#Jameson hawthorne fluff

[inmyheaddd]

late to the party - jameson hawthorne x reader

a/n: little jameson blurb while i work on requests 🤭 i hope u enjoy!! summary: jameson very inconsiderately interrupts your ootd, coming up from behind you and kissing you all over wc: 624 masterlist

after 2 long hours, you had finally finished getting ready for an event you were going to. today, you truly did feel beautiful. 

you set up your phone to film a little “outfit of the day” video, pressing the record button and taking a few steps back from the camera. 

through the small phone screen, you saw your boyfriend jameson open the door and enter your room, causing you to turn around briefly, smiling at him. you felt your heart flutter as you took in his appearance — his suit tailored to perfection, tie matching your dress, and his fingers adorned with a ring or two. 

“anyway,” you addressed the camera with a flustered chuckle, “these are my heels today, and my…”

you continued your outfit check, of course, with jameson simply standing next to you now with the most lovesick gaze. it made you feel all fluttery and you stumbled on a word or two — and if that wasn’t enough, he very rudely interrupted you. 

he didn’t exactly say anything to cut you off, but with moving to stand behind you, and wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you from behind, what did he expect?

a laugh fell past your lips as you turned your head to look at him, “what are you doing?”

he hummed lowly in response, muttering compliments into your ears. he swayed you gently side to side before he started peppering your neck with kisses. they were so featherlight, they felt like tickles. 

giggling and not breaking away from jameson, you blindly reached for your phone and pushed it face down. you turned to face him now, wrapping both arms around his neck as his hands found your lower back.

“jameson,” you managed to get out between breathless laughs as he continued to attack your neck, walking the both of you backwards until your back hit the mattress. 

you kicked off your heels and he crawled ontop of you, a mischievous grin of his own on his face, before finally pressing a kiss to your lips.

yes, he smudged a lot of your lipstick off, yes, you’d have to reapply later, and yes, you were probably going to be late to the event. but it was definitely worth it. 

you cradled his face with your hands as you pressed short kisses to his lips, and there were endless small, breathless, laughs coming from the both of you time whole time. 

much to the both of your dismay’s, breathing was not an optional choice, so jameson pulled back, laying flat on his back and catching his breath as you did the same.

you turned your head to look at him, a faux pout on your lips as you looked at him.

“i can’t post that video now.” you mumbled.

he chuckled breathlessly and turned his head to look at you, another one of those grins on his face from earlier, one you’d never get tired of. “why not?” he quipped back, “i don’t see a problem with it.” 

his tongue poked the inside of his cheek, laughing as he saw you roll your eyes jokingly. “right, because everyone would just love to see me get ambushed by my obsessed boyfriend.”

he laughed once again, “… i mean,” he trailed off “i would.” he said, pursing his lips and shrugging, not denying the ‘obsessed’ title you jokingly gave him.

this time you couldn’t hold back the giggle that threatened to escape, “shut up,” you said, attempting to hide your flushed state. you sat up and put your heels back on, and jameson stood up, smoothing a hand over his suit jacket. “we’re going to be so late.” you continued.

“fashionably late,” he offered, as you fixed your lipstick in the mirror. he just leaned back against the wall, watching you with that same lovesick grin.

he would be late to every event, if it meant having you like this. and even with all your sarcastic remarks and eye rolls, you’d let him mess up your makeup any day.

and that grin of his just told you he knew that fact all too well.

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @sweetlikeanangel @littlemissmentallyunstable

@anintellectualintellectual @bewitchingkisses @maybxlle @sheisntyou

@emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee

[jahayla-parker]

Rebellious Rivals : Jameson Hawthorne x Reader

Descr: 3.2k wc, Jameson is determined to help his longtime ‘rival’ learn how to let go and relax, will he get his way? Flirty, enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, unspoken crush(es), fluff.

Warnings: flirty Jameson, suggestive content, implications of smut but NO actual smut, light drinking, bets, I think that’s all

“Look at you, you're just begging for someone to put you in your place,” Jameson chimed in as he sauntered onto the balcony. He let his eyes wander her body momentarily before he caught her gaze. She’d clearly dressed for the occasion as was expected of her, but her presence anywhere but the dining hall showed her faint rebellious side. As did the drink in her hand and the way she was standing far too close to the edge of the balcony.

"And you think you can handle that?” Y/n retorted with a scoff. She shook her head, taking another sip of her champagne. “You're cute. I could have you on your knees in a heartbeat. It would suit you."

"You think about that image a lot?" Jameson implored with a smug grin.

"What?! No. God!.. Don’t flatter yourself. You bought it up." Y/n huffed, making Jameson chuckle. She glared at him sharply. She took a big drink of her beverage when he raised his hands up with pretend innocence.

“I can't help it, you're fun to mess with,” Jameson murmured, walking closer. He took a swig of his own drink as he leaned against the wall to her right.

“What do you want?” She asked, voice dripping with annoyance. She’d been enjoying her escape from the rich snobs down the hall. But of course, Jameson Hawthorne just had to show up and ruin it. The way he always did. She turned to fully face him for the first time since he arrived, only for her eyes to quickly take in his appearance. His suit jacket was unbuttoned immodestly far down, the familiar scar of his slightly peaking out past the low collar. She was one of the few people who actually knew how he obtained it. Not because they were friends. But because she’d commented on it with an unintentional backhanded remark, meaning to simply call him out on his carelessness, only to learn the truth of the mark’s origins. That had been the first time she considered there might be actual depth to Jameson Winchester Hawthorne. Something beyond his riches, smug attitude, and dangerously good looks. As such, despite both Grayson and Alisa warning her not to trust, much less fall for, a Hawthorne the sight was somewhat comforting. The fact Jameson somehow nearly always wore a low cut shirt, or no shirt at all, whenever she was around made the sight familiar and the meaning behind the scar made her feel oddly more comfortable around him. Even if the sight of his toned bare chest made her heart flutter in a way she truly despised.

“Would you like me to whisper it in your ear?" Jameson questioned flirtatiously. His honey-coated voice bringing her thoughts back to the present moment.

She groaned, tossing back the rest of her drink. “Go away Jameson,” she ordered weakly. She walked away from him and back into the attached empty room, sitting on the unnecessarily expensive couch.

“Where would the fun be in that?” He remarked rhetorically as he plopped down beside her. He chuckled to himself as he watched her glare at him before lowering herself onto the floor. Once she’d settled on lying down on the ground instead of remaining beside him on the couch, he smirked. “I don’t bite”.

Y/n glanced up at him. “I don’t believe that,” she sassed, lifting her arms out in front of her as she lay flat on the wooden floor in front of him. She turned her eyes away from him and towards her phone as she reviewed her calendar for tomorrow.

Jameson’s eyes took on a playful glow as he shrugged, nudging her with his dress shoe. “Well, unless you’re wanting me to,” he winked down at her.

Her heart sped up against her will yet again. The same way it had moments before when he’d teasingly suggested she wanted him in his knees. The same way it always did whenever he’d flirt with her like this. Her stupid heart always acted against her logic. Jameson was just playing her. Besides, he was everything she despised, wasn’t he? Hoping to brush off his insinuation before her face flushed, she glared over at him briefly before turning back to her phone as she continued to hold it up above her.

Jameson took note of the slight pink hue her cheeks took on at his latest flirtation. He suppressed an amused laugh. He leaned down and stole her phone from her hands.

“Jameson!” She shouted, abruptly pushing herself off the floor and standing before him.

“Princess, if you’re wanting to scream my name, there are far more enjoyable things we can do to make that happen,” Jameson winked, sliding her phone into his back pocket.

She huffed, arms crossed over her chest. The way the action made Jameson’s eyes flash towards her cleavage made her even more annoyed. “Phone,” she commanded, holding her hand out to him, “now”.

Jameson rose from the couch, silently nearing her. “Tell you what, let’s make a bet,” he suggested.

“Why would I do that?”

“You want your phone back, don’t you?”

“What’s the bet Hawthorne?”

Jameson grinned proudly. “Well, if you’re still against making a bet, you could instead finally admit your feelings for me-“

"I feel nothing for you. Absolutely nothing!" Y/n scoffed loudly. Her eyes narrowed at him as her heart beat rapidly in her chest.

"Is that so?" Jameson inquired, his tone audibly amused.

"Yep. Nothing,” she repeated, her irritation growing with his amusement. Why was everything a game to him?!

Jameson took one slow deliberate step towards her, a smirk on his face.

She swallowed thickly but held her ground, refusing to back away from him.

He laughed lightly at her reaction. "Relax princess, l am not going to jump on you." "Not until you ask me to anyway,” he hummed, grabbing her hand.

Y/n yanked her hand away from his. “Explain the terms of your bet or I’ll track down your brother and tell him you’ve stolen my phone,” she stated firmly. Why wasn’t she just doing that now? Why was she even entertaining Jameson by considering his bet?

Jameson chuckled. “Admit your, feelings for me,” he repeated, holding his pointer finger over her lips to silence her. His posture stiffened as he tried not to give in to how soft and kissable her lips felt against his skin. “Or,” he emphasized, beginning to lay out the terms of the bet. “You come with me, escape this egotistical party for a bit and go along with my rebellious acts,” he smirked, teasingly referring to his actions the way she often did. “And, if you still hate me at the end of the night, you’ll get your phone back.”

“And if I don’t?” She hesitated.

“Is that something you’re worried about Princess?” Jameson asked, cocking his right eyebrow.

She shot him another glare despite the fact her heart was beating uncontrollably. “There’s always another side to your bets,” she answered.

Jameson hummed. “If you don’t end up hating me, maybe you’ll get something else out of the night.”

“What else?”

He debated about teasing her as to why she was so concerned with this outcome. But, his nervous energy had grown due to their closeness and her willingness to go along with his bet instead of turning him in to Grayson for having taken her phone. He’d hoped tonight he’d be able to show her just how fun being “rebellious” could be. He hoped she’d be able to let herself relax some. But he couldn’t deny that he hoped something more would possibly start to form come tonight as well. “We’ll just have to see, hmm,” he answered vaguely, taking her hand and leading her to the door.

Jameson smiled to himself as he watched y/n screaming gleefully as she glided through the air. Her legs were crossed to keep her dress from exposing anything but was otherwise relaxed. As she landed before him, her zip line coming to an end, he approached to help her unhook herself from the harness.

Y/n breathed heavily as she tried to catch her breath, the adrenaline having knocked the wind out of her. She gleamed up at Jameson, her eyes shining. Maybe his rebellious side had its perks after all. Maybe Jameson had his moments. She’d never felt this free in her life.

“Ready for our next act of rebellion?” Jameson forced himself to ask despite finding himself all too content to stay in this moment longer, his hands rested on her biceps as she caught her breath, smiling at him. That radiant smile of hers that always took his breath away. However, the look of excitement and anticipation in her eyes in response to his question, made his heart beat madly.

Y/n giggled as she tried to fix her hair. Jameson had taken her for a ride on his motorcycle, utilizing a patch of open driving space The Hawthorne House had. She knew given it was private property there was no true speed limit, but she was fairly certain they’d still gone over it somehow.

Jameson gently moved a few stray hairs off of her face and back to their usual places, smiling widely.

Y/n found herself nearly leaning into his touch. She quickly stepped back and slapped his hand, making him lower it to his side. However, neither of their grins left their faces.

Jameson chuckled at her behavior, “come on, night’s still young”. He took her hand and tugged her towards the house.

Y/n’s phone rang out as midnight struck. Jameson moved his hand from where it was resting on her waist, having been showing her how to hit the golf ball properly, but his other hand remained. He slid it into his back pocket and pulled out the device. He dismissed the alarm. “Seems my time is up,” he spoke softly, moving his arm back around her, bringing her phone to the open space between her stomach and the golf club in offering.

Y/n closed her eyes momentarily. She sighed quietly as she let go of the golf club, letting it drop to the rooftop under her feet. She hesitantly spun to face him, painfully aware of the way his tender fingers moved with her but kept their hold on her hips. “I don't hate you," her voice barely audible as she found herself pressed against his chest. “I never hated you,” she confessed.

"I know Princess," he murmured, his arms moving behind her and tightening around her.

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with uncertainty and fear. Fear for what this confession would mean after tonight. Fear for what he might do with such information. "But, I should hate you," she remarked. Jameson was practically everything she hated about wealth, excessive spending on needless things, full of cockiness and ego.. but something about him was just… different. She’d noticed it before… but tonight was the first night she’d let herself indulge in these conflicting thoughts.

"You should," Jameson agreed. He delicately held her face in his hands, eyes burning with intensity. “And it makes me the luckiest bastard in the world that you can't manage to," he rasped.

They stared at one another in silence, the moonlight shining down on them as they instinctively leaned closer to each other.

Jameson’s voice was soft, sincere, and slightly nervous as he asked, “can I kiss you?”

The respectful question, his pleading gaze, and kissable lips, had y/n leaning in without responding. She closed her eyes as his warm lips met hers, her hands finding their way to his face.

“This changes nothing, I’m still going to beat you at bowling,” y/n remarked breathily once their lips parted.

Jameson’s wickedly handsome grin returned. “You can try, Princess,” he said, eyes aglow. “Up the ante?” He proposed, teasingly stroking her cheek with his ring finger.

“How so?”

His grin shifted into a smirk. “A Hawthorne classic adaptation,” he began. He let his eyes roam over her frame suggestively before adding, “strip bowling”. Having noticed the way her breath hitched, Jameson squeezed her hand. “It’s okay if you’re not up to it Princess,” he said sincerely, but also unable to not toy with her competitive streak.

“If you feel like stripping for me, so be it,” she shrugged, her smirk making Jameson’s own smirk grow.

"You are, without a doubt, the most obnoxious person I’ve ever crossed paths with,” y/n remarked, glaring at Jameson over her shoulder as her ball rolled into the gutter due to him making noises as she tried to bowl.

Jameson chuckled, “I’m not sure what you’re referring to Princess”.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she walked back to where he was. “And don't even get me started on the sound of your voice,” she muttered.

“Mmm that sounds fun though,” he argued, lips pressed against her ear as he intentionally brushed up against her when reaching for his bowling ball.

Y/n turned around, ready to tell him off. However, his warm breath hitting her skin and the way his bare chest rose and fell with each breath, and his honeyed voice echoing in her head won out. She aggressively gripped his belt loops and pulled him to her. She crashed her lips into his, eyes closing as his arms roamed her body.

Jameson’s lips found their way to her neck, leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses in their wake. He smirked against her skin as she let out a pleased hum. He kept his lips in place, knowingly having found her sweet spot and began sucking lightly.

Y/n’s hands blindly searched for Jameson’s waistband. She felt him slightly jump at her touch, fueling her desire further.

“You know, my clothes are supposed to come off only if I lose,” he teased breathlessly as he moved his lips up to meet hers.

Y/n abruptly pulled away, her hands dropping to her sides. She felt like crying as she watched the way his lips chased hers. He was really trying to convince her, wasn’t he? “This…-,” she sniffed, stepping back as she shook her head in frustrated disbelief.

“Princess?” Jameson asked. His voice taking a tone the nickname hadn’t worn when leaning his mouth before; uncertainty and worry.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” she laughed humorously. Backing up until her butt hit the bowling ball return. “This is all just a game, isn’t it?”

“What?” Jameson questioned, his brain struggling to adjust to the sudden change.

“I’m just something for you to win, the one thing you didn’t have yet. This was all just you trying to get me to let go so you could win some sick game-”.

“Woah, woah, no,” Jameson promised as he moved closer. “Princess,” he sighed. It made sense she’d reach that conclusion. Even if it couldn’t be farther from the truth. He wanted this. Wanted her, more than anything. “Y/n, no,” he vowed, his tone deeply sincere. “For once in my life, this isn’t a game. Teasing you, sure, but not in the way you think.” He offered a small appreciative smile when she didn’t back away from his touch as he went to cup her cheek. “Yes, I’ve been wanting you to let go and hoped tonight would help you do that,” he confessed, “but not because I see you as a game, something to figure out or win.. But because I can see what this lifestyle is doing to you, you deserve better, you deserve to live”.

“And… this…” She whispered timidly.

“Us?”

“Is there really an us?” She asked, voice cracking, betrayingly exposing her heart’s fears.

Jameson’s gaze was warm and tender as he stroked her cheek. “That’s up to you. I’d love for there to be, Princess,” he confessed. “But that’s your call to make.”

“This isn’t a game..? Or some rebellious act of yours to get at your brother?”

He firmly shook his head. “No games,” he promised, squeezing her cheek. “I’m afraid I’m always rebellious, darling, but this, is real.”

Y/n stared at Jameson silently for a moment; analyzing his tone, words, and body language. Grayson’s and Alisa’s warnings played in her mind. But, she couldn’t deny the way she felt. She lifted her eyes to meet Jameson’s patient ones, “kiss me”.

“Is that an order, Princess?” Jameson chuckled with a smirk. However, his cockiness melted away when she simply raised her brow at him in expectation. He immediately caved in and leaned down to her again.

Jameson smiled softly as y/n’s eyes flittered open. He watched with slight fear as everything came back to her. Had she regretted it? However, his nerves subsided as she her laid her head against his bare chest and mumbled a shy good morning. He chuckled, brushing hair from her face lovingly. He couldn’t help the grin that took over his face when she gazed up at him sweetly instead of hitting his hand away from her as she’d done before. “Morning Princess,” he greeted.

Before she had the chance to respond, Jameson’s brother, Grayson’s, voice could be heard echoing through the hallway outside the bedroom door. She looked up at Jameson as they both tried to make out what the older Hawthorne was shouting. “What did you do?” She teased with a grin.

“You wound me,” Jameson scoffed playfully, holding a hand over his heart dramatically.

“Jameson!” Grayson’s angry voice shouted, audibly closer than before. He was clearly headed this way; to Jameson’s room. “Y/n was supposed to be at the foundation two hours ago but she wasn’t.”

Jameson barely had time to teasingly raise his brow at her over the unexpected rebellion. He tried not to chuckle at the way she cringed slightly, clearly having spaced on the responsibility.

“She was last seen with you!” Grayson’s scolding continued, the bedroom door being thrown open loudly. “What did you-“

Upon hearing the door with the wall as it opened, Jameson promptly ensured she was covered modestly with his comforter. “I’d say she’s still able to be seen with me,” he shrugged grinning down at her. He winked at her to silently reassure her this wasn’t part of his plans.

Y/n caught onto the reasoning behind Jameson’s wink. But she already knew he had nothing to do with this. At least not intentionally. She’d only made the plans with Grayson via text last night just before having been interrupted by Jameson who she’d then spent the night with. He had no way of knowing about the plans. She was pleasantly surprised to find herself lacking the normal nauseating guilt that came with acting so “irresponsibly”. But last night had changed her, for the better. She would still attend to her responsibilities, but she didn’t have to be so rigid about it anymore. Jameson taught her that. Her thoughts returning to the moment, she playfully smacked Jameson’s bare chest over his comment, making him chuckle and pull her to him.

“I…” Grayson gaped. “You let him corrupt you?”

Jameson laughed loudly at the likely unintended double entendre.

Y/n rolled her eyes at Grayson’s words. “He’s not that bad,” she defended.

“That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said about me, Princess,” Jameson grinned, earning another smack to his chest as Grayson grumpily left the room.

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[wildesqdreams]

ok so hear me out…. laser tag with jameson but you two are getting super competitive and it turns into a wager of some sort? (the loser has to do smthing embarrassing that the winner decides, etc) and you two are just tryna distract each other the entire time

thank you 🩵🩵🩵

laser tag

pairing - jameson hawthorne x fem!reader.

summary - playing a game with a hawthorne doesn't always go as planned, even when you're playing against your boyfriend. especially then!

navigation | masterlist | request | taglist

warnings - none, just jameson being a sneaky bitch.

a/n: i'm really sorry for not writing this sooner and for being inactive. i didn't include the wager thing because no ideas came to mind for that, but this is what i came up with. so enjoy!

this was supposed to be fun. a fun date. a getaway. but when you're dating a hawthorne, nothing can come without competition. especially if your boyfriend is jameson motherfucking hawthorne.

y/n let out another frustrated sigh when she turned around a corner and heard the sound signalizing that the girl was shot. her eyes raised, and in front of her, jameson was grinning with his stupid smirk.

"now that was the third one," the boy approached her, "two more for me, but you still haven't gotten me. not once," he stopped in front of her.

she opened her mouth, ready to state how this is her second time and how he has done this multiple times, but jameson beat her to it, "gotta catch up, baby," and with a cocky grin he went away preparing for the next match.

it wasn't even her lack of experience. she really did enjoy things like this, and she wasn't bad, but jameson was more skilled and really annoying when he got competitive. with a groan, she went to her side, ready to continue the game.

as the alarm rang starting the new match, y/n started slowly walking around from obstacle to obstacle. they were playing in the dark, so there were neon lights everywhere, making the environment more beautiful, but also scary because it was harder to spot your opponent.

the girl found an okay spot behind a neon blue obstacle. she peaked behind it and looked around, trying to be careful and figure where to go next. maybe her problem was being too cautious, but if she started running around, she would probably trip over her own feet, that way getting shot.

"i'm starting to think that you don't quite understand the game," her body tensed when she felt something press against her back. a gun if she had to state the obvious answer. goosebumps appeared on her skin when she felt his warm breath near her ear, hitting her skin, "you have to be the one shooting, not being shot at for the fourth time now."

she slightly rolled her eyes as she turned around facing jameson. his gun now pressed against her chest, "i had a plan."

"probably a magnificent one."

y/n continued, ignoring his sarcastic tone, "and you haven't shot me for the fourth time yet, so there's no progress for you at the moment."

"well, it wouldn't be quite romantic if i shot my girlfriend, would it?"

"you already did, three times, idiot."

his smirk widened as he leaned closer to her, his hand tugging a hair strand behind her ear, "i deeply apologize for my misbehavior."

"i'm actually starting to despise you."

"with those words being said, i'm already gonna be dead. you won't even have to shoot me," his hand rested at the side of her neck.

a slight chuckle escaped her at his words. y/n's chest filled up with warmth, and a soft smile appeared on her face, "then it's a good thing i'm lying."

"actually, a wonderful thing," he stated before connecting his lips with hers.

the girl smiled into the kiss even more, and the warmth traveled through her body when she felt his hand slide to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. the rush that she felt during the game couldn't compare to the way her body ignited every time his lips met hers. as he slightly deepend the kiss, her hand found the bottom of his shirt, tugging the material between her fingers.

y/n felt him smile against her mouth, as he continued to place kisses along her jaw, whispering against her skin, "you're gorgeous."

her eyes closed as she tilted her head back, resting it against the obstacle behind her. his mouth moved to her exposed neck, "and i love you so much, but," she felt his breath against her ear, "you should keep that pretty head of yours in the game."

her cheeks reddened when she heard the sound of her losing another life again. she groaned and pushed her boyfriend away, "that's not allowed!"

"what exactly?" a stupid grin appeared on his face again, "shooting my opponent in laser tag or kissing my girlfriend?"

"youu-" the girl shook her head as she pulled away from the obstacle, "you are such a cheater! ohh, i just hate you so much," she started walking away, still with tinted cheeks.

jameson laughed, "really? those red cheeks of yours tell a different story."

"oh, fuck off."

the boy was still grinning, "love you, too!"

taglist: @noaboacoa @wiltspring @bookish-swiftie13 @k-pevensie28 @lxvebelle @sheisntyou @mochamvgz @formulalina15

[soulofapatrick]

Enchanted Pages - Jameson Hawthorne x Reader

Summary: Jameson joins you in the Hawthorne estate library

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: none

Notes: I hope the anon requesting Jameson likes this! It was fun to write!!

Y/N's POV

The Hawthorne mansion library is a sanctum of wisdom, a hallowed ground where the scent of aged paper and the soft whisper of turning pages permeate the air. The room is vast, its shelves towering like ancient sentinels guarding the knowledge within. The mahogany bookcases stretch from floor to ceiling, each shelf adorned with leather-bound tomes that seem to hold the secrets of centuries.

I sit settled in a plush armchair, my fingers delicately tracing the embossed spine of a weathered classic. The soft glow of antique lamps casts a warm hue on the room, highlighting the ornate patterns of the Persian rug beneath my feet. The crackling fire in the hearth adds a touch of comfort, its flickering dance a silent companion to the tales contained in the countless volumes that surround me.

My gaze sweeps over the library, absorbing the grandeur of literature that spans genres and eras. Shakespeare stands shoulder to shoulder with Austen, while the poetry of Frost beckons from a distant corner. History whispers from dusty tomes, and the works of philosophers, both ancient and modern, share space on these sacred shelves.

The sheer magnitude of knowledge captivates me, and a sense of awe settles in my chest. Here, in this haven of words, I feel a connection to the countless souls who sought solace, inspiration, and escape within the pages of these books. It's as if each volume holds the echo of the minds that once dared to dream, to question, to imagine.

I had choosen a book at random, its spine cracked but well-loved. As I open its pages, the scent of history mingles with the musky perfume of aged paper. The words transport me to another world, a realm where time is fluid, and reality is shaped by the strokes of a writer's pen.

Before I can really get into it, the rhythmic click of polished shoes on the library's hardwood floor interrupts the quiet symphony of the written word. A familiar scent wafts towards me, a subtle blend of cedarwood and a trace of old books—Jameson's unmistakable fragrance. Without looking up, I feel the magnetic pull of his presence drawing near. The rustle of pages and the soft creak of the chair next to me signal his arrival. Jameson, with his tall and lean silhouette, leans against the bookshelf. His dark eyes, reflecting the wisdom accumulated through countless narratives, are fixed on the pages before me. 

”Finding solace in the tales of the past?" he inquires, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. His voice, a velvety timbre, resonates with the same richness as the literary treasures that surround us. 

I glance up, meeting his gaze, and invite him to join me with a nod. Jameson gracefully moves to the arm of my chair, a place that feels both familiar and intimate. His fingers, cool and elegant, find a stray strand of my hair, wrapping it around his digits absentmindedly. It's a subtle gesture, one that transcends the boundaries of mere physical touch. Each twirl of my hair seems to weave a connection between us, binding us in a shared moment within the tapestry of the library. 

As he sits beside me, the warmth of his presence envelops like the embrace of a well-told story. The characters in the book come to life, their struggles and triumphs mirrored in the unspoken understanding between Jameson and me. The juxtaposition of the fictional world and the reality of his touch creates a beautiful paradox—a seamless blend of imagination and tangible connection.

Jameson's fingers, light as a whisper, move to ghost over my cheek. A shiver courses through me, a response to the delicate caress that seems to bridge the gap between fiction and reality. The characters in the book, once mere ink on paper, now witness a narrative unfolding before them—the story of two souls drawn together by the invisible threads of connection. His touch deepens, his fingers hooking under my chin with a gentle insistence that demands my attention. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he lifts my gaze, and suddenly, I find myself ensnared by his eyes—dark, fathomless pools of green that hold the weight of a thousand stories. Time seems to stretch, and the distance between our faces becomes negligible.

My breath hitches, caught in the delicate dance of anticipation. The paradox of our connection intensifies—the very real presence of Jameson Hawthorne and the fictional worlds we explore converge in this suspended moment. In his eyes, I see reflections of characters who have loved, lost, and found redemption, mirroring the silent tale unfolding between us. 

As our faces draw closer, the boundary between reader and character blurs, and I become a protagonist in a story that transcends the pages of the books that surround us. The library, once a haven of literature, transforms into a stage where the chapters of our own narrative unfold.

In the charged atmosphere of the transformed library, Jameson's voice, low and laden with an emotion I can't quite decipher, breaks the silence. "You don't know what you do to me," he confesses, his words hanging between us like a promise written in invisible ink. His fingers, delicately holding my chin, tighten ever so slightly, an anchor in this moment. In the depth of those fathomless green eyes, I sense vulnerability, a rare glimpse of the man behind the enigmatic exterior. 

The anticipation lingers, and then, with a tenderness that defies the rough edges of his life, Jameson leans in. His lips brush against mine, a touch so gentle it's as if he's unraveling the layers of his guarded self. The kiss is a revelation, a tapestry of emotions woven with threads of longing and a touch of sweetness that catches me off guard. 

I taste the rich complexity of him, a blend of desire and restraint, as if every stolen moment has led to this, a communion of souls beneath the watchful gaze of literary giants. His kiss tells a story—a story of passion restrained, of emotions laid bare in the quiet expanse of a library transformed into a stage for our intimate narrative. 

As our lips continue their passionate dance, each touch becomes a stanza in a poem of desire. The flame ignited by our connection dances through the chambers of my heart, casting a warm glow that reverberates through every beat. In this stolen moment, I become a keeper of Jameson's story, feeling the weight of the untold chapters that reside in the recesses of his being. The dance of tongues is a language of its own, a symphony of whispers and sighs that transcends the limitations of words. In the quiet library, our connection becomes a narrative, written not in ink but in the shared breaths and lingering echoes of our kisses. 

Then, with a tantalising slowness, Jameson pulls away. The separation is a breathless pause, and in that moment, I catch a glimpse of a blush colouring his cheeks—a rare vulnerability that adds another layer to the enigma that is Jameson Hawthorne. His eyes, still reflecting the fire of our shared passion, hold a depth that defies easy explanation. 

A tender smile curves his lips as he leans down to kiss the crown of my head. His lips press into my hair, a silent promise and a gesture that speaks volumes. The library, once a stage for the intensity of desire, now becomes a sanctuary of shared intimacy. 

He settles back next to me, the warmth of his presence a comforting embrace. A smile lingers on his lips as he presses them into my hair, and I feel the echo of our shared moment lingering in the air like the fading notes of a beautiful melody. The pages of the book in my hands wait patiently, as if knowing that our own narrative has become a story worth telling—a love story written in the quiet corners of a library that has witnessed the blending of passion, literature, and the tender moments that make life extraordinary.

                           ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

TAGS: New Tag List Form

The Inheritance Games Masterlist

[ravisinghs-wife]

Could you please post jameson hawthorne x reader dating headcanons?

Jameson Hawthorne dating headcanons

warnings: not proofread, I wrote this in like 20 minutes, not any besides that (let me know if I missed any) a/n: suprissee, I'm still alive🤭

Masterlist

you met through Xander

you and Xander are already friends and go to the same classes and stuff and get paired up in a project

you go to the Hawthorne House to work on the project with him, and there you meet Jameson

he barges into Xanders room to ask him something super random like where the skipping ropes are and then he notices you

you are the most gorgous thing he has ever seen and you immidiantly become friends

you exchange phone numbers and always hang out at school and his house

but anyway

he would definitely make you a playlist

also having a shared Spotify playlist where you keep adding songs until it's 20 hours long

it's actually just a bunch of Taylor Swift, Lana Del Rey and Harry Styles songs mixed

he would take you on the most advantourus and insisting dates you ever had

a cute date at a fancy restaurant? never heard of it

on you first date he would probably take you to play laser tag or something

this boy has so much energy

he's always running around

he's the definition of golden retriever boyfriend

his favorite ice cream is definitely cookie dough

he'd wake you up at 4 am to eat ice cream with him and watch a movie because he can't sleep

he'd make an extremely big deal out of your birthday

he throws you the best party ever and makes sure that only people you like are invited and has SO many activities planned where he knows that you'll love them

his love language his definitely physical touch and quality time

your always sleeping somehow on him and he's always brushing through you hair <33

you'd stay in bed until 10 am and just cuddle

this man gives amazing cuddles

he just wraps both hands around you and holds you tight until you fall asleep

he's always touching you in some sort of way

be it your hand that he's holding, the hair stand he's playing with or holding his arm on your lower back and giving you support through it

this man loves board games

always has chess, uno etc. with him

playing bowling together <3

you would be besties with his brothers

you already are with Xander since you knew him first but through you relationship with Jameson you get closer with his other brothers

you four (five with Avery) would definitely play tag

staying up late just to talk

on the phone and in person

when you‘re aways from each other you just stay up on the phone and call each other all the time lol

also just being in each others present/being in the same room and doing separate things like you homework, reading your current read, drawing journaling or just scrolling on your phone

you guys are so in love with each other it's almost pathetic

[morganwrites12672]

Can you do 🩰 Jameson Hawthorne x reader, please?

Jameson Hawthorne x Reader

A/N: I love getting TIG requests!

Summary: It was definitely love

Warnings/Tags: Female!Reader, Jameson x reader established relationship (romantic), fluff, fluffffffff, kissing

----------------------------------------------------------

This was love.

The look in Jameson's eyes as he stared back into yours. Was definitely love.

"I think I'm in love with you. Like really in love," Jameson whispered. He hadn't ever felt something like this before.

Your touch gave him butterflies, the mention of your name had him daydreaming.

"That's good." He looks confused before you finish, "because I'm in love with you to." The gap between the two of you is closed as his lips crash into yours

He tastes like whatever whiskey he had been drinking and a faint taste of lemon. Xander must be mad at him if he was giving him lemon instead of blueberry flavored scones.

All thoughts if the other Hawthornes leave your kind as Jameson's hand grasps into yours. He loves the way your hand fit with his. Fingers locked.

Jameson smiled as he pulled away

He didn't say anything. Just drinking in your beauty. Your soft skin was softly lit up in the pale moonlight. It reflected off of your body like the sun off of water. Everything about the scene in front of him was beautiful.

He threaded his fingers through your silly hair. He couldn't love you anymore. Everything about you was completely perfect.

"I don't think I can live without you," he whispered and the tone of his voice and sincerity in his eyes tells you he wasn't joking.

He didn't think he was. The thought of not being able to spend every waking second with you made him sick.

He could live without a lot of things. Hell, he could go longer without oxygen then without you.

"You won't have to, I have no plans of ever leaving," you whispered and cuddled into his bare chest.

The both of you could stay like this forever. Holding into the other for dear life.

----------------------------------------------------------

requests are open!

Reblogs and comments are very appreciated!

[cherrys-writings]

Can you please do Jameson Hawthorn x reader fics your writing is amazing

Why There's Glitter in Grayson's Bathroom

Thank you so much!! It means so much that you apprecieate my writing!!

Here's romantic partners in crime, traffic cone chaos, and my attempt at a cute/clever nickname

Prank wars, while they became less common, they got more elaborate. Grayson never should have said that he noticed everything. You knew the moment it left his mouth that Jameson would take it as an open invitation to mess with him. You were sitting on a couch watching him pace in front of a white board. Near illegible writing scattered on the mind map, detailed the intricacies of his plan.

"Vixen you’re a genius!" 

Jameson had that crooked smile that drive you crazy. You walk towards him, standing on your toes and giving him a chaste kiss. You take the marker from his hand, "your plan is good, but you forgot one thing. Cleaning schedule."

Jamie laughed, "if all goes well, we won't need to worry about that."

Jameson already had the first things he would place in Grayson's part of the house. You suggested a variation of what that comedian did with rubber ducks. He loved how clever you were, figuring out how to pull off some of his most impossible ideas. As soon as Grayson was gone, you snuck into his rooms. 

"Put them somewhere you only glance at, like between a frame and a wall or the top of a lamp," you suggested. You agreed to start with only three or four tiny traffic cones and then slowly work your way up to large ones. Jameson had put two in the bathroom and as expected, Grayson didn’t notice their presence. Jameson bugged you while studying to recount how Grayson spent all day in his rooms and didn’t notice the tiny traffic cones. Time to level up.

Xander had the next step up, legos. “Do you have anything big planned once you get to big traffic cones? Or are you just letting them sit there?” 

You smiled, “Are you familiar with the concept of the glitter bomb?” 

Jameson slammed the car door and sighed at yet another parking lot devoid of traffic cones. You leaned against the car next to him, admiring how he looked while frustrated. The crease of his brows, how he would rub his eyes, and the pouty frown that made him look in desperate need of kissing. Lack of streetlights made the idea more and more tempting until you finally gave in. Gently at first, turning him toward you before stealing his frown for yourself. No matter how many times Jameson kissed you, he acted like it would be your last. He held your face with both hands, tilting your head just right so he could savor every moment. You let your hands slide down his chest, smiling against his mouth when his abs tensed under your touch. His tongue traced your lower lip, earning a contented sigh. You tugged at his waist, his warmth surrounding you.

Jameson rested his forehead against yours, hand on the small of your back keeping you close, “What are you thinking, Vixen?” 

“You needed to stop thinking Jamie.”

At this point you, Jameson, and Xander were sure that Grayson was purposefully ignoring the traffic cones. Probably didn’t want to give you all the satisfaction of having proved him wrong. So the three of you continued this plot, until the day Grayson burst into Jameson’s room yelling and covered head to toe in rainbow glitter. 

Thank you again ❤❤

-Cherry

[f4iry-bell]

WHERE'S THE TROPHY

pairing: grayson hawthorne x f!reader

summary: where's the trophy he's just coming running to me :p

warning: none :3 maybe a bit ooc gray? (let's assume he got a lot of therapy)

a/n: idk much about sports or olympics so if this the scene here is impossible to happen IDC! it happens in this universe!!!! :p also inspired by the olympics if it wasn't obvious 😔

tagging: @unnoodles @nqds @alwaysthefangirl @clarissaweasley-10 @benny1989fredd @imaseabear @never-enough-novels @elysianwayy77 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou

word count: 160 (ik too short)

masterlist

She wasn't shocked when Grayson broke the world record but it did shock her when he took off his swimming cap and goggles and ran straight to her all wet to get his victory hug from her. What also surprised her was that this is Grayson Hawthorne, her boyfriend who showers her with affections but keeps it down in public, running to her in front of a huge crowd and a million people watching.

She immediately hugged him back and let his wet body lift her up and spin her a little, when he finally put her down she stood on her tiptoe to kiss his forehead and then spoke “Congratulations, Gray. I'm so proud of you but you go get your medal now!”

“You're more precious.” He smiled and kissed her.

“I love you but go!”

“I love you too.” He kissed her lips one last time before going to get his gold medal he just won with ease. She couldn't help but feel so proud of him and feel so grateful to have him.

[lanterns-and-daydreams]

Gigi: Can I get a mimosa? Or a coffee?

Y/N: what did Grayson say?

Gigi: He said no :(

Y/N: Then why are you asking me?

Gigi: He's not the boss of you

Y/N, internally: this is a trap, this is a trap

BONUS:

Y/N: let's be honest, he's definitely the boss of me

Gigi: Yep

Teeny weenie extra bonus:

Gigi: But you'll get me mimosas and coffee anyway, right?

Y/N: set me up and yes. Yes, i will

[milkchocolate-e]

I love it when we hug, When we do crazy things together, when we laugh out loud at our stupid inside jokes, when we cuddle while watching eachother's favourite movie, when i run my fingers through your hair when your stressed, when we cry holding eachother, reassuring each other that everything will be fine.

i want this, in the future.

[catapparently]

Help I wanna write but I don't wanna write but I want to write but I can't

[inmyheaddd]

𝑴𝑨𝑰𝑵 𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻!

𝑹𝑬𝑪𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑲𝑺:

beneath the same stars - averyjameson

walkin’ out the door with your bags - part 6 - grayson hawthorne x reader

nobody gets me, you do - averyjameson

𝑱𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑯𝑨𝑾𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑬 𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

𝑮𝑹𝑨𝒀𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑯𝑨𝑾𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑬 𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

𝑵𝑨𝑺𝑯 𝑯𝑨𝑾𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑬 𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

𝑿𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑯𝑨𝑾𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑬 𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

𝑹𝑨𝑽𝑰 𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑯 𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

𝑳𝑼𝑲𝑬 𝑪𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑨𝑵 𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑪𝒀 𝑱𝑨𝑪𝑲𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑺 & 𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑷𝑺

𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑪𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑬𝑶𝑼𝑺 / 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑺

requests are open - don’t be afraid to send them !! disclaimer! i can’t guarantee that i’ll do your request immediately, but i will try and get it out as soon as i can! thank you for taking the time to read 🤍

[wildesqdreams]

hi! I love your blog!

Can you maybe write a Jameson hawthorne x reader fic based off of I can see you by Taylor swift? If not it’s totally fine

i can see you

pairing - jameson hawthorne x fem!reader.

summary - a friendship becomes so much more, but it's not for other eyes to see.

warnings - none, just kissing and love.

navigation | masterlist | request | taglist

a/n: I AM SO SORRYYYYY, THIS TOOOK SOOOOO LOOONG TO WRITE. i just had no motivation or inspiration, but i will be doing other requests, too.

i've been watchin' you for ages

and i spend my time tryin' not to feel it

"you should just finally gather the courage and say it," y/n's classmate, lucy, spoke, beside her, "you're just torturing yourself."

the girl removed her gaze from him and looked at her, "absolutely not," she closed her locker, "and i'm getting over it, so just stop talking about him."

"then stop staring at him every time when he's in your view."

y/n rolled her eyes. but mostly because of how stupid her heart was.

she tried. she really did. to stop the warm feeling, ambraising her every time he was near. or to get rid of the goosebumps that appeared when his touch scarred her skin. or the desire to throw their friendship away just to feel his lips on hers.

it was like every time she saw him, she could imagine it. his arms around her. his lips on hers. their bodies pressed against each other up against the wall.

but it was all just a fantasy. a desire.

"let's go, or we will be late," she walked to class with lucy, not feeling the green eyes locked on her back. the same green eyes she fantasizes about all the time.

and we kept everything professional

but something's changed, it's somethin' i, i like

popular wasn't the word that you would describe jameson hawthorne as or the other hawthorne's. he was a dangerous threat. his mind a powerful weapon. jameson hawthorne was a boy with a different view to the world - it being a game. a riddle.

maybe that was the reason for people respecting him and his family. because of the wealth, reputation, and the name. or maybe it was because jameson hawthorne was a wanted treat, on whom all the eyes laid.

but like they didn't know a lot of things about the boy, they didn't also know one of the biggest secrets that hid behind his green eyes - that he was trying to move a piece on the board towards something frightening but exciting.

so, just like that, friendly conversations with flirty comments turned to secret touches and heated kisses.

it was important for jameson to keep the relationship as a secret. for a hawthorne grandson with a reputation so big it was a risk to show his private life to the public. the boy was scared that the talks and whispers would destroy something so magnificent and special. jameson hawthorne was scared that by making a mistake, she would get hurt, and he couldn't help.

'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me

And I could see you up against the wall with me

his lips were on hers as soon as he pulled her into an empty classroom, his hands on her hips.

every time y/n was with jameson, she could feel her heart pound. the girl could feel the adrenaline rush through her body. with the hawthorne, she felt free. euphoric.

"i have maths in ten minutes," y/n murmured against his lips as they slowly backed away.

"mhm."

as soon as her thighs hit the desk, jameson lifted her up and stepped in between her legs. his lips still on hers.

her hand found its way to his hair, "we're revising for a test."

jameson started preparing light kisses along her jaw, while his thumb drew small circles on her thigh.

"it's very import-"

"i swear to god, if you don't shut up about studying for once, i'll drop you out from school," jameson finally spoke as he looked into her eyes.

the girl giggled.

"you'll do great, y/n/n, i know you will," he leaned in and kissed her neck, "and if you won't i'll help, but i think either way you'll need me, beacuse you're trash at combinatory."

the girl pushed him back with a shocked smile, "you just said that i'll do great!"

"didn't want to tell the hard truth," he smirked.

"jerk," y/n rolled her eyes while smiling.

"yeah, but you love me, and i love you, so you can't stay mad at me," he saw her grin and gave her a small kiss, "i love your smile."

y/n's stomach filled with butterflies, and she pulled jameson in by the neck as she connected their lips.

Oh, I see you, I see you, baby

I see you

"he's looking," lucy spoke.

y/n felt her cheeks heat up, but she continued doing her homework.

"what is he even doing in a library, doesn't he have important hawthorne stuff to do?"

"like what?"

"like getting the arrogant stick out of his ass?"

the girl snorted, which caused other people to look at her, "that's graysons job, not jamesons, " she whispered, ignoring the people.

before lucy could respond, y/n's phone vibrated. she checked and saw a message from a someone.

'i would love to hear that laugh again. meet me at midnight?''

'you actually are a shit'

'i love you too and i'll take that as a yes.'

y/n couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face. that boy was gonna be the death of her.

"it's him, isn't he?"

"what? no?" she put the phone down, and resumed to her work.

lucy chuckled, "gurl, you're a terrible liar."

y/n laughed and bumped the girl with her shoulder, "shut up."

taglist: @noaboacoa @k-pevensie28 @mochamvgz @formulalina15

[authorscurse]

Love Leaves Scars: Plot Twist of the Century

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

Warning: Skye is a warning yall

Pairing: Oc!reader x Grayson Hawthorne

W.C: 2.3k

I observe as the sky is bathed in a soft hue of blue, and the sun emerges from its slumber. The sky is adorned with wisps of clouds and the graceful presence of birds, infusing it with vibrant life and color. A gentle, chilly breeze brushes against my skin, causing a light shiver to ripple through me. I draw my blanket closer, taking solace in its warmth, as I savor each sip of the steaming coffee I have brewed. All the while, my gaze remains fixed upon the ever-changing canvas of the sky, as well as the graceful movements of the birds.

"You're awake quite early," I hear Asnid's morning voice raspily remark. "Good morning," I greet her warmly, setting my mug down on the table of the balcony. Asnid settles into the vacant chair opposite me, reaching out to take a sip from my mug. "From what I recall, you're not one to wake up early, Vers," Asnid remarks. "I found it difficult to sleep last night," I confess, my voice tinged with vulnerability. Sleep has evaded me ever since our arrival here, five days ago.

"Is the bed not providing enough comfort?" Asnid inquires, her concern evident. I assure her that the bed is perfectly adequate. It's simply that the memories I have tried desperately to forget persistently haunt me, even within the realm of my dreams. Ever since I turned twelve, I have been unable to dream at all, and I can't even remember the last time I ever did dream. Yet, sleeping within Hawthorne House has reawakened my ability to dream. Alas, these dreams are far from pleasant—they can rather be described as nightmares.

"Are you nervous about the will reading?" Asnid speculates. "Why would I be nervous about something like that? Im sure Tobias Hawthorne included me in that will for one of his games," I reply. But deep down, is that truly the case?

I turn away from Asnid and fix my gaze upon the captivating vista before us. Hawthorne House, perched upon its expansive estate, commands attention. The forest surrounding us sways in unison with the whims of the wind.My eyes remain on the scene, for a moment, I felt a semblance of peace wash over me. A semblance, but not quite complete.

"We should eat breakfast, Verity," Asnid suggests, rising from her seat. Reluctantly, I tear my eyes away from the captivating view, following Asnid downstairs to the dining area. The long table is adorned with an array of breakfast delicacies—varieties of bread, succulent fruits, and a tempting assortment of treats. It is a veritable feast, brimming with flavors that screams sugar rush. "Good morning, Miss Verity and Miss Asnid," one of the maids greets us before departing to the kitchen.

I pull out a chair for Asnid, then take my place beside her. It doesn't take long before the remaining occupants of Hawthorne House begin to trickle into the dining area, joining us for breakfast. However, one person is noticeably absent.

"Where might dearest Grayson be?" Xander inquires, his mouth full of bread. "He left yesterday for some errands and hasn't come back," Nash replies. My eyes meet Nash's, and he raises an eyebrow inquisitively. I simply lower my head, focusing on the food before me. Silence settles upon the room, punctuated only by a small exchange of words.Everything remained silent until...

"I'm home!" a voice rings out, shattering the tranquility.

As Skye Hawthorne enters the dining room, the atmosphere shifts. The three grandchildren momentarily pause their eating before resuming.

"Good morning, boys, did you miss me?" She ask while giving a three of them a half-hearted hugs before her attention turns to me. Her eyes light up, and a sly smirk forms on her lips.

"Verity Rosewood, long time no see, my dear," Skye greets me, approaching with enthusiasm. I rise from my seat and reciprocate the hug she offers. "Oh, how I missed my favorite future daughter-in-law," she remarks, planting a kiss on my cheek. I resume my seat as Skye takes the one beside me.Just great. 

Skye then turns her attention to Asnid, "Well, who is this pretty lady over here?" Asnid, taken aback by the question, blushes deeply and introduces herself politely. "I'm Asnid, nice to meet you, Miss Hawthorne," she responds with a sweet smile. Skye attempts to return the gesture, though a fleeting expression of disgust betrays her true feelings. Skye possesses a talent for feigning kindness, concealing her true emotions.

Concerning Grayson's whereabouts, Skye poses the same question she asked her sons earlier. Nash provides the same response he shared with Xander, indicating that Grayson ventured out on errands and has yet to return. Skye then shifts her attention back to me, "How are you, Verity? I've missed you, my dear,"

"I've been doing great, actually," I reply, offering a sweet smile as I continue to enjoy my breakfast. Skye's hand delicately tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, further blurring the boundaries of comfort. Such a sweet but fake act. "Where is Zara? Shouldn't she be here when the will reading starts?" Skye queries, indulging in bread and fruit as she awaits an answer.

After excusing ourselves from the table to give the Hawthorne family their privacy, Asnid and I walk away, leaving the dining room. I can sense Skye's gaze following us until we leave the room.

"Who is that lady?" Asnid asks once we are out of earshot. I reply, "That's Skye Hawthorne, the second-born daughter of Tobias and the mother of the four grandchildren." Asnid murmurs her suspicion, "She seems like bad news."

"She is, so be careful," I warn her. Asnid nods obediently, understanding the potential dangers. We decide to minimize our interactions with the Hawthornes by staying in our room until the will reading commences.

As I assist Asnid in zipping up her dress, she raises a question. "Do you think the Avery girl has arrived by now?" I consider her inquiry and respond, "If she hasn't, it means we'll be staying here even longer until the next scheduled will reading." Asnid then confides, "I kind of like it here." Our eyes meet in the mirror before us. I cannot deny that I share a similar sentimentI couldn't say that I didn't feel the same. It's hard to enjoy staying in the house that haunts you even in your dreams. It's hard to enjoy staying in the house which makes me remember memories I choose to forget. It's hard to enjoy staying in the house where you met your first love.

"I'm glad you enjoyed your stay here, hon," I offer a small smile, which she reciprocates. Words alone would not suffice to convey the depth of my disdain for this place—the unsettling feelings it evokes, the memories it forces me to confront, and the sight of the man I once loved.

Our attention is diverted to the sound of a knock on the door. "Asnid? Verity? You need to come down now," Nash's voice reaches us from the other side. Asnid responds, "We'll be out in a minute!" She places a hairclip in her hair, and I patiently wait as Nash's footsteps fade away.

"I'm done! Let's go!" Asnid exclaims, grabbing my hand as we make our way down the stairs and into the Great Room. As we enter, the room is already filled with people, although the main event has yet to commence. Oren, Tobias's head bodyguard, stands by the wall, strategically positioned to observe the room's exits. The Laughlin family occupies one side of the room, while Zara and her husband engage in conversation with the lawyers, Grayson at their side. Nan sits at the front right of the room, with Xander irritating her incessantly. Skye occupies a solitary seat, and the remaining Hawthorne boys are seated together.

"Let's sit beside them!" Asnid whispers to me with excitement, suggesting that we sit beside the two unfamiliar girls in the wingback chairs. One of the girls had long brown hair while the other had short blue hair.  Eagerly, we take the seats beside them. The girls turn their attention to us as we settle in. Asnid takes the initiative, extending her arm and introducing herself. "Hi! I'm Asnid! What's your name?" she asks cheerfully, and both girls shake her hand. The brunette girl introduces herself as Avery, while the one with blue hair is named Libby.

"Oh! You're the girl mentioned in the will too!" Asnid exclaims, pointing out Avery's connection. Avery nods in acknowledgment. "Do you know why? Were you mentioned too or are you related to these people?" Libby asks.  "Honestly we're as confused as you are. I'm not mentioned but Verity is," Asnid says before linking her arm with mine2 and reassures them, "We're not related to the Hawthornes, don't worry." I observe as Libby visibly relaxes. "Finally, someone who isn't 'richy rich'," she exhales, prompting giggles from Asnid.

Deciding to engage in further conversation, Asnid moves to sit beside Libby while Avery takes Asnid's previous seat. A"Were you dragged into this as well?" Avery asks. "Yeah, sort of," I chuckled. "Do you have a history with them?" Avery shoots another question. I hesitated to give her a truthful answer but eventually still did. I nodded my head and told her how I used to play with the four Hawthorne grandchildren when we were young.

Avery responds, "Good for you, because I don't." Tobias Hawthorne you sick old man. "Even in death, he likes to play stupid games," I sigh, expressing my frustration. Avery begins to offer a reply, but her words are cut off by one of the lawyers in the room. "Now that everyone is here, it would be wise to start," the lawyer announces, and the three of them position themselves in a triangle formation, signaling the beginning of the proceedings.

The lawyer, whom I recognize as Alisa's father, begins by stating that we are gathered to hear the last will and testament of Tobias Tattersall Hawthorne. He explains that per Mr. Hawthorne's instructions, his colleagues will now distribute letters that he had left for each of us. The other lawyers begin to walk around the room, handing out the assigned letters to each person.

I receive my letter, and I notice that Avery has received hers as well. From the corner of my eye, I see Asnid staring at me with a worried expression. I turn to her and offer an assuring smile. I mouth the words "I'm fine" to her, and she nods, redirecting her attention back to the lawyers. "You may read the letters given to you once the will reading has concluded," The lawyer instructed. 

The lawyer proceeds to explain that Tobias had stipulated that all individuals mentioned in his will must be physically present, and we have all fulfilled that requirement. The reading of the will officially commences.

"I, Tobias Tattersall Hawthorne, being of sound body and mind, decree that my worldly possessions, including all monetary and physical assets, be disposed of as follows," Mr. Ortega reads aloud, ensuring that everyone in the room can hear his words.

The room is filled with a palpable tension. Everyone is on the edge of their seats, their hearts pounding against their chests and their breaths held in anticipation. The silence is so profound that the ticking of the clock is audible.

One by one, each person present in the room is given their share of Tobias's fortune and assets. When Skye and Zara receive their share, they engage in a heated sibling dispute, creating a disturbance in the middle of this crucial event. Mr. Ortega intervenes, calming the two down and emphasizing the near impossibility of challenging the will. Now, it is time to address the grandsons.

"To my grandsons, Nash Westbrook Hawthorne, Grayson Davenport Hawthorne, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, and Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne, I leave..." As Mr. Ortega's voice resonates through the room, the tension reaches its peak. Zara mutters bitterly, "Everything," expressing her discontent with the situation.

"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars apiece, payable on their twenty-fifth birthdays, until such time to be managed by Alisa Ortega, trustee," Mr. Ortega continues. 

Another eruption of Hawthorne family drama ensues, triggered by these words. The wealth distribution becomes apparent: the grandsons receive their allotted amounts, the two daughters receive Tobias's belongings and five hundred thousand dollars, Nan receives her daughter's jewelry and a yearly sum of one hundred thousand dollars, Oren is bequeathed a toolbox and three hundred thousand dollars, and a mere one hundred dollars are designated for the Laughlin family. "Please, everyone," Mr. Ortega held up a hand and everyone stopped talking all at once. "Allow me to finish," The room goes silent once again but this time everyone turns to me and Avery sitting beside each other. 

"Please, everyone," Mr. Ortega raises his hand, and the room falls silent once again. All eyes turn towards me and Avery, who are seated beside each other. The anticipation hangs heavily in the air.

"The remainder of my estate, including all properties, I leave to Avery Kylie Grambs," Mr. Ortega announces. The room fills with a mixture of surprise and astonishment. Libby and Avery's eyes widen at the lawyer's words. I can feel the weight of everyone's gaze upon me, waiting for the rest of the will to be read.

"All remaining monetary assets and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, I leave to..."

My heart races uncontrollably, pounding against my chest, clamoring to be set free. The sound of my own heartbeat drowns out all other noise. My ears feel as though they're ringing, overwhelmed by its deafening rhythm. I struggle to draw a breath, feeling as if my lungs are suffocating, desperate for air. Every fiber of my being cries out for help, for relief. I cannot bring myself to meet anyone's gaze, not even Asnid's. In the midst of my distress, I sense Avery taking hold of my hand, offering a small measure of solace. Yet, it is not enough to quell the tumultuous screams and cries echoing within my heart.

"Verity Quinn Rosewood," Mr. Ortega finally utters my name, and the world around me seems to come crashing down.

Taglist: @whysosmugwitch

[ravisinghs-wife]

✼ Masterlist ✼

The Inheritance Games

Jameson Hawthorne

Jameson Hawthorne Dating Headcanons

Grayson Hawthorne

Grayson Hawthorne Dating Headcanons

I write for jameson, grayson, xander, nash, avery and libby

A Good Girls Guide to Murder

Ravi Singh

Ravi Singh Dating headcanons

I write for ravi, pip and cara

Shatter me

Aaron warner

Meeting/Dating Aaron Warner Headcanons

I write for Aaron and kenji

Percy Jackson

Percy Jackson

Percy dating tall!fem!reader headcanons

the seven plus nico and Reyna and their red flags

Annabeth chase

the seven plus nico and Reyna and their red flags

Jason Grace

the seven plus nico and Reyna and their red flags

Piper mclean

the seven plus nico and Reyna and their red flags

Leo valdez

the seven plus nico and Reyna and their red flags

Reyna

he seven plus nico and Reyna and their red flags

I write for percy, annabeth, Leo, piper, Jason, reyna and thalia

Fandoms I write for besides the ones listet above: mcu, grishaverse and the marauders (Harry Potter)

[cherrys-writings]

Grayson hawthorne x reader where reader is badly hurt and is in hopsital or something !!

Thank you for being so patient!

ICU

Brief description of panic attack

Grayson

Grayson was sitting in his office at the Hawthorne Foundation when he got the call. The news wasn’t coming from you, but your friend, she was sitting in the ER with you.

“What do you mean you took her to the ER, Marcie?” Grayson couldn’t wrap his head around it. You assured him it was just a headache, you would be fine, he should go to work. 

Marcie’s harsh tone pulled him from his thoughts, “She texted me saying she really didn’t feel well. Her head hurt and she was throwing up, dizzy and she said it didn’t feel right. When I got there she was burning up. What else do you want me to say?” 

There were voices in the background, Grayson heard the muffled sounds of the medical staff, “What hospital?”

“It was hard enough getting them to let me back, I had to explain how far away her parents were, I doubt they’ll let you.”

“What. Hospital.” Grayson was starting to lose it. His heart was already racing, shaky hand practically crushing the phone when Marcie finally answered. He took a deep breath and stood, forcing himself to walk out of the building. 

He’s not there. You’re not okay and he’s not there. Tears blur Grayson’s vision, what if you’re dying. He’s not there. Terror churns in Grayson’s stomach, his steps quicken away from the exit and towards the restroom. Grayson pulls harshly at his tie then the top buttons of his shirt, the building’s too hot. Grayson’s breaths come in gasps as he splashes cold water on his face, sweat dripping from his temples. If the building weren’t so goddamn hot, he might be able to get a full breath of air. 

Why is he taking a detour when he needs to be with you?  

Your POV

You whined when the lights were turned on again, the beams like needles through your skull, and squeezed your eyes shut. You barely heard the nurse explain that the strep and flu tests were negative and they were waiting for the bloodwork to come back. He dimmed the lights before leaving and Marcie thanked him. 

“I called Grayson. He’ll probably be here soon,” Marcie slowly ran her fingers through your hair. 

“Grayson?” you hadn’t seen Marcie leave. When did she have time to call him? You’re pretty sure she never left your side.

You clutched your stomach against another rush of nausea, gritting your teeth through the accompanying cramps. Marcie kept petting your hair, when you heard a familiar, modulated voice just beyond the door, “Will this be an issue?”

Through the brain fog, you can almost picture the expectant look on Grayson’s face when he said that, mouth in a hard line, gaze slightly narrowed. Based on the delay between his question and the poor victim’s response, he did the eyebrow thing. Light-headedness washed over you again when you turned too quickly toward the opening door. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing your sight to focus. Grayson was sitting in the chair beside your bed when you opened your eyes again, blue surgical mask covering half his face. You leaned into his touch when he brought his hand to your forehead.

Grayson’s red rimmed eyes widened, “what was her temperature when she arrived?” 

You hadn’t noticed your nurse was back, giving you anti-nausea medication through your i.v. “It was 104℉, but we’ve gotten it to come down to 102℉,” he said, “our doc wants to do a lumbar puncture. That will give us a better picture of what’s going on and then we can get you feelin’ better.”

Thankfully, the nurses set up the equipment for the lumbar puncture quickly, the ER not yet flooded with patients. It was hard to concentrate on what the doctor was saying, but you got the gist. Lay on your side, be still, they’ll give you a little bit of medicine to help with your pain and make staying still a little easier. Only when they started to explain that Marcie and Grayson needed to leave did you protest.

The previously steady heart monitor began to beep, giving away your anxiety. “Wait, no,” you sat straight up, room spinning again. 

To no one’s surprise, Grayson hadn’t moved from his chair when he was instructed. Marcie was halfway out, eyes flitting between you, the medical staff, and Grayson. It was Gray who spoke first, cool voice taking control of the situation.

“She’s obviously terrified. I’m not going to leave my girlfriend alone for this test when she’s already a bit confused from this illness. We all know things go smoothly when the patient is calm.” 

Grayson had moved a chair to sit right by your face, stroking your cheek. He let you take his other hand in yours, eyes never leaving you. There was no warning for the floating sensation as the nurse injected medication into your i.v. and immediately the pain in your head eased. Cold spread across your lower back and the doctor asked you to take a deep breath before inserting the needle. You let out a whimper and squeezed Grayson’s hand against the pressure.

“Stay still darling,” Grayson hushed, lightly running a hand down your arm, “you’re doing great. They’re almost done.” 

You watched the nurse in front of you hand the doctor gauze and a bandage. With Grayson by your side you didn’t try too hard to concentrate on what was said following the procedure. Laying flat on your back for the next hour waiting for results, you tried getting some rest, knowing Grayson would take care of you. 

********************************

You woke to Grayson gently shaking your shoulder and the doctor standing in front of you. 

“The results of the lumbar puncture came back, you have bacterial meningitis. We’re going to start you on some i.v. antibiotics down here and you’ll be taken up to the ICU shortly. They’ll monitor you the next few days and, depending on your condition, move you to med/surg where you’ll finish treatment.” 

Despite the change of scenery, it was still freezing. Grayson perched on one side of your bed, fussing with another blanket and tucking it around your shoulders. From this angle you could see the lines of worry on his face, tension in his jaw, and the tears once again trickling down his cheeks. You reached out, wiping his face with your hand, “I’m okay, Grayson”

He kissed your palm, “You’re in the ICU, sweetie. Doesn’t exactly qualify as okay.” 

“Look at me Gray,” you lifted his chin, “I’ll be okay.”

Grayson sighed, “you could have–”

“But I didn’t. I’m not going anywhere, my love.”

Before he can respond, there’s a gentle knock followed by a nurse entering. She introduces herself and takes your vitals, explaining your treatment plan and the general rules of the ICU; only one visitor at a time. It was hard keeping your eyes open and paying attention to her words. She looks at Grayson, “If you’re around each other often the doctor will want to have you on antibiotics as well, just to be safe. Is there anyone else who’s around frequently?”

“Marcie.”

“The friend who brought her,” Grayson clarified, “ I can give you her contact information.”

The nurse nods, “Please tell anyone that might want to visit that they need to be wearing a mask. Until she’s out of the ICU at the very least.”

When the nurse left you finally let your eyes shut, drifting to sleep as Grayson’s fingertips glided along your hand. 

You were awoken a few hours later to someone taking your vitals, quietly letting them take your temperature. Gray’s hand still on yours tightened when the thermometer beeped. You watched him straighten in the chair, clearly having dozed off earlier. His voice gravely when he asked, “how you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a bus.”

Your nurse removed the blood pressure cuff, “it’s a good thing you came here when you did. With a fever that high it’s a wonder you were even conscious. Get some rest, if you need anything just press the call button.”

You thanked her and looked back to Grayson, “you can go home. Get some sleep in a real bed. I’ll be okay here.”

Grayson stared into your eyes, “I’m not going anywhere.” 

The first few days passed like that, Grayson by your side as you slept. Sometimes you woke up and he would be reading, other times he would be asleep too. His hair falling in his face, light stubble on his face, and the worried crease in his brow gone even for a small amount of time. By the fifth day when you were no longer contagious, you were moved to a regular room; private at Grayson’s insistence. Several bouquets of your favorite flowers sat on the tables around the room. 

Now that you were allowed more than one visitor at a time there was almost a revolving door of Hawthornes. Nash making sure Grayson wasn’t being overbearing, Libby bringing cupcakes for you and medical staff on the floor. Day seven had you going stir crazy. You were still on iv antibiotics to make sure the infection was completely out of your system, but you were feeling considerably better. Xander visited for the first time that day, bringing with him a book of magnet block challenges. He even offered to make Rube Goldberg machines for the light switch and curtains. 

Grayson drove you to Hawthorne House the day you were discharged. “Gray, you don’t have to babysit me. I’m fine now,” you insisted.

“Sweetie, you had a serious illness that might have neurological side effects. I want to make sure you’re still recovering well.”

You hadn’t told him about the lingering brain fog, but somehow he picked up on it.  Grayson had no idea how his actions warmed your heart. Of course, he had a bedroom ready for you, but you opted to stay in his room. Grayson crawled into bed next to you, finally able to hold you close after this scare. “I love you, Gray.”

***************

Thank you for being so patient! Other requests I promise I haven't forgotten about you and will be posting them soon.