#animal shapeshifter!pero tovar

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐓.

DAY FIVE OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: animal shapeshifter au + "you're not actually scared are you? of me?"

pairing: animal shapeshifter!pero tovar x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, romance, cottagecore, fantasy au

summary: you decide to take a swim in a lake that is deep in the middle of the forest. during your swim, pero finds you, and he's not happy that you went out alone during a full moon.

word count: 3.1k

warnings: breeding, marking, biting, does this count as monsterfucking if he's just human with wings and two cocks, pero has two cocks, despite the warnings this is actually quite soft, double penetration, praise kink, soft!dom pero, possessive!pero, creampie

a/n: during this i learned that some bird species have two cocks. you're welcome for this information and thank you for voting in the poll dfvdfvf (also i didn't edit this so sorry about that ily all)

The moonlight beckons you. It always has and always will. You watch as the water effortlessly brings the white light pouring from above with gentle waves kissed by the calm breeze. That same breeze rustles the leaves of dark trees. You’re not afraid of the darkness anymore. Haven’t been since you moved out from your family home, away from those who want to stifle you and silence you. 

Your steps are soft as you near the lake, the ends of your dress brushing the grass. You feel a predatory gaze taking in the sight of you, he’s in the shadows, enjoying the show. 

Your grumpy companion, if you will. 

Slowly, you drag the back of your hands up your waist and trace the pads of your fingers over the sweetheart neckline of your bodice. You lower them, feeling the rich ribbons holding the entire dress together. 

With one swift movement, you pull one thread and the rest comes down, pooling at your feet. 

You enter the lake, it’s cold but not cold enough that you’d want to jump out. You exhale a shaky breath and swim deeper, turning in the water, you observe the full moon. 

A rustling fills the silence. And feather-like steps are heard. Your feet sway underwater as you float upright. What captures your gaze first are a set of deep brown eyes that are too human to belong to a beast. 

Then you notice the fur, the pointed nose, and the snarl that shows white pointy teeth. The beast steps closer, paws large enough to cover your entire face. You swim close to the edge of the lake, your feet move against the thickness of water, you want to place your arms over the ground to brace yourself but decide against it. He’s angry, you can feel it, you just don’t know why yet. 

He stops at the edge you refuse to brace yourself against and leans down, his wide nuzzle an inch away. He inhales and exhales deeply, the force of his breath nearly drying your skin. He still bares his teeth towards you and you notice the faint traces of blood over his dark fur. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he growls, the deep voice echoing in your head. “It’s the full moon it’s dangerous.” 

“There are no people here.” 

His tongue darts out to move over his teeth, eyes watching you carefully, “It is not the people I fear, little soul.” 

With a sudden need to be close to him, you bury your fingers into the thick neck of the beast and urge him to come closer until your forehead is pressed firmly against his. He doesn’t close his eyes but you do. He’s incredibly warm; a faint scent of lavender and blood clings to his skin. 

“Join me,” you murmur. He watches you curiously for a moment before nodding and taking a step back. You revel in watching his transformations. His eyes finally flutter closed, a dark purple mist surrounding him, he lets out an audible breath. 

You first see the wings; dark and lush, they spread to his sides before folding back. 

Then you see the rest of him. Sunkissed skin, broad chest, and a stomach that has gotten rounder ever since he met you—a sign of a life with balance. Even though you have them memorized, your eyes dart over every faint scar that is scattered all around his torso. You love them. Tracing your tongue over every since one, the lightened patches of skin reminding you of stars. 

Pero steps forward, naked as the day he was born, soft cock hanging between strong thighs, he approaches the lake. And you. 

“I am still mad,” he grumbles, his accent thicker now that he’s using his actual voice. “You did not tell me you were going to come here.” 

“I knew you would find me.”

He doesn’t say anything and slowly submerges into the water, his wings follow him in the water like a mermaid's tail. You frown when he turns his back, his back tense and shoulders raised, you come closer and begin to cup water and release it over his wings. A shudder crawls up his spine, the delicate limbs playfully twitching despite his anger. 

“Just because I did not kill you the first time—” 

“Or the second.” 

He grunts, “Or the second—” 

“Or the third.” 

“¡Suficiente!” his wings raise higher and he turns viciously, the same anger you saw in him as a wolf returning full force. “This is not a game. There are creatures out there that won’t hesitate to rip you shred to shred.” 

Pero forces you to swim until your back hits the shore, the lake’s depth surpasses you both, yet he manages to towards over you. 

“Pero. . .” 

“You do not know what is out there but I do,” he snarls. “I am one of them.” 

He places a hand over your chest, blunt nails biting into the skin right above your heart. The curve of his nose brushes against yours. Underwater, you feel the heft of his cock pressed against your stomach, it takes you everything not to moan and rub yourself against him like a dog in heat. 

“What you don’t understand,” he hisses, voice dangerously low. “This heart belongs to me now—Not yours, fucking mine.” 

He pins your hips together, knocking the air from your lungs, your jaw drops and all you can do is stare. Instinctively, you legs press together, the lack of motion threatening to pull you under the moonlit lake. Pero doesn’t allow it, however, both his hands drop to your waist, keeping your head barely above the surface. 

You feel the brush of his lips on your cheek. 

“That muscle that pumps blood in your veins and keeps you alive. . .  it is not strong enough to take the attack of claws and teeth, or something worse. You owe it to me to keep it alive. You owe it to me to let me know of late-night dips, after making me fall for such a susceptible creature.”  

You close your eyes, your heart racing in your chest. You have no idea how he’s been around, centuries perhaps, he’d never told you. But you know it was a lonely life, to be gifted with the remarkable talent of turning into every animal imaginable only to cease to be human, for that talent, which was thought to be a gift, seep into the essence of your humanity. 

His gaze wanders over your countenance. You feel the heaviness of it. Finally, you open your eyes and bring your thumb over to the scar that goes over his eye and stroke it gently. The ridges of puffy skin catch against the pad of your thumb and you swallow.  

"You are not actually scared, are you? Of me?" he murmurs.

You smile, “Never,” you brush your lips together. “And you’re right. I’m yours. Sorry for wandering off. I honestly was just looking for you, I missed you and knew you’d trace my scent.” 

You scratch his jaw, the short hairs tickling your skin. He observes you a second longer before cracking a smile and nuzzling your neck, you feel teeth on your skin as he rocks his hips forward. “I’ve missed you too, my sweet soul.” 

Before you know it he’s hauling you both out of the lake, laying you over the velvet grass. The soft blades tickle your skin. Pero lies next to you, propping himself up on his elbow, he allows his eyes to devour you whole. His wings stretch over you both like the night sky, long and wide, you swallow as you ache to touch them—to feel their softness on your fingertips. 

“You like my wings,” he states, an observation. You nod and a wing descends, the tip of the feathers moving down the valley of your breasts and over to your stomach. You hold your breath as it inches closer to your clit, and you spread your legs without a second thought. “So obedient,” he murmurs. “Or is this your way of apologizing to me, hermosa?” 

The brush of feathers between your legs halts the words that were about to spill. Your body arches, a loud gasp tearing from your throat. The subtle touch makes your body sing for him, begging him to touch you with force. Enjoying your pain driven from pleasure, he continues to play with you with the end of his wing, and you enjoy the sight of slick smearing against the feathers. 

“Perhaps it’s both,” you murmur, sliding your hand down his torso and cupping his cock. You wrap your fingers and where he would groan eagerly, he turns rigid. Thinking that he’s still angry, you swipe a thumb over the head and move down. 

Something else hits your hand. Something hard like the one in your palm.

“P-Pero. . .” you look up to him. He grunts in acknowledgment, waiting for your question. You move your hand again to make sure what you’re feeling is correct, your fingers slip between two heavy cocks, one of them decked in soft, tiny feathers. You let out a strangled sound. “Do—Do you have two cocks right now?” 

He clears his throat. Normally you’d find the flush of his cheeks and his loss for words cute but you’re in shock. You’ve been with him many times before and never did he have two cocks. 

And there was no way you missed one. 

“It only happens once a month,” you squeeze the feathered one and he groans, hips thrusting to feel the softness of your palm. “It is. . . a side effect.” 

“Side effect of what?” 

“Of whatever the hell I am,” he answers bitterly. “It is for breeding. The. . . feathers they’re not actually feathers, they heighten the pleasure of a female and make them more. . . fertile.” 

A beat of silence. 

While you’re at a loss for words, you continue to stroke him, and indeed he was right. The soft things you deemed as feathers left a flowery-scented substance on your palm. Your lids flutter at the scent, your heart feeling light and full of want. 

The mere thought of Pero filling you is enough to have your cunt drooling for him. And he must’ve sensed it because his eyes darken and his wings hide you from the watchful gaze of the moon. 

He thrusts a little harder than, the bulbous head of his second cock hitting your wrist, “You like it?” he nips at your chin and cups your mound, slipping two fingers inside with ease. “I would want nothing more to fill this pretty little cunt up with all of me, but are you sure?” 

Pero skims his teeth down your neck, “I never had someone during the full moon.” 

“Then I’m happy your first,” you grind into the heel of his palm, moaning, when he presses hard against the bundle of nerves. “I want you, Pero. All of you. I want to feel you for days.” 

“Oh, preciosa, you’ll be feeling me for centuries.” 

There’s something exceptionally filthy being on all fours in the middle of the forest with Pero fucking his tongue into your sopping entrance. 

He’d been going at it for at least half an hour, you lost track of time during your forth orgasm, the ground beneath soaking your essence. His mouth, his fingers, he spared no expense in working you open. His mustache chafed your skin as he stuffed you full with three fingers, scissoring them while being knuckle deep. 

“Pero—I—I need—” you break down, tears streaming down your face. It’s too much. You don’t know how much you can take it. “Please.” 

“You think you are ready to take me?” he kisses the lips of your cunt long and slow, the tip of his tongue tracing your folds. “Poor thing. Did I tire you out already?” 

“I—I just want your cock. . .s,” you say, yet you still follow his mouth with your hips when he moves away. He suddenly flips you to your back, the force of it knocking the air from your lungs. 

“Say it again,” he growls. “Say it.” 

“I want your cocks,” you sinks his teeth into your neck, his regular cock brushing your folds. “I want all of you, Pero. Breed me.” 

“Fuck,” he rasps, his tone frustrated. “Fuck—Of course, bebita, I’ll breed you so fucking good. Then I’ll fuck you again and again, until you are round with me,” something dark flashes in his eyes when you whimper. “You are making it really hard to go slow.” 

You cry out again, purposefully grinding against his cocks, his eyes roll back and he momentraily loses himself, thrusting forward—

You both moan in unison; you, from being stretched around the girth of him, and him from how easily he slides inside of you, the tight fist of your cunt wrapping deliciously around his lenght. 

Pero begins to fuck you with shallow thrust and your eyes roll back. You can’t imagine how good it’s going to feel when you have both of them inside. You’re a whimpering mess beneath him, his very being towering over yours. You clench around him as his thrusts become deeper, a gush of wetness soaking him. He presses his sweaty forehead against yours, his chest heaving, he holds your gaze. 

“I’m going to slide in the other one now,” he kisses your lips and pulls away. Your eyes drift to his wings that stretch again. He pulls back his hips and when he pushes back again there’s an added pressure. A mixture of moans and pained hisses bounce behind clenched teeth, your finger curling into the dirt. Pero waits for you to adjust to both of him, his voice dripping with adoration. “You’re taking me so well. So good for me, my sweet little human, always wet and ready.”   

When your body relaxes around him, he presses forward. The feel of his other cock is different, that feather like texture tickles your walls, the prickles quickly melting into drops of pleasure inside you. A burst of arousal awakens in the pit of your stomach, your eyes go wide, your legs spreading further until the tendons begin to ache. 

“Please, please, please,” you cry out, hands grasping his forearms. “Fuck me, fuck me—shit—what is this?” 

Pero pins your hips to the ground, “Calm down, you are going to hurt yourself,” a heavy scent of lavender fills your nostrils, more liquid dripping from your core. “Like I said, it adds to the pleasure but I am only half way in, mi amor. You need to be patient so I can fuck you properly.” 

Your chest heaves, lungs collapsing, you taste salt on your tongue, “Okay. . .” you whisper. “Okay.” 

“Such a good girl,” he coos, but despite that, he doesn’t release your hips. “Taking two cocks at once so beautifull. I wish you could see yourself,” his thumb traces where you two connect, then he begins drawing languid circles around your clit and your entire body loosens momentarily. He bruises himself deeper with small thrust. “So close, just a little bit more and you’ll have them both inside of you.” 

Pero’s large hand caresses the swell of your stomach, you smile at him with a dazed smile, “Just a little bit more.” 

You know he’s fully sheathed from the sounds he make, something between a growl and a moan. The stretch you feel is immaculate. You feel so full. Both cocks twitch  uncontrollably inside, the sensation shortening your breath. Sweat beads at his foreahead, fingers biting into your flesh as he tries to stop himself from ruining you completely. 

When you cradle his cheeks, his eyes snap at you and he bares his teeth. It might’ve been tricks of the night, but you sweat his pupils become dark diamond before returning to normal. His wings flutter around you both protectively. 

“There’s no one here,” you say calmly. “I’m all yours.” 

Realization strucks him, his eyes widen, lips parting with a soft exhale. His expression makes you want to laugh. This isn’t the first time you’re telling him this, yet everytime you do he looks at you with the same awe-struck expression. 

Then all hell breaks loose. 

His teeth sink into your neck, his hips relentless as he hammers into you. Wet noises fill the forest. You’re left screaming his name, the burst of pleasure you receive with every stroke mind numbing. You feel so stuffed. Both cocks going in an out of you with embarrising ease, your body is on fire and something devastating begins to build up rapidly inside. 

“P-Pero,” you stutter, slack-jawed. “I’m—I’m going to—” 

“You feel it don’t you,” he sucks a nipple between his lips, tongue lapping the hardened peak. “The way pleasure feels endless and something that you can drown in forever. I have been feeling like that during every full moon. Finally I have someone to fall from the heavens with me—” 

He hooks his arms underneath your thighs and pushes them up until your knees graze your forehead. Your spine screams in agony, yet the thickness of having both cocks inside is enough to numb you to it. He goes deeper with every snap, your eyes roll back, ever muscles goes taut right before he pushes you over the edge, your cunt gushing around him as you scream his name, over and over. 

“That’s it, my sweet girl. Come for me,” he buries his head into your neck, fully exposing your body to his weight while he viciously pounds into you. “Fuck, can you feel me?” 

You definitely can—but you can’t form the words. His cocks expand, throbbing and twitching as they both strike that one spot that makes you see stars brighter then the ones above. 

Pero keeps his promise and spills into you, both cocks filling you until your body can’t take anymore and he drips around the edges. Your eyes flutter closed. Your mouth gasping for air, there’s so much, his cock pulsing. He gradually releases your legs, and they drop to the ground, framing his waist. Pero’s face remains buried in your neck, inhaling your scent. 

“Do I smell good?” you joke. 

He hums, “You smell amazing,” he answers. “You smell like me.” 

You want to quip back and say it must not be that good then, but you swallow your teasing for now, admitting to yourseld that you wouldn’t want to smell like anything else. 

“I never want to leave you,” he mutters. “Feels too good.” 

“Then don’t,” you say, clenching around him. You whimper as you feel both cocks still hard inside of you. “Doesn’t look like coming once subdued you anyway.” 

“Say it,” he peels away from your neck, grinning down at you.

“Say what?” 

“That you want me to fuck you again.” 

You roll your eyes. “No way.” 

His grin only wides when he rolls his hips and your words break into a loud, wanton moan. “That is okay, your body speaks for you anyway.” 

Before you can reply, he silences you with a kiss.

[juletheghoul]

Babes. With Halloween 147 days away I gotta know all the Pedro characters you hc as monsters. Like Din = demon, Ezra = werewolf, etc (lol idk how to word it)

Excuse me.. have you been looking in my google docs??

Okay - so I've actually given this a lot of thought, shockingly. I've come up with a list of what I think the boys would be for a story / series that might or might not ever actually see the light of day lol.

Here goes- hope you enjoy!

Jack Daniels; This man is a centaur. Cowboy through and through and nothing makes more sense to me than him being half man, half horse. Do with this information what you like. 👀

Din Djarin; For Din I have two headcanons—first one is Demon!Din, the lovable, sexy one that eats pussy like a champ and is a feminist lol. In the second one I don't think he'd be a monster per say, I think he'd be a droid, or some really advanced AI. He'd be intelligent, but surprisingly human underneath all that beskar.

Marcus Moreno; Homeboy is already super, so it makes sense to me that he'd be like a Magneto / Professor X hybrid. Intuitive, crazy smart, and very handy to have around.

Pero Tovar; I don't actually think he'd be a monster either, more like a time traveler who is perpetually lost. Never in his own time, never knows what's going on but point him towards somewhere he can have a stiff drink, a fight, and a woman or five and he's right at home.

Javier Pena; Javi would be a Nahual, the Mesoamerican version of a shapeshifter, also known as an animal protector and guardian spirit. I'm not sure which animal he'd change into-I'll leave it open to interpretation.

Francisco Morales; Werewolf. Hands down. Literally nothing else to add to this-he'd be normal and cool most of the time, and then disappear for the three days of the full moon.

Max Phillips; This one's a given, he's a vampire and it makes sense for him. No notes- they got it in one.

Marcus Pike; This is where we get a bit sad, I think Marcus would be a ghost. A lonely spirit, wandering the earth in search of a true love.

Ezra; He's a little different, he gives me 'Old God' vibes. A pagan harvest God or deity, someone you leave offerings to in order to have a bountiful harvest, or good health, fertility.

Dave York; This man is a crossroads Demon. He's cold, and distant, and is always ready to offer you a deal you can't possibly afford.

Oberyn Martell; This is obvious to me too, Oberyn is an Incubus. The breeding kink is so strong it's basically his personality. He's only here to have a good time, and fuck his way through humanity (consensually, of course), leaving as many babies as he can in his wake.

Max lord; Another obvious one for me, he's a genie. Make your wishes, and he'll grant them, so long as there's something in it for him at the end of the day.

Would love to hear your thoughts, and thots on this! 💜

[littlemisspascal]

Little Red’s Shadow Part 2

Pairing: Werewolf Pero Tovar x Female!Reader

Word Count: 5500+

Summary: Conclusion and Follow up of Part 1

Warnings: no beta all mistakes are my own, language, werewolf/shapeshifter AU with little red riding hood elements, creepy handsy drunk guy, pining, angst, drama, confessions, reader’s father makes a cameo

Author Note: I am so so unbelievably blown away by the incredible support Part 1 of this fic received. Never ever did I anticipate the encouragement and fanart and kindness sent my way. You are all so amazing and sweet and I love each of you so much it’s ridiculous. Just like the first part, this conclusion is just as self-indulgent and fingers crossed someone out there likes this as much as I do 💗💗💗

“The wolves are never meant to be anything other than defending. They’re not meant to be aggressors.” -- Joe Carnahan

The tavern is crowded tonight.

That’s the first thing you notice when you enter, nervously picking at the hem of your blouse while looking around the dimly lit room for Pero. There are a couple of booths lining the back walls and some tables arranged in the center close to the bar. Overhead the ceiling is high with lightbulbs hanging from strings attached to wooden beams. 

Some of your fellow villagers offer words of greeting when you step past them on your way towards the bar, and you politely smile back at them, trying not to let your disappointment show that none of them are the one you truly want to see. 

William approaches you after you’ve ordered a drink, sliding onto the stool next to yours with a bright enough smile you suspect he’s had more than a few pints already this evening. 

“I can’t tell you how glad I am that your quarrel with Pero is over,” he says while motioning at the bartender for another drink. “His doom and gloom wasn’t good for business.”

You frown, brow creasing with worry. “You didn’t consider firing him, did you?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “He’s a grump, but when he’s focused he works well. Especially after he gets back from his lunch break.”

A snort of laughter escapes you, recalling several times you’d visited the blacksmith shop early in the morning before dawn and caught Pero stuffing his face with breakfast. He ate like he had no clue where his next meal was coming from, ravenously tearing apart strips of bacon with his teeth with the same ferocity as a wild animal. 

“He is quite a fan of food.”

“Actually, he usually takes off into the woods,” William corrects you, accepting his drink from the bartender. He gulps down a few mouthfuls of beer, then licks the foam from his upper lip before adding, “I guess the fresh air clears his head. Do you ever see him out on the trails?”

Rather than Pero, Shadow comes to mind instead, followed by a sharp pain in your chest when you think about his absence, how he hadn’t reappeared to walk you home. It isn’t fair how you’ve fixed one relationship in your life only for another one to fall to pieces. Why did there have to be a consequence for your moment of happiness?

“No,” you answer softly, looking down at your drink with the foolish desire that the amber liquid could reveal all the answers to your problems. “I haven’t seen him.”

William doesn’t linger long after that, heading for the door with a cheeky wink after wishing you good luck on your date. You try to feel bolstered by his belief that the date is, in fact, happening still, but every minute that ticks by without Pero threatens to crumble your confidence into dust.

You scrub a hand over your face, wondering if maybe you pushed too hard for a date. But the way he’d pressed a kiss to your palm doesn’t suggest he’d felt cornered. No, he’d definitely been interested then. You’re certain of that.

The question is, did something change his mind in the hours between then and now? And if so, what was that something? Do you even have a chance to change it back? 

“You’ll give yourself gray hairs worrying about the unknown,” your mother used to warn you before she became sick, teasingly pulling on your braid. “I promise the puzzle pieces life hands you will all make sense if you’re patient.”

Patience has never been your strong suit which leads you to order a second drink, figuring alcohol is a good enough distraction from your worry for the time being. Your future self might hate you in the morning, but your present self is on her way to becoming pleasantly buzzed.

You nearly choke on your mouthful when a hand grazes your hip, fingers sneaking beneath your blouse to touch skin. Turning, you find yourself uncomfortably close to a stranger, clearly drunk and uncaring of personal boundaries. His acrid-smelling breath invades your nostrils and makes your stomach churn nauseously. You mentally curse your bad luck, realizing that yes, things can actually get worse.

“Aren’t you a pretty girl,” the stranger says. His speech is slurred, but the lust in his eyes shines bright beneath the hanging lightbulbs. “Care for some company?”

You lean away from him, teetering on the edge of the stool. “Not yours,” you snap, discomfort rising at an alarming rate.

He smirks, intrigued rather than offended. “I bet I could persuade you.”

Your upper lip curls with disgust, but before you have the chance to retort, a wall of warmth plasters itself against your backside with a threatening growl that vibrates through your chest, rattling your ribcage with its intensity. 

“Back off, cabrón.” Your heart stutters when you recognize Pero’s gravelly baritone instantly. He sounds on the verge of turning feral, his voice laced with fury. “Now.”

The stranger, either emboldened by the amount of alcohol in his system or just plain fucking stupid, rolls his eyes at Pero. “Fine, whatever. Just get the bitch a muzzle for that mouth.”

Pero moves faster than your eyes can track, slamming the stranger’s head so hard against the counter of the bar it echoes throughout the whole room. Shock ripples across the crowd, all eyes zeroing in on Pero. And you don’t blame them. 

He looks downright murderous with his lips twisted into a cruel scowl, eyes blazing. 

“Pero,” you begin, nervously glancing between the crowd and him. “Stop. It’s fine. I’m fine. Trust me, he’s not worth it. Just let him go. Please.”

Pero’s eyes flick towards you, reflecting the light strangely, looking more gold than their usual dark brown coloring, and for a split second you think he’s going to ignore you, but then he leans down and mutters something in the man’s ear too low for you to detect. The stranger’s face drains of color, terror written in every line of his expression, and when Pero finally releases him he takes off on shaky legs towards the door with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

Realizing the drama is over, the crowd gradually resumes their conversations once more, filling the silence with chatter and the clinking of glasses. You move closer to Pero who has his head ducked, avoiding eye contact and glaring holes into the floor, hands flexing at his sides.

You reach for one of his hands slowly, giving him the time to reject your touch, but his fingers clutch onto yours like a lifeline.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, just loud enough for your ears alone to hear. “For being late. For my temper. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s okay,” you say, the guilt in his voice making your chest hurt. You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Pero looks up at you, lips stretching into a slow, pleased smile. You fight the urge to press a kiss against the dimple on his cheek, instead returning the grin with a soft one of your own.

“Can we take a walk, little red?”

You nod, butterflies whirling in your stomach. “I’d like that.”

Stars peer down from the night sky while hanging lanterns and street lamps provide more than enough light to illuminate your path as you and Pero stroll through the village. He has yet to let go of your hand, warmth buzzing through your whole body from the point of contact. 

“Most people who stop by the depot to trade are gone by the next day,” you say, the thought occurring as you pass by the building. “But not you.”

“I didn’t plan to stay,” Pero admits, hearing the unspoken question. He scratches at his scruffy cheek with his free hand as he searches for the right words. “I happened to find something that made me change my mind.”

Although your curiosity immediately piques with interest, you don’t ask what that something is, respecting his desire to keep it vague. “I forgot to say,” you murmur, “but I like your haircut. It’s much better than that shaggy, mountain man look you had when we first met.”

He smirks. “Is that so? You know, you were the first person I’d seen in months.” His expression turns thoughtful, as if he’s begun unfolding the memory in his mind like an old photograph. “It was hard for me, remembering how to use words and talk to humans.”

Specifically referencing humans sticks out in your mind as oddly phrased, but then again, what do you know about wandering the wilderness completely alone for months? Maybe if you were in his shoes, you’d also have forgotten how to socialize.

You bite your lip, trying to think of something lighthearted to say, but instead what comes tumbling out of your mouth is, “Did you ever encounter any wolves?” Seeing his startled expression, you rush to add, “It’s just...The way you looked at my field guide, you seemed like you hated them.”

Pero hums, shoulders losing some of their tension. “I crossed paths with one once,” he confirms, calm and detached. He stops walking, pulling gently on your hand to turn you towards him, and he gestures towards his scar. “It gave me this. I’m fortunate it did not rob me of my sight.”

Unthinkingly, you brush your fingertips beneath his eye along his cheekbone where the scar ends. His skin is surprisingly warm beneath your touch, and he makes your breath catch in your lungs by tilting his head, pressing his cheek firmer against your hand, almost nuzzling it.

Little by little you’re starting to uncover a soft, gentle soul beneath his hard-bitten exterior. And in that exact moment you think, I wouldn’t mind falling in love with you.

“I tried to hate wolves for what was done to me,” Pero confesses quietly when you start walking again, heading towards your home, “but my mamá told me as a child that all things happen for a reason, good and bad. There are no accidents.”

“My mother told me to never believe in coincidences.”

His lips curl at the corners, glancing at you with a fond look that nearly has you tripping over your feet. “We were raised by smart women.”

When you reach your front door, you lean your back against it, reluctant to say goodnight to him. You feel something new and special has formed between the two of you, something precious to protect and cherish for years to come. 

Pero stands close, eyes drifting over your face, as if trying to memorize every detail. His thumb brushes smoothly over your knuckles, a soothing motion sparking warmth up your arms. When his gaze dips towards your mouth, you subconsciously start to lean in, magnetized by his presence.

“Little red,” he murmurs, a note of audible nervousness in his voice that makes you pause. “There’s something you need to know about me. Something important.”

“Okay.” You draw in a shaky breath, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart. “What is it, Pero?”

Pero doesn’t answer immediately, watching you with eyes deep and soulful, conveying a silent message you cannot read. You wish you could understand, that you could spare him the discomfort he so obviously feels, but you don’t. And so you say nothing. Silence fills the space, threatening to drown you both. 

“Tomorrow,” Pero says finally, and the word is firm, coated in steel. “Tomorrow I’ll come see you at the depot and we’ll talk then.”

You tilt your head, stomach twisting with nervousness. “Alright,” you say slowly, reluctant to pressure him. “If...If that’s what you want.”

He makes a face at that, like it’s the last thing in the world he wants but he’s not going to admit it. Instead, he presses a kiss to your hand, the roughness of his stubble tickling your skin, and says, “Buenas noches, little red.”

"A howl is as infectious to a wolf as a yawn is to a human."— Kevin Ansbro

Storms aren’t a common occurrence during the spring season, but when they do occur it’s as if the skies open up like a damn bursting and flood the village without remorse. 

You’re warm and dry within the depot, watching the lightning flash angrily across the sky through the window. You hope the storm isn’t a bad omen for your conversation with Pero, your fingers twitching restlessly as you wonder what he plans to tell you. Whatever it is, he’d sounded serious when referencing it. Like it’s something that could permanently alter your perception of him. 

In for a penny, in for a pound, you think, nodding to yourself. 

The incessant howling of the wind outside grates on your ears, but it is not loud enough to muffle conversation between a pair of hunters walking around the depot seeking new equipment to replace their drenched ones.

You don’t mean to eavesdrop, but in your defense, they’re not attempting to whisper and the small size of the room makes it virtually impossible to ignore their voices. 

“Better stock up on silver. Full moon’s coming up,” the older of the two warns his companion. He goes by the title Sir Ballard, claiming he used to be a prodigious teacher in his younger years before turning to a life full of hunting and adventuring. Foreign languages are his favorite subject to discuss, but he’s also an expert on ancient myths and legends. You think his stories of aliens and mysterious beasts are a little too far-fetched to be believable, but they’re entertaining nevertheless.

“What’s so special about full moons?” the other hunter asks.

“Nothing if you’re a human,” Ballard answers, adopting his wise professor voice, “but if you’ve got wolf blood in you, the sight of the moon makes you a savage and mindless creature. If you ever come across one, you better hope you’ve got silver with you and good aim because if their bite doesn’t kill you, it’ll turn you. That’s the curse of a werewolf.”

“How do you tell a regular wolf apart from a werewolf?”

“You can’t. That’s why I kill every wolf I see.” Ballard chuckles, causing a shudder to crawl down your spine, a pit forming in your stomach. “Hell, I killed one last night at my camp. Tried to steal food from me and I stabbed it with my knife.”

Your lungs seize up, feeling as if you’ve been kicked in the ribs. No thoughts float in your head beyond white noise and Shadow’s name on repeat.

“Sir Ballard,” you say, internally cringing at the audible tremble but you’re incapable of fixing it. “Where exactly did you kill the wolf?”

He raises an eyebrow, expression turning concerned, probably wondering why you look seconds away from keeling over, but eventually he admits, “In these surrounding woods. I would have brought its pelt to trade, but the damage from my blade was too severe. I’ve never seen so much blood before.”

The revolting image of Shadow’s perforated corpse with scarlet streams pouring from his wounds is more than enough to send you spiraling into a panic attack. Your clothes suddenly feel too tight, your hands shaking at your sides, and the walls are closing in around you. Inching closer and closer, stealing your oxygen without remorse.

No. No, no, no. 

You don’t realize you’ve moved until fat, icy droplets of rain smack against your skin, drenching you from head to toe, and shocks your system back online. 

You need to find Shadow. Need to see him alive and breathing one more time at least. You’ll never forgive yourself if the last interaction you ever had with him was a heartbreaking rejection.

Blinking away the rainwater dripping from your eyelashes, you set your sight upon the forest and take off sprinting. You probably look like a madwoman, running through the storm, soaked to the bone, but all that matters is your wolf.

Lightning streaks across the sky followed by a boom of thunder that shakes the ground as you enter the forest. The trail is a river of grit and mud beneath your feet and the wind assaults the trees relentlessly, turning the scenery you knew and loved into an unrecognizable nightmare. 

You frantically search for any trace of Shadow’s presence, ignoring the chattering of your teeth and the harsh sting of raindrops pelting against your skin. Your hair is absolutely soaked and you’ve never felt so stupidly helpless in your life. Hell, you’re not even sure the direction you’re heading in is even the right one leading to the grassy clearing.

“Shadow,” you call out, raising your voice to be heard over the storm. “Shadow!”

But your wolf does not appear.

You refuse to give up, screaming his name until your vocal chords are scratchy and hoarse. Panic pulses through your veins and every breath of air gets harder and harder to inhale, black spots appearing in the corners of your vision. 

Another deafening burst of thunder sends you careening sideways, shoulder striking against a tree trunk. Its bark digs painfully into your flesh, eliciting a whimper from your sore throat as pain radiates through your collarbone and backside. 

You sink to the ground, curling into a shivering ball at the tree’s base before looking to the dark sky miserably. The overhead branches look eerily similar to claws, reminding you of your childhood fear of the woods. You had been convinced monsters lived in them. Giant, scary creatures with red eyes and sharp fangs who would steal you away if you got too close.

You remember being seven years old and staring anxiously at the tall trees as your mother hung laundry to dry upon a clothesline.

“Sweetheart, it’s alright,” your mother said, voice gentle and comforting, laying a hand upon your head. “If you ever see a monster, all you have to do is howl.”

You frowned up at her. “Howl?”

“Monsters are afraid of wolves, see, and a wolf can never resist answering a howl.”

An idea sparks, breaching through the swarm of anxious thoughts buzzing like wasps in your mind. I trust you, Mom, you think before tipping your head back against the tree and letting out a howl.

The raspy, prolonged wail that tears itself out of your throat doesn’t match a single note of a wolf’s beautiful song, but you pray Shadow hears it and knows it’s your voice.

You strain your ears to hear his potential answer over the falling rain. You feel breathless and jittery as you wait, but you can’t tell if it’s your body gradually succumbing to hypothermia or if it’s your distressed nerves worsening the longer there is no returning howl.

Your head lolls against the tree trunk, aching muscles protesting against the heavy weight of your skull. The storm has warped your senses, making time seem to stretch on and on, dizzying your brain. You have no idea how long you’ve been out here in the woods, if it’s been mere minutes or over an hour. Maybe even two.

You drift in and out of consciousness, unable to summon the strength to stand despite knowing how vulnerable you are sitting here. You’ve lost feeling in your limbs, the blood frozen stiff, and each breath feels like you’re inhaling splinters.

Then, a low, guttural howl weaves through the trees, bringing the faintest of smiles to your blue lips. You don’t know how you know, if it’s instinct or some strange side effect of the bond you’ve developed with your wolf, but you’re certain with every fiber of your being it’s Shadow calling out to you. 

I’m coming, he seems to say. Hold on.

And you wish you could answer. That you could keep your eyes open long enough to greet him. But the all-encompassing relief swimming through your veins makes it hard to focus and your eyelids are so heavy that it’s an impossible feat.

In the silence that follows as you drift off into blissful sleep, you could have sworn you heard a voice shouting your name. Felt warm hands tenderly press against your face.

“I’m here, little red. I’m here,” the voice said from somewhere beyond the darkness. “I’ll always come when you call.”

“On the ragged edge of the world I’ll roam, and the home of the wolf shall be my home” -- Robert Service

You wake up with a groan, opening your eyes to see a familiar ceiling with wooden beams overhead. The rest of your bedroom swims into focus, the moon casting just enough light through your windows for you to see.  

Rubbing at your eyes, you notice your bed is covered with seemingly every blanket you and your father own. You stare at them, searching your foggy memory for an explanation—and then everything hits you at once. Sir Ballard killing a wolf, the run through the storm, collapsing in the woods.

Shadow’s howl.

Pushing the covers aside, you try to stand only to nearly fall on the floor instead, your legs forgetting their purpose of supporting you. You hiss a quiet curse and grab ahold of your nightstand to support yourself, accidentally knocking over a small object. 

You grab it and hold it up to the moonlight for closer inspection, realizing it’s a metallic figurine of a wolf. Your brow creases as you run the pads of your fingers over the rough edges of the wolf’s fur, noticing the way its head is thrown back, forever howling a silent song. 

How strange and remarkable, you think, deciding to take the figurine with you as you head downstairs to seek answers from your father. 

You find him in the kitchen in the middle of preparing dinner. His shoulders sag with relief when he sees you, pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Thank God,” he murmurs. “You scared the hell out of me, kiddo.”

You hug him back just as tightly, a pang of guilt striking you in the chest. “Sorry,” you say.

“What were you thinking?” he asks, giving you a once-over like he can figure out the answer from looking at you. “If it wasn’t for Pero, I—”

“Pero?” you interrupt, heart jumping in your chest. 

“He’s who found you,” your father says. “He forgot one of his hunting traps in the woods and went to retrieve it. Instead he found you, unconscious and absolutely drenched. He brought you home and told me to make sure you got warm. If not for him, you...” He shakes his head with a grimace. “I don’t want to even think about the outcome.”

Something about Pero’s explanation doesn’t ring true to you. He’s not the forgetful type, for starters. And ever since he started working at the forge you haven’t heard him mention hunting except when he bragged to William about once taking down a bear. 

You recall William telling you at the tavern Pero often ventured into the woods during his lunch breaks. Maybe he had started hunting again during the weeks you’d spent avoiding him. But it’s strange you hadn’t encountered him even once along the trails. Just Shadow.

Just Shadow who showed up in your life the same time Pero moved into the village. Just Shadow who understood every word you said and had a raspy laugh like Pero’s when he teased you. Just Shadow who howled shortly before Pero found you in the rain.

Sir Ballard’s voice echoes in the back of your mind. “If their bite doesn’t kill you, it’ll turn you. That’s the curse of a werewolf.”

If a bite could turn someone…

“I crossed paths with one once. It gave me this.”

“I tried to hate wolves for what was done to me.”

“I have become something no one—not even my own mamá—could ever love.”

“There’s something you need to know about me. Something important.”

“Can’t a man be two things at once?”

…could a scar have the same effect?

You hold up the wolf figurine, the gears in your head turning, reconsidering every memory of Pero. “Did Pero leave this behind?”

Your father nods. “As a gift for you, yes. Is there...something going on between you two?”

Instead of answering, you slip your cloak over your pajamas and stick your feet into your boots, haphazardly tying the laces with trembling fingers. God, you’re a stupid idiot. Shadow is the furthest thing from a normal wolf. All his mannerisms and his fucking ability to understand human speech.

You’re a stupid, stupid girl so blinded by the desire to have a friend you failed to see the waving red flags. 

Annoyance flares, burning hotly down your spine, and you stomp past your father towards the door as he asks, “Where do you think you’re going at this hour?”

“I’ve got to talk to Pero,” you tell him, ignoring his worried protests about your health. “It can’t wait until morning. It’s important.”

The village is relatively quiet once the sun goes down with most people tucked away within their homes or enjoying a drink at the tavern. It should be calming, but instead the silence only adds fuel to your agitation, your skin bristling all the way to the blacksmith shop.

There’s a light on inside the forge indicating the presence of life. It might be William working late on an order, but deep down there’s a sense of certainty too intense and foreboding to ignore. The same certainty you’d felt that very first day your wolf had spied on you in the woods.

Pero’s waiting for you. 

You stand in front of the door to the forge, knowing the second you confront him there’s no going back to how things were before. Whether he confirms your suspicions or calls your werewolf theory crazy, this conversation will have repercussions. You draw your shoulders back and shove your anxiety into a box to be dealt with later in the privacy of your room before pushing open the door, determined to get the answers you came for.

Pero stands at the sink in the far corner of the room with his back facing you, cleaning the rust off some of the forge’s tools with vinegar and water. He’s dressed in a plain, black henley with the sleeves rolled up his forearms—a sight that would normally distract you and send your heart into overdrive. 

You shift in place, suddenly hesitant to draw closer despite determination still burning away inside your chest, demanding you stop wasting time and do something.

Pero beats you to the punch, glancing over his shoulder at you. “You should be resting, little red.”

His calmness is the last straw of your self-control.

“Shadow.”

Brown eyes flash amber-gold.

And your whole world tilts on its axis.

“You’re him,” you whisper, words cutting your tongue like thorns. 

Pero is silent, but you see the tenseness in his shoulders as he turns around, the wariness in his gaze like you’re the wild animal in the room to be cautious of. You might have laughed if your chest didn’t hurt so much. 

“Yes,” he says with an awkward shrug of his shoulders. “I’m your wolf.”

“Oh my God, werewolves are real.” You turn away, pressing your palms against your eyes. Embarrassment starts to bloom as you think of everything you’d told Shadow, all your secrets and dreams. Your crush on Pero. Oh God...

Your breath hitches. “That day in the woods before you came to the depot. You were watching me.” You whirl around, glaring at him through watery eyes. “Did you plan all this from the start? Am I just a worthless toy for you to play with until you get bored and find another girl to trick?”

“Stop it,” Pero snarls, crossing the room so fast you stumble backwards against the door. “You’re not a toy. You’re not worthless. You have become the center of my world.”

He looms over you, so close that it should be scary or intimidating. But his nearness only serves to soothe the raging fire inside of you, a security blanket you want to wrap around yourself. 

You bite your lip, the pinch of pain grounding you back in the present moment. “What do you mean?” 

“There are many myths about werewolves. Some are true, most are not. A bite or a wound inflicted by a werewolf will transform a person—I learned that last fall,” Pero says, gesturing towards his scar with a grimace. “But losing control of our shift doesn’t occur during full moons. It happens when we meet our mate.”

You’re struck silent, blood roaring in your ears and heart throbbing against your ribcage, thinking you might fall over. Mate. As in one half of a matched pair. As in The One all the main protagonists in fairy tales dream of finding.

As in...a dead rabbit being dropped at your feet.

“When I caught your scent, my wolf went crazy. I tried to move on, to ignore you, but once you saved me from that damn trap...I knew leaving would be impossible.” You remember Pero limping when he walked around the forge. Yet another glaring sign right in front of your face you’d missed.

“That first month, I didn’t want you to find out what I am. I thought the wolf would be satisfied just seeing you everyday when you came by the forge. And he was for a while…”

“What changed?”

“That day we were alone in the forge, you said I seemed like a man who concealed many secrets. For a second I let myself think about telling you, and I lost control. My wolf is, well, possessive of you. He recognizes you as his mate and he doesn’t care about subtlety. He wasn’t laughing at you, little red. He was laughing because he believed he beat me in claiming you.”

Your eyes narrow. “First of all, I’m not a trophy or a piece of meat. I’m a human being with my own autonomy.” Although you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the sound of being loved by someone so completely they knew you mind, body, and soul. Someone who would put you first and let the rest of the world burn to ash. Someone who was both light and dark with an inner monster who was tame beneath your touch.

You press an accusatory finger into his chest, finding petty satisfaction in watching him flinch. “Secondly, do you know what I’m hearing an awful lot of? The wolf wants me. Not you. Quit giving me mixed signals, Pero. I need to know how you feel about me.” You pause, insecurity creeping into your voice. “Do you feel anything about me? Or just the wolf?”

Pero’s hands grab your wrists, not tight enough to hurt but enough to pull you forward so your body is flush against his. His eyes have no trace of gold in them—entirely brown and so breathtakingly human.

“I could live a thousand lifetimes and never want anyone more than I want you, little red.”

“Then why did you try to end things?” you ask, desperate to understand. “Why didn’t you reveal yourself when you brought me the rabbit? When I told you I loved you.”

“The only reason I tried to end things with you before they began was because I didn’t believe there was anyone who could love me as a wolf. But after you confessed,” he ducks his head, expression painfully vulnerable, “I knew I had to try harder as a man to earn your heart. I was going to tell you the truth about everything, I swear, but the storm...”

“What a foolish big bad wolf you are,” you whisper, unable to tear your gaze away from his, even when your noses brush. “You never had to earn my heart, Pero. Your appearance--wolf, man, any shape in-between--doesn’t matter. It was always going to be yours.”

Pero looks at you like you’ve just given him the moon and all the stars. He starts to lean in, only for you to stop him for a second time by holding your finger up against his lips. He blinks at you, a mixture of confusion and amusement shining in his eyes.

“There’s a lot we have to talk about still. About mates, and you being a werewolf, and our future. But…” You lower your hand to dig the wolf figurine out of the pocket of your cloak and hold it up for him to see. “This is me saying yes to figuring it all out together.”

He presses his forehead against yours, a pleased growl vibrating through his chest. “Would you say it, please? Say you’re mine.”

You grin and capture his mouth with yours, murmuring the words against his lips, “You’re mine.”

“Wolves and women wed for life.” ― George R.R. Martin

Stories start to circulate over the years about a quaint little village surrounded by a pine forest. What’s so special about it? A wolf calls the forest home, one with fur a unique shade of brown that looks red in the sunlight. And always by her side is her mate, a massive beast who’s as doting as he is protective. 

Hunters know better than to mess with the pair after Sir Ballard meets his fatal end trying to prove mythical monsters exist. 

“Look out for Little Red,” they start to warn one another. “Wherever she goes, her Shadow’s never far behind.”

Permanent Taglist: @promiscuoussatan @vintagesaph @over300books​ @chibi-yuki @theocatkov @oh-no-a-whovian @freeshavocadoooo @you-and-i-deserve-the-world @lin-djarin @happiestsparkleofall @randomness501 @gallowsjoker @absurdthirst @captain-jebi @leilei-draws @coaaster @pointy-sharp @stilllivindue2spite @melobee @artsymaddie @disgruntledspacedad @waywardmando @thisshipwillsail316 @mylifeofcalculatedchaos @grogusmum @asta-lily @sherala007 @mejswho @uncle-kenobi @tacticalsparkles @cannedsoupsucks @mandocrasis @pedro4ever @littlebopper96 @you-got-me-starry-eyed @kiss-evans @writeforfandoms @pbeatriz​ @anaaaispunk @tobealostwanderer @recklessworry @pumpkin-stars @stevie75 @dumb-npc @roxypeanut @justnat15 @tintinn16 @princess76179 @grumpymuffinmama

Pero Taglist: @a-skov @pedrosbisch @iamskyereads @banga-sama @disasterhann @coreychick @girlofchaos @chatterbean @reader-without-a-story​

Werewolf Pero: @thou-creature-of-the-deep @justaconsequence @fictitious-little-stitious @fan-of-encouragement @redmitsuru5 @idreamofboobear @curiouskeyboard @miscellaneousfangirling @kesskirata @heartsofbeskar @johnsrevelation @clydesducktape @the-ginger-hedge-witch @fucktheforce @lellowberry @pintsizemama @kestrelmando @hopeamarsu @unhinged-summer-fun @manndo @yoursisanemptyhope @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @librariantothejedi @lady-of-glass-and-bone @marydjarin @deadhumourist @99sth @littlepadika @adriiibell @fandom-blackhole @xx-small-town-witch-xx @mrsbentallmadge @songsformonkeys @hriive @hello-mooi @vghz82​ @iwantadecentblogname @quietpainter @breezythesimp @elegantduckturtle @jettia

[221bshrlocked]

Ok slightly different ask, what monster would the boys fall for if reader was the monster? (Because I also want to be sexy, powerful and possibly dangerous)

BRO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WATCHING ME???? I'M LITERALLY IN THE MIDDLE OF A TOVAR AND FAE/FAIRY FIC RIGHT NOW!!!! I may or may not release that on the same day I release the Werewolf Tovar fic...I'm after each and every single one of you. Taking yall down with me.

Ok so. Deep breathes I can do this.

Marcus Pike would go for a Siren/Mermaid. I know it's the same as what he would be but I don't know man I just see him being enchanted by their voice and then he sees how unlike mythology they are and they can be dangerous but you're different and he wants to give you a chance and he doesn't regret it because you are much more than he thought he deserves and you're all his and this is what love is supposed to be.

Oberyn Martell would go for a succubus/incubus. Nough said. He'd have all the sex in the world with either or both and it would be fucking wild.

Pero Tovar would go for sure fuck and fall in love with a Fae. They are dangerous but beautiful. Strong but passionate and submissive if they wanted. He would be so enraptured and the thought of knowing that the Fae could kill him in a heartbeat makes him so.fucking.hard and he just wants to see those pretty wings shimmer underneath his touch as he makes it feel good.

Mandalorian would, and this is just a hunch, go for the Hybrid Vampire/Werewolf and I only say this because you could be blindfolded and your other senses would be so heightened that he can actually keep you blindfolded around the ship and would know that you wouldn't be hurt. Also, your hunting skills would be through the fucking roof because of said heightened senses and you'd do a great fucking job protecting Grogu so he's actually already kind of in love with you but he keeps it to himself because he doesn't want you to think that he's trying to control you but eventually, he does tell you and you tell him that it's good he finally said it because you kind of already chose him as your mate and it would have been awkward if the feelings weren't mutual.

Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels would probably go for a Centaur. He's a cowboy for fuck's sake. (I'm so sorry but I am laughing so fucking hard over this because he'd take yeehaw to a whole other level you know...truth is, I don't know who Jack would go for hence me making this joke...any thoughts anyone?) Or maybe he'd go for the Satyr because you're different and you're actually very very shy and he wants to show you how much he loves you and he wants you to be more assertive and it would take a long time but he'd get there. Also, sex is fun with you because different anatomy and he loves a challenge.

Javier Pena would want to corrupt an Angel. It would be a game at first but then he sees how kind and sweet and perfect they are and he'd honest to God fall for them. Also, he'll never say this out loud, but when the wings flutter around him as he fucks into them, god. It's divine.

Frankie 'Catfish' Morales would love to be on the good side of a Shapeshifter but then it quickly turns into more because they kind of know when to turn into what animal to comfort him (PTSD) and he realizes that his emotions run deep deep and I just picture him snuggling with a cat or something you know.

Comandante Veracruz would for sure, 100%, go for the Demon. They're as shameless and uncaring about others as he is and it's perfection itself because he doesn't need to hide anymore or pretend to care when he really doesn't give a shit.

Marcus Moreno would be drawn to a Dragon because besides the strength, the danger, the beauty, and the marvelous personality, his daughter loves everything dragons and you have been so patient with her and showed her what you like to hoard because very dragon hoards things and seeing you interacting with his kid seals the deal. Sex is great btw because your skin shimmers like scales whenever he makes you cum and he doesn't get tired of it.

Ezra would go for the Nymph I think. They're fascinating peaceful creatures that can be really helpful when they're asked nicely and he'd get to fall in love with nature along with this nymph and I mean...forest sex. Come on. Please.

Maxwell Lord would go for the Djinn. They'd grant him all his heart's desires and he'd be wrapped around their finger because he can get anything and everything he wants and all the Djinn wants is to get fucked real good by him.

Dave York would fall head over heels in love with a Vampire...if he does that sort of thing. Because let's face it, they're as dark and strong as him and he doesn't have to tone down his more aggressive tastes with a Vampire. I know not many find this interesting but when it comes to Vampire fanfiction, there's something about swapping blood that screams intimacy and lust.

Max Phillips would be so fascinated by Werewolves. His kind and their kind are not meant to mix you know and it's taboo and no one ever crossed that line but you're so fucking gorgeous and strong and always thirsty for more and he knows for a fact that no one would ever compare.

Again, yall, let me hear your opinions on these??? Because your comments always tend to full-on oneshots so hey...bother me with your thots.

[psychedelic-ink]

hello everyone! here you'll find all the fics I've written for the haunted hoedown! like I said before I won't be doing kinktober this year so this is my mini kinktober for the year 2023 🎃 i tried to add more characters from my other fandoms but once again i ended up using mostly pedro characters lol whoops

hope y'all enjoy the hoedown and keep it spooky everyone! 🦇

find all fics on AO3

♡ DAY ONE ➡ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆. stepbrother!frankie x santi's gf!reader

taboo au + "i'll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into."

♡ DAY TWO ➡ 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄. dave york x f!reader

murder plot au (lets kill this person together) + "crawl to me"

♡ DAY THREE ➡ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋. priest!ezra x f!reader

priest au + “worship me. until i tell you to stop.”

♡ DAY FOUR ➡ 𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍. ai-enhanced!miguel o’hara x f!reader

artificial intelligence au + "here, you are. you tiny thing."

♡ DAY FIVE ➡ 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐓. animal shapeshifter!pero tovar x f!reader

animal shapeshifter au + "you're not actually scared are you? of me?"

♡ DAY SIX ➡ 𝐂𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘. joel miller x f!reader

slasher / summer camp au + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

♡ DAY SEVEN ➡ 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒. jack daniels x f!reader

cosmic horror au + "you're a fucking nightmare. kiss me."

♡ DAY EIGHT ➡ 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐒. cult leader!din djarin x f!reader

cult au + “do you like it when i bleed for you?”

♡ DAY NINE ➡ 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖. tasm!peter parker x f!reader

zombie apocalypse au + "every moment might be our last, let's make the most of it."

♡ DAY TEN ➡ 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐓. marcus pike x f!reader

inspired by your favorite lana del rey song + “don't you know how sick with love i am for you?”

♡ DAY ELEVEN ➡ 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊. fallen angel!joel miller x f!reader

cyberpunk au + fallen angel au + “i will keep hurting. i will keep killing. anything to protect you.”

♡ DAY TWELVE ➡ 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐗𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒. oberyn martell x f!reader x max phillips

vampire court au + "forever isn't long enough for me to forgive you."

some of the works above will contain dark themes and situations. if that is not your thing please just skip them. every fic will have additional warnings. minors please dni.

if you like what you see please reblog and comment to show support 🖤

[psychedelic-ink]

please do not laugh at me for making a poll for this if you fo i will cry

but anyways i'm trying to decide if animal shapeshifter!pero tovar should have two dicks or one?? (he can shapeshift into any animal but his main form is with wings like howl's beast form from howl's moving castle because pero is cursed because why not)

LIKE I SAID IF YOU LAUGH AT ME I WILL CRY

jk i wont but pls still dont laugh

and if you have no idea what i mean when I say howl

my cursed lil birb <3

[psychedelic-ink]

* i do not give permission for any of my works to be copied, reposted or translated (without my knowledge)

TV SHOWS & MOVIES MASTERLIST

PPCU MASTERLIST.

🔮 personal favorite || ☔️ smut || 🤧 angst || 🧁 fluff || 🩸 dark content

Me & Mine (feat. ezra) ☔️

after coming to a new city, you find yourself in your hotel room with two unbelievably attractive men.

Like That (modern!pero tovar) ☔️

There's a storm raging outside and you go down to the basement to look at a Pero's knife collection while he's gone.

Afterglow ☔️🧁

thanks to a reservation mishap, and an unexpected breakup via text, you find yourself sharing valentines dinner with a charming stranger.

Menuet ☔️

animal shapeshifter au + "you're not actually scared are you? of me?"

you decide to take a swim in a lake that is deep in the middle of the forest. during your swim, pero finds you, and he's not happy that you went out alone during a full moon.

Lost Time and History ☔️

history professor!pero tovar x f!reader

you've been suspicious for a while from the way he speaks. talking about historic events with such an affinity as if he's actually been there. the thought refuses to leave your mind and brings you to his office where he gives you answers but not without a price.

Dear God ☔️

The candle light gives him a menacing look. A yellow hue coating one side as the other is buried in the darkness. His fingers deep inside, thrusting in and out as you claw the sheets.

Glimpse of Us ☔️

You have never given a proper blowjob before , a blowjob that you enjoyed, and the thought of it fills you with anxiety. Your previous partners were either mean or didn't care about your pleasure, so the idea of performing oral sex has never appealed to you.

Like That 🧁

Three times in Pero's lifetime, fate intertwined your paths. Once in his twenties, then in his thirties, and yet again in his forties, you were brought together, your lives intersecting in ways you couldn't predict.

Where The Lines Overlap

modern!pero tovar x f!reader

you go to a paramore concert and meet a charming stranger.

Ego & Black Powder ☔️

A prison guard shouldn’t be infatuated with a prisoner. Simple as that. But this new prisoner who you didn’t know the name of, made this rule very difficult to follow.