title: cuddles are better than parties
pairing: grayson hawthorne x (first person) reader
synopsis: you’re getting ready to go out with grayson but really really don’t want to go…
warnings: crying?? (help I’m so bad at warnings)
a/n: thanks for reading… this is honestly one of the most random things I’ve ever written, but I hope you enjoy nevertheless
tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @peterlcsingwendy @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @zoyaaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @f4iry-bell
I’m stood in the mirror, putting on a pair of teardrop earrings. My dress is beautiful but I’d rather not be in it right now. Actually I’d rather not be going out at all. Today had really taken it out of me, but Grayson always seemed to be in his element at these gatherings so I choose not to tell him.
“What’s the matter?” Grayson asks, walking in adjusting his tie.
“Nothing,” I reply trying to sound nonchalant so he can’t see through my mask. I turn from the mirror and gaze at him. He carries a suit well, always has. But this tailored one was really quite something.
“What’s the matter?” he repeats, face contorted with concern.
He’s noticed. Of course he’s noticed. He’s Grayson, how was he not going to notice? But I can hide it, I convince myself, I can hide it.
“Nothing,” I say again, offering him a lopsided smile to prove I was okay.
“Tell me,” Grayson says, his tone serious and almost stern, yet I can see the worry line rippling all over his face. Seemingly my smile didn’t work as well as I’d hoped.
“There’s nothing to tell,” I shrug, focussing my attention back onto the earring.
“Tell me,” he says again, his voice more urgent.
“Gray stop it!” I force a laugh.
“Tell me or I will never kiss you ever again,” he threatens.
And I know he means it. Once I had a headache and I didn’t tell him but he noticed something wasn’t quite right, so he refused to kiss me until I did. It lasted three whole days before I finally gave in. I didn’t even have the headache when I told him. Sometimes the two of us are both too stubborn for our own good.
“Will you be able to resist,” I tease, a smirk dancing on my lips.
“For as long as you don’t tell me,” he challenges, arms folded.
“But there’s nothing,” I exhale.
“You’re lying,” he states, “I can tell.”
He can always tell. Sometimes I don’t even know how.
“No I’m not,” I protest. I would not give up this easily.
“Lie number…” he pauses, “hang on I’ve lost count.”
“Gray!” I groan, throwing my head back, “it’s nothing!”
He doesn’t even bother to respond this time, just stares at me and waits. The confession is churning in my brain. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me and he knows it.
“Okay so there’s something,” I mutter, not meeting his eye.
“What is it?” he rushes, coming towards me, “what’s making you upset?”
I hesitate, the words not wanting to come out of my mouth, like it was superglued shut.
“You can tell me anything,” Grayson reassures me, touching my arm gently.
“I know,” I tell him, “I know.”
“Then why do you look scared to,” he murmurs softly, sounding almost hurt.
“Because I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” I explain, “or disappoint you.”
His eyebrows pinch together and he suddenly looks on edge.
“You’re not going to,” he says, his eyes shining.
“I beg to differ,” I scoff, looking away from him quickly.
“What’s wrong? Just tell me,” his voice is so thick with desperation it hurts me to hear, “I need to know.”
“I…” I sigh, “I just…”
I falter, getting a little shaky. I feel tears well up in my eyes and a lump forming in my throat. Why was I so upset? So anxious?
“I’m not going to get mad,” Grayson murmurs, tucking a few strands of loose hair behind my ears.
“I really don’t want to go tonight,” I say, as my bottom lip wobbles. I try and bite it to keep it still. Grayson’s face contorts into care and that’s when the tears flowing down my face, ruining the make up I’d just done, “I’m sorry I just can’t.”
“That’s fine, we’re not going,” he says immediately, putting his arms around me.
“But you wanted to go and I don’t want to ruin it,” I sob, ugly and loud, into him.
“You’re not ruining anything,” he soothes, pulling me closer into his chest.
“But-“
“No buts, it’s you first. Always. I would never make you go somewhere you didn’t want to,” he tells me, taking my hands and taking me gently over to the bed. He sits down and pulls me onto his lap. I curl up into a ball and carry on crying.
“I’m sorry,” I whimper, “I’m so so sorry.”
“Hey,” he mumbles into my hair, “stop with that.”
“But I am sorry,” I blubber, “because you wanted to go and now you’re not going because of me and-“
“I don’t care about it, love,” he tells me, so softly I want to melt into a puddle, “it was just about party that I was asked to attend but I don’t need to. I’d much rather be here with you, okay?”
“Okay,” I reply, the tears still failing to stop falling.
“And I don’t want you to feel like this,” he says gently as he rocks me in his arms, “I hate seeing you like this, it hurts me.”
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“Don’t apologise for your feelings,” he whispers to me, our noses now touching, “never apologise for your feelings. To anyone.”
“I’m sorry,” I reply, automatically. It’s like the word has been scorched into the side of my skull and it flashes up every time I feel like I’ve done something that offends someone.
“Y/N,” Grayson sighs, brushing the hair out of my face.
“Sorr-“ I begin to say, “oh…”
I trail off and fall silent, crying quietly in his arms. He never let’s go of me, never grows tired, never asks me to get off. I’m sure both his legs are numb and his arms ache but he doesn’t say a word.
After a longe while he checks in with me, quietly asking, “you okay?”
“Can we just stay like this for a little bit?” I mumble, a bit too comfortable where I am. I feel too safe and secure to move.
“Of course,” he whispers, “whatever you need.”
He holds me close and tentatively rubs up and down my arms in a soothing rhythm, occasionally kissing the top of my head or whispering something comforting to me. I close my eyes and just breathe. It’s easy to forget that the people who love you can do anything to make you feel better.
“Can I ask you one question?” Grayson asks, after I don’t even know how long we’d been there for.
“Hmm,” I hum in reply.
“Why?” he says, “why didn’t you want to go… was it the people? The venu? The dress? Me?”
“No,” I sniff, sitting up, “I just feel so drained and tired and I just want to cry and sleep and eat and I can’t think of anything worse than standing around in heels and a fancy dress talking to people I don’t even know, only to come back even more exhausted that I started and-“
I sob loudly. I don’t even know why in this emotional. Guilt just wracks me from inside out. I’m still worried I’ve ruined the night for him, that secretly he really wanted to go and now I’ve forced him to stay here. I’m just so conflicted by my feelings and thoughts, everything is an out of control whirlwind that seems to be pouring from my eyes.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispers, brushing away my tears with his thumb and pulling me close to him, “it’s okay.”
He strokes my cheek delicately as he cradles me again. I didn’t know it was possible to feel so small and helpless yet so comforted and safe at the same time.
“I’m sorry to make you upset again,” he says gently, “I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s not your fault,” I reply, now feeling even worse for making him feel guilty, “it’s just me being stupid.”
“You are not stupid,” Grayson tells me, looking straight into my eyes,
“I feel stupid,” I murmur, playing with the loose thread on his jumper to avoid eye contact.
“Trust me, you’re not stupid,” he says, “I was only asking because next time I thought I’d it was something in particular I would just turn it down before it even happened.”
My eyes snap to meet his and this time the wave of emotion that hits me is full of a euphoric sort of love.
“Oh Gray, you’re so good to me,” I exclaim, “what did I do to deserve you?”
“You deserve a lot more than me, love,” he kisses my temple, “why didn’t you tell me sooner, that you didn’t want to go?”
That had been bugging him, I could tell. He thinks I don’t tell him how I’m feeling because I’m too scared or too worried and that makes him doubt himself. If only he knew…
“I thought I’d be able to manage it, I thought I’d be fine but every second I was getting ready I was feeling worse and worse,” I explain, getting a little worked up again, “god I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, we don’t have to go, you don’t have to be sorry,” he says, “but next time just tell me okay, never be afraid to just tell me.”
“I promise,” I nod, still snivelling.
“Do you want a tissue?” Grayson asks me with a half smile.
“Yes please,” I reply, not having the energy to smile back quite yet.
He leans over and grabs the box and places it in my hands. I take a tissue and wipe my face and blow my nose, making me feeling insanely disgusting.
“I’m gross,” I groan.
“I think you’re adorable,” he counters, putting the box back away.
“Even when I look like this?” I raise my eyebrows.
“Like what?” he questions, “you’re gorgeous.”
My cheeks heat up suddenly, red creeping back into them and I smile slightly.
“I love your smile,” he says, noticing it too, “I missed it for a minute.”
I let out a small giggle before a sniff again. He kisses my forehead, then the tip of my nose and then finally ends on my lips.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he murmurs, “you’re going to get into some comfy clothes and pick out a movie, whilst I run to the store and grab some snacks. Then we’re going to cuddle until you get bored of me and want to sleep.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
a/n: when I was reading this back Grayson was giving me crazy Aaron Warner vibes I can’t lie… also I have no clue why I wrote this but it’s defos something I would do, idk if anyone else can relate but oh well
credit to @aquazero for the divider 🤍🤍
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