#hemlock grove fic
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puppy love
it’s late. and roman is in a club, grinding up against some twink with long hair, lips brushing against the shorter males neck. unaware of who he was daring to desire him. the stranger has an oddly familiar scent. and the leather of the jacket is worn and old. nonetheless roman persists pressing rough kisses on his throat. the other hums, biting his lip, bending his arm to tangle his hand in the taller’s hair. a familiar softness graces his fingers. he stretches his neck to allow more access. the feeling of lips against his neck is drowning out the sound of the music. roman is loving this. he’s hot, sweating, and he’s not sure if it’s from all the bodies lumped together in the club, the grinding and kissing, or his growing arousal. he doesn’t care either way. all he wanted right now was to take this guy into the alley or the back of the maserati and fuck his brains out and get his number so he could maybe call him again. the rainbow lights are blinding him. he still can’t place why the scent is familiar.
“wanna get out of here?” he asks his lover for the night.
“please.” the other basically begs. peter can’t place the voice, he knows it. the two stumble out to roman’s black maserati and the back door is opened and peter is shoved inside. a spacious back seat commonly stocked with sexual items, such as lube or condoms. roman pulls peter onto his lap and kisses him softly and slowly. roman places his hand under the others chin and softly deepens the kiss. peter can feel the fear in the kiss, he can feel the way that he is afraid to be rough, afraid he’ll break him.
roman moves one of his hands blindly to the top of the car and feels around for the light switch. with one click, he pulls away, gasping, the two open their eyes and look at each other. finally seeing one another in light.
recognizing.
“peter fucking rumancek.” roman says, completely thunderstruck. even in his wildest dreams would he be almost fucking his best fucking friend.
“roman, i-i didn’t know you were-“ he cuts himself off, nervous for what would happen if he had said that three letter word.
“shee-it, you have no fuckin idea.” roman smirks and rubs his thumbs in circles against peters sides. skin against skin contact, it has peter shivering. he goes weak, falling against his best friend, face buried in his neck. gasping as roman squeezes his hips.
“christ rumancek, didn’t expect you to be such a fucking slut.” roman growls, a primal instinct taking over. the pussy parade was getting tiring. this time it’s different, this isn’t just a one night stand. as much as he thinks he’s dreaming. he isn’t.
peter submits to him, hips grinding slowly against romans. the two aren’t sure who’s moaning louder. the car just fills with hot lust. anyone who would have walked by would have a sinful view. roman pulls at peters long locks, soft. exposing the neck he’s always dreamed of biting and sucking and leaving love bites on. the position is switched and it’s uncomfortable to be fucking someone in the back seat of a god damn maserati, especially fucking your best friend. however many times roman has dreamt and woken up to a gruff and slightly angry (but really horny) phone call from peter.
“roman, please. can we go home?” peter whines, his neck aching. roman smiles a bit at the word home. hopelessly devoted to him.
“anything for you puppy.” roman kisses him softly. peter blushes at the nickname, puppy.
climbing into the driver's seat and starting his car. peter climbs to the passenger side. both of them impossibly hard. harder than they’ve ever thought they could be. and peter is trying not to touch himself so he can spare all the spunk he has for roman.
the car speeds down the streets, and roman almost looks high, pupils blown. he is, but it’s a different kind of high. he was high off of lust. perhaps even love.
eventually, even with speeding, what seemed like the longest drive ever, ends and roman pulls into the driveway. quickly exiting the vehicle, peter following.
they enter the house, miraculous as always, beautiful. roman doesn’t want to waste anymore time, he picks peter up, wrapping his legs around his torso. the kiss that’s shared between the two is hot, romans hard cock pressed against his dress pants as well as peters ass. peter is grinding gently, trying for some relief. roman fumbles with the door handle and peter is whispering pleas against the skin of his neck.
roman growls and kisses his way down to peters neck, sloppily kissing and biting, marking him all over. pretty pup.
roman tosses peter onto the bed, leaning over him. their lips locking in a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth, roman licking over peters slightly sharp canines. hands are tugging at shirts and all roman can muster to say is,
“so many fucking layers.”
peter sits up and helps remove all the layers, leaving him naked and bare. roman stripping himself, admiring his pup.
“puppy, you sure you want this.” roman runs his hand down peters torso, touching his thighs. peter bucks his hips, he wants him, so bad, so bad that it hurts. he nods, crawling over to roman, licking up his aching cock, sucking on the tip. and roman growls. a feral sound, he threads his fingers in peters hair, tugging roughly. fucking slut. roman thinks, seeing the sinful lips of his best friend wrapped around his length. sucking like candy.
“fuck that’s it pup. suck my cock.” roman almost purrs. his knees shaking. peter looks up, locking eyes with the other, he takes as much as he can into his mouth and licks around the head. roman moans and thrusts his hips lightly. peter chokes. tugging at the brown locks, he signals for peter to stop. he pulls off, a string of saliva connecting his lips to romans dick.
“i love you, roman” peter smiles, kissing him softly, roman hums into the kiss and smiles.
“i love you, too. always have.” and they kiss, it’s soft and sweet and there’s only love in this. nothing could tear them apart. roman grips peters hips and flips him over onto all fours, running his hand along his spine, peter whines. face down ass up.
roman wastes no time pushing his throbbing cock into peters tight ass. the two of them moan, romans hand is dusted into peter hair and he’s fucking into him without mercy.
“fuck roman!” peter yells, he tries to reach down to stroke his own cock, roman grabs his wrists and ties them behind his back with a tie from his bed, the plethora of items on his bed and a tie is one. roman leans down and strokes peters cock and he winces. the pleasure is so much to handle. roman rubs his thumb over the leaking tip of peters cock.
“let me know when you’re gonna cum okay pup?”
“okay.”
he thrusts, hitting the other males prostrate and peter could cry from pleasure, he’s sure he is.
“roman.” he whispers.
“puppy, if you’re gonna call out my name, you better be fucking screaming it.” roman growls, tugging peter up to lean against his chest by the hair, and he kisses his neck. peter rides his cock sinfully, and his cock twitches in romans hand.
“c-close!” he moans. roman quickens the pace of his hand and peter rides faster.
“that’s it pup.” roman purrs, moaning after, cumming deep inside of peter. peter releases soon after, coating romans hand in his cum. they stay in the same position for a bit, regaining composure. roman grabs a towel from the floor and cleans them both up. untying peters hands, they lay in the bed together, close. small and soft kisses being shared.
“i really do love you though. one of these days you’re gonna be mine. my husband.” roman smiles, whispering to peter.
“i would want nothing more.” peter smiles, kissing him softly. roman gently pulls away and runs his fingers over the dark marks he made earlier.
“such pretty marks and a pretty neck.” he smiles.
“wish you had some, to even it out.” peter blushes at his own words.
“yeah? then make my neck as pretty as yours puppy.” roman laughs, and peters blush deepens. peters kisses are more gentle and softer than romans. he makes his way down to his neck and finds the spots that are most sensitive, by nuzzling them with his nose. roman swallows thickly. these actions being more intimate than sexual, hes drunk on love. peter sucks and nibbles, taking his time to make his marks. when he’s done, roman pulls him close and kisses him slowly, whispering sweet nothings between kisses. he plays with peters hair until they fall asleep. in each other’s arms.
as lovers should be.
#cocaineskarsgard#bill skarsgård#hemlock grove#roman godfrey#roman godfrey x peter rumancek#roman x peter#peter rumancek#landon liboiron#bill skarsgård fanfic#fanfic#hemlock grove fic
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Candy Girl ⟡˖ Roman Godfrey x Reader ⟡˖
Warnings: Pervy/obsessive reader, blood kink(duh), period sex, Roman eats reader out on her period, blood drinking(just a whole lot of blood), choking, perverted acts involving panties, unprotected sex, male masturbation, a tiny dash of daddy kink, pet names, fluff. 18+MDNI!
You are driving Roman insane. No matter how hard he tries to evade you, shut you down, you remain persistent. He met you outside the ice cream shop a few weeks ago. You were standing there in these tiny, little shorts with a tube top while you ate your cotton candy cone. Some dripped down the side and onto your hand and he couldn’t help but stare at the way you licked it off. You caught him and called him out, asking if he had a staring problem before walking over to him. And into his life. Then you never walked out. You had this sassy attitude that had a lightness behind it and he immediately knew he couldn’t muck it up with his darkness. You smelled like bubblegum and cinnamon and he wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into the curve of your neck and taste your candy-sweet blood.
Then he found out why you were in town, you’re Peter’s childhood bestfriend, of course you fucking were. It meant you knew where he lived, where he worked, and you took advantage of that. He would come out of meetings to you sitting in his office, or he’d find little notes on pink paper that weren’t there when he left. You’d leave baked goods that were way too sweet for him on his doorstep. But if he imagined it was the way you tasted he could stomach it, and even sometimes you’d be waiting there when he got home.
He gave you the cold shoulder at every turn. Hardly speaking to you, rolling his eyes, scoffing. He even plain told you to “fuck off” a few times but none of it discouraged you. You’d just smile and let out this cute little giggle, like you knew he didn’t mean it. Your persistence flatters him, that bright smile on your face never faltering when your pretty eyes are on him. Roman was strong at first. But his resolve is slipping, especially since you started getting more scandalous with your little gifts.
It started with the Polaroids. The first one was innocent enough, just a picture of your sweet face. But the camera was tilted down for him to see the cleavage in your low cut top. They just got dirtier from there. Pictures of you sucking on your fingers. Body shots in little lingerie that he hopes nobody else sees you in. The thought makes him murderous. Your tits. Your perfect ass. You even started getting bold with pussy shots. And you always signed them with naughty little notes.
What really sent him over the edge though? You started leaving him your panties. The first pair was in the drawer in his office. You’d leave them on the rear view mirror of his car. Any random little spot you could find.
He was barely holding onto his resolve. The only thing holding him back is Peter’s threat to snap his neck if he didn’t stay away from you, and the fact that he didn’t trust himself not to drain every drop of blood from your perfect body. But now he’s sitting on his bed with a pair of your panties in his hand, and it’s not just any pair, they’re bloody. The note you left with them was you practically begging for him to be your boyfriend and for him to let you suck his dick. And somehow you got into his house to leave them right on his pillow. If it was anyone else he would be fucking pissed, he’d find them for breaking into his space, and wring their neck. But something about you going to that length to be close to him makes his heart beat faster, and his cock twitch.
Roman also wonders how you knew he’d want these. Did Peter tell you about him? Do you know what Peter is? If so, is this your way of telling him you don’t care? His thoughts are spiraling, but he keeps going back to the idea that this was you offering your blood to him. And who was he to turn down the offer of the century? He brings the crotch of your panties to his nose and inhales deeply, the scent of your candy sweet blood causing him to groan deeply in his chest. He brings them to his lips and runs his tongue along the sticky middle, his eyes rolling back from the taste of you. His cock feels like it’s going to burst out of his jeans and he practically growls as he undoes his belt and pulls it from his slacks. He pumps his cock while the taste of you lights up his system like a drug.
You really should’ve thought this through more. Not only did you have no idea when Roman would be home, you also didn’t bring an extra pair of panties. So you’re currently huddled in his bathroom behind the shower curtain, trying not to bleed on your little white mini skirt. Wearing it was definitely a choice, all of this was. You wouldn’t say you’ve been stalking Roman, it’s more that you’re persistent and know what you want. Some might call it stalking though.
You can’t help it. He’s just so fucking beautiful and mysterious. He’s so closed off and cold but you can tell there’s a softness underneath it, a desperation to be loved. You want to crack him open at the very center and consume every drop of sweetness he has to offer. You want to know everything about him.
Peter says you’re obsessed, and he’s not wrong. He also told you to give it up, he even told you Roman’s deepest secret in hope that it would deter you. But all it did was make you want him more. You’ve known about Peter since you were kids, so finding out vampires, or upirs are real, wasn’t the biggest shock to you. It just made you want to expose your neck to him and let him drink from you until he was drunk off your taste. You know leaving him little love notes, your panties, and nudes might come off desperate. But if he really cared he would’ve told you to stop by now. And it’s not like you’ve tried very hard, or at all, to hide it was you. Now you’re hiding in his fucking bathroom because you literally broke into his house. You’re so fucked.
You’re ripped from your thoughts on how to escape by the sound of a loud groan, followed by ragged breathing. At first you thought he was pissed but as you continued to listen you could hear the slight sound of skin slicking on skin. Was he fucking someone? Suddenly murder was starting to sound appealing. Then you heard it, the sound of your name and that’s when it clicked. He’s jerking off, hopefully with your panties, or at least because of them. Did he taste them? God, you hope he did.
Your mind is reeling with the possibilities of what is happening just on the other side of this wall, the door isn’t even shut. Your curiosity ends up outweighing your desire to stay hidden. You pull back the shower curtain and slip quietly out of the shower, being extra careful to make sure your pink platform heels don’t click against the expensive marble tiles on the floor. You tiptoe to the door and peer through the crack and the sight in front of you nearly brings you to your knees.
Roman is sitting on the edge of his bed with his thick, hard cock in his hand as he pumps himself. His large legs are spread wide and his hips raise off the bed to meet his hand. Best of all though? The crotch of your panties is entirely in his mouth. His eyes are rolled back as he eagerly sucks your bloody juices from the soft silk. Your nipples harden in your little top at the sight and you feel wet, hot liquid drip down the side of your thigh before you look down just in time to see a splat of your blood drop down onto the white marble below you. It causes a little gasp to sound low in your chest and Roman whips his head in your direction the second he hears it.
You take a few shaky, nervous steps back and your heel catches on the corner on the bathmat, causing you to fall flat on your ass. Your skirt pools around your hips and your pussy is on full display as the cool air hits your slick center. You barely have time to realize you fell before Roman is pushing the bathroom door open so hard it slams against the wall. His eyes are crazed as he takes in the sight in front of him. He has his slacks and boxers pulled up now but his pants and belt are still undone. His usually meticulously styled hair is out of place, like he was running his fingers through it. His perfectly pressed black button up has the top three buttons undone and he’s clutching your panties in his large hand. He looks like a wet fucking dream.
Roman could say the same about you though. You’re sitting on his bathroom floor in a tank top that’s so see through he can practically see your nipples and he can tell you’re not wearing a bra. Your hair is in these cute little braids with ribbons tied on the ends and your pretty, pouty lips shine in the iridescent white light of the bathroom. But what’s driving him to the point of insanity? Your little white skirt is bunched up at your hips, revealing your bare pussy to him. Which means the only pair of panties you had were the ones you gave him. Silly girl. You’re pussy glistens with your wet, bloody juices and your white skirt is streaked with blood.
If he believed in heaven, he’s sure this is what it would look like. Except for the way his stomach growls at the smell of you suddenly makes him feel like he’s in hell. He thought the smell of you on your panties was just really strong, he didn’t realize the source was just behind the door. You smell so fucking good. Like someone blended cotton candy and blood and mixed it with your arousal and he’s never smelled anything better in his life. He wants to rip your skin open and drink every drop of saccharine liquid from your body and that’s exactly why he’s stayed away. But now? He’s not sure he can trust himself, but how can he resist just a taste?
“Roman, I’m - I’m so sorry! I really shouldn’t have - fuck I’m just so sorry.” Your voice is squeaky and you trip over your words while you talk awkwardly with your hands.
“No. You shouldn’t have.” Roman’s nostrils flare and he clenches his hands into tight fists at his sides. He looks fucking pissed and you can’t help the way your pussy clenches at the sight. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“Broke into your house and left my blood panties on your pillow?” You state the obvious with an awkward smile and close your legs when you realize you’re still flashing him your entire pussy. Even though you don’t really care. He’s already seen it all.
“You think I’m mad you broke in?” Roman chuckles darkly as he takes a few steps toward you, he’s absolutely massive from this angle and it makes your head spin. He holds your panties up and rolls them between his fingers before holding them out toward you. “I don’t give a fuck about that. Do you realize how dangerous what you’re doing is?! Do you realize that - that I could fucking hurt you?!”
“I’m not scared of you, Roman. If you’re mad because you think you’re going to hurt me, good. I want you to.” You lick your lips and smirk up at him, baiting him. If he isn’t mad that you broke in, you’re going to shoot your shot. You didn’t come all this way, practically stalking him, for nothing.
“You should be.” Roman grits as he glares down at you. He knows if you offer yourself to him, it’s over. He can’t resist you anymore. Not like this. “You can’t just - you can’t just fucking walk in here dressed like that, smelling like blood and shit.” He takes another step forward and points down at you accusingly. “Why can’t you just give it up, huh?! No matter what I do, you don’t stop!”
“Because I can tell you want me! And you think you’re some big, bad scary monster but, newsflash, Roman I’m not afraid of you! I want you to fuck the shit out of me and feed off me. I want to be the only person you’re nice to because I can tell you’re sweet underneath that mountain of ice. I can tell you just want to be loved.” You look up at him through your lashes as you get onto all fours and crawl until you’re knelt directly in front of him. “Let me feed you, let me love you.”
“You’re fucked in the head, you know that?” Roman chuckles and smirks down at you devilishly, his words holding less malace now. “But I guess that makes us both fucked because all this crazy shit you’ve been doing gets me so hard. I’m gonna fucking ruin you, princess.”
“Do it.” It was like you said the magic words with how quickly Roman gets onto his knees and manhandles you onto your back. He roughly grabs your thighs, spreading them apart as he shoves his face between your legs. He lickes a long stripe along your folds before slipping his tongue between them and licking up your juices. Every nerve on Roman’s body lights up at your taste and he growls into your pussy as he shoves his tongue into your hole and swirls it.
“Oh fuck, that’s so fucking good.” You whine and it spurs Roman on, his cock twitching in his jeans. You taste better than he could have ever imagined. Like metallic candy and desire. He doesn’t know how he will settle for the taste of anything else ever again. Roman grabs onto your ass and lifts your lower half off the ground, his tongue never letting up. He flattens it inside of you and practically scoops your blood into his mouth as he drinks it down. His thumb comes up to rub circles on your clit and it has you close to coming already. “Oh god, I’m going to come.”
Roman moans into your pussy as he looks up at you with his big, green eyes that are almost entirely black from the dilation of his pupils. He hasn’t come up for air once, he can suffocate and drown between your legs with your blood on his tongue for all he cares. He circles his tongue around your hole before thrusting it back inside you and it has white hot pleasure burning through you. You grip onto his hair and your hips rut against his face as you ride out your high. You start to come back down to earth but Roman doesn’t stop until you’ve come on his mouth two more times. He finally pulls off of you and you pant as you try to focus your blurry eyes on the way your blood coats his lips.
“You taste so much fucking better than I could’ve ever imagined.” Roman moans as he brings his finger to gather the blood on his chin and cheeks before sucking it into his mouth. He licks his lips, savoring your taste like it's the finest meal he’s ever eaten, because it was. “I don’t know how I’m going to come back from that. Nothing will ever taste as good as that. Fuck! I shouldn’t have -”
“ROMAN!” You shout as you lean forward and take his face in your hands. “Don’t spiral. I’ll be your personal fucking blood bag, for all I care.” You smile at him adoringly as your thumbs brush his cheeks. “Will you kiss me?”
“You want me to kiss you?” Roman cocks his head to the side as his eyes roam your sweet face. He can’t believe such a weird fucking girl resides inside your angelic form. “You’re not real.”
“Real as they come, shut up and kiss me.” Roman surges forward, crushing his lips against yours. They’re so plush and soft and he tastes like your blood but you don’t even care because he’s finally kissing you. You slip your tongue into his mouth and tangle it with yours as you lean up to wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your chest against his own. You want to be closer to him. Roman groans as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you up as he stands with ease. His other hand grips onto your ass and you lock your legs around his waist, your lips never ceasing to touch each other. He walks into his bedroom and throws you down on the bed, standing at the edge of it as he looks down at you hungrily.
“I want you to fuck me.” You smile up at him with mock innocence as you spread your thighs for him. “Use me, Roman.”
“If you think you’re ever escaping me now, you’re wrong. I’ll tie you to my fucking bed if I have to. You’re mine now.” Roman groans as he leans down and licks the length of your pussy, tasting your blood again.
“Well, I like the sound of that, I just might have to run away, afterall…” You sigh dramatically and it's cut off with a squeak when Roman lands a smack on your pussy. “Hey!”
“You’re a fucking, brat, aren’t you, an angel in desguise?” Roman smacks your pussy again and you’re so wet it echoes off the walls. “I won’t hesitate to punish you in the future. But right now I need to feel that tight fucking pussy wrapped around my cock.”
Roman pushes his pants and boxers down his hips, freeing his hard, thick cock. He grabs onto the sides of his shirt, ripping the buttons open and shoving it off his shoulders. He leans down and wraps his hand around your throat, his mouth watering at the feeling of your blood pumping against his palm. He takes his cock in his other hand and taps it on your clit a few times before lining up with your entrance and slamming deep inside you. There’s no build up, no time to think with the way he brutally fucks into you.
“Oh my fucking god.” You moan and wrap your legs around romans hips, using your heel clad feet to push him deeper. Roman continues to squeeze your throat, addicted to the feeling of your pumping blood as your pussy practically constricts his cock.
“You’re so fucking tight, fuck. Let me see these tits, baby.” Roman’s free hand reaches down to pull your tank top down below your chest. Your tits bounce free and he roughly takes one in his hand, pinching your nipple hard. “Even more perfect than your little pictures.”
He leans down to take one in his mouth and he lets his grip on your throat fall so he can twist your opposite nipple. Your back arches off the bed as your hands grip onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. Roman continues to pound into your pussy, this new angle has him hitting deeper and his pelvis bumps against your clit deliciously.
“God, Roman, you feel so fucking good.” Breathy moans leave your lips as you try to meet his erratic thrusts. His mouth moves onto your other tit and he bites down on your nipple surprisingly gently. “Bite me harder. Drink from me.”
“I don’t think you know what you’re asking, doll.” Roman plants sloppy kisses on your chest and up your neck before running his perfect, pointed nose along your jugular. He kisses along the column of your neck and nips at your skin. “What if I can't stop?”
“I trust you.” You sigh dreamily as you run your fingers through his hair. “I want it, please?”
Roman pushes himself up on his hands so he can look down at you with his shiny, viridescent eyes, he searches your face for doubt but all he sees is lust and a look of trust that he hasn’t seen anyone give him in a long time. Everyone in his life fears him, aside from Peter, that is. But this is different, you’re almost looking at him like you love him or something. Then you do it, you crane your head to the side, exposing your neck further to him and Roman thinks he might be in love with you.
“Fuck it.” Roman slams his hips against yours roughly and grabs onto the back of your head as he leans down and licks across your neck. He plants a few sloppy kisses there, inhaling your taste and savoring the way your heart beats against his lips before sinking his teeth into your delicate skin. He isn’t sure if this or your pussy tasted better but something about you trusting him with your life makes this different. It makes him fucking crazy. You make him fucking crazy.
“Shit, that feels amazing.” Your eyes roll back at the feeling of Roman’s teeth puncturing your skin as he pulls your blood from your body. He’s still fucking you like a man posessed and it’s all you’ve ever wanted. “Take as much as you need, daddy.”
Roman straight up growls into your throat at that, his thrusts somehow becoming even rougher. His free hand travels between your legs to rub circles on your clit and it sends you over the edge. You see stars as your orgasm wracks through your entire body. Once you come down, Roman pulls his teeth from your neck and licks the bloody wound they left behind.
“That’s my good girl, fucking come for me.” Roman takes your jaw in his big hand and pulls your lips against his in a filthy kiss, filling your mouth with that metallic taste mixed with something that’s purely Roman. When he pulls away, he licks the blood that smeared on your lips from his own. “Fucking addicted to your taste, you’re so sweet, like candy. My little candy girl.”
“I’m fucking obsessed with you.” You admit it with your full chest, as if it wasn’t already obvious. You bring your nails up and run them down his chest, leaving lines of scratch marks. “You can taste me whenever you want.”
“You’re so fucking hot.” Roman pushes up on his knees and grips onto your thighs, tossing them over his shoulder. It has his cock hitting places you didn’t even know were there. Roman grips onto your throat again, leaning down and nearly folding you in half. He shoves his face into your neck and licks the blood still gathered where his teeth pierced your skin and that’s all it takes to have his cock twitches inside of you, filling you with ropes of his cum.
“Fuck yes, milk my dick, angel.” Roman doesn’t stop fucking you until his cock starts to soften inside you and then he collapses on top of you. His weight crushes you into the mattress but it feels good and you bring your fingers up to tickle across his back and into his silky hair. “You’re something else, you know that?”
Roman chuckles into your neck and it fills your tummy with a million butterflies.
“Yeah? How so?” Roman pushes himself up on his hands so he can look down at you with a smile you’ve never seen before. It’s warm and sweet and you never want it to go away.
“Well, first of all, you practically stalked me. You broke into my house, and then you offered me your blood as if me killing you wasn’t a very real possibility. You’re kinda crazy” Roman chuckles as his hand comes up to cup your cheek and you swear you’re going to melt. “It’s pretty sexy though. You really gonna be my little blood bag?”
“Oh! So he does have a sense of humor!” You giggle and Roman rolls his eyes and flips onto his back. You take the opportunity to straddle him and look down at him like he hung the stars and it makes his heart beat weird. You’re so fucking pretty sitting on him with your hair all mused and your tits out, your pretty little neck decorated with his bite mark. “Jokes aside though, I meant that.”
“Well shiiit, who am I to say no to that?” Roman laughs, like for real laughs and it lights up his entire face. Now that you’ve accomplished your goal of getting him, your new one is to make him laugh like that, everyday.
“Does this mean your boyfriend now?” Roman grabs onto your braids, pulling your face down so it’s only an inch away from his while he gives you that bright smile you want to bottle up and save for a rainy day.
“Yeah, I’ll be your boyfriend or whatever, blood bag.” You giggle and Roman kisses you lovingly and way more gently than before. You knew you could break him. And now he’s yours.
Some of you might recognize my writing and aesthetic, if you do, hello! This is where I’ll be writing from now on. I’ll be writing for several different characters and I hope you enjoy the ride!✨
Tagging my Bill babes: @rafescorpsebride @taintandviolent (<- shout out to you pookie for shaking my Roman brain worm that never sleeps) @eerielamb @that-sarcastic-writer 🤍
Divider by @anitalenia
#Bambii writes 𐐪ɞ#roman godfrey x y/n#roman godfrey x you#roman godfrey x reader#Roman Godfrey#roman godfrey fic#roman godfrey smut#Roman Godfrey fanfiction#bill skarsgard#bill skarsgard fanfiction#bill skarsgard smut#hemlock grove
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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.
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dressing room (roman godfrey x reader)
WARNINGS: 18+, semi-public sex, fingering, foul language, quickie, slight voyeurism, piv sex, and roman is a bit of an ass LMAO
summary: shopping with Roman can be hard (pun intended)
word count: 2,968
"No, I don't like that either,"
At this point, those words were starting to feel like nails against a chalkboard. I clenched my teeth together, not wanting to let out the string of curses that befell my mind. Shopping with Roman was absolute hell— I had told him not to come, but he insisted; "How are you going to go without my card, anyway?"
Seething, I gave the shop assistant a look as I turned on my heel, walking back into the changing room. Why didn't he like anything? Ever? It was making me grow more and more insecure by the minute, and I hated it. I hated that he had to come. I hated that I was dependant on him to buy nice stuff for myself.
Without even asking, Roman suddenly stuck his hand into my dressing room, handing me a dress. "Try this on," he said, voice rather harsh.
Still not saying a word, I accepted it, fussing with the dressing room curtain as I grew further annoyed. I took another glance at the dress; I couldn't deny it was nice. It was short, black— a classic fuck-me dress. Of course he wanted me to wear this. Rolling my eyes, I changed into the dress, mumbling several curse-words under my breath as I zipped it up.
Walking out of the dressing room, I felt my heart beat hard in my chest. I wasn't ready for another rejection from Roman. I stepped in the middle of the fitting-area, checking myself out in the big mirror on the wall in front of me— I liked this one. My nervous gaze flickered over to Roman in the mirror, watching his attention move from his phone and to me from where he had sat himself down in a comfortable chair.
Roman shifted, grounding his long legs on the floor, leaning forward to get a good look. "Turn around,"
Adhering to his orders, I did as told, doing my best to not look too angry with him.
Roman's eyes scanned me thoroughly as he hummed, thinking. "I like it. We'll take this one,"
Letting out a sigh of relief, I couldn't believe he finally liked something. It irked me that he didn't ask what I felt about it, but I let it slide. I didn't want to provoke him in any way, especially not now.
However, Roman could read my face like no other. He always had the ability to know exactly what I was feeling— it's just that he didn't give a damn most of the time. "What?" he said, brows drawing together as his mood worsened. "Why do you look like that?"
"Like what?" It was the first thing I had said in about an hour.
"Displeased," Roman kicked back into the chair, his green eyes narrowing as he looked at me. "What is it?"
"It's nothing—"
"What is it about the ten thousand dollar dress that I'm about to buy you that displeases you?" His eyes were truly drilling into me now.
I clenched my jaw, hoping to keep my mouth shut. I didn't want to do this in front of the workers in this shop, I didn't want to do this in public. "I'm just tired, Roman, could we just—"
"Tired of what? Shopping?" With a displeased huff, he shook his head in denial. "Talk to me about being tired when you start doing more than sitting around all day."
I let out a short gasp, feeling more than offended. Not wanting to cause a commotion, I lowered my voice before I spoke; "Roman, I'm in college. What I do when I'm 'sitting around all day', is studying!"
Roman snorted, rolling his eyes; "Do you want the dress or not?"
Enraged, I let in a big heave of air. Drilling my gaze into his, seeing the patronizing shimmer in the green of his eyes, pushed me over the edge. "No!" I sneered, balling my fists. "I don't want it! I didn't even want to come here, let alone have you come with me, but you never listen! Selfish fucking!—" I caught the eyes of one of the saleswomen, and it made me realize that I was making the scene I told myself I wouldn't make. Not daring to look at Roman, I stormed back into the dressing room, angrily closing the curtains.
With angry tears pressing up against my eyes, I struggled to open the zipper as my vision blurred. I hated this. I hated every minute, every second of this. Out of sight from everyone, I let a small tear run down my cheek, feeling beyond frustrated with both Roman and the zipper.
However, as the curtains drew apart and I felt his presence behind me, my breath hitched as I quickly wiped away the tear. "Get out—"
"Shut up," Roman stepped forward, swatting my hands away from the zipper, taking matters into his own hands. He opened it with ease and proceeded to watch me sniffle as I took off the dress. "What's your problem?" he said, voice low.
Feeling defeated, I let out a shaky sigh as I arranged the dress back on the hanger, not really caring that I was in my underwear and a pair of high heels in front of him. It's not like he hadn't seen me like this before. "I don't think you're allowed in here," I mumbled, not meeting his gaze.
Letting out a short, low groan, Roman rolled his eyes, clearly fed up. "I don't get why you're upset," he said, leaning against the wall as he watched me like a hawk. "I basically give you an unlimited budget to shop at fucking Dior, and you're sulking. Sulking!"
Finally turning to him, I let him see how glossy my eyes were from the tears I was holding back. "I just wanted a day to make myself feel better, Roman," I said, keeping my voice down, fighting the rush of water coming to my eyes. "To look at myself and not hate what I see because of what I've become for you!"
Roman's eyes narrowed as his chest rose high with every breath he took. Stepping away from the wall, he took a few damning steps towards me, towering over me in intimidation. "You can't even imagine how many girls there are out there that would give up everything to be in your position," he said with a low growl. "Why can't you just be grateful?"
"Grateful for what?" I snapped back, feeling my frustration rise. "To be treated like some trophy you parade around town? Just a prop you bring around to social events? It's you who should be grateful I haven't left your sorry ass!"
Clearly growing further agitated, Roman's eye twitched. "No one's holding you back, sweetheart. You're free to leave,"
Taken aback, I stared back at him with a hollow feeling in my chest. Why were his words so venomous? Did I really mean that little to him, after all this time? My face fell a little, clearly caught off guard. He had never been so... welcoming of that idea. Feeling more tears well up in my eyes, I continued to stare at him in disbelief.
And something about the look of defeat on my face seemed to satisfy Roman. Something deep, something dark inside of him. With a victorious smirk, he leaned down, tilting my chin up to make sure I wouldn't look away as he came closer. I could feel his hot breath against my skin as he spoke softly; "You can be a brat and complain all you want, but after I'm done with you here, I'm going to go pay for that dress while you fix yourself up. You're wearing it to the gala tonight. Got it?"
Not knowing what else to say, feeling everything all at once, I mumbled; "It's too short for a gala,"
"All the better," Roman whispered, a flaming shimmer in his green eyes. He snaked one arm around my waist, tracing the bare skin of my back as he slowly pulled me even closer. "What do you say about a little peace-offering?"
Oh no. I knew what that meant. "I'm still mad at you,"
"Sure, stay mad," Roman leaned down, his plush lips now pressed against my neck in a hot, wet kiss. "Be mad at me all you want darling, take it out on me."
Confused, I shivered as he kissed down my neck. This was quite a turn of events. "Roman, not here—"
"Yes, here," Gently biting down on my shoulder, hoping to get a reaction, he pulled me flush against him. Feeling my breath hitch once more, I put my hands on his broad shoulders, ready to push him away at any second. This was highly inappropriate, and I was suddenly hyper-aware of how little I was wearing compared to him, all dressed up in his usual suit.
"You need to stop fighting this," Roman murmured, moving from my neck to kiss the shell of my ear, making me shiver once more. "Stop fighting the life I want to give you. Don't you think I know what's best for you?"
Having him whisper in my ear like this was making my brain short-circuit, no matter the circumstances. I batted away my tears, sort of frozen to my spot.
"You need to let me take care of you," he whispered, his hands now travelling down to my hips. "Let me buy you that stupidly expensive dress. Let me parade you around. It makes me feel good, don't you see? Don't you want to make me feel good?" With those last words, one of his hands slipped between my legs, ghosting over my underwear with one finger.
I shivered— oh God. "Roman, I—"
"Don't you?" It didn't take long before he dipped his hand into my underwear, slowly rubbing my clit as I squirmed, hips bucking against his hand. My mind was far gone at this point; "I do,"
"Yeah?" Roman let me grind against his hand (for once), pulling away to find my eyes. "That's my girl."
Feeling my breath hitch against his lips, I felt a familiar warmth spread across my chest. "Roman—"
"See what I can do when you just listen?" He gently traced my entrance with his finger, a smirk forming on his lips at the sound of my wetness. "I can be very, very nice, you see." Roman dipped his finger into me with ease, making me part my lips at the sensation. My eyes were wide open now, still shocked that this was happening. I did my best to hold back a slight tremble as he curled his finger inside of me, knowing just how to touch me as always.
My heart was racing; was anyone taking notice of this outside the dressing room? I hoped not. But all thoughts of clarity flew out the window when I felt his thumb back on my clit, still pumping his middle finger into me. "Roman," I echoed— was it a moan?
"I will dress you as I please, and fuck you as I please," he whispered against my lips, denying me a kiss. "Because what pleases me, pleases you. Correct?"
Fuck, he was trying to re-wire my brain, wasn't he? At some point, I knew I would give in. Was this the moment? I didn't really know what to say, staring up at him with round eyes of disbelief.
But my whole belief-system came crashing down when he added a second finger, making my hands clutch the fabric of his suit, losing myself more and more.
"Use that pretty mouth of yours," he said, looking into my eyes with a looming darkness. "Say it or I'll stuff it."
Fuck no. "You're being mean,"
"Mean?" Roman feigned innocence, batting his long lashes at me with a twinge of a chuckle. "I'm being really fucking nice. Let me show you." He pulled his fingers out of me, which made my breath hitch— I felt surprisingly empty now. Grabbing my hips, he turned me around, making me face the wall as he hooked his fingers around my panties. "Mean," he mumbled to himself, shaking his head in disbelief as he dragged down my underwear, now reaching for the zipper of his pants. "When am I ever mean?"
I huffed— always?
"Compared to many others, I'm a saint," Roman continued, almost as though he was convincing himself more than me. "Here I am, trying to please my girl... Mean, my ass."
I was about to clap back at this point, until I felt the head of his dick rubbing against my entrance, making me lean my head against the wall in defeat and anticipation.
This was seemingly not allowed— I let out a tiny squeak as Roman wrapped his hand around my neck, pulling me flush against him away from the wall. With his thumb, he forced my chin in the direction of the mirror in the dressing room. "Watch," he growled, holding me in place as I squirmed.
My breath hitched as he entered me, the sight of it making the whole thing even more lewd. I did my best to not let my eyes roll back, not wanting to show too much too early. Usually, I'd close my eyes, fight him somehow, refuse to watch— but this time, I just gave in.
I watched as Roman buried his face in the crook of my neck, feeling his hot breath against my skin, letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling of being inside me again. "Fuck," he whispered, bucking into me slowly.
Letting my lips part at the sensation, feeling how big he was inside me, I did my best to fight against the instinctual shut-down of my brain. It was always a stretch, every damn time, which left me with slight remnants of tears in my eyes— but he knew this. I clawed a little at the hand he had around me, hissing slightly, not wanting to make too much noise, but he didn't need the reminder to take it slow with me. Despite our fights, despite the tension, Roman never hurt me.
And the burning sensation didn't last long, anyways. It never did. I felt myself push down against him, meeting his hips, and that was all Roman needed to know before letting his instincts take control.
My heart sped up with his thrusts, giving in to a slight quiver as I let him fuck me, eyes still glued on the mirror even when he let go of my throat. "You're so wet, God," Roman kissed up my neck, panting slightly against my skin. "Feels so nice and tight..."
I shivered, giving into a smile as I felt him throb inside me. "What pleases you, pleases me,"
Roman chuckled slightly against my neck, his brown hair which was usually styled and proper now kissing his forehead; "Yeah? You like being fucked like this, hm?"
I couldn't even lie. "Yeah... A-Aah—"
Quickly clasping a hand over my mouth, Roman made sure I kept my volume down. "Careful," he whispered, hips continuously meeting mine. "You close or something?"
I shook my head, letting out a muffled moan against his hand. This was getting too good. It made me almost want to cry again, just by the sheer feeling of him moving in and out of me at this pace. Was it maybe a little thrilling that we could be caught at any moment?
However, I should've known Roman would do this next; "Let's fix that, then," With his free hand, he reached down to rub my clit, making me cry out against his palm.
Fuck, fuck— This was too much. My hands were now almost clawing at the wall, a familiar feeling pooling between my legs, which slowly traveled up my spine and up into the tips of my fingers.
"You know you love me," Roman whispered, leaning down to kiss the shell of my ear, making me shiver. "And you know I love you and your wet, little pussy... All mine, hm?"
I nodded against his hand, feeling my body quivering beneath his touch— the hand he had on my clit only made everything feel a thousand times stronger.
"No matter what, you'll always be mine," Roman whispered into my ear, voice dripping with pride, pleasure and victory. "All mine... Fuck—"
If he hadn't had a hand over my mouth, I'd have agreed— rather loudly, in fact. But I didn't have the time for words, feeling my orgasm come crashing down on me, letting out a muffled, broken moan against his palm, feeling him fuck me through my high.
As I clamped down on him with my orgasm, I felt him spill into me as well, thrusts growing more erratic as he bit down on my shoulder to muffle any possible sounds; it had me thinking it was definitely going to leave a mark.
I let out a defeated sigh as he pulled out of me, doing my best to not fall limp to the ground. Once again, he had somehow managed to completely fuck my brains out, leaving me a shivering mess. I slowly turned to Roman, trying to catch my breath; "Do you think they heard?"
Roman smirked, fixing his belt. "Definitely,"
Horrified, I felt my face flush, the consequences of our actions dawning on me. I did my best not to wobble on my high heels, letting out another sigh; "We're not doing that again,"
Looking down at me with a cocky smirk, he shook his head before leaning down to kiss my forehead. "We so are," Roman reached for the dress that was hanging next to me on the wall, holding it out in front of him to look at it once more. "You looked ravishing in this, by the way. Can't wait to watch my cum drip out of you in this dress all night."
With a look of pure shock and horror on my face, I watched him leave the dressing room with a smug smile, wondering how on earth I had allowed this to happen— again.
#roman godfrey#fanfic#hemlock grove#roman godfrey x reader#oneshot#x you#writing#bill skarsgard#creative writing#angst#toxic relationship#toxic love#roman godfrey fic#bill skarsgård
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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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im not over hemlock grove i think i need to go to therapy
#anyone have romancek fic recs😞#preferably one thats happy😭😭#evren thoughtz#roman godfrey#peter rumancek#romancek#hemlock grove
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Baby Girl Rumancek’s name has officially been decided on! 💖💖
And it’s not even any of the choices I previously had! 😆
(Whatdaya want from me, I’m a writer. I’m a hot fucking mess.)
#hemlock grove#peter rumancek#roman godfrey#romancek#bill skarsgård#landon liboiron#ao3fic#ao3#ao3 writer#the world needs more romancek mpreg#pregnant!roman#waning moon#rainbow child universe#this fic is about to get crazy my dudes
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Hi, I’m hoping one of you beautiful people has a copy of Your Precious Skin by Wonderrland from AO3.
#hemlock grove#fanfic#find fic#request#romancek#bill skarsgård#bill skarsgard#ao3fic#ao3 fanfic#ao3#deleted fic#deleted fanfiction
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Excuse me while I pick my jaw up off the FLOOR
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.
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juicy fruit
roman likes to chew gum. a specific yellow kind. peter can smell the flavor of it whenever roman flips open the pack and pops a piece into his mouth. blowing a small bubble and winking at him from across the room.
tease.
peter thought about roman a lot. pure and sinful things. but, he never could tell him how he felt. he stared a lot too.
“peter, what are you staring at?” letha asks.
“nothing, nothing.” he shakes his head, shaking out thoughts of roman. he can smell the gum. roman walks up to the two of them and wraps an arm around lethas shoulders.
“let’s get you home. peter, do you want a ride?” he asks. juicy fruit on his breath, simple and sweet. peter chokes out a ‘sure’, they get in the truck. the jaguar was in the shop for the day. oil change probably.
they drop letha off and peter moves to the front seat.
“do you want to go home, my place, or go fuck around at the mall?”
“could we go to your place? i know lynda won’t be home until tonight. kinda don’t wanna be home alone.” peter laughs.
roman smiles, he throws his old gum out the window, and gets a new piece.
“all that sugar is gonna rot your teeth roman.” peter looks at him. roman shrugs. he pulls over to the side of the road. he twists in his seat, hands still on the steering wheel, he blows a bubble and it pops loudly. startling peter.
“shee-it. no it won’t.” roman laughs, driving home, the drive is quiet, only the soft sound of simon and garfunkel from the radio. as they pull into the driveway, peter notices he was still staring at roman.
“you have a staring problem rumancek.” roman laughs. getting out of the truck, peter smirks.
they both enter the house. large, clean, vintage. roman goes up the stairs, his room with the steel rings from the mill hung in his wall.
peter walks in behind him and sits on the bed, laying against the silk pillows. roman sits on the corner of the bed, facing him.
“why the fuck do you chew so much gum?” peter asks, roman smirks.
“to make you ask questions.” he replies. peter rolls his eyes.
“what’s the real reason?”
“it’s grounding. helps keep me calm when my ocd gets out of hand.” roman chews on the inside of his lip.
“why don’t you have medication?”
“olivia doesn’t think i actually have it.”
“quit chewing on your lip.” peter says, a hint of stress in his voice. roman stops.
“everything okay?”
peter nods, unable to find words. his eyes shift to romans lips.
“something on your mind?” roman asks, laying on his side.
“you could say that yeah.”
“someone?” peter nods. picking at his finger nails. nervous. he just needs to get the words out. the feelings started at a party. roman was given a dare of sorts, to tease him. rile him up. leave him wanting more. now of course roman was high. still conscious enough to know what he was doing. peter had to leave the party early due to a “phone call” from lynda about casper needing food.
thoughts swirled in his head about that night.
romans hands in his hair, pulling it into a ponytail. pressing small kisses to his neck, nipping at his ears. touching his thighs.
“peter?” roman waves his hands in front of peters face. he shakes his head.
“i-i uh- i should get going.” peter looks down. he stands and goes to the door, roman follows him, grabbing his wrist.
“peter. talk to me. what’s wrong?” genuine concern crossed romans face. peters cheeks heat up, his throat feels dry and he just needs to say it.
say it. say it. say it!
“i love you, roman.” the whisper is barely audible.
“what?”
“fuck.”
“just say it. whatever it is.”
“i love you, roman.” louder now, roman stares at him.
peter tried to pull his wrist away. he manages, he opens the door and roman throws out his gum, following him. he catches up to him in the kitchen. he presses his hips against the kitchen table and kisses him. peter gasps a bit. roman smiles into the kiss.
“your lips taste like juicy fruit.”
“you love it.”
peter reaches around to romans back pocket, and grabs the half used pack of gum, he takes out a piece and pops it in his mouth. smirking at roman.
“tease.” roman kisses him again. peter smirks and licks romans bottom lip.
sweetness.
#cocaineskarsgard#bill skarsgård#landon liboiron#roman godfrey#peter rumancek#rumancek#roman x peter#roman godfrey x peter rumancek#hemlock grove#hemlock grove fic#fanfic#bill skarsgård fanfic
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My other blog is @chaptersleftunwritten if you guys wanna give it a lil peep! I’m trying to make as many moots as I can 🫀
Let’s be friends!!
#poetry#literature#dark academia#creative writing#fan fiction#fan fic writing#fandom#original poem#poems#bookquotes#poetrycommunity#spilled poetry#bill skarsgard#bill skarsgård#quotes#dark!fic#new wip#old wip#let’s be mutuals#let’s be friends#chaptersleftunwritten#thewrathoffemalerage#the crow 2024#romanticism#roman godfrey#hemlock grove#eddie munson#joseph quinn
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i dare you (roman godfrey x reader)
WARNINGS: foul language, mentions of sex, slight coercion, mentions of alcohol and tobacco, partying, and roman is too hot for your own good
summary: you have quite the introduction to Roman Godfrey at your first party in Hemlock Grove
word count: 1,902
"I dare you," Letha said with a laugh, having to talk rather loudly to be heard over the stupidly noisy music at the party.
"Dare me to what?" I wasn't liking the sound of this.
Letha gave me a teasing nudge; "Walk up to the first guy you see, point at his lap and ask if that seat is taken,"
I grimaced as she continued to laugh— this was definitely not a good idea. "Oh, Letha, come on,"
Having only just moved to Hemlock Grove, I had managed to make one good friend before the end of the first week of school. And me being lucky, Letha seemed to be a well-connected, sweet girl who somehow got us into the senior's party. However, this was definitely not what I had imagined I would be doing here.
"Just keep yourself busy!" Letha giggled, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me. "I want to go see Peter, I haven't seen him in weeks!"
I nodded, waving her off as she disappeared into the crowd, her blonde, perfect hair flowing behind her.
With a slight huff, I decided to accept Letha's dare and just go for it. Fuck it. Closing my eyes, I spun around on my heel, stopping with my body turned towards the sofa in the living-room. As I slowly pried my eyes open again, a little anxious about who I would lay my eyes on first, I felt my worry melt away at the sight of one of the most gorgeous men I had ever seen in my life.
I had no idea how I mustered up the courage to make my way over, but I suddenly found myself standing right before him. I blamed it all on the alcohol.
The guy slowly turned to me, his big, green eyes meeting mine. I scanned him the same second he scanned me— I revelled in the sight; all from the white shirt to the styled hair, to the way he had spread out comfortably on the couch as he spoke to his friends, oozing with confidence and charm. He put away the beer in his hand, his eyes shimmering with interest.
I had to go for it. Even if it went to shit, at least Letha would hopefully think I was cool or something. I nodded towards his lap; "Is this seat taken?"
Immediately, his eyes rounded out with a mix of both shock and fascination; I doubted that girls were usually this blunt with him. Not with the amount of sex he exuded, definitely not. However, a rather cocky smirk quickly formed across his plush, pink lips as he shifted in his seat; "Not at all,"
I sat myself down in his lap, beaming with pride. I couldn't believe I had dared to do this. My heart beat hard in my chest as I met the eyes of a few girls passing by, feeling their seething jealousy drill into my system. However, this only gave me more fuel, turning to the stranger I was sitting on top of with a smug smile; "So, what's your name?"
"I'm Roman," he said, a hint of a chuckle in his voice. It was clear that Roman was no stranger to advances from girls, his arm snaking itself around my waist, already taking liberties. "And you are...?"
"New here," I said, trying not think about how massive his hand was against my waist. "It's my first week."
"Ah, makes sense," Roman's smirk only grew, cocking his head to the side as his green eyes sparkled with excitement. "I would've remembered you somehow. And you're a senior?"
I shook my head, giggling; I was getting more drunk on this guy than the tequila Letha had given me. "Definitely not. I just know the right people,"
"I see," Further intrigued, Roman nodded, clearly amused.
I felt the need to add something; "Is that bad?"
"... Pardon?"
I shrugged, hoping to seem a little nonchalant despite the nature of the question; "That I'm not a senior?"
Roman couldn't help but chuckle, probably sensing I'd had a little much to drink. He took the opportunity to pull me closer, his other hand now resting comfortably on my thigh. I felt his hot breath against my ear; "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone,"
I felt my cheeks flush at the sound of his low, husky voice, once again visiting the question of what-the-hell-has-gotten-into-me. "Thanks," I breathed, hoping not to sound too taken with him.
"Won't tell a soul," Roman continued, voice warm like syrup, his fingers now rubbing small circles into my thigh. "Your dirty little secret is safe with me."
My body gave in to a slight shiver— how had I managed to find the smoothest talker at this party and planted myself right in his lap? "I suppose I owe you, then,"
This only seemed to delight him further, emitting another warm chuckle. But despite Roman's charming presence and how easy he was to talk to, I couldn't help but notice the twinge of something darker in his eyes, an inkling of danger poking through his exterior. And maybe it was the fact that his cologne had a subtle hint of tobacco and spice, adding an extra layer to the dangerous allure that surrounded him, but I knew it was too late nonetheless. "I suppose you do," he said, my body now pressed flush against him. "Would you care if I cash in my debt right away?"
"And what would that entail?" I hoped I didn't sound too excited.
"Oh, nothing crazy," Roman said, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear like it was the most casual thing in the world. "Just a little something that will have you begging for us to find a room."
My eyes widened with intrigue, letting out a laugh. "You seem awfully sure about that last part," My smile widened as he now ran his fingers through my hair, despite his hands being cold to the touch.
Roman bit back a smirk, his hand tightening in my hair as if to keep me in place. "What, you don't believe me, or something?"
I suppressed another laugh, his confidence humouring me. "A little kiss has never been enough to unravel my morals, that's all--" My words came to a halt as Roman dipped down to press a soft kiss on my neck, making my breath hitch. Feeling my pulse quicken, my eyes darted down to the hand he had on my thigh, realizing it had inched further up. This was definitely not going to end well for me.
"Oh, really?" He seemed to be rather humoured as well, smiling against my neck as he went in for another kiss, leaving behind a wet mark which set my skin on fire. Roman kissed up my jawline, leaving me breathless; he gently pressed his lips against my cheek before using the hand in my hair to turn me to him. "Let's put that to the test, shall we?"
I didn't have time to ponder if I'd gone crazy, letting out a shaky breath as I met his green gaze. Had this been any other guy, I would've never even considered it. But damn it, his lips looked so, so soft... I watched as his cocky smirk returned, how his eyes darkened with lust, and suddenly, I didn't even have time to give him an answer; he nudged his nose against mine, and our lips came together, soft and open.
Somehow, no one had ever kissed me like this before. The previous guys I had kissed made it feel like getting pushed squarely on the mouth and pushing back, but Roman was so insistent-- this was heaven. His lips were soft, almost silken, against my own, but there was still a hint of desire which had me hooked. I let out a small sigh of relief against him, feeling a familiar warmth spread in my chest all the way to my fingertips, aching to be closer in any way possible.
Roman's kisses were all taking. Like he was drawing something out of me which I didn't know could be stolen. I brought my fingers up to his hair, feeling my brain shut down at the hint of cigarettes and alcohol I felt against my tongue.
And there was something about him which had me genuinely considering if I should ask to find a damn room-- I wanted to be tangled up in him for as long as I could. I wanted to feel his hand further up my thigh, between my legs, his long fingers inside of me, tending to the need which was building in my body.
Judging by the way he was kissing me, I had an inkling he wanted that as well. Wanted to be closer, inseparable, to melt together and be as one, no matter where we were. At this point, I didn't really care that we were in a rather crowded room at a huge party. I didn't care that I had met him just a few minutes ago, that I hadn't even told him my name yet, that I knew nothing more about him than the fact that his name was Roman and that he had the biggest pair of hands I had ever felt against my body.
I was about to pull away and sink as far down as to ask, when I heard a familiar voice call my name with outrage. Sort of jumping out of my delirium, I turned to Letha who stood over me with parted lips of shock; "What the-- No, no," She grabbed my arm, getting me up on my feet before she looked over my shoulder, giving Roman a harsh glare. "Roman, for fuck's sake! Not this again!"
He let out a satisfied sigh, sliding a little further down the couch as he laughed; "Hey, Letha,"
I was getting dizzy. Did they know each other?
Letha turned back to me, steadying my wobbling knees. "I see you've met my cousin," she mumbled, rolling her eyes. "When I dared you to sit down on someone, I should've probably specified not to do it on him."
Roman let out another chuckle, clearly amused as he looked back and forth at the both of us. "Come on, I'm not so bad?" He turned to one of his friends, reaching for something the other guy was holding.
He was definitely not bad. Not at all. It was almost as though I could still feel his lips ghosting over mine, the soft pressure of his tongue in my mouth-- I did my best to shake it off. I wasn't brought back to the situation until I suddenly felt a tingling feeling against my hand. I glanced down, catching Roman in the act of writing something down on the inside of my wrist, making Letha groan; "Roman!" she hissed, tugging on my other hand. "We're leaving!"
"Fine," Roman looked up at me with a rather mischievous look before he slowly let go of my hand, leaving me with a pleasant burning sensation on my skin.
Before I could even protest, I was pulled away from the couch, feeling my heart sink. It was only when I turned around, meeting his gaze one last time, that I felt my mood shoot right up through the roof; call me, he mouthed.
I immediately brought my wrist up to my face when we left the living room, a beaming smile spreading across my lips when I realized he had written his number on me.
Fuck, yes.
#roman godfrey#hemlock grove#oneshot#roman godfrey x reader#x reader#writing#bill skarsgard#x you#fanfic#creative writing#roman godfrey fic
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I'm rewatching Hemlock Grove (haven't watched it in about three years, but I've seen it many times) and the opening scene with Roman made me fall for Bill Skarsgård way back in 2013 (not the gif if you haven't seen the series).
I have always wanted to write some weird Roman Godfrey fic but maybe I needed my HotD fandom to prove such nonsense was possible.
I need hd gifs though 😩
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#hemlock grove#roman godfrey#peter rumancek#romancek#ao3 fanfic#the world needs more romancek mpreg#mpreg fic#pregnant!roman#waning moon#rainbow child universe#bill skarsgård#landon liboiron#upir#werewolf#alaric piers rumancek#luca aleksander rumancek#alister reeve rumancek#archive of our own#fanfiction
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Why hello there, so you've stumbled upon my masterlist! Welcome! This is the second one. You can find the original linked below. The first one hit its limit, plus back from hiatus, so on top of a new name and fresh work, you get a new Masterlist!!
Due to my blog being strictly 18+ it's safe to assume there is NSFW content, be it some sort of drugs, smoking, liquor, smut, etc activity. So if you're curious if it is or isn't, click the fic, and read the trigger warnings provided in the fic.
Masterlists
►Original Masterlist
►Hannibal Masterlist
►Henry Cavill Masterlist
►Stranger Things Masterlist
►Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist
Divider & Header Credit to @nyxvuxoa
►The Terminal List - Ben Edwards - White Knuckled & Low Battery - Request ►Hemlock Grove - Roman Godfrey - Perfectly Imperfect - Request ►American Gods - Bilquis - Worship Me - Request ►You - Love Quinn - Take em Off - Smut Prompt Request ►The Boys - Soldier Boy - Fuck The Quiet Game - Smut Prompt Request ►The Stand - Randall Flagg - You Should Be So Lucky - DARK!FIC ►The Boys - Soldier Boy - Where You Belong - Request ►Outer Banks - Rafe Cameron - Back Off Asshole ►Sons of Anarchy - Jax Teller - Can You Come Over? - Smut Prompt Request ►The Boys - Soldier Boy - Kama Sutra - Smut Prompt Request
►Elvis (2022) - Elvis - The Company He Keeps - Request ►The Invitation (2022) - Walter Deville - Beg For It - Smut Prompt Request ►The Bikeriders (2024) - Benny Cross - Be My Old Lady - Smut ►The Fall Guy (2024) - Tom Ryder - Begging You - Smut Prompt Request ►The Bikeriders (2024) - Benny Cross - Backseat Pleasure - Smut Prompt Request ►The Bikeriders (2024) - Benny Cross - Under Pressure - Smut Prompt Request ►The Bike Riders (2024) - Benny Cross - Feel Good Tears - Smut Prompt Request
►To Come
►To Come
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My Fanfic Masterlist
My fanfics through the years from both ao3 and fanfiction.net
thinking about opening requests for some one shots soon! i also have more ideas for some shorter fics, but i want to try and catch up on what i'm already working on first
complete - story is finished
in progress - story is among my wips/currently being worked on
incomplete - not sure if i'll ever finish this story
Image credits for headers: (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)
Thank you all for the support <3
Spiderverse / Marvel
Tomorrow Never Came - Miguel O'Hara x fem reader ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 15/? | rating: M | status: in progress Say Yes to Heaven, Say Yes To Me - Miguel O'Hara x fem reader ao3 | tumblr | chapters: 1/1 | rating: M | status: complete Surprise! - Miguel O'Hara x fem reader ao3 | tumblr | chapters: 2/2 | rating: G | status: complete
HBO War / Band of Brothers
A Woman At War - Donald Malarkey x OC / Floyd Talbert x OC ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 65/65 | rating: T/M | status: complete A Woman At War (Rewritten) - Donald Malarkey x OC / Floyd Talbert x OC ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 13/? | rating: T | status: in progress A Miracle In Bastogne - Eugene Roe / Renee LeMaire ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 6/6 | rating: T | status: complete Embedded - Nate Fick x OC (Generation Kill) ao3 |ff.net | chapters: 3/? | rating: M | status: incomplete
Uncharted (video game series)
Crossing Paths - Sam Drake x OC ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 21/21 | rating: T/M | status: complete Crossing Paths Part II - Sam Drake x OC / Nadine Ross x Chloe Frazer ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 2/? | rating: T/M | status: in progress Crossing Paths AU Libertalia - Sam Drake x OC / Rafe Adler x OC ao3 | chapters: 1/? | rating: T | status: in progress
Mass Effect
Beyond the Deep - Kaidan Alenko x (Custom) Fem Shep ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 11/? | rating: M | status: in progress
More Stories (misc)
Movies
Serenity - Shu Lien x Mu Bai (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon) ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 1/1 | rating: G/K | status: complete Ameliorate - Furiosa x Praetorian Jack (Mad Max) series ao3 | parts: 3/3(?) | rating: T/M | status: in progress
Video Games
Rage Against the Dying of the Light - Astarion x Tav (BG3) ao3 | chapters: 3/7 | rating: M | status: in progress it would feel like this - Gale x Tav (BG3) ao3 | chapters: 1/1 | rating: E | status: complete The Ugly Truth - Ellie Williams (The Last of Us) ff.net | chapters: 1/1 | rating: M | status: complete A Grim Prognosis - Genji Shimada x Angela "Mercy" Ziegler (Overwatch) ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 3/? | rating: T | status: incomplete
Television Shows
Hallelujah - Charlotte "Charly" Weiss x Wilhelm Winter (Generation War/ Unsere Mütter, Unsere Väter) ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 4/? | rating: T | status: incomplete Run, Girl, Run - Roman Godfrey x OC (Hemlock Grove) ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 3/? | rating: T | status: incomplete Joanne - John Shelby x OC (Peaky Blinders) ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 8/? | rating: T | status: in progress?
#fanfiction#fanfiction masterlist#spiderverse#band of brothers#uncharted#mass effect#hbo war#long post#x reader#x oc#my fanfic
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