12 Works by HopeINeverKnow
Listing Works
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Summary
It was a delusional crush.
It was fine.
It wasn’t fine.
It was not even adjacent to fine. -
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“You could offer me a cup of tea…” he murmured, his voice dropping low enough that it seemed to vibrate through her skin. “And I would accept it... And we would ignore the tea.”
(So edited it a bit and changed the title. i was not vibing with the other one. I did some editing, for who already read the first chapter its better to read again, sorry.)
Series
- Part 2 of The Booze Nook Bar
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Dr. Robby returned from sabbatical with a new set of boundaries.
Armed with a band tee and and a reckless amount of adrenaline, Dennis is about to tear them all down.Series
- Part 1 of The Booze Nook Bar
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Late at night, drunk and alone, Dennis thought texting a friend for advice would help. He was wrong. The bar, the booze, the buzzing phone… all of it spun into chaos he couldn’t control. Dennis realizes some mistakes don’t just break the rules: they rewrite them.
And Dr Michael Robinavitch?
He’s the most dangerous consequence of all. -
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Javier almost had a heart attack. Steve. He moved his body to look at him, and he froze. The man in front of him didn’t look like Steve, at all. Steve didn’t have those large shoulders, or that messy fuckboy haircut. Nope.
“You look like you seen a ghost...”
Javier gulped. Shit
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Noah Murphy was new to the team, she had been in it for almost a month now; since the ‘killing cow’ thing. She came from Gotham where she had been working at the Arkham Asylum, after failing the mission, having a small injury and a slow recover; she was assigned to Harcourt’s team. Vigilante was not in her plans.
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He cleaned the camera lens and when he looked up he saw a moment worthy of a photograph.
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Steve was tired, the crazy hours, all the problems and… Javier Fucking Peña. He was being difficult lately, they had another corridor argument. Steve lost his cool again and grabbed him by his collar against the wall. Steve had a déjà vu feeling, but they kept arguing.
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“Like what you see?” Danny whispered, his hand traveling down his chest, belly, reaching to the waistband of his jeans.
George’s mouth was watering.
Oh fuck Danny…
Fuck... He wants him, but he can’t have him. Can he? -
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Ele estava nas tuas mãos. O sangue era imenso. Ele não respirava. E parecia que o fator de cura não estava a funcionar.
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"Baker street 221b, Dez e meia.- SH" - A sms chegou passados três anos.
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A realidade é bastante subjectiva, era fácil desacreditar o pequeno objecto a que chamam totem.. mesmo muito facil...