#cherrytober

I drew Jevil that one morning when I saw him on the ground and he was so cold, clearly showing that he wasn't feeling well, I then hugged him all day to warm him up just like all the other times he warmed me up.

Gale would never forget the first time he caught her scent on the breeze.

Seraphil was locked in combat, focused on raining fire down on a group of goblins. One of them nearly blindsided her, their spear aimed to strike her hip. With the agility of a jungle cat, she spun, kicking the creature away before it could land the blow. In that quick breath, the wind shifted, and the unmistakable fragrance of lavender flooded his senses. Though he stood meters away, it was as if he were right beside her, face buried in her hair. A flash of pain jolted him back— his orb had cracked against his chest, nearly breaking his concentration as his mind drifted dangerously close to her.

Those days had been a waking nightmare. The orb’s relentless grip had caged his thoughts, keeping him from even the smallest fantasy of her, leaving his desires to fester and ache with every passing moment. It was the cruelest form of torment Gale had ever known— being so close, yet so utterly deprived. But now, with its power under his control, he was free from the orb's suppression. Free to indulge every thought, to savor every whim that had long been denied him. And he fully intended to do so.

The trek from the Shadow Cursed Lands to the Gate had stretched into its sixth long day, and as dusk settled over the camp, Gale still found it hard to believe— Seraphil was his. No longer were they separated by distant thoughts and longing; now, they shared a tent, a bed, their hearts and bodies. Earlier, she had laid her belongings at his feet with that graceful, quiet assurance he adored, before heading off to hunt with Halsin and Jaheira. Gale welcomed the task of setting up their tent. With a casual flick of his wrist and a quiet command, an Unseen Servant appeared, freeing him to focus on crafting a hearty meal that would warm the group’s spirits after another grueling day.

The fire crackled as grease snapped and hissed from the roasting meat by the time the druids returned. Halsin, still in his massive bear form, lumbered into the clearing, a buck draped over his shoulders. Behind him, Jaheira and Seraphil followed, their hands full with fish and a rabbit— a clear sign of a successful hunt. Out of the corner of his eye, Gale noticed Karlach and Lae'zel moving to help with the game, but his focus was unshakable. Sera set her catches down onto the butcher's table, then looked up, meeting his eyes across the dimming camp.

Seraphil's presence was usually a balm, her gaze filled with warmth and tenderness. But now, as she stood before him, the firelight turned her eyes into molten embers, burning with a predatory intensity that sent a chill to Gale's stomach. Blood streaked her lips, dripping down her throat and chest in dark rivulets. His heart lurched, his breath faltering as the primal urge to flee clawed at the edges of his mind. But then the wind turned, carrying her scent to him, and he was frozen in place.

Her scent hit him with a force, rich and overwhelming. The musk of her sweat mingled with the lavender oil in her hair, while the blood on her skin added a sharp, metallic note that sent his pulse racing. It was raw, wild, and impossibly seductive. From across the clearing, he saw her breathe him in, and a sudden thought seized him— could she sense him just as strongly? The answer came in the form of a feral smile, her lips curling as she stalked toward him with a predatory grace. Gale’s muscles coiled tight, his heart pounding in rhythm with the anxious heat pooling in his gut. His breath hitched, his cock straining with a need he couldn’t hold back as she closed the distance. He barely registered her barking out an order for someone else to finish dinner, every part of him focused on her presence as she reached him.

Though she was significantly shorter, Sera now loomed over him as he sat, radiating a commanding presence that sent a shiver down Gale's spine. Her fingers dug into his jaw, forcing him to look up into her piercing gaze. Her fingernails seemed sharper than he remembered, and he swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her intent settle over him. “I have slain a deer,” she declared with unyielding confidence, her voice stripped of its usual sweetness. “I require grooming from my mate. Are you ready?”

Gale barely managed a nod before Seraphil yanked him toward their tent, practically tossing him inside as she demanded he fetch her bathing supplies. His hands trembled as he rushed to gather what they needed: soap, hair oil, lotion, and a towel for them both. With the basket full, he stepped out of the tent, only for Sera to hook her arm through his, pulling him down the path toward the nearby creek. Once they were hidden from the others, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, biting into his pounding jugular as she lapped at his skin, smearing it with the deer blood in her mouth. Gale fought to maintain his balance, every nerve ending ignited by the sensations of her teeth trailing along him. It was a dizzying feeling that washed over him, intoxicating and raw, and he felt an overwhelming need to surrender to her wild abandon.

Every bit of Gale’s resolve was tested in order to reach the creek, and Seraphil showed no hesitation once they did. With a swift motion, she pushed him back into the water, her movements resembling a predator closing in on its prey. The chilly water clung to their skin, soaking their clothes and sending shivers through him as it crept up to their shoulders. Instinctively, he stepped back, but she followed with an assertive, stalking gait. Her laughter rang out as she revealed her blood-stained teeth to him, making him shudder with both thrill and terror. “Are you running from me?” she hissed, her fingers curling around his shirt collar, her intense gaze and firm grip holding him in place.

Gale found himself at a loss for how to act. He was usually the one in control, but Seraphil's commanding presence left him feeling uncertain. All he knew was that she wanted him to groom her, so he resolved to follow through. "No, my love," he replied, his voice betraying a shaky anxiety that surprised him. "I just want to help you get nice and clean. Let's take these clothes off." He reached out to begin, but Seraphil again took the lead. Without hesitation, she ripped her shirt off, the linen tearing with a sharp sound before she threw it carelessly to the shore. He didn't have much more than a heartbeat to appreciate the perfect swell of her breasts before she was pressing into him, tearing open his shirt as his buttons plopped into the water. Her hands landed on his pectorals once he was free of the garment, her fingernails digging into his chest, sending a jolt of searing heat through him.

"My mate," she growled, her voice dripping with wanton desire as she sank her teeth into the thick part of his breast, causing him to quiver and gasp. The combination of her words and the bite sent a thrill of excitement straight to his cock, reminding him of the barrier of their trousers. Hooking his fingers under her waistband, he tugged sharply, pulling her leggings and undergarments down in one swift motion, and tossed them to the shore. Seraphil mirrored his urgency, deftly unbuckling his belt and loosening the ties of his pants, her free hand wrapping around his hardness, stroking him beneath the water. Waves of pleasure coursed through him, drowning out everything but the heat of her touch and the intoxicating scent of lavender that enveloped him as the oil separated from her wet hair.

As her hand continued to lavish attention on his cock, Gale began to scrub at her bloodied neck and décolletage, her skin quickly transforming into a sudsy canvas of vanilla soap and red bubbles. Her eyes rolled back in bliss as he worked his nails into her skin in languid circles, her lips parting in a sigh of relaxation. "That's my good girl," he murmured in a deep tenor, his voice laced with warmth and affection. He shifted his focus to her hair, eager to ensure every bit of her was free of the day's remnants. "Can't have your pretty skin smelling of deer."

Sera's eyes snapped open, revealing the wildness that danced within them, her primal energy shining through. Her grip tightened around his manhood, a tug filled with hungry fervor that made him grit his teeth in pleasure and restraint. "Mate with me," she demanded, her voice low and throaty as she wrapped her legs around his hips, hoisting herself into his arms with an urgency that took his breath away. "I want to smell of you. I want your scent to cling to me, so everyone knows I am yours."

His hands instinctively found her plump ass, squeezing her soft tissue as his feet dug into the sand of the creek bed, grounding himself to hold her steady. Normally, he would overindulge her cunt with his mouth, teasing her until she came on his tongue, and stretch her open with his fingers to ensure she was ready for him. But this was clearly not the time to argue with her desires. He groaned as she angled her hips just right, the tip of his cock brushing through her soaking folds, making him twitch in anticipation. "Gods, Seraphil," he panted, fingers digging into her flesh while his lips found her neck, nipping gently at her skin. "You're so beautiful.”

“Must you always be so sweet?" she snarled, fisting her hand in his hair before slamming her lips against his with a hunger that left him breathless. Her tongue slipped recklessly against his, her teeth grazing his lower lip as she devoured him. There was a raw, untamed energy in the way she kissed him, in the way her body arched and aligned so perfectly with his. She sank down on his cock, taking him in a single, intoxicating stroke. Gale groaned into her mouth as her tight cunt fluttered around him, her walls spasming as he stretched her open. The sensation was overwhelming, her body pulling him in until he was buried to the hilt, and all he could think was how perfectly they fit together, like the Gods had crafted them to be one. Every pulse, every clench of her pussy wrapped him in a bliss so profound, it was as if time had stopped and only their bodies existed in that moment.

Gale hardly took a breath before Seraphil was bouncing on his length with an intensity that left him clinging to her for dear life. His fingers dug into the supple flesh of her ass, struggling to hold her as she moved like a wild animal against him. Her forehead slammed against his shoulder with each desperate buck of her hips, her breath coming out in harsh, ragged gasps that tickled his neck. Every bit of him burned with the heat of her body, the relentless rhythm sending shocks of pleasure through him. "Fuck yes," she growled, her voice breaking between panting breaths. "Give me that fucking cock.”

Gale's mind spun as Seraphil's rough command echoed in his mind. She wanted more than tender words; she wanted to be mated, claimed with primal intensity. But the way they stood now left him restrained, unable to take her as fiercely as she needed. His gaze swept across the moonlit surface of the creek, the silvery light catching on a flat rock jutting out near the shore. Perfect.

"Oh, I'll give it to you alright," Gale rasped, wrenching her from his cock and tossing her over his shoulder with a possessive grip. The feel of her squirming against him and biting at his back only fueled the fire burning in his gut. As he waded through the water, her sweet, intoxicating scent filled his lungs, and he couldn't resist. He thrust his fingers into her slick heat, curling them to stroke her tender spot within, his thumb pressing into her swollen bud with the same rhythm. Her keening moan shot through him, making his chest swell with pride. "That's it," he breathed, his voice low and rough. "You like that, don't you? Like to have your pussy spoiled?”

Sera nodded against him, her breath warm against his skin as he softly laid her onto the cool, smooth rock. With a slow, deliberate motion, he slid his fingers from her soaked cunt and brought them to his mouth, locking eyes with her as he licked them clean. Her stare burned into him, and he groaned low in his throat, savoring her honeyed taste. He then dipped down to capture her lips with a fierce kiss, his tongue urging hers to taste herself. She did so with a hungry eagerness, and her legs wrapped tightly around his hips, trying to draw him back into her. Gale pulled back with a teasing shake of his head, holding her hips in place as she squirmed beneath him. "Oh no," he tutted. "You said you wanted to be mated, remember? A ferocious beast like you needs something a bit more…special.”

With all the gentleness he could muster, Gale turned Seraphil onto her stomach, pulling her hips toward him with a swift, commanding tug that elicited a deep, throaty groan from her. It struck him that he had never taken her like this before, and he silently cursed himself for the missed opportunity. From this angle, she was a vision– her plump ass and voluptuous hips curving so perfectly into the small of her back. His breath caught as he guided her knees against the rock, his fingers sinking into her soft flesh with reverence. Slowly, he spread her apart, marveling at the sight of her glistening cunt. "Gods, look at you," he breathed, his thumb sliding through her wet folds. "So wet, so eager. Are you ready for this cock, my lovely little beast?”

“Fucking give it to me already,” Seraphil demanded, again taking him by surprise with her uncharacteristic gravely voice. 

Gale huffed out a laugh, his grip tightening on her ass as he guided the head of his cock to her waiting cunt. With agonizing slowness, he dragged his tip through her lips, swirling it lazily around her clit. Her sharp cry of need only made his grin widen. "Now, now," he scolded, his voice low and teasing as he gave her ass a soft, playful smack. She tried to buck back against him, but his fingers dug deeper into her flesh, holding her firmly in place. "Is that how we speak to our mate? Don't you think you should say please?" A spark of mischief flickered in his chest, surprising him. He hadn't expected to enjoy this side of himself so much, but the way she responded to his control– the way she seemed to crave it– was completely enthralling.

"Please," Seraphil hissed the word, her voice full of reluctant submission as her hips bucked back against him. Gale didn't stop her this time. Instead, he allowed just his tip to slip inside, his gaze locked on the place where their bodies joined. It was mesmerizing– the way her folds stretched to take him in, as if her body was devouring him. With painstaking slowness, he pushed deeper, a low groan rumbling from his chest as her heat gripped him tight. He took in a sharp inhale as he bottomed out, his entranced eyes still glued to the sight. He has to fight to keep control, staying perfectly still once his hips pressed flush against her soft, yielding curves.

"Gale, please," Sera whimpered, her voice trembling with need, pulling him back from the edge of his trance. His fingers were digging into her hips, hard enough to bruise, and she was writhing beneath him, trying to move. Guilt flooded him, and he quickly loosened his hold, one hand slipping around her leg to circle her clit, the other sliding up her back in soft, soothing strokes. His hips began to move, shallow thrusts at first, as he watched her melt into his touch. Her moans became more desperate, more needy. "Fuck me hard, deep," she gasped, and at that moment, the regret dissolved, replaced by the fierce need to give her everything she wanted.

Gale quickened his pace, the sound of their bodies meeting echoing through the night as he thrust deep, pulling back only to fill her again. His gaze locked onto their coupling, mesmerized by the way her pussy clung to him, her juices smearing over their thighs. He could sense her climax building, the telltale shivers that rippled through her body driving him wild, her moans transforming into desperate cries. "F-fuck," she gasped, her voice breaking, each breath in sync with his relentless rhythm. "Please. Gale. My hair. Pull it." 

Her plea sent a surge of primal dominance through Gale, electrifying his every nerve. He tangled his fingers tightly in her hair, pulling her head back until her neck was exposed, her face angled up to the stars. His other hand found her clit, stroking it between his fingers as her scream ripped through the air, her grip on the rock tightening. Each of his thrusts drew another shudder from her, her body yielding completely to him. Leaning in, he bit down on her shoulder, his lips grazing her ear as he growled, "Are you going to come for me, my little beast? Going to soak my cock with that sweet pussy?”

"Yes, yes," she panted, her eyes squeezing shut as her small frame trembled under the surge of pleasure. The sight made Gale's need burn hotter, her surrender feeding his own desire.

In an instant, he stilled. His hand moved from her hair to her shoulder, gripping her tightly as he froze his hips and stopped the motion of his fingers on her clit. Her body quivered at the sudden pause, leaving her teetering on the brink of euphoria. "Say please," he hissed, his breath hot against her ear as he dragged his tongue along the delicate point of her helix, smirking when it twitched wildly beneath him.

"Gale, please!" Sera cried out, her fingers digging into his forearm as she tried to force him back into motion. "Make me come! I need to. Please!"

A low growl escaped him, her plea shattering the last of his restraint. Overcome with need, he wrapped his arm around her chest, hauling her body tight against his. His fingers returned to her clit, flicking over the sensitive bud with ruthless precision. Sera's nails dug into his arm as her moans broke into frantic, breathless cries, her body trembling as he thrust into her harder, faster. "That's it, my beautiful beast," he rasped, his voice thick with desire. “Come for me. Make a mess for me." His muscles in his abdomen tightened as he held back his own release, knowing he’d be done for as soon as she peaked.

Seraphil's scent shifted the moment she came. What had been a needy, aroused perfume during their coupling transformed into something utterly divine, something Gale could lose himself in forever. As her body tensed and her juices splattered over his lap, her scream of his name sounded distant, eons away compared to the blood rushing through his ears. Her tight cunt clenched around his cock, pulling him deeper into her, and his arm instinctively tightened around her chest as his own release followed. A deep groan rumbled from his throat as he spilled inside her, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her neck. Coming with her was the most divine experience he’d ever had, the closest to heaven he’d ever been. As her shuddering slowed, so did his thrusts, his grip softening into a tender hold as she relaxed into his arms, their bodies still entangled in the afterglow.

He slipped out of her with care once their breathing and hearts started to calm, guiding them both back into the water. Kneeling in the soft riverbed, he caressed her skin with a gentle reverence, holding her close to him in a comforting embrace. Sera leaned back into his chest to meet his gaze. The predator’s fire in her eyes had vanished, replaced by the soft, angelic glow he knew so well. Her sparkling eyes lifted to his, a tender smile playing on her lips. “Thank you for indulging me,” she whispered, her fingers combing through his beard, her voice once again a melody of softness.

Heather has Astrid pinned to the forest floor with a knife she pulled from her person. She straddles her, both of their axes somewhere forgotten in the battle nearby.

They aren’t enemies, not really, but they had to pretend they were. Because Heather is undercover to gather information on the Dragon Hunters and they have to be careful. Doesn’t stop one woman from pinning down the other and straddling her, apparently.

Astrid stills, sweat sticking her bangs to her forehead as she looks up to the other, who brandishes a dagger she stole from her.

“All out of fight already, Astrid?” She asks, the blade glinting in tonight’s bright moonlight.

“Only because you’re such a lousy fighter, I got bored,” Astrid shoots back. The hostility in their banter is no pretend, it’s how they like it when things get tense.

Heather leans forward, a hand resting in the grass besides the other’s blond head, her braid becoming undone, and bringing the tip of her knife to Astrid’s lips. She presses it down, just shy of breaking skin.

“You want me to make things a little more exciting for you?”

Their fighting isn’t real and yet Astrid finds her heart pounding. She trusts her not to actually hurt her, but the tension is still there. The “what if” that she can’t quite ignore. Her hands move up Heather’s thighs, she squeezes them lightly.

Heather trails the tip of the knife down her chin, moving slowly across the skin of her throat. She watches Astrid swallow, watches her chest heave, captivating breasts hidden by clothing. Any one of these moves could be the wrong one, the one to end her life. Even so, she trusts her completely.

The cold blade of the knife crosses Astrid’s collarbone and passes the leather connection her pauldrons. It finds her top.

“Do you think Hiccup will mind if I strip his girlfriend?” She asks, causing Astrid to blush. She and Hiccup aren’t together, she wonders if he even likes her like that anymore, but still the thought of returning to him with her clothing in tatters sends chills up her spine.

Heather grabs the top of her clothing and she begins to cut, the blade sharp enough that it makes quick work of the fabric. Astrid gasps. The other smirks down at her and spreads the remaining flaps of her top open. “Freshly sharpened by him, too?”

Astrid swallows again as the blade dips below her bindings, resting on her sternum with the flat of it. “You want me to cut through these as well?”

She should say “no.” She should tell Heather that this is far enough, that someone other than the Dragon Riders could stumble upen them and Stormfly and Windshear are both busy. But she doesn’t and Heather innocently turns the blade and puts pressure on the bindings as she pulls upwards. Either they get cut or they get pulled out of place. Either way, those bindings will not hide her breasts from her. They give in.

Astrid gasps as the cold air wraps around her chest, nipples perked, and Heather grabs a handful.

“They are so nice and full,” she compliments her with a breath, the knife trailing a way down her unattended breast to then press the tip against a nipple.

“Where is this going, Heather?” Astrid asks, panting and trying to keep her sounds to herself even as the other woman gently squeezes her breast before rolling it around, massaging it before pulling on that nipple. How far can they go before they’re caught?

“To somewhere exciting. Isn’t that what you wanted?” Heather asks, the tip of the blade trailing further downwards. Meanwhile, she becomes aware of the skulls on the other woman’s dress and she settles on one with a smile, using it to grind her clothed pussy on.

Astrid can’t possibly feel that and she still makes a strangled noise.

She wants to go there, to that “somewhere exciting,” but it’s in conflict with the rational part of her, the part of her that’s listening to the sounds of battle in the distance and worries. For Hiccup, Toothless, Stormfly, for herself and Heather. They can’t keep going and they should both know this.

“Do you want my knife inside of you?” Heather asks. “The shaft , of course. I wouldn’t want to damage your pussy before I’ve had a taste.”

Astrid feels herself burning at that question. Heather leans forward again, still grinding herself on that skull decoration of Astrid’s skirt as her face hovers inches above hers.

“Do you?”