I couldn't think of specific scenarios but pls write anything for grayson 😭
Someone to Protect
|| Enforcer!Grayson x fem!reader
|| Warnings; Grayson before she was Sheriff, younger Grayson, bodyguard Grayson and noble reader, teasing, flirting, Grayson smitten for reader, hints at sex but nothing in detail, secret relationship, drabble, fluffy
|| Summary; Grayson catches herself distracted by reader.
Requests open!
Started; February 14th
Finished; February 14th
~~~
Someone to protect. That's all you were supposed to be, so why did she find herself sneaking off with you? Why were there stolen kisses? Grayson couldn't even remember how it all happened. She was merely assigned to be your bodyguard.
You, who was destined to be head of your family. Practically considered royalty in Piltover. Your family was well loved and respected among the people, as were you. You who was charming, polite, stunning, having such a beautiful smile that seemed to just pull Grayson in- wait. She was getting sidetracked. Watching you smile and laugh about some joke someone had made, while all she could do was stand next to you. Keeping watch, making sure you were safe. That was her job. Not... whatever it this had become.
Something about you had her in a trance, you'd managed to break past her walls and wrap her around your finger. Grayson would do anything for you.
When your friend had left, you turned to Grayson with a smile.
"Getting bored yet?" You asked.
"It's hard to be bored around you," her tone was smooth, that accent alone enough to make your knees feel like buckling. She always knew just what to say, just how to entertain you. Grayson was perfect, in your eyes; and you knew there was nothing she wouldn't do for you.
"How about we get out of here? Head to my room, have some fun?" You couldn't help but tease, fingers trailing her shoulder. Enough to make her feel a shiver down her spine.
"You know I can't say no to you," Grayson replied, following after you as you lead the way down the maze of halls. She was in for a long afternoon.
okay i get that angry gray is sexy as F U C K, but like imagine gray gets angry and makes you sad then he feels bad so you have sweet cuddly soft i love you i’m sorry sex....
Omg yes! He would feel soo bad for making you feel sad because of him. He’d be super sweet in bed with you. “I’m so sorry for making you sad baby” “I wasn’t angry at you” “I’m gonna make it up to you princess” Then you have sweet passionate sex with the occasional “I love you so much baby”
Ugh, why did you do this to me anon?? Now I’m soft for soft sweet Grayson 😩
notes: This is not really gonna be a series, so you can read this on its own, but I wanna make some sort of a feel-good-series with Grayson, so...if ya liked this make sure to check out Part I: sweet !
Ice cream isn’t a seasonal thing. No matter the temperature, weather or mood, ice cream is always a good idea. The sugary sweetness is just too good to give up on, despite the fact that with it getting colder you’re less and less motivated to exercise. Walking past Luna D’Estate every day doesn’t really help matters either.
Rico and Valeria told you they’d close the shop once it got too cold for selling ice cream, because apparently most people are of the strange opinion that ice cream is a food which should only be consumed when it’s hot enough to make them sweat. Which is completely wrong, of course, but you can see why it wouldn’t make sense for Rico and Valeria to keep their shop running with close to zero chances of profit.
Two days ago Valeria handed you three huge buckets of ice cream ‘to tide you over’, while they closed up the Luna. You’re lucky you’re living on your own because with a flatmate there’d probably have been some sort of intervention about the space ice cream is taking up in your freezer. Being on your own, however, you can hoard as much ice cream as you like, thank you very much.
You’ve created some sort of nest of blankets and pillows by your window where you spend quite a lot of your day reading, watching Netflix and ponder about life as you watch red and golden leaves fall outside your window. Also there’s usually a bowl of ice cream and/or a cup of tea somewhere within reach.
So that’s exactly what you’re doing when the doorbell rings.
You put your tea down and get up to let him in. Gray’s hair is a fluffy mess from the wind that’s run its cheeky fingers through the caramel coloured strands. His cheeks are slightly reddened, so is the tip of his nose, but his lips are as soft and giving as ever when he ducks down to you.
It’s been almost two months since that discussion about ice cream flavours. You’ve met his brother Ethan and found out that while Gray’s taste in ice cream might be questionable, it certainly is not when it comes to clothes. No matter how ridiculous you might think an item of clothing, Gray knows pretty well what looks good on him and what doesn’t.
“Is that … cinnamon?”, he asks and lifts his chin slightly, trying to detect what he’s smelling. He’s wearing a loose fitting sweater with rolled up sleeves, because they would otherwise fall over his fingers and he isn’t as big a fan of sweater paws as you are.
“Apple cinnamon”, you confirm, hooking your fingers under the hem of his sweater and feeling the soft inside, warmed up by his body heat. “It’s this new tea I found.”
Gray nods and tugs off his coat when you step back to give him space to undress. He toes off his boots and follows after you to your nest of blankets and pillows. Your laptop shows a still from the documentary you’ve just been watching and your tea is still steaming where you put it on the windowsill.
“You wanna try it?”, you offer and hold your cup out to him. He takes it and grimaces where he burns his fingertips against the hot ceramic. While he sips cautiously from the tea, you get one of Valeria’s buckets out of the freezer, spoon some ice cream into a bowl and carry it back to him with two spoons.
“Stracciatella?”, he guesses with a smirk as you sit down onto the pillows.
“It’s from the Luna”, you reply and scoot to the side so he can sit down next to you. He flinches and digs around until he pulls your old copy of ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’ out between the blankets. Oops. Gray snorts at your shrug and puts the book onto the windowsill next to your tea. “Valeria gave me some ice cream to tide me over until they open up the Luna again.”
Gray wriggles around until he has his legs on either side of you and he can pull you back against his chest, his own back to the radiator on the wall. You make sure to keep your blanket with you as you get pulled back and hit play on your laptop as soon as you’re settled. You hand Gray his spoon so he can have some of the ice cream as well and he loops one arm around your waist so his underarm is resting across your ribs and his hand is right by his knee. Warmth seeps from his big palm through the thin shirt you’re wearing into your skin, a sharp contrast to the cool sweetness of ice cream melting on your tongue.
“Why are people like this”, Grayson mumbles some twenty minutes later. He’s been rubbing his thumb in circles on your side, his head leaning on yours, and now and again his free arm sneaks around you and steals some ice cream from the bowl you’re holding. His eyes are trained onto the screen that shows an unfathomable huge blanket of human-made trash swimming on the ocean, and shows how animals get poisoned and eventually killed by it. “Why don’t people care about this sort of stuff more? At least not enough people.”
“I guess they don’t really know”, you mumble and curl a little more into him. The bowl is empty now and you set it somewhere next to you onto the floor with a soft clink. “They don’t see it, so it doesn’t feel real to them – and that’s why they don’t care.”
Gray hums into your hair and sighs. “Well, they should. Just because you don’t see something happening doesn’t mean it isn’t actually happening.”
“Maybe … “, you trail off when the movie shows a baby seal caught in some sort of plastic packaging and on the brink of exhaustion. “Some people don’t really have the time, I guess. They have other things to worry about, like feeding their family and getting their children through school. There’s probably a lot of people who can’t afford good food that doesn’t produce this much trash.”
You can almost hear him frown behind you. His grip around you tightens. “That’s shit.”
You nod and follow the veins you can see faintly under the skin on the back of his hand. He is warm, so warm around you, like some huge pillow, so familiar and comfortable – even though there’s nothing soft about his body, it still feels like you could sink right into him. Behind those pretty eyes with the long lashes and all his cheeky smiles, there is that gentle soul you’ve started falling for far too hard and far too quickly.
“The world’s unfair”, you agree with your fingertips running slowly over the bumps of his knuckles. His skin is a creamy bronze still, even though it’s almost November and the sun has been making itself rare.
“People should care more. In general and about each other”, Gray insists and when you turn your head to look at him, he has his brow furrowed and his lips are pursed unhappily. He looks genuinely bothered and you can’t help the smile that tugs on your mouth. “Don’t laugh at me, I mean it.”
“I’m not laughing at you”, you shake your head. His making-the-world-a-better-place streak is probably someday going to end in more grief than he deserves, but you wouldn’t want him any other way. “You’re right, Gray. People should be better. Should treat each other better. And the environment. And animals.”
“They’re probably angry because they don’t get to eat ice cream all day”, Gray suggests, a little smile curling his lips upwards. You angle your chin up a bit and press a kiss into the scar on his chin, beginnings of stubble prickling lightly against your lips.
“Yeah, that’s probably it”, you agree with a smile and an eye-roll and nudge your nose against his jaw when he snorts at you. “Everything should just be made out of love and friendship and cotton candy.”
You occupy yourself with drawing random patterns on the back of his hand for the rest of the movie. Before long you can feel Gray’s breaths getting longer and longer under your back. “You gonna stay over?”
“Mhm”, he grumbles affirmatively but doesn’t move. You shake your head to yourself but make no move to keep him awake. Gray’s ability to just fall asleep wherever he pleases has never failed to astonish you. He never looks younger, purer than in his sleep, too. As you’ve found out over the past months, once he’s fallen asleep there is almost no way of waking him up, so after trying different methods you gave up and now you usually draw something on him until he wakes up. One time he didn’t realize what you’d done and had walked out with a pair of badly drawn butterfly-wings around his eyes. It’d been hilarious.
When the credits are rolling, Gray’s breathing is deep and rhythmical. You turn around carefully in his arms so you can get a better look at him. It’s a slightly awkward angle because his arms are keeping you in position and your head is resting between his shoulder and neck. Hair is falling into his eyes, covering one of them, and his mouth is opened a tiny bit with his jaw slackened in sleep. You can see the spot on the hinge of his jaw where Gray forgot to shave and he needs a haircut – he is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.
Your pen is almost out of reach, but you manage to grab it after a few seconds of awkward reaching, stretching, and grabbing.
Two episodes into Modern Family Gray wakes up again and you both make your way to the bed where he won’t get a crick in his neck when he (inevitably) falls asleep again. He dozes off once more but wakes up when his stomach starts grumbling and you cook together (he’s actually not a bad cook, though he usually sticks to the stuff he knows; when you cook something he hasn’t cooked before he tries to help you as best he can and watches your moves with focused interest; it’s as adorable as it is sweet). It’s only when he goes to the bathroom when he realizes.
There’s an audible groan from the bathroom and then a chuckle. “Again? Really?”
You try to fight your smile down as you turn around to him standing in the bathroom door. He’s pulled off his sweater and jeans and is only wearing a white t-shirt and some boxers. His mouth is pulled into half a smile and he is pointing at his face where you’ve drawn smileys around his freckles.
“I think it suits you”, you try to keep a straight face.
He snorts and circles his pointing finger around his face again. “Ya think?”
You nod earnestly. “You should seriously consider turning those into tattoos.”
“Cheeky.” He barks out a laugh and then charges at you, lifts you up before you can think of an escape plan, and tackles you onto the bed where you gasp for breath as he holds you down and starts tickling you. “I’ll show you what I’ll ‘seriously consider’.”
|| Warnings; nothing but reader being cold and Grayson bringing comfort, short drabble, winter fic
|| Summary; when reader gets home with Grayson, Grayson makes sure she's well looked after.
Requests closed!
Started; November 22nd
Finished; November 23rd
~~~
The chill went straight through your body. Grayson opened the door to your home for you, giving you a soft smile as you walked past. You shivered, trying to feel the warmth of your home. Grayson closed the door behind her when she walked over to the couch. Grabbing a blanket from its surface and returning to you. You got yourself out of your winter gear, setting it aside just as Grayson placed the blanket over your shoulders. You gripped the sides and held it close. It was warm, fuzzy. Just the thing you needed.
"Thank you," you murmured to your girlfriend. She leaned down and kissed your forehead, hand resting to your cheek. You shivered at her touch and Grayson pulled back. Seeming to remember that her hands were cold.
"Sorry," the Sheriff gave you an awkward smile. You just shook your head and hugged her. Wrapping the both of you around the blanket. Her smile turned soft, Grayson's hand resting to your shoulder. Bringing you in closer while her other arm wrapped around your back. Holding you against her.
"S'okay..." You replied in a quiet tone. Grayson was known to be kind and considerate, but it's clear to anyone she was always more than that with you. You who was her rock, her force that kept her sane. She would do anything you asked of her. No matter the cost to herself. She thought about that as her gaze roamed your body. The way you trembled.
"Come." Grayson gently pulled you along, though she hardly had to. You followed her with ease. You often followed her everywhere. She brought you to the couches in the living room. Couches that sat around a fireplace. The Sheriff added some logs and paper before lighting the paper with a match she kept on the fireplace sill.
Then, Grayson walked to the couch. Holding a lit match that she used on the candles. The candles were placed on tables on either side of the couch, three per table. They didn't have to be lit. But Grayson thought that it added much to the atmosphere. She looked to you and placed a hand to your knee. Leaning forward to kiss your cheek. You leaned into her touch, relaxing at the feeling of her lips. She could bring you warmth on the coldest of days.
Her touch remained for a moment longer before Grayson moved herself away. Making you pout and whine a bit, reaching out to her and pulling her to the couch," Where are you going?"
"To get us a warm beverage." Grayson laughed at how clingy you were, appreciating the gesture. Her hand rested to your wrist of the hand that grabbed her clothing. "Darling, I'll only be a minute. Maybe three at tops."
"Fine." You grumbled, reluctantly letting her go. Grayson headed to the kitchen. Doing as she promised, making sure to only take a few minutes. It wasn't long before she returned to you with hot chocolates, yours decorated just how you liked and her own plain. Under her arm she held a book.
Grayson sat herself beside you on the couch, handing your drink to you. A low hum of thanks left your throat and you took a drink. Being careful not to burn your mouth. Grayson snuggled herself up next to you, adjusting the blanket around you both once more. Then she opened her book and began to read. She had intended on only reading to herself, but you rested your head to her shoulder. Silently reading along with her. Sitting in the comfortable silence. The only sound being that of the fireplace and the occasional turning of pages; sometimes the wind of the snow fall outside. Grayson would check to make sure you were done the page before continuing to the next. The quiet, little moments like this... where everything stood at peace. This was what love meant to you. They were your favourite moments.
