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[never-enough-books-ever]

Mine and only

Avery x Jameson

A/n: I will tell you guys beforehand that I'm writing after a veryyyy long time and I have never written between charecters so this is gonna be absolute shit so heed all warnings. I had this idea for god knows how long and today was finally my day off so I wanted to get it down with🙏🙏

ALL COMMENTS, REBLOGS AND LIKES ARE APPRECIATED

Guys pls tell me what you think I'm scared

Tags: im just tagging random people I accidentally deleted my taglist so if you want to be removed or added pls let me know

@x-liv25-jamieswife @f4iry-bell @wish-i-were-heather @lanterns-and-daydreams @reminiscentreader @lyra-kane @jkriordanverse @shuhuaspookie @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable @nonerrata-myarchives @thelov3lybookworm

Avery pov

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Jameson asked suddenly, breaking me out of my thought process. I was looking at him like that because I was realising how much in love I was with him but he didn't need to know that. It would inflate his ego far too much

“Nothing. I just spaced out” I tell him. We were planning the riddles and the next games of the grandest game together when I just spaced out. I was thinking of a way to surprise him because he had been too restless lately, more so than usual.

Jameson had been tapping a pen against the table, a rhythm too quick to be casual, his restless energy filling the room. He didn’t notice when Nash strolled in, humming Lover under his breath, but I did. It was an innocent enough moment—Nash probably didn’t realize he’d just handed me the perfect idea.

Jameson needed a distraction, something out of the ordinary, and I had just the idea.

“Back in five,” I told him, standing abruptly.

Jameson tilted his head, his sharp green eyes narrowing in curiosity. “And here I thought we were deep in the throes of game planning.”

“We are,” I said, grabbing my phone as I walked out. “I just had an epiphany.”

I didn’t give him a chance to ask more questions, slipping into the hallway and shooting a quick message to Xander:

Need your help. Candlelight dinner. Karaoke. Don’t ask. Just be discreet

The reply came almost instantly:

I live for this level of chaos. Consider me in. Do we need fire extinguishers?

Hopefully not. But, knowing us, maybe bring one.

Xander: I’ll bring 2:)

With Xander on board, I got to work. The kitchen staff didn’t bat an eye when I asked for their help setting up a private candlelit dinner in one of Hawthorne House’s more intimate dining rooms.

By the time everything was ready, the dining room glowed with a golden light, candles flickering across the pristine tablecloth. The theater room, just down the hall, waited for its big moment.

Now came the tricky part: getting Jameson there without ruining the surprise.

I found him exactly where I’d left him, still flipping through a notebook of potential riddles for the Grandest Game. His knee was bouncing slightly—a telltale sign of his restlessness.

“Come with me,” I said, leaning against the doorframe.

He glanced up, his brow quirking in suspicion. “Where to?”

“You’ll see.”

“Do I need to solve a puzzle first?” he asked, his grin teasing but curious.

“Not this time,” I replied, offering him my hand. “Just trust me.”

He stood, his gaze flickering with intrigue, and took my hand without hesitation. I led him through the hallways, my heart pounding with equal parts excitement and nerves. Jameson was a master at unraveling surprises—would he figure it out before we even got there?

The moment we entered the candlelit dining room, he stopped short. His eyes swept over the table, the soft glow of the candles reflected in his pupils.

“Avery,” he said, his voice low and almost reverent. “What is this?”

“A distraction,” I admitted. “You’ve been restless lately, and I thought…” I trailed off, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his gaze.

He turned to me, his expression unreadable. “You thought what?”

“That you could use a break,” I said, forcing myself to meet his eyes. “A little fun. No riddles, no games. Just… this, us.”

“It’s perfect,” he said softly, while smiling.

Dinner was a quiet affair, filled with easy conversation and the occasional teasing remark from Jameson, but there was an undercurrent of anticipation. He didn’t know about the next part yet, and I couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

After the last of the dishes had been cleared, I stood and offered him my hand again. “We’re not done.”

“There’s more?” His grin was back, sharp and eager. “You’re spoiling me, Heiress.”

I led him down the hall to the theater room, pushing the door open with a flourish. The soft glow of the LED stars greeted us, and Jameson’s eyes lit up as he took in the karaoke setup.

“Karaoke?” he said, his tone somewhere between surprise and delight. “Avery Kylie Grambs, You’re full of surprises tonight.”

“Not just any karaoke,” I clarified, motioning for him to sit on the oversized couch positioned perfectly in front of the makeshift stage. “This one’s for you.”

Before he could process what I meant, I grabbed the microphone, queued up the song, and stepped into the spotlight.

The piano intro to Taylor Swift’s “London Boy” began to play. Jameson leaned forward, his lips parting in disbelief as my voice filled the room.

“I love my London boy…”

I couldn’t help but grin at his reaction. He looked equal parts amused and astonished, his trademark smirk softening into something warmer, something unguarded.

As I sang, I poured everything into the performance—every playful tease, every bit of affection I couldn’t quite put into words. I twirled, I gestured, and I even managed a wink that made Jameson chuckle out loud.

“Oh, I fancy you…”

As the song went on, I felt myself relax, reveling in the way Jameson watched me, his gaze never wavering. When the final line faded into silence, I let the microphone drop to my side, my heart pounding.

Jameson stood and crossed the room in a few swift strides. “That,” he said, his voice low and filled with something I couldn’t quite place, “was the most ridiculous, over-the-top, utterly perfect thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“Even better than your puzzles?” I teased, trying to mask my nerves.

He didn’t answer, not with words. Instead, he stepped closer, his hand brushing mine. “Thank you,” he said, his tone soft and sincere. “For knowing exactly what I needed, even when I didn’t.”

I smiled up at him, feeling a warmth spread through me. “You’re welcome, Hawthorne. Now, are you going to sing, or am I the only one embarrassing myself tonight?”

“Oh, Heiress.” His grin returned, mischievous and full of life. “You should know by now—I never back down from a challenge.”

And just like that, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne grabbed the microphone, ready to turn the night into a duet of chaos and laughter.

[never-enough-books-ever]

Drink or Dare

Fandom: The Inheritance Games

Ship: N/A

Summary: Takes place during the game of Drink or Dare played in the treehouse in The Brothers Hawthorne. My take on how they managed to get a smiley face on Grayson's tummy during the game.

“No,” Grayson grits through clenched teeth, but his brothers can see the glint in his eyes, he's nervous.  “Absolutely not.”

Drink or Dare had always been a bit embarrassing, a bit vulnerable and silly. It’s an even playing ground for the Hawthorne boys, a way for them to get some semblance of real vulnerability from each other. So far, the dares hadn’t been too bad, at least not on Grayson’s end, but he figured his brothers were working their way up, there’s no way they’d go easy on him the entire time. 

After Xander was made to create a Rube Goldberg machine just to slap his own ass, and Nash chose to eat a piece of his cowboy hat instead of drinking the toxic slurry the brothers had made as the alternative option, Grayson figured the embarrassment and silliness would soon target him. His brothers were here to take his mind off of things after all, and Hawthornes have always been partial to believing that embarrassment could be a great distractor. 

“You know the game, little brother,” Nash says in his smooth, Texan timbre. How he’s the only Hawthorne brother with the signature Southern drawl is beyond Grayson, but the authority in his voice still sends a shiver down his spine, and the way his laid back demeanor lends itself to teasing his brothers.

“This is juvenile,” Grayson shirks, avoiding eye contact with all of his brothers, glancing shiftily around the treehouse. 

“I’d expect nothing more from a Hawthorne Drink or Dare,” Jameson remarks, signature lazy smirk on his face. He keeps capping and uncapping the Sharpie, the click-click-click working up Grayson’s nerves.

“Okay Mr. Broody McBrooderson, we’ve known that you’re crazy ticklish since, like, birth, basically. So why don’t you just let us draw you a new face? That, or my newest Hawthorne patented concoction is all yours to savour.” Xander buzzes, reaching out to poke Grayson in the side, to which he recoils so violently that he practically ends up in Nash’s lap. Nash offers Grayson no favours, and he digs into his younger brother’s ribs with two clawed hands. 

“Nash! No! Nahahash, stop it!” Grayson yells, trying to keep his normal edge of authority in his voice, his cool demeanor cracks with every knowing wiggle to his sensitive ribs. He starts to squirm away, nearly a mess already from Nash’s short row, and Xander, adding his teasing fingers to the mix, gets him begging embarrassingly quick. “Fuhuck! Okay! Ohohokay!”

“Begging for mercy already, little brother?” Nash teases, withdrawing his fingers from Grayson’s ribs and ruffling his brother's hair. Grayson huffs out of his nose and shakes his head out of Nash’s grip, batting away Xander’s lingering fingers.

“What will it be, Gray?” Jameson asks, grinning from across their makeshift circle. 

Grayson glares in Jameson’s direction, and sneaks a look at the grotesque mixture he can choose to drink as an alternative to his brothers’ silly dare. The “liquid” is a strange, mildewy colour, a terrible concoction of ketchup, A1 sauce, hot sauce, milk, and lemonade. It bubbles and curdles at the top, unendingly since Xander added the final ingredients to it more than an hour prior, and it’s enough to convince Grayson that maybe, just maybe, the dare would be more bearable. 

“Fine, but this is still a childish dare,” Grayson gripes while he begins unbuttoning his silky white dress shirt, revealing the white tank top beneath it. He grimaces at the feeling of cold air over his torso as he strips the tank top too. 

“Lay down,” Jameson demands, smirking at his brother, reaching out to grab the Sharpie he had placed on the floor. He’s on his knees quick, approaching the other side of the circle to kneel above Grayson. 

“Am I gonna have to hold ya down, Gray?” Nash asks, looming over Grayson with a far too pleased look on his face.

“I’m not five, Nash, I can stay still for a stupid dare.” 

“Something tells me that you’re going to regret that attitude,” Nash teases, kneeling at his brother’s side in case Jameson needs some help finishing the job.

“Alright, Gray,” Xander starts with a smile, a face of pure glee at the possibility of seeing his brother laugh for once, “this might tickle.”

Jameson uncaps the Sharpie, and brings it down slowly to Grayson’s skin, the anticipation making his older brother squirm. When the tip finally touches down on Grayson’s belly, he gasps, and curls completely into a ball, pushing the Sharpie away.

“Grayson, bud, I know you can do better than that sorry excuse for staying still.”

Grayson blushes bright red, and he hates that the embarrassment of it makes him blush even more. Its mortifying. He brings his hands up to cover his face, groaning in a rare display of vocal frustration.

Jameson takes this as the opportunity that it is and brings the marker down again to work on the eye of the smiley face he’s drawing. 

Grayson screeches, hands thrown down to protect him from the tickly, wet ink of the permanent marker, and Jameson levels him with a bored look. The reversed roles, Grayson acting out and Jameson responding with a bored indignation, flusters Grayson even more. He’s trying to get ahold of his expressions again when Nash grabs both of Grayson’s wrists in one of his hands, hauling them above his head.

“I warned ya, Gray,” Nash teases, nodding at Jameson to continue. 

Jameson tries to finish the first straight line he had started for the smiley face’s eye, dragging the Sharpie from under Grayson’s pec to the bottom of his ribs, but his older brother’s squirming, and the huffy, aborted giggles he’s letting out, distract from the attempted masterpiece. Grayson even starts bringing his legs up in an attempt to block his brother from continuing. 

“Xan, some help, please?” Jameson asks with a mischievous wink. Xander nods like an excited puppy before climbing on top of their brother’s legs, effectively pinning him so Jameson can have unrestricted access. 

“Wait! I’ll drink,” Grayson tries to reason, while Xander makes finger wiggling motions in his direction, making him dizzy with restrained laughter and anticipation. 

“No can do, Gray,” Jameson snorts, “you already chose your fate.”

“Them’s the rules!” Xander exclaims. 

This time, when Jameson’s marker makes its inevitable descent, there’s nothing Grayson can do but accept the giggles that are pouring out of him, the thought of the tickly feeling making him giddy even before the marker can touch down. When it finally does, Grayson snorts, throwing his head back into Nash’s knees, a smile creeping up that threatens to split his face.

Jameson is able to finish the first eye this time, despite Grayson’s wigglyness, and he gets halfway through the second when Grayson squeals, the Sharpie hitting a sensitive spot on his ribs. Jameson, always the troublemaker, presses down with the marker, wiggling it around in the same spot, going over the first half of the second eye again and again. 

“Ja-Jahahamie! Mercy, plehehease!” Grayson screeches, pulling desperately at his arms in hopes that Nash will show him some mercy. He’s been tickled absolutely silly by his brothers many times before, but something about this time is so flustering. Maybe it’s because it isn’t really supposed to tickle, or because he’s trained himself to be completely serious all of the time, or maybe even the stress with Gigi and Savannah. Whatever it is, it makes the Sharpie tickle a hundred times more.

“It’s a wonder you’re this ticklish and alive, Gray,” Nash teases, but he can’t help his own smile at his normally serious brother giggling himself silly. 

Grayson’s blush sits high on his cheeks, creeping up his ears, but there’s nothing he can do but take the silly torture. His giggles are high-pitched and bubbly, forcing out a playfulness he hasn’t experienced in ages. 

“JAMEHESON!” Grayson shouts, snorting through his laughter when Jameson begins to use the canvas of Grayson’s tummy as the location of the smiley face’s mouth. The repeated back and forth motion sends Grayson into a flurry of snorts and squeals, only egged on by Jameson deciding that the face should have a tongue exactly where Grayson’s belly button is. 

While Jameson fills in the tongue he drew with the marker, Grayson screams so shrill and panicked that it shocks him into stopping. When Grayson keeps squealing and shrieking, tears of mirth in the corners of his eyes, Jameson grins down at him, lopsided. “Gray, I’m not even doing anything.”

“Oh,” Xander says, and Nash and Jameson both look his way, “that might be my bad.” Xander’s fingers are going to town on Grayson’s socked feet, and Grayson is laughing so hard that it’s coming out in wheezes, hiccuping for breath.

“Pl-p-puhuhlehehease! Cahahan’t! Gohohonna die!” Grayson begs, too weak to wiggle or pull for escape.

Just before Jameson can bring the marker back down to Grayson’s tummy, Nash’s voice, in his designated Big Brother Tone, cuts through the air, “alright, alright, kid’s had enough.” 

Jameson snickers, and Xander makes a vaguely disappointed noise before backing off of Grayson. Once he’s free, he curls up into a ball, stray giggles and wheezes leaving him breathless still. Nash can’t help but reach out to ruffle his little brother’s hair again.

“Thahat was hehell,” Grayson sputters, but the smile on his face has yet to go away.

“Could’ve been worse,” Xander says, “it could’ve been a Rube Goldberg machine to slap your own ass.”

[never-enough-books-ever]

Light And Shadow

Grayson x reader

A/n: I had this request for so long and I was procrastinating A LOT and then I got busy with college

Tagging: @reminiscentreader @off-to-the-r4ces @x-liv25-jamieswife @charsoamerican @f4iry-bell lemme know if you wanna be removed or added:))

Comments and reblogs are appreciated <33

The storm was raging outside, and you were sitting with your favourite book in hand and coffee in another. There was comforting silence that was occasionally broken with a loud thunder outside. Grayson knew about your fear about the dark and though it was not that dark yet, he always liked to be in your presence, working or not. Though it was not the case this time.

Suddenly, a loud crack of thunder echoed through the house, followed by a flash of lightning. The lights flickered once, twice, and then went out completely. The house was plunged into darkness. It was pitch dark silence. You felt your heart race as you felt the shadows were closing in on you, your fear started to come back ten fold

"Grayson?" you called out, your voice trembling. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. The silent was oppressive, and it was as if your breathing was too loud and your heart was beating too fast. You knew if Grayson could come find you, he would. Each second felt like an eternity.

Just as you were about to call out again, you heard footsteps. Grayson's calm, measured steps. Relief washed over you, and you felt a bit of the fear dissipate.

"Love?" His voice was gentle but firm, and you felt yourself beathing again . "I'm here," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. You felt him sit next to you and pull yourself to him, hugging you. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

"I don't like the dark," you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed. Grayson squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. "I know. I'm here now."

He guided you to the bed, sitting beside you. You could feel his presence, his warmth, and it made the darkness a little less frightening.

You leaned into him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was a stark contrast to your own racing pulse, and it helped you calm down. The storm continued to rage outside, but inside, with Grayson beside you, the fear seemed to fade.

"Let's find some light," Gray suggested, his voice a gentle rumble. He kept one arm securely around you as he reached for his phone with the other, using the flashlight to see through the darkness.

The flashlight was a small comfort, but it was enough. Gray lied down next to you, his hand never leaving yours. He started to tell you stories to distract —amusing anecdotes from his childhood, his brothers childhood shenanigans, anything to keep your mind off the dark.

You listened, letting his voice wrap around you like a cocoon. His presence was a balm to your nerves, and slowly but surely, the fear began to recede.

After a while, the power came back on with a soft hum, the lights flickering to life. You let out a shaky breath of relief, feeling the tension leave your body.

Grayson turned off the flashlight and set his phone aside, but he didn't let go of your hand. "Better?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern and love.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Better. Thank you, Gray. "He returned your smile, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "Anytime”, he said while pressing a kiss to the top of your head, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. “And if the dark ever gets too much, just remember—I'm here. Always”. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "I know.” Knowing in your heart that it was true

[never-enough-books-ever]

TIG CHARECTERS IF THEY WENT TO SEE INSIDE OUT 2

Tw: spoiler(?), mention of panic attack

Tagging: @reminiscentreader @off-to-the-r4ces @x-liv25-jamieswife @banilikesfictionalpeople @charsoamerican @xoxo-lenah @f4iry-bell

A/n: I had this idea in my head ever since I saw the movie with my friends but I was procrastinating a lot so here I am:)) let me know if you want to be added to the tags or removed.

reblogs and likes are appreciated <333

• So avery, xander and max were big fans of inside out 2 since it was first released.

• All of them had a watch party of the first movie a day before the second one got released.

• They roped the whole family in to watch the movie

• And actually everyone wanted to watch but grayson needed some persuasion

• ALL OF THEM DRESSED AS DIFFERENT EMOTIONS JEKEKEKEKEKE I did that with my friends and it was sooo fun

• They did that one trend where you do " this is me before the movie and this is me after "

• Avery dressed as embarrassment, jameson as sadness I low-key ship them

• Grayson as ennui (idk he just gives the vibe) and he would just wear a plain purple suit still hot though

• Xander as anger and max as disgust ( they're friendship goals😮‍💨)

• Nash as joy and libby as fear( she just added her own charm to the dress and wore a whole black chocker and stuff and a bit of purple)

• They watched the movie at the hawthorne theater( don't ask me how, ask them she's literally a billionaire)

• During the anxiety attack scene in the movie( if you've seen it) all of them are at least a bit teary eyes and grayson cried but silently and jameson was sitting next to him and just held his hand and they never said anything about it but he knows he appreciated his help

• They all ABSOLUTELY HATED ANXIETY AND SO DID I

This is it for now:))

[never-enough-books-ever]

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[never-enough-books-ever]

Hold me if you can

Grayson x reader

Angst/comfort

Trigger warnings: there isn't anything much but overthinking I guess??

A/n: I was sitting on this for such a long time cause I got into a writing slump but I like actually like this one

Tagging: @lanterns-and-daydreams @shuhuaspookie @hearthown @reminiscentreader @f4iry-bell lemme know if you wanna be removed it added

The house was eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of the wind against the curtains. I was lying in bed next to Grayson, his breathing the only sound in the room. It was well past midnight, but sleep wasn’t coming easily this time .

It was one of those days again. Where every single bad thing which everyone had ever said came in and out of my head. Usually I would be able to handle it and distract myself but this time it was not possible. The weight of it all felt too much, with my throat closing up, my eyes burning , and tears began to well up in my eyes.

I went outside my room so I didn’t disturb Grayson, hoping that he continues to sleep and doesn’t come find me. I quickly went to the living room and sat in the corner of the room and pulling my knees to my chest let the tears fall freely. Sometimes it was better to let my emotions out than stifle them but this time my tears weren’t stopping.

Lost in my head, I couldn’t hear Grayson’s footsteps enter the room. "Love?" His voice was soft, filled with concern. "What are you doing up?"

I quickly wiped my tears, trying to compose myself. "Nothing Gray," I said, my voice shaky. "Go back to bed. I'm fine."

He stepped closer, his eyes searching my face. "You're not fine," he said gently while holding my face in his palms. "Talk to me sweetheart. What's going on?"

The dam broke, and I couldn't hold back any longer. "I just... I feel like I'm not enough," I admitted. "Like everything which everyone has said to me just rushed into my head and then I started overthinking and that maybe they were right and I’m not a nice person and you deserve better than me. I'm scared, Gray. I'm scared of not being good enough for you. I'm afraid that one day, you'll realize you made a mistake being with me. That you'll see all my flaws and decide you deserve better."

Grayson's expression softened, and he closed the distance between us, wrapping his arms around me, his warmth grounding me to earth. "Hey," he murmured, holding me close. "You are more than enough. You belong here, and you belong with me. I love you, Y/N. and anyone who knows you, knows that you’re the most amazing person in the world and people who say otherwise need a reality check and are idiots."

I chuckle while wiping the remnants of my tears. Grayson smiled softly and kissed my forehead. "Sweetheart, listen to me," he said firmly. "I love you. I chose you because of who you are, not despite it. Your flaws, your strengths, everything about you makes you the person I fell in love with. I don't want perfect. I want you. You are everything to me. Don’t let anyone or yourself think otherwise.

"I don't know how to shake these feelings," I said quietly. "Sometimes its easier to handle but I don’t know what happened today"

Grayson pulled back slightly, saying “It’s good to let your emotions out love, but please let me help you through it. You don’t have to be alone”

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. "Thank you for being here and for helping me."

"Always," he said softly. "Now, let's get you back to bed. You need rest, and we'll tackle whatever comes our way in the morning."

Helping me to my feet, and we made our way back to the bedroom. As we climbed into bed, Grayson wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my ear was a soothing lullaby, and I felt a sense of safety and belonging, helping me drift off to sleep.