#grayson hawthorne drabble

[adddddiiii]

hi, can i request a grayson hawthorne x fem!reader where reader is the girl from harvard grayson kissed (the one he mentioned in TFG) please?

Midnight Rain

Author's Note: this is such an interesting idea, I had a lot of fun writing this!

Contents: Grayson Hawthorne x reader

Harvard was never about legacy for you. It was about clawing your way up through sheer grit — scholarships, sleepless nights, being ten steps ahead because you couldn’t afford to be behind. Your name didn’t open doors. You had to pick every lock yourself.

That’s where Grayson came in.

He wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a name on the debate roster. Just another privileged heir with polished shoes and a voice like honeyed power. But he didn’t talk like the rest of them. He listened. He watched. He noticed when you skipped the champagne at those networking events, when you always left early, when you called professors by their first names and never asked for favors.

You weren’t interested in him. You told yourself that a dozen times.

But it’s hard to ignore someone who doesn’t fit in the box you built for them.

Your rivalry started on the floor of Harvard’s School forum. Public, passionate, and intellectually brutal. He cut through arguments like glass; you burned through them like fire. The professors loved it. The students placed bets. Everyone assumed there was something between you.

You swore there wasn’t.

And then, one night, it rained.

You had stayed late in the library, exhausted after a paper that refused to sound smart enough. The campus was quiet, all warm lights and wet pavement. You stepped outside, tugged your coat tighter, and there he was — Grayson Hawthorne, leaning against the side of the building like a scene from a film he was too aware he belonged in.

“You look like you’ve been fighting the universe,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “Just a paper.”

He walked you halfway across campus, not offering his coat, not playing the chivalry game. Just walking, asking about your thesis topic, listening like your words meant something. And right before you reached the steps of your dorm, you stopped.

“So what’s your angle, Hawthorne?” you asked.

“No angle,” he said. “You just intrigue me.”

It wasn’t a smooth line. It wasn’t charming. It was honest in a way that caught you off guard.

And maybe that’s why you let him kiss you.

It wasn’t dramatic or perfect. It was hesitant, like two people trying to figure out if they were making a mistake.

Then it ended. He left. No follow-up. No explanation.

You told yourself it was just a blip. A moment. Not something to dwell on.

You lied.

[miawastaken]

Grayson Hawthorne is the type of guy who’d learn your native language for you if the two of you dated.

Like I can imagine this man pulling out textbooks from one of the Hawthorne libraries and oh my lord the dedication this man would have is not funny.

He’d have stuff written on his hands to remember, full notebooks of phrases, sentences greetings etc.

Oh and the best part?

He’d probably surprise you on your anniversary by saying something to you in the language.

Hell I wouldn’t be surprised if he gave a 20 minute speech in your language.

Needless to say Graysons love language is definitely taking interests in your interests and quality time in general.

[angelmurmur]

Grayson Hawthorne fluff literally anything but maybe some of sleepy gray? Also love all ur work 🙈

— stay

warnings: none!

pairing(s): grayson hawthorne x reader

a/n: aaa thank u so much ily!! that means a lot given i’ve only written like three fics so far loll, also i love love love this request!

the morning sun peeks through the window and the rays gently land on your eyes, causing them to flutter open. your head is buried in grayson’s chest and you can hear the calming, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. both of his arms are wrapped around your torso while one of your legs is slung over both of his, your bodies intertwined.

you pull back slightly to get a good look at his face without waking him up. his blond hair is messed up instead of perfectly styled like normal, the strands going in all directions. the usual wrinkle-free suit is replaced with a slightly rumpled grey shirt and dark blue plaid pajama pants. his features are softened and he looks oh so peaceful.

your moment of admiration for him is cut short when you remember you and avery had plans today. you’re not even sure what time it is, but based off the way the sun shines through the blinds, it’s around eleven in the morning. you sigh, knowing you have to get up.

seeing grayson still in bed at eleven is a rare sight. usually, he wakes up in the early morning with his day already carefully planned — every single hour is thought about. however, with you, the urgency to be in control and prepared always seems to lessen. with you, he allows himself to relax.

you try to free yourself of his grip and it’s working for a second until his arms subconsciously tighten around your body. you sigh out of slight frustration, but the thought that he wants you closer even in his sleep brings a small smile to your face.

“gray,” you murmur, tapping his back gently so he can wake up.

he slightly stirs from the feeling. “mm?” he hums in acknowledgment, still half asleep.

“i need to get up. avery and i are hanging out today,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

his brows furrow softly when you say you have to go. “avery can wait a little longer, love,” he mumbles quietly, his words slurring together.

you frown. “she’ll be mad at me, gray.” once again, you try to untangle yourself out of his arms. and, once again, he doesn’t budge.

“no she won’t, sweetheart. she’ll understand,” he reassures you quietly. “stay.”

you narrow your eyes incredulously at his statement, a smile forming on your lips. “she’ll understand that i blew off our plans to sleep with my boyfriend?”

he lets out a small chuckle. his silver eyes open slowly, they’re half-lidded and looking down at you softly. “if your plans don’t include paid reservations, she’ll be alright.”

you roll your eyes at his logic, but your smile stays nonetheless. “you get five more minutes, gray.”

he hums in disapproval and closes his eyes. “ten,” he counters.

“five.”

“ten.” obviously, he’s not willing to compromise.

instead of insisting on five minutes this time, you pause and begin considering it. ten more minutes with him doesn’t sound all that bad.

“...fine.”

a slow, knowing smile tugs at the corners of his lips. he brings one of his hands up to the back of your head and gently starts stroking your hair. “you’re a terrible negotiator, love,” he says softly.

“shut up,” you mumble and bury your head back in his chest.

he simply pulls you in closer and you sling your leg over his, just like how you two were before. he places a gentle kiss on the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulls away. a content sigh leaves your lips and you shut your eyes, letting the warmth of his body take you in.

you’ll text avery an apology later. much, much later.

[calebsamor]

❪ ✦ ❫ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒, 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐒𝐄.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: grayson hawthorne x fem!reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: it was supposed to be a fun truth or dare game with your harvard friends and grayson. but truth or dares arent always innocent.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: drinking, smart kids, harvard kids, parties, truth or dare, kissing

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 486

𝐀/𝐍: idk if i should post this or not because this is my og idea and im making a wattpad fanfic about this BUT ITS FINE IF SOMEONE GETS INSPO ABOUT THIS RIGHT?? GENAGG IDK also its pretty short but ehh its late and im half asleep rn

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄.

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃: ✓

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: @reminiscentreader @never-enough-novels @ilyiwdtpyiwmyhmtkys @evaswarner @sc11vb @sophiesonlinediary @starrynightsxo @f4iry-bell @his-littlefox @viivdle @aaron-warner @reyreadersblog @urbanflorals @nqds

you weren’t a fan of truth-or-dare games. after all, you knew how they ended. flings, heartbreak, betrayal, love, etc etc. you weren’t too into that. though, you couldn’t say no to your friends whenever they asked you to play a game at a party.

so here you are, out of your harvard uniform and instead in a black dress, sitting down on a couch with your friends. they sit down in a circle with, surprisingly, grayson hawthorne sitting down on another couch next to you.

he’s never the talkative one. the two of you weren’t friends; but not strangers either. so it was surprising when you found him.

“alright. who’s gonna go first?” your friend, ariana asks. “me!” another friend says out loud. “okay. uhm… micheal. truth or dare?”

and so the game went on. there was some drama—even though it was solved—some kisses and some 7 minutes in heaven. not surprisingly, grayson didn’t contribute to anything. he just sat there.

“okay… y/n,” tristan says, a lipstick mark from ariana close to his lips still stained. “truth or dare?” you hum, sitting crossed on the couch. “dare,” you say with a shrug. the night’s about to end, anyway.

“alright. i dare you to… kiss grayson.”

you choke on nothing and some of your friends gasp, the others laughing. “he isn’t even playing,” you retort, glancing at grayson. he’s looking at you. god, you hate how you can’t see his reactions.

“so? he’s still here. it still counts,” tristan shrugs, smirking. you shoot him a glare before groaning. it’s just a kiss, anyways. “you know what? fine. but i’m going to kill you after this, tristan anthony gavins.”

he puts his hands up defensively as you grumly stand up, looking at grayson. he’s sitting straight now, looking up at you from the couch. his stance—you can’t read. tense? calm?

you sigh before walking over toward the blond.

“sorry, gray,” you mumble, before bending down, grabbing his chin, and pulling his face towards you, his lips touching.

you two were both kind of drunk. you knew that grayson got even more quiet when he got drunk—for some weird reason—and he likes to be alone.

so, it’s surprising when he kisses back. there was no tongue when you felt his hands lightly slide to your waist and lips move in sync with your own.

it’s even more surprising when you could’ve sworn his lips chase yours when you pull back. you forget about the group of friends watching you closely. all the other people in the party as you stare into his grey, cold eyes. but now there’s something different in them. but you don’t know what.

the clearing of a throat makes you break eye contact and walk back to your coach. “alrighty…” another friend says nervously before the game starts again.

you could’ve sworn you felt grayson’s eyes on you for the rest of the party.

[thelov3lybookworm]

for the first time, i have queued two fics in advance and im so proud rn

Edit: i somehow saved this thing in drafts 🫠🫠🫠

[artstatues]

Slow dancing in the dark. - l.k × g.h

wc : 553

pairings : lyra kane x grayson hawthorne, from the inheritance games.

synopsis : lyra kane stays up late in the library to solve some clues. thats until the game master walks in and asks for a dance.

warnings : nothing??

a/n : idk, i guess you can count this as a second part of this fic, but thats up to you. anyways, its not proofread bc i think this is a bit more of a drabble.

taglist : @never-enough-novels, @reminiscentreader, @lxvebelle, @kozumesphone, @sophiesonlinediary, @shuhuaspookie, @off-to-the-r4ces, @pockyyasii, @starrynightsxo, @urbanflorals.

Lyra hunched over to get a better view of the picture on her laptop. The picture contained a clue, an unsolved riddle she took a picture of. It was hidden somewhere in the island’s mansion, she was sure she was the first person to find the clue, but Rohan was also pretty clever– no, very clever. Knox Landry and Odette Morales were a close third. No one shared clues, not even Odette, who Lyra could call a friend in the game, supposedly. She had snuck into the Game Master’s office for this clue. Where he’d caught her, unfortunately.

The library was dimly lit, since it was late at night. Lyra’s sleeping schedule went downhill after joining the game, but the things she could get done and the riddles she could solve while others were sleeping were truly an advantage. The door to the library creaked open, it would always creak, the sort of creak that’d scratch your ears, which was quite odd for a new building. Lyra turned her head towards the person. The game master. He was in something else than a suit, which caused Lyra to tilt her head and raise an eyebrow. “Did you find anything amusing, Miss Kane?” Grayson strode closer towards her, pulling out the chair across her. “Your choice of fashion, Game Master.” She addressed his title mockingly. He was wearing a navy sweatshirt, large letters spelling “HARVARD” across the sweatshirt. He was also wearing a pair of joggers. If any other person caught a glimpse of his outfit, they’d label it as pajamas, but was Lyra wearing anything fancy? No. Lyra sat there with a band tee and shorts, her hair pulled into a somewhat of a bun.

Grayson placed his elbow on the table, where his chin rested on his palm, admiring Lyra. She hasn’t muttered a single word except a few curses here and there. Where Lyra found his ‘choice of fashion’ amusing, he found her brows furrowing, her little whispers of curses, and her groans amusing to watch. It was a lovely and utterly beautiful spectacle. He had a teasing smirk on his face. “Stop smirking at me Davenport. You already know the answers, it isn’t fair.” Lyra remarked. Grayson only raised an eyebrow in sarcasm, “I do, but I also do admit watching you is quite a spectacle.” He gave a soft, pleasing smile. Lyra glared, confusing Grayson. “What? Oh, in a good way– I mean.” Grayson assured.

“Would you like to dance–?” Grayson blurted out of the complete blue. “What?” Lyra furrowed her eyebrows in surprise. “I said–” Grayson tried to repeat himself before Lyra cut him off. “No, I heard what you said. Just– that was a bit random.” Lyra slowly closed her laptop and finally got up from the chair after hours. Lyra hesitatedly opened her phone and played a song. “I’m assuming you meant slow dance?” She smiled. “Yes.” Grayson stepped closer, and closer. His hands snaked around her waist while Lyra’s went to his shoulder. A soft smile was plastered on the pair’s faces.

Lyra never took Grayson Hawthorne to be a dancer, of all people. The couple slowly spun around the room, enjoying the company of the other person.

After all, they were only two people; The Game Master, and the player, somehow lucky enough to coexist.

[riddles-n-games]

THL Kiss Drabbles-Pt. 3

A Forever Kind of Love

I waited for Jameson to ask me about the postcards. I waited for him to flirt with me, to touch me, to Jameson Hawthorne the answer out of me. But all he did was hand me a club.

I lined up the shot. Part of me wanted him to come stand behind me, wanted his arms to wrap around mine. Jameson on the roof. Grayson in the maze. My mind was a mess. I was a mess.

I dropped the club.

“My mother was Kaylie Rooney’s sister,” I said. And so it began. It was hard to put into words everything I’d learned, but I managed. The more I said, the easier it was to see Jameson thinking.

The more he thought, the closer to me he came.

“What do you think Toby left in Jackson that’s worth so much?” he asked. “And where in Jackson?” Jameson studied me like my face held the answers. “How long did Toby’s amnesia last? Why stay ‘dead’ once his memory returned?”

“Guilt.” I almost choked on the word, though I couldn’t have explained why. “Toby loathed himself almost as much as he loved my mom.”

That was the first time I’d said that last bit out loud. Toby Hawthorne loved my mother. She loved him. It had been an epic, seaside kind of love. Literally. Just knowing that made me feel like I’d been lying to myself every time I’d pretended that I didn’t have feelings, that things didn’t have to be messy. 

That I could have what I wanted without ever really longing for anything, body and soul. And the truth was that I knew I was. Maybe Max was right, that night at True North, when she said that I didn’t allow myself to want, that I held everybody at arm’s length. 

“Heiress?” There was a question in Jameson’s deep green eyes. I wasn’t sure what he was asking, what he wanted from me. But looking at him, I felt a longing that felt buried deep in my chest and a sob was building up in the back of my throat.

I wonder what he saw. A hopeless romantic? A liar who was actually attached to him? A girl who did long for an epic sort of love? One that would last a lifetime, beyond that. And my inner compass was pointing directly at him, the one person who couldn’t grant me what I wanted. But it was rattling erratically with such force and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. The crazy thing was, I didn’t want it to. 

Maybe I was being irrational but I didn’t want this “no-strings attached” thing anymore. I wanted him, I couldn’t lie to myself any longer, I don’t know why I thought that a no-strings arrangement wouldn’t backfire on me; that I wouldn’t catch feelings. How could I not? 

“Avery?” His voice broke me out of my thoughts. He was closer now and looked concerned as he slowly cupped my cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head and a tear slid down my cheek. He swiped it with his thumb. I couldn’t speak, the words were stuck, and the urge to cry was stronger. What wasn’t? Toby’s message to stop looking, I missed my mom, I fell for the guy I told myself I wouldn’t and I wanted to say how I felt but I didn’t know how to. I didn’t want to scare him. But being with Jameson made me realize that we could be more, he could be something to me. I could love and be loved in return. If my mom could have it, even for a short while, why couldn’t I? 

“Kiss me,” I whispered hoarsely. He obliged. His mouth pressed against mine in a perfect, tender, all-consuming kiss. It was everything I needed it to be and I let the tears flow but Jameson caught every single one. He continued to gently brush them away with his thumbs and when he pulled away, he started peppering small kisses on my cheeks, catching each new one that fell. I let him. 

Then, he stopped and I opened my eyes, catching sight of his sad smile. I think he knew. But he surprised me. “I’m here, Heiress. I don’t know what’s going through your head right now but I’m here for you. It’s going to be okay.” 

He leaned forward again and kissed my forehead, bringing an arm around me and stroking my hair gently. I felt like crying again. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, clutching his blazer. “It’s going to be okay, Avery.” It’s going to be okay. And I believed that. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. Soon, I’ll say it. I’ll tell him how I feel, no matter what. It was going to be okay.

“I think I’m in love with you,” I whispered.

I might have been imagining it but I think he said something back. “I think I’m in love with you, too.”

[kenwrites-alot]

writing !!!!

i’ve done a complete rebrand from my other account (@fem-weeb) and have deemed this account for non- anime writing, aka book blurbs, fluff writing, drabble, etc!

list of topics i’ll be writing (ps: i mostly write fem!reader but am open to gn!reader.)

the inheritance games (jameson hawthorne, grayson hawthorne, xander hawthorne, rebecca laughlin)

jenny han universe (peter kavinsky, john ambrose, conrad fisher, minho, cam cameron.)

percy jackson universe (luke castellan, percy jackson, leo valdez)

avatar: the last airbender (zuko, sokka, mako, bolin.)

expect more as well, I may have left some out.

[inmyheaddd]

can I ask what fic your currently working on?

yeah ofc!!

i’m currently working on another grayson hawthorne childhood friends to lovers (not too sure if i should make it a series or a stand alone lmao) and a little jameson sad/fluffy drabble!!

i also just got started on like 3 requests but i still have a lot more to do 😭 i literally have them all planned + a ‘vision’ but no actual time to actually sit and write them down because of school 💔?.!.!.?? can’t wait for the weekend

[pockyyasii]

for those who are new - 「 intro post ! 」 . . .

jk click here <3

yasi's 100 follower event !

ty so so so much!! can i just thank all of my mutuals and followers for making me feel so loved here? if i have a bad day at school or home i log into tumblr and everyone's so supportive and welcoming and i love u guys for it! u really know how to cheer a sad, teenage girl up <3 without every single one of you, my life would've been extremely sad and meaningless! thank you, and i love you all!

yang jungwon -> i will make a spotify playlist for you (request a theme, character, fandom or just based on your blog!)

mozart -> i'll give you advice or therapy on any topic!

hanako-kun -> i'll give you notes on an english / history subject (if i haven't done it in skl yet, i'll find some stuff for you!)

wish you were sober -> i'll give you an outfit from pinterest (request a theme, character, fandom or just based on your blog!)

little fox -> i'll cast you as the live action of a book character based on your vibes!

so american -> i'll guess your celebrity or book crush

grayson hawthorne -> i'll write you a drabble based on a song! (request a theme, character or fandom!)

tadano -> give me a number from 1-50 (inclusive) and i'll write a drabble based on the track it aligns with on my top tracks this month!

buldak -> i'll give you date ideas (request a theme, character, fandom or just based on your blog!)

"slut!" -> i'll answer any question you give me

please be respectful!

minimum two asks per ask (if that makes sense LMFAO)

ends june 22th! enjoy yourself <3

[adddddiiii]

hi, can i ask some more grayson x desi!reader? maybe she became a doctor and graduated from harvard to make the family proud but then married a white boy?

Doctor's Choice

Contents: Grayson Hawthorne x doctor!desi!reader

"Beta," your mother sighed, folding her arms as she stared at Grayson like he was an especially difficult puzzle. "You went to Harvard. You became a doctor. And then-" She gestured at him. "You married a trust fund boy?"

"Ma," you groaned, rubbing your temples. "He runs a philanthropic foundation-"

"A foundation with his grandfather’s money," your aunt added, whispering just loud enough to be heard.

Grayson, who had been quiet this whole time, finally spoke, his voice smooth but respectful. "Actually, ma’am, I manage multi-million-dollar initiatives for global healthcare, fund medical research, and oversee programs that support underprivileged communities. Which, if I may add, your daughter has helped shape with her expertise."

Your mother blinked. Your father looked slightly impressed.

"Show off," your cousin muttered.

Your grandmother, watching from the couch, suddenly asked, "Does he eat home-cooked food, or is he surviving on expensive salads?"

Grayson barely hesitated. "She made me rajma chawal once and I nearly proposed on the spot."

You choked on a laugh and swatted his hand under the table.

"Wait, that's kinda cute." Another muttered statement from your cousin.

Your uncle, still skeptical, cleared his throat. "Beta, do you even understand how much work she put in to become a doctor?"

Grayson turned to you with quiet confidence. "I saw her study for exams on four hours of sleep. I saw her push through hospital shifts that would break most people. I know that she worked twice as hard to prove herself in a system that doesn’t always make space for people like her." He met your father’s gaze. "And I know that no matter how much I love her, I will never deserve her. But I’ll spend the rest of my life trying."

Silence.

Then your grandmother leaned back. "Hmph. Let the boy stay."

Your mother exhaled dramatically. "Harvard doctor," she shook her head. "And yet, here we are."

You grinned, slipping your hand into Grayson’s. "Here we are, ma."

[adddddiiii]

Unexpected Encounters

Contents: Boss!Grayson Hawthorne x employee!reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, one use of y/l/n

Your first day working at Hawthorne Foundation had been nothing short of overwhelming. Between the flurry of introductions, navigating the massive building, and figuring out how to keep up with your enigmatic new boss, Grayson Hawthorne, you were utterly spent.

Grayson had been... commanding to say the least. Polished and poised, he seemed to glide through the office like he owned the very air inside it. You'd hardly gotten through your introduction before he'd handed you a file and said, "I need this checked and organised by tomorrow. Don't fail me."

The weight of his words stayed with you all day. By the time you'd left the Foundation, you decided you needed a drink — and maybe a loud, crowded space to drown out your thoughts.

Which is how you ended up at a club downtown with a couple of friends. The music was pulsing, neon lights casting shadows and colours across the packed dance floor. You were nursing a cocktail at the bar, finally starting to unwind, when you felt it: the unmistakable sensation of someone's gaze on you.

Turning slightly, your eyes locked with a pair of familiar steel-gray ones.

Grayson Hawthorne.

Your stomach dropped. What the hell was he doing here?

He was leaning casually against the bar a few feet away, dressed sharply in a black button-up and dark slacks. If he'd noticed your panic, he didn't show it. Instead, he stared at you expressionlessly, lifting his drink in a silent toast before pushing off the bar and walking toward you.

"Miss y/l/n," his was voice was smooth and low and somehow audible over the music. "I didn't expect the see you here."

You blinked. Your gripped tightened around your glass. "Mr Hawthorne," you replied, doing your best to sound composed. "I could say the same."

"Grayson," he corrected. "We're not at work now."

Outside of the sterile walls of the office, he seemed different. More relaxed, though still uptight.

"I didn't think you were the clubbing type." You raised an eyebrow at him.

His lips twitched into a slight smirk. "I could say the same."

You felt your cheeks heat. "It's been a long day. I needed a break."

"First days can be exhausting," he said, his tone lighter than expected. "But from what I saw, you handled yourself well."

The compliment caught you off guard. "Thanks."

Grayson tilted his head and studied you like you were a particularly interesting puzzle. "You're unlike most people I work with."

"How so?"

"You're not afraid to look me in the eye." He took a sip of his drink. "Most people avoid it. Intimidation, I suppose."

You let out a breathless laugh. "Believe me, you're still intimidating."

He chuckled, a low, warm sound. "Noted."

For a moment, the two of you stood there. The chaotic energy of the club continued on around you and the weight of his gaze was almost too much to bear, yet you couldn't look away.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked suddenly, his voice dropping just enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You stared at him, caught between disbelief and intrigue. "Are you serious?"

"Completely."

You hesitated for only a moment before setting your drink on the bar and taking his outstretched hand.

As he led you to the dance floor, you wondered if this night was the beginning of something you'd never see coming — and maybe something you couldn't resist.

[adddddiiii]

can you write a Grayson Hawthorne sick fic pleaseeeee

Under The Weather

Contents: sick!Grayson Hawthorne x reader

Grayson Hawthorne was not the type to get sick. At least, that’s what he told himself. He prided himself on being composed, responsible, and in control — none of which applied when he was currently curled up on his couch, wrapped in a thick blanket, feeling absolutely miserable.

You stood in the doorway of his penthouse, arms crossed, watching as he tried (and failed) to pretend he was fine. His usually sharp eyes were glassy with fever, his perfectly styled hair was a mess, and there was a half-drunk cup of tea sitting on the coffee table next to a pile of tissues.

“You look awful,” you teased, setting down the bag of groceries you brought.

Grayson let out a weak scoff. “Charming as ever.” His voice was hoarse and he barely managed to lift his head before flopping back against the couch.

You shook your head, walking over to him. “You didn’t even tell me you were sick. I had to hear it from Xander.”

Grayson groaned. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing his damp hair off his forehead. He was burning up. “You’re not a bother, Grayson. You’re my boyfriend.”

At that, his expression softened. He blinked up at you, tired but still him. “I know,” he murmured.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead—he sighed, closing his eyes at the warmth. Then you pulled away, much to his disappointment.

“Alright, I’m making you soup,” you announced and headed toward the kitchen.

“You don’t have to do that,” he rasped, though he made no effort to move.

“Too bad,” you called back. “I already bought everything. Sit there and look pretty.”

Grayson let out a breathy chuckle, but it turned into a cough. You were at his side instantly, rubbing his back until it passed. He looked at you with gratitude, and something else — something softer.

“You take such good care of me,” he mumbled, his voice quieter now.

You shrugged, trying to keep your tone light. “Someone has to. You’re the worst sick person ever.”

“I am not,” he protested weakly.

You smirked. “Really? Because I think Xander mentioned you almost passed out in the shower this morning.”

Grayson scowled. “I was fine.”

You gave him a knowing look. “Grayson.”

“…Okay, maybe I was slightly dizzy,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Exactly,” you said, brushing your fingers through his hair again. “So let me take care of you, alright?”

Grayson exhaled, his body finally relaxing as he leaned into your touch. “Alright.”

And for once, he let himself be taken care of.

[adddddiiii]

I really loved your grayson x adhd reader, so could you maybe do grayson x autistic reader? High functioning 🫶 no worries and no pressure if not

Grayson Hawthorne x autistic!reader Headcanons

Grayson quickly picks up on your routines and respects them without question. If you have a specific way of doing things — whether it's how you organize your space, the order you complete tasks, or even how you eat certain foods — he never pushes you to change

When social situations get overwhelming, Grayson is your safe space. He has an uncanny ability to sense when you're overstimulated and will either quietly remove you from the situation or create a barrier between you and the chaos

He’s suped patient when you get hyperfocused on a special interest

If certain textures, sounds, or environments bother you, he subtly adjusts things to make sure you’re comfortable

He’ll choose quieter restaurants, softer fabrics, or even carry noise-canceling earbuds for you, just in case

He never makes you feel bad about needing alone time. If you need to recharge, he gives you space while still making sure you know he’s there if you need him

If you struggle with reading social cues, Grayson is incredibly understanding. He doesn’t get frustrated if you miss sarcasm or take things literally. He just clarifies with a soft smile

He loves seeing the pure joy on your face when you're excited about something. It doesn't matter if it's a hyperfixation on a niche topic or the same comfort movie you’ve watched a hundred times

He doesn’t treat your autism like something that needs to be 'managed" or 'fixed.' To him, it’s just part of who you are, and he loves you

[adddddiiii]

hi, could i please have grayson x desi! fem! reader with prompt 5 of your 300 followers special? maybe they're in true north and she's struggling with the cold?

Warmer With You

Author's Note: thanks for requesting!! 💕 literally manifesting this weather now, it is SO hot here

Contents: Grayson Hawthorne x desi!reader

It wasn’t even supposed to be that cold.

That’s what Grayson said. That’s what all the reviews online said. That’s what the Hawthorne private pilot promised before they even touched down in Colorado.

But none of that mattered when you were curled up on the couch in True North, your hoodie pulled over your head, socks doubled up, and your entire body practically vibrating with shivers.

“I’m going to turn into a kulfi,” you muttered, nose scrunched, teeth chattering slightly as you pulled your knees up to your chest.

Grayson looked up from the fireplace he was tending. “You’re wearing three layers.”

"Not enough!”

“You’re indoors."

“I’m desi, not a snow leopard." You buried your face into the couch cushion. “This is not my weather.”

He chuckled, walking over and tossing another thick blanket in your direction.

You didn’t even look at it.

Instead, with the slow determination of someone refusing to accept defeat, you stood, dragged your frozen limbs across the room, and dropped yourself right into his lap.

“Whoa,” Grayson said, catching you instinctively.

You tucked yourself into his chest with a dramatic little sigh. “I don’t need a blanket,” you mumbled, “I have you.”

He blinked. Then smiled.

You felt his arms wrap around you, solid and warm. His laugh was low against your temple. “You’re freezing.”

“Exactly. That’s why you have to stay like this forever now.”

“You’re literally using me as a human space heater.”

You glanced up at him, eyes sleepy but teasing. “Yeah. But I’m your favorite human, right?”

Grayson looked down at you and his lips twitched. “That’s cheating.”

“Say it.”

He rolled his eyes, affectionately. “You’re my favorite human. Ever. In all temperatures.”

You grinned and tucked your head under his chin again, already feeling your shivers calm.

“Good,” you whispered. “Because I’m not moving until spring.”

[adddddiiii]

congratulations on 300 followers!!!!

can i request a grayson fic with the third prompt???

Chaos Theory

Author's Note: thanks for requesting!!

Contents: Grayson Hawthorne x reader

Grayson stepped into the study, eyebrows already raised.

The smell of something burning hit him first. Acrid, smoky, and way too close to electrical fire for comfort. Then he saw you standing on a chair, elbow-deep in the chandelier wiring, with your phone clenched between your shoulder and cheek.

“...no, I’m telling you, it's not that complicated. All I have to do is reroute the wiring to the second switch, and- wait, no, don’t put me on hold- hello?”

You let out an annoyed groan as the call dropped and tugged your hand free from the wires. There was soot on your cheek, a screwdriver behind your ear, and a look of triumph on your face despite the chaos. A few loose crystals lay on the floor below, glittering like evidence.

Grayson crossed his arms. “I don’t know if I should be impressed or concerned.”

You didn’t even flinch. “Impressed. Definitely. But if you want to be a little concerned, I won’t stop you.”

“What exactly are you doing?”

“Fixing what your fancy electrician failed to,” you said, hopping down from the chair like it wasn’t a five-foot fall and dusting off your jeans. “This chandelier’s been shorting out the whole right wing. I got tired of waiting.”

Grayson stared at you. “So your solution was to take a screwdriver and nearly set the House on fire?”

“I only almost set it on fire. That’s restraint.”

He gave you a look, equal parts fond and exasperated. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Flattery won’t get you out of helping me finish this.”

“You’re not dragging me into-”

“I’ve already decided,” you said sweetly, tugging his hand and guiding him toward the light switch. “Just hold that while I climb back up and-”

“I don’t think any part of this is safe.”

“That’s the point. Where’s the thrill without a little risk, Hawthorne?”

He muttered something under his breath but held the switch anyway, watching you ascend like this was a perfectly normal way to spend a Tuesday afternoon.

And maybe it was — with you.

You twisted around and peeked at him from over your shoulder. “Still concerned?”

His gaze lingered for a second too long. “Definitely.” But his voice was softer now.

And as you watched him standing tall, steady, with a switch in his hand and that unreadable look in his eyes — you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he saw more in you than recklessness.

Maybe concern wasn't so bad.

Especially when it came from him.