Bill Skarsgård Imagines

bar fight | roman

Her work day had been excruciatingly long and tedious. Although she wanted to go straight home after her eight hour day, she knew she needed one thing before she could call it; a strong whiskey. With her mind set on that whiskey, (Y/N) climbed into her worn, secondhand car and drove to the nearest bar she could find in the quaint town of Hemlock Grove.

After a mere fifteen minutes of driving on the dark, quiet road, the young woman found herself at a bar on the outskirts of town. It seemed rather dull and quiet for late on a Friday night. Nevertheless, Hemlock Grove wasn't a largely populated town nor did they get many passer by's so, it seemed just about right.

(Y/N) parked across the street before entering the quiet bar, wanting nothing more than what she went for. There was no more than a dozen people inside, either gathered around the pool table or sitting along the bar and sipping on their alcoholic beverages. (Y/N) trekked over to the bar where she waved down the bar tender and ordered her whiskey.

"Thank you," she muttered when the middle aged man placed the small glass of brown liquid down in front of her.

She swished it around, mesmerized by the smooth flow before taking a small sip. The liquid cascaded down her throat as she enjoyed her long awaited prize.

(Y/N) was minding her own business, casually sipping at her drink when she noticed a younger man enter the bar and seat himself at the opposite end. To her, it was refreshing to see someone other than middle aged, ragged men, barking among themselves. She had no intention of talking to the dark haired, tasteful looking man but just the thought of him being there made her feel somewhat better; safer, almost.

She watched as he lit the cigarette that dangled from his round lips, then took a deep drag, releasing a cloud of smoke up into the air. He seemed well put together, like he had his priorities straight.

(Y/N) downed the last of her whiskey then gathered her belongings. Only, when she went to exit the bar, she felt a large hand grab her upper arm, yanking her backwards. She was met with a tall, plump man, his dark eyes overcome with a sense of power and lechery. He looked down upon her like she was nothing but a piece of meat that he wanted to devour and his eyes said it all.

"Where do you think you're going, little lady?" He asked, his voice reeking of alcohol. (Y/N) tried yanking her arm away but failed, his grip was too strong.

"Let go of me," she snarled, restraining a wince as his grip tightened. She already began to feel an immediate bruise forming.

"I don't think so," he chuckled, caressing her delicate face with his round, calloused fingers.

Before (Y/N) could retort, someone else spoke up, catching the two by surprise. "You heard her," the young, sophisticated man spoke.

The plump man was taken aback, people didn't usually bother to speak up against him, especially in Hemlock Grove. But the man wasn't going to sit around while a beautiful young woman got taken advantage of.

"Just mind your own business, pal," the plump man said, his lecherous glare now returned.

(Y/N) stood rigid, hoping for the young man to say something more rather than that one protest.

"Let her go, and no one has to get hurt," he said in a nonchalant town, his glare still fixed on his half full glass. Not once did he look up. He seemed quite confident which surprised her considering he was at a bit of a disadvantage judging by their sizes.

"The only one getting hurt is you, you fucking jackass," the plump man growled, releasing the young woman from his grip. His attention was now solely fixed on the younger man.

"No one talks to a Godfrey like that," the young man stated, rising from his chair and throwing his fist across the plump mans face, sending him flying across the room and into one of the tables.

Godfrey.

(Y/N) knew exactly who her rescuer was. He was no other than Roman Godfrey, the wealthiest and most obstinate man in Hemlock Grove. If he was known to be so arrogant, why was he risking his safety to aid someone below him like (Y/N)?

The plump man staggered to his feet, his features now consumed by a strong rage. Roman stood there, a mischievous grin painted on his lips. It was almost as if this was just a game to him, and he knew he was going to win.

When the plump man darted at Roman, he took two fist fulls of his jacket, throwing him over the bar and crashing into the shelves of liquor, sending the bottles exploding on the floor around him. That did it. Her captor was knocked out cold. (Y/N) released a relieved breath she hadn't realized she was holding in.

The crowd that had formed around the brawl, gasped, taken aback by the actions that took place; how a tall, lean, young man managed to vanquish a large, plump, muscular one. (Y/N) stood among them, stiff with shock.

Roman nodded before turning on his heel and towards the exit of the bar. (Y/N) stood in place, still processing what had just happened. Then it hit her, Roman Godfrey had just saved her from a drunken bastard. She had to go properly thank him.

She weaved through the small crowd and out the door into the frigid night. She scanned the eerie street until her eyes landed upon a lean figure trekking down the sidewalk. She then ran after him, eager to thank him.

"Roman!" She called as she quickly approached the man. He heard her but chose to keep walking. Roman wasn't really the kind of guy who enjoyed chick flick moments. He liked to do his thing, then leave. No questions, comments or any interactions of sorts.

"Roman!" She called again, reaching out and grabbing his arm. He turned to face the heaving woman, his tall frame towering over hers. She gulped, his dominating presence all too intimidating.

"What?" He scowled.

(Y/N) took a step back, confused as to why he was so bitter. It was like helping her was forbidden but he chose to break the rules anyways.

She crossed her arms over her panting chest, "I wanted to thank you... for... helping me back there," she said, gazing up into his pale green orbs.

"I didn't do it for you," he sneered, his voice low and demeaning.

(Y/N) didn't know what to take of the situation so she continued, "then who'd you do it for?" she inquired.

Roman drew in a deep breath, seeming annoyed by her presence.

"I don't like men like that. They're fucking disgusting pigs," he confessed.

(Y/N)'s eyes traveled around Roman's face, taking in the beauty of his striking features. He really was a sight for sore eyes, even though his personality was almost the opposite.

"Well... I just wanted to thank you," she repeated, her voice laced with confidence.

Roman looked down into her eyes, his expression growing softer. Before she knew it, her face was cupped in his hands and his lips were pressed against her, sending a wave of electricity through her body. She had never met the man before tonight but she sure as hell knew in that moment that this wasn't going to be the last she saw of him.

He was the first to pull away but she longed for more. Roman kept his firm gaze on her before turning and continuing on down the dark, quiet street, the only light was the glow of the street lamps. He had seemed to regret his sudden outburst but knew he could not control it.

"Will I see you again?" She called, standing in disbelief that a man she thought to be cold and heartless, wanted her.

"I'll find you," He replied before disappearing.