#I didn't want this to be short but I cut it short for time reasons

[a-new-romantic]

paris ♡ (azriel x reader)

a/n: heavily, heavily inspired by paris by taylor swift. lyric for lyric, in fact. IF YOU HATE IT, DON'T READ IT! i love taylor swift, her music is my inspiration.

summary:

azriel lounged in the living room at the house of wind, shadows resting beside him as he flicked through a book the house had recommended to him. the sun shone softly on him as he hummed quietly as he drunk in the words, captured by the story.

his peace was suddenly ruined as cassian came bursting through the double doors, closing the book azriel was holding and placing it down on the table.

"AZ! did you hear?" he asked hurriedly, as if the news couldn't wait.

"what?" azriel replied back, calmly as if he already knew what cassian was on about.

"your ex friend's met someone at a club, and he kissed her!" cassian began.

azriel nodded, his mind already wandering off, away from the gossip that cassian was spewing and towards you. thoughts of you reading, sleeping, eating, anything really. he is utterly in love with you.

"turns out, it was that guy you hooked up with AGES ago! some inner circle wannabe," cassian continued, eyebrows shooting up to emphasize the absurdity of the situation.

azriel did nothing but stare blankly at cassian, a short "mhm," escaping him.

"nesta even said that their outfits were terrible, 100 years ago unbearable," cassian stated, no room to disagree.

azriel opened his mouth to respond, before he felt that familiar bond tug in his chest, and feelings of need flowed in from you. you were in your home and you wanted to be with him as you cooked dinner for that.

"did you see them? i'm sure rhysand can show you, let me get him-" cassian started, interrupted by azriel not shortly after.

"no i didn't, but thanks though." he stated, rushing out of the room to fly off on the balcony towards velaris.

cassian stared at the retreating form of his brother. "what the hell?" he said outloud before he too left the living room.

-----

"where have you been azriel? we've been worried sick about you. you've been taking more breaks from spy work than usual-" feyre asked, wanting to know the reasoning behind azriel's seeming detachment.

"yeah, have we been giving you too much to do? i can cut back, brother,"rhysand assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

feyre nodded before continuing, "you've been missing important meetings and now you're telling me you just didn't know some of the biggest news regarding our social relationship with the autumn court? this isn't like you azriel. we're all really worried."

the whole inner circle stared at the interaction with wide eyes, nodding along to what the high lord and lady were saying.

azriel knew in that moment that there wasn't much else he could do. he had to tell his family about you. with a gentle tug sent down the bond, he began.

"i found my mate," he stated simply. everyone gasped in either joy, awe, or wonder.

"that's great, but why is it distracting you this much from the court?" rhysand asked, high lord as ever.

"please rhys," azriel pleaded, "like you never felt this with feyre? i'm so in love that i might stop breathing." he said breathlessly, as if even the thought of you took his breath away.

he turned to feyre and continued, "no i didn't hear the news, i was busy being in love."

"why didn't you tell us?" cassian asked, seemingly butthurt at the witheld information.

privacy sign on the door, on my page, and on the whole world.

"i think i wanted to keep this one to myself for the time being," azriel admitted. "after all, romance is not dead if you keep it just yours," he muttered.

he knew that he had to field his family's questions, have them meet you, and go through the formalities. but feeling you tug back on the bond was all he needed in that moment.

a/n: this sucks, i'm sorry.

[rabioa]

First Cut

Alastor x Nurse!Reader - Fluff - Gender Neutral

Alastor has never cared much for the residents of the hotel, but with you, he couldn't help but grow curious. You were so attentive to everyone's health so would you care about him as much? He knows you're scared of him just like everyone else, but maybe your generosity outweighs your logic? Oh, that would be so delightful. You had a bleeding heart so aren't you a helpful little doll! You ought to be rewarded for your boldness, truly

TW: Alastor gets a cut on purpose for your attention, any Hazbin Hotel warnings

My first short fanfic about Alastor!! I love him so much omg :3 i intend to make a part 2 where Alastor returns the favor. I hope you enjoy this and as always, any feedback would be super appreciated!!! Remember to hydrate and remember that you are loved!!!! <333

Imagine you were a nurse while you were alive, and for whatever reason you ended up in Hell. Despite your sins, you still wanted to help others. It's that desire to heal others that led you to the Hazbin Hotel. You had been staying there for a few weeks now, getting used to the new dynamics of everything.

Alastor definitely took notice of you; you weren't quite an employee, yet you somehow became the resident nurse. You fretted over everyone: constantly providing hangover cures for Husk, painkillers for Angel Dust after a filming session, band aids for Niffty, and other medical attention as needed for everyone.

Although you were initially shy around Lucifer, you eventually got comfortable enough to take care of him too. You ensured he got food in his system and some fresh air, even after he locked himself in his room all day.

Much to Alastor's amusement, you wormed yourself into everybody's heart besides his. He noticed how formal and stiff you were around him, growing meek in his presence. You were intimidated by him. It didn't stop you from being polite and sweet though, you just tried your best to slip out of the room whenever he appeared. He was trouble, and you knew that.

Imagine one day though, you're both in the kitchen. He was cooking something for the hotel, a luxury he blessed the hotel with often. You were restocking some ice packs (because a certain spider demon wouldn't return them to their place after each use!). You kept your distance, quiet as a mouse as you placed the melted packs into the freezer. 

Alastor observed you, the way you nervously worked. Your hands would fumble in their rush to be done. He had to give you credit though, you looked composed compared to most other demons.

He continued to chop some vegetables. He was skilled with a knife, moving with lethal efficiency. It was something you noted with apprehension. Still, you focused on your task, not wanting to interact with the terrifying Radio Demon.

Unfortunately for you, he found you amusing. You were bold enough to demand the king of Hell himself eat three square meals a day, yet you were a shivering mouse under his gaze. He briefly wondered though, despite your fear, does your kindness extend to him? 

He decided on an experiment. He was no coward to pain; he had been cut by a blade many times in his life. To become both a skilled chef and killer took trial and error with knives. That was why when he sliced his hand, he didn't even flinch. It was a meager gash on the back of his hand. He let the knife clatter against the counter loud enough to draw your attention. 

“Hmmm,” he let out a disapproving hum at the injury, not so subtly forcing you to see his wound. A performance of sorts. 

“You're injured!” you noted with surprise. Your first reflex was to step closer to him, the ice packs now forgotten. Then you looked at his face staring intently at yours. Oh, this was Alastor. Did you really want to risk angering him by fretting over him? But then again, he was hurt, and you were never one to turn a blind eye to someone in pain. 

Alastor's grin widened when he watched your eyes bouncing back and forth between his hand and his face. He could almost hear the gears in your head turning, trying to figure out if your fear would overcome your morals. He knew human nature well; you might put on a brave front, but just like all the others, you're a meek little ant in the face of his power. 

“It appears so, dear. Would you care to do something about it?” He prompted you, glee in his voice. 

The joy in his voice was undoubtedly a red flag in your book, but you gave in. You let out a huff, a sound you often made when dealing with troublesome patients, before finding the kitchen medical kit. You moved with familiarity, placing the kit on the counter and gently guiding his hand towards you.

Although he expected the kit, he didn't expect you to gently grab his hand and bring it towards you. On instinct, his hand twitched closed around yours for a moment, his claws warning you of how easily he could tear you apart. Your breath had hitched, but your plan remained.

“We need to disinfect the wound first. That knife could've been contaminated,” you muttered. It was mainly to fill up the silence lingering in the air like an insistent plague. His hand relaxed, appeased by your explanation. 

You grabbed an alcoholic wipe and carefully cleaned the wound, the wipe turning red. Your face was still, focused. 

Alastor watched in small surprise, not expecting you to be so attentive towards him. He was so used to other demons being too scared to think straight, yet here you were, touching him so casually. Your touch didn't even feel too incredibly invasive. Instead, it felt professional, but not cold.

You were glad the sting didn't make him react too much, disinfecting the wound going well. You then pulled out a strip of bandage. “The cut isn't too big, so it just needs to be covered as it heals, but I know you wear gloves, so it needs to be extra secured so the glove doesn't mess with it,” you explained. You carefully wrapped it up, and finally finished with your work. You looked up at him, gauging his reaction. 

He tested the treatment, clenching his hand a few times. That seemed to satisfy him. He looked at you and you couldn't help but fidget, averting your eyes. He was still unnerving as fuck, but at least he didn't try to eat you alive?

You began to put your supplies away, but his voice demanded your attention once more. You shifted your gaze over to him when he began to speak.

“Well, aren't you a helpful little doll! You ought to be rewarded for your boldness, truly,” he mused. He picked up the knife with his good hand. You stumbled back a little, bumping into the counter. He twirled the knife as you watched with wide eyes, oh God, maybe he was going to kill you now? Or torture you? You really were bold, oh God. 

He twirled the knife in his hands, the metal glinting menacingly at you. Then he angled it away from the both of you as if holding up a finger. “I'll make you some Gumbo!” He grinned merrily at you. Your paled expression during his teasing had him absolutely delighted. He couldn't help but poke some fun at you, scaring you to your wit's end. 

“O-Oh, thank you… sir,” you let out the breath you were holding, relief flooding your system. 

“Now why don't you go rest up and I'll call you when supper is ready?” He ordered you, waving you off with his bandaged hand.

“Ah, sure, after I finish my-” you trailed off as you looked towards the freezer. Black inky tentacles glowing green were doing your job, placing the ice packs in neatly. “Thank you,” you muttered in surprise. That was one job finished.

“You are quite the diligent little mouse! You should take a break and take care of yourself,” he hummed, leaning against the counter as he watched you. 

Shivers went up your spine, the hairs on your neck prickling. You sighed, forcing the tension in your body to disperse. “Thanks. I suppose I do need to take a break,” you agreed. You didn't have the best sleep schedule, and you could go for a nap after staying up a bit late tending to Husk and then getting the scare of your death. You shuffled out of the kitchen.

Now that Alastor was alone, he began to reflect. You weren't boring, that was for sure. He would definitely have to tease you more. You looked so adorable when focused, why he could just eat you up! He looked back down at his hand, looking at the carefully bound bandages. You remembered he wore gloves. You even took it into consideration. How awfully kind of you. Well, he took it upon himself to reward your kindness with relentless teasing from him.

After all, you were like a shiny new toy for him to bat around. He would see how long it would take to get you around his finger. He clenched his fist, ignoring the pain erupting from the cut. He readied his knife and grabbed his half-cut vegetable to continue his work.

He was getting ahead of himself, getting so excited over his future plans. First, he needed to make some Gumbo.

[fuk1ngb1tch]

Kids and my AU Flowey + Extra

Raaah more Undertale au art upon thee!! I love my silly au<33 but this time it isn't just the au- (which is called Mutated Cores) but I'll talk about that last. Anyway talking about the drawings and characters under the cut to save space, which will also have cropped versions of the image<3

First, I'll talk about my AU version of Flowey the Flower. Look at this silly mf

He's MUCH bigger. Context: Frisk is 10 years old!(A little short for their age, but yk) "Normal flower size" is how big he used to be. He's still got the same personality as og Flowey though.

Anyway, I made an OC! And drew Clover!! The OC is the integrity soul, the soul that fell before Clover! Her name is Quaver (Eighth note) and they go by She/They pronouns^^ (oh, and, she's clover's older sister^^)

Btw individual closeups of Clover and Quaver cause I feel like it<3

She fell into the underground when she was 13, and when Clover was 7, Clover going to the underground 4 years later, when they were 11.

Man, I wonder why two siblings both fell in the underground. Definitely had nothing to do with their shitty parents 👁️👁️(headcanon of mine for clover considering things said in undertale yellow, but their main reason was still to do with the fallen humans ofc)

Also NERD (I love him)

Also mini comic?? Wanted to draw my au Clover and Quaver together (as I unintentionally made certain things of their hair very similar which I found neat and wanted to compare them) and it turned out as lighting/shading practice. So proud of myself bro<3 (did not wanna draw that background tho lmao)

Also ended up drawing Starlo and Frisk for it too (I was gonna draw Chara too but I didn't know what to do for em) so ye😋

Anyway wanna learn about my Mutated Cores AU? You can find Frisk&Chara, Papyrus, and Sans too for additional context about the AU! Frisk&Chara will have the most info about the AU itself though currently, along with Papyrus!

Anyway, Finally, the Grillby! He's from a roleplay au:) he's got first that looks like hair just cause it looks cool.

You can find papyrus of the same au of the random Grillby here^^ hope you liked my drawings:)

[cyanide-latte]

Honestly the most gratifying thing about my undercut that doesn't have to do with gender is that now I actually get genuine compliments on my hair.

I have naturally very curly hair. It is also very dark but has been steadily turning white since I was 15 (I'll be 35 in October.) I've had it long before, and most often in my life I've had it cut very short in a boyish style.

And my entire life, the comment I heard most was "is your hair naturally curly?" (always said with a dubious tone even when I was little, because I guess other 5-year-olds must have been getting perms) And it's usually always followed by "I wish I had hair like that, I'd kill for your hair" or some variation thereof.

I was told this was a compliment. As an autistic child who hated my curls for the longest time, this frustrated me. It never sounded like a compliment, it never felt like a compliment, and if they wanted my hair so bad, they ought to find a way to trade with me.

As I got older, into my late teens and early twenties, I made peace with the curls, even though I still got those same "compliments". But since I'd been getting increasingly white hair since age 15, they were now accompanied by people criticizing my "highlight job" and my choice to "mix in blonde". Looking people square in the eyes and saying "I don't have highlights, my hair's just been going white since I was 15" usually got semi-gratifying results when people backpedaled like hell, but a lot of them also would then criticize me for not dying the white to hide it.

I was constantly trying to alter my style for my hair my entire life and I don't even like styling my hair, but it caused me no end of upset to hear these things. I figured I was always doomed to be miserable about my hair. My body is already sensitive as hell to so many things I can only use specific products on my hair safely, but it hurt that my mother and grandmother tried so hard to help me understand people did like my hair, when the comments I heard sounded like criticism and an insinuation that other people deserved my hair.

And then 2020's COVID lockdown meant I couldn't get my summer cut to shorten my hair so I wouldn't overheat. At least, the person I usually went to couldn't do my hair.

So between desperation to find a way to keep all the weight of thick, heat-trapping dark curls off my neck and shoulders, and the desire to try something new as a subtle means of better expressing my gender, I decided to try an undercut. My partner and I looked up photos for reference, used an electric razor that was typically reserved for his hair, and decided what to do. Several layers underneath in the back would have to be shaved off completely (more than we initially anticipated, believe it or not,) and I wanted the shave to come around my left side. Just shave the left half of my head, because for some reason heat would constantly get trapped there as well as at the back of my neck. (Dunno why that didn't happen the same way with my right side, but hey, we've established I'm pretty odd.)

It was a relief, both physically and in terms of gender euphoria when I looked in the mirror and heard my partner's loving exclamation of "oh! there you are!" And it was also a relief when my mother and grandmother loved my new hair, especially when my grandmother said "that suits you best of all. You should always keep your hair that way." (Grandma passed in February of this year, and she never wavered in her love of my new hairstyle.)

But then, it started happening. Not just with family, friends and coworkers, but random strangers, at least once a week, often more than once a week. Someone would come up to me and say "I LOVE your hair! It's so cool!" I'd never heard that before.

I have quickly learned an added benefit of the undercut is that, with the left side of my head being shaved, it's incredibly easy for people to realize that my hair IS naturally curly, and to see my white pattern where my hair is growing back in on that side. And I've gotten compliments on that too! Both people talking about how dynamic my curls make the undercut, and several others telling me that my white pattern is beautiful and they hope I never think to dye it.

It's slowed down a bit since then but it still happens every couple of weeks. A little while ago at work, a regular [teen] patient came in with her mom, who approached me to ask about my undercut because she (the mom) has been hesitant to let her child try an undercut, but on seeing my hair, she changed her mind and wanted to know about my experience. Said kid still doesn't have an undercut yet, but they've been changing up their hair and presenting more queer in their dress, and they've started shyly waving to me when they see me. And yesterday, during grocery shopping, as I was waiting for my partner to get back from grabbing something, an older lady slowed down, came over to me, and just said "Excuse me, pardon me, you just have the most beautiful hair. That style is so striking, and your curls are wonderful with it. That's all. I just wanted to tell you you have gorgeous hair" and then she left.

It's so strange how that impulsive choice to take a shot on a new style not only became something I love for me and my personal expression of self, but is the thing that finally, truly has brought me compliments on my hair for the first time in my life. Real compliments that make me feel good.

So I guess what I'm saying in this overly long ramble is 1: I'm forever grateful this has happened and is happening to me, 2: for anyone struggling with similar, this is a reassurance that things can and will get better, 3: change can be terrifying but this is a very good example of a drastic change that wasn't going to have harmful repercussions for me personally, and the fact it turned out so well is both a confidence- and courage-booster. It's worth taking a shot on, because so far it's brought me nothing but joy. Sure, it requires frequent maintenance to keep up with the shaving part because my hair grows fast, but it's a small price to pay for a cooler head (in more than one sense!) and the positive interactions that have resulted.

[thrumbolt]

Small guide to art posts on Tumblr:

I'm writing this because I keep seeing more and more beautiful art with absolutely terrible presentation on my dash. Presentation that is so bad it makes me sometimes not reblog the post even though I love the art itself. Call me superficial, but the presentation is part of the art as well and usually these posts also have less notes than you'd expect for the quality, so it's probably not just a me thing. That makes me sad and I want everyone to get the attention they deserve so here are my tips on how to present art on tumblr:

Put the image first, then add a small description - NOT the other way around. So many art posts have people yapping and yapping, only to then post an image in the middle of a wall of text. Don't do that! Have you ever been to a museum? Descriptions and titles should be small and below a piece of art. That's because you want to center the art as your main piece in your post.

If you have a long description or context, put it under a cut. Honestly, that is how everyone should do with long text. Nothing worse than making people scroll endlessly if they don't want to and it's also what makes people hesitate to reblog long posts. Short descriptions also give the benefit that people outside your fandom corner will be more inclined to reblog your art as well!

So generally keep text short and clear if possible. If you didn't draw the art, credit the artist above all else! I keep seeing people who commissioned something confused for the artist and it's fucking annoying. No one truly cares if you paid someone to draw something, everyone just wants to know who drew it. Also please for the love of all that is holy, do not pair your art with an embedded spotify link to a playlist. If you really want to share music, put it under a cut as well or in a hyperlink. Last thing you want is some ugly ass album cover to take away from your art!

No colorful fonts. There's a reason the majority of tumblr has ignored them ever since they were conceived (I remember the update! I was there!) and it's because it's ugly as sin and in the terms of artwork, it usually distracts from the piece as well, even if you try to color code. It's also the easiest way to out you as a newbie :D

If you have more than one page/piece in a post, consider the arrangement carefully. You do not have to accept the tumblr default - you can rearrange! In general, if it's not that many pieces, it makes sense to post them below each other rather than side by side. Make people look at your art that you spent so much time on! It's allowed to be eye catchy! If you have a more horizontal piece with short sides, consider adding a detail shot or two to lengthen your post so people don't accidentally scroll by.

Please, please stop using the huge title font in art posts, I beg you.

And that's basically it. In the end you can of course post however you like - it should please you first and foremost after all. This is just meant as tips and tricks of someone who has reblogged and posted art for over a decade on this hellhole of a page now. Some things newer people might not be aware of.

[shadystranger]

the switch from worry for sam to appealing.. oh he knows how to fuck him up so perfectly tailored for him

[front-facing-pokemon]

[talkorsomething]

I have Got to get more transgender

[inthecarpets]

I'm not sure if i have anyone to ask so i got a question regarding Good Omens season 2 here

i'm asking pretty much:

Does the second season of Good Omens get better?

Like: i watched the first episode and felt disappointed given how well written and throughrough the first season was. And the second season in the very first episode felt as if it was lacking.

Dad, who i was watching it with, thought it wasn't good. And he's one of those people who can actually tell if a production is well done, bad or just mid. (and He thought the first season was good and enjoyed it even tho he dislikes when authors play around religions in fiction as he finds it mocking toward religions.)

Maybe it was a mistake to re/watch the first season hours before watching the second one, but honestly i'm unsure whether i should watch it further, i might simply skip it? In this case for me the fandom fun is not important, i just want it to be actually good and as thought through as the first season, and i fear it is not the case.

[zo1nkss]

that went horribly. Plz don't read the tags if u don't wanna know about how royally my mom fucked up tonight. It was genuinely so so bad.

[moe-broey]

SORRY FOR CRYSTAL BLOGGING BUT

Oooughghghh I'm so proud of my guys....

I didn't think I'd actually keep playing this file cause it's on my busted 3DS, except for if I REALLY wanted to double hunt Celebi. But I have decided I AM getting a Houndour for my new file, my journey goes on....

This is what I'm working with. By the way. Victim of sudden hinge snapping 😢😢💔💔💔 (this motherfucker has been through it all though like. Ancient well-loved and deeply cherished artifact, WELL used by the point where the hinge broke off)

Some notes!

> Dizzy is the Tyrogue (now Hitmontop) from that original Odd Egg hunt I did, where I was determined to get The Rarest Pokemon from it LMAO. He's from a deadname file though, cut short and deleted. He'd rejoin a new team on this file, which also was cut short due to hinge snapping. So I thought, anyway... 😳

> Henry and Asriel were hunted using the breed with a shiny method, which like, I HIGHLY recommend if you're just fucking around in gen 2. 1/60 Odds! Yeah hatching eggs can take a while but it balances out w how fucking high the rates are. Plus it's perfect how it lines up, for building your team early game! You do need a shiny to start with, but like, literally the game gives you one for free. From there, you can either get yourself a glitch shiny Ditto in a gen 1 game using the shiny Gyarados OR just like. Map out a complex family tree starting from Gyarados LMFAO (I will say it if you're starting from Gyarados I'm p sure you have to have at least three badges, AND do the Lake of Rage stuff, a little inconvenient for team building esp from the egg but not the end of the world -- source, been there done that 👍)

ALSO Lily-Frog and Asriel were the real MVPs, who pulled the most weight and kicked the most ass, AND Lily-Frog was the last one standing against Lance when I ran out of healing items 🫡🫡🫡 (Ice Punch is a fucking life saver against Lance 😭😭😭)

🔥🔥🔪🔪🔪KILL!!!!!!!!!🔪🔪🔪🔥🔥

[js337]

branching off that last post

do any other boob-havers like their boobs/like having them but at the same time don't want them perceived by others lmao or is that just me

[freakyandcool]

.

[radiance1]

There was a boy walking towards the invading army.

There was a civilian child walking towards the invading army from the infinite realms lead by their tyrannical ruler. The Justice League tried to stop force their way through, save the boy.

Instead of that, however, they were blocked by multiple ghosts, all hellbent on not leaving them alone. Superman tried to get close to the kid? Piles upon piles of ghosts knocked him back. Wonder Woman? The same thing happened.

The thing was, that wasn't even the ground army who did it. But the ones in the sky.

So the kid was walking towards an entire army by himself. One hellbent on taking over Earth and have no qualms about ending the short life of a human boy.

Instead of watching a child die, a life they failed to save. Something else happened.

The army parted for him.

Just as Moses parted the Red Sea, the same happened with the ghosts. They made a clear-cut line for him to walk straight towards their king with no obstacle, even clearing the way of anything that could pose as one.

Again, the Justice League tried to go down to drag the boy away, only to again be denied by the ghosts flying through the sky. Only to stop chasing as soon as they retreated a certain distance.

The ghosts stood still, and only moved as they got close, unlike their previous acts of causing havoc and mayhem. So, the Justice League, as much as they didn't want too, stood still and watched.

The boy stood at a stop before the king, painfully tiny in comparison to the massive ghostly tyrant standing before him with his arms crossed.

"Yo, dad." The boy said, and the Justice League froze in shock.

===

"Yo, dad." Danny lifted a hand up in greeting, before dropping that hand to rub at his neck. "Funny seeing you here, I guess."

"Phantom..." Pariah Dark's voice was soft yet booming and seemed to echo throughout the battlefield. "We meet once again on the field of battle, come to challenge me again, little one? Without your armor, no less?" Pariah tilted his head to the side slightly, questioning.

"Oh that? Yea that got destroyed ages ago," Danny shrugged, as if not having it didn't bother him at all. "Parents couldn't exactly, you know, finish it. Plus, they had other things to work on, so they just decided to scrap the thing altogether." He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged again. "So, yea..."

Pariah looked the boy over, his eyes hardening and he clicked his tongue at what he saw.

"You come here, not with armor," Pariah began, strength in his voice and a fire (literally) in his eyes. "Nor a weapon, or a shield, and no allies of any kind-"

"Well those guys are there" Danny pointed behind him, straight at the Justice League.

"-Walk up to a hostile force with no gauge of their strength." But Pariah just barreled on as if the Justice League were an afterthought. "And face their leader and do not expect to come to harm!?" The Ghost King scowled, and the Justice League tensed.

But just tilted his head slightly. "Well, are you going to harm me?" He asked.

Pariah Dark blinked, then whispered. "I could, child. I could kill you." He put a strong emphasis on the word kill.

"You could," Danny nodded. "But are you going to hurt me?"

The Ghost King remained silent, but his gaze intensified.

Danny shrugged, this time with a smile. "See? You wouldn't hurt me so it's fine. Ya big softie."

Pariah's scowl intensified. "I am not soft, child."

"Oh really?" Danny leaned forward and his smile took on a more playful edge. "Then what's you're reason for visiting Earth, hmmmm?"

"To wage war and fight against this world's mightiest heroes." The Ghost King answered quickly.

"Annnnnnnd?"

The king remained silent for a moment and Danny stepped forwards before he face planted onto concrete. "C'mon, dad. Tell me the other reason you came here." Danny crossed his arms, mimicking the Ghost King's pose.

They stared each other in the eyes for a moment, before Pariah looked off the side with green dusting his cheeks. "You have not visited in 50 years, son..." He whispered, but everyone heard it.

"Hah! Knew you missed me!" Danny said shamelessly with a satisfied and smug smile.

"And your father forced me out of the realms because I upset him." Small embers started igniting themselves on the tips of the king's hair.

Silence echoed over the battlefield, before Danny burst out laughing. Pariah Dark's hair fully exploded into green fire as he reached a hand to cover his face. "Of course, alongside the shameless and cheekiness, you get Clockwork's sense of humor as well..."

The Ghost King, at least this very moment, seemed more and more like a tired dad than some fearsome, tyrannical Ghost King.

[immortaljai]

Good Talk.

1.5k Words, Smut, dirty talk, 3some, asshole behavior, porn w plot.

It was a weird family but it was your family. The amount of times the X-men tried to recruit you was sickening, Wade always in your ear about unicorns and his “Golden babys” all that you were used to. You never expected Wade to come home after his disappearance let alone with someone who seems to hate everyone. Logan was snarky, a drunk, and overall an asshole from the moment you met him.

He had this “lone wolf” batman shit going on with him, it confused you seeing Wade and him interact let along him living with you guys. You tried to avoid him as best as you could getting cursed at less then Wade but it irritated you how he hated you when you did nothing primarily to Logan other than have your tomfoolery jokes with Wade.

You really should have noticed the heated gazes, the close proximity and the borderline degrading words, Logan wanted nothing to do with you for a reason. With Wade it was different he was always..touchy always close especially when he was hurt one smaller cut off healing arm waving at Logan and one hand on your waist a bit close to your bottom as you faced him cleaning the blood off his face. If only you looked behind you to see the irritated flustered mess Logan was, truly explains why Wade laughed louder.

You’re a clueless thing indeed, how could you not have noticed Logans brushing up against you as you argue about how onions should be cut “You know what fork hands maybe if you pulled weight around here and cooked your own fucking meals you wouldnt have so much to complain about” the chopping board making loud noises as you slides irritatedly Wade was long gone getting the “Powdered donuts” for Blind Al so he really had no idea what was going down Al decided long before to leave the apartment.

“You have knifes for hands use them” you snarkily said with an eyeroll “You got a fuckin’ smart mouth you better watch it” he growled in your ear still hovering, he snatched the knife out of your hand standing behind you cutting the onions himself “Ya’ see? Maybe if you didnt run your fuckin’ mouth so much you’d learn something” that made your anger flare quickly exhaling through your nose “Maybe if you didnt fuck up what you had, you wouldnt be here and id be asshole babysitting free” the kitchen went silent as the slicing ceased you could hear him breathing lightly behind you. The knife clatted on the cutting board as he leaned down his nose touching your shoulder, his breathing on your lower back “Ya wanna repeat that?” 

You nearly shat yourself as you stuttered out or tried to stutter out an apology, however that was cut short due to Wade coming through the door “MARVEL JESUS IS BACK” you never thought you'd be so happy to hear that name quickly and swiftly moving from Logans trapped arms and running to the door “Heeeey red” you said side smile on your face as you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding “Hi sweet face, where is Whiskey dick” a grunt came from behind you knowing it was logan you paid no mind to him, as Wades eyes widen “Theses my muscle man oh you look angry i think my bone is rising” you rolled your eyes a smirk on your face as you turned to look at logan “M’ not pissed, not in the slightest” he said gruffly a beer in his hands leaning on the doorway his heated gaze on you.

Wade's eyes widened as he raised his non-existent eyebrows “Ohhh what happened while i was gone- clothes are still on” that made you scoff lightly folding your arms as you walked away from the kitchen “Dinners nearly ready” Logan said staring at Wade as you disappeared. Wade smirked walking up to Logan quite closely “So..what happened between you and sweet cheeks” Logan looked at Wade with slight uninterest “She’s got a mouth” “That can be used properly” Wade replied quickly with a smirk “Your disgusting” Logan said pinching his nose “And yet here you are a boner cause of an attitude- you pervert” 

Dinner was as usual loud, friends over as if it was a celebration, Logan in the corner watching keeping a close eye on his self proclaimed daughter a drink in hand as usual, he manspread slightly catching your gaze landing on his lap before away again, his eyes however were already on you, maybe it was the buzz, maybe it was his hormones but you looked..nice..better then nice even. Throughout the night he moved closer to you, from the chair, then next to Laura, then in the end you were in the middle of him and Wade.

Wade's arm around your waist from the moment he closed in, his eyes moving from the cleavage your shirt gave as he talked to you, his eyes taking in you completely licking his lower lip, he noticed Logan moving in and he smirked to himself. “Go get my board game for me sweet cheeks” Wade whispered to you winking to Logan, he gave Wade a blank face before taking a long swig of his drink.

You entered his room, it was cluttered as you huffed looking through his things, tossing things behind you “Where the fu-'' your sentence  was cut short as you were pushed and pinned agaist the bed a heavyweight pushed against your back before a hand came to cover your mouth “Smart mouth..” Logan whispered in your ear you blushed deeply at the bulge pressed against you and the husky voice behind you “M’ gonna need you to listen to me, there's about 6 people in the house..i'm gonna need you to be quiet” you didn't need to be told twice nodding your head slowly.

That was all he needed his hands moving up your pants pulling them down slightly his fingers reading you through your underwear “L-at that, soaked been thinking bout this?” you were pre occupied your face pressed into the sheets whimpers coming from you, that made him chuckle his pants swiftly being pulled down as his tip nudged between your core and your underwear making him sigh deeply before pulling back your slick being pulled with each drag of his hips “This- jus’ gonna have to do for now” he said fucking your thighs, his hand moving to grab your throat to lift your head, the door opened making your eyes widen as you looked back seeing Wade. 

“Fuckin knew it- you guys left me out” he frowned as he started removing his pants quickly “Dumbass- you gave me the hint” Logan groaned into your ear his pace not slowing, his tip brushing your clit perfectly with each drag of his hips, your ass jiggling each time. Wade smirked as he sat in front of you his legs opening “Hi sweet cheeks- im sorry to ask this..given your state but-” he grabbed your hair using your open mouth as a fleshlight as he sighed in content “Yeah..thats better” Wade was bigger then any male you sucked off and it didnt help thst Logan wasnt letting up, you quickly found a rhythm from sucking Wade using your hand to stroke what couldnt fit sucking his tip harshly making his eyes roll back “F-fuck yea- like a lolipop sweet face” his head thrown back as he softly rocked his hips in your mouth, Logan hand reaching up to grab his balls “There you go smart mouth, make the idiot cum” he said whispering in your ear speeding up his precum coating your cunt. Your eyes rolling back as you tried your best to deep throat Wade while stroking his cock “Ohh-Ohhh yea im about to paint the entire room white like marble-” Wades eyes squeezed shut as he held your head down moving it once, twice, three times before blowing his load down your throat and falling back his chest heaving as you swallowed it all licking his tip clean. 

Behind you, you heard a snicker as your face was pushed down into the pillow and a dick was inserted into you Logans pace started off uncaring as he used you as if you were a doll slamming you up and down as his hand rapidly rubbed at your bud “Yea- I don't see you talking now do I?” he chuckled at your muffled moans crudely his chest making contact with your back as he groaned “Fuck..cmon cum doll, cum for your asshole” he whispered in your ear making your mouth fall open as you screamed in the pillow your vision going white as you painted his cock white, triggering his own orgasm as he stuffed you full thrusting a few more times before pulling out pulling your underwear up making sure it all stayed in. Wade’s eyes crinkled into a smile seeing your fucked out face “We gotta get up doll- they gonna start speculating” however you could barely hear let along talk so you nodded dumbly 

That made them chuckle lightly as they stood up Logan stuffing his cock into his pants as Wade put back on his pants “Guess we tell them she fell asleep?” Wade asked “I don’t give a shit” Logan said walking out with a smirk leaving you in your slutted out state 

“Good night sweet cheeks” 

Still feral thanks for cumming.

[prael]

STEPS

Newjeans Hanni smut (M reader) - the title is a hint to the TW.

6.6k words

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It didn't happen through a cliché.

Well, maybe it did, but not one of those where she's stuck head-first into some kitchen appliance or something of that ilk, though you would say this really did happen by accident.

What? She tripped, fell, landed on your dick?

Not quite like that, but the point still stands. You didn't begin that day, or even that evening, intending to fuck your step-sister, but, well…

"My apartment. My TV. My choice," you told her, as you have so many times before.

"But this film is supposed to be the best. It's got great reviews. Dani loved it..." Hanni was talking far too fast to even really pay attention. She soon started reeling off a cast list and everyone involved, and how this review called it a revelation to the genre, but you had long since started ignoring her. You know how she gets. Excitable beyond the point that someone normally would be. It's an endearing trait, if not also annoying. The rundown of her reasons was cut short as she threw her body at you in attack.

"Hanni! What are you—"

"Just gimme the controller already!" She shouted right into your ear as she threw her arms over your shoulders. You held it out in front of you, keeping her behind your back so her arms couldn't reach; not that it stopped her from trying. "Just one time. Please? Pretty pretty please?"

You climbed up from the sofa. Hanni clung to your back like a young panda, with her legs locked tight around your waist and her arms still fumbling around. You grabbed her by the ankle, trying to pry it away so you could drop her, or something, anything other than letting her continue. "Alright fine. Just let go, you idiot. You’re going to tear my arm off."

She loosened her hold, just enough for you to swing her around; one arm and leg slipping free so you could throw her onto the couch. In your flailing she managed to take the TV remote with her, but the moment of peace, of silence, of satisfaction in hearing your idiot sister bounce against the cushions before breaking into a laugh and asking, "what the hell was that for?"

"What did I ever do to deserve the step-sister from hell?" You said as you flopped down at the opposite end of the couch.

"Have a mother hot enough that my dad wanted to fu—"

"You're sick." You cut her off before she finished. She smirked, lifting her sock-clad feet onto the sofa and settling in for movie night. She brought her knees up below her chin and started flicking through the options on the screen to find the one she wanted. Her eyes were wide in her stare, her lower lip bitten. It was pretty much the last time you ever looked at her in this innocent way again.

It was another one of those shitty horror flicks. The kind that didn't even slightly live up to the billing she gave it before. This, however, was Hanni's thing—whenever she convinced you, or otherwise, to finally give up control of your TV, she would put on one of these cheap horror movies and spend the whole night tucked behind a cushion.

As much as you tried for it not to be, it's become something of a ritual, pretty much any night that she was at home, and not unbelievably tired from being overworked and didn't have to be up at the break of dawn.

It's your acceptance of things like that which really showed how much the two of you had grown. You remember fighting for your life against your mother and stepfather to not have to take her in. Convinced that if she wanted to move into the city so badly, she could get her own place, or go to one of those company dorms. Ultimately, you were made to see reason. Your apartment is close to her company, and you had a spare room, after all.

Not that she ever stopped annoying you beyond belief.

The movie, if you could call it that, had you fall into a slumber, and when you woke up Hanni had crawled across the length of the couch and was laid against you, her arms wrapping one of your own. She didn't even realise you had woken up, staring as the credits rolled with a slight, peaceful smile on her face.

She had tied her hair up by now into a ponytail, pulling the hair away from her mostly bare shoulder, where the thin strap of her cropped pyjama top rested. As you peeked down at her, your eyes accidentally fell on the space down her top. It wasn't your fault; they were just right there.

"Shit..." you muttered, catching Hanni's attention.

"Still alive there?" She chuckled a little as she gently patted her palm against your cheek. You feigned a yawn and shut your eyes, settling your head against the pillow once more.

"Hanni, put something else on. This movie is dumb."

"You fell asleep after like ten minutes."

"Yeah, and it seems it didn't take long for you to use me as a body pillow."

Hanni pursed her lips. A red flush ran through her cheeks, and then she quickly sat up. You were watching her the whole time through half-open eyes, chuckling under your breath at her reaction.

"You're an idiot," she says. "Always have been."

You shrugged in reply, "And you're easy to tease, always will be."

"Asshole." She kicked at you.

She tried to kick again, and you caught her foot. You held her bare leg in the air and then lightly kicked her back, hitting her thigh.

"Let go! I'll kick you again. Asshole!" She shouted at you, again and again, struggling to break her foot free from your hand. When you finally let her go, all her struggles made her stumble off the couch. As she went, you kicked out again, this time catching her right on the ass. "Ah! Fuck be careful you hit my plu—" She brought her hands right to her mouth when she realised what she was saying.

"Your what?" You asked.

Hanni cleared her throat, blushing to the point of matching the colour of her red short shorts. "Nothing."

She turned away from you. Just standing there. There's a part of you that wishes that you could go back to this moment. You would have left it there and gone to bed—never kicking her a third time.

But you did it.

Your foot flicked gently against her ass a final time and you felt it. Something hard tucked between the softness of her cheeks. She yelped again. You pinpoint this moment as the catalyst for everything that followed. It’s the part where her innocent image crumbled before your eyes and that’s what allowed you to do what you did. Though really, can you ever be sure that if it didn’t happen now, it wouldn’t have just happened the next day, or next week, or a few months down the line? You tell yourself it was inevitable.

"Is that what I think it is?"

She spun around, facing you once more, trying to muster something. She stumbled over and stuttered her words. "No! I... it's not mine. Minji loaned me one for... just to try... it's not." She held the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. "This is... oh, god. This is so embarrassing."

Hanni slumped back onto the sofa and pressed a cushion tight against her face. "Why'd you loan it?" You ask her, only to see her tighten her grip.

"Because."

"Because what?" You sat up by her side and said something that at the time you thought would make it better, but looking back, probably came off rather creepy. "I clean your room, Hanni. I have seen worse things."

Hanni slowly dropped the cushion into her lap and looked at you with a glare. "The fuck?"

"And if you're going to use my laptop, try deleting the history." At this point, you were just piling on the embarrassment.

"Fuck! Oh my God, what did you see?" She threw the cushion into your face.

You picked it out of the air. "Nothing." You lied.

"Bullshit!" Hanni swore. "Did you see everything?"

"Nothing at all..." you said sarcastically while standing up. "I definitely didn't see all the step-brother porn you were binging last week."

She screamed and jumped up. You threw the pillow to stop her and stepped out of reach. "I hate you! You freak!" she shouted, cheeks burning red as the fury rose within her.

"Says the chick wearing a buttplug." You taunted her again as you darted across the room away from her.

"What happened to boundaries!?" She lunged at you again, and you quickly sidestepped her. 

She tried jumping at you once more and missed, only to strike her knee against the corner of the coffee table. She hopped back on one leg with the pain.

"You're an asshole, you know that!?" she shouted, holding onto her knee. You stepped closer, thinking she was really hurt. Until she used the chance to lunge at you and grab you. "What's wrong with a girl enjoying some fantasy? Not like I want to actually fuck you."

You realise now that the proper thing to do would have been to match her disgust. Tell her something along the lines of how the thought repulses you. Continued to tease her about how fucked it is that she would even look at that sort of stuff. The whole thing could have dissolved, but it's when she had hold of you, hammering her fist into your arm, that you said, "don't you?"

Then the long silence ensued. The one that said a hundred unspoken words. As her punches turned into light taps and then to her just holding onto your upper arm. She looked up at you with her pretty eyes open wide. Her lips parted slightly and the tip of her tongue rested on the bottom one as if she had something to say, but the words wouldn't come.

That's the first time you kissed her. Your own step-sister, a girl who should be off-limits in every conceivable way. Yet she opened her mouth and accepted you in that moment. The taste was so sickly sweet.

It was brief, but it told you everything you needed to know, and everything seemed to spiral from there.

First, there was the confusion. The immediate aftermath where you both let go of each other to turn away. Your backs turned on one another as the awkwardness reached its peak. Neither of you was willing to confess the enjoyment of that little exchange.

Then came the passing of the blame. First, it was Hanni who turned to you with a "What the fuck are you doing?"

And you replied with "Me!? You're the one who kissed me!"

She scoffed and shouted a response, "That was all you! Stop being such a perv, freak!" Hanni stomped past you towards her room, face half-full of anger and topped off with shame.

"I'm the perv? You're the one who I hear moan through the walls while, apparently, watching step-brother porn! I think that makes you the messed up one!” you called after her.

A pause. The hesitation. The possibility of confession. She reached her door, and it flew open. In she walked before slamming it closed with a, "you're sick!"

You stared at the door and vainly said under your breath, "you're the sick one." In your head you had realised the real truth to that; how maybe you're both sick because, as the dust settled, you can only think about a handful of things.

The kiss. Her ass. Her cute little tits.

You didn't see her again for the rest of the evening. She reserved herself to her room, while you resigned to the couch with nothing but the television keeping you company.

It had been a long time since you had a shouting match like that with Hanni. See, it used to happen all the time when she first moved in. The problem with a girl like her whose whole world revolves around singing, dancing, media training and beauty is that she lacks any sense of what it's like to be an independent adult. It seemed like the fights would never end, on account of her being seemingly incapable of washing a dish, her clothes or even cooking the most simple of things without burning it or setting something on fire.

But this? This is uncharted territory.

The night wound down, and you were headed to bed, but you found yourself outside her door. Your hand raised, ready to knock. Your breath held. Right when you finally built enough courage is when you heard it. Heard her. Moans muffled through the wood of her door. Your stomach knotted. Your groin twitches.

You lingered, unable to tear yourself away. Even as your logical side began arguing with you that you were in the wrong. That you're probably the worst sort of pervert imaginable and you should feel nothing but guilt.

The other voice, the more confident one; the devil on your shoulder told you that it's Hanni's fault. You had just warned her, and this is what she did in response, like it’s all some sort of game. You refused to admit to yourself that hearing her groaning, whimpering, and moaning through the wall influenced you—tempted you.

Louder and louder. Her voice raised higher, getting to the point where you knew she was practically screaming in the throes of pleasure. Harder and harder you grew. The rational side of you was saying that you should ignore it. Just go to sleep. Forget about it.

"Fuck!" she moaned, and you remained, listening through the door—lost in imagination.

Then you heard footsteps. Bare feet patting on wooden flooring coming closer and closer towards the door. A rush to retreat and you slipped toward your bedroom door. You barely reach the handle before the door across the hall opens.

There was a moment. The two of you locked eyes. Every fibre in your being fought against looking down.

"What?" she asked with a stone-cold expression.

"Nothing." You said, and your willpower broke. You glanced down. Completely naked, she stands at the door, her nipples peaked to fine little tips. And your gaze drifted down her soft curves and slender figure, her wide hips and full thighs.

"Nothing," she mocks.

Her eyes glanced down for a second, then back to your face, and her gaze narrowed. You panicked, dipped into your room and slammed the door just like she did earlier. You press your back to it, the cool wood against your burning body. Your mind raced.

Her feet slapped again against the wooden floor and headed toward the bathroom. That should have been that. You slipped into your bed, frustrated and confused. The sound of the shower running quickly drifted through the walls, but her cries from earlier replayed in your mind until you fell asleep.

That should have been that.

You woke to the darkness of the room—not the morning sunshine—sometime later. Half in a haze, not quite conscious yet, but something had roused you from your slumber: a movement under the sheets and a strange sensation. Warm and damp. Your eyes flicked open, adjusting to the darkness. Your hands jerked reflexively toward your groin and then your senses sharpened.

Someone between your legs. A warm and wet something sliding up and down the shaft of your hardness. Tongue? Yeah, a tongue. Your fingers reached and buried themself into hair. Stomach muscles spasmed as your hips thrust up on their own. Your lips parted as you moaned, "Fuck."

You glanced down.

Hanni.

Naked.

The tip of your cock at her mouth, lips pursed around it. Her smiling eyes sparkled and her skin glimmered, bathed in moonlight coming through the open curtains. Hanni giggled when your eyes met. Your hand dropped to her shoulder.

"Hanni..." Your throat choked dry, and you pushed at her shoulder.

"Shhh." The word whispered against your sensitive tip.

"What the hell are you..." You tried to ask, but Hanni shook her head before sucking in a breath. Then she drew the length of your cock into her warm, wet mouth and the question escaped you. "Holy shit," you gasped.

"This can be our dirty little secret," she said when she lifted her head, fingers stroking you. "We can pretend it didn’t happen in the morning, but for the rest of the night," her finger tickled down the underside of your cock as she spoke, "it can be as real as you want it to be."

You remember being convinced that it was a dream. Maybe one that you would wake up from with a mess in your shorts and, honestly, that probably would have been bad enough—having a wet dream about your step-sister. Reality intruded and threatened to drag you back from your delusion. Hanni took you into her mouth again and it was so very real.

There was no doubting the pleasure, and it was too good to make her stop. You took your hand away from her shoulder, allowing her to do as she pleased. Maybe if it was just a dream, you could allow yourself to indulge in the madness just one time…

"Fucking hell, Hanni." The words slipped from you, and with it, her warm mouth left your throbbing cock.

You peered down at her. She wiped the drool from the sides of her lips and smiled at you. Her eyes were wide as she lowered her head and slipped your dick into her warm mouth once more. Your body jolted as she put her tongue to work. She swirled the tip along the contours and ridges, then licked down the underside of the shaft and then right back up the top, leaving a thin film of saliva on your hardness.

She clasped her hand around you and it all felt far too real. Mixed emotions. There was a cold sense of terror in your heart, even with the heat of arousal radiating all over. The things she did with her lips and her tongue made you doubt your sanity.

"Does that feel good?" She said as she took a quick pause, stroking her hand along the full length. She had just caught her breath in the one moment where she stopped sucking, the first chance where her mouth wasn't busy trying to draw the soul out of you through the tip of your cock.

"You were right." She spoke almost as quickly as your mind spun. "About... the step-brother thing. It feels sick, and gross, and... wrong. It makes me feel dirty." Hanni pauses for a second, seemingly running her eyes over your body and then asks, "how depraved does it make me that it gets me really, really horny?"

Hanni had no clue that the same thoughts filled the back of your mind. Only that you weren't able to string it into words like she did. She was right. It felt really wrong, and yet there was a rush to do something that should never be done. This was where the next step began. The breaking of the boundaries. The perverse excitement in the face of the taboo.

Her hand reached out behind her and pulled back the sheets that covered her body. She was crouched between your spread legs, head still by your cock, her soft ass in the air. The cool light from the moon kissed her skin as she slowly slipped her fingers between her plump cheeks. "And this only made it worse. I've been so horny ever since I started wearing it."

Her hand moved slightly, just out of view behind her, and she let out a breathy moan.

"Hanni. What're you—

You're interrupted. "It hurt a little at first. Just a bit but you get used to it, and if it's in a good spot, if you hit it right..." She kept touching herself in front of you, and another breathy gasp escaped her lips and then she looked up at you still lying there. "What are you waiting for? Isn't this what you want?"

That's when you stirred. Reciprocated. You sat up and she rose to meet you. In seconds, you were embracing. Frenzied. Wild. All teeth and tongues and roaming hands. Shorter than you. So much smaller. She let out a yelp when you grabbed her, though she instantly silenced it by shoving her tongue back in your mouth and kissing you deeply.

Pressed against your bare chest, her breasts felt small but supple, perfect little handfuls. Her waist is slender beneath your grasp. The thick flesh of her thighs was so full and shapely. When she opened her eyes, they had such want. Lust—pure and undeniable.

So close, and the faint whimpers at her throat are a seduction. You felt it was an invitation, and your lips kissed her chin, trailing kisses down her neck. "Yes. Yes. Yes..." she encouraged you lower. Your tongue tasted the saltiness of her skin, teeth grazing and then pinching softly. Her arms were tight around your head, nails biting into the base of your neck.

She trembled at your every caress, shook each time you teased a pert nipple. Gasped louder each time you nibbled her collarbone. You turned, lifting her, and then she fell back and presented herself to you. Her legs splayed open and her bare, wet cunt dripping, begging you to take it, but...

"No," you told yourself, "it's too fast," and you began a line of kisses down her stomach, beginning at her cleavage and trailing straight down her stomach. The muscles beneath her pale skin twitched and clenched in response and her breath had gone erratic. You reached her belly button and she hooked her legs over your shoulder, and when you dipped further she clenched her thighs and squeezed as you toyed with her.

You remember savouring the moment. Savouring the pleasure, savouring the veniality.

"Lower, please," she begged in the most needy voice. "Please, I... fuck, oh, fuck please..."

It's hard to describe it all.

Somehow, in the night, you both reached a state of understanding. A state of consensual debauchery that came with a sense of agreement; a pact signed with tongue on skin in this moment of depravity.

You kissed her, playfully moving between her legs. Thigh to thigh, to dangerously close to her wet core, and there you lingered. The air grew humid. Hanni's sweet scent filled your nose. You ran your hands up her legs and felt the warmth in your palms. She gripped onto the hair at the top of your head; her fists tightened.

"Why're you teasing me, asshole?"

Hanni's moans grew louder and more needy when you used your tongue against her. Her legs wrapped tight, hooking behind your back. There was something satisfying about her reactions to your actions, something exciting about seeing her squirm.

The tip of your tongue ran up the lips of her cunt, dipping between the fleshy folds and coming to suck upon her swollen clit. Her eyes widened at the touch, and her jaw slacked to the point her words went incoherent. Her whole body spasmed as she arched and moaned out something filthy.

One moment you had hold of her thigh, feeling her clench up and quiver, the next you found that your fingers had moved downward and pressed against her slick opening. At the slight touch of your fingertips to the tenderness there, a short cry slipped out of her again. She tightened and clenched around them as you pushed in deeper.

"Who's teasing?" you asked before you buried yourself to the knuckles in her.

A smirk formed, and Hanni was about to speak, but no words came. You pumped her at a steady pace, curling your digits within her while lapping at her clit. The taste of sin never tasted so sweet. 

The combination drove her insane, and it didn’t take long until you were on the verge of making your step-sister cum.

You wrapped your lips around that swollen nub of hers and flicked it with the tip of your tongue, faster and harder, until her many moans became one, long, drawn-out and passionate, as a climax rocked through her.

Her ass lifted off the bed and her legs quivered, shaking uncontrollably while her fingers tugged painfully at the hairs on the back of your head. She jerked and gasped with a look of ecstasy on her face as she moaned your name over and over, almost reaching a scream. Your name on her lips again, and again, and you were drunk on this euphoria.

She released your head, and you postured over her, still slipping a pair of fingers into her, but slower. She drew a deep, trembling sigh and forced a smile, watching you. "I hate you," she managed.

"Do you?" you asked as you drew your cum-soaked fingers out of her. Her legs rested on your hips and the underside of your stiff cock was against her pussy. You reached around her hip, to her ass, to the plug still sat between her cheeks. Hanni hissed at your touch, biting her lip at the sensation.

"Yes. I hate you," Hanni whimpered, giving the softest moans as you tugged on the metal. Her eyelids fluttered.

"Why?" you asked.

"I just do," Hanni weakly gasped, struggling to stay strong in the moment. "You make me feel things. Things I shouldn't feel. It shouldn't be this easy."

"In that case. I hate you too, sis'."

There was this moment after you said that, where you shared a stare. Maybe the most confusing stare of your life. Calling her sis', in this position, should have been horrifying. And it was, but only at a peripheral level. Otherwise, it felt surprisingly... hot.

You dipped into her for another kiss, and this one seemed ever more ravenous than the last. You kissed with hunger and her hand ran around the back of your head. Kissed as lovers would. She was just as aroused as you and eager for more.

Slow and soft, you rocked yourself against her wetness. Your length dragged between her lips, up over her clit, and down again to poke at her entrance. You moved over and over, enjoying the tease.

The slow, sticky friction between the two of you. Her breath was sharp, as you slipped yourself over her and kissed at her neck. Every rock of your hips, she ground back against you.

"I think..." She hesitated. "Fuck. I think I'm ready. Just... go slow?"

The guilt of what's happened was a distant thing, a buzzing fly on a summer afternoon. The kind of thing that when you're so enthralled by something else, it becomes invisible. Then, with a nod and a shivering sigh, she reached down and gripped your cock. You bent back from kissing her so she could guide you.

Her tiny cunt. Her beautiful wetness. Her forbidden, decadent treasure.

Her breath was shaky. Her next words came out amid a tremble, "I've never... No one else."

You brushed stray strands of hair out of her face and ran your hand over her cheek. You gave her the reassurance she needed.

She told you, a few weeks later, how grateful she was that it was you. See, for all the filth that ran through her mind on an almost daily basis, she never imagined what it would be like. It being you—who you are and everything you meant to her—made it easy. Natural. Wonderful.

That first time, you took it all so slow. With her legs raised over yours. Watching the subtle changes in expression as you gradually moved more and more of your cock into her. Sinking deep between her pink, delicate walls. Your step-sister, panting and squirming beneath you.

"You okay?" you asked her.

"Ah... yes. This is... I love it," she responded between whining breaths.

It was just enough, the reassurance, so you could push into her the rest of the way. Her hand found its way to your shoulder; bracing as you eased in, her delicate frame tensing as you buried fully.

You watched her reaction and tried to be still as you felt her slick cunt pulse around you, wanting you. She swallowed and gripped you with the muscles within her. The second of respite didn't last long though; you weren't sure if it was a request or accident when her feet tapped against the curve of your ass, but it prompted you to fuck her.

"Feels... fuck." You sucked your breath between your teeth and braced yourself up on a shaky arm. You drew out slowly, and you noticed her nails digging into the arm you supported yourself upon. 

You groaned in relief more than anything else as your hips pumped the shallow strokes that sent electricity through your body. She started pushing herself onto you as she clutched your back, drawing her heels over the small of your spine. You looked down to see her eyelids were flickering, and the sight only served to inflame you more. Her moans were so erotic and encouraging.

That first time, it was special. You took your time together to explore each other's bodies, the curves of hips, the muscles, the valleys and ridges. You caressed your stepsister's gorgeous body and then tried your best to put her through another climax, as if your efforts to reach your own were less important.

"Fuck you're so tight," you told her, during those final thrusts, buried to the hilt in her tiny, soft pussy.

She spoke, her voice weak and shuddering, "You're big... inside me..."

The fact that she held you tighter in her embrace and how it seemed that she refused to let you out of her even as she came apart was telling.

She came that night, again, this time all over your cock. The first of many times to come. A string of incomprehensible cries erupted from her in the throes of that first proper fuck. Hanni's thighs flexed around your hips. She clung desperately to your body as she cried into your mouth as she climaxed.

Not long after is when you felt it too, that impending release. A coil of pressure. Unfamiliar and intense. The mere thought of emptying inside her drove you mad. Your fingers dug into her hips as you fucked your step-sister with complete abandon.

"Don't. Not inside. Please, not inside," she murmured in an incoherent mantra of guilt and pleasure, right next to your ear.

You didn't, of course. You drove yourself right to the edge and pulled out. Her juices coated your length, slick and wet as your cock twitched in anticipation of the final moments. Hanni wanted your release as badly as you did. She took you into her hand for the finish, gripping tightly and jerking that first hot shot of cum onto her soft tummy. You thrust through her hand to let the pleasure course through you. Each thrust sent a long rope splattering onto her naked skin as she grinned up at you, flushed and sweaty, covered in your lust.

That was the first night, but definitely not the last.

The next morning arrived with Hanni in your arms—the little spoon. The little naked spoon pressed against your body. Skin to skin. She woke you with the slow rocking motion of her body, grinding her plump cheeks against you.

"I could get used to this," she whispered under her breath, smiling against the crook of your arm. "Good morning," she said to you over her shoulder. "Sleep well? You had some pretty naughty dreams last night, didn't you?"

You responded with your erection growing against the warm crevice of her butt and a gentle hum as her ass rocked over it. That was no dream. "I did," you said groggily. "As naughty as yours."

"Mmmm," is all she had as a response, lost in the pleasant distraction, grinding herself back into you even more. As she did so, you grew harder, until your stiffness pressed against the plug still wedged into her ass. Hanni had left it there overnight. "The thing about dreams is that they're easy to forget. Want to remind me of mine?"

You ran your hand down her thigh, and that's how the second time started. You caressed her flesh for a while, feeling the softness of her thighs while she silently lay there, patiently allowing you to enjoy her.

Then, you grabbed her by the knee, opening her legs and then she spoke, "Are you going to make your step-sister cum again?"

So quickly did she become so utterly shameless. You grunted in reply and then you held her leg up by hooking under the knee, and shuffled down slightly, letting your hard cock slip from between her cheeks and go between her legs.

You closed your eyes and leaned into her. Lips at her shoulders, the kisses soon trailed to her neck. She hummed as you ground your cock between her folds. Not even putting in the effort to try to actually enter her just yet, just teasing your stepsister for the moment.

Her voice filled with the sweet sound of passion.

Your heart began pounding and a flush rose to your cheeks. You could have written that first night off as a mistake. One you would regret, forget and never make again. Not after this. This is a definitive choice. One of sound mind and body, not under the tension of an argument or anything else that happened before.

This is different.

Hanni reached her hand down between her legs, pulling your cock so it would slip into her when you shift your hips. "Fuck me," she begged.

You did. You slipped inside her and heard her moan in such sweet ecstasy. She gripped the pillow she slept on the night before, burying her face in it, and moaning into it in such sweet rapture. "Fuck, yes, harder," Hanni moaned.

When she pushed her hips back onto you, her ass brushed against your belly. The rhythm began. Slow. Lazy thrusts. Enjoying every sensation in the post-sleep haze, savouring the fact that you knew how good she felt on the inside. How incredible her wet, silky, tight depths felt when you slid in and out of them.

"Is this what you wanted?" Your voice is low, near a growl. Your arms around your step-sister. It shouldn't, by all accounts, feel natural to have her like that, but it did.

"Yes, it feels incredible. Please don't stop." Your cock bottomed out within her. As deep as you could go. You groaned, and stayed there for a while, feeling your stepsister clenching down, her inner walls trying to pull you in further.

Hanni's hands gripped at the bedsheets, clutching tightly to them. The position pressed the metal of the plug between her asscheeks, and as your thrusting continued, the sensation sent a tingle through her body. It was a filthy combination. One that allowed every stroke you drove into her cunt to simultaneously send an equally blissful shock straight into her ass.

It was madness for her to indulge in the ecstasy—for both of you to lose yourselves.

You grew faster, and she unwound completely. She grew limp as she reached her climax. She couldn't even grip the bedsheets, or the pillow, her body simply submitting to the pleasure. She merely lay there as your hips battered against her soft ass, fucking her right through it.

Then she asked you, right after it subsided, "Ever fantasised about cumming on my ass before?"

The way she asked that made the question feel almost normal. "That the sort of thing they do in the porn you watch?" You slowed for a bit to deliver the tease.

Hanni couldn't keep the shy smile from creeping across her lips. "There was this one video where a guy put it all over his sister's butt. Seemed like he really liked it."

The fact she talked to you about the dirty things she likes helped it all along. It was the extent of her experience, the videos, but it helped. What it told you about what she really likes, what she enjoys... It became the basis for all your dirty experiments.

"That sounds hot. You have a cute ass."

She giggled to herself, rolling her hips, getting up onto her hands and knees and facing away from you.

You seated yourself onto your calves, giving her space and watching as she turned, giving you the view you craved. "I do?" She said as she glanced back over her shoulder, showing her innocence and naïvete in all its splendour. Her eyes sparkled and then a smile spread over her lips to match that look in her eye.

"The cutest," you told her as you kneeled behind her. One hand caressed the outside of her thigh while the other gripped the base of your cock. Eyes firmly set on that beautiful plump ass. That was the second time in just a few hours that you covered Hanni in your cum.

She watched every second as you did, barely managing a blink. Arousal and delight danced over her features in equal measure, and your name left her tongue in the form of a delightful, drawn-out groan. The effect was very apparent. With every streak and ribbon of white landing, she gasped and moaned while staring at the mess.

From that moment on, you entered regularity. It seemed like for months, every chance the two of you got to fuck, you fucked. Her room. Your room. The shower. The sofa. The kitchen. Against that window that overlooks the city's skyline. A public bathroom. A hand job in the car while you're stuck in traffic. Riding your face in a park, hidden among trees, grass, and bushes. Fucking, kissing, and biting until the both of you are exhausted and sore and dripping with sweat. It never ceased. Two insatiable appetites. Your mutual loss of control continued. The affair felt so exhilarating. An explosion of forbidden sin in an otherwise normal existence.

It all came with its fair share of close calls. That Saturday morning surprise visit from your parents where you answered their knock at the door and they invited themselves in, all while Hanni lies naked in your bedroom. How you sneakily warned her before she emerged and spun the story to them both about how she slept on your floor out of fear after watching another one of her horror movies. They bought it, of course, because they couldn't imagine there being any other explanation.

Then there was Hanni's near miss with her group. She told you all about how Minji had picked up on how something had changed with her; about how convinced Minji was that Hanni had found herself a boyfriend. About the look Minji gave her as Hanni protested, and finally how she got away with a half-truth.

She told the girls it was because of you and how you would work out together on weekends to make her feel better.

Everything was going so well, which made this week even more confusing.

It's been days since you last saw her. The longest you have gone in some time. Long hours and staying over with her members are one thing. Going days with no word or anything at all is another. She ignored your texts, never returned your calls, and stopped showing up at home like you'd come to expect.

No warning.

Nothing.