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batmanisagatewaydrug · 9 days ago

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reading update: October 2024

hello, ahoy, and welcome to my October reading recap.

I made a real effort to focus on spooOOOoooky books this month, in the name of the season; you may even recall that I started early and read some spooky stories at the tail end of September. (read Carmen Maria Machado's comic The Low, Low Woods, btw.)

I've never been great at sticking to a theme but I think it helped that what gets classified as "horror" can vary greatly, so I never really got bored of the genre. I did get disappointed more than once by how Not Spooky some of these books turned out to be, but that's a totally different question.

right at the end of the month you'll notice a couple of outliers with Caped Crusade and Luster, which happened entirely because I was out of library books and on the road for a conference, so I was reading what I could get my hands on! I've been working on rereading Caped Crusade on and off for a couple months and I bought Luster at a cool indie bookstore in the town I was visiting and then inhaled most of it on the way home.

ANYWAY. to the books!

And Then I Woke Up (Malcolm Devlin, 2022) - this is a novella with an interesting spin on the zombie story, where the "zombies" are actually people who have started suffering hallucinations that fill them with paranoia and force them see other people as monsters. so, like, there were never any REAL monsters, but a woman looked at her young son and saw him as a cannibalistic monster, so she killed him. so who's the real monster? it's very deep. this story's explanation for this is "the narrative," an idea so strong that it simply seems to take hold of anyone who's around a sufficiently charismatic ringleader who drives them to join in their delusions and kill innocents who don't share their worldview. it's not a super subtle zombie metaphor, but I guess very few zombie metaphors are. it's fine.

Through the Woods (Emily Carroll, 2014) - I truly wholeheartedly wish I had more to say about this but it's just a very charming creepy collection of comics. my favorite was the one that was the scariest, involving humans getting taken over by body-snatching worm monsters, but on the whole it was a very minor creepy factor. the art's great the whole way through.

Happy Medium (Sarah Adler, 2024) - Happy Medium is October's romance novel as picked by my patreonites, and I will admit: my hopes were not high going in. a conwoman posing as a psychic clashing with a skeptical hottie goat farmer didn't ping me as a great mix, but honestly? HONESTLY? it kind of served. there was a much more well-rounded emotional core to this book than I often encounter in my romance novels; at risk of sounding like a cornball it genuinely had a lot of heart. the conwoman is actually extremely charming, I was rooting for her in a big way, and her emotional journey goes so far beyond just falling in love with the goat farmer. I'll happily claim Happy Medium as my #1 romance of the year unless a challenger arises in the next two months, but it's not looking likely.

The Ones That Got Away (Stephen Graham Jones, 2010) - this is a collection of Graham's short stories that was published long before he became a huge name in horror with books like The Only Good Indians and My Heart Is a Chainsaw. and as much as I hate to say it, I think I personally prefer his longer form fiction. none of these short stories were bad, per se, and they're incredibly stylized and polished, but I think I like Jones' work a lot more when it has time to simmer out. I may have also been biased by the fact that I was desperately seeking something scary to read, because while Jones plays with some pretty narsty concepts, the horror tends not to hit until a last page reveal that recontextualizes everything that's come before. which is cool! but not scaring me as much as I wish it was.

The Salt Grows Heavy (Cassandra Khaw, 2023) - a lot of people told me I should read this because it stars a killer mermaid and a plague doctor, which are two aesthetic archetypes I love, and I will give this to Cassandra Khaw: I liked this a lot more than their other book, Nothing But Blackened Teeth. which is clearing a very low bar, since I didn't really like that book at all, but I do think Salt is genuinely a pretty marked improvement. the prose is still kind of torturously overwrought in many places and I desperately wish that Khaw would put the thesaurus away, but there's like. a Concept here. the core is fun.

Tell Me I'm Worthless (Alison Rumfitt, 2021) - this book is by far the scariest I read, because the horror is hatred and bigotry and a fucked up, evil house that brings out the very worst of everyone who steps inside of it. this book gets so fucked up and bloody and downright nasty in its exploration of the characters and the underlying bigotries that turn them against each other and drive them apart. I don't want to spoil anything, but the book follows a white trans woman named Alice and her mixed race, cis ex-girlfriend Ila. in the past Alice and Ila entered the evil house with their friend Hannah; that ended with Hannah dead and missing and Alice and Ila both scarred and traumatized, each certain that they were raped by the other. so that's what this book is like! not a lighthearted undertaking, but one that I could. not. put. down.

A Sunny Place for Shady People (Mariana Enríquez, trans. Megan McDowell 2024) - what is there to say? Enríquez is my short story queens, and her new release absolutely lived up to the precedent set for me by The Dangers of Smoking in Bed, which was originally published in 2009 but not translated into English until 2021. this collection is sooo aptly named, because many of the stories are obsessed with the terror of places: hotels haunted by memories, neighborhoods filled with ghosts, junkyards where bodies are hidden, towns abandoned and taken over by something sinister. also, completely detached from the quality of the writing, this book has one of the most striking covers I've encountered this year. the screaming yellow cover and bold purple text looked SO COOL under the purple string lights in my bedroom, which was a little +1 to my mood every time I saw it :)

Thirst (Marina Yuszczuk, trans. Heather Cleary 2024) - I think if I had to pick a favorite book from my spooktober reading, Thirst would edge Tell Me I'm Worthless out by just a hair, because I'm just SUCH a sucker for a modern gothic. this novel is split into two chunks. the first is narrated by a vampire (hinted to be one of Dracula's infamous brides) who flees the Old World and crosses the sea to find safety in a young Buenos Aires, where she struggles to figure out how to slake her thirst and escape from loneliness while avoiding detection in a modernizing world. ultimately she seals herself away in a crypt to escape the relentless pace of change around her, and that's when our perspective shifts. here we join a modern woman with a young son, an ex husband, and a dying mother, who's struggling under the pressure of grief as she watches her mother waste away. she ends up accidentally reawakening the vampire from the first half of the book, and you can imagine things get weirder from there. honestly, for me, the part of this book that's most brilliant is the latter half and it's deep meditation on grief, but the historical portion of the book also plays the vampire gothic to the hilt. delicious!

The Caped Crusade: Batman and the Rise of Nerd Culture (Glen Weldon, 2016) - this is a really fun piece of pop culture history, tracking how Batman came to be DC's little #1 it boy alongside the developing prominence of nerds and fandom as a cultural force to be reckoned with. as I said above, this was a reread for me, because I wanted to circle back now that I've actually read most of the major comic events discussed in the book. Weldon weaves between Batman in comics, TV, and movies to examine on how one portrayal influences another - for instance: the goofy '66 TV series saw a huge backlash in comics, which went way dark to reinforce a grim and serious Batman for 'real' fans who objected to the show making Batman a joke to much of the normie population - and I think that's a really neat lineage to trace. while I think Weldon is sometimes a bit too transparent with his own disdain for certain adaptations, he overall has an extremely levelheaded approach to Batfandom and a conversationally informative approach that I really enjoy. of particular note is the fact that Weldon is himself a gay man, making him one of the only writers I trust to talk about why he personally dislikes Joel Schmacher's movies without getting homophobic about it.

Luster (Raven Leilani, 2020) - this book!!! this was one of three novels recommended to me by Bonnie at Snowbound Books, and Bonnie if you are on this website I owe you my LIFE because you were 100% correct. I was obsessed from the very first line and it only gets better from there; Leilani's prose is painting a searing, witty Sistine Chapel to render her protagonist's miserable life in vivid color and detail. the short version is that our 23 year old hot mess finds herself jobless and homeless and ends up moving in with her married boyfriend who's 23 years her senior, where she forms a powerfully weird connection with his rage-filled wife and develops a bond with the couple's nerdy adopted daughter, as the two of them are the only Black women in the excessively white neighborhood. (spoiler alert: she also realizes that her married boyfriend is a fucking loser.) it's a simple enough premise but the execution is bananas in its flair. I couldn't believe this is Leilani's first and so far only novel; if she ever drops another I'll drag myself through barbed wire to get my hands on it.

Juniper & Thorn (Ava Reid, 2022) - I first became aware of this novel via twitter thread of Reid's that made its way to tumblr, in which Reid bemoaned being harangued by readers who were shocked that her dark fairy tale retelling had, you know, dark shit in it. having now read the book, I have to say: these people are fucking pussies. going into this book I was under the impression that there was full on-page father/daughter rape happening, which is actually NOT the case, so you can breathe easy if incest is a hard no for you. what's actually here is a wizard dad who's emotionally abusive, non-incestuous sexual abuse in the backstories of the main character and her love interest, some moderately explicit consensual sex, some bulimia, and [spoiler alert!] admittedly a lot more cannibalism than expected. it's not a lighthearted romp but it's also like, come on. come on. grow up. in terms of the actual book, rather than its controversy, I didn't LOVE it but I'm still compelled enough by the world building (particularly Jewish author Reid's Hueli people, who are a fairly obvious stand-in for Jews down to people claiming that they have horns and using phrenology to prove the have an unfair advantage at making money) that I'm going to check out Reid's earlier novel, The Wolf and the Woodsman, a novel set in the same world. it felt a little repetitive in places and the characters were largely pretty predictable, both of which may be a byproduct of trying to encapsulate the vibe of a classic fairy tale, but I had a good time reading it.

#bookblr #reading updates

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redflagshipwriter · 8 months ago

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Young Lovers shot by Cupid ch 3

(Damian/Danny dpxdc fic, Damian and Stephanie buddy cop fic)

Masterpost

Brown was a somewhat agreeable partner to travel with when she was not aiming to irritate him. She made no side trips, unexpected stops, and she certainly did not feel the need to show off world-class acrobatics when they were aiming for speed.

Begrudgingly, Damian admitted to himself that she was not entirely terrible. The revelation that she felt some competitive spirit in regards to Drake was good information. That could improve their working relationship considerably. Perhaps he would allow her more grace.

They arrived at the mall in short order.

They looked up the blueprint from outside and quietly conferred on a plan. The large building was closed, dark, and quiet. There was a single security office, and it seemed that the mall did not employ anyone overnight. Damian pried open a vent on the roof and slipped inside silently. Brown was at his heels a moment later. She hit the ground with a soft tap of her boots.

Imperfect, but excusable, Damian generously allowed.

The office itself was a damp little nest of filing cabinets with a lingering and unpleasant aroma of popcorn butter and coffee. Damian wrinkled his nose through the task of sorting their security tapes.

The food court tapes from yesterday had already been removed, labeled, and put away.

Unfortunately, they were literal tapes. Damian huffed in disbelief at the bulky VHS units.

“Holy moly,” Brown muttered. “I thought the old man was the only person who still used these.”

Indeed.

Damian suppressed a sigh. “I think it unwise to linger here and watch all the footage,” he said, but he hesitated to take them. It would have been much better if they could simply make a copy. But these? Impossible. Wasn’t it?

…Batman would know. Damian crossed his arms unhappily. The oldest members of the family would hold this knowledge. “You are too young to know these devices?” he confirmed.

Brown huffed a little laugh. “Yeah, but how hard can it be?” She tapped at the likeliest tape with a gloved finger. “There has to be a way to make copies. We can look it up. But we could just watch here. You know what time the incident was, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Damian admitted begrudgingly. “But it would be optimal to watch the entire day’s footage to ensure that nothing else happened.”

Brown blew out air between her lips. “Alrighty then.” She dug out her nightphone and apparently started searching for tutorials.

Between the two of them, they managed it. They slipped away with two recorded tapes. They made a detour to deposit them in Spoiler’s bike storage before returning to their patrol. In between normal activities, they quietly debate their next challenge: watching the tapes. Obviously, Batman was the only person in the world paranoid enough to retain such ancient technology. They needed to use his equipment. But how to do it without being seen? It was kept in the entertainment room closest to Father’s bedroom, so that he could watch his childhood favorites if the nostalgic urge struck. He occasionally did so as background noise for filling out paperwork.

“The easiest time would be when he’s at work,” Brown recapped thoughtfully. “But there isn’t much of a window between when we get free from school and when he could come home from work. It would take weeks to watch it all that way even once, and by then Valentine’s Day would have passed.”

Damian made a tsk of disgust. It was true. Unfortunately, the fastest way to draw attention to their operation would be to forgo school. That would invite scrutiny from Pennyworth.

“Oh look, a carjacking.” Brown threw herself off the building and screeched like a bat as she fell. The sound rang out and echoed across the cold, dark streets.

It was a bloodcurdling sound. The guilty man looked up with amusingly wide eyes and a pale face. Damian suppressed an amused snort and came down in silence at a different angle.

After they had apprehended the fool and left him with a stern warning to follow the law or else face the pain of losing a hand, the two returned to the skies.

“That was pretty metal,” Brown said, in a tone of ardent admiration.

Damian cast a look back at the building they had been passing. He hadn't noticed anything in particular. To what was she referring? The window grates? Something inside the windows? He chose not to respond other than with a grunt.

Brown laughed again.

He ignored her harder and channeled his tenseness into an unnecessary flip before landing. He stood and put his hands on his hips as he surveyed the city. “Your Mother is frequently at work while you are imprisoned in school.”

“...Yes.” Brown cocked her head to the side.

He nodded briskly. “You will give me a disease,” Damian instructed. “Of course you may not malaise without supervision. You must come to the manor.”

“Oh, fake a sick day or two,” Brown breathed. She clasped her hands together. “You're becoming such a real boy, d’you know that?”

“Tt.” Damian turned away with disgust so that he did not have to see Spoiler bouncing on her heels.

“Alright, symptoms. Can't argue with diarrhea!”

He cringed hard.

“There's a good reason for no one else to see it,” Spoiler justified. “We can't fake a fever. We could maybe manage clamminess, red eyes, etc.” She paused. “But honestly, the two of us being sick at the same time would go a long way to convince, since we have a history of antagonism.” He could see her make a face under her mask. “Tonight could work against us for that.”

Damian nodded. “We will have to invent a conflict,” he said. He immediately started picking through their patrol for a premise.

She blew a raspberry. “Nah, adding details gives them something to unpick,” she said.

He was struck by the unwelcome realization that she was not wholly unintelligent. His mouth felt glued shut.

“I'll just go back in a bad mood, make a couple faces and sigh loudly once,” Spoiler said airily. “You put on your little thundercloud face and storm away, give crisp answers to anyone who asks if there's something wrong.”

“...And in the morning, I will sleep in,” Damian said. “Past my alarm. Pennyworth will note it as a matter of concern. I will get ready for school.”

“I'll call and ask if I can malaise at the Manor, since my mom is at work and she's worried,” Brown continued easily. “Alfred will put two and two together and tell you to stay home.”

Damian hesitated. “I think that if you had given me some low-class disease,” he started.

She cut him off with a lifted hand. “You get that illness isn't a class related thing, right?” She huffed. “Maybe you got me sick with your elementary school germs. Little kids are disgusting.”

…His peers were upsettingly unhygienic. He gritted his jaw.

Still, he had his self respect to maintain.

“I would never pass a contagious disease,” Damian vowed. He had too much self discipline for that. “The origin must be you.”

She hummed.

“Robin and Spoiler, you two are closest to Red Hood. Care to lend a hand?”

The two straightened into professional posture that Damian didn't remember leaving. “What's the situation?” Brown asked.

“He shook a bush and a lot of creepy crawlies flew out,” Oracle drawled. “Danger is minimal, but containment is impossible with one. Dropping coordinates.”

The next hour was spent dragging dregs of a gang from Bloodhaven out of dumpsters and other such crannies in order to escort them to city limits. They were aurally assaulted by Todd’s idea of a motivational speech and his puerile territorialism. “Stay out or I'll cut your hands off and sew them onto your ankles, blah blah.”

Damian tuned it out. Mother had truly wasted her time on him. He was so dramatic.

The rest of the night went as planned. He and Brown returned to the cave in a pointed silence, wrote professional reports, and stalked to their respective showers without exchanging a word.

He went to his room and picked up his alarm clock. Perhaps he ought to adjust the time?

‘No. If Pennyworth is passing and does not hear it at the usual time, he will note the irregularity.’

Damian willed himself to sleep. When the alarm did go off, it took his finely honed discipline to turn the machine off and then lie back down in bed. It was… uncomfortable. he laid there stiffly, looking at the ceiling.

He forced his eyes to shut. He matched his breathing to a pattern for sleep. And he waited to see how long it would take for someone to notice that he had slept in.

His punishment for childhood began at 8 am and released the prisoners at 3 pm. Therefore, he habitually awoke at 6:30 am. After an agonizing wait Damian peeled open an eye to see that the time was 7:12.

…It was past the time that he would normally have arrived at the breakfast table. He weighed if he wished to hurry downstairs or let Pennyworth come to check on him.

Something felt like a rock in his stomach. Damian sat up and put a hand to it, frowning at the sensation. What was this? When he had thought about his actions causing Pennyworth to abandon his post and trek up a flight of stairs the odd feeling had emerged.

There was a knock on his door. Damian's head shot up as it opened. Pennyworth peered in and his eyebrows went up slightly at the sight of Damian still abed. “Good morning, Master Damian,” he greeted.

“I apologize.” Damian took the hand off of his stomach and all but leapt to his feet. “I have- overslept. I will be but a moment.” He paused, genuinely flustered. “Good morning, Pennyworth.”

“Your breakfast is ready,” Pennyworth said mildly. “Excuse me.” He closed the door.

Damian raced through the bare minimum of his routine and pulled on a school uniform. He made it to the kitchen at 7:20. He faintly heard a phone ring in the other room. His heart gave just one undisciplined leap. Was it Brown, telling their story?

Drake was slouched halfway over the table, cradling a hard-boiled egg in his hands. An otherwise empty plate had been pushed into the center of the table. He had kicked his chair out quite far and was leaning directly forward, his entire upper body on the wood. He contemplated the depths of the egg with a wrinkled brow and eyes halfway hidden under bangs.

Damian edged around Drake to his seat, careful to avoid physical contact.

“You're late,” Drake said to the egg.

Perhaps it was his egg, Damian thought snidely. He was an oversized duck, was he not? Perhaps he had laid that egg and that was why it was so fascinating to him.

“Oy,” Drake drawled. He sniffled as he turned to look at Damian. “What's wrong with you? Forget a project?”

“Do not be foolish,” Damian forbade. He picked up his silverware and set it on his breakfast.

Drake regarded him for a long time. “Are you sick?”

…Why did he think so?

“No, I am not,” Damian snapped back, before he could think better of it. Perhaps he ought to have let Drake establish his alibi.

“I don't know, you look kinda off,” Drake said. He let the hand cradling his egg hit the table and he squinted.

“Master Timothy,” Pennyworth said.

Damian did not jump.

“Ms. Brown has just called to say that she's quite under the weather. I will be retrieving her shortly. How is your condition?”

Drake sat up. “I'm fine, Alfred,” he said formally. Then he blinked. “I think Damian is sick.”

He bristled. “You will bite your tongue,” Damian snapped back. “I am- I am no such thing.”

He could see the moment they both decided that he was, in fact, too ill for school. That was the goal: but he could not accept it calmly. They would assume he was on death’s welcome mat. Therefore he hissed and protested and derided Brown’s name with only a distant smidgeon of guilt.

But eventually, Damian was ushered to a quiet and dark room to wait while Pennyworth informed the day prison that Damian would be absent from Geology, Geometry, and all manner of vile variations on how one might ensure misery for a lone intellectual in a flood of brainless oafs.

Success.

Brown was delivered and managed to appear in the same room that Damian had been consigned to. She had managed to contrive an unusually poor condition of her normally lustrous hair. That, combined with shapeless clothes and smudged eye makeup, served to make her appear quite terrible indeed.

“You look terrible,” Damian told her, because she had done a good job.

A muscle twitched visibly under her eye.

“Is Bruce gone yet?” She asked.

Damian shook his head. “He will leave at 9:30.”

Brown sucked on her lower lip for a moment and wiggled into the crack of the sofa cushions. “I think we should go to his VHS room before he leaves, so when he notices someone was in there he doesn't see a reason to investigate.”

Damian shook his head minutely. “No. He will take the opportunity to spend the day with his ailing children and watch his favorite childhood show. We will have no opportunity to watch the security footage.”

“Not his kid,” Brown muttered. “But you're right. The chance is too high.” She let her head hit the back of the sofa. “That would be a good way to spend a real sick day, I think.”

Was she wistful?

Damian eyed her in bewilderment. Was she aching for bonding time with Father?

“I shall inform him that you want to watch his detective show at a later date,” he decided generously.

#red young lovers #dp x dc #dc x dp #dead serious #damian wayne #stephanie brown

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scrumptiousstuffs · 1 month ago

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can you do a post of first getting flirted on by khaotung?

This was a challenging post 🤣 because Tumblr has limits on the no of photos, video and I am not an expert in GIFs (although I actually made a video and one GIF by myself! - omg, so proud 😂 but please excuse the poor quality).

Instead, I made a mixture of all of the media. Hopefully anon is fine with my rambling mess (if you have read through my blog, you will know by now, my answers are not 100% coherent, hehe)

So, some of my favourites Khaotung being flirty with his bestie:

1. This moment from OF Recap Twitter session

2. Khaotung giving pouty air kisses to his bestie (its his thing to do hehe) - and usually ends up with said bestie having goosebumps (but First is learning to control the reaction 🤭, as evident by the BTS footage from THK film set)

3. But by far their way of flirting is through them bantering on Twitter (where the boys just use it as their own personal Line) - and all of us thirdwheeling. They do it casually too…from exchanging love letters (my favourite is still the 2 boys expressing their love for each other post LOLFanfest2024)

Or just how nonchalantly FK drop pictures that tells us things - for example 🙂‍↕️ (from 10/10/2024)

🤭 - that’s Khaotung’s shirt (gifted by a fan)

And look 👀, throwback to Khaotung’s pointed comment even back in April 2023 (and we know they share their wardrobe - if that’s not the boys flirting, then I don’t know 🤷🏽‍♀️. Cause nothing screams possessive bffs 👯‍♀️ like watching your love ones dressed in your own clothes or favourite perfumes)

I’ll finish up with a moment from an interview the boys did earlier this year (One D Press Conference) - (this was completely unhinged - and First just looked speechless with Khaotung’s bombshell statement 🫣) 👇🏽

Anon, I will also suggest you watch every single BTS of The Eclipse, OF and MLC if you have not watch them - cause it’s really just the boys flirting with each other 😂 . Similarly, ArmShare episodes featuring the boys during their birthdays (Khaotung - 2022, First - 2023) - the episodes are available on YT with English Subtitles 🫶

And others that I found on Twitter (cause I am only allowed to put one video per post):

Khaotung casually dropping 🤟

The famous FirFir moment

Khaotung calling First his kitty cat

#I hope this messy rambles helps you anon lol #I’m not sure it does #but it forced me to edit my own video and GIF even if these are of poor quality #anyway enjoy!#khaotung thanawat #first kanaphan #firstkhao #firstkhaotung #FK flirting #asked and answered #khaotung flirting!

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epicbuddieficrecs · 9 months ago

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Weekly Recap | February 19th-25th 2024

I just realized this weekend that I'm gonna be away on a work conference the day of the premiere AND the next day 🙃 FML 🤦‍♀️

Complete

🔥 the kiln-blaze in my body by lamardeuse/ @lamardeuse (Post-S4 | 17K | Explicit): It's nearly six months before Buck tells anyone.

Leveling Up by lamardeuse/ @lamardeuse (Poker Date spec | 6K | Mature): When he rose to his feet, he found both Eddie and Maddie staring at him. “What?” “You, uh,” Eddie said, his eyes looking sort of glazed over. “You just did measurements by eye. And math.” “In your head,” Maddie said. “Huh,” Buck said. “Yeah, that was – weird.”

We blossom and ask no reason by lamardeuse / @lamardeuse (Canon Divergent, Florist!Eddie | 6K | Mature): “Hen!” Eddie turned at the shout to see a tall blond firefighter built like a brick wall jogging toward them. As he came closer, Eddie amended that to ridiculously pretty brick wall. Holy shit, now Eddie realized why those firefighter calendars were so popular.

🔥 The Definition of Love and All Things Ineffable by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S5 | 29K | Teen): Maddie asks him, like she’s been waiting to ask him, “Does Christopher call you ‘Uncle Buck’?” “No,” Buck answers. “Why?” “He called me Aunt Maddie. You’re far closer to him than I am. I thought if I’m his aunt, you’d have to be his uncle. Why wouldn’t you be Uncle Buck?” And Buck doesn’t really have an answer. It’s just. It’s wrong. He’s not Chris’ Uncle Buck. Maybe he should be? Maybe he’s supposed to be? He shrugs and uneasiness settles in his stomach. What more could he ever be to Chris but an uncle? ~ In which Buck processes his breakup, learns his place in his family, has a huge crisis of sexuality, and finds the truth about love beating in his own heart.

🔥 counteroffer by buckleyseddie/ @buckleyseddie (Season 6, Getting Together | 25K | Teen): Or in order for Buck to make it up to Eddie, Eddie suggests that Buck gives him one hundred kisses.

That's What Friends Are For by phdmama/ @phdmama (Friends With Benefits to Lovers | 4K | Explicit): Eddie shows up an hour later. He’s clearly gone home and showered, as his hair is damp. He’s wearing sweats and a t-shirt that Buck is pretty sure is his, and he smells of soap and bacon. No, wait, the bacon scent is coming from the bag of takeout containers he’s carrying in one hand. Buck’s eyes narrow at the sight of the object Eddie’s clutching in his other hand. “Tequila?” he asks, raising one eyebrow and then laughs when Eddie just makes a bitchy face back at him. “I mean, I’m in, obviously, but it’s like nine in the morning.”

Like Lovers Do by phdmama/ @phdmama (Accidental Sexting | 5K | Explicit): The thing is, Eddie knows Buck’s body as well as he knows his own, maybe even better. He’s seen Buck changing, averted his eyes from Buck striding naked into the showers in the locker room. Eddie has watched Buck push through a workout, he’s pressed his hands to Buck’s flesh as if he could stop the bleeding through sheer force of will. He’s woken up to Buck sleeping on his couch or stumbling around his kitchen, sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he pulls out the ingredients for pancakes. All this to say, he’s seen Buck’s body a million times, in a million different ways. But not like this. Never like this.

Flickers of Fate by steadfastsaturnsrings/ @steadfastsaturnsrings (S3E15: Eddie Begins, Soulmates AU | 1,6K | Teen): "Did-Did the man who helped me pull out the dead solider survive?" Eddie mumbled, "He-He....said he was right behind me but then disappeared...Is he okay?" "There was no other man, Diaz, You were the last one out of the helicopter. You pulled out that solider all by yourself" The official standing over him responded, looking at Eddie curiously.

Spinning Out by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (S7 Spec | 2K | General): The sun always rises in the east and sets in the west. What goes up must always come down. And if Eddie Diaz is in a helicopter with his team, it must fall from the sky.

(put some music on) soft and slow by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (Canon Divergent | 6K | Teen): He walks up the stairs to the loft, and finds himself facing the backs of four office chairs. Over by the kitchen counter, Ravi gives a signal, and all four chairs turn around in impressive sync. “Saw you on TV last night,” Eddie says, still grinning. “Something you want to tell us?” OR: buck auditions for the voice. it goes about the way you'd expect.

🔥 Precious & Fragile Things by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Small Miracles AU, Angel Buck | 46K | Teen): Buck is the Fallen Angel of Petty Temptation, who has been tasked with tempting human Eddie Diaz to sin and enjoy life, but just a little. He thinks the job will be easy - get in, get out, go back to Peru to continue messing around with eternity. But when Buck arrives in Los Angeles, he finds Eddie is harder to tempt than expected, and more compelling than Buck had hoped.

Buttons and Patience by Tizniz/ @tizniz (PWP | 2K | Explicit): If anyone asks, Buck will blame Eddie’s buttons. Whenever Eddie wore those damn Henleys, he kept them reasonably buttoned up. But apparently not tonight. No, tonight those buttons were undone and exposing tantalizing skin, golden in the dimly lit bar lighting, and exposing Eddie’s collarbones. Buck wants to bite. Hard. Or lick. He’s not picky.

among the hungry and the patient by tinygiantsam/ @watchyourbuck (PWP | 3K | Mature): “Wanna make out?” Eddie blinked. Understandably so, by the way. He licked his lips, frowned, and took a step forward. “Excuse me?” Buck inhaled softly, somehow encouraging himself even more. “I said, do you wanna make out?” OR: Buck loses his patience with Eddie and asks him to make out.

Once Is A Mistake, Twice Is On Purpose by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Friends With Benefits | 5K | Teen): “Friends with benefits.” “Yeah.” “Just sex.” “Just sex.” Buck confirms, nodding.

Take It by Tizniz/ @tizniz (PWP | 2K | Mature): “Take it, Buck.” Eddie tells him when they break apart, squeezing Buck’s wrists. “Take it all.” “H-huh?” “This is about you and your pleasure.” Eddie gives his wrists another squeeze before he releases them, humming once more in approval when Buck keeps his hands there, fingers curling around the edge. And then Eddie grabs onto Buck’s hips, pulling him forward roughly against Eddie’s thigh. “Take what you want. What you need.”

WIP

if i need to rearrange my particles — i will for you. by dylaesthetics (Post-S6, Identity Porn | 4/16 | 15K | Teen): OR Buck joins a support app for first responders and matches with a firefighter who has PTSD and a kid who likes giraffes, apparently.

🔥 a foundation of trust and love we cannot see by lemonzestywrites/ @lemonzestywrites (FWB, BDSM, Sub Eddie, Dom Buck | 3/17 | 62K | Explicit): “It’s like I want to explore it and dive into it, but it’s not exactly like I’m seeing someone to try this all out with,” he explains, doing his best to keep down the annoyed huff that threatens to escape him at every other word. Buck nods to himself before steadily going silent. For a minute, Eddie thinks that this is the end of their conversation. “I can show you if you’d like.” Eddie nearly chokes on his beer.

🔥 because we'll all arrive in heaven alive by callmenewbie/ @puppyboybuckley (Post-S6, Disaster Fic | 6/9 | 41K | Explicit): During a search and rescue, Eddie disappears without a trace, leaving Buck to grapple with the sudden possibility of a life without him.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar / @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, S7 Spec | 119/? | 357K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Re-Read

🔥Plus or Minus by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (S5 | 10K | General): “Why are you cleaning out the kitchen? Why is my stuff in boxes?” Eddie slows, then stops. “Figured you’d want it back.” It’s quieter. Pained. When he says it. “I haven’t decided anything. So unless you’re kicking me out—” “Buck. Come on.” He’s not angry or snapping. It’s still quiet, and somehow that hurts even more. He’s resigned and defeated, and Buck is a scooped out, gutted, hollow shell. “I know how this ends the same way you do. You want to be loved, you want to be married. You’re going to leave. Might as well…” His voice cracks before he can finish and get it under control. “Shouldn’t drag it out.” ~ Taylor is offered a job across the country and asks Buck to go with her. Buck has to figure out if he wants to start over or if he has a reason to stay right where he is.

#buddie #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #buddie fanfiction #buddie fic rec #epic buddie fic rec #911 fanfiction #911 fic #911 fanfic

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verstappentime · 2 months ago

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lots of people asking for the first part of this bit of my divorce 'verse, so here it is <3 (recap: max retired from racing after his injury in silverstone was much worse than irl, he and daniel are no longer together)

Charles hasn’t spoken to him much since the breakup. They largely don’t look at each other in press conferences and driver’s parades. He doesn’t know what Max’s version of events is, what he’s told their friends. He has to let himself be happy Max is talking to anyone. Has to accept it, even if it means losing other people.

So when Charles calls, he knows it’s nothing good.

“Uh, let me get this,” he tells Scotty. Scotty rolls his eyes. He’d just been about to lecture Daniel about putting himself out there again.

“Hi, Daniel,” Charles says. He sounds strained, off.

“Hi?” Daniel shrugs at Scotty, I don’t know.

“I’m here with Max. He’s– he was fine before, maybe he was pretending, I don’t know. But he’s having one of his headaches, the bad ones?”

“Like a migraine?”

“Yes, that. Sorry. He’s scaring me. He’s– very sick and his eyes look weird and he won’t talk to me.”

Daniel swallows. This is not his responsibility anymore. This is not his responsibility anymore. “Can you ask him to rate his pain? Like, out of ten? He should be able to hold up his fingers if he can’t talk.”

There’s murmuring Daniel can’t make out. Then, “He says seven?” So, like, nine, minimum, if you’re a normal person.

“Does he need to go to the hospital?” Across from him, Scotty looks increasingly alarmed. Daniel waves a hand at him.

Charles says, “I asked him, but he told me to fuck off.”

Daniel pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay. There’s a number for his neurologist in his phone, okay? So if he starts slurring his words or anything extra weird, call that number. It’s normal for him to have a little trouble talking, but you’ll know the difference. Dr. Monroe. Do you have that?”

“Is that going to happen?”

“Charles. Do you understand.” Daniel can’t fucking do this. He fishes in his wallet, phone balanced on his ear, slaps down fifty euros in front of Scotty and stands up. He mouths ‘I’ll call you.’ Scotty points at his food, and Daniel whispers, “Eat it, I have to go.”

Charles says, “Yes, I understand.”

“Okay. Good. Can you ask him if he has his meds?”

Charles covers the speaker, muffled. “Max, do you have your medicine?” Max must shake his head. “He says no.”

Daniel curses, rubbing his eyes. Fucking hell. “Okay. Just– keep him comfortable, as best you can. No lights. If you have a sleep mask or something it might help. Get him something with sugar to drink.” He fumbles with his car keys until he can get a proper grip and unlock it. “I’m coming.”

Charles’s voice goes hushed. “Daniel, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

There’s a whimper in the background. It must belong to Max. Daniel’s heart hurts. He knows he doesn’t have a choice. He’s already punching Max’s address into his GPS. “I’m fucking coming, Charles, christ. I know the code to his apartment, I know where the meds are. I need you to let me in when I get there.”

“I really—”

“You called me,” Daniel reminds him.

Charles is silent for a moment. Then he sighs, resigned. “Okay. Fine.”

“Good. Look, just– tell him it’s going to pass. It’s gonna be okay. If he starts having problems with his vision he gets scared, yeah? So just tell him he’s okay.” He feels stupid, like he’s giving instructions to a babysitter. But he feels sick at the idea of no one taking care of Max, or someone not doing it the right way.

There’s a retching sound in the background, then rustling. Daniel can hear Charles saying, “Breathe. Breathe. Alright. Okay.”

“Charles,” Daniel says, urgent. “Tell him I’m coming, okay? Don’t let him get too dehydrated.”

“I don’t–” Charles makes a frustrated sound. “I’ll tell him, but I’m going to hang up. You probably do not want to hear that conversation.”

Daniel winces. “Okay. Yeah. Call me back if he gets worse. Or– call the neurologist, like I said before. If it gets really bad, he needs to go to emergency, I don’t care what he says.”

“Okay. Thank you for helping, Daniel. I will leave the door unlocked.” Charles hangs up. Daniel’s phone makes three irritating little beeps.

It’s going to take way too fucking long for Daniel to get the meds and get to Max. Even ten minutes is too long, but he can’t think of an alternative.

He runs a lot of red lights.

The code to the apartment is still Daniel’s birthday. He knew it would be.

Sassy’s in the doorway, and she stares at him when he walks in before scampering away. He never could make friends with her; she only loves Max. He empathizes.

#divorce verse #maxiel #maxiel fic #my fic

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hauntedhowlett-writes · 1 year ago

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𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬

pairing: dieter bravo x ghost hunter!female reader word count: 4.9k rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲

The producers of your hit ghost hunting show, Spirit Seekers, have picked your next celebrity guest. Dieter Bravo. You’re not looking forward to being locked in a reportedly haunted mansion with one of Hollywood’s biggest divas.

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

the first of my october spooky specials is here! ghost image in title art is from TO LIFE, TO DEATH by Jean-Marie GITARD. if you enjoy this fic, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment and thank you for reading!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), drug use - weed, smoking, dub con - sex following drug use, vaginal fingering, handjob, dry humping, getting locked in a haunted house together, misunderstandings. let me know if any tags are missing!

It’s not often you get called into an actual meeting with your producers. You’re on the road a lot filming for your hit ghost hunting show, Spirit Seekers, so they usually spare you from attendance and send you an itemized e-mail recap.

Not today, though. Today, all five producers were CC’d on the e-mail that requested a meeting to go over your next episode, which is set to start filming in two days. You tap your fingers against the shiny wood conference table, staring out at the Los Angeles cityscape through the panoramic windows as you wait for the suits to join you.

They all arrive at once, three men filing through the doorway with veneered smiles and abnormally smooth foreheads. They shake your hand one by one before taking their seats.

It’s Alec, a paunchy man with grey hair and round glasses, that speaks first, starting with a mumble of your name followed with, “I’ll cut to the chase. We’ve got a celebrity guest for the McCallister mansion episode that you’ll need to work into your production this week.”

“This is pretty late notice,” you reply, mind already running through what you’ll need to do to adjust for the format of a guest special. “Who is it?”

The three men exchange wary glances and you sit up straighter, bracing yourself for the response.

“Dieter Bravo,” Alec finally says, smoothing his tie with his hand.

“You’re shitting me.” If there’s one person you can’t stand, it’s Dieter fucking Bravo. “Is this how I find out Ashton is filming Punk’d again?”

The joke doesn’t land. Alec clears his throat before saying, “This isn’t a joke. And it’s an excellent opportunity to—”

“To what? Pander my show to a diva who’s just going to make my job difficult?”

“He has a very strong fan base that could bring in a large number of new viewers. Your show is popular, but only to a limited demographic,” Alec says. “We’re doing this for you. Spirit Seekers has a lot of potential but if you’re going to remain at the top and have a chance for another Emmy nomination, maybe even an award, you need to be willing to work with the guests that will bring in views.”

You sigh heavily. “I hate that you’re right.”

“I know. But I always am.” He slides a folder across the table to you. “Here are his requirements.”

“Requirements? He does know this isn’t a blockbuster production set, right?”

“This is the modified list,” the man to Alec’s right, Stephen, says. “Trust me, this is significantly better than it once was.”

You open the folder, scanning the document. “Alkaline water, glass bottle. Absolutely no plastic,” you read. “Organic, non-GMO, dye free, gluten free crackers. Did he just pick every Whole Foods buzzword and stick them together?”

“We will make this as easy for you as we can. We just need you to focus on the episode. Okay?”

“Fine,” you mumble, shutting the folder. “He breaks any of my equipment, I’m billing you.”

“Deal.”

Two days later you’re sitting in your makeshift command center with your crew mates, Andrew and Mike, making sure that all the monitors are displaying the feeds from the static cameras set up inside the mansion. You’ve already filmed solo interview segments with the owner, an elderly man who inherited the house over thirty years ago but left it untouched because of what he believes is a ghostly presence.

The sun is low behind the gorgeous Queen Anne Victorian home, orange sky haloing the steep roofed mansion. The historic building sits on six acres of land surrounded by a wrought iron fence that the owner, Paul, had to unlock for you to set up for the night filming session you would be doing this evening. He stands behind you now with his arms crossed over his chest as he watches you connect your equipment.

“So you’ll be in there all night?” He asks, voice wary.

“Most of it. We’ll get three hours of footage with Andrew following us through the house and then a few more hours of single camera action, coupled with the static night vision feeds that will roll all night. We’ll be inside until 3 a.m. and then work out here for a bit before packing up,” you reply. “Thank you so much for letting us come in and do an investigation.”

“I’ve got a bet going with a buddy of mine,” Paul says, puffing his chest out. “If you find something, he owes me a hundred bucks.”

You laugh. “I can’t guarantee anything. My goal isn’t to make a ghost where there isn’t one.”

“I know, I know. But I’m telling you, this place has always been weird.” He glances up at the house, his frame shivering despite the California warmth. “Doors always opening and shutting on their own, footsteps, voices. Whole nine yards. S’why I never moved in.”

You knew all of this, of course. You’d done a walk through of the property with one of your camera guys, letting Paul tell you his first hand experiences in the old house. You’re about to reply when the sound of a car barreling up the gravel driveway pulls your attention away from the conversation.

A black Escalade approaches, coming to a stop in a cloud of dirt that makes you cough. Paul pats your back as the back door opens and designer boots drop onto the gravel.

Dieter Bravo stands with one hand gripping the door of the car while he uses his other hand to tilt his sunglasses down his nose to squint at you. He’s wearing black joggers and a faded gray t-shirt with a hole near the collar, his hair a fluffy mess of dark curls.

“Hey,” you say in greeting. You hold a hand out and give him your name, forcing a smile on your face. “Welcome to the command center.”

“Command center? This some kind of secret army operation or something?” He asks, shutting the door and walking past you, leaving you with your hand out stretched for an unreciprocated handshake.

“Michael keeps an eye on the static cameras in case one needs to be fixed,” you explain, gesturing to the man sat in front of the wall of screens with a headset on. “Now that you’re here only,” — you check your watch — “an hour late, we can get started. Andrew, could you get him mic’d?”

Andrew approaches with a wireless microphone and the actor steps back and holds his hands up. “Hold up, I gotta make sure you got everything.”

“Got everything?” You ask.

“Yeah. My snacks and water?” He looks around expectantly.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Yes, they got your snacks. They’re in the cooler. Can you please let Andrew get your mic on? We have to start the guest filming before the light is gone.”

Andrew approaches Dieter again, who lets him get close enough to hook the mic to the waist of his pants. Dieter smirks as he says, “You could at least buy me dinner first.”

You groan, grabbing your own mic. “Let’s get started.”

“The mansion itself was built in the late 1800s and has only been home to two families since it was finished. It’s been in Paul’s possession for thirty years,” you say, walking backwards towards the house as the camera man follows. Dieter stands off to the side of the wraparound porch, waiting for his cue. “And tonight, we’ve got the exclusive opportunity to explore this gorgeous home with a special guest. Tonight’s Spirit Seeker is none other than Emmy Award winning actor, Dieter Bravo!”

Dieter steps into frame and gives a smile to the camera, clapping his hands together. “Let’s catch some ghosts!”

“Now, Dieter, we’re not the Ghostbusters,” you say, your voice deadpan. Dieter raises his eyebrows at you.

“That’s the best you’ve got?” He asks. Your brows pinch together.

“Excuse me?”

“‘We’re not the Ghostbusters’? Really?” He waves his hands to the camera. “Come on, sweetheart, give it a little more energy.”

Your teeth are clenched so hard your jaw aches. “I had energy over an hour ago. You know, when you were supposed to get here?” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Can we just get inside?”

He holds an arm out, gesturing for you to enter in front of him. Having toured the mansion already, you signal to Andrew to focus the camera on your guest for his reaction.

Dieter looks around the foyer, grand staircase and marble floors the centerpieces of the large space. “It’s a damn shame they don’t make them like this anymore. Look at the carvings! This has gotta be all original, right?”

“Yep. They’ve only upgraded the internal stuff, like plumbing and electrical,” you confirm. “The owner, Paul, inherited the house after his grandfather passed thirty years ago. He used to spend his summers here when he was a child and vividly remembers experiencing some…unexplained events that have left an impression on him.” You approach a table that’s been set up with your usually line up of equipment. “Tonight, we’re going to see if we can find an explanation for the inexplicable.”

“That’s so cheesy,” Dieter laughs. “You’ve got the cutest serious face, though.”

He thinks I’m cute? Your treacherous brain says, your face heating in response to the compliment. You quickly look at your equipment.

“Anyways,” you say, clearing your throat. “Let’s go through the equipment.”

You start with the basics. A digital recorder for capturing electronic voice phenomenon, night vision cameras, and dowsing rods. Further down the table you have thermal cameras, electromagnetic field meters, REM pods, and spirit boxes. Dieter listens attentively, to your surprise, and even asks a thoughtful question about the spirit boxes.

“How about we divvy up the gear? I can take the recorder and thermal camera, you can take the EMF reader—“

“No can do,” he interrupts, holding his hands up. “I don’t fuck with EMF.”

You blink. “What do you mean?”

“That shit is toxic. It’ll warp your DNA.”

“Dieter,” you say incredulously, “The entire planet is comprised of EMF.”

“No, that’s the geomagnetic field,” he argues.

“It’s the same thing!” You take a deep breath. “You know what? I’ll take the EMF detector. You can have the thermal camera,” you compromise, shoving the camera into his hands. You hastily gather the rest of the devices.

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

It’s the last hour of the main filming session where Andrew films you and Dieter using the equipment. So far, there haven’t been many notable experiences. You’ve captured a few creaking floorboards and the EMF meter has gone off a few times, but nothing that you can undoubtedly point to as proof of the paranormal, which is par for the course. What people don’t realize when watching your heavily edited show is that you cut out hours of silence and empty footage.

“Alright, Andrew, you’re welcome to head out. We’ll do a bit more upstairs,” you tell the camera man. “Thanks for you help.”

“‘Night, boss,” he replies with a little salute. Dieter watches him as he leaves.

“So, it’s just us now, huh?” He says, his eyebrows raised suggestively. “All alone in a haunted house…pretty hot.”

“Oh, please,” you say nervously, fiddling with your thermal camera, “We haven’t gotten any evidence that this place is haunted.”

“Maybe the ghosts are just shy,” he suggests.

You grab the REM pod and turn on the device, the LED lights flashing. “Let’s do a REM pod session. Here, hold the camera.”

Dieter holds the expensive equipment delicately, staring at the night vision screen to keep you in frame. “Not often I get put behind the camera,” he comments.

You spend the next twenty minutes asking a series of questions in the quiet room, your digital recorder running in your hand. Dieter remains focused on the screen.

“Why don’t you playback the recording?” He suggests. You glance at him, his face illuminated in the dark by the lights of the camera and the faint moonlight that filters through a window.

“Good idea,” you admit, hitting the stop button and running the tape back. There’s some static feedback before your voice announces the date and time of the recording.

“Is there anyone here with us?” Your recorded voice asks. There’s a beat of silence and you fully expect your voice to be the next thing you hear but instead there’s a garbled, ��Yes.”

“Holy shit!” Dieter shouts. “That was a fucking ghost!”

“Shhh!” You hiss, flapping your hand at him. You play it back and sure enough, the same disembodied voice echoes through the room, clear as day. “Holy shit!”

“Play the rest, play the rest,” Dieter demands. He steps closer with the camera trained on the recorder.

Together, you listen to the rest of the recording. There’s another moment where you think you might have gotten a response, but it’s not as clear as the first one. You play it back again and again, and finally Dieter takes the recorder from you.

“Alright, enough, if I hear you ask, ‘Do you mean any harm?’, one more time, I’m going to have to tattoo it across my ass,” he says with a laugh. “Actually, that would be kind of cool, right? Very…provocative.”

“Oh my god.” You can’t help but laugh and the man’s face lights up with a cute smile, the corners of his brown eyes creasing with the force of it. “Let’s go check out the study.”

“How does this one work?” Dieter asks as you turn on the spirit box, the staticky feedback noise filling the room.

“It sweeps through different radio stations rapidly and, theoretically, a paranormal entity can manipulate it and use it to speak. Just ask question.” You fix the camera on him. “Ready when you are.”

“So…do any of the ghosts think I’m hot?” He asks, glancing around the room. You bite your lip to hold in your laugh as the static continues. “Tough crowd.”

You roll your eyes. “Be serious.”

“Okay, okay, fine. Uh…did anything like…bad….happen to you?” No response. “Do you…like having guests?”

“No.”

Dieter jumps, eyes wide as he looks at the spirit box. “No fucking way,” he says excitedly. “Okay, uh, why don’t you want guests?”

“Loud.”

“Oh my god,” you murmur. “Keep going!”

“Do you want to hurt us?” Dieter asks. The device is silent, no responses coming through. His shoulders drop in disappointment. “Damn. Some confirmation that we’re dealing with Casper and not that fucking thing from Insidious would have been nice.”

“Try one more question? I’m going to get the thermal cam,” you tell him, rushing to the desk in the center of the room for your equipment. You hastily power it on and point both cameras at him. “Ok, go.”

“You’re supposed to say action,” Dieter says, making you roll your eyes. “But I’ll let it slide. Hmm…ghost, is there a room we should explore next?”

It’s silent for a beat, and you think maybe the session may be over, but suddenly the device spits out the word, “Attic.”

Dieter stares at you with wide eyes. “Guess we’ve gotta go higher.”

“Let’s do it.”

You open the door to the attic, revealing a dark, narrow staircase that looks particularly haunting. The man stands at your back, looking up into the inky black darkness. He audibly swallows.

“Uh…how about you go first? You’re the professional,” he suggests.

“You scared?” You tease, taking a tentative step forward. “It’s just a little attic.”

“In a very haunted house!” He hisses. “What if it’s luring us here to kill us?”

“Then you would have had to film for this ‘stupid show’ with nothing to show for it. Tragic,” you reply sarcastically, placing quotes around the words stupid show.

Because that’s what you’ve heard him call it. Your show was up for a Primetime Emmy award last year for your Halloween special and it was your first time attending an award show. Dieter was there to present an award and was seated only a few seats down from you, talking to another actor you vaguely recognized, when you overheard his feelings for your show.

“I can’t believe they put such a stupid show in this category,” he said, loudly. “It doesn’t even belong here.”

“What are you talking about?” Dieter asks as you reach the open attic. There’s a circular window that looks out over the grounds, caked with dust and only allowing a tiny amount of light into the room. You turn to face him.

“At the Emmy Awards last year. I was sitting two seats down from you and you said — and I quote — ‘I can’t believe they put such a stupid show in this category’,” you snap.

He stares at you incredulously. “Are you kidding me? I love your show. I’ve been begging my agent to get me on as a guest since your first episode!”

“Yeah, okay,” you reply sarcastically.

“It’s true! Just ask him!” He steps closer, eyes wide and pleading, looking like a puppy who’s just been reprimanded. “I was talking about that stupid potato documentary. It was boring as hell and had no reason being nominated!”

“Wait…so...you like my show?”

“I love your show. It’s, like, the closest thing to being in an episode of Scooby-Doo.”

You laugh and Dieter’s face brightens, like he knows he’s in the clear. Suddenly, the sound of a door slamming has you both screaming and Dieter launches forward, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as he leaps into the air.

It catches you by surprise, all of his weight leaning into you and sending you crashing to the floor in a tangle of limbs and an echo of groans.

“What the fuck was that?!” You ask. “Dieter, get off, I can’t breathe!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, rolling off of you with a thump and another pained noise. “You were supposed to catch me.”

“Catch you?” You wheeze, flat on your back.

“Yeah, like in the shows. Scooby always caught Shaggy.”

“Why am I Scooby?!”

“I don’t know,” he shouts. “Listen, let me go check what that was.”

“You’re not leaving me up here,” you hiss. “We go together.”

The two of you make it to the bottom of the stairs, only to discover that the door to the attic has slammed shut. Not only that, but the damn thing won’t open. Dieter slams his shoulder into it as he twists the knob, cursing up a storm as he tries to shove it open with no luck.

“Remember what I said about the ghosts trying to murder us?” He asks.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got a radio. I’ll tell Michael he needs to come try to open the door.” You tug the radio free from the waist of your jeans, pressing the button and asking, “Mike? You there?”

Silence fills the room. You try again.

“Mike?”

More silence.

“Fucking Mike,” Dieter grumbles. He heads back upstairs to the attic and you trail after him. He makes a beeline for the small window, feeling around the edges of it. “Maybe we can get the window open and call out to him.”

“Good idea,” you tell him, coming up beside him and pulling a flashlight from your back pocket, shining the light on the windowsill to help him find the latch.

There’s a rusted crank that he starts turning, the hinges squeaking loudly enough to make you wince. The window opens the slightest bit, fresh air flowing into the stale room.

“Can you get it open a little more?” You ask. With a grunt, he forces the crank around, his biceps stretching the sleeves of his shirt.

Not that you’re watching his biceps. Or the muscles of his back as he moves. Definitely not.

“That’s as far as it’ll go,” he says. “See if you can see your little tent down there.”

“Command center,” you grumble, doing as suggested. You can can’t see much except a corner of the white tent fabric, but you call out anyways, “Michael! Mike! Hey!”

There’s no movement from below, no responding shout. You call out for him again and again, but it’s no use. He’s clearly not answering.

“I don’t have my phone during investigations. Do you have yours?” You ask. Dieter pulls his phone from his front pocket.

“Fuck, it’s dead,” he groans, tapping the black screen. You sigh.

“What are we supposed to do now?” You check your watch and find it’s 1:30 a.m. You have no idea where the fuck Mike went, but hopefully he’ll be back by 3 a.m. for debrief and a very stern lecture about abandoning his post. Dieter grins at you.

“Wanna get high?”

“The episode you did at the asylum in Kentucky is my favorite. It’s so fucking scary. The gurney moving? The shadows? Fuck, I was hiding in a blanket the whole time,” Dieter says.

You’re sitting beside each other with your legs out in front of you, your backs leaning against the wall beneath the small window. You’re pleasantly buzzed, your head a little fuzzy and your limbs loose from the joint you’ve passed back and forth for the last half hour and you’ve been talking about your favorite episodes, yours to film and his to watch, the conversation flowing surprisingly well.

“You know, maybe I was wrong about you,” you say when there’s a lull in conversation. Dieter looks at you, his eyebrows raised. “Yeah, I just…I don’t know. I thought you were this high maintenance asshole, I guess. But you’re kinda cool.”

Dieter laughs. “Oh, baby, I’m definitely high maintenance. You weren’t wrong about that.”

Something about Dieter calling you baby makes you feel warm and gooey. You’d like to blame it on the weed but if you’re honest with yourself for once, it’s because of him. You tried not to like him, you really did, but he’s funny and nice and doesn’t think your whole ghost hunting gig is a waste of time like a lot of men you’ve dealt with in the past. Not to mention he’s so hot, with his messy hair and pretty brown eyes and warm tan skin. Sure, he’s a pain in the ass, but you’re realizing now that it’s actually part of his charm.

You must be quiet for too long or fidget too much because he’s smirking at you now, plush lips tilted up mischievously. “You liked that, huh?” He asks.

“Liked what?” You whisper. He’s scooches closer, his thigh pressing against yours and your shoulders brushing.

“Me calling you baaaaby,” he says, drawing out the word teasingly. “You got all quiet about it.”

“N-no I didn’t.”

“Riiiight,” he teases. He twists his body, reaching an arm across to grip your thigh. “C’mere.”

You go willingly, maneuvering your clumsy limbs until your legs are spread over his lap. He looks up at you with glassy eyes and a syrupy smile, sliding his hands into the back pockets of your jeans.

“You wanna try that again, baby?” He buries his face against your chest and you laugh, squirming in his grip. “Come on, be honest with me.”

“Maybe…maybe I kinda like it,” you mumble. His hands drift up your waist.

“Like what?”

“When you call me baby.”

He presses a kiss to your collarbone, the touch electrifying. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“You’re so annoying,” you huff, trying to pull away from him. He holds you tightly.

“Nooooo,” Dieter whines, peppering kisses along all the skin exposed by your tank top that he can reach.”’M sorry, I’ll be good for you, baby.”

Your eyes flutter as you sink into his hold. His light kisses turn into teasing nips of his teeth that make you gasp and grind yourself over his lap. You can feel him growing hard beneath you, the length of his cock pressing deliciously against the seam of your jeans to give you the friction you’re craving.

Dieter’s hand wraps around the back of your neck, pulling you forward to press his lips to yours. It’s awkward at first, just a lingering peck, but then he licks at your bottom lip and you open up for him, his tongue hot against yours as you explore each other. Your mouths are a little dry from the weed but the kiss quickly grows hot and wet, a little desperate and messy as you move together.

“Fuck,” Dieter groans when he pulls back for a breath. “Keep moving, just like that.”

You have a better idea, though. You move down a little bit until you can get your hands on the fly of his pants, popping the button and pulling the zipper. He helps you out a bit, lifting his hips to shove his pants down just enough for you to reach into his boxers and wrap a hand around his thick cock. His eyes are dark and his mouth goes slack as you slowly bring your fist up, palming the slick head and smearing the bead of precum around the sensitive tip.

You withdraw your hand, bringing it to your face to lick your palm, getting it nice and wet as you keep your gaze fixed on him. He’s breathing hard, chest heaving with the effort and he gasps when you take him back in your hand.

“Fuck, feels so fucking good,” he groans, tipping his head back against the wall with a thump. “Tighter, baby, squeeze it tighter. Fuck, that’s a good girl.”

His words have your clit aching with need and you reach down with your other hand to unbutton your jeans, trying to keeping your motions coordinated as you do. Dieter looks up and notices what you’re trying to do.

“You need a lil something, baby?” He asks. When you nod, his hand smacks yours away, successfully undoing the button and zipper. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

His hand slides beneath your jeans and panties, thick fingers quickly zeroing in on your needy clit with tight circles that have your hand stilling around his cock as you moan. His other wraps around yours, encouraging your movements as he plays with your pussy.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, fingers dipping lower until they’re pressing against your slick entrance. “Keep moving your hand, baby.”

You hadn’t even noticed that you stopped, too focused on how good his touch felt. “‘M sorry,” you mumble.

“Don’t be sorry,” Dieter murmurs, one finger pressing slowly inside of you. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

You try to focus on his cock, sliding your tight fist over his length, twisting your wrist around the flushed head, smearing the wetness at the tip around with your thumb. He pumps one finger, then two inside of you in a matching rhythm, the heel of his hand brushing your clit and making you moan.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, rocking your hips the slightest bit. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it, baby, I’m right there with you,” Dieter replies, his own hips chasing your hand. “Come on, come on, all over my hand, baby.”

The wave of pleasure crashes over you, your muscles tightening before releasing all at once as you cum, clenching around his fingers and moaning his name. Warmth spreads over your hand and when you finally open your eyes you see that Dieter has cum as well.

“Uh,” you say awkwardly, “What…what do I do?”

“Huh?” Dieter mumbles, withdrawing his hand from your jeans.

“With the” — you nod towards your cum covered hand — “mess?”

“Oh, right. Uh…just kinda…wipe it into my boxers?” He says. You do as he suggests, wiping the sticky mess into the fabric. “I’ll just deal with it later.”

“Boss? You there?” Mike’s voice calls out over the radio, which sits discarded to the side. You scramble off of Dieter’s lap to grab the device.

“Mike! We’ve been locked in the attic for over an hour!” You hiss. “Come get us right now and maybe I’ll let you keep your job.”

Mike responds that he’ll be right up and you fix your pants, hooking the radio back onto your jeans. Dieter stands, pulling his pants up and gathering some of the equipment. You stand together, waiting for Mike in what you would consider an awkward silence until Dieter bumps your shoulder with his.

“We should do that again sometime,” he says. “Maybe without the audience.”

“Audience?” You ask.

He leans in close, lips brushing your ear and making your shiver as he whispers, “The ghosts.” You shove him away, both of you dissolving into giggles. His face grows serious once more. “No, really. You wanna like…get breakfast or something? I know this good farm-to-table place that opens super early.” You smile at him.

“I’d like that.”

Dieter sits on the couch, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a box of gluten free crackers in his lap. “Hurry up! It’s starting!”

“Your fancy microwave burned my popcorn,” you whine as you rush back into the living room. Dieter sneaks a hand into your bowl, shoving popcorn hastily into his mouth. “Hey!”

“Boyfriend tax,” he explains. “Now, hush, or I won’t invite you over to watch anymore.”

“It’s my show!”

The opening theme music starts, some eerie instrumental that plays over a montage of scenes from earlier episodes. As the music fades, shots of the house and your recorded voiceover explain the location for the episode right before it cuts to you and Dieter.

“…And this, is Spirit Seekers,” you and Dieter say along with your recorded self, matching grins on your faces.

Dieter Bravo masterlist

All masterlists

#dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo the bubble #the bubble fanfiction #tw drugs

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drghostwrite · 1 year ago

Text

Until my Last Breath

Okay so this one didn't win the vote but per special request by @maiveeetheone I’m going to write it! Hope you enjoy! xoxo

Pairing: Regina mills x pregnant!reader

TW: mentions of blood, almost miscarriage, kidnapping and minor torture.

Summary: Regina’s mother, Cora, returns and tries to turn her dark again but Y/N, her wife, has given her everything she’s ever wanted: true love, family, marriage, power and now a baby. What happens when she stands in the way of Cora’s sinister plans.

******************************************************** You sat across the conference room table as Regina conducted the meetings, it was for the town so Sheriff Swan, along with David and Snow, Mr. Gold, Regina the mayor, Zelena, a couple others and you, now you weren’t only married to the mayor and carrying her child but you helped run the hospital. You were Chief of surgeries after Dr. Whale had that taken away with the Daniel incident.

“So right now we’re using funds to help with remodeling of the school, so…” Regina was doing a funds recap and taking with Snow about what would need to be done and you started to drift off staring out the window. You ran your hand over your swollen bump feeling your baby kick and knowing that Regina’s voice was soothing to your unborn child even though she was talking finances for Storybrooke. You began to daydream about mornings where she would wake up with that slow morning growl, it made you feral for your wife and she knew it.

“Y/N…Y/N?” you heard her calling your name and it snapped you back to reality, back into the conference room with its white walls and black and white modern decor. Regina was looking at you amused, she could only imagine what had stolen your attention but had a good idea it was her and the baby.

“Oh yea, so as of right now we’re okay, we thought of possibly coordinating with the schools to give more volunteer opportunities to the kids, but we also have to discuss my leave, due to the Dr. Whale situation we’ll have to find a replacement for my maternity leave.”

“Well how about Zelena?” Regina asked, her relationship with her sister had grown tremendously, in fact that’s the only other person besides Emma and the Charmings that she’d trust with her life and family’s life.

“And what use would she be?” Asked the skeptical Mr. Gold.

“Well I mean she is a trained midwife.” Snow suggested.

“Because of a curse,” Emma reminded.

“And I’m a trauma surgeon because of the curse, Snow you’re a teacher even though it was a curse it created a version of us, a true version of us with all the training and skills," Regina watched you a grateful look in her eyes, “All I’m saying is that we give her a chance, I can set her up to assist Dr. Whale and keep him in check while I’m out and I can have Blue and the other fairies or nuns, whatever, check-in and help with outpatient care.”

Everyone exchanged looks and Regina mouthed a thank you, they then agreed that you were right and that’s the plan they’d go with. You discussed a few more minor things and then decided that it was time for everybody to go home after a long day, you stayed in the conference room until everyone was gone and then retreated to your office. You have an office at the hospital but it's in a secure part due to dealing with patients and HIPAA info so days like this Regina converted one of the old conference rooms into an office for you. It wasn't as big but she made sure to have the comfiest chairs and couches, it was decorated very modernly like her office with contrasts of vibrant forest green instead of the complete black and white, she had your favorite flowers on the desk, orange hibiscus flowers with a towering monstera plant in the corner both enchanted to never die. You had couches and chairs with a large rug on one side like her office and you had a bookshelf wall and a built-in mini-bar that quickly turned alcohol-free when you found out about the pregnancy, there was also a portion that pushed into a secret room like her vault allowing you to keep sensitive information. She wanted to make sure that you were comfortable, in your office and that it could be an escape for you considering what you did on a daily basis and the fact that she got to be closer to you during the workday, able to visit whenever and for whatever she wanted.

You finished some reports for the day and made your way down the hall to her office, you knocked and heard her call for you to come in. You walked in and before you could shut the door you felt arms wrap try and wrap around your waist but instead your bump blocked the little arms.

"Y/N!!!" you reached down and ruffled Henry's hair, and then ran a hand on his back looking up to make eye contact with Regina, she watched the interaction and her heart swelled, Henry loved you but he didn't take the idea of a third mom the easiest at first. Now don't get me wrong he was great and excited about a sibling but he had a hard time, with the whole new mom thing, he never called you mom he always said his mom's wife or your name, and he also wouldn't ever come to you either he went to Regina or right to Emma one time he even went to Snow before you knew. You wanted nothing more than to let him trust you so ever since the wedding you've been earning his trust, so it meant the world to Regina to see him so excited to see you and she knew it meant the world to you.

"Hey buddy, you have a good day?" you glanced down at him as he looked up at you.

"Yea we had a field trip today and then David offereed to take me to the stables to go riding."

"Oh really?" you smirked, looking back up to Regina as she just shook her head. "Well, then does my brave knight need me to drop him off?"

He laughed, "No, he's here, I just wanted to come in and see you before I went over, so I made him stop."

"Well in that case have fun, be safe, and take some pictures so I can brag to the nurses at work." you leaned down and kissed his hair as he hugged you tighter, he then ran back out of the office, but before the door closed you heard him yell back, "Bye, Moms!" You tuned looking at Regina, she got up walking over to you, a tear rolled down you face and she swiped it away letting her hand linger on your cheek and you leaned into the touch, she had her other hand holding yours running her fingers over your wedding ring.

"He really does love you." her coffee-brown orbs looked into your emerald green ones, as more tears ran down your face for her to swipe away.

You laughed, "God these pregnancy hormones are killing me."

“Darling, I…”, all the sudden you heard a crash outside, Regina turned and moved to the window. You held her hand in both of your as she reached to move the curtain.

“What the he…” that’s when she heard the moving of a cloud of smoke behind her and no longer felt the warmth of you hand, she spun on her heels and spotted the figure across the room.

“Mother? What’re you doing here?”

“Ahh sweet girl I’m here for you.”

“Where’s Y/N, What did you do with her?”

“You mean that peasant you call a wife,” she laughed at her daughter in front of her waving her off, “she’s in a safe place or at least it’s safe for a normal person, but not sure about her and the bastard child of yours.”

“No Mother that’s my wife and my baby, biologically both me and Y/N. She has more heart and passion and power then you’ll ever know and she loves me, truly loves me and Henry and I’ve never doubted her for a day, I LOVE her.”

“Oh darling you just live the idea of her.” Regina was done talking she whirled a fire ball, grabbing the spare dagger from the sheath attached under the desk, courtesy of you, and whirled it in that direction. She watched as smoke cleared and the dagger was no where to be found she prayed that she at least stunned her mother.

———time jump———

You were slumped forward and felt the restraints digging into your wrist and ankles as they were tied to the legs of the wooden chair. You were quickly jolted awake by Cora grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at her. Ugh, she let out a disgusted sigh and shoved you face away turning back, you watched as she walked out of the room into a smaller side room, looking around you realized you were in an older cabin, wait this was the cabin that’s hidden in the woods the enchanted cabin that… you heard heels coming towards you and turned your head, Maleficent and Cora both stood looking at you. Maleficent knelt down in front of you studying your features, she stared at your bump deciding whether or not to touch, as if it wasn’t real, you thrashed in the seat and she looked into your eyes, she ran a hand over your bump feeling your baby move.

“Cora, this is not the way to do this.” Maleficent spoke out but kept eyes trained on you as you gave her the smallest most gently terrified look you could.

“I decide how I do things, you’re just here for support on getting her back.”

“But her wife and unborn child?” Maleficent stood going to Cora.

“If they’re gone nothing will ever stop her from going back to dark and staying there.”

You started yelling into the gag and thrashing in the seat. Cora moved over to you and you felt as she slapped your face the sting of her fingers meeting your skin and the ringing in your ear her ring sliced into the skin of your cheek and you felt the blood run down, you knew you would have a black eye. She then grabbed the gag sliding it from your mouth.

“I swear if you lay a finger on Regina or my baby… so help me God.”

“Oh darling, I see why my daughter loves you.”

“My WIFE will be here before you know it and when she gets here nothing will stop her or me from destroying you!” You yelled at the woman in front of you. She bent down getting in your face, “nothing will stop me from getting my daughter back.”

“She’s not your little play toy anymore.” Again you felt a slap this time blood ran from you lip. You looked up and saw a shadow go by the window, Cora walked back over to Maleficent and retreated into the other room as you sat there hearing them argue. You watched as the shadows moved towards the door and then the door cracked, revealing Snow and Regina was right behind she pushed past the other woman and rushed to you, she ran her fingers over the cut on your lip.

“God what did she do to you?” Regina undid the restraints pulling you up into a hug.

“I’m okay…” you trailed, she pulled back placing a hand on your bump and running it over your large 8 month swollen stomach, “the baby too, we’re both okay.”

“Regina!” Snow yelled before being thrown against the wall by Cora, she used her body to shield you from her mother, taking her stand.

“My brave girl, protecting the mother of her child, but I ask who protects you, who truly keeps you from falling back into darkness.”

“I do.” You spoke up moving to stand next to her. Cora laughed out loud and Maleficent moved to check on Snow who was waking up, “Maleficent, what’re you doing?”

“This is wrong Cora.”

“And who are you to decide what is right and wrong, you destroyed villages and kingdoms with a single breath during your dragon days.”

“Mother my reign of terror and bloodshed is over, I’m never turning back.”

“Oh shut up stupid girl, I’ll show you terror.” She flicked her wrist and you felt a pain rip through your abdomen, it was so hard it brought you to your knees and you reached grabbing Regina’s arm as she turned to you.

“Oh God… Oh God the baby.” You let out a moan as tears started to fall, you felt the pain coming and going in waves, you looked down and saw a small stream of blood running down your leg.

“Mother, Stop!” Regina shouted and you watched as her magic collided with her mothers. You fell forward now on hands and knees as another pain tore through your body, you felt hands come around your sides and Snow tried getting you up.

“We need to get you out of here,” she let you lean into her and tried guiding you out the door. You reached a hand down brining it up coated in blood, again wincing in pain.

“But…but Regina,” you stuttered out in pain, letting out another moan. Maleficent placed a hand on your shoulder rubbing your arm as you tried breathing through it, “Let me save her for once you get out of here and get help before we have an injured Regina and a premature baby on our hands.” You looked into her eyes and saw she genuinely wanted to help, you slowly shook your head in agreement.

“Please get her back to me, please.”

She shook her head not breaking eye contact, “I promise, on my life.” Snow quickly turned taking you to the car as Maleficent threw her the keys,”I need to call Zelena we need to get you to the hospital.”

“No…” you struggled through another contraction.

“Y/N you’re in premature labor, there’s to much blood.”she tried reasoning with you.

“Snow if you take me all the way there…” you stopped breathing through another searing pain, letting out a low groan. “If we wait this baby won’t make it…God Snow… I won’t make it.” You said through gritted teeth.

“Okay just hold on.” You felt the car lurch forward as she pressed the gas harder.

She quickly rushed you back to the loft and called Emma filling her in, she reached over reassuring you again as you tried breathing in the passenger seat every wave coming stronger and faster. Once in the loft you were laid on Snow and David’s bed, Zelena and Emma quickly ran in the door, Zelena made her way to you. Seeing the blood on your thighs staining the white sheets red as you white knuckled the blankets, Snow brushing the sweat coated hair out of your face.

“What happened?”

“I…” you moaned, quickly being cut off by another pain.

“It was Cora she cast a spell and quick flick of her wrist and then Y/N was bent over in pain and the bleeding started.” She started to explain.

“Oh please don’t let her miscarry.” Snow said worrying.

“Don’t let me lose this baby.” You spoke out through another sharp pain.

“Labor?” Asked Emma looking to a very concentrated Zelena.

“Sort of, by the looks and sound of it mommy dearest used a pregnancy acceleration spell, if done right can work for mother and baby but if done wrong can cause a lot of problems.” Zelena explained, she lifted you shirt and felt your stomach pressing down in a few spots and releasing pressure as she felt the muscles tighten.

“Can you reverse if?” Snow asked concerned.

“I can I need to do it fast, and it will hurt like hell.”

“Will the baby be okay?”

“Y/N but you…” Snow started.

“Will the baby make it?!”

“Yes. I’m not sure the toll it will take on your body.” Zelena explained.

“I don’t care about me, you save this baby, whatever it takes you save my baby, our baby.” She slowly shook her head as you laid back against the pillows, Snow held your hand tightly understanding what could happen, Emma quickly gathered supplies and then came around to your other side, you felt Zelena swirl her hands on your bump, positioning them, you breathed through another pain.

“5 count?” She asked.

“Surprise me.” You let out a nervous breath as she nodded.

“Okay, 1…2…3…” she started before 5 not giving you much time to adjust, the last thing you heard was a bloodcurdling scream, realized it was you and then everything went black.

——— time jump———

You felt lips on your forehead and a hand holding yours, you felt tears as they landed on your hair. Slowly blinking open your eyes you realized it was your wife, she looked unscathed from events earlier. You quickly shot up on your elbows allowing the blanket to fall away revealing your bump, Regina was sitting next to the bed and laid an arm across you lap as you scooted up against the pillows resting her hand on your bump. You let out a small moan feeling the soreness in your muscles.

“Hey,” she spoke gently.

“What happened? Are you okay?” You slid your hand onto her cheek watching her eyes, she leaned into your hand.

“Well Zelena told me what happened, she told me though that you blacked out during the reversal spell.” She avoided the question.

“What happened with your mom?”

“Cora, I don’t consider her family after she went after you like that, Maleficent helped me and she pushed her back through a portal, she fell through with her though, I owe her my life.”

“Me too, how long was I out.”

“Two days, everyone has been asking about you.”

“Mmm, where’s Henry?” You rubbed at your eyes.

“With Emma and Snow and David they went out. Y/N I almost lost you, my love I’m so so sorry.” You watched as tears started to fall and you placed your hand back on her cheek, wiping tears with your thumb, she embraced the touch. You both let tears fall for a moment before she leaned forwards placing a kiss to your lips and then allowing you to lay your forehead against hers, “Y/N I will always fight for you, until I draw my last breath, I love you more than anything and I can’t wait to watch our family grow and I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

“Regina Mills you make me the happiest woman alive, don’t for a minute think that I’ll ever leave you, I love you, besides the ring is already on so it’s going to take a lot more than that to scare me away.” You both chuckled.

Zelena walked down the stairs and turned coming up to you and sitting at the edge of the bed, “So mama, looks like everything went okay, you’re gonna be sore for a little while, and as of yesterday you are officially on bedrest aside from coming in to visit.”

“Thank you Z, for everything.” You gave her a gentle smile.

“Don’t mention it just promise me that you’ll rest up and come back to show me the ropes before you have my niece or nephew.” She winked, patting your leg.

You heard the lock click and watched as the door swung open at first everyone moved in slowly until they saw you, they stood shocked until Henry came running around the corner and jumped on the bed hugging around your neck the best he could with your bump in the way. Zelena took her leave joining the others in the kitchen.

“Mama I thought I lost you!” You hugged him with one arm as tears rolled down your cheeks, Henry has never actually addressed you as mom before. You felt as Regina squeezed your hand and gave you a look, you closed you eyes living in the moment.

“Henry, love you’ll never lose me, I love you little man.” He wouldn’t let go of your neck and then you realized that he was crying, Regina reached around rubbing his back, “Baby it’s okay.” She reassured him.

“I…I…I just thought I lost you, I can…can’t lose both my m…moms, or my little sister I can’t wait to meet he…her” He said through sobs. You both smiled gently at him as he clung around your neck.

“Henry love what if you got a little brother?” Regina asked gently.

“No, I think it’s a girl.”

“Oh okay.” She chuckled looking at you as you held him and rubbed his back.

“I’d say someone agrees with that.” You let out a smirk, Regina looked at you hopeful.

“Really?” You nodded and she moved her hand down feeling as your baby kicked, a tear rolled down her cheek and she leaned up to kiss you.

“I wanna feel.” Henry said turning his head and placing a hand near Regina’s feeling the baby move. He let out a toothy grin making you both laugh at your sons reaction.

He pulled away but only to curl into your side holding Regina’s hand that was spread across your bump, he started talking to the baby, you sat there content knowing that no matter what you were all loved and that you finally had the family you always dreamed of.

#pregnancy #ouat x reader #x yn #regina mills x reader

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