Romanxbimboreader. nsfw. Weird. BOTH are adults!!. seems like reader is to “stupid” and doesn’t know anything about sex. so non con. (I don’t promote these stuff irl I just like it in fiction).
Bimbo reader who has been Roman’s friend since childhood, even though he treated her in the meanest ways possible sometimes, calling her names, rolling his eyes at her outfits, being ashamed of her infront of his friends, or straight-up ignoring her for days just to test if she’d finally leave. But she never did. She would always come back the next day with her silly smile and some stupid little gift like a glittery sticker or half her candy bar, acting like nothing happened. Roman still doesn’t get it. He wonders why someone so bright and soft would keep choosing someone as cold and broken as him. It makes him angry at himself more than at her, because her loyalty is the one thing he secretly craves and can’t admit he loves.
Bimbo reader who shows up at his mansion unannounced in the tiniest, sparkliest dresses imaginable, pink micro-minis, glittery halter tops, strappy heels that click loudly on the marble. She’s always giggling, twirling a lollipop between her glossy lips while she babbles about random things. Then she flops onto his couch or his bed in the weirdest positions legs dangling over the armrest, skirt riding up so high you can see the lace edges of her pink panties, completely clueless about how much skin she’s showing. Roman sits across from her, pretending to scroll on his phone, but his eyes keep dragging back to her thighs, her chest rising with every breath. His jaw ticks, fingers digging into the leather chair. Controlling the dark pull inside him, the hunger mixed with raw want, feels like holding back a flood. He snaps at her to “sit like a normal person for fucks sake,” but his voice comes out rougher than he means, and she just giggles and sticks her tongue out at him.
Bimbo reader who is extremely clumsy and always manages to spill something on herself, coffee down her cleavage, smoothie on her skirt, melted chocolate dripping onto her stomach. She innocently pouts every single time, big eyes filling up with tears as she whines, “Romie… it’s all sticky and gross now… can you clean me up, pretty please?” He grumbles that she’s a walking disaster and calls her an idiot, but he still grabs a warm cloth (or his shirt sleeve). He kneels in front of her, wiping slowly, his long fingers brushing over soft skin, lingering on the curve of her breast and the inside of her thigh way longer than necessary. She squirms and giggles nervously; he can smell her perfume and the faint sweetness of whatever she spilled, and it drives him insane. Those moments are torture disguised as care.
Bimbo reader who asks him the most innocent, blunt questions about sex because she genuinely doesn’t know much. She’ll be painting her nails on his bed or curled against his side during a movie and suddenly blurt out, “Romie, what actually sex is” She asks with wide, curious eyes, no shame at all. Roman starts with sarcasm:“Gosh, you’re hopeless”, but the more she asks, the lower his voice gets, the darker his gaze. He watches her cheeks flush and her thighs press together without her even noticing, and it wakes something possessive and hungry in him.
Bimbo reader who one night hears him say, “You want to know so bad? Then we’ll play a game. You have to agree to whatever I say. No backing out.” She nods excitedly, thinking it’s just another silly thing they do, like when they used to play pretend as kids. He starts slow: “Take off your dress.” She giggles but peels it off, standing there in pretty lingerie. “Come here and sit on my lap.” She straddles him, gasping softly when she feels how hard he is. His hands grip her hips, voice dropping to a growl as he guides her:“Touch yourself here… like this…”. Until she’s trembling and whimpering against his mouth.
Bimbo reader who lets him take it further when the game turns real. He lays her back on the silk sheets, kissing down her body until he reaches her thighs. His fingers slide between her legs, slow at first, teasing, then two slipping inside her while his thumb circles her clit in tight, perfect strokes. She’s so wet, so responsive; she clutches his shoulders and gasps, “Romie, it feels so… tingly and hot…” He watches her face the whole time, mesmerized by how easily she unravels for him. He curls his fingers just right, whispering “That’s it, good girl,” against her ear until she shatters around his hand, crying out his name in the sweetest, broken voice.
Bimbo reader who doesn’t stop there, he sheds his clothes, settles between her legs, and pushes inside her slowly, inch by inch, watching every flicker of pleasure and surprise on her face. She’s tight and warm and perfect; he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep control. He starts deep and steady, then faster as she wraps her legs around his waist, moaning softly with every thrust. When he finally comes, it hits him hard, he buries his face in her neck, groaning her name, holding her so tight she’ll probably have faint bruises tomorrow.
Bimbo reader who curls right into him afterward, all soft and glowing and sleepy. She traces little hearts on his chest and mumbles, “That was the best game we ever played…” before drifting off. Roman lies awake staring at the ceiling, heart hammering, he feels raw, exposed, terrified she’ll see the monster underneath and finally run. But she just snuggles closer, completely at peace in his arms.
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