Grayson Dolan x Reader Imagines

Just A Doodle

(Y/N)'s POV:

"Hey, babe," my boyfriend greets me, leaning against my door frame. "I'm going to the gym, OK? I'll be back soon."

He strides over to where I'm situated on the bed we share, as I look up at him in his tightly fitted muscle shirt. His hand comes up to hold my chin with his thumb and index finger, lifting my head up. His soft, pink lips place a loving kiss on my forehead, before he begins to move away.

Just as he reaches the door to head back out, I suddenly call out to him. "Grayson, wait!" He whips round to face me, his brow arched. "Can I come with?"

At this, both his eyebrows shoot up in mild surprise. He opens and shuts his mouth a few times, shaking his head. "Uh–Yeah," he says. "Y-Yeah, sure. Come on, baby."

I hop off his pure white bed, making my way towards his desk where I usually keep my sketch book. Collecting it off the table, I walk to my tall boyfriend, who is simply obeserving my movements.

"OK. Let's go," I chirp, snapping him out of his gaze. He nods, taking my hand in his calloused one, and leading me out the decorated house.

Normal POV:

Once at the gym, you sit yourself down on a seat right opposite to where Grayson is preparing to work out. Sitting back against the wall, you let your eyes shamelessly admire your man throw off his muscle shirt, exposing his chiseled physique.

You find it hard to hold yourself back from jumping into his arms and kissing the living day lights out of him.

Grayson sets his bottle of water and his shirt aside, beginning to start his warm ups. Meanwhile, you flip open your sketch book, clicking the back of your mechanical pencil as you search for a blank page.

Folding the book so it's easier for you to grip, you make yourself comfortable on the seat, touching the tip of the lead to the white parchment and letting your imagination run free.

A while later, Grayson, now sweaty and hot all over, shifts his attention to you. His head tilts to the side when he sees you invested in something in your sketch book, your hand moving quickly as your brows knitted together in concentration.

He smiles to himself, observing the way you chew on your lip when you're focused, a habit of yours he has always found adorable. Walking over to you, he stops right before you, his eyebrows creasing as he leans down to see what you're so determined to finish.

Much to his surprise, he sees himself staring at him from the paper. Well, a sketch of himself.

"What's that, baby girl?" he asks, his voice coming out husky and deep.

Clearly startled, your head snaps up to meet your boyfriend's face. Your cheeks flush pink, noticing the way his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead as he tries to get a closer look at your drawing.

"U-Uh, Gray. You're done with your work out?" you stammer, trying to divert his attention. But his hazel orbs stay glued to the sketch of him.

"Yeah. Nearly done," he replies. "Now what've you drawn there?"

Your eyes wander around the floor of the gym, taking in every crack and mark on it like it's the most valuable thing you've ever seen. "I-It's just a doodle," you mumble, slightly embarassed at the fact that he caught you drawing a portrait of him shirtless.

"Doesn't look like just a doodle to me," he says, kneeling down in front of you. His eyes try to find yours. "Is that me?"

Giving in, you let him lock his gaze with yours. "Uhm...Yeah."

Now it's his turn to flush. "I'm sorry if it's weird," you quickly say. "No, no. It's actually...really cool," he assures you, placing his large hand on your thigh, gently caressing it. "I'm flattered, baby." You smile shyly, looking down at him through your thick lashes.

You watch his hand slide over to the sketch book, taking it from your grasp, and turning it the other way round to look at the masterpiece. His gorgeous hazel eyes light up, a smile splitting on his face as he scanned the portrait. "Baby, this is amazing," Grayson praises.

"Damn. My girl's an artist." He shoots you a wink, causing you to giggle. "Thanks, Gray."

"Thank you for making me look so good in this." He pulls himself onto the seat next to you, the drawing still in hand. He points his pinky finger at the sketch of him, saying, "You know...my muscles are way bulkier than that."

He casually flexes his arm, the veins in his arm bulging prominently. You laugh, shoving his shoulder slightly. "Shush, you douche bag," you say, playfully, making him chuckle.

"Hmm..." He stares at the parchment once again. "What now?" you question.

"There's just one more thing you missed, babe," he states, making you knit your brows in confusion. You lean over to look at the artwork. "What?"

Grayson cups your jaw with his hand, keeping you under his piercing gaze. His eyes flick between your own and your lips. "It's something I know that gets you whimpering for me. Or rather, under me."

Your cheeks flame up, knowing exactly what he means. "Well then maybe you should model for me," you say, willing yourself to sound confident.

The corner of his plump lips curls up in a wicked smirk. "Anything for you, my little Picasso."