Irish_Prince



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    “There anything I can do for you, man?” he asked, and Billy could see slow recognition fill Steve's eyes, the second he put Billy’s face together with the man who stood in front of him, taller and possibly broader than he was as a teenager, with hair cut short and shoulders squared. But Billy’s grin was the same. His leather jacket was the same. When Billy ran his tongue over his teeth, stared Steve down, he felt some of that fire he had felt then, wasn’t sure if he liked it.

    “No,” Steve said.

    “What?” Billy asked. “I haven’t even said anything yet.”

    “Exactly,” Steve said, snapping the laptop shut. If Billy looked closely, he could make out a scar creeping out of Harrington’s hairline, the exact kind of scar a kitchen plate would leave.

    “Isn’t this a tattoo shop?” Billy waved his hand around. “Don’t you take walk-ins?”

    Language:
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    03 Aug 2019

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    The set of Yuuri’s mouth softened into a private smile as Victor squeezed his knee beneath the table. His hands were bare, free from the gloves he so often wore when they were together on the rink, and the heat of his palm burned straight through the denim of Yuuri’s jeans. He slipped his own hand beneath the table and found Victor’s. Hidden from sight, their fingers began to flirt and play. A secret conversation all their own that needed no words.

    Yuuri was aware that at some point—a moment in time he couldn’t quite place—Victor had become his boyfriend.

    There wasn’t a single instant when it happened. It was a slow awareness, as if Victor had silently been asking the question for months now, and Yuuri had been giving him the answer a little more with each passing day.

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    27 Jul 2019

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    Hopper sighed and scratched his beard. “Look, kid, the reason why I'm offering you a second chance is because you need it. You don't deserve it, but you need it. So I got your back.”

    Or how, on his harrowing road to redemption (because second chances don't come easy), Billy Hargrove loses a good-for-nothing father, but gains a tough little sister, a giant older brother, a preppy boyfriend, and an obnoxious pack of nerds, not necessarily in this particular order.

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    05 Jul 2019

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    Upon returning for Eighth Year, there are so many strange things going on with Malfoy, Harry doesn’t know where to start. He won’t talk to Harry, but he’s talking to ghosts. He won’t apologize for his past, but the Black Family tapestry has crossed him off its tree. And the worst of it all, he still has that infuriating, snotty mouth on him that gets Harry’s dick hard as a rock drives Harry insane.

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    17 Mar 2019

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    "Scorpius’s attention almost instantly turned to the boy leaning against the hood of James’s car, typing something on his phone. It was obvious who he was, though Blaze and Tim’s descriptions didn’t do him justice.

    He had the same facial structure as James, but he was leaner and sharper. James was the type of boy who caught you when you fell, whereas his brother looked as if he was the one who had pushed you in the first place. Albus had black hair even messier than his brother’s and his freckles dusted his skin—whereas James’s were bold, his looked like an afterthought; they were barely visible. Even from several feet away, Scorpius could see Albus’s vivid green eyes as they rose to meet his, as if sensing the weight of his stare. A smirk curled his lips and he shot Scorpius a wink.
    Just as his teammates had said: a wildcard."

    Despite playing for rival soccer teams, Scorpius and Albus can't help but be drawn to one another. This is a fic heavily based off of my one-shot, Strike.

    Language:
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    11 Mar 2019