EleanorCinnamon
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“Hollander, what is this?”
Shane had his arms over his eyes, the way he always did when he wanted to shut out all his sensation, leaving nothing but the feel of Rozanov’s mouth on every inch of his skin, intensifying the heat. He peeks out from beneath his arms, looking down at the man nuzzling below his waist.
“What?”
“This,” Rozanov looks up at him, “is this a fucking gun tattoo?”
Shane Hollander gets a gun tattoo.
Bookmarked by EleanorCinnamon
17 Jun 2026
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"I've got a tired puppy on my hands, huh?" Dennis says, and his voice is soft, softer than he intended, soft in a way that feels like it might break if he pushes too hard.
Robby huffs again, but it's not a sigh this time. It's almost a laugh. "Call me a puppy again and I'll make you run a full code on a dummy in front of the entire department."
"You'd have to get up first."
A pause. "Fuck you."
or robby slumps after a shift from hell, and he doesn't seem to want to say much. dennis, for his part, figures it out on his own
Bookmarked by EleanorCinnamon
17 Jun 2026
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May
what if we casually start referring to them like a married couple and see how long it takes them to noticeRavi
OH I’M INChimney
I want plausible deniabilityChimney left the conversation
Harry
💀💀💀May
LMFAOHarry
operation buddie bait is officially a goMay
that is the worst name ive ever heardRavi
secondedHarry
y’all just threatened by my creativity- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 26,345
- Chapters:
- 21/21
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 305
- Kudos:
- 1,213
- Bookmarks:
- 219
- Hits:
- 23,936
Bookmarked by EleanorCinnamon
16 Jun 2026
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A mysterious package was delivered to Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center a few weeks ago. All Dennis knew was that it was intended for a certain Michael Robinavitch.
(This work uses a custom workskin which is functional, but may not be optimized for mobile screens. Please use "Desktop" mode for the best experience.)
Bookmarked by EleanorCinnamon
15 Jun 2026
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It's the smoke that wakes him, seeping into his apartment not ten minutes after he finally knocks off.
He's off the couch in half a second, heart pounding with adrenaline, at the kitchen counter before he even realizes that the familiar smell in his nose is burning insulation.
There isn't any alarm going, no sprinklers on, no neighbors screaming or doors banging open, but Buck knows.
"9-1-1," says a vaguely familiar voice on the other end of the phone once he punches in the numbers. "What's your emergency?"
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 21,640
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Comments:
- 156
- Kudos:
- 6,135
- Bookmarks:
- 1,539
- Hits:
- 56,086
Bookmarked by EleanorCinnamon
12 Jun 2026