#what a fucking asshole

[kingkat12]

pretty (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: mentions of sex, angst, hurt/hurt, dark!Roman

summary: don't you just hate it when people turn out to be different than what you thought they were? Roman was certainly not who you thought he was when you started sleeping with him, either.

word count: 2,041

a/n: author is in a situationship, so you best believe I'm dragging y'all down with me<333 MWAH, enjoy;)

All I had ever wanted in life, was for Roman to be pretty.

Quiet, compliant, and pretty.

But keeping a dog chained to a flagpole was a bad idea-- it would always strive to claw its way out of its prison, tugging at its restraints till the pole came crashing down to the ground with unimaginable weight. 

Not that one could ever restrain Roman Godfrey, though. I figured that'd be impossible. How could anyone tie down someone so restless? 

Which is why I wished he would simply be pretty.

Pretty, and only pretty.

Pretty, and not a person.

The more I got to know Roman, the more I suffered with the weight of his sudden personification. But the more he came over, the longer he stayed through the night, the more I'd notice the small things-- he loved asking about the pictures of my friends on my nightstand. I had no idea why. He loved picking up the shirt he had earlier wried over my head, pressing it to his body to laugh about how small it was compared to him. He loved digging through my jewelry box, too, to try to fit the rings over his fingers-- every time, with the same notion that it could maybe, maybe work. 

Spoilers; it never did.

The more he laughed, the more I got used to the sound of it.

The more he smiled, the more I missed the sight of it.

And the more he looked at me, the more I missed him.

Roman had a scar on his right cheek. Right beneath his cheekbone, grazing his skin. At first, I could only dare to trace it when he slept soundly next to me, but now, it had become a habit. He allowed me to reach over and touch it any time now, gently stroking my thumb over it whenever I wanted-- his eyes would flutter shut, and his chest would slowly raise with his next inhale every single time without fail. It calmed him. 

I wish I didn't know it. I wish I had never found out. I wish he hadn't let me. 

I wish I still thought about Roman as just a pretty face.

I hated that he was suddenly a person.

It would've been easier to bear, had he not been-- that his focus wandered, that is. It would've been easier to stomach the fact that I knew he was still sleeping with Ashley Valentine, that he usually took a smoke break behind the school with Veronica Walters when I had physics class, and it would've been much easier to stomach that I walked in on him going down on Jennie Martin-Poulter in the girls' bathroom the other day. I had only seen the bottom of his shoes, and his other hand which shot down to steady his body as Jennie's leg quivered just within sight, but I knew. I knew immediately. 

I also knew that Roman was no longer just some pretty guy I occasionally hooked up with when I needed release. Roman had become someone to me.

It made me nauseous to think that Jennie could've reached down and stroked her thumb over the scar on his right cheek while he was busy between her legs-- did she know that he never failed to make the same sound if you touched it when he was aroused? It was like a soft purr, a mix between a sigh and a groan. I wondered whether any of the other girls knew about similar buttons to push on his body, whether they knew secrets about him that I didn't.

It wasn't surprising that everything would simmer and come to a boil for me; this wasn't my first time falling for a recreational hookup. So, when I laid on his chest that same night and burst into tears, I knew I should've expected it.

Roman didn't say anything. I had allowed him to smoke in my room, so he was busy savoring the nicotine seeping into his lungs. He simply put his hand on my hair, lazily stroking through it as I spilled my silent tears down onto his skin. Was it that he didn't need to ask to know what I was feeling? Or was it that he had perhaps been through this before? Eventually, he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of my head; the simplest of gestures, yet the sweetest of many previous ones. "What's going on?" he asked, voice soft. "Did I go too hard on you tonight?"

I shook my head, sniffling as I shifted. 

Roman sighed, pulling the covers over us a little higher. "Do you need to just let it out, or do you wanna talk about it?--"

"Stop being sweet," My words were quick, biting.

"... Oh," he breathed, nodding to himself. It didn't take long before he put out his cigarette. "Look, I know that this is mostly sex and whatnot, but if you need to talk about something, this is usually the moment where--"

"No," 

"No?"

"No, I don't want to talk about it," If I did, he'd never come over ever again. But maybe that was what I needed? I blinked away my tears, hoping to clear my vision; "Or... I don't know."

Roman remained quiet for about a minute. The beating of his heart was steady against my ear as he resumed playing with my hair, twirling it around his middle finger in the silence. "This is a very typical girl thing, believe it or not," he mumbled. "I don't get why you girls don't just say what you want straight away. I know you'll tell me eventually."

"Maybe I enjoy dragging it out?" 

"Why?"

"Because I get more time, that way,"

Roman hummed, glancing up at my ceiling. "Time with me?"

Fucking hell. Did he read thoughts now, too? "Yeah," I breathed, feeling my heart hammering in my chest. I knew he could feel it too.

"I'm not going anywhere, though," Roman pulled his fingers away from my hair, laying his hand flat against my head, stroking me with his thumb in a gentle motion. "I can stay the night if you want? I don't have anywhere I need to be in the morning."

It was too inviting, too tempting. If I could fall asleep like this, I wouldn't deny myself the pleasure. "Okay," I mumbled, nuzzling up against his warmth. "Just be gone in the morning, please."

Thankfully, Roman didn't seem to mind my bluntness. I felt his quiet laugh against my cheek, luring itself into the depths of my mind. "No problem,"

My heart ached; I knew what my next words were, I knew I wanted to say them, yet I struggled to let them out from the pit in my chest. This was for the best. I needed to say it. This was for the best, this was for the best, it was, it really, really was-- "And... don't answer my calls anymore,"

I could feel Roman's confusion. The way his breath remained steady, yet how his shoulders tensed. His hand laid calmly against my hair, yet I could feel the unease in his fingers. "Can I, uh..." He cleared his throat. "Can I ask why?"

How was I supposed to explain this in a way that made sense? I had no idea. I just wanted to ball myself up into the fetal position and sob. Would he hold me if I did? Knowing Roman, I knew he would, but mostly cause he'd feel bad-- I hated that I knew he had a conscience. "You've become too real to me," I breathed. "My heart can't take it."

"... Oh," 

My tears welled in my eyes again, and they rolled down the side of my face and joined the dried ones on Roman's bare chest. "You're so warm," I whispered, letting my voice break as I nuzzled into him. "I hate that you harbor warmth."

Silence laid itself over us like a blanket. Roman glanced around my room-- was he maybe memorizing it, just in case this was the last time he'd be here? I wondered whether he cared, or whether he was bored. But then, he spoke; "So... okay, I won't answer your calls anymore, but will you answer mine?"

I squeezed my eyes shut. Why was he making this harder? "I don't think so,"

Roman's hand stilled, no longer drawing circles into my hair. I could hear him swallow. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Why did he care? I needed him to stop if he did.

"I wasn't even clingy this time," he mumbled, heartbreakingly fragile. "I didn't do anything."

"I know--"

"Am I really that unbearable?"

... What?

I raised myself off of Roman's chest to get a proper look at him-- my brows were drawn together in confusion as I watched the insecurity coating his every breath. My mind felt like it was caving in on itself; this made him so much more real. When would it end? Who could've guessed Roman Godfrey had abandonment issues? It was clear as day, now. "You're not," I tried. "And that's the problem."

"That I'm... bearable?"

"Yes,"

"That you like me?"

My words were bitten down like I was fighting them back-- "Yes," 

Roman's green eyes hit me like a punch to my gut. They were so unbelievably pretty, just like the rest of him, where he looked up at me with his hair messed up by post-coital rapture. His next words were painfully soft andvulnerable; "Thank you for liking me, then. Not many people do,"

My vision became blurry with the incoming rush of tears. Everything about that was heartbreaking. "Everyone adores you, Roman,"

"No," he breathed. "But that's fine. At least I'm pretty, right?" 

What followed, was the most thought-wracking moment of the evening; the corners of Roman's mouth pulled into a small smile, yet it hit me how rehearsed it was. How quick he was with it, how easy it was for him to mask everything in an instant. The realization crashed down on me like a blow to the back of my head, like a flagpole crushing me with its whole weight.

Keeping a dog chained to a flagpole was a bad idea-- it would always strive to claw its way out of its prison, tugging at its restraints till the pole came crashing down to the ground with unimaginable weight. 

I was the dog. 

I was the dog.

I was the one chained up, not Roman.

Chained to my fear, chained to the restrictions I had set up for myself to protect my heart. Because here he was, laying out his.

"Fuck," I breathed, shifting-- I sat up, watching his green eyes round out. Roman's fingers came to rest on my hips, softly laying against my skin while I propped my hands on his chest for support. "You're going to be the death of me."

Roman let out a soft laugh; "I am?"

"Oh, certainly," I muttered. "Because I'm about to say something very, very stupid."

Beyond amused, Roman bit down on his growing smirk. "Shoot,"

I had to claw myself out of my prison-- I tugged at my restraints, letting it all fall down on me as the words escaped past my lips; "I'll take it back if you dump the other girls,"

Silence.

I held my breath.

Roman's brows drew together, confused, and he stared up at me like I had said something unbelievably outrageous, like he could've never imagined I had thought something so shocking in the first place. "You'll... keep me around if I dump the rest?"

"Yes," I breathed. My heart thumped painfully in my chest as I laid it out for him to take.

... And Roman took it, alright.

It was this moment he had waited for all along, since the moment we started sleeping together. He knew he could get me here, break me down, and get these words out of me. He knew I would be perfect for his usual schemes. He knew, he knew, that it would all be worth it in exchange for the look of heartbreak flashing before my eyes and my admission of feelings.

That was the thrill, after all. The validation.

Every girl he had ever been, had ended up right here-- ready to be eaten alive.

Roman took my heart into the palm of his hand, and with his next condescending laugh, he crushed it to pieces with the most beautiful, cruel smile; "Oh, sweet, sweet girl," he purred, letting the blood run down between his fingers with complete and utter glee--

"You're delusional."

[queerautism]

Oh boy. Watching the newest James Somerton video. First 8 minutes, he's already suggesting he plagiarised other marginalised queer people because he's just a cis white man and wanted to put more different experiences in his videos so they would be for all queer people 😔 and also it's basically all the algorithms fault really 😔😔

[palmtreepalmtree]

Do you have a 'this fucking guy' at your office?

Like a person who every time they walk away you think 'this fucking guy' and shoot the bird at their departing back?

Cause I got one.

[mjfass]

*Ricochet*

[literole]

"if you want to try and find an alternative, you have very little time to do so"

almost sounds like the bells hells (gods) have very little time to counteract the hubristic behavior of ludinus daleth (the wizards of aeor)

[mistrias]

this is the ONLY post i will make about it today but i was going through old notes and i just got to my write up from LAST SUMMER that i wrote because he was being so mean to me and read a line where i joked about having a boyfriend and he said "you with a boyfriend? yeah right" so he IS dead to me actually

[yaoishida]

um. the FUCK ?

[suck-mein-pokeballs]

If you use your position of power at work to fuck with people's income or bonuses over small technicalities I fucking hate you and you fucking suck just fyi

[f4ggydog]

I just saw someone on twitter call a black person a white supremacist because he said there are lots of resources to go to check out diy hrt and if that isn’t the most peak twitter moment ever…I sincerely hope that person gets bullied irl like u should get beat up till ur black and blue for that honestly

[schimmelspore]

Sometimes you make a friend. Sometimes that friend gets excited and ropes you into forming a fire Performance group. Sometimes that friend then goes on to be annoyed by having to work as a group even though he started all this. Sometimes that friend then goes on to treat all Performances as personal inquiries for him to perform and stops talking much with the group he founded. Sometimes that friend starts doing solo Performances under the groups Name without eher telling any of us.

Sometimes you decide that thats not a friend.

[sir-adamus]

can someone please kill Tansu

[areptvclown]

HELLOOOO PLOT TWIST

Count your days Michael Chen

[sweetalnazar]

Man i am still reeling over that one person

[thesundanceghost]

cant believe i was fucking slandered on airbnb with??? completely false and made up complaints???? and the guy is just leaving me on read

[thefrogwhobarks]

One of my favourite JRPG moments was meeting this old man in the caverns who cryptically predicts that calamity will kill your party, then getting barred from leaving said caverns by a giant fucking robot named Calamity.

Much later, you meet his granddaughter, who tells you that she descends from a generation of accomplished giant fucking robot engineers.

[ragnarockz]

i have to keep reminding myself im only part time because i will legit go fucking insane