reluctantwerewolfbuckley

[reluctantwerewolfbuckley]

Some scary Hangster/Dagger Squad vibes in honor of it being September (pre-spooky season! Woo! 👻)

Someone (or someTHING) is targeting Navy personnel on base. Rumors of a serial killer are on the rise, despite NCIS trying to keep the incidences hush-hush to not cause panic. But local news channels are saying that the bodies of four men have been found discarded on base, tortured for days before being killed in the same gruesome way. Photos are leaked and people do panic then, because the faces of the unfortunate victims are frozen in unadulterated terror, like they looked into the eyes of the devil himself before meeting their end.

The Dagger Squad and the 86 flyboys panic for a different reason: the killer obviously has a type. All the dead men look eerily similar to each other - Caucasian males, 30s, blond hair.

Naturally they circle the wagons around an unamused, dismissive Lt. Jake Seresin. It’s just a coincidence. He’s a proud Texan, he’s highly trained, he’s tough as nails, he’s untouchable. He does NOT need to be babysat and escorted to the restroom, thank you VERY freaking much.

No one listens to him, of course, and he finds himself boxed-in by a protective group of Daggers everywhere he goes. The Admirals go nuts as overprotective uncles of one of Mav’s kids, breaking whatever Naval rules that get in their way of keeping Seresin off the radar and out of sight.

Mav and Ice instantly “adopt” Jake, and Ice uses every bit of COMPACFLT authority to frog-march a reluctant Jake to their own home to keep eyes on him at all times.

Rooster, of course, has his feathers ruffled and his spurs out in full force the second he sees photos of the victims on the news, and Jake suddenly finds himself with a 24-hour bodyguard. Which is weird because, sure they had a “thing” back in the day, but Rooster literally just started not hating him after The Mission. But suddenly Bradley Bradshaw is not only invading every minute of his days, but he’s sleeping on the floor of the guest bedroom in his godfathers’ house because “somebody could climb through the window, JAke!” - “I’m on the second floor, BrADLEY.” But it doesn’t matter. At least two Daggers and the occasional Admiral are inhabiting Mav’s home at all times. Whatever is offing blond pretty-boys on base will have to go through them to get to their resident blond pretty-boy jackass.

But after a week of this nonstop nonsense - even after the fifth body is found: blond, terrified, mutilated - Jake uses his “wild problem child raised in a strict conservative Christian household” skills to slip out of a window one evening. Just to go to the Hard Deck for a while. He hasn’t been able to BREATHE without Rooster questioning his every move and the rest of them just WATCHING him at all times. He’s felt suffocated, trapped, and he hates it. He only likes attention on HIS terms, and dammit he doesn’t need an entire battalion to keep him safe. He’ll go to the bar for a while, maybe sweet-talk Penny into waiting at least an hour before she discreetly calls Mav to send in the security detail (his squadron). Ice, Rooster and Coyote were probably already nailing all the windows shut because of his rebellious teenager escape.

And maybe the pride in him wants to prove to his friends, to himself, to everyone, that he’s not called the Hangman for nothin’. That he’s perfectly capable of keeping himself safe.

He doesn’t anticipate the sudden drop in temperature around him - the sun went down during his walk to the bar, but just a second ago it was a balmy Southern California summer evening, and now he’s shivering, his teeth chattering, he can see his breath fogging. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand on end, and suddenly he knows what a rabbit feels like in the presence of a wolf - hopeless, helpless, alone, petrified. Too fucking small. He doesn’t know what’s out there, can’t see it, but he knows, he KNOWS, eyes are on him. He’s being watched. He’s being stalked. For the first time in his life, he knows he is prey. He is in the presence of evil - the evil his daddy talked about during Sunday sermons. The vague, incorporeal idea of evil he didn’t really believe in until this very moment, when it inexplicably became something tangible that he can feel squeezing his heart, his lungs. Something horrifically real.

He whips around, eyes wide and darting, sees nothing. Not just nothing, but an emptiness, the world around him unsaturated, dreamlike. Fear grips his body then, and he can’t breathe.

He’s frozen, legs like jelly as he tries to run down the empty sidewalk, but all he can do is stagger like a drunkard trapped in tar. He flies fighter jets, he’s been in constant danger so many times it never really fazes him anymore. He seeks out the thrill of terror, never runs from it, but he’s trying so desperately to run now. Begging his legs to find the strength, the speed he prides himself of meticulously cultivating, but something visceral’s got ahold of him and his heart is about to explode out of his ribs. He understands the expression “scared to death” now, because he’s literally about to have a heart attack trying to escape something he can’t even see.

A strong hand grips his shoulder and Jake lets out a scream that feels like its tearing his throat to pieces - the sound a rabbit makes as the wolf’s jaws snap around it’s small, fragile body - and he knows he’s done for. He falls to the ground and waits for death.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Jake-oh shit!”

It’s Rooster, and his voice in Jake’s ears sounds almost as scared as Jake feels, and Jake almost weeps as the terror immediately seeps from his body and leaves him exhausted and limp on the clumpy grass of some stranger’s front lawn. Rooster is here. Standing above him, legs bracketing Jake’s downed body and posed for a fight like an angry lion protecting a wounded mate. Thank God. Rooster will keep him safe.

He hears Coyote’s Jeep skid to a stop on the road beside them and a gang of Daggers fall out, and he’s being bombarded with flashlight beams and angry, relieved voices.

“Jeezus, he’s white as a sheet, get him up-”

“-Is he in shock?-“

“-Where the hell were you going, asshole?”

“-Did you really think we wouldn’t come after you, you idiot?”

“Bob, call Mav and tell them to call off the search.”

“Jake, are you okay? We saw you fall-“

“-sit him up front and get some AC on him-”

“-no don’t, feel his skin he’s fucking freezing-“

Jake hadn’t really focused on anything until suddenly there’s warm, concerned brown eyes directly in his vision and big, strong hands came up to frame his chilled face. He’s suddenly aware that he’s sitting sideways in Javy’s Jeep, and Bradley fucking Bradshaw is kneeling by the open door, the others crowding close watching him, always watching him. “Jake, look at me,” Bradley’s raspy voice cut through the remnants of terror in Jake’s mind. “Take a deep breath, honey, try to calm down. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Jake feels his own cold hands come up to bracket Bradley’s warm ones without his consent, and he leans closer instinctually. He’s always so damn warm.

“Jake?” That was Coyote, behind him in the driver seat, his big hands rubbing more warmth into his back. “What happened? Was someone after you? Did you see something?”

Jake shook his head in Bradley’s grip. Tears welled in his eyes. He’d never been so scared in all his life, but of what he couldn’t understand. He swallowed, again, trying to thaw his frozen throat. He looked into the warm depths of those whiskey brown eyes in front of him and finally drew in a pained lungful of air.

“I…I…oh, God-“ that couldn’t be his voice, that voice belonged to a scared little boy, not a decorated Naval aviator. Eventually it’ll piss him off, make him angry at himself for being such a wuss, but right now he’s just trying not to throw up. “…it’s real, Bradley. It’s real-“ he gripped tight those hands in his, and begged, pleaded, “-I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me. Please take me home-t-to Mav. I’m sorry…please…it’s real…”

Bradley shook his head, his fingers running through damp blond hair. His brows furrowed when he felt…it couldn’t be. It’s summer, how could there be frost in Jake’s hair?

“What’s real, sweetheart?” Bradley’s jaw tightened dangerously when two fat tears escaped the wild, haunted green eyes he still (not so) secretly loves so much.

“…I…I don’t know.”

[reluctantwerewolfbuckley]

AO3 Tags Meme

Thank you for the tag @nine-one-wanton

Rules: Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

I suppose it’s true 🤣

🏷️: @rdng1230 @thecarrott @bangpop91 @kinardsevan @fuselsstuff @cliophilyra @pumpkinevann

[reluctantwerewolfbuckley]

7x03 missing scene:

Someone has to go back to Harbor to retrieve the captain‘s truck Buck, Eddie and Chimney took to reach Harbor before Hen, and Buck finds himself volunteering without a second thought, adrenaline still pumping as he jumps back into the helicopter. They‘re almost at the port, so they‘ll only be in the air for a few minutes. It‘s daylight now too, the last of yesterday’s showers cleared up, and his attention is caught by the view outside the curved window of the helicopter as the boat falls away beneath them, the coastline appearing.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Tommy says next to him once they’ve touched down on the tarmac in between the hangars at Harbor. “You can jump out now, I’ll get everything powered down here.”

“Uh-huh, yeah, thanks,” Buck answers, taking off his headseat, his mind still buzzing with a million questions he wants to ask, with the noise of the helicopter rotor. His stomach lurches as he jumps out of the helicopter, sturdy ground for the first time in hours beneath his feet. “Listen-“ he doesn’t even know what he wants to ask as he turns back towards Tommy, but—

“Buckley!” “Hey, Evan!” He turns towards the voices, seeing Lucy Donato and — wow, is that Evan Leary? — making their way towards him across the tarmac.

“Of course it would be you guys abducting one of ours to fly into a hurricane,” Donato says, shaking her head. “Every natural disaster on land not enough for you?” She shakes his hand.

“Good to see you, man,” Leary says, clasping his shoulder.

“Mister Popular, I see?” Tommy asks as he comes up behind him, one eyebrow cocked.

“He was my rope partner back when I did the stint with the 118?” Lucy explains.

“And there were three of us Evanses at the academy,” Leary says. “Man, I still can’t believe you went with Buck Buckley.” Next to him Tommy snorts, chuckling to himself before someone waves at them from the hangar and Tommy starts heading that way to debrief.

“Hey,” Buck replies, face flushing. “You were the lucky one who didn’t have to come up with a nickname on the spot.” They catch up for a moment, and then Donato is called away first. “I’m just gonna go grab the truck and then I’ll be out of here,” Buck says, looking around. “Uhm, do you know where Tommy went? I want to go say bye and thank him again.”

Leary nods in the direction of one of the hangars. “Either the coffee machine or the lockers. That way.”

There’s no one around the kitchenette and unlike the 118 the lockerrooms at Harbor are hidden behind a solid wall from the same metal the rest of the building is made up of. Buck knocks, then sticks his head inside. “Tommy?”

“Yeah, in here,” comes his voice calling back.

“Hey, listen, I just wanted to say thanks, again, before heading out, you really went all out for us,” Buck rambles as he walks into the room, around the rows of lockers from which he’d heard Tommy’s voice, “and I just wanted to ask for—“

Tommy turns around from where he’s been rifling through his locker. His blue flight suit is unzipped to the waist, sleeves dangling towards the floor. The grey LAFD shirt he’d been wearing underneath has been tossed onto bench beneath the lockers, the light fabric dark with sweat.

“… for?” There’s an amused lilt to the word and Tommy’s lips are curved into the hint of a smile as Buck finally snaps his eyes up from that massive chest and arms Tommy’s been hiding under the wide cut of the flight suit.

“Your workout routine must be insane.”

That gets him another amused snort and a headshake as Tommy turns to the locker, picks up a tank top and pulls it on.

“Seriously, how much do you bench?” Buck insists, even as he feels his face start to heat up again at his rambling. “Uh, sorry. You’re obviously ready to go home, you must be exhausted.”

“I think we all are, kid,” Tommy replies easily. He falls silent for a moment, quirking his head to the side as he looks at Buck. “I could… give you my number though? If you’re interested?” he suggests.

“Y-yeah, that would be great,” Buck replies quickly, fumbling his phone out of the pocket of his turnouts. “Thanks.” Buck steps closer as they exchange numbers, making sure they both got it right. “Thanks. Uh, thanks again for everything last night. You were great.”

“You’re welcome, Evan. All of you,” Tommy insists, looking almost shy for the first time all day. They linger in that moment, allowing it to stretch, until Tommy looks away, hands going to the zipper of his flight suit. “Uh, I’m gonna finish getting changed and-“

“Oh, yes, yeah, of course. I’ll get out of here, uhm, get the truck back to the 118, traffic will be so annoying now,” Buck rambles, taking a couple steps back. “Thanks again!”

“You got it, kid,” Tommy replies. “And text me, ok?” He makes finger guns as he says the last bit, making Buck grin in return.

[reluctantwerewolfbuckley]

Ready For It

Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: When you weren't ready for a baby, you and Jake broke up. But now, months later, you are ready, and Jake is pissed.

Notes/Warnings: implied smut, baby talk, cursing.

Words: 2770

Jake Seresin Masterlist / Main Masterlist

You aren’t trying to be that kind of person, the kind who throws words out into the wind to elicit shock from those with nearby ears. But alcohol has a way of twisting your brain into forgetting to keep your mouth shut when a shut mouth is best. And that’s precisely why their brows are raised and their eyes are bugged out and their beer bottles are frozen mid-air on their way to their lips. 

Nat is the first to break out of the trance. She blinks and sets her bottle back down on the high-top table, shakes her head as if to clear the fog that might’ve caused her to mishear you, and says, “You want to what?”

It’s too late to take it back, so you grasp on to the bit of alcohol-induced confidence that had you saying it in the first place. “I want to have a baby.”

You notice Javy swallow, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Why?”

Your shoulders rise and fall in a shrug, and you know the gesture is stupid. It’s too nonchalant. It makes you look like you’re trying on a quick thought to see if it fits rather than presenting yourself for as sure as you are about your decision. 

“Like I said, I want one,” you tell him. That answer, too, nearly makes you wince. I want one. That’s what children whine to their parents after seeing an advertisement for a new toy on TV. That’s what spoiled brats say. “I mean, I’ve thought about it.”

“That’s great,” Reuben says with a shaky edge to his tone. “It’s just that–”

“It’s just nothing,” you interrupt him, the alcohol loosening your lips even more. “I’m ready to have a baby.”

Voices cease, and despite the cacophony of noise throughout the room, your little table is surrounded by silence. Then a loud thump comes from behind you, and you jolt in place, choking on your sip of beer. 

Coughing to clear the liquid from your lungs, you spin on your heel to find that the source of the sound was a beer bottle slamming down onto a table, hitting it so hard that amber droplets spewed over the rim, scattering little puddles onto the oak wood surface. 

Around the glass neck are the tightly squeezing fingers of your ex-boyfriend. His knuckles are white. Nails are digging into the side of his thumb. There’s a frown; a sharpened jawline from gritted teeth; eyes that are burning holes into yours. 

You didn’t realize he’d already arrived. 

Before you can get yourself together enough to utter a syllable—no, a fraction of a syllable—Jake is turning his back to you and abandoning his drink to shove his way through the crowd. Shoulders nudge shoulders as he weaves himself around body after body until he’s swallowed completely. From over many heads, you see the front door of the Hard Deck open and close. 

When you look back at your friends, they all have their heads down, save for Bradley, who says, “It’s um…he’s…you know…”

The weight of shame bends your spine forward. You nod, take one last sip of your drink for courage, and retrace Jake’s steps.

In the humid air of summer’s night, he is pacing, back and forth and back and forth, muttering something you can’t quite make out as his boots crunch the gravel of the parking lot and his hand ruins his neatly combed locks. You wait for him to notice you, and when he finally does, he stops short. His jaw ticks. His eyebrows dip in the center. Your throat constricts, blocking from entry the deep breath that you were hoping would calm your racing heart. 

Then he says, “What the actual fuck,” and your stomach twists into a knot. “Are you for goddamn real? You want a baby?”

A sigh trembles out of you. “Jake, I–”

When you take a step forward, he takes one back, and it so thoroughly shatters your heart that you can practically feel the pieces of the organ falling away from where they are meant to be.

“I cannot fucking believe you,” is just short of a growl. 

“It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Oh, it is absolutely what I’m thinking. You said you didn’t want one. But what you meant is you didn’t want one with me,” he says. “What, did you find some other guy I don’t know about?”

Your head shakes with vigor in your best attempt to dispel that thought from his head. “There’s no guy.”

“Yeah, right,” he grumbles. 

“There isn’t. I just–when we were together, I wasn’t sure.”

Jake’s arms throw up and fall back down, hands smacking against his outer thighs. It echoes like gunshot, and you flinch as if the bullet struck you. “What the hell could’ve changed in nine months!”

You swallow hard, trying to process the question in a way that will provide you with an acceptable answer, an answer he will understand, but you come up short. “I–I don’t know. Alright? It’s a…a feeling.”

He scoffs. “A feeling.”

“Yes, a feeling,” you say. “And it’s not my fault we didn’t have that feeling at the same time.”

Jake stares at you for five hefty beats of your heart before releasing a groan and pressing the heels of his palms against his closed eyelids. He tries to breathe, but the inhales are too shaky and the exhales too uneven to be effective. After a minute, his hands pull away from his face to settle on his hips, and he again meets your gaze. Green orbs are glistening. You think you see the gathering of tears in his ducts, and in response, your vision turns watery, briefly blurring his figure and features.

“I wanted to marry you,” he says, much too softly for your comfort. His voice cracks when he repeats, “I wanted to fucking marry you. I wanted us to raise children. I wanted all of it. But you ran.”

Your knees quiver. “I didn’t want to run from you.”

“Oh, no?” He mockingly snorts. “Well, I wasn’t the one to leave you, was I? I never would’ve left you. Not for anything.”  

Your mouth opens, but you close it, because you can’t argue. Not fairly, anyway. You can’t pretend you weren’t aware of what he is telling you now. You knew how deeply he loved you when you were together. But he scared you that day. He threw you a curveball over breakfast with a conversation you weren’t anticipating having for years. A baby wasn’t something you’d thought about before. But what you did know was that you weren’t prepared to be a mother, and that the smile on his face was so wide it was as if you’d already agreed, and the combination of the two had panicked you to a point of breaking both of your hearts.

“What you said came out of nowhere, and it terrified me. I didn’t know what else to do,” you say, and the wince that scrunches his features just about kills you. 

You want to tell him that it wasn’t him. That it wasn’t his fault. That he did nothing. That he was perfect, and amazing, and everything you could’ve asked for. But you’re not sure it would matter, if he would even believe you at all. 

Still, you want to try. 

“Jake, you were–”

“What about now?” he says.

You blink. “What do you mean?”

His weight shifts from his left foot to his right. “You not being ready is why you broke up with me,” he reminds you, as if you could ever forget your mistake. “So if you’re ready now, why wouldn’t we be doing this together?”

Your heart’s suffering rivals the ache that consumed it on the day you left him. Suddenly, those shards of its brokenness feel like they are being stomped on, a heel digging into the pieces and twisting back and forth, grinding them back into grains of sand. 

At the pained pinch between your brows, Jake’s face falls, his lips thinning and olive-green eyes flicking away from your sorrowful expression as if he is unable to take in the sight of your pity. He tilts his head, and his hand rubs along the edge of his jaw. It could be minutes that go by, but you allow him that time, as much time as he needs.

“Yeah.” His following huff is weak. “I guess it’s stupid, but I’ve been hoping that if you one day changed your mind, you’d come to me,” he tells you, gaze locking back onto yours. “Was there ever a possibility of you doing that?”

You shake your head.

He nods as he bites the inside of his cheek. “Why not?”

“Because we’ve been broken up for almost a year. And it wasn’t like that day was particularly amicable,” you point out as you recall the raised voices, the devastation, the tears you shed as he pleaded with you, the slamming of the front door that had you collapsing to the ground, the regret that followed, the damage that could not be undone.

His mouth pulls down into a frown. 

“Jake, it’s not that I don’t want y–” You pause, swallow, take in some of the remaining oxygen that has yet to be sucked out of the air, then blow out. “I wasn’t going to assume you still love me.”

“Well, you should’ve,” he says dryly, and that oxygen abandons you entirely. Your eyes widen and your head jerks back, and you don’t know why you didn’t anticipate that response, but you didn’t, and so once again, you’re plunged into a state of silence. 

“You still love me?” he asks, but you’re still in shock, and too much time passes for his liking. “Simple answer, Honey. Yes or no.”

Simple. He’s right. It is simple, and it’s an answer you already have. But you fail in your attempt to give it. Your vocal chords do not flutter, your tongue does not flick, and even if it did, your lips don’t seem to be able to form the shapes needed to get the words out. 

Jake’s chin dips toward his chest as he lightly shakes his head, and, unsure of what else to do, you stand there and just watch him, watch the physical embodiment of his disappointment, watch the hurt you’ve inflicted upon him all over again. A tired sigh blows out of his nose before he looks up and starts walking back in the direction of the bar’s door, and you know you should let him go, but as he passes you, your arm whips out and you grab onto his wrist. 

He doesn’t pull away. Nor does he slough you off as you expected. He freezes.

In your peripherals, you can see his chest rising and falling with thick breaths. You can feel his pulse thrumming against your fingertips, a rhythm you had memorized long ago, and you quickly release him as if the meeting of your skin and his burns you. 

When Jake turns, his eyes are forced to sear into your cheek because you can’t get yourself to look at him. You fear what you will see. Anger? Irritation? Misery? You’re not sure you can handle the reality of any of those possibilities. 

In the end, though, you’re not given the choice. His hand reaches over to cup the opposite side of your face, and your head is eased to the side until your stares are connected. To your surprise, it’s not anger; it’s not irritation; it’s not misery. It’s curiosity. It’s a questioning gaze that searches every one of your features for an answer that he eventually succeeds in finding. 

“You do,” he says. Not an inquiry; a statement of fact. One that your voice doesn’t have to confirm.

Surrendering, you twist your body toward his. As his tongue darts out to wet his lips, the hair on your arms stands on end. A few moments hang over your heads to give you the space to push him away, but when you don’t, he leans in, inching closer and closer and closer. And then his mouth is on yours. 

You’d forgotten the sound of your own whimper, and it’s like greeting a long-lost friend. Familiar. Comfortable. Full of promises. Your arms immediately loop around his neck as you rise up on your toes. Jake’s head tilts. Your mouth parts for his tongue and you greedily claim the groan he throws down your throat.

Time warps, pulling your past forward to meld with your present, and it’s as if those months without him didn’t happen. As if it were all a bad dream and you woke to find yourself in the home you shared, and rather than reject him as you had at his mention of a baby that morning, you accepted the proposal, ready to dive headfirst into a beautiful future together. 

That future peeks its head into the corner of your vision as he continues to kiss you, reinserting itself into your pathways of possibilities. And you want so desperately to wrap your fingers around it and hug it to your chest. Cuddle and protect it. You know this time you would take good care of it. But Jake starts to pull back. He separates his lips from yours like it’s the easiest thing in the world, when for you, it would be about as easy as unwelding one piece of metal from another without the fire to do so. The act stuffs you full of dread; it makes your nerves wriggle under your skin and turns the tips of your fingers and toes numb. 

You don’t know what to say, how to beg him not to leave you, but thankfully, you don’t have to. Your anxiety is instantly quelled when he says, “Come here.” Then he’s grasping your hand and leading you around to the side of the building. 

Once hidden by the darkness that the streetlights can’t reach, he pushes you up against the wall. His hands plant on either side of your head. He stares down at you. Breath brushes your face, and the tension is unbearable, tight, a band ready to snap. It’s the only tension you’ve had between you and a man that’s capable of bringing you to your knees. 

“Honey,” he says, a desperate muttering accompanied by a heavy exhale. 

You nod. 

“Yeah?” he whispers.

“Yeah.” 

Your fingers fist into the collar of his shirt and you pull his mouth back to yours. The clink from the metal clasp of his belt being undone echoes over the waves that crash onto the shore.

—

You’re in awe. There’s no other way to describe it. She blinks up at you with his eyes and lashes, and her lips, a replica of your own, part in a yawn, and your heart explodes with an otherworldly kind of love.

“She's…” You shake your head, choosing silence, because you’re unable to find the perfect words to describe the bundle in your arms. And she deserves nothing less than perfection. 

Jake’s lips plant on your temple. “I know, Honey,” is a mutter. “I know.” His palm grazes over the blond dusting of hair on her head. “You did amazing.”

“You think so?”

He hums in agreement.

With great difficulty, you tear your eyes away from your daughter to those of your soon-to-be husband. He’s already looking down at you, his lips curved upward, his eyes shining with a devotion that, despite the weight of your relationship’s history, has been present from the moment you met. Even when you were broken up, you would often catch him looking at you in the very same manner before he could turn his head and pretend otherwise. And you love him for that; for his unwavering hope.

“Jake,” you start. 

“Yeah, Honey.”

Your smile matches his as you reach up to cup his cheek. His hand overlaps yours and he turns his head to press a kiss to your palm. 

“I never wanted it to be anyone but you,” you then say. Because it’s the truth. More than the truth, it was inevitable in every sense. You knew it for certain the moment you learned of your pregnancy after that night outside the bar. You instantly acknowledged that there was a dominant piece of your mental will that was always going to ensure you would end up where you are now, in this bed, with her, with him. 

Jake’s eyes close. He leans down until your foreheads touch. His nose nudges yours. “And I only ever wanted it to be you,” he replies. 

[reluctantwerewolfbuckley]

NEW CHAPTER UP!

Chapter 4 of Next Thing You Know is here. Thank you everyone who has commented and left kudos so far and thank you so much to @reluctantwerewolfbuckley for the last minute beta read/sanity check on this chapter! ❤️

Apologies for any errors - I know fuck all about firefighting past what I have learned from YouTube…

Three weeks later everything is going so much better than Buck could ever have hoped. He would say it's just like before, but in fact it's better. He feels more relaxed, Tommy seems more relaxed, both of them are more comfortable with each other and themselves than they ever were.

They're not living together full time, Buck's lease isn't up yet, but he spends most of his time at Tommy's house these days anyway. When he stands in the garden, watching the sunset in Tommy's arms, or leans in the garage doorway, ogling Tommy while he works on his truck, Buck still cringes a little when he remembers how he'd earnestly suggested Tommy move into his tiny, rented loft.

There is still a tiny worried voice in the back of his head, whispering that the other shoe might drop any moment, but on the whole he feels happier than he has in ages.

***

Tommy has already left for work when Buck wakes up. He remembers the warmth of his boyfriend's lips pressed to his hair as he whispered his goodbyes and I love yous while it was still dark outside.

Now there is sunlight falling over the bed and Buck stretches with a deep groan, shoulders and back popping as he struggles to summon the energy to move. He feels a twinge of an ache in his ass and smiles to himself as he remembers the previous night.

Once he's managed to drag himself out of bed, Buck ambles through his morning routine. He showers, brushes his teeth and dresses in some of the large assortment of his clothes that have already found their way over to Tommy's house from the loft.

In the kitchen he opens the fridge and pulls out the ingredients for his usual protein smoothie. He throws it all in the blender and winces at the roar of the machine, which always feels unnecessarily loud this early in the morning.

He takes the cup off the blender and takes a sip. As always it smells strongly of his favorite vanilla protein powder but for some reason, today it is apparently not his favorite. The moment the smell hits his nostrils his stomach turns. He puts the cup down, swallowing hard and puts a hand to his mouth as a wave of nausea washes over him from nowhere.

His skin feels clammy. He takes a deep breath and blows it out hard, bracing a hand against the counter as he fights down the rising bile. What the hell? He sniffs the cup again and the nausea rolls back harder, churning his stomach. The milk must have gone bad, he thinks, dumping the concoction into the garbage disposal with a sigh of irritation. He'll just have to grab something on the way in.

Read more on AO3 - tags under the cut. Please let me know if you would like be added to or removed from the tag list 😊

Tagging - @rdng1230 @fanficsbysteve @chemistry66 @disaster-j @beanarie

@hardly-an-escape @until-i-set-him-free @loucifersbitch @fussels-stuff @miriellesandthegiantpeach

@bidisasterevankinard @trombonechurchill @jamieroyjamieroy @thecarrott @panikkarscurls @fenrirscarsback

[reluctantwerewolfbuckley]

🐺🐺🐺

Melllll darling! I got a little carried away with this so you’re getting a little extra mating run fic 😘

🐺🐺🐺

“Okay, Alpha,” Sal dreamily sighs swaying closer and closer to Tommy. He wants to nuzzle his face into the alphas neck right across his scent gland. Wants to smell like Tommy tomorrow during The Run that way no other alphas try and claim him. Wants Tommy to smell like his…smell like he’s property of Salvatore Deluca.

“I’m gonna claim you omega nice and slow like you deserve and then once you’re mine i’ll make sure to spoil you rotten,” Tommy purrs extending his neck to the side and giving the omega even more access to the unblemished skin. “Build you a house somewhere out in the middle of nowhere where we can raise all the animals you want. Give you a pretty little safe place where you can build your den.”

“Den,” Sal repeats him looking excited and a little nervous about the prospect.

[reluctantwerewolfbuckley]

Send some emojis y’all

Make Me Write

I’m gonna take a page outta @bangpop91’s book and do a make me write

Send as many emojis and I’ll share some snippets with y’all

🧛: Untitled BST Halloween

🤠: Woke Up In Nashville (Nashville 335 AU)

🐺: SalTommy Mating Run fic

✈️: A Hangster 5+1 fic

🎹: The Black Keys

Tagging if y’all wanna send emojis: @rdng1230 @thecarrott @cliophilyra @fuselsstuff @pumpkinevann @nine-one-wanton @sunnywithachanceofbi @herrmannhalsteadproduction @30somethingautisticteacher @kinardsevan

[reluctantwerewolfbuckley]

Make Me Write

I’m gonna take a page outta @bangpop91’s book and do a make me write

Send as many emojis and I’ll share some snippets with y’all

🧛: Untitled BST Halloween

🤠: Woke Up In Nashville (Nashville 335 AU)

🐺: SalTommy Mating Run fic

✈️: A Hangster 5+1 fic

🎹: The Black Keys

Tagging if y’all wanna send emojis: @rdng1230 @thecarrott @cliophilyra @fuselsstuff @pumpkinevann @nine-one-wanton @sunnywithachanceofbi @herrmannhalsteadproduction @30somethingautisticteacher @kinardsevan

[reluctantwerewolfbuckley]

✨✨From Scratch✨✨

Maddie doesn't need to be told her brother-in-law is pregnant, but Tommy and Buck might My contribution for @typicalopposite 's bucktommy mpreg weekend day 1 : the beginning - finding out/taking a test Read here or on ao3

“Thanks again for having us over for dinner, Maddie.” Tommy told his sister-in-law sincerely as the adults sat down around the dinner table- the kids spending the evening with Grandma and Grandpa Lee.

“Of course! We’re always happy to have you two here, and besides- it’s not like either of you are doing much cooking in your kitchen right now anyway.” Maddie pointed out.

“How long is the reno supposed to take anyway?” Chimney asked from the kitchen as he loaded food onto plates.

“Not sure.” Tommy admitted. “We’re hoping to do what we can ourselves when we aren’t working- so far we’ve gotten as far as gutting it-, and it will depend on when we can get contractors in to do the stuff we can’t do ourselves.”

“I still don’t even know why the kitchen needed a total gut job.” Buck admitted as he helped Chimney assemble everyone’s plates. “It was fine before, we could’ve just done some cosmetic stuff.”

“Baby you hated the layout of the kitchen.” Tommy reminded Evan. “And you want a 6-burner gas stove, that wouldn’t have fit in the old one’s spot, not to mention we have to run in a new gas-line.”

“So this whole reno is just for the purpose of spoiling Evan,” Maddie teased.

“First wedding anniversary present. For me and himself.” Buck corrected his sister.

Tommy looked over just as Howie began adding cooked mushrooms on everyone’s plate, and Tommy nearly visibly gagged at the thought of mushrooms out of nowhere. He usually liked them just fine, especially when cooked the way they had been tonight, just not tonight apparently. “Hey Howie, none of those for me, thanks.” He said casually.

Maddie looked at Tommy concerned. “You usually like those,” She frowned.

“Just not in the mood for ‘em tonight.” Tommy shrugged, unsure how else to describe it.

“Alright.” Maddie wasn’t going to argue, but that definitely was interesting.

---

About a week later Tommy accompanied Maddie, Jee-Yun, and Nash to the beach as the kids wanted to go, but Maddie and Chimney were on opposing schedules and taking the two young kids to the beach solo was never a wise idea.

Maddie and Tommy chatted idly between answering Nash’s million questions- he was in a ‘why’ phase- and between calling for Jee-Yun to not go so far. Maddie couldn’t help but notice over the course of the afternoon that Tommy took quite a few trips to the bathroom, and had been absent-mindedly rubbing at his chest as though it was sore or aching. She also found these things interesting, and when paired with the mushroom incident, she was beginning to have her suspicions, but she kept her mouth shut and her thoughts to herself. If she was right, Tommy and Buck would tell her themselves when they were ready.

---

Maddie’s suspicions grew yet more when Tommy had ‘caught a weird stomach bug’ a few days later resulting in Buck coming over for dinner without Tommy. And when the ‘stomach bug’ lasted for a couple weeks, sometimes causing Tommy to miss family dinner and other times just messing with his appetite, Maddie’s suspicions were all but confirmed.

---

Nearly six weeks had passed since the mushroom incident, and Maddie figured Tommy and Evan would be coming clean any day now. They were over for dinner as had become a frequent occurrence recently, however due to there being no kids present again- thanks to the Lees- they were having a nicer dinner. Chimney opened a bottle of wine before Maddie could suggest he not and Maddie took over from there. She took the wine bottle to the table as Chimney brought the rest of the food. She poured Buck a glass, then Chimney, and then it should’ve been Tommy but she silently skipped over him and went straight to pouring herself a glass.

Tommy looked at his sister-in-law. “Geez Maddie if I’ve done something to upset you all you need to do is say so.” He said in a light-hearted tone, despite his confusion.

“Not upset at all.” Maddie promised as she returned the wine bottle to the kitchen.

Buck looked at Chimney hoping Chim knew something and could enlighten him.

Chimney shrugged, just as confused as Buck was.

Tommy leaned back in his chair to keep looking at Maddie. “Then why am I getting left out here?”

Maddie returned to the table and sat across from Tommy. She appreciated how committed he was to the bit, but as far as Maddie went, the cat had been out of the bag for weeks. “You know,” She grabbed her fork. “The thing you’re not telling us yet.” Surely Tommy was at least at the end of the first-trimester now, if not out of it entirely.

Chimney and Buck shared a confused look with each other before they both slowly started eating.

“I don’t follow.” Tommy said simply.

Maddie sighed. “Look, I totally get wanting to keep it secret at first- it can be so scary and so many things can go wrong- but did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

Tommy was growing increasingly confused, and now somewhat frustrated. “I have no idea what on earth you’re talking about, Maddie.”

 Maddie looked at Tommy exasperatedly. “Do you really want me to have to say it?”

“Yes!” Tommy said quickly.

Maddie shook her head and chuckled fondly. “I was a nurse and I have two kids, did you really think you could keep your pregnancy a secret from me for this long?”

Chimney’s head whipped up so fast he was sure his neck would still be hurting tomorrow, meanwhile Buck nearly choked on what he’d been eating.

“My what?” Tommy asked quietly, as his mind began racing.

Maddie’s face fell. “Your pregnancy.” She said slowly, now feeling bad for bringing it up. Maybe she was wrong and he wasn’t pregnant after all. Maybe she had been right, but Tommy’s first trimester symptoms had gotten better not because he was out of the first trimester, but because he’d never be making it out of the first trimester.

Buck looked at his sister in confusion. “What makes you say that?” He gave an odd chuckle- not quite angry, but not just nervous either.

Maddie looked at Tommy a moment longer, then her brother, then back at her brother-in-law. “I- I just thought, I mean with the ‘stomach bug’ and the food aversions, and the frequent bathroom trips, and your chest bothering you...” Maddie trailed off.

Buck started speaking at the same time Tommy did. “Maddie did you seriously think-”

“Oh my god.” Tommy mumbled.

Buck stopped and looked at Tommy. “Wait really?” He asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” Tommy murmured. “I guess, hypothetically.”

“You didn’t know?” Maddie was dumbfounded.

Chimney looked at his brother-in-law. “Buck, this is the part where you should offer to run to the drug-store and buy a test.”

“I didn’t think…” Tommy said in response to Maddie.

Buck glanced at Chimney then back at his husband, silently asking if that was what Tommy wanted.

Tommy swallowed hard, then nodded slightly.

“Okay,” Buck stood up so quickly he knocked over his chair. “Shit.” He muttered as he picked the chair up. “Okay, I’ll- I’ll be right back.” Buck said and began heading for the door.

“Get a multi-pack!” Maddie called after him.

Buck nodded and quickly left the house.

“Well so much for a dull moment around here.” Chimney tried to joke, before everyone fell silent for what could’ve been a minute or an hour.

“I thought-” Tommy started. “I thought I was too old.” He looked at Maddie. “I’ve thought I was too old for at least ten years now.”

“You can’t say that for sure until you’re fifty-five.” Maddie explained gently. “Chances of it happening naturally go down as you get older, but it can still happen.”

“I’m forty-eight years old!” Tommy scoffed. “And I thought it was earlier for men.” Tommy frowned. “That’s- that’s what I was taught.”

“In school in the eighties and nineties?” Chimney asked.

“Yes.” Tommy said guiltily, as Howie’s tone implied that was wrong.

Maddie sighed. “That was the commonly-accepted theory at the time in medicine. But since then research has shown it’s not the case.”

“Clearly.” Tommy looked away, then down at his plate that he no longer had any appetite for.

“You really didn’t have any idea?” Maddie asked.

“No.” Tommy said truthfully. “Like I said, I thought the chances of it happening were over ten years ago. I- even though I’d thought about- about wanting it, I think I’ve just been so sure for so long it’d never happen that I never really considered it…”

“That makes sense.” Chimney reassured Tommy.

“So you do? Want it?” Maddie asked gently.

The question terrified Tommy. Did he want to be unexpectedly pregnant at 48 while in the middle of home renovations? Not particularly. But did he want the opportunity to carry a child- to make something so special from scratch, to feel them move before they were even born, to love them unconditionally before he even met them? Maybe. Did he want to be a dad? He couldn’t think of much else that was scarier, but yeah, he did. Tommy nodded slightly. “Yeah.”

Maddie smiled at Tommy.

A few minutes later, Buck came bursting through the door again, sweaty and out of breath with a drug store bag clutched tightly in his fist.

Maddie stared at her brother in shock and a little dismay.

“Evan, did you actually run to the drug store?” Tommy finally asked.

Buck nodded. “I kinda panicked, I didn’t know which one to get so I got a few.” He admitted as he handed Tommy the bag.

“Buck when I said ‘run’ to the store that was a figure of speech. I didn’t mean you had to literally run.” Chimney told him.

Tommy looked in the bag, overwhelmed at the numerous boxes of different brands and types of pregnancy tests.

“Yeah. I know.” Buck told Chimney. “But Tommy had the truck keys and I was too nervous to come back and get them, so.” He shrugged, still trying to catch his breath.

Maddie could tell Tommy was overwhelmed. She got up from the table and gently touched his shoulder. “Can I offer you some guidance?”

Tommy looked at the bag for a second longer, then up at Maddie and he nodded.

“Okay. Come on, let’s see what Evan got.” Maddie gently led Tommy towards the bathroom.

Buck looked at Chimney. “It feels like my heart is in my throat, is that normal? Should it feel that way? Like my heart is in my throat? It doesn’t feel normal.” He spoke rapidly.

“Why don’t you sit down and try and take a couple deep breaths for me Buckaroo.” Chimney encouraged. “It's not abnormal, but if you don't calm down you're gonna give yourself a panic attack.”

Buck sat down and focused on his breathing for a moment.

“It’s normal to feel nervous.” Chimney assured him. “And excited and scared and in total disbelief.”

“What about all the things that could go wrong-” Buck started, eyes widening.

“Normal to think about that too.” Chimney assured. “But try and remember that as scary as this is for you? It’s still scarier for Tommy. And he needs you right now. So take a couple breaths, collect yourself, and then go be there for him.”

“Right. Yeah.” Buck nodded in understanding.

“That’s it?” Tommy asked Maddie.

“That’s all there is to it. It’s idiot proof.” She promised.

“Okay.” Tommy nodded, ready to do this if for no other reason than the not knowing was gonna kill him.

“Good luck.” Maddie smiled. “Evan will be outside when you’re ready for him.” She added and left the bathroom.

Tommy kept his hands steady despite his nerves as he took the tests then put the caps back on them and set them on the counter. He washed his hands, set a timer on his phone, and opened the door to find Evan waiting in the hallway.

“Do we know…” Buck trailed off as he stepped closer.

“Not yet.” Tommy shook his head.

“How are you feeling? Do you need anything?” Buck asked.

“Just you.” Tommy murmured.

Buck nodded and wrapped his arms around his husband, holding him close. “I got you.”

Tommy hugged Evan back and hummed in appreciation, he rested his head on Evan’s shoulder, face towards his neck, and inhaled deeply, taking comfort in the distinct smell of his husband.

Buck gently ran a hand up and down Tommy’s back, his brain a lot calmer and slower with Tommy in his arms.

They stayed like that until the timer on Tommy’s phone beeped and Tommy slowly pulled away. He turned the timer off, then looked over at the tests. The results shouldn't have felt surprising but they did anyway. “Oh.” He whispered.

Buck saved his reaction for now. “How do you feel about this?”

“We’re gonna be dads.” Tommy was still in disbelief, but he couldn’t help smiling regardless.

Buck grinned widely and pulled Tommy in for a kiss.

[reluctantwerewolfbuckley]

bucktommy, A kiss along the jawline?

Thank you for the ask! <3 I planned on leaving this fic alone--after the second draft--for a couple of days. Instead, a wrote a third/final draft today and here it is :) Titled: Heliotropism. 1,666 words according to Ellipsus. Desperately hoping there's no egregious errors/typos.

Sunlight streams in the window, casting a golden glow over the bathroom. It falls softly on Evan—highlighting the auburn in his curls and eyelashes and the pink tint on his cheeks. To look at him is to look directly at the sun—but Tommy finds it doesn't hurt like he thought it should.

Like a sunflower to the sun, Tommy turns towards Evan. For light. For warmth. For nutrients. It used to scare him, that it felt less like a conscious choice and more like it was just in his nature. Woven into his DNA. As if he, Tommy Kinard, were always meant to follow the bright star that is Evan Buckley.

But unlike sunflowers—as they get older—Tommy never wants to stop following Evan's light. He'd tried that once—twice—before. It had only left him cold and colorless and withered. He'd been convinced he couldn't be what Evan wanted or needed. He hadn't realized that all along Evan had been turning towards him too.

It doesn't scare him—as much—because now he knows Evan's heart and he'd follow him to the ends of the earth.

Evan turns away from the sink and brings back a wet towel. He speaks softly into the comfortable quiet. "Can you close your eyes for me?"

"You know…when you offered to help me shave, I wasn't expecting this." Tommy was never this precious with his shaving routine—he might splash warm water on his face beforehand, but he wasn't using a hot towel like Evan had done. He certainly wasn't giving himself a warm oil massage. And he'd spent enough mornings with Evan to know he was never thorough with his own routine.

Tommy has to admit it feels good to be tended to with such focus and warmth. It feels even better to stop denying Evan what he wanted the whole time they were together. What Tommy had always deflected. What he'd always turned away from and lavished Evan with instead.

"Well, I don't do anything halfway—"

Tommy snorts. "That I know."

"You shouldn't be surprised is all I'm saying. Now close your eyes so I can do this right."

Tommy does as he's told.

Evan gently presses the cool towel to Tommy's face. Then he applies aftershave—his own aftershave that he knows Tommy loves but would never get for himself. Evan warms moisturizer between his palms before rubbing it on Tommy's face in slow, gentle motions.

Tommy doesn't comment on the special attention Evan pays to his cleft.

Evan sweeps his hand across Tommy's jawline, lingering. Tommy presses into his hand.

Evan clears his throat. "All good."

Tommy opens his eyes and smiles up at Evan. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Even if I did have to find out you were hurt from Chimney."

He picks at the brace on his right wrist. "It's just a minor sprain," he mumbles.

"Still. You're hurt—enough to be off work for two weeks." Evan turns to the sink and washes his hands. He takes a deep breath, his rigid shoulders dropping with his exhale. He turns back to Tommy. "When I said I want us to be in each other's lives, I meant it. I want to know what's going on with you."

"It didn't seem like a big deal."

"What would you have done if I'd wanted to see you? Tell me you had a shift?" He raises an eyebrow.

Warmth floods Tommy's cheeks. Yeah, he deserved that. "I was embarrassed, okay?"

"Because you tripped over the alley cat you swear you don't feed? I've seen your cabinets, Tommy. Nobody eats that much tuna by themselves."

Tommy purses his lips.

"You had no problem telling Chimney. I mean, do you remember how I hurt my shoulder—slipping in rotten pumpkin guts on a call? Objectively more humiliating. And you never made me feel embarrassed—"

Tommy raises an eyebrow.

Evan smirks. "Okay, you made me feel the right amount of embarrassed."

"Hmm."

"My point is, you never made me feel dumb and you never complained about taking care of me. Not just that time, but every time I needed you."

"I was happy to."

"I know. And I'm happy to do the same."

Tommy feels the urge to deflect—like it's somehow easier to let Evan care for him than it is to let him acknowledge it. He makes a show of checking himself out in the mirror. "If you ever need a career change, I'll put in a good word with my barber."

Evan smiles and shakes his head. "A ringing endorsement." He leans against the sink, arms and legs crossed.

They look at each other—suspended in the glow—for a while.

Evan rubs the back of his neck and ducks his head. "I didn't know it would feel so…intimate." His eyes meet Tommy's again. His long lashes flutter and a blush that matches his birthmark blooms on his cheeks.

All Tommy feels is warm, warm, warm. He sways towards that feeling. He sweeps his eyes down Evan's chest—naked, for reasons unknown but ultimately begin and end with the explanation of it being Evan. Evan, who gives all of himself—pours all of his overflowing love—into everything he does.

He smirks. "Yeah, well. I don't know what wikiHow article said you needed to have your tits out."

Evan laughs—a short, sharp, surprised sound. Just as quick as it had come on, the amusement leaves his face and is replaced with a haunted expression.

Tommy sits up. "Evan, are you okay?"

"I think that's the first time I've laughed since"—he shakes his head—"but that can't be…right?" His voice breaks on the last word.

"Oh, sweetheart." Tommy reaches for him and in the span of a breath, Evan climbs into his lap and wraps himself around Tommy. He rubs Evan's back. "It's okay. I've got you."

Tommy speaks softly to Evan until he stops shaking.

Evan sits up from where he'd had his face tucked into Tommy's collarbone. He swipes at his eyes with a sheepish look on his face, like he might apologize for having feelings.

That just won't do.

Tommy traces the tear tracks on Evan's cheeks. Evan's eyes flutter closed as he sighs, pressing into the touch. Tommy cradles his face as he kisses his cheek and jawline. Kisses his nose—which makes Evan twitch his nose and smile. Tommy kisses his other cheek, the hinge of his jaw.

Evan sniffles. He tries to smile. "Thank you."

"Of course."

"I guess that had to happen eventually."

"What's that?"

"Crying in front of you."

"Oh." Tommy takes a deep breath as he rubs Evan's side. "Evan, you should know that I saw you—I watched you—that night at the lab…" He watched Evan stumble into the hallway, wild-eyed and shaking. Watched him collapse onto the floor—like invisible strings had been holding him up and now had been cut. Watched him sob and scream and fold in on himself. Watched helplessly as Evan's heart was shattered into a million pieces.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry. I don't know if you would have wanted me to see, but I couldn't look away. I didn't want to look away, not when you—" Tommy shakes his head. "Even when it hurts, I don't ever want to look away."

Evan's eyebrow furrows. He looks at Tommy—searching, maybe. For what, he doesn't know. "I'm glad you didn't. Sometimes I wake up and it feels like I'm still in that hallway. I still feel the terror and the confusion and the grief. The helplessness. But my actual memory of it is mostly a blur."

"God, Evan. I was just frozen there. I wanted to go to you and I didn't."

"Tommy, you couldn't."

He shakes his head. "But after? I wanted so bad to be there for you and I wasn't. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you."

"I'm sorry we weren't there for each other. But we're here now. What you said? That goes for you too. Even when it hurts. Even when you think it's silly or embarrassing or"—Evan makes air quotes—"not a big deal. You're not alone. You don't have to be alone. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I know this"—Evan gestures towards the shaving kit on the counter—"pales in comparison to…stealing a helicopter or whatever—"

"It really doesn't. Even so, I'm not keeping score. You don't owe me a debt. That's not how relationships work."

"No, I know. That's not why I'm here. I just want you to let me be there for you too. I need to know I'm needed too. That I'm wanted too." Evan rubs the back of his neck. "It's kind of like my whole thing?"

Tommy isn't sure how he missed it before. "You are, Evan. Needed and wanted."

Evan smiles. "I think—I'd like if you told me about that night. Not now, but soon?"

"I can do that."

Evan nods. "Do you have anywhere to be today?"

Tommy shakes his head. He squeezes Evan's side. "Just here."

Evan climbs off of Tommy's lap and takes Tommy's hand. "Will you let me make you breakfast? I'll make those blueberry pancakes you like. And I won't even make fun of you for your affinity for burnt toast and your aversion to putting ketchup on your hash browns."

Tommy laughs. "How generous of you. But it's"—he checks his watch—"noon."

Evan scoffs. "Okay, well I didn't eat yet today. I was too nervous after you called me."

"Evan."

Evan raises an eyebrow.

"Yes, you can make me breakfast."

Evan grins like he won a prize. He pulls Tommy up on his feet and holds on until he's steady. He looks as hopeful as Tommy's ever seen him. He looks as bright as the sun. "And tomorrow? Will you let me make you breakfast then too?"

Tommy takes Evan's hand again. Soaking up the warmth. Chasing the light. "I'd love that."

[reluctantwerewolfbuckley]

lazy mornings

for @bucktommysummerfest , week 9 prompt: lazy mornings, 600 words

read below or on ao3

Tommy stepped out onto the back deck to find Buck curled up in one of the lounge chairs, big fluffy socks peeking out from the blanket he had draped over him.

“Good morning,” Tommy said, setting two coffee mugs down on the table next to him. Buck scooted forward so Tommy could squeeze himself in behind him. Once Tommy was comfortable, Buck leaned back against him and Tommy wrapped his arms around his waist.

“I hope I didn’t wake you up,” Buck said. “I just wanted to take advantage of our last day here.”

“I mean, the bed was a little cold,” Tommy teased. “But no, you didn’t wake me up.”

“I think I could stay here forever,” Buck admitted, staring out at the lake and the muted colours of the sunrise. 

“It would be an awfully long commute to work.”

“We could get a helicopter. You could fly me to work. It would be what, an hour? That’s better than traffic most days.” Buck tilted his head back a little so he could smile at Tommy. 

“It does not take you an hour to get to work,” Tommy said. 

“Once you add in all the time it takes to get my kisses it does,” Buck argued playfully. 

“Oh,” Tommy drew the word out. “So I shouldn’t give you kisses before work so you can get there faster?”

“That’s not at all what I said,” Buck laughed. “And anyways, I’ll be asking for more now. Fiancé privilege.” He held up his hand to show off the ring Tommy had bought him, glittering in the early sunshine.

Tommy dug his nose into the side of Buck’s neck.

“Ah, you’re cold!” Buck swatted him away, laughing. 

“Because it’s November in the mountains,” Tommy pointed out. “And you’re hogging the blanket.”

Buck rearranged them so Tommy was wrapped around him like a barnacle, making sure the blanket covered his arms and legs. He leaned back against Tommy, pressing him into the chair. 

“There, fully covered, happy now?”

“Hmm,” Tommy considered the question thoughtfully. “Well, now I can’t reach my coffee.”

“I’ll give you your hand back when you want to have some,” Buck promised, lacing their fingers together.

“Then it’s perfect,” Tommy said. “So how many kisses are we talking for this fiancé privilege?”

“Well,” Buck said, “one for each year of dating, one for each year we’ve lived together, one for each month until we get married.”

“I think that’s going to make your commute longer than an hour,” Tommy said dryly. 

“I’ll suffer through it,” Buck said nobly. 

“Do you only get the fiancé kisses when you’re headed to work?”

“No, I can get them anytime.”

“Okay,” Tommy mumbled as he pressed kisses into Buck’s neck. 

Buck squirmed and laughed as Tommy pressed his cold nose into the skin behind Buck’s ear.

“Fiancé revenge,” Tommy told him, “because I woke up alone when I could have been out here cuddling you.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Buck laughed. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Well I give you permission to next time,” Tommy said. “I’d rather be up early with you than wake up without you.”

“You’re such a sap,” Buck giggled delightedly. “Okay, I’ll wake you up next time. You still have to make the coffee though.”

“Oh,” Tommy wiggled their linked fingers. “Speaking of, coffee please?”

Buck untangled their hands and passed Tommy his mug before picking up his own, leaning forward a little bit so they could both drink their coffees. 

“How long do you want to stay out here?”

“Until it gets dark?” Buck half-joked. 

“We can do that.” 

tag list: @chimneyz @swagmaster9k @setmeatopthepyre @bucktommyyendgame @desert--moonchild @bandluvr97 @chemistry66 @letsdosciencetoit @geekwarrior107 @racerchix21 @fan-of-a-lot @bybobbysbeard @adhd-dean @styxhuntress @owlgirl495 @a-simple-space-bi @fuselsstuff @joyousmistake @queerasbuck @starryeyedjanai @betterthanfakemouthstatic @sherlocking-out-loud

interact with this post to be added/removed

[reluctantwerewolfbuckley]

There are still some orders left to fulfill, and Buck and Tommy are having the time of their lives making the cutest treats with their adorable little friends.

Tommy (and another little friend) brought out some Pilot Cake Pops for all of you to thank you all for your support and helping spread kindness throughout the year.

This is Bridget. She loves to climb up Tommy and slump over his shoulder whenever he's doing something. She will try and get to those cake pops before you do. So grab one while you can!

Like to take, reblog to share ♡

[reluctantwerewolfbuckley]

Do not cite the deep magic to me, witch. I was there when one page of bucktommy fic on AO3 became two…

[reluctantwerewolfbuckley]

Teaser Tuesday

Thanks for the tags @bangpop91 & @nine-one-wanton

This is from a very special Halloween fic y’all are getting in October! @rdng1230 I hope you love this just as much now as you did the other day.

“Tory, he practically kidnapped me,” Buck whines looking up at his boyfriend trying to explain how he and Tommy had first met. “Kept saying I was his mate and how he'd make sure I never wanted for anything then his creepy fanged ass took me to his castle and you know what he’s sleeping in?”

“What, baby,” Sal hums scratching his nails across Tommy’s scalp making him purr against Buck’s wrist. “What was our sweet vampire sleeping in?”

“A casket,” Buck exclaims before yelping at Tommy digging his fangs even harder into his skin. “What was that for?”

“It was a coffin, Evan. I was sleeping in a coffin,” Tommy corrects letting go of Evan’s arm and ignoring the blue eyed brats glare. “A coffin has a removable lid. A casket has hinges and the lid doesn’t come off. And before either of you say anything about how stereotypical of me it was comfy.”

“Comfy my ass Kinard,” Buck grumbles making Sal laugh. “It had nails pounded into the bottom of it and some in the lid on the inside.”

“Okay, maybe not comfy per se but I’d also been punishing myself for some past misdeeds and I didn't deserve comfort if I didn't have my mates,” Tommy mumbles refusing to make eye contact. “And once I had you in my life I started sleeping in an actual bed again.”

[reluctantwerewolfbuckley]

do not 'oh it's just mascara' me i mean ANYTHING if you would hesitate to leave the house for a certain occasion without applying a certain thing to your face then you wear makeup for that occasion

[reluctantwerewolfbuckley]

Movie Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @bangpop91

Rules: list 5 of your favorite movies in a poll, have others pick their favorite

Tagging: @rdng1230 @thecarrott @cliophilyra @pumpkinevann and whoever wants to play

[reluctantwerewolfbuckley]

Tidbit Tuesday

Thank you for tagging me @herrmannhalsteadproduction 💜

(And thank you @bangpop91 and @rdng1230 for tagging me in the other tag game yesterday. It’s a long, dumb story.. but I was going to play, lost a draft, gave up, yadda yadda.)

Here is a tidbit from one of my sicktember ficlets. I chose this one bc Kay mentioned bowling in her tidbit!

—

Eddie pretended to not be impressed. He didn’t even have a witty taunt. Tommy suspected he was just in a bad mood because he’d pulled a muscle during the first game, and he’d been forced to bowl left handed. They pulled the bumpers out for him and everything. Stopping short of requesting one of the dinosaur shape slides that toddlers used to launch their balls down the lane.

Val was doing only slightly better than Eddie. Both she and Eddie were fiercely competitive and terrible at bowling - in equal measure. They were holding their composure juuust well enough to still be considered good company. But Tommy was thinking it was a good thing this was their last game. Things were approaching the line between friendly teasing and poor sportsmanship.

“You sure you guys don’t spend your time here on the sly?” Val asked, coolly sipping her beer. “If I walk by those photos of league bowling nights that line the entryway, I’m not going to see your faces?”

Tommy laughed, and massaged his pec. He thought maybe he hadn’t chewed one of his nachos well enough. He kept feeling like he had a sharp angular chip sharply poking at his chest.

🏷️: @30somethingautisticteacher @chemistry66 @cliophilyra @disaster-j @exhaustedpirate

@fuselsstuff @judymarch15 @reluctantwerewolfbuckley @sunnywithachanceofbi @thecarrott

@trombonechurchill @typicalopposite