#romans a writer

[misauthor]

HOT TAKE: I think black writers as a whole should stop tagging their fics as black!reader. Let mfs find out the reader is black by reading it. Non black writers don’t tag their fics as white!reader, so why should you? Don’t feel obliged to make entitled pricks feel comfortable. If we had to grow up reading stories about the reader aka y/n blushing visibly and running her fingers through her hair then #they should be ok about reading your stories and if they’re not *yawn* oh well! Let them throw a hissy fit in your comments and inboxes like the big, pathetic, crybaby, lewsurr they are. Just post your stories and go! Boo you whore to the haters xx

[wordsmithic]

unpopular opinion but with the new tide of Greek mythology stories and retellings, Greek Cultural Sensitivity Readings are absolutely necessary. We are in 2024, with thousands of fics and retellings out there!! How is this not a thing yet?? There's vast improvement one can achieve by working professionally on their text with a Greek. I've seen it so many times!!

Also, duh, I'm offering the service BUT I want you to know that the situation with the inaccuracies of SERIOUS works is so dire that initially I didn't even do it for money. As a writer I just wanted to... fix things, to set a new standard for writers and the industry that sells us the most heavily Americanized pop-culture material and passes it as "authentic vibes of Greek mythology". (And of course there were writers who wanted to do right by their story and they had reached out to me. So kudos to them as well!)

Okay, but why does Cultural Sensitivity Reading make a vast difference and it's not just smoke and mirrors?

As a Greek, I am tired of well-meaning writers and authors butchering very basic elements of my culture. It's not their fault exactly, since they were raised in another culture with a different perspective. And nobody clued them in on how different Greek culture is from theirs, so writers sometimes assume that their culture is the default and they project that into ancient Greece. (Even published professionals like Madeline Miller have written "UK or US in antiquity" (with a very colonialist flavor) instead of writing "Ancient Greece". (Looking at you, Circe!)

Even writers who researched a lot before coming to me still had a lot of misinformation or wrong information in their text, easily verifiable by the average Greek. Again, not their fault. They can only access certain information, which does not include Greek scholarly work and scientific articles that DO offer valuable context.

Translation, accuracy, and meaning: If you ever wondered what a word means or how to pronounce it, here's your chance! There are Greeks like me who are knowledgeable and have a keen interest in antiquity and they will be able to read and compare ancient texts, and dive deeper into the work of Greek scholars regarding those texts.

If you want to create new words, you can do that as well! (It doesn't always work, but we can try. Greek is a really rich language and has a word about everything) If you use existing words, I can help you separate reality from fantasy in the context of your story.

(Do not assume we Greeks are ignorant of our heritage, or that we don't know how to research! Our archaeology sector is huge and archaeological museums are closer to most of us than your local Target is to you)

I guarantee there are things you never thought about Greece and the Mediterranean - from the ancient to the modern era. Sprinkling elements like phrases, types of interactions, customs, songs, instruments, dances, etc , into your text will make your text absolutely rich in culture.

Names matter!!! The genders of the names matter, diminutives matter (If I see one more "Perse" for Persephone I will claw my eyes out along with a few thousand Greeks), naming traditions matter!!! In many cases you should not even use a diminutive!!

You will be able to write about a foreign culture easily! Because of the continuity of Greek culture, you can even write a few more recent Greek elements to fill in the gaps. I can make sure they are not mismatched, and they will complement your ancient setting. I have observed a few things I didn't know we had since antiquity, but they make sense because our land has certain characteristics.

Non-Greek writers often miss the whole context of Greek culture! Do you know how Greek respect towards deities and parents looks like? What tones we use when we talk to our elders? When to use honorific plural - if your setting is more modernized?

Oh, and please let's avoid caricatures when describing Greeks?? (even fantasy Greeks) There can be heavy exotisation and odd descriptions of Greeks, as if we are another species. Even in published works. For many western writers it's difficult to catch, unfortunately.

The whole process is actually way easier than you think. You send me a text, I make notes and then we have some discussion on your vision.

It's always okay to seek guidance from the locals! You are not "guilty" when you admit you don't know! How can you know if you don't ask?? You can't imagine what relief and "πάλι καλά!!!" I read/see from other Greeks when I tell them another foreigner is using me for cultural sensitivity? Greeks want you to seek help and will NOT shame you for it!

(On the contrary, you have no idea how many eye-rolls Greeks do when they see a blatantly wrong thing in a story... Which has happened pretty often for many years now. Can we do better as an industry?? Please???)

You can send me a personal message to share your story, or ask what this whole cultural sensitivity thing is all about, or ask about what I have done so far and how I can help. But for the love of all that's good, don't let your story be another "generic greek myth retelling"! And don't let others sell you their generic greek myth retellings!!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Words related to Mythology

to include in your next story/poem

Ambrosia - the food eaten by Greek and Roman gods; a very pleasant food

Chthonic - relating to or living in the underworld (i.e., the place in ancient stories where the spirits of the dead go)

Chimera - in Greek mythology, a creature with a lion's head, a goat's body, and a snake's tail

Delphi - an ancient Greek sanctuary (i.e., a holy place) on Mount Parnassus, where an oracle (i.e., a female priest) was believed to be able to answer questions with advice from the god Apollo

Fate - what happens to a particular person or thing, especially something final or negative, such as death or defeat

Gorgon - one of three sisters in ancient Greek stories who had snakes on their heads instead of hair, and who turned anyone who looked at them into stone

Harpy - in Greek mythology, a creature with the head of a woman and the body of a bird

Hydra - in ancient Greek stories, a creature with many heads that grew again when cut off; also, a difficult problem that keeps returning

Ichor - in Greek mythology, the liquid that flows in the bodies of the gods instead of blood

Muse - in ancient Greek and Roman stories, one of the nine goddesses who were believed to give encouragement in different areas of literature, art, and music

Nectar - in ancient Greek and Roman stories, the drink of the gods; also, a sweet liquid produced by flowers and collected by bees and other insects

Satyr - a god in Greek literature who is half man and half goat

Siren - in ancient Greek literature, one of the creatures who were half woman and half bird, whose beautiful singing encouraged sailors to sail into dangerous waters where they died

Sphinx - an imaginary creature with a lion's body and a person's or animal's head, usually with wings; in ancient Greek stories, a creature at Thebes with the body of a lion, the head and breasts of a woman, and wings. She asked people who passed by a riddle (i.e., a difficult question) and if they could not answer correctly, she killed them

Underworld - in mythology, a place under the earth where the spirits of the dead go

If any of these words make it into your next poem/story, please tag me. Or leave a link in the replies. I’d love to read them!

More: Word Lists

[420days]

20 MINUTES | ROMAN REIGNS

Can you tell I’m ovulating lmao?? But no really

——————————————————————————

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Roman asked as Kayla walked out the bathroom.

“Hmm, why?” She nodded as she stood in the mirror and put her earrings in.

“You’re showing my body. I don’t like all that.”

“And you show mine all the time.” She smiled at the little bit of jealousy in his tone.

“I get paid to do it baby girl.”

“You don’t see my body for the free. You always do something for me in return.” She bent over slowly, shaking her ass.

“Stop playing with me.” He walked over to her and tightly gripped her neck from behind in order to pull her closer to his body.

“I’m not daddy.” She smiled and then leaned up to kiss his lips.

“How long we got?” He mumbled against her lips as his front pressed against her back. She could feel him growing against her making between her legs feel moist. It didn’t take much for this man to turn her on and now she would have to wash up before they left.

“Twenty minutes.”

“That’s all I need.” He mumbled before he scooped her tall frame up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

“We’re gonna be late for our massages.” She giggled as he laid her on the bed and pulled her dress up over her stomach.

“Don’t worry about all that. I’m about to give you a massage right now.” He told her as he moved her soaked thong to the side and rubbed her vagina.

“Mmm.” She hissed as the feeling of his fingers rubbing against her sensitive clit in a slow, circular motion. She loved it when he was rough but it was something about him being gentle that drove her crazy.

Replacing his hands with his mouth he instantly went to work on her. Kayla’s moans grew louder as he slurped and sucked every bit of cum the leaked from her pretty pussy.

Grabbing the back of his head she rode his face until she reached her peaked and released all over his face. He made sure to lick every drop of her cum before moving up to kiss her lips.

“Mmh, I taste so good.” Kayla moaned as she gripped his beard that will cover in her juices and slipped her tongue into his mouth. Their tongues fought for dominance as they shared saliva with each other.

“Turn around for me.” He demanded once they pulled back from their kiss.

Arching her back she immediately got into position making sure her arch was just the way he liked it with her stomach flat against the bed and her ass in the air. Running his hands over her ass he slapped it before grabbing her cheeks and spreading them the way he wanted. He could already see her cum dripping down her leg making him more turned on then before.

“Damn baby, you’re already wet for me? Just leaking all over the damn place.” He bit his lip and ran his tip up and down her wet clit.

Her loud moans filled the room as he did and she could herself becoming impatient with him.

“Stop teasing me.” She whined.

“Relax love. You know I’m going to take care of you.” One hand gripped her waist and the other gripped her ass as he slowly slid into her wet center. Instantly her body gripped around him as he moved in and out her at a steady pace.

“Fuck baby. You gotta loosen up on me .” He grunted as he slowly moved in and out of her making sure she felt every stroke.

“Mmh, I can’t. It feels too good.” She moaned as she gripped the sheets and tried creating space between them.

“You running from be Kayla?” He paused his strokes and sent a hard slap to her ass.

“Nooo.” She whined but he wasn’t hearing that.

“Get back we’re you’re supposed to be.” He gripped her honey blonde hair and made her to slid further back into his dick, throwing it back on him.

“We don’t do that running shit Kay. You gotta take all this like you asked for.” He tighten his grip on her hair and pounded into her with no remorse. The sound of their skin slapping against each other filled the room as Kayla felt herself coming to her climax.

“Sorry baby, I won’t do it again.” She looked back at him with glossy eyes and a small smile. Kayla wasn’t the type to run because that’s just not how she was. Usually in the bedroom she was dominant like he was and wasn’t afraid to take control but tonight her body was feeling sensitive to his touch.

“I know baby. I know. You bout to cum aren’t you?” He asked feeling her body tense up around him.

“Mmh,” was all she could get out as her legs began to shake and her arch began to fall.

“Go ahead, cum for me like you always do. I’m right behind you baby.” He spoke in her ear as his strokes continued at the same steady pace sending her body into overdrive. Like always Kayla released first and he wasn’t too far behind her.

“Fuck!” He groaned as he released himself in her and allowed his body to hover over hers as he caught his breath.

“Damn baby.” He smiled as he slid out of her sensitive center and turned her over to face him.

“That was a supposed to be a quickie.” She huffed as she tried to catch her breath as well.

“I didn’t say that.” He shook his head and moved her wild her out he face so he could look at her.

“You said all you needed was twenty minutes. That’s was not twenty minutes.” She playfully hit his shoulder.

“That’s all I needed. Not what I wanted.” He kissed her lips before standing up from the bed.

“Well now I have to shower again and I’m going to need a PlanB since you wanna nut all in me.”

“It was too good to pull out, but I got you baby. Come let’s go shower before we’re actually late.” He scooped her sore body into his arms and carried her into the bathroom for what she didn’t know would be round two.

_______________________________________________

tag list: @bebesobrielo @trentybenty @amandairene88 @kiki1704 @paigereeder @uceyliyahh

[varnikareads]

When Adam bit the apple he did it because he trusted Eve. Because he loved her. Adam bit into the apple because the woman he loved told him to, no matter what God said. No matter the rules of heaven. What's heaven to a woman's love anyway? What's God to your wife? The first sins of humanity, were trusting others. Eve trusted a snake, Adam trusted Eve, and I trust you. Maybe that's a sin, just like the first couple. Maybe everyone's right about us and we're sinners and we offend God. But like I said, what's God to a woman's love anyway? What has heaven got that I can't find sitting next to you on a cool autumn morning?

— Maybecowboycore, tumblr

[msbigredmachine]

The Boy Next Door: Masterlist

A Roman Reigns thriller romance series by @harmshake and @msbigredmachine.

A sexy mysterious man is new in town...but mystery is not all he brings with him...

Summary: Ivy, a busy but established assistant head nurse and mom living in the suburbs of Connecticut isn’t living exactly comfortably. While she doesn’t live with the father of her young daughter, Zaia, Angelo always seems to be around to argue with her until her last breath. Yet Ivy gets a breath of fresh air when she meets her handsome new neighbor, Roman, who seems to believe that chivalry isn’t dead…unlike the people that suddenly turn up dead in their quiet neighborhood.

Featuring: Roman Reigns x Ivy (Black Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, language, angst, triggering themes, we're world-building here, folks, a nice, slow burn before shit gets diabolical...hope you enjoy!

Character List

Tag List

------

Chapter One - harmshake

Chapter Two - msbigredmachine

Chapter Three - harmshake

Chapter Four - msbigredmachine

Chapter Five - msbigredmachine (Coming Soon)

🏷️: @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @vebner37 @trippinsorrows @thewarlordsworld @mzv11 @nayys-world @hunnidmilly @tribalhoochie @cyberdejos2 @papireigns-05

@jxtina-86 @wrestlingprincess80 @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @alyyaanna @jstarr86 @murrylove @surdelcielo @prettyfilmz @shes2real @headoftheetable @li-da-savage @misslackey

@whatdoeseverybodywant @caramelcleopatraa @heauxvibez @empressdede @theninthwonder @sassginaswanmills @vampygomez

@wwecrazed2010 @vintage-pvssy @jeyusos-girl @xbriexx @ashykneee @katrinnnn @thedondada05 @shes2real @aldrigmer444 @kat3457 @rose-bliss @that-one-anxious-mango

@skyesthebomb @fearlesschimera @jaza23 @kuromiish @tshepisho @magnificentbouquetmusic @disc0fairy @sayyestoheav3nn @mellybandzz @Blveeeeeee @taytropicana

@mayasopinions @PlanetCh1ld @tribalchief2112 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @n-o-v-a-caine @sexyblacksimper @paigereeder @femdisa @joannasteez

[allmyn1ghts]

Shield's First Lady ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The Shield x Fem!Reader (platonically)

Synopsis: just a little hc about being the first and only lady of shield!!

Warnings: fluff and some angst

a/n: missing my boys and 2013-15 real bad yall!!

you absolutely loved your boys

at first, you were really iffy about the idea Triple H presented

"I want you to be Shield's First Lady! I think you being with the guys would be a perfect fit."

you didn't really want to be in a group or associated with one. But you decided to go ahead with the idea

You barely talked to Roman before but Seth and Dean were foreign to you.

"It's so nice to meet you all, I'm sure this is gonna be super fun for all of us!" 

The three men were nothing but sweetheart to you. always polite, making sure you were good

from that moment, you knew you had made the right choice

your role was pretty simple, the fearless badass of the group 

you would stand ringside for almost every match whether it be singles, tag, or all three of them. sometimes distract the ref so they can pull an illegal move ;)

every backstage segment had all four of you in it chilling in your custom locker room, getting ready for a match, etc...

promos always had you on the mic

"Shield is taking over the WWE. We have the Tag Team titles, the United States Championship, the Divas championship, My boys and I are unstoppable"

the fans absolutely loved Shield (you were the fan favorite)

yall had become a little family!

the four of you always went out after shows, having a blast

when the boys would get into stupid little arguments, you were the mediator

"C'mon guys enough! We're family. act like it!" 

when you got loud, oh they listened for sure. They knew not to piss you off

don't be fooled though, they loved you more

What you did for them ringside, they did for you.

Every time you won, they would slide into the ring and hold you up on their shoulders.

they always made you laugh at their silly side convos 

Everything was good

until it wasn't

The day Seth betrayed you all, was the day your heart broke

"Seth what are you doing?! How could you do this to us?! We're family!"

You looked him in his eyes, slapping him across the face. He had nothing to say but a smirk on his face. 

Seth not only betrayed you but his brothers too, his family.

Shield was never the same for any of you after that day. 

hope yall enjoyed this lil hc! comment and reblog pls and thank u <33

request - masterlist - about me - who I write for

[danishprince]

kieran culkin post-finale interview with variety

[alex-a-roman]

I'll never be ok

Between you and me, I'll never be ok; I will never shine in the dark, Nor see the world your way I could type and retype poem after poem, But they can never erase  What happened on these lands; This mind is tainted And I will never forgive myself.

~ A. A. Roman

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + one

authors note: hi! this is a complete rework from another roman story i wrote but needed to redo. it's a mafia au, so understandably super dark. a 'blink and you'll miss it' bit of a beauty and the beast retelling. not meant to be anything groundbreaking or unlike most mafia stories.

i've found that my writing is best when 2nd person pov, so i wanted to challenge myself to make this third person to better my writing, thus, bear with me, ya'll. :)

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

cw/tw: language, violence against women, mention of parental death, vague hinting at past sexual trauma

song inspo: 'looking through your eyes' by leann rimes

words: 5.2k

Through trial and error, mostly error, a lot of error, Solana Miller has learned and mastered most of the things that upset her father. 

Speaking out of turn. Meals not being ready on time. The house being a “mess.” The actual list is a living breathing thing that grows with each day and every unfortunate occurrence, but always at the very top of this list is lack of punctuality. 

There’s nothing Xavier Miller hates more than lateness. 

And that’s exactly what she is. 

Solana nearly faceplants into the three steps leading into the house with how fast she’s running. Her shaking hand and sweaty palm make it take longer than usual to unlock the front door, and the force in which she slams it shut behind her should be enough to knock the nearby family photo off the wall.

The photo that she is not included in, of course. 

She’s brushing off invisible lent as she rushes into her father’s office. “I’m sorry, there was an—” Her panting mouth snaps shut when she reaches the doorway, hand holding onto the frame of the door. “—accident.”

The minute Solana saw the flashing police lights and array of red brake lights was the moment she realized that she was in for a brutal punishment. She’d started to mentally prepare for such, trying to recall if she’s restocked the first aid kit kept in her bathroom and frequently retrieved. But, it’s not until she’s standing in the doorway of her father’s office, an office that’s filled with not only him and her brother, Wes, but other men that she realizes the ferocity of this punishment may be unlike any she’s received in some time.

Not only is she late, but she’s now interrupted some sort of meeting that he wanted her present for. 

Xavier’s eyes land on Solana with faux happiness that conceals flames she recognizes as a precursor for what’s to come. Naturally, like he’s not imagining all the cruel ways he can hurt her, in a way that only he can do, he slaps on a tight smile. “Ahh, there she is.”

Solana also realizes how almost everyone’s gaze is on her, and that doesn't make for a good response because she finds herself asking, “what’s going o—”

Xavier’s smile is very much unlike the ice in his voice. “Silence, child.” 

The sharpness of his command evokes an immediate response. Her shoulders slump and head drops. The displeasure just keeps growing. Solana can already feel the bruises forming, the sting of the ice on her busted lip. 

One of the men, an oversized, middle aged white man with a sharp gaze speaks. “I take it, this is your daughter?”

“It is,” her father confirms. If she didn’t know any better, Solana could almost swear she hears a hint of proudness. “Please forgive her lateness. She knows the importance of obedience.”

And the repercussions of obedience. Repercussions Solana knows await her once this meeting ends.

“I hope she does.” The same white man clears his throat. Solana hears the ruffling of papers but refuses to look up. Her gaze is better served focused on the ground, her silence and submissiveness certainly music to her father’s ears. “We received the requested medical report, and it appears you weren’t lying, Miller. The girl is still a virgin.”

That….that is the moment where it takes all willpower for Solana’s head not to snap up, eyes wide with both confusion and partial recognition. She’d wondered why her father asked her to schedule her yearly check-up with her GYN when she wasn’t due for another couple of months but knew better than to question, so she went ahead and did it. 

And she wondered why this checkup was so….different. Labs were taken, more questions asked, and a vaginal exam that had her leaving more uncomfortable than she’d ever been with Dr. Boyd. Not that seeing the woman was ever an enjoyable time in the first place. She's cold, stoic, an obvious doctor on the mafia payroll, but she's still a woman. 

Solana can't have a male GYN. She can't have a male doctor in any sort of specialty.

The confusion, however, comes into play at this man’s words.

“The girl is still a virgin.” 

That couldn’t be farthest from the truth.

“Her blood work also indicates she should have no problems conceiving a child.”

Emotions overpower reason as Solana breaks her silence and lifts her head. “What?” One furious glance from Xavier, and immediately, she knows that she’s fucked up.

She also realizes that she’s failed to notice one very important member whose sheer size takes up almost the entirety of her father’s onyx black loveseat.

Solana has heard the name Roman Reigns more times than she can keep track of over the years. It’s inescapable to live in this life and not know of the brutal ruler of the Bloodline, one of the most notorious mafia bosses in the underworld. But never in any of her 28 years has she seen him in person. Maybe somewhat in the same vicinity but never in close proximity, not like now where he’s sitting mere feet away from her.

He’s reclined back into the seat, thick legs spread, a blank expression on his handsome, bearded face. His features are sharp and predatory, yet there’s something about his eyes, a beautiful, light shade of brown that’s such a contrast to the cold blooded killer he is. Bulging, rippling muscles seem to be at battle with the plain black shirt he wears, and she notices his silky black hair is pulled back into a surprisingly neat bun of sorts. 

Solana knows that she shouldn't stare, but it’s hard not to. The man is objectively beautiful. He’s also staring directly at her. 

Panicked, her head drops down, eyes returning to continue counting the amount of beige swirls in her father’s persian rug. 

“Shut up…. ”Wes speaks from the other side of the room. He’s leaned up against the column near the bookshelf, lazily spinning around the pocketknife he never goes anywhere without. 

It’s the same knife that’s cut into her skin at least more than a couple of times over the years, drawing various amounts of blood depending on the extent of his anger.

Wes is always angry.

“I’m a man of my word, Mr. Heyman.” Solana doesn’t even need to be looking up to know her father has his hand over his chest, that faux sense of honor painting his harsh features. “I would never disrespect the Tribal Chief by wasting his time.” Solana’s throat goes tight. “My daughter is a worthy candidate.”

Candidate. Heir. Virgin.

It doesn’t take long with these major clues for Solana to piece together what they’re discussing, why her presence was required when never before has her father wanted her anywhere near one of his meetings.

Arranged marriage.

They’re discussing a possible arranged marriage between Solana and Roman Reigns. 

Her fingers flex and suddenly start to rub nervously against the soft material of her dress. Any appetite she had prior to entering the home is no longer present, vacated, replaced by a thick, heaping layer of anxiety.

Arranged marriages are far too common in this life. There’s not a week that’s gone by since she became of age that she doesn't hear about some union between two members of rivaling or partnering families. It's just how these things are done.

However, at 28, much past the typical timeline that daughters are married off, she’d accepted that that was not her fate. And she was okay with that, more than okay. Is okay with that.

Solana has a……complicated relationship with men, anyway. With people in general, but especially men.

The thought of her being paired off to Roman is so bad that it’s almost laughable. Their compatibility is in the negative range. He would never give her a second look, not even a first. A man like him needs someone who matches his prowess. She isn’t even on the radar.

And yet…..

And yet her father has somehow garnered interest, provided his counsel with her medical information “proving” her worthiness, and secured a meeting.

Circling back around to the medical report has her chest feeling tight and heavy. Lies. Her father has clearly paid off Dr. Boyd to write up whatever he believed needed to be said to increase his chances of locking in this deal.

She doesn’t know about the fertility portion, never really bothering or concerning herself with that part of her health. Someone has to have to have sex to conceive a child, and as far as Solana is concerned, that's never going to happen.

Not....not again.

But the virgin part is most definitely a lie. The physical exam certainly would have confirmed that.

And yet, the exact opposite was stated. 

Chills instantly move down her spine. Her father is perpetuating a fraud. Even more, he’s perpetuating fraud to a man who’s rumored to have a body count in the thousands. The same man he’s trying to pawn her off to.

This….this is not good.

It’s not good at all.

—----------

“She’s weak.”

That’s the first thing to leave Roman's mouth since they entered the Miller Manor, and it’s not announced until they're back in the SUV and on their way back to his estate.

Checking emails and clearing notifications that piled during the time his phone was tucked away, he continues. “Too young. Has no backbone. It’s embarrassing.” Roman’s tone, much like everything else about that pointless meeting, reeks of boredom. 

“Her father clearly has her on a tight leash,” Rikishi adds. He brings the handkerchief he keeps in his shirt pocket and swipes it across his forehead, dapping up the light sheen of sweat that’s already formed in the walk from the house to the SUV. “But, a very pretty girl.”

Roman cannot and will not disagree on that. She’s undeniably beautiful, but everything else about her is unappealing. And saying Miller has her on a tight leash is an understatement. She’s terrified of him. The brother too,  and Roman would take a solid guess that one of the two is responsible for the slightly faded but still visible bruise he noticed on Solana’s upper forearm. 

There’s some conflicted emotion present at that piece of information, though he mostly leans in one direction.

Women and children should be off limits. Specifically, women and children who aren’t already indoctrinated into the life to the point of training. Roman knows plenty of kids who completed their first kill while still in single digits and women who fight better than some of his men. For them, it’s free game. They’ve proven they can handle themselves.

Solana doesn’t fall in any of those categories, and he’d be shocked if she even knows how to hold a gun.

Thus, in his mind, she’s off-limits.

Nonetheless, his family is full of fighters, regardless of sex.

So there's the other part of him that can't understand her passivity, that believes she's just weak. 

The thought process generates a list of other, much more adequate options. “What about Belair?”

“Engaged to be married in the Montez family.” Roman rolls his eyes. That fucker is an irritating prick. Seems like a desperate match. 

“Cargill?”

“She….” It’s slightly comical for Roman, watching the older man work his hardest to explain what was inarguably a disrespectful rejection. “---is not interested.” 

A dark chuckle leaves his throat. “She said fuck off, didn’t she?”

“More or less.” 

Roman smiles. He would expect nothing less. Cargill is a beast of a woman, a sure fun time in the sheets if she would ever remove the stick from up her ass.

“If I may, my Tribal Chief….” When Roman remains quiet, he takes that as his cue to continue. “The girl may be young and docile, but that also makes her moldable. She will do whatever you want with no protest. Is that not a possible advantage?” Roman continues to look out the window, allowing Paul to add on, “and she will have no problem giving you an heir, which is inarguably the most important thing at this point in your life.”

“He brings up a good point, uce,” Rikishi chimes. “With your temper, it’s probably best for you to take a wife who is more passive than dominant.”

Logically, it makes sense, but the idea of a stuttering, stammering wife who can’t even maintain eye contact for more than a minute doesn’t appeal to him in the slightest. 

“And as far as age, she’s closer to 30 than anything. You go for any older, and you might run into fertility struggles. This is the perfect age.” Rikishi’s crooked smile is followed by a small chuckle. “You ain’t so young yourself anymore, uce. Gotta have an even balance.”

There’s a difference between a balance and a child. Roman is prepared to say as such when Jimmy speaks, deciding to add his two cents from the passenger's seat.

“Look, Big Dog. All you need is for her to give you a kid, and you heard Paul. She can do that. Ain’t no need in making this bigger than what it is.” His insertion and contribution to the conversation ends up being valid. Granted, if he was anyone else, the delivery would have resulted in a maiming. But, this is Jimmy. He’s like a brother to Roman. Him and Jey. Hence their privilege with speaking so bluntly. “Shit, and did you see that body? Mannn, I’d never pull out of that.”

Also a valid point. Her dress was fitted around the chest area, accentuating heavy breast he could most definitely see himself palming as he fucked her from behind. The rest of the dress wasn’t as contoured, but it flowed against her shape when she walked in, and he could make out the curves he was certain she preferred to keep hidden. It’d been a while since he’d taken a woman to bed with a body like hers, a preference, but also not as easy to find in his world of fit assassins and killers who spend more time in the gym than anywhere else.

His latest set of women were on the slimmer side, moderate thickness, nothing like this girl.

But sexual desirability aside, her passivity indicates she’d be….that kind of woman. The woman who expects words of affirmation and quality time. A “gentle” kind of woman who’d want him to be sweet and patient in the bedroom, to make love to her. Roman is neither and none of those things.

He fucks, and he fucks hard. Subsequently, his wife should be cut from the same cloth. 

“Just….think about it, my Tribal Chief, hmmm?” Paul’s voice is tentative, laced with that tone that indicates he believes the decision should be made sooner rather than later. Granted, he values his life and standing in the bloodline, so he opts to not implement time constraints. 

A wise decision. 

“The scars.” Roman counted eight of them total, the one most pronounced on her face, slashing across her right eye and into the top of her cheek. The type of scar that’s embedded into the skin. And the soul. With a few of his own, it’s one of the first things he noticed. “What’s the story there?”

Paul quickly pulls out the portfolio from his briefcase, hurriedly flipping through papers when he settles on the one he’s looking for. “Ahhh….” Paul clears his throat, a telltale sign that’s he uncomfortable with what he’s about to say. “2005. It was a hit. Her mother was killed in the attack. Knifing. Solana survived, clearly.”

Roman turns his attention from the passing cars to look at his Wise Man. For the first time since this whole interview process began, Roman is intrigued. “She was there?” Paul confirms as such and says something else, but Roman’s attention is out the window again, haphazardly watching the flow of traffic, assimilating and accommodating this new piece of information. 

This may be the one and only thing he can understand about this girl. Something…something he can relate to. 

Survival

One doesn’t go through something like that without coming out on top or letting it bury you. Unlike him, she’d clearly gone the latter route. Granted, just making it out alive, physically, he knows better than anyone, is a feat in and of itself.

“Give me her file.”

—-------------

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry I didn’t write yesterday. It was…..a day.

I’m not even sure where to begin, because I’m not sure what to even feel at this moment to be honest. Dad is trying to marry me off to a mafia head, which would be fine, except….except that head is Roman Reigns. He’s….he’s a monster, mama. Has no soul. Not that many men in this life do, but there’s something about him that’s even more terrifying than the others. To make matters worse, dad had Dr. Boyd lie in my medical report. She wrote that I’m still a virgin, I guess something about my hymen still being intact. Mama, that’s a lie. There’s no way that’s possible. 

Not.....with what they did to me.

I’m trying hard not to panic, because there’s no way Roman would go for me. He’s a monster, yes, but even Lucifer was God’s most beautiful angel. He’s a very handsome man. He would never want someone like me.

I don’t know any man who would.

“Solana.”

Solana quickly snaps her journal closed, using the pen in her hand to mark her spot. She’s met with the gentle smile of 73–year–old Meryl Jensen, a widow who’s worked at this library for almost forty years.

Solana still remembers the first day she met Mrs. Jensen. She was 6-years-old, and her mom was looking for a certain book she’d read about in the newspaper. A book that she hoped would further and better her English speaking skills. A native of Mexico, Nina Miller taught herself English by immersing herself into American literature, film, and music. 

Similarly, Nina taught her Solana Spanish by immersing her daughter in Spanish literature, film, and music. A secret among the two as an always hostile, paranoid Xavier “banned” Nina from teaching their daughter a language he couldn’t understand.

If he couldn’t control it, it was a no-go.

But it was when Mrs. Jensen was helping Nina locate her book, Solana noticed another book sitting near a kids display. Goodnight Moon.

If Solana tries hard enough, she can still remember the warm smile her mother gave her as she allowed her to check out the book, her very first "purchase" from the library. It started a love of books, aided by Mrs. Jensen who always provided appropriate recommendations to Solana and her mom.

Not that Solana tries to think too much about memories with her mother. They’re almost always ruined and replaced with the sounds of the butcher knife slicing into her mother’s body as Nina used the last of her strength to shield and protect her daughter from the violent assault that would end up taking her life.

Solana’s smile, however, does dim and her stomach drops when she realizes that Ms. Jensen isn’t alone. 

“This girl is always writing, I swear.” It’s only when the older woman refers to her book that Solana quickly closes up her journal, shoving it to the side.

Her eyes never leave Roman though.

And his certainly aren’t leaving her, even as Mrs. Jensen places a hand on his arm, laughing at her own joke.

Mrs. Jensen then squints her eyes and leans over the counter. “Child, did you fall again?” It takes a second for recognition to dawn. She’s then hit with the memory of her father backhanding her across the room, the force sending her to the floor after the dispersion of yesterday’s meeting. A truly pale punishment compared to some of his prior assaults. “My goodness.” Mrs. Meryl laughs, shaking her head. “An everyday klutz I tell you. I can’t think of one day she hasn’t come in here without some kind of mark from her clumsiness.”

Roman’s staring directly at Solana while acknowledging the older woman’s casual observation. “Interesting.” He then darts his eyes, offering a smile that, if one didn’t know any better, could be considered genuine. But Solana does know better. She knows much better. “Could you give us a moment?”

Of course, Mrs. Jensen obliges, saying something about hushing up some boisterous high school students on the first level before it’s just Solana and Roman. 

She has a million and one questions, starting with why the hell Roman Reigns is at her job. Whatever the reason, it can’t be good. A man like him only brings about chaos and mayhem.

And death.

Swallowing and powering through the onslaught of anxiety, she starts off in an unsurprisingly soft voice, “if you’re looking for my father, he’s—”

“If I wanted your father, I would be speaking to him right now.” Roman’s interruption is dangerously calm, but Solana detects a hint of irritation. “You’re the one I want.”

Oh.

What in the world this man could want with Solana is beyond her. To make matters worse, Solana catches his gaze on her bruised cheek again. Makeup could only do much, but she's really starting to wish she went for heavier coverage. She drops her head, focusing on the denim of her jeans to avoid his burning stare. “I—umm.”

Solana’s body registers before her head does that Roman is lifting his hand to touch her. She responds accordingly, jumping back and away from the interaction. He chuckles, darkly, lowering his hand to his side. “That was some fall.”

Solana unconsciously brings her hand to hover over her cheek. ���I’m—clumsy.”

“No, you’re not.” It takes a second for Solana to register his blunt comment and another for her to digest that he’s calling her bluff. “But, you are a terrible liar.”

He’s not wrong on either note, but she’s unsure just how to respond. “What—what do you want from me?”

Roman straightens up, and just the sheer size of him makes her swallow in fear. He’s a beast of a man, more beast though than anything else. “To make sure you understand what this is. It’s obvious Miller didn’t inform you about the meeting, and I won’t go into anything with anyone unless they’re fully aware of what they’re signing up for.”

If he’s waiting for Solana to acknowledge the first part of his reason for showing up at her job, he does a poor job waiting because he goes straight into his disclaimer. 

“I have no desire to be with you or any other woman for anything more than a sexual release. We’ll ensure my bloodline continues, but that’s it. Financially, you’ll want for nothing, and I can assure you, your clumsiness won’t be an issue. But, I will never love you, never see you as anything more than a business arrangement because that’s what you are.” He’s studying her facial expressions, reading all of the emotions oscillating around. “Do you understand?”

There’s a couple of different thoughts racing through her mind at this moment, but the dominant thought is wondering just what in the hell would possess someone like him to ever even consider someone like her? He is the definition of brute strength in all areas. She is beyond broken. There can’t be anything appealing about that.

But then….maybe there is. Roman knows she will not cause him any trouble, can recognize this brokenness and sees it as an easy way to get what he needs while still having the freedom to do whatever, and whoever he wants. It’s a bit of a win-win. 

And as far as the love aspect…..

Solana learned a long time ago that all of the fairytales lied. There is no prince that rides in and saves the damsel in distress. No one to swoop in and save you from the monster. It’s either killed or be killed, and her death already occurred on August 7th, 2005.

As ironic and fucked up as it is, Solana recognizes this is the best deal she’ll ever get in her life. 

With quite literally nothing to lose, she acknowledges him.

“I understand.”

—---------

The minute Solana steps into the house, she’s immediately shoved into the freshly painted wall behind her. A strong hand is on her throat, restricting her breathing.

“What did you say to him!”

Fingers foolishly grasping at the hand suffocating her, Solana tries to speak even with knowing that it’s impossible when she can’t even breathe. This only pisses her brother off even more. He bangs her head into the wall, causing the nearby pictures to shake. “Answer me, you stupid bitch!”

“Let her go, Wes.”

Xavier’s command is followed with a delayed acquiescence. Solana falls to the floor, coughing and gasping violently. She brings her hand to the back of her head to check for any blood, but her gaze is soon on the black leather shoes her blurred version is able to make out.

Solana cries out when her father grips her hair, yanking her head back and forcing her to look at him.

“We know Reigns came to see you at your job today.”

At some point in her life, Solana would be stunned and partially disturbed this, by how her father is aware of this piece of information.  But, this is no longer that time in her life. That time when she was naive enough to think that she could ever escape this life, ever leave and never look back.

She’d tried once. Foolishly. And it landed her in the hospital for two weeks. 

Solana can still remember her father’s dry, cracked lips pressing an insincere kiss against her temple as he said in the calmest yet coldest voice. “You ever try to leave this place again, and I’ll make sure to finish the job.” 

That was the last time she ever fooled herself into believing better waited for her.

“Now, what did you say to him?”

“I—I—nothing.” It’s not a lie but not the entire truth. She didn’t say anything that should have pissed him off. Then again, with a man as temperamental as Roman, anything and everyone could piss him off. Look at her dad and brother. “What did he—”

A phone ringing possibly saves, or just delays, the next set of hits. And even better, it’s Xavier’s phone.

He pulls it out of the back pocket of his pants, eyes lighting up. With a mischievous smile, he taps the screen twice, answering, “my Tribal Chief.” Solana’s eyes widen. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Cut the bullshit, Miller.” Roman’s deep, baritone voice is powerful and authoritative, even when he’s not even in the room. “You know why I’m calling.” And before her father can further upset him, Roman jumps straight to the point. “We have a deal.”

It’s been some time since Solana has been so thoroughly surprised by something she’s heard that she briefly loses awareness of where she is. But this….this is one of those moments. 

He can’t…..he can’t have said what she thinks he just said. Her acknowledging understanding was just a formality. She didn’t think he was actually considering marrying her.

Xavier’s smile is broad, signs of a man who just got exactly what he wanted. “Wonderful. We shall start planning.”

“Two weeks. The wedding will be two weeks from today.”

The tightening in her chest has returned. Solana is certain she’s about to start hyperventilating. This….this can’t be happening. 

Xavier and Wes share a look as he stammers with a response. “Uhh, yes, of course—whatever you wa—”

“Oh, and Miller?”

Irritation flashes in Xavier’s eyes, but he shoves it back for a polite acknowledgment. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“You or your boy lay a single fucking finger on her again, and I’ll gut you both where there’s nothing left to bury.”

Solana is almost certain there’s not a single one of them that’s not taken back by Roman’s icy warning. However, she swallows when her father’s fire gaze lands on her. She knows immediately she’s in for a matching bruise on the other side of her face.

Xavier laughs quietly. “That girl has always been so clumsy. I assure you—”

“One.”

Xavier is understandably confused by Roman’s single-word response. “Pardon?”

“Everyone gets one chance to lie to me. You’ve just used yours.” For the briefest hint of a second, Solana believes she sees fear flash in her father’s eyes. “Consider yourself warned.”

The phone disconnects. 

Silence settles over the three of them, but it doesn’t last. 

“I–I don’t understand.” Solana finds her voice, unable to stay quiet in a moment that’s completely just changed the course of her life. “I–I can’t marry Roman.”

For a lot of reasons. Many reasons that she can list out and defend if given the chance.

Solana is consumed by her thoughts and pending mental breakdown, so much so that she misses when her brother stalks across the room. He throws her back up against the wall, and the minute her eyes land on the silver, she’s frozen in place.

His grin is predatory and satisfactory as he murmurs, floating the knife in front of her. “It seems you’ve finally made your existence have some type of purpose.” Solana has to close her eyes. Just seeing knives sometimes brings her back to that night, and having one pressed against her….

Wes knows exactly how agonizing that is to her, hence his favorite method of torture. 

Swallowing, she weakly protests, “you—you told them I’m a virgin.”

That’s a major reason why. Her father has made her out to be some chaste, pure woman when she’s anything but. And to lie to Roman, of all people, about something like that.

They’ve more or less signed her death decree.

“No. Dr. Boyd’s medical reports confirmed you’re still untouched, and you’ll go along with it for however long is necessary.” Xavier’s rebuttal is smooth and to the point, like he doesn’t see the issue with his actions.

He never does. 

“Don’t you understand?” Wes lazily slides the knife up and down her skin, smiling at the terror in her face. It’s his greatest motivation, witnessing the extent of her fear toward him. “We’d let Reigns and his entire bloodline fuck you if that’s what it took to get what we want.”

Solana has no shock value at his words. Wes stopped caring anything for her the minute she got their mother killed, and it’s not as if she can entirely blame him. 

Nina would still be alive if not for Solana. It’s something she accepted ages ago, an undeniable truth. 

However, she does have to ask in a pained voice, “what do you want?”

Xavier supplies, taking a hit of his cigar she didn’t realize he was holding this whole time. “We want and will have control of the bloodline.”

If not for her current situation, she’d laugh. Control of the bloodline. That’s….that’s not even a dream. That’s a delusion. Still, there’s an undertone to his voice and words that alarm her. In a quiet voice, she protests. “That’s—that’s impossible.”

Solana hisses as Wes presses the knife deeper into her throat, nicking her skin and drawing blood. “No, it isn’t, not anymore. Because we have a way in.”

And it’s with widened eyes and a constricted throat that Solana finally understands what’s happening, what they plan to have happen. 

Her voice is barely above a whisper. “No….”

Xavier answers with a cruel, wicked smile. “You’re going to kill Roman Reigns for us.”

[bloodlinesgirly]

Somewhat off limits~Roman Reigns

warnings: smut

word count: 1593

lowercase intended

not proofread

He doesn’t enjoy arguing with you, he doesn’t mean to yell and reprimand you. He knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help but notice the way you make his dick stand everytime he hears your voice. So what else is he supposed to do? You’re off limits to him. You’re Seth Rollins’ sister, his former sheild brother, a man roman respected in the ring and was even friends with outside of it. Roman promised himself you were the one line he would not cross. no matter how tempted.

You’re sitting at a table alone, waiting for your brother who promised he’d go over some ring stuff with you. after a few minutes you finally hear the chair across from you move, “seth you’re late” you mumble before looking up to realize the man sitting across from you is not your brother, but of course, it’s roman reigns “can we just…not do this right now?” you huffed at him, a shocked expression appearing on his face. “i just thought you’d take some constructive criticism” he shrugged at you, leaning back in his chair. “i really don’t wanna hear it.” you groan, knowing his idea of constructive is just telling you how shitty he thought you did. you know you botched the moonsault, you don’t need to hear it from him too. “you know, if you would’ve-“ he starts to speak, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “i said fuck off roman, i don’t want to hear it.” you cut him off, raising your voice a little. “why are you always such a bitch? can’t take some damn pointers without screamin” roman rolls his eyes, his muscles flexing against the black long sleeve he’s wearing. You get up from your seat, preparing to storm off. before you’re even upright his hand is gripping your wrist.

“where do you think your goin?” he huffs a laugh.

“can you leave me alone for 1 fucking day?” your tone was evident, he knows he’s making you angry, but he just can’t stop. roman tugs you closer to him before he speaks.

“actin like i don’t see you posted up around my locker room daily” he laughs, your noses almost touching as he talks. “yeah? maybe im just trynna fuck on jimmy.” you shrug. Roman’s eyes darken at your words, a new anger creeping up inside of him.

“maybe, but i think you just wanna fuck me.” his tone is annoying, the way he cocks his head at you, how close his lips are to yours. it’s all annoying. what’s even more annoying is how right that man is.

you’d give anything for him to finally take you, show you how much he really hates you. you push those thoughts to the side, looking down as you speak. “i guess i could say the same about you.” you gesture to the tent forming in his sweatpants. roman shrugged, “well that’s not fair is it? i bet you’re fuckin drippin f’me” He whispered, his lips almost grazing yours. you wanted to test the waters, push yourself a little closer but he released his grip on your wrist suddenly. just in time as your brother appeared from around the corner. “hey roman!” Seth runs over and gives him a fist bump. They chat for a while, giving you time to escape back to your locker room.

~later that night~

With becky on hiatus you found yourself sharing your hotel room with your brother, his suitcase laid open, pieces of different sets of ring gear thrown about from this morning when he couldn’t decide on one. You were starting to clean around the room when your phone pinged a few feet away from you.

~text photo here~

you feel your heart start to race, “am i seriously doing this right now?” you mutter to yourself. you start looking for something to wear and settle on your favorite matching set with a silk nightgown over top. You throw on some makeup using your phone camera and smooth out your hair with your hands. Seth was in the shower so the bathroom was off limits.

“Seth i’ll be back later tonight” you yell at the bathroom door and hoped he heard you. Taking one last deep breath you leave your room and head down the hall to roman’s, praying no one sees you on your way.

One knock and the door swings open, roman stood there, his muscular frame almost taking up the whole opening. his hair was wet, your eyes followed a droplet down his chest and abs, settling at the band of his sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

“it’s not nice to stare, is it?” his voice brings you out of your trance, you feel your cheeks go red as you look up at him.

“are you gonna let me in or are we gonna stand here all night?” you huff and push through him into the room.

Immediately your backs pressed to the door, one of roman’s hands resting on your throat. He bends down slightly, lips resting on your ear, his soft breaths sending shivers through your body” see this why you’re here…we’re gonna fix that attitude right the fuck now.” you’re breath hitches as he speaks. “why don’t you take this off for me hm?” he pulls at the hem of your nightgown. you hesitate before pulling it over your head, leaving you only in a bra and underwear. “mmm…there we go” he groans. his hands wandering to your ass, squeezing it harshly. you moan at his touch and wrap your arms around his neck. finally his lips crash onto yours, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. you moan into the kiss allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. roman’s hand cups your pussy over your underwear, fingers wandering over the wet spot he’s created.

“mhmmm that’s what i like to see baby…you gon let me fuck this pussy?” he let out a breathy moan as he spoke. “yyyes…roman..fuck-“ you whimper as he pulls your underwear to the side, running his fingers through your folds. you move your hips against his hand wanting nothing more than his dick inside you, or at least his fingers. he smirks as your hole hungrily sucks in his 2 fingers. your body complying with him completely. “roman please baby…need you so bad” your whines go straight to his dick, painfully hard in his sweats. he curls his fingers inside of you hitting your spot, he grunts as you gush down his wrist. “where’s that attitude now sweetheart? this really all it takes to shut you up?”

“fuck you” your words come out shaky and not at all how you wanted them too.

“oh you’re about to” roman laughs, you whine as his fingers leave your pussy.

roman reaches behind you and unclips the bra you're wearing before laying you down on his bed. the mattress dips as he kneels by your legs, dragging your underwear down your thighs. completely bare in front of him you watch as his eyes travel up and down your body, committing the sight of you laid out for him to memory. you watch as he stands up to get rid of his sweats and boxers. your cunt drips at the sight of his cock. it’s long and the perfect thickness with veins in all the right places. its pretty. roman’s hands sit heavy on your thighs, spreading you open. You sit up on your elbows and watch as he slides his dick along your folds.

“stop teasing” you gasp as his dick presses hard on your clit. finally he presses tip to your hole, you hiss at the stretch. within a couple thrust he sinks completely into you, quite grunts falling from his lips. “ss-so fucking tight” he grabs your legs, the bends of you knees sitting perfectly in his arms. he pulls out almost completely before thrusting back into you. “oh shhit daddy mmm” your moans drive him deeper, thrusting harder into your pussy. the sounds of your wetness and his thighs slapping your ass was loud throughout the room. he’ll definitely have a noise complaint waiting for him. he bends down a little, pressing your thighs almost to your stomach allowing him to hit deeper. your lips clash sloppily, your moans filling his mouth as much as his are filling yours. he slows his movements, thrusting as deep as possible before grinding his dick into you. his abs rutting against you clit sends you over the edge “i’m cumming daddy fuck, i’m cumming…please” roman let’s out a sound almost like a whimper as he feels you clenched around his cock. “mhmmm gon’ make me nut, squeezing me like that” his words come out in heavy breaths, his thrust slow and deep becoming shallow and fast, working himself towards his own high. deep grunts and quiet whimpers fall from his mouth. with one last deep thrust he buries himself inside of you, spilling ropes of hot cum deep in your pussy. you moan as he fills you, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. he pulls out, watching his and your cum drip from your pussy down to the sheets below.

“you’re brother is gonna kill me.” roman says and you both laugh.

“i should probably get back…i told him i was coming home.” you sigh softly. roman grabs your chin and kisses you tenderly, playfully pulling your bottom lip.

“call and tell him you’re stayin…im not done with you yet.”

[lilacthebooklover]

jon matteson characters family reunion. richie is ignoring everyone and blasting japanese nightcore on his airpods. roman is here and acting disgusted at the food while linda boasts about her kids (said kids are currently causing mayhem that will probably end in tears). paul has brought emma with him and is on the verge of a nervous breakdown. boy jerry is trying to give him a pep talk on how to propose so he can "do the do" with emma (bj recommends a walk in the woods). the hatchetman bursts in at one point. daniel lost track of time and decided it wasn't worth showing up. gary is happy to be a part of something like he was with the wiggly cult but nobody likes him. wiggly watches for a while then shows up in human form to cause more mayhem, nobody knows who he is, why he looks like them or why he speaks like a toddler but he's freaky and may or may not be on the verge of murder. fun times.

[420days]

BIRTHDAY SEX | ROMAN REIGNS

Summary: the title says it all tbh…

Warnings: Smutttt

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Monae ! Happy birthday to you!” The waiters sung as Monae smiled across the table at her husband of seven years.

All weekend he’s done nothing but spoil her. Whether it be a brand new Chanel purse, a soothing massage, or the brand new black body KIA K5 with the red interior she’s been yearning for.

They were now seated in one of the best seafood restaurants in Chile enjoying each others company.

“Thank you guys.” She smiled as she saved the video to her phone and looked at the chocolate dessert in front of her.

“You must want me to cry again.”

“Never that love. I just have to show you how much I love you. With all you do for me and the kids. Holding the house down when I’m on the road and treating me like a king all the time. I gotta do the same for my queen.” He looked her in her eyes meaning every word.

When he meet Monae nine years ago he had no idea he was going to fall for her so fast. She was everything he wanted in a woman from her looks to her personality. He knew instantly he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her bad here they were nine years later, married with four kids.

“You’re so sweet. I love you.” She leaned over the table to place a kiss on his lips which he returned.

“I can’t believe I’m thirty three. We’re getting old babe. You’re all gray and everything.” She joked making him shake his head.

She absolutely loved the gray in his beard. It was something about it that made him look extra sexy and she couldn’t get enough of it. Joe on the other hand preferred to dye it and prevent himself from looking older.

“That’s cause you love this shit. I keep it like this for you.” He told her and she bite her lip in response.

“It adds to your sexiness.” She gripped his chin and leaned over the table so their faces were close together.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmmh.” She nodded her head, never breaking eye contact with him. It was no lie the drinks were getting to her and once it was in her system it made her feel some type of way.

“Finish your dessert.” He mumbled already knowing what type of time she was on. He knew exactly how they got when they both had liquor in their systems.

The sexual tension was high as she finished her dessert, savoring each scoop of vanilla ice cream as she licked it off the spoon.

When she finished Joe payed the bill and waited for the driver to bring them to the hotel. In the car they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Joe gripped his wife’s behind caressing it in his large hand as she smiled up at him with lust in her eyes, stealing kisses from him every now and then.

From the time they stepped foot in their luxury hotel suite it was on. Joe instantly stripped her of her dressed and pulled her thong to the side. Hoisting her into the he pinned her against the wall and immediately went to work.

“Mmh, fuck.” She moaned as his warm mouth attached to her vagina and began eating her out.

“You like that? Daddy’s making you feel good?” He spoke against her allowing all the vibrations to run through her body.

“Yes, you’re making me feel so good. Keep going, just like that.” She moaned into his ear, giving him the reassurance he needed.

It didn’t take long for her to cum all over his tongue and he savored every drop of it. His licking and slurping made her wetter by the second.

“Fuckkk— I love you.” She managed to get out as he slipped inside of her began pounding her up and down on his dick. He knew his wife’s body like the back of his hand and loved being in control of it. She was submissive to him because he deserved it. He could do whatever he wanted with her body because she trusted him that much.

“I love you too baby. Look at you wetting me up.” He created space between them, allowing her to look down and see her fluids that coated his dick.

“Hmm, you feel so good. I promise you’re the only one who makes me feel way.” She moaned.

“That’s how it better be. I’d hate to have to show you that I don’t play about you.” He gripped her neck and stuck his tongue in her mouth. The two of them fought for dominance as Monae came to her climax.

“I’m gonna cum baby.” She told him as she sunk her nails into his shoulder bracing herself.

“Go ahead, I got you.”

That was all she need to hear befor she released her fluids all over him and tried to catch her breath.

“Damn baby, don’t do that.” He hissed as she squeezed around him, releasing as much as she could.

“I can’t help it. She loves you too damn much.” She whispered against his lips making him smile as he carried her out to the balcony.

“Bend over.” He told her and immediately she did. She didn’t care that they were eight floors up and her head was spinning. She knew her man had her.

“Always so fucking wet.” He lined up with her opening before slamming inside of her, gripping her waist to hold her in place.

“Babe, hold on.” She held her hand out trying to adjust to him. You’d think after nine years she’d be used to him but the experience was different every time.

“Nah, don’t do that. You can handle it baby. I know you can.” He spoke softly as he grabbed her hand and used it as leverage to pound in and out of her.

“Mmmh, right there.” She moaned while arching her back, throwing it back on him just the way he liked it. She rested her face on the banister of the balcony and took all that he was giving her. In the nine years they’ve been tightest this was definitely one of the best birthdays she ever had.

“Babe.” She called out feeing her legs go numb but he already knew what time it was. He let go of her hand and used his strong arm to hold her body up a she pleasured her. He was so close to cumming and knew she was too.

“Shhh, I got you. You about to cum baby?” He asked as he gripped her hair and pulled her body closer to his. All Monae could do was nodded her head as tears rolled down her face. Her body was going into overdrive for this man and she loved every second of it.

“Mmhmm.” She nodded her head.

“Go ahead, I got you.” His words were like music to her ears because instantly she released all over him and he followed suit emptying all he could inside of her.

“Oh my god.” She breathed out as he held her body and moved her way from the balcony, lifting her into his arms so he could carry her back to the bedroom.

“Happy birthday baby.” He kisses her lips.

[godslove]

I'm always at my best, but in the times that I'm not, I know and I can trust that my God is able. He is my strength when I am weak. It's in my state of weakness that the Holy Spirit of God can work in me, that will carry me through. It's by the grace of God that:

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

—Phillipians 4:13

“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.”

—Romans 8:28

[sides-of-quotes]

Roman, on a laptop: Logan! I've been writing all day and I am stumped. Can you help me figure out how to end this story? Logan: Oh, I'd be happy to- ...Roman Roman: Yes? What is it? Logan: You have absolutely nothing written on here Roman: I might also need help with writing the middle and the beginning

[what-even-is-thiss]

The narrator, despite lacking a full sense of self could see into your mind for narrative purposes but unfortunately the author never finished this bit so neither you or the narrator had calmly winked out of existence after the end of the story yet so both of you are just stuck at this moment staring at a yellow crayon deciding what to do with it. Not that you can hear the narrator or anything but if you could the narrator might suggest that perhaps you are focusing too hard on whether or not the small memory attached to that crayon is worth holding onto and maybe you should just let it go. Perhaps the author should let you and the narrator go. Holding you here at the point of decision making isn’t doing anyone any good. The narrator was given unfortunate clarity about the state of your mind and can see that now. The narrator cannot fully understand why the author has held onto this idea for so long or how many different versions both you and the narrator have had over the years. Both you and the narrator and perhaps even the author don’t know what the significance of the yellow crayon you found while cleansing your room is but it sure feels important, doesn’t it? And because there are no readers currently the line between you, the narrator, and the author is quite blurry right about now. The decision about what to do with the last surviving broken crayon from your childhood 100 crayon crayola box is stuck in limbo between the three of us and at present there is no reader to fill in the gaps so there you are stuck on your bedroom floor and there the narrator is stuck in your head and there I am wondering where your indecision ends and mine begins.