Tw. Drugging - Tumblr Posts

can we just appreciate that Eggman managed to trick Espio into non-lethally drugging Sonic with literally no effort whatsoever

Made a oneshot for @amasaiweek Day 2: book/hot chocolate

[Beta AU Amasai Week Day 2]

A Surprise Gift - B!Amasairuma fluff/angst-ish?

tw: drug/drugging mention at the end

@kagazuly tagging for au credit

--------------------------------------------

"Hey, Shuichi, can ya do me a favor?"

The tan-haired boy turned from Kirumi to Miu, who was now holding a tray with a small saucer and a cup full of a steamy brown liquid.

"...Hot chocolate?"

"It's… for Rantaro. He's been studying all day, y'know? I kinda… kinda worry about him."

Don't we all? thought Shuichi before asking, "Well, why do I have to deliver it then? If you want to show him you're worried, give it to him yourself. I think that'd be the obvious solution.”

Miu pouted and turned to the ingredients strewn across the countertop. "I would, but, well, I made that on a whim, and me and Kirumi still have to finish making dinner, and by the time we finish it'll get cold, and…"

"And you're embarrassed to give it to him."

"Am not!!" Miu snapped back at Kirumi's smooth remark, shoving the tray into Shuichi's hands and shooing him out of the kitchen. "I just don't want him to think the wrong sorta things about this!"

"He told you himself he's aro-"

"That's not what I mean!! I mean I don't want him to think I'm babying him like I do with you guys and… and Kaz."

Shuichi let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “It’s alright. If you don’t want to, I’ll take it to him. Do you want me to tell him it’s from you, or-“

“No, just say Kirumi made hot chocolate for everyone.”

“Okay.” He smiled and set off to find the medic. 

He decided to check Rantaro’s lab first, assuming he’d be studying in there as he did often. But when he knocked on the door to the lab there was no response. It was even unlocked, which started to worry the violinist a bit before he looked around and saw nothing out of place. Wherever Rantaro was now, he had gone there in a rush, most likely, and thankfully it looked like nobody had been in here since then. 

The knocks on his dorm room door were also met with silence, except this door was locked. He could be in there, Shuichi thought. They could never really figure out his thought process, after all. Regardless, he decided to check a few more possible study rooms before giving up. 

Just the library and the pavilion outside are left, he thought, his hand already on the doorknob to his second-to-last destination. He was starting to regret looking in other rooms. The chocolate was already getting lukewarm. He turned the handle and entered.

Shuichi couldn’t believe it. Here, after all his searching, the medic sat in the center of the library, reading and annotating a book from a large stack next to him. Normally Rantaro did his work in secret or at least alone. But for him to be here, in such an obvious place… Could he actually be starting to trust the others?

It was awkward, both of them realized, the green-haired boy looking up at his guest. 

Shuichi cleared his throat. “Ahem, uh, Kirumi… made hot chocolate for everyone. You want any?” He now understood why Miu dumped this job on him. He, too, would give anything to get away from this embarrassing moment. 

Rantaro looked back at his book nonchalantly. “‘M not thirsty. Go give mine to someone else,” he mumbled, waving the violinist away. 

“Rantaro…”

The medic made a few more scribbles in the book with a pen. 

“Rantaro, we’re all worried about you, you know.” Shuichi said softly. 

He shot out of his reading suddenly with a seemingly normal smile on his face, though Shuichi could see he had slight eye bags. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I’m fine. You guys don’t need to worry about me. I’ll see you at dinner, ok?” After this brief remark, he got right back to studying. 

Shuichi placed the tray on the desk anyways, and left without a word. He wished Rantaro could understand the others, but, well, the guy was a war medic. How much could he really trust them after only a week or two? In fact, the violinist thought, he probably studied out in the open this time because it wasn’t important stuff, or he could have just been faking the whole time, obsessing over the mastermind again. Rantaro didn’t trust them. He never would, most likely, until they stopped the person behind this all. It made sense, but… there was just a part of Shuichi that wanted to trust everyone, even if that trust was a lie at its core. Something Rantaro could never consider, it seemed like. For a war medic, the boy sure was a mystery. One that he wasn’t really sure he wanted to try to solve. 

That evening, Rantaro did fulfill his promise, showing up for dinner just as he had said. He brought the tray with the cup and saucer back, too and- was that cup empty? 

He probably dumped it out in the bathroom or something, Shuichi thought, knowing the medic couldn’t have actually wanted to drink that uncomfortably semi-warm drink while busying himself with his research, even if that research was fake. And yet, something about Rantaro looked and felt off. As if his actions now were genuine. As if he was truly glad to be here, truly energized despite his previously miserable state. 

The violinist heard a faint whisper behind him that he never would’ve guessed was aimed at him had he not felt the quick poke of Miu’s fingernail on his back. “The trick worked, don’tcha think? Rantaro just needed some sleep, I could tell.” 

“What are you talking about?” he mumbled back.

“Oh, stealing a single sleep-inducing pill when the lab’s unlocked and mixing it into a drink to make that stubborn medic get the sleep he needs? Never something I’d think of doing. Never.”

Shuichi nearly cracked up. He could just barely stop himself from even laughing a little at the plan. And from what he’d seen, it worked. Rantaro was definitely suspecting Kirumi of something now, but at least he was more energetic, more human. Miu was right, he definitely needed some sleep before, even though he insisted he didn’t.

“You really gave him a taste of his own medicine, huh?” Shuichi said, letting out a small chuckle. 

“Well, you’re the one who gave it to him. I could say the same about you. Oh, and have fun being on his watch list for a while.”

“You too.”

The two of them giggled more at their dumb quips, Shuichi still watching Rantaro. The medic laughed at something Kokichi said that Shuichi couldn’t hear from so far away, and a calm smile made its way onto the violinist’s face. 

Jessie Drugs James and Is Generally Abusive: Hurt Without Much Comfort (part one of four)

Another darkfic. I had almost forgotten I'd written this (those repressed memories wouldn't cooperate).

I'm slowly realizing that I wrote a lot of hurt/comfort and whump fic before I even knew there was a term for it.

Content Warning: First-person mixed points-of-view; abuse; workplace violence; depiction of medical issues and injuries; poisoning by chemicals or drugging; forcible injection; out-of-character behavior for James and Meowth; absolute character assassination of Jessie; Jesus Hades Christ twelve!me tortured James a lot in fic

-O-o-O-o-O-

(Meowth's point of view)

It all started when Jessie decided we had to work harder and look more threatening so people would be scared of us. That meant we had to look good and not ghetto.

That meant cleaning the van.

All she did was shove a bucket of some cleaning liquid in our faces. It smelled like ass.

"What is this crap?" I said.

"It's a special chemical blend," Jessie said. Then she went to work on our plan.

At the time I didn't know what was going on. I thought this was just another way to improve Team Rocket that probably wouldn't work.

It wasn't.

-O-o-O-

We were cleaning the van for about a half an hour when James started coughing.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I don't know. I just don't feel good," James said weakly.

"Maybe it's the chemicals," I said.

At that point, James fainted.

I ran to get Jessie. "James just fainted!" I screamed. "Help him!"

We went to James. He was unconscious and motionless.

"Speak to me! Do something!" I yelled.

Jessie just said, "He'll live," and walked away.

I couldn't believe it. I just stood there. Had she lost her mind?

(James's point of view)

I came to in our tent. I was lying on my sleeping bag. Meowth was sitting nearby.

"What happened?" I asked.

Meowth ran over to me and hugged me. "You fainted," he said. He was crying. I didn't know why he was crying at the time.

"Why are you crying?" I asked. It hurt me to see Meowth unhappy or crying.

"I'm just happy you're conscious. Now get some rest," Meowth said. He exited the tent.

I lay in bed, alone in the tent. The only reason why Meowth would be crying is if something happened.

"Something could've happened to Jessie!" I thought.

I was almost panicking. I tried to sit up, but was hit by a sudden rush of nausea. I lay back down, but it didn't improve. I sat up again and threw up.

I slept for about three hours after that.

Even thought Meowth came into the tent again, I didn't ask him why he was crying. I thought he would be upset or hurt.

I was also scared. Maybe it was something Jessie was trying to do to me. She did make us clean the van with some strange chemicals.

She was trying to drug me.

(Meowth's point of view)

The day after the van incident, I saw something that nearly frightened me.

It also gave me a clue to what Jessie put in the cleaning liquid.

I was sitting outside the tent. James was inside the tent, resting. He had been resting a lot after the incident with the cleaning liquid.

Or maybe he had been training that homicidal Victreebel.

Anyway, Jessie came in. She was holding a syringe with a needle. What could that be for, I thought.

I watched with curiosity, then fear. Jessie stuck the needle in James's left arm.

James sat up quickly. His bluish-violet hair was ruffled because he'd been sleeping. His bright green eyes were glazed over.

He stared at Jessie for a few seconds, then passed out.

I went into the tent after Jessie left.

"Wake up, James," I said softly.

James opened his eyes halfway.

"What happened?" James asked softly.

"I saw Jessie inject something into you. It made you faint," I said. I didn't know if James would believe me or if he would think I was putting down Jessie, but I had to tell him the truth.

He didn't believe it.

"It….it must have been something else that caused the fainting," James whispered.

"No, I'm pretty sure it was the injection," I said quietly.

James began to cry as if his heart had been broken.

In a way, it had been.

-O-o-O-

I saw something I never thought I would see.

Jessie was forcing James to take some pills. James was refusing. Ever since he was drugged with the needle, he'd been feeling unwell.

Jessie took out the syringe. She dissolved the pills in water and put it in the syringe. She injected the drug into James. James pulled away and ended up collapsing on the ground.

As soon as Jessie walked away, I dragged James inside the tent. He sat up weakly.

"Meowth….Was I dreaming? Did I just have a nightmare about Jessiebelle? Am I hallucinating?" James asked weakly.

"It was real, and it was Jessie," I said.

James didn't look like he in any condition to resist the truth. In fact, he looked like he would faint from shock.

James also looked hurt. I didn't know what to do.

"But why?" he asked.

All I could say was, "I don't know."

-O-o-O-o-O-

Moral of the story: The D.A.R.E. program did strange things to twelve!me's brain.

Jessie Drugs James and Is Generally Abusive: Jessie Evolves Into a Poison Type Pokémon (part two of four)

Another installment of "Reasons I'm Glad I Instinctively Had a 'Lurk More' Mentality as a Kid." Featuring "What the Fuck Was Up with Twelve!me?"

Part one is here.

Content Warning: First-person mixed points-of-view; abuse; workplace violence; questionable depiction of medical issues and injuries; possibly uncomfortable discussions of romance; angst over romantic orientation that might hit too close to home; poisoning by chemicals or drugging; forcible injection; sexual abuse; suicidal ideation; attempted murder plot; Pokémon/Human romantic (maybe?) relationship; out-of-character behavior for James and Meowth; absolute character assassination of Jessie; Jesus Hades Christ twelve!me tortured James a lot in fic (this isn't even the worst of it)

-O-o-O-o-O-

(Meowth's point of view)

Lately, I noticed James acting differently. When he was around Jessie, he wouldn't look at her or talk to her. If she talked to him, he'd burst into silent, but violent tears.

Then one day, he asked me for advice about something that surprised me, but sort of didn't. This was probably the bravest thing James did because he was so shy about romance.

"Meowth? What do I do if….I-I love another boy?" James asked.

"What?" I said.

"I'm in love with another boy," James said softly.

"Who?" I asked. James looked away suddenly. He was probably afraid to say it. "Okay, you don't have to tell me."

"I don't know how it started. I can't even remember when it started." James managed to say this and then broke down into tears.

"I don't even want to have these feelings," James sobbed. "I don't want to fall in love."

"Why don't you want to fall in love?" I asked.

"What if the person I'm in love with hates me? What if they think there's something horribly wrong with me for falling in love with them? What if they abuse me? What if they act like I'm not there? And if I get married, what if they make me do….forbidden things with them?" James began wiping away tears again.

"But don't you want to be happy when you're in love?" I asked.

"I won't be happy if I'm in love! I'm not ready to fall in love. I just want to take care of you," James said.

"Are there any other reasons why you don't want to fall in love?" I asked.

"I-I'm still afraid of being tied to someone," James whispered.

I could understand why. With all that Jessiebelle put him through, no wonder James was afraid of romance.

I didn't blame him for fearing love.

-O-o-O-

Another very unexpected thing happened. It frightened me.

It also proved how crazy Jessie was.

James was sitting in the tent. Jessie came in with a medicine cup. It was filled halfway. The liquid in it was a weird cream-colored white.

"Meowth, go outside," Jessie said.

"Why?" I asked.

"James and I have business," she said.

I went outside. What business could Jessie have with James?

I saw a small opening I could look through. I peeked in and didn't believe what I saw.

James was holding the medicine cup and eyeing it suspiciously.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Your medicine. What else?" Jessie acted like James was on drugs or something.

"I'm not on any medication," James said.

"Just drink it."

"No."

I must've tuned out because I heard a cry from James.

"Get off me! Stop it! I don't want it!" James yelled.

Jessie was sexually abusing James!

Jessie stuck the needle full of liquid in James's arm. James fell unconscious.

As soon as Jessie left, I went in to see James.

"Wake up," I said softly. James didn't move.

"Wake up," I said loudly. James still didn't move.

"Wake up, James! Say something!" I was crying and yelling.

James opened his eyes. He looked sad and serious. He almost looked hurt.

"So it was Jessie, wasn't it, Meowth?" James said. His voice was breaking and he sounded like he was going to cry.

"Yes," I said.

I wished I hadn't said that because James began to cry quietly. I hated to see James so unhappy.

The fact that it was Jessie who was hurting him made it worse.

-O-o-O-

I was coming out of the tent the day after the "medicine" incident. James wasn't in his sleeping bag, so I decided to look for him. I found him sitting near the river.

He was picking off the petals of a rose. I could hear him saying, "He loves me, he loves me not."

When he picked off the last petal, he said, "He loves me not." He sighed sadly and threw away the stem.

After a while, James shuddered violently. He looked into the river at his reflection.

"I'm such a failure. I don't blame Jessie for trying to drug some sense into me," he whispered. I could hear the tears in his voice. "I should end it now."

"Don't do it!" I yelled. I ran over to James, crying. I hugged him. "Don't kill yourself. Don't do it. I love you."

James hugged me back. I was crying with my mouth open, so I got to taste James's tears. They were weirdly sweet.

Just like James.

When we finished crying, I looked at James. I never realized how beautiful he was before. His silky hair was a rare violet color. For some reason, a thin clump of hair hung down in front of his face, which was so cute. His green eyes shone like emeralds. He was slender with delicate hands and feet. His skin was smooth and soft against my fur.

I envied the boy he loved.

(James's point of view)

The next day was the day everything went wrong.

Jessie told Meowth to get out of the tent. Meowth obeyed.

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. I always got that feeling when I was alone with Jessie. I wished Meowth wasn't so obedient sometimes.

Jessie handed a bottle to me. It had black liquid in it.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Poison. Put it in Meowth's food. Pour half of it in," Jessie said.

I swallowed so I wouldn't throw up.

"Will it kill him?" I asked.

"Of course it will! It wouldn't be poison if it didn't," Jessie said.

"Will he notice?" I managed to say.

"He'll die in his sleep," Jessie said.

That night, before I cooked dinner, I was driving myself crazy about it. When I left the camp, Jessie asked, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get some firewood," I said.

I was out of Jessie's sight. I was about to go look for the firewood when I remembered I had the bottle of poison in my pocket.

I looked at the bottle in a daze. I couldn't kill Meowth. But I didn't want to go against Jessie's orders. I decided to dump the poison out secretly.

I knelt down and dug a small hole, about the size of Meowth. Then I got a disturbing thought.

What if I drank the poison?

I opened the bottle. The poison smelled awful, worse than the cleaning liquid. I couldn't do it. I poured the poison into the hole I dug. I'm not suicidal and I'm not a killer.

I put a rock in the hole and buried it. I used another rock as a marker.

At dinner, Meowth was quiet. Did he know what Jessie wanted me to do? Meowth didn't look scared. He looked worried.

Good, I thought. He doesn't need to be scared.

I do.

When we went to bed, Jessie asked me where the poison bottle was. I handed her the empty bottle.

"Good. It'll work better since you used all of it," she said.

I couldn't sleep. I really wasn't feeling well after lying to Jessie. I decided to run away with Meowth and turn Jessie in to a mental institution.

I set my alarm for 2:00 AM.

-O-o-O-o-O-

Moral of the story: Meowth picks the worst times to have romantic thoughts. Also, he likes the taste of James's tears.

hi hi this is very dark so please ignore if it makes u uncomfy but like oikawa beating the shit out of reader and fucking her battered body for hours and tying her up in his basement to let his friends have their ways with her also please add heavy degradation if you're fine with it

It’s a bit dark,,so I changed it up a bit but kept the overall theme I guess, basically getting ganged on by Oikawa, Iwa, Mattsun, and Makki. I really hope y’all like it, being honest this was a a hard write for me.

Tw:noncon, degradation, physical abuse, Dacryphilia, mentions of drugging. I hope you enjoy !!

You’re head was throbbing, vision fuzzy and unfocused, there were muffled voices above you, and a burn between your legs, “ I think she’s wakin up” Makki groans, his grip on your leg tightening, as he drives his thick cock into your velvet walls. “Awe is she~ let me see,” a rough hand yanks your head up, suddenly alert your eye fly open and you let out a shriek, as a camera is pointed right at your face “wakey wakey~” the singsong voice coming from none other than Oikawa, before letting go, allowing you to fall back to the floor.

“W-what’s going o-on!??” Hands reaching down trying to push Makki away, “s-stop, g-guys, w-why” you question groggily, eyes darting fearfully, spotting Mattsun, and even Iwa, standing close, both had their cocks out and were looking at you like prey. “Oh, honey, don’t you remember?” Oikawa asks, hand cupping your cheek, before swiftly smacking you, “ you earned this when you thought you could flirt with other guys, not keeping your drink safe”, the strike has your face burning and ear ringing, “you were so easy to drug” he motions for the other two to move forward, Mattsun quick to snag the spot nearest your mouth, smirking as he probs your mouth with the bulbous head “ you wanna act like a slut we’ll treat you like one, little manager” he chuckles, pinching your nose hard enough to bruise when you refuse to open up, the pain and need to breath catch up to you, you try to turn your head but it’s too late, Mattsun shoves his cock into your mouth and down your throat, tears sting your eyes and cheeks as they run uncontrollably.

You feel Makki pull out with a groan, warm cum pounded deeply inside of your cunny, still hard he lays on one side, arm hooking under your leg as he lines up with your ass, Iwa moving to replace him, your thrash wildly, scream of protest silence my mattsun’s fat cock, his hips twitch,shoving it deeper down your throat, “ugh, keep makin her scream like that,” he says hand holding your head still as he fucks into your throat brutally. Makki and Iwa share a look and thrust in at the same time, your scream causing mattsun to spill deep in your throat, with a load growl, you’re forced to swallow before he’ll pull out, once he does you gasp for air, tears running freely as you sob.

Oikawa sits back video camera in hand “see little manager, you’re all ours and after today everyone will be able to see why?” He cruelty teases you, everything hurt as the two other men pounded your lower half roughly, but Oikawa want you to hurt more, he saunters up dropping to his knees cock out and ready, one hand holding camera the other laced in your hair lightly,, handing the camera to Iwa, he smacks your face with his cock before forcing it down your throat, slapping you hard any time you gag on him. Iwa takes great film, the image of Makki and his dicks disappearing inside making his lose his mind.

Your face was slick with spit and tears, aching hotly, Oikawa gripping your hair tightly as he pummles your throat with his cock. One of you legs is hooked on Iwa’s shoulder as he fucks into your gummy walls, a hand pinching your clit as he sinks his teeth into the skin of your thigh, your body jolts, cunt squeezing hard, “bite her again,” Makki goads Iwa on “dirty bitch is about to cum” he groans out, shoving deeply into your ass only to sit and grind roughly. Mattsun nods, sinking teeth into the tender skin of your tit. Screeching around the dick in your mouth as he draws blood, cunny spasming as a shameful orgasm washes over you, more tears leak from your eyes. “Ahh~ fucking slut!,” Makki growls as he spills hot cum in your ass, Iwa quickly following cumming directly against your battered cervix. Finally after seeing the other men’s fluids leaking from you abused body, Oikawa spills in your mouth, pulling out to cover your face with the rest. He rubs the cum into your skin before slapping hard one last time. “You’re ours now little manager, just accept it” their cruel laughter bouncing off the walls of the bare basement that was your prison cell now.

Of course you can stay the night, maedhros, I’ll make you some tea

You shouldn’t cosset him so, Mairon. It’s just a silly little nightmare

Still, some tea might keep it away

Thank you for your kindness

ever since childe became your boyfriend, life seemed so smooth sailing. the professor you complained about to him? quitted not even a week later! your boyfriend is so perfect too, cooking you meals everyday and you sleep so well every night too. it’s almost too perfect, the amount of deep sleep you have. i mean it’s not like childe is a particularly clingy or needy boyfriend, hell, he only ever has sex with you when you want it. it’s just so perfect.

nsfw / dark content under cut <3 warnings: rape, somnophilia, drugging, noncon, stalking, yandere childe <3

so perfect for childe, that you have no idea as his trusting partner that he drugs your food everyday, lacing it with sleeping pills so you'll never wake up as he rapes you in your sleep <3 heart eyes. he's such a provider isn't he? he won't even bother you with his needs cause he'll save it for when you're knocked out from his meals, always waiting till you're deep asleep after eating right out of his palms. he controls everything in your life, getting rid of professors you dislike, researching your favourite foods to render you unconscious while he fucks your relaxed hole in the snoozing state. childe is so sweet, leaving you achingly well rested in the morning, asleep in his arms after he's used your body well <3

nsfw content ahead ! you have been warned <3

pairing: gn! reader x thoma

warnings: mind break, unprotected sex, rough sex, degradation, drugged by aphrodisiac, dacryphilia, noncon/dubcon, breeding

imagine being used to loving soft sex with thoma.. only to find out when he's high on aphrodisiac that he's been holding back on you the entire time. just being completely surprised when you go to welcome your loving boyfriend home for him to haul you over his shoulder with a feral snarl, basically sprinting to your shared bed(giggled thinking about him just running!) and throwing you down before stripping you bare without even a word but hurried huffs of need as he pulls down his pants and shoving his throbbing erection deep into your hole without prep <3 it's a complete 180 to what you're used to with him! your thoma would spend so long getting you ready, making sure you're comfortable, not this animal whose humping you dry with only his release on his mind. the very hands that often cradle you as you make love are now bruising your hips with pressure, practically forcing your body up n down his length while thoma thrusts wildly, rhythmless just like a beast in heat. and the way he talks, oh god. you're sure thoma would never say such lewd things that he's currently grunting into your ear, calling you demeaning things like a whore and bitch. it makes tears stream down your face from self-doubt and fear but it seems to please thoma cause as he's calling you these mean names, he's licking at your pearly drops as if they're delicious, "cry more for me slut, you look so whorish like that taking my cock... i'm gonna breed you full of my cum bitch, take it all cause that's all you're good for, crying on my dick." you'd sob in response, heart breaking as the thoma of your memory shatters from the treatment of the thoma above you, pounding you harshly like a ragdoll with your legs pressed in a full nelson. you never even thought of pushing him off even though he's not wearing a condom, (it's not a safe day!) and that he's being so cruel with you, cause he's your boyfriend, thoma. he loves you right? it'll be so difficult for you to piece together that this is the truth of your lover, someone who'll break into you just for his own enjoyment. it'll hurt your pretty brain as you cry, cry and cry, even after he's finally sober and finished breeding your holes. s'not like thoma minds though, i mean, having a pretty crybaby cockslut isn't a bad deal for the man anyways <3

childe puts sleeping pills in your water before your big recital so you pass out straight after so he can have his fun with you in your little get up.

degen anon :))

bonk. horny man! poor you, it was so hard to focus during the recital, feeling so inexplicably sleepy. childe just waiting in the shadows to take you once you’re gone, enjoying you without your knowledge <3 you’re surprised you slept so well afterwards though it’s a bit strange how full you feel… is that cum leaking down your leg?

don’t tell me you missed me that much <3

degen anon here hehe xiao gets you birth supplements instead of your birth control so he can see you lactate. you’ll be so embarrassed cause you didn’t even know you could do that without pregnancy but it turns xiao on so much and you’re tits are feeling lonely….

twirls hair. hey degen anon hehe i missed you lots ♡

XIAO U AWFUL MAN !!!! not him dumping loads in you while he’s swapped your bc, basically forcing you to get pregnant and leak milk from your nipples anyways!!! but the supplements make them lactate way faster than normal and your tummy isn’t even showing? but xiao loves sucking your buds sore while filling you up with cum to make you carry his babies!!! he cums so much that it bulges, so you start looking like you’re having his kids inside :o he would never. leave your tits alone. he’s attached to that shit like a baby, lapping at them as you shiver from the pleasurable tingles coursing through your body <3 (coughs. xiao gets a hard on when you first discover that you lactate, your teary eyes as you show him and your upset voice about how you’re on birth control but still got pregnant? god it makes him wanna take you right there. after some convincing with his mouth latched onto your lactating tits however has you drunk on the feeling, already not so fussed about being pregnant anyways!!!)

omg now i’m thinking of that art of zhongli as a vampire

https://64-media-tumblr-com.cdn.ampproject.org/ii/w820/s/64.media.tumblr.com/444a1d069abe40a3ea3afb7ed23bbf50/89972af46f8cb073-f1/s500x750/ab94f4c22607341042bf6d68861ffadc11a3929c.png

i bet he’d talk about something so boring as he has you on his lap and drinks your blood <33 -degen anon <33

vampire zhongli and i would get along so well.

his quirks are all explained by his lengthy lifetime, eloquent speech and customary differences that confuse your cute little brain. zhongli rants on about the properties of his fangs and your blood as you stupidly cuddle into his chest while on his lap, not knowing that he’s telling you very important things! his pointed sharp canines can make you lightheaded n drunk, drugged by his hormones, making you a perfect blood source that would hump zhongli in lust as he grazes on your neck <3 all you know is that when with zhongli, everything feels so good, not knowing you’re addicted to being bitten by the centuries old vampire.

dark web concept… fuck. / dark nsfw content warning.

silly little reader who accidentally stumbles upon the hidden side of the internet searching for porn... clicking a recommended video that's highlighted on the shady looking page titled "innocent unknowing user gets fucked live" and only to see that the screen is showing your reflection, filming from your webcam and a masked individual is approaching you from behind with a cloth!

poor dumb reader gets chloroform placed over their mouth as intruder childe keeps you from struggling <3 once the drugs start setting in and you stop flailing around, he's stripping you naked. he's not kind either, tearing your shirt off to expose your chest and harshly tweak at your nipples! when it comes to your underwear, he just rips it off, the fabric savagely pulled apart as he rubs his angry erection against your hole <3

all the while it's broadcasted and viewed illegally as childe groans, thrusting forcefully into you for the whole world to see, your laptop's camera blinking as your body's lurching forward. your drugged out drooly face is all up and close for viewing as childe's rough fucking makes your tongue loll out, full body jolts from your hole being ruined and mind going completely blank from the mix of drugs and pained pleasure.

you really shouldn't have stumbled across the dark web, cause now the intruder's going to breed your holes full till you're pregnant from his cock and it'll be saved on countless secret sites, for deviants to jerk off to as you're destroyed live.

it could've been any genshin man but i just like having childe always as our icky evil man. zhongli was definitely watching and stroking his dick as childe used your hair to force you back onto his length - he's so extremely rough <3

nothing is more lewd than the pure fear in their eyes when you raise your hand. so cute, you’re scared of getting hit? awh, does the pain hurt you? thought you liked being treated like a slut. now now, don’t scream when i pull your hair, we wouldn’t want to have to stuff your mouth full with chloroform do we? or maybe, we can use those filthy soaking wet panties of yours.

Welcome Home (Darkiplier x reader) Part 5- A date gone Dark

(TWs: Mentions of drugging,Manipulation, Forced kiss, Yandere behaviour if you squint. Dead dove do not eat I think?)

You entered your room and sat down on the floor, slamming the door behind you. You were beyond upset at Mark, he’d been cancelling out on your get togethers for years now but the moment you did? Suddenly it was wrong.

Mark was allowed to push you aside and replace you as much as he wanted. Merely thinking about it caused you to clench your fists incredibly hard. But no more, no longer were you going to deal with that bullshit. Damien would never do such a thing to y- Wait, why are you thinking about Damien? Your argument with Mark had nothing to do with him. Maybe Mark was right. Going on this date might be a bad ide- Suddenly, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through your head, followed by a piercing ringing in your ears that made you squeeze your eyes shut.. You groaned and held your head in pain, stretching out your legs. You blinked once it stopped, feeling lightheaded. What were you thinking about?

Oh yes, Damien. You felt like you could go on for hours about how sweet he’s been to you. “You deserve somebody who won’t take you for granted..Somebody who could give you the world..” He’d told you. You didn’t want to think about Damien too much, but he just kept invading your mind, taking hold of it with his sweet words or his smooth voice. 

Your foot suddenly made contact with something, a deck of tarot cards. It piqued your curiosity so you picked it up and shuffled the deck before spreading it out. You picked up the first card, turning it over to reveal the seven of swords.

Deception.

You shakily place it down before picking up your second tarot.

The Devil.

The creature in the illustration looming over a chained subordinate kneeling to him. The room felt colder and the strange scar on your wrist started to burn again.

With a shaky hand you picked up your final tarot.

The moon.

Something was lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right time to pounce.

The pain jolted through your body again, and in a moments notice you've suddenly found yourself fully dressed for your date. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling of apprehension before meeting Damien. You couldn’t back out on him now. It’d be rude. What was the worst that could happen anyway? 

You entered the restaurant with Damien, taking in its magnificent glamour. You’d only really seen places like this in your dreams or just passing by. Damien pulled out a chair for you and smiled gentlemanly at you while you sat down. His charming demeanor made you melt inside while making you uncomfortable at the same time.

Damien sat in front of you, smiling charmingly while he poured wine for the 2 of you. You smiled at him. “I’m so glad I chose to come out here with you. It really takes my mind off the whole situation I had with Mark.” You said, taking a sip of the wine. It tasted odd and much more..bitter than it should be. You took another sip to confirm you weren’t imagining it. Damien smiled at you. “Of course. Anything for you. I could take you to the places you want to go..” Suddenly, your vision started to blur and you felt drowsy.

Your head started to hurt.

“I can especially take you to the places you don’t want to go..” Damiens grin turned sinister. You quickly shoved your hands into your pockets and made an attempt to call Mark with whatever remained of your strength. Damien stalked towards you. “There is nothing that you, Or he could ever do to stop me. You’re powerless now, little mouse..” He grabbed your chin forcefully and pulled you into a rough kiss. “Don’t worry, mon amour. You’ll never leave me again..” A quiet cry of panic escaped your lips before everything went dark.

ɢ ᴏ ᴏ ᴇ ʏ

frat boy! oikawa tooru x iwaizumi's gf! reader

warnings: cheating (everyone's cheating in this frat house tonight), drugging (reader thought she was doing coke, actually percs), drug mentions: coke, weed, percs, non-con, gas-lighting, manipulation, iwai and oiks are shitty frat boys what can i say

wc: 1.9k

a/n: my piece for the intoxicated collab hosted by the whore house <3 you can check it out here! i have never written for this pretty rat bastard but I kinda like this version of oikawa that now lives in my brain. he's a shitty bastard but meh. this is very, very, very, v e r y loosely based on a real experience i had with percs ( i don't condone the use of percs !! ). also, do not mix drugs if you are doing them, especially percs with alcohol!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you know you're fucked as the last of the pretty white line vanishes through the end of a cut-up straw and into your nose. that too pretty smile tooru's wearing almost looks sinister as the feeling of prickles dances across your brain and the feeling of slight numbness snakes up your appendages. it's cemented further when drowsiness sinks in.

worst of all, you know you've lost when tooru's featherlight touch across your bottom lip has you sucking his thumb like your boyfriend isn't somewhere else in the same house

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

leading up to the frat party, you were excited ! time spent with your roommate was always fun, your partner in crime for getting wasted silly before proceeding to call your boyfriends to be picked up and continue the fun from there.

their frat's parties are always choice, thematic some days and just a reason to drink and make poor choices others. your poison of choice always being egging hajime on throughout the night to be fucked dumb when he's pushed beyond his limit-- the perfect fun for you.

but there's always tooru.

it's been too many times to count where you think you've finally got hajime right where you need him and then tooru's there to effectively whisk hajime away-- always with a snide reminder that you're there with your roommate, his girlfriend so 'why don't you go find her, she'll get lonely!'

ironic, considering that if she and you were up to trouble together he'd badger you over being negligent of hajime.

regardless, you fully entitled to enjoy yourself tonight-- tooru be damned.

before you could fester longer on the leech that was tooru, your roommate poses a comment about the outfits planned for tonight. it's enough to steal away your attention, and you find yourselves trying and tossing off clothes interspersed with chatter and gossip of all manner. by the end of it, you look downright sinful-- dressed in a silky feeling black bodycon with lace trim.

the intention is to rile hajime up, get him irritated having to be watchful over you to keep his sleazy frat brothers away. except for tooru, he's always the exception. he couldn't let any of his other brothers be the exception? you'd take temperamental kyotani over tooru any day. it's only a minor bonus kyotani is nice to look at.

by the time your roommate is ushering you to the uber you're quite tipsy, still aware of yourself but relaxed enough to giggle along to the lame jokes your uber throws over his shoulder at you two. idly, you think he's kinda cute.

the party is in full swing by the time your uber pulls up, people idling out on the lawn in stark contrast to the blaring music coming from the house itself. hajime and tooru are waiting outside for the both of you as you exit the uber. giving the uber a sweet smile before closing the door.

you try to ignore the lingering look tooru fixates you with as you make your way to the boys.

" tooooruuuu~" your roommate all but throws herself into her boyfriend, giggly and happy to see him. he returns the embrace, peppering her cheery face in kisses before returning her greeting "hi princess, you look ravishing as usual."

you fight to keep the cringe of your face at the nickname, opting to ignore their sugary-sweet pda in favor of hajime. you link your arms behind his neck before blinking up at him, pressing a chaste kiss to his chin before grinning cheekily " hi bubs, missed you today". his own hands settle on your hips, rubbing softly at the material of your dress before smiling down at you. he mumbles his own greeting before pressing a kiss to your temple, beginning to drag you inside.

you don't miss the familiar stare of someone staring down your neck.

all too quickly, between games of cup pong, kings cup, and random shots; your separated from hajime and squished between hanamaki and matsukawa on a ratty couch in the garage with an odd group of people. you're vaguely aware of matsukawa's arm thrown over your shoulders.

you don't try to move it.

you're half engaged in the conversation going on, between being drunk and swimming in the heady smell of weed, you're just kinda sitting there zoning in and out. there's a sizable bong being passed around, and despite only having met them a handful of times prior, hanamaki and matsukawa seem to know better than to offer you a hit-- at least that's what you tell yourself. across from you, there's a blond girl cutting lines of coke on a handheld mirror, looking up briefly with a raised eyebrow in question. you've met her prior, you've literally done lines with her, but her name is escaping you.

you feel stupid.

you're about to nod along when matsukawa's arm is thrown off you, two hands coming down on your shoulders in a bruising grip. you wince when you meet tooru's chocolate eyes.

he looks kinda pissed.

"y/n ! I've been looking alllll over for you !" his voice is as princely as ever, but the sneer on his face and the barely there anger under his tone pisses you off. you decide to push him before he starts pushing you.

"where's 'princess' at? can't believe you left my poor roommate all alone in this house" you tsk and pout, shaking your head. tooru's face momentarily sours before he's looping around the couch and dragging you to your feet, pulling you to the door without a word. you glance back briefly at hanamaki and matsukawa, but they look just as put off as you.

weird.

you follow, not sure if it's curiosity or just being drunk for you simpered obedience. you're led past hajime's room where you hear noise-- notably hajime and someone else but you can't think too hard about it with tooru's tightening grip on your wrist. this would be nice if it were hajime pulling you along. you stop in front of a door at the very end of the hall.

it's tooru's room.

volleyball trophies and keepsakes line the shelves, along with other commemorative keepsakes. a picture of him and your roommate, him and hajime, a group picture of the four of you as well. you're about the prod for answers when he beats you to it.

"don't worry about my 'princess', she with hajime right now!" he sneers down at you, loving the confusion that crosses your pretty little face before continuing "i figured i'd come check in on you since hajime seems to be doing a shit job of it." you're only partially surprised by the drop from his usual cheerful speech and vocabulary, but to hear him come at hajime unabashedly is strange.

it's actually really fucking weird all things considered.

"what do you mean by that? why's he with her..." and not me? the sentence practically finishes itself and tooru's sneer grows as your mind begins to tumble over itself. " you know, maybe he just can't handle you anymore? he's always bitching to me about you" tooru sighs, hand raised to his chin thoughtfully. something in your chest aches at the thought, mind nowhere near sober enough to see past tooru winding you up.

"you know, I tried arguing with hajime about it on your behalf. sure you're needy as hell and a borderline nympho but you're soooo cute! if i wasn't dating my princess, I wouldn't hesitate to steal you away~" it comes out teasingly, but his words are downright awful. you're not needy...right? sure you like sex, but hajime never complained about it.

you kinda feel like shit.

turning on your heels, you make for the door before tooru latches onto your wrist again. that same bruising grip back again, you whirl on him ready to lay into him before he shakes an orange pill bottle in your face. eyes narrowed, you glare up at him. what the hell is he up too?

"to make it up to you for bumming your night and causing you to miss out saeko's cheap shit, why don't we have a little pick me up?" his sneer is gone now, simmered down to what could be a genuine smile. you weigh your options, dull red flashing lights go off in your mind but safety be damned-- you need a pick me up. "fine, fine. i'd rather get something from you than just anybody." tooru looks a little surprised at your admittance, but you plop yourself on his bed before you can stare up at his pretty face any longer. he turns his back to you in favor of his desk, clearing space and procuring his debit card and a dollar bill before popping the lid on the pills and grabbing one.

you don't watch him crush the pill, and that's your fatal mistake.

all too soon, zoned out staring around the room while lost in your pitiful thoughts, tooru calls you over. "you're a big girl, I'm sure you know how to snort it" his voice is teasing, but you fail to notice just how focused he looks staring down at you. you grab a cut straw, no longer than two inches, and line one end to your nose and the other to the white line.

it feels wrong.

you know you're fucked as the last of the pretty white line vanishes through the end of a cut-up straw and into your nose. that too pretty smile tooru's wearing almost looks sinister as the feeling of prickles dances across your brain and the feeling of slight numbness snakes up your appendages. it's cemented further when drowsiness sinks in.

worst of all, you know you've lost when tooru's featherlight touch across your bottom lip has you sucking his thumb like your boyfriend isn't somewhere else in the same house.

god this so wrong, but the way tooru ushers you backwards until the back of your knees meet his bed, and you fall on your back feels nice. everything feels nice, his thumb in your mouth, his comforter on your back. the way he's staring down at you, laser-focused on just you... it's very nice.

but incredibly wrong.

hajime is in a room nearby, the fact eats at you.

tooru withdraws his hand from your face, thumb briefly pressing along your plush lips before crawling over you. he buries his head in your neck, nibbling and sucking along the length of it like a starved dog. you whimper, it's wrong but why does it feel so good? a particularly nasty bite forces a moan from your mouth, mind spinning at the pleasure despite the numbness.

you're terrible for getting off on this, you're a terrible girlfriend. tooru, evidently, is a terrible boyfriend. he drugged you but who's gonna believe you? you did agree to do it, you didn't ask what it was. your thoughts are spiraling.

tooru's hand leaves a blazing trail up your thigh, sliding up underneath your little dress and squeezing your upper thigh. you don't like this. weakly, you grab onto tooru's wrist in an attempt to halt his movements. he shakes it off, kissing along your jaw before mumbling to what you assume is more-so to himself than you.

"knew i was gonna fuck you when you strolled up in this, hajime's really missing out tonight"

tears bubble to your eyes.

you really don't want this.

Hello! Your work is always so good, especially for this event! May I place an order for a flower bouquet with sea salt caramels and sugar stars (lactation) for Jade Leech and a fem!reader? Thank you for your time!

yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: slight yandere, nsfw, drugging/use of potions, lactation, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, brief mentions of pregnancy note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

In hindsight, it was foolish to accept the unlabeled vial from Jade. Anyone with half a mind would know to turn the other way and start running if he approached them, dressed primly in his lab coat and goggles, holding his newest creation with a twisted sort of pride mirroring that of a mad scientist boasting their prized monster to the world. But you didn’t have much of a choice, having been indebted to him ever since you failed to uphold your end of the deal you struck with Azul, and by now you’ve grown accustomed to taste-testing all of the absurd potions he concocts.

Initially, you thought you could get out of obeying Azul’s every command if you just acted clumsy and brainless, and it had worked at first. Azul had decided you’d be better off in the kitchen rather than on the floor taking and delivering orders. But then the kitchen almost went up in flames and so you were quickly demoted to inventory and then stocking, both tasks you proved to be abysmal at. Azul had attempted to pawn you off to Floyd, who was not in the mood to keep you as his own, and so you soon found yourself at Jade’s doorstep, who was so very willing to welcome you with a pleasant simper. 

You know you shouldn’t be surprised when the effects of his potions stray into embarrassing territory. He’s always had a talent for crafting alchemical mischief. Last week, it was a potent aphrodisiac. The week before that was a potion that had temporarily blessed you (or cursed you depending on how you view it) with fins and gills, and you had to spend the entire day in the Mostro Lounge aquarium while Jade fashioned a cure, deliberately taking his time just to spite you.

Today’s potion is a little different. At first you assumed he’d mixed a failure when nothing immediately happened, but within minutes you began to feel the strangest sensation in your breasts. It was a dull, uncomfortable ache; you thought your breasts had gotten fuller in the span of a few minutes and you’d even poked at them when Jade had turned away, marveling at the pudgy heaviness. Jade had asked you how you were faring; you know he only cares about the results of his potion and not what said results do to your mental and physical health. The question hardly reached your ears because, at that very moment, liquid dampened the padding of your bra. 

With eyes blown wide, you looked down your shirt and into your bra to find two wet patches, growing significantly in size the more you stood slack-jawed. 

Jade presses himself against you before you can make your escape, his gloved hands tugging your shirt up and over your head, leaving you in just your bra. He pulls it up to observe the stains and then your breasts, which are leaking thin, translucent trails. 

“Fascinating,” he mumbles, a word spoken in breathy amazement, and he gives your breast an experimental squeeze. Milk comes out in creamy spurts, and you suppress a flustered whimper. 

“N-Not fascinating!” you hiss, squirming against him. “What the hell did you give me, you creep?! What sort of magic drug—”

“I couldn’t possibly tell you. That’s why I had you test it, and from the looks of it I’ve managed to brew something very entertaining.”

You roll your eyes and swat at his reaching hand. “Well, fix it. This feels...” You swallow thickly when he pinches your perky, glistening nipple between his thumb and forefinger to coax more milk out. Your voice falters. “F-Feels weird...”

“Oh? Would you be willing to elaborate?”

Not really, you think, but if complying is the only way to move towards a cure you’ll have to enlighten him.

“It just feels...” Your hand closes around his and you lean against him, nearly boneless when he squeezes your other breast. It prompts a soft, sweet sigh from your lips. “It feels like... Like when you stretch really good and your joints pop.”

“Ah, so it’s relieving. In that case, it would be a shame to leave you in such a messy state. Allow me to help.”

You weigh his words on your internal scale. “Fine,” you eventually mutter, brows furrowed. “But I don’t owe you anything in return. You were the one who made that potion, so you take responsibility.”

“And you were the one who drank it.”

“Only because I had to! If I wasn’t stuck with you, I’d never—ooh!” A particularly rough squeeze has you arching your back against him. Milk runs down your chest in thick streams, far more plentiful than before. You slap your hands over your mouth, face flaring with warmth. 

Jade chuckles, low and husky. “You were saying?”

“S-Shut up.”

“I couldn’t possibly when you seem so keen to engage in delightful conversation,” he says with a hum, reaching over to pluck something from the shelf.

You follow his movements with a frown, soon realizing that the object in his hand is a glass jar. His intentions dawn on you at once. “You can’t be serious. You’re a freak, Jade.” It’s at that same moment when something pokes your ass from behind, and your face contorts in disgust. “Jaaade, you’re gross! I’m not helping you with that! I’m only your contractual taste-tester, not your contractual...” You trail off in embarrassment. “Y-You know what I mean.”

“I’m aware,” he says dismissively, positioning the jar under your breast. “I’m not very partial to wasting ingredients. Besides, I’m certain you taste as appetizing as you look. Shall I make something out of this and serve it to Azul and Floyd for their critique? Or shall I keep it all to myself? I’m quite tempted to do the latter. You see, I’ve always wondered...” His voice lowers into a whisper, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. You shiver, chewing your lip to muffle your groans when he twists your nipple roughly, filling the glass with some of your milk. “How would you taste if you were truly pregnant?”

His fingers dig into soft flesh, handling you with the same skillful precision a farmer might possess when milking a heifer. His grip is painfully possessive, but that’s the last thing on your mind when his words leave you speechless. 

“I suppose I can satisfy myself with this for now.” The jar is already halfway full. Your body feels as if it’s on fire; part of you wonders if he mixed an aphrodisiac into that potion because there’s simply no way you’ll find relief after just one filled jar. Perhaps you’d feel more blissful pleasure if it weren’t for his eerie admissions filling your head like a swarm of terrible flies, buzzing incessantly about how, if you were pregnant, you’d have no choice but to follow him into the future as his contractual obligation and then his wife and then a mother to lots of baby eels. “Although these games are never fun after the fact... What a pity.”

“W-What do you mean?”

“All pleasant things have time limits. I suspect this potion will only last for the day, and your milk will only stay so fresh. Truly a shame.” Jade’s teeth prick your ear; there’s a vicious smirk in his voice when he speaks next. “I wonder... Have you ever considered names? You might need them if I’m to have my fill of your milk in the foreseeable future.”

You know this is far from a humorous situation, but you still manage an awkward laugh. “Don’t say weird stuff like that.”

Jade chuckles and sets the jar on the shelf, turning you so that you can face him. Though he sounds composed, his face is flushed with arousal. He lowers to your height, taking hold of both of your leaky, milky tits with his hands, studying them with such focus it’s as if he’s been charmed.

“I wonder how many I could give you. How full you’d look. How soft you would become...” he mumbles, mostly to himself, but you catch it anyway.

“Keep dreaming, Jade.”

“I most certainly will.”

Dark Currents (Intoxicating Fear Fanfic)

I: Dark Currents

@chaotic-orphan

TW: choking, strangling, strangulation, stalking, drugging, intimate whumper, intimidating whumper, disoriented whumpee.

The night was a deep blanket of silence as Kit walked home, the distant sounds of the city fading behind him. After a gruelling shift at the hero tower, fatigue clung to him like a shadow. The dark alleyway ahead felt especially foreboding, its walls lined with graffiti that whispered stories of forgotten souls. Streetlights flickered, casting unsettling shadows that danced across the damp pavement, creating an eerie mosaic of light and dark.

Just as Kit turned a corner, a figure lunged from the depths of the shadows—Ambrose.

Before Kit could react, Ambrose tackled him to the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He gasped as Ambrose’s hands tightened around his throat, panic surging within him like a tidal wave. The chill of the concrete seeped into his skin, contrasting sharply with the heat of his rising fear.

"You thought you could escape me?" Ambrose’s voice was cold, filled with a twisted satisfaction that sent shivers down Kit’s spine.

"Let me go!" Kit shouted, desperation creeping into his voice. He strained to summon his electric abilities, but Ambrose’s grip was like iron, dulling his spark, leaving him feeling powerless.

Ambrose leaned closer, a cruel smile curling his lips, the flickering streetlight illuminating his features in a sinister glow. "You’re not in control here."

Kit’s heart raced as he twisted beneath Ambrose, trying to break free. With a sudden burst of strength, he managed to throw Ambrose off balance, but it was temporary. Ambrose was on him again, pinning him down, his hands constricting around Kit’s throat like a vice, the world narrowing to a painful focus.

"Why did you come back?" Kit gasped, struggling for air.

"Because you need to come with me," Ambrose replied, his tone unyielding, as if he were delivering a decree. "You belong with me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen."

Kit’s mind raced, memories flashing like lightning. The last time he had seen Ambrose, it had been under vastly different circumstances—filled with a familial solidarity, occasional laughter echoing in the air, not this violent chaos.

In his mind's eye, Kit recalled Ambrose and Jude, silhouetted against the city lights, locked in a passionate kiss, their joy stark against the backdrop of a darkening sky. They had looked so carefree, so oblivious to the storm brewing around them.

It was just a rumour, Ambrose’s voice echoed in Kit's thoughts, a haunting refrain. Jude and I... it meant nothing.

With a sudden surge of adrenaline, Kit managed to shove Ambrose off him, scrambling to his feet. But Ambrose quickly recovered, grabbing Kit’s arm and pulling him close again, the smell of sweat and cologne enveloping Kit in a dizzying haze.

"Let’s talk," Ambrose said, his grip still firm, the intensity of his gaze unyielding.

Reluctantly, Kit followed, feeling the tension crackle in the air between them like static electricity. They walked to a nearby bar, its neon sign flickering ominously, casting a ghostly glow on the cracked pavement. Inside, the atmosphere felt heavy, thick with unspoken words and the scent of stale beer mingling with the faint aroma of cigarette smoke.

Max, the bar owner, greeted them with a nod, his weathered face a map of years spent in the dim light. "What’ll it be?"

"Two shots of whiskey," Ambrose ordered, his tone lacking warmth, as if he were merely playing a role in a dark theatre.

As they settled onto the bar stools, the faux leather cracked beneath them, and Kit couldn’t shake the unease that clung to him like a second skin. "What about Jude?" he pressed, muted anger flaring again, the question like a lit fuse.

Ambrose waved a dismissive hand, irritation flickering across his features. "Forget him. We have more pressing matters."

The whiskey arrived, amber liquid glinting under the low light, and they downed the shots, the burn cutting through the tension like a knife. Ambrose leaned in closer, his voice low and conspiratorial. "You still don’t understand, do you? You’re meant for more than this life."

Kit narrowed his eyes, anger bubbling beneath the surface, a tempest ready to erupt. "You think you can just show up and demand I leave everything behind?"

Ambrose’s gaze was intense, as if he were peering into Kit’s very soul. "This place is holding you back," he replied. "You need to step into the light with me."

Kit felt the weight of Ambrose's words, but the alcohol was dulling his resolve, making the room sway slightly.

Unbeknownst to Kit, Ambrose had slipped something into his drink. After another sip, a wave of dizziness washed over him, the world spinning around him like a carousel gone awry.

"What did you do?" he slurred, struggling to stay upright, the edges of his vision blurring.

"Just a little something to help you relax," Ambrose said casually, a predatory glint in his eyes that sent a shiver down Kit’s spine.

Kit’s strength faded, and he felt the ghost of Ambrose’s hand tighten around his throat again, the imaginary pressure making it hard to breathe, suffocating him with fear.

"Why are you doing this?" Kit gasped, panic rising like bile.

"Because I need you to understand," Ambrose said, his tone chilling, devoid of warmth. "You’re mine."

As they stumbled back to Kit's apartment, Ambrose’s presence loomed over him like a storm cloud, dark and oppressive. Inside, Ambrose closed the door with a slow, deliberate motion, the sound echoing ominously in the small space.

"This isn’t over," Kit whispered, fear and anger churning in his chest like a storm at sea.

Ambrose stepped closer, his expression shifting to something darker, more primal. "We need to talk about us."

"Us?" Kit echoed, scepticism lacing his voice, as if he were trying to make sense of a riddle with no answer.

Ambrose held his gaze, eyes intense and fierce. "I didn’t abandon you. I had my reasons, but now I’m back for you."

Kit’s heart raced, caught between anger and the flicker of something darker, something he didn’t want to acknowledge. "You think it’s that simple?"

The pressure around his throat returned, tightening just enough to send panic coursing through him like a wildfire. "You need to listen," Ambrose commanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"You can’t just expect me to forgive you," Kit managed to say, breathless, the words escaping in a whine.

"I came back for you," Ambrose insisted, his grip still firm, unyielding. "You have to understand."

Kit felt the pressure building, the edges of his vision blurring as darkness threatened to creep in. "You’re hurting me," he gasped, his voice barely a whisper.

Ambrose released him slightly, but his eyes remained locked on Kit’s, a predatory intensity that made Kit’s pulse race. "I won’t let you go that easily."

"What do you want from me?" Kit managed, desperation creeping into his voice, the weight of the world pressing down on him.

"I want you by my side," Ambrose replied, voice low and menacing, each word dripping with a power that was both alluring and terrifying. "But first, you need to know what you’re getting into."

Kit glared at Ambrose, heart racing, feeling trapped. "This isn’t love—or whatever you think this is. You’re just trying to control me."

Ambrose stepped closer, the tension between them palpable, electric. "I’m trying to save you. You don’t see it yet, but I’m the only one who can."

"I can take care of myself!" Kit shouted, his anger finally boiling over, a defiant spark igniting in his chest.

With a swift movement, Ambrose seized Kit again, his grip tightening until Kit felt the world closing in around him, darkness threatening to swallow him whole. "You’ll understand," Ambrose said, voice cold and unyielding.

Just as Kit felt he might pass out, Ambrose released him, stepping back, breathing heavily, as if he were wrestling with his own demons. "I want you back, Kit. But you need to accept that I won’t let you go."

Kit staggered, gasping for air, the fear mingling with something else he couldn’t quite place, an unsettling mix of dread and yearning. "What have you done?"

Ambrose’s expression turned serious, the weight of his words heavy in the air. "I’m not playing games. This is about survival."

As dawn broke, pale light filtering through the grimy window, Kit knew he had to confront Ambrose and figure out what he truly wanted. The weight of the night pressed down on him, suffocating yet exhilarating, but he couldn’t ignore the twisted bond that kept pulling them together.

This was only the beginning, and Kit had no idea where it would lead them. The struggle for control would continue, but one thing was certain: he wouldn’t back down that easily.

Continued here

Dark Currents (Intoxicating Fear Fanfic)

II: The Edge of the Knife

@chaotic-orphan

TW: stalking, drugging, intimate whumper, intimidating whumper, disoriented whumpee.

A thin, pale light filtered through the grimy window of Kit’s apartment, casting long shadows across the room. Dust motes hung in the air, untouched by the frail dawn that did little to banish the clinging darkness. The night had been a war of attrition, and now, with the arrival of morning, Kit felt no more victorious than when it had started. His body was heavy, his limbs tingling with the remnants of whatever Ambrose had slipped into his drink, and his mind was a haze of confusion and anger.

In the corner of the small, cluttered apartment, Ambrose stood motionless, his silhouette sharp against the dim light. His expression was unreadable, his dark eyes fixed on Kit with an intensity that made Kit’s skin prickle with unease. There was something about Ambrose that always felt too much—like he took up too much space, like the very air around him warped under the weight of his presence. It had been that way since the moment they’d met, but now, standing on the edge of something neither of them fully understood, it felt suffocating.

Kit pushed himself up from the bed, his heart pounding in his chest. The silence between them was thick, electric, like the air before a storm. He needed answers—needed to know what Ambrose truly wanted, why he was here, and what had driven him to this point. But most of all, Kit needed to understand the strange, twisted connection that seemed to keep pulling them together, no matter how many times he tried to walk away.

Ambrose’s face was shadowed, but his eyes glinted in the low light, dark and unreadable. He stepped forward, his boots crunching softly on the worn wooden floor, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. Kit’s pulse quickened, his muscles tensing as Ambrose closed the distance between them, the air between them tight with tension.

"I’m not playing games," Ambrose said, his voice low and gravelly, each word heavy with meaning. "This is about survival."

Kit swallowed hard, his throat dry, his eyes narrowing as he forced himself to meet Ambrose’s gaze. "Survival?" he scoffed, his voice hoarse, barely masking the fear that coiled deep in his gut. "Is that what you call this?"

Ambrose’s lips twitched into a smirk, but there was no humour behind it—only something dark, something primal. "You have no idea what’s coming," he said, his voice a quiet threat. "I’ve sacrificed everything for this. For you."

Kit’s heart stuttered in his chest, his breath catching as Ambrose’s words hung in the air between them. The weight of the night pressed down on him, suffocating, the twisted bond between them thrumming like a live wire. He wanted to push Ambrose away, to demand answers, but his body felt sluggish, weighed down by the lingering effects of whatever had been in his drink. His mind raced, but his limbs were slow to follow, like moving through water.

"You don’t get it, do you?" Ambrose’s voice cut through the silence like a blade, sharp and dangerous. He stepped closer, his presence looming, filling the small space with a suffocating intensity. "This isn’t about what you want."

Kit’s breath hitched as Ambrose’s hand shot out, gripping his shoulder with a force that was both possessive and commanding. Kit’s body tensed instinctively, his muscles locking as Ambrose shoved him backward. His legs hit the edge of the bed, and he collapsed onto it with a grunt, the suddenness of the action stealing the air from his lungs.

The mattress creaked beneath him, the springs groaning in protest as Ambrose followed, his movements fluid and predatory. He climbed onto the bed with a grace that belied the danger simmering just beneath the surface, his knees pressing into the mattress on either side of Kit’s hips.

Kit’s pulse spiked, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts as Ambrose’s hands found his wrists, pinning them to the bed with a strength that made Kit’s heart race. The heat of Ambrose’s body pressed down on him, their faces inches apart, and Kit could feel the weight of his gaze, intense and unyielding.

"You don’t understand how far I’m willing to go," Ambrose murmured, his voice low and rough, vibrating with a dangerous edge. His eyes bore into Kit’s, filled with something raw and unrelenting—something that made Kit’s stomach twist with a mix of fear and something darker, something he was too afraid to name.

Kit’s mind screamed at him to fight back, to push Ambrose away, but his body felt frozen, trapped under the weight of Ambrose’s gaze and the suffocating tension that crackled between them. Panic curled in his gut, but he forced it down, glaring up at Ambrose with as much defiance as he could muster.

"Let me go," Kit hissed through gritted teeth, his voice tight with frustration and fear. "You can’t just—"

"I can," Ambrose interrupted, his grip tightening on Kit’s wrists. His tone was a quiet, dangerous promise. "And I will."

The room felt impossibly small, the air thick with the weight of unspoken words and the suffocating tension that hung between them. Kit’s chest heaved with shallow breaths, his mind spinning as he tried to make sense of the situation, of the weight behind Ambrose’s words, of the twisted bond that seemed to pull them together despite everything.

"I don’t want your sacrifices," Kit spat, his voice hoarse, barely holding onto the thread of his defiance. "I don’t need them."

Ambrose’s lips curled into something between a smirk and a snarl. His fingers flexed around Kit’s wrists, his grip firm and unrelenting. "You don’t know what you need. Not yet."

With a sudden, violent motion, Ambrose leaned down, his breath hot against Kit’s ear. "But you will."

Kit’s heart raced, the sound of it pounding in his ears. Ambrose’s words sent a shiver down his spine, and for a moment, he couldn’t tell if it was fear or something darker, something he was too afraid to admit. His mind screamed at him to fight, to break free, but his body felt sluggish, the weight of Ambrose’s presence pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket.

Ambrose pulled back just enough to meet Kit’s gaze again, his eyes burning with a fierce, unrelenting intensity. "Fight me all you want," he said, his voice low and deliberate, each word a dark promise. "But I’m not letting you go."

Kit’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, his mind spinning, the weight of Ambrose’s words settling over him like a leaden cloak. He wanted to scream, to demand answers, to push Ambrose away—but something in Ambrose’s gaze held him captive, something he wasn’t sure he could escape from, no matter how much he tried.

And deep down, despite the fear that churned in his gut, a small part of him wondered if Ambrose was right.

Continued here

Dark Currents (Intoxicating Fear Fanfic)

III: Between the Lines

@chaotic-orphan

TW: stalking, drugging, implied noncon, intimate whumper, intimidating whumper, disoriented whumpee.

Kit stared up at the cracked ceiling, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. Ambrose’s presence was a weight that pinned him to the bed, but it wasn’t just physical. There was something else, something darker that twisted between them, something that made Kit’s skin crawl and his pulse race.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched thin, taut like a wire pulled to its breaking point. Outside, the city was waking up, the distant sounds of traffic and early morning bustle filtering through the window. But inside the apartment, time felt frozen, suspended in the crackling tension between them.

Ambrose’s grip on Kit’s wrists loosened, but he didn’t move away. He stayed there, hovering over Kit, his eyes still locked on his with a fierce, burning intensity. Kit’s mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of the night before. The bar, the drink, the way Ambrose had watched him from across the room like a hawk circling its prey. And then… the blackouts. The missing hours.

"What the fuck did you do to me?" Kit finally managed to choke out, his voice hoarse.

Ambrose’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. "I didn’t do anything you didn’t want, Kit."

Kit’s stomach twisted at the implication, but there was no time to dwell on it. The fog in his mind was beginning to lift, and with it came a flood of memories—disjointed flashes of the previous night. The dimly lit bar, the feeling of eyes on him, the cold touch of Ambrose’s hand on his arm as he’d leaned in, too close, whispering something that Kit couldn’t quite remember.

Kit’s jaw clenched. He pulled against Ambrose’s grip, and this time, Ambrose let go, sitting back slightly, though his knees still bracketed Kit’s hips, keeping him in place.

"I want answers," Kit demanded, his voice stronger now. "Why are you here? What do you want from me?"

Ambrose’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. "I already told you. This is about survival. Do you think all of this is some kind of game?"

Kit shook his head, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Survival? What are you even talking about? You show up out of nowhere, drug me, drag me back here, and now you're talking about survival like I'm supposed to understand what the fuck is going on?"

Ambrose’s gaze flickered, something unreadable passing over his face before he looked away, his jaw tight. For the first time, Kit saw a crack in the armour—a flicker of something deeper, something vulnerable. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the same cold, unrelenting intensity.

"You don’t know what’s coming," Ambrose said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. "But you will."

Kit’s frustration turned to anger. He pushed himself up, forcing Ambrose to shift back slightly to avoid being knocked off balance. The movement was sudden, a surge of adrenaline cutting through the lingering fog in Kit’s veins.

"Enough with the cryptic bullshit, Ambrose!" Kit snapped, his voice rising. "I’m done playing whatever game this is. You want to talk about survival? Fine. Start explaining. Now."

For a long moment, Ambrose didn’t respond. His eyes flicked to the window, then back to Kit, as if weighing his next words carefully. The silence stretched on, the tension between them thick and suffocating.

Finally, Ambrose exhaled a slow, measured breath. "There are forces at work you don’t understand. Dark forces. And you… you’re in the middle of it, whether you like it or not."

Kit blinked, his anger momentarily faltering. "Dark forces?" he echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Are you serious?"

Ambrose’s expression hardened. "Deadly serious."

Kit shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "This is insane. You expect me to believe—"

"I don’t expect you to believe anything," Ambrose interrupted, his voice sharp. "But that doesn’t change the fact that it’s true. You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The strange things happening around you? The sense that something’s been watching you, following you?"

Kit opened his mouth to argue, to deny it—but the words died in his throat. Because the truth was… he had felt it. For weeks now, there had been an odd sense of unease gnawing at him, a feeling that something was just out of sight, lurking in the shadows. The lights in his apartment flickering for no reason, the strange cold spots that made his breath fog in the middle of summer, the nightmares that left him drenched in sweat, heart racing.

And then there was the strange encounter in the alleyway a few nights ago—the way the shadows had seemed to move, to shift and twist as if they had a life of their own. He’d written it off as a trick of the light, a figment of his imagination. But now…?

Kit swallowed hard. "What… what are you saying?"

Ambrose’s eyes bore into his, the weight of his words heavy with truth. "I’m saying that the world isn’t what you think it is. There are things out there—things that want you, things that will stop at nothing to get to you. And if you don’t start taking this seriously, you’re going to end up dead. Or worse."

Kit’s breath hitched in his throat. Dead? Or worse? The room felt suddenly too small, the walls closing in around him. He shook his head, trying to make sense of it all, but it was like trying to hold water in his hands—everything kept slipping through his fingers.

"I don’t understand," Kit whispered, his voice barely audible. "Why me? What do they want from me?"

Ambrose’s expression softened, just for a moment. "It’s not just you. It’s us. We’re connected, Kit. More than you realise. That’s why I’ve been watching you. That’s why I’ve been trying to protect you."

Kit’s heart skipped a beat. "Protect me? You drugged me and dragged me back here against my will!"

Ambrose’s lips pressed into a thin line. "I didn’t have a choice. They were closing in on you. If I hadn’t intervened…"

He trailed off, but the unspoken words hung heavy in the air.

Kit felt a chill crawl down his spine. "Who are they?"

Ambrose hesitated, then shook his head. "It’s better if you don’t know. Not yet."

Kit’s frustration flared again. "I deserve to know what’s happening to me!"

Ambrose’s eyes flashed with anger, but it wasn’t directed at Kit—it was something deeper, something simmering just beneath the surface. "You’ll know soon enough," he said, his voice tight. "But first… you need to trust me."

Kit let out a bitter laugh. "Trust you? After everything you’ve done?"

Ambrose’s gaze softened again, and for the first time, Kit saw something like regret in his eyes. "I know I’ve made mistakes. But I’m trying to keep you alive. You don’t have to like me. You don’t even have to forgive me. But if you want to survive this, you’re going to need me."

Kit stared at him, his mind racing, torn between disbelief and the growing sense that maybe—just maybe—Ambrose was telling the truth. The strange occurrences, the feeling of being watched, the sense that something was closing in on him… it all lined up, even if Kit didn’t want to admit it.

But trusting Ambrose? That felt like a step too far.

"I don’t know if I can trust you," Kit said finally, his voice quiet but firm. "But I’m not going to let you call the shots anymore. If we’re going to do this, we do it on my terms."

Ambrose studied him for a long moment, then gave a slow nod. "Fair enough."

Kit exhaled, the tension in his chest easing just slightly. "So… what happens now?"

Ambrose shuffled off the bed, finally giving Kit space to breathe. He crossed the room to the window, looking out at the city below. "Now," he said, his voice low, "we get ready. Because they’ll be coming for you soon."

Kit’s stomach twisted with unease. "Who?"

Ambrose turned, his eyes dark and serious. "The shadows."

Continued here

cw: bad/creepy caretaker, caretaker turned whumper, emeto, noncon (implied) drugging

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