hwqdbncxowasqebclo - Tumblr blog

hwqdbncxowasqebclo · 1 month ago

Text

The Small Sparks.

——————————————— A Lyrason fic. Alternate Universe where Grayson and Lyra had a chance meeting as kids. ———————————————

GRAYSON

It was officially the fifth day of the Hawthornes camping trip.

And a camping trip that was— one, filled with kids around 8-10 years old (excluding Nash, of course) and two, an extremely Hawthorne style trip— was bound to be chaotic.

“I always knew I’d be better than you at fishing!!” Jameson screamed, Grayson tried his level best to ignore him.

“Well I beat you at forest darts!!” Xander yelled triumphantly, aiming the blow at Jameson.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Xan. And for the record, I am still one win ahead of you!” Jameson retorted, looking far too smug for his own good.

Yet Grayson didn’t reply, he didn’t so much as make a peep.

And that was because he had been losing. Consistently.

As in he had a losing streak going with no wins and only losses. As a result, Grayson had been pretty upset for the majority of the trip.

He knew his silence only further gave his brothers a reason to tease him, yet he couldn’t get himself to speak.

Not only because he had been losing for five days, but because of what had come after.

Tobias Hawthorne, their grandfather, had given Grayson that look— the one with the creased brows, hardened eyes and lips drawn into a thin line.

Disappointment.

Grayson let out a shaky breathe.

“You okay, lil’ brother?” Drawled Nash, the eldest of the four.

Grayson couldn’t bring himself to say anything, so he simply nodded.

Hawthornes never show weakness. His grandfather’s words reprimanded him.

“C’mon Gray, don’t be a crybaby—” Jameson started.

“I’ll beat you tomorrow.” Grayson cut him off, the sheer determination in his tone caught everyone off guard.

Then Jameson shot him his signature devilish grin, “Bring it on, bro!!”

“Don’t count me out!” Xander yelled.

Nash rolled his eyes and finally convinced the three to get ready for bed.

The boys all had brought four tents in total, one for each brother.

They all slept in one, though.

———————————

LYRA

It was that time of year again.

Miles End, Lyra’s home, was situated nearby a forest. Usually, that wasn’t a problem.

In fact, the woods only added beauty to the entire place.

But over the summer, there was always a group of people that took to camping out there. And they tended to be loud.

Lyra, for one, hated loud noises. Especially the ones that came from the woods. She was only eight, of course it’d spook her.

The worst part, though, was that it was always some super rich family that rented out the entire area.

So if any kid ran into Lyra, they’d act all high and mighty as if they were god themselves and Lyra was some sort of sinner?

In conclusion— Lyra dreaded the woods in summer.

And this year was no better, actually, it was worse. Way worse.

For some odd reason, this year’s family wasn’t just noisy, they were deafening.

And that did not sit well with Lyra, to say the least.

Lyra layed in bed despite it being 1 pm.

As a certified eight year old who was also a ballet freak, she had danced late into the night. Just because she felt like it and couldn’t hold back the urge— the need to dance.

She finally closed her eyes, ready to give in to the tiredness.

“I’m in the lead, Xannnn~”

“Fear not brother, I shall catch up!!”

“Ha! In your dreams!!”

“Tackle Incoming!!”

“Wait what— XANDER NO—”

Lyra’s eyes cracked open at the noise, her sleepiness gone as quick as the wind.

She groaned and sat on her bed.

God forbid a girl try and get her beauty sleep.

Lyra turned her attention to the window and glared. Hard.

These rich boys were annoying as hell and Lyra had had just about enough.

She grabbed her hat and made her way out.

————————————

GRAYSON

Grayson ran like his life depended on it. He ran until his feet felt numb and his lungs burned.

He pushed. More, harder.

Todays competition is easy, you simply need to make it to the tallest tree in the center of the forest and return back to the starting. The first to arrive shall be titled winner.

Grayson repeated the instructions in his head before looking around and smiling to himself.

After a full five days and five nights, Grayson was finally in the lead. He finally had a fighting chance to win.

He felt his heart speed up with excitement, he could make it. He would make it.

And that's when Grayson felt himself tip over. His eyes widened and then he was falling— fast.

No. He thought to himself and then he collapsed onto the ground.

Grayson couldn't process what had just happened, he had been running just fine? As if on que, a sharp pain shot out from around his ankle.

He let out a tiny groan before sitting himself up, leaning heavily against a tree as he bent over and gauged his injury.

There was a huge cut that spanned around his ankle and blood was gushing out.

Need to— stop the bleeding. Grayson thought to himself, still trying to catch his breathe as he closed his eyes.

He tried to focus on the race, the injury, now. But his mind still wandered.

It wandered to all of his previous losses, it wandered to his brother's relentless teasing, it wandered to his grandfather.

Tobias Hawthorne— his disappointed gaze, his disapproving look.

What would he think if he saw you lying here? Grayson thought to himself as his vision suddenly became blurry.

What was going on?

It was only when a drop of water fell on Grayson's lap that he realized he was crying. Grayson Hawthorne— the unwavering, handsome, heir to the household— was crying.

Because, despite it all, he was only nine.

He was but a boy.

I disappointed Grandfather. I can't win with this injury. I'll lose again. His thoughts circled in his brain, over and over again.

I'm a failure.

It began to rain.

It was odd that, at times like this, Grayson's thoughts always found their way to his mother. The way she always gazed down at him with a cold gaze— as if he was an investment. Nothing more, nothing less.

Then he thought of his unknown father. The man that found his child so unimportant, so despicable, that he had never bothered to come meet him. Never bothered to so much as look at him.

A sob escaped Grayson before he could help it, he quickly covered his mouth with his small hands.

If he cried, he would be considered unworthy of being the heir. If he cried, his grandfather would hate him too, just like everyone else.

So he didn't.

The small blonde boy held in all of his pain, all of his feelings, all of his thoughts, and locked them deep within him.

"A Hawthorne doesn't break," He muttered weakly, staring at his wound which only seemed to be bleeding more now in the rain.

So why did he feel so broken?

——————————————

LYRA

"Of course it had to rain now of all times!!" Lyra screamed to... no one in particular.

She grumbled some more to herself as she walked deeper into the woods, in search of at least one of the boys who had ruined her sleep.

I will not spare them. She declared to herself, marching on further into the woods.

That's when she spotted a speck of blonde among the green of the forest.

A deer? Lyra thought to herself. That couldn't be, this blonde wasn't the same muddy shade. It was more... shiny, majestic.

She walked towards it, her curiosity getting the best of her.

When Lyra finally got close enough, she realized it was a boy. And he looked like a fallen angel.

Holy shit— who gives these people permission to look this glorious?? Lyra thought to herself, staring. Could you blame her? She was just a girl who had found something pretty.

She assessed the boy, who had his eyes closed.

Messy blonde hair, top-notch clothes and definitely not a local.

He has got to be one of them! Lyra thought to herself. It was time for her to take her revenge.

Lyra walked over to ruffle the boys hair until he woke up, but his eyes flew open first. Lyra paused.

Beautiful silver eyes— lining on blue, met her deep amber ones.

Grayson broke the silence first, "Excuse me? May I ask why you were approaching me?"

For a second Lyra didn't reply, why does he talk so formally?

"Uh- well."

How do you explain that you were trying to take revenge on somebody while they were asleep because they, too, ruined your sleep?

She let out a huff.

"I don't know, Sherlock. Maybe because I saw a limp boy lying around in the rain in the middle of a forest??" She settled for the other, more minor, reason.

Grayson stared her down for a little bit. Considering the fact that he was on the floor and Lyra was standing up, she shouldn't have felt so overpowered by that.

Lyra decided to send him an assessing gaze of her own and looked him over, that's when her eyes landed on his wound.

"Oh my— YOU'RE BLEEDING?!" She screamed, Grayson flinched at her screech as his eyes fell on his ankle.

"Oh. Right." He said simply. Lyra gave him a look.

What was wrong with this guy??

"Well, is your camp near by? I could walk you over—"

"No, thank you. I'll be fine." He cut her off.

Lyra blinked at him once. Twice.

"Alright, asshole. Here's what we're going to do." Lyra started, using the only curse word she knew at the time. Grayson sent her a glare.

"I'm going to run on home, grab the first-aid-kit, and try to save you from bleeding out. Meanwhile, you will wait for me." She finished, sending him a customized glare of her own.

Grayson held her gaze for a while before closing his eyes and leaning his head against the tree again.

Oh yeah. Definitely a rich kid.

She took off.

————————————

GRAYSON

Grayson was suddenly glad he didn't have to deal with any girls in his family. They sure were bossy. And loud. And slightly annoying.

"I'm back, asshole!!" She yelled, Grayson suppressed a groan.

Lyra rolled her eyes as she approached, a box with a red plus sign in hand, "Hello to you too."

Lyra sat down near his foot, with the rain having calmed down.

"W-wait, I can bandage myself." Grayson said, flustered at her hand around his ankle.

Lyra looked at him with a raised brow, "When was the last time a rich kid like you had to bandage themselves?"

"Yesterday, actually."

Lyra's eyes widened slightly.

"My family is quite... unique. Don't bother." Grayson said, reaching for the bandage in her hand. She whacked it away.

"Listen here, boy. You are the injured and I am the... uh, not injured. So you will let me help you." She said, an order.

If Grayson hadn't been quite so tired, he probably would have put up a bit more of a fight. He simply watched her as she took out disinfectant, her eyes were focused.

"Stop staring. I can't focus." Lyra said, breaking the silence.

"What's your name?" Grayson asked, ignoring her previous order.

She looked up at him once before her gaze returned to her work, "Lyra. Lyra Kane."

Grayson nodded, "Well, Ms. Kane. I don't have any money on me, at the moment.."

Silence.

Lyra's hand had paused and she finally met his gaze, "You... don't have any money on you?" She repeated.

Grayson nodded.

"Right. And how exactly does that matter?" She asked, raising a brow.

Grayson blinked, obviously confused, "Aren't you helping me for... the money?"

Lyra looked on at him for a few seconds before her expression broke out into one of utter disbelief, "FOR THE MONEY?? WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?!"

Grayson flinched again, "Would you- Stop yelling!!"

Lyra's expression changed in a split second. She looked amused, "Oh? So mister asshole here can yell?"

Grayson didn't deign that with a response.

Lyra continued her work, putting the disinfectant aside and picking up the bandages.

"You didn't tell me your name yet." Lyra said.

Grayson froze for a second.

"You... don't know who I am?" He asked.

Lyra huffed, her eyes remaining on her work, "Sorry bigshot, but I don't."

Grayson turned her words over in his head. She didn't know who he was. Something lightened in his heart.

"Grayson." He said, finally.

"Graysonnnnn?" Lyra pried, trying to get his last name.

"Just Grayson."

Lyra looked up at him before rolling her eyes and withdrawing her hands, "Okay asshole, all done. We can both get going now."

Grayson looked up at her as she stood up, "Thank you for the help."

"Mmm, you're welcome." She turned to leave, his gaze on her remained unwavering.

She paused mid-step and whipped her head around, "Are you just going to continue lying here?! Its still drizzling, you'll catch a cold!!"

Grayson let out a sigh, "Stop screaming."

Lyra glared at him and stomped her way back before plopping herself down next to him. They sat there in silence for a while.

Grayson wasn't sure what it was about the girl, but he felt light, unburdened. Comforted, almost. She had a terrible habit of yelling, but there was something about it that threw Grayson off.

Something about her that threw Grayson out of orbit, that made something in his nearly perfected façade crack.

✦✦✦

Five-year-old Grayson jumped into bed as Nash settled down beside it in a chair.

Grayson had finally managed to convince his eldest brother to read him a bedtime story. They did it all the time in the movies.

"Alright Gray. Quiet down." Grayson did just that, under his blankets now— his silver eyes rested on his brother.

And so Nash began to narrate.

The story was about an angel who had accidentally found herself on Earth and fell in love with the prince. It ended with the two getting married with the entirety of heaven and the Earth present.

Nash closed the story book, Grayson's eyes were small now— he was getting sleepy.

"That's it' lil' brother."

Grayson's eyes made their way to the book, "What even is an angel?" He asked.

Nash thought that over, "Well, people say they are god's helpers or somethin'." He drawled.

Grayson blinked once, seemingly deep in thought, "That... sounds like bullcrap."

Nash barked a laugh, "Y'know what? I to'tally agree."

Grayson gave him a small smile, "So what do you think they are?" He asked.

"Hmm. Well, I think that angels are the same as people." Nash started, Grayson tilted his small head to the side.

"Its just that they see the world a bit differently. They see many fruits and wanna share. They see a lonely person and they wanna give 'em company. They see an injured person and they wanna help 'em." Nash continued, walking over to the bookshelf and returning the book to its place.

"And somewhere along the way, you realize that you want that person around. No matter how annoying you might find 'em." He finished, Grayson's eyes were sparkling.

"Do you know any angels, brother?"

Nash smiled back at him, "Aren't you one, lil' brother?"

✦✦✦

The memory surfaced and Grayson thought over what his brother had said.

Does that mean she's an angel? He wondered.

———————————————

LYRA

Lyra wasn't sure why she came back, but something about leaving Grayson alone in the rain unsettled her.

"Why don't you just go back to your camp?? I'm sure your group is worried about you." Lyra said, breaking the comfortable silence.

When he didn't answer, Lyra turned her head towards him and she froze.

The look Grayson had in his eyes was distant, almost like he wasn't present within the human realm anymore. As if he was gone.

It felt familiar, somehow. She hated it.

Lyra grabbed his hand and looked away just as quickly. That shook Grayson out of his trance as he looked at her, shocked.

"Um- why are-" Grayson started

"I just felt like you needed it." She cut him off, unable to stop herself from blushing.

He went silent before turning to look at the forest again.

Lyra stared at Grayson, trying to figure out what he was so upset about that he refused to return to his family and looked so disturbed.

Grayson must have felt her gaze on him.

"I just hate losing." He said.

Lyra was absolutely floored. So this asshole had decided to sit there in the rain and worry his entire family just because he was sulking about losing??

"No. I think I hate more what comes after."

Lyra waited for him to continue.

"I mean—" he took a deep breathe.

"Losing means I disappoint my grandfather. Disappointing him proves me unworthy of being the heir. If I'm unworthy of being the heir, my mom will hate me. And honestly? If she ends up hating me too, what would even be the point of it all?" Grayson finished, by the end of it he sounded suffocated, as if he had spoken it all in one breathe.

Lyra was taken aback. How was a guy that looked just about her age going through that much already?? Her heart ached for him and she gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

"Sometimes I wonder if it'd be better to just," he paused, "to just end it all."

Lyra's eyes widened. She had no idea why she was hurting so much for a random boy she had just met, but the very idea of him "ending it all" scared her to hell and back.

Her heart throbbed again. She took a deep breathe, trying to calm herself and praying some of her calm reached out to Grayson as well.

"I get it." She said.

Grayson didn't reply.

"The very idea of something seems so terrifying, so wrong that you feel like giving up entirely."

Lyra, in fact, did not get it. Not completely, at least. But some part of her understood him, some part of her could relate— a part of Lyra that her brain had hidden away.

Silence followed as Lyra pieced together the words in her head.

"I love to dance."

Grayson shot her a questioning look.

"My body aches for it sometimes, almost like I need it. And at times like that, when I finally stop dancing, I wonder what my life would be without dance." Grayson was really looking at her now, her ears reddened at the attention.

"Whether I would consider it a life at all."

She thought over her words before continuing, "And that's when I realized its not really life itself that we live for. We don't live to wake up, study, work hard, sleep and repeat. Even though that's what most of our schedule for the day is, its not why we live."

Lyra shifted a bit, the rain had stopped and it was quite dark by now. She looked up to the starry-night sky and smiled.

"Rather, its for the little things. The people you lean on, the things you enjoy, or small moments you can't forget." Lyra thought about her family, Miles End and dance.

"It's those tiny sparks that keep us going. They aren't prominent or forever, but you remember them nonetheless."

Her eyes found their way back to the blonde boy who was sitting next to her.

"So even if you get too tired, or feel like giving out just—" She took a deep breath and her eyes softened, "just live for those small sparks, Grayson."

Grayson's eyes widened slightly, as his eyes glowed with something like realization.

Then the boy had the audacity to smile, "Thanks again, Lyra."

Lyra tried to ignore the way her heart sped up when he said her name, god am I crushing on a rick kid?

She sprang up at the thought, her hand letting go of his, "O-okay!! Time to go, asshole! Enough of being sappy—"

Grayson stared at his, now un-clasped hand, before looking back up to her.

She let out a huff, "Nice meeting you, Grayson."

Grayson smiled again, "You too, Lyra."

And she sprinted away.

————————————————

GRAYSON

Grayson stared at the back of the peculiar girl as she ran away.

Though Lyra would never know it, apart from his brothers, Lyra was the first spark Grayson's life had had in a while. He smiled at the thought.

Time to go home.

✦✦✦

Grayson tip-toed back into their camp, it was nearing 12pm, so it was safe to assume that his grandfather and brothers were all in there tents. The bodyguards had probably been dispatched to find Grayson.

He looked around and saw a tent, still alight with a lantern inside. He eavesdropped.

"Why won't the old man let us look for him too?!" Jamie.

"Yeah!! It's been six hours. Six. Entire. Hours. What if a goblin ate him?!" That was definitely Xander.

Grayson watched as a cowboy-looking shadow grabbed both of his brothers' heads and pushed them into their respective pillows.

"Go to sleep lil' brothers. You both would just end up gettin' lost anyway, I'll go look for him in a bit."

Both of the youngest grumbled, knowing fully well that disobeying Nash was a terrible idea.

That's when Grayson chose to walk in. All three of his brothers froze to stare (and glare) at him.

"GRAYSON??" Jameson shouted.

"YOU'RE BLEEDING?!" Yelled Xander, which only earned Grayson a worried look from Jameson and an angry one from Nash

I'm doomed, aren't I? Grayson thought to himself.

"Gray. We will be havin' words." The threat was aimed at Grayson, all three of the younger brothers gulped though.

There was only one way Grayson could think of to wiggle his way out of this, "Wait."

He looked up to meet his older brother's eyes, "This is a code pink."

Grayson watched as all of his brothers' jaws dropped simultaneously.

"So, th-there's a—" Xander began, hesitant.

Grayson met his gaze dead on, "There's a girl."

—————————————————————— THIS TURNED OUT TO BE WAY LONGER THAN I EXPECTED RAH- enjoyyyy :DD @lyrakanefanatic @inkstainsonmyfingertips @alwaysthefangirl @talahsaudiobooklibrary

52 notes · View notes

hwqdbncxowasqebclo · 2 months ago

Text

hehe im actually glad i got this request bc ive been wanting to write a fic like this for a while!!

4 Kisses

——————————————————

GRAYSON:

Grayson leaned over the bathroom faucet, splashing water onto his face. They were still in the break period of the game. The contestants were urged to relax.

But Grayson could in no way relax considering he had just kissed Lyra Kane.

The kiss was slow at first, her lips softer than they looked, before it became quicker with each brush of his lips on hers. And then, once it ended, Lyra had backed away, and the look on her face…

She looked like she had done something wrong. She looked regretful. And, when Grayson tried to ask her what was going on, she backed away from him.

“I can’t do this right now Grayson,” she had said. Grayson had taken her hand in his a moment before she ran off.

“Please talk to me.” he had said—no, almost begged. She looked at him, and he could tell that she was caught off guard, that she hadn’t expected to see her grief mirrored in his face so visibly. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“214-506-3301.” Was all she said. Grayson’s eyes widened once he realized the significance of those numbers. She let go of his hand gently, before backing away slowly. “Call me later. But right now… I just can’t, Grayson.”

So thats how Grayson ended up on the floor of the bathroom in his room, entering her number in his phone, labelling it “Lyra”. He knew by the words “call me later” that she wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight, either. But Grayson wouldn’t take the risk of interrupting any hopes of sleep that Lyra might have tonight, because her rest is more important that Grayson’s closure. Her health always will be.

Staring at her number in his phone while wishing for a thousand things that he knew would never come true, Grayson finally willed his fingers to slide to his messages, and type a 3 digit number into the group chat with all his brothers; 911.

When his brothers had came, Grayson looked overall normal, aside from the tips of his hair that were wet and his tie that had gone slightly undone. The pain from Lyra’s silent rejection didn’t show on Grayson’s face, and he was grateful, for once, that he had learned at a young age to hide his emotions.

But his brothers noticed every little detail.

“Something wrong, Gray?” Nash asked. His tone wasn’t gentle, but instead sturdy, like a shoulder Grayson had to lean on. Grayson was going to tell them. He was going to tell them that he and Lyra kissed, and how Lyra responded to the kiss. But then he realized that telling them her response would lead to more questions, and he would never be able to forgive himself if he told Lyra’s horrible trauma regarding her father to his brothers when the situation was so complex. He paused, and Jameson took up the opportunity to speak.

“Really Nash? Gray over here hasn’t called a 911 in 2 years and all you have to say is “something wrong?”? Here’s a real question,” Jameson said, giving him a sly smile. “are you ready for what we have planned?” Grayson narrowed his eyes at him.

“What activities can we even participate in? It’s not like we can leave the island, and it might seem a little weird to the other contestants if they see us frolicking around on the island. Besides, there’s hardly any indoor activities that would please you.” Grayson stated curtly. Jameson’s smile widened.

“Whatever you say, Gray.” Jameson said in a sing-song tone. Xander had a matching grin on his face beside Jameson, and Grayson could tell that they had planned this 911 together.

Now, all Grayson could do was fear for his dignity.

Coating one of the hallways in soap and sliding down it in a plastic shed was not something Grayson expected to do today, but then again, he didn’t expect any of the activities planned.

And, once they were done, the age old Hawthorne game called Drink or Dare commenced. And, as it seemed, Grayson was losing terribly.

“Jameson,” Grayson started in an attempt to get Jameson back for all his dares, his voice the slightest bit off as he was getting tipsier, “I dare you to call Mrs. Laughlin and pretend you’re calling Avery.” Jameson snorted.

“That’s it? Wow, you’ve lost your touch Gray.” Jamie said, pulling out his phone. But his fingers lingered as he stared at Grayson with a raised brow. Grayson wasn’t done, and Jameson knew it. Grayson smiled as he continued.

“Pretend you’re calling Avery, except pretend you’re doing something over the phone that not even myself in this state will elaborate on.” Gray continued. Xander exploded into laughter, putting his hands over his ears and muttering “ew, ew, ew”, while Nash was chuckling. Jameson laughed too, but Grayson saw how his ears turned the slightest bit red as he immediately grabbed the shot glass in front of him, spilling its contents slightly as he drank the shot. Slamming the glass down, Jameson directed his focus onto Xander.

“Xander, I dare you to coat yourself in a bottle of shaving cream and run around the island.” Jameson said. Grayson let the slightest smile out as he watched Xander jackrabbit out of the room.

“And now,” Jameson said, twirling his empty shot glass, “we wait.”

Conversation and a few easier dares started up, before out the window they saw Xander with a shaving cream hat, shaving cream face, and shaving cream all over his chest and arms running around the island like a maniac. Grayson’s smile broadened, while Jameson was dying laughing and Nash had to fist a hand in his mouth to stop himself from doing so as well. 5 minutes later, Xander came back in.

“A lot of shaving cream flew off my perfect body, but I have to say, that was fun!” Xander said with a grin as he wiped shaving cream off his face. “Well, it was fun until I slipped.” Grayson snorted. Jameson leaned back in his chair.

“I’m getting bored of this game. How about we play Hawthorne truth or dare?” Jameson asked. Grayson raised a brow in intrigue. “Truth or dare. If you can’t answer a truth or complete a dare, you take a shot.” Grayson narrowed his eyes at Jameson.

“Where did you get all this alcohol from?” Grayson asked in suspicion. Jameson smirked.

“You really thought I’d come to Hawthorne Island without alcohol?” Jameson replied. Grayson snorted. Jameson had him there.

“My turn,” Nash started, his cowboy accent thicker as a result of him getting tipsier. “Jameson, truth or dare.” Jameson smirked.

“Dare. Who do you think I am?” Jameson replied. Nash smiled.

“I dare you to babysit Hannah and Sarah once the game ends.” Nash said simply. Jameson’s jaw dropped as Xander burst out laughing. Grayson couldn’t stop his small smile from broadening either. (Authors Note: i know nash’s kids probably weren’t even conceived yet, but for the sake of this fic, let’s pretend that they were, and that they’re about a couple months old or something)

“Are you serious? You can’t use dares to rope us into babysitting your kids!” Jameson exclaimed, while Nash, Xander, and even Grayson himself were laughing. But then Jameson rolled his eyes.

“But of course I will, I love those two.” Jameson said begrudgingly. Nash smirked.

“You better.” Nash told him. His tone wasn’t dangerous, but we weren’t stupid. Xander redirected his focus from Nash to Grayson. So far, Xander hadn’t taken a single shot, mainly because his hatred for shots had fuelled his dare abilities.

“Grayson, truth or dare!” Xander bellowed. Grayson raised a brow at him.

“Truth.” Grayson answered, after a moment’s consideration. Xander grinning cheekily.

“Where were you…” Xander started, his grin stretched across his face. “a couple of hours ago?” Grayson froze, but only for the slightest moment.

A couple of hours ago, he had been with Lyra. He had been kissing her, and for once, nothing felt wrong.

But for Lyra, he could tell that everything was wrong.

Grayson couldn’t tell his brothers the truth, that they had been kissing a couple of hours ago, because he couldn’t risk letting any information go about her running off. They would sniff a story out immediately, and Lyra’s father’s situation was not his story to tell.

He’d never forgive himself if he compromised any information about Lyra’s father to his brothers without Lyra’s okay.

Grayson spoke to stop the pain in his chest before it started.

“What do you mean?” Grayson asked, tip-toeing around the question. Jameson butted in.

“Where were you a couple of hours ago? It’s a pretty straightforward question.” Jameson prodded, a sly smile on his face and intrigue clear in his expressions. Grayson kept a straight face.

“I was walking around the island. I couldn’t sleep.” He said. Technically, Grayson wasn’t lying. He was walking around the island. He couldn’t sleep.

However, his reasons behind being wide awake, thinking, and walking around the island weren’t for personal purposes. They were for a certain tanned ballerina, who had been plaguing his mind for hours.

So… it technically wasn’t a lie.

Jameson opened his mouth, and Grayson could tell he was about to accuse him of lying, when Grayson received a phone call. He jolted upwards, thinking it would be Lyra, before checking his phone and not seeing her name on the screen, but an unknown number. With a raised brow and slightly deflated manner, Grayson stood up.

“Excuse me for one moment,” Grayson said, leaving the room before answering the call.

“Hello?” he said. There was silence. Grayson’s brow furrowed.

“Who is this?” he asked, to apparently nobody. The silence drew on for a few moments more, before the person on the other end of the phone hung up. Weird.

Grayson put his phone away with a sigh, before walking back into the room.

“Who was it?” Jameson asked, his expression full of intrigue as he wore a sly smile. Graysons brows furrowed.

“I don’t know. The person on the other end of the line didn’t say a word before hanging up.” Grayson said, his brain working through who it could be as he placed his phone face-up on the table. A person who got the wrong number?

“Maybe it’s a prank caller?” Xander offered. Grayson entertained the idea in his head, but seriously doubted it. Nash looked elsewhere as he spoke.

“Maybe it’s Eve.” Nash said. Grayson’s head whipped to his. He was about to speak, when Nash interrupted.

“We know she tried contacting you 2 years back. Is this why you called the 911? Has she been contacting you, and if so, have you been contacting her back?” Nash asked, his gaze steady as he looked at Grayson. Grayson was deeply disturbed. He really did not want to think that it was Eve who called him, and he didn’t want his brothers to think he was calling Eve.

“No. That time 2 years ago was the last. And why would I be trying to make contact with her?” Grayson demanded. Nash gave a half shrug.

“Say what you want, but you don’t have the best track record of resisting against that girl.” Nash said simply, fiddling with his shot glass. Grayson’s head started to hurt, and he wished suddenly that he’d went a bit easier on the shots. His drunk self remembered then that he was supposed to defend himself and rebuke against everything Nash was saying, when Jameson stood.

“Relax, Nash. Whatever Gray and Eve were is over. Besides, just because he gave her a few kisses doesn’t mean the two are linked for life.” Jameson said, his tone unsurprisingly teasing. Grayson frowned as he began cleaning up the empty bottles of alcohol on the table.

“Me and Eve didn’t kiss, but thank you Jamie.” Grayson said, his tone sarcastic, even though he did appreciate the sentiment. Xander laughed.

“Do you need some more kisses, Gray-Bear?” Xander asked him in a baby voice. Nash snorted and Jameson laughed, but Grayson just looked unimpressed as he started putting away empty alcohol bottles.

“Believe it or not, but 4 is good enough for me, Alexander.” Grayson deadpanned, turning around. Grayson didn’t know what it was, but in that moment, it was like all the air got sucked out of the room. Grayson was about to question it as his back was turned to his brothers, before Jameson spoke.

“4, you say?” Jameson pried. But there was something under the innocent curiosity, something that wasn’t so innocent and seemed…. slyer. Grayson frowned. He continued putting the empty bottles in a trash bag they’d brought in case.

“Yes, 4.” Grayson insisted. Maybe it was just his tipsy brain thinking, but something was definitely off. Then Jameson spoke, and Grayson realized what it was.

“Who’s the 4th?” Jameson pried. Grayson froze, but it was so quick that he swore nobody saw. He knew where he’d slipped up; he just had to make sure his brothers didn’t know.

“Hm?” Grayson asked, feigning nonchalance as he tried to downplay it all. Unluckily for him, it didn’t work.

“You said you didn’t kiss Eve, and then proceeded to say you kissed 4 people,” Jameson elaborated, and, when Grayson turned around, he realized Jameson was speaking the words with a great big grin on his face, like he’d discovered something. “There’s Emily, then Avery, then that chick from Harvard, and there would’ve been Eve too, but you didn’t kiss Eve. So who’s the 4th?” Grayson pretended like he’d just remembered something.

“Oh, I must have misspoke then. 3, I mean to say.” Grayson said, nodding as if this were true. But he knew who the 4th person he’d kissed was, and he knew that when he’d accidentally admitted he’d kissed 4 people, his mind was on Lyra.

All his brothers were staring at Grayson with wide smiles on their face that matched their wide eyes. Look at you, Grayson’s mind said in deadpan, you didn’t even have to tell them you kissed Lyra; they already know due to your idiocy.

“What?” Grayson asked, his tone clearly annoyed as his brothers just stared at him. Their smiles only grew.

“You’re lying.” Nash said simply, the words sounding less like an accusation and more like a simple fact. Grayson was going to rebuke his statement… but he couldn’t. Either way, they would know he was lying, and either way, he wanted to tell his brothers about the kiss. It was why he’d called the 911 in the first place.

And that feeling she gave him when she had kissed him—that would never leave him. He would be content to feel that way forever.

Grayson sighed, pulling a chair out from the table they were all sitting around and plopping down in it. He wouldn’t normally be so graceless, but he was drunk, and a part of him couldn’t forget how Lyra had ran away from him after the kiss.

“Who was it?” Jameson sounded like he was about to implode. Grayson looked up at Jameson, and he could feel a lie brewing—“I didn’t want you to judge me for kissing Eve”, just so that he wouldn’t betray any information that Lyra wouldn’t want him to, when his phone, flat on the table, rang.

Grayson couldn’t explain the mixed up excited-yet-horrified feeling he got when he looked down at his phone at the same time as his brothers and saw “Lyra” as the caller.

He saw the exact moment where emotions and different reactions were about to ring out from across the room, when Grayson jumped to his feet, holding a hand out to them.

“You will not act different towards her,” he immediately ordered, picking up his phone. “You won’t give her weird stares every time you see her, you won’t mention anything about this or the two of us to her, and under no circumstances will you make a joke about in-laws. That goes for you the most, Jameson.” Jameson was grinning so widely, and his eyes were gleaming so brightly, that for a second Grayson wondered if he was the one who got kissed.

“Alright, lovebird!” Jameson called out to Grayson as he stumbled out of the room, hooting.

As soon as Grayson closed the door behind him, the room erupted into conversation, laughter…. and cheers? Grayson shook his head before answering the call.

“Lyra.” He said, as soon as he placed the phone to his ear. His heart drummed with the excitement of waiting to hear her voice. And, once it came, his heart began to drum a quicker beat.

“Hello to you too.” Lyra replied. Grayson knew she would make a mockery of the fact that he hadn’t said hello; he wondered then if he was beginning to do things like that on purpose, just to get a reaction out of her. God knows he liked it. There was silence, before she spoke again.

“Hey, I just wanted to say….” her voice trailed off, the words seemingly stuck in her throat.

“It’s okay.” Grayson said. When he didn’t get a response, he spoke again.

“Lyra. It’s okay.” He repeated, squeezing his eyes shut and waiting for her to believe him. She sighed.

“You know…. it’s weird how we always end up on the phone.” she finally said, after moments of silence. Grayson smiled.

“Getting deja vu?” he asked. His words jumbled in his mouth, the effects of alcohol getting to him more than he thought it would.

“Are you drunk?” Lyra blatantly asked, not bothering to beat around the bush. Grayson sighed.

“No. Maybe. I’m not quite sure.” he said. Lyra snorted.

“So you are. Well, I should be going then. You need to rest.” she said. Grayson frowned.

“No I don’t.”

“Yes you do.”

“I don’t.”

“Grayson, please-“

“Maybe I do. But don’t hang up. Please.” his voice teetered on a desperate edge, and he could just barely hear her sharp intake of breath. A few moments of silence passed, before Lyra spoke.

“Okay. I won’t.” she finally said. There was a pause, before she spoke again. “Though I am quite curious, Hawthorne, as to why you’re drunk.” Grayson laughed. He laughed and laughed because Lyra could never know that she was the reason as to why he was drunk.

“What’s so funny?” she said. Grayson could imagine Lyra’s face as she spoke, that smile of hers on it, the one that she never noticed; however, it didn’t matter if she noticed it or not, because Grayson did. Every time.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” Grayson said once he’d stopped laughing. Lyra made a hm sound as if she had suspicions about that, but moved on.

“I’ve been wondering what the next stage of the game will look like.” she said. “I know for sure that it won’t be so much of a “team effort” as it was previously, but there’s still plenty left unknown about it.” Grayson mulled it over.

“There is definitely more than an air of mystery around it.” Grayson agreed. Then his mind went elsewhere. “It will feel odd, going into the next stage of the game without Odette there.”

“I know. I can’t believe she gave her place in the game to him.” Lyra said. Grayson knew which him she was talking about: Brady Daniels. And then he felt a smile touch his lips once he realized he spoke her words with disdain. Leave it to Lyra to dislike someone she doesn’t know.

“He’s a stranger, Lyra. Besides, if Odette gave him her place in the game, it’s probably for good reason.” he said. Grayson could practically see her opening her mouth to rebuke his statement, so he butted in. “Does Odette really strike you as the kind of woman that doesn’t know what she’s doing?” That made her pause.

“No.” she finally grumbled. Grayson was surprised she’d agreed; Lyra was the kind of girl who fought tooth and nail to be right, and Grayson didn’t mind that one bit. He smiled.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “but did the Lyra Catalina Kane just agree to something I said?”

“Maybe that’s just your drunk mind talking. You’ve just barely stopped slurring your words, by the way.” Lyra told him. Grayson snorted.

“That response seems fabricated.” Grayson pointed out.

“Name 3 fabrics.” she said, with more than just a hint of sarcasm in her deadpan voice. Grayson couldn’t stop a laugh from leaving his mouth then. Lyra was truly getting back at him for his “did you just agree with me?” jab. Lyra let out the smallest laugh at her own joke.

“Okay. You should be getting some rest.” she told him. Grayson could feel his shoulders slumping once he realized their conversation was coming to an end.

“I don’t need rest.” Grayson said, resisting letting the phone call end.

“You’re not a superhero, Hawthorne. You need rest.” she retorted. Grayson sighed.

“I’m fine.” he rebuked.

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

“Wow, you really don’t like admitting you’re tired, drunk, and in desperate need of rest, do you?” Grayson could feel his filter leaving him as his drunk mind spoke truths without a second thought.

“If I rest, you’ll hang up.” he stated simply. He heard Lyra’s sharp intake of breath, this time more like a vague gasp.

“And? Is that so bad?” Lyra finally asked. The more logical part of Grayson cursed himself for being so forward, whereas the sleep deprived, drunk, and aching for Lyra part of Grayson spoke up again, needing her to hear his words.

“Yes.” He slurred, rubbing his eyes tiredly. There was a pause on Lyra’s end.

“Really?” she asked. Grayson sighed.

“Mhm.” he replied in a low voice. There was silence for more than a few moments on Lyra’s end. Then, at last, she spoke.

“We don’t know what time the game will be starting tomorrow. You do need to get some rest, Grayson.” Lyra repeated. Grayson found he became even more stubborn whenever he was drunk.

“No.” he said. Grayson heard a “hmph” on Lyra’s end.

“Fine.” she said. Grayson realized, with a jolt, that the voice was clearer, like she was closer to him.

Then, when Grayson turned, he realized she was walking down the hallway. Each step was a graceful stride, and Grayson wondered how long he could stand frozen like how he was then, watching each of her movements. Maybe everybody else was also fascinated by how she moved.

Or maybe Grayson was the only one who just liked watching her move.

Finally she came to a stop in front of him. She raised a brow at him. Lyra had changed into comfy attire, with her hair loose and strands beginning to fall into her face. The look on her face said “what now, Grayson?”. Grayson stared back.

“I’m guessing you’re here to force me to rest?” Grayson tried. Lyra snorted.

“Good guess.” she said, patting his arm and holding onto it. Grayson took a step—and stumbled. Lyra looked up at him bewilderedly. He gave her a confused look.

“Okay, seems we have to do this a different way.” she huffed, blowing a strand of hair. Holding onto his arm, the warmth of her hands spreading onto it even through the dress shirt, Lyra pulled one of his arms over her shoulders. She held onto the wrist dangling off her shoulders, her touch gentle yet firm, and began to walk.

“Don’t fall.” she warned. Grayson smiled.

“I won’t.” he replied. It was a short walk to Grayson’s room, with Grayson telling Lyra where to go, and Lyra not letting him fall. Finally they reached the door to his room. Lyra hesitated at the door for a moment, before latching onto the doorknob, giving it a twist, and opening the door. She pulled Grayson inside, brought him towards his bed, and then pushed him onto it. Grayson smiled a smile he’d learned from Jameson, pushing himself up on the bed with his back pressed against the headboard. He stared at her with half-lidded eyes, and after a moment, Lyra’s eyes moved to the floor.

“Well, I should be leaving now.” Lyra said, breaking the moment. Grayson frowned. He was about to say something, anything, to make her stay, when Lyra saw something on the ground and froze. Grayson’s eyebrows furrowed. She knelt down to pick something up, and when she straightened up again, Grayson saw her holding a sheet of paper.

“This was sticking out of your suit jacket pocket.” she said, staring at it with surprise etched into her features. Lyra didn’t have to say what she was looking at, because all of a sudden Grayson remembered the drawing.

The one he had drawn a mere couple of hours ago. The one of her.

Maybe he was supposed to be embarrassed that he had kept the drawing. But his head was starting to pound, and he couldn’t find the effort in him to be embarrassed.

“I must say, I captured you pretty well.” he admitted. Lyra gave him a look, but it was half-hearted. Her eyes strayed back to the drawing.

“You made me look beautiful.” she said in a whispered tone. Then she must have caught herself, and Grayson wondered if Lyra had said those words because she thought he wouldn’t remember them the next day. Grayson stared at her.

“I didn’t make you look beautiful, Lyra.” Grayson said. He didn’t have to finish his sentence for Lyra to know what he meant.

He didn’t make her look beautiful. He just captured her. She was beautiful to begin with.

She finally looked up from the drawing, staring at him with slightly open lips, her amber eyes wider than usual. Then she must have realized she looked so shocked because her facial expressions became more neutral, and she looked down.

But Grayson still saw that look on her face. The complex one, the one with a million different emotions on it.

She always wore that one around him.

“I should be going.” she repeated, this time with more certainty as her eyes squeezed shut. Grayson frowned.

“Come here.” he said. Lyra’s eyes opened, staring at him, and she hesitated before walking over to him. He stared at her as she came closer. Once she reached his bedside, Grayson felt possessed by a more fearless spirit.

Or maybe that was just what being in Lyra’s proximity did to him.

Taking her hand in his, Grayson brought her hand to his lips, giving her knuckles a soft kiss as he held her gaze. Her neck tinged pink, her lips parting slightly in shock.

“Thank you.” He said in a quiet tone. For taking care of me, he finished in his head. Lyra was silent at first, before answering.

“You’re welcome, Gray.” The words rolled off his tongue so quickly that Grayson thought he misheard her. Gray. He squeezed his eyes shut, dropping her hand softly as his head leaned back to hit his headboard. Gray. Gray. Gray. He peeled his eyes open to see her staring at him.

“Goodnight.” she whispered. He gave her hand a squeeze.

“Goodnight.” he replied, his tone low and slightly hoarse. She smiled slyly, before walking towards the door, each movement fluid and graceful. She paused at the door to give him one last look, her eyes holding his in a dance of ice blue and amber gold, before she finally stepped out.

Grayson slumped in his bed. He realized then that he had forgotten all about his brothers once Lyra called.

He also realized then that it was worth it, because even with a pounding headache and eyes that were beginning to slide closed, he had never felt more at peace then he previously did at that moment.

In his room.

With Lyra Catalina Kane by his side.

————————————————————————

im sorry the plot changed every 3 lines but i hope you enjoyed it!! 😬😬💗

110 notes · View notes

hwqdbncxowasqebclo · 2 months ago

Text

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ - salut mon amours!

“get over here.”

in one swift movement, your fist wraps around the fabric of grayson’s shirt, tugging him back against you alongside his mouth.

your grasp loosens on his top and you use your now unoccupied arms to slide around his shoulders. grayson steadies you with two solid hands to your hips, while he makes his best attempt to once again depart his lips from yours.

he’s lucky since your hold on him isn’t anything but light. you frown at his departure. though in return, he kisses your nose as you scrunch it.

“you can’t keep me here all day.”

“yes I can! you can be my prisoner. I’ll even let you open the window occasionally if you’re good.” you nod enthusiastically with a bright grin.

grayson looks at you like you’ve grown extra heads. “no.”

“what if I gate off an area in the field and I let you get yard time?”

“sweetheart—”

“and you can sleep in my cozy bed and I’ll light my scented candle and let you watch my television…”

“(name).”

“… but I won’t put handcuffs on you because I think you’re pretty well behaved. you never know, though. were you a disobedient child? I’ll ask nash later…”

“(name).”

“… and I won’t put you in an orange jumpsuit either, I don’t think orange is your color, no offense. maybe blue, though, that would bring out your eyes…” you touch your index just below his right eye. “and what are your opinions on eating in bed? do you think it’s unsanitary or do you think— mphm…”

your ramble is cut off by grayson’s mouth to yours. fucking finally. you suppress a smile, too utterly happy to break the kiss you’d yearned for.

he’d been attempting to leave for fifteen minutes, most likely already late to whatever bullshit he had planned— though in your defense love prevails all.

and apparently so does grayson hawthorne’s need for oxygen as he pulls back. you’d frown but he looks very handsome and it’s difficult to keep an upset face.

you cup his cheeks between your palms. “you’re free. bail’s been made.”

“I’m also…” grayson brings his wrist to his gaze to check the time on his wristwatch. “twenty minutes late.”

“better late than nothing!”

his brows furrow. “that’s what you said when your menstruation was two weeks late.”

“but!— I still got it, didn’t I? do you see a baby anywhere here?” you extend your arm to the expanse of the room.

“no. but that didn’t exempt me of a heart attack.”

you huff and unravel yourself from his arms. “goodbye, grayson hawthorne.”

“this is ludicrous. you begged me to stay like a whining toddler and now you’re sending me away like a husband to war.”

“you have a meeting to get to, yes? and if you’re a good prisoner and listen to me, I’ll offer you yard time this afternoon.”

“I don’t want yard time.”

you huff and peck each of his cheeks, ushering him out the bedroom door. “goodbye, grayson hawthorne!”

175 notes · View notes

hwqdbncxowasqebclo · 3 months ago

Text

After reading that little snippet, I realized something, the kiss between Grayson and Lyra wasn't just random. It happened for a reason. Grayson wasn't out of character he was just losing control. And to understand why, we only need to look at his relationship with his sisters.

Grayson and Lyra's relationship isn't a slow burn because Lyra, much like his sister Gigi, is deeply emotional, unpredictable, and impossible for him to control. Grayson has always struggled to form bonds with people who, like Savannah and Avery, are logical, strategic, and calculated, relationships with them take time because they operate on the same wavelength both cautious and resistant to vulnerability. However, when it comes to people like Gigi and Lyra, who are purely emotional, impulsive, and unapologetically expressive, Grayson finds himself overwhelmed, unable to keep his usual tight grip on his emotions. With Lyra, emotions hit him all at once raw and unfiltered forcing him into a connection he didn't prepare for. Unlike with Avery, where the push and pull dynamic allowed for slow trust building, his relationship with Lyra explodes into passion and intensity because she bypasses his logic entirely, drawing him into something uncontrollable.

That's why the kiss wasn't just a moment of passion it was a breaking point, proof that despite everything, he could no longer suppress what she made him feel. Grayson wasn't out of character; he was simply losing the battle he always fights to stay in control. Because in the end, Grayson relies on logic but struggles with emotions, while Lyra is driven by emotions but struggles with control. In short, Grayson’s weakness is Lyra’s strength, and Lyra’s weakness is Grayson’s strength.

In your honor @lyrakanefanatic (next time I will attack you with squirrel 🐿️)

#you either comprehend it like a fine tuned cambridge scholar or you’re lost in the intellectual abyss like a half baked scone #please do not summon the queen’s guards i was merely jesting!#the inheritance games #the grandest game #grayson hawthorne #avery grambs #lyra kane #gigi grayson #the brothers hawthorne #savannah grayson

265 notes · View notes

hwqdbncxowasqebclo · 3 months ago

Text

Old Wounds Uncovered

A story. Truths are told, tears are spilled and best friends are found. Relationships: Grayson x Lyra, Lyra and Jameson (platonic)

Post- The Grandest Game

—————————————

Lyra wasn’t the angsty type, nor was she the kind of person to cry over someone else’s trauma.

Yet, somehow, none of that seemed to hold true when it came to her boyfriend.

Grayson Davenport Hawthorne. Her Hawthorne.

Lyra took a deep breath as she stared up at the full moon from her spot on the roof of the Hawthorne house. It was all she could do at that moment, to try and seize the tears from spilling out.

Her thoughts began to drift back to the conversation she’d had with Grayson.

———————————

Lyra ran her hand through Grayson’s hair while her other hand was occupied with holding the book she was invested in.

After a few minutes of silence, Lyra looked up from her book towards Grayson, expecting him to be asleep since he hadn’t made so much as a peep in a while.

So she was surprised when she saw Grayson staring at… nothing in particular, seemingly deep in thought, but that wasn’t the surprising part.

The surprising part was that Grayson looked vulnerable, troubled, almost…hurt.

Lyra stared at him as her attention focused solely on her boyfriend. This was, in fact, not the first time this had happened.

Grayson, just like Lyra herself, had his fair share of trauma. The only difference was that, while she had shared all her worries and troubles with him, Grayson didn’t say much about his own.

Lyra stared on at him as she fought an internal battle of her own, a part of her believed that when Grayson wanted to open up, he would. Lyra should give him some space. But another part of Lyra, the more prominent one, begged for her to ask. To just give him a little push. To let him know that she was here and waiting to listen. To understand.

She hesitated for a moment before deciding that she wouldn’t pry, just ask. If he wanted to tell her, he would.

“Gray?” She asked softly. Grayson visibly flinched, being snapped away from his thoughts all of a sudden.

Grayson looked up at her, “Yeah?” He asked.

If anyone else were to look at him now, they wouldn’t see a single thing out of place. He looked normal. Untouchable. Like Grayson Hawthorne.

Yet Lyra didn’t know just Grayson Hawthorne, she knew Grayson. Gray. Her asshole. She saw the way his eyebrows looked slightly furrowed, the few droplets of sweat that were threatening to make their way down his forehead, the way his eyes looked glassier than usual.

Lyra took a moment to assess his state as they sat their in silence.

“You can tell me.” She said, finally, praying the words didn’t sound too pushy.

Grayson continued staring up at her as she saw his eyes visibly soften. “Alright.” He answered after a beat of silence.

“Alright.” Lyra had replied.

And so he started. From the beginning.

Lyra’s breath caught in her throat as she thought about Grayson’s past.

About the boy who was never shown motherly affection. The boy who was raised to be the heir apparent and never given a true opportunity to enjoy his childhood. The boy who fell in love with a manipulative bitch and lost his brother as a result. The boy who had his, supposed, life purpose snatched away from him within a day and given to a random girl.

The boy who fell in love again but let go for his brother. The boy who found out about his father after years only to realise that he never truly cared. The boy who became a puppet for a seemingly innocent girl. The boy who suffered alone for so long that he forgot what it was like to open up.

The boy who had is childhood snatched away from him, had his heart crushed and handed to him, had to play the puppet for years, had to suffer alone.

Who never truly got to be a boy.

Lyra felt a tear trail down her cheek as her heart ached impossibly more for the boy she was never able to meet. For the boy she could no longer help no matter how much she wanted to. For the boy who had blossomed into a man despite the suffering he went through.

She let out a sob as a word drifted to her, undeserving.

How could she even be deemed deserving of him?

Lyra had been traumatised by the memory of her father. She had wanted to find out the truth, she had wanted to be at peace.

Grayson gave her all of that and so much more.

Grayson had found her, reached out again, helped her, laughed with her, helped her rekindle her love for dance, made her happy again, made her whole again.

Yet, what had she done for him? What could she do for him? Nothing. She was undeserving.

She let out a cold chuckle knowing fully well how upset Grayson would be to hear that mental declaration, no matter how true it seemed.

Lyra was planning to get up when she heard footsteps from behind her. She whipped her head around to see Jameson Winchester Hawthorne standing behind her, wearing an intrigued expression.

She turned her head back to the moon and held back the urge to roll her eyes.

In the few months Lyra had gotten to know the Hawthornes, she had formed a… unique dynamic with Jameson.

He was a wicked-dumbass and egoist in the making while she was sassy, quick-witted and… petty sensible. So, obviously, they exchanged blows every chance they got.

“Weird seeing you here?” Jameson made that statement a question.

Lyra let out a, very pointed, huff, “I could ask you the same thing, dumbass.” She said and nearly winced at how broken her voice sounded to her own ears.

Lyra felt Jameson go still behind her before he walked on over and plopped himself down right next to her.

“Well, I’m sorry to inform you that the rooftop of this household has been my go to place since like— the beginning of time.” He said, adding a big show of his hands to support his statement.

This time, Lyra did roll her eyes, “This household hasn’t existed since the beginning of time.”

“Well, it has since the beginning of my time.” He said and Lyra suddenly felt the urge to smack him square in the face. Then again, that wasn’t particularly rare around Jameson.

“Jameson, it’s seriously not the time.” She said, putting her hands to her face as she fought her tears back. Crying in front of people would never not be embarrassing.

Lyra could feel Jameson’s assessing gaze on her, though it felt like he was staring directly into her soul. Hawthornes had a way of doing that.

“Alright then, why don’t you run it by me?” He said, finally, breaking the silence.

Lyra looked back up at him and blinked, “Run what by you?”

This time it was Jameson’s turn to roll his eyes, “What’s bothering you, moron. Obviously.”

Lyra blinked again. And then another time.

Jameson was asking her what was bothering her. Jameson. Jameson Winchester Hawthorne.

The same Jameson Winchester Hawthorne who couldn’t be bothered with ‘emotions’ or ‘sentiments’ for the life of him. That much, she had figured out by now,

Lyra stared on at the maniac and her expression must have given away something because Jameson looked at her and let out a scoff.

“Cmon. I’m not that bad. Why does everyone do this when ever I ask what’s wrong???” He asked, and the worst part was, he looked genuinely confused.

“I don’t know? Maybe because you are exactly that bad??” She replied, the disbelief still evident in her tone.

Jameson sent her a glare with no real heat behind it before looking back to the moon, “I guess Heiress makes me want to try.” He said and, for a moment, Jameson looked loveable. (A/N: ITS SUPPOSED TO BE A JOKE. PLS. ITS IN LYRA’S POV KINDA— BEAR WITH ME.)

Lyra gave him a small smile, she knew that feeling. It was something that came with falling in love. You know you aren’t the best person, but they make you want to try to be better. For them.

For him. She thought.

They sat their in silence with nothing but the moon to keep them company.

“He suffered.” She managed. Lyra felt the change in Jameson’s demeanour.

“I mean— it’s no surprise,” she let out a small laugh with no heart to it, “to make a man like him. It’s obvious he had suffered but—”

She took a deep breath, calming her feelings, “I just didn’t expect that. He didn’t deserve it.” She stopped, knowing fully well that the unspoken words would be heard by Jameson.

He was Grayson’s brother, after all.

Lyra glanced over at Jameson when he didn’t say anything for a few beats. His eyes looked distant, regretful-almost.

“He didn’t,” He said, finally, “deserve it, I mean.” Jameson lowered his gaze to the ground underneath them, seemingly deep in thought.

“He’s been through a lot. I don’t know just how much he told you—” he took a breath, “but— he’s lived through a lot.”

It was obvious at this point that both of them didn’t hold an expertise at speaking their mind or feelings.

“Before her.” Jameson started again. Lyra took in a sharp breath. Her. Emily.

“Grayson and I were— close,” he made a few incomprehensible noises, “I mean— we were closer than we are now.” He explained.

Lyra’s gaze locked onto his face, his eyes had taken on a more distant look, like he wasn’t sitting here but somewhere else. Somewhere further away, somewhere out of reach.

“We still bickered a lot. Hell, I think we fought more back then but,” He took a moment to think about it and Lyra’s gaze softened, thinking about the two brothers together. Happy. Content.

“There was some unspoken trust. I could talk to him, he could talk to me. Anytime, anywhere. Brothers first and everything else second.” He finished and a small smile enraptured his expression.

“We always had trusted each other. We still do. It’s just— somewhere along the way, we lost the talking factor.” Jameson said and Lyra saw his eyes darken.

A moment of silence passed between them, “After Emily?” Lyra asked finally, already knowing the answer at some level.

Jameson closed his eyes, “After Emily.” He confirmed.

Lyra felt her blood boil thinking about the 15 year old girl. Who would have thought that such a young girl with a heart disorder could disassemble such a strong relationship. Knowingly, at that.

Lyra hadn’t felt this level of anger in a while.

She didn’t realise how silent she had been until she felt Jameson’s gaze on her. He was looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you mad?” He asked, and she swore she could hear a tinge of amusement in his voice.

Lyra rolled her eyes, “Absolutely not, Sherlock. I’m so fucking satisfied that some little bitch with a weak heart and, obviously a mental issue, managed to cause you both so much trauma.” She finished with a huff.

Jameson let out a laugh, “You really suit Grayson.”

A small smile creeped its way onto Lyra’s face as she rolled her eyes again.

A pregnant pause followed.

“He deserves the world.” Lyra said, unable to help herself. Because he did. He deserved that and so much more, and she could never possibly be that, no matter how much she wanted to.

Jameson looked her up and down with a peculiar gaze.

“He does,” he, surprisingly, agreed. A pause followed, when suddenly he shuffled back up to his feet.

“And you are just that.” He finished.

Lyra’s eyes widened to amounts that shouldn’t even be considered humanly possible as she whipped her head up to look at him, the shock obvious on her face.

Jameson looked down at her and let out a huff of his own, “Dude— I can practically feel the ‘I don’t deserve him’ thoughts radiating off of you.” He said and Lyra was, once again, floored.

Did Hawthornes just have an innate ability to read people’s mind?

Jameson continued to stare down at her as she contemplated the odds of people being born with super powers.

He chuckled, breaking her train of thoughts, “What?” She asked, sending him a glare that was purely habitual.

“I think you’re picking up on his expressions too.” Jameson said and she could tell he was holding back his laughter.

“Says the moron who was willing to be sappy for his girlfriend.” She bit right back.

Jameson let out a dramatic gasp, “I was not sappy. I personally think that was quite inspirational.” He said, placing a hand on his chest to showcase his pride.

They both stared at eachother, “So, you were incredibly sappy.” She concluded.

“Was not.” Jameson replied.

“Were to.”

“Was not.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, dimwit.” She said.

Jameson chuckled again, “Glad to know you’re worried about my sleep schedule.”

“No. I’m worried about you ruining Avery’s. The poor girl.” She said, adding her own, overly-dramatic, pitiful sigh at the end.

“That you needn’t worry about.” He said as he turned around and craned his neck to look at her. “I’ve already ruined that in more ways than one.” He finished adding a wink.

Lyra visibly cringed knowing fully well what he was implying, “If you don’t shut the fuck up, Hawthorne, I’ll make you.” She said threateningly.

Jameson laughed, “Is it bad that I don’t doubt you would?” He asked.

She smiled a wicked thing, “Absolutely.”

Jameson let out a defeated sigh as he walked towards the door, “Cmon, soon-to-be-sister-in-law, you’ll catch a cold if you stay up here and I don’t wish to be deemed responsible.” He said.

Lyra rolled her eyes and got up to exit the rooftop, she looked up at the moon one last time before turning around to follow her soon-to-be-brother-in-law down stairs.

They bickered all the way to Lyra’s room, since Jameson insisted he escort his brother’s soon-to-be wife to her room.

“Goodnight then, Jameson.” She said.

Jameson shot her a crooked grin in return before turning around to head towards his heiress.

“Oh and,” Lyra started and Jameson paused to turn around and face her.

“You’re not a bad brother, Jameson.” She said and she saw the surprise flash through Jameson’s eyes before he quickly neutralised it and gave her another smirk.

“I must be truly commendable if you noticed too.” He said, covering up his feelings. Classic Hawthorne Move.

Lyra smiled as she turned the knob to her and Grayson’s shared room, “You are.”

The last thing she saw was Jameson’s frozen figure before she shut the door. She let out a small laugh thinking back to the dazed little brother that Jameson was.

When she turned around prepared to lay down in bed and stare at her boyfriend for a while she was shocked to see Grayson, sitting up on his bed with a glass of water in his hand, and staring at her with a small smile on his face.

“You were with Jamie.” He said. Not a question.

Lyra smiled, thinking back to the conversation she had just had with her soon-to-be-brother-in-law, “I guess you could say we bonded over a certain bastard.” She replied.

Grayson let out a chuckle, his voice low from sleep. Lyra hated to admit that his sleepy tone still did things to her, even after all these months.

She walked over to him, closing the distance between them as she cupped his face and craned it upwards so they were staring directly at one another.

They stared at each other as Lyra made another mental declaration.

She hadn’t been there before. She couldn’t change that now no matter how much she wanted to, but that was fine. Because she was here now. She would help him get over his trauma. She would help his wounds heal, the way he did for her. And, even though the scars would never truly be completely gone, they would lessen, and she would make sure of it.

She would bandage those wounds with new memories, happier ones, and wait for them to give way to scars, permanent, not painful. Visible, not bleeding.

They would always be there, but they would fade. She was here now, and she would be forever.

Lyra couldn’t help the huge grin that broke out on her face as a tear rolled down her cheek. Grayson’s eyes sparkled with both worry and curiosity. She couldn’t afford to give him an explanation now. Not with words.

And so she bent down and they kissed. And this kiss was all-devouring. It was them.

No words needed to be exchanged as they layer next to each other in the dark, knowing fully well that neither of them had their eyes closed and that both of them were staring at one another.

And that was more than enough. They were more than enough.

—————————————————

OKAY. IM NOT GONNA LIE, I LOW-KEY HATE THIS ONE.

Like I really REALLY wanted to write a ff that would give some sort of origin story to my ‘Lyra and Jamie are best friends.’ head canon sosososos yea 😭🥹✋

This was TOUGH to write, I don’t like it, I honestly don’t expect anybody else to like it either, but I’m not gonna delete this much effort 😭😭🥹🥹🙏🏻🙏🏻 (it’s not beta read.)

Sorry in not advance (I forgot what the opposite of advance is— sue me.) folks.

@alwaysthefangirl , @lyrakanefanatic

Constructive Criticism 😭🥹🙏🏻

#the inheritance games #grayson hawthorne #the grandest game #grayson x lyra #jameson hawthorne #lyra kane #lyrason

80 notes · View notes

hwqdbncxowasqebclo · 3 months ago

Text

my exact reaction 😂 lol

Finally get to read all of them without treasure hunting!

If tig/tgg characters had twitter masterlist

————————————————————————

part 1:

part 2:

part 3:

part 4:

part 5:

part 6:

part 7:

part 8:

part 9:

part 10:

part 11:

part 12:

part 13:

part 14:

part 15:

part 16:

part 17:

part 18:

part 19:

part 20:

part 21:

part 22:

part 23:

part 24:

part 25:

part 26:

part 27:

part 28:

part 29:

part 30:

————————————————————————

#the inheritance games #finallyyyyyy #the grandest game #if tig/tgg characters had twitter #grayson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne

64 notes · View notes

hwqdbncxowasqebclo · 3 months ago

Text

Of course! I’m so glad you decided to do it.

I made a post a few days ago on the amount of TIG/TGG quotes I have saved and someone gave me the idea to do one quote a day posts. I probably can't do everyday but I'll post as much as I can

so here is Day 1 of TIG/TGG quotes I have saved:

The more complicated a person's strategy seemed, the less likely an opponent was to look for simple answers. If you could keep someone looking for your knight, you could take them with a pawn. Look past the details. Past the complications.

I'm pretty sure Avery said this quote and it's from the first book but I forgot what page it's on

Thank you @hwqdbncxowasqebclo for giving me this idea!

#the inheritance games #the brothers hawthorne #talah's quotes #the grandest game #avery grambs

16 notes · View notes

hwqdbncxowasqebclo · 4 months ago

Text

──── 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.

────

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

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

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.

𐔌 . ⋮ 🏷️ tags .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

@arqbella, @midiosaamor, @maybxlle @reminiscentreader, @ecliphttlunar,

@tornqdowarnings, @catapparently, @zenikswaffleshop, @off-to-th-r4aces, @emila07

271 notes · View notes

hwqdbncxowasqebclo · 4 months ago

Text

Scale of Sense Part VIII:

Summary: *cough, cough*

Warning: 18+ explicit. first time writing smut lol so i don't even know if it's that good.

~~~~~~~~~

Grayson pulls away from our kiss to lay me down on the couch.

I wasn’t expecting the couch, but I mean, if we do this, it’s something I can take off my bucket list.

“Grayson,”

“Shh, darling.” Grayson’s hands are on my waist again and he leans down to kiss me.

His kiss is rough. Hungry. Meant to be mine. Something that I’ll take any day. His hands slip under my shirt, leaving shivers in its wake.

This is surreal.

Grayson is positioned between my legs and I lift my hips, trying to create some friction between our bodies. His hands around my waist tightens and he pulls away from the kiss. I’m breathless, and I’m waiting for Grayson to take this a step further.

My hands go up to his face, and I force his eyes to mine. His eyes search mine, and I’m doing everything physically possible to let him know that I want this. That I’m ready, because I really, really want this.

But why is there still a bit of uncertainty inside of me?

Grayson suddenly sits up. I watch with big eyes as he strips down to his undershirt and pants.

How does this man not die from being too hot?

The shirt hugs his body perfectly and all I want to do is touch him.

And to be touched by him.

Grayson leans in for a kiss again, his hands dipping under my shirt. His hands are rough against my skin and I whimper into his mouth. He pulls at my shirt and I lift my arms, breaking the kiss and allowing him to pull my shirt off.

He pecks my lips before pulling back to admire my body. His fingers graze my waist and they move up and up until they reach my bra. I gulp.

Not yet.

I grab Grayson by the shirt and I pull him into a kiss. His tongue meets mine and the kiss becomes sloppy when Grayson’s hips dip down to meet mine. I pull back with a moan and I wish we can move this faster, but at the same time I want this to last as long as possible.

Grayson’s hand plays with my bra buckle and I gulp.

Why do I feel so uncertain about this?

Grayson leans his forehead against mine before he speaks with a hoarse voice. “May I?”

My heart skips a beat when I hear his voice. That’s because of me.

Or is it? How do I know that this isn’t something he’s done plenty of times before? How do I know that he’s not just using me to satisfy his needs?

Maybe this is the only reason he invited me to come here with him.

But then again, I never heard any rumors about him sleeping around.

“Yes,” My voice is also gone.

He loosens my bra and I slip it off. We’re still for a moment where Grayson stares at my chest. At first I’m worried that he doesn’t like what he sees, but he groans and bites his lip.

His head falls into the crook of my neck, and we stay like that for a few seconds.

“It’s unfair that you have to hide something like this.” Grayson’s voice praises softly in my ear. I grin.

“You know it’s not my fault, right? Blame society.” This pulls a chuckle out of Grayson.

He places a soft kiss on my shoulder, and on instinct my body tries to jerk away.

Grayson sits up suddenly. “What?” He stares at me with big eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”

A blush takes over my face. “No.”

“What happened?”

“Your hair tickled my neck.”

I try to bury my face in the couch from embarrassment. Grayson gives a soft chuckle again. His hand leads my face to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, Darling. You’re adorable.” My blush deepens.

Grayson’s lips peck mine before moving down my jaw and down to the crook of my neck where his teeth come out to play. I let out a breathy moan when he softly bites my skin.

He moves down again and when he gets to my chest, his hands move up to play with my breasts, grazing my nipples every few seconds. And everytime, it sends a jolt down my body, leaving it numb and ecstatic at the same time. I lift my hips again, asking Grayson for more.

His mouth moves down to my stomach and he brings his teeth out again. My hands find their way through his hair and I’m trying to keep in the little whimpers that escape my mouth. With every touch, I feel the goosebumps on my skin getting more and more prominent, until shivers run up and down my spine, leaving me breathless, leaving me wanting more, needing more.

I pull slightly at Grayson’s hair when he softly bites down on my stomach. Sensational. Freeing. Enticing.

His hands leave my breasts to pull at the belt loops of my jeans. I give a protesting whimper at the loss of pleasure. Grayson grins and looks up at me. “You’re not much of a patient person are you?” His voice is teasing and it sends a blush over my entire body. “Can I take them off?” He tugs at the loop.

I swallow, unsure, but I nod my head anyway. “Words, Sweetheart. Use your words.”

Butterflies erupt in all the right places at his words. “Y-yes. Take them off.”

“There we go.”

Grayson unbuttons my pants and he pulls them off, leaving me in my lingerie. I watch as he leans down to plant a kiss on my clit. My walls clench involuntarily. A million thoughts of Grayson flash through my head. A soft breath leaves my mouth and I push my hips up to try and gain some pleasure from his mouth.

He licks his lips when he comes back up. “Wow, Y/N.”

I feel my face flush. This is embarrassing. “I haven’t even done much.”

“You should take it as a compliment.”

“Why now?”

“Because no other man has ever been able to do that.”

Grayson hums in response. He plants another kiss on my soaked underwear before kissing his way back up to my mouth. His hands move down to unbuckle his pants and he takes them off.

His fingers slip into my underwear and I flinch when they graze my clit. His finger slides between my folds and my hips jerk. “Grayson,” My voice is soft, breathy, almost unheard.

His finger covers my entrance, but he doesn’t quite push it in yet. My hips jerk again, trying to get his finger to slip in, but it doesn’t work. “Grayson,” My voice is edging on a whimper and tears.

“It’s okay, darling, we’re almost there.”

He finally pulls my underwear off, and when he does, my legs open. My breaths are deep and ragged and I wait for Grayson to take the next step. To kiss me, touch me, fuck me, just any sort of pleasurable contact.

It’s only now that I notice that Grayson got rid of his underwear. I stare at his length and that’s when reality decided to hit. He leans down to kiss me but I push my hands gently onto his chest. “Grayson.”

I hate pushing him away.

Grayson buries his face in my shoulder. “You’re not ready.” His voice is soft, assuring, and that makes it all the more arousing.

“I just- I’ve never done this.” My voice is quick and frantic.

Grayson lifts his head and he lays his hand on my cheek. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” His eyes are understanding.

He’s not mad.

“And if I’m being honest,” He pauses. “This is a lot for me too. It’s also my first time.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“How?”

Grayson chuckles. “What can I say? I was saving myself for somebody very special.” He plants a kiss on my nose.

I try to avoid eye contact because of the blush overtaking my body.

“So, do you want me to stop? Because if you do, I’d understand.”

I think hard.

If I say no, I don’t know when we would get an opportunity like this again, but if I say yes…I’d be giving him something I’m never going to be able to get back.

Am I willing to take that risk?

To give something this big to somebody who could leave in two days?

“I don’t know.” I look away. I feel guilty for leading him on and then telling him that I want to stop. That’s not right. It’s not fair to him.

“It’s okay. We still have a lot of time.” Grayson gets up. He grabs his clothes and goes for the door.

“Grayson, wait.” I get up and grab his arm. “Wait.” I take his clothes from his hands and I drop it on the ground. “Fuck it.” Before he can say anything, I smash my lips onto his. This time, I’m the one leading him to the couch.

Grayson’s legs hit the couch and he sits down. I push him to lay down and I situate myself between his legs. I feel his dick pressing into my thigh as I lay my lips on his again. A soft moan breaks through his lips.

I pull his shirt off. I kiss down to his v-line and from there I lick back up until I reach his lips. I feel his hips jerk against me, and I get the taste of how he felt being on top of me. Or at least some taste.

I push my thigh against his hard-on and a breathy moan falls from his wide-open mouth. “Y/N.”

I bite my lip.

Should I?

“What is it, Grayson?”

“Don’t.”

And when did I decide that it was a good idea to try and dominate when one word from his mouth can push me over the edge?

I lift my thigh, allowing space for my hand to work. “Tell me when it feels good.”

I grab onto his length and I start giving slow, soft pumps. I still don’t have any idea what I’m doing. I don’t know how fast to go, or how hard to squeeze. “You can go a bit faster, Y/N.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I’ve never done this. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Grayson sits up so that he can lean against the armrest of the couch. “It’s okay.” My hand is still around his dick but I’m not on top of him anymore. “Here,” He wraps his hand around mine, and he helps me to adjust the pressure. “Let me.” He starts moving his hand and I move mine too.

I try to concentrate on what Grayson is trying to show me, but my eyes keep running up and down his body. He’s sweating in all the right places. His face holds a look of pure ecstasy, pure pleasure. And it wakes something up inside of me.

I pull my hand away from his dick and I make my way onto his body again. “Y/N, what-” I cut him off with a kiss. This time it’s my turn to moan. The kiss is wet and sloppy and it’s nowhere near perfect, but it means so much to me in this moment.

Grayson flips us and he deepens the kiss when he’s on top of me. His hand goes down to my wetness again and he lets his finger slip between my folds. He moves his finger up and over my clit before resting it at my entrance again. “May I?”

“Yes.”

His finger enters me. “Grayson.”

He starts to slowly move his finger in and out. I don’t know how this is supposed to feel, but I’m pretty sure that it can’t get any better than this.

Not long after, Grayson adds another finger and my breath hitches. It can get better.

When I’m adjusted to his fingers, I start to move my hips in pace with his hands. With every jerk of my hips a soft moan escapes my lips. “That’s it, baby. Does that feel good?” I nod my head and Grayson fastens the movements of his hand. I can feel myself slowly crumbling with every in and out.

My hand goes down to rub my clit, but Grayson beats me to it. “No, no. You just enjoy it.”

“Grayson.” His name falls so easily from my mouth and I’m afraid that I won’t ever be able to say his name again without thinking about this moment. His movements are perfectly paced and I can feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge.

“Gray-,” I moan. “Grayson, I think- I’m close.”

“That’s good, baby. Whenever you’re ready.”

After a few more thrust of my hips, complete ecstasy fills my vision, and I feel my walls clench around Grayson’s fingers. “That’s it, my darling. There you go.”

I ride out my orgasm on his fingers, but Grayson continues to rub my clit, and with every rub, my body jerks with painful pleasure. “Grayson,” His name slips from my mouth again. He continues to rub and I want to release again, but somehow, I find the strength in me to grab his hand. “Wait.”

His movements stop almost instantly. We stare into each other’s eyes as the moment plays out again and again in my mind.

Will I ever be able to forget that look in his eyes?

I manuever us so that I’m on top of Grayson again.

“I want to,” I find it hard to say the words. Grayson grabs my hands.

“It’s okay.” How can a man of such stature be so patient with something as ridiculous as this?

He moves his hands to my waist and he lifts me slightly. I help by slightly standing on my knees. One of his hands leave my waist to line himself up with me. When his tip is lined with my entrance, he lowers me a bit so that his tip just merely entered. Again, it’s enough to send me over the edge, but I hold back.

When both of his hands are on my waist again, he gently leads me by pushing me down slowly. For the first inch or two, I’m fine, but the further down I went, the more it started to hurt. Grayson noticed this and he stopped to give me time to adjust.

When his full length was finally in, we stayed like that for a few seconds.

I can feel him inside of me. It’s so weird. “Are you okay?” Grayson’s voice breaks the sweet silence that fell over us. His voice cracks and I can tell that he’s holding himself back.

“Yeah, great.”

“Good.”

Grayson slightly pulls my hips toward his face and I gasp. I thought I was going up again. He repeats the motion a few more times until he hears a moan coming from my mouth. That’s when he starts to lift me again.

His hips seem to chase mine as I’m being lifted from his dick. Grayson grunts, and I grin, knowing that he’s enjoying this.

I grab ahold of both of Graysons’ hands and I drop myself onto his full length again. We both hissed. Me in slight pain and Grayson in pleasure. “Be careful, Sweetheart. Don’t hurt yourself.” Oh boy, he’s breathless.

“I’m okay.”

I moan when I lift myself again. When I go back down, I repeat the action that Grayson did earlier. I move my hips until I get to the spot that feels just right. I roll my hips, basically screaming Grayson’s name with every roll. He tightens his grip on my waist and he forces me to go faster.

I lay my head on his chest and our bodies rock with every thrust, every moan, every encouraging word Grayson throws my way.

I’m in heaven. And I never want to leave.

But I can’t stay either.

“Uhgg, Y/N, I’m-” I interrupt Grayson with another moan. “I’m close. Should I pul-”

“No. No. Inside.”

The choice was made in the moment. And probably stupidly, but I need to feel his release inside of me.

“S-sure?”

“Yeah.”

After a few more thrusts, I feel myself squirting all over Grayson’s dick. He yells my name when that happens and he holds out as long as physically possible.

I scream his name when he ejaculates inside of me. “Grayson. Grayson,” My nails leave half moons on his shoulders as I come down from my high.

I lick my lips and I don’t pay mind to the salty taste it leaves in my mouth. We lay like that for a few more seconds before Grayson lifts my hips to pull himself out. Our bodies are sweaty against each other and neither of us say anything. We listen to each other’s breathing. Nobody told me that sex is so exhausting.

I hope I made him feel good.

God, I hope he doesn’t leave.

It will tear me apart if he does. I’ll be ruined. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep with another guy again.

“Holy shit.” I hoist myself up on my hand.

“What?” Grayson’s voice is soft, content. His hands are rubbing circles on the small of my back.

“I just had sex with you.”

Grayson smirks. “Indeed you did.”

I lie my chin on his chest. “I just had sex with Grayson Hawthorne.”

I just had sex with Grayson fucking Hawthorne.

Just wait until Blake hears about this.

Grayson places a soft kiss on my forehead and I crawl up his body so that I can lay my head on his shoulder.

We fall asleep like that, and I can’t promise waking up anytime soon.

~~~~~~~~~

hello, hello lovies!!

i hope you enjoyed. like i said, it's my first time writing smut so i have no idea if it's good or not.

lmk!!

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

taglist:

@elysianwayy77 @reminiscentreader @x-liv25-jamieswife @i-too-enjoy-blog @no1bookgirl @merylovesbooks @eternallybri @nothankyou3333 @miicellaneous @thecircularlibrary @mafiasliege @imaseabear @narkissistikos @lanterns-and-daydreams @eternal--dream

92 notes · View notes

hwqdbncxowasqebclo · 5 months ago

Text

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.

62 notes · View notes

hwqdbncxowasqebclo · 5 months ago

Text

Not me missing the Red Queen fandom. Its run was awesome. Shout out to the queens Lily and Annie for their amazing fics. MareCal forever! Shade Barrow, you were taken to soon

@king-maven-calore @lilyharvord

#red queen #mare barrow #cal calore #Red Queen fanfiction #marecal #shade barrow

16 notes · View notes

hwqdbncxowasqebclo · 11 months ago

Note

ANOTHER lyrason clubbing fanfic PLEASEE oml

sure! here it is!

————————————————

Uncultured And Loud

warnings: none

pairings: Lyra x Grayson

words: 1,319

AN: okay- so this seems so much like my last clubbing fic and i went back to read it and it honestly was so much better than this😭 also this isn't proofread

tagging @whatsamongus @two-braincells-in-total @nonerrata-myarchives (lemme know if you wanna be added)

————————————————

“Yes, we are going.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll have you know, I don’t idealize spending my weekend in some uncultured and loud settings.”

“It’s a club.”

“Your point?”

This really pissed her off, “My point, asshole, is that either way, I am fucking going.”

With that she marched to the bedroom and could still feel his eyes on her when she slammed the door.

This was so unfair. So very unfair.

Ignoring the disappointment, she picked up her phone and dialed someone’s number.

She picked up on the sixth ring. She sounded a bit breathless,

“H-hey Lyra. What’s up?”

“Hi Avery. Are you free tonight?”

“Uh-yeah-”

There was a lot distortion on the other side and a distant yell, ‘Liar’

“Do you wanna go clubbing?” Lyra said loudly – enough to speak over the commotion on the other line.

Silence.

“Bring Jameson too.” Avery and Jameson were a package deal. And Avery was currently with Jameson so it only seemed fair to invite him too. And besides, unlike his brother, Jameson wouldn’t leave his girlfriend to go to a club all alone.

“Oh, okay.”

────────────────────

After confirming with Avery, Lyra had called Max; who was onboard with this idea.

So in the end, it ended up being her, Max, Avery, and Jameson in Jameson’s black Bugatti. The club was also of his choosing – and also miles out of Texas. It was elite and looked expensive with the intimidating exterior.

“Fax,” Max muttered as she and Lyra looped their arms together and entered the club following Avery and Jameson.

Jameson looked back and gave a very Hawthorne smirk, “Welcome to the best club in America, ladies.”

It did seem like the best club in America.

It had a grand, sweeping staircase with polished mahogany banisters, leading to a lavishly decorated upper level. The foyer was adorned with shimmering crystal chandeliers that casted a warm, inviting glow across the room. Rich, dark hardwood floors contrast with plush, deep velvet carpets in rich hues of emerald and burgundy.

The walls were lined with elegant, bespoke artwork and opulent mirrors in ornate gold frames, creating an air of sophistication and timelessness. Private alcoves were sectioned off with heavy, velvet drapes and plush seating.

All of it seemed straight out of the Victorian era.

They divided into groups of two. Max and Lyra went toward the bar whereas Avery and Jameson made their way to the upper level.

The bar area had a sleek, marble countertop with an impressive array of rare and premium liquors displayed behind it, all illuminated by soft, ambient lighting. High-backed leather chairs were meticulously arranged around low tables that held crystal glassware and fresh floral arrangements.

The girls started with shots and then moved toward whiskey and tequila.

With flutes of alcoholic beverages in their hands, they stumbled their way to the adjoined room- which was the dance floor.

Yes, the whole room was a dance floor with a disco ball and a large DJ set on the far end.

Lyra could feel the music and the vibration in her bones.

She was partially drunk. Dancing was not a good idea.

But Max decided for her, snatching the glass from her hands and shoulder bumping her, “Gooooo. Danceeeee.”

Her speech was slurred but her hands were steady.

Lyra went to the dance floor as soon as the music changed and “Dance the Night away” by Dua Lipa came on.

The song’s steady, danceable rhythm made her footwork in flow with the smooth rhythm. She started with basic side-to-side step, gradually incorporating more intricate moves as she got into the groove. Shuffling or small spins add a touch of flair that kept her movements lively. Her arm movements were fluid and the occasional twirls and spins matched the beat.

She glided across the dance floor in graceful movements and avoided bumping into the cluster of people. The multi-colored lights flashing all over were a bit unsettling but she got used to it. Soon Max had joined her, and they’d danced in slow sensual movements.

“He’s been watching you, you know,” Max whispered in her ear.

“Who is?”

“Your boyfriend.”

Lyra was about to say, “He doesn’t idealize spending his weekends at an uncultured and loud setting.” But she bit it back as Max twirled her around and subtly gestured her arm toward one corner – which was the least crowded. There, leaning against the wall, half hidden by the shadows, indeed was Grayson Hawthorne.

In a club. On a Saturday night. Watching her.

His hair was ruffled and he was dressed in black- shirt, pants, and coat.

His gray eyes were transfixed on her. She refused to meet his eyes.

She focused on being annoyed at him rather than her palpitating heart.

“I would suggest, you should forgive him. Think wiselyyyy,” Max spun around and away from her, falling right into a tall figure.

Xander.

Oh so they all were here. Except, maybe Nash.

“Hey darling,” a voice called out to her. The voice was very unfamiliar and tinged with an accent. Lyra stopped her arm movement and slowed her pace to his.

She wouldn’t have bothered to entertain this conversation.

But she was pissed.

She titled her head to the side and finally met his eyes.

A jolt of electricity went through her.

She tore her gaze back to the stranger and smiled, “Hello.”

Was she trying to make her boyfriend jealous?

Nooooo- she was just dancing- yeah, scratch that, she was trying to make him jealous.

“Mind if we dance?” The guy asked

“Sure, why not?”

He smiled broadly at her, “I am Mike by the way. What’s your name gorgeous?”

Mike was fairly good looking. Although he had a wandering eye and that awkwardness around him. He seemed nice-

Her smiled strained as he placed a sweaty hand on her bare shoulder.

Her instinct was to knee him in the balls. Or probably punch him. Or break that hand that was currently on his shoulder.

Before she even had a chance to react, an arm is wrapped around her bare torso, pulling her back.

Was a girl to fight the one who attacked her from the front or the back?

His intoxicating cologne hit her nostrils a second later and she melted into his touch.

The stranger looked at Lyra and then at the guy standing behind her, and slowly backtracked before running away.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, acutely aware of his presence, “I thought you didn’t idealize wasting your weekends in loud and uncultured places.”

“I don’t.”

Before she could wrench out of his grip, he wrapped both his arms around her started to sway them both to the beat of the music.

“But I go where ever you go. So damn this uncultured loud place. As long as you are here, I want to stay too.”

She ignored how his words had that effect on her.

“You weren’t saying this earlier today.”

A hand brushed her hair to the side and a shiver ran up her spine as she felt lips on her exposed neck. “I was lying, sweetheart.”

Why was this tube top so revealing?

His hot breath fanned over her collar bones.

She took a deep breath.

“Uh huh sure.” Lyra was proud of herself for coming with arguments.

“It’s true,” he insisted, dipping his head lower.

“I am still mad.”

“What can I do to make it better?”

“That’s your problem.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair.”

He pulled back and twirled her around so they were facing each other.

He leaned down and swiftly captured her lips in his. She stretched on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Now do you consider not being mad at me?” he spoke in between the kiss.

“No.”

“Would taking this to the private alcoves work?”

A ghost of smile appeared on her lips, “I don’t know, Hawthorne. Test to find out.”

51 notes · View notes