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Bookmarked by shoster
06 Jun 2026
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Summary
Captain Buckley, who is steady, who has his shit together, who definitely does not recognize his new probie because he spent a night eight years ago with his hands in that man's hair whispering things against his skin that would get him fired on the spot if anyone in this building ever found out.
"You must be Eddie Diaz." His hand goes out. Not shaking, by some miracle that deserves its own cathedral, its own patron saint, the patron saint of men who are dying inside and shaking hands about it. "Welcome to the 118. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Captain Buckley."
Eddie takes his hand. A firm grip, calloused in places Buck doesn't remember, but Buck's skin recognizes him anyway, every nerve, all at once.
"Captain." Eddie's voice is level, pleasant, perfectly neutral, and Buck would buy it completely if he couldn't see the tension bolted into Eddie's shoulders. "Thanks for having me." A beat. "You got a first name, Captain Buckley?"
"Evan. But most people just call me Buck."
"Buck," Eddie repeats, tasting it, dragging it out, and Buck's stomach drops through the floor. "Suits you."
Or,
Captain Buckley WILL NOT fuck his new probie, okay? At least, not again.Bookmarked by shoster
01 Jun 2026
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Determined to win a stupid bet by proving that Ivan doesn’t like him like that, Till embarks on a mission to repel Ivan in every way possible.
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Bookmarked by shoster
22 May 2026
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Hannibal doesn't respond, simply stares at him for a moment and tilts his head, angling for eye-contact.
"I see why you were a model." Will freezes, heat beating at his ears when he hears it. The comment sounds as if it's spoken in jest but he can't tell. He was never the best when it came to tone.
"Because models smoke?"
He doesn't answer, instead slowly pressing the cigarette in between his own plush lips, staring into the depths of Will's eyes all the while. Will doesn't know if he wants to fuck the guy or simply stare at his lips and see what happens. The idea of licking down his neck, putting a cigarette out on his tongue- Jesus, he has fucking problems. Hannibal, meanwhile, remains the perfect gentleman, stepping away and not blowing smoke in Will's direction.
or
24-year-old Ex-model Will needs a job. 26-year-old Editor-in-Chief (and partial owner) of a fashion company, Hannibal, needs another assistantBookmarked by shoster
05 May 2026
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“Fuck Huckleberry, you have quite the mouth.” Robby said, his hand leaching into the younger's hair, taking subtle control of Dennis’s inexperienced motions. Dennis had never taken such a big cock, and startled by the sudden changes, Dennis moaned around the dick in his mouth, erupting a groan from the older man.
Dr. Robinavitch began to truly take over, fucking into the farm boy’s mouth, increasing his pace by the second.
“Whitaker-” He began to trip over his words “I’m gonna- fuck.” Then suddenly-
The loud blaring of Dennis’s phone woke him from his deep slumber.
“Oh fuck me.” He said to himself, clicking the *STOP* button and throwing his phone next to him on the mattress.
OR
When Dennis Whitaker fumbles his phone on shift and accidentally sends a risky text to his boss on shift, it finally becomes the wakeup call he needs to breakup with his deadbeat boyfriend. But after leaving the older man shut out and alone, Micheal Robinavitch begins to wonder what could have been if he responded differently. Dennis can't help but wonder either.Bookmarked by shoster
04 May 2026