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forbidden fruit 3

Once upon a time there was a princess and a hunter...

snow white!reader x hunter!rafe

c/w: slight angst, him being annoying, smut (sex pollen & dry humping) 18+ mdni!

wc: 4.1k

THE LAST PART IS FINALLY HERE (let’s ignore the fact that it’s been a whole year okay) this is dedicated to the lovely @nemesyaaa + all the sweet anons who asked about this story ily <3

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

He’s all broad shoulders and rugged edges and she’s merely a girl with a heart too big and no survival instincts. And she’s currently locked in a cage with a predator, except there’s no cage and she’s here willingly—stuck to his warm form like strawberry jam on a piece of fresh bread.

How did she end up here again?

She remembers being wet and cold and this scary man saving her. But he’d also tried to take her life from her, crush it under his boot like it meant nothing. But he hadn’t. And for some reason that means something to her, something she can’t quite grasp; like a butterfly flapping its tantalizing wings around her, making her believe it might rest upon her stretched-out fingertips but it never does.

His arms feel protective around her, a false sense of security wrapping around her thundering heart because she’s never been this close to a man before—especially a man like him.

Cedar and soil. That’s what he smells like and she lets out a frustrated huff because she doesn’t entirely hate it, and with her thoughts all muddled up she’s uncertain what she’s supposed to think of anything anymore.

“You awake?” Rafe’s chest vibrates against her back in tandem with the low rumble of his voice.

“I thought you were still sleeping,” she rushes out because the unexpected sound startles her and he’s still holding onto her, despite there being no need.

“M’not.” his answer is clipped, exasperation coiling around it.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” she frowns.

“Didn’t really feel like listenin’ to you whine about bein’ tired cause I disturbed your beauty sleep,” he mutters before he’s moving away from her, the imprint of his heated body lingering. His tone confuses her, however. She doesn’t understand why he sounds so angry all of a sudden.

“Are you…okay?” she turns to look at him already standing tall on his feet while pulling on a fresh shirt.

“Am I okay? Tha’s what you’re fuckin’ askin’ me right now?” he snaps and the agitated oceans of his eyes flicker to meet her own, making her pause. “Everythin’ about this is fucked. You’re ruinin’ my plans ‘n I’m sick of lookin’ at your perfect fucking face. Do you know how much money I could make if I sold you? There’s probably a bounty on your head that’s worth more than I’ll ever make and it pisses me off that you keep looking at me like I’m some night in shinin’ armor when m’not. I’m a bad man, Snow, ‘n you shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m sorry,” her voice is a quiet whisper, barely audible over her thundering heartbeat and the rustling of sheets when she sits up in his bed. She refuses to meet his heated gaze though, because she can already feel her eyes beginning to burn, embarrassment clawing at her insides because she is not going to cry right now.

“Yeah, I know you are,” he lets out an irritated sigh and she chews on her lower lip while she considers his words.

“Are you saying you want me to leave?” her question sounds panicked because that’s how she feels right now; utterly terrified of her only hope giving up on her.

“Yeah, cause you shouldn’t be here.”

“But you said–”

“I know what I said but I’ve had some time to think ‘n I don’t need you on top of all my other problems, okay?”

“But I don’t–I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without you,” she swallows thickly.

“Listen, m’gonna take you to this village outside the kingdom where a few of my friends live ‘n then s’best for the both of us if we part ways,” he leaves no space for objection and she’s forced to nod her agreement, even if the fear of being left all alone begins to gnaw at her bones.

“They’re a lot nicer than me, okay? You’ll be fine,” he stares at her for a moment, seemingly expecting her to say something in response. However, when she merely blinks back the tears from earlier and makes a move to get out of bed as well, he scratches at the back of his head and looks out the window. “Good. Now that that’s settled, we don’t really have time to waste, so get ready ‘n we’ll leave as soon as possible, okay?”

She hums as she gathers her dress from the floor, contemplating whether she should wear something to cover up the expensive silk only royalty could afford. “Do you think I could borrow a shirt from you?” her question is soft, scared of upsetting him once more.

“Yeah, take whatever you want,” he mutters before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him, leaving. Just like he will in a few days.

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

Heavy droplets cling to her hair and the trip on foot to the unknown destination feels eternal—especially when it’s raining as heavily as it is right now. Her shoes are soaked through and the cloak Rafe gave her only does so much to keep the raindrops from saturating her clothes underneath it.

He claimed there was a small village close by where they could rest and buy some food. However, her understanding of the phrase ‘close by’ appears to differ from his drastically. Of course, it would’ve taken a lot less time if they had a horse but unfortunately, both her and Rafe’s horses are still happily eating carrots and whatnot back at the palace.

They only exchange a few words during their journey, mostly because she suddenly finds herself nervous around him and because (she learned this very quickly) he’s the kind of man who doesn’t speak unless spoken to.

On the first day, she found out that Rafe doesn’t like to rest either; her attempt at politely suggesting they sit down on a tree trunk for a little bit after hours of persistent walking was met with an exasperated ‘stop complaining’ and only when nightfall was quickly approaching and her feet ached painfully with each step, did he agree to settle down for a freezing night under the twinkling stars and inky sky.

That’s why the small village they finally stumble upon after two whole days of hiking in the pouring rain and gloomy forest feels like a reward from the heavens themselves. It’s bustling with numerous stands selling different assortments of food, clothing and other necessities. There are children running around and merchants occupied trying to earn money with their produce at a fair that seems to be taking place here, and she’s not sure if she’s ever been anywhere with this many people before.

“Just, uh, try to blend in, yeah?” Rafe murmurs as he tugs the hood of her cloak over her head, adjusting it so it covers her as much as possible. “And give me your hand,” he orders next before gripping her smaller palm in his own, dragging her into the ocean of lively villagers laughing and chatting all around them.

“Would the lovely pair fancy some magical bread?” a peculiar looking vendor asks when they pass a sign that says POTIONS, SPELLS & ENCHANTED GOODS.

“What does it do?” she asks, child-like fascination cracking through the surface upon reading it.

“Well, my dear, it works differently for everyone since it enhances one’s deepest desires,” the old lady whispers the last word, her crooked front teeth visible as she offers her an impish grin.

“Really?” curiosity gets the best of her, as always.

“Yeah, right,” Rafe scoffs upon noticing their interaction. ”Bet it doesn’t do shit, s’just normal bread she’s tryna sell for a higher price.”

“Rafe, you’re causing a scene,” she quietly scolds him, nervously looking around.

However, the lady doesn’t seem all that troubled, a challenging gleam in her pale eyes as she turns her attention towards him. “I’ll give a special discount for the man in doubt…only four coins for you,” she proposes.

“We don’t want your fuckin’ bread, alright?” he huffs out, already turning around, but the princess hanging off his arm refuses to follow.

“What?” his exasperated eyes flit over to her in question.

“The other ones cost twice as much and we’re already running low on money,” she tries to reason. “I mean, how bad can it be?”

He contemplates it for a moment, before looking over to the elderly woman once more. “Shit, alright, we’ll take it…but m’not payin’ any more than three,” he mutters out, snatching the loaf of bread with a roll of his eyes before tugging her along with him towards another stand.

They begin to stroll around the fair some more, purchasing more food for their journey when commotion suddenly breaks out a bit further down the street. However, she’s far too distracted by the glint of a diamond necklace to notice anything out of the ordinary, flinching when Rafe is suddenly yanking her behind another market stall. Her back presses against his hard chest when he tugs her against him, and she doesn’t even have the chance to open her mouth before he’s pasting the hollow of his hand over her mouth.

“Shut up,” he breathes into her ear, his whisper nearly inaudible as he nods towards a few of the queen’s soldiers walking through the crowd, clearly searching for someone.

Her heart hammers violently in her chest, her labored breathing warming the skin of Rafe’s palm as they stand there, unmoving until the men in question are merely a few feet away from them. She can see their armors and swords glinting through the gaps in the boards that make up the wall of the vegetable stand they’re hiding behind.

“Hey! You there, turn around!” the angry shout makes her gasp against Rafe’s hand and the fingers of his other one dig into her waist painfully. However, when the soldier stalks up to a girl around the same height and age as her and turns her to face him, she thanks her lucky stars.

“That’s not her you idiot, keep searching!” another voice barks in an irritated tone, causing her to grow rigid against Rafe. The hunter behind her merely pulls her closer, his calculating gaze bouncing from one soldier to the next and forming a plan in his head for their escape.

Once the immediate threat has passed, Rafe leads her along the narrow road between the stands and the fence lining the entire perimeter of the village—hurrying her along towards the stables housing a few horses happily munching on some hay.

He quickly looks over his shoulder to make sure the coast is clear before shoving her inside hard enough to make her stumble over her feet. She nearly lands on the muddy floor before the same hand that pushed her steadies her once more.

“We have to get out of here,” he mutters with his eyes glued to the horses behind her.

“How? If we steal a horse they’re going to see us,” she says worriedly.

“No they’re not, c’mon.” he prompts while offering one of the bigger horses a bright red apple, which it instantly takes and nearly swallows whole, nudging its muzzle against his arm in a silent request for more.

“Oh, she’s so sweet! Can I feed her too?” her eyes round out, looking at the creature with pure adoration.

“The fuck are talkin’ about? We don’t have time for this,” Rafe shakes his head with an irritated huff while looking around for a saddle.

“You’re right, sorry. But is she even gonna let us ride her?”

“Only one way to find out,” he replies, already climbing onto the horse’s back and beckoning her to follow.

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

The world is a blur when her eyes finally open with her lids heavy and a dull ache in her skull; a pounding that only seems to grow stronger the longer she blinks. Her brows draw together when the murky room she’s in materializes in front of her and she realizes she’s in some sort of a dungeon.

It’s not like the ones located under the palace though. No, those are different. This one appears to be a lot smaller, surrounded by thick stone walls with only one tiny window allowing sunlight to pour over the small space she finds herself in, and she briefly wonders whether it’s still the same day or the next. What on earth happened?

Her eyes settle on Rafe, who sits on the floor and leans against the wall further away from her, his position much like hers. Although for some reason, his hands aren’t bound with the thick rope that scratches the inner skin of her wrists in an uncomfortable way. She’s about to ask him why, when she notices something else that’s quite uncomfortable; a throbbing ache between her thighs, which confuses her to no end because this is not the time nor place to be feeling like this.

The stone is cold against her back but her skin is entirely too warm—a fire inside her that isn’t willing to die until she does something about it. She decides to ignore it though, letting out a relieved breath upon seeing him because now she at least has some sort of a chance to get out of this place.

His eyes are closed, however, and for a moment she hesitates; eyes gliding down his features like raindrops against glass. There’s a crease between his brows and his chest rises and falls rapidly, making her wonder whether he’s having a nightmare or merely deep in some troubling memory. Nonetheless, she ends up calling his name in a soft whisper, scared to speak any louder in this strange place they’ve found themselves in.

His eyes snap open and his heated gaze settles on her in the next second, making her breath hitch because the heady look he’s giving her forces the discomfort between her thighs to grow tenfold. It’s painful now, nearly all consuming as she tries to force her thoughts away from it but it seems like the more she tries to fight it, the stronger it becomes. It’s a starving thing, tickling at her guts and itching for a release that she’s unable to give with her hands bound.

“Told you we shouldn’t have trusted that old hag.” it’s the first thing that comes out of his mouth and she flinches at the sudden sound of his deep voice.

“What are you talking about? Why are we here?” she manages out, confused to no end because the urge to rub her thighs together to create some semblance of friction is overwhelming, muddling up her thoughts until there’s only one left.

“The bread.” he grumbles, an exasperated hue coloring the word and she pauses, forcing her brain to focus on her memories from before she passed out—vaguely recalling the village, the strange old woman, them running low on money, her being hungry…the bread.

She remembers them filling their grumbling bellies with it (because it merely tasted of flour and salt, so it must have been fine) and then deciding to settle down for some much needed rest in an outlying area of the forest they’d found themselves in. The verdant canopy of the trees and the greenery of the bushes provided them shelter, tucking them away from the rest of the world and she remembers feeling so calm and safe, finding it impossible to stop herself from closing her eyes for a moment.

But that moment had apparently turned into a few hours, and they’d fallen into a slumber so deep they hadn’t noticed someone capturing them and locking them here.

“Oh.” she manages out but when he merely shifts uncomfortably on the floor before adjusting his pants, she can’t help but let her eyes drop to his crotch, noticing she’s not the only one who feels like this. And at that thought something stirs inside her, dragging her towards him with an invisible string until she’s forced to crawl closer to him on her knees—the damp, dirty stone floor scraping against her skin from where her dress has slid up.

The bite of the small cuts burn, but not enough to halt her movements as she scrambles towards him until there’s merely an inch between them, her ragged breathing heavy and uneven. “Rafe,” she practically moans his name because it hurts so much she feels like she’s going to die. “I feel like…do you…” she stumbles over her words, feeling dizzy to no end while pressing her thighs together as an attempt to alleviate the tingly ache there.

And without thinking, she leans closer to his face and presses her lips against his mouth in a clumsy kiss that makes her heart race. His rough stubble scratches her skin, making her let out a pathetic sound because even that feels so incredibly good she doesn’t know what to do with herself. With her hands still bound, she’s forced to lean against his firm body for balance which makes her feel all sorts of desperate since he doesn’t even respond to her lips moving against his, merely sits there and lets her make a fool of herself.

And then he’s pulling away from her altogether.

“The fuck are you doin’?” he snaps and embarrassment burns its way through her limbs.

“I…m’sorry I don’t know why I—I just—“

And for a moment, he just stares; an obscene glint in the pools of water that make his eyes. The moment feels everlasting, imbued by this miserable need that only seems to increase with each passing second until he lets out a huff through his nose, the edges of his mouth tilting.

“You jus’...what? Hurts that bad?” he pouts with furrowed brows but his eyes lack the empathy she oh so craves.

“Rafe…”

“What? You’re the one who wanted to buy food from that witch, so deal with the fuckin’ consequences,” he scoffs, although the frustrated movement of his hips tells her they’re both dealing with the consequences.

“Shit,” he mutters before he’s stuffing a hand into his pants, a lewd groan escaping his throat when he seems to find some semblance of relief. And she has no choice but to sit there and stare, mouth growing as dry as a desert when the back of his head hits the stone wall he’s leaning against.

“Why are your hands not bound?” she asks when she finally manages to gather some sort of discipline, unable to look at him any longer without the need to burst, which is why she opts for examining the dirty floor instead.

“Cause the shithead that locked us here doesn’t know how to tie a proper knot tha’s why,” he answers through a groan. “And before you ask, no, the door wasn’t as easy to open.”

She lets out a sigh, noticing the idle piece of rope not that far from where he’s sitting and letting out those noises destined to drive her mad.

“Can you open mine?” she asks hopefully, lifting her gaze to him once more—immediately regretting it because the view of him touching himself in front of her is far worse than the sounds he’s making. Or maybe the sounds are worse. No. It’s definitely seeing his hand moving inside his pants while those shameless eyes of his remain glued to her.

“So you could touch yourself?” he lets out a patronizing laugh. “Nah, I don’t think so. You’re the reason we’re here in the first place, remember? You’re not gettin’ off that easy.”

“Rafe…please, m’sorry,” she resorts to begging because he’s being mean and she doesn’t understand why he likes to see her suffer so much.

But he merely shakes his head, a cruel smile on his lips that makes her let out a disgruntled growl, the insides of her wrists stinging from the harsh rope as she tries to free herself, albeit to no avail. And before her brain has the chance to grasp onto what she’s doing, she’s climbing onto his lap, her entire body restless and frustrated while she pants—the solid hardness of him so tempting she can’t help but move against him.

“Fuck, what’re you doin’?” Rafe gasps, his hands seeming to have a mind of their own when they settle on her hips, pressing her against his dick harder, rougher. And then his frantic fingers are fumbling with his belt and unbuttoning his pants so all that’s left between their heated cores is the cotton fabric of their underwear.

“Oh my god, that feels so—Rafe I think I’m…” she trails off, losing that train of thought because it feels so good to rub herself against him she can’t think straight.

“Oh yeah? Gonna come on me, Snow?” his eyes are hooded while his fingers slip underneath the skirt of her dress, digging into the skin of her thighs in an attempt to pull her closer.

Snow. The last time he called her that, he was yelling at her but now the nickname holds something much more tender, something desperate.

She blabbers out incoherent nonsense in response, her head dropping to lean against his chest when he begins to meet her rushed movements, rutting against her more aggressively, his cock twitching and throbbing, begging to be released but he ignores it in favor of dragging her sticky cunt over it again and again until both of them are nearing their highs.

“If you’re gonna come, you’re gonna look at me, okay?” he orders, forcing her to face him with his fingers holding onto her jaw.

Her intoxicated eyes snap up to meet his own and when they do, she pauses, her limbs twitching and shaking when she finally lets go of all the pent up energy bouncing inside her, soaking her panties and letting out satiated whimpers.

“There you go, let me feel it—let me feel how wet you get,” he grunts, the dampness against his dick pushing him over the edge too, making him let out a breathy moan against her open mouth, their lips grazing each other but never fully touching.

And then she feels it, his sticky cum wetting their undergarments even further and pulling another orgasm from her because she’s unable to hold it back when he’s rutting against her so desperately.

“Shit,” his voice is breathless and raw, making her feel all hot for him once again when out of the blue, the door swings open and both of their heads snap towards the man that steps inside.

She hurriedly scrambles away from Rafe, cheeks burning and feeling all sorts of mushy while he straightens up and sizes the man up with a glare, annoyed by the interruption.

To her surprise though, the guy doesn’t resemble a tall and scary assassin whatsoever, instead he’s a rather normal looking man with a short beard the same color as his auburn hair. If she has to guess, she’d say he’s in his late thirties, judging by the faint frown lines on his face. Upon further investigation, the look in his jade eyes almost makes it seem like he’s scared of them. Or more specifically Rafe because she finds it hard to believe anyone would be scared of her.

“Don’t move!” his voice holds a slight tremble, the rusty sword in his hand shaking.

“Or what? If you wanted to kill us you would’ve done it already.” Rafe grumbles with his hands behind his back.

“I’m going to bring you to her majesty and she will reward me.” the man answers with his head held high, feigning confidence.

“Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try,” Rafe scoffs.

And in the next second, when the man takes a step towards her, Rafe punches him. Hard. The loud thump from his body hitting the ground echoing around the hollow space and making her flinch.

“Oh. Well that was quick,” she blinks, eyeing the unconscious stranger warily, ensuring he won’t wake up any time soon.

“Want me to teach you how to do that?” he smirks at her in amusement, seemingly unbothered by the fact that they’re still very much in a dirty dungeon and not even two minutes ago all over each other. Not to mention he has yet to button up his pants.

“Um..shouldn’t we get out of here first?”

“Your wish is my command, your highness,” he jokes, extending his arm towards her.

However, when she attempts to take it, she realizes her hands are still tied. “Very funny,” she glares at him when the edges of his mouth tilt.

“Alright, fine, c’mere I’ll help you,” he promises, offering her a grin that makes her pause because she’s almost certain this is the first time he’s given her a genuine smile. And she thinks it suits him.

…and they lived happily ever after (or maybe he ditched her & they never saw each other again, who knows?)

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