AN: Written for comment_fic on livejournal for the prompt: Willow/Oz, Red Riding Hood
Sometimes with Oz, she feels like Little Red Riding Hood. Like the world of sex and boys and everything else is a forest, and it's beautiful, it really is, but the trees are so tall and the path is so long, and she really has no idea where she is going. But she smiles and acts like everything is fine, like the Big Bad Wolf is just a friendly face on a long path.
Of course she knows Oz isn't the Big Bad, even if he is, technically, a wolf. And even if he is nice one day, all teeth the next.
But it's never come naturally to her, being timid. And even though she knows that part of her may be the scared young girl in the big dark woods, but she knows that somewhere inside, she is also the woodswoman. She is the one that can stand up to the real big bads, at least as well as he can. Much better, most nights.
It is only when they are alone, when they are exploring something new, something Willow wishes she weren't afraid to ask her friends about, wishes she weren't too embarrassed to search for online, that she feels like the girl in the woods.
But in their bed, she knows Oz isn't the wolf.
He's the basket she clings tight to, the red cape she drapes over herself for her protection. He is what stays with her, never faster than she can walk, as she finds her footing. As she learns to grow comfortable walking this path.
She likes this about him. That she can be all these things - the girl with fearful step, the woman who remembers to bring an axe - and he loves her more for it.
Sometimes, as she is feeling her way into the woods, she feels like the wolf. Predatory. Hungry for something raw.
He likes this about her, too. He likes her teeth.