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cherienymphe · 6 months
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Bite Marks & Bruises (Roman Godfrey x Reader)
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WARNINGS: NON-CON, stalking, period sex + consumption, blood, compulsion
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​
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summary: Roman Godfrey is spoiled and arrogant and rude...and he gets whatever he wants.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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The woods of Hemlock Grove seemed extra thick and hazardous tonight, as if it was their sole purpose to slow you down and trap you for him.
Bite marks and bruises littered your skin for months before you finally cracked. Months of walking into The Godfrey Mansion with fear, tutoring Shelley and distracted the entire time by thoughts of Roman. Wondering when he’d come to collect you, what corner he might pop out of, when you might feel the brush of his touch along your shoulder. You didn’t stay for dinner anymore, unable to sit across from Roman and have him stare you down as he reminisced on the feel of you coming around him, bleeding and broken.
Olivia Godfrey pretended not to notice Roman shadowing you like a ghost, like a grim reaper come to collect what he felt he was owed. She smiled that coy smile and waved around those waifish arms, all the while nursing a cigarette or a drink, fully aware of what her spoiled son got up to under the cover of darkness when no one could see your abuse at his hands.
Your last period had been your last straw, shuddering at the memory of Roman keeping you prisoner on top of him as he ate you out so long that it started to grow painful at some point. When he finally sank into you—in more ways than one—you couldn’t even try to enjoy it, too overstimulated to the point where you kept trying to get away.
Roman was sound asleep when you ran.
…but he was wide awake in time to run after you.
You truly didn’t even know where you were going, so set on just getting away from the terrifying boy that you just let your feet carry you. The biting air cut at your skin, and the leaves crunched beneath you. It was only moments ago when his voice had rang through the trees, your name bouncing off of the trunks as he desperately called for you.
“I can smell you!”
That fact did not deter you, sure that you could escape him. Every whip of a branch cut into you, and you knew the blood that you felt was the very same blood he smelled. The steep inclines and downward slopes of Hemlock Grove slowed you down, tiring you out, and your chest hurt from your harsh sobs. You had just pulled yourself up a small hill when you fell to the ground.
You were not alone.
“Y/N,” Roman snarled, a guttural edge to his voice that made you cry harder. “Get back here!”
He screamed it so passionately and loudly that it actually made you wince, and your vision was blurred from your tears as you clawed at the ground, fighting to get away from him. His fingers dug into your pants, preventing you from moving as much as you wanted, and despite the fact that you knew no one would come, you screamed for help when he crawled up your body.
He slammed your head into the ground, impulsively, and you saw stars in your vision. He succeeded in what he wanted, halting your movements for a time as you fought to collect yourself. In that time, Roman had already covered your frame, chest completely pressed down on your back. His hand closed around your throat, pulling your head back some.
“Don’t be stupid,” he roughly told you, lips at your ear. “Don’t be fucking stupid.”
You clawed at the dirt and leaves as his other hand reached beneath you, sliding into your pants with ease and cupping you. He made a noise of appreciation at the feel, and as Roman told you that you’d never escape him, he sank his teeth into your neck.
In your despair, you accepted this truth.
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nyxvuxoa-writes · 9 months
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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.
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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.
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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.
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inklore · 10 months
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I took this concept from your inpso tag and adapted it but:
Roman Godfrey + choking you and whispering "you're mine." in your ear as he pounds you into the mattress. bonus points if there's blood.
LOVE YOUUU
playful poison
— roman godfrey x (f)reader
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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.
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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?” 
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ncthandrake · 6 months
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ROMAN GODFREY Hemlock Grove | S01E11
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valeskafics · 1 year
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"Quid Pro Quo" - Roman Godfrey x Reader
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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!”
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userhaiz · 2 months
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Hemlock Grove Season 1 | Episode 1 Jellyfish in the Sky
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johnscameron · 9 months
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Hemlock Grove 3x09 Damascus
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storiesforallfandoms · 10 months
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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)
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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.
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bloodstainedmuzzle · 5 months
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Hemlock Grove   ↳  2x09 ― Tintypes
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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 😭 😩 😫 🙏
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soft-for-them · 11 months
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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.
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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.”
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psychwxrdd · 1 month
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tag, you're it
⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆
summary: roman's obsession grows to extreme points.
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warnings: dark! roman (lol as if he wasn't dark himself), horror themes, kidnap, obsession, stalking, i just listened to this song after YEARS and i got so many memories from roman fmv's with melanie martinez songs 😭 honestly so nostalgic. also i'm still writing the chapters for the collector series and the requests y'all send me, i'll write all of them, i'm really trying my best to write in all the small free moments i have!! but i promise it's gonna be all done babes 💕
There she was, again. My sweet girl. My reason to breathe. She was heading to school, still very early in the morning, the sky still looked a bit dark. It was winter, it felt like the most cold in months, years even.
She couldn't be real. It didn't looked real. I've never seen anything quite this beautiful, i didn't knew anything could ever look this beautiful. Didn't knew any human being could be so ethereal. Her gorgeous face covered by almost no makeup at all, i would guess she had mascara on, at the most. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose looked pink due to the weather. Her hair looked so beautiful, healthy, shiny... I would die for a touch. She looked so sweet, so cute with the warm clothes around her, her scarf giving a "out of a movie" look. Actually, with or without scarf, she naturally had that look. Something out of a fairytale, too good to be true.
I was watching from inside the car, she probably couldn't even tell there was a person in it since my windows are dark enough. My hands were shaking a bit, but not from cold.
I had to do this. Had to have her, needed to. There was no other option, i'd much rather die than live a life where she's not mine forever.
God, she would look so gorgeous covered in blood.
"Hey! Good morning, Y/n!" I smiled, when she pass near to my door. My heart was running out of rhytm, i thought i would faint at any second. I knew she would cry, i knew i would ruin her life, i knew all of this. I knew nothing would stop me, tho.
"Hi Roman!" she smiled brightly, making me melt inside. Such a doll. I want to see this smile till my last breath. She would grow to love me back at some point too, i know. Her scent filled the air and it got me intoxicated, god, she belonged to me.
"You're heading to school?"
"Yeah!"
"Wanna a cab?"
She stared at the other side of the street, wondering what she should answer. What a good girl.
"C'mon we go to the same school, it's on my way already" I winked, with the sweetest smile i could do.
"Ok." she agreed, with a shy smile. I almost passed out with excitment, opening the door for her.
"I have some candy, if you want"
"I'd love one!"
I grabbed some and gave it to her soft hands. I was so happy to know that i could touch her soft skin forever from now on.
Didn't took long for her head to fall into my shoulder. There you go. My sweet girl.
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Sharp Objects - Gillian Flynn / The Lion In Winter - James Goldman / The Last Days of Judas Iscariot - Guirgis / Hemlock Grove / Thirteen / Succession / Mayans MC / In The Blood - John Mayer / The Joy Luck Club / Gretel & Hansel (2020) / Succession x / Ordinary People / Easier Than Lying - Halsey / Playing God - Paramore / Killing Eve 3x05 / Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
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fishalthor · 1 year
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bill skarsgard in every episode of hemlock grove ever
↳ 3x05 boy in the box
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armavnd · 2 years
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Roman Godfrey in Hemlock Grove season 3
this scene >>>>
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teeramoonlover · 5 months
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Am I the only one that everytime I read fanfic, I'll imagine the female reader to be a certain person (actress) based on my preference and pov, so here's
𝐌𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 '𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬', 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬
SCREAM 1996
Billy Loomis and Stu Macher
Y/N: Krysten Ritter
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HOUSE OF WAX
Bo Sinclair
Y/N: Alexis Bledel
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HEMLOCK GROVE
Roman Godfrey
Y/N: Kristine Froseth
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GOTHAM
Jerome and Jeremiah Valeska
Y/N: Anya Taylor-Joy and Taissa Farmiga
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