#I'll give a little hopefully enticing fact about what I'm imagining
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I need someone to ask me about how I think Bill and Feral would interact on my main or I'm going to explode from a back up of unreleased cringe I will draw some stuff for it I promise /silly
#I'll give a little hopefully enticing fact about what I'm imagining#Feral and Bill as cellmates in the theraprism#My anxiety about being an unforgivable amount cringe and my hyperfixation fighting is making me feel physically nautious lol#Why does my brain have to put Feral everywhere i like this torment is unbearable#I know other people likely do it but they don't share it for a reason#My nausea may also be because I haven't slept in ages actually#Or eaten properly#Or drank enough#Damn the hyperfixation is so bad I forget that my awful flesh vessil prison needs sustenance
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Le Goût - Grayson Dolan
summary: as previously discussed, allison arrives at Le Goût the following friday, but she’s not as shy as she seems to be..
a/n: i think this is gonna be one of my favorite parts, even though allison comes across a little bitchy, but I swear she’s not!
UNLIKE most people, Allison had always been overly punctual. She hated when people would show up awkwardly late to an important meeting or event, so she always made it a task to come at least 5-10 minutes early to everything. When she arrived to the famous Le Goût restaurant and saw that the lights were all on and one of the tables were neatly decorated, she couldn't help the sheepish smile that came over her face. The last time she had laid eyes on him, she was in immense pain and agony, but now that was gone, except for the few lingering stitches. She was hoping and praying that he was as equally nice and comforting as he was when she first met him. And ever since the hospital night, she had been pondering restlessly on what the hell his name could be.
With the freshly cleaned shirt, purposely scented with her perfume, squeezed in her hand, she finally exited her homely vehicle and made her way into the very familiar restaurant she could almost call home. As a child, her and her brothers seemed to always be there, playing their childish games and causing a few interruptions with the customers. She loved the restaurant and the family heritage it had, but she rarely ever attends any dinners there anymore. Mainly because she doesn't want to ruin the "special magic" of the place by overly eating there. But tonight was an exception, for mr. nameless, that is.
So when she glided through the front doors, wearing a simple short dress and her heels clicking against the nicely tiled floors, her eyes only landed on the small note placed atop a porcelain white plate right in the middle of the table. Her brows crinkled for a second, her thin fingers reaching out and pinching the thick, cardboard like paper and pulling it up to eyesight level. She then read the scribbled black writing right in the middle;
find me in the kitchen & bring that shirt of mine ;)
— GD
Her smile seemed to stretch all the way to her ears, reading over the sloppy writing again and again before setting it back in its original place. Her hands tightened around the shirt once more before she turns on her heels, walking in the familiar direction of the noiseless kitchen. She pushed the swinging door in slightly, peeking her head in just to see if he was actually there. And just as the note said, he was facing the wall opposite to her, his veiny hands wrapped around a wooden spoon and a skillet full of delicious looking vegetables. She almost scoffed when she recognized that he was shirtless, yet again. Though, she didn't mind it too much, the mere sight of his backside was enough to satisfy her. But that changed when he turned around, his godly face and torso now in her full view, his enticing smile corrupting the entirety of his face, it seemed like.
"I take it you don't like wearing clothes too often?" Her strongly held voice ponders aloud as he fully turns his body to address her, his eyes looking up and down her body in pure amazement and adoration, seemingly the same as he did only days ago. “They shrivel up and turn to dust somehow when I'm around you." He shrugs, her arms being crossed as she finally lets herself grin at his smooth words. "I'd rather not be distracted all night, so here's your shirt you asked for.." Allison unfolds the neatly cleaned white t-shirt, waving it in the air for him to retrieve. The mystery man quickly pivots in his stance and turns the oven's burners off before striding over to her, reaching out for the shirt he had kindly asked for. But before his fingers could grasp the soft cloth, Allison pulled it away and behind her back, a sneakish grin presiding on her plumped lips.
"Name, and I'll give it to you." She pesters, looking up into his eyes that were almost hidden by the rising smirk in his face. He knew that he'd rather not have the shirt at all, or if he did really want it, he could forcefully grab it from her. But he had played his games long enough and was very much ready to hear his own name roll from her tongue. Her sweet sounding voice was lready vocal in his nightly dreams. "Grayson." He keeps his stare, not changing his emotions whatsoever while Allison almost happily sighs. What a dreamy name, right? She couldn't help but feel a bit smaller now, knowing his name for some odd reason. It sounded familiar, she was almost sure Marcus had maybe brought him up in a conversation before, but only briefly.
"Shirt?" He extends his arms out to her, raising his pointy brows in question. "I think I change my mind, I like the view." She winks, quickly refolding the shirt and tucking it under her arm. "That's not fair for me.." He mumbles, blowing a straggling piece of hair away from his beautifully shaped face. Her only reaction is to roll her eyes, his little seductive mumblings always seeming to get to her. He had a bad habit of doing that around her, speaking his sometimes filthy mind when it came to things. Hopefully it wouldn't get too out of hand the longer he hung around her, for his mouth would soon find him in a bit of trouble if he kept it up.
Allison felt so confused and flustered as her body heat continued to rise. She didn't understand how attracted she was for a man she barely even knows. Her mind was like a rollercoaster, doing loop-de-loops around her brain the more she thought about him. And for Grayson, it was ten times harder to keep his hands to himself. He kept imagining endless scenarios that ended with an orgasm for the two, but he shook his thoughts when she effortlessly draped the familiar cloth over his shoulder.
Suddenly, like a burst of confidence within her, she trailed her index finger softly over the protruding bumps of his muscled shoulder, continuing it across the ridges of his upper back and down his indented spine. Grayson's body began to shiver with thrills, her soft touch sending his foggy brain to an unfamiliar euphoric altitude. She studied his flawless backside, taking note of each tiny little freckle or mole that she'd find hidden around the curvatures of his shoulder blades. She continued her flirt-like admiration as she slid her finger up his thick neck and to the fringe of his hair.
Standing up on her tipi-toes, Allison lets her cool breaths fan against his ear before she spoke; "Thank you, Grayson, for the other day.." And with that said, she took a couple steps back and brushed off her ridiculously clean frontside. Grayson was extremely flustered by her sensual actions, his cheeks possibly a tomato red while the "mind of its own" between his thighs began perking upward to her tainting voice. He only turned to look at her when he heard the click of her heels walking in the opposite direction.
"I'm leaving for the restroom, I'll be back in five." She sighs, her excited expressions held back until she fully exited the kitchen and made her way into the pristine bathroom decorated with a luxuric touch.
ALLISON wasn't trying to "get in his pants," but having a bit of dirty fun wouldn't do any harm, right? Well, in Grayson's eyes, it was totally wrong. Her little stunt that she recently pulled on him basically had him on his knees begging for her. Grayson thought himself more of the dominant type in a relationship, and to be so belittled in a short amount of time of vulnerability certainly didn't set well with him. So the only way to make things right, was to tie the game that the two were subsequently playing.
So when Allison had finished up in the ladies restroom, she made her way back to an empty kitchen, the remnants of the dirty pans he had just used cluttered in the enlarged sink. She retraced her steps to the dining area, a few candles lit and placed around the area where a grinning Grayson was sat, his eyes trailing her body once more. Her mouth slightly gapes in awe, the table gorgeously decorated and the food almost too stunning to eat. "You made all of this?" She slowed her walk once she fully approached the table, Grayson's eager self jumping up from his seat. Like the gentleman he is, he gladly pulled the chair out for her, nodding to her question as he did so.
"Did you expect any less?" He curved one of his eyebrows upward, the distraught shake of her head solving his pondering. Once she was sat in the chair, he easily pushed her under the table and took his seat again. Folding his arms across his chest, he leans back in his chair, eyeing Allison with his lustful stare. "Dig in." His distracting voice almost demands, Allison hastily picking up the neatly placed fork beside her plate. Without another warning, she "dug in" and placed the food in her mouth. Flavor began to roll throughout her taste buds as her pearly white teeth chewed on the wondrous food. "Grayson, this is wonderful.. How'd you make it?" She quickly asked before taking another large bite. He only shrugs, his very familiar smirk rising on his lips.
"Don't know, I just happen to be the head chef here." She froze in her place, her eyes widening as she looked at him. "You're that Grayson?" Allison finally recognized the man sitting across from her. He was Grayson Dolan, head chef at Le Goût, one of her brother's best friends, and her saving grace from the gallery. She was shocked that she hadn't truly known who he was the entire time. Her father has spoken about him before, as well as Marcus and even Andrew, but she didn't take to that fact that that was him.
The new information in mind, she continued to eat the delicious food, moaning almost intensely as she chewed. Grayson's grip on his fork tightened, his ears almost perking to the sound of her oblivious breathing. He had trouble even focusing on his food, let alone eating it.
And the night continued on, Allison antagonizing Grayson unintentionally while he struggles to keep to himself...
(masterlist)
#dolan twins smut#dolan twins#dt#ily#grayson#ethan dolan#ethan grant dolan#grant#grayson dolan#impaladolan#graysonbailey#grayson dolan smut#grayson dolan fanfic#graysondolan#Grayson#grayson and ethan#chef!grayson#grayson x OC#Le Goût
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