@ nica (she/her) ✩ 19 . ꗃ﹕ ୭ 🐇✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀
220 posts
Prettybitxhnica - Nica - Tumblr Blog
Happy 33rd Birthday Leigh-Anne Pinnock Gray
♎️
@mtvuk: Happy birthday to thee it girl, fashion icon, mother, multitalented queen that is Mrs @leighannepinnock 💛🎂
God is available to you right now in prayer and the Bible. You don’t need to “convert” to anything or rely on institutions to have a relationship with God. That is the beauty of what Jesus did on the cross—He is the final High Priest, through whom you can have an intimate, personal connection with the Father. There is no longer anything in between you and God.
You can talk to God in prayer, and He will talk to you through the Bible.
Jesus, guide me with Your love and truth. Amen 🖤
Say this out loud… God is my Provider today, tomorrow, and forever.
anything 4 selenas.
ate that shit uppp! 😩👏🏾👏🏾
through your eyes + au future
a/n: well, here i am, once again, with some smut for the hoes. 😭
masterlist
words: 2.7k // warnings: roman gets jealous and reminds solana who she belongs to. smuttttt. daddy kink. roman being mean.
The car ride is absolutely silent. The only sound coming from the auditory, muffled noises of city sounds that sneak past the closed windows and serve as a light backdrop against the void of conversation.
Solana glances over at Roman and nearly melts into the seat. His knuckles are practically white with how tight he’s gripping the steering wheel. His chiseled, bearded jaw is clenched just as tight, and the tension—and anger—is radiating off of him.
He’s livid.
“Roman, I—”
“Shut up.”
And like a child who’s just been scolded for bad behavior, Solana does just that. She knows this tone of voice. Has seen it used with others, but never on her. Not until this moment. And it sucks.
But, it’s also….also something else.
It’s annoying.
She’s annoyed.
Roman has more or less ignored her for almost a week, and now wants to be upset with her? She gets why, but still. Maybe if he was around and actually had time for her, she never would have ended up in this mess in the first place.
It’s immature reasoning, almost. She recognizes this. But, it’s just how she feels.
And it’s better and easier for her to feel and think about that vs just how damn good Roman looks right now, even if he is at level 10. He still looks good. Too good.
Roman remains silent for the duration of the ride as Solana focuses on the passing scenery vs the man next to her who has her thinking inappropriate thoughts given the situation they’re in.
And when they pull into the private parking garage of his penthouse, she’s barely able to unbuckle her seatbelt before Roman angrily opens his door and slams it shut with so much force that she winces. But before that can even be processed, he’s ripping her door open as well and yanking her out the car.
His grip on her forearm is firm, borderline uncomfortable. “Roman, you’re—”
“I said shut up.”
It’s the same tone as before, but instead of feeling embarrassed like before, she only gets more annoyed as he practically drags her into his place, Solana praying she doesn’t twist her ankle having to walk so fast in her heels.
She manages to stay quiet until they’re in the privacy of Roman’s penthouse as he once again slams the door shut with unnecessary force.
Kicking off her heels almost immediately, she heads for his kitchen, needing a bottle of water. “You don’t have to be such a dick,” she mutters. Somewhat to herself. Somewhat to him. Solana opens the fridge and grabs a cold thing of water, barely standing back up before the door is forced shut with an intensity that makes her jump away, her ass hitting the counter and bottle tumbling into the floor.
“What—”
“What the fuck is wrong with you!”
Roman is standing before her, eyes burning with all the anger coursing through his big body, his tone comprised of unadulterated anger, voice bouncing off the walls.
Solana isn’t sure just how to respond. Nothing she says is going to make him feel better. It’s a lose–lose situation. “You need to calm—”
He smiles, but there’s not an ounce of humor in his expression or voice. Eyes closed, he tilts his head back, warning almost, “I swear to God, if this wasn’t you….” He trails off, and she’s not sure she wants to know the rest of the statement. “What the fuck were you thinking, Solana?”
Again, that chastised child feeling returns as she shrugs, murmuring, “it was just a party—”
Roman reaches past her and swipes his arm clean across the counter behind her, sending random shit flying to the floor.
“It wasn’t just a fucking party!” He snaps, and she leans further back into the fridge, hating how her eyes seem to be focused not on the fact that he’s yelling at her but how good he looks despite the anger, how good he smells being this close to her. God, she missed that. Missed him. Not this, obviously. But, everything else….yeah. “You were at fucking Kingdom, Solana. You know that’s Nightmare territory!”
Solana knew that. Knew it the moment Jaida brought up the idea of attending a costume party at some club. She recognized right away from the name alone that not only was it in Nightmare territory but that it was owned by Cody Rhodes himself. None of that was or is news to her.
And yet, she still pulled out her skimpy little costume and went outside, shaking and throwing ass on video with her cousin like she wasn’t playing with an absolute inferno.
An inferno she’s completely engulfed in right now. “I didn’t think—”
“Of course, you didn’t fucking think because if you did, you wouldn’t have been stupid enough to put yourself in that situation—”
“I made a mistake, Roman, okay?” She cuts him off, taking the opportunity to jump in given the fact that his volume has decreased ever so slightly. “I—”
“And then what the fuck is this outfit?” He motions to her costume, and Solana finds herself frowning.
“What—what’s wrong with it?” It’s a stupid question, maybe even a form of gaslighting, because she knows exactly why he takes issue with the outfit that practically has her ass hanging out and her cleavage on full display.
To his credit, Roman maintains the lowered volume, gritting out. “It brings attention to you. To your body.” She watches the way his muscles flex as he brings his arm above her, hand planted on the refrigerator. “Why do you think Rhodes came up to you, huh? Cause he liked your fuckin’ hair?”
Solana is feeling way too bold for someone in the wrong as she rolls her eyes, looks down at her feet, toes painted white, and murmurs, “at least someone’s giving me attention.”
It’s the absolute worst thing she could have said in this moment. If this was the titanic, her freudian slip was the absolute mega fucking iceberg. She knows it the second Roman’s volume levels down to dangerously quiet with the delivery of his next question.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
Looking away, she barely has time to process the severity of her slip-up when his hand jerks her by her chin, forcing her gaze back on him. “I asked you a question.”
If there was ever a time for an apology tour, this would be it. The time to get on her hands and knees and beg for much needed forgiveness, but that’s logic, that’s reason, that’s sensical. And there’s nothing logical or sensical about the way she’s feeling right now. Roman being so close to her is no good. It’s no good for a lot of reasons, because instead of being present for this very serious conversation, she’s thinking about the last time he’s been just mere inches away from her. The last time he’s been inside of her.
Too long.
It’s why she finds herself answering straight from her Id. “I said at least he noticed me.” Solana digs that grave just a lil deeper, adding. “You’ve—you’ve been back a week and haven’t come to see me.”
Saying it aloud is the recognition and acknowledgment of the uncomfortable truth Solana now realizes is the basis behind all of this. She’s never been one to need attention from men, to feel the need to be around her significant other more often than not.
And then entered Roman Reigns. Everything about their relationship has been so fast and new and unexpected and raw. She craves him in a way she’s never experienced with any other man.
Not even Cruz.
Because Roman has been traveling a lot the past few weeks, his latest trip to Italy to handle some Cosa Nostra matters and yet, he hasn’t carved out the time to come see her in the almost week he’s been back. Something that’s evidently been bothering her.
And that recognition clearly isn’t something that’s just now become apparent to her.
It’s clear to Roman as well too.
Because in a matter of seconds she goes from peering up at him with those big brown eyes of hers to being spun around and pressed into the cool stainless steel of his fridge. “What—”
“Shut up.”
This is the third time he’s said as such to her tonight, and on this tres time, she’s had just about enough. “Stop—”
Solana is silenced and cries out when his hand comes down, hard, on her ass.
“I said shut up,” he reiterates, adding on as he palms her cheeks. “Daddy’s talking.” That should not make her moan the way it does, especially when he moves his mouth to her ear. “How many times do I have to fucking tell you?” She gasps when he spanks her ass once again, squeezing it this time in a way that has her biting down on her bottom lip. “You belong to me. Not him. Me.”
Solana feels her anticipation—and pussy growing wetter—as Roman starts trying to yank her shorts off. “I’ll kill him. Fucking rip him apart with my bare hands.” She winces when he gets the shorts off, somehow managing to rip them clean off her body. “Start a whole war. I don’t care.” Her soaked underwear, big surprise there, is the next thing to go. Solana would give anything to see the look on Roman’s face as he brings his hand to her cunt, cupping it, feeling her drenched and dripping. “Look how wet you are from me. How I got this pussy dripping just from my voice.” Roman tugs her head back and kisses the perimeter of her face. “You think that bleached bitch could do you like I can?” The answer is already no, but it’s a hell no when she feels his erection pressed against her ass. “No. No one can fuck you like daddy can.”
He’s not lying, and Solana finds the excitement building in hearing some shuffling behind her, a belt unbuckling, clothes shifting. And she nearly comes right then and there feeling his thick dick head rub up and down her slit.
He’s teasing her, and it’s miserable. Solana tries to scoot her ass back against him, not beyond begging, “p–please.”
Roman chuckles against her ear, hissing when he teases the tip of his dick in her tight, gushy opening. “Please what?”
He’s so cruel. So so so cruel. “P-please, daddy.”
“That’s my good girl.”
Solana shouts when he slams into her, the intensity and stretch of him having her claw the cool steel in front of her. His thrusts are hard and deep, nothing slow and gentle like she expected their first time to be after so long. Something she was hoping for given his size, but that’s not what she gets.
Not when she’s been so bad.
And truthfully….it’s not what she wants. Not now, at least. Not when he’s fucking her like this, so rough and thorough. It’s delicious.
Solana’s moans grow louder with each time he slams his hips up against her fat ass, fucking her like the little brat she’s been.
“You like making daddy angry like this, don’t you?” Solana whimpers as the force of his thrusts continue to push the side of her face into the fridge, her makeup smudging off from the combination of the light sheen of sweat and the impact. “Like me fucking you like this, huh?”
“Y–yes, daddy.” Tears are building in her eyes when Roman somehow pulls her body against his, his thick dick never once slipping out as he switches their positions so that she’s bent over his kitchen island, face now pressed into the granite counter while he slams into her. “Roman!”
“You was missing this dick, wasn’t you?” He taunts, hand on the back of her head, holding her still as he reminds her who she belongs to. “This what you been wanting? Daddy to pound this little pussy with his big dick?”
Her palms are pushed into the stone, her mind absolutely numb and illogical as he switches his angle, somehow even deeper in her. “Oh, shit. Y–yes, baby.”
Roman leans over her, and she’s practically sobbing at this point. He’s slamming nearly repeatedly against her g-spot, driving her to the brink of sexual madness. “Been missing you too, baby.” He groans, slowing down just a bit to kiss on the side of her face. “Fuck, you don’t know how much I missed you while I was gone. Missed being inside you like this.” Roman straightens up and spreads her ass cheeks a bit, moaning at the sight of his dick sliding in and out of her wet ass pussy. Doesn’t matter how many times he stretches her out, her shit grips him the same every time. Tight and needy. “Goddamn, look how wet you are. Shit dripping on the damn floor.”
That visual shouldn’t make her cunt pulse the way it does, the two of them moaning almost in synchronization. “Daddy’s sorry for leaving you like this.”
His verbal apology is appreciated, but his dick absolutely destroying her used and abused pussy is all the contrition she needs.
Roman grabs her by her hair once again and leans over, resuming his relentless and brutal assault against her spot, that depth and angle having her seeing stars, angels, and everything else ethereal and heavenly. “You’re mine. You understand me?” He growls, voice dark and determined. Solana both hates and loves this. Loves how he can so easily slide back and forth between being almost loving to that possessive, borderline obsessive side that she secretly gets off to. “You ain’t ever leaving me. It’s us till the end, baby.”
Truer words have never been spoken.
As is with most sexual encounters between them, Solana’s orgasm is the first to come upon her. That wonderfully blissful, euphoric feeling that never could and will never get old. She moans against the counter, whimpering, “Roman, I’m—oh my God.” It should be a sin how good he fucks her, how good he makes her feel, sexually and in every other way.
He’s most definitely right.
It’s them to the end.
Roman is knowing, feeling the way she’s starting to clench around him. “You gon’ let me come inside you?” He asks, already knowing the answer. The same as it always is.
“Y–yes, daddy.”
He slaps her ass. “Damn right.” Plunging into her at that altered pace to account for her pending climax, he reminds. “Daddy always comes inside his pussy.”
Another truth that she can’t and won’t deny. Another secret love. Kink, even. The feel of him exploding inside her, filling her to the brim with his cum. It just does something to her. Something she can’t explain.
And that’s the exact same experience she has when their orgasms arrive upon them both with merely minutes apart. She’s the first, of course, followed by Roman. His body is hovered above hers, his mouth pressing kisses against her temple as they both come down from that delicious high.
Well, he does, because Solana groans a bit when he slides out of her and picks her up bridal style, carrying her to his room. Roman carefully lays her on the bed, completely uncaring of the mess she’s made all over his dick or the fact that her entire bottom half is soaked, his cum leaking from her puffy pussy.
He lays down next to her, pulling her close to him.
Solana sighs, so content in this single moment. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs into his chest, finger lazily tracing some of the patterns of his tribal tattoos.
Roman kisses her forehead. “I just need you to be more careful, alright?” She nods against him. “I can’t ever lose you, Solana…”
“I know, baby.” She kisses his shoulder. “I will.” Eyes closing, they lay in absolute silence for a good few minutes. Her eyes start to flutter shut, Solana prepared to drift off into a peaceful sleep when Roman’s deep voice cuts into the silence.
“You don’t think we done, do you?” Looking up with all the confusion, she watches as he shifts them so that she’s no longer laying on his chest but just on her side. Roman sits up against the headboard. “You wanted daddy’s attention. Well, now you got it.” Her mouth waters as he starts stroking his still semi hard dick. This man is inhuman sometimes with his stamina. “Take the rest of them clothes off, get up here, and throw that fat ass back on daddy’s dick like you was doing in them videos.”
FLO MILLI at the 2024 VMAs
posting my edits until my birthday (october 19!!!)
"First, I would like to thank everyone who supported me.🙏🌹
This is my new platform, friends, after my old platform was deleted for reasons unknown to me.
I ask for your help in sharing my story again to keep hope alive for me and my family, friends.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart.♥️
My family and I appreciate your cooperation and hope to reach the desired goal and save us.🙏
Attached are the verification links for the old account from the supporters.
Link vetted by @ibtisams
Link vetted by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi
Link vetted by @sar-soor
My approved number by the families in need and endorsed by the supervisors is 196."
@90-ghost @ibtisams @nabulsi @aces-and-angels @sar-soor @sayruq @fairuzfan @palestinegenocide @vakarians-babe @northgazaupdates @northgazaupdates2
Trapped Family in Gaza Appeals for Help to Survive 🕊️🇵🇸🙏
I Samer Abu Ras, am reaching out to you with a heartfelt humanitarian appeal, after the ongoing war in Gaza has cast its dark shadow over my life and the lives of my family. Our lives were once filled with peace and stability before the onset of this catastrophe, but now, we find ourselves living in a situation described as nothing short of tragic.
Please note that the conversion rate is 1 USD =10 SEK
10$ = 100 SEK
50$= 500 SEK
100$= 1000 SEK
200$= 2000 SEK
My wife, Shurooq, our three children, and I are now homeless, without a source of income, and without hope for the future. My family and I have lost our businesses and our home due to the war, and we now have nothing left but the cold streets and troubled hearts.
My children are suffering greatly as a result of these horrific events. They have lost the security and stability they once enjoyed and are now facing new health and psychological challenges that threaten their lives. As a father and husband, I feel powerless in my ability to provide adequate protection and care for them.
My child, who is a year and a half old, is experiencing hardships far beyond his tender age. Since the war broke out, we had to flee our home and seek refuge in a tent in a displacement camp. My child lives in extremely difficult conditions, deprived of safety and stability. The tent does not provide adequate protection from harsh weather, and food and medicine are scarce. My child suffers from malnutrition and illness, lacking basic healthcare. He cannot play or grow in a healthy and suitable environment. My only dream is to see him grow up in a safe place full of opportunities
In the face of difficult circumstances, Samer Abu Ras and his family find themselves facing serious challenges in their daily lives. They reside in a modest tent lacking comfort and security, suffering from a shortage of clean water and food, and encountering difficulties in accessing necessary healthcare. Despite these challenges, they continue to express hope and resilience in confronting adversity, holding onto hope for a better tomorrow and a return to a more stable and secure life.
I appeal to you today, dear friends, to extend to me a helping hand in escaping this hell. Regardless of the size of the donation, every drop of generosity will contribute to alleviating our suffering and rebuilding our lives anew.
We need your help to secure the funds necessary to travel away from these destructive wars and seek a safe and stable environment where we can build a better future for our children
Let us stand together in these difficult times and let hope triumph over despair by providing support and assistance to those in dire need. Let us be part of the solution and build a better future for ourselves and future generations.
Thank you for listening and for the potential generosity of your giving, and for your generous donations that will change the lives of my family for the better.
With sincere gratitude and appreciation
Samer Abu Ras and family.
https://gofund.me/a1d1a50c
Hello,
my name is Osama Thaer, Palestine - Gaza Strip, I was living happily before the war, I have a younger sister. I was going to school, living my daily life normally, playing football because I love it, but now the war has prevailed and succeeded in everything in the past, and now our life has become hell. I am here asking for your support and compassion. Our family is facing imminent danger every day, please consider our GoFundMe to help us escape this horrific situation with our beloved one safe.
Of course🫶🏼🙏🏽
https://gofund.me/a1d1a50c
i need a cowboy!roman au asap
according to jeremiah 29:11, God says that he knows the plans he has for us. he says that he has plans to prosper us and not harm us. so if that relationship isn't working out, it's okay. if that job isn't right for you, it's okay. if that friendship ends, it's okay. because me personally, i’ve never seen God remove something from my life without replacing it with something far much greater than before.
through your eyes + au future
a/n: i had this idea and needed to write it. it's a bit into the future, much past where i currently am, so feel free to skip. i'm still posting the next part later this evening, but i just needed to get this out of my head and figured i'd share lol
*gif courtesy of google*
words: 1.6k // warnings: solana is sad, roman is pissed, and their families ain't shit
taglist: @fearlesschimera @sayyestoheav3nn @annfg8 @cyberdejos2 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @trentybenty @empressdede @tshepisho @southerngirl41 @callmekayd
Solana should have listened to Roman.
Should have known better than to ever think this was a good idea.
To think that they could have both of their families in the same vicinity and everything would go fine. Granted, the type of division she was expecting has been relatively tame. There hasn’t been any violence, largely due and thanks to the weapon deposit bins by the entrance.
Weapon free establishment and all.
Yet, she’s not naive enough to think that the lack of guns, knives, and other unmentionables could stop her or Roman’s family from throwing down if they wanted. But, they haven’t. No punches have been thrown nor bones broken. It’s been more of a clear separation. Roman’s family only interacts with each other, and her family interacts with each other.
Not the kind of cohesion she was hoping for but a much better alternative than what it could be.
But, while conflict and violence between the in-laws has, so far, been avoided. There’s still another major issue that has Solana locked in one of the back rooms, sitting on a random chair, crying her eyes out.
The bullying.
Towards her.
Towards Roman.
Towards their baby.
It started out light, Solana having to politely shut down a near fight between her brother and Roman.
Wes lifted the beer to his lips, eyeing Roman. “So, how many people have you killed today, Reigns?”
“Wesley!” Solana’s sharp use of his name was conjoined with a disapproving expression. He’s too old for the petty jabs.
Roman, however, simply smiled coldly, scratching his beard as he delivered a chilling warning. “So far none, but you keep fucking talking, and I can change that real fast.”
Thankfully, Solana was able to de-escalate, her sister-in-law, Hazel, prying Wes away before any violence could commence.
Then there was the conversation Solana unintentionally walked into while conversing with two of her older cousins she’s not as close with.
For good reasons.
“Aren’t you at all worried?”
Solana frowned. “About?”
Her cousin leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Roman as a dad. I mean, he’s not capable of love. Do you really expect him to be a good father?”
There’s no words to describe how much hearing such a thing about the man she loves hurt Solana. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her other cousin, however, simply rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying, everyone knows that man is a sociopath. You’re better off cutting your losses now, taking the kid to Mexico with your mom’s side of the family, and praying he doesn’t turn out like his psycho dad.”
Solana had to excuse herself for that one. She had nothing nice to say in that moment, but beyond that, she just needed to get a few tears out.
And she did, hoping that would be the last of it, but no, that was just too good of a hope to be true.
It was the comments overheard by some of Roman’s relatives, however, that did her in.
“I just can’t believe out of all the women, the respectable options who come from more established families, he chose her.”
The other woman snorted, shaking her head. “Right? It’s obvious she was looking for a sugar daddy. What is she, like 25?”
“I heard her father’s not doing well financially and told her to seek out Roman.”
“Makes sense. Look how easy she was. Didn’t waste any time opening up her legs and trapping him with a baby.” The woman rolled her eyes, adding, “at the very least, he could have found a Samoan woman. It’s bad enough he’s afakasi, but this child of theirs? The girl is Mexican and Black. He’ll hardly have any Samoan blood running through his veins. Our Bloodline could die out because of her.”
The first woman to speak snorted, smirking almost as she suggested, “that’s assuming it’s his baby. Roman’s smart though. I’m sure he’ll have a paternity test done as soon as she pushes out that bastard.”
“Assuming ICE doesn’t deport her first.”
The two women fell out in laughter at the same time Solana darted off, desperate to get away and have a safe space to cry.
It’s all just been too much. Too much hatred spewed for something that should be filled with love and excitement.
It’s been anything but, and it hurts.
It hurts a ton.
The knocking on the door is loud and borderline erratic, Solana quickly wiping her eyes and clearing her throat to inform that she’ll be out in a minute. But, a deep, familiar voice beats her to it.
“Solana.” It’s Roman, and he doesn’t sound happy. “Open the door.”
She blows out a deep breath and does her best to feign a ‘normal’ voice. “Just—just a second.”
“Now, Solana.” Before she can ask why, he adds in a calmer voice,“I know you’re crying.” Damn.
“So you either let me in or I’ll break this goddamn door down.”
He’ll do it. She knows he will. There’s nothing ever stopping Roman from comforting or being there for her when he knows she’s upset.
And this would definitely be one of those times.
Solana sniffles, trying to gather herself as she carefully stands up from the toilet seat. Wiping at her eyes, she flips the lock and is barely able to turn the knob when Roman is opening the door. Stepping back, he closes it behind him and moves his hands to her face, gaze locking with hers.
“What’s wrong?”
So many things, but this isn’t the time or place, so she shakes her head. “N–nothing. I’m just—baby hormones.”
“Bullshit,” he scoffs, voice still surprisingly gentle. “Baby, talk to me. What happened?”
Solana looks away, hating how just that question, coming from him, tone so understanding and soft almost, is enough to pull the truth out of her.
And it does.
“You were right. This was a bad idea. I should have never—” She stops herself, taking a deep, shaky breath. “I just wanted…..I thought….I thought they’d be happy for us.”
“Sol, you know it’s not that simple.” Though his words could be seen as insensitive, the way he says it is anything but. “Who said what?”
She closes her eyes, grasping onto his white button-up shirt. “It wasn’t just…..one person….it’s everybody.” He wipes at her tears, as she continues to feel the emotional weight of it all. “My family saying cruel things about you—”
“Sola—”
“Your family saying things about me, about our baby—”
At that, all gentleness drops and is replaced with something else. Something she knows Roman knows well.
Anger.
“Who?” It’s one word. One single word that means a multitude of things and none of them good.
Solana shifts her weight, shrugging, “I—I don’t know who they are. Some….some cousins of yours. But, it doesn’t—it doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does fucking matter.” Roman drops his hands from her face to instead take her right hand in his, holding it firmly. “And we gonna address this shit right now.”
Solana's eyes widen a bit. That’s….that’s not what she wanted. “Wait, Roman—”
He’s not listening though. His stride is purposeful and determined, as he leads them out the bathroom, down the hall, and into the main section of the venue where most of their families are gathered.
Roman guides them over to where the DJ has his setup, Solana gasping as Roman uses his free hand to yank a set of chords out the wall, effectively stopping the music.
The DJ looks just as confused as most of the guests but cowers away in fear when Roman ‘iffs’ at him, like he’s going to hit him, before snatching the microphone.
The abrupt ending of the music has attracted most gazes to where Roman and Solana stand, him moving them to the middle where all can see and hear.
He never once releases her hand.
“Imma say this one time, and one time only.” She swallows, her eyes landing on her parents. Her mom looks confused, while her dad wears the same expression he’s worn since the moment Solana finally came clean about her relationship with Roman.
Disappointed.
“Cause if I have to address this shit again, it’s not gonna be verbally.” Chills move up and down her spine. There’s not an ounce of her that questions if he’s bluffing or not. Roman doesn’t bluff. If he says it, he means it. “I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about me. That includes her family and mine, but I’ll be damned if I let any of ya’ll disrespect her or our child.” Solana’s hand naturally moves to her belly, her bump that’s pronounced and especially visible in her white bodycon dress. “We’re together. We’re having a baby. However way any of you feel about it, keep it to your fucking selves, because there’s no reason Solana should be crying at something that’s supposed to be a happy occasion.”
She swallows, noticing how the entire room has gone silent under the deep voice of Roman’s address. There’s not a person who looks uninterested or annoyed. It’s just a sea of various scared and nervous expressions.
“So, the next time you find yourselves talking shit about her, and especially our baby, understand it will absolutely be the last thing you ever fucking do.” Solana watches Roman begin to hand the microphone to the flabbergasted DJ before he snatches it back, turning once again toward the onlookers. “And one more thing……when you address her, make sure you do it properly.”
Solana’s throat goes dry. She shakes her head. He can’t be doing what she thinks he’s about to do. “Roman—”
“It’s not Solana Miller.” Oh my God. “It’s Solana Reigns.”
The sea of silence quickly morphs into an ocean of various gasps, exclamations, and even shouts.
Meanwhile, Roman simply smirks as he sticks the nail in the coffin before dropping the mic on the ground. “—we’re married.”
Featuring: Roman Reigns x Ivy (Black Fem OC) Word Count: 3.8k Warnings: 18+, NSFW, language, angst, we're world-building here, folks, a nice, slow burn before shit gets diabolical...hope you enjoy!
Happy reading! Read more Roman fics by me or msbigredmachine, if you'd like! ✨
“Baby, hurry up and put Duchess in her kennel so we can go. You don’t wanna be late for school, right?” Ivy said softly over her shoulder to her daughter. That girl was doing everything but scooping up the little teacup terrier pup she gifted her for her 6th birthday a few months ago. Instead, she turned around to see Zaia kicking her little feet as she sat on the couch and tapped on her iPad, bopping her head to make her braided ponytails and blue bobos swing and clack against her The Little Mermaid—the Halle Bailey version, of course—headphones.
Before that, she was bouncing around the living room with Duchess, both of them too hyper after breakfast, strawberry toaster strudels for Zaia, as it was the only thing she would want to eat some mornings, and beef kibbles for the pup. They were adorable and Ivy loved to see her kiddo and Duchess’s cute self excited for the day, but, Lord, it was seven a.m. and Ivy hadn’t even made her coffee yet trying to keep up with them.
She sighed but smiled to herself because of course her daughter hadn’t heard her, too busy blasting that Bluey theme song she was obsessed with lately. She wiped her hands on a kitchen cloth and placed it on the counter in front of her, finishing making herself and Zaia turkey sandwiches with chips and a side of baby carrots for lunch that she quickly packed in their lunchboxes before she strolled over to her daughter with a tap on her tiny shoulder. She whipped her big, brown eyes up at her then and yanked one side of her headphones off to nearly squeal, “Mama, you scared me!”
“Well, I’m sorry but it’s time to go, baby. Will you get Duchess into her kennel?” Ivy reminded her again and crossed her arms over her chest in her purple scrubs. Just then, the puppy scurried across the wooden floor with a black sock in her mouth, frantically trying to hop on Zaia’s lap to make her play with her and the sock that Ivy saw then belonged to Angelo who was still fast asleep upstairs. “Down, girl! And gimme this,” Ivy scowled at Duchess and gently wrestled the sock away from her surprisingly powerful gnaw, pointing to the kennel across the room near the fireplace for Zaia to leap up with a “yes ma’am” and take the dog with her. She watched her daughter fuss with the lock on the spacious cage that could fit Duchess’s doggy bed, puppy pad, water, and food bowls, and let out a small sigh of relief that all of their fuss didn’t wake up her child’s father who was absolutely not a morning person like the rest of the house.
“Can we play the Bluey song in the car?” Zaia asked beside her as they stood outside on the porch, Ivy locking the door and tossing her fingers through the loose but thick, dark afro curls on her head. She gave her baby a wry, teasing smile and made her giggle, because she knew just as well as Ivy that she’d heard just about enough damn Bluey to go out of her mind.
Yet as they started to walk to Ivy’s Kia Carnival in the driveway, she found herself nodding her head to Zaia’s question, making her daughter squeal in delight again and prance ahead of her to the minivan. Ivy could have squealed herself because the autumn air was quite brisk today, the breeze seeping right through her wool cardigan. Zaia looked unphased in her blue puffer jacket as she climbed into the front seat—and she was equally unphased by the loud clunk that rang out next door as something heavy hit the pavement.
The sound caught Ivy’s attention, though, her eyes shooting to her left as usually she and Zaia were the first ones active this early in the quiet, little suburban neighborhood. This part of Connecticut she noticed mainly housed retired white folks who slept in or appeared on their porches with their golf caddy bags in tow when the sun was a little higher in the cloudy sky. It was part of the reason why Ivy chose this area to settle down in three years ago: It was tranquil with no drama or noise. None from her neighbors and none from her child’s father…even though he eventually followed her here to “make amends” and see to it that they pretend to live together as a “happy family.”
While Angelo did have a key to her home for emergencies, he was not on the mortgage. However, it looked like someone next door must have just gotten his keys and became a homeowner as the loud clunk was from a couple of youngish looking movers doing their best not to drop the corner of a hefty and huge chestnut dresser again. It looked regal and expensive, too, yet Ivy noticed its owner kept a straight face as he stood off to the side on his freshly-cut lawn—she heard and saw the team of mowers and leaf-blowers yesterday afternoon—with one hand in the pocket of his brown slacks and the other around a mug of coffee as he held it to his mouth.
“Uh, sorry, Mr. Reigns,” one of the movers hiccupped an apology as they scrambled past him and up the stairs of his wraparound porch to haul it inside. Mr. Reigns was tall enough that Ivy could see him towering over the white-picket fence between them. She could see the expression on his face was still placid even though the movers looked wary to have potentially scuffed his furniture. And he was tall enough that he could see Ivy being nosy as she slowly walked to her minivan, his face breaking with emotion then as a small, handsome smile pulled at his lips.
“Not a problem, boys. Just be a little more careful if you can.” Mr. Reigns sounded sophisticated and calm with a tip of his mug at them before he tipped his chin directly at Ivy. The smile was still on his lips as he slipped his hand from his pocket and through the air with a little wave at her. “Good mornin’, neighbor.”
“Oh! Morning.” Ivy waved back with her keys attached to her lavender, fuzzy ball keychain dangling in the air. Her eyes flitted to it and for some reason it made her feel as awkward as her voice seemed to sound out of nowhere, all pitchy and coy as the man’s smile grew bigger and as he walked closer to the fence. Ivy didn’t mean to make eye contact or strike up a conversation with him because she had to get Zaia to elementary school and herself to the hospital before both of them ran late…and before Angelo woke and ran up his temperature seeing Ivy conversing with another man.
But the way Mr. Reigns briefly ran his eyes along her curves that were well-defined in her clingy scrubs that had shrunk after so many washes, Ivy felt herself smiling back at him. He was quite the looker, too, with his long, dark hair that he swept off his strong, bearded jaw into a low bun that sat above broad shoulders in his cream-colored cashmere sweater. All of him was broad, Ivy noted now that he stood less than ten feet away, his body built with muscles like he was some kind of athlete. It made her wonder what he was doing here in a retirement neighborhood when he looked about her age, mid 30s, and clearly in shape to still be playing football or whatever it is he did.
However, she would not be finding out because she didn’t have the time to ask as Zaia peeked her head out of the car door to whine, “Mama, didn’t you say I was gonna be late for school? We have to go right now, right?” That made Mr. Reigns chuckle and Ivy blush as she nodded at her daughter, readjusting the straps of her purse and lunchbox on her shoulder.
“I’m coming, baby,” Ivy chimed and shot the man to her left with a sympathetic look. “I’m Ivy, by the way. Your only neighbor with a kid. Nice to meet you, Mr. Reigns, is it?”
“Roman,” he said with another sip of his coffee and another smile that he first pointed to her and then to Zaia as he called to her. “Sorry for the hold up, little lady. Have a good day at school.”
Zaia mumbled her thanks with a bashful grin before she shut the door again and Ivy could see her iPad lighting up through the tinted windows with what had to be Bluey before she glanced at Roman again when he cooed with that handsome smile, “I hope you have a good day, too. Don’t work too hard.”
It was Ivy’s turn to chuckle as not working too hard wasn’t an option as an assistant head nurse and mom. She glimpsed past him to the movers who looked a little wobbly on their knees trying to carry a glass coffee table with a marble base from the vast moving truck parked along the curb. Not only did Roman sound sophisticated but he apparently had sophisticated taste in décor, too. “Thanks, but tell that to them. Hope they don’t have to work overtime if they drop that thing.”
Roman’s eyes followed her gaze before they flowed back to her, wrinkling at the sides as he grinned and stroked at his bearded chin. “Ah. I think those two are new on the job so I won’t hound on ’em. Besides, it’s too early on this beautiful day to be anything but blessed to be alive. But if you don’t mind, I gotta say…the day isn’t half as beautiful as you.”
The bass in his voice was beautiful and made Ivy fit to blush, but the blood surging to her cheeks burned with nerves when she heard another muffled voice inside her home. It was Duchess yapping with tiny barks which meant Angelo had to be awake and in her sights as she strained to get his attention so he’d free her from her kennel. The last thing Ivy needed before starting her day was the bullshit he would stir if he caught her grinning and skinning from Roman’s compliment, so she swiftly thanked him and said goodbye so she could finally duck into her minivan where Zaia waited for to crank the engine and stereo for her song before she asked, “Who was that man, mama?”
“He’s our new neighbor. He was friendly, wasn’t he?” she replied and Zaia nodded as Ivy adjusted her rearview mirror to back out of her driveway. The morning sun was a hazy, orange glow that barely shone behind the clouds, but she could see Roman standing on his side of the fence where she left him as he watched her take off down the road, his friendly, warm smile never withering from his handsome face.
Three cups of coffee. That’s what it took to get Ivy through the work day. Two during the hectic hours of the morning that blurred together as Ivy tended to her paperwork leftover on her desk from last night, as well as ripping and running around the several floors of the south wing of the hospital to help her nurses pass meds and tend to patients because they were short-staffed; and one more cup with her lunch that technically could have been dinner because she didn’t get to sit down again and eat until well after four p.m.
She was thankful that she checked off most of the items on her to-do list that Tuesday, and that at least she didn’t have to get pulled away to pick up Zaia. If Angelo was good for anything, and that wasn’t very many things, he was helpful when it came to their daughter. Ivy knew he loved their baby girl just as much as she did, hell, it was the reason he thought he could still force himself into her life as he knew she needed his help taking care of Zaia. And not financially, as Ivy was lucky her job paid the bills and kept food on the table. But parentally, as Zaia loved her dad and would notice if he went away.
Lord knows Ivy tried to get them both away from him so she could raise her on her own and without the influence of her overbearing father…but that overbearing nature of his was reserved for Ivy exclusively—because to Zaia, he was perfect in every way. Ivy knew that was exactly his tactic: Be a good dad to keep them all together, no matter how many times she told his aggravating ass that they were not a couple anymore. It didn’t matter if they still slept together sometimes…sex to blow off steam would never solidify them.
It’s why she cursed under her breath when she saw his Lexus still on the curb when she backed into her driveway after getting home from work late that afternoon. He could have called her best friend, Gemini, to come over and babysit so he could take his behind back to his house across town. Ivy shook her head which was beginning to pound as she put her minivan in park and thought to grab her bags and cardigan from the passenger seat. She was in no hurry to go inside now since there was no telling what mood Angelo would be in. His temperamental ass liked to argue about the stupidest things, especially when she attempted to kick him out because it only gave him more time in her face and place.
She quietly closed the door of her vehicle, hoping he and Zaia were upstairs in her bedroom playing Mario Party on the Nintendo he bought her last month, or something loud enough that they didn’t hear her arrival. Ivy let out a deep breath as she leaned against the door and tilted her aching head back onto the window, wishing she had more energy to deal with him properly but, alas, the long work day had drained her of it. That was essentially the problem every day, another tactic Angelo used against her to keep her complacent. She was no dummy and no one’s fool, but she was tired and just wanted to keep the peace over sapping the rest of her energy on fighting with the only fool under her roof.
“Hey, Ivy? You alright?”
Roman’s deep voice startled her from her thoughts as her eyes popped open and spotted him lounging on his porch in one of his wooden outdoor chairs. The matching side table in between it and the other one balanced the same mug she saw him sipping from that morning, and she wondered where he worked and if he needed just as many cups of coffee to see the day through.
Before Ivy could respond, he eased up from his chair and off his porch altogether to stand nearish to her across the picket fence like earlier today. His deep brown eyes had a soft glint to them even in the low light of the sun starting to go down, studying her with concern just as soft as he added with a teasing, little smile, “Thought I told you to have a good day…what happened?”
She knew he was trying to make her smile, too, as she wiped a hand over her face trying to hide how his efforts worked. “You said you hoped I had a good day. Not the same thing. But I’m alright. I just have a little headache.”
Her voice was hushed with that apprehension that it might travel into her house that her gaze floated to, and Roman seemed to notice as he murmured with a tip of his chin to where she hastily looked, “Everything okay in there?”
“Yeah. Yes. All good,” Ivy said almost immediately. She didn’t know this man to be talking to him about her problems, and no matter how friendly he was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to him much longer when she heard the distinct sound of a door closing in her home. She waited a beat, waited for a safe silence to fall back into the air, before she quickly added, “Are you good? All moved in? I don’t see the truck there. That was pretty fast.”
Roman let his concerned eyes linger on her before he let his shoulders down in his black thermal shirt and nodded his head once. “Ah, yeah. The new boys worked out well. Got the furniture in and most of my boxes out of storage. I’m leavin’ a few in there, though…don’t have the time or the emotional energy to sort through those just yet.”
That deep voice of his lowered with a subtle quake at the latter half of his words, his eyes shooting down to his feet for a moment and making Ivy’s chest pull tight as she recognized that look. That feeling. Grief. She didn’t know what grief he was dealing with and, just like she thought for herself, he didn’t know her well enough to share so she decided not to ask about it. However, she did ask softly, “I understand…are you liking your new home, though? It was empty for about four months which is rare for this neighborhood. These old folks love to buy up some property around here.”
The sound of his chuckle was quiet yet rich, his gaze slowly meeting hers again with his handsome smile that made her chest flutter with her heartbeat this time. She hadn’t felt that kind of sensation since god knows when, the sensation intensifying when Roman said to her, “I like it a lot. I knew I picked a good place to call home before I stepped foot in it. Didn’t know my neighbor would be someone lovely like you, though.”
“That’s twice now you’ve complimented me and we just met…slow your roll,” Ivy uttered with a blush that he couldn’t see on her deep brown skin, but damn it if it didn’t make her blush harder the longer he gazed into her eyes before he shrugged with a cute grin.
“Oh, so it’s too soon to tell you nice things about yourself? Feel free to compliment me and catch up, then,” Roman replied, smirking, and she giggled. But that giggle turned into a small gasp when Ivy heard another door in her home, the front door as it swung open. And she didn’t have to turn around, nor did she have the time to, to know who it was barging around her minivan with the bullshit.
“When’d you get home, baby? And who is this?” It was almost like the shadows of the evening rolled in with Angelo who loomed over Ivy as she watched her sensored porch lights pop on to combat those pesty shadows. Yet nothing would get rid of this pest because he was stubborn and even slid his arm around her waist like it would prove he was right where he needed to be, and that it was Roman out of place as he glared at the man over the fence.
“Name’s Roman. I’m Ivy’s neighbor. Who are you?” Roman spat back. The composed and sophisticated man from this morning seemed to slightly disappear as his narrowed eyes landed on Angelo’s fingers curled around Ivy’s hip before he looked dead in her eyes yet asked gently, “Is this the headache you mentioned?”
The concern that returned to his voice was gentle, too, but Ivy’s eyes still widened that he would say such a thing that implied anything to set Angelo off—which it absolutely did as he snatched his hand off her to shove it towards Roman as he asserted, “I’m her man, nigga. So, I’mma ask again…who the fuck do you think you are talkin’ to my woman?”
Roman let out a mocking laugh as he growled, “Boy, who the hell do you think you’re talkin’ to is the better question?”
“Ange, cut it out before Zaia hears you,” Ivy hissed at Angelo and yanked on his sweater sleeve as he took a couple of steps in front of her like he wanted to step to Roman who seemed to stand even taller than before. But it was too late as she heard Zaia shrieking with a laugh and Duchess barking as the two of them tumbled outside.
“Daddy left the door open! Duchess got out! C’mere, girl!” Their daughter almost tripped over her little Nike shoelaces that were slightly untied as she must have thrown them on in a hurry to catch Duchess who ran circles around her. Ivy exclaimed for her to be careful and tugged at Angelo’s sleeve again with a little more force since he and Roman didn’t move or break the staredown they were locked in, even when Zaia piped up behind them, “Daddy, help me! Daddy?”
“Don’t do somethin’ stupid in front of your daughter. You hear her callin’ you, don’t you?” Roman asserted with his arms folded on his wide chest, his words grating through his teeth before he seemed to relax as his eyes looked over to Zaia. It made Angelo snap out of it and look back at her, too, as she came running with Duchess in her hands.
“You have to hold her now ’cause she got out ’cause of you,” Zaia demanded in her sweet, little voice, making a reluctant grin touch Angelo’s face—and Ivy knew it was reluctant because she could see his nostrils still somewhat flared, straining not to say another word to Roman in her presence.
“Yes, ma’am,” Angelo said as coolly as he could to their daughter instead, picking up the pup she shoved at him before she yanked at his clothes, too, the hem of his sweater, to drag him back inside the house. She tossed another demand up at him about ice cream and he did his best to toss a glare at Roman as he left, but not without muttering to Ivy, “Let’s go, ma.”
He wouldn’t pick up his feet much without Ivy following him, even as Zaia dug her heels into the grass to move him, and Ivy tried not to roll her eyes. Yet she did let them remain on Roman’s for less than a second as she walked away with her family, that little second feeling much longer as just like this morning, Roman’s eyes stayed fixed on her. Although his serious look suddenly softened when Angelo turned his back on him as a hint of his warm smile appeared for her.
A warm smile that told Ivy should she get another headache, Roman was just next door and a knock away to soothe it.
. . .
The Boy Next Door: Chapter One
Thanks for reading and thanks again to this anon for the story idea. Your replies and reblogs would be much appreciated if you enjoyed!
Read chapter two when it drops here on msbigredmachine's blog. And join our TBND tag list here, if you wanna! ❤️
🫶🏾 Tag list: @msbigredmachine @visionarymode @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @vebner37
@dreamsinfocus @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @jeyusos-girl @iguessilikewrestlingnow
@purplehairgawdess @mohawkmama @po3ticb3auty @alyyaanna @murrylove
@papireigns-05 @vintage-pvssy @bebesobrielo @urasunflower @unfriendly--blvck--hottie
@theninthwonder @tabletheofhead @venusesworld @ariieeesworld @sassginaswanmills
@theglamclosetsl @empressdede @woahdude9481 @browngalmal @crxssjae
@twocentuar @surdelcielo @althegreat33 @alichesmi @eclectic-tee
@joannasteez @whatdoeseverybodywant @puppetmastermya @caramelcleopatraa @femdisa
@megamindsecretlair @headoftheetable @brwnsugababe @heauxvibez @christinabae
@raya-hunter01 @lilucey @aisharmi @neverlookatthisblog @dayaimonee
@kianaleani @digidestned @marasdeathnote @msbluehaz3 @hunnidmilly
@worldwidehoodrat @ariiaeltheedonn @wanderingreigns @sisinever @jaza23
@wrestlingbaby @amandairene88 @romanreignsbae @li-da-savage @thickbihhwitdagapp
@cry1nwhileimcumm1n @2-muchsauce @usoholic @dontcomplicateit @rihanna0607
@jimingotthajams @happy-princes @nymphobabyyx @authenticallymisfitted @sageispunk
@bxrbie1 @octaviastargirl @skyesthebomb @mersers-moonypadfoot-prongs @blueki16
@slutouttanowhere @zabwlky1999 @ayeeitsali @shamaness1171 @mainlyy-danae
@misslackey @sayyestoheav3nn @dyttomori @dyttomori02 @kat3457
@zillasvilla @smile1318 @prettyfilmz @trippinsorrows @romansthrone
@wwecrazed2010 @xbriexx @ashyknee @katrinnnn @thedondada05
@shes2real @aldrigmer444 @rose-bliss @jxtina-86 @that-one-anxious-mango
@fearlesschimera @kuromiish @vampygomez @tshepisho @magnificentbouquetmusic
@disc0fairy @prettybitxhnica @mellybandzz @blveeeeeee @taytropicana
@planetch1ld @mayasopinions
Ayra Starr
Leigh-Anne with Ayra Starr, Chloë and Halle.
Leigh-Anne and Ayra Starr at Paris Fashion Week show.