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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 26 days ago

Text

Three Pointer 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: When you go down to see your brother at the basketball courts, you find yourself drawn into a game you don’t quite understand.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Note: I think one more part will do the trick.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Photo Sources: #1 #2

"Whatever she said, she's lying," Carter spits.

You stand, dumbfounded, speechless. You must be imagining it. No way he's talking to them like that. No way they're doing what they're doing. It was only basketball, it was only ice cream.

"Ha," Bucky scoffs. "She didn't have to say anything. You said it all yourself."

"Bro? What does that even mean?"

Steve clucks. "We heard you and your buddies. And we heard the way you talk to her."

"Whatever. You guys were across the court."

"Funny thing about super soldiers, we got sharp ears," Bucky snorts.

"Even if we are old men." Steve chirps.

"Um, it's... please. It's okay." You say.

"She's useless," Carter shakes his head. "What's the big deal. Saw you two showing her how to hold the ball. She can't do nothing."

"You know," Bucky crosses his arms. "I had a sister. Give anything to get her back. Some people just don't got sense."

"I'm sure she was a lot smarter than here--"

"On more insult and I'll rip your tongue out," Bucky points at him. "So, step back and shut your mouth. She needs to pack."

Carter's eyes widen and his cheek twitches. You look at Bucky then Steve. They're staunch and unbending. You never once won an argument with your brother, you don't think you will with them.

"Come on, sweetheart," Steve beckons you with him as he moves toward the door. "Let's grab your things."

You nearly tip before you get your feet under you. You gulp as Steve waits, trailing after you as you approach your brother. Carter steps out and stands against the dingy siding.

"Good luck with her." He huffs and just as soon hacks as Bucky flicks his adam's apple.

"Warned you," Bucky tuts.

"Please. Don't hurt him," you beg.

Bucky raises his palms and backs up. "Sure thing, doll." He sniffs. "You don't got a good thing to say about her and she's still trying to protect you."

“I don’t need her to protect me,” Carter sneers.

“Please,” you stop as Steve puts his hand on the door frame. “Carter. Just stop.”

“Be smart to listen to her,” Bucky drawls.

You frown and turn away. You shuffle down the hall, Steve right behind you. You shrink down as your eyes wander to the water stain on the wall, then the bit of dust in the corner. You try to keep things tidy but the house is old.

Steve stands in the doorway of your room as you stop between him and the bed. It’s just that and a two drawer dresser and your bookshelf cluttered with a few novels, a small sewing hoop with an unfinished sunflower cross-stitch, and a crystal vase filled with buttons. Your existence isn’t very glamourous.

“Steve, I’ll be okay. Carter just says things--” you face him.

“Just? He’s not very nice. You deserve better.”

“Look, you’re a nice guy. You are the Captain after all but you don’t need to save me,” you sniff.

“Maybe I don’t need to. I want to. I don’t like bullies. Never have.” He puts his hands on his hips.

“He’s my brother.”

“Family’s more than blood.” He counters. “Look, just a few days. Let him realise he’s being a jerk. How about it?”

You rub your lips together and dig your toe into the floor. “Why, though?”

He smiles. “You’re a nice person. You deserve nice things.” He takes a breath. “Go on. Pack a bag.”

You stare at him for a moment then turn to do as he says. You grab the fraying tote that hangs from the bottom post of your bed. You pack some clothes, a book, and shove your pouch of toiletries on top. You’ll be back.

You find Steve by your window. His back is to you as he examines the taped edges of the garbage bag that seal out the bugs. He runs his fingers down the plastic.

“What happened?” He asks.

“Glass broke,” you say. “Too much money to fix it.”

“Oh...” he twists at the waist and looks over his shoulder. “How?”

You look down guiltily. You’re not a snitch. You shrug.

“Hm, accidents happen, I guess,” he says. “Let’s head out. It’s getting late. We’re all tired.”

You nod and lead him out of the room. He follows you down the hall to the front door. You find Bucky and Carter glaring at each other.

Your brother scoffs. “You always were stupid. You dumb girl. What do you think they want from you? You’ll be crawlin’ right back. See if I care. See if I let you back.”

“Stop while you’re ahead,” Bucky steps up and squares his shoulders. You brother’s about the same height but to skinny to measure up. He doesn’t say anything else. “Thought so.”

Bucky spins and points down the steps. Steve nudges you. You descend as you hitch the tote up your shoulder.

You flinch as you feel something brush up your arm. Steve curls his fingers under the strap and lifts it off your shoulder. You let him. You don’t know what to do. Everyone around you is always telling you what to do. You still haven’t figured out how to make them stop.

🏀

Bucky and Steve’s townhouse is nice. You stand in your socks and take in the front room. There’s a TV mounted above the mantle of the artificial fireplace. Along the ledge, there are oval frames around pictures and ornaments in brass.

A brown suede couch and matching chairs stand on the vintage rug woven in shades of amber, red, and beige. The tinted sconces on the overhead fixture cast a soft hue over the space and a square coffee table sits at the center of the carpet. The curtains are sheer burgundy and a polished wooden shelf stands against one wall with a curved top and an array of books across its shelves. The room smells faintly of sage.

“Make yourself at home, doll,” Bucky surprises you as he rubs your arm. “You must be beat. You put up a good game today.”

“Oh, uh... okay. Um...”

“Hungry?” He offers.

“I can make you something,” Steve offers.

“Oh, no. No, that’s... fine.” You drag your feet into the front room. “I’ll just uh crash on the couch. Keep out of the way.”

Bucky and Steve step into the archway and share a look between them.

“The couch? That’s not right. Our mothers would spin in their graves,” Bucky chuckles.

“Couldn’t let you,” Steve says. “Come on, we’ll show you the bedroom.”

You nod and go back to them. Steve still has your tote. He goes first and Bucky waits for you to follow before he does the same. You’re led up to the second floor and down to the end of the hall.

“Grab some extra pillows, Buck,” Steve says.

Bucky retreats and you hear him open another door as Steve stands in another. He turns and waves you after him. You near and he sidles inside to let you get a view of the room.

The bed is larger than any you’ve ever seen. Wide; draped in dark blue sheets beneath a grey duvet; striped linen sheathed around the pillows. The night tables match the pale birch of the bed frame beneath sleek azure lamps. The curtains are a similar shade of blue and a long dress supports a row of books between silver bookends and a mounted compass on one end, mirrored by an antique globe at the other.

“Oh, wow.”

“Get comfy,” Steve says as he puts your bag on the bed. He takes out the pouch and sifts through the contents. “You got pajamas in here?”

You scurry forward, shocked at his intrusion. You reach for the bag. “I can find them--”

“You can have one of my shirts, if you want,” Bucky offers as he leans on the door frame.

“Um... that’s okay...”

“Shouldn’t get too cold.” Bucky says.

“Yeah, we run hot.” Steve agrees as he continues to search your bag.

“What, er... what do you mean?”

Steve glances at you then looks past you. You turn to peek at Bucky. He grins.

“Bed’s big enough. Lotsa room for all of us,” Bucky says.

“All...” you murmur. “Like I said, I can sleep on the couch--”

“You won’t. Ladies don’t belong on the couch,” Steve undercuts.

“But, er...”

“We’re nice guys. You don’t trust us?” Bucky asks.

You blink and your lips part. Your eyes dart between them as you swivel your head. “I don’t mean—I just--”

“We don’t mind,” Bucky pushes away from the door. He reaches for you as he comes close. He caresses your cheek softly. “Find something for her?”

“Hm,” Steve turns with your striped pajama pants. “No.”

He tears them down the seam. You gasp. You reach for them and Bucky pulls you back. He presses himself to your back and nuzzles your hair.

“It’s alright, doll. I said, you can have one of my shirts,” he rasps hotly over your scalp.

A chill runs up your spine and prickles over your skin. Bucky’s hands knead your shoulders and he purrs.

Steve’s chin clefts deeply as his grin spreads. “You deserve nice things, sweetheart. We can be nice.”

What do you say? What can you say? The time for no was back at the house, if you ever had the courage to say so.

“Worked up a sweat, didn’t you?” Bucky drags his hair up to pet your hair. “You need a nice hot shower.”

“Me too,” Steve rolls his shoulders and stretches his neck. “Think we all do.”

You would fall over if Bucky didn’t have a hold of you. Steve nears and strokes your chin. He leans in as you’re locked in place. He kisses your forehead.

“You’ll feel better.” He assures as he pulls away.

Your skin tingles where his lips touched, a tickle left by his beard. The smell of his sweat mingles with Bucky and clogs your nose. The man behind you squeezes and turns you. Your feet move clumsily at his silent behest.

Another door opens, this one attached to the bedroom. Steve enters first. The light flicks on and illuminates the pristine bathroom. White tiles trimmed in blue; a large shower booth encased in glass, with no measure of privacy.

“Towels,” Steve goes to the tall shelf embedded in the wall. He takes three fluffy towels and hangs them near the shower.

“Um...” you murmur. “Can I... alone?”

“It’s alright, doll,” Bucky’s hands settle on the sides of your neck. “We’re taking care of you.”

“Must be new to you, huh?” Steve arches a thick brow.

“Erm, but...” you babble as your words fade to air.

Steve peels off his shirt. You gape at him before tearing your eyes away. His torso is as thick as his arms; corded muscle, dark blond hair across his pecks, thinning out down his stomach to the front of his jeans.

You latch onto Bucky’s hands and draw away. He could keep you there if he wanted, but he doesn’t. Steve unbuttons his fly and you gasp.

“I can wait my turn,” you offer.

“You’re afraid? Of us?” Steve looks at you as he pushes down his zipper.

“I... I...” you sputter and turn around. You nearly run head first into Bucky’s naked torso. He’s as broad as Steve, a little less but dark hair on his chest, and his metal arm contracts as he opens and closes his fist.

“Shh, you’re okay, doll,” he coaxes.

He grabs the bottom of your tee shirt and tugs up. You try to stop him with a squeak. There’s pulling at the back too. You twist and squirm as you’re trapped between the two men.

“Just tryna clean you up. It’s not good to go to bed dirty.”

“I can do it myself,” you whine as they get your shirt to your chest. “Please--”

“Shh, sweetheart,” Steve cooes. “Relax.”

The yank and you twitch. You have no choice but to raise your arms. The strip off your shirt and goosebumps scatter over you. You quiver and cover your flimsy bra.

Bucky pets your shoulders as Steve pulls at the back of your bra. It slackens and you squeal. What’s happening?

“You said you’re nice...” you whisper.

You don’t know if they hear you. Or if they do, that they care. Bucky pulls your wrists down and helps dispose of your bra. Your nipples peak as you’re left exposed to them.

Steve strips down to nothing then returns his attention to you. You tremble as he rolls down your shorts.

You snivel and Bucky puts your hands against his chest and holds them there. He guides them over his skin and hums. Your legs shake as your panties are yanked down to your ankles.

Steve’s large hands cup your bottom. You lean into Bucky without thinking. He spins you to face the other man. You cry out and stumble back into him. He nudges you away. His shorts fall with a soft whoosh.

“Please, I’m scared,” you say.

“Why?” Steve tickles down your throat. “Sweetheart, we’re just taking care of you.”

Slowly, the urge you to the shower between them. Hands wandering and roving over your naked skin as you cower. Steve pulls the door open and Bucky marches you inside. He gets between you and the showerhead and cranks it on.

Steve crowds you in from behind. The water sprays down from the showerhead mounted from the ceiling. It’s large enough to rain over all of you. You shudder as you resign yourself to their wills.

They work in tandem. Steve takes the loofa, Bucky offers the shower gel; they take turns lathering up your skin. Bucky, the front, Steve the back. Their hands linger on your curves, delve along the creases. Their voices roll out in soft purrs and growls.

Bucky pushes the loofa into your hand. He squeezes your fingers around it. You stare at it, your lashes webbed from the downpour.

He guides you around to face Steve and leads your hand. Steve stands patiently as Bucky helps you scrub him down; neck, shoulders, chest, stomach. The muscles tighten at your touch.

Steve trails his fingers up your sides as you wash him. Lower and you nearly recoil. His delight isn’t subtle. Like the rest of him, it’s hard to miss.

You’re dizzy as you’re spun again. This time, Steve helps you with Bucky. He brings your hands to his thick dark hair and guides you in scratching his scalp, his thick locks dripping over his face.

More hands on you; thighs, hips, stomach, chest. Kneading, feeling, groping. You are nothing more than a toy to them.

When the water shuts off, you’re left buzzing. Your legs are shaky, your head is spinning, and your skin is alight. You stand on the fluffy bathmat as they dry you off. Your teeth chatter but you’re not cold.

You look from one to the other. Their eyes are dilated and dark. They are not the friendly men you met on the court. Nor are they the heroes you saw on the news.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #dark steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #series #three pointer #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #captain america #winter soldier #avengers

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specialagentartemis · 11 months ago

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godddddd i have disliked becky chambers' work since long way to a small angry planet and I agree that that fish scene is SO much of what is wrong with contemporary SFF especially queer SFF. refreshing take, great review, thank you. would love to hear what authors or works you think of as the antidote to that sensibility.

The thing is, I enjoyed The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet when I first read it - it was a fun, light adventure, clearly a debut novel but I was excited to see where Chambers would go from there. And I actually really do think the sequel, A Closed and Common Orbit, was good! It did interesting things with AI personhood and identity.

... and then Chambers just kinda. Did not get better. She settled into a groove and has a set number of ideas that I feel like she hasn't broken out of, creatively. And they I M O kind of rest on an assumption that "human nature" = "how people act in suburban California."

As an antidote to that sensibility, I'd say... books where people have a real interrelationship with the land they inhabit, a sense of being present, and reciprocal obligations to that land; books that recognize that some things can never be taken back once done; books with well-drawn characters, where people have strong opinions deeply informed by their circumstances, that can't always be easily reconciled with others, and won't be brushed aside; books where these character choices matter, they impact each other, they cannot be easily gotten over, because people have obligations to each other and not-acting is a choice too.

And it's only fair that after all day of being a Hater I should rec some books I really did like.

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke - A man lives alone in an infinite House, over an equally infinite ocean. Captures the feeling that I think Monk & Robot was aiming for. Breathtaking beauty, wonder at the world, philosophy of truth, all that good stuff, and actually sticks the landing. The main character's love, attention, and care to his fantasy environment shows through in every page. (Fantasy, short novel)

Imperial Radch by Ann Leckie - An AI, the one fragment remaining of a destroyed imperial spaceship, is on a quest for revenge. Leckie gets cultural differences and multiculturalism, and conversely, what the imposition of a homogeneous culture in the name of unity means. (Space sci-fi, novel trilogy)

Machineries of Empire by Yoon Ha Lee - An army captain's insubordination is punished by giving her a near-impossible mission: to take down a rebelling, heretical sect holing up in a space fortress and defying imperial power. She gets a long dead brain-ghost of a notorious criminal downloaded into her head to help. Very, very good at making you feel like every doomed soldier was a person with a past, with a family, with feelings, with hopes and dreams and frustrations and favorites and preferences and reasons to live, right before they brutally die in a space war. Also very much about the imposition of homogeneity of culture as a force of imperialism. (Space sci-fi, novel trilogy)

The Fortunate Fall by Cameron Reed - Maya Andreyevna is a VR journalist in high-tech dystopian future Russia, and she decides to investigate the truth that the government doesn't want her to. She might die trying. It's fine. Also has digital brain-sharing, this time in a gay way. It's bleak. It's sad. It feels real. Not making a choice is a choice. Backing out is a choice. And choices have consequences. Choices reverberate through history. About responsibility. (Cyberpunk, novel)

The Vanished Birds by Simon Jimenez - Nia Imani is a spaceship captain, a woman out of time, a woman running from her past, and accidentally adopts a boy who has a strange power that could change the galaxy. Spaceship crew-as-found-family in the most heartbreaking of ways. Also about choices, how the choices you make and refuse to make shape you and shape the world around you. How the world is always changing around you, how the world does not stay still when you're gone, and when you come back you're the same but the world has moved on around you. About how relationships aren't always forever, and that doesn't mean they weren't important. About responsibility to others. It's a slow, sad book and does not let anyone rest on their laurels, ever. There is no end of history here. Everything is always changing, on large scales and small, and leaving you behind. (Space sci-fi, novel)

Dungeon Meshi / Delicious in Dungeon by Ryoko Kui - A D&D style fantasy dungeon crawl that stops to think deeply about why there are so many dungeons full of monsters and treasure just hanging around. Here because it's an example of an author thinking through her worldbuilding a lot, and it mattering. Also because of the characters' respect for the animals they are are killing and eating, their lives and their place in the ecosystem, and the ways that humans both fuck up ecosystems with extraction and tourism, but also the ways that you can have reciprocal relationships of responsibility and care with the ecosystem you live in, even if it's considered a dangerous one. (Fantasy, manga series)

Stories of Your Life and Others by Ted Chiang and How Long 'Til Black Future Month by N. K. Jemisin and Everyone on the Moon is Essential Personnel by Julian K. Jarboe - Short story anthologies that were SO good and SO weird and rewired the way I think. If you want the kind of stuff that is like, the opposite of easy-to-digest feel-good pap, these short stories will get into your brain and make you consider stuff and look at the world from new angles. Most of them aren't particularly upbeat, but there's a lot of variety in the moods.

"Homecoming is Just Another Word for the Sublimation of the Self," "Calf Cleaving in the Benthic Black," and "Termination Stories for the Cyberpunk Dystopia Protagonist" by Isabel J. Kim - Short stories, sci-fi mostly, that twist around in my head and make me think. Kim is very good at that. Also about choices and not-making-choices, about going and staying, about taking the easy route or the hard one, about controlling the narrative.

The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells - Security robot with guns in its arms hacks itself free from its oppressive company, mostly wants to half-ass its job but gets sucked into drama, intrigue, and caring against its better judgement. This is on here because 1) I love it 2) I feel like it does for me what cozy sff so frequently fails to do - it makes me feel seen and comforted. It's hopeful and compassionate and about personal growth and finding community and finding one's place in the world, without brushing aside all problems or acting like "everybody effortlessly just gets along" is a meaningful proposal. also 3) because it is one of the few times I have yet seen characters from a hippie, pacifistic, eco-friendly, welcoming, utopian society actually act like people. The humans from Preservation are friendly, helpful, and motivated by truth and justice and compassion, because they come from a friendly, just, compassionate society, and they still actually act like real human beings with different personalities and conflicting opinions and poor reactions to stress and anger and frustration and fear and the whole range of human emotions rather than bland niceness. Also 4) I love it (space sci-fi, novella series mostly)

#long post #asks #anonymous #book recs #lol sorry that got long. there ARE books I like! I swear!

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neuvilette-tea-party · 29 days ago

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I absolutely loved the Naga fic with both of the yans! I hope to see more in the future if you’re up to it! I do have a question, if reader were to escape or have a chance to leave how would the yans react? I hope you have a great day!

Oohoohoohoo... not a good idea, nononononononononono... How will reader survive such offense? Well... She just might!

Yandere! Naga Lord x Prisoner F!reader x Yandere! Naga Captain — MDNI! TW: Fantasy setting, Nagas!yandere, power imbalance, nobility and prisoner, one-sided affection, escape attempt, hybrid pregnancy

[Part 1]

“I suggest you choose your next words very carefully.” Lord Hael spoke coldly, looking down at the Naga bowing before him, forehead on the ground.

“She escaped, my Lord.” The trembling servant says with a shaking voice.

“And how she managed to do that, if you care to explain?”

“I do not know my Lord...”

“I gave you the instruction to monitor her at all times, did I not?” Hael demands with a voice so sweet, only poison could be tasted.

“Ye-Yes, you did, My Lord...” A noticeable shiver courses the servant’s spine under the slitted gaze of his master.

“My my, what am I to do with you, I wonder...” Hael feels his claws digging in the golden rock of his throne as the pitiful rat trembles before him.

Awaiting its fate.

“I am terribly sorry, my Lord”

“I know you are. This is the least you should be after disappointing me in such a dire way.” The Naga Lord simply waves away, standing up and lazily slithering around the poor fella.

He circles the servant slowly.

Intently

Menacingly...

Hael knew...

When he opened his eyes in his nest this morning, he knew.

You fled

How you managed it was a mystery he intends to discover later, for now he needed to locate you and bring you back to his lair.

If he is right...

If what he smelled on you is correct and you manage to escape his grip...

“I am eager to correct my faults.”

“I hope you are.” He snarls, “For your own survival, I really hope so...”

His little pet... All alone and lost in the Nagas’ territory, pursued and hunted down.

Such a fragile flower at the arm’s reach of such crude animals.

The Lord tsks, annoyed.

You really chose your timing, didn’t you? Escaping right on the verge of an all war against the human kingdoms, where he will be the most preoccupied. You really hoped he would have no time to give to find a poor little human help who escaped his lair.

Too bad, you will learn he can focus on two problems at the same time.

You are not just a help, you are his possession.

His

And his alone.

And if he doesn’t mind breaking his toys into pieces, he simply hates losing them.

“We will detach a squad of soldiers and get her back. You will help them, and if you bring her back, I will show mercy on your soul.”

“Yes, my Lord! Thank you, my Lord.” The servant grabs Hael’s hand to reverently kiss it, before pressing it to his forehead.

The Lord looks down at the Naga unimpressed and is about to send him away when he smells something. Incredulous, he sticks his slitted tongue out to taste the air.

Tssssss... Not him...

“My Lord.” A third Naga appears at the door of the throne room, bowing to Hael in respect.

This Naga is young and large, deadly, a prodigy on the battlefield, his long black hair framing his chiseled face.

“Why are you here, Captain Breezeler?” He demands, his fury at the impertinence of the soldier well hidden behind a mask of indifference. “You are supposed to supervise the front.”

“I smelled her disappearance.” The officer simply explains.

Like her disappearance was enough of a justification for him to abandon his duties toward his people in such a way!

“We have the situation under control, soldier.” He lets him, dismissing the incompetent fool who lost his little pet.

“Oh? You know where she hides?” Breezeler tilts his head, scrutinizing his Lord.

Hael turns his head to the young man, ready to berate him. But as their eyes cross, he realizes Breezeler did not mean disrespect for the only reason that he is simply too incompetent in politics to know his attitude holds so much disrespect.

Hael rolls his eyes and looks toward the opening in the wall, observing the thick forest under them.

“We do not. The teams have been searching the Palace and my Lair up and down all morning and just came back to me, by all evidence, she already crossed the frontier to her human kingdoms.”

“I can find her.”

“You.” Hael hisses dangerously, “Need to learn your place. You will return to your front and fight those punny humans. Your competencies lie in War and battles, not rescue missions. You nagged me for months to let you lead this assault and not my general. You got what you wanted, now go.”

“How curious...” Breezeler says, holding his chin pensively, “I thought you would have qualified it as a hunting mission, not a rescue one...”

Hael gives him a warning look, reminding him who sits on the throne and who obeys in this room.

The Captain slithers closer.

“My Lord, I know I can find her.”

“Are you a hound now?” He sniggers acidly, before turning away, “Return to your troops and wait for my orders, the battle will start in two days, the soldiers will want you at their side.”

Hael may deeply dislike this young officer, but he will always have respect for his cunning attitude and ability to lead his troop through mutual respect and not fear.

“If I may, my Lord. I can find her today.” The taller Naga insists.

Hael keeps his back turned to Breezeler, looking down the window regally, his hands clasped behind his back.

“She can’t direct herself in our territories, by all accounts her advancement his minimal.”

“I already ordered a group of guards to find her.”

“I can find her alone. I know of her, I tasted her skin, inhaled her scent deep into my lungs, and know her heartbeat by heart.”

Hael sighs once, pinching the bridge of his nose before spinning toward the young Naga.

“24h.” He orders icily, “You have 24h, not a second more. If you fail, you return to the battlefront and leave my general to lead the troops. Is that clear?”

“Yes, my Lord. Thank you.”

And the Captain bows, slithering back into the shadows, leaving his Lord to admire his lair and contemplate what punishment would fit such a grave offense.

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

You are definitely and irremediably...

Lost.

Every place in this forest looks alike, and you keep returning to the same small river. You fall to your knees, exhausted, and splash water on your face, desperate for some freshness.

You are so fucked...

You look at your reflection in the clear water, contemplating how your life derailed so spectacularly. You just went out to find medicinal herbs... And now...

Your hand lays on your bately swollen stomach

Now... Your menses are late…

Worryingly late.

You sigh...

Lost, tears in your eyes

If what you fear comes true, how are you going to survive?

You bend over and dive your face into the cold water and scream all that you have. You feel each bubble rolling on your face before piercing the surface. You take it out with a huge gasp for air, panting like after a run.

You jump, hearing a crow flying from far, far away… maybe one of them….

Surely even...

You crawl back, too fatigued to run and freeze when you hit a trunk, blocking your escape. You look around and find a bush of red berries…

Poisonous berries…

You look toward where the crow took off and listen.

A low hiss…

You grab one berry and gulp. Better dead than a fiend’s mother!

You gulp one more time and bring the berry to you mou- An arrow just comes and tears it off your grip, striking into the trunk behind you.

You look at the berry, now exploded onto the arrow’s head thrusted into the bark. It… it did not even brush your skin!

Such a perfect shot can only come from one man... One Naga.

And sure enough, you see his tall frame detach itself from the shadows of the trees in front of you.

Captain Breezeler.

You are stuck in a freeze response, stupidly exposed to the monster that approaches you with the hardest face you have ever seen him.

He slithers closer and closer with a low hiss, slitted flaming eyes darting on poor you, on the hunt, excited by the blood and the fear.

“There you are, my Lady.” He greets politely, like it were a mundane meeting.

You tear off the arrow and aim the sharp end at him, hoping it could pierce such thick skin and scales, but here you are, rabid and cornered.

“Stop you beast!” You scream.

The Captain stops, eyes closed like he did not hear you. He sniffs the air, taking out his slitted tongue to better taste it.

You see his eye twitch a single time before recovering perfect control.

He keeps moving forward, his long tail flowing among obstacles like water flows around rocks.

“I was worried for your safety, and I was right, given your situation.” He lets you know, voice suave and placid.

“Do not move any closer!” You insist, taking a step back.

You bump against the large trunk.

“Running around Nagas’ territories pregnant is like begging to get your throat slit.” He lets you know, not slowing down.

So you were right… Your worst fear did come true…

You switch strategy and aim the point toward your belly.

This time

He stops

Deadly focused on you.

“Let me go!” You negotiate, “I will tell nothing of what I know of the Naga’s territories and maps!”

“Letting you go? While pregnant with our heirs?” He tilts his head at you, “Do you know what your kin will do to you when you give birth and reveal their ascendance?”

The tone is not haughty, not even mocking.

It is simply... serious and factual.

Like he already seen it before.

“I am human, like them! They will get rid of the monsters inside of me and tend to my wounds!”

“You seem to believe in your kin as noble beings, always ready to help and extend a hand.” He counters, back straight and head high, “You should know better.”

“We help each other!”

“Until they see the eggs.”

You want to throw out merely thinking about eggs in your stomach.

“Ho… How did you find me?” you ask, terrified, hands trembling.

He raises an eyebrow and merely taps the tip of his nose.

“I know of your scent, of your musk… It was easy to track you down. And I so dear hoped the pregnant pheromones were from you.” He deeply inhales, eyes closed and tongue out, “Delicious… Absolutely ravishing”

You twitch.

Better dead… Than a fiend’s mother!

You raise the arrow up and slam it down on your stomach…!

Or rather try...

With speed you never knew of them, the Naga oscillates in your direction and jumps on you.

Before the arrow’s head could reach your tender tummy, you are slammed into the ground with such force that your breath gets cut off.

“Ah…!”

“What do you hope to achieve exactly, (Y/n)?” Breezeler hisses on top of you, his long serpentine tongue tasting the salt of your face’s skin, tasting your pheromone all around.

“Leave me alone, demon!”

“You thought I would not react when you tried to kill our heirs? Or yourself? You are with us now… Till your death.”

His voice his that of a deadly warrior who’s seen a thousand battles and more deaths, authoritarian and deadly. But … you think you can hear the tiniest hint of a plaint in it

Like…

Begging

You are hallucinating and giving him intentions he does not have. Get a hold of yourself, girl!

You try to kick him off, punch him away, clawing your way out of his embrace. But you are nothing in front of this giant freak of nature.

He scoops you up easily despite all your struggles, and he heads back toward your wretched prison, holding you like you weigh absolutely nothing.

☆☆Taglist☆☆

#yanblr #yandere #reader insert #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x female reader #unhealthy relationships #toxic relationship #yandere nsft #fem reader #naga #naga oc #yandere naga #fanfic #neuvilette tea party #lord hael #Captain Breezeler

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