The Proposition Part 3 (Roman Reigns X Female Reader)
Title: The Proposition
Summary: When Y/N goes through a nasty breakup due to her morals, she makes a very out of character, for her, move when she halfway accepts a proposition from a complete stranger. They spend an evening together and make a connection like they’ve never known. And when dawn comes and it’s time to say goodbye, Roman and Y/N find that one night together was just not nearly enough for them.
Pairing: Roman Reigns X Female Reader
Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.
Content/Trigger Warnings: Mature themes, violence against men and women.
The Proposition
Part 3:
You came to.
Groggily.
Only to face blackness.
You were in the pitch dark and had no way to see where you actually were.
Pausing a moment, you took stock of where you were lying. You heard gravel crunching underneath you. The floor you were lying on was scratchy. Not as soft as carpet. You were evidently in the trunk of a car. You quickly felt around for the trunk release latch.
“It has to be here,” You told yourself, frantically searching for it. Unless…
Unless you were in an older model car. You weren’t sure when cars started being made with the trunk release latches for purposes such as this, but it was in the 2000’s sometime, you were sure.
You kept searching, too desperate to give up. Your hands fell on a piece of cable and a plastic handle–you’d found it!
Frantically, you gave it a yank, but nothing happened. You tried again, and still the trunk lid would not pop open.
Brad had damaged the latch, or disabled it somehow. Of course, he had thought to do that.
You tried kicking out a taillight, but all you managed to do was stub your toes really hard.
You fought back a sob and tried not to panic. To no avail. But you kept it together somehow. You had to or you’d never get out of this mess.
You knew Amy would somehow get free and get help, but you didn’t know how long that would take, and the police would have no idea where you were. You didn't even know where you were, or where you were being taken.
If only I had my purse, you thought. My pepper spray was in it. You could be ready as Brad opened the trunk and spray him right in the face. But that was impossible now. He clearly knew what he was doing. How long had he had this plan?
The car came to a sudden stop, and your breath hitched in your throat, and then came in brief snatches. Should you feign being unconscious still? Should you try to punch him in the face when he wasn’t expecting it?
With a new-found desperation you felt around the floor of the trunk for a weapon. Anything hard that would serve as a club or something. But no such luck. Brad had cleaned the trunk out, apparently.
There was the sound of a key grinding into a keyhole and then the trunk was opened. You had no time to do anything as Brad reached down toward you and grabbed a hank of your hair, forcing you up and out of the trunk. You cried out at the searing pain to your head.
“Shut up, whore!” You were slapped and he yanked you up against him, grinning maniacally down into your face. He bent down and latched his mouth across yours in a horrible excuse for a kiss.
Instantly, you brought your knee up into his groin, and as he bent over to grab his crotch and yell out in pain, you took off.
It was dark and raining outside, but you could tell as you ran, that you were surrounded by woods. And there was a cabin. A cabin that you knew to stay away from. That’s where he was bringing you, you knew it. So you had to stay away from it. You knew if you set foot in that cabin with Brad, you were as good as dead–or worse.
You ran. And you ran. And you ran. Fighting for breath and energy, you ran through the trees, and brush, and over fallen logs as fast as your legs would carry you.
Suddenly, you heard a loud pop. Followed by another and another. By the time you realized you were being shot at, a searing pain hit you in the shoulder and only an instant later you heard another pop. You were thrown to the ground by the force of the bullet. But there was no time to stop and rest. You climbed to your feet despite the pain in your right shoulder, and took off running again, though much slower this time around.
You suddenly stepped on thin air and dropped to the ground. Frantically looking behind you, you had fallen from a drop-off in the ground, a cliff of sorts. You scrambled back, trying to ignore the pain in your shoulder, and huddled underneath the cliff hoping you were well-hidden in the dark.
You hoped that Brad would give up on you and then you could somehow get out of the woods and find the main road. From there you would try flagging someone down to help you.
But somehow, you knew that Brad was not going to give up. He knew that if you got help he’d be in big trouble. You froze then, and realization dawned.
“He’s going to kill me.”
He wouldn’t want you to get help because he’d spend his life in prison. He was going to rape you and kill you afterward.
You sobbed, and hugged your knees closer to your chest. A sharp pain engulfed your shoulder and you sobbed again. “Please, someone… Come looking for me,” you whispered to yourself. You hoped against hope that Amy was able to get free and find help.
You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but a sudden crackle of twigs on the ground being stepped on woke you.
You huddled silently, hoping that if it was Brad he would go away and think you’d run the other direction.
“Y/N? Baby girl?”
Your head shot up at that. You’d know that velvety voice anywhere even though it had been three long months since you’d last heard it. Why was he here, looking for you? How did he know where to look?
“Roman?”
You gingerly stood to your feet and walked toward his voice. “Roman?”
There was no one here. Certainly not Roman. You must have just dreamed of his voice.
Now, you wanted to cry. Not only would you give anything to see him again, but to think he’d come to your rescue, only to find out he hadn’t… It was too much.
You covered your face with your hands and sobbed. “Roman…”
You didn’t know how long you stood there, sobbing, but apparently it was long enough for Brad to find you, because he suddenly latched onto the arm of your wounded shoulder. You shrieked in pain and struggled against him. You earned a hard punch to the jaw for your trouble. Stunned, you would have fallen to the ground if he’d not held you up. He stooped down and lifted you over his shoulder and began carrying you. You could only assume he was heading for the cabin.
You wanted to fight. You really did. But your head–it hurt so badly now. And your right arm was heavy and useless.
“Help me, please…” you whimpered to no one in particular.
You heard Brad snicker. “There’s no one around here for miles, doll. You’re all mine.”
He’d reached the cabin then because you saw as he climbed the steps to the porch. “Please, let me go…”
“Not a chance.”
He carried you into the cabin, and seemed to know exactly where he was going. Was this cabin his? Or had he broken into it and merely learned the floor plan? You were tossed unceremoniously onto a bed, and immediately your left wrist was pinned above your head and cuffed to the head of the bed. Then he took your right wrist and proceeded to be a little extra rough with it, seeing as it was your bullet-wounded side. You cried out and tried to struggle, but all you got out of the struggle was a slap to the face and a punch to the stomach to immobilize you.
While you were trying to get some air into your lungs, Brad cuffed your remaining wrist and then began working on your ankles. You kicked him in the face, and he grew angry–pulled out his gun and pointed it at you. “Do you want another bullet? Do you?”
You immediately froze. You already had one gunshot wound that hurt like nothing you’d ever felt before. You didn’t want another one.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, and proceeded to cuff your ankles to the foot of the bed. “I have two bullets left. One for each of us. I wouldn’t want to use them too soon.” He pulled out a pair of shears, and snapped the scissors in your face with a chuckle before moving them down to the hem of your waitress uniform.
“You're sick, Brad.” The words slipped out before you could stop them. But it was the truth. This was a sick, sick man.
“Maybe I am. But I’m going to give you a good test drive before I die, so think on that, baby.” He began cutting upward on your dress and exposing you completely, save for your bra and panties.
You tugged on your cuffed ankles and wrists, to no avail. The cuffs were too tight to free yourself. You weren’t going anywhere.
Brad laughed. “Here, I’ll even let you hold the key to the cuffs. And I’ll make you a deal. If you can get your wrists close enough together to unlock the cuffs, you can go free.”
He put the key in your hand and tried to watch with a straight face as you strained your arms, trying to bring them close enough together for the key to reach. But he’d cuffed your hands far enough apart on the headboard that there was no way to reach one hand to the other. You sobbed, and strained even harder, cutting your wrists in the process. You could feel blood sliding down your arms.
“Wow, you’re desperate to get out of here, huh?” Brad laughed, and spoke again, “You can hold on to the key while I make love to you. Then you can die with it in your hand. I want you to die knowing the literal key to freedom was in your hand the whole time.”
“You won’t get away with this.”
“I don’t plan to. I plan to die alongside you, baby. I’ll have you forever in eternity.”
“You’re truly twisted!”
He reached down and dug his finger into your bullet wound. The scream that tore from your lips was something you’d never heard before. The pain… it was… unbearable.
You passed out almost immediately, meeting pure, sweet blackness.
}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{
“Are you sure you know the way to this cabin you were telling me about,” Roman asked, pressing his foot down harder on the gas pedal.
“Y-yes. I watched where he took me. It’s down this highway a few more miles. Then turn to the right,” Amy replied. “Please, go faster!”
He didn't have to be told twice. Roman gunned the engine and flew down the highway, not particularly caring if a cop tried to stop him or not. Maybe they’d get the police on the right track if they did stop him.
“So tell me what happened,” Roman said as he drove. “I need to know.”
“I was getting off work and he was waiting for me out by my car. He told me that he had Hayley and Y/N and if I didn’t come with him… I’d never see them alive again. So, I went with him. That’s when he took me to the cabin and tied me up. I asked him where the girls were, and he just laughed. Said that I fell for his trick and if I didn’t do as he said, Y/N would pay dearly.”
“So he just held you there for several hours,” Roman clarified. “He didn’t hurt you?”
“No. He hit me once for struggling against him, but no, other than that, he didn’t hurt me.”
“Y/N tried to help me,” Amy went on, needing to get it all off her chest. “But he… He slapped her and then even when she agreed to go with him to keep him from hurting me, he hit her in the head with the butt of his gun.”
Roman didn’t know what to say. He was angry that Y/N had been treated in such a barbaric manner. “He’ll pay,” he promised. Roman looked over at Amy then. “He’ll pay. I swear it.”
There was a long silence, and Roman couldn’t stand it. It made him think too much.
“Talk to me,” he said to Amy; his voice getting more deeply pitched with his worry. “I can’t be thinking about what he’s doing to her. Tell me how you three met.”
“We met online. On a blog site called Tumblr. Y/N and I started talking about The Walking Dead one night, and we hit it off from there. Then Y/N and Hayley started talking on Tumblr and X–at the time, Twitter, and they hit it off. Then Y/N introduced me and Hayley and we almost instantly became best friends.
Roman chuckled in spite of himself. “Y/N did tell me she was an internet junkie. So how long have y’all been close?”
“About eight years, I think.”
“That’s a long time.”
Amy nodded. “It is.” She looked over at him. “We’ll find her, right?”
“Yes.”
“This is the right turn!”
Barely making the turn, Roman flung the steering wheel to the right and turned down a dirt road.
“Take this road for about two miles and the cabin is on the left side of the road.”
“Okay,” Roman pressed harder on the gas and was easily going seventy to eighty miles per hour on the old dirt road. He hoped no one got in his way, they’d be a sitting duck if they did, because he was not stopping. Not for anything.
“You can see the driveway from here,” Amy said, pointing ahead off to the left.
Roman floored it. “Hang on, tight.”
Amy grasped at the dashboard and and the arm rest and indeed held on while Roman gunned the rental as hard as it would go.
They reached the driveway in seconds and Roman skidded to a stop.
“I need you to stay here.”
“No! I’m coming with you!”
“I can’t protect both of you at the same time,” Roman told Amy. “I need you to stay here. Get the police called and wait here for them. There’s no time to argue,” he said, getting out of the car. “Just do as I say!”
He turned and ran for the cabin and as soon as he reached the door, he tested it, and was surprised that it opened with no issues. Instantly, he decided to be quiet and catch Brad by surprise. He couldn’t afford to go in with guns ablazing and cause Y/N to get more hurt than she already was.
He crept down a long hallway and glanced in each room till he came to one that had a flurry of motion in it. A man, on top of a woman.
On a bed.
Brad. Y/N.
Brad is on top of my woman, “ Roman thought, seeing red.
Just red.
He noted that Y/N wasn’t screaming or moving or anything as he lunged in a suicide dive and tackled Brad away from her. He punched the man over and over in the kidneys, the liver, the head, anywhere he could reach. Finally, the guy seemed out cold enough, and Roman stood to his feet and sat on the edge of the bed that Y/N was on. He had the urge to immediately take her into his arms, but he knew he could frighten her worse if he did. So, he calmly took in the state of her well-being. Noting that she was tied to the bed in just her under garments, he seethed.
He actually cuffed her wrists and ankles to the bed. His blood boiled as he scanned the area for a possible key to free her with. He saw none. And he was not skilled in picking a lock, let alone four of them.
Worried over her condition, he moved up on the bed a ways and gently ran his finger down her bruised cheek, assessing the damage that was done to her.
Her forehead was dotted with sweat and her skin felt cold and clammy to the touch. She was clearly in shock. “Baby girl,” he whispered, his voice rumbling in his throat. “Sweetheart,” he said a little louder. “Wake up for me, honey.” Then his eyes fell on the wound at her shoulder. Obviously a gunshot wound.
“He shot you?”
She jolted slightly, and managed to come to a bit. A pained moan passed her lips.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Wake up for me.”
“R-Roman…?”
}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{
You felt a slight pang of pain at your cheek as you came awake. It felt as if a finger was tenderly tracing the bruises on your face.
That can’t be right, you thought. There was nothing tender about Brad. You fought off a cry of pain. Everything hurt.
“He shot you?”
You jumped slightly at the accusation in the tone of voice. And then you recognized that beautiful voice.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Wake up for me.”
“R-Roman…?”
You turned your head slightly and winced, managed to open your eyes a little. Roman was sitting on the edge of the bed you were cuffed to and he looked angry. But not at you. There was only tenderness in his eyes when he looked at you.
“Yeah, baby girl, it’s Roman. I’m here, honey.” He eyed your wounded wrists and ankles and you could tell he was having trouble keeping himself from losing it. “Do you happen to know where the key is, baby?”
“In my hand,” you whispered hoarsely. “I need it though.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I wake up. I need it. To get free. He said if I could manage to unlock myself, he’d let me go.”
“Honey, you are awake,” he told you, cupping your face in his large hand. “I promise.”
You shook your head and a tear spilled down your temple. “No,” you sobbed. “I’m dreaming you again. I have to be.”
“I’ll prove I’m real, Y/N. Just…” he reached for the key in your hand. “Just give me the key, sweetheart.”
With a soft sob, you released the key and let Roman take it. WIthin a minute, he had your wrists free, then your ankles. You cried out softly as he removed the cuffs. They’d dug into your skin due to being too tight.
Roman inspected your wounds. Thankfully they didn’t look or feel too deep–they shouldn’t need stitches.
“You’re gonna be okay, baby. I promise.”
You nodded weakly. And managed to sit up on the bed with Roman’s help.
“Did he…?” Roman started, unsure of how to ask the question. He eyed your cut uniform dress. “Did he…?”
You knew what he wanted to know. “No. He was going to. And then he was going to kill me and committ suicide. He said I’d be his for all eternity.” It was absurd, but so frightening to think about. You fell into Roman’s arms and sobbed. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Believe it,” he told you. “I’ll never leave you again. Not ever.”
“DIE! BOTH OF YOU!”
Brad lunged up out of the floor suddenly, and attacked Roman. He pulled his gun out of his pants and aimed it at Roman. It fired, and merely scraped Roman’s bicep. He grunted in pain, but didn’t take the time to acknowledge the fire blooming up his arm.
“NO!”
You screamed with a newfound energy as you watched Brad aim the gun at Roman’s chest. You dove and grabbed at the gun, determined that it would not fire and hit the man you’d somehow quickly fallen for. You grabbed hold of the gun and tried to wrestle it away from Brad, but he had an iron-clad grip on it as well.
“Y/N! NOO!” Roman roared the warning and lunged toward the both of you, but it was too late.
In your weakened state, Brad lowered the gun to your abdomen and fired.
Wet fire bloomed across your stomach, and a look of disbelief crossed your face. A whimper passed your lips and then you managed to whisper weakly, a tremble in your voice:
“You only shot me. You didn’t kill Roman.”
“NO!” Roman roared again, and dove to your side as you crumpled. He caught you and eased you down to the floor.
“God, baby, why? Why did you do that?” Roman demanded, holding you closely.
“Because… you’re everything… to me…”
You felt yourself weakening, but he had to know the truth. “I know its… too fast… But, I l-love…you.”
“I love you,” Roman said softly. “Don’t leave me, Y/N. Stay with me. Don’t you dare leave me.”
You weakly lifted your hand, placed it on his face. He held it there for you. “I don’t want to leave you… but…”
“No buts. You can’t leave me. Not now. Not ever.”
“So… Sorry…”
Your hand fell away then, and you went completely limp in his arms. Your eyes closed and your head fell to the side…
}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{
“NOO! NO! NO!” Roman tilted his head up and howled a war cry that was both mournful and full of fury.
Brad had watched the whole display with a smirk on his face.
Until the large Samoan’s black eyes glittered, and settled on him.
“You’re dead,” Roman said calmly.
Too calmly.
Brad began to back up, but what he didn’t realize was that Amy had run inside after hearing the gunshots. She snuck up behind him with a tire iron in her hands, and shot it straight up between his legs.
Brad made a strange sound, almost as if he was inhaling and exhaling at the same time. And hunched forward to grab his crotch, when Roman raced forward and grabbed him into his guillotine submission hold. But instead of merely rendering him unconscious, he pulled harder on his neck until he heard a satisfying CRACK.
Brad’s limp body fell to the floor then, and Amy gasped and paled, turned away, and instantly dropped down beside Y/N. “Oh my God…”
She felt for her pulse at her neck, and sobbed. “Roman, she’s alive! She has a pulse!”
Roman crouched down on the other side of Y/N and felt for her pulse also. He had to know for sure. He was afraid to believe Amy without seeing for himself.
His fingers brushed over her neck in search of a steady thump. Instead he found a ragged, thready pulse. But it was a pulse nonetheless.
“Y/N…” He nearly sobbed her name in relief.
“The police and an ambulance were dispatched,” Amy said softly. “They should be here any-”
And at that moment, like a Godsend, police came rushing into the room and a pair of paramedics instantly began working on Y/N. The police surrounded Brad’s body, and dispatched for a coroner.
Within minutes, the paramedics had Y/N hooked up to an IV, and situated on a gurney with a pressure bandage on her abdomen. They began rolling her out of the house and both Roman and Amy followed close behind, preparing to ride with her. They’d agreed to give their statements to the police at the hospital.
Roman held Y/N’s hand the whole way, urging the ambulance driver to hurry up, while Amy was on the phone with Hayley, telling her what hospital to meet them at.
They finally exited the forest and came to the highway that Roman had sped down no more than an hour before. The ambulance’s siren was blaring and Roman and Amy were both thankful that the other driver’s were courteous enough to get out of the emergency vehicle’s way.
Once the ambulance made it back into the city, they sped for Mount Sinai Hospital.
When they arrived, the staff immediately rolled Y/N back to the operating room and began prepping her for surgery to remove the bullets from her.
Roman was taken back to be stitched up from the bullet’s graze he’d suffered. He didn’t care about it in the least. He only wanted to see Y/N alive and well.
Once he was done with getting his wound treated, he went back to the waiting room and spotted Amy and Hayley sitting together. He went and sat next to them, but remained silent. He couldn’t think of anything but Y/N.
After what seemed like several hours, but in actuality wasn’t but a couple, a female doctor came into the room and asked for Amy and Hayley–seeing as they were Y/N’s emergency contacts.
They and Roman stood and made their way to the doctor.
“How is she,” the women asked anxiously. Hayley rubbed her arms, a habit she’d developed ever since Brad had started stalking Y/N.
“I’m Doctor Smith. Y/N is in the recovery room as of right now. We removed two bullets; one from her shoulder and one from her liver. We had to do a resectioning–which means we cut away the damaged part of the liver. It will grow back in time.”
“Is she going to be okay,” Roman demanded, he was practically pacing like a caged animal and looking very worried.
“I look for her to fully recover, yes,” the doctor said kindly, seeming to realize that Roman was on edge. “She will be put in the Intensive Care Unit for a couple of days and we will see how she does. If she does well enough, I’ll move her to a regular room until I see that she’s well enough to be discharged.”
“We want to see her,” he said. His facial expression left no room for argument.
“Alright, as soon as we get her settled in an ICU room, we will come get you and let you all see her, but only for a few minutes at first. She needs her rest.”
About a half hour later, Roman, Amy and Hayley were all escorted back to the ICU room that Y/N was in. They were again warned that they could only see her for a little bit and they were left to visit with her while she slept.
The women talked to Y/N and told her everything was going to be okay, and held her hands, while Roman hung back and let the best friends have a few moments. Then they decided to hang out in the hallway so Roman could have some alone time with her. They knew by the distressed look on his face, that he needed the time with her.
He took hold of her hand in his large one and tried to gently wake her. He needed so desperately to see her eyes on his face again.
“Sweetheart? Can you hear me?”
She whimpered in her sleep and her brows drew together as she twitched.
“Shh, you’re safe now. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
The Proposition Part 2 (Roman Reigns X Female Reader)
Title: The Proposition
Summary: When Y/N goes through a nasty breakup due to her morals, she makes a very out of character, for her, move when she halfway accepts a proposition from a complete stranger. They spend an evening together and make a connection like they’ve never known. And when dawn comes and it’s time to say goodbye, Roman and Y/N find that one night together was just not nearly enough for them.
Pairing: Roman Reigns X Female Reader
Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.
Content/Trigger Warnings: Mature themes, but no graphic detail.
The Proposition
Part 2:
You walked into Gary’s Cafe, and nearly cringed at seeing Brad waiting for you in a booth. The instant he heard the bell clang over the door he looked up and his emerald gaze found you immediately.
“Great,” You muttered under your breath. “This is all I need.”
“Y/N… Where have you been? I’ve tried calling you. I went by your place last night and you weren’t home…”
“I had my phone turned off. And I was-” You stopped suddenly. Realization dawning on you “It’s none of your business where I was, Brad. We’re through. You need to get that through your head. You were the one to dump me, remember?”
“I told you, that was a mistake. I don’t want to break up with you.”
“Well, I could care less. I-”
He took your arm much like he had last night, but with a bit more caution. He tugged you into the kitchen so you could discuss things more privately.
“You’re not allowed back here,” you hissed.
“What were you doing with that guy last night?” He demanded. “Did you sleep with him?”
“I don’t like your audacity, Brad. Again, it’s none of your business- OW!”
He squeezed your arm painfully. Fire bloomed up your forearm where he gripped you, and then he growled in your ear, “Be quiet, or I’ll snap your arm. Right here, right now.”
“Let go of me,” you said quietly, glaring into his green eyes. “This is OVER.”
“We’ll see about that, baby. We’ll see about that.” He finally released your arm and stalked back out of the kitchen and sailed out the building’s exit as if he owned the place.
“What next,” you wondered out loud, taking a look at the kitchen. Gary was nowhere in sight. Probably on a smoke break outside. He wouldn’t have let Brad treat you in such a way if he’d seen what had happened. But he wasn’t around at the moment. And the other waitress that was helping you with the breakfast rush had been busy with orders while the abuse had gone on.
No witnesses. Just great.
Too bad Roman wasn’t around, because it sounded as if Brad wasn’t going to give up on you so easily.
At the thought of Roman, you fought tears. And groaned. “I’m supposed to be forgetting about him,” you thought aloud. “He has probably already forgotten about the chick that didn’t even have the courage to have a full one-night stand with him.”
Regret filled your heart. If only…
If only you’d gone through with it, you might have some really good memories to feast on, instead of just a few stolen kisses to remember. Though those were nice to think on as well.
You sighed dejectedly, and got to work taking breakfast orders.
By the time your shift was over in the afternoon, you were exhausted. You’d been on your feet for several hours straight, and you’d gone non-stop trying to forget both Roman and Brad. Each for a different reason, but so be it.
You clocked out before someone asked you to stay longer, and took off your apron in the kitchen–began counting up your tips.
Not too bad, considering it was only a few hours.
You grabbed your purse out of your locker and stuffed the money into your checkbook till you could put it in your tip jar at home.
You kept your tips in a large jar, and then deposited them into your bank account about once a month, so you could add to your income that way.
Tugging your purse onto your shoulder, you called out goodbye to Gary, and then headed out to the parking lot. It had a few cars on it, but most of them were empty due to the patrons being inside the cafe. You glanced over to your car, and stopped in your tracks.
Brad was waiting, leaned up against your driver’s side door, so you couldn’t escape him.
For a moment, you were tempted to go and get Gary. But you didn't. You didn’t wish to drag anyone else into your problems.
“What do you want,” you asked, reaching your car.
“I want to take you to a late lunch,” Brad said, brushing his hand over his short-cropped brown hair.
“Well, I don’t want to go to lunch with you. I want to go home and have a nap.”
You started to nudge him out of your way to get into your car, but he was planted where he was.
“Listen, I’m sorry things went down the way they did,” Brad tried to sound regretful, but you could see through his facade. “How about we just get a bite and talk for a bit. Then you could go home and take your nap?”
“Brad…. There is nothing to talk about. I’m trying to explain this so you understand. When you dumped me simply because I wouldn’t sleep with you, that showed me what kind of man–or boy–you are. I don’t find that attractive in the least. I do not want to stay together with you.”
You thought, briefly, that you’d gotten through to him, until he smirked cockily at you.
“If you’d give me just five minutes, you’d want to sleep with me.”
You rolled your eyes at him, “Okay, that’s enough. Let me get into my car.”
“Is it because of that guy last night?”
For an instant you thought about telling him the truth, that you’d not slept with Roman. But A) it was none of his business. And B) you could use it to your advantage.
“Yeah, okay? It is because of Roman. He showed me things that you couldn’t even dream of!”
You understood your mistake when the snarl crossed Brad’s face. “I gave you three months of my life–three months! And you couldn’t even give me a- You were with him for one single night and you slept with him?
He was practically frothing at the mouth as he yelled at you. Then he lunged forward and grabbed you by the throat.
“How dare you, you little whore!”
You struggled in his hold, and fought to free yourself. “Let go of me!” You choked out.
To your surprise, he released your throat and glared down at you. “Mark my words, Y/N. You’ll be mine. Mine.”
He walked over to his huge pickup truck and climbed in, and drove away, leaving you shaken to your core.
Shuddering, and on the verge of tears, you got into your car and sped straight for home.
}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{
“Why don’t you somehow get her number, and call her, Uce?”
Many days had passed since Roman had dropped Y/N off at her condo, and he’d left her. A month to be exact.
I left her, he thought to himself. How could I leave her after the way she looked at me? Like I was the only man for her?
“Ro? You okay?”
Jimmy and Jey prodded him to talk, but he didn’t want to. So he simply said, “I gave her my number, and she hasn’t called,” as he tied the laces on his wrestling boots. “Besides, I’m not into relationships right now.”
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Jimmy said, squeezing his wife’s hand. “I thought the same thing about myself, and then Naomi came along.”
“This isn’t what you and Naomi have,” Roman denied, standing to his feet. “It was nothing.”
“Yeah ‘nothing’ is stretched tightly across your face,” Jey said, rolling his eyes. “It was nothing,” he mocked.
“Oh, shut up,” Roman growled, stalking from the room. He loved his cousins but sometimes, they expected him to confide in them like they were all a bunch of school girls from the old sitcom, Saved By the Bell.
Heading down the hall to the gorilla position, he took a few minutes to think of her though. He missed her, plain and simple. She’d made a special place in his heart, just by sharing one night with him. And they hadn’t done anything but talk and make out a little bit. He could only imagine what it would be like right now, if they’d followed through with their one night stand.
He remembered the soft touches. The taste of her lips. He’d come so close to having her. All of her. And all to himself.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her. To the point that his matches weren’t going as well as he wanted. She consumed his every thought. He was even contemplating a relationship with her, if she’d have him. He felt so unworthy of her. That was part of the problem. She was so pure, and innocent and refreshing. She was the type of woman who didn’t want sex, she wanted to make love. And he actually wanted that too. With her. And only her.
He shook his head when his music boomed out. And he got himself in the zone then. He had to forget about her. At least for now.
He walked out to a huge crowd in St. Petersburg and pandered to them all. Prompting them to acknowledge him by pointing his finger at the sky. He wasn’t disappointed. The majority of the people did the same.
He looked at his opponents in the ring: L.A. Knight, Randy Orton and AJ Styles, and knew that he was going to be banged up after this match. But it would be worth it. They would put on one amazing show for the fans, of that he was certain. He took his time getting to the ring and climbing into the squared circle. Then he played up to the crowds some more and confidently handed his belt over to the referee while patiently waiting for Samantha Irvine to make the introductions…
}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{
2 Months Later…
“Are you sure you want to go in today, Y/N.” Amy asked softly, as you pulled a brush through your hair and secured the long waves up into a ponytail. “I mean, what if Brad ambushes you yet again?” Hayley nodded her agreement, her brown eyes flashing in anger.
You smiled gently at your best friends and reassured them. “I have to work, girls. There’s no way around it. I’ll be fine. He’s actually been staying away pretty well lately. He’s just…sick is all. He’s only doing stuff like sending me flowers–as if that’s really gonna win me over.” You laughed and tried to play it off as no big deal. But the truth was you were frightened. After Brad had tried to choke you in the cafe’s parking lot, he’d shown up at your condo a little later, apologizing profusely for his behavior and vowing to make it up to you. You’d promptly told him to go away. That you didn’t want to see him ever again. But he just kept asking for you to give him one more chance as he backed away and left your condo.
“Just one more chance, Y/N.” He turned and left before you could even respond to him.
You had no intention of giving him one more chance. You just wanted him to go away and leave you alone. But you were so afraid he wouldn’t. If only Roman was around.
You froze. It wasn’t the first time you’d had that thought, but you wished it would go away too. Roman wasn’t coming back for you. It’d been about three months since he’d left you. If he was going to show up and come to your rescue he would have done it by now.
“What? What’s wrong?”
You turned to Hayley and saw a look of concern on her face at your tensing up. “I’m fine. Just a little nervous is all.” You rolled your neck and shoulders a bit trying to loosen up some of the tension in your muscles. “Just… If he was to show up here… Look out the peephole, and if it’s him do NOT go to the door. Please.”
Amy nodded, “Okay. Don’t worry. We’ll be fine,” she said, giving you a hug.
“I’m sorry to drag y’all into my mess,” you said, hugging Amy back, and then Hayley. “If I’d known he was such a psycho, I’d never have gone out with him.”
“It’s not your fault,” the girls said in unison.
“He is the one with the problem, not you,” Hayley added.
You nodded, “I know, but if anything ever happened to one of you because of me…”
“Shh,” Amy shushed you and rubbed your shoulder affectionately. “Nothing’s going to happen to us. And it wouldn’t be because of you, either.”
A tear spilled over your cheek and you groaned as you rolled your eyes. “I cry so easily anymore. I’m sorry.” You wiped at your tears and picked up your purse, preparing to leave for work. “I’ve got to get going. Just be safe, ladies. Please.”
“We’ll be fine. Now go, and you be safe too,” Hayley said, patting your back.
You nodded, and headed out the door. Within a couple of minutes you had your car started and were heading to work.
}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{
“Alice, your order for table nine is ready to go!” Gary called out and placed the plates of food up on the counter so Alice could pick them up and deliver them to said table.
You were on lobby duty, which meant wiping down vacated tables and collecting your tips, when another couple of customers walked into the cafe. She and her date sat down at a booth and waited for you to bring them some menus and cutlery.
“Hi guys, I’m Y/N and I’ll be your waitress for this evening. What can I get you to drink?”
“Coke for me,” said the blond girl.
“Dr. Pepper for me,” said her date, a tallish young guy with dark hair.
“Coming right up,” you told them with a smile and headed for the drink station.
You were filling their glasses when your cell phone vibrated in your apron pocket. Quickly, you glanced at it to make sure it wasn’t just a spam call.
Amy?
That was weird. The girls never called you during work hours. Instantly worried, you answer the cell phone.
“Amy? What’s wrong?”
“Y/N! Don’t come out! It’s a trap! Get-”
Suddenly, her voice was muffled, but you could hear her still trying to scream. You felt yourself pale at the frantic sound of your best friend’s voice.
“Amy? Amy, what’s wrong??”
“Get out here to the dumpster if you want to see her alive again.”
Brad’s voice. He had Amy!
“I mean it Y/N. I’ll kill her.”
“Okay. I’m coming.”
You hung up and instantly began gathering up the waste basket’s trash bag so you’d have a logical reason to be going outside and not call any attention to yourself. You tugged the bag from the basket and carried it outside, walking toward the dumpster. You shook as you walked, and not just because of the chill in the air. You stumbled over a large crack in the concrete and nearly went down on your trembling knees. Finally, you reached the dumpster and looked around it. You didn’t see anyone. You dropped the bag of trash and left it sitting on the pavement as you started to investigate.
“We’re behind the dumpster,” came Brad’s voice. “Come to me, Y/N. Or she dies.”
Quickly, you walked around the dumpster, and spotted Amy immediately. She was sitting on the concrete, leaned up against the dumpster and tied up at the wrists and ankles. Tape was over her mouth, her eyes wide with fright.
“Amy!”
You dove to her side to untie her when Brad moved out of the shadows and grabbed you by the hair. “Not so fast, Y/N. You’re coming with me.” He laughed then, a maniacal gleam in his green eyes.
“You’ve lost your mind, Brad.” You said softly, your voice shaking as you spoke. “Let us go. Now.”
You were backhanded for your trouble, and collided with the dumpster’s unforgiving metal.
“I’ve not lost my mind at all. You’re mine, Y/N. You always have been.”
You clearly weren't going to get out of this without some help. You needed Amy untied so she could run and find someone to call 911.
“Okay, Brad. Okay,” you said softly, ignoring the throbbing pain in your cheek. You raised your hands in a defensive gesture and slowly lowered yourself toward Amy. “Just let me untie her and let her go. Then we can leave. Together.”
Amy started struggling then and crying out against the tape on her mouth. You could tell she was telling you not to do it. But you had no choice. You couldn’t let him hurt Amy.
“Leave her,” he said, pulling out a handgun.
You froze. “Brad. What is wrong with you? Have you completely lost it?” You demanded.
He pointed the gun at Amy. “Get away from her now. She stays here. Tied up–so she can’t cause me any trouble.”
Suddenly, you were eager to get him as far away from your best friend–your sister–as was possible.
“Okay, Brad. Let’s just go.” You started toward him slowly so he wouldn’t feel threatened. “Just don’t hurt her.”
“You did sleep with him, didn’t you?”
The question caught you off guard because it was so random all of a sudden. But you instantly knew he was referring to Roman.
“N-no. I didn’t. I just said I did.”
“You little tease! You whore! I can’t trust anything you say now!”
The next thing you knew, he’d drawn the gun back and struck you across the cheek with it. You were out cold before you ever hit the concrete.
}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{
Roman couldn’t seem to drive quickly enough. Even in the torrential downpour that was going on. He was definitely not driving safely, but he didn’t care. He had one thing on his mind.
He had just finished his main event tag team match with his cousins at Madison Square Garden, and was heading for Y/N’s condo.
He couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to see Y/N. Had to make her his. Even if he had to wait a long time for it. He would. For her. She was so worth the wait.
He sped down the street and pulled in at Y/N’s condo. Flying out of his rental, he ran through the rain and when he reached her door he pounded on it. “Y/N! Open the door baby!”
The door did open, but the dark-haired woman that emerged was not Y/N. By a long shot.
This woman was frightened and angry. He could see it on her face.
“Where’s Y/N?”
“You creep! You left her and now Amy is missing and I can’t reach Y/N! I don’t know how this is your fault, but I’m sure it is! I will kick your-”
Roman wasted no more time. He simply ducked down, picked the hysterical woman up caveman style and carried her into the foyer of the large condo. She began beating on his back till he lowered himself again and deposited her onto a sofa in the living room.
“First of all, who are you?”
The woman seemed to calm a little and replied, “I’m Hayley.”
“Okay, Hayley… Where. Is. Y/N?”
“She was supposed to be at work, but she’s not answering her phone!”
Roman cursed softly. This wasn’t good.
“What about your other friend? Where is she?”
“I don’t know! She’s missing! She was supposed to be home hours ago! I called the police and they are supposed to be looking for her, but I’ve heard nothing from them yet!”
Roman rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay. I want you to stay here. In case they come back,” he clarified. “I will go check out the cafe and see what I can find out. Keep the doors locked, do not answer the door unless it’s them, the police, or me.”
For some reason, Hayley didn’t argue. She simply gave a nod and rubbed her arms as though she was cold.
Roman left then and climbed into his rental, starting it up instantly.
He had the drive to Gary’s Cafe driven in ten minutes flat. He parked and ran inside hoping against hope that he’d see Y/N inside waiting tables.
No such luck.
There was another waitress waiting on tables, but no Y/N.
He approached the older waitress and gently touched her shoulder, “Can you tell me where Y/N is?”
“I have no idea,” the woman exclaimed. “She just left me high and dry to wait tables. That is so unlike her. She is normally so helpful.” He was already running to the kitchen, not caring that it was against the rules. “Sir, you’re not allowed back there!” The waitress called out.
“Where is Y/N?” He asked Gary, ignoring the waitress.
“She took the trash out about twenty minutes ago. She should be back inside and waiting tables by now.”
“Well, she’s not,” Roman snapped. He turned around and left, heading outside.
Trying to keep the rain out of his eyes so he could see clearly, he instantly spotted a bag of trash laying on the concrete not far from the lone dumpster. He jogged over to it and inspected the area. No one was around.
He suddenly heard a feminine grunt and a soft cry. A muffled voice. Coming from behind the dumpster.
He hurried around it and spotted a young woman tied up and sitting in the rain.
Cursing, Roman tried to gently pull the tape from her mouth.
“Are you Amy,” he asked.
She looked at him, eyes wide and nodded, “Y-yes. You’re… Roman?”
It was his turn to nod. “Where is Y/N, Amy?” He demanded as he began untying her.
“Brad took her.”
Roman froze. “That’s her ex?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any idea where he took her?”
“Take me with you. I can lead you to where he was holding me. That’s the only place I can think of that he’d take her. It’s deep in the woods. A cabin.”
Roman finished untying her and helped her to her feet. “Come on. We have to go.” He handed Amy his cell phone, “Call your friend, Hayley. Let her know what’s going on.”
And then they were running for his car as Amy dialed Hayley.
Roman stifled an angry growl as he got in the driver’s seat. “He better hope she’s not hurt.”
“He knocked her out,” Amy cried, shock entering her eyes. He hit her! With a gun!”
Starting the car, Roman peeled out of the parking lot and floored it onto the street as Amy directed him where to go.
He had to find his woman. He just had to. She was his.
The Proposition Part 1 (Roman Reigns X Female Reader)
Title: The Proposition
Summary: When Y/N goes through a nasty breakup due to her morals, she makes a very out of character, for her, move when she halfway accepts a proposition from a complete stranger. They spend an evening together and make a connection like they’ve never known. And when dawn comes and it’s time to say goodbye, Roman and Y/N find that one night together was just not nearly enough for them.
Pairing: Roman Reigns X Female Reader
Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.
Content/Trigger Warnings: Mature themes, but no graphic detail.
NOTES: I realize that you have to go through airport-like security to board a ferry with Statue City Cruises, but for the sake of time and word counts, I’m omitting that from the story.
The Proposition
Part 1:
It had been a week since the break up with Brad. The relationship had lasted all of three months before he had decided that being with you was just too much. Your ‘no sex’ rule was just too much.
“Guys need sex,” he’d said, as if he was explaining biology to you. “There are only so many cold showers I can stand, Y/N.”
So he’d dumped you. At TGIFriday’s.
And you couldn’t say you were heartbroken about it.
“Order up!” You called loudly, getting Gary, the cook’s, attention. You placed the order slip on the rotating check spindle, and went to check on some of the other customers in the cafe, refilling coffee, and serving desserts as was requested of you.
Suddenly, the bell clanged over the door of the cafe, and you glanced up to see how many customers you needed to get menus for.
Some of the biggest, most handsome Polynesian men you’d ever seen walked into the cafe and waited at the door to be greeted. There were four of them. One wore a shirt that read “YEET”. One had dreadlocks. One had his long dark hair weaved back into several braids–other than the hair, he looked identical to the one in the YEET shirt. And then…
Then the last one sauntered in like he owned the place–the whole city. HIs long black hair was pulled back into a man bun and his beard was neatly groomed. Black eyes searched the room, and time seemed to freeze as they settled on you. He didn’t adjust to the other customers’ energy level. They adjusted to his.
“Sit anywhere you like,” you called out to the men with a friendly but shy smile. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”
The group of men headed for the big table in the center of the room and took a seat.
You counted their heads and grabbed a few menus, and sets of cutlery before heading back to their table to take their drink orders.
“Hi, I’m Y/N. I’ll be your waitress tonight. What can I get y’all to drink?” You asked, passing out the menus and placing a set of cutlery in front of each of the men. There were four of them and you hoped you would do a good enough job to get a decent tip from them.
“Water,” was the resounding answer so you wrote “H2O X 4” on the order slip and smiled at them. “I’ll be right back with those waters.”
“Could I have a slice of lime in mine?” Came a deep voice. You looked for the owner of it and found yourself staring into the black eyes of the man bun guy.
“S-sure thing,” you stammered only slightly, as you took in his appearance. He wore a black t-shirt with big silver letters that read “OTC”, and around the letters were the words “Original Tribal Chief”.
And that he is, you thought. The title fit him perfectly. You noticed he was wearing a pair of black running pants and a new looking pair of black and white Nike’s. His right arm had a full sleeve of tribal tattoos going all the way down to his wrist.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, breaking your attention from his clothing and tattoos and resettling it on his handsome face.
“You’re welcome,” you said softly, turning on your heel and attempting to hide the flush creeping up your face. You headed for the drink station and began pouring up four glasses of ice water and put a slice of lime on one of the glass’s rim. Quickly, you grabbed your drink tray and loaded the waters onto the circular tray, before heading back to the table to serve them.
“Here is y’all’s waters,” you said, careful to place the lime water in front of the handsome Samoan you ogled just minutes before. And then proceeded to set a glass of water down in front of the rest of the men.
Once that feat was complete, you pulled out your order pad and poised your pen above the pad. “Do you guys know what you want, or do you need a little more time to think it over?”
“I know exactly what I want.”
Your gaze flew up to meet the handsome Samoan’s again. Was there a hidden meaning there? You wondered. If the slight twitch of his mouth–aimed at you–-was anything to go by, you’d say there was.
“I’ll have the double cheeseburger–no onions, and fries.”
You wrote it down with a shy smile on your face, and then wrote down each of the other men’s orders. YEET guy ordered the same as the Triblal Chief, his twin ordered waffles—“It’s gotta be breakfast somewhere, Uce!” He’s said. And the dreads guy ordered a steak. “Rare.” It wasn’t a demand, but you sure hoped that Gary cooked the stake right.
“Alright guys, I’ll go get this started for you all.” You tore the slip from the pad and headed back to the cook’s station. “Orders up!”
“Hey, sweetheart? Could I get a refill on my water?”
You froze for just an instant. That voice! It sounded like what velvet feels like.
You turned and faced the Tribal Chief. “Already? I’m sorry, I should have checked to see if you needed a refill, you shouldn’t have come all the way to the drink station.”
“Don’t worry about it. I wanted to. So I could talk to you for a minute.”
You smiled and felt your face flush once again. “Talk? What about?” You asked, taking his glass and adding some ice to it.
“I don’t normally get so blunt so fast, but I’m going to be leaving in the morning. And I wanted to see if you’d like to… hang out when you get off work?”
There was no mistaking his meaning, and you should have been insulted.
Should have been.
You poured his water as you thought. Long and hard.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Maybe you could show me around New York City a little bit. Then we could go back to my hotel room, and see where things lead.”
You thought some more.
Why not? You wondered. I’ve been saving myself for no one in particular. I have waited (your age) years. And where has it gotten me? And here comes a perfectly handsome–gorgeous man who wants to share it with me. How can I say no?
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yes. It… It sounds like just what I need.”
He smiled. “Good. Me too. I’m Roman by the way. Roman Reigns.”
“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. What time do you get off work?”
“In about forty-five minutes.”
“I’ll be here.”
You smiled and handed him his glass of water, then said, “I’ll check on y’all’s food, and get it out as soon as it is ready.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.” He replied with a wink, and headed back to his table.
}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{
Forty minutes went by quite quickly, and with every minute on the clock that ticked by, you became more nervous.
Am I really doing this? Can I do this?
You heard the bell clang above the door again and you looked up, because it was close to closing time. The only customer left was Roman. His friends—or family?—had already gotten in their cars and left. Obviously, they knew that Roman had big plans with the waitress that evening. You flushed at the thought. Then your eyes fell on the customer that had entered the cafe.
Brad.
What does he want?
He spotted you and walked right up to you with a big smile on his face. “Hi, Y/N. Can we talk?”
You gave a slight shake of your head. “I have to finish closing up with Gary, and then I… I have plans.”
His smile faltered and he looked less friendly. His green eyes darkened. “We really need to talk.”
“I don’t think we do,” you replied. “We broke up–you dumped me. I wasn’t enough for you to wait on, so I am moving on.”
“I don’t want us to break up.”
“It’s a little late for that,” you said quietly, as you picked up a rag and began wiping down tables and booths. He followed you and practically whined about what a mistake he’d made.
“I don’t really care, Brad.” You picked up a creamer shaker and checked to see if it needed filling. Satisfied that it was full enough you set it back down. “Listen, you proved your true colors to me. It has made you unattractive in my sight. I no longer want to date you.”
Brad’s hand shot out and grabbed your arm. Painfully so. “No, you listen, you little tease–” You cried out and tried to free your arm. To no avail.
Instantly, you saw a blur of movement from your peripheral vision and turned to see Roman heading for you, his eyes on the hand that Brad used to hold you in place.
“Let her go.”
“Who are you,” Brad demanded, looking up at the broad-shouldered, six-foot-four Samoan.
“You’re hurting her,” Roman replied, ignoring Brad’s question. “Let her go. Now. This is your only warning, bud.”
“And if I don’t?”
It happened so fast, you didn’t even have time to blink.
Roman had Brad in a serious headlock, choking off his air. Instantly, your ex-boyfriend released your arm and began struggling against the larger man.
“Are you going to leave her alone?”
“Sure, man. Whatever!”
“Not good enough.” Roman dragged Brad to the door, opened it and flung him outside. “Stay away from her. Do not come around here ever again.”
With that, Roman shut the cafe door and locked the dead bolt.
“Are you okay,” he asked, turning toward you.
You nodded, rubbing your now sore arm. “Y-yeah. Thank you so much. Are you some kind of martial artist or something?”
Roman chuckled and you found that you loved the sound.
“No, I’m a professional wrestler.”
You nodded, “Somehow, I can see that,” you said with an impish grin.
The next little while was spent sweeping up the floor while Roman turned the chairs upside down on the tables for you, which you thought was sweet of him to do.
Finally, when everything was finished and Gary asked if you were okay to leave with Roman, you nodded at the cook, and he left out the back door.
“I guess we’d better get going,” you said, pulling out your keys to lock up with. “The night isn’t very young.”
A look of hunger crossed Roman’s face, and you had a feeling it had nothing to do with food. He nodded, and followed you to the door, unlocking the deadbolt and holding it open for you.
You liked that. Never really had you come across a gentleman before. And to look the way Roman did, it was a nice surprise.
You both stepped out into the crisp Fall night air, and locked the door behind you, knowing that Gary had taken care of locking the back door.
You turned to Roman, “So, what would you like to see first?”
Another ravenous look crossed his eyes, and he just stared at you for a moment, then gave a slow lick of his lips. “I know what I want to see first, but I’m actually saving that for last,” he said, gazing at you intently.
Your body nearly shuddered at his words as well as his actions. That tongue…
“Okay… So, what do you want to see second?” you giggled.
“Believe it or not, I’d like to see the Statue of Liberty. I heard you can take a ferry from Battery Park, is that true?”
You nodded, “Y-yeah. Statue City Cruises.”
Roman wasted no time in taking your hand and leading you to his car.
Am I really going to ride with a stranger? You wondered of yourself. So much could happen. Am I nuts or what? When I decide to live it up, I guess I go big or go home-
Roman interrupted your thoughts as you neared the car. “Are you okay to ride with me,” he asked, seemingly reading your mind. “I won’t hurt you, I swear. If you want, you can take a pic of my driver’s license and send it to a friend so you have a record of who you are with.”
“Okay, yes I’d like that.”
So, Roman dug his wallet out of his pocket and passed his license over to you. You couldn’t help inspecting it before you snapped a pic of it.
Roman Reigns.
Birthdate: May 25, of 1985.
Address–you skimmed over this detail and looked at the city and state–Tampa, Florida.
Quickly, you then snapped a photo of the license, and texted it to your best friends with a quick note.
You started to pocket your phone after handing Roman his license back, when the phone almost frantically alerted you to a text. Rolling your eyes, you smiled and checked the message.
Hayley ~ You’re finally gonna get it on??
You ~ I think so. Leave it alone for now. I’m busy. Details later. 😈
Amy~ I bet you are “busy” by the looks of that hunk! 😏 So HOT!! 🥵 Have fun. We’ll talk about it later.
Chuckling, you pocketed your phone and looked up to see the quizzical look on Roman’s face.
“My best friends. They’re thrilled that I’m…” You stopped yourself from saying ‘going on a date’, and opted for “actually getting out and doing something. I’m normally a homebody.” You planned to tell Roman you were a virgin. You really did. Just not right at this moment.
“Oh yeah,” Roman clarified. “I’m usually a homebody too.” He opened the passenger door to his car and helped you in before fastening your seatbelt around you. Looking at him strangely, he shrugged. “I happen to be an alpha male. I take care of my women.” His base-pitched voice rumbled softly in your ear and his warm breath brushed across your neck like a lover’s caress.
“I like that,” you replied. “It’s sweet of you.”
“Nothing about me is sweet,” he chuckled, running his finger across your jawbone and letting it linger at your lips. “If you only knew…what I’m thinking about doing to you later, you’d not call me ‘sweet’.”
“And what exactly are you planning to do to me?”
The words were out before you could stop them—a challenge.
“Oh, baby girl…” Roman’s voice vibrated in his chest and his dark eyes bore into yours. “Lots of things.”
Your breathing hitched in your chest. The thought of it. All of it. With Roman. A man like Roman… was more than you could imagine.
You nodded, and with that little nod, Roman leaned forward and captured your lips with his. Your eyes fluttered shut and you gasped against his mouth. He swallowed the soft sound and urged your lips apart to deepen the kiss. You opened for him immediately, and he slipped his tongue inside your mouth, tasting every inch of you.
You moaned. It was as if he’d done exactly what you needed when you needed it. But only for a moment. An itch that was yet to be scratched began to burn within you. One of his hands held you by the throat, while the other began to roam over your body in the car seat. You moaned again, this time with a bit more fervor.
“Easy girl,” He mumbled against your lips. “Easy. Much more of that and we’ll be naked in a flash. While a hotel room isn’t the most romantic place on earth, I sure don’t want to do this in an empty cafe parking lot.”
You chuckled, and nodded, “Me either.”
He made sure your arms and legs were fully inside before slamming the door shut and walking to the driver’s side of the vehicle. Within seconds, he was inside the car and starting it up. He punched in Battery Park to his GPS and followed the instructions to drive to the famous park.
“What do you say we get to know each other a little on the drive over?” Roman suggested, pulling onto the street.
“Sounds good,” You replied. “What do you want to know?”
“How old are you?”
“I’m (your age) years old. You?”
“I’m forty. What do you do for fun?”
“Besides letting myself be wooed by handsome wrestlers?”
He laughed, but kept his eyes on the road. “Yeah. Besides that.”
“I hang out with my best friends a lot. And I hang out online too. I’m an internet junkie. I love to blog, watch Youtube videos, and I write for fun.”
“Oh, really? What do you write about?”
“All kinds of things. Things I’ve never gotten to do, I imagine them and put them into story form.” You tilted your head to the side and looked at him, “So, what do you do in your free time?”
“I workout a lot. Read. Practice for upcoming shows. That kind of thing. I try to sightsee as my job lets me travel all over the world.”
“That’s amazing! So you’ve never seen the Statue of Liberty?”
“I have. But not like this, on a ferry with a beautiful woman on my arm.”
You flushed and looked down at your folded hands. “I’ve only lived here for about four months with my besties, and I’ve not yet had the opportunity to see it. So this will be a first for me.”
Among other firsts, you silently added to yourself.
“Well, I’m glad I get to be the one to share it with you.”
“I’m glad you are too.” You swallowed hard, wondering why you were suddenly feeling emotional, and then changed the subject. “So, I probably should have asked this earlier than now, but, you are single, right?”
He chuckled, and signaled for a right turn. “Yes. I’ve been divorced for a few months and am just enjoying the singledom.”
You nodded. “I’m single too. For about a week so far,” you chuckled as well. “The guy you put in a chokehold at the cafe… he’s my ex.”
“I thought it was something like that,” Roman said, checking over his shoulder before merging into the chaotic traffic. “If you don’t mind my asking, why did you guys break up?”
You puffed out a slow sigh, “Long story short…. I wouldn’t sleep with him. And he couldn’t handle it.”
“Any reason why? Why you didn’t want to sleep with him, I mean?”
“He just… I… I knew the relationship wasn’t going anywhere, so I didn’t want to.”
“That’s good enough reason,” the large Samoan replied, making another turn.
Before he could ask another question of a sexual nature, you changed the subject again. “So, what kind of sights do you want to see?”
“To be honest, I’ve seen most everything there is to see of New York City and Manhattan. But I’d like to spend some time with you and get to know you a bit. My only thing is, I need you to understand that this isn’t the beginning of a relationship, Y/N. I’m single and enjoying it. We’ll have one amazing night together, and that’ll be that.”
That stung. But to cover up your disappointment, you laughed. “That’s perfect. And that’s all I want too. I’m too busy for a relationship anyway, really. That’s partly why my relationship with Brad failed as well. I was too busy for his liking.”
Where the lies came from that were tumbling from your lips, you had no idea. But you were thankful for them. They covered your disappointment very well, and you were quite convincing, because Roman smiled. “Good. We’re on the same page then.”
About that time, he pulled onto a street near Battery Park and parallel parked with ease into a parking space. He killed the engine, and signaled for you to wait for him to come around to your side of the vehicle. Then he was helping you out of the seat and making sure you didn’t stumble. He took your hand wordlessly, almost as if he’d done it many times, and led you to the ticket master of Statue City Cruises.
“Two tickets, please,” Roman said, an authority in his tone.
“Yes, sir,” replied the older man working the ticket booth. He printed out two tickets, and accepted the money for them before handing the passes over. “The ferry leaves in ten minutes, so you should probably start boarding.”
With a nod, Roman took your hand again, and led you to the ferry where you both presented your tickets and boarded.
Within minutes, the ferry was leaving to take its trip around Liberty Island. You both watched as the Statue of Liberty became larger and larger.
“Oh, my gosh,” you gasped. “It’s so beautiful!”
It was pitch dark outside, but the statue was lit up perfectly. It was quite breathtaking, actually. The closer you got the more emotional you felt. Why, you didn’t know.
A tear spilled down your cheek as you gazed at the statue. You turned to look at Roman with a teary smile on your face. “I don’t know why I’m crying, really.”
Roman smiled back at you and brought your hand to his lips, brushing them over the knuckles in a soft kiss. “Beauty can make you react that way. And she certainly is a beautiful landmark.”
You nodded as the ferry began to turn around and go back the way it had come. You got another good look at the statue as the tour boat again sailed past it.
“Okay, so what should we do next?” Roman asked, when you were well on your way back to Battery Park.
“Well, if it was still daylight, I’d say take a stroll through Central Park, but I don’t think that would be very safe at night.”
Roman clicked his tongue, “Yeah, it probably wouldn’t. How about we go hit Luna Park in Coney Island?”
“That’s in Brooklyn. Are you sure you want to do that,” you asked, wanting to be considerate of his time. You had the distinct feeling that since you’d mentioned not doing much sightseeing that he’d suddenly made this outing all about you. And you felt badly for it.
“Of course, if you would like to go on some rides, I’d be happy to.”
“I’d love to. But be warned… I’m a chicken. I don't ride anything that’s super crazy.”
Roman laughed, “That’s fine. We’ll only ride what you’re comfortable with.”
A half hour later, you were strolling through the amusement park, holding hands as if you were an old couple. But somehow you knew once you got back to Roman’s hotel room, his gentlemanly side would disappear. And you couldn’t help but look forward to it. Something told you he was a menace in the bedroom.
“What are you thinking about?” He asked, running his thumb lazily over the back of your hand.
“Later,” you answered honestly. Flushing slightly, you gazed up at him. “I’m nervous–but excited.”
“No need to be nervous, baby girl.”
Oh, yes there is, you thought to yourself.
“We’ll move at your pace. At first.”
You gulped at those last words.
“Come on, let’s ride the Coney Clipper.”
“The big, swinging ship, right?”
He nodded, “Yep.” He began leading you across the walkway to it. “It’s not scary, and it’s really fun.”
Within minutes, you were installed in a seat next to Roman, and you waited patiently as the ship began to slowly swing one direction, then the other.
“Hang on tight, it goes faster pretty soon.”
You gripped the metal of the railing that caged you into the seat, and closed your eyes tightly.
“No, no, open your eyes,” Roman laughed. “That’s all the fun!”
Nervously, you opened your eyes, and watched as the ground sailed further and further away from you, and then you seemed to freeze in midair for a long moment, before the ship came flying back down to earth and you swung in the other direction.
“I love it,” you gasped.
“I thought you might,” he said, taking your hand in his. “Trust me?”
You looked at him. You did trust him. How, or why, you didn’t know. But you trusted him.
“Yes.”
He seemed to stare back at you for a moment, scanning your face with his gaze. An expression you couldn’t read flitted across his face and then he spoke softly, “Let go of the bar. Raise your hands above your head as we freeze in the air for a sec.”
As you went backward, you loosened your grip on the bar and finally released it altogether.
“OhmygoshOhmygoshOhmygosh!” You screamed in glee as you went higher and higher into the air.
Roman laughed, and took hold of one of your hands above your head and squeezed it tightly.
You got flung backward as the ship swung in the other direction.
“Hang on to my hand,” Roman said, a big smile on his face.
You clung to his hand for the remainder of the ride which ended much sooner than you wanted. You were having the time of your life.
“What do you want to ride next?” He asked, as you walked away from the Coney Clipper.
“After that? Anything!” You exclaimed. “That was so much fun!”
He began leading you to a roller coaster called the Cyclone. “You want to try a roller coaster? It’s not very scary. Just a bunch of ups and downs. No loop de loops. I promise.”
Still on a high from the Coney Clipper, you smiled. “Sure! Why not?”
You went ahead of him and began eagerly heading for the ride. You turned and saw Roman just watching you. “Come on, Roman! Let’s get a good seat!”
He walked up to you and didn’t hesitate in brushing his hand down your cheekbone. “I love the sound of you saying my name.” He leaned down and kissed you softly.
You flushed for what seemed like the millionth time.
Roman gazed at you for a moment. “Woman… You’re gonna be the death of me, I just know it.” Another brush of his lips across yours and then he took your hand and led you the rest of the way to the roller coaster.
“I’ve never ridden a coaster before,” you suddenly said, softly. You looked over at Roman and smiled nervously. “What have I gotten myself into?”
It was a loaded question. And you both knew it.
“More than you can handle, I’m afraid.”
You giggled, “I certainly hope so.”
The sexual tension between you seemed to grow thicker and thicker as the night went on.
“Let’s go back to my hotel after this ride, yeah?”
You looked at his handsome face, and saw that his eyes had gone blacker than pitch. He was as hungry for you as you were for him.
Wordlessly, you nodded, reached up and kissed him.
And then the roller coaster ride began.
It started out by going around a curve, and then chugged slowly uphill and zoomed downward. After that, it was literally a series of ups and downs as Roman had said. The ride seemed to be over in a matter of seconds, and you were grateful. You were eager to get back to Roman’s hotel room.
The drive back to New York City was driven in record time. You were amazed that Roman didn’t get pulled over, and wrote a ticket. But he didn’t. He drove into the hotel’s parking garage in no time and was pulling into a space.
Everything went by in a whirl. Roman led you to the elevator and punched the button for the fifth floor. Once the lift had brought you to the designated floor, Roman took your hand again and began pulling you down the hallway to his room.
Within seconds, he had his room’s door open and was showing you inside. The room was surprisingly luxurious and nice. The bed, huge.
You looked over at Roman and ran your slender hand over your hair. “Would you mind if I took a shower? I feel so icky at being in the cafe all day.”
“Of course. Help yourself,” he smiled. “Just don’t take too long,” he added with a wink.
You giggled and nodded before heading into the bathroom. You wasted no time in stripping down and getting under the hot water of the shower. Quickly, you shampooed your hair and cleaned yourself up so you’d be presentable to Roman. Within minutes, you were out of the shower and drying off on a huge towel and wrapping it around you, tucking the end of the towel in between your breasts.
Suddenly nervous, you stepped out of the bathroom and instantly found Roman lying on the king-sized bed, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts.
He heard you step into the room, and rose up on the bed.
“Wow,” he said, looking you up and down. The towel didn’t cover much so he was getting a much wanted dose of leg. “You look beautiful just wearing a towel.”
You gazed at him. He’d taken his black hair down from its bun, and it flowed down around his broad shoulders. His stomach muscles rippled as he sat up on the bed. He was, in a word, ripped. He looked like a romance novel cover model.
“You’re gorgeous,” You said, without thinking. Then you inwardly cringed at how pathetic you sounded.
Roman smiled, “Thank you. You are quite stunning if I do say so myself.”
He raised his hand and motioned for you to come to him, “Come here, sweetheart.”
You felt your face burn as you made your way over to him. No sooner than you reached him, he was hooking his large hands underneath your armpits and lifting you onto his lap. You straddled him and your face flushed even further.
“Don’t get shy on me now, baby girl.”
You smiled and avoided his eyes. “I should probably tell you something before we… Before we…”
“Have sex?”
You nodded, “Y-yeah. I… I’ve never done this before.”
“What? A one night stand,” Roman asked.
You shook your head. “No. I’ve never done any of this.”
His eyebrows raised on his forehead. “You’ve never had sex? You’re a virgin?”
You nodded again, “Yes, I’m a virgin.”
“And you want to go through with this?”
“Y-yes. I think I do.”
Roman turned your face up to make you look him in the eye. “Sweetheart, can you look at me when you say that?”
So, taking a deep breath, and meeting his eyes, you said, “I want you,” in a whisper.
With that, his lips crashed against yours and he plundered your mouth with his tongue.
“Mmm,” you moaned into his mouth and grasped at his shoulders as his large hands raised up and cupped your face. He nudged you back onto the bed underneath him and kissed you senseless. Your legs hugged his sculpted waist and you mewled into his mouth again, frantic for every bit of sensation he was giving you.
His hand slid down the length of your body and hitched your leg up around his waist even tighter.
“I’ll try not to hurt you, being your first time. But I can’t promise it won’t hurt anyway.”
You gulped hard. You’d not contemplated pain. What Roman was making you feel right now was anything but discomfort.
“Tell me I’m not a jerk for doing this,” he groaned into the curve of your neck. “I want you so bad.”
“You’re not a jerk,” you cried softly, arching into his touch. His hands were wandering all over your body. But suddenly, you were gasping. Fighting for air. One of your famous panic attacks.
“Sweetheart? Baby girl?”
“I.. I can’t…”
You suddenly had the feeling you were making a huge mistake. You were already halfway in love with this man–as crazy as it sounded, even to you. And yet here you were, about to sleep with him and then say goodbye forever? But you were going to have to say goodbye forever regardless.
Why, oh, why did Roman Reigns have to come into my life?
“It’s okay,” Roman said immediately, tucking you against his body. “We don’t have to do this.”
“I’m s-sorry…”
“Don’t be sorry,” he hugged you close. “I’m sorry for pressuring you.”
“I really did want this,” you said on a sob. “I promise.”
“I know. And I did too. I think it would have been very special. A night I’d never forget.”
“M-me too.”
“You’ve given me a night I’ll never forget, anyway.”
“Ditto.” You sniffled.
Roman chuckled, “Ditto, huh?”
You nodded, and snuggled into him. “Yes. You’ve given me… more than you’ll ever know.”
Roman looked as if he wanted to object to your words. But he didn’t. Instead he said, “Well, I’m glad, if I did.”
“I’ll go now,” you said, starting to rise up off Roman, and preparing to get dressed.
“What? No. Don’t leave,” Roman said, tugging you back across him. “Stay. I’ll hold you while you sleep.”
“But I have to be at work for the morning shift. And you, don’t you have, like, a flight or something to catch?”
“Yeah I do. But I can make us a wakeup call for five or six if you want. Then I can drive you home.” He watched as you thought it over. “Please. I’d like to know that you get home safely.”
“Okay.”
“Okay. Let me get a shirt for you to sleep in.”
A few minutes later, you were climbing back into bed with Roman, wearing one of his t-shirts for a sleep shirt. His arms closed around you and you were asleep before you knew it.
}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{
The next morning, you woke up about a half hour before your wakeup call. You shifted slightly in Roman’s arms, and gazed up at him.
He was beautiful. Even when he slept. You reached up and coiled a lock of his hair around your finger.
“I’ll miss you,” you whispered softly, so he wouldn’t hear in his sleep. A tear spilled down your cheek at the thought of never seeing him again. But he’d made it clear last night. This wasn’t going anywhere. He would leave and never think of you again. You stifled a sob and tried not to jolt as the phone rang for your wakeup call.
Roman woke up and quickly picked up the hotel room’s phone, “Hello?” He nodded once and thanked the person on the other end of the line and hung up.
“Well, baby girl. It’s time to check out.”
“I know.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Thank you for last night, Roman. Thank you so much. I needed it. It’s been so long since I’ve felt a connection with the opposite sex.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, “And thank you too, sweetheart. I needed last night as well. It was fun.”
You nodded, “It was.” And then you stood to your feet, headed for the bathroom to put on your work uniform from the night before.
Within a half hour, you and Roman were heading down to his car and driving toward your condo in the city. The short drive was done in a matter of twenty minutes, and when Roman pulled into a parking space nearest your condo, he proceeded to get out of the large SUV and help you out of the passenger’s seat.
“Thank you,” you whispered, taking his hand and stepping down from the large vehicle.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
You both walked hand in hand to your condo you shared with your best friends Amy and Hayley. Once you passed by the other condos and reached your door, you turned to face him.
“So…”
“So…”
“I guess, this is it, huh?”
“I’m not relationship material, sweetheart. Not right now anyway.”
You nodded, “I know that. You’ve made yourself clear, Roman. I promise to not cramp your style and latch onto you crying like a little girl.”
“Whoa. What’s the anger for?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just angry at the situation. I finally met someone who I connected with and I screwed up by not sleeping with him, and now I have to face the consequences of not seeing you again.”
“Hey, you didn’t screw anything up,” Roman said, pulling you into his arms.
You pulled away, “Please, don’t make this harder than it already is. I am not cut out for one night stands, and I shouldn’t have said I was. I’m sorry.”
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. It’s completely fine, Y/N.”
“I need to go, and get ready for work.”
“How about I leave you my number and you can call me anytime you want?”
“Sure.”
Roman quickly took a store receipt from his pocket and scrawled his phone number across the back of it, and handed it to you.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I hope to hear from you.”
You nodded, having no intention of calling him, and looking like a needy teenager.
“Well, I better get going. I have a flight to catch in a couple of hours.”
“Okay. It was nice…meeting you, knowing you… I mean…”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. It was nice. Let’s leave it at that, yeah?”
You nodded again, and tried not to tear up when he leaned down to your face and kissed your cheek.
“Take care of yourself.”
“You too.”
With that, he turned and left you. Headed back toward his car. And you turned and went inside to see your best friends hanging by the door.
“So? How was it?” Hayley asked.
“Is he going to see you again,” inquired Amy.
You promptly burst into tears and explained the whole situation to your sisters.
By the time you were through, the other two women were seething.
“How dare he leave you high and dry!”
“How could he do something so cold??”
“Y’all he didn’t promise me anything. Just one night together. That was it. And he kept his end of the deal.”
“Yeah, well,” Hayley huffed. “He is selfish.”
“Maybe so, but I didn’t have to agree to the one night, so that’s on me.”
You rose from the sofa, and headed for your bedroom to get ready for work. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
You shut the door to your bedroom, and pulled another work uniform out of your closet and began putting it on.
“It’s not anyone’s fault,” you told yourself as you undressed from your previous day’s work outfit and began pulling on the fresh one. “He can’t help if he doesn’t want a relationship. And I can’t help that I met “Mr. Right at the Wrong Time”.
“You needed to dive into work. That would help get your mind off him. Yes, just dive right back into work and forget that Roman Reigns ever existed.”
As if.
}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{
Roman placed his carry-on bag into the overhead compartment above his seat and sat down next to his twin cousins, Jimmy and Jey.
“What’s good, Uce?” Jey asked, looking over at his older cousin.
“Not much, right now,” Roman replied, “Not much.”
His mind was on the beautiful woman he’d spent the entire night with. Everything about her stood out. She was like a bright little light that he’d never forget. Her eyes, her hair, her lips–her kisses… Nothing would he forget.
“What’s wrong?”
Roman was jarred out of his thoughts by his cousin’s inquiry. “Huh?”
“Something’s wrong. You’re different. Is it the woman from last night? She get a little too clingy?”
“No.”
It’s not that at all, Roman thought. She wasn’t too clingy. By the time he dropped her off at her condo that morning, she hadn’t been clingy enough.
He needed to get back to work. That’d help him forget about her. Just have a few good fights, and she’d be out of his system for good.
The Proposition Part 4 (Roman Reigns X Female Reader)
Title: The Proposition
Summary: When Y/N goes through a nasty breakup due to her morals, she makes a very out of character, for her, move when she halfway accepts a proposition from a complete stranger. They spend an evening together and make a connection like they’ve never known. And when dawn comes and it’s time to say goodbye, Roman and Y/N find that one night together was just not nearly enough for them.
Pairing: Roman Reigns X Female Reader
Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.
Content/Trigger Warnings: Aftermath of violence against men and women.
The Proposition
Part 4:
You heard Roman speaking to you and your head turned toward his voice. Your eyes opened slightly and you winced in pain. But you were able to make out his beautiful form sitting in a chair next to your hospital bed.
“You came for me,” you whispered softly, weakly. A tired smile graced your lips.
“Of course I did, sweetheart. I should have come for you long ago. This would have never happened.” His hand reached up to cup the uninjured side of your face. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. I’m so sorry that I-”
“You’re really here,” you managed to say, cutting him off. You reached up and touched the hand that caressed your face. “You’re real.”
“You’re not dreaming, baby. I promise.”
“I thought I was going to die–when he had me. I didn’t think anyone would get to me in time, let alone you. I figured you were somewhere doing a show.”
“I’d just finished up at the Garden,” Roman told you, taking your hand in his, running his thumb over the back of it. “I went to your condo. Hayley was hysterical because you and Amy were missing.”
“Are they okay now? Amy? Was she hurt?”
“She got hit but she’s okay,” Roman replied. “And yes, they are both safe and okay. Brad’s dead–I killed him. He’ll never hurt any of you again.” He swallowed hard, and spoke softly. “Amy and Hayley are out in the hallway. Wanna see them?”
You nodded, and then grimaced at the pain that invaded your shoulder.
“Easy, baby. I’ll go get them.” He stood to his feet, and walked over to the door. “Ladies?” He called. “She’s awake and wants to see you.”
A second later, Amy and Hayley rushed into the room and joined you at your bed. “Oh, my God, Y/N, you scared us so badly!” Hayley said.
“I’m sorry that you got dragged into my mess, girls,” You said tiredly. “I never intended for any of this to happen.”
“We know. And it wasn’t your fault,” Amy said softly. “It was all Brad. He was a sicko.”
You nodded, “He was. I’m just glad it’s over and that we’re all safe now.”
You talked with the girls and Roman a little longer and then a nurse came in and said it was time to let you rest. You tried to get the nurse to let them stay a little longer, but she simply and firmly assured you they could see you again later in the morning.
It didn’t take long for you to fall back to sleep.
}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{
The next few days went by in a flash and you were being discharged from the hospital. The doctor had said you’d probably stay for a week, but she wound up saying you were doing so well, that she didn’t see any need in making you stay the full week, and discharged you after five days.
Roman drove you to your condo. He’d taken some time off from wrestling, and stayed with you the whole time you were in the hospital. He finally put his foot down with the nurses when they tried to get him to leave so you could rest, and said there was no way in the world he was leaving you again.
“I left her once, and something very bad happened to her. I’m not making that mistake again,” he’d said.
The head nurse had discussed it with the doctor and Roman got the okay that it was fine to stay with Y/N throughout her hospital stay.
Now, as Roman pulled into a parking space at your condo, you felt a surge of butterflies in your stomach.
You were home.
And your two best friends in the world were waiting for you to arrive.
You were being escorted by the man you loved.
Life couldn’t get any better than this.
“Ready to get inside,” Roman asked, after opening your door.
“Yes, more than,” you laughed softly, and moved to step down from the SUV.
“Nuh-uh,” Roman admonished you and proceeded to lift you up in a bridal carry.
“Roman! I’m fully capable of walking.”
“I know that. But you’re crazy if after all you’ve been through, you think I’m going to let you walk all the way from here to your condo.”
Smiling softly, you cupped his handsome face in your hand and kissed him, relishing in the feel of his soft beard underneath your fingertips.
You wanted to tell him you loved him. You remembered saying it to him when you felt as though you were dying, and you’d meant it. You loved him with your whole heart. And you remembered him saying it back to you. But you were afraid he’d only done it in the heat of the moment. And to try to give you some incentive to fight and live.
So you kept your silence.
For now.
He reached your door, and you rang the doorbell, still in Roman’s arms. The door opened instantly and the girls were practically jumping up and down at seeing you in some place other than the hospital.
“So glad you’re home,” the girls both exclaimed, wrapping their arms around you in a group hug.
“I’m glad too,” you replied, hugging them in return.
“We just want you to chill and relax. We have dinner covered, and we thought we could start a Walking Dead marathon to celebrate your homecoming, but only if you feel up to it.” Amy suggested.
You nodded, “I’ll probably fall asleep as soon as I eat and get on the sofa, but yeah, we can try that.”
You all ate dinner, and did begin a Walking Dead marathon, but you didn’t get far into the pilot episode before you were dozing off and your head fell against Roman’s shoulder.
“Maybe we should try this another time,” you chuckled softly, as you fought off a yawn. “Maybe after I’ve gotten used to being home and everything.”
Amy and Hayley agreed quickly.
“Of course,” Hayley said, “Why don’t y’all go on to bed and get some rest?”
“But the kitchen, I could help clean up,” you objected.
“Nope. We pretty much cleaned up as we went,” Amy told you. “We’ll finish up in there in no time.”
With that, Roman stood from the couch and lifted you up into his arms. “Let’s get you to bed. He carried you, while you giggled softly, into your bedroom and sat you on the bed.
“Where do you keep your pajamas?”
“The dresser. Top drawer on the right.”
He reached into said drawer and pulled out a large sleep shirt. “This okay?”
You nodded and reached for it, stood to go to the bathroom and change.
“Wait, I’ll help you change,” Roman insisted, beginning to pull your t-shirt over your head.
“Roman! Wait!”
But your shirt was already off and you instinctively placed your arm across your breasts to hide them from view.
“I’ve already seen it, you know.” Roman said, as you began tugging at your sweatpants next.
“Seen what?”
“Your tattoo. The little “MTC” over your heart with the tribal circle around it. I assume it stands for My Tribal Chief. When did you get it done?”
Flabbergasted and embarrassed, you swallowed hard. “About a month before… before you came back.”
“I love it. So you know,” he said, getting your nightshirt ready to put on you. “You’re mine, so I like seeing my mark on you.”
Your heart skipped at hearing him call you his. He tugged your arms through the sleeves of the shirt, and you didn’t know what to say. Your face was crimson, you could feel it.
Once your arms were through the sleeves, he pulled the shirt over your head and settled the garment around you.
Then he was nudging you back onto the bed, kissing you softly. You laid back against the pillows and leaned into Roman as he laid down next to you.
“How will we make something between us work,” you asked suddenly. You were actually thinking out loud rather than actually asking Roman. “I mean, you live…. Where? And I live here.”
“I live in Tampa,” he said. “Florida.” He seemed to be deep in thought for a moment. “So, do you and Amy and Hayely have anything holding you here? Any lifelong dreams of being New Yorkers? Anything like that?”
You shook your head, “No, not really. We tried to find a place central to where we all lived so that we could move in together as roommates. New York City seemed random, but practical.”
“Would the girls be open to moving to Tampa? Would you?”
You froze.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes,” Roman replied, kissing you again. “I want you near me.” His dark eyes met yours then. “I meant it when I told you I loved you. I don't know how in the world it happened so fast, but I am not willing to lose you again. Move to Tampa. Move in with me.” He cursed softly then. “Marry me.”
You gazed into his face to read his logic. You didn’t want to rush into anything, but at the same time… you loved him. Why not?
“But, how do we know this will work? What if we’re moving too fast?”
“You love me? Trust me?”
You nodded immediately, “Yes. You know I do.”
“Then marry me. I don’t want something to happen to you or me, and we not even have any married time together. Life is too short, baby.”
You scanned his handsome face, smiled and nodded. “Yes.”
He grinned from ear to ear, “You’ve just made me the happiest man alive.”
“And you’ve just made me the happiest woman alive,” you replied, caressing his face in your hand. “It’s like my world was in black and white till you came along.”
Roman smiled again and leaned down, kissing you deeply. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. When are we getting married?”
“As soon as possible,” Roman answered, pulling you closer against him.
“I don’t care about a big wedding,” you said, stifling a yawn. “Getting married at the courthouse is fine with me.”
“We’ll talk about that tomorrow,” Roman said, “Now get some sleep. You need it.”
You settled against him then and fell fast asleep in his arms.
}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{
Two Weeks Later…
“You may kiss your bride.”
Time seemed to freeze as Roman leaned down and kissed you. The red Ula Fala he wore tickled against your collar bone as you kissed him in return. You brought your arms up about his neck and relished in the taste of him.
He finally broke the kiss and smiled down at you. “Mrs. Reigns.”
The small, intimate gathering around you applauded as the minister introduced you as the newly married couple, “Mr. and Mrs. Reigns”.
Amy and Hayley, both your maids of honor, squealed and clapped as you both took hands and went back down the long aisle of the church. You both quickly walked back to the dressing rooms to get ready for the party that was to follow. When you re-emerged from the dressing room, you donned a shorter white dress that was easier to move around in. Roman came out then, and had merely removed his neck tie and gray suit blazer. He was left in a crisp white dress shirt and his Ula Fala with a pair of gray slacks. His black hair remained loose about his broad shoulders.
You joined hands again and headed for the limo outside so you wouldn’t be late for your reception. You both got in the elegant vehicle and Roman immediately reached up and hit a switch. The partition between you both and the drive slid up and you had privacy then.
“Come here,” he mumbled, pulling you against him. He kissed you then, slipping his tongue into your mouth and fully tasting you. “Can’t wait to get you home.”
You giggled, and playfully slugged his shoulder. “We have a party to get to. Behave.”
“Why?”
You slugged him again, and then realized you were pulling into the venue.
“Because we’re here. Do you want your close friends and family watching us make love in the backseat of our limo?”
“No,” Roman admitted. “And I want it to be more special for you than in the backseat of a car.” He swallowed hard looking you in the eye. “So I guess we’d better make at least an appearance at our party, and then…” He wriggled his thick, dark eyebrows at her. “We can go home.”
You giggled, and kissed him. “I love you.”
“And I love you,” he replied, opening the door. “Let’s go party.”
The next few hours were full of dancing, drinking champagne and soft, stolen kisses on the dance floor.
“Do you think we’ve been here long enough?” Roman finally asked, his arms tight around you.
“Roman! We’d be the first people to leave. How rude would that be?”
“It’s not rude. Let me make a little speech and we’ll be on our way.”
“Roman, no!”
Ignoring you, he took a microphone from the DJ’s table, and stepping onto the stage, he spoke into it. “Ladies and gentleman, can I have your attention for a moment. Cut the music for a sec, please.”
When the music quietened down, Roman spoke again. “Life is short. As we, personally, almost learned a couple weeks ago.” He took your hand and squeezed it. “So, my wife and I are going to go and celebrate our lives. But please, stay and enjoy the party!”
There were several cat calls and hoots from the attendees, as Roman led you off the stage and to the exit door in the venue.
“Oh my gosh, Roman. I will never be able to face these people again! You just announced to them that we’ll be-”
You were silenced as Roman tugged you up against him and kissed you deeply–a kiss full of promise of what was to come.
“They understand, sweetheart. We’re in love, obviously. And most of them are all married. They totally understand that we want some alone time.”
You nodded, though you were still flushed, you could feel it in your face. “Okay.”
You allowed him to lead you to the limo and you both climbed in.
“We’re heading home,” Roman informed the driver. “And there is an extra thousand dollars in your tip if you can get us there, safely, in under twenty minutes.”
“Roman!” You hissed. “Do you have to be so obvious?”
He chuckled, and kissed you again. “We just got married. Like they don’t know what we’ll be doing anyway.”
You facepalmed and shook your head.
The limo driver accepted the challenge with a smirk on his face and began pulling out onto the street. He had the drive made in eighteen and a half minutes.
“This isn’t my first rodeo,” he said, when Roman looked impressed.
Roman quickly wrote out a check for the man’s tip and then hurried out of the limo, pulling you with him.
“Roman, slow down!”
Suddenly you were lifted, caveman style, over his shoulder and were being carried to the front door of his home.
Too full of a fit of giggles were you, to protest. Roman was instantly turning the key in his lock, and carrying you inside. He locked the door back, and proceeded to carry you up the stairs, past the landing, and straight to the master bedroom.
He immediately closed the gap between your faces, and kissed you. Hard.
His mouth never tore from yours as he carried you back toward the large bed, laid you across it. His large hands moved upward and began unzipping your dress
You broke the kiss long enough to gently remove his Ula Fala, and lay it on on the night table, then you unbuttoned his dress shirt and whipped it off him.
You both had each other undressed in seconds and then his mouth was on yours again, his tongue slipping past your lips. You moaned into his mouth as his hands began to wander over your body.
You wanted this so badly. And none other than Roman Reigns was the perfect man for the job.
He was gorgeous with his long, silky black hair, and intense smoldering gaze. He was kind, and oh, did he know how to play a woman’s body like a highly strung instrument.
You gripped his hair in your hands as he continued coaxing little sounds from your throat. You closed your eyes as he pulled your body flush against his, relishing in everything he was making you feel…
What happens to Jey Uso when he feels like the world is out to get him? when he feels like everyone, including his own twin is out to get him, when he listens to a manipulative person that leads to a crash out. the only person who can knock some sense into him is the one wearing his wedding ring.
- based on raw that happened on September 8th, 2025
- in this universe, wrestling isn't scripted and the wresters create their own storylines and characteristics.
ONE SHOT | mature, SMUTTY | 26k words
Jey Uso, married
Original Character, Alaula.
Alaula is half korean, half Samoan | her style is punk/alt, colored hair, tattoos, piercings, blue eyes from a super rare condition, married to jey.
Poly/Samoan nicknames used: La'u Manamea meaning darling/sweetheart, La'u Tausala meaning beauty/princess
After the chaos of tonight, between the brons to La Knight causing a certain someone to lose his temper after weeks of stress since losing his precious gold that he worked so hard for.
The car ride back to the hotel is quiet, not a sound except the wind whistling through their hair. "Is anyone hungry" Jimmy finally breaks the silence, the female in the passenger seat looks at Jey for response but nothing, she sighs "we can order something when we get to the hotel" Jimmy hums "craving anything in particular?" he asks curiously "don't have a appetite if I'm being honest with you" she laughs softly as she looks at the building passing by. "pizza will do" Jimmy says as he scrolls through his phone, Alaula looks down as she feels her husband grab her hand, intertwining their fingers as he continues driving in silence a way of reinsurance, letting her know that she's not the one he's upset with. She plays with the rings on his fingers, she always liked how big hands his were while hers was small, but they fit together so well like a puzzle piece.
⋆˙⟡
Alaula sits at the counter top with a glass of wine in her hand as she listens her husband rant his head off about tonight, she watches him as he paces back and forth.
"Feels like everyone is out to get me" he mumbles to himself "dunno who to trust, who to believe" he runs his fingers through his hair
"Uce, I need you to believe me" Jimmy softly says sitting on the sofa "Shaun wasn't coming after you, you were pushed then he-"
Jey cuts him off "what are you on his damn side now huh?" his twin sighs "Josh will you listen" he snickers "I've listened enough, I'm fucking tired of everybody, man" he continues "I've been busting my goddamn ass for months just for these fuckers to come at me from all sides"
Alaula sighs "babe"
Though, he continues his ranting "Shaun's ass, punks dumb ass, the damn brons." He inhales sharply "why are the brons even after me? They should be minding their damn business"
Alaula tries again "babe!" she says a little louder
"Colby got the title so why's their focus on me huh"
She shouts "Joshua!" he finally stops talking and turns to her with his hands on his hips "What Alaula!" he snickers.
She farrows her eyebrows with a head tick "okay first of all, change your tone - lose the attitude with me right damn now" she laughs softly in annoyance "I done nothing to you, okay" she tucks some of her indigo colored hair behind her ear "secondly. Nobody is out to get you, Josh. You are overthinking, you have created something in your head to cause something to go wrong" she sighs "Shaun was out there trying to help you, like Jon just said - he got pushed into you"
He laughs "naw naw, so you're picking sides huh" Alaula throws her hands up in annoyance "so we're accusing everyone of shit they never said or did huh"
Jey rolls his eyes "ain't said it, probably thought it" he says brusquely, she laughs as she rubs her face before getting up from the counter.
"You know what Josh" she sighs "your brother was right" he looks at her with confused but upset eyes "about?" she looks him dead in the eyes "he was fucking right when he said earlier tonight that you're starting to sound like Roman, exactly fucking like him"
Jimmy stands up immediately with worried eyes.
Jey stares at his wife "what did you say," she crosses her arms against her chest as she stares up at him "you heard me"
Jimmy sighs "uh yeah that's my que to leave" he quickly but quietly says just before he gets up and immediately heads out of the hotel room without another word.
"Lemme" Jey laughs in-between words "lemme run this back, my wife taking my brother's side" she snaps back immediately "nobody's side" he sighs in annoyance as he walks up to her, towering over her, she watches the look in his eyes change dark, he looks at her from head to toe with a cocky smirk "you're just like them, nobody's listening"
She smacks her gums "you're the one not listening" he backs her up against the wall as his fingers wrap around her throat, his face close to hers "don't smack your gums at me" he hisses out, she bats her eyelashes at him "drop the attitude with me then" he chuckles "as your wife, I'm on your side" she looks at his lips then his eyes "but as a friend, I am here to say that you need to get out of that mindset that Leati has manipulated into you having"
The tall man scoffs "he did nothing" she nods humming "right right, so" she trails off "all those years of abusing you and manipulation did something to you that has you denying" she sighs "hate to say it, Josh" her fingers come up to trace his lips
"But you're doing the same thing he did to you to everyone else" he shakes his head disagreeing "you wouldn't have crashed out if your mind wasn't screwed up because of him after all these years" Jey sighs knowing she was right but he wasn't in the mood to let her know that, "not true" he growls as she pulls on his beard to bring him even closer "it's true" she whispers against his lips "you know I'm right" he scoffs as he lets go of her throat and picks her up quick before carrying her over and throwing her onto the bed.
She climbs up a little bit as she sits up watching him tear his shirt off before climbing over her, caging her as he stares at her with mixed emotions before sitting up and pulling her onto his lap, he rips her shirt off he sees her bottom lip curl into a pout "my favorite shirt" she whines out, he laughs "can get another one, you'll be fine" he says softly before connecting his lips with hers, she cups his cheeks with the palms of her hands as his roam the skin of the upper half of her body. He unclips her bra and throws it somewhere on the floor behind them before pulling her closer, body to body. The warmth feeling like some kind of enchanting power being casted through their every touch.
"Josh" the smaller female breathes out "need you so bad" she whines shyly, he laughs breathlessly "La'u Manamea" she whines at the tone of his voice, that nickname always sounding so pretty coming from his lips, sending shivers through her body as she feels herself get wetter.
"Don't think you deserve it, La'u Manamea" he whispers against her neck, she pulls on his hair "you know you want to, you've been so busy with work" she softly says as she tries to grind against his crotch but his fingers digging into her hips to stop her movements "you've been so busy, we haven't fucked in a while" she softly says, he hums in thought "damn we haven't huh" he chuckles darkly
"But I don't know, you're over there agreeing with my twin and shit"
She rolls her eyes pulling him up by the hair to face her, she grabs a fist full of his beard to bring him close to her face "you're making enemies because your cousin is feeding you lies and I'm just trying to save you from him" she snarls "I'm listening, you are not"
He laughs breathlessly in annoyance before reaching up to grab her by the throat and pushes her down into the mattress hovering over her "how about" she inhales sharply "fuck some sense into me" she smirks as she feels his fingers tingling around her throat "maybe you'll knock the sense so good into me, I'll side with you and your little crash out"
He laughs "you just want to get dicked" she nods "obviously" her free hand reaches down and grabs the budge in his pants causing him to let out the breath he was holding, she squeezes it "you know you want inside" she pouts innocently, he growls in frustration as he quickly pulls her pants off along with his.
He looks down with an eyebrow raise "you weren't wearing underwear, Alaula" she shrugs "they get in the way" he chuckles rolling his eyes before leaning up and pulling her by the hair till she's on her knees in front of him, he roughly grabs her and turns her around to push her face down into the mattress, pulling her waist up, he hovers over her, kissing her neck before making his way down her back as his hands roam her honey toned body, digging his nails in her skin with little squeezes before slithering down to her pussy, he sits back as he pulls her cheeks apart, he hums in approval "already so wet and we haven't done shit" his voice is so dark and raspy, he slowly begins to rub her clit before slipping two fingers inside of her, she clutches the sheets as she lets out a breath of air that she didn't realize she was holding.
He slowly begins thrusting inside her he listens to her sweets moans get louder. He kisses her back just before taking his free hand and tangling his fingers into her indigo colored hair and pulls her up with her back against his front side as he fingers deeper inside of her, her head falls back on his shoulder as she becomes breathless and into cloud nine just by his pretty fingers
"look at you, La'u Tausala" he whispers against her ear "you're just so pretty" he nibbles on her earrings "sounding so good, so wrecked just by my fingers."
No matter what, he's always going to praise her, tell her how good she is, how pretty she is, how much he loves her. He knows how weak it makes her, trapping her under his enchanting spell.
He pushes her back down as he fingers her deeper just before lowering down and slips his tongue inside of her, "oh god" she breathlessly whines out her eyes shoot open from the pleasure shooting through her body, eyebrows farrowed, back arched.
But as she looks to the left side, she notices the big mirror on the wall which gives her the view of her husband behind her. It's probably the second hottest thing she has witnessed and it does nothing but drive her to an orgasm. She gasps out so loud trying to breathe in-between moans as her body shakes and twitches.
Jey hums against her in annoyance as he pulls away from her, licking the taste of her off his lips, "cumming without my permission huh" he hisses out just before leaning up. "Need to teach you a lesson" he hums softly as she watches him align his dick to her before pushing in, she gasps so loudly as he stretches her open, "good girl, la'u tausala" he softly moans out "taking me so well, look at you" she smiles to herself because she is looking at herself getting fucked by her husband and it's just a gorgeous sight to look at.
She watches his hip movements, his dick slipping in and out of her but she loses her mind completely when she looks up at the Samoan man's face, his pretty face filled with pure lust and enjoyment, his brown curly hair sticking to his forehead, his lips parted as he quietly gasps for air "pretty pretty baby", his head falls back as he closes his eyes as he begins to thrust faster, nails digging into her hips "if- god if anything" she tries to speak in-between moans, his head snaps forward as he hears her pretty wrecked voice..
"Talk to me baby, what's up"
God there's the one damn line that manages to destroy her so good. "If anything, you look so fucking good yourself" she whines out "looking so fucking amazing while fucking me" he raises an eyebrow curious on what she's meaning then he realizes before looking to the left completely forgetting about the big mirror on the wall.
"Ohhh shit" he breathlessly chuckles just before he makes eye contact with her through the mirror, he growls at himself because she looks so weak and fucked out by him, "you like watching yourself get fucked huh" he hums "naughty girl" he moans out before reaching down to grab a fist full of her hair and pulling her back up against his chest.
He wraps his arm around her waist thrusting deeper inside of her, he positions the both of them to face the mirror as he continues thrusting harder inside of her. He kisses and sucks on her neck as he drinks in every little sound escaping her lips "told you huh" he whispers "you look so good taking my dick, don't you manamea~" she nods tiredly and breathlessly. He smirks at a sudden idea, he bites into her neck before pulling away, he wraps his arm around her, putting her into a headlock and flexes his bicep, he sees her smile.
"Look at you, baby" he snickers "pretty girl, La'u Manamea.." he moans out "doing so damn good, taking me so well" he squeezes his bicep causing her to lose her breath for a moment, she gulps for air "I'm so close again, please"
he hums in thought "I don't know, baby" he thrusts harder and faster inside of her "I don't think you learned anything tonight" she whines out "you were right, Joshua" he chuckles darkly "learned my lesson" she cries out in pleasure "that's right, princess" he breathlessly chuckles "good girl" he praises her "watch yourself cum all over me" he squeezes his bicep tight before pulling away and grabbing her hips to push himself deeper inside her, he pulls her hair "cum together" she moans out, nearly a breathless shout.
"Together" he moans out before biting and sinking his teeth into her neck , she gasps for air as her body shivers in pleasure "there you go, baby, good girl, so damn good" he continues praising her as she continues to cum all over him as he fills her up to the brim "feel so full" she gulps for air "did so good baby, proud of you" she smiles tiredly.
Jey slowly pulls out and gently lays her down before getting up grabbing a wash cloth, making sure to warm it up before coming back and gently cleans her off "pretty baby" he whispers before laying down beside her and pulling her into a gentle kiss
"I am sorry for getting mad at you" he sweetly says as he pushes her hair behind her ear "you were right about everything and I'm sorry for making you feel like that" she sighs "you've been so stressed about work, I wasn't there to help" she smiles as she rubs her thumb against his cheek
"you'll get your title back, I know you will" she reinsures him "you've been so hard on herself, you need to give yourself a break before you have another crash out and take out the wrong people" he nods
"I'm learning, I'm trying" she hums "you're doing your best, Josh." He pulls her into a hug, kissing her head as he rubs her back "I love you, Alaula" she smiles as she lays her head against his chest "I love you, Joshua, always" He whispers "forever la'u manamea."
authors note: so, i started writing this with the intention of it being an unimportant short prompted by several asks wanting a sugar baby au. it ended up being 7k....yikes.
please excuse the fact that it's all in lower case. i was far too lazy and uncaring enough to go back and correct that. it is what it is.
these characters are the main protagonists from my ’looking through your eyes’ series, but this can 1000% be read as a standalone.
word count: 7k (w/ change)
song inspo: always be my baby by mariah carey // icy girl by saweetie
warnings: angst. smut. age gap (16 years). vaginal penetration. cock warming. dirty talk (he believes in talking her through it). unprotected sex. multiple positions. strong sugar baby dynamics.
credits: story graphic made by me. heart dividers by @dollywons, mdni, and 18+ dividers created by @anitalenia .
i never knew that i could be comfortable with silence until him. never knew that it was a thing one could learn to sit with, maybe even enjoy, until it became somewhat a natural part of our routine. not always. some days, he's more talkative than others. asks me questions about myself. shares certain things about himself. but, then there are days where no more than five to ten words are shared between us outside of whatever slips out of our mouths when we're intimate.
fucking. that's what my cousin, best friend, and roommate, roxy calls it. what i should call it. an accurate description but something that feels....wrong. no more wrong than this whole arrangement, but i digress.
a soft sigh escapes my mouth as i move my pencil over the pages, tracing the outline of the bare skeletons i'd sketched yesterday evening. i wasn't exactly sure what it was then, and i'm not sure i'm any closer to knowing now. but, that's always been a part of the beauty i find in art. i don't have to know where i'm going. it's not necessarily the knowledge of the destination that's important in as much as enjoying the process along the way that matters most.
a theme that seems to apply to more than just my art these days.
a louder sigh drags my attention from the sketchbook to the man i try not to think too much about if i don't have to. he's confusing. has been since the first time we met, which feels like forever ago, but has only been a couple weeks. roxy and my aunt egypt say it has something to do with him being older, but i'm not sure. possibly. regardless, i try not to think of that too much to. of what it means that i've more or less allowed myself to be used and objectified sexually by a man 16 years my senior. 24, and the summer sugar baby for a man freshly turned 40.
avoidance truly is my saving grace.
he doesn't look at me, doesn't lift his gaze from the laptop in front of him, screen partially reflecting off the the black rimmed glasses that sit perfectly on the bridge of his nose. his lips, full and soft, pulled into a sort of scowl. but, that's nothing new. in the little time i have known him, i've come to find that roman reigns is a man who lives only between the neighborhoods of irritated, borderline irritated, and post irritation. thought that last one is most preferred. he's easier, smiling, less tense and....big. his size is one thing, but it's less the stature and build of the man and more the energy he brings when he's upset.
i've witnessed and been privy to an angry roman reigns, something i'd prefer to avoid for the rest of this experience, if possible. he doesn't scare me, but he is scary, and it's an uncomfortable situation all around.
one i don't want to experience again.
ever.
"sola."
it's only when he says my name that i realize i'd stopped staring at some point and resumed drawing. his use of my nickname still something i haven't decided if i hate or like. similar to my feelings towards him.
biting down on my bottom lip, i look over my shoulder, mindful of my tone and volume. "yes?"
he doesn't waste any time. forever a prompt man. "come here."
such a simple directive shouldn't make my stomach coil or the moisture in the back of my throat dry. nor should it cause the grip on the pencil in my hand to tighten. visceral responses as such don't make a lot of sense, but he, this whole arrangement, and everything else, don't seem to make a lot of sense, either, so it tracks.
letting the pencil drop and rest against my sketchbook, i move from off my stomach, making sure to adjust my short gown as i stand from the bed. the fact that he doesn't even bother to look my way as i make my way over to him leaves me with mixed feelings.
especially when i'm standing directly in front of him, and he says nothing, just continues to type and focus on the screen like i'm not standing there, looking and feeling stupid.
a good minute stretches between us, filled with a silence i suddenly can't handle. "ye—"
"take off your panties."
it shouldn't. it shouldn't. it shouldn't make me still like it does, have my thighs clenching together the way they do. this whole thing has consisted of nothing but sex and most things sex related, so him initiating it at this point should be old news. and yet, every time, i feel that hint of anxiety build. a sort of panic. a nervousness.
except, it's for a bit of a different reason. mostly regarding why i can't follow through on his request.
"i....i....." he continues to type away, acting as if he can't feel or sense the trepidation that brews in the pit of my belly. "i'm not wearing any."
then, only then, do i earn his gaze. dark, sultry, hardened. my eyes never leave him, observe the way he immediately stops typing and sits back in the chair. broad, muscular shoulders squared, eyes narrowing, hand up and finger beckoning me closer.
i don't need to be told twice.
the minute i'm close enough, he tugs me between his thick spread legs. his hands moving under my short, skimpy gown, a purchase by him, eyes dropping to my exposed cunt. his big hand moves over the globe of my ass, squeezing. eyes closing, i can only make out the sound of his low hiss and something else.
a muttered statement in another language. he does that a lot. says what he knows i cannot understand. intentional. i'm sure.
my time for questions is a non-factor as he suddenly turns me around, so i'm facing the open layout of the villa, the wall of windows on the other side of the bedroom that provide a beautiful view of what i'll never in life again experience after this. after whatever this is concludes.
i'm half expecting him to rip my gown off entirely, but the sound of clothes shuffling, movement in the seat is all i'm met with followed by the tug of me onto his lap.
a quiet gasp slipping out at the feel of skin on skin, his hardened, warm member against the small of my back. the way my hands move to grip the edges of his desk as he lifts me up just enough to slide in, inch by inch, that length and girth stretching my walls, acclimating me to him, into my wet, welcomed, warmth.
more unmet expectations when instead of bending me over the desk, forcing the laptop to shut, i'm instead tugged back against his chest. naturally, my palms land against his forearm, secured around my stomach, keeping me close and near as he's settled inside me.
a heavy, shaky sigh. "rom—"
"sit," is the only command i receive. nothing else. no promise that it'll lead to more once he's completed his work or even the simple order to ride him. just a simple one word directive.
i want to protest, want to defy, want to gradually ease myself back and forth on him, to give us both what i know can only be enjoyable. but, i don't. i don't for reasons i don't entirely understand. the same way i don't understand him.
i'm not sure i ever will.
"how did you get into drawing?"
oh.
it's a talk day for him, clearly. another thing i feel unsure about. sometimes talking with him is nice. other days, it feels wrong. this is a business transaction. personal questions and anything of that nature should be off the table. when all is said and done, he will go on with his life, and i will go on with mine. what reason or need is there for anything beyond basic business formalities that weren't laid out in the iron-clad contract that i signed?
again....confusing.
"my mom. she's an art teacher." i could offer more, share stories of how some of my favorite memories are those warm, summer days spent in mexico, outside drawing or painting with my mother and abuela. a shared, love and passion amongst three generations. the funny recollections of all the times i tried to help my dad learn the basics of art. epic and complete disasters every time. hilarious moments that i'll always hold onto.
but, they're mine. and, while he might own my body for the duration of this contract, there are some things i won't allow. won't give him access to.
can't.
he says nothing, adjusting me as he moves one hand to the keyboard, continuing to type. a part of me wonders if he just assumes i'll look away and avoid contact with whatever he's working. i do, because i don't care, and because i have much more important things to worry about like the fact that he's so deep inside me, and i can't do anything about it.
damn.
"you didn't want to be one, too?"
another question i don't necessarily feel like answering but do anyway. "i don't think art is something that should be taught."
a quiet chuckle, my eyes shutting as he shifts ever so slightly. i wonder if it was on purpose. most likely. i learned quickly his preference to.....tease when it comes to the carnal nature of this agreement. "didn't your mom teach you?"
"well, yes, but....that's different."
another sound and another shift. "how?"
a low, elongated sigh, as i bite down on my bottom lip and continue to bite back the urge to say fuck it, and fuck him. "that was p—personal. a f—amily thing."
"you're close with your family." an observation versus a question.
hesitation. "yes." more hesitation followed by an absolute freudian slip of sorts. "are you?"
right away, i'd give anything to snatch it back. to tuck it back into wherever it came, because why would i ask him that? i don't need to know anything about this man outside of the few things he's shared, and they've been minimal, to say the least. so, why?
his reply is gruff, and the shift in his tone audible. " a few."
and, because i clearly left my senses back in the states. "the twins you were with that night....."
"they're probably the two i'm closest with out of anyone in my family." i don't know how i can tell he has that small smirk on his face, but i can. i just can. "them, and my cousin, dwayne, and brother, matteo." a quick add on, almost casually. "you'll meet them when we go to italy."
it's only in that moment i learn that italy is on the agenda of this almost tour of his. i don't ask questions about the itinerary. just follow his lead, as per the contract. that part is not entirely legally forbidden. i can ask questions. i just don't.
unless they're about his family, apparently.
"i....i didn't know you have a brother." nor is there a real reason i should know, but there's just something about him, about his demeanor that always presented with only child energy. whatever that means. i'm not sure. just never would have guessed it.
"half brother," an almost muttered explanation as his hand splays across my stomach, under the material of my silky, skimpy gown that probably cost more than my share of rent. "it's....complicated."
i believe it.
i'm not sure if he can tell and pick up on my dissatisfaction with this teasing, but the feel of him moving, lifting his hips just enough to thrust into me has my head lolled back against his shoulder, nails digging into his forearm.
that relieved, elongated moan and a sigh dancing out, as i feel his minty breath on my cheek.
his soft lips are against the apple of my cheek, voice haughty, "you always this needy for dick, princess?"
not until him.
no, before this man with the handsome smile, endless pockets, and dangerous dick, my sexual experience was....subpar, to say the least. two sexual partners, one being my first. 3/10. the second being my ex who gave me the good ole 'i just want to focus on myself for a little while' only for me to run into that girl he continuously told me, 'don't worry about her' at the cinema less than a month later.
-100/10
it was hit or miss if either made me come. damn sure never made me squirt, and both loved to ask for some head but rarely ever wanted to reciprocate.
night and day from the man who's gradually starting to fuck me. i didn't think it was possible for me to come the way he's made me orgasm. damn sure never thought i would ever squirt. and, God bless men who eat pussy freely and happily.
it's roman. he's men.
a different, pleasurable experience that makes this whole prostitution arrangement that much easier to digest.
prostitution.
just thinking the word makes me frown, the feel of roman's lips on the side of my neck distracting but not distracting enough.
i try not to think of it from that perspective. even if it's true. even if this "sugar baby" label is nothing more than a euphemism for being a hooker. i'm being paid for my service. for sex. he's paying to fuck me. yes, there are times where it's not just sex. where he just wants to see me in lingerie. sometimes in nothing. sometimes he just wants to watch me. see me come undone on the bed as i finger myself, all the while he sits across the room, stroking that lethal dick of his. sometimes, he comes on me. sometimes, he comes in me.
another thing touched on in the contract. the importance of protection. "safeguards to avoid unintentional impregnation," to be more legally specific.
we're always safe though, so there's that, at least. for....for the most part. sometimes, we're reckless. get lost in the heat of the carnal moment, but that's what plan b's are for. i've had to pop a few, more than i'd like to admit, especially considering that is not what they're for. but, the last thing i need is that as a result of this.
and, sometimes, sometimes, the time for sex is limited, because he's gone, off working or doing...whatever it is he does when i'm not with him. that's when the more traditional aspect of this whole thing kicks into play. when he leaves me at some store with a name i can't pronounce and a card that has no limit.
his hand leaving mine, a quick palming of my ass, and a kiss to my forehead as he leaves the team of workers he makes tend to me with a simple order. "give her whatever she wants."
a general, shared command for wherever we go. money is just a thing to him. consistent and in endless supply. the first time he took me shopping, that was a concept i hadn't completely grasped. his wealth something i still don't fully understand. i just know that he's rich. filthy freaking rich, and he doesn't even bother checking totals before pulling out or handing me that sleek black card. sometimes, it's cash. wads and wads of stacks of money that some people don't even see in dreams, and he treats like it's replaceable. because, it is.
just like me.
and then, there are other times where it's less traditional. fancy dinners, sure, probably a typical thing with a sugar baby arrangement. but, it's the way he holds my hand, keeps me close, takes me out as if this is real. as if we're this rich couple living and enjoying life.
one part of that is true. the other is not. the aesthetic does not match the story. a story only a few know. like his close friend and personal guard he leaves me with when he doesn't attend the shopping sprees, spa days, and/or lunches/dinners.
dean. a quiet, partially strange man i've learned is unapologetically his weird self but also....kind. we've only spoken on a few occasions, and each time has peeled back the layer of a man who can easily go from cracking a small smile with me, to sending the most murderous glance to random local whose gaze lingers on me a bit too long. or, at all, if it's roman.
there's a....protectiveness over me i've noticed within roman. or, maybe it's possessiveness. i'm not sure. another thing i try not to look too into.
once this is over, once i've fulfilled my contractual obligation and collected my 500k, i plan to swipe and erase this whole thing from my recollection. i don't know how roxy does it, or perhaps it's the fact that my first sugar baby arrangement ended up being the accompanying of a mafia kingpin on his summer vacation across the globe.
go big, or go home, i suppose. i'd prefer to go home, if possible, but i signed an agreement. agreed to this, so it's a lot of coping and a hell of a lot reminding. reminding that this is a means to an end, that i can get whatever therapy i'll need after this whole ordeal is over with using the half a mil i'm set to receive because of it. i'll never have to work again, never have to worry about not having enough of anything. and for that, i have him to thank. i can't and won't deny him that much.
everything else though....debatable.
thankfully, the time for getting to know each other is over before it can truly start. his hand is on the small of my back, pushing me forward, cheek pressed into the top of the laptop that's now closed as he refocuses his attention on the new task at hand.
"my princess loves when i stretch this pretty little pussy like this, huh?" his big hand spreads my ass cheeks, slips in between as his thumb probes my asshole.
that's been off limits the entire trip. some things are just too much, and that's definitely one of them. doesn't mean he hasn't teased, or that i didn't enjoy it.
that i haven't enjoyed any of the times he's split me open, spread me out, or bent me over the nearest surface.
can't and won't deny that.
my moans bleed into the cool aluminum, fingers grasping the edge of the desk at he fucks into me. "please..."
he sighs like he knows something, like he understands what courses through my body as he digs into me like he's searching for something, trying to prove something, trying to leave every hint, trace, and sign of himself in the deepest parts of me.
i feel his hand caressing the back of my head. “just take it, princess. let your tribal chief fill his pussy up.”
much easier said than done, especially when he stands up, forcing me onto my feet, my upper body practically spread across the desk. when he lifts my left leg up, forcing the inner part of my knee onto said desk so he can deepen his reach.
"oh shit," i pant, whining and withering underneath the weight of him atop me. his pace moves from tantalizing and teasingly slow to something quicker, hastier, desperate.
"you feel that, princess?" his deep voice barely registers, my senses too far gone and deep into the pleasure that rocks throughout my whole body. "feel how deep i'm in this tight ass pussy?"
"yes, fuck, yes," another moaned, pathetic response as my body jerks against the same piece of furniture he had me plopped on top of not even eight hours ago while he ate me out until i had to physically push him away.
for a man in his forties, his stamina is otherworldly. i didn't know sex drives this high existed for men outside of porn.
or, maybe he's just the exception.
the tears brimming in my eyes, as i whine once more, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room the same way he fills me. "it's too big," i moan, reaching behind him. limited experience or not, i know enough to know this man was blessed more than the average man, and as amazing as it and he feels, it's sometimes too much.
in more than one area.
he continues to stroke my hair, "i know, but you're taking it so well, baby."
the best and worst thing to say, because it kickstarts that urge to please him. to make him feel good. to almost prove that the insane amount of money he's paying for this, for me, is worth it. that i'm worth it.
my voice is low but loud enough for him to hear. "bed...."
and, he does. a gradual decline in his pace before he frees himself from me, releasing my leg, so my feet are on the ground. turning around, my gaze lifts to his, refusing to focus on his rock hard dick that drips with my slick. i instead focus on reaching up and smashing my lips onto his, the passion filling my body, coursing up and bursting through our lips dancing against one another.
his hands cup under my ass as he lifts me up, his wet member teasing my throbbing heat that aches and yearns for him. the minute he's laid back on that mattress, the rest of our clothes discarded across the floor, i waste no time in mounting back on top of him.
hands planted on his abdomen, i rock against and on top of him, eyes shut, fully immersed and soaking in how good he feels inside of me.
i feel his hands planted on my hips, guiding and rocking me, "don't hold back. wanna feel you..."
his words yoke out that moan i was trying to repress, the scream i want to keep tucked and hidden away. i've always found the dramatics of porn unappealing, saw straight through the obvious theatrical performance of it all, hence my only intermittent viewings.
but, there's nothing performative about the sounds that leave my mouth when it's just the two of us. the pleasure he's able to bring me every single time.
he doesn't know what a miss is, it seems. at all.
leaning forward, his mouth latching onto my nipple, one hand leaving my hips to caress my other breast. this change in angle has me whimpering, my palm moving and hovering over my lower belly.
this doesn't bypass him, the cruelest, most knowing smile lifting to his lips. "what, princess? is that were i am?"
only one answer that falls out my mouth as i gyrate atop him. "yes, oh my....fuck."
eventually, because i am a simple mere mortal compared to the man underneath me, the burning in my thighs become too much, my body collapsing atop his.
an inconsequential thing. "you're okay, baby." a kiss to my temple, my hands clutching his shoulders. "you're doing so good."
and, then another scream that erupts as he starts fucking into me harder. animalistic. my fingers dig into his slick skin, body nothing more than a sex rag doll. "p—please...."
a waste of time, breath, and words, as he soon flips us over, pushes my legs back, knees by my ear, cunt stretched and dripping all over him and this bed we're bound to ruin before the end of the day.
similar to every bed we've encountered since the inception of the trip.
"eyes on me, baby girl. i like to see you come apart."
a difficult, arduous task, but one i manage as i force my eyes open, vision blurred from my tears. i can only make out the shape of him, the way his hair, freed from the typical that keeps it tucked back and out of the way, frames that same aged but handsome face. his sex faces, a perfect combination of determined and gone. he's just as gone as i am, just much better with holding it in.
he's so....controlled in ways that i envy sometimes.
envy him.
it's another one of those heat of the moment thing as he explodes inside of me, filling me to the point where it drips out and onto these expensive sheets that probably cost more than my wardrobe put together. well, old wardrobe, because lord knows i'll be traveling back home with a collection of new items.
except, instead of working to catch my breath so i can get up, shower, and make sure to pop that pill before i step out of the bathroom, he has other things on his mind for me. for my body.
"you done?" eyes fluttering open, my mouth parts as his thumb tugs on my bottom lip, as if trying to beckon a response he doesn't actually care to hear. "that's too bad." i can barely register what's happening when he suddenly has me on my stomach, his once more hardened dick, stretching me once more, slow inch by slow inch. "cause i'm not."
---------
three months goes by a lot quicker and slower than i expected. some days, i was ready to go home. others, i dreaded the end date. and then, somewhere in between, i wasn't sure where i stood on things. and, most of those days were spurned by his....confusing behavior. when he'd hold me close to him, stroke the small of my back, ask me questions about myself, my life.
share things about himself.
the dinners that lasted far beyond the consumption of our meals and desserts. the evenings where he didn't touch me. didn't even try. just sat on the sofa with me, my back into his side, his long fingers caressing my skin as he watched me draw.
lovers who weren't lovers. the....domestic moments that didn't make sense for the business arrangement this is. or, was. i'm not sure anymore, because somewhere along the way, i started to crave it. crave the way he held me, how his eyes never left mine when we spoke, and i shared personal things about myself. when he shared personal things with me. the way we shared showers, his gentle touch moving the cloth over my body to clean me. the way i took just as much care to clean him, shampooed his hair. the way he sat in between my legs as i did his hair for him. interactions that didn't make any sense but felt right.
he started to feel right.
this started to feel right.
and i....i started to feel things, things far too inappropriate and a stark contrast to the contract i signed to ensure none of this happened. if only dried ink was stronger than the emotions that filled me whenever he held me, smiled at me, made me feel things i always read about but never experienced.
until him.
and, it was the night before we were set to fly back home, the official conclusion of this....adventure of sorts. our bodies tangled, sweat still lingering from the way he took me. not from behind. not in the mirror. just traditional missionary, his eyes never leaving mine, praises on repeat from his mouth, dripping and pouring into me, as i clutched his ass, wanting to feel him as deep as i could. wanting to melt and mold him into me, because if this was the last time, i wanted to remember and never forget it.
never forget him.
i was pressed into him, body practically sprawled on top of his, fingers absently tracing the ink on his chest. silence graced the room, the open doors of the balcony welcoming in the distant sound of the city that closed our trip. a city whose beauty is unlike any i've ever seen, but came not even closet to the beaty of the man under me. the time spent with him.
my eyes began to close, the exhaustion of the day and evening taking its toll. i pressed a kiss against his chest, murmuring a quiet, "good night" into his skin. he didn't say anything, not at first. not until the weight of sleep carried me into a place where i couldn't follow up and ask what he meant, a low "ou te alofa ia te oe" unknowingly being the last thing i would hear from him.
ever.
------
i woke up alone. roman wasn't in bed beside me. nor, was he in the shower or any other area of the penthouse, and the thought that he'd left to handle last minute business was quickly dispelled by the absence of his luggage. any trace of him gone.
a reality that had my chest feeling like it was closing in on itself, especially when a knock on the door that i prayed was him, only brought me face to face with paul. roman's chief advisor.
he wore that same smile that never settled well with me. his chubby face ruddy and somewhat sweaty, as he reached over an envelope.
my trembling hands struggled to open what i already knew what to expect.
"the tribal chief extends his deepest gratitude for your companionship these past three months and has extended the rental until the end of the week to give you time—"
"where is he?" i hated it. hated how empty and devasted i sounded. hated the way i couldn't prevent the blurring of my eyes. not that it really made a difference to the man before me.
he proceeded to completely ignore my question. "your flight home will be on another of the tribal chief's private jet's, and we will assure...." i just remember tuning him out after that, my mind too all over the place to even notice in that moment how the check he'd asked his advisor to leave with me was not for $500,000.00.
it was for $750,000.00.
three quarters of a million dollars that felt like nothing. i felt like nothing. he left. just up and left without a single word, not a goodbye, not an awkward parting conversation.
nothing.
because that's what this was, what i was, nothing.
and, i was the stupid, naive girl to think otherwise.
to feel otherwise.
to feel anything at all.
--------
the return home was a struggle. i don't think i was depressed, but i certainly wasn't happy. i stayed in my room for almost a week, barely ate, rarely left the house. just laid in bed, cried, sobbed, all while unsure as to just what to feel.
i'd never had my heart broken before that, had heard stories of girls over the years, comforted roxy as she cried into my lap over her own experience when we were still in high school, but that was truly my first experience with such a thing, and God was it painful. all i could think about was him. us. every experience, every touch, every kiss, every time he slid inside me, releasing that big sigh of relief, the way he held me afterwards. the conversations, the smiles, the laughs, the way he looked at me. made me feel like nothing else mattered but me. like his universe was my smile, and my home, his embrace.
i remembered it all.
and, then i remembered the feel of waking up alone, naked, in a cold bed without the feel of his arms around me, the sound of his deep voice as he muttered a sleepy, "morning, princess" in my ear and pecked my temple. our morning routine we'd fallen into that usually ended up with him inside me or his face buried between my legs.
i was alone. he left me alone.
he left me.
and, then after the hurt and pain came the anger.
but, it felt wrong being angry and upset with him, because he never promised me anything. he was transparent, in a sense, from the very beginning. laid out exactly what things were in a binding agreement that i signed freely. the were no lies, no subterfuge, no usury. none of that.
but, it's exactly what i felt. i felt used, lied to, manipulated, taken advantage of. like i was sold one thing, received another, promised something else, and then robbed all at once.
roxy tried to remind me to look at the "bright side" of things. i had my money. more money than i'd probably ever be able to spend in this lifetime.
bank account $750k richer, and, it meant nothing. it didn't make me feel anything. i didn't want to feel anything. didn't know how. except, suddenly, a few weeks after being home, i did start to feel things.
not emotions.
physical things.
food i couldn't keep down. nausea that wouldn't go away. breast that were suddenly sore outside of my pms and period window.
a period that i hadn't received.
i didn't need to take a test, didn't need a doctor to confirm what i already knew to be true. i just knew.
knew what it was. knew that while he had abandoned me, he hadn't left me with nothing to show for it.
and, it had nothing to do with the financial compensation.
i booked the appointment a few days after having it confirmed. no other option or choice came to mind. it was the right thing to do. what i wanted to do.
at least, that's what i thought in the days leading up. even as i sat in the exam room, robe on, simply waiting for the doctor to come in and rid me of this sudden problem. except, it was only then that i realized i didn't see it as a problem. didn't feel like it was a problem. in some strange sort of way, i felt like it as a gift.
i didn't have him anymore. i'd never had him in the first place, only foolishly and naively convinced myself that i did. but, i didn't, and i never would again. but, what i did have was a part of him. something that would always keep me connected to him, because as much as i was hurt by and angered with him, the opposite of it was just as true.
i missed him. loved him. had fallen in love with him, and getting rid of the only thing that could forever keep me tied to him felt wrong. it wasn't what i wanted.
so, i didn't do it. i walked out of that clinic, unborn child still in my stomach, roxy confused but supportive of this sudden change, with a new determination. i didn't need to tell him. didn't want to. he didn't deserve to know, nor would he probably want to know that one of the stipulations in the contract was broken. he most certainly put that section in there about avoiding pregnancies for a reason. because it wasn't what he wanted.
he would never want or acknowledge this baby.
the same way he never really wanted or acknowledged me.
and suddenly, that was okay. i was okay with that. i didn't need him.
never did.
i had my baby, not ours, but mine, and that was all that mattered.
---------
the belief that God has a sense of humor is something i've always agreed with. some things just being too unreal for it to not be true.
like when i found out the probable reason that roman left without a word, abandoned me and acted like the three months we spent together meant nothing to him.
because, they didn't.
they didn't, because it was nothing more than a final act of freedom.
a final fun thing for him to do before he bound himself to a woman for the rest of his life.
he was engaged. set to be married to a long-time fling turned fiancé now wife. now mother of his child.
because, not only was she his fiancé, she was his pregnant fiancé.
the whole time he was with me, a woman waited for him back home for him to give her his last name as she carried his first child.
i'm not sure how that didn't break me. didn't cause me to crumble, lock myself away and never return to the light. it crushed me, for certain, but also reaffirmed what i'd already realized. i was 100% used, but at the same time, i allowed myself to be used. as much anger i had for him, i had for myself.
but, they were feelings i had to shove and push away, as i focused on myself, my life, and the lives i was preparing to bring into the world.
because, of course, getting pregnant by my former sugar daddy with a single child wasn't enough. two also wasn't enough. no, three, triplets, was the only right thing.
he'd left me one, two, three reminders of the time we spent together. one baby for every month, according to roxy.
yeah....God has a big sense of humor.
so, even if for some reason i wanted to tell him about the babies, there was no way i could. no way he'd believe that he impregnated me with three children. granted, it wouldn't make much sense for him to try to deny what math and logic support. i was with him and only him, sexually and every other way, that entire time, as per the contract. but, it didn't matter, as i would learn he and his new wife welcomed a son.
she'd given him an heir.
i would only give him bastards.
she was his future.
i was the past he'd probably already forgotten.
nothing good could come out of it, and i....i accepted that, accepted that some things are better left untouched. that that chapter of my life was over, and my focus was better served on my future. a future that revolved around my children.
savannah, santana, and natano. my beautiful baby girls and handsome baby boy. they became my focus and the three individuals my whole world was suddenly focused around. motherhood unlocked a part of my heart i hadn't realized was unexplored. deepened the love i didn't know a human could have for another. my babies have become my entire world. they healed a part of me i didn't think could ever be healed.
they are my healing.
"mommy!" the chorus of giggling breaks me from my deep reflections of a time that feels so long ago instead of the almost three years prior. the smile on my face deepening, seeing the way three sets of little legs move across my backyard, chasing roxy. the sight of my mom shaking her head with that warm grin, as she stands near my dad who works to grill the burgers we'll eat later on.
they come to visit as much as they can, my mom and abuela more or less living with me when the kids were still babies.
a part of me feels bad, and probably always will, when i think of all the lies i had to tell from the beginning, regarding what happened all the way up until now. the lies that i'll always have to tell. this tale of a one night stand with a stranger leaving me knocked up. the way they believe i spent those three months with my aunt egypt, a traveler by nature. the fact that she, and roxanne, will always have to live by that lie. something both have expressed understanding and agreement with, but something i'm still not okay with. i love my family more than anything. they've always been so good to me and my rock as i entered motherhood.
i just hope one day, somehow, i can be honest with them.
hopefully.
i quickly set aside the sketchbook in my lap to prepare for the way natano, tano, slams into me. making a fake groaning sound, his big brown eyes lift up to mine, that smile, his smile, melting away any lingering emotions that time brings up. my hands go to his face, holding his cheeks gingerly, studying him. the way his long black hair, curls looser than that of his sisters', frame his face. his face.
some days, all i see in them, especially tano, is roman. even more when they're upset. their scowl is his scowl. other days, i only see myself. mostly in their smile, which is still a bit of him as well.
all days though, all i feel is their love.
i hold him close to me, soaking in all of the ardent joy he grants and gives me. "my baby boy...." his hugs are unlike anything else. the girls', too, but there's always something so comforting in the way he hugs and loves on me. at only two, i can already see the natural way he's falling into the "mama's boy" category. i am his entire world, and vice versa. the same for all the kids, but there's almost this seed of protectiveness that i can see only growing over the years. over myself and his sisters as well.
more footsteps, as savy and tana surround me, tugging on my arm, savy bouncing happily. "let's play, mommy!"
of the three of them, she's the most extroverted and outspoken. tano and tana have their moments, but it's more consistent with her.
the most playful tone i can muster as i reach over to lightly tickle her stomach. "you want me to play?"
"duh," roxanne speaks from the middle of the yard, a teasing smile on her face. she more or less lives with me in the beautiful six bedroom, four bathroom home i purchased while still pregnant with the triplets. a nice, family friendly neighborhood tucked in the suburbs right outside the city, it's in a great school district and only 15 minutes away from the art studio i opened shortly before the kids turned one.
it's been a busy past few years, and i can never deny the fact that the money i earned from that summer has changed my life for the better. not to mention, i still have plenty left over, even after investing a chunk, as per the suggestion and guidance of the giver himself.
it was one of our pillow talk conversations. his financial advice and even recommendation that i consult with his own financial advisor, seth rollins. something i eventually decided to, after realizing my conversations and interactions with seth are far and few in between. he only needs to know certain information about my personal life, most of it being my finances and business. nothing about the kids. at some point, i will have to switch to someone else. to not use someone so close to him, but that's a task for another day.
"food will be ready in about fifteen, so get it in while you can," my dad announces, my babies continuing to tug on me, eager for my participation. it's only because my parents are busy preparing dinner that they're not all over them versus myself and roxanne. they adore my parents and abuela.
my older cousin, trick, as well, who will be making a surprise appearance later on. tano especially loves him, and i love that for him. with tano's dad not being in his life, it's important to me he still has strong male role models to look up to and guide him. and, i know no better men than my father and cousin who's always been more like a big brother than anything.
and while, unlike my parents and abuela, i can tell he knows there's more to the story regarding the kids' dad, he's always been respectful and not pushed.
for now, at least.
"okay," i fake a long sigh, and they cheer happily at my acquiescence. standing up and pausing for a single second before i make a quick dash away from them, laughing and calling out, "catch me if you can!"
"no, mommy!" is all i hear followed by them scrambling to chase me down, grabbing roxanne by the arm as i quickly push for her to go the other way, throwing them off. but, my babies are smart, and there being three of them means they can split up and still win.
tana is the one to tackle me first, savy and tano landing on top of a laughing roxy.
tana clutches onto me, burying herself into my chest. my laughter loud and filling the spacious yard, my smile wide, and my heart full of so much love.
this all started out so strange, wrong even. i got my heart broke without even realizing it was on the line in the first place, experiencing some of the worst, heaviest, and deepest pain that i've ever experienced.
but i'd do it all over again if i had to.
i would. my babies are worth it. the life i've been able to provide them, the beautiful home i was able to purchase and will raise them in, the support of my family and friends, makes it all worth it.
and maybe...maybe more.
i've been on a couple dating apps the past few weeks at the strong urging of my aunt and roxy who believe it's time i try to start dating again. i'm not entirely opposed. i'm just so busy most days with the kids as well as my studio. my priorities have been my family and my business. that doesn't mean, i can admit, i can't make time for other things.
granted, thus far, it hasn't been the smoothest experience. i've matched with a couple guys, spoken to some, but only gone out on a date with few. a conversation with a seemingly sweet man named joe hendry went nowhere as he disappeared the minute i shared i'm a mother of three. he unmatched and blocked me.
another guy, atlas, sweet, handsome, with a personality similar to my own, was promising. we even went on a date that was pretty nice. he was a sweetheart, but even with him having a minimal reaction to my mentioning being a mother, i could see it. see that he was maybe a little naive to what it means to be dating a woman with children. especially such young children. thus, i was the one who gently broke it off. it was for the better, i know that.
atlas, however, was a contrast to the date i went on with carmelo, who left me at the table, citing an "emergency" when i mentioned the triplets, as i was trying something different. not disclosing my kids until we actually went on a date. obviously, that was not the route to go, and it wasn't even that i was trying to hide them, per se.
i'm just so protective of my children and don't plan to bring any man around them until at least a few months into dating. so, telling said men about them right out the gate feels a little uncomfortable. though, i also recognize men have the right to decide if they want to entertain a woman not even 28 who has three kids under three.
it just leaves me stuck between a rock and a hard place.
however, about two weeks ago, i made the wonderful decision to try to bring the kids with me while grocery shopping.
terrible mistake.
but, also....not.
because, it was savy dashing down the aisle, determined to grab a box of fruit loops off the shelf that allowed me, or rather my daughter, to run into him.
"whoa there, lil' lady," he spoke in a kind voice. one that matched a kind smile, my eyes bouncing back and forth between the child to the right of me and the one standing in the cart that i moved down the aisle, trying to close the gap. he looked over to the shelf, pointing at the red box. "this what you want?"
naturally, savy nodded happily and reaching greedily. i watched the way he chuckled and took the box down, handing it to her. "here ya' go, kiddo."
savy accepted said box, holding it to her chest. she then looked up with the biggest smile. "thank you!"
his grin widened watching her run back over by me as i finally closed the distance between myself and the kind stranger. savy deposited the box into the basket, while i issued an apology. "i'm so sorry."
he waved me off, shrugging his shoulders, my eyes briefly focusing on the tattoos that made up almost the entirety of both arms. "don't worry about it." he then gestured to the kids. "seems like you got your hands full."
a quiet chuckle and eye roll, as i pushed back some of my hair, tano hugging my leg. "something like that. i usually don't bring them with me, and i'm quickly remembering why."
his smile somehow widened, and i took note of the gray sprinkled in his beard. it was obvious he was older than me, but it didn't take away from how handsome he was. my eyes briefly focusing on his biceps flexing slightly as he crossed his arms. "yeah, i usually come later in the evening, but i guess it's a good thing i didn't."
my brows furrowed a bit in confusion as i pulled tana out of the cart, bending over to place her on the ground as she huddled with her siblings. standing back up and adjusting my top, his gaze was still on me. "oh? why?"
the easiest, smoothest answer. "wouldn't have ran into such a pretty lady."
it'd been so long since i'd been flirted with like that, since i'd been on the receiving end of flirting that hadn't left me feeling awkward or uncomfortable. that had my stomach filling with butterflies.
kids deep in conversation amongst themselves, stepping out of my comfort zone and moving a bit closer, i offered my hand. and, a chance. "solana."
"phil," he returned, and it didn't miss me the way his hand lingered over mine. "but, my friends call me punk."
retracting my hand, it was impossible to not giggle. "punk? feels like there's a story there."
"oh, there certainly is, and i sure wouldn't mind telling you." his eyes sparked with something. "i'd just prefer to do so over dinner."
i've gone on exactly two dates with phil since then, and both have been nice. really nice. i like him. he's kind, funny, down to earth and doesn't seem to care about the fact that i have children. seems okay with it.
he feels....promising.
despite the fact that roxy is convinced that i have some kind of deep rooted daddy issues given the "old guys" i keep going for. doubtful considering my daddy is my world, and it's not like i haven't tried for men closer to my age.
it just doesn't work out. didn't before i had kids and especially doesn't now that i do have kids. not that older means better.
look at roman.
though despite everything that happened, sometimes i still think about him. still miss him. wonder what his life is like with her. if he's happy. what he would think or do if he knew about the kids. but, then i remember why he doesn't know. that i'm sparing them the hurt he caused me, being the protective mama they need me to be. remember that they're better off without him.
Overview:
The LTYE Multiverse refers to a collection of AU's based on the original fanfic, Looking Through Your Eyes. Each 'verse' shows a 'what if' type of narrative based upon the original characters.
The Works
Looking Through Your Eyes
Standing By The Ocean
Through Your Eyes
Dreamland
In Your Hands
What The Heart Wants
The Space Between Us
Matters Of The Heart
Trials of Love
Lessons In Love
Wicked Games
My All
Midnight Sun
FAQ's
How did this whole thing come about?
The multiverse organically formed following an abundance of questions from readers of the original story. Many people were curious about 'what if' narratives that I decided to write as oneshots, shorts, and eventually chapters. Essentially, it was created out of the readers interests/asks!
Which story should I read first?
The order in which the stories are read doesn't really matter, as they're all independent from one another. I will just say that whatever story/stories you do decide to read, make sure to read the chapters/parts in chronological order to avoid getting confused/spoilers. It might be beneficial to stick with reading and catching up with the OG story before tackling AU's, as you could get a little confused. However, if you plan to skip the OG one, then start wherever you'd like.
What is the 'original' story?
Looking Through Your Eyes is the original story, as it's the first work that I created and posted before any of this came to be.
Is there mature content in the story/stories?
All of my works contain mature content (see the disclaimer on my series masterpost HERE). I will say that the original story, LTYE, contains heavy, triggering content and should only be read if you can handle the content being tackled.
Does [insert story title] have a happy ending?
To refrain from spoiling the ending of stories, I cannot answer this question. I'm sorry!
What are the differences between the stories?
Looking Through Your Eyes is the original story and shows the love story of Solana and Roman following their extremely traumatic upbringings.
Standing By The Ocean is the sequel to ltye and book 2 in the ltye og series.
Through Your Eyes is an AU where neither of the main characters experienced major trauma.
Dreamland shows Solana and Roman as parents of multiple children.
In Your Hands has Solana as a single mother and Roman the mafia boss (if only she knew that) who feels an instant connection with her and a natural bond with her daughter.
What The Heart Wants shows Solana and Roman engaging in an affair, despite him being her sister's fiancé, and she, his little sister's best friend.
The Space Between Us depicts Roman and Solana engaging in a years long affair, all while she remains married to his greatest enemy, Cody Rhodes.
Matters Of The Heart shows Solana, a struggling medical student, agreeing to be Roman's surrogate and the feelings that grow between the two along the way.
Trials Of Love covers Solana's downward spiral following her forced and arranged marriage to Roman, a man she hardly knows and one she eventually begins to hate.
Lessons In Love has Roman and Solana meeting and falling in love as young college students.
Wicked Games storyline is inspired by Cruel Intentions and shows Solana caught up in a love triangle between Roman and his older half-brother, Matteo.
My All is a Gotham aligned AU where Solana is a nurse in a maximum security prison who engages in forbidden affair with Roman, the latest prisoner.
Midnight Sun follows Roman and Solana who met as teens and reconnect as adults living two very different lives.
What if I can't handle triggering content?
Then, I would strongly advise you to stay away from the OG story. Please read the attached content/trigger warnings in the masterpost for the au's to determine a safe alternative. Dreamland, In Your Hands, and Through Your Eyes, for example, would be more appropriate options as they are significantly less triggering.
What if I have an idea for a short/oneshot?
Please feel free to send it to me via an ask or DM! I keep a list of suggestions from you guys and make my way through the list.
How often do you update [insert story title]?
I don't have an update schedule. Thus, updates for all three are sporadic. You're always free to ask me about when 'XYZ' is being updated.
I have a question that's not on this FAQ?
Send me an ask or DM, and I'll happily answer it for you. Assuming it's not a spoiler. ;)
Where can I read asks about the story/stories?
Asks for stories are linked in the masterlist for each story but can also be found by combining the name of said story with the word 'ask.' See examples below.
Dreamland questions fall under the 'dreamland ask' tag.
Looking Through Your Eyes questions fall under the 'ltye ask' tag.
Through Your Eyes fall under the 'ltye au ask' tag.
The RoSoverse refers to a collection of three books that cover the love story of the main protagonists, Roman and Solana. It's a mafia centered love story with the arranged marriage trope and set again the backdrop of a fictionalized version of Gotham, while being heavily influenced by the Bloodline. You can read an FAQ for the first book here. Book 1 covers the introduction to the main characters, Book 2 shows more of that journey, while Book 3 is the conclusion. Book 1 is completed, but Book 2 and 3 are still in progress.
The RoSoverse is different from the LTYE Multiverse. You can read more about that here. But, TLDR version, the multiverse is a collection of AU's based off the OG story. AU's can be read in any order. However, if planning to read the RoSoverse, then you must stay away from the AU's until you've at least completed Book 1. If you don't, you risk spoiling a variety of important tenets in the OG series.
Looking Through Your Eyes
Standing By The Ocean
Dreamland*
*It is marked as an AU, but it's canon. This was initially intended as an AU, but I made the executive decision to make it Book 3 after realizing how well it worked into the original storyline.
Please know that this is an extremely heavy series that focuses on and highlights a variety of sensitive topics, including mental health struggles and domestic/sexual violence against women. You can read the entire CW/TW's in the LTYE masterlist. I strongly advise you to read all of them and make a determination as to what is best for your mental wellbeing before deciding to read.
Obviously, I do not own anything related to or belonging to WWE and all recognizable characters. I don't even own mafia tropes or any of the other general tropes within this trilogy. However, I do own the rights to my original characters as well as the specific plot and workings of this story, so please don't steal anything. I work too hard on my stories, have worked extremely hard on this particular collection, and I don't deserve to have my ideas stolen. So, just be a good person, and don't do that shit.
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒𑁤 with a house full of children, all of whom are still in single digits, finding one on one time can be a challenge for roman and solana. with the younger kids down for naps and the eldest keeping themselves occupied, mom and dad sneak away for some adult only time.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𑁤 smut. dirty talk. unprotected sex. established, married couple. age gap (10yrs). roman stressed tf out.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒𑁤 four thousand and some change (4k+)
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𑁤 roman reigns x black!oc
𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𑁤 graphic and dividers by me.
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𑁤 we talked about this idea forever ago, and i finally started it a few weeks ago. was definitely a wild ride to write.
Solana’s glazed eyes roll back and her stomach caves inward as she arches her back off the mattress. Her fingers dig into said mattress, fisting the sheets with an unforgiving grip that’s similair to the unforgiving waves of pleasure rolling throughout her entire body.
“Roman.”
His name falling from his wife’s parted lips force Roman to rip his enchanted gaze from the motion of her big, soft breasts jutting back and forth from the intensity of his thrust to the way she writhes in visible, obvious pleasure on the bed underneath him.
It makes his dick twitch, thick pink tongue dipping from his mouth and running over his bottom lip. Makes his next thrust hit harder and dig deeper. A goal achieved when the sweet, beautiful sound of her whimpers intensify. Pleasing a woman sexually has never really been an issue for Roman. Nothing he worried about because countless experience and ratings of 10/10 across the board all but prevented any sort of insecurity in that area.
In almost all areas of his life.
But Solana has always been the exception.
From the moment she sat on his lap in that restaurant what feels like a century ago, pressed her lips together, pretty eyes dipping as she powered through nerves to issue her request, she’s been his priority.
Her pleasure has been her priority. He’s only ever wanted to make her feel good.
Most especially in the bedroom.
With everything she’s been through, she deserves that and everything more.
So to see her eyes clench shut, to feel her slick walls gripping his dick, and to watch the way she writhes with an insatiable hunger, it’s nothing short of fuel. A drug he can’t get enough of and would gladly overdose on if it means he can spend the rest of his life being with her like this.
Being in her like this.
His eyes flick down to where their bodies connect, his breath catching as the glimpse of his dick coated white, her cream gushing and dripping from her tight ass pussy. “Shit, baby,” he groans. “You creaming all over me.” He’s rewarded with another moan that brings about a smug smirk. “C’mon, sweetheart. You know I like words.”
She groans through a closed mouth, the scowl on her face making his smirk deepen. It’s seeing the way she shifts her hands to her chest, the arch in her back depending as her hands graze over and gently squeeze her breast, however, that make his breath hitch.
Triggers an idea.
“But you know what I like more?” Roman smooths his hands up and down her hips as her eyes flutter open, reflecting a haze of lust. She’s visibly dazed, mouth partially ajar, and dark eyebrows caving inward.
“Ro—”
His name abruptly lost in the quick motion of him switching their positions. It’s suddenly Roman whose back is against their soft, dark sheets and the sight of his wife upward instead of downward. He glides his hand to the back of her ass, as her own plant on his chest. Not once does his dick slip out, instead still seated inside her warmth. Her eyes latch onto his. “Papi watching his pretty girl on top.”
Solana’s swollen lips—still puffy from the way they made out fiercely during foreplay that only lasted a couple of minutes before her palm was smeared with his cum as she stroked his dick to life—lift into a small smile.
She says something in Spanish as he glides his hands to the front of her, traveling up and over the folds of her stomach, her head nodding back when she starts to grind on top of him.
His pupils dilate and his jaw clenches at the feel of her nails pressing into his abs and then his own hands when she travels the length of his long arms and cages his palms against her heavy breasts. Roman finds it impossible to not buck his hips to fuck up into her, especially when the first assisted thrust makes her mouth drop open and her eyes flutter once more.
It’s also impossible to look away from her, for him to not soak in the sight that can cure and heal him on even the roughest of days.
Like those days, more often than not, that he still can’t comprehend just how the hell they ended up with seven children in under eight years. Two sets of twins, at that. With several of said kids being only a year and some change apart in age. For a man a few years shy of fifty, even with his wife being a decade younger than him, it blows his fucking mind.
But then she does that thing she does. Like she’s doing now. Where she either willingly slides herself on top of his dick or allows him to position her to where she should never leave. Moves and gyrates sensually and slowly, sometimes leaning back just enough so his eyes travel up the slope of her thick ass body and grant him the perfect view of her glistening, fat pussy lips swallowing and dripping over his big dick while she bounces up and down. Spelling her name and claiming what will always be hers.
And he gets it.
Understands fully how and why they ended up with seven kids.
Solana’s moans and whimpers amplify as her intensify subsides just enough to let him know she’s close. He can feel it in the way her pussy is clamping and fluttering around him. The bed rocks and trembles under the intensity of their sweet, sensual, steamy lovemaking. A silent witness to the most carnal of acts over the years.
“You gon’ come for me, pretty girl?” He’s rewarded with an enthusiastic nod of her head as he gently squeezes her big ass titties, weighing heavy in his palms despite her own braced on his thighs as she continues to ride him. “Gon’ let papi fill—”
“Mommy. Daddy. We’re bored. Can you play—”
The intensity of the scream of horror that erupts from Solana’s mouth is matched only by the way she quickly scrambles to move off of Roman who hisses a quiet, “shit” that’s easily drowned under the sound of the additional set of screams. Screams from the faces of their three oldest children who stand in the doorway with ajar mouths.
Lina, Leya, and Tama. Eyes as wide as saucers. Lina being the one to shove her siblings out of the way as they slam the door shut.
The minute it’s closed, however, the panic doesn’t end.
It only begins.
“Roman!” She shouts from the side of the bed, face flustered, sheet covering her body sweaty body. “I thought I told you to lock the door!”
“I did!” He shouts, running a hand through his hair, damp at the roots from his exertion. “That damn Lina must have picked the fucking lock.”
“Oh my God,” she breathes, one hand over her mouth. “That didn’t just happen." He can't tell if she's talking to him, herself, or them both. Though, in all honestly, it doesn't make much of a difference. They didn’t just walk in on us having sex.”
“Pretty sure they did,” he mutters, falling back on the bed, eyes shut. His head is suddenly pounding and the neglected pressure and weight of his still fully erect dick is a pain he can’t ignore but is forced to.
“I can’t believe this is happening.”
“It did.”
“We’ve traumatized them.”
“Sol, that’s a bit fucking dramatic.”
She gasps, one hand over her mouth. Her voice is muffled against her palm but audible, nonetheless. “They’re never going to be the same.”
“We already have them in therapy. They’ll be alright.” His shrug and perhaps dismissive comment earns him a glare that makes him roll his eyes. “Baby, come on. It’s not great, but it’s not the worse thing ever.” Surely. Surely, there are many other things he can list off the top of his head that could forever scar his children.
This isn’t one of them.
“But you know what does fucking suck?” She frowns, and he gestures to his lap, the outline of his big dick and wet spot where cum is smeared against the sheets stare back at them. “Being so close to feeling that pretty puss—”
“Roman.” She closes her eyes and runs her hand through her blown out hair. He can’t help the way his eyes drop to her chest, the outline of her chocolate nipples through the thin sheet making his mouth water and cock twitch. “Really?”
He shrugs once more, unsure where the issue lies, hence his blunt explanation. “We might as well finish—” Solana’s fist colliding with his bicep, however, silences him.
“Roman!”
“What?” He cuts his eyes, running his hand down his face. What’s done is done. What harm is there in them both finding their release before they tackle the fallout this….incident will have caused.
But it seems Solana isn’t seeing it that way.
Her pretty eyes narrow into slits that draw his gaze away from her big ass titties he’d much rather have in his mouth right now. “Our seven and six year old children just walked in on us having sex, and all you can think about is resuming?”
Perhaps he should consider his answer before providing it, but in this moment, he can’t think of any other response than what’s provided in the most casual of tones.
“Well, yes.”
It’s the wrong answer.
Solana punches and shoves at him once, twice, three times before she stands up from the bed, ranting in Spanish the entire time, the sound of the bathroom door slamming as he closes his eyes and curses lowly.
“Baby, was that a no?”
“ROMAN!”
Not a word is said. The only sound that fills the Reigns family living room is the volume of the TV turned low and Dulce in the corner playing with one of her squeaky toys, turned away from the unexpected emergency family meeting.
Lina, Leya, and Tama all sit on one sofa. The oldest with her hands squeezing the edge of the sofa. Tama kicking his legs up and down. Leya holding onto her latest Build-A-Bear that Roman gifted her when he took the girls out two weekends ago so that Solana could spend time with the boys.
Meanwhile, Solana sits next to her husband who is leaned back into the sofa with his arms crossed. A position that indicates a level of nonchalance that’s the polar opposite of his wife who is perched on the edge of the sofa, hands folded gracefully on her knees.
“Well.” She eventually clears her throat, kickstarting the conversation no parent ever wants to have. “I know….I know you guys must have questions.”
Of course they do. At seven and six, the oldest set of kids, coined the OG’s of their siblings, are never short of questions to issue to one or both parents. Leya being the exception. She’s not as vocal as her siblings, often preferring to ask hers in the form of little notes, diary entries, and whispers that follow the tug of a sleeve.
She’s like Solana. Quiet and reserved.
Lina and Tama couldn’t be any more opposite.
The eldest boy the first to ask, continuing to kick, his eyes ever so often drifting to the TV. “What were you doing?”
It’s only one of many questions to follow, however, as Lina purses her lips together. She reaches to push back a curl that’s just one of several to slip out of the bun she did herself this morning, wanting to try to do her hair on her own. A valiant effort with a subpar outcome. “And why were you guys naked?”
“Are all your clothes dirty, mami?”
“Did the clothes fairy take all your clothes?”
“Is it because we’re poor now?”
“Fucking hell,” Roman curses lowly. Solana subtly shifts her right thigh into his leg, the closest thing she can do without actually shoving him in front of their children who are hitting them with a number and variety of questions they weren’t fully prepared for. Obviously. “No, we’re not poor, son.”
“Babies.” Solana manages a small smile despite the way her stomach is in knots and has been in knots from the moment the door opened and revealed her in the midst of….riding. “Mommy and daddy…..we…..well, we were playing a game.”
Lina tilts her head to the side, and Tama frowns, as if not following. Leya is the only one who’s remained silent, allowing her siblings to be her voice as she gently caresses the lilac mane of her stuffed animal. “Is that why you were sitting on top of daddy?”
Solana feels like her body is on fire. Like she accidentally hit the heat on the thermostat this morning instead of the AC. She can only imagine how flustered and reddened her face must be.
This is a mess.
“Yes,” she manages. How? She hasn’t the slightest clue. Similar to how she’s not entirely sure how to explain said game to her children who haven’t even hit double digits yet.
“What’s the game called?”
Thankfully, a lifeline is thrown as Roman decided to enter the discussion, saving his wife from Lina’s follow-up. “It’s not for kids.”
Tama’s frown deepens at the answer, his confusion written all over his adorable face. At six, he still holds a level of baby fat. Chubby cheeks and thicker limbs with a head full of hair and the best hugs for his mama. “The game is called It’s Not For Kids?”
Roman leans forward and shakes his head. “No, I’m saying the game we were playing isn’t for kids.”
Lina tilts her head to the side. “How come?”
“We’ll tell you when you’re older.”
“How old?”
“Very old.”
“Like you?”
Roman opens his mouth, clearly to say some smart shit back to his smartass son only to quickly pivot. He looks over at his wife, his deep voice gruff and almost murmured, “don’t ask me to have no more goddamn kids.”
“Roman.”
Lina giggles. From a baby, she’s always been most entertained by Roman’s potty mouth. He’d be going off on someone over the phone as the girls sat with him in his office, in their matching bouncers, because they’ve always wanted to be by him, and she’d be smiling and babbling away. What he always feared causing them to fear him has always been the side of him that Lina especially has found most entertaining. “Daddy, you said a bad word.”
“It’s cause he’s old,” Tama supplies, leaning over and grabbing his feet as he explains to his sisters, “uncle Dwayne said old people can say bad words.”
Lina nods with agreement, as if the explanation unlocked the part of her brain that’d temporarily forgotten such important information. “That’s why mommy doesn’t say bad words. Cause she’s not old.”
Roman, however, has shifted from one question to another, finally landing on the one that’s the most pressing following their short exchange. He frowns. “How old do ya’ll think I am?”
Tama doesn’t miss a beat answering with a straight face and utmost confidence. “105.”
Solana’s quiet gasp beside him is only partially registered as his eyes widen. “A hundred—” Roman runs his hand over his face, stroking at his beard he’s almost certain is going to be entirely white before the end of this conversation. “Both of ya’ll asses are getting taken out my will.”
“Roman!”
“What’s a will?”
“Something only you will be in, Leya,” he answers with an abundance of ease. At this point, her spot is guaranteed. Aria, Nick, Koa, and Kai as well, too. But these other two hellion children of his?
Yeah, they can be taken care of by Solana’s side of the family.
“The point here,” Solana steps in, stressing the word ‘point’ and clearly wanting to get things back on track. She reaches over, hand on his knee, smile directed towards the sources of the headache Roman can feel brewing. It started when he was so fucking close to coming all in his wife until they decided to be fucking cock blockers. “—is that mommy and daddy were doing what mommies and daddies do, and it’s not for kids, but we’re sorry that you saw us.”
Leya hugs her stuffed animal closer, deciding to break the silence she’s always comfortable sat in, even from the moment she said her first word. Roman and Solana have always said Leya rests in the quiet because she knows her twin will always fill it for her. For both of them. And God has that been the truth.
“Is that the game that makes babies?”
Still reeling from his disrespectful ass children’s ridiculous ass belief regarding his age, Roman is only somewhat paying attention to Leya's question that has Solana looking, once again, like a deer in headlights.
“Umm,” she starts, engaging in the quickest creation, navigation, and finalization of a mental pros and cons list that one can mentally conjure in such a do or die moment. “Y—yes. It—it is.”
Tama’s face settles into a scowl that is reminiscent, once more, of his father who sits across from him wearing the same expression. A mirror. “You and daddy play the game a lot.”
“Is that why you have so many babies, mami?”
“She’s not having any more. I can tell you that much.”
“Roman, please,” Solana hisses, casting him a quick side glare and widening of her eyes that nonverbally implores some sort of request for cooperation vs sabotage.
“But you were just playing it.”
“It doesn’t always make a baby, Lina.” Solana explains, reviving her smile and resisting the urge to elbow her unhelpful husband. “Just….sometimes.”
“Well, how do you—”
“Look,” Roman cuts in. The shift in his voice, deeper and with a hint of irritation, draws the focus of his kids and his wife. “The deal is this. When your mom and I are in the room with the door closed and especially with it locked, you guys aren’t to come in. We told you before we went upstairs we were going to be busy and to knock if you needed something.” Tama opens his mouth, hence Roman lifting his hand to silence what he already has a rebuttal for. “You guys wanted something. You didn’t need anything, and I don’t know how the hell you can get bored when we got this big ass house and there’s three of you.”
“Your dad is right, babies.” Solana sighs. She runs her thumb over Roman’s knee, adopting a perhaps gentler approach to what is an undisputed truth. “Your bothers and sisters are down for naps. I fixed you lunch not even an hour ago and made snacks. You didn’t really need us.”
“But beyond that—” Roman gestures between the terror non-twins with his index finger. “Ya’ll gotta stop with this picking the locks shit. I get that you were young when you first stated doing it and didn’t really know better, but you guys are older and should know better by now.” He focuses his gaze especially on the eldest of his unruly children. “And I know it was you who taught your brother and sister.”
More Tama than Leya being the student, because Roman has no doubt the most well behaved of his offspring has never utilized any of the criminal like behavior taught by her sister. She’s always just been an innocent bystander. An unwilling accomplice.
Confronted with a truth she can’t deny, Lina instead pouts and crosses her arms. “But I already showed Aria and Nic!“
“You what?” And just like that, Roman’s blood pressure shoots up once more. Or maybe it’s just been up since the kids walked in on them and is just reaching levels previously unknown. “They’re only 2 and 3. How the hell did you—”
“Well, don’t teach or show them any more, okay?” Solana forces a smile and lifts her hand to caress the back of Roman’s neck, fingers brushing against the soft curls and making gentle circular motions near his scalp. A small, subtle but helpful act that always helps to calm him down, which is evidently needed given these damn kids are two more questions or statements away from giving him a stroke.
Tama is the first to fold, giving a dramatic sigh while looking at Sol. “Okay, mami.”
“I won’t do it anymore,” Lina also concedes, shoulders dropping as Leya reaches over to take her hand, offering a small smile.
It’s a sweet gesture, but Roman is still confused. “Now why the hell couldn’t ya’ll just listen when I sa—”
A semi loud buzzing sound redirects focus and causes Solana’s hand to drop from its soothing position to lean over and grab her phone. Roman peers down as she taps her fingers quickly and pulls up a familiar screen. The app that connects to the baby monitors in all of the younger kids rooms. The inside of Nicolás room with his small body sitting up in the middle of his bed, still swaddled in his Cars themed bedding. Rubbing his eyes, his dark hair ruffled and a small frown on his face, Solana hits the volume just in time for a soft “mommy” to fill the living room.
“Nicky’s up,” she says more to the kids than her husband. Locking the phone and reaching it to Roman, she stands up, his eyes briefly shifting to the back of her ass that’s curved and sitting perfectly in her skin tight shorts. “Mommy’s gotta go check on Nicky, but you guys can ask daddy any more questions you have.”
It’s that last sentence, however, that stops Roman from licking his lips and reaching to palm his wife’s nice, round ass and instead look up at her with a shade of bewilderment. “Wait, what?”
Solana turns and leans over, pressing a kiss to his cheek, whispering quickly, “you got this, papi.”
His jaw tightens. “Sol—“
Another peck to the corner of his mouth before she’s walking out to tend to their middle son.
That leaves just him with the eldest three.
The OG’s.
Except the time for them bombarding him with question after question, most of which he knows he can’t answer even remotely as well as his wife, is over as he has his own question.
“How old do you think your mom is?”
Roman is far from a stupid man. His wife being ten years his junior comes at little surprise to no one. Solana, in his opinion, has always looked a bit on the younger side. A youthful face that hasn’t changed much since the first time he laid eyes on her. Thus, he expects the guess to be on the lower end of the number spectrum.
He just couldn’t have anticipated how low.
“25.”
His jaw drops just a few inches, gaze locked between Terror Child 1 and Terror Child 2. “25?” He could see it. Sure. Again, not even forty, she’s far from old, and unlike himself, hasn’t a gray hair in sight. But it’s the large gap in age guesses that has him puzzled.
Lina nods with a big smile. “Uncle Dwayne said you bought mommy from the mommy store because she was a sweet young thing.”
“Yeah!” Tama adds enthusiastically, sharing his own horror story that has Roman’s fingers burning and itching to call and cuss out his fucking stupid ass cousin. “And cousin Zilla said you love mommy a lot cause she’s got a gyat.” Tama frowns looking between his sisters and then Roman before ultimately shrugging with defeat. “But we don’t know what any of that means.”
“They said they'll tell us when we’re older.” Leya offers the final statement with a small, innocent smile and gentle squeeze of her sister’s hand before she hugs her stuffed animal once more.
Meanwhile, Roman is back to square one. On the verge of a stroke.
There’s so much to process. So much to digest. First things first, he’s cussing out both Dwayne and Zilla. Probably firing the latter cause what the fuck?
“So let me get this straight.” Brows caved, tossing her phone on the sofa to the side of him, Roman is all hand gestures and deep scowl as he tries to make sense of the nonsense. “You think your mom is 25, but I’m 105—”
“106,” Lina interjects. “You just had another birthday when mommy was talking.”
Tama nods, face just as serious as his voice while he clarifies as if it’s the most obvious thing, “old people grow up really faster.”
Roman closes his eyes.
These. Fucking. Kids.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, leaning back into the sofa, head back as he tries to count backwards from 10. Or 100. “Go to your rooms.”
The chorus of their giddy laughter is the backdrop to his misery. How the fuck did he end up with two such fucking nightmares of children? It’s like they spend time figuring out ways to drive him fucking mad.
He keeps trying to tell Solana those two are gonna send him to an early grave, but she doesn’t believe him.
Bet she’ll believe it when he’s on his deathbed, and she’s holding his hand while the fucking Joker and Harley Quinn are standing at the edge of said deathbed asking when the bank closes.
Thoughts of revisiting the previously abandoned discussion of boarding school are interrupted when Roman feels movement. He snaps his head forward only to be met with Leya reaching for his arm as she climbs onto the sofa. Her stuffed animal set in the same spot where Solana previously sat. It’s the twinkle in her eyes, however, and the way she almost nervously lifts her hand to his face, that give him pause. Her small palm pressing gently against his cheek. The smile that grows as his beard no doubt tickles her before she leans over and wraps her arms around his neck. Just like that, all the tension and frustration melt away.
What’s left is the peace and calm. His hand on the small of her back as he returns her gesture when she pulls back just enough to look at him. Roman pushes her curls out of her face, seeing so much of Solana in her. Beyond just appearance. Leya inherited every bit of her mother, including Solana’s uncanny ability to soothe him on his darkest days.
But something tugs in his chest as he stares at her. He sees those same eyes that stared back at him with innocent wonder the first time he held her. This tiny human being who he was secretly terrified of dropping or holding too tight. Not keeping his hand in the right spot to support her neck. So many concerns and worries that’ve calmed slightly but will always remain to some degree.
And it baffles him. How quickly time has passed.
Seven. Lina and Leya are now seven.
It feels like only yesterday he and Solana were bringing the girls home for the first time, and now he can recall the way they crowded their parents when Koa and Kai were carried through the front door for the first time.
It’s fucking surreal.
He opens his mouth to return her sentiment, the I love you, daddy she murmured in Samoan as he reflected on time that seems to be moving much too quick for his likening.
And then the fucking deviants.
“Happy birthday, daddy!” Lina shouts happily, running into the living room and jumping on the sofa, as Leya giggles and leans into him. “You just turned 107!”
Tamasa, of course, is not far behind, instead standing before him with his head titled, tossing up and down the football that’s not that much bigger than his head with practiced ease. “Do you need a cane now?”
pairing — mob boss!solo sikoa x fem!reader
word count — 5.7k
summary — you can’t ignore kat’s words any longer, and decide to do something about it. but will solo play along with let you take control?
warnings — mafia au, daddy kink, possessive behavior, bra taming, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, bruises
previous — part nine
next — part eleven (coming soon)
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It had been a couple of days since Kat, Jimmy, and Jey had packed up and flew back to San Francisco, and the house had finally started to feel like just the two of you again. Quieter. Slower. No loud voices carrying from the kitchen, no tension, no laughter bouncing off the walls.
You were curled into his side the way you always were at the end of the night. Your head on his chest, one leg slung over his, your nails tracing over the patterns on his forearm.
He had one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting heavy and warm across your lower back. His thumb was moving in slow, absent strokes just under the hem of the oversized shirt you’d stolen from his drawer. It smelled like him. Clean soap and that expensive cologne he wore. You breathed it in and tried to let it settle you.
It wasn’t working the way it usually did.
This was your place. Safe. Spoiled. The kind of soft that came with knowing Solo handled everything so you didn’t have to think. But Kat’s voice kept threading through everything anyway.
The way she’d laughed when you got flustered, low and knowing, like she could see right through you. How she’d said you were missing out. As if staying this soft and obedient with Solo meant you somehow… less. Smaller. Like maybe all the things you loved about this life made you weak instead of lucky.
You’d never felt that way before. Not once. You liked being spoiled. You were spoiled. In that bougie, effortless way that made your chest feel full and warm. He made sure you had everything you needed. New clothes when he caught you eyeing something online. Quiet weekends where he cleared his schedule just so you could sleep in without a single decision pressing on you. It was the kind of care that felt like luxury wrapped in discipline.
If you wanted something, you got it. It was on his time, sure, but you got it. You never had to plan or choose or worry. He always handled it. And you loved that.
You loved feeling small and taken care of and his. Loved the way he could be rough and stern when you stepped out of line– his hand firm on your neck and that low voice that made your stomach drop in the best way– and still pull you into his lap afterward like you were the most precious thing he had.
You liked both parts. But the thoughts wouldn’t leave you alone.
What was she talking about when she said you were missing out? Missing out on what? The power? The control? The idea of having someone else completely at your mercy? Of seeing what it felt like to be the one giving orders instead of following them?
You’d never wanted that before. Solo had never made you feel like you needed it. He gave you everything and still kept you in line when you stepped out of it. He never pushed you to be something you weren’t. Never made you feel like staying sweet and obedient was wrong.
Yet Kat’s words had made you restless anyway.
You shifted closer against him. Your cheek pressing into the solid warmth of his chest, breathing in more of him. That restlessness sitting low in your stomach started to twist with something warmer. Something that made your fingers trace a little higher on his arm.
What if she was right? What if staying this content with letting Solo call the shots meant you were missing something bigger? Something that would make you feel more?
The thought made your chest feel tight and your skin feel too warm all at once. You let out a quiet breath and pressed a soft kiss to his chest, right over his heart. Like maybe if you tried, you could anchor yourself back to the version of you that had always been happy right here. The version that didn’t seem to question every decision you made.
You shifted against him, not pulling away but not settling either. Your fingers traced higher on his chest, then lower, slipping just under the waistband of his shorts. The fabric was soft and warm from his skin. You let your fingertips brush along the edge of it, barely there, testing how far you could go before he noticed.
Solo’s thumb paused on your back.
You did it again anyway. Fingers sliding a little deeper this time, nails dragging lightly over the skin just above his hip. The touch was light, almost absent. But there was nothing absent about the way you pressed your palm flat against him a second later, feeling the way he was already starting to harden under your hand. You didn’t grab. You just let the weight of your hand rest there, warm and steady, while your thumb traced a single slow circle.
He shifted beneath you, a low sound rumbling in his chest, but he didn’t stop you right away. His hand stayed on your back, thumb resuming its slow strokes, like he was giving you room to keep going.
When you glanced up at him, that familiar flicker of amusement crossed his face. It was small, but it was there. You could see it in the slight lift of one corner of his mouth and the way his eyes narrowed just a little.
“Keep it up and see what happens,” he murmured, voice rough around the edges. He wasn’t mad. Not yet. Just watching.
You bit your lip, the faint sting grounding you as your stomach twisted with something warm and sharp. You pushed again anyway, letting your hand drift lower, palm pressing more deliberately against the growing hardness beneath the fabric. Your fingers curled just enough to feel the shape of him through the material, daring him to react.
Solo’s hand on your waist tightened. Not hard enough to hurt. Just enough to still you, his fingers pressing into your skin through the shirt like a warning.
“Angel.”
You looked up at him through your lashes, voice soft and almost innocent as you answered. “I’m not even doing anything.”
The words hung there between you. Solo let out a short breath through his nose and in one smooth motion he rolled you onto your back. His body followed, caging you in without crushing you, one knee sliding between your thighs to keep you exactly where he wanted you. His hand caught both of your wrists and pinned them above your head against the pillows. His other hand braced beside your head as he looked down at you, dark eyes unreadable.
“Yeah?” he said, voice low and calm. “That right?”
You stayed quiet, your breath coming a little faster now. He didn’t let go of your wrists. Instead, he shifted his weight, pressing you more firmly into the mattress as he leaned down, his mouth hovering just above yours.
“You gonna sit here and tell me you’re not doin’ anything while you got your hand all over my dick like that? That what you’re sayin’?”
You swallowed, your fingers flexing uselessly against his grip. He wasn’t hurting you. He was just holding you there, making it impossible to look away or squirm out of it.
Solo’s thumb brushed once across the inside of your wrist slowly before his grip tightened again. Just enough to remind you who was holding who.
“Try that shit again,” he said, voice dropping even lower, “and I’m gonna make sure you remember exactly who’s in charge around here. You hear me?”
You nodded, small and quick, but the defiance was still there in the way you met his eyes. He caught it immediately and his mouth spread into a slow, dangerous smile.
“Nah,” he murmured, leaning in until his lips brushed your ear. “Use your words, baby. Say it.”
Your voice came out softer than you meant it to. “Yes, Daddy.”
Solo pulled back just enough to look at you again, his expression shifting into something sharper, more satisfied.
“Good,” he said. “‘Cause next time you wanna play like that, you’re gonna do it knowin’ exactly what’s gonna happen after. And trust me…” His hips rolled forward once, letting you feel exactly how hard he was now. “You’re not gonna like how it starts.”
He slid the hand not holding your wrists down between your bodies, his palm pressing firmly against the inside of your thigh and pushing it wider.
“Now,” he said, eyes never leaving yours. “You gonna behave? Or do I need to remind you again?”
Your breathing was getting shorter. The frustration was building fast. Hot and sharp in your chest, making your thighs tense. You tried to roll your hips up against him, and when he still didn’t move, something in you snapped.
You yanked at your wrists. It wasn’t hard enough to actually break free, but it was enough to show him you were done playing along.
“Let go,” you whined. “I’m not even doing anything wrong.”
Solo’s eyes narrowed and he just stared at you like he couldn’t believe what just came out of your mouth. Then he let out a short, low laugh that didn’t sound amused at all.
“Nothing wrong?” he repeated. “So this is all good? This is okay?”
You glared up at him, cheeks burning. That restless irritation from the last few days was bubbling up and spilling over before you could stop it.
“Yeah,” you snapped. “I’m just– I don’t know why you’re being like this. I just wanted something and you’re not even listening. You’re just–”
You didn’t finish.
Because the second the words left your mouth, Solo’s expression changed completely.
His head cocked to the side so fast you felt the air shift. His jaw was tight, eyes narrowed even more. All that calm from earlier was gone. There was something in his face now that made your stomach drop.
He leaned in closer, breath ghosting across your cheek.
“And who told you that you can just do what you want?”
You blinked, caught off guard. The words left your mouth before you could even think twice.
“I–I mean, Kat said–”
You stopped. It was too late.
Solo went completely still.
For a long second he just stared down at you, and you could see it click behind his eyes. Saw his jaw clench. His grip on your wrists tightened.
“Kat,” he repeated, flat. “Of course it was her.”
He let out a short, humorless breath and shook his head once, like he should’ve known. You felt your stomach twist harder. The irritation was still there, but now it was mixing with something else. Embarrassment, maybe. Regret. You tried to backpedal, voice coming out smaller.
“I’m not… I’m not trying to be bad,” you muttered, eyes flicking away from his. “I just– I don’t understand why you’re not listening. She was saying stuff and it made sense and I–”
“Angel.”
His voice cut clean through yours.
You shut up.
Solo stared down at you for another long moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was quieter but not any less stern.
“You really sat here and decided you ain’t gotta listen to me no more?” he asked. “That you can just act like all these rules don’t apply just ‘cause someone else said so?”
You swallowed hard. Your face was on fire. You tried to look away again, but he wasn’t having it.
“Look at me.”
You did.
His dark eyes were full of aggravation. Your chest tightened knowing you were the reason for it.
“You don’t get to do that,” he said. “Not in this house. Not with me. I don’t care what Kat said to you. You don’t get to decide that you can just do whatever you want all ‘cause you feelin’ some type of way. That’s not how this works and you know it.”
His hand left your thigh and came up to catch your chin, tilting your face so you couldn’t look anywhere but at him.
“What exactly did she say that made you think it was okay to start actin’ like that? I ain’t letting you up until I understand what the fuck is going on in your head.” He paused, brows furrowing slightly. “And you better speak up where I can hear you too. ‘Cause if you mumble or pull any of that shit again we’re gonna have a much bigger problem than we already do. You understand me?”
You nodded quickly, throat tight. “Yes, sir.”
True to his word, Solo stayed right where he was. His body was heavy over yours. One hand still locked around both of your wrists above your head, the other beside your face. His eyes stayed on you, waiting.
When you didn’t say anything right away, his head tilted slightly.
“I’m waitin’,” he said, voice low and calm. “I know you got somethin’ to say, so say it. All of it.”
You swallowed again. Your face was still burning, and the frustration from earlier was still sitting hot in your chest, but now it was tangled up with sheer embarrassment.
“I don’t–” Your voice came out small. You cleared your throat and tried again. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
Solo’s jaw flexed.
“Better try again.”
You hesitated. “Kat was just talking about how she gets to do what she wants with your brothers. And she punishes them when they don’t listen to her. And she’ll make them crawl on the ground. And she said some stuff about– about how I could try things too. And I was missing out cause I don’t boss you around sometimes.”
You said it as fast as humanly possible. Like maybe if you got it out quick enough he wouldn’t make you go into more detail.
But he heard you. He heard you loud and clear. He was quiet for a brief second and then a laugh escaped him. A real one. Like he genuinely couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Angel… baby. You really thought you could do that to your Daddy? Put a leash on me? Tell me what to do?
You couldn’t answer.
“Is that what you really want?”
The question hit you different than you expected.
He wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t even raising his voice. But the way he asked it– calm and direct, like he was truly giving you space to answer– made something cold settle in your chest.
You opened your mouth, then closed it. Because for the first time since Kat started talking, you actually thought about it.
Really thought about it.
Being the one who made the decisions. Being the one who had to handle everything. Being the one in charge all the time. No more letting Solo take care of the little things. No more feeling small and safe and spoiled. No more having someone else carry the weight so you didn’t have to.
The idea of it made your stomach turn.
You shook your head fast, voice coming out shaky but sure.
“No,” you said. “N-no, it’s not. I don’t– I don’t want that.”
Solo studied your face for a long moment. His grip on your wrists stayed firm, but his thumb brushed across the inside of them. Slow, almost soothing.
“You sure?” he asked quietly. “If that’s what you want, we can talk about it. But I need you to be honest with me right now.”
You shook your head again, harder this time.
“I’m sure,” you whispered. “I don’t want that. I don’t want to be in charge. I don’t wanna boss you around. I like how things are. I like when you tell me what to do. I don’t want it to change.”
Solo was quiet for another second. Then he exhaled slowly and nodded once.
“Good,” he muttered, voice low. “‘Cause that’s not how this works. And it never will be.” He leaned down, his mouth brushing against your ear. “Things don’t change just ‘cause someone else is in your ear. So don’t act like it. Not now. Not ever. Am I clear?”
Your voice came out as small as ever. “Yes, Daddy.”
Solo pulled back just enough to look at you again. His free hand came up, thumb brushing your lower lip. He held your gaze for another long moment, then finally gave a small nod.
“Good girl.”
His grip on your wrists loosened, easing up slightly. “So, you still got somethin’ you want from me? Or are we done with the attitude for tonight?”
You didn’t even have to think about it.
All the fight had been drained right out of you. All that restless, pushy energy from earlier was gone, replaced by something softer and heavier. You felt small in the best way. Pliant, open, a little raw. The only thing you wanted right now was him.
You shook your head, voice a little hoarse.
“I’m done,” you whispered. “I don’t want nothing else. I just– I just want you.”
His eyes were still locked on yours, searching. Whatever he saw there seemed to settle something in him, because the stern line between his brows finally eased. He let go of your wrists completely and brought that hand down to cup the side of your face, thumb brushing gently across your cheek.
“Yeah?” he murmured. “That all you need right now, Angel?”
You nodded, already reaching for him. Your arms slid around his neck as you pulled him down, tucking your face into the warm space between his shoulder and throat. He came easily, shifting so his full weight wasn’t crushing you.
You felt him press a slow kiss to the top of your head, then another against your temple. His lips lingered there for a second before he spoke again.
“You don’t need to get so worked up,” he said quietly. “Can’t keep getting in your head about this shit.”
You made a small sound against his neck, not quite agreeing or disagreeing. Your fingers curled into the back of his shirt like you were afraid he might pull away. He didn’t. If anything, he held you tighter.
Solo shifted again, rolling into his side and bringing you with him so you were tucking against his chest. One of his legs slid between yours, and his hand found the back of your neck, fingers threading gently through your hair. He pressed another kiss to your forehead. Then your cheek. The corner of your mouth. They were slow, unhurried kisses that felt more like reassurance than anything else.
“Ain’t even gotta worry about any of that,” he murmured between kisses. “You hear me? What my brothers do with her ain’t got shit to do with what we do. You’re exactly where you supposed to be. My good girl. My sweet girl. That’s all I need from you.”
You nodded against his chest, some of the leftover tension finally bleeding out of your shoulders. Your hand slipped under his shirt, palm resting flat against the warm skin. You didn’t want anything else right now. Just this. The steady beat of his heart under your ear, his fingers moving slowly through your hair, and the quiet safety of being wrapped up in him.
Solo must’ve felt the way you melted into him, because he let out a low hum and pulled you even closer. His lips brushed your forehead again.
“That’s it,” he said softly. “Just relax, Angel. I gotchu.”
You closed your eyes and let yourself sink into the feeling. The restlessness from earlier was still there somewhere in the back of your mind, but it felt smaller now. Quieter. Easy to ignore when you were pressed up against him like this with his arms around you and his voice in your ear.
You tried to tuck yourself closer, the movement bringing your hips flush against him, and you felt the way he was still half hard against your thigh. It sent a small spark of warmth straight through you.
You shifted again. Not on purpose at first, just trying to get even closer. But the slow drag of your body against his made that spark catch. Your hand slid around his back under his shirt, fingers tracing the warm skin there as you pressed a kiss to his chest.
Solo’s breathing changed, just slightly.
He didn’t say anything right away. He just let you keep doing it. The soft kisses to his chest, the tiny barely-there rolls against him. His hand in your hair tightened. Not pulling, just holding.
After a minute, he brought two fingers under your chin and tilted your face up, kissing you properly. Slow. Deep. The kind of kiss that made your toes curl and your body go even softer against his.
You kissed him back without hesitation, your hand sliding higher up his back as you pressed closer. The friction between you was lazy, but it was starting to build. Every slow roll of your hips dragged against his growing hardness, and you could feel the way his breathing was getting heavier.
Solo’s hand slid down from your hair to the small of your back, then lower, gripping your ass and pulling you more firmly against him. He rolled his hips once, and you felt the thick line of his cock press right where you were already starting to ache.
A soft sound slipped out of you.
He pulled back from the kiss just enough to rest his forehead against yours. His eyes were half lidded as he looked at you.
“You want more?” he asked. His hand on your ass squeezed once, then stayed there, holding you against him.
You nodded, already chasing another slow grind of your hips against him.
Solo let out a quiet breath and in one smooth motion, rolled onto his back while pulling you with him. You ended up straddling his hips, hands braced on his chest as you blinked down at him, a little dazed from the sudden shift in position. Before you could even settle, one of his hands came up and wrapped around the front of your throat.
His grip wasn’t hard or bruising, but it was firm. His fingers curled against the sides of your neck with steady pressure. His thumb resting right over your pulse point, feeling the way your heart was racing. He looked up at you with dark eyes, and the weight of his stare alone made your stomach flip.
His other hand stayed on your hip, pressing deep into your skin as he guided you down into a slow grind against him. You were still in your panties, but the thick line of his clothed cock was right there, hot and heavy, pressing right against your clit with every roll.
The friction was maddening. Perfect enough to make your breath catch, but not nearly enough to satisfy the ache building low in your belly.
You let out a soft, needy sound and instinctively tried to move faster, but his hand on your hip tightened and held you exactly where he wanted you. Every time you tried to speed up, he pulled you back down at his pace, forcing you to feel every inch of him dragging against you through the thin layers of fabric.
His thumb stroked slowly along the side of your throat as he watched your face. The pressure wasn’t cutting off your air, but it was enough to make your head feel a little light. Enough to make every slow grind feel sharper, more intense. You could feel how wet you already were, the damp fabric of your panties clinging to you as you rocked against him.
Solo’s eyes never left yours. He looked completely calm, completely in control, even as his cock twitched beneath you every time you moved. You tried again to move faster, and a small, frustrated whine slipped out when he didn’t let you. He just guided you back into that same slow, tortuous grind.
“Easy,” he murmured, thumb brushing over your pulse again. “I gotchu.”
The slow drag of him against your clit was starting to drive you crazy. Every roll of your hips sent sparks shooting through you, but it was never enough. You could feel how hard he was getting. Felt how the head of his cock kept catching right where you needed it most, just for him to pull you back into that painfully slow pace.
Your fingers curled into his shirt as you looked down at him, breathing uneven. He could feel how worked up you were. Without another word, he slid his other hand down between you and hooked his fingers into the side of your panties, tugging them aside. Then he reached down and shoved his shorts down just far enough to free himself, his cock thick and heavy as it slapped against his stomach.
He didn’t ask again.
Solo’s hand returned to your hip, gripping tight as he guided you forward. The thick head dragged slowly through your folds, before he lined himself up and pulled you down onto him in one steady thrust.
You gasped the second he started to stretch you open. But when your eyes dropped and caught sight of him– thick, veined, glistening at the tip– your mouth actually watered. A thin string of spit slipped from the corner of your lips before you could stop it. Your eyes went glassy as he sank deeper inside you.
Solo’s hand on your throat flexed slightly as he watched your reaction. A low groan rumbling in his chest when he felt how wet you already were for him.
“There you go,” he muttered, voice rough as he bottomed out. “Take it.”
His hand on your hip stayed tight, and every time you sank down onto him, he pulled you down harder. He was controlling the pace entirely while his other hand stayed wrapped around your throat. You were already drooling, lips parted and shiny as you rode him, eyes half lidded and dazed. Solo’s thumb stroked along your neck as he watched you, eyes dark with satisfaction.
When you tried to bounce faster or take more, his fingers just tightened and pulled you back down slow. His cock kept dragging against that sensitive spot inside you with every thrust, and the pressure on your throat was making you feel extra light and floaty. A drop of spit slipped from your lips and landed on his chest.
You didn’t even notice. All you could focus on was how full you felt every time he pulled you down onto him.
“Look at you,” he rasped, rolling his hips up to meet yours. “Already fuckin’ droolin’ on my cock and we barely even started.”
The combination of him stretching you open and your limited airflow had you trembling on top of him. Your thighs shaking as you tried to keep up with the pace he set.
You were making soft, broken little sounds with every thrust now. Half moans, half whimpers. More drool was slipping from your lips, messy and uncontrolled. Solo’s eyes flicked down to watch it drip down your neck before dragging back up to your face.
“Makin’ a damn mess all over me,” he growled, almost like he was proud of it. His hand on your hip slid around to grab a handful of your ass, squeezing hard as he pulled you down onto him even rougher. “You that gone already, baby? That cock got you this stupid?”
You tried to answer, but all that came out was a broken moan as he thrust up hard and held you down on him, grinding deep. Solo’s eyes stayed locked on yours as he started fucking up into you from below. He wasn’t letting you ride him anymore. He was using you.
“That’s my good girl,” he muttered. “So fuckin’ pretty when you stop fightin’ it.”
He kept you pinned like that. One hand around your throat, the other gripping your ass he he fucked up into you with deep, punishing strokes. Every thrust punched a soft, whine out of you, and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Messier. Your juices dripping down onto him with every roll of his hips.
You could barely think. Every bounce knocked the air right out of your lungs, and all you could manage to get out were desperate little moans.
“Daddy… Daddy, please–”
He didn’t slow down. If anything, he got rougher. Using his grip to drag you down onto his cock again and again. You could feel how close he was. How his rhythm started to stutter and his fingers dug harder into your skin.
“Fuck,” he groaned, eyes locked on your face. “Gonna cum. Gonna fill this pussy up.”
You barely registered the words. Your head was too fuzzy. Body too overwhelmed. All you could do was keep moving on him, whimpering those same pathetic sounds.
“D-Daddy.”
Solo’s hand on your throat squeezed one last time as he yanked you down hard and buried himself as deep as he could go. A deep groan tore out of his chest as he came, pulsing hot ropes inside you.
He didn’t pull out. He never did.
He held you down on him, grinding up into you as he emptied himself deep, making sure every drop stayed right where he wanted it. You were trembling on top of him, barely able to hold yourself up. Your forehead dropped forward against his as more soft, incoherent whimpers kept slipping past your lips.
Solo’s hand finally eased off your throat. He slid it around to the back of your neck instead, pulling you down until your chest was pressed to his. His other arm wrapped tight around your waist, keeping you on his cock so he could stay buried deep inside you.
He was still breathing hard, but his touch had softened. One hand stroked slowly up and down your back while the other stayed at the nape of your neck, grounding you.
“Shhh,” he murmured against your hair. “Just breathe, Angel.”
You were still whimpering softly, little broken sounds of “Daddy” slipping out every few seconds as you trembled against him. He still didn’t pull out. He just held you there, one hand rubbing those slow circles on your lower back while the other gently stroked your hair.
“Such a sweet girl,” he said quietly, lips brushing your temple. “Did so good f’me.”
You made another soft, needy sound nuzzled closer into his chest, too fucked out to do much else. Solo just hummed and wrapped both arms tighter around you, holding you against him while he stayed buried deep. You could feel the slow, warm trickle of his cum starting to leak out around where he was still inside you, little drops slipping down your inner thighs.
Eventually, he carefully pulled out of you. You made a small whine at the loss, but he didn’t let you go far. He kept you right there on top of him. One of his arms wrapped around your back while the other came up to gently brush your forehead, wiping away a thin sheen of sweat with his thumb.
You stayed limp against him. Your body felt heavy and warm, like you could melt right into his chest and stay there forever. Solo’s hand drifted lower, fingers tracing lightly along your neck. You felt him pause when he found the faint marks already blooming there. The outline of his fingers from he’d held you earlier. His touch turned even gentler as he brushed over them.
“Does it hurt?” he asked quietly, voice a little rough from how hard he’d been breathing.
You nodded against his chest, voice small. “Yeah… a little.”
He was quiet for a second. Then he tilted his head and pressed a slow, careful kiss to one of the marks on your neck. Then another. And another. Each one soft and lingering, trying to soothe the skin he’d gripped so tightly.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured against your throat. “I didn’t mean to be rough with you like that, baby. I never mean to be rough. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
You shook your head a little, nuzzling closer into him. “It’s okay,” you whispered. “I liked it.”
Solo let out a quiet, breathy laugh against your skin, the sound rumbling through his chest. You felt it more than you heard it.
“Yeah?” he asked, voice almost teasing. “You did?”
You nodded again, still a little shy even after everything. “Yeah.”
He didn’t say anything else right away. He just held you there. The room was quiet except for the sound of both you breathing and the hum of the TV still playing somewhere in the background. You could feel the steady thumb of his heartbeat under you, strong and grounding.
After a minute, he shifted just enough to look down at you. His free hand came up to gently tilt your chin so you’d meet his eyes. There was something unreadable flickering behind his gaze.
Then, out of nowhere, he spoke.
“I don’t understand why you and Jey don’t get along.”
You blinked, caught completely off guard. Your brain was still fuzzy from everything that had just happened, and the sudden shift in conversation made you pause.
“...What?” you asked, a little confused.
Solo’s mouth twitched, fighting a smile even though his eyes stayed serious.
“I mean,” he continued, thumb brushing once across your jaw, “you both like getting manhandled, apparently. And I bet he likes getting choked out too. You’d think you’d have something in common.”
Your face burned all over again, and you buried it back into his chest with a high pitched, embarrassed whine. Solo let out another quiet laugh, low and warm, and wrapped his arms around you a little tighter.
“Just saying,” he murmured, still clearly amused. “You two might be more alike than you think.”
You didn’t lift your head. Just stayed tucked against his chest, face hot, while his hand kept stroking slow, soothing lines down your back. The restlessness from earlier felt far away now. Quieted under the steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his body wrapped around yours.
Solo pressed one last kiss to the top of your head and held you close.
“Get some sleep, Angel,” he said softly. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Roman Reigns headcannons ♥︎
A/N: couldnt stop thinking about him so ughh here this is 😫 also this is NOT proofread so mb for any mistakes lol
• he loves the absolute quietness of a Sunday morning with you. no arenas, no tribal chief vibes, no scripts. Just roman. He will wake up early just to make breakfast, moving around the kitchen with an impossibly soft, heavy footed quietness so he doesn’t disturb you. You’ll wake up to the smell of fresh coffee and find him sitting on the patio, patiently waiting for you with a second cup already poured.
• he loves sharing traditional Samoan food with you, when hes not dieting, that is (samoan food is very heavy). He has given you multiple foods, sapasui, oka, palusami and his all time favorite, pani keke. Its one of his love languages, surprisingly.
• he does all the heavy lifting around the house without you ever having to ask. grocery bags, moving furniture, opening stuck jars—he just takes initiative amd steps in and handles it. You turn around to grab your suitcases and travel bags just to find Roman carrying it effortlessly, not breaking a simple sweat. 'As long as your my woman you dont do anything'
• when he kisses you, its never rushed. Everything in his life is rushed, so with you? He takes his sweet precious time. Its almost as if he treats time with you as a blessing and luxury. His smooches are slow. Deep. Passionate. He holds the back of your head with one hand and the other always rests on your hip.
• he does this thing when he is exhausted. he wont say a single word, all he will do is sneak up behind you and hug you from behind, face buried in the crook of your neck. He always inhales your scent— something sweet and specifically you— and wraps those arms around your waist. It grounds him, the only source of comfort he gets is you.
🔞—NSFW—🔞
• he has a thing for sneaking up on you. You'd be cooking dinner, sliding the dish into the oven to cook. You feel his big hands peeling your shorts and panties down and he just feasts. His tongue slurps and licks up and down the curves of your ass, arms pining you down. He makes you cum within a few minutes, embarrassingly.
• he loves being a meanie and slapping his cock against your folds, sensing how needy you are. 'Poor baby, you wet? Hah?' He groans out, slapping his meat harder against your clit, making you squirm hard.
• he CHERRISHES your tits. He plucks your tits and tweaks them between his fingers and thumb, a little habit he has when hes horny. You could be brushing your teeth and he comes behind you, hands sneaking up your shirt, groping and tweaking and pinching. You know what it means.
• he loves blowing raspberries on your pussy. All over your clit too. He wont stop. PFFT PFT PFFTT– And honestly, you dont want him to stop. Whatsoever.
