#shapeshifter reader

[heartfullofleeches]

"Spouse" Reader: Honey, I want to change myself for the better. For us. I've been on the phone with a therapist and I'm taking you out to your favorite restaurant this evening.

Yan: Darling...

-

Shapeshifter Reader: I... I'm sorry for deceiving you.... For once, I just wanted to know what it's like to be accepted by a human.. I stole your beloved's face.... I am a monster

Yan: I know.

Shapeshifter Reader: You...know?

Yan: Soon as the word "therapist" left your mouth I knew you weren't them. I honestly planned on murdering them when they returned from that 'business trip', but then you came along and I fell in love for real this time.

Shapeshifter Reader: Ah....

Yan: Also, humans don't usually purr when we're excited-

Shapeshifter Reader: ...You don't?-

[sleepytopia]

Hello!!! I was hoping you write about shoji x reader with a shapeshifting quirk, is a prankster in the class, while secretly being the emotional support animal (reader thinks there being slick, but everyone knows)

a/n : This is so heartwarming<3 I need to make another fic of this after cause I freaking love this and love shojiiii !!!

Soft Shapes & Secret Comforts

Mezou Shouji x reader

Summary: Reader’s a shapeshifter and certified class prankster, using their quirk for chaos—but secretly doubles as the emotional support animal of Class 1-A. Reader thinks no one knows it’s them sneaking into rooms to cuddle or calm their classmates down in disguise... but Shoji has known the whole time. And he's in love.

You were the chaos agent of Class 1-A. If something strange was happening, 9 times out of 10—it was your fault.

Mineta waking up with frog legs? You.

Kirishima’s hair turning a soft baby blue for half a day? Also you.

Bakugou yelling bloody murder because his gauntlets were filled with glitter? Definitely you.

But while everyone teased you for your shapeshifting antics and pranks, no one suspected what else you did at night. Not when you took on the form of a sweet housecat and curled up beside a crying Mina after a rough mission. Not when you disguised yourself as a dog and let Denki pet you after a breakdown. Not when you slipped into the common room as a sleepy, round-faced bunny and pressed against a shaking Todoroki’s leg during a thunderstorm.

You thought you were so slick. But Mezo Shoji? He’d known since the very first time.

You were perched on the couch one morning, all innocent and smiley, watching Iida panic over his missing glasses (they were on his head). Shoji entered the room, silently sipping his protein shake, all six arms relaxed as he watched the morning madness unfold.

“Morning, Shoji!” you chirped, legs kicked up over the armrest. “You sleep okay?”

He didn’t answer at first—just looked at you for a moment too long, then smiled under his mask.

“I did,” he said slowly, voice low. “The cat helped.”

You froze.

“…what cat?” you said, too quickly.

Shoji raised a brow. “The one with your exact eyes,” he said, tone perfectly calm. “The one who lets everyone hold them when they cry.”

You blinked. Opened your mouth. Closed it. “…oh.”

“And the bunny. And the fox. And the weird, lumpy creature you became when Bakugou punched a wall last week.”

“...that was a stress blob, okay.”

He laughed quietly. “You don’t have to hide it, you know.”

You shifted a little on the couch, shrugging. “I’m not hiding anything. Just doing what I can. I like making people feel better.”

“You do a good job,” he said softly. Then added, “You make me feel better too.”

Your heart hiccupped.

“…You mean that?”

Shoji nodded, walking over to stand behind you. One of his arms reached down—big palm cupping your cheek. He was so gentle it made your chest ache.

“I’ve always known it was you. But I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to stop.”

You leaned into his hand, smiling just a little. “You’re way too soft for someone with six arms and muscles like that.”

“Would it help if I pranked Mineta later?”

“Only if I get to help.”

He chuckled again—and then, softly, leaned in closer. His voice dropped to a low, warm whisper: “You can sneak into my room next time, you know. You don’t have to shift. Just be you.”

And for once— The class prankster, chaos shapeshifter, and unofficial emotional support animal— Was speechless.

Later that night, he found you asleep on his bed. In your real form.

And Shoji just smiled and curled all six arms around you, holding you like you were the softest, safest thing in the world.

Because to him… you were.

© sleepytopia do not copy, translate, or plagiarize any of my works

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

HELLO!!! i have a request for a platonic Crowley and Aziraphale x fem!reader with she/they pronouns 😄 if you know Nimona, then thats what i want the reader to be like. theyre a spunky, immortal, young teenager anarchist who can shapeshift and has unnaturally coloured eyes and hair. one day they find the two (husbands), and kinda just stays, so Crowley and Aziraphale accept their fate!! i dont mind if you decide to include a smudge of angst (or a shit ton whatever you prefer, but im impartial to both, so do with that what you will,) because after the newest season, i cant get enough of it.

many thanks!!

Oh! I haven't seen the movie but I know about Nimona!

......

You met Aziraphale and Crowley in 537 AD, encountering them by pure chance.

At first you intimidate them as a dragon, thinking they were two hapless knights who lost their way back to their kingdom..

Until you saw Crowley's snake eyes, and you realize he's not human at all.

"You there...I like your eyes.....are you another shapeshifter?"

"...um..nope." The demon in black armor looks incredibly confused, especially at this dragon talking to him. "Don't know what gave you that idea.."

"Well technically he is." The white knight adds on, smiling nervously. "You see, my erm..."rival" here is something of a serpent who was sent to-"

"Shut it, Angel. This beast doesn't need our lifestory! Now if you could kindly excuse us, o' great dragon, we have to discuss-"

"Hate to break it to you, but....I'm not actually a dragon."

"Then what are you exactly? You...said something about "shapeshifting" before, didn't you?"

To answer Crowley's question, you transform into a young human clad in knight armor, taking off your helmet to reveal your unnaturally-colored eyes and hair, smiling. "Bingo."

The pair are quite impressed, so they have no reason to hide the fact they were an angel and demon.

You explained how you've had these shapeshifting powers for a long time, being on the run since everyone thinks you're a "cursed child" or some monster that was once banished, wanting nothing more than to drive a sword through your heart.

When it's clear that neither Aziraphale nor Crowley have any intentions of hurting you....that's when you decided to stick with them.

It took them 20 years to realize you never aged, learning you're an immortal being in a teenager's body.

Your powers allow you to keep up with the times, disguising yourself as animals, people...or even angels and demons if your heart so desired.

Sometimes you'll turn into a snake much like Crowley's own snake form (although your scales have the color of your hair, ofc, so you're not 100% identical).

You haven't mastered turning just your head into a snake, however.

In the modern era, you enjoy being a nightingale after learning they were both fond of those birds, often singing in the bookshop out of boredom.

Although Crowley's fully aware you're not a demon, you got a spunky and rebellious personality and love getting up to mischief.

And he 100% encourages this (while poor Aziraphale's practically begging you to stay out of trouble).

But you're definitely on the angel's side anytime he compliments Crowley, who just snarls and denies ever doing something "nice" or "good".

You don't believe he's all that evil for even a moment.

While you're aware that they have to act like they despise each other bc they're on opposite sides...in your eyes, they behave so much like an old married human couple.

Aziraphale emphasizing "our car" when talking about the Bentley made you roll your eyes and joke about when the wedding's gonna start.

When Aziraphale returns to Heaven without Crowley, you realize that maybe your "marriage jokes" went a bit too far...even though neither of them blame you for their falling out.

Still, you feel bad bc you can tell Crowley was genuinely in love with him.

You overheard everything, and after his "no nightingales" remark, you're reluctant to shapeshift into one again out of fear of upsetting him.

Yet he asks you, too, as he couldn't bear the silence in the bookshop anymore...and listening to any of Aziraphale's music records would've been too painful for him.

You obliged, staying perched on his shoulder as he stared out the window for hours...hoping that his angel would come back to him.

You hoped so, too, waiting everyday by his side...until the end of time if you had to.

[petitelepus]

¡Hi! What do you think about a DD story of Sanemi x female reader where the reader has powers to change shapes? Like she transforms into anything or a monster?

Summary: Sanemi is sent to find a missing guild member and take down a dangerous beast. Well, he found them both.

Warnings: Cursing

A/N:  Reader, Female Reader, Sanemi Shinazugawa, D&D

Sanemi was staring at the guild's board, looking for a job that could offer him a challenge and quench his thirst for some action.

The young man frowned as it looked like there were only some minor quests, such as collecting some herbs or helping some farmers, but there was nothing that could make his heart beat with excitement.

"Shit, do I really have to stoop low enough to gather some herbs?" He growled quietly by himself when suddenly a guild lady who was responsible for keeping up with the jobs and such approached him and pinned a new job on the board.

"Oi, give me that!" Sanemi snapped as he quickly grabbed the flier and looked at it.

'Dangerous Beast Detected In Shady Forest' it read and as Sanemi looked at the quick sketch of the monster, he could feel himself getting excited.

"Ah, I see you're interested?" The guild lady nodded, and Sanemi grinned, "Hell yes I am!"

"Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"The amount of money you get from this job isn't as big as you may have gotten used to...?"

"I don't give a shit about money," Sanemi scoffed and the lady smiled, "That's good because this job is very urgent."

"Why so?"

"A new member of Slayers went missing around that area a couple of days ago, just before the beast was detected."

So there was someone, one of the Slayers, out there in danger? They might as well be mincemeat already, but if Sanemi had a chance to rescue them then he would take that chance.

"So it's in the Shady Forest?"

"That is right."

"Great, I'm heading out then!" Sanemi waved as he turned his back to the guild lady and left the Slayer's base. He looked at the drawing again before tucking the piece of paper into his pocket.

Shady Forest wasn't that far from the city, but it was famous for harboring some fierce and sometimes mysterious monsters. It took Sanemi a couple hours to make it there on foot, and not a moment later.

The Shady Forest was worthy of its name. As soon as you stepped inside, you were swallowed by shadows as the sun couldn't breach the thick leafage above. There was just enough light that one could see, just like on a very cloudy day, only this one never cleared up.

Sanemi frowned as he looked around, trying to locate the missing Slayer or the monster, but the forest was as eerie as it was rumored to be.

"Where the fuck could they be...?" He grumbled quietly after an hour of searching and looking around... But then he noticed something gleaming under the leaves and he bent down to investigate.

There was a book on the ground? Sanemi frowned as he picked up the book and flipped it open. It looked old and well-read, but what caught his attention were the claw marks on the cover.

"Shit, this must have belonged to that newbie...!"

Sanemi was mad. Sure, he wanted some excitement, but he also wanted to save the newbie. Maybe they were still alive? There was no blood around the area where he found the book so changes were that its owner might still be alive and kicking.

"Grrr....!"

Sanemi immediately jumped back and pulled out his twin blades that were blessed by Wind, as a huge creature stepped out of the bushes and showed itself to the young man.

A Ramphera, a huge feline monster black as night, with huge curved ram's horns and claws so sharp they can cut through steel.

"No way...! A Ramphera...!" Sanemi's eyes widened as he stared at the monster and he grinned almost manically, "No way, this is way too good to be true...!"

It really was, he was burning to fight and slay this monster. Experience had taught him that the first one attacking usually got the upper hand so he bounced at the monster, twin blades drawn and he brought them down-!

The Ramphera growled as it bounced sideways, but Sanemi was quick as the wind and quickly changed his attack route and brought his blades down, cutting the beast's front leg and being the first one to draw blood.

"Tch, come at me!" Sanemi shouted as he flicked his bloody blade. The beast growled and the young man prepared himself for one of the famous headbutts...

But instead of bouncing at him with its huge horns, the Ramphera just prowled around him, alerted now that blood was drawn.

Fine by Sanemi, he would go at it if the monster wouldn't, but just as he was about to attack, the Ramphera turned around and took off running.

"Oi, wait up, I'm not done with you yet!" The young man snapped as he quickly ran after the beast, but as he ran he realized that something was wrong.

These felines were known for being fierce and aggressive so what the fuck was this one doing? Why would it just appear and run off without even attempting to kill the young man?

Sanemi frowned. Something was wrong and he was going to find out what.

He followed the monster all the way to a cave and he figured that it must have been its nest. That's when he had an idea. That beast's cave was most likely the place where he could find the missing Slayer, taken if they were alive.

"Oi!" Sanemi snapped as he looked inside the dark cave and he frowned, but just as he was about to shout out again, he heard a voice.

"G- Go away!"

So there was a survivor there! But why were they refusing his help?

He knew that going into the beast's cave without any source of light, fire, or light magic, but there was a person there!

"I'm coming in!" Sanemi warned as he entered the cave. It was too dark for him to see but suddenly it got brighter and he realized there was a small source of light deep inside the cave.

The young man ground his teeth as he approached the light and finally, he saw a young woman hunched over a small ball of light that was no doubt made with magic. It was you.

"Oi, are you the missing Slayer?" Sanemi asked as he approached the woman cautiously. The Ramphera might have been close by and as much as he wanted to hunt the beast, saving human life came first.

"It's dangerous here, so we gotta get out-!" He was saying but you smacked his hand away, "Go away!"

"Are you stupid!?" Sanemi snapped as he reached forward and forcefully grabbed your wrist, "Get up and-!"

"Ouch!" You cried out and the man's eyes widened as he let go of your hand and he looked down, realizing that his palm was soaked in blood.

"What the-!?" He looked at you, worried that Ramphera had gotten you, but then he watched eyes wide as you turned shape and suddenly there was the Ramphera before him and not a human woman.

"Shit...!" He reached for his blades, but then he noticed the beast's bleeding front leg and he connected the spots, realizing what was happening.

"Fuck..." Sanemi growled, "You're a shapeshifter, right?"

The beast growled and despite the obvious danger before him, the young man raised his twin blades and showed them to the beast before dropping them on the ground.

"Look, I'm unarmed," He frowned as he kicked his blades towards the Ramphera, "So don't maul me or something."

The creature stared at the blades and the young man... Until, finally, it hung its head in submission. Sanemi sighed as he lowered his arms, an action that made the beast flinch and he frowned, "I'm not hurting you, I'm just getting my blades...!"

The Ramphera watched him carefully as he picked his blades and put them away, and once the weapons were in their holsters, the beast relaxed notably.

"Now, turn back to human," Sanemi ordered and the feline hung its head even lower and the man frowned, "What the Hell, turn back!"

The beast made a pathetic sound from the back of its throat. The young man frowned as he waited, tapping his leg against the ground, but nothing.

"Hurry up, or else-!" He was saying when a stupid idea popped into his mind, "Don't tell me...? You don't know how to turn back?"

The Ramphera let out a sad noise and Sanemi slammed his palm over his face. Of course, just his luck.

"Great, just fucking great...!" He cursed under his breath and then sighed as he reached for his bag for some medical supplies he always carried with him.

"Give me your leg," The young man ordered as he offered his hand to the beast, who quietly did as told and Sanemi pressed the disinfectant pad against the wound-!

The Ramphera let out a loud squeak that didn't fit the beast, but it certainly fit the young woman it turned into.

"It hurts!" You cried out as you tried to pull your arm free, but the young man's hold on you was strong like steel.

"Quit whining, you're a Slayer!" Sanemi snapped as he pressed the pad harder against your wound, trying his best to clean it before he would bandage it.

He quickly added, "You are a Slayer, aren't you?"

"Yes...?" You whimpered pitifully as the man pulled the bloody pad away, took out some gauze, and started to wrap it around your wound.

"Are you the one that went missing?"

"Missing?" You tilted your head, "But I've been here the whole time?"

"That counts, dummy!" Sanemi snapped as he finished tying your wound, "There, good as new."

"Will... Will it leave a scar? You asked as you looked at your bandaged arm from different points of light.

"What if it does?" The young man rolled his eyes, "Just use some healing magic if you don't want a reminder of our meeting."

"But I don't know any healing magic?" You frowned and he shot you a glare, "You gotta know some magic, don't you!?"

"But I don't!"

"Then what the fuck is this light!?" Sanemi snapped as he pointed at the small shiny ball of magic floating next to you guys, "Or what do you call this as!?"

"It's a nightlight!" You protested, "Everyone knows that much magic that they can create a nightlight!"

"Tch!" He didn't know even that much, "What about your transformation?!"

"What about it?"

"How do you turn into other creatures? That's magic, right?"

"It's not as simple as magic!"

"Don't call magic simple when you can't even cast a minor healing spell!"

"It's not magic!" You snapped, "It's druidism!"

"So nature magic!"

"It's not-!" You pouted as you fumed quietly, "It's not magic magic...!"

"Fine, let's drop the whole ass magic subject!" Sanemi was just about done, "You turn into animals and other things, right?"

"Yes, but-!"

"But what?!"

"I might be a shapeshifter, but that doesn't mean I'm good at it!" You cried out desperately, "I don't even know how to turn back properly once I transform!"

"Shit..." Sanemi felt like he was being pranked and some guild members would pop out around the corner to laugh at him.

...He wasn't that lucky.

"So you're a shapeshifter that doesn't even know how you transform?"

"Right," You nodded and he frowned as he thought about all that had happened until this moment.

"If my gut is right, you turn back when you get hurt, huh?"

"I don't know!" You pouted, "I don't know what triggers my transformation and what undoes it... Mostly pain, I think..."

"And people at the guild know about you?"

You shrugged, "I'm not sure? Maybe the guild lady-?"

"Fuck! That wretched woman back at the guild could have told me you were a shapeshifter...!"

"It's not like I flaunt with that knowledge!" You snapped, frustrated with yourself and the subject. Sanemi glared at you, "That leads us to question why you even are here!?"

"For herbs!" You replied, as you reached for your bag "I came to pick up herbs, but something attacked me, I got scared and it triggered my transformation!"

Ah, not only was Shady Forest known for its monsters, but also its herbs, medical plants, and other rare or otherwise wanted flora.

"This must be yours then..." Sanemi grumbled as he pulled the book he had picked up earlier.

"That's my field journal!" Your eyes widened as you saw the book and quickly took it from the young man, "I take notes on herbs, their locations, and other stuff that mages, alchemists, or other people like that may need!"

"Then why the Hell you didn't return to the city once you got the herbs!?"

"This sounds like the start of a joke," You snorted a little, "A Ramphera walked into a city, and you can probably figure out the rest of the joke?"

"I can, "He nodded and you frowned, "That's why I've been sticking to herb gathering and such... I don't trust myself when against living beings that can trigger my transformation..."

"I can see why," Sanemi rubbed his eyes, feeling a headache approaching quickly.

"Why did you come here? Did the guild send you?" You asked and the young man nodded, "More or less... Some idiot must have seen you and mistaken you as actually a dangerous monster and alerted the guild."

"Ah, I see..." You sighed sadly, "Misunderstandings tend to happen when scary monsters and such are in question..."

"Or a bad shapeshifter...!"

"I'm not bad!" You snapped stubbornly, "I'm just not good at it yet!"

"Trust me, I know...!" Sanemi groaned but he couldn't leave you there. It would get dark soon and Shady Forest was way more dangerous during actual nighttime.

"Pack your stuff, I'm taking you back to the city."

"Really?" You smiled as you felt like a great weight had been lifted from your shoulders, "You will take me back?"

"That's what I was sent to do." He grunted as he got up and your smile just grew as you gathered your things and followed him outside

"Follow me, I'll take us out of here," Sanemi ordered and you nodded as you followed him all the way out of the Shady Forest.

As soon as you were out of the forest, you gasped for air like you had been submerged this whole time instead of hiding in a dark forest.

"Ah, fresh air! I thought I might never get to see or breathe it again!"

"You're being dramatic," Your savior rolled his eyes as you kept waking.

"I never got your name?" You asked all of a sudden and the young man grunted, "It's Sanemi. Sanemi Shinazugawa."

"The Sanemi Shinazugawa!?" You gasped out loud, "The same man who tamed Wind and harnessed it with his twin blades!?"

"Yeah, so what?" He scowled as he glared at you over his shoulder, but you were totally fangirling, "Oh God, I never guessed they would send you after me!"

"Well, count yourself lucky."

"Honestly, you're like a legend!"

The rest of the walk to the city was filled with your excited questions and Sanemi more or less answering to them. Finally, you made it to the city and he turned to look at you.

"Your wound is still fresh." He frowned as he pointed towards the hospital, "If you head to the healer quickly then you shouldn't get a scar-!"

"Nah nah, I think I'll keep this scar!" You laughed as you showed him your bandaged arm, "Not many can say they went against Sanemi Shinazugawa and got out alive!"

"Tch, you make it sound like I'm some sort of monster," Sanemi grunted, but he was secretly smiling inside.

"Well, still!" You smiled, "Thank you for helping me out! I would still be stuck in that forest without you!"

"You're welcome..."

"Well... I hope we see each other again at the guild?"

"Maybe..."

"Thank you one more time," You smiled as you turned to leave... But as you walked away, Sanemi got the feeling that he was letting something important leave and never to be seen again.

"Hold it!" He found himself shouting as he grabbed your upper arm and stopped you.

"What is it?" You blinked in confusion as you looked at him.

"I- I-!" He quickly came up with something, "I think it would be dangerous for you and others to let you go on your own out there!"

"Then what do you want me to do?" You frowned, "I can't stop adventuring!"

"Join my team!" Sanemi shouted, much to your and even his shock. Just what the fuck did he just say?!

"W- What!?" You were taken aback by his words and he nodded, "Form a team with me! I believe that we would both benefit it if we worked together!"

"Are you-?" You smiled, "Are you serious?"

"I never joke around!" He snapped and you cheered as you jumped and hugged him, "Thank you, thank you! I will be the best apprentice you can hope for!"

"Tch, enough...!" Sanemi growled as people started to look at your guys curiously, "Let's head to the guild and make our party official..."

"Yes!" You cheered and the two of you headed towards the guild together, a question popped into Sanemi's mind.

"What was your name again?"

You smiled, "Oh, pardon me, it's...!"

[animatorweirdo]

The guardian angel beneath the wolf's clothing

(Fingon x reader)

Fingon was meant to die that day by the Balrog's hand, but he survived thanks to his mysterious savior.

Warnings: mentions of death, burns, injuries, violence, blood, problems with eating. Fingon trying hard to figure out a secret.

-------------------------------

Fingon could remember it like it happened yesterday. 

He stood alone before Gothmog, the vicious captain of Morgoth and the lord of Balrogs. All of his men and guards lay dead around him. The smell of their blood and the smoke from the fire dominated his senses as he could barely stand up with his sword. He could hear the screaming of men and his kin as the dragons laid waste to them with their deadly fiery breath. Fingon was exhausted. After days of fighting and trying to breach Morgoth’s fortress, he barely had any strength left to continue the fight. He wanted, no– needed a moment to rest. However, that was not an option as he stood before the creature of darkness and fire, the very being that killed Feanor. 

The fiery demon cackled at his state, mocking his stance in the battle and offering mercy if he surrendered. His kin and forces lay scarce. They lost. However, the dark lord might show some mercy if he surrendered.

Wielding the pride of Noldor, Fingon refused, and the two ended up in a fierce battle. 

He fought with all of his strength. Though tired, he managed to conjure enough energy to dodge and strike when the opportunity arose. The chances of victory were low, but he refused to go down without a fight. If he was to die, he would at least take the demon to death with him.

He fought fearlessly, yet his singular focus on one foe caused him to overlook another balrog sneaking up from behind, trapping him in whips of flame. He cried out in pain as the flames bit and burned his flesh, rendering him against the ground, unable to move or escape its fiery grasp. 

Gothmog and his treacherous kin laughed in mockery. Fingon felt anger for such a dirty play in battle and fear when he saw Gothmog raise his dark axe, ready to strike him down. 

At that moment, he knew it was the end. Turgon and Maedhros were too far away to reach him in time. He couldn’t move or raise his sword. He was all alone. 

All the memories of his family and loved ones rushed through his mind, and he was filled with dread and sorrow. He did not wish to depart so soon, not after getting so close, but there was nothing he could do. At least he would be reunited with his beloved father in Mandos. 

He was ready to meet his death by Gothmog’s hands, but then, something bright caught his eye. It looked like a light— shining through the dark battlefield. 

Something blurred past him with incredible speed, latching onto Gothmog's face and pushing him away from the elf. The Balrog roared in surprise and pain, seizing the creature and hurling it right before Fingon. Startled, Fingon stumbled back as it landed with a harsh thud, yet he swiftly regained his composure and had a chance to see what stood before him.

Before him stood a magnificent white wolf, its growls resonating as it bared its teeth defiantly at the Balrog. Fingon found himself both baffled and surprised by its sudden appearance. The wolf's fur was nearly white as snow, and a fierce determination filled its eyes. It stood tall like Sauron’s werewolves, yet it did not behave like any of them. It was protecting him. 

Gothmog cursed the wolf as one of his eyes bled from the attack. The wolf roared and lounged at the balrog without fear. 

Fingon watched the battle unfold. The wolf was fast and used Gothmog’s size to its advantage, dodging his attacks and climbing to reach his weaker spots, lunging its teeth through his thick skin. Gothmog roared as he attempted to grab or shake the creature off his back. 

Fingon felt a flicker of admiration for the courageous beast. Unlike most creatures of the earth, it did not cower in fear before the lord of Balrogs. However, he could not help but feel fear and worry for the creature. It exhibited incredible swiftness, deftly evading Gothmog’s slashing claws and swinging axe. Yet, its resilience did not render it immune to the blistering flames emanating from Gothmog. Fingon could already discern burns beginning to mar its fur and muzzle.

Gothmog cursed in black speech. The balrog behind Fingon suddenly freed him from the whips of flames. Fingon found himself kneeling on the ground in agony, his armor seared and his wounds bleeding profusely. Fearfully, he watched as the balrog hastened to aid its lord.

The wolf reacted swiftly upon noticing the presence of the other balrog, evading its attempt to grab hold. It held its ground against the pair, though the odds shifted against it as the demons unleashed their weapons. The battle began to overwhelm the valiant creature.

Fingon watched, fear evident in his eyes. The wolf possessed the advantages of speed and quick reflexes, yet even these attributes couldn't level the playing field against two balrogs.

The wolf continued to dodge, seeking an opportunity to counterattack, but a powerful strike from the fiery whip landed on its back. The wolf cried out in pain as the force of the blow – tossed it to the ground. 

Fingon crawled back as the wolf slammed right in front of him. It tried to stand back on its feet, emitting silent growls and stumbling under the pressure of its wounds. The wound caused by the Balrog’s whip began to blister in one painful line across its back. Its once pristine white fur had turned gray from all the smoke and scorched from the numerous burns caused by Gothmog’s flames. Fingon’s heart twisted with poignant empathy.

Blood seeped from the beast’s mouth, a clear indication of having tasted the scalding blood of the balrog. Heavy breaths left its mouth as it tried to focus but quickly lost footing and fell back on its belly. 

Fingon reached out, his hand extending to make contact with the wolf's fur in a gentle gesture, hoping to dissuade it from engaging further in the hopeless fight. Instantly, the creature turned its attention toward him, causing Fingon to pause. Its eyes were keen and brimming with vitality, yet there was something else in them, like someone looking back at him. After seeing his reaction, the beast softened its gaze, which was surprising. 

Gothmog began to insult the beast, calling it an insolent mutt and mocking the pathetic attempt to save the elf’s life. He then began to describe how he would make Fingon watch as he ripped the wolf apart, ensuring it would be a long and painful death before he would take the elf’s life. 

The wolf released soft snarls before pushing its large head beneath Fingon’s arm. Fingon held onto the wolf’s fur in surprise as the wolf picked him up on its back with the surprising strength it still had despite its injured state. He was momentarily baffled and unaware of what the wolf was planning. 

Gothmog seemed to realize what the wolf was planning and quickly acted, swinging his large axe at them both. 

Jumping out of the way and avoiding the deadly throw of the gigantic axe, the wolf began to sprint away from the balrogs, running across the battlefield toward the hordes of orcs that surrounded them. 

Fingon felt hesitation and held on tight as the wolf slammed through the lines of orcs that tried to stop them. They were no match to the wolf’s strength and incredible resilience as it continued running, dodging and avoiding arrows sent on its way while carrying him on its back. It didn't take long for the wolf to reach the edge of the battlefield and streak across the land, distancing itself from Angband and the lost battle with the dark lord. 

The wolf continued running across the land, but Fingon could hear the quickening, labored breaths and sense the wolf's gradual deceleration. It was clear the wolf was getting exhausted. Fingon tried to ask the wolf to slow down since it had carried him far enough from the battlefield to consider it safe. However, the wolf ignored him for some reason. His eyes then caught the sight of Maedhros’s banners. Hope surged within him. He now understood why the wolf persisted in its determined journey—to lead him to his cousin's encampment.

As they got closer, the wolf suddenly tripped. Fingon fell from the wolf’s back and groaned hard from the impact as it stung all his wounds, but he brushed them off when he laid his concerned eyes on the wolf. 

It laid against the ground, unmoving and heavily breathing. Fingon crawled over to the beast. He settled beside it, his gaze locking with the wolf's weary eyes. The creature appeared scarcely conscious, undoubtedly from the exhaustion and the pain inflicted by the wounds and the burns that marred its body.

He laid his hand against the wolf’s head, careful not to touch any of its wounds. The wolf looked back at him. "Thank you—" He uttered, acknowledging that he wouldn't have survived to see another day if it weren't for its bravery and unwavering spirit. He allowed his fingers to move slowly, tenderly caressing and scratching the wolf's head. A faint whine slipped from the wolf's mouth, its tail wagging ever so slightly, briefly lifting the weight from his heart.

Someone from Maedhros’s camp suddenly notices him and alerts the rest of Maedhros’s people. 

Fingon allowed the healers to pick him up and take him to the healer’s tent where many other wounded were gathered after the devastating battle, and was glad to see his red-haired cousin, who was convinced Fingon had died after being overrun by Morgoth’s forces and the treacherous Easterlings.  

He then remembered the wolf and turned around, hoping he would be able to convince his cousin to help his savior — only to find the wolf gone. The spot it laid upon was now empty save for the tiny pools of blood on the ground. There was no sight of it. It had vanished like a ghost in the air. 

Confusion filled his heart, and an ounce of sorrow as he did not know if the wolf had died or not. It had saved his life, so he would have at least wanted to return the favor. 

The white wolf’s appearance and disappearance remained a mystery. No one really knew anything about it except that it had appeared during the battle and vanished after bringing him to safety. Some speculated it was a spirit sent to protect him or a beast that fought against its creator's tyranny. Many rumors were born out of the event, and none of them really felt right with Fingon. He sensed there was something much more than meets the eye with the wolf, which he couldn’t put a finger on or find out since he never saw the wolf again. 

He stayed with Maedhros after recovering from his injuries and being able to walk again. His lands were overrun by Morgoth’s forces and most of his people were scattered due to the catastrophic defeat in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.

It was a difficult predicament. As the high king, he should take responsibility and find a way to stable things for his people, but he didn’t know how. He half considered relinquishing the title of high king back to Maedhros. He did not feel like the right leader for his kin, and he knew some of Maedhros’s brothers would love to have the opportunity to reclaim the title back to their house. 

Fortunately, Maedhros provided unwavering support, and together they established some footing and stability in their shared predicament. 

He met you by chance in a human town made by refugees from Hithlum and all the other places taken by Morgoth. You were one of Hurin’s people from Dor-lomin.  

You managed to escape with your family when the Easterlings unexpectedly invaded and seized your home. Their sudden attack led to the destruction of your house, leaving you with burn marks and bandages that now covered your hands.

Fingon felt sympathetic since losing Nirnaeth Arnoediad resulted in the loss of your home and the freedom of your people to the Easterlings. He remembered how Hurin fought bravely, which allowed his brother to escape. At times, he offered solace when homesickness and concern for Morwen and her children overtook you. They were your younger cousins, and you used to play with them in the past. The only good news you had heard from them was that Turin had been taken to safety. 

You two shared a curious friendship. Fingon found comfort in your presence and the time you two shared, talking freely about worries and families. It helped to ease his mind even though he found it odd when some of your people considered your family strange and overprotective. 

You explained your parents had always been protective of you — ever since Morgoth sent the plague that took the lives of many and the recent loss of your home. Fingon understood it and didn’t inquire about it further. 

He didn't know why or how, but something drew him to you. You had a calming presence, and your eyes flickered a sense of familiarity in him like he had seen them before. 

When he one day told you about the white wolf that saved his life, you had an interesting reaction. You listened attentively, though your expression bore the weight of contemplation. Your hands absently stroked your bandages as if a familiar itch had returned. He had not seen you act like that before, and when he ended the story and caught your attention — your demeanor changed to your usual one. 

You called the wolf brave for standing up against a balrog out of all creatures. You two conversed about its potential origins, and you ended up mentioning the possibility of the wolf being a shapeshifter. Fingon considered it as he began to observe you from afar. 

He was busy keeping up the alliance between your people and his, but when he had time – he would carefully observe you from a distance. Personally, he would never intrude on someone’s privacy, but his suspicions only grew when he began to think of the possibilities of you — being the white wolf. 

It had not been too long since the battle, so the timing of your burns and wounds matched. You claimed you got burned when you tried to escape from your burning house and picked up a burning log to save your father, but they could have been from somewhere else — like from the flames of a balrog. Fingon remembered quite clearly how the wolf had used its claws to climb and tear on Gothmog’s skin, which resulted in them burning from the touch. 

You seemed familiar to him, and now he found out you had trouble eating properly. You had not mentioned anything about your problem with eating, so he couldn’t help but ask about it when he saw your plate filled with smashed and cut vegetables and fruits. You claimed you inhaled too much smoke and embers, so your mouth and tongue got damaged during your escape. 

It sounded too strange for him, especially when he noticed how exceptionally slowly you ate and appeared physically uncomfortable– despise the food being cut and smashed soft enough even for a baby to eat.

He continued observing but couldn’t uncover any other possible clues of you being the white wolf or a shapeshifter. He couldn't cast accusations solely on observations and because you shared similar injuries with the white wolf. And he didn’t know how to approach the subject with you without risking his friendship with you. 

You began to notice his prolonged absence and the strange looks he threw your way. He looked hesitant and suspicious about something, so when you had the chance – you approached him and asked if you had done something to upset him. 

Fingon was startled when you suddenly appeared to him but when you explained his sudden change in behavior and avoidance, he felt remorse and apologized, assuring you had done nothing to upset him. 

You told him he could rely on you if he needed help. Fingon felt touched and admitted that it was simply the stress that was getting to him. He would never bring himself to put you under any pressure. Your company and friendship were more than enough in these crucial times. 

Fingon felt ashamed of his antics and suspicion. He had not noticed he appeared to be avoiding you, thus causing you unnecessary negative feelings. He did wish to unravel the mystery of his beastly savior, but there was no reason to put you under stress for it. There was a chance your burns and injuries in the same places as the wolf’s injuries were a mere coincidence, so he decided to leave it there. 

He valued the friendship you two shared. You were gentle and honest, which he found precious despite the darkness that gloomed over his kin and the threat of Morgoth. 

He thought there were no secrets between you till one day — he got his answer to his long unknown mystery of his savior. 

He was riding through the forest, wishing to have some alone time and peace after dealing with demanding politicians and Maedhros’s roguish brothers, who had their eyes on his crown. There never seemed to be an end to their antics and insubordination. 

He incidentally wandered into a moment between you and your mother. You two were seated near a riverside with medicines, towels, and bandages lying around you. It looked like you two were doing something private since you had fewer clothes on you, so he prepared to leave before you could notice his presence and possibly get angry for indecent staring. However, your mother then began scolding you for something that caught his attention, and he couldn’t help but stay and listen. 

Your mother was furiously scolding you for being reckless and injuring yourself while adding ointment and cream to the burns on your hands and arms. Fingon frowned at the sight since they looked much more severe than he thought. She then mentioned you secretly sneaking into the battle between the elves and Morgoth and revealing yourself. 

Fingon perked at the new information as you mentioned being at home while your father joined the assault upon Angband.

You quietly explained that you only wanted to look out for your father and that Fingon would have perished if you had not intervened when the Balrog was going to take his life. 

Fingon watched as your mother smacked you in the head and commanded you to turn around and pick up your shirt so she could add the medicine to your back. You begrudgingly turned around and pulled your shirt to reveal your backside. Fingon was shocked when he saw a familiar burnt scar line across your back.  It was red and had blistered over time and on the exact spot where the wolf got struck by the Balrog’s whip of fire. 

There was no denying it. You were the white wolf— his mysterious savior. 

He should have felt angry for upholding such truth but couldn’t help but feel joyful for the discovery. It all made sense now, the close connection, the familiarity in your eyes, and all of your similar injuries and burns. You had met before because you were the one who saved him from the harsh fate of death. 

Fingon looked as your mother added the cream to your back, making you silently hiss from the coldness and the pain that had lingered for months. He felt pity for your pain since it was because of him you were in such a state. You risked your own well-being to save him from a creature no other would daringly face in battle. 

He continued watching for a while before deciding to leave you alone with your mother since he had eavesdropped more than enough. He rode back to the town, thinking about the discovery and your shared time together. 

He wanted to thank you. You saved his life. However, he wasn’t sure how since he had unintentionally discovered your secret himself. He didn’t want to startle you since you hadn’t told him yourself. He thought about your burns. Maybe—he could express his gratitude by aiding in healing your wounds. Elven medicine was more potent and could most likely even help you eat better in the future. That was it. He will keep your secret safe and wait until you are ready to tell it to him yourself.

[bunnis-monsters]

Shapeshifter that regularly shifts into your form so he can learn how to pleasure you… ends up really enjoying being in your form and decides it’s one of his favorites now.

You have a doppelgänger sometimes, roaming the streets and playing with their pussy the second they think they’re alone.

And when he sees you his form twists until it’s some strange version of you and another being. Well, maybe that’s what your DNA mixed together would look like.

So you now have a generally understanding that your future child will have that same appearance, and the shapeshifter is flustered and trying to reshape himself while your wondering if you should fuck him or not.

I mean, after all, he knows your body as well as you do by now. The sex has GOT to be good.

Horny reader supremacy. Fuck that weird thing!!

[bumpen-underbeds]

Imagine living with a shapeshifter, they could be anyone or anything, but most often they stick to simple mimicry of others, changing faces and shapes freely and making jokes about the hidden features they find as they shift.

It's all fun and games until one day they borrow your face, your body, standing in the bathroom looking at the shape they have taken, fingers tracing along the shape of your cheekbones, and the length of your neck.

They never knew how soft you were, how nice your lips felt as they touched them. Did you always have such soft skin? How could they have lived with you but never gotten to know these things about you? How could you have had such a wonderful shape to you, and they never borrowed it?

Hearing the front door open, they shift back to their usual face and greet you at the door, smiling as if they haven't just spent thirty-odd minutes exploring what you look like on their own.

It would become a new fascination of theirs to borrow your shape when home alone, to sit on their bed before a mirror and touch themselves as you, learning how good it feels to touch certain places, how your skin pebbles when they drag their nails across parts of your legs...

How they learn what it must feel like for you when you cum, panting on their bed, still borrowing your shape as they lie back and catch their breath, did you know it could feel that good? Had someone made you feel like that before?

Something dark twits in their gut when they think about someone else touching you like that now, before you were just their roommate and friend, but after learning how it feels to wear the shape of you...

There can't be anyone else; these pleasures are for you and them alone, none can even come close to what you could experience together now.

All they need is the right time to show you how good they can make you feel, how good they made themselves feel as you.

[hyacinth-in-a-haze]

The stranger- Yandere husband??? x fem reader

Contains - minor smut, obsessive behaviour, corporeal horrors, body horror, neglect.

You are starting to think the man in your home isn't your husband.

It was the night after your wedding when he left to go to war, you looked up at him as he stood beside the bed fastening his armour while you covered your bare chest with the sheets. Neither of you spoke a word to each other. You still remember your thighs were sticky with his spend, and it was as though he looked everywhere in the room but at your direction. The wedding itself felt like a farce, he only needed someone to maintain his estate in his absence, picking the daughter of one of his vassals to do the job. You only spoke one sentence to him in the glow of your room before he left.

“Would you like me to give you a token?” You were still bright eyed and used to novels of courtly love. Naive enough to believe that if he didn't love you yet he would at least have respect for you as his wife.

The only thing he met you with was a grimace “Why would I want something like that?” He muttered before closing the door behind him. Leaving you there in the dark unsure if you did anything to upset him.

That was three years ago, now with the war over and all the men returning you heard stories about men returning changed from war. Quiet and unable to handle loud noises, or volatile and quick to blows. But you heard nothing about a man who once felt nothing for his wife returning home full of love.

In all the years he's been gone he's never written to you, never asked after you. The man who returned however sought you out firstly, took you in just arms with a passion you thought only existed inside those novels you long abandoned as lies. And you wanted to believe it, wanted so much to be deserving of the love you always wanted. Until you noticed some things-

His eyes flickering between colours from the start to the end of the day. Moments when his features just looked wrong on his face, slightly off angle and misplaced. Or when you'd wake late at night, turning over to your side and freezing when you'd see a void where his teeth should be. But most of all, it was his newfound gentleness, following you throughout his day without caring for the household. The way he'd hold you to him at night, gentle as he pistons in and of you, asking reassurance for your comfort, wanting to make sure you're not in pain. How he'd have you cum over and over before he would allow himself release. when your wedding night was a stab of pain, and a handful of grunts over in five minutes before he abandoned you. This cannot be the same man.

You've taken to superstitions hoping they would help. Spending hours in the temple only for him to cross the threshold and find you. Keeping salt in your pockets but he'd still have his hands all over you. The only thing you haven't tried yet was silver until you spotted him through the keyhole, cracking in two before forming himself back again. Dressing up in the skin of your husband as though it's an evening suit.

With only the moon as your witness you hold the blade carefully above his heart, it would only take one push and then the thing masquerading as your husband would reveal himself. He is beautiful in his sleep. But with the beauty of a statue, an imitation of life from the perspective of an outsider looking in. You thrust the knife down- only to be interrupted with one eye opening.

“Why can't you just be satisfied with this?” The cloying affection is finally dropped from his voice as he grabs at the knife you hold against him. “He wanted nothing to do with you but here you are, unwilling to accept all the love i have to show you,” blood drips down his palm and onto his sleep shirt, falling in thick black drops.

“What are you?” you cry out “You've stolen my husband's face and wear it for what purpose?” you try to push the knife deeper but his grip blocks you before you can break flesh or what constitutes his flesh.

“I am someone who can take any shape I wish, I took your husband's face because I quite enjoyed the life he led in his memories. Nobels always lead the most fun ones, and they tend to die easily in battle so it's rather easy to switch skins from one man to the next”. He smiles and you could swear his teeth become sharp. “Normally I'm quick to switch my interest, but how could anyone grow tired of a life with you?” His hands move, pinnng you underneath him, staining the shoulders of your gown black with his mud like blood.

“I tried for you, I read those books you hid beneath your bed, copied them exactly but you never would accept it. Is it my face? Am I not pretty enough for you? I assumed you'd want me to keep his face at least publicly but in private I can be anyone you want,” he pleads desperately leaning down above you as his face begins to shift, features rearranging themselves. You become dizzy as he swaps faces, “I can be anything you want, take any form all for you!” He transforms into the stable boy who blushes when you take his hand, to the guard that accompanies you out from the castle, to the knights from all your abandoned books, before going back to your husband. Not stopping until you scream for him to end this game.

“Show me your face then! The true one!” your scream silences him as he pauses, leaning down into your neck.

“Do you really mean that?” his breath is hot on your neck as he begins to shift. A creature of ink spilling over your body, a thousand hands and lips caressing you. Made of smoke and stone you can't escape the weight he holds over you.“My love,” a thousand voices speak in tandem, “my sweet sweet love wanting me as I am.” the creature giggles almost, giddy on his adoration of you, “but I can't stay like this for too long, else you'd become mad,” he coos, you feel teeth across your neck, nipping the skin, careful not to devour you whole. He's still so careful as you feel tendrils spreading your legs, caressing you wherever he can find skin. You can't breathe with him stealing the air from your lungs.

He transforms back slowly, reducing into bone, then sinew then flesh again. Your husband's form, a minor horror compared to what you just witnessed. He smiles with too-sharp teeth as he pulls you close to his chest as though to steady you with his false heartbeat. “My sweet little wife, how could he have never loved you?”

[monstersholygrail]

Option A or Option B

Shapeshifter bf x gn!reader— jealousy, possessive sex, rough sex, teasing, orgasm denial, edging, nipple play, aftercare

You and Shapeshifter bf are shuffling down your hall after spending a nice brunch together. Though the silence is deafening after what happened at the restaurant. The keys jangling is the only sound between you as you awkwardly open the door and walk in.

Your bf is a jealous creature by nature, always concerned you find others more beautiful, that his original form isn't good enough for you. He offers constantly to change into someone else for you but aside from the rare roleplay in the bedroom you always reject the offer. You love him for him, you don't need him to look like anyone else.

But your bf isn't convinced, having been in one too many relationships where his partners ask him for this to be changed to that to be changed. The little things piling up after a while until he doesn't even recognize himself.

And he saw the way their waiter was looking at you, eyeing you down like a piece of meat. That he could almost handle but it was the looks you sent back to the waiter that pushed him into full on sulking mode. It was clear you found him attractive and your poor bfs mind began to spiral.

Him bringing it up to you only made his spiraling thoughts worse. And every minute of silence that follows is another nail in the coffin to him.

"You ok, baby?" You ask gently as you follow him into the apartment.

The minute the door clicks closed your bf is whirling around pinning you against it. His hands cup your cheeks and he drags you into a fierce kiss that has you melting into him.

It wasn't like your bf to be so rough but you got the sense that he needed this, needed you. So you let him manhandle you around the apartment, stumbling through your shared home without ever breaking the kiss. He guides you down onto the bed, straddling your plush waist and pressing his hard frame into your soft one.

Low growls rumble from his throat as he nips and licks into your mouth. His hands busy below as he jerks your clothes up to reveal your chest, massaging the skin and pulling moans from you before moving on. He only bothers to push your pants down to your knees before unbuckling his own pants and releasing his hard aching cock.

You moan as he sinks inside you with one solid stroke, your back arching into him. He sets a furious pace right from the start, one that has your mind practically melting with pleasure. His cock hitting all the right places inside of you while his hands pinch and play with your perky nipples. It's all too much and your eyes roll back from the intensity of everything he's making you feel.

But when you open your eyes, a terrible gasp leaves you as instead of your bf you see the waiter from the restaurant. For a second you think this is some twisted dream you're having on the ride home.

"This is what you really want, isn't it? Who you really want," your bf growls and while you realize what's going on, you still don't fully understand. His cock making your head all foggy.

"W-what?!"

"Did you imagine what it would be like to be with him and have him fuck you? It's never as good as you imagine, no. It'd probably be more like this."

In a matter of seconds your bf is taking away all stimulation in your core, making his cock small enough that you barely feel anything. An anguished cry leaves you as does the growing pressure of your climax. You desperately buck your hips, your bf being so mean to you that you can't help but whine.

"Or did you think it would be something like this?" He whispers harshly in your ear.

Your jaw drops as you go from nothing to stuffed full in the blink of an eye, your bf toying with you as he makes his cock grow. It's girth stretching you wider than anything you've ever taken. A wince pulls at your features and your bf immediately stops but he keeps thrusting, driving you crazy with it.

"T-too much!" You breathe, eyes wide. Even as you rock your hips with his, eagerly meeting his every thrust.

A dark chuckle falls right into your ear, his cheek pressed against yours and you're grateful for it. That way you don't have to look at the face of your waiter as your bf blows your mind with his cock. And you get the sense he feels the same despite the insecurities that fuel him.

"So this is what you want?" He asks, almost accusatory as he reads your body language.

You can only whine, his current cock returning the pressure to your core tenfold. Though you manage to shake your head. Yes, this feels nice, more than nice, but you want something more than you could ever want this.

"Just, nngh, just want you."

Your bf falters in his pace for a moment. Then he shakes his head like he almost doesn't want to believe it and starts fucking into you even harder, making you writhe on his massive length.

"Likely story."

He continues to plow you with his cock, making an absolute mess of you in a matter of minutes. Your arousal gushes out of you like a stream, the sheets staining with you need. Your bf moves this cock like he's had it all his life, mixing your insides with every swivel of his hips. His throbbing tip kissing your depths with ease.

You're practically putty in his hands, weak to how good he's making you feel. Your nails claw into his back, trying to ground yourself through the pleasure. Because even with all this it's not the same. It doesn't hold the same intimacy as he does when your bf uses his true face.

"Baby, pl-please!" You cry out, hips jerking as your hole clenches like it's sucking more of him in.

Yet somehow your bf knows exactly what you mean. Something about the look in your eye or the plea in your voice. It softens him instantly and has all his jealous melting away. You feel his cock shift back into the one you know and love but his pace never falters and it turns you more than anything.

He props himself onto his elbows, his true face now staring back at you and your clenching heat throbs around his length. Regret is written all over his face but he can't hide that hint of satisfaction over how hard he's ruining you.

"I'm sorry—“

You cut him off before he starts to ramble as you cup the back of his head and pull him down into a passionate kiss. You both moan as your lips meet and he never stops pounding his cock deep inside you.

He has you coming for him in a few skillful thrusts of his cock, your vision flashing white as you throw your head back and scream. Your bf watches what only he can do to you and the look of pure ecstasy on your face has him falling right over the edge with you.

Slamming down his cock he buries himself inside of you before splashing spurt after spurt of hot cum deep inside your pretty fuck hole. He groans loudly into your neck as his cum fills you to the brim. The sense of being so damn full has aftershocks rolling through you and prolonging your release.

Your bf curls his arms around you, keeping you firmly connected to him as he rolls you both onto your sides. He caresses the back of your head so sweetly and you just melt into his embrace. Comfort and safety surrounding you like a warm blanket.

Yeah, you could never get this with anyone else. You know that without a doubt and now your bf does too.

[specsthesecond]

Shapeshifter partner who is very horny and willing to indulge in your interests.

You just finished a show or movie and you're talking about how hot you thought one of the characters was? Bam! They shift into that character and immediately start trying to roleplay with you.

You thoughtlessly ask out loud one day, "I wonder what it would be like to fuck a clone of myself?" And then Boom! You turn around to face them and it's you staring back!

They are very into roleplay and really enjoy getting into character. You want a scrawny nerd virgin you can bully? On it boss. You want a big strong jock who'll bully you? You got it babe. Any genetalia. Any face. Any voice. Any size.

Soooooo many fun options.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

[heartfullofleeches]

[Suggestive]

Shapeshifter Reader: Friend, I believe I made some....errors while shaping myself into a form fit to be around others of your kind. Could you kindly inform me if this seems wrong to you at all?

Human Yan: Of course! Anything for you, Darling.

Shapeshifter Reader: I appreciate your help-

[Shapeshifter Reader lifts up their robes - the human's eyes bulging out of their sockets as they see what the shifter had hidden]

Shapeshifter Reader, hiding their face from shame: I think I may have gotten mixed up somewhere while looking at images of snakes in between my research. I think they are cute. So, is it normal for a human to have two of these things?

Human Yan, wiping drool off their face: Y...Yeah.... Looks perfectly normal to me.

[ozzgin]

I saw your comment on the Yandere shapeshifter sort where the skinwalker is like “stay with me, I’ll go get a whiteboard” This comment: “I feel like he's unconsciously gotten attached, like...he spent so much time with this dumbass, he might as well stick around. He'll be plotting your demise while stirring your tea and serving you breakfast. "Stupid human," he thinks, arranging your pillow and refilling your water bottle.”

by the end of the presentation I can see the skinwalker slowly nodding and smiling like “you got it?”

And the reader going “….wait so like you…and the dog….” Skinwalker: “yes?”

reader “…knew each other already!”

skinwalker: *facepalm*

Reader: “so (dog’s name) was your lost dog and you let me keep him because you saw how lonely I was and how much I loved him?”

skinwalker: *banging head on whiteboard*

This is my jam, y'all. Big, spooky monster who could end you in a second given your 0 survival instincts. Maybe he'll just keep you instead. You, uh, you clearly need someone to look after you.

[Yandere Shapeshifter]

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

71 / 2.1k / part 4 of shapeshifter familiars!141 tormenting witch!reader

nsfw; dubcon, group sex, predator/prey dynamics, degradation, manhandling, sex while on substances. also monsterfucking and sex pollen if you squint.

...

You're not stupid. You know fur won't save you. Their hunt is sweeter for prey that changes skin.

You'll pay for this. And they intend to make you pay in more than just blood--they want your fear, your pleasure, your vulnerability. Everything you've refused them until now.

You run until you reach the ancient chapel in the middle of the woods. Right as you reach the empty space where the front doors used to be, enormous paws slam into your back. The henbane's power ebbs. Your palm bleeds where glass shards remain embedded. The cracked stone steps, laced with overgrown brambles, press cold on your naked skin. Gaz's paws dig into your back as they shift into clawed fingers. You hear Soap's approach, too--the way he shifts halfway from crow to human as he lands behind you. The half-beast shape sharpens the look of starvation and lust in his bright eyes.

Gaz's claws dig into your shoulders as he flips you onto your back. You writhe as Soap's hands close around your legs and pull you between him and Gaz. Your body is human, but adrenaline and henbane trap your mind partway between animal instinct and human nerves. Your body is hot and your cunt swells and glistens as their rough hands grip you, squeeze you, drag you away from the entrance of the holy sanctuary, and spread you open over the forest floor. The chapel's crumbling walls loom over you, moonlight slicing through broken stained glass to paint your naked skin in fractured colors. You were so close.

Soap's claws carve crescent moons into your hips. "Think you're clever, aye?" His hand wraps around your throat and presses his thumb to your frantic pulse. "Playin' games with us."

Gaz pins your wrists above your head, his catlike pupils blown wide. Henbane still clouds his movements. He watches Soap spread your thighs. "She's dripping for it. Nothing better than a chase to make rabbits want to fuck."

Soap licks a stripe up your thigh and chuckles against your skin. "Knew you wanted to be caught. Should've stayed a rabbit. Och, but this is better," he groans against your skin, cock already pressing against your leg. "Fightin' us even when you're fucked raw on poison. Perfect."

The henbane twists everything--their snarls into hymns, the pain of being chased and held down into a perverse sacrament. With Gaz holding your wrists above your head and Soap holding your thighs apart, you're completely exposed. Your heartbeat makes your skin warm, makes it flush, and you know they can see how wet it makes you. Both sets of eyes are glued to your cunt.

You buck uselessly as your human pride compels you to fight. Then rabbit-like instincts compel you to lay still. Your throat is ragged from the chase.

Soap laughs. He splays his hand over your lower belly, pins you there, and leans mouthwateringly close to your cunt. From above your head, Gaz leans over you upside-down and drags a messy, open-mouthed kiss up your sternum. "Poor creature."

"Should've known she'd like this. Witch with a martyr complex. Gets off on being punished."

"Could've let the villagers take you," Gaz croons. "Would've paid good coin to watch 'em try to torture our witch. Bet you'd rut against their stakes just to feel something."

You feel Soap's breathy chuckle against your core and jerk. He holds you fast. "Could've just tied her spreadeagle to the old tree, aye? Let the whole village watch us fuck her. Ghost can have first go."

"Now that's just cruel."

Their cruel words braid into praise in your henbane-fogged mind. Soap licks a hot stripe through your folds, and your back arches against your will. He chuckles again, breath fogging your wetness. "Think she'll come on my tongue before Price gets here? Five silver coins says she screams."

Gaz's free hand pulls your head back to expose your throat. "Ten says she bites like a hare."

You writhe, but Gaz's grip is iron. Soap's mouth seals over your clit and sucks hard enough to blur your vision. Your thighs tremble. The pleasure is a serrated knife sawing through your weak resistance.

"Fuckin' starved," Soap growls against your cunt. His fingers spread you wider to lap harder at your clenching hole.

They move in tandem. Soap's tongue fucks into you, long and relentless, while Gaz’s hand angles your face toward himself. Gaz laps at your mouth and the beads of sweat saturating your skin to take his fill. As Soap's claws dig into your hips, your body betrays you over and over--arching into their mouths, cunt and throat clenching around nothing. You writhe, but Soap pins you harder and harder with each lathe, grinding you against the moss until your thighs shake. The henbane amplifies every sensation--the drag of his tongue, the scrape of Gaz's stubble against your neck, the damp earth beneath you. Every rough touch ignites nerve endings you didn't know you had. Your vision blurs at the edges. Rabbit instincts scream for you to submit even as your hips lift greedily for more.

Gaz releases your hair to palm your breast. "Slow down, Soap. Price'll skin us if we don't leave some fresh."

Soap's obscene groans vibrate through your core. He pulls back, lips glistening. "Better get here faster if he wants some, then. Him and Ghost both."

You moan at the loss of contact. Your hips chase his mouth, and his self-restraint snaps.

"Nah, fuck 'em." He flips you onto your stomach, yanks your hips up, and pushes a finger inside you eagerly. Anything to get you wetter. "Let 'em hunt for themselves."

You're so high and dizzy, cheek pressed to the broken stone below, that it takes you a few seconds to notice when Gaz runs his hands up your arms, over your shoulders, and cups your jaw in his hands.

"Beg," he says softly. "Beg your servants to fuck you."

You whine as he lifts your front half up to kiss you. He practically cradles you in his arms--protective, but completely unyielding--and slips his tongue into your mouth to devour all he can.

You squirm and gasp around his tongue. The command surprises you enough that your humanity--your pride as a witch--surface over the instinct to submit. You sink your canines down on his invading tongue.

Gaz pulls back with a hiss. His eyes narrow and his pupils slit.

Soap laughs. "That's ten to you, then. Rabbits do bite, don't they?"

Gaz ignores him. His grip tightens around your jaw. He takes your mouth in another searing kiss that lasts until your lungs burn and you taste his blood in the back of your throat. He holds you captive there and enjoys the way Soap's finger-fucking forces your desperate moans into his mouth. Then he pulls back.

"Good rabbits," he growls, "know when to play dead."

Gaz's hand fists in your hair and yanks your head back. It forces a deeper arch into your back just as Soap slips a second finger into your cunt. You clench around the inclusion. God, it feels to good. You've been so careful, looked over your shoulder, smudged sage into every dark corner. So much tension, protecting yourself the way you need to, and nowhere to channel it. Even lying awake at night in your house, gritting your teeth and thumbing tight circles around your own clit, the release wasn't enough. Wasn't even practical. The animal in you never left; it only slept.

Soap's fingers curl inside you, calluses scraping your walls. He chuckles. "Greedy."

Gaz chuckles, too, at the sounds you're making. "Chatty."

Your back arches further as Soap adds a third finger. He stretches you ruthlessly. Gaz's other hand drifts down to circle your clit, fingers pressing hard enough to make your thighs twitch and shake.

"Look at her," Soap rasps. "Fightin' for more. Fuckin' made for this."

Ghost's howl rolls through the trees. A warped distortion of an owl's screech calls back in response.

"Price is coming," Gaz says.

Soap withdraws his fingers with a lewd schlick. He drags you upright and presses his chest against your back. "Better get our fill first, then."

Gaz spreads your legs wide. "Hold her open."

Soap grips your thighs as Gaz lines himself up. His cock drags through your slick--teasing at first, and then slow and rough with sudden hunger. You can't remember how to form words. Just as well--if you spoke, you'd only beg him to take you. So much for pride.

Then Price's shadow falls across all three of you. He descends from the trees as something resembling a screech owl--but larger, older, something that blurs your vision at the eddges with instinctive fear. But by the time he lands atop the leaf litter, his talons have already morphed into boots, and his enormous wingspan is gone.

"Having fun, boys?" Price's voice is venomously calm. "While I track our wayward witch through three miles of cursed thicket?"

Soap doesn't lift his eyes from his new view down your body. "Just securing the kill, Cap'n. Didn't you hear our signal?"

A lie. "Move."

Soap sighs and wipes his glistening chin. "That's five more coin."

He pulls away, but before he can withdraw--if he intended to at all, still eying you with hunger--Ghost is there. He grabs Soap by the neck and hurls him away as easily as a sack of cats. Soap skids across the moss, leaving furrows in the earth.

Ghost doesn't pause to see him react. He pins your hips down with a hand the size of your face. Gaz watches from above you with careful eyes as Ghost's claws divot your skin as he leans down. Gaz glances at Price, but wisely does not stand in the way.

Soap straightens up casually. "She's high as fuck on henbane, LT. Go easy."

The divots under Ghost's claws deepen. "No."

He replaces Soap's mouth with his own. The difference is immediate. Brutal. Where Soap languished, Ghost devours. His tongue spears into you, thick and unrelenting, fucking and scooping into your cunt with the same merciless rhythm a wolf would use to feed. You choke on a sob, heels digging into the loam.

Price's hand fists in Ghost's hair and yanks his head back. "Enough. She's not some tavern whore to be ruined before the main event."

Ghost licks your slick from his lips, gaze burning into yours. "Could be."

"Later." Price steps over you, boot between your splayed thighs. "Up. Now."

They haul you upright. Your legs buckle. Gaz catches you and bands his arm around your waist. You try to stand, leaning into him, but you're struggling to remember how. The sudden movement blurs your vision and your body aches from the chase and from the torment of pleasure still thrumming through your muscles.

The threshold of the church--holy ground--looms so close, still. Then, to your shock, Price crosses over that threshold. Right into the old hallowed church.

Your breath hitches. "How--?"

The chapel gives an echoing groan. "Sacrilege," Price mutters. He glances up at the half-collapsed rafters. "Good."

He turns, backlit by moonlight pouring through the broken windows. His shadow stretches long and strange across the altar. "You really thought a pile of crumbling stones could keep us out?" He taps the tattoo on his inner forearm--your mark, seared into his flesh the night you bound them. "We go where you go, darling. Even into God's own house."

Gaz's hand slides up your ribs and plucks at your nipple. "You're ours down to the marrow, love. Nowhere holy enough to change that. But we admire the effort. Running, hiding, getting us good and hungry." His too-sharp teeth graze the shell of your ear.

He pulls your head sideways to expose the scarred sigil behind your own ear. The one you branded there the night you summoned them.

Price unbuttons his coat. "You bound us. Fed us. Let our filth seep into your bones." His belt buckle clinks open. "Now you'll take your communion. Ghost," he commands. "The altar. Bind her."

Ghost pulls you out of Gaz's arms. Your fuzzy, drug-addled brain struggles to keep pace. Then the cold bite of iron shackles snaps shut around your wrists, chaining you to the marble surface of the altar. Ancient restraints meant for darker rites.

Soap whistles low. "Harsh even for you, LT."

Ghost stands. "Witch needs to learn her place isn't in the dirt." His boot nudges your spread thighs wider. "It's on her back."

...

← part 3 / [part 4] / part 5 ➡

more Price / more Ghost / more Soap / more Gaz / masterlist

[boolger]

Bear shapeshifter!John Price x Bear shapeshifter! Reader

Something something, John Price being the only bear shapeshifter on base. Not the only shapeshifter, but the only bear one. That was until you appeared.

Something something, after a long mission they go to the med bay and John instantly smelled that there was another bear - he was so distracted by the scent, that he didn’t even reply to his teammates or anything. Just sitting on a bench, blood dripping from his arm, nose in the air.

Something something cue you, a new nurse, stepping in - you were a bear shifter as well, and when you stepped into the room, you instantly found the bear you had been smelling around base.

John let out a tiny roar-like sound in greeting, before chuffing gently at you; he had to focus to not change into his bear form, a pleased grin on his smile over finally seeing one of his own kind.

You who were frozen for a moment, caught off guard with how handsome the other bear was, a little rugged from the long mission, but big and strong, handsome even though he stank of blood, dirt and sweat. You replied with a tiny roar yourself, a shy smile on your face.

Something something, Price immediately fell in love with you, constantly pretending to be hurt afterwards - stubbed his toe, can you take a look, luv? My back is really sore, maybe you should help me? I think I might be becoming sick, maybe you could do a test — just so he could go to you. He refused to be seen by any of the other nurses or even the doctors, so the staff pretty quickly just learned to send you, if he arrived with an almost nonexistent pain somewhere.

Something something, as you grow closer and learn more about it, you grow tired of him not trying to court you like a proper bear. Hibernation was coming up in a couple of months, and you would love to spend it with him in a den somewhere.

So, you changed into your bear form on your day off, going to a nearby forest. Two hours later - after a lot of running - you returned to base with a stag in your maw. It was dead, but still warm. The biggest one you could find, to show that you were a good hunter.

Something something, Gaz spotted you and offered to lead you to where Price was, even though he was in a meeting with Laswell. Gaz politely knocked, while you just pushed him out of the way with your head, headbutting the door for it to open.

Something something, Laswell just staring with a raised eyebrow and then she grinned, while John stared for a moment, eyes wide and with clear hearts in them. You let out a chuff, dead stag in your mouth onto the floor, barely inside the office; John didn’t even say anything, didn’t excuse himself, just changed form, the desk forced to move, all his clothes ripping - except his little hat that stayed on his head. He gave himself a good shake, before walking around the desk, little bear tail wagging happily. He let out a little chuff and you replied - then you backed out of the room, beginning to walk away, your own tail wagging.

John hurried to grab onto the stag, barely able to fit through the door to get out, before he hurried to walk beside you, letting out a pleased sound. Gaz awkwardly helped open some doors, so the two of you could get outside without ruining them.

Something something, Gaz, Soap, Ghost and Laswell all looked at the two of you with smiles on their faces, as you walked towards the forest to share the stag, both of your small tails wagging.

[madwomansapologist]

──────〃✰ KINKTOBER DAY 6: 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆

title: haunted bang synopsis: when you decided to explored a haunted mansion, all you wanted was to gain more knowledge for your grimoire. you never expected it to be habited, even less for all the residents to agree that sharing is caring. [1.8K] cw: wizard!reader, teratophilia, monster fucking, gangbang, voyeurism, size difference, manhandling, mind connection, scent kink, oral (f!receiving), pet play, pussy drunk, overstimulation, you know that post about "would you fuck your clone?", f in v, monsters included are a eldritch creature, a werewolf, a vampire and a shapeshifter.

PREV POST ✰ NEXT POST

There is so many rumors about the mansion. Some believe it to have been built on top of an ancient cemetery, ending the ghost’s slumber. Others, that a coven filled every room with protection runes to preserve the soul of the late owners. A journal published a profile for an architect that died a day after the construction was completed, but quick research showed he had nothing to do with it.

Lies and gossips spread easily, but those brave enough to walk into the dead-end street can see the truth by themselves. Whoever chained those doors did so sensibly, since nothing sane could ever come out of them. A darkness spreads from within the house.

After making your way in with an old pliers, you explored the first floor. There were many chances of turning away, all of them ignored willingly. At the end, all you had were two options: to stay at home safely, or possibly learning a new spell for your collection.

Wizards aren’t known for making the obvious, easy choice.

Since the moment you sensed the darkness this mansion casted, nothing would’ve convinced you of not coming back to explore the secrets within those walls of bricks and stones. You feel it even better now, this great deal of mana. It isn’t a cursed mansion, only a heavily enchanted one.

A relieved smile appeared on your face when you finally found a library. You invoked flames in the remaining candles on the chandeliers and sat down on a large armchair. With the books floating from their shelves and surrounding your body, you analyzed them quickly in search of something worth your time.

In a few minutes, you found it. Holding an old grimoire in your hands, you blew the dust away. Walking through the library, your excitement blinded you. You put the book down on a table, opening your own to copy any fun spell.

As you begin to read the grimoire, your eyes widened. It takes strength from great old forces, eldritch entities incomprehensible to the average mortal. Based on entropy, it alters the fabric of reality itself.

Ancient magic. Its use is highly forbidden, and usually punished with death. Cleaning your glasses on your skirt, you bended over the table and read every line with an unending curiosity.

The first touch went unnoticed. A soft, quick brush against your arm. As your thigh got pinched, you assumed it to be the work of a hungry insect. But when a cold aura surrounded you, embracing your body and soul, there was no doubt left.

Whatever old force empowers this place; it was right here. Right behind you.

Your quarterstaff materialized between your hands. Your grimoire floated, pages turning as you recite your strongest protection spell. Changing your posture, you were ready to fight.

The quiet nature of this threat shifted.

Something forced its way inside your mouth, putting an end to your attempt of using radiant magic. An invisible force, but not less palpable because of it. As you bit down, trying to stop it, you felt it pressing down on your tongue.

Intruder, a voice spoke inside of your head. Low and strident, all at once. Thief in the night.

A limb embraced your waist, leaving a gelid trace as it fit beneath your shirt. A hand grabbed your left thigh so roughly you had no reaction but to whine with your mouth full. Little by little, there wasn’t a muscle of your body free to fight back.

It lifted you from the ground, forcing your hands open. The quarterstaff disappeared in the air before hitting the floor. Higher and higher in the air, your body trembled. Fully involved by this coldness, you had no way of moving.

Usurper, she hissed inside your mind. Or was it a masculine voice? You couldn’t quite picture it. But thinking back about it, didn’t it groaned and roar? Was it even human? Nothing will harm my home.

Nothing will, you thought. If you could hear its voice, then it could hear you too. You hoped. I mean no harm. I swear.

LIAR.

I want to learn, you tried to bargain. I have no intentions of hurting anyone. I didn’t even know there was someone in here to harm. All I desire is to know more than others. Nothing more, nothing less.

The silence gave you an opportunity to look for your grimoire. Alone on the ground, it was so close and yet so far away. Even if it was near, with you unable to speak or move there were few spells you could cast. And none of them would be of any real practical help now.

A soft caress on your cheeks took you from your hushed thoughts. As your feet touched the floor, you stumbled trying to regaining your balance. It held you in place, the feeling soft and rough.

I can teach you everything I know, it whispered. For a cost. This time, the voice came with pictures in your mind. Do you want that?

In them, you saw yourself. Lips hanging open, forehead covered in sweat, eyes half-closed. You saw tears running down your face, legs spread and trembling, fingers closed tightly around the same table you used before.

And in them, you saw glowing eyes still hidden by darkness.

Yes, I want that.

The same careless limbs bended you over the table, but this time it was gentler. Less worried about safety, more worried about you. Holding your hands behind your back, it placed your legs apart.

Something cold touched your inner thighs. It moved against your skin, lingering. Once more, you invoked flames. Contorting your body, a gasp broke the silence. Kneeled down, eyes fixated on your thighs, you found a werewolf.

“Your scent”, he groaned. His face rubbed against you, inhaling shamelessly. His yellow eyes raised to yours, and in them you saw desperation. His muzzle went away from you and he smiled, displaying his sharp fangs. “Hold her still.”

Once he closed his mouth, you tried to move away. Not because you wanted for him to stop, but because how couldn’t you when he says that? You were forced down, back caressed and head scratched. Like a pet, you were kept still and quiet.

Your skirt was thrown away from your body and he… sniffed you? Half of you bare to whoever there to witness, with a monster between your legs. To know that you’re being watched only makes you desire this more. A huge tongue licked your pussy, you moaned. It was real, just a tad louder than it needed to be.

Putting on a show, it laughed inside your head. Keep on this good work and I might not let you walk away.

Your eyes closed as he continued to ravish you. Restless, he simply continued. Tongue deep into you, teeth sinking into your skin, lips sucking around your clit. Your legs were covered in drool, and you could feel it dripping from your aching core.

A hand grabbed your hair, forcing you to look up. A real touch this time. The candles showed you the tall woman in front of you, nails so long they could be mistaken by claws. Looking into her red eyes, you felt a primal urge inside you.

Everything inside you told you to run.

Nature is such a disappointing force. It is not your fault that you were born a prey, that ancient being spoke. Its voice oscillated, as if it was too far away and suddenly right against your ear. And it is not hers to be turned predator long ago.

“This delicate sparkle in your eyes”, a velvet voice made to your ears. Elegant, but sharp. She smiled, and the fangs weren’t a reason to act surprised. “You won’t allow it to dissuade you, will you? Don’t struggle. There is no use.”

Her free hand closed around your neck. A movement faster than you could see, but delicate enough for you to know she didn’t want you to break apart.

“You are mine now, puppy”, she smirked. “Put your mouth to use.”

As she put her knee on top of the table, moving the black dress enough for you to see her strong legs, the vampire pulled your hair again. “Yes, mistress”, you said.

Satisfied, she forced your head between her thighs. As the werewolf continued to torture your poor pussy, you treated hers like a wine you had to enjoy every little sip. It was easy to get eager, to get lost on your own never-ending pleasure, but you made sure to treat her nicely.

Every whimper of hers made you weaker. Every bite from him made you weaker. Every hold onto your skin, whispers inside your head, made you weaker.

It was no surprise your orgasm would break you in pieces. It was no surprise every single one of you would continue despise it.

As you breathed in, trying to get your legs to work, a hand came back to stroking your skin. It put you on top of the table as if you weighted nothing. Before you could flutter your eyes open, those skilled fingers were inside of you.

Touching in the right place, with the right pressure, at the exact right moment. It was perfect. Did this creature read your mind in a way or another? Or is this fate, and in this wretched place you find someone that really knows exactly how to fuck you properly?

“What a delight”, the vampire spoke. “May I drink from her now?

The werewolf hummed. “Look at her legs. Those pretty lips”, you heard him doing just that. “You can’t. Not yet. I need my plaything strong and capable for the night.”

“But do you really, old dog?” She argued. “No one will judge you for admitting you need to rest. No one but me, of course.”

Her mind is far more interesting, it spoke again. Apparently, everyone could hear it. Her memories taste even sweeter. What a fine thing found us this evening.

“How luck we are”, you said.

But you didn’t.

Opening your eyes, you saw yourself. Fingers deep into your cunt, mouth displaying the most annoying smirk. Eyes glistening with fake innocent.

“Fuck”, you babbled.

The smirk seemed to grow. “Your mind is a interesting place”, that thing said. Even her voice was the same as yours. “But I need to say, your body if far more comfortable.”

Looking into your eyes, all you could do was take it. Let this being have its fill of you. Watch for your tits move. The strechmarks on your waist. Your soft thighs. Those freckles on your skin.

Being used, watching yourself, its voice came back. You want this to stop?

You giggled. “Don’t tell me it’s over already?”

Not at all, the voice came back. Let’s move to the next floor.

taglist: @ffinosie @lovelyy-moonlight @alzaira @s2-angells @eyes-ofhell @inlovewithmariah @chiiyohiimee @shaquilles-0atmeal @bloodyziggy @salemey @kcch-ns @notanalienindisguiseblink @py-schi

© all rights reserved to MADWOMANSAPOLOGIST

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Had a funny thought about you getting followed by high ranking members in the mafia… and they all keep giving you gifts and asking to court you.

They all act the exact same, same voice, same mannerisms…

So it’s revealed to be either one of two scenarios.

One, a mind controlling entity has been running the mafia from behind the scenes and using the members as puppets to interact with you.

Two, a shapeshifter has been using the forms of people they’ve recently killed to infiltrate the mafia and use its power and money to try and woo you.

Both are socially inept with no idea how humans work, they are just infatuated with you so it’s really scary having beings that are pretending to be human coming up to you and asking if you would mate with them……

With the first option, you end up getting gang banged by all of his puppets… but he gets tired of fucking you through the bodies of others… so he appears, massive and unsettling, ready to breed you properly.

For the second, he can shift into whatever you want, and BEGS for you to tell him to be whatever you want him to be. He gets flustered when you say you want him to be himself… and ends up putting you in the mating press…