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captainlondonman · 9 months ago

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Skin or not Skin

Jake remembered exactly the first day he got off on Skinheads. The day when Skins started to infiltrate his brain. He was walking down the High Street when he saw in front of him 3 Skinheads from the rear. Two were in tight bleachers which seemed moulded to their arses, the other was in camos. All had high boots with either red or white laces, the boots were highly polished. All wore Alpha bomber jackets. The taller was clearly powerfully built and his green jacket had the sleeves pushed up to show off all his tattoos and Jake could see the spider web tattoo all the way across his neck. The other two guys were smaller, the chubbier one’s arse really filled out his bleachers he wore a black alpha bomber and the third guy wore green to go with his camos. They walked together in a threatening way and Jake could see people turning round to stare. He heard the tall one shout out

‘What the fuck are you looking at. Never seen a Skin before. Quit the looking or I’ll punch the living daylight out of ya.’

‘Who the fuck’ he turned to his friend. ‘We’re skins we own this fucking place. I take no fucking prisoners.’

Jake’s cock was rigid, he looked down at his trackies and Christ it was making a huge bulge. He quickly wrapped his jacket over his trackies to conceal it but he felt so horny looking at these powerful gays with their shaved heads. They oozed power and aggression. He was under their spell.

They walked off in a different direction but as soon as Jake got inside his flat he had his cock down his trackies, still rigid and now a large wet patch of precum showing. He flipped his cock out and leant back against the wall with his eyes closed dreaming of especially the tall guy imagining what he looked like from the front, imagining that if his bleachers were tight on his arse then he would be showing a huge bulge inching its way down his leg. He wanted to be at the guy’s mercy on his knees ready to take the cock all the way down his throat. He wanted to feel part of the Skin. Jake’s decent sized prick was almost vertical it was so hard as he started to run his hand up and down the shaft his cock head glistening with precum. The more he rubbed he more he could almost feel himself under full control of the Skin, being a full sub to his top. He could see the full picture of the Skin and his mind was in overdrive as his wanking brought him to ejaculate. He threw his body outwards, shouting ‘fuck me Skin let me be your slave.’ His spunk lashed out, the biggest wank and most cum he had had in ages. He was hooked.

Jake could not get the ideas of Skinheads out of his mind and he started trawling the internet for photos. Once he got on to Tumblr, there were photos everywhere, not just normal pics but Skins fucking and sucking each other. Jake had never wanked as much in his life. The more he looked at these sites he suddenly one day decided he needed to have some of his own gear that he could wear around the flat. Nobody need know but at least he could feel more like a Skin. He went on to eBay to see what he might get and sure enough he bought the long white socks, the Lonsdale T shirt and red braces. He went on to the Doc Martens web site and found the high boots with red laces. Under bomber jackets he found the green Alpha jacket just like the tall skin who even though he had not seen the guys face was becoming his idol. Finally there was a bleachers site and he looked to see what was available. He hardly needed to decide it had to be ones with the rear zip. He was impatient to have them all and each day hoped the postman would deliver the clothes he craved for. They duly arrived and he was ready to wear for the first time but he also purchased two other items to complete his pleasure.

Jake laid all his new clothes out and stood back to admire. It was all Skin gear and he could wear the things that Skins wore and feel like one of them even if he wasn’t. It wasn’t as easy as he thought to put it all on especially lacing up the boots but before he managed to step into his bleachers his cock was so hard and pulsating with pleasure. Just like his hero they were so tight at the arse but his thick cock was stuffed down his right leg making a bulge that he never knew he had. There was the beginning of a precum stain showing. He put on the T shirt and then attached the braces to the jeans. At first he pulled them up but then remembered his idol let them hang down and so he did the same. He put on the green alpha bomber last and stood with his legs apart staring at his new look in the mirror. OK so he still had his head of dark wavy hair but he looked like a God, almost a Skin. So he could act out the part he took his new piece of clothing out. A full rubber hood with eye slits and another for his mouth. He pulled it down tight and it was pressed tight against his whole face all the way down to the base of his neck. He then looked at himself. Now he no longer looked like Jake but like a Skin. He let his arms swing wide and staring into the mirror he shouted

‘I’m a fucking Skin mate, I’ll fucking kill you. You want a fuck well I’m a skin fucker. I take no shit.’

His cock was bursting as he felt himself become a skin but he needed the one final thing. From his bed he took up the 9” black rubber dildo and let a few gobs of spit roll over the shaft. Easing the rear zip down he let himself go into the squat position and pushed the dildo up the crack of his arse. Watching his reflection he carried out shouting ‘I wanna be fucked by a skin. Skin to fucking skin. A good sized dick up my arse. Only a skin dick.’

He could feel the dildo moving up inside him until it was all the way up to the hilt. He felt as if his idol was inside him. His skin idol fucking the living daylights of him and he also a skin.

Using one hand to push and pull at the dildo he undid his front zip and yanked out his boner, taking it firmly in his other hand.

‘That’s it mate fuck me you skin and let me cum.’

The more he rammed the dildo in and out of his arse the more his hand gripped his shaft. He was hardly needing to wank such was his excitement at seeing himself almost a skin and with a black rubber dildo all the way up him.

‘Fuck me you fucking skin, take me, spunk all the way up me man.’

And with that he came his cum spraying across the mirror, running in thick globs down, white and thickly creamy.

That night Jake slept in his full skin gear feeling encased being a skin. He woke up every now and then to press his hand on his seemingly constant erect cock. He had never felt like this.

He had hoped to rush home from work the next day to get back into his gear but had to meet friends after work for a drink His mates asked him if he was Ok as he seemed on edge but it was only because he wanted to stand in front of the mirror and shout abuse at himself.

As he left the pub he suddenly caught sight of his Idol, again the rear view only. He was on his own and looked as if he was on a mission. This time Jake thought he did not want to let him out of his view so quietly managed to follow him. He went down the edge of the old railway sidings making it difficult for Jake to hide but he managed to keep on the other side of the old railway carriages. The Idol walked into the darkened tunnel and stood at the far end leaning against the wall. Jake could now see what he looked like and it was even better than he imagined with the shaved head, the cobweb tattoo and a scar on one of his cheeks. He had obviously been in many fights and his nose looked like a boxer’s having been broken several times. But to Jake he was all man and good looking. As Jake stared at him his cock was hard and he started stroking the trousers as his breathing increased. Suddenly he was aware of a noise on the other side of the carriages. Crouching he looked under the wheels and saw a pair of high Doc Martens with white laces moving towards the tunnel. The guy stopped at the tunnel opening. The Idol turned round to see who was approaching and put his hand to his crotch stroking the full length of his shaft and arching his back out so they could see the full thick outline. The new Skin stopped and also stroked his bleachers. He was a muscle guy with just bleachers and vest and Jake could see the tattoos all down both arms. The Idol unzipped his flies and brought out his cock. Christ it looked huge and was glistening in the night light. He then took his hand and started massaging the shaft. The other Skin started walking down the tunnel until he was facing the Idol who put one arm out grabbing the guys hand and placing it firmly on his cock, his other arm going round the Skin’s neck and pulling him in to tongue him. Jake thought he would cum without any wanking he was so excited.

Suddenly the Idol moved his arms and spun the Skin round so he was flattened against the wall of the tunnel. The guy put up his arms and moved his arse out into the Idol’s crotch

The Idol pulled down the rear zip of the guy’s bleachers and poked two finger into his crack, moving them around to widen the hole. Taking the finger out he let spit drop onto his prick and rubbed it gently up and down the shaft so his spit covered the full length of his tool. Placing one arm on the guys shoulder he used the other to guide his dick into the crack and slowly Jake could see him shoving it up the full length. The skins mouth opened in pain as he could feel the thick diameter force its way up. But he clearly loved it as he pushed his arse outwards so he could feel the Idol’s pubes rub against his bum. With his cock fully up, the Idol put both arms on the shoulders of the skin and started to push and pull sliding his cock almost the whole way out and then ramming it back in with greater force. The more he pushed the more the Skin shoved his arse backwards. The idol gripped hard the shoulder blades as his pleasure increased. Jake could make out that he was nearing his orgasm. Jakes cock was so hard it was painful and though he put his hand into trousers it was caught inside so he had to rub the denim. As the Idol shot his load so Jakes own cock exploded down inside some of the cum oozing out through the fabric the rest forming a long drip line. Jake was breathless. This was like a dream come true the only drawback was that it was not him with the Idol. The two skins zipped up and giving one another a good tonguing, went their separate ways. It was only raw sex they wanted and both had been satisfied.

For Jake this was almost a dream come true, seeing the Idol ‘s large prick and then seeing it ramming the other Skin. He hardly slept working out his next move but he knew what had to be done.

The next evening when it was dark he put on all his Skin gear apart from the mask and slipped out of his apartment with a long coat covering most of his gear up in case someone saw him. He drove down near the tunnel and parked up then got out to hide in the bushes. His heart was racing. Would the skin return looking for more sex. The mere possibility had his cock hard the bulge straining against his bleachers. He heard a noise and sure enough his idol walked past and into the tunnel loitering at the end where there was a glow of light.

Jake was terrified but he so wanted to have the Skins cock. He put on the rubber hood pulling it tightly down over his head and neck. No one would know he was not a skin as the hood was so tight. He moved out of the bushes and started to walk towards the tunnel, making sure he walked with a swagger just like a Skin his arms slightly out as though he might be ready for a fight.

The Skin saw him at the end of the tunnel and stubbed out the ciggie from his mouth to let his hand come down and stroke his bulge. In the dim light Jake could make out the long hard bulge. Jake let one of his hands rub his own dick in the hope the Skin could see that he was also well hung. Jake felt like a skin about to have a session with another real Skin.

Trying not to breathe too heavily he approached the skin and stood in front saying nothing but waiting.

‘Luv your fucking hood mate .It’s making me feel right horny. I’ve a boner and a half here and need a good blow job so quit the looking, get down in front of me mate.. I want to see you unzip me and get yer hand inside my sweaty crotch and pull me out. You’ll like what you see. I want you to take the full length.

Jake did as told and got down on his knees and put his hands up to unzip the bleachers. He opened the button so he could get his hand inside and pushed his hand down past the hairy balls. Shit it felt as if he had to put his hand all the way down the guys leg to pull it out.

‘Don’t yank at it mate it’s me fucking prick.’

As Jake pulled it out so he could see the large head glistening with precum. He lowered the bleachers more so he could also get the balls out, and they were well hung.

‘Glad you like the balls as well mate as you can pull them while you suck me off. Luv me balls being pulled. Now get some of yer spit onto me dick before you suck.’

Jake let a big gob of spit emerge through the slit in his hood. And putting one hand around the guys balls he took hold of the shaft with his other hand and moved it to his mouth. The Skin could see the cock head sliding past the rubber slit as it entered Jake’s mouth

‘I fucking love the hood mate. Luv seeing my dick going through the rubber.’

At first Jake thought he might gag but all he wanted was to have the full shaft slide down the back of his throat. As he grasped the Skin’s bleachers so the Skin let his hands slide over the hood.

‘Fucking love your rubber mate makes me even hornier. Almost as good as a fuck. Love me hands on the rubber pushing my dick further and further into yer throat. Shit man you love cock the way you’re gobbling me. Now pull on me balls, yank them down let me feel some pain.’

Jake grabbed the balls even tighter and pulled hard.

‘Fucking hell that’s sore mate but feels fucking great. Now suck.’

As Jake pulled so the Skin holding Jakes rubber clad head pushed his head in and out towards his pubes. Jake’s mouth was so full of cock. This was real.

‘Shit man I’m gonna come so get ready to take all me spunk and swallow it so you feel me going all the way down into you. I luv yer fucking rubber.’

And with that the Skin exploded his cum into Jake’s throat, so much cum that it started to ooze out the rubber slit and down the front.

‘Shit man what a fucking blow job, yeah man.’

Once he had come he pushed Jake’s head back and took his hand to wipe any left over cum off his dick before stuffing it back into his bleachers.

‘I need to see what you look like mate, you’re something else.’

As we went to put his hands on the hood Jake said

‘No man leave it as is you liked the hood so let’s leave it at that.’

‘Did you not hear me? I said I want to see what you look like. Do as I say or Ill fucking knock you.’

The Skin leant over Jake who was by now terrified and slowly grabbing the base of the neck the Skin pulled the mask up and over Jakes head.

Jake could not move. The Skin stared hard at him.

‘You’re not a fucking skin. All that clothing is just a joke. That fucking mass nof hair. You’re fucking pretending. Nobody but a Skin has sex with me. I fucking hate someone like you who thinks he is skin. It’s not just fucking clothes. It’s a way of life. You slimy little bastard.’

‘I’m sorry but I love skin clothing and I’ve seen you around and so wanted sex with you.’

‘I could fucking kill you trying it on with me and having me cum like this. Don’t think you are getting away with this so stand up, NOW.’

Jake was almost paralysed with fear and did as told. The Skin put Jake into a stranglehold, tightening his grip around the throat.

‘I’m sorry, I really am.’ Jake blurted out. ‘I just wanted to be like you.’

‘You don’t fucking piss with me mate. Fucking little bastard. I’ll teach you. I could fucking well strangle you now.’

Jake felt his breath was being squeezed out of him, was becoming more and more dizzy, the pain increasing as he tried to breathe. Suddenly it was too much and he passed out.

Little by little Jake could feel his eyesight returning. He was not dead. He was not standing and he could hardly move his head. He realized he was on his knees but his neck felt cold and it was as though his neck was in a brace. He had no idea where he was . It suddenly dawned on him that he was in a cage and his head was jammed into a hole in the cage but not just that as he brought his hands up to his neck he could feel a steel collar around his neck. As he managed to look in front him, unable to fully raise his head he saw a pair of bleachers in white laced Doc martens in front of him. The Skin was on a stool facing him.

‘Wondered when you’d fucking well come round. So how do you feel. You’re mine now and it’s up to me what to do with you. Only I can let you out. I see you pissed yerself when I choked you but at last it’s drying out. Anyway bleachers are best if they’ve got dried piss down them. Skins like their boots nice and shiy so you can start licking mine.’

The Skin put one of his boots up into Jake’s face.

‘Now let me see a few good gobs on them before you lick.’

Jake cleared his mouth and spat several times onto the boot.

‘Now let me see you fucking lick. Start with the sole until I tell you to do the caps.’

Jake could feel the dirt and mud from the boots come up into his mouth. He wanted to gag but knew he would be punished so he swallowed and got on while the Skin stared at him.

‘That’s right mate now get on with the cap.. Let me see your tongue go all over.. Stick your fucking tongue the whole way out so I can see.’

Jake extended his tongue and licked over the surface. Being in the cage and at the Skin’s total mercy, licking boots made his heart race and he could feel his cock inching down his bleachers.

‘Good boy, now lick me other boot but let me cover it with some of my spit so I can see you taking in all my gob.’

The Skin spat hard on the boots, thick slimy spit.

‘Bet you love me gob eh mate? That’s right really lick, let’s see whose spit is best.’

Jake wanted to swallow the Skin’s spit as though he was devouring the person and making him part of him. Jake let his tongue linger on the spit and slurped it on the toe.

‘Lovely stuff mate. You see you’re mine. So you thought you could get away being a skin with that fucking hair of yours did you. No Skin has any hair we shave every other day and make it nice a shiny. That way you know not to mess with us. We are hard men and that ain’t just our cocks. So you know what is coming next. That hair of yours is going and soon you can see it all piled up on the floor.’

The Skin got out a barber’s electric razor and started working it over Jakes head. Jake wanted to shout out to stop but he wanted his hair gone and the more hair that was shaved off the more aroused Jake became.

‘Bet you’ve got a fucking boner with all this mate. Once I’ve finished with the electric razor I need to take the hand razor to get it all off so will put some shaving foam over your head. It’s all coming off a fucking treat mate. Gone all that fuzz of yours.’

Once the skin had used the razor he took a wet towel and removed all the remaining foam off to reveal a nice shiny bald head.

‘OK mate you keep the steel collar on but I’m letting you out the cage so you can stand up. No funny stuff about escaping cause I fucking punch the living daylights out of you.’

The gate was released and Jake crawled out slowly standing up to his full height in front of the Skin.

‘Now let me see you proper. He took his large hand and slapped it over Jake’s face a couple of times.

‘A few bruises makes you look the real stuff boy.’

‘Shit man you sure look a fucking good skin. You looked a right pussy boy before but now scalped you look fucking great. And what did I say?’

With that the Skin took his hand and grabbed hold of the outline of Jakes stiff cock straining at his bleachers.

‘I said you had a boner and not a bad one at that. I like me skins with big dicks and you pass the test. Turn round.

Jake did as told and then felt the skins hands moving across his arse.

‘Those bleachers of yours sure give your bum a nice tight shape. I love a solid arse and you know what your arse is for eh boy.’

‘Yes sir to be fucked,’

‘Too fucking right. What with that arse of yours and yer erect pole I fucking wanting to shag you and get my dick all the way up that arse of yours. So bend over the cage but first get that cock of your out and lemme see. Jake stuffed his hand down his trousers leg and pulled out his dick.

‘Let me get my hand around that boy. A good thick one you’ve got there. Might need to feel that up me at some stage but for now you are mine.’

Jake almost shivered as he felt his cock being squeezed by the skin and feeling his beery breath on his face.

‘So you’ve seen mine but have another look now before I get it up you.’

He pulled out his cock, and he was clearly feeling so horny it was almost vertical.

‘I’ll need to push this one down boy to get it up you as you’re making me feel right horny. So before you bend over bend down and let some of your spit on my dick. That way it’ll go up easier for you.’

Jake let two big gobs on to the thick shaft and bent over, the Skin unzipping the rear of the bleachers.

I always fuck a guy in gear. Naked ain’t the same. I like my guys in full skin.’

The Skin got down behind Jake and put his face up against Jake’s arse using his tongue to lick and with his hands he could spread Jake’s cheeks wide to let his tongue get up the first part.

‘Lovely soft arse you’ve got there. No taste of shit. Now get ready to take this. Spread your legs and you’ll find it easier to take my thick tool Jut that arse out as well.’

Jake was almost gagging to be fucked by the Skin. This is what he had wanted since the first day he saw the guy. As he stuck his arse out so he felt the skins head burst through the opening. For someone who was so aggressive in his way of life he was gently taking Jake knowing that his tool would hurt unless Jake was ready receive it.

‘Like that boy?’

‘Its fucking great. A right monster you have there’

‘I like your use of the word “Fuck” boy as we skins use it all the time. Shows we mean business.’

‘Then fucking fuck me sir.’

‘Don’t worry once I get this up to the hilt in your arse don’t expect me to be gentle. Now that’s it in really push yourself up against me then you have all of me inside you. Shit man you’ve been fucked a few times before. That arse of yours has had a few cocks up them.’

‘Yeah but none like your cock.’

The Skin put his arms round Jakes thighs.

Now stand up so you can press your body against me.

As Jake stood up so the Ski put his arms around Jake holding him tight and then kissed his neck.

‘Shit man I want you and not just tonight. Seeing that neck of yours has decided me that tomorrow you’ll have a good tat put across the back. I wanna see “Skinhead” and in big letters and then on your shoulder you’ll have my name showing all the lads you belong to me. Now let me get my hand onto that cock of yours and we can both orgasm at the same time. You’d like that eh?’

Jake gulped as the Skin rammed his cock in and out as he let his body go from tight against the Skin and moving it slightly out until the thick head was almost ready to pop out but he knew exactly when to stop and then force himself back against the Skin.

‘Fuck, wank me man let me cum in your hand. I wanna have your hand covered in my spunk. Go on fuck me man, fuck me hard’, Jake shouted.

‘Take my fucking dick, feel me deep inside you sliding that massive shaft of mine up and down that juicy arse of yours. I can feel that dick of yours pulsating ready to erupt.’

‘Just fuck me, cum all the way inside me and get the spunk all the way up me.’

‘You’re about to get it I’m ready man. So you too man spunk away.’

‘I’m a fucking skin being fucked by a fucking great skin. Its fucking brill man that’s it fuck me unload that spunk now.’

And with one final push the Skin shot his load deep inside Jake’s arse and the Skins hand was covered with thick creamy spunk.

They sank back over the cage exhausted

‘That’s the fucking best shag I have ever had.’ Jake shouted.

‘You won’t get better than me.’

‘Here’s a towel, wipe yourself off and get that prick of yours back in your bleachers. I’ll zip up your rear. You’ll soon have a nice damp patch of my cum oozing out that crack of yours and everyone will know who done it. I’m taking you to the skin club to meet the lads but you keep that collar on for now. I want them all to know that you are mine and I ain’t sharing you out. They’ll all want a bit of that cock so get ready to be touched up but its only me that gets to use your arse.’

‘I don’t want anyone else. I am yours and only yours and I am a skin at last. No longer a dream thanks to you and the real thing. A skin and your skin.’

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aquamarixx · 6 days ago

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breaking the internet

chapter seven Hiori and Miss Journalist share more than just a passionate night, opening up about their relationship and the uncertain future that lies ahead. blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains slow slow slow burn, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader, suggestive nsfw masterlist

After the heated confrontation on the JFA party balcony, the two of you decided to run into the night.

The music and laughter echoed behind as you navigated through the crowd on the dance floor, weaving past a sea of bodies. Like mischievous teenagers sneaking away, you let Hiori sweep you away, his hand clasping yours tightly as both of you shared hushed giggles on your way out.

Your heart races, feeling the adrenaline course through your veins. But you know it’s not just from running but from the familiar excitement between you both.

A cab ride later, you arrive at Hiori’s apartment. The complex sat in a quiet neighborhood, far removed from the relentless chaos of the city. As the elevator hums upward, Hiori’s touch grows bolder. His lips find yours, his hands exploring you with an eagerness that leaves you wanting more.

By the time you reach his door, you’re tangled in each other, his kisses fervent, his hand cradling the back of your head while he fumbles with his keys.

“Maybe we should get inside first,” you murmur between kisses, barely managing the words.

“Nah, I like it this way,” he replies with a grin against your lips, his hand sliding to the small of your back to pull you closer.

When the door finally opens, the two of you stumble inside, breaking apart only long enough for him to catch your hand. He leads you further in, fingers intertwined.

Hiori’s apartment was modest but inviting. The living room is tidy, the furniture simple. Beneath a large TV, a PS5 sat neatly in its place, its controllers perfectly arranged. Everything else spoke of practicality rather than extravagance.

You couldn’t help but think of other athletes his age, often swept up in the luxury their careers afford them. Big houses in exclusive neighborhoods. Sleek sports cars. Designer furniture. Wardrobes filled with high-end brands. Nights spent clubbing, jet-setting, and entertaining an ever-rotating cast of partners.

But Hiori’s different. Even before stepping into his home, you’ve sensed it in the way he carries himself. And it even bleeds into his home. Simple, thoughtful choices define his home, save for the pockets of indulgence: the gaming setup and a few shelves lined with football memorabilia.

“Make yerself at home. I’ll grab ya some water,” Hiori calls out, disappearing into the kitchen.

You wander towards the balcony, drawn by the expansive window that frames the city skyline. Sliding the glass door open, you step outside, the cool night air wrapping around you. The city stretches before you, vibrant and alive, but softened by distance. Above it all, the moon hung luminous, bathing the world in silver light.

You can’t help but pull out your phone to capture the moment. The city below felt worlds away, a far cry from the relentless energy of your own apartment (that you share with a college friend), where even behind closed doors, the unsleeping city’s energy seems to reach and breathe life into.

But here, in Hiori’s quiet home, you feel safe from the usual chaos you live in every day.

“The moon’s real pretty tonight, don’tcha think?” Hiori’s voice breaks the quiet as he joins you on the balcony, a glass of water in hand. His gaze isn’t on the city or the moon—it’s on you.

He reaches for a stray strand of your hair, absently twisting it between his fingers.

“It is,” you reply softly, eyes on the horizon. “It’s... breathtaking.”

To him, though, it wasn’t the moon or the view that captivates him. It’s you.

The moonlight softens your features, erasing the tension he knows you carry. He never understood when books and movies talk about being completely stunned by someone’s beauty. He never did.

But somehow, you basking under the moonlight got his heart pounding, he swore it would leap out of his chest.

In that moment, you look at peace, and he wants nothing more than to etch this image of you into his memory.

You finally face him and when you reach for the water, he smirks and pulls it away. Raising the glass to his lips, he takes a sip but doesn't swallow. Instead, his free hand slides to the nape of your neck, pulling you into a kiss.

Caught off guard, you felt the cold rush of water spill into your mouth. You gulp instinctively, then gasp when he pulls back, a boyish grin lighting up his face.

“What was that?” you ask, half-laughing, half-stunned.

“Just somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to try.” he shrugs, brushing a stray droplet from your lips with his thumb.

The two of you go back inside and you finish drinking the remaining water in the glass. After placing the now-empty glass on the coffee table, Hiori catches your hand again, this time pressing soft kisses along your fingers, your palm, your wrist. Each touch grows hungrier and draws you closer to him, pulling you toward his open bedroom door.

Compared to the simple living room, Hiori’s bedroom offers a more vivid glimpse into who he is. It’s still nothing fancy but the first thing you notice is the sleek, high-end PC setup in the corner. The multi-screen rig and glowing keyboard look like something out of a tech enthusiast’s dream. You can’t help but wonder how many months of your salary you’d need to build something even half as impressive.

The soft glow from his wide-screen monitors lights up the room. Its screensaver displays a scene from a game you don’t recognize. Posters and shelves line the walls, filled with a mix of manga, books, and meticulously arranged character figures. Your gaze lingers on a strikingly detailed 2B and 9S pair. When you look closer, you spot a familiar keychain.

It’s a small 2B that matches the 9S one he gave you before you guys stopped talking to each other.

“Ya can look around,” Hiori says, his voice low and amused. He sits on the edge of his neatly made king-size bed, watching you with a mix of curiosity and an almost shy anticipation.

You wander towards his manga collection, fingers lightly brushing along the spines as you read through the titles. When you pause and open one, your eyebrows lift slightly. It’s a shoujosei title, and the mature, steamy panels on the page catch you off guard.

Hiori notices and shifts a little, a hint of nervousness creeping into his expression. He’s never felt this self-conscious before. Talking about his interests with you had always felt easy, but now, with you here in the flesh, seeing it all up close, he wonders:

Does she think it’s weird? Childish? Too much?

It’s not like he’s inexperienced. He’s dated before, even hooked up with others in the past. But he’s never brought anyone home. The thought of sharing this space with someone had always felt too personal.

And yet, after kissing you on the balcony, he knew he couldn’t stand the idea of anyone else bringing you home. The very memory of Reo asking you out sends a fresh wave of irritation through him.

“Hey,” Hiori calls, casually pulling his shirt off in one smooth motion. “Something caught yer eye?”

Startled, you snap the book shut and turn toward him. Warmth blooms across your face as your eyes land on the now half-naked midfielder, his lean, toned torso illuminated by the monitor’s soft light. He pats the space beside him, smirking slightly.

It’s one thing seeing him all sweaty and his jersey sticking into his body during games. But being up close, behind closed doors and seeing his toned torso got you holding your breath for no good reason.

You shrug off his cardigan and drape it over his gaming chair before walking towards him.

“You’ve got some impressive collections,” you say, attempting to sound casual. “I’m kind of jealous.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Ya don’t think it’s childish?”

Hiori’s hand finds yours, and before you can answer, he gently tugs you onto his lap.

“I—uh… no,” you manage, a little flustered. “It’s very… you. But I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who reads shoujosei. Especially the, um, adult-rated ones.”

You shift slightly, unsure of your own weight, but Hiori’s hands steady you. His grip is firm, and his thumbs trace slow circles on your hips through the fabric of your trousers.

“Well,” he says, his tone light and teasing, “What can I say? M’just a cultured kinda guy.”

Your arms wrap around Hiori’s neck, pulling him closer as his hands find your waist. His touch is firm yet hesitant, as though he's afraid to push too far.

Before you can process it, you tug your top over your head and toss it aside. In one smooth motion, he flips you onto the mattress, his body hovering over yours. The mattress sinks beneath your weight as he moves to unbutton your trousers, sliding them off and leaving you in nothing but a matching set of black lingerie. His gaze lingers, taking in the sight of you in nothing but your underwear.

Hiori stands briefly to shimmy out of his pants, leaving only his boxers. He kisses you again and it deepens even further, growing even more bolder. His lips trails down from your mouth to your jawline, then your neck, where he pauses to draw in a deep, shaky breath.

Every touch is deliberate. Firm yet reverent. Like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you beneath his fingers. But at the same time, there’s a certain hunger in his touches that feels restrained, as if he’s holding back. And you feel it too. The tension, the longing.

When his hands slide over your thighs, you instinctively move to cover them, a wave of insecurity about your stretch marks hitting you. But before you can, Hiori gently moves your hands away, leaning down to press soft kisses against the marks. There's a certain tenderness to it that makes your heart ache.

“Yer beautiful,” he murmurs to you, peppering your thighs with light kisses.

His words send a warmth flooding through you, and your heart races. But as his fingers hook around the strap of your bra, he pauses. His forehead rests against yours as he exhales heavily, his breath hot against your skin.

“I don’t want this to be just physical,” he says softly, his voice trembling slightly. “I don’t want ya thinkin’ this is just for tonight.”

You blink up at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. He looks away, as if afraid of what he might see in your eyes.

You cup his face, gently guiding him back to meet your gaze. “I don’t think that,” you whisper. “And if we’re not ready for this, it’s okay. I’m just happy to be here with you.”

A small, relieved smile plays on his lips. You both chuckle at how awkward and intense things have become, and he pulls you upright so you can lean on his chest.

He exhales, his shoulders relaxing as though a weight has been lifted. Then he begins to talk.

“I’ve never been uninterested in romance,” he admits, his gaze shifting to the window, where the faint glow of moonlight seeps in.

“It’s just… no one’s ever made me feel like it was worth the effort. I liked the quiet and peace of being on my own. Maybe I’ve even convinced myself that I didn’t need anyone. Easier that way.”

You stay silent, your heart tightening as he continues.

“Maybe it’s because of my parents,” he confesses, his voice dipping with a hint of bitterness.

“They’re both Olympic athletes. Together, they’re the perfect story on the outside: power couple, world-class achievers, everything you’d think people dream about. But growing up, I realized their love wasn’t the kind of love that brought happiness. It was convenience.”

He briefly pauses, remembering that night when he found his parents shouting at each other for not doing better to make him the best. His heart twists at the memory of falling down the stairs, the sharp sting of pain in his knee as he fell.

He hadn’t meant to overhear them arguing, but their raised voices were impossible to ignore.

"He’s slacking because you’re too soft on him!" his father had yelled.

"And you’re too harsh! No wonder he looks miserable every day!"

Hiori had stood frozen outside their door, his small hands trembling. He thought playing soccer made them happy, that it brought them closer as a family. But that night, the illusion broke.

"I still remember the exact words," Hiori murmurs, half to himself. "'We can’t waste his potential. He has to be the best.'" He looks away, his jaw tightening.

"I realized that night," Hiori says softly, his voice laced with quiet bitterness, "their love wasn’t real. It was convenient. They stayed together because I was their project—not their son. Not for each other, either. Just… to protect their legacy."

He pauses, the weight of it all settling over him again. What if love really is just a transaction? A compromise? The thought had scared him then, and it still did now.

"I kept playing soccer after that," Hiori continues, his voice steadying.

"Not ‘cause I loved it, but ‘cause I thought it’d keep the family together. That maybe it’d be enough to stop the cracks from showin’. But it never was." He swallows hard, his gaze clouding.

“Soccer stopped being mine. It became theirs. A chore I did for people I didn’t even love anymore.”

His words hang in the air like a confession he’s been holding for years. He hesitates, looking back at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“That’s why I’ve always kept people at a distance, even when I tried dating. I just… couldn’t care. I felt detached. Until ya.” His voice softens, but the rawness remains.

“Yer different," he says, his voice low but full of emotion.

"Ya made me wanna know everythin’ about ya. Made me wanna be bothered, be interrupted. I… want ya to look at me. Not anyone else. Just me. I want ya."

For Hiori, this moment feels surreal. It’s been so long since he’s let himself get close to anyone like this. Not just because he’s unwilling, but also because his life as an athlete has left little room for romance.

Between grueling schedules and the endless pursuit of perfection, there was no space for vulnerability—or so he thought.

And then you happened.

You walked into his life and unraveled his carefully constructed walls without even trying. Now, with you here, wrapped in his arms, the raw intimacy feels new, almost overwhelming. He hadn’t realized how much he craved this until now.

“I didn’t know how much I wanted it until I thought I might lose ya.”

He pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face as he searches your eyes. “Ya scare me,” he admits. “Ya make me feel things I don’t know how to handle.”

The depth of his words stuns you, leaving your chest heavy with emotions you can barely name. Without thinking, you sit up and you lean into him and pull him into a fierce hug. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“You scare me too,” you confess, your voice trembling.

“You’re the only one I see. Always have been. I meant every word I said earlier. And I’ll say it a thousand more times if you need me to.”

You pull back slightly, your hands cupping his face as you meet his gaze.

“You’re… unreachable, Hiori. And I can’t even begin to understand what you see in me.”

“It’s hard to explain,” you continue, your own voice faltering under the weight of your honesty.

“You leave me speechless, and yet I could talk about you forever. Getting to know you these past months—through games, through work—it’s felt unreal, like something out of a movie. And that scares me because liking someone like you feels impossible for someone like me.”

His brows furrow, and you see the protest forming on his lips, but you press a gentle kiss there before he can speak.

Hiori reaches up, his hands covering yours as they rest against his cheeks. His eyes meet yours, a flicker of hesitation before he speaks, his voice quieter now but no less steady.

“You don’t have to wonder,” he murmurs. “About what I see in you. All I know is ya make it feel like it’s worth a try. I don’t have all the answers, but… I know I want to try. With ya.”

His words land softly. You don’t respond right away, the air between you thick with unspoken fears and hopes.

Finally, you nod, your lips curving into a small, uncertain smile. “I don’t know if I’m good at this,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I want to try too. With you.”

A small, almost incredulous laugh escapes him, and you feel the tension in his shoulders ease as his hands slide down to rest on your waist. “That’s good enough fer me,” he says softly, the corners of his mouth lifting into a genuine smile.

You both sit there, holding each other, the quiet between you no longer heavy but comforting. The weight of expectations, doubts, and past fears seems to lighten, even if just a little. It’s not perfect—there’s no dramatic declaration, no grand resolution—but it feels real.

And that’s more than either of you had dared to hope for.

The soft rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, painting the room in a warm, golden glow. You stir, body stretching lazily before realizing Hiori is still sound asleep beside you.

Tangled together, your leg drapes over his, he cradles you against his chest. Peaking thru your lidded eyes, you see his features softened in a rare moment of peace. The sight tugs at her heart, but a glance at the clock reveals it's almost noon.

It’s noon. Shit. You find your phone under the pillow and check your messages. There’s one from your roommate, who’s worried you didn’t come home. Both of you share a GPS tracker on your phones to ensure each other’s safety.

miko: WOMAN I SWEAR TO GOD IF U DONT REPLY I WILL CALL POLICE WHEN IT HITS 24HRS

miko: IS THIS WHERE UR BODY IS BURIED?!

[image attachment]

Attached is a screenshot of your geolocation on the app, your avatar image zoomed in.

miko: if u hooked up with a guy, do a sister a favor and tell me in advance!

miko: also, i want all the details when u get home. stay safe! xoxo

You laugh breathlessly, trying to slip out of Hiori’s arms without waking him. Stealthily, you slide out of bed. You’re still in your underwear, so you decide to grab Hiori’s shirt from the floor and wear it in the meantime.

At this point, you’re already contemplating going home, but you don’t want to leave him so abruptly. Closing the bedroom door behind you, you head to the apartment’s kitchen. Maybe you can cook brunch and eat together before heading home.

The fridge is surprisingly well-stocked. There are eggs, beef, chicken, vegetables, and fruits. The cupboard is filled with cup noodles, chips, and snacks. You decide on a simple but hearty brunch—pancakes, scrambled eggs, and fresh fruit.

The rhythmic sizzle of the stove fills the apartment, and the aroma wafts into the bedroom. Hiori stirs awake, his hand instinctively reaching for the space beside him—empty.

She’s gone.

Panic rises in his chest as his eyes snap open, heart pounding. Memories of last night flood back, and he bolts upright, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He hurriedly gets up and stumbles into the hallway, his heart racing.

Then, he sees you in the kitchen, wearing his shirt and humming softly as you tidy up the countertops. You’re on your phone, replying to your roommate to inform her that you are indeed alive and kicking. The tension in his body melts instantly, especially when you pout for the camera and snap a quick selfie to send to your roommate as "proof of life," as you call it.

You take the plates and notice him looking a bit dazed.

“You’re up,” you greet him with a smile. “I hope you don’t mind me raiding your kitchen.”

Relief washes over his face, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “Ya scared me. I thought ya left.”

You tilt your head, your expression softening. “Why would I just leave?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he walks over to stand beside you, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he absentmindedly tugs at the hem of the shirt you’re wearing.

“It smells good,” he murmurs, his voice warm against the shell of your ear as he takes a plate from your hands.

You and Hiori sit at the small dining table. Hiori has done the liberty of putting on some sweatpants and a shirt.

Thank God, or he might’ve been my breakfast, you think.

He takes a bite of the pancakes, his expression shifting into one of pleasant surprise.

“This is really good,” he says between bites.

You grin. “Not bad for someone who usually orders takeout, huh?”

You pop a piece of sliced apple into your mouth, watching him while sneaking a quick peek at your phone when it vibrates with a message from your roommate.

Hiori leans back, his eyes lingering on you. “Stay a little longer.” His voice softens, hesitant.

“You don’t have to go home immediately. I just... I don’t want ya feelin’ like ya hafta rush off.”

You smile, your chest tightening with a mix of surprise and affection. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

After brunch, you decide to take a shower. Hiori lends you a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a loose shirt. The clothes are oversized, practically swallowing your frame, and Hiori can’t help but smile at how cute you look in his clothes.

Once you're done, he takes his turn in the shower, emerging moments later in similar attire—black sweatpants, but he opts for a black hoodie instead.

When he steps into the living room, he finds you on the floor, flipping through old photo albums and yearbooks that he must’ve taken from his home. It’s been years since he’s touched them. You’re currently looking at photos and clippings from his Blue Lock days.

He sits beside you and starts walking you through the memories. There’s one photo of the Blue Lock team celebrating after their victory against the U20 team. Isagi’s arm is slung over his shoulder, pulling him close as they all smile together.

Another photo shows the Bastard Munchen team at the start of the Neo Egoist League. The group is stiff, awkward, but undeniably cute—especially the younger Noel Noa standing in the middle of a group of teenage boys. You spot Hiori between Isagi and Ness, wearing the same jersey, his face deadpan as ever. The boyish energy surrounding him makes it just so endearing.

As Hiori recalls some fun stories behind the photos, you snap pictures of them. When he asks why, you casually answer, “For my personal photo album collection.”

While Hiori fires up the PS5, your eyes catch a familiar cutout. It’s the clipping of the article you first wrote about Bastard Munchen earlier this season. The sight of it brings a nostalgia, and you pause for a moment, letting the emotion wash over you before carefully closing the album.

You both settle onto the couch, deciding to play Overcooked 2. It was meant to be a chill game (Hiori’s words, not yours) but your competitive streak kicks in, and suddenly you’re both obsessed with earning three stars on every level without missing a single order.

It’s chaotic and hilarious. Hiori doubles over with laughter, teasing you for taking it so seriously. But your energy is infectious, and soon, he’s caught up in the challenge as well. For a while, everything else fades away—the world outside no longer matters. It’s just the two of you, working in sync, caught up in the frantic fun of the game.

Then, a sudden realization dawns on Hiori. One night, the two of you were just casually playing online together, and now—here you are, comfortably (and fiercely) competing in his apartment, with nothing more than each other’s company to keep the world at bay.

The game is in full swing when a notification pings on the screen, briefly interrupting the action.

“What was that?” you ask, eyes flicking to Hiori.

A stream of messages floods the tv.

isagoat: hiori where d heck r u isagoat: check ur phone kyuuurona: check gc now!!! jintan: whos the girl raichinumbahwan: damn everyones panicking abt u rn and ur playing overcooked?!

Hiori picks up his phone, his brow furrowing as he scrolls through a deluge of messages in the Bastard München group chat.

Ness: look what i found /Hiori Ness: [image attachment link] Isagi: So this is why you were gone immediately? Igarashi: You were supposed to be my wingman last night /Hiori 🙁 Gesner: damn hiori has more rizz than raichi wwwww Kurona: [chiitan bonk gif]

Hiori clicks on the link from Ness, and you can’t help but peek over his shoulder. The screen loads a gossip article with a headline that's as bold as it is damning:

THE MOST ELUSIVE BASTARD MÜNCHEN MIDFIELDER CAUGHT KISSING A MYSTERY WOMAN AT THE JFA PARTY—AND LEAVING TOGETHER IN THE MIDDLE OF THE EVENT!

The accompanying photo is blurry, but unmistakable.

It’s you and Hiori, his navy-blue cardigan shielding most of you from view as he cradles your face, kissing you.

Your face pales. “Oh god…” You immediately cover your mouth, mortified.

Hiori groans, running a hand through his hair. “I knew someone’d see us. Shoulda been more careful.”

The two of you sit in stunned silence, staring at his phone as the comments continue to flood in beneath the gossip article. Some are playful, others more speculative:

Is the new girl a celebrity? Is she someone from JFA? Hiori Yo a womanizer?! Is Miss Journalist out of the picture? HioRizz caught on 4K Edited, that’s not Hiori lolol Does anyone else think she’s kinda familiar? Like I’ve seen her somewhere before. Hiori going public with a girl? Wild. Who’s next, Niko Ikki?

You scroll through them, a tinge of panic rising in your chest. The sudden spotlight is definitely not what you need right now. You don’t want to cause any trouble for Hiori—or yourself.

Especially not for him, since he’s already a public figure. Someone who’s been fiercely private about his personal life.

You glance up at him, worry etched on your face. “Hiori, this could cause problems for you, right?”

He meets your gaze, unwavering. “I don’t care what they say ‘bout me. M’more worried ‘bout ya. Are ya okay with this?”

“As long as you’re okay, I’ll be fine,” you reply, nodding more to reassure yourself than him.

Hiori notices the subtle shift in your expression, and without a second thought, he places his hand over yours.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, squeezing your hand gently. “We knew this could happen. Not this soon, but... I won’t let it get worse.I won’t say anythin’ about us till yer ready.”

You look up at him. “But what if they don’t leave you alone? What if they keep bothering you? I don’t want to cause you any problems this early on.”

The tension in the room begins to ease as the two of you talk through the complexities of the situation. Hiori leans back, propping his feet up on the coffee table, his fingers running through his hair in thought.

“We can’t ignore it,” he admits, his voice firm but calm. “Our lives are too connected, professionally and personally. The media will be watching, and people will wanna know more. But I don’t want that to dictate us, either.”

You nod, the weight of the situation sinking in. “It’s hard, though. I mean, we’re both in the public eye. You with your career, and me with mine. If this becomes a story, my job could get involved too.”

“I don’t want to put you on the spot, or make you uncomfortable, or—”

“Hey, hey.” He cuts you off, meeting your gaze. “Ya don’t hafta worry ‘bout me too much, alright?” His fingers intertwine with yours.

“But you—”

“It’s not just me in this. It’s both of us. So lemme worry ‘bout ya too, ‘kay?” He leans in and kisses you softly on the lips.

“We’ll figure it out together,” he assures you. “We don’t hafta let them dictate how we handle this. Not until we’re ready.”

You look at him, your heart swelling with appreciation for his honesty, his understanding. “We can keep it private for now, right?”

“For as long as ya need,” he says, his eyes soft with affection. “Let’s just focus on what we have. No distractions.”

The conversation lingers in the air, but Hiori gently pulls you into a quiet, comforting silence. After a few moments, he leans in, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead.

“This isn’t something we have to solve today,” he murmurs, his voice steady, calm. “Whatever happens tomorrow, we’ll deal with it. But right now, we’re here.”

You smile up at him, the warmth of his words melting the uncertainty that had been growing inside you. “And that’s enough, right?”

“Yeah,” he says with a gentle grin. “That’s enough.”

Hiori holds you close, his arms wrapping around you, and the noise of the outside world fades into nothingness. The article, the comments, the chaos—they’re all just background noise in your little bubble, and for the moment, that’s all that matters.

amari's notes: this is my fave chapter so far! i was originally making this a smut chapter (but i suck at writing one) and it didn't felt right for some reason with the both of them. but nevertheless, this one is really close to my heart, i love hiori and miss journalist's dynamic so much huhu anw, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask. i'll greatly appreciate it! Hope you all enjoy this chapter! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ (if you wanna join the taglist, just comment or send me a message!)

taglist: @inu1gf

#blue lock #hiori yo #blue lock x reader #hiori yo x reader #bllk hiori yo #bllk x reader

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lasciviouspoison · 1 year ago

Text

omg! my boyfriend is a big sexy boxer!

oh em gee, happy kinktobaaaaaa!!!!!! lmfao, here’s a small gift from me :)

i got kinda carried away with this plot line, lol. tw: tojixchubby!reader, boxer!toji, implied black/poc!reader, implied age gap (reader in early 20s, toji late 20s/early 30s), afab reader, oral sex (f receiving), pussydrunk!toji, cockdrunk!reader, hints of self insert (sorry :/ ) and anything else i might’ve forgotten! love ya, mwah!

~~~

toji fushiguro was one of the best heavyweight boxers of the current day. he was agile, extremely strong, and never lacked in stamina. he was a staggering 6’3 and was over 250 pounds of pure muscle. littered in tattoos from head to toe, toji was a force to be reckoned with.

not to mention, he was hot as fuck. almost every hour on the hour, there was someone on the internet raving about how sexy he was. he had literally gotten invited to read dirty tweets not once, but twice because of the general influx of them.

however, no one other than those closest to toji knew about you.

you, the pretty journalist who he had seen at his first press release for the upcoming fight. he was taken aback by your casualness. while the majority your peers wore ugly suits and skirts, you were simply dressed in baggy jeans and a t-shirt. your curly hair was down, slightly touching your shoulder blades and he could see the tattoos you had up your arm and neck.

toji’s mouth watered at the sight of you. he couldn’t wait for the moment in which you raised your hand to ask him a question out of those pretty pouty lips.

after the release, he made it a point to ask his manager, shiu, to call you into the back for an “exclusive interview” with the most successful fighter on the block.

and by interview, i mean toji asked you for your number and you, albeit anxiously, agreed.

and four months later, he’s been stuck to you like glue. he’s taken you on so many dates, he always pops in to see you whenever he has the time after training, and he just recently popped the question, asking you to officially be his partner.

however, toji also does the best he can to not prematurely intertwine his life with yours.

you were still a college student, finally making your way to the end of your junior year. your life was slow and steady, yet exciting. you had a few great friends who supported you through everything, yet, they still knew nothing about your little rendezvous with toji.

meanwhile, everything was about to change at toji’s most recent weigh-in. after his opponent and himself stepped on the scale, the promoters decided it would be a good idea to bring the two back out and open the floor for questions.

of course you were in the crowd, not only to support your man, which felt amazing to finally say, but to watch and learn from your mentor. however, to everyone’s surprise, toji’s opponent had an announcement to make before the questions began.

he stood up and gave the crowd and smile before pointing directly at you, “everyone see that beautiful lady right there? i’m gonna beat the shit outta this man over here and take her home with me afterwards. ya like the sound of that sweetheart?”

toji’s eyes immediately found yours and once he seen them begin to gloss over, he couldn’t help but find himself running out of his chair, attempting to prematurely pummel his opponent. while both security teams tried to hold him back, you were being escorted out of the area and into the back rooms.

shortly after, your face was all over media outlets as they attempted to figure out who you were and your association to toji.

which brings us to now.

“baby please, talk to me. m’beggin here”. toji’s been standing outside of his master bathroom for a total of 20 minutes attempting to get you to at least calm down. you had been crying since the weigh-in, refusing to see him. the only reason you were here was because shiu redirected your driver back to toji’s home without your knowledge.

“go away! go get ready for your fight and leave me alone!” you could admit you sounded childish, but you didn’t care. it was one thing to be publicly embarrassed like that, but to now have the whole world know that you were somehow connected to toji was awful. you wanted to do that on your own terms, especially since the two of you are just barely reaching the “official” stage in your relationship.

toji grabbed the locked door knob and twisted, “yn please just come out and talk to me. lemme help you, baby, please.” while toji prided himself on never begging for anything, you were an exception to the rule.

suddenly the door swung open and he was met with your puffy red eyes and lips. despite knowing the weight of the situation, he couldn’t help but feel his dick twitch upon seeing how beautiful you looked after crying. he’d be sure to tell you that later.

“there’s nothing you can do. everyone’s gonna figure out i’m your girlfriend and my life is gonna be turned upside down”. you could feel your throat begin to constrict once again. all you wanted was to crawl into a hole and never come back up.

toji stroked your hair and brought you to his chest, “i can’t make that go away baby, and i’m sorry. but what i can do is try to make this as seamless as possible for you. things don’t have to change overnight, we can still go slow”.

he could feel you shake your head, “it’s not gonna work like that toji, you and i both know that. my fucking mom has already called me to ask about us and i don’t know what to tell her.”

toji cocked his head to the side and scrunched his brows, “tell her we’re together?”

you pushed him back and little and laughed, “oh my god toji, are you fucking dense? you’re missing the point.”

he wanted to kick himself for being so careless. obviously toji knew that the situation ran deeper than the two of you simply dating. but, he at least figured that you wouldn’t be scared to tell your mom.

alas, he was wrong.

toji took a deep breath, “don’t cuss at me when i haven’t cussed at you. i’m trying to help and you’re throwing a tantrum. the situation isn’t fair to either of us yn, and we both know it.”

you gave him one more good look before you took a step back into the bathroom and slammed the door in his face.

~~~

the fight was in 20 minutes and toji’s heart was pounding. his adrenaline was rushing throughout his body and all he could think of was your crying face and what that ugly fucker said to you earlier.

in every sense of the word, he was pissed.

he had left you back in the hands of your mentor, granting the two of you front row seats. although you could feel everyone’s eyes staring at the back of your head, you held your composure.

you could feel your mentor squeeze your hand, “i know it’s not my place, but don’t beat yourself up over what happened earlier yn, especially if you’re happy. if the two of you are together, just leave it at that. you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone, i promise.”

you reached over and gave her a hug, letting yourself finally feel the embrace of someone who cared about you. however, the sweet moment was interrupted when the announcer came out to introduce toji’s opponent.

you felt like a fish being gutted while watching him walk down the isle. his entourage behind him, making him look even weaker than he was. and the most disgusting part was him catching your eye after bouncing around the stage and winking.

toji swore he was gonna kill him. he was gonna rip his gloves off with his teeth and jam his thumbs into his eyes. taunting him was different, it was part of the sport. but making a show out of his lady was something that toji was gonna lay his ass out for.

everyone watched as the announcer made his way back into the middle of the ring and grabbed the microphone to speak once more, “ladies and gentleman! please give it up for your reigning heavyweight champion, toji fushiguro!”

the screams from the crowd jolted your body awake, firing your adrenaline on all cylinders. it was at this moment when you realized you were dating toji-fucking -fushiguro and you weren’t gonna let his scum of an opponent make you feel any less because of it.

when toji got to the ring, he removed his robe and only glared at his opponent. it was scarier than seeing him move around with the crowd because to the three of you, this was way more than a fight.

you don’t know what caused you to do it, but you walked up to the ring and called out his name. he started to squat down to speak to you, but instead watched you climbed inside to stand before him. he could see that you had your hands bawled up beside your hips and he laughed a little.

you looked at his opponent and back at him. finally, you slung your arm around him and pulled him in to where only he could hear you, “put his ass to sleep for me toji” and with a kiss to his cheek, you made your descent out of the ring.

suddenly toji was ablaze. in an instant, he transformed from his regular, stern self to the fighter, entertainer, and winner. everyone that could see him on the Jumbotron and television could see that whatever you had said to him was gonna determine the fate of this match.

~~~

2 rounds, 4 minutes and 29 seconds was all it took for toji to lay his opponent out flat. he didn’t need confirmation from the referee before he spit out his mouth guard and roared at the crowd. he could see you standing there in awe at him and it was the cutest thing he had ever seen.

eventually, toji was allowed to say his peace before existing the ring and of course, the world waited at the edge of their seats for the update on what was seen earlier.

toji couldn’t even think straight when it came time for him to talk. the only thing on his mind was you. ynynynyn was all that kept replaying in his mind before he said this, “i want the entire fucking world to know that she’s my girl. she’s been mine since i first seen her and i wouldn’t want it any other way. baby, i love you.”

by this point, you were backstage with his team watching his commentary on a flatscreen. all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him, but that would have to wait a little longer.

finally, toji walked into the back room, fully changed out of his fighting clothes, and all but stalked his way to you. he embraced you so tightly, you felt like he could snap you in half.

you pulled away from him and and pecked his cheek, “you love me toji?”.

he shook his head, “since the day i met you.”

and while tears were beginning to well in your eyes, toji was throwing you over his shoulder and heading towards his car. with the shouts of his team behind him, the only thing on his mind was getting you home and fucking you till you cried.

he sped home in dangerous silence, alternating from his hand gently squeezing your thigh to slightly rubbing this thumb up as high as you’d allow.

he didn’t even bother to park correctly before he flung his door open. toji sprinted to your side and lifted you out. you could hear his heavy breathing as he traveled through his penthouse lobby and into the elevator.

he body caged you in and his breath fanned your nose. “don’t mean to be rough. hope i’m not scarin ya” he chuckled out.

“no baby. you’re not scaring me at all.” he was, in fact, doing the opposite. you were so turned on, you hoped it wasn’t leaking through your jeans.

toji gripped your face and kissed you roughly. it was much different from the small kisses you shared, but neither of you cared. before separating for air, he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled, groaning at the sight of how innocent you looked.

after the long awaited ding of the elevator, toji grabbed your arm and pulled you towards his door.

he slung you inside and tossed you over his shoulder, once again, as he led you to the bedroom.

he gently set you down on the bed and removed his black hoodie, exposing his tattooed body. you could still see how hard he was breathing and touched his stomach to try and call him down. yet even from that innocent little touch, he was all the more hard at the sight of you.

he wordlessly took off your shoes and stood up to kiss you again. you could feel him unbuckle your jeans and your hands made their way to his pants. he moved one hand to yours and removed them from his sweats, causing you to pull back from his mouth.

the confusion lacing your face was so cute, but he needed to take his time with you. “this ain’t about me sweet girl, g’nna take my time with you and this pretty body. ‘kay?”

without giving you a chance to respond, he finally pulled your pants off in one go, and kneeled between your legs. he brought his knuckle up to your pretty pink panties and nudged at the wet spot. he licked his lips slightly and kissed your thigh.

“gonna let me eat this pretty pussy baby, yeah? wanna feel my tongue don’cha?” he was softly moving your panties to the side and groaned at the sight. your fat pussy was so pretty. cunt so puffy and wet for him, he had to get a taste.

“please toji, just touch me” you whined and toji didn’t need to hear anything else. he pulled your panties fully off and lapped at your clit like a kitten while his fingers made way to your entrance. he pushed his fingers in and you all but screamed, one hand gripping his hair while the other interlocked with his.

toji could die in your cunt and not complain. this was his own personal heaven and he swore to kill the next person who even tried to look at you funny. “yer pussy’s so sweet baby. could eat it all night if ya let me.”

he latched back onto your clit and sucked hard. his middle finger was hitting that spot you could never reach yourself and you felt euphoric. your thick thighs twitched on either side of his head, but toji didn’t care. his only focus was getting you to cum on his tongue.

he could hear your whimpers get louder and your cunt clench against his finger. he knew you were close and didn’t wanna waste anymore time.

“cum for me sweet girl. wanna taste it mama please.”

and you came, hard. your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you were gripping the covers so tightly you swore you’d put holes into it. toji was desperately trying to keep your legs open so he could continue to ravage your cunt, but he eventually opted to rubbing your precious clit while looking at your face.

he loved the sight of you coming down from your high. you looked exactly how you did after you finished crying and toji could feel his dick get impossibly harder in his pants.

he swiped his thumb over your bottom lip causing your tongue to jut out and lick. you tilted your head up a bit and sucked his thumb into your mouth, being sure to release it with a pop.

“want you to fuck me toji. please fuck me. wanna feel it in me”, you all but whined out.

he looked at you starry eyed and placed his hand on your tummy. “you wanna feel me right here baby? want me deep in your little cunny, ain’t that right” he smiled and slapped your ass.

before you could respond, toji reached for your shirt and lifted it above your head. he watched you unclasp your bra and toss it across the room. it was the first time toji had seen your beautiful, chubby body and he couldn’t be more ecstatic. you were so beautiful and he was so happy he could publically call you his.

he slipped his sweats and boxers down in one go. he reached towards his nightstand and pulled out a condom. after ripping it open with his teeth, he rolled it on and positioned himself toward your entrance.

you backed away a bit and he gripped your leg, “don’t run from me. lemme have it”.

you shook your head slightly and looked up at him wide eyed, “s’not gonna fit”.

he laughed a little and leaned down toward your neck, “i’ll make it fit, pretty”. and began to push the tip in.

he was big like you expected, but he did a considerable amount of prep to make this pleasurable for you and him.

he could feel you claw at his back and his teeth grit together. he wanted to push all the way in and fuck you stupid, but he knew he needed to go slow. it was your first time with him and he wanted to make it as special as it could be.

after fully sheathing himself in your cunt, he let out a quick “fuck” before looking into your eyes.

those beautiful e/c eyes he loved looking into so much. so teary and full of pleasure, “want me to move?”

you let out a small yes and toji rocked his hips slightly. he gripped onto the headboard above your head and sped up a little, not wanting to overwhelm you.

eventually, those small, soft strokes weren’t doing enough for you, causing you to get restless. you pushed your hips towards him and whined, “fuck me harder toji!” and that was all it took for him to fuck you like a mad man.

his hand left the headboard and pushed your thighs wider. the weight of toji on your body mixed with his heavy thrusts almost knocked the wind out of you. you were moaning and whimpering and toji loved the sight.

at some point, toji grabbed your leg and angled your anklet clad foot towards his head. he kissed your ankle before smiling down at you, which caused your pussy to gush around his cock.

he could feel your cunt start to pulsate again, all the while toji was reaching his limit too. he wanted you to cum with him, even if he had to withhold his orgasm a bit longer.

he started thumbing your clit while his body pushed your lifted leg further back, allowing him to hit a new spot within your gummy walls. you could feel the slight curve in his dick and it was driving you insane.

you looked up at him and he began to speak. “want you to cum with me baby. can you do that f’r me?”

you shook your head yes embarrassingly fast and toji rubbed your pussy just a tad bit faster.

you moaned and grabbed toji’s shoulders, “‘m gonna cum toji. i’m gonna cum. oh my god ‘m cummin- oh!” toji felt your release on his abdomen and with a loud groan, he released shortly after you.

he let you grind on his cock while you rode out your shared orgasm. he felt like he had died and went to heaven because of your pussy, and slowly but surely, he came down to witness you still twitching and shaking.

he rubbed your face gently and spoke softly, “c’mon baby. come back to me” he repeated his words until you finally let out a deep breath and weakly smiled.

he pulled out of you with a hiss and tied off the condom before disposing of it. he lifted you out of the bed and brought you to the bathroom before running you a nice warm bath. he filled the tub with bubbles and set you in gently before going to clean up the mess you two had made.

once toji came back, he washed you, lotioned you up and dressed you in a big shirt of his and boxers.

as he finally laid you down to sleep, you felt him kiss your forehead. while you knew things would never go back to the way they were, it didn’t matter because now the world knew that toji was, and always will be, yours.

#toji x black y/n #daddy toji #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro #toji x chubby reader #toji x black reader #toji smut #help! my pussy’s gone crazy!!!!

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rafaslittleboy · 7 months ago

Text

PROWL

pairing: dad!sonny carisi x reader

summary: your mom and dad argue all the time, and with a little bit of digging, you learn it’s because your dad isn’t being satisfied.

tags: incest, father/child incest, DONT READ IF U DONT LIKE, reader is early twenties so LEGAL AGE, smut, p-in-v sex, clit rubbing, slight fingering, selfish sex (but you like it). Reader has no specified gender but has pussy/clit. Office sex, kissing, your dad and mom don’t get along.

special thanks for @noellawrites for helping me greatly with this fic ❤️

smut below the cut, minors don’t interact & don’t interact if you’re sensitive and don’t like these sort of fics.

The first thing you heard as you entered the apartment was yelling. Your mom scoffing and dishing out a mouthful of verbal assaults on your dad. When you unlocked the door and stepped in, their argument hushed and then as you walked into the open-plan kitchen, the argument ceased to exist. As if it never happened in the first place.

“Is… everything okay?” and you were met with mutual silence. “Dad?

“It’s nothin’.” Dominick replied curtly and turned on the coffee maker. “How was work?” he asked, quick to change the subject.

You could tell when your father was annoyed—nearing angry, he would clench his jaw and the muscles in his arms (which showed under his shirt, rolled up to the elbow). He always tried to not show you when he was in a mood that wasn’t happy, but he was only human. Your mother, on the other hand, was always in a negative mood—nothing was ever good enough for her.

You sighed and put down your backpack and took a seat on a stool at the island. “It was whatever, I hate working nights.”

Sonny turned to you with a fresh mug of caramel flavoured coffee in his large hands. In exchange, you handed him a paper bag containing a pastry that he tended to eat most mornings. Whether you brought one back or he visited you before he got to the courthouse to start his treacherous day.

“Aw, kid, ya didn’t have to.” He always says that, kissing you on the cheek as he takes it from your hands. Your cheeks grew warm. “Thank you, this’ll definitely keep me goin’—really made my mornin’.” and your dad smiled wide at you, the sides of his eyes crinkling.

Your stomach flipped.

Your mom was silent still, angrily making breakfast. Her movements were enough to show you that she was in a mood, and that you should probably stay out of her way for the rest of the day.

Your dad came into your life when you were ten. Ten years after having a meant-nothing relationship with your mom and only when she was running low on money, she reached out and contacted your father for a little child support money. Sonny was shocked at first, finding out he had a kid, but after taking care of new-born Jesse and having his paternal instincts go haywire for a child that wasn’t his; it was like Christmas came early on a Wednesday evening in Spring.

Sonny asked for visitation and your mom agreed, and the first thing he did was look for two-bedroom apartments. Sonny worked overtime in the precinct just so he could afford the extra room, anything for his little angel. And as you grew, you preferred his apartment more and more. He came home late, but he would always enter your room and make sure you were breathing and safe, always leaving a kiss on your forehead.

Somehow within the last eleven years, your mom moved in with Sonny and it was like a nice little family. Sometimes your mom and dad acted as if they were together, sometimes they didn’t.

And as you entered your early twenties, he still did it. As he transitioned from Detective to Assistant District Attorney, he worked even more hours just to support your little family, your mom stopped working and it was up to your father to provide for all of you—so that’s why you took a stupid, underpaying twenty-four-hour internet cafè just to help out with bills.

—

Later on in the evening, you sat down next to your dad in the living room. Your mom was already asleep in their shared bedroom, likely lost in a wine-induced dream.

“What was the argument about? Today?”

“S’nothin’, don’t worry ‘bout it. Ain’t your problem.” And he leaned over to kiss you on your forehead, lingering just a few seconds longer.

“B-but— if it’s you and mom, it is my problem. I’m your kid, I’m the one tying you together,” you sigh miserably.

Sonny turns to look at you with a sad expression before cupping your cheek in his big hand. You were closer to your Dad than your mom, because of things like this; he cared so much about you and she showed it.

He examined the pleading look in your eyes, and he knew you wouldn’t drop the subject until you received a satisfactory answer.

“Your mom ‘n I�� we really try. I always do what she wants when she wants it, ‘ya know? But she uses me, n’ then when I want some, it’s like she don’t even wanna look at me—“ he sighed.

“Daddy— you don’t deserve that,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm, sleeves rolled up to his elbow. Your faces were so close, you were glad that the room was dimly lit just enough so your dad couldn’t see the warm blush rising up your cheeks.

“‘S okay, doll. I got you, you’re all I need,” he says with a smile, leaning over to kiss your forehead before getting up to go to his bedroom. You watched him as he walked off and turned to the bedroom he shared with your mom, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

—

You woke up early in the morning to the sound of hushed arguing. Their voices vibrated through the walls like before, and you found yourself closing your eyelids and taking a deep exhale.

It took a minute, you sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes and took a glance at your alarm clock on the bedside table—it was barely over seven in the morning and they were already at each other’s throats.

Your pajamas were a simple set, a cotton t-shirt that was a size or two up from your own size (that was most likely your father’s) and a pair of black cotton shorts; you’d gone to class in worse attire.

Hesitantly, you opened your bedroom door and took a second before you walked to the kitchen where their voices came from. As you entered, your mother turned away from your Dad and bit her tongue and silently and angrily making breakfast as your dad busied himself pouring coffee into his large travel mug.

“Is everything okay?” you asked. You were met from cold silence from your mom, which was the usual in most times. It took a second for your Dad to turn around and give you a tight lipped smile.

“Everythin’s fine, kiddo,” he said, “how’d you sleep?”

“Fine, I guess.” It was great until I was woken up by your constant arguing, you really wanted to say, but you held your tongue and decided to be polite—just like how he raised you to be. Always keep the negative thoughts to yourself.

“I gotta go to work,” he said curtly and kissed your forehead, as he always did.

“Can I come with you?” You asked as he rounded the island to pick up his dark red briefcase. “I dunno, dunno if SVU will need me to do some undercover stuff.”

“Undercover stuff,” your mom tutted and angrily whisked eggs in the pan. “You’re an ADA, you don’t go undercover.”

Sonny shared a glance with you before your mom started again, “there you go, talking about work. Is it because Olivia is there?”

Your mom, Amanda, couldn’t be anymore wrong.

Sonny turns and walks towards the door without saying a word, and you follow.

When you reach the door, you whisper, “can I come with you? Please?”

You knew that if you had your only day off and spent it in the apartment with your mom, she would start on you next—and you really didn’t want to do that.

Your dad takes one last glance at your mom and sighs, ushering you out the door beside him. “Sure, kid. C’mon.” And he ushered you to put on your sneakers and to take your jacket and backpack.

——-

When you reach the eighth floor, Sonny clears a stack of file folders off a spot on his couch for you, giving you a smile as he pats the seat.

“Dad, are you sure there isn’t anything I can do? I hate seeing you and mom arguing like this,” you sigh, bringing up your knees to rest your chin on, your arms wrapping around your calves.

“Baby,” Sonny smiles, “I appreciate your concern but it ain’t somethin’ you can help me with.”

You look at him as he takes a seat in his swivel-chair, and that feeling in your stomach returns. Butterflies, you remember your mom telling you when you were younger, that you’d get butterflies when you liked someone.

Bile rose in your throat with shame.

“You know, I can help with whatever it is. I’m… y’know, older. I’m not little anymore, I’m big.”

Sonny chuckled, smile lines reaching his eyes. “Oh yeah? You’re a big kid?”

“Yup,” you say defiantly, crossing your arms. You notice the twinkle of curiosity in his eye, curious at just how grown up you’ve really become.

“Maybe you’re right.” He smiles at you. In his eyes, you will always be his little angel. No matter how old you get.

Sonny took a second to think, and then he set down his pen. It was a present from Mr. Barba—you had met him when you were younger, often being plopped in his office when your mom wanted to go out for brunch with her friends and your dad worked as a Detective.

“Let me ask ya somethin’, kiddo. Father t’child.” He clears his throat, “N’ you don’t need’a answer, s’totally within your right not to.”

You looked at him, waiting for his question.

“You ever had sex before?”

It was a personal question. You had just turned the legal age to drink alcohol and you barely did that. Sex was something you had only ever done once, and it wasn’t as pleasant as some of the videos you’ve seen.

“Once,” you couldn’t meet his eyes. “It wasn’t good,” you tell him honestly.

“Yeah? Tell me ‘bout that.” And he flicked his file shut and leaned forward on his elbows on his desk. His attention was on you, fully.

“He just… touched me, really. And then he just put it in me and finished.” You put your hands on your bare knees out of nervousness.

“You didn’t… ?”

You shook your head, no. In all the videos you’ve seen, both participants orgasmed and they made it look so good, like it felt amazing. You told him about how it started, how he kissed you and put his hand down your pants and how it all felt so rushed, and when it came to the actual sex; all you had felt a discomfort as the guy who was on top of you pushed inside you and you felt pain, and it rarely felt good.

And your Dad scoffed. “Don’t let boys like that d’that to ya, ain’t right.”

“But I… “ you swallowed, “… maybe I could help you?”

Sonny frowned, confused. “Help me? What do you mean?”

“You could have sex with me.”

Your bold statement was enough to have his eyebrows jump to the top of his forehead, and his mouth hang open slightly in shock. He stood and rounded his desk, closing his open door and flicking the lock, then closing his blinds. “Doll, you can’t say that in the courthouse.”

“I’m sorry—“

“S’fine, just… I’m ya dad,” he started and leaned against the table before you. “Shouldn’t be thinkin’ ‘bout me like that, it’s not right.”

He shamed you into silence, and your skin flushed with embarrassment.

Never in his life did he ever think he would fuck you. Always so keen on raising you to be the smart, level-headed kid you could be. He spent his life’s work going to work to put men away doing exactly what he was about to do.

He put his head in his hands and rubbed his face. Then after a beat, he took his hands off his face and looked at you.

“Doll— I’m gonna help ya out too, okay? Make my lil’ angel feel good. Don’t want ya to be an inexperienced adult,” he says carefully, leaning off from his table and stepping towards you.

“Are you sure? I-I mean, you and mom are having problems and—“

“Stop talking ‘bout ya mom,” he says before capturing your lips in a mesmerizing kiss. Your lips tingle with the force of his lips on yours, his hand coming to cup the back of your head. You kissed him back when he didn’t pull back, and he licked into your mouth and your sigh came out along with a moan.

You felt him smile into the kiss. “Does kissin’ me feel good?”

You swallowed, your eyes shaky as you kept your eyes on your dad. He was so close to you, leaning over you and your lips still touching. “It… it’s better than my other kisses.”

Sonny cocked his head and his eyes glanced down to your black cotton shorts, biting his lip at the lewd thoughts running through his head. He allowed his fingers to trace the band of your shorts and inch them down just a bit. “‘M just more… experienced, that’s what ya need.”

“y—you?”

And that was exactly right. That’s what you needed. Your Daddy.

He kissed you again, but this time it was to take his time and to memorise your taste, to learn the sounds you made when something felt good—and you made these little high pitched sounds—squeaks—when he kissed you harder, pushing you against the back of the leather couch.

He broke the kiss temporarily to place both of his large hands on your hips. “Ain’t gonna make ya do somethin’ ya don’t want to, baby,”

Sonny knew the risks, even as lust clouded his brain. Engaging in incest in the courthouse with his own child was one risk, but ruining your relationship with him was another. He would hate to ruin things with his only child; to have to run back to Amanda and her fatherless children just to play ‘happy family’ again.

“I—I want it,” you whimpered, “I— I want to do… this with you.” and you meant it. Your feelings for your Dad had only grown so much more since he put his lips on yours and kissed you properly.

Sonny groaned and bit his lip, his cock swelling. “Say it again, baby.” his voice was low, enough to be a growl.

Your body shook with adrenaline and nervousness. You held your breath as his big, warm hands ghosted over your soft, smooth skin.

Your Dad slipped his fingertips into the band of your shorts and pulled down your little lounge shorts the rest of the way, pulling them over your sneakers and letting them drop to the floor. The only thing between you two was your flimsy underwear, and he could see a very clear wet spot dampening the fabric.

“Haven’t seen that in a while,” he said and the tip of his finger prodded the damp patch. He didn’t miss your gasp, how your hips jutted upwards in need and selfish want. If he had his way he would take his time. Sink to his knees, shove his mouth in your pussy and taste his little kiddo’s juices.

Your Dad saw your nervous expression, and it took him until only then to realise that this would be the first proper sex experience you would have (with your own father, at that, it’s probably making you feel under pressure to do good.)

“Hey… “ he cupped your burning cheek, “s’okay… d’you wanna see mine first? just t’make you feel better?”

You nodded carefully, soon enough leaning into the palm of his hand. He tapped your cheek before he took his hand and put it to his belt, undoing the buckle and pulling it through the hoops and letting it drop to the floor beside your cotton pyjama shorts. His long, deft fingers went to his fly and unzipped it, then he pulled out his cock out from inside his dress pants. Your eyes were glued to the large appendage and you swallowed your saliva in nervousness.

Sure, you had only seen one penis before, but it was tiny, shriveled— nothing like your dad’s long, curved cock. It was not hard enough to stay up, flaccid only just enough that it dangled between his thighs.

“You okay?” He asked, and you nodded again; “uh huh,” and you couldn’t find the strength to take your eyes off him.

His blue eyes bore into yours as his fingers nudged your underwear, a similar situation to his removal of your shorts.

“This okay, doll?” he asked. Once you began to nod, he slid your undies all the way down. The cool air of your dad’s office hit your sensitive little pussy and you shivered, earning a smile from your dad.

“Don’t worry, doll. S’cold, same thing happens to me,” he gestures, and you look down right at your own dad’s hard cock.

“Can—can I touch it?” You asked. It was hard to believe that you were made from that, that at one point just over twenty years ago, you had come out of him and it was just staring right back at you.

“Sure.” Sonny smiled, and he took your hand and helped you wrap your small fingers around him in a light grip. The sudden pressure alone was enough to make him grumble deep in his chest.

In the videos you had seen on the internet, you knew how to copy hand movements—so you moved your hand up and down his cock, slowly, testing the waters. You didn’t see it, but the man who made you; his head tipped backward at the feeling of your hand squeezing his cock.

“does it—does this feel good?”

“Kid, you got no fuckin’ idea.” He groans and he looks down at you, cock barely an inch away from your innocent face. “N’ expert,” he praises.

After a while, his need to be inside you grew by each passing second. Your pussy was bare on the leather, making a small clear puddle of your arousal on the worn leather of his couch.

“S’enough, baby.” and he took your hand off his hard cock, no longer any sort of flaccid, instead as hard as he’s been in years.

You moved yourself so you were leaning back, and he followed you and pulled your hips down—your legs and ass dangling off the couch and his arms supporting you. “Makin’ me fuckin’ crazy, baby, gonna fuck you deep right here.”

You let out a breathy laugh that was cut short as he forced his tongue in your mouth; working overtime as his hand made its way to your wet pussy and rubbed the seam with his fingers. Gasping into his mouth, moaning lightly (aware of your noise, knowing there were people actually doing their job in the courthouse) as his long fingers stimulated your clit and your little wet hole.

“Makin’ me do things a Daddy shouldn’t do,” he growled, “you eva’ touch yourself like this? ‘magining your Dad gettin’ you ready for his cock? huh? little baby?”

You never once imagined what his dirty talk would be like, so filthy in your ear. But he was right, there had been a few times you’ve imagined him touching you late at night. Disgusting thoughts that clouded your mind in the devil's hour.

He was so quick but gentle, giving you attentive kisses and soothing your nerves as he prepared you to take your dad’s cock.

You whined when you felt his hard cock bump against your inner thigh, eyebrows furrowing. His fingers on your clit felt good and his tongue invading your mouth made you drool.

Sonny peeked down to where his erect cock was positioned between your legs. For a single second, he hesitated—it was as if his mind came back to him.

He can’t do this, it isn’t right—he’s your father. The tip of his cock leaked a stray tear of pre-cum and his cock throbbed in his grip. Your pussy was right there, barely an inch away from pushing inside your tight little hole, and he knew the minute he pushed inside you, he would never be able to stop.

Already imagining the next time he’ll get to fuck you. Maybe later on in the night, sneaking into your room while your mom slept and clamping a hand over your mouth while he finally got to taste your pussy.

His thoughts left him the second they rushed through his mind, and he pushed his hips forward and the tip of his cock notched your wet hole and his fingers stopped rubbing you, settling on a slow rhythm.

Your arm snaked around his neck and pulled him impossibly close to you as he pushed his cock inside you. Your mouth was tight against the fabric of his dress shirt, eyes squeezing shut as the tip of him breached you.

There was still an inch of him hidden beneath his slacks, the cons of having a quickie in his office is that he couldn’t push the entirety of himself inside you. He was fully clothed in a three piece suit he couldn’t just remove very easily.

Your own father’s cock inside you, the same cock that made you was inside you. And that kept running through your mind.

But for the most part, he was fully inside you. And your thighs trembled and shook at the fact your Dad was inside you.

“S’okay… s’okay—“ Sonny choked as he turned his head so he could mumble against the side of your lips. “Just hold onto daddy.”

And you did, your little fingers digging into his shoulder blade as he gave an experimental light thrust of his hips and he groaned, it came deep from his throat and his hand tight on your thigh spread your leg wider as he fucked his cock into you, finding his rhythm inside you.

“Takin’ ya dad’s cock so fuckin’ well.”

Your pussy clenched on him at his words. Reminding you that he wasn’t some guy from work—that you were falling apart on your dad’s cock.

“J—Jesus, d—dad,” you moaned and bit onto his shirt for some sort of stability. His cock was pumping inside you and your bare thighs were met with the soft fabric of his dress pants, muffling what would’ve been harsh, wet slaps of flesh meeting in a selfish hurry. “F—feels so good.”

If you were worried about his co-workers hearing what was happening inside his office before, you definitely weren’t now. Muffling your moans in his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut as the pressure in your pussy built and built with the faint pain of the tip of his cock thumping against your cervix.

“D—dad,” you gasped, “f—fuck, I’m—o—oh my g—god, it—“

Sonny pressed his forehead against yours once more, murmuring against your lips, “gonna cum, baby? Cummin’ already on ya daddy’s cock?”

He could tell by with how your fingers dug into his shoulders, how he could feel the drool you had left behind on his chest and with how fucking tight your pussy was gripping him; getting tighter by the second, almost trying to push his cock out of you.

His thumb worked harder on your hard clit, pressing down and circling in harder circles. Where his hand was, your pussy was so wet, dripping onto the couch like a burst pipe and covering his dress pants (and he thanked Barba for telling him to always keep a spare suit in his office, in case of emergencies. And fucking his own flesh and blood child to oblivion and back was one of them.)

“D—dad—daddy—dad,” you babbled against his soft lips, “can I—p��please?”

Oh, how sweet. You asked permission, always a polite kid. He wonders who taught you that—your manners, that is, and it was him. Your mom would’ve raised you to be a bully if he didn’t get there when he did.

His cock fucked harder into you and as a result it had the top of your head hitting the soft cushion and your moans grew louder but were still muffled into his shoulder.

“C’mon, baby, please fuckin’ cum—need’a feel it, honey, let ya dad feel ya cum—“

Sonny’s words spurred you on, his thumb rubbing hard circles on your clit and his cock pounding into the very end of you was just enough to set you over and you came all over his cock with a muffled squeal, eyes clenched painfully shut and your arms pulled him impossibly closer to you. Your pussy tightened almost painfully on his cock and the pressure was just enough to push him out, but his greedy cock fought against it and and pushed and fucked you through your first orgasm by a cock.

Little squirts of liquid left your pussy and splattered on his dress pants, not enough to turn heads if anyone walked in, but enough to make your Dad moan like a whore.

“That’s it—what a good fuckin’ kid, doin’ as you’re told—makin’ me feel so good.”

You weren’t your mother—you were his perfect little angel that he made himself, in his image. And that alone was enough to convince himself not to pull out—if there were consequences of his actions, he’d allow those consequences with open arms.

Not even a second later, you felt his cock pump inside you harder and faster—then you felt the vibration of his deep, throaty groan against you and felt the warm spurts of his pent up cum inside you.

“Daddy,” you whimpered.

“That felt fuckin’ good,” he groaned and tipped his forehead onto your shoulder, his thrusts slowing as he rode out his orgasm inside you.

He felt better than he had in a long time. He just now realised he didn’t need your mother, he never did. As long as he had you, he had an obedient little kiddo to take their daddy’s big cock. He knew you wouldn’t miss an opportunity to show your dad how grown up you really were.

It took him a minute to pull out of you, your pussy gripping him and milking him for everything he has and he didn’t want to leave the hot, wet pussy that he took part in making. Fuck, that thought alone was enough to give a hard twitch into his softening cock. But when he did, his cum spilled out with him and onto the already wet leather of the couch.

“Look’a that, baby, look how much you milked outta me—greedy little thing,” and his hand smoothed over your thigh to insert a finger into your sore and spent pussy, plugging his cum back inside you. Your hole clenching around him, even more so when his thumb takes place back on your oversensitive clit.

“D—dad,” you gasped and put your hand on his wrist. “That—“

“‘Know what it is, honey,” and he leaned over to grab your underwear and slid them back up your legs, back where they once were before he decided to fuck you in his office of law. Patting your now clothed pussy, he stood on shaky legs and tucked himself away.

He leaned back down to press his lips to yours, “done me real proud, kiddo, think you deserve a nice nap, huh?” he spoke as he nuzzled his nose with your own and you smiled, lazily biting your bottom lip.

“Still feels like you’re inside,” you say in a whisper.

“Means I fucked ya too good,” and he kisses your nose and then your lips—as if it was second nature. “Now get some sleep, I’ll wake ya for lunch.”

—-

At the dinner table that night, the tension was thick. Your dad had slaved away on the stove making a chicken dish, (with your ‘help’, after the events of earlier in the day, you became so clingy, wanting to be beside him if he couldn’t be inside you) but your mom wanted steak and that was enough for her to give him disrespectful comments on how it tasted, how she preferred her best friends husband’s steak casserole compared to Sonny’s Italian ‘chicken-thing’.

His hand settled on your thigh beneath the table, Your hand was over his, entangling your fingers together.

#law and order svu #peter scanavino #rafael barba x reader #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #rafael barba #raul esparza #sonny carisi imagine #dominick carisi #dominick carisi imagine #peter scanavino x reader #Peter scanavino imagines #law and order imagines #incest fic #parent x child fic

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simplyraeblue · 24 days ago

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King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, drinking, use of "princess", still decently tame, sukuna rides a motorcycle, eventual smut warning tho of course ( • ᴗ - ) A/N: as I said, I had three parts already written for this before I even posted part one (ᵕ—ᴗ—) so, enjoy ya filthy animals

index part one | part three

part three word count : 3,437

you couldn’t quite figure out how or why Sukuna kept ending up at the bar as you, at the same time, every day since your first encounter. yet, like clockwork, you found yourself leaving work and heading to that bar – the one where you’d first crossed paths. maybe it was a subconscious decision, a quiet hope that he’d be there again, just like he had been the last time, and the time before that.

each encountered felt like a dance. you couldn’t even recall the last time you’d ordered a drink for yourself. Sukuna always had two waiting – one for him, one for you. he seemed to know you’d show up, his confidence practically radiating. it had to be his cockiness that convinced him of your arrival each day.

but Sukuna wasn’t oblivious. he’d pieced together that the bar was just around the corner from your workplace, and with a little persistence and some well-placed tips to the bartender, he gained the little slice of knowledge that you were a regular. your resistance intrigued him, even if it grated on his nerves. how had you managed to keep him at arm’s length this long? this game was new territory for him; women usually threw themselves at him, eagerly falling into bed. but you? you were different – a challenge he hadn’t enjoyed in ages.

“are you an alcoholic, or what?” you teased, smirking as you approached him from behind. right on time. Sukuna didn’t bother answering. instead, he slid a pint across the bar to the stool next to him and patted the seat, silently inviting you to take your place. beside him.

you scoffed, half in disbelief. you weren’t sure if his behavior was bordering on stalker territory or if he was just that determined to win whatever strange game he’d started two weeks ago. and yet, despite your better judgment, you took the open seat.

over time, those two post-work hours with him each night had become a strange sort of routine. little by little, you’d pried bits of personal information from him. he had two brother and was the oldest. he worked as a tattoo artist – a quick internet search confirmed he was quite popular locally – and he wanted to eventually open his own shop someday.

and then there was the breakup. he’d mentioned it briefly, almost casually, as if it wasn’t any true trouble to him. but the details? those he left vague.

“while I don’t mind doing this every day, when are you going to let me take you out on a real date?” Sukuna asked, his devilish smirk firmly in place as he watched you take a sip of your drink.

“I don’t know.” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “it’s been pretty entertaining coming here after work and find your raggedy ass sitting in the same spot every time.” you grinned over the rim of your glass, already bracing yourself for his comeback. something wicked flickered in his eyes, and you knew you’d poked the bear.

“raggedy ass?” Sukuna repeated, arching a brow with an amused grin. “you and my little brother would get along way too well.”

“probably.” you shot back. “I’ve only had to tolerate you for two weeks, but he’s already my hero for dealing with you his whole life.”

Sukuna laughed – a deep, booming sound that felt like it reverberated through your chest. it wasn’t something you’d intended, but you found yourself liking the sound: loud, unapologetic, and enough to draw attention from others in the bar. you were pretty sure if anyone dared to complain, they’d shut up instantly with a remark from his sharp tongue.

when his laughter subsided, Sukuna rested his chin in his hand, gaze fixed on you. “how about we play a little game?” he asked, his tone low and teasing.

“aren’t we already playing one?” you replied, shooting him a pointed look.

“this one’s simple.” his smirk widened. “I’ll be here, same time as usual tomorrow. if you show up again, I’ll take that as a yes to a date with me. a proper date, not just sitting in a bar down the street from your work.

you averted your gaze, aware of the heat rising in your cheeks. a real date? you’d gotten so comfortable here, trading playful insults and talking with him so casually every evening. would a date change things?

Sukuna studied your face while you thought in silence, the corner of his mouth twitching in satisfaction. he knew he’d caught you off guard. he thought you look so cute, brows furrowed and cheeks flushed, unable to meet his gaze. flustered – that’s what it was. and he liked you that way far more than he cared to admit.

“not sure you’d survive a real date with me,” you said, finally meeting his eyes, your voice steady despite the slight flutter in your chest.

Sukuna’s grin deepened, revealing the faintest hint of sharp canines. “oh, sweetheart, I’d survive just fine. the real question is, could you handle it?”

there it was—that cocky, self-assured attitude that was both infuriating and magnetic. you rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “bold of you to assume I even want to.”

“I don’t assume,” he replied smoothly, leaning closer. “I know. you wouldn’t keep showing up here if you didn’t enjoy my company.” his voice dipped lower, like a secret meant only for you. “I can see it in the way you’re smiling right now, no matter how much you try to hide it.”

your smile faltered for a second, but the smug look on his face spurred you to regain your footing. “or maybe I just like the free drinks,” you teased, taking a long sip from your glass.

Sukuna barked out another laugh, drawing more curious glances from around the bar. he didn’t care. “fair enough. but tomorrow? no drinks, no games—just you and me. that is, if you show up.” he gave you a look that was both a challenge and an invitation. “think you’re brave enough?”

brave enough? the audacity.

“you’re really not going to drop this, are you?” you asked, setting your glass down and crossing your arms.

“not a chance,” Sukuna replied, leaning back with an air of triumph. “but hey, if you’re too scared, just say so.”

you glared at him, lips twitching as you tried not to laugh. “I’m not scared.”

“good,” he said, standing up suddenly and throwing a few bills on the counter. “then I’ll see you tomorrow, same time.” he grabbed his leather jacket, slinging it over his shoulder as he looked down at you one last time. “and don’t be late, princess.”

with that, Sukuna turned and walked out, leaving you sitting there, torn between frustration and attraction. you hated how much his confidence got under your skin, and yet you couldn’t deny the thrill that came with every interaction.

you sighed, finishing the rest of your drink. tomorrow, huh? you weren’t sure if you’d go—but the thought of skipping out and letting him win so easily? that didn’t sit right with you either.

as you left the bar that night, one thing was clear: Sukuna had officially gotten under your skin, and you weren’t entirely sure how to shake him. or if you even wanted to.

the next evening, you found yourself lingering outside the bar longer than usual. it wasn’t hesitation keeping you there—not entirely. maybe it was nerves, though you hated to admit that Sukuna had gotten into your head like this.

the thought of his smug grin waiting for you inside was both infuriating and... exciting. you sighed, steeling yourself, and pushed the door open.

as always, Sukuna was there, seated in his usual spot, leaning back against the bar like he owned the damn place. he didn’t even look up when the door creaked open. instead, he glanced at his watch, his grin forming before he turned to you. “right on time, princess,” he drawled, eyes raking over you with a lazy confidence that set your nerves alight. “knew you couldn’t resist.”

you rolled your eyes, brushing past a couple of patrons on your way to his side. “don’t get too full of yourself, ass. you know I was already in the area.”

“oh, yeah?” he said, sliding a fresh drink in your direction without missing a beat. “and I suppose it’s just a coincidence that you didn’t choose another bar?”

you took the drink—not because he offered, of course, but because it was easier than engaging with his nonsense right away. “you’re awfully cocky for someone who still hasn’t gotten a yes,” you retorted, sipping slowly and watching his reaction.

Sukuna laughed, the deep, familiar sound somehow settling your nerves even as it annoyed you. “you showing up is all the ‘yes’ I need,” he said, turning to face you fully now, his arm resting casually on the back of your chair. “so, what’s it gonna be? you gonna let me sweep you off your feet tonight?”

you raised an eyebrow. “sweep me off my feet? that’s ambitious. I’m not that easily impressed.”

“challenge accepted,” he replied without hesitation. he leaned in just slightly, close enough for his voice to drop into that low, taunting tone he seemed to know got under your skin. “I’ve been playing nice, but maybe it’s time I stepped up my game.”

you tilted your head, meeting his gaze head-on. “oh, this was you playing nice?”

“careful,” he warned, smirking. “keep testing me, and you might find out what happens when I stop.”

the tension between you crackled like static, a silent standoff as neither of you broke eye contact. it was exhilarating, maddening, and far too entertaining for you to even think about leaving now. you couldn’t deny the heat you felt wash over your body, from your head to your toes you were… bothered to say the least.

finally, Sukuna leaned back, breaking the moment with a smug chuckle. “finish your drink, sweetheart. we’ve got a reservation.”

you blinked. “a reservation? you made plans?”

“don’t sound so surprised,” he said, standing and tossing a few bills on the bar. “I told you, tonight’s a proper date. you coming, or are you chickening out?”

you didn’t move right away, deliberately taking another sip of your drink just to make him wait. but as much as you hated giving him the satisfaction, the curiosity was too strong to ignore.

setting your glass down, you stood and grabbed your coat. “alright, Sukuna,” you said, brushing past him toward the door. “show me what you’ve got.”

his grin widened as he followed, the thrill of the chase sparking in his eyes.

the cool evening air brushed against your skin as you stepped out of the bar, Sukuna following close behind. “so,” you started, glancing back at him. “where’s this ‘proper date’ happening? let me guess—a hole in the wall with sticky floors and loud music?”

“cute,” Sukuna replied, his smirk firmly in place. “but no. I’m classier than that.”

“sure you are,” you muttered, half teasing. “alright, then. impress me.”

“don’t worry, princess,” he said, leading you down the sidewalk. “I will.”

your steps slowed as you spotted a sleek, black motorcycle parked just ahead, a matching black helmet tied to the handlebar. Sukuna stopped next to it and turned to you with a grin that could only be described as wicked.

“seriously?” you asked, gesturing toward the bike. “this is how you’re taking me on a proper date?”

“what? you don’t trust me?” he teased, pulling a spare helmet from the back and tossing it to you.

you caught it, arching a brow. “not sure trust is the word I’d use. what is this, your bad-boy routine?”

he laughed. “sweetheart, this is the routine. now, are you getting on, or are you too scared?”

your jaw clenched at the challenge in his tone. no way were you letting him think you’d back down. you placed the helmet on your head, snapping it into place as he watched with obvious amusement.

“let’s get this over with,” you said, climbing onto the bike behind him.

Sukuna smiled as he mounted the motorcycle, his hands gripping the handlebars with ease. “hold on tight, princess,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

you hesitated for half a second before wrapping your arms around his waist, feeling the warmth of his body beneath his jacket – god above even the muscles in his abdomen that your arms pressed themselves into. he revved the engine, and before you could overthink it, the bike took off.

the rush of the wind was exhilarating, the world blurring as Sukuna navigated through the city streets. you clung to him, your earlier nerves replaced by something close to excitement. it wasn’t long before he slowed, pulling into a quiet side street lined with warm lights and the soft hum of activity.

when he finally stopped outside a small, cutesy restaurant, you climbed off the bike and removed your helmet, smoothing down your hair. “this is it?” you asked, eyeing the sign above the door and noticing the patio with fairy lights out back. “didn’t peg you as this type.”

“guess I’m full of surprises,” Sukuna said, smirking as he stowed the helmets.

you rolled your eyes, but the faint smile tugging at your lips betrayed your curiosity. Sukuna held the door open for you, and as you stepped inside, the cozy atmosphere of the restaurant wrapped around you.

“you’re really going all out, huh?” you said, glancing back at him.

he leaned down slightly, just enough for his words to feel like a private joke. “when I do something, I do it right.”

you cast a glance over your shoulder as Sukuna followed you in, his imposing figure drawing a few curious looks from the other customers. it wasn’t hard to see why. even here, dressed in his leather jacket and with his strong presence, Sukuna looked like he belonged in the chaos of a fight, not the quiet comfort of a place like this. yet somehow, he seemed perfectly at ease.

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or suspicious,” you said, crossing your arms. “how’d you even get us a table here on short notice?”

he smirked, casually slipping his hands into his jacket pockets. “let’s just say I know how to get what I want.”

“of course you do,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

the host appeared, guiding you to a corner table that offered a little privacy from the rest of the customer. Sukuna pulled out your chair, a surprising gesture that earned a skeptical look from you.

“since when are you the gentleman type?” you asked, sitting down cautiously.

“since now,” he replied smoothly, taking his seat across from you. “don’t get used to it.”

the two of you read over the menu in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken tension. it wasn’t awkward, though – more like another game you were both quietly playing, testing each other’s patience and resolve.

when the waiter came, Sukuna ordered with casual confidence, even surprising you with his knowledge of the wine list. as the waiter walked away, you leaned forward, narrowing your eyes.

“okay, what’s the deal?” you asked. “this doesn’t seem like your usual scene.”

he leaned back in his chair, his smirk never wavering. “what, you think I spend all my time in bars and back alleys?”

“well, yeah,” you said bluntly, earning a low chuckle from him.

“trust me,” he said, resting his forearms on the table, “I know how to handle myself in places like this. just because I like to keep things casual doesn’t mean I can’t step it up when I need to.”

you tilted your head, studying him. he was a contradiction—a mix of rough edges and sharp wit, seeming to be someone who thrived on chaos yet could navigate moments like this with unsettling ease.

as you racked your brain to try and put the pieces of the puzzle that is Sukuna together, he gazed at you. your cocked head, pursed lips and eyebrows, all of it gave him feelings he didn’t know he could feel. he wanted to pinch your cheeks and take a bite out of you all in the same move.

sure, originally, he had considered his efforts to be a fun little game – something he’d become an expert at. but this time it wasn’t a game he wanted to get a metaphorical trophy for at the end. he wanted to win, and keep winning over and over again. Sukuna’s end goal wasn’t to get you into bed, although he’d already spent much time thinking about what it would be like, but he wanted you to like him. want him. need him.

“so what’s your game, Sukuna?” you asked, deciding to drop the pretense. “you don’t strike me as the ‘dinner date’ type.”

he grinned, leaning in slightly. “maybe I’m just curious.”

“about what?”

“about you.” his tone was teasing, but his crimson eyes betrayed a flicker of something more serious, more genuine. “you don’t make it easy, and I like that.”

you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, but you refused to look away. “curious, huh? that’s a dangerous game to play.”

“good,” Sukuna said, his grin widening. “danger’s where I’m most comfortable.”

though you’d never admit it to him, you were starting to like the way he made you feel: a little off-balance, a little reckless, and very, very alive.

As Sukuna watched you across the table, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction. You were trying hard to keep your composure, but he’d already noticed the small tells—how your fingers fidgeted slightly with the edge of your napkin, how you avoided meeting his eyes for too long. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to feed his ego.

Sukuna had always been good at reading people—what made them tick, what made them crumble. With most, it was laughably easy. Flash a smirk, lean in close, say the right thing, and they’d melt like butter. But you? You weren’t impressed by his confidence or his looks. You pushed back, called him out, and never let him feel like he had the upper hand for long.

It was infuriating.

And, strangely enough, addictive.

He watched as your brow furrowed slightly as you studied him. That curious little look you always got when you thought he wasn’t paying attention – it was becoming one of his favorite expressions on you.

“What?” you asked, catching him staring.

“Nothing,” Sukuna said, smirking as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Just wondering what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “If you think flattery’s going to get you anywhere, you’re wasting your time.”

“Who says I’m wasting it?” he shot back, enjoying the way you stiffened slightly. “I’ve got nowhere else I’d rather be.”

And that, to his surprise, was true.

He’d spent years chasing thrills—fights, chaos, women who came and went without leaving so much as a mark. But this? Sitting across from you, trading sharp words and stolen glances, felt different. It wasn’t just the chase that drew him to you. It was the fact that you didn’t back down.

You weren’t scared of him.

You intrigued him in ways he hadn’t expected, and for the first time in a long time, Sukuna felt the thrill of not knowing how something would end.

As the meal went on, he found himself talking more than he usually did, letting slip bits and pieces of himself he hadn’t planned on sharing. He didn’t know why he bothered – maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the way you actually listened, meeting his words with equal parts curiosity and suspicion.

When the plates were cleared and the bill paid, Sukuna stood, offering you his hand. You stared at it for a moment, and he couldn’t help but smirk. “Relax, princess. I don’t bite.” although he wanted to.

an inappropriate response almost slipped past your lips, almost asking him to do just that. “Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered, but you took his hand anyway, letting him pull you to your feet.

As you stepped outside, Sukuna handed you the helmet once more, watching as you adjusted it with that same fiery determination that had hooked him from the start.

Maybe this was dangerous. Maybe you’d be his undoing.

But Sukuna had never been one to back down from a challenge—and you, he realized, were one he didn’t want to win too quickly.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @mangiswig@aldebrana@ravester@marie-is-in-the-dark@makingtimemine @sorahatake @osohchoso @csolya @clp-84 @chosokamoluvr . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna smut

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angelic-ambedo · 5 months ago

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The Weirdest Fucking Movies I've Ever seen Pt. 1

Okay so I sort of champion myself as a lover of weird movies. And it's funny because regardless of how many I've seen, every time I watch a weird movie I genuinely feel as if it is the weirdest movie I've ever seen in my life.

So, I decided to make a list which compiles all of said weird movies and then a description of why I find each so uniquely weird. If you find any of these descriptions or titles intriguing, I recommend you seek these movies out, because a weird movie = a good life ya know so yeah

If you have more weird movies please please recommend them im hungry for new crazy cinema bebesssss

Eraserhead (1977) - genuinely makes no sense.

Coherence (2013) - trippy scientifically interesting thriller

Some Velvet Morning (2013) - abusive cat n mouse relationship

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004) - emotional violence

Greener Grass (2019) - let's shame suburbia!

Trash Humpers (2009) - people fucking the trash...?

Julien Donkey-Boy (1999) - mental illness be so sad and trippy

Gummo (1997) - literal photo album of a dysfunctional town

Slaughtered Vomit Dolls (2006) - bulimia PSA in disguise

Black Bear (2020) - art seeps into the "real" world

Begotten (1990) - god kills himself

Trouble Every Day (2001) - eating people presented as...a turn on?

Baise-Moi (2000) - punk feminist murderous women are sick and society sux

Palindromes (2004) - one character is played by a ton of different actors of different ages, races, and sexes

964 Pinocchio (1991) - so much vomit, even more cyberpunk lobotomy sex machine madness

Meet the Feebles (1989) - the muppets give each other STDs and commit mass murder

In the Realm of the Senses (1976) - a torrid, pornographic affair used to escape the horrors of a war-torn world

Enter the Void (2009) - going to the past, present, and future, POV shots that include blinking, going inside the body, taboo themes with a psychedelic style

Love (2015) - horny pseudo-porno about a misogynistic asshole who somehow pulls hot, sexually adventurous women

Climax (2018) - LSD fueled nightmare

Pink Flamingos (1972) - a competition to be the "filthiest person alive" (spoiler alert: the cool drag queen wins)

Vivarium (2019) - Suburbia is still creepy, guys

Be My Cat: A Film for Anne (2015) - can we please stop having erotomania like celebrities aren't into u babe :(

No No Nooky TV (1987) - Computers being cool and saying "boobs" and "clit"

The Piano Teacher (2001) - unsafe nonconsensual bdsm and sexual repression is...no. please no.

The Night Porter (1974) - stockholm syndrome and wild bdsm stuff with postwar themes

Belle de Jour (1967) - more bdsm themes

Titane (2021) - woman fucks a car and gets pregnant

Daisies (1966) - two girls cut up pickles and destroy the patriarchy

Creep 1 and 2 (2014, 2017) - murder has never been this funny

Garbanzo Gas (2007) - a human cow gets an all-expenses paid trip to a motel before it hits the slaughterhouse

Melancholie der Engel (2009) - ew.

In Our Garden (2002) - old men dicks + weirdest dialogue I've ever heard in my life

The Rehearsal (TV series) (2022) - this is the ultimate weirdest thing ever and I don't know how else to categorize it.

Trigger Warnings (all of these movies are weird/fucked up but some of them contain actual fucked up stuff that like. happened in real life. so below are the triggers for that kind of stuff. All of these films are genuine films, not the gore stuff the internet produces, but some of them because of the country/time period/transgressiveness include content that is inappropriate and/or ethically unacceptable, so I've included those movies below)

Baise-Moi - unsimulated sex scenes which includes SA scenes that actors consented to but characters did not. this proves a feminist point but is still incredibly upsetting and stayed with me for a while as there are close ups and its awful.

In the Realm of the Senses - Please look into this one more before you watch it, I'm not going to describe things in detail because it makes me so uncomfortable but there are some scenes that involve young actors that should not ethically have been in the situations they were put in. The movie is exceptionally well made and from what I know globally respected so I don't know why they had to ruin it for me but whatever.

Pink Flamingos - One infamous scene involves an actual chicken death. It was the early 70s (long time ago and no PETA) and they apparently ate the chicken afterward, so I felt less immoral about this one but still gross.

Melancholie der Engel - okay please genuinely never watch this movie unless you're super into traumatizing yourself and are very desensitized I guess. There's a ton of actual animal abuse in very very graphic/unnecessarily disturbing shock type situations. There's other bad unsimulated stuff but this is the worst of it from what I know.

Love and Meet the Feebles contain scenes that are transphobic and/or racist, which is gross. Slaughtered Vomit Dolls was made by a very bad person. A bunch of the movies also have unsimulated sex stuff, I don't know if that makes anyone uncomfortable but if it does I'm just putting it out there.

#weird movies #disturbing movies #obscure movies #movie #cult movies #vintage movies #film #classic film #cinema #surreal #surrealism #art house #experimental #harmony korine #gaspar noe #extreme #riot grrrl #punk rock

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harrywavycurly · 5 months ago

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How would Niall bring us up in an interview?😍

Hiii babes!!! Oh love this question, so I’m gonna go off of the bf Niall series I have going on to answer this! I did it as a conversation between Niall and an interviewer! I hope you enjoy💖

-find all thing Boyfriend Niall Horan here✨

A/N: Niall gets asked about a certain instagram post of yours that takes him on a spiral of how long has he actually been in love with you?✨

“So Niall before we let you go there’s just one thing that’s been eating at me…” “Oh? What’s that?” “Well…I noticed a certain caption of a photo of you on your…bestfriend’s instagram-” “why’d ya do the finger quotes when you said bestfriend? You don’t think she’s my bestfriend?” “I’m sure she is but..have you seen this photo?” “Let me see here…oh would you look at that?..she always gets the best shots of me doesn’t she? Now you’re saying the caption is what’s bothering you?” “Well read it to us and you tell us what it means.” “It says…oh god…it uh well it says…yup that’s my man right there…” “and that means?” “That means…I’m her man and…I’m right there with three beers in my hand and a smile on my face for those of you tuning in at home who can’t see this absolutely beautiful photo of me that my wonderful girlfriend posted…on the internet.” “So she is your girlfriend then?” “Yeah…has been for a few months now.” “But you two have known each other for a few years right?” “Uh yeah? I think like two years now…hit it off right away and pretty sure I fell in love with her the moment she called me an asshole like five minutes after we met…but that’s a story for another time.” “Wait wait wait…you’ve loved her since you met her but you’re only just now dating?” “I mean…I don’t mean I was really in love with her I just mean she kinda knocked me on my ass and turned my world upside down and like…yeah.” “It’s giving you’ve loved her this whole time Niall…” “god she’s gonna proper kick my ass now thanks to you…I mean yeah I guess I have always loved her? But I wasn’t ready to fall in love with her until recently because I just..I had shit to deal with and didn’t want to put her through that.” “So just being besties was fine for two years?” “Yeah because I just needed her in my life and I took what I could get.” “Did you two date other people during this time or no?” “Uh..well uhm-” “uh oh…did you date other people and she didn’t?” “She dated and I didn’t….her dating other people is what made me get my head outta my ass and tell her how I was feeling.” “We know that obviously went well.” “It ended up going well but like…I knew she felt the same way about me in the beginning when we first met…we had a conversation about it and that’s when I told her I’m not ready for anything close to a serious relationship and that’s why we decided to be friends…so I was terrified to tell her my feelings for her never went away they actually just got stronger because what if she didn’t feel anything for me anymore? I was proper panicking and then she just told me she felt the same way and that once again…I’m an asshole for making her wait so long but that she would’ve waited as long as I needed because she knows I’m it for her.” “Oh god…damn it Niall not you making me cry…that’s so sweet oh my god…” “sorry…I just..I could talk about her for ages and ages if I’m being honest…but yeah she’s my girlfriend and I uh I just love her even though she is the worst photographer in the world…and yes lover of mine since I know you’re listening…I mean it… the absolute worst.” “Thank you so much for jointing us today Niall! And thanks for telling us your love story…friends to lovers is my favorite trope.” “Thanks for having me…kinda felt like a therapy session towards the end there…gotta get all that sappy stuff off my chest…oh I’m an enemies to lovers kinda guy…I love good banter…but yeah thanks for having me and talk to you lovely lot later!”

Instagram Post Mentioned:

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justanothergoldfish · 2 months ago

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Greg Lestrade x reader

Handsome stranger - part two -

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3

warnings: swearing, drinking

words: 2200

A/N: there will be a third part. I love Greg too much. Also in this part, reader is definitely written from a female POV. If i hear one complaint about my interpretation of Scottish English I'm burning down the internet.

---

It didn't take long for your boss to show up at the bar after that interaction.

“Seriously? Ain't he a wee old for a lassie like you?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing together. With a feign look of innocence you shrugged, “What are you talking about?”

“I heard ya, young lady. Drooling over that poor fella.”

Hearing him call you out so shamelessly made it impossible to stay serious and to not grin like an idiot.

“Oh can't I have some fun? Hey, maybe he'll tip nicely, alright? I'm just… boosting your business. Sales, you know?”

Gary rolled his eyes and shook his head, and you could almost hear him think ‘You're a hopeless case’ as he nudged towards the kitchen. “Go help the lad in the back, aye? I'll take it from here.”

You too rolled your eyes and clicked your tongue. “Hey, just to make this clear; men are like wine, they get better with age. Guess you might've gone bad.” you groaned in annoyance, throwing the linen cloth from your apron onto the counter before heading into the kitchen.

“Oi, remember who's paying your bills, lassie!” Gary called after you, his voice a bit elevated, earning a huff from you. It was all friendly banter, but it still made you pout, not to be able to serve Greg and have some fun conversation. You had been looking forward to another chat with this gorgeous man from London, he seemed… Interesting.

After what felt like a thousand peeled potatoes later, Gary returned and slumped himself into a corner in the kitchen.

“I feared the day would come…bloody shite…” he mumbled, looking pale as a ghost. The man shook his head, staring into the steamy kitchen air.

Without looking at him, you already guessed what happened. “What's wrong? Someone discovered that the ‘monster’ is just a hungry dog you've sat out in the forest?”

Gary's eyes drifted over to you. “That fella you've been drooling over… He's an Inspector.”

Oh shit.

Instant panic broke out internally at his revelation and you basically dropped everything. “A Health Inspector? Bloody christ Gary, I don't have a fucking food or beverage certification! I'm only supposed to help you out until you find someone else! What am I supposed to do?!” you hissed, crouching down in front of him.

Gary sighed and waved it off. “Not a Health Inspector. A Detective from Scotland Yard.”

Was that better or worse?

It took a few moments to calm down and collect your thoughts.

“So? What now?”

With a groan, Gary buried his face in his hands. “We told him everything, I can never look that man in the eyes again… He's only staying for one night, aye?”

You got back up and crossed your arms.

A Detective from Scotland Yard? This man got more interesting by the minute.

“Looks like I'll take it from here again. I'll make sure he’ll have a pleasant time and won’t close down your business.”

As you came to the front, you saw Greg leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone. He nipped on his beer and locked his phone as you approached with light steps. Even though he had scared the shit out of the owner, he seemed so… relaxed.

Once you cleared your throat you decided to speak up to him again.

“So… You're a Detective? Is that what brought you here? Are we in trouble?” you tried to jest as he locked his phone and gave a reassuring smile.” I'm on holiday, no need to panic. I think the owner’s already learned his lesson and if I learned one thing in life it's to never mess with a lady who pours my beer.”

The way his eyes creased when he carried that beaming smile, it was honestly heartwarming.

“You're a smart man then.” you chuckled, grabbing a small chestnut wood bowl and filling it with a bag of mixed nuts and crackers from one of the cabinets.

“So, a Detective from London, all the way out here in the Dartmoor in our humble village,” you grabbed a tall glass and poured him another, noticing his drink was nearly finished, “You probably brought some exciting stories along. Care to share?”

Greg huffed as he supported himself on the counter with both arms in front of his chest and adjusting his seat on the barstool. “Rather gory than glory, trust me. Sure you can handle it?”

The teasing smirk on his face made your heart flutter and cheeks redden as you tried to contain yourself and served him his beer and the complimentary snack bowl.

“You surely know the key to a man's heart. Thank you, love.”

Greg took a few peanuts, juggling him in his hand ever so slightly.

"You'll probably hate me for questioning you about your job on your holiday, but I have to know. Have you ever seen a dead body?”

Greg munches on his peanuts as he nods along. Knowing that the hotel owner would scold you for just standing around and chatting, you decided to clean up a bit and do some side work during the talk.

“I've seen some, yeah. Part of the job.” He finally says after swallowing.

From one of the drawers you gathered a bunch of paper towels and a tray of cutlery. Rolling silverware seemed like a perfect task to do right now, surely the conversation would make this eternally hated task probably more bearable.

Greg observed your hands working on the roll-ups with precision and skill as he took one of the crackers into his mouth, chewing on it while watching you.

“So, did you ever… shoot someone?” you asked, spreading out the next paper towel.

For a moment, he went back into his thoughts. He chewed on the inside of his cheek before taking a sip of his beer. With the back of his hand he wiped off the foam from his upper lip and gave a half nod, half headshake.

“Fire a gun at someone, yes. Killed someone, no. I think that answers your question?”

You raised your eyebrows and agreed with a simple nod before moving on to the next question. “Can I see your ID?”

The man grinnes and grabbed another peanut from his bowl, “You've seen it already.”

“Aw, not your personal ID, your police ID, you know what I mean” you mused.

He chuckled as he reached into the inner pocket in the lining of his jacket and got it out, holding it up in front of your face.

“Wow… Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade… Scotland Yard…“ you read off the card quietly, seemingly impressed before looking back up to him, meeting his brown eyes.

“It's not as impressive as you think. Lots of paperwork” Greg explained as he stuffed his ID back into his inner pocket and straightened his jacket afterwards.

“But- my turn to ask a question. I don't even know your name.”

“Then find out? You're a Detective working for Scotland Yard, I'm sure you've got your sources.”

His expression instantly gave away that he was more than up for the challenge, despite being on holiday it seemed to be worth the effort.

“Good, give me until tomorrow morning’” Greg grinned, looking at you all over again. Now that made your cheeks flush a bit, hopefully not enough to be noticeable in the dim light of the bar. His smile made you completely forget about his age for a moment. Not that you truly cared. He was a fine man with an exciting job and probably made good money, what was not to like?

You tried to get a glance at his hands as discreetly as possible.

No ring, good. But it was visible that he'd been wearing one until recently.

Maybe that was your chance to get to know him better personally.

“So, why does a handsome detective go on vacation all on his own?”

Greg can't help but smile bitterly to himself at your words, fidgeting with the beer glass in his hands. He felt flattered by your words, and after divorcing his wife, your words were like a balm to his sore heart.

“Handsome, huh? Can't say I've heard that in a while” he said almost sheepishly before taking a deep breath, staring at the foam of his beverage for a moment.

“Yes, i uh.. I'm divorced. Just happened a few months ago.”

You saw the sorrow creeping up in his face and tried to offer a shoulder to cry on as you sat away the tray of rolled silverware.

“You know, bartenders are perfect to pour your heart out to, if you wanna get it off your chest?”

Greg hummed, his eyes scanning the liquors on the wall behind you.

“Need something stronger for the nerves beforehand?” you asked, already reaching for a shot glass.

He couldn't help but smile at your words, “You're a mind reader, my dear. Pour me anything.”

After scanning through the variety of liquors the bar had to offer, you filled the shot glass with a clear, yellowish liquid and set it down in front of the Detective before returning to your tasks.

Without any hesitation, the man downed his drink in one go and licked the excess off his lips.

“That's a good one. Elderflower?”

You nodded and let him reach the empty shot glass over to get it cleaned in the sink. “Owner made it himself last year. Tastes awfully sweet but don't underestimate the alcohol.”

“You've got quite the taste, eh? Well… pouring my heart out to a bartender, I'm not gonna pass on that opportunity.” He braced himself mentally and propped up an elbow on the counter, his warm eyes drifting off as he started to explain.

“Been married for years, but due to the job, my ex-wife and I sort of drifted apart. We've been fighting constantly, thought it was getting better only to find out she…”

As hard as he tried to say it out loud, the words just got stuck in his throat. Not that he had to finish the sentence for you to understand. You shook your head, not understanding why people were that way.

That was fucked up. And as hard as he tried to find his words, you tried to be empathetic but couldn't help to automatically think out loud “What a bitch.”

Greg blinked a few times at your blatant words before the corners of his mouth curled up into a smile. He'd always felt his heart break at the thought of his failed marriage, feeling like it was his fault. He should've had more time for her, he should've showed her how much he loved her, but for the first time, he saw it all from a different perspective as you continued, “Communication problems or struggling to sort out your work - life balance don't justify cheating. Nothing does.”

You cleaned his shot glass and set it away to dry, still shaking your head. You kept on rambling about how wrong this all was, and it made him change the entire way he'd felt about this divorce prior to this conversation.

Once you noticed how quiet he'd gotten, you too stopped talking and mustered him for a moment. He didn't say anything for a while, he just stared at his glass with a smile, realizing the final straw, his ex-wife's infidelity, was her choice. He never wanted to fight, he never wanted to neglect her or make her feel unloved.

For the first time since the divorce he could look back at the situation without feeling like a miserable man who had thrown away his marriage himself. Your words had made him realize that this wasn't on him.

“Greg? Are you alright?”

Finally, his eyes met yours, the outer corners of them creasing as he gave you a warm, honest smile.

“Pour me two more of those shots, love” he said with an undertone of relief.

So you did. Two more shots, onto the counter.

He took one of them and gestured for you to grab the other one for yourself.

“Oh, I can't, not while I'm on shift-”

“Noone's looking. I'm off duty, I won't arrest you.” he says with a reassuring nudge to the other shot.

If your boss knew…

Ah, screw it.

So you looked left and right quickly before clinking your glass against his, hoping no one would ever find out about it.

“Atta girl. To the pretty lady pouring my drinks and opening my eyes.” he mumbled in a low volume before both of you downed your shot, while his words almost had you choking on the drink.

He sat down his glass with a sigh and mustered you with care. “You know darling, I think I should come around more often."

#bbc sherlock #sherlock fandom #sherlock holmes #bbc sherlock fandom #sherlock #sherlock bbc #greg lestrade #greg lestrade x reader #gregory lestrade #lestrade x reader #listen we don't care about age gaps #di lestrade #Di greg lestrade #221b baker street

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britts-galaxy-brain · 5 months ago

Note

Ohh poor baby. You were a Kiwi Farmer for years. You arguably still are, since you're still posting on that website. Did you really think you would never reap what you sow? There's a reason your comrades stay anonymous.

While I'm here, I thought I would share a thought that's just tickling me pink. For the rest of your life, you will have to stay on guard and diligent. On the other hand, I only need to get lucky once. And trust, I will always be here. Always be waiting. I am the ghost of your past after all.

You're having a normal one tonight aren't ya. Think you're gonna get "lucky" enough to transport yourself from Canada to Texas to get me?

We're not 13 anymore, Lily. The internet tough bitch intimidation tactics don't work on me.

I've never hidden my KF activity. You know that. You know I've only ever interacted with your thread, very rarely all things considered. And yknow what? I'd rather that be the worst thing people know about me as opposed to the shit people now know about you.

Keep throwing your little indignant tantrum. I can't believe we're the same age.

#lily orchard

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lgbtqiamuslimpedia · 1 year ago

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Boyah

Boyah (plural: Boyat) was subcultural identity of AFAB non-binary,tomboy,demi girl & trans-masculine folks of Persian Gulf. Boyat are asigned female at birth,but express gender atypical behaviour. The origin of this queer subculture is unclear, some boyat claimed that it was started through online forums & groups. [citation needed]

Boyah subculture was more visible in Gulf states (including Kuwait,Oman,Saudi Arabia,UAE,Bahrain). Boyah identity may fall under the modern Transgender and Non-binary umbrella. However some people may considered them as people of forth gender.

Sexuality

Boyat folk's sexuality can be confusing in various cultural contexts. Most of the Boyat had intimate and romantic relationships with cis-girls in their past life, but they do not consider themselves as homosexual.

The term Boyah itself does not mean lesbian in arabic.In later life many Boyat had to pursue a heterosexual marriage & had children.Because marriage is a obligatory in local arabic customs.In addition to this, some boyah were androsexual & interested in boys only.

Culture & Lifestyle

Trans-masculine/tomboys/AFAB non-binary/AFAB genderpunk took the “Boyah” cultural identity in their early adolescence. On the otherhand, some boyat took the male role to challenge societal gender norms and stereotypes in Arabic Gulf States.

In general, a boyah is characterized by no make-up, no feminine expressions, no feminine name,feminine pronouns.In boyah subculture, Boyat community may use a massive masculine watches.Boyat people worn loose-fitting male cloth with a touch of the military, vibrantly coloured dresses,shirts and boyah jeans(which are baggy with big prints all over them). Since the age of internet Arab's boyat community started informal groups,online forums.

Most of the boyat have to lead double lives because gulf states has strict cultural gender roles especially for womxn.Many of them are forced to get married.In general Boyah phenomena is considered a disgrace to an arab family's honour.Additionally atypical gender expression is seems to be indecent and deviant in GCC states.Many boyat face stigma for not adhering with rigid patriarchal gender roles.

After leaving home, many undergo a radical transformation,changing their clothes at school/college or a friend's house.While in transition ,they run no real risk of being caught because,while in public, Emirates women are required to wear the national dress - a long black over-garment called an abaya, which makes it easier to switch roles without drawing attention.

Media

In general, Gulf media portrays queerness in negetive ways. A Boyah named Abeer appeared on the Saudi TV Show “Ya Hala” where he/ze said that he/ze was attracted to women while still at school. He/Ze had a complete love relationship with a classmate for a long time. Another person named Hamood joined a show of Radio Sawa where he/ze explained ze was rebelling against social (gender) norms and his/zee family’s restrictions through this boyah phenomena.

On a national television of UAE, a boyah named Bandar openly spoke about his queer relationship with another girl and expressed the desire to marry her and have children with her through IVF. His statement on Abu Dhabi's national television shocked the whole nation.

Decline of Boyah Culture

In the Persian Gulf region, boyah identity became very controversial since 2007. In 2007, the Kuwaiti parliament amended Article 198 of the country’s penal code so that anyone “imitating the opposite sex in any way” could face up to a year in jail and/or a fine of 1,000 dinars ($3,500). A further problem was that the law made no attempt to define “imitating the opposite sex” So it was basically left to the discretion of the police. Within a couple of weeks at least 14 people had been arrested in Kuwait City & thrown into prison. Boyat made their debut as a public concern in 2008 when Dubai police denounced cross-dressing - its chief, Dahi Khalfan Tamim, called on the Ministry of Social Affairs to find out how widespread the practice is and what causes it.

In 2009, Dubai launched a public campaign under the slogan "Excuse Me, I am a Girl", which cautioned against “masculine” behaviour among AFAB queers & tomboys and aimed to steer them towards "femininity". The impetus for this was a moral panic which swept through several Gulf states at that time, regarding the Boyah phenomena. 2 months after announcing the campaign the police persecuted 40 people (for their gender atypical expression), imprisoned them for 3 years in jail.In addition, trans-masculine/trans males,trans women,gender-queers were also shamed & abused by the UAE's police team.

Public Attitudes

Many conservative patriarchal arab people see a greater danger in the Boyah subcultural practices; they fear it can become permanent and cause great distress for the women and their families.

Psychiatrist Yousef Abou Allaban says, "It can go extreme, where they change their sex and have an operation.'' Saudi journalist Yousef Al-Qafari said in an interview on Radio Sawa that family disintegration and lack of true love have led women to act like a man. Al-Qafari said education was the best way to tackle this phenomenon.He called on the Ministry of Education to take up this role.

Social worker Nadia Naseer said, “Families play an essential role in such cases. Families should monitor their female members, especially when they start acting like men by cutting their hair short, wearing men’s clothing, or refusing to wear women’s accessories”. She also said, when a girl or woman does this,she is looking for attention & sending a message that she is a boyah.

Saudi writer Randa Alsheikh, in one of her columns, said that she attended a social gathering where she saw a group of females who appeared almost completely like men.“I would not be exaggerating if I say I could not tell the difference between them and men,” she wrote.She said that they looked, talked and walked like men & “even worse” some appeared to be in their 40s. We need to quickly address this phenomenon to contain these girls so that they are able to build good families and a healthy society,”

#Boyah #Booyah #Boyat #arabic #GCC #Persian Gulf #queer #trans masculine #genderqueer #gender variance #AFAB #Middle Eastern #queer culture #cultural gender identity

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ladysophiebeckett · 1 year ago

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This post is super long and idk who will read it but if there's anything I love to do on the internet its post aimlessly to no one. (anyway)

It gets said a lot that Betty was naïve in how she entered her relationship with Armando, but we fail to take into account how desperate Betty was to live her own life. From the beginning of her character arc she talks about needing a change.

It starts with Roman's invitation, saying he has a guy for Betty but she needs to ask permission (at her 25 yrs of age). Don Hermes says no.

Betty argues back. Don Hermes' excuse is 'you can't go out with strangers'. But Betty isn't really fighting about going out with some guy. Deep down she knows Roman and his neighborhood troublemaking annoying friends are up to no good. It's not about them. It's about her wanting something, asking for it and being denied.

The scene ends like this:

He says the world is dangerous for women and she doesn't understand that. She claims that she can defend herself and he says the above. Betty runs off crying. Dona Julia goes after her and when she returns Don Hermes asks if she's calmed down. From that question alone, it seems as if this isn't the first time Betty has fought with her dad about the rules he imposes upon her. Nor is it the first time that Betty has ran out of a room crying bc she fought with him and lost.

This has happened before.

I don't want to assume that everyone feels the way I feel about Don Hermes, which is that he's annoying. (I'm using 'annoying' as a broad term to describe his overprotection and the traditional\patriarchal way he runs his household, fyi, I know its there. I see it. But I'm not going to delve in that direction).

But there's a reason he's annoying (overprotective). Everything he does for Betty is laced with good intentions, but those good intentions are a double edged sword. At this stage in the story he appears overprotective and suffocating. It's when Dona Julia is pleading with him to let Betty go out that we hear a mention about Miguel (whose original name was 'Juan Ramon' but gets changed to 'Miguel' later on)--a guy who Betty cared about but 'disappeared'.

Let's backtrack to Betty running out of the room when Don Hermes says no. She cries to her mother about how overprotective and controlling her dad is. It's one of the few times Betty is open with someone about how she feels about the way he treats her. We get brief information about how he decided her education, about how she was sent to catholic school, how she wasn't allowed to hang out with the other girls bc she was too young, that the only male friend she was allowed to have was Nicolas and it was bc they were 'practically raised together' (and bc they knew his mother).

She continues to say ‘how is a man going to see me as a normal woman if you keep me treating me like a child? When the only thing I do is stay locked away in this room with only books and stuffed animals?’ The Miguel Situation gets its first mention and its foreshadowed that it hurt Don Hermes and Dona Julia to see their daughter suffer, but Betty says that one bad experience shouldn’t be a reason why she stays that way the rest of her life (which is very brave of her to say considering we know later how afraid she is of letting herself fall deeper in love with Armando).

The last thing she says to Dona Julia is key,

Betty's running theme is change. The eagerness of something to change. Either she needs to change or her dad needs to change. Something needs to change bc she knows she can't keep living the way she's living. She's desperate for something, anything to happen in her life. She goes on to say:

'Queira la major estudiante, la tuvo. La queria graduada con honores, especialiaziones, la tuvo. La queira trabajando en un gran empresa, la tiene trabajando en un a gran empresa. Yo ya les cumpli. Ahora quiero cumplir con mi vida.’

Again, it's not only about going out with some guy. It's about Betty living her own life now that she's done all the things that have been asked of her. From Betty's pov, she's played by the rules, so at what point is she free to do what she wants?

She is the quintessential good daughter, quintessential good student, and later on the quintessential loyal employee that becomes the quintessential loyal clandestine girlfriend--bc those were the rules she was told to play by. But she's at a point in her life where that's not enough to sustain her.

After hearing this, Dona Julia goes back to Don Hermes to plead on behalf of her daughter, however she says something concerning:

Dona Julia is afraid that if Don Hermes doesn't loosen his restrictions, that Betty will have a nervous breakdown and fall into a depression that will cause her to move out of the house.

Sidestepping the 'what if our daughter moves out' comment---

When Betty confides in Armando about her relationship with Miguel and how it ended, she doesn't call it 'depression'--however the way she describes it is very intune with what depression is.

She didn't want to live, she cried many nights, she missed classes at university. She lost the motivation to do anything. This is more than just a 'break up'. It's a traumatic experience and its aftermath is a period of depression that Betty almost didn't survive. Her parents watched her go through this, helplessly and Betty claims it's why her dad protects her so much.

Here we see her showing that she understands Don Hermes and why he does what he does. However, when we see Betty's childhood flashbacks post letter, we see that Don Hermes has always been this way as a consequence of how the world treats his daughter. We see that Betty gets bullied, marginalized--no loving parent wants their child to suffer. So he isolates her from that world so that nothing bad can ever touch her. He tries to provide her with everything he can--books and stuffed animals. Things to fill a void with.

No one can blame him for wanting to protect his daughter, but by isolating her he inadvertently teaches Betty that the solution to when things get hard is to lock yourself away and internalize everything.

In Don Hermes' defense his child rearing is mostly focused on ethics and math. A parent does what they can. So it's no surprise that after the Miguel Incident, he became even more tightly reigned over Betty's life. But again, it does more harm than good.

After Betty's ghosted by Roman and his sketchy loser friend, she's disappointed and cries. Don Hermes has no idea how to comfort or understand a 25 year old woman as he does not see her as one. He assuages her like a father would a child. He says 'We'll go do something together as a family. We'll go see a movie on Friday, champ'. (Not a literal translation). Then he says to Dona Julia, 'If I hadn't given her permission to begin with, then she wouldn't be upset about being (plantada\ghosted)'. He has no problem being seen as the bad guy in Betty's eyes if it means she avoids getting hurt in a worse way.

A couple days later, Don Hermes insists on driving her to work instead of her walking to her bus stop bc he fears she'll run into Roman and his current loser friends.

Betty says to him:

'Let me handle it' she says. Don Hermes doesn't look convinced. And then immediately Nicolas shows up at her door:

Dona Julia is also looking out for Betty and off screen took it upon herself to have Nicolas walk her to the bus stop that morning. She knows Betty needs some kind independence but using Nicolas as an intermediary gives her reassurance.

Betty rejects both options and rushes out the door. Don Hermes, pulling a Dona Julia, takes Nicolas with him and follows Betty on her way to her stop just in case something happens. What they see is Betty doing what she said she would do--handle it.

When left to her own devices Betty can and will handle things on her own, but both her parents insist in their own ways, to keep her in a protective bubble.

As the series progresses we see Betty become friends with el curatel, more specifically Aura Maria. We can all recall when AM has Betty join her on a double date and said date doesn't end well for Betty. Her date is uninterested, rude--despite Betty's best efforts. She gets home late and her dad is not happy. He calls her a 'descarda' when he sees the car dropping her off and then claims she didn't ask permission, to which Betty says 'Well I called my mom and let her know bc you weren't home'. Which leads to this:

Betty becomes the sole breadwinner of her household at some point but Don Hermes reminds her that that doesn't give her any right to decide what she can do with her free time or what time she can come home at. He then makes claims about AM and the men AM is associated with. Betty then defends her and the men (even tho they were lame):

Betty's face here is trying to contain herself but you can tell she's upset. Especially bc it wasn't the best evening, so to be getting yelled at over it doesn't feel worth it. But also, you can see Betty has a fire in her eyes; quiet frustration and inner rebelliousness bc she has been reminded yet again, that she has no freedom despite having a job in a 'great company' and having all the graduation merits and on top of that, now financially supporting her family. It's not enough. And might never be enough.

Despite this, Betty reigns her anger in and goes back to being the quintessential good daughter:

Don Hermes is not fully convinced but he appears to calm down after that.

A lighter altercation between them happens when he takes Betty home after a lanaziamento. He accuses her of taking too many liberties bc of the job that she has, criticizes her being out too much, criticizes her friends. His main worry is that she forgets her traditional values (Betty: Yo sigo siendo de las casa).

As we know, all Betty does is work and get caught in whatever mess el curatel gets her into. Regardless, Don Hermes doesn't like it. He doesn't like the women Betty surrounds herself with and he doesn't like her work or its events:

'The (fashion) world is too much, it's not for you'\'I know it's not my world, it's my job'.

I don't think Don Hermes is trying to be cruel when he says this, rather, I think he fears Betty will one day throw away the values and ethics he's taught her. (She kinda sorta does) Before she leaves for Cartagena, he insists she take a picture of him and Dona Julia, which gives weight to another inner fear of his; that Betty will forget her family and where she came from.

He stubbornly refuses to see (and accept) that Betty is an adult woman who wants to act like an adult woman. She does want to go out with her friends and dance and have the occasional drink. She does wants to date and meet someone, fall in love and in return show the love she's capable of giving.

She's desperate for the opportunity but believes it will never happen for her, so she decides to only dedicate herself to work and by doing so--and out of loneliness, she embraces her fantasies of (an) Armando that we know doesn't exist bc he's the only one that sees her value as a person and a professional. But when Mariana reads her the tarot cards---

Key word here: Change. Both of your lives are going to change.

Betty has been seeking a change in her life. This feeds into her illusions but she doesn't truly start to believe anything could happen until Armando begins to start acting differently around her.

We know it's the plan taking its course but for Betty this is a dream come true. But even in the beginning she's cautious, she doesn't know if the kiss they shared was a mistake and would rather not mention it to him in order to continue keeping the work relationship they already have (and she's happy to maintain if it means to being in his life).

But because Armando seeks her out, it's difficult for her to resist despite the type of relationship he's offering her. In a similar vein to Armando post letter, when he mentally refuses to put the clues together about why she's acting differently--Betty doesn't put together the recent embargo with his sudden interest in her. Where Armando chooses to be blind; Betty's inner frustrations and illusions of having something in her life that's not just work and an over controlled life, speak louder.

There is naiveté in play. It's true that she doesn't know a lot about the world but it's at the result of the overprotectiveness of Don Hermes that Betty doesn't read the signs as clearly until she reads the letter and is cruelly brought down back to earth.

Betty thought that Armando was the change she had been yearning for and her desperation for that change, for that dream to come true---is why she accepts the relationship he's offering her. He's trusted her implicitly until then, so why would she doubt him now?

The Letter happens and Betty's first instinct, the first action she wants to take is to run away. She doesn't want to go back to work, but Catalina reminds her of her responsibilities, that she can't just jump ship when people like Armando are depending on her. Betty especially can't leave as her parents are also depending on her and to quit suddenly with no warning would raise suspicions.

TW: for brief mentions of ED.

(I talk briefly about Betty skipping meals. I don't think the character has an eating disorder per say, but if you gotten this far and this makes the reader uncomfortable, count 5 paragraphs down to skip).

Betty enters the Gaslighting Arc depressed and dead inside. She's no longer a student, she can't afford to take days off to lay comatose in her bed. She also can't let her parents find out that something like Miguel (only worse) has happened to her again.

Post letter on, the series makes a habit of showing Betty either skipping breakfast or skipping dinner. Usually this is just done to show that a character is in a rush and usually bears no importance.

But this happens multiple times. At El Meson she orders vodka and they never get dinner. At Le Noir, despite Nicolas saying they make great eggs, she has him order wine. The night of Armando's last lanzamiento, Armando knows she hasn't eaten and offers to bring her dinner which she rejects. And lastly her diary entry\ voice over from the night she buys the mercedes\rejects Armando's call:

'Desvanezco' is to 'fade'\'vanish'. '...I am fading away before him while he only cares about his company' (rough translation).

Betty acknowledges here that she's not taking care of herself. In the first entry Post Letter she states that she doesn't have the strength to resuscitate herself again. She's metaphorically dead but the reality is that she's depressed and the only thing sustaining her during this period is her anger. (and alcohol). And once the Junta Directiva happens and everything is revealed, Betty in only left with the hurt.

(TW: End of ED mention)

Audience members get annoyed with Betty in the first half of the Cartagena Arc bc she continues to put herself down--Catalina is almost the audience insert with how put off she is with Betty's self deprecation.

It's not healthy or helpful for Betty to view herself this way and yes, it's a learned behavior that she needs to break desperately. But what the audience forgets is that Betty is tired. This is a woman that has tried to change things in her life and she always gets it wrong. Her first foray into love is a failure bc he used her, her attempts at dating are another failure, when she tries to change her look it's another failure; she put all her love and hope into Armando and then he betrays her.

She's been beaten down so much by those attempts, on top of society's view of her--that of course once in Cartagena she immediately feels out of place. Of course her first instinct, yet again, is to run back to the safe haven her dad has always provided for her.

'This isn't my world' which harkens back to Don Hermes telling her a similar thing, '...That's not for you'. It's not helpful and fuels Betty's fight or flight. And she's always picking flight.

This is Betty's first time away from home. This is the first time she has ever been away from her parents. That's why the airport scene with them is so dramatic. She's never slept a night away that's not in her house. A 'niña de la casa' no more. This is the opportunity that she's been waiting for but she doesn't see that yet amid the heartbreak.

Catalina has to guide her and essentially push her out of her comfort zone; and challenge her way of thinking and seeing the world and herself. Betty's always wanted changes in her life but she never knew that in order to embrace new things into your life, you have to be open about it mentally. You can't hide and internalize everything in your entire life. It's damaging to oneself.

In the middle of her trip she tells Nicolas, "No. I can't leave. I'm living something very important here. They (the board) can wait'. Betty is finally putting herself first and putting her foot down. Had they insisted on her presence at the beginning of her trip, she would have gone back.

Betty didn't just need to get away from Armando, she needed to get away from her family, specifically her dad. The internal and external changes that Betty goes through in Cartagena would not have been possible in Bogota. Not with Don Hermes breathing down her neck and Dona Julia flustered in the background. It wouldn't have happened as he wouldn't have allowed it.

Betty needed to leave the protective bubble of her family to learn that she can put herself together, that she can handle it and come back stronger.

Don Hermes' goodbye at the airport consists of giving Catalina instructions of things Betty isn't allowed to do (she doesn't drink, she doesn't party). He, again, refuses to see her as an adult woman. But he is forced to when she comes back from Cartagena:

He goes on to say, 'I feel like I'm lecturing another person, not my daughter'.

But that doesn't stop him as he lectures her into the night:

This is inadvertently what he's taught her to do tho--run away from a situation bc it became hard.

However Betty defends herself and says she came back to deal with issue at hand and take responsibility for her part in it. She's not proud of what she did.

'Don't think I did all of that and then went on vacation. I needed a change in my life'.

This is the change Betty truly needed, the one she's been waiting for and the one that sticks. She needed to learn to see the value in herself, realize that she's not the only one who has ever suffered and more importantly learning not to abandon herself as soon she gets hurt.

No one else was ever going to give her that. Not a relationship, not her family, not her friends. Those people (specifically her family) may love her but in certain instances their love and affection is a blind spot for them and can inadvertently hold her back bc of their insistence on protecting her from the world.

My personal feelings for Don Hermes aside, he loves his daughter and everything he does is well intentioned. He's not necessarily a bad person or bad father, but his over protection is suffocating and his refusal to see that his daughter is no longer a child plays a part in Betty's arc about wanting people to see her as she is--A person that is smart and capable and deserving of respect.

He plays a big part in why Betty does what she does, her inner rebelliousness, her frustrations come from the restrictions he imposes on her. He's not wrong about certain things but he's not 100% right about how he goes about them when it comes to Betty.

As a husband...well.

Anyway.

Betty becomes more independent Post Cartagena and her dad kind of slowly accepts it, especially when it's said in passing that she as a midnight curfew. He's still annoying, but that is simply his character trait.

If you made it this far, thank you. There is no prize except for the inner satisfaction of finishing this post.

#ysblf #betty la fea #beatriz pinzon solano #note: i dont like how i ended this but im very tired of looking at this #another note: this is mostly about betty as i tired to not talk much about armando. there's def more to say when it comes #to their relationship and identical way they feel about things #but that's an entirely different post #and also i did try to look at don hermes fairly #but for the record i do hate his ass but you wont see much of that in this post #one thing i dont talk about is her birthday--i feel like that's been explored a lot so.

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fishsticksloser · 1 year ago

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Are ya still doing requests? Cuz I got one where the rottmnt boys find out that the readers birthday had passed without celebration as the reader never told any of them the date, so they scramble to do something for them. (This could be separate or together)

Missed Birthday

RotTMNT x gn!reader

Warnings: aged up, fluff

A/N: I don't really tell anyone about my birthday, too many disappointing years. Though last year some internet friends did get mad about it...

Donnie

Didn't really notice for quite a while

Then someone else brings it up

Immediate panic mode

He's not the best with social interaction or with people in general

But the last thing he wants is for you to feel insignificant to him

He loves baking (science stuff) so he bakes your favorite and asks Mikey to decorate

He'll even make you something

Then Donnie will sneak into your house to surprise you

And apologize profusely

Leo

If he had hair, he'd pull it all out because he missed your birthday and that stresses him out

Leo would spoil the crap out of you

Taking you somewhere you've always wanted to go by using his ninpo

Your favorite foods

Things in your favorite color

Favorite flowers

Will literally move mountains to get you what you want

He makes sure to keep it in his phone now

Making multiple alarms for the day so he definitely won't forget

Mikey

Mikey didn't miss it on purpose

Sure maybe you hadn't told him, but he went searching online

Found it and made sure to put it in his phone

No.

He was on a mission during your birthday

Still he makes it up to you even if you tell him not to

He'll do anything

Make your favorite dinner

Dessert

Whatever you want, he's all yours

Raph

Absolute panic

Raph is always really good at remembering things

Or just with people in general

So when you were acting a bit strange one day, he should've asked

Then found out he'd missed your birthday!?

He'll go all out

Favorite snacks, flowers, music, everything

Then he'd take you out to watch the sunset outside the city

He'll apologize over and over

He'll make up for it the rest of his life

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olderthannetfic · 10 months ago

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Having a crisis over my friends casually repeating anti talking points— like the anti-"smut in YA" arguments generally reminiscent of Alice Oseman's statements on the matter, as well as more serious things like believing anyone who ships or wrote (insert taboo topic - in several talking cases it was pedophilia) is a suspicious and untrustworthy person. And everyone around them seemed to just casually agree?? They're not hardcore antis or anything but they clearly believe this is just normal. (Bonus points for the guy who started unironically arguing that pedophiles - real life ones as opposed to people who ship age gap ships - are subhuman and deserve the death penalty. I had an aneurysm giving him a talk about human rights.)

People... when I said I used ao3, I didn't just mean I wrote funny things on there. I have read horrors beyond my comprehension and there are doubtless more of them awaiting my reading list. No amount of moralising disgust will have me agree with you that certain topics don't deserve to be written or read by certain demographics (but the children! - I can't believe they're also parroting right-wing talking points as a group of self-proclaimed progressives). I don't remember where I saw it, but I did manage to change one mind by quoting that post that said a librarian is not responsible for curating who borrows what book, such as not stopping a child from borrowing A Song of Ice and Fire.

I'm just in disbelief at the various debates I've had like this among real people. Half of them aren't even what you would call "internet-savvy", and I highly doubt they've been online in ways that makes them terminally online. It seems to have just leaked into the general consciousness in very concerning ways.

It leaks into the mainstream from fundies, not fandom.

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randomgirlblogger · 2 months ago

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Important.

I fucking hate those Tumblr blogs with sexual, provocative usernames that reblog or post pictures of oversexualized grown women in child underwear that are being tied with ropes, sticking out their tounges in a specific manner or literal cutscenes from adult movies with #coquette, #Lana's God, #daddy or #girlblogger, underneath because every time I see those blogs, it's runned by a kid or a grown fucking ass man.

And you're not "cool, grown up, Lana style" because you're getting the attention from a crusty, old preditor. You don't need a "daddy". You need to study for your upcoming math exam for God's love. Stop sexualizing your CHILDHOOD because it won't do you any good. You're a kid. Act like it.

You're 13. Those stuff are not for you. Get off Tumblr because there aren't only "Lana coquette girlbloggers" around but actual pedos that aren't hiding. Think about your safety first before any aesthetic. Because I see y'all posting pictures of yourselves too on those blogs and people sending you asks for "face reveals" or whatever. Who do you think is asking you this stuff? Not to mention those nasty asks like "Can I groope you?" when there's your age written in the top post or your bio saying you're a MINOR.

I don't care if you're 17, 15, or 13 (YES, SAW A BLOG LIKE THIS A SEC AGO). That's not for you. It doesn't matter that you're "mature for your age", whatever that means because lemme tell ya: you're NOT. That's why stuff like this and others have age restrictions. It affects your undeveloped brain and changes the way it develops. And your braind fully develops at the age of 25 - a healthy brain. Some take longer because of trauma or chronic illnesses. Pornography destroys your brain, and there are LITTERAL studies about that. I don't care if it's just a photo or whatever it might be. It still affects you. Subconsciously. Not to mention that it makes you numb when it comes to femicide or woman being abused.

I don't mean stop posting aesthetic pictures on the internet, but post AGE APPROPRIATE stuff. You have cute blogs with pictures of old cathedrals, antic knick knacks, and beautiful 90's models. Stick to that.

As a matter of fact, none of those pictures belong to any hashtags especially on apps used by minors, but ACTIVELY choosing those where the majority of users are MINORS is beyond and only presents your predatory behavior as an adult. Because that's what you are. A PEDOPHILE. "MDNI", "If you're underage-" SHUT IT! It won't help. That's not a place for sexual content. I don't care what TW you'll put into your bio. There are KIDS on this app. 13, 15, 17 year olds. Not to mention they can create a fake account or just lie about their age. Your "DNI" won't help.

And for my adult girlbloggers: don't post sexualized adult women in childs clothes for God's sake. Or sexual content in general. What do you need it for? Can't you see that it's making more harm than good? "Oh, yeah. This picture of a half nacked woman in pink underwear that is being abused and tied up that's also a screenshot from an adult video is going to match my profile aesthetic well". GTFO!

I'm not going to go into depth about grown men/ women using hashtags where the main audience/the majority is underage girls. Fuck off. Grow up. It's not a place for it. Think about the kids you're harming with your stupid ass behavior, you pedophile. Because I don't believe that you don't notice those minors. You simply don't care or, what's worse, you care and make them your target audience.

There are websites and apps where, let's put it that way, those pictures and films "belong" (unfortunately). There's enough porn in television, music, books, etc., etc. We, as humans, especially underage girls and boys, are absorbing things we see subconsciously. You won't even notice. It shapes your brain, your views, and your life even as an adult with fully developed (let's hope) brain. Why would you let control it by something like that? This ain't "aesthetic". It ain't "cool".

Grow up and get a life. Or at least read about the influence of porn on human brains (spoiler-allert it's scientifically making you dumber and it shows). Stop putting sexual content where it doesn't belong. Stop exposing kids to sexual content. Stop harming them.

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possumsinpeoplesuits · 1 year ago

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So, every once in a while, I have to rant about something online before I just start blabbing to some poor unfortunate Wendy's employee about niche internet pornography. Sometimes in the middle of that rant I realize I might be onto something, and have to share it with others who might benefit.

Today, that subject is the Omegaverse, and the squandered potential for worldbuilding therein.

Now, this post is gonna have some very broad generalizations about the genre, because while I'm certain there's plenty of authors who do put a lot of thought into the pedantic details I'm about to have a Category 5 Autism Event about, it's been difficult to find them amongst a sea of painfully mediocre fics.

For every stellar Locked Tomb Omegaverse fic set in a modern day Taco Bell (Seriously, I want to engrave Double the Meat onto a satellite and launch it into space so that extraterrestrials can see the peak of human civilization) there's like... a million and one Alpha Male/Omega Female pairings written by Conservative Mormon housewives that dare to ask such questions as "What if a man and a woman could have a baby?" and "What the hell is consent?"

But I'm not here to be mentally ill about yet another space being drowned in heteronormativity. Nor am I gonna be a dick about the first fics written by teenagers who're just dipping into fan communities, because my terminally online since the age of 11 ass would be a huge hypocrite for that.

No, instead I'm here to talk about genitals, and deliver just enough sciencey technobabble to justify my passionate opinions about the potential of what is, ostensibly, werewolf porn.

So, for those who've somehow gotten through all these paragraphs but have zero idea what the Omegaverse is, the basic gist is that there are three sex categories that're separate and occur within the usual sexes that humans already have. Effectively, this means that male, female, and intersex individuals can also be Alphas, Betas, or Omegas.

So, to understand these categories, there's a pretty simple rule. Alphas can get Omegas pregnant, regardless of physical sex. Sometimes Alphas are bigger than normal, and Omegas are more petite, but that's not quite as much of a core "rule" to follow, and more just dependent on people's tastes. Betas usually follow standard human dimorphism, though I have seen some people headcanon them as a sort of halfway point between Alpha and Omega.

There's some more details, too, like the presence of knotting (where the base of the penis swells and prevents pulling out during orgasm), heat cycles and rut (where the mating instinct goes into fucking overdrive in the most literal sense), pheromones, bite marking, and sometimes that whole... imprinting thing from Twilight.

So, taking this all into account... Omegaverse fiction has the potential for a BARE MINIMUM of 6-9 SEXES before even taking the vast spectrum of gender identities and presentations into account.

Do you see what I'm on about now? When our society is still struggling with the concept of being nonbinary, and barely ever even acknowledges intersexuality as existing, any Omegaverse setting would be radically different on a biological, psychological, and sociological level.

Can ya see now why I get frustrated when it gets stripped down to compulsive heterosexuality with wolf dicks?

Now, with all the standard tropes laid out like this, we get back to the question that started this all, the question that should be a no brainer when it comes to smut... What them genitals look like? What does a female Alpha, or a male Omega have down there? I have three concepts in mind, and explanations on how they could work from a scientific perspective that's just barely not bullshit enough to overcome suspension of disbelief!

So, the first thought, and the one that initially appeals to me as a nonbinary person... they just look trans. This concept is really simple to work with, because we can just look at real life trans people and just tweak things a little bit. Maybe primary and secondary sexual characteristics operate independently naturally, or maybe there's HRT for it. It's a pretty common method, too, and I enjoy seeing it... but it feels like it needs something more?

Don't get me wrong, this one's basically my personal gold standard for shorter Omegaverse stories, especially fanfiction, but it's also just... swapping parts around. Great for ease of access, but hard to differentiate from the trans experience. Definitely a go-to if you want to play with transition in an alternate society, though.

For the other two, I have to explain a bit about fetal development and reproductive organ equivalents. Also a bit of genetics, too, because it's where we're gonna fuck around and build a lot of theoretical bullshit around a little bit of real knowledge.

So! Some of you may have heard that every fetus starts as female, but might not know some of the mechanisms at work when that changes, and how finicky they can be. This is also fun to throw at TERFs, because ambiguity throws a wrench in the simplistic arguments of reactionary bigots. :)

So, the usual arrangement of sex determining genes is often simplified to XX=female and XY=male. This leaves out other variations like Klinefelter syndrome (XXY) which affects 1 in 500 people under the AMAB umbrella, causing some degree of infertility, autism symptoms, and a somewhat androgynous body shape. (I've been checked for this one! It came up negative, but reading about it was enlightening.)

Now, the presence of a Y chromosome (usually) causes the proto-organs to change function, and develop into the male-aligned reproductive systems at roughly, say... 6-8 weeks? (Unless, of course, there a deficiency in the 5α-Reductase enzyme, which causes a delay in some of this process, resulting in a child that appears female, then just... grows a dick during puberty when the higher levels of testosterone overcome the deficiency and finish off the primary sexual trait development.)

Hey, wanna know the fun thing? Even that is an oversimplification. The whole Y chromosome doesn't mean shit unless the sex-determining region Y gene is in the right place. It can just... fuck off and attach to the X chromosome. If this mutation occurs in XY individuals, it causes Swyer's syndrome, resulting in a female aligned reproductive system that just doesn't include functioning ovaries, just purposeless ambiguous gonads. Pair that fucky X chromosome with another X chromosome, and you get a male with XX chromosomes.

Plus, if someone has a faulty androgen receptor? Well, partial androgen insensitivity can leave things ambiguous, but if it just doesn't work at all? Yeah, everything will develop along the female blueprint, despite the fact that the gonads are testes.

I swear this is still about the porn.

So, with the information we have about these real, existent conditions, we have a good idea of reproductive development, and the mechanisms at play. Now, there's still some theory that's not been definitively proven yet, but the current consensus on the primary sexual equivalents are as follows:

The clitoris forms into the penis, while the vaginal canal doesn't form.

The ovaries become testes, or stay as undefined gonads.

The salpinx become the vas deferens (these are the tubes that transfer eggs or seminal fluids, respectively. More on this later.)

And finally, and the most theoretical, the uterus is believed to become the prostate. (There's sometimes a little pocket, or divot in the prostate, and the arrangement makes sense, but it's still up for debate.)

But how do we use this for our fuck fics, you ask? How do we take your failed medical career, and translate it into Destiel's babies ever after? Well, it's quite simple! We just have to add the bullshit!

So, most alterations to the SRY gene or the androgen receptor tends to just wholesale alter the whole array, and the midway point usually results in infertility and difficulty with sexual function, but what if we could change this? What if, for the purpose of our fiction, we can mix and match everything, and somehow make it all functional and neat? Well, fasten your fuckin' seatbelts, because we're finally at the theories I made while delirious due to a combination of sleep deprivation and the after effects of eating an entire ice cream cake to myself over the weekend.

So, the firmest idea, and the idea I'll be using because I am WAY too deep into this to not write Omegaverse unironically, is what I've dubbed the Primary/vestigal system for f!A and m!O characters.

So, this theory would require that we shove two things into suspension of disbelief. One, we have to completely fuck with androgen and estrogen receptors to mix and match the development of primary and secondary sexual characteristics. Two, I have absolutely no idea how you'd be able to tell when this is going to occur. Maybe genetic testing, or maybe it's just a surprise? Depends on your style of story.

Effectively, we'd base this off the delayed primary sexual characteristic development mentioned above. Alpha Females would operate similar to the real thing, being born looking typically female, before puberty hits and the Alpha genes take over for the genital development, while secondary characteristics still follow a feminine shape. Maybe the gonads stay inside, but function as testes? Sure, sperm production is more effective around 1-2 degrees lower than normal body temperature, but it doesn't stop entirely.

For Omega Males, the process would occur in reverse. Maybe the testes just change course and go back into the abdomen to become ovaries, or maybe they don't descend at all and the first clue this is happening would just be finding a vaginal canal forming?

I like this one primarily because it feels like a less 1 to 1 allegory for being queer, but still feels kind of relatable? You can, of course, still have the end result resemble the first method mentioned waaaaay up past the sciencey bits, but I kind of like the idea of there being a vestigial remnant of the birth parts left behind. I like the ambiguity, and the chance to explore how this would affect someone appeals to me.

Now, my last theory is mostly for the lulz, but this must be DOCUMENTED for POSTERITY'S SAKE.

So, Omegaverse started with m/m shipping with mpreg, right? Well, a lot of the earlier fiction just... describes typical cis male anatomy, with zero explanation for exactly how this is all occurring. There's just... anal sex, and then that somehow forms babby.

Well, what if I told you that I've figured it out? See, remember how I mentioned that the prostate is theoretically what became of the fetal uterine tissue? Guess where the prostate is? Guess. GUESS.

THE ASS IS WHERE!

So, we just have to bullshit the prostate back into a functioning uterus, but leave the placement in close proximity to the anus. Now, the other problem is that that would mean that there's an opening leading to the colon, which... look, I have no idea how birds and lizards keep their cloaca from getting infected, but connecting other tracts to the asshole doesn't usually end well.

So, we have to find a way to seal it up when not in use. Now, the cervix serves this purpose in the real world, opening to let in fluids, or let out discharge or, y'know... a baby, but that's really expensive so most of us settle for having a breeding kink that we never act on, and instead impose on our favorite blorbos who don't have to pay for health insurance.

But still, even with a butt-cervix, bacteria's still likely to get in, so we need a firmer block. I've suggested a little flap like the epiglottis in the throat as a second line of defense. If it can protect your trachea from wayward chicken nuggets, then hey! It might not be terrible for keeping sepsis at bay!

Unfortunately, layering extra protection over the bussy business zone ain't gonna cut it. Hell, as self cleaning as the vagina is, infections happen all the damn time, even if your hygiene is good. So, we need to take that self cleaning nature, apply it to the bussy business zone, and crank it up to eleven. Just constant mucousal discharge, pushing all the bad back out.

So, yeah. Your favorite Omega Man'll have a rectal womb covered with a secondary internal assflap that's constantly discharging a steady stream of slime (just consider it free lube!), but if you can make it past that, you can live your dreams of gettin' that bussy mpregged by cumming in they gay ass. Then they'd just kinda... poop out the baby, presumably.

So there you have it! Three in-depth explorations of how Omegaverse genitals can work! I'm gonna go take my psych meds and fucking SLEEP.

#omegaverse #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o verse #a/b/o au #mpreg #mpregnancy #worldbuilding #I'm so tired that sunlight hurts #We are all god's forgotten neopets #Mmm mirtazepine tastes like sleep.

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