A loud snore startles her, bringing her back to the present. She turns to see her husband fast asleep.

Typical.

She waits a beat, counting to ten in her head to make sure he’s actually sleeping before swinging her legs over the side of the bed, sock-clad feet touching the ground.

She walks through their ensuite to their closet making sure to lock the door behind her. At the very end stands a mahogany armoire, one she had first bought with Grayson at an antique sale. He never realized its true purpose.

She pushes it slightly to the side, revealing a loose floorboard. When she removes the plank, she’s greeted to the sight of two large duffle bags.

So, yes. She was hiding something, something jeopardizing to both their lives. She sets aside the first bag, unzipping the second one.

Multiple passports, a ziploc bag full of cash, a burner phone. She takes another look at the file hidden underneath, a penlight tucked between her lips.

Name: Grayson Dolan

Age: 25

Occupation: Tech Consultant

A smiling picture falls from underneath the documents and she brings it closer to her face, examining his features slowly.

She was no stranger to the black widow op, seducing a wealthy man to take his money and leaving with nothing in return. It was practically how she survived, always receiving a generous cut from her agency.

This, however, was different. Grayson happened to work at a reputable tech agency that had been stealing money from her boss, embezzling him out of a quarter of his net worth in under four years, and a lot was riding on her ability to figure out how to get this money back. She flips through the documents again, scanning through her assignment outline. She was supposed to find a way into Grayson’s life, sneak her way into his job and get access to documents of proof of fraud. It should have been simple enough, over and done with in less than a year. Somehow, Grayson had found a permanence into her life. She had gotten used to waking up beside him and falling asleep to his soft snores in the evening,

A sparkle catches her eye and she looks down at her left hand, flashlight illuminating her wedding ring. A sign of broken promises and a marriage already built on a foundation of lies. She tucks the diamond under her finger, revealing the script embedded on the bottom.

Naomi Dolan - April 2022

Two years. She should’ve have been in and out, done with this in an under a year and yet she was heading into her third year of marriage. And everyday it was getting harder to differentiate between what was real and what was fake.

She sighs again, clicking her flashlight off and placing everything back in its original spot before falling asleep in her usual her spot next to Grayson.

When she wakes up, birds are chirping loudly outside the window, reminding her that she’s stuck in another day of suburbia.

She follows their unspoken routine, having fallen into a comfortable routine with Grayson. Everyday is the same.

They’ll wake up and brush their teeth, neither of them speaking, just stealing glances through the mirror. Naomi will leave for work, kissing him on the cheek before driving to work, where Grayson believed she’s simply an accountant. In reality, she’s at her agency, figuring out how to take whoever her boss is focused on down. Around 3:30, she’ll come home where she’ll sneak around and hope that today is the day Grayson would be careless enough to leave some information lying around before he comes home to her at 6, a hot-dinner laid out on the table waiting for him.

Everyday is the same.

“How was your day at work?” He’ll ask her.

Memories will through her head, laying the scene out like a flip book. Victim unrelenting to give information, another blood stained shirt tucked underneath the floorboard so he won’t find it.

She’ll sip her wine, coyly smiling over the glass. “Troublesome. And you?”

But today he does something different, breaking their scripted out day.

“We’re having a Christmas party, black-tie. It’s this Friday and I’d like it if you come with me, sweetheart?

Naomi hums, acknowledging his statement. In her mind, a Christmas party surrounded by a bunch of tech bros was the closest thing to Hell she could get.

“Dr.Braun said we should try to spend more time together. Said it’ll help with our marriage.” Naomi fights the urge to roll her eyes.

Another terrible suggestion by that terrible man.

“Andras is the head of another company. It’s supposed to be a merging gala, whatever that means.”

Andras?

Naomi perks up at the mention of that name, that was interesting to her.

Andras Graves had been one of the top marks her agency had been watching for the past year or so, taking over Grayson’s company in under two months. He was born into wealth, a trust fund baby that grew into a powerful man by the age of 22. He controlled over half the technical information in the western United States and having him on your side was valuable.

Having his information was even better.

“You didn’t tell me Andras was becoming CEO of both the companies.” She ask, hoping her tone remains steady enough to sound inconspicuous.

He twists his wedding band.

“We didn’t know until this morning.”

“Well, I would love to come then. Get to know this new CEO of yours.”

Grayson twists his wedding band again before smiling back up at her.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There’s really only three essential rules to a long term con: always stick to your story, never let your identity become comprised and never cross-disguise.

Fortunately Naomi had always been good at dress-up, playing pretend and leading a new identity. The more you do it however, the less glamorous it starts to become.

She adjusts her janitor uniform, pulling at the baggy pant legs. Her hair is tucked under an itchy and hot blonde wig. She knows how to remain unseen, unnoticeable to the passing eye. She keeps her head low, eyes downward as she pushes her cleaning cart through the bustling crowd.

Grayson’s company he works at surprises Naomi, a large high-rise with big glass windows and screens everywhere. Some displaying the news, some displaying stock information and others being used for presentations. The more Naomi looks, the more what she’s seeing makes less sense - so unnecessarily big as if to distract from something.

She continues walking, looking all around her and praying she knows what she’s looking for when she sees it. Doors to an evil lair, henchmen guarding an entry way or even a giant neon sign screaming ‘evil shit goes on here’. However, nothing useful catches her attention.

“Grayson, Andras wanted to see you later.” Naomi’s head whips back, spotting the way Grayson is walking right towards her. Instantly, she knows that regardless of whatever wig she has on, Grayson’s perceptive enough to recognize the supposed love of his life.

She takes in her surroundings, scanning for a quick exit but not seeing anything that will get her out of his way. He’s grows closer and Naomi holds her breath she’s running out of time until he’s close enough to see her. She tucks her head even further down, pulling down her wig to cover her face before rushing past him. She sees her getaway, walking through a pair of double doors, sighing out when she can lock them behind her.

“Excuse me?”

She turns around. Sitting behind a broad desk was none other than Andras. His dark hair is slicked back, revealing a pale face. Everything about him is classically handsome except for his eyes, laced with vice and deceit.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just need to clean your office.” She slips into a airy French accent, hoping he’ll go along with no questions.

“Doesn’t cleaning normally come on Tuesdays?”

Life can never be easy, can it?

“The woman who normally comes is out sick, sent me here today instead.”

“Really, is Florence okay?” He smiles at her, almost amused as if he’s picking up on something she isn’t.

She swallows deeply. “She’s fine, just a brief touch of appendicitis.”

“Very well. Do I need to be in here or-?”He walks over to her, staring her down with such an intensity that Naomi starts to feel nervous - a rare feeling for her.

“I’ll be just a second.” She assures, slightly pushing him out of his office.

She takes a deep breath, standing in front of his desktop set up. Naomi unclips her bracelet, placing the flash drive into his computer before copying most of the documents onto there.

“C’mon, c’mon.” She whispers under her breath, eyes hurriedly focused on the loading bar. The computer dings, and she sighs out, clipping her bracelet back on before walking out. Not paying attention, she carelessly walks into the person standing outside, hand half-raised in a knock.

“Woah, watch out.” Two strong arms steady her, pulling her upright before she falls to the ground.

Hazel eyes meet green.

“Naomi?” Grayson asks.

She releases himself from his hold, quickly walking past him and into the crowd. She turns around to see him following her and begins to walk even faster, ditching her janitor cart to move through the crowd easier. Her heart is racing, the rapid thumping deafening to her ears.

“Naomi, wait!”

Grayson grabs her wrist, finally catching up to her and turning her so she’s facing him. She watches as he looks over properly, fully taking in who’s in front of him.

Naomi’s been trained to read emotions since a young age, gather what somebody is feeling in just a second based off of facial expressions and body language alone. She’s expecting confusion, panic, even anger. She knows how Grayson is supposed to react.

Instead, he surprises her. His whole demeanor radiates calmness, not even fazed by the chase she had just put him through.

He drops her wrist and smiles calmly, not even missing a beat.

“Sorry, I must’ve mistaken you for somebody I know. You have a familiar face.” He turns the other way, hands in his pocket as if he hadn’t just caught her parading around as another woman.

She stands in the middle of the lobby, still trying to calm the anxiety racing through her body. Mostly, she’s confused. She’s always been able to read Grayson like the back of her hand, growing in tune to what he’s feeling just from studying so long. So she knows she hadn’t missed the main emotion written clearly on his face:

Recognition.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

High stakes jobs require a level of calmness that are usually uncommon in most people. Naomi’s always prided herself on being a rational person, always able to stay calm in even the most stressful of situations.

“It’s done. I can’t do this anymore, I gotta get out. Call me when you get this.” are the first words out of her mouth when she’s in the car. She’s already called her agency, panic weaving it’s way through her burner phone. She’s unsure why she so rattled by her experience with Grayson, but something is off.

He should’ve reacted - yelled, responded or even yanked her away, or even explain to his coworkers - ‘Hi, sorry my wife is certifiably insane. No she doesn’t not work here and I don’t know why she’s dressed like this.’

She doesn’t understand why he remained calm, but ever nerve in her body is on red, screaming at her to run. She whips her car into her driveway and immediately crosses into her house, running up the stairs to head straight for the mahogany dresser in the back of the closet. She pushes it to the side, opening the second duffle bag to reveal her go-bag. She changes immediately, throwing on leggings and a black t-shirt with a baseball cap. She pulls off he gun taped to the back of the dresser, and almost as quickly as she ran in, she’s leaving, headed straight towards Grayson’s office on the first floor. She opens up the safe, hidden behind a giant painting, and grabs all the cash from inside stuffing that into her duffle bag.

It’s not until she’s halfway out the window that she notices something’s not right.

“Fuck, fuck!” She screams. Her bracelet is missing, panic rapidly rising throughout her body. She’s sitting one leg out the window when she hears dinging, loud noises coming from the thin Macbook in the middle of his desk. She walks over, clicking on the first folder that’s finished uploading.

Files are being uploaded to a cloud, documents after documents. She recognizes them, files that she had just copied from Andras’ desktop. Financial records of embezzlement, records of larceny and assault. Everything she was supposed to take back to her agency was being uploaded right in front of her eyes.

She drops her bag in shock, finally piecing everything together. Too caught up in making sure Grayson hadn’t recognized her, she had missed the way he had grabbed her wrist, hands deep in his pocket as he was leaving. She tries to steady her breathing, panic intensifying as she watches all of her work from the past two years go down the drain. Watching as everything she’s worked for slowly fall into the hands of her enemy.

She opens the last file, pictures of her loading the screen. As expected, Grayson had been watching her, longer than she had thought. Old ID’s, street cam photos, anything connected to her or another identity was being uploaded for Andras and his team to see. The final photo in the series is a picture from their wedding, Her smiling at the camera, happiness almost mocking Naomi’s utter despair at the realization that she is most literally a dead woman. Her identity being revealed puts everyone she works for at risk, and her agency doesn’t take that risk too lightly. Her burner buzzes a few times, and she takes a deep breath before reading the lone text waiting for her.

Identity compromised. Kill Grayson Dolan.

When Grayson started working for Andras, he hadn’t expected to be caught up in a criminal ring. He had taken a security job in his early 20’s, knowing that it paid well and was enough to keep him afloat until the next thing came along. He hadn’t expected to quickly rise up into Andras inner circle.

Everyone knew Andras was involved in some shady organizations; you don’t become as powerful as he did without a few skeletons in your closet. The closer he got to Andras, he realized he was actually in the midst of a graveyard.

He shouldn’t have been too surprised then when Andras approached him a year ago, dropping simple files revealing the true identity of his wife. Andras had explained the whole thing to him: how he had stolen some money from an ex-partner whom Naomi worked for, and she was helping to get revenge. He explained how she had been after him for years with no success and claimed how easy it would be for Grayson to get rid of her. It was practically perfect since she would never expect for her target con to be the one to take her down.

Grayson knew he should be angry, knew he should feel betrayed for being played a fool. However the only feeling was a sickness of listening to how disposable Andras thought his wife was. Luckily, it never got to that point.

In reality, the best way to avoid a takedown is to know what the other side has planned. And Naomi had dropped that precious information into their lap.

Apparently, she had gotten really desperate - actually showing up to his job in order to snoop around. And he wouldn’t have known her true intentions if he hadn’t noticed the bracelet, a gaudy piece of silver that he hadn’t recognized. She normally preferred daintier pieces and when he had finally had a chance to touch it, he recognized it for what it was. A hidden flash drive.

After that, everything practically fell into place. Knowing which files her agency deemed important, it was easy to cover Andras tracks. Delete whatever information they needed the most and the best part was he didn’t even have to confront Naomi.

Grayson just hoped Naomi would’ve been smart enough to flee, get far away from the house by the time he got home.

He sends a silent prayer to the universe before opening the door.

“Hi honey! How are you doing?” She’s chopping vegetables, music playing through the speakers.

Apparently the universe doesn’t listen.

She’s changed since the last time he saw her, obviously not wearing the grimy janitor outfit home. Instead she’s wearing all black - down to her running shoes. She’s finishing up the salad, a large dinner already set out on their expansive dining table. For a moment, Grayson can almost pretend like it’s normal. That they’ll sit down and he’ll ask her about her day. Almost pretend like none of today’s weirdness had even happened.

Naomi continues to hum along, At Last playing softly through the speakers. He recognizes the melody almost immediately, taken back to their wedding day when they had danced together - officiating their title as a couple. He had always loved that song, but Naomi refused to play it - claiming she didn’t want to taint her perfect memories to it. His face darkens as it always does when he thinks about their supposed past - how none of it was real to her anyways.

“Sit down, honey. Dinner will be ready soon.” She calls out, and she turns the music up louder while he obeys, walking into their dining room. He listens closely, recognizing that what he thought was humming is actually the soft murmurs of conversation. He strains, trying to listen, but all he can focus on is Etta James crooning.

He knows his wife is a smart woman, that she would have already pieced together what happened today. Theres no reason why she wouldn’t have left, already halfway across the world and away from him.

Unless there was something forcing her to stay.

He walks over to their china cabinet, reaching in the back to grab a hidden gun.

“You read my mind, honey. Grab the wedding glasses, please.” Grayson freezes, not from Naomi’s sudden presence behind him. He hadn’t even realized she had entered the room, setting down the salad bowl in the center of the table. He pauses at the word honey - the third time she’s called him that in less than five minutes. She never calls him pet names - even when they were dating. She always claimed she hated the cliche and while he was quick to shower her with sweethearts, babes and darlings, she always kept quiet.

The warning signs were always really there and Grayson curses himself for being too blind to recognize them.

Naomi is just as calm as she was in the kitchen, blinking at him owlishly as if wondering what’s taking him so long to grab those glasses and sit down. As he joins her, pouring a glass of wine and sitting across from her, he starts to wonder if he’s crazy. If Andras actually got it all wrong and Naomi isn’t who he thinks it is. The woman who is sitting across from him does not have the demeanor of someone who is waiting for their death - knowing powerful people are hunting her down. He swallows, taking a large swallow before looking at her.

He almost believes himself until he notices her hand, gaze flickering between her coy smile and her ring finger as she takes her own sip of her drink. In the entirety of their marriage, she has never gone without her ring. It had become a source of comfort for him, being able to look down and see the Tiffany ring on her finger - even when he knew the marriage was fake. She taps her ring finger on her glass, grabbing his attention and he recognizes the action for what it is. A silent message that the sham is over, that they both know the others game. She clears her throat softly before speaking.

“I know its not a special occasion, but I thought we should have a nice dinner anyways. We’ve been having so much trouble with our marriage and Dr. Braun did say spending time together was important.” She couldn’t hide her smile if she tried, and Grayson swallows as she throws his earlier words back in his face. He looks at all of his favorite food in front of him, a steak with mashed potatoes and salad in front of him. She never cooks like this for him, always settling for something simple and quick. He honestly didn’t even know that she knew how to cook this well, and almost cuts into his food before he stops.

Naomi is still staring at him expectantly, not even having moved to touch her own food. He pauses before looking down at his own plate, noticing a pile of white powder dumped on his potatoes. The pile was too large to be a seasoning and almost sat on top of his food like a mountain of snow. Naomi’s plate was missing the powder, and he turns his own plate away, biting into the steak instead.

He hopes she’s not cliche enough to poison him.

Naomi simply smiles, grabs some powder from a bowl and places it on her own food before taking a large bite.

“Emilia, the neighbor, brought back this special salt from Chile. She said it made every dish she tried better, and we both know how my cooking is. I didn’t put it on the steak though so it might taste a little,” She pauses before taking another bite of her salad completely avoiding her steak “different.”

He glares at her hard before swallowing his own bite.

“On second thought, darling - I’m not that hungry.” She nods getting up to collect both their dishes and for the millionth time that evening, he’s surprised by how calm she’s being. How can she act like everything is fine between them? Like this is just another day in their lives. Anger slightly swells in his chest and he speaks before thinking when she stands next to him.

“Y’know, the weirdest thing happened today. Saw a woman at my job who looked exactly like you.” She pauses before grabbing his steak knife, setting it on top of the other dirty dishes. He shouldn’t have done that. He doesn’t know what she knows and he could’ve at least pretended to be clueless. Maybe she really didn’t know he knew, and now he’s jeopardized everything.

“Weird.” is her only response and she walks back into the kitchen. He’s silent, planning an escape route before she can bring out dessert. The music is turned off and he’s never felt a quietness this loud before . Beads of sweat start forming at his hairline.. Something is wrong.

He just barely ducks underneath the dining table before the bullets make their way through the wall. He hears glass shatter, and immediately knows what’s been hit. Once her round is finished, he waits for the tell-tale clicks of a gun being reloaded before diving to grab the gun hidden in the china cabinet. It takes less than 30 seconds for him to do so before rounds are being fired off again. He inhales sharply when a bowl breaks above him. The shootings done almost as quickly as it started and the quietness is back. He holds his breath, listening to her footsteps walk in before standing up and shooting in her direction. Her eyes widen, taking in the fact that he’s very much still alive and darts back from where she came, hiding from his shots.

He walks out from his hiding spot, surveying the damage around him. Glass litters the entire dining room floor, bullet holes decorating their once-perfect yellow walls. He walks around to the entry foyer, turning in a circle to find a sign of to where she could have gone.

A zipping noise, steak knife literally cutting the tension in the air. He swipes his face, spreading sticky blood along his cheekbone. Of course, she had nicked him.

“Your aim is worse than your cooking, sweetheart.” He calls out. The house is silent in response, him starting to slowly move up the stairs.

He pauses at the top, cocking his gun and letting his finger hover over the trigger. His first thought is the master bedroom, quietly walking to the other side of the hallway. He makes it halfway before another load of gunshots works its way through the doors. Grayson quickly jumps over the banister, landing in the living room below. Naomi continues firing bullets below, using the upward angle as an advantage. He manages to craw into the next room, obstructed from her eagle-eye view. He knows she’s heading down the stairs and he’s getting tired of the cat-and-mouse chase.

“Sweetheart?” He calls out, “ Let’s tal-“

He’s interrupted by a load of gun shots, bullets breaking through the wall. It instantly wrecks, furniture flying everywhere and pieces of wood piling in the middle of the living room. Naomi fires three rounds before her bullets run out, silence calling out to her.

“You still alive, baby?” Her tone is cocky, arrogant and when she rounds the corner where she expected Grayson to be waiting for her, she’s confused when she doesn’t see anything. She walks slowly over destroyed furniture, moving things aside in order to find her missing husband.

“Grayson?” She whispers.

A firm grip behind her grabs her neck and pulls her around to face him. Naomi finds herself eye-to-eye with his gun, and she swallows deeply. She braces herself, watching as his face watches her own, staring deeply into his eyes. She’s silent, wishing to herself how things could’ve been different, ended differently. She silently asks Grayson to forgive her for what she’s done.

“You got me.” She whispers, and Grayson just stares at her, sighing before releasing his hold on her.

“Get out of here.” He whispers back, and before Naomi can say anything else, he’s gone.

Grayson has spent the past week fucking you, spending all his free time trying to get you in bed with him. He seemed to be insatiable, having had a taste of you and not wanting to let go.

You were brushing your teeth one evening when he comes up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist.

You smile around your toothbrush, always welcoming the presence of your boyfriend. You had just figured this was his typical clinginess, wanting to be beside you every minute he can until you fully take him in through the mirror, noticing his appearance was different. His hair was tousled as if he’s been running his hands through it for the past couple of minutes, and he was already planting sloppy kisses along your neck, trailing from your collarbone upwards. He’s suddenly murmuring into your ear, “Wanna see you on top of me, angel.”

Everything you two had done for the most part has been pretty standard, missionary every night and alternating sloppy head in the morning. You hadn’t ventured too far into the sex world, and now that he was bringing new positions up, nerves were starting to ignite in your stomach.

“ I, I don’t know how.” You admit, knowing that that was already obvious to him. However, you were still caught up in wanting to impress him and make every new experience for you even better for his years of experience.

“Don’t care, I’ll show you.” He mumbles, still focused on marking up your neck, moving on to another side when he gets bored of the other.

Which is how you found yourself standing in front of him, you still in bra and underwear as he’s completely naked. He’s stroking himself, watching you like you're his own personal playboy, and you can’t help but clench your thighs at the imagery.

“C’mere.” He grabs your waist, pulling you, so you’re directly on top of his upper thighs. You squirm slightly, and Grayson can feel you dripping on to his leg.

“Why don’t you want to?” He’s not teasing you, just simply wanting to understand your boundaries and ease any nerves.

“Are you forgetting the part about you being too big?” You roll your eyes. While he had been able to bottom out since the first time, it still was a stretch, and he had to prepare you every time, fingering and eating you out before he could finally chase his own relief. You were unsure how you were going to be able to focus and be in control like how he clearly expected; you so used to him guiding you through everything.

You trusted Grayson, knowing that he would never settle for anything less than the best for you. And you know this was all still part of a deep-rooted insecurity of him having more experience than you, but he leans up to kiss you deeply, and you’re moving on his thighs again, dragging wetness across his tattoos. He groans lowly in his throat, looking down at the small wet spot on his leg before looking back up at you.

“Want you to fuck me. Please - angel.” There’s something so pretty about the way begging sounds coming from him that you nod, knowing that he could drag you to hell and back if he asked nicely enough.

You lean in to kiss him, feeling brave, and slowly slip your mouth open, tongue brushing against his. You position yourself, so you’re sitting on top of him as he trails his kisses down your neck and chest, leaving dark marks along the way.

“ I know you’re wet for me, want it just as much as I do.” He murmurs after a particularly harsh suck on your collarbone, dragging a finger under your clothed center to prove his point.

You buck your hips slightly, missing the way he drags his finger so it just barely brushes your clit, and he gets the message, pushing one finger in between your slit. You’re used to this, familiar to the way he fingers you and stretches you out so you can take all of him. He adds another and then another, watching at the way your body takes three of his thick fingers.

In his defense, he is patient. He curls his fingers inside of you, repeatedly moving as you continue to leak more and more for him. You moan slightly, chest arching into him. You keep moaning, louder and louder, until your cumming all over his hand, only the first orgasm of the night.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty for me, angel.” Your face heats up slightly, hiding in his shoulder while he sucks your arousal off his fingers shamelessly. You’re still not used to his excessive praising even if your body reacts differently. Still, it does light a fire in you, wanting to keep hearing the sweet compliments come out of his mouth. He's helping you get undressed, unclasping your bra and tearing your underwear off until you push him back, making sure he’s flat against the bed and rising so your pussy is directly above him.

He watches intently, eyes never leaving the way you slowly sink down on him. He lets you get adjusted, getting used to the fact you can feel every throbbing inch of him. You both let out a soft moan, his head falling back when you slowly rise back up. You get to the point where only his tip is still inside you before dropping back down again, slowly grinding up and down his dick.

It’s not breakneck, nothing too incredible, you still trying to get used to the pace and too wrapped up in your own head on what’ll make him feel good.

Grayson, however, is in his own world. On Cloud 9, as he watches you drag yourself up and down, up and down. His eyes are glued to where the two of you are connected, trying to commit every single moment to memory, so he never forgets this.

“Look so fucking good like this.” He growls, placing a hand on your ass, not doing anything but to ground himself in this euphoria he seems to have found himself in. He leans up to suck on your nipple, harshly sucking on your tit while playing with the other. You whine loudly, rhythm faltering as his tip grazes against your g-spot.

“Fuck, Grayson. So big.” The only thing that comes to mind, because he is. Even underneath you, you feel overwhelmed by just him: by his body, by his dick, by the twisted look of pleasure on his face, by the low grunts that keep spilling out whenever you twist your hips a certain way. It’s overwhelming, and his presence seems larger than life when he’s stretched out like this underneath you.

He wraps an arm around your waist, noticing how your pace is slowly starting to falter as you get tired, and starts thrusting up into you, planting his feet so he can reach even further and deeper than before. Your moans pick back up, watching as his face is set in concentration.

It’s funny how you had set out on making this night about him, and yet he’s grinding his hips into yours, set on making you cum before him.

He smiles smugly up at you, watching as your eyes roll back when he thrusts deep inside.

“Shit, Gray. I thought I was supposed to be - fuck” You whine out the last part loudly, him moving his hand down to rub your clit. “ S'posed to be fucking you.”

He doesn’t say anything, choosing to watch your body tremble slightly above his. Between your tits in his mouth, him rubbing your clit, and the incessant rolling of his hips, your orgasm is fast approaching.

Your nipple pops from his mouth, nipples wet and shiny from his spit as he looks up at you with his pupils blown.

“ Wanna see you cum all over my dick instead.” And if his actions before didn't do it, how fucking wrecked his voice sounds causes you to cum harder than you ever have before, your orgasm lighting every part of your body alive as your body trembles on top of him. You moan loudly, collapsing on top of him as ragged breaths come out of you, trying to catch your breath.

He keeps thrusting underneath you, too close to his own release to want to stop and feel the way you squeezed tightly around him, your own high forcing his body into overdrive. He’s snapping his hips relentlessly, and it’s almost too much for your body to handle, pubic bone brushing your clit into overstimulation.

You whine out, not knowing whether it’s for him to stop or keep going. But one look at the fucked out, determined look on his face gives you your answer for you.

“Amour,” you purr. “Cum.” It’s a simple demand, but it’s enough to get Grayson to falter, cumming deep inside you as he grinds through his orgasm. He lets out a deep, guttural moan, you getting used to the familiar feeling of him pulsing inside you.

He leans back onto the pillow, you falling on top of him. Both your chests rising and falling in tandem, as you listen to his erratic heartbeat try to find a steady rhythm.

“Have I ever mentioned how fucking hot you are?”

“Once or twice, yeah.” You mumble, sleepiness falling over you.

“You’re fucking incredible. That- that - was fucking incredible.” You start to grow shy under his constant praise and are quick to point out his work as well.

“Even if you did half the work?”

“Next time, you can be in charge.” He promises.

You smile wickedly, not even trying to hide the mischief in your eyes.

If you thought the want you felt during game night was terrible, being in the car with Grayson was even worse. The air heavy with anticipation of the rest of the night, both of you taking long glances at the other, wanting to have each other then and there. A part of you was surprised that Grayson hadn't just pulled over for car sex. Still, you did pick up how his speed considerably increased and the low curses whenever he was stuck behind a slow driver.

It didn't take long after that, only ten minutes before you were pulling into the driveway. Both of you taking a moment, silently preparing yourself for whatever laid ahead.

"Ladies first," Grayson smirks, coming around to open your car door for you. He pulls you towards him, giving you a deep kiss while simultaneously trying to get you even closer. It's messy and desperate, teeth knocking into each other and tongues frantically colliding. You were almost positive that if you didn't stop this soon, Grayson would just take you on the hood of the car.

"Baby, the door." You suggest, not really in the mood for another complaint from your neighbors. He obliges, sucking hickeys onto your neck while walking you to the door.

It was safe to say you were distracted, more occupied with whatever Grayson was doing with your body than unlocking the door. It only took the third time of you dropping the keys before he chuckles,

"Need some help?" He takes the keys from you and unlocks the door before continuing to make out with you. It's dark, and your grateful for Grayson's sense of direction as he moves you back towards his room, stripping you of your dress along the way. You break the kiss, reaching around to pull off his hoodie, leaving a nice trail of clothes on the way back.

You're both panting heavily when you finally reach his bed, both only in your underwear. He looks down at you for a moment, uncertain of what he wants to do you first. You, however, had your mind made up from the moment that stupid game night began and sink to your knees.

You place an open mouth kiss on the wet spot forming on his briefs, slightly sucking on the tip of his erection. He groans somewhat, letting you indulge for a second. However, once your hands reach for his waistband, he pulls you back up and pushes you back onto the bed.

"What was it I said earlier, ladies first?" He has a shit-eating grin, and you roll your eyes at his childness. He starts to pull your underwear off, blowing soft air onto your clit and watching as you clench around nothing. He leaves soft kisses on your inner thigh, sucking dark bruises while you moan. You place a hand in his hair, hoping to guide him where you need him most.

"God, it's like heaven sent you to me." He whispers before finally diving in, giving your  pussy a sloppy kiss. If you weren't overwhelmed by pleasure, your heart would melt. Forgoing any teasing, Grayson continues to make out with your lower half, desperate to get you to cum and slurping any wetness you leak out for him. He's hopeless for you, snaking one hand up to play with your nipple while the other starts rubbing circles onto your clit.

Already you know you're not going to last long, waves building in your stomach as you feel your orgasm slowly approaching. You start to subconsciously grind your hips into his mouth, moaning louder and louder before he leans back, removing both his hands and his mouth, leaving you to whine as whatever pleasure you were feeling die out. You take a long look at Grayson, almost crying at how wrecked he looks. His mouth is swollen, glistening with your juices, and his hair is sticking up from where you were raking your hands through it. His eyes are dark, and you watch as he slowly stares at the way your ch before looking at the ceiling, palming at his dick.

"Gray?" You ask, a little concerned, and leaning up to reach out for him. He lays a large hand against your stomach to push you back down.

"Just... just give me a second." He grits out, still not making eye contact with you and nostrils flaring. Any other time, you would probably oblige, giving him, however long he needed to calm down in order to continue. However, you've been waiting for hours to cum, and after feeling your orgasm so close, you were sure you would start crying if you didn't cum soon.

So you move a small hand down to your clit, and start circling softly. You begin leaking onto the mattress, wishing it was Grayson touching you instead. You swipe up some more of your wetness, inserting a finger and pumping slowly.

Grayson looks down at you, heart dropping when he sees you fingering yourself.

"Y/N." He says, warningly, not being able to tear his eyes away from you. You add another finger, curling deeper, so you're hitting your g-spot.

"Gray," You mewl, "wish it was you instead." He leans down, moving your legs so he has a better view, and already you feel your orgasm building again.  There was something unbelievably hot about this, watching Grayson watch you get yourself off. You've never thought about this in your deepest fantasies, and yet, you were already addicted to the way his eyes followed your finger's movements.

It only takes a few more pumps of your fingers and a slight pinch of your nipple before your cumming hard, waves of pleasure overwhelming your body. You pant heavily, Grayson stroking your hair as it works through you.  You look up at him, noticing how desperately turned on he looks. From the way his pupils have almost covered his iris to his heavy breathing, you would've thought he came with you if it wasn't for his still solid erection forming a tent in his briefs.

You reach over for his waistband, mouth drooling, and ready to go again with how unbelievably sexy he looks. He understands and pulls down his underwear before standing over you. Your mouth drops slightly. You look up at your boyfriend, even more attracted to how wrecked he looks.

"You're too good to be true." You whisper, always amazed by the sight of your naked boyfriend. He's so pretty like this, tattooed thighs framing his cock. It bobs slightly as he moves up to kiss you, tip red and leaking precum.  You make out briefly before he's leaning back, spitting on your clit.

You moan loudly. "Gray"

"Yeah."

"Fuck me, please. I need to feel you inside me." His breath hitches as you reach down, rubbing a thumb over his tip and spreading his precum across the head. He shudders slightly, leaning down to spit on your pussy again before slowly inserting you.

You both moan, knowing this isn't going to take much time for either of you. Grayson thrusts slowly, rolling his hips into yours, so his pubic bone brushes onto your clit. The pleasure is overwhelming, and you dig your nails into his back, leaving angry indents of crescent moons.  You link your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you.

"Gray," You whine out. "More, please." Your voice sounds so broken, and that does it for him, snapping his hips into you unrelentingly. Your eyes roll back into your head, not being able to cope with the pleasure his harsh thrusts are giving you.

The coil in your stomach starts to build again, and you clench involuntarily around him, causing his rhythm to stutter.

"Fuck, you're so tight." His voice cracks, and you could've cum then and there. It only takes a slight pinch of your nipple and a few rubs at your clit before your cumming loudly and dragging your nails down his back.

He continues to fuck your through your orgasm, balls tightening at the blissed, fucked out expression on your face.

"Gray, cum in me please. Fill me up" And even though Grayson knew he wasn't going to last much longer, that does it for him. His thrust slow, sloppily cumming inside you before stopping completely.

You're both still, each other's heavy breathing the only sounds in the room. Grayson is the first one to speak,

"I think that's the best sex we've ever had." He reaches over to dap you up, and you snort, rolling your eyes while returning the gesture.

"Love you."

The second incident happens a few days later. You wanted to surprise Grayson with vegan french toast, for once,  instead of the other way around. You had planned to make him breakfast in bed, but ever the early riser, he’s up before you can even put the food in the pan.

“What’s this, Angel?”  He sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You jump slightly before turning to kiss him.

“I wanted to surprise you with breakfast, but you woke up too early.” He hums, watching over your shoulder as you measure out the egg substitute before placing kisses on your neck.  What starts off as light and playful turns into deep sucks, sloppily kissing your neck in hopes of ending this morning differently than you had planned.

“ What’s up with you today, Bailey? You’re never this nice to me in the morning.” You moan softly at a particularly harsh suck, knowing that you’re probably going to have to go heavy on the makeup today.

“Don’t know. Think I just woke up hungry for you instead.”  His voice is shot, gravelly with sleep and horniness. You’d be turned on if he didn’t press himself against you at that moment, letting you feel all of him.

“Gray.”

He hums, showing he’s listening, but more preoccupied with trying to move his hands under your leggings.  You move away from him once his hands slip under your waistband. He looks at you, head cocked like a puppy. You get a chance to take a good look at him, clad in only his L.A. Kings sweatshirt and briefs. His hair is messy from sleep, but if you’re honest, all you can see is his morning wood. He looks at you expectantly, waiting to hear why you stopped him.

“I don’t want the toast to burn.”

He looks at the stove, then at you, then back at the stove.

“Angel, it’s not even on.” He places his hand in the pan, proving his point.

“Yeah, but if it gets too hot when I do turn it on, the toast will burn easier. Simple science, Gray.” You both know what you’re saying makes absolutely no sense. Still, you’ve turned around, finishing making his breakfast and changing the subject.

Grayson looks like he wants to say something, but he drops it as well, answering questions about whatever workout he has planned today even though he knows you have zero interest. He makes a note to ask you about this later, but ultimately forgets about it, giving you a few more days of peace.

The final straw is a movie night.

You’re both laid up on the couch, scrolling through the different titles on Netflix. You’re lying on top of him, Grayson’s arm wrapped lazily around your stomach. His hand traces small patterns while clicking on a title to read a description before moving on to the next.

“What do you think?” You look up from your phone, noticing he’s stopped on some random documentary. You honestly don’t really care what Grayson picks, more than content to just spend time with him.

“I don’t care, amour. You choose.” The tracing on your stomach stops at the nickname, and you feel his breath hitch before he starts the patterns again.

“You know, I don’t think it really matters.”

“It doesn’t?” You look at him, wondering where he’s going with this.

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t think we’re going to be doing that much watching anyways.” He moves you over so you’re lying on top of him, faces mere inches away from each other.

“Oh, really? Shame because I was really looking forward to,” You turn to check the screen “Velvet buzzsaw.”  He laughs a little before his face turns serious again. You watch as he struggles to focus on you, eyes fluttering down to your lips every few seconds.

“Yeah, a shame.” He mutters, pulling you closer. He kisses you, and your heart rate doubles. If there’s anything about Grayson, it’s that he never does anything halfway. He always kisses you like it’s the first time, making you want to fall in love with him all over again.

It doesn’t take too long for Grayson to become restless, wanting to start moving the night in a different direction. His hand slowly moves toward your ass, squeezing lightly. His kisses down your neck, sucking hard while he subconsciously grinds into you. It isn't until he starts pulling at your shirt, gesturing for you to take it off, that you pull away again.

“Okay, what’s wrong, Y/N?” He sits up to face you, breathing heavily.  

“What do you mean?”

“I mean any time I, y’know, try and do anything with you, you just stop me. Do you not want to sleep with me?” His mind is going a mile a minute, frustrated and confused by your hot and cold tendencies. He doesn’t want to pressure you, more than willing to do whatever you need to feel comfortable. However, the lack of explanation is leaving him baffled.

“Are you not attracted to me?” He asks slowly, trying to consider every option in his mind. You stare at him like he'd suddenly grown two heads.

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“So... so what’s going on, Y/N?” He runs a shaky hand through his hair, “I mean, I’m not trying to pressure you or anything, but you gotta understand, you’re killing me here.” He smiles weakly. You lean you head back, closing your eyes before blurting out,

“It’snotthatI’mnotattractedtoyouI’mjustavirgin.” You rush it out, mumbling, and Grayson’s not even sure if you were speaking English at that point.

“I’m sorry?” You look at him, bewildered that he would apologize, before realizing he’s just asking for a repetition.  You sigh and take a deep breath before repeating,

“It’s not that I’m not attracted to you. I’m just a virgin.” You close your eyes again, waiting for teasing or whatever cruel expectations your brain has given you. Instead, Grayson surprises you.

“That’s it?”

“What do you mean that’s it? Yes, that’s it.”

“I mean, I understand if you’re embarrassed, but Angel, it’s not that embarrassing.” You finally open your eyes to look at him, still expecting to see him holding back laughs or looking at you with pity.  Instead, he’s just looking at you with more love and adoration than you’ve ever seen.

“I know it’s not, and I know it’s stupid. I’ve just always wanted it to be with the right guy, and I know for a fact that it’s you. It’s just-“ You pause, not wanting to be even more vulnerable than you’re already being.

“Just what?” He questions, softly encouraging you to continue.

“It’s just what if I’m not good enough for you. What if I’m not as good as the other girls you’ve been with, and you decide you don’t want to be with me anymore.” He does snort loudly at that.

“Where would you even get that from? I’m not with you because I expect you to be like super good at sucking dick or some bullshit. I’m with you because I'm in love with you, and if that means waiting days, weeks, or years until you’re ready, I’m fine with that. I just want you to be honest and not feel like you can’t tell me these things.” His confession leaves you warm, more in love than you’ve been before, even if it’s not the most ideal circumstances.

“But, I don’t want you to be like unhappy or unsatisfied until I’m ready.”

“So, let’s go slow.”  He suggests.

“Slow?” You cock your head, not really understanding where he was going with this.

He hums in agreement, “Yeah. We’ll take it step-by-step. Whatever you’re okay with, I’m okay with.”

You lean in, kissing him again, but this time you’re leading. You push him back into the couch, crawling into his lap. He moans lowly, happy with the attention, and holds you closer to him.  You grab the back of his shirt, pulling at it to get him to take it off. Grayson grabs your hand, stopping you before pulling away. You lean in again, wanting to continue with where you were going.

“ Woah, angel, slow down. We’re not gonna do this now; I want to actually make it special for you. “ You whine at that, appreciating the fact that Grayson cares enough to want to make it memorable and romantic for you, but you feel more than ready to show how much you love him in the most intimate way. He notices your frustration, letting out a deep breath before suggesting,

“We can always do something else.”

“Something else.” You agree, dazed and just drunk off the Grayson Dolan effect. He smirks at your response and moves you from on top of him.

Your heart drops to your stomach when Grayson slides off the couch, onto his knees, and in between your legs.

He grabs the waistband of your shorts, kissing where the elastic meets the skin. You can’t take your eyes off of him, watching as he takes in every inch that’s exposed as he pulls your shorts down. He tosses them over his shoulder while taking in what’s before him. He kisses your inner right thigh, moving higher to the apex before switching to the other one. He repeats this on the other leg.

“You okay?” He checks in with you, wanting to make sure he’s never doing too much or not enough. You nod eagerly, not wanting him to stop now that he’s begun.

He takes a moment before continuing, softly kissing your clit over your underwear. You hold your breath, watching as he places another kiss, and another, and another before he’s gently sucking it into his mouth.  The pleasure isn’t overwhelming, underwear still providing a barrier from what his mouth can truly offer. Nevertheless, you whimper slightly, and Grayson groans at the sound.  He let’s go, starting to pull down your underwear, eyes checking in with you again. You nod, and he pulls your thong down, exposing yourself for him. You try and close your legs, not missing the way his eyes darken a full shade, and his stare grows more intense. He moves them apart, pulling a leg over his shoulder so he has full access.

“Fuckin’ perfect.” Grayson takes a deep breath, wanting to savor this. He would be the first man (and hopefully last) to touch you like this, to hear what it sounds like you when someone feels the most sensitive parts of you, to see what it looks like when your cum. Frankly, the thought makes his head spin, and at this point, he doesn’t know whether he’s doing this more for him or for you.

He kisses your clit again, this time the feeling stronger with nothing blocking the way. He pulls away, checking your reaction for any discomfort before licking you slowly. He uses two fingers to spread you apart, giving him full opportunity to do whatever his heart desires.

He tastes you growing wetter, sweet musk feeling the air, and he’s already addicted, more than content to die in between your legs. He fully takes your clit into his mouth, suckling slightly. You’re whimpering lowly, trying to hold back any noises. Grayson, however, wants the opposite.

“C’mon, let me hear you.” He leans back, voice hoarse, weak, and so fucking wrecked. His lips are swollen and shiny, and you could cry from just how erotic it all looks. He leans back, giving your clit a long hard suck, and you nearly scream, crying out from the blinding, white-hot pleasure he’s giving you.

“There she is.” He groans, more than pleased with himself. He takes a finger, scooping up some of your wetness before slowly inserting it.

His dick twitches, and it takes everything in him not to cum right there. You feel so warm and wet and so fucking tight. You’re gripping him like a vice, and if that’s how you feel with one finger, he has no idea what he’s gonna do when he actually fucks you.

“ Fuck, Grayson. So good.” You can feel yourself leaking onto the couch, and the noises he’s making are obscene. You would feel embarrassed if it wasn’t for the fact that you think you’re gonna cum.

He adds another finger, trying to stretch you out. He’s entirely making out with your pussy now, eyes closed, and just enjoying everything about this. He’s slurping up everything you release for him, and it’s wet, messy, and sloppy just the way he loves it.

You thought you would know what to expect when you came, having made yourself cum plenty of times yourself. But nothing could prepare you for an orgasm brought on by Grayson Dolan.

The coil tightly wounded in your stomach suddenly snaps, releasing waves of pleasure all over your body. Grayson leans back, not wanting to miss your face when he makes you cum for the first time out of many. Your head thumps on the back of the couch, mouth falling into a perfect O, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Grayson’s hooked and continues to pump his fingers slowly, not being able to tear his eyes away from how hot you look.

When you’re finally done, he moves his hand up to his mouth, sucking whatever’s left on his fingers, dark eyes stuck on you. If you weren’t so exhausted,  you swear you would’ve fucked him then and there.

“Well?” He asks, watching you put yourself back together.

“Holy shit.” You breathe out, brain completely turned to mush, and not able to form anything remotely coherent. He laughs loudly, leaning back on his shoulders to look at you.

“Do you want me to-“ You gesture to his lower half, dick still very hard and not going away.

He nods, leaning down to kiss you on the lips before walking towards the bathroom. You follow, sitting on his bed to scroll through your phone while he gets ready for a post-workout shower. Since the two of you have been taking your relationship further, everything’s escalated between you two - this unavoidable tension growing whenever you’re near each other. If anything, it was like waiting for the drop on a never-ending rise of a roller-coaster. You both knew what you were leading to, but neither of you brave enough to take the fall.

“Hey, have you seen my towel?”

And there was this part, the relentless teasing between the two of you. It was like the two of you knew about this cat-and-mouse game you two were stuck in, wanting to see who could give in first. Lingering touches whenever Grayson passes by you, warm hands always on your lower back and upper thigh. And, of course, the always semi-nakedness. He stood at the doorway, skin still shining with sweat from his workout and underwear low on his hips, showing off his abs and deep v-line. His constant working out recently has been paying off, appreciation present on your face as your eyes slowly drag down his frame.

“Y/N.” His voice roughly comes out, breaking your concentration of following a bead of sweat through the contours of his muscles. You hadn’t noticed your tongue slowly swiping over your lips, Grayson’s mouth drying at the small movement. You look up at him, trying to act as innocent as you can after getting caught checking out your boyfriend.

“My towel?” You don’t comment on how his voice is a few octaves deeper, instead choosing just to shrug.

“Probably in the wash. Just grab a new one.” He nods, watching you bite your lip as you continue to work yourself up over your own thoughts. You really weren’t joking when you had said that his presence was more than enough to turn you on, and he was starting to find it really attractive. He’s a simple man, and knowing his girlfriend finds him attractive is a healthy ego-boost, enough to make him want to see how far he can push you.

He walks over to you slowly, feeling a little stupid at this whole seduction attempt. The look in your eyes, however, resolves any insecurity he might be feeling.

“What… what are you doing?” You ask, stuttering slightly as you become eye-to-eye with his dick. You move forward to touch him, slip a small hand underneath his underwear, anything, but before you can, he stops you. He leans down to cage you in, arms on both sides of your body, so you’re face-to-face. He’s close, close enough that you can make out every minuscule detail on his face. He glances down at your lips, eyes several shades darker than when this whole interaction started, and you can’t help but moan softly, clenching your thighs as he moves closer. You feel the heat radiating off of him, and it’s like the two of you are feeding off of each other's energy, growing more turned on without having done anything yet.

He traces a palm along your inner thigh, stroking softly. Before he reaches where you want him the most, he reaches past you to grab his phone lying on the bed behind you.

“Forgot my phone.” He waves the iPhone in his hand before turning back to use the shower, laughing at the long slew of curses you’re throwing out at him. He knows that however long his shower is will be more than enough time for you to forgive him, being apart giving the both of you time to calm down. And if it isn’t, he knows just the way to apologize. He palms himself lightly, turning the water down to a colder temperature than he would’ve liked, but wanting to kill his throbbing hard-on. He knows he promised he’d wait for you, giving you however much time you needed to feel comfortable enough to sleep with him. However, he’s still a man in his prime, and he can’t help craving more than sloppy blowjobs and unpolished hand jobs. He craves you in the most intimate way, and it seems harder and harder to resist picturing you underneath him, softly moaning out with sharp nails trailing down his back, his mouth marking up your chest.

He shakes his head, almost as if trying to physically clear the image from his head. He was more than happy to wait weeks, months, even years until you were ready to be with him in that way, and he wasn’t going to let whatever fantasies he had ruin that. What the two of you needed was a hard-reset, something to break this rising tension between the two of you. He hops in the shower, shivering slightly under the cold water while coming up with a plan to romance you in the way you deserve.

When he’s finished, he walks out, surprised to see you with damp hair and a sundress on, seeming to have taken your own shower in the meantime. You smile up at him, already have forgotten the teasing from earlier. Grayson’s stomach somersaults at your soft smile, heart beating out of his chest with unbridled love for you.

“C’mon, I have a surprise for you.”

It takes about 30 minutes for him to get everything together, ordering some food to be delivered to his house before you find yourself in the passenger seat of his Tesla, hair blowing in the wind as you sing along softly to the Kid Cudi song playing in the background. He looks over, smiling at the way your skin seems to shine gold in the setting sun. You hadn’t questioned where he was taking you yet, moreso curious at the changing scenery as you drive further and further out of L.A.

“You’re not kidnapping me, right? This is the part where you finally get sick of me?” You joke, hopefully trying to prod some information out of your uncharacteristically silent boyfriend.

“You can never be romantic, huh?” He laughs, looking at you over a pair of sunglasses. After about 45 minutes, you arrive at the beach, car parked near the sand. Grayson grabs the food out of the backseat, handing you the blanket that stays in the trunk of his car.

“A picnic on the beach?” You tease lightly. “Very cliche, Dolan.” He laughs, grabbing your hand.

“Humor me.”

He leads you along the shore, waves providing a background melody to whatever meaningless conversation the two of you are having. The moment he finds a spot he feels is secluded enough, he sets the blanket and food down, pulling you into his lap.

“You’re never this nice to me.” You raise an eyebrow jokingly, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pepper light kisses along his face and neck, humming appreciatively.

“What do you mean, I’m always nice to you. Besides, can’t I spoil my gorgeous girlfriend?”

“Mhm, but you’re laying it on kinda heavy.”

“You’re so annoying.” He rolls his eyes playfully before taking out the food, handing you your meal before digging into his. You can’t help but admire the adonis of a man in front of you, the sunset giving him the infamous golden hour wash. He’s chewing on one of the sandwiches he ordered, concentrated heavily on the vegan goodness in front of him. He looks up at you, poking your face slightly.

“Quit staring. S’not nice.” He jokes, feeding you one of the chips. You don’t know why, but that simple act of domesticity does it for you, images of the future flashing in your mind. You see every part of your and Grayson’s life together, coming together like pieces of a puzzle. It seems overly apparent that there’s nobody else for you except for him, and you start to feel overwhelmed with love for him. There’s no doubt in your mind about what you want to do next.

“So, there's something I’ve been thinking about recently.” He turns to you, still chewing on his food. He cocks his head, giving you a sign to continue.

“I think I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?” His eyebrows furrow, confused at the lack of explanation.

“Ready to, y’know.” You trail off, tilting your head in hopes he’ll catch on to what you’re insinuating. When he still looks at you with a blank expression, you move your hand towards his dick, palming lightly over his pants.

“Oh.. oh!” He swallows deeply. “Are you sure, angel? I’m not trying to rush you or anything, just did this because I love you.” Your heart melts even further, and you lean forward, capturing his lips in between yours.

“Of course. Not doing this out of a whim or anything; I want it to be you because I love you. You knew that.” He laughs softly, pulling you closer to him for a light kiss. You lean forward, kissing him deeper, running your hands through his hair and shifting in his lap, trying to guide him in the direction you desired without saying anything.

“Now?” He questions. You nod, already leaning back in to keep kissing him. He pulls back.

“Are you sure, angel? I could make this better, get us a nice room, take you out to a nice dinner beforehand?”You shake your head. Whatever Grayson had planned in his mind, this was so much better - more the two of you.

“This is perfect, amour.” You assure, already leaning back into to continue where you left off. He holds your shoulder, stopping you from going in for the third time.

“Are you sure, Y/N? I want this to be perfect for you.” You stop, pouting slightly at his hesitation.

“Yes, amour. It’ll be perfect so long as I’m with you. Now, please. I don’t want to beg.” You whine, and if Grayson was any less of a man, he probably would’ve made you. However, he could feel you already growing warm in his lap, so he moves to kiss you, pulling you closer to him as he does. He feels every fiber of his being light up, electricity following wherever you touch him. You lean back, pulling on his shirt to get him to discard it. He takes it off quickly before leaning forward to kiss marks down your neck. You moan softly, trailing your nails slightly down his chest. You both lean back, breathing heavily as the sun sets completely, enveloping you two in darkness.

You take him in, not knowing what you want to do next. Even though this is your first time, you still want him to feel as good about this as you do, and so you move off his lap, him looking at you questionably. You lean down slightly, hands moving to unzip his pants. Before you could pull him out of his underwear, he stops you.

“Uh-uh, this is about you.” He grips your jaw lightly, bringing you back up so your face-to-face with him.

“What if what I want is for you to cum with your dick in my mouth?” You narrow your eyes teasingly, moving back into his lap while watching as his own eyes widen at your bold statement.

“Fuck, where the fuck did you learn to talk like that?” You smile at his response, feeling his dick jump lightly underneath you. You roll your hips experimentally, swearing breathlessly when he grips your hips harder. He controls your movements, peppering kisses from your neck down to your chest.

“Fuck, Grayson. Please, I need more.” You’re not exactly sure what you’re asking for, but he, knowing you like the back of his hand by now, is already pulling your dress off. He groans slightly when your tits are exposed, nipples hardening due to the cold ocean air. He leans forwards, taking one into his mouth, sucking and nibbling lightly, circling the other nipple lightly. He switches sides once he’s had his fill, giving your other breast the same attention, watching as you arch your back into him. Once done, he kisses down the valley of your chest, stopping at the edge of your underwear.

“Lay back.” He whispers, moving you, so you’re laid out on the blanket. You don’t hesitate, leaning back on your elbows, so you don’t miss a single movement. He slips your underwear off, whispering a ‘fucking perfect’ once you're exposed to him. He glances up at you again, features illuminated by moonlight, and you can’t help thinking how that statement perfectly describes him as well: fucking perfect. He licks a long stripe before sucking on your clit slowly.

“Grayson!” You jolt, slowly growing wetter with every movement. He slips one finger in, moving slowly.

“Grayson, more.” You whine, bucking your hips. He places a palm down, trying to still your movements.

“I know, I know. Gotta stretch you out first.” He curls his finger a few times before adding another, and you moan louder. It’s slow torture, knowing that he’s right about prepping you properly but also just wanting him to fuck you already. He moves his hand to rub your clit, and you’re done, moaning loudly as your orgasm wrecks over your entire body. You knew it wasn’t going to take much, already having worked yourself up the whole day. He leans back, letting you catch your breath while he slips off his pants and boxers.

“You good?” He checks in, watching as you focus on his dick in front of you. He laughs slightly when you just nod wordlessly and reach forward to jerk him off, hand moving up and down his shaft. He moves out of the way to position himself in front of you, sudden nerves appearing in his stomach. He’s not a virgin at all, but he might as well be, any previous experience flying out the door at the thought of wanting to make this memorable for you. He starts to stress, feeling this overwhelming pressure to make everything perfect. You lean up and kiss the crease that’s appeared in between his eyebrows.

“Just relax.” You whisper.

“I should be the one telling you that.” He chuckles. He coats himself in your wetness before slowly moving his hips forward, thrusting into you softly. And you suddenly understand why he wanted to stretch you out first, because fuck, is he big. You knew it already, having spent a lot of time sucking him off, but feeling every inch slide further and further into you makes the statement even more true in your mind. You whimper softly, and he pauses all movements completely, kissing both your cheeks lightly.

“You okay, angel?” He reaches down, rubbing your clit to help with anything you’re feeling. You nod, taking a breath. It’s not unbearable pain, just a dull ache from a foreign feeling, but the longer he remains still inside you, the more you want him to continue. You moan gently when he throbs lightly, wrapping a leg around his hip to pull him closer to you.  

“Fuck.” He whispers softly, staring down at where he’s bottomed out. He waits a moment, watching every expression on your face for any pain or discomfort. He starts to kiss along your neck and chest again, every kiss peppered with an unspoken vow of forever - knowing he had an unbreakable grip on your heart. You move your hips slightly, both of you moaning out when you squeeze around him. He rolls his pelvis into you, checking to see your response, and your eyes almost roll back from pleasure.

“Move. Please,” Your voice cracks and Grayson almost loses it at the expression on your face, knowing that this is all him. He’s the only man to ever make you feel this way, and if he had anything to do with it, it’d stay that way. He moves his hips again, watching as your face twists into pleasure, almost losing it at the way your velvet walls are gripping him. He picks up speed a little, still rubbing your clit consistently.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He rasps out, overwhelmed with deciding between to look at your face, breast moving with every thrust, or where his dick is entering and leaving your body. It’s almost like a sensory overload, and he prays he doesn’t cum too quickly to ruin this for you. You moan out loudly, not even having words to describe how you’re feeling, that being the only way to express how good he’s making you feel. Grayson thanks every higher power that the ocean is so loud, because between the wet noises from every thrust and your increasing moaning, he knows the two of you would’ve gotten caught in seconds.

“Fuck, angel. You’re doing so good for me, takin’ me so well.” You whimper loudly, eyes closing from his soft praises. He keeps that in mind, watching your reaction whenever he compliments you. He can tell your close, having spent enough time in between your legs to know when near cumming. Just as he thought, it only takes a few more seconds before you’re spilling on to his dick, back arching slightly. He stops, watching you so he can commit every moment to memory, kissing down your chest.  

“Aren’t you going to cum too?” You ask, opening one eye when you still feel him rock hard inside you. He looks down at you, wanting to shake his head at your expression. Here you are, recovering from your second orgasm, and you’re worried about him.

“About to angel, wanted to see you cum first.” He murmurs, kissing your neck once again.

“Cum for me, Grayson. Please, inside of me.” And fuck, he was close, but that does it for him, thrusting once, twice, three times before cumming deep inside of you, both of you moaning at the feeling. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath, kissing you lazily until he feels like he can speak again.

“How was it?” was the first question that comes to mind, not wanting for you to feel any regret.

“I think I have sand in my hair.” You respond.

“I meant the sex, you asshole.”

“It was perfect. You were perfect, amour.” He kisses you softly, moving your waist, so you’re closer to him. You pull back, and he takes you in under the moonlight, sandy hair (which he knows you’re going to bitch about later) and swollen lips. You look so dazed and love-stricken, and he’s sure that if he saw himself, he would have that same dopey expression on his face. He leans in to kiss you once more until you open your mouth to ask -

“Can we do that again?” He slips out of you, you shuddering at the emptiness that overtakes you.

“Whenever you want, angel.”

“Now?” It’s at that moment that Grayson notices his cum leaking out of you, dripping down your thigh, and he can feel his dick hardening again.

“I look like a disco ball.” You groan as the three of you walk in, Ali and Stella confidently leading the way.

“You look hot.” Ali assures, smiling in what you figure is supposed to be a comforting way. She had been the one to invite the two of you tonight, and a part of you feels bad for your miserable attitude, knowing that she just wanted to spend time with you.

“Warning: Dolan at 3 O’Clock.” Your other friend, Stella, whispers into her red solo cup, and you can feel your bad mood return. Turning your head slightly, you can see Grayson Dolan walking in with his entourage, already acting as if he owns the room.

You can hear Ali snapping at Stella, reminding her how they agreed not to point him out tonight, but all you can focus on is how arrogant Grayson looked.

The two of you had never gotten along, a wrong first date leaving each other permanently on the other’s shit list. Despite your disdain for another, the two of you ran in the same friend group, so you saw each other more often than you like. At this point, everyone knew to keep you two far away from each other unless they wanted a whole night of insults, fighting, and yelling.

“Remind me why you two hate each other again? It’s been like two years.” Stella asks nonchalantly, tilting her head as she holds up her drink.

“We just do. He was a dick on our date. Some people aren’t meant to get along.”

“Aw, you two just need to kiss and makeup.” Ali coos, fixing your hair.

“More like fuck and makeup. So what if you had a bad date. The two of you still have this weird sex thing that needs to be figured out.” Stella interjects.  

“I do not-“ Your friends start laughing at your loud objection, watching as your face grows hot in embarrassment.

“I do not want to fuck him!” You hiss, hiding your face from nosy onlookers.

“Why not? I would; he’s fucking hot.” Stella whispers, gesturing over to him. All three of you look over at where he’s standing against the kitchen counter, laughing loudly with his group of friends.

You hated to admit it, but she was right: he really was super attractive. He’s simply dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, denim jacket finishing everything off. It’s nothing special, but you hate the fact that he still somehow managed to look better than everyone else here.

He looks over, smirking when he sees your little group staring at him. All three of you turn away, doing a horrible job at trying to look inconspicuous. Your back is turned towards him as you fix your hair and smoothing out your dress. Ali’s eyes light up suddenly, and she’s whispering to Stella before turning back to you.

“Stella has to pee; we’ll be right back.” She rushes out while dragging Stella to the nearest bathroom. Before you can protest, Grayson’s taking their spot.

He’s chewing his gum obnoxiously, and you can’t help the way your eyes focus on how his jaw moves with every bite.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here tonight, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I was just leaving. Decided it’s not really for me anymore.” You get out, moving past him to walk to the door. You figured you can just call an Uber and text your two friends you were feeling sick. Before you can make it past, he grabs your arm to stop you.

“C’mon, it’s the last day of the year. Can’t you be nice to me just for tonight?” He asks, eyes shining with mischief.

“ Don’t you have some other girl to mess with?” You yank your wrist back, walking off as he follows you.

“Why? You jealous.” He asks, and you know that arrogant smirk is painted on his face.

“Over you? Hardly.” You keep moving until he says something that has you stopping in your tracks.

“Did you wear that dress for me tonight?” Your jaw clenches, annoyance washing over your body. However, you figure two can play this game, so you turn around, walking towards him with a flirtatious expression on your face. He’s looking down at you, appreciating the way your attitude has done a complete 180. You wrap your arms around his neck and bring his face towards yours, leaning in as if you’re going to kiss him.

“Fuck you.” You whisper, mouth millimeters away from his. You turn away, turning to look at him over your shoulder one last time. The irritated expression on his face and his clenched jaw should’ve warned you that you were playing with fire. Still, you simply keep walking forward, choosing to look for Ali and Stella.

Maybe you could stay a little longer to see how this plays out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fuck Grayson Dolan.

At this point, you weren’t sure if you were angrier at him or if you actually wanted to fuck him.

All you know is he was pushing every last button.

It started with constant flirting - just with everyone else besides you. You knew Grayson was a tease, but you swore he had given every girl at this party his signature charming smile. The one that screamed, 'I'm Grayson Dolan, and you're the only one here for  me.' You had pretended like you hadn’t seen red when he leaned down to whisper a joke in some girl's ear, winking at you when he notices the way your eyes had narrowed and your lips were puckered.

It only got worse when he decided he needed a refill on his drink, coming up to where you were standing in the hallway. He slyly placed his hands low on your waist, pressing up against you to squeeze by even though you both knew that there was more than enough space.

You were in the middle of debating on whether or not you should finally leave for good this time, figuring you shouldn’t have to subject yourself to this torture when you still have leftover takeout in your fridge.

“Hey, we need to talk to you. Can you meet us in the upstairs bedroom in like 5 minutes?” Ali appears out of nowhere, blonde curls messed up as if she’s been running her hands nervously through her hair. Stella just nods casually, and you look at the two of them suspiciously.

“What are you two planning?” You ask.

“Nothing! Upstairs. Five minutes!” Ali assures, kissing you on the cheek before walking off again. You can tell she’s drunk, smelling the lingering vodka shots on her breath. However, curiosity gets the better of you, and after five minutes, you’re slowly walking up the stairs.

“Ali? Stel?” You call out, getting nothing in response. You keep walking until you reach the end of the hallway, closed door in front of you. You open it, greeted with the sight of Grayson in front of you.

“What the fuck?” You both exclaim, the door closing behind you. You jangle the door handle, cursing under your breath when you realize it’s locked.

“We’re not letting you out until you guys kiss!” Ali calls out.

“You guys got 20 minutes until midnight.” Stella laughs, both still holding the door tightly to keep you from breaking through.

“Oh my God, we’re not fucking 12. This isn’t 7 minutes in heaven.”

“Less talking, more frenching!” Ali yells, giggling loudly as her heels slowly click away.

You roll your eyes, “You two are the fucking worst.” You kick the door before sliding down against it, tilting your head against the door.

“Your friends are weird.” are the first words out of Grayson’s mouth, and you roll your eyes.

“They mean well, they’re just really … stupid sometimes.”You get back up to your feet and start knocking on the door, hitting it with your palms, anything that could hopefully get a passerby’s attention.

“Can you stop banging on the door? It’s annoying.” Grayson mumbles out from where he’s sitting up on the bed after five minutes of your obnoxious knocking.

“I’m sorry, did you want to spend New Year’s locked in here with one another. I’m trying to get out.”

He leans back down on the bed, covering his eyes with his arms. “You realize it’s locked; we’re stuck in here. No one’s coming up here for a while.”

You hate to admit it, but you know he’s right. With only 20 minutes until midnight, everyone’s going to be downstairs, not wanting to miss the main event. You walk over to the dresser, sitting on top of it as you pull out your phone to find someone to text for an emergency rescue.

“We really should just sleep with one another.”

You nearly drop your phone in your lap from his sudden outburst. “I think that’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Why not? I think you’re hot; I know you think I’m hot. Stop- don’t try to argue with me; I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. Let’s just get this over with; clear start to 2021.” He looks over at you, raising an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes, “I’m not sleeping with you Grayson.”

“What, scared you might actually like it?” He pushes himself up off the mattress and stalks over to where you’re seated on top of the dresser. You start to feel uncharacteristically timid, not knowing how to react under his dark gaze. You don’t say anything, just watching the way his eyes rake over your entire body slowly.

He takes a deep breath, “If I kiss you right now, will you let me?” You wait a second before throwing on caution to the wind, and nodding, deciding to give in to whatever tension is growing between you.

He leans down, softly kissing you before coming back to gauge your reaction.

“If you kiss anything like the way you fuck, this is gonna fucking suck.” You whisper, smiling at the way his face drops. He pulls you into him, forcing his lips onto yours roughly. It’s messy, teeth clashing into one another, noses bumping, and you love it. You didn’t want softness, you didn’t want intimacy, you wanted Grayson to let out everything he felt towards you.

He starts to roughly mark down your neck, leaving dark marks, and you whimper, desperately pulling his jacket off his shoulders. He leans back slightly, pulling his shirt over his head and your mouth falls slightly. You take in all the deep contours and ridges, not even missing the way he flexes briefly.

“Like what you see?” He rasps out, pants growing tighter at your open arousal.

“Just because we’re fucking doesn’t mean I’m another one of your fans. I still fucking hate you.” You pull your dress off and spread your legs slightly on the dresser. You mentally thank Ali for forcing you to skip wearing a bra because the way Grayson’s face zeros in on your bare tits has you whimpering softly. He moves even closer to you.

“Doesn’t seem like you hate me right now.” He whispers, eyes darkening at the dark spot growing on your underwear. His arms are on either side of your thighs as he’s standing in between your legs. You can feel the heat coming off from his body, close enough that you can pick up the subtle nerves in his energy under waves of excitement.

“Whatever.” You’re trying your hardest to remain unaffected, calm under his intense gaze. Still, between the lack of touch and the way he’s looking like he can’t figure out how he wants to ruin you first, you start to squirm.

He pulls roughly at your underwear; you watch as his biceps bulge until the fabric falls apart in his hands. Whatever facade of calmness you were trying to maintain flies out the window. You swallow deeply, eyes wide as he tosses the ruined underwear over his shoulder with a cocky smirk. The smug look on his face is enough for you to snap back to normal and return to your usual backtalk.

“Watch it, asshole. Those aren’t cheap.”

“Trust me, I’ll buy you two more to make up for it. Now shut up; you talk too much.” With that, he’s leaning down and sucking your clit hard.

You’re not quick to compliment Grayson, but you can admit he’s incredible at eating pussy. He genuinely sounds like he’s ready to die in between your legs, quietly groaning to himself with every suck and lick. Your breath hitches at the imagery, and he’s slowly licking up your slit, savoring the way you taste for him. He gives you a few more licks before he starts sucking at your clit again, and you can feel yourself growing closer.

“Fuck, Gray- I’m about to cu-“ Before you can finish, he’s pulling away and smiling up at you with shiny lips.

“Fuck you.” You practically spit out, and he just laughs shortly, amusement barely hidden in his face.

“Before I make you cum, I wanna hear you ask nicely.” He’s leaning into you again, lips hovering yours, mirroring the same position you had him in earlier. You push his shoulder, hoping to give you some distance, but he stays firmly planted in place.

“If you think I’m gonna beg for your sorry excuse of a dick -“

He cuts you off, fingers slipping inside you, and he starts curling his fingers, your back arching into his touch. With how close you were to your orgasm, you’re falling apart in a matter of seconds. You start whimpering out his name, and he stills all his movements, thumb hovering over your clit.

“Beg.” He demands, and neither of you misses the way you tightly clench around him from the change of tone in his voice.

You stare at him long until he lightly brushes your clit, reminding you of what you’re missing in your stubbornness. You sigh dramatically before swallowing your pride and saying:

“Grayson, fuck me.” He stares at you pointedly, and you sigh again.

“Please, Gray. Want you to fuck me, please.” You whisper. It’s not a lot, but he knows that’s probably the most he’s going to get out of you at this moment, so he just smiles proudly and starts moving his fingers again. The coil in your stomach starts to grow tighter, and your toes curl when you start cumming all of your fingers. You cry out, nails scratching down his stomach as he continues to move his hand to work you through your orgasm.

He leans back, sucking up everything on his fingers before unbuckling and taking his pants and underwear off. You were glad he had made you cum before because he was big, bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with before. He brushes his dick over your entrances a few times, tapping his dick lightly on your clit. You whimper slightly, and he winks, arrogant persona back in full force.

“You’re still a dick.” You whisper, no real sting to your words.

“Yeah, I know.” He strokes his dick lightly before sinking in, and both of you moan out from the initial feeling.

He starts snapping his hips relentlessly, not giving you time to adjust to his pace. Your eyes begin to roll back, only able to focus on the wood digging into your back, arm wrapped around your waist, and dick ramming roughly into you. You’re moaning out constantly, nothing able to come to mind to express how good he’s making you feel.

However, Grayson is starting to get frustrated, not satisfied with the way you’ve laid out in front of him. He picks you up, holding you close to him before dropping you carelessly on the bed. Before you can say anything, he’s twisting your body around, so you’re on all fours in front of him and is sliding back into you, taking you from behind. You’re arching underneath him, allowing him to reach you even deeper as you moan out. He’s practically fucking you into the mattress, and from your constant sounds and ass jiggling in front of him, he’s releasing a guttural groan.  

He places an arm next to your head while wrapping a large hand around your throat, lightly cutting off your air. His body is entirely over yours, encasing your entire body in his large frame. It all starts to get to be too overwhelming, and your mind starts to go blank from the pleasure, pulling at the railings to get away from how hard he’s fucking into you while also leaning back into him to get more.

“Stop running; thought you wanted to see how good I can fuck you.” He moves his hand to slap your ass, and his dick jumps from the way you start squeezing around him. He rubbing your ass, ready to spank you again, when the both of you stop from loud screams coming below you. You both hear yells about countdowns and New Year’s and Grayson’s leaning down, rutting himself into you before whispering in your ear -

“How much you wanna bet I can get you to cum before midnight?”

10!

You didn’t think he could go any faster, but his movements pick up, hitting your g-spot with every movement of his hips.

9!

He brushes his fingers against your lip, watching as you slowly take them into your mouth and start sucking. You don’t miss the way he lightly swears when you lightly nip at the pads of his fingers. “Fucking brat.” He mutters before he’s wrapping his hand around your throat again.

8!

He moves his hand, going back up on his knees so he can hold you still as he keeps thrusting into you.

7!

With the way he’s gripping your hips and pulling you back into him, you already know you’re gonna be bruised with his fingerprints on your hip tomorrow.

6!

You start to fall forward, and all you can think about is how badly you want to cum.

5!

He starts rubbing at your clit, and you swear you can feel him deep in your stomach, knowing that he’s going to be responsible for your limp tomorrow.

4!

“If only I knew earlier that all I needed to do to get you to shut up was to fuck you properly” were the words coming out, and you hate yourself for moaning out louder at the way he says it.

3!

You can tell he’s starting to get close by the way he starts slowing down, choosing to grind his hips slowly into you.

2!

You haven’t stopped moaning, volume picking up until you’re practically sobbing into the pillow. You briefly think how grateful you are for the screaming in the living room when Grayson smacks your ass hard before groaning in your ear, “Fucking cum, Y/N.”

1!

The tight feeling in your stomach snaps, and a small spurt of wetness releases, you squirting into his dick and thighs. You practically collapse forward, suddenly exhausted, and it only takes a few more thrusts before Grayson’s pulling out to cum on your lower back.

Happy New Year’s, Y/N.” He whispers in a cocky tone, pride in how he practically has you reduced to nothing underneath him.

You break about 15 traffic laws on the drive to his house, arriving at record speed. And yet, it was all worth it when you walk into his room. 

“Took you long enough.” 

Your mouth instantly starts to water. He’s already naked, stretched out casually amongst his bed. Like you suspected, he’s begun. One hand is casually wrapped around his dick, loosely jerking off. The other is behind his head, causing his biceps to flex naturally in a way that makes your head swim. Everything about Grayson radiates arrogance right down to his smug smirk at how he's rendered you speechless.  

Choosing to ignore his snide comment, you walk over to him while stripping. Forgoing any teasing or foreplay, you immediately take his dick into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks instantly. It had been a while, you justify. 

"Fuck-" he lets out a guttural moan, eyes glazed over as he watches you lean back from his dick and slowly start suckling the tip. You gradually stop sucking and drizzle spit on his dick, mixing precum and saliva to get his cock sloppy enough to jerk off. You kiss both of his inner thighs before he finally speaks again.

"Suck it, Y/N. Please." His voice cracks. 

He sounds wrecked already, and you've barely done anything. You smile prettily at him. You dip your head further and further until his dick is grazing the back of your throat. As you go back up, you twist your hand to follow your mouth up to the tip before hollowing your cheeks and dipping your head again. 

"Fuck. I missed your mouth." He groans, hands going up to grab your hair into a loose ponytail. You try to not let his words affect you, but you can't help but think about whatever girl had been in the same position as you. Whichever girl had sucked his dick last and hear the exact same thing. A sense of jealousy slides over you, and you start sucking faster, moaning softly.

He moans at the feeling of the vibrations and leans his head back onto his pillow. You take him further and further until at his base, drooling as you deepthroat him. He holds your head down, only letting go when tears start to form in your eyes. You take a few breaths before going down to kiss and suck on one of his balls, the other hand reaching down to touch your clit. 

"Fuck, you're so good to me. The only one who can suck me off like this" He moans, music to your ears. You whimper softly around his balls before going back to his dick. His moans start to get louder and needier, a sign he's close to finishing before he's yanking you off his dick altogether. He pants a few, trying to regain his composure as you stare at him with a brow arched.

"Don't want to come just yet." He grits out as something shiny and reflective catches your eyes. 

"That's new," you think to yourself. You can't help the crude jealous feeling that comes back when you notice his new tooth gem. You'd known about it, having already seen the pictures of her and what's-her-face on Instagram. But seeing it in person just hit you differently. Before you could think too long, Grayson, as if sensing something was wrong, grabs your neck bringing you down to his level until your nose to nose. His hazel eyes scan your face slowly before bringing you in for a deep kiss, tongue slowly entering your mouth. You move to straddle him, lining up his dick to your center. As you slowly sink down, he breaks away from you to moan loudly, eyes shutting instantaneously. 

You moan, adjusting yourself to the sudden fullness before slowly rising up and down to bounce on his dick. Grayson watches for a few moments as your tits bounce up and down, before sitting up to take your right nipple into his mouth. You whine, clenching purposefully around his dick as you speed up. He lets go of your tit, moaning and reaching down to play with your clit. 

"Fuck, you ride my dick so good." He says breathlessly. Grayson can't help but realize how wrecked you look. Hair tangled, makeup smudged from taking his dick so well, and eyes rolling back in your head. It makes him dizzy, and he can't help but close his eyes to stop from cumming right there. 

"Cum for me." You beg raspily, throat already hurting from sucking his dick. 

"You first." He smirks, reaching down to play with your clit again. He plants his feet down and starts thrusting into you, game over then and there. Your moans begin to pick up in pitch and frequency, and before you know it, you're cumming all over his dick. 

"Fuck, Grayson," You whine, squeezing your eyes shut as he continues to jackhammer into you, not stopping for a second. He pulls you down to sloppily kiss you before feeling his own orgasm approaching. "Please cum for me. Want to feel it in me."

That does it for him, groaning as he cums straight into her. He slows down, stopping completely when he feels his orgasm die down. You both are silent for a second, processing what happened before you move to leave.

"I missed you, Y/N." He places a hand on your hip to stop you. You look down at him as he stares up at you, hoping to convince you to stay. 

"I know, but you seemed busy." You sigh. He only looks at you before responding. 

"I know, it was just family stuff." He stumbles through, lying straight through his teeth. You choose to ignore his lie and not to tell him that someone had sent you pictures of him and what's-her-face leaving some random party. 

"Please stay. I know you don't like to, but just tonight, please." He begs. 

He had approached you earlier this afternoon with a broad grin. As easily excitable as he is, this didn’t feel out of the ordinary to you, so you simply raise an eyebrow while continuing to sip your coffee.

“Are you finished with your final yet, Y/N ?” He whispers out of caution that you might still be testing.

“Two more questions, then I’m all yours baby. What’s wrong?” A sense of worry washes over you since you know he wouldn’t interrupt you unless it’s crucial. He’d grown accustomed to your new routine since the pandemic began. After asking (begging) for you to quarantine with him, he soon realized that the time he thought you two would spend together was taken up by quizzes, essays, and exams as you finished up your senior year of college. While he was more than willing to take second-place to your studies, he was a little antsy for you to be finished.

“Nothing. I just wanted to show you something out in the shed.” Now, this you do roll your eyes at. While you were occupied with studies, he was out in that godforsaken tiny shed almost every day. Secretly, you were glad Ethan had foregone the bed idea because that was the only thing getting him to come to bed to you every night. You assure you’ll be out in a few minutes and shoo him away to finish the test that will ensure your bachelors.

Only twenty minutes later, you feel as if a crushing weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. You crack your neck before sighing and closing your laptop, elated that the four years of your undergrad were finally behind you. You pull out your phone before remembering your promise to Grayson. You walk out the back kitchen doors and turn the corner, not expecting what was behind it.

Your mouth drops. Sitting in front of you is a shiny, white Porsche complete with a giant red bow on the hood. Your boyfriend sits on top of the back seats, dressed in a blue button-down and black slacks. Grayson’s beaming as he holds a bouquet of roses out towards you. You try to think of something, willing anything to come to your brain, but shock leaves you speechless so you start tearing up instead.

Grayson, mistaking your tears for anger or sadness, is by your side in a minute.

“Angel, what’s wrong? Do you not like it? I wanted to wrap it to match mine, but Ethan said it was a bad idea. But- but we can always go to the dealer and switch it out if you don’t like it or I can -“ He stammers, immediately worried that he had disappointed you. You cut him off with a deep kiss, relieving any worry that was flying through his brain as he grabs your waist to hold you closer.

“No, it’s perfect. You’re perfect. Everything’s perfect. But why?” You question.

“Well, I wanted to do something special for you since you finished school today. And since we can’t travel anywhere, I figured this was the next best thing. You’ve worked so hard these past four years, Angel; I just wanted to show you how proud I am of you and how much I love you.” He explains, scratching the back of his neck nervously. Your heart melts at this. While you had expected maybe a five-star dinner and hopefully some marathon sex, you had no idea your boyfriend would do something so extravagant for you. Never in your wildest dreams did you believe someone would care for you like this, and adoration begins to fill your entire being.

“Grayson, I- I don’t know what to say.” You’re astounded, and every time you look at the car, you’re speechless again.

“Hopefully that you like it. It was kind of expensive.” He jokes, now reassured that your silence is a good thing and not out of anger. You swat his chest before wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. Just as his hands start to slip towards your ass, you pull away from him.

“Thank you, Grayson. For the car, for letting me stay here, for everything. I don’t deserve you-“

“Don’t start with that.” He cuts you off, leaning in so your foreheads are touching, “You do plenty for me, and if we’re honest, I don’t deserve you. You’re beautiful, intelligent, funny. There’s nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for you, and you can’t change that.” Before you can even respond, you notice Ethan making his way out through the back door.

“Yo, what are you two still doing out here? Don’t you have reservations at six?” He yells out, towel over his shoulder and obviously not expecting the two of you to be interrupting his future tanning session. You turn back to your boyfriend, confused as Grayson sighs exasperatedly and looks up to the sky.

“I haven’t told her about that yet, dickhead.” Grayson yells back to his brother.

“Well, can you hurry up? I want to lay out for a bit, and the weather app says it’s supposed to rain at four.” Ethan asks. You can’t help but giggle, knowing Ethan’s just oblivious to the very intimate moment you and Grayson were having. Grayson huffs, annoyed that his brother is ruining his plan before turning to you.

“I booked us reservations at Il Cielo.” Your eyes widen at the mention of your favorite restaurant.

“But how? It’s been booked for weeks. We couldn’t even get in for my birthday.” You question.

“The owner’s daughters are fans, so I promised a couple pictures tonight in order to get a table. Now go get dressed, we can take your car if you want.” He explains. Images of you two dressed up while Grayson drives the new Porsche fills your mind and you slightly shiver. Grayson, raising an eyebrow to your reaction, leans down for another kiss with you. Right when Grayson’s tongue enters your mouth is when you hear the fake-retching coming from the other twin.

“Bro, go away!” Grayson groans, holding you closer to him. You’re both leaned up against the car as you turn to watch the interaction between the two siblings.

“Fine. But first, let me get a picture of the happy couple. You’d kill me if you didn’t get to flex how good of a boyfriend you are.” He says, grabbing his phone. Grayson moves to argue, but you silence him, posing for the camera instead. You both smile, looking happier and more in love with each other then you’ve ever been. And you can’t help smiling wider when you see the tag and pictures on Twitter.

It only took a few minutes before the hate comments started flooding in. You had set your phone down for a quick shower but returned to notification after notification. It was non-stop dm’s, tweets, and even responses to IG photos from 2016 about how you weren’t good enough for Grayson, how you were just using him, and how he would eventually find someone better.

Usually, you could just ignore it, turn your phone off and turn a blind eye to the negativity spewed at you. But you were already emotionally overwhelmed, and you couldn’t help the small part of you that agreed. What had you done to deserve a man who could drop thousands of dollars on you at a whim? You weren’t impressive, weren’t an influencer or a model, just an average girl who managed to catch his eye.  

Your phone screen starts to blur as tears form in your eyes. You try to stop the burning feeling in your throat. Still, fat tears begin to roll down your cheeks onto the screen as you start sniffling, falling victim to your deepest insecurities. You were so caught up in yourself that you hadn’t even noticed Grayson making his way down the hall.

“Y/N, are you almost ready? We have to leave for the restaurant soon.” He yells towards his room, making his way to you before noticing your sobs. You look up at him before sniffling again, feeling sorry that he had to see you like this.

“What's wrong, Angel?” He asks gently, moving to sit next to you on the edge of the bed. He wraps an arm around your bare shoulder, careful not to move the towel you had wrapped around you from your shower.

“Nothing, it’s nothing. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be ready.” You attempt to reassure, moving to wipe the tears from your eye. You wince, noticing how unbelievable you sound even to yourself, and you can already tell Grayson is unconvinced.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He asks. You nod, not meeting his eyes, looking down at your lap instead. He softly grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his intense stare. “So, what’s wrong?”

“God, it’s really nothing. Some fans on Twitter had just tweeted me some stuff and -“ Before you could even finish, he’s grabbing his phone to look at the replies, nostrils flaring as he reads what fans had mentioned you in.

“It’s honestly nothing, G. I was just being overdramatic.” You promise, wanting to drop it at this point and continue with the perfect day you two were having.

He’s silent for a second, which worries you more than anything since he always has something to say. You rub his thigh, trying to comfort him before he grabs your hand.

“You know none of that is true. There is no one better, never will be. My future begins and ends with you.” He whispers, sounding even more hurt than you. You stare at him widely, dumbfounded at the bold confession Grayson just dropped on you. Taking your silence as disbelief, he moves your hand towards his mouth so he can start kissing your wrist.

“Believe me when I say, Y/N, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. “ He growls, dropping your wrist to move in front of you. “What can I do to get that through your head?”

With that, he grabs your head roughly, bringing you into a hot kiss. You immediately whimper, wrapping your hands around his neck to pull him closer to you. His tongue slides against yours desperately as he rips your towel off you, tossing it carelessly over his shoulder.

You pull away from each other, panting with desire and trying to catch your breath as Grayson goes down to suck warm, wet kisses onto your neck.

Moaning his name, you move to unbutton his shirt shakily while he continues to move down your neck to your chest. You shrug his shirt off before scratching your nails down his chest as he takes one nipple into his mouth.

Twirling the other nipple in his fingers, you arch into him before he’s switching to the other one and repeating this process. He continues like that for a while until you moan and whimper underneath him, trying to grind up into his lap.

“Grayson, please. Touch me.” You mewl, hips bucking when he drags a finger through your slit. Grayson sucks the mess off his finger before looking down at you darkly, hazel eyes turning a deep brown. He kneels down, spreading your legs and placing his large hands on your hips to hold you down. He places soft, open mouth kisses on the apex of your thighs and meets your gaze before speaking again -

“Mine. You’ll always be mine. Nothing can change that.” He promises. You clench around nothing, feeling like you could cum just from his words of reassurance. He notices how you react and sharply inhales.

“Fuck, so pretty.” He breaths out, and you’re not even sure you’re supposed to hear that, watching Grayson lose himself in the desire to express how deep his love runs for you.

He spreads your lips apart with two fingers before licking at your clit softly. He licks it again before pulling you towards him with a long, slow lick watching as you fall apart.

You already knew this was going to take no time on your end, but watching his intense gaze on you causes you to produce more and more wetness, to the point where you feel like you’re leaking onto the mattress.

He stops at your clit, circling it a few times with his tongue before taking it into his mouth. He suckles on it, watching as you fall back onto the mattress with a high pitch whine.

“Grayson.” You moan shakily, moving to get closer to his mouth.

You start rolling your hips onto his face, grabbing your tits to ground yourself somehow. Your moaning consistently now, not knowing how else to convey how good he’s making you feel other than with high-pitched sounds.

He places his arms under your thighs, pulling you closer to him, and starts making out with your pussy, savoring every sweet drop that comes out of you. He sucks harder before pulling back and rubbing at your clit with two fingers.

“So good, Angel. Perfect for me.” He gasps, lips swollen and red. His mouth is dripping, and he shakily runs a hand through his hair before diving back in.

He focuses on your clit this time, sucking hard while reaching to slide two fingers inside of you. He drags them back and forth, feeling you clenching down hard on him.

“Grayson, I’m so close.” You moan, getting louder and louder as he continues to flood your body with pleasure. He sucks on your clit even harder before dragging his fingers against a specific spot, and you’re suddenly overwhelmed with white-hot pleasure. You scream as your orgasm rolls through you in shockwaves, simultaneously pulling away and trying to get closer to him.

He doesn’t take his mouth off you and groans loudly at how your pussy pulsates in his mouth. He notices he’s grinding in the air and presses a palm down to relieve some of the pressure in his pants.

You lay there with an arm over your eyes, taking ragged breaths trying to calm yourself down. Grayson finally removes himself from you and goes up to lay next to you, stroking your hair and moving your arm so you can look at him.

“Never has a man ever made me cum that hard.” You mutter. He laughs at that before he turns to kiss you softly, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips and tongue. His kissing grows sloppier and sloppier until he’s slotting himself in between your thighs.

You reach down to unbutton his pants and pull them and his briefs down as far as you can until he leans back to remove them altogether.

He gets back in position, kissing you some more while his rock-hard cock brushes up against your thigh. He grinds into you as you pull away from him.

“Gray?”

“Yeah.” he murmurs hotly, continuing to grind into you.

“Fuck me, please.” You purr.

He breathes shakily and lines up with you, rolling his hips into you slowly. You both moan at the first thrust, his guttural and deep and yours high-pitched and whiny. He slowly grinds into you one, two, three times before picking up and thrusting into you properly.

He grabs one of your legs, placing it over his shoulder, allowing him to reach inside you deeper. He speeds up, overwhelming you with the relentless snap of his hips.

“Grayson.” you cry as he reaches down to rub your clit. He groans, unsure whether to look at your aroused eyes, your bouncing tits, or how effortlessly his dick enters and leaves your pussy. He tries to look at all three before groaning, “So fucking hot, Y/N.” He leans down to kiss and suck at your neck before growling in your ear, “Don’t give a fuck what anyone says. You’re so perfect for me. So wet and tight.”

At this point, he’s speaking incoherently. So overwhelmed by how well you’re taking him that he’s saying anything and everything that comes to his brain. That doesn’t stop his words from going directly to your clit, and you moan loudly at his words, begging for him to fuck you harder.

He does as asked, and it isn't until he leans down to kiss you again that you feel your second orgasm hit you like a freight train. You cry out while you dig sharp nails into his back, riding out your orgasm as he continues to pound into you. His thrusts stutter as you clamp down on him like a vice. He continues to roll his hips while cursing lowly into your ear.

“Cum for me, G. Please. I need it.” You whisper while scratching lightly up his back, hoping this will edge him on to finish. Sure enough, his hips stutter as his dick swells before hotly cumming inside you.  He groans out loudly, rocking his hips slowly into you before coming to a complete stop. He lays down on top of you, grabbing a blanket to cover the two of you.

You run your hands through his hair as he softly kisses your forehead.

“I love you, no matter what. Don’t listen to Twitter.” He confirms, sleepily. You hum in agreement, kissing his neck as a response.

“I love you more.”

You both are quiet, the silence lulling you to sleep before Grayson is rapidly jerking himself out of you. You look at his wild expression, concerned.