#seven sentence sundays

[intrepidacious]

Holiday special request incoming

Steve Rogers x reader under the mistletoe

stay now | s.r.

a/n: i didn't have room to mention it but this was totally loki's fault btw (never trust a loki when there's mistletoe)

They’re like weeds, Steve thinks with an exasperated huff, seasonal parasites that apparently love to follow him wherever he goes; all day long, branches of mistletoe have appeared hanging from doorframes and lampshades and even one of the helicarriers. He’d normally blame Tony or Sam for this, because judging by their shit-eating grins they at least know something, but he’s gotten stuck with Pepper, too, which got him a holler—it was a kiss on the cheek, for crying out loud.

Anyway, the point is that this has been going on for hours and he’s starting to suspect that there’s something supernatural about this infestation and someone should look into this as soon as possible, actually, because there might be some nefarious intent behind it and—

"Steve, you’re stalling," you grin, your gaze flitting between his face and somewhere above his head where he knows, he knows there’s another one of the damn things but he doesn’t want to look up. The alternative, though, is continuing to stare at you, which doesn’t make things better at all and he should really stop doing that and get his shit together pronto and, god, is he blushing?

"We don’t," he starts and has to clear his throat immediately when you take a step closer, "we don’t have to if you don’t, uhm—"

Your hand comes up to his cheek and his voice gives out as you press your lips right next to the corner of his mouth, lingering just long enough for his mind to go blank; and so, when you move away from him again, he catches your chin between his fingers, your smile steady as his heartbeat rushes wildly in his ears, and then he leans in again.

[theotherbuckley]

Several Sentence Sunday

I’m alive guys.. I haven’t posted much lately because uni is once again kicking my ass but here’s a snippet from my bucktommy meeting at physio fic au. These men have basically just met and I’m already wanting to smush their faces together and make them kiss but we are so far away from that 😭

He manoeuvres himself until he’s sitting again, closing his eyes as he leans against the wall, trying not to feel sorry for himself.

His phone vibrates in his pocket but he ignores it, knowing it’s probably Maddie asking about his appointment. He’s not ready to answer her yet.

It vibrates again and Buck sighs, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. To his surprise it’s not Maddie, warmth rushes to his cheeks when he sees the messages.

Unknown:

Get home okay?

It’s Tommy 🚁

He’s so kind, checking in to see if he’s okay, even though he drove him home. Buck would cry if he wasn’t already doing so.

His hands shake as he types back, adrenaline and pain rendering his body useless.

Buck:

Elevator broke

A series of dots appear on his screen, indicating Tommy’s typing, before they disappear. It’s hard not to feel disappointed.

He tries to force his mind back onto other things, namely getting up the rest of the stairs before his phone vibrates, this time for longer, Tommy’s new contact flashing on the screen as his call comes through.

Buck stares at the screen, mouth dropping open slightly before he rushes to answer, bringing the phone to his ear.

“T—Tommy?” Buck asks, voice wavering as he speaks. He doesn’t have time to feel embarrassed before Tommy is speaking into his ear.

“Are you okay, Evan?” Tommy says, concern evident in his voice.

“I—” he means to say he’s fine, but there’s something about the worry in Tommy’s voice, or maybe just Tommy in general, that stops him from lying, “I’m sitting on the stairs,” Buck admits as another tear rolls down his cheek. He knocks his head against the wall, closing his eyes and sighing, hiccuping slightly.

“Stay right, there,” Tommy commands. Buck’s in too much pain to properly understand what he’s doing.

“Okay,” Buck whispers.

It could be 10 seconds or 10 minutes later, that Buck opens his eyes to Tommy rushing through the doors to the apartment. Buck doesn’t have a chance to question it because Tommy is right there next to him. He has his large hands wrapped around his face, his thumbs hover over his cheeks like he’s considering wiping his tears away but thinks better of it.

Buck finds himself disappointed that he doesn’t, craving those calloused fingers to wipe away his pain. He wants to lean into those hands, let Tommy hold him, and comfort him — so he does, he can always pass it off as the pain making him delirious if he has to.

Tommy doesn’t question it, too busy checking Buck for any bruising, eyes darting over his body for signs of injury.

“Evan…” Tommy whispers, eyes wide and sad. Buck doesn’t like that look on his face, he much prefers the scrunchy smile. He squirms on the step, pushing his face further into Tommy’s palm to hide.

Tommy chuckles slightly, a soft noise that has warmth blooming in Buck’s chest. He thinks Tommy must have some sort of magic healing powers because he’s already feeling better in his presence.

Tags:

Credit for the idea @bucked-it-up

Tagged by @perfectlysunny02 <3

SSS tags: @bidisasterevankinard @diazheartsbuckley @jeeyuns @honestlydarkprincess @eddiebabygirldiaz @jesuisici33 @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @giddyupbuck @eowon @watchyourbuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @rainbow-nerdss @cal-daisies-and-briars @evanbegins @diazsdimples @wikiangela @bucksbirthmark  @underwaterninja13 @daffi-990 @aspecbuddie @bucks-daddy-issues @tizniz @monsterrae1 @loveyouanyway @hippolotamus @actualalligator @pirrusstuff @actuallyitsellie @dangerpronebuddie @babybibuck @exhuastedpigeon @buddieswhvre @lonelychicago @rogerzsteven @bucksbignaturals @smallandalmosthonest @spotsandsocks @evanbi-ckley @inell @ronordmann @snarkythewoecrow @lavenderleahy

@justcharlie10 @rdng1230 lmk if you want to be added or removed

[bigfootsmom]

seven (ish) sentence sunday

thank you to my beloved @princessfbi for the tag (thank you to everyone else who keeps tagging me in things I’m sorry I’ve been kinda mia😭)

I guess I write coda fics now. The first thing I thought when the jet flew over buck was how tf can he still hear anything and then this was born

Prolonged exposure to loud noises can cause permanent hearing loss. The repeated abuse dampens the cochlear nerve and damages the little hairlike structures, the cilia, located in the ear canal. At 120 decibels can cause ear discomfort, 130 decibels leads to pain, and anything above 140 decibels can rupture an eardrum. Buck already understood all of that in an academic way. It had all been words he read on paper, but he’d never had any of the first hand experience. A jet engine can produce a sound as loud as 160 decibels, depending on proximity and Buck had been pretty damn proximal.

Buck is not thinking about cilia or decibels now. All he’s thinking is jet engines are really fucking loud as he braces an arm against the cement barrier and vomits all over the asphalt.

Tagging

@underwaterninja13 @father-salmon @monsterrae1 @lonelychicago @honestlydarkprincess

@swiftietartt @holdmygum @smallandalmosthonest @shyaudacity @eddiebabygirldiaz

@try-set-me-on-fire @iinryer @eowon @boykisserbuckley @diazsdimples and anyone else who would like to post something!

[strandnreyes]

thanks @heartstringsduet @nisbanisba @carlos-in-glasses @emsprovisions !! here’s something from a fic exploring the throwaway line about tk’s softball league

“Nice job, babe,” Carlos praises as he wraps TK in a hug. “You were amazing.”

TK shrugs as they separated. “Eh. I’m still a little rusty. I’ll get better throughout the season.”

Carlos rolls his eyes. “Well, I thought you were amazing. It was fun to watch a game that didn’t end with Owen Strand punching someone.”

TK laughs. “Hey, it’s not too late for that to still happen,” he argues and Carlos shakes his head with a smile. TK grows a little subdued as he looks over at his other teammates meeting up with their loved ones. “We’re going out to celebrate. Families are welcome. Do you wanna come or are you going back to work?”

It’s a fair assumption, but it still hurts to be asked that.

tagging: @paperstorm @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @orchidscript @ironheartwriter @basilsunrise @bonheur-cafe @butchreyes @tellmegoodbye @theghostofashton @freneticfloetry @chicgeekgirl89 @carlos-tk @carlossreaders @henrygrass @reyesstrand @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @alrightbuckaroo + open tag!!

[henrygrass]

Seven Sentence Sunday

Thank you for the tag, @heartstringsduet! Once again, I am working on an Andrea-centric fic because I just can't let go of my favorite Lone Star mom. This is sort of a part two of "Love Woven Through Time." Anyway, here's the snippet:

“The lights are still on; there’s still time, mijo,” she reassures Carlos, giving his arm a gentle squeeze to calm his nerves.

Just then, the auditorium lights dim, as if to prove her wrong. She huffs, her eyes darting to the entrance, hoping that TK will burst through any moment. Knowing him, he’s likely racing through the city in the ambulance, sirens wailing, determined to reach Jonah before the curtain rises.

“Is your kid in the play?” a woman beside Carlos chirps, her voice high-pitched and piercing, rising above the chatter of the auditorium.

Andrea turns her head slightly, catching sight of Carlos meticulously adjusting the camera, his brows furrowed in concentration as he prepares to capture every moment of Jonah’s first school play.

“Yes,” he replies, his focus unwavering as he fine-tunes the settings, leaving little room for small talk.

“My Derek is playing the royal messenger,” she announces. “But all the kids playing the animal friends must be talented too,” she adds, puffing out her chest with a hint of pride in her son’s role.

Derek… Andrea’s mind races, connecting the child’s name with a conversation she had with TK last week. This must be Veronica, the mom who commented on TK's chocolate cake during the last parent-teacher meeting for the play, saying, “Good thing you’re a paramedic; you can save us from this.” Andrea can almost see the scene unfold as TK mimicked her, complete with her dramatic coughing. Although she was unaware that TK was the one who made it, Andrea still glares at her; she will remember that face.

Carlos turns to Veronica, nodding. “Oh, that’s fantastic! You must be so proud!” he responds, his voice laced with sincerity, though Andrea can detect the familiar undertone of his own chest swelling with pride. She suppresses a grin, bracing herself for what’s to come.

“Mine’s playing the prince,” he beams, his focus shifting back to the camera.

Open tag & no pressure tagging

@heartstringsduet @emsprovisions @alrightbuckaroo @nisbanisba @welcometololaland

@thisbuildinghasfeelings @lemonlyman-dotcom @decafdino @reyesstrand @futures-tense

@bonheur-cafe @carlos-in-glasses @theghostofashton @tellmegoodbye @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@herefortarlos @strandnreyes @carlos-tk @lightningboltreader @sapphic--kiwi

@ladytessa74 @paperstorm @chicgeekgirl89 @ironheartwriter @everlastingday

@carlossreaders @pimento-playing-hopscotch @goodways @liminalmemories21

(Please, let me know if you want to be added or removed)

[carlos-in-glasses]

Thank you for the tag @heartstringsduet @nisbanisba @futures-tense @emsprovisions 🩷

I got all reminiscent about Suddenly, in the Silence the other day, so here are some sentences from that!:

"Why are you being so weird about this?" TK asks in a whispered demand. "You were raised way more religious than me." He points towards Carlos' neck, remembering mid-gesture that Carlos hasn't worn his fine gold cross on a chain since their honeymoon. He just hasn't felt right about it lately.

“So what if I was?” Carlos retorts, annoyed. “I’m an adult now – I’ve done my own thinking and I’ve done a lot of it, believe me. And you're the one being weird."

TK watches his husband sip antacid like La Croix. "I can’t help it. I can feel him."

"Well, I can't." Carlos slams the Pepto bottle onto the counter. "Okay?"

"Baby," TK soothes quietly, bracing against the wave of his husband’s pain.

"If you can feel him, and Mom can feel him, but I can't – what does that mean?" Carlos asks with a heavy, defeated shrug. "Does it mean he's got nothing to say to me?"

Read on Ao3

Open tag and tag below!:

@paperstorm @thisbuildinghasfeelings @lightningboltreader

@goodways @strandnreyes @reyesstrand @bonheur-cafe

@alrightbuckaroo @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @rmd-writes

@welcometololaland @hereghostslive @herefortarlos

@sugdenlovesdingle @honeybee-taskforce @theghostofashton

@chicgeekgirl89 @emsprovisions @tellmegoodbye

@orchidscript @freneticfloetry @ladytessa74 @liminalmemories21

@never-blooms @nancys-braids @captain-gillian

@everlastingday @sapphic--kiwi @henrygrass

@eclectic-sassycoweyes @pimento-playing-hopscotch

@kiwichaeng @literateowl @butch-buckley @butchreyes

@carlossreaders @rangersoup @annoyingcloudearthquake @ironheartwriter

@lemonlyman-dotcom - If you want to share/haven't already! No pressure ever! ❤️🩷🧡💛💚���🩵💜

[heartstringsduet]

Happy Sunday. Let's not think about what comes tomorrow. Here is a snippet from the upcoming chapter of A Few Moons Ago 🌙

Carlos stalls on his next step, turning back to the building. Marjan and Mateo nearly stumble into him on the way out, pulling off their masks, chatting. It’s only a gut feeling, until he walks just a step closer to the sliding doors and hears the faintest of knocks again.“Is your paramedic team still inside?” he asks the firefighters. 

They give each other a look, before doing the same as him, scanning the outside, knowing instantly which rig belongs to them. Marjan turns back toward the entrance, before grabbing her radio. “Cap, where is EMS at?”

“I ordered them out…Shit!”

Not waiting for any instructions, Carlos rushes back in. Not every floor was cleared, but Carlos flies up the first flight of stairs, the second, the third, with two firefighters behind him. The heartbeat he thought sounded calm just a minute ago now appears unlike a heartbeat at all. 

It’s too slow. OPEN TAG &

@carlossreaders @annoyingcloudearthquake @carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk @future-tense

@paperstorm @strandnreyes @henrygrass @lightningboltreader @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@lemonlyman-dotcom @theghostofashton @ladytessa74 @freneticfloetry

@liminalmemories21 @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @pameluke @neverblooms

@welcometololaland @rmd-writes @alrightbuckaroo @decafdino @liminalmemories21

@tellmegoodbye @ironheartwriter @literateowl @reyesstrand

@butchreyes @corsage @honeybee-taskforce @orchidscript

@never-blooms @irispurpurea @everlastingday @theghostofashton

@nisbanisba @bonheur-cafe @certifiedflower @firstprince-history-huh @denizoid

@nancys-braids @chicgeekgirl89 @ironheartwriter @pimento-playing-hopscotch

@rangersoup @the-126-family @carlos-tk @ladyknight1512 @ameriicansrequiems

[cha-melodius]

I have no idea when I last posted one of these but it's been... a while. Thank you to everyone who never stopped tagging me, even if only because my username was in your tag list and you never took it out. 😅 And thank you to @loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @onthewaytosomewhere, and @eusuntgratie who tagged me today!

The subject of this may look familiar, especially if you read this hug ficlet. Yeah, I'm already working on fleshing it out, I couldn't resist my spy boys.

Henry doesn’t watch it all the time, of course. He’s not a stalker. But something about knowing where Alex is makes Henry feel closer to him. It’s a terrible, awful habit, but he gets so little human connection, apart from Bea. The tracker is another little lifeline—one he shouldn’t rely on, but absolutely does. These days, he limits his check-ins to once a week, but sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly lonely, he’ll open up the tracker and just watch it. It’s comforting, knowing that on the other end of this tether, Alex is out there trying to save the world.

Leaving an open tag for anyone who wants to share, but also tagging some more folks under the cut!

@cricketnationrise @rmd-writes @clottedcreamfudge @tintagel-or-cockleshells @firenati0n

@blueeyedgrlwrites @iboatedhere @pippinoftheshire @porcelainmortal @thesleepyskipper

@wolfpup026 @justabigoldnerd @three-drink-amy @kiwiana-writes @faketrex

@orchidscript @14carrotghoul @sparklepocalypse @welcometololaland @indestructibleheart

@myheartalivewrites @ninzied @leaves-of-laurelin @nicijones @mirilyawrites

[the-golden-comet]

✨🌺 Seven Sentence Sunday 🌺✨

Hello, everyone! I hope you had a wonderful weekend! If not exciting, I hope that these days gave you plenty of time to rest and recuperate for the upcoming week! 💛✨

Thank you for tagging me here for seven sentences, @drchenquill !

Here are seven sentences from my current WIP ITROG 🌺✨

It was….a giant tomato. A HUMONGOUS tomato! By the gods, Tyrell never thought produce could be so large! A hopeful patter returned to his heart as he scanned for more; Dead mice, voles, smaller creatures the likes that Tyrell has never even seen had been littered around the stash. The hunter checked the dead rodents for signs of disease. Nope, still fresh.

I will leave this tag +open for anyone who wishes to do it, at your leisure of course! 💛✨

Have a marvelous week, everybody! 💫

✨👇 Tag List for Writing Snippets below. DM me if you’d like to be added 👇✨

Tag List for writing tidbits (lmk if you want + or -)

@paletteofseaglass , @basketcase1880 , @halfbakedspuds , @notwritinganyflufftoday ,

@twopercentboy , @mxtansy , @menaceofmemory , @unfilteredmoonchild , @blerdsong ,

@iamwhimsy , @beansmakesthings , @birdycage , @tiagems , @narkaholic ,

@irolynn , @macinchiz , @owlsandwich , @stephtuckerauthor,

@sarandipitywrites , @mauvecatfic , @finchwrites , @aurumni-writes , @uiraya ,

@justanotherchangeling , @ahopelessnecromantic , @ryns-ramblings , @oleanderbailey , @buffythevampirelover ,

@soulcoda , @simonnebethel , @leacher , @augustrhodes , @spideronthesun ,

@peach-the-gospel , @alintalzin , @mjparkerwriting

[emsprovisions]

Happy Sunday everyone! We get the adoption episode tomorrow!!! I’m so excited but also sad as we get closer and closer to the end 😭 in the meantime, enjoy some domestic husbands and Jonah 💕

Forty minutes later, the makeshift family is dressed and TK’s making eggs and pancakes while Jonah carefully cuts up bananas on his stool at the counter beside TK, with a child-safe knife in his tiny hands. 

Carlos smiles at the sight as he emerges, tie undone and leather satchel and stetson waiting by the door. 

TK turns, always attuned with his husband’s presence and smiles at Carlos like it’s the first time he’s seen him all morning, despite the fact that they showered together not even twenty minutes ago, and Carlos is the one of the two of them with bad eyesight. 

“Hi, baby,” he greets anyway, turning off the burner as he finishes scrambling enough eggs for him and Jonah and stepping towards Carlos, dutifully tying his tie like he’s done every morning since Carlos became a Ranger. “I told you this one would look so nice with this shirt!”

“You were right, babe,” Carlos laughs. “Is there coffee?”

“Of course,” TK nods. “And a bagel with lox and cream cheese with your name on it.”

Carlos smiles, pulling TK close and kissing his cheek. “Oh, don’t I have the best husband.”

“You do,” TK grins, “And you should never forget it.”

“I never could,” Carlos laughs softly and presses another kiss to TK’s cheek.

Thank you for the tags @heartstringsduet! No pressure tags No pressure tags @carlos-in-glasses @carlossreaders @ironheartwriter @alrightbuckaroo @butchreyes @strandnreyes @reyesstrand @tellmegoodbye @eclectic-sassycoweyes @lightningboltreader @henrygrass @everlastingday @rangersoup @bonheur-cafe @chicgeekgirl89 @decafdino @paperstorm @captain-gillian @lemonlyman-dotcom @nancys-braids @nisbanisba @welcometololaland @futures-tense + Open tag 🏷

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Tagged by @eddiebabygirldiaz for seven sentence Sunday! Here’s uhhhhh more than that from a buddietommy vacation threesome fic-

The day is hot enough that Buck is curled up like a bug on the dock between them. He’d stayed in the water longer than Tommy or Eddie had, and had swum out further than either of them, so when he’d crawled back up onto the old wood planks he’d chugged an entire water bottle and promptly passed out. Eddie glances down at his bare torso, just starting to get a little pink.

“Should probably get sunscreen on him again.”

Tommy snorts as he leans backwards, stretching out to grab the spray can. “And you’re worried you’ve forgotten how to be a dad.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie says as Buck, still asleep, makes a similar sound when Tommy mists him all over with cold sunscreen. “It’s been months, man, that’s so long for a kid, who knows what he’s even into now-”

“Minecraft, right?” Tommy says as he smooths his hand over a few places the sunscreen pooled on his boyfriend’s back. “Wasn’t he on a video call with you and Buck about it for like three hours on Friday? Something about- uh- command blocks?”

Eddie is mildly impressed Tommy remembers the word — maybe — because he certainly doesn’t. Buck had only been slightly better at following along than he had as they’d squinted at the probably impressive pixels on the laptop screen. “I don’t know, I just feel like…” Every morning, still, he wakes up and thinks he needs to get Chris’ breakfast started. Whole parts of his being are wired around taking care of his kid, but since he’s been gone Eddie has been trying — in fits and starts and most of the time guiltily — to figure out what the rest of him is for. It’s part of what got him into the whole mess in the first place, chasing after the dreams of a 19 year old who got those dreams from his parents. A nice wife (but they never liked her, did they) and a good job (but firefighting is too dangerous, isn’t it) and a picket fence (one closer to home, Eddie, you’ve gone too far away.) So he owed it to Chris, owed it to himself, to figure out what the fuck he actually wants, so he doesn’t keep twisting himself into knots and taking out everyone around him when the line breaks. He’s not sure he’s any closer to whatever that is — other than it’s unlikely to include a wife of any kind — but in the time he’s taken trying, what if other things got lost in the upheaval? “I keep thinking I’ll just- not remember to do something. Forget how field trip permissions slips work, or not know what shoe size he wears, or- I don’t know. Anything. I won’t pack his lunch and it won’t be the end of the world but he’ll be hungry that day.”

Tommy leans back on his palms and looks across at him, quiet and thoughtful for a few moments in that way he has, like he’s thinking through every possible response before he speaks. He is, maybe; he’d confessed to Eddie that he’d spoken too quickly when he was younger, is embarrassed about a lot of the dumb shit he’d said, so he tries to take his time with his words now. “Eddie. You took us up here this weekend to check and make sure this place is accessible to take your kid to this summer. And- I get that’s a big thing, a big gesture, and maybe you’re worried about messing up the small stuff, but… You’ve still got his favorite kind of jelly in the fridge that nobody else eats. You love him, and he knows that. You’re gonna do fine.” He shrugs. “And he’s almost fourteen, if you forget to hand him lunch he’s gonna let you know.”

Eddie huffs a small laugh. “Yeah, I guess he will.” He groans a little, shaking his head. “Fourteen years old, that’s fucking crazy. I don’t feel old enough for that to be true.”

Tommy rolls his neck so it audibly cracks. “Yeah, yeah, you whippersnapper.”

Eddie grins at him. “You feeling the exercise, old man? Need to go lay down?” He cackles and leans away as Tommy grabs the can and sprays a burst of sunscreen at him.

Between them Buck grunts at the commotion, and rolls towards Eddie. He presses his face into the meat of his bare side above his trunks, and wraps his long arms around his torso. Eddie glances up at Tommy, who just looks fondly amused. “Uh. Wrong guy, there, bud.”

Buck stills, and then pulls back a little to squint up at him. Eddie’s not particularly ticklish, but something like goosebump are shivering across the skin of his stomach where Buck’s forearm rests against him. He has to actively try not to shudder as Buck pulls back and rolls the other way, Eddie watching hypnotized as he gives Tommy the same treatment. Buck presses a little kiss onto Tommy’s hip, in the spot he had just been cuddled into on Eddie, and Eddie’s mouth goes dry.

Tommy lets out a little breath, and Eddie doesn’t think he’ll be able to use the sun as an excuse for how pink he’s gotten as his eyes snap up to the other man’s face. Except- he’d been expecting a raised eyebrow, a flat mouth, some visual indicator of disapproval, that this is one step Buckandeddie too far, that all the rest of their codependent lives have been fine, a platonic kind of care built over years of being there for each other through the worst of the worst, but now the uncomfortable answer to what Eddie wants, the uncomfortable answer he’s been trying to avoid because it's something he cannot have, has been found out and the messy insides of him will have once again ruined something good. But what he finds is a tiny little smile and heavy eyes that-

Well, they don’t look disapproving in the slightest.

“You guys hungry?” Buck mutters, words muffled by Tommy’s skin. “We should go start the grill.”

Tommy’s little smile gets wide and lazy, eyes still stuck on Eddie. “I could eat,” he says.

Tagging @iinryer @shitouttabuck @butchdiaz @chronicowboy @homerforsure @rewritetheending @bigfootsmom if you have anything you want to share!

[intrepidacious]

Happy Sunday!

For seven sentence drabbles: Steve Rogers in love with the avengers assistant please 🥺

change of plans | s.r.

a/n: in case you couldn't tell, i love writing smitten steve 🥰

"And then at five you have that—Steve, are you even listening to me?"

"Hmm," he says and you have to resist the urge to smack him in the back of the head with your planner; he has that weird look on his face again that he always gets when you’re just trying to be on your best professional behavior, that distant smile combined with his most attentive gaze. He contemplates you like an artist trying to figure out the best way to map out perspectives, and you know from experience it means he hasn’t taken in a single word of what you’ve just said.

"Remind me to up your caffeine in the morning," you murmur, remembering something you wanted to ask Bruce about and hastily scribbling down a couple of notes while continuing your walk to the elevator; you don’t even notice you’re about to run into a wall before Steve holds out his hand to stop you just in time.

"About that," he says, clearing his throat, "you wanna get coffee with me some time?"

It’s your turn to stare at him, then, wide-eyed and frozen to the spot; his cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink, then, which makes it unlikely that you might have misheard him and so you blink a few times before you hear yourself reply, "I’ll clear your schedule."

And it’s a good thing you’ve taken down those notes earlier because the smile splitting his face makes your mind go completely blank.

[theotherbuckley]

Hi hello I am here to request many sentences

🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵

A whole heap of words just for you 😘

🦵 - Buck and Tommy Meet at Physio

Buck keeps eagerly scrolling through wikipedia articles about sharks before his phone dings again beside him. 

Tommy: Did you get the hot bag?

Oh yeah, that’s what he was supposed to do. 

A little shyly, he types back.

Buck: Uhhhhh

Tommy: …

Buck: On it 🫡🫡

Tommy:  Dork

Buck grins to himself, lifting out of his seat and hobbling over to the kitchen to microwave the wheat bag. Walking was slowly getting easier, he could make his way around most of the apartment unaided now, though he was still constantly side-eyeing the stairs. Thankfully, after Maddie had a strongly-worded conversation with the building manager, the elevator was back up and running, meaning Buck could leave his apartment without fear, if he needed to. Sadly that means Tommy wouldn't need to carry him up a flight of stairs either, but that wasn’t something he was thinking too hard about.

The 118 had all collectively come over a few weeks back, when Buck had finally relented and let them move his bed down the stairs. His back was very grateful, but he couldn’t help the flare of jealousy that swirled around in his gut seeing them all so easily manoeuvre his bed down the stairs without even breaking a sweat. 

It isn’t fair that Buck can’t even walk up a flight of stairs without wishing the ground would open below him and swallow his leg whole, taking away the pain with it. He should be happy that he can walk at all now, it’s just he thought it would have happened sooner.

He’s already far behind the schedule he set himself to recover. 

The microwave beeps before he has time to scold himself for that. 

He gets himself settled back on the couch, stretching out his leg in front of him and sighing in relief when the warmth of his hot bag seeps into his leg, soothing away the uncomfortable ache that constantly clings to his calf. He takes out his phone, ready to send a photo to Tommy as evidence that he is, in fact, taking care of himself. But as he looks through his camera, the jagged scars of his leg seem to scream through the phone. The lines are a harsh red, a stark contrast to the pale, sun-starved skin of his leg. 

A cold wave of grief sweeps through him, his body feeling numb and raw despite the heat bag resting on top. He sighs, leaning back against the couch and closing his eyes. He hates this. Hates the way his body doesn’t feel like his own anymore. Hates that he can’t outrun what happened to him because there will always be evidence of his broken leg tattooed across the limb. It’s ugly and broken, a lot like how he feels, which he supposes is fitting. 

Most days, he is too focused on his recovery to care about the state of his skin. On days when he feels particularly vulnerable, he wears his sweats, letting the material rub across the tender skin, unpleasant but bearable. Today it just hits him hard, for no reason that he can articulate. He just doesn’t want Tommy to see how broken he really is, even if logically he knows it wouldn’t make a difference.

As if summoned by his thought, his phone vibrates in his palm, Tommy’s name flashing briefly.

Tommy: Hot bag acquired?

Buck smiles softly, the message alone helping to dispel some of the negative thoughts swirling around in his head. He takes the bag off of his leg for a moment, taking a selfie with a big thumbs up and the hot pack clearly in view.

Buck: [image attached]

Got it :)

[bigfootsmom]

Seven sentence Sunday

No one tagged me but I actually have something to share for once so I took matters into my own hands :3

They stay like that for a moment longer before the energy shifts, tension nearly palpable in the air as electricity dances across Buck’s skin, emanating from all the places Tommy is touching him. Buck grinds back against Tommy’s hips, a pleading noise bubbling up in the back of his throat.

“Greedy little thing,” Tommy growls in his ear, hand leaving Buck’s throat and trailing over his chest, stopping to tweak his nipples before settling over the soft flesh of Buck’s lower stomach.

Buck’s hips twitch forward, trying to get more than just the brush of Tommy’s fingertips against the base of his aching cock. Tommy just laughs, bright and amused, as he watches Buck squirm in desperation. Heat floods Buck’s cheeks, spreading through his chest before sinking down into his stomach. More precome drools from his angrily flushed dick.

Tagging @darrys-laundry @holdmygum @maygrantgf @honestlydarkprincess @devirnis

@princessfbi @mellaithwen @homerforsure @smallandalmosthonest @eddiebabygirldiaz

@shyaudacity @father-salmon @underwaterninja13 @giddyupbuck @lonelychicago

@monsterrae1 @bisexual-buck @epiphainie @firehose118 @eowon

@diazsdimples @newtkelly @theotherbuckley @iinryer @try-set-me-on-fire

@thequeenofcarvenstone @usersiren and anyone else who would like to post something!!!! (Apologies if you’ve already been tagged!)

[strandnreyes]

thanks @heartstringsduet @emsprovisions @futures-tense !!

this is from the sweet home alabama au aka you’re still the one

“Hey, you don’t happen to have Carlos’ address do you?”

Grace’s eyes flash up to him as she punches numbers into the register. TK feels two feet tall and transparent. After all, it’s not a secret what he and Carlos meant to each other. “Reyes? I do.”

TK half expects her to refuse to give it to him, but then she’s grabbing a pen and a sticky note. While she scribbles it down, TK’s eyes drift back to the repairmen ad. Carlos’ phone number is on there. TK could call him and ask him to meet somewhere instead of showing up at his house, but then Grace is passing over the small, yellow piece of paper and TK’s original plan is back on track.

He glances down at it and then freezes. It turns out TK didn’t need to ask. He knows this address. It used to be his. He doesn’t know why he never considered the fact that Carlos didn’t move after he left.

tagging @paperstorm @orchidscript @ironheartwriter @irispurpurea @tellmegoodbye @theghostofashton @reyesstrand @rmd-writes @emsprovisions @welcometololaland @alrightbuckaroo @freneticfloetry @henrygrass @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @chicgeekgirl89 @carlos-in-glasses @carlossreaders @carlos-tk @basilsunrise @bonheur-cafe @butchreyes + open tag

[nisbanisba]

Beezus meows sweetly at them, rubbing against Jonah’s legs while he giggles. Little faker has everyone believing she’s so innocent. 

“Do you need anything, baby?” TK asks, touching Carlos’s chin. Carlos closes his eyes. He’s so tired, but – 

“The bed’s all wet. Beezus knocked over my water. Onto me,” he grumbles. 

“Aw, sweet girl, are you thirsty? Here, baby, do you think you can get up for a second and I’ll change the sheets?”

Carlos thinks about it for a moment, or tries to. He can’t seem to hold a thought in his head for more than a second before it dissipates like wisps of smoke. 

“Or you can just sleep on my side? It seems dry.”

“...Huh?”

TK’s voice is a combination of distressed and amused. “You poor thing, you’re so out of it. Come on, I’m going to help you move to the other side. Shouldn’t be too hard, you end up half on my side every night anyway.”

“Cuddling,” Carlos mutters. 

“Sure, it’s definitely not because you’re a diagonal-sleeping bedhog. Here, here, budge over.”

Somehow, he finds himself on TK’s side of the bed, sprawled on his stomach, his unbruised cheek on TK’s pillow, with Beezus curled up on his thighs, purring to beat the band. “Good girl, are you taking care of Papa?” TK coos. 

“Beezus is a nice kitty, right TK?” asks Jonah. 

“She’s so nice,” TK agrees.

“She’s a terrorist,” says Carlos, but he doesn’t hate her warm, vibrating weight right now. 

Thanks @heartstringsduet for the tag! I tag @rmd-writes @thisbuildinghasfeelings @bonheur-cafe @liminalmemories21 @strandnreyes

@everlastingday

@reyesstrand @theghostofashton @ironheartwriter @emsprovisions

@carlos-in-glasses @lemonlyman-dotcom

@ladytessa74 @three-drink-amy @butchreyes @decafdino @never-blooms

@sugdenlovesdingle @freneticfloetry @eclectic-sassycoweyes @herefortarlos

@alrightbuckaroo @tellmegoodbye @chicgeekgirl89 @lightningboltreader @captain-gillian

@paperstorm

@nancys-braids @pimento-playing-hopscotch @goodways @literateowl @carlos-tk @welcometololaland @henrygrass @rangersoup @annoyingcloudearthquake

+ open tag!!