#salbobby

[panikkarscurls]

not me thinking about sal going back to the firehouse to fight bobby about being fired.

sal finding him in his office.

bobby saying, “you’re gonna learn to respect the chain of command.” in a tone that gets sal’s hackles raised but also sends a flash of something through him.

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

I would like to BOW before your bucktommy fic writing abilities, I'm eating all of these lil fics UP! I know someone else asked, but I do hope you put them on Ao3 so they can be bookmarked!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

I'm jumping the line of asks to say I HAVE DONE THIS AND IT WILL BE HERE. I'll update as I go, but I put all twenty-goddamn-one so far in there.

Minus the Silver Star Eddie/TuxGuido Mask Sal ones, actually, because they'll go in a separate fic so I can link it to the original fic as a series. There's also the lone little Hannigram one I did, which will probably just live on Tumblr.

[racerchix21]

Ohhhhh I just saw you also are doing the smut dialog prompts.

Can I request 8 for sledding and 21 for salbobby?

Smut Queen! This isn’t super smutty but here’s SalBobby hon 🖤 I’m gonna answer the SalEddie request later

This is also going to double as @judymarch15’s belated birthday present (it’s a day late but happy birthday)

21. Did I stutter? Do as your told.”

Picking up an older man at the bar and then getting fucked in the alley beside it tonight wasn't remotely in Sal's plans. He'd thought he was gonna get a couple drinks with the crew, flirt with Tommy in that weird semi platonic way they normally did and then go home and sleep before work. They were supposed to be getting a new probie and he was already dreading meeting whatever cocksure little punk the academy was sending them this time. Hen's still sporting the scars on her leg from where the last probie had freaked out and abandoned her mid emergency rescue.

The 118 were also supposed to be getting a new captain soon and Sal was still hopeful that Chief Simpson was gonna be giving the promotion to him. Even without all the proper schooling to make captain he was still the best possible in house option outside of Hen.

Instead of drinking with his friends he's bent over an old barrel in the alley out behind the bar with his pants around his ankles and the hottest guy in the place pressing up behind him. He can feel the heat of the guys, Bobby or was it Billy's, breath on the side of his face where he's murmuring all sorts of filthy things.

"Spit," Billy no wait it was Bobby says holding his fingers in front of Sal's mouth. "Be a good boy for me and spit." He refuses to acknowledge the noise he lets out at the command or how quickly he complies with the order.

"Such a good boy," Bobby whispers in Sal's ear sending another shiver down his spine as he quickly but efficiently starts prepping him. "Almost done gorgeous then I'll give you what you want."

"I'm ready," Sal grumbles as Bobby slows down as he talks to him then slows down even more as Sal's words process. "I'm ready. I can take whatever you can dish out."

"Nope," Bobby says popping the 'p' continuing with the slower pace.

"I like some pain with my pleasure and wanna be fucked sometime this century, Grandpa," Sal growls again shaking his hips trying to entice the older man. He wants to be fucked and at this point he no longer cares if he's being a brat.

"We either do this my way or you can go back in there and try to find someone else to go home with. Its your choice," Bobby answers before withdrawing his fingers and laying a solitary smack to Sal's ass making the other man keen. "Hold still."

Sal glances over his shoulder making eye contact with Bobby before shaking his ass again getting another smack for his troubles. "What was that for," he complains trying to act innocent suddenly and its obvious from the look on the other man's face he isn't falling for it. The innocent look always makes Tommy melt and he always gets what he wants when he uses it and the fact that Bobby doesn't seem phased throws him off his game.

"Did I stutter? Do as your told," Bobby orders leaving Sal feeling empty for a moment. "Give me just a second and I'll give you what you want." When he finally gives Sal what they both want he has bite his own arm to avoid doing something stupid neither of means.

**

Walking back into the bar 45 minutes later he tries to hide the fact he can feel a twinge in his hip and ass with every step he takes towards where Tommy is still sitting now with a pretty dirty blonde in Sal's abandoned seat. Seeing them he heads to the bar ordering a shot and then he walks out the door already lost in thought about work and the new changes coming his way.

He can feel the piece of scrap paper with Bobby Nash's number burning a hole in his pocket and he sighs.

**

He's stunned into silence when he and Tommy clear the loft stairs and he finds a familiar face sitting at the head of the table. There's a younger looking guy sitting next to him and he can feel Tommy freeze beside him.

"I'm Captain Bobby Nash and this is probationary firefighter Evan Buckley," Bobby says standing to introduce himself and Buckley when it’s obvious he’s not going to. Sal sees a quick flash of recognition in his eyes before its hidden.

Sal doesn’t know what to think or feel at the moment so instead he introduces himself still staring at the man who’d shifted things in his world without realizing it.

AO3

Tagging: @rdng1230 @thecarrott @cliophilyra @sunnywithachanceofbi @nine-one-wanton @xtarmanderx

[bangpop91]

Hey all! So as some of you know I made a side blog bangpop91writing as a place to keep all of my writing after being stuck in tumblr jail for the past couple of weeks. But this has been a busy week for me and I got a lot of writing finished and posted.

I am still taking prompts over on my side blog if you would like to send me one.

Anyways, everything I have posted in the last week is below the cut. Happy reading!

Chapter 4

The fourth installment of the Salevan Daddy Kink story featuring even more smut with some world building.

My Heart Will Go On

An angst fueled coda to 8.15. This story is Athena centric, focusing on her grief as well as the rest of the Grant family as they prepare for Bobby's funeral.

Kept

The Bucktommy baby trapping omegaverse fic that I had been teasing prior to being sent to tumblr jail.

The Captain's Daughter

The newest story in my Love Like A Country Song Series. It is a Mayravi fic inspired by The Farmer's Daughter by Rodney Atkins.

Blanket Forts

Sal is very pregnant, very over it, and having a very bad day. He comes home to his husband Howie who makes it all better.

LAFD Issued Shirts

Bobby finds Sal in the kitchen making breakfast while wearing Bobby's shirt.

Your Head In My Lap

Tommy has a migraine and Evan takes care of him.

Cross Necklaces

Tommy helps Sal get ready for his god daughters confirmation.

The Grant-Panikkar Wedding Night

May and Ravi return home after their wedding to enjoy their honeymoon staycation. This is technically a followup story to The Captain's Daughter.

[mysterious-shelf]

SALBOBBY ENEMIES TO LOVERS OHHHHHHHHHHH

[originalcrime]

Sal had to be transferred because otherwise he and Bobby would’ve broken every bunk in the firehouse fucking rough each shift

[bangpop91writing]

Finding the other wearing their clothes

SalBobby (I’m intrigued for this pairing)

Oh you saucy minx, you know how I feel about these two. I hope you enjoy!

From the Non-Sexual Intimacy Prompts

Waking up alone isn't something Bobby is used to, or he had never been able to get used to. He'd woken up next to Marci all the years they were married before the fire. He had never gotten used to waking g up alone in the first few years that had followed. Then he had met Sal Deluca.

They hadn't hit it off right away, far from. Bobby thought Sal was an arrogant ass hole with a hero complex who was going to get someone killed and Sal thought Bobby was a usurper and a mook. Bobby didn't like Sal, but Sal hated Bobby. Which, truthfully, was okay. It hadn't mattered, especially after Bobby's fired Sal from the 118 and transferring him to the 122. They didn't have to like each other let alone try to get along and be civil with each other because after the confrontation that led to Sal's dismissal from the 118 they didn't see each other again.

-Read the rest under the cut or on AO3-

Or they hadn't until Sal and Tommy had joined the 118 at the bar celebrating Hen's birthday over strong drinks and games of pool. Bobby maintains Sal had started it. He doesn't remember what the fight was about, but he remembers Sal had started it. The two men were squared up next to the pool table ready to tear each others throats off. Bobby remembers Henry, the very sweet paralegal Tommy had been dating at the time, nervously asking Tommy if someone should do something to separate Sal and Bobby.

Bobby doesn't remember Tommy's rolled eyes, just him offhandedly saying to let the two men fight it out, that Sal would calm down after being smoked out. Sal remembers Chimney's annoyance yelling at the pair to go outside and kill each other so the rest of them didn't get kicked out of the bar. They did take it outside, only they hadn't killed each other.

Bobby was certain that when Wendell suggested he start dating again he hadn't meant hate fucking his former team member. He's certainly that is something Wendell would classify as self destructive behavior. But it hadn't felt self destructive, it felt healing. It didn't take long for it to stop being hate fucking and become Bobby's life line.

Now they have been married going on five years and Bobby hasn't woken up alone in five years, when one or both of them being on shift as the sole exception to the rule. Bobby doesn't wake up alone because Sal is anything but a morning person. Sal would rather clean the grossest of latrines on his hands and knees with nothing but a tooth brush and a cup of water than pry himself out of bed before ten on their shared days off.

Bobby is the early riser, enjoying the calm of a hot cup of coffee while watching the run rise on the back patio while reading the morning news.

Almost as rare as Sal waking up before Bobby is him in the kitchen cooking a massive breakfast. Sal thinks a massive to go mug of coffee and a almost burnt bagel with far to much cream cheese is a good breakfast. Bobby is the one who enjoys a large perfectly balanced breakfast.

But there Sal is standing in the center of their large kitchen cooking breakfast while singing an old Italian song, softly but very off key. Sal is wearing one of the many LAFD issued t-shirts that fill their drawers and a pair of soft gray sweat pants. Bobby doesn't know what the words Sal is singing mean, and hes a notoriously awful singer, but he is frying bacon, there is a fritata resting on the counter, next to a box of pastries from Sal's favorite little Italian Bakery. Sal has even set up their rarely used espresso machine.

"What's all this?" Bobby asked wrapping himself around his husband nuzzling him. He smells like fresh baked bread, the sweat from whatever early morning workout Sal had done, and something else familiar that Bobby can't put his finger on at the moment.

"Did you forget what today is?" Sal asked teasing him as the shorter man removed the bacon from the pan setting it on a paper towel lined plate.

"Uhhhhh…" Bobby doesn't know what day it is. Sal's birthday was a couple months ago, and their anniversary isn't for another couple months. He doesn't think it is a holiday or any other anniversaries. When Bobby doesn't answer making it obvious he doesn't know what is so special about this morning Sal rolls his eyes.

Sal has this way of rolling his eyes that is louder than any words he could say. This eye roll is loud enough Bobby thinks they could be heard across the world. It isn't mean, nor is it intended to be. It's filled with love and humor and fond exasperation.

"Happy birthday Tesoro Mio." Bobby groans, blushing, hiding his face in the side of Sal's. He can't believe he forgot his birthday. It is the only thing besides their wedding anniversary, or sex, that could convince Sal to get up before ten on their shared days off. "Don't be embarrassed, you're getting old, but don't worry, I love you anyway."

"I'll show you old." Bobby grumbled against the side of Sal's face making his husband laugh, patting his hand.

"Come on birthday boy, let's eat, before our breakfast gets cold. I made picked up corvette, and made us cappuccinos. I even made a fratata and bacon."

"Not yet." Bobby rumbled tightening his hold on Sal. Sal might be shorter than Bobby, most people are, but he is stockier. If Sal really wanted to, he could easily break Bobby's hold on him. Instead he relaxes back into Bobby's hug, tilting his head backwards for a good morning kiss.

"Surprised you're wearing a work shirt this morning." Bobby said as soon as their slow, chaste, morning kisses came to an end. This time Sal's rolled eyes were pure frustration as he broke Bobby's hold on him.

Bobby blames his slowness on waking up alone. It's not until Sal is setting their breakfast out on the table, and begins plating it Bobby realizes the LAFD issued shirt is loose on Sal's shoulders and longer than usual, the familiar scent on Sal was Bobby's cologne. Sal was wearing Bobby's shirt.

"You're wearing my shirt." He whispered backing Sal up against the table. Sal made a soft humming sound of approval, wrapping his arms around Bobby's middle leaning in for another hug.

"I missed you last night." Sal admits softly in a rare moment of vulnerability that only Bobby gets to see.

"I missed you too." Bobby promised as they stood in the kitchen hugging. It had been a long couple weeks of shifts not quite lining up and not enough time together at home. Bobby is sure the breakfast Sal made is delicious, that it would taste better now while it's hot. But taking some time just to hold each other, just to exist in each others bubble is more important.

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

Hello I'm back again, here for the usual if you're amenable!!!

I'm thinking 45 for saleddie, can be in the silver star world or not up to you.

And if you're up for it either 41/76 for salbobby, I think both could be soooo juicy.

“I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice.”

(This being anything but Silver Star-verse has implications that tempt me, but I love writing these magical idiots.)

Sal isn't stupid, he's aware of the fact that he's been playing with fire all week. They've run into each other on two calls, during a fight, and just out in the world two other times. Every time, he leans in and whispers filth in Eddie's ear, because he gets all flushed and it's so goddamn cute.

"You look good in that uniform, Diaz."

"You should get the blue shirt. It'll look great on my floor."

"You know, I could just pull your little bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice."

The last one earns him a snarl, too. Sal almost drops to his knees right in the middle of a battle. He has to wait until after, when they're locked in a family bathroom at Westfield. He gets on his knees, tugs the body suit aside, and swallows Eddie's dick like a starving man.

"They're not--fuck--bikini bottoms, you asshole," Eddie grunts, fucking into his mouth.

Sal hums consideringly, pulls off Eddie's cock with a slick noise. "Close enough."

"Shut the fuck up," Eddie says, bumping the head of his dick against Sal's cheek. "God, I hate you so much sometimes."

"Aw, princess, just sometimes?" Sal teases, nuzzling the base of his dick. "Gotta step my game up. Turn around."

He fucks Eddie over the sink, fingers threaded through his hair so he can pull his head back and make him watch.

"Look at you being all pretty for me," Sal says against his jaw, and Eddie whines. "Look at you being mine."

"N-not--"

"You said you were," Sal reminds him, locking eyes with him in the mirror. "Said you were always mine."

Eddie bites his lip, nods. They'd taken vows, hands clasped under a field of stars a millennia ago. It's Sal's favorite thing to remember in his dreams.

"What do you say, sweetheart?" he asks. "You still mine?"

"Y-yeah," Eddie gasps. "You?"

Sal grins, kisses his neck tenderly. "Ain't even a question."

---

“The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”

“Would you reconsider if i was sober?”

Sal meets Tommy, Hen, and Chimney for drinks. When Nash shows up, Sal tries to be nice, but he's his mother's son. So it mostly comes out as passive aggression with a heavy dose of aggression.

He has to take a leak, and when he looks up from washing his hands, Nash is there.

"I think we need to have a talk," Nash says.

"I don't think so," Sal says, ripping a couple paper towels from the dispenser and drying his hands as he turns to look at him. "You decided to cheat in a one-sided dick measuring contest. What's there to talk about?"

"You got lucky--"

"I fucking did not, thank you, I'm good at my job," Sal snaps, because he is.

"Yeah, which was why I was just going to reprimand you until you decided to let your mouth run the show," Nash says, and Sal scoffs. "Who do you think got on the phone with every house in the area looking for a place for you to go after your suspension was up? The chief? He's too busy."

Sal flexes his hands, feels like an asshole, hates feeling like an asshole. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"People in that house look up to you. You've got the most experience out of any of them, you're going to be a great captain one day, and if anyone with less experience and less instinct ran off trying to do what you did, they could kill themselves," Nash points out. "What I had to say was for them, too. It wasn't a dick-measuring contest."

"Don't get into fights you can't win, right?" Sal mutters.

"Oh, I'd win. But you were my subordinate. It doesn't work like that."

Sal hears the tease in Nash's voice, snaps to his gaze, sees the smirk on his face. "You think you'd measure up against me?"

Nash's eyes flick around Sal's face. "What, you don't hate me anymore, now you want to fuck me?"

"Never hated you, always wanted to fuck you," Sal corrects.

"Not happening."

"Would you reconsider if I was sober?" he asks, and Nash looks away, his cheeks flushing real prettily. "My sister's in the program, I'm not gonna ask questions. But give me about an hour. I'm a big guy."

The door opens, another guy walking in and stumbling toward the stall to puke. It breaks the tension, and they walk back to the booth.

Sal switches to water and soda, eating half the basket of fries Tommy orders. By the time they all split off, Sal ambles outside, pulls out his phone to call a cab if he needs to.

"Deluca?" Nash says, and Sal looks up. "Let me give you a ride home."

They end up on Sal's couch, their clothes askew, and Sal is somehow the one in Nash's lap. And, yeah, alright, the guy measures up, good for him.

"Uh-uh," Nash says against his throat when Sal reaches down to grab himself. "The only way you're getting off is on my thigh."

"Yes, sir," Sal gasps out, and Nash sucks a bruise onto his collarbone.