Blake Gray Imagines Novels & Stories

“Then create one.” Something dark flickered in Gray’s eyes. He knew what that meant. “I need something that doesn’t just silence him, I need something that ends him and his stupid project quietly and permanently.” “Understood,” he replied, already rising. “I’ll speak to my team.” He was halfway to the door when I called out, “Mr. Gray.” He stopped. I walked to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of cabernet, and poured myself a glass, the sound soft against the tension in the room.

Kristen said, grabbing her hair. "Wait a sec, don't tell me it's Daniel, because he's the only one who could do that and go free" Nancy said. "Who else if not that bastard?" Kristen semi yelled angrily. "Ugh, that guy is crossing his boundaries" Abigail said tapping her feet on the ground. Paula could only look at the people she called friends. Such mentally sick people.

And without restraints, he laughed out loud. "That sounds ridiculous even to your doesn't it? And even if I was going to fuck someone, it would be a woman, one I'm sure is sure if her gender, not some guy with some tight asshole looking as desperate as a list puppy would for love." Gray said as he stood up. Despite the fact that he was shirtless and only had a pair of Stylocity joggers as his bottoms, he still had an impossibly aura. Kelvin felt close to tears for many reasons at the same time.

Sometimes, I get caught up in the fact that she is my mistake that I forget how young and fragile she is, inside and out. “Camille, how did it go?” I asked with hands in my pocket. If am going to teach Occult with my mate here, then I need to make sure my secret remains a secret. “You are Damian so we’ve got your back” she replied with a smile. “I’m not one of you” I replied. Fixing my eyes on my mate. She was wearing a long sleeve black cropped top and a denimjeans. Her bright brown hair, running down her shoulders in beautiful wave curls. Her brown eyes shinned under the sun, a pure reflection of the light that’s emanating from her.

I stammer, my voice barely a whisper. Blake lets out a dark laugh, scrolling through the images like he’s browsing a social media feed. “Looks like I just found two people worth stalking.” The pictures show the man we’ve been targeting in a compromising position with another man. Shit. I watch in stunned silence as photo after photo fills the screen, each more intimate than the last. They’re not just having sex; it’s raw, passionate, graphic. The kind of thing that should never leave the bedroom—or in this case, the office. Well, not by people who they want to hide it from.

My ticket to something better. I could do this. No choice but to try. As I started unpacking, the sound of tires on gravel made me look up towards the window. A black shiny Alfa Romeo rolled to a stop out front. When the door opened, a tall figure stepped out. Even from this far away, there was no mistaking him. Blake Hawthorne was here. And suddenly, the air felt different. Like everything was about to change…. Like comment and share. xx

The sketchbook closed, the pencil unused, the observation that was also love, also grief, also the possibility of something else. The exile continued. The new school, the debate team, the arguments won and lost. The love with Grayson, uncertain, persistent, the door open, the choice repeated. The family with Dante, closed, not blocked, the trying that might fail, again, but was still trying. Avery Blake, becoming. Not his project. Not his patience. Just hers. Messed up and not finished and finally, possibly, real.

Gray, standing still for a while, also began to speak. “What happens when you annoy a madman like Ryan? He won't hesitate to break your neck; if that's the case, I won't interfere, so keep your emotions in check." Blake gritted his teeth, his chest heaving violently as if he was holding back his anger. “This time, consider yourself lucky!” Judging from their relationship, I guess Gray doesn't respect Blake either, and there's a lot of tension between them.

Courtesy of the money I was paid Donald creased his brows “You know I can still cut your fingers if I find you irritating enough” He looked left, to the man that had bloodlust in his eyes, where on earth did the Pavilochenki's find that psychopath anyway Were they really going to cut off his fingers For talking? ******************** Palmer picked up a blade “No no I'll behave, I was just being silly” “Good, because it looked like you were mocking us just now” “To continue, after the failed attempt to tarnish his reputation, Blake Gray was put in a penitentiary, far away. Where reporters couldn't find him, where he would be convinced that everything he believed in was a lie, or an illusion tr

And now, they are dead. All because of the Omega Games. The fucking Omega Games. “Stay out of the rain, Hope. Come to the fire.” A voice orders me from inside a cave. It is Blake’s. I smack my lips and swallow the tears in my mouth. Trudging back into the cave, I see Blake hunched over the fire, warming his hands before the dancing flames. He is naked waist up with only a pair of torn khaki pants he pulled off from a dead man. “They can see us, you know,” he says quietly, rubbing his palms together even as his eyes remain fixated on the orange flames.