#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!

[heartstringsduet]

Happy Sunday everyone <3 Enjoy these seven paragraphs from one of the upcoming snippets dedicated to TK in my fic Changed For Good. Thanks for tagging me @henrygrass @ironheartwriter @carlos-in-glasses @emsprovisions @strandnreyes @carlossreaders @nancys-braids

“Carlos’ husband is turning thirty,” Andrea says and turns around from whisking more buttercream. “I wanted to surprise him with a cake, but it can be nothing short of perfect, which is why you’re here as my guinea pigs.”

“Thirty," Mirella sighs. "God, remember being thirty?”

Edgar chimes in as he enters the kitchen. “TK, right? The handsome fella that you sent over to look at my arm when I fell off the ladder?”

“The paramedic?” Vivien asks, right behind her husband. “Is that the coma son-in-law?”

“Yes, yes!” says Mirella. “Andrea’s favorite son-in-law.”

Andrea tuts and shakes her head, filled with sugar and delight. “No, I love all of my son-in-laws equally. A mother doesn’t pick favorites.”

A mother absolutely picks favorites, Andrea thinks as she glances over into the mess she left behind in the kitchen and the rest of the first trial cake still to be eaten.

OPEN TAG &

@paperstorm @bonheur-cafe @lemonlyman-dotcom @reyesstrand

@welcometololaland @rmd-writes @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@alrightbuckaroo @freneticfloetry @never-blooms

@louis-ii-reyes-strand @chicgeekgirl89 @liminalmemories21

@theghostofashton @lightningboltreader @pimento-playing-hopscotch

@orchidscript @decafdino @certifiedflower @corsage

@ladytessa74 @butchreyes @goodways @ameriicansrequiems

@everlastingday @nisbanisba @sapphic--kiwi @pameluke

[strandnreyes]

thanks @heartstringsduet @orchidscript !! and to everyone who has tagged me this past week! something extra long to make up for the missed days

���Detective Reyes reads romance novels?” he teases, already having way too much fun with this.

Carlos’ lips part slightly and they flounder like a fish out of water before he turns slightly rosy. “Shut up. I don’t want to read a thriller. I solve enough of my own cases, I don't need to solve fictional ones too.”

TK gasps and holds a hand to his chest. “Detective Reyes not wanting to think about work?”

Carlos takes a step forward and TK holds the book protectively to his chest. “Okay, stop,” he mutters quickly.

“You know how to have fun?” he continues, and Carlos lunges for him as TK pops up.

“Give me that back.”

“No! I’m reading it now!” TK calls out as he jogs around to the opposite side of the armchair as a barrier between the two of them. With a bit of space, he feels safe enough to glance at the pages again. “Jeremy is just about to make a move.”

Carlos grows more embarrassed as TK grows more delighted. “Stop it,” he pleads.

When TK glances at the next chapter, he sees a word that really makes him let out a giddy giggle. A month ago, he would’ve never believed that this is what Carlos does on nights off. Now, TK might actually be in love with him.

“Is this porny?” he accuses, faking a gasp like a scandalized church goer.

Carlos looks like he’s ready to hurdle the chair as he grows more jumpy. “TK, give me my book.”

TK laughs. “It totally is!”

Carlos darts for him again, and TK runs around the opposite side of the chair. But Carlos is too quick, he fakes right but actually goes left, a move that allows him to catch TK by the waist and take him to the floor. He laughs the entire time his back hits the hardwood because despite their mock wrestling, Carlos is still gentle with him.

tagging @alrightbuckaroo @basilsunrise @bonheur-cafe @butchreyes @chicgeekgirl89 @carlos-tk @carlos-in-glasses @freneticfloetry @ironheartwriter @emsprovisions @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @nancys-braids @mikibwrites @irispurpurea @paperstorm @reyesstrand @tellmegoodbye @theghostofashton @rmd-writes @welcometololaland + 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!

[wikiangela]

several sentence sunday

tagged by @hippolotamus

sooo bucktommy won me over, i couldn't resist anymore 🙈 so here's a bit of them after their date lol (also, I didn't get the Tommy hype before but after seeing him everywhere for two days... I get it now 🥵)

___

"(...) We should do this again.” Tommy says, turning fully towards Buck, and Buck’s eyes immediately find his lips. He can’t wait to kiss him again, and this would be the time, at the end of the date, wouldn’t it?

“We should.” Buck nods, licks his lips, eyes darting up to Tommy’s eyes. He’s smiling softly, just looking at Buck. “I-” he starts, and then thinks, fuck it, and this time he makes a move, as he leans across the console to grab Tommy’s chin, like he did Buck’s in his kitchen, and bring him in for a kiss. Tommy immediately reciprocates, and Buck melts against him, and then when Tommy’s calloused hand covers his cheek, it just feels so- so different, in the best way possible. This kiss lasts longer than the first one, each of them constantly coming back for more, but it’s as gentle and tender as that one. Buck loves it, and can’t help smiling into it. He wants more. “Hey.” Buck says, finally pulling away, licks his spit-covered lips nervously. “Do you- do you maybe wanna come in for a beer?” he asks shyly, and at Tommy’s surprised expression and raised eyebrow he realizes it might sound like he’s inviting him for more than a beer, and he panics again. “I- I- I mean, just a beer. And maybe- maybe more of this.” he pecks Tommy’s lips again, not able to resist a smile. “But just a beer. I don’t think I’m- But who knows, maybe-” he stumbles over his words, because the truth is, he wants Tommy, he wants… he wants so much, he wants to experience so much for the first time – it’s just that he’s not sure if it’s not too quick for this relationship, and for him.

“Evan.” Tommy interrupts, bringing his other hand up, now cradling Buck’s face in both, thumbs moving soothingly along Buck’s cheeks. “Your pace, remember? No pressure, no rush.”

“You’re really cool, you know that?” Buck whispers.

“So I keep hearing.” Tommy chuckles, and it’s adorable. He kisses Buck again, and the butterflies in Buck’s stomach go crazy. Fuck, he doesn't remember the last time he felt this giddy and excited and just light. “I’d love to come in for a beer.”

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @bidisasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @tizniz @your-catfish-friend

[chicgeekgirl89]

Thanks to @ironheartwriter, @heartstringsduet, @henrygrass, @welcometololaland,

@nisbanisba, @paperstorm, @carlossreaders,

@carlos-in-glasses, and @lemonlyman-dotcom for the tags!

Here's a little something that I can't say much about yet. It's more than seven sentences lol:

“Are you moving around all the ornaments I put on the tree?” “Well…just…a little,” Carlos says, hastily retrieving the red and green striped Christmas ball and checking for damage. T.K. crosses his arms and frowns. “Why are you doing that?” “Oh I…um…there’s just a few that you know, I thought would look better in different places.” “You think I did a bad job decorating the tree?” “Not a bad job!” Carlos says quickly. “I have certain ornaments I like in certain spots so—“ “Certain ornaments, Carlos half the tree is different!” “It’s just an aesthetic thing—“ “I cannot believe you!” T.K. cries. “You waited until I was asleep and snuck out here in the dead of night to change around our entire tree! Did you think I wouldn’t notice in the morning?” Carlos carefully puts the bauble into the exact place he wants it. “No.” Something hot and furious tears through T.K.’s holiday spirit like a toddler ripping open wrapping paper on Christmas morning. He points a finger at Carlos. “We,” he says, his voice low and full of wrath, “are in a fight. I’m telling Santa. And you’re going to get coal for Christmas.”

Tagging @ladytessa74, @emsprovisions, @bonheur-cafe, and anyone else who would like to share!

[elvensorceress]

sunday snippet

I meant to have this fic done ages ago but it's now somehow three times as long as it was, I've rewritten it five times, and I'm still working on it 🫠 oh well. have a snippet from snickerdoodles.

@tizniz @hippolotamus @eddiebabygirldiaz @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @spotsandsocks @kejfeblintz @smilingbuckley @sofa-king-lame @chaosandwolves @smilingbuckley @belasmalhotra @bekkachaos @blutterlie @sazanahashi @livinginsunnyhell @epicbuddieficrecs @sparklespiff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @dangerpronebuddie continued from Wednesday

Eddie tries again, but still sounds rough and hollowed out. “I don’t want to drag you down. Okay? You should move on and forget me and— and it’ll be better.”

Not so much for Eddie. He’s never let go of anything in his life. It’s all there hiding under the surface, stuffed in cages. But Buck should move on. Buck should survive him. 

Is this their only future? It feels like losing everything. Eddie is losing everything. He’s kidding himself if he thinks he hasn’t already lost Chris. What if Eddie doesn’t survive this time? What will happen to everyone he loves? Everyone who loves him?

Does anyone love him? Does he mean anything to anyone? Has he ever meant anything?

“Forget— I should forget you?” Buck snaps, his anger un-contained fire now, not just a hint of smoldering kindling. Vicious, spitting, sparking, living flames that will turn everything to ashes. 

Maybe they should actually fight and say awful things and then it would be easier to walk away. 

Eddie’s not sure he could even manage that right now. There’s nothing left in him. No fight, no fire. It’s all shattered, scattered pieces. But he would try. If Buck needs that. 

He might need that. He snaps again, “Like you’re a pair of socks that disappeared in the laundry? Or something I meant to pick up at the store and spaced? Like it’s easy? Like you’re nothing? Like this? Us? You and me? Means nothing?”

Okay, when he puts it that way… it sounds dumb. But how else can Eddie stop hurting him? “No,” Eddie says. Not fiery, not loud, not anything. “No. Just. Something that doesn’t—”

“You're my best friend. You— you’re— I’ll let you go. Okay. Whatever. I’ll do that because I know you and I know you need Chris and I get it. I wouldn’t want you to do anything but love him exactly the way you do. But I won’t, will not and can not pretend that you aren’t my best friend and my partner and the person I love more than anything. All right? I’m not going to do that. I’ve spend years—literal— almost a whole decade of years loving you more than anything. I’m not going to just forget that or forget you. I’m not throwing that way. I’m not ever going to lie and say otherwise. This is not a ‘move on and grow out of it’ scenario. I love you more than anything in the world. Okay? You told me I wasn’t expendable and I had to deal with that so you have to deal with this. You mean everything to me and I love you, and that isn’t going to change even when you leave.”

“—hurt you,” Eddie finishes. It doesn’t really sound finished now. He says it because he was already saying it. 

But that the fuck does he say now? 

Eddie doesn’t usually think of himself as small, quiet, or fragile. But he feels like that now. His feeble words sound like it even in his own ears. Small. Inconsequential. Torn apart.

Buck steps back toward him. Not enough that they’re touching, but enough that they’re closer. “Hurt me. Drag me down. I don’t care.”

Eddie recoils. No. No, he hates that idea. He is not doing that. Not intentionally. Not. What the fuck. 

He knows he said the words. He said them because his mother said them and they stuck and haven’t left his head or his heart and it’s all he does. Ruin people he loves. 

Buck shakes his head. “Be in the way. Burden me. Share whatever weight you’re carrying. Be something that stays even if you’re not here. Be part of my life even if it hurts. I don’t care if it hurts, I need you to be something to me. Having nothing of you would be a hundred, thousand, million times worse. I am in this with you. I always have been. Don’t shut me out just to spare me. If you’re facing the fire, I want to be right there with you. Please don’t make me lose everything of you. Please don’t— please. Don’t pretend this is nothing. I can take you leaving, I can’t take this,” he motions between them, “meaning nothing.”

Eddie stares and doesn’t move. And stares harder like it will help him understand. 

He knows he’s breathing still because there’s air. 

Maybe he’s not breathing. But something is making air flow in and out of his body. Like rescue breaths? Supplemental oxygen? It’s not Eddie doing it, he’s not taking in air, but it happens anyway. 

He doesn’t understand. Maybe he never has. Maybe his brain stopped processing information when he stopped breathing because the brain can’t function without oxygen. Something like that. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t. 

Buck wants something of him even after everything? After all the people who have walked out on him and treated him like he doesn’t matter? Even with how Eddie fails and hurts people who care about him? He means something to Buck? Even though he’s hurting him and abandoning him and losing him? Eddie’s just another person who leaves him. He can’t hurt Buck. He can’t keep doing it. Buck doesn’t deserve this. And Eddie deserves no loyalty, no forgiveness. 

He doesn’t deserve anyone’s love. Not in any form. He shouldn’t have it. He’s never had it. 

“I don’t—” Eddie tries to say. He has to say. He has to make the words come out. “I don’t want to hurt you the way Abby hurt you. I don’t want to do that.” 

Buck shakes his head again and starts to say something.

Eddie beats him to it. “I know it’s not the same. I know I’m not— I know you don’t— It’s different. Still. I know how she hurt you, and I don’t want to do that. I don’t know how to not do that. I’m leaving you here. In my house. Just like she did when she left you. And I have to—” Do the same fucking thing? Give him up? Walk away? Destroy everything they made together? And maybe the only way to survive is to do what Eddie does best and ruin everything? 

He looks back at Buck and doesn’t mean to say it. He wasn’t going to say anything. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter. He should be mean and nasty and he should tell Buck he means nothing, this means nothing, and then Buck can just be justifiably angry and hate Eddie properly. 

And it would spare him. Whatever pain and tragedy that is associated with being near Eddie. It would spare Buck. 

That’s what he should do. 

That would be mercy and kindness. Pick up the weapon and blow this all to hell. 

Eddie can’t breathe. He can’t do this. Any of it. 

He can’t let go. He can’t lose Buck. 

And then he’s suddenly confessing, “I don’t want to do this."

It’s too late. It’s always too late. And what he actually wants has never mattered. He doesn’t matter. He never has. He twists his hands together and has nothing else to hold onto. It’s too late, so none of this matters. Eddie doesn’t matter. But he meets Buck’s lost gaze, stares into his eyes for three seconds, and he can’t keep it in.

“I want to be with Chris. I miss him so much. Every minute of every day. But I don't want to leave here. I don't want this. But it doesn't matter what I want. It never has. The one time I said, 'What about me? Why didn't you think of me?' Chris left. He left because I hurt him. And my dad says, ‘don’t wait thirty years to listen to your son.’ So I listen. I don’t know what the hell else to do. I listen, and I do what all of them ask. Even when it’s the last thing I want and I’ve already said, no, please stop, I need more time, please hear me. They don’t listen to me. I’m still nothing to every single one of them. And I just keep thinking why don’t I ever count? Why don’t I matter even a little bit?

"You think you aren't everything to me, too? Do you think that I don't love you just as much as you love me? But I don’t get to pick you. I don’t get to have anything of you. I hurt everyone I try to love including you and Chris. I’m not enough for anyone, in any way. I can’t love anyone the way they need or the way I’m supposed to. You say you’re defective parts, well I’m fucking broken.

"That’s why you should forget me. I don’t matter. You shouldn’t care. I should mean nothing because I am nothing. I’m not worth this. If I were a better, stronger person, I’d make you hate me. But I can’t even do that. I don’t want to hurt you more. I have to lose you and I don’t know how to lose you. I love you more than anything and it’s not enough. I don’t know what else to do but say, you should move on and forget me.”

Eddie turns away and covers his face, tries to hold his head because it’s aching. It’s too much. That was too much. He’s not supposed to be falling apart. Everything is supposed to be getting better. 

Shards of ice crack and fracture and break underneath him. Everything in the cage around his ribs snaps and he’s crying into his hands, trying to keep it together. Trying and failing. Always failing. His face is already wet. He was already broken. A long time ago. So many times. 

Buck is suddenly behind him. Not distant. Close behind him. He touches Eddie’s back gently and then steps around until he’s standing in front of him. He reaches between them and rests his hand on Eddie’s chest. As if he can stop the never-ending bleeding that’s somehow always pouring from Eddie’s heart. “You are enough, Eddie. You’re more than enough."

[screamlet]

seven sentence... day

ty for the tag @iphyslitterator! from a brand new single dad tommy fic (this is way pre-harbor, when he's about 26/27). (very) eventual bucktommy.

---

Tommy's jaw is so tight he thinks he'll have to sledgehammer it open to talk. Honestly, a sledgehammer to the face would solve so many of his problems, but Catie didn't include a sledgehammer when she made this cute two-bedroom apartment theirs.

"I need to—we need to talk," Tommy says after dinner.

"Oh," Catie says. "Yeah. Sounds serious." She nods. "We should talk."

And Tommy sits them down on the couch, holds her hands, and takes a deep breath. He looks into her eyes and says: "Catie, I'm gay. I'm so sorry."

Her hands are limp in his, not even a flinch. They just get colder. She stares at him, in shock but… maybe not as much as he imagined. It should make him feel great (it does not).

"Tommy, I'm pregnant," she says.

Neither of them make a move.

[henrygrass]

A CERTAIN AMOUNT OF SENTENCES SUNDAY

This is a project I've been considering since we never got to see Mrs. Campbell and TK interact. What if the two families were forced to live together in a safe house for some time while Carlos and Sam fought the bad guys? It’s still in the early stages but here’s a snippet:

Thank you for the tags @ironheartwriter @nisbanisba @heartstringsduet

“Daddy?” The word makes TK grin behind his cup of coffee; it’s still new to him, and his heart flutters each time. 

He turns to Jonah, who is perched on a chair at the kitchen table, crumbs of peanut butter toast still clinging to the corners of his mouth.

“Yes, buddy?” TK replies, glancing toward the hallway as he hears Ashley knocking on her children’s doors.

“Can I play on the Switch?” Jonah asks, flashing his signature ‘Jonah’s cow eyes’—the look he learned from Carlos—and, just like his papá’s, Jonah’s expression wrecks him, maybe even more.

TK hums thoughtfully. It’s a school day, and Jonah would normally be in class in about an hour, but starting today, it falls to TK to teach him, even if it’s just the first day in the safe house.

“One hour. Then we have to study, okay?”

Jonah echoes TK’s hum, as if considering the proposal for a moment, his little face scrunching up in thought. Then his eyes light up, and he nods, leaping off the chair like a rocket.

He dashes toward their shared room, but not before slamming straight into Ashley’s legs, nearly toppling her over as she emerges from the hallway.

“Oh, Jonah, don’t run in the house. You could hurt yourself,” Ashley admonishes gently, a smile dancing on her lips.

Jonah resumes his run toward their room, now moving at a cautious pace. “Sorry, Mrs. Soup,” he apologizes, making TK snort into his cup.

As he wipes the spilled coffee, Ashley walks closer to him, tilting her head and crossing her arms. “Mrs. Soup?” she repeats, raising an unamused eyebrow.

Open Tag &

@emsprovisions @alrightbuckaroo @welcometololaland

@thisbuildinghasfeelings @lemonlyman-dotcom @decafdino @reyesstrand

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

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

@ladytessa74 @paperstorm @chicgeekgirl89 @everlastingday

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

[intrepidacious]

for special sss: bucky + "you look good like this" ??

like the ones i used to know | b.b.

a/n: me? obsessed with the symbolism of bucky's hair? what makes you say that

"Funny," Bucky huffed, dragging his hand through his hair, gritting his teeth as the short strands bristled against his palm; it’d been a stupid decision to cut it off himself, but he hadn’t been able to sleep.

Sam had fixed the worst of it, thankfully, but he still felt oddly exposed without something covering his ears, the too sharp cut of his jaw, the pale scars along his temples. It was the first time in decades he didn’t have to look into the mirror and see a stranger, and he found he wasn’t used to it anymore.

"No, really," you said, still staring at him like he was a different person now, and, geez, Bucky wished it were that easy, "May I?"

He lowered his head so you could brush your fingers through the hair at the crown of his head, gently, curiously, and he had to force himself not to reach out for you and pull you closer because who on earth did he think he was; the Bucky that might have deserved you once was long gone, no matter how much he wanted to pretend there was still a chance to be him again.

You hummed, an appreciative sound that made him blink at you in surprise; there was a soft smile on your face that made his heart flutter traitorously, and you gently tousled his hair once again before stepping back with a chuckle.

"I like it," you decided, turning away before you added, "but I’m buying you a hat before you catch a cold," and it was a very good thing that you did because that was exactly when Bucky realized he was in love with you.

[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!)

[heartstringsduet]

Can you believe it's the Sunday before Christmas? Will I freak out even more NEXT Sunday, when it's the last one of the year? YES. Anyway, have some more of the wolf fic in winter wonderland. Happy holidays!🌙☃️

Life’s a series of learning. Today, TK learns that Carlos’ skin looks infinitely warmer against a sheet of bright white snow. 

He’s quick to undress, but there is no hesitation in discarding his shirt, his shoes his pants. He hands them TK neatly folded, despite goosebumps running up his entire body and his breath growing white in the air of the forest. 

“You know what would be really funny?” TK asks, when the pile of clothes grows and his eyes feast on more and more bare skin, lingering on tan hard nipples.

Carlos quirks an eyebrow. “Don’t say for people to come by.”

“Oh come on, it’s be a little funny to see you undress in the middle of the woods in winter, while I just stood by watching, bundled up and warm.”

“Pretty sure they’d call the police for public indecency.”

“Or for being worried for your mental health.”

Carlos shakes his head with a smile as he drops his underwear and hands it to him. He’s always had this air of confidence about him that TK has felt attracted to, and even with purpling lips, shivers over his body and his cock shrinking in the cold, he looks perfectly assured.

TK opens his puffer jacket, and steps in against him, drawing the sides around Carlos as much as he can. It's all it takes to have Carlos melting against him, seeking out his warmth as he runs his palms up TK’s back and hides his face in his neck. OPEN TAG

@paperstorm @carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@lightningboltreader @lemonlyman-dotcom @ladytessa74 @sapphic--kiwi

@emsprovisions @tellmegoodbye @liminalmemories21 @pameluke

@certifiedflower @firstprince-history-huh @welcometololaland @rmd-writes

@freneticfloetry @never-blooms @strandnreyes @reyesstrand

@corsage @nisbanisba @everlastingday @carlossreaders

@irispurpurea @chicgeekgirl89 @butchreyes @decafdino

@theghostofashton @bonheur-cafe @orchidscript @pimento-playing-hopscotch

[strandnreyes]

thanks @heartstringsduet @carlos-in-glasses @nisbanisba !!

“TK?”

All six of their gazes snap over to Jonah, standing at the end of the hallway like he doesn’t want to interrupt the adults in the living room. He has matching rocketship pajamas on and looks so small as he shifts on his feet.

“Hey, bud. Are we being too loud?” TK asks. Upon closer look, his eyes are wide and shiny and his bottom lip begins to quiver. TK shoots off the couch instantly, crouching down in front of Jonah before pulling him into a hug. “Hey. Hey, what’s going on?”

Jonah doesn’t answer and he shyly looks at the rest of them, causing them to avert their gazes. TK seems to pick up on his brother’s hesitation because he hoists Jonah into his arms.

“Okay. C’mon,” he murmurs quietly, and then the duo disappears out of sight while Carlos remains in the living room. With the rest of their friends. Because that’s all he is.

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