#roman reigns comfort | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cavinginhisfvce · 6 months ago

Text

They Never Want To Discuss What Triggered You. Just How You Reacted. | Angst.

Before I get into the fic, this is a story I’ve written for a different fandom, I just changed things to work for The Usos. If you spot any errors/continuity mistakes please let me know! This is a CodyJey story, but it’s not the main focus.

Nobody notices the way Josh seems largely put off by every meal. They don't see the disgust that courses through him with every bite, through every uptick in his calorie intake.

They don't see when he finally dips off to the bathroom to ralph every morsel he possibly can.

Nobody hears his cries over the rush of shower water, they don't hear him shouting to be seen, heard, and held.

They don't see the drops of red that mix in with his shower water as it trails down the drain.

What they do see is Josh’s unbridled anger. His hair triggers for any and all things. They see bruised knuckles, and split lips in place of his oh so evident pain. They see a nuisance, an unreasonably angry boy. They take what they see at face value, nobody digs further. Josh doesn't ask them to.

Nobody witnesses the days Josh can barely drag himself out of bed. Nobody sees the days where he's so tired, every movement feels like a war on his body and mind.

There's always a hidden layer of fatigue beneath his skin, some days it's easily ignored, while others it demands to be addressed.

No one is around to watch as Joshua Fatu becomes a shell of his former self. Not even Jon. Only Josh and the four walls of whatever room he's holed up in.

Nobody sees the papers that litter Josh’s bedroom, or their contents. They don't see the "Dear Jon’s" and the "I'm sorrys".

Not until it's too late, anyway.

Now, Jon watches, horrified as Cody Runnels, and his father alternate between applying pressure to Josh’s wounds, and checking for a pulse.

It all seems so hopeless. Their mother tries, and fails to shield him from seeing the panicked attempts at keeping Josh alive. The paramedics aren't too far, Jon can hear the blare of their sirens, even over Cody’s rushed words of, "stay with us, Josh. Please." "I got you, please."

Please, please, please.

Jon wonders if he's pleading with Josh or with the universe. He hopes it's both.

When the EMTs finally did arrive, Jon watched with tearful brown eyes as they carted Josh off and into the Ambulance. He watched as their father slipped in before the doors shut. He watched as Cody dropped to his knees and began to sob, his clothes ruined from the blood that was all over their living room floor. He doesn't know if he should comfort him or leave him be.

Jon didn't understand why Cody was crying. Was it because the situation was traumatic, even for them? Or was it because somewhere along the line, they'd become friends or something like it?

Sadly, Jon wasn't able to wonder very long before his mom was guiding him back into the house. She tried to rush them past the spots where Josh’s blood pooled the most, tried to keep the red stained floors from view, but Jon had already seen. Jon had already seen the state his brother was in when they found him. Had seen the lifeless tint to his skin.

He thought for sure Josh was gone, but somehow, in spite of his own attempts, he was still fighting. Still alive.

Weak, but alive. If the EMTs were to be trusted when they told him and their mom that Josh would be okay.

His mom tells him to pack a bag, one for himself and one for Josh.

He obliges.

When his own bag is packed and resting at the foot of his bed, Jon hurriedly slips into Josh’s room.

He ignores the knowledge that he hasn't been inside of his twin brother’s room in almost a year.

He pushes past the visible signs that his brother had been spiraling. There's beer cans littering just about every flat surface. There's papers everywhere, some ripped, some crumpled.

But, worst of all? It's significantly empty, all his posters are gone, leaving his walls bare, lackluster. His records are almost all missing. Which is a worrisome thing in itself considering how hard Josh worked to find them in the first place.

Hell, Josh doesn’t have a single trinket laying around his own room anymore. It looked as if he were just someone visiting, and that left a sour taste in Jon’s mouth.

His once extensive record collection has dwindled considerably. He barely has six left. Jon notes that almost all his favorite ones are gone, the remaining six are the ones he too found himself enjoying. Back when he and Josh still hung out. Before they moved, before Josh changed.

His clothes are all packed away in plastic crates, the kind meant for long term storage.

Jon doesn't let himself consider how long Josh had been planning this. If he did, he’d probably see all the signs he laid out for somebody to acknowledge.

He had long since swapped out his short-sleeved, tight shirts, for layers. His jeans followed the same fate, and were replaced by sweatpants and loose jeans. At the time, Jon assumed the cold had finally gotten to him. He thought he was just conforming to a life in their dull little town, the same as he did.

Instead of packing a bag, he reaches down and swipes up a piece of paper. It's crumpled beyond repair, but legible nonetheless.

"Dear Jon,

I'm sorry. For everything. I wasn't a good twin brother, and you deserved better than that.

I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from him, any longer. Please don't hate me for this, Jon.

If you have to hate me, hate me for how I treated you. But please don't hate me for this. There was no other way out for me,"

The letter gets cut off there, Jon guesses he wasn't pleased with how it was coming along.

Jon drops the paper with a soft gasp, his eyes filling with tears once again.

He had so many questions. Like who the person Josh was talking about in the letter? Who couldn’t he protect Jon from?

A feeling in his gut tells him it has to do with the way he limps home after spending the day with Joe, or the busted lip and black eyes he sports all too often. He was never that close with Joe, but Josh always was. Now though, Jon can’t help but wonder if they’re only close because Joe is forcing it. Forcing Josh.

He wouldn't cry though. Because Josh was going to be okay. He was going to get better, and Jon could be the twin brother he's always needed, and in turn he hopes he will at least try to be a proper brother to him. How he let his brother go on hurting this way will never sit right with him, but at the very least Jon can help now. He can fix things, even just a smidge.

He wants to read another unfinished note, but it feels like an invasion, because Josh might've been addressing him, but the letters were still in his possession.

Jon never hated him. Jon just followed the tune he played, it was better if Joe thought they were against one another. Even Jon knew that without needing to be told. There was always this controlling nature to him, this possessive attitude when it came to Josh.

But this whole situation? It changed the tune of the song, whether Josh intended for it to or not, Jon was no longer following his cues. He didn't need to, because when Josh came home, they'd write the song together.

With that in mind, Jon sets to pack his bag. It was easy, considering the way his clothes were packed up.

Jon, despite his protests, was sent to stay with Joe and his family for over a week. His aunt and uncle seemed genuinely concerned for their nephew, but Joe was just mildly put off that the twin he didn’t really associate with was the one staying with them.

Usually, staying with his uncle was a blessing, because Jon got to learn the things about wrestling their father couldn’t teach, but this time it was a dreadful affair.

He just wanted to go see Josh in the hospital, but he kept being told it wasn’t right to see him that way. As if he hadn't seen his brother lying in a pool of his own blood.

When Jon was able to go home, Josh still hadn't been released from the hospital. At dinner, he finally asked why that was.

Their dad seemed to tense up at the question, his fingers clutched his fork so tightly the metal all but bent at the action.

"He's not well, Jonathan. The doctors just want to keep him there a little longer to make sure nothing like this happens again." His mom's voice cut through the silence that followed his question.

Jon, feeling pissed off, and put out for some reason, just nodded and went back to eating his dinner.

Well, he tried at least. Most of it was burned, or just too bland.

Her mom was never a good cook, not like Josh, who would always manage to save their dishes in some way. He always caught them before they burned, or snuck in extra seasoning whenever their mom would turn her back.

It was another two weeks before Josh was meant to come home, only five days before it all, their father had taken off in the dead of night. He didn't leave a note, didn't even say goodbye. Jon can’t help but suspect that his father knew about whatever was happening with Josh, but had refused to be of any help to the boy who so clearly needed it.

To Jon’s knowledge, their mother hadn't cried when she realized her husband wouldn't be returning. She blared the music he often complained about, Josh’s favorite genre of music, and skirted around Josh’s bedroom. She had Jon help her unpack his belongings, his clothes returned to the closet, his scarce record collection was put into a proper display.

Cody even came by and hung Josh’s mirror up behind his door. To Jon’s surprise, he'd also replaced the posters that once covered the walls. He even went as far as to add additional posters, ones from bands Jon knew Josh enjoyed. He just didn't know why Cody also knew which bands he favored.

The day they set out to pick Josh up from the hospital, Jon had been buzzing with excitement. Three long weeks of not seeing Josh was finally coming to a close.

He couldn't remember the last time he had been so ready to see his twin, he thinks it might've been when their parents were only taking them individually to see their cousins.

They still lived in California, they still got along back then.

However, on the ride over, Jon was starting to regret agreeing to come along. He initially thought Josh had been in the Memorial Hospital, it was nearby, and equipped to take care of him.

But, when they drove beyond the town's limits, to a hospital in the next town over, Jon had thrown his head back with a groan.

Cody, who had offered to drive him and his mom, just laughed and glanced back at Jon when they pulled into a red light. "It's a long drive, right? I've made this drive at least six times this month."

Again, Jon was left to wonder just how close Cody and his brother had gotten without his knowing.

This time, however, he voiced his question to him.

The elder seemed to pause, his hands freezing in their place on the steering wheel. He was almost dazed until their mother laid a hand on his arm and whispered something Jon couldn't catch.

Whatever it was, was apparently enough to have him nodding his head and breathing out. "We're dating? He's my boyfriend, I guess. I mean, it was purely physical for a long time, but..."

Even though he sounded unsure, and was probably scolding himself for oversharing, Jon detected the smile in his voice. He was shocked, for a multitude of reasons. But, mostly because Cody was dating his brother. The mere thought had him gagging out loud, his face scrunched up in obvious displeasure. He was shocked his mother knew, but that was a topic to broach on a later date.

"Okay, chill! I got it, I ain’t need that last part, Uce." His mom was the first to dissolve into giggles, but both Jon and Cody were quick to follow suit.

It took almost thirty minutes before Josh was crossing the threshold of the hospital he'd spent nearly a month in. When he spotted Jon, his mother and Cody, it was obvious they hadn't seen him yet. So, Josh did what any sensible younger brother would do, and snuck up behind Jon. His eye caught Cody’s and he motioned for him to remain silent, before he was placing both hands on Jon’s shoulders and leaning into his space. "Hey, shitbird!"

Jon, who almost jumped out of his skin, turned around and flung himself into Josh’s arms. "Asshole!"

The latter caught him easily enough, his arms winding around his twin brother, both of them ignoring their mother’s gentle scolding.

It was at least a minute before Josh was playfully shoving him away, his face twisted up in mock anger, "alright enough, you're getting little bitch all over me!"

Jon just kissed his teeth before slapping his arm, his lips forming a light pout, "stop being an ass, I missed you!"

Josh just smirked at him, clicking his tongue as he glanced up at Cody, then at his mom.

There was a mischievous glint in his eye, one familiar to all of them.

Cody was the one to groan, "Josh, no, don't."

But, his plea fell on deaf ears, because two seconds later, Josh was saying, "You act like I almost died, Uce."

Again, Jon slapped his arm, this time with more power than the first one. "Don't joke about that, Josh!!"

His body seemed to betray his demands, because he was then giggling madly.

"Only you two would find this funny." Their mom just shook her head, her disappointment overshadowed by the fond twinge to her tone.

On the ride home, Jon and their mom both sat in the back, allowing Josh the opportunity to sit in the passenger seat.

He tried convincing Cody to let him drive, but he was quick to decline. None of them were too keen on the motion sickness that came with Josh’s fast, reckless driving.

Every time Cody glances in Josh’s direction, Jon can't help but to wonder if he's seeing the same image that flashes occasionally in his own mind.

Josh, not breathing, bleeding too much for any one person, he was thinner than Jon could recall.

It was like Josh had been replaced before their very eyes. Only, nobody noticed the way his cheeks seemed to sink in, or the way his eyes always held dark bags, even after hours, and hours of rest.

Once upon a time, Jon would've praised himself for how well he knew his twin brother, but recent events proved he knew very little about him. It had taken him nearly dying for him to see his pain. For anyone to see his pain. Jon wishes he would've seen Josh changing from abrasive to withdrawn for what it was. A cry for help. Instead, he wrote it off. He wrote Josh off.

He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

9 notes · View notes

taydaq · 1 year ago

Text

A few teasers for what's to come on AO3 later... ambreigns/romox: ❣️❣️

I almost forgot to add some tags: @catboymansion, @jackforshort, @sickfxckmox, @romoxsquad, and @cookiethewriter!

#my art #teasers #ambreigns #romox #dean ambrose x roman reigns #jon moxley x roman reigns #I cannot help it #drawing them comforts me when I'm feeling SAD #and you can see how often that is #LOL #LOTS of Dean appreciate that chest #if you couldn't already tell #I keep meaning to try and draw roman topping #BUT... I prefer him like this #XD

39 notes · View notes

acknowledge-reigns · 1 year ago

Text

#roman reigns #the tribal chief #wwe roman reigns #head of the table #the head of the table #joe anoa'i #my comfort person #acknowledge reigns edits

16 notes · View notes

rollinsland · 1 year ago

Text

I hope when RoRo comes back people in the online wrestling community don't jump on him if he doesn't say anything about Bray 😟 Everyone handles emotions differently and he may not wanna talk publicly Just let him come back tell us to Acknowledge him and be the adorable menace we all know and love 😂

#Roman Reigns #text #just let him do what he's comfortable with doing #been seeing quite a few people everywhere getting on him about this and he's not even on Smackdown rn #it's sad

4 notes · View notes

gremlintheslut · 2 years ago

Text

The shields little girl

Chapter 5 ∆ heat day 2

Master list(main pinned)

Don't repost, translate, etc my work without my consent

Warnings: restraints, listening to people have sex, unprotected sex, shower sex, daddy kink, ddlg, toys(vibrator),

I woke just like the last sweaty and dizzy. I want to wake up my alphas but we were up late and I want them to get some sleep. I roll over and try to fall back asleep but I fail miserably. After 40 minutes I gave up on sleep and just laid there awake as the pain I felt before returned. "you alright sweetheart?" I hear Dean mumble pulling me closer to him. "can't sleep" I say briefly. "why not?" he says half asleep. "hurts" I utter and he snaps awake.

He finally remembers I'm in heat. He sits up and looks down at my sweaty desperate face. He looks at the 2 men sleeping soundly next to us. "shower?" he whispers and I nod my head sitting up. We walk well more like tiredly stumble to the bathroom. He shut the door behind us and I begin to remove my clothes. I turn around now fully naked he has just finished getting undressed. He puts his hands on my waist and guides us to the shower.

Once we're in, he pushes me against the tile wall. He turns on the shower and we both get blasted with cold water. We both squirm to get away from the freezing-cold torture chamber that is the shower. I step onto the tile flooring of the bathroom and can't help but giggle at what had just happened. Dean laughs with me. He turns on some hot water and grabs my waist once again. His lips attach to mine as we wait for the water to heat up. I feel his tongue glide against my lip asking to enter. I part my lips and feel his tongue on mine.

We fight for dominance even though we both know who will win. His right-hand moves from my waist and dips into the water streaming from the shower head. After only a second his hand returns to my waist and pulls us under the now lukewarm water. He once again pushes me against the tile wall and we both stay put. I feel his erection poking my stomach. Both his hands move to the back of my thighs. "jump" he mutters against my lips. I do as he asks and he catches me. I wrap my legs around his waist and I feel his tip at my entrance.

He slowly pushes into me and I moan against his mouth. Inch by inch he goes in until he's balls deep in me. I moan and press my face into the crook of his neck. He slowly pulls out and thrust back in continuously. He picks up the pace quite quickly and begins to pound me into the wall. "fuck, you feel so good baby" he groans in my ear as he fucks my cunt hard and fast. I am unable to form any words at all.

Then my eyes go wide as someone bangs on the bathroom door. "hurry up or I'm peeing off the balcony!" roman yells through the door and we hear heavy foots walking away. I look at Dean my face redder than a tomato and he chuckles shaking his head at Reigns' words. I let out a particularly loud moan as he hits my spot. "right there" I almost yell. "right here?" he says hitting my spot hard over and over again. "yes, fuck!" I moan. I know Roman and Seth are both awake and hearing all of this and I don't care.

I feel a thumb rub against my clit and I feel the familiar coil in my lower tummy tighten. "daddy I'm gonna cum!" I cry out loudly wanting Roman and Seth to hear. The coil gets tighter and tighter as Dean keeps fucking me. "cum for me doll face" he says on the verge of his very own orgasm. With those five words, I clench around him and come undone as his warm seed fills me. He kisses me on the cheek. "you did so well" he says as he picks up a washcloth and helps clean me up.

Time skip 35 mins later

I'm dry and have my clothes on now. I walk towards the door and unlock it before opening it. Then I hear Seth and Roman giving both me and Dean a slow clap as we walk out of the bathroom. "shut up" I mumble my face turning red. I feel Romans' arms wrap around my waist. "did you want us to hear?" he whispers into my ear. "Didn't you have to pee?" I say try to get away. "I told you I would pee off of the balcony, now answer the question" he replies. "so what if I did?" I say a smirk appearing on my lips.

"you admit it?" Seth asks. "yeah I do," I say more confidently than I had meant to. I look at Seth's face and for a moment I feel proud at how flustered he looks. Then I feel Romans' erection poking against me as he pulls me towards the bed. I feel my heart race as he pins me to the bed. "fucking whore" he growls against my neck. I see Dean walking over with something in his hand. I know I'm in for it when I finally realize what it is. He's holding handcuffs. When he reaches the bed he grabs my arms and Roman pulls away from my neck to get out of his way. Dean pins my arms above my head and puts the handcuffs on me. "too tight?" he asks and I shake my head. "what's your safe word?" "red" "good girl" he kisses my cheek and takes a step back looking at me.

Roman continues his assault on my neck and I notice Seth is gone. Then I see him. Out of the corner of my eye, he is holding a familiar black bag. It's my bag of toys but not the kind I play with when I'm little. "you wanna explain angel?" Seth asks and I freeze up. "no?" I'm still frozen and can't defend myself in any way. Then he opens the bag. He chuckles as he looks into the very full bag. Roman pulls my pants and panties down in one movement. Then he removes my shirt leaving me fully nude. Seth pulls a wand vibrator. My face goes bright red but I can't help but feel excited. He inspects the toy before passing it to Roman. "you really are a whore" he says looking me in the eyes as he turns it on.

I feel him press it against my clit and I press my face against my arm to hide it. Dean grabs my chin and pulls my face back into their view. Roman puts it on the highest setting and I squirm as it's the first time I've ever used it on that setting. They watch me squirm all of them clearly amused. Roman grabs my waist to hold me still. "sit still princess" he warns and I try my best to keep still. I can't help but jolt every few seconds at the waves of pleasure I am receiving. I am already close to cuming. "daddy! Can I cum? Can I please cum?!" I cry loudly a few seconds away from my orgasm. "no" he answers bluntly. I try my best to hold back. "ple-ahh please?" I plead. But before he even answers me I tip over the edge. He keeps the vibrator on my clit as I come down from my high but turns it off when I'm done.

I open my eyes and see three furious faces staring at me.

"fuck"

Continued in the next chapter

-----------------------------------------

Words-1311

Thanks for reading love ya-gremlin 💋💕💞

154 notes · View notes

msbigredmachine · 3 months ago

Text

Kitty Kat (Roman Reigns)

After a lifetime of searching, the Tribal Chief may have finally found the woman of his dreams. Post Summerslam 2024.

Warnings: SMUT (yes i know its excessive im sorry 😭)

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: This got way too long bc I talk too much. I tried to shorten it I promise but I just couldn't. I do hope you like it either way...

Song inspiration: Again - Lenny Kravitz

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs

-------------------

He could get used to this.

As he stepped off the plane, Joe discreetly adjusted the bulge in his pants and exhaled deeply, allowing himself a giddy smile in anticipation for what was to come.

He couldn’t wait to see her again. His Kitty Kat. The interesting part was that this time, she’d flown him out to come spend the week with her, in First Class, no less. “It’s a five-hour flight from Cleveland to L.A., so I want you to be as comfortable as possible, Daddy,” she’d told him. Never in his wildest dreams did he envision being ‘flewed out’. He’d been the one flying her out in his private jet, chartering luxury vehicles to bring her to him. The reverse felt strange and would take some getting used to, but it did feel nice to be pampered and taken care of for once.

Seated comfortably in the back of the Cadillac Escalade driving him through the City of Angels, he reminisced about last night in Cleveland. It was fun to hear the crowd again, the adrenaline rush of his entrance music blaring all around the Browns Stadium. It was a long absence from wrestling for him, darkened by the passing of his father, followed by the whirlwind preparation and execution of his funeral, grand, exhausting and emotional. Kat being by his side for all of it was a precious elixir he could never repay her for, but perhaps he could start tonight.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. It was an unknown number, but against his better judgment, he answered and hoped it wasn’t some weirdo fan. “Hello?”

“You left town without telling me? I saw you all over Summerslam last night!” the shrill, familiar voice responded.

Scratch that. Now he wished it was a fan. “I know I blocked your ass. This is stalking,” was his cold greeting.

“I just want us to talk, Joe! We can’t just end things the way we did!”

“Ain’t nothin’ to talk about, Ebony. I got the DNA test I wanted. Go find your baby daddy and leave me the fuck alone.”

“Are you ever gonna forgive me? I made a mistake!” Ebony pleaded. “You didn’t even invite me to Sika’s funeral. That hurt my feelings, Joe.”

“Bitch, don’t piss me off!” Joe countered angrily. “Blurting out that I’m not Josiah’s daddy was not a mistake! I also found the messages in your phone, remember? You and your little group chat laughed at me, laughed about me raising a kid that ain't mine!”

“That’s a female ass trait, y’know, lookin’ through my phone and invading my privacy!” Ebony complained.

“You can invade these nuts,” Joe dismissed, “You cheated on me and lied about the paternity of your son! That’s enough for me to wash my hands off of you and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

For a second, Ebony was quiet. Then, “Let me guess. You’re with that uppity rich bitch. She was at your dad’s funeral, both of y'all looked so cozy in the videos. She's the reason you don’t wanna work things out, right? Weren’t you seeing her before we broke up? Who’s the cheater now, huh?”

Joe scoffed in disbelief. After all she’d done to make his life a living hell, she was still gaslighting him. “We were over long before I started seeing her. I only hung around cuz I thought the kid you were carrying was mine. Don’t act like your whorish toxic ways didn’t drive me into her arms in the first place! You broke us up, so I’ve moved on from your evil ass. Simple.”

Ebony kissed her teeth. “You are so disrespectful to me, always have been. You never cared about me. It was all about your fucking wrestling. You were always gone! I was lonely! I needed you and you didn't give a shit!”

“So that’s why you opened your legs for some bum, got knocked up, and lied that I was the father? You disrespected yourself!” He felt himself getting riled up and had to compose himself. He would not let his ex ruin his day. “Imma make this clear so even you can understand. We. Are. Done. Call me again and it’s my attorney you’ll be talking to.” Cutting off the call, he then blocked the number and deleted it for added measure.

Fuck that ho.

Anyway, back to his girl, Kat. It had been an amazing few months so far with her. Of course, he’d googled her in the beginning, asked Heyman to run a background check to make sure she was legit and not a psychopath like his ex. Katrina Sullivan was one of the most famous music producers in the world and the top executive at her renowned publishing label. She was a big time player in her industry just like he was, a star in her own right, and it was a match made in Heaven.

Not only was she incredibly beautiful, but sex with her was a wild ride. She gave him a run for his money whenever they fucked. She was all about new experiences and wasn’t too prissy to fuck inside a car or suck him off outside a dive bar. He blushed every time he remembered the freaky shit they got up to after his loss at Wrestlemania. Long story short, she made him feel much better about dropping the belt. He loved that she loved sex as much as he did, and if he wasn’t hooked on her before, he was completely addicted after that night.

And it wasn’t all about the physical. There was an emotional bond they shared, a connection that he’d never felt with anyone else before her. Talking with her felt like talking with a friend. He would unload his good days and bad days on her and she would listen to all of it without passing judgment. He did the same for her and was proud to be the one she learned to trust after her own past heartbreaks. Joe wished he’d had the courage to leave Ebony earlier. Perhaps he would have found the woman who had become his peace, his safe haven, and closed the hole in his heart much, much sooner.

A Google Map search helped him find the best florist in town. The ladies in the shop ooh'ed and ahh'ed over the beautiful bouquet of roses he bought and how lucky his lady was. But he thought he was the lucky one. As he took a deep breath and inhaled the flowers, he felt his stomach flutter at the thought of her beautiful face, her smile, her warm embrace. Joe knew he was in love, but he didn’t quite know how to tell her yet. It was weird enough that he lowkey felt like a thot being flown out. He really didn’t mind, though. All he wanted was to be with her and just be in her presence, in her aura. He would tell her when he was ready.

-----------------

Kat’s mansion was the stuff of dreams. Isolated on the hills of the Pacific Palisades overlooking lush Californian greenery, it was one of her rewards as the most in-demand producer in music today. The living room segued into the kitchen, which welcomed him with the smell of freshly cooked food. Pasted to her stainless steel refrigerator by a small circular ‘Acknowledge Me’ magnet, was a note from her saying that she’d just headed out for a last-minute meeting and directed him to the oven where a warm skillet of sirloin steak and seasoned roasted potatoes waited for him. She had also stocked her fridge with his Megafit meals along with C4 Energy drinks and a few bottles of her own branded tequila. His baby was spoiling him rotten and he was digging it.

He first put the fresh flowers in a vase he filled with water before settling down to eat. He wished she was here with him, but he understood more than anyone how busy things could be when you were at the top of your game. He was proud of her and wanted her to get all the coins she deserved. Halfway through his meal, he pulled out his phone and checked on her.

After dinner, he embarked on a little tour around her breathtaking abode which ended up taking several minutes to complete. Joe had some nice homes of his own around the globe, but this floored them all. The edifice dripped with luxury and was crafted to perfection, just like his Kitty Kat was. He enjoyed the gorgeous city view from her balcony as he sipped on some tequila. Her bathroom was spacious and had a waterfall shower that he luxuriated in when he stepped inside. One side of her walk-in wardrobe was lined with an assortment of brand new t-shirts, pants and dress shirts all for him. Of course she knew his size; she’d ripped his clothing off of him on many occasions. His stomach was doing flips as the time continued to tick by. It was hilarious that the big bad Tribal Chief was acting all giddy at the mere thought of a woman, but here he was, entangled in her expensive satin sheets, counting down the minutes until she was back in his arms.

----------------

The sound of running water jerked him awake. The plane ride must have worn him out more than he thought; he didn’t even realize when he fell asleep. The sky outside was now pitch black but the bathroom lights were switched on. As he sat upright in the bed, something rolled down his bare chest and onto his lap. He looked down and his breath hitched. A sheer, baby pink-colored thong, just removed. Unable to resist, he held it up to his nose and shivered as her sensual aroma filled his nostrils and sent all his blood rushing south. With newfound enthusiasm, he climbed out of the bed and padded over to the bathroom.

Katrina’s back was turned to him, standing over the tub as she drained the bath. Draped in a fluffy lilac bathrobe that barely covered her backside as she bent over, Joe chose to stand there and admire her, letting his eyes follow the rivulets of water that trickled down her long shapely legs. He trailed his gaze along the backs of her knees and her oh-so-sexy thighs, stopping at her luscious derrière where he found her pussy lips, slick and glistening, winking at him. He groaned out loud at the sight, feeling his bulge stir in his drawstring shorts.

Alerted by the noise he made, Kat spun around and sighed. "Oh, damn," she frowned and bounced her fist against her thigh.

Joe raised an eyebrow at her reaction. “Did I frighten you?”

“Not really. I wanted to wake you up by sucking your dick.”

Chuckling heartily, he stepped closer. "You still can, baby. Don’t let me stop you,” he said, sealing their lips together in a kiss he’d been thinking about for weeks. He held her tight, molding their bodies together as time seemed to stop all around them. The anticipation had been building all day and just this moment alone was worth the long wait.

Joe sighed happily against her lips, his fingers massaging the back of her neck. “Mmm, I can tell you missed me. Did you miss me, baby?”

“You know I did, Daddy,” she whispered back. It had been months in the making, but Kat was thrilled that he was finally here in her humble abode. She pulled back to regard him, marveling at the sheer height and width of him, his bare, broad chest showcasing that beautiful tattoo and all those muscles. Fuck, he was so hot. “I saw the roses in the kitchen, they’re beautiful,” she said.

“Not as beautiful as you are, baby,” Joe answered, brushing his thumb along her bottom lip. “How was your meeting?”

Kat huffed and rolled her eyes. “Waste of my time. Don’t really wanna talk about it,” she added, changing the topic to a more exciting one. “You looked so good last night, babe. I could see how happy you were to be back.”

“I was,” he admitted, his light brown eyes lighting up. “Bro, hearing the fans go bananas when my music hit was insane. And all those fingers in the air, too. Four years of bustin' my ass finally paying off.”

“Huh. I had one finger out too, but it wasn’t in the air, and I was layin’ in bed. Naked,” Kat teased, fluttering her long eyelashes at him.

The thought of her writhing around in bed aroused by his show of violence caused another tightening in his shorts. With a growl in his voice, he responded, "Show me."

“Wait.” She put up one hand before he could grab her. “Before we get started…I never got to ask you because we were so busy with the funeral…But did you take the DNA test?” she asked, watching with dismay as his face fell. He looked away with a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, something she learned he did when he was reeling in his emotions.

“Yeah. Josiah’s not mine,” he replied sadly.

Two distinct emotions of her own rushed through Kat at this news. Relief, that he was no longer tied to Ebony and he could now, finally, move on with his life. Move on with her. Disappointment, on his behalf, knowing that he had enjoyed getting to know the baby boy he’d thought was his child. “I’m so sorry,” was all she could muster.

“Don’t be. At least I know the truth now. I care about the kid, but he’s not my responsibility any more,” he choked out, the sting of losing that sweet little boy still raw and painful.

“Oh, baby.” Kat rubbed her hands up and down his broad back to soothe him. She regretted downing the mood and sought to fix it. “What can I do?”

Joe shook his head and sank into her embrace. “Just be with me, like this. I wanna be with you. Thank you for bringing me out here, it’s exactly what I needed.”

“Of course. You know I gotchu,” she assured him, butterflies sprouting inside her belly as he dropped feather-light kisses on her neck, trailing along her shoulder which was soon bare as he slipped off her robe and dropped it to the floor. She tugged down his shorts and her hungry gaze zeroed in on that other part of him that she missed. All those FaceTime calls and selfies did very little justice to the real thing. This was his first time on her turf, and she was determined to use this week wisely, especially as this extended period didn’t quite exist before.

In the beginning, their meetings were brief and eventful, a couple of hours’ escape from the madness going on in their individual lives. Meet up, scorch the sheets, and wake to the sound of the rustle of clothes pulled from the floor, the sharp zipping of bags, quick kisses goodbye followed by the front door quietly clicking open and shut. At each other’s mercy at sunset then disappearing before dawn to resume reality. It was a thrill at first but as time passed, Kat realized she wanted more with him. She wanted to begin and end her days in his sturdy arms. Wanted them to shower together, to eat together and spend much more time together. Simply put, she wanted to be a real couple, and she was ecstatic when he confessed that he wanted the same. Coming to L.A. was a great start and it excited Kat to no end.

Hand in hand, they walked together, naked, out of the bathroom. She giggled as he followed closely behind her, kissing her neck and touching her body along the way. As they reached the bed, Joe noticed the bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket full of ice on the nightstand. Kat read his mind. “Just a lil’ sumn to celebrate your arrival,” she clarified, as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her to stand between his legs. His gaze was soft, yet beautifully intense as he ran his hands up her thighs and her hips, cupping her backside and bringing her even closer to him. He pressed his lips to her stomach, adorning her belly with gentle, open-mouthed kisses that felt so good she moaned pleasurably in approval.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered against her brown skin, his voice clear yet filled with a vulnerability he’d never felt before.

Kat smiled down at him. “Took you long enough. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“For real?” His heart pounding so hard in his chest he was sure she could hear it.

Her smile widened as she loosened his ponytail, letting the long dark locks fall and frame his breathtaking features like the angel he was. Her angel. “Yeah. I mean…After everything we’ve shared, after getting to know the beautiful person that you are, of course I’m in love with you too.”

They were words he’d been hoping to hear from her for a while now, and now that he had, he was robbed of every sensation other than joy and peace and the burning need to make love to her nonstop for the rest of his stay in the West Coast. “You’re beautiful too, baby girl,” he rasped, drawing her back in, “So fuckin’ beautiful…”

They clung to each other, making out with increasing passion, both of them extremely aroused and more desperate than ever in the wake of this wonderful revelation. As they kissed, he slipped one hand over her breast, kneading gently, eliciting from her those purring sounds that earned her sexy little nickname. He missed his Kitty Kat so much. The last time they were together was at his father’s funeral, and he couldn't be with her the way he wanted to be. Now that they were all alone there was nothing stopping him from having his way with her.

But apparently, she had other plans.

She pushed him hard in the chest, smirking at his surprised grunt as he hit the mattress rather unceremoniously. “Get in,” she instructed him.

He frowned petulantly at her, but did as he was told, dragging himself backwards up the bed with his eyes on her at all times. He felt his mouth go dry as she crawled towards him on all fours like the sexy ass kitten she was. As she reached the space between his open legs, she surprised him by picking up her thong and winding it around his wrists, securing it tight before pushing his arms over his head.

“Baby…” he pouted.

“Shhhh,” Kat shushed him quietly, thrilled by the submission in his eyes, the surrender in his soft moan, his dick hard and erect in anticipation. Having control over a man like him felt so empowering. Though sexually submissive to him, Kat always enjoyed it when the roles were switched. It never lasted long though, so she planned to make the most of it.

Climbing back down his body, she rubbed her hands on the expanse of his thighs, his caramel skin warm beneath her fingers. She moved higher, coming dangerously close to the pleasure between his legs but avoiding it, for now. She wanted to touch it but the wait was more exciting. Her hands disappeared to squeeze his ass cheeks, and then reappeared over his hips, traveling along the sharpened ridges of his six-pack abs and up to his broad chest. Her body followed suit, sliding up until her thighs bracketed his sides. The little hiss that escaped him as she sat on his torso thrilled her; she knew right away that he could feel her warm moistness against his skin. Her fingers found his nipples next, toying with them before leaning in to lick them, and giggled with amusement when his dick sprang high enough to smack against her backside.

“Fuck, baby, feel what you do to me?” Joe hissed, his cock jumping again as her mouth warmed his neck, nibbling on the shell of his ear as she whispered to him in the softest, deadliest timbre:

"I’m just getting started, big guy."

Sitting upright on top of him, she reached for the ice bucket, scooping out an ice cube in the shape of an exquisite diamond. The ravenous look in Joe’s eyes matched hers as she sipped on the cube, letting the cold melt on her tongue and travel down her throat. Then, she bent down and kissed him, her cold tongue quickly warming up from the heat of his mouth. The wet muscles moved together in a sweet dance, delightedly intertwining, obsessed with the taste of each other. Kat pressed the ice cube to his chest, giggling when he jerked from the cold, and drew figure eights with it, watching rivulets of water trickle down the sides of his body. She put the ice cube on his right nipple and watched it harden. Then she replaced the ice with her warm mouth on his cold nipple.

“Shit, baby you killin’ me,” he moaned, looking on with hooded eyelids as she kissed down his body. She stopped between his legs, bowing her body in front of his erection, long and thick and hard, precum glistening on his slit. Her tongue darted out to taste it, licking her lips with pleasure. Giving him a sly wink, she took the tip of his dick in her mouth and sucked, winding her tongue around the head like a hungry snake. The moan that escaped his lips was needy and borderline painful, causing her eyes to light up in triumph.

“When I get my hands on you…” he growled, his expression almost pissed, but Kat knew better. His frustration mingled with his lack of control, control she’d taken from him all day by calling the shots from his travel to the food he ate. The sensual power play continued as she massaged his dick, the thick velvety flesh twitching in her hands as his hands twitched in his makeshift binds. Using the flat of her tongue, she licked up and down his shaft, making slurping sounds that were drowned out by his groans as she spread her saliva all over his dick. She was addicted. He tasted so good and she craved to have her fill.

Putting a smaller ice cube in her mouth, she chewed it, crushing the ice with her teeth. From there, she hugged his dick with her lips, dousing the heat of his flesh with the coldness of her throat. Tiny bits of ice melted against his shaft as she sucked and tongued every inch of him. She could feel his chest heaving and his abs crunching, could hear his strangled moans as he got warmer and got harder in her mouth. He was right where she wanted him. Resting her weight on his burly thighs, she moaned to him to let go, and smiled when seconds later a shout burst from him, his hips arching off the bed as he unloaded down her throat. She drank her fill of him, glancing up to watch the pleasure ravage his huge body, giving a little smile as he floated down back to earth.

“Oh my god…” he breathed, his body jerking when she pulled away, letting his dick, slick with her spit and his cum, plop down on his thigh. With one more long, soft kiss to his length, she slithered back up his body, pressing her lips to his for a sweet, delicate kiss which heavily contrasted with the heaviness of his dick brushing along her now-wet opening. Pleasing him turned her on in a way her notoriously composed self could never comprehend.

“You came so hard for me, baby. The look on your face was everything,” Kat gifted him a teasing lash of her tongue against his as she ran her hands up his arms to toy with the sheer material holding him hostage. Lifting her body up, she slowly sank down on his dick, a gasp slipping from her when the smooth tip pierced through her soft, slick folds, enabling her to wind her hips to take him all the way in. They both moaned as the thickness of him nudged her sweet spot, coaxing a whine out of her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting him close, making out with him while slowly rocking her body back and forth, grinding her clit on him. It stunned her to this day, how she was able to take him all, his length and girth filling her and hitting her most sensitive spot right away. The power that coursed through her at making him succumb to her will, no different from any pinning combination or submission move, was intoxicating. Her moans and his groans reverberated through the bedroom, the air thick with the scent of sex as she loved on him.

“Untie me. Now,” Joe commanded out of nowhere, the roughness of his tone surprising Kat. One look at the power and pleasure on his beautiful face told her he was not taking no for an answer. Obediently, she reached up and unraveled the underwear from around his wrists, and she had barely tossed it aside when his hands came around her, finding her backside and thrusting deeper into her. Finally, he could touch her the way he wanted. He loved her ass, enjoyed the feel of it gyrating against his palms. He landed a heavy-handed slap on it, making her burrow her face in his neck with a soft cry, the sound growing more desperate as his fingers caressed the supple flesh of her ass while grinding up into her, making her feel so good.

“Such a badass bitch, yet so weak for me. Weak for this dick,” he purred to her with a kiss to her shoulder. The wicked gleam in his eyes had Kat both frustrated and aroused, but the unmistakable glimpse of lust clouding those eyes showed he was just as weak for her. With every downward motion of her hips, she could see him become more mesmerized, his breaths huskier, his face contorting with unbridled bliss as her pussy squeezed his length in deep, throbbing pulls. Sensing him trying to regain control, she beat him to it, pushing up and steadying herself on top of him. With both hands planted on his strong chest, she adjusted her legs in a squat and began bouncing on his dick, up and down, fucking him, taking from him what she wanted, giving him what he needed.

“Fuck, that’s it, kitten, ride the shit outta my dick,” Joe groaned, his huge hands now clamped around her waist. “I’m here now, baby. I gotchu. Take it out on me, take all that stress out on me.” It was a wonder to watch her, her knees up and wide apart, treating him to the sight of her moist flesh gliding all the way down his turgid flesh and back up, leaving the base of his dick a wet, slippery mess. It looked incredible and felt even better. “You so wet for me, baby girl,” he rasped, reaching up to massage her bouncing breasts. “I love it when you use me. You love using Daddy’s big dick, huh?”

"Yes, Daddy I love it...Shiiit, oh my goddd!" Kat threw her head back, her moans shaky, her body trembling on top of him as waves of ecstasy washed over her thanks to the orgasm wracking her from head to toe.

“Unnhh yeah, come for Daddy, come on my dick,” he moaned back to her, his full lips parted and panting, his eyes boring into hers as he watched her come undone. Overcome with passion, he sat upright and tugged her flush against him, his breath hitching as the action sank him even deeper into her. He needed to hold her to him, needed to make her all his. “I ain’t pullin’ out,” he announced, moving her on him again, “I'ma come all up inside you, baby.”

His words sank in, but any coherent answer she had disappeared with another rake of his dick against her g-spot. Wordlessly, Kat snuggled into his warm embrace, locking her arms and legs around him as she continued to grind on him in a deliciously erotic rhythm. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Joe planted a big kiss upon her throat, her jaw, then her lips, enjoying the taste of her moans as his hips rolled along with hers like a choreographed dance. Emotions were high as they joined as one, surrounded by the sounds of the newfound love they were finally expressing to each other. The mattress bounced beneath them, the legless bed rocking in tune with their heated bodies rocking on top of it. Every worry they had was gone and replaced with a hunger and need for the other that they both knew they would never be able to satiate.

"I love you," Joe whispered, pushing her hair out of her eyes to gaze into them.

“I love you too, baby...oh fuck,” Kat panted, burying her face in his shoulder, her hands sliding down to grip his ass as she bucked her hips like a mad woman. Joe moved with her, not missing a single beat. His own release was building fast within him, too fast. The blood was pounding in his head and tightening his balls as her pussy squeezed his cock so tight he was having a hard time catching his breath. They soon realized they were climaxing together, both shaking from the intense, throbbing waves of pleasure. Kat’s toes curled into the sheets as she felt his warm fluid gushing into her pussy just like he wanted, felt his body pulse as hard as his dick pulsing deep inside of her. No piece of music, no music video she created could ever compare to the magic she made with this incredible man, ever be as beautiful as the sight of his face scrunching up helplessly as his orgasm consumed him. So she kept her eyes on him for as long as she could, watching all the emotions sweep his gorgeous visage like an unforgettable movie.

An eternity later, their movements slowed, their breathing calmed, their hearts racing as one as the world returned to normal. Joe felt light as air as he fell back onto the bed, Kat melting into him with her head on his chest, where his heart beat for her. He was still inside her and she kept him there, wanted to be filled with all his love in the very best way.

“Welcome home, my love,” she giggled, soothed by his own throaty chuckle vibrating against her skin. Her eyes fluttered shut as his lips pressed her forehead. She wished she could bottle the sound of his laugh, the feeling of his soft lips, bottle this very moment forever.

“Glad to be home, my love,” he answered, his fingers caressing her back as he kissed her mouth. “I can tell my time in L.A. is gonna be fun.”

"Mm-hmm. We got all week, Daddy," Kat eyed him with a sly smile, tracing her manicured index finger along his tattooed pectoral, "Like I said, we're just getting started."

THE END.

--------------

A/N: This is the only story I've had the energy to complete. I'd love to know your thoughts!

🏷️: @wrestlingprincess80 @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @harmshake @tribalhoochie @alyyaanna @jstarr86 @murrylove @thewarlordsworld @mzv11 @cozyaliensuperstar7 @nayys-world @hunnidmilly @cyberdejos2 @papireigns-05 @niknakbucks92 @captainwithoutmakingitlove @sovereigngoth @aisharmi @kennedi0818 @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @herwickedlittlesins @questionable-behaviour @tribalchiefreigns @2-muchsauce @thatbxtchsblog @raya-hunter01 @marchi36753 @lovelysuccess @christinabae @wooahmiri @thatonecarebear @tabletheofhead @rheaanddamianfan @vebner37 @hanley1577 @princessesareforsuckers @-naturally @joannasteez @bbygirlky18 @lilucey @theninthwonder @melaninsugababy @chocovibesonly @msbluehaz3 @scarlettnoir01 @heerah34 @empressdede @tbmotw @darkangelchronicles @visionarymode @marasdeathnote @aintnorainbows @meggylynnloves @shantinextdoor @femdisa @harlemblipster @trc-punzel @afterdarkprincess @nbanenefrmdao @sassginaswanmills @purplehairgawdess @holisticcoach @girlwhogaf @royalkay23 @heyitsnajabrinee @stoner2k @reci1996 @catxo @iamimanim @lookmais @ts1mp0ne @lizzyd1ish @m3llowww @skyesthebomb @final1miya @kia1996 @randomuser0711 @yourtribalqueen @caramelcleopatraa @katymae12344 @that-one-anxious-mango @yana3sworld @ajenae @truefant4sy @thetribalqueen @bhjszsdxc @christinabae @justazzi @maknaehyucks @mindairy @headoftheetable @truefant4sy @mscarter213 @ariiaeltheedonn @sageispunk @xbriexx @shamaness11 @whatdoeseverybodywant @paigereeder @heauxvibez

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns imagines #roman reigns x black oc #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x oc #the bloodline #the tribal chief #the otc

517 notes · View notes

bumblesimagines · 4 months ago

Text

The Beasts of The North

Request: Yes or No

Summary: When Jace travels to the North to meet with the Lord of Winterfell, he expects to meet the well-known Wolf the North. What he didn't expect was a bear residing in Winterfell as well.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, unknown age gap since (Y/N) is early to mid twenties and Cregan is mid twenties, technically not HOTD Cregan personality or appearance wise rip (inspired by Cordeliacordate on Ao3's interpretation of Cregan),

So sorry to Tom Taylor but he is not what I envision when I think of Cregan 😭 I always saw Cregan looking more like Roman Reigns or Alexander Dreymon as Uhtred

~~~

By the time the sun began to rise, Winterfell had already come alive with the hustle and bustle of servants, residents, and villagers coming and going as they began their routines. The mixture of chatter, laughter, occasional yipping of a dog, and the sound of birds singing and squawking floated through the cracked open window, reaching the ears of the two men lying beneath bundles of furs and blankets to keep them warm from the cold.

"Cregan," (Y/N) sighed, sleep oozing out of him ever so slowly. The bed just felt oh so comfortable and heavenly, enticing him to sleep for a few more hours. There was much to be done, though, and he couldn't allow himself nor Cregan to forget lest they risked an earful from Sara. "The princeling will likely arrive today."

"Aye," Came the gruff, sleepy response from the lord, his strong arms still coiled tightly around (Y/N) and showing no signs of releasing him so they could both begin their day. Instead of climbing out of bed and preparing himself for the day ahead, Cregan pulled (Y/N) closer to his chest and nuzzled his face against the back of his neck, the fuzz of his beard scratching and tickling him.

(Y/N) pushed his cheek into the soft silk of the pillow beneath his head, savoring the feeling for a moment before he forced himself to sit up and detach from Cregan. One of the furs slipped downward from his chest, exposing his skin to the coldness of the room, though (Y/N) had grown acclimated to the harsh temperature of the North. Cregan made a low rumbling noise of discontentment, his hands blindly searching for his lover but (Y/N) slipped out of bed before Cregan could wrangle him back into his embrace.

"We wouldn't wish to leave a bad impression on the princeling, would we, Cregan?" (Y/N) spoke teasingly, echoing back the words Sara had told them when they received word of Prince Jacaerys intent to fly out to Winterfell on his dragon. Neither of them were fools, however, and they'd rapidly pieced together the reason why when they received word of the boy prince's uncle, Aegon Targaryen, being crowned in King's Landing over Rhaenyra Targaryen. War was brewing, and both sides needed an army before it could spill over.

"Mm," Cregan responded, grunting softly as he pushed himself up against the headboard, the wood creaking beneath the weight of his sturdy back. His black hair had loosened free from the bun he'd wrapped it in before bed, resting and brushing over his shoulders in a mess of bedhair he'd have to brush before they broke their fast. His gray eyes watched him, lingering on (Y/N)'s nether regions with a curl of his lips until they were covered up by pants. "Starks never forget their oaths. We hardly need to be reminded of 'em."

"I detest the idea of a royal guest as much as you do, Cregan, especially one raised to believe in the Seven." (Y/N) reminded him, the warmth of the stone floor digging into the bottom of his feet as he crossed the room to close the window, finding himself thankful for whichever Stark had the idea of building the Great Keep over natural hot springs. Through the window frost, he could see those walking around below, preparing for the feast that'd be held in honor of their guest. "But supporting the boy and his mother would be better than supporting the Hightower lot."

"The boy," Cregan echoed and chuckled breathily, his fingers scratching at his chin before he tugged the furs and blankets off himself and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He rose with a heavy, still exhausted sigh and approached him, an arm wrapping around his shoulder and lips pressing against his temple. "You're hardly much older than him, I hear. Besides, you were once new to Winterfell. Perhaps you can help him get accustomed to how things are around here."

"What if he's a spoiled brat and I cannot stand to be around him?" (Y/N) groaned softly at the thought and rolled his head back to rest it on Cregan's shoulder. Cregan smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek next, his palm lightly squeezing his shoulder before his thumb rubbed into the exposed skin soothingly. (Y/N)'s eyes flickered away from the roof to study the side of his lover's face. "Or what if I like him enough to entice him into bed, hm? What will you do then?"

Cregan laughed heartily and spun him around to press their chests together, his hands dropping to grasp at (Y/N)'s hips and hold him still. He dipped his head and kissed him properly on the lips, swallowing the mischievous giggle that left (Y/N). He grew back with crinkled eyes and pressed his forehead against (Y/N)'s. "I doubt some little princeling will catch your eye, my darling. He'd likely be the one trying to entice you, even with that attitude of yours."

"That attitude had you tripping over your own feet to sweep me off mine." (Y/N) lightly jabbed his finger into Cregan's chest, feeling the lord's body shake with another laugh. Cregan didn't bother to deny his words and instead pecked the bridge of his nose, rubbing his hands into (Y/N) hips before pulling away to finally get dressed.

Following suit, (Y/N) collected the rest of his clothes off the floor and slipped out of Cregan's bedchambers into his own across the hall, discarding the old clothes on the bed and greeting the maids that fluttered in to help him get dressed. The wool fabric pressed and dragged against his skin, the layers of clothing warming his chilly skin in a matter of minutes. By the time he finished, Cregan had dressed too, and together they headed down the hall and down a set of stairs.

"Good morrow, you two." Sara greeted them from her spot by the table and casted them a glance over her shoulder, little Rickon fastened to her hip with two fingers in his mouth. His big brown eyes turned toward them and brightened, a wide smile breaking out on his chubby face at the mere sight of his father. He looked so much like his mother, Lady Arra Norrey, in certain lights, especially in his gleeful moments.

"Hello, my little pup." Cregan greeted softly when he scooped his young son into his arms, nuzzling his nose into the boy's belly just to hear him crack up with laughter. He freely slumped against Cregan's chest and (Y/N) pressed a fleeting kiss to his small temple, a smile tugging at his lips when Rickon giggled in response.

"Prince Jacaerys should be arriving soon." Sara reminded them like a mother would her children, turning away once she finished her conversation with two servants to face them. Despite her status as a bastard, Sara took care of things around Winterfell just as much as Cregan and (Y/N) did, perhaps more than them. Her pale blue eyes, nearly the same shade of gray as Cregan's, flickered between the two lovers. "His room will be beside (Y/N)'s. I do hope you'll behave yourselves."

Their smirks only made her roll her eyes and heave a sigh, her hands smoothing out the bottom of her dress as she sat beside them at the table. (Y/N) dug into his breakfast with eagerness, the subtle ache in his stomach disappearing with each gulp of food and juice until his plate was clean. He dapped at his lips with his handkerchief before brushing the crumbs from Rickon's chin, his eyes softening and a gentle smile spreading across his face. Cregan swooped in to kiss the top of his head, an act those around them hardly batted an eye at.

"My Lord, My Lady, Ser" Maester Orwen called out when he entered the room, dipping his head in respect and greeting. He shuffled closer to them, his hand brushing over Rickon's head affectionately. "There have been reports of a dragon not far from here, My Lord. It appears our guest will soon be arriving."

"Thank you, Maester Orwen." Cregan sighed and stood from the table, handing Rickon off to his sister with a kiss to the boy's temple before he motioned with a nod for (Y/N) to come along to greet their new royal guest. (Y/N) grimly realized he never bothered asking for how long the prince would be staying with them and gave a heavy sigh.

Maester Orwen followed the two men out into the chilly morning air, the snow crunching beneath their boots and their heads angled toward the gates. (Y/N) knew very little of Prince Jacaerys apart from the rumors circulating his parentage and the fact he was to be his mother's heir as the eldest son, despite the possibility of being a bastard.

An unfamiliar shriek echoed through the air above them and he tilted his head upward to watch the shadow of a dragon pass overhead in awe. It dipped downward toward the ground beyond the walls around Winterfell, the alarmed shouts of villagers quieting with reassuring calls from the guards around.

The gates soon parted, a lonesome figure stepping through and making his way toward them. (Y/N) had an image in his head of what the Prince would look like; silver-haired, purple eyes, boyish features, and a snobby attitude known to royals and most nobles. That image promptly shattered when Prince Jacaerys stopped before them. His hair, (Y/N) noted, was a chestnut brown color as were his eyes, two notable Targaryen and Velaryon traits he lacked. He was lanky and still appeared boyish due to his age but his features were hardened and eyes determined. No amount of determination, however, would cover up the trembling of his body. His clothes lacked a layer or two to keep him fully warm from the cold.

"Prince Jacaerys Velaryon," Maester Orwen greeted and bowed, offering him a friendly and welcoming smile despite the glances and disinterest of those around him. A small smile appeared on Prince Jacaerys face, giving a slight dip of his head in greeting before looking back at Cregan and then at (Y/N). He paled a little at the sight of them, despite his reddened face from the cold insistently nipping at it. "May I introduce the Wolf of the North, Lord Cregan Stark of Winterfell, and our trusted master-at-arms, Ser (Y/N) Mormont of Bear Island. I am Maester Orwen, here for whatever you may require."

"Welcome to Winterfell, Prince Jacaerys," Cregan spoke, voice devoid of most emotions and face largely stoic. (Y/N)'s lips curled at the way Prince Jacaerys adams apple bobbed nervously. His lover was an imposing man, he knew that well. Naturally tall and burly with a piercing stare that sent shivers down even the most hardened of knights. What had most men cowering only made (Y/N) swoon.

"T-Thank you, Lord Cregan." Prince Jacaerys cleared his throat. "It is a pleasure to meet the both of you. I am here, as you must know, on my mother's behalf-"

"Speaking of politics already?" (Y/N)'s head lolled to the side and Prince Jacaerys eyes flickered back to him, his cracked lips parting and closing. Cregan's features morphed, his lips tugging into a grin and eyes crinkling with amusement as he turned to eye (Y/N). "Straight to the point type of lad, aren't you?"

"What Ser (Y/N) means to ask-" Maester Orwen sent him a swift scolding glare. "-is if you require anything, My Prince. We could have a meal or hot bath readied for you, if you'd like to rest after a long... flight."

Prince Jacaerys lips pressed together, uncertainty written on his face but he looked away when (Y/N) arched a brow at him. "A hot bath sounds lovely, thank you. I, uhm-" He swiped his tongue over his lips and shuffled his feet, his composure rapidly disappearing the moment Maester Orwen stepped away to instruct some servants. "As I was saying, I am here as my mother's envoy to garner support for her cause and claim. Many years ago-"

"My father, Lord Rickon Stark bent the knee and accepted Rhaenyra Targaryen as the heir to the Iron Throne." Cregan finished for him and spared a glance over his shoulder before he turned to (Y/N), his eyes shimmering with amusement. His hand came to rest along (Y/N)'s midback and (Y/N)'s eyes narrowed. "My love," (Y/N) swore he heard the prince choke quietly on his spit. "Since Prince Jacaerys will be residing in the room next to yours, you should show him the way."

"There are servants for that, Cregan." (Y/N) squinted at him, the mischief on his face clear as day. "I have squires and wards to train, not to mention-"

"All that can wait for the Prince, can it not?" Bastard.

A brief cheeky grin graced Cregan's handsome features and he leaned in to kiss the area between (Y/N)'s eyebrows, giving his back a pat and nodding to the startled prince before he turned and marched further across the yard to tend to his own duties. (Y/N) watched him go with pursed lips, making a note to himself to get back at him for it later.

"I-"

"Come." (Y/N) ordered sharply, momentarily forgetting the young man before him was royalty and not another clumsy boy he had to shape up. Prince Jacaerys hardly seemed to notice, nearly slipping on the icy stone as his legs quickly moved to follow him into the castle.

(Y/N) led him through the hallways until they returned to the Great Hall, coming to a stop beside Sara and Rickon once more. "Your brother's the worst." He muttered quietly in her ear, earning a soft snort before he turned to the prince. "Prince Jacaerys, this is Sara Snow, Cregan's Stark half-sister. This little lad is Rickon Stark, Cregan's son."

"Ah," Prince Jacaerys dipped his head in greeting and Sara curtsied as best she could with her nephew in her arms. A wide smile spread across his lips as he took in Rickon, lifting his finger toward the boy and chuckling softly when Rickon wrapped his little fingers around it. "Pleasure to meet you both," Rickon answered in an incoherent babble.

"I suppose I should show you around since Cregan is..." (Y/N) almost sighed. "Busy."

With Prince Jacaerys proving to be rather obedient and quiet, (Y/N) had little trouble leading him around the castle and showing him the different rooms, halls, and towers connected to it. The prince only piped up to ask questions, mostly regarding the history of Winterfell or about a member of the Stark family until they reached the hall leading to the bedchambers and pushed the door open to Prince Jacaerys temporary room.

"The bath has already been drawn, Prince, and the belongings you sent ahead have been put away. If you require something and cannot locate anyone else, my bedchambers are to your left and Cregan's bedchambers are across." (Y/N) told him, eyeing the tempting steaming bath before turning to look at the prince. He studied his surroundings curiously. "Is there anything you need as of right now? I have fools to train."

"Are-" Prince Jacaerys cleared his throat once more. "Forgive me if I am overstepping but... are you and Lord Cregan..." He trailed off, the light red color returning to his skin and eyes jumping away from him.

"The Old Gods care not if you lie with someone of the same sex or love them, Prince. I'm sure as a child of the Seven you've been taught differently, but we followers of the Old Gods do not hold the same values." (Y/N) explained simply, watching the prince slowly nod. "Cregan and I are lovers, and if that bothers you, I suggest you deal with it for the duration of your stay."

"It- It doesn't bother me," Prince Jacaerys assured quickly.

"Good." (Y/N)'s lips dragged into a small smirk. "Welcome to Winterfell, then."

541 notes · View notes

prettyfilmz · 1 month ago

Text

QUALITY TIME • ROMAN REIGNS

author’s note: we're here with the third installment of the love language series with none other than our OTC roman reigns!! this piece definitely takes a more sensual turn than my previous two but it fits tbh I think y'all will love it. we have two more parts left of this series, up next is something special!!😝

plot: after a long awaited return from being on the road, you and roman spend some much needed quality time together after putting the kids to bed.

warnings: 18+ (MDNI), porn w/smidge of plot, reader is black, soft dom! roman reigns x sub! fem reader, daddy kink, dirty talk, praise, oral (both receiving), riding, slight hair pulling, creampie, small aftercare at the end.

word count: 1.2k words

the soft glow of the bedroom lamp cast a soothing warmth in the master bedroom, where you lay, your dark eyes gleaming with anticipation. you were anxiously awaiting for some alone time with your husband, whose 3 month absence had left a void in your large home. now, with your twin daughters tucked in, you finally had him to yourself after a day full of family activities. roman had read them eight bedtime stories, each at their pleading request, before slipping away and entering your shared room, his powerful presence claiming the room like he was still in character.

with a tired yet irresistible smile, roman closed the door behind him, his gaze lingering on you as he joined you in bed. “finally, I get my time with you,” he murmured, his deep, velvet voice laced with tenderness. “I’ve missed you.”

you could feel your pulse quicken as he pulled you into his arms, encasing you in his body warmth and the scent of santal and cardamom from his cologne.“I’ve missed you too, ro,” you whispered sincerely. “It’s been too quiet without you, aside from the girls.”

as roman leaned in, his lips met yours in a hungry kiss which sent shivers down your spine. your bodies gravitated toward each other like magnets, the dry spell from his absence finally coming to an end. his large hands gently cradled your face as he lowered you onto the pillows, his weight held you still as he hovered over you, kissing a path down your sensitive neck, savoring every inch of your soft sepia skin.

“you’re so damn beautiful, mama,” he whispered huskily, his lips brushing against your collarbone, inhaling the vanilla perfume you wore just for him. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you while I was gone... I would've came home sooner just to do this.”

a soft moan escaped your glossed lips, fingers threading through his long hair as you surrendered to his touch. “well…you’re here now,” you breathed, your voice shaky. “It’s just you and me, baby. let’s make up for lost time, hm?”

roman’s dark eyes glinted with lust as he ventured lower, his kisses trailing down to your generous curves. with delicate care, he pulled down the straps of your silk nightgown, exposing your breasts. he didn’t waste any time, his mouth closing around your taut brown nipple, his tongue swirling with small flicks.

“oh, fuck,” you gasped, arching into his touch as pleasure coursed through you. his hands molded to your breasts, teasing them while his mouth gave attention on your hardened peaks, pulling moans from deep within you.

“mhm, get comfortable, baby,” he purred as he descended further, his hands guiding your deliciously thick thighs apart. “I ain’t close to being done with you.”

your breath hitched as his warm breath ghosted over your glistening core. he didn’t tease for long like he usually did, his tongue skillfully flicking over your swollen clit, swirling and tasting you as if he were starved. his fingers joined the rhythm, sliding inside your tightness, drawing out sweet, breathy moans as he played your body like a fine instrument.

“right there,” you cried out, your fingers gripping his long hair as waves of pleasure crashed over you. “I’m gonna… cum.”

he chuckled darkly, the vibrations sending you even closer to the edge. “cum for me, baby. make a mess on daddy’s face.”

that was all you needed to hear. your body trembled violently as your orgasm ripped through you, your thighs clenching around his head, your cries echoing in the room. roman didn’t stop until you were quivering, your body spent, his tongue lapping up every drop of your sweet release.

when he finally pulled away, he climbed up your body, his lips brushing against yours, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. “almost forgot how sweet you taste,” he whispered, humming with satisfaction.

you smiled devilishly, fingers tracing the intricate tribal ink on his chest. “and I almost forgot how good you taste.” you purred, sinking down his lower body.

your fingers slid down his abs, tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants to reveal his thick, eight inch piece of flesh that ached for you. without hesitation, you took him in your hand, stroking him slowly. his breath hitched, and he groaned, tangling his hands in your curls as your lips enveloped around the brown tip of his cock, savoring the taste of his precum as you drew him into the warmth of your mouth.

“shit, baby,” roman moaned, his grip tightening around your thick coils as you worked him down your throat. “that’s my good girl…suck it just like that.”

you peered up at him through your thick lashes, your brown eyes full of mischief and as you took him deeper in your throat, gagging around him as your hand began stroking in time with your mouth. his body tensed, the pleasure building in every thrust of his hips as you took him closer to the edge.

just when you thought you had him where you wanted him, roman tugged you off him, his eyes glazed with lust. “there’s only one place I wanna cum pretty girl,” he growled, pulling you onto his lap, your body straddling on top of his.

with one smooth motion, he lined up his cock—heavily coated with your saliva—to your throbbing entrance and thrusts into you, filling and stretching you completely, a gasp escaping both your lips at the perfect fit. roman’s hands gripped your ass, guiding you as you bounced on him, your bodies moving in sync. his lips found your neck again, whispering against your heated skin, “you riding me so good, baby. she’s just gripping on daddy huh? take that dick honey, it’s all yours.”

you mewled in response, your pussy tightening around him as he caressed all the right spots, your nails digging into his broad shoulders. “ugnh fuck…need….more,” you pleaded breathlessly.

roman obliged and began to thrust up into you, his pace relentless, his hips snapping against yours with powerful, deliberate thrusts. his body worshipped yours like the moon casting it’s light over the ocean, rising and falling in sync with your movements. you felt yourself spiraling closer to your orgasm again, your breath catching as he brought you right to the brink.

“please,” you cried out, your voice barely a whisper as your climax approaching. “please don’t stop I’m gonna cum.”

roman’s grip tightened as he thrust deeper, on the brink of his own release. “cum with me, mama,” he encouraged, voice shaky with need. “be my good girl and make a mess with daddy”

your body shattered into pleasure, your walls clenching around him as your orgasm gushed on both of your thighs, your high pitched moans echoing in the room. roman soon followed, spilling his thick warm into you with a deep groan, his body slightly trembling as he buried himself inside you one final time.

breathing heavily, you collapsed into his arms, your bodies still intertwined as the aftershocks of your rendezvous lingered. roman’s lips brushed your forehead, his voice now soft and full of affection. “I love you, beautiful. you are my everything, y’know.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back, stroking his beard with your fingers as you both drifted into a peaceful, satisfied sleep.

taglist: @bebesobrielo @zillasvilla @harmshake @amandairene88 @blacst4r @skyesthebomb @cyberdejos2 @hunnidmilly 💗

if you’d like to be a part of my taglist, sign up here to be the first to see my newest drops! 🫧

#roman reigns x reader #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fic #roman reigns fanfiction #the bloodline x reader #wwe imagines #wwe smut #wwe fanfiction

294 notes · View notes

damiansgoodgirll · 11 days ago

Note

OK I found it! (No rush what’s so ever BUT!)

(During Roman’s tribal chief era.)

!Female Reader always had a crush on Roman, but was always too scared to ask him out.

One night during a match Kevin Owens costs her the match, (kinda like how Dom cost Raquel that one time) (you can pick between who ever is on the smackdown roster to have reader up against but it’s also not really required if you don’t want to.)

And basically the bloodline, mainly Roman goes to readers rescue, cause beef with Kevin.

(I know it’s not really…LIKE Roman to do something like that because he’s the tribal chief, but I feel like it would be a nice concept idea.)

Idk just fluff and adorable and what ever cause Roman… LMAO.

sorry it took me so long writing this but i’ve never written for roman and i had no idea on how to start 😭 i hope you like it + the timeline doesn’t really exist here lol

roman reigns x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated

��️nothing major, hurt/comfort, angry roman, some fluff too, kevin owens is mean here sorry

my weakness

everyone loved roman. yes, he played the big mean guy part and he was definitely good at it but deep down you knew that he cared. he cared for his family, his cousins, the fans, he even cared about his opponents while in the ring. deep down you knew he had a big heart and he was a kind person who pretended to be the bad one.

and maybe it was because of his big mean yet kind personality you caught feelings for him.

it’s not that you were big friends - you had a closer relationship with the usos and your shy personality made it harder for you to get to know him better.

but there were times when you and roman spent some time alone. at the gym, training before a big match or backstage, his presence was nice and even if you didn’t speak much, you enjoyed being around him even if the only present sound was the silence.

unbeknownst to you, roman always admired you. he adored your quite presence. when everyone was noisy around him, he found comfort in your silence. your presence was enough for him.

and his admiration for you didn’t go unnoticed backstage but everyone kept quiet, too scared the tribal chief would get mad if someone said something and they know better to not upset him.

all the locker room knew about that. the saw how roman was nice in your presence but mean with everyone else and even if it made you laugh, you never thought more about that.

even if you had no real beef with anymore backstage, somehow kevin picked you as a main target just to made roman even angrier.

it was going all good on friday night smackdown and you had a match against tiffany - if you won over her, you would get a title shot against nia and after being in the industry for over five years with little to no titles opportunities, you were ready to take it all.

it was your moment to shine, to prove everyone that you deserved to be the women’s champion.

what you didn’t see coming was kevin owen running towards the ring the moment you almost pinned tiffany. you almost had it. but you got distracted by him running and tiffany saw that as an opportunity to stand up and hit you in the back.

you were kinda surprised to see kevin there, why was he even there? he barely talked with you backstage and you pretty sure he wasn’t there to help tiffany as he had no business with her either.

feeling pain in your back, you tried to take back control inside the ring but when kevin got closer to the metal stairs, you and the blonde woman both turned your head towards him.

“what are you doing?” you almost screamed, definitely irritated that he was there to ruin your moment “get down kevin…”

but he stood there, watching the way you and tiffany kept fighting. for the second time that night you had the chance to pin tiffy down but you were too close to the cords and nonchalantly kevin put tiffany’s leg over them.

“what the heck! kevin!” you screamed, even angrier now. you were pretty sure you did him no harm so why was he ruining your moment like that?

at this point you were tired and in pain. kevin was trying to sabotage you and you didn’t know if you had the strength to pin tiffany down for a third time.

meanwhile backstage roman was getting ready for his interview later that night and he had no idea what was happening in the ring. he knew you had a match and he was dying to see it but jimmy forced him to repeat his lines for the interview and he was missing all of your match, until jey came to the tribal chief private locker room and asked him if he knew why was kevin ruining your moment.

roman scrunched his nose, trying to elaborate what his cousin just told him “what did you say?” his tone hard.

“kevin is costing y/n’s title opportunity man, i didn’t even know those two had beef” jey uso repeated.

his words making roman’s blood boil “they don’t” he simply said before he left his changing room.

you fought with every single bone in your body. your head was spinning, your back was killing you and you were tired but you wanted that title opportunity so you kept fighting and for the third time that night you had the chance to pin tiffany down, only for kevin to grab you by the leg and drag your body away from the blonde one.

you couldn’t understand. you really couldn’t.

was it in the script and no one told you?

was your career so pathetic that superiors wanted you out of any title opportunity and instead of telling you, they sent kevin?

your mind was spinning so fast and even faster when your teary eyes met kevin’s eyes. somehow you knew he felt guilty about what he was doing to you and yet he kept going on, dragging your body out of the ring.

you had no strength left so you laid there, hearing the bell ringing, letting tiffany win, and you lose, again.

the crowd erupted in boos, especially since everyone was waiting for your match and cheering for you.

you still laid there, trying to catch your breath again when you suddenly heard the crowd going apeshit.

a very mad roman reigns was running towards kevin owens and punched him right in the face. you quickly stood up, surprised he was even there.

you stood by the ring, a hand behind your back as you tried to catch your breath once again. jimmy and jey coming to your rescue as you all watched roman dragging kevin inside the ring “your beef is with me, now with her…you’re gonna pay for this” he whispered, almost as a promise before leaving the ring.

the crowd was cheering, thinking that it was all part of a script and some even thought that you were going to join the bloodline but you honestly had no idea what was happening.

you saw roman waking towards you, his eves never leaving your body “you okay?” he asked but you were too confused that didn’t even answer “let’s get you backstage…” and for the first time you saw the twins walking in front of him as. roman’s hand gently moved to your back as he helped you walking away from the scene.

medical staff checked you out and luckily you had nothing broken. you were just in a big uncomfortable pain.

roman brought you to his changing room, telling jey and jimmy to go somewhere else as he wanted to speak with you - alone.

“are you okay y/n?” he asked once you sat down on his couch.

“yeah, i think so…” your voice trembled. you definitely weren’t okay. you didn’t even know what happened in the last thirty minutes. your brain couldn’t comprehend it.

“you’re not okay…come here” he gently sat next to you and engulfed you in his big arms. you didn’t even realise you started crying. soft whimpers left your body as roman stroked his hand over your back “kevin is gonna pay for what he did” he said with stern voice.

you looked up at him, quickly wiping your tears away “i don’t think i’ve ever been mean or rude to him, why would he cost me the only title opportunity i’ve been given in five years?” you said mostly to yourself.

“because of me…” roman didn’t want to confess. he didn’t want to ruin the little friendship you two had.

your look quite confused “you?”

“yeah me…” he took a deep breath “because the men in the locker room know…”

“they know what?” you couldn’t understand what he was trying to say.

“that you’re my weakness…” he tried to avoid your look as you watched him with big eyes “you’re my weakness, i never felt like this and they know it…they know i have feelings for you but no one ever said anything…except for kevin, who thought that ruining your moment was okay…he did it because of me, he probably feels like shit knowing that he fucked you up but he got my reaction, he pissed me off and that was his goal” he exhaled once he was finished.

you stayed there, trying to assemble what roman just told you. he liked you, kevin used you to piss roman off and roman defended you, because, again, he had feelings for you.

“you have feelings for me?” you whispered, fearing that if you said it out loud it would have been fake.

“yes…”

“you, the roman reigns, the tribal chief, you have feelings for me?” you whispered again, making roman chuckle this time “am i dreaming? that’s the only possible explanation, i am dreaming…”

his strong voice chuckled again “i promise you that you’re more than awake…”

“why didn’t you say anything about it? we could have avoided a lot of silence conversations…” you asked.

“because i didn’t know, i still don’t know what the outcome of my confession is…i didn’t want to lose you and in all honesty i loved being in your silent comforting presence” he smiled, making you smile back.

you looked at him, trying to find any sign that he was lying but when you find none, you moved closer to rest your lips upon his bigger ones. it was a soft kiss, the both of you testing the waters.

“this would have been the outcome if you told me earlier…” you whispered against his lips, making him laugh.

the title opportunity long forgotten when roman gently moved you over his lap and deepened the kiss.

“i can’t believe you like me…” you whispered, too stunned to believe what just happened.

“i’ve been liking you since you joined the roster…i should have said something earlier…” he said softly while his hand softly stroked your cheek “but i’m glad i did it now…” he kissed you back feeling you smile against his lips.

after a couple of minutes of softly making out, you both got distracted by the twins knocking on roman’s door.

“not now” he said, a stern voice while you tried not to laugh.

“we just wanted to remind you of the interview…” jimmy voice said and you felt romantic scoffing, clearly annoyed to be doing that interview.

“i’ll be out in five” he screamed back and began to kiss you again when he felt the twins walking away from his locker room.

“as much as i love this, you have work to do…” you reminded him, getting an annoyed look by him.

moving back to sitting on the couch, you let roman getting ready as you admired him. he smirked feeling your look on him, especially when you tried to look away.

“i promise you, you’ll get your title opportunity back and no one will interfere this time, you have the bloodline protection, that’s a promise” he said, promising you.

of course you believed him - you knew how important he was in the game and he knew that if he asked hunter for a little favour, he wouldn’t say no.

“once i’m done with my interview, i’ll come back here and then we’ll finish what we started, back at my hotel” he smirked again before leaving the room.

you watched him leave, not being able to answer back. your mouth agape at the idea of spending even more time with roman - maybe, after all, it wasn’t a bad night.

203 notes · View notes

trippinsorrows · 3 months ago

Text

looking through your eyes + ten

authors note: i think ya'll will be pleased with majority of this chapter. as far as the ending scene, let me know what ya'll think roman should do. i have it already planned, but i'm always so curious reading other perspectives. btw, they've been married almost four months, for context.

also, to those who want to know about the subplot of solana's bitch ass daddy plotting to kill roman....it's still a subplot. stay tuned.

passages from 'the courage to heal' do not belong to me.

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

cw/tw: violence against women, references to csa, character briefly discussing csa, fluff, angst, language, and suggestive themes

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

masterlist

words: 10k (no comment)

Learning to be intimate is rewarding, but it is not always comfortable. As one woman said, “I kept myself safe, but I also kept myself alone.” Becoming intimate means peeling back the layers of protection to let someone in. It means going to the place where you’re comfortable and then taking one step more. One step, not twenty.

Solana must read the passage at least half a dozen times, sitting with the words, meditating with them and doing her best to cope with the discomfort she’s experienced at various points while working her way through the book that’s brought an equal amount of questions as it has answers.

She knew right away going into this section, Healthy Intimacy, that it would most likely be the hardest chapter for her. But not even for the reasons that she initially thought, reasons that would have been the case before a certain Roman Reigns entered her life.

Every day that passes with him seems to bring about a new level of comfort, a new slice of happiness, a new type of contentment.

She enjoys talking with him and being around him. She looks forward to his meeting her at the end of work and struggles with endless worry when he doesn’t make it back home until the wee hours of the night.

His touch, whether that’s his hand on her back or both hands on her waist as he holds her against him, no longer triggers an automatic tense, uncomfortable feeling. Somewhere along the way, the need to identify his touch as ‘safe’ waned and was replaced with an automatic knowing. Like she knows that it’s okay for him to touch her, because she’s safe. Because she’s safe with him.

That, along with her continued and also growing attraction, has caused her to think more and more what it could be like to be with someone in that way. The thoughts have been fleeting, far and few over the years, typically followed up with abject horror. But lately….lately she’s been less and less scared and more and more hopeful.

Optimistic that maybe….just maybe, she could one day know what that’s like. To have that experience in a healthy and non-traumatic way with a safe person. With someone who truly desires her in said healthy way.

Someone….someone like Roman.

It’s scary and terrifying and exciting and nerve racking and moving and every other emotion to exist, but on top of all that, for the first time in her life, it’s a possibility for Solana.

And she wants to take that chance, even if doesn’t work out, even if it’s not what she thought it would be. To be able to say she at least tried, to say that she overcame her fears…it would be monumental.

It would feel like the breaking of mental and emotional chains.

And it starts today.

Closing up the book, Solana untangles her legs and marks her spot in her book. She gives Dulce a light pat on the head and walks into the bathroom. Opening up the drawer, her eyes land on the pair of scissors. Nothing fancy. Just a pair of regular scissors.

Solana takes a deep breath and grabs them.

Using one hand to let down her hair from the messy, half-effort bun, she gives her head a good shake. Once, twice, and then a third time. For a brief second, she hesitates, her father’s constant belittling returning to the surface.

“You don’t need short hair. You’ll look even fatter with it.”

Solana shuts her eyes as she thinks of all the times Roman has called her beautiful, has made her feel beautiful. The endless support from Bayley and Naomi. The borderline inappropriate comments form the twins almost every time she sees them.

It all brings an emotional smile to her face as she takes another deep breath.

One step, not twenty.

And she cuts.

________

Samantha can count on one hand in all of the years that she’s known Roman Reigns the times that he’s surprised her with a visit.

Zero.

He’s always always given her a heads up for his arrival or plans to visit, solely for the mere fact that Roman is a man who doesn’t like to wait. When he wants pussy, he wants it then and now. And she’s never been one to deny the Head of the Table anything he’s ever asked for.

So when she finds him sitting at her desk, feet propped up with an unreadable expression, it takes her off guard.

Only for a minute.

“I knew it was only a matter of time.” Samantha is quick to kick the door shut behind her, locking it right as she tosses her purse on the nearby chair. “You can’t go too long without me.” This fact alone is enough to make her cum right then and there. The fact that even with his roster of women he rotates through, she remains number one.

Roman knows where it’s at.

And him coming to her, at her job of all places, just proves it.

Eye dropping to his crotch, she licks her lips at the thought of that thick, beautiful dick in her mouth. Fuck, she’s salivating at just the thought. “You want me on my knees, daddy?”

Samantha starts to kick her shoes off when he finally breaks the silence.

“I want to know what you said to my wife.”

Samantha’s smile drops in under a millisecond. Instantly, she’s scowling. “What?”

Roman doesn’t hesitate to repeat himself, every word perfectly enunciated with his heavy, baritone voice. “What did you say to my wife, Samantha?”

This….this isn’t how she was expecting this to play out, and it shows in the sudden stuttering, “I—I don’t—”

“She came back from that bathroom upset, and I don’t like seeing her upset, so I’m only gonna ask you one more time—” Samantha nearly jumps back into the door when he suddenly bangs his fist on her wooden desk and growls, “what did you say to her!”

Stammering, she answers with a combination of fear and desperation, “I just—I told her the truth.”

It seems to be the wrong answer, as Roman looks 5x angrier. “And what the fuck is that?”

Samantha gathers herself a little better, voice more even as she answers with misplaced confidence. “That she could never please you. Not how I can.” And with foolish bravery, Samantha steps toward him. “That you’ll always come back to me.”

“You fucking bitch.”

That makes her still with her movements. He’s called her all kinds of names when they’ve fucked, and she’s loved it, loves being fucked hard and rough, his preference. But there’s something about this that she doesn’t love.

It’s because he sounds legitimately upset with her.

And that, in turn, upsets her, because he cannot seriously be upset that she said some shit to that little girl.

“Why does it matter? It’s not like she means anything to you.” Samantha has to actually laugh. In no universe can she see someone as strong and powerful as Roman caring about a girl like that. But, it’s when he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t voice some type of agreement that her confidence dwindles a bit. “R–right?” Still, nothing. And it’s with that nothing she realizes with all of the anger and shock in the world why he’s so upset.

“Oh my god. Are you serious right now? Her? You really have feelings for her?” Even saying it aloud sounds ludicrous. “What the fuck, Roman? What the hell is so great about her?”

There is absolutely nothing that girl brings to the table for her to have someone like Roman Reigns interested in her. It doesn’t make any goddamn sense. What the hell is attractive about a scarred, sliced up, fat bitch?

He finally speaks, warning her in an almost menacing tone. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

“That girl is weak, Roman. You can’t be the head of the Bloodline and have someone like her at your side. She doesn’t deserve it.” By now, Samantha has moved over to him, her hands planted on his chest, his eyes closed. “You need….someone strong at your side. Look at what you’ve done just by yourself. Imagine…imagine having a queen to rule with you.” She licks her lips, going in for the kill. “I can be that for you. I can give you an heir. Look at how long it’s been and still nothing, no baby. She’s broken, Roman. That bitch—”

Samantha is silenced by him jumping up from his chair as he shoves her against the wall, hand on her neck. It’s not the first time they’ve been in a similar position. She loves to be choked during sex, and he’s adept at doing just enough to get her off without her passing out.

But this time, there’s no pressure, no sexual aspect, no foreplay.

This….this is different.

Because this is the first time she’s ever actually been afraid of him.

“If you ever in your fucking life speak on her again, I’ll kill you.” Samantha’s eyes are wide, hand grasping at his. He’s still not actually applying any sort of pressure, probably more so placement to evoke a level of fear. A reminder that he could end her life in a matter of seconds if that’s what he wanted. “If you ever speak to her again, I’ll kill you. Fucking look at her, and you’re a dead bitch.”

Samantha barely has time to process his threats when he says something in Samoan and steps back, releasing her as she dubs over and gasps loudly from the shock of it all.

Seconds later, she’s on the floor, laying on her side after fucking Nia has landed her big ass foot in Samantha’s head.

Nia is looking down with a wicked smile that promises a level of pain. “You talk too fucking much.” She can’t tell if it’s directed to herself or Roman, regardless, he looks unbothered, outside of staring down at her with disgust.

Samantha has no idea where the hell that bitch came from, but her unexpected blow nearly has her seeing stars. She’s writhing on the floor, on her side, cradling her head when Nia yanks her up by her extensions.

“Oh, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” Nia kicks her a second time, in her side, and Samantha is almost certain she heard the subsequent cracking of her rib from the impact. Tears fill her eyes. “I’ve wanted to kick your ass since we were kids.”

Helpless and feeling so confused as to how he could do this to her, Samantha sets her teary gaze onto him. She does her best to generate as many tears as she can. “Roman, please—”

“You’re fucking delusional if you really thought I would ever make you anything more than what you were to me.” Samantha sniffles, vision blurred and stomach aching from both the physical and emotional impact of his words. “Nothing.”

A sudden anger fills her, meshing with the growing physical pain. She did this. That fucking bitch has taken Roman from her, her Roman.

“You wanna know what she is to me?” He crouches down and reaches for a lock of her hair, answering just as icily as the disgusted look in his light brown eyes. “Everything you’re not.”

Samantha snarls almost, not even angry at his words as much as her mind is trying to navigate any and all ways to make that little troll pay for this. Pay for stealing her man.

But it’s as Roman is walking out, that he barks his last order to Nia. Not necessarily a necessity given the fact that he’s certain she’s dreamed exactly of how this very moment could and should go down. Granted, this is the one symbolic thing he needs to ensure takes place.

“Break her fucking jaw.”

________

Handling the Samantha situation is just one of many things to be checked off of Roman’s to-do list for today. He’s got meetings, contracts to review, spreadsheets to update, shipments to see sent off, and a million and one other things. Most of which he’s far from thrilled about but also know needs to be done, regardless if he’d rather say fuck it all just for today. For just a couple hours, even.

Delegate, perhaps. But these are things that can’t be delegated. He, as the Head of the Table, needs to put his signature on to make it official.

And he’s got his Wise Man fresh on his heel to remind him of such responsibilities.

“And if my Tribal Chief can find it in him, we should also review Nick Aldis' proposal.” Roman’s instantly scowling. He fucking hates Aldis. The bastard is smug and thinks himself more important than he is. That Roman won’t end his fucking life with one snap of his finger.

Roman is halfway listening to Paul when he walks past Alicia who stands up from her desk. “Sir—”

His dismissal is swift and brusque. “Leave me alone.”

“But—”

One murderous look, and Alicia is back in her seat. Roman briefly overhears Paul chastising his secretary for her insubordination when he opens his door and immediately realizes why Alicia was most likely trying to speak to him.

Roman sees Solo standing almost awkwardly in the corner out of his peripheral vision, but his attention is solely on the other unexpected guest.

Focused on the way her almost flesh toned dress hugs every curve that drives him fucking insane sometimes, the way she bites down on her bottom lip in that way he’s learned she does when she’s unsure of something. And he’s especially focused on her hair that’s chopped down to where it lightly grazes her shoulder.

“I tell you, good help is so hard to find—” Paul is silenced as he finally walks in and sees Solana. “Oh, it’s you.” Roman shoots him a look that would absolutely kill if it had any sort of physical impact. “I mean, Solana, what a surprise—”

Roman easily moves back to focusing on his wife who looks absolutely fucking stunning. He directs his command though to Solo and Paul. “You two, out.”

Solo doesn’t need to be told twice, but Paul seems to meander, even as Roman walks over to Solana. And it’s when Roman has his hands on Solana’s hips and the room is still not cleared, he repeats in a calm voice that’s solely because of Solana’s presence.

If not for her, he’d be screaming at his Wise Man.

“I said get out.”

Roman can practically hear the nervous gulp. “But, sir, we have work—”

Solana frowning pisses Roman off in a way he has to keep from showing. But it’s when she finally speaks and it’s an offer to leave that he really has to reel in his rage. “I can go—”

“No.” That’s the fucking last thing he wants. “Paul is leaving.”

It’s not a suggestion, not a request, not a preferred action.

It’s a fucking demand.

And his Wise Man must realize this, because he’s quickly following in line with Solo and finally leaving Roman alone with Solana who seems still unsure about her presence.

“You have work to do—”

“You really expect me to get anything done when you come in my office looking like this?” He motions to her outfit and sees the way her cheeks tinge reddish as she bites back a smile. “Not happening, sweetheart.”

“I thought it looked nice.” The bashful way she says as such, as if she’s unsure it was an accurate assessment blows his mind. She looks down at the dress as if it’s not the woman wearing said dress that has him pushing back unholy thoughts.

“It doesn’t look nice. You look nice, Solana.” Another one over of her curvy body, and he mutters, “more than nice.” He brings his hand to her hair, brushing his fingers against the ends. “You cut your hair.”

She nods, an almost look of determination in her soft expression. “It was time,” is all she says, and Roman doesn’t need to ask for clarification. This meant something to her. Cutting her hair has a deeper meaning than just wanting something new, and whatever the reason, he’s proud she found it in her to follow through.

He hates when she asks him, still unsure, “does it…does it look bad?”

He’s not sure he could ever use Solana and ‘bad’ in the same sentence. Ever. “You could never look bad.”

She smiles, clearly pleased by his compliment. Good. He likes seeing her smile.

“Come here.” Roman takes her hand and leads her over to his desk where he sits down in his chair and doesn’t think twice about guiding her onto his lap. Roman feels her tense for only a couple seconds before she relaxes against him.

“As pleasant a surprise it is to find your fine ass in my office, I know you came for a reason.”

Roman is extremely perceptive. Always has been. He’s noticed the increased comfort Solana has developed and continued to develop with him. The way her discomfort at being looked at too long or even touched in any sort of capacity has shifted into bashful smiles and an almost light in her eyes at being complimented. At someone finding her to be anything but every lie she’s ever been fed.

Her confidence is growing, slowly but surely. And he likes that shit.

So he’ll do whatever he needs to do to keep it growing.

“It’s nothing serious.” It doesn’t have to be. She could come to his office every day if that’s what she wanted. He’d have zero complaints. “I just…I was baking Sopaipillas, and I know you like them and I felt bad because I’m bringing Jimmy and Jey some—”

It’s not until that moment he sees the Tupperware container on his desk. Her thoughtfulness is so unfamiliar but very much appreciated. He chuckles as his fingers carefully tap against her hip. “Thank you, but you know if you keep feeding they asses, they gon’ keep coming over.”

She’s smiling almost, defending them to a certain extent. “They’re really not that bad.” And she’s not entirely wrong. His cousins can be entertaining at times, but beyond that, he likes seeing her comfort level with them increasing as well.

For her to be as comfortable around them as she’s become, especially with them being men, is extremely significant given her trauma.

He’s proud of her for that just as well.

Still,Roman shrugs and calmly points out. “I spend most of my day with them.” Her other hand lays on his chest as he admits, “I don’t want to come home and see them. I just want to see you.”

Solana gives an expected almost shocked expression followed up with a slight confession of her own. Her voice is soft, like she’s unsure about what she’s about to say but is going with it regardless. “That’s why I wait up for you to get home…because I want to see you too.”

He believes this to be true, but he also knows there’s something else to it. “You worry about me.”

She nods, nervously licking her lips. “I’m trying to work on it though.” She’s been working on a lot of things, a lot of difficult, most likely mentally taxing things. And as proud of her as he is, Roman also recognizes the importance of pacing oneself.

He gently grazes the back of his fingers over her cheek. “Just focus on you, alright?”

The corner of her lips lift into an almost playful grin as she asks innocently, “what if I can do both?” Roman studies her, sees and hears the playfulness. It’s unlike her, but he fucking loves it. She squeals and almost giggles against him as he brings her closer to his chest, her hand squeezing his shoulder as he remains mindful of the placement of his hand on her hip.

Growing comfort or not, he still wants to be respectful of her boundaries.

Still wants to maintain her trust.

“I got me. Always.” Her gaze is on him, softening by the second as he adds on almost quietly. “Just need you to be okay too.”

Okay is such a big word, so layered. She’s not sure she’ll ever be fully okay. Too much trauma. Never enough healing. But there may be some level of okayness she can achieve, and it does feel like that’s something that��s in progress. “I’m getting there.”

And a large part of her healing journey is largely due to the man underneath her, staring at her with almost a sense of fascination, like he’s so enraptured by her. Like he’s smitten with her. The person she once believed no one could ever want has a handsome, powerful man like Roman Reigns holding her, looking at her, wanting her.

A line from the book resurfaces to the front of her mind.

One step, not twenty.

With that as a motivating and supportive mantra, she slowly moves her hand from his shoulder to his face, his beard prickling against her skin.

“Solana…..” She’s not sure she’s ever heard him sound so pained. “Baby, you can’t touch me like this and expect me to not want to kiss you.”

The butterflies in her stomach grow exponentially. Baby. She’s not entirely certain, but she feels like he’s called her this before, that he’s referred to her as such on a different occasion. So, it’s not a mistake, not a one time thing. It’s yet another sign that there wasn’t a dishonest bone in his body when he said he wanted her.

That he wants her.

Her heart is beating a mile a minute as she pools together all of the courage in her body and again chips away another tiny section of her wall of protection. “So kiss me.”

It’s not until this moment that Solana sees Roman actually appear genuinely surprised at something. He asks, maybe as if he needs to make sure he heard correctly, but Solana would bet it’s less that and more him ensuring consent. “Are you sure?”

He’s been so good at that. Consent. And it’s meant the world to her. His patience with all of her baggage.

Nodding, she quickly remembers his preference for verbal acknowledgements. “Yes.”

Solana doesn’t really remember her kiss with Roman at their wedding. She doesn’t really remember much from the actual wedding at all, to be honest. It was….it was more traumatic than anything, which is why she does her best to keep it stored away with the other too difficult to sit on memories.

But this….this she is certain she will never forget.

There’s an almost hesitancy when his lips touch hers, a space he’s leaving open in the event that she changes her mind. She’s grateful for that, but it’s not necessary. Her ‘yes’ was as genuine as his apparent interest in her.

And when he picks this up, picks up the fact that she truly wants this, he deepens the kiss, his hand moving up to her lower back as he pulls her closer to him. Roman’s full lips are soft and warm, and the way he moves his mouth against hers is both reserved and hungry, a strange but well balanced thing only he can manage. Like only he can achieve. He kisses her with a passion that she feels is only a fraction of everything he feels toward and for her.

Solana’s hand slides to the back of his neck, her fingers brushing up and across the skin, teasing the strings of hair that refused to mold down. She’s not sure if this was the right move because he makes a sound against her mouth, an almost mixture of a moan and groan, and pulls away. The separation and her subsequent light panting makes her suddenly aware that they’d been kissing longer than she realized. That she’d gotten so plunged in the experience that time seemed a nonfactor.

Her eyes flutter close when Roman brings his lips back onto her, this time peppering kisses along her jawline. Her head tilts back, an unconscious thing that grants him full access to the nape of her neck, which he easily makes his way down to. It’s a different, pleasant sensation that has her nails scraping against him.

“Roman….”

“So fuckin’ beautiful….” He says something else, something she can’t understand because it’s said in Samoan, but it unintentionally triggers something for her. A new level of bravery, an ability to ask something that makes her insides light afire and heart rate exceed what’s probably safe and healthy. But, it’s a hill she wants to eventually be able to get up and over.

And he’s made her feel safe enough to be the one to do it with.

“Roman.” Her voice must give away her need to say something because he pulls away from her and is focused directly on her. She licks her slightly swollen lips. “I want….I want to try—”

“Whatchu mean he busy? Man, you trippin. Uce always got time for family.” Jimmy’s loud unexpected voice is enough of a disruption and mood killer that Solana quickly jumps off Roman’s lap and moves away just enough to adjust her hair and dress. “Soso!”

Solana brings herself to look at her husband’s cousin as he finally walks in the office after dismissing Alicia’s warning. The first thing she notices is the tupperware bowl in his hand and white substance on his fingers. “I hope you don’t mind. When I saw your driver, I figured you had these little sugar things in the back so I just grabbed em’ all.”

If not for the fact that Solana is still trying to settle herself, she’d point out how the other bowl was supposed to be for Jey. But that seems irrelevant at the moment.

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Jimmy seems completely unbothered by Roman’s threat as he plops down on the sofa, kicking his feet up on the glass coffee table and asks with all the obliviousness in the world. “So what ya’ll doing?”

When Roman shoots up from his desk and starts toward his cousin, Solana places herself in front of him, hands on his chest. His attention is immediately down, focused once again on her.

“It’s okay. I—I’ve got training with Bay and Naomi anyway.” Swallowing her nerves and pushing back thoughts of how….how nice it felt kissing him, she quietly offers a hopefully acceptable alternative. “We can talk tonight.”

This doesn’t seem like Roman’s preference but something he can live with. “Fine.”

She knows he’s obviously annoyed at being interrupted, and she is too, to a certain extent. But, Jimmy meant no harm, and she hopes Roman can at least recognize as much. Solana says bye to Jimmy and is near the door where she sees Solo waiting for her when an idea, more an urge, becomes too prominent to push away.

She turns back around and leans up, pulling Roman down by his shoulders and kisses his cheek. He gives her a look that tells her he’d be pulling her back for more if not for her cousin, and it makes her stomach somersault all over again.

But, she doesn’t give him the opportunity, just a small smile as she walks out for good this time.

And it’s after she’s gone, the Wise Man back in the room to help minimize the chances of his Tribal Chief killing one of his cousins that Jimmy uses the distraction to pull out his phone and send a text in the group chat.

Group Chat: Operation RoSo

Jimmy: Ya’ll! Code red! Code fucking red!

Jey:?????????

Bayley: Is Solana okay?!

Naomi: ^^^^^^

Jimmy: Man, I just got to Uce office, and good thing I walked in when I did. They acting all weird and shit. Soso just ran out of here but not after telling him they’ll ‘talk’ tonight!!!!

Jey: I’m too high for this shit right now.

Naomi: Babe, how exactly is that a code red???

Jimmy: They was obviously arguing before I got here! And ‘talking’ tonight??? That ain’t nothing but part two!

Bayley: Jimmy, that seems like a bit of a stretch.

Jey: A big ass stretch. Man, leave them two alone.

Jimmy: Naw. We gotta expedite this plan. I can see the writing on the wall. If we don’t move fast, they never gon fall in love. They might even be starting to hate each other now!

Bayley: Now you’re just being dramatic.

Jey: Agreed. How I get out this chat?

Jimmy: I don’t wanna hear it! I’m the master strategist so let me do my thing!

Jimmy: Babe. You and Bayley have SoSo all done up and nice this evening. Make her think ya’ll are going out or something.

Naomi: Why?

Jimmy: Damnit woman, because I said so!

Naomi: 🫤

Naomi: I’m trying to figure out who the fuck you think you talking to. Don’t get your ass beat.

Jey: I’m muting this shit. Ya’ll not gon get me killed. Roman don’t like people in his business.

Jimmy: Just have her ready, and I’ll text you the location and the time she needs to be there.

Jimmy: We gotta save RoSo from themselves!

________

Solana misses the blow from Naomi by only a fraction of a second, but before she has time to think about it, another one is coming, forcing Solana to quickly jump to the side.

“Nice,” Naomi compliments. “Try more offensive positions though. Try to hit me.”

Solana knew that was coming, knew that Naomi would be pushing her today, as she has the last couple times. It only makes sense. Solana recognizes that she’s improving, that she has improved a lot since she started. It seems only natural that Naomi would continue to push her to further the progression of her skills.

“Don’t be afraid, Solana! Naomi can take it,” Bayley encourages from the sidelines, drinking some of her Gatorade.

Solana does her best to not get too distracted, knowing that can be quite literally fatal if this was a real situation.

Naomi lunges at her again, and Solana manages to block it with her forearm but also lifts her foot, managing to kick Naomi away.

“Nice!” It’s such a weird thing to be applauded for. “But remember to retract your foot faster next time. I could have twisted it and grounded you.”

Solana commits that to memory just as Naomi steps back and Bayley walks back over. She then compliments, “I know I said it already, but the haircut looks amazing on you.” She quickly adds in a manner that’s more telling than asking. “Just have to even some areas off.”

Solana half smiles. She expected Bayley to need to go in with actual shears to shape up some areas given the fact that Solana’s impromptu haircut was literally just her taking some regular scissors and chopping at least five inches off.

But before Solana can say anything else, she sees why Bayley ended her break to get back into the training.

It’s evident by the knife in her outstretched hand.

“This is a Benchmade Bailout. It’s a folding knife. A little bigger than what we’d like you to carry on you, but a good place to start.”

Carrying….Solana hadn’t even allowed herself to think about that part. Of course they’d want her to start keeping a knife on her once teaching her how to use one.

Naomi then advises, “we’re not gonna do any fight training with it today, but we do want you to get used to the feel and weight of it.”

Solana can feel her heartbeat increasing. She can’t remember the last time, if ever, she’s held a knife of this nature. Her left hand is against her shorts, tapping against the spandex, a continued nervous habit.

Bayley sees this and offers assurance. “It’s okay. We just want to go over the basics.”

Solana does her best to focus not on the past, but the present. The here and now. Another recommendation from her book. She also strangely remembers the countless times Roman has asserted he won’t let anything happen to her.

“I’ve got you.”

The safe feeling she has when he’s around. He’s not physically present, but the recollection of his words anchor her.

Taking a deep breath, Solana takes the knife from Bayley, its coolness taking her by surprise. She never takes her eyes off the blade.

Meanwhile, Naomi goes into basic tips and information. “Right off the bat, if you ever need to use it to defend yourself, go for the major arteries.” She then begins pointing to the various body parts as she lists them off. “The neck, stomach, chest area namely. It’s your best bet at getting someone almost entirely immobilized.”

“And this might be graphic, but don’t be afraid to go for it twice. Sometimes people can still be standing with just one hit.” Solana is grateful for the fact that Bayley is trying to be careful with her words, vague to a certain extent but clear enough so she can understand.

“If you just wanna get them away and not potentially kill them, maybe go for the hand or foot, depending on how they’ve got you pinned.”

“But by the time we finish your training, no one will get the chance to pin you.” Naomi gives a comforting smile and squeeze of her shoulder. “Not to mention Roman would never let you be in that position in the first place.”

Solana doesn’t doubt that one bit.

Bayley suddenly clears her throat, almost awkwardly.

Solana frowns, looking lost by the otherwise random in interjection. “What?”

“We’re not supposed to tell you, but Roman is taking you out to dinner tonight.” Naomi’s answer is appreciated, but it doesn’t make sense.

“He what?” Solana is confused because she literally just saw Roman this morning and came straight from his office to the Warehouse to train without him mentioning a word of this. “He didn’t say anything to me.”

“It’s supposed to be a surprise,” Bayley adds, but there’s something almost unsure about her answer. “So, I’ll take you to my salon afterwards to touch up your hair now, and then we can also figure out glam while you’re there.”

“Yes.” Naomi claps and carefully removes the knife from Solana. The knife she completely forgot she was holding. Naomi comments on that. “See? You forgot about it for a minute, didn’t you?” Solana nods. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you there.”

The encouragement means the world to Solana as she offers a quiet but meaningful, “thank you.” They’ll never know how much their support means to her.

Ever.

Bayley comes and stands beside Solana, sliding her arm around her with that infamous sly smile.”You never have to thank us for being your friends, Solana.” Words have never hit so deeply, Solana having to hold back tears. Friends. “Now let’s figure out what the slay is gonna be for tonight.”

________

The minute Solana walks into the restaurant, she realizes that something is off.

And not even in a dangerous sort of way, more so, there’s something she’s not being told sort of way.

It’s a beautiful upscale restaurant that has decor that probably costs more than some people’s mortgage payment.

But it’s barren. Not a customer in sight.

Walking up the three steps that lead to a higher level, she looks around, confused as to the fact that a restaurant that probably requires reservations six months in advance is vacant.

Digging in her small purse, she pulls out her phone to text Roman. Bayley and Naomi encouraged her to continue to play dumb, but this isn’t right.

She needs to talk to him.

“Solana?”

Her head snaps up to see Roman who also just walked up the same steps she did minutes prior.

“Roman?”

He seems surprised to see her, an unexpected expression for someone who allegedly planned this dinner. “I—I don’t know what’s going on.” He walks over to her as she explains. “I was told—”

“Probably the same thing I was told,” he finishes for her and takes in her appearance, Solana’s hands smoothing over her dress. Looking just as captivated as he’d looked at her this morning in his office, Roman ghosts the back of his hand against her cheek. “Sei uno splendore….”

She hasn’t a clue what he’s said, but something tells her it’s a compliment of some sort. Still, Solana asks with that same bashful smile that seems to always fall on her face when she’s around him, “are you gonna tell me what you just said?”

Roman winks and answers, plain and simple, “naw.”

Smiling even harder, before she can say anything else, another voice enters the conversation.

“Soso, girl, what you doing here?”

Both Solana and Roman turn to a smiling Jimmy who's wearing a poorly feigned look of surprise.

“Jimmy?” Solana is genuinely confused while Roman looks like he’s genuinely considering murdering his cousin for the second time today. “What—what are you doing here?”

Roman is completely uninterested in the why and more so on the how he’s going to end the other man. “I’m going to fucking kill him, Solana. I don’t care anymore.”

Jimmy completely ignores Roman and answers her question with an answer that makes no sense. “Ahh, you know, I was in the neighborhood.”

He gives Solana a side hug as she answers his question as well, hoping to avoid witnessing a familial crime. “Bayley and Naomi told me—”

“You know what, it don’t even matter. You here. Big Dog here.” He gestures around them. “Looks like this nice ass restaurant has been rented out by some coincidence. Might as well enjoy a nice dinner.”

Roman closes his eyes, seemingly trying to count off. “I’m literally going to snap your fucking neck if you don’t get lost. Now.”

Solana moves over to Roman just enough for him to reach and gently tug her into him. He doesn’t need to be getting this upset. She naturally lays her head against his chest, fingers grasping the sides of his shirt.

Jimmy lifts his hands in a surrender manner. “Hey. I can tell when I’m not wanted.” Solana smiles at the look she can imagine on Roman’s face at that. “Ya’ll be safe now. Soso, I’ll be at the crib in the morning for breakfast.”

“Why the fuc—”

Solana reaches up and redirects his focus onto her. “It’s okay.” Solana looks over at the table that’s beautifully decorated with a stunning centerpiece. “It’s….it’s sweet.” Her diversion also, thankfully, a long enough distraction for Jimmy to depart, leaving the two of them alone.

Her preference.

Roman’s as well, clearly.

Solana then takes in the situation, a little relieved to finally know what’s going on. It’s obvious she was set up. Roman too. But regardless of the deception, it’s deeply appreciated. Her friends going to such lengths to set up something nice like this.

Roman, calming down a bit, doesn’t necessarily disagree with her, but instead asserts, “they’re interfering, and I don’t like that shit.”

Her smile dims a bit as she offers, “we can leave—”

“No.” He shoots it down immediately, hands on her hips. “Just hate that I finally get time alone with you, and it’s because of fucking Jimmy.” Her eyes shut when he kisses her forehead and murmurs, “been thinking’ bout you all day…”

And the smile is back as she takes his hand and leads him toward the table, Roman pulling her chair out for her.

Having the restaurant entirely rented out is a luxury she’s not used to but appreciates, especially with how catered the service is as well as the fact that they don’t have to wait long for the food. Conversation flows easy between them, more Roman asking questions about how she’s doing, if she needs anything.

He’s always so attentive, and she’s so grateful for that.

Grateful for him.

It’s the same type of attentiveness that causes her to comment after the waiter comes and takes their plates, clearing the table. “You seem stressed.”

And not just because of the date setup.

He shrugs, partially dismissing but not outright denying. “Just a long day.”

It seems to be a recurring theme with him. Solana has noticed for a while now how his early days always bleed into late evenings that sometimes spill over to the next day. It doesn’t seem sustainable to her. “You have a lot of those.”

“I’m the Tribal Chief.” He says it with pride, as he should, but there’s something else there. Something she can’t outright identify. “Comes with the territory.”

And Solana recognizes as such, but as large of a man Roman is—in many different ways—he’s still just a man. “Is it ever too much?” She crosses her arms across the table, leaning forward almost. There may be no other attendees present, but there are still workers, so she’s mindful of her volume. “I mean….”

“Do I ever get exhausted?” She nods. “Sure.” That wasn’t the answer she was expecting. Roman does such an excellent job always wearing that mask of calm, cool, and collected. Outside of his obvious temper, he’s always so well put together. It’s something she envies, to a certain extent. “But someone’s gotta do it, and as it’s my birthright, the responsibility falls on me.”

She sits on his words, understanding where he’s coming from but also wondering just how he manages such a weight. She knows he’d headed the Bloodline for some time now, since he was 18 years old. That’s a large burden to carry at such a young age and for him to do it so long and as well as he has, it’s impressive.

He certainly lives up to his reputation.

Solana nods and does her best to ease into what she’d really like to tell him, to have him know even if he never in life takes her up on it. “You always say that I can talk to you…”

Roman doesn’t hesitate to reaffirm it too. “You can.”

She knows this. He’s….he’s made it abundantly clear that he wants to speak with her, to know what’s on her mind. “That goes both ways.” Something speedily flashes in his eyes, briefly affecting his otherwise neutral expression. “You can talk to me too.”

For a second, she regrets saying anything, regrets second guessing his abilities to handle things. The last thing she wants is to insinuate he’s somehow incapable of taking care of business. But, if he’s insulted by her offer, he doesn’t show it, just says a simple, “thank you.” She offers a small nod when he seemingly changes the subject. “How’s training?”

There’s a bit of a sting at what feels like a slight form of rejection, but she understands better than anyone that opening up can be hard, so she respects his wishes.

“Good. I….I think I like it.” It’s the truth. While initially terrified of being put into such a foreign situation, Solana has found herself growing increasingly content with this new part of her weekly routine. Training has assisted, to a great extent, in her growing confidence and surety with herself. There’s something comforting about learning how to defend herself, how to keep herself safe. “Today was a little hard though. They’re teaching me how to fight with knives. It’s…..uncomfortable, but that’s how I know I need to do it.”

If there’s anything she’s learned in the past couple months, it’s that nothing about working to overcome trauma is easy. That doesn’t, however, make it any less important.

Or beneficial.

“Not if you absolutely don’t want to.” To be fair, Roman wasn’t even informed that this was something the girls were starting with Solana. He makes a mental note to remind them that while they handle her training, the specifics of what she’s taught needs to be run by him at all times. He probably would have shot down the knife training.

Solana was literally present and witnessed her mother be stabbed to death. Solana herself was also stabbed.

That seems almost cruel to make her learn how to wield the very weapon that took so much from her.

“Wes used to use knives to hurt me.” It comes out more quiet than she intended, a natural effect of sharing something so painful. She points to a small scar on her neck, the exact date and nature of how it happened, something she’ll never forget but has little desire to elaborate on.

“And I know….I know you won’t let him hurt me anymore, but….I don’t want him to have that power over me anymore either. He knows I’m scared of them, and he’s always taken advantage of that fact. I don’t….I don’t want him to have that anymore.”

“Then he won’t,” Roman agrees. He can understand her logic, and he respects the hell out of her wanting to take back that power. He supports the hell out of it too. “Not if you don’t let him.”

She gives a sad smile, shaking her head. “As strange as it is, I think….Wes and I are both victims.” Before Roman can press her for clarification, she explains, “my father always kept his contact limited with my mom. He said she would make him weak like she made me.” Just saying it takes Solana back to countless times and occasions where her father would talk down on her mother, talk down on Solana. It’s a weighty memory. “Having my mom…having her love for the time that I did made a big difference for me. Wes never got that, so I always wonder how things could have been different if he did.”

Solana has a big heart. Pure. A mind-boggling phenomena to Roman considering everything she’s been through. “It still doesn’t make what he’s done to you right.” Kind heart or not, it’s imperative she knows there’s never a good enough reason or excuse for anyone to do what he’s done to her.

She nods, “I know.” It’s still a work in progress, Solana learning to unlearn the victim blaming she’s placed on herself for so many years. But, that much, she’s come to accept.

She never deserved any of Wes or her father's abuse.

Roman can see the way memories might be coming back to the front of her mind and moves to redirect again. “You wanted to talk to me about something earlier.”

Oh.

For a second, she wants to lie. To make up something. To come up with a story that’s hopefully believable enough for him to not poke holes through. And then another line from her book resurfaces.

Calculated risks are different—you weigh your chances and step out onto the ice only when you’re relatively sure it’s solid.

Solana is certain she’s never met a more solid person than Roman.

Scooting back in her chair, she feels his watchful gaze around her as she moves around the table and is only inches away from him when he realizes what she's doing and beats her to it, gently pulling her onto his lap. He’s always so careful around her.

Solana moves her arms around his neck as he rests one hand on her hip.

She takes a deep breath. “I was...I was working out of my book this morning, and it was the chapter on…on intimacy and—” She has to pace herself, knowing that if she doesn’t, she won’t get through the conversation. And she has to do this. She almost feels like she needs to do this. “I think I always thought I couldn’t have that because of what happened to me, but…..but I think I can.”

And this has been such a powerful and moving revelation to walk into. For so long, Solana has lived in fear and trauma, haunted by the horrific memories of her sexual assault. It’s inaccurately painted her views of what should and could be something beautiful and special with the right person. She never thought that could be possible for her though, believed that her chance had been destroyed by two sick individuals.

But if the past few months have taught her anything, it’s that there are decent people in the world. Decent men in the world. Jimmy. Jey. Solo.

Roman

She’s still very much nervous, and even talking about it has her pushing back a level of anxiety, but the desire to overcome that trauma, to be able to experience that as a woman, to not be held down by the shackles of her past, is stronger than it’s ever been before.

“And I want to try.” She licks her lips, nervously adding on and explaining as best she can, “but, I can’t do it right away. I need….I need to build up to it, and I know—that has to be frustrating for you—”

“Solana.” His interruption is quiet but firm. “We’ll go as slow as you want.” His finger is moving in slow circles on her hip, an action that provides her a strange sense of comfort. “Whatever you need is what we’ll do.”

Solana releases a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding in. Him agreeing isn’t something she necessarily didn’t see coming, she just didn’t realize it’d come so easy.

She almost feels it’s too good to be true.

Suddenly unsure, Solana double checks. “You’re….you’re okay with that?”

He doesn’t miss a beat with his answer. “Only if you’re sure this is what you want.”

It’s a profound statement. There’s a lot of things she’s not sure of that she’s been making herself do, regardless.

But this……

This is something she wants.

Something she maybe even needs.

Solana is careful with her answer. “I’m gonna be 29 this year, and the only sexual experience I’ve had is being raped as a child.” There’s an equal combination of emotion and conviction as she affirms, “I don’t want that to be my story anymore.”

And it won’t.

Because she won’t let it.

Not anymore.

“Then we’ll do this.” She nods, still nervous but also comforted by his support. “You know I won’t make you do anything you’re not ready for, but I also need you to be good about communicating with me.” His eyes move up and down over her, resting slightly longer on her chest, which is understandable given the revealing nature of her dress. “And you also know how attracted I am to you, to all of you, so I need you to stay clear with me on what you are and aren’t comfortable with, okay?”

It’s fair and completely understandable. Roman is still a man. A man with needs, and he strikes her as being an otherwise handsy man, so him wanting and needing to know where her red zones are is important.

“I understand.” And she’ll make an active, concerted effort to be on top of that. To practice saying no and cutting things off when she needs to. “What—what about you?” He gives her a look. “Is there….is there anything you’re not comfortable with?”

Again, he takes her in, head to toe. His tongue leaves his mouth to slowly gloss over his bottom lip. “Baby, you can do whatever you want with me.”

Her smile is bashful as she looks away. Him being so….outspoken about his attraction and desire for her is still a new thing she’s trying to navigate, but it’s not unwanted. Nor does it feel bad to have a man like him want her so badly.

Not at all.

Deciding to continue to stay on the ledge she’s already started to trail, Solana brings her hand to his chest. “So….so if I asked you to kiss me again….”

He chuckles, Solana’s eyes shutting as he brings his mouth to her jawline, “whenever,” her nails claw against his chest as he moves his lips to her nose, “however,” finally he’s teasing the corner of her mouth. “Wherever you want.”

And it’s at the exact moment their lips connect again that a phone ringing once again steals away another groundbreaking moment.

Solana can feel the irritation in his muscular body and smiles against his lips.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” She doesn’t necessarily doubt it as he kisses her cheek before pulling his phone out and answering as she lays her head in his neck. He barks out an unkind, “what?”

It doesn’t deter her as he keeps his grip on her hip, Solana enjoying the feeling of being in his arms. She’s starting to realize being this close to him makes her feel safe. His presence alone gives her that feeling, but this is something different, something almost…deeper.

She doesn’t try to listen in on his phone call, but it’s made virtually impossible not to, given the fact that she’s literally on his lap. However, that’s ended when he switches to speaking in Samoan. Still, it’s not hard to pick up on the fact that he’s growing more annoyed with every second that passes.

He then gives a heavy sigh, switching to English, “I’ll be there in a bit.”

Her stomach drops, a frown appearing that she does her best to quickly push away. She had a feeling the call would end that way.

Before he can explain to her the obvious, she lifts her head and assures, “it’s okay. I should probably get back to Dulce anyway.”

“Damn dog is so needy.” Solana smiles at the scowl on his handsome face. For someone who doesn’t care for dogs, she’s noticed he seems to interact with her puppy more and more as the days pass. He brings his hand to her chin, ensuring she keeps her gaze on him. “Don’t wait up, alright?”

It’s an expected request, one he should already know she’ll do her best to, but most likely won’t, abide by.

“I make no promises...”

________

Having such a small dog means that he or she can be in the most random of places and blend in seamlessly because of said smallness. It’s why in looking for Dulce after getting out the shower, Solana damn near searches every corner and crevice of the first and second floors of the mansion. Outside of a room that’s been locked and closed off the past two weeks, Roman not really giving her a reason why nor has she pushed.

She’d never been in it anyway.

It is, however, out of the norm though for Dulce to not be nearby. She typically likes to stay close to Solana.

Or even Roman.

So for a moment, Solana starts to get concerned. But after searching her room, the kitchen, the dining room, and even the backyard a second time, Solana is finally able to locate Dulce in the least expected place.

Roman’s room.

She didn’t even realize Dulce’s bed was still in there, still in the original spot on the side of his bed.

The side she had slept on that one night.

“Dulce, you can’t stay in here.” Solana knows Roman isn’t a huge dog person, and Dulce being in his room is probably the last thing he’ll want to see when he gets back. But it’s in reaching over to pick up her puppy that something unexpected happens.

Dulce nips at her.

Solana gasps, momentarily taken off guard. That’s the first time Dulce has done that. “Dulce, no.” Again, Solana goes for the grab only for the puppy to plant her bottom and back legs into the bed. Now Solana is just straight up confused. “What is wrong with you?”

Thinking maybe she can lure the puppy with a toy, Solana turns to leave, almost to the door when Dulce’s whimpering and the patter of her little feet stops her. Solana turns around and moves to grab her when Dulce scampers right back over to her bed, plopping her little body down.

It’s when she does that, Solana starts to catch on.

“You want to stay in here?” Dulce’s reply is a bark followed by the wag of her tail. Solana frowns. “We can’t…..this is Roman’s room.”

And yet even as the words leave her mouth, she thinks about that. Thinks about the fact that a part of working up to being intimate with Roman includes being close to him, touching him, in his bed perhaps. And though she still doesn’t remember everything from the night she got drunk, she remembers waking up in his bed and falling asleep again in the same bed with zero issues.

She felt….she felt comfortable.

She felt safe.

“We can stay for a little while.” Deep down, Solana knows Roman won’t be upset with her. If anything, he’ll be more annoyed that she didn’t listen and decided to wait up, but her laying in his bed for a few minutes won’t generate anger.

Solana puts her phone on the nightstand, making sure the ringer is still on. The likelihood of him texting or even calling her is slim to none, but still….she doesn’t want to miss it if he does.

Laying on his bed is the initial plan, but there’s a chill in his room that has her moving under the covers just to provide her that slight warmth. It’s not intended to increase her comfort and definitely not intended to lead to her falling asleep.

But that’s exactly what happens.

It’s also the last thing Roman expects to find when he makes it back home a couple hours later.

Solana asleep in his bed.

He knew she would try to stay up, knew she would end up falling asleep in trying to stay up, but he didn’t know she would end up doing all of that in his room, in his bed.

It’s unexpected but far from unwanted, a strange sense of satisfaction at seeing her sleeping so comfortably, so peacefully in his space of all places.

He’s careful in his movements around the room, gathering clothes to change into post shower. Roman doesn’t want to disturb her, to wake her up, especially since he has a good guess that she didn’t intend to end up in his bed and would be unnecessarily apologetic.

Apologetic for something he’s halfway considering asking her to make a permanent thing.

Roman manages to finish his shower without Solana so much as moving an inch. If only her damn dog was the same, because he’s barely able to open the bathroom door when Dulce is at his feet, whimpering.

Small ass dog with an even smaller ass bladder.

Before she can progress to barking, he’s got her up in his arms, guiding her out the room, down the stairs and into the backyard where she thankfully wastes zero time in doing her business. Roman is grateful, not wanting a second to pass where Solana could wake up, freak the fuck out, and leave.

He wants her to stay right where she is.

And it’s in sliding into the bed with her, moving his arm over her body and gently pulling her into him, he realizes another reason why he doesn’t want her to leave. There’s an unfamiliar almost instant peace he has at the feel of her next to him, like this is how it should be, like she should be with him.

Like she’s supposed to be with him.

But he clearly wasn’t thinking straight when he moved her, because she’s suddenly stirring in her sleep, eyes slowly blinking open.

Fuck. He didn’t mean to wake her up.

Roman’s half expecting her to freak out, to panic at being this close to him, at being in bed this close to him. But she again surprises him with a quiet murmur that’s more an acknowledgment than anything. “You’re back….” He watches as she frowns almost, an indication of worry, asking in a voice full of sleep. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He brings his hand to her cheek, recognizing that even though she’s talking, she’s very much still half-sleep. “Go back to sleep.”

Solana gives a little nod and the moment he pulls his hand away, she inches closer to him. He shifts their positions, so he’s on his back, and she’s tucked safely into his side. In what feels like seconds, she’s fast asleep.

Yeah….

A discussion about her moving into his room is definitely on the table, preferably sooner rather than later. It makes sense to him for a lot of reasons, namely the fact that she’s clearly comfortable sleeping with him in this way but also the fact that she’s expressed a desire to work up to being intimate.

Roman’s had sex in a lot of different places, but there’s no way in fucking hell he could ever have his first time with Solana be anywhere but a bed.

His bed.

He plays around with a few different ideas on how to broach the subject before sleep prevails over him too.

It’s the fastest he’s fallen asleep in years.

And he’s certain it has nothing to do with the long ass day he had but everything to do with the woman besides him.

But his sleep is short lived by the vibrating of his phone on the nightstand. Irritated at the interruption of his sleep, he’s not surprised. Roman’s always been a light sleeper.

He peers down to make sure Solana remains undisturbed in her slumber, and seeing that she’s still sleeping as peacefully as before with her body somehow more over his than he remembered, he grabs his phone.

Paul: Sorry to disturb you so late, sir, but I got the files you requested for Miller. Emailed. As we already know, he’s almost a million in the hole. Has been in debt over the past twenty years. Never in the green. The bulk of it was accumulated in 2005. 500K. Summer 2005. Strangely, in that same month, it was cut in half to 250K. Then mysteriously zeroed out in late 07.

Roman sits on the brief summary provided by his Wise Man. It doesn’t add up. He already knew Miller was in the hole. The man is a fucking idiot when it comes to finances, so him being that deeply in debt isn’t surprising, but him somehow getting rid of a quarter million debt is. The fucker isn’t smart enough to pull that off.

Roman: Who was the creditor?

Paul: Still looking into that.

Roman: Anything significant about 07’?

Paul: Not that I can see. Still digging though.

Roman doesn’t like mysteries. Can’t stand unanswered questions. They’ve always driven him fucking insane. It’s why he finds himself unable to fall back asleep, an inconvenient thing given the fact that he’ll need to be up and out of bed in a little under three hours. Still, he can’t get the dates and information out of his head.

How the fuck did a dumbass like Miller clear his ledger to that extent? It’s not unheard of. Roman could have done it. Easily. But, he’s also significantly smarter than his wife’s dumbass father.

Even more, what the hell did Miller need or have done for fucking half a million dollars?

Was he moving product? Weapons, maybe? Human trafficking? Just the thought of that last one makes Roman want to place his fist through the nearest wall.

But it’s Solana stirring on top of him that serves as the unintended trigger that helps him fill in the rest of the gaps.

He’s quick with the text to the Wise Man.

Roman: When was Solana’s mother killed?

Paul: Sir?

Roman: Answer the fucking question.

There’s a brief delay followed by those three dots and an answer.

Paul: 2005. August.

Wheels start turning as Roman begins putting the harrowing pieces together. Miller went into half a million dollar debt in August of 2005 that somehow got slashed in half at the end of the same month. The same month that Solana and her mother were attacked, and only one of them made it out alive.

Half…..

2007….

Roman does some mental math. Solana was born in 95. She’ll be 29 this year. That puts her at age 12 back in 07’.

12.

The same age she was when she was raped.

The same year the largest chunk of her father’s debt suddenly zeroed out and disappeared like it never happened in the first place.

And just like the night he found out Solana was a survivor of childhood sexual assault, the unbridled horror and disgust that filled him in knowing the truth, Roman is starting to wish he wasn’t so good at connecting the dots. That he wasn’t able to put two and two together.

Because the picture is more fucking horrifying than anything he’s encountered in some time. If ever.

Because he’s now faced with the dilemma of just how in the hell he’s supposed to tell Solana that her father is responsible for her mother’s murder but also her being raped.

Because now he’s faced with the dilemma of if he should tell her at all.

Roman closes his eyes.

Shit just got infinitely more complicated.

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

290 notes · View notes

heauxvibez · 25 days ago

Text

Dipsea 3 2/2

Warning: Smut (18+)

Your hands trembled uncontrollably as you fumbled with the key, struggling to fit it into the lock. The adrenaline made every move feel clumsy, your mind still completely consumed by what had just happened. Roman Reigns—the Roman Reigns—his smooth, rich voice, and his sweet, calm presence kept replaying in your thoughts, like a movie stuck on repeat. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked at you at the coffee shop, how his gaze alone commanded your attention.

You barely remembered the drive home. Everything after leaving the shop was a blur. Did you stop at all the red lights? Did you take the familiar streets or end up on the freeway without even realizing? You couldn’t even recall if you had left your half-finished latte behind or if it was still sitting in the cupholder in your car. It was like you were on autopilot, your body moving on its own while your mind was lost in the haze of him.

As soon as you stepped into your apartment, the comforting scent of pine cones and cinnamon wrapped around you like your favorite fuzzy blanket. The warmth inside was a huge difference from the chilly air you had just escaped. It was like the heat itself was welcoming you home, reminding you of how cold it had gotten outside since you left the coffee shop. The sun, which had been shining brightly earlier, was slowly dipping toward the horizon, leaving the sky pretty shades of pink, purple, and orange. The colors lightly shined into your apartment through the balcony making it feel even more homey.

The drastic temperature shift wasn’t surprising—just another typical Los Angeles evening. The day had been warm and sunny as if summer hadn’t quite let go, but by evening, those familiar cool breezes had started creeping in, growing colder by the hour. It was one of those nights where you could feel the cold seeping through the cracks of the windows, but inside, it was all nice and cozy.

You kicked off your Ugg slippers without a second thought, leaving them by the front door, too tired to care about putting them on the shoe rack. They could wait. Your keys landed with a soft jingle on the hook, and you slung your work tote over the back of the nearest dining chair, its usual resting place after a long day.

You let out a deep sigh of relief and finally allowed yourself to relax. After everything, it felt good to be home. The suds clung to your skin as you massaged them over your body, the warm water cascading down like it did every night. You couldn’t help but hum in pleasure, letting the steam and heat relax you. This was always your favorite part of the day—the moment when you could wash away everything and just be. The familiar routine followed: a hot shower, then lotioning up from head to toe, followed by a some good food. Afterward, you'd curl up, rubbing your ankles together as you lost yourself in a good fanfic or binged something on Netflix. It was your perfect form of decompression.

Once you'd exfoliated every inch of your skin and eaten, the couch practically pulled you in. Your body was clean, your belly full, and you could already feel the comforting habit of rubbing your ankles together kicking in. But not yet. First, you needed your fill of him. You grabbed your phone and settled in, sitting upright with your back pressed into the cushion, while your legs stretched out comfortably on the L-shaped section of the couch.

Your oversized t-shirt draped loosely over your body, but tonight, there were no panties sliding down to pool around your ankles like usual. You didn’t want any restrictions, nothing to keep you from fully enjoying the moment. Tonight was about pure comfort, no barriers, just you, him, and the peace of being in your own space.

You opened the familiar app, your fingers moving without a thought as you headed straight to "My Library." There, at the very top, was his glowing image, standing out above all the other audios you sometimes enjoyed but never as much as his. Those others didn’t stand a chance anymore—they’d been permanently pushed to the background, ever since he started sharing himself with this app. He was all you craved.

You’d promised yourself you’d hold off for a few days, saving his audios for those especially tough times when you needed a guaranteed release. But after actually meeting him today there was no way you could wait. He was still in your mind, and the idea of hearing him now, after he’d touched you, was too tempting to resist. Now you couldn’t stop imagining what those muscular hands would feel like around your waist, how they might slide down to slip between your legs. Those hands pressing against your body, while his fingers—so perfectly manicured—teased your clit, playing you so delicately. Your skin tingled just thinking about it.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, "I left my damn AirPods in the car." You sucked your teeth and let out a frustrated huff, annoyed with yourself. The experience just wouldn’t be the same. You refused to settle for listening to him through your phone speaker—what was the point if his voice wasn’t fully enveloping you from both sides? And just playing his audio from your phone while it sat awkwardly on your chest? That was downright criminal. You wouldn’t be able to fully hear him, and it would be like having to say “Huh?” during sex—an absolute mood killer.

You looked over to the TV, eyes landing on the sound bar sitting beneath it on the stand. The corners of your lips curled into a small smile. Sure, it wasn’t the same as having him whisper directly into your ear, but hearing his voice fill the entire living room? That had its own appeal. You could already imagine it—the smooth sound of his voice surrounding you, echoing off the walls, wrapping around your body. Yeah, this was going to have you on fire. Maybe you wouldn’t feel him in your ears, but he’d still be everywhere.

Thank God for screen mirroring. The TV lit up, instantly reflecting the same images from your phone, and you couldn’t help but feel a little giddy as you rummaged through the app. Your eyes stayed focused, fingers tapping and swiping as you scrolled through until you found it—the playlist of seductive narration that always hit the right spot. You felt a bit nervous as your gaze fell on the next audio. You tapped "read more," and the description had you practically holding your breath.

Can you handle the sounds of Joe in your ear when he describes himself touching you? Click here to find out.

Something deep inside told you that this man was about to drive you insane. You could already feel it coming and weren’t sure if you were ready for what he had in store.

With a steadying inhale, you hit play, sinking deeper into the couch, shifting your hips forward to get more comfortable. The initial sound of his breathing filled the room through the sound bar, growing louder, surrounding you, drawing you in as he began setting the scene.

"It feels good having you here with me, ya know..." Damn, he sounded just like he did we he had completely grabbed your attention at the coffee shop earlier. It was just so alluring. "Your body right here against mine, your bare back to my bare chest, somehow fitting perfectly."

Your tongue slid across your bottom lip, your body reacting instinctively to his words. You placed your hands on your stomach, twiddling your fingers, trying to focus. You had a pretty good idea where this was going, but you weren’t about to jump the gun. If Joe wanted to see how well you listened, you were going to listen. From the last two audios, you’d learned that he liked to be in control, liked to take his time, and you were determined to follow his lead. No touching yourself yet—that much you knew.

At least, you hoped you were right.

"Your hips sit perfectly between my legs, ass pressed against me in the most tempting way. Fuck, if I didn’t have these sweats on, I’d be filling you up right now..."

Your lips pressed tightly together, trying to hold back a whimper that threatened to escape. It was silly, really—you were alone, in the comfort of your own home, with no one around to hear you. But something about the way he spoke, made you feel like he could sense you. Like he'd somehow know if you made a sound, and worse, punish you for it, scolding you for interrupting with your needy noises. So instead, your thighs pressed together, trying to stifle the growing arousal the same way you did that suppressed whimper.

"My hands begin to massage your shoulders, doing their best to melt away any knots that got my baby girl stressed. I want you to relax, my love."

You closed your eyes, easily imagining his hands working your shoulders from behind, slowly easing away the tension as you sat nestled between his legs in his favorite recliner. In your mind, you could feel the firm grip of his fingers, kneading at your muscles, just as he described. Your body, propped up much like it was now, except this time, he was there behind you, doing all the work.

"Both of my hands slowly make their way down your arms, as if they're trying to smooth away the goosebumps rising on your skin. Goddamn, I got this effect on you, baby?"

You could practically feel the slow touch of his hands gliding down your arms, leaving a trail of heat in their path. The goosebumps rising on your skin, as if your body was physically reacting to his words alone. Your imagination was coming to life.

And yeah, he definitely had that effect on you. There was no denying it.

"Hell yes," you whispered into the air, "You just have no fucking clue," you moaned squeezing your thighs a bit tighter. You were no longer playing with your fingers but now fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Your fingers so desperately wanted to play with something.

"Mmm, I can tell. I love that I can make you crumble like this." his chuckles thrummed through the speaker and right into your chest, "Fucking weak for me like always."

"Ssss," he sucked air through his teeth, "My hands glide right back up your arms, across your shoulders, down your back, then under your arms, moving deliberately toward your breasts. Your soft skin melts into my hands—so smooth, so supple, so perfectly moisturized. It’s like your body is made for my touch." He let out a low moan, the sound cutting through the air.

"The scent of your body lingers around us—shea butter and vanilla—it’s intoxicating. You smell exactly how you look, baby. Appetizing. Ready to be devoured… every last bit of you."

You could hear him inhale deeply followed by a slow exhale. "And the smell of your juices, fuck… it’s in the air too. That mouth-watering scent I never get tired of."

Your own hands slid under your shirt, moving to your breasts, following his lead, mimicking the actions he described.

"I grab your breasts into my hands," his voice continued, painting the scene in vivid detail, "massaging them slowly, working in gentle circles, my fingers grazing inward. Your nipples slip between my fingertips with each caress, becoming the most beautiful kind of collateral damage."

The phantom sensation of his hands moved just as your own were. He made it feel so real.

Whimpers escaped your lips as you followed along, your hands moving to capture your breasts just as he described. Your fingers spread wide before closing in, applying slow, tender pinches that turn you on more than possible. Muscle memory kicked in, and you imagined it wasn’t your own hands but his working over your skin, making your nipples pebble and harden more with every stroke. You remembered exactly what they felt like. You could feel him there, touching you so intimately.

"I start placing slow, sensual kisses against the nape of your neck," his voice rumbled through the speakers, "As if it’s my way of softening the roughness of my hold on you. My lips sink into your skin just like my hands do."

The sound of soft kissing echoed through the room, your skin tingling as the scene played out in your head. It felt so real, the warmth of his breath against your neck, the slow press of his lips against your skin. Goosebumps rose on your arms as you imagined it, "Skin so soft, so pretty—just like you, baby girl."

You heard one kiss, then another, then another.

"The hairs of my mustache brush against the coiling curls near your ear," his voice continued, "I couldn’t help but kiss those too. You always say how much you hate the texture of your hair, but I love it. It always reminds me of how deeply you're rooted—"

Your heart fluttered at that, the tender detail of him appreciating the very thing you’d actually often criticized about yourself. It made the everything feel a bit more real. You imagined his lips brushing against your coils, kissing them softly, making you feel cherished.

"Reminds me of how deep your skin is," he murmured.

"Rich,"

"Chocolate," he whispered, his lips sounded like they were brushing against your skin.

"Beautiful," he finished, each word followed by another tender kiss, the sounds echoed.

"My kisses descend from your neck to your shoulder and then back up again," he continued, "I can feel you molding against me, our bodies fitting together perfectly. Little gasps escape your lips as you're falling apart—overstimulated, frustrated. You want to be touched so bad, don’t you?"

You were panting softly, those gentle breaths gradually getting a bit more intense. Your hands were still teasingly playing with your breasts. You gave a quick, desperate nod, your hair bouncing against your forehead as you did so.

"I know, mama. Daddy is going to give you exactly what you want, you deserve it."

"My left-hand keeps grasping your breast, fingers teasing your nipple, feeling it harden between my thumb and middle finger. It feels so good under my touch. My right-hand starts its slow journey down your stomach, savoring every inch, fully aware that your slick folds are my ultimate destination. I leisurely trace a path, enjoying the torture you must be going through.

As I reach your navel, I draw light circles around it, knowing just how sensitive you are there. I can feel your body shiver at my touch,"

Your fingertips follow along, drawing slow circles right where he is. Each little motion makes your clit pulse. You can feel your juices trickling down your slit, soaking into the fabric of your t-shirt beneath you. You've never wanted to touch yourself so badly.

"My middle finger glides right above your clit, making those same small circles with just the right amount of pressure—enough to get you worked up but not quite enough to leave you fully satisfied. It keeps you writhing beneath me, soft whimpers escaping your lips as you beg for more. Shit." he moans, his voice sending you to the moon.

"I might just nut from doing this to you, baby." He mumbles, he was starting to sound needy.

"My finger slips through your folds, effortlessly separating your lips and sinking deep into your pussy. Mmm, you're so tight, so warm, and so fucking wet for me. I pull it out, relishing the sensation, and then push it back in, this time going deeper. I can feel every little shudder and clench around my finger, and I go deep enough that I graze that spot inside you that makes you gasp. You try to hunch forward instinctively, chasing the sensation, but my grip on your chest keeps you stable, pulling you close to me, making sure you can feel every little thing."

The sounds of wetness fill the air, mixing with the sounds from the audio. Your fingers are deep inside your pussy now, moving in time, mimicking the pace perfectly.

"I just know you're losing it, baby," he murmurs, "My hair dangling against your skin, brushing softly as I lean in closer. My lips trail along your neck, kissing and teasing, while my fingers twist and turn around your sensitive bud. I’m fucking you with my fingers, curling and curving just right as I press against that sweet spot that drives you wild. I know it’s making you crazy, mama, that desperate need for more, for deeper, for everything."

"I know this shit is making your heart flutter," sloosh.

"I know this shit is making you question why I'm doing you like this," sloosh.

"I know this shit is overstimulating the fuck out of you," sloosh.

With each sentence, your fingers dig deeper, pushing you closer and closer. He wasn’t lying—he was talking you through it, and you were losing yourself, drowning in the wave of his words.

“I pull my finger out, watching your juices cling to it, glistening and thick. The further I pull away, the thinner the string becomes, stretching between us. We both just stare at it, like it’s got us hypnotized. It’s mesmerizin', ain't it?” His voice dipped lower, “I’ve been craving this, been too long since I’ve had you like this… and now, I can’t resist anymore.”

"I bring my finger to my mouth, lips wrapping around it slowly, teasingly. Mmm,” he groaned softly, as if he was savoring the taste. “Daddy’s been thinking about tasting you all day, princess. You taste so fucking good, like the sweetest thing I’ve ever had. Can’t get enough.” his words made your body ache for him.

With a soft chuckle, his voice came in closer. “Here, baby girl... just open up for me.”

You bring your finger to your mouth, savoring the taste, and let out a soft moan just like he had when your essence 'brushed against his palate'. The sweet, thick juices coat your tongue, warm and silky as they spread across your taste buds.

“You taste so fucking good, don’t you?” he teases with a smirk you could hear so clearly. The way he says it makes your skin heat up, and you can almost picture the way his lips are curling, just like they did earlier when he was looking at you.

You moaned in agreement. "Now it's your turn baby. I want you to put your fingers in this time. Let's see how long you last listening to Daddy moan in your ear..."

Your fingers slid through your wetness, middle, and ring finger working together as they moved in and out, curling slightly as you explored for that sweet spot. The soft, silky walls of your body hugged them perfectly, the strokes drawing out the knots in your belly as you continued to tease yourself.

“So soft and warm, ain’t it?” he asked, “Fuck, yesss,” you whispered breathlessly, sinking even deeper into the feeling. Your chest and stomach twisting from his voice and the way your body responded. “Shit feels good, don’t it?” he groaned, his voice rough, “Now you get why I never want to escape from being buried deep between those legs. It’s like a trap… those sweet, soft, gushy walls just pull me in, every.fucking.time.” His words came out through clenched teeth.. well, you just knew they were from the way he sounded and it was driving you absolutely insane at the thought of it.

You could feel your juices pooling beneath you, gathering at the curve of your ass, the fabric of your shirt barely holding it back. You knew it was already seeping into the couch, creating a mess you’d deal with later, but right now, that was the last thing on your mind.

“Look at it, baby,” he rasped. His breath hitched as if he could feel everything with you. You obeyed, your eyes locked on the sight of your glistening fingers, coated in your own wetness, moving slowly, as if you were savoring the moment with him.

“That’s it, princess,” he growled softly, “so fucking beautiful. Just like that, nice and slow.” your pussy pulsed with need. You imagined him right there with you, eyes dark as he watched you unravel.

His moans grew deeper, more ragged, and you matched the rhythm with your fingers. “Shit,” he groaned, “feel you dripping for me. Keep going, baby girl, don’t stop. You’re doing so good for me.”

Your breath was becoming more labored, each stroke of your palm against your clit pushing you closer to the edge. The way he spoke, the groans, the shaky breath, all of it made you sink deeper into the cushions of your couch. His voice alone could bring you over and over and over. And just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, his final words tipped you over the edge.

“Now, baby girl,” he whispered, his voice a soft command, “cum for me. Let me hear how sweet you sound when you fall apart.”

-------------------------------------------------------

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @sortudademais @empressdede @alichesmi

@msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80

@headoftheetable @trashbin-nie @saintmagx @venusesworld @mzv11

@tshepisho @cyberdejos2 @femdisa @dayaimonee @sayyestoheav3nn

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #wwefanfic #roman reigns x black reader #wwe #romanreignsimagine

141 notes · View notes

romanreignsbae · 3 months ago

Text

Forbidden Desires - Chapter 1

R.R

Y/n was always what everyone considered blessed. Now, being the assistant for the tribal chief had it’s perks. For starters, you rode around in his luxurious bus, that only few people were allowed on.

You also, were granted with being able to fly on private jets to get from place to place, as well as exquisite hotel rooms booked and paid for.

Especially your schedule. Roman Reigns wasn't showing up to every pay per view. Not even every Friday night SmackDown. He made appearances when he felt like it. So you were usually home, that didn't mean you were off work, you had other things to handle.

Many people wanted to be you, or at least wanted your job. While these people we’re wanting your job and status, you were wanting the man you worked for, your boss, none other then Roman Reigns.

You’d been working for him for almost 4 years now. Ever since he pursued his heel character, you’d been hired as his assistant. Being his assistant wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought. You thought he’d order you around to do his dirty work, but working for him was nicer then excepted.

All you really did was keep track of his hectic schedule, pack his luggage for him, and follow him around during meetings and travels...even taking care of something he claimed to be more important then work. And not to mention the money was a plus. He paid you better then you deserved, you swore it was favouritism, for obvious reasons.

Over the years you worked for him, you two created a special bond. Yes, he was your boss. But, he was also your friend. You two would often spend time together even during non work related times. You could find the both of you at a bar together. Or having movie nights in each other’s hotel rooms. You loved it. And maybe loved him..

The only problem in your way was the age gap you two shared. You were in your early twenties whereas Roman was on the verge of 40. The age gap wasn’t even a big deal to you. But, if others found out you’d grown feelings for your boss. All hell would break loose. See, Roman, is extraordinarily popular with females.

Like seriously, he has some die hard female fans. Most around your age. If anyone found out about this little crush you’d developed..well..you’d for starters be fired, and your reputation would be completely destroyed.

So here you are, sitting in the tribal chief’s private jet, waiting to land in Las Vegas. “Alright, only about a hour to go” a familiar deep voice spoke. You looked up to see Roman sitting comfortably in his seat, staring intently at you. “Yeah..” you mumbled.

“Whats up with you? You been like this all flight, completely out of it. What’s wrong are you sick? Do you have a fever? The flu? Is- nevermind..” Roman spoke worried. “No no, im good” you spoke as reassuringly as you could. He looked at you skeptically before closing his Macbook and making his way to sit beside you.

He sat beside you and looked at you for a few seconds before speaking up. “What’s planned for today?” he asked you. You quickly opened your Ipad before checking his schedule. “Well..today your free, tomorrow you have a meeting in the afternoon, its a long one” you told him.

“Damn, I hate the long meetings” he spoke with a smile. “They are the worst” you agreed grinning. “Anyways, since i’m free today, why don’t you and I head out, go do something fun together, away from work..you know after we get settled in..” he spoke almost nervously.

You were surprised to say the least. You didn’t think he would wanna spend his free day with you. “Yeah sure. What do you wanna do?” you asked him while trying to hide your growing smile. “Anything you want. Actually you know what? Lemme take you shopping, Las Vegas is known for their malls” he requested with a wink. Your cheeks started heating up.

“Sure” you spoke softly. He smiled at you before striking up new conversation about some investors looking to partner with WWE. It kept yourself distracted from the mess in your mind. Before you knew it, you landed in Las Vegas, and your uber was here to take you and Roman to the hotel.

Once you arrived to your hotel, you and Roman headed to the front desk to get the keys to your rooms.

“I’m sorry sir but, only one room has been booked-” the hotel worker spoke.

“That cant be! You don’t understand, I called yesterday booking two rooms!” Roman spoke roughly at the worker. Your feelings were hurt to say the least. You didn’t think he’d be this avoidant at sharing a room with you, especially after the favor you did him. You instantly felt your heart swelling and tears coming to your eyes.

You refused to cry over this so you grabbed Roman’s arm. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom, i’ll be right back” you spoke softly. Roman slightly nodded his head before going back to barking at the hotel employee.

You took as long as you could trying to get yourself together in the bathroom. You had just arrived is Les Vegas and he was already making you feel like shit. You didn’t even understand what the problem was. Well, deep down you did...you knew he didn't wanna make the same mistake.

You made your way back to the lobby to see a more calm and quiet Roman standing by the elevators.

“So Y/n..they are all booked and it looks like me and you are roommates for the next few nights” he told me. “I’m really sorry..” he added ashamed.

Your eyes widened. Why was he sorry? He didn’t even do anything. Well apart side from almost making you cry, but thats besides the point.

“Roman..why are you sorry? It’s just a room..no biggie” you spoke, plus it's not like you haven't shared one before.

“Because well, I don’t want you to feel like i’m taking advantage of you..and I don’t wanna make things awkward and weird between us..” he went on nervously.

You both knew he was lying straight through his teeth. That wasn't the real reason.

You took his words in before responding. You reached out and touched his arm reassuringly. “Ro, that’s okay, seriously I don’t mind.” you let him know. You'd be careful this time. He smiled at you almost gratefully knowing you understood.

The hotel room the two of you would be sharing was nothing less then absolutely luxurious. But you weren't surprised, the tribal chief always needed the best.

After the two of you settled into your hotel room, Roman called for an Uber to take you two to the mall. Inside the uber Roman and you made small talk back and forth but no one could deny the elephant in the room.

A little secret the two of you shared was up in the air. Something no one could know about...otherwise everything would be ruined. He warned you, if anyone found out what the two of you shared, it was over.

Everything was.

That was the first chapter of forbidden desires that I've been putting off. I have a lot more sitting in my drafts for you guys that'll be out soon. Also what do you think the little secret is? Let me know what you think of this chapter.

205 notes · View notes

daddyhausen · 2 years ago

Text

• acknowledgment — roman reigns •

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ masterlist } | { wwe masterlist } | { roman reigns masterlist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ summary } — your job was simple, acknowledge your tribal chief

{ warnings } — 18 + { minors do not interact }, oral sex { male receiving }, power imbalance, power play, asphyxiation, hair pulling, face slapping, tit slapping, pussy slapping, throat fucking, cumshots, facials, throat pie, size difference, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, male + female orgasms, internal cumshots, vaginal creampie, squirting

{ word count } — 2.9k

{ pairing } — fem!reader x roman reigns

{ genre } — smut

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ taglist } — @stxrrlightwrites13 @boutmachines @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @legit9thlunaticwarrior @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @baybay-boom @bonehead-playz @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

it was a flurry of emotions after roman’s triumphant win over a now heartbroken cody rhodes. paul was spouting praises that fell on your deaf ears as you casually sauntered behind the pack of brothers known as jimmy, jay and solo, the youngest of the three remaining silent all with a brooding stare while his brothers cheered and celebrated their cousin’s big win.

“excellent job out there, my tribal chief! you were absolutely marvellous, cody did not stand a chance-“ paul’s albeit over the top praise of your tribal chief only offered an eye roll on your part. of course roman won, only your wished he had done it on his own instead of relying on the twins and solo to do his bidding. still…you were proud of him nonetheless and he was still champion of course and that’s all that mattered now.

yet roman remained stoic, barely acknowledging their presence for the time being, cody surely did put up a fight, even had you holding your breath in a mix of fear and anticipation, you’d never seen roman so desperate in a match before, and you knew that was eating away at your tribal chief.

“how should we celebrate, my tribal chief? i have a limousine parked out front, wherever you want to go it shall take you-“

“paul.” roman spoke sternly not even offering the wise man a mere glance in his direction, one that made mr. hayman’s blood run cold, his face had an unusual pallor to it, almost going grey in fear, the only word leaving his lips was a meek “yes”

“leave…” roman grumbled, placing his recently defended titles beside him onto the couch with a haphazard throw. “all of you”

you watched them all leave one by one. paul scurried out the door first, followed by the twins, jimmy first than jay. solo held back for a bit offering you a small parting glance as you held the door open for them.

“not you, y/n” roman’s voice shot up from the silence just as you were about to leave. his tone was stern and it left you, admittedly, a bit frightened. you closed the door behind you, quickly turning to face your tribal chief who had already made himself comfortable on the couch. his skin glowing under the warm lights of the locker room, still glazed over with perspiration, his hair slicked back into a haphazard bun, he sat back into the couch legs spread, his chest still heavy with laboured breaths. an inviting sight it surely was. you kept your head down to avoid his gaze, fearful of what your tribal chief’s next words.

“you seemed a bit quiet tonight.” roman simply remarked. eyeing you down curiously. “care to tell me why?”

you managed to gulp down the fear that rose in your throat, still avoiding your tribal chiefs stare.

“t-to be truthful, m-my tribal c-chief…” you began, already stuttering over your words “i was a bit worried that you would not retain tonight…”

“what do you mean by that? did you think that i wasn’t capable of beating some pathetic loser like cody?” roman’s demanded shifted slightly, he leaned forward, a single forearm upon his knee, staring you down, despite the distance in which he sat from you, it felt like his presence was looming over your figure

“no! that not what i meant at all, my tribal chief!-“ your words seemed panicked to roman’s ears which pricked up at your sudden hostility

“then what did you mean by it?” roman sneered, still feeling as if he was standing daggers through you. you stammered over your words, barely able to string a sentence together all in which made roman give up his interrogation with a scoff, resuming his original position on the couch.

“come to think of it, i don’t think i heard you acknowledge your tribal chief yet” he was right, you’d been so caught up today with all the cody drama that you had forgotten completely. you went to open your mouth to speak before roman cut you off again

“not like that, sweetheart” roman reached past the waistband of his ring gear, freeing his cock from the restraint of it. his half hard cock slapped against his stomach, tip glossy with pre-cum. your cheeks grew heated, never had you seen a more magnificent cock. roman was thick, much thicker than any you’ve encountered, his size was also impressive, an imposing nine inches at most, thick veins wrapped around his shaft.

“like this” he slowly began to stroke himself simply at the thought of ruining your throat, you gulped thickly, already feeling a tightness in your oesophagus.

“now…” be began, releasing the grip on his cock “come acknowledge me”

your movements were almost instinctual. just about to practically crawl on your hands and knees towards him if he so please before refraining for a moment. you gathered yourself, allowing yourself to collect your thoughts for a moment despite none of actual substance forming, your gaze merely fixated on roman’s size as he casually stroked the lower half of his shaft. you made slow, cautious strides towards him, his cocky gaze looming over your figure, a sliver of a smirk twitched on the corners of his lips. eventually you’d made your way between his thighs, kneeling before him as he stared down at you demeaningly.

“open your mouth for me” roman instructed, still lazily pumping his cock as you obliged. your tongue parted your lips, the appendage hanging out of your mouth, waiting for his next instruction. he shuffled his hips forward momentarily, hand still wrapped firmly around the base of his shaft, slapping the tip of his cock against the flat of your tongue a couple of times, droplets of his pre-cum mingling with your tastebuds.

his free hand snaked around the back of your head, fingers knotting in your hair, tugging at the roots as he pushed your throat down around his cock. you choked at the foreign feeling, a sound that only warmed his loins further. he gave a small gutteral moan, the vibrations of your throat caused such a delicious reverb around his cock.

“shit, babygirl…” roman muttered through clenched teeth as your lips enclosed around his being shaft “who knew you could suck cock this good…”

roman’s words were breathy and almost dreamlike as he continued to use your throat, not allowing you up for air for what felt like minutes at a time. he kept his hips still, the only movement being that of your head, he’d taken it between two hands effectively using your throat as a makeshift fleshlight, not that you cared you were just happy to please your tribal chief.

“mmm…such a good little whore for me…” roman’s eyes fluttered closed in his blissful state, simply basking in the feeling of your warm, wet mouth. the tips of his fingers, as rough as they held your hair, massaged your scalp with small circles. you peered up at him, the whites of your eyes slightly bloodshot and glazed over, the assault on your throat pricked them with tears, roman payed no mind to it, too wrapped up in his own pleasure to care. his cock stretched your lips, his thickness made it feel as if they were going to tear at the corners at any moment. they way he stuffed your throat, trapping the air in your lungs while you choked and gasped around him was nothing short of exhilarating.

“look at you…your little mouth can’t even take half my cock” roman mocked with a sly grin, an equally matched chuckle fell from his parted lips. he stood up, despite being flushed with exhaustion from his match, he’d obtained a sudden burst of energy, what from he dosen’t know, maybe it was the sight of you gagging around his length that got his adrenaline pumping. his grip still tangled in your hair, knuckles turning bone white at the tightness, without warning, he pushed your head further down, his cock sinking into the back of your throat, until the tip of your nose was nestled against the base of his shaft. he would not move, no matter how much you scratched and clawed at his thighs, so desperate for air.

“you need to acknowledge me, sweetheart” you stared up at him, almost a twinge of malaise in your glare but it was quickly dismissed by him. he knew you’d fall in line soon enough. he kept you there for a moment, simply enjoying your choked gasps and sputters, the sensation reverberating around his thick cock. he noticed your eyes beggining to flatter from your fixed gaze upon him, eyelashes starting to bat softly as unconsciousness was slowly taking over. you were just on the brink of passing out when he ripped his cock from your throat

you gasped and choked, finally able to get air into your lungs after what felt like hours, roman stared down at you with a malicious grin, his cock cascading a shadow over your form, his shaft glossed over and dripping with your spit.

“you gonna acknowledge me now?” his tone was dry yet, still held onto that sly flirtatious wit.

“fuck you-“ you did not mean to curse at him like that, let alone raise your voice at him. you hand reached around your throat to try and soothe the burning sensation within it. as much as you enjoyed the wonderful assault from his cock. roman’s gaze quickly turned cold, the once cocky smirk now replaced with a scowl, he barely gave you enough time to catch your breath before he interlocked both hands him your scalp, forcing his thick cock back down your throat for more lovely abuse to continue

“so you’re taking back to me now, huh? who gave you the fucking right to do that, you little whore?” roman’s cock slipped in and out of your throat with ease, desperate to ruin it, to make you choke on his cum.

“you’re only job is to acknowledge me, to take this cock like a good little slut, do you fucking understand me!?” of course you did, roman took the hint by the lack of claw marks in his thighs, the way you’d stopped resisting, not that you were resisting in the first place. the way you’d become completely absent to yourself, being completely subservient to him

roman came down your throat without warning, his hot seed filling your cheeks with warmth. you swallowed him greedily, an apology of sorts for speaking back to him, you showed him your tongue as he pulled out, an act of compliance of some sorts, he related what he had done previously, slapping the tip of his cock against your tongue some droplets fell atop your cheeks as he beckoned you to stand. you did, and with that he offered you a rough slap to your cheek, one that send shockwaves of arousal to your core. he cupped the skin as it began to redden, his thumb smoothing over the burning flesh

“don’t you ever speak to me like that again, otherwise i won’t be so easy on you” his fingers fell to the buttons of your blouse, unbuttoning the semi-sheer material all while keeping you’re gaze. you skin burned with heart, and no that was not the lingering effects of that previous slap, roman had a way of commanding people, making them feel small and helpless under him and by god it was surely working. he had removed your blouse with such ease that you had not even realised it happened before he reached around to unclasp your bra, not before groping your clothed breasts in his large palms.

he was quick to undo the clasps, letting the lace material fall to the floor, he admired your breasts for a moment, adoring them, he repeated the process, groping them, kneading the supple flesh, your nipples hardened at the contact, his calloused palms grazing against the swollen buds. without warning he slapped them both, the sensation made a small yelp of pain to leave your lips. he only chuckled at your reaction. he made his way behind you, impatient and needy as he unzipped your tight pencil skirt, throwing it across the room into the pile of clothes that slowly started to form near the door. roman stuck a large hand into your panties, his fingertips toying with your sensitive clit, marveling at just how wet he had made you.

“you’re such a little slut, you know that, y/n…” he smirked into the crook of your neck. “listen to how fucking wet this little pussy is for me”

he did not have to do much, simply part your folds with his fingers for you to hear that wet sloshing sound of your cunt, one that you adored so much. roman pried his fingertips from your panties bringing them to your lips for you to taste only for him to bypass your lips completely, bringing them to his own. he relished in your sweetness, a drawn out moan ripped through his throat as he licked his fingers clean.

“i might just have to devour you, babygirl” his words gave you a sliver of hope, a gasp help in your throat for a moment.

“but tonight is not about you. it’s about me” roman ripped your panties clean off, leaving your dripping cunt exposed to the elements roma have a harsh slap to your dripping cunt, one that made you wince in excitement. he grabbed your wrist, dragging you over to the couch once more. he took his seated position again, pulling you atop his lap, lining up his thick cock with you entrance. he gave you no time to adjust to your surroundings before he stuffed you full of him

“roman…” you whined, head thrown back in pleasure simply by being stretched out by him. he cocked an eyebrow accusingly at the use of his name.

“my tribal chief…” you corrected yourself quickly. noticing a satisfied smirk form across his lips. “y-you’re so big”

“i know” roman chuckled, beginning to move with slow, deep thrusts to set the pace. he kept his gaze on your breasts, loving the way they voiced and jiggled every time he fucked up into you, a singe hand place on your hip to guide your movements, the way you swirled and bucked against him, so needy and feverish to get him off.

“you look so fucking tiny on my cock” roman mocked, comparing your radical size difference. he took a mental note of the way his cock outlined in your stomach, each thrust made it bulge against your skin. your cunt was trembling around his size, taking each inch deeper and deeper until you were stuffed to the brim. as much as you did not want to admit, you enjoyed the way roman used you like this, his personal fuck toy. it beats doing his paperwork for sure.

your hips seemed to bounce absentmindedly, your mind too fixated in achieving orgasm that you completely forgot you have not acknowledged him yet. your body hummed with pleasure so close to the edge that you did not care if he didn’t cum, you just needed to.

“i acknowledge you, my tribal chief” you whimpered through small, breathless moans. he’d caught ear of your words, simply smirking to himself. he pulled your hips down with both hands, holding you down on his cock as he practically rearranged your insides. roman’s chest heaved with arousal, the force of his thrusts bucked you into his chest, your breasts pushed up against his solid frame. his large palms fell to your ass, gripping the pillowy flesh as he slammed into you with such delicious force. roman’s dementor shifted quite rapidly from before. at first he was insulting, demeaning, now he was attentive, respectful almost

“you gonna cum for me, babygirl” his words were soft against your skin, lips pressed into the crook of your neck. you meekly hummed in response, feeling the tightness of your stomach increase. he rested back into the couch, adoring the way your ass bounced back against his cock. he pried your face up for him to look at. he admired your beauty, they way you mouth hung open with breathless pants, eyes rolling into the back of your skull, completely fucked out

you came around him, the proverbial flood gates opening. nails clinging to his biceps, digging into the flesh as your slammed your hips down against his. he was quick to follow, pressing your hips against his, holding your waist tight as he emptied rope after rope of his cum deep inside you. his lips inches from yours, teasing you with faux kisses before planting open mouthed ones to the side and column of your throat.

“fuck-“ he groaned against your skin, still holding you still. his pupils were blown with a mix of adoration and lust. he peered down at you for a moment, noticing the redness still evident on your cheek, he cupped it again, your skin feeling so delicate in his palm.

“i’m sorry if i hurt you, babygirl…” he hummed softly against your cheek, pressing a soft kiss to the burning skin. you did not expect such a sensitive and compassion side from roman

“why don’t i take you back to the hotel? eat you out for doing such a good job huh?, how does that sound?”

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

#{ my fics : 🤍 }#roman reigns #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfic #wwe #wwe x reader #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wwe fanfic #wrestling imagine #wrestling smut

2K notes · View notes