#roman godfrey x reader

[cherienymphe]

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.

[nyxvuxoa-writes]

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

👉👈Thank you 👉👈

Imma go hide in a dark corner now...

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

𝑨 𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝑽𝒊𝒆𝒘

Roman Godfrey x Fem!Reader

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

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

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

◢ Word Count: 2.6k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes go wide. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[inklore]

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?” 

[erinfern0]

paint the sheets red

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

masterlist | request info

[valeskafics]

"Quid Pro Quo" - Roman Godfrey x Reader

Summary: Roman and you move past the line of being best firends.

TW: profanity, innuendo, sexual situations, p in v sex, mentions of ex being a cunt, fucking without protection (wrap it before you tap it, kids), period sex, blood kink, biting, oral sex f receiving while on period, semi public sex, it's roman

Word Count: 1,988 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hemlock Grove characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

“Roman. Roman. Jesus fucking Christ, have you heard anything I’ve said?”

Roman Godfrey quickly snaps out of his trance and meets your eyes, flashing you a toothy grin, “Kinda.”

You let out a huff of frustration, “I’m just gonna start venting to Peter or Letha. You never listen to me-”

And Roman’s out of it again. He’s watching your red-stained lips form the words, but he can’t hear them. He’s too busy imagining what they’d look like wrapped around his dick. Best friends? Yeah, right. He can’t remember a time when he thought of you as just a friend. Well, maybe when you guys were five and got in trouble for sneaking into the White Tower when you were five, but he digresses, he thinks he may have tried to kiss you back then too. He was always a precocious little thing.

Then, as he’s taking a deep inhale from his cigarette - which he absolutely should not be smoking on school property, he senses it. The corners of his lips curve up into a Cheshire cat smile as he turns to you, still rambling about the shitty date you were on last weekend.

“You on your period?”

You give him an extremely unimpressed look, hands on your hips as you glare up at him, “Fucking excuse me?! You’re so fucking annoying!”

You stomp off to class as he calls after you excitedly, “Is that a yes?”

You turn back and flip him off with both fingers, trying to ignore the butterflies you feel in your stomach at hearing his laughter. It’s cliche as fuck, falling for your manwhore of a best friend. You’ve been with him through everything, his dad’s death, everything with his mom, and now? This whole… Upir thing. You still think that he’s just a fucking vampire, but he wants to argue semantics. Fucking brat.

You take your usual seat beside Peter, who sits in front of Roman, in your English class. Roman’s eyes are fixed on you, a fact that remains unknown to you as the guy who sits in front of you tries his best to flirt with you. And, much to his chagrin, you’re flirting back. Roman knows he probably looks like a pouting child, glaring daggers into the back of your head as you giggle at some absolutely idiotic joke the guy makes. What’s his name? He looks like a Chad.

Fuck you, Chad, he thinks to himself, ignoring Peter’s amused grin at his antics.

Then, you glance back at Roman and give him this infuriatingly cute fucking little smirk before turning back and continuing to flirt with “Chad”. Roman is gripping his desk so hard he thinks that his fingers might leave indentations on the cheap wood it’s made of. He grits his teeth as he the breeze carries your scent his way, nearly driving him fucking insane. He swallows thickly, watching as you lean over and grab a tampon out of your purse before sticking it in your pocket and raising your hand, asking to go to the restroom.

Fucking knew it, he grins to himself.

Roman watches as you saunter off out of the classroom, completely ignoring him, apparently trying to teach him a lesson for earlier.

“Man, poor Y/N,” Peter mutters to Roman, “It’s too bad her ex wasn’t into period sex. It really helps girls.”

Roman’s brows fly up to his hairline, “Wait, what?”

“Dude,” Peter gives him an incredulous look, “Do you ever listen to anything she says? She’s your best fucking friend-”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, back to the period sex thing,” Roman interrupts him, “Jake wasn’t down to fuck when she was having her period?”

“Yeah, he was kind of a dick about it, actually-”

Less than a second later, Roman’s hand is in the air and he’s raising his hand, asking to be excused, under the guise of a bathroom break. He dashes off to the yearbook staff office, where he knows you always go when you have to use the bathroom at school, complaining that the other ones are all fucking disgusting. He sees you exiting and immediately pushes you back in, locking the door behind the two of you, giving you a cheeky little grin.

“No.”

“What-”

“No.”

“I didn’t even-”

“I don’t even need to hear it,” you cut him off, “Read my lips! ‘Forget it’!”

Roman lets out an aggravated sigh, “Yeah, that’s my fuckin’ problem, isn’t it? Always looking at your lips.”

You knit your brows together in confusion before shaking your head, “God, you’re fucking weird. Look, we need to go back to class-”

“We should fuck.”

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a deadpan expression as you speak, your voice completely flat and devoid of emotion, “What?”

“We. Should,” he leans in, his lips nearly brushing against yours as he speaks, “Fuck.”

“Okay, A, we’re best friends-”

“Irrelevant.”

“B, we don’t see each other that way-”

In a moment of uncharacteristic earnestness, Roman mumbles, “I’ve always seen you that way.”

You feel the heat rush to your face as you clear your throat and attempt to make your third and final point, “And C, I’m on my period.”

“Baby,” he grins, moving his hands to grab your hips, pulling you flush up against him, “I’m an Upir. You really think a little blood’s gonna scare me off? No. Besides,” he leans in and whispers in your ear, “I heard period sex helps make you feel better. I’m not Jake. I wanna fuck you, make you feel good.”

His words go straight to your core as you rub your thighs together, desperate for some friction, “In the school bathroom though? Really?”

“What, you too good to fuck in the bathroom?” Roman teases, his eyes crinkling at the side ever so slightly as he holds back a laugh.

You roll your eyes, “Well, I mean… It’s not ideal…”

“We can’t go to my house. My mom’s home. Can’t go to your house. Your grandma’s home,” he pauses, “Well, she is old, no one would believe her-”

“We’re not gaslighting my grandma, you asshole!” you barely hold back the laugh that threatens to burst from your lips, “Okay, fine, here.”

Roman grins, watching as you walk into a stall and rid yourself of your tampon and underwear, feeling quite vulnerable when you walk back out. You press your legs together and shift your weight from foot to foot, yelping when he picks you up and places you on the bathroom counter with relative ease.

“Jesus, you could warn me!”

He rolls his eyes and presses his lips against yours. Roman was your first kiss, back in middle school. A brief meeting of lips in the Sworn twins basement, during a game of spin the bottle. But this is different. His lips meld against yours, gently biting down on your lower lip, a silent request for you to open your mouth. You readily oblige him, allowing Roman to deepen the kiss, moaning into his mouth as his tongue moves against yours. His lips move along your jawline, biting down on your neck, his fangs protruding just enough to graze against your skin, leaving a small cut. He quickly laps at the blood with his tongue, moaning at your taste. He moves to sit on his knees in front of you, lifting your legs over his shoulders.

“Roman,” you murmur, “Are you sure?”

He nods eagerly, “Look. You get your pussy eaten. I get blood,” he waggles his eyebrows at you jokingly, “Quid pro quo, Clarice.”

You wrinkle your nose, “You did not just say that-”

Your protest turns into a soft moan as you feel him press an open-mouthed kiss to your pussy, throwing your head back. You feel his tongue delve deep inside you. For a moment, you feel shy, embarrassed even, but the way Roman is moaning against you makes you think he’s enjoying the feeling just as much as you are.

Roman laps at your warm, wet folds, reveling in the taste of you. His nose rubs against your clit and he knows that the two of you probably look like a fucking sight right now, but he can’t bring himself to give a shit. Not with you, tugging on his hair, grinding yourself against his lips. He doesn’t believe in God or any of that, but he thinks that this is the closest thing to heaven he’ll ever feel, his face buried between your thighs.

You let out a quiet mewl of his name when he nuzzles his nose against your clit, increasing the intensity of his movements, driving you closer and closer to the edge. You feel the coil in your stomach start to wind tighter and tighter until he nips at your clit lightly, making you let out a moan of his name as you spill yourself on his lips. Roman smirks to himself, placing a kiss to your inner thigh before moving away slowly.

You feel mildly embarrassed by the fact that he has blood coating his lips and chin, but he doesn’t seem to mind one bit as he licks his lips, staring at you, a strange combination of hunger and adoration evident in his eyes.

“I… Can we?”

You nod eagerly, leaning forward to unbutton his jeans, grinning when you palm at him over his boxers, seeing that he’s already hard. Roman playfully bats your hand away, pulling his boxers down, revealing his long, veiny cock to you. You lick your lips in anticipation, making him smirk at you, lifting your chin up to gaze into his eyes.

“My eyes are up here, baby.”

You scoff, about to make a snarky comeback when you feel the tip of his cock pressing against your cunt. You wrap your legs around his hips, moaning as he slowly pushes into you. Roman keeps his eyes on you, admiring the way you bite down on your lower lip, how your eyes scrunch shut. He smiles at the sight, leaning in to kiss you. Your lips meet his and you taste yourself on his lips, making you moan against him as he begins thrusting into you slowly, his hips rolling against yours at a languid pace.

“This helping?” he murmurs against your lips before kissing you again.

“Yes,” you whisper back, wrapping your arms around his neck, bucking your hips against his, a silent plea for him to move faster.

Roman readily obliges, increasing his pace, resting his forehead against yours, those intense eyes of his boring into yours.

“Keep your eyes on me, baby,” he demands, “Tell me who’s making you feel this good.”

“You are, Rome,” you moan out, gazing up at him through your lashes, “Fuck, I’m so close.”

“Me too,” Roman mumbles, his hand moving to rub against your clit, making you squeeze around him even tighter, “C’mon, baby, come for me.”

“Roman,” you moan out as your climax hits you, washing over you like a tidal wave of pleasure.

Roman pulls out, spilling himself on the floor, grinning at you before leaning down to kiss you again, loving the way your lips, swollen from his kisses, feel against his own.

“I have to tell you something-”

“I need to tell you something-”

The two of you look at each other before bursting into laughter, you speaking first, “Um, I kinda like you.”

“Cool,” Roman leans in, kissing you on the forehead, “I kinda like you too. So you’re kinda my girlfriend now.”

“Guess you’re kinda my boyfriend now, then,” you hop off the counter, Roman grabbing a few paper towels to help clean you up, “Nah, dude, go wash your face first. We can’t leave the bathroom with you looking like a fucking axe murderer.”

“The only thing I murdered was your-”

“Stop,” you give him a warning look, “Don’t even-”

He waves you off, “I won’t, I won’t,” he pauses before grinning and blurting out, “Pussy.”

“ROMAN FUCKING GODFREY!”

[psychwxrdd]

you try to breakup with yandere! roman godfrey

🎀: not bill being arrested for smoking the zaza lmao let my man be happy. this is something short i wrote on halloween last year and i felt like sharing today

warnings: yandere, obsessive love, dark themes, implied kidnap, horror, gaslight

"You don't mean that shit" Roman laughed. As if you just told the funniest joke he ever heard.

"You bet i did"

He keeps laughing, genuinely. He puts his hand on his chest, trying to calm down.

"You'd make a brilliant comedian" he nods his head, staring at the floor.

You felt so angry, so small. You hated not being taken serious.

"Grow the fuck up! You know this is not a joke, i fucking mean it, i'm done with you" You said sternly. The way he stared at you made you feel chills on your spine. He came closer, sitting next to you. He sighed. His hands caressed your cheeks.

"Look at me sweetheart" you didn't wanted to, you tried to stare at anywhere else, but the way he grabbed your jaw forced you to make eye contact "Repeat yourself, c'mon"

"I don't wanna do this anymore!"

"Then i guess we have to make you want this again"

Roman easily carried you on his shoulder and it happened too fast for you to react. You tried to scream, but he had his hands covering your mouth.

"Shut up baby", he told you as he walked to the attic, your desperated cries for him to stop weren't doing anything to him. Actually, he thought the sounds were very lovely.

He threw you as if you were nothing, your head painfully hitting the floor and you couldn't hold the loud sobs anymore.

"I let you hang out with those bitches for once and see it, this is how you start acting. You're gonna stay here untill you learn how to behave, and you're gonna act like my sweet y/n again. Yeah? You got that? Nod for me if you understand"

You nod, softly.

"There you go. I love you, sweetheart, but you can't keep hurting me like this... I'm not the bad guy for wanting the girl i love to respect me, you know? It's all on you." He stood closer to you, and you shifted, scared of what he would do "I will do anything i can to keep you mine, don't try me. I'm not afraid of doing anything that means you stay here forever."

[storiesforallfandoms]

i don’t ever wanna see you with him ~ roman godfrey;hemlock grove

word count: 2551

request?: no

description: after he gets jealous of her best male friend, she decides to put him in his place

pairing: roman godfrey x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

Roman Godfrey was spoiled and entitled. Everyone in Hemlock Grove knew that. He was the heir to the massive empire in their small town, so it wasn’t a surprise that he had a sense of entitlement. That entitlement tended to extend to his romantic relationships, too. Roman was often very possessive and jealous over his girlfriends. Most of them liked that, most of them viewed it as hot and endearing.

(Y/N) was not one of those girls.

She and Roman had met through (Y/N)’s best friend, Peter. He was enamored with her the minute he laid his eyes on her, and, secretly, (Y/N) had felt the same way. Not that she would ever tell him that. She had been warned about Roman before she met him. She wasn’t about to give into him so easily; she made him work for it - for her. And he really did put in the work until (Y/N) trusted his commitment to her and agreed to date him.

There was one issue about Roman, though, and that was his jealousy towards (Y/N) and Peter’s friendship. He thought he kept it lowkey, but both Peter and (Y/N) knew. They both knew Roman better than he thought they did. They could see when his eyes darkened whenever he looked at them. They could see his jaw tighten whenever (Y/N) laughed at something Peter said. They could see the way Roman always needed to be touching (Y/N) whenever the three of them were hanging out.

It wasn’t that Roman didn’t like Peter. When it was just the two of them, they were the best of friends. It was Peter with (Y/N) that Roman didn’t like. And that was what pissed (Y/N) off. Peter had been her friend long before he was Roman’s, and long before Roman and (Y/N) started dating. And that’s all they were - friends. There had never been any sort of romantic feelings between them, and there never would be.

That’s why (Y/N) was walking up to Peter’s trailer on her own on a sunny afternoon. He was laying in a hammock, his eyes closed as he soaked up the sun. Upon hearing her footsteps, he opened one eye and peered over at her.

“Where’s your shadow?” he asked.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “He’s not that attached to me.”

“He may as well be a wart on your ass, (Y/N). Especially when it comes to me.”

“He’s certainly a pain in my ass,” (Y/N) muttered. “Move over, I want some hammock.”

Peter chuckled and shuffled over slightly. (Y/N) got into the hammock, laying with her feet towards Peter’s head and her head towards his feet. The hammock swayed with the motions before it settled again.

“He doesn’t know I’m here,” (Y/N) said as her body relaxed into the swaying fabric.

“What?” Peter asked.

“Roman. I didn’t tell him I was coming.”

“Is that healthy? Like, for your relationship.”

“I didn’t lie to him or anything. He’s busy with some family shit, so I haven’t even heard from him yet today. If he were to ask, I’d tell him I’m here.”

“And then he’d show up and kick my ass.”

(Y/N) sighed and rested her head back against the hammock. “Do you think he’ll ever stop being so...”

“So Roman?” Peter finished. (Y/N) nodded. “It’s hard to tell. His entire life he’s been surrounded by enablers, or he’s been under the control of his insane mother. I think we’re the first people to treat him like an actual person and not like he owns the world. So either we could help him, or he’ll annoy us both to a point where we can’t deal with him anymore.”

The latter option was what worried (Y/N) the most. She loved Roman, other than his jealousy he was an amazing boyfriend who loved and cared for her so deeply. She didn’t want to lose him, but she knew Peter had a point about if Roman couldn’t control that jealousy. She couldn’t live the rest of her life wondering how Roman was going to react to every guy she interacted with, whether it was friends, co-workers, or just random guys she ran into on the street. And she definitely was not going to be made to choose between Roman and Peter when she had known and been friends with Peter the longest.

She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. Peter knew what she was thinking. It wasn’t the first time they had this conversation.

They fell into a comfortable silence. There really didn’t need to be any conversation. This was the first time in quite some time that the two were able to spend time together and actually enjoy it. So that’s what they were doing: enjoying their time.

The enjoyment didn’t last too long, though, as they heard a car pulling up in front of Peter’s place. Peter’s mom’s car was already in the driveway, so there was only one person it could be. That suspicion was confirmed by a car door slamming and Peter rolling his eyes when he saw whoever it was approaching. (Y/N) huffed out a sigh as she prepared herself for the argument that was undoubtably coming.

“You two look comfy,” Roman commented.

“We are,” Peter responded. “Wanna join? you can lay across us.”

Roman glared at him before turning to (Y/N). “I was trying to call you. Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

She looked down at her purse where her phone was, which she had left on the ground when she climbed into the hammock. She gestured to it. “It’s too far away for me to reach. And my phone is on vibrate, as it always is, and you know that.”

His jaw clenched. (Y/N) felt her frustration reaching its peak.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here?” Roman asked.

“Well, for one, you haven’t responded to my texts at all today, so it’s not like I’ve even been talking to you today,” (Y/N) retorted. “And two, you don’t own me, Roman. I’m not required to tell you every single thing I’m doing or where I’m going.”

“You do if you’re hanging out with other guys by yourself.”

(Y/N) swung her legs over the side of the hammock and stood up so quickly that Peter nearly flipped out of it. She approached Roman with such ferocity that Roman took a step back before she reached him.

“Let me tell you one thing, Roman Godfrey: I’m done with this jealousy bullshit. I am not your property, I am your girlfriend. You do not control where I go or who I’m friends with. Especially when the person in question is my best friend who I’ve known way before I met you. This dark, entitled rich boy bullshit might work on other girls in this town, but it’s not working on me. If you want someone to put up with that, then you may as well find someone else to be your girlfriend, cause I can’t do this anymore.”

She picked up her purse and put it over her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Roman asked as she started walking away.

“Anywhere that’s away from you!” she hissed. Over her shoulder she added, “I’ll talk to you later, Peter.”

~~~~~~

(Y/N) was home by herself that night. Her parents had gone out to some kind of function, and had asked if she wanted to tag along, but she told them to go on without her. She felt like she needed some time alone to come to terms with what had happened that day.

Peter had texted her asking if she was okay, but she hadn’t responded. She wasn’t upset with him by any means, as he didn’t even do anything wrong, but she just felt like she didn’t want to talk just yet. When she did respond, it was going to be to tell him she wanted to forget everything that had happened that day and to move on as if everything was normal, minus the fact that she and Roman were no longer together.

Roman hadn’t texted or called at all. She wasn’t sure if it hurt more that he hadn’t, or if it had hurt less.

She was sat in the living room, half paying attention to some movie that was playing on TV, when a knock came at the door. The sudden sound startled (Y/N). She wasn’t expecting anyone, and she knew her parents weren’t either as they weren’t even home. She figured it might be a door to door salesman, or someone trying to talk to her about the Lord, although it seemed too late at night for any of that. Either way, she stood from the couch and went to answer the door.

Standing there, leaning against her doorway, was Roman Godfrey.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him.

“Can I come in?” he asked in return.

“Not until you answer my question.”

“I came to talk to you.”

“You have a phone, which I know you know how to use because you were blowing mine up before you came to attack me and Peter.”

“I wanted to come talk to you in person. You’d be more likely to answer the door if you didn’t know I was coming than to answer your phone if you knew it was me calling.”

Okay, he has a point.

(Y/N) reluctantly stepped aside and gestured for Roman to come in. She closed the door behind him and led him towards the living room. She had been sat with all the lights off before Roman knocked and hadn’t realized just how dark the room had become. She switched on a small table lamp and muted the movie before sitting back in her spot on the couch.

“Your parents aren’t home?” Roman asked.

“No, they’re gone to some gala for dad’s work,” she responded. “Don’t get any funny ideas. We’re not together anymore, remember?”

Roman winced, as if her words had physically harmed him. “Yeah, I know. That’s what I came to talk about.”

He sat down next to her on the couch, but left a respectable distance between them. She appreciated that it seemed like he wasn’t trying to be too pushy towards her or anything, at least not yet.

“Go on then,” she said, waving her hand at him. “Start talking. What was so important that you had to come down from your castle to speak to the commoner?”

Roman scowled at her. “You know you’re not a commoner.”

“Compared to you and your wealth I am. But that’s not the conversation we’re having right now. Whatever it is you wanted to say, say it, and then I’ll decide whether or not I want you to leave immediately.”

Roman sighed and ran his hands through his hair. (Y/N) quickly glanced at the dark brown strands that were between his fingers. His hair was always incredibly soft. (Y/N) always loved to run her hands through his hair and seized every opportunity to do so. She had to look away just as quickly and shove down those painful memories. She couldn’t let herself break and go back to him just because of something so trivial.

“I’m sorry.”

The words shocked (Y/N) so much that she almost physically jumped when he said them. They were words she had very rarely ever heard said with such sincerity coming from Roman’s mouth. She had heard it in sarcastic mutters under his breath whenever his mother chastised him for something stupid, or said to defuse a situation that was getting a little too heated, but this wasn’t in either of those ways. This time, he actually meant it.

“Can you say that again?” (Y/N) asked.

Roman chuckled and rolled his eyes. “I said I’m sorry.”

“One more time.”

“(Y/N), I do have more to say.”

“Yeah, but this is what I want to hear.”

Roman shook his head at her, a smile threatening to break out across his face. “Look, what you said earlier, at Peter’s, you were right. You are my girlfriend, not my property. I shouldn’t have been so possessive and attempting to control your friendship with Peter. I just...every time you two are together, I’m reminded about the fact that you and Peter are close, and that you’ve been close for a very long time. I know that Peter isn’t as much of a prick as I am, some would say he’s an actual nice guy I guess. I know there’s nothing between the two of you, but there’s always been this fear in the back of my mind that maybe...maybe that could change. That you would want Peter more than you want me.”

There was hurt in his big green eyes. His confession surprised her because Roman always seemed so confident in himself. It was one of the first things she had ever heard about him, about how cocky he was.

“Why did you never tell me before?” she asked.

Roman shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to seem like a crazy, possessive boyfriend. I didn’t realize I had already been acting like that. I actually thought I was hiding it well.”

“Yeah, because showing up to Peter’s place because I didn’t answer my phone is totally not a crazy, jealous boyfriend move.”

He chuckled. “Okay, touché. That was not one of my better moments.”

“None of how you were acting was one of your better moments,” (Y/N) said. “I would’ve much preferred you to have told me how you were feeling instead of bottling them up and allowing yourself to treat your best friend like garbage whenever we were hanging out.”

Roman cringed. “I did treat Peter pretty terribly, didn’t I? God, he probably hates me.”

“You’re definitely not his favorite person right now, but I’m sure you can get back in his good graces by acting like an actual person and not like a jealous piece of shit.”

“What about your good graces?”

(Y/N) thought to herself for a moment. He had come to apologize in person. He knew the way he had acted was wrong, he actually apologized for it, and it seemed like he was willing to make a change. That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? For him to work on the jealousy and actually change it.

“I think you can get back there,” she said. “You’ll just have to work for it again.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.”

(Y/N) smiled. She moved closer towards him and unmuted the movie. “You can start by cuddling me and finishing this bullshit movie with me.”

He smiled back at her and put his arm around her shoulder. “I can do that. But why are we finishing the movie if it’s bullshit?”

“Because I’m invested in the bullshit.”

Roman chuckled and pulled (Y/N) towards him. She rested her head against his shoulder and he put his head on hers. He tested the waters by placing a kiss on the top of her head. (Y/N) didn’t argue. Instead, she turned her head to kiss his cheek before settling against him again.

[megantheestallion-ismypresident]

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

[soft-for-them]

Palm readings and tulips - Roman Godfrey x plus size reader

Summary: You and Roman are close, best friends even. You think he doesn't love you despite everything pointing to him loving you.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: Before writing this I hadn't watched Hemlock Grove since I was like fourteen so at this point in time I've only re-watched the first few episodes so the characters are probably way ooc. Not proof read.

Since turning eighteen, aka a legal adult, you’ve realised that you still don’t have the power to do much at all. You’re still learning to drive despite knowing that you won’t be able to afford the cost of a car on your own. You’re working part time and you’re still somehow waking up every morning to go to school which seems to never end.

Then there’s Roman.

Best friends since your family moved to Hemlock Grove when you were twelve, the promise of a job at the steel mill shattered as soon as you arrived, Roman has always been generous with his disposable wealth when it comes to you.

Roman Godfrey with his fancy little red car always filled with fuel, his house always open to you when you don’t feel safe at home, his disregard for the price of anything him choosing to always pay for your shopping the rare time he stalks around a shop with you when he’s not busy bedding other people. With a flick of a wrist he can get anything he wants no fake ID or drop of his prestigious name needed, though he does the latter one regardless, Roman Godfrey has the world at his feet.

Maybe that’s why you’re forever thinking up reasons why he’s still friends with you.

As you bang you head on your dull green locker, no one around the hallways to stop you for most if not all the students have been killed in gruesome bloody ways only leaving the younger students and the less than savoury upper-classmen left. To think, if you didn’t have someone like Roman following you around like a shadow then you’d probably be mauled to death in a ditch somewhere.

What a lovely thought that is indeed.

Raising you head you look down the hall, only small clumps of people mulling around, a larger group of tall teens clad in baggy clothes huddled around some lockers probably looking at something indecent catching you attention.

“I am an adult for crying out loud.” you mutter to yourself as you check you book bag filled with heavy textbooks and you large novelty pencil case, “I should be out of this fucking town.”

Then a loud obnoxious laugh, one that sounds more like some exclaiming ‘HA!’ than a proper laugh echoes down the hallway reminding you that nothing good ever comes from such fake laugh.

So with a reluctant sigh you mosey over to the group of boys, not caring that you look half dead in your oversized baseballs jersey and baggy mom jeans, your bag clutched in your hands ready to use it as a weapon.

“Alright fuckers what you looking at now?” you holler as you squish in between two towering boys who smell like B.O and dress like nul metal band rejects.

The best outcome is that they’re all ogling at a magazine of scantily clad women or huddled around a small screen of a phone looking at social media but no, sitting against a locker looking horrified is none other than Shelley Godfrey.

Her long faux hair droops over her entire face as she tries to look as small as possible, her long grey cardigan pooling on the dirtied checked floor of the hallway, her arms holding onto her speaking tablet with an inhuman clutch.

Your face turns stern, tired eyes showing how pissed off you are, the very small amount of power you have in this supernatural town bubbling up.

Most all the boys huddled around you both are way taller, a couple of the shorter ones plus size like you, so really you are outnumbered in every way including size. However, somehow the remaining gaggle of teenage boys who roam the school have an odd resect for you. Much like how Roman, when he’s not fucking someone or completely gone like he was never alive, they follow you around school like lost puppies finding you entertaining, your straightforward and sarcastic wit making you ‘one of the boys’.

That and you’re one of the very few teens who Roman hasn’t bedded, some of your classmates almost seeing you like a challenge for surely soon enough Roman will fuck you too. You’ve overheard them talk about you like this many times, too many for your liking and you have mixed feeling about how they see you. On one hand some people see this plum young woman who must be next on Roman’s conquest of fucking every person he can whilst others see you as just ‘the fat girl’ and nothing else.

For once in your life you’d like to be seen as more than a piece of meat but I digress, you’d much rather have the respect of these teenagers than have their ogling eyes look you up and down like your either their next fuck or next bullying target.

 “What? Her wing was falling off, it’s funny (y/n).” one smiles thinking that you’re going to happily chuckle alone with them.

Honestly you feel too much like a mother goose sometimes, these greasy teenagers your rebellious children who think you’d laugh along with them at such cruelty.

“Oh! FUNNY LIKE BREAKING YOUR DICK!” you shout at the top of your lungs, everyone is a five mile radius knowing it’s you shouting out your secret knowledge.

No one other than you and the gaggle of lanky teens surrounding you know who you’re exactly talking about however everyone else will have a fun time trying to guess who ‘broke’ their dick and hopefully the humiliation with hammer into their head not to mess with Shelley Godfrey again.

“Come on (y/n)!” one scoffs whilst another gives you a “not cool bro.” to no avail.

“Where’s your brother?” you ask in you softest voice as you crouch down to Shelley’s height ignoring the scattering boys who try to do damage control now that everyone, which isn’t a lot compared to the beginning of the year, has heard what you shouted.

Speak of the devil Roman appears out of nowhere crouching down beside you as you talk softly to Shelley.

“Where the fuck have you been rich boy?” you scoff as you turn your head to look at your childhood befriend.

“How did you know Tyler broke his dick?” Roman retorts back with a handsome smile.

You ignore him, instead you help Shelley up.

“I’m not a blushing virgin Rom-“ you smile up to Shelley silently nodding asking is she’s ok which gets you a smile back before looking back to Roman, “- me and his brother was in the middle of some things when that idiot fell in the shower screaming bloody murder ‘My dick’s broken, my dick’s broken!’.”

You were having fun too, it’s not that often that a hot guy genuinely takes an interest in you let alone a hot college type who can take you wondering mind off Roman Godfrey, but then his idiot younger brother had slipped whilst belting out pop tunes in the shower making everyone in the house hold privy to the fact he hurt his member.

It was quite easy sneaking out whilst his family crowded around the bathroom, though your thoughts where quickly back of Roman.

As of late all you’ve been thinking about is Roman, that and escaping Pennsylvania but mostly of Roman’s stupidly handsome face.

Him looking at you now with eyes so filled with emotion, most of which you can’t decipher makes you almost blush and fumble. However before you can blurt out your feelings for the guy who used to follow you around town whilst you caught bugs or explored the library instead of going home you offer your arm to Shelley stating that you’re going to take her to her class.

Shelley takes your arm with a small smile, a faint glow of blue like a firefly radiating from under her fringe. Roman follows closely behind you protectively, his heart filling up with an emotion he hasn’t properly felt in his life.

Love.

Roman Godfrey, the most powerful person in school, the man who is your shadow, in love with you.

“He’s not happy with you (y/n).” Peter says between puffs of his cigarette the two of you sat at the front of his static home.

He offers the cigarette to you but you refuse it.

“He’s never happy with me lately.” you say not believing a word that comes from your lips, you don’t think Roman has ever be properly angry or disappointed in you.

“You know that’s a lie.” Peter says nudging your arm as you stare off into the distance to the house upon the hill.

“Peter, don’t contradict yourself.” you hit his arm back.

Ever since Peter Rumancek moved here you’ve been spending more and more time with him, well not as much as Roman has but you’ve been spending more time with the shaggy haired man then at home.

“What I mean is that annoyed at you.” as Peter talks you lean you head down on his shoulder, the late afternoon slowly fading into sunset, the air around going cold.

“How so?” you ask looking up at him.

“Something about a brother and you helping his sister.”

“Ah, that.”

Sighing, nuzzling your face into Peter’s bicep you try to figure out how to explain to him the situation that you hadn’t even realised was a situation until now.

So you explain it to him. In as little words as possible you recount the story of having a one night stand with a classmate’s older brother and the ensuing hilarity that you used as leverage to help Shelley.

“He really likes you.” Peter says bringing his hand up to pat your head as you slump down more into his arm like it was a pillow on your bed.

“Of course he does Peter, we’ve been friends since I was twelve.”

You don’t want to really explain anything more to Peter because you know exactly what he’s trying to get out but surely someone like Roman can’t like you back, right?

And from that conversation sometime later the next week you find yourself sat awkwardly on a throw covered blue sofa, a decorative pillow on your lap and Peter by your side fully relaxed.

Destiny has been kind to you the half an hour you’ve been here, she’s offered you tea, told you embarrassing stories about Peter and genially been hospitable and nice however as she breaches the subject of who you’re hear you start to feel nervous.

It was Peter’s idea, he had been the one to bring up Destiny’s palm readings curtsey of Peter you’re getting the palm reading for free. You’re not some naive little girl any more so you can take whatever Destiny gives you. Unlike the bigots of the town who think Destiny is scamming people out of their money because she is Romani you’re hopeful that she can give you a good reading and get Peter off you back to boot for he has been trying to tell you that Peter like likes you all week.

But still you’re nervous and jittery.

Destiny asks for your hands which you reluctantly hold out.

“I know you’re probably really good at this-“ you begin as she cradles your hands, your palm upward facing, Destiny leaning over to look at them, “-but I don’t need you tell me if I’m going to have kids or if I’m going to rich.”

Your eyes flicker between her and Peter.

“That’s no entirely how this works.” Destiny grins as Peter touches your arms to try to calm you down, “Anyway from what Peter has told me we may only need to look at your heart line.”

“Heart line?”

“Love.”

“Oh! Yeah, love…” your face scrunches up in worry, “Sorry, I’m not saying you’re a fake or anything but I, well, I already know who I love already, I just haven’t done anything about it so I don’t need a reading for that.”

She smiles, the dimpled lines either side of her mouth appearing as she does, her eye sparkling with curiosity.

“Peter you should have brought her over sooner.” she says eyes trained on you, “Shall we begin then?”

You nod a quick yes.

She begins tracing your palms, her fingers light but slow as she figures out both your past and your future form just the curved line of your hands.

“This hand-” Destiny begins cradling your non dominant hand, “- this one show your past.”

Her manicured finger traces a long line slightly jagged and curved.

“You’ve been through a lot.” she states, not trying to get anything out of you but allowing you to speak if you want to, “I assume it’s to do with your family.”

Two hours later Peter is leading you out of Destiny’s flat, a promise to visit again as a friend promised to her, tear soaked tissues stuffed up your sleeves and Peter holding you hand as he leads you onto the street now bathed in yellowing streetlamp light.

“That was a lot.” you try to upbeat but all that comes from you lips is a solemn exhale, “Promise you won’t tell anyone about all that?”

He bumps his shoulder into yours, his hand squeezing yours in a silent ‘yes’.

“Not even the bit about twelve year old you falling in love with Roman?”

“Shut up.” you laugh as you knock your shoulder into his back playfully, “Now walk me home.”

The next day after Destiny’s palm reading you’re overthinking too much so much so you get a headache that can only be cured by taking a long mid-morning nap.

Thankfully it’s the weekend and you don’t have work but unthankfully as you groggily wake up from your impromptu nap you hear the tell tell signs of one Roman Godfrey lowering himself down on top of your crowded double bed, his nicely dressed frame clashing with the teddy bears and old granny floral sheets of the bed.

“You climb through my window or something?” you ask as you drag yourself up into a sitting position, ignoring the fact your face comes dangerously close to Roman’s.

“No one’s here (y/n) so I used the key underneath the front door mat.”

“Liar-” you joke as your rearrange your twisted t-shirt on your plush body, “-the key is under the pot Rom, you know, the one with the dead tulips.”

You both maybe siting side by side, you under the covers and him fully clothed, but you can see his growing smile on his smug face from the side of his face, mischief soon to come.

“What, stop smiling like that and spit it out.”

His smile grows into a clown like grin as he lets out a deep chuckle. He bends down to the side to pick something off the floor. On hand latches onto your leg anchoring him down as he bends down hanging his other arm off the bed, warmth rising in your face at the rather forward action.

He rises bringing, what at first you think is a wad of paper, up but as you look closer you see the paper is combined with translucent pink plastic in a cone shape holding flowers in place.

Flowers.

Now just any flowers but blood red tulips, much more vivid and alive than the ones that used to live by your front door. And they’re not some supermarket type flowers either, there’s no barcode stuck to the plastic or creasing on the paper from where they’ve been sitting in a pot with other bouquets of flowers. No, they’re big, new and most certainly handmade, so perfectly arranged that they must have cost too much, well too much for you anyway.

For Roman it probably was nothing at all, his wallet still filled with too much money.

You must be frozen in place for Roman, one hand still on your leg, passes over the bouquet of tulips.

“Why you got these for?” you ask.

“I don’t like seeing you sad.” he says leaning closer so your noses almost touch.

“I’m not sad.” you try to smile, your eyes flickering between the blood petals and his sharp mesmerising eyes.

“I saw you yesterday with Peter, you were crying.”

Despite there being a thin blanket separating your bare legs from his hands you can feel him stroke patterns near your knee.

“Then why didn’t you come over then? You know I’ll always have you.” you words come out wrong for you were trying to say that he’s always welcome in your home though I guess the growing bubbling feeling of love has impaired your mind just a bit.

As your eyes look at the flowers you miss the hungry, almost monstrous look flash in Roman’s eyes, his pupils going large. It takes all his strength not to grab you and kiss you all over making you his.

He won’t even tell you either that last night another classmate died, that he was trying to investigate it.

“I’m taking you out.” he demands.

“Ok.” you say feeling that you can't decline, the thought of it being a date pushed out your mind for Roman always seems to be spending money on you, “Let me get dressed first Rom.”

[obexes]

CATALYSIS

PT. II

R.C x READER • R.G x READER

Warnings: Smut, Self-Sabatoging Reader, Manipulation, Small Amount Of Dub-Con (Fucking Rafe), Underaged Drinking, fingering

A/N: The next part will be longer, and this might end up being 10 parts bc the plot, oh I'm gonna let it cook. I tried to get this out ASAP, while juggling too much other shit. My mental health is sickly, so enjoy my degenerate fantasies. Feedback is so appreciated and encouraging y'all :)

Word Count: 7.5 K

Sundays were always your favourite thing about your parents being home. The smell of Italian sausage and carbonara had summoned you from your room to the living room, where your family sits spread out around the large room, with their dinner plates.

When you and Nicky were kids, your Mom would lose it if she caught you guys on the eggshell coloured living room carpet with anything darker than water. Ever since Henley and Patton were old enough to eat on their own, your dad has enforced mandatory family time, which was simply eating dinner while watching a movie together on Sundays.

To be fair, despite all the travelling, they tried really hard to be home every Sunday. You took your spot at the coffee table and picked up the only unoccupied plate.

“I’m feeling Marvel tonight.” Nicky commented, twirling his fork around in his pasta. “Or maybe Disney?”

“Turning Red!” “Inside out!” Your younger brothers both called out simultaneously. You bite the inside of your cheek to stifle a chuckle as your mom warily eyes the excited kids, or more accurately, the food balanced on their laps. She’s hopeless, you think freely.

“I’m thinking we should watch Euphoria. Bring some real world problems into this oasis.” you comment, earning a look from your Mom as well. Your older brother's idiot laugh doesn't go unnoticed.

Your Dad raises his wine glass to his lips. “I don't feel like having a stroke at 39. Peter Pan and Wendy it is.” Despite the child-like film, you all cheer as he hits play. Finally you start to dig into the meal your Mom, with the help of little Patton, made.

After you all finish eating, your dad pauses the film. You and Nicky carry the dishes to the dishwasher, load and start it, before making your way back to the living room. Your parents are curled up together and you take the spot on the other side of your dad, while he wraps an arm around you, the boys pile up on the mountain of blankets covering the floor.

As he plays the movie, you find your mind wandering to last night. To what you did in the hot tub at Tanneyhill. To Rafe fucking Cameron. Part of you felt guilty about messing with Roman’ s cousin and lying to your Mom, but the other part of you was burning. Burning to feel his hands on you again, burning to feel that intense pleasure over and over, and burning to know more. And then there was an even smaller part that wanted to know what such an intimate thing would feel like with Roman.

Even though you were still pissed at him for a number of reasons. You never made it back to Rafe’s room last night.

⊱✿⊰

“You're sleeping in my room tonight, gorgeous girl.”

You giggle quietly as he opens the back door and carries you the few steps across the kitchen, to plop you down on the island. “Want some water or something?”

You swing your legs back and forth, feeling the effects of the alcohol you'd been consuming since you got here. “Yes, please.” You turn your head momentarily towards the doorway as you hear light footsteps upstairs. You brush it off, enjoying your inebriated break from everyone else in the world but the man who just made you cum on his lap.

Rafe grabs two waters and comes back to stand between your legs. He moved nervously, you noted. He looked at you, like really looked at you, as he handed you a water bottle. “You okay? How are you feeling after... well- after everything tonight?”

“I'm good, Rafe. I had.. fun.” You reassure him with a small smile, unsure how to phrase it but wanting to reassure him. Which is still more than Roman bothered to do for you.

He gives you his signature panty dropping, schoolboy smirk. His tone is still nervous, however. “So it was okay? I mean, that it was me?” He slides his hands up your thighs coming to rest them on your hips. You could feel a flush of heat creeping up from where he’d just touched your thighs making its way all the way to your cheeks.

“Yes, Rafe.” You manage to say. His touch is intoxicating, his eyes captivating. You find your arms wrapping around his neck, hands burying themselves in his soft, dark blonde hair. “It was better than okay.”

He leans in to plant a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips before leaning back slightly and catching your eye. You tug him towards you and his lips meet yours devotedly. He pulls you closer to the edge, your bodies meeting again, chest to chest. He bites your swollen bottom lip and separates from you only to tilt his head and kiss you even deeper.

His hands move to grip the sides of your ass and you whine against his lips, causing him to grip you harder. Still chasing the feeling he gave you outside, you push your crotch against his as best as you can from your place on the counter.

“Y/N.” He keens,”I'm never gonna get enough of you.” Rafe buries his face in your neck, leaving warm and wet kisses, leaving his hands to grope your sides.

Lost in the lust washing over you, you both hear the telltale pad of multiple pairs of feet, too late.

“Oh shit” A giggle. “Dude!” Disgust.

“What the fuck?” Anger.

Your head whips over to see three shocked teens standing at the entrance of the kitchen with varying reactions. Rafe slowly lifts his head but doesnt look away from you. Your mouth opens and closes, floundering for words. You look between the three and Rafe as you push him away and jump off of the counter.

Nicky and Mia are slowly starting to snicker, but Roman is just staring at you with disbelieving eyes. The other girl is nowhere to be seen.

“Okay, now this. This makes more sense.” Nicky laughs, referring to this morning when your parents caught you and Roman in your bed, asleep.

“Looks like you have a date to midsummers now, Y/N.” Mia comments with a raised brow.

You remain frozen, aside from your bottom lip wobbling and you biting it in a second attempt to keep your tears at bay tonight. How many times can one girl be humiliated in a day? You don't even want to look back at Romans face.

Rafe eyes your wobbly lip and reaches for you, tugging your hand into his. “Hey, wanna go to sleep now?”

“What the fuck is this? What's happening right now?” You look up from your entwined hands, at Romans dubious tone.

“Roman-”

“Come outside, Y/N.” He walks past you both, through the doors you just entered from, ignoring Mia calling his name on the way out.

You inhale a deep shaky breath. Your brother casts Mia a clueless, questioning glance, which she ignores as she's focused on examining you and Rafe. “I should...” You trail off as Rafe squeezes your hand softly, meeting his eyes.

“Its okay. I'll talk to him later, yeah?” He places a quick peck to your head.

“Y/N, what's going on? I feel like I'm missing something.” Your brother comments quizzically.

Rafe moves to usher them out of the kitchen, “Later , man.” You hear him mutter quietly to Nicky, who meets your gaze one more time before turning back to the den area. Mia lingers a second as you squeeze and shake your hands out, nervously.

“He’s never gonna get it together. Not for you, princess. Listen to Rafe, maybe that way you can stop stepping on people's toes and you won't get hurt.” Mia says the words quietly, but her tone of voice makes it clear that it's a threat. She smiles at you and follows in the direction of two older boys, while you do your best to ignore her and choke down all of the unpleasant feelings building up and make your way to the patio doors.

When you open the door, you immediately see Roman sitting on the porch swing with his head back, looking up at the sky with his usual pout. He doesn't move, or say anything so you walk over to him and sit down. Anxiety wracks your body, as you prepare to inevitably have an uncomfortable encounter with the bipolar boy you called your best friend.

You risk a glance at him and are alarmed to see moisture pooling in his eyes, “Roman.” You whisper. “Hey, I-”

“What was that?” He sits up and turns to face you.”Just- what the hell was that?”

Your eyes widen a little at the intensity of his behaviour. He takes one of your hands in his and looks at you expectantly. “Was that just you guys being dumb, or was that -” He stutters for a second and then takes a deep breath. “Or was that something more?”

“I dont know.” The truth, you were too drunk to decipher your current feelings toward Rafe.

“What?” He scoffs. “I just caught you making out with my cousin,Y/N, and youre saying you don't know why?” He drops your hand, and faces forward, rubbing his eyes in frustration. Your eyes narrow at him. He was the one who'd failed to verbally recognize the fact that something definitely happened between you two. He's been avoiding it hardcore for the past month or so.

“No, Roman, I don't. Besides, you didn't catch me doing anything.” You snap. “The word ‘catch’ implies that i’m in trouble, and I can do whatever I fucking want, technically. Nobody else seems to give a damn about my feelings.” You run your hands through your messy hair. Maybe you shouldn't have thrown that in his face but at the moment, he was pissing drunk you off.

The lanky boy looks at you with ferocity lurking beneath his incredulous expression. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Use your fucking context clues.” You cuss back.

He just stares at you as you attempt to avoid looking him in the eyes. For a second it seems like he's going to finally acknowledge the kiss you shared, weeks ago. You see the recognition in his features for a fraction of a second before he’s up, pacing. “You're ridiculous. Seriously, if you think Rafe is gonna commit to you, or treat you well for that matter.”

Your mouth falls open in shock when you hear Rafes name come out of Romans mouth. He didn't just blatantly deflect the topic of conversation, did he? Bastard.

“Jesus, have you lost your mind? You know what kind of person he is, Y/N. I thought you were smarter than that.” He pinches the bridge of his nose as he spews his bullshit.

You take his dramatic, silent irritation as an invitation to add fuel to the fire, fed up with his week-long diversions from the underlying issue in your friendship. “Yeah, well, at least he didn't kiss me and then pretend it never happened.” You stand up and cross your arms defiantly.

Roman sighs a deep, shaky breath of air. “Y/N... Jesus. You really wanna do this, huh?” You look up, toeing the area of grass you'd just been staring at. His face, his eyes, his whole demeanour are pleading with you to stop. “It was my first kiss, Roman.”

He shuts his eyes for a second and you watch as his breathing becomes a little heavier. When he opens them, he starts toward your teary eyed figure but you step back and he stops in his tracks. “Y/N, i'm so sorry. I didn't know that.”

You nod, tears spilling over your waterline and cascading down your cheek into the ground. Where you wish you could disappear. You ignore the pain in your heart. You ignore the way this feels like a friendship ending argument. You ignore his own tears as they begin to meet yours in the soil.

“I know.” You sniffle, you didn't want to punish him. You don't even know what you want from this conversation. This isn't a good idea, you're drunk. You can't ignore the wave of anxiety that hits you, completely out of nowhere. “I just can't do this, Rome.”

You start to back up, but he follows you. “Do what?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and uncross your arms to instead wrap them around yourself. After a breath, you open them. Roman looks regretful. “Do what,Y/N?”

Be your friend, Is what you wanted to say.

“I can't see you right now.” Is what you say.

You turn around before he has time to see your face completely crumble. Panic, anxiety, and heart ache all fight for dominance over the sob working its way up your throat. You swallow it down and go find Nicky. You wouldn't be staying in Rafes room tonight.

⊱✿⊰

By the end of the movie, your two youngest siblings are asleep. With Olivia having every Sunday off, you and Nicky fold up the blankets quietly talking about the film. Meanwhile, your Parents had each carried a sibling to bed to be tucked in. You grab a stack of blankets and carry them into the hall to put away in the linen closet. When you come back to the living room, your Mom is refilling your parents wine glasses, preparing to watch another movie with your Dad.

Nicky makes eye contact with you and widens his eyes slightly, insinuating something up.

“Ah, the gangs all here. Good. Sit.” Your Dad walks into the den and clasps his hands quietly.

You and Nicky both sit down on a loveseat near the front door and exchange a look. Your parents only do these little meetings to drop big news.

“So, nothing major but Wednesday night you're both expected to be home early for dinner. We're having guests over and there's a surprise involved.”

Nicky groans,”Mom, please. If you're pregnant again, I'm getting emancipated.”

You scoff out a laugh at your brother's blatant statement, before covering it up as a cough when you get a look from your Mom.

“Dominique.” Your father deadpans. “If your mom is pregnant, I’ll take you all and run. It isn't that.”

Your mom downs her wine. “This is why they don't have respect, Joseph.”

Your Dad gives her a warm grin and wraps her up under his arm. “Like I said, just be home early for dinner. Understood?”

You and Nicky ultimately agree without too much prying for details. After bidding your Parents goodnight, you both make your way upstairs. Your brother stops at your door as you enter your room and leans against the doorframe. “So....” He trails off and you roll your eyes as you search through your dresser for a large Tshirt, settling on one that Roman left here.

“Yes, Nicky?”

“What happened last night? I saw you mackin’ on Rafe but why was Roman so mad?” He walks further into your room and plops on your bed.

“Nicky!” You whine, batting at him with the t-shirt in your hands. “Get the hell off my blankets, you went outside in that outfit!”

It's Nicky's turn to roll his eyes at your rules, as he dramatically rolls off of your bed onto a pile of laundry on the floor, stretching out like a starfish. “Whatever. So what happened? I noticed that you stayed at the house all day. And kinda have been for a while.” He adds.

You let out a dramatic sigh of despair and slide down your dresser so that you're sitting facing your bed. “I’m so dumb, Nicky. I think I fucked up.”

He sits up on his elbows, facing you. “Wait, what? What's the matter?”

You contemplate telling him everything for a moment. What's the worst that could happen? Then you think back to the last time you asked yourself that question, and any ideas of total honesty dissipate. “I don't know...” and then, you remember. “What did you mean when you said that me and Rafe made sense?”

He sits up all the way and musses his hair. “I don't know, I was drunk, Y/N. I guess I always just assumed you’d rebel against Mom and Dad. Rafe would make sense for that. More sense than your childhood best friend.”

"Me and Rafe are friends, too.” You point out, although you know it's not the same.

“Not like you and Roman.”

You contemplate this quietly. Nicky comes over to where you're sitting and plants himself beside you.

“Listen sis, I don't know what the hell is going on, but you can tell me if I need to kick someone's ass. I won't ask questions.”

You shake your head sadly. ”It's not like that. I just did a dumb thing and now I have to live with it.”

Your older brother stands up and ruffles your hair. “Well, that's nothing new, is it? Goodnight Y/N/N.”

“Goodnight, Nicky.”

He shuts your door and you change into your shirt before turning on your fan and hopping in bed.

After about 15 minutes of staring at your ceiling, trying to make sense of your feelings, you were over it. You were agonising over whether or not to check your phone for a text from Roman and beating yourself up over what happened with Rafe. You flip over and grab the TV remote. Deciding to listen to something scary, you settle on a rerun of the Paranormal Activity films and turn back over, letting the TV lull you to sleep.

Not 10 minutes later, when you're almost out like a light, does your phone begin ringing quietly on the nightstand. You register the noise and flail under the covers, frustratedly. You snatch your phone up and accept the call, barely registering the name on the screen.

“What?” You almost growl.

“Wow, hello to you too, beautiful.” Rafe’s deep voice rings through the speaker.

“Do not disturb means do not disturb, not call twice, Rafe.” You can't help your tone, your anxiety keeps you up most nights, and you were so close to ending the night on a good note, moments before.

“I'm sorry, I’d take any option that guaranteed your attention.” He laughs.” Did I wake you up?”

“Yes actually.” You sigh, readjusting your covers from the flail. “Did you need something?” “Can I come over?”

“Seriously, Rafe? Its-” You pull your phone away from your cheek and look at the time, faltering.

“Only 9 P.M.? Exactly.” You can hear his smug face over the phone. “So?”

You feel queasy at the thought of seeing Rafe, despite being so explicit with him the night before. It felt like a betrayal to Roman in a way because you two hadn’t spoken since the fight last night where he expressed his disapproval of Rafe and you together. Although a small part of you doesn't care about his opinion, after his blatant disregard for your feelings.

“I don't think that's a great idea, Rafe, my parents are awake downstairs.” You try.

He’s quiet for a second, and then there's an incoming facetime from him. You answer the call and you see Rafe sitting up, shirtless, against his headboard. He has to fight his smile, seeing you laying on your side, hair cascading around your shoulder like a waterfall of curls.

“Is it because of last night?”

You mentally smack yourself for answering a call where he can see your face. Rafe always knew when you were lying. When you guys were 12 and 13, you covered for him when he broke one of Wards Golf awards and he figured out that you had a tell. You couldn't make eye contact.

“W-what?”

“The real reason you don't want to see me.” He says in a bored tone. “Is it because of Roman?”

“No.” You roll your eyes.

“Dont lie to me, Y/N.” The dominant tone he's taking right now has you rethinking your previous statements.

“Fine, yeah. It Is, Rafe.” Pulling the covers up to your chin. “He’s one of my best friends, and you're his cousin. It feels weird that things are like this. I can't stop thinking about that stupid fight.”

You hear shuffling on Rafe’s end and then the sound of keys.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm comin over.” You start to protest but he cuts you off. “I'm gonna take your mind off of it.”

He ends the call and you're left staring at the screen dumbfounded. Now that he’s ended the call, you see a whole slew of texts and missed calls from John B and Kie, and even JJ asking you to join in on the boat day they had today. Nothing from Roman. He was usually always the first to cave after an argument, seeking you out almost every time. The lack of contact, admittedly worried you.

You sigh, sitting up in bed now. There are so many questions swirling around in your head. What was Roman thinking about? Was he still angry with you? What was Rafe thinking about? Was he going to try something? How were you supposed to hide yet another boy in your room without invoking your Mothers anger? More importantly though, how did you look right now?

You spring up and run to the ensuite bathroom. Your hair, once pinned up with a claw clip, now falls loosely around you with flyaway curlies everywhere and you wore only Roman’s T Shirt and a pair of boy short panties as makeshift PJs. You pull your clip out and stare at the excess tendrils of hair falling around you, trying to finger comb them down.

“Is it even worth it, for real?” You ask yourself as you eye the brush that would no doubt make your situation worse. Deciding that, no, it isn't worth it, you grab your mouthwash and gargle a mouthful before spitting it out, rinsing your mouth, and washing your face.

Back in your room, you realise how hot and stuffy it is. You unlock the balcony doors that face the ocean, so that Rafe can get inside. Then you pad across the floor and unlatch your bedroom window, going to open it for the breeze but nearly screaming out loud as it's pushed open, seconds later. “Ahh!”

Rafes hand shoots out to cover your mouth as he precariously balances himself between your windowsill and the branch he's perched on. He gives you an exasperated look. “Jesus, I literally live 5 minutes away. Move.”

You clutch your chest and take a step back just as he pushes off of the branch and pulls himself through the window. “Why didn't you just climb onto the balcony, you could've fallen.” You comment as he steadies himself.

Rafe examines your face, stepping closer. “Your Mom had all the trees near it cut down, remember?”

You’d forgotten about that. As soon as you turned 15 your Mom had to escape-proof your room because of an incident involving a party, a week prior. Which included cutting down the trees near your balcony and removing the garden trellis that crept up right beside it, leaving only an old oak tree beside the window that was across from your bedroom door. “Oh, right.”

You back up and sit on the edge of your bed, patting the spot next to you. Rafe pushes his hair off of his forehead as he takes a seat. The sound of the movie playing is all that can be heard as you both quietly observe each other. He looks really good in his simple blue tee and basketball shorts, and you can't help the natural, girly giddiness you feel.

“You look really pretty.” he starts.

Letting out a small laugh, “Shut up. I look like I was about to go to sleep. You look good though.” You go to smack his chest playfully, but he catches your hand.

“You're still the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart flutters a little at his words, but you quell it and withdraw your hand slowly. One thing Rafe and his cousin had in common was their notoriety as two of the island's biggest playboys. “Don't say things you don't mean, Rafe.”

Rafe smiles at you knowingly, yet you don't know why. “Remember when we were like...” He thinks about it. “I was 9 and you were 8. We were playing hide and seek with a bunch of other kids at Olivia’s garden party?” He questions.

You remember. You’d gotten locked into the old outdoor cellar, while trying to use it as a hiding spot. You'd been locked in for what felt like hours as you plotted a way out, the music and ongoing party drowning out your cries. As a kid you remember thinking you’d be down there forever, You nod, telling Rafe to go on.

“You had all the other kids going crazy, we all thought you’d gotten kidnapped but we were too scared to tell anyone.” He chuckles at the memory. “But then you walked around the side of the house covered in dirt and I remember being so happy to see you. Even though you were crying and looked like a mess, running for your parents. You were the prettiest girl to me then. You're still that same girl, now.”

You make a face, scrunching your nose. “Why is my near death experience such a significant memory for you? I could've died, digging that little tunnel under the door.”

“But you didn't.” He laughs, ruffling your hair. “Jesus, you suck at accepting compliments.”

“Yeah, well, you kinda suck at giving them.” You smack his hands away, smoothing your mussed hair. His eyes shoot to your bare legs as your T-shirt rides up. Then they flick up to scrutinise the shirt itself and you wonder if he’ll mention anything about its owner.

Instead he tugs at the hem of it with a sudden mischievous glint in his eyes. “Anything under here?”

You blush. “Rafe, shut up.” You weren't expecting Rafe to be here right now in the first place. In fact, you'd tried to avoid it. Just because you guys got drunk and fooled around didn't mean you suddenly were into Rafe. That's just what teenagers do, right? Yeah, he may look like a god and he always smells good but you didnt wanna risk your friendship with him or Roman further.

“Make me.”

His fingers slip past the hem, teasing their way up your thighs. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you swear you stop breathing. But when his fingers brush too close to your clothed pussy, you snatch at his wrist and he looks up at your face, fingers frozen over your core.

“Rafe, what do you want?”

“Honestly?” You nod, matching his heavy eye contact.

“I just wanna make you feel good, baby. ” He inches his face closer to yours, while you slowly start to forget why you stopped him. “Right now I really want to make you cum on my fingers.” He only breaks eye contact as he presses his lips against yours roughly. You loosen your grip on his wrist, your inhibitions melting at his actions.

He takes the opportunity to press his thumb against your clit, eliciting a soft whine into his mouth. Your breaths mingle together, hearts beginning to race in sync with the electric tension that's filling the air.

Rafe cradles your face gently in one hand, fingertips tracing the delicate lines of your jaw as your tongues swirl against each other. His warm touch causes a shiver to go down your spine and he smirks into the kiss. You feel his heartbeat against your chest as he lowers you onto the bed, his fingers stroking you over your panties.

“Rafe,” You coo against his soft lips. “Keep touching me there.”

“Yeah, Princess? Like this?” Rafe drags his thumb around your clit in circles, increasing the pressure. Your hips grind involuntarily towards his hand as you nod, a moan escaping your lips.

“Shhh, be quiet.” He presses another short kiss to your lips, letting go of your face to yank your shirt up to your belly and focus his gaze on his handiwork.

Rafe continues to tease you, your panties preventing you from feeling his skin. He looks up at you, watching your reaction as he ghosts his fingers over your entrance again. You were suddenly filled with a longing for something more - an indefinable desire that was rooted in your core, and it made you shiver with pleasure.

Rafe smiles smugly as he watches you, his gaze tender yet smouldering. He leans forward and kisses you, your mouths exploring each other with an intensity that takes your breath away. With each kiss, your concerns about Roman faded away, replaced by something new and exciting and unbearably sweet.

When he finally pulls away, Rafe drags his hand away from your pussy to brush lightly against your hips, tracing a gentle line along the curve of your waist. You shiver again, skin prickling with pleasure as he moves his hands lower.

To your surprise his fingers lace between yours, and he gently tugs you towards him. “Do you want me to keep touching you, baby?” You nod desperately, extremely flushed. “Can you keep quiet?”

You nod again and before you can protest his fingers are in your panties. He teases you slowly, and his breathing becomes heavier. You're lost in a world of sensation as his thumb finds your clit again, beginning to create blissful, swirling patterns.

His fingers slowly trail lower, to your entrance, and you can feel your body responding to his touch, almost dripping over his fingers. Your skin is alive with a pleasure you've never felt before.

Rafe groans while you throw your head back as he begins pushing his index and middle fingers inside of you, the stretching sensation too intense for you to take it. You grab at his forearm as he begins pumping his fingers in and out of you, the heat from his touch making you moan.

”W-ait.” You attempt to push his arm away but he holds you in place with his free arm, his pace becoming more insistent. The painful stretch begins to fade into something much more pleasurable.

“Let me make you feel good,Y/N.”

Rafe moves his fingers at a quick pace, repeatedly stroking against your G-spot until you're a whining, moaning mess. As you begin to feel yourself nearing an orgasm, you silently beg him to stop before you could release, as if that would make this any better. Rafe, however, seemed to be enjoying your reaction and continued his assault, his fingers sliding deeper and faster.

You felt your entire body ignite with a pleasure that was both overwhelming and exquisite. Your hands find his shirt and you ball it up in your fists, feeling yourself release, squirting on his hand and your covers. You’re screaming muffled profanities into Rafes palm as your orgasm finally engulfs you. Your body goes limp with relief, your breathing ragged as you lie there, trembling.

Rafe withdraws his fingers and sits up, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. You lay there for a few moments, trying to process what just happened. You felt embarrassed and ashamed, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the pleasure you had just experienced. As you slowly sit up, fixing your panties, Rafe's smirk widens.

"That was quite the experience, hmm?" he says in a smug voice.

You could feel your cheeks flush and you quickly look away, your heart pounding with a mix of emotions. Rafe leans closer and puts his hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him. "Hey, It's okay," he says softly. "You don't have to be embarrassed. I'm just glad I made you feel that good. That was fun right?"

You nodded, your face still flushed with embarrassment. You look away again, not wanting to meet his gaze. ‘It's just that... I didn't expect it to feel that way. I'm kind of overwhelmed. Sorry if that sounds stupid.”

Rafe pulls you into his chest and wraps an arm around you. “It doesn't sound stupid. I get it, I've never seen a girl squirt before, either. I'm sorry if that was too much.”

You roll your eyes, as he can't see you, at his boyish thoughts. "It's fine, Rafe.” You pull away from Rafes hug and stare at your carpet awkwardly. Sensing your hesitance he looks away from you nonchalantly, “You tired?”

Seeing the question as an out, you meet his eyes and nod, feeling the atmosphere in the room change. His smile is small, disappointed. “I'll see you tomorrow then? Or Wednesday?” You furrow your eyebrows. “The dinner that your parents are hosting..?”

You remember your Dads statement earlier, the dinner and the surprise. “Oh, okay yeah. You're coming?”

“Yeah, So are Olivia and Roman.” Rafe replies as he stands up, wiping his cum covered hands on his shorts. You internally cringe at how awkward this interaction is turning out to be. It's your fault, you have to fucking ruin everything. You nod your head as if you aren't mentally cursing yourself out. “But hey, Y/N?”

You meet his expectant stare. “Yeah?”

He kisses your forehead before backing towards your window, smirking as he opens it once again. “I took your mind off of it, didn't I?” And with that he's gone.

⊱✿⊰

He did not, in fact, take your mind off of it.

Two hours later, you're still awake, staring at your ceiling fan trying to drown out the negative thoughts eating you alive. You had a tendency to overthink, and with that came anxiety. The best remedy for your anxiety was alcohol, which not only did you not have access too at the moment, but it also caused you to make dumb bitch decisions, occasionally. You couldn't help but crave it anyways.

You felt incredibly guilty and even ashamed that you let things go that far with Rafe, especially given the fact that he didn't seem to be concerned about your actual feelings about it.

As the minutes go by and sleep evades you, you give up rolling over to pick up your silenced phone. You have a slew of unanswered notifications but one name immediately catches your attention. Sitting up in bed you click on the notification, fast as shit.

45 Minutes Ago

Romeo: Jelli bbeen

Romeo: com to our beecfh

Rome: Plz im srory

Fuck, I'm a horrible person, you instantly hit the call button, knowing that he’s drunk off of his ass. When the call goes to voicemail straight away, you hop out of bed and throw on a pair of shorts and crocs, slipping quietly out of your room determined to go make sure he's okay.

You pause at the top of the stairs, listening for the sound of your parents, when you hear nothing you creep down the carpeted stairs slowly.

FInally reaching the back door, you slide it open as quietly as you can and creep outside. Shutting it behind you, you turn around to walk towards Romans house when you spot a figure, down on the beach, near your family's dock.

You curse under your breath and hurry towards the figure. As you near, you can clearly see Romans broad torso hunched over, one arm laying on his knee holding a bottle of Jack and the other stuck in his extremely messy hair.

“Rome.” You call softly so as not to startle him.

He raises his head slightly, back to you, but doesn't move otherwise. “Jellybean?”

“Yeah... it's me, what's going on Roman?” You put a hand on his shoulder, sitting down beside him. “What are you doing sitting out here? It's almost Midnight.”

Roman looks at you in a mixture of melancholy and clear intoxication. His lips twitch into a slight frown, as if he is going to cry, but only momentarily, before he takes a shot and hands you the bottle. You take it, gratefully. “I needed to see you, talk to you.” He’s slurring, dangerously. ”I really fucking hate what happened yesterday.”

Before you reply you take a shot too, and sigh. “Which part?”

“All of it. I really fucking hated it all, guppy.” He turns towards you, his demeanor slightly more defeated than a minute ago. He was naturally a manic person, but when he was drunk, he went from tough guy to busting out every pet name in the book in hopes of being babied. “Seeing Rafe touch you, seeing you like it.... us fighting.”

Your eyes widen, slightly. “What does that even mean, Roman?

Roman stares at you with his sad green eyes, dejectedly. “I want to fix it. I fucked up and I want to fix it.” He taps the bottle in your hand and you hold eye contact as you take another drink, passing it to him afterwards, him doing the same.

“It's not entirely your fault, Roman.” You let your eyes fall to the sand between you. You hated lying, but you didn't know what was going on in his head and telling him about Rafe being in your room, less than 3 hours ago, would possibly just serve to make him more upset. “I shouldn't have kissed Rafe.” You omit the part about you grinding and cumming on his dick, for Romans sake.

He grabs your hand in his and pulls you to scoot closer, you do. “Ya’guys only kissed cuz’ I never talked to you about us.” he says. “M’ sorry if I hurt you baby. I love you, Y/N. I really fucking love you.” He cups your face, dragging his thumbs across your cheeks.

You hold your breath, deja vu from a few weeks ago hits you square in the chest. This is exactly how he kissed you the first time. You've wanted to hear those words from him for weeks, hoping that he was secretly in love with you too, not while he was this heavily inebriated, however.

You gently grab his hands and squeeze them, lowering them so they are between you both. “Maybe we should talk about this in the morning, bubba?”

Roman's lip starts trembling, barely noticeable, at the nickname. “Y/N, no. You deserve an explanation, please let me explain.” He whines. “I do love you. It wasn't about you.” He looks at your joined hands for a moment before placing a kiss on your knuckles and peering hesitantly up into your eyes.

You couldn't help but want to hear him out. Your heart constricts as he begins speaking in a pained voice. “It's my Mom, Y/N. Shes fucking insane. Do you remember, 9th grade, I was with Allie Mcentyre?”

You nod, pensively. You'd been friends with Allie that year, because she was dating Roman, before she abruptly cut you off. Roman seemed not to care, so you didn't either. “Yeah before she ditched us.”

He grimaces. “She didn't ditch us, Y/N.” You furrow your eyebrows in question. “She was the first girl I ever brought around Mom, and the entire fucking time, she gaslit and- and lied an' manipulated both of us." Roman pauses as he hiccups, and gathers his words. "She would text her cryptic shit from my phone and then delete it so that it seemed like her angry texts were random, she’d tell her that she wasn't good enough for me and me the same. Allie told me she didnt want to see me anymore after my mom told her mom that I’d been having sex with multiple girls at a time.” He chuckles. “I was still a fucking virgin. She just wanted to ruin what I had. I realized she’s only going to let me be with someone that she chooses for me.”

“Roman...” Your mouth opens and shuts while you process your next words. “Im so fucking sorry, that I didnt know about that. That's literally insane.”

Roman chuckles drily, you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “It's okay, I didn't tell you.”

You squeeze him and pull away. "I shouldve been there for you, I'm sorry."

Roman shakes his head, placing a hand back on your cheek, thumb resuming its soft, delicate strokes. “No. I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve the way I treated you. I love you, jellybean, please don't be mad at me.”

You gently press your palm against his hand but this time you don’t remove it. “I could never stay mad at you, Roman. I love you too.” How could you ever be angry with this side of him? Nobody ever gets to see this side but you. The whiskey stupor you were beginning to feel caused you to zero in on the tall boy beside you.

His lazy, responsive smile is so boyish and sweet, it makes you buzz with desire, and briefly you recall wondering what it would feel like to do what you did with Rafe, with Roman instead. They are different in more ways than they were similar. Roman is hard and broken, but his pure heart radiates through the cracks, whereas Rafe was a tried and true asshole, though you had to confess you didn't know him as well as you knew the boy in front of you.

“Y/N?” Roman bites his lip and a slight frown forms between his brows as he glances down at your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

In lieu of answering, you tangle your hands in his hair and pull him to you, desperately connecting your lips. You caught Roman off guard but he quickly grabs ahold of your waist in his free hand, managing to hastily pull you onto his lap.

As your mouths slowly move together, a warm electrifying feeling spreads through you, time seems to slow down, allowing you to focus solely on his lips and the emotions they were making you feel. His hands find yours, intertwining them with his, solidifying the bond you two were experiencing.

You couldn't help but think about the way Rafe kissed you earlier, only in that his kiss was much less intimate, yet more hungry and physically intense. WIth Roman, it was a slow dance of tongues and lips meshing that made you soaked for him in a completely different way. You purposely rolled your hips over his and he groans, squeezing your joined hands. You break the kiss and lean back slightly, admiring the boy who has your heart.

“Hmm, baby?” His lips look a delicious, puffy red and his eyes are half lidded, he looks so sexy right now. Before you could help it, you’re grinding your pussy against his member again, both of you letting out satisfied moans at the friction. “Y/N, shit. What are you doing to me?”

The whiskey in your system has your body acting on its own, out of sexual frustration from the months of built up tension between you two, desperate to explore it with him. You just let his cousin finger fuck you. Fuck, two shots wouldn't be enough.

You pick up the bottle of Jack Daniels, resigned to the choices you were about to make, and downed two or three shots. You force yourself to ignore the burn, and Romans drunk, questioning gaze as you tipped his chin and poured some into his mouth. He shakes his head with a grimace, swallowing down the shitty tasting alcohol.

Without wasting a beat, you begin peppering kisses along his neck, and he lets out a spur of dirty, drunken noises from the back of his throat.

“Does that feel good?” You can't help but tease your clit along his clothed erection again, body moving intoxicatedly of its own free will, chasing the friction his shorts provided, as he struggles to answer and resigns to nodding. You move your mouth up to his ear, sucking softly on it before whispering, “Roman, I want you so bad, want you to fuck me.”

“Wh-” Instantly his hands are on your hips, pushing you slightly back. “Jellybean, what?” He seems almost instantly sobered as he examines your features. "I thought you were a virgin?” You flush at your own obviousness, feeling it even over the warmth of the alcohol coursing through you.

“Well... I mean, I am. But, I want you to be the first.” You grip onto the bottom of his shirt, glancing down, doing your best not to appear as the tipsy, desperate slut you feel like.

Roman sighs heavily, closing his eyes for a second, squeezing your hips gently. “Y/N, I dont know about you, but Im really fucked up right now.” You nod, still not looking up but he lowers his head, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I want it to be good for you. I want it to be special, not like this, pretty girl.”

Your eyes begin to well up quickly, in humility at the perceived rejection and you look out at the ocean, wiping at your tears before they can fall. “I'm sorry, Rome, I'm so stupid. I'm sorry.”

“Love, you aren't stupid. Believe me when I say I want this as bad as you.” Roman shocks you when he removes your hand, that's clutching his shirt, to place it on his hard length. “This is what you fucking do to me, baby. And when the time is right, I won't just be the first, I'll be the last too.” He gives you a lopsided smirk and a delicate kiss on the lips.

You offer him a small smile in response, he was being such sweetheart and you felt horrible. At the forefront of your clouded brain, you were desperate to replace Rafe's touch with Roman's as if it would erase your prior actions, but you shove it to the back, focusing on his reassurance. "Is that a promise?"

“Of course, it is. I know I've been so wrapped up in my own head, trying to keep everything...normal, but I don't want to do that anymore.” He pulls you close again and rests his forehead against yours. “I want this, baby. I want you.”

No, no, no. Roman, dont. Not right now. The guilt is going to crush you. You look down. “Will you be my girlfriend?” His hopeful eyes await yours.

You're quiet for a beat too long before you slowly look back into his expectant face. “I can't, Roman... my Dad. You know how he is.” It's bullshit, but he doesn't know it. Yeah your dad would have an aneurysm but you didn't care in the slightest. You had to make sure that Rafe wouldn't say anything about what you guys did, and break things off with him first, before you made an even bigger mess. Roman was wasted, he might not even remember this in the morning.

Romans face falls a bit at your words. He just promised to endure his mothers psychopathy for you and you wouldn't even return the favour? You hate the look that flashes across his face and hurry to reassure him. “I'll talk to him, okay? After dinner on Wednesday.”

He nods somberly, “Yeah, okay. If you want to.”

You grab his face and plant a kiss on his pouty lips. “I do, Romeo, don't worry. And I promise, I will.”

He laughs at that, loving the nickname. You made many mistakes, but you wouldn't let this be one of them. The feelings that the boy under you made you feel, compared to absolutely nothing else. At least that's what you keep telling yourself.

[emmyrosee]

Roman Godfrey

I KNOW. I JUST USUALLY DON’T HAVE TO.

fanfics

Little Moments (Fluff)

Deadlines (Fluff)

Difficult (Fluff)

Appreciation (Fluff)

Morning Sickness (Fluff)

drabbles

Stressed

Crushing

   Reunited

Protective

Sugar Baby Feelings

Traumatized

Attitude Management

Stuffed Animal -dad!au

Growing Up -dad!au

Hungover 

Comforting

Falling in Love

Whipped 

Cake

Scared and Alone

Christmas Cookie

Clingy

NSFW Content. Reader Discretion Advised. Minors DNI. 

Squirting

Angry

Safeword

Soft Dominance

Blood ft. Eric Northman

Riding Into Oblivion

Period Panties

Spanking

Possessive (extreme tw)

Home For Dinner

Punishment

[voxmortuus]

Can i request a roman godfrey x plus!size reader. Maybe she is the new girl or Peter's sister or cousin that moved there because of her Father’s job or something and roman becomes obsessed with her or something and he dose all this because he is in love with her and just a really fluffy ending pls

I just want to say I am SO sorry for this taking as long as it did to produce! I have been feeling so out of sorts with my writing and I had taken a super long hiatus. I found this half written in my drafts and felt I NEEDED to finish this! So, Here it is! The finished piece!!! I hope it finds you well.

PAIRING: Roman Godfrey x Fem!Plus Sized!Reader - Reader is 18+

UNIVERSE: Hemlock Grove

WORDS: 1.1K

SUMMARY/PROMPT: See above

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Obsessive Roman | Stalking Insinuated | Fluff | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this…

NOTE: Sorry if this isn't what you expected, or had envisioned yourself, I apologize. But I hope you enjoyed my vision.

IMAGE CREDIT: Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THESE IMAGES. If these are yours or you know who the creator(s) is please INBOX me and let me know. Thank you.

DIVIDER CREDIT: @firefly-graphics

My Master Masterlist | Taglist

Welcome to Hemlock Grove - That's what the sign read as you entered the town. Remote, and almost nothing here. Rubbing your face you look around and take in the bare land from the death of winter. Your father had gotten a job working at The Godfrey Institute. Unknowing what was in store for you you take this as a new opportunity to reinvent yourself, to start fresh in the way of hoping for a new beginning.

Making your way inside your new home with the last box for your room, you place it down on your bed and look out the window that looks over the street that leads to Godfrey Manor. Making a small face in slight disgust, you let off a small sigh and start putting things away.

It wasn't long before you hear a knock at your bedroom door, and it was your father asking you if you'd like to go with him to see where he works. Shrugging you had agreed to go. The way you saw it was it got you out of the house and around civilization. Grabbing your coat you throw your hair up into a loose bun and follow him to the car.

Your father didn't work far from your new home, so it was less than a few moments before you found yourself in the elevator on your way to the top floor to look around your father's new place of work. Looking around for a moment you look up at your father and tell him you're going to look around.

As you wander off you find yourself in the rather large conference room. Little to your knowledge you are being watched, by Mr. Godfrey himself. Watching you as your fingers graze against the solid wood table, across the leather backing of the chairs. Watching you as you look so unamused and so done with today that you're ready to go home.

You weren't like the others that had come in and out of here, you were shaped differently, you were a snack, in a matter of ways. While you questioned yourself sometimes, you were truly a beautiful person. Even when you didn't see yourself that way. Looking at your reflection off the surface of the table, he let out a breath, push the loose stray hairs back into place, and look around once more before wandering out.

He follows you and watches you. It was that moment he knew that you, you were it. That something different in his life, that spark he felt he's been missing. That itch he's been needing to scratch and could never find the right tool to scratch it. Roman knew that you were going to change his way of thinking when it all boiled down to it.

Spring is here, it's been five months since the move, and you've become settled, relatively. But something's been going on. You've been getting flowers and other little gifts off and on for the past three or so months. It's regular, on queue, and it never changes, once, every two weeks, a fresh bouquet of something different, and either a card, or a little trinket, be it a charm, a piece of something to wear, or a small stuffed animal accompanies this bouquet. Today, was no different.

Lurking in the distance, as he always had from the moment you met, you let out a soft yet slightly heavy breath and you look down at the flowers that sat on your doorstep. "What the heck…" you say softly. Pushing your lips to one side you look around and you pick up the sunflower and rose bouquet and pull it to your face and take in a deep inhale and smiled with a slightly somber look on your face. "THANK YOU!" You call out before you walk in and close the door.

The flowers become a regular thing, and you start visiting the office a little more, the light anonymous things putting you in a mood of happiness and genuine love. You feel this love and you don't know how to channel it, so you start bringing your father lunch at work, and you start talking to his co-workers. But it's when you meet his boss that your own heart begins to beat a little funny. You give a slightly goofy giggle, clear your throat, put your head down, and walk away.

It was his scent, you knew that scent. It was on the stuffed bear you had received with a bouquet of peonies not long ago. You excuse yourself and make your way out of the building. Running your hands down your thick thighs you lean against your little beat-up volkswagon bug and you feel your heart beating miles a minute. Shaking your head you look up at the building and burst into laughter. Why? No? Really? Was it him?

You look back down, and you lean against your car a little more, and before you had a moment to really recall everything you see him approaching from your peripheral vision. Licking your plump lips you look over at him and draw in a deep breath.

"Has it been you?" you ask. "Since the beginning." He stated "But why?" you ask him. "Why couldn't you tell me? I come in to bring him lunch every day and you couldn't tell me?" "I didn't know how. I was in awe of you." Roman admitted. "Mr. Godfrey--" "Roman, please, call me Roman." He stated. "Roman." you pause a moment. "I am nothing to be in awe about, my curves have curves, I'm far too out of your realm of normal woman, I'm just--" "Perfect. You're perfect and you don't see it Y/N. You won't see it, but I want to help you see it… if you'll let me." He smiled. "Let me take you out tonight. There's this cute little coffee shop in town, join me?" He asked.

Charming, he was charming, and he was sweet. Nodding your head you had agreed to his proposal of coffee. He holds out his hand and you place yours in his. Your hand feels so small in his, you feel like you're about the size of a damn munchkin from The Wizard of Oz. But it feels good. You feel good.

Sitting in the coffee shop after you two walk a little ways from the building you find yourself enthralled in each other, in the conversation, the mindless nothing of conversation that has led to laughter, and genuine raw emotions between you. Nothing but calm, cherished moments. Sure, people stared, but he never took his eyes off you, his attention was on you. You were important to him.

What really made you feel on top of the world, was when he reached forward and tucked some hair behind your ear, helped you up, and walked back to the building with you. From that day on, you realized that you are perfectly imperfect and that no matter what, you are beautiful, and because of Roman, seeing yourself as anything less, that's just not possible anymore.

[cruellworrld]

Still waiting to be his gf

[authorred]

Hell's Gate (Hemlock Grove) (Roman Godfrey x Fem!Reader)

Preface: We all know Olivia Godfrey only cares about herself and her legacy. Any threat to that is a threat to her. You, the person whom Roman loves, is a threat. So, she opts to get rid of you. Little does she and Roman know, you have your own secret.

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, general angst, cursing, reader isn't a baby bottom bitch in this, Roman having a breakdown, crying, some dark gifs to appeal to the edgy readers, etc..

Part 2 here Part 3 here Part 4 here Part 5 here

You knew the moment Olivia walked into the room you were in, alone, that she was going to try something. What that 'thing' was, you didn't know. A dig at your integrity, your intelligence, your lineage; who knows. That's how it always was between you two. Underneath the superficial layer of flowery words of flattery lied malice beyond human comprehension. You could tell from the instance you met her she didn't like you. Why? You were involved with Roman. In fact, he loved you. He loved you more than he feared her. She didn't like that.

So, when you were basically cornered by the predictably unpredictable woman in the Godfrey estate, you knew some shit was going to go down. She was a beautiful woman. It was a shame she was so ugly on the inside.

"Mrs. Godfrey," you greeted with a slight incline of your head. "Is there something you need?"

"Yes, actually." She came to stand in the middle of the parlor room, heels clicking against the polished wooden flooring. "Roman is out currently, and Shelley is resting right now. I would absolutely love it if you would join me on a walk."

You slowly stood up from the comfy chair with a wary gaze. "Through the estate? Or over a bridge?"

"That depends on whether I feel up to dragging you that far away from the house." She gave a tight smile before turning. "Still, I would love to get to know the girl my son seems to be so attached to."

You nodded. "Alright. If you insist." You pulled out your phone and sent a quick text to Roman, who was out meandering with Peter due to some dreams they had about the Vargulf.

'Your mother wants to take a walk with me. I don't like the way she's holding herself. I love you.'

Your message was delivered--and Roman normally texted back moderately quickly. However, this was the one time where he wouldn't be able to see your message in time.

You pocketed your phone and smiled at Olivia, who gave you one of her own. It was pleasant--her teeth straight and white--but the feeling she gave off greatly contradicted it.

The day was beautiful. A calm, autumn day. A crisp 60 degrees with a cool breeze. The fallen leaves crunched under your feet, varying shades of red, orange, and yellow. Olivia has not spoken to you once the entire time, and you weren't quick to start a conversation either. Roman still hadn't responded to you--nor had he actually read it. That was fine. You understood what he was doing was important. You could handle yourself. Probably. Maybe. You hoped.

"How well do you think you know my son?" She suddenly spoke, hands placed delicately in her trench coat pockets.

"Hm," you hummed. "I would like to think I know him well enough. Maybe not the best, but I know him better than my other friends."

"Is that so?" She murmured. "Do you think he loves you?"

You shrugged. "I don't think I have a right to speak on his feelings. Especially regarding me. It seems egotistical."

"You know, Y/n, Roman is a brilliant boy. He is my son, my flesh and blood."

"I'm aware of how basic biology works, yes. He very much looks like your son." You nodded. You may not have been as sharp as her, but with the wit you did have, you would use it at every chance.

"And as his mother, it's my job to make sure nothing gets in the way of his bright future."

You slowed your walking. "Do you think I'm a hindrance, Mrs. Godfrey?"

She matched your slowed pace and looked over her shoulder at you. "Well, I don't believe you to be a benefit. You're a distraction. Surely, you understand where I'm coming from. I just want what's best for him."

"And you don't think I'm one of those things that are 'best' for him?"

Olivia chuckled lowly, playing around with her leather gloves. "I believe that you will lead him astray from the path I've laid for him. That's all. It's nothing personal, truly Y/n. You're a lovely girl, I'm sure. When you're away from Roman."

You nodded slowly, sucking your teeth. "It feels personal." You looked around your surroundings. You were at the back of the estate's yard--the house itself was a good distance away. "Are we finishing our walk here, Mrs. Godfrey?" You asked, tilting your head. You gazed at her eyes with calm intent.

"You're truly not scared?" She asked, slowly removing her gloves. She no longer cared whether you knew or not. You would be the only one to, at least. Aside from her, but she's very good at keeping secrets.

You smiled lightly and stared at her hands. "I've come across scarier things than a narcissistic Upir."

Her lips twitched into a frown. "Then I suppose it's good that that'll be the last thing you come across."

~ Roman fell against the wall, entire body collapsing into itself. Peter didn't catch him in time, but he did attempt to keep Roman's body from crashing to the floor. A violent sob racked through the said man's body, face screwing up in pure agony.

"Roman? Hey--it's okay, buddy. It's okay," Peter soothed, not minding his best friend clinging to him currently. "I know. It's okay."

By the time Roman had read your text, you were already dead in a ditch somewhere; disembowled and dismembered. You were found there a few days later after your walk with Olivia. According to her, you went off on a walk after an unpleasant conversation with Olivia, to which she stayed behind in the house because of Shelly. There were no witnesses and no evidence left at the crime scene enough to create a concrete suspect list.

Olivia was the one who broke the news to Roman of your 'absence'. At first, he just thought you needed space from her--which was understandable. His mother was extremely suffocating, and if you're not used to her, it can quite literally kill you. Unfortunately for you, it did.

As expected, he took it poorly, and Peter had to give all of his energy to keep Roman from lashing out and hurting himself or hurting Olivia (no matter how much they both disliked her). Of course, it pained the older woman to see her son in pain (but let's be honest, she didn't care about the reason), so all she could do was swear to him that they'd find the person responsible for your murder.

Peter couldn't be with him 24/7, and the two boys still had school to deal with as well. Anger coursed through him 24/7, a thin film that kept the grief at bay. Peter knew what was going on, and Letha as well, as Peter had told her. Anyone else who had the misfortune of crossing Roman during that time was left in the middle of a whirlwind of anger and hurt.

"Roman," Peter called softly. "We both know Y/n didn't. . . just randomly die, right?"

Roman puffed out a cloud of cigarette smoke--the fourth one he's smoked that morning alone. He nodded solemnly, expression already screwing up. "No way," he chuckled bitterly. "That woman could punch anyone's lights out." He paused for a brief moment.

"Shit," he cursed, voice breaking and stumbling over itself. "I didn't even answer her text."

Peter nodded slowly, reaching over to pat Roman on the shoulder comfortingly. "It's not your fault. Y/n would've understood. She knew how important this was. It's not your fault." When Roman looked over to his friend, Peter just gazed steadily at him. "We got this, buddy. We'll find the person. And when we do, we'll kill them."

Roman nodded in agreement, sniffing. Both of them knew this wasn't something to come back from easily. If anyone knew Roman past the fuckboy, hard-ass image, they'd know he wouldn't move on--that nothing would, or could, replace the spot you took in his life and heart.

Dirt and mud were peeled away like a sheet of ice, uncovering the freshly dug hole in the ground. Flesh was spiked with shredded wood splinters and blood soaked through the pure white shirt. A hand came up through the ground to claw at the surrounding solid dirt. With a hefty, polyphonic grunt, you pulled yourself out of your shallow grave. With eyes blazing an angry red and a voice like a demonic choir, you uttered one single sentence,

"I'm going to fucking kill that bitch."

[erinfern0]

i love your writing! can i please request some more softdom roman? with any prompt you want.

thank you ♥️

perfect for me.

softdom!roman x gn!reader

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

summary: he doesn't usually take any breaks at work, but you can take as much of his time as you want, especially after you've been so good to him. you were always his favorite stress cure.

warnings: slight financial dom, office setting, semi-public, teasing, unprotected sex, messy, creampie, cock warming, a bit of performance anxiety.

Please, reblog if you like my posts!

His mind was always busy, thinking about his work and all the upir stuff that was happening to him, but you were that little anchor that kept him going. You kept him feeling loved and secure, always calmed by your soft hands and words of affirmation. No matter how tough life was, just a glimpse of your smile could make his day better.

That's exactly why the moment he started to feel overwhelmed, he called you a little before midnight, asking you to visit him in his office. You were so worried the moment you heard his exhausted voice, almost begging you to use his card to pay for your taxi. And so you did, not even half an hour later you texted him you were waiting by the elevator.

He was so happy you were there for him, the moment you stepped into his office, he turned around in his chair, smiling ear to ear as he watched you lock the door behind yourself.

"Oh, baby... Look at you!" he said excitedly as he spotted your outfit. It was one of many that he had bought for you during one of many of his shopping sprees. Seeing the way the soft fabric wrapped around your body so perfectly made his heart melt. "Come here, love."

You giggled as you felt warmth spreading over your cheeks, walking over to his desk. Before you could even think about protesting, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, nuzzling his face into your soft tummy.

"Are you okay, Rome?" you asked, fingers slowly playing with his hair just the way he loved so much, nails gently scratching the back of his neck. He murmured something in response, palms slowly kneading your hips.

"Yeah, I'm just a little tired, y'know? Needed you here." he explained while resting his chin on your stomach just to look into your eyes. You smiled at him and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

You weren't even sure when the soft, gentle pecks on his face started trailing down his neck, your fingers lingering over his clothed shoulders and chest, messing with the buttons of his shirt.

His breathing became heavier but shakier, quiet groans leaving his mouth every time you teased his exposed skin with your teeth, gentle hickeys suckled over it. Feeling the way your knee rested between his thighs, placed on his chair, makes him feel like he has his whole world above him.

"If you keep going, I might not..." he stopped with a gasp as you pressed your knee over his bulge, allowing him to slowly grind against it. The chair squeaked as he got up, your knee still between his legs as he pushed the papers aside. Proud smirk on his lips as he pulled your body to sit on top of his desk.

His body moved automatically, spreading your legs to fit between them, a low chuckle left his mouth when you threw your arms around his neck. You shifted, tilting your head to make space for his yet-cold lips to leave kisses the same way you did for him.

Roman's hands gripped your hips as he pulled you closer to the edge of the desk, your crotch pressed against his as he purposefully avoided your lips. You tugged on his hair, whimpering into his ear as he pulled your shirt up, thumbs caressing your nipples under the material.

"R-Roman..." you moaned, feeling him gently bite into your exposed shoulder. He looked at you, eyes already glistening with lust, as he smiled at you. Nodding his head, he pressed a kiss on your cheek, smirking as you tried to reach his mouth with yours.

"You want a kiss, doll?" he asked, feeling the way you arched your back against his digits. Slowly rubbing and tugging on your sensitive buds. You nodded your head eagerly, legs wrapped around his waist. "Use your words... Say 'Please, kiss me, Roman'. I know you can..." he whispered encouragements into your ear, a little high-pitched whisper so similar to the way you plead. Vibrations of his voice send shivers down your spine.

"Please... Kiss me, Roman." you whined and he proudly kissed your lips. Fast pecks slowly turn into passionate making out against his desk, bodies grinding against each other while you claw at his belt, trying to unbuckle it.

He chuckled at your miserable attempts, quickly pulling your wrists away to help you. Your movements are rushed, clumsy, and fueled by the adrenaline that the idea of being discovered like this brought you. Roman's palm started rubbing your clothed sex, patting it slightly through the material, just to hear your little mewls against his lips.

His trousers fell to the ground with a clank of his belt, you softly palmed him through his boxers, focusing your thumb on the wet spot right above his slit. All this pent-up stress made him desperate, and happy at the same time – happy that he had such a loving little toy that was always there for him whenever he needed it the most.

He couldn't wait any longer, almost ripping his shirt off his body, staring at your hands flimsily pulling your own pants down. He can't keep his eyes off of you as you get yourself prepared for him. Not only that, but he praised you, tracing your inner thighs with his fingertips as he witnessed you moving your fingers in and out of your tight hole. Spreading them around with the addition of spit to help with the slight soreness.

"All this just for me, huh?" he asked, kissing your temple as he stroked his cock, precum covering your smooth skin. Roman never cared about how messy you got, it never bothered him. Sometimes, though, it worked like fuel to his actions. Getting him so eager to finally make you feel good, to hear your soft moans again.

This time, you were in his office, legs wrapped around him as if you were scared he was going to move away any second. But he wouldn't ever leave you like this, exposed and vulnerable. You were his and to his eyes only.

His nature took over, pulling your thighs apart as he slowly slid inside, feeling your walls already clench around his leaking tip. He groaned, pressing his forehead against your shoulder, his eyes focused on the spot where your bodies connected.

"Am I... doing okay?" you asked, panting above him as you tugged on his hair. The way his head jolted upwards to face you made you squirm in your seat. Slowly moving his hips, one hand on your thigh, the other cupping your jaw. Not harshly pulling towards him, just softly holding it as his greatest treasure.

"You're doing so good for me, baby. As you always do." He didn't sound upset, just slightly shocked that such a silly thing could ever cross your mind. His hips started thrusting into you a little harder, making your eyes roll and your voice crack. "So. Fucking. Perfect."

Soon enough, his palm covered your lips, muting your moans as he continued, kissing your neck and earlobe as he panted against you. Your hands focused on holding his torso close to yours.

The room was quickly filled with rhythmical sounds of flesh slapping against each other and the desk hitting the wall behind him, but he didn't even care at this point. He slowed down, seeing how overwhelmed you were becoming. You couldn't even look at him anymore, eyes closed shut, tears slowly pricking at the corners of your eyes as he pounded you.

His movements slowed down just to allow you to rest for a second, his forehead against yours as he pecked your cheek, asking if you were okay. Roman's hand moved down your body, easily finding your shoulder, then your arm until he found your hand, taking it away from his neck.

He kissed each one of your knuckles until you looked back at him. "Too much for you?" he asked worryingly but never stopped moving his hips. Your lover chuckled as you shook your head, grinding against him for even more friction. The way he kept hitting that sweet spot inside of you started to create a knot in your lower stomach, you couldn't allow him to stop now. So he didn't.

Roman found the pace that got you the most worked up, still hissing your hand as his eyes closed in the indescribable, almost overwhelming pleasure. Your bodies were caged together over his desk, above the documents that he was supposed to take care of.

His arm wrapped around your waist just to hold you a little closer if that was even possible. Your lips connected for the last time before those coils inside the both of you unraveled. You moaned into his mouth, feeling the way he painted your walls in his spend, claiming you yet another time.

He panted heavily, a string of saliva connecting your lips as they parted. Roman grasped your shirt, pushing his face against your chest to calm down, not pulling out yet. The warmth of your flushed bodies interlocked with each other always made him feel that maybe there was heaven for someone like him.

You spent the rest of your time in his office, straddling his lap as he sat by his desk. Leaving kisses all over your neck and shoulders, arm still wrapped around you as he worked. All that stress he couldn't bear was gone, replaced by his well-known post-sex kindness and care. Even when his mind was solemnly focused of his paperwork, his body still soothed you in the gentlest ways possible, despite him almost breaking you a couple of minutes ago.

masterlist | request info | kinktober 23

[stranger-nightmare]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 | 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐲

requested by 🎸😈anon

A/N: Roman Godfrey and blood kink? did you mean the literal most perfect pairing ever?? ugh this was so much fun to write, thank you sm for the request darling! I hope you like it

The smirk that adorned Roman’s face was deadly. The twist of his lips, the tilt of his head, the darkness in his eyes; it all had you weak in the knees. It left a flutter in your stomach that radiated through to your groin.

And Roman knew it.

But more than that he knew what it was that was really turning you on: the blood that leaked from his nose.

He’d known the moment your eyes strayed for a little too long to admire his lips as the crimson waterfall coated them. He’d known from the way you’d hitched a breath and bit your lip.

All signs you were anything but concerned about the fact he was bleeding. All signs that you were, in fact, aroused by it.

“You want a taste?” Roman hums darkly, his tongue darting out to swipe across his bottom lip, staining the tip of his tongue red with his own blood.

Your mouth hangs open with a silent reply. But Roman doesn’t wait for your answer. He grabs you by the back of the neck and slams his mouth down onto yours. Your whimper is lost in his mouth as he swiftly moves to open your lips with his own. His tongue quickly pushes into your mouth, coating your own with the tang of his blood.

You can’t help the moan that reverberates through you as your senses are overwhelmed by the small and taste of him, the feel of his body pushed flush against yours, his hand cupping your nape so tight it almost hurt. All the while his nose was still bleeding, the droplets landing on your lips as they continued to move against his.

You gasp and whimper pathetically when you feel Roman’s teeth sink into your bottom lip, pulling lightly as he moves back to look at you, his eyes impossibly dark and lust blown. His smirk grows as he quickly darts his tongue out to swipe across your bottom lip now, tasting the blood he’d just drawn. You instinctively do the same just after, hissing as you feel the sting of your torn skin.

Roman just chuckles darkly before latching his lips back onto yours, your mouths flooding with a mixture of both your bloods. Your body instinctively start to curve into him as he devours you with his hungry kiss. One of his hands holds you in place, splaying across your lower back, whilst his other hand crept up under your skirt. He wastes almost on time in letting his fingers tug your panties to the side so he could reach where you were already dripping and aching for him.

“Fuck baby,” he hisses against your mouth as his fingers rub between your folds. “You’re this wet over the taste of blood?” He teases darkly before winking and adding; “maybe you’re the upir...”

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