#sex work mention tw

[witchsofia]

His Night Off || Neylani&Sofia

"You still picking me up?" Sofia asked as she held her phone to her ear outside the strip club, the girl wrapped up in one of Roman's jackets she'd stolen from the security room and smoking by the back entrance, cigarette in her opposing hand. Despite the coverage of his coat it was obvious she worked there from the platform heels strapped to her ankles, the glitter that coated her thighs and the make-up she wore that made her lips glisten and her brown eyes seem more seductive. No one needed to see the lingerie beneath to understand she was an employee.

Sofia tightening her grasp on the jacket as she listened to his answer, crossing one heel over the other. "You should have come to work if you wanted a show, Roman," she responded to his taunting with her, the words cold by her tone soft, a slight smile appearing on the edge of those shining lips. Despite the vulgarities he was uttered she couldn't stop herself, cheeks creating a natural pink in the evening light that showed the way he did not quite make her embarrassed but made her...excited.

"Fuck off," she laughed, a gentle eye roll. He was just a hook up, That's what she told herself, while wearing his jacket and wondering how long she might get to stay this time. "Just pick me up at like three, Roman, the later you are the longer you wait," she insisted before he said goodbye and she brought the phone down, along with the chain that wrapped around her wrist made of various shaped beads for it.

It was only once the phone was down she noticed someone looking at her who was not a customer hoping to convince her for some off the clock action, or, at least, Sofia didn't get those vibes from her. "You need something, honey?" Sofia asked, shoving her phone away, cigarette lingering in her opposing hand, smoke drifting from it.

@angstfactory

[violet-lamerton]

STARTER: Milvi & Violet LOCATION: Supernaturals STATUS: CLOSED

It was another standard day at the club, although things were a little more quiet than usual which Violet definitely preferred. While it was fun to be the centre of attention and to have heaps of clients to entertain, it did get tiring, and this way Violet could take the time really scope people out. She’d been doing her usual set up on the stage, lean figure bending and circling the pole as her eyes roamed over the few people who were watching her when they landed on an unfamiliar female face. She looked beautiful, although quite young, her red hair flowing over her shoulders in easy waves. Her expression was one that betrayed her nerves, and Violet’s heart softened as she looked at her. Once her set was done, she made her way over to the woman, slipping into the seat next to her and touching her gently on the shoulder. “Hey you… is this your first time here?” she asked softly, a sultry smile on her face as their eyes met. 

@milvimurray​ 

[opheliasflood]

perhaps the only good thing to come out of what had happened was the suddenly lack of people mulling around opulence, many adjusting to their own personal new normals - ophelia was one of those humans now given something akin to a superpower. that was why she was glad for the scarcity of people, for people thought so loudly she’d come to avoid areas with more than a handful of people in them. the blonde had yet to return to supernatural’s, afraid of hearing some of those men’s thoughts as she twirled around the pole. the blonde had donned the cardigan her good friends had bought her at the founders day event, a pair of jeans and trainers as she walked home from a late shopping trip.

a voice, then, not like one she had ever heard. it licked the inside of her mind, tantalising, raw with need and it made ophelia jump with how suddenly it called out to her. that wasn’t thinking loudly, that was projecting, the same voice speaking a thousand things at once in a frenzy large enough to make her head ache with its ferocity.

the blonde whipped round, looking for to whom in belonged. there was only one other, walking near her yes but that gaze - intense. so intense, it might sear her flesh and it so plucked up into bumps. but those eyes belonged to a face familiar, for she had only seen it a day or so prior. thalia, with whom she had shown how to play hook a duck.

“hey, tal,” she greeted, perhaps overly friendly. she felt nervous. so fucking nervous. “you get out of the...founders day okay?”

@thalia-stone​

[yashicanandarchive]

⌝ "Little Fionn?" Yash asked, leaning in front of the chair where the young boy sat in the club. It was relatively late in the night, the music was going and mostly naked dancers wandered the club asking if people wanted private dances, while those on the stage moved for the money that customers on the edge placed before them. The air smelt like sex and axe body spray, glitter was on the laps of most inside and while Yash typically expected to see Ryden stopping by for Mars, Gabe who practically drooled over Sofia, and Raffy who seemed to preference Violet, she did not expect to see the grown up face of one of her old friends little brothers.

⌝ Smile on her face she moved closer to make sure that the distinct jaw was indeed that of Fionn Christie, Yashica not having seen him or his sisters in...well...at least four or five years...something like that. It wasn't like she and his sister had been crazy close but like most in the small town everyone was close enough to go to each other's parties and to talk in classes with one another.

⌝ "Are you and your family back in town?" she cooed, looking between him and the half naked girl on the stage. "You're so grown up. No more acne," she praised, perhaps not the type of compliment the young man wanted.

@fionnchristie

[sirensofiaarchive]

Is it true you're going to stop working at the club? Who will I give my dollars to after you leave, mamacita?

"I'm not leaving, baby. I couldn't just abandon my favourites when you treat me so well."

[taleswrittena]

@multusmusae sent ‘I can’t tell if that was arrogant or just … you know, honest.’ ( @ klaus hargreeves from john constantine. )

renegade starter meme thingy||accepting

It's amazing what some eyeliner, heels, and not giving a shit gets them. Dirty looks from bigots and people chasing after them because they want them.

She knows she's attractive, with the leather pants with lace all up the sides and the heeled leather boots she wears, along with the graphic crop top that reads "Satan Made Me Do It" across the front, revealing flesh without a care in the world. She certainly sticks out like a sore thumb and she doesn't give a shit.

Lips curl up in a teasing smirk at the man who sits down beside him at the bar. His eyes travel towards the man who is sulking, walking away from him with an air of defeat about him. A guy who tried to get into Klaus' pants. Grumbling insults Klaus' way, talking about "fine. don't even know what you are anyway" which only serves to amuse him. Oh, how he loves confusing people with his gender identity.

Usually, she doesn't mind, but she's tired of sleeping with people that don't catch her eye tonight. Just enough to make a little money and get the drugs she often craves.

She's done with that tonight.

John must have caught the "Sweetheart, you couldn't afford or handle me." that they had told the poor bastard walking away from them.

He glances down at the glass in front of him full of whiskey. Probably not the greatest idea to mix booze and drugs that he doesn't even know what the hell they are, but he goes for it anyway, hand with 'goodbye' written over the palm picking up his glass and head tilting back to down the drink all in one go.

Finally, she turns her gaze back to Constantine. If she's aware of how constricted her pupils seem, she doesn't seem to care. "Maybe a bit of both." The grin on her face only widens as she gives John a once-over.

"What about you, mystery man? Can you afford or handle me? Buy a girl a drink and maybe I'll lend you my time."

[ezhilbharath]

Ezhil nodded, a smile on his face. “That makes sense.” He didn’t comment however on whether or not he was just flattering her, clearly she wasn’t interested in modelling for another person, so if thinking she was being flattered made her the happiest: he’d comply. He was happy at least that his offer was taken lightly, with the hearty laugh that rung through his brain. He wished to know what it meant, but for now he was just happy to have heard it. 

For a moment the Artist frowned, then returned his smile. She misunderstood him, but he wasn’t sure how to flip the switch in her head that that wasn’t how he meant it. So he waved it off. “Not how I meant it, but I’d gladly be shouted for a drink.” He touched his moustache in a moment of self-consciousness, before dropping his hand back down to his side. The idea of salivating over big men and women made him feel sick in his stomach, but he could flag the reason why she said it. He wondered if people who said they liked skinny people got the same type of response. 

He grinned. “That’s a given, and also easy,” he said. He was glad for a home cooked meal, but there were plenty of Indian restaurants in the UK, and if you found the right ones, they’d have traditional food. The Artist held up his hands. “Alright, maybe for the best, I’m not sure the spells are 100% trustworthy either, since they were given to me by a witch.” And meant for the protection of his own family. Luckily he’d never had to use them.

Sofia certainly did not desire to be eaten, looked at she was not exactly seeking but she felt it was simply sort of silly when people pretended like she wasn't attractive. It was like pretending you didn't like the music you listened to simply because it charted, it was so juvenile. At his suggestion of drawing her she laughed herself, not hearty but sort of surprised by their gaul. "I'm already someone's muse," she responded. "But if you're just flattering me I'll take it."

"Ah," she let out. Sofia was cautious, she knew how people could be, how they acted about her. Sexualising someone for their size, well, in her mind it was no better than people sexualising her for her skin colour or youth, she hoped his tone was more villainising than his actual feelings. Preference and sexualisation were two sides to a very thin line. "Well my Abuelita doesn't need some short dude with a creepy mustache tryin' to grind up on her, try the strip club, we have big men and women who will happily take your twenty quid for you to salivate over them," she responded. "I'll even be nice and shout you a drink."

She shrugged at the notion Indian food was better though, certainly it had been all she'd been eating since she arrived but also finding good Mexican food in the UK was impossible without begging her sister to cook. "Certainly better than cold meat pies," she conceded. "You can talk about our grandmother's all you like though, I still wouldn't trust a werewolf to give me a spell to avoid werewolves, not that I've found any witches to be more trustworthy." It actually felt rather the opposite, but even if Nish offered her something she would not have believed him, she'd have assumed it was a trick by the council, to leave her exposed, so she would need them.

[sirensofiaarchive]

Hey sexy, call me? 😏

"Pay me."

[springbandit]

"Well, just don't pick a stupid name like Farm again. People won't know what you are if you mess it up twice." He wasn't an overly creative type and hadn't thought of anything to offer to help him rename the Farm. When it boiled down to it, he didn't really care what it was called. His thought of it being stupid was only one of passing when it was brought up to him directly. Any other time, it wouldn't have entered his head at all. "I don't know, man. That sounds like you're gonna make me wear a dress and sell me to perverts." he smirked, chuckling at the idea. He didn't exactly hate it. But, when had he ever been someone who had sound opinions of anything? "I'm not saying no. But, it's a hazy maybe, alright?" He rolled his eyes as the conversation turned from something exciting to something he was all too familiar with. "I mean, it's not all bad. But, I don't want to feel things about my parents." he paused for a moment, before following it up with a juvenile "It's too sad." Stu felt everything very strongly. It was what made him love so strongly and cry so bitterly. His greatest strength and most idiotic weakness. Always the fool. "Your sister's probably using you, man. That's what girls do. You can trust me, I've spent a lot of time with them. I can practically get inside their heads." He nodded in agreement to follow him. If there was a chance he'd get to kill someone, anything else was worth putting up with.

"... IT'S A LITTLE BIT TOO LATE FOR THAT, CONSIDERING THAT IS ALL THAT WE ARE KNOWN FOR, BUT.. i suppose that i can try to make that happen. a new name for us here. maybe that would be a good thing," not that he was changing it, but.. perhaps, changing the image would have been a good thing. "and maybe you do. i could help with that, if you'd like? starting over.. new look, new life, new name. all of that can happen if you join us?" was this what he usually did? yes, it was and.. it usually worked and so, right now, he did not have anything to complain about. truly, he did not. "no? and why do you think that's a bad thing, i mean? feeling things?" was he almost interested to hear this? yes.. maybe. "well, that was not my sister. she cares about me," true. "then.. follow me?" @springbandit

[violet-lamerton]

Do you enjoy your profession?

Absolutely! It’s hard work - it’s super physical so it’s pretty tiring, and sometimes the clients aren’t the nicest, but the good definitely outweighs the bad. It’s not my forever job, but I’m loving it for right now.

[m-ayo-o]

seeingdouble ɘldυobϱniɘɘƨ

KINKTOBER IV: DRUGGED starring: f!reader, megumi [25+], toji [mid 40s] synopsis: megumi is led down a dark path by his assassin father. his moral compass askew, lacking any real social experience, he's left to his own devices with a cute girl. thankfully, toji shows up in time to take control. warnings: murder, violence, spiking, drug use: narcotics + psychedelics. stripper!reader [who sometimes offers sex work]. virgin!megumi. restraints. choking. unprotected sex. incest [pussy sharing, dp, anal] guidance. non-con; reader starts to enjoy it [she is drugged] wc: 4.5k

⋆⁺/ don't like it? block it / do not interact i do not condone taking drugs. spiking is illegal. this is fiction

18+ EXPLICIT SEX | DARK CONTENT | HORROR THEMES

When Toji’s wife passed he managed to sell off his daughter to the notorious Zenin clan for a pretty penny, but decided to keep the ten shadows boy for himself. 

Without his wife, daughter and clan, Toji’s life spiralled out of control and he took Megumi down with him. 

Toji left everything behind, so did Megumi.

Toji became invisible, so did Megumi. 

He corrupted him and dragged him into a cursed life of killing for money. 

Leaving his boy in cheap, dusty hotels, Toji would go out to commit murder– it was as simple as grocery shopping for him, only returning home with his shirt all bloody and ripped. Young Megumi would eye his clothing curiously, his gaze wide and innocent, but would be too scared to utter a word. He knows his father has a terrible temper.

This routine continued until Megumi got older, into his late teens, when Toji thought it would be appropriate to start telling the young man about what he did. Then in his early twenties he started taking him along on his sinister missions, hunting. Lacking any formal education or training, he doubted his son would be of any use. 

But Megumi had become intelligent and strong in his solitude, reading for entertainment and experimenting with his powers, his shikigami the only life forms to keep him company.

Despite his independence, having Toji as his only guiding light led the younger man to have a somewhat twisted view on reality, and as far as sound moral judgement goes, he simply does not possess it. 

As an assassin, Toji likes a quick kill; clean and efficient, usually with a gun or a knife. He can get paid faster that way, delivering the body swiftly and avoiding any trouble.

But he’s noticed his son taking a liking to finishing his victims more personally.

⁺⋆

Another murderous evening had drawn to a close, their hands stained red once again, when he carelessly took his eyes off his son and their victim.  

A young, powerful sorceress who’d seemingly pissed off the wrong crowd. Still, a surprisingly easy target for the assassin in training.

“Megumi, s’time to go,” the older man wipes his knife and cautiously looks along the alleyway.

His son is unresponsive. 

Toji gets closer, squinting in the dark to find his hands wrapped around her neck. 

She’s still alive, barely, but clinging on nonetheless, fading in and out of consciousness. 

“What are you doing? Just– just fucking–” 

“Wait”

The younger man’s stern voice halts Toji from slitting her throat.

And he watches his son squeeze the life out of the young woman. 

His lips twitch when her eyes roll back. But still, his hand remains over her windpipe, feeling her pulse die when the last breaths escape her body. 

“Megumi. We need to go.”

His son finally pulls away, and they become invisible once more. 

Despite his grisly methods, not only did Megumi prove useful, but their missions also provided for some much needed father-son bonding time. 

So, with his son reaching 25 years old, they got into this gruesome habit together, becoming partners.

Another habit Megumi picked up from the older man was his tendency to visit strip clubs after their kill. They were great places to hide, especially if you knew the owners well enough. And Toji knew each and every member of staff in this place; the managers, the bar staff, the girls.

And he knew a certain pretty little girl very well indeed.

Despite his many visits he never made any inappropriate advances, only paid to watch you dance. Maybe a lap dance every now and again if he was feeling particularly self gratuitous.

You share few words, but seem to have a mutual understanding of one another. You know that he loves watching you, and you’ve come to like his stern demeanour and surprisingly respectful attitude, enjoying his ability to scare off creepy customers. He’s kind of like your personal bodyguard at work. You feel lucky to have met him.

Unlike some of the halfwit scumbags that frequent the club, he’s a real man. From his assertive, deep tones, those muscles, perfect for manhandling little girls like you, and those sharp eyes, staring as if he wants your body as much as you want his.

But you have no idea what he does for work– he almost seems nocturnal.

Then you notice that he starts bringing someone else to the club.

His younger brother? His son? You can’t tell. But you know for certain that they’re related as soon as they step in together– their hair is styled differently, but is the same absolute black. The strobe lighting illuminates different colours in the younger man’s eyes, but they have the same glare. Their faces are a slightly different shape, but they have the same wicked smile. 

How could there be two of him? One was already enough.

“Meet my son.” 

Oh. He might be the same age as me. You think, studying his features– bags under his eyes, more height than muscle, cheeks slightly sunken. 

His exchanges are awkward. He looks uncomfortable.

You offer him a dance, not knowing what else to do. You’re here to work, after all.

Toji pays for a private dance and you walk with his son to a booth, the older man giving him a wink and a devilish smile.

You draw the curtains and pause, looking at the way he’s fidgeting. 

“Got a girlfriend?”

“No,” he replies tersely, narrowing his eyes. 

You ask if he wants a lap dance, but he’s so hesitant that you just end up sitting next to him and chatting instead.

“So, do you enjoy working here?” he sounds less nervous now he’s gotten to know your name, at least. 

“Yeah, nice customers for the most part, but the hours are pretty long.”

“Same with my job– the hours, I mean.”

“You don’t work with the public?”

“Sort of…” he trails off, dark eyes darting over your features.

You notice, despite your clothing revealing most of your body to him, that he’s focusing on your lips more than anything.

“You’re um,” he takes a long pause, dragging his gaze back to your eyes, “very pretty.”

How sweet. Your eyes widen slightly, a smile forming on your lips. You’re not used to sweet. 

“Th-thank you.” you can’t help the stuttering– the way he’s looking at you with sudden intensity catches your tongue.

“Shall we–” you reach to open the curtain of the private booth, your arm caught in his strong grip, your body freezing. 

“You– you can’t touch me–” does he not know that?

“Sorry” he retracts his hand, fiddling with his fingers. 

“You change your mind or something?”

“No, I just wanted to… look at you, for a little longer,” you turn to face him again, “if that’s ok.”

So you nod and sit down.

He has a hungry look in his eyes now– he starts with your face, your eyes, in fact, making incredible, unwavering contact until you can’t take it, your pupils darting away to his amusement. Then he finds your mouth, and the way you’re chewing the inside of your cheek.

Then your neck, where he focuses intently on the slow thrum of your jugular. He licks his lips, making you squirm and wish he would’ve accepted the lap dance.

His gaze darts over the rest of your body and you watch the clock tick over to midnight, signalling fifteen minutes and the end of his private… whatever the fuck this was.

“Time’s up.” You stand and reach for the curtain, feeling his eyes remain over your figure as you step out and waltz back to the changing rooms. 

You get off early tonight, having a final smoke with your colleagues when you see a text pop through from Toji. After exchanging numbers months ago, he barely contacts you, only asking where you are if you’re not at your regular shift.

[00:14] Toji 

Come over?

You’re surprised he’s asking. 

You’re tempted– after all, it is for Toji. You’ve been wanting him to reach out to you, thinking that he would’ve made his move much sooner. Every cell in your body is telling you not to do this, but you ignore the feeling, finding his hotel.

You enter the room– luckily for you, in a slightly nicer establishment than usual– still, one that is filled with the smell of alcohol and cannabis, the TV blaring on some late night gambling channel.

So they sit you down, welcoming you into their little games and bets, offering you hard liquor and joints till you’re tipsy. 

After Toji’s multiple visits to your workplace, and seeing you at other clubs with your friends, he knows you’re into all kinds of drugs. 

He caught you with white powder under your nose on one occasion, your pupils the size of the fucking moon another night, and with a blunt hanging out your mouth after work one evening.

He’s seen it all. He knows you’re a fiend. So… what’s the harm in pushing you a little further? Surely you can take it.

⁺⋆

Your eyelids are growing heavy, your body slumped on the floor against the coffee table while you stare at the TV in stupor. Their joints were just so packed it's nearly finished you off, and the last few drags tasted kinda funny.

“Can we tie her up now?” 

You’re not sure if you heard that right, swivelling in the direction of the voice and blinking in disbelief.

You turn to find Toji with his legs spread wide, slouched back on the sofa where you left him, while the younger man stands holding some kind of cord in his hands. 

Your eyes widen, your mind jolting awake when you see the way he pulls and grips it, stepping closer to you. Your body lags. 

“Mm” Toji grunts, not taking his eyes off the TV. 

Megumi takes this as permission to pull you up and drag you to the bedroom, your legs stumbling after your body, your mind succumbing to panic. 

His hand tugs at your wrist, while you’re distracted by something strange in the edges of your vision. It’s subtle to start with, colours fading in where they weren’t before, shadows starting to move. 

You try to ignore it, blaming the weed and flickering lights playing tricks on your mind.

You’re pulled from your daze when Megumi jerks your arms roughly, your vision readjusting to find yourself on the bed, your wrists forced to the frame in a tight knot of coarse, black rope.

“Mm– Megumi,” your voice comes out more slurred than you expected, confusion crossing your features, “w-what’re you doin’...”

“What does it look like?” He shoots back, his sharp tone making you recoil.

“I, I don’ know– jus’, w-where’s Toji?”

He watches your eyes dart about, enjoying your fearful expression.

You notice a sinister glint behind his indigo irises, his face looming closer and starting to cloud your vision.

You’re squirming now, pushing yourself up the bed, trying to distance yourself from him. But he keeps coming.

“Stay still…” he stops your motions with a single cool hand closing around your ankle, dark eyes trained on your throat again.

Time stops still when he leans in and places a single, chaste kiss over your neck.

He does it slowly. Gently. As if you’re the only one he’d kiss like this. His silent intensity makes you tremble.

He pulls away with a pleased hum, the feeling of your heartbeat making his lips tingle, his dark mess of hair illuminated with a dull halo.

He’s not too far gone. You could still go back.

“Y-you don’ have to do this,” you stumble, your voice cracking.

“I know,” he presses another kiss over your jaw, becoming ravenous now he can almost smell your fear, “but I want to…”

His voice disappears into the crook of your neck, where he starts sucking and tonguing.

He wants to taste you.

There’s a deep ache inside you now, gripping at your heart and filling your lungs, where it spreads to your throat– to where you can feel his mouth over you.

Nobody has ever kissed you like this before.

The way he sucks and bites is cruel, your body starting to flood with pain. If he does it any harder you’re sure he’s going to taste your blood. He’s going to puncture your neck and let it spill.

“M-megumi– please–” your whispered sobs only urge him on, till he’s dragging his canines over you and sinking them into the soft flesh.

His impassioned movements finally ebb as he switches to tending your marked skin with his tongue and lips, inhaling your scent deeply.

He sits up now, looking longingly into your tear stained eyes, his pupils drifting to where your lips are quivering with his name.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he lies, stroking your ankles gently.

Standing up, he watches you shake your head again, begging him not to go any further and that you’d anticipated being with Toji tonight, asking where he is again.

“He’s a little busy…” he cranes his neck to ensure his father is still transfixed by the TV.

“Plus, you should be grateful,” he tugs off his belt, “you get to take my virginity.”

Your eyes fly wide, your mouth dry and gulping for air stupidly.

Just the way he looks puts you on edge– and now you know he has no experience, you can’t begin to fathom what he’s going to do to you.

“Nn-no– thought, thought Toji w-w–”

His next movements are too swift for your idle, drug induced brain to comprehend.

He’s over you, your arms twisted uncomfortably above your head, his cock nudging at the sweet bud of your clit.

That’s the only ‘foreplay’ you’ll be treated to before he slots himself up against your tight, unprepped entrance, shoving your dress and panties aside.

“Toji!!!” you cry out for the older man, “Toji, god–” but your voice is interrupted, choked by his cock sinking into you, hard and deep.

The man before you has changed, his resting scowl paling in comparison to the now fierce arch of his eyebrows.

Why are you crying for his father when he has everything you need right here?

“Ah– haah—” you shake and squirm, struggling with his untamed, crude thrusting.

Your head flies back when he pushes deeper still, slowly working your raw pussy open to the shape of him, while he watches fresh tears trickling over your waterline and gathering beautifully in the corners of your wide, glassy eyes.

“Hm,” he lets a little laugh escape, enjoying your quiet sobbing and whimpering as he gets rougher and dirtier, grabbing and marking your skin.

Your arms start to jostle and tug in the bindings, your wrists aching from the pressure.

“Untie me…” you sniffle.

“Untie you? But I haven’t even got started yet…”

He wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, trailing his hand down your face and stroking the marks on your neck.

“Might untie you after I hear you scream,” he gives you an experimental squeeze, then leans closer, bringing his face down next to yours.

The way he’s talking has you wondering if he really is a virgin, your thought quickly dispelled by his hedonistic thrusting.

You can hear his shaky breath in your ear now, your legs lifting instinctively when you feel him haphazardly pressing on your g-spot.

“Yeah, open up f’me,” he whispers, sucking on your earlobe, his free arm encircling your head to cage you in closer.

You can feel his hips start to jolt unevenly. He’s close.

“D-don– don’ cum inside,” you beg, your eyes getting bleary as he constricts your windpipe.

You feel him smirking over your skin, speeding up his ragged motions, squeezing.

Your pained breaths consume him, urging him to crush your throat with a look in his eyes that makes you believe he’s going to take your life.

His pale, beautiful face hovers above yours, eyes enrapt by every miniscule expression of terror that passes your features.

“S-s—” 

Your voice is gone, you can only fight for breath now, your body succumbing to a helpless fit.

You struggle. Kicking. Hips bucking.

He drinks it all in, thrusting mercilessly now.

“You can’t do that to her.” 

You hear a sudden deep, booming voice, hands pulled from your neck, air flooding your lungs as you sputter and cough.

Toji takes his son’s arms and bends them behind his back, restraining him instantly and pulling him off you; out of you.

He lets the sight sink in for a moment, words failing him. 

Toji’s affected by the drugs and booze, but he can still get some kind of hold on this fucked up situation.

“Look. Just let me show you… what you’re supposed to do,” he drawls into the younger man’s ear before releasing him.

Sure, he needs to take responsibility. But he can’t let you go. Not yet.

You shake your head again, watching the younger man struggling with his achy, hard boner after being denied his first raw dogging orgasm.

His father readjusts you on the bed to his own liking, leaving you tied up and taking your thighs in his beefy hands. He dips his head low, lips skimming over your neglected clit. 

“‘M feelin’ hungry…” he mutters, proceeding to swirl his tongue through your heat, where his son’s cock was digging moments ago, humming while parting your labia and licking sensually at your little jewel.

However done you are with this situation, overcome with lightheadedness from your choking, you’re glad to at least be sent reeling through a few much needed orgasms.

And now you’ve had a chance to breathe and relax a little, you’re becoming aware of a shift in your consciousness. 

Your body is right here, in this moment, experiencing every fleeting detail in high definition. But your mind is somewhere else, overcome with a feeling of simultaneous presence and dissociation. 

The older man sits up, patting the bed for his son to join him.

“You ok, doll?”

He watches you look around curiously, taking in the room that’s now bending and changing before you.

“Think the lsd’s kickin’ in…” he mutters, “just lay back, promise we’re not gunna hurt ya.”

“The-the what?” you stutter, your hands starting to tense and grip in the restraints.

“Look, there were a few drops of acid in that last wrap, jus’ relax, ok?”

Fuck. You knew you shouldn’t have come here.

You let it sink in, taking a deep breath so you don’t lose your cool. You cannot let your mind spiral on this drug.

“That’s it,” he encourages you, “good girl. Jus’ let go.”

You give up trying to fight it, obeying his gentle tones, working past the nausea to find your mind and body entering a different headspace.

Reality fades in and out, feeling their tongues on you, one after the other, switching and exchanging till you’re unaware of what’s happening to you.

You can only sense their touch, submitting your body to the chemical pleasure.

Your clothes are torn off now, soft, deep words being exchanged until you feel them shifting around.

You feel the unmistakable nudging of a hardened cock at your entrance once more. Only this time, it slips through your folds easily, your slick hole welcoming the long, hard member.

You blink slowly, your vision wobbling as your mind enters a trance in sync with their rhythm.

“Megumi?” no, “Toji?” you honestly can’t tell, your faculties slowly dulling as the powerful drug takes over.

You reach out your arms hoping to discern who’s inside you, only for their body to move away as another frame enters your view.

You feel his cock sink in, hips rolling and stimulating your senses till you’re creaming and moaning around his girth.

“T-tojii–” you’re sure it must be the older man. He feels strong, manhandling you and pushing you wider.

But he pulls away too soon.

You focus hard, seeing both of them now, one figure in front of the other, one man guiding, the other following.

“...like this… take her… deep…” you can only make out a few words, wide eyes distracted by the scar on his lips.

But the way Megumi’s cock slides in is completely different than before– the feral jackhammering transformed into long drags, smooth and hard.

They exchange words, Megumi’s movements getting greedier until you feel his body consuming yours in a display of lust and passion so strong you let out a scream of his name.

The sound of your voice, combined with the grip of your pussy that’s drenched with the slick of a fresh orgasm, rips a groan from his depths.

You hear him panting and moaning, his thrusts getting sloppy, until he’s drawn out of you again.

That was close. You think, realising his father pulled him away before he could spill inside you.

Things are getting blurry now. They’re both over you, on you, in you.

With the surreal visuals taking over, your mind enters another realm while they kiss and fuck and share your body.

Spiky black hair, blue and green eyes flashing, hard muscles and sadistic smiles are all you can see.

Their images burn into your retina, becoming a blurred mirage of nightmarish beauty. 

A sight that you will never forget.

Now that Toji’s brought his son up to speed and you’re all wet, you honestly can’t tell who is who.

So you sink into it, enjoying the spiralling visions behind your closed eyelids while they draw waves of orgasmic pleasure from your body.

They bend and move you, pinning your legs back, pushing deeper, then onto your knees. You’re getting so absorbed in the trip now, the euphoric energy taking over, that you’re only partly aware that you’re being lifted.

You’re off the bed, you know that much.

You’re in a pair of strong arms. It’s Toji. You smile, your eyes clearing to see his roguishly handsome face before you.

“Hey pretty girl,” he places tender kisses over your lips, and you accept them with pleasure, “gunna try somethin’ fun now…”

You giggle, liking the sound of that very much.

He holds you, his massive cock melting into your core so deep he’s going to become a part of you, then slides his fingers over your ass.

You feel another body behind you. Megumi.

You turn, feeling his lips over you as well, murmuring sweet praise in your ear the whole while.

You feel him sliding over your ass now, through the wet juice of your pussy, pushing into the tight ring.

“Oh, oh my– fuck–” he edges in, his father thrusting slowly while urging him to be gentle.

“Haahhh–” you breathe out, your head falling back onto Megumi’s hard shoulder where he caresses your skin with his lips.

“That’s– that’s fucking good,” he hums in your ear, pushing himself all the way back while grabbing your ass.

They cradle you, thrusting in tandem, as you reach a new level of bliss.

Hearing them, feeling them takes you higher, until you can only sense their deep moans vibrating through you, the drag of their cocks.

Your thoughts turn slippery, losing focus on the world around you, wondering how you ended up here in the first place, realising that you don’t care.

Right now, you care about the man in front of you, tall and broad, scarred lip between his teeth with dark green eyes fixed on yours.

His ever sombre stare resides behind those fiery irises.

It captivates you.

Your body is convulsing with dopamine once more, slurred thank yous leaving your lips, and all you can concentrate on is counting the shades of green in his eyes.

Flecks of amber shimmer within the emerald, his lashes blinking slowly, eyebrows quirking.

“Watcha lookin’ at?”

“Mm, pretty,” is all you can muster at this time, earning a snort of laughter.

He mutters under his breath and starts taking you harder till you feel him pulling you off his son and pushing you down on the bed.

Your legs spread, wide and obedient, holding yourself by the knees while he takes your nipples between his lips, between his teeth.

“How many times s’that now?” he feels you clenching and bucking again.

You just giggle and sigh, stroking his obsidian strands in a dreamy state.

He hums with pleasure; you feel his nose dipping into your neck, where he places soft, gentle kisses, in contrast to his now animalistic pace.

Letting off hot grunts and moans, he finally spills his hot, wet cum.

He pulls away, his son entering your vision once more.

Angling your ass up, he guides himself in again, enjoying the way your tight muscle spasms around him, but takes him all nonetheless.

His hips get nasty, drawing whimpers from you until he nears his release, growling and sinking his teeth into your marked skin.

“Fuck– fuck–” you tug at his jet black spikes, encouraging him to take all he needs until you feel his hot load shoot deep into you.

“Ugh, oh princess– fuck me–” he sighs, strong muscles overcome with exhaustion as he watches your beautiful features relax once more.

You feel peaceful, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his hair hangs over those dark eyes.

Your wavering vision absorbs his graceful figure in all his glory, your mouth opening before your brain catches up.

“Art” you poke at his hardened stomach, earning a slight smile, “artist.” You look up at his father now, appreciating the view as he stands before you.

You giggle, laying back and focusing on the ebb and flow of your breath, feeling your senses leave you, your eyes resting as you enter transcendental sleep.

⁺⋆

You wake to find your body bare, but clean.

There’s no longer white liquid oozing from you– just soft, warm sheets and the fresh smell of soap.

You climb out of the bed, stepping to the bathroom, eyes still half lidded and hazy.

You look in the mirror, finding kaleidoscopic visuals in the reflection, where the glass bends and trembles.

But you can see your face. Unscathed. Unharmed. You look down. It’s just a few bruises. You’re fine. 

Despite their questionable methods, this has been a good trip… and you have to admit, a very good fuck.

So in your giddy state, you tiptoe out to the main room, watching their heads turn from the TV, grins emerging.

“Mornin’ honey,” Toji coos. It’s dark outside. You have no idea what time it is.

You step over to the sofa, sinking between the two men again, taking their lips and tongues while their hands roam and fondle your body.

You sit back, enjoying how they’re drawn to you magnetically, allowing their pleasure to fill your body once more while you ride out the most ethereal high of your life.

⋆⁺ [see you in hell]

toji | m.list

[violet-lamerton]

What instance made you believe you liked Raffy?

One of the first times I had danced for him he asked me to sit in his lap, so I obliged, and he was so gentle. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, kissed me on the temple and thanked me. And I just- I knew.

@raffyperez

[bodhimohan]

Bodhi nodded and smiled. "And if not, there are still the biscuits," he joked. As if shortbread was some miracle working. It wasn't bad, that was for sure. "Too wonderful for you?" he asked, giving Sofia a sympathetic smile. "Surely you don't mean that in a negative sense? I'm sure he'll think the same of you, doesn't he?" Bodhi's love life wasn't - and hadn't been - filled with much love. He'd always been too busy, and he'd been everywhere too short, moving from place to place without being able to form any solid connections.

He wasn't sure if he'd stay long enough in Fenrir's Wood to do anything similar.

"I'd like to believe I'm always this nice," he said with a chuckle. "Pitiable also wouldn't be the word I'd use to describe you. In need of a pick-me-up, perhaps. Aren't we all some days." Some more than others, and it was rare for Bodhi to request the help of other people, but after what had happened in Hel's Realm, he had found that his kindness paid off.

He had to laugh at that, nodding expressively. "Funny you should say that, I think your coffee is very weak. But, you have all the ingredients, the water, the coffee." Not that he'd allow her, that would be a waste of his good coffee. He nodded at her answer, as a Britt, he could appreciate how she remained cautious, even if he saw right through it, but he supposed she expected that. "I wish, I haven't danced in years." He paused then. "I'm a private investigator," he said, hoping it wouldn't scare her away. But perhaps she had a better opinion of those than most people, seen the good tv shows that made his profession look like something noble. "Strangely enough none of my cases have yet led me through the doors of the Black Lace," he added. "And your partner? What does he do?"

♚ To explain what she thought would break herself free of the actual curse she had would mean exposing herself in a way she didn't think she should to a stranger who seemed mortal for all intents and purposes. "Maybe the biscuits will help," Sofia smiled, picking one up and smiling. "I have mostly been hoping time will do it, I mean, I met my partner, he's...he's too wonderful for me, I can't be too cursed," she reasoned a little to herself. Micah was...Sofia couldn't even explain it. How much he had saved her heart.

♚ "Are you always this nice, or am I especially pitiable?" she asked with a small smile, his presence providing great comfort. He wasn't asking anything of her, he wasn't trying to sway her mind. She felt a strong guilt she didn't know more of him and decided she would find a way to. Kind people, unselfish people, were rare.

♚ Her small smile grew as he said he enjoyed the biscuits he had offered. "Your coffee is...strong," she commented, grateful for the water he had also given her because coffee might be overwhelming the way the British seemed to make it. "I work at Black Lace as a dancer," she answered, cautious in her words not due to embarrassment but because she was polite where she could be overheard by children. "How about you? Are you also a dancer?" she joked, allowing the shift in mood to take hold, taking another sip of water.

[clangenrising]

If you don’t mind constructive criticism, I just wanna say, outright using the word “sex” is a bit inappropriate. Like, you mentioned this blog will never depict sexual content on screen, but stating that word onscreen seems a bit…much. I know the header states that there might be some content of that sort but I still think it would be better if you refrain from directly stating that word, since a notable number of your fans are minors.

I disagree. Strongly.

First of all, having frank discussions about sex is not inappropriate. Sex is a normal part of human life and the more taboo we make it the less prepared people are for actually interacting with it. Saying I shouldn't mention sex outright because some of my audience are minors is like saying there shouldn't be sex ed in schools because it would be inappropriate and that's just not true. It's been proven over and over that sex ed and discussing sex with minors in a responsible way leads to them having safer sex when they do decide to become sexually active. So no, it's not inappropriate for me to mention sex.

Secondly, how is saying the word sex any worse than strongly alluding to the fact that Razor has sexually assaulted Scorchplume? Is the latter fine just because I never say "sex" outright? Because I would argue that THAT is probably the thing that edges closest into being NSFW and it's still not inappropriate and I'm not going to stop doing either of those things because this is a story about human connections (told through cats) and that includes how they engage with sex. That's the story I want to tell and it's resonated with a lot of people and I'm not going to censor myself.

Thirdly, even if there are minors in my audience, it's not my job to control the content they engage with. Like I've said, I'm never going to depict sexual content on screen so I don't think I have to cordon my work off just because some of the characters have sex lives and talk about them sometimes. My stuff is no worse than most teen dramas anyway. If my work makes a minor uncomfortable then thats on them to stop engaging with my work. I'm not going to stop making what I want to make bevause some minors found it. Its not like i cultivated a young audience on purpose so I could show them something inappropriate. I don't think my work is inappropriate in the first place and just because it's mature doesn't mean I should change its content so its more "kid friendly" or that I need to police who is reading it.

So I won't be taking that piece of criticism. If you take constructive criticism, I would urge you to re-examine why you think saying the word sex is inappropriate and then educate yourself on why sex ed and frank discussions of these kinds of topics is important.

[violet-lamerton]

What's your favorite part of your job? Least favorite part?

My favourite part is definitely the fact that I get to get all glam and wear things that make me feel really good. Least favourite is definitely when guys don’t observe the rules and don’t keep their hands to themselves even after being reminded.

[thesofiavaldez]

♚. "I am," Sofia responded, eyes shifting to the mirror for a moment. Of course, like a human she had imperfections, she could see cellulite on aspects of her thighs, the creases around the corners of her eyes, and the lines at her throat from looking down at her phone too often but she did believe she was beautiful, more beautiful than most. "Pageants aren't about looking beautiful or being talented, they're about looking 'right' and doing certain things, it's all very inauthentic," she obviously understood why the women who participated did them, and understood for some people it did mean something but for her it had never been the right fit. "I'm a stripper actually," Sofia told them, unabashed. "I get to be beautiful and talented in a way that feels like me which people don't totally believe half the time."

♚ "It definitely felt like a lot of weight when I was little," Sofia acknowledged, not actually sure she remembered specifics, it had been so long ago and so many other things had felt like more important memories than any spent specifically with her mother. "I don't know, when I was a kid it was just about like who was the most adult kid which is obviously super creepy. You never had to do anything like that? Dress up to amuse adults? Even like for school stuff or for family events?" she asked, sort of figuring most people had some sort of moment as a child where they were like forced into 'behaving.' A tricky little word that meant not being a kid.

♚. "Why on Earth would you leave somewhere so luxe for this place?" Topher was Sofia favourite person so far, a part of her chest dreading the notion they'd part ways from the shop without having exchanged information. She loved people who were open and...just sweet, it helped her be softer. "You have to tell me your favourite colour to wear so I can keep my eyes open."

♚. At the mention they did, in fact, love Black Sabbath Sofia began to look through the shirts for the one she remembered. Sofia handed the vintage number to them before they removed themselves to change. It was everyone's business whether they felt comfortable exposed in front of other's, strangers or friends, and Sofia didn't take it personally. In her experience it was rarely ever about the audience so much as the person themselves. "You should come here my boyfriends band play, I would love to not be standing alone," she offered, yelling through whatever curtain or door was now separating them.

Topher smiled, it was always nice to hear that they were right about something, which was… rare. They felt like they’d grown up rather sheltered, living their life with what little their mother could provide, and not having a lot of stuff of their own. Their tv had been one of those monsters, and if their mom couldn’t pay the bills, there was nothing on. Though they did have their own game-cube. “What, really? But you are beautiful,” they said. “And I’m sure you’re talented as well,” they added. 

They smiled brightly, after all, having fellow people who didn’t like ballgowns fitted. They’d never been able to get in with the girly-crowd. Not that they’d wanted to, though of course… the girls they’d liked had been far more girly than most. They loved girls who wore lipstick, who wore necklaces and bangles. They felt their heart beat faster when they looked at them through stunning eyes. “Ballgowns are the big fluffy things right? I can’t imagine having to wear one of them, it sounds like a lot of weight to carry around.” They nodded at the mention of a boyfriend, yet blushed at the mention of ‘how baggy shirt hangs? hot’ it was hot. Topher figured that if Sofia thought her boyfriend was hot, then they could be hot too with their baggy shirts. “Do people at pageants have a similar style? Or do you need something that sticks out?” they asked. 

They nodded enthusiastically. “I don’t think boring British beige is for everyone, and I like colour more too uhm… even though I barely wear it myself, but I wear a lot of black,” they admitted. “I think it’s cool that you don’t need to fit in,” they said. “Yes! I’m from Liege, uhm Luik, it’s a city in the South of Belgium, the French part. I got here… six years ago. Where are you from?” 

Topher accepted the pants, they were blushing a little, not because Sofia was in her underwear again - which definitely would make them blush - but because this was so nice: doing clothing shopping with another person. “Thank you,” they said, pretty sure they were having a heart-eyes moment. “Oh uhm… I love Black Sabbath actually, I used to listen to a lot of metal,” they admitted. A lot. Now they had more mellowed out and were far more into Folk music, but metal still spoke to their soul. They looked around quickly. The good thing about being tiny was that most things were over-sized. Unlike Sofia however, Topher did not want to be seen in their underwear. They got out again wearing the same baggy pants and their own oversized black t-shirt - with an old school and rather faded pokemon image.