#tw: drugging

[revehae]

weak (r. fantasies)

warnings: smut, noncon, virgin!jisung x (f) anemic!reader, drugging

wc. 990

i been writing this on and off for 24 days and youre telling me its only 990 words im not a serious person at all… fake news its longer now cause i suddenly added one (1) sentence. thank you @neocentral for holding a gun to my head

for two entire days, jisung was antsy. even the mere thought of you, no matter how brief, made a cool wind sweep over his shoulders and his gut tighten uncomfortably.

he knew what he was going to do, and he knew how he was going to do it, but even more so, he knew that it was wrong.

but if he knew that it was wrong, then why did he resolve himself to do it anyway? why did he smile in your face as if he didn’t know that he was about to hurt you? why didn’t he give jeno back his stuff, instead of holding onto it all this time?

jisung didn’t have any idea what it was, other than what jeno had told him while pressing the tiny bag into his chest. colorless, odorless, tasteless, and she’ll be out long enough for you to do all the dirty, perverted stuff you’re too scared to do while she’s awake.

but the truth was that compared to the thought of doing it while you were awake, this terrified jisung tenfold. would it still hurt you, bother you? would you feel the soreness between your thighs and instantly know what he had done? would you hate him more because you wouldn’t remember?

those were the thoughts hurtling through his head when you got up to use the bathroom. but if he was going to do it, he had to act quickly. your nightstand was littered with prescriptions pills and jisung knew you took the iron supplements every night. he poured the powder into your water bottle, watching it disappear as he shook it.

jisung’s heart raced at a rhythm he never knew could be possible when you came back and grabbed a hold of your water bottle. you didn’t make a face, drinking it like nothing was the matter. and he was surprised by how quickly you were out. in the few minutes it took to take effect, you didn’t even have time to become sleepy.

for a long minute, jisung didn’t even seem to remember why he had done this anymore. he was staring at your face, poking your cheek to see if you would react, but you didn’t stir. he worried that maybe you were dead, but when he put his finger to the base of your neck, there was still a normal pulse.

jisung’s breath quickened when he realized all of the things he could do to you right now. he didn’t dive in headfirst like he thought he would, his fingers absentmindedly trailing your soft skin first. he started with your neck, since his hand was already there, gently tightening his fingers around it. he wanted to mark you so badly, but he couldn’t.

he brought his thump up to your bottom lip, overcome by the formerly suppressed urge to kiss you, and with nothing to stop him, he pressed his lips to yours. he was mildly annoyed that you couldn’t kiss him back, but on the bright side, he still had the opportunity to touch you.

to do all the dirty, perverted stuff he was too scared to do while you were awake, as jeno put it.

his words always echoed in jisung’s head, influencing him in ways that were less than healthy. you could easily take her, if you weren’t so weak in the knees, jeno would tease, nudging jisung painfully. she’s anemic, for fuck’s sake. she can’t be that strong. 

jisung pulled back to gape at you in your night gown. he always thought you looked good in them. the way they gave away your collarbone and the little lace ribbon where your cleavage stopped, and the way the cute sleeves cuffed at your wrists was endearing to him.

but right now, as he gingerly bunched up the dress and caught sight of your lilac, cotton panties, the only thing he could think about was how desperately he ached to be inside you, to feel your sticky, throbbing walls cling around his virgin cock. to prove that he wasn’t a coward, that he wasn’t weak like you were. 

and for that reason, he couldn’t be slow and steady anymore. he knew there was no clock on him, nothing pacing him and nothing threatening to tear him away from the warmth of you, but his self-restraint had already worn thin and he was running on empty.

jisung convinced himself that you wanted him as he sheathed himself deep inside you with a guttural groan, every impatient inch of him. it may not have come from your mouth, but the slick somewhat facilitating his entry was answer enough. you may not have known what was happening, but your body was hyper aware.

god, jisung’s was, too. he couldn’t resist the tight squeeze, the way your pussy gripped him for dear life, and he tipped his head forward as his hands gripped your thighs to anchor himself before he fell too deep. even they were warm, the most cute and supple pair.

his eyes were completely closed, winced shut at the first pulse of your warm and tight cunt around his dick. he knew you would have loved him, if you could feel him. he knew he was big enough to please you. the guys too often teased him, saying he had all those inches, but not a hint of what to do with any.

but jisung knew right now. driving his hips passionately into yours, big hands clasping at your soft, moisturized skin, he knew he could make you feel things unimaginable. the sounds you were unknowingly yanking out of his throat, he could easily pull out of you. the way his face tensed with pleasure, he was certain he could make short work of you, too. 

“so weak,” jisung whispered into deaf ears, burying his face in your neck, and breathing in your ravishing scent. he imagined you calling him sungie like you always did, and it only made him grunt. “it’s okay. i’ll protect you. like i always have.”

[merakiui]

Apocalypse!au idea where you’re the leader of an all-female commune that’s doing very well for yourselves in these trying times only for the other groups to come over when they find your location. They all need wives to add to their struggling communes, and aren’t you being selfish hiding yourselves away like this? They’re going to get you to join them, whether it be by persuasion or force.

Truly so selfish… how could you? :( tsk tsk……

The intruders aren’t going to fight you. After all, they need you and the others healthy and safe, so they’ll employ every other tactic that isn’t nearly so forceful or stressful on you (and your reproductive and other internal systems). Do you not realize it’s your duty as a woman to help repopulate the world? Hiding so many unclaimed brides/wives/breeding sows in your commune and living in secret without any men to protect you, to look after you, to knock you up???? Unthinkable!

You’re forcibly taken from your safe haven and made wife to one of the leaders/second-in-commands/eligible men, kept docile and pliable on aphrodisiacs and sleeping pills and muscle relaxants. When you aren’t being fed and bathed and looked after, you’re being bred every other day. It baffles your husband that you’d try to keep this perfect pussy all to yourself, especially when you’re at an age where you’re most fertile and should be having kids!!!! The world isn’t going to repopulate itself, after all.

Oh, do you despise your (forced) husband for all that he’s done and put you through. You refuse to give into him, struggling even though it’s weak and futile. Maybe your mind will change once you’re soft and round with his child(ren). :) and maybe you’ll eventually learn that this is where you belong. That it’s your job to sit on your husband’s cock and let him pump you full of cum. That you don’t need to worry about anything other than having his children, performing all of your motherly and wifely duties, and being his pretty, perpetually pregnant bride.

[neowonderland]

Bully! Haechan + Breeding

Pairing: Bully Haechan x reader Warnings: 18+, smut, noncon, drugging, babytrapping, breeding Wc: 0.9k

Dark Content, Minor please DNI

Disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction. I do not condone the actions of any characters in this story and the actions do not reflect the idols in any way.

Haechan swears he hates you.

He swears he hates everything about you, from your full cheeks to your lips that you bite in concentration, to your soft voice, to the way you’re such a pushover for others, to the way you stumble over your words when you get nervous. 

Haechan makes it apparent he hates you too, from the way he complains about you to anyone near him to the way he insults you. Haechan complains that you’re too much of a pushover, you’re too weak, you’re too annoying, you’re too pudgy, you’re too ugly. Of course Haechan makes it known that he thinks that way to your face too, always stating that your existence is an inconvenience to him, something that can’t be solved unless you were to fully disappear from this world because even if you transferred universities you’d still exist and inconvenience him.

 You don’t remember much, remembering being dragged to a party by a couple of friends, spotting Haechan with his friend. You’re not sure which one of his friends had been flirting with you and handed you a drink that you had drunk. Maybe that’s when you had started feeling strange, head beginning to get dizzy, body burning up, memory blanking. 

You can’t really remember how you ended up in Haechan’s bed, memories and head spinning as you lie and stare at the ceiling trying to ignore Haechan on top of you.

Haechan feels cold, his ice cold hands running across the expanse of your stomach and body, squeezing and groping at your flesh. It would feel nice against your flushed skin if it wasn’t Haechan. But, your heavy limbs and fuzzy head made it hard to fight back against his touches, leaving you pliant in Haechan’s hands. 

“You’re such a slut, going to that party and flirting with Jaemin. Do you not get fucked enough? Is that why you went for my friend?” Haechan says mockingly.

You try to shake your head to no avail, leaving you to only stare at him. 

Haechan lets out a laugh, hand gripping your cheeks and forcing you to nod, “That’s the correct answer. You’re lucky I’m great at doing charity. You know how many people would kill to be in your position?”

Haechan moves to run his tongue against your nipples, tongue laving over your sensitive skin before harshly sucking. Haechan works to mark the skin of your chest with red splotches and marks, teeth sinking into your skin alongside his sucking. He only stops to pull his shirt over his head, hands work quickly to take off his clothing and throw them to a corner of the room. 

It’s not until Haechan’s marks run up your neck that Haechan stops, sitting back and proudly admiring his work. His hands reach for his phone halfway before freezing and withdrawing. You can hear him mumble “not this time.” 

Haechan’s hands grip your legs, uncaring of the yelp you let out when he folds you in half. He presses against the back of your thighs with his arm while he lines himself up with your entrance. Haechan teases your entrance and your clit, covering his head with your slick. Alarm bells ring in your head and you try to tell him to stop, to use protection, to do anything but this but everything comes out unintelligible, garbled and slurred. 

The stretch is painful without proper prep and it feels like you’re being divided into two when Haechan enters you. You’re in hell, helpless, burning up and in pain while it looks as if Haechan is in heaven. His eyes flutter shut while he lets out a loud moan. Haechan’s head dips down as he forces his eyes open to drink in your pained facial expression. 

“If I knew your pussy would be so tight, I would’ve fucked you sooner.” Haechan says through gritted teeth as he begins to thrust into you shallowly. You can feel the drag of him in your walls and your body producing more slick, easing his thrusts. Whatever you had drunk seemed to be wearing off, allowing your fingers to dig into your palm to ground yourself. 

“Look how wet you are, so ready for me. I knew you were a slut, getting off on me.” Haechan says as he increases his pace. You can feel him putting his weight on you, crushing you between him and the bed. You can feel the head of his length bashing against your cervix, his drooling tip crushing it in every thrust. 

“Fuck I’m going to cum, going to breed you, going to knock you up. You’re going to be full of my cum and my kid. You’re going to look so much better round with my kid. You’ll be all mine. Everyone will know you’re mine. You won’t even think of leaving me.” Haechan babbles, shifting his weight completely on you.

It’s not until tears begin dripping down your face that Haechan cums with a shiver and whine, filling you up. Haechan moves your legs out of the way, collapsing onto you and burying his head into your neck. 

It’s not until he rises and flips you on your stomach that you realize he wasn’t just babbling, that you’re in for a long night.

[itsabouttimex2]

I hope this isn't an odd question

But, do you think Wukong or Macaque would act or treat different their "cub" if they genders were swapped or being a female version? This is also for a Yan behavior

I don't know too much about how is the raising of a monkey from the father and mother so I was curious with this since they're both mystical demons

I was thinking about this when I saw some fanarts from the artist @/car_nimbus on Twitter, they made a neat versions of the characters with another gender

Monkey Mama

(Hmm okay let me build a hypothetical OG “Female Monkey King” to work off of here and then I’ll try to translate that into LMK’s SWK. Also, I’ll probably make a second variation of this afterwards with other characters, haha. This got a little long to do both SWK and Mac!)

Sun Wukong as a character is already heavily defined by rebellion and personal choice, so I think that making him a girl only really compounds that layer of his character.

In many older narratives, female characters are often expected to be more obedient or modest than men, and very frequently only exist as prizes or, more rarely, villains. A female Sun Wukong; assuming she plays the same role as her original incarnation, defies the expectations of how “traditional” women should behave, shirking the demure and passive “ideal” and adding another layer of rebellion to her character.

(JTTW is actually pretty great in terms of female representation, with characters ranging from the perpetually good Quanyin, the eventually repentant Princess Iron Fan, and the straight up evil White Bone Spirit. I’m a big fan of how the women aren’t slid into any one “role” throughout the story.)

I think: in story, she’d likely be viewed as a sort of “anomaly”—a woman too strong, too outspoken, and too unwilling to conform to typical feminine ideals. Her defiance and arrogance might be viewed as even more scandalous by the Celestial Realm.

Instead of being made a “stable-keeper”, I think probably she’s sent to whatever Heavenly Scullery exists in that divine realm, and put to work very quickly. She would treat this “job” with indifference or even amusement at first-after all, physical labor or menial tasks don't diminish her self-worth or confidence! She’s had a life of hard work, leading an army of Yaoguai, cultivating Flower Fruit Mountain,

So she’s fine with this… at first. Then it turns out that the food she makes with her fellow low-class workers isn’t distributed amongst the people making it, but plated up nice and pretty for a bunch of “stuffy old gods” who didn’t lift a finger! Bullshit!

So obviously, the prideful Monkey Queen goes on a destructive rampage in regards to the unfair disparity of treatment, then storms back down to Earth to throw a “feel-better” party with her fellow Yaogaui.

(Which isn’t just a party, but a symbolic reclaiming of joy and community, with her monkey tribe representing the freedom she craves and the earthly bonds she prefers over heavenly authority. It's not just an escape, but a statement of independence.)

After an extensive set of repairs, the Court sends down someone to drag her back, because, you know, the local super-powered monkey is back on the loose, and that’s not exactly great for them. This time, they offer her a “better” role- she gets to become an official Peach Maiden, lucky her!

Of course, it’s just another form of entrapment, but within a prettier cage. Even though she's given a cushier position, it's a veneer- she's still being silenced, controlled, and stripped of her freedom. The role played by a Peach Maiden is an inversion of Wukong's essence, as these women are happily serving the role of passive caretakers, nurturing with gentle smiles—a direct contrast to the free-willed, brash nature of the Monkey Queen.

(And while there’s nothing wrong with being demure, passive, and feminine, having people try to force her into that role is where Sun Wukong draws her line.)

Here, she is expected to watch in silence as others revel in the freedom and power denied to her. It's a different kind of prison, one that quietly erodes her spirit. When the Celestial Court tries to reintegrate her as a Peach Maiden, they are once again attempting to place her into a docile, decorative role, one that strips away her power and independence. Those immortal peach orchards, a symbol of immortality and divine favor, becomes a prison for her.

Surrounded by "ideal" women who embody the quiet, submissive role she despises, the Monkey Queen finds herself chafing under the pressure of conformity. Her energy, once boundless and chaotic, is now caged, and the simmering resentment builds.

The buildup to her inevitable rebellion after being made a Peach Maiden, then, becomes a very sympathetic moment because it's not just a rejection of the role forced on her, but a rejection of the very system that tries to diminish who she is at her core. Her rebellion isn’t about anger and shame- it’s about reclaiming her true self after having been suffocated by the expectations of the Celestial Court. Her rampage becomes an assertion of her identity as something that can't be confined by heavenly rules or social mores.

The Court, in its attempt to “contain" her, only fuels her defiance further, leading her once again to rebel.

It was never going to end well. But it ends all the same, and punishment is to be levied to the Queen, just the same as any other rebellious rule-breaker... actually, probably harsher.

There’s “you broke our rules and tried to lead a coup”, then there’s “you did all that, and we also find your very person to be wrong on a fundamental level”, and then she gets the book thrown at her twice over.

But! Then she meets Tang Sanzang, who sees something in her that neither the Celestial Realm nor her own band of Sworn Brothers saw. Not a heretic simian savaging a holy realm. Not a Queen to rally behind for their own gain.

But a lost soul in need of guidance.

And from there the Great Monk works on building Sun Wukong up as a person instead of leading her astray or trying to cut massive chunks of her personality out? And talks to her about the things she cares about? And teaches her about all the things she missed after spending five hundred years under a rock?

And then she meets Zhu Baije, who starts out a little too happy and carefree about having a beautiful woman around, but eventually comes to smash open heads when Wukong is disrespected, because that’s not just a hot woman, that’s his sister?

Or Sha Wujing, who helps her with even the smallest things, from trimming her claws to cutting her wild hair to preparing meals for the monk? And lets her perch on his shoulders and head so the queen can get some skinship in?

Then Ao Lie, who is every bit the “disappointment to the world at large” that she was considered? And they take turns braiding each other’s hair and wiping the mess from the other’s face, and sleeping in the same tent and same bedroom because it’s less effort?

She gets a dad and three little brothers?

She gets a family.

And then loses it and is alone again for several hundred years more.

So if we go with this theoretical “My natural existence has been rejected for being seen as ‘improper’ by a court of stuffy traditional assholes” and then “I dearly love/miss my dead found family” angle, I think she’d be portrayed as a very different sort of character in LMK.

She’s quicker to lash out and defend herself, and much less willing to sit around and let the world pass her by- because that’s what was demanded of her by the Celestial Realm.

Be good. Be quiet. Be demure. Be obedient. Be anything except you.

I don’t think she’d be as willing to “rest on her laurels” as her canon counterpart, given that a “quiet boring life” was what she had fought so very hard to escape in the first place, so instead of isolating herself from the world in the first place, she probably sets up a little “souvenir shop” at the foot of Flower Fruit Mountain, taking a human form to sell little knick-knacks that herald to the journey she undertook with her old friends.

In part, this is how Wukong works to honor them. To spread their legacy. To ensure that they aren’t forgotten, left as a footnote in the annals of history. To remember them.

In part, it’s how she justifies all the mistakes she’s made and the suffering she’s been through. Settling in to a pointlessly relaxed life is exactly what she fought against, after all. She’s heavily fallen into the “sunk-cost fallacy”, where giving up and settling in, to her, means “losing”. It means “everything I went through was all for nothing”. So she keeps at this little store instead of just retiring and isolating herself from the world, even though she’d be happier to ditch it and lounge about.

So when MK and his eccentric bunch of friends comes around with their boundless energy and mischief, she immediately goes, “Oh, okay! This is what I wanted!”

(It’s not. All she’s ever wanted is her friends back. How could there be anything else?)

The Monkie Kids are vibrant, eccentric, and full of qualities that immediately resonate with Wukong. They remind her of the energy, camaraderie, and sense of adventure that she once shared with her old companions. She sees MK's arrival not just as a chance to teach someone a few of her old tricks, but as an echo of her own life—a life she hasn't been able to truly let go of.

So she starts projecting- on the surface, MK is very much like her. He's spirited, good-natured, and curious- and reckless. Just like she was. Wukong latches onto this quickly, sort of using the kid as a proxy for herself. After all, if she can't go back to her old life, why not embrace a new one that feels close enough? In some ways, this marks her refusal to accept the passage of time, a desperate clinging to the hope that, through MK, she can rekindle the connections she once cherished.

However, underneath that initial enthusiasm is the repressed understanding that MK, despite his similarities to her younger self, cannot truly replace what she lost. The friends she fought beside, the battles they waged together, and the lessons they learned are unique, irreplaceable moments in her life. No matter how much MK’s gang reminds her of the past, he and his friends a stand-in for the companions she still longs for. But her deep desire to reconnect with her old friends clouds her ability to see MK for who he truly is: his own person, on his own journey.

It takes her a while to get to that point, though. So she’s more doting and affectionate, in a way that somewhat stifles her student’s training because she wants to be both her old carefree self and also a good mentor, and the two just get jumbled.

Sidenote: I think with the difference in actions and behavior, MK would be more open to viewing Fem!Wukong as a parental figure than the OG, especially since he doesn’t really have someone to fulfill that “mom” role.

For their dynamic, I think something like this would be the outcome:

———————————————————————-

The afternoon sun hangs low in the sky, painting the landscape in hues of varied orange and blue. With a tired hand, MK wipes the sweat from his brow.

He’s perched on one of the rocky spires dotting Flower Fruit Mountain, gazing at the view with a small smile of accomplishment. Training had been intense lately… if only because he had been doubling down on the time he spent practicing, without giving as much care to rest or aftercare.

After all, even though his powers were blooming steadily… his enemies also were growing in power and quantity, leading to the ever-creeping edge of fear that anything less than a constant one-hundred percent just wouldn’t be “enough”.

And right as he reaches back to grab the golden staff he has inherited from the Monkey Queen-

“MK! I told you to take a break, not run off to do more training!”

Her voice, uncharacteristically sharp, cuts through the formerly tranquil air, causing MK to jump. He turns just in time to see Sun Wukong strolling toward him, her hands on her hips and a look of mock annoyance on her face.

MK grinned sheepishly, shifting his grass-stained boots against the dirt. “I was just, you know… checking out the view.”

She raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement as her eyes narrowed in annoyance. This kid... “Uh-huh. Checking out the view or sneaking in some practice when I wasn’t looking?”

Caught fast in his lie, MK rubbed the back of his neck, face scrunching up in embarrassment. “Maybe a little of both?”

In spite of herself, Sun Wukong quietly laughs, the sound echoing like a chiming bell through the mountain. Her long, golden hair flowed behind her in the wind, each strand catching the light like molten fire. Despite her legendary status- the rebellious warrior who’d fought the heavens and nearly won!- there was a warmth to her that MK had come to cherish.

“All work and no play, MK,” she said, sitting beside him on the rock and ruffling his hair with a fondness that always made him feel like a little kid again. “You’ll burn out before you get anywhere.”

He looked at her, eyes shining with admiration. “But you never stop training. You’ve been at this for centuries! I just…”

A pause, as his chest turns over, unsettled by the notion of opening up. But… it’s the Monkey Queen. So it.. should be okay, right?

“I want to make you proud.”

Sun Wukong’s expression softens, and she wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling the boy close in a tight embrace. “You already make me proud, kid. You don’t have to prove anything.”

MK leaned into the touch, feeling a wave of comfort wash over him. Even from the start she’d been like this with him- protective, nurturing… and maybe a bit overbearing at times. But he didn’t mind. It made him feel safe, like no matter what challenges lay ahead, he wasn’t alone.

MK chuckled, turning his face up to meet his idol’s eyes.” I’ll keep up,” he triumphantly declares, pumping a fist.” I promise.”

“Good.” Wukong shifted, her clawed hand lightly missing his spiked locks. “Now, how about we head back to the shop and grab something to eat? You’ve earned it.”

MK’s stomach growled at the mention of food, and he nodded so eagerly that she wondered if his head wouldn’t ache from the motion. “You know, I won’t say no to a good meal.”

The Monkey Queen stood up, dusting off her mentee’s clothes before offering him a hand. “Of course you won’t. C’mon, my treat.”

———————————————————————-

Now, to answer your question about how she acts in regards to her own cub… in general I think she’s much more doting than the OG, willing to express herself through constant displays of physical affection, in ways that are far more varied.

Constant forehead smooching, cuddles, grooming sessions, all of it! Mama Wukong never wants to let go of her baby! Sit down and let her paint your nails! Let her comb and braid your hair! Let her make you a nice lunch (loaded with mystical drugs to keep you nice and sleepy for extra cuddles), or at least a filling snack! Let her pepper your face with kisses as she spins you in her powerful arms!

Lots and lots of indulgent fluffy days of binging unhealthy foods and watching cozy reruns of old shows, your head in her lap as she hums and does up your hair with her lazy hands.

Lots of reminiscing about old suitors as she considers the quietest and quickest ways to kill anyone who makes the futile attempt to pursue you in the same way.

Despite her obsessive behavior, Wukong struggles with conflicting feelings about wanting her child to be strong and independent, just like her! She pushes you to train hard and become powerful, but when you inevitably seek their own freedom or autonomy, she’d experience a mix of pride and heartbreak, pushing her deeper into possessive tendencies.

If you ever tried to leave or even just start to break away, Wukong’s worst traits would bubble up like hellfire. Just as she fought against an entire realm’s authority, she would absolutely wage a war to keep her child close, all while justifying her actions as love.

The Monkey Queen is also more willing to take routes outside of brute force if it means securing extra protection for Y/N. If Macaque or maybe Azure (or someone else like Erlang Shen) wants to try and play “suitor”, well, she’s not too interested… until the thought arises that having him around makes you extra safe! And then she’s willing to think on it.

(That’s assuming that you aren’t one of their biological kids to begin with, in which case there might be a sort of “yandere triangle”. Azure/Macaque/Erlang Shen doing his damndest to reclaim his wife, before he learns that she’s had a child while he was gone... or maybe Pigsy and Tang decided that MK needs his mentor in a more ‘accessible’ position, and plot to drag her to Megapolis…)

Lots of potential monkey mama shenanigans, basically!

[crybaby-bkg]

Choso has always been kind to you, his neighbor. always fed your pets when you were gone for long periods of time, watered your plants, left you home cooked meals he and Yuuji made together when you worked a double.

it’s why you don’t find it odd when he comes over one night with a plate of chocolate chip cookies. he tells you that Yuuji is gone over a friends house for the night, that he bailed on him the moment the cookies were done baking, that he didn’t want them to go to waste.

you don’t comment on how you passed Yuuji in the hallway after returning home two hours ago. nor how the cookies are still hot, as if just being brought freshly from the oven to your countertop. don’t find it suspicious really; you just think that maybe Choso’s lonely, or a bad flirt, and wanted an excuse to hang out with you.

which is partially true. and partially untrue, because he was hoping that the aphrodisiac chocolate that he put in the cookies would encourage you to want to do more than hang out. and it works, with no surprises from him; he did dump the entirety of the chocolate bag into the mix, even though the direction only called for consumers to eat just a small piece to feel something. and you had three cookies.

it hits you faster than he expected. you’re hot suddenly, pawing at the collar of your shirt as you fan yourself. your nipples harden against the fabric, and you can’t hide the tightness of them from Choso’s wandering gaze. your thighs are slippery, your hole clenching and unclenching with every minute that passes, makes your eyes teary.

“You need me to help you?” Choso asks, his voice low, his eyes pleading to take the ache away from you, his hand squeezing your knee in his cold, hard grip. and that’s all you want; relief, blissful, heavenly, heart stopping relief. and he gives you just that.

(he leaves the rest of the cookies with you, and over the course of the next three days, you jump his bones more often than you can count. it doesn’t help that the cookies are divine, and his dick makes you see stars behind your lids.)

[justadeadreaper]

okay so I'm curious- puptrapping you say? That you'd need another post to go into? I'd like to encourage this please

Puptrapping?

You want to hear about puptrapping, you say?

Anon, your wish is my command.

Just so you know, this is like you encouraging a crack addict by finding them a new dealer. I am not joking because this is my obsession at this point, but I do encourage you to send in more asks about Omega!Makarov or ideas you want me to write about because I will. I never originally thought of puptrapping; instead, it was my dear friend @frogchiro who said that she thought he would based on a comment I made about him tying you down to make sure you cum in him. Also, do thank @frogchiro because she helped me form these ideas in our late-night rants, and she is my biggest encourager.

Now that I have written this, I am tempted to write about Omega!Makarov with pups or a fic based on this idea if anyone wants it.

Obvious warnings for puptrapping (omegaverse version of babytrapping) and all the shit that goes with it, Omega!Makarov spiking your drink with an omegaverse version of Viagra (that sounds so fucking weird), but also a big misunderstanding between Omega!Makarov and reader.

This whole idea is based on it being a misunderstanding. Omega!Makarov is a feared man; no one even knows he is an omega; you were only allowed that grace of knowledge due to being his alpha -specifically chosen for being the most desired for your size and strength-. Knowing how secretive he was about his second gender, you presumed that he would never want pups as it would reveal his identity to the world, and he could not have that, could he? Hell, you did not even think he loved you; he only used you to satisfy his natural instincts that come with being an omega so that he would not be on a constant edge from having his subconscious desires not be fulfilled. You enforced the rule around using some form of protection as you did not want to force or pressure him into having pups that he would never want in a million years.

But oh, you poor, dumb alpha. How wrong could you be?

Omega!Makarov is infatuated with you. As soon as he saw you, he knew that you had to be his; no one else would be able to satisfy him after he saw you. Yes, he may be a cruel, heartless man but he loves you in his own special way and let me tell you he loves you with all his heart! He genuinely does! Now, being that he loves you so much, it is only natural that he wants your pups; it is only made worse by him being an omega and having the natural instincts to breed and have pups that poor omegas like him have. He knew he wanted pups from a young age, even if he knew that he did not love like a normal person does. Another part of him wanting to have pups is his own relationship with his father. A narcissistic, bullheaded alpha that abused Makarov and his poor brother for being omegas, Makarov had to watch as his poor mother was abused for not giving that asshole the alpha sons he desperately wanted. His father was never nice to him; he was a horrid father who chickened out at the last minute instead of suffering the consequences of his actions. Makarov does not want to be like that; he instead wants to be the best father he can be and have as many pups as he can to shove it to the old man who damaged him so much, to embrace the one thing his father abused him for and always forced him to hide.

So, for you to say that you need to use birth control? That is the biggest insult to him! Do you not love him? Do you not think he is a good enough omega to have your pups? Are you just using him to get yourself off? Are you planning on just dropping him off one day? Why do you not feel like him? He wants your pups so badly, why do you not want to give them to him?

He damn near hissed at you for suggesting such a thing, but he decided to hold his tongue as he knows he will get his way, he always has.

Now it just. depends on what type of birth control you force him to use for what he does to still be able to have your pups.

Condoms? Expect every single one to have multiple puncture holes from the set of pins that used to belong to his mother. Small enough for you not to notice but just big enough to allow enough cum to come through to give him a nice litter of pups. But that is only if you are stupid enough to allow him to be the only one to supply the condoms or allow him to be around the box by himself for longer than two minutes. If you buy them and never let him near them, you can be sure that those things will rip because, for some reason, your knot was a lot bigger than it normally is causing the condom to rip.

Birth control? He is lying about being on it. The prescription he showed you was a fake he forced a poor pharmacist to make as the pills inside that he showed you were nothing more than sugar pills mixed with the omegaverse version of Viagra known as an Amplifa that helps people knot while also increasing their fertility that he forced the drug dealers he hires to make. Each day, he will take them in front of you, knowing that they do not work. But if you are the one to supply the pills, then he is finding any pill or herb known to man to counteract it so that the birth control fails.

The Amplifa he uses to spike your drink and his own have a few side effects. I imagine omegas to have a reverse knot to match an alpha’s knot, which means they are doubly bonded. How it works is by inflating the sides of the passage like how, for an alpha, the base inflates to lock inside; it is to make sure that the alpha is being milked of all their cum and that the omega is too tight for the alpha to pull out. Since both he and you have been spiked with it, it causes your knot to inflate beyond the point of it being pulled out while he is too tight that it hurts to try and pull out. It also makes the knots last for hours upon hours instead of the normal half an hour to an hour, as it makes you cum so much. Not to mention it makes you incredibly more horny so you could fuck for longer.

With everything prepared, he has sex with you.

Once you are close to cumming he leg locks you making sure you can not push him off as you cum. Your knot inflating inside him as he milks you dry, all while he is still moving his hips in a specific motion to cause more friction that stimulates you and makes you hard yet again. Wiggling his hips and whining as you have yet another orgasm while the two of you are stuck together as his reverse knot will just not let go. Watching as his tummy begins to form a bump already as it grows from how much cum you have stuffed inside of it with every orgasm. He puts on the “I’m innocent, I swear!” act; he uses all the manipulation tactics he knows, the fake tears, the lies, the everything. He is just a simple omega who was trying to enjoy sex with his alpha; he has no idea what is going on. Whining over how worried he is since with this much cum he is most definitely already pregnant, even if you were being safe. All of this while he continues to move his hips as you cum once more.

And as soon as you are asleep from exhaustion and overstimulation he is gently caressing his stomach as he purrs. He can already imagine the litter of pups he will be having in a few months and how much of a happy family you all will be...

[tallulah477]

Playing Dirty

Survive the Night Day 3: Drugged

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Dark!Reader, Toxic!Reader, Jealous!Reader, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Alien Genitalia, Drugging, P in V, Slight Thigh Riding, Oral (male receiving), Creampie, Knotting, Size Difference, Sex while one person is under the influence of drugs, Kuru/Queue Play, Belly Bulge, Obsessive/Possessive Behavior, Manipulation/Gaslighting, Toxic Relationship, Brief Body Shaming (Reader body shames another female out of jealously - not to her face, but in her thoughts), Name Calling (significant use of the word "bitch"), Forced Cheating (not on Reader - Neteyam is kinda dating someone else although you can argue they aren’t together yet), Reader is a straight up bitch and completely unhinged ngl, She is horrible

Word Count: 10.3K

A/N: For more about how I picture alien genitalia, see here.

Summary: Neteyam is supposed to be yours. Your mate. So who the hell does he think he is running around with someone else? You need to do something. In this game, you'll be the victor - not her. Even if that means you have to play a little dirty.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Kuru - Neural Queue

Kaltxì - Hello

Tanhì - Star, bioluminescent freckle

Swoasey - Kava bowl (constructed from seed pods, used for drinking intoxicating beverages), handsized

Teylu - Beetle Larva, food and source of protein for the Na'vi

Tsahìk - Spiritual Leader

He’s starting to piss you off.

Nope. Wrong. Too late. You’re already pissed. Beyond pissed. 

Who the hell does he think he is? Running around with another woman like that right in front of you. What does he even see in her anyway?

Iäle. What a stupid name.

She’s not even pretty. And her tits are way too small - nonexistent actually. Neteyam wants someone with a little more to give. Like yours, for example. Although, it’s not very hard to have more than her. You may be smaller, the comparison of a human to a Na’vi structure is very stark, but you’ve got a lot to compensate for that. Plenty of bounce and soft curves for him to play with and enjoy. You’ve seen him appreciating the view before, when your v-neck t-shirts or tank tops ‘accidentally’ ride a little too low to be considered modest and his pretty golden eyes follow the movement, tracing the curve of your breasts and lingering on the hardened peaks of your nipples where they poke through your top on the days you forget to wear a bra.

You’ve been forgetting a lot more recently. Wow. Crazy. 

And since you’re smaller, your pussy is clearly going to be tighter too. You think about it all the time, taking Neteyam’s thick cock between your slick walls, feeling him spear you open and filling you up so much you hope you feel him in your throat. He needs someone who’s going to treat him right, squeezing around his length and working him up like it’s your sole purpose in life to be his personal living fleshlight. Iäle can’t give him that. She has ‘selfish lover’ written all over her. She’d probably just chase her own release, make him get off just to say she did and then that’s it. You, on the other hand… you would milk him dry - pulling orgasm after orgasm from his gorgeous muscular body like he deserves until he’s a twitching and overstimulated mess. 

You want to see it so bad - the way his spent cock would shrink and retract back into its sheath in protection from your oh-so-giving hands and mouth and pussy. You want to see the goofy and satisfied smirk on his face as he shivers from the aftershocks, just like the one he gives you when you race through the forest and he pretends like you can keep up with him only to completely demolish you in the final stretch. 

Only this one would be better, with his amber eyes so dazed and hazy and not able to focus on anything at all. You’d fuck him so good you think there might even be drool trailing down his cheek from the corner of his mouth, visual proof of a job well done. 

The point is you have more than her. Would be a million times better than her. Duh. 

You see it clear as day every time you close your eyes. You and him taking the next step and moving from just best friends forever to mates - a bond stronger than forever, an eternity bonded together in an unbreakable connection that can never be severed. You’d be his and he’d be yours. Permanently. You know Eywa would agree with you. You may not have your own kuru, but she would find a way to unite you both. 

And if she won’t. You will. 

So now here’s the riddle: If you see what the future will be every time you close your eyes, then why the fuck is it that when you open them right now… he’s with her. 

Smiling at her, holding her hand, their tails flicking behind them and occasionally brushing against each other as they walk towards you. 

Bitterly, you close your eyes and open them again. Nope, still there. You do it again. Still here and closer. You do it again and again, rapid frustrated blinks make your eyelashes flutter as you hope that the next one will show just him. That she will disappear and cease to exist, stop even breathing the same air as him, but she never does. The quick blinks just serve to tire your eyes and make the couple flicker in and out of sight, getting closer and closer to you with each blink. 

“Kaltxì, tanhì.” Neteyam says with a grin. “What’s wrong with you? Something in your eye?”

Iäle smiles at you too, sending you a small wave with the hand not currently on trial and being threatened to be cut off for touching what’s rightfully yours. “Kaltxì, y/n,”

You force a bright smile on your face as you look up at them. “Hi, you two! No, yeah. Just something in my eye, I guess. It’s out now though,” You eye them suspiciously, gaze unable to help but fall to where their hands are still joined together. “Where are you off to?”

“We were going to head to the river,” Iäle responds, and you just barely hold off a wince from how her voice grates on your ears. How can Neteyam stand to hear her speak without wanting to pluck out his own eardrums? “There’s a spot there that’s really nice that has a view of the whole length of the water.” You let out a small hum of acknowledgement instead of rolling your eyes the way you want to. “But Mo’at has called for me. She was going to prepare the paints for tonight’s celebration, but some of the little ones have become ill and she needs to tend to them, so the task falls to me, I guess.”

“Aw, too bad,”

Iäle shrugs, small smile still present on her lips. “It’s alright. I don’t mind. Anything I can do to help is an honor,”

Ugh, spare me. 

“Okay, well, I’ll be heading over there now,” She says, finally. To your relief she lets go of Neteyam’s hand, but your perceptive gaze doesn’t miss the way she squeezes it as she does. Nor do you miss the way Neteyam grins at her in response. “I’ll see you both tonight at the celebration!”

“Byeee,” You respond. Neteyam doesn’t look at you in confusion or pinch his lips together at your tone, so you suppose you were successful at making it sound friendly. 

Your eyes follow Iäle as she heads back towards the center of the village, disappearing behind the group of training warriors on her way to the healer’s tent. As soon as she’s out of sight, Neteyam turns to you and crosses his arms across his chest. Your eyes zero in on the corded muscle of his arms, pulling taut as they flex with his movement, but your ogling opportunity is cut short when you spot the knowing look on his face as he stares down at you. 

“What?”

“Go on,” He prompts. “Say what you’re going to say.”

“How do you know I was going to say anything?” You reply, sass heavy in your voice. Neteyam just raises a hairless brow in response. “You two seem close.”

“There it is,”

“I’m just stating a fact,”

Neteyam sighs. “I like her. That’s what happens when you like someone,”

“Is that right? Then maybe you should hold my hand more often,” You grumble, turning on your heel to walk back towards the lab. He’s quick to follow you just like you knew he would. 

“I hold your hand all the time,”

“Is that right?” You repeat. 

“Y/n,”

You stop suddenly and turn to look back at him. He towers over you like this, so close that if you just took a step closer you would be face to face with the little (yeah fucking right) funzone hidden safely underneath his loincloth. You don’t, instead choosing to crane your neck back to look up at his face, your own brows furrowed as you snap your fingers together twice and point down towards the ground. 

“Really?” He asks, exasperated. Your only response is another rapid round of snaps and an aggressive point downwards. 

Watching Neteyam crouch down in front of you at your beck and call makes heat spark in your core. He’s such a good boy - would be such a good, good boy for you if he could just get his head out of his ass. In the crouch he’s closer to your height, still taller but not so much so that you're craning your neck to see his face, and he holds your gaze as you glower at him. 

“Serious time now,” You say. “Eyes on me.”

“They already are,” He shoots back, and grins in satisfaction at your glare. “Fine. Yes, ma’am,”

And Eywa, it’s like he’s trying to get you to cream your pants saying it like that. 

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again–hey!” You shout, watching as his amber eyes roll upwards at your words. “I. Do. Not. Like. Her. I don’t trust her.”

“So you say, but I still don’t know why–”

“I have my suspicions, Teyam. I don’t trust her intentions with you.” Like intending to take you away from me when you’re MINE. “She’s no good.”

“Why is she no good?”

Cause I said so. “Don’t you trust me?”

Neteyam sighs again, eyes softening as he looks down at your serious face. “Of course I trust you, tanhì,”

“Then trust me now,” You say, voice soft with sympathy as your hand reaches out to caress his arm. His big and muscle packed toned arm. “She’s going to do something to hurt you.”

You want to grind your teeth into dust at the way Neteyam clearly wants to argue with you, but the corner of his mouth just lifts into a pacifying smile. “I know you’re looking out for me. I promise I’ll be careful,”

Liar. 

“You’re such a good friend,”

Fucking ouch. 

Your eye twitches at the words, a grimacing smile pulling at your own lips. “The best friend! Of course,”

“Hm,”

He stands up from his crouch and you turn to resume your walk back towards the lab. Neteyam is a gentleman through and through, so even though he needs to go home and prepare for tonight’s festivities, he walks you home to make sure you're safe. He would do it for anyone - his daddy raised him right like that. But it makes you feel all warm and gooey inside to think that he would only do it for you. You’re his best friend, his future mate, and it’s his job to keep you safe from anything and everything that might try to hurt you. He loves you. You smile smugly at the thought. Neteyam, the mighty warrior - your own personal protector. 

It’s mighty dangerous in the Pandoran forest for a human. Anything could happen. You could break your mask and die of suffocation in a matter of minutes. A thanator could lunge from the dense treeline and gobble you up like you were no more than a midday snack. You could trip and twist your ankle, maybe even sprain it, and Neteyam would have to pick you up in his strong arms that could toss you around like a ragdoll if he wanted to and carry you all the way back to the lab, cradled against him for safety.

Hm. 

You yelp as you quickly catch the toe of your sneaker on the slightly uneven ground on your next step, purposefully throwing yourself onto the ground with a pained gasp as you clutch at your ankle.

“Shit!” Neteyam curses, crouching down and looking at you with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Ow,” You whine, hands still wrapped protectively over your ‘injured’ ankle. “Teyam, it hurts!”

He studies your ankle carefully, his hand reaching out to brush gently across the soft skin to check for tenderness or swelling.

“OW!” You squeal, tears welling up in your eyes at the imaginary pain. 

“Okay, okay,” Neteyam relents, pulling back his hand so he doesn’t accidentally hurt you further. “It doesn’t look broken, but we should probably still get it looked at.”

“No,” You say, voice wobbling as your lower lip trembles. “No, I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.”

“Tanhì, it’s their job. We need to make sure its not–”

“No,” You interrupt. No way. The nurse would take one look at your ankle and bitch you out for wasting her time. No thank you. “It’s fine. I promise. Just twisted and hurts right now. But…”

Neteyam looks unsure. “But what?”

You can’t help how your eyelashes flutter at him. “Can you carry me? I don’t think I can walk right now,”

“Of course, tanhì,”

He picks you up bridal style, which is fitting considering you’ll be his bride one day, and effortlessly cradles you against his chest. You tilt your head to the side, leaning your head against his shoulder as you look up at him with a small smile and a sweet ‘Thank you, Teyam,’ on your lips. His chest is hard and warm against your ear as it presses against his skin, and you wish that you didn’t have to wear this stupid mask to survive outside so you could press your entire face into the solid wall of muscle and inhale his scent. 

The walk back to the lab nearly puts you to sleep with how comfortable you are against him. His steps are careful and smooth, barely jostling you at all and making it feel more like a gentle rocking as it soothes you into a peaceful state. You haven’t felt this calm in a long time. Neteyam has been stressing you out - courting that bitch and parading her around right in front of you. You don’t know why he’s trying to make you jealous, but it’s making you more angry than anything else. This is making up for it though. You think you could forgive his little games and lapse in judgment if he just carries you around pressed against his body a little bit each day. 

He’d have to do other things too, of course. But this would be a start. 

He carries you through the airlock, taking your mask from you and placing it with the others along the attached shelf before grabbing a carbon mask for himself all without letting you touch the ground. He moves with a flawless confidence as he loops the mask around his neck, feet barely pausing in their journey as he takes you all the way up to your room. It’s like something out of your dreams when he lays you on your bed, and for a couple blissful seconds you have the soft mattress at your back and Neteyam’s large hulking figure overtop you just like it’s always meant to be. You wish that he would kneel down on it too, hold himself over you as he sweeps his pretty golden eyes along your sprawled out frame. You’d stretch out even more, putting the entire length of your body on display for him, maybe even let out a small enticing moan just to give him a little show - a little taste at what was to come.

But he’s off the bed and kneeling at your side all too soon, fingers reaching out again to brush against your ankle in concern. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks. “I can still get Jane to come look at it.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine. Just twinged it a bit, that’s all. Jane would just get pissed we wasted her time,”

“If you’re sure,”

“I am,” You insist. “Thank you though, Teyam. For carrying me. You’re really strong.”

Neteyam hums, a crooked smile pulling at his lips. “Yeah, I guess I am,”

He stands up, taking a breath from his mask, and you can tell he’s gearing up to leave. The selfish part of you doesn’t want him to. He should be around you all the time. The thought of leaving your side shouldn’t even pop into his head. And if he has to, if he really has no other choice, you should see pain burning in his amber eyes - the feeling of sorrow so overwhelming that he feels like his heart is being ripped out of his chest just to have to leave you for a moment to go on a hunt or use the bathroom.

Annoyance sparks when you don’t see that pain evident in his face. He looks fine. He’s getting ready to leave you, while you’re hurt, and he’s fine. 

“You’re coming to the celebration tonight, right?” He asks when he pulls the mask away, and you plant another sickly sweet smile on your face in response.

“Yeah! I’m gonna be your plus one, of course,”

“Yeah, okay,” Neteyam chuckles. “I’m going to head back. I have some things I have to do before tonight, but I’ll be back to come get you in case you’re still having ankle pain.”

“Sounds good! Thank you, mighty warrior,”

He smirks at the nickname, but doesn’t reply. And then he’s walking out of your room, beautiful expanse of back curving as he ducks under the doorframe, tail flicking out lazily behind him, and wow…

You hate to watch him go, but love to watch him leave. 

The more you think about it, the more you determine that no - you’re not going to stand for this nonsense anymore. 

This little game has been going on for far too long, and it’s about time that this victor claims her prize. That doesn’t mean you have to play by the rules though.

Besides, what fun is a game without playing a little dirty?

The people in the lab are more than helpful without even realizing it. You listen, enraptured, as they tell you about a new plant discovered just off the side of the Hallelujah Mountains. It’s a rare find, and they tell you that the effects when ingested are shockingly similar to some other drugs found on Earth. 

Despite the similarities to some not-so-nice Earth drugs, the scientists in the lab are excited about it. 

“Mo’at says it might be useful for the children that have been sick recently. They’ll be groggy and probably not remember anything, but it will force their bodies to relax and recover instead of them wasting energy being uncomfortable or in pain,” One of them tells you, opening the small jar of powered plant. “It’s potent as a powder so it only takes a small amount to be effective.”

Frankly you don’t know why they’re telling you all this. You don’t have anything to do with the science side of anything here, but you listen with rapt attention as they unknowingly tell you the answer to all your problems. You can practically see the little invisible label on the side of the jar now:

Mating Powder for the Hardheaded Na’vi

Side effects may include dizziness, confusion, mental fog, memory loss, or unconsciousness. 

Warning: For best effects, keep bitches named Iäle away from the consumer so that the provider may have the night of her life that she deserves. 

“Oh, how intriguing,” You tell them. “Very interesting indeed.”

Yeah. Sounds pretty damn perfect. 

You wait until everyone goes to dinner before sneaking back into the lab. They said the powder is potent, just a little bit needed to have the effect on the Na’vi children, so you think that amount plus a little extra should do the job for your stubborn Na’vi male. Slipping some into a small plastic baggie you steal from one of the tables is easy enough, and you're in and out of the lab with no one the wiser to the small little pouch of wish granting power stashed safely in your pocket. 

By the time Neteyam arrives back at the lab, the baggie is already hidden away out of sight, tucked between your breast and the cup of your bra. You don’t want to wear one, it would be so much better to tease Neteyam with the sight of your unbound tits through the thin material of your pretty party dress. But alas, you’ve also chosen to forego panties and you need a place to keep the baggie. So bra it is. 

You’ve made sure it’s at least a sexy lacy one though. You’re gonna get fucked in it tonight, you’re sure of it. 

“What do you think?” You ask him, twirling in your spot and posing to give him a little show of the outfit. “You like?”

Neteyam nods. “Yes, you look beautiful, tanhì. You always do,”

“Do you think I look sexy?”

The slight flush visible on Neteyam’s cheeks is confirmation enough despite his silence. 

“Mate worthy, one might say?” You continue, and this time his hairless brows shoot up. 

“Mate? Are you searching for a mate?”

You hear it in his voice. The jealousy. It’s very subtle, barely even noticeable - most people wouldn't have even caught onto it. But you’re smart, you’re brain in tune with all things Neteyam and Neteyam-like, so all you need is the smallest hint and you can tell it’s there. You just barely hold off a smirk, instead choosing to stare at him with wide eyes. “Jealous?” 

“No, I just didn’t know you were interested in finding one. Is it someone I know?”

“Maybe,”

Neteyam lets out a harsh rush of air that you think could be a laugh. “You’re not going to tell me?”

Eywa, you made this man so… beautiful. 

“Nope,” You smirk, coyly. “Guess you’re just gonna have to wait and find out.”

The walk back to the village is a slow one. You need to be gentle on your ankle, it’s still pretty tender after your fall earlier after all. Plus the longer alone time with Neteyam is an added benefit. You’re going to have to see her at this celebration, so you’re going to need a little bit of extra incentive to get through it. 

By the time you make it to the village’s center, The People are dancing. A flurry of bodies flowing and twisting to the steady beat of the song take up most of the site. The fire sparks at the center of it all, bright and sparkling as it shoots out crackles that arch over top the heads of the dancing Na’vi. There’s people crouched or sitting along the outer ring of the celebration, indulging in food and drink rather than dance and you nudge Neteyam’s thigh, smiling as you point to a small opening of the circle just perfect for the two of you to claim as your own. 

This is how it’s supposed to be - just you and Neteyam enjoying the pleasures Pandora has to offer, side by side like a true mated pair. 

But the moment you sit down on the seating log, your irritation floods your content peace of mind. She’s here. 

She’s got such an attitude about her, pushing her way through the barely there space of the dancing clan and the resting members in the outer circle. What makes her think she’s good enough to make that space for herself? Just go around like a normal person. 

When Iäle makes it in front of you, you notice she only has one swoasey in each hand. 

“Kaltxì,” She smiles, handing one of the cups to Neteyam. She keeps the other one in her hand though, curling her now free hand around the rounded shape to cradle it. “Y/n, I thought to bring you one but I wasn’t sure how you would handle the stronger alcohol as a human, but you can have this one if you want.”

This fucking bitch. How disrespectful. 

“Oh,” You say, and if you add a little more disappointment and sadness into your voice than you actually feel, that’s your business. “That’s okay. I’ll just go get my own.”

“I’ll go get you one, tanhì,”

“No,” You insist. “It’s okay. I’ll be back in just a minute.” 

You ignore Neteyam’s responding frown (and Iäle completely) as you make your way around the outside of the edges of the gathering. Your heart is pounding in your chest, anger boiling there like a pool of molten lava even as you try to keep your features neutral and smile at the Na’vi you pass. You’ve had enough - enough of this. You’re not going to let her embarrass you anymore. 

Wasn’t sure how you would handle the stronger alcohol - fuck off. 

The drink that finds its way into your hand is just as big as the ones Neteyam and Iäle are holding. It’s too much alcohol for you, that’s true, but fuck her for saying it out loud like your size is an insult. You take a sip from the cup, face twisting in disgust as a harsh shiver rocks your body at the taste. Gross, but much needed. 

Your eyes flicker around, searching for wandering eyes as you reach your fingers into your bra. The small baggie is still there and the opening pulls apart easily with a quick swipe of your thumb and pointer finger. Finding no prying eyes, you dump the contents into the cup. The powder dissolves into the drink almost as soon as it touches the liquid, and by the time you’ve shoved the empty baggie back into its hidey spot and swirled the cup a little in your palm, all remaining evidence of what you’ve just done have disappeared completely. 

When you return to the seating log you claimed, Neteyam and Iäle are still there too, and it seems they’ve found some food while you were gone. They’ve switched seats too - Neteyam taking up crouching facing the seats while Iäle has taken the space he was in when you left, leaving you to sit next to the absolute eye-roll of a Na’vi on the log. 

“Here, tanhì,” Neteyam says, handing you a small leaf holding some cooked teylu. You thank him with a pretty smile, pleased with the small declarations of loyalty he has shown for you despite his games. If he’s going to try to make you jealous, at least he’s man enough to still take care of you while he plays around. 

“Y/n,” Iäle says as she bites off a piece of her own teylu. “I hope I didn’t offend you earlier by not getting you a drink. That wasn’t my intention. I just thought—”

“No, it’s okay,” The forced brightness in your voice makes you want to throw up. “Of course it’s okay. No harm done.”

And you wish you could smack her responding smile off her face. 

Iäle’s voice grates on your nerves as she speaks, telling you both about her afternoon of painstakingly mixing together the paints for the newly passed warriors to wear. You pretend to sip at your drink throughout dinner, listening with rapt attention when Neteyam talks about how the day’s training session went and then with barely concealed boredom when Iäle mentions the sickness plaguing a few of the kids. 

“Mo’at thinks they should be well enough in a few days. Especially with the new medicine we are trying out to help keep them calm and rested as they recover.”

“That’s good,” Neteyam says and you quickly nod in ecstatic agreement when his eyes flick over to you.   

He’s done his first drink, the swoasey empty on the ground beside him, so you feign one last sip of your own before shoving it in his direction. 

“Teyam, you wanna finish it for me? Guess it was a little too much for me to handle after all,”

“Oh, okay,” Netayam says, taking the cup from your outstretched hand. “Thanks, tanhì.”

You watch in barely contained satisfaction as he takes a few large gulps of the drugged drink. You wonder how long it will take for it to start affecting him. It can’t be long, maybe just enough time to make up some excuse to leave and then make it back to the lab before it hits. And you can’t be around people when it happens. Especially not her. 

It’s just another confirmation that Eywa wants you and Neteyam to be together when another of Mo’at’s healers-in-training runs up and taps Iäle’s shoulder. Mo’at is busy with the celebration - the Tsahìk is needed to give her speech and blessing for the new warriors - but a few of the little ones are fretful and need an experienced healer’s attention. There are stars in your eyes as you watch Iäle solemnly get up from her seat and wave goodbye to you and Neteyam. You can tell she doesn’t want to leave, wants to stick around and possibly try to dance with your man, but luck happens to be on your side and now you have him all to yourself. 

You’re almost sad you can’t stay and enjoy the celebration as a couple. But there’s no rush. After today, he’ll be yours forever and every celebration from now on will be spent with you in his arms as his girl. 

Neteyam gulps down the rest of the alcohol as he shoves the last bite of teylu in his mouth, and you decide that that’s your sign to move this night along. 

“Teyam,” You whine, eyes wide as you reach down to gently touch your ‘injured’ ankle. “My ankle is starting to hurt again.”

Neteyam’s hairless brows furrow in worry, eyes shooting down to your ankle for just a second before meeting your own again. “You should really see Jane so she can make sure it’s nothing serious,”

“It’s fine,” You say. “Just too much walking on it too quickly I guess. Can you carry me home?”

Instead of answering, Neteyam licks his fingers clean and moves the two empty cups against the log so they’re out of people’s way before scooting around so that his back is to you. You happily wrap yourself around him, arms locked around his neck while his big hands catch your thighs as you jump to wrap your legs around his torso. 

You dig your face into his back as he walks, Neteyam hissing lightly as the cold glass of your mask presses into his spine. You ignore him though, instead enjoying the feeling of his muscles shifting against your front as you press yourself harder against his sturdy frame. Your dress is too long and not being a team player right now - because if it was, it would be hanging differently. As it is, the little excess fabric it has is settling between your thighs and acting as a barrier between your bare pussy and Neteyam’s sculpted back. 

Which is a problem, obviously, because Neteyam’s back muscles should be massaging against your clit right about now. 

Neteyam makes it about three-fourths of the way back to the lab before the drug starts to hit him. He stops suddenly mid-stride, swaying slightly as one hand drops its grip on your thigh to press against the side of his head. 

“Teyam?” You say, voice soft and full of concern. Oh nooooo, what could possibly be wrong? “You okay?”

“Yes,” He grumbles, breathing coming out just a little bit shaky. “Just dizzy.”

“Maybe you had too much alcohol. Let’s hurry up and get back and you can lay down in my bed.”

You watch as he shakes his head as if to clear it, hand coming back down to hold your thigh as he forces himself to continue the rest of the journey. But once the drug starts to take effect on your large Na’vi, it shows no mercy as it wraps him tighter under its powerful grip. His first dizzy sway soon turns into another, and another. 

“Neteyam!” You shout, your grip around his neck tightening as you brace yourself against him when he stumbles forward.

“S-sorry,” He gasps, hands trying to hold you steady as he rights himself. “Sorry, tanhì. Sorry. I-I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“It’s okay,” You soothe, gently reaching up to brush your hand across his damp forehead and swiping a few braids out of his face. “Just a little farther and you can rest.”

The last trek of the walk takes significantly longer than it should have and Neteyam is not doing well by any means. His breathing is harsh now, nearly panting as he struggles to fight off the nearly constant dizziness that he’s feeling. His skin is hot to the touch, sweaty as he stumbles through the Pandoran forest, mumbling obscenities to himself in between nearly incoherent sentences as he pushes forward. You feel a little bad seeing him this way. You love him and you would never want him to suffer, but he brought this on himself. 

When another one of his stumbles nearly throws you from his back entirely, you think that maybe you gave him a bit too much. Maybe you should also get off of his back since it would probably be easier for him to walk without your additional weight on him and having to make sure you don’t fall off every five seconds, but that would mean not feeling the stretch and shift of his hard muscles under your body and, well… you never said you weren’t selfish. 

“I was thinking,” You start, voice low in his ear as your hand once again finds the expanse of his forehead, pressing against it to help keep his head up. “We didn’t see where Iäle got the drink from. Maybe she did something to it.”

“W-what?” Neteyam whispers, brow scrunching under your touch. 

You don’t respond. You don’t need to. You’re not even sure if he’s really going to remember this all anyway, but you smile to yourself regardless, pleased at the seed of doubt you’ve planted. 

The door to the lab is just in sight when Neteyam collapses for the first time. It’s a testament to how strong the Na’vi are, truly, because you know that you gave him a hell of a dose and he was still able to make it all the way back from the village before his body completely gave up on him. You do fly off his back this time when he goes down, landing heavily on your side as he crumples beside you. 

He’s not in his right mind now, so you don’t have to worry about keeping up pretenses with your imaginary injury. Instead, you scramble up, grabbing hold of his arm and urging him to stand back on his feet again. “Come on, big guy. Almost there.”

He collapses again at the door, his body falling into the thick metal of the airlock with a loud bang, and you let out a startled gasp at the sight of his head nearly colliding against it too. Fuck, that would have sucked. You want him lax and vulnerable, susceptible to your desires as you guide you both towards becoming one - you don’t want him knocked the fuck out by taking an accidental blow to the head. 

He mumbles something when you help him up again, and even in his disoriented state he’s still a gentleman as he tries his best not to put too much of his weight on you. Your hand smacks against the open button, ushering Neteyam inside the chamber as it depressurizes from the carbon filled Pandoran air to breathable oxygen. Neteyam takes a knee to rest as you pause next to the mask station, replacing your mask and pack on the shelf and grabbing a carbon mask for Neteyam. You loop the carbon mask around your own neck, worried that taking the time to try to fit it around Neteyam’s might mean the difference between making it to your bedroom and dealing with a passed out Na’vi in the middle of the hallway. 

“Come on, baby,” You say, cupping his cheek and tilting his head towards you. His big amber eyes are glazed over. You think they look so beautiful. 

It seems like forever by the time you finally make it into your bedroom. Neteyam collapses on the bed, large body taking up the entirety of the mattress as he sprawls out, legs dangling off the edge. You pull the carbon mask from around your neck, smiling softly down at Neteyam as you place the mask over his parted mouth. Your hand slips underneath the back of his head as you try to lift it up. It’s heavy in your hold, and Neteyam does nothing to help you as you try to work the strap of the mask underneath it. It takes some adjusting, but a brief moment of perseverance and you’re able to get it under and looped around his neck.

The mask itself is fogged up with Neteyam’s quick breathing and, after a few seconds, you pull it off and rest it on his sternum. 

“I feel heavy,” Neteyam slurs, golden eyes closing for just a second before opening back up, but they’re still unfocused - seeing things, but maybe not actually seeing things. 

“I know, baby. I know,” You coo, a slight pout pulling at your lips as you squeeze reassuringly at his shoulder. “Everything’s going to be okay, I promise. I’m here.”

You know the drug is supposed to put him to sleep, and that’s fine - that’s the goal actually - eventually. But it’s not ideal for right now. Things have to happen first. And with the way Neteyam is looking… well, you don’t know how much time you have left so you need to work fast. 

You climb on the bed, tossing one of your legs over Neteyam’s thighs so you can straddle it and fuck. Oh God, fuuuuckkk. The feeling of his muscular thigh against your bare pussy already makes you want to cum. You’re so wet - have been for a majority of the walk back from having Neteyam’s irresistible body pressed against yours for so long, his muscles teasing their strength as they ripple under his skin. His thigh is no different. Just a block of hard, solid, corded muscle that presses just perfectly against your throbbing clit. 

You allow yourself one experimental rock, dragging the swollen bundle of nerves across his skin. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp, hands subconsciously gripping onto his waist to hold him close. You hear Neteyam let out a noise similar to a hum at the movement, too, and the sound shoots straight to your core. 

“Fuck,” You whimper. Get it together. You need to focus on the prize. 

You force your hips to stay still and move your hands inwards, slowly caressing the flat, toned plane of his stomach as you go before tracing the bottom of Neteyam’s cummerbund with the tips of your fingers. 

“Let’s get you comfortable, okay?” You say, softly. “So you can relax.”

Perhaps you should have thought this through a little more. Neteyam’s laying down and the cummerbund ties at the back, so it's another game of ‘shove your hands under the massive amount of deadweight and see if you can fanegal your way around it’. You do, of course. You're persistent in getting what you want. But it takes longer than you would have liked and more effort than you wanted to give, especially given that you have your drenched pussy pressed against his thigh right now and you want nothing more than to hump him like a thanator in heat.

But when it’s finally off, it’s worth it to see that little extra strip of skin. You can’t wait to trace every single one of those exposed bioluminescent freckles scattered around his waist with your tongue. 

“So much better, huh?” You say, tossing the cummerbund to the floor. “Not as restricting.”

Your hands find the hem of your dress, pulling it up and over your head, leaving you in nothing but your pretty lacy bra as your dress joins Neteyam’s cummerbund on the floor. Neteyam’s hazy eyes do their best to follow your movements, and even though the confusion you see in them, they can’t leave the sight of your scantily clad body.

A satisfied smirk pulls at your lips as you lean forward, pressing your hands against his belly as the tops of your arms push your breasts together. The movement makes your clit brush against Neteyam’s thigh again, and you want to whine, want to do it again and again and again until you drench his gorgeous blue skin in your juices. But you’re caught in his gaze as his large golden eyes track your movement, unable to help tracing the curves despite his current state. 

Slowly, your hands drag down his belly, curving to his sides and messaging his hips for a moment before your fingers find the knot at the side of his loincloth. 

“Let’s get this off too,” You whisper. The knot stands no chance against your prying fingers and comes apart easily with just a few flicks and pulls. 

It feels like unwrapping a present as you pull the loincloth from Neteyam’s hips. You’ve seen down there before. The Na’vi aren’t as body conscious as humans are. Plus he’s your best friend, and there’s no need for modesty between friends. If you’ve taken a few extra peeks while he’s changing or bathing then that’s your business, just like you’ve caught him returning the favor more than a few times. 

But it still feels brand new as you stare at the flat space between his thighs. Excitement courses through your veins at the sight of it, your mouth watering at the thought that soon it’s gonna be glistening and puffy and parting at the center to make way for the real prize to come out. 

“Tanhì,” Neteyam mumbles, but you’re quick to shush him.

“Just relax, Teyam,” It hurts to pull your pussy from his thigh, but you have something more important to sit on soon. You just need to coax it out first. “Just feel.”

You settle between his legs on your stomach, hands pressing against his inner thighs and urging them apart a little further to give you better access to his center. You bite your lip to hide your smile, running a teasing finger along the slit before your lips replace your finger with a gentle kiss. 

The first drag of your tongue along his slit already has your eyes rolling back into your head. You’ve never gotten to do this before. You probably could have had other Na’vi lovers before if you really wanted to. You’re gorgeous and Neteyam isn’t the only sexy blue alien who you’ve caught staring at your assets before. But why would you ever want anyone else when you have your mighty warrior right here in front of you. Finally. 

Neteyam grunts above you as you lick at him, long and thorough swipes of your tongue across the slit, again and again, laving the area and coating it in your saliva until you taste the first signs of his arousal seeping from inside. You hum as the first bit of slick touches your tongue, coating your tastebuds and making your thighs clench together in pleasure. Your thumbs press into either side of the slit, pulling it apart slightly so your tongue can push in deeper, desperate for more of Neteyam’s delicious taste. 

Your tongue is relentless as you eat at him and you know that if he had control of his body, his hips would be canting up towards your face. You can picture it now - how next time will be. You’ll be between his legs again, mouth teasing at the flat alien space he has between his legs as you coax his cock out further and further out of its protective sheath with each swipe of your tongue. He’d have one hand clutching at your sheets, fisting them so hard you would probably have rips in them from how hard his fingers would dig into it. His other hand would be on the back of your head, large palm cradling the entirety of it as he presses you harder against him, moaning for you to lick faster, harder, deeper. You wonder how sensitive this part of him is. He’s moaning so much already, quiet punched out sounds that serve to urge you on, and you wonder how much louder he would be if he wasn’t so tired and drugged up. 

The taste of his slick makes your pussy gush, the more you lap up the more your body feels like it's on fire. You’ve heard about the Na’vi having something in their slick that’s intoxicating - your head feels fuzzy, feels good, like you're levitating on air and Neteyam is the only focal point you can see. And when you feel the first poke of Neteyam’s cock peeking through the now puffy and soaking opening of his slit, your hips can’t help the way they grind into the mattress.

You’re quick to wrap your lips around the protruding head, suckling gently at the exposed tip as your thumbs continue to rub soothingly up and down the sides of the now open slit, using the slick there to help the glide. Neteyam grunts at the feel of your lips around his cock, and he has just enough movement of his body left to be able to give a slight arch as you suck a bit harder. 

“Y/n,” He groans, and the sound of your name falling from his lips like that makes you want to scream. 

That’s right, baby. Say my name. 

It’s a blissful experience - Neteyam’s cock slowly filling your mouth more and more as it emerges from its sheath. Another inch and then another, each new barb and bump sliding across your tongue until the very tip of it hits the back of your throat. Despite him not being able to move much, you pin his hips down anyway - a dual combination of your own intense desire for him mixed with the increased need brought on by whatever is in his slick. 

His cock feels so good in your mouth, the texture along his length dragging against your tongue as the cone shaped tip of his cock bumps the inside of your cheek. You adjust again, opening your throat and forcing your head downwards. You gag when his cock breaches your airway, sputtering and choking yourself on him as you do your best to take him in. Fuck, he’s so big. You can’t breathe, can’t even think he’s so big, but you don’t want to move away. You’ve wanted this for so long so if you have to ruin your throat a little bit to make it happen, then so be it. 

The need for air cuts your plan short, and it takes the knowledge that this isn’t the last time you’ll be able to do this to allow yourself to pull off. Neteyam’s cock is shiny and glorious as you free it and allow it to slap against his lower belly. The base of his cock is the same gorgeous pattern of blue stripes that adorn the rest of his body, littered with bumps and barbs and tiny bioluminescent freckles that you know are going to feel magical inside of you. The tip is a pretty lavender color, the colors blending together almost artfully as it spreads towards the slight cone shaped head. Finally being able to look at it properly has you feeling feral, and you can’t resist the temptation to give one last sloppy lick along the entire length of it, the tip of your tongue gently teasing the ridges on the underside of the head before pulling away for good.

Neteyam’s panting is matching yours - deep, heavy, and quick as you both try to catch your breath. You climb up his body and straddle his waist. Your fingers are still a little wet from his slick as you cup his face and tilt it up, bringing his lips in alignment with yours. You press your own against his and you feel so small compared to him. His lips are twice the size yours are and wonder what it would feel like if the positions were reversed right now. You think you would burst into a ball of flames if you had him on top of you like this - his large, heavy body covering you completely and pressing you into your own mattress. Your tongue slides between his lips and glides against his own, and you moan at the rough feel of it.

“Next time we do this,” You murmur against his lips. “I want you to eat my pussy, okay?” You pull back, thumb caressing his bottom lip briefly before you bring the carbon mask back up to his mouth. “Wanna feel what that textured tongue of yours feels like.”

Neteyam gulps down the carbon like it's the only air he’s ever gotten, hazy golden eyes locked on yours as you scoot your hips back without ever breaking eye contact. Your ass meets his cock and you greedily drag your pussy along the length as you let him sip from the mask. The bumps along his length feel like heaven against your drenched cunt, the additional texture so foreign and blissful on your swollen clit. 

When you deemed he’s had enough, you drop the mask back on his chest and place a steadying hand on his stomach. Your other hand reaches behind you, guiding his cock up until the tip of it is nestled against your entrance. 

“Fuck,” You giggle, nervously. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. You’re ready, you’re so so ready. He just feels so big. He is big. He’s going to stretch you out so much. His cock is going to bully its way into your guts and you’re going to feel so full. The very thought of it makes you as terrified as it does excited. Maybe there will even be a bulge. You want to know - you want to know so badly.

With a deep breath, you start to lower yourself down on him. The stretch as the head of his cock penetrates your slick walls has you gasping. Fuck, it feels so intense, so much as his thick girth spears you open. You’re so wet, so ready for him, and the added slick from his slit and your saliva still coats his cock so the slide is as easy as it ever could be. The pressure is there as you bear down on him harder, desperate to feel more of him inside you, but to your complete shock, there is little actual pain.  

The barbs decorating his length scrape deliciously against your insides, dragging across your sensitive walls and pressing into pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had. You let out a relieved laugh when you finally fit in all that you can take. You’re so full, so amazingly full that you feel like you want to cry. There is a bulge - you can see it clear as day, pressing from the inside of your belly, and your hand caresses the bulge lovingly. 

That’s your mate’s cock inside of you. 

Finally.

When you look back up at Neteyam, you see that his eyes are rolled back in pleasure, just the bottom of his golden irises and his blown pupils are visible underneath his hooded eyes. 

“Feel so good inside me, Teyam,” You whisper, and you think the slight grunt he lets out at your words is him agreeing. “So, so good.”

His cock feels even better when your hips start to move, slowly raising up until only the tip is left inside you before sliding back down, your own pussy becoming its new protective sheath. You keep it safe inside you, cradled and protected within the loving hug of your slick walls as you ride him faster. Harder. Each push of his cock inside you feels like you're being blessed. You’ve been a good girl, you’ve earned this. And now, despite you having to play a little dirty to get to this point, your efforts are being rewarded. Neteyam is your god and you’ll worship the ground he walks on until the day you die. And from this day forward, he’ll worship you in return. 

The bulge in your belly disappears and reappears with each movement of your hips, and your clit throbs, pulsing with need and begging for you to give it some attention. You don’t want your own fingers. You’ve had more than enough of your own touch over the years. Your eyes land on Neteyam’s hand still lying limp next to him. His long fingers are curled slightly against the bed, his best attempt at clutching the sheets just like you know he would be now if he could, and you’ve imagined those fingers playing with your sensitive bundle of nerves more times than you can count. 

Your hand goes to reach for it, set on feeling Neteyam’s beautiful fingers between your thighs even if you have to guide his movements yourself. But then your eyes fall on the carefully maintained braid lying just a few inches next to that hand and your priorities change.

Yes. 

He’s your mate. He’s yours. You deserve this. You get to touch it. 

Your hips slow to a careful grind as your fingers clasp gently around the bottom of his kuru. It feels good in your hand, the hair covering the neural queue feels glossy and perfect against your palm. A small smile creeps onto your lips as you flip open the very tip of it, and you stare greedily as the hair falls away revealing the bright pink wiggling extensions of Neteyam’s nervous system. 

From behind the wriggling tendrils, you see Neteyam’s head shift towards you again, his golden eyes hooded and a little bit teary from pleasure as he watches you hold onto the most sacred part of him. 

“You’re mine, okay?” You tell him. “Only mine. Forever.”

To seal your words, you bring the pretty pink tendrils to your lips, pressing a featherlight kiss to them before caressing them with the flat of your tongue. You watch Neteyam react to the feel of your tongue licking against them. His pupils blow out more than you ever thought was possible, black overtaking his eyes and leaving only the thinnest band of gold around the edges. The sounds leaving his mouth now make your pussy clench around him tighter, and you’re again cursing the fact that you’ve even had to do this because they could be louder. He could be screaming right now, but he can’t because of the stupid drugs hold on him. 

Next time, y/n. Next time, you have to remind yourself, or you think you might go mad.  

You lick them again, already obsessed with the way they feel against your tongue and the giddy thought of ‘I licked it so it’s mine’ has you grinning in victory. 

You pull the tendrils away from your tongue and start to drag them slowly down your body. They slide wherever you take them, still wiggling and searching for purchase but never finding any as you drag them down your neck, over your collarbone and the tops of your breast. You want to pull down the cup of your bra and see if it would latch onto one of your nipples, desperate to know what they would feel like and how Neteyam would react to it, but the pulsing need between your thighs refuses to be ignored. They wriggle along your belly, over the bulge still present there, and tickle the inside of your thigh as you guide it closer and closer to your intended bonding zone. 

When they reach for your clit, the feeling has you squealing. They’re relentless, determined to find something to wrap around and latch onto, but the wetness between your thighs has them sliding and squirming and unable to bond to you. It feels so weird, so weird and so good as they try to wrap themselves around your clit. Your hips move again on their own accord, riding him harder and faster while the tendrils inadvertently play with your clit, and holy fuck - fuck fuck fuck you think you might be going insane. 

Somehow the tendrils find purchase through the wetness, a few wrapping themselves around your clit while the others stick themselves to the inside of your folds. And you can feel it - can feel the energy radiating from them. 

It’s not how it’s usually done, but you’re not the usual couple. You don’t have a kuru so it shouldn’t be possible for you to bond fully with Neteyam, but you never believed that. And now you’ve proven that you were right. You can feel the bond forming from where you’re connected - from his most intimate part to yours. 

Neteyam’s eyes are rolled back into his head again, so far gone that you can only see the whites of his eyes at the bottom. His chest is heaving under your palm, small grunts and moans spilling from his lips and even though his body can barely move, his cock twitches and pulses wildly inside you. 

You can feel his knot forming at the base of his cock, the thick ball of tissue swelling and expanding with each thrust. It’s starting to catch at the rim of your pussy and each pass over it gets harder and harder to not get caught on it. 

“Ooooh fuck,” You whine. It already feels so big. “Teyam, fuck,”

You don’t have to take it. You could pull off now and wrap your hand around it to help finish him off. But why the fuck would you do that? He’s yours. You were made for him. Meant to take him. All of him. And you’re not letting this opportunity pass without taking everything. 

The next downward push of your hips is the last one you’re able to make. Neteyam’s knot is so big and you push your hips down on it harder, making it force its way inside you under your bodyweight. You can’t help the small scream that tears from your throat as it locks inside you, tethering you to Neteyam for who knows however long - and then you’re cumming.

Your orgasm tears through you relentlessly, body shaking and spasming as your hands reach out and hold onto Neteyam for dear life. Neteyam’s cock pulses inside you, warm ropes of cum painting your insides as he pants beneath you. When your orgasm is through and you’re done shaking enough to lift yourself up again, you notice Neteyam’s eyes are closed.

He’s sleeping now and you’re exhausted, so you lay your head down on Neteyam’s chest and try to get as comfortable as possible.

His knot stays locked inside you and the tendrils of his kuru remain wrapped around your clit as you drift off to sleep with him. 

By the time Neteyam wakes up, it’s almost like nothing has even happened. 

You’re free from his knot and his cock has since retracted back into its sheath. You’ve cleaned you both up a little, wiping away the evidence with a damp cloth and even though you know he’s going to be able to smell everything still, it’s not like that matters. You’re not trying to hide what happened between the two of you - just how it happened. 

You’ve disposed of the baggie which is the important part anyway.

Somehow you’ve managed to get Neteyam’s loincloth back on. It was tricky given his sleeping position, but you’ve always been a little crafty. His cummerbund is still on the floor though along with your dress, but you’ve decided to go for a more comfortable t-shirt look after wiping yourself clean.

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed playing with Neteyam’s songcord that was at one point looped around the band of his loincloth when his eyes flutter open. He groans, one hand coming up to press against the side of his head as he looks around the room in confusion. He seems to relax a bit when his eyes land on you. 

“Wha–what happened?” Neteyam asks, voice no louder than a gruff mumble. 

He still looks a little out of it, the drugs not quite completely out of his system yet. When you look into those big beautiful golden eyes of his, they’re wide and confused. But, more importantly, they’re clear and haze free. He’s himself - he’ll remember this.

So you say your next words carefully with the confidence that he’ll remember them. 

“Iäle drugged you,” You tell him. “She drugged your drink and tried to take advantage of you. But she got called away before she could.” You reach out and cup his cheek, thumb sweeping across his cheekbone lovingly. “I took care of you.”

You hate the spark of doubt you see in his eyes at your words, no doubt thinking that Perfect Iäle would never do such a thing, but you know he trusts you. You’ve never given him a reason not to. You’re the perfect friend - kind, loyal and trustworthy. You wouldn’t say something like this if it wasn’t true. 

“I knew she was no good,” You add. “I felt it in my heart. But it’s okay. I’m here, Teyam. I’m gonna take care of you.”

Neteyam’s lips part like he wants to speak and you know there’s probably a barrage of questions on the tip of his tongue, but the leftover drug still in his system forces him to be silent. You watch, pleased, as his eyes slip shut again, sending him into another round of haze filled sleep.

You hope he dreams. Maybe he’ll dream of what you just told him - see a different version of reality in which Iäle really did drug his drink instead of you and believe that that is this reality. Or maybe he’ll dream of you - your smile, your voice, your touch.

He’ll feel it now. When he wakes up again, he’ll feel it. The undeniable pull towards you as his mate. He’ll realize that he’s been a fool, wasting his time messing with another girl when he’s had you here, perfect and pretty for him this whole time. 

Bye, Iäle, you think smugly, resting your upper body out along Neteyam’s hips and propping your chin up against his stomach.

I win.

**Special thanks to @quicktosimp and @itchaboi-itchyboy for the prompt!

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[hurtmyfavsthanks]

I love reading kidnapping whump. However, the thing I really enjoy is reading the process of being kidnapped. Like, I enjoy the chase just before whumpee gets dragged away.

I really dislike when the story doesn’t describe how the whumpee gets captured or even “whumpee felt a prick and felt their eyes close”. I feel like a good kidnapping story needs to make my heart sink.. I guess I just like the juicy details 🥰🥰

Just something I wanted to share. Haha

Yes! YES! Honestly all whump is in the details; you just gotta find people that appreciate the same details as you. I 100000% agree that the process of kidnapping is overlooked all too often. 

We need more whumpers that are sadistic during the kidnapping, not just afterwards. Whumpers that like the chase and the power trip that comes with catching whumpee, not just owning them. 

They could make it quick. Stick them with something fast acting, manhandle them into place while the drug kicks in. They'd be done in minutes, no fuss or issue. 

 But what would be the fun in that?

So they don’t. When they finally get ahold on Whumpee, easily pinning their flailing limbs to the side, Whumper only injects them with a half dose. Not enough for them to escape, mind you, but enough for them to think they have a chance.

And then Whumper let’s go. And then they watch.

What does Whumpee do? From the moment the needle enters their body, they’re on a timer. Every beat of their terrified heart is bringing them closer to oblivion, makes the distance between danger and safety seem so much wider. There's nobody to help them, nobody in sight but their attacker. What can they do?

Does Whumpee try to fight back? 

They send an elbow back into Whumper as soon as the arms around them give way, whirling around with angry, terrified eyes. Fear sends their heart pounding as their gaze locks onto Whumper. They see those cunning eyes and lean muscles, see the shine of something metallic in their attacker’s hand.

Wumpee sees the emptiness around them, both vast yet horrible claustrophobic. There’s nowhere to run.

They’re terrified, they’re helpless. And in that moment, anger worms its way into Whumpee’s heart. It’s fueled by panic, a sort of prey rage bred from true helplessness, but it’s enough to spring Whumpee into action. In that moment, they realize the only way out is through Whumper. 

So they rush forward, lashing out like a cornered animal. There’s nothing graceful about their attacks. Each push does more damage to themselves than their target, most kicks don’t even land at all. Every swing is a flailing, pathetic thing, fueled by nothing but blind panic. 

And Whumper isn’t even fighting back. They block each blow with expert precision, not even bothering to restrain Whumpee’s movements. Whumpee’s putting everything, everything into their struggle, and Whumper isn’t even breaking a sweat. There’s no sign of effort or strain in Whumper’s movements, none of the desperate urgency Whumpee feels. There’s only that grin on Whumper’s face, cruel and mocking, like they’re enjoying it

A scream tears its way from Whumpee's throat. It’s full of frustration and terror,  a high pitched whine that comes out like a half sob. They keep fighting, trying to knock down the unmovable wall in front of them. 

But Whumpee can’t keep it up forever. They’re slowing by the second; with each beat of their heart, the sedative is spreading throughout their bloodstream. Each swing is weaker than the last, sloppier. They’re swaying on their feet within minutes, barely standing against the growing static in their mind. They can’t stop the world from tilting around them.

It only sends another wave of terror through Whumpee. They keep pushing. 

But terror can only take them so far. Whumpee’s heart freezes in their chest as Whumper effortlessly grabs one of their weakly swinging fits. They don’t let go. Whumpee pulls, and they don’t let go. They kick and whine, too exhausted to even properly scream, and Whumper’s hold stays firm. Each effort to escape only sends another wave of unnatural exhaustion through their body. 

The sensation of the drug working into their system is suffocating. It forces their pounding heart to slow, smothering their terror under a thick haze, sapping the energy from their limbs. The fear is still there, still overwhelming, but they just can’t react to it anymore. 

Swaying on their feet, all they can do is stare into the triumphant, predatory eyes of their captor.

Finally, they drop. Whumpee’s body tilts forward without their control, slumping into Whumper’s chest. They're caught effortlessly as their legs finally give out, pulled into a half-hug as Whumper supports their weight. Everything in Whumpee tells them to pull away, to bite or scream or anything. But they can't force their body to respond. But they can't form a plan, can't think beyond the haze clouding their mind.

The last thing Whumpee feels as their vision fades is their body being lifted into someone's arms.  They don't have the strength left to fight it.

Or maybe Whumpee runs?

They push away from Whumper the moment they’re free, taking a stumbling step away from their attacker. Before terror can kick in, there’s only surprise, maybe even anger. They turn to face Whumper on instinct, some angry rebuke already on their lips. 

Whatever they’d been about to say died in their throat the moment they look back. Whumper is simply standing there, as if they were waiting for something. There is no explanation in their expression. Not the anger of some scorned lover, not the frustration of a failed mugging. Whumper just stands there. Eyes sharp, eyes focused squarely on Whumpee, ready to strike at any moment. 

There’s something inhuman about it, about the absence if all expression but an animalistic intensity. It calls to something animalistic in Whumpee as well. Something that screams that Whumpee is staring down a predator ready to eat them whole. 

Terror comes to Whumpee slowly, like a pressure laying itself against their chest. As their expression morphs into terror, a grin splits Whumper’s face.

Whumpee’s running before they even realize it. Shoes slamming against the sidewalk, heart pounding in their chest in their mad dash to just get away. They don’t know where they’ll go, don’t know where they’d be safe. But anywhere, anywhere is better than with that monster. 

Their escape is graceless. They run half blind in the darkness, stumbling over obstacles in their mad dash. Tears are streaming from their wide eyes, mouth wide as they pull in desperate lungfuls of air. 

They can’t hear anything beyond their own ragged breathing. They don’t dare slow down, don’t dare turn around. They don’t know if they’d managed to escape or not, and so they keep running. 

The first wave of dizziness hits them like a truck, nearly sending them tumbling to the ground. It feels like the ground is shifting underneath them, tilting side to side like a boat in the ocean. 

They stop, not because they want to, but because they have to if they want to stay upright. Whumpee leans against the nearest wall, taking deep, shuddering breaths in hopes of chasing away the disorientation. 

It doesn’t help. With each inhale, it feels like their vision is growing dimmer, their body growing heavier. It’s not long until Whumpee is resting their full weight against the wall, barely remaining upright. Their attempts to collect their thoughts crumble as their mind wanders. Each wave of dizziness breaks their concentration, and it’s becoming harder by the moment to recollect themselves.

They’re exhausted. It creeps into them like a chill, and now that they’ve stopped moving the feeling is near overwhelming. 

Panic still flows through their mind, demanding that they move. But their body won’t listen. Whumpee’s limbs won’t move despite their fear. Their heartbeat has slowed despite their terror, a relaxed, sedated beating in their chest instead of the panicked drumming from moments before. Whumpee can feel their eyes closing without their consent, and it terrifies them. 

Whumpee can’t stop themselves as their legs give out on them. They fall like dead weight, head smacking against the sidewalk. All they can do is groan, a low pathetic keening that barely manages to creep past their lips. 

The pain is just enough to bring a spark of alertness back to their eyes. Just enough to bring back the memory of their attacker. The look in their eye, the expression that gave away no motivation but malice. The gleeful smile full of a hunger Whumpee couldn’t explain. 

The glint of something sharp and metallic on Whumper’s hands. The sharp pain in Whumpee’s neck seconds before they managed to pull away. 

The revelation makes Whumpee’s throat go dry. And suddenly that pain is the only thing they can feel, a pulsing ache from where they’d been stabbed. No, injected. They’d been drugged, and it’d taken them this long to realize it. 

In that moment, as Whumpee’s eyes finally slip shut, the faintest of smiles crosses their lips. It’s mirthless, almost angry. The broken smile of someone who's just realized all their effort was utterly pointless.

Whumpee’s not awake to hear the sound of even, confident footsteps approaching them. 

It doesn’t really matter what they do. Stay and fight, run and hide, it’s futile.

And that’s the point. The point is the struggle, the desperation that can only exist when there’s a sliver of hope left. Even when that hope is an illusion, even when that hope only exists to be mercilessly crushed.

[shallyouobeyme]

Path

Platonic!Yandere!Strawhats x reader (GN)

Summary: Slightly exhausted from never having any time on your own, you decide to swindle a little bit to get to spend a day alone with nature. What could go wrong? It's not like your crew is unhinged and obsessed with you, right? Right?!

!Minors do not Interact!

TW: Obsession, Yandere, Dark content, Threatening (not against Reader), slight infantilization, drugging, Reader discretion is adviced

Day 3 of my Yandere Writetober

Today was the day. The day you'd finally have some time for yourself - you had planned everything perfectly. You'd tell Luffy, Nami, Lysop and Sanji that you'd spend your day off with Zoro watching him train and you'd tell Zoro that you'd go shopping with Nami.

Zoro always left the ship first when you had your days off where all of you were off doing your own thing, so you'd leave the ship with him and once you were outside you'd tell him you had forgotten something and that he should leave since you'd be going with Nami anyways, so you'd go back onto the boat and get your journal (that was definitely not sitting in your bag, what are you talking about).

Zoro would leave thinking you were with Nami while you'd sneak off and the others would think you had left with him. You'd get back onto the ship before Zoro would make his way down and tell him that Nami had accompanied you back when you started to have a headache and when Nami and the others returned they would think you had come back with Zoro who would probably be napping by then.

If you were really lucky then maybe they wouldn't even talk about it and your little ruse wouldn't be uncovered, then you might be able to do it again sometimes.

Of course, you didn't want to lie to them, honestly, you didn't enjoy it one bit. They were your closest (and only) friends and they had become like family to you so lying wasn't your first option, but you had tried anything else by then.

Every time you docked at a new harbour and had no important mission to attend, Luffy declared the day a chill-out day where everyone could go off on their own to enjoy a little alone time since you were usually basically skin to skin 24/7. Except, somehow, you always ended up spending the day with one of them.

Either Zoro would make you watch him train under the guise that he wanted to help you learn some self-defence (when you mentioned the flaw in his logic that you never did any training, instead always watching him, he insisted that it was about seeing the correct form first and ended the argument, given that he was the expert), Sanji would take you to the market to buy ingredients or keep you in the boat to make you try his new recipes (always something that had similarities to your favourite dish to make sure you enjoy it) and Lysop would take you to some bar or another lively area where he told his stories in which he always was the one who saved you from mortal danger. Nami was probably the best to spend the day with. She made an effort to do something you enjoyed as well, or at least she tried until she found herself seeing something pretty in a shop and dragged you in to do some shopping - she loved seeing you in the cutest outfits and made sure to buy you something pretty every time she got to spend the day with you.

Luffy was definitely the worst, you loved him like a brother and he was the best captain you could imagine, but he was so... energetic. You'd always been more of an introvert, enjoying being alone with nature and your thoughts, and he - with his endless optimism and his hunger for adventure - was not that, in the best way possible. It was just really exhausting. He always got the two of you in some trouble one way or another and even though he always managed to get you out of it again, it was really stressful for you.

You had long stopped asking why you were never allowed to go off on your own, it always got you the same answer: 'Y/N, we just want to make sure you're safe after all you were not got at fighting like the rest of the crew. We just want to protect you.' You knew that they had a point, you had never learned to fight and you were never courageous enough to raise a weapon against someone else, even when they might have deserved it - which is also one of the reasons Zoro insisted on your 'training sessions'. Honestly, a little child playing pirates could probably beat you to a pulp easily.

Sometimes you wondered why you had even become part of the crew, but the others always squashed those doubts by telling you how important and helpful you were. After all, you were an expert in most things flora and fauna and had extensive knowledge of many different cultures, which often helped get the crew out of sticky situations and often helped when Zoro got you lost again and Luffy couldn't keep going from hunger.

But even though you weren't a fighter, you figured that you'd be fine for one day on a peaceful island without any large predatory animals, it wouldn't hurt anyone if you spent one day going on a walk through the beautiful nature and finally getting to spent more time journaling about the beautiful flowers and bird on the trail.

Which is why - while you hated lying - you didn't feel too bad about fooling your friends. And it was definitely worth it. You found some beautiful specimens of rare Venus Fly Traps and rare hybrid roses, along with a beautiful field of Symphyotrichum - also known as Asters - filled with hundreds of beautiful butterflies which made great models for your doodling.

It was so relaxing that you didn't even spare a thought towards what your crew was doing right then, which was - looking back at it - maybe not too clever, because somewhere else on the island, Zoro decided that he had enough training for the day and that maybe he should try to find Nami to spent some time with you and by some strange miracle did not get lost on the way there.

So imagine his surprise when he saw Nami, on her own, looking through some shop window. Imagine Nami's surprise when she looked around and caught sight of Zorro's green hair and her excitement of seeing you quickly faded at the fact that you were not standing there with him.

Zorro jogged over to here. "Isn't Y/N with you?" "I thought Y/N was training with you?" Both of them asked at the same time and quickly realized that something was wrong. They split up to look for the rest of the crew hoping that you may have just changed your mind and decided to hang out with one of them instead.

It was clear to say that they did not become calmer once all five of them had gathered and realized that you were, in fact, with neither of them. They split up once again to find you and it was safe to say a lot of people were threatened that day (mostly by Zorro) as they combed through the island, looking everywhere they could think of to find you, slowly but surely growing more and more agitated and slightly violent, leaving a trail of disturbance and in some cases destruction behind.

You, none the wiser, were on your way back to the boat since it was about half an hour before Zorro would usually quit training and you wanted to be sure you were on the boat before him, with a little pep in your step. The smile could not be wiped off of your face, or at least you thought so.

You were proven differently when you approached the harbour and found Zorro holding one of his swords to the neck of one of the harbour workers in a very, very threatening manner.

Quickly you hurried over, quickly getting back into the habit of trying to defuse the situation. "What's going on?" you shouted once you were only a few feet away. Zorro quickly looked at you, first with a look of confusion then of immense relief. He let his sword fall and rushed over to you, so quickly that you couldn't even process it before he had you squashed in his arms in a hug so tight that you had trouble breathing. One arm was pulling you towards him, and the other was pushing your head against his chest where you could hear his quick heartbeat.

You could hear someone running away, you assumed it was the poor harbour worker who had just had a near-death experience, as Zorro mumbled something about you being safe, and how he would not let you go again, but you couldn't hear him properly with one ear pressed against his chest and one against his palm.

You tried to wiggle out of his grasp but he only tightened it. "Are you okay?" you whispered even though you probably wouldn't even be able to understand his answer, which wasn't necessary because he didn't answer. Instead, you heard him screaming loud enough for it to reach your covered ears.

"Guys, I found them!!! They're okay!" You could make out a lot of steps coming towards you and soon you were getting whiplash from getting thrown around to so many different people all embracing you tighter than the last ones and every single one seemingly being more opposed to letting you go again.

In the end, you found yourself - somehow - being held by Luffy like a cradled child, who - also - pressed your head against him. "Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you? We were worried sick about you," he questioned anxiously.

"What, no! No one hurt me, I'm A-okay, no one hurt me. Why were you worried?" "What do you mean why? You were gone, you weren't with Zorro like you said," Nami responded, quickly followed by Zorro, "And you weren't with Nami like you told me."

You couldn't help your face growing so very warm and darkening in colour because of the embarrassment of being caught in a lie. "Well," you started, not being able to help it that you pressed your face even closer towards Luffy, not able to stand the disappointment you imagined in their faces - unaware that they all couldn't help but coo over how precious you looked like that, "I may have swindled a little bit, I- I just wanted to spend some time on my own, I wanted to go through nature and journal again for once, I really didn't mean to make you worry."

"You could have told us, I'd gladly go through walks in the forest with you, who knows I might find some nice fresh fruit for some pastries on the way," Sanji said and you elected to ignore the fact that you had mentioned it towards them and that part of the whole idea was you having some alone time, but you figured you were already in enough trouble as is.

"I'm sorry, I really am, next time I'll say what I like outright," you sighed earnestly, now slightly concerned about the fact that Luffy still hadn't let you go.

"I don't think there'll be a next time soon, it's probably best if one of us stays on the boat with you from now on, just until we're sure we can trust you again, okay?" Zorro exclaimed and the others seemed to agree with him.

"What? No? I'm not a child, you can't just keep me locked away. I get that you want to protect me, but I'm my own person, I can make my own decisions and if I want to go on a walk I can go on a walk, now would you please let me down?"

Ignoring your request at the end of your rant, Luffy shook his head and shushed you slightly, "I know this is a lot to take in, but we just want to protect you, you're too frail and fragile to be alone in this dangerous world, so we'll take care of you, okay? Now I think it's time for a nap, don't you think so?"

You tried to argue that they should stop treating you like a child right that instant when suddenly there was a little vile of liquid brought to your lips and you couldn't help but swallow it in shock. You tried to fight back against Luffy's grip, tried to ask them what the hell they were doing and what was happening, why they were suddenly acting so strange, but every move felt like you were weighed down by a thousand tons and your words came out slurred and more and more quiet before you couldn't keep your eyes open and fell into a deep, disturbed slumber. Unaware of how much your life - and your position in the crew would change.

N/A: As a new blog, I'd really appreciate a like or a reblog or maybe even a comment if you enjoyed ❤️

[revehae]

warnings: noncon, drugging

wc. 837

repost. i found this in my docs accidentally (which is silly because when i intentionally looked for it i couldn’t find it…?)

the night feels mistier than it looks, the moon marveling down at itself as it reflects in the water and a bridge of light gleams gently across the still lake. jeno’s car isn’t parked too far. if you tried to walk there in this state, it wouldn’t feel that way, but it’s just shy of the edge.

mark and jeno would never let you make that journey though, not without their support. you never used to think that you were a lightweight, but considering mark and jeno have to nurse you every time you drink together, it was safe to say that you couldn’t hold your liquor.

they’re such good friends, you always tell yourself the morning after, helping you take care of yourself and still inviting you back the next time. you tried to tell them that you wouldn’t be upset if they didn’t want you to come, you wouldn’t want to babysit a drunk grown woman either, but the two insist that you are far from a nuisance.

tonight is no different from any other friday night that you spend getting drunk with your trustworthy friends. you each have a couple of drinks, downing shots in between laughter and chatter. nothing’s out of the blue, really. until it is. until that strange, familiarly unfamiliar feeling creeps up on you, the isolation of your debilitated senses, the lack of control altogether.

it always goes like this. a few shots, some jokes, some stumbling around. mark and jeno crack the jokes now, laughing at how drunk you are, but nevertheless holding onto you. jeno’s holding onto your left while mark’s got your right, their distinct touches peculiarly familiar to you for whatever reason. you know mark’s calloused hands and hardened palms when you feel them, as you do jeno’s strong grip, because he never not fails to remember his strength.

they guide you to the car, assuring you that they’re going to sober you up with some water mark brought to jeno’s car but for whatever reason didn’t think to bring out with the the drinks. and then it’s blank, foggy and unclear.

you don’t remember jeno’s unforgiving hold on your wrists, his merciless pace as if he’s trying to squeeze you into his leather seat. you don’t remember his degrading little words as he breaks character, going on about how you’re so, so stupid. so trusting. too trusting. you don’t remember mark’s toughened hands on your hips as he bulldozes your pussy, nothing but, “fuck,” leaving his mouth.

hell, you don’t even remember hearing them play rock paper scissors to decide who gets to have their wicked way with you before the other, mark being the lucky guy tonight.

because when your senses are restored, the sun is up and you aren’t at the lake anymore nor are you inside of jeno’s car. given that mark’s place is closest, they took you there for the night, and it’s his spare room that you wake up inside of.

when you meet mark and jeno in the morning, they even have breakfast going, and everything’s so overwhelmingly normal in spite of the strange feeling that possesses you.

because when mark wraps his arm around you in a sweet hug, his hand brushes a sliver of your exposed skin even though you’re fully dressed, and it feels strange. when jeno whispers something in your ear about mark’s cooking skills or lack thereof, his tone and the little chuckle that follows is too familiar.

and it starts to occur to you, the memories of what happened the night before, through a thick, blurry haze. mark’s mangling weight on top of your body and rough fingers. jeno’s harsh words that are hardly jokes, violent and sweaty skin sticking to yours.

it’s so distant that you can’t tell if it’s a dream or a memory, but to your horror, it feels so real. it explains the stinging around your wrists and the bruising at your hips, the sticky stuff in your underwear.

but you don’t want to believe that mark and jeno are capable of hurting you. not when they take care of you so much more than they have to, not when they’re always so sweet and kind, so loving.

you ask mark and jeno if anything happened last night a couple of moments into breakfast, an unsettling feeling like bile in your throat. it’s different than an average hangover, it spreads all over and wrecks through your whole being like an implacable virus.

mark and jeno play dumb, as if they’re totally oblivious to what you’re implying, even if they remember in detail what you would never be able to recall as descriptively as they do amongst each other. they say that you passed out in the car, and it’s so convenient, almost too convenient, but that’s their story and they stick to it.

and really, you don’t press for the truth, because you wouldn’t know how to accept your friends being anybody but who you think they are anyway.

[merakiui]

Skully trying to drug you with an aphrodisiac during a date but you switch your drinks while he's distracted. Now the poor skeleton is stuck hiding his hard on in public while tease him relentlessly as payback

T_T loserboy Skully with his failed attempts at kidnapping and drugging you... he is just never successful. Maybe it's bad luck or you're aware of what he's trying to do, but somehow it's always backfiring on him. >_< now he's trying to get through this romantic date without cumming to the sound of your voice every time you open your mouth to talk,,, even worse if your foot is prodding at his hard-on beneath the table. orz

He's sweating like crazy in his suit, burning up so badly he has to loosen his tie and tug at his collar. The moment you're somewhere that isn't public is when he's clinging to you, the gentlemanly façade in pieces when he begs you to relieve him, tears in his eyes. :< how can you say no to such a cutie? The cringefail aura only adds to his appeal. Maybe one day you'll let him drug you successfully, but until then it's going to be awkward situations and suffering for Skully. <3

[lovesick-wonderland]

Saccharine || c.yj

Summary: In which Yeonjun is addicted to your sweetness.

Warnings: DARK CONTENT, 18+, corruption kink, drugging, noncon, posessive yeonjun, jealous yeonjun, dom yeonjun, unprotected sex, naive y/n, y/n wears dresses and skirts, y/n has a vulva

Minors please DNI

Dislcaimer: this is a work of pure fiction. I do not condone the actions of any characters in this story and the actions do not reflect the idols in any way.

You're not his usual type, Yeonjun tells himself.

You're too sweet with your soft voice and doe eyes. Your pretty skirts and dresses. Too sacchrine that you drown out his other senses with your honeyed voice and personality.

But something akin to jealousy blooms in his chest when Beomgyu whispers something in your ear and you giggle or when you curl up in Soobin's chest when you watch a movie with him.

He reassures himself that you're not Soobin or Beomgyu's type either. Soobin always preferring older, more mature people while Beomgyu preferring someone with a bit more bite to them.

But that doesn't stop jealousy from rearing its ugly head.

Part of him hates it. Part of him hates the grip you have on him but he can't help himself being drawn to you like a bee to nectar.

But you're just too sweet he can't help but indulge.

It's not hard to slip something in your drink when you invite him over for your weekly hangouts.

You're cute when you're drowsy, fighting sleep, eyes fluttering curled up in your shared blanket with him on the couch. You even let out a small yawn and apologize to him before you finally fall asleep.

Yeonjun is estatic when he finally hears your breath slow and grow heavy. Quickly carrying you to your bed, veins buzzing with excitement.

You're finally his. Not Soobins, and especially not Beomgyus.

He drops you on your bed, climbing on top of you, taking in the sight of your cute sleeping form.

God he was going to ruin you.

Yeonjun captures your lips in a kiss, hands cupping your face. It's intimate, a kiss fitting of a lover and Yeonjun almost wishes you're awake. Would you kiss back? Would you be blushing? Or would you be forward? Would you freeze? Or maybe you would react with disgust, pushing him away?

Yeonjun moves down your neck, sucking hickies into your skin, marking you as his as he ghosts his hands up and down your body. His members will know exactly who you belong to.

He sits back and takes in your slightly disheveled appearance. You're so innocent and pretty like this, hair sprawled out, eyes closed, sleeping away without a care in the world or knowledge of what he was doing to you. Your skin starting to turn red and splotchy from the hickies, your lips swollen and slicked with saliva.

Yeonjun doesn't bother fully undressing you, skilled hands pulling your top up and fully discarding your bottoms and underwear. He doesn't fully bother undressing himself either, only taking off his bottoms and leaving his shirt on.

He pecks your lips before prying your legs open and trailing his lips down.

Fuck you look delectable.

He licks a stripe down your pussy, checking for any reaction. He lets out a groan at your taste before diving in and eating you out like a man starved.

He can hear your soft moans and light breaths as he continues. His hand gripping your thighs to keep you open as you approach your high.

He can feel you tighten around him as his tongue swirls inside you. He leaves your cunt, wanting to see your face when you cum. He replaces his tongue with his fingers as he watches you. You squirm slightly from his touch, letting out a whimper.

"It's okay sweetheart, be good for me and let yourself go." Yeonjun murmurs.

Yeonjun thinks it's cute as you cum with a whimper, your face flushed and body slightly sweaty, half undressed with your shirt pulled up to expose your chest.

He quickly removes his fingers and kneels between your legs, tugging at his already hard leaking member as he lines himself up with your slick hole.

Yeonjun lets out a huff as your tight walls engulf him, trying to move slowly as to not wake you. He lets out a moan as he feels himself bottom out, bumping against your cervix.

He begins thrusting, short and shallow, trying to carve himself into your walls.

You just feel too good. Your walls hugging him tightly, sucking him in deeper. Your small moans and breathy whimpers spurring him on.

It isn't long before Yeonjun's self controls slips away. How could he when you were just so addicting and sweet?

He folds your body into half, legs pressed against your shoulders as he fucks into you hard and fast.

Too caught up in his pleasure, Yeonjun doesn't notice it when your eyes begin to flutter open, awoken by the jostling.

"Jjunie? What's going on?"

Yeonjun freezes as ice fills his veins as he sees you gazing at him with your sweet bleary eyes. This was not supposed to happen.

His hand leaves your leg and comes to stroke your hair.

"Shhh, just go back to sleep. It's just a dream."

You slowly nod and lean into his touch, head not fully processing things as you mumble something incoherent as you doze off again.

You're so adorably naive, Yeonjun thinks to himself. Never questioning him and always obeying him.

Yeonjun resumes his previous pace before you awoke, chasing his high. He can feel you're close, hand snaking down to rub your clit in rough circles.

It's not long before you reach your high, taking Yeonjun along with you.

"You want my cum that bad? You're so good for me, aren't you? Take it like, it's all yours." Yeonjun speaks, out of breath.

Yeonjun's eyes roll to the back of his head as he cums inside you, feeling your walls pulse around him, milking him, begging for his cum.

Yeonjun pulls out slowly, eyes focused on your ruined cunt and how his cum oozes out of you.

He scrambles for his phone, quickly taking a picture of you and then one of your ruined pussy.

He lets out a small 'tsk' as he scoops up his cum and pushes it back inside of you.

He captures your lips in a sickly sweet kiss, his form suffocating your body.

"Not that innocent now, hm? You're just too sacchrine for me to resist, aren't you?"

[itsabouttimex2]

Drifting in Seafoam

(I don’t have enough ‘rare character’ bots, so I made one of Ao Guang!)

Suffering is easier to swallow when it comes with an excuse.

Ao Guang has long learned the worth of these words. It’s hard to break free from the relief they have brought him. If he can pretend that there was meaning to the loss that he’s suffered, to the grief he’s endured, then he can bear it with less tears.

His son, Ao Bing, slaughtered and burned by a Celestial Prince. His son. His little prince. His pride and joy. His darling child. His baby boy.

Gone. Reduced to dust. Left to drift in the wind until those motes of flaky grey had settled to move slowly across the waves of the placid eastern sea.

Sometimes, Ao Guang was sure he could feel precisely which current was carrying the remains of his beloved son, whose ashes would forever be cradled and adored by the sea in which he was raised.

“You mustn’t stray from me,” the dignified king instructs, one wrinkled hand reaching to trace the keratin of your draconic horns. “You must never leave my side, Y/N.”

He slowly takes your hands into his own, holding them tight. He’s been through so much, and lived for so long- and still hasn’t so much as mildly faltered in his strength.

“You are so very much like coral,” he sighs, holding tight to your hands. “So bright and colorful. And so, so very fragile. Drifting slowly through life as the world rages around you… I shall never allow you to come to harm.”

Still are you awkward with the forked tongue so “graciously bestowed” upon you, so the most graceful response to be mustered is a sloppy: “Yeth- yeess. Yes. Yes, and th-thank you, Your Highness.”

“None of that,” Ao Guang sternly instructs, brushing some of your hair behind one of your newly pointed ears. “I have taken you as my own, haven’t I? It is no longer appropriate to refer to me so formally.”

You don’t miss the slight weakness in his voice- this isn’t something the king “wants”. This is something he needs.

It’s feels like a personal insult to yourself, giving in so easily. But there’s no point in fighting, no point in arguing.

Not when His Highness now commands so much of your life, and in so many ways.

“Yes… yes, Bàba.”

In the bend of his knees, there’s the slightest bit of quivering. Slowly does the dignified dragon kneel to your level, cupping your cheeks in both of his old and worn hands.

Ao Guang is cold to the touch, but there’s an incredible amount of warmth in his baggy eyes.

He’s been crying, clearly. Only late at night, when no one but you is around to hear, only when you’re wrapped in his arms.

Not that you were awake for any of it. Guang had made sure of it.

“Very good, my child. Now…”

And there’s the moment you were fearing. That trailing beat. The slightest of pauses, where the king is either planning or plotting maybe even questioning next his actions… before going through with them in the simplest way possible anyhow.

“Allow me to make you another cup of tea.”

“Baba,” is your prompt little whine, draconic tongue flicking around in trembling worry. “My hornth- my horns still huu-urt. N’my ears.”

Compassion glimmers in the seafoam hue of his eyes, his gaze softening slight.

“…I’ll make it special for you,” he promises, using one worn hand to pat your head, “and mix in something to help with the pain.”

As he once did with Bing, so long ago. Boil something hot and sweet to soothe cramps and headaches and fevers.

Guang firmly takes one of your hands into his own, pulling you slowly along to the palace kitchen.

The polished tiles click under his boots, each step sinking a further feeling of helplessness into your heart. You always end up wishing that the journey would take longer- but the click, click, clicking lasts so woefully short a time-

And soon Ao Guang’s hands are around your waist, boosting until he has you settled on a wooden chair with restrictively snug armrests and a padded back.

This… this chair was brand new. And with how perfectly it conformed to the fit of your build, it was very likely that your “adoptive father” had it commissioned and custom-built for you.

At the notion of being treated like a troublesome or helpless child, your face reddens. “Ah, b-baba? The n-normal chair ith- is fine…”

“Hush, Y/N,” he starts, grinding several dubious ingredients with a pestle. They crumble quickly under his powerful hand, and are swept into a ceramic kettle with a winding draconic design.

Once Guang fills the lot and moves it over a stove, he continues to speak.

“You cannot hold yourself through the process of transformation, can you? I saw fit to provide you with some measure of comfort, little conch.”

The little nickname slips off his tongue with practiced ease- you clearly are not the first person he used it for.

Still, he says it so genuinely and warmly that it.. it manages to soothe you in some small measure- that is, right until you hear a tittering whistle- and the tea is done.

In small ways does the bereft man dote on you, even as you squirm and bite back a gasp at the dreaded squeal of the kettle. He mixes inside the teapot a combination of honey and sugar and some nebulous white powder, stirring the mixture together with a little silver spoon.

He plates the little white cup and brings it before you, taking the golden handle between two of his old fingers. As he did twice before, and was bound to do many times again- Guang lifts the rim to your lips.

“Little Conch… I cannot wait to see how you change next.”

[diejager]

Okay so imagine this RBF Horangi is sneaky when it comes to his friends step daughter he watches your expressions whenever him and Konig decide to fuck you; you always grimace at Konig’s display of affection whenever he deludes himself into the fantasy of your shared love and yet you always seem to somewhat relax around him. On the day that Horangi made you squirt he realized he had opened a Pandora’s box (literally) so he decides to play a lil trick on none other than Konig. As they see your mother off they immediately jump your bones and right when the opportunity arises he spikes Konig’s drink which knocks him out and Horangi decides to whisk you away from your big bad papa Konig but being sure to leave him a lil note telling him that you were always meant to be with Horangi

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, STEPCEST, non-con drugging, kidnapping, squirting, possessive behaviour, tell me if I missed any.

He began to see a difference in his relationship with you and the one you had with König. There was a distinct discomfort you portrayed on your face whenever he touched you, his hand lingering on your shoulder and lower back while you waved your mom off on her month long business travel. König was too delusional to see the wince that pulled your lips thin and teary eyes staring down, adamant to not look at either men, but you didn’t react as strongly to Horangi. A small grimace or a few stray tears, but you weren’t as tense or withdrawn by his side, more relaxed under his touch and more opened to his affection. 

He figured it was because he made the decision not to marry your mother, staying as the father’s best friend figure that always came by to drink and laze around with your stepdad. This decisive act was a game changer in his mind, the best decision he could’ve ever done compared to König. Granted, his giant friend was the first to see you, branding you as his object of obsession before Horangi was introduced to the family. He hadn’t been bothered with he idea of sharing you, he never was, especially with someone as trustworthy as König, yet he kept seeing this common trend with you: your hesitation, your reclusivenes, and your little frowns. 

It called to him like an abandoned kit would, a poor and neglected kitten that was ripe for the picking and pitifully adorable, mewling and stumbling for affection and care. It simply made sense if he was the only one to care for you, no? When he was the first to make you squirt, tasting your bitter slick at the back of his throat, tongue licking it from his scarred lips and cheek, sucking his fingers clean and licking your cunt of all your cum. It was all he could think of, the taste of you on his tongue, the feel of you around his fingers and the pretty sounds in his ears.

You called to him, your every thought, your ever cell, your very being called him to possess you, making you his alone. All he had to do was act upon his invasive thoughts. He spiked König’s drink when he wasn’t looking, sharing their usual drink in the evening while they let you rest from the last rough fucking, they rambled and watched the Tv, jumping from one random subject to another without so much as a slip of his tongue about his plan. He knew his betrayal would sting both of them, to have your trusted friend stab you in the back and to throw away a long and precious relationship would hurt them, but Horangi had to have you. 

And when König’s head bobbed with sleep, ultimately slumped forward, his beer still in his grasp, Horangi slipped out of the couch, up the stairs and into your room. He stood at the door and admired your naked and bruised skin, purple welts swollen and cunt still wet and crusty with their loads. He dressed you carefully, aware that any fought and quick movement would wake you, scare you from following him and wake König with that sweet voice of yours. He left with nothing but a few bags and identifications, anything from clothes to jewellery and appliances were useless to him, he could buy them anew and give you better versions of them. 

Whatever you wanted was yours, all you had to do was to follow him and marry him. He wasn’t delusional, he knew you were meant to be him, it was written in the stars as much as your being belonged to him to love and provide.

[rocorambles]

Final Girl: Act I

Pairing: Daichi x Reader x Kuroo

Tags: NSFW, Yandere, Non-Consensual Drugging, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Daichi and Kuroo being grade A creeps 

Summary: If only you hadn’t been so focused on intently staring at the ground in an attempt to avoid those piercing hazel eyes, maybe then you would have noticed the momentary smug cold gleam in those deceptively kind brown eyes as the two men exchange a glance. 

Link to Final Girl: Act II

You are a complete moron. Torn between screaming and crying, you let out a strangled sound between the two as you furiously clench your fists around your now useless steering wheel. It’s almost laughable how cliche the situation you find yourself in is. You can even see the imaginary script in your head. 

Scene: Girl in broken down car, cell phone out of battery, stuck in the middle of nowhere on a dirt road, torrential downpour

You’ve always rolled your eyes in annoyance at the dumb damsels in distress you’ve seen on screen, all in predicaments easily avoided if they had used a single ounce of common sense. And now here you are, just like them, all because you had stupidly scoffed at the numerous warnings about the inclement weather. 

What harm could a little more rain than usual do? Apparently, a lot.

Weighing your options, a brick of disbelief and hysteria swells and sinks inside of you. There’s no way you can stay in this car. Even if you wait out the flash floods and stormy nightmare outside that looks to have no end in sight, you’ll still have a broken car and dead cell phone with no city or town anywhere near walking distance. You’ll need to venture out into the forests that surround you on either side in hopes of stumbling upon a cabin with kindhearted folks who’ll help you out. 

It’s not a long shot that you’ll find some nearby residents. Despite this area being off the beaten track, you know there are plenty of people who’ve migrated here in search of a quieter and more remote life. You yourself had ventured out here for a long weekend solo getaway to rest and reset (the premise of this whole unfortunate scenario). But that doesn’t stop that same stereotypical script from playing in your head as you anxiously exit your car and delve into that intimidating expanse of greenery. 

Scene: Girl walks into the woods, disappearing out of view from the road, only the stillness and silence of the forest left in her wake   

You grimace as mud squelches under the weight of your steps, as floods of water stream down your face. Your one saving grace is that at least there’s still daylight to guide you, but even that is quickly dwindling as the sun continues to set. Anxiety laced with fear begins to claw at you as darkness begins to spread. 

How long have you been searching? How far are you from your car? Do you even know where you are? Are you lost-

Your body stiffens in shock as your frantic eyes see a glow of light up ahead and your frenzied thoughts are cut short by adrenaline as your legs scramble forward before your brain can catch up, stumbling towards that literal ray of hope you see in the distance. Relief washes over you as the sight of a cabin becomes clearer the closer you get to your destination and primal instincts take a back seat as you slow down, cautiously assessing your surroundings. 

It certainly doesn’t look like a murder house. In fact you’re almost in awe at how chic and charming the “cabin” in front of you is with its sleek black rustic yet modern structure nestled among a gorgeously curated landscape. The inhabitants certainly had taste and money, but you know better than to immediately equate to being “good”. Do you take the risk of ringing their doorbell?

Life makes that decision for you and your heart pounds in terror at the feeling of a hand grabbing your shoulder, head spinning to locate the source only to be locked in a staring contest with sharp hazel eyes. 

“My, my. What do we have here? A little chick separated from her flock?” 

You shudder as the low slow drawl of his words slither unpleasantly against you, an interested predatory lilt in every syllable. This was a mistake, you need to get out of here, run-

“Kuroo, what’s taking you so long- Who’s that with you?” 

So distracted by the sudden stand-off, neither of you had noticed the cabin door opening or the approaching figure of the man now curiously observing the two of you. 

Kind brown eyes worriedly look at you, a crease of concern furrowing between brows as the new stranger takes in your drenched state and before you can utter a word, a warm hand gently but firmly wraps around your wrist, leading you inside. 

You know it’s foolish to let yourself so easily be swayed, but even if you were to run, you doubt you could outrun the two seemingly fit men. Not to mention how your gut is screaming that “brown eyes'' is a far safer option than the man whose hazel eyes are now staring in annoyance at the two of you, not unlike a cat whose prey has been snatched from him, as he glowers and trails behind you causing you to subconsciously hover close to your savior. 

If only you hadn’t been so focused on intently staring at the ground in an attempt to avoid those piercing hazel eyes, maybe then you would have noticed the momentary smug cold gleam in those deceptively kind brown eyes as the two men exchange a glance. 

Scene: Girl enters a stranger’s house

Daichi (brown eyes) and Kuroo (hazel eyes). You now have names to match with the faces. Childhood friends who had decided the hustle and bustle of city life wasn’t for them and had bought and renovated this property together. Freshly showered in a set of Daichi’s spare t-shirt and shorts, basking in the warmth of the fireplace, stomach filled with a delicious meal cooked by the two men, a glass of red wine in your hands, you wonder what you were so scared of. Even Kuroo seems harmless, if infuriating, as Daichi and him teasingly bicker with each other about their mutual friends and shared memories they had growing up together. 

The weather had knocked out most of the power in the area leaving you without wi-fi or a way for you to charge your phone and with the roads as flooded and inaccessible as they were, there was little hope of a tow truck being able to take care of your car anytime soon. But you don’t mind the idea of having to stay a few days longer in this cozy cabin if this is how you’ll be pampered. Taking another generous sip of the ruby red liquid in your glass, you wonder how you can repay the two men. Maybe you can help them cook tomorrow…

Scene: Girl accepts a drink from a stranger

Ever the gentleman, Daichi is there to catch you as your body goes limp. 

Kuroo snorts at the chivalrous display, but it doesn’t stop him from eagerly drawing near as he follows the broader man who bridal carries you up the stairs to the guest bedroom. 

There’s no need for how gentle Daichi handles your body as he lays you on soft sheets, not with the dosage Kuroo had slipped into your wine. But he’d always been more careful with his toys, unlike the man next to him who is practically clawing off your clothes, his long lean frame already pinning you beneath him. 

He can’t really blame his companion though. How long had it been since the last warm body they’d shared? The last foolish prey who’d naively walked right into their trap? So he just patiently watches as Kuroo eagerly partakes of you, only making warning comments here and there when the taller man is close to leaving too many marks that won’t be easily explained tomorrow. And when he’s done, your essence dripping from his mouth, your nipples and clit perky and begging for more attention, trails of Kuroo’s cum littering your body, it’s Daichi’s turn and he carefully savors you, relishing in how sensitive and responsive your body is even if your mind is far, far away, blissfully ignorant of your current predicament.

Scene: Girl is taken advantage of.  

You groan, head throbbing, the daylight sneaking through the curtains doing nothing to alleviate-

Wait, daylight? 

Momentary panic sets in as your mind whirls to remember what had transpired, eyes taking in the strange room you’re occupying. 

Had you…drank too much? But you could have sworn you only had a couple of glasses… Maybe it was just the exhaustion from the trying night you had? 

Your thoughts are interrupted by knocking on your door and you instinctively tense up as a head of spiky black hair peeks out at you. Despite the questionable first encounter the two of you had, you had convinced yourself that it was just a misunderstanding, that Kuroo was just a little more crude and rough around the edges than the average person. After all, if someone as kind as Daichi was close to him, surely Kuroo couldn’t be so bad, right? 

But now that it’s just the two of you again, no Daichi to act as a comforting barrier, apprehension freezes you as Kuroo ambles towards your vulnerable figure still tucked underneath bed sheets. You swear there’s hunger in those hazel eyes and you shudder under his gaze, feeling it rake across your body, shivering at how small you feel as he towers over you when he reaches you, his legs pressed against the bed frame, upper body teasingly leaning over you. 

“Some water for Sleeping Beauty.”

Technically he’s not touching you, but that thought does nothing to comfort or protect you from the heat of his body or the vibrations of his words as he practically cocoons you, going out of his way to almost embrace you as he uses the act of carefully placing a glass of water on your side table as an excuse. But before you can even react, he’s already pulling away, a self-satisfied smirk splayed on his face. 

“Prince Charming is making breakfast. Come down when you’re ready.”

As your thoughts race with the conviction that you need to do everything you can to escape this place, Kuroo hisses in satisfaction, calloused hand palming the growing bulge in his pants outside your closed door. Fuck, if only you knew how delectable you look, trembling, scared, at his mercy. He can still taste you on his tongue, his cock twitching as it remembers how perfectly your walls had wrapped around it. And he wants more. 

Time to wrap this little play up. 

End of Act 1. 

[suchafaunystory]

Need

A faun, forced to take a powerful aphrodisiac, leaving her so horny. so leaky. and so needy.

she’s on her knees before you, begging with her eyes as much as her words. she drools, staring up at you, mind filled with images of all the things you can do to her…

every touch sends pleasure though her thanks to the drugs in her system leaving her so sensitive. the more you use her, the more you fuck her, the less coherent she becomes. her begging rapidly devolving into broken words and needy, horny noises as you do what you want with her. begging and begging until she can do little more than drool and moan as her body is taken advantage of.

it’s unclear if her mind will ever recover, be she certainly doesn’t seem to mind~