#tell me the islanders don't have pool parties for team bonding

[matwith1t]

A/N: Back with some fluff!! Straight fluff. No angst nonsense. Any & all feedback is appreciated! Words of affirmation is my love language so 🔪 please🔪 Also, my requests are open 🥳 I’m working on one now, so if you have any ideas, my inbox is open!! I hope you’re all having a wonderful morning/afternoon/night!! 🤩

Summary: Mat tries to guess your favorite color, and even though he sounds absolutely positive with his answer, he’s wrong. But you don’t have the heart to tell him, so he spends your relationship knowing your wrong favorite color.

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 | Mat Barzal x Reader

Warnings: two swear words, slight drinking // WC: 4K // Fluff

A slight spring breeze whistling through the air caused goosebumps to form on your legs. Everything was always a little better in the springtime; the weather started to warm up, parks began to become full of life again, and you were able to sit outside without freezing off your toes. Although there was still a crispness in the air––the last remnants of winter hanging on by a thread––the sun shined down, and you could peacefully sit outside.

On the balcony of Mat’s apartment, the two of you sat on the cushioned couch together. With your head in his lap, you had a book raised above your head, engrossed with the words on the page. And Mat, he had an arm lazily draped over your collar bones as his other hand scrolled on his phone. You thought he was engrossed with whatever game he played, but with his semi-serious tone of voice behind his question, you could tell he got lost in his head.

“What’s your favorite color?”

You dogeared the page you were on, closed the book softly, and placed it on the ground. You flicked your eyes up to see Mat already staring down at you, “My favorite color?”

Mat nodded his head, “We’ve been going out for a few months, but I was thinking about you and I––I don’t think I know it.”

A smirk slowly grew on your face as you teased him, “You were thinking about me?”

With a smile on his own face, he rolled his eyes at you, and with the arm he had draped across your upper chest, he gave your shoulder a squeeze, “I was,” he nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, “So, what is it?”

The feeling of your stomach flipping at his confession made you feel anything but nonchalant. At his words, your stomach swarmed with an amount of tingles that you only felt when you were with him; the air smelled a little sweeter, his touch felt a little warmer, and you felt yourself fall a little more for him. Because even though you were physically with him in this moment, he was also consumed with the thought of you.

“What do you think my favorite color is?” Your tone was light and airy, excited to hear his answer.

Mat’s chest expanded as he took in a deep breath and then let it out through his nose. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, as he stared straight ahead. When his eyebrows rose, it was like you could see the light bulb go off in his head.

He looked down at you, the reflection of the sun in his eyes made them shine bright, “Blue.”

A laugh escaped your lips, and his smile grew, “And why do you think that?”

“Because you always steal this sweatshirt,” he tugged on the strings of his blue Islanders sweatshirt that you currently wore, “You always talk about how nice the sky looks, always get excited whenever you see one of those blue butterflies.” His shy smile grew more timid as he listed reasons why he thought blue was your favorite color, “And you always write with a blue pen.”

Blue. He said it so confidently. And he listed so many reasons that you didn’t even notice about yourself as to why he thought blue was your favorite color. The warmth you felt whenever you were around intensified as you sat in silence.

“So?” Mat’s soft voice brought you out of your head.

He was so sure of his answer that you didn’t have the heart to tell him that your favorite color was not blue.

“You guessed it,” you said with a nod of your head. The smug smirk on his face widened as he sunk a bit further down the couch and caused you to chuckle, “What?”

Again, Mat only shrugged his shoulders, “I’m always right.”

A laugh that caused you to screw your eyes tight and clutch a hand to your stomach echoed off the city buildings. When you opened your eyes, you saw Mat adoringly gaze down at you like he thought he was the luckiest person on the planet. You reached an arm down to grab your book, but before you could resume reading, Mat lowered his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re cute,” he whispered.

With your book long forgotten, you raised your hand up to your shoulder––to where Mat’s hand lazily drew circles––and laced your fingers between his. He gave your hand a squeeze and a smile took over your face as nuzzled against the soft fabric of the sweatshirt he was wearing. And in record time, your eyes shut and you fell asleep.

–––

A week after Mat guessing your favorite color, he showed up at your apartment.

It was mid-afternoon on a Saturday, and you were up to your elbows in chores you had been putting off. So you decided that today was the day to get them done. A fairly loud knock on the door cut over the music playing through your headphones. While you would have answered it, your hands were a bit soapy from doing the dishes, so you asked your roommate if they could get it.

You were back to listening to music and washing the dishes, but then your roommate walked into the kitchen with a wide smile on their face, “It’s for you.”

With your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, you nodded your head. After washing the soap off from your arms, and drying your hands, you scrolled through your phone to make sure you didn’t accidentally miss on plans with a friend. But there was nothing.

When you reached the front door, you smiled when you saw Mat waiting.

Without a greeting, he raised his hand that held a bouquet of blue flowers that made your heart melt. There were blue peonies, blue hydrangeas, blue tulips, and a few other blue flowers that looked like they were just thrown into a bouquet.

He looked shy with his free hand curled in a fist, stiff at his side, as his index finger lightly picked at the skin by his thumb. He looked unsure of himself––which was uncommon for him––but his rosy cheeks and timid smile made you think that he had never shown up at a person’s house with flowers before.

“Mat,” you said his name slowly; the brown paper they were wrapped in crinkled under your hand as you carefully took the flowers from him, “These are…” You glanced up at him and he still looked nervous as ever as you brought the flowers up to smell, “Amazing, thank you.”

While the presentation of the flowers was less than ideal, that didn’t matter in the slightest. Because in a matter of a few weeks, the flowers would be dead. But the memory––the giddiness you felt––of Mat showing up out of the blue with flowers would last for a lifetime.

He let out a shaky breath, “They’re––They’re blue.”

A small laugh escaped your lips as you waved him further into your place. “That they are,” you chuckled as you went into your kitchen and opened up a few cabinets for a vase. Once you found one that would fit the flowers, you filled it up with water, “They’re really pretty, Mat.”

It looked like he had just come straight from a workout; athletic shorts, sneakers, and a dry fit t-shirt. And normally after workouts, he was almost as confident in himself after scoring a goal. But he still looked shy.

“I was walking down the street when I saw them,” his voice held a bit more strength to it, “They’re your favorite color.”

You had just finished re-arranging the flowers into the vase to have them all fit when he said his last sentence. They’re your favorite color. For a moment, you forgot that you fabricated the teeny tiny lie about your favorite color. But it made sense as to why he sounded so confident about that sentence than all the other words he spoke.

Because he truly believed that he knew your favorite color.

A swarm of butterflies erupted in your stomach as you gazed at him with a smile. With the flowers safely in their vase, you walked over to Mat, the smile slowly growing on your face with each step. As if he knew what your next move was, he opened his arms for you, and you wrapped your arms around his waist in an embrace.

While Mat still smelled faintly of sweat, you still took a deep breath of him in, “Yeah,” you mumbled with your face pressed up against his chest. He gently rubbed his palm and fingertips along your back, “My favorite color.”

–––

Summer came along and with Mat not having nearly as many hockey commitments, you were able to soak up time with him like you soaked up the sun.

While the sport wasn’t taking up his time, Mat continued to spend time with his teammates that stayed in New York for the off season. He received a pool party invitation from a teammate and immediately called you up, “It’s an Islanders Island pool party,” he sounded so excited. But you told him it was a terrible play on the name of Gilligan's Island for a pool party.

But you agreed to go with him, and that’s how you found yourself in the backyard of someone’s house with a pool.

And it really was an Islanders Island pool party. The whole house was decked out in traditional Islanders colors, everyone was required to wear an Islanders color, the food and drinks provided could all be found at the arena, there were custom Islanders balloons hung on fences and trees…It seemed as if this was a team bonding experience to get the players excited for the upcoming season.

You were sitting on the ledge of the pool, legs dangling in the water, as you caught up with Tito’s girlfriend. The two of you were laughing until you heard Tito call out “Hey! No cheating!” Both of you paused your conversation to turn your head toward the commotion. And like you guessed, Mat was doing anything in his power to win at a game of chicken.

Mat and Tito were standing in the water, as they both held up two kids on their shoulders, who wrestled each other until the other made a splash in the water. Mat’s infectious laughter––head slightly tilted back, eyes and nose wrinkling, with an open mouth––caused a smile to light up your face.

“You can’t go for my ankles,” Tito sneered at Mat, who again, laughed in his face.

The two teams continued to fight, with Mat trying to hook one of his legs around Tito’s ankles to cause him to fall. The chicken fight was quite captivating, but before you knew it, right as Mat tried to hook his leg around Tito’s ankle again, he kicked Mat’s thigh in retaliation.

“Cheater––”

But a loud splash happened before Mat could finish yelling at his best friend. The kid who was on Mat’s shoulder swam to the surface, and Mat popped up with a gasp. As Tito and the kid who was on his shoulders celebrated with high-fives, Mat splashed them with water. And with a pout on his face, he walked over to the ledge you sat on.

He walked slowly over to you as he pushed his wet hair back from his forehead. You predicted his movements right, because right as you slightly opened up your legs, Mat came to stand right between them. He rested his elbows on your knees and leaned the side of his face on his arm as he looked up at you.

Knowing how much he hated losing, you smiled sympathetically down at him and ran a hand through his hair, “Cheaters never win.”

Mat’s head popped up just as fast as his jaw dropped, “I didn’t––”

“You went for my ankles,” Tito said from behind as he splashed Mat. You flinched as some of the water sprayed up on you.

“You kicked my thigh!” Mat turned to look at his best friend who pushed himself up from the pool to sit next to his girlfriend. He then turned to look at you with an even bigger pout, “I thought you were on my team.”

A small laugh escaped your lips, “I’m always on your team,” Mat looked like he was going to interject about how that wasn’t the case with your previous comment, but you spoke before him, “When you don’t cheat.”

“Ha,” Tito gloated.

Mat glared at Tito, but as if their mini-rivalry and cheating scandal didn’t happen, Tito asked if Mat wanted to get some food. And with a shrug and a nod of his head, Mat lifted himself from out of the pool. He sat on the ledge next to you for a brief second, “Want anything?”

You thought for a moment, tilting your head back and forth as you kicked your feet around in the water, “A cookie.” You smiled up at Mat.

He reciprocated your smile before leaning in and capturing your lips in a short, chaste kiss, “A cookie it is.”

Mat and Tito walked away, lightly shoving each other’s shoulders, and you picked up conversation with Tito’s girlfriend. Fifteen or so minutes had passed before you saw Mat’s blue swim trunks in your peripheral vision sit next to you. He handed you a small blue paper plate with a blue frosted cookie.

“Thanks,” you smiled in appreciation. You were about to take a bite before Tito scoffed.

“He damn near killed me to get that cookie for you,” Tito’s tone of voice was joking, but your eyes widened as you turned your head to see Mat ducking his chin into his chest, face turning red. “I told him that there were other cookies at the table, but he said he needed to get the blue cookie for you.”

Blue.

Mat avoided eye contact with the group and shrugged his shoulders, “It’s your favorite color,” he softly said only for you to hear, as he kicked up some water with his toes, “It was the last one. I needed to get it.”

Favorite color.

Lightly, you knocked your shoulder against his. With his face still red, Mat looked up at you with a small smile. You pressed a kiss to kiss cheek, “Thank you,” you whispered.

Mat shrugged his shoulders, downplaying his actions as if he didn’t do everything in his power to make sure you got your favorite color. The appreciation you felt for him went beyond anything you could verbalize, so you offered him a bite of your cookie.

Maybe blue could become your favorite color.

–––

Mat had spent the past few December’s in New York, not being able to get as much time as he wanted to spend the holiday season with his family…but this year he had you.

Dressed warmly in scarves and winter coats, you had your mitten clad hands wrapped around Mat’s arm as you walked down the street to Tito’s place in the city. The air was brisk, and the wind felt like icicles hitting your skin, but with your face pressed firmly into Mat’s side, the cold air didn’t feel that bad.

The party was small, a few bottles of wine were opened and shared with one another. The night was full of laughs, Mat whispering softly in your ear, and gentle touches from him that caused an electric jolt in your body whenever he brushed his fingertips on your lower back. You met some new people, caught up with people you already knew, but when the night dwindled down to just you, Mat, Tito, his girlfriend, and another couple…That’s when the fun started.

Tito had taken out board games to play…But added a few drinking rules to them. And by the end of the second game of a non-sober Candy Land, everyone started to feel a slight buzz. And that’s when Tito’s girlfriend had the idea to play a couple’s game…A how well do the couple’s know each other game.

Tito gathered up spare paper and pens from around his place and handed them out to everyone. And his girlfriend tore up paper into rectangles and wrote questions on them to make a deck of cards. The rules of the game: a couple picks up a card from the deck and they have fifteen seconds to write down on their paper––without looking at their significant other’s paper––matching answers.

If you got an answer wrong, you took a drink. If you got the answer right, you kept the card. And whoever ended up with the most cards at the end was deemed the winner.

The questions were easy; Where did you first meet, What is your boyfriend’s favorite dessert, What is your girlfriend’s pet peeve, Where was your first kiss…Very simple. But there were some more challenging questions; What is your girlfriend’s shoe size, What is your boyfriend’s least favorite candy, What was the first picture you took as a couple…

You and Mat were on a roll, only having to take a sip of your drink three times. Tito and his girlfriend were only a few cards behind you. And the other couple tapped out after they had to take a sip of their drink after every other card they pulled.

“Tie game…” Tito deviously smirked across the table at you and Mat, “One card left.”

“So if Mat and I don’t get the question right,” You looked between the feuding best friends, both of them wanting desperately to win, “do you two have a chance to steal?”

“That seems fair,” Tito’s girlfriend nodded at you as she took a sip of her wine.

“They won’t need to steal it,” Mat glared at Tito, the competitiveness coming out of both of them in their glare off, “Because we’re going to win.”

Tito continued to taunt Mat, “Wanna bet?”

“Remember that you two do play on the same hockey team,” you placed a hand on Mat’s shoulder as you raised your eyebrows at Tito.

“That’s irrelevant right now,” Tito narrowed his eyes more on Mat.

Tito’s girlfriend chimed in, “And remember that you two are best friends––”

“Not important,” Mat flared his nostrils.

You and Tito’s girlfriend looked at each other, helpless gazes as you both sat next to your bickering boyfriends. With a shrug of her shoulders, Tito’s girlfriend rolled her eyes at their antics and took a rather large sip of her wine. You followed suit.

With a deep sigh, you had a hand placed on the card ready to flip it over when you were given the go ahead. When the timer was set, and you said ‘ready,’ Tito started the fifteen seconds when you flipped over the card.

What is your girlfriend’s favorite color?

Mat tipped his head back, eyebrows raised high, and let out a loud laugh. Immediately he wrote his answer down with a smug look, “We have this in the bag.”

With a roll of your eyes, you wrote down your favorite color on your piece of paper. And when the timer chimed at the end of fifteen seconds, Mat looked too proud of himself as he drummed his fingers on the back of the notebook where he had his answer written.

“On three, flip your notebooks,” Tito said with a disappointed voice, upset that you and Mat had gotten possibly the easiest question in the whole game.

When the magic number three was said, you and Mat turned your notebooks around. At the answers written on your papers, both Tito and his girlfriend’s jaws dropped wide open. Their faces beamed with smiles as they high-fived each other excitedly.

“We can steal!”

Mat, confused at their celebratory high-fives, scoffed, “What are you––”

“You don’t have the same answers!” Tito looked as if he was about ready to jump up from his seat on the floor as he got ready to write down the answer to his girlfriend’s favorite color.

Mat’s jaw dropped as you heard a silent gasp of shock from him, “That can’t be right––”

“You wrote blue,” Tito smirked victoriously as his eyes shifted to you, “She did not.”

Blue.

Your jaw dropped just as Mat took the notebook from your hands, not believing what his best friend said. You saw his eyes scan repeatedly over the paper that had your handwriting; eyebrows rising high in disbelief as he continued to read a color that was not blue.

Slowly, he lowered the notebook and connected his dismal eyes with your shocked ones that were already locked in on him. With more than enough glasses of wine in your system, you forgot that Mat believed that blue was your favorite because of that one spring afternoon.

Mat’s voice was quiet, low-pitched so only you could hear him, “Your favorite color isn’t blue?”

“I––” Your voice got caught in your throat, knowing that you had to truthfully answer him this time, but with his pitiful eyes gazing into yours, you felt your heart crack because for months he was so sure that your favorite color was blue, “Not really…” your voice trailed off at the end.

Mat let out a small chuckle, a light-hearted smile tugging the corners of his lips upward, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged your shoulders, looking down into your wine glass, “When you said the reasons why you thought blue was my favorite color,” you looked up at him with a small smile, the fond memory replaying in your mind, “You looked so happy, I didn’t want to say you were wrong.”

Mat snickered as he shook his head at your reasoning. He threw an arm around your shoulder, and you easily fell into his chest as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “So you didn’t want to hurt my feelings? Over a color?”

“I mean––”

“So all this time you thought blue was her favorite color?” Tito laughed as he took a sip of his drink. “Is that why you’ve only worn blue suits before games this season?” Mat’s cheeks turned red as he flipped off his friend. But Tito kept provoking him, “And the pool party over the summer––You pushed me down to the grass to get a blue cookie––”

“Shut up,” Mat playfully glared at Tito.

But like any best friend, Tito continued to poke fun at Mat, “Or, oh––that time we saw a blue––”

And like any best friend on the opposite end of some light hearted heckling, Mat got up from his spot on the floor and tackled Tito before he could finish his sentence. While the two of them wrestled on the ground, Tito’s girlfriend came and sat beside you.

Her eyes were on both of your boyfriend’s as they continued to roll around. She let out a chuckle, “Blue is a pretty nice color.”

And with your eyes trained on Mat, you looked more closely at his outfit for tonight. He wore blue jeans, a navy blue sweater, and thinking back to your walk in the beginning of the night…the jacket he wore was also blue. Although it came a few moments to late, it was the details at which he paid attention––Like how he noticed you always stole his blue sweatshirt, complimented the blue sky, got excited when you saw a blue butterfly, or how you only wrote with a blue pen––that solidified you changing your favorite color.

“Yeah,” you let out a laugh as Mat put Tito in a headlock, and you bit the inside of your cheek to contain your growing smile, “It’s growing on me.”

[bouttogolinkurbitch]

Love Scary: Grayson Dolan

Reverse Scary Love (all credits go to the queen @rockstardolan if you somehow haven’t read the og Scary Love, read this lmao and then go peep her masterlist. Might as well read my bullshit while you’re here <3) this is a huge fucking deal for me because I love Luna and her writing with my whole heart.

Okay so in the original Scary Love, Grayson has blond hair, the razored brow, and the nose ring-but it’s reverse so Y/N has all that. For Grayson, instead just picture ‘No Shave November Gray’ with his dark ass hair that literally makes a bitch drip🤤👀

Warnings: cheating and an abusive relationship between Gray and his girlfriend

Sorry for errors ;))

Tags:

@boujeebailey

@grayson-dolans-dangly-earring

@kara-dolan

@dolanoodle

@ethansbbyg

@cherryxdolan22

@sagittariusdolan

@dolayn

I DONT WRITE SMUT OKAY SO I AM SO SORRY FOR HOW BAD THIS IS PLEAAAASE IM SORRY

🌩🍑🍑🌩

"You lost the bet." Jessica chided as I looked at her. She smirked and cracked her knuckles, "And luckily for you, my mom can call some people from the salon, have them come and do everything, and then we're good." She shrugged her shoulders- as if everything she just said wasn't impossible. I scoffed as I paged through the shirts that hung in my closet, "So you expect me to dye my hair, pierce my fucking nose, razor my brow, and try to get in Grayson Dolan's pants all in the span of forty eight hours?" Jess gave me a devilish smirk and I felt my heart plummet into my stomach.

I winced as the needle went through my nose before I was patted on the shoulder. "Take care of it by cleaning it with this." I was handed a bottle of sanitizer. I carried it to the chair where I sat and got my brow razored. Jessica watched with her phone on me as she recorded our adventure. "I want to cry! This bleach is going to ruin my hair." I whined and Jess rolled her eyes. "It actually looks really good. Maybe put it in waves?" I shook my hand through it and I looked at her through the mirror, "Fuck you."

Grayson Dolan has been my crush since the eighth grade. Ever since elementary school when kids had picked on me and Jess, which led Jess and I to have an unbreakable bond, the two stood up for us when no one else would. Two of the kindest souls in our school, the twins, never stopped being nice to us. I had been teased up until the seventh grade when Grayson established we were friends. Ethan blindly tagged along with our banter, and for a bit it was us against the world. Then freshman year hit, the boys got into sports, and suddenly I was a nobody again.

Grayson had even found love, Chelsea Reynolds. All star cheerleader, captain of the volleyball team, and Grayson's loyal girlfriend. They were like peanut butter and jelly to outsiders looking in, but I knew it wasn't as it seemed. Grayson never looked happy anymore. There's only so many football, wrestling, and lacrosse trophies you could win to fill the void. Grayson needed something new, probably wanted something new, and definitely had lust for someone new. I was determined to make that someone me.

Walking into the party with Jess at my side, we had accumulated quiet the crowd. From across the room Scott yelled, "Nice look, Y/N! You look hot!" Many drunken cheers were followed and I sent him a wink before my eyes zeroed in on Grayson. To his side stood his lovely girl, she was chatting idly to Ashlynn. He looked bored and tired, but I had something in mind that could wake him up.

As the party dragged on, Chelsea drank more, and soon she was on jelly like legs. I was standing with a beer in hand, not really drinking as it wasn't something I enjoyed, when I saw it happen. She had bumped into Grayson and he spilled the tray of veggies he was carrying to the kitchen. She stilled and he looked down before he got on the floor to clean it up. She shoved his head hard with her hand before her whiny, shrill voice sounded, "Watch where you're going, dumbass." I glided through the sea of bodies before I was down next to Grayson, scooping up the mess.

"Y/N, you don't have to." I ignored him and threw a carrot onto the platter. His hand came around my wrist, his grip was so soft and gentle, I stilled. When our eyes met he looked defeated, "You don't have to help me. It's my mess to take care of." I shook my head, "Nah, Gray. She's the mess you should be taking care of." He got quiet after my comment and soon the floor was clean. His eyes danced up and down my body before he turned on his heel and left me, my mouth opening slightly like a fish.

Jessica was drinking happily next to me as I listened to the music. "Y/N look." She slurred and my eyes shifted to see Grayson in the corner with Chelsea's paws scrambling up his chest and into his hair, all the while he held a pained expression upon his chiseled and perfect features. I sat the full beer I still hadn't drank on the mantle before I walked over. As I approached, I heard Grayson trying to defuse her ever growing temper, "No, Chels. I don't want to right now." She pouted and dragged her hand down his solid chest. He tried to catch her wrist, but her opposite hand dug into his forearm.

I pulled her arm back and she looked at me, "Can you not fucking hear? Get off of him." She scoffed and stumbled, taking a hold of Grayson for support. "And who the fuck do you think you are?" My brows raised and I tipped my head to the side, "I'm the girl who's gonna kick your ass if you don't lay off. No means no." My arms folded across my chest and I looked down at her. She clenched her fists at her side, "You're just mad Grayson fucks me at night. Grayson is my man, and I know you've been jealous sin-" But I didn't let her finish.

Instead my mind went into autopilot, and soon my fist was connecting with her cheek. She fell abruptly and Grayson looked as if he was going to console her, that is until I laid my hand on his arm. He froze and he watched as I crouched next to her, "Don't ever fucking talk to me like that again. Or I will not stop." I seethed, and she nodded. I'm sure she didn't truly understand, but even a drunk person knows when the fight has ended and the dust has settled.

After the scuffle, many guess started to leave. Ashlynn had dragged Chelsea home long ago. Jessica left me to go get more wine and head over to her boyfriend's house. Grayson was picking up red solo cups when I walked back in. "You didn't have to do that." Grayson's low voice rumbled behind me as I picked up the trash bag Ethan had been using, he left to go throw up and pass out in his room.

I threw some paper plates in the bag and I looked up, "I needed to." His killer watt smile flashed a fraction before he bit his lip. "She doesn't make you happy, Gray." Grayson's eyes shifted from me to the floor, "Not used to you calling me that again." That hurt but I sighed. "She doesn't love you like I could." At this our eyes met again and he damn near dropped the trash bag he kept in a vice grip. I had to swallow the thought of his thick hand around my throat. Tonight was about him, even if he didn't know that yet.

I dropped the bag to the floor and stepped over the rubble. My heels clicked against the wood floors until I was directly in front of Grayson. "Let me love you Grayson. Let me show you what it's like to feel." My hand slid across the warm expanse of chest that was covered in a gentle cotton, long sleeve shirt. His jeans had hugged his thighs and hips dangerously, and the boots he wore made him look rugged and sexy. I felt his heart rate quicken under my palm and I smiled, "You nervous, Gray?" Grayson's Adam's apple bobbed and I smirked.

I pulled him to the counter and I sighed, "You know, I don't think I ate enough at the party. Think I could catch a meal?" I asked as I leaned closer to his neck, my lips centimeters from his skin. "Tell me what you want, baby." The word baby seemed to flip a switch in him because suddenly everything on the island was pushed to the floor and he was sitting up on the granite top. I let my hands rest on his thighs, before I squeezed gently. "Want you to ride my thigh." Grayson gravelly tone made me clench my legs. "Heels on or off, Grayson?" I asked and his dark eyes finally met mine. "Heels on, skirt over your cheeks, panties around your ankles, and if you're wearing a bra, I will fucking ruin you." I bit my lip as I slid the skirt of my dress on my hips, "I like the sound of that."

I climbed on top of him and soon my mouth was pressed to his in a firm kiss. His hand cradled my ass as I sat up slightly. My shaky hands ran under his shirt before I lifted it over his head and threw it behind me. I left open mouthed kissed down his neck and jaw, all the way on to his chest. Half way through my exploration, I dipped my tongue against his skin and I sucked. "Oh fuck. Y/N, please." I sat up and smiled, "I like when you beg, Grayson." His thick lower lip was trapped between his teeth as I kissed his neck. My teeth grazed his skin and I felt him swell against my stomach. "Need you on my thigh."

I turned myself on his chest before I undid his belt and jeans. He lifted himself up as I pulled the tight jeans down to pool at his ankles. I let my panties drop and I stepped out of them before I got back up next to him. I swung my leg over his, and I hovered over his tatted thigh. When I finally made contact with his hot skin, I whined. My nails dug into the expanse of his hip as I let my jaw drop. His leg started to shake and I cried out before I leaned my cheek against his stomach. "Please, Gray." I felt his hands in my hair and I breathed heavily as I moved against his pulsating leg.

I let my eyes roll back and I whimpered before I slid back against his thigh. His legs hairs prickled my heated flesh, but it added to the sensation, and soon I was coming undone above Grayson. His own eyes lulled as I tried to regain my vision. "Fuck me please, Y/N." I moved onto his hips and I leaned down, connecting our lips. As we kissed, I dipped my fingers between my folds and I smirked slightly, "Wanna taste?" He nodded eagerly and whined as I pushed my two fingers into his mouth. His lips sucked around the pads of my fingers before he let them go with a pop. "Taste so fucking sweet." I smiled and kissed him, trying to taste a hint of myself, and I did. When I pulled back, I let my nose bump his, and our eyes locked. "Would you like to taste more?" Grayson nodded frantically and almost whimpered as I shifted myself above his waiting tongue.

I felt his lips wrap around my own and he sucked hard against my skin. I let my palms rest against the counter top as he started to slurp against my heat. "Fuck Gray." I whined as I moved my hips back. His tongue came to a point and ran over my clit, soon I felt him slide two fingers in. "Come on, babe." Grayson teased as he coaxed a reaction from me. I let my jaw fall open as I clenched my eyes, "Fuck!" The vibrations from his laugh made me moan and drag my hand through his hair. His hands came around my cheeks and he squeezed. His nails dug into my skin and I whimpered as he lapped at me more.

When I finally came for the second time, he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me there. "Gonna lick you bone dry." He muttered before I felt his tongue dip into my hole. I whimpered as I rocked back against his waiting tongue. "Please, Gray. Don't fucking stop!" I yelped. As he continued to toy with my clit, I lifted my dress off my body and I threw it to the floor. He moaned against me and I let my jaw drop as I moved my hips against his tongue. When I was about to fall apart again, his languid tongue and lips being the only thing holding me together, he stopped. "What did I say about that fucking bra?" Grayson’s hand was pressed to my spine and I yelped as he turned us quickly.

I felt the cool granite against my skin as he mounted himself above me. My eyebrows scrunched and I pouted. He was about to speak but I silenced him with my palm against his dick. "You know, Grayson, the entire experience was for me to treat you. I don't get punished." I squeezed my hand and his eyes rolled back. "Fine but let's change it up, princess." I was suddenly pressed chest to chest, my lips connecting with his own. I let them drag down his neck and go his prominent collarbones.

Grayson sat down on the couch and laid back, keeping my legs on his hips. He unhooked the bra and threw it back towards the kitchen, "Picture fucking perfect." I quirked my brow before I ran my hand up his chest, to the base of his neck. "How does this make you feel, babe?" I whispered as I started to apply pressure to his thick neck. His eyelashes fluttered as he ran his hands up my thighs.

I kept my hand on his neck as I moved up so he could slide inside of me. His breathy moans made my walls clench, and I started to move gently. His nails bit into the soft skin of my hip as I rocked. "Y/N, princess, fuck me or so help me." I raised my brows as I squeezed his neck firmly, "So help you what Grayson? You're not in control tonight." His dark eyes held mischief as he pushed himself up into me. I bit my lip and I breathed hard through my nose. "Stop, Grayson. Let me make you feel good." He shook his head and rolled us over.

With his arms beside my head, he started to set a much faster pace. I wrapped my legs tight around his hips and back, drawing him closer to me. "Fuck, Grayson, please." I choked out as I dragged my nails across the protruding muscles on his shoulder blades. His delicate lips came into contact with my neck as he bit harshly. "I don't like being weak, Y/N. And I'm just gonna have to fuck you until you remember that." I whined as he started to suck against my hardened nipple. "Every single part of you, mine." He all but growled and I nodded.

My hands squeezed his biceps, "You're mine, Grayson. Chelsea will just have to learn that I don't share." I spat as I rolled us over on the cushions. I pressed my palms to his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat under my palm, as I started to bounce on his dick. He leaned his head back against the cushion, opening his neck to me. I peppered his skin in heavy breathed kisses as he started to fidget. "Gonna bust, princess. Where do you want me?" I let my lips fall open against his neck before I breathed out, "Inside, please." He nodded and I felt his taught abs tighten under my hands. The warmth that spread between us triggered my own reaction, and soon I was shaking above him.

I was lifted off his dick before I laid down on his chest to catch my breath. Once we regrouped, I walked back to the kitchen to collect my clothes. Grayson stood at the end of his couch, his lower half wrapped in a throw blanket like a towel. I looked over to the counter where I threw my dress, and next to the discarded clothing item, his phone sat. My eyes scanned his screen just in time to see it light up.

Missed call from Chels 💕