Hi all, first time poster here. Wanted to indulge my own preferences for consensual monster fucking, and hopefully I improved my general writings skills in the process. Any and all feedback is welcome, and I thank you for taking the time to check this out!
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The wolf didn't often come home empty handed. Usually, a carcass of some variety or another was slung over his shoulder, his face satisfied. Whether it was in his blood, or just a personal preference, conquering the agility of an elk never failed to put a smile on his face. If only it were so, that one particular night.
That spring evening, his expression was morose. His brow was furrowed , and his upper lip occasionally crinkled into a snarl. He strode slowly through the undergrowth, his muzzle bloodless, and his hands and feet caked in dirt.
He was capable of catching his prey. He was an imposing creature, a 7 foot tall werewolf with slate gray fur. His thick arms and clawed hands had earned him many a meal, and his muscles were toned and trained through countless pursuits over rock and root. Yet, that night, he had nothing to show for his efforts but dirty fur. He eyed a group of branches poking out of a fallen tree, and his top lip peeled back in a spiteful snarl. He reeled his arm back, and with a brutal swipe, he smashed and scattered the wood into pieces and splinters. He stood there for a moment, contemplating the result of his tantrum, but found no solace in it. That was unsurprising to him, but it had been worth a shot. His walk home resumed.
It was many minutes more of winding through pines, before a familiar scent met his muzzle. In a clearing sat a cabin. Beside the cabin, a clear brook cut a trail through the grass. Though he was a feral-looking thing prowling through the brush, his destination had a cozy air to it. His fur was ruffled by a brief breeze as he approached the door, and the handle turned smoothly for him. A bed sat in one corner, a fireplace upon an opposite wall, and quite the wide selection of dried herbs dangling from the ceiling. Near the bed sat a pile of cushions, salvaged, mended, or homespun. He breathed deep, inviting the aroma of the herbs to soothe him. A quiet growl in his chest confirmed that the effect was middling, at best.
He wasn't alone. A 4-foot tall figure looked up from her worktop when the wolf entered the room. She was dressed in a leaf-formed halter top, and from her hips down was a poofy petaled skirt, akin to a massive hydrangea that one could feasibly rest their head on. Her face quickly broke into a smile, and the fluttering of her purple butterfly wings brought her eye-level with the beast. Her smile drooped when she looked over the wolf's dour expression.
"Aww... no luck today, then?" Her voice was light and kind, though her cheer was diminished by a touch of worry.
The beast huffed and shook his head as he sat, his muscled mass thudding against the planks. "Oh plenty of luck! All the bloody luck in the world: a fat buck ready for the old fang in the first thirty minutes of the hunt. But, this fool..." The wolf gestured to his own chest with a furred thumb as he chuckled ruefully. "I couldn't stay on my feet to save my life."
The fairy huffed and gave the wolf a frown. A quick flutter brought her close to his snout, which she tapped with an extended finger. "Hey now! Be nice to yourself! You bring home plenty of meat and bones!" The wolf cocked an eyebrow at his fae friend, clearly unwilling to cooperate on that front. She let out a sigh, and her expression softened along with her tone. "It's true, okay? You don't deserve to worry yourself about one bad hunt. Still, I'm sorry that it didn't go well... Here, let's get you cleaned up, okay?"
The fairy brought her smile back, and she fluttered over to a bucket of water in the corner. It took quite a bit of vigorous flapping for her diminutive form to heft the heft vessel, but she managed it. With a bit more straining, she hauled it to her furred friend. The wolf managed to get some of his own smile back, as well, thanks to the mixture of genuine kindness and the amusing sight of a fae struggling to haul a heavy load. After taking a couple deep breaths, the fairy kneeled beside the bucket. She placed her palms gingerly upon the water. With a few quickly muttered words of magic, steam rose from the water's surface.
The wolf nodded to the fairy and gave his thanks. "That's the shit." He didn't hesitate to immerse his paws in the warmth, rubbing his digits together and letting out a low sigh of relief. His eyes closed, and the warmth did its work. However, after a brief pause, he recalled his manners. "Thank you, very much." His words were already calmer, looser. As he slowly worked the grime off of his fur, he looked back to his winged companion, and his smile grew. "I'll probably go half-ration tonight. Don't want to dig into the stock."
The fairy gave a wry, bemused smile. "If you go into the stock house, you'll see that we're doing just fine. Don't go starving yourself tonight, okay Wolfy?"