#peter rumancek imagine

[emmyrosee]

Hello Emmy, may I request something for Roman x reader x Peter?

So... okay I dislike valentines day because I think it’s overrated 😂 what if they’re just all hanging out that day, like as ‘friends’ though all of them are kind of in love with each other and they just do a self care day? Not going to school, just hanging out and being cute and goofy?

UGH PUREEEEEE

Honestly you’d wake up in the arms of Peter with Roman just inches away from you, having been sleeping in Peter’s trailer to hide from the world and most judgement that comes with it.

You’d lift you phone to check the time and *gag* it’s Valentine’s Day. You’d tossed your phone across the room, flinching as it hits the wall and giggling as Peter’s gorgeous blues fly open to peer at you.

“That’s probably broken, ya know,” he teases, so you just roll your eyes and gently smack his chest with a grin, slowly pushing yourself up and allowing yourself to wake up and face the day.

“Rome, we gotta get going,” you hum, nudging him.

“Mm, fuck off,” Roman grumbles. “I’m not going to school, I’m not dealing with ridiculous lovey-dovey couples, I’m not doing it today.”

You roll your eyes again and toss your gaze to Peter for help, only for him to shrug and lay back down himself. You groan, “come on, I’ve got two friends with benefits and neither of you want to celebrate Valentine’s Day with me?”

“And you do want to celebrate this pathetic excuse for a holiday?”

“I didn’t say that,” you pout. “I just don’t want to face the ridiculousness alone.”

Finally, roman sits up and tosses an arm around you, kissing up your neck with a smirk. “Come on, baby,” he hums. “Lighten up... let’s just relax today, maybe we can go pick you out some nice lingerie, hmm?”

As soon as the word “lingerie” passes through Romans lips, Peter quickly sits up, grinning and making you laugh as he agrees with Romans idea.

So that’s what you end up doing.

You bum around the trailer all day, having lazy sex in the hammock and going to local shops to look at sexy outfits and toys (romans insistence), only to get some cheap fast food and bringing it back to the trailer to indulge in.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way 🥺🥰

[demolition-lov3rs]

I Want Someone Badly | flangst

Roman Godfrey/Siren!reader

warnings: really bad first time writing, teen drinking, lots of lip biting !!

a/n: first time writing for roman :) im just a bit nervy so be kind. please enjoy!

wc: 1.4k

summary: sirens don't fall in love, someone once said. when you met roman, you felt like having a little fun. getting him to fall in love, then making out with his best friend to break his heart. you'd done it so many times before it was second nature. you didn't even think love was real. until roman.

you hold your solo cup with a loose grip, letting the liquid drip out as you dance with some stranger. less of a stranger now that his hands are on your hips. you came to this party for him.

“roman, i need some air,” you lean in to say in his ear. he groans, letting go of you, and grumbling incoherently. he begrudgingly goes off to get another drink.

you walk around looking for an exit, as you're not paying attention to your surroundings someone bumps into you, hard.

“ouch! you bitch!” you push back the person who bumped into you. it's roman's cousin. she hates your guts because she thinks you're with her cousin. you feel someone else come behind you and place his hands on your hips again.

“leave her alone letha,” roman scolds her, pulling you away to an exit. you pout when you finally get outside, your concern about letha showing to roman.

“she really hates me,” your gaze falls to your aching feet. his hand brushes some hair behind your ear, its sweet.

“don't worry about her, you have better things to be concerned about,” he sighs. his hand lifts your face up, looking in your eyes now. you pout, making him feel bad for you. you fiddle with his other hand, biting your lip before letting it go.

“i told you to stop doing that,” he mumbles. you look down for a moment. you could win an Oscar with your performance here.

“we're not even dating, i don't know why she hates me so much,” you murmur. he kisses you, you gasp into it. it isn't sexy or lust filled, it's the sweetest kiss you've ever felt. so that it doesn't feel real when you become his girlfriend the same night.

you feel him beside you as you grab your book out of your locker.

“hey rome.” you know it's him, no one else would approach roman's girlfriend so casually. you lean back against your locker to face him, giving him the sweetest smile you can. you hate how perfect he looks in this light. his hair falling nicely on his forehead, and the light hitting his perky nose.

“can i come over today?” you ask him with pleading eyes and the cutest pout you can muster. he smiles at your pout and bites his lip in mock thought.

“i don't know, can you?” je teases with the biggest smile. you roll your eyes and lean in, looking directly into his eyes. your almost scary gaze pulls him into a dreamlike trance.

“roman i'm coming over tonight,” he can't deny a siren's power. even as an upir. you smirk as he snaps out of your trance. your smirk drops into a small frown to play the part of the concerned girlfriend.

“everything okay, rome? you left me there for a minute,” you ask, brushing some of his hair from his face as he zones back in.

“what? i'm fine, get your hands off my face,” he pulls your hand away from his hair. you know you only have a few minutes until the bell will ring so you place a light kiss on his cheek.

“see you tonight rome,” you relent, closing your locker and walking off once the bell rings.

you pull into the driveway of the godfrey residence, never having been there before you notice an unknown car. it's peter's car. you stop yourself from smiling too soon, you can't give away your intentions. as you knock on the front door, you look at the extravagant house. you're so focused you barely notice when the door swings open to reveal your boyfriend. what snaps you out is when he calls out your name.

“hey rome! is peter here too?” you try to appear nonchalant bringing peter up. he moves aside to let you in, but wraps his arm around you in a hug.

“yea, i can ask him to leave if you want,” he mumbles in your ear. he presses the softest kiss to your hairline. you feel like throwing up when your heart races, it's gonna be so fun breaking up with him.

“no it's fine, i needed to talk to him anyway,” you smile up at him. roman gives you a curious look, but neither of you dig into it. as you get to his bedroom you look around before setting your sights on peter. this is the perfect opportunity. but you don't want to do it anymore. you look over at roman, giving him a small smile.

“rome, could you get me a soda? i'll take whatevers in your fridge,” you ask with a pout. he nods with an amused expression as he walks out, leaving you and peter alone.

you look over at peter, biting your lip as you think about your options. your nature calls you to break man in any way possible. but, you like roman. roman seems to like you too.

“peter,” you get his attention quickly. making eye contact you reach deep into his consciousness. you really don't wanna hurt roman anymore. you allow Peter to fall under the trance a few moments longer before the guilt sets in. you haven't even done anything yet and you feel the guilt. suddenly, you look away from him and rush out of the room. you stop right outside of the room and try to remember the way out of the house to no avail. you run off into a direction you somewhat recognize. almost pummeling into the man of the hour you feel tears start to come to your eyes.

“hey, sweetheart? Is everything okay?” he pauses, thinking of what could be going on, “did peter do something? i'll kick his ass if he did!” he looks down at you, trying to wrap you into a hug.

you cry some more and push away from him.

“let go of me, roman!” you exclaim before running off into the direction he came from. he calls your name, watching you run away before following after and yelling for you to stop and tell him what's wrong.

“roman, i'm what's wrong! i can't love you! i don't know how,” you exclaim almost wildly with tears in your eyes. he stares at you with shock apparent on his face. you both stand in silence for a few moments before he drags you over and wraps you in a hug. you cry into his shoulder for a few minutes, he lightly rubs your back and smooths your hair down. he pulls away when you stop crying. your mascara and eyeliner is all over your face and his nice sweater.

“god i ruined your sweater,” your lips curl and you almost start crying again, “i ruin everything.”

roman gently brings a hand up to wipe your new tears away. he rests his hands on your cheeks.

“what is going on with you?” he looks so concerned when he asks, you immediately come clean.

"i'm not human,” you breathe out, looking at everything but roman. he scoffs, holding you still. brushing some hair behind your ear he says, “hey look at me sweetheart.”

you look up at him, letting go of your bitten lip.

“it's okay, i'm not human either,” he holds your chin gently. you laugh a bit, confusing him.

“roman i knew you were an upir,” you say, shocking him a bit. when he gets over the shock he gives you an inquisitive look.

“why didn't you tell me?” he raises an eyebrow waiting for the shoe to drop.

“i didn't think we would last this long. i was planning on breaking it off tonight,” you're ashamed of your ways. he's taken aback, almost letting go of you.

“why?” he feels betrayed, but he wants to know why. he's at least owed that.

“siren's don't love, they just break men's hearts. i didn't know any better before you,” you explain, ready to plead with him. pride is not one of your concerns anymore. he's aghast, but he knows there's a reason you added the last part.

“i think i fell in love with you roman,” you confess breathlessly, watching him carefully. his face crumbles.

“i've been in love with you,” he confesses with an almost smile. you're crying again, as he pulls your face to his in a sweet kiss. you both apologize between kisses until you need to pull back for air. resting your foreheads together you intertwined your fingers in his.

“i'll never leave you again roman,” you breathe.

“i'll never let you feel like you're not loved again, sweetheart,” he says with the biggest smile.

tell me what you think! like if you liked it :)

[mythicalcowboyatheart]

Being besties with Peter and Roman hc's

An: these are just goofy little hc's I thought of enjoy!

• Asking Peter to do something and asking him "would you do it for a Scooby snack?"

• lots of Twilight jokes

• horror movie nights at Peters

• always getting Roman and Peter (mostly Roman) out of trouble

• funny nicknames for them

• Roman is Sparkles

• Peter is Loca

[theweekndsbbymama]

real.

i can’t fix him but we can still have sex.

[alphabetbill]

Macabre [ HEMLOCK GROVE ] - chapter 1

" 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧, 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤, 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠- 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 "

[ C I C A D A ] hosho mccreesh.

___________________________________________________________

~ description ~

A werewolf whose only skill is running from his fears, a half-upir with no idea of the true darkness lying inside of him, and a girl found alive in the woods months after her mysterious death.

Some secrets in Hemlock Grove should have just stayed buried. In a town that isn't so sleepy after all, monsters of all kinds are wide awake under the surface, crawling their way up.

~ warnings~

This story will contain mature and heavy themes that may involve potentially explicit content, gore and murder, talk of kidnapping and stalking victims, supernatural/paranormal/religious themes and trauma, any other themes not covered in the general description will probably be tagged here at the start of the chapters that other significant warnings apply to.

A list will be linked here upon completion and upload of each chapter:

Cicada and the Snake

Chapter 1 . Chapter 2 . Chapter 3 . Chapter 4 . Chapter 5 . Chapter 6 . Chapter 7 . Chapter 8 . Chapter 9 . Chapter 10 . Chapter 11 .

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

c h a p t e r    o n e .

Peter Rumancek

<<>>

IT WAS WITH A HEAVY HEART SOMEWHERE INSIDE THAT Lance Evergreen would lay his daughter to finally rest, but not heavy enough.

On a muggy October evening, the man would stumble into his house, more of a trailer trash dwelling than anything, and hit the drinks as though he had never left them. Judith had been gone for months, and in his mind, seeing them lower her battered corpse into a hole in the ground where he would never see her again felt almost offensively anti-climactic. He had dreamt of the worst-case scenario over and over again, had imagined how it happened, when and why. How they would find her and what would be left of her.

By the time her body was found dumped in that ditch, in his head, Lance had already seen it all.

He had already mourned. He would never stop.

Peter went to visit him the day after the funeral.

He kicked his way through discarded beer cans and shattered bottles that spilled sticky ichor onto the bare particle board. He thought Uncle Vince was bad, given his lethal alcoholism that had eventually killed him, but this was just sad and Peter was just sad.

He knew Lance as well as he had known Vince, the two men having been close friends. Peter knew that Lance had an ex-wife, Judith's mother, who had shown up for the funeral and left promptly afterwards. Peter hadn't known her all that well from the couple of times he met the woman when he was little, but he had seen the way she clung to her cigarette and never said a word to anyone at the funeral. She used to be a local, but neither his uncle or Lance had brought it up so he had never had a reason to ask why she left. They also had a son who died.

Peter had also known Judith, which only made his heart squeeze more to think about it. He had fond memories of throwing worms at each other, collecting snails as kids, and gathering around Nicolae Rumancek to observe the fairy he had caught in a mason jar. He remembered so clearly how Jude was so adamant that it was in fact not a fairy, but a firefly, and that Peter's grandfather ought to let it go. Now his grandfather was gone, the girl was gone, and all he had left were faded recollections to remember it all by.

The man was already out cold by the time he reached the couch, which had been torn up by a dog- he could tell from the scent. It must have died not too long ago, because the food bowl still sat in the corner of the kitchen, flies buzzing around it. Peter took it upon himself to dispatch the old food with a hollow feeling in his chest and returned to the living room.

It was difficult to see how much this man had changed. Peter had fond memories of Lance giving him shoulder rides and driving around in his car. He remembered his stories, many of which he and Vince made up, and remembered how life-like and exciting he had been. Now all that was left was a husk of the soul of a man- a man with a failed marriage, two dead kids and one dead best friend. Alone in the world to drink and then die.

Peter didn't know what to do to fix his uncle's friend. He didn't know how to help his sad, hulking body off the couch when he had no interest in learning how to move. He didn't know how to console a father whose daughter was gone. But he did know that he wanted to be there for him, and that he wanted to help.

So, he helped. All while the man had drank himself into a stupor, the boy found his way to the kitchen and to the garbage bags beneath the rusted sink with the constant drip. He put the bottles, the cans, the wrappers, and all of the litter that his eye could see into the bag and hauled that bag out to the trash. He came back. He repeated the process.

It should not have been Peter's job to clean up this mess, but for once he didn't mind doing it. It felt almost therapeutic to cleanse the trailer of the mess and the alcohol and the despair he wished Uncle Vince had the chance to. The last thing he did was pry the bottle from his hand and set it away on the kitchen table. 

Then Lance muttered in his sleep. Something something not worth it anymore.

When Peter came home later, he hugged his mother. He loved Lynda and she loved him, but they had never been a family for too much sentimentalism. Tonight was different. He needed that hug. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to never hug her again.

The following day at school felt like walking through a land of zombies. Peter was new to town, having arrived a couple of weeks prior to Judith Evergreen's funeral. He didn't know whether or not it was because of that, that everyone here seemed so lifeless and flat. He didn't think so, because he only found one or two funeral flyers dangling from the noticeboards, all of which had been trampled on or discarded on the floor.

It was the end of the day and Peter was in the middle of picking up one of the memorial notices for her when Roman Godfrey spoke to him for the first time.

"So you knew her," he said. A statement, not a question. His eyes– those eyes– tore right through the flesh and into his soul.

Peter knew at once that the boy was upir. He could sense it from a mile away, from the very first time he had glanced in the rich boy's direction on his first day at school. He could sense it like a serpent shifting beneath Roman's skin in the dark.

Roman was impossibly tall for the age of seventeen and had a face that had been morbidly carved by the holiest of angels. His hair was brown and loose, unlike his crisp blazer or tucked-in shirt and trousers. Peter wondered if the boy could smell his blood.

"Yeah. When I was a kid" he replied, anything to erase the unbearable cloud of tension that was the upir standing behind him.

"Mm. It's weird. I knew her too," Roman said. His voice didn't sound sympathetic, or if it did, it fronted as disjointed and monotone. "You want a lift home?"

It was raining and Peter had no interest in walking until he became a soggy wet dog. So he accepted. 

The car was a vintage cherry red Jaguar, which Roman explained had belonged to his father. Peter wasn't sure what he was meant to do with this information but nonetheless continued to listen. The ride was relatively quiet and the radio hummed in the stretches of silence between admittedly one sided conversations. 

"You're new in town," Roman said, making small talk.

"Are you a Gypsy?" he asked, but surprisingly not in that sneering way most other folk did.

"People at school say you're a werewolf. Is it true?" he questioned, as if Peter hadn't heard the rumours already, much like a subtle interrogation.

All of those things were correct, but Peter scooted around the last question by declaring that he was just an obscenely hairy teenager. 

The car stopped on the side of the road near a slope that rolled down into a clearing, pulling up just in front of a rusted mailbox. 

"You're related to Vince," Roman evaluated, seeming to recognize the dwelling. "He used to work for my mom at one point."

Peter had not known about that, and briefly found himself wondering what exactly his uncle had been doing with Olivia Godfrey. A strange, unnerving woman indeed.

As he thanked the rich boy and got out of the car, retrieving the mailbox, a car drove by.

Peter jolted. 

In the seconds it had taken for the other vehicle to pass, a girl had appeared sitting in the passenger seat of Roman's car, where Peter had only been sitting seconds ago. In the small window of time he caught a glimpse of her, he saw black and blue and gray skin and teary, blood-filled eyes.

He saw Judith Evergreen, and then she disappeared.

"Something wrong?" Roman asked, viridian eyes narrowing. 

After taking a moment to settle himself, unconvincingly the werewolf shook his head. The Upir left, but not without staring at Peter for a little longer than what was considered a normal duration of time to stare at someone. 

He descended the old wooden staircase and into the clearing by the river where his home, previously Vince's, sat overlooking the water. He entered, greeting his mother, and opened the fridge to pop open a beer. 

"So what's up with the Godfreys?" he asked, swigging from the bottle as he went over to plunge into the couch, stretching lazily to reach the remote and flicking on the TV.

"Bad business," Lynda said as she sipped on her cup of tea, already seated on the couch. "You should steer clear of them."

"The boy, Roman. He's an upir. I don't think he knows it himself," he sighed. All he could think about was the sinking feeling he got when he was near him, the feeling of drowning slowly, or being buried alive beneath the burning weight of his stare alone. Despite this, Peter couldn't deny his nagging intrigue. Call it morbid curiosity.

"He dropped you home?"

"He offered. It was raining."

Lynda said nothing in response, but Peter knew what she would have said. 

Be careful with him.

That night Peter sat down on the edge of his bed and found himself staring through his window and out into the woods. In those woods, he thought he saw a girl.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

boring but we're getting there i swear also oh my god i'm actually posting for once????

anyways this is also on wattpad and chapter two will be out very soon :) i'll shut my mouth now.

[voidofsunlight]

Peter Rumancek — NSFW ALPHABET

Word Count: 1,603

A/N: Hello! 🩷 I'm sorry I’ve been less active! Don’t be afraid to send in requests or messages! This is also my first time writing for Peter outside of C.AI, so i hope you like it (they're just my headcanons/ what i imagine he's be like please don''t come for me)—enjoy ✨😊

LINKS: 🧸 my C.ai profile! // 📜 my main masterlist! // 🫂 Click here to send me a request or message

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Peter treats aftercare like a sacred ritual. You’re his—and that means making sure you’re comfortable, cherished, taken care of. He’ll run his fingers through your hair, pressing soft kisses along your shoulder, murmuring how perfect you are. If you’re sore, he’ll massage your legs with those strong, warm hands, his touch both soothing and possessive. And if you’re feeling vulnerable, he pulls you into his chest, skin against skin, grounding you with the steady beat of his heart. He doesn’t just take care of you—he makes sure you never doubt how much he needs you.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On Himself: His arms. He loves the way they wrap around you, how easily he can lift you, pin you down, make you safe. When he’s holding you, there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.

On You: Your stomach and thighs. He’s obsessed. The softness, the warmth, the way his fingers sink into your flesh when he grips you. He kisses and bites, marking you like he’s claiming territory. If you’ve ever felt insecure about any part of yourself, Peter will worship it out of you until you forget why you ever doubted.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Messy as hell. He doesn’t particularly care where it goes—your stomach, your thighs, your mouth. If you let him finish inside, he’s feral for it, groaning at the sight of you dripping with him. Something about the rawness of it, the possessiveness, the fact that you let him have you like that? It ruins him in the best way.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Peter lives for the thought of you needing him. He’s imagined it before—you, alone, fingers between your thighs, whimpering his name, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough, not without him. If you ever confess you’ve touched yourself thinking about him, he’ll lose his goddamn mind.

And then there’s the risk. He won’t admit it outright, but he gets off on the danger of being caught—or worse, losing control. He’s fantasized about fucking you in the woods, in the backseat of his car, even during a full moon transformation. A part of him craves the raw, untamed thrill of it, the idea that he could snap, could completely devour you.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Peter’s no stranger to sex, but it’s never been about racking up numbers. He’s instinctual, primal, a lover who follows chemistry over technique. He’s had a couple of partners, but he’s the type to make each one feel like they’re the only person in the world when he’s with them. When it comes to you? He’s all in—learning, memorizing, worshipping.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Against a wall, deep and rough, your legs wrapped around him, breathless and completely at his mercy. He loves the way your body molds to his, the way he can hold you up.

But he’s not all about roughness. He also adores lazy morning sex—slow thrusts, messy kisses, rolling over you with no rush, no urgency, just the need to be as close to you as possible.

And then, of course, there’s doggy style. Something about the angle, the way he can grip your hips and just lose himself? It’s his weakness. (and also because he’s a dog lol sorry i had to)

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

A shit-talker in bed. Peter grins against your skin, murmurs teasing comments in your ear, make you laugh and laughs with you

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Naturally hairy, and he doesn’t care much about grooming. His chest and stomach have a light trail, and his stubble always scrapes against your skin when he kisses you. The carpet matches the drapes, but it’s not completely untamed.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Peter feels everything intensely, but he won’t always show it in words. His version of romance is lazy, confident, and completely consuming—he’ll look you in the eyes with so much heat it makes your stomach flip. He holds your jaw when he kisses you, almost possessive, like he needs to keep you close. It’s not just sex with him. It’s always more.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

 He does it often but not religiously. If he’s in the mood and you’re not around, he’ll handle it—but honestly? He much prefers the real thing. Nothing compares to you.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Marking. He gets possessive in bed

Worship Kink. You’re everything to him. He needs you to know that. Needs you to feel it in the way he touches you, the way he praises you, the way he looks at you like you hung the stars.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere outdoors. Woods, the hood of his car, a secluded alley. He likes the thrill and the rawness of it.

Public but discreet? Even better. Pulling you into a bathroom at a bar, hand over your mouth, grinning the whole time? That’s his kind of fun.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your voice. If you whimper, moan, or even sigh too sweetly, he’s instantly rock-hard.

"Fuck, say that again," he groans, pressing his forehead to yours. "The way you moan for me—God, it’s gonna kill me someday."

The thrill of getting caught. He gets off on risk and spontaneity.

Your scent. It drives him insane. The way you say his name, the way your breath catches when he touches you, the way you look at him like he’s the only person in the world. He thrives on it.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that makes you uncomfortable or anything that makes you feel less than worshiped. He wants you to feel cherished.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving: Absolutely ravenous about it—messy, unrelenting, and the way you tangle your fingers in his hair only spurs him on. He’s a man who devours, lips and tongue working in tandem until you’re breathless, thighs shaking around his head.

"Hold still, baby. Lemme you feel good."

Receiving: Leans back, hands in your hair, deep groans rumbling in his chest. He’s the type to talk you through it, praising and teasing in equal measure.

“That’s it, take me deeper—fuck, just like that.”

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

 Either fast and rough or slow and intense. There’s no in-between. He doesn’t do lazy, half-hearted sex—it’s all or nothing. When he takes you, it’s either with a desperate hunger or a deep, consuming passion that leaves you trembling.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Big fan—he’s the type to do it anywhere and everywhere.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Extremely risky. He’s done it in places he absolutely shouldn’t— loves the way you grip onto him, half-terrified and fully turned on.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

High stamina—he can go for multiple rounds, especially on a full moon. His endurance is supernatural, and he’ll push you to your limit, only stopping when you’re completely spent.

Feral when he’s in the mood—he’ll chase you, pin you, make you laugh

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not big on toys for himself. On a you? Loves the idea of controlling a vibrator on you

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Peter is a tease—but a sweet one. He loves drawing things out, making you beg, but he won’t torture you with it. If you give him those puppy eyes and ask nicely? He’ll give you what you want.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not super loud, but definitely vocal. He’ll moan, especially when you do something that catches him off guard. The occasional gruff “fuck” in your ear when you squeeze around him, the way he groans when he buries himself to the hilt—deep, needy sounds that send heat straight to your core.

"Shit—yeah, just like that," he groans, voice rough. "You feel so fucking good."

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Wants to have sex with you on the full moon, when he’s less in control of himself. When his senses are heightened, his instincts sharper, and he needs you in a way that’s animalistic. He’ll warn you—tell you it’ll be rough, tell you he won’t be able to stop until he’s fully satisfied—but that only makes it hotter.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Length: 6.5/7 inches—more than enough to make an impression without being overly intimidating. Girth: Decently thick—fills a hand nicely and demands attention. Curve: A subtle, teasing curve to the left—perfectly imperfect, just like him.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Ridiculously high sex drive. If you let him, he’d have you every night, every morning, every stolen moment in between. He craves you constantly, and it shows in the way he looks at you, touches you, claims you.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Falls asleep fast, but only after pulling you against his chest, nuzzling into your hair. If he’s in a particularly lazy mood, he might not even pull out first.

┈ஓ๑✧༚♡༚✧๑ஓ┈

PLEASE DO NOT COPY / TRANSLATE OR REPOST AS YOUR OWN!

©Voidofsunlight

[blindddwitchhh]

Who is Claudia?

------------------------------------------------------＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* I'm in a clique, but I want out. ˚ *•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚-----------------------------------------------

Full Name: Claudia Marie Rumancek

Nickname(s): Dia, Di.

Pronouns: She/Her

Gender: female

Gender Assigned at Birth: female

Age: 19

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Polyamorous or Monogamous: Monogamous 

Species: Witch

------------------------------------------------------＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ i cant learn my lesson ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚---------------------------------------------

Birthplace: Hemlock Grove, PA

Hometown: Hemlock Grove, PA

Did OC Move Around a lot (Yes/No): no

Current Living Place: Hemlock Grove, PA

Does OC Move Around a lot (Yes/No): No

Bedroom Aesthetic: pin.it/1iNc8HV6E

House Aesthetic: Destiny's_Apartment?file=Desti

Is House/Room Messy or Organized: Room Is messy but House is organized.

---------------------------------------------------------------＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ i cant do shit right＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚-----------------------------------------------------------Job/Occupation: Waitress at the Local Diner.

Skills: Witchcraft, making music.

Habits: Stuttering, having a short fuse

Hobbies: playing guitar, singing.

Social Status: Ambivert

---------------------------------------------------------------＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ take anti-depressants＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚-------------------------------------------------------Mental Disorder(s): Depression

 Physical inabilities:Sight (blind).

Addiction(s): N/A

Is OC on Medication(s) (Yes/No): No

↳ (If Yes) For What: N/A

Mental State: 50 percent

---------------------------------------------------------------＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ illness and welfare robbed my adolescence＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚------------------------------

Backstory: Claudia has always lived with her older sister Destiny and her family even before she lost her eye sight at 10 due to a hex being casted on her, since the accident she always followed her older sister Destiny and her cousin Peter since she was close to both of them.

Earliest Memory: Her earliest memory was when she was 3, playing outside with Peter and Destiny, finding out that she had witch powers for the first time.

Favorite Memory: Her favorite memory was when Destiny and Peter were pulling pranks on each other when they were younger.

Scarring Moment(s): Her scarring Moment was when she lost her eyesight and feeling unable to do anything about it. 

How did this effect OC: She tries to do other things so she wouldn't feel the pain of losing her sight, she often made music or walk through nature as the sounds always calmed her and imagining what life looked like in her head.

Have They Changed a Lot Since Childhood-Now (Yes/No): Yes

Brief Education Description: She's in her senior year of highschool and isn't sure what she wants to do after she graduates.

---------------------------------------------------------------＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ my friends probably hate me＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚-----------------------------------------------Mother(s): N/A

Father(s): Vince Rumancek 

Parent(s): Vince Rumancek (Father)

Sibling(s):Destiny Rumancek 

More Family: Lynda Rumancek  (Aunt),  Peter Rumancek (Cousin), Nicolae Rumancek (Grandmother)

Best Friend(s): Peter Rumancek, Destiny Rumancek

Friend(s):  Letha Godfrey, Roman Godfrey (later to be her Crush.), Shelley Godfrey

Enemy(ies): Olivia Godfrey

Ex(es):N/A

Crush(es): Roman Godfrey

Love Interest: Roman Godfrey ---------------------------------------------------------------＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ cant answer a message＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚----------------------------------------------------------------------How Does OC Deal With Stress: walking through nature or blasting music.Comforts for OC: Darkwave Music and Chocolate Cake.

Nervous Habits of OC: She dyes her hair or cuts it when she wants to change herself and often sneaks out when she wants to run away from reality.

---------------------------------------------------------------＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ always be hidin me＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚----------------------------------------------------------------------Eye Color: Brown

Eye Shape: Downturned

Vision: 0/20 

↳ Does OC Wear Contacts/Glasses/Both:N/A

Hair Color: Brunette 

Hair Length: Long (To her Hips)

Hair Style(s): Wavy (but often straightens her hair)

Skin Color: Pale white

Body Shape: Hourglass

Height: 5'3

Weight: 130

Tattoo(s): A Pentagram on her left hip, a crescent moon on her right wrist and a Rose on her lower back.Piercing(s): N/A

Makeup Style: N/A

Outfit Style: Her style is a mix between a nature fairy and a dark witch. She often wears long skirts or tethered clothes as she has a grungy Aesthetic. 

Distinct Feature(s): She has a star birthmark on the right side of her waist.Freckle(s): In her upper nose area.

---------------------------------------------------------------＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ feeling inadequate's always what's driving me＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚----------------------------------------------------------------------

Speaking Voice Claim: Lana Del Rey.--------------------------------------------------------------

-＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ not a role model＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚----------------------------------------------------------------------Extra Information on OC: Her favorite food is anything Peanut Butter and Chocolate, Her favorite drink are monster energy drinks. She smokes weed and She doesn't like tomatoes. She is also a shy girl but will defend her loved ones until she dies, she is always quiet but also can be rebellious when she feels like it. ---------------------------------------------------------------＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ that's not what i strive to be＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚------------------------------------------------------------------------- --- --- < Credit to: OC Central > --- --- ---

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

Hey again! I was wondering if I could request an imagine or headcannon (whichever you prefer) for Hemlock Grove where the reader is in a polyamorous relationship with Peter and Roman? Maybe where the reader is having a rough week and they try to cheer her up?

I started watching the show (I’m on season two now) a few weeks ago and I was so excited to see it on your list!

Thank you so much!!! 💕

i don't know much about polyamory but everyone is so valid and so wonderful!!!! <3 <3

PETER x ROMAN x reader headcanons

it was more than being unable to choose, you simply loved both of them and they loved you

between the two of them things got a little blurry, since they spend so much time fighting, that was the worst; when they'd storm off and you had to pick which one to follow

at least they never got angry at you

they have very different ideas of what would keep you safe. peter wants to keep you far away from the trouble, but roman wants you as close to his side as you can possibly be (which was usually where the danger was)

but the one thing that they agree on is you're the priority when shit is going down

above all else, they have to protect you

if you're having a bad day they'll both sit with you on the couch

just one big cuddle sandwich

until you either laugh with them, or tell them what's wrong

but they'll always be there for you <3

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Imagine your boyfriend Roman holding you when you worry about your other boyfriend peter while he’s transforming

[mythicalcowboyatheart]

Fanfiction Prompts

»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►

(I will be adding more prompts just give me time)

Prompts:

"I wanna baby"

pregnancy hcs

do they dance

first kiss hcs

wedding hcs

"will you marry me?"

doing their makeup hcs

drunk karaoke songs

would they send nudes

3 sum

ass or tits

skinny dipping

oral hcs

caught (specify if you want a sfw or nsfw)

"You say you love me and then you say we can't be together. That is not fair!"

"If we don't work out... I can't risk losing my best friend."

"Your moans are my favourite sound."

"Tease me some more and I'll show you my reaction."

"I haven't said that we're done here already."

"Staying quiet was never your strong suit, wasn't it?"

"Make me shut up then."

"I will give that mouth something to do."

"A little biting never hurt nobody."

"Come on, don't just undress me with your eyes."

"I have dreamed of this, but this is so much better."

"Can you feel how my body is reacting to you?"

"Who knew that you're hiding such a dirty mind."

"Getting you naked was just the first part of my plan for the night."

"Let's have some fun we won't forget in the morning."

"You're wearing way too many clothes for what I have in mind."

"Can you feel how much I want you?"

"I can never get enough of your taste."

"I want to ruin you."

"Your tongue is truly extraordinary."

"I have seen you naked before."

"No bed needed."

"Sleep is overrated. I have better ideas."

"I could do this all day. And definitely all night."

"Let's get you out of those clothes."

"I can never seem to get enough of you."

"How about we continue this somewhere more private?"

"I went to the gym, so I will be able to hold you up even longer."

"How about we get really dirty before we shower, so that it's actually worth the effort?"

"Reality is even better than my dreams."

"I told you, you would eventually start begging."

"Oh, you're such a tease!"

"I'm not necessarily hungry for food right now."

"You're so tense, do you want me to make you more relaxed?"

"Hmm, is that a threat or a promise?"

"Who would have thought that this is something that you're into?"

"You're a lot more flexible than I thought."

"I want to please you."

"Tell me what you would want to do, if you were here right now."

"Your shirt got a little dirty, how about we take it off?"

"I want to give you a hickey, so everyone can see how I feel about you."

"Oh, I love that sound you make."

"Do you want to take it off or should I do it for you?"

"I never imagined you to be so sensitive, but I love it."

"Maybe you could use that mouth for more than just talking nonsense."

"If we weren't in public right now..."

"Your hand feels much better than my own"

"Come on, you have to work for it."

"I'll take it that you like what you see."

"Your moans will wake everyone up and I'm oddly fine with that."

"I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist."

"Don't act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago."

"We should probably leave, before we start a scandal."

"Stop looking at me like that or my knees will not hold me any longer."

"I think you lost your underwear somewhere."

"Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you."

"I could make you feel better."

"Get back down here, we're not done yet."

"Later you will definitely need to tell me where you learned this."

"I know I should care about the reason why you're naked in my bed, but I will just enjoy it for a moment."

»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►

Characters:

• Billy Loomis (Scream)

• Stu macher (Scream)

• Ethan Landry (Scream)

• Norman Bates (Psycho)

• Tiffany Valentine (Chucky)

• Art the clown (Terrifier)

• Herbert West (Re-animator)

• Jennifer check (Jennifer's body)

• Colin Grey (Jennifer's body)

• Brahms Heelshire (The boy)

• Patrick Bateman (American psycho)

• Ash Williams (Evil dead)

• Mike Schmidt (Five nights at Freddy's)

• Roman Godfrey (Hemlock Grove)

• Peter Rumancek (Hemlock Grove)

• Adrian Chase (Peacemaker)

• Jerome Valeska (Gotham)

• Jeremiah Veleska (Gotham)

• Edward nygma (Gotham)

• Peter Parker (The amazing Spider-Man)

• Peter Maximoff (X-Men)

• Spencer Charnas (Ice Nine Kills)

• Andy Black (Black Veil Brides)

• Gerard Way (My Chemical Romance)

• Frank Iero (My Chemical Romance)

• Ian Gallagher (Shameless U.S.)

• Mickey (Shameless U.S.)

• Bo Sinclair (House of wax)

• Vincent Sinclair (House of wax)

• Corey Cunningham (Halloween ends)

• Kitten Braden (Breakfast on Pluto)

• Johnathan Crane (Batman begins)

• Neil Lewis (Watching the detectives)

»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►

[merakiaes]

HEMLOCK GROVE REQUESTS OPEN

Roman Godfrey

Peter Rumancek

Send requests!

[tawneybel]

Imagine being Roman’s ex who’s still on good terms with him. When you start dating Peter, he asks if he can watch you two have sex. Peter doesn’t have any issues with it. Do you?

[alphabetbill]

Macabre [ HEMLOCK GROVE ] - Chapter 6

~ description ~

A werewolf whose only skill is running from his fears, a half-upir with no idea of the true darkness lying inside of him, and a girl found alive in the woods months after her mysterious death.

Some secrets in Hemlock Grove should have just stayed buried. In a town that isn't so sleepy after all, monsters of all kinds are wide awake under the surface, crawling their way up.

~ warnings~

This story will contain mature and heavy themes that may involve potentially explicit content, gore and murder, talk of kidnapping and stalking victims, animal death, supernatural/paranormal/religious themes and trauma, any other themes not covered in the general description will probably be tagged here at the start of the chapters that other significant warnings apply to.

A list will be linked here upon completion and upload of each chapter:

Cicada and the Snake

Chapter 1 . Chapter 2 . Chapter 3 . Chapter 4 . Chapter 5

. Chapter 6 . Chapter 7 . Chapter 8 . Chapter 9 . Chapter 10 . Chapter 11 .

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

c h a p t e r s i x .

Jude Evergreen

<<>>

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DIDN'T EVEN GO TO MY FUNERAL YOU JERK," she drove a playful fist into Roman's arm. She wasn't mad in actual fact, she wouldn't have gone to Roman's either. She wouldn't have been able to stomach it.

"Hey– I had more important things to do," the boy answered as he flicked the ashes of his cigarette away with practised ease, "like drinking away my sorrows."

"You really did miss me," Jude ruffled his hair, and in response, he grabbed her hand and threw it away with a grumble under his breath that wasn't quite intelligible.

Of course he missed her– she'd have to be blind not to see the troubled look in his eyes, the way he wouldn't look at her for too long, the way he would swallow sharply whenever she smiled at him. She couldn't imagine what it must have been like for him and in that moment she hated herself for what she must have put him through. She knew that she would not have any luck in getting him to talk about it. Roman wasn't the type to open a wound unless it was to salt it.

"I did, I went" Peter raised his hand as though he were a student hanging out for that fat gold star. He was sprawled out on a hammock strung between two trees, shirtless, beer dangling from one hand. If anyone looked relaxed, it was Peter Rumancek, drinking and grinning in the warm, sticky early-morning air like none of this was even a little fucked up.

"I assume that's why you're in town?" she assumed.

"Well you're not that special. Vince kicked it too, Lynda and I moved in not long after you skipped."

"Yikes. Nothing says best family ever like making yourself at home in your dead uncle's house. I'll bet this is his beer too?" she asked as she took a swig of her drink.

"Probably," Peter replied with a shrug, clearly unbothered.

It was all in good fun, and it was easy to imagine that nothing at all had changed. It was all so weirdly normal, the three of them sitting there, passing beers back and forth like nothing had changed. For a moment, she could almost believe that it hadn't. Roman still sat perched like a king on his throne [otherwise known as the broken lawn chair], Peter sprawled out like the carefree guy he was. And Jude, somehow, in the middle of it all, laughing at Roman's sarcastic jabs and Peter's wild stories.

It was easy to forget about the darkness inhabiting the edges of the clearing. The way the trees seemed to lean in closer, as if listening. Easy to forget about the thing in the woods.

Since returning from the reserve trail, they decided it would be best for Jude to hide out at the Rumancek residence until they figured out just what the fuck was going on, because Peter had figured his mother would be the only woman with sense enough not to tell anyone. In the event that anyone else would be able to see her, she did not fancy waltzing in through the front door of her trailer park home and scaring the shit out of her poor old man.

The clock above the trailer door had ticked past four a.m, but none of them felt even close to tired. There was too much to think about, too much to process. They all suffered from the conclusion that Jude was not alive.

She could eat, drink, taste, feel but was not warm to the touch. She felt cold even while wrapped up in three blankets, and the ache in her bones seemed primordial like it had been there all along. Her skin was a pale ash-grey colour, her freckles faded and her red hair dull, the closing wounds beneath her skin a distant memory that never seemed to have happened.

The flickering yellow light above the trailer door snared her attention, and for a second, staring into the light took her someplace else.

She was naked when she woke. 

Battered, dried blood caked onto her skin and ants poured over her body. She shook them off, shook the singular shackle around her ankle. The rusty metal clinked, loud– too loud in a forest filled with silence. The chain was rusted. Stiff. Heavy.

It was dark and she was lost.

The grass beneath her was dead and scratchy. The trees were wrong. Twisted, gnarled things that reached toward her with clawed branches. The wind around her played a haunting tone, and a nearby voice whistled a tune to a song she didn't like. Jude sat up and saw nothing but the night. Then she stood up. Then she walked.

"Earth to Judith–" Roman leaned over to snap his fingers in front of her face.

"What?"

"What do we do now?" he asked, looking her up and down as to take in her ghastly appearance. "What do you want to do now?"

"Mmm. Get shit-faced?"

"That's not what I mean, dumbass" he rolled his eyes.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I guess.......I guess we try to find some answers".

"Answers. Right. Sounds easy enough," Peter shrugged. "We get a lot of those around here."

For the next few days, like a dog begging for scraps, they waited for their answers. The first day- drink and sleep and dreams. The second day discussion about said dreams. Peter asked his psychic bitch-witch cousin Destiny who decided she didn't want anything to do with it. The third day consisted of weed and waiting. The fourth day; Jude was tired of this shit.

So Roman drove her to her house.

The trailer park was quieter than it had any right to be. The early morning sun filtered weakly through a hazy sky that hadn't woken up yet. She followed Roman along the cracked asphalt path. Grass wilted where she walked, shrivelling and scrambling back into weeds. 

She did not have a heartbeat. She could not hear it drumming in her ears, could not feel the flutter in her chest that always used to make her feel sick. Breathing was a chore she no longer cared for. 

She was still swamped in the oversized hoodie and sweatpants Peter had dug up for her, both of which hung off her thin frame. A stale smell was starting to cling to her, not of rot but more of dust, of something old and wrong, something that did not belong in this life. She wanted her old clothes, anything to bring her humanity back.

They looked through the windows of the beat-up trailer. They went to the back door. It creaked loudly as Roman eased it open. He slipped inside, motioning for her to follow.

It smelled the same as she remembered—beer, stale cigarette smoke.

They crept down the narrow hallway to her bedroom, Jude's bare feet making no sound on the worn particle board. The door was already ajar, and she hesitated before stepping inside.

The room was exactly as she'd left it. Clothes strewn across the floor, and posters of bands she didn't listen to anymore covered the walls. Her bed was unmade, the comforter bunched up at the foot like she'd only just climbed out of it.

An unexpected feeling began to crush her ribs. It felt like it would break her, the nostalgia and the sorrow of just how abruptly she had left this place. It was vacant and liminal, disturbing to come back to. A stark reminder that she had been here one moment and gone the next without a trace, how entering this space was like she had never left, yet it also felt like it had been years. It did not feel real but the cold was real and the grey skin was real and the bruises were real and the blood was real. It was real and suddenly she knew coming back here was an awful idea.

Roman nudged her shoulder, breaking the spell. "You want me to grab stuff, or—"

"I got it," she whispered briskly, moving to the dresser. Her fingers brushed the handle, but before she could open it, she heard the front door slam.

Roman grabbed her arm and pulled her inside the closet.

The smell of mothballs and old leather filled her nose as she pressed herself into the corner of the closet. Through the slats of the closet door, she saw her father stumble into the room, almost as if Jude's arrival at the home had summoned him from his usual stationary stupor on the couch.

Lance looked worse than she remembered. His dark hair was unkempt, face stubbly, his clothes rumpled and stained. He reeked of drink and vomit and sadness. He clutched a bottle of whisky like a lifeline in one hand, the other clutched a framed photo that he snatched off the desk. He swayed on his feet, muttering under his breath, his words slurred and broken.

She recognized the photo at once. It was one of her favourites—a picture of her and Lance at the lake, her arm slung around his shoulders, both of them grinning like idiots. She hadn't thought about that day in years. She hadn't thought about the fact that she would probably never get to have that again, and it made her feel sick.

Lance stared at the photo for a long moment before letting out a strangled sob. His grip tightened, and then he hurled it across the room as hard as he could. It collided with the wall and shattered, glass raining across the floor as he picked up another and threw it, another and threw it, another and threw it.

Jude flinched, her heart breaking as she watched him sink to his knees. He picked up another photo from her desk—a school picture this time, of when she had been a little girl with ginger braids and a toothy smile.

"Fuck you," he snarled. "Fuck you. You did this to me. You did this. You...you left and you did this! Now fucking look at me!" he screamed at the frame as the glass splintered in his grip, his large hands bleeding. "Couldn't....couldn't keep a wife.......couldn't keep my own kid alive....fuck! I'm sorry," he panted, curling in on himself. "I'm sorry."

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry too.

Jude pressed a hand to her mouth to keep from screaming. She wanted her dad like a desperate child, more than anything she needed him. She wanted to go to him, to collapse to the floor, to tell him she was right there, to hug him, but she couldn't. She wasn't his daughter anymore—not really. She was something else.

Her tears came faster now, her chest heaving. Roman's hand found hers in the dark, his grip steady and grounding. She clung to it, her nails curling into his skin as she fought to keep herself together.

The world was collapsing. 

The false sense of security she'd built with Roman and Peter shattered. She couldn't drink and laugh and smoke her way out of this one. She couldn't sit around and wait for answers. She wasn't alive. She was dead. She wasn't supposed to be here. This wasn't right. This wasn't fair.

Lance staggered to his feet, his movements slow and heavy. He didn't bother picking up the broken glass or the fallen photos. He just shuffled out of the room, leaving the door open behind him, and then he tripped and fell and passed out in the hallway.

Neither of them talked as Roman tugged Jude's arm and guided her out the bedroom window. 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

we are so back.

also if anyone's interested i'm looking to make a few different covers for this book to switch it up a bit every few chapters. if anyone would be interested in making some mood boards or covers let me know!

[hecohansen31]

22,23, & 24 with Peter Rumancek please?❤❤

(A/N): So... I am sorry... for how long this took... and I hope that the fact that this is more thought might make it seem better than anything else I might have written...

Also I love Peter, so... if you want to send anything else... please do... I love my dumb wolf...

I hope you’ll enjoy this sweetie!

WARNINGS: Mention of Public Sex, Jealousy, Werewolves Being Idiots.

22) “Mine.

23) “We cant do that here!”.

24) “Behave.”.

“Behave” you mumbled, meanwhile Peter tried to lower your shirt, so that he could bite your shoulder to push a mark on it “We can’t do that here”.

Because you obviously couldn’t fuck in some stranger’s house, meanwhile the rest of Peter’s family was celebrating someone’s birth…

… and you were just fucking like rabbits in the first darkened hallways you had found.

Everyone was in the garden enjoying the sunlight and warmth, and you were dealing with your werewolf boyfriend, trying to calm him down after one of the guys at the party had tried to chat you up, and even worse… he had ducked in to kiss you.

Hadn’t Destiny been ready enough to push the idiot away at the last minute, he would have been probably dead by Peter’s hands and she had told you to drag him away, from there, before he exploded.

Peter usually wasn’t the jealous type, although he would get mopey if you spent some time with Roman, which you did usually just to avoid that the upir did something stupid (like sticking his dick in other blonde girls), but he never showed true aggressive jealousy like in this case.

“…mine” he simply huffed, before he hurriedly brought his hands to sweep your legs out of you, pushing them onto his waist and you had to immediately link your arms behind his head to balance your body, against his.

When you were more stable, you immediately sent an annoyed look at his way, pulling onto his hair, to get him to finally face you, meanwhile he just growled at you, as if your gesture wasn’t nothing more than teasing at him.

And he enhanced the thought of it pushing his hands to knead your breasts, already heavy for your arousal… and something more.

Something which you had been hiding from Peter due to his past experiences.

“… why are you like this?” you mumbled, right onto his lips, as you finally managed your ‘wolf’ to focus on you “… you usually can control yourself better”.

“That’s because it isn’t only about you that I am worried” and quickly his hand moved from your breasts onto your stomach, enhancing the concept he had spoken about, meanwhile your eyes opened, at his revelation that he knew about it all “… you are pregnant, (Y/N), aren’t you?”.

You hadn’t felt well a week prior to the event and Destiny had suggested that you did a test, although you were sure that it wouldn’t be necessary.

‘I am on birth control’ you had mumbled, meanwhile Destiny handed you the positive stick ‘… how the fuck…?!’.

‘You screwed a werewolf, not a human, honey’ mumbled Destiny, meanwhile she pushed herself to reach down her ass to the floor, so that you could be at the same level ‘…this is the least weird thing that might happen to you, sweetie’.

You hadn’t been able to tell it to Peter, not wanting to awaken some bad memories about Letha, so you had just thought that you would let him know as soon as you felt ready, even offering of taking care of the baby on your own, hadn’t he wanted it.

You couldn’t even think about that possibility without tearing up.

“This morning, when we woke up, all tangled…” you definitely remembered the tenderness of waking up softly next to him “… you smelt different, I thought it was just a different perfume or something… and then it hit me: you are with child, (Y/N)”.

The room had gone so silent that you were sure that a little pin falling would be heard.

The party outside stilling, meanwhile you waited for Peter to decide.

Your breath stuck in your lungs, meanwhile you trembled lightly, worried this might be the last moment between you two.

“… you are with my child” this time his voice was joyful, before he twirled you around, and you just gripped tighter onto his shoulder, meanwhile you smirked happily as he giggled softly, happiness shining from each pore of his body “I love you… so fucking… so fucking… much, (Y/N)”.

“I am sorry for having waited so long… I just didn’t expect you… I didn’t want you to feel bad… for” ‘Letha’, whose baby wasn’t his, but he had loved it as such-

And who died with that baby…

… because of that baby.

Fear appeared on his face, before his joy overtook it and he grabbed you tighter, although he was mindful of your stomach, gently nosing your shoulder, immerging himself completely in that newfound smell.

“I am grateful at you for being so considerate, but this time I won’t let anything happen to our little family” he swore, before from gently nosing your shoulder and he went back to nipping it, before he delved a soft bite onto it, one that made you moan in pleasure “… I won’t let anything hurt you, my sweet wolf of mine”.

Want To Send Me Smut Prompts: WELL YOU CAN!

[aliasimagines]

Peter's eyes scanned through your ripped flannel, messy hair and makeup before speaking up.

"You look absolutely ridiculous, you know that, right?" his voice sounded like he was a bit angry but you knew that he could start laughing any minute.

"Oh shut up. You love it"

"No I don't" he said laughing before pulling you closer to kiss your forehead.

[dazzadazzledazz]