ChengduLittleA

Omega: hah funny but I don't want to ruin our friendship

Alpha: I have literally slept with all of our friends and we're all still friends

Omega: When did you sleep with our friends????

Alpha: What do you think I've been doing when I disappear for a week with someone else?

Omega: I didn't... really think about it??

Omegas:

- Largely seen as weak, but if you try and attack an Omega's mate or pack, you will die a slow and horrible death. They keep the Alphas in line, the Betas go to them for helps with emotional issues, and Omegas are the ones that give birth/have periods with EITHER primary gender. If you really belief Omegas are weak, I pray for you to grow a brain cell before one of them gets to you.

- Twinks and Bottoms, all of them.

- Usually the voice of reason, but known to get real horny, real easy, real fast

Betas:

- Normal

- No secondary gender

- Usually Himbos and Galpals

- The glue that keeps the pack from devolving into either an orgy or war

- Usually the younger-sibling-figure or parent-figure, there is no in-between

- Can not smell for shit

alpha: kinky.

beta: I think you are sweet and beautiful,

alpha: wait.

beta: you deserve to be cared for.

alpha *backs up*: n-no-

beta: your feelings are valid and deserve to be heard.

My Moony and stars 💫

— There are rumors going around that a certain wolf isn’t even a wolf at all, but the Devil himself disguised as a black-as-night canine to bring great terror upon the area. It’s far too smart, far too big, and far too strong to be anything but a sinister beast. Which is why it’s heavily advised not to go anywhere near the forest, and strictly prohibited to venture inside because anyone who had dared to enter, has never come back out.

But you hadn’t listened, carelessly entering the dense mass of green in hopes to reach your grandmother before nightfall, remaining oblivious of the sizable creature stalking, watching you with hungry eyes, until it’s all too late.

Run.

Your lungs burn, shortening breaths puffing into the cold air from between your lips as you dash through the winding trees. Your legs are straining, aching fiercely, and on the verge of collapsing out from under you, but you force yourself to keep running, the alternative being not in your favor. You can hear him, the great pounding of the beast’s jog echoes behind you, reminding you that he’s hot on your trail, the distance between you closing rapidly. A terrifying and ghastly howl suddenly rips through the air, the sound making the blood in your veins run cold and your stomach plummet in dread. He’s so close, too close, you can practically feel his jaw snapping at your ankles.

There is still a great length between you and your grandmother’s house, an hour or two at least. This sprinting act can’t be kept up for much longer, you’re already running on fumes. There is nowhere for you to hide; the trees are too tall, and their trunks too smooth for you to successfully climb up them. And you’re like a shining target, your brilliant scarlet red cloak clearly visible amongst the umber forestry. The odds are not at all in your favor, and fear crawls up your throat, the acid leaving a bitter and stinging taste lingering on your tongue.

You are, for lack of better words, utterly screwed.

Excruciating agony pierces through you as his large claws rip into your side and tear both fabric and flesh like wet paper. Crying out miserably, you lose your footing, stumbling forward before crashing into the dirt ground, basket flying off. You thought you’d be ready for such an attack, well aware of your shitty situation, but no amount of mental preparation could’ve helped you through this consuming pain. It worsens by a tenfold when his jaw clamps onto your calf, teeth sinking deeply into your skin as he jerks your crawling body towards him.

Your nails grab at the earth, raking the grass as you’re dragged back, a pitiful attempt to keep yourself away from the monster. It does nothing useful of course, only causing dirt to gather on your hands and fingers. The wolf lets out a threatening growl, the noise rumbling like thunder in his throat before he releases your leg. You want so desperately to try and run away, free of his grasp, but you know better than to do such a foolish thing. The outcome would be the exact same, but most likely 10x more agonizing.

If you’re going to die, it might as well be as painless as possible.

You whimper at the press of what you assume is his wet bloodied muzzle, nosing and snuffling into your hair, tracking downward until hot breath huffs onto your ear. You flinch when his tongue briefly laps your skin before his beastly growls morph into foul laughter. Instead of coarse fur it’s now the flesh of a man touching you, nose running the length of your jaw. The wolf really wasn’t a wolf at all, but indeed the monster everyone has made it out to be.

“Did you really believe you could outrun me, Little Red?” he hums tauntingly in your ear, stroking the light colored cloak before tugging it off with ease, and you scowl distastefully at the harsh action. “No matter,” the man buries his nose against your throat and purrs in approval, “I do love a hunt with a thrilling chase.”

You begin to struggle against his hold, teeth clenched at the searing pain that shoots through your body. He only chuckles, like you’re amusing him with such weak attempts to break away. “Let me go!” you whine, squirming and twisting in his grasp before he fully presses himself along the length of your back, easily pinning your body flush against him.

“Why so soon?” You feel hot, unbelievably so, as teeth, canines still too sharp to belong to a human, scrape along your throat, before latching onto exposed skin, biting and sucking. You whine under the rough ministrations, attempting to curl away. “The fun is only just beginning,” the man croons, his voice dripping with crooked desire.

You expect him to sink into your jugular, bursting the large vein then watch gleefully as you bleed out. If that’s his definition of fun, so be it. Not the most pleasant way to die, but it’s fairly quick compared to other possibilities.

However, instead a large hand cups your neck, drawing small circles, while the other slips underneath your clothing, gliding along your hip, up your injured side, until he reaches your bosom, squeezing and kneading. You give a shuddering gasp, body becoming like jelly at the unexpected touches.

No — he’s… this isn’t how it’s supposed to go!

You vigorously attempt to once again wriggle yourself away, wanting death to come before this sort of humiliation. But you’re forced still, the hand around your neck constructing awfully tightly. “Aww, what’s the matter, babygirl?” he feigns pity, “Don’t wanna play with the Big Bad Wolf?” You note his knee is nudging yours apart, and he settles himself between your legs, hand stroking up the backs of your thigh while bringing the dirtied, bloodied dress up with it. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening!

“N-No!” Your hands fly out to stop him, grabbing onto both of his wrists but doing nothing more than that. Tears well in your eyes at the lack of breath, and you blink furiously against them. “I-I can’t…”

You just wanted to make sure your grandmother was safe, venturing into the forest at your own risk to ensure she had everything she needed. But, the basket is completely trashed, the woven cane split apart while its contents are scattered about the ground and you’re at the mercy of the legendary monster who wreaks havoc in these woods. And the stories you’ve heard don’t exactly make him out to be compassionate, which didn’t take long for you to figure that out on your own.

One of two things are already for sure; you’re not getting out of this unscathed or (for the better worse) alive.

“You can’t?” He repeats, and your quivering lips frown at the mocking tone, understanding well your pleads have fallen on deaf ears. Although, he releases your throat, and you take in a burning gasp of air, relieved to finally be able to breath again. Maybe he is going to spare you, show you mercy, and maybe, just maybe, set you free to go home and never return to this damned forest again. But you know that isn’t the case when you hear him chuckle rather loudly, the sound nothing short of vile and wicked. “My dear,” he hovers over you slightly, and you feel something hard and persistent pressing against your backside, “you should’ve thought about that before you waltzed into my woods.”

Before you have time to beg anymore, the thin fabric of your panties is shred from your body without effort. Hands forcefully tilt your hips at an angle, and you cry out, wordless pleads spilling from your mouth. A shock runs down your spine as the cool autumn air hits your bottom, and the head of his cock runs suggestively between your legs. You try to struggle away, using any and all the strength left within you no matter how futile the attempt might be, but his hand curls into the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your cheek to harshly hit the ground. You’re bent over, exposed and open for him to take. And then he thrusts inside of you, sharply, roughly, without the slightest hesitation, and a broken wail erupts from your hoarse throat, streaming tears staining your face. He’s so big, almost too big, so large that you feel like you’re being ripped apart. It hurts more than the deep wounds slashed into your body, and that’s saying a lot.

He’s unrelenting, animalistic, as his skin brutally smacks against yours with each thrust he makes, and his hips hunch as his body curves forward around yours. The beast purrs in satisfaction, reveling in your screams of agony. You feel so warm and tight around him, like heaven on earth. His lips move to the juncture of your shoulder, fangs finally sinking into your flesh.

A black haze creeps into your vision, the severe amount of pain pushing you to the brink of passing out, or dying (is this what it feels like?) His lips close around the wound, sucking, licking up the fresh blood oozing down your throat.

You can’t wish for death to happen sooner.

One of his hands grips your hip so tightly you’re sure it’s turning black and blue as he snaps his hips forward with a stern, rhythmic precision. The other hand dips around to the front of you, fondling your breasts and rubbing circles between your legs. And somewhere between all the agonizing pain, the rubbing of his fingers pressed to your bundle of nerves sets a contradictory pleasure tingling through your form.

You begin feeling dizzy, light-headed with strange arousal, mind a haze of pleasure and pain.

Suddenly the man shifts slightly as he fucks you hungrily, deliciously hitting something inside you head-on. You bawl in bliss as stars explode across your vision. And shamefully, the pleasure begins to override the situation, and you begin moving your hips backward to meet the thrusts. “Enjoying it now, aren’t we?”

You are a complete and utter mess. Your mouth is open, panting harshly as your flushed face is streaked with saltwater, mind lost in the hellish depths of primal lust. It has the beast behind you smirking in amused contentment.

His hips move with increasing speed, cock ravaging every part of you. “Come for me, Little Red.” With a particularly powerful thrust he has you coming, screaming so loud you can swear every nearby village is able to hear. Your muscles contract deliciously around the man’s length, and he begins to fuck you harder and harder, desperate for his own release. You feel so sensitive as you come down from your high, body tired and aching. You still feel the wolf’s hardness moving in and out of your body, now impeded by his knot keeping your bodies together. You whine pathetically, going limp as you’re fucked like a ragdoll.

It isn’t long before the man tenses, his cock swelling inside you before he spills his seed deep within. You keen at the feeling of being filled to the brim, body crushed in the wolf’s strong arms. His hands tighten their grip on your hips as he’s milked dry.

You begin drifting, floating, detaching, as consciousness slowly ebbs away from you. You feel your body being picked up, your distorted vision barely makes out the sight of the mysterious man’s grinning face before darkness consumes you.

“Mine.”

- soft

- nice hugs

- thigh pillows??????

Cons of chubby bf:

- none

Pros of skinny bf:

- fit in arms real nice

- your clothes are too big! adorable

Cons of skinny bf:

- none

Pros of muscled bf:

- probably works out and that’s hot

- can pick up! Stronk!

- bicep.

Cons of muscled bf:

- none

Pros of short bf:

- better angle for throat punching facists

- I can give piggyback rides

- can be picked up!

- very good at stealing clothes

Cons of short bf:

- none

Pros of a tall bf:

- can reach things!

- lean down for kisses

- curbstomp facists with ease

- good clothes to steal

Cons of tall bf:

- none

Pros of disabled bf:

- is own independent person

- often has very profound comments and/or a hilarious sense of humour but it’s ignored a lot

- unique lifestyle that works for him and he’s gonna live life to the fullest

- stronger than any damn marine

Cons of disabled bf:

- none

Pros of autistic bf:

- he stims when he’s happy

- tells you about his special interests

- super knowledgable about his favourite topics

Cons of autistic bf:

- none