly squeezing her hand again. “Now do you want to get married or what?”

Even though he couldn’t see her, Grey hoped Gauche could feel her joy as she beamed at him with a confident, “Yes.”

*-*-*

Grey and her bridal party, save Gauche, gathered excitedly—waiting for their procession down the aisle. Grey trembled more with excitement than nervousness now and hugged Marie tightly multiple times, thanking her profusely for getting her brother to help her through her pre-wedding anxiousness.

“It really was the perfect plan, thank you,” she whispered, and Marie smiled brightly at her.

“I’m glad I could help, and I’m glad you’re going to be my sister.” She hugged her again before she pulled away with an inquisitive shake of her head, “But what was Vanessa’s idea?”

Grey’s brow furrowed. In all the excitement, she had completely forgotten that Vanessa had said she had a plan of her own. “I don’t—” she began but stopped. She quickly scrambled to cover her gasping mouth with her hand as Captain Yami walked over wearing a brightly colored, obnoxiously floral-print shirt.

“Ca…Captain…” stumbled Grey as most of the bridesmaid and groomsmen stifled laughter.

“At least not everyone is going to be staring at you now,” quipped Vanessa giving her a pat on the back.

“She made this ridiculous thing,” Captain Yami grunted with a huff and a shake of his head.

“You really don’t have to—” Grey began to insist with blushing cheeks, but the Captain cut her off.

“Only for you, Grey.” He paused and his lopsided grin faded as he glanced over at their companions. “So don’t the rest of you knuckleheads start getting ideas.”

As the music began to play, the Captain linked his arm with hers preparing for their procession. Grey’s heart pounded as they finally moved in front of the doors, and when they finally opened, she realized she had been so foolish to worry. Her eyes found Gauche immediately—he had never looked happier, and as she walked down the aisle, she didn’t even have to pretend that there was nothing and no one else there with them. There really was only him and the look of indescribable joy and love on his face, as if they really were in their own little corner of the world.

#limited edition romance writing event #greyche #answered asks #can acacia write romance? let's see...#answered requests #thank you for the request #black clover fanfiction #grey x gauche #gauche adlai x grey #gauche x grey #marie adlai #gauche adlai #grey (black clover)#thank you for reading!!

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