flashbanggrenade
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Summary
At 31, Ben has never been in a relationship. Actually, he's never even kissed anyone. When the subject of past relationships come up, he lies by omission. As an Alpha, he believes he has failed his designation. He is afraid of not being good enough, and could never act upon his attraction to omegas. That is, until he meets Rey.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 49,800
- Chapters:
- 13/?
- Comments:
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- 2,651
- Bookmarks:
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Bookmarked by flashbanggrenade
22 Jan 2020
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A collection of ficlets, dribbles, and drabs collected from either prompts or random one-shot ideas that won't go away no matter what I try. Lots of characters because I really love all the classes and all the companions and someone help me please. There will be no particular order or organization because that's how it goes.
More tags will be added as something with the relevant character / pairing is added on.
Series
- Part 1 of Codex - The Casia Legacy
Bookmarked by flashbanggrenade
08 Jul 2017
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Quinn didn't believe anything could be more difficult than five years in prison. But freedom turned out to be all that much more harder than he ever imagined.
Series
- Part 2 of Maevry Zorick - swtor
Bookmarked by flashbanggrenade
11 Jun 2017
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There wasn’t a better feeling on earth than her all around him when he was high. It was better not being sober because then John could focus on her— how soft her skin was (relatively speaking, of course), all the warmth that seeped into his bones, the cigarette smoke and oil smell of her. “You shouldn’t be sorry,” she said, running her hand down his side. “You don’t have to be.”
“Third night in a row I woke you up like that,” he argued, trying to keep his voice down.
“You know I don’t mind,” she scolded, kissing up his neck.
Series
- Part 13 of Whiskey Molotov
Bookmarked by flashbanggrenade
12 Apr 2016
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“Hey, Hancock.”
He turned to face the intruder, the owner of a voice he thought he’d never hear again.
She looked good; crisper, more put together than he’d ever seen her. Her grimy vault suit had been replaced by a black bodysuit and a trim, gray jacket. Her hair was the same shoulder-grazing length, but perfectly coiffed and missing its signature adornment of dried blood. She even seemed to be wearing a hint of makeup, a luxury not normally permitted aboveground.
“The Institute looks good on you.”
Bookmarked by flashbanggrenade
21 Mar 2016