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kingkat12 · 3 months ago

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Hiii !! I don’t know if you’re still doing Roman Godfrey imagines but if u are can u do Husband!Roman he just have gotten back from work after a hard day & u guys have a smoke session than things take a turn & u two have rough sex?? (U can do your things with the smut I can’t really think of anything 😂🫶🏽 but ty !!)

if i'm still doing Roman Godfrey imagines... IF I'M STILL DOING ROMAN GODFREY IMAGINES??? it's all i ever do, sweetheart🙈💜 i fucking loved writing this and i hope i've done your wish justice!! it took a different turn than expected, but this only means i might have to revisit this tihi... and it's the first bj i've ever written lol so hope it went well! ENJOY!!🌸

silk tie (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, bondage, oral sex (female receiving), blowjob, suit-fetish, smoking

summary: your husband has had quite the day... and now he's adamant about making it a little better

word count: 4,347

I hadn't noticed Roman was home before I walked past the balcony.

It was about three in the morning, which was an odd time for him to return from work. Or had he arrived back earlier?-- I had been asleep, so there was no way for me to know. I never waited up for him anymore, as he was usually either grumpy or completely exhausted. He wouldn't exactly take it out on me, but I was still unsure how to deal with his mood swings ever since his upir cravings got worse.

Maybe our marriage wasn't perfect, but it had its moments. Moments such as these.

I watched as Roman leaned against the balcony railing, clearly deep in thought as he smoked a cigarette. He was still wearing his suit, not having bothered to get out of his work attire. On top of that, it was clear that he had been ripping at his hair because it looked like an absolute mess. With quiet steps, I joined his side, not saying a word. I could only look at him, revel in the upward curve of his nose, the pout of his lips, and the way he lazily balanced the cigarette between his fingers.

"Hey, gorgeous," I said, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. "How are you?"

Roman hummed, exhaling a cloud of smoke through his nose. It was clear that his mind was elsewhere. "I've been here for fifteen minutes and this is my sixth cigarette. I think I'm slowly going insane,"

It wasn't unusual for Roman to get into these depressive ruts-- it would often happen when work got a little crazy and Pryce wouldn't get off his case. "You're not going insane," I stepped away from the balcony, wrapping my arms around my husband from behind. "You just need to get some sleep... Come to bed." My words were muffled against his broad back, pressing a kiss through his suit.

Roman sighed, running his free hand over my fingers, feeling how small I was against him. "I already slept an hour in my office,"

Typical. "An hour isn't enough,"

"Well, I'm not sleepy anymore, and that's all that counts," Roman stumped the cigarette against the railing, another sigh escaping him. "But don't let me keep you up."

I nuzzled my face against his back, inhaling the scent of his cologne; I had missed him today. "I don't want to go back to bed without my husband,"

"It wouldn't be the first time,"

I rolled my eyes-- enough was enough. His self-deprecation could be downright annoying sometimes, mostly because he was more stubborn than a donkey. "Talk to me, Rome, what's on your mind?"

Roman gave in, turning to me. Like this, I could see the way the bags under his eyes had darkened since this morning and the way his eyelids were halfway drooped into a look of exhaustion. "It just... hit me today that all my ties are silk,"

"... What?"

"Silk," Roman echoed, and he had a hollow look about him as he wrapped his arms around me. He put his head on top of mine before burying his nose in my hair, inhaling sharply. "The devil wrapped in silk is still the devil."

It didn't take long for me to realize that he was talking about his urges again. "You're not the devil, Roman," I drew small circles on his back, hoping to soothe him. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd had something to drink on top of this. "You're working through it and you're doing well. Do you not realize that?"

He hummed; "It's just not fair to you," Roman's hands went up in my hair, pulling me tighter against his chest. "I want to grow old with you, but sometimes I wonder whether it was a good decision to get married... Whether I shouldn't have been selfish enough to drag you down with me."

I put my hands against his chest, slowly pushing myself away. This was a different speech from his usual sad ones-- this was new. "... What are you saying?"

Exasperated, Roman groaned as he turned away from me, leaning over the railing once more. He dragged his hands through his hair, tugging a little too hard at his roots. "I don't-- I don't know, okay? I just want Pryce's treatments to work, to be rid of whatever the fuck I've become, and just... Fuck! I hear the beating of my heart all the time and it's driving me fucking crazy!" He drove his elbows down against the surface, covering his ears as though it would help.

My body was begging for me to go back to sleep, but my heart was actively shattering at the sight of Roman so broken. I took slow steps towards him; with wary movements, my fingers dipped into the jacket of his suit, fishing out a pack of cigarettes. My other hand went into the front pocket of his trousers, fishing out his lighter. I wasn't the biggest endorser of smoking, but I knew exactly why Roman did it-- it slowed down his heart, making it easier to bear the constant sound of his blood pulsing through his veins.

I put the cigarette between my lips, now feeling Roman's glossy eyes on me. Lighting it, taking a rather long drag myself, I made my way between his arms. I balanced the cigarette between my fingers, holding it up in front of his mouth, and it didn't take long before he accepted it, wrapping his plush lips around it with a satisfied sigh.

Something about the look of relief on Roman's face gave my heart the ease it had needed all day. Knowing I could be the one to soothe him, to bring him down from his panic, assured me that we were good for each other after all.

I reached out for his tie, feeling the silk between the pads of my fingers. "When you're not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives," My hands left his tie, now resting against his chest, feeling the beating of his heart against my palm. "You've cut your tongue so many times that when life hands you a flower, you can't quite make out what it is. It takes time, Roman. Marriage takes time."

The smoke from the cigarette wrapped around us like a warm duvet, the warm summer breeze blowing it away with soft strokes. A kind, subtle smile spread across Roman's lips, finding solace in my words. His free hand traveled down to rest against the small of my back, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss against my forehead. "Sometimes at work, I have thoughts of simply dissolving into you," he murmured, pulling away to take another drag before continuing. "It's unexplainable, but the thought is always there... and there's nothing I want more than that."

I let out the breath I had been holding, glad to see him calm again. "Are we talking sex?"

The laugh that followed made my heart sing; "You'd think so, but that's not how I meant it," Roman took a final drag, putting out the cigarette and tossing it away somewhere. "Although... I could mean it like that."

"Of course you could," I got up on my toes to give his neck a sweet kiss, knowing I couldn't reach up to his face. "But I think our first priority would be to get some sleep, and then we'll see what we can do in the morning if we have time."

Roman bit his lower lip, suppressing a cheeky grin. His green eyes sparkled with the familiar look of want, and I immediately knew he was up to no good. "I have to disagree... I think the first priority would be to get you out of my shirt,"

My eyes widened-- I had forgotten that I was wearing it. In my defense, it was easier to fall asleep when he was away if I wore it. "What, you want it back or something?"

"No," Roman's voice dropped as his hands went down to grab at my waist. "Just want it off."

"It's three in the morning!--"

"And since when did we care about that?" He didn't even try to suppress his growing smirk anymore, and I watched his pupils dilate in real time as ideas soared through his dirty, dirty mind. It didn't take much time before Roman took my hand into his, bringing it up to his mouth to press a wet kiss against my knuckles. My breath hitched, having missed the sensation of his lips against my body. But suddenly, he lowered my hand and pressed it up against himself, leaving me breathless and in shock.

Roman gave in to a laugh at the expression on my face, leaning down to press a kiss against the underside of my jaw. "Are you really going to deny me when I'm in a suit? That always works like a killer on you,"

And he was definitely right about that-- everything about him right now made me want to jump him. "Who said anything about denying you?" I mumbled, rubbing him through his trousers, my fingers feeling along each divot and ridge of his length. Swallowing hard, I realized I could feel him grow harder beneath my palm. "I just don't think we should be doing this on the balcony..."

Roman hummed, a low moan vibrating in his chest; "Yeah, good idea," I barely had time to register what was happening before his big arms wrapped around me, hoisting me over his shoulder as I yelped. It always surprised me that he could lift me as though I weighed nothing, and I laughed against his back as he made his way back into the house with a strong grip around me.

"Rome, for fuck's sake!" I couldn't stop the trail of giggles escaping me, happy to see this side of my husband again. "You can't be serious-- Hey!" The squeak that escaped me was unlike anything I had heard coming from my mouth before, but how else was I to react as Roman struck his hand against my ass? Something about the sting was both painful and weirdly arousing-- I couldn't put my finger on it. Was this my lack of sleep talking?

Roman proceeded to chuckle, leading us into the bedroom. "Of course I'm serious," It didn't take long before he laid me down on the bed, crawling over to me like a predator. "I'm a serious man, you know me."

"Yeah, right,"

As Roman made space for himself between my legs, I couldn't help but fling my arms around his neck to pull him close. I had waited for him to come home all evening to do just this-- the bliss that filled my body as our lips finally met was unmatched by any other heavenly feeling on earth. "I've wanted you all day," I purred against him, feeling the hardness of his cock twitching against me.

"Don't say that shit," he whispered back, letting out a shaky breath as he raised himself up. "Makes me feel like I'm going to burst."

I bit down a giggle, my hands reaching for him once more. "Oh, come on, it hasn't been that long since last time!"

"... Three days?"

"Three days?!" I could barely believe it-- this was outrageous. Blinking rapidly, I watched as Roman's smirk reappeared, now leaning back down to capture my lips in a soft, passionate kiss. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me flush against him and the fabric of his suit. "Well, I've been busy... and you've been out a lot," he murmured against my lips, his hot breath against my mouth making me shiver. "It's almost as though I need to make sure you're always here waiting for me... Because there's no way in hell I'll let another three days pass before I fuck you again."

I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at, but I liked the sound of it. I liked everything about this actually-- his tongue against mine, my hands in his hair, the feeling of our hearts beating at each other through our chests. But suddenly, the weight of him disappeared off me, and before I knew it, Roman's green eyes practically pierced me as he knelt before me, my legs creasing at his thighs.

I knew this look. This look of lust, love, and mischief; I couldn't take my eyes off of him. The way his chest heaved, the way he stared down at me through his brows, and the way the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a smirk made my stomach flutter.

It only dawned on me what Roman actually meant when his hands went up to his tie. Silk. My eyes widened; "Oh God, Rome--"

"Let's strike a deal," he purred, drawing the black tie through his fingers as he licked his lips. "Deal with the devil, if you like. Your little wish for mine."

I nearly shuddered, feeling my pulse quicken. "And what is it that I wish?"

Roman's chuckle was darker than expected. Something told me he had wanted to do this for a while. "I know you have an affinity for my suits, so I'll keep it on. And you... will stay still,"

Stay still? I could only squeal as Roman grabbed my hips, moving me further up the bed with ease. My breaths came out in short, ragged motions as he took my wrists into his big hand, tying them to the headboard with the other. The mix of the situation and my lack of sleep made me light-headed; "Rome," I mewled out against his chest, looking up to try to meet his eyes. I let out a quiet hiss as he tightened the tie around my wrists, watching as he made sure there wasn't much wiggle room.

This was something new.

"Perfect," Roman said, mostly to himself, before taking my face into his hands to press a wet kiss against my lips. "Fuck, this is perfect... Let's just stay like this forever, hm?"

My heart fluttered, and I had to swallow rather hard as he made his way down my neck, leaving a trail of kisses along my body. It was hard to say no to a man towering well over six feet dressed in a ridiculously expensive suit. I squirmed against my restraints, my lashes fluttering as I remembered how sleepy I actually was-- but the tie was tied tightly around my wrists, and there was nowhere for me to go. "Since when do you have the energy to do this at three am?" I tried, hoping to stop my breath from hitching as his hands neared the hem of my shirt.

Roman took his time with giving me a response, his fingers now grazing my bare skin, leaving me shivering with anticipation. "You know you're talking about your husband, right?" he said, pushing my shirt further up as he spoke. "Were three days enough to make you forget that I always have energy for this?"

Before I had the opportunity to answer, Roman leaned down to lick a wet stripe up my stomach. I let out a broken moan, tugging at my restraints once more, squirming beneath him. "Rome, shit--" As he paired his licks up with kisses, I quickly felt my arousal pooling between my legs; there was no going back now.

We had never actually talked about tying me up like this, and I wasn't sure whether this was torturous or pleasurable. All I wanted was to reach down and run my fingers through his hair, tug him closer, feel him-- everything about the denial made me further desperate.

Seeing as I was dressed for bed, I wasn't wearing a bra; something told me that my husband approved. It didn't take long before my shirt was at my arms, Roman's lips wrapped around an aching bud as he sucked at me. I could only write and moan, feeling completely breathless. "I can't-- Fuck, Roman,"

It felt as though the smell of cigarettes swallowed me whole, dragging me deep into the depths of my arousal. My hips bucked up against him, desperate for more, but all my attempts were shut down when Roman grabbed my hips and pinned me down to the bed. "Behave," he said, a low grunt following as his grip on me tightened.

Hearing that word, I knew I was screwed. It suddenly became very, very apparent that Roman was in one of those moods-- this was usually the side of him that would come out when he felt like everything around him was spinning out of control, meaning he had to control the only thing he felt he could; me.

And with me being tied up and all, I couldn't help but comply.

"Sweetheart?" Roman shifted, making sure he had my attention before he sat up. Slowly, his hand inched down to his zipper, a cheeky smirk spreading across his lips. "I've had such a tough day, and seeing you like this is really making it all feel better... But I wanna see how pretty you look with your lips around my cock."

The teasing tone in his low voice was enough to drive me crazy. Along with that, the proper look about him had me struggling to breathe. There was something tantalizing about the fact that America's youngest CEO was right here, married to me, wanting and needing me. So when Roman unzipped his trousers, leading his hard cock to my mouth, I gladly accepted it.

I slid just the tip of my tongue up the underside, so light he could barely feel it-- it was mostly just the sensation of my breath. Judging by the sound of Roman's breath hitching and the slight twitch of his cock, I knew I was on the right track. I gave the tip a gentle kiss before giggling to myself, not having to look up to know he was blushing. "For fuck's sake," he breathed, reaching down to grab a full fist of my hair, pulling me closer.

This was his way of politely saying please.

So I gave in, wrapping my lips around the head of his cock, sucking him in, and tasting the drop of pre-cum that immediately landed on my tongue. It was followed by a downright lewd moan from Roman, who loosened the grip on my hair before throwing his head back just a little. I couldn't help but glance up at him, so prim and proper in his suit, yet completely unraveled by the slightest touch.

And since my hands were tied and I couldn't touch him, I reveled in the fact that I could taste him. Which is why, when Roman pulled out of my mouth with a rather wet pop, I pouted up at him as he made his way back down. But my pout quickly faded as my lips parted, my breath escaping me as he rubbed the tip of his cock over my chest. "You're too damn pretty," Roman said as he stroked himself at the sight of me. "Do you want my mouth on you before we go?"

"Yes, please," The ache between my legs almost burned-- there was nothing I wanted more in the world.

It didn't take long before Roman tucked himself back into his pants and moved down my body with eager kisses, and the anticipation nearly had me panting so hard that I was sure I might pass out. But the tension in my body quickly dissolved as Roman pulled my pyjama shorts aside, licking a wet stripe up my sex, which made my back arch off the bed. My hands strained against the tie, letting out a weak groan-- I was dying to bury my hands in his hair.

"You're already so wet," Roman purred, leaning down to press a soft kiss against my clit. "Could've fucked you already." His fingers dug into my hips to hold me down, sucking me in as his lips covered my mound. It felt so intense, that I could barely hear my own thoughts; I heaved in sharp breaths of air, squeezing my eyes shut as I struggled against my restraints. It only got worse when Roman's tongue slid over my sopping entrance, entering me, fucking me-- I was sure I was dreaming.

It was too much. Especially when he cupped my breasts, pinching my nipples between his thumb and pointer finger. I could only cry out, my fingers gripping harshly around the tie. My overstimulation washed over me like a wave, and I was sure it was due to my lack of sleep. "Roman, please, I can't... I want you in me-- A-Aah," I couldn't stop the way my hips bucked against him, nor the way my gaze darted down to watch his eyes falling shut as he savoured me, his thick, long lashes casting shadows over his cheeks.

Thankfully, my husband wasn't in the mood to keep me on the edge tonight. Roman got up, a knowing smirk spreading across his slicked lips. "I might have to tie you up like this more often," he said, palming himself through his suit. "This is quite the sight."

From his perspective, I could understand this-- it wasn't every day that he saw his wife splayed out like this, t-shirt draped just above her bare chest, and completely at his mercy. On the other hand, I was sure I had gotten just as good of a bargain. I had been begging Roman to fuck me in one of his suits, and here he was, finally complying. If this wasn't love, then I couldn't be sure.

"Oh, you should see yourself," I purred, biting back a grin. "Mr. CEO... All mine."

Roman let out a soft chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss against my lower abdomen as he pulled off my pyjama bottoms. "Always been yours,"

I could only sigh, feeling a surge of warmth coursing through my veins. At the end of the day, it was true-- Roman was mine, and I was his. Bonded together through our testimony, before the law, and before all things celestial. Everything about this would've been perfect if I wasn't bonded to the bed as well. My wrists were starting to ache, but I didn't have much time to think about that as I felt Roman entering me, a low grunt escaping him. I couldn't help but shudder, feeling the familiar stretch and fullness I had been craving for so long, and I struggled against my restraints as I cried out in pleasure.

Roman kept one hand planted on my hip, the other one gripping hard at my thigh. Seeing the expression on his face was nearly enough to make me moan-- Fuck, how I had missed this. The feeling of his cock inside me, the feeling of his hands on me, and being completely at his mercy. He had thankfully learned to be a little gentle with me at the start, and I felt his green eyes on me as I closed mine, lips parting at the sensation of feeling him thrust into me with slow strokes. Heaven, heaven-- it was impossible that such pleasure could be dealt by the hands of a devil.

"Shit," Roman's hands gripped my waist, a need growing with each pump of his cock. He was so damn gorgeous, his sharp jawline twitching as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. It didn't take long before he grew impatient-- he shifted, the next snap of his hips digging his cock completely to the hilt in my warmth, a soft moan escaping him as my walls fluttered around his length.

My breath hitched, letting out a string of curse words. "Rome, please," The tie around my wrists was starting to drive me mad; "I want-- A-Ah, wanna touch you..."

I wasn't sure whether Roman was hearing me or not, his lips parting in pleasure. Eventually, he leaned forward, his mouth crashing onto mine, holding me close as I moaned against him between kisses. Now that he was even closer, I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and feel the fabric of his suit against my body, fulfilling my deepest fantasy. "Please," I breathed, my back arching as his cock brushed past my sweet spot. "Rome, please..."

I could feel him smirk against my mouth, and Roman pulled back to watch the absolute desperation swimming in my eyes. "What was that?" As he waited for my response, he pulled out until only the tip of him remained in me.

For fuck's sake-- "Please!" I cried, struggling against my restraints. "I can't... I can't--"

A sense of victory flashed through Roman's green eyes, traces of a darker satisfaction spreading across his lips as he thrust all the way back into me, watching me writhe and moan beneath him, fighting the urge to rip the tie to shreds to embrace him. "Fine," he said, leaning forward to clasp my wrists, smirking as his breath landed hot against my lips.

A moan mixed in with the sigh I let out, my hands immediately flying up into his hair as the tie was tossed away somewhere on the floor. Roman laughed against the kiss I dragged him into, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his lap, his cock still in me. "That was so much fun," he purred against my lips, grabbing my ass to drive me up and down along his slicked length. "We're doing that again."

"Fuck you," I pulled Roman tightly against my chest, feeling his arms snake themselves around me with the same intensity. It hit me how much I loved the feeling of him against me, how warm he was today, and how insanely hot he looked in that damn suit. Our lips came together in open, soft kisses, breathing against each other as our eyes locked, intense pleasure coursing through our bodies.

Roman was most certainly not the devil, and I could confidently conclude with that. However, I couldn't deny that he liked to play the most devilish games at the most inappropriate times-- but I had never loved my husband more than I did at this moment, right now.

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #hemlock grove #bill skarsgård #fanfic #x reader #fanfiction #bill skarsgard #oneshot #smut #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard smut #hemlock grove fanfiction #husband!au #request

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 1 year ago

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Subtle-tea (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Summary/Prompt: “You’re only semi-lucid and are sort of reaching for my face, and for various reasons I shouldn’t kiss YOUR face but your hand is right here and I still need to convey affection.” AKA. You and Benedict drink too much of Colin’s special tea and it spurs you to act upon previously hidden feelings.

AN: Benedict is the bee’s knees, just a silly lil art guy. I got inspired and I’ve got two more Benedict fics coming out rip. But it’s just so difficult to write for Bridgerton cus you can’t write any gay stuff without it being tragic and/or a secret. Oh well, don’t expect me to write much more female reader content of my own volition/not inspired by my friends.

Content warnings: Reader uses she/her, use of Y/N and L/N, is referred to as “wife”

Masterlist // AO3

You had no idea what on Earth was in that tea. But you would have to ask later, because currently you felt as light as a feather and giddy as a giggle, laying on the sofa in the art studio as Benedict was launching himself between two walls, orating about his great desires to create. By far, you were experiencing the greatest emotions on the whim of your artistic associate.

“There’s just so many colours that we are privy to, and we take every single shade for granted!” He declared, his arms wide open to the heavens.

You pointed at him in an accusing manner, “Have you seen purple recently? It’s glorious! No wonder it was the colour of status in the Roman Empire, I too would want it all for myself and my friends.”

“How selfish you are, Miss L/N,” Benedict scolded, “Surely everyone should be given the chance to wear such a colour.”

His anger faded fast. As endearing as it was, it was nothing compared to that grin of his. So naturally you decided to make him smile even more with a ridiculous notion that just jumped into your woozy mind.

“Do you know what would happen if my mother knew where I was?” You said in a loud whisper.

Benedict pouted and nodded, riddled with pantomime guilt as he leant over, “You. Me. In a room. Alone.”

“Unchaperoned,” You said then gasped, your hands clapping against your cheeks in shock, “I would be ruined!”

Benedict mimicked your appal by dropping to his knees before you, “We would have to marry to save your reputation!”

“Imagine me, your wife!” You threw your head back as you flashed your bare left hand to him. Somewhere in the back of your mind, an inhibition screamed at you to stop lingering so openly on something your sober self was set on not happening

But your heart grew gleeful as Benedict grasped your hand gently.

“I shall imagine it!” He declared and lowered his lips, and planted a loud kiss upon your knuckle - right where the engagement and wedding bands would sit. You lowered your chin just in time to see this with your own eyes before Benedict met your gaze again, still beaming with roguish delight, “Oh what a beautiful imagining it is.”

Your legs curled up beneath you on the couch, and you fell over in hysterical giggling. You clasped your hand to your chest and cradled it like a newborn. As you lay sprawled out, Benedict popped into your field of view with his hands either side of your head, tactfully avoiding your hair.

“Your laugh is like music! As your husband, it would be my purpose to make you sing at least once a day.”

“Then kiss me again, you silly man!” You squealed, offering your hand once more.

Balancing on one arm, and completely unaware that this compromising position was aiding in your dizzy frenzy, Benedict kissed the same spot then turned the palm against his cheek. He held it there as he said:

“Look, it’s like you were sculpted to hold me.”

Euphoria ran riot across your body, your heart beating so fast you thought you would die from delight.

“And you were carved to be held by me.” From your vantage point, with newly founded confidence, you tried to pull his lips down to yours, but Benedict resisted.

“We shall not kiss ‘til we are married.”

Eyes wide, you squeezed the back of his neck to keep him close, “Is this a proposal?”

“I do not think we are in the right state of mind to make rational decisions,” and Benedict bumped his nose to yours, causing a little laughter before continuing: “But marrying you is the sanest idea I’ve had all evening.”

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict reader fanfic #benedict bridgerton oneshot #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton oneshot #my writing #r: fem #wc: <1k

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trippinsorrows · 3 months ago

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looking through your eyes + thirteen

authors note: welp. the gala is finally here, friends! i hope you enjoy. well, the enjoyable parts.

ya'll remember that promo where kevin and sami tried to jump roman and he was furious, throwing shit out the ring, yelling at solo to position sami for the spear? that's how angry our collective favorite grump gets in this one...

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: violence against women, scene of torture, fighting violence, language, angst, fluff, livid roman, and discussion regarding family loss.

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 11k

“Guys, is this really necessary?”

Truth be told, Solana already knows how both of her friends are going to respond. Bayley, however, is the one who briefly rips her focus from finding an x-large size in the top to the matching bottoms she’s picked out for Solana.

“It absolutely is necessary.” She takes a second to gesture to Solana’s outfit for the day. “You’ve come so far in so many ways, including not hiding your body as much, so we have to keep that going.”

“Exactly,” Naomi chimes as she reaches yet another dress to Solana, adding it to the pile of clothes she already has stacked on her arm. “Besides, who doesn’t love shopping with other people’s money?”

Other people would be Roman. Despite her horror at the totals every time Bayley and Naomi sucker her into these outrageous shopping trips, her husband never seems to bat an eye. It’s not unsurprising. She knows he’s filthy rich. But still, just the thought of spending so much money on clothes is a struggle.

And as Bayley adds the two piece suit to her arm, Solana starts to notice there’s a theme in the items they’re picking for her. A lot of bathing suits. Sun dresses. Shorts and thin sleeved tops. All appropriate for summer, of course. But, something else.

Like a trip.

Curious, Solana suddenly asks, “why are we getting so many vacation type outfits?”

Naomi looks at her with the perfect confused expression. “What?” She laughs, picking up a bright orange top with a low neckline. “Girl, it’s summer. These are summer clothes.”

“But all these bathing suits—”

“Because we finally got you to embrace a two-piece, so now we need to make sure you have plenty of em’ whenever you and Roman decide to go for a swim.” Her wink makes Solana look away to hide her blush. She doesn’t regret opening up about trying to eventually consummate her marriage, but the way Naomi and Bayley never waste a chance to crack an innuendo can be….a lot at times.

“I’m gonna go bring these up front.” Solana gestures to the heavy stack of clothes that she’s holding. The second, or maybe third, stack they’ve accumulated for her. There’s always a check-in regarding if Solana likes it or not, which she appreciates. Even if they’ve become exceptionally good at distinguishing whether she doesn’t like something because it’s just not her style or whether she doesn’t like it because of insecurity. And when it’s the second one, they never hesitate to invoke their veto powers, instructing the cashier to ring it up.

Solana finds the sales girl from earlier up at the register, messing around on her phone as the line is non-existent. Her emerald green eyes dart up from the screen and an almost crooked smile falls on her young looking face. Solana would guess she’s either in her late teens or early twenties.

“Got more for me?”

Solana giggles. “Just a little.”

The girl also laughs, accepting the new pile and adding it with the others. She turns back around with a bit of skeptical look. “Hey, uh, can I ask you something?”

Curious, Solana nods. “Sure.”

She leans over the counter, red hair sprinkling past her freckled shoulders. “How did you meet your husband?” Eyes widening a bit, Solana’s surprise at the question must show. “I’ve seen you come in here a couple times now over the past few months, and every time you spend more than what my parents probably make in a month combined. And your ring is so beautiful. I guess I’m just kind of wondering how I can get lucky too. Cause your husband clearly loves you a lot to spoil you so much.”

Love…..

Not until this very moment has Solana ever thought about Roman and the word love in the same sentence. Hell, in the same universe.

He’s….he’s done so much for her. Changed her life, for the better, in almost every way. And she’s gathered that he must care for her to some extent. Why else would he do the things he’s done? But love….that’s such a strong word.

Too strong.

Not to mention, he’d made clear to her the first time he came to visit her at her job that he could never love her. He was very honest about that, and in a weird way, she appreciated it.

But…..but he also said that she was a business arrangement, and nothing about the way he treats her feels like a business obligation.

So…..

It’s such a big thing, a big thing she’s not sure she wants to tackle in public, let alone while standing in front of a complete stranger.

“He’s really great.” That’s the answer nonanswer that she settles on. “I just….I got really lucky with him.” Because she did. God knows she did.

“Fair,” the girl laughs. “Well, if he has any younger brothers who are kind and generous like him, I’m single.”

Solana smiles a bit when her attention lands on the word brothers. Siblings. Family.

It takes her back to a few months earlier, the night he rushed off because of conflict with this Cody Rhodes person. The night he shared with her he also lost his mother at the age of ten.

But…..but there was more.

Brief glimpses, flashbacks almost of a different night. Her body pressed against his. His strong arms around her. Comforting her almost.

“....all of my siblings….”

“.....only one…..”

“....alone….”

And though she can’t make out everything, can’t remember verbatim what he’d shared with her that evening. there’s enough bits and pieces that she’s able to string together a coherent, heartbreaking realization.

It wasn’t just Roman’s mom he lost that night.

He lost his entire family.

He was the only one who made it out alive.

There’s a crushing, cumbersome weight Solana feels in the back of her throat as well as the pit of her stomach. She knows better than most how devastating the loss of family can be, but to lose your entire immediate family in one night. As a child?

That’s a pain she can’t even imagine.

Roman makes a lot more sense now, his coldness, the constant aloof disposition. The way he always has his guard up. Beyond just his title as Tribal Chief. How can one not lose trust in most and all things with a loss like that?

How can one love after a loss like that?

Realizing her epiphany is unfolding behind the sales girl, Solana manages to murmur out a, “I’ll keep that in mind” before excusing herself. She just needs some space. Needs some—

“Solana?”

The woman in question is close to the entrance of the story when a voice, both new and familiar, calls her name, forcing her to turn around. And it’s when she does so that Solana realizes why it’s familiar.

“Dom?”

It’s been years since she’s seen him, and he looks both the same yet different. Facial hair that seems uneven and unconnected with a hairstyle to match, bangs almost entirely obscuring his bushy eyebrows. He’s dressed in all black, clothes draped over his still slim build. Once upon a time, she would grow nervous around him, insecure of herself in comparison to someone she thought was so much more attractive than he actually was. Now though, she just wants to pretend this unexpected encounter never happened.

“What are you—”

“Did you get bigger?”

And there it goes. One simple question asked with almost a hint of a mocking smile, Solana is briefly reverted back to those days of deep rooted insecurity. Where she’d hold her stomach in around him and always only order salad the few times he took her out.

For a second, she’s tempted to cross her arms, suddenly regretting the top that doesn’t entirely connect with her high waisted shorts, exposing a strip of skin.

“Damn. I really thought you would have gotten yourself together by now.” He scoffs, crossing his arms as he tilts his head. “You still not putting out? Cause your tits are actually not that—”

“Shut up.”

Solana isn’t sure who’s more surprised by her interruption. Him or her. Perhaps him, because his smile is dropped, replaced with an almost scowl.

“What the hell did you say to me, mami?”

But instead of cowering, instead of her anxiety growing at him, a man, moving closer to her. Trying to intimidate her. Solana doesn’t back down.

She doesn’t back down because she’s not scared.

Chin lifted, she keeps her voice firm and unwavering. “You don’t get to talk about me anymore. Not my weight. Not my body. None of it.” Seeing the shock in his eyes at her actually standing up for herself, not allowing him to talk down on her like he always would, makes Solana’s assertiveness that much more fulfilling. “Now leave me alone.”

She turns to walk away when she hears footsteps behind her. “Where do you think—”

Call it the result of her training or the fact that she’s still very much in her feelings and head about her heartbreaking realization regarding Roman, Solana hasn’t a clue just what leads her to spin around and connect her fist directly with Dom’s nose. However, as soon as she does it, sees him stumbling back into a rack, she slaps her hands over her mouth.

“Oh my….” But instead of apologizing, instead of feeling terrible for hitting another human being, she finds herself almost laughing. A shocked, amused smile hidden underneath her palms. Her first is hurting a bit, but that sting is dulled by the satisfaction of his dumbfounded facial expression.

It’s a bit short lived though as he straightens up and starts to stalk toward her. “What the hell? You crazy puta—”

“What the fuck did you just call her?”

Solana turns to see Bayley and Naomi. It’s hard to distinguish who looks more pissed. Who looks more ready to commit murder.

Naomi steps forward. “I know you did not just call her a bitch.” She turns to Bayley. “That’s what puta means in Spanish, right?”

“It sure does.” Bayley answers, coming to stand beside Solana. Protectively. “He called her a crazy bitch at that.” She scoffs, dressing him up and down. “Everyone knows you’re an idiot, Dom, but I didn’t think you were that stupid. Who the hell do you think you are talking to her like that?”

“He’s my ex.” Solana answers, partially unsure why she would let slip a piece of information that could only make the situation worse.

Naomi’s mouth drops open, one thumb gesturing to him. “Dirty Dumbass Dom is your ex?” Her eyes widen even more. “The one who said—oh hell no, Solana. We’re kicking his ass.”

Bayley lifts her hand, effectively stopping Naomi as she moves forward, no doubt ready to lay into him. Head tilted to the side, she smiles. “No….I have a much better idea.” Solana is understandably confused as Bayley tells Naomi, “I still have my stuff in my trunk.”

Naomi’s eyes light up. “Oh, this just got so much better.” She turns towards the sales associate who’s been watching everything unfold from a distance like it was a TikTok storytime. “Hold the items, please. We’ll be back in a little bit.”

Solana turns around to see the girl just give a thumbs up and shrug. “Do what you gotta do.”

Dom groaning in pain is what makes Solana turn her attention back to him, only to see him doubled over, holding his crotch as Naomi hits him in his back and starts guiding him out the store. “Get walking. Now.”

“I’m not going any—-” He cries out once again when Bayley kicks him in his face.

“Shut your bitch ass up!” She curses in Spanish, motioning for Solana to follow them. “Come on, girl.”

Confused but following suit, Solana asks, “what are we doing?”

Naomi answers with intentional vagueness. “Having a lil’ fun.”

Something tells Solana they have different definitions of fun.

But she remains silent as her two friends quite literally drag Dom out of the store, through the rest of the stores until they reach the parking lot. She’s again surprised when they take him over to Bayley’s car. She unlocks it and opens the trunk, pulling out a black bag that she hands to Solana. Solana starts to peek inside when something else catches her attention.

Bats.

Metal bats.

She has two. One of which she reaches to Solana.

“I—just what are we doing?”

Bayley’s smile is nothing but mischievous. “Having some fun.”

Naomi suddenly pulls out a knife and presses it to his throat. “Take us to your car. Now.”

Dom is quieter than she’s ever known him to be as he follows Naomi’s directive, leading them to his fancy pickup truck that Solana, even with her limited knowledge about cars, can tell is worth a pretty penny.

They make him unlock it to ensure it's actually his truck before Bayley starts to circle it. She nods, as if impressed. “Nice. Can tell you’ve put a bunch of upgrades in.” Solana’s mouth drops open as Bayley takes her key and slides it along the truck as she walks. “Might need a paint job though.”

“What the hell! You—” He’s silenced by Naomi kicking him in his back, forcing him to the ground, knife still pressed against his throat. “You’re all fucking crazy!”

That only makes Bayley smile as she directs Solana to lay the bag on the ground, bending over and pulling out a portable bluetooth speaker. It’s only when seeing the glitter, paint, and glue that Solana starts to put two and two together.

“Are we—”

“Uh huh.”

She gasps. “But, we can’t—-we…..” And suddenly, she’s trailing off, thoughts of all of the cruel, unkind things Dom would say to her, the way he would put her down, fat shame her, bringing her to tears. The memories help her tune to change a bit. “C—can we?”

Bayley stands up and places a hand on her shoulder. “Solana…..you are Solana fucking Reigns. Wife of Roman Reigns, the Tribal Chief, the Head of the Table.” Out of the corner of her eye, Solana can see Dom’s eyes go wide as saucers. He clearly wasn’t aware of this. Of her marriage. Of just who she calls husband these days. “You can do whatever the fuck you want.”

Bayley’s hype is effective as she pulls out her phone, connecting it to the Bluetooth speaker. A small smile falls on Solana’s face as she hears the familiar and oh-so fitting song.

Right now,

He's probably slow dancing with a bleach blonde tramp

And she's probably getting frisky

Right now,

He's probably buying her some fruity little drink

'Cause she can't shoot whiskey

Bayley gestures for Solana to move closer to the truck. “Your ex. First hit is yours.”

“Solana, wait, please. I—I didn’t know you were with him.” Dom’s pleading and begging is desperate and embarrassing. He looks like he’s on the verge of tears. “I’m—I’m sorry.”

Sorry.

For some reason, that word has never made her feel so irritated.

“No, you’re not.” And without a second of hesitation, she takes the bat and swings it against his passenger window, effectively shattering it. On the side, Bayley and Naomi cheer her on, Solana not even needing encouragement as she moves around to the other side, doing the same to the driver’s window.

Bayley howls out, “let’s fuckin’go!” She takes the bat and brings it against the rest of the truck, creating dents, scratches, and anything else that can desecrate what she’s sure makes up for other deficits.

Solana just took out the mirror on the passenger side when she hears Naomi aggressively yell at him not to ‘fucking move.” And Dom doesn’t, just watches helplessly as she moves over to the bag, pulling out the glue and glitter. She smirks in his direction, lifting the materials of destruction. “Time to glow, bitch.”

Solana laughs as Naomi rips open the door and starts pouring the deadly combination of glue and glitter all over the interior.

I dug my key into the side of his pretty

little suped up four wheel drive

Carved my name into his leather seats

Took a Louisville slugger to both headlights

Slashed a hole in all four tires

Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats

The ironic and iconic lyrics serve as a manual and guiding force for Solana as she catches the tossed keys from Bayley who’s on the hood of the truck going HAM on the roof with the metal bat. Solana finds herself feeling almost giddy as she effectively slashes all four of his tires.

This is the last thing she ever saw herself doing: completely destroying her ex’s car without a care in the world, but it’s also exactly what’s happening.

And she can’t even say that she feels any regret about it.

Doesn’t feel bad about it.

Why should she? He never felt bad about any of the shit he did to her.

And she especially doesn’t feel bad as she finds herself carving her name not only in his leather seats but the outside of the truck as well.

Naomi looks over at Dom who is now actually crying and laughs. “Look at it this way, Dom. We’re only doing this to your truck. Imagine what he’s going to do to you once he finds out what you did to his wife.” It brings her a great sense of satisfaction to see the terror in his eyes.

It also makes her send out the brief video she recorded of Bayley and Solana beating the shit out of the truck with bats to her group chat with the men.

Naomi: Just doing hot girl shit. 💅🏿

Their replies start coming in only minutes later.

Jimmy: Idk what’s going on, but I’m turned tf on.

Jey: Why ya’ll females always go after our cars and shit?

Roman: Why the fuck is it everytime you two take my wife out, it’s always some shit?

Roman: What the fuck is going on?

Naomi: Because you all asked so nicely 😐, turns out Solana used to date Dom back in the day.

Jimmy: Rey’s boy? The fuck? She too damn fine for that weasel. He could never handle all that ass.

Roman: One more time, Jimmy. Just one more time.

Jey: Naomi, please give us the rest of the story before Roman make your ass a widow.

Naomi: 🥴 Anyway, she told us some of the stuff he used to say to and about her, and honestly….even more trash than we thought.

Roman: Like?

Naomi: We promised Solana we wouldn’t say anything. Just know he was mean to her. So I guess she ran into him and he said some out of pocket shit, she got upset and PUNCHED him!!!!!!!

Jimmy: Soso HIT someone?!?

Naomi: Sure did!

Jey: Damn! Our Soso growing up on us!

Roman: I wanna know what the fuck he said to her.

Naomi: Ask her when you get home. 🙄

Naomi: So we’re fucking up his truck while he watches helplessly. 😊

Roman: The dead don’t need cars anyway.

Roman’s chilly response is both given and, in her opinion, well overdue. She’s never heard anything nice or good about Mysterio’s boy, so she can only imagine the full extent of what he put Solana through.

It’s why she’s mostly pleased by how Solana allows herself to let loose, to get her receipt. She deserves it.

As Solana and Bayley pour glitter in his gas tank, Naomi casually calls out, “what should we get to eat after this?”

________

“I committed assault and vandalism in one day. One.”

Roman smiles as he adjusts his tie, partially thankful his clearly distressed wife is unable to see his humored response to her frantic worrying.

“That bitch got what he deserved, Solana.” Part of it. But, Solana doesn’t need to know Roman absolutely plans on making sure she never has to run into that alelo ever again. No one will. “You shouldn’t feel bad.”

She really shouldn’t, because he can only imagine what was said to her, the treatment she received from that piece of shit. None of which she deserved. All of which makes him want to say fuck the gala and get straight to torturing the fucker.

Through the mirror attached to his dresser, he watches the bathroom door open, Solana stepping out, a robe only partially covering the length of her red dress. Leaning against the door, she crosses her arms, clearly in her head over what he partially wishes he could have been present for.

He would have taken the metal bats to Dom himself versus the truck.

But, he’s also him, and she is her.

Two very different people.

Roman moves across the room, pulling her against him as her hands lay on his chest. “You really mean to tell me you didn’t feel the least bit good at fucking his shit up?”

And he sees it, the way she’s fighting back the agreement. He reminds, hands moving to undo her robe. “You’re not ever required to be nice to people who are cruel to you, Solana. You owe them nothing.” She seems to be mulling over his words as he pushes her robe off her shoulders, watching it fall to the floor. “Fuck….” She always looks good, but there’s something about seeing her in the red, the way the dress hugs her curves, taunting him, testing his resolve, that has them wanting to ditch the gala for an entirely different reason. “God, you’re beautiful.”

Her smile is bashful, but he’s pleased to see her not look away, to maintain eye contact as she murmurs a quiet ‘thank you’. She gasps a bit, informing, “Oh, I noticed earlier you were running low on your medicine, so I called it in and picked it up for you.”

That takes him off guard. It was on his to-do list. Somewhere on there, he’s certain. But for her to go out of her way to take care of it for him, it makes him feel something he can’t really explain.

Solana’s smile dims a bit as she gently reminds, “you’ve gotta stay on top of that. It’s—it’s important, Roman.”

“Yeah…” It’s a response to her, but he’s still very much in his head over whatever this strange ass, yet somehow comforting feeling is. Fucking confusing ass shit. Clearing his throat, Roman forces himself to get his head back in the game. “Solana….” His tone is something different, something that makes her a bit nervous, that weighs down her previous smile even more.

She does her best not to reveal the alteration in her happiness level. But, she can just tell the mood is about to shift a bit. “Yes?”

To his credit, his hand moving in circles on the small of her back gives her a bit of comfort. Eases the weight of whatever he’s about to share. “Tonight..tonight I need to be on. Focused. The fucking annoying part about these things is that everyone’s there to see if they can seek out some type of soft point. Some kind of weakness.”

This confuses her. Soft point? That’s not an issue for Roman, and she points out as such. “But, but you have no weaknesses.”

Something flashes in his eyes and before she can say anything, not that she necessarily would, he’s back to explaining himself. “I don’t want you to think that I’m being cold with you. I’m not upset or avoiding you. I just—”

“You need to show them why you’re the Head of the Table.” His latter explanation provides the previously missing clarification. Reaching for his hand, she offers a gentle smile. “I understand.”

“Do you?” For a second, it almost sounds like there’s a sense of urgency to his tone. Like he needs to know that she knows it’s nothing personal against her.

And it’s not really until this moment that Solana realizes there are two sides to Roman Reigns. The side that she sees, the almost gentle, caring side. The man who always goes out of his way to ensure her comfort and safety at all times. The man who’s changed her life in ways he’ll probably never be able to fully understand.

Then there’s the other side. The side that makes his name alone strikes fear in even the strongest of men. The most violent. The most diabolical. A god among men.

Two completely different sides of the coin, but still a single coin.

This other side though, the side only she gets to see because it’s reserved for her. The side that might even be considered a form of vulnerability…..he only shows that with her, only shows it to her.

A….safe space, of sorts.

She is his safe space.

This second, or maybe third, major realization of the day only makes that love aspect so much more confusing. Though it makes her heart swell to know she can provide that for him. That she can be that for him.

Pulling from floating thoughts, Solana brings herself back to the conversation at hand. “I do.” She offers an explanation of her own. “I know I asked if you’ll stay with me the whole night, but—but, I don’t think I need that.” And before he can protest, she gives the valid reasons why. “I didn’t know Bayley and Naomi would be there. I’m fine with them. I just—I didn’t want to be alone in a room full of people I don’t know.”

“I would never leave you alone.” He brings his hand to the back of her neck, informing in a low voice. “I might not interact with you much, but that doesn’t mean I’m not watching.

“I know.” She cuts him off, again working to reassure him that he doesn’t need to be so focused on her. It’s clear there’s a task for the evening, a box that needs to be checked. And she doesn’t want to interfere in any sort of way. “I’ll be fine.” With a half smile, she reminds, “especially if there’s a bat nearby.”

A genuine smile grows on Roman’s face as he pulls her into him, Solana resting in his safe embrace. Being in his arms is starting to become one of her favorite things. “My fine ass, bat swinging wife.” She giggles against him as Roman drops his hand to her ass, giving a slap.

“Let’s go.”

________

The minute the SUV door opens and Roman climbs out first only to offer his hand as Solana steps out behind him, her gaze taking in the beautiful mansion that looks like something out of a movie premiere, her anxiety starts to rise. Taking in the scene around her, she’s met with an actual red carpet leading up the steps to the mansion that has large, glass, double doors with swirled marble intricate designs that match the stone of the building. There’s a line of cars both behind and in front of their SUV, indicating guests are still arriving.

That makes her feel at least a little bit better.

She didn’t want to make Roman late. Even if something tells her he wouldn’t care one way or the other.

It’s not missed upon her how he gives her hand an almost gentle squeeze and rubs his thumb over her knuckles all the while keeping his gaze up and focused. She sees how his light eyes subtly survey the perimeter as he leads them up the steps. She stills when two large men dressed in black suits wearing earpieces, guards clearly, stop them with a raised hand.

“Please walk through—-”

“Do I look fucking stupid?” Roman’s question needs no answer as he motions for Solana to walk ahead of him through the metal detectors that separate attendees from entering. Slowly, with a bit of anxiety at somehow setting them off even though there’s no way for her to, she does so without incident. Roman does the same looking every bit annoyed as he feels, but it makes her feel a bit better when he takes hand in his again.

“No weapons allowed.” Is all he says. Calmly. Simply. Without anything else. She nods, figuring as such, but a brief sideways glance at her husband, and she wonders how beneficial that actually is when he, himself, is a walking weapon.

She’s more than certain he’s killed before with his bare hands. Not a weapon needed.

Solana takes in the setting before her. Circular tables litter the first and second levels of the beautiful building, intricate, opulent centerpieces decorating each table. A live band plays some unfamiliar song as guests mingle about, many of which are admiring the various art pieces that occupy almost all of the walls. The lights are dimmed and the smell of lavender and honey penetrates, creating an almost calming atmosphere that starkly contrasts the fact that almost everyone in eyesight is a part of the crime underworld. Trained, brutal killers.

Including the man who continues to soothe his thumb across her knuckles.

“Come on.”

Solana stays close besides Roman as he leads them through the sea of people. Many of which, men primarily, seem to settle their gaze on her, her chest, only to travel up to see the man beside her and smartly redirect their attention literally anywhere else.

In some sort of strange way, that brings a sense of comfort to her. To know that just his presence wards off any and all unwanted attention. Makes her feel safer.

Then again, she’s not sure if any environment exists where Roman doesn’t make her feel safe.

She feels even better when she realizes where he’s led them. A table full of familiar, equally welcomed faces.

Bayley is the first to greet her. She stands up from the table, and Solana is in awe of her teal dress that hugs every curve beautifully. “You look fuckin amazing.” She reaches over, pulling Solana away from Roman and into a hug. “Aren’t you glad you went with this one?” She gestures down to the dress.

Solana laughs and nods. “Yes. I am.”

Naomi and Jimmy are also standing now, forming an almost line to hug Solana. Naomi pulls her in even tighter. “How's the fist?”

Solana gasps as Naomi laughs only for Jimmy to crack his little joke. “I made sure ain’t no bats around just in case you get upset again, sis.”

Allowing him to hug her, Solana rolls her eyes and murmurs, “that’s not happening ever again.”

“You might wanna watch your shit, Big Dog. Soso believe in breaking shit when she gets angry.”

Feeling a bit defenseless, she grasps at straws. “It was—it wasn’t like that.”

Jey scoffs, pointing out after downing some of his wine, “girl, we saw you on that video. You was swangin the hell out of that thing.”

Cheeks flushed, Solana sits down in the seat Roman has pulled out for her. Right next to him. Bayley on her other side. She looks over at Naomi. “I can’t believe you sent it to them.”

“Are you kidding? Our sweet little Solana beating the shit out of her ex’s car with a bat? That’s Kodak worthy.”

She rolls her eyes, eager to take the attention off herself as she notices Jey’s seat beside him is empty. “Is Nicki not coming?”

Naomi answers with a chuckle. “Girl, Nicki got banned years ago after she—”

Jey quickly jumps in, depriving Solana of a story she’s certain involved some type of altercation between him and his wife. Their marriage truly does not make any sense to her whatsoever. “Aye, we don’t need to rehash the past.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Naomi leans over and whispers, “I’ll tell you some other time.”

Solana hopes she follows through on that. Roman asks the twins something in Samona, the three of them starting a dialogue in a language only they can understand. And judging by the serious expressions on all of their faces, she surmises that it’s business related.

Especially when Solo and Paul join the table. It’s almost like the ladies don’t exist after that, but it doesn’t bother Solana. It can’t when Roman already made it clear what tonight would be like.

It’s nothing personal.

Just business.

Bored and kind of eager to explore what seems like one of a kind masterpieces, she turns to Bayley and asks, “can we go look at the art?”

Bayley scoffs. “Hell yeah.” Standing up and adjusting her dress, she remarks, “it’s better than sitting here doing nothing.” Glancing at Naomi, she asks, “you wanna come with us?”

Naomi sucks her teeth. “Girl, you don’t even have to ask.”

Solana smiles, grateful for their attendance and companionship.

Roman’s deep voice cuts through with a simple two word command. “Watch her.”

She looks back at him, offering a small smile she hopes will settle any concern he may have about her. He doesn’t need to worry about that. Just needs to focus on himself.

Linking arms with the other ladies, they move through the crowd, starting with the art near the entrance and making their way around. Solana seems to be the most intrigued by the pieces selected, trying to detect a theme in each one. Naomi and Bayley, however, seem to settle for a combination of roasting and admiring. More of the first than the latter.

“Oh fuck, I was hoping they didn’t show up.” Solana is in the midst of deciphering a piece of abstract art when Bayley’s almost steel exclamation pulls her from her focus.

Confused, she asks, “who?”

Naomi answers, subtly gesturing across the room. “Don’t stare. It’ll draw attention to us.”

Solana does her best, but it’s hard not to when she sees a set of new arrivals, most of which are absolute strangers, faces unseen prior to this very moment.

But one is not.

One is a face she saw, a person she spoke to, just days prior.

Brandi.

She’s holding hands with a tall man, striking blue eyes Solana can see from nearly across the room, bleached blonde hair that somehow compliments his tanned skin. There’s a boyish look about him that Solana would guess is a facade, something that deceives people, cleverly hiding the fact that he’s just as much a killer as the guests around them.

Before she can ask who he is though, Bayley offers introductions. “That is Cody Rhodes. And the pretty lady on his arm is his wife, Brandi.”

And just like that, Solana’s stomach drops. Her mouth feels dry. “Wife?” Solana looks back and forth between the couple. “Brandi is Cody’s wife?”

This just got a lot more confusing and complicated. The kind woman whose young daughter Solana ‘rescued’ is married to Roman’s greatest enemy? The man he hates most?

And suddenly Solana is thinking about her interaction with Solo after she mentioned Brandi’s name.

He knew.

So, why didn’t he say anything to her?

Why didn’t he say anything to Roman?

________

Roman ignoring Solana for the majority of the night ends up being a lot easier than she anticipated.

It’s quelled by the fact that she’s had one hell of a day, several major revelations clogging up her mental space.

Remembering what Roman told her about his family.

Trying to figure out if she’s in love with Roman.

Trying to figure out if Roman could ever love her.

Accidentally helping out his sworn enemy’s wife.

Her personal guard being aware of this last piece of information yet saying nothing to her or her husband.

Even though she’s sworn off alcohol after the last drunken disaster, there’s a burning temptation to walk over to the open bar and request something that can at least take the edge off.

Something to help her clear her head.

It’s after dinner, and Roman, Paul, and the twins are moving around, briefly speaking with various guests. Roman and Paul, in particular, seem to keep the conversations perfunctory before moving onto the next one. Clearly checking off certain, necessary boxes.

Solana again is viewing artwork, doing whatever she can to distract herself when someone unexpected comes up to her.

“Hey.” She looks to her side to see no one other than Solo. He looks almost….nervous. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Does she want to talk to him at this current moment in time? Not really. But, something tells her she needs to.

“Yes.”

Solo guides them to a corner that’s as close to secluded as they’re gonna get at the crowded event.

“Listen, I…..I wanted to apologize to you.”

Solana’s eyes widen. The surprises just keep coming. “Wh–what?”

“I know….I know I’ve been ass.” She wouldn’t necessarily use that word to describe his behavior and disposition, but it’s not exactly an inaccurate usage either. “It’s just….before you came around, I was just getting my chance to show Roman I deserve a seat at the table with him and my brothers. Then he assigns me to you, and I just feel like I’m not proving myself no more.”

Solana started to figure as such. Guessed that maybe he resented her to a certain extent because he’d essentially been assigned as her adult babysitter. That would probably annoy anyone.

“But, at the end of the day, Roman is the Tribal Chief. His word is final. I have to respect that.” He sighs, shrugging. “And as his wife, I gotta respect you too, which I ain’t been doing, so I apologize.”

Solana has never really been one to be on the receiving end of apologies from people. It’s still an uncomfortable experience as she murmurs an ‘it’s okay’ followed up with her question about his omission. “Why didn’t you tell me who Brandi was? Or tell Roman?”

He sighs loudly, voice lowering a bit as he explains his actions. “You’re new to the family, so you don’t know the history between Cody and Roman. Telling him would only kick off some shit. I figured if she came around again, then that I would tell you.” His explanation makes sense, Solana nodding slowly. He too doesn’t seem to want to upset Roman if possible. “I’m sorry for that too.”

She shakes her head. “No. I—I get it, and—I’m sorry, too, that you got stuck with me.”

Solo smiles a bit. The first time she’s ever seen him do so. It feels…..odd. “You ain’t so bad.” He then asks, brow lifted a bit. “So, we cool?”

Solana swallows. What reason does she have for them not to be at this point? Everything he’s said makes perfect sense. “Of course.” Offering a small smile, she says sincerely, “thank you, Solo.”

He nods, not saying anything else as he walks off.

Left alone, blowing out a big breath, she looks around. Solana spots the hall that leads to the ladies room. Making her way through the crowd, she walks in and goes into the first open stall. Relieving her bladder is an unexpected, small but significant enough type of relief. It feels similar to the peace she now has with the whole Solo situation.

Solana walks over to the sink, pumping some soap into her hands, activating the motion sensor to shut on the water as she rinses, watching the suds empty down the drain.

“Hey, sis.”

Solana’s head snaps up the second she’s met with the voice she hasn’t heard in months. Her brown eyes, through the mirror, locking with an almost identical set of brown. The only difference being the glimpse of emotion that’s always been unfamiliar to her but a resident friend of his.

Hate.

Solana moves as quickly as she can, but it’s not fast enough, because he’s got a fist full of her hair. Wes yanks her head back and shoves her away, providing him the access he needs to bring his hand across her face, backhanding her so hard that it makes her double over in pain.

Feeling an unfamiliar wetness, she feels her cheek, only to see blood on her fingertips. A glance at Wes' hand shows that the rings on his fingers must have cut her.

But she can’t focus on that too long because his hand is wrapped around her neck as he thrusts her against the adjacent wall, searing pain shooting across her back at the violent impact.

She claws at his iron grip, his dark eyes narrowing against her. So much hate. “You dumb slut, did you really think you could hide forever?” Her eyes shut, her mind screaming Roman’s name in a way her mouth cannot. “Were you stupid enough to believe he could protect you from me?” Solana winces as he tightens his grip. “You’re a weak, stupid bitch and you always will be.”

Weak

Slut

Stupid

Dumb

Bitch

All words that she’s heard before. Cruel names she’s been called over the years in conjunction with beatings. Beatings like this that have left her bloody and broken. Feeling empty. Feeling like every hurtful thing she’s ever been called. Feeling that weak adjective that he’s always made her defining trait.

Solana closes her eyes and starts to retreat to that mental place of superficial security, bracing for what’s sure to be a beating like no other. She tries to return to that spot in her brain that’s accepted that this is her reality, and there’s nothing she can do about it.

The only problem is that that place doesn’t exist anymore.

She can’t find it.

She doesn’t feel weak or dumb or stupid. Doesn’t feel helpless and victim to his sadism.

Not even in this moment with his hand wrapped tightly around her throat.

No….

She feels something else.

Something much stronger, powerful, fueling.

Anger.

She’s pissed the fuck off.

It’s when she sees his other hand pull out a knife, that for a second, a brief moment, she hesitates. She hesitates, momentarily paralyzed by the fear and trauma that single item has brought her over the past twenty years. But, she closes her eyes and centers herself, tapping back into months of training, of sparring, of fighting.

Snarling almost, her rage and determination growing synchronously, Solana lifts up her leg with all the force she can muster, her knee coming into direct impact with Wes’s crotch area. Instantly, he releases her, dubbed over, groaning and cursing. Solana’s a bit lightheaded, but she powers through it, quickly grabbing the vase of flowers on the counter and swinging it with all her might over his head.

“Fuck!” He grunts, falling to the ground, his knife tumbling across the intricately designed tile flooring.

Rushing to grab it, he does the same, but she manages to outpace him. Her speed gives her the upperhand. And with a cry of her own, she slams it down directly into the palm of his outreaching hand.

Wes howls in pain as she rips it out and kicks him in his side, watching as he tumbles onto his back. Solana slams her heel down on his other arm, pinning it and forcing the knife through his right hand this time.

He cries out again and she backs away for a second, tempted to drive it through another part of him when he growls with all the rage and pain, “I’m gonna fucking kill you, you bitch!”

His threat, unlike countless times before, doesn’t frighten her, doesn’t make her tremble and cower in fear.

It just pisses her off even more.

“Come on.” Solana motions for him to come at her, for him to climb off the ground and fight her. “Come on!” Using the bloody knife, she takes and slices it across her dress, allowing her more freedom and fluidity with her movements. Kicking the material to the side, she crouches down, egging him on. “Hit me, you son of a bitch!”

Finally to his feet, Solana sees him ready to charge at her. Her eyes never leave him, studying every single movement of his bleeding body. And just when he’s about to slam into her, she jumps to the side, watching him slam into the wall. Solana doesn’t waste a single second as she rushes behind him, lifts her leg and kicks him in the head, intentionally trying to drive her heel into his neck. His shouts of pain further her drive as she drops her leg, snatches him by his hair and slams the knife down into his shoulder.

She jumps back as his body plops to the ground again, Wes rolling over and writhing in pain, profusely bleeding from several parts of his body, black suit staining dark, bloody red. Solana moves toward him, utilizing every bit of strength coursing through her body as she lands brutal kick after kick into his side, intentionally aiming for his chest. A kick for every broken bone, every bruise, every cut, every burn, every time he waterboarded her to the point where she was unconscious. Every fucking thing. She only stops when she hears the satisfying crack of one or several of his ribs.

But, it’s not enough. It’s not enough because all she can think about now is all the times he made her bleed, made her scream, made her flail with fear and terror. It’s his turn now.

Kicking off her heels, she grabs him by the collar of his suit jacket. “Come here, you bastard.” He’s heavy, and it’s a strain to drag him, but she does just that, pulling him into one of the stalls. Solana shoves the back of his head into the toilet and holds him down face first into the water.

Wes flails against her, but her grip is just like her spirit. Strong and unrelenting.

“How does that feel?” She taunts, tears streaming down her face because as vindicating as this moment is, it still doesn’t strip away the pain of years of abuse and torture. Yanking his head back, pleased by the way he coughs violently, gasping for air, she continues to mock him with the same taunts he always threw her way. “Say something, bitch!” Solana slams his head back down into the water. Repeating the same act of torture he utilized on her for years.

She does it until she feels her strength starting to wane, eventually releasing his clumped body down as she backs away, leaning against the counter.

Chest moving up and down from her heavy breathing, exhaust settling in as adrenaline fades out, it’s only then she turns to look at her reflection in the mirror. Face reddened, hair disheveled, red dress stained with his blood splatter, a mixture of her blood from the cut that probably wont need anything more than a liquid bandaid, and tears running down her cheek, yet she’s never felt fucking better.

This….this is liberation.

It’s freedom from shackles of fear.

Fear of the one person she never thought she wouldn’t be terrified of. And yet, that same source of so much heartache lies before her: bloody, bruised, broken.

All because of her.

Commotion outside the door and banging against it alerts her to the fact that somebody has clearly caught onto her absence. Roman, most likely.

Body suddenly very heavy, she moves over to the door, leaning back against it, eyes landing on Wes who’s coughing up blood. For a brief second, she feels a sliver of sadness, if guilt. But just as quickly as it’s there, it’s knocked out the way, replaced with pride. Roman’s words from earlier in the night returning and cementing her satisfaction.

“You’re not ever required to be nice to people who are cruel to you, Solana. You owe them nothing.”

And fewer have been crueler than the man before her.

Voice and body trembling from the weight of it all, Solana affirms with all the emotion and sincerity through her body. “I am not scared of you anymore.” She turns the lock, stepping out of the way to avoid the avalanche of bodies about to enter. “And I never will be again.”

Sure enough, it sounds like a stampede. Solana closes her eyes, stealing a moment to rest and relish in her inner peace.

“Solana.”

His voice is urgent and pressured, and seconds later, he has her in his arms, holding her against him. She breathes in his scent, comforted by his arms around her.

“I’m fine.” She knows he needs to hear it, needs to hear the words come from her mouth. Even if she knows she probably looks anything but, clothes and body splashed with her brother’s blood.

“Solo!” Roman’s voice is filled with unbridled rage that, any other time, she’d probably tremble at. But, in this moment, it’s valid as hell. And beyond that, she knows without a doubt now that he would never make her the object of his anger. “Pick him up!”

Solana sets her gaze on a barely conscious Wes as Solo drags him out of the stall.

Jimmy and Jey being present, Roman’s fury, and Solo holding him in position are all the things that alert her to what’s about to happen.

Jimmy whistles, taking in Wes' battered appearance. “Damn, she beat the hell out of you!”

“No.” Solana says it too quietly, too softly. She has to place her hand on Roman’s chest to get his eyes back on her. “No.”

“I don’t want you to kill him.” And before Roman can protest, ask her if she’s lost her fucking mind, she steps toward Wes, explaining to all parties but directing her wishes to him. “I want him to live in fear….to know what that’s like.” Eyes burning with a fresh set of tears, she emphasizes. “It’s his turn to be scared.” Head tilted, scoffing a bit at how pathetic he looks, she mocks him one last time, “who’s the bitch now?”

Without even thinking about it, Solana lifts her hand and connects her fist directly with the side of his jaw, knocking him out cold.

“Goddamn!” Jey shouts with all the amusement in the world as Roman pulls her back into him, lips pressed against her temple.

“I’m okay,” she reiterates, holding onto his sleeve. “I promise.” She is. Maybe better than she’s been in some time.

Better than she’s ever been.

Roman steps back for a second and slides his jacket off, placing it around her.

Solana reaches for his hand and gestures for the door. “Let’s go.” He still looks so angry, so furious, but she knows it’s not toward her. Nevertheless, he doesn’t need to stay in this headspace. Not with his high blood pressure. Not with his health at stake.

Roman says something to Solo in Samoan and begins to guide her out of the bathroom that’s been completely destroyed in the fight. A crowd of most of the guests has gathered around, clearly curious and wanting to know just what the hell happened. It’s fair and almost expected.

But, despite looking like everything she’s just been through, Solana doesn’t shy away from the stares and whispers. Doesn’t necessarily care. Because as ironic as it is, this might be the most confident she’s ever felt in her life.

But, it’s when she sees Cody and Brandi that Solana just knows something is about to go wrong.

Cody smirks, calling out loud enough for all to hear, Roman especially. “I guess women and children aren’t off limits after all.”

There’s more to it. There has to be more to it, because the second Roman rips his hand away from Solana and charges at Rhodes seems to take even the instigator off guard. Instantly, Jimmy and Jey are rushing toward their cousin as he lands a blow against Rhodes that sends him flat on his ass.

“Roman!” She calls out after him, moving in his direction, only to feel herself being restrained. She looks back and catches Bayley and Naomi looking with worried expressions.

“We need to get out of here!” Naomi urges, but Solana can’t seem to look away from what’s turned into an all out brawl. Jimmy and Jey struggle to hold back their irate cousin as he spits venom against Rhodes who looks just as pissed off now, blood running from his nose.

“I’m the head of the table!”

“I’ll whoop everybody’s ass around here!”

“This is my kingdom, you little bitch!”

“I can’t just leave him!” Solana pleads, trying to pull away from Bayley who clearly has no intentions on letting her go.

“He’ll be fine, Solana. But, he’s pissed the fuck off, and now Rhodes is pissed, and it’s about to be a shitshow that if he was thinking straight, he would never want you around.” Naomi explains and adds on, “the twins won’t let anything happen. I promise you that. Now let’s go.”

And despite everything in her screaming not to, to stay with him, to somehow find a way to help him calm down, there’s a logical part of her that knows the girls are right.

Even with him clearfly only seeing red as she continues to shout at Cody, the other man also being held back, barely, by his men.

“There ain’t a man alive who can touch my button. If I had one, you wouldn’t be able to locate it. Can’t no man knock me out! I’m tired of being humble! I’m tired of letting people think they got a chance! The Tribal Chief is heads and shoulders above everybody! I run this all!”

Roman is almost a different person, so consumed by his rage, no doubt most of it because of Wes, Cody just being on the receiving end but not just taking it without responding with threats of his own.

“Time and place, you narcissistic son of a bitch!”

“Not everyone is fucking scared of you, Reigns!”

“I’ll fight you any fucking day!”

Solana’s eyes briefly lock with Brandi who’s also being rushed away, and she swears, she sees what looks like an almost sympathetic expression. Like if she could, she’d apologize.

It makes Solana frown.

Naomi pulls on her again. “Let’s go, Solana.”

Security for the gala is now rushing over as some of Roman and Cody’s men are now throwing fists as well. Solana hates this. Hates how this has all played out. But, she also knows that she does nothing to help the situation by hanging around and risking getting hurt.

That’ll only upset Roman more.

So even with a tremendous amount of apprehension, she allows them to guide her out, never once not thinking about the man she’s almost certain she more than cares about at this point.

________

Solana is up and alert the minute she hears him enter their front door. In the living room, lying on the sofa, her go-to spot when waiting for his arrival, she partially expects him to walk in and meet her. The way he has several times before now, but this time is different.

Heavy footsteps don’t bring him to meet her. They instead carry him past the living room, through the kitchen, and outside the backdoor.

Instantly, she’s sitting up.

She goes to follow him when Jimmy and Jey enter the house looking every bit the night that they’ve all had.

It’s a stupid question, and she knows as such, but she can’t help but ask. “How is he?”

Jimmy is the one to answer, blowing out a breath. “Honestly? Still pretty pissed but calm enough to come back home.” He then shares, “I tried to get him to sleep it off at my place, but he wanted to come back here.

Good. Solana doesn’t say it, but she sure is thinking it. Not even from the perspective of her being uncomfortable being in this big house all by herself with just Dulce. That’s maybe a part of it, sure. But, the biggest thing is that this is their home. And if he needs something, she wants to be there to help him with whatever that is.

“It’s okay. I can watch him.”

“Solana….” Jey cuts in, stuffing his hands in his suit pocket. “You know he would never hurt you, right? I know he was definitely on one tonight, but—”

Seeing where this is going, she cuts in, calm but firm. “I’m not scared of him. I—I know he would never hurt me.”

They seem to be pleased by her answer but still a bit hesitant, Jimmy offering, “if you want, I can stay over tonight. Make sure—”

“He’s my husband.” She swallows, nothing unwavering about her reiteration. “I’ve got him.”

Jimmy and Jey still look unsure but follow her wishes. Each giving her a hug before reiterating to call them if she needs anything. She’s thankful for their support but mostly their making sure Roman made it back home safely.

Solana carries Dulce up to her shared room with Roman and closes the door to avoid any unnecessary interruptions. It’s only then she finally makes her way back downstairs, venturing through the living room and kitchen to the backdoor. Hand on the knob, Solana doesn’t hesitate to turn it, bringing her to the man she’s had on her mind nonstop the past few hours.

Roman’s hulking figure is plopped down on the edge of the patio chaise lounge. His button down shirt is discarded, his muscles stretching against the cotton of his white undershirt. Playing with the sides of one of his shirts she threw on after her shower, Solana sees there’s no need to announce her presence.

He’s already aware.

With calmness that contrasts his demeanor just hours earlier, he advises, “you should be asleep.”

His voice is hoarse, heavy, weighed down with something he seems keen on internalizing. No matter how much it wrecks him on the inside. It brings a frown to her face and a pain to her chest.

Swallowing, Solana moves closer to him, calmly countering, “you know I won’t sleep until I know you’re okay.”

“Okay….” Roman chuckles, and it’s almost bitter. An almost ironic tone as he repeats her chosen word. “Solana, nothing about tonight was okay.”

Her heart grows even heavier than it’s been following tonight’s events.

It tears Solana up to see him in this state. To see and almost feel his turmoil and not be able to do anything about it. Because he doesn’t want help. Because he’s so used to handling everything on his own, as he’s stated to her multiple times before.

But, that’s the thing. He’s not alone.

She just needs to get him to see and understand that.

Setting aside any reservations and trepidation about her next steps, she closes the distance between them, kneeling down on the patio stone directly in front of him. Naturally, his eyes lock with hers, and for a second, she sees a tremble of his nearly impenetrable wall. “Roman….” One hand on his knee, the other reaching to grab his hand. “Please….please talk to me.” His eyes briefly dart away, a sign of her words doing something to his resolve. “Whatever….whatever happened tonight, let me help you work through it.”

He sets his focus back on her, the hand under hers lifting to cup her face, thumb ghosting over the cut she cleaned, tended, and sealed with a liquid band-aid. “You got hurt tonight….”

“I don’t care about that.” Her dismissal is aggressive but slides into something soothing almost as she reiterates. “I—I care about you.”

His jaw clenches. “I lost my temper tonight.”

“I don’t care about that either.” Again, she’s dismissive, pushing aside anything that could prevent him from hearing her right now. Really hearing her. “I wasn’t scared of you. I’m—I’m never scared of you, Roman.” Swallowing, she stands up and moves herself on his lap, relieved when he wraps his arms around her. “But…I was scared for you.” She pushes back some of his hair that came out of his always neat bun during the brawl. “I just….I wish you would talk to me.”

But, she also knows that she can’t force it. Can’t make him. Even though it physically aches her to know he’s dealing with so much and won’t let her help.

Won’t let her be there for him the same way he’s been there for her.

“Cody and I grew up together. We were….good friends.” Solana isn’t sure she’s still breathing as Roman begins to explain in a low voice, his hand moving soft circles against her side. She says and does nothing, not wanting to do anything to risk deterring him from this rare occurrence of vulnerability. “We…we bonded over being groomed to take over our families legacies. His…his father was good friends with mine.”

Friends….

It feels almost impossible to imagine Roman and Cody as ever being anything more than sworn enemies. She’s not sure she’s even seen a deeper level of hatred than what she saw in their eyes tonight.

“It was my 10th birthday. We were gathered at the house to celebrate, and it was fine, until it wasn’t.” Roman grows quiet, as he clearly hesitates. She starts to tell him that he doesn’t have to, that she doesn’t want to trigger him. But, he continues. “I don’t remember everything. Just the sound of bullets, screams, and then heat from the fire that someone set.” Fire… Solana’s eyes naturally drop to his tatted arm, tribal ink covering burns he clearly received that night of pure hell. Eyes watering, she continues to listen to him relive what sounds like a night of horror. “I was the only one who survived. My parents, my aunt, uncle, and my seven brothers and sisters were all killed.”

“Oh my god….” Her heart literally breaks in that moment, hearing him confirm what she’d remembered just earlier in the day but didn’t want to actually believe. It’s just too devastating. To lose his entire family in that manner, all while celebrating his birthday of all days….it seems inconceivable.

Solana isn’t sure she’s ever felt this much sympathy towards another human being.

Roman’s voice, however, never wavers. She can see he’s doing his best to simply recall and not feel. “And it wasn’t until I was 14 that a mutual friend of ours at the time, Seth, let it slip while he was in one of his manic states, that I should talk to Cody about what really happened that night.” His voice takes on a darker, angrier tone, and she can feel him shift underneath her. “So, I did, and I found out….that his father was responsible for the hit. That he betrayed my father. And that Cody knew the whole fucking time.”

There’s understandable anger in his words. Anger at such cruel betrayal. “For four fucking years, he pretended to be my friend. Pretended like he didn’t fucking know that his father was the reason my family was all dead.” His voice dips into something low, something much darker. “I can’t tell you…much after that, because I was so angry that all I saw was my rage.”

Solana brings her hand to his chest, a comforting placement, though she’s not certain anything could comfort this level of trauma.

His expression is blank as he shares coldly. “I killed them all. His parents. His siblings. Everyone. I left him the same way his father left me: alone.” He swallows thickly, still not looking at her. “I told you before, Solana. I’m not a good man.”

“That’s not true.” She finally speaks, voice hoarse, eyes watering at the truth of it all. She had no idea he’d been through so much. Lost so much more. “I don’t think I’ve met a man better than you, Roman.”

She’s never met any man like Roman.

Moving her hands to cup his face, it settles her a bit that he’s finally looking at her again. Closed off and back to being unreadable, it’s still eye contact. And she’ll take it. She’ll take whatever she can get from him. “No one….no one can know what it’s like to lose like we’ve lost. I….I get you. And….and I think you get me too.” Sniffling, she shakes her head, never wanting to invalidate his experience. “And no, I know….I know it’s not the same, but what I do know is that I haven’t felt alone since…since being with you.” She hasn’t felt a lot of things since being with him. Hasn’t felt the same amount of depression and emptiness. Just happiness and joy. “And I don’t want you to feel alone either, because….because you have me, and….and I’m not going anywhere.” Her tone drops into a soft whisper. “Haría cualquier cosa por ti.”

Because I love you.

But, that can’t be stated. Not aloud. Not right now. Maybe not ever. It’s not what he needs. Because it’s for selfish reasons. Because it would make her feel better to verbalize what she’s finally realized what she’s been feeling towards him. What she feels for him.

Love

“Besides….” She offers a small smile, messing with his beard, knowing the weight of this conversation might be too much for him, offering him a bit of a detour. “Who else is gonna bail me out the next time I fuck up someone’s truck?”

He cracks a small smile, and it makes her heart swell. It’s the best thing she’s seen all day. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you cuss.”

Relieved to hear a growing lightness in his voice, she buries her head in the crook of his neck, murmuring, “guess you’re rubbing off on me….”

Roman brings his hand to her hip, tugging her closer, kissing her temple. Lips pressed against her forehead, he murmurs. “I’m proud of you.” That means so much to her. His approval. “Cause while I hate to agree with my dumbass cousin, Jimmy was right. You whooped his ass.”

Solana can’t help it. She laughs into his chest, looking up while biting down on her bottom lip. Voice quiet, she expresses both a question and agreement. “I did, didn’t I?”

He rolls his eyes but nods, bringing his hand to her cheek, thumb and index finger lightly cupping her chin. “Sure did, baby…“ He doesn’t say anything after that. He doesn’t need to. Neither does she. She just nestles closer to him as he stands up, still holding her, grip protective and firm.

Like he has no intentions of letting go.

Solana prays he never does.

Because while Roman Reigns is the last person she ever expected to end up with, to care for, to love…..that’s exactly what’s happened.

That’s exactly who she’s with.

Exactly who she cares for.

And exactly who she loves.

________

Xavier stands in front of the hospital bed, a hospital bed he was still in days prior, where his son stood before him as they schemed together to create what he thought was a foolproof plan. It’s a plan, however, that didn’t go the way he intended.

Far from it.

Wesley was always supposed to attack Solana in the bathroom, was supposed to rough her up a bit to see if Reigns would come to her rescue, the prediction being he’d move to kill Wes but Solana would interfere, would stop him.

Because his stupid second born has always been a victim to her love mentality. Would be blinded by whatever fruitless hope she still has that some part of him or his son loves her. Because they’re family.

But, that didn’t happen.

His son attacked her, yes, but the bitch fought back.

And now he watches helplessly as a brutally beaten, stabbed Wesley is laid up in the ICU yet again, but this time in a coma. Limited brain activity.

Prognosis….not well.

And it’s all because of her.

Xavier is a prideful man, but even he can admit he never saw this coming. Never anticipated Reigns would have the girl trained, never thought his weak ass daughter could be capable of something like this.

Capable of almost taking away his son. His heir.

Xavier is seething and would shoot her dead right now if he could, but he has to be smart. Especially after tonight, which wasn’t an entire loss.

He snatches his phone, sending out a text.

Xavier: I want that bitch DEAD.

Xavier: We’ll proceed with the plan.

Because while most will see Roman’s outburst as expected given Cody Rhodes was present and almost everyone knows the history there, Xavier knows better.

Xavier knows that Roman’s rage was primarily at the fact that Solana had been attacked, confirming what he suspected.

And he’ll give the bastard credit. From what he heard, Reigns did a great job masking his feelings for her, practically ignoring Solana the entire night.

Never showing his hand.

But, he did.

He does care for her.

And just that thought brings a wicked smile to Xavier’s aged face.

After all these years, the impossible has happened.

Roman Reigns finally has a weakness.

________

translation: "i'd do anything for you."

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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s0mb0d7 · 4 months ago

Note

hey bsff, so baysically, i was wondering if you could do an octavian or frank x daughter of bacchus!reader? 🤗

orr maybe octavian with dionysus’ responsible daughter whose basically chiron’s right hand at camp halfblood

im gonna do the second one cause it has a starting point but thank you for the submission!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

sneak

octavian x dionysus!reader

"me? sneak out with you? fine."

warning: heavy makeout sesh, sneaking out, cursing, octavian.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it wasnt new to you, to be sneaking out to see him.

after you forced nico di angelo to shadow travel you to the usual meetup spot; this 1980s abandoned mall in kansas. after every trip you gave him access to the wine cellar to "re-energize", as he would call it.

you would wait in the lobby of the mall, observing how it looked like everyone just dropped what they were doing and ran out. the shops and cafes still filled with product. shirts, dresses, shoes and other clothing out for display on the unnerving mannequins that heads looked like they followed you as you moved.

"can i have the key to the cellar?" nicos voice snapped you back to reality, as he stood in front of the bench you sat on. he had his usual aviators jacket on, with those stupid black skinny jeans and his messy black hair. he twisted the skull ring on his finger, clearly nervous to ask.

"yeah, here," you said handing him the key chain. "could you pick me up in like.. four hours? and dont lose that key my dad would turn me into a shrub. again." a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"you bet. and be safe, okay? i dont wanna shadow travel a screaming baby, too." he joked.. hopefully. you waved goodbye, and watched him run into the shadows and disappear.

you prayed to all the gods that this trip would be successful again. last time chiron found out his right hand man had been sneaking out to see a roman, he wasnt too happy. and when he told your dad.. that was the first time you were turned to a shrub.

you leaned back, supporting yourself on your arms, just spacing out thinking how this mall used to be crowded with family's and teens who stole their parents money. living in the 80s was always you dream.

a door shut on the far side of the wide hall, which was lined with shops. you ran behind a corner until you heard the codeword yelled.

"pillow pet murder is here, im not the police." his voice rang. you came out from behind the corner and saw the scrawny, pale boy. his piercing blue eyes that usually showed little life lit up when he saw you.

you quickly walked up to him and threw your arms around his neck. you hadn't seen the blondie augur in a few weeks, and it was making you wanna rip your hair out. whenever your brother, pollux, would ask why you were constantly fidgeting and tapping your feet rapidly, you would just start tweaking. "uhh.. i- um.. i dunno!"

"i missed you." he suddenly spoke, his face buried in your neck. the boys voice was raspy, breaking even. either he had been yelling and screaming, or was very emotional after finally getting to see you. probably the yelling one though.

"i would hope so," you answered in a fake annoyed voice, which you felt him frown against your neck. "but i missed you too, even though it goes without saying."

he placed a soft kiss on your neck below your ear, which made you shiver. he met your eyes, leaning closer with a curious spark in his expression. you thought he was gonna just stay there and stare at you, until he smashed his lips into yours, which hurt a bit.

immediately kissing back, you almost fell because of how much the scrawny boy leaned into you. your mouths moved in sync, teeth knocking together as your tongues danced with each other.

the boy moved the two of you to the nearest wall, which you tripped trying to get there. thank the gods for his quick reflexes, falling on the tiled, disgusting floor was not your cup of tea.

never breaking the kiss, you both made it to the wall which was right next to a ice cream shop, "scoops ahoy". it gave of weird vibes, but you thought nothing of it. octavian's hands crept to the waist of your jeans, slipping the tips of his fingers past, onto your bare skin.

something in your head screamed. not anything in particular, but the scream was very pleasurable, as it sounded. maybe he could get you to make that sound too...

your hands crept from his neck to the small of his back, sliding up his shirt. when he helped you get it off, you might as well have just burst into flames. your mouths parted, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips still.

"fuck, y/n. you got a lot better at kissing. you practice on someone?" he asked, breaking the heavy silence.

your eyes were glued to his abdomen. for such a skinny boy, he had a mean 6-pack. from the quick glance you got at your old-fashioned watch you borrowed from a store at this mall, you had 3 hours left. wish it was more, dont you?

"no, havent even thought of anyone but you." you answered after a good 30 seconds of awkward silence. he crept closer, his arms creeping around your waist until suddenly, you felt a grab on your ass.

every time. he does this every time. the air gets thick, the silence suddenly isn't so comforting, and he always grabs your ass. your convinced he loves it more then you, the way his sharp blue eyes always creep down below your waist . "my eyes are up here." you would speak whenever you caught him staring.

he let go and apologized, giving you a real hug and a tender kiss. you both walked over to the bench you had been sitting on before he came and talked for hours on end. there was a glass roof high above the two of you, so you got to geek out and name all the constellations you say and explain there backstories. the two you loved the most were gemini, because of your brothers, and the huntress, in honor of nicos sister and her friend.

"i really hope the legions dont hate me for loving a greek." he brought up out of nowhere. you weren't ashamed of being greek, you loved it. but you always worried the future you and octavian had planned in new rome wouldnt work out. but it would, because if percy and annabeth could go to college and settle down for a future there, then surely you and octavian could.

you planted a kiss on his cheek "they got used to two greeks in their city, surely they can handle another. i promise i will do everything i can to get them to like me. you wont be hated, octavian."

he smiled, then when the two of you saw sonething sprint out of the shadows, your heads whipped around.

nico and hazel. your "rides" back to the separate camps. had that much time passed already? the two children of the underworld were laughing and talking, until they turned their attention to you and octavian. his shirt off and hand on your thigh, your messy hair and unbuttoned jeans.

"time to go." the son of hades spoke. he had obviously been drinking, but you didn't blame him. that much high-quality wine couldn't be resisted by anyone.

octavian got his discarded shirt from the entrance to that ice cream place. it was definitely stranger then most things at that mall. the two of you kissed goodbye and went your separate ways. him and hazel left the building as you and nico stayed in the same spot.

he led you to a shadow, then you linked hands. "ready?" he asked

"yep."

"oh, and by the way your dad and chiron are pissed." he blurted out before you faded into darkness with the boy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this is the new layout for fics/hcs, and i changed/will be updating older layouts. comment if you like it or if you like the old layout!!

leave requests and i will do them as quick as i can. please say if you want a hcs list or just a normal fic. love you all! <3

(i deeply apologize for the paragraph of octavians ass obsession...)

#x reader #octavian x reader #octavian #pjo hoo toa #pjo #hoo fandom #hoo #spqr #nico diangelo #hazel levesque #child of dionysus #dionysus #80s

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more-cardigan-than-woman · 8 months ago

Text

Coveted

Summary: You and your bestie go out to celebrate her divorce, unfortunately you just happen to stumble into the bar of the guy youve only been on three dates with, Roman Sionis.

Reader x Roman Sionis

1.8k

Warnings: SMUT, binding, swearing, couch fucking

The lights of the club are blinding, the music is loud and the crowd is like a swarm of bees trying to cram their way through the door.

You'd rather be anywhere else. But it's not everyday your bestie gets divorced and this is where she wanted to go. So, you strapped on your heels and your prettiest dress and now you're standing right inside the club.

Deep breath, deep breath. You can do this. Karlie wraps her arm through yours, squealing a little bit as the security guard ushers you out of the doorway. “So, is your mystery man coming tonight?” She leans in, sounding excited.

“I hope not.” You mumble, but she's not paying attention anyway, “tonight's about you babe!” You squeal successfully distracting her, “let's go have some fun.”

“Lets!” She giggles, “I wanna find the youngest, hottest idiot and fuck his brains out.”

“Kay, babe. I'll keep an eye out.”

The night seems to be going well. Karlie is getting a bit tipsy but with you constantly feeding her glasses of water in between drinks she keeps her head on her shoulders.

You dance and drink together. All the while your eyes scan the room, over and over. He told you he owned a club, but this can't be it. It's way too flashy and every time you've met him it's been very low-key.

Maybe you're mistaken? After all, you've been here nearly 2 hours and haven't seen him. It must be a different club. Maybe one of those classy ass cigar lounges, dude did look like he was rolling in it.

A young man approaches your table, his red curly hair flowing just past his shoulders and his crisp white shirt is hugging at his sides.

“That's the one,” Karlie shouts, “Wish me luck,” she mouths to you, jumping from her seat almost immediately and leading the man to the dance floor. You laugh at her enthusiasm.

You watch her dance and then make out with the man. Your drink resting in your hand. You're almost about to leave her to it when you notice someone approaching the booth.

“Come with me, miss.” The large woman orders you.

“I was just leaving.”

“Come with me miss,” she repeats, “now please.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really,” she shrugs, “sorry.”

She walks you up a flight of stairs and into a darkened room. “Where are we going?” you ask, but the woman ignores you, opening the heavy metal door. All you see is the blue lights that seem to be hidden under the walls and a dark figure sitting on the lounge at the back. You take a step inside and begin to panic when you hear the door click shut behind you.

“Ummm, ma'am,” you turn trying to open the locked door, “ma'am what is this? Ma'am?”

You hear the click of expensive shoes behind you. Approaching slowing from the back of the room, gods you’re so fucked.

You turn, knowing that there's no real escape here and are suddenly met with a pair of eyes that you recognise. “Roman?”

“Hello darling.” His soft gloved hand gently takes hold of your chin as he steps closer, “did you come here just to tempt me?”

“No, i- my friend, she-”

“is firmly distracted by my man.”

“Roman, I should get back to her.”

“She,” he leans forward, his breath a tingle on your ear, “will be taken good care of tonight, my darling. I want you all to myself.” his arm wraps around your waist pulling you closer, “I feel like you've been teasing me all night.”

“I didn't even know you were here.”

“That's worse.” His teeth sink into your neck and his tongue licks at you, “I knew you were here the moment you hit my sidewalk.” his gloves slip up your dress, searching for the zip, “and you have been teasing me ever since.”

“If I had known you were watching me,” your fingers move fast to the buttons of his shirt, “I would've been naughtier.”

“You were plenty naughty,” he spins you, fed up with his struggle to find your zip. He rips it open with force but his hands are slow while he peals it from your shoulders, his lips chasing the fabric. “Sitting so quietly, ignoring my attempts to get your attention.”

“I didn't do it on purpose.” You smile, knowing he can't see it.

“And if you had?”

“I would've found something to get me in more trouble.”

“Do you enjoy punishment, darling?”

i“Hmm. With you?” You arch back, pushing your ass into his groin, “I think I could find it very enjoyable.”

“Let's get to it then, darling.” He lifts you from behind, carrying you over the room and throwing you into the couch, “ass over the arm.”

“And if I don't?”

He laughs, “please, by all means Resist darling. It makes it way more fun for me.”

You start to squirm, but Romans strong hands have a tight hold for you. His knees press your legs open as his hand around your hair pushes your face into the couch cushions.

“Stop squirming.” His fingers tighten on your hair, pulling your hair back.

“Fucking hell, Romie.” You pant, your ass lifting up in the air as your tummy curves down and your back is beautifully arched.

“You look perfect like this,” he groans into your ear, his free hand making quick work of your panties and then his belt.

You smirk at him over your shoulder. sliding yourself off the couch and moving to get up. “Can't punish what you can't catch.”

“Oh, pretty girl.” His voice is low and dangerous, “I’ve already caught you.” His gloved hand wraps around the back of your throat stopping you in your tracks. His other hand sliding up and under the remains of your dress, “and I know you don't wanna run from me.”

You shiver in his arms, and he chuckles, wrapping the expensive leather of his belt over your wrists and pinning them to your back.

“Get on the couch,” he presses you forward, his knees kicking yours up and pushing you down into the cushions, “stay right there,” he orders you and you wiggle a sad attempt at pretending to fight.

“What will you do with me?” Your whine turns into a moan as he tears off the remnants of your dress and lands a hard slap on your pussy.

“Teach you what I do to pretty girls who tease me.” He slaps you again. Then his strong fingers are ripping at the seams of your panties and you hear him inhale. “what a fuckin mess.” He slaps you again, “can't have my pretty girl making a mess on my couch.”

“Fuck,” you pant, sticking your ass up and trying to find anything to Grind down on, something to give you the pressure you need, “Roman, please.”

“Yes, pretty girl.” His voice was deep and mischievous, “beg for me.”

The slice of his zipper cuts through the air, the cling of his belt sending jolts of anticipation through you. When the expensive leather wrap tightens around you as he pushes you further into the couch, holding you right where he wants you.

“Please Roman,” your legs kick but find no target, “please,” you try to move your arms, but he presses them harder into your back, “I need you, fuck.”

“What lovely noises you make for me.” His cock slaps at your pussy, teasing you. You scream his name and he laughs. “Stop squirming, it just makes me want to tease you more.” He slips his cock between your lips grinding through them the tip just barely grazing your clit and sending you into a blissful torture.

“Please fuck me Roman, “ tears start to sell in your eyes, “I can't take it.”

He grabs you by the hair, pulling you back so your chest is slush with his stomach. His voice a growl in your ear, “not yet. But you will learn to take it from me.” He grinds up, giving you a tiny dose of what's in store as he grinds his cock into your clit.

“Yes, I can.” You pant, “I will. But please. “ You barely have the last word or before he moves back. His cock slip's right into the dropping mess between your legs.

His gloved hand moves from your hair to your neck, directing your face to the side and his lips meet yours. His pace is almost as punishing as his kiss. Fierce, hard and unrelenting.

You feel light headed whether from the kiss or the fucking, you can't tell. But both are intoxicating, he's intoxicating. You twist and the soft leather glides over your thigh and between your legs. Stopping at your clit, he does move just gives you something to grind down on.

“It's too much,” you somehow manage to say between garbled moans.

“Take it for me”

“Roman I-”

“I got you. Take it”

“Yes,” you lean back into him. Your muscles relax as you're pussy starts to contract, “Roman I I think”

“Your mine now pretty girl”

“Yes”

“Say it”

“I'm yours”

“Yes, keep saying it.” He moans, makes me wanna come

“I'm yours, I am all yours, all of me.” You scream as you explode in a cacophony of pleasure over him and he picks up the pace. You keep saying it as his fingers bruise into you.

“More more”

“Roman I am yours”

“Fuck” he screams through gritted teeth “Fuck fuck, Yes” he keeps slamming into you as his pace slows down.

With a deep sigh he stops. Leaning his back into the couch and wiping his brow. “You, ah. You're something else.” You hear him smile as his fingers release you from your bonds and he helps you recline into him.

“Hmmm.” You hum, resting your head on his shoulder, “this was nice.”

“Just nice,” he laughs and you feel his dick inside you twitch, “have to try something else next time then.”

“It was great, I just-”

“Got your brains fucked out and can't think?”

“Yeah, xctly.”

“Rest pretty girl,” his hands soothe down your sides.

“Think I will”

“Good,” his lips gently press into your temple and your eyes flutter close. You’re nearly about to drift right off into dreamland when you swear you hear him say, “You’re all mine now, Darling.” was that another kiss? “You’ll never be free of me.”

#roman sionis x reader #x reader #roman sionis smut #reader x roman sionis

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richeeduvie · 6 months ago

Note

When Baby jr is a young adult, she does a month long volunteering excursion like her mom did all those years ago and Roman wants to rip his hair out because it's happening to him again. Roman pretty much spends that entire month inside Baby (and her in him) cause he can't let himself sit in his thoughts for too long. Lucky for him though, Baby jr hated being away that long and never wants to do it again

"She's coming home in a week, Rome."

Roman doesn't say anything, but his head rests on top of Baby's breasts.

"I think that fact that you haven't ripped your scalp away and have let her enjoy her time at her work whenever she calls is the most impressive you've ever been."

"...Why is she doing this to us?"

Baby sighs, her heart twists at how genuine it sounds. Nothing humorous, nothing on that end of Roman. She runs her hand over his head, fingers tickling his neck. But she can feel him growing heavier on her.

"She's going out to experience the world, and in a good way. Imagine, she could've been a clubber. But she's volunteering and she'll be back soo-"

"Why does she want to be away from us?"

...Baby blinks.

There's something but his question that's...childish. But not like it's a tantrum. It's just...insecure and worried. Like Roman's traveled back in time to reach for that voice.

That us isn't you and him. It doesn't feel so, it feels like he's asking this question to whoever he's met in the past - or that he's asked it before at least.

"It's okay, Roman."

He doesn't say anything after that. But that's been the month at it's heaviest. For most of it, it's Roman not being able to keep his hands off of you. And you'll take him anyway he lets you, and he'll let you because he's your pathetic, freakish slut of a man who needs you, but you know it's because he can't stand to sit in his thoughts. He can't think about missing her and this is the first time your home has really been empty.

You miss her too, so much - that's just being a mother, but this is Roman being Roman. At some point, all he wanted was you and her, that's all his life has been.

Last night, you tried to make him face it, bring normalcy to his hatred of your daughter being away.

He sat on the counter, groping your breasts and not able to look you in the eyes.

"You didn't ask her to come home this call, that's goo-"

And then he stopped, which you thought is what he wanted, just until he didn't say one word as he left you in the kitchen.

"You and her are the same, I guess I'm that fucking leavable. She aged by fifteen and suddenly the world is cooler than her dad, which fair. Whatever, but you do the same."

"....Is this about my volunteer-"'

"Yeah. And everyda-" Roman clears his throat. "Just...you smell really good right now. Not in terms of your perfume. I like your sweat-scent-"

You both still at the sound of the door clicking.

"What the fuck?"

"You heard that?"

"Of course I fucking heard that-Can we just say it's nothing because if it's someone with a gun I will shit on you. Which...you're half naked so-"

"Dad? Mom?"

You blink at the sound of your daughter.

Of course you've missed her, but the way you almost knock Roman's head in when coming up makes you realize that you need to get to her now.

There's no logic in the fact that you're both expecting her a week later, but you don't need logic when you're a mother. Or Roman as a father.

It's the sound of loud shuffling and shifty cursing as Roman stumbles in putting on his pants at a hilarious, impossible speed - he almost runs out the door.

"Fuck you! Help me find my shirt, you can't greet her without me."

You see Roman almost choose to leave you in the dust.

"Oh my god, just-"

Your shirt gets tangled in your hair as he pulls it over hard and tightly. Your hair is a mess in the end, but both you and Roman are running. It's down the hall with a harsh beating heart.

And then the sight of your perfect daughter, bags behind her. She's wearing your sweater, it's a big long in the sleeves for her. And she looks so beautiful and you've missed her.

Roman's right to want to keep himself in you and all over you to keep the thoughts away, but now she's here and the thought of her leaving again is unbearable.

"...It was alright. I just-I hope you don't mind coming home early."

You're surprised Roman hasn't tackled her, but he just stares. She sighs like he does.

And she's pressing herself into the both of you, arms hugging around at your and Roman's sides. You and Roman hug the life out of her, her between the both of you.

"I've missed you, baby."

"I've missed you too, Mommy. And you too, Dad. I guess."

It's a joke with a shaky voice. Relief. You know your daughter well enough to know she's wanted to be home a long time ago, and you know kids well enough to not say anything about it.

But Roman says nothing, you just watch his eyes shut so tightly as he breathes into her hair.

Somehow, he shuts them even tighter when you rub his back, vein bright in his forehead.

"I've got a lot to tell you, though."

"About it being alright?"

"Yeah, what else?"

You and your little, forever little girl talk as Roman keeps himself quiet and tightly shut with love at it's most painful. Only Roman can make relief painful.

#inbox #hc's #drabble #dog and bone!au #roman roy x reader #roman roy fanfic #succession fanfiction

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cumxxslutt · 2 years ago

Text

No More

Warnings:Smut, Swearing, Pussy Eating 🤭, Cum Eating, forced orgasm? (I think?), Daddy Kink!, Anyways call me out if I missed something . 🫣

Fem/Black Reader

Roman Regins x Reader

(His hair in a ponytail has me going crazy 😟)

“Get up here” He said to me , I started to climb up towards the head of the Bed , Then He grabbed me by my waist and pulled me up halfway, “Sit on my face” He says looking in my eyes , thinking on it for a minute I finally respond “No” I say with my head down , He looks at me and smirks “I said sit.on.my.face” He says now pulling My shorts down and ripping off my panties

“You Ready” He says , I couldn’t even get a kword in before I felt his warm Tongue on my slit , I let out a soft moan throwing my head back , He Lifted me up and moved around to get in a comfortable position , When He got comfortable He sat me back down on his face

Gripping his hair And moaning his name , Him spreading my legs Holding my thighs apart , Slurping, and sucking “fuck” I moan leaning my head back a bit , He kept licking , Eating me like a man starved and possessed , He flips us over , Now I’m on my back legs pushed up to my chest , As he’s now between my legs

“Please” I mumble feeling his tongue Run Over my Pussy , “oh fuck! , Right there” I said gripping his Arm , then moving my hands to pull on his hair , “Please Don’t Stop” I said , Scrunching My face up in pleasure

“Ohmygod , it feels so good” I replied feeling my orgasm approach , “fuck! , I’m about to cum” I Say , Feeling his tongue Fuck My hole , ‘ohmygod , he is tongue fucking me’ The thought of that has me going feral , My legs started shaking as he kept tongue fucking me

He flipped us over so I’m back on his face , He tapped my Left ass cheek twice as a signal for me to cum, “Fuck!” I scream out , Legs shaking, Tears streaming down my face, As I came he ate that shit back up , Every Drop of cum that came out of me , Went right into his mouth , Almost As if he was addicted to my taste

Before I could even process anything, He Moved me off his face , And Pushed my body down into all fours , I gasped but that was quickly cut off , when I felt him push his dick inside me , “You Ready Mama” He mumbled in my ear , I looked at him through the mirror and nodded my head

“Fuck! Daddy!” I moan out loud, letting out a couple of whimpers still sensitive from my last orgasm , “Take this Fucking Dick” He said fucking me rough , Grabbing from the back of my neck and whispering in my ear , “Be a good girl , And I might just let you cum again” He stated letting my neck go , causing me to fall face first in our pillows

“Mhm” I moan out and he kept fucking me , I then felt his hands slide down between my legs , His fingers Rubbing the top of my clit , I grabbed his wrist cause I felt like I was gonna cum , “I’m gon-“ I was cut off By screaming his name as my body shook as I came on his cock and his fingers , “fuck” I mumble dripping cum thinking we were done

But he never stopped he kept fucking me , Dick still in my Pussy , Hands still going in circles , “No More” I cry out , trying to move his hands but he was to strong and wouldn’t move , so I tried to slip his dick out of me, But he held my hips from doing so , “Naw don’t run from this dick now” he said Now taking his hand from my clit and putting both hands on my waist

“Ohmygod” I screamed , “fuck!” I kept repeating over and over , “Stop” I said dragging the “P” But he never did , it hurt but felt so good , 4 more orgasms later , I was shaking and crying as he pulled out of me , I Whimpered as he pulled out , I let all my tears fall

“Shh , Mama it’s okay” He said picked me up turning me around so now I’m on his lap as he rest’s his head up against the headboard , “it’s okay baby” he said kissing my head , “You did so good , My Pretty Girl” He said pulling the covers over us as I was drifting to sleep

“My Pretty Pretty Girl” he said once more before laying down with me .

Hope this won’t ass , Rushed but who cares 🤷🏽‍♀️ , anyways hope you guys enjoyed it , Might of got some miss-spelled words or some bad grammar . !! 😭

*GIF ABOVE IS NOT MINE*

#jey uso #jimmy uso #roman reign x y/n #roman reigns #wwe fics #wwe smut #solo sikoa #roman regins smut #Hope this was good lmaoo😭#the bloodline #the bloodline 🎀#cumxxslutt.writes🎀

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harknessxo · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter II ✦ Just a Mistake- Or Was It?

Parings: Rhea Ripley x Roman Reigns, Rhea Ripley x Dominik Mysterio

Summary: Rhea’s life gets turned upside down.

Warnings; angst

Word Count: 3.3k

Masterlist

A/n: this chapter was written by @tonuitekan 😁

“Dom, stop, if you could please just let me explain—“

“Explain what? That you’ve been using me this entire time?” He asked her incredulously as he turned to see her. “That’s why you gave me an ultimatum when I lost my title and you didn’t do the same with Damian and Finn?”

“Dom, it’s not what it looks like. Listen, it was a one time thing only a—“

“Oh? So all those missed phone calls from me to you were all one-time-things as well? Seriously, Rhea?”

“Dominik, please, just- hear me out, ”Rhea begged him as she held his arm, “I never, ever meant for this to go on any further, okay? It was… it was out of my control and I didn’t know how to stop it. I didn’t even know how to tell you, so that’s why Roman and I decided not to tell you until we could find a better time and place to talk about this.”

Dominik stared at her. His eyes had been glassy ever since he walked out from the ring, holding back the urge to cry right then and there as Rhea wanted to bury herself alive. This time, she was the cause of him almost wanting to cry. It wasn’t because of a lost, him being mocked by others in this company, or him being hurt in any way. This time, she was the reason. And it felt more like a stab wound crossing through his chest.

“… Liv was right.” Dominik mumbled, his voice almost breaking as he pulled his arm away from Rhea.

This made her freeze. “… what?”

“Liv was right. You have never changed since the day you left her.”

With that, he decided rather than getting inside the car, he immediately walked away from her direction. At this, Rhea watched him leave with her being unable to leave her own spot as she watched him leave, even being unaware of Damian having watched the entire thing and deciding to go after Dom as he immediately followed him. All the while Finn went to check on Rhea as he began to ask her if she was okay and what were him and Dominik arguing about.

However, Rhea didn’t even bother to explain as she could only head back inside to gather her stuff and leave immediately. Not even willing to see anyone right now. She just wanted to forget this all happened. She wanted to forget.

The next morning…

“Rhea?” Damian knocked on her hotel room the next morning, deciding to go and look for her instead of trying to call or text her for the umpteenth time. He waited a minute or so, but no response as he sighed deeply. “Rhea, come on now, I know you’re in there.”

He then waited once again, hearing something shuffling from the other side as he took a step back before he heard the door unlock and open. He saw an exhausted (not physically, but mentally) Rhea, her hair a complete mess and still wearing her two-piece pajamas.

“I’ve been trying to call and text you since last night.” He told her as he showed her phone. “Did something happened to your phone or…?”

“No. I didn’t want to speak to anyone.” Rhea said as she rubbed her head and let Damian inside her room. “Plus, I had the Wiseman trying to relentlessly call me and demand me to talk to Hunter about last night and well… and then, you have Reigns who’s also been trying to call me since I left. I tried to call Dom but… I think he blocked my number and… I don’t fucking know what to do at this rate.” Damian sat by the couch of the room as Rhea closed the door as he looked at her.

“Look… I’m not trying to justify anything here, but… if anything, you should’ve told Dom—“

“From the moment I screwed Reigns the first time?”

“Rips, Dom isn’t doing well right now.” Damian told her as he shifted in his seat.

“And I know you’ve been trying to call and text him, because I was with him last night making sure that he didn’t slip to any bars or anywhere else and cause some shit. He’s hurt.”

“And you don’t think I know that?” She asked with a scoff as she sat down on the bed, facing him. “Damian, I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“Then why didn’t you stop it from the moment you slept with Roman the first time?”

At the question, Rhea looked down at her fingers. She didn’t know exactly how to answer that question.

“… I don’t know. I mean, it’s hard to explain.” She mumbled as her best friend listened to her.

“Look, I love Dom. I loved him since the moment I started to see the real him when he joined our group. I love everything about him, even if people think otherwise. He’s what you would expect to find in a person; supportive, encouraging, happy, someone that matches your energy.”

She then held her breath for a second before trying to get rid of the knot that was forming in her throat.

“And… ever since I broke things off with Liv, I haven’t felt that way since then and… it feels nice to feel that way again after so long. But with Roman, I…” She trailed off once again before she took a deep breath and rubbed her face with both hands.

“Don’t overthink it, ma. Just say whatever comes in your mind first.” Damian told her as he held his hand out as a sign for her to calm down. She groaned, laying back against the bed frame while holding a pillow on her lap as she spoke.

“… I don’t know if that feeling I’m used to getting for Dom is still there or if it’s just… you know, fading.” She told Damian, the older male still listening to her. “And I’m scared that it is, because I fucked up.”

“So you’re conflicted between either getting Dom back or…?”

“No, it’s not that, but…” She confirmed before she ran a hand through her hair. “Look, I’m pretty sure it was a heat in the moment and that was it. It was never supposed to happen and I shouldn’t have allowed for it to drag on any further. The Bloodline and the Judgment Day are supposed to be allies. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Damian shifted in his seat, looking down for a couple of seconds as he seemed to ponder before he looked back at her. He was never the type of person to tell when his Terror Twin was wrong in any situation. But now…

“Look, I’m not here to tell you that you were wrong or anything like that, but… you need to get all of that shit sorted out or put aside before Crown Jewel.” He told her.

“I get it. Look, you don’t want to get up, you don’t want to do shit right now, you feel like shit, I totally get it. But believe it or not, Rips, there are people out there who refuse to see you weak over anything. I refuse to see you fall and lose that title.” He pointed at the belt that was hanging in the open-closet nearby.

“So right now you have two choices, Rips. Either sort all of this shit out on Monday, or sort it out after Crown Jewel. And another thing,” He sat up as he folded his hands in his pockets, still continuing his stern speech towards her.

“If I see Roman again trying to talk to you alone, Finn and I ain’t gonna leave till he says what he needs to say.” He said to her, “Whatever he has to say to you after everything that happened, he can also tell us, from now on. No more secrets, Rhea. I mean it. Not just for our sake… but if you’re considering taking Dom back, do it for his sake, too.”

“… thanks Priest.” Rhea mumbled as she nodded before she looked down at her hands. Damian only dipped his head and patted her shoulder lightly before he went to the door.

“I’ll check on Dom. You sure you don’t want to come down for gym?”

“I’ll just take today off… not really feelin’ it right now.”

“Alright. If you change your mind, you can call me. Oh, and one more thing,” Damian paused as he was about to open the door to leave before he turned to look at his best friend again. “Raquel called me asking about you.”

At that, Rhea blinked as she looked up incredulously. “What?”

“Yeah, she said she left multiple texts, she heard what happened last night backstage. Zelina filled her in when she heard it from Charlotte after she basically snitched on you to Dom.”

“Oh great…”

“Now hold on, before you assume anything… not to be that person, but given by the tone of her voice, Raquel seemed worried. Well, maybe a little bit.” Damian told her. “If you want to check on your texts whenever you want… I suggest you call her. Not that it matters if you do or not, but… your match at Crown Jewel with her and those other three women is coming up. I suggest you negotiate with her now that she seems to be concerned about you.”

At that, Rhea’s frame relaxed slightly while still looking unsure. Raquel has been attempting to go after her lately for costing her and Liv Morgan the women’s tag titles, so even if what Damian was telling her was true, she needed to be cautious. She trusted almost no one in the Women’s Division, at all.

“Well, imma go down for a few laps then eat something. I’ll catch up with you later, alright?”

“Kay. See ya. And thanks.” Rhea mumbled as she nodded while Damian left. She then placed her head against the wall and took a deep breath before looking at her phone. She was not going to have a good day, at all.

Raquel sat along with all of the wrestlers in the roster as they all had their breakfast together at the dining room. She had just finished making her own workout at the hotel’s gym so she was now just grabbing a quick bite before she could return to her room and begin her day. While eating, she pulled out her phone and verified if any of her texts to Rhea were even opened.

As she did, Damian had already arrived and sat by her side with a plate of food as he spoke.

“I just checked on Rhea and… she ain’t doing alright.” Raquel sighed at this.

“You’re joking right now?”

“Raquel, I’m her best friend—“

“Okay? And so was I at one point.”

“Anyways, she’s not doing okay. She doesn’t even want to get up from bed, I tried to convince her to come down, pero nada.” The muscular woman rubbed her temple as she turned to him.

“Look, Priest, she cannot be like this, okay? Not when she’s defending her title against me and three other women. Look, Rhea and I may have our own issues, but if I’m being fair with you, that’s the least of my concerns right now.” She spoke to him.

Some of the wrestlers around the table were hearing their conversation, but decided not to pitch in or take no part of it.

“What Rhea did was wrong. Dom didn’t deserve that, but that doesn’t mean that Charlotte gets to humiliate her like that and bring up her past and talk about it to everyone in here, out of everything.”

“So you’re saying that if Liv were to hear you right now, she wouldn’t be hurt by you taking Rhea’s side? Is that what I’m getting at?” Both suddenly heard Charlotte’s voice as everyone’s heads turned to face her. She stood in front of everyone at the table as she crossed her arms. Raquel stood up from her seat, a frown plastered in her face as she spoke.

“I’m taking no sides in this. And Flair, I think you should shut up and mind your business.”

“Oh? But me getting into other people’s business is what made Dom realize the type of person Rhea is, or am I wrong?” Charlotte asked as she tilted her head.

At that, tension arose within the dining table as some heads even turned to look at Dom who was gazing down, all the while Finn and Jimmy both sat beside him as they tried to distract the younger male away from Charlotte’s speech.

“Flair, that’s enough, take it easy.” Damian was the second one to stand up and also face her while he also stood beside Raquel.

“This is none of your business, and quite frankly, you shouldn’t have made this into everyone’s business. So do us a favor, sit down, be quiet, and let’s just have a peaceful breakfast, alright?”

“Damian, I hate to say this, but this stopped being a peaceful breakfast the moment she came here.” Bayley commented as she winced while pointing at Charlotte.

“Oh quit it, Bayley. Were you that ex friend that betrayed her own best friend back at NXT all because you were jealous of her succeeding?”

At the comment coming out from Flair’s mouth, the entire table tensed, but even so when Raquel’s expression changed as he looked at her. She knew exactly what she was talking about, and so did Damian.

At Raquel’s change in her body language, Damian looked between her and Charlotte before speaking to Raquel.

“Whatever she says, don’t listen…”

“Oh! Oh wait I’m just getting started.” Charlotte said as she turned to everyone while a sarcastic smile plastered on her face.

“At least I’m not the reason that Rhea became the person she’s today.”

“Charl, that’s enough…” Zelina mumbled as she rubbed the back of her neck, especially when she immediately looked away after noticing the death stare coming from Raquel.

“Oh, no, I’m not finished,” Charlotte piped as she set her plate down and turned to face everyone again, “On top of that, at least I’m not the reason why Rhea had started to obtain very big trust issues with everyone here. And to finish that off… at least I’m not some Rhea-Wannabe who only decided to team up with Morgan all because to try and prove ONCE AGAIN that she was better than Ripley herself.”

“Okay that’s enough—“ Damian stood between Charlotte and Raquel, “Cut it out, right now.”

“No, no. It’s okay,” Raquel suddenly spoke, eyeing at Charlotte dangerously, “Damian, go ahead and step back, because I don’t want to twist your arm.”

“Raquel, just stop it. She’s not worth your time right now.” Natalya was also someone who stood and pulled Raquel back. She gave her a stern look as she spoke.

“Remember, we’re all only here for work. No more dramas, no more fighting. If you guys want to fight over it, we take that in the ring. But. Not. Here.”

It was quiet and tense in the dining room, specifically in their table. After a while, Charlotte attempted to hold back a scoff before she went to take a seat on the other side of the table as everyone watched her keep her peace and eat. At that, they all proceeded to return to eat while trying to act as if nothing happened.

Raquel stared down at her for a moment before she sighed deeply while Natalya and Damian coaxed her to sit back down. When she was about to, however, she caught a glimpse of red and turned to see Roman from a distance walking out from the gym and on his way to the elevator. He had recently gotten out from his own workout and was going to be on his way to his room for a quick shower and a change of clothes.

At this, Raquel stood before either Damian or Natalya could say a word to her. She walked towards the tribal chief himself while exiting the dining room as some people watched.

“Pft, now she wants a piece of Roman all because Rhea got a piece of hi—“

“Charlotte, for fuck’s sake, shut up.” Came Dakota’s annoyed tone as she ate her oatmeal. Quite literally voicing out what everyone else in the table was thinking.

“You. Hey.” Roman perked up as he paused in front of the elevator and turned to see Raquel approach him. “We need to have a chat.”

“Better make it quick. I got an interview in a few hours and I need to get there by noon.” Roman casually said as he looked at his watch. Raquel rolled her eyes at him before she turned to him and spoke.

“Look, I don’t care what your little group and the Judgement Day have going on, I don’t want any part of that, but I’m just gonna tell you right now. Whatever shit that happened between you and Rhea, you better fucking fix it.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Roman. Your… fling with her and Dom realizing that she cheated on him with you is the reason why Charlotte won’t keep her mouth shut.” The Latina blurted out as she made a gesture with her arms.

“Not only is she still trying to drag Rhea as well as cause more issues to her because of that, but she’s also trying to bring more issues for me, and next thing you know, you’re gonna be the next person on her naughty list.”

“Look Raquel,” Roman turned to her as he rubbed his forehead. “I respect you, as a person and a wrestler. I may not interact with you as much, but I’m gonna clarify something for you. I’m not gonna let Miss Flair add me on her “naughty list” all because she’s deciding to cause more issues. Don’t worry about it for now. Plus, like you said, it ain’t your business. So you can breathe just fine, trust me.”

“In case you’re not realizing it by now, Rhea’s not okay.” Raquel quickly said.

“Roman, for fuck’s sake, she has the Crown Jewel match against me and many other women in the next few weeks. She barely gets out of the hotel room every morning and she only goes out whenever it’s about work or training, that’s it. And you probably might know this or not, but before we became enemies, she was my friend. And I’m not gonna sit here and lecture you about our tragic backstory, but my point is… if you at some point actually did cared about Rhea, even if it was a tiny bit, even if it was only during your tag match with her against Bobby and Bianca, even if it’s just a little bit, then you better fix this shit. And make sure Charlotte keeps her mouth shut.”

With that, Raquel stormed away while Roman watched her go back to the cafeteria. Looking at the time on his watch, he gazed at it. It was only a few more hours until he needed to get ready for his meeting later during the day. At the thought of it, he began to consider an idea.

Maybe he could still make small talk.

While he rode the elevator, he pulled his phone out and sent a message to her.

‘We need to talk, I’m heading to your room rn.’

What he didn’t know was that as soon as he entered the elevator to go to the 4th floor, Dominik was watching from the cafeteria as the other wrestlers beside him chatted and ate. Once he saw Roman was gone, he unlocked his phone, scrolling and looking through the many messages Rhea had sent him since last night as he began to ponder.

After a while, he took a deep breath and replied to her messages with just one question:

‘Can we please talk rn?’

#fanfic #dominik mysterio #charlotte flair #the judgment day #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #rhea ripley #damian priest #zelina vega #bayley #damage ctrl #the bloodline #the tribal chief #roman reigns #finn bálor #angst #raquel rodriguez #Rhea ripley x Roman reigns

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cabezadeperro · 10 months ago

Note

for the spotify wrapped prompt:

— Cody/Fox or Jango/Obi-Wan

— song #42

hiiiii!!!! i went with jango/obi-wan, it's been a while since the last time i wrote them and i miss them.

it got a tiiiny bit out of hand. the song was los chicos tristes, by hermanos gutiérrez. AU, around 1k, T.

---

The tide is an unrepentant, careless thief. It takes and takes and takes: Jango’s found old Roman and Viking coins buried in the narrow slash of black sand between the water and the rocks. He’s found cheap sandals, running shoes caught in the shoals, and empty water bottles, doll heads, plastic bags, cigarette butts. He picks it all up, puts it in a trash bag, throws it in the bin once it’s full, but the tide is a thief, and soon enough the narrow stretch of sand and stone and water in front of Jango’s home is once again brimming with its treasures.

He never expected the tide to steal itself a man.

The man drags himself out of the waves and stumbles to his knees. He’s barefoot but still dressed, and his soaked clothes drag him to the ground. He kneels there for long minutes, wet hair in his pale face, and then he stands up again, starts limping his way up the beach and towards the road. He’s seen Jango’s house.

Jango breathes out and leaves the knife on the cutting board. It’s late afternoon, but most of the lights are on: it’s been raining on and off throughout the whole day, and the insides of the small house are dark, full of a velvety kind of shadow.

He grabs his raincoat and an umbrella before opening the door, and then he waits there while the man picks his way across the rocks. There’s blood on his face: it’s stained the neck of his off-white shirt, and it drips while he walks. Jango sighs. He opens his umbrella and meets the man half-way, the wind trying its best to rip the umbrella off his hand.

D’you need a hand?

Jango has to raise his voice to be heard over the crashing of the waves and the whistling of the storm. The man pauses, looks up—his eyes are the same colour as the sea and the thunderous sky: murky grey-blue. His face is a shock of white, pale as bone under the sticky black sand and the blood.

He opens his mouth and says something—Jango doesn’t hear it, the wind ripping it away.

Jango’s clothes are too small on him. The man—Obi-Wan—sits at Jango’s table, his bare ankles obvious and almost shining in the shadows under it, and eats his soup in silence. Jango lets him use his phone, and he will let him spend the night in the coach in the ground floor living room.

He doesn’t know how he feels about having him there. He’s been perfectly polite for a man who almost drowned, but it makes Jango’s perfectly adequate house seem smaller and quieter and older and just—worse.

He appears to be in his early thirties. He’s tall and broad shouldered, and he bites his nails. The knuckles of his right hand are a mess, and his nose looks like it’s been broken more than once, and there are bruises and healing cuts on his face and on his bare arms.

Jango thinks about the distance between his house and the town and then about the shotgun in the box under his bed, the revolver in the kitchen drawer, and then he pours more coffee while Obi-Wan finishes his food.

He’s obviously exhausted, half-dead on his feet, but Obi-Wan finds it in himself to start asking questions once he’s done eating. Jango watches him washing the dishes, his rough hands turning red in the hot soapy water and the sleeves of his borrowed jumper rolled up to his elbows, and tries his best to answer them.

I didn’t know the lighthouse was still in operation.

It isn’t.

Thanks for saving my life.

It’s nothing.

What do you do, then, if you’re not the lighthouse keeper?

I’m retired.

You’re too young to be retired.

I am older than I look.

At this, Obi-Wan laughs out loud, smiling at Jango over his shoulder, and says: I doubt that.

The house is old and small, more of a cabin than an actual house, square and squat. Jango bought it years ago, and he never expected to live in it, not really. He leaves a few blankets and an extra pillow on the old couch in what passes for his living room. It’s still early, but the sun’s going down behind the clouds, and the shadows inside the house are growing deeper and darker. Obi-Wan stands in front of the wide windows and looks at the raging sea through the warped glass panes.

In the morning, Jango will drive him to the town, to the old docks. A friend of his will be there to pick him up with his boat.

Jango thinks about the tide, and about what it gives and what it takes from you, and then Obi-Wan’s turning to look at Jango over his shoulder, face in shadow.

It’s been a long, long time since Jango had anyone else in the house. Ghosts don’t count.

Obi-Wan doesn’t look like the kind of man unused to finding himself lost at sea. He’s not scared: he regards Jango and Jango’s house with the confidence of a man who’s survived the winter tides more than once.

He accepts the cup of coffee Jango offers to him, bruised hands wrapping around the chipped porcelain with relish, and he smiles.

He calls Jango kind.

(Jango hasn’t been kind in a very long time.)

He’s too big for Jango’s small house. That night, he hits his head against the sloping ceiling of Jango’s bedroom in the dark, and Jango finds himself laughing, tucking his laughter in the curve of Obi-Wan’s jaw.

The car drive to town is quick and easy. They listen to the radio—local news, 80s pop music. Obi-Wan knows most of the songs, mouths along with the words, his gaze fixed in the sea through the window. It’s noon, and the sun’s shining, high and white in the pure blue sky: it’s bitterly cold.

Obi-Wan kisses him once and then he gets on his friend’s boat, leaves with the winter tide, and Jango thinks about treasures hidden in the sand, about coins and broken bottles and the detritus of other people’s lives, and then he gets in his car and drives back home.

#jangobi #kenfetti #jango fett #obi wan kenobi #maría writes #ao3 wrapped writing meme

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myveryownfanfiction · 5 months ago

Text

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

chapter 5

tags: @illiana-mystery

Warnings: warnings: warnings: swearing, divorce, suggestive jokes, Roman makes self deprecating jokes (mostly about his weight and money situation), smoking, drinking, Roman gets turned on, Kate is her own warning here

I knocked on Roman's door, rocking on my heels as I fidgeted with my shirt. The sleeves had been stretched out with holes cut for my thumbs. A long leather jacket was thrown on top and my black jeans clung to my legs. My boots were loosely tied and thick black eye liner brought out my eyes. It had taken more time than I wanted to tease my hair out the way Eric had taught me but the end result was pretty cool. I only ever really dressed like this when Eric asked me to come to a gig but it was fun. Roman finally opened his door and his jaw dropped. My face heated up as Roman looked me over.

"Wow." He breathed out. "You look...wow." I smiled sheepishly and ducked my head. "I mean it. I just can't think of any words to describe you right now." Roman said, a light blush taking over his face.

"Thanks." I said softly. "Eric's band plays at this punk goth bar most of the time and its just a fun excuse to dress up sometimes." I shrugged. Roman nodded then bit his lip.

"We have a bit of time right?" I nodded.

"Yeah. I just figured we'd get to the venue early so you can properly meet Eric and Shelly. Why?" Roman ushered me into his apartment.

"Because I wanna change." He said as I walked through the door. I looked around and smiled to myself. "I'm sure I have a black shirt somewhere." Roman disappeared through what I assumed was his bedroom door and I moved towards his fireplace. There were pictures lining the mantle. Cara and Mara sat on his lap in one and I smiled at the one of them in what only could be school pictures. I saw one that had been ripped, but showed what had to be the whole family. "Yeah I ripped Kate out of that one." Roman said, scaring me slightly as he came back. “I got really pissed at her when we divorced. Best way I could take out that frustration." I turned back towards him and smiled as I looked him over, making it his turn to blush.

“you look good.” I said. Roman shrugged. “Seriously. You do.” He nodded towards the door and I followed him down to his car. “Only thing that’s missing is the eyeliner and teasing your hair.” Roman made a face and I laughed. “Maybe one day.” He held my door open for me and I bit my lip as I got in the car. Roman waited for me to give him directions before heading out of the garage. “This may be a bit heavier than what you normally listen to but I can guarantee it’ll be worth it.” I said after Roman had gotten on the highway.

“yeah?” He asked. I nodded. “So how long have you known those two?”

“oh as long as I’ve worked at the museum.” I said. “I met Eric first. He introduced me to Shelly about a month later when she got moved to the front desk.” Roman glanced over at me.

“sounds like the two of you have a history.” He said. “Any dark secrets I could convince either to tell me?” I laughed and shrugged.

“Shelly would need to be good and drunk I think. Eric well…” I rolled my eyes. “Eric just needs the right bribe.”

“noted.” Roman laughed. He reached over and picked up my hand. He kissed the back of it before intertwining our fingers. “I’m excited. Seriously. I think tonight is going to be fun.”

“it will. Eric always puts on a great show.” I confirmed. “Oh. By the way. The band is called hangman’s joke.”

“interesting name.” Roman said. I nodded.

“Turn here.” I said as Roman neared the stop light. “This is the place.” Roman looked over the building and I smiled as I got out of the car. “Welcome to the cemetery.” Romans eyes went wide for a second before he nodded, reaching for my hand again. I interlaced our fingers as we walked in. “I’m on the list. Eric draven invited me.” The bouncer nodded.

“why do you always do that (Y/N)?” He asked with a laugh. I shrugged.

“makes it more fun. And it makes him feel bigger than shit.” I laughed. “Roman this is heath. He’s usually here as a bouncer when Eric plays.”

“I’m the only bouncer who will put up with him.” Heath teased as he held his hand out to Roman. “This the waiter? The one you keep going back to that shitty diner for? Shelly told me about that. Said you thought he was hot shit.” I felt my cheeks heat up and sheepishly looked away. “Ah it is! Shelly said you’d be bringing him. Time you found someone.”

“shut up heath.” I muttered, smiling at him as I started to push past. “Say hi to the wife for me.” Heath nodded and let us pass. “So uh heaths a pretty nice guy. Takes too many dates to the museum but I think that’s more to bother Eric and Shelly when they work. He loves us though. Thinks of us as his kids.” Roman nodded, a smiled plastered on his face. “Ah shut up.”

“so im hot shit?” He asked, laughter clear in his voice. I rolled my eyes.

“like I said. Shut up.” Roman moved closer to me the more into the crowd we got. His arm made its way over my shoulders and I snuggled into him, wrapping my arm around his waist. “Bars over in the corner if you wanna grab something. Just have them put it on Eric’s tab.” I waved in the general direction of the bar. Roman nodded as we came up to the stage. Shelly saw us and rounded the curtain to let us through the rope. “Hey!” I said, letting go of Roman to hug her. “What’s wrong?” I cocked my head at the look of worry on her face.

“Moes sick.” Eric said, hugging me and shaking hands with Roman. “I need you to play.” I shook my head.

“not a chance Eric. We can here to watch you. I’m on a date.” I countered. Eric rubbed his eyes before pushing his hair back.

“and there’s no watching me if there’s no guitar player (Y/N). Please. Just for tonight.” Eric pleaded. I pushed my hand over my forehead and up to my hairline. Roman bumped my shoulder.

“I did say I wanted to see you play.” He said. I gave him a look and he squeezed my shoulder. “Come on (Y/N). Please. For me.” Roman pulled me closer and kissed my cheek. My cheeks grew warm and I nodded.

“ok. Ok. Fine.” I said. “I’ll play. But only tonight.” I pointed a finger at Eric. “And you owe me. Big time.” Eric hugged me and lifted me off the ground.

“thank you!” He cheered. “Now come on. We need to do sound check and get ready.” He took my hand and tugged me along.

“stay with Shelly! I’ll come find you after the show. I promise Roman!” I called back as Eric pulled me behind the curtain. Roman was smiling as I disappeared. “Thanks for ruining date night Eric.” I grouched as I slung moes guitar over my shoulder. I adjusted the strap and went about tuning it.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Eric said, a small grin on his face.

“no you’re not asshole.” I shot back. “Alright. Ready.” We warmed up as everyone bustled around the stage, prepping our setup and getting us ready to go. Eric looked at me one last time before the curtain went up. I nodded and played the opening chord, starting the show. ——————-Roman POV——————————

Shelly led me towards a corner of the floor next to the stairs leading to the stage. Apparently it was the perfect place to watch the show without having to deal with the rest of the crowd.

“Does this happen often?” I asked her. Shelly laughed.

“every other show.” She explained. “It’s why (Y/N) gets so pissed off at Eric about it. He needs a real back up guitarist but he refuses to hire one. I honestly believe he thinks (Y/N) is always going to be there to fill in. But they’re gonna get outta here one day. And he’s going to have to accept that.” I nodded, wondering if they would want me along when they left. “Don’t worry Roman. They like you too much to just disappear on you.” I blushed.

“didn’t realize I was being that obvious.” I laughed, rubbing the back of my neck. “I really like them. My kids like them. I just…” I sighed and glanced at the stage. The curtain was still down. “When I first started dating my ex it wasn’t like this. It was a slow build up. I didn’t even really like her much when we first started dating. I saw her maybe twice in that first month because I was so unsure about how I felt about her.” Shelly put her hand on my arm and rubbed circles into my bicep. It didn’t feel as comforting as when (Y/N) did it but it was confronting nonetheless. “With (Y/N)…” I laughed. “I’ve seen them everyday since I worked up the courage to talk to them at the diner. It helps we live in the same building but I’m just drawn to them. Everything about them…” I laughed. “I sound like a fucking rom com love interest.” Shelly smiled softly at me. “For the first time in my life I know exactly what I want to do and who I want to be with. And it’s (Y/N). I just want to make them happy.”

“trust me Roman. They haven’t been this happy in a long time.” She assured me. She was about to say something else when the lights went down and the curtains went up. A guitar started and two spotlights appeared. Eric appeared and Shelly cheered. I clapped even though he wasn’t the one playing. I squinted at the stage and gasped when (Y/N) appeared. My eyes flew to the neck of the guitar, watching their fingers fly across the board. I gulped as I watched them, blood rushing to my cheeks. Shelly screamed next to me as Eric stepped up to the microphone but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from (Y/N).

“wow.” I breathed out. Shelly elbowed me and smiled up at me.

“told ya.” She yelled above the music. I nodded slowly as I felt blood start to rush elsewhere. I bit my lip and dug my nails into the palm of my hands. Shelly was standing right next to me. She would know. She would know and then tell (Y/N) how I got a hard on just from watching them play guitar. I kept staring at them, trying to think of the most unattractive things I could, and praying the show would end soon.

———————-regular POV——————————-

I looked out over the crowd as I stepped up to the edge of the stage, getting ready for my solo. I smiled down at Roman and he gave me a strained one. My eyebrows furrowed before I let my eyes drift down his body. I bit my lip as I noticed the slight hard on he had. Shelly winked at me and I winked back before losing myself in the music. Eric’s voice trailed behind my guitar line and I closed my eyes. The show flew by and before I knew it, Eric had grabbed my hand and led me into the final bow. I dashed off stage to put the guitar down. Eric hugged me tightly once it was back in its case.

“Thank you!” He breathed out. I pushed on his chest. “Thank you!”

“yeah. I get it. Now let go of me you goof.” I finally pushed him off me and grabbed a towel to wipe some of the sweat off. “And don’t you dare ask me to join the band officially. The answer is always going to be no.” Eric shrugged as he toweled his hair. Shelly came running backstage and right to Eric. I shook my head as they kissed, tossing the towel to the side. I looked to the side as Roman appeared behind the curtain.

“hey.” He said. I smiled at him as he walked over. Roman held his arms open after glancing at the couple behind me. I shook my head.

“no way.” I laughed. Roman shrugged and moved closer. “Roman don’t. I’m sweaty and stinky and gross.” Roman wrapped his arms around my waist and I gently pushed his chest. “Roman.” I whined, only resulting in Roman tightening his hold on me. “Come on.”

“I could kiss you right now.” Roman whispered. I stared at him and stopped pushing at his chest. His eyes shown and he gulped as I took in what he said.

“Why don’t you?” I whispered back, wrapping my arms around his neck. Roman smiled and leaned in. I threaded my fingers through his hair as Roman kissed me. I sighed through my nose before relaxing into Roman. We pulled away with a small laugh. “I guess there goes my argument huh?” Roman nodded before pressing his forehead against mine.

“yeah.” Roman breathed out. “Although that doesn’t help my little problem.” I giggled as I played with his hair.

“Oh I saw that. You’re lucky no one else did.” I said, pecking his lips. “Who knew watching me play would get you turned on.”

“Not me.” Roman blushed. “If I had I wouldn’t have pushed you to play here. We would have been at my apartment instead.” I laughed before breaking away.

“We’re gonna head out.” I said, linking my arm with Roman’s as we walked over by Eric and Shelly. “Try to salvage what’s left of our date night.” I stepped closer to Roman.

“it was a great show though.” Roman added. “I’d love to see it with the full band.” Eric nodded with a laugh.

“of course. Have this one here bring you to the next show. Moe should be better by then.” I rolled my eyes.

“what? So you can rope me into playing for you again?” I teased. “Hell no.” Eric shook his head and hugged me again before shaking Roman’s hand.

“nice properly meeting you man. Bout time (Y/N) felt comfortable bringing someone around us.” Eric said as Shelly nodded. Roman blushed and wrapped his arm over my shoulder. I leaned into him and wrapped my arms around his waist. Roman kissed my head.

“see ya at work tomorrow.” Shelly said, reaching out and squeezing my arm. “Enjoy the rest of the night lovebirds.” I felt my face heating up and turned my head to press against Roman’s shoulder. He chuckled and we turned to head out.

“don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Eric yelled after us. “Ow! What was that for?!” I laughed, knowing Shelly had to have hit his chest.

“so where do you want to go?” Roman asked. We got into his car and he turned to look at me. “Anywhere you want. Whatever you want.” I reached over and cupped his cheeks.

“would you think terribly of me if I said I wanted to go back to your apartment and make out?” Roman blushed and shook his head.

“nope.” He said. “I was thinking the same I just didn’t want to…y’know.” He stared at me as I laughed.

“good.” I said, closing the gap and kissing him deeply. “Let’s go!” I sat back in my seat with a bounce and Roman laughed as he started the car. He pushed the limit of the traffic laws to get us back to our building. “I seriously did not expect you to want to kiss me when I looked like this.” Roman had his arm over my shoulder and I was hugging him tightly again. He laughed as we got off the elevator.

“hey blame the raging hard on.” Roman teased. “I had no idea you looked so good playing guitar. I can’t wait to see just you playing.” I smiled at him as he blushed. “I mean without all the makeup and whatnot. The you I see everyday at the diner. When you look plain…and I’m shutting up now.” I laughed before kissing him.

“I understand what you mean.” I said, patting his chest. “I just can’t believe me being sweaty and gross don’t bother you. Or that you aren’t forcing me to go to my own apartment and shower right now. We’re close enough.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” Roman said. “Besides I’m a little partial to this number.” He picked at my shoulder and I laughed. He chuckled before kissing me again.

“well well well.” Roman and I broke apart, looking in front of his door and seeing a woman standing there. “If it isn’t my ex husband and his new…”

“Kate. Don’t.” Roman growled. I stood there, arms wrapped around him and staring down Roman’s ex wife.

#Roman craig #roman Craig x reader #Roman Craig fanfic #Roman Craig fanfiction #Roman Craig imagine #Dan aykroyd #Dan aykroyd fanfic #dan aykroyd fanfiction #Dan aykroyd x reader #Dan aykroyd imagine #what a gas #what a gas series

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wrestlersownmyheart · 7 months ago

Text

Closer Than You Think Chapter 2 (Dean Ambrose X OC)

Title: Closer Than You Think Pairing: Dean Ambrose X OC: Shannon Brock Summary: When a serial killer claims a number of victims including NXT wrestler, Shannon Brock's cousin, she vows to find the killer after she is bumped to RAW from NXT. Her cousin's lover, AJ Styles, appoints himself and the Shield—Dean Ambrose, Seth Rollins and Roman Reigns—as her bodyguards.

Dean takes the task very seriously and doesn't let Shannon out of his sight, despite the game of cat and mouse they play with the killer. Can he keep her safe, or will the killer claim his ultimate victim?

Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Content/Trigger Warnings: Extreme Violence against women; murder

Chapter Two

Shannon Brock switched her cell phone to her other ear and grabbed a fruit salad out of the hotel room's mini refrigerator while she spoke with her cousin, Larissa Anderson.

The two women were actually more like sisters than cousins. Not only did they share the same physical attributes: long black hair, pale skin and identical gray eyes, they also had grown up living next door to each other, went to school together, spent weekends at each other's houses and watched their beloved wrestling together. They were virtually inseparable. They even planned for their careers to be in the same industry. Larissa wanted to write for World Wrestling Entertainment, while Shannon wanted to wrestle for them.

Then came Shannon's unforgettable eighteenth birthday—the day she'd been waiting for her whole life.

Shannon had applied for entrance to Funking Conservatory Wrestling School a couple weeks prior, and almost as if fate was giving her a birthday present, she received a letter of acceptance that very day. She'd ripped into the envelope with a vengeance and then cried tears of joy when she saw the printed words informing her of her acceptance.

"Mom! Daddy! They accepted me," she'd squealed happily, jumping up and down. "I'm moving to Ocala!"

She was lucky in finding an apartment near her school within the week and was soon on her way to living her dream. Excitement filled her heart, but so did sadness. She had never been away from her family for more than a week. How will I handle being away from them permanently, she wondered. I know I'll be able to visit them, but still… I'm living on my own now. I'm starting my life.

The day came when she left for Ocala. She hugged and kissed her parents goodbye, and then latched onto Larissa. "I'm going to miss you all so much," she cried. "I didn't realize how hard this would be."

"You'll be fine, Shannon," Larissa whispered, hugging her cousin tightly. "In fact, you're going to be amazing! I can't wait to see you on TV," she encouraged.

"You're going to make me cry," Shannon smiled through her tears. "I love you."

"Love you too. Now go get to school and show the veterans how it's done," Larissa teased. "I'll see you at WWE Headquarters in a few years."

Larissa sounded light-hearted for Shannon's benefit, but for a long time, she felt alone. However, she knew Shannon was doing what she loved. And so was Larissa. She had entered college a year before to major in English and minor in Journalism. Three years of very hard work later, she graduated and within a month had secured her dream job. Writing on the creative team for World Wrestling Entertainment.

Four years later, she worked up to both writing and producing—which was how she met her boyfriend, Jim Walker.

"Work is going great." Shannon answered her cousin, as she mentally returned from her reverie of the past. "As you know, I'm sure, I've been NXT Women's Champion for about six months now. Hopefully, I'll get to keep it a while longer. I get afraid every time I get my script that I could learn I'm about to lose the title to someone." She took a bite of pineapple then, "So how is everything with you? How are you and Jim doing?"

"Work is also going great for me. Very busy," Larissa chuckled. "All these storylines and the deadlines that go with them are about to wipe me out, but I'd not have it any other way."

"Well, I'm so glad you are enjoying it. We were both so blessed to get the exact jobs we were wanting," Shannon smiled, genuinely happy for her cousin. "So, how about Jim? Are you still having problems?"

"Not anymore," Larissa answered. "But that is probably because we broke up about two weeks ago. He just became too controlling and jealous for me to deal with."

Shannon felt terrible for her cousin. She knew how crazy about Jim she had once been. "I'm so sorry, Larissa," she said. "I wish there was something I could do."

"Don't worry, Shannon," Larissa told her. "I'm doing much better without him. The ordeal just taught me that being single isn't nearly as bad as being with a jerk."

"That's true," Shannon agreed whole-heartedly. "Well, I really hate to make this a short phone conversation, but I have got to get to bed early so I can work out in the morning and get ready for tomorrow night's show."

"No worries. I understand completely," Larissa told her. "I just wish our schedules would calm down a little so we could get together. Or even if all the brands had a week of being in the same state."

"I know, I miss you so much," Shannon said softly. "I hate that we never get to see each other."

"Maybe soon we can," Larissa said, hope in her voice. "I'll let you get to bed now. Goodnight, Shannon. Love you."

"Goodnight. I love you too."

With that, the two women disconnected the call and got back to the tasks of their everyday lives.

0o0o0

That Night In Philadelphia…

"Dana," Jarold, the night manager of Denny's called out. "Table nine needs more coffee!"

The restaurant was swamped and buzzing with excitement. The building was full of wrestlers and wrestling fans from the live event that had occurred only three blocks away.

"Okay, I'm on it," Dana called back over the dull roar of adoring WWE fans. She grabbed the non-decaffeinated coffee pot and headed to the table that a man was seated at.

"I assume you want regular and not decaf," she flashed him her charming smile, trying to get as good a tip as possible, and brushed her dark ponytail back over her shoulder flirtatiously.

"Yeah, that'll be great," he smiled back at her. "I guess you're staying pretty busy tonight, huh," he conversed as she filled his cup up.

Dana enjoyed the sexy rasp in the handsome man's voice and immediately became nervous. I must look awful after being around this greasy atmosphere all night, she fretted. "Well, I wasn't super busy till about a half hour ago," she chuckled. "But hey, I'm in a large room full of gorgeous wrestlers. So it's worth it," she joked.

"Well, I'm sure you have every male eye in the room locked on you, flashing that smile of yours," the man said, just the slightest hint of disdain entering his demeanor.

Did I imagine that, Dana wondered. Or maybe I'm just really tired and reading too much into his behavior. He seemed friendly enough, but there was some thing dark, sinister in his eyes. Like Dracula, hot and sexy, yet evil and cold-blooded.

He's handsome, I'll give him that, Dana thought. But then again, so was Ted Bundy.

"Well, enjoy your coffee, sir," she said, suddenly growing uncomfortable. "And if you need anything else, just let me know." She smiled kindly this time, with no flirting whatsoever, and headed back to the waitress station.

The young woman stayed busy for the next two hours re-filling coffee, soft drinks, serving desert, collecting dishes and wiping tables. Her only comfort was that she'd made about two hundred dollars in tips, which she'd poked very securely into her waitress apron.

Finally, at about midnight the diner was close to empty so Dana began performing her end-of-shift duties, to prepare for the next waitress' shift. She wiped down all tables and booths, cleaned the coffee machines and soft drink machines, took all dirty dishes to the back to be washed, then prepared to take out the garbage.

Minutes later, she was hauling two large trash bags along with her as she hurried out the backdoor and to the huge dumpsters in the dark alley.

"Why can't these dumpsters be closer to the building," she grumbled under her breath, as she hefted the bags up into one of the large receptacles.

And then suddenly, the hair on her neck stood on end. A cold chill ran down her spine and she visibly shuddered.

"You should have had someone else take the trash out…"

Dana had no time to react, a knife was at her throat instantly.

A hand clamped over her mouth, "Don't scream…" The raspy voice told her, "Or this will hurt more than it has too."

Oh my God, Dana panicked. Please somebody come out here…She prayed silently, Somebody come check on me…

But there was no one nearby. Nobody to hear her whimpering cries. Nobody to see as the serrated edge of the blade viciously tore into her pale throat.

And nobody noticed for a long while that she never re-entered the building…

0o0o0

Shannon reached over to the nightstand and picked up the receiver of the in-room phone which was ringing incessantly. "Hello," she uttered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Miss Brock in room 509," came a pleasant female voice.

"Yes, this is she," Shannon said, fighting off a yawn.

"I'm just delivering your 7 A.M. wake up call ma'am. Would you like me to make a follow-up call in five minutes?"

"No, thank you," she replied. "I'm awake enough, so that's not necessary."

"Okay, Miss Brock. Help yourself to a complimentary breakfast in our cafe. Have a nice day."

"Thank you. You have a nice day too." She hung up the phone and stretched with a soft groan. "Ugh…seven o'clock already…."

She stood to her feet then and turned on the television to get the morning news while she prepared for her day. Listening to the weather forecast, she discarded the black satin nightgown she'd slept in and grabbed some workout clothes out of her suitcase. After pulling on a pair of pink yoga pants, a black sports bra, and layered an off-the shoulder black t-shirt over a pink tank top she stepped into a pair of running shoes. Within minutes her teeth were brushed and she began pulling her hair up into a messy bun when the words "brutal murder" shot her attention to the television. Her gaze froze on the TV screen as she listened in.

"…In Philadelphia late last night a brutal murder has the city in turmoil. Live in Philadelphia, Jack Cooper has the story."

"Philadelphia…" Shannon whispered, worriedly. That's where Larissa was last night.

The feed cut to an area at the back of a restaurant taped off with police tape, with Jack Cooper facing the camera.

"The body of thirty year old, Dana Marshall was found outside in this very alley of Denny's restaurant at approximately 12:20 this morning. When the murder was first called in by the late shift's manager, Jarold Carver, the police's first impression was robbery due to the fact that the manager had reported that they'd had a very busy night and that the young woman had made a large amount of money in tips. However, when they arrived at the scene it was a different story. Dana was found lying on her back with her throat and entire body slashed.

A photograph then popped on the television screen of a woman who was apparently Dana Marshall.

"My God…" Shannon whispered.

The woman looked so much like Larissa and herself it was uncanny. The only major difference is that Shannon and Larissa were a few years younger and had longer hair.

Suddenly unnerved, Shannon turned the television off and tried to get herself mentally ready for the day's events. But the images of what she had seen and heard were engraved her mind.

"Denny's…" she thought out loud as she rubbed some tension out of her neck. Grabbing her phone off the night table, she pulled up Google and typed out "Denny's restaurants in Philadelphia", then picked the first link offered. She scanned the page for the street address of the establishment and was distressed to find the address was merely three blocks away from the Thompson Stadium-where SmackDown had been taped.

"Why is this creeping me out so bad," she asked herself. Then shook her head to clear it. "Ugh...I'm just being paranoid. Get a grip, Shannon."

Making sure she had her room's key card in her wallet, she grabbed her gym bag and stuffed a change of clothes into it and then she hurried out the door intent on grabbing some coffee on her way to the gym. And then she was going to work the strange new tension out of her body, even if it killed her.

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#Dean Ambrose #Dean Ambrose Fan Fiction #Dean Ambrose Imagine #Dean Ambrose X OC #Dean Ambrose Fan Fic

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