Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The rain fell in relentless sheets, soaking through Pure Vanilla’s robes as he trudged at the rear of the group. The storm had come without warning, a furious downpour that battered the travelers as they made their way through the treacherous highlands of Beast Yeast. Each step was a struggle, the earth turned slick beneath their feet, and visibility was rapidly diminishing. Pure Vanilla stayed near the back, hoping to avoid the brunt of any monster attack, but hours of combat, healing, and spellcasting had worn them all thin. Exhaustion clung to the party like the mud on their boots.

“We can’t keep going,” White Lily’s soft voice barely rose above the pounding rain. “It’s getting worse...we have to find shelter.”

“She’s right!” Golden Cheese’s voice thundered louder than the storm, commanding attention. “We’ll stop for the night.”

“There’s an inn at the bottom of the hill!” Holly shouted, her voice determined. She raised her shield, a beacon against the downpour. “Everyone, just hold on a little longer!”

The group pushed onward, weaving through tangled roots and dripping branches. The ground had become dangerously unstable, and Dark Cacao kept a close eye on the healer. “Stay close. The terrain is treacherous,” he said lowly, offering his hand.

Gratefully, Pure Vanilla took it.

Monsters began to emerge from the storm-tossed woods, twisted forms drawn to the scent of the group. The party fought their way through them, blades flashing, spells crackling through the air. The creatures came in waves, as if stirred up by the fury of the storm itself. Still, the group held formation until one monster slipped through.

A Cake Hound, slick and silent, darted between the fighters and lunged at the healer.

Pure Vanilla didn’t have time to cry out. The beast slammed into his stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. He staggered back, his footing lost on the muddy incline. With a cry, he fell, tumbling down the rain-slick slope as dirt and leaves blurred past him.

“PURE VANILLA!” the group shouted in unison, voices cracking with panic as their friend vanished into the shadowed depths of the forest below.

Pure Vanilla’s body slammed against branch after branch, each one snapping beneath him as it slowed his descent painfully. With a final, bone-jarring thud , he crashed onto the forest floor, the air knocked clean from his lungs.

He lay there momentarily, dazed and soaked to the bone, blinking up at the dark canopy overhead. He was definitely going to feel that in the morning.

Groaning, he pushed himself upright, wincing as he checked his limbs. No broken bones. No cracks. Just bruises and a bruised ego. Still, a small mercy.

Looking around, he realized with a growing pit in his stomach that he didn’t recognize this part of the forest. The trees were thicker here, older, and the storm had only made the shadows seem deeper.

“This is going to be a long night,” he muttered to himself. But he couldn’t afford to sit still. Shelter came first.

He trudged through the underbrush, the rain still falling in a steady rhythm, soaking his robes and weighing him down. Just when his legs began to tremble with fatigue, he spotted it, a dark shape nestled between two moss-covered boulders.

A cave! “Finally,” he breathed, relief flooding his chest. He broke into a weak jog toward the entrance, ducking inside. It wasn’t much, but it was dry. Safe. He could build a fire, dry off, and rest. In the morning, if the storm had passed, he could send up a flare spell to alert the others.

As Pure Vanilla stepped into the cave, a welcome stillness wrapped around him. The howling wind faded behind stone walls, replaced by the soft drip of water echoing in the distance. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

But something felt… off.

The cave was much deeper than he’d expected. What should have been a shallow shelter stretched onward into shadow. Curiosity, as always, tugged at his heart, and despite his better judgment, he ventured further inside.

With one hand holding his staff aloft, he tapped it on the floor as his staff summoned a light for him to see, and the other reached out to the cave wall. His fingers brushed against its surface, rough and cool, but… grooved? He paused, tracing the shallow carvings with interest. They weren’t natural. It was hard to tell what caused it, but they intrigued him.

The path deepened, twisting and branching like roots underground. Soon, the tunnel opened up into a breathtaking series of chambers. One led to a quiet underground lake, its surface mirror-still, reflecting the glow of his staff like liquid glass. Another revealed a stunning cavern filled with luminous crystals, amethyst, emerald, sapphire, scattered like stars across the walls.

Awe overtook him.

“Oh, the others would love this,” he whispered, eyes wide with wonder. “When I find them… I must bring them here.”

A rare, childlike joy overtook the healer. He spun his staff playfully, the faint light dancing across the crystals as he picked another tunnel to follow. For a brief moment, the exhaustion, the storm, and the fear all melted away. He giggled to himself; he felt like a real adventurer. He pressed forward eagerly until a glint from the floor caught his eye.

The light from his staff had flickered across something smooth and shiny, half-buried in the dirt. Curious, he knelt down and gently brushed it free. Picking it up, the small, iridescent object sparkled in his palm.

Thin, glimmering, and cool to the touch, a blue deep as the night sky. Pure Vanilla frowned slightly, turning it over in his fingers. “A scale…?”

Well… it had been buried in the sand. It wasn’t fresh. Maybe it had just been there a long time, washed in by a flood or dropped by some passing creature. Nothing to panic over. Right?

With his nerves calmed, for the most part, Pure Vanilla carefully tucked the blue scale into a pouch on his belt and pressed on. The tunnel began to widen, the air growing warmer and thicker the deeper he went.

That’s when he saw it.

His footsteps slowed, then stopped entirely as his eyes adjusted to the dim, shifting glow.

A nest .

An enormous one, woven together from animal furs, deep blue blankets, and tufts of shed feathers and bone. Scattered around it were more of those scales… dozens of them. And these were much larger than the one he’d found. Too large to belong to any normal serpent.

Pure Vanilla’s breath caught in his throat. “Oh… crumbs.”

A deep dread settled in his chest like a stone. His gaze swept across the cavern again, now noticing the scattered remains of previous meals: stripped bones, cracked shells, and pellets of indigestible debris. The air carried a faint musk…warm, earthy, and reptilian.

He swallowed hard. He had wandered into something's den. 

A Naga’s nest.

Okay, he got the hint. No more exploring.

Pure Vanilla spun on his heel and bolted, staff in hand, heart pounding in his chest. The glow of the cave walls blurred past him as he raced back the way he came, mud and sand slipping beneath his boots. He just needed to reach the entrance and get out of here before the beast returned.

But as he rounded the last corner, a cold dread flooded his veins.

He barely had time to throw himself flat against the curve of the stone wall, heart thudding in his ears, breath caught in his throat.

It was too late.

Something massive blocked the mouth of the cave.

A shadow slithered into view, smooth and sinuous, filling the narrow tunnel. The creature’s tail alone stretched at least ten feet, its scales a deep ocean blue, speckled here and there with black markings that looked like eyes. Along the underside, a pale, almost pearlescent white ran the length of the muscular coils.

Pure Vanilla’s eyes followed the long, graceful curve upward until he saw the torso.

Humanoid. Lean and quite tall.

The Naga’s skin shimmered a lighter shade of blue, his chest bare and defined, as if carved from a brillant blue sky. Wet strands of dark, inky hair clung to his shoulders, and glowing mismatched blue slit-pupiled eyes scanned the tunnel with a slow, predatory calm.

And if Pure Vanilla had to be completely honest…Well, ahem, he was… handsome.

But handsome or not, this was no time for blushing. He had gotten himself in quite a sticky situation, and he needed to think fast.

The Naga seemed to be dragging something behind him, a fresh kill, limp and heavy, its form indistinct in the dim cave light. Pure Vanilla instinctively took a step back.

Crunch.

He froze.

Slowly lifting his boot, he found the crushed remains of a small bone beneath it, splintered, fragile, unmistakably old. But it had been loud enough.

The Naga’s head turned sharply, his glowing eyes narrowing.

“Sseems I have a sneaky little pest in my cave,” the creature hissed, voice smooth and serpentine, curling around every syllable like smoke.

“CRUMBS.”

Pure Vanilla didn’t wait.

He spun on his heel and ran, staff clutched tightly in both hands as he tore through the winding cave. He didn’t dare look back, not even as he heard the unmistakable sound of scales dragging against stone, that heavy, rhythmic slither gaining speed behind him.

“Oh no no nononono”

A playful voice called after him, echoing off the tunnel walls.

“Oh, you’re no pest~ You're a ssweet thing, aren’t you?”

Clawed fingers swiped at his side, grazing his robe. A second later, something massive swept low behind him, the tail forcing him to leap over it in a clumsy stumble.

He barely kept his footing.

“Sssilly human,” the Naga’s voice coiled through the dark, smooth and mocking. “Where do you think you’re going, hmm? These are my caves.”

Before he could answer or think, a blur of blue struck from behind. With a swift, calculated sweep, the Naga’s powerful tail whipped around, slamming into Pure Vanilla’s side.

“Ah!”

He hit the stone wall with a dull, painful thud, breath ripped from his lungs. Stars burst behind his eyes as he slid to the cave floor, coughing, one hand clutching his side. Every breath stung. Every movement ached.

Heavy coils slithered closer. Too close.

Before he could gather himself, a strong hand seized his face. Black claws digging into his cheeks, daring to break the skin.

“Ah—!”

The Naga’s grip was firm as he was forced to look up, into those gleaming, slit-pupiled eyes that shimmered like molten sapphire in the dark. The Naga tilted his head, slowly moving the healer’s face side to side, studying him like a fresh kill.

“My, my~” the serpent cooed, his voice smooth as velvet. “Look what the storm dragged in. And quite the pretty little thing, too…”

His lips parted.

A flick of his forked tongue. Was he smelling him?

Fangs long, gleaming, and wickedly curved slid into view as he leaned closer, breath warm against Pure Vanilla’s skin.

“I wonder… how you’d taste, too.”

Panic surged through the healer. He was gonna be snake food if he didn’t get out of here. Struggling in the Naga’s hold, he twisted, but the serpent was too strong. Until an idea popped into the healer's head…Pure Vanilla’s boot came crashing down on the Naga’s thick tail, right on a sensitive joint.

CRACK!

The Naga shrieked in pain, a high, guttural hiss echoing through the cavern. His grip loosened just enough. Pure Vanilla yanked free, stumbling back as the serpent recoiled, coils thrashing violently against the stone.

“YOU BRAT!” the Naga roared, voice reverberating through the cavern like a thunderclap.

“Sorry! I’ll be leaving now!” Pure Vanilla yelped, already scrambling to his feet, no pleasant chat with the handsome stranger in his future, but it’s better than becoming a snack.

He turned and bolted, practically tripping over himself as he dashed down the tunnel, limbs aching and heart pounding.

“LIKE WITCHES YOU ARE!” the serpent bellowed behind him, tail slamming into the walls in a fit of rage. “COME BACK HERE, YOU INSIGNIFICANT RUNT!”

“I’d rather not!” Pure Vanilla shouted over his shoulder, wheezing as he ducked under a low-hanging stalactite, sprinting for dear life.

Pure Vanilla’s legs burned as he raced down the tunnel, heart pounding and breath coming in gasps. He didn’t dare look back, but he heard the Naga. He listened to every smooth, slithering inch of him echoing behind, not even trying to be quiet.

“Running already~?” came that velvety, too-amused voice again. “But we were just starting to get to know each other.”

“I prefer my introductions without fangs!” Pure Vanilla snapped, practically tripping over a jutting stone. 

The Naga gave a dramatic, almost offended gasp. “Oh, so I'm the problem now? After you dropped into my home so rudely, stepped on my tail, and insulted my hospitality,”

“I SAID I WAS SORRY!!”

“Did you, though?” the serpent crooned, clearly smiling as he drew closer. “Because it sounded more like ‘Sorry, I’m leaving now!’ while stomping your pretty little boots all over my den.”

Pure Vanilla didn’t dare speak. Every sound he made just gave the beast more reason to enjoy himself, like a cat playing with a bird, batting and nipping at the poor thing. He could feel his eyes on him, even if he couldn't see the beast.

He just had to focus. There had to be a way out.

But where?

His legs carried him forward on instinct alone, down corridors that felt endlessly familiar, yet terrifyingly foreign. The blow he’d taken earlier had left his head spinning. Was it this path? Or that one? Everything looked the same…

“Left? No, no…right?” his mind swam with doubt. “Wait…didn’t he pass this stagulite already?” Every thought is being second-guessed.

His breath stuttered, and his voice cracked out in panic. “N-No… this isn’t right. I was just here…I… I went in a circle?!”

A chuckle swayed through the air, making the healer shiver. 

“Oh, sweetheart… did you get turned around again?” the voice cooed. “How precious. You are hopeless without a shepherd, aren’t you?”

Pure Vanilla spun around, eyes wide. Nothing but the stone walls as he pierced the darkness with his staff. “W-Who’s there?!”

The voice purred from everywhere and nowhere.

“You’re such a darling little lamb. So soft. So scared. Every whimper you make just makes my jaw ache, want me to be your shepherd~.”

His chest rose and fell with sharp, shallow breaths. “Where are you?! Show yourself!”

Another laugh, huskier this time, tinged with hunger. Pure Vanillas nose scrunched up…is this blueberries?

“Mmm, now where’s the fun in that? If I pounced too early, you'd miss out on all this lovely dread~” A pause. “Besides… I want to hear you cry a little more first. Maybe beg. Crawl, even.”

A slow slither echoed from somewhere ahead.

“You smell divine when you're scared, you know that?” the voice purred, thick like syrup. “Like sweet cream and sugar.”

Something brushed the nape of Pure Vanilla’s neck, too light to be his mind playing tricks. He jumped, gasping as he whipped around and instinctively cast a stun spell. A crackle of magic lit the tunnel for a split second. But…nothing. Just shadows, dancing mockingly on the cave walls.

“Makes me want to wrap around you and squeeze,” the voice continued, smooth and slow. “Not to break you. Just enough to feel that little shiver… when you finally understand no one's coming for you.”

Pure Vanilla clutched his staff tighter, his knuckles bone-white, his heart threatening to claw out of his chest. He opened his mouth to call out, maybe to threaten, maybe to plead, but no sound came. He coughed, the smell so thick it made his throat feel like he was choking on it.

“I wonder…” the voice mused silkily, echoing all around him, “when I finally catch you… Will you struggle?”

A low chuckle slithered through the air like smoke.

“Or will you just melt for me… like good prey should?”

His feet stayed planted. He couldn’t move. His body refused, paralyzed not by a spell, but by the weight of the voice and…that smell, by the heavy presence just out of sight. Then, from the shadows behind him, a grin took shape, gleaming fangs curled in cruel delight. Eyes low-lidded, hungry, and patient. Shadow Milk's voice dropped to a whisper, rich and poisonous.

“You can run, my little lamb… but every path leads back to me . ”

Before Pure Vanilla could even attempt to suck in another breath, something slammed into the cave floor from above.

Shadow Milk dropped from a hole in the ceiling like a serpent from hell, scales glinting, eyes locked on his prey. The impact cracked through the stone as he coiled into a tight spiral, the force sending dust and pebbles scattering.

From the center of the coils, the naga rose, grinning, wild. His slit pupils were blown wide with excitement, breath curling from his lips like steam.

“Aww, little lamb,” he crooned, voice gruff with a deep growl. “What’s the matter? Let’s get comfy together~ Real comfy…”

He lunged, fangs and claws on display as the beast hissed.

Pure Vanilla barely threw himself aside, but not fast enough sharp claws grazed his shoulder, tearing through fabric and skin. A cry escaped him, pain snapping him out of his shock. Clutching his shoulder it leaked blue liquid that reeked.

He ran.

Boots slapped against the damp stone floor, breath ragged, shoulder burning. Behind him, Shadow Milk’s laughter chased him through the tunnels low, echoing, cruel.

“You know…” the naga's voice purred from the walls, “you really came at such a good time~”

Pure Vanilla stumbled, the cave spinning around him, and a shiver crept down his spine that had nothing to do with fear. 

Why… why was he feeling this way?

“I was just gonna hole up in this stupid cave for my rut,” Shadow Milk continued, voice darkly amused. “But then you dropped in, all flushed and fidgety. Mmm… who am I to look a gift lamb in the mouth?”

The air shifted thick and cloying. A heady scent coiled around him, sweet and suffocating. Blueberries. Overripe, rich, intoxicating. It clung to the back of his throat, filled his lungs, and made his legs weak.

His steps faltered.

Shadow Milk’s voice slithered close again, all claws and teeth.

Shadow Milk’s voice closed in, brushing against Pure Vanilla’s ears.

“Aww… did that little nick throw you off? ” he cooed, mock concern dripping from every syllable. “Not surprised… there’s a little poison in my nails, after all…”

Pure Vanilla stumbled again, hand clutching at his shoulder. The pain was spreading slow, tingling, warm. Too warm. His muscles felt heavier, his pulse sluggish in his limbs but racing in his chest. Was this even pain?

“How does it feel, my little lamb?” the naga whispered, voice curling into a moan of delight. “Is your body starting to slow down? Is it tingling? Burning? Begging to come home?”

The scent of blueberries wrapped tighter around him, mixing with the faint metallic tang of his blood.

“Don’t worry,” Shadow Milk continued with a twisted sweetness. “I didn’t use the strong stuff. I want you awake when I coil around you.”

A laugh echoed again, closer, much closer now.

“You should’ve seen your face when I landed~ So cute. Like a startled doe. Mmm… do it again for me, won’t you?”

Pure Vanilla’s vision blurred at the edges. His legs still moved, but it was like running through syrup; each step dragged, heavy and clumsy. His shoulder throbbed with heat, the poison lacing through his veins like a lullaby he didn’t want to hear.

“I… I just need to…” he whispered to himself, but even he didn’t know how to finish the thought.

Escape? Hide? Fight?

None of those felt real anymore.

A soft slither came from behind, casual, unhurried. Shadow Milk didn’t even need to rush now; he knew his prey was slowing down.

“Aww, don’t stop now,” the naga called, his voice echoing off the stone walls in waves of velvet mockery. “You were doing so well. All that panicked running, you were so cute come on keep trying~.”

Pure Vanilla tried to push himself faster, but his foot caught the uneven floor. He staggered and fell to one knee, gasping as the world tilted sideways.

“There it is,” Shadow Milk whispered, so close now the words tickled his ear. “Surrender, my sweet… you'll feel so much better in my clutches…”

Pure Vanilla scrambled forward, refusing to look back, even as his palms scraped against the cold stone.

“I can still move…” he murmured through gritted teeth.

“Barely,” Shadow Milk hummed. “ But I like that. That stubborn streak. It's cute.” A pause. Then, lower: “I’ll enjoy watching it break.”

A long, scaled tail slithered just out of his peripheral vision, brushing past his calf, slow and deliberate. Teasing. Claiming.

The scent of blueberries was overwhelming now, sweet, sticky, invasive. His limbs trembled, and not just from the venom. It was like his body was betraying him, humming with heat, longing for something he didn’t dare name.

“I can feel you shaking, little lamb,” the voice purred, intimately soft now, as if Shadow Milk was already leaning over him. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it feel all better…just give in”

Pure Vanilla dragged himself to the wall…if he could just get himself up…

“No, no, none of that…my little lamb is so tired…here let me take care of that…let me take care of everything.”

His face is once again squished between the naga's claws, finally faced to face again…Pure Vanillas thigh ached…this…this feel…it felt so good…dammit.

“There we go…it feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Y…yes…”

“Aww, so honest now to…does someone want a kiss?”

“...please…”

Shadow Milk leaned in, slow and deliberate, lips brushing over Pure Vanilla’s as if testing how much the healer would take.

“So warm already,” he whispered. “Hehe~ might have overdone it on the venom.”

Then he kissed him deep and slow, like he had all the time in the world. His tongue pressed forward, claiming every inch of the healer’s mouth, curling possessively as Pure Vanilla moaned into the contact.

His body betrayed him, melting, relaxing, accepting even as his mind scrambled for some sense of order…it just felt so good so right.

“Ah…!”

A sharp bite to his bottom lip jolted him, just enough to feel the sting before Shadow Milk drew back and suckled gently on the sore flesh. The naga purred, savoring the taste, the shiver, the helpless expression on his lamb’s face.

The blueberry scent was overwhelming now, sickeningly sweet, clinging to his skin, filling his head. Pure Vanilla’s body swayed, knees weakening, vision swimming like he was underwater.

And then

A sound. A low hum.

A lullaby.

Soft, almost too quiet to hear… but there. Ancient. Wordless. A serpent’s cradle-song.

Shadow Milk’s coils wrapped around him slowly, firmly, like a nest being drawn around its prize. His fingers brushed the back of Pure Vanilla’s nape as he leaned in close, lips by his ear.

“Shhh…” he crooned, his hum turning melodic again, rich and low. “That’s it sweet thing. I’ve got you now.”

Pure Vanilla’s eyes fluttered once… twice…

Darkness pulled him under water, his final breath a quiet, contented sigh.

Shadow Milk held him close as he slipped into unconsciousness, still humming softly into the silence as he slowly slithered his way back into the den with his prize.

Chapter Text

“Ugh…my head…”

Pure Vanilla groaned as consciousness crept back into his mind. His body felt impossibly warm, as if he were wrapped in a thick, heavy blanket. His mind was fogged, slow to process the sensations prickling at his skin, the sweat dripping down his brow. As he cracked his eyes open, the world swam, blurry and muted, the shadows flickering with soft, golden glows from scattered lanterns hanging along rough, uneven walls.

He blinked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, trying to push away the haze. Slowly, reality began to take shape. Stone. Roots. A high ceiling carved by nature, glistening with moisture. A cave. His hands patting the ground around him…where was his staff? His heart panged with unease, only for it to vanish as he shifted.

And froze.

Twisted around his legs, thick and powerful, was a familiar scaled tail. It was coiled lazily around his thighs, hips, and waist, cradling him as if he was something precious. His breath hitched as memories crashed into him like a tidal wave, the Naga. The chase. The venom. The nest.

He was still in it. He hadn’t managed to flee from the beast.

Before panic could rise, a low, affectionate voice cooed from above. The scent of blueberries returning.

“Aww… is my little lamb finally awake?”

The nickname sounded like a purr on the creature’s tongue, a teasing lullaby laced with something deeper…possessive…intimate.

Pure Vanilla tried to lift himself, but his body trembled, too weak. The venom still lingered, dulling his strength. Before his face could fall, strong fingers tilted his chin up, guiding his gaze to a face far too close.

Sharp teeth. Gleaming eyes. A wide, delighted smile.

Shadow Milk. The name of his so-called ‘mate’.

A blush flared across his cheeks, creeping down his neck. His thighs clenched around the tail unconsciously. No. No, he shouldn’t feel like this. He should be afraid, shouldn’t he? But instead, his heart fluttered.

“You must be feeling so hot, poor thing…want me to help?”

That voice thick like honey slithered through his thoughts. A playful coy tone makes him follow him deeper into this pit. Lost in the depraved nature forever entangled in his coils.

“...Please…” he breathed before he could stop himself as if the Naga was clawing the words from his throat.

“As you wish… my mate~”

Mate. The word slithered through his mind and coiled tightly around his thoughts. It shouldn’t sound so right, so comforting. It echoed in his ears like a soft hiss, one that soothed instead of frightened. “ Beloved” , his mind whispered back. 

“Wait….what?!”

He tore his face from Shadow Milk’s hand, holding his head in both palms, heart pounding. Why was he thinking like this? Why did it feel so good? He needed to cool down. He needed…

“Here let me help you.”

Shadow Milk’s tone dipped into mock sympathy, though his smile only widened. “Poor thing, too much venom, huh? Forgive me I’ll make it up to you”

Without warning, the Naga’s thick tail tightened around him, then shifted. The smooth, cool underside slid between Pure Vanilla’s trembling thighs, nudging them open, curling under him until he was fully cradled in the massive coil. The movement was fluid, like a refreshing flash of cool water on his scorching skin.

Shadow Milk guided Pure Vanilla’s head to his chest, humming softly as the healer gasped and twitched in his arms.

“There you go…feels nice and cool now, doesn’t it?”

His voice echoed in his mind turning his thoughts to mush stopping any form of concrete idea from forming determined to keep his prey nicely docile and content. 

“There, there… Go ahead. Rub up against it as much as you want~”

“Ah… ahh…”

The sounds left Pure Vanilla involuntarily. His overheated skin met blessed relief where it touched the serpent’s chilled scales. The cool friction, so gentle, so intoxicating made his hips jerk forward before he could stop himself.

But it wasn’t enough.

His body was needy, greedy for more, and his hips obeyed instinct, grinding down against the Naga’s tail, rubbing himself desperately against the texture. The roughness against the fabric of his boxers sent sparks up his spine.

“Hahaha~ look at you…”

Shadow Milk’s laughter was cruel and sweet all at once. “So pathetic and needy. Keep going. I’m enjoying the show. Grind against your mate.”

“Ahhh!”

Pure Vanilla bit his lip, his cock twitching painfully, pre already soaking the thin fabric of his underwear. His mind spun in shame and euphoria. If his party could see him now drooling, rutting like a dog against the monster he once feared they’d never believe it. He didn’t even believe it. Turned into a beast's submissive thing.

A pathetic mess.

“Yesss… so good for me~”

The hiss was right by his ear now. “You like being my little bitch, don’t you? Beg for it, ssslut.”

Suddenly, a clawed hand grabbed the front of his robe, yanking him upright and away from the delicious friction. He whimpered a genuinely, achingly whine. His hips twitched forward, seeking the tail again, but it had slipped just out of reach.

“W…why?” he gasped. “Please… don’t be so cruel… let me move…”

Shadow Milk chuckled, sharp and slow.

“Oh? Does the little lamb have a problem with how I do things?”

He leaned in, nose brushing Pure Vanilla’s ear.

“I’m sssorry, dear. You’re just so fun to tease. Those teary eyes… that flushed face…”

His voice dropped to a rumble, warm breath fanning over Vanilla’s skin.

“It’s just sssso hard to resist.”

"No... no... please... let me move... my body…it burns..."

The healer’s voice cracked, barely more than a breathy plea, his limbs twitching helplessly under the heat flooding his nerves.

“Oh, I know, dear.”

A cruel purr rolled from the beast’s throat. “Such a pathetic mess without your beloved mate, aren’t you?”

Clawed hands tore through delicate fabric like it was paper, ripping his boxers apart. Pure Vanilla’s cock sprang free, flushed and leaking, twitching needily against his belly. The sight made the serpent snicker, a low, delighted sound vibrating from his chest.

“Couldn’t even wait a minute, could you? How disgraceful,” the Naga taunted, voice dipped in mockery as he leaned in. “You really are pathetic… you know that, right?”

His forked tongue flicked out to taste the healer’s sweat-dampened skin, dragging languidly along the side of his neck. The beast pressed his body in closer, coiling around the helpless healer, letting the coolness of his scaled flesh trap Pure Vanilla fully. He rubbed his cheek and neck against every exposed inch of skin he could reach, smearing his scent possessively, deliberately.

“A truly worthless little dog…” he hissed into his ear, breath hot and thick.
“…But you’re mine.”

The words licked like fire across Pure Vanilla’s skin, followed by a trail of kisses, feverish, claiming, unrelenting. The Naga’s pace quickened, the scent he spread growing heavier, stronger, intoxicating.

“A needy little bitch to whimper and moan for me” he growled between kisses, teeth grazing the healer’s throat,

“desperate for even my scraps. And I’ll make you beg for less than that.”

The serpent’s tail coiled tighter, muscles flexing with purpose as it drew its trembling prize ever closer. Pure Vanilla gasped, his breath catching as his body was forced flush against the beast’s firm, scaled torso. There was no space left between them, only friction, heat, and that maddening pressure.

They began to move together, slowly at first, hips grinding in a torturously unhurried rhythm. Flesh against scale, leaking need slicking the Naga’s stomach, Pure Vanilla could barely hold back his cries. His cock throbbed, twitching with each subtle roll of the beast’s body, smearing precum against the ridged surface of the tail that held him tight.

A chorus of moans spilled out into the cavern, soft, sharp, breathless, desperate.

Yet even through the haze, their eyes never strayed. The healer’s wide, glossy gaze met the Naga’s, locked in a silent war of need and surrender. The possessive hunger in those slitted eyes made Pure Vanilla shiver.

And the beast only grinned, slowly licking his lips as the grip tightened further.

Between the haze of venom and the Naga’s coiling touch. All he knew now was heat and friction, his bare cock grinding against those rough, cool scales, slick with his own dripping arousal.

Each pass made his breath catch, every nerve lit up as he rutted helplessly, drunk on sensation. But then he felt it.

A dip. A divot.

Soft. Yielding. Warm in a way no scale should be.

He gasped, hips stuttering mid-grind as the head of his cock slipped right into the groove just barely but it hugged him like a perfect fit. Like it had been made for him.

“W-What is that?” he whispered, voice trembling, his thighs tensing as his cock throbbed right against the slit, drooling precum into the warm entrance. His body shivered at the sudden tight suction that met him in return.

Above him, Shadow Milk let out a low, sultry laugh.

“Ohhh~ you found it…”

His voice oozed with pride and heat, one hand brushing lovingly through the healer’s hair. “My clever little lamb… always so sensitive. That’s my slit, sweet thing.”

Pure Vanilla whimpered, hips twitching the way it pulsed around his tip, almost sucking him in, made his body arch with need. His legs kicked weakly in the coils, every inch of him flushed and needy. He could feel it, his tip being pulled inside slowly, the warm, tight passage milking him without him even thrusting.

“See how well you fit?” Shadow Milk whispered, his tail coiling higher, possessively, pulling him closer. “That little cock of yours is so desperate… poor thing, did I keep you waiting too long?”

Pure Vanilla moaned, his fingers clawing weakly at the serpent’s chest as he tried not to collapse. His breath hitched with every inch that disappeared into that slick, wet heat.

“You… ngh… you’re teasing me again…” he choked out.

Shadow Milk only smirked.

“Of course I am. Watching you squirm is my favorite thing.”

He leaned in close, lips brushing over his mate’s ear again, voice a low, sinful whisper.

“But I’ll let you have it this time, mate. Go ahead. Sink all the way in. Stuff yourself in deep and show me just how much my sweet little lamb needs his mate.”

It was soft, deceptively soft. The way the slit cradled his cock felt almost unreal, like being wrapped in a tight, wet sweater that pulsed around him with a greedy rhythm. It sucked at him, clinging to every inch, coaxing him, begging him to let go inside its molten warmth. The grip was tight in a way that made Pure Vanilla's legs shake and his thoughts scatter into static.

He was drooling now, lips parted in open-mouthed gasps, his breath trembling. That slick, gooey heat wrapped around his cock like a hungry mouth, the sensation coursing through his body in waves of unbearable pleasure. It was too much, too good he couldn’t hold back.

“That’s it, my beloved…” Shadow Milk whispered, his voice silken and wicked against his ear, “Just let go~ Give it to me.”

And Pure Vanilla broke.

“AhhAHHghhahh!”

He cried out, his body jerking as his orgasm ripped through him like a white-hot wave. Cum spilled into the slit in thick ropes, the channel milking every drop from him as it overflowed. His seed oozed from the edges, leaking out around his still-pulsing cock, some of it dripping messily to the cave floor below with soft, wet splats.

His entire body sagged, trembling and flushed, as the heat finally began to ease cooling just enough to leave him dazed and boneless. He lay there panting, his cock still snugly buried inside the Naga’s slit, now filled to the brim with his essence. It gripped him possessively, as though it didn’t want to let go.

“…Ah… ah…”

The healer whimpered softly, eyes fluttering half-shut in blissed-out exhaustion.

Above him, Shadow Milk licked his lips, eyes glowing with satisfied hunger. One clawed hand drifted downward, gently tracing circles just above where Pure Vanilla’s softening cock remained nestled in his special slit. 

“Mmm… this is only the beginning, my sweet,” he murmured.

With a slow, deliberate press, he rubbed against a small ridge in the scales until it parted.

A second slit opened. 

From the newly opened slit, two smooth, twitching appendages began to emerge, tentacle-like, glistening and slick, twitching as they tasted the air. They pulsed with anticipation, leaking with want as they unfurled toward the healer.

Shadow Milk grinned, his tone dropping to a purr of worship and hunger.

“This is all for you, my beloved mate…”

He leaned down, lips brushing against Pure Vanilla’s temple, reverent and possessive.

“Each one… made to hold you. To pleasure you. To claim you, again and again…” Clawed hands, careful yet possessive, curled around Pure Vanilla’s trembling waist. The Naga moved slowly, deliberately, as though savoring every second of their separation. With a soft, wet pull, his cock slipped free from the slit, still twitching, dripping thick ropes of cum that splattered onto the cave floor below.

The healer moaned softly at the loss, his overstimulated body shuddering as he was repositioned, gently laid down on the nest’s plush floor of moss and silk. His legs were soon parted by the firm press of the serpent’s tail, spreading him wide and helpless, baring his flushed entrance to the cool air. He whimpered, already clenching with anticipation, the sticky mess between his thighs glistening under the lantern light.

Shadow Milk loomed over him, eyes glowing with primal hunger as he settled in place, his appendages hovering just outside, twitching with barely-contained need.

“You’ll love this,” the Naga growled, breath heavy, voice trembling with possessive devotion.
“You’ll never want to live without it. You’ll carry my clutch with pride.”

The healer’s breath caught in his throat, and he gasped as the twin tendrils finally surged forward. They writhed, slick and eager, squirming against his slick rim until they found their way inside. With a lewd squelch, the tentacles buried themselves deep, stretching him open in an instant that made both of them moan.

“Ahhh!”  Pure Vanilla cried out, his back arching, fingers clutching at the soft moss as his body pulsed around the invading warmth. The tendrils curled and twisted inside him with greedy enthusiasm, writhing with joyous pressure.

Above him, Shadow Milk groaned, fangs bared as his coils tensed. The sensation of being joined again, deeper, tighter sent shivers down his spine. His breath hitched, sharp and heavy.

A thick, cloying scent filled the air. Blueberries. Sweet, overpowering, almost dizzying in its intensity. The healer panted through it, cheeks glowing red. The scent was intoxicating, an arousing pheromone that fogged the mind. Shadow Milk huffed above him like a dragon, thick puffs of visible breath billowing from his nose as his arousal saturated the cave.

“Mine…” he growled low, thrusting his hips into the air in rhythm with the tentacles’ movements. “Mine. All mine.”

Pure Vanilla’s eyes rolled back, legs trembling as the appendages pulsed deep inside him, hitting every weak spot, stretching him perfectly.

“Yes…yours… I’m yours… just move… please…”

His voice cracked on the last word, needy and vulnerable.

Shadow Milk leaned down, licking the sweat from his mate’s flushed neck, his voice a trembling whisper:

“As you wish, mate. Let me ruin you for anyone else.”

The Naga moved with a brutal, controlled rhythm slow at first, but deliberate, every thrust of his twin cocks stretching Pure Vanilla wider, deeper. The thick shafts pulsed and twitched inside him, alive with heat and slick tension. The inner walls of the healer’s body clenched around them instinctively, each movement met with a desperate cry.

Above him, Shadow Milk snarled through his fangs, his breath ragged with exertion and ecstasy. His heavy coils tightened around his trembling prey.

PLAP

“YOU'RE MINE.”

PLAP

“MY PREY.”

PLAP

“MINE TO DEVOUR AS I SEE FIT.”

PLAP

“MY MATE. MINE.”

Every slam of hips into hips echoed through the cavern, the wet sound obscene, unrelenting. With a feral screech, the beast lunged forward, fangs sinking into Pure Vanilla’s shoulder marking him, claiming him in every sense. Blood beaded under his skin, pain and pleasure fusing into a haze as his cry was muffled by the overwhelming fullness inside him.

The twin cocks were swelling now Pure Vanilla could feel them twitching wildly, thickening impossibly inside his stretched walls. Something was building, something deep and primal. 

He felt it.

A pressure. A roundness.
Something… moving.

“AAAHHHGGG!”

Pure Vanilla’s scream tore through the cavern as his back arched violently. His fingers dug into the Naga’s thick tail, gripping for dear life as a large, solid mass traveled down one of the twin cocks, pressing against his trembling entrance from within.

It stretched him wide as it pushed forward. The cock inside him throbbed hard, and the knot-like bulge finally pushed through with a wet pop, settling deep inside his body.

His breath hitched sharply, all the wind forced from his lungs. It felt like he’d been punched in the gut from the inside, his belly pulsing, tight, heat blooming outward as his body instinctively clenched around the invading shape.

The healer’s eyes rolled back.

His voice was gone. All he could do was moan and twitch, lips parted in breathless awe as his body adjusted, tried to accept what it had just been given.

Above him, Shadow Milk hissed, drunk on the act.

“There it is… yessss… take it. One down…”

His tail rubbed soothingly along Pure Vanilla’s side, even as his hips began to move again.

“I’m not done yet, little mate. You’ll take them all… and carry my clutch like you were born to.”

One after another, the eggs slid into him, each heavy plop sending a fresh wave of pressure deep inside. Pure Vanilla trembled beneath the Naga, his body stretched and trembling, barely able to process the sensation of being filled again and again. The soft, jelly-like ovals settled into his belly with ease, their warmth blooming inside him like embers buried beneath his skin.

He could feel it…the weight of each egg as his belly slowly rounded out, growing taut and full beneath the strain. His hands fluttered to it on instinct, fingers splaying across the firm swell.

Hours blurred together in a haze of slick, overstimulated ecstasy. The thrusts had grown lazier, slower, but no less intense. His body was sore, slick with sweat and fluids, the cave reeking of sex and a sweetness in the air, ripe blueberries, thick and dizzying.

Then, at last… it stopped.

The final thrust hit deep, a shudder ripping through the Naga as he threw his head back and roared:

“Mine… mine… MINE!”

A moment later, Pure Vanilla cried out as the second cock neglected for so long erupted inside him. Thick, molten seed surged forward in violent spurts, flooding the eggs he'd been stuffed with. The warmth spread fast, unbearably intense, as the cum coated the clutch, sealing the healers fate.

The sensation was too much.

The pressure. The heat. The weight.

Pure Vanilla could hardly breathe, his body twitching weakly. He gasped, eyes fluttering as the edge of consciousness danced around him, teasing and pulling him under.

His belly was swollen, heavy and slick, visibly round with the evidence of his mate’s conquest. And yet… he felt no fear. No shame. Only a strange, deep sense of satisfaction blooming in his chest, like this was always how it was meant to be.

“Ahh… ngh…”

A soft noise slipped from his lips as he sagged backward into the coiled nest, completely spent.

Shadow Milk purred softly, his large body curling protectively around his thoroughly bred mate. He nuzzled against Pure Vanilla’s damp hair, his voice low and possessive, like a sweet lover with fangs.

“Mine… my perfect mate… You took me so well…”

A long, slow hiss followed, warm breath ghosting along the healer’s flushed skin.

“Sleepy, my love… Rest now. You’ve done beautifully.”

Pure Vanilla blinked slowly, his vision dimming as exhaustion dragged him down like a tide. Instinctively, his arms wrapped around his bloated belly, cradling the fullness.

So warm…

Maybe just five minutes.

He curled in tighter, nuzzled against the powerful chest of the creature he once feared, and let his eyes fall closed.

Sleep came quickly.