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#yanderecore
2-dsimp · 1 day
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Yandere Priest with Nun Darling.
Introducing Yandere Priest Zebad✨
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Yandere Priest Zebad takes his prayer sessions very seriously if he finds out you haven’t partaken in his daily sermons he’ll kindly reprimand you with his holy dic—
( ・᷄ὢ・᷅ )
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yandere-wishes · 2 days
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𝓦𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓦𝓸𝓵𝓯
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Summary: Heritage pricks Wriothesley like a valley of thrones, it's unnerving to find someone with the same pains. 
Warnings: Yandere Behavior, werewolves, gore, older man/ younger woman if you squint.
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January 15th; 12:00 Am  
There's blood on your face and a blade in your hand when Wriothesley first meets you. A body at your feet half gutted and half eaten. If not for the flickering shade of gold in your eyes, he'd have summed you up as just another alleyway murderer. 
Not a monster.
Not a creature he was all so intimately familiar with. 
When you'd first met the Duke of Meropide, there had been a full moon hovering overhead. A little too haunting for your taste. The stars cowered behind heavy clouds as the taste of metal rang in your mouth. His frigid fingers had tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. Tracing it's shell that had yet to lose its unnatural edge. "Qutrub" he mumbles, low and rattling as he drapes his jacket across your shoulders. 
You've yet to tell him that that night still haunts you. Not the blood or the first kill. Not the face of the man as you tear out his intestines with your teeth. No, the nightmares come from his voice, how easily he spoke of the horror you'd turned into. He'd known you before you'd even known yourself. 
His familiarity is what haunts you. 
All too deep and knowing. 
You still shiver when the beast's name leaves his tongue. 
He's blunt and brutal when he tells you of the curse you've inherited. What manner of creature resides within you. He speaks as if he's the Archon of wisdom, all lethal facts and icy truths. You couldn't really speak back then, brain still split between two worlds. Too feral to be human, yet too meek to be a threat. "The first transformation is always the worst, kid. It'll take a while before your mind's set straight again." 
You didn't understand what he meant back then. Too busy focusing on the permanent buzz in your head. It felt like a fever dream, sticky, slow. Your limbs weren't your own and neither were your thoughts. You think you may have collapsed back then. Vaguely recalling the sensation of his calloused palms against your forehead. 
 It's only by the end of a brutal week that you finally realize what his words signified. You're starting to act human again. Morphing back into something normal, something tame. It's only on the seventh day that you remember how to form words. And even then it's only half-slung phrases in your mother tongue. Wriothesley answers when you speak. Mirroring your words, your accent, your tones. That had been around the time you'd begin to understand what he was. What you where. 
Not human. 
Never human. 
 It's another excruciating week before you remember the language of Fontaine.
 Another long endless month until the new moon. 
January 30th; 1:00 Am
There's blood on your hands again, a shade too red to have a name. You stare at the body, his face shredded beyond recognition. 
His bone reverberates between your teeth. Beckoning you to crush it, to crack it open and gulp down the marrow like nectar. 
Wriothesley hums in approval, slinging himself over the ring ropes. The Pankration Ring is abandoned. Reserved only for the warden and his new "pet". It had become routine over the last few weeks, Wriothesley would bring in a "misbehaving" prisoner, some he -and by extension Fontaine - needed gone. And you would take the opportunity to whet your new, primal powers. 
"bloodlust does not define us." He circles you. Predator and prey. "Our kind has existed since the dawn of Tayvat. We're not monsters, although that's what everyone likes to think." he stops, his fangs tickling the side of your neck. As if trying to simulate a reaction, he needs you to feel the antiquity that courses through your blood. To understand where all this is coming from. 
The bone in your mouth cracks, something thick spills out. Just as Wriothesley's fangs pierce your precious flesh. 
"We're not monsters..."
"Not quite" 
January 31st, 11:59 Am
His voice is haunting. It slips into the cracks of your psyche, pulling apart the open wounds until there's enough room for him. Only him. The glib timbre of his voice stalks you through the corridors and past the darken rooms. Slithering over walls and echoing in your skull. Cauterizing doubts of what you are. He needs you to feel his pain. To live with his curse, his blessing. 
There's a window five meters from his office. It's the only time you catch glimpses of the world outside the metal dome. Your mind is fractured now too preoccupied by new sensations and emotions to fully recall anything from the topside world. The blurry scenery has long since faded from your memory.
 Somewhere a clock chimes. You start to race for the boxing ring. 
February 1st, 12:15 Am
You recall the first lesson he ever taught you. Back then you had yet to shed the ferocity running ramped across your veins. Preferring to use your teeth, to tear and sheer, hacking at whatever flesh you could reach.
You lay in a pool of gore, fresh enough to make your mouth water. Still, you keep your eyes locked on him. Longing for some acknowledgments, a shred of affection. 
Wriothesley's shadow is casted above you, white fangs glowing. He looked every bit the predator he'd raised himself to be. "Tired already?" His voice carries a tone of mockery. It's to be expected you guess as you'd laid on the metal floor heaving. Black dots danced across your vision, laughing when you tried to block them out. Wriothsly stands proud, metallic boxing gloves reflecting what little light they can. "We're qutrub's (y/n), not animals. Stop acting like one." 
Today's prisoner had put up a fight. A dirty one at that. His blade had pierced you more times than you dare count. it had been Wriothesley who had finished the job. Who had saved you from your target. A heartbeat later you feel him pulling you up, cradling you in his arms as he departs for his chambers. 
Back then you'd seen him as a predator, a beast. No difference in what he decided to call himself. Now all your eyes can convene is a saint draped in black. Wriothsly wears his heritage on his sleeve. Proud of the beast he has become. Proud of the way his bones rearrange to turn in into something odious, something ethereal. Someday you wish to make him proud. To be the creature he envisions, to be more than a monster, more than a wolf. To be worthy of him. 
"I love you" Wriothesley mutters, warm breath hitting the side of your neck. You wonder if monsters can love if that sentiment isn't stripped from them the moment they grow claws. You think it's ludicrous to believe either of you can still harbor such human feelings.
 The new moon feels like a lifetime away.
Febuary 8th, 2:00 Am
 "Until you learn to control your powers, they'll always reign over you. Never bend to them. Remember they are an extension of you. Not the other way around."
The bloodlust has grown more ferocious as of late. Its vicious howl rings through your head, blocking out Wriothesley's voice. It's a welcomed difference, a much-needed rest from his constant yammering. 
You've taken to hunting for sport. Slaughtering any you can corner, any you can out-match. Cherishing the blood that dries under your nails and the liberating ache of your body after the fact. 
At first, Wriothesley had made a show of decorating his desk with any blood-soaked trophy you'd brought him. Now you think he's growing vexed. 
He has you perched on his lap. Ankle cuffed and chained to the stone floor. A security mechanism he'd insisted on after you'd brought him the heart of the Coupon Cafatria's chef. 
Wriothesley never keeps animals in the fortress. He insists it's cruel to cage such a free thing. You wonder if you'll be the first exception. 
Wriothesley drinks tea religiously. it's the only thing keeping his heritage flowing within his bones. You wonder if the flavored scorching waters keep the violent urges at bay. You wonder if their soothing is all that keeps him from ripping out people's jugulars. 
He offers you a sip from his adorned glass. The tea's aroma is overwhelming, it reminds you of a place you've never been to. It burns your tongue on the way down. Enough to make you consider shattering his cup. 
February 11th, 3:00 am
Wriothesley flinches when he sees the blood coating his hands. Flashes of a hell he'd long since buried flicker through him.
A part of you wishes to tell him that he's clean. That killing isn't a sin. At least not here, not to them. He tells you of the night he first transformed, a tiny boy who, at the time, had only ever pulled his punches. 
He tells you why he killed and maimed, why his powers awakened when they did. "I keep trying to tell you." His words are phantoms, restless spectators that cloud your mind. "We're not monsters, not really. Sure all they see is the bloodshep and claws and they take off running. But the truth is our kind have been guardians and protectors longer than their kind has existed." 
His fingers trace your cheek. Leaving red waterfalls to drip down your chine. You think this is love in its rawest form. You think this is desperation in its strongest form. 
Wriothesley's kisses taste of burnt ice and ash. Filled to the brim with sorrow, too deep to understand. You claw at the back of his neck. breaking skin on a childish whim. Desperate to unleash the monster he insists, doesn't exist.
In a blinded second of rage, of passion, of some emotion, no word could properly describe. He has you sprawled on the cold ground. His body hovering over yours. You see his eyes bleed into the most perfect crimson. You see the monster start to break out. 
Febuary 14th 11:58 Am 
It takes too much effort on his part not to baby you. To remind himself that regardless of your age and lack of experience you are still an adult. He gives up on most days, opting to just cradle you on his lap and hum some forgotten tune until you fall asleep.
Tonight's the new moon. He doesn't know what to expect.
You hear his voice in the back of your head telling you to calm down. 'It's just the way we look, you're alright.' you ignore it favoring the sensation of your claws digging behind your eyes. You feel his claws on your wrist prying your hands away. They cut into your veins and you howl, something inhuman, something feral. 
Wriothesley kisses your eyes, staining his lips a doleful red. He listens to the cacophony of your bones rearranging, cracking, and slipping into their new positions. 
he teaches you how to box. Tells you it's a way to stay in touch with your human side.
he tells you about the murders, about how, even at such a young age, he'd known he was a monster, he'd known his heritage sang hymns of moons and blood between his bones. He tells you how he overcame it, where he became something more than a monster. The stories ease the transition, piquing your interest enough to distract you from the natural way your body bends. 
"I want to be human again" you choke, tears marring your cheeks "I hate this, I hate you. Why couldn't you have left me in that alleyway? Why couldn't you have left me alone!"
Wriothesley's facade cracks, your trained eyes pick up the slightest indication of concern weaving across his face. "They'd have hunted you like a wild animal". "I am a wild animal" You protest. "You should have let them kill me!"
There's blood in the back of your throat, metallic, pungent. It feels like holding the sun between your teeth and letting it burn you from the inside. You wonder when you'll be strong enough to deny the bloodlust, to relish in the transformation. Will a time ever come when all this feels natural? When you're as calm and composed as him?
Wriothesley kisses your forehead. It's the last thing you remember before the world turns red. Your brain and body are no longer your own, governed now by the fanged creature inside you. 
If ever there was a time to die, now's not it. 
Febuary 15th 11:00 Am
You wake up in a soft bed. Wriothesley's arm tucked under your head. Your nails have lost their supernatural edge, you trace stars and moons into his chest absentmindedly. His pale blue eyes, shift to you, shaking off the netherworld they'd been engaged with.
"There's an old story about us." His gaze is as cold as the blizzards of Snezhnaya. "About how we were cursed yet survived. The divine turned us into soldiers, they didn't expect us to thrive."
You used to be a fickle thing, all so arrogant and free. So sure of your place in this world. When did that change exactly? When did the world morph into an endless stream of gore and despair? When did you start hanging onto his every word? Despreat for him, all of him?
"What is a monster anyway" you ask, voice too frail that it cracks when met with open air. "A guardian, an outcast, the child of heroes who shares none of the glory its parents once had." You feel the burn on your tongue from the tea he gave you. Suck on the flesh before replying.
" It's inexperienced shoulders buckling under the weight of duty."
"Maybe" he shrugs, "I guess it could be that too."
Somewhere along the lines, Wriothesley forgot how to love. He's not even sure if he's ever understood the emotion in the first place. Maybe it all comes with being a feral, creature of the night. Maybe it all comes with being born only partially human. He rolls your name off his tongue. Nicking his bottom lip on his fangs.
He wonders if you'll like chameleon or mint tea for breakfast. Or maybe something more bitter. His lips find you delicate ones, an exchange of exhaustion. You're so soft and sweet under him, a stark contrast to the beast he's come to tame. 
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Masterlist
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office-test-stage · 8 hours
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song-show-behavior · 23 hours
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f-zzysocks · 3 days
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take your time if you need, i know in the end you'll come back once you've realised i'm the only one who can give you all you need
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thegvlaxyrvanger · 2 days
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✧. GALAXY RANGERS NOTE -— While I'm still working on 💌 anon's request, take this short :] sorry if this felt lazy because it is lolololol -3-
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‧₊˚ ⸝⸝ ♡. -— Pairing : Yandere! GN ! Mean Popular Student x GN Student Reader (Yandere is unnamed and goes by they/them.)
☆. Taglist (Please lmk if you want to be added :]) ;
𖥔. @dead-dove-yandere
TW : Stalking, Obsession, Implied Violence.
You just reached Senior High, and today's your first day of school, you lazily tried to get up from your bed but failed miserably, it took you a few minutes to do so because you were still sleepy.
Eventually you managed to get up after what seemed like forever for your mom, you then ate breakfast, took a shower, changed into your uniform, brushed your teeth, took your bag and lunch, and went to school.
You were a little nervous as this was a different school, as soon as you entered, everyone's eyes were flying at you, gazing at you like vultures. It was nerve-racking, really, it made you feel very uncomfortable.
Rushing through the hallways to find your locker, you accidentally bumped into the popular student, they were with their little minions, they then raised an eyebrow, eyeing your looks, “Ahhh, so you're the new one that everyone's been talking about, huh?”, you then nod, slightly nervous as you just wished that they'd just leave you alone.
Though they had other plans as their minions circled around you, a huge crowd of students were starting to grow as them and their minions teased you and pulled your hair, after what seemed like forever, the bell finally rang and everyone started to go to their classes, “tch, you just got lucky.. I have my eyes on you, you little shit.” they said as they walked away along with their cronies. You went to your class, got introduced to your classmates and it went normal which relieved you, looks like it's gonna take a while for you to eventually get used to things here.
Classes have finished, and as you were about to go to your locker, a group of students then went up to you, asking for lunch money, when you politely refused, they threatened you and said that they'll be waiting for you by the gate the next day and walked away eventually. You tried to shake off what they said but you couldn't, all that you could think about was what those bullies said, you couldn't even focus on your lesson as you kept thinking about what they said, looks like luck isn't on your side today's first day on your new school.
Though to your surprise, those bullies weren't by the gate, it seems that they either forgot about it or something. But when the bell rang and you eventually went to class, you saw one of them, badly bruised, this confused you but brushed it off. As your first period ended, you saw the bullies that threatened you yesterday, they were all badly bruised up, and when they saw you, they avoided you which only made you even more confused as you then questioned yourself.
Who beat them up? Was it to protect you? And how did they find out?
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mochixkisses · 3 days
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i can't love without obsession, without overwhelming devotion. i will pour all of myself into you until i have nothing more to give. so please, angel, keep my love for you safe and my heart filled with your love in return.
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yanaleese · 3 days
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karmas thoughts on a socially awkward reader 🗣️
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First of all, Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) is a huge spectrum of people who have a wide range of symptoms and severity. This can involve social interactions and communication.
Note that I am not an expert on these things, so no offense on anybody who has this disorder.
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Socially awkward MC:
Once again, Karma is VERY flexible on who he loves - especially you! And since you're so shy and timid, it gives him more time to cuddle you, kiss you, and just admire you! (and saves time from kidnapping you) He'll especially tease you for everything and baby you up, just to see you more flustered and embarrassed (that is, if you're comfortable). Overall, Karma will be a lot more protective and weak to your cuteness! Lots of fluff moments will be made here!
MC: K-Karma...
Karma: Mm? *holding a huge cup of hot chocolate*
MC: Can I get...one too...? *points to his cup*
Karma: You want chocolate? With marshmallows? Topped with sprinkles?? I'm on it, Xaxi! <333
Socially awkward + autistic MC:
First of all, Karma would first ensure what your boundaries are e.g. your love language, personal space, etc. Then he'll go from there to ensure you're super duper loved and comfortable! In this case, he won't tease you and baby you as much - since he doesn't want you to see him as patronizing. In fact, Karma wants to let you know he loves you and spoils you because you're his partner. You're his #1 Valentine. You're special because of who you are.
MC: *in bed with Karma, tugging at his shirt*
Karma: Oh hey Xaxi...you okay? You good? *is immediately awake (totally wasn't watching MC)*
MC: *just snuggles into him more, upset mumbles*
Karma: Mmm...well I'm here, Xaxi...always. Forever and a day. So relax...I'm not going anywhere. I love you too much to leave you alone.
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zennotixs · 2 days
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creepy anons, cute anons, stalker anons, lovesick anons.... i love them all! (✿///ᴗ///)
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fleshentwined · 3 days
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i want to tenderly sow our flesh together so we can be close in flesh & blood <3
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2-dsimp · 2 days
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Aaaaah Judas is too cute and horny i just want to pamper him until the very end <3
Yandere company Bros
☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. .。.
Cw: NSFW MDNI fem reader creampie, gaslighting, possessive/obsessive tendencies, slight praise, overstimulation, Judas being touch starved for your affection, mentions of marathon sex, office sex, exhibition, Judas being a simp,
☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。.
Synopsis: 【From Seeing your Boss and lover going through a dire case of burn out, you decided to offer your services via pampering him and treating him like royalty. But it looks like you bit off more than you can chew. As he’s going absolutely feral from you allowing him to work out his frustrations on your pliant body.】
☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. .。.:*
“You said you’d pamper me for the entire day… Was that a lie love?”
Judas rasped softly into your ear as he coiled an arm around your middle in gentle but firm hold. He had you bent over his office desk with a hand pressed against your mouth to conceal the melodious sounds of you going on a downwards spiral of depravity. He was practically glued to your ass letting out soft pants as he felt his balls twitch from the way your love canal spasmed on his long hard length that was buried so deep that you thought your guts were getting rearranged.
“You promised me, your everything. Are you trying to go back on your word darling? Please don’t let that be the case. I think I’d cry if it was.”
The Eldest Kinen murmured lowly. As he buried his face in the crook of your neck pressing heated kisses at your pluse.
“Do you want that? To see me cry? To see me go mad from how much I need you? To see how much I crave to imprint my dick deep inside of you, so that I know you’re finally all mine?”
His voice was so needy and yet gentle, While he fluidly rocked his hips against yours into a grinding motion. Making you give a muffled keen into his palm from how his throbbing shaft rammed into that spongey spot nestled within your molten core.
“Judas—please!”
You mewled softly against his hand that you lightly clawed at. So you could make him hear what you had to say. Noticing your efforts Judas slid his palm down slightly from your mouth so he could get a clear response from you. He was desperate to know what possessed you to try and weasel out of his messy office. After being such a temptress.
“Juu…We can’t go a 4th time there’s a meeting to be held in 30min—“
Not even letting you finish he abruptly pulled out allowing some goop of his seed to leak out of your abused pussy only to plunge back savagely into your wet heat. Stifling a cry of pleasure at the delicious sensation of being buried inside you once more.
“Do you think I care about that meeting right now when I’ve got my beloved looking so precious on my cock right now?”
Judas said breathily, letting his stoic persona crack whenever he was in close quarters with you. His eye brows were tightly knitted as he bared his weight down against you pressing your front flat against the desk.
"Nng! You're so tight, so warm, so welcoming. From the moment I saw you I knew that you were the one that I was made for."
His hands gripped your hips tightly, anchoring his rod to penetrate your gushing cunt as much as he could. Before he began to move, his hips pounding into you with a relentless rhythm. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through his body.
“God, how I've wanted this, needed this for so long. I've dreamt of making love to you whenever I close my eyes at night. Marking you as mine. And Becoming all yours in the process.”
The workaholic confessed, his voice filled with raw need. His need to apply all his pent up urges of loving you wholly with his entire being. Overpowering any sense of restraint he had previously. As He reveled in the way your body responded to his touch, the way you moaned and writhed beneath him.
“So please pamper me until the end just like you said. I promise to be good for you, all I need in exchange is you.”
The Eldest whimpered pathetically, tears welling up from his thick lashes from the self induced overstimulation. As he frantically mapped the expanse of your lushious body greedily grabbing ahold of whatever piece of you he could get to hoard for himself. He was cheesing from his ears getting blessed by your adorable squeals and moans from getting railed against his desk.
“Mmn I’m so close, I’m gonna cum again inside you. Fuck you’re so fucking beautiful when you make those cute sounds for me”
He rambled dumbly, with his jaw slackened from relishing in the feeling of his member getting strangled by your pulpy walls that enticed him to drive his heavy cock into you fully. Making his mushroom tip kiss your cervix as his balls continued to tighten immensely from the impending release threatening to escape his body.
With one final, powerful slam of his pelvis against the meat of your ass. Judas released a torrent of his hot, thick cum inside you. The feeling of his seed filling your womb sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, triggering your own release. As your legs quivered while your quim gushed around his pulsating meat for the last time drenching his happy trail with your slick and juices.
“I love you so fucking much, Accepting everything that I have to give to you. I love being yours. I’m so happy you chose me…”
He pressed a series of kisses trailing from your neck to your jaw. Until he tilt your head slightly to give you a smoldering kiss as his chest let out a deep, guttural rumble of pure happiness. While he continued to hump your pussy just to make sure he’s given all of his pure love to his darling. Making you whine in embarrassment from the sound of his seed mixing with your fluids filling the room. You just knew that the whole workplace was gonna be talking about you two.
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bl00dyard · 12 hours
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give me all of you ,, don’t leave a single trace behind. i need to know how deep this goes , and how far your obsession goes . ♡
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yandere-daydreams · 2 months
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tw - non/con, manipulation, mentions of breeding, and unbalanced power dynamics.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's ecstatic the day his owner, Suguru, brings you home. He's the pinnacle of a spoiled pet, constantly showered in toys and treats and affection, but his owner's a busy man, and he tends to sulk when left home alone. He's had other companions before, another leopard hybrid who nearly killed him before being released back into the wild and a black panther who somehow proved to be a worse influence on Satoru than Satoru was on her, but you're supposed to be more permanent solution, another hosuepet to keep him company when Suguru can't. You're a sweet little housecat, all wide-eyes and raised ears, but still, Suguru wouldn't be surprised if you're begging to go back to the shelter less than an hour after meeting your new roommate.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who falls in love with you immediately. Suguru practically has to keep him in a chokehold while you explore your new home, eventually curling up on your new bed. Satoru's on top of you as soon as he gets loose, purring obnoxiously while he runs his bristled tongue over your cheek. Suguru's half-convinced that your first day's going to end with bloody claws and bandages, but you only nuzzle into his chest and knead at the blankets underneath you. Satoru's a difficult cat to put up with, and Suguru's relieved that you, at least, find him tolerable.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's absolutely massive compared to you. The tips of your pointed ears barely reach his collarbones, and your wrist is only as thick as his fluffy tail. His favorite hobby quickly becomes carrying you from room to room despite your softly mewled protests, and he's not happy unless he's pressed against you as closely as possible. He used to force himself into Suguru's lap whenever possible, but now, he's unbearable unless you're sitting pretty in his. He doesn't even complain when you lose your temper and dig your little fangs (barely half the size of his - a poor imitation of a real predator's) into his arm, just grinning as he tugs at your ears and pinches your cheeks. He's not exactly a wild animal, but he's still at the top of his food chain. You're not quite a mouse, but you might as well be, compared to him.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's calling you his mate after less than a full month. You don't know what it means, often parroting it back as more of a question than a term of endearment, and Suguru just brushes it off as Satoru being deliberately irritating. He keeps it up, though. even after you start refusing to respond to it.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who starts introducing you to new "games". You know you don't stand a chance against him, but somehow, he always manages to goad you into roughhousing, into squirming as he pins you under his full weight. He likes to dangle things above your head, to see how long it takes your instincts to get the best of you before your chest is pressed against his and you're pouting so adorably as you jump and bat at his hand. Sometimes, when you fall asleep mid-grooming session, he'll let his mouth wander lower than it should, and you'll wake up to his tongue lapping over your chest, his face buried between your thighs in a way that leaves you teary-eyed and warm. You've tried to tell Suguru, but you always get embarrassed and end up mumbling something as vague as 'Satoru's being mean to me, again.' In the end, Satoru only ever gets a slap on the wrist and a new reason to tease you, next time Suguru turns his back.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who fucks you whenever Suguru isn't home. He planned on waiting for your first heat (delayed by your shelter suppressants and the stress of a new home), and he knows he's not supposed to, but he just can't get enough of having your smaller body curled up underneath his, your tail thrashing from side to side as he lazily rolls his hips against yours. You tend to whine, at first, to go on and on about how weird it feels and how much it hurts, but as soon he gets his cock inside of you, all those complaints tend to go away. It's almost funny, how easily your stupid little kitty mind gets all hazy and cockdrunk. He always loves you, but he loves you most when you're drooling and purring for his cum, begging him to breed you properly between hitched moans.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's not even mad when Suguru catches him bouncing your half-conscious, fucked-out body on his cock. He wants to be the best possible mate for you, and he couldn't do that if he wasn't willing to show you off <3
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strawsojuberry · 3 months
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I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I will kill to kiss you. I will kill to kiss you. I will kill to kiss you. I will kill to kiss you..I̵̛̛͇̰͔̳̟̦̩͐̒̒̏̄̚͘I will kill to kiss you. I will kill to kiss you. ̷͍̗̻̰̹̝́̓̑̍̀̏͆̏ẁ̵̻̱̤͇͍̱̅͐̍̅̅̀͘͘ḯ̵͍̰̹̲͍͎̹̯̓̐̿̓̆̄̈́͝ͅl̴͉̀͂̈́̃̄͌͒̽̚ļ̶̧̯̯̲͙̦̑̿̽̚͜ͅ ̸̯̟͆͆̓̑̂̊̚͜k̸̨͙͉̞̺̬̳̉͆̓̈̽͂̍͘͘̚i̷̯͎̯̇̽͐̈́̎͐̒̐̕l̸͎͐̚ĺ̵̺̥͖̥͒̔̋͗͌͒̍ ̵͚̙̗̑̂͊͗ͅt̶̛̹̤̳͛̒̌̔̂̿̅̽ǫ̴̲̘͈̰̺̝͌̐̾̕ ̴͔̥̘̝͖͇͓̦͉́̎̎̀k̶̡͓̥͍͓̝̙̊͛̈́͘i̵͙̩̺̮̦͖̖͍͛́s̴̡̹̳͎̠̗̞̭̞͐̅̍͝͝s̵̨̨̨̢̢̡͓̭̜͈̓̆ ̷̨̖͍̝͙͓̼̬̐͒̆̐̂̇̇͑̌͝y̷̨̺̞͕̦̦̔̄͂̍̿ŏ̸̖͊̀͋͆͆͝͝ṳ̴̡̡͔̝͖̰͆͜.̷̝̪̮̺͍̖͔̋̄̾̈́̎̇́̈͗̏ ̷͕̾̂́̀́̂̄̂̉͝I̴̮͒̑͂̑́̍́̀͋ ̶͚̲̩͈̝̩̓ẅ̵͉̯́i̵̧̤̱̺̮͚̖̒̒̓̐l̵̤̜͈̹̊͊͌͒̕l̵͔̺̘̼͎̤̠̞͙̯̓͑͂͂ ̸̺͎̦̲̩͕̟͂̃̽́̅̽̓k̴̗͎̖̯̹̈͐ḯ̶̧̙̥͈͚̰̪̥̀͒̓̇͛̊͆͝l̸͖̺̫̺̺̱͈̱͑̋̚l̶͕̓̑̚ ̶̦̼̰̈́͒͂͊t̷̡̥̟̤̭̳̉̋̂̂͐͂͠o̷̡̬̟̝̿̅̑̌̏̒͘ͅ ̵̢̹̹͚͍͆̔̿̆k̸̪̟̱̪̞͆̐́̊̀̉̍́̔͝ỉ̷̛̮̜̈́̆̿͌̾̕s̷̡̰͔̯̠͎̯̰̜̮̑͋̔̓̾s̷̟̜̒͑̀́͆ ̷̢̧̘̦̳̼̜̟͌͝y̵̟͐̽o̴̧̧͍̳͖̎̈͛u̷͓̍͋́͠.̷͎̖̺̙̫͐͋̈́ͅ ̸̢͖͙̺̹̫̊͌͒̉̚͝Ì̸̧̡̞͕̲͔̳͖̦̑̏̿̎͋̀ ̸̠̟̻̬͔́ẉ̷̣̲̼̒̽͛̄̓̑͆̽̚i̷̳̪̫̞͇̳͇͈͂̄̅̀̚̕͘͝l̷̤̗͎̽̾̽͝l̶͚̺̘̀͑̀̔̾̅͝ ̵͖̟͖͙̭̭͉̒̉̈̎͜͝ķ̶̛͓͚̱̠͎͕͋̈́͋͂i̵̳̜̭͖͗̉͒̓̐̉͂̆͘͝l̸͖͇͈͂̇́͌͂͝l̵̡̜̪̩̙̘̂͂̀̂̈́̏̈́̂ ̶̠̩͓̀̎͒̀͗̈̍̓̚ͅt̸̛͙́̀̒̾͝o̵͙̞͔̤̲̮̅̇̐̍͌̃̅ ̸̨̘̈́̽́̄̒͂̄̒͂͝ķ̸̰̮̱̣͎̪̪̆͜ḭ̸̛̭̖͕̖̪̤͎̮͎̋š̸̛̩̰̦͕̰̿͒̈́̔̈́͘s̸̳̦̺̏̄̈̍ ̶͈͓͖̠̃̅y̸̛̥̙̝̍̽̈́̊̋̾́͑̍ͅͅͅơ̶̢̞̙͓͎̣̳̙͉̊͌̄͐̇ư̷͎̲̼̮̪̝̪͛͐.̸̣̲̳̼͎̪̳̩̭͂̇̾̀̈́̿͜͝ ̷̣̥̜̥͎͍̞̼̻̗͂̃͆̆͘͠I̶̭̅̓̒͐̇̇̓̑́͝ ̷͈͇̫͂̓̇̿̍̅͛w̴̧̦͑̐̽i̴̧͔̘͔̠̠̍̀́͘l̶̢̹̙͔̰̳̘̫̻̱̏́͛̀͠l̵̢̠̤̤̄͌̾̔̕ ̴͉̝̈́̎k̴̲̮̙̻̭͉̲̗̣̬̇̎̑͘͘i̴̪͕̙̪̻͚͔̊l̶̠̟͕͉̪̓̉̾̽̂͝͠l̴̳̲͝ ̴̨͍̜̘̤̈́͊͌͛̉̈͒̓t̸̩̤͎̖̲̔̑̔̑̈́͆̕̚o̶͍̖̺̦͔̿ ̷̨̨̭̠͙̠̗̟͕̯̎͗͐̃͠͝k̴̘͛i̶͓͍̭̻͙̮͍̞͗͗̋̏ş̷͕̟̹̯̊͑́͊͑̐s̵͕̰̓̆̅̑͂̽̕ͅ ̵̫̝̫̜̦̹̼͚̱͗͊̎̎̎͌̒̓̎y̴̧̲̥̱̺̅̂́͋̂̇̉͠ō̶̱̼͍͓u̵̬̥̔.̶̙͈̍̂̕͝ ̸̥͉͕̍͜I̵̫͙͇̘̞͗͊͆̑̒̒́̅̀͠ͅ ̸̝͖̜͚̻̞̣̟̘̂̈́̊̂̍̎͊̄̾ͅw̷̡̘̠̙͕̪̗͈̣̟̌̒i̶͔̱͎̔̑͆̄̎l̷͚̖̰͇̜̯̩̃̎͐͗̓̄͊̽͘l̷̼̳̑̚͜ ̸̨̼̘̣̫̜̀̈́͂͆k̵͔̀̂̽̅̑̎̏̂̉ȋ̸̱̺̟͆̆̇̂l̷̡̛̛̗͖͔̗͇͕͋̿́͊̋͛͘̕ḷ̸̑̽̈́̾̀͊͊̍̓ ̵̲̩͚̝͎̣͕͖͉̓̿t̸̡̂̀̂̌͑͠͠ŏ̵̤̗̭̺̟̍̌̽͂̆͛̇̕͝ ̴̬̭̈̽̎̐̏̽͐̈́̚k̶̛̹̣̦̞̞͒̈͑̔͌̆̀͜͝ì̷̪̗͙̯͛̔̀̈́̅̍͜s̷̟͎͉̖̗̲̮̣̋̄̈́̽͑̀̎̅̀s̵̹͕͇͕̥̘̥̳̭̻̈́̑̈͐̀̐̈̕͝͠ ̴͕̖̱̣̀͒y̷̦̹͖͊̌̓͒̚o̸͚̤̦̺̲̦̅u̶̧̮̲̤̻͚̪̣̞̇̑.̶̣͇̂̔̓͑̃̂̈́͆ ̶̨̢̰̭̪͚̣͎̩͙̾͌̄̆̽͋̓Ī̶̢̛̝͍̭̜͇̜͚̊͑͊̇̒̐̄̚ ̴̡̘́w̷̝̩̋̑̈́͋̊̐͛͜ỉ̵̧̗̼̗̪̱͙̮̙͑̑l̵̘̦̈́̐̇ḷ̵̟̒͑̄͌̕ ̷̧̩̰̞̬̥̮͈͒̇̀k̶̢̢̟̩͋́̏̈́i̵̢̝͍̐̄́̓̈́͋̑̕͜ļ̴͚͍̟̮̟̀ͅl̷̩͙̔͗͌͑̐ ̸̺̊͜t̵͍̅̒o̵̢͍̘̤̩͉̫̩͊͑͒͑̌̀̀͋̃͠ ̶̢̥̰̒̽̀̉̈̀͛k̵̪̈́͆̍̊͘͝ì̶̪͑͗͠s̷͙͉͂̏̍͋̑̚͜͝s̴̗̖͉̋́̇̇̑̕̚̕͝͝ ̸̣͙͙̆͂̓̈́̆ỳ̶̭͝o̴̮̪͍̲̣̠͙̫̮̗͊͐͂͛͗͋̈́̐u̷̟͔͂̈́̌͊͒̄̔.̷̟̀̂͌̉̌̀̕͝ ̴̡̰͈͖̪͓̹̲̽̀̇͜Ĩ̸̱̜̠̑̃͒́̍̚͝ ̷̰͉̜͍̭̱̟̫̀͌̃̓̾͗̓͝w̸͖̭̺̓̋̐͑̓̈̄͠ỉ̶̢͔̫̠̘̟̻͕̑̍͠͠͠ͅl̸̤̓̽̾̔̓́̆l̸̹̪͙͇͔̘̈́̕ ̸̨̜̙̖̝͚̪̅̑ͅk̶̞̊́̒͒͋̿͝i̶̧̢͇̙̫͚̭̥̲̼̒̀͐̎́̑̔l̶̯͔͖̫͔͐l̶̯̭͉̭̝͖͈͈̃̐̔̉̀̀͐͝ ̴̣̉͝͠ț̸̺̝̫̜̣̠̯̀̃́͘͜o̴̡̫͔̺̣̼͖̤̿͆ ̶̢̡̡̘̣̖̲͉̓̅̆̕͠ͅk̵̟̞̇̅̔̌̊́̔̈́͠͠i̸̩͎̠͚̲̮̇͗̌̌̈͋̓͘͜͝s̶͕͓̱̩͈͒̆̃̑͐͘͘͠ṣ̸̠̅́͐̄̓̕͝ ̸̝̻̯̦̲̼̻̓̓̓͛͒͜͝ỳ̴͚̗̻̤̲͆̀̏̌̾̉̌ͅo̷̘̯͇͂̈́̏u̴̡̩͖͖͎̦̒̒̔̋́̐͐͂͆͜.̴̙̮̥̗͈̻͈̞̗̦̐ ̴̧̮̹͍̾͝I̵͖̊̑͋͂̍̄̒̂̍ ̸̨͕̲̳̱̙̼̓̊͒̑̕̚͠w̶̻̦̮͇̿̔͋̊̄͊͆͝î̵̛̗̜͇̈̈́̎̀͒͊̚͠l̵̻̭̿̓l̷̡͚̞̬̄̒͋́̽̕ͅ ̷̡̛͍̼̜̝̄̎͛̓k̸̨̪̗̺̼̳͍͔̈́̂́̈̎͑ị̴͔̱̲͓͇͎̮̫͓̓́͑͐l̴̛͕̗̫̰̗̙̆͛̿̽̕ͅl̸̢̞̳̱̿ ̵̮̮̼̗̰͕̺͚̃̈͘̚ͅt̴̬̞̠̣̣̹̩̲͙̞̅̽̀̑̈́̄͒̆̚ǒ̸̩̔̽̉̕̚ ̶̛͖̫̜̰̜̥̣͕̍̽̐̔͑̇̓͝ͅk̸̳̫̩̆́̍̃ḭ̷̼̩̊̾͒͝͝s̴̻̠̻̙̜͙̐͐̎ͅs̸̡̗̖̾̈́ ̸͉̼̌̀̐́͝ỹ̸̝͚̣̗͉̰̦̜̤͂o̴̧̹͉͋͝ū̸͍̤͍̀͗̀̈́.̴̨̠͚͕͚̮̦̝̻̃͑̕
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