⭐️NayNay⭐️ @mari3st4r - Tumblr Blog

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HI my name is Marie or Nay Nay and welcome my to my blog. I'm a black girl from Virginia and i'm studying to be a film producer and screen writer. I write for many characters such as Roman Reigns, Jey and Jimmy Uso, Jason Momoa, Seth Rollins ETC.

Don't ask for

SA, Pedophila, ETC.

If you want to ask me questions or send request go to SpidesWebbook!

My Universe!

Happy Reading!

#wwe #marvel #roman reigns smut #jason momoa smut #x black fem reader #seth rollins x reader #dc comics #fanfic #jey uso smut #jimmy uso #Spotify

blazebabe7

AFTER HOURS

Roman Reigns x fem!Reader

| Divider by @uzmacchiato

| INSPO: "Change" by Deftones!

WORDS: 3k

TW: filthy explicit smut with plot; dom-sub; unprotected sex; marking (scratches/bruises); emotional aftercare; dirty talk

The neon lights of the arena buzzed, a low, electric hum that matched the vibration in your chest. Backstage at SmackDown was always a chaotic labyrinth of production crates, rushing stagehands, and towering athletes, but tonight, the air felt heavier. Thicker. Main event over. Another successful title defense. Another night of Roman Reigns commanding the ring, leaving a trail of broken opponents in his wake. You stood outside his private locker room, a stack of media briefs clutched to your chest like a shield. As a senior brand manager for WWE, your job description was broad, but lately, it had narrowed down to one specific, exhausting, exhilarating task: managing the Tribal Chief.

You knocked—a firm, professional rap.

"Enter" a deep, rumbling voice call out from the other side. The sound of it did things to your lower stomach that you spent forty hours a week pretending didn't happen.

Pushing the heavy door open, you stepped into the dimly lit, spacious suite. Roman was sitting on a leather sofa in the center of the room. He was still in his wrestling gear, the red Ula Fala lei resting against his broad chest, his massive shoulders gleaming with a sheen of sweat and baby oil. Paul Heyman was nowhere to be seen; the Wiseman had clearly been dismissed early.

Roman didn't look up immediately. He was unwrapping the heavy athletic tape from his wrists, his thick, tattooed fingers moving with methodical precision.

"The digital numbers from the press conference are already breaking records" you started, your voice smooth, practicing the professional detachment you wore like armor. "And the merchandise revenue for the new 'Acknowledge Me' line is up thirty percent. I just need you to sign off on the media appearances for tomorrow morning's local radio—" "Stop."

The single word cut through the room. Roman finally raised his head. Those piercing, dark eyes locked onto yours, pinning you to the floor. The sheer, predatory gravity he held in the ring didn't switch off when the cameras stopped rolling. If anything, confined to a small room, it magnified.

"You're rambling" Roman said, his voice a low, gravelly purr. He tossed the crumpled tape onto the table in front of him. "And you're not looking at me."

"I am looking at you, Roman" you lied softly, your eyes darting from his chest back to your tablet.

"No. You're looking at your papers. You're hiding behind them." He stood up. All six-foot-three, two hundred and sixty-five pounds of him uncoiled from the sofa. The physical presence of the man was staggering.

As he walked toward you, the distance between your professional boundaries and your darkest fantasies dissolved with every step. He stopped just inches away. The scent of him—expensive cologne, sweat, leather, and raw, masculine heat—enveloped you.

"Look at me" he commanded softly. You swallowed hard, tilting your chin up. Your eyes met his. "Roman, we have a schedule—"

"I don't care about the schedule tonight" he murmured, reaching out. His large, calloused hand cupped the side of your neck. His thumb brushed over your jawline, his touch surprisingly gentle but dripping with an underlying promise of complete dominance. "I just spent thirty minutes out there taking what's mine. Do you know what kept me focused when the crowd was screaming?"

Your breath hitched. "What?"

"Knowing you were back here. Waiting for me." His hand shifted, his fingers tangling into your hair, tilting your head back just a fraction more. "Knowing that after I made them acknowledge me, I was coming back here to make you do the same."

The professional facade you had meticulously built over the last year shattered into dust. Your heart hammered against your ribs. "Roman... anyone could walk in. The crew, the boys—"

"The door is locked" he whispered, his gaze dropping to your lips. "And nobody interrupts the Tribal Chief. Nobody."

Before you could process the thrill shooting straight down your spine, Roman’s mouth slammed down onto yours.

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was an reclamation. A declaration of ownership. His lips were hot, demanding, parting yours with a possessive swipe of his tongue. You let out a soft gasp into his mouth, the brief clutched to your chest slipping from your fingers and scattering across the floor. You didn't care. Your hands immediately flew to his chest, your fingers digging into the hard, damp muscle of his pectorals, feeling the heavy, rapid thud of his heart.

Roman groaned, a deep, primal sound that vibrated against your teeth. He wrapped his other arm around your waist, lifting you effortlessly off your feet and pressing your back firmly against the heavy wooden door. The cold wood against your spine contrasted sharply with the inferno of his body pressed flush against yours.

He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down your jaw, his teeth biting gently at the sensitive skin of your neck, right where your pulse was racing wildly.

"God, you smell so good" he growled, his breath hot against your skin. "I've been watching you all week. Walking around in those tight skirts, looking at me with those eyes. You think you hide it well?" He nipped at your collarbone, making you arch your back, a soft whimper escaping your lips. "You don't. I see right through you."

"Roman, please" you gasped, your hands moving into his thick, damp hair, pulling him closer.

"Please what?" he murmured, sliding his hand down your hip, gripping the fabric of your pencil skirt and pulling it up, bunched around your waist. His large palm rested against the bare skin of your thigh, his heat searing into you. "Tell me what you want."

"You. I want you."

A dark, satisfied smirk spread across his handsome face. "Good."

In one swift, incredibly powerful motion, Roman hooked his hands under your thighs and hoisted you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, clinging to his broad shoulders for dear life. He carried you across the room, never breaking eye contact, and set you down on the edge of the massive executive desk. Papers, pens, and your laptop were carelessly shoved aside as he crowded into your space, parting your legs wider with his thighs.

He didn't waste any time. His hands found the waistband of your underwear, tearing the lace down your legs with a ruthless efficiency that made you wet your lips in anticipation. When his hand returned, his long fingers brushed against your core. You were already slick, completely unraveled by his touch. Roman let out a low, dark laugh. "Look at you. So wet for me." He slipped two fingers inside you, testing your heat, his thumb pressing hard against your clitoris.

You threw your head back, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk so tightly your knuckles turned white. "Roman—ah! Please."

He stroked you with a agonizingly slow, deliberate rhythm, stretching you out, teaching your body his pace.

"I told you before" he whispered, leaning down so his lips brushed your ear. "Out there, I belong to the world. But back here? In this room? You belong to me. Say it."

"I belong to you" you cried out, a sob of pure pleasure ripping from your throat as his fingers slid deeper, curling inside you, finding the exact spot that made your toes curl. "Roman, yes, right there—"

He withdrew his fingers abruptly, leaving you aching and empty, whimpering at the sudden loss. You opened your eyes to see him stepping back just enough to rid himself of his wrestling tights. When he freed himself, your breath caught. He was massive, thick, and fully erect, pulsing with a dark vein that promised absolute ruin in the best way possible.

He grabbed a foil packet from his gym bag on the couch, ripping it open with his teeth and rolling it on with practiced ease.

Then, he was back in your space. He grabbed your ankles, pulling you to the very edge of the desk, and lifted your legs onto his shoulders. The position left you completely exposed, vulnerable, and entirely at his mercy.

Roman looked down at you, his eyes dark with a terrifying, intoxicating lust. "Look at me while I take you" he commanded, his voice dropping an octave. "I want to see your face when you realize who owns you."

He aligned himself, his thick head pressing against your dripping entrance. He paused for one agonizing second, letting you feel the sheer size of him, before he pushed forward.

He slid into you in one deep, unyielding thrust.

You screamed, the sound echoing in the high-ceilinged room, your hands flying to his biceps as your body stretched to accommodate him. He filled you completely, hitting your cervix with a force that sent sparks behind your eyelids. It was a tight, intense stretch, so full it bordered on overwhelming, but the pleasure that followed was instantaneous.

"Fuck" Roman groaned, closing his eyes for a brief moment as your tight walls clamped around him like a vice. "You are so tight. So perfect." He began to move.

It was a heavy, punishing rhythm. Roman used his weight and his immense strength to drive himself into you, each thrust deep and relentless. The desk creaked beneath you with every impact, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud and filthy in the quiet room.

You could only gasp and cry out his name, completely consumed by the sensation of him stretching you, filling you to the absolute brim. Your hands moved from his biceps to his back, your nails digging into the elaborate Polynesian ink covering his right shoulder, leaving faint red marks. He didn't care; if anything, the sting only made him drive into you harder.

"Roman... oh my god, Roman, you're too big" you gasped, your head tossing from side to side.

"You can take it" he growled, changing the angle, lifting your hips higher off the desk so he could penetrate even deeper. "Take all of it for me."

The friction was unbelievable. Every time he pulled back, nearly withdrawing completely, you felt a whimpering sense of loss, only for him to plunge back in, burying himself to the hilt. You were completely overwhelmed by the sheer masculinity of him, the raw power of a man who ruled an industry, now completely focused on shattering your composure.

He leaned down, pinning your hands above your head with one of his massive hands, while the other braced against the desk beside your hip. He kissed you again, deeply, his tongue mimicking the brutal, beautiful rhythm of his hips. You tasted yourself on his lips, a heady, intoxicating mix that sent you over the edge. The coil of tension in your lower stomach tightened into a knot of pure fire. You were so close.

"Roman, I'm... I'm going to—"

"You can do it, sweetheart" he demanded against your mouth, his pace quickening, becoming faster, rougher. "Cum for me. Let me feel it."

With a few more devastating, deep thrusts, your body fractured. Your vision went white as a powerful, violent orgasm gripped your muscles, your inner walls convulsing around his thick shaft in tight, rhythmic waves. You cried out his name, your body trembling beneath him.

Hearing your release, seeing the absolute ecstasy on your face, broke Roman's control.

He let out a loud, guttural roar, his chest heaving as he delivered three final, incredibly hard thrusts, burying himself as deep as physically possible inside you. His body went rigid as his own climax hit him, a powerful tremor ripping through his massive frame as he spilled himself securely into the condom, filling you with his heat.

For a long minute, the only sound in the room was the heavy, ragged breathing of the two of you. Roman rested his forehead against yours, his chest rising and falling violently against your breasts. He slowly let your legs down from his shoulders, though he remained buried inside you, anchoring you both.

A slow, triumphant smile spread across his lips as he looked down at your flushed, completely spent face. He reached up, gently wiping a stray tear of pleasure from your cheek with his thumb.

"Acknowledge me" he whispered, his voice laced with a deep, affectionate warmth that was reserved only for you.

You let out a breathless, weak laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for a soft, lingering kiss. "Always" you murmured against his lips.

He slowly pulled out of you, the sudden emptiness making you sigh, and immediately set about cleaning both of you up with a towel from his bag. He helped you stand, your legs trembling so badly he had to catch you by the waist to keep you steady.

After you both got dressed—your clothes slightly wrinkled but passable—Roman walked back over to his couch, completely composed, as if he hadn't just thoroughly wrecked you on his desk. He picked up your media briefs from the floor, neatly stacking them together, and handed them back to you.

"Now" Roman said, that familiar, commanding smirk playing on his lips. "What were you saying about those radio appearances tomorrow morning?"

You took the papers, your heart full, a secret, wicked smile of your own forming. "Nothing the Tribal Chief can't handle."

You adjusted the media briefs in your arms, the crisp paper rustling as a subtle reminder of the world waiting just outside the heavy wooden door. But inside, the atmosphere had shifted from chaotic intensity to a profound, lingering warmth.

Roman stepped closer, the sharp edges of his corporate and in-ring persona melting away to reveal the man beneath. He reached out, his large hand gently clasping yours, grounding you. "The local radio can wait until 7:00 AM" Roman murmured, his voice a low, soothing vibration. He looked down at you, his dark eyes soft but entirely focused. "Right now, the only thing on the schedule is getting out of here."

A small, genuine smile broke across your face, the professional mask completely forgotten. "I think the brand manager can approve a brief delay for the Tribal Chief."

"Good." Roman let out a soft laugh, a sound of pure contentment that very few people ever had the privilege to hear.

He moved over to the sofa, tossing his gear bag over his shoulder with effortless grace. When he returned to your side, he didn't care about the corporate boundaries or the frantic backstage rush occurring just down the hall. He wrapped a heavy, protective arm around your waist, pulling you securely against his side as he reached for the doorknob.

Before turning it, he paused, leaning down to press a quiet, lingering kiss against your forehead. It was a silent seal on the unspoken bond between you—a partnership built on absolute trust and mutual respect, hidden in plain sight from the rest of the world.

"Let's go home" he whispered against your skin. With a definitive click, the locker room door swung open.

You stepped out together into the bustling arena corridors, moving through the maze of production crates as a united front, ready to conquer whatever tomorrow brought.

allthingswhumpyandangsty

Yall ever blocked someone bc they annoy you too much by being too parasocial?

like bro why are you mad that someone has a boyfriend/girlfriend or husband/wife, then saying you’re not writing for them anymore bc of that?

It's getting crazy out here man 😒

#parasocial behavior #x reader #rant post

writingdose

nondelphic

i love making playlists for my book. one day i may even write the book.

The Visonary (Seth Rollins au) (The Boys AU)

Coming soon at least.

After a lot of consideration after rewatching the boys and after watching the final season and still not over my Seth Rollins Crush. Im now writing a fic about Seth Rollins x OC!reader in the Boys universe.

Lord please give me strength while writing this...

Seth powers

I think of his powers being a mind reader (telepathy) and being able to destroy minds by making the brain explode by too much fear...

While also having telekinesis and being able to levitate objects and people.

Valentina Bellair Rollins (face claim Laura Harrier)

Who is or was married to Seth (we will get into that in the story)

Her powers is mixed with Emmas on GenV and Allison Hargreeves on The Umbrella academy.

Being able to control minds telling the person what to do and reveal their deepest secrets and telling them with one simple word.

And also allowing a person to go into her mind and being able to see her thoughts and what shes thinking.

Cast (idk yet)

Masterlist

Playlist (more song will be added on later)

Taglist

#seth rollins x black oc #seth rollins fanfic #wwe raw #seth rollins smut #the boys #homelander #black oc #oc #x black reader

The Visionary Matserlist

I want this to be at least five chapters that are long but I'll probably do more or make a second series.

Summary: The Visionary, The Whisperer and homelander…. Are the big three of the six. With The Visionary and The whisperer being married they’re unstoppable.

They were at least what changed?

Warnings: Mentions of rape, Smut, 18+, mental episodes, Seth Rollins being a menace to society with homelander.

One

Two

Three

Four

Five