#g concept

I’m not sure if it’s a kink or just a way I instinctively show love or an obvious manifestation of the only way I feel valuable to someone but I love taking care of people when they’re sick or whatever, especially my man🥺 like be a whiney lil baby shits annoying but also cute

It starts when they wheel him into the waiting room of the outpatient surgical center. You frown at him when you catch his eyes, which are swollen and red above his even more swollen and red nose. His bandages are already stained the tiniest bit pink, and you hope you can remember exactly how the nurse told you to change them by the time you get home.

“Baby,” you pout, reach out to caress his cheek gently. Grayson leans his head into your hand slightly, his eyes drooping sleepily as the cocktail of pain meds, leftover anesthesia, and the pain itself courses through his body. “You okay?”

He just groans a bit and sighs when your fingers push up to scratch at his hair. It’s messy and sticking up at odd angles, no doubt from whatever devices they had on him during surgery.

You give him a little smile behind your mask; you can’t deny he looks kind of pathetic, but it only makes him that much more endearing.

You fill out the discharge papers the nurse hands you, make Grayson open his eyes enough to sign them, then head out the automatic doors with your 200 pound baby in tow.

“Baby they hurt me,” he whines as the two of you pull out of the parking lot.

You bite your lip so he can’t see your grin, even though his eyes are closed anyway. It makes you ache a little to know he’s in that much pain, but it’s also low key funny. And he’s still Grayson with his pullover unzipped, showing off his chain and that flash of bare skin and chest hair.

You squeeze his hand where he’s got them interlaced tightly on his lap. “It was to make you feel better, babe, remember? We’ll get your meds filled, I’ll order some pho... sound good?”

Grayson makes an agreeable hum, or what you think is such, and leans his head back against the headrest. “You da besssttt.”

“Oh god.”

Once you’re home, Ethan helps guide his brother in the house with Grayson’s arm slung over his shoulder while you make a pillow tower on his bed. He has to stay propped up for a few days so that all the blood and surgery stuff doesn’t drain inside instead of out. A stomach sleeper through and through, Grayson isn’t happy when you and Ethan settle him in bed and he’s forced to stay sitting almost upright, but he’s too tired to put up much of a fight. Especially when you sidle up next to him and rub comforting circles up and down his chest and belly until he’s relaxed enough to knock back out.

While he rests, you head back out just long enough to grab his painkillers from the pharmacy and to pick up the pho you promised earlier.

The rest of the day after is spent lounging in bed with him as he slowly comes back to his right mind. He’s reluctant for you to leave his side in the one or two attempts you’ve made to leave him be for a bit, but you’re hardly complaining. With a couple of wakeheart candles lit, you cuddle up to him while watching movies, feed him bits of tofu from your chopsticks, sit behind him with him between your legs and give him all the back scratches he could ever want.

Eventually, you drag him out of bed and into the shower, where you sit him on the bench and wash his hair for him. Let him run his hands up and down your body lazily, appreciatively. He obviously doesn’t have the capacity to do more, but the simple feel of his hands on your hips and waist and ass is nice for the both of you.

“Y’know,” he says once you’ve settled back into bed, feeling refreshed and sleepy. He yawns widely and slides down his pillows as far as he can, until he meets your discerning look and grins as best he can beneath his fresh set of bandages you had applied after the shower. “I wasn’t kidding in the car.”

You raise a brow. “What are you talking about?”

His eyelids are already drooping, cutting off your view of the pretty hazel. He smacks his lips in that adorable way he does when he’s truly exhausted and sighs. “You really are da best. Da bestest, actually.”

You throw your head back with a giggle and lean over to kiss his cheek. “I think the drugs must be kicking in again.”

“Maybe,” he hums, puckering his lips blindly, as his eyes are now shut and refusing to open for anything. “Night. Love you.”

Listen we know how intense Grayson can be with anything or anyone he’s even remotely passionate about. But it’s so second nature to him to feel things so strongly, I don’t think he’d even realize what was going through his head or his heart until he was deep in the moment.

The whole thing definitely starts with that kind of heavy makeout where they’re both naked and every bit of skin is touching. Hands in each other’s hair, nails dragging across heated skin, breath hot and wet as their lips can’t decide where they need to be. It’s not that frenzied, crazed energy, but it’s intense and intimate.

She sucks him off for a while — nothing crazy, just enjoying spending time between his legs and watching him feel good because of her. He likes to watch her, too, sitting relaxed against the pillows so he can have full access to reach down and stroke her cheek, wipe away the wetness from her eyes and smear the bubbles of saliva around her smiling lips when she lifts off to catch her breath. All while maintaining his view and admiring this girl he’s so ready and willing to put his all into.

He lets her work him up until he feels himself start to climb that hill to the point of no return, and he’s suddenly desperate to have his face buried in her pussy. They switch places, and he wastes no time getting down to business. He throws her legs over his broad shoulders and reaches between them to spread her lips before diving right in.

Grayson revels in the quiet, wanton mewls she puffs out, moaning almost to himself as he tastes her over and over again. Shivers when she digs the fingers of both hands into his hair and says his name in that breathy, high-pitched voice. She’s beautiful and delicious and he can’t believe he gets to do this for her, to her, with her. Together.

He makes her cum with their fingers interlaced by her hips, and he follows them with his mouth as they lift and squirm while he helps drag it out for her. She’s still panting and whimpering his name when he crawls up her sweaty body, her thighs trembling as they manage to wrap around his waist when they’re face-to-face once again. She clutches his cheeks and drags him down for a wet, passionate kiss, and locks her ankles over his ass to push his hips down to meet hers.

Grayson moans into her mouth mid-kiss and reaches down to guide himself inside her, gasping shakily at the hot clutch of her walls around him. She’s telling him to fuck her, but cliche as it is, they both know it’s more than just a nice fuck they need. It’s that kind of sex that has emotion and real meaning, where energy is passed between one another and you walk away feeling even closer to that person. There’s no other way to say it — it’s making love.

He does love her. And she loves him. They tell each other as much with their bodies, and even through their words for the first time. Grayson will admit to being the first one to blurt it out, but only because he couldn’t keep it within him even if he tried.

Somehow, through all of his feelings, he manages to keep his pace steady and deep, exactly what they need. It never becomes desperate or frantic, despite the level of emotion between them. There’s so much eye contact and gentle but pleading encouragements, heightening the need to please one another and get there together.

Time is irrelevant, and neither could say how long or short the period was that he spent inside her. All that mattered was that when she came, there was nothing on his mind other than her. Her pleasure was his, and watching her fall apart beneath him, because of him, is ultimately what sent him over the edge more than anything.

Ugh love this. The idea of you completely naked under him while he’s fully clothed in a soft t-shirt and some shorts that do nothing to hide how hard he is. Kissing you way too softly compared to the filth that pours out from those plump pink lips.

“You look so good. Can smell that sweet pussy from here, too.” His voice is deep and unwavering, the vibrato practically a tether to your pussy that clenches when he speaks like that. “You thinkin’ about me?”

“Only you. Always you.”

“What do you like when I fuck you, baby? You like it slow?”

He’s admiring how flushed your cheeks are while you rub slow circles on your clit, fascinated by the way your eyes are unwavering from his as you nod.

“Use your words, and I might touch you.”

Fuck. You swallow down a moan. “Slow. Deep. You get so deep.”

A growl rumbles deep in Grayson’s chest, but he still doesn’t move those big hands from where they’re resting by your head. He grins and nuzzles his nose against your temple.

“More, please.”

That moan finally escapes, and you slip your fingers down to trace the wetness leaking out of your center. You slide one inside with a little gasp before gathering your thoughts enough to indulge his request. He had asked politely, after all. And you really, really want his thick fingers to finally replace your own after playing this game for a while now.

“You eat me out so good, Gray. I’ve never had anyone do it so fucking good.”

You shift your hand, fully intending on giving him a taste, but he can already sense this and he’s not having it. He captures your wrist in his big hand and pins it above your head, gathering your other one with it as well and moving his lips straight to your ear.

“Cuz you taste like heaven,” he whispers, hot breath tickling your sensitive skin and making your squirm uncontrollably beneath him. Your pussy throbs, wet and neglected, and he nips your lobe with more pressure than he intends. Not that you mind. Especially when he follows it with a quick, apologetic suckle and murmurs, “is that how I should make you cum?”

You whine desperately and arch your hips in a futile attempt to meet his. He ‘tsks’ a couple of times and moves his lips to your neck. “Not yet, baby.” He makes it to your collarbone with sweet, almost innocent kisses, only to follow the trail back up with his tongue in a sinful swipe. “I could always go with my fingers, too, you know. How does that sound?”

You’re not sure how much more of this you can take. You can’t believe he has had the patience to even make it this far, but he’s clearly enjoying himself.

“God, Gray, just fuck me, please!”

Grayson grunts, and sucks a full on hickey into the pulse point under your jaw. You’ll reprimand him later, but for now it just feels too good for you to care about the extra concealer you’re going to have to use.

“Gotta tell me how,” he says. There’s a catch in his breath that gives your promise that he’s breaking down. “More.”

If that’s what he wants, you’ll give it to him. Anything to get him inside you in one way or the other. “I want your dick inside me! It’s so fuckin big, baby. Feels so good when you give it to me hard. You know just how I like it. I need it, please!”

“Jesus,” he exhales, letting out a breathless laugh before kissing you so deep you feel it in your toes. “You’re killing me.”

Idk why but I’m convinced Grayson would be the worst person to grocery shop with lol mostly bc I know I’m the worst person to grocery shop w bc I pick up everything and read every label and compare items and I totally picture him doing that. So after nitpicking all the produce, getting some essentials from the canned aisle, it would be a lot of 

“Grayson can we please just get the same salsa we both like that we always get?” after he’s picked up about five different jars.

“But babe, this one has serranos and jalepenos and there’s no cilantro!” 

“No cilantro?”

“None.”

“Alright, throw it in the basket.”

Grayson grins and wraps his arms around your middle from behind as you start to push the cart forwards, kissing your neck. “See, what would you do without me here?”

I’ve been asked to write this a lot and for some reason I just can’t think of a way to make it into a whole blurb that I like. Maybe as a lil head cannon tho I could see:

Lots and lots of kisses that he tries to keep soft and sweet but that end up getting ravenous, only for him to calm down again when he remembers he wants to make this slow and special.

The most foreplay he’s ever done to make sure you’re completely ready.

Eye contact — so much of it, so he can check if you’re okay the whole time.

Him secretly losing his shit in his head, because he’s got enough of that macho man character in him to have his ego soaring through the roof at the idea to have been the first and only man ever inside you.

Him trying to be soft, though, and making sure every touch is purposeful and pleasurable for you. Making sure every thrust is just right as he tries to find the angle you like best.

And, of course, him getting himself so worked up from the thought of being your first and trying to go slow that he busts as soon as you start to cum. And he’s still panting when you snuggle up to him, so incredibly satisfied but also eager to keep exploring, and he has to remind you that he needs a few minutes.

Ugh yes like just imagine how warm he is. Arm thrown across your waist with your legs tangled together. His skin smells like sleep. He always looks so boyish in the mornings, despite the beard you love so much and the sharp jaw that makes you weak in the knees. His button nose and pouty lips and sleep-heavy cheeks are nothing short of adorable as you watch him through fuzzy eyes.

You both start waking up and you roll completely on top of him, which makes him grunt deep in his chest, but you feel his tired little smile against your forehead as he wraps his thick arms around you to hold you closer.

You tuck your face into his neck, breathing him in as you both awaken more while simultaneously sinking into each other deeper. Eventually, you lift your head slightly and kiss the shell of his ear before mumbling into it, “coffee?”

His voice is hoarse and deep and makes you shiver when he answers, “yes please.”

It takes forever for you to get your body to separate from the comfort of his, but you manage to slip out of the covers, do your business, and make your way to the kitchen.

When you return to the bedroom with two steaming cups of black coffee, you can appreciate him from a whole new perspective. He hadn’t bothered to pull the sheets back over himself after you had left him, and the way they’re draped across his nude, sculpted body looks like someone did it on purpose for a provocative art study or something. He’s got an arm shoved under his pillow, his other hand resting lazily across his belly. He looks huge and soft at the same time; you’re not sure if you’d rather devour him, or just take all morning to appreciate him with innocent (okay, semi-innocent) touches of your hands and lips.

You set his mug on his nightstand, then straddle him again so you can press gentle kisses all over his handsome face.

“Wake up, baby,” you whisper, scratching gently at his beard.

Grayson groans and opens his eyes enough to take in the sight of you on top of him. He must have been more awake than you thought, because it only takes a second for him to smile up at you and for his hands to settle heavily on your hips.

You cup his cheeks. “I made coffee.”

He glances at the cup, then fixes his gaze back on you with a playful grin. “Thanks. I don’t see any breakfast, though.” He turns his head to kiss one of your palms that still rests on his face, eyes still locked on yours. “Does that mean I get to eat you?”

🥺 stop just

“Baby, you’re so handsome.”

Grayson’s focus had been fixated on the tv, where the two of you are watching some nature documentary. You haven’t been able to stop touching him since you sat down, but Grayson doesn’t mind — physical touch is definitely his top love language. He hadn’t realized how engrossed in him you’ve been, much more intrigued by the way the light from the tv highlighted and shadowed the features on his face.

“Huh?” He diverts his attention down to where you’re snuggled up to his arm. He smiles and squeezes your hand trapped in his larger one. “That’s random. But thanks.”

You shrug, not even remotely trying to conceal your adoration for him. It’s not like you never express your attraction to him, but you’re not usually so... simp-y about it.

He is handsome, though. And you’re in the mood to let him know. “You tell me I’m beautiful all the time unsolicited. I can’t do the same for you?”

“Aw, you think I’m beautiful?”

His tone is joking, but you play into it anyways. “Of course I do. Inside and out.”

Grayson hums and starts sliding his free hand up and down your thigh, hooking his fingers around it and hauling you into his lap. “What else do you like?”

You grin and scoot as close to him as you can, settling your hands on his broad shoulders and giving them a firm, comforting squeeze. “Love how strong you are. Love how you annoy the shit out of me one minute but make me cry laugh the next. Love how warm you always are.”

You expect him to fire back with some cheesy ass line like ‘I am pretty hot’ or something of the like, but he just sighs happily and stares at you with an almost dreamy expression on his face. His hands rest on your hips, heat radiating through your body at his comforting touch, like they’re proving your last point. .

He just looks so sweet and soft and he’s all yours, and you can’t help leaning forward to drop a kiss to his button nose. “Love that you’re my person.”

This is so cute haha

Did you pick the gym shark leggings and matching sports bra that make your ass and tits look absolutely ✨superb✨ on purpose? Absolutely.

You smirk to yourself at the way Grayson’s eyes linger appreciatively, and return Kristina’s knowing wink.

Mando chooses a playlist that gets everyone equally hyped and in a good mood overall, a perfect mix of the heavy rap beats and nostalgic throwbacks to keep everyone going.

E and gray have a heated contest over who can do more pull-ups, and the group chooses their sides playfully but enthusiastically.

Grayson swaggers up to you, looking positively delicious with sweat dripping from his hair and his bare chest glistening in the morning sun. He’s not excessively tall, but he’s so fucking big that you feel like he towers over you.

“Do a muscle up, and I’ll buy your coffee later.”

You raise a brow, hoping the flustered flush in your cheeks is masked by that of exertion from the set of pistol squats you had just completed. Your voice has more bravado than you feel, too, when you say, “alright. Easy stuff, Dolan.”

Your proficient skills on the stripper pole fail you greatly as you try to heave yourself up from where you hang from the rings. You groan with an annoyed smile, and try fruitlessly one more time as your friends cheer you on.

Suddenly, a set of thick, strong arms are wrapping around your thighs. Your body feels weightless, and you giggle with a triumphant shout as you let Grayson lift you to victory.

You let go of the rings, and your body slides down against his until your ass rests snugly on his forearms. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders and you look down at him amusedly, not in any hurry for him to put you down.

“Did it. You owe me coffee.”

“Hm. Looks like you had some assistance, I don’t know if that counts.”

“That was never stipulated. But I’ll buy your coffee if you do as many of those muscle ups as you can for me.”

“For you, huh?”