#wtf roman | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kingkat12 · 9 months ago

Text

the intimacy of shared silence (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, blood, pushy sexual behaviour, cuts, Roman's frontal lobe is not developed yet lol

summary: after Letha insisted you needed to know the truth about Roman, you decided you didn't want to hear it. will there be consequences, or will you be able to navigate the secrets on your own?

word count: 6,794

← previous chapter | next chapter →

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seven minutes in heaven masterlist

The intimacy of shared silence.

The quiet wince as Roman's knife sliced a tear into my finger.

The hiss he let out as the other blade sunk into his own.

I wasn't sure why my hand was shaking, but there was no way to stop it-- I watched as the blood trailed down my hand and down into the vial I held close to my skin, careful not to waste a single drop. My gaze fell on Roman, whose eyes were already on me; his pupils were unusually large, but there was a softness about him which made me forget that he looked a little spaced out.

The intimacy of shared silence as we exchanged the vials.

The steady breath falling hot against my cheek as Roman clasped the necklace around my neck.

The realization that I was wearing his blood and that he was wearing mine.

So, as we sat beneath the willow tree by the river, listening to the rustling of the vines surrounding us, I tried to comprehend what it was that I had said yes to. When Roman proposed we do this, I never expected it to be a ceremony of sorts. That's the way it felt, after all-- and that was the feeling I was left with as he got up, going down to the dock right by, dipping the bloodied knives by the water.

My finger pulsated as I realized the stream of blood wasn't stopping. I hissed, feeling the sharp sting-- Had the cut maybe been too deep? Roman sat back down in front of me, now taking my bleeding hand into his. He gripped it a little too hard, with an unnatural look of transfixion in his eyes as I bled onto his fingers.

"Rome," I tried, my free hand anxiously rubbing my vial of his blood between my fingers. "It's getting everywhere, do you have anything to?--"

I didn't get to finish my sentence before Roman brought my bleeding finger to his mouth, pressing his tongue flat against the cut. I whimpered as he licked a stripe up along the tear, and I watched him close his eyes as he savoured the deep taste of iron.

How was I to comprehend what he was doing? I couldn't deny that I found this shocking imagery thrilling, sexy even, but I didn't know what to make of it. There was nothing I could do as my hand trembled against his lips, the sharp twinge of pain making me wince with every movement of his tongue. "Ouch, Roman--"

He seemed to snap out of it, and it didn't take long before he pulled away and dragged what looked like a handkerchief out of his pocket, gently wrapping it around my finger. Roman was suddenly handling me with such care, that I couldn't help but feel warm. Or was I possibly about to faint? He pressed his lips against the back of my hand before intertwining our fingers, his own blood barely having left a trace at all.

Something about the whole ordeal was almost too intense for me to handle-- I broke out into a soft, contained giggle, meeting his green eyes. "So?"

"So, what?" Roman asked, tilting his head to the side as he squeezed my fingers.

I shrugged; "Was that what you imagined it would be?" There was a genuine curiosity behind my query; when he had brought up his deepest, darkest wish (which I was glad didn't turn out to be murder), I hadn't expected it to be this. When Roman told me he had something he inherited from his great grandfather that he wanted to put into use, I was innately intrigued.

It made my heart flutter to think he wanted to share what was practically a family heirloom with little old me, and that he had fantasized about wearing my blood around his neck. Underneath his shirts, he had said, his heart beating against the very component keeping me alive. However, when I tried to explain to Roman how devastatingly beautiful that was, he had shrugged it off-- "Nah, it would just be dope,"

Dope. I almost rolled my eyes at the memory.

Still, as Roman leaned forward to press a kiss to my lips, I could do nothing but sigh. "Yeah," he breathed, smiling against me. "It's so cool. And these things are, like, three hundred years old, too."

"What?" I felt my hands get clammy just from the thought. "Are you sure you want to give this to me, then? This is priceless!--"

"Stop it, it's yours," Roman squeezed my fingers once more, the bloodied handkerchief wrapping over his hands as well. It was at this moment that my eyes darted down, wondering whether the design was from the brand I thought it was--

I gasped; this was not a normal handkerchief. "Did I just wipe my blood on Gucci silk?!" Pulling my hands out of his, I studied the bloodied logo as Roman laughed. It dawned on me how much money the Godfrey family actually had-- if he was so careless about something so ridiculously pricey, the family fortune must've been much more than I had initially thought. Maybe I had known, but swept it under the rug for my own sanity? Because how many times had I not walked past the newspaper stands in the city and seen the face of his mother, Olivia Godfrey, on the front page followed by the words billion dollar company?

Roman huffed, shrugging; "Would you rather I let you bleed out? That would definitely taint the memory of my hideout spot,"

He was right-- I was reminded of where I was. Roman had told me he wanted to show me his favourite place after class today, the place he went to clear his head. I could argue this was the prettiest place in the whole of Hemlock Grove as we sat by a small, secluded lake beneath a willow tree. By the small dock leading out to the water, Roman and I had previously had a rock-skipping competition just before we sat down to fill the vials.

He had crushed me at that, of course.

Still, I hadn't expected him to find comfort in a place so ethereal. For some reason, I had expected something dark, like a little cave with little to no light surrounded by Satanist worship panels. That was certainly the image I had of him before we got together-- I used to imagine him bent before an altar dedicated to Satan, begging to be blessed with the opportunity for murder which he could get away with as involuntary manslaughter in the eyes of the law.

But not this. Certainly not this gorgeous scenery.

"Alright then," I breathed, watching as Roman rubbed his vial between his fingers. "Do you come here often?"

He shrugged, eyes transfixed on my blood. There was something eerie about the way he hadn't blinked in what seemed like a minute. "Nah," he mumbled, visibly absentminded. Still, he managed to slip out a crucial detail; "But I used to come here a lot when we weren't together yet and needed time to think."

"About...?"

Roman's green eyes darted at me with speed I didn't expect-- it almost made my breath hitch. There was a certain intensity about him; "You,"

"Well, duh,"

"Duh," he echoed, a smirk slipping past his cracks.

Roman's hair lay in soft waves over his forehead, and I kept thinking about how much I wanted to kiss his lips swollen. Feel his breath graze my cheek, the gentle push of his nose against mine as his tongue licked at mine-- "So you were just sitting here thinking about me? You're more of a loverboy than I thought,"

He snorted; "One more word from you about it and I'm throwing you into the water,"

"You wouldn't dare!--"

"I so would," Roman proceeded to laugh, reaching forward to take my hands into his. The touch sparked a fire in the tips of my fingers as I reveled in the feeling of his soft palms. I gave his hands a soft squeeze, and I could see him retreat a little from the present before he continued; "I don't know, I just... didn't want to let you down."

My brows drew together. "What?"

"Yeah, like-- fuck," Roman sighed, now chewing on the inside of his cheek as his smile faltered. "I sat here a lot trying to find the version of me that you might not run from. I spent most of my time hoping I had it in me to get myself together... for you."

It was a lot to take in, and some things were almost shocking to hear. Still, it was clear to me; "Rome, I think you've misunderstood..." Slowly pulling my hands out of his, I scooted forward on the grass. I watched the confusion in his eyes as I cupped his face, watching him keen against my touch. "I don't want a version of you, and I'm not planning on running any time soon. You can be yourself around me, do you know that?"

Roman put his hands on top of mine, sighing as his green eyes rounded out in a look of defeat. "Yeah, but I can get pretty... dark,"

"I know," I breathed, stroking my thumbs across his cheek. I was aware that the darker side of Roman had scared the crap out of me several times, but the stupid part of me was almost ready to let him kill me if he wanted to. "But if you get really dark, I have a built-in light in my phone that I can shine on you. Right in your face. You'll be hissing to get away, just you wait."

That seemed to do the trick-- I watched Roman crack up, laughing as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. My hands went up into his hair as I pressed a kiss to his temple, and I closed my eyes as I reveled in the moment. When our laughter died down, the only sounds left were the rustling of the leaves around us and the quiet ripples in the water brushing up against the shore nearby.

Roman's following words were muffled against my neck, but his teasing tone still shone through; "You're down bad for me, aren't ya?"

"... Shut up," I mumbled, rolling my eyes as I got ready to push him off.

Still, Roman only laughed, softly kissing my neck as he pulled me into his lap. "You're so crazy about me,"

"Stop it!--"

"Fucking carved our initials into a tree,"

"You said it was cute!-- Ah!" Suddenly, I felt a pain unlike anything I had ever felt before; it was sharp and mind-numbingly deep. It took a second or two before I realized Roman had sunk his teeth into my shoulder, and I could only whimper in pain as I instinctively grabbed a fistful of his hair. It lasted longer than I ever imagined something like this would, and I caught myself wondering when it would be over and when he'd be done, pleading with myself to keep it together. When Roman finally pulled away, I had to breathe deeply to collect myself-- I wasn't sure why tears were pressing up in my eyes, and I broke out into a nervous, quiet laugh as I rubbed my shoulder. "Ow..."

Roman flashed an apologetic smile; "Sorry," he breathed. "Got a little excited."

I kept glancing down at my shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the mark he certainly left. "What are you, a vampire or something?" I met his eyes, watching as my joke didn't land as well as I thought it would.

Roman inhaled sharply; "Not exactly,"

"... Right," My gaze fell on the vial of my blood hanging around his neck as a feeling of unease crept up my system. Was something about it setting him off?

I decided to force it out of my mind-- I was being ridiculous, right?

Still, Roman seemed genuinely sorry; "You can bite me back if you want to," he tried. "Really, really hard. Anywhere you want."

"... Anywhere?" As my evil plan formed in my mind, I knew exactly where he wouldn't want me to bite him. "Anywhere, Roman?"

His eyes widened as he realized what he had just said-- "No, I take that back! Not anywhere, no! Not there!"

It was impossible to hold back my fit of laughter. "Yes, there!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

As I laughed, Roman rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to my cheek; "Okay, I'm not letting you near my dick ever again, that's noted,"

"Yeah, right,"

"No, I'm serious!"

I snorted; "That won't last you twenty-four hours,"

"Fucking try me," His eyes sparkled with mischief-- this was going to be fun. ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I had somehow managed to get out of Roman's grip for long enough to study. It was hard to make time for it, let alone find the time for it, seeing as it was much more tempting to lay around doing nothing with my new boyfriend all day. Still, I had forced myself to go down to the public library, as school wasn't open on a Saturday.

After spending some time buying myself a coffee and finding a place to sit, I slumped down in one of the last free spots and got to work. It was tough to find a flow, and I hadn't studied properly in a while-- I had Roman to thank for that. He was a dangerously handsome walking distraction. It would probably be easier to get back to studying if he didn't give me such a hard time for running away from him, as he called it. Roman didn't realize it himself, but he was practically running around with a sign on his chest saying 'abandonment issues'.

My mind kept wandering back to Roman, wondering what he was doing, whether he was nuking my phone with messages or not, and it got so bad that I had to simply put my work away to take a breather. Why couldn't I focus? I rubbed my vial necklace between my fingers, closing my eyes; it was oddly comforting to know a piece of him would always be with me.

And just as I opened my eyes, ready to rip my mind out of the gutter, I spotted the one person I never thought I'd see at a public library-- or at any library, for that matter. "Peter!" I said, reaching out to grab his arm.

He had almost passed me without noticing me, and his wide, bewildered eyes softened when he saw who it was that had grabbed him. Peter was carrying an awful lot of books, but there was no struggle in the heavy load-- "Oh, it's you!" he said, smiling down at me. "You managed to get away from that boyfriend of yours for more than thirty minutes? Congratulations are in order!"

I snorted, motioning for him to sit down next to me. I was surprisingly happy to see Peter; "Yeah, I did! Can you believe it?"

He laughed-- "Nope. Actually, I can't. I haven't managed to hang out with him since you guys got together, so this is quite the shocker," Peter put all his books down on the table, and I must've counted about six or seven of them. He let out a loud sigh, spreading out; "What are you working on?"

"Some stupid English lit assignment," I turned my book to him, revealing my notes. "If I have to do one more essay about Charles Dickens, I'm going to explode. Seriously. Splatter everywhere with my flesh and blood staining the floor, and so forth."

"Gory," Peter prompted, nodding to himself.

Agreed-- "And you?"

Peter seemed reluctant to answer. His brown hair practically obscured his eyes, showing signs of needing a haircut soon, as he reached for the book closest to him. "The Ethical Dilemma of Feeling," he mumbled, scanning the title over and over.

He looked deep in thought as I reached for another one of his books; titles such as when you feel what you shouldn't, levels of treason and betrayal, and the art of forgiving struck me. "Dude, are you okay?" I asked, nudging him with a trying smile. I only knew Peter through Roman, but I wanted him to know he could confide in me nonetheless.

Still, he simply shrugged; "I might want to study philosophy in college... Just doing some light reading,"

Something told me he was lying his ass off in broad daylight. "Are you sure this is the stuff you should be reading then? Maybe try starting in, like, the ancient Greece section?--"

"Sure," Peter brushed it off, snapping out of his state of deep thinking. He placed his elbows on the table, turning back into the typical version of him as a broad smile formed across his lips. "Roman's jacket?"

Huh? "Roman's-- What?"

Peter's deep laugh echoed the hall, now pointing at my jacket. "It's Roman's, isn't it?"

Oh. I forgot I was wearing it today. "No, this is obviously my size," I joked, holding back an obnoxious smile. "What about it?"

"Nothing," Peter beamed right back at me, a knowing look in his eyes. "I just remember doing that with my girlfriend back in the day, before we broke up. I'm glad Roman's gotten his act together to experience that feeling as well."

"What feeling?"

"The warmth," Peter sat back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest as he nodded to himself. "It feels nice when your girl is wearing your clothes. And you can't deny he's a bit of an icicle. An arctic penguin, if you will."

It was impossible not to laugh-- "That's quite specific,"

"Sure, but it's true. An arctic penguin with a huge igloo he doesn't share with anyone,"

"Right," I hummed. "Then how come you're friends with a penguin?"

Peter lingered on the question, chewing the inside of his cheek as he thought long and hard. Finally, he answered; "Because he'd burn down the whole arctic for me if I ever needed him to. That's just who he is. He wouldn't even hesitate,"

It was impossible not to smile-- frankly, I was rather moved. "That's beautiful, actually,"

"Well... Before you make that conclusion, it might be smart to consider the possibility that he's simply a repressed arsonist,"

I nearly choked on air, coughing through my outburst of laughter. Fucking hell-- men. "I wouldn't be so surprised," I said. "But he's sweet. The whole Letha ordeal feels worth it, and... I will have him returned to you soon, don't worry. You'll get your guy back."

Peter nodded; "I appreciate that, but... what Letha ordeal?"

Did he not know? My brows drew together as I grew uncomfortable with having to retell that story. It certainly didn't make me look like the hero. "Just... how Roman and I ended up together. You know this though, right?"

"Oh, that! Yeah, Letha told me about it,"

I let my confusion be visible on my face as I shifted in my seat, moving closer to the edge to straighten up. "You talk to Letha?"

Peter blinked twice, taking a second before he shrugged; "We... used to, before Roman declared war,"

"Oh," This was certainly news to me. "And what did she say?"

He let out a rather patronizing laugh, spreading out on his chair as he stared back at me with his brown eyes. His head tilted to the side, looking at me as though I was the dumbest little thing he had ever encountered. "Nothing crazy. She mostly just ranted at me, I didn't even get a word in,"

I wasn't sure why I was freezing up. "And what did she say about... me?"

Peter sighed, growing dismissive. "This was a long time ago. I don't remember,"

"Right, right..." I felt my heart drop as I sat back in my chair, defeated. I had an inkling that Peter was protecting my feelings. It didn't take long before he cleared his throat, getting up from his chair. "Don't think about it, okay?" he said, nudging my shoulder. "You've gotta let the bitches talk shit."

"Yeah..."

Peter sighed, sending me a soft smile as I finally looked up to meet his wonky smile. "I'm gonna go give all this crap back and look at the ancient greek philosophy instead. Thanks for the tip. And good luck with the Dickens shit."

I snorted, nodding as I realized I had to get back to work. "I'm gonna have the time of my life, thank you,"

Peter laughed, grunting slightly at the full weight of the books. "I see... And good luck with our favourite bloodsucker, tell him I said hi,"

I felt my heart drop, watching Peter walk away as I dwelled on his last words. Bloodsucker. I inhaled a sharp breath; putting my hand on my shoulder, it felt as though the bitemark Roman had given me was pulsating against my palm. Peter had used such a specific word, and I couldn't put my finger on why I was so shaken up about it. Then I remembered Roman sucking the blood off my finger--

No. This is nonsense.

I got about an hours load of work done before I decided I was done for the day, and I had developed a really bad headache. The clock had barely struck three, but it felt like the day was over already. I was so, so ready to go home and call Roman.

On my way out of the library, I had to pass a section called folklore-- and this was when I caught myself stopping in my tracks.

I stared at the book in front of me for a good minute. I couldn't look away.

The Avoidable Vampirism - The Upir.

... I had no idea what came over me as I reached for it, reading the back page;

The ficticious entity of the vampire has scared generations of human kind. However, there is a much more damning creature that walks our earth which should be the real concern; the upir, the slavic prototype of the vampire branch, is born a cocoon of an age-old curse which is ready to take over the human body through the tragedy of suicide. Upirism lives beneath their skin, scratches at their teeth, and corrupts their minds through dark urges in constant attempts to drive them to the edge of genesis. Do you suspect you are a upir, or do you recognize a darkness in your loved ones?

My heart beat hard in my chest as I stopped reading, not wanting to hear any more of it. I wasn't sure why this book was making me so nervous, why my mind was spinning with thoughts I knew were absolutely ridiculous-- I reached out for my necklace, rubbing the vial of Roman's blood between my fingers as my thoughts raced.

I certainly had no idea what came over me as I went over to the counter nearby and signed the book to my name. No idea whatsoever as I stuffed it down my bag and hurried out of the library.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Later that day, I had my usual reoccuring stream of thoughts; this was nice. I could live like this forever.

Roman's hair was incredibly soft. I wondered whether he used a specific shampoo to make it so silky to the touch, or whether it was the typical thirteen-in-one shampoo all men seemed to be using these days. Maybe it was just a Roman thing-- maybe his hair was magically perfect all the time, and his skin was always perfect and smooth. I had no way to be sure as I caressed his cheek, feeling the weight of him on top of me as we laid in my bed around midnight.

I placed a kiss to the top of his head, my free hand gently raking through his silky locks of golden-brown hair. Roman didn't allow me to hold him like this very often in the start, but now, it was hard to get him off of me for even one second; when I managed to discreetly flip him over on me when he fell asleep, he let out a long, light sigh as his head laid against my chest.

I could hold him like this forever. Feel his breath against my body, be in awe of his long lashes; now that he was asleep, I could finally stare without getting a weird look-- Roman was so beautiful. The annoying part was just how aware he was of this.

So I held him. Watched him sleep in my arms as I stroked over his back in gentle motions, feeling the soft fabric of his sweater against the tips of my fingers. It was all worth it in moments like these, when Roman wrapped his arms tighter around me in his slumber-- he shifted, making himself comfortable with a short, airy grunt.

Why was that so cute? I could be sure I was whipped now that I found his little noises to be endearing. Even in moments where he'd snore for a few minutes, I listened in pure awe.

I liked to imagine that Roman enjoyed this part of our relationship-- the normalcy. There was nothing in the world I wanted more than to bring some stability into his life, as I felt he didn't get much of it at home. I had yet to get more information about that out of him; he never talked about his family. Still, I was happy to lend him mine.

Roman shifted on top of me, a short groan escaping him as he stirred. He was awake-- "What time is it?" he breathed, voice groggy from his sleep.

I glanced at my phone on the nightstand; "Ten minutes past twelve,"

Roman groaned once more, burying his face in the crook of my neck. "Do you think I could stay over again?"

"Sure," I mumbled, twirling a strand of his hair around my finger. "My parents don't mind." They truly didn't-- I think they were a little relieved their daughter wasn't a complete social disaster with zero friends and no boyfriends in sight.

Roman hummed, pressing lazy kisses to my neck; "I was waiting all day for you to finish your English lit reading, and then I fall asleep when I finally get here," he mumbled, words muffled against my skin. "Definitely not what I had planned."

I could only laugh-- his kisses were almost ticklish. "And what was your plan, exactly? You seemed pretty dead when you came here,"

"Shut up," Roman propped himself up on his elbows with a soft grunt, getting a better look at me and my grin. His lashes were hanging heavy over his eyes, his face grazed by the remnants of a deep wish to sleep longer-- I wanted nothing more than for him to lay back down and sleep for as long as he wanted, so that I could hold him just a little more. Still, he blinked repeatedly in an attempt to wake up; "Want me to tell you my plan, though?"

I reached forward, stroking a strand of his hair away from his forehead. "Sure,"

"I thought..." Roman nudged my nose with his, making my smile widen. "We could ease into a little something."

"Ease into what?" Ironically, this was starting to make uneasy.

Roman rolled his eyes at my expression, pressing a tender kiss to my cheek. "Don't look so scared," he said, the raspiness of his sleepy voice sending a warm shiver down my spine. "I just want to be closer to you."

"Closer?" I mumbled, tugging softly at the tips of his hair as I felt his lips curve into a smile against my skin-- something told me my cluelessness was humouring him.

The soft push of Roman's lips left a trail of kisses up my jaw; "In every way possible," His voice lowered as he shifted, making more space for himself between my legs while he pressed himself further up against me. "I'm just a little in the dark about where to start with you."

I wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean. To keep my mind occupied from spinning, I closed my eyes and tried to focus on how nice it was to be kissed this way-- there was no doubt in my mind that Roman was crazy about me, with the way he was handling me with care. Right now, I only felt pampered, loved, and still slightly worried about what he had meant.

"Just don't want to scare you away," he continued, his hot breath ghosting over my skin. "Knowing you haven't done this before..."

"Done what?--"

Oh.

My lips formed an 'o' as it started to dawn on me. Roman's soft laugh brought me back to earth; "Catching up?"

"Sure am," I mumbled, letting my hands rest at his shoulders. I hoped they weren't too clammy as my heart quickened. "I don't know, Rome... Like, now? You want to do this now? Weren't you asleep just a second ago?"

With a short sigh, he shifted, his green eyes shimmering with amusement. Roman leaned in, angling his face so that our noses weren't bumping; "We keep putting it off," he whispered, brushing his mouth against mine, gently pulling my bottom lip with his own. "I don't see why we should wait. I want to be with you like that." He repeated his action, and I let my breath hitch as my mouth fell open-- the soft push of Roman's lips against mine made my heart thud in my chest, feeling the tips of my fingers burn as I pulled him closer, kissed him deeper.

It was as though there was an innate ache in my body for Roman which had been with me since the first time he had smiled at me in that one class. Since the first time I cried about him, since the first time I kissed him, and since the first time I ever properly laid eyes on him. It was impossible to fight, impossible to ignore-- I was almost clumsy with the way I held onto his hair, wanting him closer, closer, closer.

I was sure he felt it too; it felt as though he wanted to devour me whole. If he truly wanted to, I was convinced I'd let him. Still, as Roman's impatient kisses pressed against my lips, showing the hunger he had been suppressing, I couldn't help but feel the small droplets of uncertainty dripping down my forehead in a continuous torturous cycle.

Maybe I had been too forward, maybe I had somehow signalized that I wanted to do it right now, I wasn't sure-- but my anxiety was making me feel suffocated. "Wait-- Wait," I breathed, unsure why I was suddenly so dizzy.

Roman hummed, pulling away just slightly; I could feel the small string of saliva still connecting our lips as his hungry, green eyes found mine. "What?"

"We can't-- Not now," My attempt to steady my breathing failed, and I kept scouring his face for any traces of disappointment. "My parents are next door, I--"

"So?" I could feel Roman's heart beating against mine despite his calm composure. "It's fine. I've got you. Do you not trust me?"

Oh no. "That's not what I'm saying," I tried, reaching forward to touch his face as he propped himself up on his elbows once more, pulling away to get a proper look at me as he scanned me repeatedly for answers. "Roman, I'm trying to tell you that I'm nervous."

He remained still, but his brows drew together-- he looked cross with me, this way. "What for?" he said. "What is there to be nervous about? It's just me."

Sure, Roman had a point, but he was saying it in a way which was probably harsher than intended. "I know that," I traced my thumbs over his brows, hoping they'd soften. "I just don't want to jump into it too fast..."

"Too fast?" he echoed. "We've been dating for, like, a month and a half all together. How is that fast?"

I had to take a deep breath-- I hated the feeling this was giving me, the unease that settled in my chest. "Look, you were sound asleep five minutes ago, and now you're telling me you want to have sex. Can I breathe for a second?"

"Breathe away," Roman grumbled. "Need an oxygen tank? I'll get one for you. But if you have an inhaler laying around, that would be swell."

I could only roll my eyes, pressing myself as far back into my mattress as possible-- having him hovering above me right now wasn't the most pleasant thing, and I found myself wanting to crawl away. "I just feel that we should talk about it before we really get into it..."

Roman started to look fed up; "What is there to talk about?"

"I don't know! Like, uh..." I dug my finger into his shoulder, poking him. "Condoms!"

"Condoms?"

"Yes, condoms!"

"What about them?" he said, grimacing. "You scared of latex or something?"

"No!" This was getting frustrating-- "You'll wear one, right?"

Roman shrugged; "If you're not on birth control, sure,"

I was taken aback by his compliance. I had expected him to be one of those guys to refuse it. "Okay... That's a start," It took a few seconds before I felt myself relaxing, letting my fingers trail down his shoulders in a long, slow motion. "But I don't want to do it with my parents in the house... It feels weird."

Something about Roman softened, and he hummed as he pressed his lips gently against my cheek. "They wouldn't hear a thing," he purred, wrapping his arms around me as his kisses trailed down my jaw, his hot breath soon fanning over my neck. My jaw clenched as I closed my eyes, unsure whether to give into the temptation and the warmth creeping up my veins as Roman kissed and caressed me-- still, my hesitation made my body rigid and hard like a glass doll, on the verge of breaking into a million tiny pieces. Why wasn't he hearing me?

"I just want to feel you," Roman whispered, his wet lips grazing my collarbones as my breath hitched. "Wanna make you feel good, hear you moan beneath me... You have no idea how much I want you, hm?"

My cheeks burned by the time I felt his tongue against my skin, swiping along my collarbone, making me shiver-- it broke me to hear him say he wanted me. Broke me in the most simple way. I could feel the gears in my brain falling apart, feel my body resist my defensive reflexes. I had to fight against every screaming nerve in my system to place a trembling hand on Roman's shoulder; "Rome--"

It was almost as though he didn't care, drunk on being so close to the edge of my compliance. "It's just me," he whispered, placing a particularly wet kiss against my throat. "Nothing to be scared of. Don't you want me, baby? Don't you want to make me feel good?" I felt Roman's fingers peeking up the hem of my shirt, and my breath caught in my chest as he pushed the fabric further up my body, his greedy hands touching me in a more incessant way than ever before.

I do, I do, I do-- but on these terms? It was damn near impossible to think clearly, especially as Roman forced a knee between my thighs, pressing himself against my center. I was sure I whimpered, melted a little, possibly even bucked my hips up along the added pressure, and he didn't waste any time brushing his mouth against my parted lips.

And just as Roman was about to properly kiss me, his hands almost at the clasp of my bra, his thigh pressing further up against the apex of my own, I found the strength to squeak out a tiny stop.

Stop.

It echoed. Over and over.

It was as though Roman had stopped breathing-- I couldn't feel his warm breath against my cheek anymore. My eyes were pressed shut, my body shivering as I exhaled. It was only now that I heard my heart pounding through the silence. "I want to," I whispered. "Just not now. Not now, not-- not now."

It was only when the silence persued that I dared to slowly pry my eyes open. To my surprise, I hadn't heard or noticed Roman getting off of me. He had sat up, letting my legs crease at his thighs as a reserved and quiet demeanour fell upon him. It was rather unnerving to see him like this, not blinking, simply observing as he stayed mute. No snarky comment, nothing.

I took it as my queue to engage. I had to ask the question that had been bothering me. Still, I didn't expect my voice to be so frail; "Did you... come over today only for this?"

Roman didn't react, raising his hand to run his fingers through his hair. "I came over to see you," he mumbled. "Is that a crime?"

"You said you planned to ease me into this,"

"I say a lot of things,"

I sighed; "Can't you just be honest?" Propping myself up on my elbows, I hoped he'd see I was being sincere. "I'm simply trying to understand you."

Roman remained stoic, his green eyes dulling as his head tilted a little. It was starting to turn into a patronizing glare. "Okay, you want me to be frank? I'll give you honest," He leaned forward, his knuckles planted into my mattress. "I wanna fuck you. Rather nicely, by my standards. Over and over, until you get so cockdrunk you can't speak. But what I can't understand is that you don't want me that way. I literally wear your blood around my neck, but you don't even want to?--" He stopped. A second passed. "... Have I maybe misunderstood?"

Roman's gaze softened into one of confusion; "Do you not feel that pull? That feeling of... wanting me?"

"Of course I do!" I squeaked, sitting up. This was making me panic. "Of course-- Roman, of course!"

He scoffed, retreating in every sense of the word. "Sure,"

Roman's hair fell over his eyes as he lowered his head, and I could see the hints of a small smile peaking through. His next words came out with a low laugh; "I guess I won," he mumbled. "I lasted those twenty-four hours."

I was reminded of our little bet by the water, and I stared at Roman with a dumbfounded expression as he got off the bed. I couldn't believe that he was throwing a bit of a hissy fit because he didn't get laid. Still, I hated that he thought I didn't want him-- "Rome, come on!" I scooted to the edge of the bed. "Where are you going? Don't tell me you're leaving?"

I felt hopeless as Roman grabbed his phone, now glancing around my room to see whether he had forgotten something else. "I'm not sleepy anymore, I'm fit to drive," he mumbled, reaching for his jacket which I had worn earlier today to the library. "Don't stay up too late--"

"Roman!" I reached forward, clasping my fingers around his wrists. "Stop it! I don't want you to go!"

He finally turned to me with a cold look in his eyes, the moonlight dipping into the colour of his hair. "I'll call you,"

His words were chilling-- "Stop it," I pleaded, my grip around him tightening. "Stay. Please stay."

Roman raised his hand to kiss the back of mine before he pried me off him. He stepped towards my window, opening it. "Goodnight,"

I didn't make it to the window in time to stop him, and I watched him ascend my roof with a choking feeling in my chest. I groaned when he was out of sight, doing everything in my power not to kick the chair nearby. I wanted to sink into the ground as I buried my head in my hands, slumping down against the wall.

What on earth had just happened? Why did Roman shut down on me like that? I had been dead sure we were past this...

I wanted to sit like this all night, wallow in sadness and confusion. Maybe if I stayed by my window, Roman would come back up and tap against it, asking to be let back in? He'd apologize, sweep me up on my feet, and tuck me back into bed as he laid down next to me. He'd stroke my hair, kiss my cheek, let me cry into his shoulder as I slowly drifted off into sleep--

I couldn't understand anything. It was hard to process. Did I do something wrong?

So I stayed on the floor until my back hurt, until my eyelids threatened to close shut and carry me to slumber. Fuck it, I didn't have the energy to get back to bed. So as I laid down on the hard wood, I shoved away my library bag to make space for my body-- it was only when I heard the thud of one of the books falling out of it, that I was snapped out of my drowsiness.

The blood in my necklace felt boiling hot. My eyes focused on the title, adjusting to the dark;

The Avoidable Vampirism - The Upir.

... I was suddenly not tired at all.

(a/n: thank you so so much for reading if you've come this far, and thank you for all the love and engagement!!<333 AGHHH MWAH MANY THANKS AND MUCH LOVE!!<3)

← previous chapter | next chapter →

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seven minutes in heaven masterlist

tagging those that seemed interested!!<333:

@mentallyscreamingsincebirth @putherup @corawithfanfiction @vladsgirlxx

@iamaslytherin0 @sexualparkour @the-universe-is-complicated @heavenly-bratt

@lafemme-nk @namiusedbubble @useyourwandbro @strmborns @literally-lani

@virgosapphire79 @star-girl-04 @veyzus @ddipotassium @pecxiebu

@mil88691 @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @katifefe @sn0wybowie-blog

#roman godfrey #hemlock grove #roman godfrey x reader #x reader #bill skarsgård #fanfiction #oneshot #bill skarsgard #angst #fanfic #highschool!au #hemlock grove fanfiction #peter is wilding a little isn't he #and wtf is roman on omg what am i doing to these characters #ANYWAYYYYYY

331 notes · View notes

shouyuus · 9 months ago

Text

colorimetery

kuroo; 1,843 words; fluff, lapslock, no "y/n", abuse of extended metaphors, none of this makes sense, kenma is the most in-touch person in this entire fic and that should tell you something, awk!kuroo, whipped!kuroo

summary: in which kuroo is down bad for you and nothing much else happens

a/n: @seiwas this is for u! u asked for kuroo and i humbly deliver :) hope u liked it bby; fun fact, a lot of these colors are pulled from the gamblin oil paints website bc i love their paints and also i love the thought that a lot of pigments were poisonous way back when and ppl were just... casually poisoning themselves while making their art; there's a metaphor in there somewhere... but i'll leave that up to interpretation lol

─── 鉄朗 THERE ARE COLORS he doesn’t know the names for, just like there are birds who will sing songs that no human will ever understand, but somewhere between the viridian of a sun-lit forest and the minor trill of a mockingbird’s call, he finds the shape of you.

and he doesn’t remember exactly when he’d started feeling like this, only that he’d woken up one day to a pastel sky, heard the tell-tale blip of a message from you, and felt his entire body flush vermillion, hard enough to poison.

c’mon, bedhead. time for school.

he grins down at the message, his lips pulling wide, his fingers still blunted by his honeyed dreams (how many of you? don’t ask him — he’s long since lost count) as he types out a reply.

be there in three.

he stumbles out of bed in the raw sienna sunrise, pulling on his uniform pants, shoving the hems of his un-ironed white shirt into the waistband before dashing out the door. he finds you haloed in liquid gold, standing on his doorstep, flicking through your phone before you notice him and your face breaks into an earth-rending smile.

kuroo feels dizzy, punchdrunk, a sake-shot of fire sizzling down his front till it pools in the base of his belly as he pulls on his shoes and tries to hide behind a well-timed cough.

“c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” he brushes passed you, but not before reaching out to ruffle at your hair, savoring in the midnight-soft of your tresses as it slips through his fingers.

you bicker the entire way to school, picking up kenma somewhere along the way. he casts you both a tired, reproachful look before slouching off ahead of you, content to resume whatever game he’s currently hyperfixating on while you and kuroo snipe at each other a few steps behind him.

“you could just ask her out,” kenma says during free period, his eyes never leaving his phone screen as he mashes at the attack button, watching the health bar of the boss monster dwindle even as kuroo makes an indignant sort of choking noise.

“w-what? she’s just — she’s just a friend.”

but at the scathing look kenma darts his way, kuroo finally relents.

“i — we’ve been friends for so long i just… i don’t wanna fuck it up, y’know?” he cards a hand through his already mussed up hair, eliciting a string of giggles from a cluster of girls sitting behind them, heads bent in towards one another, their long hair swishing like willow branches in a mid-autumn breeze; but neither of them take notice.

kenma heaves a world-weary sigh, grimacing as a large WIN!! image flashes across the face of his phone and he slumps back to frown at kuroo.

“i feel like you’ve built up enough affection points to unlock whatever good ending she’s got for you by now, so,” he pins kuroo with a pointed look, “i don’t think she’s gonna say no.”

kuroo can only blink, his mind churning around this strange yet apt analogy.

“aw man, you’re the best, y’know that?” he laughs, reaching over to catch kenma in a headlock, digging his knuckles into the crown of kenma’s head even as he struggles fruitlessly to get free.

it is in the cadium orange glow of sunset, after your art class and his volleyball practice, that kuroo finally works up the courage —

“hey uh — can i ask you something?”

you hike an eyebrow, a dangerous grin sharpening the shape of your lips.

“didn’t you just?”

kuroo lets out a frustrated sigh, “fuck you, you know what i meant.”

you laugh, the timber of it ringing through him like church bells on a sunday morning, and suddenly, he wonders if this feeling might be what inspired the ancients to worship at the feet of so much divinity — just this, the giddiness and anticipation, the knowledge and uncertainty. this, the insurmountable weight of something (call it love or infatuation, he doesn’t care) pressing down on his chest hard enough to rob him of every last breath.

he think that perhaps this is all anyone’s ever needed to start believing in magic.

“okay, okay,” you say, stifling a grin behind pink-pursed lips, “what did you wanna ask?”

“go out with me,” kuroo blurts out, well before he can stop himself. and he almost wants to sink into the earth with the way his entire body goes hot, the aftermath of a tectonic shift, the pluming heat of a volcanic hiccup.

you stare up at him, your expression curiously blank as he watches you, desperate for any sign of your answer, the most minuscule tells of how you might be feeling.

finally, you cock your head and ask, “was… there a question in there somewhere?”

kuroo almost swears*. almost*.

“fuck — fine! i meant — will you —”

“yes.”

“— it’s just i’ve — wait, what?” kuroo freezes, staring down at you with slack-jawed disbelief, blinking as if he doesn’t quite understand what you’re saying.

you allow yourself a smile, and kuroo feels his insides melt to something very much like molten marshmallows.

you let out a sigh that sounds remarkably like kenma’s — exasperated and amused in equal measure — before glancing back up at him with a bashful smile.

internally, kuroo wonders if this is what being “k.o-ed” feels like and he resolves to be just a bit more merciful to all of videogame opponents.

“i said yes, you big volleyball-obsessed oaf —”

“oh,” kuroo says, still not quite sure what he’s supposed to do from here.

you roll your eyes and turn back towards the sidewalk, taking a few steps before twisting your head to look at him.

“aren’t you gonna walk me home?”

kuroo nearly trips in his eagerness to level himself with you, but once he does, he straightens his shoulders and puffs out his chest.

“so —” he says, in a stab at his usual carefree bravado, “do i get to call you my girlfriend now?”

you shrug, “sure, if you want to.”

kuroo deflates ever so slightly, “what? you don’t want me to?”

you slant him a look that makes his knees turn to jelly.

“yeah, i do. but that won’t matter if you don’t, right?”

“i — i do!”

“so then…”

you turn your back on him again, though he’s sure this time he catches it — the dash of sweet magenta, swept across your lips like a kiss, or a promise.

or, the thought licks up the back of his throat, tantalizing — the promise of a kiss.

“oi.” he jogs to catch up with you, reaching out to sling an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to press his lips into the thick of your hair, breathing you in, losing himself in the familiar smell of your shampoo — green tea and apples, or something of the sort.

you laugh, and he basks in the sound.

by the time he walks you home, the street is gilded in goldenrod yellow, your shadows stretching long beneath you, the slant-wise light painting everything in an ethereal glow.

“well,” kuroo says, shoving his hands into his pockets, if only to keep them from fidgeting, because guys like him don’t get nervous. at least, not like this.

“well,” you echo, letting your voice linger over the ‘l’, letting it twist around your tongue, the sound lulling at the top of your palette till kuroo feels his stomach catch.

“see you tomorrow?” he asks, cursing himself internally for sounding so uncertain. since when has he been so uncertain?

your lips twist into a tease, just a fish-tail flicker, and kuroo knows he’s done for.

“do you wanna stay for dinner?” you ask, just as he opens his mouth.

“unless you don’t —” his voice jerks into an abortive breath.

somewhere behind him, a raven fluffs out it’s feathers on the low-cut wall that separates your house from the rest of the street. a single black feathers flutters to the ground, dark as an oil spill.

“unless i don’t what?” you ask.

kuroo swallows around his thundering heartbeat, feeling the last dregs of sunlight seep from the far horizon.

“i was gonna say… unless you — you didn’t wanna say goodbye,” he admits, his eyes flicking away from your face if only to give himself a momentary reprieve from the intensity of your gaze.

you purse your lips, shrugging up a shoulder, a single lock of hair slipping from its place behind your ear.

“i never do. c’mon — or else they’ll start eating without us.”

kuroo is speechless as he watches you make your way up the shallow steps to your door, glancing over your shoulder towards him. he doesn’t know how many times he’s stayed over for dinner, how many times he’d lingered in the perfumed warmth of your room while you showered, flipping absently through the latest volume of jump, how many times you’d fallen asleep with your damp hair slowly soaking into his school uniform.

he couldn’t count them all if he wanted to. and he doesn’t really want to.

he takes a breath and takes the front path two steps at a time, leaping up the staircase with a smirk as he skims his palm along the top of your head. you make a sound like an annoyed hamster and kuroo allows himself a laugh that bubbles up and up and up till it’s spilling over, till he pushes open your front door and is greeted with the familiar sandalwood radiance of your front hallway, the light pooling around his ankles as he toes off his shoes.

“hey,” you say, and he turns around, only to find you leaning up on tip toe to brush your lips against his.

he freezes, but you’re pulling back already, shrugging off your coat, shouldering off your school bag and shouting down the hallway to ask what’s for dinner, and to say that kuroo’s here.

kuroo finds himself caught in the sharp cerulean blue of your laughter like the rain-washed sky, the smoke-ridden darkness in the shades of your eyes, he turns to see you blushing, even as you motion for him to follow you into the dining room. he does, only tripping over himself once (though he’s been feeling wobbly since this afternoon, when he’d resolved to ask you out in the first place).

and he tells himself that, yes, there will always be colors he doesn’t know the names of, bird songs he will never be able to understand. but colors, he can learn. and as for the birds — well, he figures that they’re all probably singing about falling in love anyway.

TAGLIST: @yaoduriaa @ominouslywritinginmyhead @naomihatake @cheesypuffkins87 @crispynutella @dira333 @stunies @phroggii @fennecnco @encrytpta @simpingdailyforthem @ryescapades -- join the taglist!