Bill Skarsgård • Roman Godfrey Imagines

Certain

Warning: this will contain graphic smut

Read at your own discretion

Its by far one of my favorites, I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it

You didn't mean to ignore him, or his needs, but you had just gotten so carried away with your own work that by the time night falls and the sun says goodbye to the bright blue sky, you are ready to pass out and bury yourself in the plush covers of you and Bills shared bed. You love him, more than ever, but it just isn't something you've really thought about for weeks due to work and more pressing issues clouding your thoughts.

You are completely oblivious to how he feels, you don't realize that every time he comes up behind you, tall figure towering over your body as his firm hips press to your backside and face nuzzles into the area where your neck meets your shoulder; that he's trying so desperately to get you to see how badly he needs you, how long it's been since your fingertips have traveled down his smooth skin, or his large hands have caressed the parts of you only he has seen.

It's around 4:00 in the evening when you arrive home, Bills comfortable apartment instantly settling any worries you had previously to walking through the door. The warmth of his place, the smell of vanilla and honey in the air, always makes you feel like you are in a space filled with nothing but positive energy, and light.

You walk to the kitchen just ahead, and set your keys on the marble countertop with a *clank*. Your eyes skim around the cozy apartment, looking for any signs of the large, brooding man that holds your heart. You shrug, figuring he's in the shower as you turn and begin to walk down the medium sized hallway to you and Bills shared room.

You are just about to place your hand on the crystal knob of the white door, ready to walk in and change your clothes; maybe joining him in the shower if that's where he is, but a faint, petulant sound stops you in your tracks. You furrow your brows, stepping closer to the closed door and pressing your ear against the cold surface.

Your lips are parted slightly, as you take in the sound. You wonder how it took you so long to notice what the sound was, or how you didn't decipher it immediately. It's Bill, soft moans weakly emitting from his throat. Your eyes widen, mouth agape as a sudden rush of heat flies to your core.

You gently turn the doorknob, careful not to make a noise as the door opens just a crack; enough for you to see exactly what he's doing. The sight is enough to make you weak in the knees, a small gasp winding past your lips. Bill is lying on the bed, his long legs being the only thing that is covered as they shuffle restlessly underneath the sheets.

His broad, soft upper half is exposed and naked, biceps and forearms flexing; abdomen tense. Your curious, wide eyes then travel downwards to see what action is causing him to make the sounds you are hearing. His tight briefs are pulled down halfway, his long, slender fingers wrapped around his thick shaft. His swollen pink tip drips with pre cum as he pumps himself into his warm palm.

His breathing is heavy, chest heaving up and down, cheeks and lips a shade of pink; strands of his chestnut colored hair sticking to his forehead slightly due to small beads of sweat forming. "Uhh-mm, y/n, please.." he moans out, words trailing off as he bucks his hips up, trying to get the friction he needs so terribly.

His green eyes are squeezed shut, plush lips parted as he lets out shaky breaths. You feel wetness forming in your panties, cheeks burning red. A thought crosses your mind, one of confusion above all. Bill doesn't touch himself like this, not since you both got together. He always has you, and you always have him (he dislikes when you touch yourself instead of letting him take care of you), and so it was very much so known that masturbation wasn't needed.