This poll is a celebration of fandom and fandom history; we're aware that there are certain issues with many of the listed pairings and sources, but they are a part of that history. Please do not take this as an endorsement, and refrain from harassment.
thanks @freneticfloetry @rmd-writes @nancygillianmvp and @carlos-in-glasses for tagging me in fic pride friday! unfortunately i don't really re read my own fics very often and i have a memory like a sieve so i immediately forget everything i've ever written...but i loved reading yours! instead, i offer you an inspiration weekend and an inspiration weekend return tag 💜
open tag since i haven't seen this going around yet
“Wait, so do you laugh at my jokes even when they’re not funny?”
Carlos laughs lightly as he pulls a carton of eggs from the fridge. TK ignores his heart and how it’s growing overly attached to the sight of Carlos making breakfast like it’s his own kitchen while the two of them chat like they’re best friends.
“I do think your jokes are funny because I lo— because we’re together,” he quickly corrects, turning from TK as he ducks down to get a frying pan. TK’s glad Carlos can’t see him right now because he feels a little stunned by the almost confession. It’s nothing TK hasn’t thought of himself time and time before and he’s starting to consider that he’s not alone in those feelings. “That’s my whole point,” Carlos continues, moving past his slip up as if nothing happened. That’s fine, TK can wait until he’s ready to say those words for real, but there’s a spring in his step as he practically skips to the fridge to grab the oat milk.
“Well, hey. I guess we don’t have to worry about the noise we made this morning.”
“The noise you made.”
TK scoffs. “TK. Baby. Oh, you feel so—”
Carlos’ hand clamps firmly over TK’s mouth and there’s a stressed look in his eye as he furtively looks towards the stairs. “We don’t need a highlight reel.”
thanks for the tags @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @carlos-tk and @strandnreyes!
Nancy was zoning out, counting the gauze pads, a part of her usual duties of taking inventory of the supplies on the rig. TK was ranting about something that Carlos did, shaking his head and talking with his hands. Usually she loved to listen to TK’s spats he had with Carlos, they were usually funny and such little things, but after last night she wasn’t really in the mood.
“Are you even listening to me?” TK asked.
Nancy snapped out of her trance, “Um, what were you saying?”
He rolled his eyes, “See! You weren’t listening to me. Carlos took all of the blankets last night! I was freezing.”
Nancy groaned internally, “Well did you try taking them back? Or waking him up and telling him?”
“Well… No.” TK actually looked at Nancy this time, realizing the hurt in her eyes. His tone adjusted to a soft and concerned tone, “What’s wrong, Nancy?”
“I really don’t want to talk about it at work.”
TK reached out and rubbed her shoulder, “Come over for dinner after work tonight, so we can talk? Carlos is working, it’ll just be us. We can order pizza.” TK offered a warm smile.
no pressure tagging: @zitasempri @lemonlyman-dotcom @reyesstrand @nancygillianmvp
thanks to @carlos-in-glasses @welcometololaland @janto4ev @liminalmemories21 @sznofthesticks for various other tags this weekend - i’m going to use those to tag you all back and kick us off for seven sentence sunday
He finally gives him a reprieve and lets his lips meet the solid expanse of Carlos’ newly exposed chest. Marking him up in ways Carlos knows he’ll be seeing and feeling for at least the next week.
TK’s hands have already made light work of undoing half the buttons on his previously crisp business shirt, and Carlos swears he’s determined to make sure it’s unsalvageable after tonight.
“Off,” TK demands a half second later, interrupting his thoughts and pushing Carlos’ arms up, pulling it the rest of the way over his head, and tossing it to the concrete floor beside them.
“This too,” he mumbles against Carlos’ lips, unfastening his belt with one hand and dragging it out of the loops of his dress pants with some well practised finesse.
He moves onto the offending pants next, fumbling the button open and the zipper down, shoving his boxers down with them and finally getting a hand on Carlos’ aching c*ck.
“Fuck!” he gasps at the needed relief and the touch of TK’s nimble fingers on him.
“TK–god–baby I won’t last long if you keep that pace up,” he forewarns in the hope he’ll slow his ministrations.
TK simply hums where his lips are pressed against his jaw and instead increases the speed of his strokes, slick and rough and punishing.
“Well that’s kind of the point baby,” he teases and pulls away with a smug grin and pointed look.
He appeases him though, pulling his hand off and lets his fingers trace Carlos’ abdomen, a series of teasing touches until he’s instead pinching his nipple sharply between his thumb and forefinger.
Carlos hisses, and his c*ck pathetically twitches and dribbles even more pre-come.