#hawthorne brothers x reader
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
jahayla-parker · 8 months ago
Text
IMPORTANT POLL
Hi all! I completed my urgent personal matter and can now return to writing more and getting works out sooner!
But, I wanted to see if there is any interest in me writing for the Hawthorne Brothers from The Inheritance Game Series? I’m thinking mostly Grayson and Jameson but would be open to any!
10 notes · View notes
inmyheaddd · 7 months ago
Text
half asleep - grayson hawthorne x reader
a/n: someone lmk how to acquire a sleepy grayson to cuddle with for myself pls wc: 368 masterlist
Tumblr media
you were wide awake, your leg strewn across grayson’s torso and his arms wrapped around you. he was out like a light, and you should’ve been too. 
you blame the 2 extra coffees you had in the morning. in your defense, you were a walking zombie by 1pm, desperate for a boost of energy.
now, you had been laying there silently awake for an hour; it was impossible to go back to sleep.
you thought you were hilarious, so you slowly got out of his grip, propping yourself up on one elbow. 
“grayson, i need you to buy germany for me.” you whispered as you patted his shoulder.
you were spewing absolute nonsense, playing a prank on your boyfriend that you had seen other people do online.
“what?” he muttered. his slight pout, and the way his brows were furrowed with his eyes still closed made possibly the most adorable sight you’d ever seen.
you tried your hardest to not laugh, “you need to buy germany from the store. i asked you last week.”
“okay, okay, ill do it. just…” he patted his arm around looking for you, “come back to sleep, sweetheart.” he mumbled as he blindly reached for your waist again to pull you in closer, but you stayed put.
“wait but, what about the purple frogs in italy?”
“i’ll get them.” he said with a sleepy groan, “tomorrow.” he pulled you in closer successfully this time, and he grabbed the back of your knee, pulling it over his lower half as he wrapped his other arm around your shoulder.
you were shaking with laughter, biting your bottom lip trying not to wake him up.
his breaths were starting to steady and then you saw his brows furrow again. after a beat of silence, he blinked one open eye at you. 
“sweetheart, germany? as in the whole country?” 
you met his gaze sheepishly, holding back a laugh. “purple frogs in italy? are you alright?” he continued. it was impossible not to laugh now.
“i was just messing with you,” you said in between giggles, “i’m sorry,” you placed a hand on his cheek, and he smiled sleepily at the sound of your laughter, closing his eyes again momentarily. 
“i’ll try and get germany for you. no garauntees, my love, but i’ll do my best.” he mumbled sleepily as he brought your head to his chest, kissing the top of it. 
“what about the purple frogs in italy?” you muttered into his chest with a smile.
he let out a sleepy chuckle, “absolutely not.”
Tumblr media
taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus
@sweetlikeanangel @littlemissmentallyunstable @sheisntyou @emelia07
@anintellectualintellectual @tornqdowarnings @maybxlle
504 notes · View notes
littlemissmentallyunstable · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
title: two hearts, too good at breaking
pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader
synopsis: this argument has been needing to happen for a while but an angry girlfriend and a closed off boyfriend are not a good mix…
warnings:
a/n: thanks for reading 💗💗
taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @eternal--dream @shattered-glass-roses @book-nerd-emi
I spin around, anger has me in a chokehold contorted fingers wrapped tightly around my neck, I’m ready to burst, “is this what it’s going to be like?”
“I don’t know what you want from me,” Grayson scoffs, with an expression that doesn’t betray any hint of emotion if he is feeling it.
Typical man with his typical habits. I wish for once he’d just show me that he at least cared about this. Us.
“Don’t twist this Grayson, don’t you dare,” I seethe, my eyes blazing with some sort of wildfire that would surely burn him alive, “don’t make me the problem.”
He leans back lazily, resting his weight on the counter, “I’ll be the problem then, that’s fine,” he shrugs nonchalantly, making me want to punch him even more than I already did.
How could he act so cool and collected? As if none of this was actually bothering him? How was it fair? I could feel tears prickling in the corners of my eyes and the lump wedged in my throat rapidly expanding. I don’t want to be this emotional, I don’t want him to know how much this is hurting me.
“No,” I reply coldly, abruptly.
I try to mirror him, pushing down all my own feeling and casting my mind to a blank state so that my feelings could not penetrate.
“Then what do you want?” he asks, a dead withered look flashing across his gray eyes.
I make a frustrated noise. So much for staying unbothered. My emotions tend to run riot with an odd reckless abandon, I couldn’t contain them no matter how hard I tried.
He’s twisting my words, playing with them like a well fed cat would a dead bird, “it’s not about what I want,” I hiss.
He raises an eyebrow sharply, “seems like it,” he deadpans.
“So you’re happy like this?” I snap, “this constant tension between us, the aching silences, avoiding this argument all the time?”
It had been going on for far too long now and I am too exhausted, drained with the weight of it all. He could shut it out, he could close off his feelings, he could easily stay unaffected through avoidance. But me? I’m not like that. Every tiny thing hit my heart with a tiny bullet, slowly bleeding it dry.
“You’re the one who created tension in the first place,” he replies with a snarl, a glimmer of anger seeping through his composure.
Good. At least I know there is something beneath his stupid defence mechanism, something that maybe even cared.
“No I didn’t,” I counter fiercely, “things got hard for you and you ran off alone and then came back and acted if nothing had even happened.”
“What do you want me to do, wallow?” he sneers, “did you want me to come home and cry in your arms? I have a life, I need to get on with it.”
“Oh thanks,” I laugh bitterly, running my fingers through the knots in my ponytail, “no what I wished you would’ve done was at least address that you’d gone, why you’d gone, how we were going to work things out, but you didn’t! You did nothing!”
“Why keep bringing up the parts of the past we want to forget?” he asks me, some sort of strain ripping across the middle of his sentence.
“Because you can’t just bury everything under the carpet,” I sigh, tired of the endless row of bulletproof walls he puts up to keep me out, “eventually it’s going to all be revealed.”
“So what you’re asking me to do is tell you every minor inconvenience in my life,” he states flatly, “as if discussing them will make them magically disappear.”
“I’m not asking for that,” I snap, before reeling my annoyance in for a moment, my voice softens, “I’m asking for you to trust me.”
We can’t keep on like this, it’s not healthy, it’s not right, it’s not normal.
“I do trust you,” he replies, without missing a beat.
It’s an instant reaction, a reflex but they’re still empty words. He wants to trust me, but he can’t. I can see it so clearly in those glossy gray eyes.
“It’s clear you don’t,” I reply, “you don’t tell me anything, you don’t talk about your feelings-“
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he tells me numbly.
My heart almost gives in to his blank face and deadened eyes. It hurts to see him so devoid of emotion, so empty. I wish sweet kisses and loving whispers could wash away all that was wrong, but I fear there’s too much for even the ocean to clean.
I shake my head, “you can’t play the hardcore card with me.”
“I’m not playing any card,” he snaps, his face contorts into a sour and twisted look, “my life isn’t a game.”
Idiot me, using a card comparison. It’s like rubbing salt in his open wounds and watching them marinate.
“I know it’s not,” I say gently.
His eyes softened for a fraction of a second before they iced over again. The bitter frost would take a lot more than a kind voice to thaw. He breathes deeply.
“I need to get out of here,” Grayson says, standing up to make a b-line for the door.
I lunge forwards and stand in front of him, arms folded. I look up at him, wide eyes pinning him into place. He stops, almost frozen and stares right back at me.
Of course he could’ve easily walked around me, lifted me up and moved me out of the way or simply just told me to stop. But he does nothing at all and continues staring dead at my face.
He doesn’t want to leave, not really.
“You’re not leaving again,” I tell him firmly, “you can’t just walk out when things get hard, that’s not how we work.”
He sighs and turns around, walking back to the kitchen. I follow. He leans against the counter top, arms folded. In any other situation I would’ve found this incredibly attractive.
“How do we work then?” he finally asks me, more quietly than he’d probably intended.
I look at him with tender eyes and say seven small words, “I need you to need me too.”
“I do need you,” he replies fiercely, a fire in his eyes reminding me of my own for a moment, something I couldn’t ignore.
He does care. He cares like I care.
“You don’t act like it,” I shake my head, biting my lip to stop the tears from spilling over.
And then something snaps and it’s not me this time.
“But I do!” he raises his voice, a desperate longing vibrating across his vocal chords, “you know I do!”
“No I don’t,” I explode, blinded by my own white hot anger, “you keep everything so bottled up!”
“I don’t,” the words are sharp and definitive, ending with a hard monotonous sound.
I groan in frustration, contemplating ripping my hair out, “why won’t you ever just let me all the way in?”
“I can’t,” he falters, maybe the first glimpse of the real him I’ve seen in this whole conversation.
He looks down at the floor, his head dipping down slightly. Grayson Hawthorne always held his head high. I’d broken him.
“Why can’t you,” I press on further, like a child still trying to play with a broken toy.
I know I shouldn’t push him, I know I’m being impatient but I have to know why. I’ve tried the patient route but it hasn’t worked.
My heart won’t beat for anyone else the way it beats for him. I love him too much to let this end over a miscommunication, we’ve been through too much to throw it all away. Whatever it is, we’ve always gotten through it, that’s how we work. I’m not letting go, even if he thinks he wants to.
“I just can’t,” he says to me, as if that explained it all.
An internal argument flickers across his face, his eyebrows draw themselves closer in the slightest of ways and I can see he’s biting the inside of his lip so hard I fear it might bleed.
“That’s not an answer Grayson,” I reply, not backing down, my rational thoughts are consumed by feeling, governed by pure heart and no head at all.
He runs a hand through his hair, all the way to the back of his neck, “I can’t do this.”
“What? This? This relationship?” I question trying not to let the fear creep into my voice.
“No, of course not,” he snaps with an eye roll, causing me to deepen my scowl, “why can’t you just accept that I can’t let you in?”
Oh if only it were that easy.
“Because,” I shout, “you’re meant to be able to trust me with everything and anything.”
“Well I don’t,” Grayson snaps back, his tone bitter like the cud, “I don’t trust anyone, don’t take it so personally.”
Tears spring back to my eyes, my voice quietens, “I’m not anyone.”
“No…” he exhales shakily, pausing for a while, “…you’re not.”
Silence engulfs us, its flames happily licking at our feet. I feel the weight of his gaze against mine, our eyes locked together in a trance. In the space of no words, too much is said.
He looks like he’s physically in pain. The dark circles rimmed under his eyes are bolder than ever, thick smears of black, like war paint. His cheeks seem hollower, his eyes less bright. Am I stealing his spark? Is this my doing? As if he can read me, like an open book, he shakes his head in the slightest of ways. If I’d blinked I might’ve missed it.
“You can’t keep doing what you’re doing,” I murmur hoarsely, unable to control my own voice, “it’s not fair on me and it’s not fair on you.”
He breathes out deeply, his voice low, almost husky, “some things are just too much, okay?”
“Nothing should be too much for love,” I say darkly, taking a step towards him.
He doesn’t back away but doesn’t move any closer to me. Again, he enters his paralysis. I dare to get closer still and then ever closer. I trail gentle hands up his arms, shoulders, then neck until finally they reach the sides of his face. I pull his towards me, so his forehead is pressed against mine. I can feel him breathing, the soft warm air tickling my face.
“I am here Grayson,” I whisper, a tears falling from each eye, spilling over only to roll down my cheek and land on his shirt, “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”
His hands find their way to my waist, his fingers tighten around it, knuckles going white.
“If I let you all the way in,” he chokes out, “you’ll see me for who I really am…” everything falls still, time itself stops, “…and everyone who has ever seen that part of me walks away.”
My heart twists, aching and throbbing in my chest.
“It’s not pretty sweetheart, it’s not pretty at all,” his voice shakes. It is soft, so vulnerable, so open.
He’s trying to show me he does trust me, he just doesn’t know how to let himself. The tenderness intertwined in his tone is enough to make me melt.
“And I don’t think I can afford to watch you walk away,” he shake his head, eyes glossy with tears, “I’m selfish like that my love, I don’t want you to leave.”
I shake my head, biting my lip to prevent a sob for escaping. You’re not selfish is what I want to tell him but I can’t formulate words. Tears freely pool down my cheeks and even Grayson lets one slip. It slowly trails down his cheek, leaving a glistening path behind it.
All the words I want to say get lodged in my throat, so I bring his face closer to mine still and let my lips do the talking.
His face is hot against mine, his hands feverishly cling to every inch of my body. The kiss tastes like a mixture of salt and passion and anger and fear and all of the feelings in between. I could feel his agony on my tongue like he could feel my fury.
I kiss him more roughly, not bothering to contemplate that either of us might need to draw back for breath. He needs this, I need this. Grayson’s hands find their way to my hair, clamping around large thick chunks of it, fingers getting lost and tangled between the strands. Not that either of us care. He’s craving me now more than ever, I can feel his mouth desperately crashing into mine. I bite his bottom lip gently and he a strange sort of sound escapes the back of his throat, something between pleasure and pain.
We continue until our lungs physically burn and force us to stop. I rest back, gulping in as much oxygen as I can. My lips tingle as my chest heaves up and down rapidly. My hands are almost shaky.
I look up to meet his gray eyes. His face is flushed and lips red raw. He looks more alive than I’d seen him in a while. He almost manages a smile, eyes hungrily grazing over my whole body.
He sighs, still out of breath, “what’s even wrong with the way we are now?”
“You’re seriously asking?” I ask. He stays silent. “We can’t just kiss and make up.”
“Why?” Grayson says, something pleading in his expression.
“You know why,” I falter, closing my eyes and massaging my temples, my head thumping all of a sudden.
“What is so bad that we can’t just leave our argument here and move on?” he asks me, something lighting up on his face, some false hope that I’ll soon be to one to crush.
I sigh, falling into a silence of my own. I usually have all the words to say. I still do, too many in fact so I take my time to choose carefully. He almost seems impatient for my answer.
“You don’t communicate,” I say softly, the truth harder said than I’d imagined.
He snarls at me, “I can’t communicate when you don’t say anything.”
“I’m saying everything now,” I tell him, more emotion pouring itself into my tone without being invited to, “but you’re refusing to hear me.”
I wonder if his lips miss mine as much as I miss his. I keep having to scold myself to not glance at them. If only this could all be solved with a kiss.
“I’m not refusing,” he presses on, his jaw tense, “I just don’t understand.”
“Okay maybe this’ll make it clearer,” I state simply, “you don’t get to shut me out.”
Bitter. Harsh. Cold. All the things I loathe coming out of my own mouth. It is the bluntest way I could’ve put things.
He shakes his head and chuckles darkly, “you say you understand me but you don’t, if you understood me you’d know that this is how I deal with pain.”
“That’s not healthy,” I bite back with a bold ferocity.
“It might not be healthy but it’s me,” he tells back, hitting his chest, “take it or leave it.”
“Neither,” I snap, folding my arms and standing my ground with a look of challenge written across my face.
He looks exhausted, “it can’t be all your way all of the time.”
I am exhausted too, “I’m asking you to open up to me,” I say, my throat sore and dry, “why is it so difficult?”
“It just is.”
“Look I’ve given you time Grayson,” I tell him desperation creeping up into my voice, another uninvited visitor, “I’ve done my waiting and I’ve given you space and I haven’t complained but it’s been years and it’s taking a toll, surely if you don’t feel at ease to open up to me now then you never will. I mean you talk to your brothers about everything, why do I know less than them? We’ve been together two years Grayson, two whole years!”
“And I knew Emily my whole life,” he practically growls, each word venomous, a poison spat into my face.
The taste of his lips sour in my mouth and my face immediately pales. I stop, freeze, my body stills completely. I don’t even realise I’m holding my breath until my lungs beg me for oxygen.
So that’s what he thinks. That’s why he can’t trust me.
“You think I’m like her?” I say, my words so quiet I don’t think they can qualify as spoken.
“That’s not what I meant,” Grayson says immediately, the guilt settling.
“You think I’d do something like that to you,” I ask slowly, carefully.
“No,” he tells me, reaching out to touch my arms. I pull away, I can’t have his fingers on my skin. He hides his hurt well, just not well enough from me. “But you have to understand I was played once and I won’t be again.”
My heart drops, plummeting into the acid in my stomach. I’m empty. An odd sort of numbness crawls under my skin, creating a barrier between my flesh and hot blood so I can’t feel anymore.
“I really thought you knew me,” I whisper, my chest aching in the absence of what‘s supposed to beat there.
“I do,” he says.
I shook my head, “if you knew me you know I’d never do that.”
“I didn’t mean to-“
“Bring up your awful ex and compare me to her?” I snarl, the emptiness leaving more space to fuel the fire of rage within me.
He sighs, “I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”
“You think?” I raise a brow, hugging my folded arms tighter my body in attempts to assert a challenge.
He grits his teeth. He hates her sarcasm. “I don’t have time for this,” he snaps, turning on his heel to walk out. I’ve pushed him over the edge.
“You never have time for this,” I scoff, throwing my hands up into the air as I follow him, “you can’t avoid me forever, you can’t hide behind paraphrases and excuses,” I cut in front of him, “it’s not fair.”
“That’s not fair?” he laughs, the sound hollow as it bounces off of these four walls, “you know what’s not fair? This. This, here what you’re doing to me,” he seethes, “why are you making me feel guilty for who I am?”
“This is not who you are,” I bite back, “I know you Grayson Hawthorne, I know ever inch of you, every curve of your body, every fibre of your being. I know what makes you laugh and what makes you cry, I know when you’re trying to hide your pain, I know how to read your eyes, I know where your favourite place to be kissed is, I know how you take your coffee, I know why you sleep on your side, I know when you like to go for a swim and how it makes you feel, I know what you’ve been through, I know your deepest fears, I know who your grandfather was and what you think of yourself because of it. I know the immense pressures you put on yourself, I know the expectations of yourself you have, I know how you view your being, how often you judge it. I know why the violin is your favourite and what Frank Sinatra song you’d listen to forever. I know you’re long sighted because you read too much when you were younger so you have to wear glasses. I know you Grayson,” I say, pausing for air, “and this coward in front of me is not you, it will never be you.”
Silence hits me like a bullet train. All the air is knocked from my lungs leaving my belly aching.
“Clearly you don’t know me well enough,” he says roughly, his voice is hoarse and jagged like his voicebox has been scratched, “because this is me, all of me.”
“It isn’t and you know it,” I reply searching his face with desperate eyes. He’s masking his feelings, it’s an instinct, his instinct. This argument is pushing him further away from me.
He looks at me, “do I?”
“Yes,” my voice shatters as I run my fingers through my hair, “I love you goddamit Grayson Hawthorne.”
“People have lied with those words before,” he quips, the bitter taste of betrayal probably still dancing on his tongue.
I can’t stop myself from flinching. The words sting like a fresh slap across the face. He almost looks sorry.
“Can’t you see I mean it?” I murmur, emotion swelling in my chest.
“I don’t know anymore,” he says, digging the knife deeper into my wound, “I don’t know who to trust, what I can trust, even my own judgment.”
“Me,” I beg him, shakily breathing in, taking his hands into my own, “trust me.”
He stares for a moment, his eyes and my own connected on an invisible string that seemed it would never break. I squeeze his fingertips gently as my own voice echos in my head. Me. Trust me.
I wonder if he can hear it too.
He pulls away and shakes his head, “you want something perfect.”
“I never said that,” I explode immediately, my temper with a mind of its own, “you’re putting words into my mouth-“
“But we’re not Avery and Jameson,” he says slowly, almost carefully.
The comment catches me off guard completely and I still. Is that what he really thinks? My hands, now glued to my sides begin to shake a little. I try my very hardest not to lose it.
“I don’t want to be Avery and Jameson,” I tell him firmly.
“Then stop acting like it,” Grayson seethes, with a raw sort of anger he usually keeps so well in check.
“I’m not!” I yell, letting my own rage run free like a burst of lighting cursing a stormy sky, “you’re just jealous that your brother handles his feelings and actually talks about them with his girlfriend.”
“I am not jealous,” he grits through his teeth.
“And you’re too proud to admit any of it,” I add more fuel to the fire. I can’t help myself. I’m flawed in the same way that he is too, I’m too angry and he’s too suppressed. I’m striking too many nerves and he’s constantly blocking my love.
What a mess we are.
“So what is it exactly that you’d like me to do” he asks me, each word coated with the sourest venom, “waddle home and cry my sorrows to you each evening? Should we make a club?”
“Oh don’t be facetious,” I tusk, rolling my eyes at him.
“I’m just asking,” he shrugs, taking a step in, “what is it that you would like me to do?”
He knows what he’s doing and he’s enjoying it. My face screws up in annoyance.
“It’s not that simple,” I say, “and you know it.”
“Oh,” he replies, amused suddenly. The sudden change in persona made me uneasy, it’s as if he is changing tactics in his head. He steps another inch closer to me, “so you can have things that aren’t simple to explain but I can’t?”
Yet again my words have been twisted by the master of loopholes.
“You’re blowing things out of proportion,” I tell him.
“No I think you are!” he says, his face achingly close to my own, “let’s not forget when I left for three days, I came back to a girlfriend who wouldn’t talk to me.”
His lips sit there with a taunting temptation. I want them.
“Because you left me for three days,” I snap. I feel him exhale. “No word, no warning, just a message through your brothers and then you come back and say nothing,” I almost laugh, “you think I don’t know that you’re in pain, you think that’s not killing me inside?”
“I don’t want my pain to be yours too,” he raises his voice, sending my head pounding.
“When are you going to get it into your head?” I falter, the agony ripping across my raw throat, “we’re meant to share the good times and the bad, we don’t get to choose.”
“But I am choosing,” he tells me, jabbing the left side of his chest harshly, “and I’m choosing only the good.”
“That’s what you don’t understand,” I say, only just realising my face was damp, “this is what comes from hiding from the bad, this explosion of an argument that’s making us fall apart.”
Grayson shakes his head, stubbornly, running a hand over his mouth, “this argument is a result of us both being over stressed and over tired.”
“You’re in denial constantly,” I sob, “about everything, even this.”
“In denial?” he sneers, “fine, you want the truth? This, whatever we’re doing now, is killing me, it’s tearing my insides apart, I can feel my heart being picked apart bit by bit, still beating, still bleeding but slowly dying and I can’t do a thing about it.”
“I can do something, let me do something,” I beg him, my lips quivering, as I cling to his arms, my last desperate attempt to make him see.
He stares at me, his knuckle grazes my cheek wiping away my tears. He bites his lip and shakes his head, “you can’t help me. I think I’m past the point of help.”
“You have to try Grayson,” I whisper my voice shaking like a child left in the cold, “please.”
His hands are now on my hips and they suddenly grip tighter, “…I can’t.”
Everything in me falls down, plummeting into the core of the earth to be incinerated. I can only look at him, his darkened eyes and paled face. He looks sad, empty, lonely.
“What will make you happy again?” I ask him in a murmur.
“You make me happy,” his voice breaks, “we make each other happy.”
I shake my head with a trembling bottom lip. “I don’t think we do anymore.”
He looks like physically in pain and I wonder if his internal organs also feel like they’re being squeezed.
“Why don’t we just break up then?” he whispers.
I stop. The world stops. My heart stops. My head stops. Everything is blank, like a canvas that was bought to be painted but will never be beautiful. The words register in my brain but somehow I still don’t quite understand them. My chest throbs and my legs are like jelly.
“What?”
My voice is barely audible in the silence and when it does finally sounds sort of strangled.
“You said it yourself,” he says, a single tear rolling slowly down his cheek, “we don’t make each other happy, I’m hurting you and you’re hurting me, is there not only one solution to solve it?”
He wants to break up.
It hits me hard, knocking everything out of me. I can’t breathe. I jerk out of his touch immediately, recoiling from the feeling of his fingers on my hips. My face burns as tears uncontrollably pour down my face.
“Fine,” I say, my voice wobbling like a newborn calf trying to walk.
“Fine,” he snaps after me.
We stand there in silence and stare. Neither of us move, it’s like our feet are glued to the floor and our muscles have stopped working altogether. Neither of us want this to be the end but somehow it’s already ended. It’s so quiet I can hear him breathing. I want to forget it all, this day, this argument, this tension. But we can’t change any of it.
Not now.
“I’m leaving,” I tell him finally breaking the silence.
As I turn I hope he might call out after me and tell me to stay, hoping someone might wake me up from this horrible dream, hoping it’s all some elaborate joke that had been taken to far.
None of that happened.
I don’t even look back. I just leave. I don’t know where I’m going. I just run. By the time I collapse I’m on the pavement, heaving for breath like a madwoman. My legs just give way beneath and I crumble to the floor. My face is wet before the rain starts. What have I done?
I knowww some of you are desperate for the dancer and the angel part 5 and I actually PROMISE this time it’ll be the next TIG fic out!! Hope you enjoyed this one anywayysys 💖💖
TIG masterlist
237 notes · View notes
whousestypewriters · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
──── ୨ৎ IM A FAN — GRAYSON HAWTHORNE + READER ‧₊˚
a/n: hi lovelies! look its my first smau/fic (on this acc) and since i love making them here we are :))) hope you enjoy <3 sorry if this is too long btw. i need a grayson guys... maybe a possible series?!?!
grayson hawthorne was bored okay? he was bored, and for a man like him to be bored literally nothing must be happening. so how i hear you ask did he end up on the youtube page of a very popular booktuber? he blames xander, for watching her on the tv curled up with max earlier today. something about you.. intrigued him.
he stared at the account for the longest time before finally, finally clicking on your latest video about your fall tbr. and once he heard your voice it was like he was in a trance. the calmness of the video, your narration and the way you spoke to the viewers made him feel as if he was sitting there next to you on your bed.
he never watched this type of thing. he never really watched stuff at all. but suddenly here he was binge watching every single one of your videos. it was as if he had no control over himself and he just wanted to continue to watch them for the rest of the day.
by the time he had realised how late it was, it was dark out and the time read 6:43am. it must've been the delusion that made him type out the comment, or the fact that he hadn't actually slept yet. but either way he made a comment and that, that was the beginning of the start of everything.
Tumblr media
────
you screamed. you actually screamed when you saw the comment on you post. grayson hawthorne??? the grayson hawthorne had watched your video? holy mother of-
the hawthorne's were notorious, all of them were, but grayson, he had the largest fanbase. the most obsessive one. the one with the girls that go crazy over anything and everything about him. its insane to think that he had commented on your video.
you thought it might've been just a once off. y'know he was just scrolling on youtube - yeah right thats not believable at all - and he happened to stumble across your video?
or maybe it was xander, he's followed you for a while actually, occasionally commenting and flirting with max in the comments. maybe he put grayson up to it. a once off.
so grayson commenting on your video really meant nothing - lies it meant everything - nothing, it meant nothing. who even cares? you definitely don't.
────
yn.books
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by alya.green, maxine.liu.loo graysonhawthorne and 346, 282 others
yn.books what are you reading right now? (psst the book of the month is divine rivals by rebecca ross!)
view all comments
user1 the book queen posted!!!
user2 i bought divine rivals yesterday can't wait until my copy comes!!
user3 i died when i read the end 😭 roman and iris my babies
user4 OH OH OH GRAYSON HAWTHORNE IN THE LIKES??????
user5 RIGHT AND AFTER HE COMMENTED ON HER VIDEO A FEW WEEKS AGO
graysonhawthorne would you recommend divine rivals?
yn.books yes 100% its such a lovely read i definitely recommend you read it!
user6 GRAYSON??????????? GRAYSON??????
user7 GRAYSON HAWTHORNE WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?????
────
"you bitch!" your best friend's voice fills your apartment as she rushes inside and stops dead in the living room. "why am i only now just finding out that grayson hawthorne comment on your posts?"
the murderous look on her face has you siting up quickly putting your book down on the couch. "...because i didn't tell you?"
"its the grayson hawthorne. i cannot believe that grayson hawthorne is commenting on your posts!" alya's harsh look turns gleeful as she rushes towards you and jumps on the couch - careful not to land on your book - and sidle up next to you to gossip.
"so why do we think he's interested in you all of a sudden?"
"he's not interested in me, alys."
"nope, he commented on your insta and your youtube, you're one step away from a marriage proposal now- hey, what type of wedding do you want?"
"we don't know, it could be xander's doing or even max's."
"nope you're gonna have kids together i can feel it."
"alya green-"
"OH MY GOD!!!!" she screeches jumping up and down. "OH MY GOD!!"
"WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?" you shriek back.
"LOOK!" she's grins shoving her phone into your hand
────
graysonhawthorne
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by thehawthorneheiress, thexanderhawthorne ticking.time.bomb and 3, 622, 484 others
graysonhawthorne 🏛 💭 📖
view all comments
user1 OOHHHHHHHHHHH
user2 im giggling so hard rn i love this man
ticking.time.bomb why the sudden interest in reading gray?? 🤨 i saw the divine rivals copy in your bag
thexanderhawthorne THIS IS WHY HE HAD THAT BOOK?? gray are you trying to steal my book girl?
maxine.liu.loo excuse me she's my book girlie. not yours i just let you borrow her
user3 oh he's obsessed
user4 wish that was me fr
user5 i want himmmm
user6 the book girlies and the grayson girlies really won today
────
"grayson hawthorne," the sound of jameson's voice was never welcome in grayson's bedroom and clearly by the tone of his voice; this wasn't going to be good.
"when were you going to tell me that you picked up a fictional book? he paused. "even more so, when were you going to tell me that you got said fictional book from a 'book queen' of youtube."
grayson paused his reading and put down his copy of divine rivals, to look at a smirking jameson at his doorway.
"leave, jameson."
"okay gray, but let me know how your book goes, i hear it has a really shocking ending," jamie smiles and slowly walks away, calling out to xander to talk about books.
okay maybe his actions were a little out of character, but he wanted to understand what you were going to say in the next video. he wanted to be in the loop, to undertand what you were talking about.
he wanted to have something to talk to you about.
Tumblr media
𐔌 . ⋮ 🏷️ tags .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱
@arqbella, @midiosaamor, @maybxlle @reminiscentreader, @ecliphttlunar,
@tornqdowarnings, @catapparently, @zenikswaffleshop, @off-to-th-r4aces, @emila07
221 notes · View notes
xoxochb · 1 month ago
Text
sunshine! reader and grayson best trope <3
——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖
“kiss her.”
“no.”
“yes.”
“no.”
“no.”
“no— wait—”
you laugh and clap your hands in victory. you pick the puppy back up into your arms and begin to kiss her head since grayson would not do so himself.
tiramisu has little to no reaction to your displays of affection. you frown. “she’s upset because you won’t kiss her.”
“she is not.”
you groan and make a strangling motion towards grayson. unhappily for you, he does not react to it.
“just one time! pleaseeeee!”
you put on your best puppy eyes and hold the literal puppy out to grayson. he takes tiramisu in his hold but does not place his lips upon her head.
you scowl at him. “one time.”
“she’s dirty. she’s been outside.”
“so? she’s fine, kiss her now.”
“only once.”
you nod rapidly. “yes! that’s fine!”
grayson sighs and takes tiramisu’s head to his lips just once, quickly.
you squeal and swiftly throw your arms around both him and the puppy, placing a wet kiss to his forehead.
“thank you thank you thank you!”
to steady you in your disarranged position, grayson splays a hand against your upper thigh, the other holding onto tiramisu so you don’t crush her.
“I’m not doing it again.”
“that’s fine. I already got a picture, look.”
“when did you—”
you unwrap your arms and show him a polaroid photo of the monumental moment.
“how cute!” you make a pinching movement towards the picture to show smallness. “I’m gonna tape it to my wall!”
“or I could keep it… in my wallet!”
you roll your eyes. “that’s boring, nobody will be able to see it then.”
grayson tilts his head to the side. “that’s the point.”
“too bad, best of wishes!”
you slide his hand off your leg and jump off the bed, quickly scurrying out the door. best of wishes were indeed needed.
Tumblr media
103 notes · View notes
wish-i-were-heather · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
A FOOL FOR YOU PT 4⤵ GRAYSON HAWTHORNE X READER
ABOUT: 2642 words, no use of y/n (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5)
STORY: well, y'know. you can't ignore a 911 text from a hawthorne
WARNINGS: none really, reader does struggle to swim tho and freaks out a little
TAGS: @littlemissmentallyunstable @gretag13 @lanterns-and-daydreams @whatsamongus @alwaysthefangirl @zuzanna-jadw1ga @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @low-caloriesmonsterultra @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @jimcarreyfann42 @ravishinglyliving @maybxlle - lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!
A/N: EEK I LOVED WRITING THIS. i didn't describe the reader's swimsuit because i don't know what everyone is comfortable with so i let you kinda imagine it however u want! i'm not sure how many more parts i can get out of this idea, there'll definitely be at least one more lmk what u think tho
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He said please. 
Grayson didn’t lack manners. It’s not that he didn’t know how to say please and thank you. But he also wasn’t the kind of person to throw around a plea lightly. Grayson Hawthorne was, well, a Hawthorne. The name itself was a demand, not requiring a please. But he’d felt the need to say please to you. 
Maybe you were overthinking it. 
Or maybe you were still in denial, like Avery said you were. 
The texts came in at eight at night, too, which only raised more questions in your mind. If he wanted to talk to you, why hadn’t he just found you? Or simply texted you to meet somewhere? You didn’t understand why he’d felt the need to use the 911; you would’ve come if he’d just told you to go to the pool. 
Hawthornes did tend to have a flare for dramatics, you supposed. 
You had no idea why Grayson wanted you to meet him at the pool. He was a swimmer, sure, but that was very much his personal time. Grayson didn’t often appreciate people watching or joining him in the pool. But, you figured there was a chance he expected you to.
So you found yourself at her door again. Despite the faint conversation you could hear from inside, you knocked. 
Avery took longer than last time to open the door. “What’s up?” She asked. 
“Hey. Uh, do you have a swimsuit I could borrow?”
She frowned slightly, confused. “I mean I do, yeah, but why-”
You didn’t even have to say anything. You just showed her your phone screen with the text messages. Her eyes widened as she read them and she immediately opened the door wider for you. “Get the hell in here.”
Avery was already digging through the grand dresser. As you entered the room behind her, you noticed Jameson sitting on the floor in front of a deck of cards, giving you a curious look. “What-”
“Not now, Jamie,” Avery quickly answered. “Girl problem.”
That shut him up. 
“Don’t mind him,” she told you, turning back around with a few items in hand. “We were just playing solitaire.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Together? Isn’t that a one player game?”
“His idea, not mine. Managed to turn it into a competition too, somehow,” Avery shrugged. Jameson gasped dramatically but she continued before he could speak, bringing your attention back to why you asked for help. “So, I’ve actually never worn this one before, you could keep it if you want. Or-”
“That one’s fine,” you interrupted, taking it from her. “Can I change in your bathroom?” “Oh, uh, yeah, sure I guess,” Avery answered, clearly confused as to why you were so quick to answer. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get there as soon as I can. Thanks.”
You didn’t change completely, just putting it on and putting your clothes back on over it. You didn’t plan on getting into the water, but it was worth being prepared.
As you were stepping out of the room and thanking Avery, Jameson called, “Say hi to Gray for me.”
Your head snapped back. “What?”
“Come on,” he smirked. “He’s practically the only person who uses the pool, especially at this time. So tell him I said hi.”
Shaking your head, you just ignored him. Jameson was the type of person who could read people well, so odds are he probably already knew he was right. But you didn’t want to give even more of a reaction to him than you already had. 
Avery grabbed your arm though, before you left. “Hey, hey, good luck.”
You thanked her and left, just hoping Jameson wouldn’t try to watch from the window. 
~~
The cool night air hit you sharply as you stepped outside. It hadn’t been too chilly during the day, but you now found yourself wishing you were in more than just shorts and a thin hoodie.
Shivering, you made your way over to the pool. Your mind was racing the whole way there, but there wasn’t really anything else for you to be wondering. Grayson had asked for you to come to the pool, presumably either to swim with him or just because he was most comfortable there. Either way, it was pretty clear that he wanted to discuss what happened when he was drunk. But you still didn’t understand why he sent the 911. 
Good thing you were on your way to finding out. 
The pool deck was empty, save for a few lounge chairs. The fancy cushioned kind, the ones you would only find at a hotel. And the Hawthorne mansion, of course. 
On one of the chairs were two neatly folded towels- two. So he did expect you to get in the water with him? Where was he anyway? If he’d already brought out towels, why wasn’t he-
Splash.
You’d been too caught up in your thoughts and the sound of your heart racing in your chest to realize that Grayson was, in fact, already in the pool. Swimming laps because he was Grayson Hawthorne, so of course he was swimming laps when the sun had already set and the only light in the sky was that of the stars. 
Swimming had never really been your thing, so you didn’t know the exact stroke, but you would’ve been a liar if you said you weren't somewhat mesmerized. The way his arms went up and out, the way his fingers glided along the surface before entering the water once again. His legs kicked together, the movement fast and almost indiscernible under the blue of surrounding him. 
Grayson came up for air so quickly you couldn’t even make out his face, but your eyes caught on the way his hair flicked up with his head. It was certainly a skill, and he managed it so gracefully. You struggled to look away.
Thankfully, you were pulled out of your stare when he suddenly reached the wall nearest to you. Grayson’s hands touched the edge of the pool in perfect sync. You could see the red in his face, the tire he was giving himself from swimming. You wondered how long he’d been there before you found him.
Grayson met your eyes with a tired smile as he caught his breath. “You came.”
“You said 911,” you explained, sitting on the edge of the chair where he’d set the towels. “I figured it was pretty important.” 
“Yes, I did.” He nodded. “We do only get one of those a year, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that to any of my brothers.”
“Got it.”
He was avoiding the elephant in the room. 
“Would you like to join me?”
You stared at him. “Excuse me?” 
“You’re excused,” he said. “Would you like to join me?”
Was he really just going to ignore the fact that he’d sent you such an urgent message? A 911 could’ve meant he was dying, for all you knew when you’d first received it. And what, it was because he wanted to go for a swim with you? There was more he wasn’t saying and you just wanted to yell at him to spit it out. 
Instead, you responded calmly. 
“Join you in the pool?”
Grayson looked you up and down and shook his head. “I suppose you can’t really, not without proper swimwear.”
You got in the pool in a suit when you were drunk, you didn’t say. 
“I have a bathing suit on under this,” you explained. “I just… why do I need to get in the water? Can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”
He took a deep breath. 
“I’ve decided I owe you an apology. For what happened.” You knew immediately what he was referring to. “I was reckless and foolish and unintentionally put the burden of myself onto you. It would have been easier for you to just leave me be, but you dealt with my mess. I appreciate that.” 
The silence that followed was only interrupted by the gentle lapping of the pool.
“See why I figured you should get in?” He asked. “We’d be at an even level. Better suited for such a conversation.”
“Or you could just get out,” you offered. 
“Please?” 
That word again.
Grayson Hawthorne knew what he was doing. 
“Fine,” you groaned, but really only half annoyed. You turned around as you began to take off the layers above the swimsuit, watching him in the corner of your eye as he looked away respectfully.
The cold hit you even harder now that you had removed your hoodie, and you hoped that the pool was well heated. 
“Okay, okay.” You began walking over to the edge of the pool where Grayson was. When his eyes found you, he stared for a little longer than normal before answering.
“You’re nervous,” he observed. “Can you swim?”
You shrugged, taking another step closer. “I know how to stop myself from drowning.”
Grayson moved out of your way and you sat on the edge of the pool with your feet getting wet. It was heated, thankfully. Comfortably so. No wonder he loved to come here at night. 
He was watching you silently. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it was killing you. Not that anyone could ever tell what Grayson Hawthorne hid behind those piercing eyes, but yet another question amidst everything that had happened that week was too much.
Of course he’s a mystery, he’s a Hawthorne. 
Before you could overthink it even further, you got in.
The warmth of the water enveloped you, contrasting greatly with the chill of the night air. You were holding onto the wall, not planning on letting go because your swimming skills were just barely above that of a child starting swim lessons. But Grayson’s intense gaze kept your heart racing. 
He swam towards you, grabbing onto the wall a little closer but still leaving a respectful distance between you. “Do you know why I sent the 911?”
“No,” you admitted. “It scared me.”
“I apologize for that. I panicked.”
You hadn’t expected that confession from him.
“You panicked?”
He nodded slowly. “I was afraid you’d think less of me after how I acted. You haven’t spoken to me in days, so I wasn’t sure you’d come otherwise.” The vulnerability in his voice was tangible.
“It’s not that I’ve been trying to avoid you, Grayson,” you explained. “I just… I mean, you haven’t spoken to me either.”
“I thanked you, I thought we were past what happened. I didn’t think we needed to talk about it.”
“You thanked me and then flirted and walked away.”
Grayson raised an eyebrow. “Did I?”
“You know very well what you did,” you said, trying to hide the blush on your face. 
He swam a little closer. His voice dropped to the same sincere tone it had adopted back when he was drunk. When you’d told him to be careful and he’d cupped your face. When he said he’d never hurt you, never. 
“Perhaps I do. But that doesn’t change the fact that I burdened you with my drunk self.”
“You’re not a burden, Grayson,” you told him, also pushing yourself closer to him along the wall. “It was no problem, really. Just a little entertaining.”
He chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or bitter. 
The way he was looking at you was making you feel something. Something you couldn’t name but… didn’t quite hate. You started to move yourself a little closer to him until-
Splash.
Your hand slipped off the edge of the pool, accidentally sending you back. Not exceptionally far or deep into the pool, but enough to make you panic. You could keep yourself afloat, sure, but not when you were suddenly pushed away from the only solid thing keeping your head above water.
But before you could fully let the panic set in, a strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you upwards.
The sensation of being lifted was disorienting. You were overwhelmed by the sudden rush of water and movement, then the lack of water as your head reached the surface again. Even if you’d barely been below the water for a few seconds, you found yourself gasping for air. 
Grayson’s arm around you was the only steady thing in the chaos.
“Hey, hey” Grayson spoke, and it took a moment for your startled mind to process the words. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”
You blinked rapidly, trying to focus. It took a moment for your breathing to calm down, but you helped yourself by rationalizing it; you’d been under the water for maybe five seconds, there was no need to panic so much.
The shock had just gotten you.
His voice broke through again, focusing your vision and hearing on him. “Just breathe, in and out. Nice and slow, just like that.”
You followed his instructions, taking deep breaths. Your panic began to fade, and you became painfully aware of how close he now was to you, the proximity at which he held you.
Grayson didn’t let go as you calmed down, simply keeping you tucked protectively in his arm as if the water was threatening you. He used his free hand to reach up and brush a wet strand of hair from your face behind your ear. The gesture was so gentle, so careful, that you felt your heart flutter.
“Are you alright?” He asked. 
You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I think so. Thank you.”
He only nodded in return, his usually sharp gray eyes beginning to soften as he stared down at you. He didn’t move his hand away after moving the hair out of your face. It stayed there, lingering around your ear, until he decided to move down, cupping your face.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t the first time that shirtless Grayson Hawthorne was holding your face in his large hands and looking at you in a way that was more than an annoyed glance. 
But it felt different this time. More intense, more real. 
He wasn’t drunk, not hungover; there was no doubt in your mind that he really meant everything. His eyes were still locked on yours with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place, yet somehow felt deep within your core. 
He leaned forward, so close to you that your foreheads were almost touching. His eyes fluttered shut and you realized what was happening only after you felt the words he whispered against your lips-
“I’m sorry.”
Grayson closed the small gap between you, gently pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant at first, like he was giving you the chance to pull away or tell  him to stop. But when you didn’t, when you leaned into the kiss, the arm around you tightened.
Your hands moved on their own, both sliding their way up to rest on his chest. He responded to your touch with a low hum that made you shiver despite the heated pool. 
His arm moved up to the back of your head, pushing you impossibly closer to him. The kiss grew more urgent, more desperate, like he was trying to express every emotion he’d been hiding for the past week. It was overwhelming, and for a moment nothing existed outside of you and Grayson Davenport Hawthorne.
When he pulled back, you kept your eyes closed. Grayson placed a small kiss on your forehead before resting it against his own. You were so close now, much closer than before, but that didn’t matter anymore.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” he admitted softly.
“Me too, Grayson,” you grinned. “Me too.”
When he kissed you again, he tasted like those stupid cherries he loved and felt like the end of the world.
Tumblr media
the writing above belongs to me. please do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own. © 2024 wish-i-were-heather
247 notes · View notes
wildesqdreams · 1 year ago
Text
you and i
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing - grayson hawthorne x fem!reader.
summary - grayson hawthorne has a hard time living for just himself. but the love that he shares with y/n will always make him feel at ease.
warnings - this is set before the first book, so none, only kissing and romance.
navigation | masterlist | request | taglist
a/n: this has been stuck in my drafts for a long time, and i finally finished it :) now, i will be getting to your requests.
Tumblr media
the bed slightly dipped, as the boy climbed in besides her. he was trying to be very quiet since it was already night, and everything was peaceful.
but he failed, when he felt y/n stir and turn around, facing him, "where were you?" her voice was a little raspy, and grayson couldn't help but smile at her tired state.
the girl had stayed up, waiting for her boyfriend, but soon sleep took over her and she went to bed. her arm wrapped around his waist as she snuggled closer to him, missing his warmth.
"just had to do some papers," his hand went to her waist, pulling her closer to his chest.
"you should take a break."
"hm."
"you know i'm right."
silence.
grayson hawthorne played an important role in his family. he wasn't the eldest nor the youngest, but almost everything stood on his shoulders. he was raised differently than his brothers. one day, he was going to inherit the heir, so it was important for grayson to do everything right. not make a single mistake.
but how can a person be happy if he can't let himself slip? if he can't let himself breathe and let go.
that's why y/n didn't let him get lost in the hawthorne life. even though grayson has a strong character, the girl isn't afraid to speak her mind. that's what pulled the boy towards her. the wise heart. the honesty. and of course the love that she gave to others.
"just because others have made unrealistic expectations about you doesn't mean you should follow them. you are your own person, grayson. sometimes it's okay to take a break, even if some may get mad."
and just like that, grayson fell in love with her even more.
"you know," his hand went to her cheek, "sometimes i wonder how lucky i got with you," he stroked her skin, his touch making goosebumps appear on her arms.
"i think you should stop with that cheesy crap," the girl smiled and rolled on her back.
not even a second later his hand went to her hip and she felt light kisses be planted on her neck, "i can't help it if i have a beautiful girl with me," his lips moved along her jaw, stopping upbove hers, "but you are so much more then beautiful to me, y/n."
"i'm serious about what i said grayson," she looked into his eyes, her hand went to the back of his neck, "i love you and i don't want you to over stress yourself. i just want to help."
"believe me, you're helping me a lot, love," with that, his lips connected with hers, into a passionate kiss. and in this moment, grayson hawthorne was reminded again that no amount of money was as important as the girl beneath him.
with the love that they felt for each other, the couple would get through anything. just as long as they were together.
Tumblr media
taglist: @noaboacoa @mochamvgz
456 notes · View notes
never-enough-novels · 7 months ago
Text
Sometimes I like to imagine how it would be like to wake up next to grayson hawthorne
His hair tousled, flying around here and there, not how neat and tidy and perfect it is all the time. It suits him like him, making him look a bit more free and young. His face relaxed from the weight on his shoulders from handling everything and more, even if he doesn't have to. His hand loosely wrapped around my waist as if he doesn't want me to leave, even in his sleep. His breathing slow and steady and a soothing lullaby for me. Light breaths occasionally breaking the silence making me smile at his innocence and how adorable he can be at times.
Wrote this while waking up at 5 to get ready for my class at 6😃😃 I wanna sleep so bad😭
Pls forgive me for this shit writing it's been a while since I wrote and i absolutely hate this🙏🙏
157 notes · View notes
darkacdemiasworld · 8 months ago
Text
i would say goodnight but i’m not cuddling with grayson hawthorn, my head on his chest, reading a cute little book as he falls asleep with a subtle grip on my waist. so night everyone
184 notes · View notes
f4iry-bell · 5 months ago
Text
CHANGE MY MIND
pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader
summary: grayson pushed reader away sm that he lost her.
tagging: @unnoodles @never-enough-novels @alwaysthefangirl @clarissaweasley-10 @benny1989fredd @imaseabear @elysianwayy77 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07
warning: angst
a/n: inspired by @daystarpoet 's cai 🤭pls do check it out, it's amazing.
masterlist
Tumblr media
He does it again, he has been pushing her away for the past week, not telling how he really feels. Whenever she asks him, it's always “I'm fine” , the obvious lie. It was so frustrating for both of them as Grayson just won't tell her what is up, and she can't just watch him go through something alone, without understanding.
Grayson was currently driving her to this event they're supposed to go to, something that's hosted by the heiress for charity. The problem is the drive was filled with Graysons lonely suffering, he wanted to be alone at the moment, especially with her constantly asking what's wrong. He was a patient person but he needed her to stop it, without thinking he snapped.
“Will you ever stop? I said I'm fine.” He gripped the steering wheel.
“I'm just trying to under—”
“No, you're trying to be annoying.” The words stung her heart. She didn't expect him to ever use such a word on her.
She looked at him with slightly teary eyes but she didn't want him to see her, so she turned her face towards the window, and kept quiet the entire ride.
Grayson, realising what he has done, gently put his hands on her knees to show her he didn't mean it, but she barely acknowledged his touch or him. She completely ignored him. It hurts Grayson that she ignored him, but he knew he deserved it. After all, he led her to this.
After the teacher held the event, she didn't wait for Grayson to open her door, she immediately got out and started walking to the event. Grayson, given his speed, caught up to her quickly. Once they were in he put his hands on the small of her back as he led her through the crowd, they met some new people, he introduced her to them as his girlfriend as if nothing is going on between them right. She slipped away from him for a while, while he was thinking about the situation, and his habit of isolation, distancing himself. She came back to where she left him, and spoke.
“Avery invited me to stay over at her place. You can leave if you wish to, I'll be going riding with her and Jameson.” She said, her face was flushed a bit.
“Oh.” He wasn't processing what she said at first. “You don't have to leave with them.” He gathered himself.
“I should.”
“No, you're doing this on purpose.”
“So?”
He hated how calm her tone sounded, but he knew her body language said otherwise.
“So you're being childish. We have an argument, and you don't want to face the aftermath.” He pointed.
“No, Grayson I don't. And it's rich coming from you because you don't face anything! You don't face me when you're feeling like—I have no clue what— and I have to sit here, and watch you go through it alone!” She snapped.
The words hit him, he knew it was true, and he hated it. When she noticed the lack of reply she shook her head, and walked away but Grayson caught her arm, gentle yet firm.
“Don't walk away from me.”
“Why? I thought I was annoying.”
“Don't— you're being difficult.”
“No, it's easy. You push me away, and now I'm going away. It's as simple as that.”
“No, you're being stubborn.”
“And you're not?” She scoffed.
“I'm sick of this, always arguing with you, always asking for answers that I can't give you. I'm sick of it.”
“Then let me go.”
He loosened his grip on her hand.
“No, Grayson, I meant let me go. Out of your life.” Her shoulders relaxed when she finished her sentence. Grayson's stiffened.
“I…You don't mean that.”
“I do. You either let me in or let me go.”
Grayson looked down, and shook his head. “You can't put me in this position.”
“No. I'm not, if you can't be vulnerable, if you still feel not comfortable enough to be vulnerable with me after six months of dating, then I don't think I'm the right person for you, Grayson.” It hurted her to say the last part. She really thought they were going to last forever when they started dating.
He was awfully quiet, he was deciding what to say. He knew what his problem was, but he just couldn't tell her. This is the right thing.
“Maybe you're right.” She knew what she said but hearing it from him was worse.
She nodded her head. “I'll take a cab home, and move out tomorrow.”
Grayson helped her with the cab. He wanted to be close to her at the last moment, because he was never going to get her back. After everything he did, and said she'll never take him back.
131 notes · View notes
jahayla-parker · 8 months ago
Text
Grayson Hawthorne Navigation
Tumblr media
NAVIGATION TOOLS:
FLUFF: ~
ANGST: *
Banners below sort fics based on type of work(s)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Coming Soon
Tumblr media
Coming Soon
Tumblr media
Coming Soon
Tumblr media
Request Information/Process/Status
Jameson Hawthorne Navigation
Book Boyfriends Masterlist/Navigation
Tumblr media
My Main (All Works) Masterlist/Navigation
Tumblr media
Grayson Hawthorne Tag List: @ell0ra-br3kk3r
14 notes · View notes
inmyheaddd · 6 months ago
Text
just feeling my way back to you - grayson hawthorne x reader
a/n: this was supposed to be a flashback in a grayson series i’m working on but idk if im ever gonna post it 💔 summary: having what was supposed to be a relaxing picnic by the river, took a very unexpected turn when it started raining. heavily. warnings: rain kiss rain kiss rain kiss!! nothing really tho wc: 1.6k masterlist
Tumblr media
you and grayson sat by a creek-river hybrid, the sun painting a golden hue over everything as the water beneath you seemed to glitter. 
there wasn’t much noise, apart from the rustling of leaves, the sound of the water, and of course, you and grayson’s non stop quiet chatter and laughter.
the air sent a breeze down your spine, but it did nothing to bother you. you don’t think anything could ever ruin this moment with you and grayson, with your head on his shoulder as you brought your knees to your chest.
well, one thing nearly came close. 
you felt a drop of water on your nose, making you sit up fully as you let out a small gasp. 
“oh my god, is it raining?” you reached your hand to wipe the droplet off your nose, only for more to start dropping on your face, faster, too.
you didn’t see the way grayson’s face turned into a slight frown when you lifted your head off his shoulder, you were too preoccupied with looking at the clouds as more rain started falling down, almost in awe.
grayson then found himself smiling as he watched you look up to the sky and laugh, a sound he’d replay over and over on a record player in his mind. 
his gaze stayed on your face as you tilted your head back down and looked at him, a grin spreading across your face. 
“i have an idea,” you said in a sing-song voice. 
“no.” he deadpanned. 
“i didn’t even tell you!” 
grayson raised his eyebrows at you, a hint of laughter in his voice. “your ideas in situations like these are never good.” 
your jaw fell open in mock offense. “never good? well that’s just a lie.”
his lips threatened to turn up. you would’ve barely noticed if it was anyone else, but you noticed everything about grayson. 
“i apologize, never sensible.” he corrected himself.
it was already raining harder now, but you paid it no mind. looking into grayson’s eyes felt the same as looking up at the stormy skies. 
“and when was the last time you had fun doing something sensible?” you retorted, and now grayson’s barely there smile fully cracked. 
it made way for a chuckle as he looked away from you, a light shake of his head before he ran a hand through his hair. 
you knew you’d gotten him with that one, muttering a small, “exactly.” as you turned yourself around, looking through the bag you’d brought with you. 
after flicking through extra clothes, snacks, your phones, and a speaker, you found the item you were looking for. 
“hey, grayson, this is waterproof, right?” you called out to him as you pulled his camera out of its cover. 
obviously grayson hawthorne’s far-too-expensive camera was waterproof, who were you kidding?
he hummed lowly, more in confusion as to answering your question. 
leaning forward with your legs crossed, you you set up the camera against a tree stump beside you, pressing the record button as grayson watched you — still slightly befuddled.
“hey guys, it’s raining!” you spoke into the camera, adjusting it so you and grayson were in frame with the scene behind you.
“—i’m with grayson hawthorne right now, on a sunday, 6:32 pm, and it’s raining!” you reiterated yourself with a laugh, setting the frame for whatever version of yourself would be looking back at this video in the future. you with grayson, you’d silently hoped.
as you talked, grayson looked at you like you were so much more than you actually were, with so much love in his eyes. it stilled you for a moment as you saw it in the camera. 
your attention was no longer on the camera as you sat upright again, looking at grayson with an ever present smile on your face. 
“what?” you laughed quietly.
in all of his hawthorne manner, he answered your question with one of his own. “what are you doing?” he said, his voice low, almost drowned out with the patter of the rain and sounds around you. 
and in all of your “i love annoying grayson” manner, you didn’t answer his question. you simply grabbed the camera and stood up, and his gaze followed you the whole time.
you jogged towards the river, the rain soaking through your clothes as you went, and set the camera up again on a large rock. grayson’s eyes widened slightly as he watched you.
"what are you doing?" he projected his voice over the rain, punctuating each word as he grew concerned. 
you shot him a quick look over your shoulder, your smile growing even wider. "making real memories!” you exclaimed.
before he could protest, you made sure everything was in frame on the camera, then took a few steps back, your bare feet sliding a little on the wet grass.
"you’re not serious," grayson stated as he followed after you, but there was a tiny hint of humour in his tone now.
"oh, i’m so serious!" you shouted back, already running toward the water.
"sweetheart, wait—" grayson reached out as if to stop you, but it was too late.
you launched yourself off the bank and into the river with a squeal, the cold water hitting you like a shock to the system. it wasn’t that deep— coming up to just below your chest. 
grayson stood frozen for a second, shaking his head as he watched you pop up, gasping and laughing, water streaming down your face as you smoothed your hair back.
"come in!" you called, laughing breathlessly, lifting your arms to show him how much fun you were having. "you know you want to!" you added, giggling to no end.
he hesitated, eyes flicking to the camera that was still recording. "i have absolutely no desire to go in. i truly worry for your sanity sometimes.” 
"my sanity may be questionable, but at least i’m having fun!" you countered, the water swirling around your legs as the rain kept falling. "this is all on camera, gray. if you don’t come in, you’ll be known forever as the grumpy blonde who stood on the sidelines, while i had the time of my life." 
grayson davenport hawthorne would forever be known as a lot of things— and you knew you were going to keep this video as a keepsake for just you two. precious, untarnished with the effects from anyone else. just yours.
maybe not everyone would know the real him— which in fact wasn’t the grumpy blonde like you had joked — but you did. and you were endlessly thankful for that.
grayson let out a deep, exasperated sigh, running a hand through his wet hair before speaking. “you’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.” 
"so are you getting in or not?" you teased, splashing water in his direction.
grayson looked at you for a second longer, hesitant, before pulling his shirt over his head, revealing his toned chest that had you grinning. 
this was always how it went with you two, but you liked — no, you loved it.
it was second nature for you two; you doing something he found reckless, and him following after you anyway. you completed eachother. 
he kicked off his shoes, then without another word, ran towards the water and landed with a massive splash.
you let out a huge squeal, shielding yourself from the wave and laughing uncontrollably as grayson surfaced, shaking the water from his hair.
you threw your head back laughing as grayson approached you. “i can’t believe you got in!” 
he let out a chuckle as he ran a hand through his hair, “you could get me to do just about anything on this planet.” he said softly, his hands finding your waist as the rain continued to pour around you.
you felt your heart skip a beat, but you didn’t let it show. you smiled up at him, the sound of the rain pattering against the water filling your senses. “just about?” you teased.
“anything.” he corrected himself, pulling you even closer against the water. 
"oh, that’s a dangerous amount of power to give someone, isn’t it?” you joked, putting your arms around grayson’s neck. “especially for a hawthorne like you." 
"oh, undoubtedly.” he teased you right back with a barely there smile, as one of his hands trailed up to caress your face. 
“even more so when it’s you." his voice was all low and smooth, it nearly turned you into putty in his arms.
"you’re lucky i don’t plan on abusing it," you said quietly, trying to keep things light, but you felt your heart hammering against your chest as his face drew nearer to yours. this would never get old.
he let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. "you already have, sweetheart." 
he said those words before finally pressing his lips to yours, and the kiss was perfect. it was everything and more that you could’ve ever hoped for, it was the rain kiss of your dreams. 
and just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, grayson’s hands travelled down to your thighs, signaling for you to wrap your legs around his torso. 
and that you did. 
you fought breaking into a smile as your hands weaved through his wet hair, and as you felt his hands on your body. 
it was nothing you hadn’t felt before, but it still gave you fireworks every damn time. 
as you pulled back back, both breathless and panting against eachother, you asked him a question. 
“you think that cameras still recording?” you murmured into the tiny space between you. 
“it can record for up to 48 hours before its battery begins to drain, its—”
you cut him off with a quiet laugh, “gray, a simple yes or no would’ve sufficed.”
he smiled, nodding and somehow putting his lips even closer without kissing you, “yes, then.” he breathed out— but you had a feeling he wasn’t really talking about the camera anymore as he pulled you in for another total mind-numbing, record breaking kiss. 
you didn’t need that camera to know that this moment would never be forgotten between the two of you.
Tumblr media
taglist: @charsoamerican @ariabedumb @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary
@littlemissmentallyunstable @whatsamongus @anintellectualintellectual @bewitchingkisses @maybxlle
@sheisntyou @midiosaamor @emelia07 @sweetreveriee (if you’d like to be added or removed pls lmk! 🤍)
198 notes · View notes
Note
bella PLEWSDE WRITE A GRAYSON HAWTHORNE BLURB OR WHAYEVER WITH READER WITH LOW IRON AND LIKE SHE ALMOST FAINTS BECAUSE THERES LITERALLY ZERO. ZERO FICS THAY HAVE THE READER WITH LOW IRON SO PPELAPSPESLLEPWDLEEL
AHHHHHH BELLE LET ME JUST BEGIN WITH AN APOLOGY BECAUSE I AM SO SO SO SO SORRY THIS FIC HAS TAKEN ME THREE BILLION YEARS TO GET AROUND TO WRITING!! THANK YOU FOR YOU REQUEST AND I PRAYYYY THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED…. (if not I will redo)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
title: I’m fine
pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader
synopsis: a story where ‘I’m fine’ means ‘I’m totally not fine but I’m not going to admit that’
warnings: dizziness, fainting
a/n: dedicating this to the beautiful @midiosaamor 💖💖 ily <33
taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @eternal--dream @shattered-glass-roses @book-nerd-emi @peppapigsposts @foreverwinter22
It only started as a headache, not bad enough to be classed as a migraine but bad enough to be considered more than your average headache. Still, I carried on typing the words out on my computer, my brain pulsating in pain.
I didn’t have time to rest off a headache, there was too much to do. I’d only started working four hours ago and if I didn’t get this done by tonight then my boss would not be happy. I mean it wasn’t exactly my fault she decided set me an assignment with a deadline on the same day but still, I had to work it all out and push through.
The tasks seemed endless, I typed word after word, in a state of not really registering what I was writing, just making the robotic movements to write. Clicking the keys and forming coherent sentences without anything being properly processed. It wasn’t unusual, I was used to my brain working faster than my body sometimes.
Still, my head throbbed on. For a second, I stopped the incessant tapping on my keyboard and pressed two fingertips softly to each temple. My hands were ice cold. I breathed in and out deeply a few times with my eyes shut before beginning to work again, praying a tiny reset would be what I needed. I knew I was lying to myself, I knew it would take more than that to soothe any pain but I carried on like I didn’t.
“Are you alright?”
As small gasp escaped my lips as I looked up to see Grayson standing in the doorframe, one hand at the top taking most of his weight. I wondered how long he’d been stood there and I hadn’t noticed.
“Mmmm,” I hummed in reply, going back to finish the sentence I was typing before I lost my train of thought. Then I looked back up at him again, “why?”
He walked in slowly looking at my face intently, “you look a little pale.”
He took my face into his palms and rubbed my cheek with his thumb. Small, gentle, long strokes, that made me lean into him further. I wanted to just curl up in his arms and sleep, but my work clearly had other ideas.
“Just a headache,” I brushed it off, pulling away from his touch reluctantly, “is there any aspirin?”
“There is,” he nodded slowly, his eyebrows pinching together in concern, “but I really think you ought to lay down if it’s this bad.”
“I don’t need to,” I shook my head stubbornly, standing up to look him dead in the eye, “I’m fine.”
What a lie.
“You don’t look fine,” he told me softly, the anxiety rippling across his perfected features. His hands curved around the small of my back and I tried to enjoy it instead of thinking about the throbbing of my head.
So despite my ache, I smiled, “well I feel fine.”
Sometimes I lied so easily and so well it worried me. I shouldn’t be this good at something so cruel. But maybe more than him, I was lying to myself to convince a part of me that I wasn’t as feeling as bad as I thought I felt.
Grayson gave me another worried glance, thumb running up and down the base of my spine rhythmically, the softness of his touch sending a chill through it.
“Have you eaten today?” he asked me, the tingling up my back dying down.
“Earlier,” I nodded, my eyes flicking the time in the bottom corner of my screen realising my ‘earlier’ actually meant six hours ago. On cue, my stomach seized in a hungry protest, sending a tight knot like sensation across my abdomen. I prayed it wouldn’t grumble, betraying my lies to Gray.
“I haven’t seen you eat or-“
“Stop the fussing,” I grinned to bear it, “I’m fine, just need a tablet and some water.”
“Maybe lay off the work then,” he suggested, cocking his head towards my computer screen.
“Grayson I need to get this done,” I sighed gently, “a little headache can’t stop me.”
“Okay…” he said unsurely, hesitating for a few seconds.
“Stop worrying,” I forced a laugh through my searing brain, glancing up at him and looking through those truth-reeling gray eyes.
“I’m not,” his right hand twitches at my side. Liar. “Sit down and I’ll go and get you the aspirin, okay?”
“Okay then,” I nodded, sitting down. Another chill ran through my spine, though this time it was because of the empty place left where his hands had just been.
I took a few more deep breaths, feeling a little out of it all of a sudden. It was like I was in the room but I wasn’t at the same time. I closed my eyes and let the weight of my skull fall into my palms, breathing even deeper, heavier.
I let myself hang, like a lifeless marionette forgotten by her puppeteer, everything leaden and dopey. When I heard Grayson coming back and quickly opened my eyes and sat up a little bit straighter. If he saw me like that he’d get stressed and that’s the last he needed. It was only a headache after all.
Just a really bad headache.
“Thank you,” I kissed him on the cheek as he passed me the aspirin pill and a glass of water.
He cupped my face in his hands, “you promise me you’re fine?”
“I promise promise promise you,” I whispered, feigning another smile. My jaw was starting to ache. I don’t know it’s it from the guilt of lying or the forceful action of smiling or maybe it was just the headache transferring.
I took the tablet between my fingertips and put it at the back of my mouth before swallowing it quickly with water. I shivered afterwards. I hate taking tablets.
Grayson squeezed my shoulders softly, “do you want me to stay here?”
“Didn’t I just ‘promise promise promise’ you I was fine?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
He looked at me and sighed. Worry ran riot across his eyes, swirling anxious thoughts into pools of grey. How bad did I look?
“I haven’t got much work left to do, okay?” I said, “I just need to get through this.”
He took his time walking out and although I didn’t look at him I was convinced he kept looking back every through steps to check on me. Finally he left and I downed the glass of water.
I sat still for a moment, analysing how I felt. I didn’t think it was possible but my head had worsened. I internally groaned as dread filled my body. It wasn’t supposed to worsen. I prayed the tablet would kick in, after all I hadn’t really given it a chance.
I took a long breath out and continued tapping away at the keypad. After a while the continuous clicking and clacking was beginning to irritate me. Like an itch I couldn’t quite scratch. My already pounding head felt pounded with the small noises over and over like they were making a mockery of it. Still I continued, there wasn’t much left now and if I could just finish it l, all would be okay.
After about a billion spell checks - seriously why does psychology have a ‘p’ and ‘h’ in it, it’s so irrelevant - I thought I might be ready to finish when I realised I’d missed a whole section.
By now my head was almost unbearable. Torturous agony was creeping up behind my eye now as well as the front of my head. A whole section felt like it would be the death of me. And I’d noticed something weirdly unnatural about my breathing. Every breath in didn’t feel like enough oxygen. So I began to breathe more deeply and when that wasn’t working, more quickly.
That only fuelled my rising panic about the weird nature of these symptoms. They were familiar. Why couldn’t I breathe normally? What was wrong? Maybe it was more than a headache? Questions raced through my head faster than it had time to process them all.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
My head pounded on and like the idiot that I am, I carried on writing. My vision blurred out for a fraction of a second then cleared shortly after. I rubbed my eyes. It was just the screen. Just the screen.
It happened a few more times, so I cleaned my glasses with the bottom of my jumper for good measure. More notes, more notes, more notes, more notes. I quickly hit save in the document for fear if my computer crashed I would lose it all. I sighed as I then went to drink from my water glass only to realise it was empty.
“Gray!” I yelled, “could you grab me another glass of water please?”
I barely registered his reply, my only focus being the stupid piece of work. ‘I can last a little longer’ I repeated over and over in my mind. Until I was bored. Until I was delirious. Until I was too brain dead to care.
I could hear Grayson approaching so got up to meet him at the door. I wanted a ten second break from staring straight at the glowing screen. Suddenly, mid step, I stumbled. Straight away Grayson had one hand around the small of my back gripping tightly and the another on my upper arm, steadying me. I try to laugh it off as a I mistake but even that sounded weak.
“Woah sweetheart,” he said, his hold firmer as he set me straight, “what’s going on?”
“I’m fine,” I shrugged, trying to get back to my chair, my legs feeling too much like jelly for my liking.
I could see he didn’t believe me completely, he didn’t have to say a word. Grayson, instead, took me in his arms. I couldn’t ask to sit down after that, then I’d be admitting that something was wrong. So I stayed standing, my body against his. The only thing holding me up was him.
He looked at me, tender eyed and consumed with concern, “you’re clearly not my love.”
“Gray, I just tripped,” I said smoothly, praying he’d let me twist the truth as I tried to stop my legs from shaking.
“Don’t lie to me,” he murmured in a low voice, curling his other arm around my waist for support.
“I’m not lying,” I shrugged, continuing to be in denial as I gripped to his shirt so tightly my knuckles went white, “I’m fine.”
As soon as the words left my lips everything spun. I closed my eyes and pressed my head against his chest, hoping it would all just go away. My feet swayed a little and panic seized my throat at the unsteadiness. I made a choked sound, halfway between a gasp and a silent scream.
“It’s okay,” Grayson whispered softly, “I’ve got you.” He brought a hand up through the back of my hair and gently held onto the back of my head to steady it.
“Dizzy,” I murmured into him, my voice slurred and slowed. I felt so out of it.
We stayed like that for I don’t know how long. My concept of time was as hazy as my vision. I just remembered staying very still, Grayson’s hands not leaving my body and how hard my forehead was pressed against him.
After a while, I tried to stand back on my own, thinking the dizzy spell was over but as soon as I did the room became a whirlpool of colours and blob-ish shapes. I felt myself lose my footing completely and before I knew it was falling backwards.
Strong arms tensed around my torso and quickly caught me, “oh sweetheart,” I heard Grayson say as he safely lowered me to the ground.
My legs became lifeless pieces of flesh, heavy as led but weak as a flimsy childhood doll. My head felt heavy in his lap as it pounded on. I sewed my eyes shut, it helped a little with the dizziness. His cold fingers tentatively touched my forehead and I leant into them ever so slightly with what energy I had left.
“I’m going to carry you to bed,” he told me gently, as I felt one arm around my back and the other under my legs.
“But my work-“ I groaned, feeling a little nauseated from the dizziness.
He held me tightly, “no sweetheart, forget about work, you need to rest.”
I didn’t reply and instead feebly gripped my deadened limbs around his neck and prayed for all of this to just go away.
“Gray,” I murmured into his chest.
“Yeah?”
“I’m not fine,” I said, somewhere between a sob and mumble.
“I know sweetheart,” he whispered, pressing a shaky kiss on my temple, “I know.”
He scooped me into his arms and carried me to the bedroom, laying me on the bed, before tucking me under the covers. Not letting go of my hand, that gripped him so tightly I don’t know how he didn’t complain. I heard him dialling a number.
“Who are you calling?” I slurred.
“Someone to come and help you,” he responded swiftly.
“Mhmm,” I could only muster in response.
His thumb rubbed circles up and down my hand, “I’m going to stay right here okay?” he comforted, “can you still hear me?”
“Don’t go,” I whispered, feeling quite pathetic but not self-conscience enough to care.
“No I’m staying sweetheart,” he squeezed my palm in his, “I’m staying.”
My eyes fluttered open as my head lazily lolled to one side, “I’m dizzy,” I groaned, not remembering if I’d mentioned already.
“I know,” Grayson whispered, a hand pushing my hair out of the way, “I know.”
“Can I rest my eyes?” I asked him, closing them anyway.
“No, you can’t go to sleep,” he told me.
“No just rest my eyes…” I trailed off, pausing for a long while, my train of thought wavering, “…to stop the spinning.”
“Squeeze my hand every three seconds then,” he said, “so I know you’re awake.”
“Deal,” I barely managed to whisper before I felt the need to increase my breathing rate. It felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen in my system.
I squeezed his hand every three seconds, just about keeping track of the numbers. But with every squeeze I could feel myself growing weaker and weaker, like all of my energy was being drained slowly and mercilessly. The only thing that kept me from closing my eyes was Grayson’s gentle touches. His soft fingertips trailing over my face, tracing the contours or drawing spirals on my upper arms and neck.
I opened my eyes for a moment, when the darkness was just as bad as the light, when I felt dizzy no matter whether my eyes were closed or open. Things blurred and cleared, darkened and became normal again over and over and over. Until, a piercing ringing coursed through my ears and everything other sound seemed to be submerged under water. I knew what that meant I was close to.
“Gray,” I murmured shakily.
“Yes?”
“I’m going to pass out,” I told him, a single tear trailing its way down my cheek, “I can feel it.”
I knew the signs well enough and every sign was pointing that way.
“It’s okay,” he said, positioning himself behind me, so my back was pressed against his torso and he could support my head, “I’ve got you.”
“I don’t want to pass out,” I sobbed, black spots dancing across my vision in mockery.
The worst part is always before you passed out because when you’re out you feel and remember nothing. But before, you know what’s coming and you know you can’t stop it.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he mumbled into my hair, slowly, comfortingly, “you’re safe, if you need to pass out, you can and your body will, whether you like it or not.”
My hands were shaking, fingers rocking back and forth, bumping into one another clumsily, “I’m scared,” I said between uneven breaths.
I grabbed Grayson’s forearm to attempt to still them, my fingers so brutally desperate in their clinging that they constricted his blood flow. No matter how many times I’d passed out,, I always felt just as scared.
“You don’t need to be scared,” he soothed gently, “I’ve got you, I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”
“You promise,” I panted, looking up at him, chest rising up and down harshly.
“I promise,” he leant down and planted a sweet of kiss on my nose.
I kept looking up, until his gray eyes clouded with dark spots, until calm expression replaced with an endless see of nothingness, until the whisperings of sweet words ceased. My breathing was heavy, growing heavier by the second and then… then there was black.
***
I felt thick and heavy with drowsiness. My body felt so weighted it ached. My back was against the mattress, my head flat on the pillow, I was anchored to my bed. The covers had been adjusted to just under my neck and I could feel someone’s hand in mine.
I winced as I opened my eyes, the light attacking them too viciously. Immediately Grayson dimmed it down, holding my cheek tentatively in his palm.
“Hey sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing my forehead.
“Gray?”
He traced a soft thumb over the bone where my eyebrow sat as he asked, “how are you feeling?”
“Tired,” I mumbled, stifling a yawn.
“Here,” he said gently, “have some water.”
Slowly he helped me prop myself up, his hand pressed up against my back, the other tipping the glass towards my lips. I swallowed, the water feeling odd against the dryness of my throat.
“How long was I out for?” I coughed.
“Only a bit,” he said, laying me back down, “the doctors have come and gone, they say you’ll be okay with some rest.”
“Why did I pass out?” I asked tiredly, “do they know?”
“You hadn’t taken your iron tablets in three days,” Grayson explained, cocking his head towards my table.
I glanced to my bedside and gasped. Three days worth of unconsumed tablets sat there. I never usually forgot, one day maybe but three whole days. That was unheard of. Guilt permeated me, all the stress I’d probably put Grayson under could’ve been entirely prevented.
“I must’ve forgotten,” I sighed leaning deeper into my pillow, “work has just been so hectic lately and-“
“Hey, hey, hey, I didn’t tell you to worry you, I told you so you wouldn’t overthink what was wrong,” he said softly, “but it’s okay, you’re okay, that’s all that matters.”
“But it’s not okay because it’s all my fault,” I bursted into tears, the shock wave of random emotion leaving me senseless, “I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you I wasn’t fine and then I just passed out and that probably really stressed you out and I could’ve stopped all of that if I’d just taken the stupid tablets.”
“Sweetheart,” he pressed a palm flat on my chest, “breathe, it’s okay.”
His voice was the constant in my current of chaotic overthinking. This had happened before many times, my low iron deficiency had always been an issue, but even the very first time I’d passed out he was so much calmer than I’d expected.
He kept calm for me.
“God I feel like an idiot,” I choked out a pathetic laugh, wiping my eyes roughly with the back of my hand.
“You’re not an idiot, love,” he soothed, taking my hand gently into his and replacing with with the pad of his thumb, as he gently wiped away the tears that were left, “it happens.”
“It shouldn’t happen,” I shook my head defiantly.
I don’t forget things. I never forget things.
“Hey,” Grayson said, “look at me, you’re fine, I’m fine and that’s all that’s important.”
He held my face in his palms and looked at me like I meant the world.
“I’m sorry,” I let the weight of my head fall into his hands, taking the ache from my neck.
“Don’t apologise,” he said, “there’s no need for you to, just relax.”
I closed my eyes, his palm warm and comforting against my cheek. His fingers found their way to the top of my head, soothingly running through my hair over my scalp.
“Do you want me to get in with you?” he asked.
I nodded sleepily and watched as he slipped into the bed beside me. I was quick to snuggle close, intertwining my legs with his and burying my face into his chest. I inhaled and exhaled slowly.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he whispered in a low voice in my ear as his arms curved around my waist.
“Tired,” I mumbled.
“It’s okay,” he ushered, “you can go to sleep.”
“What if you go?” I asked, like a child.
“I won’t, I promise,” Grayson said, “I’ll stay here with you.”
I smiled to myself, and squeezed his arm, “I love you,” I murmured, “so much.”
“I love you too sweetheart,” he planted a kiss on the top of my head, “more than this world. Get some rest now.”
So I shut my eyes and fell longingly into sleep’s arms.
a/n: hope you enjoyed guys, sorry I haven’t posted much 💖💖
TIG masterlist
207 notes · View notes
emelia07 · 8 months ago
Text
hello all my lovely writers, i am here in the public asking for a jealous reader and or comfort fic with grayson because of lyra.
i post this publicly because i know there are many amazing writers who could take this prompt and turn it into something amazing <3
171 notes · View notes
whousestypewriters · 10 months ago
Text
driving with you - grayson hawthorne x reader hc's
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: grayson hawthorne x fem!reader
warnings: minor swearing
a/n: NADSIES DO YOU SEE ME HEHEHEHE. also the way i was dying internally while writing this omg. i need me some grayson hawthorne. i also stole different bits of inspo from @nqds post where this idea originally came from (im unoriginal guys okay??) lemme know if u want creds!
taglist: @nqds, @lxvebelle, @reminiscentreader, @ecliphttlunar, @ravenclawdirectioner,
@tornqdowarnings
Tumblr media
this boy 100% has a fancy nice car - a bmw, mercedes you name it
he's usually really strict about people in his car *cough* xander and jamie *cough* but with you he relaxes a little more
he is always touching you some how, whether its your thigh or just holding your hand
HAND KISSES JUST YES!!
and um excuse me?? his hands??
they'd clench the steering wheel every time he'd get pissed with another car
the hand veins!!!!! (im a slut for hand veins guys im sorry)
and speaking of graysons hands he's always wearing watches like the super expensive ones - so he's always on time - and he never lets anyone borrow them
so you made it your mission to see if you could steal them during the car ride
after you had successfully stolen his watch several times he just lets you have it not really bothering about being on time anymore
as long as he's spending time with you
he has silent road rage
you gotta look for it because its never obvious and he hides it really well eg:
his jaw clenching whenever he's annoyed with other cars
you take it upon yourself whenever you see his jaw clench, to cup it and lean over and press a kiss to it, making him unclench it
it works every time
grayson has a hoodie his in the car at all times in case you get cold
in fact grayson's usually extremely clean car is littered with little bits of you: books, hair ties, jewellery,
he's also a drive in silence kind of guy
until you ofc
you best believe grayson is smiling adoringly at you when you're singing your heart out
when you fall alseep during a drive he slows down slighty and tries to avoid the bumps more so he doesn't wake you
he's a rlly safe driver
stopping at red lights is one of his fav things because he can just stare unabashedly at you
it makes you blush every time
he's more relaxed with you in the car when he drives
driving with you is his favourite thing
lets all collectively agree that grayson davenport hawthorne is Hot capital H when driving okay??
Tumblr media
a/n pt2: so im in love with grayson driving- lemme know what you think!
362 notes · View notes
xoxochb · 17 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“fifteen minutes, no english.”
“ten.”
“fifteen.”
“twelve.”
you sigh. “fine, twelve.”
you slip your phone out of your pocket and open the timer app, setting it for twelve minutes. before pressing start, you glance back up to jameson.
“ready?”
“born.”
you nod and press start on the timer, throwing your phone on the bed and letting it play out.
“bon chance!” you pull your legs up to your chest and rest your chin on your knees.
jameson similarly makes himself comfortable, crossing his legs. “c’est ennuyeux.”
“tu est un bébé.”
he reaches out and pinches your bare leg. you yelp and slide out of his reach so he is unable to do so again.
“j’ai faim.”
whine whine whine!
you shake your head. “reste ici.”
jameson pouts and dramatically flops back down onto the bed in mock dismay. you won’t give into him though. he had agreed to the terms and the rules of the game and he would have to follow them.
you sit up against the headboard, stretching your legs out in front of you. jameson rolls onto his side to rest his head upon your tummy. you pat his head.
“je vous aime.” he slips up your shirt to place kisses to your skin.
you roll your eyes. “pas de nourriture pendant…” your voice trails off. you reach to grab your phone and check the timer. “dix minutes. tu survivras.”
“je vais dépérir!” he whines melodramatically.
you tug a strand of his hair. he stops whining swiftly.
“tu aimes te plaindre. comme un bébé.”
“I’m a grown man!”
Tumblr media
°˖➴ yes this is me flexing my french speaking skills
95 notes · View notes