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berystraw · 3 days

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A Little Too Drunk To Remember

[P.J Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist]

Warning: usage of y/n and y/l/n (like 5 times I think), mention of alcohol and being drunk, Annabeth close to murdering Percy, kissing, aged up pjo characters

Pairing: reader x Percy Jackson

W.C: 2k Note: I'm planning on making my Percy Jackson tag list! Comment if you want to be part of it! Also if you want to be part of my overall taglist! Synopsis: After celebrating a bit too much after their win, Percy gets a little too drunk to remember who his girlfriend is.

Camp Half-Blood had just completed another successful game of Capture the Flag on Friday. The blue team emerged as the victors, thanks to the exceptional leadership of the Athena Cabin. To commemorate their win, a celebration was organized in their honor. Once Chiron and Mr. D had retired for the night, the real party began. The Hermes cabin unveiled their covert stash of pilfered alcoholic beverages. Both blue and red team members danced and reveled throughout the night. Percy, being part of the blue team, was not exempt from the festivities.

By midnight, Grover, Annabeth, and a thoroughly intoxicated Percy stumbled onto the front porch of Poseidon's cabin. "Percy, get up! You can't sleep outside here!" whispered Annabeth, attempting to help him rise from his slumber on the chilly cement floor. "Hold him while I open the door," Grover instructed Annabeth, who stared at him with wide eyes. "I swear, I'm getting annoyed," she grumbled, struggling to keep Percy upright. "Come on, Percy. We're almost there," Grover said, taking one of Percy's arms and placing it over his shoulder, guiding him inside the cabin. The three of them attempted to enter the cabin discreetly, but Percy tripped over nothing, causing Grover and Annabeth to stumble along with him.

"Ow! Percy!"

"Seaweed-brain, you're heavy!"

"Shhhhh! Be quiet, both of you!"

"What the hell is going on?" a voice asked, and moments later, the lights flickered on. You stood there, slightly shocked, observing the scene before you. "You guys look like you could use some help," you chuckled, walking towards the group. You assisted Annabeth and Grover in standing up before the three of you carried Percy to one of the beds in the corner of the room. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you gently laid Percy down on the soft mattress.

"I was this close to leaving him on the ground," Annabeth said, raising her hand to demonstrate the small distance between her thumb and forefinger. You laughed at her playful gesture and glanced at Percy, who lay on the bed completely oblivious to the minor predicament he had caused. "I would have done the same if I were both of you," you shrugged, causing the two of them to laugh.

After some persuasion, you managed to convince Annabeth and Grover to retire for the night instead of trying to assist you with the situation that went by the name of Percy Jackson. You sat down on the bed beside Percy and reached out to touch his curly blonde hair, which had grown longer over the past three months. Rising from your seat, you walked towards the small closet next to the bed and retrieved some fresh, comfortable clothes for him to sleep in. Placing them on the edge of the bed, you attempted to wake Percy. "Perc? Babe, you need to wake up and change," you whispered. He emitted a small grunt, slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes, adjusting to the bright light in the room.

He took the clothes from your hands and was about to lift his shirt when he paused, looking at you. "Miss, you seem nice and all, but could you please look away? I don't think it would be appropriate to change in front of a girl, especially considering I have a girlfriend," Percy's words caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but giggle, causing his eyebrows to furrow in confusion. "Uh, okay. I'll be in the restroom if you need me," you said, trying to stifle your laughter. He nodded, waiting for you to enter the restroom and close the door before changing out of his soiled clothes.

You covered your mouth with your hand, attempting to suppress your laughter. The serious expression on Percy's face as he made his request amused you. It was at that moment you realized that he mistook you for someone else. After a few minutes, you decided to emerge from the restroom. You saw Percy surveying the room as if it were his first time entering it."You okay, Perce?" You asked him out of concern. He had only broken out of his trance when you placed a hand on his shoulder. His blue eyes looked up at you and you were stopping yourself from melting right there and then. "You still need to brush your teeth before bed," You reminded him and he calmly nodded before walking towards the restroom.

You stared at his stumbling figure as he walked. You were about to walk over to him to help but he raised his hand in front of you, giving you a sign that he's alright. You lay down on your side of the bed, waiting for your boyfriend to come back. You didn't realize you were starting to fall asleep and didn't notice he had already left the restroom.

You woke up to the sound of shuffling. "Percy?" You groggle reaching out for his side but feel only the cold bedsheets. Eyes lazily opening, you look down from the bed and see Percy lying uncomfortably on the cold tiled floor of his cabin. "Parcy, baby, you can't sleep there," You tried convincing him but he only shook his head.

"I can't. I don't want to upset y/n," He sleepily said. "Why is that? I'm sure she wouldn't mind," You giggled lightly and hoped it convinced him but it didn't. He shook his head again and turned in the other direction. "I don't want to sleep beside someone who isn't my girlfriend. Goodnight, miss," After that, you realized you wouldn't be able to convince him at all so you just decided to sleep.

You had a bit of trouble sleeping since you weren't exactly used to sleeping without Percy beside you. Eventually, as the music from outside slowly ceased, your eyes also slowly closed due to sleepiness. It wasn't the best but it would do.

Hours later, you woke up to the sound of loud music playing. Being a child of Apollo does suck sometimes. The sun god would ride in his amazing chariot in the morning while blaring loud music that only his children would hear. "He does like showing off, even to his children," You mumble as you get out of the bed and walk to the restroom. You spotted Percy still lying on the cold floor, sleeping. You crouched down by his head pushed his hair out his forehead and gave it a gentle kiss.

You walked to the bathroom and did your business. When you walked out you saw Percy sitting on the floor with his hands on his head. "You okay there babe?" You asked him. You obviously know he wasn't feeling well, you just wanted him to confirm it. "No, my head is throbbing like crazy and why am I sleeping on the floor? My whole body is screaming in pain right now," He said massaging his shoulder.

"You refused to sleep beside me last night so you just slept on the floor," You said sitting on the bed with a hot cup of coffee in hand. "Why would I do that?" He asked confused. "I swear I couldn't remember a single thing from last night,"

"Well, you got carried here by Grover and Annabeth and when you got in you refused to let me touch you or be near you in fear of your "girlfriend" getting angry," You recall the happenings from last night. He stared at you in confusion while grabbing your hand to let you play with his hair.

"Why would I do that?" He asks himself while staring off into the distance. "I don't know, baby. You tell me," You shrug while sipping your coffee. You spent a few minutes in silence, your hand never stopping to play with Percy's hair. "OH MY GODS" You suddenly hear him say out loud and you instantly realize he remembered everything from last night. "I did not just say that," He had his face buried in his hands with his ears turning a bright shade of red in embarrassment. You laughed while he continued to whine and complain in embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "It's okay baby don't need to say sorry. I found it hilarious last night," You laughed. Percy slowly stood up and wrapped his arms around your frame. He had to bend down a bit because he was taller than your sitting figure. "I'm sorry," His head was burning in between your shoulder and neck, and you felt wet and gentle kisses being placed on your neck.

"It's fine, baby, I understand," You chuckled lightly and stroked his hair. If you never heard a human purr before, now you do. You and Percy stay silent like that for a few minutes more. It was getting rare for the both of you to have any peace around her now that more campers were starting to enter camp day by day. Damn, those gods be multiplying every day. Percy had to help train some kids while you had to take care of the new Apollo kids that were claimed by your father. Both of you seemed so busy that it's starting to become a rare occurrence for you both to be like this with each other. You just realized now how much you craved your boyfriend's warm and soft embrace. It makes you not want to let him go.

"My headache is healing," Percy mumbles after a few minutes. You look at your hands and see them glowing golden. "Oops, my bad," You laughed. Percy grabs a hold of your thighs and lifts you. You yelped and held on to him in panic. He laughs at the sound and sets you down on his lap. "I missed you," He says brushing a strand of hair out of your face and behind your ear. "I missed you too," You say while you stared at his blue eyes that greatly reminded you of the ocean.

"I missed you too, Percy," You smiled. He stared at you a few seconds more before removing the gap between both of you. His lips tasted sweet from the sugary blue candy his mother gave him before he left for camp and a hint of saltiness that reminded you of ocean water. How did he taste like that? You don't even know. His lips felt so soft and pillowy against your own and you just know he was using the lip cream you gave him after you told him how chapped his lips were.

After a moment you both pull away, breathless. Percy smiles as he stares at your breathless figure. Lips plump, cheeks flushed, and eyes sparkling. That's when he realized how so in love he was with you and you felt the same about him too. The two of you stared at each other with love and so much passion. Not even the gods can deny how much you both were made for each other.

"Y/n we need yo-" Both you and Percy's heads turn to the door of the cabin. You saw Will and Lee standing by the entrance, cheeks pink after seeing the position you were both in. "Percy are you awa-" Annabeth and Grover arrive behind the two Apollo children and freeze after seeing you both.

"We'll just-" "I think it's better if we-"

"Yeah," The 4 close the door, and you and Percy look at each other and start to laugh loudly. "Did you see Grover's face?" Percy asked in between his laughter. "Poor young Will!" You wheezed. "Jackson you better get out of there in the next 5 minutes!" You both hear Annabeth yell from the outside but none of you paid attention after remembering the way her face turned so red. "Y/L/N we need help out here!" Lee yelled out.

"You heard them, Jackson, you need to leave," You say to him after the both of you calm down. "You need to as well Y/L/N," He said back with a smirk. He was leaning down to kiss you again before…

"Y/L/N!" "JACKSON!"

Maybe next time…

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berystraw · 9 days

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Opinion!:

A character with no trauma at all is boring like WHERE IS THE DRAMA?!?!?! I don't think anyone had such a perfect life girl✋️

#opinion #random #text post

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berystraw · 11 days

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IM CRYING WHY IS HE SO HOT

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berystraw · 12 days

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I love me a traumatized character that thinks she's extremely hard to love and the love interest just loves her like she's air

#lovers #love interest #hurt/comfort #love #traumatic experience #trauma #childhood trauma

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berystraw · 12 days

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#fanfic #fem reader #fluff #own character #percy jackson #pjo fandom #pjo #percy pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #reader #tumblr polls #tropes

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berystraw · 15 days

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Love Leaves Scars: Lies After Lies

[L.L.S Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [G.H Masterlist]

Warning: none

Pairing: Oc!reader x Grayson Hawthorne

W.C: 1.1k

"What are you doing here?" His voice is harsh and cruel.

It felt like two poisonous fangs stab themselves into my heart, releasing venom. My heart aches yet I tell myself I shouldn't feel that way. I deserve this. The eyes that once gazed at me as if I held the world now transform. They are no longer soft and filled with love. His gaze has hardened, brimming with profound hatred and anger. I cannot blame him. The girl he loved had departed after a night of passion and promises. After three years, he is now looking at the same girl he once loved. The girl that put him through hell and back. I was that girl. Verity Rosewood is that girl.

"She's named in the will, Gray," Nash explains. Grayson's hard gaze never leaves mine. I wish it didn't. I wish he would continue to stare at me like this. Even if it was no longer as soft and loving as it used to be. Grayson opens his mouth to speak but Xander beats him to it. "I have scones! Come eat them with me, Reri!" Xander quickly grabs hold of my wrist and drags me away from the scene. "I'll bring everything upstairs!" I heard Nash announce as I was being dragged away by his much taller but younger brother.

Reri. A nickname Xander used to call me when he was younger. A nickname I haven't heard in years but the feeling of hearing it stays the same. It was still as warm and welcoming.

After a bit more running and dragging by Xander, we finally reached the kitchen. I couldn't help myself remember all the memories we had in this room. Baking cookies, late-night snacks, stealing ice cream after bedtime, my first kiss.

"A blueberry scone?" Xander offered. "I'd rather have a lemon one," I say. A sour expression stays on his face for a moment but still offers me a lemon scone. "Blueberry scones are better than the lemon ones," Xander started and I scoffed at him. "Blueberry scones are too sweet. Diabetes would be knocking at your door every time you eat one," I argued back. He ignores my argument and places the Blueberry scones closer to him.

"I missed you, Reri," Xander says suddenly. I missed you too. I wanted to say those 4 words back but I couldn't get the words out of my mouth. They continue to be thoughts I couldn't translate into words. I stay silent. It's all I could do at the moment. "We all did," Xander added. Lies.

I couldn't believe those words. I could never do that. My hand was gripping the edge of the counter so tightly that my knuckles were turning white. My head lowered as I felt Xander's gaze on me, waiting for a response that would never come. He sighs and looks down on his plate. It was now my turn to look at him. This is the only time I see how he matured over time. 3 years. 3 years have passed since I last saw Xander. He's grown. Jawline more defined, shoulders broader, he was taller, but his hair was still as fluffy as it used to be.

"Reri, play with me, please!" A little Xander Hawthorne begged. He took my hand and led me into the living room where a chess board was laid out. He gestured for me to sit on the white side of the board while he sat on the black. "White plays first,"

I'm sorry. 2 words I wanted to say but struggled to let out. I open my mouth but close them again. The words are familiar yet feel foreign to my tongue. I'm sorry won't make up for the lost time. I'm sorry won't make up for the wounds I've created. I'm sorry would never fix the broken and it never will. They were merely overused words; words that are only words. I don't feel sorry for leaving. Deep down I am but I knew my reasons why I left. I left because… because?

"Xander, it would be best if you let Verity rest," Nash says walking inside the kitchen. How long has he been hiding? Has he heard? Xander gives a nod before waving goodbye. I waved back at him before leaving the two brothers alone in the kitchen.

Every year Tobias Hawthorne would add a room in the Hawthorne House. Another piece to the puzzle was added. Another trap. Another riddle. I walk through hallways and enter rooms leading me to another one. All of it felt familiar. I couldn't help but feel a smile creep on my face as I allowed myself to feel. To remember. For once in my life, I allowed myself to reminisce the memories that I continue to lock away.

"You shouldn't be here," Grayson says out of nowhere. I jumped at his sudden appearance. He was standing by the doorway of one of the rooms in the Hawthorne House. His back was straight and his shoulders tensed. "You shouldn't have come," He says walking closer to me. Stop, don't come closer. I stay silent and let him talk. "You should have ignored their pleas," Another step. An inch closer to me. He was so close yet felt so far.

Like I always do.

"Like you always do," He added. There it was. I knew he would say it. The words he knew would stab knives and make my heart bleed. "Leave and never come back, Verity," Grayson ordered. His voice is as cold as his eyes. I felt small and vulnerable. It was like I was 6 years old all over again.

"After the will reading, I'll be out your hair Gray. Until then, I'll make sure not to wander around for you to see me," I give him a small smile. A fake smile. That was what I could give him. That's what I could only give him. My shoulders brush past him as I walk away. I felt him tense from the simple contact of our shoulders but he doesn't move at all.

"Asnid's in your old room," I heard Jameson say. He was leaning on the wall outside the room Grayson and I were in. I'm sure he heard the things Grayson told me. "Thank you, Jamie," I was about to walk away when he held onto my wrist. "He doesn't hate you as much as it looks," He says in a low voice. Probably for Grayson not to hear his confession. Another lie.

I smile at Jameson and remove my wrist from his grasp. "There's no need to lie, Jamie," Grayson walked out of the room after I said those words. He glances at me and Jameson but says nothing and leaves.

I allow my eyes to watch him walk down the corridor and out my sight. I could feel Jameson's eyes on me but I simply walked away from him as well. I just wish the will reading would start as soon as it can. Because I don't think I could last another second in this house with the man I once love loved.

Taglist: @whysosmugwitch

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berystraw · 17 days

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I'll be releasing a percy jackson and James hawthorne fic while also a new chapter for Love Leaves Scars this weekend!!

#grayson hawthorne x reader #jameson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit #the hawthorne legacy #fanfic #fem reader #fluff #percy jackson #pjo #harry potter character x reader #jameson hawthorne x reader #percy jackson x reader

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berystraw · 19 days

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I'm planning to release a jameson hawthorne and percy jackson fic I don't know which to choose first tho😭 I already got the plots just don't know which one to release first

#jameson hawthorne x reader #jameson hawthorne #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #pjo #the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #the brothers hawthorne

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berystraw · 25 days

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idk if requests are open so if they aren’t just ignore this lol. so i had an idea of grayson hawthorne x reader fic that’s just been sitting in my head for a while but i don’t have the skill to write it 😭

ok so the reader is like childhood friends with all the hawthornes (she always had a crush on grayson) and her dad was business partners with tobias hawthorne (or something like that idk) and they kinda just grew apart, the reader going to another country for college or something, and the reader and grayson have this big reunion a few days after the reading of tobias hawthornes will.

take it wherever you want from there, i just thought it was a cute idea

HIIII! My requests are very much open!!! Of course I'll love to do your request!! I hope it's okay if I switch some things a bit at the end😚😚 im sorry if it would take some time to post your request tho!!

#request #anonymous #anon ask

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berystraw · 27 days

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I wouldn't be able to post until the end of the week since school started again! BUT SPOILERS FOR NEXT CHAPTER!

Taglist: @whysosmugwitch

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berystraw · 27 days

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I'm thinking of creating a taglist WHO WANTS TO JOIN✋️✋️✋️

#taglist

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berystraw · 28 days

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Love Leaves Scars: The Memories That Haunts

[L.L.S Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [G.H Masterlist]

Warning: none

Pairing: Oc!Reader x Grayson Hawthorne

W.C: 2k

When I mentioned wanting lunch, ice cream never crossed my mind. Yet here I am, seated in a local ice cream store, eating ice cream with Nash Hawthorne.

The cold spoon rests delicately between my fingers as I idly swirl the melting ice cream before me. I can't bring myself to take even a small bite. The chill in the room should make me shiver, but I am unaffected by the cold.

When we were younger, Nash had a habit of whisking me away for ice cream whenever I'm upset. I think he still does. It should bring me joy. Overwhelming happiness. Reuniting with people you haven't seen for years should elicit elation, especially when they've had a significant impact on your life. But I feel none of that. Maybe I do feel it but choose to ignore it.

"Are you okay? You haven't touched your ice cream," Nash's voice, accompanied by his accent, snaps me out of my trance. "Yeah, I just haven't had lunch yet. I don't want to spoil my appetite," I reason. "Oh, you could have told me," I shake my head, gazing down at the now liquefied ice cream. "It's okay. What's on your mind?" he asks. I hesitate to answer, opening my mouth but failing to produce any words. The cycle continues—open, close, open, close. No words emerge. It wasn't this difficult with Nash before. Before. This is now, the present.

"You seem uncomfortable, don't you?" Is it that obvious? Of course it is. "I'm sorry," I apologize as if my discomfort is my fault. Maybe it is. Nash shakes his head, offering reassurance. "No worries, I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn't have surprised you like that. A little warning would have been considerate," Even if there had been a warning, it wouldn't have made a difference. I would have disregarded it. I would have ran away, as I always do.

"He visited you, didn't he?" Nash inquires, causing me to raise my head and meet his gaze. "The Hawthornes do love their surprise visits, huh?" I joke and he chuckles. I'm not sure if I should miss the sound of his laughter. Silence envelops us once more. No words exchanged, just the two of us sitting in silence.

Until Nash breaks the silence. "I'm not angry at you for leaving. None of us are," Nash assures me. Lies. "If you think that will persuade me to return, you're making a pathetic attempt," I retort. Nash shakes his head and reaches for my hand, resting on the table, but I swiftly withdraw it before his touch can make contact.

"Please, don't touch me, Nash."

His hand retreats to his side of the table, perhaps realizing that his touch wouldn't offer any solace. Not like it used to. "I didn't mean to bring it up," he says, and I scoff in response. "Then you shouldn't have broached the subject," I reply. The jingle of the shop's doorbell signals someone's arrival or departure. "Verity!" a high-pitched voice calls out, instantly recognizable.

"I received your text— Oh! H-hi! Verity, you could have mentioned you were on a date," Asnid whispers the last part as she sits down beside me. Nash snorts, clearly having overheard her. "He's not a date of mine," I clarify. "Verity is not my type, unfortunately," Nash adds.

"Oh! I'm sorry if I interrupted an important conversation. I just got worried about you, Vers. I thought you were kidnapped," Asnid says. "Knowing Verity, you should be concerned that the kidnapper is the one being held hostage," Nash jokes. Asnid giggles and nods in agreement. "That's true," she concurs.

I observe their interaction, feeling a surge of jealousy rising within me. I suppress it, concealing my emotions. "I believe we haven't been formally introduced. I'm Nash," Nash extends his hand, introducing himself. I watch as Asnid extends her hand and shakes his. "Asnid, Verity's roommate and best friend," best friend. The term evokes unwelcome memories.

"Promise me I'll be your best friend forever?"

"I promise!" A broken promise.

"Nash's grandfather passed away, and I need to go with him for the will's reading," I cut to the chase and inform her. "I'm sorry for your loss, Nash. When are you leaving?" Asnid asks.

"Tomorrow—"

"Today—"

Today? I look at Nash, confused. "Tomorrow would be preferable," I interject, leaving no room for negotiation. This isn't up for negotiation. If he wants me to return home, he must adjust to my conditions. My rules.

"Enough time for both of you to pack your belongings," Nash smiles at Asnid. I feel her hand squeeze mine. Hawthornes always have that effect on women. I know because I was once susceptible to their charming smiles. Not Nash's, though.

"She's not coming with us," I refuse to bring Asnid along. I refuse to witness my best friend interacting with the people who inflicted wounds so deep that three years have not been enough to heal them.

"Ignore her. I'm coming with you guys," I attempt to change her mind, but Asnid glares at me. She rarely gets angry, but when she does, it's quite intimidating. I can only remain silent and watch them negotiate.

I must look like a child whose mother told them to be quiet while she talks to adults. "I'll book the tickets, then," Asnid says. "I'll cover the expenses. It's the least I can do for the trouble," Nash offers.

A few more details are exchanged, but I struggle to recall them. I find myself captivated by a homeless man playing chess with a brunette on the street. I watch as she defeats him in just five moves. He slumps his shoulders in defeat, and his lips move, likely accusing her of cheating or something of the sort.

"Verity, let's go," I turn my head to Asnid. She and Nash are already standing by the door. I grab my backpack and follow them out of the shop. The ride back home is uneventful. Nash falls silent in the backseat, while Asnid drives alongside me.

The only sound is the music playing on the radio. Suddenly, I find myself back at our apartment, in my room. My suitcase is laid out on my bed, with all my belongings scattered around it.

It's a mess. I can't bring myself to pack anything inside the suitcase. I continue to stare at it. Questions run nonstop in my head. Is this the right decision? Returning there? The place I fought so hard to escape, only to come back?

I place clothes inside the suitcase—undergarments, shirts, pants, socks—only to remove them again. Put them in, take them out. Repeat. A heavy sensation in my chest makes it difficult to breathe. My fingers tremble as I hold onto the sweater Asnid gave me for Christmas last year. I shouldn't be affected by returning there. I shouldn't feel like this. It's been three years. Shouldn't three years be enough?

"I already booked the flights," Asnid opens the door but stops her sentence once she sees the state of my room. "Why are you crying?" She asks, wrapping her arms around me. I didn't even notice that I was crying until she pointed it out. I bury my head into her shirt and let myself sob and cry.

"Let it all out, Vers," Her voice is gentle and soft. Her touch is as gentle as her voice. She runs her fingers through my hair, untangling the knots. Minutes later, I finally calm myself down, but Asnid never stops her calming and gentle touches. My breathing starts to regulate back to normal, and I can think properly now. "Are you okay now?" She asks me, and I nod, feeling myself brush against her now wet shirt. "Do you want me to help you pack?" I nod again.

She waits for me to release myself from the hug before helping me pack. While packing, I can sense that she wants to ask me why I was crying but hesitates to do so. "I just remembered something, Asnid. I'm fine," I assure her as I pack my toiletries in the pouch of my suitcase.

I know she doesn't believe it, but she still chooses not to ask anymore. Even after three years of knowing each other, I have never opened up about what happened before we met. I could never bring myself to talk about it. I wasn't protecting her; I was protecting myself. As soon as the clock hits five, we are done. "I'll go make dinner," Asnid kisses my cheek before leaving my room. With my suitcase packed and the plane tickets already taken care of, I have nothing else to do now. I put on my headphones and play music.

The whole night is a complete blur, even the morning at the airport. The only thing I can remember is Asnid and I meeting up with Nash at the airport. Now, all three of us are sitting in business class, courtesy of Nash. Thank you, Nash.

"I bet the people we're going to meet will be big shots. I hope they aren't those mean rich people," Asnid says. Who's telling her that they are? Oh wait, I should be the one to answer that.

"Don't get your hopes up, Asnid," I tell her. "They might be those rich mean people," Asnid sighs in disappointment. After that, Asnid falls asleep. I never really liked airplanes. They aren't exactly comfortable enough to make me sleep or enjoy the flight. So, as much as possible, I never wanted to fly to places in or out of the country.

A few more uncomfortable hours later, we finally arrive in Texas. Nash helps with carrying our suitcases and loading them into the car. "I'm nervous," Asnid announces, her leg shaking. "Calm down," I say, placing my hand on her knee to stop her from shaking.

The car ride is short and quiet. For the first time on the whole trip, I fell asleep in the car. I guess that's why I thought it was quiet and short. "Verity, you need to wake up, we're here," Nash says, shaking me to wake up. I give him a sleepy nod before rubbing my eyes.

I can feel the luggage being unloaded from the trunk. When my body is awake enough, I decide to get out of the car and help with the luggage.

I take my suitcase and one of Asnid's carry-ons and follow Nash inside. The Hawthorne House. Where most of my happiest and worst memories were created. I feel a swirling feeling in my stomach. I hate it. This place makes me remember all the memories I want to forget. Every corner of this place is haunted by memories. From the gates to the rooms. The stairs, the gardens, the portrait, and the ceilings. All haunted by a memory, not even 3 years, could make me forget.

"Home already, Nash?" I hear someone ask. The voice is familiar. I raise my head and see a tall man in front of us. 6'0? 6'2? "Hi, Xan," His face is no longer filled with confusion but with happiness and surprise. "Verity!" He runs towards me and wraps his arms around my small figure. He has to crouch down a bit to reach my small height. "You're taller now," I tell him once he has placed me down on the floor. "And you've shrunk!" He is still cheerful.

"Hey!" I protest and smack him on the arm. "No hugs for me?" I look to the side and see Jameson. I open my arms, and he happily walks over to me and spins me around. "Jamie!"

"What's going on?"

Jameson places me down on the floor. I feel my smile falter when I see who the owner of the voice is. Grayson Hawthorne.

He looks the same. Tall, blonde, with piercing, cold eyes that could make you do whatever he wants you to do. The same eyes I once fell in love with. Maybe still in love with.

"Hi, Gray," I send him a small smile but receive nothing back. Nothing but hatred and anger swirling in his grey eyes. "What are you doing here?"

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berystraw · 29 days

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ITS A ROUGH DRAFT SO ITS NOT THAT GOOD YET! BUT SPOILERS!!!

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berystraw · 29 days

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I PROMISE YALL GRAYSON WOULD MAKE AN APPEARANCE ON THE NEXT CHAPTER I PROMISE

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berystraw · 30 days

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Love Leaves Scars: The Wild West

[L.L.S Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [G.H Masterlist]

Warning: None

Pairing: Oc!Reader × Grayson Hawthorne

W.C: 1.2k

It has been a few weeks since Tobias visited my home, and he hasn't returned since. I'm relieved that he hasn't. That evening, I found it difficult to hold back my tears. What made it worse was discovering the letter he left behind. Like the previous one, I tore it into pieces and discarded it. I refuse to read it and be manipulated by him once again.

Right now, I'm sitting in class, pretending to listen to whatever the teacher is talking about. Images of finding Tobias Hawthorne in my living room keep flashing in my mind, making it challenging to focus on anything. I glance at the clock nailed to the wall above the whiteboard. Thirty minutes until 1 o'clock. Just thirty more minutes until lunch.

"Attention, Ms. Rosewood. Please come to the Principal's office," a woman's voice announces over the speaker.

All the students' attention, as well as the teacher's, shifts toward me. I notice the teacher stops talking and puts down his marker. "Miss Rosewood," he calls out, grabbing my attention. I start to hear everyone else whispering to each other. I close my notebook, grab my backpack, and walk out of the door.

Being called to the principal's office is a rare occurrence for me. I try to maintain a low profile and stay out of trouble as much as possible. Having the last name Rosewood already attracts enough attention—I don't need any more of it.

The hallways are mostly empty, except for some students transitioning between classes. Most stare, while others pay no mind to me. The principal's office is located at the end of the hall. Before I know it, I'm standing in front of the door. I feel the cold doorknob in my hand, take a deep breath, exhale, and twist the knob, opening the door.

As I step into the room, a blast of cold air from the air conditioner hits me. The walls are entirely white, devoid of any other color. It resembles a doctor's office to me. Cushioned chairs are arranged along the side, and two chairs are placed in front of the principal's desk. However, the principal is absent. In the meantime, I decide to make myself comfortable.

I let my eyes wander around the room. There's a picture of the principal's family sitting on his desk. His gold-plated name shines on the desk, indicating his meticulous cleaning habits. A bookshelf occupies the left corner of his office, filled with books mostly from 19th-century authors and biographies of unfamiliar people. I spend a few minutes in the silence, patiently waiting for the principal.

Then, I hear the lock on the door click open. I stand up and turn, ready to greet the principal in our school's traditional way. "Good after—" I stop mid-sentence. My eyes widen, and my body freezes as I stare at the person standing before me. I can't move or even breathe. It's as if some kind of magic has immobilized me. All I can do is stare in shock. And the reason? Standing next to Mr. Harlow is none other than Nash Westbrook Hawthorne, the eldest grandson of Tobias Hawthorne, wearing his stupid cowboy hat.

"Miss Rosewood, will you just stare at me and my visitor all day long?" Mr. Harlow says, snapping me out of my trance. I shake my head and continue what I was about to say. "Good afternoon, Mr. Harlow and visitor," I say, leaning forward to give them a bow. Bowing while greeting is one of the traditions at Red Crest International College. "Good afternoon to you too, Miss Rosewood," Mr. Harlow replies before gesturing for Nash and me to sit down. He walks behind his desk, takes a seat, folds his hands, and leans slightly forward.

"I've been wanting to speak to Verity alone, Principal Harlow," Nash says in his thick Texas accent. Mr. Harlow appears somewhat surprised, but he quickly covers it up with a cough. It seems being kicked out of his office does not excite him. "Very well, Mr. Hawthorne. You may see me when you are finished," he says, then slowly exits the room. I continue staring forward, not acknowledging Mr. Harlow or Nash. We both hear the doorknob click, indicating Mr. Harlow has left the office.

Nash waits for about 30 seconds before speaking up. "How are—" he begins, but I quickly cut him off. "What are you doing here?" I ask, my tone harsh, and I notice him flinch from my peripheral vision. I still refuse to look directly at him. He remains silent, likely expecting another verbal blow. "If you're going to ask me to come home, I won't do it. So save your breath and leave," I tell him. "I can't do that," he replies. "There's nothing a Hawthorne can't do."For the first time since we sat down, I turned to Nash. His soft brown eyes were already fixed on me, pleading for my attention. "The old man's dead, Verity," he revealed.

I was taken aback. No remorse or sadness washed over me. Perhaps deep down, they lingered, but I refused to acknowledge them. Tobias Hawthorne didn't deserve my tears not my pity. "My condolences, Nash. To your family as well. If that's all you've come to say, then you've said it. Now, please, leave me be." I stood up abruptly, snatching my bag. I was ready to walk out, but Nash seized my wrist.

"You need to come home," he insisted once more, his grip firm.

"I will never return there," I snapped, wrenching my wrist free and striding toward the door. Just as I reached for the doorknob, Nash's voice pierced the air again. "Your name is written on the will. We can't decipher it unless everyone's present," he revealed.

His words ignited a fire within me. All the anger and hatred I had suppressed since laying eyes on him now erupted. "You want me to come home for your ludicrous will reading? So you can inherit billions from that madman?" I shouted, my bag crashing to the floor as I confronted Nash head-on. "You are as selfish and arrogant as your grandfather," I sneered, my finger jabbing at his chest.

Our faces were mere inches apart, and through his eyes, I saw my reflection—a visage filled with anger. The anger wasn't reflected in his eyes, but in my own. I resembled my mother. The woman I swore not to become. Yet here I am.

I stepped back, maintaining the distance between us. Nash continued to gaze at me, his eyes still soft, filled with concern and worry. He reached out to hold my hand, but I recoiled, refusing to let his touch affect me. "I have no interest in the money," he assured me, his voice gentle. He wanted me to believe that the inheritance or any wealth he might acquire wasn't the reason behind his plea. "You'll only be there for the will reading, and once it's done, you can go home. I promise to shield you from any further disruptions," he vowed. I looked up at him, searching for sincerity.

"Besides, you're not the only non-Hawthorne —except for the Laughlins and Oren—named in the will," Nash revealed, and my curiosity was piqued. Why would Tobias Hawthorne name an outsider in his will? "Who else?" I inquired.

"A girl named Avery Kylie Grambs."

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