fobnatural
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Summary
The bruises mottle Buck’s skin, like paint splattered clumsily on a canvas. Except—the artist behind this, whoever they are, clearly went about it with intent and precision. A curator of hickeys; Buck’s pale thighs like the walls of a gallery. A thriving one, at that. It’s… a lot of marks.
Eddie wonders if it hurts. Well—he knows that part already, at least based on what Buck told him a few minutes ago. So instead, Eddie starts to wonder if it hurt. The procedure behind the photo; the act of being marked up so irrefutably.
Buck reacts to Eddie’s thumbs up message with a thumbs down.
Buck: I just accidentally sexted you dude
Don’t 👍👍👍👍 meOr: Eddie receives an unintended photo. Then he bites some thighs about it.
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I’ve pined for you my whole life (morning, noon, and night) by paleredheadinascifi
Fandoms: 9-1-1 (TV)
21 Mar 2025
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“Where did you do it?” Eddie asks in one quick breath.
“Hmm?” Buck hums.
“Sorry I - - I. Nevermind. Sorry. It’s none of my business,” Eddie croaks, and whatever that is in his voice is what finally clues Buck in.
“Oh. Oh,” he gasps. “Where did I - - where did we sleep together?”Or, Buck calls Eddie after 8x11.
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3 misconceptions about cats +1 universally recognized truth by CamilleDuDemon, Sleepy_Anger
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF
20 Jul 2024
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“You should have been on that podium,” Oscar replies, unfaltering, as deadpan as if he’s enunciating some kind of well-known truth.
Water boils at 100°C. If you touch fire, you get burnt. You should have been on that podium.
He’s not, as Carlos has reluctantly learnt, very versed in the art of beating around the bush. He’s direct without being rude, succinct without coming off as too harsh or too blunt, straight to the point like a perfectly aimed arrow.
Carlos likes it about him.
By God, he hates that he likes it about him.
“Don’t-” he starts arguing, but a knot ties tightly around his windpipe, strangling all the words out of him in a vicious snare. His stomach drops to his knees – fuck, I should have been on that goddamn podium.After a nightmare race, Carlos finds out that his relationship with Oscar might be deeper than he thought, and it takes him some good sex and a bottle of Chianti to take his own feelings into account...more or less.
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“I have met you, and aren’t you a half of a whole?”
No, Carlos never says. He is my whole, I live as nothing until he finds me.
It does not bother him. The only person who needs to know always does, even if the only contact they ever make is a wistful once-over. It suffices, even if the Carlos of the present does not realise, his memories always do.
[or: They are in love today, yesterday, every day and tomorrow night.]
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“Oh, really, you think that you, Carlos Sainz, somehow have a kink so fucked up that I wouldn’t be able to handle it, do tell me what it is”, he says, “is it spanking maybe, I’m sure you think that’s beyond taboo, you want to drape me over your lap, punish me for being a bad boy?”, Carlos shakes his head, a small glint in his eye, “Bondage then? Do you want to tie me up?”, another shake of the head, “Whips? Paddles? Feathers?”, Carlos continues shaking his head and so Charles leans in further, his voice dipping lower as he continues.
“Maybe you’re into age play then”, he pushes closer, so their faces are only inches apart, “do you want me to call you daddy?”, the air between them feels like it’s on fire as Carlos breathes out a hot laugh, giving another miniscule shake off the head.
“Then tell me”, Charles demands and waits as Carlos seems to consider him for a moment, before leaning forwards so his lips are next to his ear, his breath hot against his skin, sending shivers cascading down his body.
“Love”.
Series
- Part 1 of head over heels