obsceme
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Buck never pulls the trigger. Daniel makes it out alive. Questionable events follow.
And Buck really, truly hates BB Urich.
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you ain't got no mrs. (oh, but you got a sports car) by obsceme
Fandoms: Fast & Furious (Movies), Hobbs & Shaw (2019)
15 Jul 2025
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Kissing Deckard feels like a revelation. Hobbs has been with plenty of men, his body and his charisma allowing for nothing less, but Deckard feels like nothing he’s ever experienced before. He’s molten lava in his arms, his smaller frame dwarfed by Hobbs’ arms alone, and the way he undulates his hips while sucking on Hobbs' tongue is the closest thing he thinks either of them will get to heaven.
What with all the bodies they’ve dropped, you know?
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Somewhere in the world, a record scratches.
The bag hanging from Charles’ shoulder falls to the ground in a messy heap. Edwin brushes his hand over his nose, the spot still tingling where Charles had touched him.
He’d felt it.
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“You’ve been hurting this whole time, and you didn’t think to say anything? Bloody hell, Edwin, I’ve been offering to help at every turn - why wouldn’t you tell us? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
Edwin stares at the floor, clutching the fabric of his pants like a lifeline, his fingers flexing minutely. “I thought it would fade. I believed I could handle it on my own, and I still-”
“On your own? That’s bollocks. I’m sorry, but it is. I can’t believe you would even attempt to suffer through this by yourself.”
“It is my pain to bear,” Edwin snaps, and Charles flinches. “I still intend to handle this on my own. It was never my intention to burden you any further, and I request that you do not try to interfere.”
(Wherein Edwin can still feel pain after his encounter with Esther, Charles is just trying to help, and the only way out is through.)
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“Are you sure you’re alright?” Edwin asks again, the question tinged with more concern than before.
“Always,” Charles says, without even having to think, before adding, just as thoughtlessly, “I love you.”
It’s not at all what he wanted to say. Edwin doesn’t seem to notice Charles’ face visibly crumpling at his own words - he just smiles up at Charles like the sun.
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"Did you ever think —" JT stops. Starts again. "Out there. Did you ever think maybe it wasn't just —"
He doesn't finish.
He doesn't have to.
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Bookmarked by obsceme
02 Jun 2026
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buck and daniel in the car, after the body.
Bookmarked by obsceme
02 May 2026
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Daniel takes the blame for BB and Buck is ordered to kill him. Of course, he can't.
He takes a moment to question whether he’s already dead, and then slowly, very slowly, he makes sense of what’s going on. Of what this means, especially for Buck.
“You gotta leave, too. Come with me.”
Bookmarked by obsceme
30 Apr 2026
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Victoria was so good at pretending she didn’t want to touch McKay. So good at pretending that she didn’t want her attention and her smiles and her praise. So good at not even thinking of McKay by her first name, because when she did that, her stomach clenched and her cheeks burned.
But she wasn’t good at any of that when McKay was being tender with her.
Or maybe she just wasn’t good at all.
Because she wanted to lean over and kiss McKay. She wanted to reclaim her birthday for herself by being selfish and stupid. By not ignoring the desire that had been burning in her for months.
Bookmarked by obsceme
01 Feb 2026
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“This is so fucked,” Robby says, the laughter in his voice a cruel echo of the way he used to say that to Frank, the we’re-in-this-together exasperation of the ER’s worst days, and he drags his hand down his face to stop himself from flinching when he recognizes it. “Does your wife—”
“Don’t,” Frank says, voice sharper than Robby’s heard it all night. Sharper than he’s heard it in ten months, the sharpest it’s been since Frank had to dull the blade of it and turn it inwards to save his own hide. It’s a bark more than a spoken word, but Frank’s not a dog.
Dogs don’t talk, Robby thinks. Dogs don’t talk, and dogs don’t have wives.
It’s more fucked, Robby knows, that it’s the word wife rotating around in his skull and not her name. He knows her. He likes her, for god’s sake. He’s had holiday dinners at her table and shared fond eye-rolls across the appropriately-themed tablecloth at ridiculous things Frank’s said, that same we’re-in-this-together exasperation, and now — now Robby can’t even give her the dignity of thinking her name with his fingers in her husband’s mouth.
or: frank isn't very good at asking for forgiveness. robby isn't very good at granting it.
Bookmarked by obsceme
31 Jan 2026