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Sammy adores the walk to his grandmother's house, the forest is full of life. Every time he walks this path, he sees the fae fly and dance among the greenery. The dust that flutters off their wings creates these magic creatures from the plants and all else that roam the forest. Even at night, it's bright and alive with laughter.
That is not how it is tonight.
There are no fae and no small creatures; it's painfully quiet. The magic is still there, but it feels different. Normally, it feels like, as Sammy would describe, cotton candy, like a light, airy sweetness that makes him feel happy and safe. The current magic feels like humidity, sticky and hot. Clinging to him like he's walking through a bog. It's different but not terrible. He just feels sluggish and relaxed. That doesn’t matter, however. He'll still make it to his grandmother's house while the treats in his basket are still warm.
The missing fae and magic creatures are rather off-putting. Hopefully, nothing has happened to them.
Sammy has this eerie feeling like he's being followed; it wouldn't be the first time someone has tried to rob him of his goodies. He stops in the middle of the path, takes a deep breath, and turns around.
There, in the middle of the path, a few yards away from him, is a werewolf. He should be shocked that he hasn't noticed something massive following him until now, but he isn't bothered. The reason is partially because of the weird magic in the air and more of the reason that if that werewolf wanted him for dinner, it would have done so a very long time ago. At least he now knows that the fae are hiding from it.
There's something wrong with it, though. It looks...frazzled? Not desperate. Oddly enough, this isn't the first time Sammy's seen a werewolf either. He's seen them desperate for food, in pain, and all skin and bones, with a frightening look of hunger on their faces.
This is not the case.
The werewolf is drooling, but it looks very much alive, its fur too poofy and too fuzzy to be normal. Sammy is the only one here, so it clearly has some kind of business with him.
It pads closer to him. He should run. An apex carnivorous creature of unimaginable strength and power is coming toward him, and he should be getting on the good foot, but he just can't be bothered to run away. He'd rather stay here with the werewolf for whatever it needs.
Would someone know if they were being hypnotized? Because that's how he feels right now, slow to react and no fear in his body in the slightest.
The wolf stands tall before him now, no time (or chances) for second thoughts. He puts his basket of treats down, unsure if it was his own idea or if he was willed to do so.
The werewolf has a dark coat, but it has teal eyes. An odd combination, but it sure is pretty. It's also panting hard. Sammy may have been wrong about not being dinner until he smells something sweet in the air and is pushed to the ground onto his back.
Oh, it's in heat.
That's a little odd, though. Shouldn't pheromones work on the opposite sex? That could be for the same species, then, he supposes. The pheromones must be in the air around him, suffocating and slowing him down. Well, it's not like he can fight it. At the mercy of a werewolf that could kill him with the snap of its jaw? Yeah, he's not going anywhere.
His clothes are shredded, and the werewolf nudges its hard cock against Sammy's hole and immediately thrusts in.
It didn't hurt, like he was already prepped for it. Okay, it's not just the pheromones in the air. There has to be some magic in the air that's making him feel so…so right and ready. Is it a time spell, or maybe energy? This can't just be lust, can it? Sammy's just not sure what it is and who's doing it. He'll have to figure that out later; he's a little preoccupied at the moment.
A high-pitched moan escapes his lips at the intrusion. Is this what girls feel like? He feels so hot and wet. It's just bizarre. His hands are pinned to the ground, and the werewolf starts to move inside him. He thought that this would be the fastest, roughest sex of his life, but the werewolf just has a moderate pace, like it's being considerate of Sam's smaller stature.
There's definitely something in the air if this werewolf, with nothing but mating on its mind, isn't ravaging Sammy like it's supposed to. It feels more like making love than sex with how tender it's being.
He can't help the little mewls he lets out or letting his eyes roll and shut. Like every part of him is accepting this as if it's normal. No doubt strange, but this situation would be much worse if he weren't so open, literally and figuratively.
The werewolf's thrusting staggers and grunting are getting louder. Sammy's moaning is also getting louder as they both near the end. The towering creature buries itself deep in Sammy as it reaches its climax, coating Sammy's tight channel and ultimately making him cum as well. Sammy takes deep breaths, and then his arms are released. The werewolf pulls out and pads off into the forest without a look back.
Sammy collects himself and walks the rest of the way to his grandmother's with shaking knees and feeling very satisfied. The treats in his basket are still warm.
When he reaches his grandmother's house, her black cauldron is over a fire on the porch, but she's nowhere to be found. The mixture in the cauldron is furiously fumigating. Pink smoke bellows out of it, and Sammy rushes into the house and calls for his grandmother.
She rushes out of her room and puts out the fire under the cauldron with a pail of water, thankfully not addressing Sammy's attire or lack thereof other than his red cape. She was working on a love potion and took a nap to wait out the boiling. She was deep asleep, and it boiled a lot quicker than she had anticipated.
Ah, so that's what was in the air. Sammy excuses himself to go wash up in the bath after he sets his treats on the kitchen table.
Well, that solves that mystery. He can feel the effects of the potion wear off as he washes himself, most of it at least. The satisfaction and the warm, giddy feeling in his gut still lingers.
He wonders how the werewolf is until it hits him. What happens when the potion wears off, a creature that size isn't going to be satisfied after just one round. It knows Sammy's scent now, knows how he tastes, shit, it knows how he feels. It might come back for him at his grandmother's house. He can't put her in danger. When she's fast asleep, he'll slip away into the night.
He runs on the path and shouts to draw attention to himself. Soon enough, he hears the ground shaking behind him. With fear now affecting him, he runs faster. Not long after that, his feet are swiped out from under him, and he's sent flying, landing hard on the dirt path. Hopefully, this wolf still wants to fuck and not eat him now that the potion has worn off.
Sammy's theory is proven correct as his clothes are shredded, yet again, his chest is forced to the ground, and his hips are pulled upwards. The wolf forces its way inside Sammy, and he screams, not out of pain but of pure shock. Thank goodness he loosened himself just a bit before he left his grandmother's house. He isn't given a moment's rest as the werewolf wastes no time furiously pounding into Sam like he was hoping.....for.
Expecting.
He meant expecting.
This is what he was planning, so he was just expecting this exact outcome: to have the hottest and hardest fuck he's ever had.
Damn it…Fine, he wanted this again so badly. But he just doesn't understand why.
He wails when the wolf finds his prostate and rams until it hurts, and Sammy starts crying. The moment he feels his legs start to give out, the wolf then picks Sammy up and piston fucks up into him.
Sammy's voice is going raw, his cheeks ruddy and wet with tears, his breathing uneven from not getting to rest. He's in heaven. His voice now barely working; all that can be heard is his ass getting ferociously pounded into and deep growls. He hiccups and whimpers softly, too tired to scream anymore, and the wolf lightly gnaws on his shoulder. Sammy cums, but he's so numb that he only notices when he feels it slowly running down his stomach.
The telltale uneven thrusting starts to happen again. Sammy smiles wryly as he's filled for the second time that night, no potion but still feeling the tenderness. The werewolf pulls out, and Sammy turns as red as his favorite cape when he feels himself leaking. He's gently put down, and then the werewolf groans and shrinks.
A man is left in front of Sammy, still quite a few inches taller than him. He has the same glowing teal eyes and dark hair. He looks nervous like he doesn't know what to say. Well, what can you even say after an experience like that?
Instead of saying something, the man walks over to Sammy's very weak body and kisses him. Dream come true, even though Sammy barely has enough energy to reciprocate.
The man finally breaks it off. "Sorry, it just felt necessary at this point." He helps Sammy to his feet and walks him back to his grandmother's house.
Sammy then refuses to let him leave; they bathe together quietly and get into bed. Sammy wakes the next morning sore as shit but otherwise feeling better than ever.
Now that the werewolf is actually a person, Sammy's starting to feel shy. That goes away when he kisses Sammy again right after he wakes up. They mosey out of bed sometime in the afternoon to the smell of breakfast, or lunch in this case.
The table is set, and Sammy's grandmother walks out of the kitchen. "Ah, I see you've met Alex."