Monster Mania: Lascivious Wishes Entry No. 2 Werewolf x Plus Size F!Reader Word Count: 3,403
CW: Mentions of Body Image and Toxic Family Previous part CW: Non-Con Elements, Dubcon, Primal, Breeding, Violence, Mentions of Body Image and Toxic Family
When you awaken, the moon is long gone and the sun is beaming down at you through a canopy of bare-branched trees. Your body, sore, abused, and throbbing, screams its protests at the sudden onset of consciousness. You struggle to remember what happened, or where you are, but the moment you sit up and feel the pleasant burning between your thighs it all comes crashing back at once.
The wolf. The moon. The failed hunt. The things you did, the-
Your stomach rumbles before you can finish the thought, a much more immediate problem coming to the forefront of your mind instead. The hunt failed, but you still have to eat, no matter what your parents say when they're frustrated with you.
Taking in your surroundings comes first. Your clothes are completely ruined, but you manage to shrug the remains of your underdress on around you and tie it at the waist with a strip of cloth from the shreds of your dress. Every inch of your body is tired and sore, but you can't help the smile that crosses your lips at the memory of what you did to earn the burn in your muscles. The wolf is nowhere to be found.
If you're quick, you'll be able to slip out before he returns.
You gather the things you can find and sling them over your back. It'll be a hard walk back to the village, but hopefully the river is nearby and you can get your bearings. You can figure out how to explain the state of your outfit when you return.
The moment you've got everything in your arms, heavy footsteps sound behind you. "You're awake?"
You jump, turning around as you drop half the things in your arms to hear the low timbre of a man's voice caressing your ears. There's no wolf in front of you, but the flash in his eyes is awfully familiar.
"I-yes, I was just-"
"Leaving?" He says warily, raising an eyebrow. He's pretty damn tall, at least six feet, maybe more. Swarthy skin with a generous dusting of hair stands out in the dim light, and he's wearing a pair of trousers slung low enough on his hips for you to follow the trail of hair down to where they're tied with a cord. Brunette waves cascade down to his shoulders, highlighting the strange, silver glow in his eyes as he looks you up and down. He's not even trying to hide the way his eyes linger on your hips and chest, dragging accross your body like a languid cat stretching in the sun before they come back to meet your eyes with a sheepish smile. "…Do you want to eat before you go?"
"What?" You say sharply, pausing in your frantic attempt to gather everything up from the ground. "…What do you mean?"
"Eat. Food." He pulls a bag of his own to the front, opening it to show you a stash of berries gleaming purple under the sun, and a fresh fish wrapped in leaves that looks like it was only just killed. "You've got to be hungry."
Your stomach growls, answering for you before you can say a word.
"…Alright. Let's eat." You put down your bag and dust off your makeshift dress, hoping your hair doesn't look as tangled as it feels.
"Rest, little one." His voice drops an octave, eyes softening in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. "Something tells me you haven't been taken care of the way you should be."
"I can take care of myself," you say reflexively, though your stomach rumbles again.
The wolf-man doesn't reply, and instead busies himself with making a fire. Before too long there's a crackling blaze merrily popping in the clearing, smoke pluming towards the sky. You'd normally worry about being tracked by other hunters hungry enough to steal the kill, but with him here it seems that you've little to be concerned about.
Your cheeks flush with the memory of the night before as he hands you a nicely cooked fish, cleaned of its bones and with a wooden bowl of berries. There's no way to pretend that you aren't starving so you tuck in until there's nothing left but berry juice and a few stray scales.
When was the last time you ate until you were full? You can't remember.
"Do you need more?" The man says, his voice booming between you.
"No, no. I'm fine." You exhale, willing yourself to let the food settle in your stomach before you get sick. "…It's been a hard winter."
"Then you are not being taken care of." He brushes a piece of hair out of his eyes, seeming certain. "I will care for you, then."
"That's okay," you say with a furrowed brow. "I can-"
"We are mates." He raises his own eyebrow at you. "You will carry my young. It's my sacred duty to care for you."
"We're what?" You say, almost choking on your own spit.
"Mates." He says it like it's a fact, shrugging his shoulders. "You took my knot."
Your cheeks burn red, and you look at your hands. "I didn't realize it was a binding contract."
"…Do you not wish to be mated to me?" he says, his voice showing traces of surprise. "You smelled ready."
You pause at that statement, turning it over in your head. Being mates with a werewolf is out of the question, isn't it? This is the Wild, but your parents were so sure that the monsters of the world would kill and eat you without hesitation. And yet, you can't deny that the idea isn't as frightening as it probably should be.
"…Do you…kill people?" You ask slowly, turning your eyes onto his.
He shrugs, seemingly unbothered by your question. "When I need to. If you're asking about whether or not I eat them, my answer is the same."
You turn that answer over in your head, brow furrowing. In a world like this one, even regular humans have to fight for survival. Winter feels like it's unending in the Goodlands, and the Wild is so dangerous that no one will cross the border even if it seems that the hunting and foraging is better. No one until you, apparently. You sigh, folding your knees under your chin. It's still cold out, and your clothes are too torn to do much to keep you warm. The wolf-man's eyes snap to you the moment you shiver, his brow furrowing as he stands up rather suddenly. He moves too quickly for you to ask what he's doing before he wraps you up in his arms, drawing your body close to his bare chest. You squeak in spite of yourself, and then melt against him when you feel how comfortably warm his skin is beneath the generous dusting of dark chest hair.
"I will not eat you," he says, his voice lilting with…amusement?
You sit up a little to meet his eyes, a smile dancing at the corner of your mouth. "You already did."
The wolf-man throws his head back and laughs, the rumbling sound of it shaking both of you as you giggle at your own joke. Something about being with him here, in the woods…it feels natural. Right, even. Do you really want to go back to your village, to a too-small hut where both of your parents will mock you for your faliure to hunt and to find a husband?
A moment of silence passes between you, and you look up a him again. "…I can't live in the woods, you know."
He looks down at you, his eyes soft. They really are silver, like the moon. The sight makes your heart skip a beat. "I have been preparing for you. Perhaps you'd like to see the house I built for you, little one?"
"For me?" You sit up straight, hands going to his bare chest to balance as you try to process that. A house? Materials are scarce as it is, and with a seemingly eternal winter it can't have been easy.
"I have been preparing for my mate for some time." He seems reluctant to let you go, and leaves his hands resting on your waist. "…But I understand humans have…trouble…being around creatures like me." He sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly.
"…Can I see it?" You blurt out, eyes going wide at your own boldness.
The wolf tenses slightly, and you wonder if it's from worry or anticipation. He exhales behind you, and then gently strokes down your side with one of his big hands. You shiver slightly, goosebumps prickling up on your skin as he rumbles his answer back at you. "Of course. It's some distance from here, but there are plenty of places to rest. I ask that you tell me when you're tired, little one. Can you do that?" You nod, and he stands up abruptly, pulling you to your feet with him in one smooth motion. "…You'll show me the way back, won't you?"
He sighs, but nods as he extinguishes the fire with practiced motions and some of the frigid dirt surrounding it. "I will take you wherever you wish to go, even if it's away from me."
A pang lances through your heart as you nod, tightening the makeshift tie of your dress nervously. He has no reason to lie to you, but the pitter-patter of excitement in your heart as you walk frightens you more than it should. Every step you take feels like one closer to a point of no return, and further away from everything you've ever known. Only time will tell if that's a good or a bad thing, you suppose.
Your footsteps fade from the clearing as the two of you begin your walk, the remenants of your camp and the aching in your muscles the only evidence of what happened here between the two of you.
Time passes, and night falls before too long. You've spent most of the day walking, and pausing only when absolutely necesarry. You're a long way away from the village now, and nothing about these woods feels familiar to you. Strangely, it feels like the further from the border you get, the warmer the weather feels.
You're determined to make it to the house he spoke of in one trip, but just when you feel like your aching legs are going to give out, the wolf-man stops you with one hand in the air.
"We will rest here for the night," he says quietly, eyes dragging over you. You can't hide the heaviness of your breath, or the burning in your body from the long walk after such a strenuous night. "You are tired."
"I can keep going," you say increduously, adjusting your bow across your chest.
"Yes," he says, shrugging. "You can. But why should we? There is no rush, and you are tired."
"…I really don't mind," you say, but your shoulders are already slumping, and there's a light tremor in your knees as you speak. He huffs, and shakes his head in disapproval.
"You have nothing to prove to me, little one." The wolf man suddenly leans down, scooping you into his arms as though you weighed nothing. You yelp in spite of yourself at the sensation of being in the air, but then he's walking up ahead with a purpose you find yourself admiring. "I will carry you to my camp."
It's not much further before he ducks under a few trees, carefully holding them out of the way so that nothing hits you as he moves through the brush into a clearing shining in the dim light of the waning moon. You look up at it, and then back at him before realizing the last of the full moon was yesterday. Disappointment and relief flood your heart all at once, and you don't care to examine either emotion, so you examine your surroundings instead.
Supplies, carefully organized in crates and bags, are stacked under a rocky outcropping near a trickling creek that babbles merrily in the background. Frost still lines some of the trees, but a number of bushes with fruit on them dot either side of the creek.
The wolf-man puts you down like you're made of glass on a rock beneath the natural shelter, brushing a piece of hair out of your face before he turns towards the firepit. You barely have time to take your gear off of your back before he's built another fire, filling the rocky lean-to with warmth and a cozy orange glow. A bedroll is spread out next to it in practiced motions, surprisingly cushy-looking from where you're sitting.
"I guess you're here often," you say curiously, looking around as he digs through a bag with a small smile.
"Often enough. It's good to have a resting place when I need to hunt further from home." He produces a large shirt from one of the bags, and offers it to you with one hand. "I will replace your things when we return to the house, but this might be better for now."
"…Thank you." You reach for it, but he gestures to a pot that he's put on the fire that simmers slightly with a comforting sound.
"I will wash you," he says quietly. "If you allow me to."
You blush immediately, but you have to admit that rinsing off with warm water sounds…lovely. Has anyone washed your body for you since you were small?
Hesitantly, and with no small amount of blush, you incline your head slightly. "…Yes. Okay." With a swallow, you look at him, and then back at yourself. "…What do I do?"
"Come here," he says firmly, and you obey, legs still burning from overuse as you cross the dirt floor with bare feet.
He takes the tie you used to secure your clothes, and pulls it out with one hand. Your torn articles fall to the floor at your feet, leaving you quite bare before him again and blushing like a sunrise.
"Don't worry. You need to recover, pretty human." He smirks at you as he throws something that smells floral into the bucket of simmering water. "I will not take you again until you've rested."
Disappointment claws at your stomach but you nod at him, still blushing and bare as a new bride. He dips a cloth into the pot he's pulled off the fire, slyly eying you as he does. Your breath hitches in your chest as he drops the pair of trousers he's wearing to the ground, leaving his body as bare as yours is. It's just as mouthwateringly beautiful as his transformed visage was the night before, illuminated with golden firelight that flickers shadows across every divot of his muscles and the length of his cock, which twitches a little as your eyes rest on it.
The wolf man takes your hand and pulls gently, sending you stumbling into his arms as he takes you into his lap like it's the easiest thing in the world.
He adjusts you gently until your sitting across him, one arm bracing your back as he dips his nose towards your shoulder, inhaling your scent with a heated breath in. You shiver again as he leans forward, dipping a cloth into the steaming bucket of foaming water and squeezing gently. The smell is lovely, filling the shelter with lavender and something else that makes your eyes close comfortably just as he raises the cloth to your shoulder and gently squeezes the hot water over it.
You let out a breathy moan as he begins to wash you, the warmth from the water and the softness of his washcloth melting away the aches, pains, and tension of the day. He's tender with every motion, gently circling your shoulders and back as he moves along your body with practiced motions. Your blood heats as he crosses the peaks of your breasts, teasing your nipples with a smirk before he moves to your legs, gently lifting them in his hands and massaging the places that hurt the most.
Desperate to fight the building heat in your core, you turn your chin up towards him with a sharp inhale as his washcloth crosses your thighs.
"What's your name?" you ask, blinking as you take in the dark stubble that peppers his jaw.
He pauses in place, his washcloth resting warmly on your knee.
"…Cole."
"Cole?" You say, testing it in your mouth with a smile. It's second nature to melt against him, relaxed in his lap like it's the most natural thing in the world. He has a name, and somehow it makes him feel more real than every before.
You talk quietly together as he washes you, sharing names and favorite foods and little things that you don't think you've said to anyone, let alone a monster. He agonizingly avoids touching you the way you want it most, his focus remaining firmly fixed on kneading out every sore spot and washing the dirt off of you thoroughly.
When he's satisfied with how clean you are, he strokes a piece of hair out of your face and smiles at you, a softness in his gaze as his eyes gently rake over your bare body with a reverence that's completely alien to you.
"You're so soft." You flush a little, suddenly nervous about having yourself on display in front of him like this. As if he senses you tensing up, he strokes one finger down your spine. You gasp, and he gently turns your chin back towards him. "It is a compliment, sweet one. You are radiant in the moonlight, and I would look at you if you'll let me."
You nod wordlessly, closing your eyes as you feel his gaze sweep over you like a summer rainstorm. After years of pointed remarks and being ignored, it feels…good, to have someone so determined to see every part of you.
When you open your eyes again, he's rummaging in a bag with one hand, using the other to balance you firmly on his lap. "I have clothes for you, at least for now. I'll find more when we get home." He presses a shirt into your hands, overlarge and surprisingly soft. "I keep this in case of emergencies, while I'm out and about. Not everyone appreciates the natural state of people like I do."
You take the shirt with a laugh and turn away from his shining eyes, even if covering up now feels a little silly. The shirt comes down to your mid-thigh, but it's comfortable enough and cleaner than your torn half-dress. Cole pulls on a pair of pants and ties them up, but leaves his shirt off as you rake your fingers through your hair in a poor attempt to detangle it. His muscular chest gleams in the firelight, which makes the heated memory of his hands washing your body feel all the more enticing as he gestures for you to come to the bedroll he's sitting on.
Stars dot the sky above you both, and he wraps an arm around you easily. The fire crackles as he pushes some dried rations into your hands, and you eat together in oddly comfortable silence. The stone reflects the heat of the fire at your back, and even if it's not a proper house, you're warmer than you've been in some time at his side.
The exhaustion of the day prickles behind your eyes as you yawn, your head coming to rest firmly on his shoulder.
"Sleep, my moon." You feel his lips press to the top of your head and the butterflies in your stomach flutter violently. "I will watch over you."
The last thing you remember is the strong hands of your wolf-man tucking you into the bedroll with him, pressed together like two puzzle pieces. The aches and pains and worries of the day all vanish, and you feel utterly and completely safe.
You want more of this feeling like air in your lungs, even while unconscious and tangled into a knot of limbs with Cole. Dimly, in the most secret part of your heart, you wonder if you were meant to find him all along.
The moon gleams silver overhead, as if to assure you that you're exactly where you're supposed to be.
