Passion for Fashion Part 3
Danny nervously twirls his thumbs as Dan paces before him, mumbling insults to the Waynes under his breath. They were supposed to go third in the walkway line, as it was supposed to be in alphabetical order, but just as the computation was going to begin, a disaster struck.
Tim Drake-Wayne had been kidnapped. In broad daylight, as the teenage CO-CEO was getting out of his limo, a group of men broke through the crowd, swinging guns around and demanding everyone to get on the ground and give them their valuables.
Of course, there were security who attempted to gain control of the situation, but it seemed that three of their newest hires were traitors and in on the heist. A shoot-out was ensured.
Drake-Wayne had been taken in the chaos, and Bruce Wayne had passed out from worry. He and the rest of his kids were on their way to a hospital- a secret location to deter further kidnappings of the remaining Waynes- and the first runway of the competition was canceled.
Danny hadn't seen anything from the model changing room, but Dan had forgotten his make-up bag in the front entry and had gone back for it while Danny changed. He had been front and center when the whole thing went down.
"Who just lets themselves get taken like that!?" Dan huffs, practically spitting fire. According to the ghost, Tim Drake-Wayne's actions were an act, and the teenager had been able to get away from his kidnappers but didn't.
Dan found his nonaction insulting since it paused his fashion show.
"Um, look around you? Situation awareness." Danny tells him, gesturing to the cage they had been shoved into. While the people had been preoccupied with Tim Drake-Wayne's kidnapping, a second group of men had gone in through the backdoor and taken all the models.
Danny had thought it was the staff moving them until he noticed a few people crying as they were placed into vans. In his defense, most people aren't used to seeing someone armed like he is, so the gun-waving hadn't tipped him off.
Dan had joined him later when he followed the coordinator- another traitor- to the vans, and his counterpart had only gotten upset when they took his make-up bag.
"Please, this is just metal." Dan rolls his eyes, bending the bars and straightening them out again to prove his point. Danny doesn't mention the electric buzz the bars release, as neither is really affected by the shock. It's more of an annoying light show. "Sides, it's not like we're human. Not like them."
He tilts his chin to where other models sob in their cages below. They are all waiting for their new owners to pick them up. At least, that's what Danny was able to gather from the men's taunts. They were taken by human traffickers, who had buyers look at the competition lineup and pick which model they wanted before the actual kidnapping.
Danny and Dan were in such high demand they would be sold at an auction that would take place while the rest of their pals kept the Bats busy. Danny had no idea who the Bats were or why they would save them instead of the police.
"Tell the whole world why don't you?" Danny hisses, twirling his thumbs more " If they found out what we are we could be turned over to this world version of the Guys In White."
"Oh no, I'm shaking in my human boots." Dan rolls his eyes. He resumes his pacing. "If the Waynes had taken this seriously, we could have been seeing the results of the judge's panel already."
"Dan, this is a little more important than your fashion Obsession."
"Excuse you, my Obsession is a medical condition," Dan huffs, sliding down the cage bars, and for a brief second, his hair flickered to white before it settled back into black. A flash of pain crosses his face. "My core is killing me."
Danny winces. "Right, sorry, that was insensitive. How about I steal you some paper and pens so you can design a ball gown?"
"I like that."
Danny turns to the bars, bending them open and closing them behind him. He carefully makes his way across the giant shipping crates, to an office at the top right corner.
They are at the docks, hidden somewhere in a warehouse among many crates that will be shipped out, and Danny is honestly a little offended they have yet to be found. Sure, the kidnappers had driven through the sewers on a strangely built road that led them here, but surely someone would have noticed the apparent fact the van disappeared at a fake dead alley?
Weren't there cameras in almost every corner of the city? Dan had warned Danny about them while doing his Obsession-driven research, and both agreed not to Go Ghost while in public due to them.
Now, they could escape, but Danny wasn't kidding about the Guys in White or whatever their equivalent was here. He would rather know what level of competence they have before he makes any rash moves.
Danny also wants to see his fellow models' buyers, and he would like to have a word with them. His ghost Obsession may not be protection- much to the shock of many- but Danny has always had a moral compass that pointed to protecting others around him.
Dan knew and respected this about him, so his counterpart was willing to sit and wait for the buyers. He's just a little angsty since it disrupted his obsession.
Danny grimly peeks into the office window when he sees the coordinator talking on a phone. There doesn't seem to be anyone else around, so he carefully opens the door and creeps up behind the man.
"-If you ever want to see your son again," The man is saying, smirking. Danny can't see it due to the man facing away from him, but he can hear it in his voice.
On the desk is a laptop that repeats what he said only, the sound sounds robotic and unrecognizable. Is that a voice changer? "I suggest you ask Batman to find your boy before it's too late."
Batman? The man they were supposed to help save his humanity?
Danny knows it's a risk, but this is too much of a chance to pass up. He carefully picks up the office chair and brings it down hard on the disgusting man's head. The coordination lets out a chocked grunt of pain, but he's out like a light when he hits the ground. His phone flies across the floor, and a voice is heard speaking urgently.
Danny ties the man to the bolted-down desk using zip ties- the same ones they had used on him and the rest earlier that day, before picking up the phone.
"Hello? Is this Batman?" Danny asks, jumping slightly when the laptop repeats him in a creepy robotic voice. "Wait hold on, I think I can get rid of this voice thingy."
"...what?" A man asks over the phone, but Danny pays him no mind as he tries to click some boxes.
"Hello, testing one two three," Danny says, wincing when the voice changer makes him sound high and unnaturally squeaky. He sounds like he's trying to audition for Alvin and the Chipmunks. "Hello? Hello? Wait, I think I got it."
"Who are you? Where is Tim?" The man asks, and Danny almost rolls his eyes. He hates it when someone interrupts him while he's working with tech.
"Wait-there it is! Can you hear me alright? Do I sound normal?"
"....I can hear you."
"Awesome! Are you Batman, and if so, have you considered the importance of mental health activities? Like hugging your kids once a day? That really boosts your serotonin and dopamine levels." Danny asks, attempting to channel Jazz as much as he can. There is muffled sound across the phone line, like someone is attempting to smother a laugh.
"No, this is Bruce Wayne." Mr. Wayne says after a moment pause, "You have my son?"
"Oh," Danny tries not to sound as disappointed as he feels, but he may have failed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne I don't think your son is here. I think they were using him to distract you and the police of the missing models."
There is a strange lake of sound on the other line before Mr. Wayne responds. "Can you tell me who I am speaking to?"
"Danny Fenton. I was one of the models that was taken." Danny says, then he realizes the cops must be listening in because that always happens in movies; he lowers his voice and tries to sound in shock. "I think we're in a warehouse? I'm not sure, but I was in a cage when I woke up. They said they're going to sell us. I escaped, but there were guards everywhere, so I tried hiding in the office and heard the man you were speaking to come in. I hit him with a chair."
"Mr.Fenton," A new man says suddenly, "I know this is a terrifying situation, and I-"
"Are you Batman?"
"....No, son, I'm Commissioner Gordon"
"Oh."
"Do you want to speak to Batman?"
"Yes."
"Can I ask why?"
"I need to tell him to hug his kids."
Danny waits a few seconds for a response, but he hears nothing, not even the wind. They must have muted themselves. He leans on the desk, mindful to give the kidnapper a solid kick to make sure he's still out, and glancing over to the window to make sure there aren't any guards coming his way.
"Mr. Fenton, did they give you anything strange?" Commissioner Gordon asks
Danny thinks for a moment before humming. "They gave all of us something in a needle. I don't know what it was, but it felt funny. My brother has been acting weird since he got it."
"Okay, you're doing good. " Commissioner Gordon sounds like he is frowning but the words cause something in Danny's core to pur."Okay, son, everything is going to be alright. I need you to do something for me. Every Gotham warehouse has a serial number; you can find it in the main office on the power box. Do you see the box?"
Danny glances around until he sees the small little green box. He hurries over to it, throwing the door open. "I found it."
"Good. Can you read me the number?"
Danny reads them off as quickly as he can. Once all ten digits are within the police's hands he asks again. "Do you know if Batman partakes in his kid's interests?"
"I can ask him for you."
"Would you? That would be great. It's important to let people know you care about them by showing an interest in what they are passionate about. My brother Dan really likes making clothes, and even though I don't think I can model, I do it for him, you know?"
"You're a good brother."
"Thank you.....I'm tired Mr. Gordon." Danny says suddenly eyelids becoming heavy. He slides down the wall a lot like Dan did before.
"I'm sorry to hear that but I need you to keep talking to me, Mr. Fenton."
"Batman should tell his kids he loves them. His love language may be an act of service, but Nightwings' is words of affirmation. Nightwing needs to be told he's loved."
"Mr. Fenton! Stay awake for me! Mr.Fenton!" Danny hears someone yelling, but his core is purring even more now, and the sound is luring him to sleep. Suddenly he thinks of his counterpart in the cage waiting for his paper and pen.
"I have to go. I promised Dan I would get him some stuff so he could design some clothes. Bye-Bye."
"No! Don't hang up-!"
Danny drops the cell phone after pressing the end call button and ignores it when it rings again. He hurries over to the desk, looking for paper, but finds the table lacking. Thankfully, an open suitcase has sheets that he borrowed and a few pens.
He takes them all and runs back over the crates to where Dan is. Once he arrives, he notices many models are no longer distressed. All of them are smiling with a dazed look, and a few are even giggling. He waves at a few as he hurries back to his cage.
Dan is there, muttering under his breath and twisting his fingers in the air as if he were drawing in the sky. Danny bends the bars and holds up his prize. "I got the stuff!"
"Thank the ancients! I was never going to finish Mr. Hot scales suit without it!" Dan cheers, turning one of the sheets over to a clean side. He throws his whole body on the ground, using the smooth surface to start his ball gown.
Danny watches him for a moment before his purring core is too much. Dan reaches out to grip his leg, enclosing it in his warm palm and that's all Danny needs before he's fast asleep.
Dan continues to draw for a few more minutes before he, too, is overcome with sleep. Neither notices Red Hood or Robin bursting into the warehouse, guns and swords blazing, just as the buyers arrive. They or any of the models are unaware of the smackdown that happens until everyone involved with the scheme is behind bars.
Robin finds their cage, stepping through the bent bars and pausing at the sheets of paper scattered across the slumbering teenagers. He flips one incredibly designed ballgown only to have his eyes widen at what's written down.
"Robin to Batman," he says, staring at the paper and pressing his communicator. "I have a complete list of everyone who was buying today and past buyers. We can dismantle an entire ring with this."
"Good work, Robin."
"It wasn't I who found it. It was the Fentons."
".....Are they hurt?"
"Drugged but otherwise unharmed."
"Good."
There is a pause before Nightwing speaks up "Tell me you love me B."
"No"
Danny Fenton's eyes briefly open to stare into a surprised Robin's eyes. "Tell him Batman his humanity is at risk. Says the Ghost King."
"They gave him the good shit," Spolior laughs, having heard Fenton through the coms.
Elsewhere, Tim Drake-Wayne stares at Killer Croc aka Waylon Jones who is replaying the video of Dan Fenton catcalling Waylon from his cage right after the fashion designer was dosed with high levels of morphine.
"Hey Papi, why don't you come up here and let me dress you up in the proper wrapping for a walking gift like you?"
"Hey...hey are you from the EverBurning tribe? Cause those are the hotest legs and tail I have ever seen!"
"Mr.Hot Scales, I promise Danny is the only ally of FarFrozen. I'm team EverBurning all the way! Kiss me!"
"What the actual fuck?" Tim asks, and Waylon nods.
"I have no idea, kid. The first time any of my merchandise flirts with me."
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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
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