Werewolf Boyfriend: Dean 3 (complete)

Female Reader x Male Monster (both cis)

It’s kind of funny, you have to admit. After all the serious talk about the paranormal, Dean’s little outburst is a good laugh. “I like roleplay as much as the next girl, but I’m trying to make us lunch,” you giggle.

The serious look on Dean’s face doesn’t budge an inch. “No, I…”

You sigh and return to the stove. “You tried, it’s okay. Maybe later. Maybe once we actually, you know,” you say with a smirk.

Dean’s expression shifts to disappointment. “I really like you, so I’m trying to be honest here. Back home there’s a way to do it, but out here it could get me shot, so I…” He stops again, biting his lip as he looks at you.

You turn back to him with your brows pinched. There was something in one of the Spoopy Forecast articles that talked about sacrifices being left on the stoops and in the front yards of people in Hearthway Hollow. Someone had mentioned it was a way to attract mates. Others said it was a warning. “Dean, what are you talking about?” you huff.

Dean clutches the front of his shirt, digging his fingers in. The dark red of his birth mark seems to shift, contorting and deepening as his skin reddens. “I want you to know. We’ve known each other for a month now, and dated for half that…” His voice cracks with nerves. “And since I moved here I haven’t really dated, because it makes me nervous. You don’t make me nervous at all, but if I don’t tell you…”

“Out with it.” You cross your arms. “Stop playing a joke if that’s what you’re doing, because you’re starting to freak me out!”

Dean’s eyes lock with yours. “I told you.”

You scoff and take a step back. “You’re a werewolf.”

Dean sighs and his shoulders sag. “I’m the Beach Beast too. I go swimming at night, and I like to shift when I do it.”

You immediately stomp your foot and uncross your arms. “No! Now this is really unfunny.”

Dean swallows and takes a firmer stance. “I’m not being funny, I’m telling you the truth. I can show you.”

You point out the window. “It isn’t a full moon. It isn’t even night!”

Dean shakes his head. “The moon is part of the myth. Like with vampires and crosses.”

If it were possible, your jaw would hit the floor. “Now you’re trying to tell me that vampires are real?”

A guilty look crosses Dean’s face, like he’s let out a secret. “Well…”

You slam down the wooden spoon you’ve been using to cook. “Okay, then do it! Shift into a werewolf. Eat my face for all I care. If you want to prove me wrong, then just do it.”

Dean is quiet for a long spell. He keeps his eyes down and chews on his bottom lip. Then he slowly lets out another sigh before he turns his head. “I’ll need a bit of room.” Dean walks out of the kitchen, going behind the counter into your living room. He takes off his shirt, revealing that he’s hairier than you first assessed. He takes down his hair, letting it cascade around him. “It can get a little scary while shifting,” he says, stretching himself out like he does before a yoga class. “I’ll understand if you look away.”

You just stand behind the counter, watching Dean. You don’t say anything, and in fact you’re afraid to say something you’ll regret if he’s just taking a joke too far. But if it’s true… holy shit. That’s when you notice the hairs on his arms bristling. His fingers snap and pop, the joints lengthening ever so slightly. Dean’s face strains, like he’s concentrating through pain. Gray hair, or rather fur, continues to grow along his arms, gradually covering his skin. His face twitches, and his eyes change color. He doubles over, nearly hitting your coffee table.

“I believe you!” you scream as you rush to his side, unsure what to do. “If this hurts, please stop! I believe you! I believe you!”

Dean goes still and lifts his head, and you look into the eyes of the Beach Beast from the picture. You feel like you should run, but his paw touches your hand so gently, it feels like Dean. Where the port wine birthmark was, his fur is pure white “It’s okay,” Dean says. “It’s fine.”

“Motherfucker,” you wheeze.

Dean’s smile is sad and uncertain. “I didn’t want to get into something serious with you and not have you know. Since you already liked these things I thought I could share, so…” He stops when you touch his face. You rub your hands all over him, feeling the bones beneath the skin. Your mouth gapes as your hands brush down his chest, finding no skintight costume or zipper. You feel his elongated jaw again, and realize it explains the strangeness of his x-rays.

“That kind of feels nice.” The tail behind Dean wags happily.

You pull your hands back. “Why the hell would you swim at night looking like this?”

Dean shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t anymore. Not since you showed me that picture.”

You stand up and walk away, beginning to pace on the tile of the kitchen. “You don’t seem bloodthirsty.”

Dean stands as well, so much taller than before. “Werewolves aren’t like how they are represented in movies or stories. The old myths do have some truth to them, but it’s hard to say what’s real and what’s not. Maybe in the old days werewolves were evil, but believe me when I say that back home everyone I know is decent.”

“Your brother?” you murmur.

Dean nods. “He’s big, but he’s like a puppy.”

You bite your cheek nervously. “How many people in Hearthway Hollow are we talking here? How many werewolves live there?”

Dean shrugs. “Over half the population, I’m guessing.”

“Over half…” Your voice chokes off, and you go to the fridge to get a bottle of water. You guzzle it down and breathe deeply.

Dean approaches, placing his hand reassuringly on your back. “I can leave if you need to think.”

You wipe your mouth and shake your head. “I don’t know what to think,” you huff. “But I don’t want you leaving, either.” He looks so relieved when you say that, and even smiles. Dean still looks cute, and even in this big, frightening form, you like him. You place your hand on the white fur of his face. “So it doesn’t hurt?” you ask.

“A little. It used to be so much worse as a kid, and it’s part of why I took up yoga. But as you grow up, you get used to it.” Dean’s eyes look you over. “I’ll answer whatever question you have. Just ask me.”

Your fingers comb through the thick fur on his chest. You end up going to the sofa, where you sit down and have a long conversation. Dean tells you about Hearthway Hollow. Most werewolves, he says, are loners or hunt in packs that rely on a hierarchy. His hometown relies on a set of rules and a council of elders who protect Hearthway Hollow from outside forces, and keep both humans and werewolves safe so they can live their lives freely and without fear. He tells you about the courtship ritual that happens when a werewolf meets their desired mate - and also that the moment he met you, he knew he wanted to be with you.

“How did you know?” you murmur.

Dean shrugs. “I never understood it when my parents told me about it. It was just this knowing inside, a warmth.” He places his hand over his chest. “I could tell from your scent…”

“My scent?” You laugh weakly.

He nods. “You can tell a lot from smells, and my nose is exceptionally keen.”

You smile faintly and look at your hands. “Oh god, you met me at the gym when I was all sweaty!” you moan.

Dean chuckles. “I still liked how you smelled. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

You peer up at him. “What do I smell like?”

Dean’s ears twitch, and his eyes become serious. As he looks at you, you suddenly feel a warmth inside yourself. The way he takes you in doesn’t make you feel afraid, but appreciated. Dean tilts his head, moving in close so his cold nose is right by your neck. He inhales, and a small shiver trails up the back of your neck. “A touch of mint,” he murmurs. “A little bit of iron. Something salty, and a sort of fresh, airy smell. You definitely have the ocean on you.”

Your cheeks feel ember-hot. “The mint is probably from work,” you murmur.

“Iron from the gym,” Dean chuckles. “Or maybe it’s the blood in your cheeks right now.” The leathery pads of his fingertips touch your skin.

You giggle and smile at him. “Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not,” he breathes. His fingers gently tuck your hair away. “I would like to kiss you now. But you said it would depend on how cute a werewolf was.”

You swallow. “You’re very cute.”

Dean’s ears twitch. “Then can I?”

You nod in silence, closing your eyes as you feel his kiss. It’s strange, but you can feel Dean in the imprint of his mouth. Afterwards, you talk more, deciding to take things slowly to see how you feel after this revelation. But after the night fades and you see him at the gym the next morning, you still feel that same rush inside.

Still, he’s quite busy with the yoga studio after its opening, and over the next couple of weeks it’s hard to pin down times to hang out, let alone go on a date. You text regularly. Dean mentions there may be one or more Beach Beasts besides him, as the first sighting happened before he moved to Orin Beach. It’s a bit frightening, but also fascinating to think there could be other werewolves, or other things, around your home.

Finally, an evening comes when both of you are free. It’s been a few days since you were last able to see each other, and Dean hasn’t even been to the gym because of work. Dean is coming straight from his shift, and he asks to use your shower. It’s fine with you, and you cook while he cleans off. You hear the shower running, and since you’re baking everything in the oven you have a bit of time to yourself. A wicked thought crosses your mind, and you smile and go to the bathroom door.

The door is ajar, so you let yourself in, and you can smell the coconut berry shampoo as Dean scrubs his hair. You inch closer to the curtain, and Dean laughs. “Trying to spy on me?”

You stand stiffly. “I know you’re there. I heard the door.” Dean pulls back the curtain and smiles out at you. “If you want to join me, just say so.”

“I, uh... Okay.” You take off your clothes, gently kicking them aside before you get into the shower behind Dean. You feel dizzy for a second, and then so aroused at the sight of his back and buttocks. You come up close behind him, kissing his back and touching his slick skin.

“That’s nice,” Dean moans.

“Don’t turn around just yet,” you murmur.

“How come?”

You press against his back, feeling skin on skin. He’s so warm, even with the shower running, and you slowly put your arms around him, touching his chest and stomach. “I’m still working on getting to my goal weight,” you answer. “I don’t think I look all that great.”

“I may have a different opinion,” Dean offers.

“I’ve been working really hard at it. I’m trying my best to lose this weight.” You kiss his bare skin again, and his hands cover yours on his chest. “You look so amazing.”

“Don’t compare yourself to me,” Dean scolds. “I don’t even think of myself when I look at you. I can tell you’ve put in a lot of effort. I’m proud of you.” He turns around to kiss you, and you stop breathing as his hands run down your body. He moans against your neck, nipping it.

“Dean, wait.” You gently shove him back. “I’ll get dizzy in this hot shower.”

Dean smiles at you and kisses your cheek. “You look amazing,” he murmurs into your ear. “I feel like that wolf in the Tex Avery cartoons when I look at you.”

“Oh, wow,” you gulp.

Dean turns off the shower, and the two of you get out. You offer Dean a towel to dry off. “Dinner won’t be much longer.” You stoop to pick up your clothes.

“How long?” Dean asks.

You shrug. “Twenty minutes at the most.”

A smirk comes across his face, suggestive and a little wicked. He takes your hand, making you stand back up. “More than enough time for me.” He places his arm around you and his lips upon your ear again. “I want to make you come.”

Your eyes widen. “Really?”

Dean’s tongue presses against your skin as he moans. “If you don’t mind me having a little snack before dinner.”

You swallow as you place your hands on his chest. “What do you have in mind?”

Dean’s voice drops low in your ear, roughly familiar. “I want to open those pretty little thighs up, find the sweetness between them, and nibble my way through the sugar.”

You giggle and knead your fingers into his shoulders. “I’ve never had that happen before.”

Dean moans again, making you shiver. “I should warn you, as sweet as I am usually, I’m pretty big and bad in bed.”

“Oh,” you quaver. “As long as you aren’t too rough. I’m kind of the opposite.”

Dean kisses you lovingly. “I’ll take care of you.”

You lead Dean to the bedroom, and there you relinquish control. Dean pushes you to the bed, pinning your hands as he kisses you. He moves down, his hands sliding along your arms and then down your body. He pays careful attention to each inch of you, kissing and licking until he gets to your thighs. He spreads your legs, placing them over his shoulders, and the brush of his hot breath makes you shiver. His fingers rub at your plump mound, slowly opening you up. You close your eyes nervously, placing your head back against the pillows before you feel something hot and wet against your labia. You gasp, clutching your bare chest. Dean’s chuckles vibrate against you as his tongue laps at your clit, making you squeal.

“I want to hear your voice. Don’t hold back.” Dean kisses and licks, feeling your body tremble. Just as it feels like you can’t stand it anymore, his lips close around your clit and begin to suck. You yelp and grab the back of his head, clutching and pulling at his hair. He’s relentless, suckling and licking your clit until it feels like you might explode. You gulp down breaths and heave, body trembling, eyes rolling. All the air is squeezed from your body, and then you pop. You flop on the bed, writhing, almost kicking Dean.

He wipes his mouth, laughing proudly and wickedly. Then he takes a deep breath and stretches. “I’ll go check on dinner. You stay put.” He rises naked from the bed, and you curl into a ball. You cup your hand around your vulva, because even the cool air feels like too much. How did he do that? Dean returns a moment later. “I turned the stove off. The food looks done, but I think we need a few more minutes.”

You look up at him as you uncurl. “I don’t think I could even walk,” you moan. You see he’s taken his werewolf form and your eyes go wide again. “Oh. It’s you again.”

Dean chuckles, smoothing his hand down his chest. “I thought you might enjoy this side of me, too.” He kneels back on the bed and crawls toward you. “What do you think?”

You reach out and put your hands around his face. “I like it.” You give him a smile. “Are you really as big and bad as you say?”

“Bigger,” he growls into your ear. “But I’m not so bad.” He pushes you back down, turning you around and raising your hips up. “I promise, everything that I do is so good.” His hands knead up your back and then return, capturing your hips between them. “Here I come.”

You forget about dinner. You forget about breathing. In fact, you forget about most things. Not until you feel the cool breeze from the window on your skin do you remember where you are. Dean is like a beast in the best possible way, equal parts rough and gentle with a dominant edge. You look over at him as he sleeps, his long hair splayed over the pillows and his long lashes against his cheek. He looks so sweet and peaceful. Dean’s eyelids flutter, and he takes a deep breath before he smiles at you and stretches. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s okay.” You roll onto your side. “You earned it.”

Dean moves to his side too. “Everything okay? I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

You shake your head. “I would have told you if you were.” You pet the port wine birthmark, smoothing your palm through his hair. “You were great.”

Dean kisses you. “You really don’t mind the werewolf?”

You pull him into an embrace. “It’s you. Why would I mind?”