#Roman Godfrey & x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherienymphe · 1 year ago

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Bite Marks & Bruises (Roman Godfrey x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, stalking, period sex + consumption, blood, compulsion

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies

summary: Roman Godfrey is spoiled and arrogant and rude...and he gets whatever he wants.

Your life was over the first moment you stepped into The Godfrey Mansion.

The dark, gothic, and imposing structure was a staple in Hemlock Grove for as long as you could remember, countless stories being passed around at sleepovers about all manner of horrors and mysteries that probably took place in the home. Tales of shadowy figures and howling wolves and low moaning wails like whispers on the wind. None of it was true, of course, lies made up by overimaginative girls with too much time on their hands, driven to pass around falsities out of an unquenched desire to see what the infamous house was really like.

As you got older, such stories became silly to you, aware that it was just a home like any other owned by some rich woman like any other. All of its intrigue lay in its exclusivity, its secretiveness, and with maturity came the lessening desire to see inside some fancy old home. Even as you walked the halls with its inhabitants—Shelley and Roman Godfrey—the Godfrey mansion was just something you thought about less and less.

Until about six months after you graduated.

…and Olivia Godfrey was offering you substantial compensation to tutor her daughter.

It wasn’t an answer that required a lot of thought on your end. After all, you would be relaxing in a beautiful mansion and helping some seventeen-year-old with her homework while getting paid for it. With no desire—and no money—to jet off to college anytime soon, it seemed like an obvious choice. Those silly stories that you and your friends would tell each other under the cover of darkness behind closed bedroom doors were the farthest thing from your mind.

It was cold the first day you walked to The Godfrey Mansion.

It was the middle of November in Pennsylvania—air biting, leaves crunchy, and breeze gentle. Olivia Godfrey greeted you with a smile, her dark hair looking like midnight against her fair skin. The mother of two didn’t look a day over thirty, and you remembered staring at her, feeling so hypnotized by her beauty and wondering how she was old enough to have two children of graduating age. Her thin statuesque frame swayed gently with her every step, hands gingerly flailing about as she gave you the grand tour.

“All of her tutoring will take place up in her room,” she told you, tone rich and poised. “Shelley is so very particular about her space…and I’m trusting you.”

That last comment was said slowly, and she turned to face you as she said it, hands clasped together as her umber eyes connected with yours. Silence followed, and you didn’t need to be a genius to know what she was getting at. You recalled how the kids at school would treat Shelley, how they would simultaneously fear and torment her. Her daughter was protective of her space, she was protective of her daughter, and she was allowing you access to both.

“I understand,” you eventually forced out, nodding.

It was quick, but her cold visage transformed almost instantly, that ever-polite smile on her pink lips. In no time, Olivia Godfrey had turned back around and was continuing to lead you through the mansion. She droned on about the different rooms, making a point to comment on your chances of getting lost should you need to use the bathroom or something.

“Shelley must get all of her rest as growing teens do, so you won’t be staying all hours of the night, but you will be welcome to join us for dinner should you ever choose to.”

You didn’t know if you’d ever take her up on the offer, but you welcomed the polite invite, nonetheless.

You’d been tutoring Shelley for four days when you finally came face to face with him. Roman Godfrey—tall and spoiled and possessing the kind of face every girl you knew would gush over. You’d been in the same graduating class, but you were sure that you’d never talked to Roman once, not until you were in his house and eating his food, at least. You recalled walking to and from school most days, your gaze catching sight of that bright red convertible.

Since graduating, you didn’t see it as much.

After reuniting in his dining room…you saw it all the time.

“Sweetheart, you remember Y/N, don’t you?” Olivia’s articulate speech filled the air as soon as her son stepped through the threshold. “I believe she graduated with you last year.”

She continued after looking to you for confirmation, smiling at her son when you nodded.

“She’s been tutoring Shelley, and she finally took me up on my offer to join us for dinner.”

The dark-haired teenager didn’t say a word at first, slowly making his way to the table. You had never known Roman to look…bad, always dressed immaculate even while wearing the simplest of things. Shelley—a much more outgoing individual than you’d initially believed—had smiled at her brother with his approach. Their mother had started up an entirely different conversation, one you tried to be involved in, but you felt trapped by Roman’s gaze instead.

If you thought Olivia Godfrey was hypnotizing and entrancing in every way, then Roman Godfrey was absolutely paralyzing.

It was hard to look away from him, trying everything in your power to but failing every time. His dark hair was neat and pushed away from his face, perfect and put together even within the privacy of his home. His green eyes didn’t look so green, and you wondered if it was the lighting in the dining room…or something else entirely. When he finally made himself comfortable next to Shelley and diagonal from you, only then did you find the strength to lower your gaze to your food.

Dinner was a talkative affair, Olivia dominating the conversation with the occasional commentary from her son. She pulled you into the dialogue here and there, but with an oppressing gaze weighing down on you, you felt…restricted. It was purely all in your head, you knew that, but you couldn’t fight the thought that Roman was watching your every move—judging you.

You really could not get out of the house fast enough when dinner was over, hoping that your sudden skittishness was not noticeable. Roman’s gaze was something you felt on you even as you insisted you’d make it home just fine. Olivia didn’t fight you too much on it, and you were grateful, and the darkness that met you was somehow less terrifying than vibrant green eyes. It wasn’t until the next day when you realized that Roman wasn’t judging you, at all.

What he was doing was much worse.

“I really don’t mind walking.”

You told him this as he sat in your driveway, that familiar fancy red car taking up residence in it. The sun was out, and he was wearing shades and a thick jacket that made him appear bigger than he actually was. His jaw slowly moved, some gum in his mouth you presumed, and after a moment or two, he slowly turned his head to stare directly at you. Your eyes briefly glanced at his tapping finger against the wheel.

“You’re tutoring Shelley. Why would I make you walk all the way to our house when it’s not like I have anything better to do, anyway?”

He said it so flippantly, almost like this whole ordeal annoyed him, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that his mother made him park in your driveway. However, Roman never struck you as the kind of guy to do something he didn’t want to do, so his attitude only served to confuse you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, and although you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew they were fixated on you.

You could feel the heat of them despite the cold air that surrounded you.

After some time of your short impasse, a slow smirk danced along his lips.

“I could always make you…”

His voice was low, and there was something mirthful in his tone, like the idea of dragging you and forcing you into his fancy car was an entertaining one. Something in you told you that he would despite what you wanted to believe, and something else told you that he’d enjoy it very much. With that thought and a sigh, you finally conceded and made your way to his passenger side.

His eyes remained on you the whole way there.

The ride was quiet, the walk from his car to the door even quieter.

Olivia’s voice rang through the house, inquiring as to if that was him coming through the door. The sound of his voice was answer enough, and you looked away from him when he slowly took off his shades.

“…and Y/N.”

Something about the sound of your name coming from his lips unnerved you. It didn’t exactly roll off of his tongue, something mocking in the way he said it, and you stared straight ahead as you walked down the hall in search of Shelley. You didn’t dare look back, afraid of what might be gaining on you.

Roman was the kind of guy that was impossible to ignore. Not only because he was just that imposing, but also because he simply wouldn’t let you. You’d gone to school with him for years, and it wasn’t until you both graduated did you learn that he was needy and constant in his want for attention. He was disturbingly honest, vulnerable to his desire to say the first thing on his mind no matter how inappropriate.

…and he was determined to get what he wanted once he decided he wanted it.

“So what? You didn’t want to fuck off out of this town and go to college or something?”

He asked you one day as you relaxed—as best as you could within his presence, anyway—in the passenger seat of his car. He wasn’t wearing his shades, and you almost missed them when you looked over to meet his green gaze. It was so intense, and there were moments where you were sure that Roman could see right through you.

“Don’t know what I would go for,” you replied, the cold air whipping against your face.

You could feel him looking at you as you stared through the windshield, and you got the feeling that he wanted you to elaborate on that. Even if you did know how to talk to Roman, you still wouldn’t. He made you uncomfortable in ways you couldn’t even explain, and the worst thing you did was allow him to know that.

There always seemed to be some sick pleasure in his eyes, the green of them glinting with something unknown to you. He watched you like a cat would a mouse, a wolf would a deer, a predator fully amusing itself with the prey it had in its line of reach. Only, Roman wasn’t some predator. He was some guy, you reminded yourself, and you were simply some girl.

At worst, you likened Roman to that of an asshole with too much free time on his hands.

The only person spared from that was his sister.

“You’re good with her,” he commented, turning his car off as it sat in your driveway.

Your hand was on the handle, seconds away from exiting the vehicle when he spoke. His voice had startled you, used to the silence of his unwavering gaze as he watched you exit his car and go into the house. You watched him place a cigarette between his lips, the flame from his lighter brightening his face in the night. The smell of smoke followed soon after.

“Shelley,” he explained, exhaling. “You’re good with her. She likes you.”

You glanced away, squirming in your seat when presented with an actual conversation you could have with the rich boy.

“I like her too. She’s very sweet…and…even funny, sometimes.”

You shrugged when he looked at you, pulling another drag, and the longer he stared at you, the more uncomfortable you started to feel. You looked away, gaze falling to your purse at your feet, preparing to grab it and wish him a good night when he spoke again.

“My mother thinks I stare at you too much.”

His words shocked you, and your eyes widened when you looked at him again. He wasn’t looking at you, now, smoking and partaking in his cigarette. Your own lips parted, unsure of how to respond to that, and he took another drag, loudly exhaling. Roman had a habit of saying anything that was on his mind, so that wasn’t what shocked you. You were shocked because it wasn’t all in your head…

…and that someone else had noticed too.

“She’s right,” he breathed, gazing at you, now, and you swallowed.

His eyes were taken with the action, lowering and resting on your neck for a few seconds too long. It was late and dark, save for the half moon in the sky, but something in his gaze seemed to shift as he stared at your throat, eyes tracing the very top of your chest before they met yours again.

You swore they weren’t as green, now.

“I do stare,” he murmured, looking away and taking another pull—a final pull—of the cigarette between his fingers. “You’re pretty…and I sometimes wonder if you were this pretty in school.”

You didn’t know if you liked where this conversation was going, straightening and looking away.

“School was only six months ago,” you mumbled, finally speaking after some time. “I can’t possibly look that different.”

Roman chuckled then, and it was a genuine sound, and so you didn’t know if he was laughing at you or himself.

“You’re right,” he relented. “I was probably just too busy fucking cheerleaders and paying already rich girls for sex.”

You grimaced, reaching for your purse, now when he stopped you. You were alarmed by the feel of his hand on your wrist, and when you looked up at him from your leaned over position, it seemed that Roman was somewhat startled by his own actions. Like he’d always entertained the thought but never imagined he’d go through with it. He quickly let you go like you’d burned him, and you slowly sat up as he cleared his throat.

“Shelley’s gonna be hanging out with our uncle tomorrow…” he looked away. “They’re close like that, but… That doesn’t mean I still can’t pick you up.”

He said a whole lot without saying much, and you felt your stomach twist. Roman was used to telling a girl he wanted her and then…well…having her. You’d seen it many times, the way they flocked to him and preened at the opportunity to fuck Roman Godfrey, and it wasn’t that he wasn’t attractive…because he was.

…and he knew it.

Roman scared you. Everything about him seemed designed with the key purpose of repelling you. He was too observant, too sure of himself, too…creepy. These weren’t things you could overlook, and instead of helping him, you were sure that his looks didn’t help your feelings. Roman didn’t look real at times—genetically altered even—and it only made you think there was something…inhuman about him.

Something that told you he wasn’t like you…and you should be wary.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you honestly replied, and you didn’t stick around to look at his face.

You held your purse to you as you got out of his car, and you reluctantly looked at him, your sympathetic gaze meeting his even one.

“I’m just here to tutor Shelley…and…we should probably keep it that way.”

You kept your rejection soft, and you turned away from him before he could reply. You ignored the feel of his gaze boring into your back, wrapping your arms around yourself as some half assed protection against the cold. You couldn’t get in your house fast enough, and you swore that you’d been leaning against the door for at least half an hour, waiting to hear him finally drive off.

The first night Roman raped you, it was raining.

Storming, to be more specific. It was odd because it was winter, and Pennsylvania was known for its summer storms. It was why you were even at the mansion so late, Roman refusing to drive in the violent downpour and you unable to walk. Olivia seemed to care neither here nor there about the whole thing, almost annoyingly cavalier about your plight.

“Oh, darling, you know how unpredictable a bit of rain can be,” she’d said, a glass of wine in her hand. “There’s no shortage of guest rooms. Find one for the night. I’m sure Roman can be of some help in that department.”

You hadn’t missed her crooked smile, an almost wicked sight as she softly chuckled to herself. She clearly found her son’s attraction to you amusing, harmless even, while you found it uncomfortable at best. Shelley was the one to help you get sorted for the night, visible eye soft and smile even softer as she pointed out where the towels and such would be.

You hadn’t realized you’d forgotten the problem of clothes until you stepped out of the shower to find some on the counter.

You froze at the sight, sure that you hadn’t heard a soul come in. At least…no one who wanted to be heard, and you grimaced before putting them on. Walking the corridors of The Godfrey Mansion with clothes in hand felt weird, and when you made it to your chosen guest bedroom of the night, you still didn’t relax.

Nothing about the mansion was calming, and the raging storm outside only made it worse. You laid in bed for a long time, wide awake and staring at the ceiling, just waiting for your heart to stop racing and your mind to grow quiet. It felt like forever, but it happened, and when it did, you finally felt your lashes flutter.

Sleep was finally yours.

…and then you woke up.

The sharp stabbing pain had you sitting up in bed, hand pressed to your stomach at the ache you felt deep within it. The familiar ache, and you felt your heart sink, wondering how your night could possibly get any worse. You didn’t need to look at the bed to know that you’d left something behind, only searching for your purse, positive you had an extra pad or tampon or something.

Relief filled your heart, and product in hand, you made your way into the hall in search of the bathroom. So focused on your pain and finding the bathroom, you didn’t mind the dark corridor, at all. Any other night, and you might have been hypervigilant with fear, but as it were, you could only focus on stopping any more ruin of the pajamas you’d been given.

It was a noise from behind you that gave you pause, and as you turned around, all those childhood stories about the fearful Godfrey Mansion came to mind. Every manifestation of what goes bump in the night filled your mind, but as you stared into the darkness, darkness was all you were met with. Telling yourself that an old mansion was bound to creak and groan, you turned away.

…and straight into Roman.

His very presence forced a shriek from your lips, and in your panic, your hands pressed to his chest. His bare chest. You didn’t register it, at first, so focused on trying to calm your heart and relax again. Your hands were empty, your saving grace of the night on the floor, and when you took a step back to pick it up, Roman took one forward.

You paused at the action.

“Roman-.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

The question came out somewhat harsh, and you squinted at him in the darkness. It threw you off for several reasons, but mostly because you didn’t understand what he meant. As best as you could make it out in the darkness, his face seemed contorted, pinched actually—eyes narrowed, lips pursed, and gaze riddled with accusations.

“…what? Roman, what are you-.”

Your words died in the air when he forced himself closer, a strange look on his face as he eyed you. You watched his nostrils flare, another step forward from Roman, and you finally took another back. He was so close, too close, and when you blinked, you remembered that you didn’t have time to try and understand Roman tonight. Ignoring him, you reached down, and as soon as your hand was around what you so desperately needed, another hand was coming down on your wrist.

You reacted harshly, flinching and crying out, and you registered that Roman’s grip was actually…painful.

You were both standing now, Roman still holding onto you, and his nose brushed against yours as he leaned in. His hair, normally so neat and perfectly in place, was kissing his forehead. The dark strands were going every which way, and when his lips parted, a soft exhale escaping in time with a flutter of his lashes, only then did you say his name again.

As if waking up from a dream, you watched his eyes focus in on your face, really focus, and it took him some time to let you go.

Your wrist ached, his phantom touch lingering, and you held it to you protectively. You felt that you could really see into Roman’s eyes, now, and the mansion lit up from a brief flash of lightning. His own eyes glinted, and you recalled that the last time you and Roman were this close, he was trying to spend time with you outside of his sister’s tutoring.

…and you’d turned him down.

When he took a step back, he finally spoke again.

“Looking for the bathroom?”

You wondered how he knew that, but you surmised that it was a good guess. After all, it was the middle of the night, and you were roaming the corridors with a tampon in hand. At your nod, he slowly smiled at you, something mocking in it as he reached out to rest a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s over here,” he told you. “You’ll get lost without me.”

His voice was smooth, tone almost gentle, and it was like that awkward and startling moment had never even happened. His touch was light on your arm as he guided you through the darkness, and as uncomfortable as Roman made you, in your predicament, you didn’t have much choice but to follow his lead. The muffled sound of rain was all that surrounded you, and when Roman finally reached what looked like the bathroom, you relaxed.

“They say sex helps with that…”

You paused, looking at the rich boy, and his visage was serious.

“The cramps,” he continued with a raise of his brows as if you didn’t know what he was getting at.

“So, I’ve heard,” you said after some time, unsure of how to even respond to that.

When you walked into the bathroom, you were shocked by the feel of Roman ripping the tampon out of your hand. The light from the bathroom lit up the hallway behind him, the darkness on the edge of the doorway making him look…ominous. His gaze was unreadable, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

“You’re not funny,” you told him, reaching for it, but he only held it out of reach. “Roman…”

You stumbled back when he crossed the threshold, blocking the doorway completely, and irritated and in pain, you were losing your patience for his game. He could be such a child sometimes, demanding attention at the worst moment possible, and you grabbed the tampon with a quickness. Only, Roman held onto it too, and he pushed at your hand, forcing you back in the process.

His green irises glinted under the light.

“Roman…”

You words died in the air when his hand slid to wrap around your wrist like earlier, and you felt your heart…drop.

The way he stared at you, something about it was terrifying, and his eyes started to appear almost unfocused. His hand tightened, and you winced, and you were just about to say his name again when the sound of the door clicking shut reached your ears. You blinked, looking behind him, unaware that he’d forced you both so far into the bathroom with enough room to kick the door shut. Like the first day you came face to face with him again, you felt paralyzed, trapped under the crushing weight of his gaze, and you could feel your heart speed up.

His hold on your arm prevented you from moving when he kissed you.

You were in shock, feeling wholly out of control that you just stood there, unable to quite feel his lips on yours. You felt crowded by him, forced to hold still lest you provoke something impulsive, and you didn’t even register just how painful his hold on your wrist became. You only blinked when the stabbing pain deep in the pit of your stomach reminded you of your plight.

Pulling away, you pushed at his chest.

“Roman, what the hell?”

Your lower back painfully met the sink, and you simultaneously tried to lean away and push him away too. His other hand snaked around your neck, your head harshly pressing against the mirror, and you whined in frustration. His lithe frame found a home between your kicking legs, and your panic seized you when he kissed you again.

Fighting against Roman felt like a lost cause—he was stronger than he looked.

The kiss felt hungry, like he was trying to devour you, and you whined again as he pressed you against the sink more. The hand on your wrist kept your arm outstretched, and he let out a sound in between the kiss that sounded somewhat like a hiss. His breathing was heavy too, and when he finally let your neck go, there was no sense of relief.

You pushed at him as he pulled at your pants, and they were barely to your knees when Roman suddenly dropped. One hand on your leg kept you from moving, the other preoccupied with getting the other out of the borrowed pajamas. Horror and confusion were battling within you, and all you could manage to do was hit at the wall when he dipped his head between your thighs.

Horrifying and bloody circumstances aside, you didn’t want this.

You cried out his name, throat tightening, and your free leg banged against the sink cabinet. One of his hands had a death grip on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin so harshly you knew it would bruise. He kept it pushed away, practically flat against the counter, the stretch burning in a way that made you wince. However, the feel of his tongue between your legs made for a confusing reaction.

Your head was spinning at the feel of his tongue sliding along your bloody folds, lips completely covering your mound as he sucked at you. Your eyes rolled, and it was hard to focus on the true nature of what was going on. Your toes curled under his ministrations, and your nails scraped against the wall and counter top.

“Roman, stop,” you choked out, heart beating wildly in your chest.

You finally pushed at his chest, whining in both pain and pleasure when he refused to move, only lapping at you harder. Your stomach was tightening for more reasons than one, now, and despite the cold season and cold mansion, you felt so hot. Too hot.

Roman hooked his arm under your thigh, yanking you down further, and you were in too much of an awkward and painful position to properly fight back. When your nails dug into his face, his other arm wrapped around your free leg, forcing that one where he wanted it to be too. You couldn’t even grapple with the full circumstances of Roman with his face between your legs during that time of the month, reaching out at the wall and counter in panic when he fell back, taking you with him.

Unable to move, you were forced to sit on his face, hands pushing against the wall behind him as a means to get free. That tightening in your gut was accompanied with a pleasant burn, now, and your breath hitched, lashes fluttering at that tightening coil, shrinking more and more until it had no choice but to release, making you gasp when it did.

The moan you let out was unlike anything you’d heard from yourself, shocked at the strain in your voice. You couldn’t breathe fast enough, sucking in air with a swimming vision. In Roman’s greedy consumption of you, his hold loosened, and you didn’t hesitate to push yourself off of him. You were still shaking, the remnants of your orgasm gripping you, and your eyes were wide as you looked at Roman. He laid on the floor with parted lips, slowly blinking in wonder as he ran his hands through his hair.

The entire bottom half of his face was covered in your blood.

You felt frozen, unsure of how to even process what had just happened. You were so confused and disturbed and scared, staring at Roman like he was something not of this world, and when you finally shifted, that’s when he seemed to remember your presence, green eyes landing on you with a quickness that made you freeze up, as if trying to make yourself as small as possible.

Your scream rang throughout the bathroom when he lunged for you.

Roman’s bloody face was all you could focus on as he hovered over you, pushing his cock into you over and over again. Every time his hips met yours, your chest arched up against his, back curving and eyes rolling. Roman was so silent that you would’ve swore he was possessed, but there was an awareness in his green gaze that told you he was anything but.

His hands held yours down, dark brown hair hanging into his forehead. On the off chance that he smiled, it was a bloody one, and it scared you more than anything. The bathroom floor was cool against your naked back, and through the haze of Roman’s assault, you realized—with reluctance—that the feel of his cock driving in and out of you was indeed helping with your cramps.

The inside of your thighs were a bloody mess, much like his face, and as disgusting as it was, it was the least of your worries. Roman was a lot of things, annoyingly arrogant above all else, but you never pegged him for a rapist. A freak, maybe, yes, but a rapist? No. The sound of skin slapping against skin was loud in the bathroom, and so focused on the feel of him plunging into you, you couldn’t even pinpoint when the storm had ended.

You cried out, tears spilling over as you pressed your hands against the hood of his car. You kept trying to push yourself up, but Roman’s determined hands kept shoving you back down. The moon was hidden by the clouds, no visible light shining down on his assault, a hand of his twisted at the nape of your neck.

You pressed your nails against his vehicle, and that was when he yanked you back, lips at your ear.

“Don’t scratch the fucking paint,” Roman spat, sounding very mad by the mere thought, and you insulted him several times over behind closed lips.

You’d tried to quit after that horrific stormy night in which Roman raped you on the bathroom floor. You’d given Olivia Godfrey every excuse in the book and tried to gently let Shelley down many times over, but the single matriarch simply wouldn’t hear it. She rolled her eyes in that coquettish way she tended to do, a soft smirk on her pink lips. Or she’d simply laugh you off, a sharp ‘nonsense’ soon to follow.

“Am I not paying you enough? Do you want more?”

“It’s not about the money,” you’d replied.

No amount of money in the world could possibly make up for the sick deviant that was her son.

After he came inside of you, breathless and satisfied, he’d dragged you crying and kicking all the way to his room. Any fight from you was immediately squashed down, and you didn’t know if Roman had snorted a few lines of coke or what, but no one was more shocked than you when he pushed you onto his bed, determined to continue what he’d started in the bathroom.

You’d been a dazed and abused mess when you snuck out in the early hours of the morning, half dressed and still bleeding. It hadn’t been Roman that came for you, but Olivia instead, talks of obligations and Shelley. No amount of refusal had deterred her, and you got the strangest feeling that the older woman fully knew the extent of just how her son felt about you.

You felt trapped.

By kind and sweet Shelley who broke your heart to leave, by Olivia who wanted to spoil her son with his new plaything of choice, and most of all by Roman who decided he had to have something once he wanted it. The last time you’d tried to quit, Olivia merely waved you off with a soft laugh, and when you turned around, none other than Roman had been at the end of the corridor, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

It was how you found yourself in his car, no choice but to let him drive you home. You hadn’t uttered a word to him since that night, and as you very well knew… Roman hated to be ignored. He was going to command your attention one way or another, and you hadn’t even heard him open his door after you, following close behind until his hands were on you and pushing you down onto his car.

Your forehead grazed the vehicle as he plunged his cock into you, stretching you out in your driveway for anyone to see. The embarrassment of such a thought was what kept you quiet, tears kissing your cheeks as you were forced to take his thrusts. His jeans were pulled down just enough to give him room to fuck you as he wanted, your own pants down around your ankles while he rutted into you.

When Roman came, he pressed his face into your hair, breathing you in with deep inhales. You could feel his heartbeat against your back, and you sniffed, shakily reaching up to wipe your face. Roman remained where he was for a few moments too long, just basking in the feel of you wrapped around him, and after some time, he let out a low chuckle.

It was a disturbing sound.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about this pussy since that night…” he breathed, finally pulling away.

You felt him right himself, and he was rough in doing the same to you, pulling your pants up. Once done, he rested his hands on your hips, remaining close and leaning in.

“Quit trying to quit,” he harshly said. “My sister really likes you, and if you hurt her feelings, I’ll make you choke on it.”

You stumbled back when he finally pulled away to make his way to the driver’s seat. You wrapped your arms around yourself, struggling to swallow as you accepted the truth in his words. You believed him wholeheartedly, and you trembled from more than just the cold as you watched him speed away in that fancy red car.

You knew that you wouldn’t be getting much sleep, and you hated how right you were when you were staring at your ceiling hours later. Like the day after that night, you’d scrubbed yourself until you felt raw, but even still, you could feel his hands on you. Those long fingers that were more reminiscent of spider legs than limbs.

Roman Godfrey was equally rotten inside as he was beautiful.

You discovered just how rotten only a week later when he was holding you down for the umpteenth time, a wicked smile on his lips just before leaning down. The sharp pain where your shoulder and neck met made you jerk beneath him, and beneath the cover of darkness, you just knew that the strong smell that hit your nose was blood.

You didn’t think it was possible for Roman to horrify you any more.

…but he did, and you screamed, and he only held you tighter. He was resting comfortably between your parted legs, fitting snuggly inside of you as he made a pulling sensation with his mouth. You squirmed beneath him, fighting and pushing back as much as you could, but he wasn’t deterred. You could feel his hips jerk, a gasp escaping you as he thrust into you to the hilt.

Your hands clawed at his bedding, the sound of tearing fabric reaching your ears above the low moans that left Roman. When he got his fill, you were a sobbing mess, reaching up to clutch your neck as he curved his hips into yours. You could feel some of your blood drip onto you from his mouth, and when his bloody lips met yours, you gagged.

Your disbelief was forced to be suspended with the unfortunate truth that was right in front of you. You didn’t really care about what was possible or not in that moment, only wanting to get away from him. Roman seemed entertained with your struggle, fighting with your hands as he fucked you, a tight grip on your wrist. The other hand danced down your body, light touches and skin grazes along the way.

“Look at me,” he murmured, drunk off the taste of you. “Look at me.”

His bloody hand on your face forced you to do just that, and his calm voice stopped you from shaking. Even in the dark, it was like his green irises were all you could see, and the color was so calming—so soothing—that when he told you to relax…you did.

You felt so at ease as he slowly thrust into you, pulling out until only the tip of him remained before pushing all the way back in again. The feel made you sighed, and Roman sighed too, a soft hum escaping him. Deep in the back of your mind, you were still terrified of the dark-haired boy, but despite that, you just felt so calm.

“Good,” he softly purred. “Good girl.”

One of his hands rested on the headboard above you, the other pressed into the pillow beside your head. You were so relaxed that all you could do was stare up at him as he surged over you again and again, retreating with every pull of his hips and driving forward with every thrust. Relaxed, you were more able to focus on the sound of his cock sinking into you, the squelching noise reaching your ears as your body fought to cling to him and keep him from leaving each and every time.

Dazedly, you reached up to touch your neck again, the smell of blood strong, and as you lifted your hand to look at it, Roman leaned down to cover your fingers with his mouth. The hum that met your ears was one of appreciation, and when you came for the first time that night, you were met with another.

“You’ve had enough?” he wondered, hand pressed into your stomach as he drove his hips against yours. “…or you want more from daddy?”

His voice was low and gruff, strained with emotion as he basked in the tight and warm feel of you. It didn’t really matter what your answer would be for Roman had already decided to fuck you well into the night as he wished. When you came for a final time, his hands were leaving bruises into your hips, and you were ripping his sheets apart.

The woods of Hemlock Grove seemed extra thick and hazardous tonight, as if it was their sole purpose to slow you down and trap you for him.

Bite marks and bruises littered your skin for months before you finally cracked. Months of walking into The Godfrey Mansion with fear, tutoring Shelley and distracted the entire time by thoughts of Roman. Wondering when he’d come to collect you, what corner he might pop out of, when you might feel the brush of his touch along your shoulder. You didn’t stay for dinner anymore, unable to sit across from Roman and have him stare you down as he reminisced on the feel of you coming around him, bleeding and broken.

Olivia Godfrey pretended not to notice Roman shadowing you like a ghost, like a grim reaper come to collect what he felt he was owed. She smiled that coy smile and waved around those waifish arms, all the while nursing a cigarette or a drink, fully aware of what her spoiled son got up to under the cover of darkness when no one could see your abuse at his hands.

Your last period had been your last straw, shuddering at the memory of Roman keeping you prisoner on top of him as he ate you out so long that it started to grow painful at some point. When he finally sank into you—in more ways than one—you couldn’t even try to enjoy it, too overstimulated to the point where you kept trying to get away.

Roman was sound asleep when you ran.

…but he was wide awake in time to run after you.

You truly didn’t even know where you were going, so set on just getting away from the terrifying boy that you just let your feet carry you. The biting air cut at your skin, and the leaves crunched beneath you. It was only moments ago when his voice had rang through the trees, your name bouncing off of the trunks as he desperately called for you.

“I can smell you!”

That fact did not deter you, sure that you could escape him. Every whip of a branch cut into you, and you knew the blood that you felt was the very same blood he smelled. The steep inclines and downward slopes of Hemlock Grove slowed you down, tiring you out, and your chest hurt from your harsh sobs. You had just pulled yourself up a small hill when you fell to the ground.

You were not alone.

“Y/N,” Roman snarled, a guttural edge to his voice that made you cry harder. “Get back here!”

He screamed it so passionately and loudly that it actually made you wince, and your vision was blurred from your tears as you clawed at the ground, fighting to get away from him. His fingers dug into your pants, preventing you from moving as much as you wanted, and despite the fact that you knew no one would come, you screamed for help when he crawled up your body.

He slammed your head into the ground, impulsively, and you saw stars in your vision. He succeeded in what he wanted, halting your movements for a time as you fought to collect yourself. In that time, Roman had already covered your frame, chest completely pressed down on your back. His hand closed around your throat, pulling your head back some.

“Don’t be stupid,” he roughly told you, lips at your ear. “Don’t be fucking stupid.”

You clawed at the dirt and leaves as his other hand reached beneath you, sliding into your pants with ease and cupping you. He made a noise of appreciation at the feel, and as Roman told you that you’d never escape him, he sank his teeth into your neck.

In your despair, you accepted this truth.

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #hemlock grove #roman godfrey fic #roman godfrey imagine

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taintandviolent · 6 months ago

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Ache ; Roman Godfrey x secretary!Reader

summary: [PART TWO TO THIS FIC!] It's only been a week and a half since secretary!reader and Roman's little interaction in his office, but he's pretending like nothing happened. When reader decides to have a night out, Roman's jealousy gets the best of him and he intervenes.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 4.3K | themes of jealousy and possessiveness, mentions of alcohol, Roman kind of being aggressive for no reason, blood kink, blood consumption, cunnilingus (female receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, finger sucking, mind control.

a/n: idea/requested by @xxbimbobunnyxx! thank you so much for having thoughts and letting me indulge in my sicko thoughts about this tall Swedish man, baby!! i hope you love this! not really beta-read, as per usual. forgive me. divider by @/strangergraphics!!

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

It had been a week and a half but it had felt like an eternity to you, if you were being truthful with yourself. Business ran as normal; your menial tasks and appointment setting resumed. Roman looked at you the same way he always did, unnervingly, hungrily, with his lips pursed forward and wide eyes following you as you walked past, but he hadn't mentioned it. In fact, it was as though it had never happened at all. There were no secretive touches, no lingering smirks... he'd hardly called you into his office, in fact. Aside from work-related topics, he was all but ignoring you.

He'd told you not to mention it to anyone, but you thought there would be something, some semblance of recognition in his eyes when your gazes met. If there was, it was masked by his own impassive aloofness. You were frustrated in every way, but most of all sexually. Your nights at home were spent furiously masterbating in your bathtub or your bed, sometimes with a vibrator, sometimes without, trying to reach the same level of orgasm that you had with Roman. Each attempt was futile, and ultimately, a failure. On Friday night after work, you'd decided to go to one of the few bars in town, in hopes that some alcohol would untangle the mess of wires that your nervous system had become.

Still dressed in your silk blouse, tight pencil skirt and heels, it didn't take you long to attract the attention of a guy. You were truthfully thankful for the flirting, and your willingness to chat with him inadvertently turned into a date. He'd bought your first drink, while he nursed his second casually as the conversation naturally progressed. His name was Jacob, he had lived in Hemlock Grove all his life, had a daughter, and worked at the Fire Station. He was handsome, certainly enough to hold a conversation with. He was sweet, you could tell. His fingers brushed against yours delicately as he reached for his glass, sending a shiver up your spine. The way his soft smile curled up on one side, his soft, chocolate button eyes watched you as you spoke...

With a polite smile, you answered his latest question, bouncing one of your patent leather high heels off the tip of your toe. "Oh, I work at the Godfrey Institute."

"Wow." He said, impressed. "The Institute? What's that like?" His expression was one of genuine curiosity, which, to you, was normal. Most people wondered about the massive, ominous structure that overlooked their town. You could hardly blame him, you'd been one of them prior to working there.

You blinked. What was work like? Without warning, your mind's eye was flushed with red and you could almost taste him on your tongue. Roman fucking you over his desk, mercilessly, while the blood dribbled onto your naked body. You thought about the way his cock felt as it pushed into you, the swollen, red tip parting your slick folds. You thought about his hands as they explored you, flesh tasting flesh hungrily and the way that he slipped his long fingers into your mouth, forcing you to suck them, to drink someone else's blood.

"That bad, huh?"

"What?" You blinked again.

"That was way too long of a pause. It's that bad?"

"No! No," you stammered, taking another sip of your drink. "It's not bad at all. It pays well. Good benefits. My boss can just be... a lot to handle."

You had to control your smirk; you handled him just fine. Fighting your own expression, you brought the tiny straw to your mouth and sucked down some liquid.

"Aren't all bosses a lot to handle?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "But Mr. Godfrey is... different."

"Well," he murmured, leaning in closer to you. "He better not be mistreating you. You're too pretty for that."

A demure, gracious smile crossed your lips as he leaned into you, nudging you with his shoulder. It was playful, but held intention, you could feel it. You took another sip of your drink, staring coyly at the ice cubes.

That was when you felt it; the inviting haze. It held a promise of a command, something you'd be compelled to do. Which, at that point, could be anything. Your cunt immediately responded to the familiar sensation, desperate for his attention again. She clenched and you shuddered violently, gasping aloud.

"You okay?" Concern laced his voice.

"Yes, yes, sorry."

Jacob took a swig of his own drink, grinning into it as he did. He thought the reaction was from him, and it gave him a boost of confidence to slip his arm around your hips and pull you close to him.

"I think you're the prettiest woman I've ever seen..." Jacob spoke into the shell of your ear, whispering sweetly. Another shiver erupted at the base of your neck and travelled downwards. His breath was hot, and smelled invitingly like whiskey. For a fleeting moment, you thought about turning your head, brushing your lips against his soft ones. After a week of nothing but iciness, it would’ve been so nice to feel someone against you, wanting you, craving you.

That was until the overwhelming urge to turn around took control of your body, akin to the sensation of feeling someone's eyes on you. Your skin prickled. Panicking, you pivoted your body and searched the faces in the bar, flitting from one to another. None of them were the face you were looking for, none of them held the gaze that you felt.

You spun around to the other side, your hair whipping around your shoulder. Though smoke clouded the bar, you could see him clear as day. He stood at the other end of the bar, elbows propped up on the edge, a scotch glass loosely dangling from his hand. His green eyes seemed to cut through the haze, locking onto you in a troubling grip. He didn't look happy - he looked the way he did before he yelled at someone at the Institute, his chest heaving with drawn out, frustrated breaths.

Masking your nerves, you turned back to your drink, pinched the straw between your thumb and forefinger and flung it behind you, bringing the rim of the glass to your lips. The rest of the liquid flowed down your throat, stinging as it went. It provided no relief to the tightness in your stomach, unfortunately.

"Woah, hey, what's the deal? You okay?" Jacob asked, his hand on your forearm.

"I..." You turned around again, expecting to be caught in Roman's gaze again... but he was gone. That was somehow more unsettling.

"Y/N…"

"Woah, shit. Where'd you come from?" Jacob jumped, his knee bumping into yours.

Your head turned slowly at the sound of his voice. He stood behind Jacob, a polite smile spread across his full lips. To someone who didn't know him, it would be a convincing one. To you, it wasn't. You'd seen him smile condescendingly at someone before ripping into them too many times. There was malice behind it and his eyes confirmed it.

The reaction that your body had to him was embarrassing and honestly unwarranted. It wasn't like you hadn't seen him in a week and a half; you saw him mere hours ago, but his attention hadn't been on you in the way it was now. Your cheeks flushed, your cunt throbbed in your underwear, desperate to feel him again.

"Sorry for interrupting."

Still obviously put off by his sudden appearance, Jacob nodded slowly. "It's... fine..."

"Jacob," you started, flashing a bright, albeit fake smile. "This is my boss... Mr. Godfrey."

Being the obvious gentleman that he was, Jacob stuck his hand out first. It seemed Roman was completely content with tightening his smile and giving the man a nod but after a few painful moments, he finally shook the man's hand.

"Unfortunately, I have to steal her. Very pressing matter at the Institute." Roman’s long fingers wrapped around your bicep, enveloping it. His steel grip hurt, but you didn’t dare say anything.

"Now, wait a minute." Jacob interjected, standing up from the stool.

"Get lost." Roman hissed, stepping forward slightly. "Now."

And just like that, Jacob got up from his seat, put a twenty on the bar and walked towards the door. Feeling the warm stream flowing from his nostril, Roman wiped his nose, the blood collecting on the back of his hand. You stared, dumbfounded. Had Jacob really given up that easily? Or was there something to Roman Godfrey that you hadn't considered? You looked from the door back to your boss, who god – really towered over you.

"What did I say?" Roman asked, sternly.

"Nothing about that." You retorted, shaking your head, your confidence wavering. Though nothing had been exchanged about that, you knew what he meant.

"I told you to..."

"No," you corrected, cutting him off. "You told me not to tell anyone about what we did. I haven't."

"Maybe you need a reminder."

You thought about retorting with something smart, but Roman took a step closer to you, holding his hand up to your face. The smell of iron hit your nose. Instinctively, your tongue flicked out, lapping at the small streak of blood on the back of his hand. As before, the taste of it made you want to gag, but it aroused you all the same.

"Mr. Godfrey," You cooed, looking up at him with doe eyes. "Am I not allowed to enjoy myself on my own time?"

Roman raised his brows, as if to ask if you'd been enjoying yourself. You had been... to a degree. Despite Jacob being nice, you knew that fucking him wouldn't be the same as fucking Roman. It wouldn’t satiate the hunger that pulsed deep within your pussy, he wouldn’t fuck you the same way. That was all he needed; he laughed through his nose. He stiffened above you, somehow elongating even more.

"Your cunt is aching for me, I can smell it."

Fuck. The humiliation had you wanting to whine and throw your body against his, wrapping your arms around his neck like you had a week ago. Writhing, you pressed your thighs together tightly. Roman’s eyes flitted down, watching as you rubbed them together pathetically, desperately trying to alleviate the throbbing sensation.

“What am I supposed to be reminded of? As though I’ve stopped thinking about it.”

“Oh, really?”

You rolled your lips inward and bit down, closing your eyes. He hadn’t even asked you to say that, you’d just done it on your accord. The drink you’d had must’ve been working – at what, you weren’t sure. Humiliating yourself? You took a breath, pacifying yourself.

“Remember what I said about not firing you?” He asked, his voice low.

“What? I’m fired?”

He laughed breathily, rolling his eyes away from you, then back. “No. But if you keep fucking around, I might reconsider.”

“Fucking around?” You asked, shocked, pain darkening your gaze. “I had a drink with a guy! I wasn’t aware that it was off-limits.”

“You’re my personal assistant, remember me saying that? I need you available whenever the fuck I want you available. Not fucking some random guy in a bar.”

Your pussy twinged with heat and the tugging sensation in your stomach worsened. Though he hadn’t said it, his motivations were obvious; he was jealous and he wanted you available for him at all times. Though somewhere, you were sure that you should feel disrespected, you couldn’t find it in yourself to acknowledge it. There was a workplace violation here somewhere. Your tongue darted out, running along your bottom lip teasingly.

Suddenly, you said: “Fine, then. I’m going home.” Partially, it was a test. The thrill of the chase.

“Probably a good idea.” He flashed his brows at you, almost expectantly.

You turned on your heels, allowing your hand to drift behind you just enough to graze Roman’s swelling cock through his perfectly pleated dress pants. You heard him inhale a breath through his teeth, but he didn’t follow you. As you pushed through the door, he was still standing by the bar, watching you.

Outside, the cold night air bit at your cheeks, but you were in the car before the frigidness penetrated too deeply. You tossed your purse onto the passenger seat, retrieved your keys from it, and started the engine. Leave it to him to frustrate you, yet again. Now, not only were you unimaginably horny, but you were unable to get your kicks with anyone else, because God forbid Roman needed something. Fine, if he wanted to play, you’d play. Tomorrow, you devised, you’d be as aloof as he was. Your mood would be a mirror, reflecting whatever his was.

Unbeknownst to you, the cherry-red Jaguar pulled out behind you moments later, gravel crunching underneath the tires. You huffed and reached for the stereo knob, turning it halfway. Music filled the car with a peppy and happy beat – something that didn’t match your mood at all.

As you drove, your peripheral was filled with blackness. Hemlock Grove was dark at night. Really dark. The woods that surrounded the town seemed to go on forever, trees looming up around you like soldiers that guarded the population. Then, there was the issue of the wolves…

You looked in the rearview mirror and squinted, blinded by the headlights of a car – but not just any car. You recognized that car anywhere, having seen it parked at the Institute every day. He was following you awfully close, probably making sure you weren’t trying to lose him. That was the last thing on your mind. In fact, you were silently praying that he followed you all the way home… but, just to test him, you eased your foot into the gas pedal, watching as the speedometer crept higher. For as masterfully as you handled the roads, Roman handled them better. His headlights never left your mirrors.

As you pulled into the driveway of your modest little house, you switched off the music and killed the engine. You glanced at the rearview mirror again, delighted to find that Roman was blocking you in. Though your address was on your resume, he now had a visual of where you lived, and knew how to get there whenever he wanted. You shivered excitedly at the thought. With a smirk slicing your features, you walked around to the back of your car, hands on your hip. Roman was getting out of his car, elongating. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he closed in the distance between the two of you, and his hands gripped your waist tightly, fingers jabbing into the soft flesh. Roughly turning you around, Roman pinned your hips between his and the trunk of your car. Invading your personal space, he urged his back against yours, forcing you downwards.

“Jesus Christ, are you insane? My neighbours will see.”

His expression darkened, as if he was considering doing it anyway. Planting your hands on the trunk, you pushed your back against his chest again but behind you, it was as though he was made of iron. Didn’t move, not even a little bit. Your breath hitched in your throat, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. Fighting against him, you grunted. What was he doing?

“Stop it,” you pleaded, trying to press yourself upwards. “W-we can’t do this out here.”

As if Mother Nature herself wanted to thwart his attempts, the clouds that had loomed, obscuring the moon all night, finally decided to dump. The deluge drenched both of you within seconds, thunder rumbling above. You twisted your body to glance behind you. His perfectly arranged hair was now mussed; dark, dripping strands hanging in front of his forehead. He was staring pointedly at you, burning holes into your skin.

Finally, Roman conceded to your worries – or maybe just didn’t want to get any wetter – and shoved himself off you with an angry, annoyed huff. With a jerk of his head, he encouraged you to move. He followed you up the small pathway, and you’d hardly put the key in the slot before you felt Roman’s body pressing into yours, forcing you inside. You dropped your bag on the small bench by the door, and turned to the looming figure behind you.

“Why are you being so…” your voice trailed off, partially afraid to vocalize what you were going to ask him.

He didn’t answer, again, and instead, his lips found yours, his tongue slipping in past your teeth. He tasted like scotch; warm and seductive. While still kissing you – gentler than he’d ever been – walked you backwards. You were more than happy to blindly let you guide him off a cliff at this point. Abruptly, Roman’s hands met your chest, shoving you hard back against the sofa. It almost punched the breath from your lungs, but you steadied yourself, looking up at him.

“What is your problem?” You furrowed your brows. “Are you really that upset with me? You never told me that I couldn’t have a drink with a guy.”

“Do you not listen? I said I need you available whenever the fuck I want. For whatever the fuck I want.”

Roman kicked your feet apart, the spikes of your heels catching on the fibres of the sheepskin rug below you. Slotting himself in between your thighs, Roman got to his knees, his hands cupping your kneecaps. He harshly pulled your legs apart, the fabric of your skirt gathering at your hips as he did. You were exposed to him, the thin strip of your underwear barely covering you. The smoothness of his chin ghosted along your thigh, his lips grazing the flesh just before he reaches where you want him. It takes everything in your power not to push him between your legs, onto your aching cunt, but somehow, you resisted the urge, and dug your nails into the sofa cushions instead.

He bent his head down, tongue stretching out over his lips and immediately, you felt the hot rush of his breath wash over you, your stomach clenching tightly in anticipation. As the tip of his tongue delved between your folds, you jerked against the soft fabric of your sofa. Your back arched, pressing against the resistance of the cushions. With his mouth still attached to your clit, his bright green eyes flitted to you, brows lifting on his forehead. Long arms unfolded from your legs, reaching up to your breasts like two shadows. His hands cupped them outside of your satin blouse, attempting to thumb your nipple through the layers but quickly decided that it wasn’t good enough. With a quick flash of movement, Roman had ripped your blouse apart for the second time. You bit back a yelp.

As he rolled your nipples between his fingers, pinching them here and there, his eyes drank you in, watching as the shifting shadow pattern of the leaves danced across your bare skin. The storm raged on outside as Roman devoured your insides like one of the supposed wolves in the woods. His tongue flicked quickly at her before he paused to lick a long stripe from your entrance upwards, lingering to drive the tip into your clit. God. The buzzing contact made you scream and writhe and cry. He growled into her as you cried out, never relenting. With pathetic, slutty moans punctuating his every move, you rolled your head back against the sofa, letting your eyes drift shut. Every time he made contact with her, kitten licking and teasing you with intention, you whined. While his tongue stayed busy, one of Roman’s hands drifted away from your hardened nipple, and slithered back down until it found your wet entrance, prodding the slit curiously. Your body convulsed, a desperate whimper falling from your lips. He was going to fuck you. No, he was going to overstimulate you.

He sank his fingers all the way in, to the knuckle, and began pumping his wrist back and forth. Two fingers opened inside you, stretching you out before curling up to hit the sensitive, spongy flesh deep within you. Your nails scraped along the fibres of the sofa cushion, flailing for something to grip onto.

“Oh my fucking god… Oh my god.” Involuntarily, your hips began rolling with his motions, driving his fingers in deeper to you with every thrust.

“Good girl,” Roman muttered, the humming vibrations sending a shockwave through your core.That cold voice with the slight lilt of an accent you couldn’t place – it did something to you. The first warning clench. Oh no. Your pupils dilated at the feeling, your breath quickened. He was going to make you cum, possibly faster than you ever had in your life. You couldn’t remember how many times you’d tried to make yourself orgasm in the past week, but he somehow managed to do it within minutes.

“Fuckfuckfuck, oh my god, I’m gonna’...”

Your breath catches in your throat. And just like that, the sensations were gone. You stammered out some words of displeasure, lifting your head to look up at him. Roman stuck both his glistening fingers in his mouth, suckling them like a greedy child. Your legs were still quivering when he took hold of them, pulling you closer to the edge of the sofa. “Did I say you could cum?”

You panted, feeling frustrated. Your body screamed in agony over the lack of stimulation, and every time you clenched, you felt the hot burn of an orgasm denied.

“Did I?”

“N-no…”

You collapse against the sofa, shuddering. Agony. Nothing but agony. This entire week had been nothing but an edge-fest, and there he was, edging you some more. You felt your expression contort into a frown, tears welling at the corners of your eyes. The sound of his belt buckle brought you back, snapping to attention. You looked down between your legs just in time to see Roman pull his stiff cock free, a bead of precum leaking from the slit. The tip was blushing, and looked hot to the touch. You squeezed your thighs together, sandwiching the head into the pillowy flesh of your thighs – it was.

Roman didn’t give you any time to prepare. Once the tip breached your slit, he sank in until your torsos touched. You gasped, leaning forward in slight discomfort. He paused for a moment, letting your body adjust to the girth.

“So fuckin’ tight.”

He began thrusting, quickly. Repeatedly impaling you with his cock, moving his hips back and forth in half circles, Roman’s movements were controlled, hitting you in a spot that made you cry out with each thrust. You suddenly rasped his name, disrupting his rhythm. It was the first time that you’d called him Roman as opposed to Mr. Godfrey, and the intimacy of the gesture had his cock throbbing within your slick pussy. He leaned forward, clenching his teeth.

“You’re mine, you fucking know that?” His lips moved against your ear as he spoke, sending a violent chill down your spine.

Between laboured pants, you nodded weakly. He did it so well. He did everything so well – without trying – and it had you in pieces. You couldn’t take it back, the feelings that had been roiling inside your system for weeks had been confirmed. Now he knew it, because you acknowledged it. No going back.

“That’s right.” Roman leaned into you, pressing his cock further into you, grinding down into you until you saw stars. As he chased his orgasm, fucking you hard against the sofa cushions, the head of his cock relentlessly pounded your insides – hammered into a part of you that ached. You held onto his shoulders, pressing yourself up against him just to feel the warmth of his skin against your own. Roman pulled you up further, his long arms winding around your back with ease. His cock slipped out from inside you, bobbing against the inside of your thighs, smearing a mixture of arousals on the hot flesh. After a little bit of rearranging, he hoisted you up into his arms and sat down on the sofa, lowering you back down onto his length slowly.

As the muscle clenched around his cock, Roman let out a deep grunt, inhaling through his teeth. The feeling of being so full overtook your systems. You were blanking, unable to speak and barely able to think over the heavy thudding of your own pulse. Roman’s hand finds your neck, gripping it softly. Your pulse hammers against his fingers, and groaning, he bucked his hips up into you just a little bit harder.

“Fuck – I…”

“What? Talk. Use your mouth, or I’ll use it for you.”

With a devilish smirk, you almost considered stuttering again, just to see what he’d do. You moaned. “Feels– feels so good. I wanna’ cum.”

“Yeah? Gonna’ cum all over that cock, you little whore?”

You nodded, using your leg muscles to bounce faster atop his cock. Every time the tip hit your cervix, you winced, but it was an ache that you’d been craving for almost weeks. Gasping, you threw your head back, running your hands up your torso. The skin was feverish, your whole body was on fire, it felt like every inch of exposed skin was engulfed at that point. Roman’s hands clamped onto your hips, lifting you up off his cock slightly. Mouth hanging slack, eyes lust blown, he began thrusting up into your sopping cunt. Faster and harder and over and over and again and again, until you came, screaming into his shoulder.

His own orgasm came shortly after, coating your insides with his blisteringly hot seed. He kept thrusting until your clenching stopped, and the white oozed from your cunt. With a whimper, you rolled off his lap and collapsed into the crook of the sofa. Your chest heaved, sweat dripping down from every place it could.

Roman lifted his hips up to pull his trousers back up, tucking his softening cock into his briefs. He ran a hand through his hair before pushing himself up off the sofa, heading straight for the door. You straightened up, bringing a pillow to your stomach.

“Where are you going?”

Coldly, he said: “I’ll see you tomorrow. Wear a dress.”

The door shut behind him. Tomorrow was Saturday. What did he mean by that? What was his fucking problem? God, you loved it.

#Roman Godfrey #Hemlock Grove #Bill Skarsgard #Bill Skarsgård #roman godfrey x you #roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey x y/n #roman godfrey smut #bill skarsgard smut #fem reader #afab reader #dark smut #myfics

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cruellworrld · 9 months ago

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Still waiting to be his gf

#Roman Godfrey #hemlock grove aesthetic #hemlock grove #bill skarsgård #roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey edit

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erinfern0 · 1 year ago

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paint the sheets red

soft!dom!roman x afab!reader (smut ending with fluff)

- afab anatomy, gender neutral nicknames, only used pronouns are you etc.

summary: roman just craves to help you get through your period, he can't help burying his face between your legs.

warnings: period oral sex (r receiving), praise, somnophilia, blood kink, fingering, use of safe word, spit, edging, mention of aftercare, slight dom/sub dynamic, anxiety, etc

Usually, when you're on your period, you two try to stay away from each other, mostly for your own safety. Being sane, he would never risk so much by being close to you while you were bleeding, and you usually complied. Today was different. Today, you were desperate for his attention. You needed him close to you, to whisper that everything is going to be fine and that those feelings won't last. You were lost in your own head, trying to stay collected while running your hand over your stomach, imagining it was his.

The day was going awful. The cramps had been killing you since you woke up. Not a single pill helped to ease the pain you felt physically. You also suffered mentally from your boyfriend not responding to your texts.

Roman was busy like this usually, answering you only when he had enough time for you or when he just finished his job. You texted him in the morning, describing how bad you felt and how nice would it be if he came around in the evening. Walls of messages filled his phone but he couldn't leave the meeting as he wanted to. You were aware he had responsibilities other than you, which made you feel even worse - you felt like a burden for interrupting him like this. You closed the app and quickly threw your phone against the mattress of your shared bed with a sigh. You crawled up on top of the bed, bringing your knees to your chest as your side, pressing your hand over your warm stomach, trying to ease the pain, quiet curses mumbled under your breath.

Roman looked at his phone, biting his lower lip. You needed him. More than usual, and he wanted to be there for you. He could just leave, he had enough money to ignore the new client, but he knew it wasn't good for the company. He kept bouncing his leg under the desk as the men talked above him. They were asking him questions and he would just mindlessly nod his head, staring at the texts you sent him.

At first, he just thought about the pain you felt, about your loneliness and agony. How much he just wanted to be there with you, cuddling you while whispering how much he loves you. The thought of you flashing over and over in his mind, hand squeezing the phone to force himself not to message you back yet.

But then something else grabbed his attention. he looked over one of the texts and froze. Period. He had read it before and knew the reason behind your pain, but it hit him just now. He couldn't stop thinking about it. Blood. He ran his tongue over his top teeth, feeling how sharp his teeth were, mouth watering just by the idea of you. Sex and thighs covered in the red substance that tasted so damn good. He couldn't shake off the fantasy of bringing his lips to the soft flesh of your inner thighs, tasting you while his hands held your hips down to prevent you from moving too much. His eyes started getting hazy from craving you, scanning the people in front of him as he dug his fingernails deep into his palm.

The men didn't seem to notice how his eyes started slowly darkening in front of them. He had to have you. Now.

He lifted his body off the chair a little too quickly, overwhelmed by the sound and feeling of the blood running in his guests' veins. He felt dizzy, supporting his weight over the desk as he looked up at them. "Gentlemen... I believe I've heard enough" he says. The man who was taking care of the presentation froze mid-slide. "I'll think about your offer and let you know about my decision, give me some time. Thank you for being here" he said, almost politely before grabbing his phone off the desk and rushing to the elevator, loosening the tie just enough to help him breathe.

He texted you he'd be there soon but you were already asleep, trying to fight the pain. Despite how short the ride home was, it felt like hours to him, clenching his jaw, trying to discipline himself as he pulled up to the front yard. He quickly left his car, mind focused on whispering your name over and over like a spell in his head as he walked into the bedroom. He froze as soon as he saw you.

That perfect body curled up on top of the bed in your shots and a t-shirt, but not a regular t-shirt. One of his. He could smell you from the corridor, but now, when he stood in between the door frame the scent of your skin hit his head a little harder. He was obsessed with it. His urges only fueled inside of him as he saw you shift in your position, arms above your head that is slightly tilted, knees bent and shifted to your right just enough to slightly expose your butt from under the shorts, that's when he noticed it.

He could scent it before but he just thought it was because of your pad, now he knows the reason he could smell your blood so easily is because you were just utterly drenched with it. Your underwear, shorts, and the sheets covered with such a beautiful shade of red, he wouldn't even dare to look away.

Eyes focused on you, he starts slowly walking closer to the bed, his hands fiddling with the buttons of his dress shirt just enough to expose his collarbones. Then he quickly takes off his tie and throws it somewhere behind him.

His eyes darken as he slowly spreads your legs, a gasp escaping his lips at the sight of the most incredible meal he's going to ever consume in his life. He cursed under his breath as he saw your face, scrunched with pain. 'poor thing', he thought and kissed one of your knees before slowly kneeling on the bed, brushing his fingertips over your thighs, trying to avoid the blood just yet.

He clenched his jaw, the thought of doing this to you in your sleep was getting him painfully hard in his jeans. He couldn't help but palm himself through them. You've done many things in the bedroom already, including somno, but never when you were covered in that beautiful blood of yours.

He bit his lip as he slowly moved your shorts and underwear down, a pitiful mewl leaving his mouth as he saw how red and slick you were. He rubbed his thumb over the red clots of blood on the material and smiled, throwing it somewhere on the bed. His hands were already covered in the substance as he gripped your thighs, leaving his bloody handprints over you. He just couldn't help himself.

He heard your tiny gasp in your sleep, causing his already throbbing cock to twitch. "Fuck", he cursed under his breath before slowly lowering his mouth to your heated skin, lips traveling over your inner thighs as he tried to remain as sane as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was to harm you, especially when you suffered much already.

He moaned at the taste of you, your sweet and perfect blood on display for him as he licked your inner thigh. His eyes were closed, hips slightly moving against the mattress as he got closer to your core, leaving trails of dark hickeys over your skin, barely visible because of the substance covering them. He gave your cunt a quick kiss before running his lips to your other thigh, doing the same thing over and over until he heard you whimper in your sleep.

"Oh, you like that?" he asked in a whisper, trying to talk to you while you were still unconscious "God, I want to see your eyes on me." he added, mostly to himself as he gave your swollen and sensitive bud a lick, just enough to make your legs twitch.

His fingers started spreading your folds to see the way blood slowly leaked from your hole, a smile appearing on his face as he gave it another lick.

And god, your taste. It was driving him crazy. The metallic, tingling feeling over his tongue sent shivers down his spine, causing him to jerk his hips. He growled against your core, sending pleasurable vibrations in your way. Under the blood, he also tasted something better. Your delicious wetness mixed with it almost drove him insane. He was fighting the urge to just give in, let go of his humanity, and just sink his teeth over your thighs or core, tasting you in a very different way. He regained his sanity as he saw your eyes slowly opening.

"Good morning, sunshine." he whispered right before slowly sliding his flattened tongue over your slit, causing your legs to tighten around his head. Your soft whimpers fill the room. His actions were lewd, almost animalistic, but the way he looked at you made you just spread your legs wider for him, letting him to take the pain away.

Your hands easily found his hair, tugging on it as you arched your back, craving the sweet feeling of him against you again but then you saw it. You froze immediately, seeing his face covered in red, hazed eyes watching your reactions. Then you looked to the side and bit your lip at the view of blood covering his sheets.

"I-I'm so sorry, Roman." you whispered as you tugged on the material. He just let out a grunt, shaking his head slightly. He wiped his face against your bare thigh, making you gasp as you saw the red staining his lips, teeth, and tongue. "I'll get new ones, I..."

"Don't you worry about it, angel." he mutters before kissing one of your hickeys. The way he caressed your skin with his nose made you shiver, embarrassment hitting your face with a blush. "Be good for me and relax, okay? It's all about you now." his voice was low and filled with lust as he left a gentle bite mark over your skin, just enough to let you see it, not to tear through the tissue.

You couldn't help but squirm as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping them close to his face as he looked at you. A silent plea to taste you again, and he didn't hesitate when you nodded your head.

He started running his flat tongue between your folds, collecting anything in his way just to swallow it right up, being careful not to push on your clit too hard. just very light and gentle licks all over you, cleaning you off from the cause of your previous suffering and embarrassment. He chuckled as he saw you reaching under your shirt just to add to the pleasure, but before you touched them you looked down at him. "Yes, you may." he said at your silent question, sucking on your clit slightly.

You gasped and tugged on his hair harder, your other hand quickly running under your shirt, wait, his shirt, teasing your hardened nipples with a hesitant moan.

"Louder, baby." he growled between your thighs and sucked a little harder, leaving your clit with a simple pop. "I want to hear how good you feel."

His words alone make you arch your back to roll your hips over his mouth. Romans eyes flutter with pleasure as he sinks one of his fingers into your drenched hole, spitting on it just to give it some more lube. He moves painfully slowly, just watching your red-covered hole grip his middle digit greedily.

"R-Roman" you gasp, begging for him to go faster. He just placed kisses over your thighs, his finger knuckle deep inside of your cunt as he nods his head.

"I know, sweetheart, I know." he mutters under his breath, leaving a single kiss on your swollen bud. "Just a little more f'me, yeah?" he looks up at you, his eyes filled with unspeakable desire and love towards you as he smiles lazily and picks up the speed, hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you. Now, the blood smeared over his face looks like proof of his obsession with you. "Color?"

"Green." you gasp and close your eyes shut in pleasure, feeling the slow licks of the tip of his tongue over your clit, only adding to the pure bliss you're experiencing.

The sweet and slow torture lasts a couple of minutes, him getting completely lost in your taste, your soft moans, and your begs as he gets you so close to the edge before he stops moving, leaving you aching for more, for that climax that's so painfully close.

He spat on your core again, pulling his finger out before massaging your hole with the new wetness, gasping as his fingers almost get sucked in by your cunt. But he meets resistance, and frustration hits him as he spits again, trying to work two of his fingers into you, but to no avail.

You squirm with desperation and anxiety as you see him try so hard. Your body cannot take more. Seeing him try like this makes you feel so bad. You have no idea if it's because of your period or just general anxiety, but you hold back, trying to relax for him until it's too much.

"Orange, Roman." you whisper, clenching your fingers over the sheets below you, back arching from the uncomfortable feeling, tears pooling under your eyelids. "Orange... I'm so sorry." you repeat with guilt in your shaky voice.

"Too much?" he asks calmly, despite your worries - he's not at all upset. He's so proud of you for using your safe word, he can't even express it with words. "It's okay, sweetheart, don't you apologize for that." he whispers and runs his fingers between your folds, trying to ease the feeling, and you thank him with a couple of nods of your head. "One's good?" he asks and presses his middle finger over your hole, waiting for your answer.

"It's perfect." you whisper and smile, playing with his hair as he slowly moves the digit inside, quickly finding that spot of yours.

"You wanna cum for me?" he asked before sucking on your clit again, this time a little softer. He chuckles when he sees you nod your head mindlessly. "words, sweetheart, use your words."

You can't help yourself from pulling his hair when he finally presses his mouth against you fully, chin adding slight pressure over his finger as he moves his tongue over your clit in various slow patterns. "Yes, fuck, yes I wanna come for you." you whine as you feel the vibration of his low, lustful hum against your core. He starts to move his hips against the mattress again, his neglected cock throbbing in his pants as he moves away from your cunt for a moment.

"Then be good for me and come, okay? You deserve it so much, angel." his words themselves make you shudder with arousal, mind getting dizzy as he presses his lips against you once more, licking and sucking while his finger abuses your g-spot. The hums only add to the sensation, making you tighten your grip on his hair, pulling him even closer as you begin to see stars.

You reach your climax soon enough, your legs tightly wrapped over his head, shivering mindlessly at the overstimulation, back arching as you moan his name like a mantra, turning into putty for him as you come undone. All you hear is his skilled mouth and finger doing wonders on your cunt as he pulls you even closer, fingers of his free hand so deep into the skin of your thigh that you're sure he'll leave bruises, but you don't mind at all.

Ae allows you to roll your hips over him through your orgasm, getting you down from your high with soft praises spoken against your core, lapping his tongue over you just enough to get those few last drops of your cum. You slowly unwrap your legs and lie down with your breath fastened, watching him swallow everything with a satisfied look on his face, eyes moving over your body with adoration as he stands up.

"Aou need anything?" he asks, caressing your thigh with one hand as the other wipes your cum and blood off of him. You get a little scared as you secretly admit to yourself - seeing him like this is a pure eighth wonder.

"Nothing..." you whisper and rest your head on the pillow, one hand in your hair as the other one finds his, playing with his bloody fingers. "Just some rest."

He nods his head and looks down at his clothes, smiling as he sees the mix of your blood, wetness, and his saliva all over the hem of the dress shirt he was wearing. "of course, sweetheart, you did so great f'me, you know?" he looks back at you and presses a single kiss to your hand. "I'll smoke and come back to you, gotta get you cleaned up, okay?" he smiles warmly as you nod your head and slowly leans over you, kneeling right between your spread legs as he presses his forehead against yours. "Feeling better?" he asks, and you smirk at the feeling if his hardness pressed against your bare thigh.

"Mhm, way better, thank you." you whisper and kiss the top of his head. He hums pleasingly at your affection. Exhaustion hits you right after, legs still shaking slowly as you reach for his belt. "What about you, tho?"

He chuckles and breathes in through his nose, taking in your scent as he nuzzles his nose over your neck. "Don't you worry about it." he whispers and gets off of you, wiping his face in his already stained shirt, then taking it off. He palms himself through his jeans and gasps, his eyes locked with yours. "You need some rest, then a shower. I'll get us some food, you want your regular?" he asks, reaching for the back pocket of his pants, getting his phone and cigarettes from it.

You nod your head and smile at him. He smiles at you back. Adoration in his gaze makes your heart flutter. You close your eyes as you cover your face with a pillow, second hand embarrassment hitting you again as you remind yourself of what you two just did.

"Hey, don't you hide that pretty face from me." he chuckles, feeling your eyes following him suit. You never thought that you could love this man any more than before, but there you are, smiling and throwing the pillow on the bed just to see his face for the last time before he leaves to smoke.

masterlist | request info

#roman godfrey #hemlock grove #dom roman godfrey #gn reader #afab reader #smut #dark smut #bill skarsgård #roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey smut #fluff #riri writes

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storiesforallfandoms · 2 months ago

Text

important business ~ roman godfrey;hemlock grove

word count: 2362

request?: no

description: she goes to visit him at work, and he decides her visit requires his undivided attention

pairing: roman godfrey x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, smut (unprotected p in v, oral f receiving, finger fucking, kind of voyeurism?, praise, multiple orgasms)

masterlist (one, two, three)

The sound of stilettos against the tile floors made Roman’s secretary’s ears perk up. There was only one woman who ever came to the Godfrey Institute.

(Y/N) Godfrey was already smiling as she came around the corner. It would look like a friendly smile to anyone else, it’d be friendly to the Institute employees even, if she wasn’t married to the owner of the company. (Y/N) was nice enough, but she had an intimidation to her as well. And Roman loved her so much that he would fire anyone who so much as upset her even a little.

(Y/N) leaned against the desk. “Hey Anne. Is Roman in? I got a text from him asking me to come by the office.”

“He’s in his office on a phone call,” the secretary, Anne, responded. “I can page him to let him know you’re here.”

“No bother. I’ll see myself in.”

Anyone else would be stopped immediately. No one else was allowed to interrupt Roman under any circumstances. But Anne already knew how this was gonna go. Asking to page Roman was only a formality at this point; a rouse of professionalism on both of their parts.

(Y/N) let herself into Roman’s office. He was sat forward, leaning against his desk with the phone in one hand, pressed against his ear. He glanced up as (Y/N) shut the door behind her. His face gave nothing away, but she knew it was his eyes to look at. They lit up the moment she walked into the room.

“Let me call you back, Paul,” Roman said into the phone. “My wife just got here.”

He hung up before hearing the response. (Y/N) raised a playful eyebrow. “I don’t think he’s going to appreciate you cutting him off like that.”

Roman waved away her comment. “Paul is an idiot who doesn’t know jack shit. Listening to him talk makes my brain melt, so I’ll take whatever excuse there is to not talk to him.”

“So, is that why you texted me? To be an excuse?”

“Of course not.”

Roman extended his arms, gesturing for (Y/N) to come closer. She smiled and crossed the room to him. He turned his desk chair to face (Y/N) as she moved around his desk. Roman wasted no time in pulling her onto his lap, moving her legs to straddle him. She was wearing a deep red dress that was knee length and tight to her body. It rode up her thighs as she sat on Roman’s lap, giving him access to cup her ass cheeks.

Roman’s lips found their way to her neck. Her eyes fluttered at the feeling of his soft lips kissing every inch of her neck. He found her sweet spot at the base of her neck, and began to suck at the sensitive skin. (Y/N) let out a moan. She quickly covered her mouth and pushed away from Roman as she remembered herself.

“Rom, we can’t!” she said. “We’re in your office. What if someone walks in?”

“Fuck ‘em. It’s my company. If they have an issue with me fucking my wife, they can start looking for a new job.”

(Y/N) wanted to be firm. It was definitely a bad idea to have sex in Roman’s office, in a building full of his employees who could walk in at any second. But also, it was incredibly hot to see how nonchalant he was being about wanting to fuck her in his office, as well as the general idea of fucking Roman in his office, was turning her on.

He picked her up suddenly, causing her to exclaim in surprise. He kicked the chair away from the desk and shoved anything in his way onto the floor. He placed (Y/N) onto the desk, shoving her dress up so it was bunched around her hips, completely exposing her lower half to him.

(Y/N) and Roman held eye contact as Roman lowered himself to his knees. She watched as he reached out to the intercom that had managed to stay on his desk. He clicked the speaker button and said, “Anne, cancel whatever I have scheduled for the next hour. Anyone comes looking form, I’m busy.”

Anne’s response came almost immediately, “Yes, Mr. Godfrey.”

“She definitely knows what’s happening now,” (Y/N) said.

“I’ll give her a big fat bonus for Christmas.”

Roman hooked a finger into her panties and pulled them to the side. She shivered as his hot breath hit her core. She was about to tell him not to tease her, but it seemed Roman didn’t intend on leaving her waiting for long. He dove into her like a starved man. His tongue immediately dove into her already wet pussy, darting in and out at a pace that was driving her crazy already. (Y/N) gripped Roman’s hair, still a little slick from the hair gel he had put in that morning.

He ran his tongue from her hole up to her clit. He wrapped his lips around the sensitive nub and began to slowly swirl his tongue around it. (Y/N)’s back arched in pleasure. She was biting her lip to try and stifle her moans. She nearly whimpered when he pulled away.

“Don’t you dare muffle those noises,” he told her. “I want the entire building to hear how good I make you feel.”

As if to punctuate his demand, he slipped a finger into her. (Y/N) gasped at the feeling. Roman smirked, satisfied with the noise. He went back to wrapping his lips around her clit while he fucked his finger in and out of her. It was nearly impossible to muffle herself now. To really make sure he got his request, Roman added a second finger and curled them to touch the spongey spot inside (Y/N).

She threw her head back and cried out Roman’s name so loud he was sure the entire floor could hear her. He smirked against her.

The lewd squishing sounds of Roman finger fucking her mixed with her moans filled the room. All of (Y/N)’s concerns about being heard or caught had disappeared completely. All she could think about was Roman; Roman’s tongue on her clit, Roman’s fingers inside of her, how badly she wanted to feel Roman’s dick stretching her out and fucking her ruthlessly.

“Roman,” she moaned. Her fingers curled tighter against his hair, grabbing at the roots and tugging harshly against his dark locks. Roman moaned into her at the feeling. “F-Fuck, I feel so close already.”

“Cum on my fingers then, baby,” he said. “That’s a good girl, let yourself go.”

Her orgasm ripped through her suddenly. She writhed against Roman’s lips, moaning and panting, Roman’s name slipping from her lips. He lapped at her, letting her ride out her high against his face.

When Roman pulled his fingers from her, she actually whimpered at the loss of contact. He stood from the floor, standing over her. He kept eye contact with her as he brought his two fingers to his mouth and sucked them between his lips. The dull ache of post-orgasm between her legs turned into an ache of desire as she watched him suck his fingers clean of her juices. His mouth and chin were still glistening with her.

He pulled her in for a kiss, and she could even taste herself on his lips. It was taking everything in her power not to rip Roman’s pants off right then and there.

As if reading her mind, Roman pulled away and started to unbuckle his belt. “Turn around and bend over the desk. Take your panties off, too, but leave the dress on.”

(Y/N) quickly did as he demanded. She slid her soaked panties down her legs and tossed them aside onto the office floor. She turned so her back was to Roman and bent herself over his desk, presenting herself to him. She heard the rustling of clothes as he undid his pants and pulled them down. Her heart was pounding with anticipation. She jumped when she felt one of his hands against her hip, then moaned upon feeling the hot head of his cock swiping through her folds. They hardly needed any further lubrication when she was already so wet.

He pushed into her at an agonizingly slow pace. She could feel every inch of him as she stretched out around him, until finally he was completely filling her. (Y/N) moaned at the feeling. Roman reached for one of her hands, intertwining their fingers together. It was a moment of sweetness before she knew what was to come.

Roman gave her just enough time to adjust to being stretched around him before he was ruthlessly pounding into her. The sound of his fingers inside of her had been replaced skin slapping against skin every time he thrusted inwards. With one hand, (Y/N) was still gripping onto Roman’s hand, while the other one was holding onto his desk for support. Not that she thought the desk was going to give much support since it felt like it was about to fall apart at any moment.

Through the haze of lust, (Y/N) managed to giggle at the thought. It was replaced quickly by a gasp when Roman’s other hand found its way to her hair and roughly pulled her off of the desk.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, still roughly fucking into her.

“I-I was thinking about if w-we broke your desk,” she admitted. “It sounds and feels like it may just collapse from under me.”

Roman chuckled at the thought as well. “I guess I’ll just have to get a new, better built desk that can handle just how rough I like to fuck my wife.”

He pushed her back down so that her chest was pressed against the desk again. He put his hand between her shoulder blades, holding her into place. He looked down to watch himself pull out then disappear completely into her. Her ass jiggled every time his pelvic bone met her there. She felt so good, so warm and wet wrapped around him, fitting perfectly around his cock.

There were many things Roman loved about his wife, and one of the top things was how it felt like she was made for him.

The sounds she was making was music to his ears. The feeling of her wrapped around him was heavenly. He never wanted to stop fucking her. If he had a choice - and didn’t have a company to run - he’d spend his days home with her, fucking her in every room of their house, on every surface, until they were both worn.

Roman felt his high creeping up on him. He brushed (Y/N)’s hair off of her face so he could see her. She was positively fucked out, her eyes glazing over with haze and her mouth just hanging open.

“Do you think you can give me one more, baby?” he asked her. “I’m getting close. I want us to cum together.”

She lazily nodded her head. He chuckled. “Do you think you can do it, or do you want my help?”

“No,” she said. “I can do it.”

The hand that wasn’t still holding Roman’s reached between her legs to start rubbing circles into her clit. She could feel him as she pressed on her clit, almost like she was tightening around him. It wasn’t going to take much to make her cum again, but she still quickened her pace so that Roman wasn’t waiting long. Next thing she knew, pressure was building up in her stomach again.

“I’m close,” she breathed.

“Hold on, baby, I’ll tell you when.”

Roman took hold of her hip with one hand, never letting go of her other hand, and thrusted harder. (Y/N) was crying out in pleasure at the feeling of him abusing her g-spot. Through gritted teeth he told her, “Now.”

They let go at the same time, (Y/N) pulsing around him as he coated her walls. He buried himself completely inside of her, making sure not a single drop was wasted. (Y/N) laid her head against the hard wood of Roman’s desk, trying to regulate her breathing.

It wasn’t long before Roman, begrudgingly, had to slip himself from her. He helped her to stand up from the table, although her legs were still shaky. He took her into his arms and brought her to the couch he had in his office so they could both sit down. (Y/N) settled back into Roman’s arms and rested against his chest.

“So this is why you texted me,” she said after a few moments of silence. “So we could fuck in your office.”

His chest vibrated as he laughed. “Can a man not ask to see his wife just because he wants to see her?”

“He can, but the second I walked through the door you were all over me.”

“Can you blame me when you walk in wearing this - “ He pulled at the hem of her dress, which she had almost forgot she was wearing. “ - looking so fucking sexy?”

She giggled as she snuggled further into his chest. “I guess it is partially my fault. Especially when my plan was to walk in here and get your attention dressed like this.”

“You always have my attention. This definitely helped though.”

They both laughed. Roman kissed the top of (Y/N)’s head. She moved so she was facing him and could kiss his lips.

“How much time do you think we have?” she asked him. “Since you asked Anne to clear your schedule for an hour.”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. It definitely hasn’t been a full hour.”

“Well, let’s use the rest of that time wisely.”

Before he could ask what she meant, (Y/N) was moving to the floor to kneel between Roman’s legs. He smiled, putting his hands behind his head as he watched her pull his still unbuttoned pants down again.

Oh yeah, I am the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey imagine #roman godfrey smut #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard smut #hemlock grove #imagine #one shot #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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nyxvuxoa-writes · 1 year ago

Note

Hello, my love... so okay... yes... would you kindly do.... Prompt #176. “I’m going to fuck you against the windows, i want everyone to see how good you are.” This prompt is for Roman Godfrey...

👉👈Thank you 👉👈

Imma go hide in a dark corner now...

Excited to finally write something for you that is tailored for you and not having you just appeal to my obsessions. I hope you like this.

𝑨 𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝑽𝒊𝒆𝒘

Roman Godfrey x Fem!Reader

#176. “I’m going to fuck you against the windows, i want everyone to see how good you are.”

◢ Genre: A touch of fluff, Kink, Smut ---- Suitable For Adults Only

◢ Warnings: PWP, dom!Roman, submissive!reader, exhibitionism, sort of window fetish, sort of public sex(?), some spanking, unprotected sex, p in v, sex from behind, hair pulling, biting, creampie, sexy time talk. slight praise kink, begging, mention of aftercare.

◢ Word Count: 2.6k

◢ A/N: Okay, so I have never written for Roman before, but I feel this will be pretty straightforward. I hope it hits all the right spots.

You have become accustom to how your relationship with Roman had grown. There was a sort of mutual understanding on how things are with him. He is in charge, and you had a 'place' to be in, for lack of better terms. In some small way you had control, but not in the normal sense of things; you had the control that a submissive in a bdsm relationship would have it.

This is your relationship with Roman. You are his submissive and he is your master. But when you are asked to strip down and stand in front of floor to ceiling windows, you hesitate slightly. Your eyes gaze to the window, watching as people walk past it. You would feel and be rather exposed to anyone who had possible wondering eyes.

After a moment though, and wanting to avoid correction, you slowly manage to strip down to nothing. Kicking your clothes to side, you look down at them like you had just lost your security blanket. Instinctually you want to cover yourself with your arms. It was natural for you to keep yourself covered, feeling rather unconfident, but you knew he would correct you. A part of you hated it.

Slowly you take in a deep breath through your nose, your fingers pressing into the palm of you hand. Roman was always one to push those boundaries with you. He like getting you to try something new, even if it made you a little scared or uncomfortable. He damn well knew this was going to make you uncomfortable. A part of him questioned if you would need to use your safe word. He hoped not.

Walking around you like an animal observing a cornered prey, he couldn't help but smirk slightly, a small chuckle escaping him. His finger reach over and the tips of them so gently graze your skin, moving from the side of your thigh and up around your body as he walked back around to stand in front of you. He fingers come to your nipple and he pinches and pulls at it slightly.

You tense a bit, feeling a small bit of pain. For a moment your lips push out and your brow furrows, almost as if you are pouting at him for doing that to you. At least he knows that he has your attention. You're focused and not zoned out, or withdrawing too much into yourself. This was going to be a big step for you.

“I’m going to fuck you against the windows, I want everyone to see how good you are.” He states, cutting straight to the point for the reason he had you here right now.

Your eyes go wide. "What?"

"I'm going to fuck you against the windows." He repeated, his tone slowing down slightly as he is allowing the sentence to sink into your brain for a moment. He licks at his lips as his hands reach up and he starts to take off his suit coat, laying it over the couch. He doesn't opt to take off his shirt, instead he loosens the tie and rolls up his sleeves to expose his forearms.

You could have used your safeword at that moment. You could have stopped him dead in his tracks and kept it from happening. The choice was right there and for a moment you considered it. But at the same time, there was something appealing about the idea. How many people would notice? How many people could stop to watch to see what was going on in the window.

Watching as Roman turned around and slid his hands into his pockets, watching you closely, you could feel as your heart started to pound in your chest. This wasn't how you were expecting your night to go. It was scary, but exciting. A small part of you remembered that you could stop this at any point if it became too much, and you mentally reminded yourself of that.

Letting your body relax, you looked at Roman with a small smile before you nodded your head, giving him that sort of consent that you were going to give it a shot. Roman smiles slightly, approaching you to cup your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to gaze up at him. He leans in and kisses you, pressing his lips roughly against yours before he spins you around to the window.

Gripping your arms, he brings your hands up to the window and presses your palms against it as he bends you over slightly. His hands move to your hips and he brings your hips out slightly, bringing you to that perfect level for him. His hand move gently over your lower back, grazing against your ass as he gently grips at your left cheek, his fingers pressing for a moment before brings his hand up and smacks it down against your flesh.

You tense and jump slightly. You had been expecting the motion, but it still had caught you off guard. This only caused your heart to pound in your chest a little more. Why did you have to face the window? Couldn't he have just lifted you up and pressed you against it? By his logic, sure, and maybe at some point he will. But this way people could see the faces you make as he presses his cock into the dewy folds between your legs. Bonus points if there happened to be an ex that walked by at that moment, but he doubt he would get that lucky.

A small chuckle escapes him as he steps back and takes a moment to observe you and the people that were already glancing into the window. This was going to be satisfying. His jaw clenches slightly, feeling himself starting to quickly stiffen in the restricting fabric of his pants. He starts to undo his belt, a sound that causes your ears to hyper-tune into it with clashing of the metal buckle. But he doesn't take it off, he simply starts to unbutton his pants, letting them drop just enough with his briefs to free his growing erect self.

Keeping his erect self in one hand, he reaches forward wit the other and bring his fingers to graze against your lower lips. Roman can feel the dampness spread as he presses his fingers into the folds slightly and runs them against your clit. This causes you to lift your hips slightly, a wave of excitement rushing over you with that feeling of anticipation and being nervous. It was a lot to feel at once and it caused goosebumps against your skin.

His finger press into your hole, as if he was preparing you to be ready for what would come right after them. He slowly pushes them deeply, reaching the full length of the fingers and starts to do a back and forth motion. You moan softly, your legs spreading a little bit as your juices start to coat them. Feeling satisfied with how wet you are becoming, Roman removes his fingers from you and positions himself behind you.

For a moment, your eyes glance up at the window and you can somewhat make out your reflections in it. Your lips part in a heavy breath as you watch, your vision going from his reflection and the people outside. A few stood by to watch, acting as though they were just leaning against something. Others simply shook their heads and walked on. This caused your heart to race further. Could you get in trouble for this? Technically speaking, yes.

Your toes curl slightly against the floor as you feel the head of Roman's cock pressing against your hole and then slowly sliding into you. He lets out a heavy groan, his hands quickly moving to your hips as he grips on and presses his entire length deeply into you. Your body grips at him, taking him deeply as your muscles felt around him slightly, almost as if to pull him in deeper.

Your slow moan and gasp for air felt louder than you intended, as if it bounced off the window in front of you and back at you. Your suck in your stomach a moment, feeling you body tense as his motions start in. First he moved slowly, bringing himself back to tip before he pressed his length into you again. He relished in the moment of how you felt around him. He was the reason you were tight. He was the reason you were wet. That is a satisfying feeling to him.

His hands travel against your body, moving from your hips up your side and resting against your ribs. For a moment his fingers dig into you, sending a little pain to mix with the feeling of pleasure, and that causes you to moan a little louder and press your hips back into his. When your ass met his somewhat open pants and flesh, he groaned, tensing slightly. You were letting that wall down, exploring something new, and he was eating it up.

Roman starts to pick up his pace as he grips at your ribs, allowing for just slightly quicker motions into your wet fold. He keeps himself buried a little more, no longer letting you feel the full length, but instead letting you feel the slightly faster, forceful nature of his hips. His breathing starts to pick up as he hears your moans and for a moment he leans forward slightly.

One hand reaches forward, gripping at your breast. He squeezes it in his hand as he presses his entire length into you, holding it for a moment as he allows his hand to fondle with your chest. His lips start to wonder against your shoulder-blade, kissing at your skin with a sense of passion. It hadn't been just a moment into hearing you moan more that Roman starts his motions again, pumping his hips into you.

"You feel so good." He mutters. "So wet. So tight. Are you my good girl?" He asks, while still leaning over slightly against your back.

You nod quickly, moaning and breathing heavily. You had forgotten what your hands were pressed against, the feeling of the glass more slick under your palms with sweat. He smirks against your skin slightly as he presses his teeth into your shoulder, biting at you a little, as his motions become more rough. Screaming out, your head drops a little more as your body tense out in both pain and pleasure.

Roman comes from the bite, lifting his lips and teeth off your shoulder-blade to see deeply purple markings and a faint bruise already starting to form. What's his, is his and he has no issues with marking his girl. Feeling pleased with himself, his cock twitches and hardens a little more inside you, which causes him to bring his hands back to your waist.

He started to give rougher, more forceful thrusts into you. Groaning and moaning loudly with you. The occasional fuck or oh god leaving someone's lips in a breathy moaned tone. The louder you became the rougher his motions started to get. Eventually, Roman's hands were in your hair and he was pulling on it. He pulled you back slightly, arching your back a bit, as his knees bent just enough to give himself a different angle.

He pressed himself into deeply, finding that right length to insert that would hit your sweet spot. He causes your legs to shake, trembling under you and you feel like your about to give way and lose your self of balance. He knew what that leg shaking meant, that tremble that ran through your body was something he had memorized. He learned how to work you, to help you achieve the finish that you craved from from.

"Good girl. My wonderful girl. Does that feel good?" He ask. "Y-yes Sir." You stammer, your fingers and palms red from how hard you were pressing them into the window. "Would you like to cum baby?" He coos at you, pressing his length in deeply as he says the word cum.

You moan and nod, hoping that he doesn't ask you to beg for it. But it was instinct, and before he could even say it, you were already begging for that sweet release.

"Please, can I cum? Please? I'm right there." You manage to get out between moans and heaving breaths. Roman looks amused, and rather proud of you.

"Ask me again." He mutters, almost growling as he's trying to contain his own moans for just a moment.

"Please. May I cum? Please let me cum." You insist. "Alright. Cum baby. Make a mess for me." He says, as both his hands go to grip at your sides.

You start to take some sort of small control as you rock your body back and forth a moment, starting to bounce yourself against Roman's length. He doesn't stop you and you cause his body to tense and the pressure to build more and more. "Oh fuck..." He manages to mutter. "Don't stop baby. Keep going. Keep going." He says, almost begging you. "You've got me right there baby."

You pick up the pace, feeling that release right on the edge there. And as he speaks, that begging and slightly needy tone coming from him, you find yourself trembling with a finish. Feeling like electricity was moving from head to toe, your body tenses and you start to have a heavy tremble work it's way through you. You cry out, moaning loudly as you keep yourself bouncing back and forth against him.

The feeling of your finish drove him. The way you tightened around him and moved against his length with desire and need, worked him to release that finish. He let go, his own legs trembling slightly as his fingers press into your skin. At first his head hung back in a moan before it drops down and he starts to give you short, hard thrusts, making sure to coat your insides with his seed.

For a moment, you both stood there, allowing yourselves to come down from the moment. He couldn't help but chuckle, feeling as you press back once more against him. Roman gives a small thwack at your ass and another grip at it for good measure, before he slowly pulls himself from you. It feels like you have lost your sense of legs, they shake under you with a heavy tremble and you wonder if you are even able to walk right now.

Roman smiles, helping you a moment as he turns you back to him and wraps his arms around your waist. His lips met yours and he kisses you deeply before pulling from it, allowing himself a moment to simply look at your features. This man adores you, with every fiber of his being.

"I'm proud of you." He comments. "Why?" You ask quietly, gazing up at him. "You didn't need to use your safe word. You went with it." He tells you honestly before he kisses you again. "How about we get you into a hot bath and I order some food?" He suggests, reaching up to touch the side of your face. You smile at him, feeling almost shy about being praised, but it felt good at the same time. Hearing that you have done good, that you have made him proud, it sort of drives you. It keeps you going. It gives you the motivation to care.

"A bath sound good." You state. It wasn't always easy to let someone take care of you, but right now, it felt right. It was going to be a good night and everything in your body told you that. Roman didn't hesitate, he takes your hand and helps you to the bathroom, making sure that you have fresh clothes and a big, clean, fluffy towel to dry off with. You are a good girl, and he was going to make sure you know it. After all, he's not the type of man to slack.

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delicateflowerss · 7 months ago

Note

could you write a fanfic with roman godfrey with the prompt 6 and 14?

AFTER DARK

When you start to have strange nightmares that result in waking up with bruises, you worry something sinister is going on. Could it have anything to do with your charming new next-door neighbor, Roman Godfrey?

Warnings: 18+, DUB-CON, blood drinking, pain kink, blood kink, compulsion, lying, manipulation

Word Count: 4.1k

A high-pitched noise reaches your ears. It sounds distant and through the cloudiness of your mind, you wouldn’t think that it fell from your own lips.

You feel yourself squirm underneath the weight on top of you. The room is too dark for you to see the face of the figure above you. The only light in the room comes from the full moon in the night sky, shining through the window.

You hear another noise as you feel the man roughly thrust into you. Pleasure licks at you like fire, warming your skin. The feeling of the unknown man’s fingers on your thigh is ice cold compared to the searing heat of your skin. His face is turned away from you, his eyes focused on his own movements.

He continues his steady pace and for some reason all you can do is lie there and take it. Your mind only focuses on what you feel.

As he drives into you again, he moves his head to look at you. And through the moonlight, all you can make out are his green eyes.

That is until you drag your eyes further down his face, finding blood staining his lips.

Fear and disgust swirl around in your stomach while your pleasure persists.

Before you can react, you watch his lips curve into a smirk.

You want to scream but instead you awake in a sunlit room.

You look around, finding the familiar surroundings of your bedroom. You sigh as you lie back down, your head hitting the pillow.

It was only a dream.

Usually, you wouldn’t be bothered by a strange erotic nightmare. You would possibly just see it as your subconscious telling yourself that you need to get laid.

But this is the third time in the last couple of weeks that you had the same dream.

And you wish that’s where it stopped being weird.

Somehow every time you have this dream, you wake up with bruises.

Even now, you can feel the tender spots covering your skin. You run your fingers over your wrists and your neck, the places where you normally find them. But you’ve also found them in other places, like on your thighs and breasts.

The spots are sensitive for days, too painful to touch. You don’t think you’ve even completely healed since the last dream.

The first couple times it happened, you chalked it up to coincidence and that the bruises and the nightmares weren’t connected.

But now you’re not so sure.

Before you can think about it for too long, your eyes catch the time on your alarm clock. Your eyes widen before you jump out of bed, hurrying to get ready so you’re not late for work.

You stumble out of your house, unsteadily locking your front door as you try to balance your purse and coffee cup in your other hand.

Once you succeed, you walk to your car. But on your way, you notice your neighbor is also leaving for work.

You can’t help but stare at him, hoping for him to notice you and be the first one to acknowledge the other.

He looks serious, his forehead creased with either stress or annoyance, you can’t really tell. But as he runs a hand through his hair, he sees you. Suddenly, his forehead smooths out and a smile traces his lips.

Your houses aren’t close enough together for you to say anything, so you return the smile and give him a wave.

All he does is wink at you before getting into his car.

It’s enough for you to start feeling warmth in your face.

You find it slightly embarrassing, having a schoolgirl crush on your next-door neighbor.

But ever since he moved in a month ago, you look forward to running into him.

He introduced himself when he moved in, and you’ve spoken to him a couple of times since.

His name is Roman Godfrey, he isn’t new to Hemlock Grove, just needed a new place to live. You somewhat hoped that he had been new to town, so you didn’t feel like the outsider anymore.

You’ve only been in Hemlock Grove for about a year and although the town is small, you still feel like you have to beg people to be a part of their lives.

At least you have Kristen.

She was the first and maybe only real friend you’ve made since you moved. You met her through work since you both are accountants at the bank.

Not the most fun job, but it helps you pay for your nice house.

You turn the faucet on, washing your hands under the running water.

Somehow you weren’t late to work but you’ve been busy since you got there. Going to the restroom is the first break you’ve had all day.

You hear a toilet flush and heels clicking toward you.

Kristen does the same as you, washing her hands under the warm water.

“I could not get Mrs. Howard off the phone earlier,” she groans.

“I don’t know. I feel kind of bad for her. She’s obviously lonely since her husband died,” you reply, turning the faucet off and grabbing a paper towel.

“Yeah,” she agrees apathetically. “But doesn’t she have a grandkid she can talk to about what litter is best for her cats?”

You just laugh as Kristen dries off her hands.

“We still going out tonight?” she asks, looking at you.

You sigh, thinking about how you agreed last week to go out drinking with her. But with everything going on, you don’t think you’re in the same mood that you were in when you said yes.

Before you can say anything, Kristen has already read your mind.

“Don’t back out on me now,” she says with a disappointed look on her face.

“I know, it’s just-.”

“Just what?” she interrupts. “You don’t want to have fun anymore?” she asks in a slightly joking manner.

You hesitate for a moment before saying, “I have a lot on my mind right now.”

“Drinking usually makes me not have anything on my mind.”

She raises her eyebrows, hoping to have gotten her point across.

You realize that she isn’t going to drop it.

You finally give in, “fine let’s go out.”

“You’ll have fun, I promise,” she says with a smile.

You match her expression until she looks down at her watch, her face falling.

“I should go. I have an appointment in a few minutes.”

She walks toward the bathroom door.

“I’ll see you at eight,” she enthusiastically says before leaving.

You still have a few minutes until your break is up, so you decide to take a moment for yourself.

You look in the mirror and you hope that everyone else doesn’t see how tired you look. You sigh, looking down for a moment before moving your eyes back to the mirror.

A small gasp leaves your mouth as you see a dark figure in the mirror, looming behind you.

You immediately turn around to see who it is, but your wide eyes find an empty bathroom with no one behind you.

You look back to the mirror to still find a wall lined with nothing but tile and a hand dryer.

You can barely hear yourself think over the ear-splitting music playing in the bar. You almost wish you and Kristen went out to a quieter bar where you could actually have a conversation. But as you look over to your friend, you understand that’s not what she wanted to do tonight.

She sways her hips to the music playing and you notice a man starting to approach her. You can’t help but grimace and take a gulp of the cocktail in your hand.

You wanted to have a good time, get your mind off the bizarre things happening to you. But it’s hard when you worry that you’re losing your mind.

When the man who’s been staring at Kristen finally starts talking to her, you wonder if you should just leave. At least you could tell her you tried to have fun.

But when you awkwardly look away from the flirting happening in front of you, your eyes find a familiar figure sitting at the bar.

You see his profile as he downs the rest of his whiskey, setting down the empty glass in front of him.

Before you can look away, Roman turns his head, his eyes finding yours. Your breath catches in your throat when you get caught.

You think he’ll turn away or possibly wave at you. Instead, he just continues to stare at you.

He’s bathed in a blood red light coming from his surroundings and your lips part, confused at the interaction. But for an unknown reason, you can’t look away from him.

There’s something about his gaze that is alluring, like he’s calling to you in some sort of way.

But there’s also something about his green eyes that sends a shiver down your spine, like it triggers some buried repulsion you have for him.

All of a sudden you feel dirty, like he’s undressing you in his mind.

Not able to take the heat of his gaze anymore, you look away, feeling like you’ve broken free from the spell you were under.

After a few moments, you look from the corner of your eye to where he’s sitting. But you’re left confused when you find that he isn’t there.

You scan the bar, searching for him. Unsure if you’re disappointed or relieved, you leave your glass on a nearby table and grab your purse.

You decide you’ll text Kristen that you’ve left since she’s now dancing with the man she met.

You make your way through the crowds of people around you, trying to get to the exit. Until you bump into a tall man in front of you.

When you look up to apologize, the words get stuck in your throat.

“Sorry, you alright?” Roman asks, his brow furrowed with worry.

His large hand finds your arm, fingers gently holding on to you in an effort to show he cares, keeping the two of you close together in the sea of people surrounding you.

Normally, the gesture would give you butterflies but just the slightest touch on the bruises that decorate your wrist is enough to give you pain.

Your face twists up at the feeling and he quickly notices. His slender fingers move away from your wrist.

But he still holds your arm up, looking closely at your skin.

You wish you could’ve pretended it didn’t hurt so you don’t have to deal with his questions.

He lightly swipes his thumb over your wrist, and it still hurts enough for it to be uncomfortable. But he doesn’t notice, completely focused on your bruises.

“How did this happen?” he finally asks.

You shake your head, having no idea how to respond.

You move your arm out of his grasp, surprising him.

“I’m just clumsy. I bump into a lot of things,” you explain, not meeting his gaze. “I bumped into you,” you finish, finally meeting his eyes again.

He doesn’t respond, just looking at you for a moment and you worry that your lie was too obvious.

Then he smiles.

Another moment passes before he speaks.

“Do you come here a lot? This doesn’t seem like your kind of place,” he notes.

“Only when my friend wants me to come.”

“Where is your friend?”

“She met some guy. I think she’s still dancing with him.” You gesture behind you as Roman scans the crowd.

“She ditched you?” he asks, shock tracing his tone.

“Not exactly,” you say, trying to defend your friend. “I wasn’t really in the mood to go out tonight anyway.”

“Really? What were you in the mood for?”

He keeps a straight face even if his question could imply many different things. You laugh, unsure of how to answer that.

“You got a boyfriend you would rather be with?”

His question comes out of nowhere and you’re taken aback.

“No. No boyfriend,” you sheepishly reply, eyes finding the floor.

“Oh,” he says before continuing, “well, I would say that’s too bad. But I think that works out in my favor.”

You finally find his eyes again and you see that he’s staring at you like he was earlier at the bar.

“Why is it in your favor?” you ask, curiosity lighting up your eyes.

He smirks, but only for a second, like he has an inside joke with himself.

“Why don’t you tell me what you would have rather been doing tonight and maybe I can make your dream come true.”

You stare at your computer screen, trying to focus on the words and numbers in front of you but you find it nearly impossible.

All you can think about is how you had another nightmare last night. You woke up with your heart racing, the same scenario that usually plays out happening again. You couldn’t help the tears that ran down your face when you felt more bruises.

You just don’t understand. How is this happening?

But now there’s something else.

Your blood ran cold when you saw the bite marks embedded in your skin. You don’t think you’ve ever noticed something like that before.

You wanted to call in sick to work but you had appointments you couldn’t cancel.

Drowning in your thoughts, you don’t hear the footsteps coming toward you.

“Hey,” calls out Kristen, startling you when you hear her voice.

You can’t help but gasp when you see her at your desk.

She laughs at your reaction.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. You hungover or something?”

“What? No.” You shake your head like you’re offended she would suggest that. “I didn’t drink that much last night.”

“Okay,” she says, sounding unconvinced. “But you had fun, right?”

When you don’t say anything, she continues with a grin on her face, “I saw you leave with that guy.”

You look at her, your brow furrowing at her words.

“What guy? I didn’t leave with a guy last night.” Panic seeps into your voice.

Kristen stands up straighter at the tone of your voice.

“Yes, you did. I saw you.”

“What did he look like?”

“I don’t know. It was dark.”

“How do you know it was me leaving with him then?”

“Cause I know what you look like,” she says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Are you being serious right now? Maybe you drank more than you thought.”

You stare at her, taking note of the seriousness on her face. You don’t normally see Kristen with that kind of expression.

“Maybe,” you simply reply, deciding to concede.

She nods and you can tell she’s unsure of what to say.

Before she can say anything else Mr. Smith, your boss, walks by and gives Kristen a glare. Probably because she shouldn’t be at your desk unless it’s work related.

She notices, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

“I guess I should go,” she says. “But I’ll talk to you later.”

You can hear the traces of worry in her voice before she walks away.

You can’t tell what is real and what isn’t anymore. You don’t remember talking to any guy last night. You saw Kristen dancing and then left, going home and going to sleep.

You look at your wrist, the bite mark on it is still slightly red.

Maybe something did happen last night.

As you park in your driveway, you’re not sure if you’re happy to be home or if you’re already dreading the moment your head hits the pillow, not knowing what’s going to happen to you.

You’re not sure if being alone in your empty house is what’s going to make you feel safe.

You fumble with your keys, trying to find the one that goes to your house. But they end up slipping from your fingers, falling onto the ground.

As you go to pick them up, someone else’s hand reaches for them at the same time, grabbing them before you.

When you stand upright, you find your neighbor, Roman, holding your keys out for you.

“Thanks,” you say, not being able to meet his eyes as you grab your keys from him, your fingers brushing against his.

“It’s no problem,” he says, his hand smoothing out the brown strands of hair on his head. “How have you been? You seem…”

He trails off, looking you up and down, eyes slightly squinted.

You pull your jacket tighter around you, a chill breeze cutting right through you.

You’re not sure what to say, feeling scrutinized by a man you care about what he thinks of you.

“I’m fine,” you finally answer.

“Good,” is all he says, his eyes settling on yours.

You’ve always found his stare to be…peculiar. A sort of strangeness that hides something darker. But you also find it electrifying.

You part your lips, trying to think of the right words.

“Can I ask you something?”

He just looks at you, waiting for you to continue.

“Did you see me come home last night?”

He thinks for a moment, confusion passing over his face.

“No, I actually wasn’t home last night.”

“Oh,” you say, looking away.

For a split second, you wonder where he could have been. Does he have a girlfriend?

“Why are you asking?”

His brow is furrowed as he waits for your answer.

“It’s nothing. I just…” you hesitantly begin. “So, you didn’t see anyone else’s car here? Maybe this morning.”

“No,” he answers, the same confusion lacing his tone. “What is this about?”

“I think I just drank too much last night. My friend thinks she saw me leave with someone, but I think she must have been mistaken,” you explain. But once you do, you quickly regret everything you just said. “Sorry, this is embarrassing. I shouldn’t have asked you.”

“No, no. It’s fine,” he quickly tries to soothe you. “So, you didn’t leave with anyone?”

You consider telling him the whole truth about everything that’s been going on. But you know that would scare him off and you don’t want to do that.

“No,” you merely say.

Roman slowly nods, taking in what you said.

“So, I’m guessing this means you don’t have a boyfriend?”

You just shake your head as you see a flash of his smile.

“Good. Because I actually came over here to see if you would want to do something tomorrow night.” He phrases it more like a statement instead of a question, like he already knows what your answer is going to be.

You can feel excitement rising in your chest, smiling at his proposition.

“I would love that.” You look at your front door for a second before looking back at him. “Why don’t you come over for dinner?”

He returns your smile.

“That sounds great. I’ll see you at seven,” he says before walking away.

The doorbell rings throughout the house, alarming you to the man who’s standing on your front porch.

You step away from the boiling water on the stove to let him in.

For the last day, you’ve gone crazy trying to make everything perfect for Roman. From what you’re going to cook for dinner to what bra you’re wearing under your dress.

You try to calm your nerves before you open the front door. You don’t want to seem nervous.

But just from the simple greetings and Roman stepping into your house, you’re not sure if you’re going to be able to keep it together.

“I’m still cooking dinner,” you tell him “So, I hope you can wait to eat.”

“I can be patient,” he says, a smirk ghosting his pink lips.

You lead him into the kitchen and offer him a glass of wine. When he offers to pour it for you two, you’re surprised when he knows exactly where the glasses are, without you having to tell him.

But you brush it off as Roman hands you the glass, winking at you.

He keeps the conversation going and it’s like he knows all the right things to say.

Even if it’s easy to talk to Roman, you still feel nervous, worried you’re going to say the wrong thing. You feel like your heart could beat out of your chest.

You begin chopping a zucchini. But with your nerves and trying to focus on two things at once, the knife in your hand slips and crimson starts seeping out of the wound on your finger.

You gasp in pain, holding up your bleeding finger.

As Roman steps toward you, you think he’s going to rush to help you, asking where you keep the first-aid kit. But instead, he just stands there, his eyes stuck on the blood dripping from your finger.

Before you can walk away to start cleaning up your cut, he grabs your hand.

“Roman?”

Before you can do anything, he puts your finger into his mouth, licking the blood away.

All you can do is watch in horror before he takes your finger out of his mouth, licking the remnants off his plump lips.

He keeps a tight hold on your wrist, the pain from your bruises finally registering with you.

His eyes find yours again, like he just realized that you’ve been watching the entire time.

He steps even closer to you, and you try to back away from him. But with his hold on you, it’s difficult.

“I’m kind of glad you hurt yourself,” he starts, eyeing you like a predator would eye its prey. “Now we can skip dinner and get to the real reason why I’m here.”

You stare at him in confusion and shock. You don’t know what to say, still trying to understand what Roman just did.

You back up until your back hits the edge of the counter, a sharp breath being pulled from your lungs.

“You have no idea how special you’ve become to me in the last month,” he says quietly, almost in a whisper. “I can’t risk losing you, so this is how it has to be.”

He moves his thumb up to your cheek, wiping the tear you didn’t even know had fallen.

“You’re too sweet,” he says while he caresses your soft skin.

You let him, staring at him with glassy eyes. A haze covers your mind, making you feel like danger isn’t imminent, and that you like the feeling of Roman’s touch.

He leans in, his plush lips capturing yours.

As he licks inside your mouth, you feel his hand under your dress, moving up your thigh, stopping when he finds your aching core.

You feel him pull down your underwear and bend down, getting on his knees. He doesn’t waste a second before putting his mouth onto your cunt, licking at you.

A moan escapes your throat as he continues to kiss at your bundle of nerves, his tongue swirling around.

He takes your clit into his mouth, suckling and not giving you a moment of reprieve.

You can feel yourself getting pushed closer to the edge, then Roman turns his head and you feel a sharp pain in your inner thigh. He has stopped licking at you and instead he has sunk his teeth into your delicate skin.

A loud noise leaves you as your hand finds his hair. The pain and pleasure you feel pushes you over the edge as he drinks the blood that comes from your thigh like nectar, like it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

After that, it’s not difficult for him to lead you upstairs, rutting into you in your bed over and over again, just like your dream.

The sound of skin on skin fills the room as he thrusts into you from behind. Roman has bitten into your wrist and from an uncomfortable angle, you watch him drink the blood that pours from your veins. And you let him, the feeling matching the pleasure you feel deep in your core.

You can feel his pace getting sloppier as crimson stains his lips, dripping onto his chin.

Before you know it, waves of pleasure wash over you as you start to feel lightheaded, your walls clenching around him.

He comes inside you with a groan. Heavy breathing wracks him as he pulls himself out of you.

You see him wipe the blood on his face with the back of his hand as your eyelids start to feel heavier.

He shifts so that he’s looking down at you as your head is already on the pillow.

“In the morning, you won’t remember that I was here,” he begins, and you can’t help but listen, looking up at him with tired eyes. “You’ll think none of this really happened. It was just a dream about a strange man.”

He stares at you as you take in what he says, forced to comply. Blood starts to drip from his nose.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” is the last thing you hear before falling into complete darkness.

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #hemlock grove #roman godfrey x you #roman godfrey fanfic #1k celebration

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velvetdesir3s · 4 months ago

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Override: Roman Godfrey x Reader

Summary: After a shopping spree, reader encounters her magnetic but unsettling ex, Roman Godfrey, whose limo ride reignites old tensions and unresolved feelings.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, coercive behavior, mature themes and strong language.

Author’s note: Tried something new with this one, hope you enjoy! :)

After a long day of shopping, I trudged down the quiet streets of Hemlock Grove, my arms weighed down by bags full of clothes and shoes. The setting sun casted long shadows across the pavement, and the cool evening air was a welcome relief from the day’s heat. Still, an unsettling sensation lingered—like I was being watched. Every time I glanced over my shoulder, the empty sidewalks and occasional passing car did little to ease my growing discomfort. A sense of dread began to gnaw at me, as though something dark was lurking just out of sight.

Then, breaking the silence, a sleek black limo glided to a stop beside me. The back window rolled down to reveal Roman Godfrey, my ex-boyfriend. His impossibly charming smile radiated from within the car, but something in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine. His gaze was intense, as if he could see right through my defenses.

"Need a ride?" he asked, his voice smooth, with a teasing lilt that sent an unsettling twist through my stomach.

I tightened my grip on the shopping bags, trying to suppress the flood of memories his presence stirred. Nights spent in his arms, feeling safe and cherished, were now tainted by the darker moments—when his charm turned icy, and his touch left me questioning my sanity. “No, thanks,” I said, forcing my gaze forward. I wouldn’t let myself be drawn in again. The pain of his departure had been unbearable, and I knew I couldn’t survive it a second time.

“Oh, come on. Those bags look heavy. Let me help,” he said, leaning casually on the window ledge. His tone was playful, but there was an undercurrent of insistence that made it clear he wasn’t asking.

I knew Roman well enough to recognize this was a power play. He wouldn’t give up until I gave him the attention he craved. I turned to face him, struggling to keep my voice steady despite the rush of unease and anticipation building inside me. “What do you want, Roman?”

His smile didn’t waver, but the glint in his eyes sharpened, almost predatory. “Oh, come on. Is that really how you greet an old friend? I’m just trying to be nice here.”

The term “old friend” felt like a punch to the gut, dredging up feelings and memories I thought I’d buried. How many times had he played my feelings off to dismiss my concerns, to manipulate me into staying when I knew I should leave? His casual dismissal of my anger was typical. Now that we’re not together anymore, I realized how effortlessly he could twist my emotions, bending them to his will. And how stupid I’d been to let him control me like that.

I struggled to keep my emotions in check, stepping closer with a confidence I didn’t know I had. “Don’t waste your breath,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside. “Someone needs to say ‘no’ to you for once, and you need to accept it.”

A tense pause followed my response. Roman’s smile faltered slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. It was clear he hadn’t anticipated such a cold rejection from me.

He finally spoke, breaking the silence with a smirk. “Attitude suits you,” he said. “But don’t pretend you’re not getting in this car.”

My eyes widened at his audacity, surprise and indignation flashing across my face. I let out a sharp, incredulous scoff. “Trust me, I’m not,” I said, shaking my head and turning away as I continued to walk, my heart pounding in my chest.

Roman’s voice trailed behind me, casual yet insistent. “Since when did you get so stubborn?” he chuckled, mockery lacing his words; he knew precisely how to push my buttons.

“Leave me alone, Roman! I don’t want to deal with you right now!” I waved him off, not looking back. The cool breeze made me shiver, but the warmth of the encounter lingered, unsettling me. How could he still have this effect on me after everything?

The limo caught up with me again, matching my pace with unnerving ease. “You really haven’t missed me?” Roman asked, his voice laced with genuine surprise, as if the idea was completely unfathomable to him.

“I haven’t,” I shot back, frustration rising. But even as I said it, I couldn’t shake the echo of old feelings stirring within me.

Roman seemed taken aback by my response. Despite all those times I’d come running when he called in the middle of the night, this time I was determined not to fall into old patterns. But the way he looked at me now, made it hard to remember why I’d left in the first place.

“Are you seeing someone new, baby?” he asked, trying to sound casual but with a possessive edge that made my skin crawl. It was clear that Roman didn’t want me for himself, but he couldn’t bear the thought of me with anyone else.

I felt a shiver down my spine when he called me baby, a term of endearment that had once made me feel cherished but now only reminded me of how he’d used it to manipulate me. Composing myself, I snapped, “Why do you care? It’s none of your business anymore.”

Roman’s eyes softened just a touch, though his tone remained cool and controlled. “Maybe I care because forgetting someone who was once significant isn’t easy,” he said, clearly calculating his words to his advantage. “Even if I’m not around, it’s natural for me to wonder how you’re doing.”

My gaze softened momentarily, doubt creeping in. Maybe he was being genuine this time? Maybe this was a rare moment of vulnerability? But as I considered his words, the realization hit: he was still playing his old games, still trying to weave me back into the web I’d worked so hard to escape.

With renewed confidence, I hardened my expression and stepped back into my guarded stance. “Nice try, but I’m still not getting in.” I said, my voice steady.

Roman propped his other arm on the window ledge, his posture relaxed but his eyes intense, as if he were dissecting me with his gaze. He shook his head with a hint of a grin. “You have your guard up,” he noted, almost admiringly. “I get it.”

He glanced around the empty streets with a casual shrug. “But these streets aren’t exactly welcoming at night. Why don’t you come inside? We can talk somewhere a bit more… secure. I’d hate for something to happen to you if I leave you here.”

The words hung in the air, a veiled threat wrapped in concern. I glanced at my bags, their weight suddenly overwhelming, as if they carried the burden of every bad decision I’d ever made. With no cabs in sight and my last change spent, I nodded reluctantly. “Fine.”

Roman’s eyes lit up with triumph as he signaled to his chauffeur. The driver took my bags and held the door open. As I stepped inside, the cool, luxurious interior enveloped me, a stark contrast to the chill outside. The door closed with a solid thud, sealing me in with him. After a few seconds, the limo glided away from the quiet streets.

Roman leaned back, clearly satisfied with himself. “Glad you decided to join me.”

I shot him a pointed look. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just wanted to avoid another argument.”

Roman’s smile stayed, but his eyes narrowed. “Avoiding confrontation? That’s a change.”

I stared out the window, struggling to keep my frustration in check. The city lights blurred into streaks of gold and white, I couldn’t help but think how far I’d come since leaving him and how being in this limo with him is a step back from all the progress I’d made. “Maybe it is, but I’m not interested in reliving old fights. I’ve moved on, and so should you.”

“Moved on, huh?” Roman’s eyebrows raised, his tone mocking. “That’s charming.”

I fought to suppress the flicker of vulnerability that threatened to surface. “Even if there’s something still here, it doesn’t change that it’s over between us. You’re not good for me.”

Roman’s smile softened just a fraction, but his gaze remained locked on mine. “Not good for you? That’s harsh. Things got messy, sure, but we had our moments. Some of them… unforgettable.” His voice dropped slightly on that last word, leaving no doubt he was talking about more than just casual memories.

I met his gaze, feeling the pull despite myself. The intensity of his stare was overwhelming, like he was drawing me in, making me question my resolve. “That doesn’t mean it was healthy. I’m not interested in falling back into old patterns.” I took a deep breath, willing the air to cleanse the memories crowding my mind. “I’m here because I had no other choice, not because I want to revisit the past.”

Roman tsked softly, his grin deepening. “You can tell yourself you had no choice, but deep down, you’re here because you wanted to be. Let’s stop pretending otherwise.”

He glanced downward, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Nice shoes.”

I looked down and realized that I had on the shoes he’d given me as a gift a few months before we broke up. The recognition stung like a slap to the face. I shifted uncomfortably, crossing my arms over my chest as if to protect myself from the fact that this wasn’t helping my case of proving that I had moved on. “I don’t need you analyzing me,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. “I’m not here for your psychological games.”

Roman’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Games? I’m just trying to have a conversation. Why does everything have to be so complicated between us?”

“Well, who decided it had to be this way?” I retorted, frustration clear in my voice. His intense gaze made it hard to stay composed.

I looked away, trying to regain my composure, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “Is this really the right time for a discussion?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly, betraying the control I so desperately tried to maintain.

“Maybe not ideal, but it’s the only time we have right now.”

His words, combined with his piercing gaze, made my resolve waver. I felt my defenses crumbling, the tension between us growing thicker, more suffocating. I stared out the window, trying to ignore the familiar pull of his presence, but the darkness outside only seemed to amplify the proximity of his body to mine.

Roman gently cupped my cheek, his fingers warm against my skin, sending a jolt of electricity through me. He guided my face to meet his, the movement tender but insistent. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes, finding myself looking into his piercing green ones. His gaze drifted to my lips, lingering there for what felt like an eternity. “I know you still love me,” he whispered, his voice low and seductive. The touch stirred emotions I’d worked hard to suppress, the ones that always lingered just beneath the surface, waiting for a moment like this to break free.

The word “love” made me cringe inwardly. I was worn out by its lingering presence in my life, of its power to stir emotions I thought I had under control. Deep down, I knew he was right. My feelings for him were always all-consuming, like an addiction I couldn’t kick. Roman is the kind of person who you never get over—he’s complex, captivating, and even with all his contradictions, he’s still irresistibly perfect.

His touch and words reached a vulnerable part of me I’d tried to bury. I felt my defenses weakening, caught between my feelings and the need to stay distant. His fingers traced my jaw, making it increasingly difficult to hold back.

Roman’s gaze locked onto mine, holding me in place. “You can’t deny it. It’s always been us, no matter how hard you try to fight it.”

He drew me closer, his eyes meeting mine before shifting to my lips. Slowly, he leaned in and kissed me. The touch was both familiar and electrifying.

The kiss deepened, and as I laid a hand on his chest, he wrapped an arm around me, drawing me onto his lap. The heat of his embrace and the intimacy only amplified the kiss, enveloping me in its fervent intensity.

Roman's hands roamed my back, his touch a mix of control and raw need. He pulled me closer, his lips teasing heated kisses along my neck. "You know," he murmured against my skin, "I've been with other women since we broke up, but none of them even come close to you."

His kisses traveled lower, each touch sparking a fierce desire. "No matter who I fuck, no one hits the spot like you do," he whispered, his voice loaded with lust. "You're the one I keep coming back to."

As his lips continued their descent, his hands explored every curve with a possessive grip. "I can't get enough of you," he said, his words dripping with desire. “Of your mouth, how you taste, how you feel when I’m inside of you, fuck— just everything about you drives me insane.”

His harsh confessions only heightened my arousal, the rawness of his words sending shivers through me. I found myself unconsciously rocking back and forth on him, trying to chase the intense pleasure his words and touch were provoking.

As his hands began to explore further, I felt him start to lift my dress. The unexpected touch made me gasp sharply, a jolt of pleasure shooting through me as he squeezed my ass.

"Lucky me," he said with a smirk, his eyes glinting with satisfaction as he noted that I wasn't wearing pants under my dress.

“Roman, be gentle—” I started to protest, but before I could say more, I felt him grip my panties and tear them apart with ease. I noticed him quickly stow the torn pieces in his pocket, though he tried to be discreet about it. He swiftly smacked my ass, the sharp sting pulling a wince from me as I held on tight to him.

He chuckled softly at my reaction to his teasing smacks. Maintaining eye contact, he slid one of the straps of my dress down from my shoulder and drew me closer to press a kiss against my skin. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a tender whisper.

I couldn’t help but feel my cheeks flush at his unexpected gentleness. Nevertheless, I enjoyed it while it lasted. But then, Roman’s hands grew rough again. With a decisive tug, he gripped the fabric of my dress and yanked it down violently, even as I sat on his lap. The fabric stretched and tore, the sound of ripping cloth filling the air. He pulled the dress off my shoulders with a fierce urgency, letting it fall in a heap around us. Each move was swift and commanding, his impatience palpable as he discarded the remains with a rough toss.

He surveyed my body as if seeing it for the first time, his gaze smoldering with a primal hunger. His hands slid to my waist, his touch commanding as he traced my skin. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his whisper brimming with desire.

I smiled shyly, unsure of what to say. He noticed and chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear. His fingers lingered on my skin, and the moment felt incredibly intimate, reminiscent of the times we used to share. I closed my eyes, savoring the connection.

When I opened my eyes, I met his green gaze and pulled him closer for a kiss.

The kiss quickly turned rough. I kept my hand around his neck, squeezing to draw out his groans, while his hands roamed to my ass, each squeeze making me gasp.

As we continued to kiss, he slid his hands down to unbuckle his belt. The metal buckle clanged to the floor of the limo, and he swiftly freed himself. I kissed his neck as he thrust into me, filling me completely. I adjusted to his length, moaning as I began to ride him, my body arching with each movement. I wrapped my arms around his neck, our lips crashing together. He broke the kiss suddenly, his eyes locked onto mine as I breathed heavily, my mouth open with each needy gasp.

“I missed you—so much,” he groaned, his voice rough with desire as he guided my hips with each movement. His grip was firm but tender, his fingers pressing into my skin. I watched as his eyes fluttered shut, lost in the intense pleasure.

"I-I missed you too-fuck!" I moaned, my voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. Breathing heavily, I rode him with mounting urgency, each movement driven by our shared desire.

The plush leather of the limo's seats offered a soft cushion as I straddled him, our bodies moving together in a fevered rhythm. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer for desperate, urgent kisses. The confined space of the limo intensified every sound-the rhythmic slap of our bodies, our breathy moans, and the occasional gasp echoing around us.

As I felt the pressure building inside me, I moved my hands to his shoulders, gripping them for stability as my pace increased. The tension in my core surged with each thrust, my breaths coming out in uneven gasps. His hands remained steady on my hips, guiding our rhythm as we both were near of climaxing.

His fingers dug deeper into my hips as he leaned in, his breath warm and heavy against my ear. "I can feel you tightening around me," he grunted, his voice edged with strained pleasure as I hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Let go. Finish all over me."

I let out a high-pitched squeal as I felt myself coming undone, the ecstasy overwhelming me to the point of tears.

My body trembled uncontrollably, each wave of pleasure crashing over me as I moaned his name, the sound escaping in desperate, breathless gasps. As I reached the peak, I felt him shudder beneath me, his release coinciding with mine. His grip on my hips tightened, his breath coming in ragged bursts as we both climaxed together.

I pressed my forehead against his, holding him tightly as we both caught our breath. After a moment, I carefully slid off him and settled beside him, panting softly. As I lay there, trying to regain my composure, a thought crossed my mind: If I ever wanted to get over Roman, I'd need a twelve-step program.

#bill skarsgard #roman godfrey x reader #hemlock grove #roman godfrey #smut

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inklore · 2 years ago

Note

I took this concept from your inpso tag and adapted it but:

Roman Godfrey + choking you and whispering "you're mine." in your ear as he pounds you into the mattress. bonus points if there's blood.

LOVE YOUUU

playful poison

— roman godfrey x (f)reader

word count: 628

warnings: eighteen+ content, rough-ish p in v, choking, jealousy, dirty talk, mentions of creampie and blood.

note: me writing roman godfrey smut in 2023? embarrassing but hello i cannot be responsible for my actions when men are as beautiful as him ok.

Maybe it was childish of you to love the thrill of the game. No matter how one sided and deliberately rigged it was. The threat of the outcome ending in something gruesome or with your lungs burning from a fight that you started the minute you decided to bat your eyes at some sorry sucker at the bar. The thrill that shot through you when Roman’s eyes would scan the room with neutrality, his entire body growing stiff, an undeniable tick in his jaw, when his eyes fell upon you.

Upon the little scheme you had devised.

A scheme he knew all too well—a game he only allowed you to play on nights when he was in a good mood.

And thankfully for you, he was in a good mood tonight. A giving mood.

A mood that wouldn’t end in a screaming match but rather the reason you kept the game going. The outcome of a move you already had planned and hoped for even before your chess pieces had been put on the table.

“You’re mine.” His teeth graze your ear as he whispers the words with harsh restraint. The hot breath from his mouth heats your already hot body to something sweltering. Something that has you gripping his sides harder. “You know that, right? Your constant need for a reminder has my patience wearing thin,” he whispers, barely holding the bite meant to be within them. His thumb rubs the skin on your neck before he tightens his grip around your throat.

A gasp pulls from your lungs before he closes them completely. His hips languid and slow as he fucks you. As he takes his time to drive his cock into your aching pussy.

His teeth nip into your neck, “do I need to repeat myself?” Your body arches into his when you feel the light nick of a fang. “Do I need to drain you of everything until you’re begging for the life only I can give you? Do you need that reminder?” The swivel of your head is barely able to make the same impact as the whimper you let out does. “You do look so fucking pretty covered in your own blood, though,” he grunts.

The heat of his other palm grips the back of your thigh as he pulls your leg further up his body, driving his cock deeper into you. The head of his cock pushing against that part of your walls that makes you cry out until your throat is hoarse and you’re not sure if it’s pain or pleasure—or the lack of air getting to your lungs from the hand around your throat—that has you spineless and weak beneath him.

If there are two things you know for certain about Roman, it’s that he uses fucking as a tactic to get what he wants and to punish.

And with the harsh rut of his pelvis, the relentless pounding, you know that he’s getting off on your pain. Of your oversensitivity, of the need that he’s giving on the same stroke he withholds from touching and hitting the spots that would have you coming on his cock.

You haven’t earned it yet.

You know he’s thinking. That he’s testing you. That he’s playing a game with your pleasure, the same game you played with him earlier. The same game both of you are used to, but your body still has yet to not ache and mewl from the torment of it all.

“I can feel your cunt gripping my dick. You know what to say to get what you want. Or should we keep playing games, and I fill your hole and leave it dripping, and wanting for something you don’t deserve because you don’t know how to behave?”

#roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey smut #roman godfrey #bill skarsgard x reader #roman godfrey imagine #bill skarsgard fanfiction #roman godfrey x you #roman godfrey fic #hemlock grove #bill skarsgard smut

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slut4megantheestallion · 1 year ago

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I need Bill skarsgård x reader asap please someone make fanfic of him I swear to god,He's so fine. I need more fanfics of this man in real life and his characters that he plays like I'm begging 😭 😩 😫 🙏

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kingkat12 · 4 months ago

Text

the same rain (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, fingering, semi-public sex(??), angst, smoking, foul language, Roman needs to get his act together omg

summary: after your date with Roman, you find yourself in a sea of questions-- will you drown or will you float?

word count: 8,347 (sorry not sorry)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10

Long ago, back in middle school, I picked up a sentence from a book that etched itself into my mind; "It is the same rain that you loved that drowned you,"

Every minute of every day felt like I was drowning. Thoughts of Roman were continuously holding my head underwater, making it hard to breathe or function properly. Flashbacks to how his hands gripped my hips, the way it felt to have his lips move against mine with unmatched hunger, and his dizzyingly beautiful smile threatened to suffocate everything I was— had I been consumed?

Returning to school was hard, following my date with Roman this weekend. I could barely walk beside Letha without feeling like I was about to faint from the guilt, and I had to get away, just for a moment. So, I ended up in the library, bringing the book I had borrowed a few days ago. I closed my eyes as I leaned against a shelf in a desolate area, enjoying the peace and quiet. Here, Letha wasn't suspicious of me. Here, there were no prying eyes around, ready to bust me as the worst friend in the world.

However, Roman was here. I could sense that it was him before I had even opened my eyes because I could smell the specific cinnamon cigarettes he smoked. It didn't take long for my heart to start drumming in my chest, and I eventually dared to pry my eyes open.

Roman was standing a few steps away from me, holding out an open book in front of him as though he wasn't here to see me at all. It gave me the time to scan him once more; the way his hair hung over his eyes in soft waves, the way his hands were practically the same size as the book, and how he chewed on his lower lip as though he was deep in thought. When he realized that he had my attention, he slowly moved his gaze from the book and to me, his pupils immediately dilating no matter whether he wanted them to or not. However, in pure Roman fashion, he couldn't suppress his growing smirk; "Don't mind me," he said. "Just reading."

"I see..." I held back a giggle; "What are you reading?"

Roman turned the book with a swift flick of his wrist, as though I wouldn't be able to see him do it if he was quick enough. "Uh... It looks like I've picked up Pride and Prejudice,"

It was too late to suppress the snort that escaped me-- I immediately covered my mouth with my hand, watching as Roman's eyes widened, holding back a laugh as well. "Definitely the book for you," I said, trying to recover. "Just perfect. Liking it so far?"

The tension between us was palpable, especially since we weren't addressing what had happened this weekend. It was almost as though I could feel it wrap around me, clawing at my heart-- why was I so happy to see him, and why was it so damn hard to breathe?

All the air I was fighting to keep in my lungs seeped out the second I heard Roman's gorgeous laugh again, watching him smile the most genuine smile I had ever seen splayed out across his lips. "Nope," he said, putting the book away. "This looks like complete and utter shit."

I couldn't help but gasp; "You insult me. That book is a classic!"

"Yeah? Classic case of the snores,"

Groaning, I rolled my eyes as I turned away from him, hoping to suppress my smirk. "What are you doing here, Roman? Don't you have class?"

Roman shrugged, moving closer to me. I watched him lean against the shelf next to me through my peripheral view, holding my breath-- why was this such a thrill? "You're right," he said, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he scanned me in a rather obnoxious manner. "I just didn't feel like going. And then I saw you coming in here, so I just wanted to say hi."

I swallowed hard; he wanted to say hi? Roman wanted to... talk to me? Something about that concept was mind-boggling. This definitely wouldn't have happened a week ago. "You didn't call, y'know?" I said, daring to face him.

"Call?" Roman's brows drew together, his green eyes shimmering as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You wanted me to call?"

"Well..." I immediately wanted to take it back-- why had I said that? Stupid! "I don't know, Roman, isn't that what guys usually do after... whatever it was that we did?"

He blinked a few times, biting down on his lips with a puzzled expression on his face. "Did what?"

Something about the way he was batting his lashes at me made me realize he was taking the piss, as always. I groaned, rolling my eyes as I stepped away from the shelf, turning my back to him as I walked to the one opposite us. There was no way in hell I'd adhere to his preferred outcome of this conversation, no way in hell I'd spell it out. "Nothing, Roman. Forget it,"

"Come on!" he said, stepping towards me with a chuckle. "Play along, will you? Just messing around." Roman's arm wrapped around my waist, pulling my back flush against him as he guided my hair to the side, leaning down to press a soft kiss against my neck.

My brain nearly shut down at the feeling of his lips against my skin, but I knew I had to fight it. How would it look if I closed my eyes and let him do whatever he wanted to me right now? In public, again? I let out a squeak, the physical contact feeling like an active elective shock, and I pushed him away as he laughed.

"You can't do that!" I huffed, trying to keep my voice low as I scoped out the area around us, making sure no one saw. As discreetly as I could, my eyes darted down for less than a second, checking whether he was hard again-- I couldn't shake the memory of how he'd gotten aroused after seeing me scared out of my mind this weekend. But I could let out a relieved sigh when I saw that he wasn't, and my cheeks flushed red with the realization that he had just kissed me.

"Fine, alright!" Roman put his hands in the air, taking a step back as he continued to laugh. "So you wanted me to call, is that it?"

Shrugging, I did my best to hide the redness of my face by looking down at the floor. It was rather embarrassing that he knew that I wanted him to contact me-- I hoped he didn't think I was desperate, or something. "I didn't," I mumbled. "I didn't mean it like that."

"You didn't?"

"Nope,"

"Okay... Is this the sort of situation where you wanted me to want to call you?" Roman took a big breath, holding back another laugh. "You girls and your ways... If you wanted to fuck, you could've called me first, y'know?"

That was definitely not what I wanted. Not yet, at least. My eyes rounded out with the realization that Roman's motives were clearly not as gallant and pure as I had made them out to be in my head. "Go away," I mumbled, trying not to look too disappointed. "You know what I feel for you, and I don't need you to rub it in my face. Go to class."

Roman rolled his eyes, taking a step towards me. In my attempt to avoid him, I felt my back hit the shelf behind me, and I looked up at him with big, worried eyes as he cornered me. He pressed himself further up against me as he put his hand next to my head. "I'm not making fun of you. I'm dead serious,"

It felt as though my heart was thudding against his chest, trying to beat him away. "Dead serious about what?"

Roman shrugged, flashing his teeth in a rather sinister-looking smile before leaning down to whisper in my ear; "Call me if you want to,"

"Want to...?"

"To fuck," Roman pressed a kiss right next to my ear, which had my breath hitching. My hand flew up to his chest, ready to push him off of me, but it was as though my body refused to comply with my wishes.

"That's not--" I had to clear my throat before continuing, realizing my brain was threatening to shut down and become another one of his mindless girls. "That's not exactly what I had in mind..."

Roman pulled away from my cheek, nudging his nose against mine. "Tell me, then,"

Why was it so hard to keep a straight thought around this man? "Just... I don't know, is that all you want from me? Sex?" I had to swallow rather hard, letting out a shaky breath against him. Everything about this made my heart drop.

"Well..." Roman paused, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "What more would you want from me?"

Looking up at him, meeting his green eyes, was too dangerous. I had to look away and try to discard the fluttering of my stomach at every single touch from him. It quickly became obvious that Roman probably didn't know how to handle anything deeper than just casual sex. Everything about it made me sigh; "Roman, I think you know very well what I want from you... And I think it's time for you to find out whether you want the same. Because if not, I need you to leave me alone,"

I put my hand on his chest, making way for me to leave. There wasn't much time to stare at the beautifully stunned expression on his face, wondering what on earth he had done wrong.

All I knew was that we either did this my way or no way.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I had successfully made it to the next day, eyes a little puffier than before. My heart was practically in pieces after yesterday's conversation with Roman, wondering whether or not he would ever be interested in me the same way I was about him. After everything we had done together, I still hadn't gotten any confirmation from him that he reciprocated-- it made my whole body ache with a numbness I hadn't felt before.

I was getting a little conscious about my puffy eyes, so I decided to put on the pair of sunglasses I had in my bag despite being inside the cafeteria.

Letha watched me, unable to hold back her giggles; "You look ridiculous. Take them off, please?"

"Stop it," I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest as I watched her finish her lunch. "I think I just had an allergic reaction to something." Lying to Letha again, even if it was something as small as this, made me feel more like a piece of shit than before.

Everything about this situation made me feel horrible. I had put my friendship with Letha on the line, and for what? Some guy that didn't see me as anything more than a sex object?

It seemed that I wasn't the best liar; Letha moved to the edge of her seat, scanning me with a worried look on her face; "Are you okay?" she tried, reaching out to touch my shoulder. "Maybe you're still sick from the weekend... Should I drive you home?"

This was killing me-- absolutely killing me. How was it possible for someone to be so sweet? "No, I'm fine! I promise," The kind look in Letha's green eyes was starting to feel like a drill into my skull, and I didn't know how long I could last with sneaking behind her back concerning my feelings for Roman.

Eventually, Letha made peace with my glasses and odd behaviour, but I still couldn't shake the slight tremble in my legs; I was getting close to confessing, my guilt rising to the brink of my capacity.

Even worse, was that the tremble didn't get any better later that day when I met Roman in an unusually empty stairway. Everything about it made me want to groan and evaporate-- just my luck.

There were barely any people who used this part of the school, which was why I often took this way up to the second floor. It seemed like I wasn't the only one who had taken use of the desolate space; I watched as Roman sat on the banister further up, handing a guy a few dollars in exchange for some cigarettes.

When Roman finally spotted me, I was sure I looked like the world's biggest idiot. It dawned on me that I was staring at him, completely frozen at the sight of his beauty, and I cleared my throat when I finally managed to look away. With shaky steps, I began to make my way up the stairs, hoping he'd let me walk by without making any jokes or mocking comments. Ideally, we wouldn't talk at all. But as I tried to pass him, Roman's hand easily reached out for my wrist, his fingers wrapping around my skin with the gentlest touch.

My breath hitched-- I turned to meet his green, green eyes, noticing that the dealer was gone. The only thing left was him, me, and the pack of cigarettes he had just bought. My eyes darted down to my arm, observing how big his hands were against my skin.

"Did I say something wrong?" Roman eventually asked, an unintelligible emotion swimming in his eyes.

I shrugged, stunned that he was asking that question in the first place. "Why does it matter to you?"

"It doesn't," he said, not missing a beat. Despite his refusal to admit anything, Roman drew his other hand forth to trace circles in the palm of my hand, retracting back into his shell.

My eyes followed his movement, inhaling a shaky breath. What was he doing? Was I really putting my friendship on the line for this? "Roman, I can't be seen with you here--"

"There's no one here," Roman rolled his eyes, clearly not here to fight with me. His grip around my wrist tightened, almost as though he was afraid I'd leave again. "I'm not a fucking idiot, I wouldn't be doing this if I knew someone was watching. What's made you so paranoid?--" His trail of words stopped, eyes rounding out with some sort of realization. " You know what? I have an idea." Roman reached into his pocket, fishing out something silver, something sharp that practically shone beneath the bright lights of the school--

I let out a high-pitched scream, jumping away from him in all-taking panic. "No, no!--"

"Calm down!" Roman barked, holding out the needle over the hollow of the stairwell before dropping it down to the first floor. There wasn't much noise as it hit the ground, other than a high-pitched ringing that lasted for a few seconds.

I realized that I was practically hugging my body, ready to shield myself from any incoming needle attacks, and slowly unwinded my arms from around myself. Letting out the breath I had been holding, I watched Roman's hardening gaze meet mine. "Told you," he said, voice low. "Never wanted to, never planned to."

My eyes dropped to the floor, unable to meet his anymore. "Okay," By instinct, I reached for the sleeve of my sweater, ripping at it with my nails to keep my nerves in check. I hadn't expected to see him today, especially not here and now-- had he noticed my puffy eyes?

Roman sighed, reaching forward to guide me back towards him. "Stop that," he mumbled, grabbing my hands, keeping them separate. "You do that all the time, do you know that?" He nodded towards my sweater, squeezing my hands.

I wondered if it had dawned on him that we were practically holding hands now. If he realized that he was being sweet with me, that he was acting as though he cared. Would it scare him if he knew? I couldn't be sure. All I could be sure of was that this was hurting me either way. With a sigh, I spoke up; "What are you doing?"

Roman's green eyes darted down to our hands, unable to meet my gaze. "I... don't know,"

"Of course you don't," Slowly, I pried my hands away from his, feeling my heart sink into my shoes.

Watching me retreat, Roman opened his mouth to protest; he was ready to speak, but nothing came out. He stared at me with blank eyes for a few seconds, almost as though he had short-circuited.

The air around us started to feel thicker, the tension growing without its needed release-- all until he finally said something; "Look, I don't know why, but you being mad at me is just really inconvenient right now, so... How do I make it up to you?"

It felt as if the air had gotten knocked out of me, and I stared at him in disbelief at his words; "... Inconvenient?"

"Yeah," Roman rolled his eyes, cursing under his breath. It was clear that he didn't know how to properly articulate what he was feeling, and that made everything furthermore frustrating. "I know that you said I have to figure out my feelings for you or whatnot, but I don't think I have any. So, for Letha's sake, I think we should make a truce or something."

"For... Letha's sake?" I had to suppress a laugh-- this was insane. "Since when have you cared about Letha's feelings? Was that before or after you blackmailed me into meeting you everywhere, and then kissed me?"

Not a beat passed before Roman raised his voice in protest; "You said I could! You said 'you can kiss me now if you want to', so I did!"

How was it possible for someone to be so confusing? I balled my fists in an attempt to control my exasperation; "Well, why the fuck did you then?! You say you have no feelings for me, and then you kiss me?--"

"Because I wanted to!" Roman yelled back, gripping the banister with a force that turned his knuckles white. "I've wanted to kiss you again ever since that time we played seven minutes in heaven, so excuse me for taking the opportunity!"

It was immediately clear that he regretted saying that out loud-- his green eyes widened, his plush, pink lips parting in mortification.

However, Roman wasn't the only one that was caught off guard. I was quite sure that my heart had stopped, the ringing in my ears mixing in with the echo of his voice lingering in the empty stairwell. Realizing I had been holding my breath, the rest of it came out in a shaky exhale, my body stiffening with complete and utter shock. "Roman, I--"

"Please don't," His words came out barely more audible than a whisper as he hurried to get off the banister. "Forget I said that. I haven't had my nicotine this morning--"

"Roman!--"

"I don't usually deal with virgins, anyways," Roman mumbled, throwing his bag over his shoulder as he refused to meet my gaze. "Too much work. And you're kind of hard-maintenance."

I couldn't even hold back my reaction to the further blow, letting my jaw fall. "Sorry, what? What is happening right now?"

He shrugged, a forced nonchalance about him as he dragged his fingers through his gelled hair. "Again, I'm not into you like that. And if I wanted a therapist, I would've hired one, right?" That seemed quite funny to him-- Roman's mouth curved up as he let out a nervous laugh, now watching my eyes hollow.

This was probably the biggest whiplash of events I had ever experienced. Completely spellbound by his idiocy, I couldn't do anything other than stare at him. Was he really this clueless, and did he really think these things about me?

I was very abruptly reminded of why I hated him in the first place. I was about to spew verbal acid at him but was interrupted by the door to the second floor swinging open. With quick steps, I moved away from Roman, glaring at him from afar as I hoped to spot a flash of regret.

But hence; nothing.

I realized that the group of boys at the door were Roman's friends, and they quickly spotted him as well. It didn't take long for him to wordlessly join them, bumping fists as they walked past me. Everything about it made me feel like a ghost-- what had just happened?

And why was I so heartbroken over this jerk?

I felt my heart drop, hiding my face in my hands the second I knew they couldn't see me. Everything about this situation was mortifying; Roman didn't have any feelings for me. I hadn't meant anything to him at all, and all of this back-and-forth had been for nothing.

I was ready to run to the bathroom and burst into tears, completely spent and exhausted, until I suddenly heard a conversation coming from beneath;

"Who was that?"

"Who?" This was definitely Roman.

"That chick you were with?"

Intrigued, I pulled myself together before carefully leaning over the banister, trying to get a good look at the gang of boys who were yet to make it all the way to the exit.

"None of your concern," Roman said, giving in to a chuckle.

That wasn't satisfactory enough for the other guy, who proceeded to shrug; "She was cute, though. Do you have her number?"

Roman's eye twitched, his smirk faltering. Without even saying a word, he shoved the other guy rather harshly; "Drop it,"

I immediately stepped away, clasping a hand over my mouth as the rest of the guys laughed, finally leaving the stairwell. Letting out the breath I had been holding, I clutched my heart as my mind raced-- was I imagining things, or were Roman's words betraying his actions?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

"It is the same rain that you loved that drowned you,"

It was haunting me, at this point. Genuinely.

All the feelings I had for Roman had nowhere to go anymore. For a week now, I had been like a ghost to him. The one thing I had learned about Roman, at the end of the day, was that he was very, very true to his word-- he definitely didn't like me. I could be very sure about this, now that he suddenly had a new cheerleader on his arm again, making it his twelfth. Everything about that made me want to puke; how could I have been so stupid as to believe Roman would feel differently about me? Was he actually the asshole he made himself out to be? Maybe it wasn't a coping mechanism-- maybe it really was just him?

So, so many questions.

I could only watch him from afar on the bleachers, with Letha sitting next to me and revising her notes for an upcoming test. With a heavy heart, I watched as Roman leaned over to kiss the cheerleader's cheek, and I suddenly recognized the girl from my literature classes; Jessica. Fucking Jessica? Come on!

The sight was enough for me to crumble up my notes, not realizing what I was doing until Letha nudged me; "Uh... What are you doing?" she asked, her green eyes giving me a weird look.

In an instant, I let go of the paper, accidentally letting it fall to the floor. "Sorry," I mumbled, bending down to pick it up. "I just didn't get much sleep. I'm spasming up." It was hard not to shudder-- lying to my best friend had become a habit, and there was nothing I hated more.

Letha didn't seem to buy it, but she also didn't comment. Instead, she wrapped an arm around me, soothingly rubbing my back. "What's up with you these days?" she asked, concern coated in her soft voice. "What's bothering you? You can tell me anything, you know that?"

The soft cotton of her sweater, the kindness of her being-- my heart was actively breaking. I didn't deserve any of it.

Everything felt so worthless at this point; especially while watching Roman's public display of affection to this girl that he barely even knew. Had he actually taken my romance tips and applied them to someone else? Asshole move number one. Eventually, I turned to Letha, a sense of anxiety washing over me as I realized what I was about to do; "Anything?"

My angel of a best friend only held me tighter, shooting me a kind, warm smile as she nodded. "Anything,"

"Okay..." It was getting hard to breathe-- was I really going through with this? My pulse quickened, my words coming out with a sliver of panic; "Please don't kill me, okay?"

Letha tucked a strand of her long, blonde hair behind her ear, worry filling her eyes. "Seriously, you're torturing me at this point, just say it," She squeezed my shoulders as she attempted a smile. Even in the most tense moments, she still tried to put me at ease.

There was no way I could back down now, and I wanted so badly to be done with it. To be done with the guilt, the shame, and the heartbreak. Just as I was about to speak up, it felt as though my mouth had dried up, and I was beyond breathless when I finally blurted it out; "Roman and I kissed at that party where we played seven minutes in heaven. And... another time after that."

Letha might as well have frozen over. There was no single movement whatsoever. Her arm remained wrapped around me as she stared at me with an empty look, eyes wider than I had ever seen them before.

I caught a glimpse of Roman kissing his new girl of the week in my peripheral view, and along with my confession, that was enough for my tears to press their way up in my eyes with a burn unlike anything I had ever felt in my life.

I could swear that Letha was furious. That she wanted to throw me down the bleachers and stomp my face in. But instead, she slowly retreated her arm around me, holding her breath. Letha's green eyes glossed over, unable to meet my gaze anymore. "You... What?"

With swift movements, I pressed the sleeve of my sweater up against my eyes, not wanting to cry in public. "Could I please explain?" I tried, holding back a sob-- why on earth had I decided to do this now?

"What is there to explain?" Letha wrapped her jacket tightly around her body, almost as though to hug herself, her words coming out in a breathy mumble. "You kissed. Twice. Had it been once, I might've gotten it because it was a party game, but... you went back for more?" The hurt in her voice was thick, and I couldn't help but notice how small she sounded; I had never seen Letha so upset.

Her question haunted me, and I buried my face in my hands. "I'm so sorry, Letha, I never meant to hurt you or go behind your back--"

"Is it at least something serious between you two?" Something about Letha hardened, and her words were starting to choke me. "Please tell me you pulled this crap for a good reason?"

I sniffled, wiping away any impending tears with my sleeve. The truth made my confession even more mortifying-- saying it out loud only made me feel worse; "He says he has no feelings for me..."

Letha nodded, crossing her arms over her chest as she slowly started rocking herself. "And you have feelings for him?" When she didn't get an answer, she finally looked at me, meeting my glossy eyes with a glare so harsh that I nearly shuddered. I would've never thought Letha would be capable of pulling such an expression. Enraged, she raised her voice; "You have feelings for him?!"

Panicked, I put my hands over my head, almost as though I was scared she'd hit me. "I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry, Letha, you have no idea!--" As I heard her shuffle about, I raised my eyes to see her gather her stuff, ready to leave. My tears were burning in my eyes, obscuring my vision as I desperately grabbed her hand. "Letha, please! I made a mistake, I never wanted to do this to you!--"

"But you did!" Letha sneered, throwing her backpack over her shoulder. She turned to me with a look that would etch itself into my mind for days to come, a look so furious that it gave me goosebumps. "You're no different than the rest. Go be one of his whores, for all I care!"

Stunned, I watched as she made her way off the bleachers, not looking back. I didn't know Letha had it in her to call me slurs, but at the same time... I knew I deserved it. However, nothing could prepare me for the avalanche of sadness that would ensue my confession; I was dead sure that I had lost my best friend, and what had I gained in the process? I buried my face in my hands, allowing tears to run down my cheeks, trying to make myself as small as possible. My shoulders slumped, wanting to ball myself up into nothing and disappear.

I did my best to get myself together, sniffling as I wiped away my tears. Reminding myself that I was in public, and that I definitely didn't want to make a scene, I let out a shaky breath as I gathered my stuff and got ready to leave. But just as I stood up, I couldn't help but look in Roman's direction, wanting to get a quick glance at the root cause of my misery.

However, I hadn't thought that he would be looking back at me as well.

There he was, his arm wrapped around another girl, but he couldn't take his eyes off me. He wouldn't-- Roman's gaze didn't shy away as our eyes met. Instead, they rounded out with the realization that I had been crying.

Seeing him again, being acknowledged, was enough to drive me over the edge once more. Letting out a quiet sob, I stormed off the bleachers, clasping a hand over my mouth. Who would've thought my ridiculous crush would lead to these gut-wrenching feelings? It felt as though I couldn't breathe, heaving for air as I rushed to get away from everything and everyone.

"It is the same rain that you loved that drowned you,"

To my surprise, it didn't take long before I heard the familiar sound of long steps following me. My heart beat so hard, I thought it might explode and cover the school grounds in my flesh and blood. The way my pulse quickened made me nauseous-- I needed to get away. "Go away, Roman!" I clutched my heart as I sped up; I didn't need to turn around to know it was him.

His next question could've easily been answered if he'd listened closely to the sob I was suppressing; "Are you crying?" Roman didn't have to do much to catch up to me, but he wasn't lunging at me just yet. "Why are you crying?"

I couldn't believe I had to deal with him on top of everything-- I groaned, turning around to face him despite how bloodshot my eyes looked. "Could you back off? Go back to your braindead cheerleader!"

It was clear that Roman hadn't expected to be confronted head-on like this. His green eyes widened before they hardened, balling his fists as he spoke; "Why are you so fucking mad? What did I do this time?"

"Everything!" I inhaled a shaky breath, burying my face in the crook of my arm to hide my tears. There was no way in hell I was about to cry openly in front of this douchebag. "I just-- I just lost Letha because of you! I got so swept up in you, I caused a fucking avalanche!" My lower lip gave in to a quiver, and multiple tears escaped the crease of my arm, now rolling down my chin and landing on the grass beneath us. "And you obviously don't give a damn about me, and I've been throwing my feelings at you like an idiot, and I just... How could I have been so stupid?"

I swallowed another sob, making an unsuccessful attempt at wiping away my tears. Refusing to meet his eyes, I sniffled as my gaze fell to the ground, shaking my head in denial as Roman stayed silent. "Please, I... need to be alone. I don't want to make myself look even worse in front of you than I already do--"

My ramble escaped me with my next breath; it got caught in my throat as I felt the soft fabric of Roman's sweater against my chin, silently wiping away my tears. It was clear that he figured out I had told Letha. I dared to look up at him, finding an unusually forgiving tenderness about him.

Speechless, I could only stare right back. Roman was focused on wiping away every hint of a tear, his brows drawing together as he carefully traced the bags under my eyes. The kindness of his gesture, the softness in which he was tending to my sadness, made a familiar warmth spread through my chest all up into the tips of my fingers. It became too much-- I reached for his hand, prying it away from my face. "Why are you doing this?"

Roman shrugged, debating whether to say what was on his mind. It was clear that he was conflicted, and I could see it in the way his shoulders tensed up and the way his jaw clenched. "Doing you a favour. Your mascara is everywhere," Roman grew more and more uncomfortable with my silence. "Just stop crying, okay? Do you want me to talk to Letha?"

"I doubt that will help," I mumbled, sniffling. "Look, Roman, I really can't do this right now... You and your bullshit just lost me my best friend, do you realize that?"

He shrugged; "Letha will come around... I guess we'll have to wait it out,"

"We?" I huffed, wiping away the tears that were threatening to spill once more. "There is no we. Letha is family to you, so of course she'll forgive you! Me, on the other hand!--"

"There could be," Roman mumbled, interrupting me. His gaze darted down to his shoes, now chewing on his lower lip as his next words came out with a low whisper; "A we, I mean."

What? I shook my head, immediately going into denial. "... What are you even saying?" Something about his words sent me over the edge again-- I was so tired of the illusion of everything turning out alright between us. The exhaustion brought more tears to my eyes, and I brought my hands up to my face, hiding from him in plain sight. "Go away," I said, my voice shaky from the sadness consuming me. "Go away, please just go away! I don't need you to change your mind every week whether you have feelings for me or not, just-- Go!"

Roman sighed before stepping forward, completely taking my breath away as he wrapped his arms around me. It felt as though he understood that I wasn't pushing him away with malice, but more so to protect myself-- and right now, he was wrapped around me like a shield. I didn't have any fight left in me to push him away, so I buried my face against his chest, inhaling the smell of cinnamon cigarettes that I had weirdly missed.

"Let's go somewhere else, okay?" Roman said, sizing up the people passing us by with a scowl. "I have a feeling you don't want everyone to see this. Just follow me."

It didn't shock me that Roman's first thought was his car-- but I still ended up right there. In the dreaded backseat. Hadn't I promised myself I'd never set foot there? It seemed all my thoughts of reason flew out the window when I was in this state. He was currently tending to my new tears, wiping them away with the pads of his fingers. "Letha will forgive you," he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Do you maybe want a cigarette? They usually help me take the edge off... I have different flavours, if you want?"

I shook my head, feeling my headache swell from all the crying. "No thanks," I said. "And I think Letha would rather cut her head off than forgive me right now. She even called me a whore."

"... You?" was the first thing that came out of Roman's mouth. "The only virgin left at this school?"

Despite how sad I was, it didn't hold me back from hitting his arm. Roman let out a warm chuckle, grabbing my hands, forcing them away from him. "Just stop crying, alright? Pretty girls aren't allowed to cry in the back of my car,"

"... What?" I turned to him, brows drawing together in confusion. Did he just...?

Roman broke into a smile, nodding to my cheeks; "See? Not crying anymore. Flattery works every time,"

I held back a rather large groan-- I wasn't up for Roman's party tricks, especially not in this state. Knowing that he knew what I felt for him, knowing he used it to toy with me just for the fucks, made me even more angry. "I think I'm good now," I mumbled, turning away from him. "I don't think I should be seen here with you... Letha might actually think I have no heart."

There was a thick silence that fell over us like fog-- it made me face Roman again just to check what the hold-up was. And there he sat, his face suddenly completely serious, his brows drawing together in... anger? "Well, you chose this for yourself," he said, clenching his jaw as his black pupils shrunk.

Everything about him right now scared me. Why was he staring at me like that? It was as though he was about to pounce and rip me to shreds. "Roman, what's up with you?--"

"You're not the fucking victim here," Roman's words came out with a sneer, sharp enough to cut through wood. "You asked me to kiss you. You started this. Being seen with me is not what's going to make Letha think you're heartless, so either you own up to your crap or leave me the fuck out of it!"

My lips parted in complete and utter shock. I blinked repeatedly, hoping to blink away the angry expression on his face. "What the fuck?" I sat up, tucking my hair behind my ears as I attempted to size him up. "You're the one who dragged this shit out! You threatened to tell Letha we kissed if I didn't comply to your wishes, and then you damn near dry-humped me in that fucking alleyway!"

"Hey!"

I could barely believe it; in the middle of his outburst, I could see hints of a blush creeping up his cheeks. "You know I'm right!" I barked back, balling my fists. I couldn't believe we were having the same argument over and over. "I wouldn't have been in this mess if you hadn't stirred the fucking pot! You could've said no in that fucking closet!"

Roman quickly got enough of my retaliation; "You know why I didn't!"

"Yeah, and fuck you for that!" The volume of our altercation was rising-- I hoped people passing by the car couldn't hear this. "You shouldn't have kissed me! You should've just told me no, you owed me that kindness!"

Roman's eye twitched, and I was sure he hadn't blinked in about a minute. "I didn't owe you any kindness! You've always been horrible to me!--"

"Because you've been horrible back!"

"And why do you think that is? You think it's easy to be treated like shit by the one person you?!--" Roman inhaled sharply, eyes widening as yet another confession slipped past his lips. It was clear that he was mortified, that he had definitely not wanted to let that slip, but his eyes never left mine in shock and horror.

It felt as though I had been electrocuted, completely frozen in my seat. Uttering my next words felt as though I was walking through a minefield; "Person you... What?"

It didn't take long before Roman started squirming, eyes now frantically doing everything not to meet mine. "Shut up," he breathed, reaching over to open the car door on my side. Now that he was leaning across me like this, it was obvious that he was trying to get me to exit the vehicle. However, his face betrayed him-- Roman's hand gripped the door handle, slowly turning his head towards me. Like this, I could feel his breath hot and heavy against my lips, inches away from me.

I wasn't sure why I was digging my nails into my seat as though I was about to be mauled by a wildcat. The intensity oozing from Roman along with the realization that I had nowhere to run completely engulfed me, and my instincts suddenly pushed all thoughts of reason out of my brain. I had no idea what came over me as I put my hand over his, closing the door to the car before doing what I never thought I would do in this situation; our lips came together in a hot, fiery kiss as Roman leaned forward, laying me flat against the backseat.

I told myself I would never end up in this situation-- in the back of Roman's car. But here I was, splayed out beneath him like all his cheerleader whores, completely out of breath as I gave in to my deepest, darkest desires. The taste of cinnamon tobacco entered my system, and I couldn't help but moan out against him; I had been dreaming of being reunited with him like this for longer than I could remember. So as Roman's weight on top of me gave me a sense of security, the need for his kisses dulled down all my logical thinking.

There was nothing more important than this. There never had been.

The next thing that happened snapped me out of the constant static noise buzzing in my brain; "I want you so bad," Roman breathed against me, the whiny tone in his voice making my stomach flutter and flip-- was I maybe dreaming?

"Fuck Letha," he continued, his kisses now trailing down my jaw and neck, grabbing at me as though he was afraid I'd disappear. "Fuck all of that."

No, no, no. I couldn't. "Don't-- Don't say that," It had never been harder to inhale a simple breath before, and I let my lips part in pleasure as I realized Roman was leaving hickeys in the crook of my neck. Why was he doing that? Did he not know everyone would see them and make conclusions?--

Oh.

Before I could protest, Roman's plush lips were back on mine, melting me against him with the softest kisses known to man. In a flash of passion, my hands went up into his hair in an attempt to bring him closer. I could feel the thud of his heart against mine, realizing his was racing as well-- I wondered whether he reacted like this to all his girls. Warmth blossomed in my chest, sparks igniting as Roman leaned in close, lips brushing together as we tried to catch our breaths. The smell of his cologne and the deep citrus scent of his conditioner made me dizzy to the point where it felt as though butterflies danced in my stomach. But the warmth consumed me, completely in awe of the fact that we were reunited again as I leaned into the next kiss, Roman's lips impossibly sweet against my own.

He didn't have to say anything for me to know he had missed me too. The unspoken words passed between us with each stroke of my fingers against his back, each kiss he placed against the corners of my mouth, and the softness of his thumb caressing my cheek.

Roman pulled away as his long, slender fingers dug themselves into my waist. "Can I try something?"

What? I was too dazed, too content to immediately deny him. But had I known what he would do next, I probably wouldn't have agreed so fast. Roman leaned forward to unite our lips in another passionate kiss, but I couldn't feel his hands on me anymore. It took me a few seconds to realize he was unbuttoning my jeans and reaching my zipper.

My eyes widened against the kiss, and the squeak I let out got muffled against his lips. In a flash of panic, my hand reached down to grab his arm with speed I didn't know I had. Roman hummed, detaching our fiery union as his green eyes met mine, trying to find the reason for my panic. "Come on," he purred, the look of mischief spreading across his lips.

"I'm not doing it in the back of your car!" My fingers were still digging into the skin of his arm, making sure he wouldn't move.

Roman rolled his eyes; "Not what I was getting at, but whatever," A laugh escaped him, tilting his head to the side as he looked down at me splayed out across the backseat. "I'm not that evil. I wouldn't let you have your first time here."

A sense of comfort washed over me-- since when did he take pity on me? "Then what... What are you doing?"

He shrugged, holding back another laugh; "Giving you a sneak peek,"

I wasn't sure what that entailed, but my grip around his arm loosened.

Something about me changed whenever Roman was around. A part of me wanted to please him, appease him, and entice him into staying with me like this forever, no matter what. I wanted nothing more than for us to be together, no matter how hard my conscience was gnawing at me regarding the Letha situation. But thoughts of my best friend quickly evaporated as Roman's finger was suddenly deep in my cunt-- I wasn't quite sure when I had managed to get wet, but here I was. It must've been somewhere in between the fighting and the kissing.

I could only whimper against his kisses, not used to having anything in me at all. There was a certain sting, but it dulled down when Roman was at the hilt of his knuckle. It quickly turned into something I had never felt before-- I couldn't put my finger on exactly what it was, but it felt as though all the butterflies in my stomach melted into one, a weirdly pleasurable ache building in my lower abdomen.

As Roman added a second finger into me, careful to go in with slow strokes, my back arched slightly off the backseat of the car. Suppressing a moan, the hand I had in his hair tightened as a certain desperation ran through my veins. I watched as Roman smirked down at me, a knowing look in his eyes as he spoke; "If this feels good, imagine how it will feel when you get the real deal,"

I nearly shuddered-- that thought alone almost sent me over the edge. I could only writhe, my hips meeting the thrusts of his fingers as Roman ran his tongue along my bottom lip.

I was aware that all of this was a bad idea. To get more involved with Roman, to let him unravel me further; it was plain stupid. And horrible to Letha. I knew it was awful, that Roman and I shouldn't be together, and that I should be running after my best friend to keep begging for forgiveness.

Everything was starting to make my head spin.

As I came hard around Roman's digits, letting out a moan against his lips which would later make me blush, I couldn't help but wonder what on earth to do next. Should I let it all spiral? Should I get myself together and fix my friendship?

My thoughts completely shut down as Roman's wet fingers made their way past my lips, making me lap up my own slick.

Filthy. We were filthy, we were fucking horrible, and his following words didn't make me feel any better.

"Let's give it a try," Roman whispered against my lips, sincerity swimming in his green eyes. "You and I... It just has to happen. This feels too good to be wrong, fuck what Letha says."

There they were, the words I had wanted to hear from him all along. But now that he was right here, telling me he wanted us to be together, I found myself unsure what to say. When Roman leaned forward to sneak in a soft kiss, muffling the warmth of his chuckle, I realized I had a decision to make-- I knew it would end up being one of the hardest decisions of my life so far.

I held my breath, realizing the quote that had haunted me was correct after all; "It is the same rain that you loved that drowned you,"

(a/n: here are the links to PART 1, PART 2, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10!! thank you for reading!!<33)

#roman godfrey #hemlock grove #roman godfrey x reader #x reader #bill skarsgård #fanfiction #oneshot #bill skarsgard #fanfic #smut #angst #toxic relationship #JUSTICE FOR LETHA FFS #ugh i love him #highschool!au

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obexes · 1 year ago

Text

CATALYSIS

PT. II

R.C x READER • R.G x READER

Warnings: Smut, Self-Sabatoging Reader, Manipulation, Small Amount Of Dub-Con (Fucking Rafe), Underaged Drinking, fingering

A/N: The next part will be longer, and this might end up being 10 parts bc the plot, oh I'm gonna let it cook. I tried to get this out ASAP, while juggling too much other shit. My mental health is sickly, so enjoy my degenerate fantasies. Feedback is so appreciated and encouraging y'all :)

Word Count: 7.5 K

Sundays were always your favourite thing about your parents being home. The smell of Italian sausage and carbonara had summoned you from your room to the living room, where your family sits spread out around the large room, with their dinner plates.

When you and Nicky were kids, your Mom would lose it if she caught you guys on the eggshell coloured living room carpet with anything darker than water. Ever since Henley and Patton were old enough to eat on their own, your dad has enforced mandatory family time, which was simply eating dinner while watching a movie together on Sundays.

To be fair, despite all the travelling, they tried really hard to be home every Sunday. You took your spot at the coffee table and picked up the only unoccupied plate.

“I’m feeling Marvel tonight.” Nicky commented, twirling his fork around in his pasta. “Or maybe Disney?”

“Turning Red!” “Inside out!” Your younger brothers both called out simultaneously. You bite the inside of your cheek to stifle a chuckle as your mom warily eyes the excited kids, or more accurately, the food balanced on their laps. She’s hopeless, you think freely.

“I’m thinking we should watch Euphoria. Bring some real world problems into this oasis.” you comment, earning a look from your Mom as well. Your older brother's idiot laugh doesn't go unnoticed.

Your Dad raises his wine glass to his lips. “I don't feel like having a stroke at 39. Peter Pan and Wendy it is.” Despite the child-like film, you all cheer as he hits play. Finally you start to dig into the meal your Mom, with the help of little Patton, made.

After you all finish eating, your dad pauses the film. You and Nicky carry the dishes to the dishwasher, load and start it, before making your way back to the living room. Your parents are curled up together and you take the spot on the other side of your dad, while he wraps an arm around you, the boys pile up on the mountain of blankets covering the floor.

As he plays the movie, you find your mind wandering to last night. To what you did in the hot tub at Tanneyhill. To Rafe fucking Cameron. Part of you felt guilty about messing with Roman’ s cousin and lying to your Mom, but the other part of you was burning. Burning to feel his hands on you again, burning to feel that intense pleasure over and over, and burning to know more. And then there was an even smaller part that wanted to know what such an intimate thing would feel like with Roman.

Even though you were still pissed at him for a number of reasons. You never made it back to Rafe’s room last night.

⊱✿⊰

“You're sleeping in my room tonight, gorgeous girl.”

You giggle quietly as he opens the back door and carries you the few steps across the kitchen, to plop you down on the island. “Want some water or something?”

You swing your legs back and forth, feeling the effects of the alcohol you'd been consuming since you got here. “Yes, please.” You turn your head momentarily towards the doorway as you hear light footsteps upstairs. You brush it off, enjoying your inebriated break from everyone else in the world but the man who just made you cum on his lap.

Rafe grabs two waters and comes back to stand between your legs. He moved nervously, you noted. He looked at you, like really looked at you, as he handed you a water bottle. “You okay? How are you feeling after... well- after everything tonight?”

“I'm good, Rafe. I had.. fun.” You reassure him with a small smile, unsure how to phrase it but wanting to reassure him. Which is still more than Roman bothered to do for you.

He gives you his signature panty dropping, schoolboy smirk. His tone is still nervous, however. “So it was okay? I mean, that it was me?” He slides his hands up your thighs coming to rest them on your hips. You could feel a flush of heat creeping up from where he’d just touched your thighs making its way all the way to your cheeks.

“Yes, Rafe.” You manage to say. His touch is intoxicating, his eyes captivating. You find your arms wrapping around his neck, hands burying themselves in his soft, dark blonde hair. “It was better than okay.”

He leans in to plant a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips before leaning back slightly and catching your eye. You tug him towards you and his lips meet yours devotedly. He pulls you closer to the edge, your bodies meeting again, chest to chest. He bites your swollen bottom lip and separates from you only to tilt his head and kiss you even deeper.

His hands move to grip the sides of your ass and you whine against his lips, causing him to grip you harder. Still chasing the feeling he gave you outside, you push your crotch against his as best as you can from your place on the counter.

“Y/N.” He keens,”I'm never gonna get enough of you.” Rafe buries his face in your neck, leaving warm and wet kisses, leaving his hands to grope your sides.

Lost in the lust washing over you, you both hear the telltale pad of multiple pairs of feet, too late.

“Oh shit” A giggle. “Dude!” Disgust.

“What the fuck?” Anger.

Your head whips over to see three shocked teens standing at the entrance of the kitchen with varying reactions. Rafe slowly lifts his head but doesnt look away from you. Your mouth opens and closes, floundering for words. You look between the three and Rafe as you push him away and jump off of the counter.

Nicky and Mia are slowly starting to snicker, but Roman is just staring at you with disbelieving eyes. The other girl is nowhere to be seen.

“Okay, now this. This makes more sense.” Nicky laughs, referring to this morning when your parents caught you and Roman in your bed, asleep.

“Looks like you have a date to midsummers now, Y/N.” Mia comments with a raised brow.

You remain frozen, aside from your bottom lip wobbling and you biting it in a second attempt to keep your tears at bay tonight. How many times can one girl be humiliated in a day? You don't even want to look back at Romans face.

Rafe eyes your wobbly lip and reaches for you, tugging your hand into his. “Hey, wanna go to sleep now?”

“What the fuck is this? What's happening right now?” You look up from your entwined hands, at Romans dubious tone.

“Roman-”

“Come outside, Y/N.” He walks past you both, through the doors you just entered from, ignoring Mia calling his name on the way out.

You inhale a deep shaky breath. Your brother casts Mia a clueless, questioning glance, which she ignores as she's focused on examining you and Rafe. “I should...” You trail off as Rafe squeezes your hand softly, meeting his eyes.

“Its okay. I'll talk to him later, yeah?” He places a quick peck to your head.

“Y/N, what's going on? I feel like I'm missing something.” Your brother comments quizzically.

Rafe moves to usher them out of the kitchen, “Later , man.” You hear him mutter quietly to Nicky, who meets your gaze one more time before turning back to the den area. Mia lingers a second as you squeeze and shake your hands out, nervously.

“He’s never gonna get it together. Not for you, princess. Listen to Rafe, maybe that way you can stop stepping on people's toes and you won't get hurt.” Mia says the words quietly, but her tone of voice makes it clear that it's a threat. She smiles at you and follows in the direction of two older boys, while you do your best to ignore her and choke down all of the unpleasant feelings building up and make your way to the patio doors.

When you open the door, you immediately see Roman sitting on the porch swing with his head back, looking up at the sky with his usual pout. He doesn't move, or say anything so you walk over to him and sit down. Anxiety wracks your body, as you prepare to inevitably have an uncomfortable encounter with the bipolar boy you called your best friend.

You risk a glance at him and are alarmed to see moisture pooling in his eyes, “Roman.” You whisper. “Hey, I-”

“What was that?” He sits up and turns to face you.”Just- what the hell was that?”

Your eyes widen a little at the intensity of his behaviour. He takes one of your hands in his and looks at you expectantly. “Was that just you guys being dumb, or was that -” He stutters for a second and then takes a deep breath. “Or was that something more?”

“I dont know.” The truth, you were too drunk to decipher your current feelings toward Rafe.

“What?” He scoffs. “I just caught you making out with my cousin,Y/N, and youre saying you don't know why?” He drops your hand, and faces forward, rubbing his eyes in frustration. Your eyes narrow at him. He was the one who'd failed to verbally recognize the fact that something definitely happened between you two. He's been avoiding it hardcore for the past month or so.

“No, Roman, I don't. Besides, you didn't catch me doing anything.” You snap. “The word ‘catch’ implies that i’m in trouble, and I can do whatever I fucking want, technically. Nobody else seems to give a damn about my feelings.” You run your hands through your messy hair. Maybe you shouldn't have thrown that in his face but at the moment, he was pissing drunk you off.

The lanky boy looks at you with ferocity lurking beneath his incredulous expression. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Use your fucking context clues.” You cuss back.

He just stares at you as you attempt to avoid looking him in the eyes. For a second it seems like he's going to finally acknowledge the kiss you shared, weeks ago. You see the recognition in his features for a fraction of a second before he’s up, pacing. “You're ridiculous. Seriously, if you think Rafe is gonna commit to you, or treat you well for that matter.”

Your mouth falls open in shock when you hear Rafes name come out of Romans mouth. He didn't just blatantly deflect the topic of conversation, did he? Bastard.

“Jesus, have you lost your mind? You know what kind of person he is, Y/N. I thought you were smarter than that.” He pinches the bridge of his nose as he spews his bullshit.

You take his dramatic, silent irritation as an invitation to add fuel to the fire, fed up with his week-long diversions from the underlying issue in your friendship. “Yeah, well, at least he didn't kiss me and then pretend it never happened.” You stand up and cross your arms defiantly.

Roman sighs a deep, shaky breath of air. “Y/N... Jesus. You really wanna do this, huh?” You look up, toeing the area of grass you'd just been staring at. His face, his eyes, his whole demeanour are pleading with you to stop. “It was my first kiss, Roman.”

He shuts his eyes for a second and you watch as his breathing becomes a little heavier. When he opens them, he starts toward your teary eyed figure but you step back and he stops in his tracks. “Y/N, i'm so sorry. I didn't know that.”

You nod, tears spilling over your waterline and cascading down your cheek into the ground. Where you wish you could disappear. You ignore the pain in your heart. You ignore the way this feels like a friendship ending argument. You ignore his own tears as they begin to meet yours in the soil.

“I know.” You sniffle, you didn't want to punish him. You don't even know what you want from this conversation. This isn't a good idea, you're drunk. You can't ignore the wave of anxiety that hits you, completely out of nowhere. “I just can't do this, Rome.”

You start to back up, but he follows you. “Do what?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and uncross your arms to instead wrap them around yourself. After a breath, you open them. Roman looks regretful. “Do what,Y/N?”

Be your friend, Is what you wanted to say.

“I can't see you right now.” Is what you say.

You turn around before he has time to see your face completely crumble. Panic, anxiety, and heart ache all fight for dominance over the sob working its way up your throat. You swallow it down and go find Nicky. You wouldn't be staying in Rafes room tonight.

⊱✿⊰

By the end of the movie, your two youngest siblings are asleep. With Olivia having every Sunday off, you and Nicky fold up the blankets quietly talking about the film. Meanwhile, your Parents had each carried a sibling to bed to be tucked in. You grab a stack of blankets and carry them into the hall to put away in the linen closet. When you come back to the living room, your Mom is refilling your parents wine glasses, preparing to watch another movie with your Dad.

Nicky makes eye contact with you and widens his eyes slightly, insinuating something up.

“Ah, the gangs all here. Good. Sit.” Your Dad walks into the den and clasps his hands quietly.

You and Nicky both sit down on a loveseat near the front door and exchange a look. Your parents only do these little meetings to drop big news.

“So, nothing major but Wednesday night you're both expected to be home early for dinner. We're having guests over and there's a surprise involved.”

Nicky groans,”Mom, please. If you're pregnant again, I'm getting emancipated.”

You scoff out a laugh at your brother's blatant statement, before covering it up as a cough when you get a look from your Mom.

“Dominique.” Your father deadpans. “If your mom is pregnant, I’ll take you all and run. It isn't that.”

Your mom downs her wine. “This is why they don't have respect, Joseph.”

Your Dad gives her a warm grin and wraps her up under his arm. “Like I said, just be home early for dinner. Understood?”

You and Nicky ultimately agree without too much prying for details. After bidding your Parents goodnight, you both make your way upstairs. Your brother stops at your door as you enter your room and leans against the doorframe. “So....” He trails off and you roll your eyes as you search through your dresser for a large Tshirt, settling on one that Roman left here.

“Yes, Nicky?”

“What happened last night? I saw you mackin’ on Rafe but why was Roman so mad?” He walks further into your room and plops on your bed.

“Nicky!” You whine, batting at him with the t-shirt in your hands. “Get the hell off my blankets, you went outside in that outfit!”

It's Nicky's turn to roll his eyes at your rules, as he dramatically rolls off of your bed onto a pile of laundry on the floor, stretching out like a starfish. “Whatever. So what happened? I noticed that you stayed at the house all day. And kinda have been for a while.” He adds.

You let out a dramatic sigh of despair and slide down your dresser so that you're sitting facing your bed. “I’m so dumb, Nicky. I think I fucked up.”

He sits up on his elbows, facing you. “Wait, what? What's the matter?”

You contemplate telling him everything for a moment. What's the worst that could happen? Then you think back to the last time you asked yourself that question, and any ideas of total honesty dissipate. “I don't know...” and then, you remember. “What did you mean when you said that me and Rafe made sense?”

He sits up all the way and musses his hair. “I don't know, I was drunk, Y/N. I guess I always just assumed you’d rebel against Mom and Dad. Rafe would make sense for that. More sense than your childhood best friend.”

"Me and Rafe are friends, too.” You point out, although you know it's not the same.

“Not like you and Roman.”

You contemplate this quietly. Nicky comes over to where you're sitting and plants himself beside you.

“Listen sis, I don't know what the hell is going on, but you can tell me if I need to kick someone's ass. I won't ask questions.”

You shake your head sadly. ”It's not like that. I just did a dumb thing and now I have to live with it.”

Your older brother stands up and ruffles your hair. “Well, that's nothing new, is it? Goodnight Y/N/N.”

“Goodnight, Nicky.”

He shuts your door and you change into your shirt before turning on your fan and hopping in bed.

After about 15 minutes of staring at your ceiling, trying to make sense of your feelings, you were over it. You were agonising over whether or not to check your phone for a text from Roman and beating yourself up over what happened with Rafe. You flip over and grab the TV remote. Deciding to listen to something scary, you settle on a rerun of the Paranormal Activity films and turn back over, letting the TV lull you to sleep.

Not 10 minutes later, when you're almost out like a light, does your phone begin ringing quietly on the nightstand. You register the noise and flail under the covers, frustratedly. You snatch your phone up and accept the call, barely registering the name on the screen.

“What?” You almost growl.

“Wow, hello to you too, beautiful.” Rafe’s deep voice rings through the speaker.

“Do not disturb means do not disturb, not call twice, Rafe.” You can't help your tone, your anxiety keeps you up most nights, and you were so close to ending the night on a good note, moments before.

“I'm sorry, I’d take any option that guaranteed your attention.” He laughs.” Did I wake you up?”

“Yes actually.” You sigh, readjusting your covers from the flail. “Did you need something?” “Can I come over?”

“Seriously, Rafe? Its-” You pull your phone away from your cheek and look at the time, faltering.

“Only 9 P.M.? Exactly.” You can hear his smug face over the phone. “So?”

You feel queasy at the thought of seeing Rafe, despite being so explicit with him the night before. It felt like a betrayal to Roman in a way because you two hadn’t spoken since the fight last night where he expressed his disapproval of Rafe and you together. Although a small part of you doesn't care about his opinion, after his blatant disregard for your feelings.

“I don't think that's a great idea, Rafe, my parents are awake downstairs.” You try.

He’s quiet for a second, and then there's an incoming facetime from him. You answer the call and you see Rafe sitting up, shirtless, against his headboard. He has to fight his smile, seeing you laying on your side, hair cascading around your shoulder like a waterfall of curls.

“Is it because of last night?”

You mentally smack yourself for answering a call where he can see your face. Rafe always knew when you were lying. When you guys were 12 and 13, you covered for him when he broke one of Wards Golf awards and he figured out that you had a tell. You couldn't make eye contact.

“W-what?”

“The real reason you don't want to see me.” He says in a bored tone. “Is it because of Roman?”

“No.” You roll your eyes.

“Dont lie to me, Y/N.” The dominant tone he's taking right now has you rethinking your previous statements.

“Fine, yeah. It Is, Rafe.” Pulling the covers up to your chin. “He’s one of my best friends, and you're his cousin. It feels weird that things are like this. I can't stop thinking about that stupid fight.”

You hear shuffling on Rafe’s end and then the sound of keys.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm comin over.” You start to protest but he cuts you off. “I'm gonna take your mind off of it.”

He ends the call and you're left staring at the screen dumbfounded. Now that he’s ended the call, you see a whole slew of texts and missed calls from John B and Kie, and even JJ asking you to join in on the boat day they had today. Nothing from Roman. He was usually always the first to cave after an argument, seeking you out almost every time. The lack of contact, admittedly worried you.

You sigh, sitting up in bed now. There are so many questions swirling around in your head. What was Roman thinking about? Was he still angry with you? What was Rafe thinking about? Was he going to try something? How were you supposed to hide yet another boy in your room without invoking your Mothers anger? More importantly though, how did you look right now?

You spring up and run to the ensuite bathroom. Your hair, once pinned up with a claw clip, now falls loosely around you with flyaway curlies everywhere and you wore only Roman’s T Shirt and a pair of boy short panties as makeshift PJs. You pull your clip out and stare at the excess tendrils of hair falling around you, trying to finger comb them down.

“Is it even worth it, for real?” You ask yourself as you eye the brush that would no doubt make your situation worse. Deciding that, no, it isn't worth it, you grab your mouthwash and gargle a mouthful before spitting it out, rinsing your mouth, and washing your face.

Back in your room, you realise how hot and stuffy it is. You unlock the balcony doors that face the ocean, so that Rafe can get inside. Then you pad across the floor and unlatch your bedroom window, going to open it for the breeze but nearly screaming out loud as it's pushed open, seconds later. “Ahh!”

Rafes hand shoots out to cover your mouth as he precariously balances himself between your windowsill and the branch he's perched on. He gives you an exasperated look. “Jesus, I literally live 5 minutes away. Move.”

You clutch your chest and take a step back just as he pushes off of the branch and pulls himself through the window. “Why didn't you just climb onto the balcony, you could've fallen.” You comment as he steadies himself.

Rafe examines your face, stepping closer. “Your Mom had all the trees near it cut down, remember?”

You’d forgotten about that. As soon as you turned 15 your Mom had to escape-proof your room because of an incident involving a party, a week prior. Which included cutting down the trees near your balcony and removing the garden trellis that crept up right beside it, leaving only an old oak tree beside the window that was across from your bedroom door. “Oh, right.”

You back up and sit on the edge of your bed, patting the spot next to you. Rafe pushes his hair off of his forehead as he takes a seat. The sound of the movie playing is all that can be heard as you both quietly observe each other. He looks really good in his simple blue tee and basketball shorts, and you can't help the natural, girly giddiness you feel.

“You look really pretty.” he starts.

Letting out a small laugh, “Shut up. I look like I was about to go to sleep. You look good though.” You go to smack his chest playfully, but he catches your hand.

“You're still the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart flutters a little at his words, but you quell it and withdraw your hand slowly. One thing Rafe and his cousin had in common was their notoriety as two of the island's biggest playboys. “Don't say things you don't mean, Rafe.”

Rafe smiles at you knowingly, yet you don't know why. “Remember when we were like...” He thinks about it. “I was 9 and you were 8. We were playing hide and seek with a bunch of other kids at Olivia’s garden party?” He questions.

You remember. You’d gotten locked into the old outdoor cellar, while trying to use it as a hiding spot. You'd been locked in for what felt like hours as you plotted a way out, the music and ongoing party drowning out your cries. As a kid you remember thinking you’d be down there forever, You nod, telling Rafe to go on.

“You had all the other kids going crazy, we all thought you’d gotten kidnapped but we were too scared to tell anyone.” He chuckles at the memory. “But then you walked around the side of the house covered in dirt and I remember being so happy to see you. Even though you were crying and looked like a mess, running for your parents. You were the prettiest girl to me then. You're still that same girl, now.”

You make a face, scrunching your nose. “Why is my near death experience such a significant memory for you? I could've died, digging that little tunnel under the door.”

“But you didn't.” He laughs, ruffling your hair. “Jesus, you suck at accepting compliments.”

“Yeah, well, you kinda suck at giving them.” You smack his hands away, smoothing your mussed hair. His eyes shoot to your bare legs as your T-shirt rides up. Then they flick up to scrutinise the shirt itself and you wonder if he’ll mention anything about its owner.

Instead he tugs at the hem of it with a sudden mischievous glint in his eyes. “Anything under here?”

You blush. “Rafe, shut up.” You weren't expecting Rafe to be here right now in the first place. In fact, you'd tried to avoid it. Just because you guys got drunk and fooled around didn't mean you suddenly were into Rafe. That's just what teenagers do, right? Yeah, he may look like a god and he always smells good but you didnt wanna risk your friendship with him or Roman further.

“Make me.”

His fingers slip past the hem, teasing their way up your thighs. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you swear you stop breathing. But when his fingers brush too close to your clothed pussy, you snatch at his wrist and he looks up at your face, fingers frozen over your core.

“Rafe, what do you want?”

“Honestly?” You nod, matching his heavy eye contact.

“I just wanna make you feel good, baby. ” He inches his face closer to yours, while you slowly start to forget why you stopped him. “Right now I really want to make you cum on my fingers.” He only breaks eye contact as he presses his lips against yours roughly. You loosen your grip on his wrist, your inhibitions melting at his actions.

He takes the opportunity to press his thumb against your clit, eliciting a soft whine into his mouth. Your breaths mingle together, hearts beginning to race in sync with the electric tension that's filling the air.

Rafe cradles your face gently in one hand, fingertips tracing the delicate lines of your jaw as your tongues swirl against each other. His warm touch causes a shiver to go down your spine and he smirks into the kiss. You feel his heartbeat against your chest as he lowers you onto the bed, his fingers stroking you over your panties.

“Rafe,” You coo against his soft lips. “Keep touching me there.”

“Yeah, Princess? Like this?” Rafe drags his thumb around your clit in circles, increasing the pressure. Your hips grind involuntarily towards his hand as you nod, a moan escaping your lips.

“Shhh, be quiet.” He presses another short kiss to your lips, letting go of your face to yank your shirt up to your belly and focus his gaze on his handiwork.

Rafe continues to tease you, your panties preventing you from feeling his skin. He looks up at you, watching your reaction as he ghosts his fingers over your entrance again. You were suddenly filled with a longing for something more - an indefinable desire that was rooted in your core, and it made you shiver with pleasure.

Rafe smiles smugly as he watches you, his gaze tender yet smouldering. He leans forward and kisses you, your mouths exploring each other with an intensity that takes your breath away. With each kiss, your concerns about Roman faded away, replaced by something new and exciting and unbearably sweet.

When he finally pulls away, Rafe drags his hand away from your pussy to brush lightly against your hips, tracing a gentle line along the curve of your waist. You shiver again, skin prickling with pleasure as he moves his hands lower.

To your surprise his fingers lace between yours, and he gently tugs you towards him. “Do you want me to keep touching you, baby?” You nod desperately, extremely flushed. “Can you keep quiet?”

You nod again and before you can protest his fingers are in your panties. He teases you slowly, and his breathing becomes heavier. You're lost in a world of sensation as his thumb finds your clit again, beginning to create blissful, swirling patterns.

His fingers slowly trail lower, to your entrance, and you can feel your body responding to his touch, almost dripping over his fingers. Your skin is alive with a pleasure you've never felt before.

Rafe groans while you throw your head back as he begins pushing his index and middle fingers inside of you, the stretching sensation too intense for you to take it. You grab at his forearm as he begins pumping his fingers in and out of you, the heat from his touch making you moan.

”W-ait.” You attempt to push his arm away but he holds you in place with his free arm, his pace becoming more insistent. The painful stretch begins to fade into something much more pleasurable.

“Let me make you feel good,Y/N.”

Rafe moves his fingers at a quick pace, repeatedly stroking against your G-spot until you're a whining, moaning mess. As you begin to feel yourself nearing an orgasm, you silently beg him to stop before you could release, as if that would make this any better. Rafe, however, seemed to be enjoying your reaction and continued his assault, his fingers sliding deeper and faster.

You felt your entire body ignite with a pleasure that was both overwhelming and exquisite. Your hands find his shirt and you ball it up in your fists, feeling yourself release, squirting on his hand and your covers. You’re screaming muffled profanities into Rafes palm as your orgasm finally engulfs you. Your body goes limp with relief, your breathing ragged as you lie there, trembling.

Rafe withdraws his fingers and sits up, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. You lay there for a few moments, trying to process what just happened. You felt embarrassed and ashamed, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the pleasure you had just experienced. As you slowly sit up, fixing your panties, Rafe's smirk widens.

"That was quite the experience, hmm?" he says in a smug voice.

You could feel your cheeks flush and you quickly look away, your heart pounding with a mix of emotions. Rafe leans closer and puts his hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him. "Hey, It's okay," he says softly. "You don't have to be embarrassed. I'm just glad I made you feel that good. That was fun right?"

You nodded, your face still flushed with embarrassment. You look away again, not wanting to meet his gaze. ‘It's just that... I didn't expect it to feel that way. I'm kind of overwhelmed. Sorry if that sounds stupid.”

Rafe pulls you into his chest and wraps an arm around you. “It doesn't sound stupid. I get it, I've never seen a girl squirt before, either. I'm sorry if that was too much.”

You roll your eyes, as he can't see you, at his boyish thoughts. "It's fine, Rafe.” You pull away from Rafes hug and stare at your carpet awkwardly. Sensing your hesitance he looks away from you nonchalantly, “You tired?”

Seeing the question as an out, you meet his eyes and nod, feeling the atmosphere in the room change. His smile is small, disappointed. “I'll see you tomorrow then? Or Wednesday?” You furrow your eyebrows. “The dinner that your parents are hosting..?”

You remember your Dads statement earlier, the dinner and the surprise. “Oh, okay yeah. You're coming?”

“Yeah, So are Olivia and Roman.” Rafe replies as he stands up, wiping his cum covered hands on his shorts. You internally cringe at how awkward this interaction is turning out to be. It's your fault, you have to fucking ruin everything. You nod your head as if you aren't mentally cursing yourself out. “But hey, Y/N?”

You meet his expectant stare. “Yeah?”

He kisses your forehead before backing towards your window, smirking as he opens it once again. “I took your mind off of it, didn't I?” And with that he's gone.

⊱✿⊰

He did not, in fact, take your mind off of it.

Two hours later, you're still awake, staring at your ceiling fan trying to drown out the negative thoughts eating you alive. You had a tendency to overthink, and with that came anxiety. The best remedy for your anxiety was alcohol, which not only did you not have access too at the moment, but it also caused you to make dumb bitch decisions, occasionally. You couldn't help but crave it anyways.

You felt incredibly guilty and even ashamed that you let things go that far with Rafe, especially given the fact that he didn't seem to be concerned about your actual feelings about it.

As the minutes go by and sleep evades you, you give up rolling over to pick up your silenced phone. You have a slew of unanswered notifications but one name immediately catches your attention. Sitting up in bed you click on the notification, fast as shit.

45 Minutes Ago

Romeo: Jelli bbeen

Romeo: com to our beecfh

Rome: Plz im srory

Fuck, I'm a horrible person, you instantly hit the call button, knowing that he’s drunk off of his ass. When the call goes to voicemail straight away, you hop out of bed and throw on a pair of shorts and crocs, slipping quietly out of your room determined to go make sure he's okay.

You pause at the top of the stairs, listening for the sound of your parents, when you hear nothing you creep down the carpeted stairs slowly.

FInally reaching the back door, you slide it open as quietly as you can and creep outside. Shutting it behind you, you turn around to walk towards Romans house when you spot a figure, down on the beach, near your family's dock.

You curse under your breath and hurry towards the figure. As you near, you can clearly see Romans broad torso hunched over, one arm laying on his knee holding a bottle of Jack and the other stuck in his extremely messy hair.

“Rome.” You call softly so as not to startle him.

He raises his head slightly, back to you, but doesn't move otherwise. “Jellybean?”

“Yeah... it's me, what's going on Roman?” You put a hand on his shoulder, sitting down beside him. “What are you doing sitting out here? It's almost Midnight.”

Roman looks at you in a mixture of melancholy and clear intoxication. His lips twitch into a slight frown, as if he is going to cry, but only momentarily, before he takes a shot and hands you the bottle. You take it, gratefully. “I needed to see you, talk to you.” He’s slurring, dangerously. ”I really fucking hate what happened yesterday.”

Before you reply you take a shot too, and sigh. “Which part?”

“All of it. I really fucking hated it all, guppy.” He turns towards you, his demeanor slightly more defeated than a minute ago. He was naturally a manic person, but when he was drunk, he went from tough guy to busting out every pet name in the book in hopes of being babied. “Seeing Rafe touch you, seeing you like it.... us fighting.”

Your eyes widen, slightly. “What does that even mean, Roman?

Roman stares at you with his sad green eyes, dejectedly. “I want to fix it. I fucked up and I want to fix it.” He taps the bottle in your hand and you hold eye contact as you take another drink, passing it to him afterwards, him doing the same.

“It's not entirely your fault, Roman.” You let your eyes fall to the sand between you. You hated lying, but you didn't know what was going on in his head and telling him about Rafe being in your room, less than 3 hours ago, would possibly just serve to make him more upset. “I shouldn't have kissed Rafe.” You omit the part about you grinding and cumming on his dick, for Romans sake.

He grabs your hand in his and pulls you to scoot closer, you do. “Ya’guys only kissed cuz’ I never talked to you about us.” he says. “M’ sorry if I hurt you baby. I love you, Y/N. I really fucking love you.” He cups your face, dragging his thumbs across your cheeks.

You hold your breath, deja vu from a few weeks ago hits you square in the chest. This is exactly how he kissed you the first time. You've wanted to hear those words from him for weeks, hoping that he was secretly in love with you too, not while he was this heavily inebriated, however.

You gently grab his hands and squeeze them, lowering them so they are between you both. “Maybe we should talk about this in the morning, bubba?”

Roman's lip starts trembling, barely noticeable, at the nickname. “Y/N, no. You deserve an explanation, please let me explain.” He whines. “I do love you. It wasn't about you.” He looks at your joined hands for a moment before placing a kiss on your knuckles and peering hesitantly up into your eyes.

You couldn't help but want to hear him out. Your heart constricts as he begins speaking in a pained voice. “It's my Mom, Y/N. Shes fucking insane. Do you remember, 9th grade, I was with Allie Mcentyre?”

You nod, pensively. You'd been friends with Allie that year, because she was dating Roman, before she abruptly cut you off. Roman seemed not to care, so you didn't either. “Yeah before she ditched us.”

He grimaces. “She didn't ditch us, Y/N.” You furrow your eyebrows in question. “She was the first girl I ever brought around Mom, and the entire fucking time, she gaslit and- and lied an' manipulated both of us." Roman pauses as he hiccups, and gathers his words. "She would text her cryptic shit from my phone and then delete it so that it seemed like her angry texts were random, she’d tell her that she wasn't good enough for me and me the same. Allie told me she didnt want to see me anymore after my mom told her mom that I’d been having sex with multiple girls at a time.” He chuckles. “I was still a fucking virgin. She just wanted to ruin what I had. I realized she’s only going to let me be with someone that she chooses for me.”

“Roman...” Your mouth opens and shuts while you process your next words. “Im so fucking sorry, that I didnt know about that. That's literally insane.”

Roman chuckles drily, you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “It's okay, I didn't tell you.”

You squeeze him and pull away. "I shouldve been there for you, I'm sorry."

Roman shakes his head, placing a hand back on your cheek, thumb resuming its soft, delicate strokes. “No. I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve the way I treated you. I love you, jellybean, please don't be mad at me.”

You gently press your palm against his hand but this time you don’t remove it. “I could never stay mad at you, Roman. I love you too.” How could you ever be angry with this side of him? Nobody ever gets to see this side but you. The whiskey stupor you were beginning to feel caused you to zero in on the tall boy beside you.

His lazy, responsive smile is so boyish and sweet, it makes you buzz with desire, and briefly you recall wondering what it would feel like to do what you did with Rafe, with Roman instead. They are different in more ways than they were similar. Roman is hard and broken, but his pure heart radiates through the cracks, whereas Rafe was a tried and true asshole, though you had to confess you didn't know him as well as you knew the boy in front of you.

“Y/N?” Roman bites his lip and a slight frown forms between his brows as he glances down at your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

In lieu of answering, you tangle your hands in his hair and pull him to you, desperately connecting your lips. You caught Roman off guard but he quickly grabs ahold of your waist in his free hand, managing to hastily pull you onto his lap.

As your mouths slowly move together, a warm electrifying feeling spreads through you, time seems to slow down, allowing you to focus solely on his lips and the emotions they were making you feel. His hands find yours, intertwining them with his, solidifying the bond you two were experiencing.

You couldn't help but think about the way Rafe kissed you earlier, only in that his kiss was much less intimate, yet more hungry and physically intense. WIth Roman, it was a slow dance of tongues and lips meshing that made you soaked for him in a completely different way. You purposely rolled your hips over his and he groans, squeezing your joined hands. You break the kiss and lean back slightly, admiring the boy who has your heart.

“Hmm, baby?” His lips look a delicious, puffy red and his eyes are half lidded, he looks so sexy right now. Before you could help it, you’re grinding your pussy against his member again, both of you letting out satisfied moans at the friction. “Y/N, shit. What are you doing to me?”

The whiskey in your system has your body acting on its own, out of sexual frustration from the months of built up tension between you two, desperate to explore it with him. You just let his cousin finger fuck you. Fuck, two shots wouldn't be enough.

You pick up the bottle of Jack Daniels, resigned to the choices you were about to make, and downed two or three shots. You force yourself to ignore the burn, and Romans drunk, questioning gaze as you tipped his chin and poured some into his mouth. He shakes his head with a grimace, swallowing down the shitty tasting alcohol.

Without wasting a beat, you begin peppering kisses along his neck, and he lets out a spur of dirty, drunken noises from the back of his throat.

“Does that feel good?” You can't help but tease your clit along his clothed erection again, body moving intoxicatedly of its own free will, chasing the friction his shorts provided, as he struggles to answer and resigns to nodding. You move your mouth up to his ear, sucking softly on it before whispering, “Roman, I want you so bad, want you to fuck me.”

“Wh-” Instantly his hands are on your hips, pushing you slightly back. “Jellybean, what?” He seems almost instantly sobered as he examines your features. "I thought you were a virgin?” You flush at your own obviousness, feeling it even over the warmth of the alcohol coursing through you.

“Well... I mean, I am. But, I want you to be the first.” You grip onto the bottom of his shirt, glancing down, doing your best not to appear as the tipsy, desperate slut you feel like.

Roman sighs heavily, closing his eyes for a second, squeezing your hips gently. “Y/N, I dont know about you, but Im really fucked up right now.” You nod, still not looking up but he lowers his head, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I want it to be good for you. I want it to be special, not like this, pretty girl.”

Your eyes begin to well up quickly, in humility at the perceived rejection and you look out at the ocean, wiping at your tears before they can fall. “I'm sorry, Rome, I'm so stupid. I'm sorry.”

“Love, you aren't stupid. Believe me when I say I want this as bad as you.” Roman shocks you when he removes your hand, that's clutching his shirt, to place it on his hard length. “This is what you fucking do to me, baby. And when the time is right, I won't just be the first, I'll be the last too.” He gives you a lopsided smirk and a delicate kiss on the lips.

You offer him a small smile in response, he was being such sweetheart and you felt horrible. At the forefront of your clouded brain, you were desperate to replace Rafe's touch with Roman's as if it would erase your prior actions, but you shove it to the back, focusing on his reassurance. "Is that a promise?"

“Of course, it is. I know I've been so wrapped up in my own head, trying to keep everything...normal, but I don't want to do that anymore.” He pulls you close again and rests his forehead against yours. “I want this, baby. I want you.”

No, no, no. Roman, dont. Not right now. The guilt is going to crush you. You look down. “Will you be my girlfriend?” His hopeful eyes await yours.

You're quiet for a beat too long before you slowly look back into his expectant face. “I can't, Roman... my Dad. You know how he is.” It's bullshit, but he doesn't know it. Yeah your dad would have an aneurysm but you didn't care in the slightest. You had to make sure that Rafe wouldn't say anything about what you guys did, and break things off with him first, before you made an even bigger mess. Roman was wasted, he might not even remember this in the morning.

Romans face falls a bit at your words. He just promised to endure his mothers psychopathy for you and you wouldn't even return the favour? You hate the look that flashes across his face and hurry to reassure him. “I'll talk to him, okay? After dinner on Wednesday.”

He nods somberly, “Yeah, okay. If you want to.”

You grab his face and plant a kiss on his pouty lips. “I do, Romeo, don't worry. And I promise, I will.”

He laughs at that, loving the nickname. You made many mistakes, but you wouldn't let this be one of them. The feelings that the boy under you made you feel, compared to absolutely nothing else. At least that's what you keep telling yourself.

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taintandviolent · 6 months ago

Text

Little Mouth ; Roman Godfrey x Reader

summary: Reader has been working for Roman Godfrey for a month now as his personal assistant / secretary. Their interactions have been... mostly professional. That is, until Roman figures out that she has a blood kink. [PART TWO HERE!].

word count & w a r n i n g s: 3.1K | blood kink, blood consumption, (technically) blood as lube, unprotected sex, rough sex, finger sucking, biting (he is an upir afterall), mind control.

a/n: requested by @babygorewhore! feast, baby! my first RG fic, be gentle. I tried really hard to get his characterization right, so dahsdfekjdsafs. i hope everyone likes it! divider by @/strangergraphics!!

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

“You wanted to see me, sir?” The glass door shut behind you soundlessly. Almost everyone had gone from the Institute, you were always one of the last ones to leave, per Mr. Godfrey’s instructions.

“Sit down,” he demanded. He was in a mood today - you could tell. Plus, you’d heard him yelling at someone earlier, his temper flaring over some menial task. Your ass hit the leather seat before he could continue. You’d only been working for him for a month, but in that short time, you’d seen Roman’s very volatile nature. Whenever he didn’t get his way… simply put, he got it. You never wanted to be at the receiving end of his rage, far more keen on remaining on his good side, the side that made you his favourite employee. Or so you liked to think.

Pushing himself off the chair, he straightened his long legs, standing up and quickly rounding the corner of his desk, closing in the distance between the two of you. Although you were fully aware of how tall he was, when he stood next to you, his size never ceased to startle you. Additionally, with you sitting and him standing, the size difference was even more evident. This wasn’t the first time he’d been this close – Roman had a habit of always just being there when you least expected it – but it was the first time that you felt him press his hipbone against you, and the first time he reached forward to brush your silken locks off your shoulder.

You shivered against his touch, doing everything in your power not to drop your face into his large palm and whine against his skin, begging him to touch you again. You hated that you were so weak for him, but he had an unimaginable effect on you and had from the first day you met him. Which, you remembered, so clearly…

It had been raining, pouring actually, and by the time you got to Roman Godfrey’s office, you were drenched. A ‘wet rat of a secretary’ was a great first look. He’d smirked at your appearance, and made a flippant comment about arriving to work looking presentable, though judging by the way his eyes lingered on your clothing as it stuck to your body in all the right places, he wasn’t too put off. Despite you having three interviews for the position, as soon as you’d made it to his office, he’d interrogated you about your dedication to the position, asking bizarre questions about loyalty, claiming that you were, after all, his personal assistant.

Every time you tried to look away from him, he pulled you back wordlessly and those piercing green eyes held you tightly, like a rabbit in a wolf’s jaws.

“You like it, don’t you?”

Feigning innocence – something you know he picked up on – you raised your big, soft eyes to his, suckling your bottom lip delicately before speaking. Though, this time, you genuinely didn’t know what he was talking about. “Like what, Mr. Godfrey?”

“Stand up, Y/N.”

You stood, hands obediently clasped in front of your skirt. He liked ordering you around and did it often. Every time he did, your core clenched, arousal gripping your insides tightly. At risk of being unprofessional, you deeply loved the way he sounded when he said your name, demanding that you do this or that.

Without looking behind him, Roman reached for the letter opener on his desk, wrapping his long, lithe fingers around the handle. Holding it in front of your face, he jammed the meat of his thumb onto the sharp tip. Hot blood welled out from the small puncture and dribbled down the length of his thumb. Uncontrollably, your pupils dilated, watching as the blood streamed. How had he figured that out? You tried to remember all the times you’d spoken, and a devious blood kink was never a topic of conversation. Suddenly, it hit you. Last week.

You had an armful of files, ready to plant them on Roman’s desk. You shouldered open the door, and he stood there, in front of his desk, dragging his hand underneath his nose; a deep streak of crimson was left in its place. You felt your heart rate quicken, watching as the blood smeared onto his hand. You couldn’t help but stare, you have always been so fascinated with blood. The thought of it turned you on, though you’d never admit that out loud.

Roman brought you back to reality by dragging his thumb across your bottom lip, smearing the warm crimson across your already pink lips. Your bodies were flush against each other, and the steel grip he had on you ached. Roman’s nostrils flared; even his own, the smell of it drove him crazy.

Another second passed, and he was devouring you. You gasped into the kiss; there was nothing subtle or slow about the way he was kissing you – literally, chewing and sucking and scrubbing his tongue over your lips, removing every trace of his own blood from your mouth. You were out of breath almost immediately, and forced out a hard breath, pressing your tongue against his, feeling the wet muscle react and tangle with yours.

Suddenly, Roman’s teeth bit down on the plushness of your bottom lip and iron flooded your mouth. The taste of your blood mixed with whatever was left on his tongue was metallic and heady, and you moaned into his mouth, unable to withhold it any longer. You were almost disgusted with yourself, craving the taste of blood like some starved, unhinged, horror-movie vampire, but the way that he kissed and tasted you had your cunt throbbing beneath your red satin underwear.

His hand gripping the nape of your neck hard, Roman pulled you away from his mouth, looking pointedly at you. Those big green eyes… you whimpered, craning back towards him. He responded by stretching his neck away, almost as if he was annoyed with your desperation.

“You fucking like it, don’t you?”

You nodded, hot and breathless.

“Say it. I want to hear those words leave that little mouth.”

“I…” you wavered, unsure.

“You’re going to be honest with me.” Roman’s eyes bored into yours, enveloping you. A hazy warmth blanketed you, to where all you could feel was confidence bubbling up in your chest; it surged through you like a wave, drowning out all other thoughts. Even if you’d wanted to think of something else, you somehow… couldn’t. “I fucking like it. I want more of it.”

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

“Yes. I have since I started working for you.” Your voice was laced with lust and desperation, despite being surprised that you had just admitted all that to him. Surely, that could get you fired. You were usually so meek, so timid, always polite. If Roman ever stared a little too long, you’d blush and look back to whatever busy work was on your desk. You weren’t the type to just openly say your innermost thoughts… until now, apparently.

After searching your eyes for a moment, Roman’s lips were back on yours, his demanding tongue forcing its way into your mouth again, and you whimpered, throwing both your arms around his neck to hoist yourself closer to him. You finally had him and you weren’t letting go. It didn’t matter to you that he was your boss, you’d been waiting weeks for this kind of attention. You’d dreamt about it; thinking about the warm, inviting way he’d taste. Though, your dreams hardly compared to the way that he actually tasted. You tried to come up with some poetic description, but all you could think of was… blood. And sex.

Mimicking your interest, his arms wrapped around you, strong hands feverishly moving from your hips, to your breasts, to your ass. One hand drifted to your legs, fingers trailing up and around one of your thighs until they reached your warm mound. Effortlessly, the pad of his middle finger found your slit, stroking it lightly over the slickened fabric.

“Fuck, please!” Your lips disconnected from him to moan loudly, as your hips bucked into his hand. Roman responded, enveloping your cunt in his palm. He gripped her, massaging the ball of his hand against her, while the tips of his fingers pushed against your opening, still restricted by the fabric. At the threat of penetration, a mewling whine erupted from your throat.

Roughly, Roman ripped your blouse apart. The buttons flew somewhere, never to be found again, and you gasped, feeling exposed. But oh… it would only get worse. He backed away from you, watching silently. His gaze was cold and unreadable, but the corners of his mouth were upturned in the faintest smile. “Take it off. Take it all off. Now.”

Desperate to have him back in your arms, you got to work, shrugging the silk blouse from your shoulders, and unclasping your bra from behind. Just as he’d thought; you wore a bra with no padding, only satin fabric. The Institute was kept fairly cold for obvious reasons, and your nipples were always poking through your thin blouses. You let your breasts fall free while Roman watched, hungrily devouring you with his eyes, his pink lips pursed, and pushing forward slightly. His fingers reached to your chest, ghosting over your cleavage. You undid the zipper of your skirt, letting it fall to the floor. Now, in nothing but your red underwear and your heels, you were almost entirely exposed. The chill of the room met your skin, leaving goose flesh over every exposed inch.

He was suddenly gone from your line of sight, leaving nothing but your pathetic whimper in its place. Behind you, you heard him return to his desk, swiftly opening up a drawer and retrieving something. You didn’t dare turn around; he hadn’t told you to. You heard a drawer slide shut quietly. Then, he was in front of you again, a blood bag pinched tauntingly between his thumb and forefinger.

With a hint of smirk, Roman set the bag next to you on the desk, and pulled his shirt from his trousers before unbuttoning each button, and throwing the shirt off his shoulders. Your eyes widened, taking in their fill of his body. He was slender, but muscular, and his torso seemed to go on forever. He retrieved the bag, allowing it sway in front of your face. The bodily liquid inside was thick and tempting.

“I brought it from the storage room,” he explained, unclipping the bottom of it. Red flowed through the tiny tube, and without hesitating, Roman brought it to his lips, letting it dribble over his mouth and chin. Your jaw dropped; you were in awe of the visual in front of you – your cunt clenched, your slick had fully soaked your underwear at this point, and the ache that was buried deep inside your walls was screaming to be found.

Inside, Roman felt the fiery lust blossoming. His cock was hard and his hunger had been piqued, a lethal combination. You’d been coyly toting yourself around the Institute for the past month, with your perky tits and bouncy little ass – he’d had enough. Roman brought the bag above your chest, and squeezed the plastic between his fist, letting the stream coat your tits in the sanguine nectar. It flowed over your nipples and down the curve of your stomach in thin, red tendrils before disappearing into the fabric of your underwear.

Now covered in blood, Roman’s lithe fingers cupped your tits, smearing the blood over your hard nipples. He leaned down, and swept his tongue up from the meaty curve of one of your breasts up to your collarbone, his tongue leaving a clean trail behind him, repeating the action over and over again, suckling at the hollows of your collarbones. He was consuming so much blood… your thoughts drifted for a moment before Roman realized, and took your face in his blood-stained hand, pinching your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger.

“You’re going to focus on me, stop fucking going somewhere else.”

“I’m…”

“You’re a good little secretary who is going to do whatever I tell her.”

You nodded eagerly, your pupils dilated and locked on him. There was that haze again, the warm, comforting haze that wrapped its invisible arms around you, guiding you to only feel what Roman instructed you to feel.

“Back up, against the desk.” You took a few steps blindly backwards until the meat of your ass hit the edge of his desk.

Bloodied, Roman leaned forward to kiss you again, urging you further against the edge of the desk while he busied his hands with undoing his suit pants. Once undone, he pulled his aching cock free and roughly yanked your panties over the curve of your hips, exposing your cunt.

“Fuck, you’re so wet...” he murmured, his bloody finger slipping between your folds to come in contact with your wet, puffy clit. He traced small circles on it, immediately bringing your sensitivity up to dangerous levels. Your legs quivered, feet making tiny little steps to try to writhe away from him. “You really do have a thing for this, don’t you? Such a whore.”

Your cheeks flushed at his words, though you couldn’t deny them. You nodded again, looking down at his hand buried between your legs, unable to formulate words with how he was pleasuring you. His jaw clenched, the muscles feathering on the side of his face. The smell of the blood and your cunt was intoxicating, and hit his nostrils hard. He needed you and he needed you now.

“Look at me.” He instructed, purposefully distracting you as he lined his dick up with your waiting slit.

Giving you no time to prepare, Roman slammed his cock into you, bottoming out. Your expression was one of pain and pleasure, dangerously mixed. He paused briefly to revel in the sensation of your sopping cunt clenching around his shaft, but quickly backed his hips up, all the way until only his tip remained inside, then dropped his chin to his chest to watch the erotic display as he plunged back in. You wrapped your legs around his waist, opening your cunt up further for him.

“Moan. Loud.” His voice was deeper, huskier than before and his darkened eyes were glued to you.

You did. Louder than you ever had, probably. With each thrust, your fingernails raked along his bare back, leaving slender red lines in the skin. He pushed his cock into you over and over again, his length punishing you in ways that you’d never imagined. The throbbing tip hit your cervix repeatedly and your eyes rolled back in your head, your back arching up. His hands slipped underneath you, long fingers tracing your bare spine delicately, almost. The juxtaposition of how cruelly he was fucking you and his gentle touches had your head spinning. You sucked in a breath and moaned it out, leaning your head back against his desk. You’d never been fucked like this, and suspected that unless it was with Roman, you never would be again.

Still keeping his rhythm, Roman reached for the almost empty blood bag again, and held it above both of your bodies. As the stream ran down his bare chest and dribbled onto your stomach and your cunt, you lifted your head, looking at him dazedly and half-lidded. You were covered in blood, and so was he. It was a mess, but the mess drove your arousal forward, the scent of sweat, sex and iron filling the frigid room.

He was fucking you silly, and all you could do was lay back and take it. Without saying a word, but keeping his cold, green gaze on you, he brought the tube to his mouth and squeezed, sucking the rest of it out. You looked at him like it was the most normal thing in the world, even though it wasn’t. You moaned again, feeling the coil in your core winding tighter and tighter. Your orgasm was threatening, and every thrust brought you closer to that white, hot edge. Your body was crying out to let go, and come all over his long, punishing cock.

You gasped. “Mr. Godfrey… fuck… fuck I’m going to….”

With a slick pop, Roman withdrew his cock and slapped it against your swollen, tender clit a few times before sinking back into you, your hips shuddering. He reached to the side, scooping up some of the blood that had leaked from the bag onto the table. Abruptly, he brought his coated fingers to your mouth, forcibly pushing them past the obstruction of your lips, the blood smearing into the corners of your mouth. “Suck them.”

You took his middle and ring finger into your mouth willingly, though he still pushed them against your tongue harshly, the tips hitting the back of your throat. Immediately, the metallic taste was so potent, it almost made you gag, but you withheld, your throat clenching around his fingertips. He thrust into you hard, the friction of his body rubbing against your clit drove you over the edge. You screamed, your legs quivering around him as your cunt pulsated, squeezing him tightly inside of you.

“Good girl...”

At that visual, his cock twitched inside you, and his once rhythmic pace was erratic. As he emptied into you, painting your walls with his cum, he gripped you so hard that you cried out, jerking forward against his chest. For a moment, your eyes were tainted with fear, begging him to let go, but he didn’t. He gripped harder, bucking his hips up into you until his orgasm calmed.

Aftwards, Roman returned to his cold, professional and somewhat snotty disposition. He pulled his softening cock from you, tucking it back into his briefs. He took your face in his hand again, pinching hard.

“You’re never going to say a word about this to anyone.”

You nodded, adjusting as the silk of your blouse stuck to the drying blood. You weren’t sure what had just happened, but all you knew was that your back ached from the fucking, your legs were still shaking and you’d have to spend at least an extra hour in the shower, scrubbing all the blood from your body. Once he released you from his gaze, you bent down, retrieving your skirt from the floor. Surprisingly, you hadn’t gotten much blood anywhere.

“Mr. Godfrey?”

“Hm.”

“Are you going to fire me?”

“No.”

There was a promise behind his curtness. There was also an unsaid threat, that if you didn’t want to do that again, he might.

#Roman Godfrey #Roman Godfrey x you #Roman Godfrey x reader #Roman Godfrey x y/n #Roman Godfrey smut #Hemlock Grove #Bill Skarsgard #Bill Skarsgard smut #Bill Skarsgård #afab reader #dark smut #fem reader #myfics

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bloodibambiidoll · 6 months ago

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And if I said I was gonna write a threesome about them even though the HG fandom is bones and dust? What then?🤨

#I’m doing it either way #bc the fact that I’ve never written about my man is crazy #xoxodolly #hemlock grove #roman godfrey x reader #Peter rumancek x reader

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soft-for-them · 2 years ago

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Palm readings and tulips - Roman Godfrey x plus size reader

Summary: You and Roman are close, best friends even. You think he doesn't love you despite everything pointing to him loving you.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: Before writing this I hadn't watched Hemlock Grove since I was like fourteen so at this point in time I've only re-watched the first few episodes so the characters are probably way ooc. Not proof read.

Since turning eighteen, aka a legal adult, you’ve realised that you still don’t have the power to do much at all. You’re still learning to drive despite knowing that you won’t be able to afford the cost of a car on your own. You’re working part time and you’re still somehow waking up every morning to go to school which seems to never end.

Then there’s Roman.

Best friends since your family moved to Hemlock Grove when you were twelve, the promise of a job at the steel mill shattered as soon as you arrived leaving you to play outside alone whilst your parent(s) worked over jobs. Roman's always been generous with his disposable wealth when it comes to you because of your family situation.

Roman Godfrey with his fancy little red car always filled with fuel, his house always open to you when you don’t feel safe at home, his disregard for the price of anything, him choosing to always pay for your shopping the rare time he stalks around a shop with you when he’s not busy bedding other people. With a flick of a wrist he can get anything he wants no fake ID or drop of his prestigious name needed, though he does the latter one regardless, Roman Godfrey has the world at his feet.

Maybe that’s why you’re forever thinking up reasons why he’s still friends with you.

As you bang you head on your dull green locker, no one around the hallways to stop you doing so for most if not all the students have been killed in gruesome bloody ways only leaving the younger students and the less than savoury upper-classmen left. To think, if you didn’t have someone like Roman following you around like a shadow then you’d probably be mauled to death and left in a ditch somewhere.

What a lovely thought indeed.

Raising your head you look down the hall, only small clumps of people mulling around, a larger group of tall teens clad in baggy clothes huddled around some lockers probably looking at something indecent catching you attention.

“I am an adult for crying out loud.” you mutter to yourself as you check you book bag filled with heavy textbooks and your large novelty pencil case, “I should be out of this fucking town.”

Then a loud obnoxious laugh, one that sounds more like some exclaiming ‘HA!’ rather than a proper laugh echoes down the hallway reminding you that nothing good ever comes from such fake sound.

So with a reluctant sigh you mosey over to the group of boys, not caring that you look half dead in your oversized baseball jersey and baggy mom jeans, your bag clutched in your hands ready to use it as a weapon if need be.

“Alright fuckers what you looking at now?” you holler as you squish in between two towering boys who smell like B.O and dress like nul metal band rejects.

The best outcome is that they’re all ogling at a magazine of scantily clad women or huddled around a small screen of a phone looking at social media but no, sitting against a locker looking horrified is none other than Shelley Godfrey.

Her long faux hair droops over her entire face as she tries to look as small as possible, her long grey cardigan pooling on the dirtied checked floor of the hallway, her arms holding onto her speaking tablet with an inhuman clutch.

Your face turns stern, tired eyes showing how pissed off you are, the very small amount of power you have in this supernatural town bubbling up.

Most all the boys huddled around you both are way taller, a couple of the shorter ones plus size like you, so really you are outnumbered in every way including size. However, somehow the remaining gaggle of teenage boys who roam the school have an odd resect for you. Much like how Roman, when he’s not fucking someone or completely gone like he was never alive, they follow you around school like lost puppies finding you entertaining, your straightforward and sarcastic wit making you ‘one of the boys’.

That and you’re one of the very few teens who Roman hasn’t bedded, some of your classmates almost seeing you like a challenge for surely soon enough Roman will fuck you too. You’ve overheard them talk about you like this many times, too many for your liking and you have mixed feeling about how they see you. On one hand some people see this pretty young woman who must be next on Roman’s conquest whilst others see you as just ‘the fat girl’ and nothing else.

For once in your life you’d like to be seen as more than a piece of meat but you digress, you’d much rather have the respect of these teenagers than have their ogling eyes look you up and down like your either their next fuck or next bullying target.

“What? Her wig was falling off, it’s funny (y/n).” one smiles thinking that you’re going to happily chuckle alone with them.

Honestly you feel too much like a mother goose sometimes, these greasy teenagers your rebellious goslings who think you’d laugh along with them at such cruelty.

“Oh! FUNNY LIKE BREAKING YOUR DICK!” you shout at the top of your lungs, everyone is a five mile radius knowing it’s you shouting out your secret knowledge.

No one other than you and the gaggle of lanky teens surrounding you know who you’re exactly talking about however everyone else will have a fun time trying to guess who ‘broke’ their dick and hopefully the humiliation will hammer it into their head not to mess with Shelley Godfrey again.

“Come on (y/n)!” one scoffs whilst another gives you a “not cool bro.” to no avail.

“Where’s your brother?” you ask in you softest voice as you crouch down to Shelley’s height ignoring the scattering boys who try to do damage control now that everyone, which isn’t a lot compared to the beginning of the year, has heard what you shouted.

Speak of the devil Roman appears out of nowhere crouching down beside you as you talk softly to Shelley.

“Where the fuck have you been rich boy?” you scoff as you turn your head to look at your childhood befriend.

“How did you know Tyler broke his dick?” Roman retorts back with a handsome smile.

You ignore him, instead you help Shelley up.

“I’m not a blushing virgin Rom-“ you smile up to Shelley silently nodding asking is she’s ok which gets you a smile back before looking back to Roman, “- me and his brother was in the middle of some things when that idiot fell in the shower screaming bloody murder ‘My dick’s broken, my dick’s broken!’.”

You were having fun too, it’s not that often that a hot guy genuinely takes an interest in you let alone a hot college type who can take your wondering mind off Roman Godfrey, but then his idiot younger brother had slipped whilst belting out pop tunes in the shower making everyone in the house hold privy to the fact he hurt his member.

It was quite easy sneaking out whilst his family crowded around the bathroom, though your thoughts where quickly back of Roman.

As of late all you’ve been thinking about is Roman, that and escaping Pennsylvania but mostly of Roman’s stupidly handsome face.

Him looking at you now with eyes so filled with emotion, most of which you can’t decipher makes you almost blush and fumble. However before you can blurt out your feelings for the guy who used to follow you around town whilst you caught bugs or explored the library instead of going home you offer your arm to Shelley stating you’re going to take her to her class.

Shelley takes your arm with a small smile, a faint glow of blue like a firefly radiating from under her fringe. Roman follows closely behind you protectively, his heart filling up with an emotion he hasn’t properly felt in his life.

Love.

Roman Godfrey, the most powerful person in school, the man who is your shadow, in love with you.

“He’s not happy with you (y/n).” Peter says between puffs of his cigarette the two of you sat at the front of his static home.

He offers the cigarette to you but you refuse it.

“He’s never happy with me lately.” you say not believing a word that comes from your lips, you don’t think Roman has ever be properly angry or disappointed in you, not really.

“You know that’s a lie.” Peter says nudging your arm as you stare off into the distance to the house upon the hill.

“Peter, don’t contradict yourself.” you hit his arm back.

Ever since Peter Rumancek moved here you’ve been spending more and more time with him, well not as much as Roman has but you’ve been spending more time with the shaggy haired man then at home.

“What I mean is that he's annoyed at you.” as Peter talks you lean you head down on his shoulder, the late afternoon slowly fading into sunset, the air around going cold.

“How so?” you ask looking up at him.

“Something about a brother and you helping his sister.”

“Ah, that.”

Sighing, nuzzling your face into Peter’s bicep you try to figure out how to explain to him the situation that you hadn’t even realised was a situation until now.

So you explain it to him. In as little words as possible you recount the story of having a one night stand with a classmate’s older brother and the ensuing hilarity that you used as leverage to help Shelley.

“He really likes you.” Peter says bringing his hand up to pat your head as you slump down more into his arm like it was a pillow on your bed.

“Of course he does Peter, we’ve been friends since we were twelve.”

You don’t want to really explain anything more to Peter because you know exactly what he’s trying to get out of you.

Surely someone like Roman can’t like you back, right?

And from that conversation sometime later the next week you find yourself sat awkwardly on a throw covered blue sofa, a decorative pillow on your lap and Peter by your side fully relaxed.

Destiny has been kind to you the half an hour you’ve been here, she’s offered you tea, told you embarrassing stories about Peter and genuinely been hospitable and nice however as she breaches the subject of why you’re here you start to feel nervous.

It was Peter’s idea, he had been the one to bring up Destiny’s palm readings and curtsey of Peter you’re getting the palm reading for free. You’re not some naive little girl any more so you can take whatever Destiny gives you. Unlike the bigots of the town who think Destiny is scamming people out of their money because she is Romani you’re hopeful that she can give you a good reading and get Peter off you back to boot for he has been trying to tell you that Roman like likes you all week.

But still you’re nervous and jittery.

Destiny asks for your hands which you reluctantly hold out.

“I know you’re probably really good at this-“ you begin as she cradles your hands, your palm upward facing, Destiny leaning over to look at them, “-but I don’t need you tell me if I’m going to have kids or if I’m going to rich.”

Your eyes flicker between her and Peter.

“That’s no entirely how this works.” Destiny grins as Peter touches your arms to try to calm you down, “Anyway from what Peter has told me we may only need to look at your heart line.”

“Heart line?”

“Love.”

“Oh! Yeah, love…” your face scrunches up in worry, “Sorry, I’m not saying you’re a fake or anything but I, well, I already know who I love already, I just haven’t done anything about it so I don’t need a reading for that.”

She smiles, the dimpled lines either side of her mouth appearing as she does, her eye sparkling with curiosity.

“Peter you should have brought her over sooner.” she says eyes trained on you, “Shall we begin then?”

You nod a quick yes.

She begins tracing your palms, her fingers light but slow as she figures out both your past and your future form just the curved line of your hands.

“This hand-” Destiny begins cradling your non dominant hand, “- this one show your past.”

Her manicured finger traces a long line slightly jagged and curved.

“You’ve been through a lot.” she states, not trying to get anything out of you but allowing you to speak if you want to, “I assume it’s to do with your family.”

Two hours later Peter's leading you out of Destiny’s flat, a promise to visit again as a friend promised to her, tear soaked tissues stuffed up your sleeves and Peter holding your hand as he leads you onto the street now bathed in yellowing streetlamp light.

“That was a lot.” you try to upbeat but all that comes from you lips is a solemn exhale, “Promise you won’t tell anyone about all that?”

He bumps his shoulder into yours, his hand squeezing yours in a silent ‘yes’.

“Not even the bit about twelve year old you falling in love with Roman?”

“Shut up.” you laugh as you knock your shoulder into his back playfully, “Now walk me home.”

The next day after Destiny’s palm reading you’re overthinking too much so much so you get a headache that can only be cured by taking a long mid-morning nap.

Thankfully it’s the weekend and you don’t have work but unthankfully as you groggily wake up from your impromptu nap you hear the tell tell signs of one Roman Godfrey lowering himself down on top of your crowded double bed, his nicely dressed frame clashing with the teddy bears and old granny floral sheets of the bed.

“You climb through my window or something?” you ask as you drag yourself up into a sitting position, ignoring the fact your face comes dangerously close to Roman’s.

“No one’s here (y/n) so I used the key underneath the front door mat.”

“Liar-” you joke as your rearrange your twisted t-shirt on your plush body, “-the key is under the pot Rom, you know, the one with the dead tulips.”

You both maybe siting side by side, you under the covers and him fully clothed, but you can see his growing smile on his smug face from the side of his face, mischief soon to come.

“What, stop smiling like that and spit it out.”

His smile grows into a clown like grin as he lets out a deep chuckle. He bends down to the side to pick something off the floor. On hand latches onto your leg anchoring him down as he bends down hanging his other arm off the bed, warmth rising in your face at the rather forward action.

He rises bringing, what at first you think is a wad of paper, up but as you look closer you see the paper is combined with translucent pink plastic in a cone shape holding flowers in place.

Flowers.

Not just any flowers but blood red tulips, much more vivid and alive than the ones that used to live by your front door. And they’re not some supermarket type flowers either, there’s no barcode stuck to the plastic or creasing on the paper from where they’ve been sitting in a pot with other bouquets of flowers. No, they’re big, new and most certainly handmade, so perfectly arranged that they must have cost too much, well too much for you anyway.

For Roman it probably was nothing at all, his wallet still filled with too much money.

You must be frozen in place for Roman, one hand still on your leg, passes over the bouquet of tulips.

“Who you got these for?” you ask.

“I don’t like seeing you sad.” he says leaning closer so your noses almost touch.

“I’m not sad.” you try to smile, your eyes flickering between the blood petals and his sharp mesmerising eyes.

“I saw you yesterday with Peter, you were crying.”

Despite there being a thin blanket separating your bare legs from his hands you can feel him stroke patterns near your knee.

“Then why didn’t you come over then? You know I’ll always have you.”

Your words come out wrong for you were trying to say that he’s always welcome in your home though you guess the growing bubbling feeling of love has impaired your mind just a bit.

As your eyes look at the flowers you miss the hungry, almost monstrous look flash in Roman’s eyes, his pupils going large. It takes all his strength not to grab you and kiss you all over making you his.

He won’t even tell you either that last night another classmate died, that he was trying to investigate it.

“I’m taking you out.” he demands.

“Ok.” you say feeling that you can't decline, the thought of it being a date pushed out your mind for Roman always seems to be spending money on you, “Let me get dressed first Rom.”

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey x plus size reader #hemlock grove #hemlock grove x reader #hemlock grove x plus size reader #x plus size reader #plus size reader #x chubby reader #chubby reader

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