Brendan Murray: The Collection

A Year After

A/N:

Hi!

Was not expecting to write and finish one so soon but the words were just flowing and before I knew it I finished another one. This one would be shorter than the first though.

An early warning, there will be no dialogues exchanged. No names would be mentioned like the fic before this one, except for Brendan's. Readers should expect sexual content, not explicit but sexual relations would be mentioned. Reader's discretion is advised.

Don't forget to tell me what you think, any feedbacks would do. Constructive criticism is very much welcome.

Work has not been beta'd and went through a hasty proofread.

- Meg
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"A Year After"
The Anniversary Fic

After a year of being in a bubble of marital bliss, they would be celebrating.

He would have woken her up by one, two, three kisses on her cheeks, jaws, and lips.

He would have prepared her toast smeared with marmalade to their bed, accompanied with her Earl Grey tea.

He would steal a few bites off her toast, cuddling her to his side. They would enjoy the silence, warm and together, with his arms around her tiny waist. Their legs tangled, nice and warmed up underneath their thick covers. Lazy kisses and giggles would be exchanged.

She would suggest watching a cheesy romantic movie but both of them wouldn't pay much attention to it. Instead, they'll be caught up by each other, thinking how after a total of three years of being together they are still very much drawn to each other. Like teenagers being in love.

After dozing in and out of comfortable sleep for an hour or two, she would be the first one to get up and slip inside their bathroom for a shower. Less than five minutes after he'll be joining her.

They would be pressed up against each other, skin on skin, letting the warm water run over them. He might seduce her and have sex - no they'll definitely have sex.

He could take her slowly. Be tender and sweet. Sensual touches teasing their skin that makes both of them breathless. He'll worship her with words filled with adoration and love. The word beautiful slipping out of his lips along side her name. She'll kiss him all over, showering him praises and love. Lips brushing against each other as they made love underneath their shower head.

Or he could take her roughly. Hip bruising, hair-tugging, nails scraping passionate hot sex.

Not a single second wasted. He would stumble inside, push her against the cold tiled walls of their shower. Kisses would be lust filled, tongues dancing against each other. All of it happening before water can pelt down against their flushed skin.

Their touches would be frantic and searing. Leaving tongues of fire behind. She would find herself being bent over or pressed against the wall having him mercilessly thrusting in and out of her without abandon.

Words wouldn't be as sweet, instead it would be filthy. Sending jolts of electricity to their centres. Dirty words that would earn a slap from his mother would be hotly whispered against her ear. And in return she'll be whimpering and gasping how good he feels, not ashamed of crying out his name and using the lord's name in vain.