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cherienymphe · 1 year ago

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Bite Marks & Bruises (Roman Godfrey x Reader)

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

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies

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

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

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

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

Until about six months after you graduated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What he was doing was much worse.

“I really don’t mind walking.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I could always make you…”

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

His eyes remained on you the whole way there.

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

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

“…and Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The only person spared from that was his sister.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…and that someone else had noticed too.

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

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

You swore they weren’t as green, now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…and he knew it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The first night Roman raped you, it was raining.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sleep was finally yours.

…and then you woke up.

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

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

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

…and straight into Roman.

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

You paused at the action.

“Roman-.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

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

“…what? Roman, what are you-.”

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

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

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

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

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

…and you’d turned him down.

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

“Looking for the bathroom?”

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

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

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

“They say sex helps with that…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

His green irises glinted under the light.

“Roman…”

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

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

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

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

Pulling away, you pushed at his chest.

“Roman, what the hell?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You felt trapped.

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

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

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

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

It was a disturbing sound.

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

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

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

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

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

Roman Godfrey was equally rotten inside as he was beautiful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Roman was sound asleep when you ran.

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

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

“I can smell you!”

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

You were not alone.

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

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

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

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

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

In your despair, you accepted this truth.

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

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inklore · 1 year ago

Note

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

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

LOVE YOUUU

playful poison

— roman godfrey x (f)reader

word count: 628

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

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

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

Upon the little scheme you had devised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You haven’t earned it yet.

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

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

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

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lambtotheslaughterr · 6 months ago

Text

Conium Maculatum

A Roman Godfrey Oneshot

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 8.6k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

OONA'S MASTERLIST

request for anon

requests are currently CLOSED

all AI images are created from prompts I wrote. they are not real images.

Summary: Reader has spent her whole life treated like an outsider. All she wants is to live & be treated normally. Unfortunately for her, the only person willing to do just that is Hemlock Grove's notorious rich boy Roman Godfrey.

You felt him before you saw him. He was always watching you. Always curious. A small part of you was amused by his unwavering interest, but for the most part, you wished he would just leave you alone. Like everyone else did. All you wanted was to be treated normally. Not like an outsider.

Hemlock Grove University was nestled deep in the woods on the north side of town. You were drawn to the small, sleepy town because of their public administration program. You wanted to major in public policy with a focus in agriculture, hearing from your Aunt Lynda that the town & surrounding forest were rich with potential farm growth. It was your dream to advocate for more natural sources of farming & agriculture that weren’t run by corporate leaders but people of the rural community. Plus, it helped that you already had family in the area.

Lynda & your cousin, Peter, welcomed you to Hemlock Grove with open arms, allowing you to crash on their couch until you could get your on place to rest your head. Not long after you arrived, Peter moved on, wanting to explore north of Pennsylvania. It was a bittersweet goodbye. You were happy for Peter that he was wanting to venture out on his own but his parting left you with an unsettling feeling.

“People here are not what they seem.” He had told you. At first, you thought it funny, knowing people often said similar things, if not worse things, about you & the people in your community, but Peter wasn’t joking. He warned you to be wary of others, to not be too trustful, & that if you ever felt unsafe to leave the moment you could. You promised him you would. It wouldn’t be the first time you lived somewhere where the locals treated you poorly, but you had never seen Peter concerned like he was. It unnerved you.

But that was six months ago. And though you weren’t entirely welcomed by the townspeople of Hemlock Grove, they at least left you alone. That was except for the 6’4”, slender young man that rested against the lockers opposite of yours. You had your back turned to him but could feel him observing you.

“What do you want, Godfrey?” You questioned without looking over your shoulder at him.

You heard the disbelieving smile in his face, “How do you always know when I’m near?”

“You’re not exactly subtle.” You pointed out but were smiling, nonetheless.

Retrieving your textbooks from your locker, you stuffed them into your bag before shutting your locker & facing the wealthiest boy in town. He eyed you up down, admiring your outfit for the day like he often did. Apparently, you didn’t dress ‘normal’. But you had seen plenty of other women in your life dress the same way. They called it boho, you called it contemporary Roma.

Roman Godfrey was your stereotypical rich boy. You had met, or rather seen, plenty of them in your travels. Yet he was different in one way. He was always alone. He didn’t have a posse following him around like all the rich boys you had seen before nor did he have a different girlfriend every other week. He was always alone all the time. Like you. You thought once before that may have been why he was keen on trying to get to know you: because you were both loners. But something innate told you that that wasn’t the case. So, you kept him at arm’s length.

Resting against the lockers on your side of the hallway, you peered at him with a soft smile, “Did you need to ask me something?”

He always had questions.

“Yes, I do.” He bit his lip through a smile. He pushed himself off the wall to cross the hallway over to you, uncaring about other students trying to pass through. Your eyes never strayed from his startling blue ones. Once he was near you, he leaned his shoulder against the lockers beside you.

“How’s Peter?”

“Doing well, I imagine.” You raised your brows. That isn’t what he really wanted to ask, but Roman had a habit of beating around the bush when it came to you for some reason.

“Oh, right.” He clicked his tongue against his straight teeth, “You Rumancek’s don’t like phones.”

“It’s not that we don’t like them.” You revealed, “They’re just not necessary. If we want to talk to someone, we go see them.”

Roman nodded, likely having heard the same explanation from Peter. It came as a little bit of a surprise to you when you learned that Roman & Peter were friends. Peter had never mentioned his name before he left, but during your first week at the university, Roman wasted no time in making your acquaintance & talking animatedly about Peter & how deeply saddened he was to see him go. The ‘deeply saddened’ part you took with a grain of salt.

“Which is why, I suppose, you’re standing right here.” You added, narrowing your eyes playfully.

“If you had a phone number I wouldn’t have to seek you out, would I?” He played, his voice lowering flirtatiously.

“Something tells me that wouldn’t stop you.”

Roman pursed his lips in knowing at that, “Guess we’ll never know.”

�� Shaking your head, you pushed off from the lockers, “This conversation has been…lovely. But I gotta go.”

“Let me drive you.” Roman rushed out but tried covering it with a sheepish nonchalant smile.

“Roman…” If you could keep track of how many times he asked to drive you home on one hand, you’d need at least fifty more fingers.

“It’s going to rain.” Roman stepped forward, his arm swinging over your shoulders as he led you to the doors that went outside. You looked up at the sky, noting the dark heavy rainclouds rolling in.

“See? I’m not lying.”

You glanced up at him, “You drive a car with no top. I’ll get soaked anyway.”

His eyes twinkled perversely at that but he still carried his charming smile, “Not if I speed.”

You sighed, staring back out at the sky. It was a long walk back to your caravan in the woods, but you always enjoyed the walk. You never took any roads, rather choosing to walk the two miles or so through the woods. But you did want to get started early on an assignment & the rain would only slow you down.

Swallowing your usual refusal, you licked your lips in trepidation before looking back up at the regrettably handsome young man.

“Okay.”

Roman contained his obvious excitement but still clutched the keys in his hand in a closed fist & raised it momentarily in victory.

“Just this once, Roman.” You warned him, not wanting him to think that it meant anything more.

“Whatever you say.” He grinned, all his teeth showing.

Roman led you outside, his hand on your lower back as he brought you to his hot red two seater. While you knew a car like that was sought after by many, it was only an eyesore to you.

He opened the passenger side door & held your hand gentlemanly as you slipped in. Roman was touchy. You learned that early on in your association with him, but you never minded. To close friends & family, you were rather affectionate, as were they, so physical touch didn’t make you uncomfortable as it likely would any other person. But you did have slight concern in how far Roman would go in touching you if you continued to not say anything.

Roman sped-walk around the vehicle to his side before practically jumping in. The small car jostled under his weight as he started the engine.

“Thank you.” You told him.

“No,” Roman winked at you as he reversed, “thank you.”

Roman pulled off onto a dirt wood somewhere in the woods. Your caravanwas only a minute or so walk down the narrow foot path. Lynda helped you in purchasing one & finding a decent clearing in the woods for you to call home. But what you didn’t miss was how Roman knew exactly where to drive to drop you off.

You pressed your lips together, trying to suppress your smile. What Roman didn’t know was that you knew he would sometimes come out here at night & watch your caravan from somewhere in the woods. As you told him, he wasn’t subtle & you could always sense when he was near. It was worrisome the first couple times it happened. After all, you were a young, single woman living on her own in the middle of the woods, but Roman never made himself known. As far as he know. And he never approached. Only watched. You summed it up to be just his curiosity, & perhaps, if your innate sense was wrong, his longing for another friend like Peter.

Unlatching your belt, you began to get out of the car when suddenly your door was being opened from the other side. You hadn’t even heard Roman get out of the car, let alone race over to your side. You chuckled surprisingly but said nothing. He offered you his hand yet again as you got out. You accepted.

“Let me walk you to your door.” He suggested.

You wanted to refuse, but if there was anything you knew about Roman Godfrey, it was that he was one persistent fellow.

Saying nothing, you began to lead the way. You noted how Roman limited his naturally wide strides, thanks to his long legs, to keep in step with you. He reminded you of a golden retriever: just happy to be there.

After a minute of silently walking, save for a distant bird song here & there, you finally came to the clearing where your caravan lied in wait.

“Wow.” Roman feigned shock at seeing your caravan as if it was the first time, “It’s a nice set-up you got here.”

“Really?” You felt your brows crease as you stared at him with amusement, “Never been here before, is that it?”

“No.” Roman laughed awkwardly, trying to hide the truth, “I have no reason to come out here.”

You nodded at him, making it clear that you didn’t believe him but said nothing. He ultimately dropped the façade, looking at you in disbelief, “How’d you know?”

“Your cologne.” You pointed at his chest, “It’s pungent. Doesn’t mix well with the natural, earthy smells out here.”

“Bullfuckingshit.” He retorted but appeared mildly impressed, “What are you, a sniffer dog? How the hell can you smell that out here?”

You giggled softly, shaking your head, “A gift, I guess.”

“You got a lot of gifts.” Roman commented, “You always know when I’m near before I’m even there, now you can smell in the middle of the woods.”

“Mm.” You agreed. Turning your back on him, you were assuming he would know that was your good-bye & allow you to disappear into your little abode but the sound of your name on his tongue proved otherwise.

“Yes, Roman?”

“Are you, uh, doing anything tonight?” He asked, blinking rapidly. You watched as he reached into the inside pocket of his gray overcoat, pulling out a pack of smokes.

“Some schoolwork.” You frowned, watching as he produced a cigarette & placed it between his lips. “Please don’t smoke that.”

Roman paused, looking confused for a second before realizing you were referring to his cigarette.

“The smell.” You made a dissatisfied face, “Your cologne I tolerate. That, I won’t. If you don’t mind.”

Roman removed the cigarette from his mouth, putting it back in its pack, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You mustered a smile, “Anyway. Goodbye, Roman. Thank you, again.”

“Wait, about tonight?” He rushed out, taking a step forward. You paused just before your door.

“I’m studying.” You reminded him, not necessarily needing to hear whatever offer he had in mind next.

“You won’t have to go far.” He raised his hands, gesturing the trees around him.

“What is it?”

He smiled at your polite response, “A party. Here. In the woods. Happens every year. It’s the spring equinox party or whatever they call it. All I know is that it always happens on the full moon.”

You nodded in knowing, “A Worm Moon, yes.”

“A what?” He chuckled but was entirely lost on what you had just sun.

“A Worm Moon. It’s what the full moon in the month of March is called. In spiritual terms, it means growth.”

“Oh, cool.” Roman smirked before moving on, “I was thinking about going, maybe, ya know, I don’t really mingle with the locals.”

“You are a local.” You pointed out.

“You know what I mean.” He dismissed sheepishly, “But I thought it’d be weird going by myself, so…I thought maybe.”

“I’d go with you.” You finished for him. Roman bared his teeth in hope, “What do you think?”

“I think you don’t like being told ‘no’.” You responded coolly but kindly.

“I don’t, yeah.” Roman shook his head but laughed lightly.

“Hmm.” You nodded in thought. He was being…cute. And you hated admitting that, even if it was only to yourself. Roman had a little crush on you, that much had always been obvious, but he was really trying right now. More so, he was trying to be cool about. Not like ‘rich-guy-I’m-so-cool’ cool but a seemingly innocent ‘if-she-says-no-I-just-might-cry-so-I-gotta-be-cool-about-it’ cool. It was endearing.

“Please.” His voice faltered, “Say yes.”

Pursing your lips, you finally nodded once, “Yes, Roman, I will go to the spring equinox with you.”

Much as he did earlier when you accepted his ride, Roman raised both of his fists in victory. But he quickly tried to hide his knee-jerk response by shaking it off, “Great, cool, great.”

“You said that already.” You teased.

“Yeah.” He shrugged but his smile was as wide as it could possibly go, “Okay. Well, guess I’ll see you later then.”

“Okay.” You couldn’t help but smile back. He really was like a golden retriever.

Roman kissed both his hands before blowing waving them towards you, “You won’t regret it.”

You said nothing but waved as he walked away back down the footpath. Once he was out of sight, you sighed heavily, resting your head against the door to your abode. Butterflies flapped their wings wildly within your gut. You squeezed your eyes shut, an undeniable smile ripping across your face.

So, that’s what that felt like.

There was no mirror placed anywhere within the small confines of your caravan. So, you could only guess you were dressed enough for a party in the woods. It wasn’t that you seriously cared about how you looked but you still had that desire to just be normal. It would be enough that people at the party would likely whisper about you when they saw you, the least you could do to ease your worries was to keep it tame tonight. Whatever that meant.

You were about finished with getting ready when you paused in what you were doing. You sniffed the air. Cologne.

Roman.

And just as you thought his name, your caravan shook with the rapt knocking of his arrival.

Releasing a breath of air, you approached your door & swung it open, revealing the tall man on the other side. Even standing on the flat earth outside your caravan & he was still taller than you. It was funny.

“Wow.” He breathed out, his eyes twinkling as he took you in, “You look…”

“Normal?”

Roman’s eyes flashed to yours, “No. Better. You look like a woodland creature.”

You couldn’t help the bewildered giggle you released, “Whatever that means.”

Turning away from him, you looked for your jacket to throw on. After all, it was only March & the night would only get chillier. After slipping into the sleeves of it, you turned back around to find Roman leaning on the frame of your doorway to peer inside.

“It’s a lot bigger in here than it looks.” He observed before meeting your eyes, “Think it’d fit in here, too?”

His mischievous tone caused you to narrow your eyes playfully at him, “We’ll never know.”

Exiting your caravan, Roman backed up to give you space but again found your fingers as you took the single step down from the wooden platform below your door. You shut the door & faced him, slowly pulling your fingers from his.

“I figured we could walk. Since it’s close.” Roman suggested. You nodded in response. A night walk in the woods was one of your favorite past times.

He led the way through the woods & you found comfort in the silence between the two of you. As the two of you walked, enjoying the sound of cicadas trilling, you felt a warm near your pinkie finger. You glanced down, spotting Roman’s hand as his own pinkie intentionally grazed your own.

“If you’re going to hold my hand, Roman, then hold it.”

You watched in the corner of your eyes as he looked down to smile at you. Then you felt his hand hesitantly tangle his fingers with your own. It felt nice. Natural. What made it better was that he was being gentle about it. Roman only continued to surprise you. Though you still had your mild reservations about him, he had yet to truly do anything earn your suspicions. For now, you welcomed the warmth his hand brought to yours.

After about ten minutes or so is when you began to hear the sounds of a party happening. There was music playing & raucous laughter. You felt as Roman’s hand stiffened in your own. You frowned at the action.

“Are you okay?” You questioned, peering up at him.

“Mhmm.” He forced a smile, & it was a closed lipped one which was the biggest give-away that he was lying.

As you two grew closer to the sounds, Roman slowed down. It was a very subtle change in speed but you still noticed it. You stopped to stand in front of him. But he didn’t look at you, his eyes were cast over your head as he stared at the party nearby. You followed his line of sight, noticing how there were quite a lot of people. They were all drinking, running around, just having fun & enjoying their night.

But you understood Roman’s hesitation. He was an outsider, too. Those people, locals, didn’t entirely welcome the anomalies of society. Facing back towards Roman, you gently ran your fingers on the underside of his wrist in comfort. It was something your mother always did for you when you had bad dreams as a child.

“Hey.”

Roman’s wide stare shifted from the party behind you to your face.

“We’ll be okay.” You assured him.

“Yeah, I know.” Roman shrugged, his obvious anxiety suddenly disappearing.

You smiled up at him, “You don’t have to hide it from me.”

“Hide what?” Roman feigned ignorance. But when you kept your stable stare on his wavering one, he finally dropped the mask, “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course.” You tugged on his hand, moving him with you towards the party, “Thanks for getting me out of my neck of the woods.”

Roman smiled innocently at that.

Approaching the party, Roman & you entered the clearing side by side. Most everyone was too busy in their own doings that they didn’t notice either of you. You bit your lip, relieved for both your sakes.

Beside you, Roman released a breath of air, also noticing that no one really cared or, if they did, they didn’t make it obvious.

“See?” You bumped your arm into his, “Totally okay.”

Roman & you found a few chests near a couple tables that had a plethora of drinks on ice. He pulled out a can of beer for himself before offering you one. You accepted before giving it a taste. It wasn’t often that you drank, you had no real reason to, but tonight was a special occasion. However, you didn’t miss the bitter taste of it.

Roman noticed the look of disgust you made, trying to hide his amusement. You stared wide-eyed at him, “What?”

“Nothing. I just sometimes forget how pure you are.”

“Pure?” You laughed awkwardly. Strange word choice.

“You know what I mean. You’re not…fucking tarnished by modern day society.”

“Sure, I am.” You disagreed before peering up at him coyly, “I rode in that eyesore you call a car today.”

Roman’s mouth hung open in shock, “You did not just say that about my baby?”

A giggle escaped you at his reaction.

The night continued on quite like that for some time. You & Roman found a couple spots next to a small bonfire, nursing your second & third beers. You watched as the people around you laughed, loved, & lived, happy to just be there to witness it. In the midst of people watching, Roman had at some point placed his hand on your thigh, his fingers long enough to wrap around to the inside of it. It surprised you at first, worried he was going to try to move it close to your private area, but he kept it right where he put it & never moved it. Not even an inch. So, you forgot about it soon enough.

And then, whether it was the alcohol or just your natural desire to be physically affectionate, you rested your head on Roman’s shoulder. You felt as he inhaled deeply at that, & it made you hide your smile behind your can of beer. The moment was comforting, peaceful, & most importantly, real. It wasn’t forced on your part or an attempt to touch you inappropriately on Roman’s part. It was a genuine connection you were forming with him.

But the moment was ruined, disastrously so.

“Look, man.” A voice snickered opposite the fire from where you two sat, “Those two freaks came here together.

It would have been too good to be true really believing you & Roman could attend a normal social event without being pointed out. You felt as Roman stiffened beside you, having heard the jab as well.

You raised your head, finding the two guys who were shamelessly looking at the two of you as they laughed to each other. You sighed but didn’t let it bother you. It was nothing new. Roman, on the other hand, was clearly more effected by it than you were.

“Bet they have some of the freakiest sex you can think of.” The other one sneered.

Oh, boy.

Before you could restrain Roman, he shot upwards, his height assisting him as he stared challengingly at the two guys across from you.

“Roman.” You said his name firmly but he wasn’t listening.

The two noticed his stance & laughed at him more, one of them hollering, “Oh, what are you gonna do, mama’s boy?”

“I can bury you alive if you’d like, you stupid fucks.” Roman spit.

You rose then, your hands gripping one of his wrists to try & calm him down. But the two only spurred him on.

“Yeah? You & that witch there gonna cast a spell on us?” They both feigned fear, “Please, no, don’t. Our mom’s will actually miss us.”

“Roman.” You tried to get in front of him, in his line of sight despite him being much taller than you.

“Fuck you, man.” Roman snarled.

“Nah, thanks, we’re good.” They laughed childishly.

“Can you guys just shut up?” You finally snapped, spinning around to face them. They stared at you wide-eyed, in mild shock & amusement at your reaction.

“She talks!” One slapped the other.

You rolled your eyes, turning back to face Roman, “Ignore them. They’re just being assholes.”

“Hey, Godfrey. If she talks then you probably no what she sounds like in bed, huh? Does she chant before she cums?”

Before you could realize what was happening, Roman knocked you to the side, launching himself over the bonfire, before he latched one of his hands onto the throat of the kid who made the perverse comment.

“Hey, man, let him go!” The other yelled, trying to rip Roman off his friend.

You crawled back onto your feet, racing over to the rapidly growing violent interaction.

Roman had the kid pressed against one of the trees, his thumb digging into the larynx of his throat to keep him from breathing. The kid tried shoving Roman off, but it was clear that he was no match for the gentle giant.

“Roman!” You yelled, but he wasn’t hearing you.

He had his deadly sights set solely on the kid before him, “You owe her an apology.”

The kid struggled in his grasp, desperately opening his mouth to try & get oxygen but he would receive none as long as Roman had him in the death grip.

“We’re sorry! Fucking let go! You’re killing him!”

Everyone at the party at that point was focused entirely on Roman & the immature child on the other end of his end.

“Roman.” You placed your hand on the hand that was holding the kid by the throat.

It was only then that Roman’s eyes finally fell to yours.

“That’s enough.” You told him, shaking your head, “Let him go.”

He frowned at you, his eyes a mixture between rage & hurt.

“Please.”

At your plead, Roman finally softened, his hold on the kid loosening. The kid dropped to his butt, choking as air filled his lungs. You gently pushed Roman away from the area, needing to get him as far away as possible.

“You fucking freaks!” A voice yelled behind the two of you.

You ignored the slowly gathering voices of anger & name-calling as you led Roman back into the safety of the woods. Once you were a far enough distance, you paused to let Roman lean against a tree. He was staring wide-eyed at the ground, as if he was in a trance. You released a breath of air you hadn’t realized you had been holding as you watched him in concern. But it wasn’t of any concern for him.

“I’m sorry.” He finally breathed out, his voice soft, “I’m sorry, _____.”

You stood there with your arms crossed over your chest, staring at indignantly.

When he finally looked at you, & took in your hostile stance, he moved towards you with his hands outstretched, but you took a step back from him, shaking your head, “Don’t touch me.”

He blinked rapidly, a forlorn frown crossing his features, “I said I’m sorry.”

But you only continued shaking your head, “I knew to be wary of you.”

Roman huffed, biting his lip in frustration, “Why? Because I defended you?”

“Defending me would’ve been ignoring them & walking away from it. Not nearly killing him.” You kept your voice firm, never having been someone to yell.

Roman rolled his eyes but continued staring at you solemnly, “They were degrading you. I couldn’t not say anything.”

“There’s so much anger in you.” You commented saddeningly, “I could always see it but I never knew how deeply rooted it was in you. Now, I’ve seen it firsthand.”

He licked his lips, that anger you had seen back there returning to his eyes, “So, what? That’s it? I’m not good enough for you anymore.”

“That’s never what this was about.” You whispered, “The only person you’re not good enough for…is you.”

Roman softened at that, but his eyes watered. Your words were hurting him, that much you knew, but he needed to hear them. You cared about him enough to tell him the truth. You imagined there weren’t a lot of people in his life who were honest with him.

“The fuck does that mean?” He questioned, staring at you with his jaw jutted out as he tried to keep himself from losing it again.

“No one will ever accept you.” You told him, “Not them anyway.” You nodded back towards the party, “But I do, or did. But you want more than that. You want everyone to accept you.”

“What’s so fuckin’ wrong with that?” He spit harshly.

“Nothing.” You admitted, “But how do you expect them to accept you if you don’t accept yourself?”

You could tell that what you were saying was being absorbed by him. And it hurt your heart to see him hurting. But it was the truth. He needed to accept himself.

“I’m going home.” You told him, “Don’t follow me. Don’t hang around outside anymore. I need my space.”

“What?” He asked, his emotions highly charged, “You’re cutting me out?”

“For now.” You frowned at him, “And when I’m ready, if I’m ready, I will come to you.”

You could tell he wanted to say more but you turned your back on him. Tugging your jacket closer around your middle, you found your way in the darkness. You felt saddened that Roman couldn’t walk your path with you, but he needed to learn to walk his own.

It had been a week since you last saw Roman. And, to your surprise, he kept to your rules. You never sensed him around while at school, never smelled his cologne when at home. He was giving your space as you asked for. Part of you missed him, missed his always lingering presence & mischievous remarks, but you were still upset with him. You needed time to gather your own thoughts & feelings before you approached him.

When you did finally decide that you were ready to speak with him it was on a Saturday. You got dressed for the day, wanting to wear something light & airy for your walk through the woods. Roman’s estate was on the other side of the university, which meant a lengthy walk for you. But you were looking forward to it. It only meant that you would have more time alone with your thoughts as you trekked the three miles to his mansion & being in the midst of mother nature always helped keep you calm & in-tune with your feelings.

It was early afternoon when you finally made it to the Godfrey estate. Your boots scrunched as they carried you across the expansive front lawn that felt almost larger than any national part in the country. You peered up at the gothic style mansion as it loomed over you. There were no cars in sight, not even Roman’s. Perhaps he wouldn’t even be home. But you still wanted to try.

Knocking on the front door, you stood there for some time, gathering that no one was home, but just as you were considering leaving, the door opened with a groan, revealing an elder man in a suit.

“Yes?”

“Hi.” You smiled kindly, “Is Roman home?”

The man eyed you curiously, “And who, may I ask, is asking?”

“_____.” You told him, “A friend.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Godfrey is out at the moment. If you would like, you may wait in the den here for him to return, though I can’t tell when exactly that’ll be.”

“Oh. Okay.” It was only the afternoon. You had no obligations to make, & you did just walk three miles. A break would be okay. And if he wasn’t back by the time you thought it appropriate to leave, you would try again tomorrow.

“Thank you, I’d like that very much.”

The man nodded once before opening the door wider. You stepped inside & were reminded about just how simply you lived. You had never lived anywhere that had more than just a couple hundred square feet to it. You couldn’t even imagine living somewhere like this.

“This way, Miss.” He guided you with his arm to a set of double doors off the foyer.

Once opening them, he gestured for you to take a seat on one of the couches, “My name is Conway. If you have any questions, please, don’t be afraid to ask.”

“Thank you, Conway.” You smiled up at him.

“Before I leave, could I interest you in something to drink?”

“Oh, no, I’m okay, thank you.”

Conway nodded once before exiting the room, closing the doors behind him. The room was silent, save for the ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner. You sat still, taking in the room around you. It was beautiful, you had admit, what with the high ceiling & intricately detailed molding along the walls. You stared at the heavy looking desk, imagining Roman sitting behind it as he nursed a glass of scotch. You were unsure if that was anything he actually did, but you could see it.

After a bit longer & with no sign of Roman, you decided to take a closer look. Trailing the length of the room, you eventually found yourself at the desk, overlooking the put-together items atop it. One item stuck out, though. You fingers the frame of the picture, recognizing only one of the faces in the family portrait. Roman was younger in the photo, not much younger than he was now, but still young. He stood behind a regal woman who sat before him, her hair long & dark. She had his same piercing eyes, though hers were dark. And on either side of her were two young girls. One with blonde hair who smiled sweetly, & the other with dark hair who kept her face hidden from the viewer.

You were lost in thought, not knowing Roman had sisters as he never spoke about them, when you heard the front door to the mansion swing open followed by a resounding slam.

“Conway!” It was unmistakably Roman’s voice.

“Mr. Godfrey.” You heard Conway’s softer, more polite one through the wall. “You have a visitor.”

A pause, then “A visitor?”

“Yes, a Miss. _____.”

It was less than a second later when the doors to the den burst open & Roman stood in the doorway, searching the room for you. When his eyes finally landed on yours, his eyes softened.

“Roman.” You greeted. But he said nothing. He closed the doors behind him before quickly moving towards you. You didn’t have time to think or react before Roman had you gathered in his arms, hugging you close to his chest.

You gasped softly at the unexpected bout of affection, but couldn’t be surprised at the same time that that was how he greeted you after respecting your boundaries for a week.

“I missed you.” He breathed softly, his breath brushing the hairs at the top of your head.

Your heart softened at that, leading you to wrap your own arms around him. It was incredible to you how in such a short amount of time, Roman had become someone you cared deeply about. At first he had been amusing to you, if only slightly annoying, but his persistence to become closer to you eventually won you over.

He held on to you for some time, acting as if he was fearful of letting you go, that he would never hold you again, but you ran your hands up & down his back in reassurance. You weren’t going anywhere. Not unless he gave you another reason to.

When he finally pulled away, he stared openly at your face, as if remembering every detail of it to lock & store away in the deepest recesses of his mind.

“I’ve missed you, too.” You revealed. And you had. You weren’t lying. Couldn’t, honestly, even if you wanted to. You were raised to always be transparent.

Your admittance sparked that charming smile he usually adorned to cross his handsome European features.

“Come with me.” He exclaimed like a child excited to open a long-awaited gift.

Unable to resist his childlike enthusiasm, you allowed him to lead you out of the den & through the many halls & rooms of the estate. You had no time to admire or inspect the details of the rooms before he led you to a set of glass doors. You peered up at him wondrously. He grinned down at you before pulling open both doors & gently pushing you inside.

An amazed gasp parted your lips at the sight before you. Roman had brought you the estate’s greenhouse, & it was thriving with life. You stepped forward, running your fingers along the many different textures of plants & flowers, inhaling deeply the earthy, floral scent of the space. It was humid, as well, making you grateful you wore light clothing, but it too made you feel grounded.

You glanced back at Roman, an elated smile on your face. He returned it, his eyes twinkling brightly.

“It’s beautiful.” You commented.

“It is.” But his eyes remained on you. You looked away. Roman Godfrey, the only person in existence who made you look away in embarrassment.

“I’m glad you’re here.” He shared, walking further into the space, “I have something for you. Been wanting to give it to you ever since last week but you wanted your space so.”

“Thank you, Roman.” You caught his eyes, “For doing that. It really meant a lot.”

He nodded once, smiling softly.

�� Turning away from you he leant over a table, his hands tangling among plants & flowers alike in search of something. You tried to peer around him, curious about what it was he was doing, but his large frame made it nearly impossible. And then he turned around. In his hands, he held the stems of many small, delicate white flowers, smaller than the palm of your hand.

“It’s—”

“Hemlock.” You finished for him, staring at the beautiful, yet deadly, plant with admiration.

“Yeah.” He breathed out, grinning. “I remember you telling me about what the Worm Moon meant & I got to thinking about how all sorts of things could mean lots of things, things normal folk probably don’t even think about.”

He handed you the hemlock & you accepted it gratefully as he continued, “So, I was doing a lot of reading one night, just reading about plants & whatnot & their meanings & I came across hemlock. I was especially curious about it’s meaning, ya know, considering the town we live in, & I learned that it means, actually, a lot of bad things, I guess you’d say. Stuff like poison, gloom, sorrow. But you know what I learned?”

You knew what but you wanted to hear it from him, smiling up at him as he stared gleefully down at you, “Resilience. Potential.”

You felt the butterflies return to your insides, fluttering around madly in there.

“You were right.” Roman began, his hands cupping yours as you held the hemlock, “I don’t accept who I am. And the people of this town don’t either. Likely never will.” He chuckled lightly before continuing, “I’ve been ridiculed by them my whole life & I let it shape who I am. I let it control me rather than control it myself. But I’ve also survived this long. And…I believe I can be better, do better.”

His eyes gazed adoringly into your own, “I have potential, _____. And you helped me see that.”

“I know.” You cupped his cheek lovingly, “I’ve always seen it. It’s always been there.”

You stared at each other for a moment longer before Roman finally leaned in, his lips capturing yours. You sighed into the kiss, feeling your body relax into his touch. So natural. So right.

He kissed you for a moment longer, deepening it by cradling the back of your head. You opened yourself up to him, allowing him to feel you, mind & soul.

Then he parted from you, his forehead resting against your own. You laughed lightly & he joined you. Your sweet, soft laughter filling the space.

“Have dinner with me.” It wasn’t a question. And it didn’t need to be.

Dinner was fulfilling. You were filled with good food & good energy. Roman held your hand atop the table the whole time as you ate & drank a few glasses of wine. The wine was far better than the beer you had a week ago. The night was coming to a close though, & you were sad that you would have to leave soon.

Conway began clearing away your plates as Roman led you from the dining room & into the main corridor. You expected him to lead you to the door, but were surprised when he began leading you up the extravagant staircase.

“Where are we going?” You asked, his hand gently guiding yours.

“One more thing before you leave.” He smirked down at you.

At the top of the landing, Roman led you down another corridor with many doors. You wondered how anyone could need so many rooms & what all they were for exactly. But your curiosity was redirected when Roman brought you to a door near the end of the hallway. He opened it & led you inside.

You stared in mild awe at the size of the bedroom. And that’s all it was. A bedroom. Roman raised his arm in a grand gesture as you took in the floor-to-ceiling windows & the detailing on the ceiling. It was like a museum. Filled with beautiful, crafted pieces of furniture & the finest fabrics around the world.

“What do you think?” Roman asked, smiling in anticipation.

You marveled the room before returning his smile, “Beautiful. Again.”

“I’m glad you think so.” He bit his lip, “Because it’s yours.”

That made you stumble where you stood. You eyed him warily, waiting for him to say he was joking & that it was, in fact, his room. But nothing of the sort ever came.

“What do you mean?”

Roman gestured to the room again, “It’s your room. Now that we’re a couple, you can stay here. I mean, most nights you’ll probably be with me in my bed,” he chuckled at that, “but ya know, for when you want your own space.”

Words evaded you. It was dizzying, everything Roman said. He was moving fast, too fast for your mind to keep up.

“Roman, that’s not…” You frowned, shaking your head.

He approached you then, gripping your hands in his, “What, what is it?”

You gazed up at him forlornly, “I don’t need a room here—”

“Well, that’s okay, you can just stay in my room then, I just thought that you—”

“No, no, Roman, listen to me.” You stopped him, tightening your hold on his fingers, “I won’t be here that often. And we haven’t even discussed being a couple, I’m not even sure what that means exactly. Look, you’re moving fast. Really fast. Too fast for me. We just made up. And I feel I’m still getting to know you. I don’t, I don’t feel it’s necessary to rush.”

“But… I love you.” He stared at you, his voice soft & low.

Those words caused conflicted feelings with you. Love was a strong word. A big word. Not a word to be tossed around so easily. He was getting in over his head, again, & you needed to bring him back down.

“You don’t love me.” You retorted as gently as you could, “You hardly know me.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel.” His voice hardened suddenly, along with his eyes as his expression shifted to the one reminiscent of the night he got into that fight.

“Emotions are high, okay? We don’t have to talk about this right now.”

“Yes, we do!” He raised his voice, “I love you, _____, & you’re… I don’t know what you’re trying to say but all I hear is you not saying it back.”

“Okay…” You responded calmly. You attempted to pull your hands from his but as you did he held them tighter. Your eyes flashed to his, “Roman, let me go.”

“No.” Roman’s lips quivered, his nostrils twitching, “You’re staying.”

He tugged you closer to him. You felt your body stiffen in response, your fight or flight kicking in.

“Roman, stop this, now.” You struggled against his hold but he was much too strong for you.

“Why are you trying to leave? Why are you always trying to get away from me?” His voice shook with that same rage you heard that night.

“I’m not, Roman, stop! You’re starting to hurt me.” You gritted your teeth as you felt the bones in your fingers begin to grind against one another in his death group.

“Hurt you?” He asked blasphemously, “What about me?! You’re hurting me!”

“I’m not meaning to!” You cried out as he crushed your hands against his chest.

“But you are.” His voice softened as he gazed down at you, “No more. No more hurting. I just want to change. And you’re the only one who can help me with that.”

“And I will, but first you have to let me go.”

Roman erupted with a roar as he yanked you forward before you fell to the floor. You managed to catch yourself on your hands but weren’t quick enough to get back on your feet before Roman was on top of you, crushing your front against the hardwood.

“Roman, stop!” You pleaded with him but your words fell on deaf ears.

He then kicked your legs apart, forcing one of them to bend upwards as he made room for himself between your legs.

“I told you!” He yelled, one of his hands on the center of your back, forcing you stay down, “You’re staying!”

“No, Roman!” Panic gripped your heart & yanked when you felt him gather the hem of your dress & bunch it around your waist.

This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening! This was Roman! Soft-hearted, charming, & always making the butterflies in your stomach flutter. But they weren’t fluttering anymore. There were snakes in there now, & they were sinking their teeth in.

You heard the clinking of his belt buckle as he fought to get his pants undone.

Had you really misjudged his character? You knew he was strange, different, much like you, but you viewed those qualities as endearing. But the signs were all there. The following you around school, staking out in the woods at night as you milled about in your caravan, buttering you up with sweet words that anyone would fall for. Even his touches were gentle.

You felt a prodding at your entrance, suddenly regretting your choice to never wear underwear, having found bras & underwear a pointless form of clothing. But even if you had, Roman would have surely torn the fabric to pieces.

Roman wrapped an arm below your chest so he could capture your throat in his hand, stabilizing your struggling movement as he forced himself inside you.

A pained yelp filled the room as he stretched you beyond comprehension. You had never been intimate with anyone before, taking the idea of having sex for the first time as a serious choice. You wanted to wait until you found someone who it felt natural being with, who you could be yourself with. And up until five minutes ago, Roman was looking to be that person.

But not anymore as he took it by force, causing the most horrid cries to erupt from you.

“I never wanted to hurt you.” He grunted in your ear as his thrusts tore you apart, “Never. I only wanted to make you feel how you make me feel.”

Tears cascaded down your cheeks, the burning of his assault spreading throughout your whole body. Never before had you felt more violated. Humiliated, embarrassed, ashamed, yes, but always from strangers who didn’t know any better or were too ignorant to care. But nothing ever like this. Not from someone who you felt genuine, real feelings toward.

And he was ruining everything.

His moans of pleasure were grating to your ears, a mockery of all the feelings & sensations you were forced to endure. His hold on your throat tightened, your air becoming restricted. You cried out but it was hoarse. You remembered the sounds the kid from last week had made as Roman held him against a tree, & wondered if he was as fearful for his life as you were in that moment.

“Ro—” You attempted to say his name but the lack of air only made it come out as a wheeze.

He continued to assault you, using your body as a means to show to prove to you his own twisted devotion. You felt him everywhere. His hands on your throat & hip, his chest flushed to your back, his thighs pressed harshly against your own. There was nowhere he wasn’t touching you, wasn’t hurting you in some way.

And even when it was over, when he grunted satisfyingly as he stilled above you, he was still hurting you. You knew, deep down, that the pain he caused you that day would never leave you.

When he rolled off you finally, having remained there for some time as you both caught your breath, you felt little comfort. Your world had crashed around you & were lying there in the ruins of it. But you needed to get up. You needed to get as far away from Roman as possible.

You winced quietly as you pushed yourself upwards, your arms shaking beneath you as you did. The pain Roman caused shot through you as you bent your legs, forcing a hiss to form between your teeth. The sound made Roman look in your direction.

He quickly moved towards you, his hand outstretched in concern but as he drew closer you slapped him. Hard. His face whipped to side, your handprint leaving a bright red mark on his cheek.

“Don’t touch me.”

It seemed as if, only then, it dawned on him what had just happened. He remained on his knees as he stared through you, his eyes watering & shaking, “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry.”

His apology meant nothing. Today was the last time you ever looked past his dangerous behavior.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you felt hot liquid ooze down your thighs due to the force of gravity. You didn’t need to look down to know what you would see.

Steeling yourself, you readjusted your dress until it covered your thighs, hiding the evidence of what Roman had done. Swallowing the dinner that threatened to come up, you limped away from Roman.

“_____.” He spoke after you, his voice wavering as he cried silently, “Please don’t leave.”

Ignoring his plea, you exited the room, leaning on the wall for support as you made your way to the stairs. Half-way down the stairs, you heard Roman behind you.

“I’m sorry!” He practically yelled, begging you to stay, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Pausing on the stairs, you turned to face him one last time. You glared hotly at him, fresh tears blurring your vision, “Yes. You did.”

Your claim forced Roman’s own tears to spill down his cheeks.

Turning away from him with finality, you hobbled the rest of the way down. Conway appeared out of nowhere, eyeing you as one normally would until he realized your state.

“Miss?” The concern in his voice almost made you cry again, but you surpassed him, helping yourself to the front door.

“Mr. Godfrey, what happened?” Conway’s voice faded as you left the estate, the door left open behind you.

Gripping your abdomen, you willed yourself to make it all the way. You had to. After all, walking through the trees always brought you peace & that’s what you needed most off, even if your blood seeped from between your thighs & coated the earth.

But as you did, Peter’s parting words rang loud in your ears.

People here are not what they seem.

this is 5/10 requests from my 500 followers celebration request opening!

i am so so so so so so SO happy with this oneshot/request. i fucking LOVE roman & writing for him has been a dream come true. (also, the amount of times i accidentally types rafe instead of roman while writing this was ridiculous so if you spot any sneaky rafe's that i missed, please let me know lmao)

big shout out thank you to the anon who requested. anon, i hope you loved it as much as i did writing it, PLEASE be sure to let me know what you think.

as always, please drop a comment, reblog w reviews, or talk to me in the ask box so i can read your thoughts/feelings. they are my drug.

thank you for reading!

oona<3

Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]

taglist:

to be added to a taglist read rule 11 here. requests will be dismissed otherwise.

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #dark!roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey fanfiction #dark!roman godfrey #hemlock grove #hemlock grove fanfiction #dark!hemlock grove #dark!fic #dark!fanfiction #non con fic #conium maculatum

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marquisedegramont · 4 months ago

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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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fanfickeeper · 11 months ago

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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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helium-queen · 2 months ago

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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.

#roman godfrey #hemlock grove #bill skarsgard #fic rec

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thewrathoffemalerage · 4 months ago

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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!!

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cocaineskarsgard · 4 months ago

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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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lady-phasma · 8 months ago

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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 😩

#auntie prattles #hemlock grove #bill skarsgård #fanfiction #musings

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kingkat12 · 4 months ago

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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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voxmortuus · 2 years ago

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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

#fanfiction #drabbles #oneshots #headcanon #my writing #masterlist #fanfic masterlist #VoxMortuus

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cchickki · 1 year ago

Text

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