mossy💿

bonus!!

tattoo artist rommulas x bsf!reader

❕cw ❕teasing, oral (f rec), fingering, slapping, choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, backshots, degrading, aftercare 🤤 (cooked up some BULLSHIT)

a/n: thank you so much for the amount of support you guys have given me i love you all so much!!!

for the past few weeks, you could tell something was off with roman.

it wasn’t anything obvious.

it was all the little things.

he stopped calling just to tell you about his day. your texts sat unanswered for hours, sometimes days, before he’d send back a dry, one-word reply that sounded nothing like him. whenever you ran into him around town, he’d offer you a quick nod, maybe a mumbled “hey,” before finding an excuse to disappear.

it was strange.

roman had never been distant.

not with you.

did you do something wrong when you two fucked? was he no longer interested in you after you let him do that to you.

you’d lay in bed after work thinking about every possible situation that could be happening,

he was kinda distant before everything even happened.

you picked up your phone, opened your text thread with roman and re-read it all

sunday

3:36 pm “hi romy, do you wanna get dinner tonight”

7:48 pm “sorry if you’re busy, i went out with lola instead”

11:31 pm “i love u romy, call when u can”

monday

9:36 am “hey, just checking in”

11:43 am “roman? are you okay?”

3:47 pm from roman “im fine”

3:48 pm “romyyyyy hiiii, i miss uu”

tuesday

5:43 pm from roman “❤️”

you swallowed hard, trying to fight back the tears that pooled in your eyes, you gripped onto your phone hard, your thumb hovering over the call button

you press it.

it rang four times.

roman answered

“what?”

you swallowed again trying to keep your voice from shaking,

“uh hi… i just wanted to check-“

he cut you off

“i said i was fine y/n”

the tears started falling.

“oh” you said with a shaky breath “um sorry, i’ll go.”

your thumb hovers over the hang up button

but roman’s voice cuts through again

“angel, wait.”

your breath hitches

“yeah?”

“i’m sorry babygirl, i don’t know what’s been up recently, i’ve just felt weird since i fucked you, and then you posted me. i just didn’t know how to feel angel” his voice was steady and smooth like he new you were upset too

your heart pounded in your chest, he said it. he actually admitted he’d been acting weird because of you two having sex.

and the post.

you hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. not now…

now everything made sense.

he wasn’t mad about you, he was freaking out over what people might think… or what he thought people would assume about him being publicly claimed like that by someone like you, someone so boldly affectionate online while he'd always been quiet.

“babygirl,” his voice came again softer now regretful “i didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“i don’t know how to act”

roman’s voice cracked a little. roman never showed vulnerability like this.

“i don’t know how to act around you,” he repeated, quieter now, almost confused by himself. “i keep thinking, people saw that post and assumed things. like I was suddenly taken or whatever.”

he paused.

then: “but the truth is… i wanted everyone to know you were mine after we slept together.” his breath hitched slightly, like admitting that out loud cost him something big.

“so why did it make me feel so weird? why couldn’t i text back normal? why did seeing my name pop up scare you?”

another pause, longer this time, heavy with guilt and confusion.

“like jesus christ roman, im not one of your whores. i’m your bestfriend for fucks sake.”

the silence on the other end of the line was deafening.

roman didn’t breathe. didn’t move.

and then a sharp inhale like you’d just punched him in the chest.

“whore?” His voice dropped, low, raw, hurt in a way that made your stomach flip. “you think… i think of you like that?”

he let out a broken kind of laugh, not mocking, but devastated. like he couldn't believe those words came from you, from someone who knew him better than anyone ever had.

“yeah you know what y/n, i fucking did. i treated you like a whore because you are one. you shoved your ass right up against me like you were begging to be fucking touched” he gritted out through clenched teeth.

your breath hitched, the tears started coming out harder

“that’s what you think of me..?”

the line went quiet again, roman’s breathing ragged, like he was fighting to control himself.

then came the worst sound of all: silence.

no defense. no apology. just… nothing.

and that silence? that said everything.

you were his best friend since middle school. you’d held him when his grandpa died, you’d sat with him through panic attacks, cried with him after breakups, been there for every single stupid thing life threw at both of you…and now this?

now he called you a whore like it meant something casual? like sleeping together erased years of loyalty and love?

your chest burned, hot tears streaming down your face as the weight crashed over you:

he didn’t just mess up…

he completely dehumanized what happened between you two, and in doing so, destroyed whatever trust was left standing.

and then roman finally spoke again, voice quieter now, still cold underneath:

“whatever bro. block me or something, i don’t care.”

the words hit like a slap.

roman your romy, the boy who used to text you good morning with heart emojis even when he was sick, just dismissed you like some random girl from a club hookup.

and worse? he didn't sound angry anymore.

he sounded empty.

like he’d already checked out emotionally, and now wanted nothing to do with the fallout of his own cruelty.

you couldn’t breathe through your nose, the sobs were coming too fast, ugly and gasping, tears dripping onto your phone screen as it sat there in silence after his voice had cut off so coldly…

then… one second passed.

two seconds passed…

the buzz of the text hit like a lightning strike. you stared at the screen, breath still uneven from crying.

roman- “i’m coming over”

no explanation. no softener. just those three words, bold and final, like a command or maybe an apology wrapped in panic.

you didn’t respond.

couldn’t.

your chest was tight, your face swollen from tears, heart pounding with that awful mix of hope and dread, the kind you feel right before something life-changing happens… but you don't know if it's good or bad yet.

minutes passed.

then footsteps on the porch outside your apartment, fast ones. roman never knocked unless he was pissed or desperate. and right now? he wasn't knocking at all.

the door swung open without warning and there stood roman hoodie pulled low over his eyes jaw clenched tight as ever but something about him looked shattered underneath it all

he didn’t say anything at first just stepped inside kicked the door shut behind him with his foot and stared at you really stared like he was seeing your face for the first time since everything went wrong

your cheeks were wet tear tracks still fresh on your skin phone still clutched in one hand where you’d dropped it after reading his text

roman’s expression flickered, anger? guilt? regret? something raw, then collapsed into pure devastation

roman didn’t hesitate.

in two long strides he closed the distance between you, hands finding your waist, then sliding down to grip your ass firmly. before you could react, he lifted you up with surprising strength like it was nothing and carried you through the apartment

your breath hitched as his arms locked around your thighs, holding tight while his steps were heavy but sure, straight toward the bedroom door at the end of hall

he kicked it open gently because even now in this moment of raw emotion roman never slammed things unless truly angry (and right now? not angry)

roman lowered you onto the bed slowly, carefully, like he was afraid you’d break or vanish if he moved too fast

the second your back touched the mattress, his lips found your skin

your shirt had ridden up slightly during the carry and without asking or warning roman leaned down and pressed his mouth to your bare hip bone, soft at first,a gentle kiss that sent a shiver through both of you

then another. then another.

each one followed by a hickey: warm suction kisses that bloomed into faint purple marks against your pale skin, not aggressive but tender in their possession like he was claiming what belonged to him again

roman didn’t say a word.

he slid off the bed and onto his knees in front of you, movements deliberate, cold almost,and fixed his eyes on your thighs. they were tense, trembling slightly from crying and everything that just happened

he noticed how tight they clenched together like you were trying to disappear into yourself

and without warmth or kindness he scoffed low under his breath not loud enough for most people to hear but loud enough for you to catch it clear as day

then he grabbed both sides of your thighs with rough hands squeezing hard, not painful but definitely aggressive dominance

roman’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your shorts without asking, tugging them down in one sharp motion. you didn’t fight him, just sat there frozen, heart slamming

the cool air hit your skin but it was nothing compared to the heat of his stare as he looked at what was now exposed: your thighs still bare, panties on, plain cotton ones you’d worn that day because you weren’t trying to impress anyone

he didn’t compliment them.

didn't say they looked cute or soft or anything nice.

instead roman leaned forward slowly and blew a hot breath right over the thin fabric covering your center, just enough pressure through cloth to make you flinch

the second his breath hit, your body reacted, thighs tensed again instinctively and you bit your lip to keep from making a sound

roman saw it.

of course he did.

that little flinch? the way your hips twitched up slightly toward him like they had a mind of their own?

he smirked. not sweet or playful — no. this was cruel amusement. the kind that said “i see how bad you want me but you don’t deserve nice”

without warning he pressed his mouth right against where your panties covered you and kissed once through the fabric, slow, deliberate, then pulled back just enough to watch for another reaction

roman’s voice came out low, rough around the edges, not yelling but cold and cutting in that quiet way that hurts more than screaming

"you’re shaking," he said flatly, eyes locked on your face.

not a question. an observation. like he was dissecting you.

then without waiting for a response:

"why? you scared of me now?"

his tone wasn’t angry, worse than anger. it was detached disappointment mixed with something almost mocking underneath

he leaned in again slowly and this time nipped lightly through your panties, just enough pressure to sting, not biting hard but making his presence felt before pulling back to watch how you’d react

roman’s breath hit your skin again, this time colder, like he was exhaling on purpose to make you shiver

"look at you," he muttered, voice dripping with something sharp and judgmental. "all worked up just from me touching your stupid little panties."

his fingers slid under the elastic band of your waistband now, not pulling them down yet, just teasing, holding them there while his thumb rubbed small circles over the fabric right where it covered you

then suddenly:

"you want me to take these off?"

he asked it like a challenge. like if you said yes he’d laugh at how desperate you sounded

your breath hitched when he asked, the question hanging in the air like a test

you swallowed hard, your mouth dry, and nodded slightly. just once. barely noticeable.

but roman saw it.

of course he did.

a slow, dark smirk curled at the corner of his lips, not kind or sexy, but smug. like you’d handed him power without even fighting for it

"say please," he said flatly, thumb still moving over your panties in lazy circles that weren’t helping anything

his voice was calm. cold authority wrapped around every syllable. no room to negotiate

you opened your mouth, but no sound came out at first

your throat felt tight, shame and want twisting together in a mess. you hadn’t expected him to make you beg. roman never did that before

after a shaky inhale, barely above a whisper:

"please..."

it cracked halfway through.

weak. pathetic maybe, if you were hearing yourself from the outside.

roman’s expression didn’t soften though. not even close.

he just stared for one long second… then slowly started pulling your panties down over your hips

roman took his time.

every inch of fabric he peeled down felt like a lifetime, his fingers slow, deliberate, not gentle but not rough either. just methodical, like undressing you was some chore he had to do

your hips lifted slightly on their own, helping him without thinking, and the second your panties hit mid-thigh level, cold air rushed over your now-bare skin

he didn’t look away from what was exposed. no embarrassment or awe in his eyes. just… observation. clinical almost.

then finally:

"spread."

one word.

flat tone.

not romantic at all

you hesitated.

your legs were already tense, thighs pressed together from nerves, and now roman wanted you to spread? just like that?

a flush crept up your neck. embarrassment burned in your chest. this wasn’t how things used to be between you two. not even close.

but he was staring at you, waiting, patient but unrelenting

after another second of silence, shaky hands slowly slid down and gently pushed your knees apart

not wide open or anything dramatic… just enough space for him to see everything fully now

roman leaned in close again, his face hovering right above where you were now exposed so close you could feel the warmth of his breath

but he didn’t kiss. didn’t lick. didn't do anything meaningful.

instead, he exhaled slowly a hot puff of air that ghosted over your most sensitive skin… then pulled back just as quickly

you twitched.

your hips lifted slightly off the bed instinctively chasing contact that wasn't coming

he saw it. of course he did.

and instead of giving you what your body clearly wanted?

roman smirked, small and cruel this time, and blew another lazy breath against you like it was some kind of joke

roman finally leaned in, but instead of giving you what your body was screaming for, he dragged his lips *just* to the side of where you wanted them most

a soft, almost lazy kiss landed on your inner thigh, high up, close enough that it made your stomach flip… but not where it mattered

then another.

and another.

each one trailing slowly higher with agonizing slowness until his mouth hovered right there, a hair's breadth away from touching properly

he paused.

breathed out gently again, warm air hitting sensitive skin, and then pulled back completely this time sitting back on his heels like nothing happened

finally, finally, roman’s mouth made contact.

but it wasn’t soft. wasn’t tender or sweet like you might’ve imagined in a different moment.

his lips closed gently around your clit, warm and wet through the contact, but he didn’t suck right away. no pressure at first, just holding it there between his lips like he was testing how sensitive you were

then slowly… so slowly…

he applied light suction.

not hard enough to make you cry out, just enough to send an electric pulse straight up your spine that made your whole body tense

his tongue flicked once over the tip immediately after releasing

the second his tongue flicked over your clit, something in you snapped.

all the tension, all the crying earlier, all that hurt and anger from roman’s distance,it melted into pure sensation.

your back arched off the bed without meaning to. a quiet gasp escaped before you could stop it

roman didn’t pull away, i stead he took advantage.

his mouth grew bolder now: lips sealing tighter around your clit while his tongue circled it once… twice… then flattened against it with slow pressure as he sucked properly this time

roman’s mouth became relentless.

his lips stayed locked around your clit, warm and insistent, while his tongue worked in quick circles, small tight movements that were precise and mean because they knew exactly how to make you lose control

the suction increased just a fraction more — not painful but deep enough to send shocks through your entire body. every nerve lit up at once

you couldn’t help it: a whimper slipped out as your hips jerked upward instinctively chasing his mouth again

this time he didn’t pull back or tease. no. he followed the motion instantly pressing closer so his nose brushed against you while still working with ruthless focus

your breath came in short, shaky gasps every exhale trembling as roman’s mouth worked you over with cruel precision

"ah—" the sound slipped out before you could stop it. high-pitched. desperate.

then another whimper followed immediately after when his tongue dragged slowly up your clit and flicked the very tip

your hands flew to his hair without thinking, not pushing or pulling yet, just clutching at the strands like an anchor as your thighs trembled around him

you bit down hard on your lower lip trying to stay quiet… but another soft cry escaped anyway:

"romy..."

the second his name left your lips like that, small, broken, needy, roman froze for half a heartbeat.

just long enough to notice.

then he came back harder.

his mouth clamped down again with more hunger this time: lips sealing tight while his tongue swirled fast in tight circles right over your clit without mercy

you gasped louder now, fingers tightening in his hair as pleasure spiked through you sharply

another whimper tumbled out, higher pitched this time:

"oh god—"

your hips bucked upward again involuntarily chasing the feeling and instinctively trying to press deeper into him

one second his mouth was on you, hot, wet kisses and teasing flicks, and the next, two fingers were sliding into you slowly, carefully, stretching gently as they pushed in deeper.

they weren’t rushed.

not forceful.

just there, curling slightly inside to test your warmth, your readiness, while his thumb brushed over your clit in lazy circles above where his other hand worked below

the dual sensation hit hard: the pressure of fingers filling you just right mixed with the soft suck-and-lick combo from roman’s mouth

and suddenly everything felt overwhelming, too much pleasure building all at once after weeks of emotional distance and physical absence between them two.

but he wasn't stopping.

if anything? he seemed to love how responsive you were already.

roman’s voice was a husky murmur against your skin, low and thick with awe as he spoke for the first time since starting.

"fuck, angel. you’re so tight around my fingers."

the words came out rough, almost reverent, like he’d forgotten how it felt to be this close to you physically. like every little clench of your muscles around his fingers sent sparks through him.

and then?

he moved.

his thumb kept circling slow but firm on your clit while two fingers curled deeper inside, not thrusting yet, just gently pumping in and out at a steady rhythm that matched the teasing licks of his tongue.

but now there was more intention behind each motion: testing what made you gasp louder, what angle had you squirming most under him

because roman wasn't just doing this anymore.

he was studying every reaction. memorizing them.

learning all over again how to make you feel good

roman’s voice was like gravel, thick and warm against your skin every time he spoke between kisses.

"god… you feel so fucking good," he muttered, his lips brushing your inner thigh before dragging another slow kiss higher.

then, without stopping the rhythm of his fingers:

"missed this… missed you like this."

no teasing smirk. no sarcasm. just raw honesty spilling out in hushed tones because right now? He wasn’t holding back anything, not emotions, not praise

his thumb swiped over your clit deliberately as he added:

"so perfect, always been so damn perfect for me."*

and then lower, almost a growl, when you clenched around him again:

"fuck... squeeze my fingers just like that."

each word dripped with affection and hunger mixed together, roman talking dirty to you in that soft but intense way only he could pull off.

you gasped, your breath coming in shallow little pants as roman’s fingers kept moving curling just right inside you while his thumb worked magic on your clit.

then, without thinking, without overanalyzing

"roman—i- i need more,"

you whimpered out suddenly.

Not a demand. not even fully coherent.

just need. raw and aching after weeks of nothing but coldness between them two.

tour hips lifted slightly off the bed instinctively, chasing his touch harder now like if he gave you even an inch more pressure it would unravel everything at once.

because god he was driving you crazy with how good this felt

the metallic clink of roman’s belt buckle echoed quietly in the room as his free hand, still working you gently with fingers and thumb, reached up to undo it.

no rush. no frantic stripping.

just methodical

like he was preparing something.

his pants loosened, then the button popped open, zipper sliding down slowly while his other hand stayed focused on your pleasure, thumb circling, fingers pumping at that perfect angle that had you trembling

and when he finally pushed both jeans and boxers down just enough?

you didn’t see yet, but you felt it.

the shift in heat. the weight of him adjusting between your.

roman wasn't stopping what he was doing to you, not even close.

but now? now there were options.

roman stood in one smooth motion, tall, broad-shouldered, and fully hard.

the second he looked down at you , sprawled on the bed with flushed skin and kiss-swollen lips from his mouth, his expression darkened.

not angry.

no. worse than that.

hungry

and when he gripped your hips, hard, fingers pressing into soft flesh like a claim, his voice came out rougher than before:

"you look so fucking good like this,"

he growled low.

"all messed up because of me."

then another squeeze as he yanked you closer to the edge of the bed by your waist:

"gonna ruin you properly now."

no sweet talk anymore.

just dominance laced with lust, roman taking control after weeks of emotional distance, finally letting himself want what was always his.

you swallowed hard and nodded

roman’s eyes burned into yours, dark, intense, hungry, as you swallowed hard and nodded.

that silent agreement was all the permission he needed

in one swift motion, he hooked his hands under your thighs and pulled you to the very edge of the bed until your hips were flush with him. no space left between them no, just heat meeting heat.

then without another word, because why talk when actions spoke louder? roman grabbed himself at the base with one hand

a thick vein pulsed along his length.

precum glistened at his tip.

he guided himself right where both of you wanted him most.

no teasing this time.

no slow build-up after weeks apart like before

just pure need taking over as roman finally pressed forward

roman’s grip on your hips tightened, painfully, as he leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear.

"you’ve been such a good little slut for me,"

he muttered darkly, voice dripping with condescension and lust.

no sweetness left now. just pure use.

"all wet and desperate just from my fingers? pathetic."

a sharp slap landed on your inner thigh, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to sting. a reminder: i own this moment.

then he shoved into you in one rough thrust, no gentleness, because right now? Roman wasn't being tender or romantic, he was taking what he'd been denied for weeks...

and as his cock stretched you fully? That same cruel tone dropped again:

"fuck… tight like always… my perfect little whore..."

the moment he was fully seated inside you, roman let out a ragged groan, half pleasure, half possession.

but it didn’t last long before that edge returned.

he pulled almost all the way out, then slammed back in with deliberate force, setting a punishing pace right from the start. no slow love-making. this wasn’t about intimacy anymore, this was claiming.

"you missed this,"

he sneered through gritted teeth as his hips snapped forward again and again.

"missed being fucked like mine."

one hand pinned your wrist above your head while the other gripped your waist hard, fingers leaving marks you'd feel later, as he used every inch of himself to remind you exactly who owned this body.

and when his thumb found your clit mid-thrust? It wasn't gentle either, just rough circles meant to push you toward orgasm fast. because Roman wanted control over that, too.

your breath came in short, sharp gasps, each thrust from roman knocking the air out of your lungs.

and despite the degrading words, despite how roughly he was taking you

you couldn’t stay silent.

"roman—!"

the cry tore out of you when his thumb pressed harder on your clit, sparks shooting through every nerve.

then another:

"oh my god—!" louder this time, desperate and uncontrolled as pleasure crested fast under his relentless rhythm.

no clever comebacks. no pass.

just raw need spilling out between moans because fuck, he was hitting that spot inside with every deep drive.

and when he leaned down to bite at your collarbone while pounding into you? you whimpered something broken:

"please—i’m gonna… i’m gonna cum..."

begging without even meaning to.

roman heard it.

the broken please the shaky warning that you were close, and his lips curled into a smirk against your skin.

he didn’t slow down.

didn’t soften.

If anything, he got meaner.

"not yet," he growled, biting down harder on your shoulder as his hips snapped forward even faster, brutal precision now aimed at edging you right to the brink but not letting you tip over

his thumb stopped circling and just pressed flat against your clit instead: firm pressure without movement, teasing torture while roman kept fucking into you with deep, punishing thrusts meant to wind every coil tighter.

and when another whine escaped? that desperate sound of someone hanging on by a thread?

he laughed low in his throat, dark amusement laced with dominance, because this was exactly where he wanted you

the tension inside you was unbearable.

roman had you right on the edge, so close to orgasm that your whole body trembled with it, but he wasn’t letting go. not yet.

and when he saw how desperate you looked, lips parted, eyes glassy, thighs shaking around his waist, he leaned down and whispered in your ear:

"you don't get to cum until i say so."

then his mouth crashed onto yours, not a sweet kiss, but a claiming one: messy teeth and tongue as his hips never stopped their ruthless pace...

every thrust drove the pleasure higher…

every second stretched out the torture longer…

and Roman? he was loving every second of watching you unravel under him without release...

your lips were still wet from his kiss when another desperate whine slipped out, high and trembling.

"roman, please—"

you barely recognized your own voice. It was shaky, pleading, begging, like you’d never begged for anything in your life.

tears pricked the corners of your eyes not from sadness but from sheer overstimulation, every nerve lit up with pleasure that had nowhere to go because he wouldn’t let you come…

and then it spilled:

"i can't—i can't take it anymore! please let me cum!"

the words tumbled out in a frantic rush as tears finally escaped, trailing down your temples into the pillow beneath.

you weren’t even thinking about pride or dignity right now, just pure need for release after being edged so cruelly by the man who owned this moment completely.

roman didn’t soften.

didn’t comfort.

he laughed.

a cold, low chuckle that vibrated through his chest as he watched tears roll down your face, not from pain, but from how badly you needed to come and being denied.

"cry all you want,"

he mocked, voice dripping with cruel amusement.

then he deliberately slowed his thrusts, just shallow little movements now, so the friction stayed maddening without relief…

his free hand suddenly grabbed a fistful of your hair at the roots and yanked your head back slightly, exposing your throat as he leaned down to sneer in it:

"you’re such a pathetic mess right now… can't even handle getting fucked unless I let you cum."

no affection.

no warmth.

just Roman using every degrading word possible because this wasn't about love or romance anymore, it was about power... and reminding both of them who controlled what happened next.

the pain in your scalp from his grip mixed with the unbearable pleasure still building low in your belly, a torturous combo.

and Roman? he reveled in it.

"look at you," he taunted, voice icy and sharp as glass.

"my little slut crying because she’s too weak to last without permission."

he released your hair only to slap your cheek lightly, once, more shock than sting, but the humiliation burned worse than any physical pain…

then he sped up again abruptly, slamming into you hard enough that the bed slammed against the wall with each thrust, but still no mercy. no letting go…

his hand clamped around both of yours above your head now, pinning them there while his hips pistoned forward like a machine programmed only for one goal:

to break you further...

the rhythmic thud of the bed hitting the wall echoed through the quiet apartment, each impact timed with roman’s brutal thrusts.

and still, still, he refused to let you tip over.

his lips curled as he watched your face twist in frustrated pleasure, tears now freely streaming down your flushed cheeks. You were shaking all over, completely at his mercy

"you wanna cum?"

he asked it like a joke, voice mocking and high-pitched on purpose to twist the knife.

then without waiting for an answer (not that he cared), roman suddenly pulled out entirely, leaving you empty and aching, just so he could flip you onto your stomach in one rough motion.

no warning.

no gentleness.

just dominance taking whatever position suited him best.

you lifted up onto all fours and pushed your ass into him

roman didn’t hesitate.

the second you were on all fours ass up, back arched instinctively, he grabbed your hips again with that same iron grip and yanked you backward toward him.

no foreplay.

no teasing buildup.

just his cock slamming back into you in one harsh motion, deeper than before because of the new angle, filling every inch of space without room to breathe.

and then came his voice again, dark and mocking right above the sound of skin hitting skin:

"that’s it… take it like a good little whore,"

he growled through clenched teeth as he started pounding into you from behind, hard enough that each thrust made your whole body jolt forward slightly.

his hands dug into your flesh possessively, marking what was his while roman used this position to go even rougher than before.

roman set a relentless pace, each snap of his hips brutal, unforgiving. the sound of skin slapping echoed through the room, mixed with your muffled whimpers into the sheets.

and he loved it.

loved how you looked like this, completely at his mercy, taking every rough thrust without protest because even in tears and desperation, you weren’t fighting him.

"fucking perfect,"

he spat out between heavy breaths, voice thick with lust and control, as one hand slid around to grab your throat from behind, not squeezing, just holding. a claim. a reminder: i own this.

then his other hand came down on your ass, a sharp, smack, that stung for half a second before turning into heat

no sweet words now.

just Roman using dominance as foreplay, degrading you while fucking you senseless.

you couldn’t stay silent anymore.

the combination of Roman’s iron grip on your throat, the sharp sting of his handprint blooming on your ass, and that relentless pounding from behind, each thrust hitting that spot inside you, shattered whatever was left of your composure.

"roman—i can't—i'm gonna cum!"

you sobbed it out loud this time, voice cracking with desperation.

no permission asked.

no begging for mercy.

just a raw announcement that you were seconds away

and then another cry tore through you as he hit deep again:

"pleasepleasepleaseletmecum!!"

it wasn't even coherent, just one word repeated over and over like a prayer to him, because right now? your orgasm depended entirely on whether he decided to let it happen or not.

roman didn’t answer.

not with words.

instead, he did something worse, better in his mind.

he finally let you come, but not gently. not sweetly.

he crushed your clit between two fingers just as another deep thrust hit that perfect angle inside you… and then leaned down to bite the back of your neck hard while growling:

“cum."

one word.

a command.

not a request.

and like flipping a switch, your body obeyed, muscles clamping around him as the orgasm ripped through you violently: uncontrollable tremors, gasping sobs muffled into the mattress, pleasure so intense it almost hurt because roman had edged you for so long

All while still fucking into you without slowing letting his own release build now that yours was crashing over everything.

roman didn’t stop.

even as your orgasm wracked through you, your body clenching around him in waves, trembling from the intensity of it, he kept moving.

hips pistoning.

thrusts deep and rough.

not gentle aftercare. just pure taking what he wanted now that you were utterly pliant under him

and when his own climax finally hit?

there was no warning. no slowdown.

one second he was pounding into you, the next, his breath hitched sharply, muscles locking up as pleasure spiked hard, and then roman came inside of you.

a hot rush filled you completely while he stayed buried to the hilt, grinding forward once or twice more to milk every last drop out before collapsing slightly over your back, still breathing heavy but silent otherwise.

the second roman’s weight lifted slightly off you, your body went limp.

every muscle melted into the mattress exhausted, oversensitive, and still tingling from the aftershocks of your orgasm. the cool sheets felt good against your flushed skin as you slowly sank deeper into them

mo dramatic cuddling.

no sweet post-sex whispers.

just quiet.

roman rolled onto his back beside you with a soft grunt, one arm thrown over his eyes like he was blocking out light or just processing everything that had happened between coldness weeks ago to this

silence stretched.

not awkward exactly

but not tender either.

more like two people catching their breath after an intense release, emotionally tangled but too drained for words yet.

the shift was quiet.

one moment roman lay still beside you, the next, his arm slid around your waist, gentle this time. not possessive or rough like before… but careful.

and then came the kisses.

soft.

sweet.

repeated over and over again, featherlight pecks all across your face: your forehead, eyelids, cheeks, even the tip of your nose.

no degrading words now.

no dominance.

just tenderness pouring out of him in every tiny kiss he placed on you like an apology without saying it.

his fingers brushed a strand of hair from your cheek as he kept pulling you closer until you were tucked fully against his chest, skin to skin warmth replacing earlier intensity with something softer, quieter, more intimate than sex ever could be right now.. roman’s voice was quiet, softer than you’d heard it in weeks when he finally spoke.

and the words?

they hit your heart like sunlight breaking through clouds after days of gray.

"i love you so much, babygirl..."

just babygirl sweet and affectionate, laced with something tender that made your chest tighten…

he kissed your forehead again as soon as the sentence left his lips… then another on each eyelid… slow and lingering now, like every touch was meant to rebuild everything they'd lost during their cold spell...

one hand cradled the back of your head while his other traced lazy circles on your bare shoulder, no rush to move or do anything else…

Just holding you.

loving you.

whispering those three little words over and over without getting tired.

roman’s voice was warm, gentle in a way that still felt new after days of distance, as he suggested cleaning up.

"let's go get you cleaned up, angel,"

he murmured, pressing one last kiss to your temple before carefully shifting both of you to sit up on the edge of the bed.

he didn’t let go though.

nope.

one strong arm stayed wrapped around your shoulders as he stood with you, keeping close like he couldn’t bear even an inch apart right now

then roman guided you toward the bathroom, bare feet padding softly against hardwood floors, reaching for a warm washcloth and running it under water first

everything about his movements now? careful.

nurturing.

like taking care of something precious… because he loved you more than anything

his angel.

___________________ ꒰ঌ ໒꒱ ___________________

@ y/nonprobation posted!!

y/nonprobation: stupid boy 🩵

liked by rommulas, mazzyjoya, vanillamace, quenblackwell, 2hollis, and 312k others.

❤︎⁠ 312k 💬 30k

rommulas: i’m not stupid (❤️ by creator)

╰┈➤ y/nonprobation: yes u r.

rommulascontent: crazy side eye from roman

╰┈➤ y/nonprobation: he’s trying to ignore me

mazzyjoya: that should be me. (❤️ by creator)

╰┈➤ y/nonprobation: i was thinking about u the whole time

╰┈➤ rommulas: (to y/nonprobation) i knew it

vanillamace: he likes uu soooo bad (❤️ by creator)

╰┈➤ rommulas: stop.

╰┈➤ y/nonprobation: (to vanillamace) he does 🥹😸

quenblackwell: ouuuu shi (❤️ by creator)

╰┈➤ y/nonprobation: 😼 fym ouu shi

user828782: #freeroman

╰┈➤ rommulas: (to user828782) oh i’m okay

╰┈➤ y/nonprobation: (to rommulas) blink twice if you need help

rommulas: she bullies me every day. (❤️ by creator)

╰┈➤ y/nonprobation: character development.

y/nhater6969: this is giving mother son duo

╰┈➤ rommulas: (to y/nhater6969) i call her mommy so.

╰┈➤ y/nonprobation: (to rommulas) BRO CHILLLL

30k more.

————————————

hey lol.. i didn’t know how to end this so i kinda just kept going

wtv!!

sappy loves you

❕❕❕❕❕❕❕❕❕❕❕❕❕❕❕❕❕

COMMENT 4 TAGS!!!

2𝒽ℴ𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓈 𝓍 𝒹ℯ𝓂𝓂𝒶 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇

𝓉ℯ𝓍𝓉 𝒻𝒾𝒸

𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉ℯ𝓇 1

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

antihumanform posted a story!

y/n.demma posted a story!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Yay chapter one

Yb Comment 4 tags

tattoo artist rommulas x bsf!reader

❕cw ❕unprotected sex, backshots, oral (f receiving) aftercare

a/n - it’s 4 fucking am. i don’t know when to fucking stop

wtv hope you guys enjoy

the shop always smelled like green soap, black ink, and cigarettes.

not because anyone actually smoked inside anymore.

roman just carried the smell around with him.

you’d been sitting in the cracked leather chair by the front counter for almost an hour, legs crossed. one of the springs in the chair squeaked whenever you shifted as you lazily flipped through one of roman’s sketchbooks he always left lying around.

page after page.

animals, rendered with delicate precision.

landscapes, bleeding with memories of trips you’d taken together.

your profile drawn mid-laugh during that summer barbecue when you’d spilled soda down your shirt. your eyes captured perfectly beneath a dim streetlight at two in the morning outside a gas station. even just your hand wrapped around a coffee cup on some random tuesday morning he’d apparently memorized without ever saying a word.

then came cars, always muscle cars.

wildflowers pressed carefully between paper-thin sheets.

guns.

then you again.

this time sleeping, curled up on his couch last winter beneath three blankets because he kept turning the thermostat down “for art reasons.”

you just snorted, trying not to think too hard about how he knew where every freckle sat across your face.

or how he somehow remembered the exact way your nose crinkled whenever you laughed.

still flipping through the sketchbook, you found yourself reading all the little notes he’d scribbled in the margins.

one page simply read:

don’t text your ex.

underneath it, in different handwriting:

call angel.

you bit your lip.

he always called you that.

even when he was mad because you’d scared him.

even when he’d driven all the way to your apartment just to hug you after having a bad day.

roman’s voice drifted from the back room.

you snapped back into reality.

“hey, angel… whatcha doing?”

he stepped through the curtain, wiping black ink from his gloves.

you looked over at him, taking in his features.

his hair was pulled into a messy bun.

his shirt hung half unbuttoned.

his jeans rested low on his hips.

fuck.

he was your best friend, for christ’s sake.

why did you care what he looked like?

why did it make you so flustered that he’d drawn you so many times?

“looking through your sketches.”

you answered while still staring at him with wide, curious eyes.

“how long you been here?”

his gaze swept over you once.

“uhhh…” you glanced down at your phone. “about an hour or so…?”

roman’s eyes widened.

“an hour? angel, why didn’t you come say hi?” he smiled that stupid crooked smile he’d had since he was sixteen.

you shrugged, suddenly feeling like a scolded puppy.

“i was just waiting till you could do my tattoo” you smiled

roman's smile softened, that quiet warmth he only ever showed you lighting up his whole face. he took a step closer, still wiping ink off his fingers onto the hem of his shirt, like he always did.

"your tattoo," he repeated, voice low and teasing. "right. you're getting one today."

he leaned against the counter beside you, close enough that your shoulders almost touched his biceps.

you swallowed hard, fuck.

the shop clock ticked softly behind him, a metronome counting down to something neither of you were naming yet.

his eyes flicked back to the sketchbook in your lap, the page open with you asleep on his couch, and for half a second? his expression did this thing. Like guilt wrapped in tenderness wrapped in something too fragile to name.

then it was gone.

"alright angel," roman said suddenly, pushing upright again with sudden energy; the kind artists get when they’re about to create something important. "c'mon back."

you followed roman into the back part of the store into his personal little studio that had a nice chair and didn’t smell like cigarettes

“take your shirt off.” he says setting up the tattoo station

the studio was quiet, bathed in soft amber light from the desk lamp roman always used, warm and focused, like a spotlight on something sacred.

you peeled off your oversized band tee without hesitation. it slid down your arms easily, revealing smooth skin dotted with old freckles and the faint outline of a shoulder strap tan line.

roman didn’t look right away, not immediately. he busied himself sterilizing tools: wiping surfaces with alcohol swabs, adjusting his machine’s settings. his back was to you as he worked, his messy bun slightly loosened now, and for a second it felt almost normal.

then he turned around.

and stopped.

just... stopped breathing for half a beat too long when his eyes landed on you standing there in just your bra and low-rise jeans, the dim light catching every curve like it had been painted just to highlight you today specifically somehow, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you naked before,

i mean you two were bathed together when you were little

and he’s seen you in a bikini plenty of times.

so why was this different

his jaw flexed once before he cleared his throat quietly

“uh your.. uh.. your bra too.”

you nodded and unhooked the clasp on your back, sliding the lacy fabric down your shoulders.

roman watched every move you made,

how your hands moved, how you slid the fabric down trusting him go see you bare and naked.

he swallowed when your bra fell into your hands

he stared at your boobs for about 15 seconds before he realized he zoned out

the silence stretched, thick and electric, like the air before a storm. roman’s breath hitched again. just slightly. a tiny crack in his usual cool demeanor.

he wasn’t looking away fast enough, not to be polite, not to play it casual, but he wasn’t staring either. it was somewhere in between: frozen awareness, the kind where your brain short-circuits because holy shit she’s real, and this is happening right now.

you stood there completely bare from the waist up, skin pale with that one freckle just above your collarbone you always forgot about and roman?

roman suddenly remembered how much he liked drawing you last winter when you were asleep on his couch wrapped in blankets… but now seeing it all live?

it punched him right through every defense he ever built around affection that didn't come with words or explanations.

his fingers twitched at his sides as if unsure what they were supposed to do first: reach for gloves? adjust lighting? or maybe just... touch? but then reality snapped back into place, the professional artist mode kicking in like armor

you laid down in the chair pressing your front against the cold thin fabric that covered the leather chair, the cold hit your skin instantly, sharp and startling after the warmth of being clothed. you exhaled through your nose, shifting slightly as the thin fabric clung to your bare stomach.

roman finally moved.

he grabbed a folded black towel from the counter and gently draped it over you, not all the way covering you, just enough so that only his hands would touch exposed skin during prep. a small boundary. a quiet gesture of care.

the second you lifted your arms to tie your hair up, the towel slipped slightly, just enough for a sliver of bare skin to show along your side.

roman froze mid-reach, stencil paper crumpled in his gloved hand,

his cock hardened his jeans.

his breath caught again, harder this time, and suddenly all that careful professionalism? gone. shattered like glass underfoot.

in one swift motion, he pulled his gloves off and dropped the paper onto the table and closed the distance between you two before either of you could think about it twice.

he crouched beside the chair first, not kissing yet, but cupping your face with one warm hand as if asking permission without words

“stand up and turn around.” he said with a low stern voice

your pulse jumped at the command, low, steady, different, not angry or bossy like how he’d talk to clients who complained about pricing. this was roman, but a version of him you'd never really seen before.

you hesitated for only a heartbeat before sliding off the chair. the towel dropped completely as you turned around.

the studio air felt charged now, thick with something unspoken that had been building quietly between sketchbook pages and shared late-night drives home from diners

roman stood slowly behind you, close enough that his body heat reached your bare back

then his hands were on your hips, firm and careful, he guided you forward gently until both palms rested flat against the cool leather table. roman’s hands slid up your sides, slow, deliberate,

fingers tracing the curve of your ribs, the dip of your waist.

he didn’t speak again. didn’t need to.

every touch was quiet but loud in meaning, the way his thumbs brushed over old scars you never talked about, how one hand came around to rest just beneath your breast without pressure… like he was memorizing you by feel this time instead of through sketches, his hips grinding into your ass

then his lips found the back of your neck, a soft kiss first. just a whisper against skin.

another at the base where hair met shoulder

and then another lower, down along that sensitive spot between spine and muscle, and suddenly it wasn't just affection anymore

you shudder under his touch,

“r-roman? w-what are you doing?”

your voice came out breathless,

smaller than usual, like you’d forgotten how to speak in full sentences.

roman didn’t answer right away.

instead, he pressed another kiss, this time slower, more intentional, right where your neck met your shoulder. a spot that always made you shiver when anyone brushed it… and he knew. he knew things about you without ever being told

then his hands tightened slightly on your waist before sliding around front

one arm wrapped low across your stomach not pulling yet,but holding. Possessive? no… not quite. protective maybe? like he was anchoring himself to something real

and then his lips found the shell of your ear

“do you trust me angel?”

his voice was a whisper, rough, warm, trembling just slightly at the edges like he wasn’t as steady as he wanted to seem.

you nodded.

the quiet click of the button popping open echoed in the small studio.

roman’s fingers moved carefully, slow, like he was giving you every chance to say stop. to pull away. to laugh it off and go back to being just friends who tattoo each other and share fries after midnight

but you didn’t move.

you stayed still, heart hammering so loud you were sure he could hear it, and when his hands hooked into the waistband of your jeans, easing them down over your hips with deliberate gentleness…

a shiver ran through your whole body

not from cold

from this, from Roman touching you like this for real now instead of just drawing how soft your skin looked in lamplight

the sound of his belt clinking against the metal table leg broke the silence, soft, metallic.

roman didn’t rush. he kicked off his boots first, then shed everything else in one smooth motion, jeans pooling at his ankles, boxers following with quiet vulnerability

he pulled your panties down the a rough yank, he was trying to go slow but the way your ass hit the head of his cock made him groan

the groan ripped out of him, raw, involuntary, like he hadn’t meant to make a sound at all.

it was heat, it was pressure. the sudden contact sending electric shocks straight through his nerves because you were bare now too, and your skin against his…

roman’s hands flew back to your hips instantly, gripping hard, holding like you might vanish if he didn’t anchor himself

“come on angel, bend over, i wanna fuck you from the back”

his voice was low, urgent, and needy, it sent a jolt straight through you.

it wasn’t the roman who sketched quietly or argued about art theory. this his was a different version: rough at the edges, breathing unevenly like he’d been holding his breath for years

you obeyed without hesitation, turning fully toward the table now and bending forward slowly until your tits pressed into cool leather

the position exposed everything, the curve of your back, how perfectly round your ass looked under dim light, and before you could even steady yourself…

roman pushed into her with a hard thrust, it was deep, unrelenting and sudden, like he’d been waiting forever and couldn’t stand another second of not being inside you.

a gasp tore from your lips, not pain, but surprise, the stretch overwhelming in its intensity because roman wasn't small, the way your pussy clenched around him, tight, hot, perfect, made roman’s breath hitch in his throat.

a guttural sound escaped him this time, not quite a groan, not quite a curse, just pure animal reaction as his hips jerked forward on instinct

he didn’t pull out. didn’t slow down.

instead? he pushed deeper with another hard thrust, the chair creaking slightly beneath you both, and one of his hands slid up your spine before fisting gently into the hair at the nape of your neck

he pulled hard to make you moan

he said “i wanna hear you angel, i wanna hear everything i make you feel while im pounding into this tiny pussy”

the sharp tug on your hair arched your back perfectly, exposing every curve, tilting your head just right so his lips could find the sensitive spot behind your ear

and then he pounded.

no more hesitation. no softness now, just raw need unleashed after years of pretending this wasn’t simmering between sketchbook pages and late-night drives home

each thrust was deep, deliberate, his hips snapping forward with controlled force, and when you moaned? high-pitched and breathy like it slipped out without permission?

roman’s grip tightened in satisfaction

“again,” he growled against the shell of your ear. “louder.”

your moans came easier after that, spilling out in little gasps and broken whimpers with every hard thrust, because roman wasn’t playing nice.

when the next moan slipped free, a soft, desperate "oh god" he rewarded it by biting gently at your shoulder before driving into you even harder

roman’s other hand slid down from your hip to where your bodies joined, his thumb finding that sensitive bundle of nerves through slick heat

you gasped hard

“ro-roman, fuck, roman please”

the way you said his name broken, pleading, sent a shockwave straight through him.

roman’s thumb pressed firmer against your clit, rubbing slow circles at first, testing how sensitive you were, and when your whole body jerked and another gasp tore out of you?

he smiled wide

mean, cocky

so his thumb got bolder, faster circles now, firm and relentless,as his thrusts picked up pace

“you gonne come angel? you want me to let you come?” his voice came out rough and hard

you nodded fast

“please ro-roman, pl-please..”

The *please* shattered whatever last thread of control Roman had left.

his voice went dominant in a way you’d never heard before, all gravel and heat, and he didn’t make you beg twice

“come then,” he ordered, low and commanding right against your ear. “right now.”

and just like that, his thumb pressed down harder on your clit while his hips snapped forward with punishing force

no buildup. no warning.

just release.

your orgasm crashed over you instantly

a white-hot wave tearing through every nerve, and the sound? a choked cry mixed with his name as your body clenched around him wildly

roman didn’t pause.

the second your orgasm hit, he moved strong arms spinning you around before lifting you onto the chair like it weighed nothing

then he was on his knees in front of you, fast, hungry, and without hesitation, his mouth found your center

his tongue dragged through slick heat with a slow precision that made your back arch off the seat. no teasing at first. just pure devotion, licking deep and thorough like this was something sacred

meanwhile?

his hand wrapped around his own cock, the thick length still glistening from being inside you, and started pumping slowly… matching each stroke to another long swipe of his tongue

roman’s mouth was relentless, hot, wet, perfect, and the contrast between his soft tongue and your oversensitive nerves made every lick send jolts up your spine

you gripped his hair tight, not pushing, just holding, as if you needed an anchor in a world that had suddenly tilted

and god… he looked good like this. on his knees for you, eyes half-lidded with desire but focused only on pleasuring you further even though he was hard as steel and stroking himself slowly beside it all

his thumb brushed over the head of his cock absently, teasing more than anything, and when a low groan rumbled from him through where he still had lips sealed to your skin?

the vibration from his groan traveled straight through you, electric, and your thighs tensed around his head instinctively

roman didn’t pull back though.

no, he doubled down, sucking gently now where he’d just licked, before swirling his tongue in slow circles over that hypersensitive bundle of nerves

his free hand slid up your thigh, the one draped over his shoulder, and squeezed lightly. a grounding touch.

his other hand worked himself faster now, not desperate, but with increasing urgency like the taste and feel of you was driving him wild too

the room filled with quiet sounds, your shaky breathing, the slick noise of his mouth on you, the soft slap of his hand jerking himself off

roman was lost in it.

completely gone. All artist focus turned into pure, need, for your taste, for your reactions, for how tight and warm you’d been around him moments ago

he sucked hard on your clit and the second he sucked your entire body locked up

“fuck! roman ro, please im gonna come”

it was too much. too good. the orgasm you’d just had barely minutes ago still humming through your nerves, and now this? roman’s mouth on you like that?

you screamed his name, half-sob, half-moan, and your hips jerked forward off the chair

he held your clit between his lips and kept sucking, relentless as a storm, while two fingers suddenly slipped inside you without warning

and then? he curled them

the moment his fingers curled inside you, just right, hitting that spot, your vision whited out

a second orgasm ripped through you like lightning, fiercer than the first because it was unexpected and roman caused it

your back arched violently off the chair as your thighs clamped around his head, but he didn’t stopnot even when a broken sob tore from your throat

he kept sucking. kept curling those fingers.

pushing you higher. deeper. overwhelming every sense until all you could do was gasp and tremble under him

roman only stopped when he felt your body go completely limp,the kind of exhaustion that comes after being wrecked by pleasure

he slowly pulled his fingers out, then lifted his head to look at you

your chest rose and fell rapidly. your eyes were glassy. hair a mess from gripping it. lips parted. roman pressed one soft kiss to your inner thigh, gentle this time. before standing up fully again

his cock was still hard as ever though… throbbing with need after all that teasing himself while focusing on you

roman’s jaw clenched as he looked down at you, completely undone, breathless, his.

he was still painfully hard. the blood rushing south hadn’t cooled one bit, if anything, watching you come apart like that made him needier

but instead of climbing back on top right away…

he grabbed a clean rag from the counter and dampened it with water before kneeling again not to touch himself or demand anything but to gently wipe your thighs.

tender in a way only roman could be after being so rough

then he kissed your forehead softly

“you okay angel?”

he tucked his dick back into his boxers, completely ignoring his needs to take care of you

you nodded with heavy eyes

“i’ll be okay romey”

he kissed your forehead, and pulled your panties back up your legs

“you just lay there and i’ll get started on your tattoo okay? i’ll go slow”

he gave you a slow kiss on the lips

you laid back down on your stomach, closing your eyes for a few minutes before roman starts on your tattoo.

he whispers into your ear constantly

“i love you angel”

“you’re okay”

“you’re so pretty”

it felt right letting your bestfriend, take care of you.

___________________ ꒰ঌ ໒꒱ ___________________

@ y/nonprobation posted!!

𝄞 -wet dreams by artemas- 𝄞

y/nonprobation: roman gave me a tattoo ᥫ᭡

liked by rommulas, mazzyjoya, vanillamace, quenblackwell, 2hollis, and 289k others.

♥︎289k 💬 30k

rommulas: hi angel (❤️ by creator)

╰┈➤ y/nonprobation: hi lol

user235: holy gorgeous (❤️ by creator)

rommulasupdates: roman looks so joyful 😭

╰┈➤ y/nonprobation: he looks like the gay little monkey at the apple store 🩵🩵

vanillamace: oh wesley i’m drippin 🤤 (❤️ by creator)

╰┈➤ y/nonprobation: 😭😭😭😭😭 i love u

mazzyjoya: UGGGHHHHH LOOK AT MY GORGEOUS ANGEL (❤️ by creator)

╰┈➤ y/nonprobation: MY BABYYYY MAZZY

2hollis: bro what is that picture of roman 😭😭😭😭😭

╰┈➤ y/nonprobation : 🤫🤫🧏‍♀️🧏‍♀️

╰┈➤ rommulas: she’s trying to make me look like a chud

╰┈➤ y/nonprobation: (to rommulas) bru i don’t gotta try

user368: this bitch pick me as hell

╰┈➤ y/nonprobation: and i’m proud

user5875: roman is too good for u

╰┈➤ y/nonprobation: lol who gon tell her… 😂

30k other comments.

—————————————

i hope you guys enjoyed

comment 4 tags!!!!

sappy loves you.

rommulas x fem makeup artist

❕cw❕fingers in mouth, fingering, pnv, unprotected sex, little bit of choking, degrading, roman kinda being an ass hole.

i think that’s all

let me know if i missed anything!!

(a/n- i wrote this in like and hour so please don’t mind if my spelling is bad)

have fun!

the vanity was always too bright.

rows of bulbs framed the mirror, bleaching the room in warm white light until every flaw, every crease, every imperfection had nowhere to hide. it was your favorite place on set.

it was also where roman spent most of his mornings. being roman leal’s makeup artist was weird.

not because he was difficult. he wasn’t.

it was the way he’d stare at your tits or hold onto the backs of your thighs.

but he sat still, listened when you asked him to tilt his chin, never complained when you accidentally tugged at his curls.

it was weird because he looked at you.

constantly.

you felt it before you saw it.

the weight of his eyes while you unpacked your kit, arranging brushes into neat rows. while you leaned over the counter searching for the right shade of concealer. while you crossed the room to grab another palette.

every glance lingered just a second too long.

like he wasn’t trying to hide it.

“you done staring?”

the words slipped out before you could stop them.

roman looked up from the chair, completely unfazed.

“i wasn’t.”

“you literally were.” you scoffed out.

he shrugged.

“i like watching people work.”

you rolled your eyes, twisting open a bottle of primer.

“sure.”

he smiled to himself.

“you don’t believe me.”

“obviously not, you’re staring at my tits.”

you stepped between his knees, one hand lightly resting beneath his jaw to steady him.

“chin up.”

he obeyed immediately.

the room fell quiet except for the soft tap of your sponge against his skin. you focused on blending foundation along his cheekbones, pretending you couldn’t feel his gaze wondering over your body again.

“you always get this close?” he asked.

“i’d be pretty bad at my job if i didn’t.”

“hm.” he smirked.

“what?”

“nothing.”

you sighed.

“roman.”

“i just never realized your eyes change color.”

your hand stopped.

“…what?”

“in here.” he gestured vaguely toward the mirror. “sometimes they’re light. sometimes they’re dark.”

heat crept into your face. “you notice weird things.” you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“i notice everything.”

you laughed under your breath.

“that’s concerning.”

“for you or for me?”

“for everyone.”

his grin widened.

the next twenty minutes passed in comfortable silence.

concealer.

powder.

contour.

you brushed bronzer across his temples before stepping back to inspect your work.

“look at me.”

he did.

“no.” you shook your head with a smile. “not me. the mirror.”

“i know what i look like.”

“i need you to—”

“i’d rather look at you.”

you blinked.

the words landed so casually that they almost sounded accidental.

almost.

your brush paused midair.

“you say that to all your makeup artists?”

“no.”

“models?”

“no.”

“anyone?”

he held your gaze in the reflection.

“no.”

the trailer suddenly felt much smaller.

you cleared your throat, pretending to fuss over a nonexistent flaw near his eyebrow.

“you’ve got vanity shots in ten.”

“i know.”

“so stop making my job harder.”

“i think i’m making it more interesting.” his sharp nails ran up the side of your thigh.

you couldn’t help the smile that escaped.

“you are unbelievably full of yourself.”

roman finally looked into the mirror.

“i thought that was why you were here.”

you laughed, shaking your head as you reached for the setting spray.

“the vanity,” you muttered.

“what about it?”

“it clearly isn’t the biggest one in this room.”

his laugh echoed off the bulbs, warm enough that, for the first time all morning, you forgot about the lights altogether.

“i know it’s not.” he smirks

“but it’s easiest to put someone on.”

you huff out a laugh

“what does that even mean, roman?”

he looks up at you with those big, beautiful, brown eyes.

“i think you know exactly what i mean, mami.”

you heavy sigh

“no i really don’t, i’m trying to do my job here”

“so stop wiggling, would you?”

his big hands gripped your ass

“come on mami, you know you like me.”

you swallow hard, you can’t help the feeling that started to bubble against your core.

“roman i said stop moving.”

roman’s hands slide up under your shirt.

“yes ma’am.” he smirks.

you try to focus on fixing his eyeliner, but god his hands feel so good against your skin, how he grips harder when you make eye contact, or how his eyes keep looking at your lips.

you clench you thighs together to stop the feeling between them but it just makes it worse.

roman whispers low and rough.

“you okay there, mami?”

you don’t say anything. just swallow hard and nod.

he notices how your trembling against his hand, how your body clenches when you make eye contact.

his hands slid down to undo your belt buckle.

you let out a shaky breath

“what are you doing…?”

he looks up at you with puppy eyes.

“just let me help you baby, i can help you feel better.”

you swallow hard, not saying anything.

his fingers undo your belt and move to unzip your jeans,

your little lacy pink thong showing now.

he smiles big, hungry, desperate.

you drop the makeup brush behind you, your breath hitches as roman’s hands move with practiced hunger, the air thick with tension and the faint scent of your vanilla perfume mixed with his cologne. the vanity digs into your thighs as he lifts you onto it, cold marble against warm skin.

he doesn’t ask twice, his mouth crashes onto yours before you can protest, tongue sliding past your lips like he owns them. When he pulls back just enough to speak, his voice is low, a rough purr that curls heat in your stomach.

“Open.”

you hesitate for half a second before obeying. your jaw slackens; eyes wide under long lashes.

his fingers slip into your mouth first, salty from sweat and salted snacks earlier, and push deeper than expected. you gag slightly when they brush the back of throat but don’t pull away.

"wider," he commands, thumb pressing down on corner of lip until it stretches further. "come on mami… show me how good you are."

tears prickle at corners again, not from pain exactly but pressure, but there's no arguing here tonight not when roman gets this look, dark eyebrows drawn together focus entirely on you, pupils blown black around hazel irises.

his fingers slip beneath lace-edged panties, one of his fingertip circles slow through slickness then dips inside without warning

roman smirks against side neck where teeth grazed skin moments ago leaving faint pink mark blooming now

“such a needy little slut,” he murmurs, biting gently along collarbone. “already soaked… fucking perfect.”

he pulls his fingers out of your mouth wiping the tears from your face.

then suddenly everything shifts

his fingers pump in and out of you with a wet slick sound, making you moan out.

“shh mami, people can hear you.” he nips at the side of your neck, then curls with fingers inside of you

“f-fuck roman, i’m gonna come.”

you whimper out, digging your nails into his back.

“already? you really are just as desperate as i thought, my good little slut.”

he starts kissing the side of your neck again, leaving little red and purple marks

his thumb move to your sensitive clit and rubs in tight circles, purposely overstimulating you,

you whimper softly gripping onto the back of his shirt,

he smiles into your neck

“come on baby girl you can do it,

come like a good girl for me i know you can.”

god his voice is so soothing even when he’s finger fucking you.

you moan out softly, thighs clenching around his hand

eventually a moan rips from your throat

roma a hand comes to cover your mouth.

“shut up. i told you to be quiet.”

you come right on his fingers

but he doesn’t let up he’s gonna keep going until you’re a whimpering crying mess.

his fingers still pump in and out of you but this time sloppier and rougher making you whimper against his hand

“mmm you’re taking this so well, my beautiful girl.”

he pulls his fingers out and licks them clean

your head falls against his shoulder

your breaths are short and ragged.

“you taste so good, you know that?”

you hum in agreement

roman lifts your chin

“you okay?”

you nod, lips parted and eye droopy

“y-yeah, i just need a second.” you breath out

roman kisses you slow, no tongue no teeth, just sweetness.

“fuck..” you swallow.

“fuck is right mami, you better catch your breath, because i’m not done with you yet.”

his hands move down to unzip his jeans,

his cock is painfully hard against his calvin cline boxers.

your breath hitches and you look up at him, and take your bottom lip between your teeth

“what?” he says low and into your ear.

you shake your head

“nothin.. nothin….”

“i still just need a second.”

he rolls his eyes and kisses you again.

“okay seconds up. lift your hips.”

you lift up and he yanks your panties down, he scoffs at the wet mark that was left in them from when you came the first time.

he pulls his boxers down with one hand revealing his thick cock that was already dripping with pre-cum.

your hands grip his shoulders and he pushes in you with one brutal thrust.

you moan out, you head dropping to his shoulder again

“shut up slut, people can hear you, fuck.”

roman grips your hips and pushes in and out of you hard.

“god mami, you’re so fucking tight, holy shit.” he mumbles into your ear

roman's thrusts grow rougher, the vanity shaking under you with every snap of his hips. the makeup bottles rattle, powders spilling, lipsticks rolling off, and somewhere in the back of your mind you think about how messy this is going to be later.

but right now?

nothing matters except him.

his hands are everywhere your ass, your hair, gripping the counter behind you to pull himself deeper, and he’s breathing so hard against your neck like he might actually pass out from how good it feels.

"fucking hell," he grits out between clenched teeth. "You take me so well… fuck… you’re so tight mami"

he kisses you suddenly, hard and desperate and all tongue and teeth, not giving a second for gentleness or romance or any soft shit like that. this isn’t sweet roman leal from interviews on talk shows. this is hungry Roman who hasn’t touched someone in weeks because no one else has ever made him feel this insane…

and then his pace shifts again: faster now; less controlled; more animalistic instinct taking over completely as sweat beads at his temples…

one hand slips down between your bodies,to circle that swollen little bud again while still pounding into you, and when two fingers press right there?

you shatter.

a scream catches in your throat before escaping loud as hell,high-pitched whimper mixed with moan but roman immediately covers half of it by crashing his mouth back onto yours, his hand comes up to grip your throat, squeezing slightly, just as another wave crashes through both of them at once...

roman’s body locks, muscles taut, breath ragged, as he spills inside you, hot cum filling your insides, pulse after pulse hitting deep. he doesn’t pull out right away, just stays there, forehead pressed to yours, lips still slightly connected like the kiss never broke.

for a few seconds? silence.

just heavy breathing. the hum of the vanity lights above. your heartbeat thudding in your ears.

then slowly, so slowly, he lifts his head and looks at you. bot sweetly or tenderly (roman isn’t that guy), but with something softer than hunger now: satisfaction? maybe even affection?

he brushes a sweaty strand of hair from your face with his thumb, the first gentle touch since this whole thing started, and kisses your lips once. quickly.

no words yet though.

just that small press against skin before he finally pulls back carefully…sliding out without making it awkward on purpose…

zips himself up quietly.

fixes his boxers under jeans without looking at anything but movement

then grabs one clean wipe from makeup tray

hands it to you wordlessly

“okay mami,” he’s breathing heavily “i gotta take pictures okay? i’ll text you when im done.”

you nod

he leaves one more kiss on your lips

and smiles.

“bye baby.” you say smug as hell

bring back fingers in mouth 🤤🤤

i love u guys

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