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[msbigredmachine]

From sidekick to centerpiece!

Behold, your NEW NXT champion, Trick Williams!

[msbigredmachine]

New To This - Chapter 3

NEW TO THIS MASTERLIST

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Unbelievable. Truly unbelievable.

It’s been three hours since her first-ever official wrestling match, and Delilah couldn’t stop smiling. It had lasted all of eight minutes, and although she lost, no one could deny that both she and her opponent, Faye, had pulled a showstopper out of thin air. Delilah had only ever attempted a moonsault once in her life, one evening at training when she was feeling adventurous, but tonight, the burst of adrenaline had buoyed her, and it felt so natural being poised on the top rope. To her shock and delight, the crowd had given them a standing ovation when it was over. It was, as far as she could remember, the happiest day of her life. After Andre’s proposal, of course.

She hadn’t been this confident at first, though. She remembered being alone in the tiny, dingy locker room, on the verge of throwing up about fifteen minutes before the match. She remembered the loud cheers as the announcer geared the fans up for the upcoming match. She remembered forcing herself out, walking numbly towards the ring, then looking into the crowd and almost tripping on her own feet in shock at the sight of Jey up in the VIP area with Tank, unable to believe he’d actually showed up to watch her. HER! How she worked through the bundle of nerves and emotions, she would never know. But she did. And it was enough to convince her that she could still pursue her dream. That she wasn’t walking away from this just yet, because there was hope that she was finally going somewhere with wrestling.

Tank and Jey – she still wasn’t comfortable enough to call him Josh – had taken her out to celebrate afterwards. Even after leaving the bar well after midnight, both men didn’t seem willing to go home just yet. And Delilah didn’t mind.

“Your garden’s really nice, uce,” Jey observed the small but neat bed of flowers gracing the sides of the front door.

“Thanks! Andre worked hard on it,” Delilah beamed on behalf of her fiancé, “Dre’s the greatest landscaper in allll of Pensacola, so if you got a lawn that needs spicin’ up, hit him up.” Stepping over the threshold into her home, she winced at the mini warzone that greeted her. “Sorry for the mess,” she murmured sheepishly.

Tank looked around the trailer house and shrugged. “It ain’t that bad today. I’ve seen it in far worse shape,” he commented, lowering his huge self onto the old, worn couch in the center of the small living area.

“Damn, thanks Tank,” Delilah replied with a roll of her eyes. Way to embarrass her in front of Jey.

The man in question had been silent as he looked around the new environment. “Ignore him, Delilah. I like it,” he commented, finally facing her.

The trainee blushed profusely and dumped the bags of takeout they’d bought on the way home on the coffee table. She knew he was only being nice. “Could be better, I know you’re not used to tiny spaces like this,” she rushed defensively, retreating to the kitchen to grab three Bud Lights from the refrigerator. Surely Jey lived in a far more lavish abode, with all the money he was raking in at WWE. The Bentley Continental GT he drove her and Tank around with tonight was solid evidence. He lived large and her place was no doubt shameful compared to his, wherever that was.

Settling down next to Tank, the huge smile was still glued to her face, her right leg bouncing up and down in excitement. “Oh my god, I’m not sure I’m gonna get any sleep tonight! I still can’t believe I wrestled my first real match!”

“Yeah, and we predict it’s gonna be the first of many,” Tank drank from his beer as Delilah nodded enthusiastically, and he jerked his thumb in Jey’s direction. “At least, he thinks so. Right, Uce?”

"Heck yeah," said Jey, observing her over the rim of the silver can of alcohol in his grasp.

Delilah was still in awe that he was here, sitting in her home. It was tough to pretend she wasn’t thoroughly enjoying the attention she’d been getting from him the past two days. “You ain’t sayin’ that just to fuck with me, right?” she asked him blatantly, then cringed at her unwise choice of words.

Something flickered in his eyes. Then, with a low chuckle, he responded, “Baby girl, I ain’t never said shit I don’t mean,” Licking his lips briefly, he stared at the lone female in the room. “Look, we both see how talented you are. It’s about time you did too. That’s probably what’s holding you back. You should believe in yourself more.”

Delilah tilted her head at the use of that inappropriate nickname yet again, and she was torn as to whether she should voice her objection. Before she could make up her mind, a loud ‘thud’ sounded from the direction of the bedroom she shared with her fiancé.

Oh. Shit.

"Aw, shit, someone’s awake,” Tank chuckled and winked at Delilah, propping his feet on top of the coffee table. “Girl, you in troubleee,” he sang teasingly.

Casting her gaze to the amused smirk on Jey’s face, she refocused on the annoyed grumbles and shuffling feet. “Gimme a sec, guys,” she said softly, getting up and hurrying towards her angry fiancé in the hallway. “Hey babe,” she greeted him, forcing a wide smile as she rested a hand on his bare chest.

“What’s with all the fuckin’ racket?” Andre cut her off sharply, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm.

Looking up into his dark eyes, she rubbed his arm placatingly. “We’ll be more quiet. I promise,” she whispered, “Just go back to bed, okay?”

But Andre was already wide awake and very unhappy about that fact. “For fuck’s sake, Dee, I gotta go to work in…” Pausing, he squinted at the clock in the kitchen. “What time is it?”

“One a.m.,” she answered quietly, her cheeks burning as she lowered her eyes to the floor. “Baby, I’m sorry we woke you. Please go back to bed,” she pleaded.

Shaking his head, Andre glared at his fiancée and gestured towards the two men in the living room. “Hell no. Not until you get ‘em the fuck outta here,” he insisted. When she huffed disbelievingly, he shook his head again. “Woman, I gotta be up in four hours. One of us has to work. Who else gon’ pay for these damn lights you got on?” he spat.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Delilah bit back, crossing her arms angrily, “I made two hundred dollars tonight, F.Y.I.”

When his eyes swept over her wrestling gear, Andre scoffed. “How? Working the pole?” he taunted.

Delilah’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“Look whatchu wearin’. You couldn’t find more modest attire? Dress like a future wife should dress?”

Watching the entire argument from his seat in the living room, Josh felt his hands ball into fists. He understood the dude being mad for being woken up so late – after all, he’d done some bitching of his own at colleagues who rolled into the hotel at all hours of the morning causing a racket when he was trying to sleep. But he certainly didn’t appreciate the way he was disrespecting Delilah, especially while she was trying to apologize. As much as he wanted to say something to the punk, he did not think it wise to try to step in between the rowing couple. Yet.

“Look, tonight was the most thrilling night of my life, okay?” Delilah was saying, “I got a standing ovation after my match! Unfortunately you couldn’t see it, cuz you weren’t there even though you promised you would,” she made sure to add. “And if I wanna celebrate with my friends for doing so awesome, I’ll do it. God knows you and your friends have kept me up at night enough times in the past!”

“Nah, you not gon’ pull that bullshit on me right now,” Andre rolled his shoulders angrily and glared over her head at the two huge men who had now risen to their feet. “And if you don’t wanna kick your so-called friends out of my house, then I fuckin’ will.” Brushing past his fiancée, he stomped down the hall. He didn’t quite care if they were both built like brick walls and could probably kill him with their bare hands. This was his house and he was the one in charge here. “Ay, Tank, I let you have my girl for the night. It’s time I got her back,” he said.

Acutely aware that both Tank and Jey were about to give Andre a piece of their minds, Delilah quickly stepped between them before anything could go down. “Thank y’all so much for tonight, guys,” she cut in, meeting Tank’s eyes, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she added, giving him a look that told him how sorry she was for Andre’s unbecoming behavior.

With a nod, Tank patted her shoulder. “You know what, Parrish? Why don’t you take tomorrow night off. You’ll need your rest after tonight, trust me.”

She nodded gratefully and turned toward Jey, totally embarrassed to look at him after he’d borne witness to her humiliation at the hands of her fiancé. Honestly, she’d desperately wanted him to think she was a tough chick, that she wasn’t just putting on a show for his benefit. And Andre had ruined it all with his antics tonight.

Following the men outside, she was taken by surprise when Josh stopped midway to his car and suddenly turned to face her. Instantly, she avoided his stare again, pushing her hair behind her ear.

“Gimme your phone,” he told her, holding out his hand. 

“What?”

“Trust me. Give it here,” he repeated, waiting until she placed the device in his hand. He tapped in a number of digits and made a call, smiling when his iPhone rang in his back pocket. “We got each other’s numbers now,” he announced, handing her phone back to her. “If you wanna talk about wrestling, life, whatever…Don’t hesitate to call me anytime.”

Staring at the card, and then back at him, she raised an eyebrow. “Anytime?”

“Anytime,” he repeated, looking her in her striking hazel eyes which he noticed were filled with the unmistakable shine of tears. “For real. A'ight?”

Delilah gave a small smile and tucked her phone back in her pocket. “Okay. Thanks, Jey, I really appreciate it,” she said sincerely. 

“My friends call me Josh,” he insisted.

“Is that what we are? I've only known you a couple of days,” she responded.

“Sometimes, a couple of days is more than enough," he explained, watching her for one long moment before cupping her chin and tilting her face up to meet his. “Keep your head up, baby girl. You a queen. Don’t let nobody make you hide your pretty face.” And with one final wink, he let go of her, turned and made his way towards his car.

Watching them drive off, she willed away the flutter that was filling her insides and trudged back into the house, taking a deep, shaky breath. She had been filled with so much happiness and pride only a few minutes earlier, filled with hope for the future she was trying to create. But the confrontation with her fiancé, in front of Jey Uso for that matter, had snuffed it all out in a heartbeat. She was tempted to abandon Andre and sleep on the couch for the night, not wanting to be anywhere near him. But knowing the aches and pains that would descend on her in the morning, she thought it wiser to be in a bed tonight, no matter how angry she was with him.

Walking slowly to her bedroom, she pushed the door open tentatively, both relieved and annoyed to see that he was back in bed and out like a light. He always was a quick sleeper, unlike her. Shaking her head, she shed her ring gear, showered and found one of Andre’s big t-shirts to wear. She slid into the bed, ensuring to keep her back to him. She didn’t react when Andre’s strong arms wrapped around her a few moments later, didn’t flinch when his hard body pressed against hers from behind, only stared blankly through the darkness at the wall in front of her.

For as long as she had known her husband-to-be, she had been head over heels in love with him. After their first date, she had told her sister that she was going to marry him one day. She would never forget the twinkle in his beautiful dark eyes, or her unbridled joy, on the day he proposed. Back then, both had only harbored the glamorized fairytale version of the idea of marriage. Back then they’d been inseparable; hardly argued, hardly did anything without the other. Neither of them were weighed down by the strain of responsibility or ambition. Things were so different now. For one, she had far more ambition, and she found herself realizing that it was big enough to want to leave his side and do her own thing for the first time in a decade.

Her personal dream and the dream she and Andre had shared for so long hung in the balance, and right now, one was looking far more possible to achieve than the other.

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Thoughts?

Banner made by me. Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

TAGGING: @jxtina-86 @wrestlingprincess80 @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @alyyaanna @squishyguishy @jstarr86 @murrylove @thewarlordsworld @mzv11 @cozyaliensuperstar7 @nayys-world @hunnidmilly @cyberdejos2 @papireigns-05 @niknakbucks92 @captainwithoutmakingitlove @sovereigngoth @aisharmi @kennedi0818 @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @herwickedlittlesins @questionable-behaviour @tribalchiefreigns @2-muchsauce @thatbxtchsblog @raya-hunter01 @marchi36753 @lovelysuccess @christinabae @wooahmiri @thatonecarebear @tabletheofhead @rheaanddamianfan @vebner37 @hanley1577 @princessesareforsuckers @-naturally @joannasteez @bbygirlky18 @lilucey @theninthwonder @melaninsugababy @chocovibesonly @msbluehaz3 @scarlettnoir01 @heerah34 @empressdede @tbmotw @darkangelchronicles @visionarymode @marasdeathnote @aintnorainbows @meggylynnloves @shantinextdoor @harlemblipster @trc-punzel @afterdarkprincess @nbanenefrmdao @sassginaswanmills @purplehairgawdess @holisticcoach @girlwhogaf @royalkay23 @heyitsnajabrinee @stoner2k @reci1996 @catxo @iamimanim @lookmais @ts1mp0ne @shonny09 @lizzyd1ish @m3llowww @skyesthebomb @final1miya @mzv11 @kia1996 @randomuser0711 @yourtribalqueen @caramelcleopatraa @katymae12344 @that-one-anxious-mango @yana3sworld @ajenae @truefant4sy @thetribalqueen @bhjszsdxc @paigereeder @christinabae @justazzi @maknaehyucks @mindairy

[msbigredmachine]

So, Mr “She was black and ugly” is AEW champion. Yikes! 😬

I’m so sorry, Samoa Joe 😔

Congrats to Willow! Now that’s the Black champion I can get behind.

[msbigredmachine]

My lust for Tama didn’t start last week. Enjoy!

Come What May Masterlist

Today was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. So why did she feel like she was making the biggest mistake of her life? Roman Reigns/OC/Tama Tonga 

WARNINGS: Lots of angst, self-harm

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

The Finale

[msbigredmachine]

This! Thank you to my lovely fellow readers ☺️☺️☺️

people telling you they reread your fic is the biggest compliment you could ever receive. there are thousands of stories out there begging to be found, to be explored, but your story meant so much to someone that they came back to it eagerly, they went over every word again. to love is to return and loving a fic is rereading it. thank you to all readers and rereaders <3333

[msbigredmachine]

Tama is being portrayed as a straight KILLER and I love it! Savagery on a 100! Love it love it love it!

[msbigredmachine]

“We Want Roman” after complaining about him for his entire reign is nasty work 😬

[msbigredmachine]

I wonder how Tama Tonga is going to cope cutting his first PG promo where he can’t cuss 🤣

[msbigredmachine]

Oldie but goodie. Enjoy!

Latch - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

The most meaningful conversations take place in the shower. Tribal Chief!Roman goodness.

WARNING: The usual smut and Daddy kink.

Word Count: 4.4k

——————–

The bed’s cold.

That was the Tribal Chief’s first thought as he stirred from his slumber, slowly regaining consciousness. Without opening his eyes, he stretched an arm out in search of her familiar warm softness, and was a little disappointed to be clutching only rumpled sheets. The Costa Rican sunlight was breaking into his bedroom through the partially curtained window. A small amount of light, but bright enough to force his eyes to flutter open.

Keep reading

[msbigredmachine]

Get attacked!! ✨🌈SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING🌈✨

Thank you! 😁

[msbigredmachine]

As Dwayne locked eyes with you over Roman’s shoulder, you inwardly hoped your boyfriend could not feel the shiver that caressed your skin.

P.S. I am STRUGGLING with this one shot, been working on it for ages 😭

All my mutuals have been ragged already.

LAST SENTENCE TAG GAME

i stole this from @mrsmungus

RULES: post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.

It’s been six months since he had Kiyana in his bed and he was feening for more. 

@harmshake

@empressdede

@msbigredmachine

@wrestlingprincess80

@kill-the-artiste

@theninthwonder

@southerngirl41

@raya-hunter01

@sheyaish

@kyleoreillylover

@solefae

@joannasteez

@paigereeder

I don't know seventeen people writers on here lmao and thats on me

[msbigredmachine]

@whatdoeseverybodywant “Fans” like these don’t think through a lot of their posts. It’s nauseating. I’m a massive Roman fan myself but I could never stoop so low as to say a lot of the nonsense I’ve read all in the name of defending Roman.

Yes, SOME of Cody’s fans said a lot of foul shit, but stooping to their gutter level makes one just as bad.

At the end of the day this is all fictional. They need to calm down.

Wow Paul you take over a company and your first choice is to reward the white guy whose fan base threatened people including children and wished death on people in which this idiot had MULTIPLE chances to say anything and instead encouraged it so you give him the title. A PoC story you let the white guy come in and take it over. I was happy u took over from Vince but not now this is disappointing and disgusting you should be ashamed of yourself as much as I love the business after this I’m stepping back cause the priorities are clearly all still fucked up hope your happy with your blonde politician champion FUCK CODY FUCK HIS STORY and FUCK U WWE

[msbigredmachine]

Wrestling “fans” complained when Roman was not on the shows regularly and was being booked as the special attraction that he is.

Now wrestling “fans” are complaining about Cody’s ONE WEEK OLD title reign, including some of you on this app.

No one hates wrestling more than the “internet wrestling community”. A whole cesspool. 🙄🤣

[msbigredmachine]

Just over one year ago.

Enjoy again!

Dirty Little Secret - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

They are each other’s escape, too good to let go of. Until they have to let go.

PAIRING: Tribal Chief Roman Reigns x OC

Warnings: LOTS OF SMUT, toxic behavior, cheating, angst

Word count: 10k (Sorry's it's so long 😆)

A/N: ANOTHER ONE! This has been in my drafts for months! Still haven't figured out what genre this story falls under. Maybe y'all can help me out lol. Enjoy!

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Anaheim, California 

Roman’s POV

10.35pm. Fresh off yet another great Smackdown in which I was the center of attention as usual. The show went great; I’m still champ, I’m on a high and I know I'm gonna sleep good tonight…Well, when I do sleep, that is.

I step out of the shower and towel myself as I return to the bedroom of my bus. I stop in my tracks and drink in the beauty perched at the edge of my bed, her long legs crossed, her beloved Women’s title on her lap and her phone by her ear. Even in a bathrobe and a silk bonnet protecting her hair, she looks good enough to eat, just like she did tonight, and I plan on having her for my late-night dessert.

Being the face of the WWE, the Tribal Chief and the Head of the Table, I don’t fuck around with just anyone. Tori Milan is as premium as premium gets. The Alpha Female, the Smackdown Women’s Champion, one of the most successful professional wrestlers of our generation, and my fuck buddy. If the fans knew that I get to dick her down on a nightly basis, they would lose their minds. But they would never know. No one would ever know. She’s my sexy little secret and I plan to keep it that way. 

“Baby, you know I can’t FaceTime while driving,” she scolds whoever she’s talking to on the phone. I know who it is, but I refuse to acknowledge his existence. Yeah, I’m petty like that, and I’m about to be even more petty in a second. 

Stopping at the bed, I move her title belt away, then kneel before her and wrap her legs around my waist. My bare chest is flush against her own as I kiss on her neck while I rub her thighs. Her scent engulfs my senses, bringing me into her world. A small groan rumbles in my chest as I suck a little harder on her throat and push my hands into her robe to massage her breasts. She tries to look mad at me, but the hazy look in her eyes tells me that she’s turned on. So, I switch to a better…distraction.

Kissing and licking a trail down her body, I tuck my head between her legs and grip her thighs so she can’t get away. My tongue jabs between her pussy folds, and she bites her lip to keep from moaning. Spreading her legs wider, I lick and suck her as quietly as possible. That idiot on the phone is still yapping away, oblivious to the fact that his wife is getting this work…again.

“Babe, I hear you, but can we talk tomorrow, please?” She tries to rush through the rest of the call. “Look, I gotta go. I’m about to ride, I mean drive…I’m not cutting you off, Caleb, I need to get going…I’ll call you in the morning, I promise…You too. ‘Night.” Hanging up, she tosses the phone and slumps down to the bed with a loud groan. I bury my face in her depths, dining on her sweetness.  Fuck, she always tastes so good. Even better are the noises she’s making as I eat the fuck out of her.

“Eat it up, Daddy…fuck, your tongue...mmph, eat my fucking pussy,” she encourages me.

“So fucking juicy, baby.” I take my fingers and spread her folds open. “Most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen, you know that?” Lowering my mouth again, I take my time, licking her opening, over and over. She’s squirming, trying to fight off her orgasm, but she’s no match for my talents. Holding her down to the bed, I twist my tongue around her clit, going fast, then slow. Once I push my finger inside her, it’s a wrap.

“I'm gonna come. Fuck, I’m coming!” she moans, her trembling fingers clutching the back of my head. With a few pumps of my finger, she screams out my name. Her back arches, her thighs quiver as she comes all over my mouth and finger and beard. I lick her all up, her satisfied sighs music to my ears. Pulling her robe completely off her, I usher her further up the bed and keep her flat on her back. On my knees, I hold up one of her trademark long legs. The hunger in her eyes fuels me, and I pat her pussy with my dick as she gasps. 

“You know I had a title match tonight, right?” she reminds me. “I wasn’t on just segment duty all night, unlike some people.” 

“That’s why I’m the face of the company,” I tell her. “And don’t worry. You can lay there and let me do the work,” I offer, even though it’s not something I do often. But for her, I always make an exception.

“So generous,” she mocks, her teasing giggle vanishing with a moan when I slide inside her. Her legs open wider and I watch my cock slowly split open her pussy, accommodating all my length and girth. She takes me so well with no complaints, and it’s why I always want her in my bed whenever I can have her.

“You looked so fuckin’ hot tonight,” I tell her between thrusts, watching them chocolate titties bounce, “Your new ring gear is sexy as fuck.”

“I had you in mind when I designed it,” she answers. A shiver passes through me as her tight little cunt suckles my pumping cock. Tori smirks as she gauges the look of pleasure on my face. “Mmm, look at you, Big Daddy. You love this pussy, don’t you?”

“The Tribal Chief loves your pussy, babe,” I say, twisting her lower body to the side so her ass pokes out at me. Grabbing a handful of the supple cheek, I begin flexing my hips firmly, grinding all up in the pussy, making her moan over and over. “You like that, huh? You like the way I’m fucking you, baby?” I ask her, spanking her ass and watching it jiggle.

“Yeah, it feels so good. Fuck, baby, right there,” Her voice dies out as I shift her knee up to her chest and keep digging into her, massaging her g-spot with my dick which is now covered in her juices. Her wetness is the only sound that can be heard at the moment and it’s hot as hell. I make sure to rub her body while I fuck her, making her feel good. Then, I curve my hand around her throat and squeeze a little, taking her pleasure levels up another notch. Her eyes roll into the back of her head and she seems to stop breathing. Pride rushes through me and I lean down to slip my tongue in her mouth for an erotic CPR, bringing my girl back to life as I give her this deep dick. Nobody fucks her as good as I do, not even her lame ass husband.

Our collective breathing is ragged as I pick up the pace, thrusting faster and harder into her. Tori clutches my hips, as though trying to bring me deeper into her, and it prompts me to accelerate. Her pussy tugs my dick with every thrust, dragging me towards my release. I pull out and spread her legs open again, giving both of us brief respite. Stroking my dick for a few seconds, I guide it back inside her, watching her jaw drop and her head arch into the pillow. I lean forwards and pin her knees to the bed, and her moans devolve into throaty cries as I pound her into the mattress. The bed bounces beneath us from how hard I’m going, but shit always feels so good with her that I lose control more times than I want to admit. Gasping and moaning, she stares up at me, gripping my forearms with both hands. 

“Shit, babe…yes, fuck me with that big dick, Daddy…” 

“Uh huh, take this fuckin’ dick, take it,” I growl at her, switching to deep, grinding strokes that find the bottom of her pussy. My balls tighten, and judging from the way she’s moaning and the rush of warm liquid I feel underneath me, she’s squirting, and squirting generously. Heat courses through my veins, and I keep going. In and out of her, in and out, until my entire body goes rigid. Her pussy pulses and milks my dick, and I nut so hard, it takes my breath away. Panting softly, I can barely hold myself up on my arms; my heart is hammering so loud I’m sure she can hear it. A lifetime goes by before I release her legs and slowly start to pull out, but she stops me and rolls me onto my back, kissing me softly as she keeps me inside her. She’s lucky she’s got that Nexplanon because she should be knocked up many times over by now.

"Don't move, I wanna feel you go soft inside me,” she whispers against my lips, her heated body flush on top of mine. 

I have zero objections and keep making out with her, caressing her soft skin. Of course, this does little to soften my dick, especially with the way her hips lazily wind against mine. Instinctively, I mimick her, and it turns into a nice grinding session. She’s essentially riding me, and it feels amazing, been that way since our first time all those years ago.

"You got more for me, Reigns?" Tori asks with a knowing smirk, and moans as my hands grip her gyrating backside to keep her down on my erection.

"What if I do, Milan?" I say in response, squeezing her ass, so round and soft in my hands. I could touch her all night, she feels so good.

"You better give it to me, then, cuz I want it," she orders me with another kiss, rocking her hips more persistently. I lean back and rest my arms behind my head in a relaxed position. “Well, baby, if you want it so bad, then take it,” I smirk.

She cocks her eyebrow and smiles, a silent acceptance of my challenge. Planting her palms against my chest, she lifts her knees off the bed and proceeds to ride me like her pussy is asking a question and my cock is the final answer. Her stamina has always impressed me, and the fact that she’s fucking me like this after a twenty-minute title match and one steamy round already, is fascinating. So I let her take what she wants, like I always do. Because I’ve never really known how to say no to her, and honestly? 

I never want to.

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

C4 Energy Drink photoshoot, New York

I know she can feel my eyes on her. She knows damn well how she should behave at a photoshoot. But she never listens to Daddy, and now I’m forced to act nonchalant as she lowers down with a barbell in a picture-perfect squat, surrounded by all these cameramen watching her poke her ass out, lusting over what’s mine. It makes me want to blow our cover and take her right in front of everybody in here, nosy-ass Bianca Belair included. I’m sorely tempted to, and maybe I will, before the shoot ends.

Forgive the desperation in my tone. We’ve been apart for two weeks as she had to be in San Diego for press while I was stuck at home in Miami, and the separation has driven me crazy. These days I’m much happier to be at work than back home, mainly because of a certain Smackdown Women’s champion, who has dropped the barbell and is now posing with one of the energy drinks. Why the fuck is she arching her back like that? These motherfuckers are practically salivating and I am fighting the urge to physically throw each and every one of them through the glass windows. After an eternity, the Director calls for a break and Tori stands up straight again. I wait for her to go to a secluded corner, and when our gazes meet through one of the stretched mirrors, that is my cue to go over to her.

Blocking her from everyone else’s view, I feel her jolt slightly when I press my front against her side. My hand runs up her hip and my tongue sweeps over her sweaty shoulder. The salty moisture doesn’t faze me; I’ve licked up her sweat many times before.

“You keep bending over like that and we’re gonna have a problem,” I growl in her ear.

“Hello to you too, Reigns. I see your eye-fucking skills have improved,” she tells me.

“So have yours,” I mumble, keeping my voice low as I pull her against my groin. “I've missed my baby girl. Did you miss Daddy, hmm?”

She turns her face towards me and raises an eyebrow. “I guess.” She’s acting nonchalant but the twinkle in her eye gives her away. She’s hot for me and I can prove it. I buck my hips into her, and to my satisfaction, she gasps a little as she feels the evidence of my arousal. The hand I put on her hip slides down to her round ass, my grip generous and possessive. 

“Text me when you’re finished,” I instruct her.

She can only nod as I release her and walk away. I feel her eyes on me. The anticipation is making my dick hard, and I might need a cold shower to bring this bad boy down. I shake off all distractions by refocusing on the shoot. I choose to work out with a medicine ball, which is important not only for carrying motherfuckers in the ring, but also my girls when we fuck. 

Yes, I said girls. This also includes my wife.

No, I don’t want to talk about it. And fuck you and your judgment.

I’m almost done shooting when my phone buzzes, and what I see when I open it dries up my throat.

Tori has taken a selfie, standing butt naked with her back to what looks like the mirror in a changing room. She’s angled the phone such that her fat, shapely ass is on full display. I look up and I’m just now realizing she’s no longer on set. A text message has accompanied the racy picture.

Come find me, Daddy. I dare you. 💦 

I don’t take kindly to dares and she’s about to find that out. Excusing myself, I head for the men’s restroom only to take a sharp turn in the direction of the women’s changing room. Entering carefully, I ensure the coast is clear before heading to the showers. I hear only one running, and I know it’s Tori because Bianca is still outside. Quietly, I take off my clothes and put them aside. I take a peek through the curtain to confirm it’s her, and then rip it open, startling her.

“You really thought I wouldn’t, huh,” I growl, stepping inside and drawing the curtain back shut. I smirk at the gleam in her eyes as they flicker down to my hard dick.

"Guess I was wrong," Tori shrugs, gasping when I abruptly move her towards the shower wall. I pin her face-first against the tiled surface and grind against her round ass, kissing all the way along her shoulders and the back of her neck. I kick her feet wider apart and run my hands over her ass, massaging the fleshy mounds for a few seconds before spreading them open. Wasting no more time, I grab my dick and push into her sweet pussy, and she squirms against me.

"Don't make too much noise, and don’t fuckin’ move," I snarl in her ear. Gripping her waist roughly, I ram myself inside her, hard. 

"Fuck,” Tori moans, her hands braced against the wall for leverage. I arch my back, bringing myself almost completely out of her, before driving back in. I stroke the pussy long and deep, my fingers digging into her hips. Despite my warnings, her moans are getting louder and louder, and I’m forced to cover her mouth with my hand.

"Shut up or we'll get caught,” I reply, my face buried in her neck, my breath thick against the goosebumps on her skin. In response, she arches her ass outwards, taking me deeper inside her. I remove my hand from her mouth to yank her head backwards. My dick swells at the way she stares back at me, her mouth open and panting, eyes bright with lust, mirroring my own. We tongue each other down, our kiss hot and urgent as I grind inside her, moaning into each other's mouths. 

“Mmm, this pussy is so good, baby. So fuckin’ good,” I praise her, giving her backside an underhand smack, biting my lip when her pussy grips my dick nice and tight.

“Harder,” she whispers.

Letting out a groan of my own, I spank her again and then start pounding into her, the wet, smacking sound clashing with the running water. My hands glide up her wet skin to paw at her breasts, tugging her peaked nipples. Her body begins to tremble, her throaty moans threatening to undo me. I’m a hundred percent sure that anyone out there can hear us loud and clear, but I don’t care anymore. I need Tori Milan’s pussy like I need air. 

"Shit, Roman," she gasps, her eyes in the back of her head as I fuck her into the wall with an intense speed and desperation. At this point I’m bereft of words, drowning in the sensations washing over me. Her head rocks back onto my tattooed shoulder as she gushes all over my cock. “Oh my god, fuck!” she groans.

I’m right behind her, in more ways than one. I only have a few more thrusts left in me before I explode, holding her tight, grunting into her neck as my hot cum fills her up, my dick emptying inside her quivering pussy. My head is spinning, the intensity of my release and the thrill of getting caught amplify the pleasure surging through me. Keeping her pinned in place, I rock my pelvis against her ass, riding out my nut, ensuring she takes every last drop of me. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I give her breasts a quick squeeze before I step away from her, smiling at her moan of protest when my dick slips out of her wet warmth. She turns around and leans against the wall, a dazed grin on her beautiful face.

"You were quick," she comments.

“You came, didn’t you?” I counter, and she smirks as she nods. “Good. That's all that matters.” I grab her chin and pull her to me, roughly shoving my tongue back into her mouth. Her body presses into mine as we kiss, and I’m not surprised to feel myself hardening against her wet skin - it’s almost scary how horny she makes me.

"If you want more, you know where to find me," I mumble against her lips, "Dirty little slut." With one final slap of her ass, I slip out of the shower, grabbing a towel along with my clothes to change back into them.

I’m almost at the exit when Bianca Belair rounds the corner and stops me in my tracks. Her eyes dart past me towards the showers and she smiles. “So that was y’all making all that noise,” she says.

My being in the women’s changing room nullifies any excuse I want to make, so I merely shrug my shoulders. “Yeah, so?”

Bianca raises an eyebrow. “You know she’s married, right? And so are you.”

If she thinks she can stand here and judge me, she’s got another thing coming. “Girl, you gonna stand here and act like you and Montez ain’t been swingin’ with Naomi and Jimmy?” I grin when her jaw slowly drops. Got yo ass. “Yeah bitch, I know all about that. I also know that since your man’s been injured and Naomi’s gone, you and Jimmy have been going at it…alone.” My laughter is cold and mirthless. “I mean, he won’t fuckin’ shut up about it. All he talks about is how good your mouth feels around his-”

“Fuck you! We’re consenting adults who have an arrangement,” she argues. “Unlike y’all, we’re not cheating!”

“Right, keep telling yourself that. Maybe if you learn to mind your business next time, I’ll mind mine.”

The smirk that clouds her features is one of defeat. “Asshole,” she bites.

“And don’t you forget it.” With that, I walk out, ignoring her accusing glare.

I don’t see what the big deal is. Nearly all my co-workers are fucking around on their partners in some shape or form. They’re either bored or lonely, and I happen to be both. The spark I had with Tracee is not there anymore, but leaving her is not an option, not anytime soon. Tori helps me forget all about the bullshit. She makes me feel really good and I’m not quite ready to give that all up either.

I’ll figure it out. I always do.

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

Houston, Texas

Tori’s POV

The man breathing down my neck reminds me why I hate these fucking events. I’m forced to engage with people pretending to care about wrestling while they stare at my tits the whole time. A lot of them don’t take me seriously because my presentation is on the more…provocative side, which is fine by me. Yes, I'm sexy and glam. I back the flashiness up with my wrestling ability and my mic work, and I have a title to show for it. I’ve proved them all wrong and I’m proud of that. But more importantly, there’s someone who’s just as proud of me and he makes sure to tell me every chance he gets, at least when his mouth is not occupied with my pussy.

The Tribal Chief. The champ. Ol’ Demon Dick himself. All of those attributes means he is more than a little self-assured. Arrogant, really, to asshole-like proportions. Yet, it hasn’t stopped me from fucking him as regularly as I do. I mean, why would I? It’s Roman Reigns, a walking, talking, five course gourmet meal. Look at him now, all tall and dark and delicious in that suit as he engages with guests at our annual Summerslam fundraiser. Like, why the fuck would I turn all that down when it’s offered to me on a silver platter?

Ever since we first met in 2016, Roman and I have always vibed. There was an attraction there that we both acknowledged but never acted upon it. I suspect he was more spooked by our nine-year age difference than the fact that we were both with other people at the time. But we are adults and it was not a big deal to me. I’ve always liked my men older, more experienced, sexier…like Roman. 

The pandemic brought us much closer. We spent about seven months in the same rehab center nursing similar injuries, with no visitors thanks to the lockdown. At first, we confided in each other about the pressures of the business we were in and how to overcome our setbacks together. But soon, our platonic conversations became more intimate, sexual, then led to crossing many lines that I’d been dying to cross. Kisses. Touches. Oral sex. As soon as we were both discharged, we met up to get it on for real. I’ll never forget that day, the anticipation that bubbled between my legs, the lust in his beautiful eyes as we finally indulged in forbidden fruit. For twenty-four hours, he fucked me in ways I don’t think I will ever experience with anyone else. He still fucks me like that; that’s why I still crave the depravity in our meetings. Crave the mild abuse he doles out occasionally as punishment for not letting him have me sooner. I crave his touch every day, both gentle and rough. I crave him.

It was early into our affair that he made the decision to switch up his wrestling character. We did a lot of brainstorming together, and I like to think that I inspired some aspects of the Head of the Table as we know it, the initial vibe and aesthetic of it. I think back to that first segment on Smackdown with him in that dark room, sitting in front of a mahogany desk like a Mafia boss as he addressed Jey Uso via satellite. Ironically he had bent me over that same desk in his study at his home just two days before that segment aired. So imagine my surprise to see an exact replica of the desk on TV. Or was it? Because the scratch marks I left on it while Roman was balls-deep in me were still there. I guess we will never know.

Amongst the sea of grifters, I catch sight of the other woman Roman fucks regularly. Her back is turned but I know it’s his wife. Tracee. She’s a pretty little thing. Not his type, but pretty nonetheless. I remember how happy she was on her wedding day and feeling pity for her, especially after her new husband still found time to come to my room after the reception. And speaking of husband…

Caleb is next to me, looking around like he’s discovered a goldmine. He’s been all up in my ear for weeks about coming to the fundraiser to meet with bigwigs to help kickstart his advertising business. I should be more supportive of my husband’s endeavors, but his misplaced optimism is not for me. And the last thing I want is him talking to Roman about anything. But as though on cue, my side piece begins to approach us. I take a closer look at his wife, and I can’t stop my eyes from bugging out of my head at the sight of her protruding belly.

What the actual fuck.

“Hi Tori, my wife has been wanting to meet you. Tracee, this is Tori Milan. Tori, this is my wife Tracee," Roman introduces us, looking slightly uncomfortable as he nudges her towards me.

Performing in the WWE has improved my acting skills. I invoke all of it now as I stick out my hand and flash my best Women’s Champion smile. “Pleasure to meet you, Tracee,” I grind out.

"Hi Tori! Oh wow, you’re much prettier in person!” Tracee clamors. "I’ve been watching Smackdown more regularly and I think you’re amazing!"

“Thank you for supporting me! I really appreciate it,” I lie. “And congratulations on your…” I can’t bring myself to say it, gesturing at her stomach instead.

“Oh, thank you! Roman and I are so excited!” She gazes up adoringly at her husband whose expression is anything but. She returns her attention to me. “You look so nice! And I absolutely adore your perfume, what’s it called?” Her smile is wide and cheery.

I force myself to oblige her, moments away from throwing up. I can feel Roman’s eyes trying to search mine but I refuse to look at him. He’s got me fucked up if he thinks I have anything to say to him. After my tight conversation with Tracee, I quickly usher Caleb to his seat and join Hunter on stage to address the audience. As we present a video package commemorating WWE’s charitable efforts, Roman stands about a foot away from me. I need the distance, because despite everything I’ve just discovered, my body still burns for him. I still want him and I hate it.

My bad mood continues well into the night. I ignore Roman the entire time, stewing over his insensitivity. I’m still in disbelief and I don’t know what to make of it. Of course I know he has sex with his wife, but to see evidence of it, and for him to let me find out like this is callous and heartbreaking.

“The guy with the bald head. Triple H, right? I wanna go talk to him.”

This is about the tenth stupid comment Caleb is making tonight, and I swear I’m seconds away from excusing myself from the party and leaving him behind. “That’s my fucking boss you’re referring to,” I snarl.

“He’s your boss? Oh. Thought it was Vince,” he says sheepishly, sitting up higher in his seat. “Do you think you could introduce us?”

“Babe, we’re at a social function trying to get money!” I snap, irritated. “Do you want me to interrupt his discussion with the COO of Snickers because you want him to see your portfolio?”

Caleb bristles, clearly wondering what is up my ass. “What kind of wife are you? I’m trying so hard to get my business up and running and you’ve shown no interest. Why did you bother to bring me here if you weren’t gonna help me out?”

“Because you wanted to be here so bad, Caleb! You! You would never have let me hear the end of it if I didn't let you come!”

"So, you saying I need your permission now?"

I start to raise my voice, but pause when I realize a few people are already staring in our direction. An exasperated sigh escapes me. “I can’t do this right now. Not in front of all these people.”

“Of course you can’t. Can’t make the great Tori Milan look bad in front of her fans. When’s the last time you didn’t have to pretend you want to be around me?” Caleb accused.

At this juncture, I’m incensed. All I can do is point towards the entrance. “That’s the way out. If you have plans to ruin my night, then leave. Someone will take you back to the hotel if you ask. Bye.” Without waiting for his response, I stand up from the table and march towards the women’s restroom, shutting myself in as I let the tears spill from my eyes.

I have no idea when the fighting started between my husband and me. Actually, I’m lying. I do. But instead of making things right, I run to Roman, because it’s easier for me; we don’t argue, and we do most of our talking in bed. Caleb and I are drifting apart because of me. I barely let him touch me, and when I do, I’m thinking about Roman. I truly wish it wasn’t this way, but I’m too far gone now.

Fuck.

I hear the bathroom door open and I quickly dry my eyes. No one should see me like this. I have a bitchy badass reputation to uphold. “I’ll be right out,” I call out, freezing when Roman enters and shuts the door behind him. He raises his hands at the look on my face. “I come in peace,” he says.

“You shouldn’t even be in here.”

“You’ll be a’ight.” He pauses and gives me a long look. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“Gee, Roman, would you like to take a guess?” My blood simmers and I shake my head. “When exactly did you plan on telling me she’s having your kid?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, confused.

I recoil, blinking rapidly. “What do I mean? Don’t you think I should’ve been clued in at least?”

“Clued in, and then what? You wanna come to the baby shower? Buy her a present? I fucked my lawfully wedded wife and now she’s pregnant. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

That’s fucked up. It’s so fucked up and he knows it. “Maybe you could have told me so I can decide my next course of action. I may be champion but ain’t no way even I can compete with a wife and a baby and your already crazy schedule.”

“Stop being dramatic. You know I’ll always have time for you.” He licks his lips as he scans me from head to toe. “I’ve been staring at you all night, baby girl. I knew this dress would be pretty on you when I bought it. You look beautiful.”

“Don’t change the subject, Roman. And ain’t your wife outside?”

“Nope, she’s gone, just like your man is. So for the rest of the night, my focus is on you. Focus on me, Tori.” He steps closer to me but I back away.

“No, I can't focus! It’s one thing to hear about your wife when she blows up your phone. It’s another thing to see her in the flesh, carrying your child, I might add, with my husband in the same vicinity.”

“So what are you trying to say?”

“What do you think I’m trying to say?”

“You’re spooked, I get it,” he assesses, “But we’ve come this far and no one knows a thing. You’re panicking over nothing.”

First of all, Bianca knows about us. I'm pretty sure his cousins know, maybe even Heyman. Second, his arrogance astounds me. He’s about to become a whole father, and he’s acting like he has everything under control and I’m not sure how true that is. “I should go,” I mutter, trying to walk past him, but his huge frame blocks my path, shielding my only escape. 

“Baby girl, don’t let this fuck up what we got. I need you,” he pleads.

“And what do we got, Roman? Hmm? I’m your mistress and you’re my side man.”

“Relax. Just relax, okay? Look at me.” He takes my hands into his and presses his forehead to mine, our noses touching. His eyes are loaded with desire, and I know what’s coming. He leans in and brushes his lips against mine, and fireworks explode inside me. His hands slide down to squeeze my butt as he deepens the kiss. I place my hands on his chest and try to plead my case.

“Ro, someone might walk in…”

Without a word, he steps back and locks the door, then returns to me. Pulling me in, he kisses me again, harder, and I sigh as his arms wrap tight around me. Everything else fades away except for this moment, and the feel of his hands on me, and his lips on mine as we moan greedily into each other’s mouths, making each other feel things that neither of us should be feeling.

Still kissing me, he lifts me off my feet, his big hands grasping my ass, and sets me on the edge of the sink, wedging his huge body between my legs. I love how I feel in his arms. He’s a big man with big features - hands, mouth, penis, everything - and he engulfs and encroaches all of me in the best way possible. He gathers my dress up to my waist, and I fight back a moan as he weaves his hand inside my panties.

“Damn baby, you’re wet already,” he remarks, his breath warm on my face. “Is this for me or Caleb?”

“You, Daddy. Of course it’s you,” I breathe, my hips jerking when his thumb brushes my highly sensitive clit. His long fingers tease my slit, rubbing up and down and making me gasp for air.

“You like that, baby? You want more?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t you ever ignore or avoid me again.”

Suddenly, he moves his fingers away and steps back. I pout as I glare at him, my pussy clenching with the need to be filled. “Baby…”

The corner of Roman’s lips twitches as he gauges my frustration. “Aw, what’s wrong? You don’t like it when I don’t give you what you want?” he taunts.

“No,” I admit, reaching out and pulling him back between my spread thighs. Placing a finger under my chin, he raises my face to his, looking me in my eyes.

“Nothing changes between us, Tori. Nothing. You’re mine, period. Do you understand me, baby girl?” he murmurs softly,  placing a tender kiss at the corner of my mouth.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes Daddy. I understand,” I correct myself, shivering when I see the heat in his dark eyes.

“Good. Now tell Daddy you’re sorry for blowing up on him.”

I rub his shoulders apologetically. “I’m sorry, Daddy. It won’t happen again.” Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kiss him slowly, deeply, using my mouth and tongue to show him just how sorry I am. I smile proudly at his slightly dazed countenance as he pulls away, a sheen of our joint saliva coating his lips.

“Apology accepted. Lucky for you, I’m in a good mood. Open your legs wider so I can take what’s mine,” he commands.

My giggle is giddy as I do as I’m told. He preps me by rubbing my folds again, and I groan a little louder than I should. Roman covers my mouth with his, swallowing every sound he coaxes out of me. His lips leave mine for a split second, and then he slowly breaches my entrance with two long fingers. 

“You like that baby? Like my fingers deep in you?” he asks, pumping them inside me.

“Yes, Daddy…Fuck…”

“I know you do. You’re such a slut for me. I’ve taught you so well all these years. God I wanna taste you, T. Wanna fuck you so bad.” 

We both know he can’t because he’ll definitely be kissing up on his wife later tonight, and tasting me on his tongue or his dick will not end well. He has to make do with his fingers, which he is doing spectacularly. Heat spreads through my body and my eyes flutter shut, head thrown back as I ache for more, I always ache for more of Roman Reigns. 

“Naw baby, open your eyes. Look at me when you get off.”

Obediently, my eyes snap open, locking with his. I study his gorgeous face, the lust glittering in his eyes, the tension in his bearded jaw. I lean in for a passionate kiss, our tongues dancing in time with his thrusting fingers, my hips arching into his hand. He hooks my leg over his arm to open me up some more. At the same time, his fingers scissor inside me, short-circuiting my brain. I’m so close I can taste it. His hazy gaze bores into mine, and we both moan as my pussy squeezes around his fingers, lost to the sensations his touch is bringing forth within me. His middle finger curls inside me, and I cry out, a long, broken, high-pitched sob as I finally come undone, flooding his fingers with my cum.

He slides the digits out of me and puts them in my mouth, making me suck off my own juices. He then tilts my face up to kiss me, and we lick and nip the seams of each other’s lips, the wet, erotic sounds ringing around the restroom. My hand sneaks down between our bodies and I cup him through his slacks. His hard-on is raging, twitching in my grasp, and I smile and begin to stroke him. He inhales sharply and eases my hand away. 

“What about you?” I ask, as he sets me back down on my feet. To no surprise, my legs are wobbly and I have to lean against him for support.

“I’ll be fine,” he says. Before I can ask any more questions, he turns me toward the mirror and helps me tidy up my hair and makeup. He washes his hands, doing his best to rid his fingers of my scent. “I’ll text you,” he tells me.

I may not hear from him for another hour, or tomorrow, or next week or even next year. But I nod my head anyway, because anytime I can have him, I’ll happily take it. He leans down and kisses my lips one more time before turning to unlock the door and slips out. I watch him leave, my face flushed and I touch my kiss-swollen lips. I can still feel his fingers inside me, and my thighs squeeze together as I close my eyes with a blissful sigh, treasuring the memory.

-----------

London, England

I’ve never been this excited to be in a foreign country. As the champions of Smackdown, Roman and I are across the pond promoting the next premium live event, and for the first time in a month, we’re together and more importantly, all alone. For four whole days, we can do whatever we want, and you can guess exactly what we’re doing now.

Our makeout sessions are the best. Roman is relaxed on a plush armchair in my incredibly fancy hotel room, with me straddling him. My hands are in his hair as my lips slide lazily against his, while he runs his hands up and down my nearly naked body. We’ve been like this for about ten minutes and every second has been heavenly. 

“You’re such a good kisser, babe,” he compliments me, and groans at my little show of dominance when I hold him by the throat and scoop his tongue right back into my mouth. He keeps playing with my g-string and rocking me against his erection, trying to get me to fuck, but I’m not ready yet. We have time. I just want to savor him for a bit.

“Do you ever get tired of having sex?” I wonder, "We did quite a bit on the jet coming here."

“I ain’t hear you complain one time,” he answers with another charged kiss, fingering my waist beads. “And with pussy as amazing as yours? Never.” He grins arrogantly and squeezes my breast. “Obviously, with a dick like mine, neither do you.”

“Good point,” I murmur, licking my way down his naked body until I’m on my knees on the floor. Grabbing said dick, I jerk him off for a couple of seconds, and then go to town. I love the way he feels in my mouth - thick and rock hard and veiny. I drag my lips down the length of him, then come back up to lick the tip, right over his slit. Roman caresses the back of my head, his lust-filled gaze fixated on my actions. “Mmmm, fuck, baby girl,” he groans, his voice deep and thick with pleasure.

I love giving Roman head. There’s so much of him to play with and he tastes incredible. I take him deeper down my throat, letting him stretch my lips. Listening to his gasps and groans is making me so wet that I’m forced to take off my g-string in the middle of the blowjob, tossing the scrap of material onto his chest. He holds it up to his nostrils and moans out loud, and he twitches in my hand, meaning he’s even more turned on. I stroke and suck him diligently, never letting up, my head bobbing up and down. His abs are visibly crunching as I spit all over his dick and suck around the saliva, making that shit sloppy. As I roll his balls in the palm of my other hand, he tilts his head back, cursing and moaning my name. He hardens in my grip and I know he’s about to come. It feels good to know I can please him like this. I love to please my man. My sweet, sexy man.

His phone rings. It's Tracee on FaceTime. 

I don't know what comes over me. I snatch his phone and throw it at him, right onto his tattooed pec. If I've injured him, I don't give a fuck.

“Your pregnant wife,” I announce bitterly, hopping to my feet. Throwing on my dashiki, I stomp away, keeping my distance. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him hurry into his clothes before leaving my room entirely. Smart move. She’ll know it’s not his suite if he stays. Sitting on my bed, I notice my own phone has a text message. My heart jolts when I see Caleb's name, and then breaks as I read his message.

Love you 😘. Miss you 😢😚 

Inexplicably, tears fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks. Not for the first time, I feel ridiculous for putting myself in this position yet again.

Of course I know that sleeping with another woman’s husband is wrong. I have a whole ass husband of my own! But Roman and I have spent years joined at the hip now - or at least at the genitals - and my body has gotten used to it. When we are together, it’s magic, and when we are apart, it’s torture. I love Caleb, I do. But sometimes being with him just isn't enough. I need to be fucked by great dick, not just good dick. I need god tier dick, which is Roman’s. I need a man who treats me in bed the way I so desperately need to be treated. The way Roman treats me. The way he obviously treats his wife.

Damn, this sucks.

About half an hour later there's a knock on my door, and it’s him again. Once I open, I immediately head outside to the balcony, not wanting to speak to him right now. The vibe is gone and I’m no longer in the mood. Roman decides to not read the room and comes up from behind me, resting his hulking frame on my back, his huge arms enveloping my midriff. I let him hold me, not saying one word, trying to concentrate on the fresh summer air and not the lingering fact that I am not the one he truly belongs to.

“You’re in your own head again,” Roman breaks the silence, his words a murmur against my temple.

“Am I?” I counter. I spread my hands apart on the railing of the balcony, glaring down at the pool below.

“Yes. We both agreed on what this was.”

I let out an unladylike snort. “Did we? Did we ever have a discussion about going our separate ways to be with other people? I don’t recall.”

He groans and throws up his hands. “Oh for fuck’s sake, are we doing this again?”

“Are you being serious right now?” I say angrily, seeing red. 

“It’s the fuckin' flip-flopping for me, Tori. You do it all the time. One minute, you have no problem sneaking around with me. One minute you’re all over me and the next minute you want nothing to do with me and you're making excuses.”

After all this time, he still doesn’t get it. “Oh, and you’re not the same?” I argue, “You don’t go running back to her and ignore me for days on end, then text me from outta nowhere asking me to come suck your dick?”

Roman looks at me with what looks like exasperation. “Tori, you know I have to go back to her. She is my wife. And you have Caleb-”

“And whose fault is that?” I yell, rounding on him, my fists clenched. “Who went off with someone else when we should have been together from the start? It should have been you and me, but you fucked it up for some other bitch! You left me high and dry, Roman! You did that! You're the reason I live like this and I hate it!”

The words come out before I can stop them. The air thickens with uncomfortable silence. When the haze of red finally clears from my eyes, I cringe at his pained expression.

“I’m sorry, Tori,” he says, his tone resigned. 

Sighing heavily, I turn back around and sling my braids over my shoulder, too frustrated and mentally exhausted to say anything else.

Behind me, I sense his hesitation. “Do you want me to leave?” 

“No.” I shake my head, hating myself for being so weak for him. I can’t even bring myself to fight him when his arms come around me again, his fingers linking with mine and my words hang over us like a dark cloud. 

“I told you before. I’m here for you, T,” he whispers in my ear. “I’m not going anywhere. My focus will always be on you when we’re together.”

When we’re together. Not all the time, like a normal relationship should be. It’s no coincidence that we’ve been seeing each other less and less lately, and I know it’s because of her pregnancy. The entire thing is so draining. I know I should walk away, I do. But this man has me wrapped around his finger and I really don’t want him to let me go.

He moves his hands to my breasts as he brushes his mouth over my neck, his beard tickling my skin. “You went off on me again. I warned you about that,” he growls. “I guess you want me to fuck that attitude outta you...again.”

“Fuck you,” I growl back, biting my lip as his bulge throbs against my behind. He lifts the back of my dashiki with enough force to cause friction against my skin. He groans when he finds nothing but my waist beads and smacks my bare ass in appreciation. I moan with him.

“I want my pussy, Tori. Give it to me,” he demands, pulling off his t-shirt. 

My response is immediate. “Take it Daddy, it’s yours.”

“All mine?”

And just like that, Caleb and Tracee no longer exist. “Uh huh,” I gasp, grinding back on his erection as proof. He tugs my dashiki over my head and lets it drop to the ground. His hands creep down between my legs, palming my sex as I moan again. 

“Mmm, drippin' for Daddy as usual. I love how wet you get when you’re pissed off.”

My pussy ripples against his fingers rubbing up and down the moist folds, spreading my essence all over his hand. I hear his shorts drop. He then groans deeply as he uses my wetness to lube his shaft. My loins clench at the neediness in his voice, and at the lewd sound of him stroking himself behind me. He bends me over the railing and rubs his tip along my opening. With a handful of my ass cheek in his other hand, he pushes all the way inside me, meeting my hilt. He pumps into me with slow, deep, deliberate thrusts, claiming me, making me his. I squeeze the railing with a death grip as my eyes water. I feel like my breath is being stolen away, the sensation made even hotter as we're stark naked and out in the open air.

“Unnnnhh…” I can’t help but whine. He's so big and he feels so good.

He rewards me with a wet kiss on my neck. "That's it, baby, watch this beautiful sunset while I fuck my pussy." He gathers my braids in his fist and pulls my head back as he pipes me down with that amazing dick, his powerful thighs colliding with the flesh of my ass. "Hmm. Good girl. Such a good baby girl."

I love the dick. That’s it. I’m definitely not in love with its owner. Because I already love another man, and it’s impossible to love two men at the same time.

Right?

————----

Roman’s POV

My body is stirred awake by the intense, pleasurable sensation in my groin area. Morning head is goated, especially when done right. And Tori gets it so fucking right. I love how she can’t get enough of me. It helps that I just had a nice dream in which she was throwing that fat ass back on me on a private beach in the Maldives. We need to go back some other time, it was great.

“Mmm, damn, T, don’t stop,” I rumble, my eyes remaining shut as pleasure takes over. Her mouth is all the way down my dick, sucking my meat off the bone and it feels so damn good.

“I won’t, Daddy.”

Hold up.

That is not the T I’m expecting. 

My eyes fly open at the familiar voice. Sure enough, there lies my wife between my legs, deep-throating my cock. I forgot that I’m back home and not in L.A. where I last left Tori. I don’t expect to soften because I’m already so close. To her credit, Tracee is going off on me in a way she never has before. She’s doing all the right things, spitting on my dick and licking it all up, taking every inch of me down her throat while squeezing my balls. I didn’t expect this from her at all. She’s even looking at me while sucking me off, something she never does unless I make her.

I’m up on my hands now, fully sitting, my breathing out of control as she sucks and strokes me harder. “Fuck, oh my god,” I’m about to come, and come real hard. I grab the back of her head and buck my hips, fucking her warm mouth and fucking it hard. My head rocks backwards as I release all my load down her throat with an elated moan. She swallows every drop and proceeds to lick me clean with her tongue before releasing my dick.

Goddamn.

“You okay?” Tracee asks, watching my chest rise and fall.

I swallow, attempting to wet my dry throat. “Yeah, just caught off-guard,” I admit. “That was unexpected, in a good way, of course. You’ve never done that before.”

Tracee smiles. “Glad you liked it. I had a great teacher.” She plays a video on her phone and raises it up to my face. 

It’s a closeup of Tori with my dick in her mouth.

I made that recording last month when we were in Saudi Arabia for Crown Jewel and I thought I had deleted it. Immediately I try to deny it’s me, but Tracee knows exactly what my cock looks like. Also the tribal tattoos on the hand grabbing Tori’s hair give me away. More embarrassingly, the sound of my voice, praising her and urging her on between moans, rings loudly around the bedroom, making me cringe. Before I can lunge for the phone, Tracee has already scooted out of my reach, climbing off the bed as she glowers at me.

“Took me quite a while to hack into your phone, but I did it,” she informs me. “Airdropped all your shit. The dick pics, her naked selfies, the nasty ass videos.” She shakes her head, her smile cold and vindictive. “Given your track record, I always suspected you were fucking around on me, even before we got married. I confirmed it at that charity gala back in August. You and that tramp made googly eyes at each other all night. On top of that, she smelled exactly like you do whenever you come home. How old is that girl, Roman? She is at least ten years younger than you, you dirty, nasty fuck!"

Nine, actually. But I stay silent, allowing her to vent. Let her get it out of her system so we can move forward with this.

“Oh, and lest I forget, she’s married!” Tracee continues. “I wonder what her husband will think about all of this. Unless he knows and ain’t saying shit. He screams ‘doormat’, so that won’t surprise me. But what is it with you and cheating, huh? You cheated on the last bitch before me, too. Does the thrill of destroying people’s lives turn you on? Does your fucktoy even know she's next? Maybe I should tell her-”

“Stop it, Tracee,” I cut her off. She’s crossing the line.

She laughs childishly at my warning. “Let me guess, you told her you love her, too. Have you filled her head with that bullshit like you did with me? Answer me, Roman. Do you love her? Or is it all about the young nubile pussy I don’t have anymore?”

I swear the answer is on the tip of my tongue. That I don’t love Tori. That this is just a phase I’ll soon get over. But all that comes out of my mouth after several uncomfortable seconds is, “I don’t know.”

Tracee gapes at me in complete disbelief. “You don’t know,” she repeats, letting out a bitter, mirthless laugh. “You know, you are an absolute piece of work. I’m six fucking months pregnant with your kid and you’re fucking another bitch when you should be home with me, taking care of me! Tryna eat your cake and have it! Grow the fuck up, Roman, and face your responsibilities!”

Tracee and I are not perfect, even though I constantly tried to convince her that I was. We both have quirks but we always picked up where the other was a little weaker. But now she has seen through all of the BS and has realized I’ve been the weak one all along. I won’t lie, it dents my ego.

“Oh, and if you think I’m divorcing you so you can run off with your little slut, you got another thing coming,” my wife says matter-of-factly. “Unlike you, I’m not a quitter, and I refuse to raise my child in a single parent home. You have until tonight to end it with your whore, or I post everything I have online, and your fans will finally see you and your side bitch for the lying, cheating scumbags y’all are.”

The look in her eyes tells me there is no room for negotiation. Not that I ever expected one. She pats the top of my head like I’m her pet and walks away. “Good luck, sweetie.”

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

Tori’s POV

It’s barely eight in the morning, but it already feels like the worst day of my life.

My hands are shaking, my eyes are blurry with tears as I stare at my phone, terrified, watching my life flash before my eyes with every number that ticks by. My doomsday is finally here, and it’s been coming. If it’s what I think it is, how the fuck am I going to break this to Caleb?

The knock on my door startles me so bad I almost hit the roof of my apartment. Composing myself, I go over to the door and it’s the absolute last person I want to see right now. I try to hide.

“T, open up! I know you’re in there!”

Of course he sees me. He knows about the faulty peephole on the door. He also sounds deadly serious. Reluctantly, I open the door and cross my arms. I eye down my lover, inwardly chastising the stirring in my loins. His gray sweatpants and tank top show off everything that needs to be shown off. But his grim expression warns me that he’s not here for sexy time. This is more apparent when he storms past me without even a greeting.

“Are you alright?” I ask him, watching him pace around my living room like a madman. Something is up.

“Tracee knows,” is all he says.

Shit. “Bianca?” I’m gonna beat that bitch’s ass.

“No. She said she’s known since Summerslam.” He looks at me. I can tell he hasn’t slept well in a while. He doesn't sleep as well without me. “I just wanted to let you know to brace yourself. Maybe clue up your husband too. She is coming after me with all guns blazing and it’s not going to be pretty.” 

Fuck! Caleb will hang me out to dry the minute he finds out, and it’s going to destroy me. But I’m Tori motherfucking Milan. I’m the champ, the best female wrestler in the world, and nobody threatens me. “I can handle myself, homie. You tell your wife to calm her ass down.”

“I think we're way past that now.” He pauses, glancing down for a second before looking back at me. “She asked me if I loved you.”

I smirk and roll my eyes. “I bet she did.”

“I said I don’t know.”

I almost fall over in shock. “What the fuck! Why would you say that?”

“I didn’t want to lie to her. I’ve already lied enough as it is.”

“Lie? What do you mean, lie?” My heart is pounding. Is he saying what I think he’s saying? “Now is not the time to be a fucking mute, Reigns, answer me!”

“I may have caught feelings, okay?” he blurts out, his expression utterly helpless. “It stopped being about the sex a long time ago. I just like being around you, being there for you. You make me feel good, T, and not just sexually, ya know. You understand me, you care about me, we have a connection that feels way deeper than just sex.” He stops himself, as if realizing he’s said too much. He bows his head, raking his fingers through his disheveled hair. “It’s okay if you don't feel the same. I’m the one who fucked up and crossed the line.”

“I caught feelings too,” I confess, and his eyes soften, “But it doesn’t matter. It can’t matter. Not when we’re both married and she’s about to have your baby...”

Baby...

Oh shit!

Right on cue, the timer goes off on my phone. I flash a panicked glance Roman’s way. 

Oh god.

Shutting off the alarm, my legs feel like jelly as I sidle over to the kitchen table. I feel Roman close behind me, wondering what’s going on. My hands are shaking and my heart pounds as I pick up the white stick, moments away from changing my life, forever. Taking a deep, shaky breath, I slowly open my eyes, locking on the words that stare back at me. Wordlessly, I show Roman the result. 

Not pregnant.

“Jesus,” he breathes, wiping his brow.

I shouldn’t be offended by his sigh of relief, but I am. “Yeah, close call, right? You don’t gotta deal with me anymore than you have to,” I gripe.

“Don’t be like that. If you were pregnant, I’da taken care of you and my baby, no questions asked.”

“It coulda been Caleb’s.”

Roman scoffs. “Please. The kid would definitely have been mine. I nut in you almost every time we fuck. You got some black magic in that pussy.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment? Cuz it sucked.” I take another deep breath. Honestly, I’m ecstatic. I’m not ready for motherhood. Not yet, not when I’m having the best year of my career. “We should end this, Roman. This right here is a wake up call,” I say, waving the negative test for emphasis.

“We should,” he agrees. I hate the way my heart sinks and my eyes sting, but it’s the truth.

“We’ve hurt a lot of people with our actions,” I soldier on, trying to talk sense into both of us.

He takes a step closer to me. “We have. But the person I hurt the most is you.”

He is the most unserious motherfucker in the world, saying all of this while staring me down with the hungriest expression. “Roman, please don’t look at me like that,” I beg. 

“Like how?” He tugs me into his arms.

“Like you wanna eat me.”

I should have reassessed my words, because his eyes grow even darker. “Baby girl, you don’t know the half of it,” he whispers, caressing the side of my face as he gazes deep into my eyes. He kisses my cheek, breathing me in, and then, my lips. I melt into nothingness. He grabs the back of my neck and deepens the kiss with his tongue swirling with mine, and I’m taken back in time to our very first kiss, on the hospital’s rooftop, filled with promises we knew would be broken, but choosing to dive in anyway. It was just like this - hot and devouring and passionate, like we are each other’s oxygen and we’re dying to breathe. 

A sudden realization has me reeling, causing my hands to trail up his muscular shoulders and then settle on his handsome face, holding onto him for dear life.

Roman Reigns is my oxygen. I can't breathe without him.

He pulls away from me, holding my gaze with his dark eyes. “You’re so fuckin' beautiful,” he mumbles, giving me a softer kiss that curls my toes.

“You were right. I shoulda been with you from the jump, all those years ago. I blew it, and now here I am, married to someone that's not you, having a baby with someone that's not you. I know I should try to be better with Tracee and be happy with her." He swallows hard and his chin quivers. The badass Undisputed Heavyweight Champion, right now, he is not. "But I love you. I'm in love with you and I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my entire life. But I can't have you and it's my fault and I have to live with it.”

“Roman…” The tears I've been fighting back fall. He’s killing me. I am so weak right now. 

His voice is small and soft and heartbreaking as he clings to me, almost as if I’m his lifeline. “Teach me how to resist you, Tori,” he implores me. “Teach me, please. I’ve tried and failed a hundred times already.”

We’re in the same boat then, because I don’t know how to resist him. I’m caught up in so much emotion and it’s overwhelming. “I love you too. But we have to stop. It’s the right thing to do,” I choke out one more time, unconvincing even to my own ears.

Roman chuckles, the sound weighty with defeat. “I know. You right,” he assures me. His thumb brushes across my bottom lip, swollen from his kiss, and he smiles as I shiver. “I'll back off,” he promises, a defiant look in his eyes as he suddenly lifts me in his arms and carries me over to the sofa, “Tomorrow,” he adds with a growl.

I’m aware of the hole we’ve dug for ourselves, and if I’m going to get us out, I have to tell him "no" a little more firmly. I need to show a little more self control. Instead, I’m helping him undress and he's doing the same to me. I should be pushing him off, but I wrap my arms and legs around him and accept his branding kiss. Ending our affair may be the right thing, but nothing has ever felt as right to me as being in Roman’s arms. If this is indeed the last time I get to be with him, I plan on going out with a bang, literally.

We’ll do the right thing tomorrow, I guess.

THE END

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

Sorry it's so long! I hope you like it!

Please leave comments. I love comments!

Banner made by me. Credit to owners of the pics and gifs.

[msbigredmachine]

🤯🤯🤯

Hmmm…interesting Roman working on something!

😏😏😏

[msbigredmachine]

Power Couple: The Aftermath (Roman Reigns)

When the Tribal Chief falls, no one helps him back up better than you do. Set after the epic main event of Wrestlemania XL.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/OC

Warnings: Excess fluff and of course, smut.

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Yes, I'm still in my feelings, and there was only one pairing I could properly convey my feelings with, because this has also been their story all along. For new readers, I strongly suggest reading the first two one-shots before delving into this one. Hope you enjoy!

Banner made by me. Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs

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

1,316 days.

All wiped away with three slaps of the referee’s hand to the hard canvas.

Even after Cody rolled away from him, Roman could not move. Hell, he couldn’t breathe. Not when the air had been punched out of his lungs, literally and figuratively. It was only when Dwayne pulled him out of the ring by his pants leg that his body managed to kickstart itself into some sort of motion. And even then, all he could do was turn his head to look back and watch as Cody celebrated in the ring with his wife Brandi, holding his title belt aloft for the whole world to behold as the ultimate symbol of his victory. 

It should have been you and him up there. It should have been him. Again. But it wasn’t. Because the one time he got careless in battle, it cost him everything. Throwing years of hard work down the drain.

And it made him sick to his stomach.

The sound of ‘Kingdom’ blaring through the Lincoln Financial Field Stadium was torture to the former champion’s ears. His legs felt like lead as he dragged his battered body up the ramp, ignoring Dwayne’s baseless, performative complaints about nothing, as he put distance to the tableau of triumph of his opponent. The weight of this defeat was heavy, suffocating even, and he was desperate to get the fuck out of there, to get out of Philadelphia, out of Pennsylvania and all its environs. As he reached the top of the vast WrestleMania stage, pain surged through his abdomen, forcing him to recoil into himself and double over in pain. 

His Wise Man noticed his plight and paused to observe his charge. "My Tribal Chief, are you alright? Do you need-"

Roman shook his head. "I'm fine,” he snapped, willing himself to keep walking until he made it past the curtain. He leaned against the wall and bent over, resting his hands on his knees.

“What can I do, my Tribal Chief?” Paul implored.

“Just…get my wife on the bus and make sure everything’s ready to go. I’ll be there soon."

“Right away my Tribal Chief,” Paul replied eagerly, scurrying off to do as he was told.

It was a good long minute before Roman managed to pull himself back upright, staggering towards his locker room. Walking was so hard, his body hurt so much, but none of it hurt as much as the gut punch of failure. Much worse than any of the bumps he took was the shame, the disappointment engulfing him; so much so that he couldn’t bear to look anyone else in the eye right now.

Because he had failed everyone who cared about him.

He had failed you.

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

All good things come to an end. That’s how the saying goes, right? The interesting part of that was that on the surface, it was a throwaway little trope, harmless and benign, until something that meant a great deal to you got taken away in the blink of an eye, or in this case, a three-count. The moment the bell signaled the pinfall that confirmed your husband's time as the Undisputed WWE Universal Champion had come to an end, you knew he would never be the same again.

It wasn't unlike Roman to be a little on edge weeks before a big premium live event. And given the nature of the two main event matches he was locked in for the fortieth annual WrestleMania, you expected he would be grouchy. But this time around seemed different, and not in a good way. He’d been surly towards everybody, including you. He disappeared for hours working out obsessively. He’d even thrown out a female member of the press who had dared to boo him at the press conference on Saturday night. Now, despite the final match of the weekend concluding nearly an hour ago, Roman was yet to return to his tour bus. That only meant one thing; he was not taking this defeat well, and it was up to you to lift him up, like you always did.

When you found the door boasting your husband's name, Heyman was outside, pacing back and forth. The Undisputed title, which you had grown accustomed to seeing on his shoulders on behalf of his Tribal Chief, was missing; a stark, prickly reminder of the outcome of tonight’s proceedings. 

"That bad, huh?" you asked, reading the Wise Man’s expression in a second. In fact, he looked on the verge of tears, his shoulders sagging with despair. The weekend had taken an emotional toll on him, too.

"He won’t come out," he informed you, his usually confident voice shaky and helpless. “He won’t let anyone in and he won’t speak to anyone…”

You raised your index finger to cut him off. "Correction, he won’t speak to anyone that’s not me," you stated, shooting him a warm smile, one among countless others you had shared with him since burying the hatchet after years of friction between you. "Go be with your family, Paul. I’ll handle my husband.”

“He’s my family, too,” he declared softly, the conviction in what you used to call his beady eyes, palpable and heartbreaking, “Both of you are.”

Touched and at a loss for words, you could only look on as he turned around slowly and made the lonely walk down the hallway. Turning back to the locker room door, you sucked a breath between your teeth and blew it out, mentally preparing to confront this task head-on.

You knocked timidly and stuck your head inside. If Roman was in as foul a mood as Paul let on, even you did not want to be there. It had taken a few unfortunate incidents over the years for you to learn that even a kiss from his wife wasn't enough when he got too stressed. It never stopped you from trying, though. Kissing was one of your favorite things to do with him after all.

"Knock, knock," you called out softly, listening for signs of movement as you stepped inside and closed the door. The room that was bustling just a few hours ago was now stripped bare and cloaked in dead quiet. It was an eerie contrast to the majestic, sweeping grandiosity that encompassed his entrance to the ring tonight. “Babe?”

Venturing further inside the room, you found him on the couch, his strong, broad back to you, his shoulders slumped dejectedly. An open bottle of Jack Daniels sat on the coffee table in front of him. His ula fala was draped over the headrest, where his title belt would surely have been. 

This was the reality no one warned you about after a monumental loss. It plunged you into a cold, dark abyss, wrought with biting silence and dreary loneliness now that the show was over and the lights were no longer bright. The what ifs, buts and maybes crooning in your ear like a morbid symphony. It was an experience all too familiar to you unfortunately, and recently, too; you and your husband had traveled down this terrible road following the tragic miscarriage of your son in the summer of 2022.

Stepping in front of him, you wiggled into his personal space and made yourself at home on his lap. Gently wrapping your arms around him, you sighed with relief when he instantly melted into you and his huge arms enveloped your waist, holding on to you like his life depended on it. 

“My baby,” you cooed soothingly, the sound of your lips meeting the side of his head piercing through the emptiness of the locker room. “My love.” 

The audible hitch of his breath at your soft words was expected. In the course of your lifetime, those two little phrases had garnered a poignant significance. As words of comfort and solace first uttered by your mother when you were a child, you murmured those words regularly to Roman between sweet, playful kisses when he was courting you, basking in the bliss of newfound love, and again as part of your wedding vows as you became man and wife. They were the first words you whispered to Laleia the first time she was placed in your arms. They were the words that you had cried yourself to sleep with as you mourned the baby boy you had lost. You and Roman had seen each other at your absolute best and worst, and now, in the isolation of this room, with just the two of you and nobody else, this was another bad moment you had to overcome.

“On Matt’s birthday, too,” Roman finally spoke, wiping at his nose with a sniffle. “Fuck, man.”

“I know,” you replied, running your hand comfortingly up and down his upper arm. As he met your gaze at last, you saw that his eyes were bloodshot. Seeing him like this broke your heart afresh. You held him as close as possible, willing all his pain and his hurt into your soul, wanting nothing more than to take it all away.

"I fucked up," he breathed, his voice raw and choked with misery, "I fucked up out there, babe...I let Dwayne down...I let y'all down. I lost the title and I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what? Over thirteen hundred days as champion?" you countered, "Nine WrestleMania main events? Billions of dollars in revenue? A roof over your child's head and three square meals a day? One loss will never wipe any of that away, don't ever get it twisted."

He exhaled tiredly as he hugged you tighter, resting his head on your shoulder. "I really wish I felt that way right now," he mumbled.

"It'll take some time, but you will," you asserted, running his fingers through his loose hair before tugging it lightly, making him look at you again. "Roman, you changed the industry, just like you said you would when we started this. No one will ever, ever forget what you've done these past four years. Be proud of all of it. You've been through so much, you sacrificed too much to not be proud."

Roman nodded in understanding. He just wished he didn't feel so down. "Baby, I...I want you to know how sorry I am. I know how much you wanted this. And I've been such a dick to you lately-"

You kissed your teeth and waved his apology away. "Nah. That don't matter no more. And I don't care that you didn't win. All I care about is you being safe when you're out there. Being healthy for our family and our daughter, who will be very happy to have her Daddy home, by the way. So we took an L. Okay, we'll only come back stronger. We had one bad night. Guess what? I plan on giving you a better morning, if you know what I mean." You rounded off your words with a wink, your heart blooming when he chuckled in response. "See, there's that smile I love so much. Keep your head up, baby. You did so good tonight. I couldn't be more proud of you."

Roman leaned into you, his forehead pressed to yours, breathing you in and filling his head with your scent. It was like breathing fresh air. “I love you, Y/N. I love you with all of my heart. I don’t deserve you, I never have.”

The tears you'd been fighting all night resurfaced, but you blinked them away as you captured his lips with yours, your hand sliding over the back of his neck. He clung to you, a different emotion quickly overtaking him as he returned your kiss with a bit of aggression, his tongue whipping hungrily against yours, savoring your mouth as though he was tasting it for the very first time. You surrendered to his every whim, your other hand raking through his hair then caressing gently down to his chest, resting your palm over the spot where his heart pumped for you. You could feel how much he needed this moment of intimacy, and you had no qualms giving him anything he asked for.

With one quick tug of your legs, Roman had you straddling him on the couch, bringing you chest to chest with your lush backside resting on his growing bulge. He paused for a moment to take a deep breath, then sealed your mouths again, his tongue invading, probing, a moan rumbling in his chest when you matched his energy, the emotions take over this loving embrace. He could never get enough of you, of the passion that overwhelmed him by your mere presence, immersing him in a love and gratitude he would always feel for you no matter what state of mind he was in.

Eventually, you pulled away from each other, breathless, panting, lips glistening with each other’s saliva. His heart raced at the familiar gleam in your darkened eyes. You weren’t done with him, not just yet, and this was confirmed as you slowly slid off him and sank to your knees between his spread thighs, pushing the front of his shirt up to expose his newly honed six-pack abs.

“Do you know how fucking hot you looked tonight, Daddy?” you purred to him, leaning in to run your tongue over the ridges of muscle on his taut belly. “Last night? All week? Do you have any idea of all the nasty shit I’m gonna do to you on the bus?”

Roman’s dick jumped in his joggers as his imagination ran wild. He squirmed in his seat, his bottom lip slipping between his teeth as your tongue lapped at his belly, your mouth warm on his skin, all while you rubbed the fullness of his bulge straining eagerly against your touch. “Baby girl…” he choked out, as your fingers peeled the waistband of his pants, unveiling his big, beautiful brown dick. 

“Hmm, commando. I like it,” you commented with a smirk, curling your fist around his turgid length.

“Babe, wait…ain’t Paul outside?”

“I sent him home. Plus, won't be the first time he's seen me suck you off.” Your small hand massaged his blunt, plum-shaped head as you licked a trail along the underside of his dick, enjoying the gasps of pleasure that he made. Licking up the pre-cum that had gathered at the tip, your mouth opened wider to take him in. He stared you down with an intense look in his dark irises, which soon fluttered shut as your lips wrapped tight around his flesh, his stomach tensing as he felt himself slide deeper inside. “Awww, fuuuck,” he moaned.

Pulling back for a second, you held his lust-filled stare and stroked his dick a little harder, giggling when it twitched in your grip. A defiant look clouded your eyes as you licked at his tip before pushing him back into your mouth. It was enough for him to nut by just watching you, the visual of your lips sliding slowly up and down his length, that sexy mouth of yours making sweet love to his dick. It felt so good that he sank further into the plush leather of the couch, his head rolling back lazily against the headrest, his toes curling inside his brand new Air Reigns sneakers. All the pain and punishment his body had endured tonight melted away and was replaced with much more pleasurable sensations.

“I love the way you suck my dick, wifey,” he praised you, forcing himself to observe you through his barely open eyelids. “Mmm, that slutty little mouth is warm as fuck…You so sexy, baby, keep lookin’ up at me like that...” 

His raspy growls had you glancing back up at him, batting your pretty eyelashes as you sucked him off. Wetness pooled between your thighs at his famished expression. Completely aroused, you picked up the pace as your hands and your mouth worked in tandem, sucking and stroking his dick, pleasuring him from tip to base. His breathing became heavier as he throbbed against your tongue, his hands finding the back of your head as he got lost in the paradise of your warm, wet mouth. 

“Damn, baby. I bet that pussy leakin’ for me right now. You gettin’ wet sucking Daddy off, beautiful?” he taunted, his tongue swishing over his bottom lip at the same time your tongue swirled around the base of his shaft. The little moan that escaped your throat told him he was right. Of course he was; he knew his wife better than anybody else. “Good girl. Keep goin', I want that pussy extra wet. I’ma lick all that shit up when we get on the bus.”

With another soft moan, you crawled closer to his body and bore down on him, bobbing your head up and down that long, fat cock. Scooping your hair up into his large fist for leverage, Roman rocked his hips upwards from his seated position, thrusting in and out of your mouth. You relaxed your throat to take him deeper, moaning around his dick and letting him know how much you were enjoying him fucking your face. You rolled his balls in your hand, caressing the heavy, tightened sac to send him over the edge. It was working, as he began thrusting faster, his husky groans of pleasure amplifying as he neared his release.

“Unnnhh, baby, here it comes…Fuck, open your mouth,” he gasped, not waiting for you to do so as he yanked you by your hair to free himself from your intoxicating mouth. You quickly opened wide as he grabbed his cock and jerked it desperately against your tongue. He caught sight of the glazed-over quality of your gaze, and he knew that your panties were completely ruined, your pussy dripping with your need for him. He planned to take care of that very soon.

It was a show more spectacular than Mania, the sight of his gorgeous face contorted with pleasure, his head thrown back, eyes rolled to the heavens as his orgasm washed over his big body. Your moans harmonized together with each spasm of his cum down your throat, making you swallow every drop he unleashed. His grip on your hair was tight and almost painful, but you were turned on anyway, aroused by the knowledge that no one brought him to this state of paramount pleasure like you did. Licking your lips, you scooped him back into your mouth to clean him up, released him with a soft pop when you finished, and tucked him back inside the confines of his joggers. You giggled as he stared dazedly at the ceiling, licking his lips to catch his breath, his big frame slack and helpless as he recovered from the intense orgasm.

"Goddamn, baby...Shit," he groaned.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you stood up and sat back on his lap, welcoming the gentle press of his mouth to yours in a sweet, grateful kiss. “You feel better, Daddy?” you asked.

"Much better. I needed that so much. Thanks, baby," he smiled up at you, his stomach doing flips as you smiled back. He truly was the luckiest man in the world.

“Mm-hmm. Luckily, there’s more where that came from,” you assured him with another kiss before getting to your feet and pulling him up to his. “Come on, Daddy. Let's go home. We got a toddler to take care of. We'll figure out all the other stuff when it's time."

He nodded in agreement and squeezed your hand. “Okay, baby. Home it is.”

A new chapter in your story had been opened tonight, and the path ahead seemed uncertain and even scary. But you both took pride in the fact that as long as you kept writing it together, your love story was going to remain as beautiful as it already was.

But make no mistake about it; Roman Reigns was going to rule the wrestling world again. That was one story that was never going to end.

THE END

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

Thoughts? How sappy was this😢Was quite cathartic for me, loved writing it.

Thank you all so much for reading and commenting!

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[msbigredmachine]

This is still so surreal.

Tribal Heir

Right Hand man

Missing one piece