Werewolf Boyfriend: Dante 2 (complete)

Female Reader x Male Monster (both cis)

That night in the woods caused you a lot of fear. You and your brother had always joked about what you would do if you became embroiled in a horror movie plot. You both bragged about being brave, about not running upstairs, or going into the woods alone. That night, you had broken the cardinal horror movie rule and gone off alone - in the woods, which should have been instant death.

When you ran away from the werewolf, it should have given chase, but it didn’t. The fear that it existed somewhere out there, possibly even watching you, was like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Someone was going to get you, somewhere, somehow. You could never tell anyone about it, because what if that started off the horror movie? What if telling the secret caused the werewolf to go apeshit and kill everyone? Well, good job, you’ve told the actual werewolf himself. Now, maybe, you’ll be the only dead one.

As Dante looks down at you, his resting serial killer face looks even worse. Sick with panic, you don’t know what to do. Should you run? Should you yell for help? All these swarming, crawly things collide in your brain, so you break down crying.

“Aw, geez...” Dante flinches. He spins around, noticing people looking your way. “Don’t cry! Come on, don’t...”

You’re blubbering, unable to make any sounds other than sobs and whimpers. You can’t even move because it’s taking all your strength to stand and sob.

“I’m not going to hurt you!” Dante insists. “I just wanted to talk about it!”

It’s hard to stop once the waterworks get going. Trying to talk only seems to make it worse. You’re trembling, and thankfully, Dante doesn’t make any attempts to touch or calm you down. He just stands there waiting.

“You scared me back then. I thought for sure I was going to have to run again.” He huffs. “I’m not going to do shit, I swear.”

You cough as you try to talk, sniveling pitifully. “Uh... You... Guh.”

“Calm down,” he sighs. “Deep breaths.”

You shake as you take that first deep breath. A few more, and you’re able to stop sobbing. You’re still crying, though.

“Here.” Dante takes a bandana from his back pocket and hands it to you. “Mop yourself up.” You shakily accept it, wiping your tears and snot away.

“Can you sit?” He motions to one of the picnic tables. Instead, you slide down the pole of the awning and sit on the ground. Dante squats so he is level with you. “Look, I'm sure I don’t have to tell you how hard it is to make a living in this world. Try doing it with nothing to your name. No birth certificate, no Social Security card, nothing. I have been working my ass off trying to survive here. You could be the thing that ruins it.”

“I s-swear I won’t… I won’t...” You hiccup hard, causing your body to jolt.

Dante scoffs and rolls his eyes. “In three years you haven’t said a thing? You haven’t shown that video to anyone?”

You shake your head. “I h-haven’t even s-switched phones because of it.”

His brow furrows lower. “You’re joking.”

“No! This is an iPhone 5! It sucks!” You wag the phone in his face. “But I was afraid as soon as I said anything to anyone, you’d come out and rip my throat open.”

“I wouldn’t...” He scoffs and stands back up. “I will not, and would not, hurt you. I didn’t even do anything that night. I finished my job there and went on.”

You continue mopping up your face with his bandana. “I didn’t know that! How could I? I thought you were under every rock, in every shadow.”

Dante’s shoulders slouch. “Do you still believe in the monster under your bed?”

“Sometimes!” You hiccup, and it hurts your stomach.

A slight smile comes to Dante's face as he looks away, rubbing his chin and jaw until he can face you again. “I had no idea how to react that night. You just came out of the brush and grabbed me. I was petrified myself. I didn’t know what to do! Do I laugh? Do I snap at you?”

You hiccup and grimace. “I thought werewolves were mindless and bloodthirsty?”

“I’ll let that slide.” He sits down across from you again. “But this is something I am born with, something that is a part of me. I’m not mindless.” He looks sad, almost heartbroken. “I just want to live my life. You’re the only person who knows about me. So if anything happens to me, I’ll know it’s because of you.”

“What if an anvil fell on your head. Would that be my fault?’

He glowers at you. You duck your head instantly. “Sorry. It was a joke.”

“Are you going to say anything to anyone?”

Your eyes hurt, and you’re still hiccuping. “I haven’t so far! Why would I start now? Nothing’s going to change, except that I have a fucking name for the monster in my closet.”

“I’m not...” He shakes his head. “I’m not a monster at all. Not for you, not for anyone. I just want to live my life, and if that gets impeded, I’m going to find you.”

You hiccup and burp at the same time, making the strangest sound possible. Dante cracks a smile again and shakes his head. “I’m not trying to be frightening, I swear. I promise I won’t scare you again, as long as you keep my secret.”

“It’s hard to believe that,” you murmur. “Especially when I’ve been terrified of you for three years. I used to love camping, but I haven’t set foot beside a tree since then. I’m sorry, I won’t tell anyone. I just don’t know how I can trust what I’m afraid of.”

Dante looks down, flicking at gravel. “I don’t know how to make you unafraid of me.”

Despite the sun rising higher in the sky, dark clouds are gathering. Dante frowns and rises, offering his hand to you. “It’s going to rain soon. You should get back to your cabin.”

You take hold of his hand, noting the bruises on his knuckles from where he hit Philip. Even though you had dirt on him, he still protected you from a creep. He even met you here rather than somewhere private. “I can give you my number,” you offer. “Then you can like, send me threatening texts or whatever werewolves do.”

“Are you suggesting werewolves can’t text?”

You hiccup. “No. Just...” You unlock your phone so he can create a new contact. “I’ll message you, you can message me. You can ask me once a month if I’ve blabbed. If I have, you can come...” You hiccup.

Dante enters his name and number. As he hands your phone back, he grabs your hand and barks in your face. You nearly piss yourself, and then you slap him.

Dante cups his hand around his face. “I was trying to stop your hiccups!” he protests. A smile blooms on his face though. “Not bad, though.”

You take a breath and clutch your red palm to your chest. “Remember that next time,” you warn. When you don’t hiccup again, you’re relieved.

“See? You slapped me. Maybe knowing you did that will help the bogeyman seem less frightening.” He points to the phone. “Send a text.” You do. When you hear his phone chime, a knot forms in your belly.

“Enjoy the rest of your stay.” Dante nods before turning to walk away.

“Wait a second.” You reach out to him, but then retract your hand. “If you’re out there, then what the hell else is there? Like, are vampires and witches real too?”

Dante taps a finger to his lips. “Shh. It’s secret.”

The hair on the back of your neck bristles, and you make your escape as rain begins to patter on the ground. You get some scrutiny when you return to the cabin, since you left promising ice cream. You go back to your room, shut the door and flop into bed. You stare at the ceiling, listening as the rain becomes a downpour outside.

Your phone chimes with a reply from Dante. “If you never planned on showing the video to anyone, why keep it and the phone?”

It feels strange, different from texting a guy you like, different from texting someone you don’t like. “So I knew it was real.”

“You saw it though, in person.”

You sit up and roll your eyes. “Yeah. But over time I would have convinced myself I was crazy. I would have begun to believe I was seeing things. It was easier to keep the video than to delete it and forget.”

“Is this something you do often? Do you take pictures of everything?”

“I do.”

“Your Instagram feed must be aggravating.”

“Oh, it’s obnoxious.” You set your phone down, thinking that may be the end of the conversation, but your phone chirps again.

“How are you, by the way? Is that guy still bothering you?”

You feel weird - elated, but weird. You look over the question for a long while before you respond. “It could have been worse, which is what I keep thinking about.”

“You managed to get out into public, which was good. You thought smart in the moment.”

You sit back against the headboard as you reply to him. “It was satisfying to see him on the ground. Not to mention that Arnie ripped into him when he found out. I figured he’d stand up for his buddy.”

“He’s still there though, right?”

“Yeah, but he’s been too chicken to show himself much.”

“Shows who he really is.”

“Nah, his tiny dick did that for him.”

“I don’t need to know that.”

You listen to the rain for a moment. Beyond it are the sounds of Miri and Arnie’s bed squeaking. You frown and return to talking to Dante. “Thanks again for sucker-punching him.”

“Anytime. I love hitting assholes.”

A smile lifts the corners of your mouth. “You do that often?”

“I try not to.”

Later that evening, when the rain has stopped, you take a walk outside. It’s cool out, and you watch kids jump in puddles. When you come to the end of the street, the paved road turns into a dirt path that’s blocked from travel. The dirt road winds up through the woods, somewhere you haven’t been in a long time. You stand at the gate, shaking your nerves off and taking deep breaths. You hop over the rail and take your first steps into the woods.

The ground is wet and slippery from the rain. You stop just before the cabins disappear behind you. You can still hear the kids playing, but ahead of you is nothing but trees and moss. You wring your hands together, counting down the seconds before you turn and head back. It’s a big step for you, but it will still take time until you feel comfortable in a forest.

As the week goes on, you see Dante in passing a few times. You wave to him, and he waves back. As your time at the cabin comes to an end though, your text conversations with Dante are steadily lengthening. You message each other often at night, sometimes for hours, sometimes with just a few words.

Packing the car on your final day, Dante approaches to inspect the cabin for billing. You walk with him through the place while everyone finishes putting luggage away. “Guess this is it,” you say.

Dante glances away from the clipboard. “Suppose so.”

“Do you work here all year?”

“Just the summer. The place closes mid-autumn.” He scrapes a few checkmarks across the paper, then moves to another room.

“You got any winter prospects?”

Dante turns on the light of the bathroom, then flicks it off. “The owner of this place has winter cabins further north. I go there and make sure people don’t die on the ski slopes.”

“Sounds miserable,” you chuckle.

“I like the cold.” He gives you a smile as he lowers the clipboard. “What about you?”

You shrug. “I work at a local theatre. I do set design and production. I suppose I’ll be working on either Sweeny Todd of Little Shop of Horrors next.”

“Let me know which,” he says. “I’d like to see Shop of Horrors.”

You follow him outside to the back porch, where he double checks the firepit. When he sees it’s been doused with an extra bucket of sand, he makes a note on the clipboard.

“So is this where you threaten me again?”

He stares at you. “Why would I threaten you?”

You wrap your arms around your back. “Because of the werewolf thing,” you murmur under your breath.

He tilts his head to the side. “Do I need to threaten you?”

You shake your head and scrunch up your shoulders around your neck.

“Then I won’t. I have your number.”

You bob your head. “Yeah. I suppose so.”

“Okay, this place seems fine. I’ll get everything set up with billing and finish off the payment,” he says matter-of-factly. “You and your friends are free to go home.”

There isn’t much ceremony to leaving. You drive off, with Miri while Arnie and Philip in the back of the car. A strange new feeling settles over you. Knowing that the werewolf now has a name, is a contact in your phone, settles differently than before.

Going back to your apartment with Miri, you unpack while Arnie takes Philip home. You hope Arnie won’t be hanging around with him again. Going into your room, you feel at peace. Hugging your own pillows, the weight melts from your shoulders.

A few days go by, and as production at the theatre begins ramping up, you become busy with planning and getting funding. After the first few days, you come home exhausted. You eat, bathe, and flop into bed, falling asleep to YouTube videos. One evening as you drift to sleep, you have a dream. You’re at the edge of the woods, holding a basket in one hand. As the wind whips around you, you clutch the red cloak draped around your shoulders. You step into the woods, following a path. From the corner of your eye you see something approaching you - a creature that hunkers low to the ground, moving swiftly closer. As you go still on the path it rises up before you. The wolf looks at you hungrily, licking its chops.

“May I carry that for you?” the wolf asks.

You lift the basket.

“No,” the wolf growls. He scoops you up in his arms, carrying you like a princess. Your hair and cape float out behind you, becoming longer than you remember. Romantic music swells in the distance as the wolf comes closer to you. “Now, we feast.”

Your eyes go wide.

He licks his lips again. “All the better to eat you with, my dear.”

You wake to the screeching of your alarm. You shut it off and lie there, staring at the ceiling. “Okay,” you murmur. “That was weird.” You check your phone, seeing no new messages. You decide to send one yourself.

“It’s Little Shop of Horrors. They thought a killer plant was less traumatic than a man with a knife.” You set your phone down and listen as the shower turns on.

Your phone chimes with Dante’s response. “I must prefer plants over people. When does the show start.”

You bite your lip as you smile. “We’re still working on that. Once we have our cast, we’ll have a more definite date.”

After that, you and Dante continue to text. Mostly in the evening, as both of you are working. As exhausted as you are, you still make time, sometimes lots of it, to converse with Dante. It helps during the first month of production, which is always stressful. Having to draw up a budget for the estimated funds is never fun. Lots of things are needed, and lots of them you can’t afford.

One evening, after a long discussion about puppets, you drift into that dream again. This time, you’re naked as you walk into the woods, only the red cape covers you. You come to a clearing and lie down, stretching out your body on your cape. You begin to moan, arching your back off the ground as your mouth opens wide. You look down and see the wolf between your legs, his hot tongue pressed against you. His dark blue eyes flick up to yours.

“Are you hungry?” you pant.

The wolf rises, crawling up your body and pinning your hands above your head. “Ravenous.”

The wind and swelling music return. “Then take me. Leave the rest of the forest alone.”

The wolf grins. “Only if that’s what you really want.”

“Yes. I really want it.”

The wolf lowers on you, pressing his weight down. “Wolves are notoriously hungry,” he growls. “I hope you can keep up.”

You wake even before your alarm, feeling warm and tingly between your thighs. You swallow a lump in your throat. “Well,” you murmur. “That’s new.” You sit up, cupping your hand around your warm face. You’ve always had dreams about the wolf. This is just the first time the dream became erotic, and one of the few times you weren’t terrified. You sit in contemplation for a long while, deciding it;s just that period in your cycle and means nothing more. Besides, that wolf could mean anything.

A few days later, as you get out of the shower, a text pops up. Dante has been traveling to his winter employment and hasn’t been able to text, so you’re excited to hear from him.

“Getting settled. Just letting you know a yeti didn’t eat me.”

“Do yetis exist?”

“What? I don’t know.”

“You would tell me if yetis existed right?”

“That’s personal.”

You grin and change out of your pajamas as Dante texts again.

“I have a cabin all to myself this time. It’s pretty big, and my boss said I could invite a friend if I wanted. If you’re not busy, maybe after your play is going, you could come visit.”

Your heart pounds.

“I’m busy too,” Dante continues, “so you wouldn’t have to see me unless you wanted to. You’d have access to everything the regular guests do. So, really, all up to you.”

You bite your lip as you think.

“I’ll even leave you an anvil if you want.”

“Oh shit,” you whisper to yourself. “I like the moon doggie.”