#I did remember a lot more than I expected to though

[gayslutbehavior]

i really admire the way my mom raised me when it comes to books. she always let me pick what to read, and she usually read the same books along with me so that we could talk about them. she likes reading YA, so that helps. i remember she really liked a series of unfortunate events and would help explain some of the funnier lines that might have gone over my head.

if there were books that either of us thought might be upsetting or hard for me to read, she would read them first and tell me what she thought. she wouldn't say i could or couldn't read them, she would just give me a heads up about things that might be challenging. for example, when i was about 10ish i wanted to read the sixth harry potter book, and she told me (with permission wrt spoilers) that an important character dies and that she found it really sad and thought i might too.

there were also books that she read before me and said she thought would be fine and then i ended up feeling uncomfortable about it for some reason and stopped reading. so she knew she could trust that i would take care of myself when reading. i had a panic attack when i read mockingjay for the first time because the war felt so real, and i took a break, calmed down, and came back to it later. but i'm still really glad i read that book because i think it was really good and taught me a lot.

it was the same way with movies - i watched little miss sunshine for the first time when i was pretty young, and she didn't try to keep me from seeing the more inappropriate parts, but she did explain things that i didn't understand. the only part she warned me about was when the brother realizes he's colorblind and can't be a pilot and gets really upset. she said he's going to yell and it's really sad. it wasn't the sex or the raunchy humor that she focused on (she knew that i knew what sex was), but the parts that were upsetting or scary, which makes sense to me.

pulp fiction is one of her favorite movies and we had a poster of it on the wall in our living room, so of course i wanted to watch it, but she told me that i should wait until i was older, not necessarily because it was inappropriate, but because it's the kind of movie that's hard to follow and requires a lot of cultural context to understand. i listened and when i ended up watching it for the first time i totally agreed that i wouldn't have understood it when i was younger.

she used to watch house when it came on and most of the time i didn't watch it with her even though she never said i couldn't because i really didn't like the parts where it would show the inside of a body. if i did want to watch, she would fast forward through those parts for me. i vividly remember watching house with her when thirteen comes out as bi. she paused the show to explain bisexuality to me and it was a huge moment for me as a queer person! the fact that she didn't brush past it or try to hide it from me helped me to learn and grow in my own identity.

the point is, the times when i was most confused or upset or alienated by a piece of media, it was rarely because there was sexual content. having warnings from my mom helped me to be prepared for things that might be beyond my expectations, and with her help i learned how to process and move through those things instead of ignoring them. i also learned that it was okay to feel like i wasn't ready to watch/read something. and i think that's a much safer approach to consuming media than trying to prevent kids from seeing or reading anything challenging until they're a certain age. it's all a process of growing and becoming ready for that kind of thing imo

I keep seeing aggressive "don't let kids read Wicked, it's inappropriate!!!" posts, and they're deeply irritating.

Would I recommend the novel to a random 12 year old I don't know? Probably not! But I first read Wicked at 12, and it's not like it permanently scarred me. It's not like I couldn't follow the plot. I didn't understand all the sociopolitical and religious commentary at 12, but that's why I went on to re-read it multiple times throughout my life. I get more from it each time.

There's sex and violence, yes, but I knew what sex was at 12, and I was seeing violence and war on the news every day. Why's the fictional sex and violence worse? Why should a kid not challenge themself with a book outside their comfort zone? Every kid deserves the chance to wig themselves out with a weird book they don't fully understand yet, and Wicked was mine.

My wife is very fond of a Mitch Hedberg quote I think is relevant here: "Every book is a children's book, if the kid can read."

(Also I think it's weird that people fixate on the puppet sex and the BDSM club, and not the parts where Elphaba bashes someone's skull in, or Turtle Heart gets lynched, or the soldiers abduct Fiyero's entire family as political prisoners. The "sex is evil, violence is fine" moral panic is eternal.)

[plethorawrites]

Hey, so imagine Jason with a reader whose parents are simply the most loving beings in the universe, like R's father taught him basic things that neither Bruce nor his biological father could (like how to fix a broken sink, how to assemble a cabinet and even love advice) and R's mother was practically like a mother to him (visiting them regularly even when her daughter is not home, bringing soup when they know he is sick and helping him choose Valentine's Day gifts for the reader).

This may be the cutest prompt I've ever received. I love soft Jason soooo much!! (I fear I am not out of my obsession stage yet.)

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Jason Todd obviously grew up with few to no parental guidance and when he got it, it was more often than not negative like manipulation and abuse or neglect.

So, when he meets his girlfriend's parents he's understandably extremely nervous. From what you've told him, they're sweet. But he knows perception can change quickly and let's be real, he's not the good, kind-hearted person anyone would want for their daughter, in his opinion.

That said, when he does meet them for the first time and your mom envelopes him in the biggest hug he's received aside from you (a chronic cuddler, which he's come to appreciate.) he's a little stunned for the moment. It takes him a minute to even remember how to speak to introduce himself.

This man, all 6'2 and 240 pounds of him, actually seems shy for a moment, trying to make a good impression. You find it adorable when his cheeks blush after your mom compliments him on all the nice things you've told them about him. He didn't even know you bragged about him to people, let alone the extent of it. Like yeah, sure, you showered him in affection all the time, but that was at his apartment or yours.

The fact that you had actually mentioned him often enough that they knew about some of his quirks— his disdain for fish because Bruce made him eat it all the time as a kid at fancy events until he couldn't stand it anymore and his desire to meet for dinner not lunch since he had an obscure sleep schedule because of his "job" was astounding to him.

Even though they couldn't know what it was, you still boasted about how he was very passionate about it and you were proud of him for how hard he worked. That, admittedly, made him blush a little harder.

"She says you've got late hours, I hope dinner won't interfere," your mom would tell him considerately.

He shook his head. "No ma'am. I don't work until later."

She beamed. "Well good, then, because we've been dying to meet you."

Even the things about him that he assumed most parents wouldn't be thrilled to hear about, yours didn't seem to mind.

"You grew up in crime Alley, right?" Your father was questioned, in between the salad and entree.

Jason swallowed. There it was, he assumed. The disapproval he was anticipating. "Yes, I did," he replied, nodding.

"It's a difficult area to grow up in," your father noted. "A very close friend of mine was born over there. He's as tough as they come. Very resilient and reliable."

Jason was taken by surprise. "Uh- yeah, yes. I suppose you learn to be loyal when you don't have many people to trust." He internally cursed himself for saying that. It was too dark and pessimistic.

"An admirable quality," your mother said sincerely as you squeezed his hand under the table. "It must have also exposed you to a lot of different types of people and given you a very broad outlook on life."

He just nodded, swallowing some of his water.

Your father had similarly commented that he seemed to have a great work ethic, which Jason clearly appreciated and considered important. Your dad also, at the end of dinner, when you were out of ear range, made a quiet remark to Jason about how he seemed to make you very happy and that's all he ever wanted for his daughter. Jason had been expecting shovel talk or threats. At the very least, judgemental stares, the way he was used to, but instead your parents were absolutely lovely.

And it very clearly wasn't some temporary ruse, either, like he thought it might have been. They really were good people, just like you. When you moved in with him, your parents helped the two of you pack your old apartment and unpack in his. Your mom even insisted on cooking dinner since the two of you were exhausted from all the moving. He would never say no to her cooking, since aside from Alfred's, it was the best he'd ever had.

It was only a few weeks later, in the middle of summer, when your air conditioner broke down. It was Gotham, so obviously it was hot as hell. And of course no one was reliable when it came to actually coming to fix it. Your father, however, was used to fixing things and came over when you casually mentioned it to him after it was broken for a week or two.

He was about halfway through with it when Jason came home and he immediately felt bad just letting him, so your dad pointed towards some tool and asked him for some help.

"I don't really know how to fix an AC. Vehicles are more my thing," he confessed, lifting a wrench to his hand.

Your dad shrugged. "Not that hard. I'll show you."

Jason glanced at where you were sitting at the table with a glass of lemonade, giving him a light shrug. "Okay, sure," he muttered, rolling up his sleeves.

Jason liked to think the two of you had a pretty solid relationship, as far as honesty and commitment went. He loved you, he was almost positive by the time you'd been dating 15 months that he wanted to marry you.

But you still, occasionally, fought the way all couples did. And when you did, it was usually because he struggled to keep plans or left you waiting up for him, only to come home desperately needing stitches.

The worst it ever got was when he deliberately lied to you, swearing he'd stay out of something dangerous and going straight into danger the second he could. Even though nothing that bad actually happened, you were more than a little angry. In fact, during the screaming match you had, he could swear he saw the exact moment your heart broke when you told him you thought he cared more about being Red Hood than he did about you.

You left for hours. Four of them.

And when he heard a knock at the door, he was hopeful it was you, having forgot your keys. Instead, it was your mom. His heart dropped, wondering what she was doing there—planning to yell at him for how he treated you, grabbing some things for you so you could stay away for several days, breaking up with him on your behalf.

All she did was invite herself in, making some coffee (just the way she knew he liked it) and sitting on the couch with him. He was confused and silent, until she spoke up.

"She's not saying what the fight was about," she told him. "I assume it's your work. The uh-... nightly aspect of it?"

He blinked a little. Something about her tone was more suggestive than he liked. "It- partially, yeah," he admitted. "I didn't mean to break my promise."

She nodded. "I know," she muttered. "And I don't think she's mad, just...scared. She doesn't want to lose you."

"She won't," Jason replied instantly.

Your mom's lips quirked into a small smile. "Then tell her that," she suggested, adding that: "Trust is fragile. It takes a long time to build it and a single action can shatter it." She patted his knee, standing up and he stood too, walking her to the door.

"Why do I have a feeling you know what the fight was about, even without her telling you?" He asked quietly if not with some suspicion.

"You're a very good man, Jason," she told him. "But it doesn't take a genius to know why those hours you work are so obscure." Before he could question or deny what he felt she already knew, she was giving him a small kiss on the cheek, the way she often did to greet and say goodbye. "Call her," she said. "I'll make sure she picks up."

So he did. And you did answer, like she promised.

You made up, like always and it wasn't even six months later that he was calling your parents, asking for blessing to propose to you. Of course they said yes and we're thrilled to do so. Your mom even helped him pick out the ring. Which took hours, half because he couldn't decide and half because she kept starting to cry.

When he finally did find the right one, she naturally helped him plan the proposal, too. He wasn't always the greatest at romantic gestures. At least not grand ones. He was always better at the subtle shows of affection—remembering dates and details or taking care of you when you're sick. He doesn't want to do anything overwhelming, but filling the apartment with twinkling lights and telling you—with several tears in his eyes—how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, is plenty for you.

"Yes?" He repeats, almost in disbelief that you'd agreed so quickly to marry him.

"Yes, yes, obviously," you repeated, sniffling to keep from crying as you gave him your hand, letting him slip the ring on your finger.

His arms immediately enveloped you, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around like you weighed nothing. Setting you down, his lips found yours for a deep, long kiss, before pressing his forehead against yours and nuzzling your nose.

"I love you so much," he repeated, even though he'd said it three times already.

He already saw plenty of your parents, at least four or five times a month, but it seems like he sees them nearly everyday when the wedding planning starts. Your mom is more concerned with invitations and linens or vows while your dad really just shows up for cake tasting, or trying the catering companies. Not to mention to judge and criticize the venue options.

Still, they're there more than his own father figure is, sort of like they have been since he met them. They're there on your wedding day, crying in the front row when he uses his love of literature to craft was perhaps the most beautiful wedding vows ever recorded. They're there to take care of your apartment when you're on your honeymoon, coming to water the plants and collect the mail, not to mention stock the fridge before you get back.

They're there for your birthday and his, as well as Thanksgiving and Christmas. They're there to help prepare for the baby when you eventually have kids, your mom by soothing Jason's nerves and your dad by helping him paint the nursery or assemble furniture. They're there after the baby is born and visit whenever you need a babysitter for a few hours or even days to spend time together.

They're there, he realizes. They're there and he loves that, not just for you or for the baby, but for himself too. For the little kid inside him that never fully felt like any adults around him truly had his best interests at heart.

[suzukiblu]

Day four of February’s second weekly WIP behind the cut; “mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“You ran really fast, like I’ve never seen anybody not a Flash run that fast, like I think you might’ve actually been faster than Jai and Irey and like my dad just flies when he’s moving that fast!” Jon rambles, kicking his feet against the bottom of his seat and seeming excited again, and Kon doesn’t really have the heart to interrupt him. The kid doesn’t seem as freaked-out or scared as he did before, so if spending the drive raving about watching a giant croco-dude get his shit rocked is enough to distract him from worrying about what’s going on, Kon’s not gonna cut him off. 

Just it’s–weird, kinda. The version of Jon he’s used to is a much quieter, more reserved guy, and he’s never known the dude well enough to figure out if he’s holding back or masking his reactions or if he’s actually just like that. The whole “volcano-trauma” thing would imply the former, but Clark doesn’t even seem to think Jon’s all that fucked-up from it, so, like . . . maybe he was quiet like that as a kid too? 

Or maybe, like, Clark is once again totally failing to see somebody else in an “S” being, like . . . fucked-up and needing help themselves for once. 

Not that Kon would know anything about that, or anything. 

Like, definitely Batman’s version of you don’t get to fuck up in this line of work is a lot harsher-looking, and definitely it’s not soft by any fucking stretch of the imagination, but it sure as fuck was a day when Kon’d first had the thought that Batman expects the other Bats to live up to standards that he’s spent weeks and months and years personally teaching them, and Clark kinda just . . . expects other Supers to be up to Superman-standards, but not in a way where he really ever, like . . . taught them those standards. Like–they were just supposed to fucking know, apparently? Like that’s a thing they all just came pre-installed with no matter how they got made or where they grew up? 

Also, Clark literally never taught him a fucking thing about his powers, and not really Kara either as far as he knows, and sure as shit didn’t give Kenan or even Mae and Linda back in the day all that many tips or whatever, and it’s like . . . at least Batman fucking tells people what he expects. Like, mostly, anyway. Batman has fucking dossiers of what he expects.

Maybe Jon got that, though. Got–told shit. Like, found out what the fucking standards actually were before they were immediately relevant or it was already too late or they were getting a disappointed lecture over shit they hadn’t known even mattered, much less mattered enough to be a fucking problem. 

Or like, how literally any of the goddamn Kryptonian powers worked. 

There’s a reason that Kon runs like a speedster; a reason that a very significant chunk of the fighting techniques and tactics that he knows are Greek or Bat in origin, if they’re not either Cadmus-uploads or tips he got from Guardian when they were working together back in the day. 

Or, like, that he got from Knockout, but “yeah I think that throw came from Granny Goodness” is, like, not a conversation he’s ever wanted to have with anyone. 

There’s also a reason that most of the shit he says that people assume he got from Superman he got from Ma and Pa in the, like . . . two lousy years he spent getting in their way at the farm, not Clark. Mostly he doesn’t repeat the “lessons” he heard from Clark, because he doesn’t like remembering how shitty he felt hearing them and really doesn’t wanna make anyone else feel that shitty either. 

It’s whatever, anyway. The League doesn’t really cross the streams or whatever, but the Titans have learned a little from each other, and Young Justice has learned a little more from each other. That’s all. Comes from, like, actually growing up together or whatever, he’s always figured. The Leaguers didn’t team up ‘til they were all real stuck in their ways, and they built the League around those ways, pretty much. And like, whatever, they’re the greatest heroes on the planet. 

But also if somebody told him he had to pick a speedster for a stealth mission, he’d definitely pick Bart or Wally over Barry Allen. 

Kon is really letting his brain run off on a fucking tangent here, but in his defense, it kind of feels like self-defense right now. It's think too much about shit he can't change and never could've or it's think about a version of Jon grinning up at him like he's the coolest thing he's ever seen, like he's–like he–

The kid thinks he's his fucking dad, Kon reminds himself harshly. He doesn't know who the fuck he is. Hell, he apparently doesn't even have a version of him in his reality. So like–obviously he thinks it's cool to see his “dad” fist-fight a crocodile dude in the middle of a fucking interdimensional crisis. Like–obviously, yeah. Very much so obviously. 

He's not seeing . . . anyone else when he sees him. 

Anything else. 

Like–the kid's just seeing his dad. Not his . . . anything else. 

Well, his own Jon doesn't see him as anything else either, so that's pretty SOP either way.

[apricotbuncakes]

[ID: Screenshot of Tumblr tags that read "#sigh this is the universe sending me a message (I'm on day 8 of binding for like 13 hours every day) #and i wonder why it hurts to breath #aaaaaaa #gender shit" End ID]

Ooooookaaaaaaah, big brother time.

So. Here are some things that I have learned to help me not bind as much. Note how I didn't claim this will make you less dysphoric. These won't work for everyone, but they did work for me.

1) Use neutral language about your breasts. Not like gender neutral language (though that may help too). What I mean is don't use negative language like "I hate my chest" or "my chest is bad". Yes I know those phrases are basic. But framing your chest in a neutral way may help you to not see it as a chore that needs maintained constantly and may help you feel less guilty about not binding or 'preforming' your gender (aka: presenting in a way that others expect).

2) Remember that you don't owe anyone a certain look or level of effort from your body. Not binding because it hurts and or you can't/don't want to doesn't mean you 'aren't trying hard enough' or 'aren't really trans'. If anyone tells you otherwise, they're a fucking dick who doesn't care about your health and you shouldn't care about them or their opinion. Your health and safety is more important than the approval of some dick whose allyship is conditional to you being the perfect tranny for them. And I mean that with all the love I'm my heart: If someone thinks you performing their ideal version of you is more important than you being safe and healthy, They 👏 Don't 👏 Deserve 👏 Your 👏 Love 👏 Or 👏 Attention! 👏 👏 👏

3) Don't bind at home in your room. Get used to being topless in your room. Literally, I've been topless in my room since my second year of highschool. I actually get a sense of euphoria from not having to wear a shirt in an environment where it's completely legal to do so. It's part of how I reframed how I look at my chest. I no longer hate myself for having a large chest, though I know I'll still feel so much happier when I have top surgery next month.

4) Have a 'lazy' binder. For me, that's a 'binder' that is loose and comfortable. It doesn't necessarily 'bind' me, but it's not a bra either. Ideally you have a nice binder and a lazy binder, but if you can only afford one, a loose tank top can also substitute as a lazy binder for you to wear under your shirts. This lazy binder is for you to put on when you can't bind 'properly' but you still need your brain to accept that you've 'put in the effort'. It's a lot less restrictive, but still provides enough support that your chest doesn't feel completely exposed.

5) Convince yourself that other people are just unobservant. Make a list of qualities that you consider gender affirming, and if someone misgenders you, think of that list and tell yourself "Pssh! That person is so dumb for not noticing [list of gender affirming qualities] that clearly signal I'm [gender identity here]." Don't remind yourself that you aren't binding or punish yourself for not 'doing better'. Just pretend that other people are ignoring the very obvious signs of you being your gender. (Literally, this has prevented me from crying at work).

6) If you can't take off your binder (because you're at work or school or wherever), try putting it on later in the day instead of trying to take it off before your event is scheduled to end. Wear extra layers when you go to wherever it is and then slip off the the bathroom to put it on. That way you don't use some of your binding time during the commute to the event.

Or if you're like me, get really good at putting on your binder under your clothes. You probably shouldn't be able to do that, but some people are also broke like me and can't afford to get a new binder every time the old one gets a little stretched out. I get it.

Final reminder that your health and safety is just as important as your joy and euphoria. Binders are a tool to help us achieve euphoria, but like any other tool they can hurt you when used incorrectly. Take care of yourself. Listen to your body.

This is coming from someone who learned too little too late that binding incorrectly will seriously hurt you. I can barely bind for more than a couple hours now without feeling some kind of discomfort, and some days I can't bind at all because it just hurts that bad to wear a binder. Do not follow in my footsteps. Please take better care of yourself than I did.

Fact #1047: The advice to not bind your chest for more than 8 hours at the time is not some transphobic conspiracy to foce you to experience dysphoria. It is advice given to you for your own safety. As mentally uncomfortable it might be to be without a binder, physically you need to give your ribcage a break.

[thisonehere]

HIM!?!

Cheating! Bi-Han x F!reader

Part 5 Of a Match made in Hell

First part

Last part

A/n: So...this came out a lot later than I had hoped, but a lot of personal stuff came up so it was delayed. I really think I'm getting closer to the end of this series though, maybe 3 more chapters? Idk.

Tags: @maulsgf @sweetpanda18 @thickemadame @posterbunny @strawbisane @fandom-garbage @sleepyfxce @livingdeadgirly

C/w: Mentions of blood and violence

'Was Hell truly that bad?'

Sareena thought as she gazed into the night sky.

Bi-han didn't come back yet. She didn't expect to see him yet anyhow, he was supposed to be gone for at least 2 weeks.

The demoness stood at the balcony in your old bedroom. Below outside the main Temple of the Artika many Lin Kuei were busy getting the last bit of work done before curfew. Some were trying to get to the cafeteria to get one last snack, some were coming back from light training before going to bed, others were busy transporting boxes, inventory from distant allies Bi-Han acquired. She even saw Kuai Liang and Tomas in the distance.

They were going somewhere, marching down the stairs with a suspicious look on their faces. They were up to something, Sareena knew that look well, Ashrah had the same look on her face, they were planning something. They didn't notice her looking down at them. They were too far away too, or they knew but ignored her. It wasn't a secret that they did like her, Kuai especially.

He blamed her. Bi-han defecting from Liu Kang; her fault. The deals he had made with me like Quan Chi and Shang strung and other dark forces; her fault. Bi-han cheating on you with her; her fault. He blamed her for everything. They all do. She's not blind to all the looks she's given as she walks by or the whispering that happens behind her back.

Sareena gripped the rose in her hand tighter. It was from your garden, she saw that Bi-Han as he attempted to take care of it. He failed miserably, so she took over and began to take care of it. It was so beautiful, she could tell that you worked hard on it, it would be a shame to let it die, you obviously worked so hard on it.

The beauty of your garden was a bit of warmth to brighten up the dull her lonely existence. Sareena wasn't close to anyone, she had no one. Usually she would be with her sisters, playing and laughing with them, which would make being in hell less harsh. But she can't, Khia and Jataka were dead, murdered by her own sister, Ashrah. She truly had nothing, only her thoughts. So she stood at the balcony and she thought.

"Was hell as bad as she remembered?"

Maybe she was just so overcome with grief at her sister's death that she couldn't stay in that place anymore. In her grief she found Bi-Han or he found her, right at the moment when she really needed someone. And it all felt okay afterwards, Sareena showed Bi-Han the many wonders of hell, and in return Bi-Han brought her up to Earthrealm, the place Ashrah abandoned everything for.

Sareena had found someone to love, and apparently she hurt someone in process, she hurt you. She didn't mean to, but she had fallen in love. And now the man she loves is somewhere in Earthrealm, trying to barge a deal with the likes of Kano. But she knew it was something a lot deeper, he was trying to win you back, she could just sense it. Bi-han had tried to never talk about you ever since you left, but he accidentally said your name here and there. Even in his sleep he whispers your name.

Sareena gripped the rose even tighter, feeling its thorn sink into her skin. 'Was it all worth it?' She wondered as she turned around to go back inside. Was this...this mess that she got herself into worth it for love?

---

Today was a wonderful day for Bi-Han. He enjoyed a sweet morning Sareena, had a trip journey to Fangjian where he had a lovely dinner at the Tea House, and then saw his wife with another man. What a wonderful day, the most wondrous day indeed. Bi-han thought it was so wonderful in fact that the moment he got to his hotel he began throwing whatever he could get his hands on and punching holes in the walls. He even began to lash out with his powers, throwing ice balls here and there freezing and destroying everything they hit. Wonderful.

The moment he saw you two, you and...him, it took everything in him not to break into your house and kill that damned actor. The image of his hands around Johnny's throat flashed before his eyes. He wanted to kill him, kill him and make you watch as he did it. Maybe even stab him open for extra effect.

Bi-han shook his head as he slammed down onto the bed. He still couldn't wrap his own around it. Him? Of all people, HIM?!?!

He would've anticipated Raiden, he saw the way the farmer looked at you. He knew the man had a crush on you, perhaps if you had gotten with Raiden he wouldn't be so furious. But out of all men you could've chose to do this-this betrayal with, you chose JOHNNY CAGE!?!?

The rage in Bi-Han was horrid, he rocked back and forth. All he was seeing right now was red as he began huffing in and out with harsh breathes, snarling like a rabid dog.

You didn't love him, you couldn't have, he tried to convince himself. No, knew that he'd follow didn't you, didn't you? You knew he'd see you with him. You did all this just to make him jealous, there's no possible way you'd ever love him.

You knew how much Bi-Han loathed the actor. In many ways, Johnny was the straw that broke the camels back. He humiliated him, he humiliated his brother. He's an imbecile! An imbecile that was chosen Liu Kang himself to represent Earthrealm alongside a two farmers and an ex gangster. Over him, or any other Lin Kuei. In putting into perspective just how Liu Kang saw his clan, he refused to suffer under him ever again. He'd make his decision for his clan, he'd lead them to glory, where they are respected and not seen as just lapdogs to be used.

You were supposed to be by his side, share this glorious destiny he was carving out for you. But you left him, and now...now you were-were...by the Elder Gods, it was too hard to bare.

He fell back onto his bed and he tried to catch his breath, tried to calm down. But every time he closes his eyes he sees it. You did nothing lewd, you were not kissing him, embracing him hungrily, you were merely holding his hand. But that's not what upset him what upset him was the way you looked at him. In your eyes there was so much love, and that killed him.

I have to pull myself together, Bi-Han thought as he sat up right in the bed. He will be meeting with Kano in just an hour. Bi-han closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in. The image of you and Johnny appears in his head the moment his eyes closed. "ELDER GODS DAMN IT ALL!!!"

*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*

"Who dares!"

The door slowly cracked open and a young face poked it's way out. The Young Black Dragons eyes explored the room, taking in the destruction with a confused horror.

"Speak, what do you want?" Bi-han snapped as he narrows his eyes. The young man cleared his throat and anxiously pushed open the door to fully reveal himself. His stance was awkward, his build thin, almost frail. Bi-han studied him up and down, he looked about 18, possibly event 16, a child.

"Um, Kano's ready. He sent me up here to tell you that he'll see you now." Bi-han could see how terrified the boy was of him, normally he woud feel some form of sympathy. But he could muster an inch of kindness inside of him. "Then what are you waiting for? Take me to him."

---

"Thank you for showing me that, Johnny. Ninja Mime was...an experience."

You say with a forced smile as you followed Johnny to the door. You always had enjoyed all the movie Johnny had shown, they were all fun and enjoyable. But Ninja Mime was...definitely a movie. The best part was Johnny, he provided great company and the snacks he made were amazing, his dumb smile as he happily told you behind the scene facts. It made the movie almost bearable.

"Don't thank me, babe. Thank yourself for allowing yourself to enjoy the experience." Johnny wears an ignorantly blissful smile as checks his reflection in the shade of his glasses. "Hey, when I come back we can start watching the sequels." Your smile is waned for just a second before you immediately bring it back up. "That would simply be splendid, Johnny. I can't wait." You say, hoping the faux enthusiasm you coated your words with would hide the dread in your eyes.

Thankfully, Johnny was in such a good mood that he didn't even notice. You hug him, his cologne was rich, almost intoxicating. It's like he showered himself in it before he came. "You know, in a few months, after so come back, I have an award show to attend, you should come with me as my plus one."

You tilt your head in surprise. "The monks are letting you go?" You didn't know much about Liu Kang or the training at the Wu Shi of their practices. But from what Raiden and Kung Lao described it as, they could barely leave thanks to this mess with Shang Tsung, Liu Kang seems to be pushing them harder and harder, keeping them at the Academy as long as possible. It's as if he's training them for war. You feel a shiver go down your back at just the thought of it.

Johnny shrugged "Liu Kang wanted me to stay, but I worked the 'ol cage charm on 'em and he had a choice but to let me go." A cocky grin flashed across his face as he bragged. "But seriously, though, you should come with me. We could get a dress, do your hair and makeup, everything. Millions of big people will be there, you could rub shoulders with them, make your big break into the industry."

You bit your lip as you thought about it. The idea of it all, the glitz, the glamour, thousands of cameras in your face, right next to one of the biggest actors, all for the world to see. For Bi-Han to see, oh that would kill the man. "I'll...think about it." You say, struggling to hide the excitement you felt thinking of it.

"Alright," Johnny with an equally excited look in his eyes. "I'll leave you with that, I'll kick a sorcerer's ass." His cocky smile returned as he swaggered out the door and into the cold night outside. He didn't see your smile drop and your body gets tense. "Liu Kang sent you to capture Shang Tsung?" You forgot about all the joy you had been feeling as you are brought back to reality. Johnny, Kung Lao will be fighting Shang Tsung. Raiden will have to stay behind so he'll be safe. And Bi-Han will be getting involved sooner or later, and they still think he's on their side.

"Hey..." Johnny turned and noticed the wary look you wore on your face. He smile softens, becoming a much more sincere look. "There's nothing to worry about, Whatever Tsung got I'm sure I can handle it. Besides, I won't be alone either. Lao'll be there, even Kenhsi'll be there. What could possibly go wrong?"

"I know, but it's about Bi-Han. He's been-"

But before you can finish, before you can reveal what your husband is doing, Johnny talks over you. "Oh, don't you worry about him, or maybe you should. Because the moment I see him I'm gonna knock him through a loop. For you...and also because he still owes for that damn Hichuli." You take a deep breath and rub your eyes. You pause for a moment to think, you couldn't sit on this anymore. You have to tell someone about your husband, what he's doing and who's he's doing it to. And you know who exactly to tell it too.

"Will...Will Liu Kang be there as well?" Your eyes fall down to your hands as you began to fidget with them. "Yeah, he sorta has to, being the' Protector of Earthrealm' you know. Kind of comes with the turf." Air fills your lungs as you take a deep breath. "Alright, could...could you speak to him for me please? I-I seek counsel with him...about me and Bi-Han."

"Y/n, You don't have to do that." By now Johnny had stopped with the smile, now he was truly worried about you. "I know...I know you loved him, probably still love him, whatever your planning on doing. You shouldn't put yourself through this. Things weren't easy dealing from Christie, it was hell." His eyes softened as he remembered it all, he took a slightly shaky breath in and out. "I don't want you to go through that pain. You deserve so much better than that asshole. You deserve-"

"I love you." You say abruptly cutting him off, Johnny quickly shuts up. "I love Raiden, I love Kung Lao, I love this new life I have. But I can't be happy, I can't be free unless I finish this chapter of my life. This is something I have to do." It's obvious that Johnny wants to protest, but he doesn't. He lets a deep breath escape his lips, and a clear defeated look is painted on his face. "Alright, I'll talk to Liu Kang. Get him to meet with you so you can sort out whatever it is you want to sort out with Bi-Han."

You sigh in relief, you feel like your body has finally calmed down. You get close to Johnny, finally smiling again and you lay a kiss on his cheek, much to his surprise. "Now go, Tsung's ass won't kick itself."

Nothing else is said gives you one last smile as he turns and walks over to the back where he parked his car. You stay on the steps for a second. Your eyes close as you take a deep breath. You feel cool night air as it rushes through your lungs, it was colder than usual, but you didn't care to think much more of it. You felt...good, amazing even. You were finally going to put an end to this, and then Bi-Han would out of your life forever.

---

"Well, don't be shy, dig in mate "

Kano lay slouched in his chair, around his lips were covered in a slobbered mix of food and alcohol. Bi-han tried not to scrunch his face in disgust at the sight of such a disgusting being. He hardly even touched the food Kano kindly set out before him nor interacted with the women Kano sent to sit next to him in the hopes of charming Bi-Han.

In his efforts to expand the Lin Kuei, Bi-Han has caused his clan to develop quite name for themselves in the underground scene. And ever the opportunist, Kano wanted a slice of this pie.

So now there he was, in a dark and dingy room, the basement to the nice hotel he was staying at. The place wrecked of beer and blood. The Lin Kuei who Bi-Han brought with him were gagging in disgust under their masks. They stood behind Bi-Han like Kano's black dragon stood behind him. None of them seemed to have noticed the smell or disgusting nature of their setting, they were no doubt used to it.

"Kano, your black dragon clan is most.... impressive," Bi-han had hoped his lie was convincing enough. "I believe there is much we can teach each other. And especially many things we can give each other." Kano seemed to hardly listen, as if he didn't truly care about a single thing Bi-Han said. So Bi-Han decided to get right to the point. "It has come to our attention that your clan seems to be in a moment of trouble. A certain blonde has been adamant about bringing your clan in, and might I add that she's been very successful so far."

Kano gave Bi-Han a glare from the side of his eyes. He stops his pigging out and sits up right in his chair. "Yeah, and what of it?" Bi-han sat upright in his chair as well, he smiled at how he caused Kano's to react. "My Lin are excellent warriors, yes. But they assassins as well, anonymity has always been our strength. I can have my people wipe away any trail you have left, no doubt making it harder for Blade to find you. I can have her "taken care of" even. I imagine that would be quite the relief for you and your men."

Kano narrowed his eyes, it was obvious that he was now intrigued. "Sounds too good to be true." Bi-han silent agreed. His attention went to the plate before him, blood sausage. "It is. Because we don't see the point, you've yet to give us a reason to want to help you." Bi-han slowly began to cut into the sausage.

"So what is it, mate? What'll it take to get you on our team?" Kano leaned forward in his chair, his robotic eyes basically glowing. Bi-Han set the knife down and ate a piece of the sausage, a mad smile on his face.

---

You awake from your sleep with a stir. The sound of knocking at your door was enough to do that to anyone. You try to ignore it, maybe whoever it was would go away. They kept knocking, and knocking, and knocking.

You can't take it anymore, you rub your eyes as you pull yourself into a sitting position. Your vision was too blurry to think straight, your brain was in no better condition. Who could that possibly be? Maybe Johnny left something. You groan as your tired bodies slowly stand up. It's like your still in a sleep state as you make your way down the stairs, one slow step at a time.

Whoever's knocking at your door seems to really want you to know their outside, they keep knocking and knocking. It sounds almost desperate, you would've noted that if it wasn't for the fact that your brain was basically still asleep.

"Who is it?" You say, your words barely more than a muffle. No response, just more knocking. You look through the key hole, nothing. Yet you still hear knocking.

This gets you to wake up just a little bit as your hands hesitently go to open the door. You fumble a few times as you try to undo the locks. Normally you wouldn't open the door this time of night, but something felt wrong, something that compelled you to the open the door.

So you did.

And there at your feet is Bi-Han, his lip busted, his nose broken, his eyes black, cuts all over his body, he clutches at his side. "Bi-han." You gasp as you fall to your knees to look at him. "What happened? Who did this to you?" You reached out to touch his swollen face. "The meeting...it went wrong...so...wrong..." he sputtered out, desperately trying to force out words. His eyes are puffy, you have seen the Grandmaster in a beaten state before. But nothing ever like this. "Y/n...I need you to help me..."

"Please," his voice is weak. His whole body seems weak as his head falls into your lap. "Help me."

[garez19]

unsent

yandere streamer x loser reader: [part i]

notes: female reader, not proofread, english is not my first language. have a very lovely day everyone!!! wc: 1.6k

alden, he called himself. he didn’t have lots of viewers, though you remembered some of his clips going viral once or twice. he still seemed content with his lack of fame though, and you could guess he wasn’t expecting to be popular anyways as the games he played were very niche, and did go unnoticed by the mainstream. you, however, liked exploring the pits of the internet, finding weird websites and lurking abandoned forums everyday. being an unemployed loser let you know all about the media. and for some odd reason, your favorite part about this addiction was when you got a notification from his channel. “denonthebeat IS LIVE NOW!” how you liked clicking on it in a heartbeat. how you liked listening to him ramble about his not-so-funny life stories. you couldn’t help but think how similar you two were most of the time—considering your almost identical music taste and the way you laughed at the same things, how his audience kept calling him a socially inept loser that needed a life.

he was the man in your dreams, and it was a tragedy he didn’t know your existence. hell, he probably didn’t even know your nickname, let alone the adoration you had for him. but, there was nothing you could do except being a ghost and watching him interact with a bunch of people who seem to like consuming the sort of content. because deep down, you know him acknowledging you wasn’t going to change much except that he would be familiar with your nickname maybe.

but the point was, your obsession over him wasn’t decreasing. you didn’t seem to grow away from him. and that was the one and only problem as for now —except getting a job and moving out, of course— and there was nothing to do about it. you couldn’t go and tell him you liked his content, or that you would like to get to know him on a deeper level. you were close friends in your world, maybe even closer than close friends. in reality, he was just another loser with a questionable digital footprint.

and when he answered one of the questions on live, your whole world turned into a dystopia, an unfamiliar bitter taste left in your tongue. you were making it too big of a deal, you knew it, yet, this screen was all you had—-a small utopia you have created. it’s full of suffering, but you’ve always considered yourself a girl full of hope. this world, the screen, was too small for you to explore, but he made it seem bigger, full of colors. so when he answered, you didn’t know what to do.

“oh, well, love is confusing, you see.” he shrugged. “there is this girl I’ve had the biggest crush on, and I can say that adoring someone often leaves you confused. but it makes you more ecstatic.” he said. there was a different kind of light in his eyes, or so you assumed. “so ecstatic that you get the urge to create. like, when you cannot get your feelings reciprocated, you just, well, you just go and create something out of that love.” he added. a heavy ache on your chest, the urge to vomit. the urge to tell him to fuck off and report his account for bullying. as if. as if he knew you. as if.

“anyway. if you feel like they show some signs, I’d say go for it. my situation is rather different though.” he smiled. he seemed hurt though, that much was recognizable, even through the screen. “or create something, if it feels too heavy to carry. I mean, I solely make content because of her— since I can’t seem to distract myself from being a sappy loser.” he laughed. hell, this was your favorite part of him, the way he wore his heart on his sleeve often made you admire him. this was what you hate him about the most, he wore his heart on his sleeve.

the comments calling him a loser and making fun of didn’t seem to affect him, as he was reading some of them and sneering.

“what is she like? oh… well, I don’t want you to clip this and upload it on youtube calling me a loverboy, pass.” he said. this could’ve been a fun topic if you weren’t oh-so-fucking in “love” with him. others were having fun though, as they kept spamming questions about it. “why the fuck is everyone so nosy with it?” he laughed. and you agreed. why can’t he just shut up about it and play your favorite game? or watch stupid videos and react to them? this was the first ever time you contemplated leaving the stream. the first ever time you didn’t have fun. “where did I meet her? take a fucking guess pal. over the internet, of course.” he, once again, answered another question. fucking loser, you mumbled, as if your situation was any different. as if you didn’t live on the internet. “we live in the same city though, she’s just too much of a loser to go out,” he added. you frowned. you weren’t going to listen to him ramble about this person any more, so you just closed the tab. you had better things to do anyways, like replaying your favorite game. the one he also seemed to like a lot.

“what the hell?” he cussed out, seeming puzzled. “she fucking left.” he kept clicking on random buttons as the chat went crazy over the whole situation. “dumbass.” he said, clearly annoyed. questions from the followers didn’t seem to stop. “oh my god, of course it’s not her,” he answered the allegations, “I was talking about my sister who was supposed to be a moderator.” he lied quickly. he didn’t even have a sibling to begin with, but he didn’t want you to have any suspicions as he had a very little follower list. “well, that’s all for today anyway,” he got ready to end the stream.

“have a good day, everybody.” click.

is she not having fun anymore? he assumed, his mind running miles. he had planned his schedule very carefully, and he couldn’t watch it go to ruins. not when he calculated every single interaction he could have had with you.

and well, it was true that you “met” on the internet. but that wasn’t the only time you did, nor was it the first time.

he was running out of time, he believed. when the teacher was asking dumb questions to how to get to know someone and pairing students up. “ask your partner how you break the ice.” she said, putting you two up. it wasn’t the way to strike up a conversation, that was for sure, and in an ideal world he wouldn’t have to do that anyway, since these people kept blabbering about their hobbies and stuff he couldn’t care less about. so when he turned his seat so he could talk to you, he wasn’t expecting anything. 5 minutes left.

“well, in my o—“ he was interrupted when you stood up. he looked up at you as you asked for permission to go to the bathroom. 4 minutes left. at least you were also on his side in this battle. well, socially awkward kids were everywhere, no? he knew you weren’t going to come back, realizing you’d been looking at the clock and contemplating leaving. you had squinted your eyes, hand on your chin— you decided to leave.

3 minutes left. he took a peek at his classmates, their awkward glances darting towards each other. the other pair next to him was doing fine. the girl –though she looked wimpy at first– was holding her own, keeping the conversation going and checking in with her partner’s opinion. 2 minutes left.

right then, you came back to the class. ready to pick up your bag and get out of here. you sat down, collecting your stuff. and although you two were on the same side, he still wanted an answer. he was not having fun here, and might as well make it everyone’s –everyone he had to interact with, to be precise– problem.

“what do you do to break the ice?” he asked.

you can’t escape from your fate, you thought to yourself.

“well, try to find hobbies you both share, ask them questions, stuff like that,” you answered, not hesitating to give the most cliché answer. “how about you?” you asked, repeating the question. 1 minute left. “you wanna go grab a coffee?” he offered.

“valid answer.” you replied, thinking it was just another example. you were ready to leave the class, and he couldn’t help but give a quiet chuckle. you weren’t sure what to make of it. “yeah, yours wasn’t exactly ‘valid’ though,” he snickered.

“why not?”

the second he opened his mouth to answer, the bell rang. you didn’t even wait for an answer, and there was an unbreakable ice there, or maybe unmeltable in a sense. but, either way, he was having fun. maybe he was really wasting time in this class, in this school, but maybe, he could make it at least somewhat enjoyable. the following days were as dull since you had been absent for the week. the next week, when the class was finally familiar with each other, you attended the lesson. socially awkward kids everywhere, yet he wasn’t sure if you were shiesty or just didn’t care about the situation. you still didn’t put any effort, that was the only recognizable thing about you. and you didn’t appreciate it when he tried to help you out here and there. you gave out a fake smile, thank you, you muttered, and go on with your simple life.

you reminded him of himself, the only difference being you didn’t try to make fun of socially awkward kids. and you weren’t as curious about him as he was about you. your goddamn phone and that one notebook you kept scribbling in made it hard for him to reach out.

good thing he had lots of time to waste.

[traincat]

Hi! I was rereading your fics and noticed that in Sticks and Stones you mentioned referencing Claremont's F4 run. Now it's haunting me because I can't find where their origin is brought up 🥲 So sorry if this has already been asked/answered, but perchance do you remember which issue it was 😅 (if not or even so, do you have any other good F4 origin moments?)

No worries, I've got you. It's a little hard to find if you don't know where to look.

This is a flashback from Fantastic Four v3 (1998) #11-12, which recontextualizes the crash and turns it into a horror story for more than just Ben. Claremont is really interesting as a Fantastic Four writer, and he loves thinking through the implications of Johnny's powers. Here, Johnny absorbed the heat from the shuttle crash, but he can't hold onto it and he goes Nova. The only reason he doesn't kill Reed and Sue accidentally is because Ben shields them with his rocky body. It's a really interesting interpretation because it sets up this dynamic between Ben and Johnny where they can fight with each other because they can't really physically hurt each other unless they're really trying. Ben has a degree of protection against Johnny's flames, and Johnny is fast and fiery. Claremont loves Johnny's powers, though, and he puts a ton of thought into what Johnny can and can't do with them. He also writes a very introspective Johnny. He's one of my top writers of all time for Johnny characterization.

(Just don't go into his run expecting the plot to make sense. It won't. But the characters are fun and the interactions are all really charming. He introduces three new female characters who are all great, too.)

In terms of Johnny's relationship to his powers -- specifically a negative relationship, not just the joy we usually see from him -- I also really recommend the Burn! storyline, which encompasses the first six issues of the Human Torch (2003) miniseries. It's kind of an origin story? It starts before Johnny goes to space with the others and then picks up after the crash, when he returns to high school suddenly not the loser weird kid. Fast forward a few years and his old high school enemy looks him up to ask for his help solving a series of mysterious murders involving the victims being burned alive. Fun stuff, really great ruminations on Johnny, his understanding of fire, and the amount of control he has to exert every day.

(Human Torch #3) You're going to have to put up with a lot of very early 2000s art. It's worth it.

Also not really an origin story but useful in understanding Johnny's origins is the Sue and Johnny power swap arc.

(FF #520) To save Sue's life, Reed swaps her powers with Johnny's, but the timing is pretty bad. Galactus takes Johnny as his herald, while Sue struggles with keeping Johnny's powers under control.

But okay, Fantastic Four origin stories, a crash course. This isn't totally comprehensive, just kind of a collection of my favorites and ones I find interesting.

Fantastic Four (1961) #1: The mother of all origin stories. Pretty one and done. We have to beat the commies to the moon! Cosmic rays! Shuttle crash! We've changed in horrible and fantastic ways! The world will never be the same! It's worth reading if you haven't read it before, but it's no Amazing Fantasy #15.

Byrne's retcon: Byrne doesn't particularly do anything interesting regarding the crash, but it's useful to know the changes he did make to the origin, because they were a point of contention for a long time. In Lee and Kirby's run, Sue and Reed are established as next door neighbors and childhood sweethearts. It's all very sweet. Byrne, though, LOVES an age gap with an older man and a younger woman. This is a theme you'll see repeatedly if you follow his work. Byrne retconned things so Reed first met Sue when he was renting a room at her aunt's house when he was in college and Sue was twelve. It's not great, but it does introduce the concept of Sue and Johnny living with their aunt after their father's incarceration. No run previously had ever mentioned such a thing. While the age gap was both immediately retconned out (Simonson did it as soon as he took the reins, establishing Reed and Sue as college friends, but it didn't stick) and eventually retconned out (Fraction retconned it so that Reed did stay at Aunt Marygay's boarding house but that Sue was over eighteen), the boarding house origin stuck. Not much to do with the actual "getting powers" aspect but interesting in terms of where Sue and Johnny were living when they met Reed and Ben.

Fantastic Four Mythos: Now we're cooking. Mythos is a beautifully illustrated oneshot retelling of how the Fantastic Four gained their powers. It's gorgeous, fun, and emotional. It's probably my second favorite origin story after Claremont's take.

Mythos posits that the emotional state the four were in at the time they were cosmically irradiated is responsible for their powers. Sue was trying to hide, Reed was trying to reach her, Ben was shielding Johnny, and all Johnny could think was that it was hot. It's an interesting interpretation. Sidenote, I'm pretty sure the new Fantastic Four movie is drawing inspiration from Mythos, just based on the visuals.

I love him so much. Idiot baby.

Fantastic Four: First Family: Oh boy where to go with this one. I don't dislike it, and I think it explores the origin in a much more realistic way, but I wouldn't say it's my favorite. First Family is a miniseries that takes a more grounded approach to the origin story. After the crash, the four are imprisoned on a military base as they adjust to their powers.

I think there's a lot of interesting ideas in this version, but I wouldn't really recommend it to any new readers as an origin story. I think it's more of an interesting way to examine things after you're already basically familiar with the FF's early days if you want to see a more grounded take on the origin.

Fantastic Four: Season One: Another miniseries retelling the origins. Is it good? Not particularly. Is it shiny? Yes. Does aged up Johnny work as a pinup model before the accident? Also yes.

It's giving the Chris Pine leather pants desert photoshoot. Again, not my first pick for an origin story by far, but if you want to read some mildly campy nonsense, you could do worse. If you don't want to read it, which is like, probably the smarter idea, please note that Johnny registered the domain name hottieonfire.com and that he's obsessed with the whale from the American Museum of Natural History. Samesies.

Ultimate Fantastic Four #1-5: This feels like the equivalent of going "want to make some bad decisions." Ultimate FF is NOT good. I know I've said that a hundred times. I've also read it a hundred times so who's the idiot now. I do think the origin is an interesting take on things, though, and like First Family it's more grounded in the exploitation of the Fantastic Four by the military. So not good, wouldn't recommend it as baby's first Fantastic Four origin, but not completely not worth reading.

Origin stories I don't recommend:

Fantastic Four v2 (1996): This is when the FF got bubble universed. It's basically a retelling of the early days that doesn't add anything new or interesting.

Fantastic Four: Life Story: Life Story was an interesting experiment. The idea was to have a six issue miniseries where each issue took place during a specific decade -- issue #1 would be the 60s, #2 would be the 70s, etc -- moving the characters through those decades aging in real time and dealing with both the major storylines of those decades as well as the real world events that were happening. Like I said, interesting experiment. The actual comics, though, and I'm counting the Spider-Man one here too, were bad. Like so bad. I'm going to give you the only thing of note in it here and then you don't have to read it. (Don't let this fool you into thinking the rest of the comic is progressive in any way; the writer decided Jewish Ben should say pork was "the food of the Gods" and also that Romani Dr. Doom should put people in concentration camps. Whole yikes.)

(FF Life Story #2) That figure sitting in bed with Johnny sure looks like a guy. Interestingly, for your value of interesting, "perpetual bachelor" Johnny dies in 1986 in issue #4, and issue #5 immediately opens with T'Challa creating a cure for AIDS. Take that one as you will.

One final kind of a rec. This isn't really an origin story for the Fantastic Four as characters, but rather a retrospective meta take on the creation of the Fantastic Four as a series. Fantastic Four: Unstable Molecules is an Eisner winning miniseries dedicated to the fictionalized "real people" who inspired the Fantastic Four, positing that one night at a dinner party on Long Island, two comic book creators encountered a family fight so epic it inspired them to create a comic book. Deeply introspective, it's take on Johnny and the Mole Man (yes really) really shines.

(Unstable Molecules #3) Sorry to turn this into a "Johnny is flaming" discussion once again. It just kind of comes up naturally when you look at his origin stories.

[stariekis]

what are we?

pairing : non idol!sunghoon + fem!reader . genre : fluff, childhood best friends to lovers . cw : kissing . wc : 4.9k

check my other works ₊⊹⁀➴ masterlist

synopsis — falling in love with your childhood best friend doesn't always have to be something bad.

uri's note — taking a break from the texts just to post this little sunghoon au ! nah i love him i giggled while writing this.. hope you guys do to jeje

Sunghoon and you have been best friends since day one. Both your and his parents met in highschool and since then they became inseparable, just like him and you.

You share all your childhood memories with him; every trip, every birthday and every first day of school there is always Sunghoon by your side. And it happened, you didn't want to, but it did happen. As you grow up together with him you develop feelings for your childhood best friend.

He was pretty handsome since he was young, and everyone knew that he would be even more attractive once he became older. And that's exactly what happened. His delicate features, his tall and broad complexion, he was like a porcelain doll. And you couldn't help but fall for it, along with his sweet personality.

Now, both of you are in college. You remember feeling so sad when you discovered that he had to move out of town to study. Even more because the summer before he left you finally realized that, in fact, you like him. Maybe more than like. You loved him

Being apart from him was going to be a torture, you were so used to have him around by now. But you kind of wish that not having him so close to you all the time would help you get past your little massive crush.

But, to your dislike, that didn't happen.

Each facecall, each message he sends you talking about his day and how cool his new college is, every picture he published on his Instagram did not help you at all. You couldn't stop falling in love with him every time.

Summer break finally came and Sunghoon went back to your hometown. He, of course, called you as soon as he reached his house. You didn't waste a second and hopped into your parents car and drove straight to him.

“Y/n?”— The front door opened, Sunghoon’s mom was standing right behind it with the prettiest smile adorning her face. He looked just like him. “He is in his room, go and say hi darling”— She moved aside and, after thanking her, you runned up the stairs to Sunghoon’s room.

You opened the door, revealing a pretty much shocked boy sitting on his bed. He didn't expect for you to come this fast, but he surely didn't wait a second to jump out his bed and hug you.

“I missed you so much” — You said, while hiding your face in his neck. He chuckled, slowly pulling away to take a glance at your face. One of his hands tucked your hair behind your ear.

“You look so pretty” — He whispered. You blushed at his words, of course you did. “You look even prettier than the photos you sent me” — He was admiring your face, every detail of it making sure to remember every single mole even.

Once you pulled away completely he took your hand. “Come with me, we have a lot to talk about” — He said, pulling you towards the door.

He took you to the park near his house, both of you spent your summer days there when you were little. It was kind of your special place.

Sunghoon and you sat on the swing as you talked about everything that had happened while you were apart, even though you talked to him every single day.

As the sun sets a comfortable silence falls between you two. A silence that was soon broken by him.

“There is actually one thing that I haven't told you about, and I need to be fully honest with you” — You looked at him confused, and scared too. Did something happen? Have you done anything wrong?

He stood up, standing now right in front of you as he took your hands. He pulled you slowly towards him, making you stand up. Your confused looks never left your face.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time and since I moved it has been the only thing in my mind” — His fingers trance round shapes in your hand, he was nervous. He sighs. “Y/n I like you, a lot, and I feel like this might be mutual but I didn't wanted to talk to you about it because I wasn't sure, and I also was far away from you and, if by any chance, you felt the same I knew I wouldn't be able to be away from you at that moment” — He looked away as soon as he finished his speech, not able to look at you, at least not now.

You smiled, your cheeks were tinted with a slightly red color. Your long time crush liked you, as much as you liked him. Was this a dream? If it is, you hoped you never woke up from it.

“Sunghoon” — You grabbed his chin, making him look at you. “I've had the biggest crush on you for the past years, i don't know how you didn't notice, even your mom knew it” — You swear his eyes almost pop out of his face.

You giggled at his reaction. He then took your face in between his hands, now looking directly at your eyes. “What are we?” — You cracked at his response. Was this really the first thing he had to say after your confession?

“Whatever you want us to be, but I would love to be yours Sunghoon” — He smiled, his pretty fangs showing slightly. And just like that, he closed the distance between you two, giving you the sweetest kiss you've ever received in your life. And the first one too.

Now Sunghoon was part not only of every memory of your childhood, but also the most important parts of your adulthood.

taglist : @layzfy @laylasbunbunny @yuminako @sugarikiz @rikiontopofme (open ; send an ask to be added)

[sociallyawkwardseal]

Today is a... "I'm going to read as much as I can" day

[moeblob]

Erin, to her crush: You're a dick

Mason, the crush: I won't argue! But to clarify -

[thedevotionaltour]

thinking about daredevil yellow again im not. going to make it Guys.

[playingonedchess]

hmpf maybe those tumblr people are really right about what characteristics make a type of person, considering how long it took tumblr to condition took me, a straight/cisgender guy, into being into shipping

[kamitv]

Getting a call while Suguru’s balls deep inside you sounds so interesting, lowkey.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Your fiancé would coo into your ear, cock dipping in and out of your sopping cunt languidly as his hot breath hit the crown of your ear.

It would all be so intimate. The way Geto has you beneath him, holding your shaky legs open for himself as his heavy balls smacked against you every time he thrusted his fat cock into you. His hips were moving slow but his dick was splitting you open.

"Sugu," You'd gasp, nails scratching at his toned back as you panted out a heavy breath of air, "Fuck-, mmh..."

"Can't get enough of this pussy, mmgh. Listen t'her talk t'me," He whispers to you, the messy slick of your cunt wetting up his shaft as he drew his hips back hitting both of your ears, "Y’like that, baby? Like bein’ stuffed like this, hm?” Geto questions.

Though, his words weren’t directed to you.

He often did that during sex— talked to your cunt, referring to it as she and baby just like how he talks to you. And it gets even worse whenever he’s giving you head.

Currently though, as Geto talks you, and your pussy, through his steady strokes, you moan his name up until your phone begins to ring.

The sound of your loud ass ring tone makes your lover groan, leaning up away from you just to catch sight of who the hell was calling you. To his surprise, none other than his best friend’s contact name was beaming across your phone screen.

“Hahh,” Geto cracks a half smile, “The fuck is Satoru callin’ you for?” He asks, sounding annoyed despite the amusement etched onto his features.

The curve of his cock sinks deeper into you as he reaches for your cell phone and you scratch at his chest, too fucked out to render what the hell he was talking about. All you wanted was his body pressed up against yours again.

“S-Suguu, shit-, ignore it, please.” You huff out demandingly, earning nothing more than a mere glance from your fiancé as he peers down at you from the corner of his eye.

Swiping your phone up, “Why’s he calling?”

“I don’t know,” You pout, extending a hand to his neck and trying to pull him back down to you. Your attempt almost works as Geto is tugged a bit closer to you, his hips still and his eyes back on your phone buzzing in his palm.

Cocking his head to the side, he smirks, “Find out then,” Suguru says to you.

You’re confused for only a second before an explanation is given through him answering the call and pressing it to your ear. Your eyes go wide as you realize he wants you to talk to Satoru while he’s balls deep inside you.

Gulping, “Sugu-“

“Hello?” You get cut off by the connection of the phone call and the sound of Gojo’s voice in your ear.

Your fiancé smiles down at you and whispers, “Go on, talk to him, baby. Promise I won’t move,” He hums all too sweetly.

It was definitely suspicious coming from him. You’ve been down the road more times than you can count— Geto promising not to fuck you while you talk to someone but ultimately doing so anyway.

With pleading eyes, you nod, hoping he’ll keep his promise this time around. “Hi Satoru,” You say into the phone, watching your fiancé mock you through his facial expressions.

“Heyyy, how are youuu?” Gojo purrs over the phone, his tone letting you know he definitely called to ask you for something.

You take a deep breath, “M’fine, can I ask why you called?”

“Straight to the point I see,” Gojo says with that smug voice of his.

Rolling your eyes, you release a sigh, "Yeah, I guess so. I'm kinda busy right now so uh, make it quick." Your tone was a lot more put together than you expected of yourself, especially with Geto's thick inches stuffed into the hilt of your cunt.

And for a while he doesn't move, he just sit there, marinating in the warmth of your cunt and listening in on your conversation.

“Well, then," Gojo starts, his voice suddenly enthusiastic, "Remember when I came over last week?"

Geto starts to lean up again and you send him skeptical eyes, to which he flashes another innocent smile at you. Then you sigh, "Yes, why?"

"Did I uh, leave my jacket there?" The male over the phone asks.

You blink, "You could've texted me this question y'know," The end of your sentence comes off all too breathy as a thumb suddenly swats over your clit, your free hand moving down to Geto's finger and trying to swat him away.

He just smirks at you though and presses the pad of his thumb into you, watching the way your back arches a bit and your lips part.

"Yes, I could've texted you this questions buuuut, you always ignore me," Gojo argues.

You bite your lip for a moment as Geto draws small circles around your clit-- you knew he was going to do this and yet you still weren't prepared for it. "I do not," You breathe out.

On the other side of the phone, Gojo tilts his head and his borws furrow, "You alright over there? Y'sound out of breath."

"M'fine, Satoru. And n-no, I haven't seen your jacket," You stammer as Geto starts drawing his hips back his eyes locked down on your cunt and how lewdly it's spread open for his cock, smirking before he spits down on it.

"Right... Well can you ask Suguru then?" Gojo continues, "I really need it for-"

"Can I just call you back?" You say all in one breath, trying your best to keep your composure as Geto eases himself back into you, fucking you so very slowly that it's both tortuous and stimulating at the same time.

The full stretch of Geto's thick girth way driving you insane, the way he'd ease back and then push forward, thumbing your clit simultaneously as his salvia smeared and mixed with the mess you've already made of him from earlier.

"Please?" You suddenly whine, not sure if it was really directed toward Gojo or Geto as you said it.

That's when Gojo pauses, his hears practically perking up at the tone of your voice, "Hey... No need to beg me to get off the phone, y'know," He hums, his voice suddenly... lower? "I would've hung up without the please but I dunno, you sound busier than I expected."

Your brows furrow at his sudden resistance toward ending the call, "Meaning?" You question, eyes focused on your fiance's face which was twisted up and he groaned quietly due to the sudden squeeze of your cunt.

There's a slight scoff over the phone, "Oh nothing, just uh-, well, am I interrupting something?"

Your lashes bat in disbelief of Gojo and Geto's losing his mind at how much your pussy's throbbing around his cock. Was that his doing or his best friend's doing? What exactly was Satoru saying to you over the phone and why were you squirming so much?

Geto tears his eyes away from where the two of you are connected and he looks at your face, spotting that you're basically just as confused as he is. Tipping his head to the side, he locks eyes with you and decides that that's the perfect time to thrust every inch of himself back into you.

The way your jaw drops, a moan pouring out so clearly and obscenely-- it makes Geto smile, nearly forgetting that Gojo probably heard that...

Probably would be an understatement too because Gojo's on his end of the call with his face flushed and his eyes widened, "Did you just moan?" He questions.

And as he does so, Geto decides not to hold back anymore, working up that brutal pace of his thrust by thrust as you slap a hand over your mouth and moan into your palm.

Barely even able to utter a response to Gojo, "N-No," You gasp, "I just-, mmh. Fuck, can I please call you back?"

Gojo blinks. Then he swallows, thickly, "Where's Suguru?"

Your mouth opens to respond but the phone is suddenly taken from you. Geto places one hand to your lower abdomen and pushes down slightly on the imprint in your skin where his cock is, his hips smacking into you roughly as you body jerked and you spasm.

Then you hear Geto speaking and realize he's taken the phone, "Busy fuckin' her to tears, call you back later 'Toru," He hums out simply.

Gojo coughs and then he laughs, "Hey wait," He stalls without second thought.

Your fiance tilts his head into the phone and his hips grow a bit harsher with you, the pressure of his hand on your lower abdomen making his swollen cock hit deeper and deeper. Then there was that mean curve of his, beating into where you were sensitive and making you whimper.

"Hm?" Geto hums in response, sounding almost annoyed.

"Y'Mind if I stay on the phone and listen?"

(pt. 2)

[drop--pop--candy]

thinking abt The Memory Issues again. sad!

[what-is-it-to-be-pk-esque]

not to be a hater but i'm not excited

[willyoubemycherryy]

“Who’s your new friend?” (Salesman x reader)

Summary: Your dad’s dark stranger is the one for you. Too bad about his cruel streak….

Contains: sit down chicas this is a LONG one, plot but gratuitous p+rn, dads!friend au, rough sex, edging, pussy spanking, he’s mean :( , choking, drugging, everything IS consensual bc I’m tired of everyone writing him as a domestic terrorlzing rapist, he’s still psychotic and unhinged tho, just not psychosexual because psychotic traits don’t always translate to sexual violence, your dad is sweet but trusting and naive, squirting, pussyspanking unprotected sex (don’t be a dummy, wrap your gummy) begging, degradation, praise, cursing, reader is a bit of a bitch, light dom/sub dynamics, his cock is stuuuupid fat bc I said so and have eyeballs, ur 22 in this period and he’ll spit in your mouth in the next installment of this series :)

A/N: Yeah, he got me y’all😔 Gong Yoo sexy, fine, tall, handsome ass got me😞I’ve been tripping out for 17 days straight over this man sooo…

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ _ _

_ ➵ ✩ ◛ ° . +

You knew your dad often had strange friends but this one takes the cake.

Raising a skeptical eyebrow at the tall man your father was currently introducing you to. Standing over 6 feet in a pitch black suit he was extremely easy on the eyes with full lips, perfectly styled hair, relaxed posture and not a wrinkle in sight paired with the darkest almond eyes you’d ever seen. You rove your eyes over him once more before looking back up to find him staring back at you…

Yes, he was perfectly lovely but was it too soon to assume something about him was..off?

You feel your face warm at how strong his gaze is but you stare back defiantly, mentally cursing your too trusting dad.

“…and since we chat almost everyday during our commute to work- would you guess that we’re both in sales and marketing?- I thought it’d be great to invite him over and talk more in a more comfortable setting!” Your dad says excitedly, smiling as he tells you all about his new friend. The man smiles alongside him, cheeks faintly dimpling and despite your distrust, you can’t take your eyes off of him as you feel your heart beat harder in its cage.

“I was going to call to tell you I was bringing company but you know I forget to use that thing.” ‘That thing’ being a modern phone to a man who was awful with tech. You scoff but nod to let him know you don’t mind (completely) and because you already know how your father is and he continues,

“Oh right! Speaking of forgetting, I don’t remember if I ever mentioned my daughter even though I know I probably did-“, you listen to your dad introduce you and the man smiles even wider as he steps forward, offering his hand to yours in a shake.

“How pleasant to meet you.” Holy shit. His voice is a lot deeper than you expected and you absentmindedly place your hand into his waiting one. The way it completely encases your hand due to its sheer size makes your heart stop before it melts down to a warm pool in your lower stomach, settling in your core like hot tea as you breathe out a shaky exhale. His hand is also rougher than you thought it’d be for a simple businessman as it squeezes yours and a quick flash image of that same hand around your throat has you snatching your hand back as you shoot him a tight smile.

“Right. Back at ya. Um, how old are you again?”

“Ah. Isn’t that improper to ask new people?”

“I’m just curious to how you maintain a career as developed as my dads because you seem so young.”

Oh. You’re quick witted; that makes things a potential hassle for him.

“Well, I’m much older than you. I’m certainly older than your father.”

“Ha! Are you also the Emperor of China-”, You’re cut off as your dad says your name in the way he does when you’re being rude but you ignore it, glaring at the man.

“Be polite! He’s older so you should speak respectfully”, you barely hide the roll of your eyes but your fathers new friend catches it and you swear you hear a huff of amusement from him, the low sound makes you shiver as you turn on your heel to go back upstairs, your dads scolding calling after you.

“Aish! Spoiled! Brat! You were so much cuter when you were younger!”

“Whatever!”

“Bellybutton lint!”

“Old man!”

“Oh yeah?! You won’t be 22 forever!”

The only response he gets back is the sound of your bedroom door slamming while you’re all too aware of the eyes on your back when you’d left. Your dad sighs as he runs a hand down his face. The salesman simply stands quietly, grinning as always as he observes your little spat. Something about it caught his attention though.

“She’s young.” And your father agrees, insisting that’s part of the reason for your behavior, you apparently were “much nicer” and he nods in understanding.

“College age is tricky. I met her mom around her age and things are so much more different than they were back in our day so I try not to be too hard on her but sometimes she’s so-!” He tilts his head as he waits for your dad to find the word.

“Difficult!”

Ah. How cute. A little attitude problem.

That honestly doesn’t surprise him because most pretty little things almost always had one- you were no exception. Though, you yourself were a pleasant surprise. He’d maintained a friendly relationship with your father on a mere whim, finding him to be…nice unlike most he considered nuisances, so when the man invited him over one day he accepted and as he trailed through the door behind him, taking in the warm tones of your house when he spotted you. Standing near the island by the kitchen in shorts so tiny the wide waistband made them look like a mini skirt, the words ‘PINK’ on the back and a snug white tee shirt, the blue of your bra peeking through, you walk towards them smelling of fabric softener and cold vanilla. Your hair was down as you stared at him like you were both scared and wanting with big eyes full of suspicion. The gloss of your lips shining back at him as your lips curl during your inspection of him, lightly arched brow raising as you gave him a thorough once over, eyes flicking back up to his when you were done. You were absolutely delicious to look at. Short, smart mouthed, pretty and prissy.

He didn’t mind the rude way you spoke to him- no- because your eyes tell. You were weary but interested; cynical in all the ways your father wasn’t but that was perfectly fine.

His smile slowly shifted into a smirk as he followed your father to the living room, humming whenever he would speak, but his thoughts were preoccupied.

Thinking of smooth legs on a cute face he’d love to see wet with tears as he spanked your smart ass raw.

•

•

•

When you went upstairs the first thing you did was grab your headphones and tune out.

What the fuck was your dad thinking??

You huff as you flop on your bed, scrolling through your favorite apps while you tried to slow your thoughts.

Everything is fine.

Your dad always has the most unconventional friends and acquaintances so this was probably just that and you were freaking out more than usual because he was unfathomably attractive. That’s it. You just needed to get a grip. But fuck would you love to ride him through the weekend if only he didn’t have such a concerning aura…and wasn’t pals with your dad of-course.

About 2 hours later when you go downstairs to get food and bring it back to your room-answering curtly when your dad asks if you want to join him and the hot stare of the suited man you’re trying to pretend isn’t there.

“Hard no. Do I look like a nurse? You two senior citizens can play amongst yourselves.”

You sigh when you get back up to your room, FaceTiming your friends as you eat, talking about whatever and whoever before you remember you need to organize some of your class notes and say goodbye before you hang up.

It takes less time than you thought it would so when you’re done, you go about your night routine. Teeth, skincare, oversized cotton shirt, lights off as you put on a movie you’ve seen a million times. It’s harder for you to fall asleep when you can still hear his deep voice through the walls talking and laughing with your dad, shaking your core as you toss and turn- physically fighting the feeling- until you fall asleep.

X

Another few hours later, you wake with a start. Something’s not right.

You can still hear the tv downstairs but no voices. The hairs on the back of your neck stand and as you turn your head towards your door- pulling the covers off your legs, the sight of a tall dark figure rips a blood curdling scream from your throat. In that same second the figure steps closer, the light from your tv illuminates him and your heart races as you stare back wide eyed at your dads suited stranger friend. You’re still gasping and reeling as he sits down on your soft bedding, watching with rapt eyes at you trying to calm down from the near heart-attack he almost gave you.

“W-what..what the fuck?!” He smiles as you get up to yell in his face, gesturing wildly.

“Why the hell are you in my-“, you cut yourself off as another realization dawns on you completely and he can’t help the compulsion he feels towards you.

“How long have you been in my room- wait where’s my dad?!” If you knew who he was and what he did for a living, you’d be much more agreeable…or maybe not and that’s what fascinated him about you. You were so unusual. Wanting to steer clear of him instead of on, even though he’d piqued your curiosity, you didn’t blindly follow like every other nuisance did; instead he was the inconvenience and the way you let him know via sharp words and distrusting looks was something he hadn’t gotten in a while. The way you brushed him and your hard working dad off with no more than a pretty glare while probably never having actually worked for anything in your life made him itch to correct you. Make you say sorry- break you back into the sweet girl he knew you could be.

“I swear to god- WHERE IS MY DAD-!“, before you can raise your voice anymore, turning to go find him yourself, he’s pulling you back by your wrist, covering your mouth with his other hand as he hooks his chin over your shoulder cooing at you to calm down - listen to him a bit.

“Shh. Your father is alright, had too much to drink so he’s passed out downstairs but safe nonetheless.” You feel your body relax against your will at his words but you still bite his palm for scaring the hell out of you. The pain that blooms up his wrist from his hand makes him hiss against your ear and you wish it didn’t sound so good before it trails off into a light chuckle.

“I’m going to move my hand. You won’t scream. Understand?” You roll your eyes but nod anyway and a few seconds later his hand is lowered but he keeps you sitting up against him.

“Look- if you’re some kind of extortionist or blackmailer, my dad only works for clean honest compan-“,

“I’m none of those things.” Huh. You’re even more confused but the silence that follows he doesn’t break instead he waits for you, enjoying your discomfort as you shift against him.

“Then what the fuck do you want? Nothing better to do in your ancient age on a Tuesday night besides creep around?” Your mouth would be the death of you and this might very well be the moment as you mouth off to a complete stranger who could be (and actually is) very dangerous but bravado was all you had. You’d seen and heard more than enough to know that an older man in a suit visiting a young girl he didn’t know in the dead of night never ended well.

“I want to chat for a bit.” You tilt your head a bit in confusion but he takes your silence as the go ahead, making your heart pound when he shuffles even closer causing you to feel his firm pecs through his expensive smelling dress shirt; the heady combination makes your pulse race as you fight yourself on whatever it is exactly that you’re feeling but shouldn’t be.

“When your father mentioned you, you sounded like such a nice girl…”, the low way he speaks resembles a purr, words vibrating his chest, thick arms holding you tight to him as his warm breaths coast across your chest and neck.

“Imagine my surprise when I meet you and you’re nothing more than an ungrateful little princess with a pretty face but very nasty attitude.” You feel your face warm in shame at the blatant way he calls you out, immediately defensive as you shoot back,

“What’s it to you? If you want to see some obedient thing then get a boarder collie-!” Enough of that. His hand claps down over your throat, squeezing not enough to hurt but enough to make you shut up as your heart rate spikes, nerves going haywire at the sudden cut of oxygen. You get dizzy quick. Blood rushing through your ears like a current of cotton, hand flying up on instinct to pull at his muscled forearm but it doesn’t budge and you whine- biting your lip as your heart beats liquid fire through your body. You were so fucked up, clamping your thighs shut as if that will stop you from getting wet but it’s hard to pay attention to that with a tight hand around your neck and mean lips against your ear.

“Didn’t your father tell you to respect your elders?” He tuts out and you nod desperately, willing to swallow your snideness if it meant getting air. He loosens his grip enough for you and you gasp so hard you nearly choke, the sound turning him on more than it should; he grabs your chin so you face him with teary eyes and he nearly groans at how weak you look. The sedatives he slipped in your dad’s drink would last for a while so for now it was just you and him.

“Answer me.”

“You first-“, you’re quick to shut your mouth as a smirk grows on his face. A fast learner.

“Smart. But”, he pauses to put you on edge before continuing, “because I quite enjoy your father and his company, I don’t like the thought of him being troubled by anything.” His words are sweet but they also fill you with dread because you know how much you intentionally butt heads with your father. Mouthing off at him just to amuse yourself sometimes. You never meant to stress him but messing with him a little was how you showed your affection.

“That includes you as well.” He rasps against your neck, nipping the sensitive skin there with more teeth than tongue and you choke on a moan, breathing hard.

“Okay. Got it. I need to be nicer-”,

“No, you need a firm hand.” Oh fuck. You bite your lip at that, watching through bleary eyes as he rubs his other hand down your chest, brushing your hard nipples through your shirt as he feels up your soft curves. The hand around your throat tightens when he feels you might move but when you don’t he doesn’t loosen it- instead he rewards you with wet, scalding kisses behind that spot under your ear, suckling down until he reaches your collarbones. Your eyes water from all the sensations as you try to rationalize what’s going on before you lose yourself to how good you feel.

The hand caressing over your body doesn’t stop, threatening to burn you alive with the heat it ignites in you. To make matters worse, you can’t even breathe deeply enough to calm down with the hold he has on your neck and you’re reminded of how pathetically wet you are whenever you move your legs as you’re completely naked underneath your shirt. So much is happening but it’s not enough. Fleetingly scarce touches is all you’re being given but you need more. You shouldn’t want this, want him- or anything having to do with him- but you do and that thought scares you more than any potential repercussions.

He watches you with an unreadable expression as you shift constantly, sliding a hand under your shirt to cup your tits, flicking and twisting the stiff nubs cruelly between his fingers. Laving his tongue over each bruise he’s left on your neck before choking you harder, making the veins on the back of his hand show and your mouth drops open, hoarse broken moans falling as your hips twitch upwards. This was how he liked you. Melting into him so obediently…

“You’re going to be a good girl now?” He asks like it’s a question but the even in hazy state you’re falling into, you know it’s an order. He loosens his grip again so you can answer, voice hoarse,

“..y-yeah.” The softened tone you use when you respond makes him hard beyond belief and he bites your shoulder with a satisfied groan and you swear your cunt has a pulse. The familiar burning ache is so blinding that you listen immediately when he tells you-

“Open your legs.”

He almost didn’t hear your sharp intake of breath. He barely noticed the way your hips snapped up to hump his hand… he was preoccupied with just how wet you were. Your arousal coats his fingers as he slides them between your sopping lips making you keen through shuddering breaths as you try to control yourself. A few hard circles to your clit shatters that control as you cry out, needy sobs falling from your gloss smeared lips while you beg prettily for him.

“Please! I-! I’ll-anything! Just-!” His hand collar tightens again as he slides two fingers knuckle deep in your spasming hole, immediately curling them towards him, grinding them against that spongy bundle of nerves inside you and the fire that’s been steadily burning inside you almost makes you black out from how quick it threatens to consume you. You’ve never felt more out of your mind, your cunt so soaking wet it’s audible. White-searing pleasure shoots electricity through every nerve and you’re screaming. Between the fuzz in your head from oxygen loss or the brutal way he’s fucking you with his fingers- the one thing you do know is that if you cum now, you’ll faint.

“Waittt- mm-! S-stopp!!” It’s the struggle of a lifetime to get the words out but you do and when you do, surprisingly- he listens. Taking his fingers out as the strings of your slick drip from them and you cry at the loss, the ache still there but you could at least breathe. You feel a nip at your ear and you only then notice the way you’ve rested your weight completely against him.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” His voice is thick with arousal from how wonderfully you responded to him. So wet he could taste it in the air as you trembled and cried against him. The water in your eyes spilling down over as they rolled back into your skull. Your face was the perfect erotic expression of tormented bliss as he made you earn air and fight off an orgasm so strong it would’ve put you in a vegetative state.

The sound of your weak sniffles make his cock ache as he lays back on your bed, maneuvering your hips over his as he opens his pants, taking his length out he moans at the pressure relief. Swiping his fat head through your messy folds but not inside.

“Well? I need you to answer me. Or do I need to get it out of you myself?” You shake your head, lifting your arms when he moves your shirt up off you and now you’re completely naked while he’s still clothed. As much as his stare intimidated you, his attentions felt even better, moaning at the dirty kisses his cock gave your hole.

“Was gonna cum…but you didn’t say I could yet”, you reach up to use his arm as leverage while you wiggle your hips and your submission drives him mad with how much he wants to ruin you.

“Aw. That’s cute…but if you came before I let you, what then? Are you smart enough to tell me?” He asks sweetly but the condescending undertone makes you feel dumb as heat blooms in your chest and you will away the fuzz that’s making it hard to think so you can give him a proper answer. One that would please him. The fact that you even wanted to please him was something you’d have to get back to.

“I’d be in trouble?” You say it like a question and less of an answer and he finds your uncertainty so cute as he laughs indulgently at you.

“Close. It’s because you’re my good girl. And my girl only does as she’s told, yeah?” The same trickling tingle at the base of your skull is back again as you mindlessly repeat after him.

“Yeah.” He hums, lining himself up with your drooling pussy, sliding in with one thrust. Gritting his teeth with a heavy groan while you choke on a sob.

“Fuckin’ tight-!” Deep grunting in your ear overwhelming you in the best way and you lose it from how full you are. You could’ve guessed by his height and frame that he’d be packing but it felt fatter than you would have ever been able to accurately guess, pressing effortlessly against every spot that made you see stars.

You were everlastingly grateful your dad was knocked out because the sounds coming from you and your room were beyond incriminating. Even though he wasn’t moving, every-time you did, you could feel the deliciously heavy pressure against your slick walls. Shivers wracking up your body as wheezing fucked out moans left your mouth and you grind down in messy circles until the hand on your throat stops you.

“Look at you. Desperate n’ wet begging to cum. You’d do anything I tell you, huh? Just like a dog.”

A disgustingly pathetic warble is his reply but he wants more from you, choking you hard as he pinches your sensitive nipples.

“Uhhn! Yes!” The sheer desperation in your shaky voice gives him a sick head-rush.

“Open your legs for me.”

You obey before he even finishes his sentence. Thighs falling apart, cooled air over your center makes you moan wetly as you wait patiently. So patiently that the first heavy slap against your pussy winds you by the time the pain registers. As soon as the sting settles, warmth pools in its place, sensitivity heightened as you wail. The stricken sound makes his cock throb inside you.

“Wha-!”, another slap cracks down on your swollen lips, hitting your clit spot on and again and you try in vain to wriggle away.

“You still need to prove to me that you’re sorry for your behavior earlier.” He says, voice casual but no less mocking and you cry. Tears running down your cheeks as your body struggles to adjust and obey. Before you can shout out however many strings of apologies it’ll take for him to let you cum, he strikes your center again, hissing in pleasure at your screams. He feels it. That somehow you’re even wetter, dripping down his balls and smearing your slick all over the front of his slacks. He has half a mind to make you clean it up when he’s done with with you as he spanks your cunt again, biting your ear hard until it reddens.

“If you cum before I tell you, I promise I’ll make this the longest night of your life”, he groans darkly in your ear. You’re blessed that you can still hear him through the bass of your heart’s beat and the loud, wet connect every time his hand comes down. You were so close. The sharp sting and the pained pleasure of swelling warmth his heavy hand left behind was too much and your poor clit couldn’t take much more. Gasping through your tears, you scramble to find the right words.

“‘Lease- please! Ah-m’sorry!” Your raspy voice breaks halfway through when lifts you only to slam you back down on his fat length, flicking your sensitive nub when he meanly asks you,

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Try again, little girl.” You night just be in for a long night after all.

You could barely breathe from how hard he was choking you, swollen pussy enflamed from countless spanks, and your center was stuffed to the brim as he was so big that he didn’t even have to try to hit your spots. You scratch and wrestle with his hand until he loosens it, gasping and whining, you pray you don’t come from the instant relief it gives you. The rush settling over you like a fuzzy blanket. He shifts below you and you hurry to get the words out before he makes you come without his say-so.

“I’m- I’m sorry! So sorry! Please Sir, can I-!”

Sir. You called him sir.

It’s less of you apologizing but more of you submitting to him, acknowledging him by title that he held superiority over you that pleases him enough to let you cum. Cutting off your sweet begging with more mean, heavy slaps to your wet pussy, basking in your delighted wails as he fucks up into you.

His hand tightens around your throat and this time, you welcome the suffocating pleasure. Scratchy cries escape when they can but you’re so far on the road to ecstasy that you don’t even care how you look or sound, chest heaving as your eyes water. Your cunt feels like it’s on fire but you beg him in every way you can to keep going even though you can’t take it and he does, groaning against your ear as he rubs messily at your throbbing clit.

“So good, baby- you can cum. Make your little mess before I make you beg some more-”, he does not have to tell you twice as everything you’ve been holding, releases and you do make a mess.

Mouth dropped open as you sob and for the next couple minutes hot unending pleasure is all you know as the stinging slaps get faster, ending with harsh circles on your bud after each one and your hole gets even tighter before you go limp- liquid jetting out of you. He fucks you through it with a tight grip on your windpipe, using you like a snug fleshlight until he’s coming harder than he has in a while at the state he’s put you in. He waits until he catches his breath to slide out of you- who’s deadweight as he lifts you off him.

Rolling off the bed, the silence makes him look over at you only to see that you’re out cold. His eyebrows raise as he huffs out an amused laugh, fixing his pants before brushing his hand over your pretty face. He might have overdone it he thinks as he sees your face return to it’s normal, less flushed hue. Leaning down, on impulse he presses a kiss to your cheek, his gentlest touch of the night before getting up and covering your worn naked body with one of the many blankets on your bed.

“You’re a treat in more ways than you know.”

As he stands, before he opens your door to leave, he pulls a card out of his pocket and leaves it on your nightstand then heads back downstairs to get his shoes and jacket. Turning off the tv where your dad sleeps easily and quietly slipping out the door, smiling the entire way. Now he has even more fun.

You.

•

•

•

When you wake up the next morning, you turn with a pleasant ache and stinging between your legs as you stretch, sighing with a blissful smile until you remember why you ache and who caused it.

Pushing yourself up, you stop when you see a card on your stand, rolling to the edge of your bed, you swipe it off and raise it to your face. It’s a picture of lollipop, a simple circle on a stick but the words below it make your chest warm and you don’t even bother pretending to yourself that you aren’t interested in seeing him again.

“Next time I’ll make you even sweeter.”

In part 2…