#it's game over if i saw ghost in grey joggers

[xo-cod]

Your favourite COD man in a low cut pair of joggers, causally leaning against a worktop or the door frame as they talk to you. How would you react? 🤭

don't edge me rn, i'm impatient 😵‍💫😮‍💨🫣

[jae-daddy]

magic (4)

Draco Malfoy Fanfic 

one / two / three  / five / six

pairing: draco x reader genre: shifting realities, romance, clown shit plot: you mistaken shift realities too well and end up in harry potter universe with draco malfoy as your companion  a/n: i need to stop getting carried away and writing so much lmao. hope yall enjoy it <3 not edited

"Can’t you magic this, so it’s a bit bigger?” You walked out wearing the white and green jumper Draco got for you.

Draco just ignored you and straightened his collar. His hair brushed back, and the black suit stark against his pale skin.

He was undeniably the most attractive human you had ever seen. The TikTok, movies and pictures did not do justice to his beauty. The one that existed in your universe dulled down his beauty.

You had realised on the second night you spent here, that while Draco did look like Tom Felton, he was, in fact, not Tom Felton. It was him, but not him. It was Draco Malfoy. In this universe, no Tom Felton was playing the character, it was just Draco Malfoy, and he was magnificent.

Your eyes met his sliver ones through the reflection, making you frown as you gestured to your outfit.

“I was hoping for a more oversized, boyfriend’s-jersey aesthetic,” you muttered as you spun in front of the mirror. “I mean, it’s not bad, but a little bigger would just be perfect.”

“It won’t make a difference,” Draco sighed, as he turned to face you. “You will still remain a hideous muggle.”

You rolled your eyes at him, as he walked past you. “Not everything is about you Malfoy. This is about self-confidence and love.”

“Are you coming?” He ignored you, as he held the door open for you.

You looked at him with butterflies dancing in your stomach as your palms got sweaty. You gulped as you looked beyond him to the dark hallway outside.

Your eyes glanced at Draco’s face to find him watching you impatiently. You wiped your palms on the pair of joggers you had borrowed from Draco.

You were nervous. You had thought about leaving this room a thousand times over the past week, but now that the moment was here, you were scared.

What if you didn’t remain invisible? What if you’re somehow caught?

What would happen to you? What would happen to Draco?

Your shaky gaze fixed on Draco once more, and his face softened slightly as he gave you a small reassuring nod.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. With your fists clenched tightly by your side, you marched outside of the room. You felt yourself brush past Draco, and the door close behind you.

You remained still; your eyes shut tight as you stood there unmoving.

“Let’s go, muggle,” Draco whispered in your ear, making you jump. He looked at you his eyes lighting up with amusement as he smirked at you. He was enjoying seeing you so on the edge.

“I wouldn’t worry as much if I were you,” Draco pulled you by the elbow as he began strutting down the stretching hallway. “My parents have left for the game long ago, and no one is here to see you in all your disgusting muggle glory.”

You glared at his head, before relaxing by his side.

He led you through the maze, called Malfoy Mansion, until you were finally outside.

You almost hissed as the sunlight assaulted your eyes.

“I feel like a vampire,” you muttered, making Draco chuckle.

“You really do not want to feel like a vampire,” he snickered, making you turn to him with eyes wide in surprise.

“No way!” You gasped. “There are actual vampires here? Are they hot?”

Draco peered at you with absolute disgust, “I will choose to ignore whatever you just said.”

“I guess not then,” you sighed as you folded your arms and stomped behind him. You hoped you could get a little mixture of every supernatural fantasy, maybe dip your toe into the Twilight world before you returned home.

Your steps stopped as you approached a beautiful red car. It was a real vintage that you only saw in movies or sportscar conventions. The top was down, and you were ready for a vintage seventies trip.

“Wow,” you awed as you ran your fingers over the cool metal as you made your way to the passenger side.

“I know,” Draco smiled brightly, as he sat into the driver's seat.

You stared at him before snorting at his ridiculous actions.

“Does this car drive itself?” You snorted at him as he put on his sunglasses. He pointed to the middle, and just like magic, another pair appeared. You put them on rolling your eyes.

“It can,” he shrugged after a moment, before starting the engine with a button. “But I like driving it.”

“Draco, do you even have your license?” You quirked an eyebrow at the boy.

“Of course I do,” he sneered, but he was too happy to make it hateful. “The only reason I got this for my birthday last year was that I passed.”

“Aww,” you swooned at him, sarcastically. “Daddy bought you a nice car for your sweet sixteen?”

Draco smirked at you, bringing his glasses down a bit before winking, “I’m twenty-two.”

The car drove off speedily, as he rammed the pedal.

“Fuck off,” you shot back. “You’re still in high school.”

Draco just snickered, the wind blew through his hair. He rested his elbow on the edge, letting the wind run through his fingers. He smiled, as tilted his head back and you almost screamed at him to look at the road.

“We learned about your education system in muggle studies,” he spoke, not looking at you. “It is quite a scam, really. But we do not have what you muggles call universities. Hogwarts and other magical institutions teach everything you need to know.”

“Then how do you become a scholar?” You furrowed your eyebrows. It doesn’t make sense that education is limited to just a few years of study, and then expect wizards to know all.

“You work in that field, you dedicate your life to that magic,” he shrugged, before continuing. “The wizarding world is not built on capitalism where jobs are everything. Wizards do not need a job to survive.”

You nodded taking it all that in. You sunk into your seat and looked at the scene that rushed past you. It was beautiful.

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re still in Hogwarts,” you frowned at him.

Draco just sighed, annoyed. “Hogwarts is all the education a wizard needs. I shouldn’t have to spell out that would take some time. Each Hogwarts year is two years long.”

“The maths doesn’t add up.” You muttered, folding your arms as you turned away from him. You watched as the plain hills and lakes rushed by you.

You closed your eyes and welcomed the cold crisp wind jolting you awake.

“Don’t stress your pretty muggle mind,” was all Draco said.

__________

“Draco,” you stopped the blonde boy as he reached for another vile. “I know I’m not an expert at magic, but I do have a feeling that it is quite possible to overdose on potions.”

Draco stared at you, his eyes examining you and then the bottle in his hand. He sighed as he put in back.

“I guess two should be enough,” and then as an afterthought put two more into the inner pockets of his jacket. “Alright, stand still now.”

He pulled out a small jar from his bag and he opened it to reveal black paint. He dipped two fingers in before motioning you to come closer. You stood in between his parted legs, as he sat on the hood of his car parked a few miles away from where the Quidditch World Cup was taking place.

You gasped slightly as the cool paint touched your face. You tried hard not to look at Draco’s face, despite the burning feeling of his gaze fixed on you.

You gulped to calm your heart that was beating louder than it should be.

Draco’s fingers dragged along your cheek, leaving two lines. And then he held your chin with his thumb turning your face to the other side.

Your eyes met his piercing ones, and your breath got caught at the back off your throat.

God, you thought he was gorgeous from far away. But right now, from this close, you realised there were no words to describe just how incredibly good-looking he was. His skin was clear, soft and reminded you of snow-covered mountains in the middle of blooming winter. You realised his eyes weren’t blue or grey, no, there were a colour that reminded you of winter mornings.

You felt your cheeks heat as his eyes took you in.

You felt his fingers touch your face with the cool paint.

Draco took his time, his hands moving slowly as he softly ran his fingers along your cheeks. You didn’t want them to ever stop, you wanted it to continue.

You wanted his fingers to trace your ear, then travel down your neck, and keep moving south.

You bit your lip as your eyes shut involuntarily.

You could feel the vicious victory smile plastered smugly on Draco’s handsome face but you couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes.

Draco’s fingers stopped on your cheek by your ear, and you thought it was over.

But then you felt the ghost of his touch trail down. His knuckles tracing the slope of your face for the slightest moment, and then it was gone.

He pushed you back, making your eyes shoot open.

You stared at him, glowering, before fear flashed through them as Draco pulled out his wand.

He snorted, as he rose a perfect eyebrow at you, “Scared, muggle?”

You rolled your eyes as you chuckled at him, “Are you trying to create sexual tension with me as you do with Harry Potter?”

Draco took a deep breath as if holding onto the last bit of self-control he had. He opened his eyes, burning with anger, his jaw locked.

“You’re not denying it,” you smirked, folding your arms.

“Do not test me, muggle,” he sneered, his voice dripping with so much anger, you took a step back in fear.  

The smirk fell from your lips as your eyes bounced between the ground and the vicious muggle-hating boy.

He cleared his throat after a moment, his stiff body relaxing slightly. You didn’t follow his shift in tension and remained on the edge of the road not nearing him.

Draco noticed but didn’t say anything.

“Time to make you invisible.” He got up from the car, and walked towards you, his wand dancing between his long fingers.

___________

“I’m so excited!” you giggled as you turned to a sour-faced Draco. “I’ve never gone to quidditch game before.”

“Lucky you,” he muttered, sourly, his eyes following you. “Your first game, and it is in the Minister’s box.”

You just giggled as you skipped along, only to stop when you noticed the older Malfoy laughing with some old man.

Draco came behind you, his breath brushing your ear, “Stay behind me.”

You nodded trailing behind him. 

You didn’t speak or move while you were around Lucius Malfoy. You weren’t sure if you were even breathing at times.

You must’ve been doing a good job because Draco would look over his shoulder occasionally to check if you were still there.

You watched Draco meet the other old men, and kept looking around for someone who might be suspicious.

It wasn’t until halfway through the game when Draco got up from his seat and turned to his father.

“Would it be alright for me to go greet Goyle and Crabbe?” He asked, his eyes darting to you for a split second. “I’ve spotted them down in first.”

Lucius Malfoy just waved a hand, but Draco didn’t need more as he began walking away, with you hot on his heels.

“Oh my god,” you whined as you both stopped somewhere on the stairs. “I couldn’t even enjoy the game properly I was so scared.”

Draco stared at you for a moment before snorting.

He pulled out a ticket from his coat, and then, after a second, a lady with a cart appeared.

“Greetings, sir,” the lady grinned, before gesturing to the cart. “What would you like?”

Draco lifted an eyebrow to you as you took in the delicious food displayed.

“Hotdogs?” You asked Draco who hadn’t looked away from you. “What is traditional to have at these games?”

“Two hotdogs,” Draco told the lady, and instantly two appeared in his hands. He didn’t say thank you, and the lady didn’t wait, disappearing right after.

He handed you one.

“Thank you,” you whispered, taking a big bite. You chewed the most delicious hotdog you had ever tasted, and Draco snickered as he saw your eyes widen.

You rolled your eyes as you saw him begin to gloat from the pride of his Wizard world, and how your muggle realm couldn’t even compare. He was right, but you couldn’t stand his smug face.

You sniffled as the cool wind ran through your hair. You looked out to the field where a team scored another goal.

“Good thing you got merch for the winning team,” you smiled at Draco who frowned.

“I was hoping they would lose.” He clipped back.

“You would rather have me visible, then stand next to you in clothes supporting the losing team, Draco,” you shook your head at him, giggling.

Draco looked out onto the field, “Or maybe I’m living through you.”

Your smile flattered as you took in the young boy.

There he was standing in the middle of the finals of the biggest quidditch tournament of the season. The crowds roaring behind him in the bright stadium lights as he remained polished in his black suit and perfect hair. He couldn’t even support the team he wanted.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he spat as his eyes looked at you. “I don’t need your pity, filthy muggle.”

You glared at him before looking above you.

“Oh my, it’s Harry Potter,” you gasped.

Draco followed your gaze and then growled in distaste, rolling his eyes.

_____________

Draco’s father had disappeared by the time you returned to the Minister’s box, but neither of you minded. You walked through the crowds as you took in all the different people jeer around you.

You followed the crowd as it led towards a ground filled with tents and lights.

“What’s that?” you breathed looking over the crowd milling over the place.

“That’s the sewer,” Draco spat scanning the area with disgust. Your eyes met his and he rolled his eyes as the poison lessened. “It’s the breeding ground for muggles, blood traitors and mudbloods.”

You ignored his bad behaviour and looked over at the place in longing instead. You took in the rides, music and laughter and felt the need to go there.

“Can we go?” You asked Draco in the sweetest way you could.

“No,” he bit back in disgust.

“Please?” You begged, making Draco’s face curl into a sneer.

“Fine,” you huffed and began marching off by yourself. “I’ll go explore by myself. You can wait for me here if you want.”

You heard Draco groan in frustration before you heard loud footsteps behind you, “Five minutes.”

You turned to him with a huge grin, “Thank you!”

Draco rolled his eyes and followed your happy skipping form into the campsite.

However, your happiness didn’t last long. An unsettling feeling settled into your stomach making it churn with nerves. You looked around the campsite you were pretty well inside, and you felt your hands begin to shake.

The air thickened with ominous energy, some darkness, but you couldn’t put your finger in.

“What’s wrong?” Draco ordered from beside you. You turned to look at him with glazed eyes. He stared at you, his brows furrowing.

A little kid ran up to you, holding onto your hand, “Do you want to know your destiny, mam?”

You turned to the kid, your mind raging, but you nodded offering him a small smile.

Draco muttered something under his breath but followed closely behind you nonetheless.

You looked at the site, and images began flashing through your mind. It was scenes from the movies. It was the golden trio, and the Weasley twins... and something else, something else you couldn’t remember.

Suddenly, you remembered screams and pain.

You looked around looking for some clue, but you couldn’t remember.

The kid took you inside a tent, a dark-faced Draco behind you, his eyes focused on you.

And then it hit you.

Hot. Flames. Fire. Lucius Malfoy. Death Eaters.

You turned to Malfoy with wide-eyes but it wasn’t almost as if he saw your mind.

“We need to get out of here. Now.” He ordered, grabbing your hand and pulling you away.

Before you were out, you turned to the kid, your throat dry, “Run. Get your friends and family, tell everyone to run, now.”

The kid looked frightened but then nodded running off.

Draco kept leading you out, and somewhere in the distance, a woman’s bloodcurdling scream rang through the night.

You both turned to see flames erupt across the sea of tents, spreading fast. Draco’s grip tightened on your hand as he began running towards the forest.

You could feel the heat of the flames closing in around you. The temperature rising with every step you tried taking away from it. And then you were beating it, the flames moving further and further away as Draco took you to the forest.

You stopped at the edge and turned to the sight in front of you.

The music, lights and happiness all burning in the flames of hell now. Screams and cries tore through the night, and you felt your heart tear into pieces.

You fell onto your knees as each cry of pain cut through your skin. You held onto Draco’s hand, squeezing it tight to keep you in reality. You closed your eyes as a heartwrenching sob fell from you.

Your body shook as uncontrollable sobs raked through your body.

You could’ve stopped it. You could’ve done something. If only you remembered.

Your hand gripped the front of your jumper, thumping against your chest as you silently shook as your sorrow and guilt tore through your body.

Draco didn’t move. He stood there, cold.

His hand limp in yours as you squeezed it tight.

“Shouldn’t you be getting that one out of here?” His cold words spoke. You opened your eyes to find the golden trio. Your eyes met Hermonine’s for a moment before Harry and Ron dragged her away.

Draco didn’t move. He watched as flames raged on. He stood there as you clutched onto his hand as if your life depended on it.

The camp was nothing but smoke and ashes when you finally stopped crying. You felt empty. You didn’t have anything inside you.

Draco bent down to your side, his voice void of any emotion, “Let’s go.”

You turned towards him, letting him help you up. Once you were standing up, you looked into his eyes as tears fell from your eyes.

“I could’ve saved them, Draco.”

[dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade]

Run

Request: HERE  A/N: Writing some pure and reckless Jake is always so much fun, it’s a breath of fresh air from all the work I have going on at the moment. I am glad I got this request, thank you @lara-gvf, hope you like it!! Critiques and comments are welcome! Enjoy :) Word count: 2.1 K+ Warnings: drinking and well... mentions of nudity, nothing explicit though. I’d rate it a PG 15

To be added to the permanent taglist, DM me or leave an ask!

Fanfiction Masterlist

You stood in front of the door to the Kiszka’s residence, tapping your foot to the pavement as you felt the heaviness of your bags in your arms. You rang the doorbell again and knocked on the wooden door. “Open up, Jake or I’m gonna throw all the Jack on the pavement!”

You knew that that was the thing that would motivate Jake to move his ass to the door faster. You were not surprised when you heard the key turn and you heard the door open.

“Throwing the Jack away is straight up madness and waste of money,” said Sam. “Jake’s getting ready,” he added and winked at you. You rolled your eyes, already used to all of the Kiszkas always assuming that you and Jake were dating, a common misunderstanding due to your closeness.

Reality was that you have been crushing on him for a while now, but you tried to play it cool. You knew that Sam knew, because one evening, him and Josh got you drunk and you partly admit the truth, but you have been trying to deny it ever since.

“You know, he bought a new cologne, special for tonight,” Sam added as he closed the door.

“Happy for him, but what’s the occasion?” you played dumb.

“You know, getting drunk with the girl he likes, at his place, you know,” he smirked.

“You’re a dumbass, Sam,” you heard Jake’s raspy voice. You turned your head and a smile bloomed on your lips at his sight. “Hi, Y/N. I bet you got used to how Sam is,” he continued, accentuating the last part.

“How Sam is?” Jake’s younger brother repeated in a mocking voice. “How is he?” he asked and cocked an eyebrow. “From what I know about him, I can tell he’s hot, talented, gets the chicks…”

“You made your point,” Jake answered, totally giving up.

“How’s that new riff coming along?” you suddenly ask, your eyes locking with Jake’s. You actually just remembered that he told you a couple of days ago that he was working on something new and that he was going to play the new piece for you whenever you’d get around.

“Come on, you’re both so boring,” Sam laughed and took the two bottles of Jack Daniels that you brought along and put it on the kitchen table. “I’m gonna pour the first round, Jake, you take care of the music.”

You followed Jake to the record player in the corner of the room and sat on the floor as his fingers skillfully flicked through the boxes of records. His brows furrowed from time to time, then they’d rise, as if he was surprised by something. He’d stop for few moments and look at a certain record, then he’d resume his search.

“I’m almost done with it, I can play it for you later this evening if you want,” he finally answered your question as he finally chose a record and put it in the player.

You walked together into the kitchen, catching Sam already down the first glass. “You’re already one behind,” he laughed, throwing his head back.

You and Jake were quick to catch up. Out of the three of you, Jake had the highest tolerance to alcohol, while yours was almost zero. This being said, it didn’t take you long to start laughing from every little thing and start speaking out loud every single thought in your head.

“How about we play something?” Sam grinned and cracked his knuckles.

“Right, but first, we’ve got to stay hydrated,” Jake said and you stifled a giggle. He sounded just like a concerned mom in that moment. Jake rested his hand on your thigh for a brief moment before he sat up and got clean glasses for the water. Your whole body shuddered at Jake’s hand there. Even now, moments after he was gone, it was like you could still feel the trace of it.

Jake sat down the three glasses on the table and refilled the ones for the whiskey. He poured a little bit more in his and added two more ice cubes since the previous ones have melted.

“There’s nothing better than some Jack on the rocks,” he mumbles almost to himself as he takes a considerable sip of his freshly poured drink. Even though he wouldn’t admit it, he was getting pretty drunk, just like you and Sam. “Right, so, what you wanted to play?”

“Truth or dare,” Sammy answered and a mischievous smile appeared on his face.

It was like his words brought a little bit of soberness into you. For a moment, you felt in danger. Drunken truth or dare never ended well. You nervously sipped some of the cold ice water and you could feel yourself slightly returning to your senses.

“What d’you say?” Jake slurred and snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Alright. Truth or dare it is,” you gulp loudly. Sam didn’t even bother to hide the contentment on his face.

“Okay kids, these are the rules: you can deny only two dares in the whole game, but after you consumed your denials, you must choose one of the previously denied dares. Other rules is that there are none.” Sam informed and cleared his throat.

“I’ll go first. Dare,” Jake spoke.

“I dare you to… chug the rest of the bottle,” Sam answered and held up the Jack bottle with only a few sips left in it.

“That’s the best you got?” Jake laughed and unscrewed the cap and let his head fall back as he poured every last drop of whiskey. “Pathetic. Your turn.”

“Truth.”

“Chicken,” Jake mocked his brother and you laughed. “Is it true that you secretly have an altar for Justin Bieber in the back of your closet?”

“What the hell?” Sam laughed loudly and shook his head. “No!”

“My turn,” you chirped after the brothers were done taking the piss out of each other. “Dare. Because I am not a chicken, unlike Sam,” you accentuate your last words.

“I dare you to make out with Jake, right here, right now,” Sam grinned.

“Dude, you have to be more, you know, less obvious?” Jake pitched in, his cheeks gaining a rosy tint.

“I’m gonna deny it,” you swallow loudly.

“Careful there, you have only one more denial,” Sam grinned. “I dare you to set a chair on fire.”

“What?” you exclaim. He was absurd. Why would you do that? “I’m denying it.”

“I dare you to run around naked on the street,” he answered.

Your jaw basically dropped. Sam was an actual evil genius. He knew exactly how to get you to do something you didn’t want to do.

“And what happens if I deny this one, too?” you raise an eyebrow.

“You’ll have to choose between one of these three challenges,” Sam shrugged.

The burning chair sounded tempting but there was no way in hell you were going to risk a mass fire to the whole neighborhood. You weren’t a moron – you did study history and you knew how the Great Fire of London from 1666 started.

“Guess I’ll go running,” you sigh and stand up. “But first I got to use the washroom.”

You walk inside of the bathroom and turn on the tap and wash your face with the cold water. You looked at yourself in the mirror and shook your head. Drunken truth or dare was always a bad idea. No exceptions.

“Because Jake jumped in to save his little princess, he will suffer the same fate as you,” Sam announced as you walked out of the washroom.

“What if someone calls the cops on us?” Jake asks as you turned your head towards him. You saw that he already had his shirt off and the belt was laying on the couch, his jeans zipper already undone. You caught yourself blushing as another wave of soberness washed over you.

“That will be your problem, not mine. Guess who’s the dumbass now.”

“Can I at least keep my panties on?” you sigh and furrow your brows at the absurdity of your question.

Sam squeezed his eyes a little, as if he was thinking about it. “Nope. Then where would the fun be?”

You went back in the kitchen and completely downed the rest of your drink and tossed aside the grey joggers you had on and the t-shirt. Once you were completely undressed, you wrapped a fresh towel that you just received around your body and stepped outside of the house, basically wearing only sneakers.

You met Jake in the middle of the street who also had a towel around his waist. Your eyes met his and the only thing you could make out behind the half-drunk eyes was an apologetic look.

“Listen up dumbasses! One of you is going to run to the left and the other one to the right and you will make a lap around the neighborhood. It shouldn’t last longer than three minutes unless someone decides to call the cops. I promise I won’t look,” Sam giggled before whistling.

“I won’t look either,” Jake said as you were back-to-back, waiting to start running.

At Sam’s signal, you let your towel fall on the cement and you basically sprinted as fast as your feet allowed you to the corner of the street and then around it. You only saw Jake for a fraction of a second, as if he were a ghost in a dream.

“That’s fucking traumatic,” you mutter as you walk inside the house, wrapped in your towel once again.

“Tell me about it,” Jake rolled his eyes and guided you inside.

The inside of the house was enveloped in darkness.  While Jake went to his room to get back into his clothes, you went into the kitchen and gathered yours and put them on in a hurry. The alcohol has completely worn down thanks to the cold air outside and the adrenaline rushing through your veins.

“He’s asleep,” Jake whispered as you walked into the living room.

“Huh,” you stifle a laugh. “Then I guess I must go.”

“You can stay,” Jake said a little louder than before, catching you off-guard. “You can sleep in my room, I’ll get the couch.”

“If I stay, I’m getting the couch, and you the room,” you correct him and you could see in the darkness a smile on his face.

“How about we’re both getting the couch?”

Your brain didn’t quite catch it on time, so before you realized what was Jake trying to do, his lips were against yours. “Hope that’s alright?” Jake whispered and you could feel his eyes on your face.

You didn’t bother with words anymore, so you just pressed your lips against his in an open mouth kiss. Jake’s arms wrapped around your waist, slowly pushing you closer to the couch and eventually you both collapsed on it with a muffled thud.

“Y/N,” Jake whispered in-between desperate kisses. “I really, really like you.”

“I like you, too, and I have for a long time,” you admitted and felt as if a stone had been lifted off your chest.

Jake inched closer to you and your lips collided again, with a lot more softness, but increasingly becoming hungrier and more desperate. Jake softly bit your bottom lip and tugged at it, gaining control of the kiss, earning a couple shy whimpers from you.

Once his lips left yours, you felt them puffy and in need for more. Jake however, he pressed his lips against your neck, softly at first, but soon he also bit and sucked onto that one spot, until he was rewarded by a soft moan leaving your lips. You tangled your fingers in his long hair and softly brought his lips back to yours.

“Do you want to go out with me?” Jake whispered in-between kisses, running his hands down your sides.

“I would really like that,” you whisper back to him, catching your breath.

With one last soft kiss, you could feel him smile against your lips.

The two of you shuffled a bit on the narrow couch, but you eventually found the perfect position. You were laying on top, your feet entangled and Jake had an arm over your shoulder. You took in a deep breath and you could finally take in and analyze the scent of his body. Even though you have always been around him, this felt intimate. His t-shirt smelled of a mix of smoke, cologne and his whole body emanated a slight smell due to the alcohol.

It didn’t take you long to doze off into a peaceful sleep as Jake ran his fingers through your hair, absent-mindedly and pressing from time to time soft kisses to your scalp.

Tags: @myownparadise96​, @satans-helper, @jeordinevankiszka, @littlegeekwonder​, @songbirdkisses​, @pomegranatecurses, @angelstraightfr0mhell​, @freeeshavacadoo​, @karrotkate​, @mountainofthesunn​, @bigthighsandstupidguys​, @starshinekiszka​

[jonah-aesthetic]

Complications -part one- Daniel Seavey

Daniel Seavey X Bre

Requested: nope, but part of the limelight cupid for @superseavey and made by @whydontwecry

Plot: Two best friends happen to be in love with each other. All the boys know and keep telling them that the other is in love with them. None of them believe until the very last second and everything falls apart the next morning.

Word Count: 2,143

A/N: So this is for the beautiful Bre, I know it’s long waited but here it is. Also I made it a small series since the story evolved a little too big and kept getting bigger. If you see a similar format like this one, it’s probably because @thatcanadianfangirl is my main blog.

He laid on the perfectly grey couch, letting the cushions take in his figure. Daniel’s arms are thrown over his head supporting his vision to line with the TV. Lilo And Stitch playing on the screen, which oddly happened to be my favourite Disney movie. Scratch that, I’m a Disney kid that meant I adored them all. Though Lilo And Stitch is my all time favourite Disney Movie.

As I continued to analyse him, his bare chest popped at me. His body slightly tighter than the last time I saw him. Biceps beginning to bulge out a little more, making me gawk at him for a bit longer before my eyes moved on. Black joggers were tugged low, resting on his “V” line, his untouched hair from the day before appeared flawless in my mind. 

The heavy presence of someone behind me, pulled me out of my trance that Daniel always seemed to put me in. Hot breath fanned my left ear, “Staring and drooling over him doesn’t really help any of us. Now does it?” The soft voice of Corbyn flowed to me making my head snap to the floor. Of course there just happened to be a pool of drool right between my feet. I’m so pathetic sometimes.

In a swift movement my foot lunged forward and swiped it up. I instantly regretted it as my saliva seeped through my sock, soaking my toes. Gross, I really need to think before I do anything! I turned around to face him, as his blue eyes watched me. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I said a little confidently. 

Corbyn scoffed and rolled his eyes dramatically causing me to do the same. My arms crossed over my chest ready for his response. “Everyone in this very house knows that you two are pining for each other, yet you guys are too blind to notice any of it.” Corbyn said with a serious tone, like this was the most important thing in the world right now. I beg to differ.

“What are you guys talking about.” Daniel silky voice startled me, both of us turned to see Daniel’s full attention on us. Daniel’s ocean blue eyes filled with something I couldn’t define, “Just easy details for Cupid’s day game plan.” Corbyn spoke up. My gaze on Corbyn again as he quickly raised his eyes in a see-what-I-mean-the-guys-inlove-with-you look. I rolled my eyes again so Daniel couldn’t see our silent conversation.

I wasn’t so sure about Daniel and I being in love with each other. It seemed way too cliche to be real, from the way the I was looking at it anyways. If Daniel really did have an interest in me why didn’t he make a move or at least say something about. Maybe he didn’t want to ruin the great friendship you shared. 

Deep down I wanted to believe it I really did, because we had an amazing friendship. But lately I’ve been missing how we use to be, fooling around with each other, watching Disney movies in the late night. But right now there was a block of distance between us. Though I only took it as a small bump in the road.

I’ve been lusting after him for so long and I’m just starting to get over him. But god was that a hard task, Daniel was a perfect human being. He’s attractive that’s not hard to see, but his personality is the one thing I adore most. 

My gaze turned back to Daniel to see what his response to that is. “why? we always have a cupids day game plan meeting with the whole house.” Daniel went against it, Before Corbyn could defend his case, Jonah walked in with Zach and Jack trailing him.

“Jesus Danny someone’s a little jealous.” Zach piped in. “Anyway he probably needs help with his and Christina’s special day, that none of us could ever help with since we’re of the male gender.” Jonah came to the rescue as well. I smiled lightly, sometimes I just loved these idiots. They got my back like no other. 

Daniel sat up right after we all made our way to the couch, reading for CDGPM (cupids day game plan meeting) he leaned forward resting his elbows on his thighs, why had that hit the core? I closed my eyes harshly. I’m pretty sure I started seeing black dots in my vision.

puppies eating McDonald’s fries  

Wow this was way hard than I thought

“Why do I feel like everyone’s against me? Daniel asked with a pure face. “Because everyone is, well except Bre of course.” Jack commented, I snapped my head towards him in a slight warning. Usually the boys never implied my liking to Daniel. He only replied with a huge smirk spreading across his face.

“Anyway lets begin our discussion. absolutely no bring the opposite gender home, six of us live here. We don’t want to here your pleasure.-”

“Why did you say the opposite gender?” Daniel asked slightly suspicious, “Sorry but you guys aren’t the only ones who enjoy sex.” I responded to him a little defended he asked that. “I guess we just forgot some females aren’t submissive.” Jonah had excused Daniel’ s behaviour.

I shook my head, “Well we all know the rules of cupid’s day, lets continue, Corbyn” his game plan was always first. “Why is it me who’s always first?” He whined, “you’re the only one in a relationship so spit it out.” Jack said, Corbyn sighed, “I’m obviously taking Christina out and probably heading to her house after. the same plan as it was last year and the year before that.”

“Yeah we should of just skipped you.” Zach said waving his hand in his direction already knowing his plan. “Well Logan’s having V day party and Me, Jonah and Jack were probably going to head over there. We’d defiantly crash there too” Daniel had explained,

I nodded not wanting to prier open my overthinking box. “Baby Zachary,” I spoke up turning my attention to him, he furrowed, his eyebrows knitted together as he glared at me. “Stop calling be that it’s embarrassing.” Zach tried to say it with a stern voice but the very vibrant blush poked through. 

“Man you know when she gives you a nickname there’s no going back.” Jack reminded him, I let a giggle slip, “He’s right your stuck with it Baby Z.” Jonah said teasing him, “let’s just carry on. like every Cupid’s day I’m staying home with Bre, watching Disney movies. A regular Wednesday night.” He shrugged, but the only problem was that wasn’t my plan for tonight. 

“Okay that’s the close to our discussion.” Daniel jumped up from the couch and clapped his hands slightly eager. Before the guys could take off I called out “Wait! you guys just blew off my game plan, which by the way is rude.” I made eye contact with Daniel the whole time I spoke. 

“No, your plan is the exact same as Zach’s.” Jack had tackled my confusion first. I smirked, right I haven’t told them yet. “Actually not this cupid’s day, I’m bored of just watching movies every time. So I’m going on a date with a guy that I’ve been talking to for a few weeks now.” I said to the boys. 

It was step one in the plan to get over Daniel. 

I really did think it was time to move on from Daniel, I’ve been pining after him for a few years now. And its getting kind of pathetic now, he’s one of my best friends and I do think it’s best in the long run. Maybe we did get together and broke up after a few months. Leaving me to the curb because the band was his family not mine, they’d take his side. I know it.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Corbyn asked a little shocked. I shrugged ‘I was seeing if we flowed together, there was no point on telling you guys if it was nothing.” I explained myself, “Right.” Jack said. But I could see the sliver of hurt resting in Corbyn’s eyes. Because I should of told him anyways, no matter if it worked or didn’t. He knows it too, ‘cause he’s my childhood best friend.

“Who is he?” Daniel’s stained voice knocked our attention to him. His face was ghost white and expressionless. Blue eyes dulling to a grey, I can see it know. Of all the moments we shared this was the one. I saw that he was in love with me, maybe it was the other guy. Taking me away from my Daniel’s trance enough to realise what we actually shared between us. 

Maybe it’s a bad idea to go out with Grayson now. Now that I knew Daniel felt something for me, but I wasn’t the one who was going to right say. Making myself that vulnerable in front of the guys, because to them I was kind of a badass queen. So I picked Grayson, that was defiantly that wrong choice, but what was I suppose to do.

“Grayson Dolan.” It was almost a whisper because I now knew how he felt. “Great.” he said flatly before walking off, it almost feels like I could feel his pain. Because I can see every sign that showed he was upset like it glowed right in my face. 

“Guys I see it and I think it’s too late.” 

“No, He’ll always love you.”

Corbyn sat on my bed as I analysed myself in the mirror, taking different positions to see what side was my best. Every single one was, I was stunning. Not to be cocky or anything, but I was. “You’re gorgeous, Bre. what are you doing?” Corbyn asked connecting eyes with me through the mirror, his eyebrows raised. 

“Wondering why I’m not going out with Daniel tonight.” I said grabbing the sides of the red dress. I watched as Corbyn shook his head, “Just try to enjoy tonight, worry in the morning, we don’t have time for this.”  I smiled, “Why are you always right?” 

“I’m your best friend, I’m always right Bre.” 

“Whatever you say Blondie boy.” 

There I was wear a beautiful red dress, it was off the shoulder with a firm material. a deep V neck that might have been a bit revealing, it was thigh high in front and soon got longer until it hit the floor in the back. It also supported an open back, stopping just above my butt. Red lipstick tracing my lips matching the red pumps on my feet. My raven black hair rounds in perfect curls. 

“I’m ready.” I said with a wide smile, 

“I know, you’ve been ready for the past thirty minutes.”  Corbyn replies back.

“shut up lets go.” 

Once me and Corbyn reached the bottom of the stairs the boys were already dressed and about to take on the night no matter where it leads them. They all looked good in their Christian Grey looking attire, the only difference was it was red and black. 

The moment Daniel stood up, time ran slow, he wore a blood red dress shirt tucked into his dress pants. sleeves rolled to his upper fore arm, his hands looking delicious. His brown hair whipped to his level of perfection, Blue eyes no longer dull which made me slightly at ease about what happened earlier. 

“Wow.” We both said. before anything else is said the door bell rings. “Grayson’s here.” I smiled averting my eyes to the door. forgetting about the moment that happened between us. Corbyn pulled me in my the waist and kissed me on the ear, “Remember to have enough fun to forget about him.” Corbyn whispered. 

Even if this ends badly, I know I’ll have Corbyn.

I smiled before walking off, “Ill see you boys tomorrow, Ill see you later Zach.” I called behind me as I walked towards the door, all the boys called their goodbyes as I reached the door, I swung it open and was meet with a tone and handsome boy. His eyes ran around my body before meeting my eyes, “God you’re more gorgeous than you appear on screen.” A laugh erupted, “Thanks Grayson.” 

He wore a red dress shirt and casual black skinny jeans. A tie wrapped around his neck vaguely lose. His outfit wrapped around him tight, when I mean tight I meant if he moved a button would pop. His pants hugged his thighs perfectly and little tighter around his little friend. Maybe I could have fun tonight. 

“Shall we go?” 

“Absolutely Bre.” He spoke formally grabbing my hand into his as he lead me from the house. I close the door and the last thing I saw was Daniel’s clenched jaw. I swallowed the light guilt I had left.

[v-the-adventurer]

January (Graceland Angst Fic)

Okay so this is my first time posting any of my own writing on tumblr? I’ve been lurking for years, you guys, years, so I figured it was finally time to contribute. That said, be kind lol. This one isn’t strictly a sickfic, but it does feature some casual emeto so if that’s not your thing, don’t read. Trigger warning for suicide.

Mike slowly drifted into consciousness, waking like every other morning during his placement at Graceland. The orange glow of the rising sun filtered in through the windows and the soft light was gentle as the young agent blinked awake. He let his eyelids fall closed as he stretched his languid body, feeling comfortable and warm beneath the comforter of his now-familiar bed.

Five months had passed since the bureau had sent him out to California, but it had taken a long time for Mike to feel comfortable out west. Between his new job and roommates, the unfamiliar climate, and the lifestyle change that accompanied moving cross country, the agent had had a lot to adapt to. Even the actual house had been difficult to get used to. It was filled to the brim with decor, but it felt like a showroom. Everything was just impersonal enough to remind him that the people in this house were replaceable. It wasn’t--and never would be--a real home.

But nevertheless, Mike had persevered. The culture shock had eventually worn off and he was finally starting to find his footing. He’d warmed up to his housemates, however impossible it had initially seemed. It had started with conversations over breakfast but as the time passed it progressed to nights out at The Drop and excursions to the beach. Things with his roommates were good right now, and Mike wanted more than anything for it to stay that way.

While his life at the house had gotten significantly easier, the same could not be said for his cases. The work he was doing was incredibly draining and he found himself struggling to stay out of the moral grey areas. Countless times he had stepped over the line for a case, but it was easy for him to justify his own actions. He did it to keep evil off the streets, to save people from the world of drugs, to prevent violence. No matter how he did it, he could always comfort himself with the fact that the bad would outweigh the good. Learning to sell your lies was an art, but lately it felt like he was buying too many of his own.

As the agent woke more fully, he reached for his phone to turn off his alarms. He’d woken before they sounded, for some reason, but he paid it little mind as he unlocked the screen. He flicked through his notifications lazily, messages from friends on the east coast who’d already been up for a few hours. There was one from his dad, which was rare. They had a strained relationship in the best of times, which wasn’t exactly conducive to random texts. Mike furrowed his brows as he read the message.

It’s a tough day, stay strong.

At first he was confused. Had the text been meant for someone else? Mike swiped through to the calendar app on his phone, hoping to find a clue there, but as the date flashed across his screen it hit him like a truck. The abrupt realization stole his breath and the sudden nausea he felt had him leaping from bed and running to the bathroom. He retched until he was empty, left gasping for breath over the rim of the toilet.

Today, it had been one year since the day his little sister committed suicide.

The nausea quickly gave way to guilt, and the sudden weight in Mike’s shoulders had him anchored to the spot. He couldn’t breathe past the growing lump in his throat, but Mike knew the pain in his chest was from more than a lack of air. He felt as though all of the wind had been knocked out of him. He was crying, he noticed, as a tear slid down to his chin. How could he have forgotten the worst day of his life?

When the agent was finally able to pull himself up from the tile floor, he only managed to stagger back to his bed. He was exhausted by the short walk, and there was not a chance in hell that he would be going downstairs anytime soon. He was too emotionally drained to see anyone, led alone eat. Depression had crept in like a filthy snake and moving felt like an impossible task. He spent the better part of the morning laying in bed, taking advantage of the fact that the rest of the world was still asleep. He sipped at the cup of water he’d brought with him from the bathroom, but nothing could wash the taste of bile and blood from his mouth.

He needed a distraction, he realized, but music from his headphones could do nothing to console him. The tears steadily flowed as he listened to the quiet chords of songs he had never heard, and as he sank into the sheets he couldn’t help but feel sorry for himself. On the east coast today, his family would all be together, mourning together. They would be looking out for each other, watching movies and playing board games to pass the time. But here, in his too-big bed in an empty house, Mike was all alone with his grief.

Except, not really. He knew it was raising a red flag with his roommates that he had yet to come out of his room. They’d likely be concerned, but the last thing he needed was for them to find out. He’d seen “the look” too many times to count in the months since his sister passed, the odd mix of horror, pity, and discomfort that played across the faces of those who heard. It was always followed by a stiff, “I’m sorry for your loss”, and damn if that didn’t make Mike want to punch someone in the face.

The funeral had been one of the hardest days of his life. He’d nearly chosen not to go, unable to find a purpose in it. It wouldn’t bring her back; nothing would. But when he saw the scared, confused eyes of his four year old nephew, the heartbreaking sadness that Mike felt was more compelling than anything he’d experienced in his entire life. So with his nephew resting on his hip, Mike went to the ceremony.

They said he would feel a sense of closure, but as Mike watched them bury her, all he could feel was empty.

He wanted to get drunk, he realized. Impossibly and immeasurably wasted. Maybe the numbing haze of the alcohol would stop the void in his chest from growing. It felt like there was a hole in his lungs, but he hoped beyond hoped that the alcohol would act as a patch. In his biggest show of strength for the day, Mike rose from the bed and slipped into a pair of joggers and a white tee. His muscles ached and he felt vaguely nauseous, but he walked downstairs anyways. He got into the kitchen slowly, mentally preparing himself for the barrage of questions he was sure to receive.

“Where’ve you been, sleepyhead?” Paige teased from the stove, ruffling Mike’s hair as he passed. Mike didn’t really respond beyond a half hearted shrug, moving forward towards his singular focus--booze.

“Mike?” Charlie prompted from across the island. “You in there?” She said it around a laugh, but at his lack of response her teasing morphed into worry. Her concern ticked up another notch as Mike lifted the bottle of gin from their alcohol cabinet and took a large swig.

“Dude, it’s like two o’clock. Don’t you think it’s a bit early for that?” Johnny asked after a moment. Mike realized they were all staring at him.

“Not on the east coast,” he mumbled sharply as he retreated from the kitchen with his prize. He felt like a ghost in his own body as he sailed up the stairs, flying under the covers like a robot. The next swig of gin burned all the way down, bringing tears to his eyes. He coughed lightly as the liquid settled in his stomach. His phone buzzed again, a call from his mother, but he let it ring through to voicemail. A shiver ran through him as the events from just one year ago surfaced again in his mind.

He remembered the sound of her voice, the way they’d hugged the last time he left the house. The way that she’d called out to him that she’d see him later, and how she waved at him as he drove away. He also remembered his mother’s screams, the way her face contorted as she sobbed. He remembered the way he’d knelt with her in a pool of bloody water, frozen stiff as the liquid flowed into the next room and stained the carpet. He remembers burning his clothes the next day, and how even after a week’s worth of showers he still hadn’t felt clean. He remembered her lifeless face, now imprinted into the back of his eyelids.

Mike remembered every little detail about that day. How he’d thrown up on the lawn outside the house the moment his sister was taken away, how he’d listened to the zipper of the body bag as it concealed her face for the last time. He remembered shivering in his coat in the biting January wind. He remembered holding his mother until his father arrived. He remembers standing there by himself for hours, not able to bring himself to go back into the house. Neighbors had suffocated them with casserole and gardenias for the next few weeks, but almost as soon as she was in the ground, Ashlyn Marie Warren was forgotten by the world.

As Mike took the last swig from the bottle and rose from the bed, he felt a familiar numbness creep into his limbs. Maybe it was the inebriation but all of a sudden he was ready to face his housemates. He stumbled his way downstairs, depositing the empty bottle into the sink.

“Mike?” Paul called out, stepping into the kitchen from the living room. “You okay?”

And of course Mike opens his mouth to say yes, but then he vomits instead. The gin burns worse on its way back up, and Mike is sure now that he shouldn’t have had an entire fifth on an empty stomach. Paul lunged for a bucket as Mike retched again, catching the sick before it could land on the floor with the rest of Mike’s stomach. Paul’s hand is on his shoulder once he’s done, guiding him around the puke to sit at one of the barstools. Miraculously, none of the vomit had landed on his clothes, but there was still a fair amount on the floor to be cleaned up.

Paul handed Mike a damp rag with which to wipe his face, and then placed a glass of water in front of him. “Drink slowly, kid,” Paul instructed before he called out for Charlie to come down.

Charlie paused when she entered the kitchen, taking in the puddle of sick and her wrecked roommate. Mike was the newest to the house, but still, it had been five months and he’d never done anything like this. The kid was as straight-laced as they came, but what he’d just done made him seem more like an out of control alcoholic than a federal agent.

“I’m sorry,” Mike choked out as he wilted in his chair, a few tears slipping from his eyes, and that was all it took for Charlie to rush into the room. She took a seat next to the rookie, brushing the fallen hairs from his forehead. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers as he gives in and cries. Charlie pulls him into a hug, shooting Paul a confused glance, but the other man knows nothing more than she does. When Mike eventually quiets, Charlie and Paul know they have a limited window to figure this out before Mike closes up back into himself again.

“Mike,” Paul starts, “what’s going on? This isn’t like you.” When Mike hesitates to respond, he adds, “You’re scaring us.” Charlie’s hands find their way into Mike’s hair while he chokes on an answer, and he shudders under her touch. Silent tears are still leaking down his cheeks, but the agent doesn’t seem to notice, too focused on staring at the floor.

Quiet settles over the kitchen like a thick morning fog. Mike is fidgeting with his hands, pulling on each individual finger while he struggles to find a way to explain himself. The way that Charlie plays with his hair is incredibly distracting to his drunken mind, and he kind of drifts off. He’s instantly brought back down to earth by a rough palm on his cheek, prompting him to look up into the eyes of his mentor.

“Kid,” Paul starts, a resigned concern lacing his voice, “You’ve gotta let us in. Is it Bello? Did something happen?” After a moment’s hesitation, “Is it Eddie?”

And all of a sudden Mike’s vomiting again. Just the mention of his name brings back another unwanted and painful memory, another death he has on his own hands. He remembers standing there on the pavement as red pooled from the fresh bullet wound in the Nigerian’s skull, the thick metallic scent of blood and gunfire hanging lowly in the air. He gags on the reminder, wincing as Charlie and Paul stumble back.

Embarrassment colors Mike’s cheeks when he sits back up, and he grimaces at the new pool of sick on the kitchen floor. But Charlie just shushes him as tears run down his cheeks again, and he turns to lean his head into her shoulder. Paul places a protective hand on his rookie’s back as the tears turn to sobs, feeling out of his depth for about the millionth time since Mike stepped into the kitchen.

“M’sorry,” Mike mumbles after a long moment. “For everything.” He’s slurring and his tongue feels like it’s too big for his mouth, but he goes on. “I just didn’t know what else to do. I just couldn’t, couldn’t feel anymore.”

Charlie wraps him in a tight hug as he breathes in shuddering gasps, fighting for control of his emotions. “What is it, baby? What happened?”

“I just miss my sister,” he chokes out around a sob, and his throat sounds like it’s been cut with glass. “Hate being an only child.”

And there it is, the piece of the puzzle that Charlie and Paul have been missing. This isn’t just some random act of rebellion or retaliation. It’s grief. It’s anger and pain and mourning and Mike just couldn’t deal with it. Charlie tenses for a moment as the reality of the situation sets in, but she shakes off the surprise as quickly as it came. Paul just steps back and grabs a seat at the barstool adjacent to Mike’s and rests a hand on his rookie’s neck. This moment is just another reminder that they really don’t know that much about each other, that they’re all strangers masquerading as friends, as family. Paul sighs deeply. How did they miss this?

They hold Mike for what feels like forever, until the tears finally taper off into nothing more than sniffles. Mike peels himself slowly from their embrace and rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands, feeling only a little trace of the buzz he had earlier that afternoon. He’s exhausted, and his hands shake as he moves to stand up.

“I’ll clean this up” he murmurs, grimacing at the soreness of his throat and the leftover taste of bile in his mouth.

“No, Mikey, we’ll get this,” Charlie promises, pushing him to sit back down. “But we need to talk about what happened today first.” Mike’s shoulders sagged, but he eventually relaxed back onto the barstool.

“You need to tell us what’s going on with you, Mike,” Paul starts. “We take care of each other here, but when we don’t know what you need it makes it really hard to be there for you. And I’m sorry that we didn’t check up on you earlier, because we should have known something was up as soon as you came downstairs today, and that’s on us. But you’ve gotta help us out, kid. This, all of this, only works if we’re honest with each other.”

Mike nods slowly, not meeting either of their gazes. He’s not sure he’s ready to talk about it, but Paul’s right. So after a steadying breath, Mike starts.

“I lost my sister a year ago today, to suicide.” Mike grimaces as he feels the hands resting on his back tense, but he presses forward. “She had been going through a really hard time, and none of us did anything. I didn’t do anything. I thought it was just typical teenage angst, or some bullshit like that. But it wasn’t. And I will pay for that mistake every single day for the rest of my life.”

Charlie sucks in a long breath and lets it out slowly, pulling Mike into as tight a hug as she’s ever given, hoping to be able to offer any kind of comfort to the distraught agent. “Mike, this wasn’t your fault. And I know that you don’t believe that and that you might not ever believe it, but this was a choice that she made in a time when she could have reached out to someone and asked for help. You can’t take that weight on your shoulders, because you didn’t make that decision for her, okay?” She tilts his chin up to look directly in his eyes. “Look at me Mike, this is important. None of this was your fault, okay?”

After a short breath of hesitation, Mike lets out a soft, but firm “okay.”

“And you need to come to us when you need help, kid,” Paul takes over, “so we can deal with whatever it is together. That’s why we’re all here, because there are some things we can’t handle alone, and that extends beyond our cases. We’re here for you, for each other, so please, just talk to us when you need something. We’ll always be here.”

This time when Mike nods, he’s wiping tears from his eyes and he’s more than willing to melt into the waiting arms of his housemates. They stand there like that for an immeasurable amount of time, and Mike honestly couldn’t tell if it’s been minutes or if it’s been hours, but Paul and Charlie never waver in their embrace. It felt good to have someone to lean on.

“Alright, why don’t you head up to bed, kid?” Paul suggests once they finally pull back. Mike nods slowly, fighting a yawn, and stands from the barstool. As he stretches out his tense muscles, Charlie presents him with a water bottle and a bottle of advil.

“Drink a little water tonight, the advil is for tomorrow morning.” Mike lets out a little laugh at that, grimacing at the thought of how sick he’s going to feel.

“Thanks, Char. And,” He pauses as he turns from the kitchen, “thanks for everything you guys.” He wears a small smile as he pads up the steps, reassured that he’s not near as alone as he thought, and that there are people here who will take care of him.

[samuelcreek-blog]

Chapter 1: Blank Stares

Case file of Marcus Grimshaw                                                   Date: July 2nd 2017

Recorder: Ellie [REDACTED]

Bold Writing is recorded data of the events in meeting room 3 on July 2nd. Regular font is the testimony of Mr. Grimshaw about the events; AJEF129. Also known as, The Hunt Of The Seven.

“Have you ever felt like everything was already set up for you? Like you had a belief that you thought was your own but turned out to be someone else’s? There is nothing you can do to defy it and it always comes to the same outcome no matter what you do. And it–” Head chairman Gerro is looking at Marcus with intense eyes and furrows the bushes of hair on his face and clears his throat.

“I’m sorry, but can we stick to the events that transpired between–,” he lifts his folder up and traces his finger across a paper, “between May 13th 2016 and…” His eyes become slightly wider. “June 20th 2017. Over a year…” Marcus seems taken aback by his tone, it’s an accusing one.

“Yeah, it was more or less a year. Before we get into this I have to say; This is important, everything I tell you is important. You don’t want to just know what happened but you want to know my thought process behind it, right? And I’ve always been a descriptive story teller” And he winks. There is five stiff councilmen sat around the hardwood table, it looks like a friendly meeting with just one chair far away from the rest of them where Marcus sits. And little old me in the corner. Too bad it’s more of an interrogation rather than a meeting. Suddenly Marcus seems flustered. Seeming to notice the severity of his situation. He swallows, “May thirteenth. I’ll start from there.”

I hate to say it, but I think that I wished all of this upon myself. I was unhappy, for whatever reason it was like nothing seemed to fulfill what I wanted to do with my life. Which is pretty strange for a kid in high school. Or, maybe that’s totally normal for a kid in high school looking back.  I always felt… bad. Not depressed, not sad, not mad, just not happy. I felt bad about my life, about who I was. Then I would think about other people’s lives, those in other places who don’t have water or food or parents or friends.  Then I would feel guilty. My life isn’t as bad as theirs, but it’s not like that would make me happy. Nothing’s worse than feeling bad, for feeling bad…

Anyway, It was a Tuesday I believe, I got up, did my morning routine of showering, brushing my teeth, having to squat my six foot two body to be able to look at my messy black hair and my pale white skin in the mirror, styling my hair to give a spike right above my forehead, staring back at my grey eyes that seemed void of any alertness, weighing myself and being disappointed about how not muscular I was, I wasn’t skinny as a stick but I always wished I was more athletic, I was hopelessly average. I threw on some black joggers and a gray hoodie over a darker gray shirt (so you know, I was a ray of sunshine), petting my dog Sadie on my way out the door to go to Shipdale HIgh school in-you guessed it- Shipdale, PA. It was a small town in a land locked state that was obsessed with boats. Boat shows, boat meets, conventions, you name anything boat related it was in my hometown. I know, it’s stupid, having all this where the nearest ocean is six hours away but I wouldn’t have said that out loud in Shipdale. They just were stuck in a place they didn’t want to be and were doing what they could to make themselves whole. I could understand that. I pondered my towm while listening to music all the way to school. It was 4-5 songs away, depending on the songs. Music was something that always calmed me down, I wished I could sing or play an instrument but I never had the skill for either.

I remember everything about that day from the last time I stepped off my bus to when I was whisked away from Shipdale.

I remember looking at the statue in the front lawn of the school. The green metal glinted in the morning sun. It was of a huge, jacked dude without a shirt on but fishing overalls with boots. He was also decked out with a sea captain’s hat and a fishing spear.

“Ahh a fisherman without a fish for miles… How Sad.” A loud voice said behind me.

“Well I wish that he would just spear me so I don’t have to go to junior health.” I smiled and yelled back. I turned around to find that It was my best friend Adam Bucks. Shorter kid than me but much more athletic and genuinely handsome. If I’m being honest I have always been a little jealous of him for that. He had broad shoulders and while he was shorter than me he had longer legs than his torso. He was wearing an earthy green t-shirt with “Save the trees” in big gold letters across the chest. He just had this charismatic nature about him and you could see it on his face chiseled and rough but with a gentleness behind his green eyes that looked like they were buried in miles of forest , he didn’t even have to talk to girls and they would be falling all over him when he flipped his chestnut brown hair. He never really went for them though, I always made fun of him for it and it didn’t really make much sense why he didn’t until later.

“Me too, although, I would kill to be on the beach right now. You do the Bio homework?” He asks me.

“Pshh, you mean the extra credit?”

“Yeah.”

“Man, that’s not homework, it’s optional.”

“Yeah but you should do it anyway dude.” I scoffed and made a lazy brush with my hand to signify an “ehh forget about it.” He was always like that, a second dad of sorts, always watching out for me. Another thing I always made fun of him for. We crossed the threshold of the school and I wish I took a better look around, considering that would be the last time I saw that building.

We went to class. Just sat there at our desks having adults talk at us. It was the end of the year so, I wasn’t actually paying that much attention. I guess it doesn’t matter that much about what I learned anyway, I mean, look where I am–

“Yes, and you’re sure this is all important to what we are trying to achieve here?” Gerro’s eyes start narrowing slightly as he speaks. I am feeling resentment grow in my chest. Nobody wants to be here but he is the one making it difficult to get anything done.

Yes, I’m keeping this in file to show how Gerro shouldn’t have gotten that promotion. I’ll do my best to keep this professional but my opinions will bleed through. It’s not like anyone else reads these but me anyway. Sorry, moving on.

“Look, do you want to hear the story or not? I told you, everything I’m telling you is important to the end game, okay?” It comes out a little harsher than I think Marcus meant to because his expression changes slightly when he finishes his sentence. But it gets his point across. As I’m waiting for a response Gerro is rolling his eyes and my disdain for him grows. And I think it does for Marcus as well.

“Very well. Continue, Mr. Grim.” Gerro rolls his hand in a “get a move on” fashion.

“It’s Grimshaw.” Marcus spits back.

“I have Grim here.” He says looking in his stupid files.

“Yeah? Well, it’s Grimshaw.” Marcus matches Gerro’s scowl.

“Continue, Mr. Grim.” Gerro’s finger hovers over a threatening button. Marcus stares daggers into my boss and then continues.

 “It was lunch so it must of been almost noon when I started to realize something was… Off about the school.”

It wasn’t until I bumped into Dan Nelson and spilled nachos all over him on my way to my table that I could finally see it. On a normal day Dan would have made a huge scene and demand me to pay for his overpriced shoes. But he didn’t. We locked eyes for only a second, but I could see it. Below the surface was true terror and insecurity. Now for a rich pretty-boy you might expect that, but not from Dan. He was cocksure and bold or at least he fronted to be.

He apologized for something I did. Which should have been enough evidence for me to get out of there because Shipdale must of frozen over. But I shrugged it off like most people do. As I sat at my table I started to think about my classes earlier that day. First period I was asleep for the most part but noticed the teacher was a lot more timid than normal and flinched when I went to give her a high five for helping me get a B on her final, and then in third period the whole class collectively gasped when Mr. Harold turned off the lights for the projector, and now the thing with Dan. It was all so subtle and like before, I just kept shrugging it off as just some random event. It would all go back to normal after a couple of seconds. Like they were fighting against their emotions. But now I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“Hey, do you guys notice anything weird happening today?” I said struggling to open my iced tea bottle. “Damn, I never knew I was this weak.” In my own little side bar.

“No, like what?” One of the kids at my table asked.

“I don’t know, like the school is haunted and everyone saw a ghost at the exact same time or something.”

“Nope, can’t say that I have.” A voice from the table answered. I popped open my bottle of now room temperature iced tea.

“Finally!” I yelled triumphantly as the cap rolled to the center of the table. I stood up a little bit to grab the cap when I heard it. Well, I guess I should say when I didn’t hear it…

Silence deafened me, you could have heard a pin drop a mile away. The air felt heavy without voices to carry it. I’m sure if you have ever been in a crowded high school lunchroom you would know what I mean when I say that it was freaking creepy to not hear a peep from anyone. I slowly stood back up and had a thousand eyes staring back at me. I just stood there, awestruck. Looking around not believing what I was seeing and what I wasn’t hearing. Everyone was looking at me. I couldn’t read their faces but I could tell that something was seriously wrong. I started to awkwardly laugh and try to defuse the gigantic tension that threatened to crush me.

“What? Was it something I said?” Hoping some cliche line would at least get a chuckle out of someone.

There was one collective gasp and whisper for a few seconds after I spoke. And then it was back to the void of silence. Before I started to wet myself a crash of doors banged against my eardrums from across the cafeteria. It was Adam. I hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t next to me like always in all this craziness. He ran to me, seemingly unfazed by our looming classmates. However they were not unfazed by him, they all backed away and flinched. Still no actual words formed in this cold, dark room. His running footsteps echoed and resonated within me. He was swooping in to save me from the thought that the entire world had just stopped. He was red cheeked and sweating when he got to me.

“We… Need… To… Go… Now.” He said in between large breaths of air and gulps of my newly opened iced tea. I was going to argue and ask if he know what in God’s name was going on, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me through the old wooden doors and out of the graveyard that used to be the gross cafeteria, and I gotta tell you, that’s the last time for a while that I felt like a normal kid.

We were running through the hallways of our school and I was trying to get Adam to stop and explain but he is so freaked and worried about getting out of the building.

“What is going on? Why the hell did everyone turn into zombies in there?!?” I ask in between heavy breaths. He is unresponsive. And then an awful thought hit me. “You’re a zombie too aren’t you?” I stopped dead in my tracks. He stopped and turned around.

“What? No! Come on.” He grabbed my arm again and I yanked it free.

“No I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you aren’t as freaked out as I am right now.”

“I’m just better under pressure. We. Have. To. Go.” I backed up a little farther when he went to grab me again.

“That’s bull.” I was losing the trust I had for Adam. I knew he must be lying. He’s not this good under pressure. Most people aren’t. He must know something I don’t.

“Listen man, you are just scared. I am too. I don’t have all the answers. I just know something is wrong here and we have to go. Now come on we are almost–” I remember a large piece of glass flew in between us big enough for me to see my whole face reflected back at me. A hideous crash of concrete filled my ears and left me with a faint ringing…

Authors Note: There it is! The first chapter of the novel! I know it doesn’t give a lot in the terms of explaining pretty much anything but it’s all about the suspense. Anyway, I have 7 other chapters (Some way longer than others) ready for uploading but I wanna see how this goes before I put too much content out there so share, reply, ask questions, help me make my dream of publishing my writing a reality!

[jetandthebennies]

Into You (8/?)

Summary- Where Tom is kind enough to share his new ideas for you little game.

AN- Just gonna try and do one more chapter, who knows it may turn out good and then if it’s alright I might carry this series on, simply because it’s my favourite one I’ve written so far.

ALSO please don’t be scared to talk to me! I love getting random messages and stuff! And please inbox me if you wanna be in the tags for this series OR my permanent tag or I’ll forget to add you.

PART SEVEN  REQUESTS  PROMPTS

You hadn’t heard anything from Tom. Not a text, phone call or some indirect comment to the press. Nothing, and to be honest that’s what made you want his attention yet again. You didn’t like being throw away, whilst he was clearly enjoying his time with his new ‘chick’.

Yet at the same time you didn’t care he was with someone else, because he always came running back to you. Plus, it was brilliant watching him practically burning with jealousy whilst watching you leave with someone else. Of course, you’d much rather be leaving with him too, but for now Darren would do...

Speaking of Darren, you haven’t had a moment peace from him, he was constantly by your side and never seemed to get your message that you wanted to be alone for a bit. He had been glued to your side since the last time you’d seen Tom, and as nice as he was, everytime you saw him you couldn’t help but think how much you’d rather it was Tom instead.

That’s why you loved days like these. Days when you’d be locked away in your trailer until you were needed on set. Playing music a little too loudly, dancing around in some shorts and a vest top, making food and singing into the wooden spoon you’d been stirring the mac and cheese with.

You were finally alone, and it was bliss. You didn’t have to worry about looking over your back to see if the paps were following, which they usually were. You didn’t have to think about impressing people, the only person you had to see today was Sean so he could practice your hair for a scene tomorrow. The only thing you had to do was run lines, and that was completely fine.

“Okay ladies, now let’s get in-”

“Good moves.”

“Holy shit!”

To say the voice startled you would be an understatement, it scared the shit out of you. You didn’t know how long they had been there, how they got in (as you never heard footsteps) or who the hell it was. 

Placing a hand over you chest, you could practically feel your heart threatening to jump out, and you turned to face the intruder. You weren’t really surprised when you came face to face with Tom, his lips in a slight smirk and his eyes glistening. 

You could feel his eyes wandering your choice of outfit, the bralette showing your stomach. But with him temporarily distracted at some of our exposed skin, you took the opportunity to admire him, after all it had been so long since you’d seen him natural. Without the fancy suits, his hair all done and cameras constantly surrounding him. Sure, there were multiple pictures from his time in New York, but nothing could beat the real thing standing in front of you.

His hair was in small curls, obviously not gelled back like it usually was, and you couldn’t help but remember the days when you two used to sit in front of the television, watching FRIENDS and how you used to run your hands through them. 

He was wearing some sort of grey joggers, which you hated to say, but he looked pretty damn good in them, and the navy t-shirt he was wearing was far too tight. Not that you were really complaining though, it showed out the defined muscles you knew he had underneath.

“My eyes are up here.”

You looked up to see him smiling slightly, and if you had focused harder, you probably would’ve noticed the slight blush on his cheeks. But you instead turned your back to him, stirring your lunch which was still on the hob.

“But so is the rest of your face so I’d rather not look.”

You picked up the spoon which you’d placed on the counter just before Tom  had decided to give you a heart attack. As you decided the cheesy goodness was finally done, after waiting for what felt like forever, you poured it into a  bowl and reached for a fork. When you turned to go and sit on the couch, you saw Tom had taken your previous spot.

If it was anyone else, you wouldn’t of cared that much. But it was Tom and you knew that he sat there on purpose, because he could tell that’s where you were sitting as the cushions were all rumpled. Plus you always sat on the far right of the sofa, even without knowing, it’s just where you felt comfiest. So he figured that if he sat there, you’d have to sit next to him. You didn’t though, you plopped down in the middle, crossing your legs and focusing on the TV, trying to ignore Tom’s stare on your face.

It was a good twenty minutes before Tom finally decided to something, and you almost thanked him. As good of an actress you were, it was hard to look like you were interested in car adverts when you couldn’t even technically drive in this country.

He reached forward, towards the coffee table, and grabbed the TV remote, turning it off. Then sat back watching you as you tried to look angry.

“Hey, asshole, I was watching-”

“No you weren’t.”

You sighed, placing your now empty bowl where the remote was just a few moments ago, and rubbing your eyes finally turning to him.

“No I wasn’t,”

He wore a proud smile on his face, getting you to admit your lie, which used to take him hours to get out of you, but whatever that was then this is now.

“Why are you here anyway?”

Tom clapped his hands together loudly, making a sound that bounced throughout your trailer and scaring you a little. 

“I want rules.”

“Excuse me?”

He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends slightly. You could tell by the way he was fiddling with the loose thread on cushion that was in his lap that he was pretty nervous. Which was unusual of him because he always came off as a quite confident person.

“Rules, for the game I suggested.”

A small blush didn’t go unnoticed by Tom when he brought up that night at the BAFTAS, and your eyes instantly going to your lap, trying to forget how good h looked that night.

“What ‘game’ is this?”

“A jealousy game let’s say.”

Clearing your throat, you got the courage to look up at him, and was surprised to see there was no ghost of a smirk or any hint he was taking the piss. He being deadly serious, and the look gave you a small butterflies.

“Okay, what rules.”

“First one to admit they’re jealous, or miss the other, lose. We have three months and if nothing happens we say goodbye to everything we used to be-”

That made your heart skip a beat. Say goodbye to everything we used to be, that meant forgetting everything. All the memories you treasure, all that time you spent with him. The late nights and early mornings, being cooped up together away from the rest of the world. All gone.

“And we tell no one-”

Just when you opened your mouth, Tom seemed to know exactly what you were going to say, and jumped in before you could.

“Including Sean, I know what you two are like, and what he’s like. The whole of LA would know in a matter of minutes.”

A small giggle escaped your lips, and a chuckle left his. And suddenly you wanted what you had so recklessly let go. 

Him.

You wanted him to be yours again, but he wasn’t, and that was your own fault you knew it. But this could be your chance to get him back.

“What does the winner get?”

“Anything.”

You didn’t need much more convincing, so you once again acted recklessly without thinking, only this time it could work in your favour.

“I think we have a deal.”

“Get ready to lose, Y/L/N.”

“Oh please, we both know you’re the biggest loser here.”

I just realised how alike this series is to a book I did on Wattpad about Sebastian Stan, oh well...

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