#Roman Godfrey answered | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherienymphe · 7 months

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Bite Marks & Bruises (Roman Godfrey x Reader)

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

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies

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

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

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

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

Until about six months after you graduated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What he was doing was much worse.

“I really don’t mind walking.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I could always make you…”

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

His eyes remained on you the whole way there.

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

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

“…and Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The only person spared from that was his sister.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…and that someone else had noticed too.

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

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

You swore they weren’t as green, now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…and he knew it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The first night Roman raped you, it was raining.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sleep was finally yours.

…and then you woke up.

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

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

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

…and straight into Roman.

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

You paused at the action.

“Roman-.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

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

“…what? Roman, what are you-.”

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

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

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

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

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

…and you’d turned him down.

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

“Looking for the bathroom?”

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

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

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

“They say sex helps with that…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

His green irises glinted under the light.

“Roman…”

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

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

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

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

Pulling away, you pushed at his chest.

“Roman, what the hell?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You felt trapped.

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

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

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

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

It was a disturbing sound.

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

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

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

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

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

Roman Godfrey was equally rotten inside as he was beautiful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Roman was sound asleep when you ran.

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

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

“I can smell you!”

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

You were not alone.

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

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

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

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

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

In your despair, you accepted this truth.

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

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inklore · 1 month

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YA GIRL HASN'T WRITTEN ANYTHING SINCE OCTOBER!! WTF!!

so this little sleepover is to change that but also welcome ya girl back from her very long very needed hiatus. so let's hope this doesn't flop and let's hope the whore is still in your girl enough to write some sheet gripping fics for you babes.

lets go over the rules:

no minors, ya'll aren't allowed on my blog let alone interacting with my things but i feel the need to put a reminder.

when you send a prompt for a drabble please don't just include the number, include the dialogue, it's much appreciated.

you don't have to be following me, we don't have to be mutuals, anyone can send something in, all are welcome.

there is no start or end date, when i post this you can send something in, and it ends when i run out of asks to answer.

the amount of stuff you can send in is limitless so go wild babes.

DRABBLES — send in prompts from this post, this post, or this post, for any of the characters down below and i'll whip ya up something good.

GAMES — fuck / marry / kiss, would you rather, this or that, send me something from this post, send me a kink and i'll rate it, headcanon things.

GRAPHICS — divider requests, dni + reblog banners.

MUTUALS ONLY — send me a little heart, of any color, and i'll write you a letter.

ETC — get personal and ask me random questions, advice, send me a secret, go gaga over your recent hyperfixation, literally all asks are welcome!

characters applicable for drabbles:

pedro verse — joel miller, frankie morales, javi gutierrez

oscar verse — marc spector, poe dameron, santiago garcia

top gun — jake seresin, bradley bradshaw, javy machado

driver verse — adam sackler, ben solo, flip zimmerman

etc — villanelle, roman godfrey, colin bridgerton, oliver quick, farleigh start, jordan li

if you have any questions or inquires about other characters, this lil celebration as a whole, please shoot ya girl a message 💗

#ya girls back celebration

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psychwxrdd · 12 days

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happiness is a butterfly ୨ৎ

serial killer! roman godfrey, inspired by the lana song, mentions of murder, death of loved ones, grief, post traumatic stress, suggestive and angst in general

Since the day she met Roman, Y/n felt fulfilled, on cloud nine. She couldn't ask for anything better; The most handsome man she had ever met, almost every day spoiled her with expensive gifts, love and care. He was a gentleman to her, and despite the rumors about his family in town, she really liked Roman for who he was, for who he showed himself to be to her. And he was never anything but great.

Except for the times that he wasn't.

They started going out at a vulnerable time for her, her mother had passed away just a few weeks ago. She was an emotional wreck. Grief was the worst pain she had ever felt, it sickened and burned her soul every day and nothing could cure it except bringing her mother back. Dating the boy was helping her distract herself. Not that she was using him as therapy, but having some comfort and someone to hug at a time like that helped her a lot.

They were together, in Roman's room, the atmosphere was heating up. They kissed passionately while Roman lowered the strap of her thin blouse, trying to get to her bra. Y/n had been trying to avoid intimacy as much as possible lately, she couldn't concentrate. Not when all that came to mind were the tragic memories of the night she arrived home and there were police officers all around her place, two coming up to her and telling her that the woman who had once carried her on her lap had been brutally murdered.

You only remember receiving the news, and nothing else from that night. It was all a big blur, and trying to remember only caused you pain and turned your stomach, you wanted to forget at all costs but it had terribly changed the way your brain works. It wasn't a nightmare or a movie, it had really happened and nothing would change that. The trauma would stay with you for the rest of your life.

The police were still investigating who was behind the heinous crime, and while there were no answers, you didn't have peace for any second of your days.

"Roman..." You said almost in a whisper. He seemed to awaken from a trance, his eyes were dark and it was noticeable how much he wanted the moment to go on. He raised his eyebrows a little, looking worried.

"Are you okay?" He asked. You told him to get off you and he did.

It was embarrassing to talk about it, even though you were there almost having sex, it was worse having to verbalize your feelings. It was more intimate for you, it seemed more vulnerable.

"I don't think I'm ready yet..."

He stared at you with an unreadable expression for a few seconds, making you nervous. He smiled slightly then.

"Hey" he ran his hand through your hair "We don't have to rush anything, I understand. Let's do it when you're really ready, hm?"

You sighed in secret relief and looked down at the floor.

"You know... I know you've been going through some terrible things, so if you want to vent or talk... Or anything." He placed his hand on top of yours.

"Thank you, Roman" you smiled sincerely. You'd never thought the rich boy would have such a generous heart. You felt bad for not being able to give him what he wanted, what he needed, you felt useless and immature. You didn't understood your own feelings or validate them, Roman had been nothing but great to you lately. And you couldn't reciprocate.

"Is there anything I can do to reward you?"

"What?" He looked at you confused "Reward me for what?"

"For not being able to have sex."

"Are you fucking kidding? God, you don't need to reward me for this" he looked directly into your eyes, intensely, so that you would trust his words. "I just want you, I want your presence."

He lifted your chin with one hand.

"I'm in love with you, darling. Truly, from the bottom of my heart...Not for carnal reasons."

She held his wrists affectionately, her shining eyes staring at Godfrey's beautiful face. She loved smelling him up close, not just his perfume. The scent of his breath, something like genetic compatibility. It was nice and familiar, sweet. Comfortable. It felt like home.

As much as she felt millions of things bubbling in her heart and stomach, she couldn't say anything. Instead, she kissed him.

"Can we take a shower together?" She asked, shyly.

He nodded. She didn't know what would happen inside, even though they had just discussed it. He ran his thumb across the apple of her cheek.

"Come with me."

Inside the shower, nothing happened, nothing directly. It was something sensual, provocative and intimate, but it didn't end there.

The hot water falling on you, your wet skin touching, hugging each other, the kisses on your neck and the sighs, the strong scent of a expensive lotion... It was the most erotic thing you had ever witnessed, honestly. You weren't a virgin, you had sex a few times before, but nothing ever with this intense energy surrounding both of you.

You felt your desire for him burning, even though you couldn't bring yourself to go forward. Your tongues danced together slowly and passionately, the taste of water, mint, the soft feeling of his lips, the warm tongues that fit together so perfectly and deliciously.

Roman's hands roamed all over your body, caressing, squeezing, whispering hot things in your ear. When he turned off the shower and dried off, you were both still full of desire, and Roman carried you to the bed, covered by the towel. He lay on top of you, and continued the hot kisses. He separated your lips for a few moments, caressing them with his fingers. You opened your mouth slightly, letting him touch your tongue.

You sucked his fingers and he closed his eyes for a few seconds.

"Can I relax you?"

You thought a little. It wasn't sex after all, was it? You had already masturbated before. And he wouldn't hurt you, he wanted to relax you, make you feel good. Nothing bad would happen to you.

You nodded, but you had already confirmed with your eyes without realizing it.

Roman used his wet fingers to trace your intimacy, massaging your clitoris slowly and delicately. You closed your eyes, reveling in the sensation. It wasn't like he needed to get his fingers wet, you were already fervently wanting it.

"Don't close your eyes, look here, at me" He said softly. You looked, embarrassed, but the shame soon gave way to the desire to beg for more.

"Can i put my fingers inside? Is that okay?"

"Yes... please."

Roman gave you two orgasms that night. One by fingering you and the other by oral sex. When you both recovered, you put on clothes and lay down to take a nap. The afternoon had gotten cold, you were tired due to so much erotic tension that was felt in the air, it was heavy, intense.

When you woke up, Roman wasn't in the room... You looked around the corner and there was no sign of him. You got up searching for your phone to see what time it was. Shit, you had promised your friends that you would go to the university party with them that night.

"You're awake," Roman said, bursting into the room. "I had to go out to sort out some things."

He was wearing a different outfit than the one he had put on to bed a few hours before.

"I have to go now, I promised Lily and Isabelle that I would go with them to a university party tonight"

"I'll take you" He smiled, and you stood up.

"You can take me home, I'll go from there to the party"

"No, never, I'll take you and pick you up."

"Why don't you go to the party with me?"

Roman seemed to think about the proposal.

"I don't think I'm in the mood to party"

"Me neither" You confessed without realizing "I want to go to have fun, distract myself. Dancing makes me happy"

He dropped you home, and it didn't took long for you to get ready. Your natural beauty didn't need many details, you're a natural highlight.

Throughout the party, Roman was silent. Y/n danced with her friends and for some moment, she felt truly happy for the first time in weeks. Her chest was soft from the laughter that had genuinely escaped from the inside out. She felt light.

Roman was sitting in a corner, watching the girl intensely. There was no expression on his face, except for his eyes that almost undressed her on their own.

The girl exchanged looks with him and smiled, but the smile was not returned. She felt her chest hurt a little, that damn feeling again. She decided to check if he was okay.

"Come on, let's dance" She smiled with her teeth. Roman continued to stare at her without any reaction, leaving her embarrassed. "Is everything ok?"

"I'm leaving. Text me when you want to go home, I'll call you a taxi"

She couldn't keep her smile after hearing that. Her heart throbbed. Had she done something wrong? Why did he change so much in a matter of a few hours?

"Are you mad at me?"

He completely ignored her sentence, turning his back and walking away. Leaving her there, standing there, with her heart in pieces.

She ran after him. "Roman!"

When they were outside, Godfrey took off his blazer and handed it to her. "It's cold, wear it."

"Roman, what's gotten into you?"

"I have some things to sort out"

"Can't we at least dance?"

He stared at her for an uncomfortable long time.

"No." And he got into the car. She was there, with tears in her eyes, hugging his blazer. She felt in panic, helpless, heartbroken. All the times he told her he love her, did he meant it after all? Why was he always changing his behaviour all of sudden?

She got into the party again, but Roman never leaving her mind. So in love that it felt like she would throw up.

Over the next few days, she heard nothing from Roman, no calls or texts, nothing. She didn't want to bother him, but her heart hurt so much, what happened?

One moment, they were experiencing intense touching at his mansion and suddenly he seemed to ignore her existence. He had done this before, but it never lasted longer than one day.

She was even more depressed. It would be the one-month anniversary of her mother's death, and now she had also abruptly cut ties with the person she was desperatedly in love with.

Could it be some personality disorder? One moment he wanted her and the next he didn't, and would that be the case? Were they bipolar episodes? Issues with his mother? God, she questioned herself so much that she felt like her head would burn at any moment.

That Thursday morning, the local police had gotten in touch to say that they possibly had new information about the killer. Y/n was in a mix of panic, anxiety, melancholy and perhaps a possible relief for imagining that justice was coming for the one who took her mother's life.

She just didn't expect to find out that Roman Godfrey was the main suspect. Not only for her mother's death, it was suspected that there was a serial killer around. And that the police was almost sure he was guilty for all of them.

#roman godfrey #hemlock grove #roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey x you #roman godfrey x y/n #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard x you #bill skarsgard x y/n #bill skarsgård #marquis de gramont #vincent de gramont #lana del rey #happiness is a butterfly #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard fanfiction

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ourblued · 11 months

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📞 + 😠 : an angry voicemail / @divile.

❝ roman . ❞ billie lets out , huffing slightly . god , he’s not answering their calls —— & it’s the middle of the night . ❝ i know you’re ignoring me , roman . but it’s really important , ❞ eyes rolling , taking a breath while they’re trying to get their thoughts straight . . . knowing that it’ll keep them up from sleeping ; & they need to sleep . they should sleep instead of worrying about roman fucking godfrey . ❝ if you don’t answer your phone by 5 in the morning , don’t expect me to see me at work . ❞ billie’s speaking into the phone before hanging up , throwing their phone onto their bed , sighing softly . frustrated —— wondering what to do , instead of worrying .

#&*. answered.#divile.#divile #i’ll give you this as our very first interaction ! smooch.

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sanguinesinners · 2 years

Note

❛ you’re welcome to stay, if you want. ❜ (Shay to Roman)

Godfrey greens trailed down to the floor, as they always had managed to do once confronted in this sort of situation, with Shay's attentive manner, the Upir didn't know what to do with himself.

"You sure you wanna put up with that?" He questioned, as though he was being defiant with himself "-Cause I sure as hell wouldn't if I was in your shoes" A small sigh left his lips before he gave Shay a small shrug. Stop being so damn petty you asshole!

"I uh.... I could stay just this once? Then I'll be out your hair by morning"

@ofwondersandhares

#Roman Godfrey answered #Interaction ;#{shut up and kiss me 💋}#//Ty for this <3

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littlemelaninfics · 1 year

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Going to work for the next 7 hours! Send me your naughty thots and I’ll answer them when I’m home

Chris Evans + Steve Rogers, Andy Barber, Ransom Drysdale, Mr.Freezv, Ari Levinson

Pablo Schreiber

Henry Cavill + August Walker, Walter Marshall

Evan "Buck" Buckley

Eddie Diaz

Sam Wilson (He's not my favorite, but you'll see him sprinkled in)

Bucky Barnes

Sebastian Stan

Chris Hemsworth + Thor

Bill Skarsgard + Pennywise, Roman Godfrey, Mark (assassination

nation)

Dylan O'Brien + Colin, Mitch Rapp

Alexander Skarsgärd + Perry Wright, Charlie Venner

Negan (twd)

Idris Elba

Dominc Fike + Elliot (euphoria)

Fezco (euphoria)

Nate Jacobs

#chris evans #chris evans smut #dark!chris evans #dark!steve rogers #bucky barnes smut #dark chris evans #dark!bucky barnes #marvel #pablo schreiber #pablo schreiber smut #henry cavill x black reader #chris evans x black reader #dylan o'brien

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stranger-nightmare · 2 years

Note

🌹

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

from kinktober day twelve - blood kink with Roman Godfrey

- hope

for every 🌹 in my inbox I’ll post a random line from a wip

#the answer to your nightmare #kinktober #roman godfrey #roman godfrey smut #tw: blood kink

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raewritesfiction · 2 years

Text

Confessions [Bill Skarsgard as Roman Godfrey] - reupload-

A/N: some more Roman Godfrey! PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS. I've been putting this one off because of the content. Plot: Roman meets you in a graveyard but decides to take you inside the church for some fun. Pairing: Roman Godfrey X Reader. Warnings: Religiously this could prove to be very insulting to some people. I'm not insensitive to beliefs and I genuinely apologize for my offending anyone with this. There's gonnabe smut, there's gonnabe strong language and lots of it aimed at Religion. If you believe any of this is going to cause you an issue, PLEASE do not read and just skip this one.

--- --- ---

You had to have chosen a night with no moon to meet Roman in a graveyard, of all places he chose a graveyard and you had willingly accepted because you knew at some point you were gonna get laid tonight. Hopefully not in the graveyard.

As expected Roman is stood outside the church with a cigarette in his mouth; I wonder how long he’s been stood waiting and then note only one other butt on the floor as he discards the one he had been smoking to join it.

“Hey.” He nods and smirks at me. “You actually wearing anything under that coat?”

I raise my eyebrow “Yes…Sort of.” I shift my feet slightly and am glad it's dark enough that he can't see I'm blushing. Truth is that under my ridiculously huge faux fur coat I'm in nothing but a slip dress and slinky panties.

He chuckles and takes hold of the leading edge where the broken zip once actually worked and pulls me against him. He’s at least six inches taller than me so I have to look up into his amazing eyes which focus on my slightly parted lips for only a moment before he dips his head and presses his against them; Roman’s tongue wastes no time pushing into my mouth and exploring while his hands snake around my waist and down onto my hips inside my coat.

“Cold?” He mumbles after breaking the kiss.

I shrug a little “I guess… wanna warm me up?” Licking my lips slightly.

Roman smirks “Thought you’d never ask.” He leans down and nips my lower lip enough to bruise. “Follow me…” I smile and let him lead me inside the small church; it was mostly abandoned but still taken care of by the locals and used for special events. Luckily there was nothing planned for a few weeks so there was no real danger of getting caught by anyone apart from the security on the grounds. Roman makes sure the door is shut before turning to face me and giving me a devilish smirk “It seems we’re alone. Just as well really.”

“Oh? What do you have planned, Mister?” I narrow my eyes at him playfully and let him push me backwards between the pews until we reach the pulpit behind which were stacks of organ music, choir books and Bibles scattered around.

“Up here..” he motions behind me and I turn to see a bare Alter only covered with a large piece of red fabric.

“On the Alter?” I question, a little surprised. “Uh-Huh.” he pushes me backwards again and makes sure I don’t trip up the steps leading to the Chancel where the Alter is housed.

“Good job neither of us are religious, huh?” I giggle.

“Fuck religion…” he answers simply and pushes me against the Alter, planting his hands either side of me and pinning me to it. “...Fuck God, Fuck the Devil and most of all...I’m gonna fuck you…” he says the last part against my lips then gives a rough kiss as he lifts my dress to find im wearing the smallest pair of panties I own. “Is there really any point in these?” he grips them and pulls instantly snapping the sides.

I squeak a little as the elastic snaps against my skin “Hey… I like those.”

“I’ll buy you more, in every colour there is… but for now? Open your mouth…”

I blink a little “Wh...I…” as I open my mouth to speak Roman pushes the small ball of fabric into the space.

“Shh!” he holds a finger to his lips and then lifts me up onto the Alter, opening my legs by my knees and rubbing his fingers over me. “So wet already? You been thinking of me babygirl?”

Dropping my head back I moan around my panties; yes I had been thinking of him. I’d been thinking of him and his cock since he had fucked me into submission a few weeks back. I’d felt him for days after every time I moved and no matter what I had done, nothing had got me off like he had.

I moan louder and lean back on my hands when he eases his fingers into me - teasing me. After a few moments I was panting and whining, my arms unable to hold me up anymore. I lay back across the Alter and realise I’m exactly where he wants me and how he wants me; his fingers slow completely and I whine when he removes them from me - I’m soon crying out in pleasure when his cock fills me suddenly.

Roman gives me no time to adjust to him, just like last time, just how I like it. His hands push up my dress over my breasts and then glide back down to grip my hips hard enough to bruise me. He can mark me up as much as he likes. I arch and rock my hips to his rough thrusts, my arms above my head and gripping the Alter as I groan around my panties. Roman grunts and pants heavily, thrusting harder and snapping his hips deep into me; I was going to feel this for days as well.

I pant as best I could and move my heels to hook on the edge of the Alter; lifting and rocking my hips to him at the same time. Roman moves and lifts my legs over his shoulders, leaning forward to fold me almost in half; I’ve never felt anyone this deep. A hand plants on the Alter to my side while the other leaves a sharp sting across my face when he slaps me. I groan and give up trying to move myself to Roman; letting him take over completely when he wraps his hands around my throat and tightens his grip.

“Who’s your God?” his voice is rough and low against me. I moan and look into his eyes doing the best I can to say “You are!” around the panties.

“That’s right… don’t forget it…” He growls and I can tell he’s still watching me after I drop my head back again; he knows what this does to me. I whine and grip the Alter with my fingers; I can feel my body already starting to lose everything and I don’t give a fuck who hears me as I moan, groan and call out around the now sodden fabric in my mouth. Roman pants against my skin and I can tell just how close he is too. I tremble under him and will him to tighten his grip on the sides of my neck; he must know somehow because he does exactly that and just as my vision starts to go dark he releases his grip. I see literal stars as the blood rushes to my head and I gasp in a deep breath; my body all but convulses as I cum hard around his cock, I feel my juices squirting out on each of his following thrusts and then he stills deep inside me - f it weren’t for the panties, I would be screaming his name.

I lay panting on the Alter under Roman; he slowly moves and leans up then gasps.

“Hmm?” I frown and lean up a little.

“Shh!!” he listens and holds up a finger, “Move!” he laughs and pulls out of me then helps me down off the Alter, dragging me after him to a confessional booth. In the rush to move I still have my panties in my mouth but Roman soon relieves me of them and stuffs them in his pocket. “Shh!” he reiterates and holds his finger to my lips.

I stay perfectly still as a flashlight sweeps around the Church. Roman slowly sits and then motions for me to kneel in front of him which I happily do. After a few minutes we hear footsteps leaving the Church and crunching away on the gravel. He chuckles and looks down at me “What you waiting for?”

“Huh?” I frown.

“I haven’t cum… get to work… we ain’t leaving till I get my happy ending!” he gives a wink. If anyone else said it I’d have punched them in the dick and ran off. For Roman however…

“Forgive me, daddy… for I am about to sin.” I push my hair back and tie it with the elastic around my wrist then drop my head and take him fully in my mouth. He hadn’t had the pleasure of my mouth around his cock before so had no clue how well I could deep throat from almost any angle.

Roman grips the small amount of seat either side of him and leans his head back against the booth. His breathing is rough and heavy, small whimpers escape occasionally but more often he moans and tries to roll his hips. My hand goes to his balls and massages firmly while I suck hard along his cock, bobbing my head and swirling my tongue. I keep my cheeks hollowed and don’t bother to wipe away any of the mess I’m making because I know there will be more very soon. I can feel his balls twitching and tightening in my hand while his panting has become shallow and his hands are now gripping the sides of the small booth. I twist and bob my head, humming and groaning around his cock, scraping my teeth lightly until he groans louder. I scrape them heavier and moan when he calls out briefly before covering his mouth to muffle his pleasure. His balls twitch again and his breathing hitches; I feel him fill my mouth and throat then proceed to swallow around him. I look up under my lashes at him as I make sure he’s cleaned up.

“Oh baby girl…” he moans and relaxes back. I smile and wipe the corners of my mouth, looking up at him. His face is flushed and there’s a small smirk on his lips while he calms his breathing, running a hand through his hair.

“We are gonna do a lot more sinning….”

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård #roman godfrey #reupload #confessions #imagine

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