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this question prob relates to later in the story/plot but is there ever a time where scott gets drunk or something and is like a little afraid to call gray to pick him up and ethan’s not around, so he calls cora to pick him up?
Before Scott headed out to the Halloween party happening at Jasmine’s house with his friends, Grayson cornered him and had one specific order: “no alcohol.”
Which made Scott roll his eyes. Because clearly, he was 15. There would be no alcohol. But it was also his first ever high school party, which meant, of course, there was alcohol. And he figured one jello shot wouldn’t do anything to him. Just like he figured the second wouldn’t wouldn’t do anything to him.
And then Jules dared him to chug a beer and Scott doesn’t back down from a dare.
Which left this little werewolf, drunk, and nauseous, and his mind muddled. Jules had passed out on jasmines couch somewhere. His other friends were too drunk to bike home, and Scott tried, but found his hand eye coordination greatly impacted.
So he has a few options. Becuase if he called Grayson right now, he’d get his ass handed to him. And honestly he was feeling the guilt weighing him down at the thought that he’s somehow disappoint his dad by beinf stupid and getting drunk at his first party.
He could call his uncle Ethan, but Ethan was in Los Angeles, working the Halloween horror nights event considering they were a huge client of a his. Kiki and Maggie had gone to Maggie’s moms house for Halloween.
He was too embarrassed to call his grandmother. So it boiled down to one person, which had him chewing his lip as he considered dialing her contact. It was late. there was a trunk or treat event at the elementary school, and he wondered if it was still going on.
He ended up calling her, swaying on the sidewalk until he saw that old Volkswagon bug driving up. Cora’s trunk for the event was wizard of oz themed, so she was still dressed in her Dorothy costume, and almost seemed like she was picking up a highly intoxicated Toto.
“Scotty,” she said, rolling her window down.
“Cora,” he exhaled, plopping down into the passenger seat. “Thanks for getting me.”
Cora just nodded. She didn’t say anything about how he reeked of alcohol, or how he was completely out of it. Or how he burped and exhaled. All she said was, “should I roll the window down?”
“Yeah, thanks,” he hoped he wouldn’t have to puke in his dads girlfriends car right now.
It was quiet. And kind of awkward. Scott finally sighed. “Is my dad at your house?”
“No. He’s at Ryan’s.”
“Can I crash?”
Cora bit her lip. “You’re putting me in a rough spot here, kiddo.”
Scott huffed. “I didn’t— think—“
“I get it. I’m glad you called me and didn’t bike home.”
“Shit, my bike—“
“I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”
“Your dad told you—“
“I know. I know what he said. I just—“ he sighed. “I didn’t want to be the idiot that said no.”
Cora nodded, chewing her lip. Scott was quiet again, guilty. He swallowed. “Please let me crash. I’ll talk to my dad in the morning.”
“Scotty—“
“Fuck—“
Cora pulled over in time for Scott to throw himself out of the car to puke in the bushes. He groaned as the nausea wrecked him, and suddenly felt Cora’s hand on his back. She sighed. “Let’s get you home, babe.”
She took him to the cottage. Where she had some of Graysons things he’d left last time he stayed over. “Don’t lock the door when you shower.”
He looked at her. Cora rolled her eyes. “I’ve passed out in my fair share of showers, kiddos. And I’ve hurt myself too. Be careful.”
He nodded. And he understood what she meant. He caught himself a few times under the water from falling asleep and falling over.
He stumbled out with another groan, he thought he might puke again. He swallowed when he found Cora setting up the couch for him. “Where’s Eleanor?”
“Having a sleepover at Emily’s. I’d offer you her bed, but she’s pretty tiny.”
“I’ll pass on the princess bed.” He fell on for he couch, and then groaned at the vertigo. Cora chuckled.
“It’s not as fun as the movies make it look, huh?”
“Fuckin sucks.” Scott exhaled. “My dads gonna kill me.”
“He might,” she sighed, sitting with him.
“There goes my Friendsgiving trip to six flags.”
Cora smiled, and tucked him in gently. “I’ll talk to him. I can’t promise he’ll let you go, but I’ll explain that you were just being stupid, and that the hangover you had was punishment enough.”
“Hangover?” He repeated, horrified.
“Oh yeah, you might actually have to drink coffee tomorrow,” she chuckled. “It’s gonna kill you.”
“Fuck.”
“Sleep for now, hon,” she kissed his head. “You’ve got a long morning ahead.”
He groaned, closing his eyes and tryinf to orient himself as the room spun. He caught her hand when she stood up, and swallowed. “Cor?”
“Yeah Scott?”
“Can you... sing to me?” He blushed when it came out. He didn’t mean to ask her.
Cora blinked, and then smiled. She nodded, and sat with him, pushing his hair out of his eyes. He fell asleep to her singing voice, and for a second, pretended she was his mom, even if it wouldn’t remember most of it in the morning.
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Grayson was the one to take nessas v card? why’s that really sweet🥺
They had been dating for two and a half months when Grayson deflowered Vanessa. In the weeks leading up to it, Grayson could tell she was slowly becoming ready: growing more comfortable being naked with him and relaxing more when he would give her oral. Grayson never pushed the issue, never wanting to pressure her or hasten her personal journey. Vanessa wordlessly recognized this, knowing that it was entirely her decision.
tw: smut
//
It was a Saturday night in early December, the kind of the night where the warm, cinnamon scented air of Grayson’s apartment provided a cozy shelter from the brisk winds and light snow flurries dancing around the night sky. The kind of day that Gray and Ness spent practicing, doing homework, and watching a movie before eventually melting into Grayson’s sheet with hot kisses and gentle moans.
Vanessa’s fingertips teased Grayson’s hips when they started to gently tug the edge of his shirt. He smirked into their kisses, sliding his tongue against her bottom lip before pulling back. He adored the wanton look in her eyes when he asked, “Something the matter?”
Vanessa pressed the tip of her tongue against the inside of her cheek, squinting her eyes slightly. She grabbed handfuls of Grayson’s shirt and tugged again, more forcefully that time. “Can you take it off?” she mewed. Her squinted eyes softened into an innocent look, “For me?”
Grayson chuckled, bringing his hands around to lay on her ass from where she straddled him, “For you?” He smirked smugly and Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Anything for you,” he whispered and leaned forward to kiss her quickly before pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the side of his bed.
Each time Vanessa saw Grayson shirtless, she was washed with the same blood pumping feeling that she felt the first time. She delicately traced her fingers along the ridges of his abs, feeling her mouth go slightly dry before licking her lips. Her breath was hot. Grayson looked down, watching her fingertips drag against his skin. His eyes met her mouth, he felt himself come undone at the sight of her tongue slide against her lips.
He lifted his head up and trapped her lips in a sloppy, wet kiss where his tongue danced on top of hers while she reached forward with both hands and dragged them along his muscles. His skin was hot to her touch. Grayson reached his arms around her, pulling her down and on top of him as he groaned softly into their kiss. Ness could feel his erection grow under her hips.
Grayson’s erection was the first man’s penis Nessa had ever met: even if it was only through clothes. It intimidated her, made her core shake when she thought about what it could do to her. In the past few weeks, she had grown accustomed to the feeling of his length pressing against her through his shorts; it became familiar to her, comforting in an erotic way.
Ness was settling her hips against the growth in his pants when Grayson reached his hands into her shirt, quickly palming her bra. Grayson pulled away from their sloppy kiss to pout, bulging his bottom lip, and giving her a distinctive set of puppy dog eyes as he tugged on the edge of her shirt, “Please,” he begged, “For me.”
Ness giggled, shaking her head softly while she lifted her shirt off and gently tossed it on the floor. “Hmm,” Grayson smiled softly, palming the cups of her bra. He reached a gentle hand around her neck and pulled her downward so her lips could meet his. Ness met his kiss, making it a slow and loving one. She giggled against his mouth when she felt the clasp of her bra open under Grayson’s hands.
Grayson smiled brightly as he pulled her bra from her body and started to palm her breasts, rubbing his fingers against her nipples and loving watching them harden into little buds under his fingers, “You’re so beautiful,” he looked at her eyes, “All of you.” He kissed her again, loving the soft feeling of her hair swooping down to cover the side of his face.
Ness smiled, blushing softly. She slipped her fingers under the waist band of his shorts, running her palms against his length and taking him in her hands through his boxers.
“Fuck,” Grayson groaned in between her lips.
Ness smirked, softly biting at Grayson’s bottom lip. They had replayed this scenario dozens of times in the past few weeks. One time, they went as far as Grayson taking his length out to let her inspect: an encounter that was more cute and funny than it was sexual or erotic. Something about provoking this reaction out of Grayson made Vanessa feel powerful in a deeply feminine way.
She rubbed his length against her palms a few times before pulling down his shorts, leaving only his boxers. Grayson reached forward, cupping her ass in his hands and leaning upward to kiss her but felt rejected when he noticed her move her head in the other direction, “Something wrong baby?”
Ness took a deep breath. She closed her eyes to inhale. The sight worried Grayson, who was concerned that he had pushed her too far or suggested something she wasn’t comfortable with. He couldn’t stop his expression from reading surprised when she said, “I think-“ she chewed at her bottom lip, “I think I’m ready-uhm-“ she took another breath, “Can we—have sex?”
Grayson’s eyes opened wide. He didn’t think about the answer when he started nodding his head, “Are you sure?”
Ness nodded, “I’m sure.” She swallowed. “It’s going to hurt, right?” She confirmed what he had previously told her in their conversations about intimacy.
Grayson’s tongue brushed against his bottom lip, “I’ll be gentle.” He pulled her down into a sweet kiss, he cupped the sides of her face in his hands and brushed his thumb against her cheek. His lips peeled off hers and pressed gently against her forehead. Nessa closed her eyes and smiled, feeling comforted and warm inside of his arms.
“It’ll help-“ Grayson started, “If I,” his eyes pointed toward her hips, “If I go down on you- It’ll help it go in…easier.” He brushed his thumb against her cheek again. Ness nodded, “Okay.” She smiled softly and kissed his cheek before started to take off her shorts and throw them on the floor.
Before this day, Grayson was also the first man to ever run his tongue against Nessa’s folds. At first, Ness found the sensation weird and odd in a way that puzzled her. After a few sessions, she had grown to love the way Grayson could expertly drive her to the brink of madness in less than ten minutes. Grayson loved seeing her sweet eyes fill with something dark, as he felt her walls pulse against his lips. Grayson’s tongue haunted Nessa in her dreams at night, in a way that nothing else had before.
So when Grayson suggested using his mouth to lubricate her, Nessa was more than willing to lean back on his bed while he perched his head between her thighs. He kissed the inside of her thighs, running his large, warm hands on her soft skin. He bent his head down and kissed her center once before moving his lips to her clit. He kissed her there, pressing his puckered mouth against her little bundle of nerves. He flicked his tongue against it, smirking when he felt Nessa’s body shudder underneath him. He looked up to see her mouth hanging open while she tightly grabbed a fist full of his pillowcase. He flicked his tongue again before licking against her length, leaving her pussy shiny from the wetness of his tongue.
“Gray-oh fuck-fuck-fuuucck Gray!” Ness squealed from underneath him, starting to lift her upper body from the bed when she felt a tight knot of nerves start to build in her core. Grayson responded by sucking on her clit, making a humming noise as he brought his face close to her center. He made a wet sound when his lips let go of her clit and he started lapping her folds. He reached his tongue inside of her center. She responded by knotting her fingers in his hair, pulling on his head, “Gray- oh-please, please Gray- please”. Her begging sounded like music to his ears as he moved a hand to draw circles on her clit while he continued to caress her with his tongue. She felt a heat build in her core, strengthening as the invisible knot inside of her tightened before they both exploded as she tugged roughly on Grayson’s hair, feeling her thighs tremor from around his head, as her pussy started to pulse against his mouth.
Vanessa was breathing hard, mewing softly when she opened her eyes to see the bottom half of Grayson’s face decorated in a wet sheen. He roughly wiped a hand against his face. Her breathing hitched, “Why?—Why did I?” she looked down, “If we were—”
Grayson reached a handout, to gently caress the side of her face. He brushed some of the hair out of her face. In direct opposition to her breathy mewes, his voice was steady, “I didn’t know if you were going to,” he gave a small shrug, “Doesn’t always happen the first time and I-I wanted to make sure you enjoyed it.” He swallowed and gave her a sincere look, “Are you sure Nessie?”
She nodded with his hand still cupped around her face, “I want it. I want it to be with you,” she brought a hand to hold onto his fingers from where they laid on her face, “You.”
Grayson placed a single, sweet kiss on her lips before pulling away. He reached into his nightstand to grab a latex condom in a bright green foil. He shimmied out of his boxers and stretched the condom over his length. Vanessa watched his every movement, swallowing to wet her dry mouth. Putting on a condom looked complicated to her. The entire experience intimidating her, making her palms go sweaty and her fingers shake.
Grayson started to line himself up with her core when she spoke. He pulled back instantly, ready to retreat if it was what she wanted.
“Hey Gray,” she spoke quietly.
“Yeah Ness?”
“I’m really glad it’s with you, I-I’m really glad I have you.” Her words sounded shaky at the end.
Grayson reached out to hold Nessa’s hand in his, “I’m really glad I have you too, Nessie.”
They shared a moment of looking into each other’s eyes, about to pass the point of no return.
“You ready?” Grayson primed.
She nodded and took a deep breath, “Yeah.” Her voice was only a whisper.
Grayson moved at a deliciously slow pace, savoring every moment as he steadily pushed his length inside of her. Ness winced in a sharp breath, feeling something like a stinging stretch surround her core. She folded her face, groaning slightly while Grayson quietly coached, “Almost there baby- I can stop if you want. Tell me to stop if you need it baby.”
Nessa exhaled deeply when Grayson stopped pushing, finally done inching his sizable length inside of her. He kissed her sweetly on her forehead, “How do you feel?”
“It’s getting better,” Ness commented, feeling the sting subside slightly. She looked down to see where there hips connected, the idea that a part of Grayson was inside of her blew her mind.
They stayed like that, Grayson inside of her but not moving. His kissed her temples sweetly. His body emanated a warmth onto Nessa’s body.
“Can we stay like this forever?” Ness commented quietly, “I like having you close to me.”
Grayson smiled and kissed the top of her nose, “I’m not close to you, I’m inside of you.”
Ness giggled softly. She licked her lips, “So-uh-,” she stuttered, “Are you supposed to—” she waved a finger in the air, “Go like? Back and forth?”
Grayson chucked and tilted his head in a small nod, “Are you ready for that?”
Ness responded by wrapped her arms around his back and fixing her hands on his muscular shoulder blades, “Yeah,” she whispered.
Grayson moved gradually, trying to gauge Nessa’s reaction by the way her face folded as he slowly backed half of his length out of her and back into her. Her fingernails dug into his back, “Gray,” she moaned. He exhaled, “You’re so—oh fuck Ness,” he found a rhythm in the slow movement that felt so good he felt every vein pulsate. Nessa started to feel a small bundle of nerves form in her core again: a feeling that competed with the sting. She dug her nails into his back, started to moan for him in the same rhythm that he called out her name.
“Gray- Oh my God-Oh my Go-Gray!”
“Fuck baby, fuck-“ he gritted his teeth.
Ness watched his face fold in an unnatural way and the thought suddenly hit her: Grayson was nearing his climax. “Are-are you gonna?” she asked, suddenly being awaken from the mixture of arousal and pain she had been concentrated on. Grayson twitched his head in a movement that was meant to mimic a nod, grunting, “Yeah-I’m- fuuuck, can I-?”
Ness swallowed and bit the corner of her mouth, feeling alien in this situation. In a moment of courage, she grabbed onto his shoulders, digging her nails in further into his skin and bringing her lips up to his ear, “Yes baby, please baby, please cum for me babe, I want to make you do it- do it for me baby, please Gray,” she mewed, “For me Gray.”
“Ness!” Grayson called out before falling into a limp mass on top of her chest. His breathing hitched for a moment as he collected himself. She wrapped her arms around him, started to stroke the side of his ear and play with his hair.
He looked up at her, “How do you feel?” His voice sounded like a flat tire.
Ness exhaled, “It kinda hurts, is it supposed to?”
Grayson nodded, “Yeah, it will for a little while. I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry.” He kissed her head.
Before Ness could continue the conversation, he pulled his length out of her and went to the trash can to discard the condom. On his way there, she noticed the long, thin, red lines that graced his back.
“Gray!”
He turned, startled by her reaction.
“Was that?” she started, “Did I do that to you?”
Grayson chuckled with a knowing look on his face, “Don’t worry about it angel.”
He laid next to her, wrapping her in his arms. He pulled a throw blanket on top of them, carefully setting the fluff down on top of her to cover all of Nessa’s body. He kissed the top of her head when she looked up to ask him, “How was I? Was I-was I good?”
Grayson nodded slowly, “Amazing, wonderful.” He kissed the top of her head again, “You’re everything I could have ever wanted Ness.” She smiled and brought her body closer to him. He decorated her head, face, and neck with tiny, loving kisses. Grayson whispered into her ear as she leaned her head against his shoulder. He rubbed her back, “You’re an angel Ness, an absolute angel.”
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If Grayson could categorize himself anything, it would be a “well-intentioned” reader.
No, that doesn't mean he reads, but he’s got the intention. He’d like to, if only had had a) the time, b) the attention-span, and c) the patience for it. In theory, curling up by the fire with a good book sounds great, but usually ends in him getting distracted or just falling asleep.
Audiobooks are probably the way to go.
That doesn’t stop him from coming into Street Corner Books every week and making a purchase, though. It’s a new establishment, literally on the street corner of your small town, and for your parents, it was a huge dream to open up a quaint little secondhand bookstore in town, even if it wouldn’t rival Amazon or bigger industries.
“We have what they don’t have,” your father would say. Then he’d go on and on about the homey, small town bookstore feel, where you could smell the pages as soon as you walked in, and every book you picked up had history and life in the worn out pages. Dedications, secret notes, annotations. There was something charming about a book that was loved on well.
With all that charm, and half-priced books, not many people actually came in to buy the books. What bigger companies had in advantage was the ease of searching and shipping, whereas a trip to Street Corner was designed for exploration and adventure. The patrons that did stop by included your fair share of teens who liked the aesthetic of the store as a background to their instagrams, one or two literary fans, Joey, who usually stopped by for your mother’s homebaked blueberry muffins, and Grayson.
Who stood out like a sore thumb whenever he’d step into the store. For some reason or another, he always managed to knock his head against the wind chimes your mother kept by the door to announce new customers. You could never decide if he was just big, or if the store was just designed small. But he always seemed to be in the way, with his broad shoulders taking up most of the walkspaces. He’d often find himself sidestepping or pressing back against bookshelves to let others through, pursing his lips in an awkward smile and a low apology. HIs eyes always found yours behind the register, endlessly amused by him. It was a weekly game of trying to guess why Grayson Dolan, star of the varsity football team, closest thing to a celebrity, and farthest thing from a book nerd, was doing in your family book store.
The funniest part of all of it is that he never bought actual books, but little trinkets. Your parents had various friends with creative side-gigs that they contracted with in order to sell their “one of a kind” things along the store. Miss. Miller’s recycled metal animal keychains; Mrs. Johnson’s crocheted scarves and gloves; Mr. Luca’s wooden carved statues.
Your eyes followed Grayson now as he wandered through the store. Same path as always. Back towards the chimney in the back to warm up from the cold, around through literary classics, a quick peek into the children’s collection, where he’d poke at the brain teaser games and smile down at the alphabet rug, cutting right through romances, pausing for a moment to pick up the same book in the poetry section before setting it down and continuing until his fingers would grasp at a trinket and he’d be at the register. If your mom was around, she’d offer him a muffin that he’d decline because they weren’t vegan, and she’d promise to find a vegan recipe one day. He would always just smile at her and shake his head.
“You don’t have to, really. Thank you, though.”
And then he’d be in front of you. Not making eye contact right away, just pushing over whatever he’d picked out. Today, it was a pack of poker chips recycled from old coke bottle caps. You smiled up at him, taking the opportunity of his eyes being lowered to appreciate the way his hair was falling onto his forehead instead of it’s usual brush back. His lashes were long and dark, his lips shiny with the lip balm he’d bought last week. You’d warned him about the cold and dry lips. You chuckle. “Hey gray.”
“Hey,” he said, fishing his wallet out of his coat. He still didn’t look at you, much to focused fumbling the cash he had to pay.
You two didn’t talk much. Classic circles that didn’t overlap at school. But he’d somehow stumbled his way into your AP English Literature class, sitting right behind you, always tugging on your hood during peer review to make sure you were the only one who graded his stuff.
“I’m not good at this,” he’d whisper to you with a sheepish smile and glittering hazel eyes. “Go easy on me.”
You never did. But he liked the criticism. Even the teacher noted his writing improving, even if he always refused to read his stuff out loud and would rather participate in open discussions he could spark notes instead of actually reciting from the text.
Outside the classroom, you barely saw one another. Him and Ethan were pretty much pegged for getting signed at the end of the year, and aside from practice, playing football, and hanging out with friends, you’d heard that they mostly just helped Lisa out at the house. Your mother had supplied her floral contacts when Ethan had called asking where he could get lavender sprigs, and your dad had lent them a few wheelbarrows.
So it was school, or his weekly wander through the store. Where he was quiet and awkward and so different from the loud, reckless guy he was when he wasn’t alone.
He fumbles with a few coins and drops them on the counter. Both of you hurry to catch them before they roll off, chuckling as your fingers brush. He’s cold from outside still, and you see the callouses on his hands from all the physical labor he does.
“Fuck, sorry,” he muttered.
“NO worries,” you told him easily. You held up the poker chips he was buying and raised an eyebrow. “DIdn’t take you for a card player.”
He finally looked at you. “Huh?” He glanced at the chips and blinked, swallowing hard. “Oh,” he chuckled. “Yeah. Uh.. they’re just cool, I guess.”
“Right.” You finished ringing him up, and packaged them up for him. “Hows your mom doing?”
“Oh, she’s great.” He nodded. “Garden’s all frozen over right now, though.”
“I figured.”
“We weren’t expecting snow this early.”
“I know.”
“How’s…” he glanced over to where your mom was reorganizing the bookmarks. “Your dad?”
“Feeling better. Surgery went okay.”
“Awesome.”
There it was. That awkward silence that hung between you in the time between him handing you the cash and finishing off the sale. He stared at you with dark eyes, his lips slightly parted, and you just smiled at him. You liked this side of him, better than the one you saw at school. The shy part, the clumsy part. He looked like he wanted to tel you something. He always looked like he wanted to tell you something. But then he cleared his throat, and crossed his arms, nearly taking out another customer who was trying to get by. He flinched, apologized, and leaned forward against the register to let her through, closer to you, while you laughed behind your hand.
His face softened, and for some reason or another that gave him the courage he needed.
“My mom’s throwing this party at this house this weekend,” he said. “It’s for the salon. Like a winter formal thing. She’s gonna auction off these new products or whatever.”
You nodded. “Nice.”
“Do you… wanna come?”
You looked up at him. Whether it’s the cold or not, his face wasn’t as red as it was now when he came in. You bit your lip, your own face burning. “Like, a date?”
He scoffed, but then stopped and gave you this goofy smile as he pushed his hair back and shrugged. “Well I ean— yeah— yeah, like a date. You and me. Yeah. Like a plus one, sort of… You don’t have to buy anything or auction anything off you can just like— hang. With me? And eat. And E, he’ll be there too. If it’s—“
“Gray.”
“Yeah.”
“How long have you been trying to ask me to this party?”
His shoulders slumped with his breath, and he actually laughed. “Like two months.”
You grinned. “And all those trinkets—“
“Literally just looking for an excuse to come in here.”
You shook your head, and reached over the register to grab his coat. He grinned when you yanked him down to kiss him quickly, winking at him once you left him go and he swung back with a dazed smile. “I’d love to be your plus one date thing to your mom’s-winter-party-formal-raffle-salon-whatever-thing.”
He beamed at you, still dizzy from the kiss. “Awesome.”
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