Peter Rumancek - Tumblr Posts

long legs (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: mentions of sex, foul language, roman is an ass as always

summary: you should've known better before you started dating the CEO of Godfrey Industries-- obviously.

word count: 3,335 PART 2: here!

Have you ever felt like you're stuck in an eternal revolving door, and then suddenly you're standing still? That was my life right now; I was standing still with Roman. We had only gone out on a few dates, sure— but I couldn't help but feel that something was different this time. This was a guy I felt like I could finally settle with. Four hour long conversations could feel like fifteen minutes, and the fact that he was the CEO of his own company also added on as a bonus; my life with him would be a life of comfort. Amazing sex and comfort.

I let out a satisfied sigh as my friends and I finally got up from our dinner table; dinner was good, life was good, my relationship was good. What was there not to like? We continued exchanging jokes at the expense of some girl we suddenly remembered from high school, reminiscing, and I had to take a step back; I couldn't believe how amazing my life was at the moment.

As I felt one of my friends nudge me, I blushed, letting out a nervous laugh as I realized I had disconnected from the previous conversation. "Sorry, girls, I've just been so swept up with Roman—"

"Yeah, we know," One of my girlfriends grabbed my shoulders, spinning me around so that I was facing the other end of the restaurant. "But isn't that him?"

They were right; at the other end of the restaurant, sat Roman. With a woman with legs for days. Laughing. I froze, not knowing what to say or do— he hadn't noticed me yet and was probably not going to, by the rate he was checking out the woman in front of him. 

"Come on, let's go," said another friend, taking my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "He's not worth it, really."

I hated the pity in her voice. I hated everything about this. But me being me, I knew I had to either let it slide or retaliate— and obviously, I'd choose the latter.

I got out of my friend's grip, making my way over to his table with confident strides, shaking off the shock in my system. I watched as Roman's green, charming eyes suddenly found me, rounding out. It was clear that he was trying to save face as he suddenly broke out into a slight chuckle, looking rather intrigued as I approached.

I smiled politely, now standing in front of him. "Roman, what a surprise!" I did my best to sound as casual possible and not like my heart was being kicked and spat at. 

"Surprise indeed!" he said, smiling right back up at me with no shame. "This is Cynthia, by the way." 

Had we not been in public, I would've hit his head with my purse. Instead, being the calm and collected woman I masked myself to be for now, I turned to Cynthia, shaking her hand as we got introduced. I wanted nothing more than to run away and wash my hands. 

With a cool demeanour, I turned to Roman; "Could we talk?"

He cleared his throat, clearly not too happy about the interruption. "Sure," he mumbled, sending Cynthia a charming smile as he got up, following me a few steps away from the table.

"What's this?" I said, letting my smile fall just a smidge. "A date?"

Roman cocked his head to the side, scanning me. "Sure is,"

"... You said you had a business thing,"

"A dinner thing,"

"Oh, is that right?" I took a proper look at him; suited up, hair styled back, smelling like his usual date-cologne. Had this been any other instance, I would've jumped him already. However, there was nothing I wanted more than to smack him and run away crying. "So how many women are you dating, exactly?"

Roman shrugged; "In the tristate area?"

My jaw fell, shocked. I knew we weren't exclusive and I tried to remind myself of that, but I had my pride to protect. If I would date anyone else right now, it would feel like stuffing an already packed luggage— I didn't want to, nor could I. So how could he?

Roman sighed, glancing back at his date before turning back to me, putting a patronizing hand on my shoulder; "Look, I'm a little busy, but I'll give you a call. Alright?"

Angered, I smacked his hand off of me. I refused to be treated this way. "Call all you want, but don't expect an answer. Good night, Roman," I took a sharp turn on my heel, my eye twitching as I held back the urge to burst into tears. 

As I reached my friends again, I was immediately embraced as we left the restaurant together. 

"He looked shellshocked, my God!" one of them said. "What did you tell him?"

I sniffled; "Not to call me anymore. I'm not going to deal with this bullshit,"

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My phone had rung about seventeen times and I was itching to answer. I laid in my bed that same night, a small tear rolling down my cheek; why did I always do this to myself? Why did I get so swept up in every man I met? I tried to make myself feel better by concluding I wasn't like this with every man— Roman was an exception. Roman was different.

But Roman was also an ass.

I groaned, watching another call come in. I had enough of this. Deciding to take action, I finally answered his eighteenth call; "Roman, I am only answering to tell you to stop calling!—"

"Just hear me out!" he said. "Just... Just hear me out, okay? Could you do that for me?" 

Groaning, I buried my face in my pillow, going quiet as I put my phone on speaker next to me. 

My silence told him everything he needed. "Look, I didn't know you thought we were exclusive. I should've gotten that cleared up, perhaps—"

"I thought that was obvious," I grumbled into my pillow.

A sigh; "Maybe it was. And maybe I'm just about the biggest jerk in Pennsylvania. Anyway, I'm calling to say sorry. I really thought you were dating other people as well,"

I lifted my head up from the pillow. "And that wouldn't bother you?" I pondered out loud. "If I went out with someone else?"

This is where Roman went quiet. "Well, it's not the most pleasant thought... I suppose I've dulled it down by seeing other people,"

Somehow, I didn't buy it. "Did you sleep with them?"

"Who?"

"All the women with stupidly long legs in the tristate area,"

I heard a loud sigh on the other end; "I thought you were sleeping with others too,"

"Yeah, right," I sat up in my bed, taking the phone off speaker mode and pressing it up against my ear. "This is not how I roll, Roman, and you know this. If you need loose girls to sleep with, have your pick at anyone else, I don't care. I was dead serious about you, about us, and you just... Yeah, screw you. Have a nice life."

I heard him protest as I finally ended the call, burying my face back into my pillow, muffling a scream. 

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The next night, I had decided to go out and bury my mind in whatever cheap alcohol I could find. I stepped away from my friends at the party, making my way back to the bar for the third time tonight, not dull enough for my liking yet. 

Sighing, I sat down at the bar, ordering the usual. I hoped that the next drink would drown out all thoughts of Roman Godfrey, his green eyes, the image of him between my legs, and the image of Cynthia and her legs. I should've listened to my friends when they said he only dated models— why had he even looked at me in the first place, bothered me by entering my life and just existed in my vicinity? 

Asshole.

As I finally got my drink, bringing it up to my lips, the man next to me spoke up; "I don't think you should have another one of those,"

Turning to face him, I wondered where I had seen him before. "... Peter?"

I remembered Peter from the time we interned at the law firm together. He quit a while ago, but not before he had managed to kiss the life out of me in the elevator that one evening. A bright smile spread across my face as I put my drink down, embracing him. "Oh, Peter, it's so nice to see you!"

Peter, dressed in black as usual, beamed right back at me, his hand resting on my back. "I've been wondering if it was you all night," he said, pulling away from the hug with a chuckle. "You look good."

I did a little twirl, giggling— maybe the alcohol was finally getting to me, after all. "You think?"

Amused, Peter nodded; "As always,"

I sat down on my chair with a satisfied sigh. "I can't believe you're back in Pennsylvania," I said, taking a sip of my drink. "What brings you back?"

"Nothing special, really," Peter gave me a look, but didn't say anything about the fact that I was continuing to drink. "Just nice to take a trip back home. To see a familiar face in the crowd. You'll get it once you get out of here, yourself." 

I shook my head; "I'm not moving,"

"Why not?"

"I don't know," I used to have a good reason before I caught Roman with Ms. Long Legs. "I'm doing good at the firm. And guys here are prettier than in any other state I've been in."

Peter chuckled, rolling his eyes; "I see you're still single,"

His words made my heart sink. "It seems I am," I took a rather big sip of my drink, hating that I was right back to square one again. "I thought I'd be in a different place by now, I suppose. I don't get what I'm doing wrong."

Peter moved closer, giving me a sigh of empathy. "You always go for the bad guys," he mumbled. "The unavailable ones. Am I right, or was this only when you were an intern?"

Embarrassed, I nodded; "I guess," 

Peter watched as I took another sip of my drink, finally getting enough of it; he put his hand over mine, gently forcing the drink back down on the table, his hand lingering on top of mine. "I'm a nice guy,"

My eyes widened, finally meeting his gaze. Was this going the way I thought this was going? I watched his pupils expand, the brown in his eyes shimmering with hope. "Give me a chance," Peter said. "Us. The chance we should've had all those years ago."

I held my breath-- I wanted to give in, relent.

"Come to my place tonight," he continued, his thumb stroking over my knuckles. "Let me treat you right, for once."

I was so close to giving in, saying yes and settling for something good for my soul. However, my heart was screaming— I couldn't do this while I was still crazy about Roman fucking Godfrey, the biggest asshole on the planet. The asshole who got me flowers before every date, brought me coffee to my work when he was free, gave me the best orgasm I had ever had in my life in the back of a cab, and bought me a fucking Birkin when he went to Venice. 

"I—" I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe. This was Peter; I didn't want to hurt the sweetest guy I had ever known. Before I could give him an answer, I needed an answer for myself; "Hold that thought, Peter, I'll be right back."

I got up, making my way to the outskirts of the party with hurried steps. Finally drunk enough for this stunt, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, dialling the guy I had sworn to myself I would never call again; "Roman?"

I didn't have to see him to know he was smirking. "Hey you,"

Beaming at the sound of his voice, I felt the hurt in my soul being mended by the second. I had craved this all day, every minute, every second. However, I knew I had to pull myself together. "I'm just calling to let you know I'm going home with someone else tonight,"

"... Are you drunk?"

I huffed, offended despite the correct guess. "Am not!" 

"So this loud music is just something you play in your room at three in the morning?"

I had to do everything in my power to not hit myself. "I'm calling to say that you screwed up,"

A sigh; "Where are you?"

Grimacing, I wondered why he wanted that information. There was no way in hell I'd give it to him, anyways. "His name is Peter. He's super sweet, we used to work together, and he doesn't need me to have long, model legs,"

"... I like your legs,"

I rolled my eyes; of course he'd say that. 

"Quite frankly, I miss your legs... dearly,"

Doing my best to not become a puddle of mush on the floor, I had to shake my head to come to my senses. "Well, good luck missing them, because they'll never be anywhere near you again!"

Roman got silent at the end of the phone, clearly moving around wherever he was at the moment. "I'm coming. Where are you?"

I glanced back at the party, scanning my surrounding. To be frank, I wasn't so sure. "Somewhere near Clifford Park," My eyes widened-- had I just blurted that out?

"Clifford Park," he echoed. I heard the jangling of keys and the shuffling of what I could only deduct were jackets. "Meet me at the front gate."

"No, I'm leaving with Peter," I said, sticking to my plan despite how hard my heart was beating at the thought of Roman racing to meet me.

"Yeah, sure you are," I heard a door close on the other end. "Fifteen minutes. Be there."

Realizing he had ended the call, I did a small jump of glee before pulling myself together. It suddenly dawned on me what I had roped myself into.

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It hit me that I was in Clifford Park at half past four in the morning. Having waited nearly half an hour, leaving the party behind, I started feeling more and more like a fool. Why had I agreed to this? Peter was definitely right; I always went for the wrong guys.

I was about to leave and get a cab until I saw a familiar silhouette in a long, dark coat nearing me. 

"This is not the front gate," Roman said, walking towards me like he didn't have a care in the world, hands tucked into his pockets. His voice had a hint of frustration, which only made me further upset.

"It is!" I said, wrapping myself further up in my jacket. "This is the front gate!"

"No, this is the back,"

"It isn't!" I let out a big huff, my eyes narrowing as he finally caught up to me, his face illuminated by the lamp we were standing under. The hues of orange and black complimented him, the green in his eyes practically sparkling. 

Despite being breathless by the sight of him, my angered pride simmered in my chest; "I have been waiting for you for half an hour,"

Roman let out a groan, clearly frustrated as well; "I came about fifteen minutes ago, spent ten minutes waiting for you at the front gate, and then finally came all the way around here after having an unexpected jog in hopes of not finding you killed on the curb,"

Taken aback, I shut down the upcoming trail of curses. He had... worried about me? "Why are you here?" I finally asked. "Why did you come?"

Roman ran his fingers through his hair as he sighed. I was pleasantly surprised to see him like this— hair not styled, dressed in casual wear, lips parted as he tried to find the right words. "There's been a big misunderstanding,"

"Clearly,"

Roman nodded to himself, his gaze falling down to his feet. "I thought this was casual,"

This was not what I wanted to hear. Still a little drunk, I started to turn around, ready to walk away from him. I didn't have the energy to waste any more time on him than I already had. 

However, Roman simply followed; "And where do you think you're going in those heels?"

"Anywhere," I mumbled. "I don't want to hear this again."

"You're not even going to hear me out?" he said, a hint of a whine in his voice. "After I came to see you at half past four in the morning in a random park? How often do you think I do this, huh?"

I stopped, feeling my feet ache from the heels. He had a point. I turned around with a hardened gaze, meeting his, my heart beating hard in my chest. 

Roman took my silence as a means for him to speak; "Look, I'll come clean. I've been going out with others, sleeping with others, and I've been doing it to dull down the ache I get when I think of you doing the same,"

I blinked twice. "That doesn't make any sense,"

"Yeah... maybe it doesn't," Roman sighed, biting the inside of his cheek. "I'm just used to the girls I'm dating still... dating others, I suppose. I couldn't even bring myself to think you'd be different about it, I just thought that this was how the world worked. Like, imagine I ask for exclusivity and you just... run?"

"I wouldn't run," I took in his every word, not meeting his eyes anymore. I couldn't look at him when he looked so pretty. "I thought I was clear that you were the only one for me.”

There was a twinge of hurt on display in Roman's eyes; "I thought that was just something you told everyone..."

Sighing, I couldn't believe the conversation we were having. How was it possible for such a successful man to be so unsuccessful in his deductions? "And the flowers? Is that also something you give everyone?"

"No,"

"Who else did you bring coffee to while they were at work?"

"No one,"

I finally looked back up at him, my pulse rising as a sliver of hope returned to my body. Why should I believe him? God, how I wanted to.

Roman took a step towards me; "You think my position at my company allows me to run coffee errands everywhere?"

I shrugged— I had no idea.

"You think it's easy to get a Birkin, let alone multiple?"

Embarrassed, I looked away again. I didn't need him to know how little I knew about Birkins. 

Roman sighed, running his hand through his soft, brown hair once more. "I've been driving myself crazy about you, y'know? Have you ever had the feeling that you've been... Fuck, I don't know how to properly explain, but like... have you ever felt like you're in an eternal revolving door and then suddenly you're standing still?"

My head turned to him as though I had heard a gunshot. "I have,"

Roman put his hands back in his pockets, chewing his lip. It was clear that he was anxious— I hadn't seen him like this before. Ever. "I'm so tired of running. I'm so tired of others. I just... want to stand still. With you,"

I bit down my growing smile. This was all I had ever wanted to hear. "Even when it's half past four and the standing takes place at Clifford Park?"

Roman let out a slight chuckle; "Especially when it's in Clifford Park,"

"The best place in the world," I said, feeling remnants of happy tears start to poke through my exterior. "Definitely not the third most dangerous park in the state."

"Yeah, fuck," Roman broke out into a smile, his laugh being pure music to my ears. "Let's stand still somewhere else. What do you say about standing still outside the coffee shop until it opens?"

Suddenly, I didn't feel so doomed anymore. I didn't need to start from square one again-- this was it. We both knew it now. "Sounds good,"

Roman hummed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we started our stride. He leaned down to press a kiss against the top of my head; "I missed you. I don't ever want to miss you again,"

link to part two here<3

affair (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), dub-con, Roman using his powers for bad shit, angst, cheating, toxic relationship, justice for Peter omg

summary: when your ex-boyfriend shows up at your door, how are you supposed to push him away?

word count: 5,136

"No, please!-- We need to talk!" 

Roman forced a foot in my door to make sure I wouldn't close it on him. He was wet from the rain, his usually styled hair sticking to his forehead as he panted, desperately pleading for me to hear him out. "I made a huge mistake," he breathed, regret glossing over his green eyes. "Could you please just hear me out?"

This was definitely not the most ideal situation to be in-- my boyfriend, Peter, had just left my apartment to go home and get ready for his early shift, so I had gotten ready for bed. And I certainly wouldn't be dressed in my pyjamas and slippers had I known that my ex would show up at my door looking beyond frantic. My mind raced with uncertainty, filled with endless questions and doubt; what was he doing here? Was he drunk? Why was he doing this now, after two months of being broken up? "You-- You need to go," I didn't have the time or energy to deal with the mess Roman always dragged back into my life, especially now that I was finally happy with someone else.

Worst of all, I knew for a fact that Roman had someone else too. I knew he was seeing some woman with long, blonde hair whom I refused to stalk for my own good, so why on earth was he here? The question lingered in my mind, but I had to remind myself about the one thing I had the answer to at the moment; I needed to close the door on him now. 

Upon hearing my words of rejection and feeling the door press up on his foot in an attempt to force him out, Roman wedged his arm between the door. "Let me explain," he pleaded, chest heaving. "I just ran seventeen blocks in the fucking rain to see you, could you at least spare me a minute?"

As if that was enough of a justification to show up out of the blue? "No one asked you to do that. I certainly did not," To say that I was pissed off was an understatement, but Roman's pleading eyes were making me sick with guilt. He looked like a lost puppy of sorts, and it was certainly not helping my restraint. The hand I had on my doorknob felt like it was starting to lose blood because of how hard I was holding on-- I couldn't let him in. I shouldn't let him in. 

"I know," Roman eventually said, moving his wet hair out of his eyes. "I know you don't want to see me, but I just... I needed to see you."

"... I think you should go back to your girlfriend," I started to push at his shoe with my slipper, preparing to slam the door in his face. "You shouldn't be here."

It didn't take long for Roman to figure out what I was doing, and it became apparent that he wasn't going to go down without a fight. It didn't take much strength for him to grab the door, forcing it wide open, staring down at me with a damning look of desperation I hadn't seen in any man before. "Just a minute," he breathed. "Please let me say my piece. If I don't, I swear I'll die."

I didn't enjoy this one bit-- coming to my doorstep, threatening to die if I didn't comply? I had forgotten how manipulative he could be. Being with Peter had shown me that Roman's behavior in our relationship had been beyond toxic, and I could see it clearer than ever as he stood before me now. "You're not going to fucking die," I grumbled, feeling myself grow annoyed with how he was throwing himself back into my life, completely uninvited. "Roman, it's almost midnight, maybe this manic behaviour of yours will go away with a good night of sleep?"

Frustrated, Roman tapped his fingers against the door. "Now you're just making it hard, as always,"

"And you're being crazy, as always," I mumbled, shifting my weight from foot to foot, a sense of restlessness taking over my stance. "Could you please leave? We did this back-and-forth thing months ago, I'm not interested in doing it all over again."

In true Roman fashion, standing face to face with rejection, he didn't know what to say or do. I could recognize his patterns now that we weren't together, and it was so damn typical of him to attempt to distract me from what was making me mad; "I remember those," he said, nodding toward my slippers. "Good to see you've kept them."

I knew he was distracting me, so why did it work? Sighing, I shrugged; "They were expensive... Wasn't going to throw them away just because you picked them out,"

Letting go of the door, knowing he had tranquilized the danger of getting it slammed in his face, Roman leaned against the frame in a James Dean-esque fashion. He let out a dragged-out breath, eyes rounding out; "I've missed you,"

His words snapped me out of my daze, and I immediately pulled away from the door with a groan. "Ugh, Roman, you need to go!" I turned my back to him, walking further into my apartment, my instincts telling me to get as far away as possible. "I'm finally happy with Peter, and you have no right to show up at my door just because you're bored!--" My trail of words came to a halt as I suddenly heard my door close; I knew I was fucked in an instant. My heart trembled at the recognition of the sound of the lock turning, realizing I was in for a long night. Fuck. I turned around, holding my breath, watching as he took wary steps towards me. 

"One minute," Roman said, voice low and unsteady. "That's all I ask." 

"No!" I took a few steps back, not daring to get too close. "You can't be here! This is completely inappropriate, Roman, I have a boyfriend! And I know you have a girlfriend too, along with a huge fucking drinking problem!" 

Roman sighed, a silent declaration of his frustration. "I'm not drunk," he said, gaze falling to the floor. "I just... I've come to realize that I can't live like this anymore. I want to be with you."

I clenched my fists tightly in a futile attempt to quell my agitation, but my hands continued to shake. "That's too bad," I said, a sinking feeling taking hold and clinging to me. "I'm not doing this with you again. I'm not getting up in the middle of the night to look for you, wondering whether you're either dead or drunk in some alley. Not when I have Peter."

Exhaustion drugged Roman's movements, every movement slow, every breath. It was clear that the mention of Peter was an unpleasant reminder that we were over; his shoulders slumped, the weight of guilt settling upon them. "I haven't had a drink since the day you left me," he said, his sincere eyes finding mine. "I want to be good for you... I want you. Every second of every day." 

At this point, I had taken so many steps back that I had hit the wall. It was getting a little harder to breathe, and I ended up hyperventilating-- I couldn't do this. I could still feel Peter on my shirt. Everything about this was wrong. "You need to stop," I breathed, stepping away from the wall and wandering further into my living room as I grew restless. "Please stop. Don't do this to me."

To my dismay, Roman only followed; "I'll leave her," he pleaded. "I'll leave her if you tell me to, I'll do whatever you want! I should've fought for us, I should've done so many things that I didn't do... It keeps me up at night that I let you go. I can't sleep, I can't function, I need you to know how this pains me!"

"No, I don't need to know that!" My steps came to a halt, and I pivoted on the heel of my slipper to face him. "You put me through hell, and now think you can just show up like this! Don't you think I have enough emotional baggage from you? You think I don't have enough or something, so you come here to unload some more? What the fuck am I to you, a loading dock?!"

Roman let out a harsh sigh; "Is that a serious question?" he asked, brows weaving together in frustration. "You are everything. I see that now!"

I was already exhausted from the day I had just had, and I barely had any energy left to fight with Roman. This was what we did-- we fought, we fucked, then we made up. However, this time was completely different, and it was throwing me off my course; we couldn't fuck and make up this time. But it was clear that he hadn't shown up to fight, so what on earth was this?

"Well, it's too damn late!" I groaned loudly, hiding my face in the palm of my hands. This was way too overwhelming. When the love of your life shows up at your door telling you everything you've ever wanted to hear, you want to rejoice-- not cry? My eyes burned with the tears that begged to be set free, distorting my vision as I lifted my face from my hands, unveiling that I was swimming in tears. "Do you not see what you do to me?" I breathed, sniffling. "Did you come here to drive me to tears? Do you have no remorse, Roman?"

Roman's lips parted, the worried look on his face revealing everything, his concern written all over. In the quiet moments that followed, the only sound was the echoing resonance of regret filling the space between us with its haunting presence. Our unsaid words were scattered in the air, and it felt like I was suffocating from every apology he could muster up. 

"Let me be happy," I begged, swallowing hard. "Leave now and let me forget. I'm happy with Peter... Please."

It was clear that Roman was debating whether or not to comply. His conscience was gnawing at him-- I knew him well enough to be able to spot the signs. I hated how familiar he was, how it felt like we hadn't been apart at all, like it was yesterday that he had made me feel things I never knew I could feel. The feeling of pure bliss had been like a drug that Roman constantly pumped into me, making me a complete and utter junkie. It had resulted in me falling for him despite how beyond bad he was for me. 

I remembered it all too well. The binge drinking that would go on for days, which often had him disappearing off of the face of the earth. His wandering green eyes used to leave me with such crippling anxiety, I would spend hours crying with a lingering feeling of nausea in my throat. He used to make me so, so sick in every possible way, and my body remembered it better than I did. 

However, I could also sense that something had changed. Here he was; standing in my living room, drenched in rain, clinging onto his last slivers of hope, and I knew I was in for a good run of Roman-mania. 

Of course he would come back to claim what he thought was his. Of course he'd be arrogant enough to believe it would be okay, that I would take him back, and that it would be completely alright for him to come towards me with rushed steps, kissing me with desperation that I had never felt from him before.

Our bodies were pressed together heatedly, Roman's hands on my waist keeping me in place. I could taste our shared nervous breaths, feel the thud of my heart against his, and it was all too much-- I pushed him off of me, tears pooling in my eyes as they streaked down my cheeks. "No!" I cried, my words getting choked. I couldn't believe what he had just done; my heart was actively breaking at the thought of Peter, the loveliest boyfriend I had ever had. I couldn't do this to him. "Roman, you can't just!--"

I hated the warmth that spread in my chest as Roman pulled me back in, sparks igniting in the pool of my stomach as his impossibly perfect lips moved against mine once more. I balled my fist, landing a firm hit against his chest, fighting the ecstasy that always followed any kiss from Roman. But his grip around me was impossibly tight, not letting me budge. You'd think he'd been starved for months with the way he was kissing me with hunger unmatched any other moment I'd ever shared with him, completely taking my breath away. Like this, I could almost believe that I had been on his mind in every waking moment, ravaging through his veins like a burning ache-- I couldn't lie and say that he hadn't been on my mind either.

No one could match Roman; not even my sweet, sweet Peter. I hated it with every fiber of my being. 

The only thing I hated more, was that I never wanted him to stop. 

"No," I cried against his lips, my fingers gripping his wet shirt, bunching it up, unsure whether to pull him closer or push him away once more. Was it maybe that he sensed how much I wanted this too that made him allow himself to continue?

Lightning struck in the distance, illuminating my apartment with a flash as my tears rolled down, mixing in with our kiss. No matter how wrong I knew this was, it felt like my soul was slowly leaving my body and giving itself to him once more; I knew I was dealing with a force outside of anything I could ever control. The love I had for Roman was all-consuming, crushing, devastating-- I could barely bring myself to fight him. "Stop," I breathed in between kisses. "Don't, Roman--"

My breath hitched as I realized my back was now pressed against the wall, and Roman pulled away barely an inch; I could feel the soft tickle of his breath beneath my nose, his fingers now moving through my hair as we breathed each other in. "Leave him," he whispered against my lips. "Let's try again."

My heart had become like melted wax in my chest, making it painful to breathe. "We'll crash and burn all over again," I breathed, feeling the salty traces of my tears on my lips. "We'll kill each other, you know this."

"Let me die by your hand, then," Roman connected our foreheads, closing his eyes. Like this, I could almost believe him, I really could-- he had actually missed me, hadn't he? "A death by you would be a death worth dying."

I felt my lower lip quiver in a sob; I wanted him more than anything in the world, and I had an inkling that he knew it better than I did. I couldn't allow myself to feel all the feelings I had bottled up in our time apart, knowing it would break me and lead me right back into his arms. 

But Roman was insistent-- "I love you," He whispered it as though it was a secret he had been keeping for a thousand years. I could barely accept that this was real; the words I had wanted from him our whole relationship were being spilled out like a consolation for my pain. 

I knew there was no reason for me to fight anymore; Roman knew me too well. He knew that this was all I had ever dreamed to hear, and he knew exactly how to use it against me. Unsure whether he was telling the truth or not, the emotions I had let fester deep within came rushing through the floodgates, making it impossible to do anything but feel; the love I had for him, the feelings that had never left me, the burning sensation of need and hope coursing through my veins. 

So, I didn't fight him when he kissed me once more. I didn't fight the arm he snaked around my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I didn't fight the rush I got from finally being reunited with him in this way; I had wanted his back mouth against mine since the second we were over. 

My conscience gnawed at me as Roman pressed himself up against me, but my guilt didn't hinder me from letting my fingers run through his wet hair, giving in to the engulfing infatuation I had with him. As his hungry kisses moved down my jawline and to my neck, I dared to inhale a shaky breath; I was getting dizzy from the rush of feeling him close to me like this, grabbing my waist, running his hands up my body as though he had no self-control at all. 

The inner corners of my brows turned up, giving in to the crushing feeling of relief and sadness, closing my eyes as I held him tightly against me. There was so much I wanted to say, to do, but I couldn't bring myself to push him away-- not when it felt this good. Not when his hands dipped beneath my shirt, grazing at my bare skin, drinking me in as though I was water. It didn't take long for Roman to get my shirt off of me, and I could taste our shared breath along with the thud of our combined heartbeat as it got tossed to the floor.

Roman's fingers pressed themselves into my skin, getting reacquainted after our time apart. I hadn't realized that I was tracing my hands up and down his arms, mindlessly relishing in the familiarity; I had missed him dearly, and I couldn't bring myself to lie about it any longer. My hands went back up into his hair as he kissed down my chest, my breaths getting short and choppy as I allowed myself to bask in the feeling of his lips against my body. 

"We shouldn't," I tried, the memory of my boyfriend lingering in the back of my mind.

Roman hummed against my skin, now kneeling before me. He grasped at my hips as he pressed a wet kiss against my lower abdomen, making my breath hitch. "Push me away, then," he murmured, his wet tongue tracing where he had just kissed me; it was impossible not to shiver. 

He knew he had control. He knew, that bastard knew so well-- I couldn't push him away. I was never able to do it before, so how was I supposed to do it now? I felt my tears dry up, the familiar ache between my legs pooling, threatening to run over. As if by instinct, my hips rose from the walls, begging for him to finally do something. 

Roman's grip on my hips tightened, pushing me back in place. Something about the growing smirk on his face had me questioning everything; what was I doing? Was this just a ploy for him to get laid? A big, dark part of me didn't care at this point. The fingers I had in his hair loosened as he hooked his fingers in my pyjama pants, dragging them down with a satisfied look on his face. Roman wasted no time, humming as he leaned forward to press a keening kiss against my dampening underwear.

My breath hitched, my back arching off the wall in a knee-jerk reaction-- I had missed this more than I should've. There was no passion like this with Peter, although he was sweet and considerate. But Roman was so all-taking, so consuming, I couldn't do anything other than let him do whatever he wanted to do to me. He pulled my underwear to the side, laving his tongue against me as I whimpered, tasting me. Roman's big hands grabbed my leg, forcing it over his shoulder, pushing himself closer to my sex with an aching need. 

"Roman," I tried, my guilt mixing in with the pleasure. "Don't--" All other words suddenly fled my mind as his lips sealed around my clit, sucking at me in a way that had me crying out in shock, my vision nearly turning black.

Just as I thought I would faint from the flood of emotions, Roman came back up after taking his time, breath heavy against my lips. "Still want me to go?"

My eyes glossed over, meeting his. Thunder and lightning struck outside again, lighting up my living room, and allowing me to see the traces of my slick around his mouth. Something about it was just too scandalous-- I couldn't believe any of this was happening. But we'd gone too far to go back now; "No," I breathed, slinging my arms around his neck, pulling him into a heated kiss. 

As I tasted myself on his lips, Roman picked me up, and my legs automatically wrapped around him as they always had. He didn't need to watch where he was going as he knew my apartment almost as well as I did, walking away from the wall and laying me down on the couch with ease. 

It was hard to focus on the true nature of what was going on when it felt so damn good. Everything happened in a blur; I couldn't recall how or when Roman had lost his shirt, when my underwear got pulled off and discarded, or how I had allowed this to happen. Roman's cock pressed into me slowly, still trying to be sincere despite the complexion of our encounter. With every thrust, my chest arched up against his, back curving as I whimpered at the stretch. 

My hands rested on Roman's neck as he kissed me once more, stealing my breath with every roll of his hips. The part of me that was outraged with the both of us withered away as I continued to moan beneath him, coming out in broken cries. I couldn't focus on the infidelity I was committing when he was inside of me like this, his hands wrapped around me, moving me against him. 

"Fuck, I've missed this," Roman breathed against my neck, letting out a laboured sigh of satisfaction. "All of you... All of this..."

Everything about this was dizzying; maybe this was my mind playing tricks on me, maybe this was all some dirty dream? But I could feel myself clinging to him, wet and dripping-- there was no way this wasn't real. "Rome," I cried, the old nickname slipping past my lips. 

I could feel him give in to a shiver, ears perking up. "That's sweet," Roman kissed my cheek, driving his cock further into me as I whimpered, no longer used to his length like before. Even as he whispered my name, needing me, I briefly thought of how less intimidating he was at this moment-- this was the part of Roman that would show up in my dreams, caress my cheeks as I cried, and fall asleep on top of my chest after a long day, clinging to me. I had spent so much time resenting him, that it was weird to see him so... human. Desperate.

I let out a short gasp as I suddenly realized I was almost folded in half, my legs creasing at his arms. One thing hadn't changed; Roman would always take his liberties with me, no matter the circumstances. It somehow bothered me that I was being fucked with the same amount of love as before; did he have no guilt? No thoughts of his girlfriend at home?

Fuck-- Peter!

As I remembered my boyfriend, I felt my anxiety rise. My hand shot up to Roman's chest, lips parted, ready to protest and push him away-- but as I met his eyes, the green of his irises practically engulfed my being, and not a sound would come out of my mouth. "Shh, it's okay," Roman said, voice calm, reading my panic. "It's just me... It's okay."

Something about his voice was so calming, soothing, that a certain sense of relief washed over me-- I could recall several similar instances. This had happened before; it was almost as though a greater power controlled me every time I looked into his eyes for too long. 

The hand I had on his chest went up into his hair, pulling him forward to capture his lips in a kiss. I was caught off guard as Roman pulled out only till the tip of him remained, letting out a soft gasp against him as he pushed back into me to the hilt. I felt him hum against the kiss, sighing in satisfaction. "There you go," he said, words softer than ever. "Just relax, enjoy... Let me take care of you, just like I used to."

Despite how hard my guilt was eating at me, I still felt ridiculously calm, unable to do anything else than comply. I could only moan, shivering with pleasure at the feeling of being driven forward against the couch with every thrust. 

I wrapped my arms around Roman, kissing his broad shoulders, giving in to the pleasure. I had missed this, I had missed him... All my feelings started to ball up, crying out against his shoulder at the realization of what was about to happen. "Rome, I- I can't--"

"Gonna?" His question came out along with a grunt and another snap of his hips, repeatedly pushing himself into me. 

I couldn't hold it-- I really, really couldn't. Something about the nature of our get-together mixed in with my climax, and I let my head fall back down against the couch as I cried out. It was so hard, so intense, that I had forgotten to breathe; I hadn't had an orgasm like that since the day we broke up. 

I knew I was screwed. I knew it.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

As everything started to dawn on me, my breathing got heavier-- what had we done? I pulled myself closer to Roman on the bed, completely spent, seeking comfort from the person who had dragged me into this mess in the first place. 

Eventually, Roman broke the silence; "We should do porn," he mumbled, taking another drag of his cigarette. 

What? I looked up to glare at him; "Fuck you,"

"You just did," Roman smirked, glancing back at me with a rather proud expression on his face. "But I'm serious. We're damn hot."

I groaned; this was not what I needed to hear right now-- not after we had just finished round three. Roman reached out for me with his free hand, pulling me even closer, lazily running his fingers through my hair. I embraced him as I sniffled, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I was so tired, feeling my sore legs ache as I realized that up close, Roman's hair smelled like cigarettes as well. He might've quit drinking, but quitting cigarettes was a no-go in his book.

"We're horrible people," I mumbled, my words muffled up against his skin, taking in his presence. There were many times I had dreamed about us being reunited, but never that it would end up with me cheating on Peter.

Roman shrugged, turning to press a kiss against my temple. "I told you, I'm leaving her. We're fine," 

Nothing about this felt fine. I propped myself up on my elbow, watching him as he laid comfortably in my bed, almost done with his cigarette. Even after convincing me to commit such a heinous act against my boyfriend, he looked like an angel. Fucking Lucifer. "... Don't do it. Don't leave her."

"What?" Confused, Roman's green eyes rounded out. "Why not?"

I sighed, shaking my head. The decision I had made for myself was hard to air out, and I knew that protests would ensue; "I'm not leaving Peter,"

But despite my predictions, Roman got quiet. His wide, empty eyes stared right back at me, lips parted as though he was ready to speak. "... You're kidding me?" he finally said, the hurt in his face mixing in with a smidge of anger. "After this, you're going to stay with him?"

"He's good for me!" I tried, sitting up properly. "Roman, please, just-- I don't know what came over me, but this was a mistake... We're not good for each other, you know this!--"

"You're kidding me?" Roman repeated, clearly in a state of shock. 

This whole ordeal was making me feel like the second worst person in the world, with the first place going to Roman. I buried my face in my hands, realizing that I was trembling. "Please don't make this harder than it already is," I pleaded, inhaling a shaky breath. "You had no right to show up here... I was fine just the way I was, and I'm going to go back to that."

I heard Roman shift, sitting up as well. His long, slender fingers wrapped around my wrists, prying my hands away from my face. His green eyes burned into me, the fire intent on destroying whatever it could catch, and I knew I had to look away before it was too late. "I'm leaving her," he said, intertwining his fingers with mine. "I love you. I'm leaving her."

It took a lot of willpower to shake my head, rejecting his words. "Don't," 

"I will,"

"No, Roman, I don't want you to!--"

My words came to a halt as Roman leaned forward, capturing my lips in a rushed, desperate kiss. I did my best not to cry again, having previously burst into tears in the middle of round two-- I couldn't do this. This wasn't good for me. Peter was good for me.

I felt Roman's hands leave mine, and before I knew it, his fingers twisted into the hair at the nape of my neck, forcing me to look at him. His eyes searched mine, looking to find some shred of doubt to hang onto. "Do you love him?" I barely had time to open my mouth to speak before he cut me off; "You wouldn't have done this if you did."

My tears came back, pressing up on my eyes with a burning fire, begging to be set free. "Please, just... Please just go,"

Roman let out a sigh, leaning forward to press his lips against my forehead. "Call me when you change your mind,"

"I won't,"

"You will," Roman's hand slid out of my hair, caressing my cheek with his thumb, his green eyes finding mine once more. And just as I was about to look away, I felt that familiar calm wash over me as the colour green took over my vision, the numbing of my thoughts ensuing; there was no way I could fight it. I didn't stand a chance. 

Roman's lips quirked into a shameless smirk; "You will,"

a/n: (should I do a pt.2? hihi)

ugh I love them☹️💕

Bill Skarsgård as Roman Godfrey and Landon Liboiron as Peter Rumancek HEMLOCK GROVE (2013-2015)     ↳  1x05 ― Hello, Handsome.

“”Friends”” - Roman Godfrey

Roman x Fem!reader (ish)

Peter x friend Reader

Warnings: some bad words

Word count: 238

Summary: friends that should be more

Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Roman” Y/n groaned but of course Roman didn’t stop

“Roman, stop” she turned and knocked his hand off

“Stop what?” Roman smirked pretending to know what she’s talking about. When Y/n gave him a glare to rival all glares he just laughed and asked: “Now what’s that look for?”

“You know” Y/n scoffed going back to her school work.

“Ok, then what are you going to do about it?” he teased leaning in closer to her

Y/n slammed her pen down on the desk and turned fully towards him. “You know what I’d like to do about it?”

Roman grins “I would love to know-”

“Oh my God, will you two shut the fuck up!” Peter exclaimed at the two which caused them to gain the whole classes attention. 

Roman and Y/n turned to him, but when they saw everyone looking at them: Roman loved it he loves attention, but Y/n doesn’t. Which Roman knows about her, so he glared at everyone in the class till they all went back to their own business. After that, they both looked at Peter again before they looked at eachother and started laughing.

“They should just fuck already.” Peter mumbled under his breath. Everyone knows how they like each other but only Peter knows how much Roman actually cares about her, but he won’t tell her because he’s scared about how things might turn out.

whumptober 2021 - day 2  ↳ choking

Peter Rumancek, Hemlock Grove 1x11

Not Alone - Peter Rumancek (Hemlock Grove) Part 1 of 2

*shrug* I was bored

~~~~~~~~~~

"Y/n! Y/N! Get the fuck back here!"

You ignored your father's shouting and kept running, as far away as you could not knowing where you were going. And until you didn't recognize where you were.

You eventually stopped running, leaning your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath.

After you caught your breath, you looked around and only saw trees. Miles and miles of trees. 

You sighed heavily, frustrated that you didn't pay attention to your surroundings. But you couldn't help it, you just kinda blacked out once you got hyped up on fear that your father instilled in you.

After being called useless one too many times, you finally got the courage to defend yourself, but all that did was get you a smack in the face.

So you ran, and now…you were fucking lost.

You just walked through the dense forest, hoping that you'd reach a clearing eventually. But after walking for what felt like an hour, you started to lose hope.

You hated the woods, and of course out of any direction, you had to run towards the woods. Hearing all the breaking of branches and animal noises really didn't help. The only real light you had was the light from the full moon.

You've always been easily spooked, so it was no surprise to you when you almost screamed when you heard the muffled thumps of what sounded like footsteps.

You turned to look every which way, but it was so dark that all you could see were shadows.

The footsteps kept getting closer and closer, and you felt more and more helpless.

"Hello?" You shouted out, a stupid idea really but you didn't know what else to do.

Suddenly, you heard growling. You quickly turned around only to be thrown to the ground, pinned down by an unknown creature.

You quickly came back to reality to see who or what your attacker was.

You were face to face with a large black wolf. You tried you push it off, but the creature was so heavy. It's breath was heavy on your face, looking down on you, almost seeming angry.

You started to cry. You weren't ready to die, you had so much to experience in the world. You didn't wanna be mauled to death by this dumb animal who didn't know any better, yet here you were.

Another stupid idea you had was to beg for your life, although you knew the animal wouldn't understand. And yet, "please don't. I don't wanna die." You muttered out, already trying to accept death.

The wolf suddenly stopped growling and got off you, almost like it actually understood you. But you were grateful anyway.

You sat up and scooted away, wide eyed at the creature that could kill you. A sudden pain in your upper arm made you hiss. You looked to see claw marks, bleeding. "At least I'm not dead…yet." You chuckled breathlessly.

You looked back at the wolf who was watching you intensely, you noticed he kept looking back at your arm, like he was regretful. "It'll heal." You voiced, then laughed. "Ugh, why I am talking to you like you can understand. I must be going crazy."

The wolf whimpered.

"If I stand up, you're not gonna kill me right?"

The wolf backed away a few steps, bowing his head slightly.

You carefully stood up, still aware that this was a wild animal that you did not want to spook. You looked around once more, unable to get your bearings. "If only wolves could navigate, then I'd be all set." You joked.

The wolf only tilted in head in confusion.

"I ran into the woods, without really paying attention to where I was going. Of course, now I'm lost. Fuck me." You groaned and sighed. "I'm probably gonna die here. Great. Maybe it would've been better if you had killed me, wolf friend."

The wolf suddenly walked towards you, making you step back cautiously. The wolf stopped, it then lowered itself to the ground and slowly crawled to you.

It was like it was trying to gain your trust, it made you feel weird. Why would an animal do this?

The wolf slowly stood up, lifting up his head and started to lick your hand. "Well, I'm not sure if you're apologizing or just tasting before you dine. Either way, it's cute."

The wolf bit onto your long sleeve gently, pulling you in a direction. "God, this is weird. I'm actually letting a dog drag me to who the fuck knows."

Eventually, the wolf let go of your sleeve and kept walking, assuming that you'd follow him. You did. You had no idea where to go anyways, so why not follow a wolf?

After a few minutes of following after the wolf, you legs started to ache. The wolf would occasionally look back to see if you were still following.

It was kind of like a leap of faith, following after an animal that seemed like it had some sort of intelligence. "If I wasn't as smart as I am, I would actually believe you could understand everything that's happened tonight." You chuckled softly.

The wolf suddenly stopped, and you were afraid that your luck had finally run out.

The wolf upturned it's head. You followed it's gaze, it was looking at the moon that was going down. You didn't bring your phone with you, but you figured it was almost sunrise.

The wolf turned to you and started to whimper. You furrowed your brows when it didn't pounce on you like thought it would, but instead, it kept whimpering.

"What's wrong, bud?" You asked softly.

The wolf started to lower itself to the forest floor. You had no idea what was happening. The wolf then laid on its side.

"Oh, no, no. You're not dying, are you?" You asked nervously. "I need you to get me out of this damn forest!" You kneeled beside the animal, seeing that it was closing it's eyes. "Damn it, bud. I was starting to get emotionally attached."

You didn't know what to do now that your buddy as taken the forever nap. You just decided to sit there, your back to the wolf. You thought that it would just be easier to find your way out of the woods when the sun came up.

You didn't expect to fall asleep, but you did. The one thing that woke you up was suddenly hearing fleshy noises from behind you, that scared you enough to wake up.

You stood up and backed away from the wolf, who you realized was the culprit of those noises.

You mouth was agape as you watched piece after piece of the wolf come apart. "What the fuck?" You almost screamed when you saw a human come out of the wolf. "I must be tripping balls…" You muttered, slowly walking towards the human.

The closer you got, the closer you recognized who the naked human was. "Peter?"

The boy suddenly opened his eyes and bolted upright, looking around frantically before landing his eyes on you. "…what…the…fuck…"

Peter smiled nervously. "I, uh…I can explain."

"Uh, yeah. Please explain why you were just a fuckin wolf and now you're not! What the fuck?!" You rambled, starting to hyperventilate.

Peter stood up and walked over to you when he saw you were starting to freak out. He out his hands in your shoulders, trying to steady you. "Hey, hey, hey, Y/N. Chill out, okay. Deep breaths, come on." He spoke softly.

You took many deep breaths, hoping you that you were just dreaming somehow. But after a couple minutes, you finally calmed down. You definitely weren't dreaming.

You started to blush furiously when you briefly glanced down. "Oh my god, you're naked."

Peter chuckled. "You just noticed this?"

"Sorry, I guess I was too busy noticing you coming out of a fucking wolf."

"Well, come on. My house isn't that far away." Peter said, taking your hand and pulling you along with him.

"Uh, wait." You said, taking off your jacket and handing it over to the Rumancek boy. "Don't want your dick to get hypothermia." You joked, chuckling.

Peter chuckled and nodded gratefully. "Right. Thanks." He grabbed the jacket and wrapped it around himself.

"So, do you like remember everything when you were a wolf?" You asked.

Peter sighed. "Here come the questions." He mumbled under his breath. "Yup. Everything."

"Oh." You whispered.

"What were you doing out here anyway, huh?" Peter asked.

"Oh, uh. I told you…just ran into the woods." You tried to deflect.

"Nobody runs into the woods without a reason."

You sighed. "I…I was running away from my dad. He's not a nice man. That's all I'll say."

Peter turned to look at you briefly, but turned back. "Oh." Is all Peter said.

"Have you always been a wolf?"

"Enough with the questions." Peter snapped.

It only took a few more minutes to get to Peter's rundown single wide trailer. He took a table cloth off and wrapped it around himself, handing you back your jacket.

"Well, thanks for getting me out of the woods." You said, getting Peter's attention. "I can find my way home from here. Or…to an urgent care." You chuckled.

Peter sighed. "You can't."

You raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Please, just stay here for today. There's...a lot to talk about now."

"If you're worried about me telling someone, I won't. I promise. I'm no snitch."

Peter sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "It's not that!" He snapped, making you flinch. "Just come in. Lynda will patch you up."

You sighed. "Fine."

Upon entering his home, you saw Peter’s mother sitting on the couch. "Peter, who's this?" Lynda asked nervously.

"This is Y/N. She was in the woods. I thought she could be…you know. I…scratched her." Peter told her.

Lynda suddenly was wearing a face of deep concern. "It was just a scratch, Ms. Rumancek! It's not too bad." You voiced.

"You scratched her?" Lynda asked, a bit too loud.

You started to get nervous. "Jesus, guys, it's just a flesh wound."

Everyone in the room seemed to sigh in unison.

"Okay, can someone explain what the hell is going on?!" You yelled.

Lynda walked up to you. "Why don't you sit down, dear." She suggested. Her tone was sweet enough to persuade you. "Peter, get dressed please." She ordered.

After a minute later, Peter came back in some sweats and sat next to you, making you even more agitated. "Okay, now that everyone's here…please fuckin explain." You huffed.

"When I was out there," Peter started, “I caught the scent of something bad. I followed it, and it lead me to you. The scent was so close. I thought it must’ve been you. But when I...attacked you...the scent started to go away.”

"So, you attacked me for no reason...okay. That's fucked up."

"So, the reason I asked you to stay was…" Peter sighed.

"Tell her, Peter." Lynda said.

"I don't know how well you know about werewolves, but usually, it's said that if a wolf scratched you…you'd turn into one."

You gasped, unable to speak. There's no way. There's just no way. So you laughed, making everyone confused. "Nice prank. You almost got me there."

"This isn't some joke, Y/N. You saw me out in those woods." Peter said angrily, Lynda putting her hand on his arm to try and calm him.

"We just wanna help you now, Y/N." Peter sighed.

After giving it some thought, you decided. "You guys are fucking crazy. No way I'm stuck turning into an animal my whole life." You stood up and walked to the door. "You're secret is safe with me, Peter, but that is it. Sorry…"

You made sure to slam the door on your way out.

~~~~~~~~~~

Not Alone - Peter Rumancek (Hemlock Grove) Part 2 of 2

Eh, probably shouldn’t read this if you’re really squeamish 

~~~~~~~~~~

A week later, you were still trying to avoid Peter. But it was proven a bit difficult since school had started.

Just because you told him you weren’t buying what he was selling didn’t mean he could just leave you alone. No, that would be too easy.

Every chance he got, he’d try to persuade you to listen to him. To convince you that you were going to turn into a monster. You just couldn’t believe it. There was no way you were going to turn into a dog on a full moon. No way.

The closer it got to the next full moon, the more anxious you felt. You had no idea why, you’d completely convinced yourself that a scratch from a werewolf didn’t do anything.

But deep down, you could almost feel some of your senses were heightened. You didn’t even know if that was a thing, but maybe it was a placebo effect from all the horror movies you’ve watched.

Just a placebo. It had to be.

A brutal murder that happened to one of your fellow classmates didn’t ease your anxiety either.

You finally realized you were just staring into your dull locker when the bell finally rung. You weren’t as focused as you used to be, and that worried you.

You looked to your left to see Peter already staring at you, and you could sense it. You sensed that he sensed that you were struggling mentally. You hated it. You hated that in the back of your mind you actually believed him. You hated that you might be fated to live a life of misery and lies.

You slammed your locker closed and stormed out of school, not even caring that you had a couple periods left. You needed air.

Not really caring where you were going once again, you found yourself at the park where the Bluebell girl was murdered. You sat on a swing and sighed. You had no idea what you would do if you were going to transform in just a few nights.

“Y/N?”

You jumped, looking around to see Peter stood next to the swing set with a look of concern. “Shouldn’t you be in school?” You asked once you got over your mini heart attack.

Peter chuckled. “You’re asking me that?” He took a seat in the swing beside you, swaying in the wind gently.

“Are you sure...that I’ll turn?” You asked in an almost whisper.

Peter sighed. “It’s happened before. One of my family members, he attacked his wife in a rage. He only scratched her before he came to his senses...she turns on full moons ever since.”

You closed your eyes. “Fuck...”

“Hey,” He voiced softly, “it’s not as miserable as you think it will be.”

“Will I be in control?” You looked at him.

“Yep, the whole time.” He smiled.

“...will it hurt?” You asked timidly, suddenly feeling sick when the Peter’s smile went away.

Peter scratched the back of his head. “You, uh, you get used to it.”

“What’s the probability that I won’t turn?”

Peter thought for a moment, looking up towards the sky like he was searching for the answer in the clouds. “Like...two percent maybe?”

You groaned.

“I can be with you when you turn...if you want.” Peter suggested timidly. “I know how nerve wracking it can be when you turn for the first time. Greenies usually turn earlier than someone who’s been turning for a long time already. I could like...guide you though it.”

You didn’t know why you blushed, but you did. “Uh, I suppose. Might as well, right?” You giggled. “Man, it’ll be real embarrassing if I don’t end up turning.”

“Yeah, I’ll make fun of you if you don’t.” Peter teased.

Some more days passed and you started to feel nauseous almost constantly. You really hated the wait the most.

You and Peter started to hang out together more, now that everyone thought he had something to do with the murder at the park. But he assured you that it wasn’t, for the murder had taken place on the wrong moon.

What you didn’t like was that Peter had been somewhat friendly with the heir to Godfrey industry, Roman. You weren’t his biggest fan.

Currently, you were in Peter’s room, reading a book. You got into the habit of staying at Peter’s every chance you got to get away from your father’s sharp tongue. Lynda welcomed you with open arms as well.

You were starting to worry when Peter didn’t come home right away. Staring at the clock, you realized it was only a few hours till sundown. You really didn’t want to be alone when you turned for the first time. Although, Lynda would be with you.

The palms of your hands started to sweat as Peter stormed in the through the front door. “Where have you been?” Lynda scolded.

You stood up and ran to Peter, engulfing him in a hug. “You scared me. I thought I’d have to turn alone.” You laughed breathlessly.

Peter avoided your eyes. “Yep, you won’t be alone alright.” He coughed.

You furrowed your brows. “What the hell does that mean?” Lynda asked for you.

“Roman’s coming here.”

“What?” You shouted.

“He asked if he could watch.”

“And you said he could?” Lynda screeched.

“I didn’t say yes...or no.”

“Peter, this is the first time this girl is going to turn because of you. And you thought it was a good idea to let an Upir come here?” Lynda asked, making you confused.

“She’s gonna turn before me, so it won’t matter anyway.”

“Wait, what’s an Upir?” You asked.

Peter sighed. “It doesn’t matter right now. What matters is we need to prepare you for the your first turn. Come on.” He lead you to his bedroom.

Peter sat you down on his bed, and started to pace his room. “Peter, you okay?”

He laughed. “I should be asking you that.”

“Well, I’m not feeling too well.” You chuckled weakly.

“That’s normal. By the way, don’t worry about Roman. He’s only gonna watch me turn.”

“What should I expect?” You asked, starting to feel queasy.

Peter sat beside you. “The first turn is the worst. It’s scary, especially if you don’t have someone with you. It sounds horrible, but it makes it easier if you rip off your skin...helps the wolf break out quicker.”

Upon hearing that, you started to tear up. “I really don’t want to do this, Peter...” You cried.

Peter’s eyes softened, bringing you into his arms. “It’ll be okay. I’m gonna be with you every step of the way.” Peter’s watch suddenly beeped, making you flinch. He sat up, reaching his hand out to you.

“It’s time...I can feel it.” You whispered, voice wavering.

Peter brought you outside, motioning for Lynda to join too. “Okay...” He started. “You, uh, have to take off your clothes.”

Your eyes widened, looking to Lynda. She nodded, assuring you that it was something you were supposed to do. You slowly started to remove all the articles of clothing, blushing.

After that, you saw Peter and Lynda only looking at your face. You started to feel more comfortable, despite knowing you were going to turn.

You took a breath and suddenly, you felt a sharp pain in your side. You cried out, hearing and feeling your own bones shift inside you. 

You glanced up at Peter, him looking at you with remorse.

You cried out again at the repeated cracks of your bones, falling to your knees and hands. You felt like your eyes were going to burst. Then they did, your eyes burst and fell out of your sockets.

You were completely blind for a moment, then you could see, but your vision wasn’t like it used to be. It was like you could only see in certain colors. It was strange, but felt natural.

One by one, all your teeth started to fall out and were replaced by sharp ones. Canines. The pain got even more intense and you felt like you were going to die, you let out high pitched screams.

You wanted to yell, “what the fuck?” when you started to hear your screams come out lower and distorted, but you were too busy screaming out in agony.

You reached up and clawed at your face, violently ripping off your skin. It burned like hell, but Peter was right, it did make it easier.

Eventually, your human form didn’t even feel like yourself. It just felt like it was a cast over your normal self, and that’s exactly what made it easier for you to rip off the human flesh.

You clawed and clawed, finally finding it easier to break free of the heavy pink flesh.

You shook off the rest of the meat that was attached to you by its blood, spraying it everywhere around you. You saw all the meat on the ground, and you felt so hungry.

Peter watched as you started to eat your discarded human flesh. It was hard watching you turn, knowing it was his fault in the first place.

Peter could’ve gasped when he saw your fur. He wasn’t really sure what to expect of your coat. He thought that maybe you’d look exactly like his wolf, since he was the one who made you.

But your coat wasn’t exactly like his, but it was similar. Most of your fur was a blackish grey color, flecks of white around your chest. You looked up at Peter with icy blue eyes.

Peter thought you were beautiful.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hemlock Grove

YAY, so I may get all three season of Hemlock Grove an in the end of this month or beginning of October! So excited