Male scarred werewolf x female reader (sfw) - Part One (Patreon)

Help. I have fallen down a hole marked 'I love this new boy so much' and I can't get out. That's fine. Come and join me. 

Oh, and this is definitely a Part One. I'll put this one up on Tumblr soon I think. 

Anyway, meet Rhett, my newest werewoof, and his pack of adopted doggos. 

_____________

Every Thursday, you bought yourself a bunch of flowers. Every. Single. Thursday. 

It had all begun one blustery autumn afternoon, after you’d had the worst first week imaginable at a new job, in a new town, and you’d walked past this little flower shop on your way to the bus stop, and a little bunch of flowers had caught your eye. Ever since that first journey back to your run-down house that still needed so much doing to it, you’d spent a little bit of your salary each week on a bunch of flowers to put in an old, cracked, rusty oil can that served as your flower vase (washed out of course), and it brightened your day every time you came back and saw them. 

Valentine’s Day just happened to fall on a Thursday this year, and you knew you were either going to look like you were buying yourself flowers because no one else had - nothing wrong with that, you told yourself - or that you had a date - which you definitely did not. “Ah, screw it,” you muttered as you left work and glimpsed a rather toxic pink looking window-display in the card shop across the road. 

Grimacing slightly at the sight of all the glittery pink balloons and hearts, you turned away from commercial Valentine’s hell and strode along the street. It was actually a nice day for once. The early morning fog had burned off and the strengthening sun turned the forget-me-not blue sky deep and endless. The branches of the trees were just beginning to show the first buds of spring, and although frost still lingered in the deeper patches of shade, it was warm enough that you actually took your jacket off and slung it over one arm as you walked. 

Right next to the flower shop, you had to pass a garage and workshop, owned by an orc and her half-orc partner, and as you passed, you couldn’t help but look for the familiar and hulking shape of a werewolf who worked there. Impractically, perhaps for him, his coat was a snowy grey, and he nearly always had smudges of engine oil all over it. He took his human form so rarely that you actually couldn't remember if you’d seen him as anything other than a seven foot tall wolf, but it didn't matter. He was gorgeous, with blazing amber eyes, and a big old set of four scars that gashed across his face from one tattered left ear, over his eyes, and down to his muzzle. He must have been in a real scrap to get carved up like that, but you couldn’t help the way your insides flip-flopped around at the sight of him. Your spine would straighten and your shoulders roll back a little more as you walked past him, in the hopes of catching his eye.

That day, he was just straightening up after pushing himself up off the rolling board of the mechanic’s creeper, and as he did so, he caught sight of you, and cracked his head on the underbelly of the car on the lift beside him. With a barely stifled grunt, he turned away and rubbed furiously at it, heading for the garage’s office with his thick, fluffy tail between his legs. 

That looked like it’d hurt, and you felt for him and the lump he’d be sporting in a minute or two. 

Outside the florist’s, the owner was fixing a beautiful display stand of roses and lilacs, lilies and gardenias. You knew him well by now, and as he glanced up and saw you, his handsome face split into a broad grin, and he waved. “Hi! Ooh, hang on, wait there, don’t move! Just… wait there.”

“What?” you blurted, but the dryad had turned into a shower of cherry blossom petals and swept into his shop before you could react. “Ok then,” you snickered to yourself, turning and shoving your hands into your pockets to wait awkwardly outside the florist’s. 

As you moved, you saw the silvery grey werewolf had emerged again, and was you from the depths of the garage, and you flashed him a quick smile. You’d often smiled at him as you’d passed, but all he’d done was blink or look away. This time, his tail wagged softly just once, and his lips twitched on one side into a shy, wolfy smile. You wondered idly if he had anyone to go home to today, anyone to buy him flowers, or buy flowers for; anyone to treat him, or to treat. With scars like that, he certainly looked like he could use a little sweetness now, whatever had caused them. 

A tap on your shoulder drew your attention away from him, and you turned back to see Maro standing before you, with a colossal bunch of flowers in his arms. “So,” he said, peering around the lobelias and gardenias, his curly, pale pink hair blending almost seamlessly with the bouquet. “This is for you!”

“Wait, what?” you asked, not taking the flowers from him. 

He laughed, a sound like a tinkling spring stream, and his already quite narrow eyes closed into a perfect little curved line of pure happiness. When he opened them, they were flaring a lovely bright pink, and the apples of his pale cheeks were flushed too with merriment. “This is too much fun. You have no idea who bought them for you, do you?”

“No,” you said, staring at the gorgeous flowers. “Who…?”

“Ah-ah-ah!” he said, waggling a taunting finger before returning it to steady the teetering bunch. They looked enormously heavy, and his slender body was struggling to hold them. “I promised I wouldn’t tell.”

“But… I don’t know anyone who… who would…?”

“Please,” he scoffed, running his pink eyes up and down your figure. “Also take these now,” he chirped. “They’re heavy.” Then he thrust them at you so that you had to take them before he risked dropping them on the pavement. “You buy flowers here religiously every Thursday. You’re so predictable. I knew he was into you, but I had no idea he’d go this overboard. Gah! It’s hilarious. I wish I could tell you, but I promised, and a spirit never breaks their word.”

You pouted at him over a particularly blousy petal, but he refused. 

“You’ll have to guess.”

“Is there a card with it?” He shook his head and you rolled your eyes. “How the hell am I supposed to guess then! Can you give me a clue?” 

Maro turned thoughtful, scrunching his pretty lips up and jutting his hips out to one side. He licked his lips and then said cautiously, “Put it this way, I’m glad I gave them to you. If he’d done it, they might be a bit… a bit less pristine?” 

You raised an eyebrow and looked back at the flowers. “What, is he like a slime or something?” 

Maro barked a laugh that rang off the buildings on your side of the street and even sent a small flock of birds wheeling from a tree overhead. “No,” he said. “No, no slime. Kind of the opposite of slime?”

“The opposite of slime? Slime has an opposite? What the hell, Maro! Just tell me…”

He shook his curly head, grinning. “Nope. I promised.”

“And there’s no message at all?”

“Ah!” he said with melodrama befitting a pantomime performer and raising a finger again. “Ah, now she thinks to ask.”

“You told me there was no note,” you grumped, but he only giggled. 

“No written note, but he did say to tell you that he’s seen you buying flowers here, and your smile lights up his day every time, though he regrets not showing you how much of an effect your gesture has on him.”

You turned thoughtful at that, brows pinching. You lowered your nose to the delicate flowers and inhaled softly. “Someone who’s gruff, who sees me everyday and never reacts…” your eyes went wide and you whipped around to find the werewolf from the garage still staring at you from the shadows. “Is it…?”

“Yyyup,” Maro grinned. “And now I take my leave,” he said with a Puck-like bow. “But before I go, give him a chance. He’s a total sweetie despite the face… He was so awkward in my shop, I nearly gave him a box of chocolates, but then I remembered that woofers can’t have chocolate, and I stupidly don’t carry theobromine free chocs yet… I’m working on it though. Anyway, I’m off. Go see your Romeo, sweetheart,” he laughed, vanishing into a puff of petals again and leaving you standing there sporting the largest and heaviest bunch of flowers you’d ever beheld in your entire life.

You peered around them and saw him standing stock still, spine rigid, tail tucked between his huge hind legs, and, in a show of courage you wouldn’t normally expect from yourself, you began to walk towards him with a smile on your face. 

As you approached, he dropped from standing on his hind feet to all fours, and then he sat down, curling his thick tail around his legs. “These are from you?” you asked, cursing the way your voice cracked a little. He was much more intimidating up close, mostly because of his sheer size. 

He nodded, and you wondered if he could even speak while in his wolf form. You knew some werewolves preferred not to, while others simply couldn’t get their tongues and teeth around human speech. 

“Thank you, they’re beautiful,” you said, feeling awkward now. 

He swallowed, and looked away before letting his arresting eyes flick back up to your face. “I’m sorry if they’re too much,” he said in a harsh, deep, gritty voice. “I mean… We’ve never even spoken…”

“We’re speaking now,” you smiled, and his ears slanted back in relief, his tail twitching just once. 

A shout across the small, oil-stained forecourt made you both jump, and a strangely beautiful looking half-orc, half-tiefling stepped out and barked, “Rhett? Did you finish -? Oh.”

And with that, their eyes lit up, and Rhett, the werewolf in front of you, began to growl a warning, hackles raised. 

Biting their lips into a hard, thin line and trying so very hard not to laugh, the newcomer sidled back into the office and closed the door behind them. A moment later a chorus of three separate laughs sailed out and Rhett let out a pained whine. “I knew this was a shitty idea,” he snarled, rising and pacing away. 

“Wait!” you called. “It wasn’t! I love them.”

He paused, looking back over his shoulder, still on all fours. Honestly, despite his size, he looked like a kicked puppy. “You don’t have to let me down gently. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

“I can see that,” you said earnestly. An idea crossed your mind and you toyed with it before just blurting it out. “Has anyone ever taken care of you for a change?”

His eyes went wide at that and then he sneered, “Why, you want to pet the big bad wolf? Please. Just go. Forget I ever made such a fool of myself.”

Tears sprang to your eyes and you just stood there as he padded away. You scowled back at the office and saw three chagrined and horrified faces staring out at you from the window, and you flashed them a snarl of your own. Taking one of the gardenias carefully from the bunch, you laid it down on the garage forecourt, and then turned and left, heading for the bus and then for home.

You put the flowers in their little oil can vase on the table and sighed. At least most of the foliage hid the ugly red label. Unable to get that hurt expression of his out of your memory, you showered and changed into something more practical and comfy than your work clothes, and raced back out of the house, heading into town again. The garage was closed when you got there, but the half-orc half-tiefling you’d seen earlier was just locking up. Taking a breath for courage, you marched over and came to a halt beside them. 

“I need to find Rhett,” you said without preamble. 

They jumped and whipped around to look at you. “Oh shit,” they murmured. “Look, I’m sorry. We fucked up earlier. Rhett… Rhett’s a good guy but… he’s… you know…” They scratched their ear, just below the curving horn that arched along the top of their head and flicked up a little at the point. You fixed them with an uncompromising look, and they crumbled. “Look, he comes to work, doesn’t speak to any of us, then goes home at the end of the day. He fixes cars and bikes like no one I’ve ever met, which is why we keep him around, but I don’t keep him around for his manners or his chatty personality, you know what I’m saying? Do yourself a favour and just leave it there.”

“No.”

The owner of the garage blinked at you. 

“No, I don’t think that’s fair. Someone bares their heart for me, takes a risk, and you rubbish the gesture? Stamp all over it and spit on it by laughing at him? No. I need to find him.”

“I don’t know where he goes after work,” they snipped. “And I’m not giving you his address.”

Your nostrils flared as you fought off a wave of indignation, but at that moment, Maro caught your eye and waved at you, beckoning you over. 

“You’re a heartless piece of work,” you snarled at the half-orc, and they actually looked surprised. Good. 

Maro ushered you into his fragrant shop and shut the door quickly behind you, clearly not wanting to get into a spat with the neighbours, but equally wanting to help. “What’s going on?”

You rolled your eyes and told him what had happened earlier, and he bit his lip. “Look, I can’t technically tell you where Rhett lives, but I might just sort of happen to know…”

“How?”

“I pass his place on my way home. I’ve seen him a few times, but it’s… not in a nice part of town.”

You sighed and plonked down into a chair behind the counter. 

Maro offered you a half-full box of truffles, and you snaffled a couple before looking up at him with doleful eyes. “What am I going to do? He got ridiculed for the sweetest gesture anyone’s ever given me, and then he shut me out when I tried to thank him.”

“He was probably just embarrassed,” Maro said, putting his warm hand on your shoulder. “Look, why don’t you pretend to come back to my place, and we’ll walk through his neighbourhood together. If he’s… I dunno, putting his trash out or something as you go past, you’ll know it’s meant to be…”

“Maro, the universe doesn’t work like that…” you said flatly, licking the remaining cocoa dust off your fingers. 

“Fuck it. It does tonight. Come on.”

So Maro marched you through the streets until you came to a part of town you’d never ventured into. A gang of gnolls trotted across the street ahead of you, yipping and yowling playfully, but Maro seemed undeterred. It occurred to you that he lived in a pretty nasty part of town for someone with such a successful business, and you’d just begun to ask him, when he turned and smiled at you. “My cherry tree has been here since before this town even existed,” he said. “I’m not going to sacrifice her to some housing development, and besides, the kids in this area really like the blossoms in spring, so…”

“Maro, you’re just too pure. Come on,” you said. “I don’t want to lose my nerve.”

Maro drew to a halt a little while later outside a nondescript, single story house with a six foot, chain link fence around the dusty front yard, and a ‘beware of the dog’ sign on the gates. A light shone from inside, but there was no movement. 

“Is… Is that…?” you asked, wondering if this was such a good idea after all. You knew Maro quite well from your frequent chats once a week, but he was a spirit after all, and they could be tricksy… 

He nodded, looking perhaps a touch sad. Then he opened his palm and blew softly into it, creating a little breeze that ruffled the grass and weeds in the yard before slipping in through the open front window. 

“What…?”

“Just wait,” he smiled. 

A moment later, a dog started barking inside, and another minute or so later, the door opened and a three-legged pit bull came belting round the side of the house, shortly followed by a scraggy looking mutt that looked more like an oven scourer than a dog, and finally, a rangy, long-legged, black and tan saluki. 

“Maro, what did you do?” you asked warily.

“Wait for it…” the dryad said without taking his pale pink gaze from the house. 

A door slammed, and a moment later, a human figure slouched around the corner of the house and came to a dead halt in the centre of the patchy lawn, staring straight at you with bright yellow eyes. 

“Uh… hi?” you cringed. This was such a bad idea. But shit, if he wasn’t gorgeous in human form too, if a lot more slender than you’d imagined he might be, given the muscles on his wolf body.

One of the dogs, the little oven scourer thing, was scrabbling at the gate and you knelt down instinctively to say hello to it. It was honest-to-god the ugliest bugger you’d ever seen in your whole life, but it didn’t seem to care. It just wanted to greet you. You held your hand out towards it, on your side of the fence just in case it was nippy or nervous, and it snuffed at you, waggling its little grotty stump of a tail. To be fair, the dog was in brilliant condition. It was just utterly unfortunate looking. 

The saluki remained aloof, regarding you with cool wariness from beside Rhett, and the three legged pit bull was boinging around, oscillating from saying hello to you and alerting its master that someone was at the gate who needed to be greeted. 

Rhett, meanwhile was just standing there. He wore pale, scruffy jeans and a light grey sweater with a hole in the side.

Deciding to give him a moment to work out if he wanted to send you away or come and talk to you, you stuck your fingers through the wide hole in the chain fence and let the little dog nuzzle your hand. “Hey there,” you giggled as it shimmied again in ecstasy. “What’s your name?” 

“Hovis,” Rhett supplied quietly, stepping closer. You tried not to look up at him, but you had seen that he carried the same horrific scarring on his face in this form as he did in his lupine form. His hair was white - not blond, but actually white - and he had it tied up in a scruffy bun at the nape of his neck, a few sections dripping forwards into his amazing eyes. 

You laughed at the name of the ugly terrier. “Like the loaf of bread!” you giggled, and Rhett grunted something in assent. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked a few seconds later, and you straightened to make it a little easier to talk to him.

“It was Maro’s -” you broke off as you looked around and found no sign of the cheeky dryad whatsoever. You rolled your eyes. “Maro’s idea,” you finished flatly. 

“The guy who owns the flower shop?” he asked, keeping his head down and turned slightly away from you to try and hide the scars a bit. 

“Yeah. I went back to the garage earlier, but your boss wouldn’t tell me where you lived. They’re also a massive jerk by the way…”

“Nah, they’re not really,” Rhett countered gruffly. “They’re… yeah. Anyway. I’m sorry you went to so much trouble.” 

A loud gnollish laugh ripped the silence of the street in half, and all the dogs froze. The pit bull started growling, but Rhett only sighed. “You should leave, or come in.”

“I don’t want to impose, but… I’d rather not stay out here longer than I have to…” you said hopefully. 

He jerked his head over his shoulder and turned away towards the house. All the dogs followed without him giving any kind of command that you could see, but little Hovis paused and looked back, yipping at you as if to tell you off for not following quickly enough. 

“Come,” Rhett growled, and the little dog scurried after him. 

In human form, Rhett was tall and lean, and not particularly muscular. In his werewolf form, he had thick legs and broad shoulders, but as a human he was tall, but kind of… ordinary. Except for the hair and the eyes. And the scars. There was no escaping them, no matter how much he tried to lessen their impact for you. 

“You want a drink or anything?” he asked awkwardly as you stepped in through the back door into his kitchen. His home was sparsely furnished, and through the open door you could see a sitting room with an old chair facing the TV, and a saggy couch, for which the saluki and Hovis had made an immediate beeline and curled up together. The pit bull was still in the kitchen, having hung around with you and Rhett after you’d stepped in through the back door. You dropped to a crouch and fussed her ears. 

“A beer?” you suggested, and Rhett sagged with visible relief and crossed to the old fridge to draw a couple out.

He cracked the top off it for you and offered one to you, his warm hand leaving a dark print on the condensation at the neck of the bottle. He had big hands, with scarred knuckles. 

“Thank you,” you smiled. “Listen, I know we don’t know each other, and perhaps this is totally crazy, I don’t know, but when Maro told me what you’d said, what your message was with the flowers, I… I just thought that was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

You glanced up at him and saw that his yellow eyes were shining as he leaned his weight against the countertop hands braced by his hips. He let out a sigh and shook his head softly. “I don’t know what came over me,” he said, a slight smile at the corner of his pale mouth. The other was twisted slightly by the scarring and he made sure to turn away again. 

“I wish you’d left me a note…” you said. “It might have made things easier.”

He scowled and looked away then. 

“But I’m happy you left a message with Maro at least?” you added in a rush.

“I can’t read or write,” he admitted hesitatingly a moment later. “I never learned.”

“Oh.” You blinked at him and then smiled. “I can see why there was no note then!”

“You must think I’m just some stupid animal…” he hissed through clenched teeth. 

“No,” you said fiercely. “No. That’s not a marker of intelligence! Heck, your boss said you fix cars better than anyone they’ve ever met! I don’t know the first thing about any of that.” You snorted and gave the pit bull’s ears one last scratch and added, “My house is falling down around me and I don’t know the first thing about repairing it!”

He paused and then said, “I could help you with that if you like?”

“I… I’d love that, but… I can’t pay you…”

Rhett scowled. “I wasn’t asking.”

“Ok,” you said quickly. “Then… yeah. I’d love that. Thank you.”

He smiled shyly and turned his gaze fondly back down to the pit bull at your feet, and you looked at him for a moment. Rhett’s profile was particularly beautiful, with a straight nose and a slight smile playing around his lips still. But it was that hair that was so striking. 

You stood and crossed to him. You looked at him and he shrank visibly under your gaze. “You have the most amazing hair,” you said, “And eyes. I noticed you the very first time I passed the garage on my way home from the worst day I’d ever had.”

Rhett softened, and looked like he might cry as he choked, “And still you smiled at me.” 

You shrugged. “You looked like someone worth smiling at, I guess.”

His resolve cracked, and he let his head hang down, grimacing as emotions swirled through him that he clearly had no idea how to handle. It pained you to see him like that, arms now crossed over his chest, fighting against whatever he was feeling. The pit bull whined too. 

Tentatively, you reached for his bicep, and ran your hand over him. He shivered and a tiny whimper escaped him. You could sense instantly that he was completely touch starved. You traced the contours of his arm and shoulder, working up to his neck and the right side of his face, the un-scarred side. You cupped his head in your hand, having to go a little up onto tiptoes to do it, and stroked his white hair back from his face. His resolve crumbled a little more and he let out another gasp. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Those flowers are so beautiful. No one has ever bought me flowers. I’m so glad they came from you.”

He looked at you then, surprise widening his amber eyes, and then he lowered his gaze to the floor and muttered, “You deserve so much more than flowers.”

“Let’s take it slowly first, shall we?” you grinned, stepping back and picking up your beer bottle from the counter. “How about introducing me to your friends…?” you said, glancing at the blue-eyed, honey-coloured pit bull that was staring up at the two of you in what could only be astonishment. The moment you both looked at her, she wagged her whip-like tail and wiggled furiously. 

Rhett smiled a wonky smile and said, “That’s Peach. Hovis you already know, and the pretty boy on the couch in the other room is Princess.”

“He’s called Princess?”

Rhett shrugged. “It’s the only name he responds to, so… yeah? I rescued them all at one point or another. Peach lost her front leg before I found her, but she’s a tough cookie.” 

You laughed, and said, “Maybe we could all go for a walk sometime then?”

Peach heard the word ‘walk’ and went berserk, until Rhett raised his finger and gave a tiny warning growl at her. It was only the shortest of sounds, but she stopped immediately, and trotted into the other room looking offended. 

“Oh dear,” you said, grimacing. “I’ve annoyed her already…”

“You’re fine,” he said, taking a deep swig of his own beer. “She just gets excited, that’s all.”

“I guess I didn’t expect to find you…” you broke off awkwardly. “Um… in… human form… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that… at work, I mean…”

He smiled ruefully and walked into the other room without a word. You assumed it was alright to follow him, and headed in to find him sitting cross legged on the floor, leaving the armchair free for you. Hovis had set up camp in the crook of his lap, and he was running his pale hand through his tangled, wiry fur. “It’s easier,” he said. “I mean… not just on the customers. The fluff kind of hides a lot. But it’s hard to stay like that for too long, so when I’m home…” 

“I see,” you said. “Plus as a werewolf I bet you could probably raise a whole car up without the lifting equipment.”

He tossed you an odd look, but nodded. “There are perks to being a woofer I guess,” he said. 

“A ‘woofer’?” you grinned. “That’s amazing. I love that.”

He chuckled, his scars crinkling and stretching, tugging slightly on the corner of his eyelid. 

“I feel like a princess myself up here,” you said, glancing over at the wary saluki who was surveying you from his seat on the sofa. “You mind if I join you and my new favourite loaf of bread? I think the actual Princess would appreciate it too…” you added, casting the imperial looking hound on the sofa a glance. 

Rhett looked at you like you’d just said you wouldn’t mind eating your dinner off the floor, and opened his mouth to protest, but you were on the carpet beside him before he could formulate any words. 

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” you said carefully, “But since you bought me flowers, shall we see if there’s a movie on TV or something? I can go home after that if you like. Or now…”

He looked sideways at you and shook his head. “No,” he said, taking a very deep breath. “You’re welcome to stay. I’d… I’d like it if you stayed.”

You grinned and took Hovis’ truly ugly face in both your hands, very aware of how close you were to Rhett’s personal space like that, and brought your face close to Hovis’ big button nose. “And how about you?” you asked. “How do you feel about me staying?”

Hovis’ little pink tongue shot out and lapped you right across your lips and nose. 

“I’ll take that as an ok?” you asked, looking up at Rhett who had that expression on his face again that made you want to hold him and kiss him. 

Instead, you smiled as he nodded, and settled your back against Princess’ couch, took a sip of beer, and thanked your lucky stars that you had a meddlesome dryad who ran a flower shop for a friend. 

Really hope you enjoyed this one too! Don't forget to drop a click on that heart button if you did! Happy Valentine's.