July 2026 +18 scene. (Patreon)

Series: Wild Beast Forest House.

Couple: Ragnar x Yule.

Canon?: Yes. It happens some time after the end of the series.

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Yule didn't like extreme temperatures, and the cold that particular winter was just that. It had snowed in the forest, turning everything to white as far as the eye could see, and he had chosen to take refuge under the enormous blanket that covered the bed he shared with Ragnar.

Ragnar.

Curled up in a ball and covered all the way to his head, Yule purred as he hugged the sheets that smelled like him. He loved that scent because, among many other things, it made him feel safe.

Ragnar.

Safe and happy. Happy and calm. Calm and…

An image from the night before flashed through his mind. Ragnar, completely naked on top of him, pinning his wrists to the mattress as he made love to him, and Yule could only lose himself in Ragnar’s golden eyes and the pleasure coursing through him from head to toe.

He shook off the image, cursing under his breath as he realized his body had reacted to the memory. He wanted to relive that moment even though not even twenty-four hours had passed, but he knew Ragnar was still on duty.

“Ragnar…” he whispered softly as his hand slid inside his own pants to relieve the growing desire between his legs. He felt guilty for touching himself that way in their bed, thinking of him… What would he say if he saw him? His pulse quickened just imagining it, and his ragged breathing began to turn into soft moans.

“Ragnar… Nh… Ragnar…”

Ragnar running his huge hands over his body.

“Nh… Ah…”

Ragnar with his head between his legs, devouring him eagerly.

“Ah… Ah…”

Ragnar coming inside him as he pushed him down onto the mattress.

“Ah…!”

After that last moan—louder than he’d expected—Yule felt a weight on the bed. Someone had sat down and rested a hand near where his head lay, still hidden under the blanket.

“You’re going to drive me crazy, Yule…”

Yule’s eyes widened, and he froze completely. Ragnar’s voice was unmistakable: soft, deep, and steady. When had he come into the room? How much had he heard?

Yule grabbed the blanket and curled up into an even tighter ball, trying to bury the shame he felt beneath the sheets. Ragnar tried to pull the blanket off him, but he resisted. If he looked him in the eyes now, he was sure he would die.

“What’s wrong? You haven’t done anything wrong,” Ragnar said gently, and even though he couldn’t see him, his voice betrayed a small smile.

“This is worse than when I was cleaning and fell asleep in your bed,” he confessed sheepishly, which made the wolf laugh. Ragnar’s laugh was beautiful. It was light and restrained, yet deeply sincere. Despite the awkward moment he was going through, Yule found comfort in hearing it.

“I think back on that day often,” Ragnar replied, and Yule noticed Ragnar sitting up, his back against the headboard. “I wasn’t aware of how I felt about you, but I did realize you were beautiful.”

Yule blushed and finally peeked his little ears out from under the edge of the blanket, still clinging to it as if it were a shield.

“How long have you been there? I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I came in as quietly as possible a little while ago because I thought you were sleeping, and then… Well, then I saw you were busy.”

Yule tried to slip back under the blanket, but this time Ragnar grabbed him and pulled him into a hug.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he said. “Just look at me…”

Yule looked down and noticed the more-than-obvious bulge in Ragnar’s pants. He blushed even more, biting his lip.

“Do you want me to…?” he asked, slowly moving his hand toward Ragnar’s pelvis.

“I want you to keep going,” Ragnar replied, grabbing his hand and guiding it back toward Yule. Yule looked into his eyes, which were fixed on him with a mixture of desire, shyness, and tenderness. He swallowed and felt a deep need to give him what he was asking for.

Slowly, Yule slipped his hand back into his own pants and began stroking himself again without taking his eyes off Ragnar, who was devouring him with his gaze. His heart was pounding so hard against his chest that he began to tremble as he pleasured himself on his knees on the bed, in front of the man to whom he would give his body and soul whenever he asked.

"Nh… Ah…"

"You're beautiful, Yule…" said Ragnar, caressing his cheek with one hand. His thumb moved toward Yule's mouth and traced his lower lip. Yule moaned, and Ragnar took advantage of the opening to slip his thumb inside and caress Yule's tongue. Yule opened his mouth wider to let Ragnar maneuver while his hand quickened the pace in search of relief.

Ragnar unbuttoned his own pants, freeing his erect member from the discomfort and pressure of the fabric. He gripped it firmly with one hand and, with the other, pulled Yule by the waist to sit him astride his thighs.

“Let me handle this—I’ll bring us both relief,” he said, his breath coming in short gasps. Yule unbuttoned his pants and let their members touch, sending a surge of pleasure coursing through him like electricity.

“Ragnar…”

Ragnar pressed his member against Yule’s and began to masturbate them both with more desire than gentleness. Yule rested his hands on Ragnar’s legs, letting himself go and arching his back with each new wave of pleasure.

“Ah… Ah… Ragnar…”

The strokes grew increasingly impatient, seeking an orgasm for both of them. The intensity of Ragnar’s gaze made Yule shudder.

“Yule… Yule… Nh…”

Ragnar’s voice during sex was almost like another caress on his most sensitive spot. It made him shudder and desire a thousand things: to touch him, to be touched by him, to come together and meld as if they were one until their bodies could take no more.

Yule squeezed his eyes shut and lifted his chin, arching his head back as he reached climax. Ragnar let out a growl, picking up the pace as his hand was lubricated by Yule’s warm semen. His own orgasm wasn’t long in coming, and his caresses became erratic—strong jerks he could barely control amid such muscular tension. Once again, the sound of his voice sent shivers down Yule’s spine. It was as if something had snapped inside Ragnar, revealing his most vulnerable side. A side that was accessible only to him.

They both stayed where they were, trying to catch their breath, until Ragnar pulled Yule close, wrapping his arms around him. Yule let himself be cradled against Ragnar’s chest and continued to take long, deep breaths.

"We should do it like this more often," Ragnar said, kissing his hair, and Yule smiled, his forehead resting against his neck. "Aren't you cold anymore?"

Yule shook his head, feeling Ragnar's warmth enveloping him.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but…" Ragnar cleared his throat. "You can touch yourself while thinking of me as often as you want. Or you can call me if doing it alone isn’t enough."

Yule felt his cheeks burn and was grateful to have his face hidden against Ragnar’s chest. He nodded, not knowing what else to say, and Ragnar brushed his nose against Yule’s hair.

“…Next time I want to watch you do it,” Yule whispered, blushing slightly. Ragnar’s heart skipped such a hard beat that Yule could feel it against his cheek. Ragnar swallowed audibly before nodding.

“You’re so…” the wolf said, and the last word turned into a silent smile. “I love you, Yule.”

Yule closed his eyes, feeling the embrace tighten around his weary body. He purred, so comfortable that he could have fallen asleep.

“I love you too.”

Warm as a bonfire, like a summer night. That was what it was like to love and be loved by Ragnar.

THE END.