#who got tiny ghost powers

[emacrow]

First, It was Barb was doing night checks on wayne manor cameras surveillance pt 2

Previous post pt 1

She was in a bit of awe when she saw the newest very rare exotic flower Alfred got bloom under the light of the full moon, revealing beautiful crystallized like petals blossom, only for her widening eyes to take noticed of a tiny little pixie like child to pop his little head out of the center of the flower.

His hair was unnatural white fluff like a dandelion in her opinion, eyes glowing an otherworldly green, freckles that sparkle like the stars themselves, ears a bit long and pointy, wearing a odd clothing with a needles strapped to his back, that she could barely catch in camera, the static buzzing sound from her cameras was making it a bit difficult to hear what sound the tiny little fairy boy made as he floated above zooming around the garden a bit like he was excited.

It made barb's inner child squeals, screaming, flipping her tiny princess table at the possibly of Nederland being possible.

Curious little bug, floating around like the fairies in Disney like except of the Glow pixie dust like she seen on the movies, he left a trail of blueish green light that faded away rather quickly with the way he was flying into the slightly opened kitchen's window...

Wait a goddamm minutes..

Barb immediately switch cameras to the kitchen, looking around, only to see it went through the hallway already, switching cameras again, checking the living room, the hallways, only to catch a glimpse of trail glow zooming around.

Crap crap. OK, no need to panic Barb. What do curious pixie like fairies out in the human world.. bring the season right?!, play with children like that Bell fairy did? Finds and take lost things and secretly repair lost things?..! Fairies are weak without pixie dust, they don't live long without it, each fairies has a different part of the seasons, and if you don't believe in them then they immediately die and that cause imbalance in the world without their influence unless you truly believe in fairies to bring back one fairy.(she went through a whole fairy obsession phase as a kid, she still mourns the lost of the create your fairy open world game)

The fairy must've Found a new type of pixie dust to fly without wings if she could recall that one sequel with the new pixie dusts colors thing..?

It was like a game of Where Waldo except where the little mythical fairy boy that couldn't possibly- no no barb don't think about the taboo words, if you think about it and this poor mythical being dies due to your words then the guilt will haunt you Forever.

3 hours in the catch the glimpse of the fairy boy, flying back at to his little flower holding a tiny cube of sugar, a shiny tiny object that she can't get a clear of, and a plump blueberry the size of his little hesr as he lands in the petals that were closing around him. Crystallized back close as if to guard this little fairy being with its own life.

Right when the full moon glimpse was gone out of the sight of the garden from the sky when the smog cloud from the city covering once more.. Barb is writing that down in her notes..

#barbara gordon #dpxdc #dc x dp #danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dc x dp prompt #danny is the ghost king #dcxdp #alfred pennyworth #barb haven't seen a fairy disney movie since she was a kid #tim is going to questioned why barb watching t*nker bell movies series early in the morning at 3am #she have notebooks upon notebooks about fairies and other mythic beings #she having a meltdown and hysterical moment that if fairies are real then unicorns could be real too 🥺 #danny the tiny borrower #who got tiny ghost powers #the trace of ecto makes a buzzing sound when he flies #barb is going down the endless rabbit hole of i do believe in fairies #trying to figure out whom to tell without them saying the words that can kill fairies #she did research on the flower and saw that it was a very nearly extinct delicate flower from an unknown undiscovered island

[dcxdpdabbles]

I love every fic That has Danny still being Phantom even while in the DC universe but sometimes I just want my little guy to flex his intellect and be all around little mad scientist that only sometimes uses his powers to pick up a screwdriver

Danny is smart.

He knows he is brilliant.

He may have been outshined by his family when he was younger, but that was because his focus was on something else, and frankly, being born last into a family of geniuses made one feel like one wasn't as intelligent as them.

He constantly compared himself to them, knowing that they had already achieved what he was doing and falling further and further behind in his self-wellow.

Then Danny left Amity Park and went into the real world.....he found his intelligence got him far. Danny was exceptionally brilliant when he was working on machinery, chemistry, and, above all else, engineering.

Maybe it had something to do with watching his parents repurpose any household item into a completely new technology that affected beings from different dimensions simply because they used math.

Or maybe it was that his brain was always moving, always connecting, and constantly processing. Danny didn't realize that people couldn't just make whatever idea came into their heads a reality.

Hell, his dad heard about Mr. Freeze's ray and he made a copy in two months. Danny made Mr. Freeze's ray in two weeks. He made other ghost tech in that same amount or enough to arm his schoolmates in one afternoon.

The point is that Danny is good at what he does. Put a screwdriver in huis hand, and he be off until whatever hair brain idea he had a physical form.

Everyone in Amity Park knew this as a fact about the Fentons/ Since they moved in, there was nothing but experiments one right after the other. Sure, they wasted it on things like Ecto-studies, but his parents made their money from somewhere before the world learned about ghosts.

Danny's parents had many, and he means many, patents. Everything from a brand of microwaves to vehicle parts.

His parents created them, sold them to partial rights to companies, and then wasted whatever money they got on some new experiment for a ghost that had not yielded any fortunes.

He thought he could do the same. Just apply to anywhere that would take him after creating a portable phone changer on one's wrist. He figured it would have gotten less attention than he did hadn't he just shown up at Wayne Expo as an unknown inventor through his parents contacts.

Danny had felt relatively small with his foldable plastic table and his four cardboard boxes of his invention while everyone had booths and screens, and a few even had prominent speakers with people in suits that cost more than his house

. Danny felt like a little kid trying to sell lemonade in the five-star hotel lobby. Everyone walked right by him without a glance, or they jeered and mocked him.

That was until Bruce Wayne wandered over. Kind and charming the man, maybe he wasn't the brightest- but he stood there listening to Danny excitedly explain how moving the hand on the bracelet caused it to charge, so walking around with it was all the kinetic energy it needed.

His ward- Dick Grayson, in all his tiny ten-year-old authority, had purchased a bracelet from Danny. It had been the only sale he made that night, but it was the only one he needed. Bruce had called him to offer him a position at WE.

Like his parents, Danny enjoyed his freedom, so instead, he offered to be a freelance inventor. He would show the Wayne's first dibs but go where the wind took him. He made them if he found buyers who weren't trying to ice him out of profits.

Unlike his parents, he didn't waste the funds past his travels. Slowly but surely building up a fortune over time.

Danny still went out as Phantom, but over the years he invented random gadgets and chemicals that he would ship to Bruce for a healthy paycheck. Ussually he makes something that the rich man off-handedly comments on.

"Oh Danny, I just loved skydiving, but I'm scared Dick's parachute will get stuck."

Danny invented one with small rocket blasters Bruce could manually control into landing for his son.

"I always enjoy undersea diving. The tanks are a killer on my back. Jason was almost weighted down by them too."

Danny created a breathing mask that had the tanks in smaller easier-to-carry cylinders.

"Tim really loves his computers. Wish I could take the whole thing with me when I go out!"

Danny had a working computer on a heliographic wristwatch the next month.

It was awesome. Danny traveled a lot but always found time to call and speak with Bruce. He got to know the man well over the years, found himself chatting with him for hours, and even spent his visits to Gotham at Wayne Manor as a guest.

Bruce's kids were a riot to be around. He would often go away for a while only to return and find that they had grown in numbers. He loved them like his own and found himself a confidant among the children.

It was he that Dick called to whispers about his insecurity within Bruce's home. He would go to all the gymnastics and mathletes shows he could catch, cheering the loudest among the rich parents as Dick outshone the rest of the children.

Danny had practically flown home to rip Bruce a new one until the man admitted to his gapping son that he had applied to be his father mere months after taking him in.

It was Danny that Jason spoke to when Dick and Bruce's fights were too loud. He would take the boy on trips, and talk for hours about books to calm down, then he had sat Bruce and Dick down to rip another new one.

It was no surprise that Jason had called him when he had tried to run away to confront his birth mother. He had been there to see the bitch arrested before she could hurt Jason.

It was Danny that Tim often sought out to showcase his photos. He always made sure to call the boy right before he was meant to sleep, regardless of which part of the world Danny was on, to wish him goodnight and talk about their days.

Tim always brightened whenever Danny caught his skateboard competitions or club performances. He was the one who found out Tim's biological parents neglected him after the boy told him, and he was the one to help Bruce win custody.

Then came Damian, who was as scared as he was angry. Danny adored him and saw so many ghost-like mannerisms in him that connecting to the boy wasn't hard at all.

Bruce didn't seem to understand that his son was used to outlined expectations and grew irritable when he felt he failed them. He was the one that help Damian get used to his environment and was the one the boy was much more willing to try new things with.

Steph and Danny often got along well with their sense of humor, but mostly she followed him around, seeking approval that likely missed out from her parents. They would sit down and talk about her future and what she wanted in life, and he even let her practice her makeup on him and giggle about boys.

Sometimes, it felt like she didn't have to be the tough girl from the rough part of town. She could be a teenage girl without a care in the world. At least, that's what she claimed Danny made her feel like.

Cass didn't talk much, but she didn't have to for Danny to not see how much she enjoyed their days out, too.

He loved taking her to see the arts, to sit and listen to music together, and most of all, to see her slowly bloom into a sociable young lady so different from the closed-off girl that first arrived at Wayne Manor.

Duke was still relatively new, but Danny could spot the wild, unhinged look in his eye that would have made him a proper Fenton. The two often spent their time playing video games and working in the community together.

Duke seemed to enjoy when Danny invited him to tag along on short trips, especially when the two would go camping. As someone who grew up in the city, he had never been fishing until Danny taught him how to reel in a big one at a lake a state over. The whole Wayne family had cheered the dark skin boy on as he held the trout over his head for the photo.

Alfred treated him like one of the family sometimes meeting up with Danny on his travels for a cup of tea or a nice phone call to gossip about Bruce.

Danny loved it but adored when the Waynes would help with his inventions. Even if all they did was sit in his makeshift lab inside his RV or the west wing of Wayne Manor like Bruce did, having them made his hands fly faster and his calculations sharper.

Sometimes, he caught the strangest, softest look on Bruce's face when Danny would be wielding.

Danny was so used to this lifestyle that he would forget about his ghost powers. It's not like he really needed them.

That came to head when he returned to Gotham on a whim, wanting to surprise Bruce for his birthday by taking the other man out to dinner somewhere fancy he happened to stumble across the scene of Scarecrow holding the Waynes- his Waynes- as hostages at an award ceremony in the new mental hospital they had funded.

Danny hadn't thought.

He saw the Fear Gas vents open and pulled one of his gadgets. He threw it as hard as he could at Scarecrow, watching with satisfaction as it bounced off the manic's head- knocking him out and spinning in place as it activated.

It was a miniature vacuum- meant to gather pollution in the air to hopefully clean up their planet- sucking in all the green smoke before it could harm.

He three out of the other five at the goons that had tried to gas the spectators before, pressing his anti-gravity plates- reversing them to slam the goons into a heap and officially knocking them out.

Danny took down the Rouge in under a minute.

"Bruce! Kids! Are you alright?" He cried rushing the stage to the stunned family. He helped them out of their bonds, gentelly tracing the bruise on Bruce's face with a soft whine. "They hurt you."

"I'm alright, darling," Bruce muttered, leaning into his palm. "I'm better with you here. What was that?"

"Oh just a-"

"Look out!" Dick suddenly screams as a flash of ice comes from nowhere. Danny tucks Bruce onto his chest and rolls away from the ray's pathway. They land with his friend on his back and Danny leaning over him in a protective hunch.

Quickly, he stops his foot against the ice, pressing the heel back and watching bursts of electricity from his built-in tazer race up the ice to the beam of Dr. Freeze.

The man doesn't have time to react before spamming and hitting the ground. Danny scoffs. "Using a ray with a cryogenic laser beam so last season. Invent something new, you one act poney."

Bruce stares up at him with those soft eyes again, and Danny smiles now that he is sure the Danger is gone.

"Is there nothing that mind of yours can't do?" Bruce asks and Danny laughs helping him to his feet as police swarm the place.

"Find me a date, maybe." Danny jokes, "I haven't had one since you took in Dick.""

"Neither has Father!" Damian shouts from behind them. Danny bemussingly watches the young boy march up to gesture at the mortified-looking man.

Despite his father's obvious embarrassment, Damian does not seem bothered to shout for everyone to hear. "He may swing both ways but hasn't acquired a suitable spouse. What says you, Danny? You could assist in correcting this error."

"Sure, I'll take him out." Danny laughs, patting the boy on his shoulder, knowing he hates to have his hair touched. Damian all but melts into his hand like his father seemingly smug. "I know a great club to meet some great people in Metropolis!"

Damian's smug look fades away as Bruce's eyes fall. "I meant for you to be Father's sp-"

"Danny, would you mind explaining those tazer shoes?" Bruce cuts in, throwing a arm over the inventor's shoulder. "They were dazzling!"

"Oh, Bruce, I'm always happy to explain my creations!"

Damian pouts as the two walk away, acting like a married couple to the scattered spectators. If only his Father would just man up and tell Danny that he's practically been his second Father all these years, they need to officiate it.

Tim sighs, placing a hand like Danny did on his shoulder. "It's okay, Dami. This time, we will surely succeed in the Parent Trap plan. Maybe before Danny gets lost in the lab trying to invent a way to warp travel."

"Don't even joke, Tim," Jason says. "Danny would figure that out. He created the Zeta Beams to make it to my senior play. He'll figure out warping if we ask him to."

"Dad's the best," Steph laughs, and they all agree, determined more than ever to make Parent Trap happen.

Master Post Link

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Freelance Inventor #Danny is so smart he casually revolutionizes tech #He's not aware of the Bats #He's still somehow their Dad #And Bruce is in love with him' #The bat kids are going to Parent Trap them #spirit halloween

[radiance1]

The Ghost Prince does not, under any circumstances, answer a summoning after it was made aware he existed. None know why he doesn't, some are bitter and hateful of it while others are thankful that it's one less bloodthirsty manic to deal with.

The Ghost King meanwhile hasn't been seen in multiple eons, so the magical community who wanted to use his power just, stopped, trying to summon him for a long time.

Most magic users knew that the Ghost Prince never answered a summons, and that the Ghost King just dropped off the radar.

So could you really blame Constantine for not taking it that seriously when some wannabe hotshot cultists try to summon both of them in the middle of a city to wreak havoc?

He'll give them some credit though. Points for doing it in broad daylight and actually being somewhat of a threat with not relying on just summoning the Ghost royalty and figuring out what to do from there.

The area they were in was somewhat destroyed, then the cultists manage to complete the summoning circle to summon both of them and Constantine, well he just light up a smoke.

It isn't going to work anyways so what does it matter?

...

Is that a fucking Ice cream truck he hears? Who the fuck is driving an Ice cream truck while their city is being under attacked with cultists trying to summon eldritch ghost royalty?

He'll give them some points for dedication, though.

Then he looked at the cultists and nearly had a goddamn heart attack to see that the summoning circle is actually fucking lighting up and working.

The Bat is so gonna give him a headache over this.

----

Danny Phantom, crown prince of the Infinite Realms. Does not answer summons.

For one, it is annoying as shit, whenever someone interrupts his day just to ask for infinite power (that he can't give), world domination (that he won't do) or infinite riches (which he also can't do).

It just got annoying being summoned all the time so. One day he just, well, no. And hey, it worked out well enough for him to not continue doing it.

Then he also learned that Pariah Dark is basically the same, after he got out the coffin and stopped trying to take over the world for whatever reason. He was actually a pretty swell guy!

He was just with him too, with him being not so swell at the time for making him go through lessons about Ghost etiquette, rules, stuff that's expected of him as the crown prince.

And don't even get him started on the engagement and marriage proposals.

Overall, he just wanted to find an excuse to leave. Then he felt the familiar suggestive pull of a summoning and, instead of rejection as he usually does in a second. He thought for a bit if he wanted to go with that or crown prince duties.

It was tempting, but dealing with cultists seemed worse than this so he was about to reject.

At least, before he heard an Ice cream truck playing in the background. He doesn't even know how the hell that popped up through the pull but by the gods has it been a while since he's had Ice cream.

So he answers and is gone with a pop.

Pariah Dark just stares for a good second or two, before breathing out and deciding to also answer. Fright Knight is just there, off to side, questioning what he should do now.

Danny wastes no time with the cultists on the other side and in fact, he pushes them out of the way and goes diving for that Ice cream truck he hears. Only to realize he doesn't, have any money on him.

Fuck.

Pariah Dark is less inclined to follow the rules imposed by humans like money, but he does know it can be important. Once in a while. Not that often, but it has its times.

So when he sees his adopted son being sad over being unable to pay for some kind of human delicacy, he digs around in his hair (yes, his hair.) and pulls out some money and puts it on the counter as payment.

The man inside the tiny vehicle had shrieked before getting what they wanted. Which is good. Fear is a good motivator, Pariah thinks.

Unknown to him, it wasn't out of fear (Well, mostly) but because the Ghost King placed down a coin made of pure, solid gold on his counter.

The two then go about their business in the human realm, completely forgetting about the fact that they were summoned here for something.

Constantine is both relieved and about to have an aneurysm at seeing Infinite Realm royalty only answering a summon because of Ice cream.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #pariah dark #john constantine #The Ghost King and Prince are known to not answer summons #both for different reasons #But Danny instantly answers one because he heard an Ice cream truck in the background #Pariah followed because he at first wanted to get Danny back to Crown Prince lessons #Only to be swayed by his puppies eyes and the absolute delicacy that is Ice cream #Pariah Dark is stuck in the medieval times in terms of money #He would literally pull out gold coins and pay for shit that way #He is rich rich #Like basically a neigh infinite supply of gold coins he keeps in his hair #Don't ask him how just ghost logic #They then spent the day going around to Ice cream shops and taste testing them #Poor Fright Knight is left alone wondering what he should do #Word spreads in the magical community about this and everyone tries it out #It does work #But if there isn't actually Ice cream you'll have an angry Ghost Prince to deal with #And an angry Ghost Prince leads to a less than cordial Ghost King

[horrorartsworld]

Hi! I’ve read quite a lot of your works and I’ve got to say, you’re a great writer, like oh my god!

I was wondering if you could write a one shot of Alastor with a female reader wife who’s like Beetlejuice? Appearance wise (but more feminine), personality wise and power wise as well. Maybe he hadn’t seen her full power before due to no one chanting her name, but during extermination day, as a last resort, someone does and she kind of just goes full on “beast mode” to protect her husband? What would Alastor’s reaction be? Would he like it?

If you can’t do it, that’s alright! I hope you have a great day! ^^

( ≧ᗜ≦)₊˚⊹♡ OMG NONNIE!! you do not understand how excited i was to write this for you hence beetjuice being one of my favorite movies hehe and thank you so much i hope you enjoy this one !!

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

ghost with the most !

alastor/beetlejuice f!reader

warnings: slight angst, mentions of blood and massacre, some fluff towards the end!!

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

“Wait…sooo you’re telling me chuckles over there has a wife?!” Angel Dust asks his voice raising in disbelief towards the chipper blond in front of him who just so happened to spring this unbelievable information on him.

“Oh sure!” Mimzy raved, with a sort of twinkle in her eye that she only got when she started to gossip. “Under all that creepy and murderous exterior there’s a big ol’ sap! Can’t say I blame him ether — his wife’s a real firecracker! Me and her use to get into all kinds of trouble when we were living!”

She sighs reminiscent on her past looking like she was lost in thought before Angel erupts in bewilderment once more, “There’s no fucking way! I can’t believe i’ve never heard about this…”

Then he suddenly glares at Husk who was unamused by the whole thing. “What?” He huffs with an eyebrow raised, using a towel to wipe off the innards of a dirty glass.

“You knew about this didn’t you…” He eyes him with the worst stink eye making Husk snort, “Listen…I did but that women is bad news and if anyone bothers to say her name three times it’s over…” The cat then places the glass delicately amongst the others before Mimzy gestures for a drink earning a scowl out of him, grabbing the glass once more. “Besides why wouldn’t i know…”

Angel Dust rolls his eyes, resting his cheeks in a pair of his hands taking all this new information in, then sitting up straight again. “Wait? why three times..”

Mimzy giggles delightfully like a toddler clapping her hands seeing Husk place a full glass in front of her. “It’s like her way of a contract honey, to make sure you truly need her when she’s summoned and she’s not all that bad Huskie she’s just a little eccentric and bizarre is all, but truly a fun gal!”

Husk lets out an annoyed huff turning his back to her as she downs her drink in one big gulp with a small hiccup following. “Besides no one’s seen her in years, bless her damned soul…” Mimzy goes back to being reminiscent once more, but this time with a frown forming on her face which was unusual for her.

“Anyways tits, are ya joining us tomorrow? Gonna be a riot.”Angel Dust attempts at changing the subject though he still wanted to know more, seeming that his question somewhat spooked her she started readying herself to leave.

“No, no, no sweetheart! As much as I loooove a good brawl, this one is just not my cup of tea, kick ass though, choa!” And like that the tiny little blonde broad was gone out the door.

Leaving Angel to stew on all this information he just consumed, his eyes then wandering on the grouch in front of him with a smirk playing on his face.

“Wanna fuck before we die?”

“No.”

“Worth a shot.”

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊🪲

On Extermination Day it wasn’t looking so hot for the Hazbin crew.

Each and everyone getting hit down one by one like a domino effect without really too much that they could do about it with their fire power seeming to not be enough like they thought.

Angel Dust looks along the battle field, spotting most of his friends injured or worse and none other than Alastor actually getting his ass kicked. Causing the spider insane amounts of uneasiness, when suddenly an idea clicks.

“Y/n…..,” Angel Dust hesitates thinking back to what Husk said about you and how this could possibly turn out. “Ah fuck it….Y/n! Y/n! Y/n!” He gives in shouting it as loud as he possibly could and within an instant the sky above the hotel swirled in green, causing many sinners and angels to look into the direction of it completely in awe of what it could be.

Alastor holding his chest as the gash across it starts to burn profusely, he notices everyone had stopped for some odd reason making him look in the direction of what had caught everyone’s attention, and if that man’s smile wasn’t permanently on his face already you would’ve saw the biggest grin known to man.

Suddenly a loud noise of a playful accordion rips through the air in a circus theme. ( https://youtu.be/gwsR5gOKK1U?feature=shared sounds something like this if your curious.) “Attention Kmart shoppers!” Your sweet yet sinister voice echoes throughout everyone’s ears with a menacing giggle following. “CLEAN UP ON ISLE SEVEN!! ,” Everyone looks around confused without noticing your form appearing in the middle of a bunch of the Exterminators, Angel Dust finally getting a good look at you causing his jaw to drop. Green hair flowed down your shoulders, a white and black striped dress hugged your body as two large mallets adorned both hands with a mischievous grin that could put Alastor’s to shame, then spinning both mallets around before giving quick blows to each and every dumbfounded exterminator that you saw, leaving an absolute massacre in your wake. Chest heaving with golden blood on your face, when you suddenly notice them, quickly wiping the blood with your striped sleeve and made your way over.

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(dress ref!!)

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

Your green cloud forms behind a unsuspecting Adam with a pointed black nail coming out to tap his shoulder. He looks around aimlessly before facing Alastor once more, and then suddenly a large golf club appears with you on the other end of it with a golfers cap on your head. “FOUR!” Is shouted from your lips as you suddenly swing it with much force sending the douche bag flying lord knows where.

You hold your hand over your eyes pretending you saw where he was going, but then quickly snapped out of it to tend to your lover. “Always know how to make an entrance my dear,” Alastor says rather proud of his wife for being able to keep her cool all while kicking ass. “Oh you know I can’t help myself when there’s a crowd!” You dust yourself off before you do your best to help him up seeing his gash slowly dissipating into nothingness leaving just the rip in his nice dress shirt making you frown. “Awww Al, he ruined my favorite shirt!” You then loose track of what you were upset about and start playing with the hole delicately skimming your fingers across his skin, making him shiver as you made it seem like a mouth making ‘nom, nom,nom’ noises until Alastor cleared his throat.

“Sorry babe..” He chuckles down at you while then patting your head, before you wrap your arm around him taking him back to his friends.

“That’s quite alright…now how about we do some catching up, i want to hear all about your adventures,” He says looking down at you feeling how much he really missed this, missed you, clinging to you close like he never wanted to let you go again while you two walked.

Your eyes light up, bouncing up and down giddily next to him before jabbering on the rest of the way about things like almost getting eaten by a sand worm and practically ruining a recently deceased married couples start on the after life.

And of course Alastor was happy to hear all of it from his precious wife who he adorned and loved very much…

#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings #☆⋆｡𖦹anon’s #☆⋆｡𖦹 alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin imagine #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor

[sguidwards-bestfriend]

Young Old Things

I like the thought of a deaged Dan causing a misunderstanding between Danny, Vlad, and the batfam.

TW: sexual assault hinted at

....

Danny, Dan, and Ellie go to see Jazz in Gotham. They've been waiting to "visit" her for weeks since she moved out. Only waiting for her to get a big enough place for all of them. Danny already said he'd share a room with Ellie and Dan, especially now that they found out if she is her true age she'll start to stabilize more permanently with Danny's ecto. Plus, having Dan be the same size helps, or so she says (he might be desperate for a new family and Ellie is trying to help, Danny and Jazz never bring it up in front of him).

The Fenton parents don't know about Danny being Phantom, instead believing that some big ghostly event caused Danny to have a ghost daughter.

And that he tried to clone himself mixed with a ghost to use that body to stabilize her. They may be proud of their scientist son, they are not proud that he won't let them experiment on his ghostly "creations".

Of course they are entirely wrong:

Ellie is one of Vlads' attempts to clone him, the only one that survived.

And Dan is an amalgamation of Danny and Vlad from an alternate timeline. He doesn't know why he's keeping that from his parents. He owes nothing to that scumbag, but Jazz says many victims try to keep their abusers safe from facing consequences. Before Dan was deaged, and much before he met the Fenton parents, he'd pointed out that he'd be scared who his parents would have chosen to believe too.

Jazz gets a full ride scholarship with Gotham U, the Wayne's new massive donation to the psychology department, as well as her well written letter about being the head of her home, helped immensely.

She felt bad using a slightly blurred version of their story to get a good scholarship, but Danny pushed her to go for it.

Hence her, Danny and his 3 year old "twins" were at a gala for the university.

It was being held in the museum after closing hours. The invitation she got had specified that her brother was invited, each with a plus one.

They couldn't exactly get a babysitter for two super-powered toddlers in the city known for hating metas. Besides it wasn't like they had time to get dates anyway.

The night started out fine. There were scholarship students, student council members, some Gotham U staff, and a few rich folk mingling and eating tiny foods that both Ellie and Dan adored.

Ellie fell asleep in Danny's arms almost the second she'd finished eating, and Dan was overly protective of the both of them as always. Of course the dense crowd and constant noise wasn't helping calm him down.

A Wayne, he wasn't sure which one exactly, had brought Danny a plate of food and sat with him as he tried to distract Dan. At first Dan didn't care for him at all, but he mentioned reading about the constellation on Dan's shirt and he loosened up. He never let go of Danny's pant leg though.

The night turned sour when all three's ghost sense went off. There was no immediate threat, but even the Wayne kid noticed them tense and turned to the hallway.

Dan was the first to spot him. "Vad."

"Bad?" The man mimicked.

"He has trouble with his Ls."

"No! I can say Ellie." Dan huffed, poking the side of her sparkly green shoe.

"Vlad, the guy that walked in." Danny said, decidedly looking down into his daughter's sleeping face, squished into his shirt and drooling.

"Vladimir Masters?"

He nodded, before he could continue however Dan spoke up.

"He is bad. He's the reason I was born. And Ellie too." Dan put himself in front of Danny, his little legs going over Danny's feet like a guard dog.

He could see the Wayne's hands tighten into fists, he tapped the inside of his wrist a bit and watched as he squirmed in his seat.

"Hey, Tim." Another dark haired light eyed Wayne and a girl came up to them. "Who's this?"

"Danny, these are my sibilings. Dick and Cass. Guys, this is Danny."

"Hi, nice to meet you Danny. I'd shake your hand but it looks busy." He gestured towards Ellie. As his hand swept nearer, Dan tried to swipe it away. "Oh, and who's this."

"I'm Dan. You can't touch Mommy." His little face contorted into his best toddler attempt at scaring them off.

"I would never do that. No one here would." Dick said as he crouched down to be eye level with his son.

"He would." Dan pointed at Vlad, all three turned to look at the man. Before anyone else noticed, specifically Vlad himself, Danny pushed his arm down.

"Don't point, it's rude."

"He's a rude butt." Danny laughed softly and Dan continued. "It doesn't mater that I'm half of him, I'll never be evil like him." He yawned and laid his face on Danny's leg.

"I think that's enough signs that we should head home. Thank you for talking with me, Tim."

"No problem, it was m-"

Dan grabbed around Danny's legs and whined "I don't wanna gooOOOooo. I want more of the tiny hot dogs."

Danny looked up to see Vlad infront of the food table. The Wayne sibilings followed his gaze "I'm sorry buddy, but-"

Tim stood up, "I'll get you guys a whole mountain of the tiny hot dogs. Why don't you guys wait for me at the door." Ever so softly he heard Tim whisper, "Go with them." To his brother.

"Where are your things? I'll help you get ready." Dick looked around like he didn't know where the coat closet was. He'd probably been to events like this hundreds of times, but Danny appreciated the sentiment.

"Their stroller is at the entrance, I have to get my sister though."

The girl who hadn't said a word hummed and went off, "Cass can find her, I'll help you and we can meet at the entrance."

"Alright, thank you."

It wasn't until they had both kids in the stroller with their coats on and Dan had a bottle of milk (with a lot of ectoplasm in it) that Danny realized he'd never mentioned who his sister was.

Dick waved towrds the end of the hall and saw his sister and the two Waynes he'd met walking with Brucie Wayne himself.

Jazz looked down and pat Cass' hand. "Thank you for getting me."

"Danger." Her voice was soft, but she didn't seem shy like he had expected.

"All four of you seemed to get along well with my kids. Would you like to come by for dinner next week?" Brucie asked as he looked between the four of them.

"I'd love to!" Jazz said enthusiastically. "Would Tuesday ight work?"

Danny could see the gears start to speed up in her head and he huffed a little. "Jazz, I need to get them in bed."

"Right, of course. Thank you again, for everything."

"Tuesday night works perfectly," Brucie Wayne said with a massive smile on his face, "we'll send someone to pick you up. Have a good night."

With that they walked down the ramp and down a few blocks to their two bed room apartment.

"Jazz," She looked over to Danny, "I think they know more than they are letting on."

She lent over the stroller a bit to check if the kids were asleep, before adding, "I agree, I think there is something up with them, but I don't think they're bad."

"Dan was okay with them mostly, and Ellie was fast asleep even with then around."

"I guess we'll just have to find out, then. Besides, it would be good for you to make friends your age and not at the car shop."

"Yeah, alright."

#dpxdc #writing #deaged Dan #deaged ellie #deaged dani #i prefer ellie using a name thats a little different #like to show she isnt just a clone #maybe one day Dan will do the same #but he has so much he has to work through and i want to see him get to live a happy life #he was created at the worst moment of both Danny's and Vlad's existence #even if he has some memories of what a family was like through Danny. i dont think he sees those memories as entirely his own #mom danny

[evilminji]

Oh shit :D ?

I just remembered! (Thank you, historical fantasy section!) But like? Serving and protecting The King, especially a HIGH KING, is quite literally not just an incredible honor... but it can sometimes be a person's Life Ambition?

Specificly a WORTHY king.

Perhaps they were denied in life. Perhaps they FAILED. And in their dying moments struggle with all they were to LIVE. To PROTECT. Perhaps the PREVIOUS king was a great and worthy ruler... but their heir is...

Unworthy.

Maybe they are born to an age without Rulers. Power shifting between hands in hidden halls. Unclear and murky. All they want is for their loyalty to MEAN something. For things to be SIMPLE.

The universe is large. The Infinite Realms? Unimaginably larger.

And Pariah Dark was a BASTARD.

Who would willingly swear to him? Fools! That's who! Every warrior soul worth ANYTHING gets as far AWAY from his Realm forsaken resting place as they can. Hides. Lest they be dragged in to his infernal, gods forsaken, cess pit of a so called "army"! *disgusted spitting noises*

But what does this mean? It means every trained FIGHTER... got the hell out of dodge. Oh, sure, a FEW refused. Like Pandora and her people. But most? The farthest side of NOWHERE, several layers down! Some still GOING! Better to be decried as cowards then have ANYTHING to do with THAT(said with loathing)!

It also means they weren't where Pariah could get to them when he woke. Couldn't help. Couldn't fight. Couldn't be commanded to kneel. Nothing. They removed themselves completely. Planned on CONTINUING to remove themselves. Preferably to the farthest reaches of forever, far beyond the bastard's gaze.

But! The whole REALM INFINITE felt it? When that... that hissing, acidic, malicious undertone? SLAMS back and away, like somebody's knocked a parasite from their backs. Replaced by coolness and starlight. Delicate balance and blood on your teeth. The pounding in your chest of HOPE.

It flutters so small across their backs, inside their chests. Washing away the old.

The King... feels tiny. Young.

.......what are they doing? Running like this. Hiding away like that will change anything. How long... when did...

There are so many of them now. A veritable army of souls, of all Ages and People's. Every armor and crest imaginable. They'd been so.. so REPULSED by Pariah... nothing else had mattered but to get AWAY. Where even ARE they? What YEAR is it? Does any of that matter?

The King.

Their Obsessions whisper. Loyalty. Service. Protection. Honor. You have left you post! Abandoned your DUTY! What are you DOING!?

They are AGHAST. They turn around at once. The King! How could they have ABANDONED the King!? Who is guarding him if they are all HERE?!

Himself!?

(Yes. Danny is fine. He is eating the "Thank You for keeping us all from dying to whatever the FUCK that was!" tamales Paulina's mom pushed into his arms on his way back home. He didn't even try arguing. He made eye contact and knew he would lose.)

(Why does he feel like something really, really bothersome is headed his way?)

It's UNACCEPTABLE. Unthinkable! The King? Unguarded? Where assassination attempts and nefarious PLOTS could occur?! What if someone tried to steal his eggs!? Or attacked him while his exoskeleton was molting!? They aren't entirely sure which species he is yet, but there are SO MANY NEFARIOUS PLOTS OUT THERE!!

*panicked honor guards*

Just? Imagine becoming king. And thinking "well, aside from the skeleton army I have to figure out, at least I don't have to manage anybody!" Only to *WABAM!* your ENTIRE GHOST COURT shows up like a week later. Turns out they were hiding from your predecessor.

You have a whole ass honor gaurd. Who REFUSE TO LEAVE YOUR SIDE. You have Chefs. Who WILL cry if you send them away. The Literal Best In The Multiverse are all following you around... YOU, a RANDOM TEENAGE, with Excited Shoujo Sparkles in their eyes... because you punched a jackass really, REALLY hard.

There is no way to make this stop. Your friends are laughing at you. The interior decorator wants you to look at swatches. What are swatches and why are you being harrased by them at 1am, you wonder? If you are Mean(tm) they throw themselves upon the floor and blame themselves for their Wicked, Evil, King-Upseting Ways and you can't even TELL if your being played here.

It's like being bullied by house elves. Or Miette.

Your parents are too excited by all the New Research (at least the reveal went well?) To SAVE THEIR SON, and your sister is HELPING THE ENEMY (Traitor!), so now you're being bullied into eating vegetables and studying more.

Then? THEN!! WHO SHOWS UP?! Like... five WEEKS late?! The Justice League. Gee! GREAT RESPONSE TIME, GUYS! Reeeal snappy! But ya, JUST missed the guy!

.......YES HES BEING SARCASTIC!!!

@hdgnj @stealingyourbones

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt

[kaidatheghostdragon]

I want to merge the trope that ghost blobs re basically party snacks with the trope that ghost blobs are special blorbos that other ghosts instinctively protect.

So i propose: symbiotic ghost blobs. When they're strong, they wander around and explore. When they're weak, their ecto changes so they're tasty to other ghosts. The other ghosts then eat them whole, and the blob settles around the ghost's core, semicorporeal, helping to filter ecto in return for taking a small portion of the ghost's strength, as well as benefitting from the stronger ghost's protection. In a few days to weeks, when they are strong enough, they phase right out and reform, off to go exploring again.

The ghost gets a boost in vitality from the blob, as the extra filter makes up for the tiny energy loss. Most ghosts can take on half a dozen blobs at a time, while more powerful ghosts like Danny could easily take dozens, cause thats how many blobs it would take to filter through the large quantities of ecto that they burn through.

Human liminals benefit from one or two blobs. Maybe its borderline required, as humans might not have the faculties to filter their own ecto, and subside entirely on the ambient ecto, which is maintained by the strongest ghost in the area (whoever owns the haunt).

Basically, eating blobs every few days to top off the ones that left is basically equivalent to taking probiotics to help digestion.

So we have Amity Park, maintained by Danny and his small army of blobs that he's constantly rotating though, and Gotham, maintained by Lady Gotham who is overloaded on too many curses to properly filter the city, no matter how many blobs she collects.

Jason is a sick halfa because corrupted ecto, yadda yadda. Only its not "dumped in the lazarus pits and never got filtered," but "gotham is literally so toxic that all of his power goes to filtering and it still doesnt make a dent, so he presents as powerless and possibly hangry." He may or may not know that he's passively absorbing blobs to help filter, or maybe Lady Gotham hoards them all so he has no concept of symbiotic blob relationships.

Or even better, blob ghosts are what the LoA call pit demons. They think the amorphous red-eyed blobs are aggressive because their constantly throwing themselves at the liminal assassins' faces to try to help filter the atrotious ecto. The pits are extremely corrupt because the LoA keeps chasing away and or destroying the blobs.

For extra angst, Jason and batfam are aware of the pit demons and have no reason to believe that the LoA's interpretation is incorrect.

So everyone is suitably horrified when a visiting Phantom brings a legion of blobs (a typical "I come in peace" gift for Lady Gotham), casually snacking on a few of them. Even more so when he offers a few to the batfam, like one would a piece of candy.

#dpxdc #dp x dc

[ohbo-ohno]

run until you feel your lungs bleeding (ghost x reader)

summary: You're on the run after finally escaping from your abusive husband's clutches, hitchhiking south along California highways. A strange man in a black mask picks you up, and it doesn't take you long to realize that not every hand offered should be taken.

word count: 6.5k

cw: dark fic!, noncon somnophilia, referenced abuse from a past partner, ghost does not care about reader's feelings, mentioned drinking while driving but no intoxication

read on ao3 - see the pinterest board

One of your blisters is about to burst. You’d worn through your only pair of clean socks yesterday, leaving the back of your heel vulnerable to your old tennis shoes and their vendetta against your feet. You can feel your skin rubbing thinner and thinner with each step, know it’s only a matter of time before you’ve got blood flowing freely into your shoe. 

You keep your left arm stretched out, thumb held up in the hope that someone will take pity on your limping form and give you a ride.

It’s not likely, you’ve been hitchhiking for days now and not a single person has slowed down. You’ve got no real destination, just a goal of putting as much space between you and your piece of shit ex-husband as possible. Your end goal is Arizona - you’ve got an aunt somewhere in Scottsdale, if you can get to her you can only hope she’ll help you get back on your feet.

A few people honk as they drive by. In the two days you’ve been walking, none have stopped. You take short power naps at night off the side of the road, pray to every god you can think of that you don’t get run over or eaten by something.

You haven’t yet. But you know if you don’t get a good night's sleep soon, don’t start putting actual distance between him and you, then you might not survive your escape.

The sun is at its apex when the semi-truck pulls up beside you. It’s black, the trailer attached is plain white with no logo painted on. You can hardly believe your luck, gape up at the massive thing as it slows. The door pops open a moment after the truck rolls to a stop, but it’s so high up that you can’t see who’s driving past their hand - gloved - before they pull it back.

You don’t have the luxury of asking questions. You just stumble over, flinching back with a little hiss when you place your palm on the metal of the truck and burn your hand. It takes a minute to finagle your way into the truck, but you manage it eventually, huffing and puffing all the way up. 

The first thing you notice about the man in the driver’s seat is his size - he’s big. Bigger than any man you’ve seen before. You just reach his shoulders even with both of you sitting down, his legs are spread so wide his knees nearly rest on his door and the gearshift, his head is close to brushing the roof. He’s just… big.

He’s wearing a black neck gaiter pulled up to cover his mouth and nose, which strikes you as odd considering he’s driving on his own, but you brush the thought off. His hair is blond, greasy and limp on his scalp, you doubt he did more than run his fingers through it getting out of bed. His eyes are blue, a light shade that surprises you for some reason. You don’t know a thing about this man, certainly not enough to be surprised by anything about him, but the blond hair and the blue eyes… it doesn’t quite fit with the black gloves and the mask.

He’s reclined back in his seat, one hand resting on the wheel and the other on his thigh, eyes scanning you like a king his subject. His eyes linger on your tiny shorts (sleep shorts, what you’d been wearing the night of your escape), skip right past the sluggishly bleeding scrapes on your knees and scan your ratty backpack.

You hope he won’t ask you to empty it. You’d like to keep your gun for as long as possible, can’t imagine this trucker would be ok with the hitchhiker he just picked up having a loaded weapon.

He doesn’t speak when he finally makes eye contact with you. You can’t hold it for long at all, only manage a few seconds before you’re glancing around his truck.

He doesn’t speak. Neither do you.

His car reeks of smoke. There’s a beer bottle in his cup holder, open and helf empty. There are more bottles - empty - by your feet. He doesn’t have the radio playing.

When you look back at him, his eyes are already trained on yours. You can’t help but flinch - the intensity of his gaze feels suffocating, even after only a few seconds of being held under it.

You work up the nerve to speak, take a few deep breaths and a few more long looks around the truck, the space this man spends most of his days in.

There are cigarette stubs on the dashboard, which has clearly been used as a makeshift ashtray. The seats are old, the leather peeling and tempting you to pick, and the dash itself is sunbleached.

“I’m trying to go to Arizona,” you finally say, flickering your eyes quickly to his and away again. His jeans are worn - but naturally worn, like he’s had them for months and washed them so many times they’ve lost their color. “Are… are you heading that direction?”

You look at him long enough to see him incline his head a bit. You don’t think he’s blinked since you got in the car.

“Goin’ south,” he affirms. His voice is a low grumble, British accented. Not necessarily unsurprising to hear in California, but a shock from a truck driver. “I’ll drop you somewhere along the way.”

He pulls away from the shoulder with that and turns away from you, apparently finished with the interaction. 

Being dropped somewhere along the way isn’t necessarily your ideal situation, but your feet scream in relief at the lack of pressure, so you’re certainly not going to complain.

You shift a little further back in your seat, tuck the backpack between you and the passenger door. He could reach it if he wanted, but keeping yourself between this stranger and your prized possessions feels like the right choice. You think about propping your feet up on the dashboard, but decide you don’t want to seem too rude to your apparent savior.

You look out the window. You’ve never been in a car this high, and even the flat California highways look more interesting at a new vantage point. It’s easier to focus on the far-off mountains than the giant beside you.

“So,” you cough lightly, awkward in the relative silence of the truck. The engine is loud, but the driver’s radio is dead silent. “What’s your name?”

He grunts, gives no other response. You glance over to him, a little unsure of yourself. Had you made that bad of a first impression somehow?

He doesn’t turn to you, and he doesn’t answer your question.

Alright, you tell yourself. Maybe he does this all the time, maybe he’s tired of making small talk with homeless and desperate hitchhikers. That’s probably it.

You don’t give him your name. Instead, you tuck your feet up to the seat beneath your thighs, turn your body fully to the passenger window, fold your arms on the windowsill and lay your chin on your elbows.

The drive is smooth enough for you to relax, even though you know that logically you shouldn’t. You’re a young woman who’s just gotten into a car with a strange and intimidating man who could very clearly physically overpower you. Nobody knows where you are. You should have a hand on your gun already, ready for anything the driver might try.

But you’ve been walking for days, and hadn't been sleeping well before that either. You haven’t had a good night’s sleep since your wedding night. The low rumble of the engine, the heat of the sun beaming through the glass, the surprisingly gentle motions of the truck…

You don’t quite let yourself fall asleep, but it’s a near thing.

———————————————————————

The two of you stay like that for hours. Your benevolent driver seemingly comfortable in his silence with you drowsy and relaxing in his passenger seat. You don’t stay in the same position for more than an hour or two at once, shifting your legs and always keeping any pressure off your feet.

You’d like to pull your shoes off, to ask if the man has any band-aids. Maybe any food, any water. But you can’t risk pissing him off, not when your other options are nonexistent. So you settle for slow movements, trying to keep your blisters from being irritated.

He finishes his beer before the first hour has passed with you in his vehicle. Waits another two to have a second. You don’t comment on it, but the scent makes your lip curl, and you bury your face in your arms to hide the reaction. You hope he’s not a lightweight. And despite the heavy stench of cigarette smoke sunken into the interior, he hasn’t had one yet. 

He’s the one who speaks next.

It’s a quarter until 6, and the sun has started her slow journey to sleep. You’ve been watching the sight for a while, entranced by the slow process with nothing else to amuse you.

“Pullin’ off,” he grunts.

You can’t help but jerk up straight at the sound, caught off guard. You’d nearly forgotten about his accent, about how deep his voice really is.

“For gas?” You ask, turning in your seat to glance at him for the first time in at least an hour. He only grunts again, a noise you’re just going to assume means yes. 

“Alright,” you nod, letting your feet drop to the floor from where you’d crossed them beneath yourself. “Are you… do you want me to find someone else to ride with?” You cross your fingers where you tuck them beneath your thighs, pray to every god you know of that he doesn’t make that yes grunt again.

He looks over to you this time, and the two of you make eye contact for the first time since you’d gotten into the car nearly six hours ago. His eyes are brighter than you remember, and the impact of them sends a jolt up your spine.

You’re not sure how long he looks at you. You feel stuck under his gaze, a little wide-eyed prey animal spotted by a predator who can only lay still and hope they move on. You’ve never felt quite so pinned before, quite so unable to break eye contact. You don’t think you like it.

He looks away first, shifts in his seat and drops one hand from the steering wheel to lay on his thigh. You swallow at how tight his jeans are, how his thighs seem to nearly bulge from them. 

“No,” he finally answers. It takes a moment for you to remember your own question, but your sigh of relief is loud once you do.

If you’re lucky, he’ll try and drive through the night. Dangerous, since it’ll make for nearly twenty-four hours on the road, but you’d rather take your chances with him than falling asleep at the wheel then spend another night staring into a dark forest and wondering if there are wolves in this part of the country.

He turns off the highway three exits later, pulls his truck into the first reststop. It’s the only structure in the nearby area, a McDonald’s-Subway-Shell mix with ten pumps, less than half with someone using them. It’s the kind of rest stop you’ve seen on countless roadtrips, one that you know exists off half the exits in the States. The familiarity of it makes your lips twitch up in the corners.

There are several other semi-trucks pulled up getting gas, none quite the size of your driver’s. He parks quickly and easily, in one try, and turns the truck completely off. You shift a little in your seat, unsure what he’ll want from you, but he’s hauled himself up and out of the truck before you can open your mouth to ask.

You settle a bit. He’d said he wouldn’t make you leave but you still can’t fully relax for some reason, can’t bring back the looseness to your shoulders you’ve had since he picked you up. You entertain yourself by watching a middle aged couple try and wrangle six kids that look like they’re all under ten, since I’m sympathy when the littlest one’s face goes red and he starts to wail.

The door next to you opens without warning. You manage to catch your bag before it can go tumbling out of the car, can’t hold back the little yelp of surprise. Your eyes are wide, fingers holding tight to the bag, when you look up through your hair.

The driver’s face looks the same as it has for the last six hours - expressionless. Even with the mask, surely his eyebrows should move at least a bit? He looks almost like a corpse above you - pale face and flat features. It unnerves you. 

“Gettin’ food. You got money?”

You hesitate for a moment - you do have money, small bills you’d snuck from your husband’s wallet that you’d planned to use for a bus ticket. You’re not starving yet, the few granola bars you’d taken in your escape will tide you over for a little while longer.

You shake your head.

He nods, like he’d expected that, and glances over your form from head to toe again. “Alright. You want somethin’ to eat, now’s your chance. We’ll be back on the road for another few hours before I stop for the night.”

With that he turns away, jumps down to the parking lot and stalks off toward the McDonald’s. It takes you a minute to follow him, still a little shocked that you’d gotten multiple sentences from him at once.

The thought of free food is far too tempting to let you linger for too long, though, and you’re throwing your bag over your shoulders and scampering after him only a moment later. You have to trot a little awkwardly to keep up with his long strides. He doesn’t hold the door open for you, but you catch him glancing over his shoulder to see if you’re there.

The teenager working the register looks like it’s their first day, and you assume a middle-aged man leaning against the counter beside her is meant to be showing her the ropes. He’s far more occupied with whatever’s on his phone screen, leaving the cashier to stare up at your driver with wide eyes.

You get it. Standing next to him now, you decide he’s not big - he’s huge. Has to be at least six and a half feet tall, and at least a foot taller than you. Combined with his muscular form - another odd thing for a truck driver - and his all black attire, he seems almost like some sort of monster or omen come to warn about the future.

You step up to the counter beside him, give the cashier your best reassuring smile when she glances at you. It gives her enough courage to stumble over, “Welcome to McDonald’s, what can I get you today?” after only a few stuttering starts. You’re quite proud of her.

“Five Big Macs and fries. No drink.” The man rumbles, his mask umoving. He glances down at you, finally cocks an eyebrow (an expression!) for you to order.

“Uh, just… just ten nuggets for me,” you smile at the cashier, glance up at the driver to make sure you haven’t somehow ordered too much. “And, uh, a Coke?”

“Will that be all for you today?”

“Make it a twenty nugget meal,” your partner corrects, then pulls a worn leather from his back pocket and pays with a shiny card. You can’t help but eye the many bills folded neatly in the wallet.

“Thanks for the upgrade,” you say as the two of you slide onto a pair of stools to wait for your food. “I really appreciate it. I, uh, I can’t pay you back, though.”

He glances at you again, holds you pinned under his gaze and kicks your heartbeat up a few notches. It becomes a conscious effort to keep your breathing steady when he spreads his thighs enough to brush against yours. 

“Don’t worry about it.”

Your meal is largely silent. He all but inhales three of his five burgers, leaves the other two wrapped up presumably for later on the drive. You try and eat all of your nuggets and fries, but your granola bar diet of the last few days means your stomach feels stretched to his limit only a few bites into the meal.

After your fifth nugget, you tuck the little box closed. Shift towards your driver and glance up from the window you’d been staring out to see him already looking down at you.

You clear your throat, take a little sip of your Coke. “I’m done.”

He shakes his head once, reaches forward to pop the little box back open. “No, you’re not. We’re not getting back on the road ‘til you eat at least half.”

You can’t help but blink in surprise at him, not moving to take any more food. He won’t tell you his name, won’t make any small talk whatsoever, but he will worry about how much you’re eating?

He grunts when you don’t make a move to listen to him, pushes the little brown box closer to you. “C’mon. Eat.”

You get through another five under his eye. He doesn’t look away from you, and now you know about the stare. It feels heavier now, like every little twitch from you is catalouged by him. It makes every bite difficult to swallow.

He nods when you tuck the little box closed again, glance a bit wearily at him to make sure he’s content now. He picks up your tray, tucks his two sandwiches in one hand, and leaves. You scramble to keep up.

His strides are a little shorter in the parking lot this time, and the slower pace keeps your blisters from further irritation. You’re not sure it’s intentional, but you’re thankful nonetheless.

The truck is still difficult to get into, but the worn leather seats are a familiar comfort now. This time, your driver flicks on the radio as he pulls out of the rest stop.

For some reason, you feel like maybe he likes you. There’s something in the line of his body that feels a little softer now, the tension in the truck feels a little drained. It could be the music, but you prefer to think that he’s taken a bit of a liking to you. It means he’s less likely to end up hurting you, means you're less likely to have to rely on your non-existent shooting skills.

With the sun nearly fully set and the soft music from the radio, it’s much harder to keep yourself awake. You curl up in the seat, lay your head down on folded arms, and try your best to keep your eyes open.

———————————————————————

You don’t know how long it’s been when you wake up.

The truck is silent now, no engine and no radio, and the world outside is pitch black. You jerk up at the realization, quickly lay a hand on your bag and turn to your driver.

He’s staring at you. You nearly yelp in surprise, bite your tongue so harshly to keep the noise back that you taste the tang of iron.

He looks nearly inhuman in just the low light of the truck. Pale skin, blonde hair, blue eyes, a dark black mask obscuring half of his face. His body is turned towards you, black shirt and dark pants making him look almost like the top half of his face is just… floating. 

“I need to sleep,” he rumbles, keeping you held captive in what almost feels like a staring contest - like if you look away now, you’ll lose something. “You can take the bed in the back.”

That gets your heartbeat quickening, the thud of your pulse loud in your own ears. “Oh… I thought…” you swallow, finally tear your eyes from his to look around. You seem to be at another rest stop, this one a small dark building with two bathrooms and a few vending machines. There aren’t any other trucks parked around you. “I thought I might try and find a motel or something.”

“With what money?”

He’s got you there. You work your tongue against the roof of your mouth, clear away the blood and try to make your mouth not so bone-dry. “Yeah,” you nearly whisper, eyes darting back to his before away again. He hasn’t moved. You clear your throat before speaking again. “But, uh, I don’t want to kick you out of your bed. I can sleep up here.”

“You’ll take the bed,” he reaffirms, with no room for argument in his tone. You can’t help but feel like there’s something more here, like you’re missing something. You don’t feel safe anymore, not like you had after the McDonald’s. Why did you let yourself fall asleep? You could have pressured him to pull off somewhere with a motel, tried to finagle or scam yourself into a room with a lock on the door.

Now you’re stuck in this dark truck, no one else but the driver around for miles.

You swallow again, force down a cough.

You don’t want to sleep in his bed. But a glance over at him tells you that’s what’s going to happen. Your driver doesn’t seem the kind of man to take kindly to disobedience.

“What’s your name?” You ask again, voice weak and quiet. For some reason, this feels important. Like a name will make him more human, easier to swallow.

He only tilts his head a little, face still stoic. “Get in bed. We’ll drive again when the sun rises.”

“Please,” you try, a hint of desperation creeping into your voice. You can’t explain it, but you need his name. Need some evidence that he’s more man than he looks. This moment feels pivotal, and there’s a little voice screaming at the back of your head that things are going in the wrong direction.

“Sleep, doll,” is all he says. His voice isn’t softer, but it’s quieter, like maybe he understands the fear coursing through you.

You squeeze your eyes shut a moment before pushing yourself up, both hands holding onto your bag - your literal only possible defense againt this man - like a lifeline. You know they’d shake if your grips was any looser.

It’s too dark to make out much in the back of his cabin. The bed is a decent size for you, but you wonder if he’s able to stretch out fully on it. You think you can see the outline of a minifridge and a few books resting on the floor. 

He’s still watching you as you sit on the bed, his body unmoved but his head turned towards you. You try to keep your breathing steady as you toe your shoes off, tuck your feet up to the bed with you and curl up on your side.

The bag doesn’t leave your arms. His eyes don’t leave your form. He makes no move to stretch out and sleep like he’d said he would.

You force your eyes closed, no matter how wrong it feels. You try and will yourself to sleep, tell yourself everything will be fine. If he tries anything, you’ll shoot him.

You can still feel his gaze on you when you finally slip into unconsciousness.

———————————————————————

You wake slowly to movement behind you. 

You blink heavy eyelids open, let them fall shut again when there’s no difference in what you can see.  You feel cloaked by sleep still, like your brain has been held underwater and everything moves a little slowly, a little muffled.

The bed dips behind you, and there’s a warmth behind you. A hand at your waist. The top of a foot against the sole of yours. A chest against your back.

Your eyes stay closed, but your brows furrow a bit. Your husband has always hated the idea of cuddling, slept like a corpse on his back and berated you if you dared to touch him in your sleep. You nearly roll over, but figure that might set him off. Your arms still ache from the last argument you’d had.

The hand slips beneath your shirt, rough palm against your waist, thumb smoothing in little circles.

That catches your attention, too - your husband’s hands are soft. He’s never done a day of work in his life, the only job he’s had is some fake title made up by his father at his company. The hand on your skin isn’t soft at all, it’s rough with big, thick fingers that rest heavily on you.

The realization comes to you in pieces.

Your master bedroom was never this dark, the large windows always left wide open to allow moonlight into the room. Your ex-husband’s hands are smooth, boney and nearing on frail. The foot brushing against yours triggers a burning sensation in your blisters.

You keep your breathing even - an effort that feels impossible. 

It’s not your husband at your back, it’s the truck driver.

He’s silent as he tucks himself fully to you. His breath is damp against your neck and you fight down a shudder at the sensation. 

Your bag isn’t in your arms, which means you don’t have your gun. Whatever happens, whatever he does to you, you have no way of defending yourself.

The only reason you don’t cry at the thought is because you don’t want him to know you’re awake. It’s pure self-preservation that keeps your breathing even, your limbs loose, and your breathing slow.

He brings his head closer, his breathing loud in your ear. Every part of him is pressed against you, and you can’t help squeezing your eyes shut more tightly at the hardness poking into your back.

He’s silent as he sets his chin over your shoulder. His groin is tucked right beneath your ass, his knees behind yours and his feet benath yours. He’s just… spooning you.

It feels like an eternity passes just like that. Your heartbeat pounding in every bone, the heat of the driver’s body against yours. His breath is the only noise you hear, ghosting over your ear, heavier than your own.

Eventually, he starts to move. You almost whimper when you realize what he’s doing. 

He’s humping you.

His movements are slow at first, just a little rock of his hips against you. But as the minutes pass he becomes more incensed, his thrusts harder against you, his breathing heavier. He grunts at one point, and it takes everything in you not to flinch away.

You want to scream. You want to open your mouth and shout, to roll over and make him stop.

But you don’t have your gun. And he dwarfs you, every inch of your back covered by him and then some. You can’t stop him.

So you let it happen. You keep your eyes screwed shut, try desperately to go anywhere else in your head and pretend you don’t feel how quickly his hips begin to rock.

His hand moves from your hip to your stomach, his pinky resting on the waistband of your sleep shorts. You don’t think you could stay quiet any longer if his fingers slipped beneath the hem, and you let out a near silent breath of relief when his palm continues up instead of down.

He almost rolls you onto your stomach, angles you so your front is closer to the mattress and he can grind more on you than beside you. His hand slips further up your shirt, and you bite your tongue at the feeling of his rough palm against your nipples.

That gets another huff from him, another low sound that could almost be a moan. You feel him shift again, his hips working a little more roughly. You’re not sure how he possibly thinks you’re still asleep, but you pray he doesn’t take it any further as long as he does.

He doesn’t pinch, just softly strokes over one breast. His hand engulfs it fully, fingers wrapping all the way around the little mound of flesh. The calluses on his palm send little sparks down your spine, and you curse your body for the buzzing sensation between your thighs.

His breath gets heavier in your ear, he’s nearly panting over you. If you weren’t wearing shorts and he wasn’t wearing jeans, he’d be fucking you. His thrusting almost feels like he is. The… thing grinding against you is clearly large, even through all the layers of clothing, and you say another prayer that he doesn’t do more than this.

“Fuck,” he grunts, his chin pushing hard into your shoulder. You almost jerk at the sound of his voice, the evidence that this is real and not some horrible nightmare. 

You wish you could fall back asleep.

You don’t know how long the whole thing lasts. The pitch dark, the driver’s oppressive weight against you, it makes time feel liminal. You’re not sure if he lasts for five minutes or five hours.

But eventually his hips slow, give a few harder thrusts before he goes completely still and lets out a loud groan. Again, you wonder how he expects you to have slept through the noise. 

He shifts back a little in the aftermath, rolling you back to your side with a heavy hand on your stomach. You try to keep yourself as limp as possible, try to make your face go slack.

He lays with you for a while, breathing even and slow. You wish he would leave, wish he would let you start pretending this never happened. His hand stays on your stomach, and you can feel the other crossed over his midsection at your back. His feet hold your ankles to the bed. You hope he can’t feel that you’re squeezing your hands into tight fists where they rest against your thighs.

He doesn’t leave. Instead, he shifts his own thick thigh between your own, the rough denim of his jeans irritating the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. He tucks his leg up, settles it right against your core.

You can’t help the way your breath hitches at the sudden pressure. You hold it immediately after, then try to breathe normally again when you realize how obvious the sudden change sounds. He doesn’t react, though, so you think you’re safe. 

The pressure increases a bit more before stopping. You’re almost propped up on his thigh, your pussy pressed against him through your shorts. It’s hard not to open your eyes, to look down and see what’s happening.

His hand slips down from your stomach to the waistband of your shorts. You can’t keep yourself from moving this time, already knowing what he’s going to do. You shift your hips a little, make a tiny noise in your throat that you hope comes off as a normal still-asleep sound. The movement only presses you closer to him.

He hums lowly in your ear, fingers stroking across the waistband of your shorts before dipping inside, then past your little gray panties. You can’t help the little squeak you make, the way your hands twitch before you force them still.

The sound he makes is almost a laugh, too low and quiet to really be one though. He hushes you softly, pushes on the meat of your most vulnerable part to still you. 

You don’t know if he thinks you’re awake. You think he must, there’s no way you could have slept through what he’d just done, and you’ve moved twice now. But he doesn’t speak to you, doesn’t become more aggressive.

You debate putting up a fight when his fingers sink lower, his palm resting heavily over your cunt. But the thought of him becoming rough, of him restraining you… it makes bile churn in your stomach.

You resign yourself to waiting until it’s over, go limp against the bed again.

Another hum, and his free hand moves beneath your body to grasp your hip. He moves you slowly, little grinding motions over his thigh. The hand over your heat uses two fingers to spread the lips of your cunt, tucks the gusset of your underwear and the fabric of your shorts to the side so your clit makes direct contact with his jeans.

You keen quietly at the sensation, a little animal noise of fear, of pain. You wish you had your gun, wish you could make this man stop.

But you can’t. So you bear it.

He doesn’t touch your clit with his fingers, doesn’t touch any part of your pussy but to spread you wide. His thigh moves along yours, his hand grinding you against it. You hate the slickness gathering at your hole, hate the way your nipples tighten, the way your breaths become heavier.

You bite your tongue to hold back any other sounds, that tang of blood returning after only a few seconds.

“C’mon,” he says into your neck, his voice a low whisper. “Come f’r me, doll... be good.”

You don’t want to be good, can’t suppress the little whine you make at even the thought. He rumbles low in his chest in response, pushes against you a little harder.

You can’t stay quiet through your orgasm. It’s a slow thing, rolling and deep. You feel it in your toes, in your scalp, and in every vein between. Had you been willing, been with a partner of your choice, you may have thrown your head back and cried out. But here in the truck, with this man you can’t believe you were stupid enough to trust, you squeeze your eyes so tightly shut that tears eek out the corners and bite your cheek until there’s a sore. And still, a moan vibrates in your chest.

He stops grinding you against him when your orgasm is finished. His finges slip from you slowly, tuck your panties back over your mound and give you two little pats before he fully pulls his hand away. 

Both of his hands slip back up your stomach, grab a handful of your chest and massage you there for several moments. Your breathing gradually slows as your body comes down, your limbs going limp again despite the fact that his hands are still on you.

He rolls you to your back when he’s finished. You feel his lips press against each of your eyelids, squeezed shut no matter how hard you try to force your face to relax. Another tear slips down the side of your nose, and he kisses it away before it can reach your lips. You feel his tongue stroke beneath each eye, know that he’s cleaning away your tears. He gives you a final, chaste kiss on your lips before pulling away.

He’s gone a moment later, and you’re left cold and alone in his bed.

———————————————————————

He smokes a cigarette while he watches you sleep. Your nose twitches at the first hint of smoke, and he almost smirks at the expression.

He can’t believe he found you. A perfect little doll of a girl, limping all filthy and sad along the side of a highway, just waiting for someone to scoop you up. God truly does have a sick sense of humor, gifting a bastard like Ghost a gift like you.

He hadn’t planned to keep you at first. He figured he’d ride with you for a while, fuck you a few times to have a warm place to dump his cum before dropping you off at a rest stop for another driver to scoop up. But no, that won’t do now that he’s felt your cunt against his hand, watched you try desperately to hold back every expression because you thought it might keep you safe.

He’ll have to find out where the finger-shaped bruises on your arms are from. After this trip, he’ll find whoever left them and take care of them. He’ll be the only one hurting his little doll, no one else. Might even win him a few brownie points with you, if he’s lucky.

Your feet probably need bandaging, too. He’d seen the redness at the back of your ankles when you tucked your feet up on his seats, felt the blisters against his own feet when he laid with you. He’ll make sure you stay off your feet for a bit, give them time to heal.

That gets another smirk. You won’t be leaving the truck for a long time, there’ll be no need to worry about your blisters after tonight. He’ll keep you off your feet. Maybe have you thank him for taking such good care of you.

He’ll try your mouth next. He bites back a moan imagining your face pressed against his crotch, knows already that the difference in size between the two of you will be absolutely pornographic at that angle. Can’t wait to teach you to deepthroat him, salivating at the image of you holding him in your mouth on the road.

He’d already wasted one load, it’s only right you take the next. You’re his now, which means he shouldn’t have to come in his fucking pants like a teenager ever again. 

But he’d gone easy on you, hadn’t made you take him in any of your holes this first night. Even let you pretend to sleep through the whole thing, though your shifting hips and little scrunched up face gave you away as soon as he pressed himself against you.

It was endearing, really, the way you tried so hard to pretend it wasn’t happening. He can still taste your tears on his tongue, mixing with the acrid taste of nicotine. He can’t wait to learn what your pussy tastes like.

He takes a long pull from the cigarette and considers your little shaking form.

You won’t need much now that you’re with him. Only a few outfits in case he needs to bring you in somewhere, but you’ll be kept naked when in his truck. He’ll have to find a motel sometime soon, get all the grime washed off your skin and the grease out of your hair. He’d like to see it brushed out, see how you might style it for him.

He’ll take good care of you. Feed you when you’re hungry, maybe get some little toys or books if you’re good, fuck you whenever you - or he - needs it. 

It’ll take a while for you to settle, he knows. You’ll spend a bit looking for that girly little gun you’d been keeping tucked away in your bag. But that’s okay. He already knows he’ll enjoy training you, showing you just how to be the perfect little doll for him.

He stubs the cigarette out in an ashtray, climbs back into bed with you and tucks you tight to his chest. Your little sniffling breaths draw another little twitch of the lips from him, and he buries his nose in your hair before shutting his eyes.

Yeah, you're going to be perfect for him.

#cod #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x reader #bo writes #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost riley x you #dark fic #cod x reader #ghost cod #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic

[qtboni]

╰﹒ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄 !

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

OVERVIEW: Despite Simon's difficulty in expressing his emotions, he still finds ways to show his love for you.

C/W: Entirely fluff + kisses, don't worry.

W/C: 1.3k bubs

Little gestures demonstrate Simon's deep affection for you.

So it's not unusual for you to find a steaming hot coffee sitting on top of your desk, with a sticky note on it, greeting you a nice 'Have A Great Day,' and an affirming 'I Love You.' message at the end.

This small but meaningful gesture of affection is one of the many ways Simon shows you how much he cares, even when he struggles to express his emotions verbally. It's a small but powerful reminder that you matter to him and that he's always thinking of you, even while pursuing his calling as a soldier, as a lieutenant.

Regardless of the day or circumstances, you can always count on this tiny but thoughtful act of kindness from Simon.

You set the coffee cup down, feeling warm and cared for by the lovely gesture. And as you start your day, you can't help but feel grateful for his presence in your life. Even when he's not physically present, you know that his love is always with you, and that's more than enough.

So you smile, take a deep breath, and start your day with a clear mind and a full heart, knowing that you're one of the lucky ones who has a partner that cares so deeply.

You have Simon, and that's more than just a sticky note with a sweet message - that's true love, and it's something you cherish every day.

As you take another sip of the coffee, you look up and see Simon standing in the doorway, a sheepish look on his face. "Hey," he whispered.

Today was one of the days when Simon got to escape the monotony of daily military duties and just relax at home with you. He had traded in his usual military fatigues for a cozy black t-shirt and sweatpants, giving him a chance to take it easy. He even left his famous skull mask and balaclava behind, a sign of just how much he trusted you as his significant other.

Instead of the formidable Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley, the fearless soldier, here you saw a soft-spoken Simon, your Simon, who had let down his guards and chosen to be vulnerable with you. It was a moment of pure intimacy between the two of you, a precious break from the chaos of the world outside.

"How's the coffee?" He continued, his voice tinged with hesitation. "Is it to your liking?"

"Of course it is," you reply, smiling at him. "I always appreciate it when you take the time to do something like this for me."

It's a small thing, but it means a lot.

Simon's face lights up as you speak, and he takes a step forward, reaching for your hand. You can see the love in his eyes, even though he isn't always the best at showing it with words. "I'm glad you like it," he says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You feel your heart swelling with emotion, and you lean forward to give him a kiss. "I love you, Si'," you whisper. "And I appreciate everything you do for me. Thank you."

With a smile on his face, Simon leans into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close. You both savor the moment, savoring the warmth of the coffee, the love that you share, and the comfort of each other's arms.

As you slowly pull away, Simon looks into your eyes, his expression softer and more open than usual. You can see the gratitude and affection in his eyes, and you feel a warmth in your chest that you've never felt before.

"I love you too," he says, his voice low and earnest. "I don't know how I'd get through life without you by my side."

You smile, feeling a swell of love in your heart. Simon takes your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, and for a moment, you both just stand there, basking in the warmth of each other's presence.

It's a small moment, but to you, it's everything.

After sharing another smile, Simon goes back to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee as well. The sound of the refrigerator opening and closing fills the room as he takes out the creamer.

"Sugar?" Simon asks with a grin, gesturing towards the sugar jar.

"Yeah, just a pinch," you reply with a smile.

Simon adds a little bit of sugar to your cup and then to his. As the steam rises from the hot coffee, Simon takes a sip from his cup and lets out a satisfied groan.

"Ah, that hits the spot!" he says with a smile.

You also take a sip of your coffee and let out a contented sigh. "It's perfect, as always," you say, looking up at Simon.

"Thanks," he replies, smiling back at you. "I just wanted to show you a little extra affection this morning." He shyly averts his gaze from yours, blushing as he do so.

"Well, it definitely wasn't necessary, since you always make me feel loved and appreciated," you say with a smile. "But it was still a really sweet gesture, means a lot to me."

Simon nods and takes another sip of his coffee, seemingly lost in thought. "I just... I know that I'm not always the best at showing you how much I love you with words," he says after a few moments. "So I wanted to do something to make sure you know that I care."

"Simon," you say, putting your cup down on the table. You walked up to where he was standing and cupped his face gently, caressing as you do so. "You don't need to worry about that. I know that you love me. And as much as I love those little notes and gestures, it's the everyday things that you do that show how much you care. Like making me coffee in the morning... you're always there for me, no matter what. And that means more to me than anything else in the world."

Simon looks at you with a soft smile on his face, his eyes shining with adoration. And for a moment, you both just sit there in silence, basking in the comfort and warmth of each other's presence.

Simon takes a deep breath, feeling the warmth from your hands and the love in your words. He looks into your eyes and sees the love and gratitude that you have for him. It makes him feel like the luckiest man in the world, to have someone like you by his side.

"You're everything to me, you know that?" Simon leans in and gives you a gentle kiss on your forehead. It's a soft, sweet kiss, filled with all the love and affection he has in his heart. In that moment, you both know that you're exactly where you're supposed to be.

With a soft smile on your face, you lean back, feeling the warmth from the coffee cup in your hands and the warmth from Simon's love in your heart. It's a moment of pure contentment, a reminder of just how fortunate you are to have each other.

You pecked his cheeks so softly, and Simon can't help but feel a sense of warmth and comfort wash over him. Your kind words fill his heart with joy and he appreciates the love and support you provide him on a daily basis.

He knows that he doesn't always show it, but being able to show himself in this vulnerable state makes him realize just how lucky he is to have you in his life.

You make him feel safe, loved, and appreciated, and he is so grateful for it. You are his everything, and he can’t imagine living his life without you. "Thank you for being my person, my love. I love you."

A/N: Here is my take on a cod character! I know it's not the best and I might've made simon kinda ooc, but I just couldn't help but to have a softy Simon Riley today ><

#👾 — [bonnie’s wk] #i wrote this at like 3am and #im crying vz this made me reazlize i cant have a simin irl 💔 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #ghost x reader #ghost cod #tf 141 #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod x you #mw2 x reader #simon riley #simon riley x y/n #call of duty

[satoshy12]

Kryptonian Danny Ghost Phantom

Danny Fenton's life takes an unexpected turn when he's accidentally exposed to a Kryptonian artifact while in the Ghost Zone. The Kryptonite radiation triggers a transformation in Danny's human DNA, turning him into a half-Kryptonian/Ghost hybrid.

It was Frostbite who told him he wasn't human anymore but an Alien. Danny didn't seem to have much of a problem with it he was already a Halfa; and it was pretty cool to now be an Alien!

But he struggled to control his newfound powers and adjust to them like he did with the ghost powers. He discovers his newfound abilities, including flight, super strength, and heat vision.

But that means that while most of his villains didn't try to attack him, Fenton's body is too strong. Few others worked to be stronger than that, like Skulker. Well, mostly Skulker.

So while in a fight with Skulker with new weapons from Vlad, he crash-lands in Metropolis from the attack in the Ghost Zone.

The new weapon was a poison that would have a retrograde amnesia effect on Danny. Vlad wanted to slowly make Danny forget about everything before he took him in as his own son. Skulker could then have Jack's pelt, and as a ghost hunter, it would show he hunted down a hunter.

+

In Metropolis.

Dressed as Superman, Clark made his way to a place where he heard the crash, and saw a black-haired boy standing up from the crater. He tried to talk to the boy, but he seemed to only speak kryptonian! But not in an accent he knows, which means he just met a Kryptonian boy not related to him or a clone. He would say he is 2 or 3 years younger than Kara.

Danny was confused that his "human" body wouldn't speak English. It seemed like he was more hurt than he thought.

So as Clark tried to talk to him, Danny used his heat vision to hit Skulker behind him. Clark was shocked at first, thinking the boy attacked him, until he noticed he attacked the Being behind them.

And as Skulker ranted then about how he plans to "Hang his pelt on at the foot of his bed, As he is an endangered species!" well, those are the wrong words to say. As Superman got pretty angry, he attacked Skulker, who was pretty shocked that he was able to punch him. It must have been the portal's fault.

Clark was angry at the idea of someone hunting down the Kryptoanian to skin them! He was almost as angry as when he met Darkseid.

As Danny saw how the older hero could fight Skulker and was destroying his suit, he escaped until he could transform back to Phantom or find a way home.

Without the suit, Skulker is pretty weak.

Superman captured the tiny thing and turned his way back to find the boy. But he seems to be gone. Well, he would need Kara's or Karen's help; he didn't fully understand the accent.

+

Danny with white hair was walking down the streets. He would find a place to take a break. And help himself with his memories.

Whatever Skulker injects into him, he starts to forget what he was doing…. Wait, what again was his plan?

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp #dc #dcau #dc comics #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp + dc #superman comics #superman #clark kent #kryptonian danny #kryptonian #Ghost Zone #Frostbite #Skulker #Supergirl #Powergirl #power girl #karen starr #kara zor el #Super Girl #Amnesia Danny

[i-like-media]

Pokémon Legends Z-A Wishlist

Collecting Zygarde cells again like unknown in Legends Arceus

Please give pyroar and litleo a new form their designs are dookie...

Throwback to the photo mode introduced in X and Y but improved

Old style bicycles. like maybe even those with the large front wheel.

An elaboration on the ghost girl in Lumiose City

ANCESTORS OF CLEMONT AND BONNIE!!!

Spritzee but more sinister/plague doctor like >:o)

Beautiful locations with location specific vivillon to match

More megas, maybe for pokémon who used to live in old Kalos but aren't found there today (like in Legends Arceus)

Alpha Trevenant (I beg, they're so tiny in game...)

Return of fossil pokémon in some way (I am BEGGING)

A NORMAL IN-GAME AND THEMATIC WAY TO CATCH VOLCANION, HOOPA AND DIANCIE

The return of Volo would be fun

A Vincent van Gogh smeargle variant (I am begging on my KNEES)

BEING. ABLE. TO CATCH. THE ETERNAL FLOWER FLOETTE

SOME MORE OF THAT OLD MAN AND HIS FLOETTE I BEG OF YOU

A redesign or new model for Delphox that makes it look more fun

maybe some kind of elaboration for that mysterious power plant that's in Kalos in the future, which we never got answers for

an ancestor for Looker for literally no reason at all

#pokemon legends #for no reason at all. i say. as i have been doctor who posting nonstop #pokmeon legends arceus #pokemon #pokémon #pokemon legends z #pokemon legends z-a #pokemon legends za #zygarde #pyroar #litleo #pokemon xy #pkmn #pkmn xy #kalos #pokemon kalos #trevevant #mega evolution #smeargle #volo #pokemon volo #delphox #looker #pokemon looker #vivillon #spritzee #gym leader clemont #pokemon clemont #pokemon bonnie #clemont and bonnie

[emacrow]

Danny the universal immortal babysitter pt 2

Previous post

It was only a matter of time before he got summoned after his rise in power in the ghost zone.

He still kept all the little gifts and trinkets from all the children he had babysit, most are adorable drawing, plushies, some being cursed or tiny forever screaming heads of imp demons even though it been seemingly years.(the ghost zone time is wonky)

He can already feel another summoning trail pull him through and all he can see is the grown up John Constantine who look worn out, panicked and tired before the look of surprise overwhelmed him.

"BabE J?" Danny said not realizing he is speaking ghostly as he look at the sight before him.

As the Justice league was fighting and currently losing against Vortex.

Before John could say something, Danny point his finger against his own lips. Danny can see the years and years worth of nasty demons and Gods/Goddesses claims symbols on one of his most favorite well tamed babies he used to babysit for free out of charges.

"You don't need to offer me something you already paid for." Danny said softly as just meeting him still alive make the perfect offering to the Protection core.

Baby J was actually the well-loved baby he ever poured through babysitting back then, even though his mother died after his birth and was a mostly neglect by his own alcoholic father even though his sister raised him the best she could. John remind him of his life as Danny fenton.

After Danny easily dealt with Vortex and float back down with ease where the Justice League was.

A familar faces here and there, people and aliens he had babysitted over the years, all group up made Danny's teared up a bit from how overwhelmed his core was to see the people he took care of were still alive..

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp prompt #danny is the ghost king #dcxdp #danny the babysitter #danny babysit most of the justice league #john constantine #justice league #justice league dark #danny babysit john when he was a baby and he was his favorite #ain't no demon going to tear his favorite baby boy soul into non-existent

[byeoltoyuki]

❄︎ Not Over you ❄︎

↳ Pairing: Minho x Reader

❧ Genre : demon Minho / dad Minho (kind of) / exes to lovers / fluff / smut / slight angst

❧ Warnings: oral (f), spanking, overstimulation, hair pulling, unprotected sex

❧ Words: +17k

❧ Summary: Minho had it all. He was strong, powerful and beautiful. An immortal that people either loved or feared. Except you. You, a simple human. You who he loved so dearly. And yet, You who had left him heartbroken.

❧ A/N: Hi guys! It's finally out! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing ♥. Thank you wifey for dealing with my bullshits and helping me out ♥

Likes and reblogs are appreciated. Don't hesitate to tell me what you thought about it ♥

❧ Taglist: @hoes4lino , @queenmea604 , @devilsmatches , @straykeedz , @kangyeonie , @malunar28replies , @amastaa , @yoontaethings

Minho thought that after being alive for nearly five thousand years, nothing in this world (or another) could surprise him anymore.

Wrong. Terribly wrong. 

The moment he opened his door and found you shivering and looking terribly worn out, he knew the world had come to its end. Because why would you, his ex-girlfriend, the love of his life, be standing at his doorsteps after almost three years of absence? 

He stared at you, unmoving, face blank, mind empty. It had to be a trick. Or maybe he had finally lost his mind from being so old. It had to be his imagination, his restless mind playing a very dirty trick. Minho closed his eyes, took a deep breath and when he opened his eyes once more, you were still here. No. It wasn’t a trick and it wasn’t just his imagination. 

“What-“ He started and stopped. What was he supposed to say? The urge to slam the door right to your face was so tempting. It was what he was supposed to do. He offered you his heart on a plate, he offered you the world and you trampled on it and left without looking back. And yet, he couldn’t do it. Not when you looked like a ghost, a shadow of yourself. Whatever had happened to you, left a mark on you and despite his anger, his resentment, he couldn’t ignore the tug at his heart. He worried. 

“I’m sorry.” You finally found your voice. Being in his presence overwhelmed you in so many ways. Being finally face to face with him hurt more than you had expected. You knew, going to Minho was a risk; for your heart that despite your choice, never fully recovered, but also for your life. You knew, deep inside you, that no matter how angry, how petty Minho could get, he would never hurt you but you couldn’t control your fears.

Minho opened his mouth, a snarky comment right on the tip of his tongue but all of it vanished the moment his eyes finally fell on what you were holding in your arms. Too stunned with your presence, the dark green blanket pressed tightly against your chest went completely unnoticed. Until now. As he stared at it, he quickly realized that it wasn’t the blanket you were clenching so tightly against you, as if you were scared someone would try to steal it from you. No, it wasn’t just a blanket. Warmth and pure innocence radiated from within the blanket.

Minho took a step back. Surprise, fear and hurt flashed all at once in his eyes. And yet, one question remained. Why were you at his doorstep with a baby?

“I-“ You hesitated as your eyes went back and forth between your little baby and him. “I didn’t know where else to go.” It was the lamest excuse you could come up with but it was also the truth. Of course, there was a whole story behind your presence and you knew, inevitably, you would have to share it with him.

“You got to be kidding me.” Minho growled, frustrated with your explanation. “You come back three years later and with a baby on top of that.” To say that Minho was not amused would be the understatement of the century. He drew nearer, stopping inches from you.

And then it hit him. The scent. The scent, he hated so badly. His eyes widened in shock as he looked at the tiny hand that appeared from under the blanket and grabbed a lock of your hair. “Why is there an angel in your arms, Y/N?”

As he sniffed and tasted more of the baby’s scent, the answer formed inside his head but his heart, already aching just because of your presence, refused it. All color drained from his face.

You averted your eyes from Minho’s face and looked instead at your baby, your little girl and the reason you found your way back to Minho. You couldn’t help but smile fondly at her and press a kiss on her forehead. “Hana is my daughter.”

“No.” Minho refused and put space between the two of you. Maybe he wanted to distance himself from you just so your own scent could stop messing with his mind, or maybe he was hurt because of what this little human-being meant. “There is no way you got pregnant with a fucking angel.”

You winced at his unspoken words. You could perfectly understand his anger, after all, didn’t you leave him because you refused to deal with what he was? When Minho confessed to you about being a demon, he shared his most prized secret; he did it because he trusted you, loved you. But you got scared. You weren’t a strong believer to begin with but when faced with the truth, you had no other choice and it terrified you. You doubted everything and even his love. Demons weren’t supposed to be nice. They weren’t supposed to be able to love and cherish. And definitely not a human.

“I didn’t know.” You whispered, your voice shaky.

“I don’t believe you. You humans lie so easily.”

‘That’s rich coming from a demon.’ You wanted to say but refrained yourself. It would do you no good to pick a fight with Minho. No, you needed his help and if you had to deal with his pettiness and hatred – you will.

“I didn’t know he was an angel!” You said instead, a little bit more confident.

Sadly for you, Minho was far from ready to accept this excuse, even if you were right. Demons and angels had at least two things in common. One, they could hide their identity without trouble. Nobody could tell them apart from humans. Two, they were biggest liars in the world. “Oh come on! They’re not that hard to distinguish.”

“To you maybe! But I’m human, Minho, in case you had forgotten. I don’t see a fucking difference if you don’t show it! I would have never guessed you were a demon just like I couldn’t tell he was an angel.”

“Were you that desperate to get fucked?”

On second thought, to hell with needing his help. You were clearly out of your mind to think even for a second that Minho would accept to help you, to shelter you. You had spent the last ten days running away, never staying more than a night at the same place, too scared to be found, too scared Hana would be taken from you. But Minho’s hatred for angels was apparent and so was his resentment for you. You had to leave before it was too late.

“Fuck you, Minho.”

Hana stirred in your arms, sensing your distress and hurt and anger. You pulled her closer to your face and peppered her tiny face with kisses, trying to comfort her, to tell her that everything was fine as long as they were together. Nobody could take her away from you – you would fight till death.

You turned around to leave for good this time. There was no coming back. But before you could even take two steps, Minho grabbed your shoulder. You didn’t dare to turn around and look at him, too scared of what you would see on his face.

In this moment, Minho hated his treacherous heart for acting on its own accord. He had watched you leave once and it left him in pieces. He couldn’t do it a second time. Maybe he was out of his mind and maybe he would come to regret his decision, but right now, seeing your body so frail, yet your spirit wild and fierce – he couldn’t ignore it.

“Stay with me. For tonight at least.” He finally said. He knew, he probably should apologize for his harsh words, but he couldn’t. “You need some rest and I guess-“ He paused and peaked over your shoulder at Hana. Damn, she was only a few days old but he could already see traces of you on her face. He took a deep breath, “And I guess Hana needs some rest too.”

That night, Minho didn’t get any sleep. His mind was restless, head filled with thoughts of you, of your baby and nothing else. For a while, he laid in his bed, pondering over what he should do with you. Should he let you leave? Should he help you? He was far from being fond of angels but he didn’t want them at his doorsteps either. Not that he was scared of them, quite the opposite. But the truce between angels and demons lasted for the past five hundred years and it should stay this way.

Realizing that he wouldn’t get any sleep, Minho got out of his bed and despite the little voice in his head telling him to stay away from the room you slept in, he walked inside the room. You were sleeping tightly, curled around Hana, keeping her close in fear she would be taken from you.

Now that his anger lessened, he wanted to know the full story. He wanted to know how you managed to go back to your life while he was stuck with the memories of your love. He wanted to know how and why your path crossed with a bloody angel and how in the world he managed to get you pregnant. It was possible, Hana was a living proof, but it wasn’t that easy. Was he jealous? Maybe a little.

“This is madness.” He told himself, unable to tear his eyes away from your body. You had lost weight, too much even, he could see it. For a moment, he wondered how you managed to give birth to a healthy little girl while being in such state. 

Hana opened her eyes, sensing another presence in the room, a shadow hovering over them. She stared at Minho; his eyes flashed red but she didn’t cry, she didn’t budge and simply stared at him in wonder.

“Hello there.” Minho whispered, lightly surprise that the baby didn’t show any fear with his presence.

Hana’s response came in the form of outstretched, tiny arms. Her eyes shone brightly and turned gold.

“Huh. Now, aren’t you precious.” Minho leaned over her to have a better look, his own hand outstretched but he hesitated. She was the result of you and an angel, this thought alone disgusted him. But could he really hate such an innocent part of you? Hana made the decision for him; she didn’t hesitate as she grabbed his finger with impressive strength. Ten days old or not, she was half angel and her strength was already manifesting. “It’s gonna be fun, I can tell.”

Hana seemed to agree as she held his finger a little tighter.

The next time Minho visited your room, you were awake and feeding Hana. You sat by the window, enjoying some ray of sun.

You glanced at him, your heart pounding in your chest at the simple sight of him. There was a lot to discuss, you knew but it didn’t make it any less terrifying.

Minho leaned against the wall and watched you from afar. Ten hours of sleep and you looked more alive than last night but still not enough. Your face was sunk, dark circles under your eyes. It would take you more than one good night of sleep to recover and he was perfectly aware of that.

“You look like shit.” He commented and slapped himself mentally for being rude, unprovoked.

“You would be too after giving birth and running away right away.” Instead of feeling offended by his statement, because he was right, you did look like shit and you felt like shit too, you simply cocked a brow at him.

“Nah. They would be all dead if it was me.”

You rolled your eyes at him. Of course, he would say something like that. But then, you guessed he was right. “Right. The almighty Minho.”

“I actually like the sound of that.” The corner of his mouth turned up, amused with the small banter. It felt better than he expected.

For a moment, it felt like the three years had never happened. You were in his house, with him and joking around. Minho could lie to himself as much as he wanted, but he missed it. A lot.

He cleared his throat and drew closer. He sat on the other side of the bed, keeping his distance just in case you didn’t want him so close. And maybe, a little for his own safety. “We should talk.”

Hana yawned in your arms and slowly closed her eyes. The two of you watched her fall asleep, completely unaware of the dangers lurking in every corner.

“She took after you.” Minho commented, his voice gentle, betraying the fact that he was already growing fond of the little girl, not caring about the fact that she was half-enemy.

“She’s only 11 days old. No way you can tell she looks like me.” You snorted

“But she does.” Minho insisted. “Moreover, she’s half-angel, Y/N, she doesn’t age the same way as you, human do.”

You opened your mouth to protest but then his words dawned on you. You looked down at Hana. You hadn’t seen many babies in your life, but one look at Hana and you would never believe she was only few days old. She looked older. It terrified you to even think how she would look in few months. “How does it work?”

Minho could taste your fear, your pain, he couldn’t ignore it even if he tried. “Don’t worry. It will slow down eventually. You have years before she reaches adulthood.”

You looked at him hopeful. Was he trying to simply appease your mind or was he telling the truth? “Really?”

“Yes.” You almost whipped in relief but held back. You were so damn tired, your emotions were overloaded and it was getting harder and harder to keep it together. But you had to, for Hana’s sake.

“How did it happen?” Minho finally asked and pointed at Hana.

“Apparently, I didn’t learn my lesson. Looks can be deceiving and I fell right for it again.” You didn’t intend to sound so bitter but your words hit Minho like a slap. You regretted instantly. “Sorry.”

Minho curled his fists on his laps and tried not to think about his feelings, tried not to think about an angel having you when it was supposed to be him. He tried not to think about how much having you at his place tortured him. “How did you find out he was an angel?” “Well, did you know that my pregnancy didn’t last nine months but five? I got worried with how big I was getting so I went to-“ You stopped and bit on your lips. The name you were about to drop would not please Minho.

“Who did you go to, Y/N?” He too sensed he wouldn’t like your answer.

You cleared your throat. “Amy.”

Minho growled, annoyance showing. “You got to be kidding me.”

“Listen!” You slowly put Hana back on the bed, trying not to wake her up. “I know you were never fond of her and I figured once I found out about that witches and demons don’t get along but I was terrified. Doctors couldn’t explain what was wrong with me but she did.”

Minho tried to be reasonable and forced himself to not make any comment. He didn’t think your story could get any worse but it did with the mention of the witch. Witches couldn’t be trusted. They obeyed to no rules except their owns. “Did she ask something in return of her help?” You paused and simply stared at him. You obviously didn’t know many witches or demons or angels but judging from Minho’s question you easily guessed that his past experiences were bad. “Amy is a friend, Minho. Witch or not. She helped me to go through the pregnancy and she helped me to deliver Hana.”

“She’s a witch.”

“And a friend.” You defended her stubbornly. Amy was a sweet friend, the only one you trusted. Especially after the attack. “You can hate her all you want but you have to know that Amy took huge risks for my sake.” The night everything changed was still fresh in your mind and still just as painful. “Mere hours after Hana’s birth, he came for her along with other angels.”

Before you could even finish, Minho knew where you were heading. He expected nothing less from angels. For both, demons and angels, it was rare to have children, full blooded or not; they would never leave a special child like Hana behind.

“He tried to convince me to give Hana up. Told me it was for the best and that I wouldn’t even know what to do with a special girl like her. And he’s right. I know shit about angels and I don’t want to know. But I will never give up on my flesh and blood. She’s mine.”

Your voice was filled with venom and anger and a will so strong, Minho could feel it in his bones. He could almost pity the angels who dared to go against a mother, against you. Whoever was Hana’s father, knew nothing about you, otherwise he would have known not to mess with you.

“Amy blasted them away.” You continued. “And even if it was a small victory, I was glad. But I also realized that I couldn’t stay with Amy. They would come back and this time they will be prepared. Amy did the only thing she could to protect me.”

Minho had a hard time to believe that a witch would go to such extent for a human. It seemed unfathomable and yet, Minho saw that Amy truly cared about you. At first, he thought it was another fool play, a trick, but he had to admit defeat. 

He rubbed his neck, unsure of what he should tell you. Should he reassure you? Should he be honest with you? “They will come back for her. Angels are petty assholes; they do not forgive. By helping you, she pissed them off.”

You didn’t want to think about what they would do to Amy; you guessed it could get ugly but Hana was your priority, you couldn’t worry for someone else. But you did. What if Amy got hurt because of you? Or worse, what if they kill her? “They won’t kill her, will they?”

Minho’s silence spoke louder. He didn’t think the angels would kill her, no matter how much they hated everything that weren’t them. Witches were dangerous and angering them would not be wise. But it didn’t mean they wouldn’t hurt her enough to make her pay.

“They won’t kill her.” He said in the end. “What happened after you left her?”

“I’ve been running ever since that night.” You admitted. “I didn’t know where to hide and my body started failing me.” 

“So you came to me instead.” Minho wasn’t sure how he felt about it. A tiny part of him was glad that you considered him safe enough to seek his help, but the bitter part of him, the jealous monster wanted to scream at you, to bite you, to hurt you the same way you had hurt him. He did none of that. Minho closed his eyes and took another deep breath before opening his eyes and look at you. “Rest. We’ll talk more when you feel better.” 

As Minho left your room, hand still on the knob, he wondered what he should do. He knew you were right; Amy had taken a huge risk by fighting angels, they would come to punish her. It didn’t sit right with him. She was a witch but she was your friend who stood by your side. 

“You’re making me do some crazy things, Y/N.” Minho muttered as he shook his head in disbelief.   He owed you nothing and yet. 

“Watch after her while I’m away.” Minho ordered and a shadow moved on the wall in response. 

“Your place is boring and so witchy.” Minho commented as he appeared by the fireplace in Amy’s home. 

If Amy was surprised to see him, she didn’t show it, instead she kept mixing the herbs. “Nobody asked for your opinion.” 

“True, but I still thought you needed it.” Minho answered unbothered as he stepped closer to her. The last, and only time he had seen Amy was the day you innocently introduced her to him. Amy, the best friend who happened to be a damn witch. To say that Minho was not thrilled with the knowledge would be an understatement and the feelings were mutual. 

“What are you doing here, Minho?” Amy finally asked, still without looking at him. “If you’re looking for Y/N, she’s not here.” 

“I know. She’s at my place.” Minho didn’t hide this fact. 

Amy snapped her head towards him, shocked with this piece of information. She opened her mouth and closed instantly, words lost on the tip of her tongue. Realizing she had finally showed him her face, she lowered her head to avoid his gaze. She didn’t want him to judge or pity her. 

But it was too late, Minho had seen it all and he didn’t like it. He hoped he would get there first, but the angels worked faster, they wanted their revenge. They hadn’t wasted their time. Fist clenched, he slowly approached her and crouched down before her. “And they say demons are cruel.” Gently he pushed some strands of hair from her face to expose more of the ugly scars the angels have left behind. 

“They couldn’t kill me because of my lineage.” Amy admitted, “Something about a truce with my coven.” 

Angels and their truce, bullshits, Minho refrained from saying. 

“I suppose you already tried to heal it?” 

“Of course. No spells, no potions worked. I’m no match to a freaking angel.” Amy replied with bitterness.

“Well, aren’t you lucky I’m a demon.” Minho’s eyes shone a bright red. Angry, furious even. His hands were itchy, he wanted to fight and to kill. 

“Wha-“ Amy didn’t have time to react; Minho’s hands were already on her face, his grip firm but gentle, making sure not to hurt her. “What are you doing?” 

“Let’s say it’s my way of thanking you for taking care of Y/N.” It was the truth. Of course, it pleased him to go against angels’ plans without them even knowing it, but the main reason was you. He knew you; if you ever found out about Amy’s state you would never forgive yourself. 

“Why?”

“Because she’s the only one I have ever loved.” Minho straightened and looked down on her. “She worries for you.” 

Amy shook her head in disbelief and chuckled. “So typical Y/N.” 

When Minho got back from Amy’s place, his feet led him straight to your room, his body knowing better what he wanted than his mind. You were sleeping peacefully, body curled around Hana, in protection once more. Even unconscious you wanted to make sure she was safe. Minho hated this situation with all his being, but he couldn’t deny that motherhood suited you. 

Just when he thought about leaving your room, Hana’s little giggle caught his attention. Slowly, he approached the bed and hovered over your bodies. Hana was wide awake, her eyes shining brightly and with something very familiar to Minho: mischief. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?” He cocked a brow at her. He shook his head, realizing he was getting either stupid or just tired, thinking she could understand him. 

But Hana did understand him as she managed to shake her head, something such a young baby wasn’t supposed to do. Angel’s blood was running strong in her veins. 

Hana outstretched her arms, wanting Minho to take her in his arms. He hesitated. It wasn’t a good idea. He didn’t want to get any more involved but Hana had a strong will, something he was familiar with. She frowned at him and tears formed in the corner of her eyes. 

“Oh hell no. Don’t do that.” He hurried to take her in his arms. One hand holding as carefully as he could her head, the other wrapped around her tiny body. “Let your mommy sleep. She’s exhausted.” 

Hana’s response came in the form of a light slap on his nose, followed by another small giggle. 

Minho’s heart did a little flip; how could he resist her natural charms? He could be jealous of the situation, wishing none of that had happened, wishing Hana was his daughter - in the end, he couldn’t come to hate her. Not when she was a piece of you. Not when she stared at him with the same bright eyes as yours. 

“Come on. Since you don’t want to sleep anymore, I’m going to entertain you while your mommy is resting.” 

Till this day, Minho thought that babies and him would never get along. He thought wrong. Or maybe it was just because Hana was a special baby. She wasn’t afraid of him, not even when his eyes turned red and he tried to scare her. No, she simply giggled and moved her tiny arms, trying to grab his face. Few days old and she was already fearless, he could already imagine the troubles she would bring once older. But he liked it. More than he thought he would. 

“What am I gonna do with you hm?” He asked 

Hana wiggled in his arms, pushing him as strongly as she could, without words trying to make him understand what she wanted. Minho quirked a brow, amused at her attempt to escape his arms. He put her on the couch and observed how easily she rolled over and got on her knees. She stared at her hands, scrunched up her face in concentration. She pushed, once, twice, until she managed to straighten her body and sit only on her knees. A squeal of satisfaction left her lips and she clapped her tiny hands.

“Well done.” Minho watched her, amazed. He sat on the floor, leaning on his hands as he watched her proudly. “I think it won’t take you long to start walking.” In fact, he was pretty sure it would only take another day or two – way to give you another heart attack, he believed.

“I wonder what else you inherited from him.” Minho tried to sound as neutral as he could manage, but even the thought of the bloody angel made his blood boil. He closed his eyes and tried to erase the image of you and an angel from his mind. He tried not to think about the fact that someone else touched you, someone else saw your beautiful smile, someone else heard your pretty moans. He clenched his fists so tight, his knuckles turned white – Hana groaned while trying to reach for him.

“Wha-hold on.” He hurried to outstretch his arms and catch her before she could fall from the couch in her attempt to get to him. “What were you trying to do, little one hm?”

In response, Hana touched his face, at first it seemed like she wanted to pat his cheeks but then she poked playfully his cheeks instead and giggled. Minho blinked in confusion only to realize that it was her unique way to comfort him.

Minho couldn’t help; his mouth curled into a smile. “Thank you, little one.”

Minho felt you way before he saw you. Not like it was hard to miss when your steps were loud and hurried. And not like he could ignore the taste of your panic. You ran down the stairs, almost falling but catching yourself on time.

“Don’t break your neck right now.” Minho commented from the couch, frowning at your sudden appearance.

You opened your mouth to speak and closed it right away. All your panic vanished at the sight of Hana, sitting comfortably on Minho’s laps, playing with his hands and looking incredibly happy. Your heart was still roaring in your ears; you woke up to an empty bed and for a moment, you thought he had found you.

“I-“ But you couldn’t think straight.

Minho shook his head and averted his eyes from you. “Take a seat. Hana was getting impatient. She wanted to see you.” Not that she could speak and tell him that, but from her behavior, he guessed. She wanted her mom, no matter how nice Minho was.

You did just as he said and sat on the chair across from him. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Minho was so gentle and so comfortable with Hana. She tugged at his hands, conveying a silent message and he chuckled in response. Minho gently scooped Hana in his arms and brought her to you. Having Hana back in your arms had a healing and soothing effect on you, and yet, before you could fully have her, Hana grabbed his fingers and held tightly.

“I think she likes me.” Minho stated the obvious but with so much fondness, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

“I see that.” Your heart swelled with love and a little bit of pride; Hana could already discern who was good and who wasn’t. “How long was I out?”

“Three days.”

“What?” You looked at him in disbelief. There was no way you had slept three days. Of course, you were very much aware that your body had reached its limit while you were running away from a horde of angels, but maybe you hadn’t realized the extent of the damages to your body. But it wasn’t the only reason of your disbelief. Minho had taken care of Hana for three days and judging from their little exchange, you believed they had bonded.

You looked at Hana and finally noticed the changes in your baby. You had been out for three days and she already looked different. Older. Nobody would believe she was only days old.

Minho noticed the change in your mood and kneeled before you, Hana still holding his fingers. “She looks more and more like you.” And he wasn’t lie. He had three days to observe, to witness firsthand the changes. Her eyes, her nose, her lips, it was all you and Minho truly believed that she would look even more like you once older.

“She’s growing so fast.” You whispered, terrified of what it meant. “How-“

With his free hand, Minho put his hand on your knee and gave it a comforting squeeze. A simple gesture that set your body on fire. His touch was so familiar, your body reacted on its own, without you being able to control it.

“I promise you, it will slow down.” He tried to reassure you. His eyes darted back and forth between you and Hana who smiled at him. “I-“ He hesitated and couldn’t believe he was about to say it. For the past three days, he thought about what he was supposed to do with you and Hana. The reasonable thing would be to let you leave once you recovered but his heart was begging him to do something else. Something unfathomable. “Stay with me.”

Your eyes widened in shock, so shocked your body shook. “You can’t be serious.” It was what you wanted, of course, what you hoped for but hearing him say the words took you completely off guard. How could he let you stay after you broke his heart? How could he let you stay when you cursed him for what he was and yet had a child with an angel?

“Trust me, I am.” Minho sighed as he got back on his feet.

“Minho.” You didn’t know what to say. Of course, you were overwhelmed; his presence, his gentleness with your baby, him being too understanding. You didn’t deserve any of that, you knew it and so did he. Before your mind could spiral even more, Hana giggled and clapped her hands as if she understood the meaning behind Minho’s words. The two of you looked at her, you amazed and Minho with a soft smile.

“See. She agrees.” 

Even after three years of not visiting Minho’s place, everything stayed the same. The same minty and wooden scent all around the place. Same furniture. Same decoration. But what amazed you the most, and tug at your heart, was the fact that he kept the traces of you. Your little presents, the pictures, he kept it all. Minho was just too good. He could have erased all memories, or traces of you but he had a gentle soul. If demons had one.

You stared for a moment at a picture. The two of you smiling happily together with the beach on the background. You remembered this day vividly, even now. You had begged Minho to come with you to the beach. You were stubborn but so was he, except that you had an advantage, a joker to use against him: he was weak for your puppy-eyes game. He had stayed out of water for the biggest part of the day, but it was enough for you.

You traced the frame with your finger and smiled at the memory. You had pushed him a lot that day which ended with Minho throwing you right into the sea, laughing evilly at you.

You missed the old days.

With a heavy heart, you averted your eyes from the happy picture and resumed your walking. You woke up with an idea on mind: make breakfast for the three of you. There wasn’t much you could do to show your gratitude but cooking was a good start.

Easily, you found everything you needed in his kitchen. You hummed to yourself and started cutting the vegetables. One thing, you and Minho shared was that you both loved salty and sweet breakfast.

“You look better.” Minho’s rough, still sleepy voice interrupted you.

You halted and slowly raised your head to look at him. He rubbed his eyes and then stared back.

It shouldn’t be allowed to look this good, you told yourself but quickly shook this thought off your mind. It wasn’t right for you to admire him.

“Hana?”

“Still sleeping. I think she likes the bed you brought her.” The moment Minho had decided that the two of you should stay with him, for safety, he made some changes to your room. Even if, you didn’t mind sleeping with Hana beside you, he put a nice cradle in your room. The cradle wasn’t the only addition to your room. Shelves filled with plushies and nice accessories were added. He wanted the two of you to feel at ease, at home. It reminded you why you had fallen for him in the first place. Despite his cold demeanor, he was the sweetest and gentlest lover. He cared deeply. Even now.

“Good.” He walked behind you, arm brushing yours – it sent shivers down your spine. You cursed your body once more for being so easily affected, for longing for him, for anything. “Let me help you.”

Minho took a look at the ingredients you displayed on the table and quickly understood what you had on mind. “I’ll prepare the pancakes.”

So easily he saw through you. It was disarming, in a way. You cleared your throat and forced your eyes to keep their focus on the vegetables. “Thank you.”

But who in their right mind could concentrate? You couldn’t. You kept glancing as discretely as possible at him. You didn’t know how he managed to stay so composed, so focused on his tasks while you couldn’t. Your heart was beating loud against your ribs, too loud for your liking. What if demons had enhanced hearing? You didn’t need him to find out how you truly felt about his presence.

But maybe you should have been paying more attention to your work instead of focusing so much on your thoughts and on him. One moment of inattention and you cut your finger.

“Fuck!” You cursed and held your finger. Fortunately for you, the cut wasn’t too deep but deep enough for your finger to bleed. Quickly, you got to the sink and let the cold water wash your cut.

“Let me see.” Minho told you as he gently grabbed your hand and inspected it.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you were unable to avert your eyes from his face. He was so concentrated on your cut, frowning at it. “It’s not that bad.” It really wasn’t. But then, Minho brought your finger to his lips, his eyes on you. “What are you-“ But you never managed to finish; Minho parted his lips and brought your finger to his mouth.

“Minho!” You gasped and tried to pull away from his grip, but he didn’t budge. At all. Instead, you felt his tongue swirled around your finger. Your face heated up with embarrassment, your heart on the brink of explosion. You were in so much trouble.

Satisfied with your reaction, Minho let go of your hand, his eyes never leaving your face. He licked his lips and smirked. “Now, better?”

The cut had simply vanished. You blinked in confusion as you inspected your finger. You came to realize that there was so much you had to learn about demons and their powers. “Was it really necessary?” You tried to hide your embarrassment but your face was too red.

“No. But watching you squirm was priceless.” He admitted, smugly.

“Dick.”

Minho had always been a light sleeper, always on alert; call it years of war between angels and demons, attacks were frequent, danger everywhere, he had to adapt. The moment he heard Hana’s first, tiny sob, he was already out of bed and on his way to your room. He didn’t need to, obviously, you were sleeping in the same room as Hana but his body, possessed clearly, moved on its own. Before she could even start fully crying, she was already in his arms. 

“Sshhh pretty. Let’s not wake your mommy, hmm?” Minho whispered as he rocked her, slowly moving in your room. 

“Minho?” You called, voice weak, eyes barely opened. You tried to rub the sleepiness from your eyes with no success. 

He looked at you, his lips stretched into a small smile. “Go back to sleep.” 

Barely realizing what was going on, you did exactly what he said. You lay down, closed your eyes and let his pretty voice lull you back to sleep. 

“Better.” Minho averted his attention to Hana and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. She giggled in return, happy with the outcome. 

You woke up to the gentle chirp of birds. Your window was opened, not that you remembered opening it last night, but for once you didn’t panic. You also didn’t panic not to find Hana in her cradle. Instead, your chest warmed at the thought of Hana being again with Minho. When you first decided to come to him, you never expected to stay and you certainly didn’t expect him to grow so fond of her. It was a miracle. A miracle, you welcomed with opened arms and a little regret. If only you didn’t act so childish back then. If only you had listened to your heart, then maybe, the situation would have been different for the better. Of course, you didn’t regret having Hana, she was your precious treasure, your blood and flesh and you would risk everything for her, even your life. But maybe, it could have been different. Maybe, if you had stayed, she would have been his. 

“Stop it.” You scolded yourself. Regrets were useless right now. 

You climbed off the bed. One look at the window and you guessed it was already late and way past breakfast time. You grabbed the closest piece of cloth; a simple grey hoodie that Minho had left for you. As you put it on, you got overwhelmed with the familiar and comforting scent. His scent. You pushed the collar closer to your nose and with closed eyes you inhaled his scent. Memories flooded your mind. Memories of sweet kisses, of heated touches, of lovely words, of safety. You missed those times. 

On tiptoes, you left your room. Minho’s house was calm, too calm for a place where now lived a baby. You expected to find them easily but no, no sign of Minho and Hana in the living room. You glanced over your shoulder, at Minho’s bedroom door. You hesitated. Were you really ready to go back to this familiar room? A place you had stayed for hours, lying in bed, most of the time naked, under him, on top of him, in the safety of his arms. 

You closed your eyes as a particular good memory flashed through your mind. 

Flashback 

It was way past your bedtime and Minho knew he shouldn’t keep you awake any longer if he wanted you to rest and look good on your first day of work. But Minho had a tendency to be selfish. He wanted to talk more, to touch you more, to feel more of you. Who could blame he when you looked so sweet against him? He had one hand in the air and you didn’t hold back from touching him. Feather like touches, you traced the shape of his fingers, of every vein. 

“I love your hands.” You whispered, captivated. 

Minho chuckled in response, his chuckle vibrating against your cheek. “I wonder why.” 

You rolled your eyes at his remark. So typical of him. Instead you feigned innocence. “What? They’re pretty.” They truly were and he certainly knew how to use them to make you lose your mind. 

“What else?” His voice got darker; it should have been your clue not to push if you wanted to sleep but you couldn’t resist. 

“I lose my sanity whenever I see your pretty hands.” You admitted. How many times you found yourself staring at his hands? How many times, he caught you red handed, imagining all the things he could do with those pretty hands? 

Minho’s smirk grew wider at your confession. He rolled right on top of you and admired your body under him. You were just so damn beautiful. The most beautiful person in the world. With your wild hair splayed all across the pillow, with your pink swollen lips, with your pretty neck covered in marks. 

“And what do you imagine?” His hand found your throat only to slid down slowly from there to your collarbone, to between your breasts. He watched every breath you took, every raise of your chest, every bite on your lips. “Do you imagine how good it feels?” And they slid further down, to your stomach, feather life touches that set your body on fire, pushing yourself more against him, to feel more of him - he smirked, satisfied. 

“Or do you imagine how good my fingers feel inside you?” He asked as he brushed your clit playfully. 

“Shit.” You mewled. How did he always manage to get you so needy? Always ready to beg him to play with you, to take you. You just couldn’t say no. And you didn’t want to either. 

“Is it what you want, love?” He teased your entrance by pushing a finger inside and retreating right after, making you whimper in despair and need. 

“Yes. Shit, baby, please, I need you so badly.” You pleaded and pushed your hips, hoping to get more.

Minho tsked and shook his head. “Such a greedy baby. I thought you told me you had enough for tonight?” And he teased again, watching with awe and love as you let out low whimpers. 

“I can’t get enough of you.” You were ready to say anything to please him and get what you needed. But it wasn’t a lie. No matter how many times Minho touched you, ruined you, you were always left begging for more. You just couldn’t get enough. You were addicted and he was the best drug you could have asked for. 

“Is that so?” He hummed, satisfied with your answer. He leaned closer and brushed his lips against yours. “Always so good for me, kitten.” His lips trailed from your lips to your jaw, to your neck, leaving in his trail tiny bites as he pushed a finger inside you. “I believe you deserve a reward.” 

You let out a sob of relief as he added another finger, stretching you in a delicious way. But the moment he latched his lips around your nipple, was truly the moment you lost it. You arched your back, pushing your chest further. You plunged your fingers into his hair, tugging at the locks, feeling his deep groan against your skin - a sexy groan that made you clench around his fingers. 

For once, Minho didn’t try to control you; he let you rock your hips as you needed to feel his fingers deeper inside you. He let you touch him however you wanted, enjoying every tug on his hair, every little scratch you made - he took everything. 

“Is it what you had imagined?” He asked as he curled his fingers inside you making it impossible for you to speak, a loud moan escaping your pretty lips instead. Minho smiled proudly, feeling that you were close. “Come for me, love. Show me how happy your greedy pussy is.” 

And you gladly did. 

Back to present. 

Your face heated at the memory alone. It happened long ago and yet your body remembered everything; every touch, every kiss, every mark Minho left. 

“Get a grip!” You scolded yourself and slapped your cheeks for good measure. You couldn’t have this thoughts, not now and especially not when you were heading for his room. 

Despite being more than familiar and comfortable with his place, you knocked at the door – no response. Without making any noise, you pushed the door to his room. The room was plunged into full darkness, except for his bedside lamp that was on, the light illuminating the bed and Minho. Minho who was soundly asleep, Hana sleeping on his chest with Minho’s arm around her. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Every time you witnessed some interaction between your little girl and Minho, your heart almost broke with joy.  

“Aren’t you guys super cute.” You whispered to yourself, your hand pressed to your chest as if you could save your little heart from the lovely sight. You wished you had your phone with you so you could take a picture of this moment and maybe so you could tease Minho about being completely in love with Hana.

You smiled to yourself and let them sleep some more.

In a matter of few days, Minho came to realization that your presence along with Hana’s at his place was more than welcomed and felt absolutely natural. He never thought he would need something like that. He never thought he needed a family. For a demon, to wish for a family it was unheard of. It was too human, too pathetic and yet, he could now understand this very unfamiliar feeling.

More he spent time with Hana and more he grew fond of her. Every time he held her in his arms, he couldn’t help but wish for her to be his. Every time she held his hand, he wished he could protect her forever. Every little smile, every little giggle, became his most favorite thing in the world. And you. You, no matter how much he wished he could make you pay for the pain you put him through, he couldn’t find it in him. Every time he looked at your face, his heart ached with longing.  Every time he found himself in your presence, your sweet, captivating scent brought back unwanted memories, unwanted needs. He couldn’t deny the fact that he wanted to hold you in his arms, that he wanted to feel your touch, your kisses.

Before he could get any more lost in his thoughts, Hana, playfully, slapped his cheeks. Once, twice, until he blinked and looked at her and quirked a brow. This girl was too fearless. If only she realized that she was playing with a powerful demon (and even then, he was convinced she would still not care).

“Aren’t you being a little bold today, hm?” He joked and pretended to bite her nose – Hana giggled loudly in response which made his eyes to go soft. Yes, she had him, completely, wrapped around her finger.

“Darling, I’m home!” Jisung appeared out of thin air, right in the middle of the room, just like he always did. He threw himself on the couch, too happy to annoy his friend and completely unaware of two new presences in the house. “Missed me?”

Minho should have known that eventually Jisung would pay him a visit at the most unexpected time. He should have warded his place against everybody to keep his little secret a little longer. But now it was too late; Jisung blinked in confusion as he spotted Hana in his arms.

“Holy shit!” Jisung screamed so loud Hana winced and pressed herself harder against Minho. “No, it can’t be. Is it a baby in your arms?” He shifted on the couch, leaning to get a better look at her and then at him.

“Language.” Minho scolded him. “What does she look like? Of course it’s a baby.”

Jisung couldn’t believe his eyes as he gawked at the two of them for a moment, trying to figure out why a baby was in his house. Why, a demon such as Minho, would even be with a baby. But then and because of his attention on her, Hana tried to hide in Minho’s arms and Jisung thought it was the funniest thing in the world. Minho, the big, bad demon, was babysitting. He burst into laughter, holding his stomach. “The guys will never believe me when I’m gonna tell them about you and the baby.”

The urge to kick Jisung’s ass was strong and for Hana’s sake, Minho had to resist it. Instead, he rolled his eyes at his friend and averted his eyes to you, coming out of the kitchen, the apron still around your body. The simple sight of you lessened his annoyance and the sight of your soft smile melted his heart.

“Guess I was right cooking more than necessary.” You commented as you looked at a very confused Jisung. He hadn’t changed at all, still the same loud boy who adored Minho. Not that you could blame him for it. “Hi Jisung.”

“What?!” Jisung jolted at the sound of your voice that he instantly recognized. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He couldn’t believe you were back, looking so comfortable and homy. It didn’t sit right with him. Jisung was never the type to hold back and he was ready to share a piece of his mind but he halted. He looked at you, then slowly looked at Hana, noticing the similarities between the two of you. Then, and even slower, his gaze slid to Minho.

“How? What? When?” Jisung didn’t want to jump to conclusion, but what was he supposed to think when the ex-girlfriend of his best friend suddenly showed up? How was he supposed to react seeing his friend, so comfortable (and a tad overprotective) with a baby who was clearly yours?

You couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction – Minho gave you the stinky eye in return.

“She’s not mine.” Minho declared to put end to Jisung’s misery and inner turmoil.

Jisung pointed an accusing finger at Minho, scowling. “If she’s not yours, why the hell are you glued to her as if she was yours?”

And just like that, the urge to kick his ass was back. Minho got back on his feet, still holding Hana, as he walked towards you to hand her. You gladly took her in your arms. He lingered, his eyes on Hana and gently patted her head before briefly looking at you. 

“See. This is exactly why I’m not believing you when you say she’s not yours.” Jisung commented, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at you. 

You couldn’t blame Jisung for thinking this way; Minho was truly sweet and protective over Hana as if she was his own. If only. 

Minho sighed and turned to face his friend. “Can’t you tell what she is?” 

Jisung tilted his head to the side and truly looked at Hana. It didn’t take long for his eyes to widen in shock as realization dawned on him. He opened his mouth and closed it then looked at you. “What the hell?!” 

“Language.” Minho repeated himself. 

“Minho.” Jisung inhaled sharply, bracing himself. “Why the-why is Y/N here with a baby?” Then his gaze slid to you, frowning and not hiding his dislike. His eyes turned purple, revealing what was hiding beneath this pretty, cute face. You should have known that he was just like Minho and yet it took you by surprise. 

“Jisung.” Minho warned him, standing now right before you, shielding you from him. “Don’t even think about it.” 

Jisung snarled in response. He didn’t look so cute and harmless anymore. Far from it. He took a step towards you. “She left you for a fu-freaking angel, got a baby and now she’s crawling back to you? Did I miss anything?” 

“I didn’t leave him for an angel.” You fought back. You understood his anger; he had all the rights in the world to be angry with you but he didn’t have the right to twist your story. 

“And yet here you are with this thi-“ Jisung never managed to finish his sentence. Whatever he was about to say turned into a shriek as he found himself thrown against a wall with so much strength it left a crack in the wall. 

You blinked in confusion before slowly looking down at your little girl. Hana had her arm outstretched and looked upset, her eyes glowing. So small, so young and yet she already showed so much strength; you couldn’t imagine how stronger she could get. 

If you were both impressed and scared with Hana’s display of power, Minho simply chuckled and ruffled Hana’s hair before walking to his friend. 

“Guess she doesn’t like you.” Minho commented, smirking at Jisung. He grabbed his arm and helped him back on his feet. “Better watch out or she might throw you through the window next time.” 

Jisung whined in response but didn’t comment, still stunned with the outcome. 

 “So. Let me make sure I understood everything. You met an angel without knowing he was one - I still don’t know how you didn’t notice, they’re just bunch of assholes.” That earned him a slap on the back of his head from Minho and a roll of eyes from you. “Whatever. Anyway. He got you pregnant and once you found out what he was you run away. Sounds familiar.” 

You took the blow without a word. But Minho thought differently. He kicked Jisung under the table. 

“Don’t be an asshole.” Minho scolded him.

“Language.” You scolded him in return, even if Hana was asleep in your arms. “I ran away because he wanted to take her away from me.” 

Jisung thought about it for a moment. He looked at Hana then back at you and nodded. “No wonder they want her. They will come for her.” Jisung was scared to ask what the plan was. More he looked at his friend, at his odd behavior and more it worried Jisung. He didn’t hate you, he hated your choice but he also knew you were good for Minho. But you being back with something their enemies wanted badly, was trouble they should avoid. “What’s the plan?” 

“She’s staying with me.” Minho answered without hesitation. 

“Are you mad? She can’t!” Jisung jumped from his place and slammed his hands on the table. “You know they will fight to get her back.” 

“Let them fight. I don’t care.” Minho shrugged. He looked nonchalant about the whole mess and yet you saw through him. He was slowly losing patience. 

“I care!” Jisung insisted. “We’ve been at peace with them for centuries! You can’t throw away the peace just for her!” 

Instead of answering, Minho looked at Jisung right into his eyes. He was cold, indifferent and yet his eyes were burning with rage. “Let them come. I dare them to take Y/N and Hana from me.” 

“Is there really a truce between demons and angels?” You asked as you sat beside Minho on the bench outside his house. The weather was lovely, but it looked too calm for your liking. Especially after the talk with Jisung. Despite Minho’s reassuring words, you couldn’t stop worrying. At any moment angels could appear, provoke a fight in order to get Hana back. And what could you do to stop it? Nothing.

Minho didn’t want to talk about it. Not because it was a forbidden subject but because he had a feeling you would try to leave the moment you found out how bad it could get because of his decision.

“You’re worried because of what Jisung said.” He said instead and observed you. You were avoiding his eyes; your gaze glued to your hands as you kept playing with your fingers, nervous.

“And you’re avoiding my question.”

Minho sighed in defeat. “So stubborn.” Nevertheless, a smile tugged at his lips.

“Minho.”

“Fine. Yes, there is a truce.”

Your heart leapt in your throat at his admission. “I can’t stay here. You had enough shit to deal with.” You stood up from your seat only for Minho to grab your hand and pull you back.

“Don’t even think about it.” He growled dangerously at you. The mention of the truce was enough to turn his mood sour but the mention of you leaving was even worse.

One glance from him should have silenced you but your fears were stronger than his menacing glare.

“You know I can’t stay!” You protested, body fully turned to him. “I brought my problems to your doorstep because I knew the only place I could be safe would be with you. But I didn’t know the consequences. I can’t let you risk all for me.”

“Shut up.” Minho snapped, his eyes turning red. Minho was pissed, alright. He tried desperately to keep his temper in check but your words and the simple mention of you leaving pushed him to the edge.

“Min-“

“You made your choice three years ago. Let me make mine today.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. The moment he opened his eyes, they were back to their normal color. All trace of anger vanished just like that and was replaced with softness and sorrow. “It’s unfair how much hold you have over me, Y/N. It’s dangerous for so many reasons, but it seems that I just don’t care. You could stamp on my heart again and I’ll let you.”

Once more, he took your hand and squeezed gently. His hand was warm and soft and so comforting you almost wept. “I wish I could hate you.”

“But you don’t.”

“No I don’t.”

Living with Minho was everything you had imagined it would be and more. Easy, comfortable, filled with banters and sweet moment that usually involved him and Hana. You easily found the right rhythm that suited the two of you. Whenever he had to leave, he always made sure that someone he trusted stayed behind. Sometimes it was Jisung, sometimes it was another of his friends. All of them were wary of Hana at first and of you of course, but one big smile from Hana and they melted. Especially Jisung.

Just like that six months passed. Hana’s power grew stronger every day; throwing people against walls was the least of your concern. Whenever she threw a tantrum the whole place would shake and things would fly around. If at first it scared you because you had absolutely no clue how to deal with such incredible and powerful baby, you got used to it. Minho happened to be a great help with it too. A flash of his bright red eyes and Hana would always calm down. Sometimes later, you believed, she would go against him but for now it did the trick.

Hana’s powers weren’t the only thing that grew. She did too. Despite being only six months old, she looked much older. And she could talk which made things much easier and your life livelier.

Your life turned out as normal as it could get with a half angel baby and a life with a demon, but there was still one thing that bothered you. The lack of activities from angels. Minho barely talked about it, telling you every single time not to worry, that he would deal with it when times come but it made you wonder. Did he talk to them? Did he persuade them to give up? You gathered from the few conversations with Jisung that Minho was someone angels avoided and would not mess up with unless necessary. It made you wonder just how strong Minho was.

“A problem for another day.” You told yourself as you took a deep breath.

You put the different snacks on the plate and headed outside to join both Minho and Hana. The weather was lovely and perfect, not too hot and not too cold, just what you needed to enjoy a little afternoon all together. A big blanket was splayed on the ground, Minho laying on it with Hana sitting on his chest and clapping her hands.

Despite living under the same roof, you didn’t witness many times his display of power. Today however he was using it freely for Hana’s pure enjoyment. Butterflies formed from shadows flied all around them, all around Hana, playing with her hair. It was a pretty sight and you enjoyed it almost as much as Hana did.

“I think it’s the first time I’m seeing you use your powers.” You admitted as you put the plate beside them but still far enough to avoid any accident. Just as you said those words, a butterfly landed on the tip of your nose, tickling you softly.

Minho looked at you, smiling so fondly, your heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t tell whether it was because of Hana or because of the two of you but you appreciated the moment all the same. His smile was contagious as you leaned to plant a kiss on Hana’s cheek.

“He made so many butterflies! Just for me!” Hana explained to you, voice filled with excitement and cheerfulness as she spread her arms widely for butterflies to land on her.

“Just for you.” Minho confirmed. Then, with a flick of his hand a shadow formed around you, circling you before taking form. “And this one for you.” A black cat made of shadows.

Hana applauded louder than ever and tried to reach for it– she failed and fell beside Minho. The two of you stared at her, trying desperately to stifle the laugh. Minho being the strongest managed, you, not so much. Hana raised her head and glared at you; her glare reminding you awfully of Minho.

“This is so you.” You pointed at her scowl before looking at him. “She’s imitating you.”

“She’s learning from the best.” He said proudly.

You rolled your eyes at him and chose not to respond. Instead, your attention was on the cat that kept turning around you, brushing your knees every now and then. You reached out to pet it and immediately the cat came to bump its head against your hand. Despite it being made of shadows, it felt warm against the palm of your hand. Warm and familiar – like Minho which you supposed made sense, it was his power, a part of him.

“Just wait when Jisung hears about it.” You teased knowing that Minho would rather die than show his soft side to his friend.

“Don’t you dare.” He warned you sounding threatening if not for his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You were tempting the devil, you knew it and didn’t care. “Or what?”

Minho quirked a brow at your provocation. “Do you really want to find out?”

You grabbed a grape and shoved in your mouth to hide your smile, to hide how this little game was truly affecting you – Minho saw it anyway. “Someone is playing with fire.”

“Who?”

“How cute.”

Your blood froze in your veins. You knew this voice. The deceptive one. The one that made you believe that you could love again. The one that managed to get through the walls you had built around yourself after the breakup. The one that seduced you. He was here. He had found them.

In the blink of an eye, Minho was on his feet, standing before you, fists clenched, eyes red. All trace of happiness, of genuine smiles vanished to replace with wrath and the urge to fight. To protect.

You hurried to scoop Hana in your arms as you stood behind Minho, watching five angels standing too close for your liking. They looked relaxed and satisfied. You bet they were. It took them six months to find you and finally they were so close to their goal.

“I’ve been wondering who managed to hide you so well.” Soobin said, unbothered, completely ignoring Minho’s presence. His eyes were on you and on Hana. “But to think you would hide with a demon. I’m both impressed and disgusted.”

Hana was shaking in your arms. Your grip around her tightened. Just like Minho, you were ready to fight if needed. There was no way you would give up your child, your happiness without a fight.

“I believe you have something that belongs to me.” And as he said those words, he took few steps towards you.

His mistake. Maybe he should have paid more attention to Minho. To what and who he was. The moment he took those steps, darkness erupted from everywhere. The beautiful blue sky turned black and so did your surroundings. It felt as if life itself was being sucked from everywhere. It was only then that Soobin’s attention shifted to Minho. His eyes widened in shock before his mouth set in a hard line.

“You.”

You stared at Minho’s back in disbelief and wonder at the same time. You thought you knew what he looked like as a demon, thought the only changes were his eyes. You were wrong. So terribly wrong. Because the man that stood protectively between you and the angels looked completely different. Strange and yet still so familiar.

Black marks covered his arms from his wrist to his shoulders and you suspected it went beyond. The tip of his fingers were black and with claws. Even his hair seemed a little longer. Shadows surrounded him, following his every gesture. He looked absolutely deadly and magnificent.

“Take my advice and leave.” Minho simply said. For the sake of his friends, Minho chose to use threats instead of fighting, no matter how much he wanted to kill them all. So what if some angels went missing from heaven? It wouldn’t be a big deal. Good riddance even.

“I can’t.” Soobin recovered quickly. While his friends were ready to fight, he hesitated. “I really don’t want to fight you. Nothing good will come out of it.”

Minho snorted at that. “Why? Scared that this time I will actually end your miserable existence?”

Minho’s remark made you snap from your observation. As you scrutinized the two men, you quickly realized that they shared a past. They knew each other and not only because they were sworn enemies. No. There was something else and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing.

“Mommy, is Minnie in trouble?” Hana whispered as she glanced at Minho. She outstretched her arm, wanting to reach for him but you stopped her by hugging her tighter against you.

Hana, despite her young age, recognized the danger when faced with it. You couldn’t lie and tell her that you weren’t in trouble, but Minho. Minho looked so composed, so confident, it made you wonder who would come out victorious if they fought.

“Don’t worry.” You whispered to her. “Minho is the strongest person I have ever met. If anything, they are in trouble, not him.” You kissed the crown of her head and prayed that it would be over soon.

“Do you think you can fight all of us?” Soobin dared him. Maybe a part of him truly believed that they stood a chance against Minho. Or maybe he bluffed.

“Want to find out?” There was at least one person who wasn’t bluffing and it was Minho.

He didn’t hesitate, not even for a second as his power spread. From the corner of your eyes you spotted movement; fast and lethal. The shadows took form, solidifying, turning into giant monsters that stood beside Minho, protecting him, waiting for his orders.

“She’s mine.” Minho growled. His growl loud, dangerous and filled with so much venom, goosebumps spread all over your skin in response. You didn’t fear Minho. You trusted him with all your being but it didn’t mean your body didn’t recognize the predator that stood before you. The incredibly beautiful predator.

“She’s mine.” He repeated and you swore you heard the monsters repeat his words.

And his words, his possessiveness echoed in your mind, in your heart. And you watched as this beautiful, dangerous man, despite everything, stood proudly before you. Watched him as he was ready to fight for the two of you, not only because he offered you a roof but because he truly cared for Hana. You heard it in his voice. You saw it every day; he truly loved Hana as his own.

Tears shimmered in your eyes as so many emotions raged inside you. Love, gratitude, pain, longing. All of it.  You couldn’t stop yourself as his name escaped your lips. It was barely audible but he heard it anyway. He always did.

Minho glanced over his shoulder and your eyes locked for a moment.  In this moment, there was so much you wanted to tell him. To tell him you were sorry, to tell him to be careful and that they couldn’t live without a world where he was not. And Minho being Minho understood it. He shook his head and winked playfully at you before returning his attention on the angels.

“Leave.” He said, “You interrupted our peaceful family moment.”

“You’re a fool, Minho.” Was the last thing Soobin said before vanishing along with his friends.

“So I’ve been told.”

The three of you stood in silence for a moment. You, still speechless; because of Minho’s true form and at the same time because he managed to make the angels flee. Minho, because he was still trying to sooth his anger.

“Minho.” You called for him.

Slowly, and after taking a deep breath, he turned to look at you, expecting to see fear and maybe disgust in your eyes. He saw none of it. Instead, he found you standing close to him, your hand outstretched for him to take.

“Let’s get back inside.” And you smiled.

“No! I don’t want to sleep!” Hana protested and kicked her blanket with as much strength as she could muster after a long and rather emotional day.

You frowned at her before looking at Minho in despair. You had tried everything to force her to sleep but nothing worked. It was one of those days.

“What if the bad guys come back?” She muttered as she pressed her teddy-bear closer to her heart. “What if they try to break us apart?”

“Oh baby.” You wrapped your arms around her and pressed a kiss on her forehead. “They won’t come back.” At least you hoped so.

Minho joined you on the bed. He leaned closer to Hana and grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently. “You don’t have to worry about the bad guys. I kicked their-“ He stopped himself on time, glanced guiltily at you, before adding, “I mean, we fought already once and they lost. I’ll fight them again and they will lose. Nobody will take you from me.”

“But what if they try to take mommy away?”

Her words hit deeper than you thought. Too scared to see Minho’s reaction, you kept your eyes on her, but your heart was beating fast and loud. Would he fight for you? You didn’t know and were scared to find out.

“Not going to happen.” Minho confirmed and ruffled her hair fondly. “You have nothing to worry about. So sleep or else we’re not getting your favorite cake tomorrow.”

You looked at him, eyes boring into him at his admission. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but his words soothed your fears, more than you were willing to admit.

Once sure Hana was asleep, the two of you left the room. You wanted to talk some more with Minho, to discuss the incident with the angels but it seemed like Minho was either avoiding you or simply had enough for one night.

“You should go back and sleep.” He advised you without looking at you. “Good night, Y/N.”

The wise thing would definitely be to go back to your room and sleep but you were known for not being very wise. He should have known. Without making any sound, you followed him and you bet he knew it.

Minho went back outside, his shadows following him. It made you stop and observe. It fascinated you how they were simply part of him, always following him, protecting him. They spread behind, almost reaching you and halted as if hesitating to touch you.

“You have a mind of your own?” You felt silly for talking to a shadow but it reacted. It moved again and wrapped around your ankle. You expected to shiver, you expected it to be cold but it wasn’t. It was a warm caress. Just like Minho.

You followed Minho outside and the shadow followed your every step, maybe because it was fun or maybe because it appreciated your company.

Minho’s power spread around the house and marks appeared in the air. You didn’t recognize any of them, not even from your time with Amy, but you easily guessed it was in order to protect the place.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” He asked

“I got distracted.” You admitted

“With what?”

“You.”

Minho chuckled in response, half amused, half surprised with your admission. With his hands tucked in his pockets, he approached you, smirking devilishly at you. And you? You gulped, nervously. To save yourself from this beautiful creature, you averted your eyes from his face.

But Minho was in a rather playful mood. “And how exactly am I distracting you?” A finger under your chin, he tilted your head to make you look at him.

It was pure torture to be so close to him and yet not being able to fully touch him. It was torture to have him watch you so closely – you bit your lips and his eyes followed the gesture.

“Be careful. I might bite.”

Minho thought that nothing could terrify him in this world. He was once more wrong. After the recent events, he came to realize that the idea of losing Hana truly upset him. He couldn’t imagine a day without her. Not anymore. But it wasn’t the only thing that scared him. No. Hearing your screams shattered his heart in thousand pieces.

One scream from you and he was out of his bed and appeared in your room, ready to fight whoever managed to get through his wards. But there was nobody in your room. No signs of breaking. Nothing except for you fighting invisible enemies in your sleep.

“Y/N.” He called for you in hope to wake you from your nightmare.

But you didn’t wake up. Not even when he joined you and grabbed your arms, trying to stop you from hurting yourself. Not even when he took you in his arms and tried to reach your mind.

“Come on, love. Wake up.” He whispered to your ear and kissed your forehead. “You’re safe. Hana is safe. I’m here.”

Minho rocked you in his arms while, slowly, your body started to relax and you stopped fighting. He kept you in his arms and watched your every breath and listened to your heartbeat.

“Come back to me.”

And you did. As you opened your eyes, you were met with the familiar face and soft eyes. With familiar warmth spreading through you.

Minho smiled. “Hi. Bad dream?”

“Yeah. But now I think I’m dreaming again.” You managed to say. You didn’t know what shocked you more; your nightmare or the fact that Minho was in your bed, holding you.

Minho chuckled at your attempt at being funny. “Nope. Not a dream, I’m really here.” And to prove his point, his hold around you tightened. “Make room, I don’t think I can go back to my room now.”

“Who say I want you in my bed?” You obviously wanted him in your bed. Not only because you were scared of having another nightmare, but also because his presence alone was everything you needed. You wanted him close to you, you wanted him to keep holding you.

Minho rolled his eyes and pushed you playfully to make room for himself. He thought he was being polite by asking, but really, his decision was made the moment he got inside your room.

“What a gentleman.” You commented but gladly lifted the blanket for him to settle under.

“A trait of my personality that you used to love.”

“Still do.” You hadn’t meant to speak aloud but the words left your mouth anyway. You froze beside him and then cleared your throat. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“Don’t fret.” Minho pulled you back against him as if it was the most natural thing to do. And it used to and it still felt the same. Good. Right. “Was your nightmare about angels?”

You shut your eyes and tried not to think about it, but the image was still fresh in your mind. “Yes. They were trying to take her away from me.”

“You know that I was sincere when I told Hana that I won’t let them take you away right?” But despite the sincerity in his voice, you didn’t look at him. You didn’t want him to see the tears in the corner of your eyes. Minho gently grabbed your chin and made you look at him. “You do know that there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, right? Nothing I can deny you.”

“I let you out of my sight once. I’m not doing it again.”

After that night, something had changed between you and Minho. Maybe it was because of the attack and fear of another one. You weren’t stupid; it couldn’t be just that easy. One threat from Minho and they left you alone – it didn’t make sense. Or maybe it had nothing to do with the angels and more to do with the late confession.

From the moment you had left Minho, you knew, deep inside you, that it was the biggest mistake of your life. Yes, you were allowed to be scared, to feel insecure and doubt but it was Minho. You should have listened to the little voice – the one that whispered late at night. The one who reminded you every good, magical moments you had spent in his company. The one who reminded you every time you tried to start anew that no matter how nice a man was; nobody could compare to him. Nobody could compare to how he made you feel. How deep was his love for you. You tried to reason yourself. You tried to bury your feelings, your love and your regret.

But look at you right now? You were back to the very same place you had run from. The irony wasn’t lost on you.

And yet, he still cared for you. He was stilling willing to fight for you, protect you from everything and from everyone. You didn’t want to hope, to expect anything more from him but could you really ignore this tiny part of you? You couldn’t. You couldn’t ignore the lingering eyes on you. You couldn’t ignore his little touches; simple brushes of arms that set your skin on fire. You couldn’t ignore the attention he gave you.

“Take a picture. It lasts longer.” Minho teased you. Without realizing it, you had been staring at him for too long, lost in your own little world.

Your face heat up; it was a tad embarrassing to be caught red-handed, especially because you would never hear the end of it. “Why would I when I see the real thing every day?” You managed to say with a huff and averted your eyes from his face.

Minho chuckled at your attempt to save your face but it was too late. He had seen it all and enjoyed every second of it. “Maybe so you can frame it and put it on your bedside table?” He closed his book, finding that teasing you was so much more interesting. He watched you like a hawk as he got closer to you – you took a step back.

“What were you thinking about while staring at me like that?” He grinned as he leaned closer, eyes never leaving yours. He enjoyed the effect he had on you; the flush on your face, your breathing and especially how loudly your heart beat.

You took another step back only to meet the wall. You were trapped and at his mercy. And whatever Minho wanted, he always had it. Including the truth out of you. “Like what?”

Minho’s grin turned into a full smirk. He leaned, a hand resting on the wall right beside your head. “Were you thinking about how handsome I am?” And he leaned even closer, mere inches between you. “Or were you thinking about something naughty? That wouldn’t surprise me.”

You gasped at his words. “Why would I?!” You tried pushing him away for the sake of your sanity. His closeness, even if much appreciated (if not too much), was driving you nuts. You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t think about anything else but his body so close to yours.

But your attempt was another failure. Minho didn’t budge, not even a little.

“So you were.” He teased, unable to stop himself.

“I was not!”

Minho’s lips were hovering over yours, leaving no space between your bodies. His warmth spread through your own body like fire. All you had to do was to tilt your head and you could kiss him. So damn tempting.

“Be honest with me, Y/N. Say what you want.”

And it would be so easy, wouldn’t it?

Not under Hana’s watch.

“Mommyyyyyyy!” Hana called while running in the room, so fast Minho had barely the time to put some space between you. “Look, look!”

You tried, you really did, but your dizziness prevented you from concentrating on anything other than the man beside you and the thought that you almost kissed. Almost.

“What is it?” Minho was the one to recover, fast, as always.

Hana showed him the palm of her hand, proudly. Tiny balls of light floated around her hand. Slowly at first and then it spread. The balls got bigger and slowly the shape changed and turned into butterflies, identical to the ones Minho had made for her, except they were made of lights and not shadows.

Minho whistled, impressed with how easily Hana managed to learn the trick. How easily she managed to learn to control her power. He crouched to be at her level and admired her work closer. Impressive indeed.

“Well done.” He ruffled her hair.

From the day you started living with Minho, and especially after the little visit from angels, there was one thing you didn’t think you would ever witness. A talk between Soobin and Minho.

You woke up in the middle of the night, thirsty and a little disoriented. You didn’t know what time it was except for the fact that it was still late considering the darkness you spotted from your window. Without making any noise, you hurried to get to the kitchen, wanting to go back as quick as possible to the warmth of your bed. But before you could walk back to your room, you noticed that the front door was opened. Not widely but enough to worry you. Your instinct told you to get to Minho, to warn him but your body moved on its own. You walked on tiptoes. Closer you got and louder the voices got from outside. Voices that you recognized easily. Voices that you didn’t expect to hear so soon together.

“I can’t believe you would go so far for a human.” Soobin admitted as he ruffled his hair in frustration. “You used to kill them on sight.”

You clasped your hand over your mouth to prevent any noises, to stop yourself from gasping out loud. Why the hell was Soobin here? And more importantly, why did he look so comfortable around Minho? It didn’t make much sense.

“Y/N is special.” Minho simply replied without elaborating.

Soobin paused to observe Minho. The demon he knew would have never praised a human, no matter how pretty the person was. “She’s human. A pretty one, yes, but still human.”

“One that bore your child. You can’t deny she’s special.” Minho reminded him. It hurt him to even mention the fact that Hana was his child, he wished he could forget this fact but he also needed Soobin to realize that you weren’t just any human. You were different.

“When you put it like that.” He sighed. “You know the child is special. I want her.” He winced when Minho’s eyes flashed red. A silent warning that Soobin took seriously as he raised his hands in defense. “Are you really going to start another war for them?”

Minho didn’t answer. He had the answer right on the tip of his tongue but his attention was somewhere else. On you. Despite your attempt at being discrete, he could feel you, too close to them for his liking. Soobin, on the other hand, was oblivious.

“But it’s not only about the child, is it?” Soobin realized in disbelief. “It’s about Y/N. Is she worth it?”

“To me? Yes.” Minho took a dangerous step towards him. Everything about him screamed danger. Just one wrong word and this almost friendly encounter would turn to a bloody one. “I don’t particularly like you, Soobin. But I don’t hate you. But should you come back with an army, I will fight you and I will end you for good, this time. I won’t let her go. Not her and not Hana.”

“Is it a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

Soobin shook his head. “You’re crazy.” Only then, he noticed you by the door. You couldn’t help yourself as you got closer, body shaking and teary eyes. His own eyes softened at your sight. He liked you, in his own odd way. Yes, you were a special human.

“And I must be crazy too.” Soobin sighed in defeat. “Take care of them. I can’t promise you that we won’t be back. But I’ll take in consideration your promise.” And with that he vanished into the darkness of the night.

“What a pain in the ass.” Minho groaned and turned to face you. He observed you for a moment, frowning at your state. “Why are you crying?”

Minho knew from the moment he felt your presence you would end up hearing them but he didn’t care. He had nothing to hide; not his business with angels and definitely not how he felt about you. It was about time he addressed the matter and tonight seemed like the perfect opportunity to do so. 

“I-“ But no words left your mouth, too overwhelmed with your own feelings. 

The corner of his mouth quirked up as he got closer to you. “Say it.” Minho knew you well enough to know what was going through your mind. He always could read you easily, then and now. 

It frustrated you how easily his words unsettled you, how easily your heart answered his call. You didn’t want to hide how you felt, how badly you wanted to go back to what you were. But you didn’t deserve it. Not after hurting him over and over again. 

“Y/N. Say it.” His voice was calm and gentle when really, inside he was dying to hear you say it. He wanted to hear your confession and ease his mind and heart. 

“I don’t deserve you.” You finally managed to whisper through tears. “I can’t say it, Minho.” 

He shook his head and gently cupped your face. “I still want to hear it.” 

You looked at him, heart roaring in your ears. “I’m sorry.” There was so much you should apologize for, but your mind was a mess and you weren’t sure you could convey all your feelings. But you still were willing to try. For you, for Hana, for him. Especially for him. Because Minho deserved it. He was always there for you, then and now. He showered you with love then and he still did it today. He showered Hana with the same love when he could have hated her for what she was. But he didn’t. 

“I’m sorry for leaving you. I’m sorry for being an idiot and getting scared. I should have listened to my heart. I should have known that despite being a demon, you were sincere, that you cared so much for me. I’m sorry for hurting you.” 

Minho stroked your cheek with his thumb, gently wiping your tears. “When you showed up at my doorstep, I really wanted to slam the door to your face. Just the sight of you brought back unwanted feelings, unwanted needs. But I couldn’t do it. I saw how fragile you were and my heart refused to let go. Refused to let my bitterness stands between you and me.”

“I’m sorry.” You repeated. You bit on your lips to prevent another sob but your face told him everything he needed to know.

Minho leaned over and kissed your right eye, tasting your tears, and then the left one. “I never stopped loving you. Not even when you broke my heart.” He kissed your nose, your cheeks, making you tremble even more. “I’m not letting you go again and if it means I have to start another war then so be it.”

“You’re cra-zy.” You managed to say through a hiccup.

“Can you blame me?”

You couldn’t.

Satisfied with your reaction, Minho kissed the only part of your face he hadn’t touched, the only part he desperately wanted to touch. At first, it was a simple brush of his lips, light and hesitant. Maybe he was giving you one last chance to pull back, to escape – as if you would. Never again. Minho’s hold on your face tightened as he pressed his lips a little stronger, unable to hold back any longer. And he didn’t need to; you wrapped your arms around his, tightly as if your life depended on him. And you kissed him back with the same enthusiasm, with the same need and despair.

“I love you.” He whispered against your lips. “Don’t ever leave me again, Y/N.”

The simple mention of leaving brought back tears to your eyes. You clung to him as strongly as you could, shutting his mouth with yours. In that moment you realized that you would rather die than leave him again.

“Never again.” You promised

Minho scooped you in his arms. A peck on your lips followed by a smile so bright you weren’t sure you had ever seen it on his face.

He carried you back inside the house and straight to his room. Minho dropped you on his bed. He stood by his bed for a moment, admiring the sight of you in his bed, admiring your parted lips, admiring the look in your eyes. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. And there was so much he wanted to do to you. He wanted to taste you, to claim you and make sure that nobody would ever touch you. He wanted to make you scream and make you remember who you belonged to.

“Are you sure about it?” He asked one last time for good measure.

You smiled at his attempt, at his gentleness. You spread your arms widely. “Come and claim me.”

Minho closed his eyes and took a short moment to calm himself, to let your words sink in. You were his. He grabbed the edge of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

Despite knowing his body for years, you couldn’t help but suck in your breath in amazement, in need. He was so helplessly perfect. Strong, lean body that you were dying to touch again, to feel the smoothness of his skin against you.

“You’re drooling.” Minho teased, yet incredibly satisfied with your reaction.

“Can’t be helped when you look this good.” You didn’t try to deny, there was no point when your body was reacting so strongly to his presence.

Minho’s hands found their way to your ankles, softly massaging them making you moan in response at his gentle touch. Slowly, his hands travelled from your ankles to your calves, to your knees, setting your body on fire. You were burning with need and longing.

He grabbed your shorts and pulled them just as slowly from you. He knew that you were desperately needing more and so did he, but where would be the fun if he gave everything to you right away? It all came apart the moment he realized you weren’t wearing any panties; the scent of your arousal hit his senses. He let out an animalistic growl. This same fucking sweet scent that used to drive him crazy.

Growing just as impatient, you took off your shirt and threw it somewhere on the floor, eyes never leaving Minho. Your heart was roaring; your body was burning. “Touch me.”.

In response, Minho leaned over you and claimed your lips in a heated kiss. His hands were roaming freely all over your body, touching, groping, fondling. “So fucking beautiful.” He dragged your lower lip playfully with his teeth. His lips trailed from your lips down to your neck, leaving bright marks. He marked every inch of your skin; your neck, your chest, your stomach.

“Can’t believe you’re a mom.” He planted kisses all over your stomach, worshipped every tiny scars, marks that were left on your body. “And such a good mom.”

The moment his lips connected with your clit, all air left your lungs; your body jerked in response. Minho feasted on you, savoring the sweet taste of you, the one he had missed for so long. The stroke of his tongue were determined, determined to make you scream, to make you come apart with just his tongue.

“Minho,” You moaned as your head fell back. Your body responded to his touches so easily, so eagerly. There was no stopping. You couldn’t ignore how loud your heart beat. You couldn’t ignore how wetter and how your body tingled with every flick of his tongue. But you needed more. You rocked your hips against his tongue, seeking to feel more, to feel him deeper.

“I want to spend the whole night buried between your legs.” Minho confessed and glanced at you from between your legs. The sight of his mouth covered with your wetness made you clench around nothing. He looked absolutely sinful and gorgeous.

“Minho, please.” You begged, your body aching with need of release.

“What is it?” He teased and gave a harsh suck. “Use your words.”

As if you could when he was devouring you like this. He knew it and still teased.

“Please, I’m so close.” You mewled and pushed your hips closer. “Please.”

“How can I say no when you beg so prettily?” He kept licking and sucking with even more eagerness, more strength. His grip on your ass tightened, fingers digging into your skin as he ravaged you.

“Minho!” You cried out as a wave of orgasm hit you.

He could have stop, could have let you a moment to recover but Minho was insatiable. He wanted and needed more; more of you, more of your taste, even if it meant to drive you crazy. So he kept feasting on you. He didn’t stop. Not when your body trembled under his assault. Not when you grabbed his hair and pulled, softly at first and stronger as your sensitive body was torn between the wish to pull away from him and let him end you right on the spot. He didn’t stop when a second orgasm hit you, even stronger than the first. He didn’t stop even when a third one hit you, so powerful you screamed his name.

“Please, I can’t.” You begged, tears streaming down your face, half delirious. Your whole body was so sensitive; you couldn’t bear it.

Minho smirked at you, pleased with his work, pleased with the way you looked; lips swollen, body covered with his marks and pussy wet and ready to take him. He quickly disregarded his last piece of clothes before going back to you, his hands sliding up and down your legs – you shook under the touch, still sensitive.

“Guess you forgot what it’s like to be overstimulated.” He mocked, “I bet it was boring with the angel.”

Even in your dizziness you understood his words, his innuendo. If you had any strength left, you would have scoffed at his words, instead you nudged him with your leg. A weak attempt at showing your annoyance.

“Should I remind you what you really like? Hm?” He challenged you. “Should I remind your pussy that it was made for me? Only me?”

“Stop talking and just show me.” You provoked him, knowing too well that he would make you pay and that it would leave you shattered and unable to walk for the next five business day. Exactly what you needed.

“So bold.” But he loved it. With ease he flipped you over. His hands found their rightful place on your ass. Such a beautiful one that used to be red with his handprints. He caressed your ass, lovingly, slowly and then gave it a strong first slap followed by another and another. Your body jerked as you moaned.

“Much better.” Minho gently rubbed your now bright red skin. “You look pretty with your ass all red.”

“Minho, I need you inside, right now.” You half begged half ordered. Despite his grip on your hips, you pushed your hips against him, needing to feel him.

“So impatient.” He shook his head. He took his hard, angry cock and brushed the tip against your folds – you whimpered.

“Please,” You begged, “I need you so badly.”

With one thrust, Minho buried himself deep inside you, welcoming your warmth. “Fuck, love, you feel so good.” He stilled, savoring your tightness – his cock twitched inside of you. “Since you begging me, you’re going to take everything I give you like a good girl right?”

“I will.” You promised as you gripped the sheets beneath you tightly, bracing yourself for the storm to come. You knew Minho was no longer able to control himself, to hold back, even if he tried. He was at his limits and you were more than ready for him to snap.

And he did. From the very beginning, he set a strong and fast rhythm, pounding into you mercilessly and you took it like a good girl. You accepted every thrust, his strong grip on your hips that would leave another set of bruises – and you didn’t care. With every powerful thrust, your eyes rolled back in your head.

“So fucking good.” Minho groaned and slammed his hips. “Taking me like a good little slut. I told you, this pussy was made for me.”

“Just for you.” You chocked. “I-m,I’m close.”

“But do you deserve to come?” He wondered.

Minho let go of your hips and you fell face on the bed, unable to hold on your own. It didn’t last; Minho grabbed a fist of your hair and pulled you against him. You arched your back, exposing your delicate neck.

“Tell me,” He whispered to your ear, “Tell me why you deserve to come hm?”

“I-“ But your words were lost; Minho’s free hand slid to where you were connected and found your clit. He played with you, making sure you wouldn’t be able to think straight, that you wouldn’t be able to answer back.

“I guess you don’t deserve to come. Should I stop?” As if he could stop.

“No!” You screamed as he kept playing with you. You were so close you could taste your orgasm. “Please, Minho. Let me come.”

He pulled your hair a little stronger and bit on your flesh. “Then tell me.”

“I love you!” You screamed, “Please, please, please.” You were a mess. A beautiful, sticky mess. His mess.

“Then come.”

You convulsed violently around him, eyes rolling back in your head. Minho’s thrusts got sloppier as he helped you through your orgasm while seeking his own. Minho stilled and let out a loud and deep groan as he spilled into you, letting you take all of him, not wasting any single drop.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath. He pulled out slowly, dragging the moment and admired as his cum slowly dripped from you. “Your pussy looks amazing.” He scooped the cum that was leaking from you and pushed it back inside you.

“Minho, too sensitive.” You whimpered, unable to take any more.

“Sorry,” He peppered your shoulder, your back with kisses. “Can’t help it.” He plopped beside you and pulled you in his arms, kissing the crown of your head.

Your body ached, every part of it but it was worth it. The bliss that followed was even more worth it. You were back to where you belonged to. His bed, his arms, his heart. You kissed his chest, feeling his heart beat wildly and tilted your head.

“I love you.” You told him again. “I loved you then and I love you even more now.”

“Now that’s the mind-blowing sex talking.”

You groaned and hit his chest. “And the moment is ruined.”

But Minho laughed heartily and pressed you tightly against him. “No, it’s not. And I love you too.”

#stray kids #lee know #stray kids smut #lee know smut #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #han jisung #stray kids scenario #lee minho #not over you

[ratzmatazz]

I think I got possessed by charlie chaplin and the only way I can tell this story is by greentext I hope you all understand

>be me (20 year old fool) >live in nyc >walking around and realize I haven’t eaten and also need to do some work so I decide to go to a cafe >walk around for like 30 minutes until I finally find one, looks great very peaceful plenty of people working >walk inside order bagel the guy behind the counter is french(???) and he talks slowly but my brain is on autopilot so I look like an asshole who talks too fast because nyc cafes are usually a quick-time event and I'm disrupting the cafe zen I guess >panic order first bagel I see to redeem myself >ice coffee and loaded bagel (whatever that is) is 20 dollars altogether >whatever the place looks nice for work >barista gives me a number stand for my bagel and I walk away and stand in the main space before realizing I need to still get my coffee? Come back looking even more like an asshole >coffee is in incredibly inconvenient glass cup and filled to the brim too >sugar station is right next to barista so he watches me now pour an obscene amount of sugar syrup but very very slowly >sugar syrup pourer is mildly broken and every time I try to get it to flow faster than "pouring cold tar" it squirts a pump onto the table >sit down >realize I’m sitting in their fucking decorative ~aesthetic~ chair and not a real fucking table >spend 2 minutes slowly dragging a table closer before realizing I look insane and moving all my stuff >still sitting in decorative chair during all of this >guy talking to his friend nearby is watching me and trying not to laugh at me out loud >preparing myself for putting the table back and admitting defeat >do not take coffee off of table >stand up for this but the table is lighter than expected and I tilt the table when I try to scoot it back >coffee leans slowly and cartoonishly close to falling over but I quickly scoot the table over and put it down before it can fully tip and ruin me forever >do this routine of up and down table 3 fucking times moving it back >sit down in shame at real table >guy talking to his friend subtly angles himself to be watching me over his friend's shoulder >take out laptop to work and it’s out of power >no biggie I’ll plug it in I even sat next to four power outlets :) >try first one >no good >try next one >all four outlets don’t work. >want to leave but still have bagel so maybe life is good >bagel arrives >no fucking cream cheese on my bagel. >lady who brings out my bagel is an elderly old-school nyc lady who looks at me with barely hidden disgust for my unknowing bagel monstrosity of 99% spring mix, warm cucumber slices, three pieces of bacon, and a fried egg >bagel is too tall for the second bagel piece to go on top of the bagel >trash can is right next to barista so they’ll see me throw out the untouched shameful top of the bagel too >table is also too small for the bagel plate and my laptop and too cramped for me to easily put it away >eat with laptop on lap (top) (haha) >bite bagel >runny yolk >egg bursts >YOLK ALL OVER LAPTOP. >guy still watching me >tiny courtesy napkin to wipe up my egg shame. >humiliating smooth jazz is playing during all of this. >charlie chaplin's ghost finally releases me from my torment.

#greentext #news from the ant hill #original post #god it's really haunting me

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2, day 1

Danny had no idea what he was doing. There. He admitted it. He had found a book of spells that reminded him of Sam and stole it on instinct. He didn't have much money after running away. He didn't even have the chance to grab one of his Go Bags as his parents fired on him.

Good news was that ghost powers made it very easy to steal stuff. Now with a book that has actual magic spells in it? He'd never go hungry again! It was kinda weird though. New dimension or not he didn't think a grocery store would sell multiple copies of spellbooks just out in the open like this. They were clearly new and a product or modern manufacturing so it wasn't like it was some ancient relic or anything.

Hmm. A mystery for later then. In the meantime he was going to go around Gotham turning rogues and random jerks into frogs! It went pretty well. There was a mass Arkham breakout not too long ago and Danny was having an absolute blast sneaking up and froggifying people while wearing a cheap glittery devil masquerade mask. Once suitable frogged he trapped them in a magic bubble and left them on the rooftops for the bats to find.

This went awry however when one of the local vigilantes, Robin, tried to attack him from above. On reflex he turned Robin into a frog and freaked out, "Okay. Crud. Okay. I can fix this!" He said while picking up the tiny vigilante, "Just promise not to hurt me and i'll turn you back!"

The angry ribbiting told him that the vigilante would agree to no such thing, "In that case," Danny used his ghost powers to make a human sized ice cage and placed the frog inside. The cages bars were thin but sturdy. It would take Robin only a few good hits to break out of it but by that time the mysterious magic user would have had a head start.

Unfortunately, Danny had just started the spell that would turn Damian back when one of his siblings, Tim, got the jump on him...and got similarly froggy for it. Now there were two frogged bats and a startled magic user.

Danny looked up at the rooftops to see more and more bats staring at him. And the just froggified Red Robin. And the frog version of regular Robin. In a cage. This looked bad. After dodging a batarang Danny apologized to the frogs and quickly yelled, "Not today satan!" At batman before dropping a smoke bomb and teleporting away.

Later at the batcave Damian and Tim were placed in different enclosures to keep their new forms healthy and to prevent any frog on frog violence as they sort this out. At first they thought this was a meta who could turn people into frogs but that was quickly ruled out due to Damian and Tim both typing on devices and telling them about the ice powers.

Thus begins Danny's attempts to find the frogged siblings and turn them back before he gets stabbed by an angry bird and Robin and Red Robins attempts to escape to find this magic user cause it was clear that he had cursed them by accident and had wanted to turn them back right away.

They're family keeps trying to stop them though saying its too dangerous to go out as a frog and they don't know what that magic users intentions were. They didn't really have much choice however seeing at Constantine couldn't help them.

The trench coated brit and said this magic was like nothing he had ever felt before and he would have to do some research. Which lead to the boys swinging across rooftops as amphibians and probably making more than a few people question what was in thier coffee.

#halloween prompts #prompts #fanfiction prompts #dp x dc #danny fenton #danny phantom #tim drake #robin #damian wayne #red robin #yum #magic #danny is going to get caught up in a custody battle isnt he? #adoption bait danny

[evilminji]

You know what's my JAM?

Extremes being treated as the Serious Dangers they ARE, even when they aren't "oooh its a spooky Grey morality and BADness!" Extreme.

Like? No, people. ALL of them are bad. They are ALL face melting dangerous. The void may crush your soul, but look upon the Face Of GOD? Not gonna be having a fun time! Doesn't MATTER if he's a cool dude! Face melting!

We are creatures of BALANCE. Tiny, fragile, little motes of dust. That can only exsist in the careful, blended, dances of territories and powers that be. We squishy.

Ghosts? Less squishy.

Poor impulse control, too. Especially ones with Fenton genetics. ABSOLUTELY ones with Fenton genetics and a trauma based aversion to therapy. That one? Pretty hardy. Made pretty tough, what with being Fates third favorite chew toy. But? Still gets the Sads, you know? The slightly longer then just seasonal depression.

Would medicine and some therapy help? Oh like a dream!

If medicine WORKED on his Ectoplasmicly contaminated ass. And he TRUSTED therapists.

But... surely, Danny thinks, as he sits grossly in his Depression sweatpants and eats suspect pizza on the floor of his moldering shoebox of an apartment, there must be SOME way to address his Depression? He should... he should DO something about it. Take a break maybe. Look up some ghost doctors or something.

.....

Oooooooooor..... >.>

He could break out that OMENIOUS af, bound in suspect leather, Big Book Of Forbidden Knowledge(TM) that he got from Pariah's.... what, fourth? Fifth? Library? Fuck that Lair is huge. He's STILL cleaning it out and it's been over half a decade. He swears it spawns more floors just to mock him. Bastard. Don't know HOW a building can be a Bastard, but it sure found A WAY.

Anyway!

Book it is! *horrifying Eldritch light as he opens it* huh. Neat. Comes with its own visual effects. *another bite of suspect pizza* Funky.

And so! Danny, the depressed King Of The Zone... fucks of to go cheer himself up in the Fields Of Bliss(TM), an area of Absolute Bliss. Which! Sounds GREAT in theory, now don't it? Lovely even.

Remember that little comment about extremes?

You can ENTER those fields. But no one leaves. No one CAN. The deeper you go? The more doomed you become. Less will to do anything at all. Eat, talk, move. So much as think. Like ALL extreme "Goods", it sounds lovely, but the reality is no gentle little thing.

It's a glue trap.

But how could Danny have known? Honestly, who would have TAUGHT him? Textbooks can only go so far, after all. And placing blame will not rescue the young monarch.

I imagine it's one of his helpers that pieces together what's happened. Come for further clarification on WHERE exactly he wants certain statues moved. Only? Your Majesty? Your Majesty...? Where ever could he BE? Oh? He's left out some of his books. Well, I'll just assist by putting them away for-.....

Oh.

OH ANCIENTS, NO.

But! What can the poor man DO? Ghosts are Beings of Will, Emotion, and Obsession. Were it some sort of Holy Blade or Sentient Tree, you know, something INDIVIDUAL with a will they could FIGHT? Oh no problem. But an area of effect? Especially an EMOTIONAL area of effect!? Ooooooh, this is bad. The Zone can't AFFORD to lose ANOTHER King!

We JUST GOT THIS ONE!!!

Wait. He's heard that there's an organization for this! That loudly cursing fellow who got violently thrown back into the Zone. "Ruined his fun" and all that! Perfect! He'll just hire THEM!

Smashcut? To a nice, peaceful, everybody's screaming Justice League Meeting. John's cursing life, extremely hungover. Zatana still has three cracked ribs. Wonder Woman is enjoying the new sword she... liberated... mid battle. Truely stunning craftsmanship. When?

Knock Knock!

Heads swivel. There... is a glowing green... accountant? Dandy? Dandy accountant. With an equally radioactive day glow green Actual Pirate's Chest Of Treasures, floating next to him. In the void of space; Just beyond the glass. What, the, fuuuuuu-

He seems to be under the impression they are some sort of Heroic mercenaries. And has come to request the retrieve-

"NNNNNOPE! Pariah can SHOVE it!" Snarls a suddenly very awake John Constantine, sitting up straight for the first time in hours. The rest of Dark grimly nod in agreement. Let the fucker rot. It's a kinder fate then he deserves.

No, no, NO! King PHANTOM! Pariah's SUCCESSOR by right of combat! They are not, and were never, allied in any way!

Well, all right then. Road trip to save a young idiot then.

@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #minji's writing