Scruffy | Mute M!Werewolf x Fem!Reader
Genre: Romance, Fluff, Short story
Pairing: Christopher Van Helsing (mute m!werewolf tattoo artist) x fem!Reader
Warnings: Allusion to bad body image/low self-esteem, tooth-rotting domestic fluff, a sprinkle of an aroused wolf.
Summary: Confidence doesn’t come naturally to your mute tattooed boyfriend. Normally your presence and the ink on his skin is enough to prevent him from retreating into his own world, physically and mentally. However, on the morning after a strange night, he can’t muster even the tiniest sliver of it.
It is one thing to have him in your arms, worn and ragged like he’s been chased through the woods. But it is too much to bear to see him looking into the mirror with a forlorn expression as soon as he wakes up. Wanting to improve his mood and perhaps get some clarification about last night’s events, you decide to make this morning about nothing but love, care, and attention.
After all, who doesn’t like a scruffy wolf?
Author’s Note: As of writing this, this blog has 100+ followers! Thank you all so much for following me, who started this blog as a wee experiment and with low expectations. I am so delighted to see the interaction with and appreciation for my posts as well as my take on werewolves. ^^
Speaking of experiments, Christopher is one too. I have been meaning to expand and improve my writing skills by challenging myself, which apparently has led to exploring the psychology and life of a mute werewolf artist.
And let me tell you, Chris won me over the second he came into creation. I hope you will adore him as much as I do. I am not responsible for any emotional damage due to combusting into a ball of fluff, though!
Inspired by @exoxenoterato’s additions to my Werewolf 101 & this wolfish thought as well as this audio by the incredible Gael Force.
It’s a rare sight to see Chris unshaven. Each morning, he’d already be in the bathroom with a razor in his hands regardless of there being hair or not. From the moment I first stumbled across his first and only selfie on his Instagram profile until the moment I walked into Saga Ink for the tattoo on my thigh, I have never seen the slightest trace of beard grow or a moustache. Even as we slowly began to see each other more, developing our sweet coffee and drawing time together, has there been the tiniest hair above his full lips or on his jaw.
However, this morning is different.
It was a strange night overall. Although, it’s better to say it was a strange morning since the sun was brimming on the horizon when he stumbled into the bedroom, buck-naked and covered in sweat. I didn’t ask him what had gotten him in such a state, the sad joy in tired eyes and quicksilver smile flashing by over his pale expression betrayed he didn’t have the energy to sign or type out on his phone what happened.
One thing was clear, however. It’s a long story for later.
So, instead of laying it on the line with him, I beckoned him to bed. As he shuffled over, he grabbed his favourite shirt, a baggy grey sweater with a deep round neck, from the chair beside the closet and held it out to me. I gestured for him to sit down and helped him into it.
A low pained whimper escaped Chris when he tried to get comfortable, a sound that shattered my heart in a thousand pieces and hurt me more than the hardship he has to endure because of his muteness.
“Are you alright?” I asked, pulling the sheets over us. He had his head on my chest right where he’d be able to hear my heartbeat. Listening to it, as it turns out, is his personal melatonin and though he doesn’t admit it, he does get sulky when I deny the little pleasure to him. More often than not this is the case if he has the time to take a nap during work hours but I have a writing deadline or I send him to bed early after a long day of work and a meal.
He didn’t answer. With every short and sharp breath the tawny locks not yet matted by sweat trembled like the sprigs of a tree about to snap. Had he returned a second later from wherever he came from, I fear he would have collapsed.
I thought he’d sleep in, especially considering the state he was in. Nevertheless, I wake up to an empty side of the bed and the door left open a crack.
