Content Warnings:
This story is between a werewolf and a human. There's knotting, mate-biting, a lot of foreplay, a little bit of breeding talk, and overstimulation. There's also a sort of moon-induced descent into madness, but both characters are fully prepared for those changes. I wrote this story from the POV of an mtf trans girl who has not gotten bottom surgery. Because these characters have been friends for so long, there are some mentions of her pre-transition, referring to her as a "boy" in quotations, meant to denote how she was treated/seen by others at the time. I am not trans, but a ton of my favorite erotica is written by trans folks, so hopefully I did ok. If you feel like I really fucked it up, you can let me know!
Of course she was ovulating during our last full moon together. As we hiked up the mountain, I studied the dirt path under her brown sneakers so I wouldn't stare at her ass in those little ripped shorts. I did my best to make it seem like I was panting because of the steep incline of our hike, not because I was huffing her like paint. When she was ovulating, her natural sweet summer scent turned all honeyed and drippy like a popsicle, and it took all my self-control not to lick her up. She was my best friend in the entire world, had been since we were 10. And she was basically the only person alive who didn't know I was in love with her.
We reached the final crest of the mountain, and my best friend turned around with the old school disposable camera in her hands and took a snapshot of me. The sun was a small slice of orange on the horizon, the sky dark blue above us and the stars beginning to peak out. The full moon, I knew, was behind me, neatly bracketed by two green mountains, the valley we lived in below out of frame. There were dozens of these photos of me over the last decade in the scrapbook tucked into her pink backpack. She'd been saving every memory we'd made with each other since 5th grade in that big black book. And tomorrow it would get on a plane with her forever to another state. Perhaps to be filled with memories we experienced without each other.
"Last one," she grinned, and my stomach dropped at the casual reminder until she started spinning the dial on the camera over and over again. Oh. Last photo left on the film.
The cabin was nearly invisible from the regular footpath, covered by some invasive plant species. A trailside bathroom break behind it on a family hike had revealed to her that there was a working door in the back unencumbered by the plants. It was a pretty solid structure, all things considered. It was just one big room with a fireplace that I'd cleared out a few years ago so we could finally set a proper fire inside. The walls were all sturdy, grayish wood, and the floorboards were only rotted a little in one corner where water was beginning to seep in through the old roof.
It wasn't pretty, but we'd made it home. Battery-operated twinkle lights draped from the ceiling and warm solar-powered lamps we hid on the roof were set up in the corners. All sorts of disposable camera prints were tacked onto the walls, many faded with time and curling around the edges from years of morning fog slipping through the cracks.
I started unpacking the much bigger backpack I carried with camping bedrolls, jugs of water, and food. I probably could've hefted a couch up here if I'd been able to figure out the logistics, but she'd always been content to just lounge on pillows and blankets layered over a clean tarp on the floor. It was still a little too warm out for a fire, but for the first time in months, I watched her air out the pretty green and pink quilt she'd made during her sewing phase that we kept in sealed bins in the cabin year-round. It smelled like both of us, like long full moons cuddling in the cold. Like everything I'd always wanted.
I concentrated on a small, specific task to control the wolfy urges until they settled a bit from being in such a confined space with her. I carefully laid out our snacks and drinks next to my empty pack in alphabetical order. Then, when that didn't quite settle me, I did it again by the size and color of the containers. I had a hamster wheel in my brain trying to figure out how to get away from the cabin before I went furry and lost all my good sense.
It wasn't that I wasn't
me
when I shifted. I was just too moondrunk to give a fuck about human niceties anymore. Like cooking meat before eating it or wearing clothes or not sticking my snout between my best friend's thighs like a poorly trained dog. Which I already felt pretty compelled to do on a regular day, but especially when she smelled like
that.
I shook my head like a wolf after it rained, trying to shake loose the dangerous daydreams of finally tearing her clothes off and finding out if she tasted as sweet as she smelled, then blaming it on the full moon afterward.
"You're so quiet today," her concerned voice broke my hyperfocused concentration. "Is everything ok?"
No. I want to fuck you into the next month and you smell like you'd let me.
"Yeah, I just..." I sighed, and admitted to what was really bothering me. "I'm sad this is our last time up here together."
She patted the spot beside her in her sleeping mat that had transformed into a little pillow nest. I hesitated. To a normal person, that invitation in her simple blue t-shirt and shorts wouldn't exactly be seductive. But I wasn't a normal person, I was an infatuated over-thinker wondering,
did she pick the shirt with my favorite fruit on it to make me think of biting her? Was she wearing all those yellow accessories because she wanted to get my wolf's attention with the only color I could see when I shifted?
I'd wanted to tell her a thousand times in a thousand different ways that I was in love with her. All this time slipping through our fingers before she left had me desperately holding back from doing something stupid. I didn't want our last night together until the holidays to be spent being awkwardly rejected. I didn't want to wonder in a week if she wasn't responding to my texts because she was busy at her new job or because she was uncomfortable with my feelings for her.
So I gave myself one final stern talking to about how an ovulating human girl inviting me into her makeshift pillow fort was
not the same
as a werewolf girl in heat inviting me into her nest, and settled stiffly beside her. We both sat with our backs to the sturdiest cabin wall, heavily cushioned by pillows, and bundled under the lightweight quilt perfect for the cooler but not quite cold temperatures of early fall. I let her fuss with her setup—she was a real life princess and the pea—and forcefully kept my restless wolf from rewarding her care for me with a mating bite.
"How are we on time?" she asked, as if sensing my other half in the room with us.
"An hour or two, I think," I said, seeing the last glimmers of daylight slipping through the cracks in the walls. Thank God. I couldn't profess my stupid feelings if I was furry.
"Ok good." She turned to me and squared her shoulders resolutely. "So, I've been looking at my budget now that I have a better idea of my living expenses and my paycheck. And I
think
I can swing coming here to visit every month. I might need a couple months at first just to recuperate from moving costs and any new household stuff or whatever I might have to buy, but once things settle down..."
I literally couldn't hear anything she said after that under the howl of triumph inside me at this news.
She wants me
, my stupid wolf brain that didn't know anything about humans decided.
Mine.
"... but yeah, I'm pretty sure even with savings, I can totally still come up here with you."
"Really?" I rasped, unsure if I was going to cry or growl possessively.
Mine.
She nodded eagerly.
"You'd come back every month just for me?" My heart was pounding and I felt my claws itching to extend.
