#roman reigns x black!o.c

[sillyteecup]

The Wrong Way

Roman Reigns x black!o.c

Jey Uso x black!o.c

Chapter 4

Warnings:

18+

Strong language

Misogyny

Mention of sexual assault

Taglist: @wrestlingprincess80 @nbanenefrmdao @vebner37 @theninthwonder @tshepisho @lensilver2 @trentybenty @empressdede @queen-shadow22 @becauseimher @jstarr86 @jaded-human @c-sgolden

A.N: This took me too damn long😭😭in my defense though, school has been drowning me and I've barely had the time to get this done quick enough, but ke...what can be said? Anyway, here is chapter 4 of The Wrong Way. I hope you like it. Enjoy❤️

Lori did not believe in setting expectations for people. As it was, she tried to keep her social interactions with anyone she did not know or trust to a minimal. Being a certified introvert, she thought it to be unrealistic to hold people to any social standards before speaking to them. All expectations bred disappointments as life is fickle. Human beings weren't nearly as fickle as life, but they could never be the exception to the rule.

All of that to say, she didn't know what to expect from the Tribal Prince Jey, as the first they met he grinned at her as though she were a piece of meat, and then the second time he glared at her like a foe. Now they were seated opposite each other in the matte black suv that Paul assigned to them, and he still had a scowl on his face.

"Have we met perhaps?" Lori questioned, breaking the heavy silence.

Jey tilted his head, features dancing between confusion and wondering if she was just stupid. "What?" he asked.

"Well you've been glaring at me since I landed, so I couldn't help but wonder if we had crossed paths and I happened to have wronged you by chance," she said indignantly, her irritation at his current expression slowly boiling.

"You're one to talk, when you don't look like the happiest trooper yourself," Jey said evenly, trying to keep an iron grip on his temper.

"Well I'm sure you can agree that there is nothing to be happy about as it stands," Lori pointed out bitterly.

Jey's face scrunched up in mild annoyance. "Yet you asked to ride with me. And for what? So you can shit on me for not acting like everything is sunshine and rainbows?" Jey spat, getting angrier by the sexond.

"I asked for you to accompany me so that we could perhaps get to know each other and maybe figure out a way to make this work, not have you sit there pouting like some petulant child who was denied pudding after dinner!" Lori hissed, finally losing her temper.

She watched as Tribal Prince Jey sat in his seat, jaw clenching as he likely fought the urge to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze till she was dead. If only he knew that she had the same thoughts swimming around her mind.

"Says the immature little bitch that threw a tantrum in the middle of a meeting because things weren't going her way," Jey said venomously.

"Tribal Prince Jey I assure you that while I respect your royal standing, I cannot allow you to call me out of my name. I shall hold my tongue because I was raised to be a respectable young lady, but-" she had begun to rant before being cut off by a mirthles chuckle from Jey.

"Respectable? Girl you a whole ass ho that runs around serving up pussy to every man that smiles at you," he said maliciously.

At this, Lori's heart stopped. Her hands began to tremble as tears threatened to spill form her eyes. She mentally condemned her father to hell for the way he painted the loss of her virginity as her being promiscuous. She had always rued the day she trusted him to understand and empathize with her for what actually happened that night. But now, at this very moment, she hated him for this false portrait he had sold of her to this family. He threw her trauma like a piece of raw meat into a den of lions. One day, he would pay.

"You do not know anything about me," she said, tone lowering as she seethed in rage.

There was another one of those mirthles laughs. "I don't need to. And frankly, I don't want to. Just 'cause we engaged, don't mean I need to coddle your feelings or be your friend or whatever the fuck you were hoping to achieve here!"

Lori bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from speaking out of line. Just because he was an insulant fool, it did not mean she had to stoop this level down in hell to defend herself. She was a woman of honor and dignity; there was no place in her mind that was reserved for engaging in petty spats with an individual such as Tribal Prince Jey.

"If that is what you so wish, then very well," she said evenly, marking him as dead to her.

No one could say she did not try.

➽──────────────❥

Roman, Paul and Sami arrived at the family mansion, or "the palace" as they usually called it, to find Miss Loreal Moore with her maidens, and Jey waiting for them. While the maidens each took in the courtyard with awe, Jey and his fiancé seemed disgruntled.

"Damnit," Roman whispered to himself. Even after the clear warning he had given Jey, his cousin did not cooperate. Roman could not let his incompetence slide as it would set a bad example to his brothers and the rest of their cousins. But he would deal with that later.

"The lady looks unhappy, my Tribal Chief," Paul pointed out, only adding to the grating of Roman's nerves.

"Wiseman, please tell me something. Do I look blind maybe?" Roman questioned him sarcastically, to which he shook his head rapidly while stammering for an answer.

"N-no, never my-my Tribal Chief. Your eyesight is absolutely perfect. 20/20 vision I would say-" Paul rambled, attempting to calm Roman down before he angered him even further.

"Then what made you feel the need to point out something that I can so obviously fucking see?" Roman said through gritted teeth. Everybody just seemed keen on trying his patience today and he couldn't understand why.

"I apologize my tribal Chief. But, may I ask, are there any plans by chance that the Tribal Chief may have to sway the lady in our favor?" Paul genuinely asked. If there was one thing Roman appreciated about his Wiseman, it was his dedication to the family. However Roman couldn't let his real plans be known, as one of the pieces to his little chess game was in the front seat.

"The best we can do right now is be hospitable. Show her that she's in the right place," Roman said before flashing a smile at Sami through the rearview mirror. "Ain't that right Sami?" he asked Sami in what has half a joke and half a threat.

Sami caught onto this and his lips curled up nervously. "Yes my Tribal Chief, definitely," he laughed nervously, earning a pat on the shoulder from Roman.

"Wiseman, get my door," Roman commanded while keeping his eyes on Sami. The moment Paul left the car, Roman leaned in to whisper into Sami's ear. "You and Miss Loreal Moore friends, Sami?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"She's been very kind to me my Tribal Chief," was all Sami said.

"I hope you've been returning the energy. After all, she might need a new friend around here," Roman whispered, sounding genuinely concerned for the lady.

"Oh, yes definitely, my Tribal Chief. I have shown Miss Loreal Moore nothing but kindness and I would be happy to be her friend if she allowed it," Sami rambled nervously. Roman moved back and smiled.

"Good, good. You're a good man Sami," he said, ending the conversation right before Paul finished announcing his presence and opened his door.

Right as he stepped out, Ms Loreal Moore's sharp gaze shot into his direction. "Miss Loreal Moore, you seem displeased-" Roman began to say, being cut off by his cousin's fiancé.

"I wish to go home. Now," she stated, her voice trembling as she struggled to hold it together.

Roman was taken aback by her demand. Her tone sounded to him like she had likely been angered or triggered by something Jey said. His neutral gaze quickly shifted into questioning glare towards Jey, who only scowled and turned away.

"I'm sure that whatever that happened to to make you wanna do that can be fixed. I don't know you well but you seem like a smart, mature and level headed woman. So let's just-" Roman began to say to calm her down only it be interrupted again. Which was beginning to get on his nerves.

"That thing you just did; attempting to soothe my ego to gaslight me into agreeing with whatever" solution" you were going to come up with? I hate it. It is an insult to my intelligence. And from what I can see, this family seems to be built on the foundation of insulting those they feel are lesser beings to them! I am by no means a fool! I know why that-" she took a breath to control herself mid-rant before continuing.

"I know why my father sold me to you people. I did not expect to be treated kindly or for this to be a fairytale of sorts, hell I did not even expect to be treated with integrity. But what I cannot take is being refferred to by obscene words, and then having my intelligence insulted less than 4 minutes later. If this is how it is to carry on going forward, then I would rather you put me on the next flight back to my home, so that I may live out the rest of my days in unmarried bliss," she finally finished before letting out a heavy exhale.

Roman clenched his jaw and nodded. He began to rethink every time he said Naomi was too stubborn for her own good. Compared to Miss Loreal Moore, Naomi was child's play. Even though she always gently kept them grounded, she had never outright called them out on their bullshit. Let alone on her first day on the island. As much as Roman appreciated this woman's strength, he also understood that she was going to be a nasty piece of work to mould into their image. Yet he found himself enticed by the challenge. Clearly he would have to break her and rebuild her in an image he saw fit. And one thing about Roman? He enjoyed playing God. But he would have to be smart about this. She had already seen through his first trick, which to be fair he hadn't even thought was one to begin with. He was just used to solving problems like that. Nevertheless, he was going to have to get far smarter than he ever had.

"I see. Wiseman, show them to their rooms. They've all had a pretty long day and are in no state to travel right now," he commanded, noticing the storm grow in Miss Loreal's eyes.

"Miss Loreal Moore, I shall speak with you tomorrow morning at 07:00 once you've had enough sleep," he added, hoping to quell her still rising temper.

Her eyes narrowed as she bit the inside of her cheek. It was as if she had realized that now that Roman had made his choice, there was no arguing. At least she held authority to a high regard to some extent.

➽──────────────❥

Skin illuminated by the sun rising, Lori took in the appearance of her room. The walls were a dull dull beige that contrasted poorly with the dark oak doors and large, arched windows. The curtains were a glaringly bright red, an irritating sight that drove Lori to open the curtains at the crack of dawn. They with the bedding sets and the velvet couch on the other end of the room. It was big, more spacious than the one back home. She hadn't bothered to check the size of the closet as she had no intentions staying long. The carpet and sheets were black, along with the blackwood vanity set. The whole room was dreadful.

And so was this family. Lori's mind had been flooded with predictions of how the Tribal Chief would try to coax her into staying. Having caught on to his tactic yesterday and with the understanding of the weight this marriage holds, she figured that Tribal Chief Roman would likely attempt slither his way into her mind to convince her that all of this was worth it in the end.

And maybe it was, but a few words dipped in caramel would not suffice in proving that to Lori. She glanced at the huge round clock on the wall next to the bathroom door, 05:30. Her maidens had insisted on making sure that they were at her side by five o'clock sharp, however Lori resisted. Insisting that she would much prefer if for the first time in a very long time, they rested. They deserved it. And her parents were not there to tell them otherwise.

After bathing and moisturising in complete solitude for the first time since she was born, she took the long-sleeved cotton sundress that. Minerva had picked out and ironed for her, and put it on. Lori then moved to sit by her vanity and frowned. She had never done her own hair before, and now with the bonnet covering her braided hair, the lack of experience had come back to bite her in the ass. From what she had observed in Willow doing her hair, her long, voluminous afro was no easy feat when it came to styling.

What if I just woke Willow up to help with my hair, then immediately after, she goes back to sleep? That would not be cruel would it?

Her pondering of her dilemma was interrupted by a knock on the door. Confused, Lori checked the time again, 06:30. Could the girls already be awake? She stood up from the stool and cautiously made her way to the door. The knock sounded again, right as her hand had touched the handle. Finally she opened, and on the other side was the last person she had expected to see.

"Sami? What are you going here so early?" she asked him. As nice as he was, and as much as she planned to utilise him if things went south, Lori was still guarded when faced with all the members of the Bloodline. After all, who was to say it wasn't an act?

He stook tall in her doorway with a boyish grin. He sported a black Nike t-shirt and sweats with sneakers to complete the ensemble. "Good morning Lori! Tribal Chief said I should swing by and check if you're ready," he explained cheerfully. His grin however faltered when he took note of the bonnet.

"What?" Lori said, noticing the change in expression. Sami grimaced in response and gestured for her to let him in. Hesitantly, Lori stepped to the side only for Sami to usher her back to the vanity. "Sami what is the meaning of this?" she demanded only for Sami to gently push her into the chair and smile at her through the mirror.

"You don't know how to do your hair do you?" he asked slyly, causing her eyebrows to furrow in confusion.

"How did you know?" she questioned, wondering what had given her ineptitude away.

"Educated guess," Sami shrugged as his hand hovered over her bonnet. "May I?" he asked, earning a nod from Lori which prompted him to remove it, revealing her hair. "Wow," Sami gasped as he felt the soft texture of her hair.

"What's wrong?" Lori asked in concern, not sure how to take Sam's reaction to her hair.

"Nothing, it's just-I've seen healthy, beautiful long hair before but this? God, your mom must love you," Sami said, still in awe of the sight before him.

Lori just wore a wry smile at the last comment. While she was sure that Sami meant no harm as he was unaware of her relationship with her family, he still struck a nerve. When speaking of her connection with her mother, Sami wasn't asking, but Lori had been for the longest time. And by the looks of it, she would never get an answer.

"Actually, Willow is the mastermind. Before that it was her mother. The two of them have been so kind to my hair in the way they have taken care of it. In fact, I would probably have cut it all off had it not been for them," Lori explained, notes of gratitude in the way she spoke. Willow and Mrs Graham had been taking care of her hair and keeping it healthy since she was born. They were the real heroes.

"Either way, they are hair goddesses," Sami chuckled as he began to braid Lori's hair.

That's when it dawned on her. "You know how to do hair?" she questioned, eyeing Sami suspiciously as his red locks were out and untamed.

"Yup, an old friend taught me," he replied, not seeing the way she looked at him.

"And where is she now?" Lori asked curiously as Sami kept unbraiding and gently detangling.

Sami glanced at her through the mirror, eyes gleaming with a hint of sorrow. "She-uh, got married," he said before clearing his throat. He was then quick to change the subject to how he barely saw the point in styling his anymore since the island's climate was never kind to it. Lori zoned out as he rambled on and on, watching as he carefully brushed and styled her hair into a simple low ponytail with a puff at the bottom, completing the look with sleek baby hairs.

A white man can do my hair better than me? I need to up my game.

Despite the huge favour he had done for her, Lori still couldn't help but be unconvinced. Apart from him, she had met two direct members of the Bloodline, and both of them have proven to be...unappealing for lack of better words. Why would she trust that Sami hadn't had the same ideals indoctrinated in him. After all, as much as he was "an outsider", he had still been there longer than her. And since he did not offer the family prospects of wealth as far as she understood, there had to be another, more sinister reason to keep him around. If only she had thought of this on the plane yesterday.

"Sami, why are you helping me?" Lori asked, her trust issues suddenly flaring up.

"Because you're cool, duh," he replied as if it were obvious.

"Cool?" Lori questioned, unsure what he implied with the term. Her father had always considered that kind of language to be juvenile and forbid it around the house, however Lori had heard it time and again at her old University and during the two years when Lord Byron had allowed her to go to a private high school to graduate instead of finishing with a home school education. Still though, she was not very familiar with the context of the word.

"Y'know, good, nice. Cool," he simply said. Although he was not clear, Lori understood just fine.

"Oh okay. Lovely." If Sami was acting, he sure was doing an amazing job at it. Either way, her oncoming talk with the Tribal Chief would determine whether or not it mattered.

➽──────────────❥

"The Tribal Chief requested that I escort you to his office."

Tribal Chief Roman's office was cold...fitting the stories she had been told of the man who inhabited it. Perhaps it was the intense air conditioning, or maybe it was the lack of a personal touch to it's decor. Either way, apart from the spread out red and black furniture pieces, it was rather dull. Lori doubted he cared to much about the aesthetics anyway.

She had been seated on the black couch situated next to the door, about 5 feet away from his desk where he sat, nose buried in his work. Her eyes followed the clock's hands as time slowly ticked by, foreshadowing her slow and agonising ego death, should she choose to stay here. It had been 3p minutes and the man hadn't said a thing aside from "Have a seat." Part of her felt like there was an angle he was playing at here. A psychological one that she couldn't quite point out. Perhaps he was asserting dominance by making her wait on his time. If that was the case, then the one he had hoped to present would not hold up too well.

Her eyes scanned the bookshelf to her left. The names on the spines of each book caught her by surprise. While some of the books were typical of what was seemingly his nature, such as The Art of War, the others were unbecoming of what she had noted about him so far. Romance novels.

The rest of the titles were in Samoan and Italian, two languages Lori had not an inkling of an idea about. Still though, the very idea that Roman likely not only spoke these languages, but also read them was somewhat attractive. An observation she mentally chastised herself from. The very reason she had let her sights roam around the office was to avoid settling her gaze on him. Lord knows how he would react to his cousin's fiancé staring at him.

Speaking of his cousins, before she slept, Lori had done everything in her power to cleanse her memory of her interaction with Jey yesterday. Better to pretend it never happened than to let it hold power over her. Her logic was faulty, but it worked. But that did not by any means imply that she would be thrilled about being in the same room as him. The last thing Lori wanted was to be executed for murdering her fiancé. Regardless of how satisfying it would be.

"I take it you slept well?" she suddenly heard Tribal Chief Roman say.

Keeping her gaze on the window behind him, she nodded. The room was ugly but the bed was comfortable. "Yes, my Tribal Chief."

"Good. As a future member of this family it is only fitting that the best is what you are offered," he said, causing her to scoff. His gaze narrowed at the action. "Why do you want to leave?" he asked her, tone completely neutral.

"I was quite clear about my feelings yesterday, my Tribal Chief. I do not appreciate being treated like a street urchin by your family," Lori responded coldly.

Tribal Chief Roman placed his forearms on his desk to lean forward. "What did he say to you?" he asked. His voice had dropped to a dangerously low octave that struck a feeling that Lori was not familiar with in her chest. It was a mix of two feelings really; fear that was all but expected, but more surprisingly, yet minimal, lust.

"Things I would rather not repeat," she said.

"Because you're afraid?" he questioned with an arched eyebrow.

"Because I am a lady who refuses to compromise herself by spewing anything unbecoming of me," she retorted with a scoff. Yes, Tribal Chief Roman himself was terrifying, but that was not a sentiment she held towards Jey.

He leaned back into his chair, firm gaze remaining on her. "Whatever it is that he said, does not reflect our views of you. He will be corrected-"

"You mean punished," she commented, cutting into his sentence. She noticed his jaw clench at her interuption and swore she choked on her breath.

"And I will make sure, that nobody else treats you like that again," he finished, patience waning with each word.

"Why go out of your way instead of allowing me to go home?" she questioned, knowing the answer but still wanting him to completely clear up his intentions.

"You said it yourself yesterday. You know why this engagement was arranged; political gain for my family in return of financial gain for yours," he explained with a shrug.

Lori slowly nodded, the sound of the clock ticking re-invading her ears. "Where is he?" she asked. She wasn't sure why she was curious, but she was.

"His house not too far from here. Sami neglected to tell you that you two will not be living together until after your wedding," he explained, causing Lori's eyebrows to shoot to the edge of her hairline.

"How come?"

"Tradition," he stated vaguely. "Some things I have no control over, although something tells me you don't mind," he said, subtly pointing out her already existing grievance with his cousin.

"Do you have control over how often we are to interact?" she asked half-jokingly.

"Don't push it," he responded in a tone similar to hers. "I would advise you not to worry too much about the personal aspects of your engagement. The moment you two are married, you can get your own place nearby and only have to interact during public appearances," he said, tone reverting back to serious.

She fought the urge to ask if that was his arrangement with his wife a she had not seen her yet. Unless of course the divorce rumor was true.

"Until then, I am to stay here with you and Sami?" she inquired.

"Are you comfortable with Sami's presence?" he asked. His omission of her comfort with his own presence did not slide past her though. But she would let it seem as if it had.

"Yes. He is good company," she acknowledged.

"Then he will stay here as well. Anything else?" he asked. An answer immediately came into mind.

"Yes, actually. Could one of your staff perhaps get an interior decorator on the phone?" she requested, taking him aback.

"I do not like how my room looks," she specified, putting him at ease.

"I'll have it arranged as soon as possible. Is that all?"

She nodded wordlessly.

"Good. I'm assuming Sami informed you about today's agenda if you stayed?" Lori shook her head 'no' in response as her features festered into a look of curiosity. Sami must have thought that there was no way in all seven variations of hell she was staying there. Never say never, they say. Tribal Chief Roman ran his hand down his face and sighed, attempting to quell his frustration at Sami omitting this information.

"Today is your welcoming ceremony. The day when you're being introduced to the entire family and our ancestors as Jey's future bride and as a future princess to the people," Roman explained.

Lori's stomach twisted into knots. If there was anything she hated nearly as much as being blindsided to marriage, it was large gatherings and parties. All of those eyes on her, perceiving her always sent her into a spiral. If the very people that conceived her saw her as inadequate, who was to say that these people who did not know her from a table spoon harboured similar sentiments. Not to mention the whispers of gossip that she found mind numbing. A fact that would be hypocritical if Lori herself was a gossip.

She preferred self-preserving journalist anyway.

Nevertheless, she had chosen to stay and become a part of this bloodline that many considered to be of high esteem. Lori had chosen to become Tribal Princess Loreal. No longer Miss Loreal Moore. She would finally be rid of the last tie to her wretched father. If anything, that just sweetens the deal. This ceremony was just the starting point, one she would overcome with poise and grace.

"Is there a specific dress code, my Tribal Chief?"

[artist-x-j-roman-cain]

Joker’s Wild

My name is super-unknown so I will shoot for the dome Aim through the window pane; leave two frames blown I am not Strange. But I will not change tones Proclaim Roman Reigns in any home Entertain through tomes Enter veins then splinter brains Highest on this sinner plane Center plain or inner sane? No. A soul so cold not even So Co Could help warm; dealt thorns Some have sworn tales, yelling “He’s loco!” “Si y yo soy el lobo feroz” Ferocious flows; ojos rojo Toke and choke on top rank dodo Coca blows? Mi es cabron? Oh no! Blow Coca? Por dinero? Best go hoe! Yo soy Joe Schmoe? Asi-asi? Si puto derecho! Direct foes, “vete a la mierda, conos”! Artista X es el Rey de todos los Reyes Sooth-sayer and smooth player Granuja de platas de lengua Ladies spreading legs, begging me to say yes. Weigh less than many but don’t call me mini Not one to waste pennies Immobile blades, not choppin’ on 20’s Mobile stays paid; minutes got plenty No cash in the bank; gas tank close to empty Yet more retail sells in smells than Scentsy My girl is a fine dime that OG’s envy Eyes green, hairs red plus always wet and sticky Ever leaving; burning and hitting like a heathen But she keeps returning Even after pimping her out for earnings Yearning for touch; by lips or finger tips She’ll learn you quick; bi so no bias when she unzips She flips all day but still chills at night Herb Knight in hempen armor Helping get over bored again Charming prints, used to disarm alarms Prince Charmin to soft; armaments’ armed Minced off the first cut; rinsed off like shit stuck to shoes In truth, I like going overboard and harming Like Carmen, no one knows where to find me Moving timely; double check nobody’s behind me Grinding to shine even when it isn’t Vision remastered after seeing how biz went? To guzzle gents jizz for cents Rather stick a muzzle in my mouth Than ever be asked where my fizz went Dissident miscreant because of medicinal Treants Gorgon like stoning; after all spinach is full of nutrients Beautifully bent; fine line between genius and insanity Underhandedly taking the lead; never mistakenly Make me your nemesis; own worst enemy to y’all I am limitless Illogically break chronological fate with paradoxical Genisys Forget Quicksilver; Wells wished in inventing this Luxury Mercury? Have H.G. mad as a hatter for penning this In lieu of Carrol; songs full of apparel Only autos should be tuned Putting hair pulling bitches on alert Better be careful Have them pissing; scared to twist up fisticuffs Baring tools; afraid to get face to face But I’m very cool; only thing up my sleeve is an Ace Thumping with my trump; then use the same spade to bury fools Joker’s wild; and I’ve been told the same Smoker’s smile plus a laugh cold and insane Broken stiles; never hold a flame to gain change Opening Styles all about showing up the Game At the Helm with a death wish like I’m hunting a hearse DRAC is the realm’s realest; still instilling hurts Curt versus legends or virgins; using perverse verses to abuse With no aversion to cursing this rough draft also the final version Shaft tough? Yes, when driven by me Not black enough to say I’m the bad-dest “shut your mouth…”, you see Keep it juicy; not goosing Lucy Truthfully I’m a prick spelt with a capital D Biggest you’ll meet; and above average in meat No need for lies; I know I satisfy Don’t believe me honey then come and see Relieve your cunny, have you cum a sea Endless returns like it’s my company Charge your Chakra; currently cum for free Currency for free milk? Then you can go ahead and get stepping permanently Ash into your urn Every sentence further sentencing eternity Hurting disconcertingly Adverting attacks; not possible when concerning me Genuine article Smashing particles like the Hadron at CERN discerning Emcees Splitting atoms While batting back at’em; scat’em like a cat. Kill every vermin I see Shivering cowards While stylishly delivering streets sermons for fees River of power That is, a strong flow with undertow current; currently Amped up Have them clammed shut; in bomb shelters like the emergency Is national But it’s natural to run urgently when faced by the beast from the murky deep Heard of me? Or been hurt by me? Try me when unworthy and meet A brief defeat By these feet. So take a seat or be beat down vertically Post mortem surgery Quicker to dig six one by ones; bury you very dirtily Curtly asserting Your curtains but far from my encore that’s a certainty Unmercifully Murdering psyches with words alone. Spurring the weak To purr back meek Lying while trying this Lion; King of Zion. Tired of burping these Babies and toddlers Going crazy searching for grown talent; licking talons and fangs thirstily Unnerving these Kids; knowing their lids will get peeled. Villain killing purposely Have curs cursing me Speaking cursively, curbing cohorts. Quit if your nursing teats Hyperbole Not when measured in pen; sink non-thinkers with ink poisoning Vent venom vehemently; little girls and boys playing with alloys Should quit banging noise My thoughts and voice concise Eyes on the prize; ions spliced off and thrown at my enemy’s head Radically rendering your ending; lending the term walking dead Stocking meds by the O-z From North of the O.C. Only importing the best, from Valleys’ in Cali to Co-towns alley’s G-13 and Maui Wowie The Doctor’s in Get re-T.A.R.D.I.S.; needing starting? Got Diesel too if you need to rally Tally the score Weighed straight, bud and not shake with proper tear drops; plus, I don’t dilly dally True wild card; evolved in being involved in anything called sin My balls’ in court never Alcohol in blood no more; instead soar above but feet still on the floor Claws in the ground This is my town. Come down sounding hard and I will leave you scarred With the loss of your crown Scalpel scalping. And if the laws in the Mudd come around? Still won’t be found. Proper noun; capital Artist using absurdly sharp wit for getting capital Known for ripping sharks to bits Sparks will arc; marked by X then know next your neck Will be stretched regardless Of your guards. I'll march right through your gardens. Embrace mayday Because by melee I have been hardened Leave them marveling at my carvings which cause starving Hungry but not eating beef; these freaking vegans are retarded Believe it’s better to give than receive Seas get wetter from here; forever in gear Achieving whatever I can perceive Seize vets ahead of my years; too clever for peers Deceiving none, yet some sectors still don’t bet on me Sieges settled in letters; vendettas never feared Easing at leisure; proceeding on with no etcetera Seasons become bygone; seasoning legions of chickens so long live Cain, King of Weird Erecting a dynasty Weapon selection is free form daggers called forth from the Nether Injecting arsenic Martial arsenal; impartial to arson. Coolly pulling the lever Irreverent to me Intellectual elephant and elegantly eloquent. Resisting transistors Close circuit Verdict shows consequences for the inoffensive; tethered to weather through endeavors On attack like a shredder Chipper sure as this plot runs redder Splendor found in splinters Cheddar made grating big cheeses Donning black and green Stripping clubs; beating pussies together Surrendering before being engulfed in embers Hand over your tender or be berated by Poetry, mixed with soul of the street Wholly complete when competing against the elite Never miss a beat; a capella teller Fellas that think they can swell up; one hell of whale tail Shelling out pain on the jealous Overzealous never. Well prepared with an umbrella Real life, not a telenovela Jotting rotten embellishments; relishing propellers developing yellows Punks pissing themselves when warships need worshipping Blood, sweat and oil mix Until the ill contents become flammable And all the malcontents Bow out; knowing good and well I’ll damn a fool Or a damsel If you think you can lay hands on me; your delusions are fanciful Panty puller Revealing fraudulent broads; inflict wounds that will require some gauze from the gods At odds with society Believe working a desk is a probity And I’m a writer Some consider a prodigy My odyssey cementing my property Foundation laid in Don't play pretend; make fake men Or women Shed their linens. Hollering no apologies; now follow me Make a joke out of any lesser F-5 force like Lesnar. Why so serious? Uncrowned underground jester Bound to pound the pavement With your cranium; straining some with that statement One truth inevitable Julian sliced in way that was absolutely unforgettable Unintelligible Little bulls should quit being foolish before getting whipped cool and made edible Cannibal but not named Hannibal Mechanically distributing electrically compressed waves To enslave your ladies Into behaving like a cowgirl; riding this bull and craving these testicles Undressing tools Cunning tongue; expelling fantasies for sensational pull Lessons blessing illiterate fools Honeys’ dribbling from touch so much they create literal pools In Sin City I rule Will not pity the drooling class; passionately fashioning Jewels Fastening dull blades To this mental lathe to gain edge; allegedly dredging up the typical Satirical lyrics searing spirits Phantom fandoms abandoning idols idling when I crash tidally Spiritually binding Ritual sacrifice; decisively knifing as if practiced on the habitual Basis. Run races never. Pace to slow. Basics way below. Spacing pros with tasteful prose Also slaying joes Embracing complacency only stagnates; changing notes lead to growth Flaying bros even Must stay on toes or fade; daily dough made by not taking a doze I only dose With Mary. Quite contrary to hoes bickering about which nose I’ll be sniffed through Some into inducing rushes via sphincter Keep your stinker away Couldn’t be helped with a bleaching tincture Suffering puncturing For lunch bringing nothing but punch and knuckle sandwiches Damn bitches. My hands twitching, itching to do ditch digging for snitches with no steel brandished Have no advantages Loose leaf my canvases. Not afraid to get scandalous; know y’all cannot handle this Gargantuan tarantulas Manhandled like tea candles as I dismantle men easier than destroying a mandolin Banding in Only amplifies the likelihood of meeting a random end Ranting and rambling Gambling when I'm done that you won't be able to keep ambling Knock you out in your sandals when my spit hits like an Ambien Watch me trample them; sampled but never sampling Entranced with sin Dancing in and out after romance ends Lancing them then off to the stands again Slanted bantering Can offend but also bend inhibitions; renditions of wishful visions and being the one granting them Dammed if dim Stranded in damages; can't get cantering, this Cancer managing Standards that can spin Rabidly rapid; static shock and awe. Addict not dropping off. Elaborate pens Radically pin backstabbing bastards; infinitely outlasting Simultaneously lashing Latching on with a firm grasp. Grabbing and toe tagging then afterward bagging them Meet my jagged friend Egging on until calm is Gone with the Wind On to win That is, magic tactics Exacting backward grins as in upside-down frowns Should I explain that again Batting bad men with a racquet like it’s badminton The raconteur bracket designed for the rhymer in his prime; letterman jacket Personally fitted Custom colors; clique unaffiliated but true Paid dues for these suede shoes Ensue wrath, crossing paths with me. Be phased through. Displace you Vibrate at a rate that frequently frequencies disintegration Blazing you with phazers set to stun Yep son, better run because here I come to erase you Each and every angle will be tangled with Break both ankles Then add in the mad tendency to strangle Take your Angel and go Jangle out the last bit of blood. Lots of love for being painful. But just be thankful Only got your bank; sank like the Titanic. Hitting like an ice cold tank; you're a lukewarm row boat frozen exposing you're shameful Wordsmith, perfectly working an anvil Not a man to steal; but guarantee I can and will Drop your body in a landfill Stop talking, get to walking; gawking awkwardly At the oddity who stands steel Resolute in Will; if looks could kill Mine would; shooting villain’s long as I am still in Adrenaline pumping; dumping loads of shit. Here’s the damn deal Entrepreneur Grade A manure; never has there been a truer Entrees pure Bade losers farewell; after a push down the stairwell Never been surer Any assurances weren’t accounting for me and my allure Got your cure For being average; lock you in a fridge and drop you off a bridge. Got the top rung secure And I haven’t been on tour Demure nature? No. Bigger ego than Troy McClure Stopping simpletons, pop them like pimples Catching them in the temple; listen as the song of a fat minstrel ends Stenciling by pencil Lengthy dismissal brought about by drizzling In a million missiles These difficult insults leave individuals’ pissed; the gist is: their coined phrases aren’t worth a single nickel Series: X Sin-to-Mint Artist: Artist X (Justin Roman Cain)

[sillyteecup]

Nothing is fair in love and war

Roman Reigns x black!o.c

Warnings:

18+

Strong language

Mentioned violence

Angst

A.N: Soooo this based on a post I saw by @msbigredmachine talking about how no one came out to help our boy Roman because of how much of a menace he's been since 2020. I also happened to be listening to Careless by FKA twigs and Daniel Caesar while writing this. Anyway, thank you for reading. Enjoy❤️

Raised in a Christian Household, Leti and her family would always start the day with the Lord's prayer, and then again in the mornings at school with her classmates and teachers, and then again before the end of the day with the same classmates and teachers, and then again at the 7 pm Bible study she would go to to satisfy her mother. She knew "Our Father," word for word and bar for bar. It was etched into her brain, and had become a core memory she would never be rid of.

Her mother would be thrilled to learn that at least that part of her religious teachings survived.

The thing about Leti's relationship is with Our Father was that as she had grown older, life had pushed her into a direction where she found herself agreeing less and less with the prayer. Every proclamation slowly began to contradict her thoughts and opinions. Her character gradually morphed into one that opposed the prayer almost entirely. One line however, stood out the most to Leti.

"And forgive us for our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us," was a proclamation that never resonated with her. Her father knew that. Her mother knew that. Her old friends at school knew that. Sami Zayn knew that. And now Roman was about to find out that forgiveness was not in her lexicon.

The man in question had been pacing in frustration, chugging down a bottle of water to cool his high temperature. It was his third night back on Smackdown and he had already been jumped by Solo and his little merryband of evildoers, or the Bloodline as they refer themselves to. As much as Leti held no current respect for Roman, she still held the sentiment that Solo and Solettes were unworthy of the privilege of being a part of the Bloodline, let alone spear heading it. They didn't deserve the luxury of representing the family. Not after everything they had done to disregard everything Leti, Roman, and the twins had built while Solo mostly stood there like an overgrown cinderblock that got tossed around every now and again in every solo match. Still, with that very sentiment, Leti held not a single shred of sympathy for Roman. He got what he had deserved.

"You're just gonna sit there and say nothing?" he demanded gruffly, glaring at Leti who was sitting on the couch and scrolling through twitter. In a fashion true to her nature, she rolled her eyes and remained silent. She was no longer on his time and would speak when she felt like it.

"Leti, I'm talking to you," Roman said, irritation growing at the silence.

A silence that never wavered as Leti still refused to budge.

"Leleti Reigns-" Roman had begun to yell causing Leti to put her phone down.

"Norwood. Leleti Norwood," she corrected coldly, glaring daggers at him. The hurt in his eyes was gone as quickly as it had come, as it had been replaced with rage.

"So that's how you wanna act huh?" he asked, disbelief mixing into his low tone.

Leti clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. Roman never seemed to understand the concept of consequences. His brain always just zoomed into victim mode. It truly was a shame that she had even managed to be able to see past that flaw four whole years ago.

"You brought it onto yourself," she stated, hazel eyes narrowing to slits. It was about time someone finally humbled him from the little power trip he thought he was gonna be taking since he had been back.

Roman's jaw ticked at her words. The truth always dealt a brutal blow when you hated hearing it. "And I plan on fixing it," he told her as he began pacing again. This time he was likely plotting his game plan.

Leti's left eyebrow arched at the statement, "How? With a superman punch? Or will it be a spear?" she inquired. The venom in her tone did not go unnoticed by Roman.

"I don't know, but maybe if you made yourself useful instead of sitting over there and acting like a fucking child, I could come up with something feasible," Roman hissed as he stalked towards her.

Leti rolled her eyes at the man towering above her, not feeling intimidated in the slightest. She had become all too familiar with his little scare-tactics and had become impervious to them. "And why the hell would I want to do that?" she questioned evenly.

"Loyalty. Loyalty to the Bloodline; your loyalty to me-" he had begun to explain before being cut-off by a bitter chuckle from Leti.

"Surely it must be drugs or some shit because while my loyalties lie with the Bloodline, I have none left for you. Not after that cowardly shit you pulled at Mania," she said bitterly. Leti was observant. She knew Roman almost as well as she knew that prayer. The quick parting and closing of his lips and the flicker of his eyes from the ceiling to the ground as a means of hiding what could possibly be tears, meant that his facade was on the verge of shattering.

All the cracks from the twins betrayal, his loss at Mania, his cousins' betrayal of his legacy, Leti's change in demeanor since he had returned, his cousins using his own numbers game against him, and now this very moment, had finally caught up to him

"It hurts doesn't it?" Leti asked, features fixed in anger. "Being alone? That shit stings no?"

Roman's jaw ticked again as he licked his lips, eyes still everywhere but on hers.

Leti rose from her place on the couch and proceeded to glare right into Roman's skull. Despite the glaring height difference, her gaze still burned through his mind.

"You don't get to run away for four whole fucking months then come back and expect everybody to treat you like some martyr for cleaning up the mess that you fucking made. Just because the fans are buying into it, doesn't mean I or anybody in this damn locker room is, " Leti snarled as she poked him in the chest with the long nail on her index finger.

"This isn't some fucking fairytale or superhero movie where you're suddenly absolved from your bullshit because you're 'doing the work'! This is real life, and in real life, there are consequences. And you haven't even cracked the tip of the iceberg," she said, chuckling at the last statement.

With a quick exhale, she bent to grab her phone and quickly moved to leave the dressing room. Right as she turned though, she felt a calloused hand grab her bicep, stopping her from leaving. The familiar feel of his palm sent her into an emotional frenzy on it's own with all the memories it brought back. The pleasure they once held, was now replaced with pain.

"Don't turn your back on me. Please," she heard him plead softly. Her snapped to face him. His eyes held nothing but remorse for his actions, and fear that he was about to lose her on top of everything else he had lost. Unfortunately for him, he was four months too late.

"Or what? You'll leave again? Run away like a little bitch after a loss so you can sip margaritas and fuck all kinds of bitches on rotation at some private resort on a cute little island? Huh? Not call or text to let me know you're okay or at least fucking alive while everything goes to shit? Answer me Roman! Fucking answer me!" she had begun to yell, having yanked her arm from his grip. He remained quiet, lips pursuing into a thin line as he understood that anything he could say now would only add to her rightful anger.

"You gonna leave me here to watch Jimmy and Paul get decimated huh? You gonna leave me here to get powerbombed through a table by Solo and his fucking goons all because I stayed loyal to you, huh? Loyal even after you abandoned us! Abandoned me! The woman you claimed to love, the only fuckin person that stuck by you through everything Roman!" she cried, shoving him with every statement.

Roman however did not fight back. At least he knew he deserved it. He closed his eyes to try and fight back tears while he took deep breaths to stop himself from breaking down right there and then. The truth always dealt a brutal blow, but Leti knew how to make that shit cut into one's flesh.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in an attempt to control his voice.

Leti's features morphed into an expression of pure hatred. "That's too fucking bad, because you're four months late," she hissed. With one last glare, she turned to leave. This time Roman allowed her to storm out of his dressing room for what he knew would be the last time.

Out of the many things he had come to learn about Leleti, one of his favourite things was that forgiveness just wasn't a part of her lexicon.

If only he had known that there were no exceptions to the rule.

[sillyteecup]

The Wrong Way: Series List

Roman Reigns x black!o.c

Jey Uso x black!o.c

Summary:

Promised to the Tribal Prince, Jey Uso, Loreal navigates her engagement to the serial womanizer and all around playboy with the utmost reluctance, silently praying for tragedy to befall her or her obnoxious fiancé before their wedding day.

But why can't she stop thinking about his cousin Roman, the Tribal Chief? And why does he keep staring at her whenever they're in the same room?

Could it be that there's something bigger awaiting the two of them?

Warnings:

18+

Strong language

Mature themes such as sexual assault

Mentions of alcohol and drug use

Suggestive content

Actual smut

Power imbalances

Violence

Chapters:

CH.1

CH.2

Please let me know if you wanna be on the taglist❤️

CH.3

CH.4

[sillyteecup]

The Wrong Way

Roman Reigns x black!o.c

Jey Uso x black!o.c

Chapter 3

Warnings:

18+

Strong language

Slut shaming

Taglist: @wrestlingprincess80 @nbanenefrmdao @vebner37 @theninthwonder @tshepisho @lensilver @trentybenty @empressdede @queen-shadow22 @becauseimher @jstarr86

A.N: I would like to apologize to anyone who was expecting Main event Jey Uso. No pookies, this is 2021 Jey, or as I like to call him, "crashout Jey"🤭. Anyway, a delightful bunch our characters are yes? I honestly can't wait to get them to fully interact so we can see where this shit storm is going😭😭. Anyway here's chapter 3 of The Wrong Way. I hope you like it. Enjoy.❤️

The journey to Lori's new pris-home was long and silent. The Wiseman had arranged for her and her maidens to be seated in their own section of the jet with Sami for supervision. He said it was by the order of the Tribal Chief, which was a pleasant surprise to Loreal. However she still wasn't sold on the family.

Her maidens however were elated. Although they had not directly interacted with or even seen the Bloodline outside of Sami and the Wiseman, the closeness in proximity to the family was enough to spike their excitement levels. That paired with the opportunity to fly private with their Mistress. Previously When Lori and her family traveled, Lord Byron would have the Maidens fly commercial and in separate seats. No one understood why, and when Lori would protest he would be dismissive. So naturally, their current arrangement brought them joy.

While the maidens drank cocktails and shared hushed theories of how the palace would look, Lori sat opposite Sami in silence. His jaw often twitched as though he wanted to say something to her, but he never did. While he was slightly more relaxed away from the Tribal Chief, he was still on edge. Fidgeting with his rings and shifting relentlessly in his seat. All of the sudden movement was starting to annoy Lori.

"Sir-" she began, only to be interrupted by Sami.

"Sami. Just, Sami is fine, Miss Loreal," he said nervously with his hand up.

"That doesn't seem very inappropriate," Lori pointed out with an arched eyebrow.

"Well, Sir isn't exactly my title so calling me by name is as appropriate as it gets," Sami explained with a shrug.

Lori tilted her head as a look of confusion washed upon her features. "You are part of the most powerful family in the world, and you do not have a title?" she inquired.

Sami nodded before replying, "Well yes. But also no," he said vaguely.

"I don't follow," Lori said, folding her hands over her lap.

"I am a part of the Bloodline don't get me wrong. But I wasn't born into it, therefore no title. Well, unless you take, 'Honorary Uce' into account, but otherwise no title. Just good ole' Sami," Sami rambled, finishing his explanation with a nervous chuckle.

"Ah, I see. Honorary Uce Sami is quite the mouthful, but so is Miss Loreal. So you will call me Lori," Lori said jokingly to try and ease Sami's nerves.

"Lori," he sounded out slowly, as if testing it on his tongue. "I could work with that. Just not around the Tribal Chief," he added, his anxiety seeming to spike at the thought of Tribal Chief Roman.

"I'm sure he would not mind. At least until after the wedding," Lori shrugged, but Sami shook his head.

"Oh he would. He's very big on the title thing. Says it has to do with showing respect and humility," Sami explained.

"I don't think he'd care too much about showing me respect, I am after all an outsider. On top of that I am damaged. No one respects a damaged woman. They only seek to humble her," Lori said dryly, earning a soft small from Sami.

"I respect you, Lori," Sami said softly.

Lori's eyes softened. "Sami, while I appreciate the sentiment, you do not know me. You have no reason to respect me."

"Actually, I do have a reason. A couple actually," Sami stated, confidence slowly oozing into his tone making Lori smirk playfully.

"And praytell Sami, what are they?" she asked him.

Lori's smile grew at Sami's grin. His posture had slowly started to relax throught their conversation, and judging form his demeanor, he seemed very friendly. A stark difference from the family that took him in.

"Well, you're head strong, you're confident and you're kind. Well, at least kind to me and your maidens," Sami listed, counting his points with his fingers.

In a weird way, Sami reminded Lori of her mother. Although Azalea and her daughter hardly spoke, whenever they did, Lady Azalea always made sure to encourage and reassure Loreal. Lady Azalea would tell her that she was beautiful, intelligent, confident and kind. She would also remind Loreal not to let anyone take advantage of her kindness. Thus, her hot headed nature and occasionally cold demeanor.

"Thank you Sami. It might not mean much, but you have my respect as well," Lori replied softly.

She could've sworn she had just seen a tear roll down her new asset's eye.   

➽──────────────❥

Roman exited the jet, followed by his cousins. His hands rubbed at his temples as a headache had begun to set in from Jey's incessant complaining, paired with Jimmy's snarky rebuttals. He already tried his hardest to limit his time with the twins due to the constant bickering, always preferring Solo's quiet company above them. But if there was one thing he loathed, it was traveling with the twins because that meant he had to listen to every grating word.

Alas, however, the trip was over and he could finally get rid of them.

"It just feels so fucking disrespectful, you know? Of all the bitches yall could've picked, it had to be the one that's been around every street across the seas! I'm a prince man! I deserve better!" Jey complained for what was probably the 90th time since they had left the Moore house.

Roman had taken it with silence as he, to some extent understood his cousin's frustration. He knew that Jey felt undermined by the choice for his fiancé, and that he felt like a second-class citizen. However, Roman was not the one who chose Miss Loreal Moore, Rikishi, Jey's father was. And the last thing Roman wanted to do was involve himself in the affairs of a father and his son. Even if it was simply a power move.

Also, aside from her unfortunate status, Miss Loreal Moore was actually a good pick. Lord Byron held quite a lot of political influence across the seas and according to the file Lord Byron had sent to Paul, she was highly intelligent, she had a leadership streak, and she was incredibly ambitious. All of that was enough of a sell as it was, but it was at the meeting where she truly caught Roman's attention. Her defiance, to Roman, was a sign of strength.

Roman liked strong women.

Miss Loreal Moore was not a pushover, and that was a quality that she would need most in being part of and dealing with his family.

However, most of all, she was astoundingly beautiful.

Roman had hardly found himself in positions where he was taken by a woman's appearance. Apart from Nadine, he barely even noticed the women around him, but Loreal was a different story. Her piercing brown eyes, her glossy, plump, two-toned lips, her the stud on the left side of her wide nose and her deep, brown skin that seemed to glimmer in any atmosphere. That, paired with her breathtakingly curvy figure made it a mission for Roman not to stare at Miss Loreal Moore throught the meeting.

Miss Loreal Moore was going to be his cousin's wife in about a month. His thoughts on her looks were then thrown to the back his mind. They did not matter.

"I know you not talking, Mr 'I fuck every bitch that breathes in my direction'," Jimmy commented from his brother's side.

"Man, this is not the fucking time to be joking and shit! This is my fucking life we're talking about and I'm supposed to spend the rest of it with a ho?" Jey hissed, making Roman's temper flare up.

Clearly Jey was struggling to understand that this wasn't about him anymore. That this was a sacrifice he had to make for the family to prosper and maintain their power. Roman only hoped that Jey wouldn't fuck the engagement up, otherwise he would have to punish his cousin, and the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt the man he considered his right hand man.

Jimmy waved him off before saying, "Man I don't see no difference. You a ho, she a ho-hell yall are perfect for each other if you ask me," Jimmy snickered.

"Well then it's a good thing nobody fucking asked you."

"Enough!" Roman grunted, immediately shutting his cousins up. He could've sworn he saw Solo's lips twitch into a grateful smile. But it was gone as soon as it appeared. Jimmy pressed his lips together in a thin line while Jey downright scowled. Roman sensed that his cousin had long passed the stage of dissatisfaction. He was angry, but he knew not to direct it at the wrong person.

"I understand. I understand that you don't like the fact that you're marrying a damaged woman. But you had your opportunity to choose a good woman for yourself," Roman started as he began to get in Jey's face.

"You had the chance to get you a fresh one, but you fucked up by deciding to fuck around with every whore that smiled at you. So if you wanna complain about the quality of woman your father found you, take that shit up with him, but never forget the chance you had to prevent that shit," Roman stated as he poked Jey in the chest to emphasize his point.

He then leaned in to whisper in his cousin's ear, "It's not about you anymore Uce. Get that through your thick fucking skull! This is about our family! This is about what's best for all of us," his tone was menacing as he reminded his cousin of the situation.

He stepped back to see Jey still scowling, but nodding in understanding. That was good. All Roman needed was for him to understand.

"You can still do your shit on the side, I'm sure she won't give a fuck anyway," Roman suggested. His short encounter with Miss Loreal Moore, although short, showed him that the regard she would show for his cousin was low.

As much as Jey knew about her reputation, Roman theorized she likely did not care in the slightest as she barely wanted to marry him in the first place. The only thing Roman worried about was her willingness to actually be a part of his family. That was a huge factor to take into consideration. One Roman would do everything in his power to sway in his favour.

"Yo Uce, your ho may be a ho, but she a mighty fine ho for sure," Jimmy said with a snicker.

Roman's eyes snapped to the open jet that had just landed. There she was, gracefully making her way down the stairs, wearing what seemed like her usual, disinterested, yet mildly irritated expression. Right behind her were her four servants, or maidens as her father had called them. The young women, each with eager smiles on their faces made their way down with their mistress's luggage and their own. Finally Sami stepped out holding another one of her bags. A gesture she rewarded with a kind smile that shocked Roman.

And angered him.

Roman watched in an unexplainable annoyance as Miss Loreal Moore conversated with Sami as she and her travel party made their way to him and his cousins. While the sight of her laughing at his jokes seemed to piss him off, the sound of her laughter did something to him. Something akin to casting an enchantment. However, it was washed away as soon as it was chanted. This was not the time.

"Miss Loreal Moore, I should hope that your flight was comfortable," Paul said as she approached.

Her happy expression quickly turned neutral, as if she had just remembered her situation all over again.

"It was. Thank you," she said curtly, her now scrutinizing gaze cutting through Roman's family and Paul in one clean swoop.

Paul, as though he had felt the slits of her irises like a blade to his skin, cleared his throat nervously before speaking again. "Well then, I'm sure the long journey has left you and your maidens in need of some rest. Tomorrow will be quite the long day," Paul said with a nervous chuckle.

Miss Loreal Moore's features never wavered from the stony expression she wore. Roman could feel her sizing him and his cousins up. He almost smirked at how shamelessly she glared.

"I agree Wiseman. But I must ask, will my fiancé be accompanying me to the palace?" she questioned, finally shifting her gaze to him. The bitterness in her tone was subtle, but still noticeable to Roman's ear.

Paul looked taken aback, not expecting her question as she seemed to not want any part in their marriage. Then it clicked in Roman's mind, she didn't know that Jey wouldn't be staying at the palace during their engagement. He then shot a glare to Sami who he had told to clue her in on what would happen next. Sami shrunk beneath the sharp glare.

"Oh, Miss Loreal, that's not-traditional we don't-" Paul began to sputter, being cut off by Roman's low tone, but gentle.

"Is that what you want, Miss Loreal?" Roman asked, attempting to gauge her reasoning.

She shrugged in response, saying, "Well we are to be married. It would only make sense for us to acquaint ourselves with one another."

Roman nodded then flashed a charming smile. "Then that's gonna happen," he said.

The moment Paul and the women were out of ear shot, Roman's gaze morphed into a deadly glare. "If you fuck this up, there will be some very dire consequences," he warned in a cold, low tone.

"Wiseman, please lead Miss Loreal Moore and her ladies to the car. Jey will catch up in a second," Roman requested, turning to face an irritated Jey.

Jey nodded silently, prompting Roman to release him. Jey ran to catch up with Paul and the ladies, while Roman turned around and headed to his own car followed by Sami and his remaining cousins. He contemplated having a little 'talk' with Sami, but decided against it.

If Miss Loreal Moore trusted Sami, then Roman would use that to gain her trust as well.

[sillyteecup]

The Wrong Way

Roman Reigns x black!o.c,

Jey Uso x black!o.c

Chapter 1

Warnings:

18+

Taglist: @nbanenefrmdao @wrestlingprincess80 @lensilver

A.N: This is more of a Roman fic but because Lori has a number of interactions with Jey as a "couple" it felt right to add them as a pairing. Anyway, this is the first chapter of The Wrong Way, and I hope you like it. Please let me know if you wanna be a part of the taglist. Enjoy❤️

Power. One of the most sought after things in history. Countless of wars have been fought to obtain and maintain it, leaving pools of blood in their wake. Those on the outside have dreams of claiming it as their own, while those born into it cling to it for dear life.

Most of those born into it anyway. Loreal on the other hand loathed it. Loathed what it had done to her family and the hand it had in her upbringing. Her father's obsession with growing their family's power and influence had resulted in their household being a cold one, devoid of love and compassion, yet never teetering into hateful and abusive territory. Her family spoke to each other only out of necessity, and Lori preferred it that way.

Until of course, it was her that they needed to speak to.

That morning she had woken up to Minerva and Claudia standing at her bedside holding an extravagant looking black and silver silk gown, and a diamond headpiece, while Willow and Indiana waited by the windows, ready to open the curtains. Another marriage arrangement to likely, yet another deviant from across the seas was afoot. Unfortunately at the ripe age of 27, this was an expected and recurring event.

Maybe if I just died-

Usually before the meetings, Lori bathed and dressed in silence despite the ever looming company of her maidens. The chatter usually began after the other family had left, but this morning the young ladies assisting her were feeling particularly jovial much earlier than usual. Almost as if they were the ones being auctioned off to yet another power mongering clan. Another change was that they were actually putting more effort into her look than usual. A strange occurrence since they knew how much she hated these meetings and preferred the silence when they came around.

"I'm inclined to assume that this one is attractive or particularly wealthy," Lori said, piercing through the particularly light silence. Willow's grin spread even wider as she decorated her madam's hair with pearls.

"One hell of a looker, that's for sure," commented Claudia with a sly smirk while she applied Lori's makeup.

A curious frown painted Lori's face. A handsome suitor was nothing new in the last 3 years. In fact they were the more common breed, and yet her maidens had never expressed even the slightest positive reaction at them. Something must be different. This one must be famous.

"Tell me," she gently demanded. If there's one thing Lori knew, it's how her maidens loved a good gossip.

The young ladies began to giggle uncontrollably in excitement. Each of them sharing knowing looks before focusing back on Lori's expectant expression staring at them through the mirror of her vanity.

"Well ma'am, we aren't exactly sure who it is, but we are inclined to believe that he hails from the Bloodline," Minerva shared excitedly. At the revelation Lori flew into a state of contemplation.

A member of Bloodline? And they aren't sure which one?

Lori was pulled back from her thoughts by the speculative chatter happening around her. "My money is on Jimmy," Indiana guessed confidently. But Jimmy is already married...

"Wrong and loud is what you would be Indi because tribal prince Jimmy is already married to the lady-well, now princess Naomi," Minerva corrected, agreeing with Lori's silent reasoning.

Willow was next to bring forth her own guess. "Oh but what about tribal prince Solo? I believe him and ma'am would be perfect together, after all they are both quite standoffish," she said earning a playfully offended glare from Lori and boisterous laughs from the other ladies.

"I am not standoffish. I prefer strong and silent," said Lori, defending her character. Her maidens all chuckled at her reply, knowing all about her character.

"Okay, I know this might be far out but, what about The Tribal Chief himself?" Minerva guessed, earning weary looks from everyone in the room.

"Is he not married?" Willow asked. Not much was known about the Tribal Chief apart from whispers across the shores.

The only reason that Lori even shared the same curiosity as Willow is because her maidens were quite up to date with the latest gossip. As means of staying ahead of her father and his rather devious options for husbands, she encouraged the ladies to share the gossip with her. Something that had been working in her favour for 3 years now.

Minerva smirked mischievously before sharing what she had recenty heard. "Well, word across the shore is that The Tribal Chief and his wife are actually in the middle of a fallout of sorts. They're saying it might be a divorce," she said in a hushed tone, as somethings just couldn't be said out loud.

The rest of the maidens remained unconvinced however. Still keeping their speculations on the other members. Even Lori knew that her father's connections, although powerful, could never secure her a marriage with the Tribal Chief himself. And if she was being honest, she was grateful. The man had a reputation of ruling with an immovable iron fist, and dealing with insubordination in manners so ruthless that no one dared to speak of them in public.

He was also notoriously unapproachable and cold towards those outside of his family. Hell, no one even knew his real name. Perhaps that's why his marriage is falling apart...

"Perhaps it's-" Claudia's guess was interrupted by Lori's door opening abruptly. Lori turned to see who it was while her maidens bowed their heads in case it was a member of her family.

And they were right. Her mother stood in the doorway, wearing her own diamond headdress and dressed in a silk gown similar to Lori's, except hers was a deep violet. Her posture was straighter than a steel ruler as she waltzed into Lori's bedroom, likely to inspect her daughter's appearance and determine if she was presentable enough.

The maidens made way for Lady Azaelea to pass through while Lori stood up to face her mother. Her mother grinned, a sign that she was pleased at the work Lori's maidens had put in. "Magnificent indeed," was all Azalea said before holding her hand out for Lori to take.

The pair made their way out of Lori's bedroom, across the halls and downstairs to the foyer where 6 unfamiliar men stood with her father and some of the house staff. Lori observed the men discreetly, careful not to stare for too long.

The first to fall into her line of sight was an older and rather plump, tanned but white (likely Italian) man with a hairline that had receded far back to the nape of his neck. He wore a navy blue suit as opposed to the others who were adorned in black.

The second one was another white man, this one much paler. Are those girls sure that they heard right about this being the bloodline? The lower half his face was covered by a large, yet well groomed beard that matched the color of his slicked back red hair. He was taller than the first man and had a rather fearful yet excited gleam in his eye.

The next two were a set of twins. Both of their heads shaven on the sides to leave long curly hair out in the middle. One had half of silky curly hair dyed red, while the other one's hair was fully black. These men looked Samoan and confirmed the maiden's statement. They both stood tall with perfect posture, faces covered by salt and pepper beards. How old are they? Both of them with congruently shaped brown eyes, and identical facial structures. Literally the only difference she could spot at the time was their hair.

Next to them stood another Samoan man also with bone straight posture. This one was slightly bigger than the other too, both in height and in muscle. While he looked relatively different from the twins, Lori could see the resemblance in his eyes. There wasn't much time to look for more. His hair was shorter than that of the twins and blonde. His beard was plain black, meaning he was younger than the twins. He looked like he could crush a man's head with his bare hands without breaking a single sweat. They all looked scary but this one? This must be Tribal Prince Solo.

And then finally her eyes landed on the 6th man, the one standing at the forefront of the group with an Ula Fala around his neck. The Tribal Chief.  Suddenly the air had become thicker, so much so that Lori almost choked. The Tribal Chief was tall, for starters, with a broad chest and shoulders that filled his black suit to perfection. His facial features were set in a neutral expression. Cold brown eyes digging into her her curious ones, almost as if daring her to challenge him or his authority. Must be an automatic thing. His long jet black hair was tied into a bun at the nape of his neck, sides shaved like the twins. His beard, also salt and pepper colored.

They were all handsome (apart from the man in navy), but the Tribal Chief? His appearance was godly. Beautiful but ever intimidating.

And Lori was hardly ever intimidated

"Loreal," her father, Byron's voice called, cutting into her thoughts. She turned towards the older man, head briefly bowing in respect. "This is the Tribal Chief. He has come here with the Tribal Princes and his Wiseman with an exciting proposition," Byron said, stating everything Lori already knew.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes and prayed that they, like the rest, would do or say something to displease her mother and just end this meeting already. She didn't think she could spend another hour in the same room as the Tribal Chief.

"My Tribal Chief, this is my wife, Lady Azalea and my daughter Loreal, the one that Tribal Prince Rikishi has requested for his son," Byron said, introducing Lori and her mother to the stone faced man before them.

Tribal Prince Rikishi? They never mentioned him or his son?

Lori and her mother bowed their heads, unsure what to expect of the leader. Lori had never been so nervous for a marital discussion.

"A pleasure," the Tribal Chief said curtly, before turning to the man Lori assumed was his Wiseman.

"Lord Byron, it is our utmost pleasure to introduce you to your daughter's fiancé-" Wait, what do they mean fiancé? Has this already been finalized? Without me getting to at least know the man's name? "The Tribal Prince, Jey," the Wiseman concluded.

As Lori wondered which one was Jey, one of the twins, the one with the fully black hair stepped forward with his hand held out for Lori to take it. He bowed gracefully before her, leaning in to kiss the back of her knuckles. As their eyes locked, Lori was met with a sight she knew all too well. Arrogance.

"It's an honor to meet you, Princess Loreal," he said huskily, sending a shiver down Lori's spine. Unlike The Tribal Chief, who made Lori nervous, Tribal Prince Jey elicited a feeling of uncertainty. She was unnerved and to her, that was far worse than being afraid.

Yet still, Lori's head floated in a space of disbelief. There was no way that her father had sealed the deal for them to marry. Surely they were speaking out of turn and there was still some deliberation to be-

"Loreal, this is your fiancé. You are to be married in a month," her father stated proudly. His words made her ears ring and her vision blur. She grew light headed as the reality set in.

Loreal was getting married.

[sillyteecup]

The Wrong Way

Roman Reigns x black!o.c

Jey Uso x black!o.c

Chapter 2

Warnings:

18+

Strong language

References to sexual assault

Slutshaming

Taglist: @wrestlingprincess80 @lensilver @nbanenefrmdao @theninthwonder @vebner37 @tshepisho

A.N: Lmao so I took a little too long with this especially for how short it is, but like I said, I had a super busy week and just tried to get it together piece by piece. Rest assured thou that I will try and be quicker with chapter 3. Anyway, hope you like it. Enjoy❤️

Loreal was incensed. Throughout the meeting about the arrangements to be made, she fought the urge to look around for hidden cameras. This had to be a joke of some kind. A very unfunny joke at that. She had zoned out from the moment Byron introduced Tribal Prince Jey as her fiancé. As if her system had shut down from the disbelief. She sat at the large table in the dining hall with a curt, yet equally polite curl on her lips.

Not a smile. There was nothing to smile about.

While unable to listen, Lori did her best to observe her fiancé, new in-laws, and their Wiseman. Tribal Prince Solo was nothing short of stoic. His expression never cracked or wavered and he never spoke unless spoken to. Lori would never blame one for thinking he was essentially a walking corpse. It was creepy, but also weirdly impressive.

"The Tribal Tribal Prince and Princess to be will be wed on island of Samoa," Lori briefly heard the Wiseman tell Lord Byron. She fought an eye roll at the trivial information. She knew her father didn't care where it happened, as long as it did.

The white one, Sami, she heard the Wiseman call him, was somewhat fidgety. Maybe jumpy or paranoid would be a better description. His eyes flew to every corner of the room as if scanning for threats, albeit quite subtly as Lori doubted she would've noticed had it not been for her downright watching them. She also picked up on how when one of the staff members had dropped a tray after serving them tea, Sami's leg bounced rapidly as his hand flew to scratch his beard. Lori summized that he was trying to avoid an outwardly jumpy reaction. Granted he did a horrible job.

"There will be a few, uhm...routines that she will need to partake in," Lori heard the Wiseman state, not bothering to listen to the rest of his explanation. Her mother would fill her in later anyway.

The twins, Tribal Princes Jimmy and Jey were different from their brother, Solo. Glaringly different. They were expressive, laid back, talkative. Very talkative. They never said anything out loud, just the occasional exchange of whispers and snickers among the two of them. Jimmy however seemed to be the more decent one. Perhaps it was bias since he wasn't the one her father sold her soul to. While Jey held a hungry gaze whenever he encountered an attractive member of the female staff, Jimmy mainly focused on the meeting and the appetizers they had been served. Jimmy would also occasionally call for Jey's concentration, but it seemed that it was in fear of the Tribal Chief noticing.

Speaking of the Tribal Chief-

"The Tribal Princess-to-be will also be expected to live in the main palace until she and the Tribal Prince are to be married-" Lori's head snapped in the Wiseman's direction at this fact. Her sharp gaze missed the worried ones of her parents who weren't sure what to anticipate.

"Excuse me?" Lori asked, struggling to keep her voice level. Not only was she being offered as a sacrificial lamb to this fiend, but she was also being uprooted from her home without so much as a 2 week notice.

At this, Tribal Chief Roman's sharp gaze that had been mostly focused on Lord Byron and the Wiseman, shifted to Lori for the first time since he had entered their home. Lori couldn't put a finger on what was behind it, but despite it's intimidating nature, she shook it off. Now was not the time to be deterred by this man whose family was shaking her life up by the second.

"Uhm, yes Miss Loreal. As a future Tribal Princess, you are expected to reside in the palace until your wedding day-" the Wiseman had begun to explain, only to be cut off by an increasingly irritated Lori.

"With a man whom I've never spoken a word outside of a greeting to? Out of the question," Lori stated dismissively. She wasn't having any of it. Marrying him was bad enough, but to live with him before she had exchanged even the most insignificant bit of small talk with him was just a whole new extreme.

Lord Byron smiled nervously at the Tribal Chief. Lori's temper was a dangerous thing on it's own, now for it to flare in front of the most powerful man in the world was a sure recipe for destruction as he was certain that the Tribal Chief would not take kindly to her words once angered. Lord Byron could only tread lightly to keep both parties calm.

"Loreal, my dear, there is no question regarding the matter. If it is the will of the Tribal Chief, then it will be done," he said softly, trying his best to satisfy the Bloodline and avoid undermining his daughter directly. He stared at her pleadingly, noticing her jaw clench and eye start to twitch ever so slightly.

The twins watched the interaction, secretly anticipating a firey reaction from Lori to lighten the boring meeting. Solo remained stoic while Sami and the Wiseman's eyes were trained on the Tribal Chief, worried that her outburst might anger him, an emotion they usually experienced the brunt of. Tribal Chief Roman however was intrigued by her initial reaction. Her defiance, although minor was a sign that she would survive this turbulent marriage and life with his cousin. One less woman coming to him with complaints about an unhappy marriage.

Loreal exhaled deeply, keeping her temper at bay. Her stony gaze remained on her father as she spoke: "When am I expected to move?" she asked with a strained voice.

The Wiseman cleared his voice nervously, clearly worried that his answer would cause a series of unfortunate events. "Miss Loreal, unfortunately customs require you to move to the palace today," he replied, eyes flying between Lori and Tribal Chief Roman.

Lori stared blankly as the gears turned in her mind. Today? As in now? Again, surely this must be some sick fucking joke. Feeling her temper rapidly rise back up, she abruptly stood up from her seat and stormed up to her room. The absence of footsteps behind her told her her parents knew better than to try and reason with her right now. She needed time.

She stormed into her room, startling her maidens. "Ma'am, is it over already?"

"Ma'am you seem distressed?"

"Ma'am, what is the verdict?"

"Ma'am is everything well?" they all asked at the same time, further overwhelming Lori.

However they held no blame over her situation, so she calmed down before answering them. "Tribal Prince Jey, tell me about him. Tell me everything you've heard, everything you know," she demanded in a calm haste.

She sat on the edge of her bed as the maidens grabbed their stools to sit around her in their "gossip formation" as she liked to call it jokingly.

Willow was the first one to speak, sensing that there wasn't much time before one of her parents came knocking. 

"He's well known for well, being quite the rover ma'am," she said hesitantly. The last thing she needed was to be heard calling a member of the most powerful family across the seas a whore.

"That's putting it quite lightly Willow. The man is a womanizer. Has many a mistress across the seas I've heard," Minerva stated carelessly.

"And many a lovechild, I've heard," Claudia added with a scandalized look.

"I've heard he's a deviant. No regard for a lady's feelings and only wants one thing: sex. That's all he sees women for," Indi scoffed, looking slightly annoyed to Lori's intrigue.

"You've encountered him personally?" Lori asked her with a frown.

Indiana's eyes widened as she was taken aback. "No ma'am, not me!" she denied quickly in defense of her reputation.

"Then someone you know." Lori wasn't asking; it was an observation. One she wanted confirmed.

However Indiana seemed apprehensive, taking her time to answer which only further upset Lori. "Perhaps I should've mentioned that our time is borrowed. Someone will come to check on me soon and I would rather they not hear this little conversation for your own safety," Lori said, beckoning Indiana to speak and quickly.

"It was my sister. She encountered the Tribal Prince Jey a month ago," Indiana revealed softly. She was still afraid that the wrong person might have heard her and that her sister's life would be in jeopardy.

Lori exhaled sharply. Before she could speak however, there was a knock, likely one of her parents. The maidens immediately stood up and moved the chairs to their rightful positions and stood to the side of the room. Lori nodded, signaling for Claudia to open the door, revealing and annoyed yet nervous looking Lord Byron.

Lori's father took cautious steps into the room and towards his daughter. "I've come in peace," he said, hoping to avoid his daughter's wrath.

"Peace that you compromised the moment you decided to sacrifice me like a goat, to a hoodlum no less," Lori hissed, glaring daggers at her father.

"Lori he is a man who has desires. Unfortunately he tends to succumb to them, but that does not make him unworthy of respect nonetheless," Lord Byron explained in defense of the Tribal Prince.

Lori chuckled sarcastically. "If he were a woman he would be considered a damaged whore," she scoffed.

"Well his family is aware of your damaged state and still desires to have you as a princess. You should be grateful. Count yourself lucky that there is a man who still desires you!" he whisper-shouted, starting to feel his own temper rise at his daughter's defiance.

"A man who desires anything he can insert-" she was once again interrupted by Lord Byron.

"Loreal you are in no position of judgement! Perhaps if you hadn't shamed me, and were still pure, then you could run your mouth and voice your obscene opinions, but you are not pure. You do not have that luxury! Because you are used, damaged, tattered!" he hissed, making Lori's heart drop with each word.

How he loves to forget my cries and screams for help that day.

"So you sold me to a man who you see as my moral equal?" Lori asked incredulously as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. "Your love for me knows no bounds," she sarcastically gritted through her teeth.

Lord Byron ran his hand down his face and sighed before turning to leave her room. "Pack. All of you," he commanded, addressing the maidens for the first time since he had entered the room.

"You are to leave with the Bloodline in 2 hours."