You danced around each other for years. While every cell that made up your skin prickled a warning when he stepped into a room, your blood quickened and made your heart thump wildly in your chest. If asked about him for the record, you hated his guts. He took your harsh comments and accusations in stride. There was plenty already on his plate. So why would he pay attention to you?

Another title shot had appeared on your horizon.

It burned you from the inside out that you had fallen for the great trick: nice girls don’t win in WWE. They’re cute for the fans, and they keep the company’s pockets filled with the money of little girls hopeful in the impossible dream of their role models. But when it comes down to it: hope and cuteness doesn’t hold a crown. Defiant desperation does.

That same defiant desperation coursed through your veins now. Gone were your bright colors and your pastel phase. Instead, your ring gear blended in with every other woman who had reached for heaven and failed. Silk and lace in black and red adorned your muscles when you went to the ring.

The former champion never stood a chance.

At the end of the match, you held your championship high. Your blood was singing and your soul felt alight! But the crowd booed you. When had you lost them? And when had you lost your friends? Backstage, you were avoided. You, the new women’s champion. All the way to your locker room, not a single person met your gaze. All except one.

“Congratulations, champ.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Piss off, Reigns.”

His head tilted. “No. Not this time. I’m here with an honest invitation.” Roman held out his hand. “I couldn’t help but notice your cold reception after your victory. So come with me. I’ve got a celebration for you in my office.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“What have I to gain by lying?”

You crossed your arms, resting them on your championship. “You could have your Bloodline there to laugh at me.”

Roman’s usually smug face fell. A glimmer of sincerity shown through. “No one is going to laugh at you.”

A few minutes later, he was handing you a champagne flute. You stood stiffly in the middle of the room. “What is this?” The office was empty beside the two of you and the overly plush furniture. As he settled into a large armchair, you sneered at him. “Don’t think just because I’m on the fan’s bad side right now that it puts me in the same circle as you.”

“Of course not.” He took a sip of his drink. His eyes traveled up and down your figure… slowly.

It made your skin crawl. “Thanks for the drink. But I should be going.” Before you could set down the flute, Roman was on you. He pinned you to the wall. His large hand covered your mouth and your argument.

“Shh.” With a dissatisfied hum, he caught your wrists as you tried to claw him. He pinned them over your head easily. “You know, I really thought you would have figured it out by now.” Roman ignored your shudder as he ran his nose around the circle of your face. “All this time… and you’ve never cracked through that little wall I put up in your mind. I’ve been thinning it out, making it weaker on purpose over the last several sessions. When you won tonight, I thought you finally had your breakthrough.” He pressed his forehead to yours, making you keep eye contact with him. “I guess we’ll have to do this the regular way.”

You struggled, trying to get out from under him. What could he possibly be talking about? What wall? What sessions? The only routine thing in your life were the pleasurable nightmares that showed up once a month.

“This should make you remember.”

Before you could writhe away, Roman descended upon you. He kissed you deeply. His hands continued to press your wrists into the wall. Roman kept pushing until your struggle died out and was replaced with kissing him back.

You were lightheaded when he finally pulled away. His hands on your wrists and the wall behind you were the only way you kept your feet. The memories flooded back in. “You… you fed on me. And wiped my memories.”

“Yes.”

You gasped as the memories kept coming. There were so many of them. It felt like hundreds. “How long? How long have you been toying with me?”

Roman lifted you into his arms. When he sat back into his chair, you limply fell into place on his lap, like you were made to fit there. “It’s been long enough.” With a smile, he guided you to straddle his waist. Your head rolled to rest on his shoulder. He leaned his head to rest his cheek on your forehead. “I think it’s about time you took your rightful place by my side. My bite has been changing you. Slowly but surely. Your victory tonight proves it, even if it didn’t mean what I hoped. You’re stronger, more sure of yourself. You’re ruthless and you don’t take failure lightly.” He titled your chin up so he could kiss you again, humming when your hips rolled of their own accord.

The kiss was both like fire and water: igniting you from the inside out, but also drowning you. With a whimper, you managed to pull away. “What happened to me?” you panted. “Where did I go? I won’t do this. What have you done to me!”

“You can’t go back. I’ve fed on you for too long.”

“No!” You tried to push him away.

Roman took hold of your shoulders and shook you hard. “Yes, you will. Or I could drain you right here and now and nobody would know what happened to you.” His eyes flashed red as you weakly continued and failed to get away. “Tonight will be different. I’m not going to drink from you.”

That statement made you pause. But you still didn’t trust him.

“You’re going to drink from me.”

As he held you in place with his red gaze, Roman bit down on his wrist. His own blood welled up. It dripped and pooled on the arm rest and on your thigh. He held it out. When you refused to lean towards it, he gripped the back of your head and pushed you towards it. “You’ve been strong enough today. Take your reward. Drink.”

A few drops made it past your clamped teeth to your tongue. It wasn’t like fire or ice, like you thought. Instead, it was like a comforting cup of hot tea. You could taste the power in it. Like sinking into a warm bath, the power spread through your body, relaxing you. You don’t know when Roman had removed your clothes, or when he had pulled his hard cock out into the open. But he was ready for when the Thirst hit you. All of a sudden, your stomach lurched. It raged. It was bottomless. Roman speared his cock into you as you began to suck on his wrist in earnest. Filled with the greatest desire you had ever known, you bounced as he darkly whispered encouragement.

Maybe his blood was like fire: all consuming and rapturous. Or maybe it was like water, too: refreshing and as impossible to ignore as the ocean.

Roman panted. “Enough.” His voice was soft. But as you refused to pull away, he shook you off his arm, “enough!”

You did not wait. This new hunger was not just for blood. It was for your feuding life forces. Each of his thrusts into your sex drew out your energy like a thread through a needle. You could pull it back a bit with your own thrusts. But he was stronger. And those eyes. They stilled your will, pinning your hips to his better than any ropes or chains.

Your heart stuttered in your chest. Once. Then again. You gasped and faltered. Roman kept you upright by wrapping his arms around your torso. His nose trailed up the side of your neck.

“What’s happening to me? It feels like my heart is – like it is-“

“Like it’s going to stop beating. It will. I’m making you my queen. Like I said, I want you by my side.”

You frowned. “Someone else likes to use that… title. I don’t think she’d appreciate me using it without her permission.” Not that it was the least of your worries, but your heavy blinking wasn’t enough to help you focus on anything heavier, like escaping.

“When I’m done with you, it won’t matter. She won’t be able to conquer you.”

Each of your heart beats thumped further and further away from one another. Your vision blurred. Soon, all you could see were Roman’s red eyes dulling to silver. He continued to bounce you on his length, burying his cock in you as you finally drifted away.

When you came too, you were laid across the couch on your stomach. Roman was pressed behind you, rutting into you and panting into your hair. “Welcome back. How do you feel?”

How could you describe it? The colors of the room were brighter. Like you could see things down to their molecules if you focused long enough. But you couldn’t. Roman kept filling you, then slowly dragging out before rapidly filing you again. You were close. Your body needed release almost as much as it needed… as it needed to satisfy your new desire.

With you awake, Roman renewed his vigor. Thrust after thrust, he pushed you to the far end of the couch until you were half-crawled over the arm rest. He nipped his middle finger. Before he could heal, he hooked it into your mouth. He moaned as you sucked on the bead of blood. He used the leverage to arch your back. He smiled as you screamed with the angle. Then he gave a shout as you clamped your inner walls around his length. With your new strength, he almost lost his composure.

It was the distraction you needed. Pushing back, you managed to force him to sit on the couch. You renewed your seat from earlier. But now you could really see him. Newly sensitive to the details of the world, you could feel the height and depths of his tattoos under your tongue. Roman returned the taste, laving his tongue over your nipples and nipping at your skin just short of breaking. Pushing on his shoulders, you made him lie back. His moans rumbled through you as his release threatened closer. You were on the edge.

“Gonna scream for me?” Roman dug his nails into your thighs, making you hiss as bloody thin welts rose up. “It’s such a pretty sound. My favorite. Give it to me.”

“Close.”

“Let go. You’re so beautiful. So ruined. Everything I sculpted you to be. Cum for me. Come on.”

The last drop of rebellion melted away as his thumb circled your clit. You spread your hands over his pecs, bouncing faster. With a mangled scream, you landed hard and latched your thighs on either side of his hips. A shudder ran from the bottom of your spine to the base of your skull. It blinded you.

Roman chased his own release. The force of it took you both to the floor. He mouthed at the hollow of your throat as he filled you with a whine. “That’s it. That’s my woman. Mine… for always.” After a deep breath to regain his composure, he returned you to lie on the couch.

The room dimmed, barely illuminated behind your drooping eyelids as Roman hushed and soothed you down. When he began to rub warmth back into your joints, you sighed a questioning sound that turned into alarm. You remembered this pattern of his.

“Wait – stop.”

“It’s time to sleep.”

“I thought – I thought if I was your queen—”

“You will be. But not this version of you. This version of you will go to sleep… and she will never have to wake up.” He continued stroking down your nose, and curving over your cheeks. With his thumb, he wiped some of his blood off your lips. “Close your eyes, baby.”

“No, I – I don’t – I don’t want to sleep. Please.” Your voice began to drift off. No matter how much air you dragged into your lungs, your roars came out as whispers. “I’ll do anything. Just… please don’t put me under. Roman, no-” Reeling, you fought to stay awake. But his fingers trailing up and down your nose, your cheeks, and your eyelids were hard to ignore. “Please, don’t do this.”

“It’s time to sleep.”

“Roman. Wait, please-“ Your eyelids drooped. The couch seemed to envelope you. Even the pillow he put under your head was a weight pulling at your consciousness. “I won’t- I won’t-“

“Just a dream.”

Only a second more before you slipped under.

“Time to wake up, my chieftess.”

***

Masterlist

Wrestling Masterlist 

******

For another weekly episode, heroically ominous music pulled various emotions as The Tribal Chief Roman Reigns stood tall, flagged by talented cousins Jimmy and Jey Uso. “Ones” lifted up high as fans elevated greatness on live television. There’s no turning back whatsoever. 

“The Tribal Chief will always exude power..” Announcers welcomed this dynasty with each passing moment. 

Out of nowhere, lighting dropped around the ring and sneaky laughter echoed from shadows with new rhythms, cuing another entrance. 

Once lights brightened again, you appeared ringside in silence, turning everyone’s night upside down. 

“What the hell?” Announcers pulled flabbergasted expressions to heighten this upcoming moment. “Oh my. Ladies and gentlemen, get ready for chaos. She’s back!” 

Sliding into this ring once more, you watched members of The OG Bloodline, noticing when Jimmy and Jey Uso traded glances first. 

Wiseman Paul Heyman covered his mouth in shock, almost terrified that you pulled audacity this evening. 

Soon enough, Tribal Chief Roman Reigns stepped forward, prompting an outright frenzy of screams during this moment. 

Almost towering beyond height, Reigns sported this graphic t-shirt and clothed pants. Sneakers moved along once more. Styling dark hair with a bun, this greying beard welcomed his chiseled face. 

“Be careful, Champ. Roman doesn’t share spotlights.” Commentators pulled their warnings to you again. 

Nearly sizing you up, Roman bit his lip. Even Jimmy and Jey can’t believe what’s going on right now. 

“Before we get to the good stuff, do you even know who I am?” Pulling his Southern accent forward, Reigns almost chuckled through one strong and deep voice. 

“Uh-oh! Our Tribal Chief has spoken. What will you do about it, Champ?” Despite measuring Reigns, commentators still wanted you to help you out and fans offered encouragement. 

“Cat got your tongue, Sweetheart?” Teasing this moment with chances to flirt, Roman went further. 

“Don’t fall for Roman’s charm!” Announcers scrambled once more and thousands of people lost their minds. 

“I saw everything. We saw everything. Gesturing around, Roman still addressed you and this audience cheered even louder. “Last week pulled one of the biggest nights in history.” 

“That’s right. She’s the champion!” Commentary pulled another chance to scope your newest title. 

“Remember that I’m The Tribal Chief.” Roman almost lowered his voice. “Join us.” 

The crowd gasped, waiting for your response. 

“No.” You stood your ground, declining. 

Supportive cheering reached otherworldly decibels. Even when you dropped that microphone down, your music picked back up and spotlights flickered, ending another chapter of this saga. 

*****

“I’lll keep watching her. It was crazy, Uce!” Jimmy Uso huddled with his cell phone and watched your championship match during this new segment. 

“You think Ro likes her?” Jey pulled another question about you and Reigns. Curiosity nagged beyond words. 

“I don’t think so. Flirting’s okay, but Roman acts too selfish.” Jimmy shook his head. 

“Good point. He barely puts up with us.” Jey shrugged, quickly watching your footage once more. 

Moments later, Roman entered the space and welcomed his chance to sit down, joined by Paul Heyman as usual. Fans still cheered through the walls. 

“You good?” Jimmy questioned Reigns. 

“Turn it off.” Roman gestured by Jimmy’s phone. 

Members of the audience booed when Jim’s phone turned silent, but there was no other choice at this time. 

“What’s up?” Jimmy waited. Even his twin brother Jey still looked on. 

“There’s another match. We should go.” Roman faced his cousins, ready to watch your part of the episode tonight. 

“Hold on. No way! We can’t interfere, man.” Jimmy spoke up first. 

“I’m not saying interfere.” Roman corrected his statement. 

“Then what’s going on?” Jimmy scrunched up his face. 

“We just…watch…” Roman almost shrugged. 

“Nah. We run this show, but don’t take the spotlight away from her.” Jimmy looked out for you regardless, especially this time around. 

Jimmy walked off before Roman could respond, closing this segment. 

________

“There it is! Another highlight for the Champ.” Announcers welcomed your ongoing victory streak. “Enjoy your celebration.” 

“She’s here!” Fans pulled your slogan once more. 

“USO!” Upbeat yet almost rattling music spiraled thousands out of nowhere and you immediately glanced over. 

Dynamic pair Jimmy and Jey Uso walked down this ramp. Big-time cheering would turn even louder. 

“What’s wrong?” You questioned your “brothers” when this crowd settled. 

“The Tribal Chief’s looking for you.” Jimmy offered the truth. 

“I won’t join your faction. I’ve already refused.” You declined this chance once more. 

“We’re not talking about The Bloodline.” Jimmy explained further. 

“Roman Reigns?! Where did he come from?” Before you could ask more questions, cheering heightened around the venue as commentators expressed shock. 

Towering his muscular build, Roman locked eye contact with you and shadowed power near edges of the crowd. 

“I’m not asking anymore.” His strong voice woke up everyone. 

Joining this ring, Roman passed that microphone elsewhere and sized you up, walking closer until your bodies almost met. 

His famously brown eyes pierced into your soul. 

“The Tribal Chief could plot so much tonight.” Announcers played up fear. 

“You won’t join our team, but I have another idea…” Reigns didn’t even laugh. 

“What?” You’ve asked. 

“Go out with me.” Roman dropped this bombshell. 

“Oh my goodness! What kind of question is that?” Commentators pulled astonishment right back out. 

“Why didn’t you just ask before?” You laugh. Even Jimmy and Jey listened for Roman’s upcoming answer. 

“Never thought I’d say this, but you make me nervous.” For once, this quick smile would brighten Roman’s face as he offered your compliment. 

The crowd swooned everywhere. 

“Why?” You grinned, waiting. 

“Where should I start, y’all?” Roman turned by the audience while still encouraging your presence. Cheering picked right back up. 

“Be careful! We’re still on live television.” Announcers warned Roman no matter what could happen next. 

“You’re talented, badass, and beautiful. Maybe we could…” Reigns trailed, biting his lip once more. 

“Help the family, then we’ll talk.” You understood that power might fall if Roman didn’t stand true on his word. 

Monday, Nov 18, 2024

You unlaced your boots with a big smile on your face. You had just stood tall with your team for Survivor Series: War Games. This was your first War Games and you were so excited that you, Bianca, and Naomi, the Big Three, were a part of the team. Along with Rhea Ripley and Iyo Sky, you were certain your team would beat Tiffany Stratton and her wack team.

You pulled off your boots and tossed them in your duffle. You stripped out of your gear and threw on some underwear and sweats. You were looking forward to a long, hot shower at the hotel. A group of superstars left the locker room and you waved. You slipped into your sneakers and stood. You checked the locker to make sure you didn’t forget anything. You felt hands slip around your waist and a face press into your neck. 

“Hey baby,” Bianca said, kissing your neck. 

You turn around and look around the locker room. 

“Babe! What if someone sees?” you whispered.

“A whole gang of people left. Come on, just one kiss,” Bianca grinned and playfully tugged on the sleeves on your sweatshirt.

You smiled and gave in, kissing her soft lips. You two weren’t a secret; just private. A few people knew. The fans didn’t know although some speculated. You both already gave so much to the wrestling world and neither of you were ready to share your relationship yet. It was still fairly new, all things considered. Y’all would be celebrating a year together in January. 

“You ready to go?” you asked. 

“Yeah, let’s go,” Bianca said. 

You grabbed your stuff and stepped around the corner with Bianca to get her stuff. You locked eyes with Naomi sitting down on a bench. You and Bianca both jumped. 

“Girl, I thought you left already!” Bianca said, grabbing her stuff. 

“I left my charger,” Naomi said, glancing between you two.

If she had seen y’all, you weren’t worried. Naomi already knew. 

“Well, let’s all walk out together,” you said, smiling. 

Naomi smiled and stood up. “Yeah let’s go. I’m exhausted.”

“Same!” You and Bianca replied as the three of you walked out of the locker room. 

“Also don’t scare us like that again,” Bianca said, pointing at Naomi. 

“My bad, y’all. I won’t,” Naomi said, smiling.

Friday, Nov 22, 2024 

You were backstage warming up for your qualifying match to become a contender for the new Women’s United States Championship. You and Bianca were the Women’s Tag Champions, but you wouldn’t mind if either one of you earned another title to hold. You were locking into your persona: Ophelia the Omen. You had started out as a heel when you first joined WWE and now you were more of a tweener. You wore a skirt and a tankini style top, dark grey with a little metallic sheen to it. Black chains accentuated the top and skirt. You wore tall, dark grey wrestling boots. You wore your hair in your signature halo braid. You were excited and hot, sweating already. Was it nervous sweats? You weren’t sure. You fanned yourself and went to the garage area, where it was cooler. You sighed with relief, making sure you weren’t standing too close to the ledge. You faced the ledge, looking down at a black car. You couldn’t see your reflection clearly, but you checked yourself out again anyway, as if you didn’t spend ten minutes analyzing yourself in front of the mirror before leaving the locker room. 

Suddenly, you felt yourself flying toward the car. You tried to catch yourself, but failed, cracking your head against the shield. You groaned and rolled over on your back, trying to get a glimpse of your attacker. Your vision was blurry. They jumped down and growled, “She’s mine,” before punching you hard in the face. You blacked out. 

You woke up in the hospital. Your head throbbed and one of your wrists ached. Someone was holding your hand. You glanced to your right. It was Bianca. You smiled, relief flooding your body. She smiled, teary-eyed.

“Hi baby. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got pushed onto a car,” you replied. 

Bianca chuckled softly and squeezed your hand. “Babe, stop.”

“What’s the damage?” you asked.

“Let me get the nurse,” Bianca said. She pushed the call button. “They suspect you have a concussion and you have a sprained wrist.”

“Oh no the match!” you groaned. “Wait, how did you do?”

“I left my match when I heard about you. Naomi told me when I was tossed out of the ring.”

“B, you should’ve finished the match.”

“And miss riding to the hospital with you? No,” Bianca said. 

“How long have I been out?” You asked. 

“Three hours,” the nurse chimed in. “Hello Y/N, I’m Evelyn. Let’s do some checks.” 

Evelyn flashed a penlight in your eyes and it made your headache worse. She asked you to spell your name and you paused, the letters not coming to you right away. But they did come. The same hesitation with your birthday. She carefully stood you up, Bianca rushed to your side. You realized she was still in her gear. She smelled like sweat and her deodorant, something floral. You had trouble walking in a straight line. They helped you back in bed. 

“Yep, it’s looking like a concussion. The doctor will come and do more tests. He’ll talk to you about the initial CT scan and see if you’ll need another one.”

“Thank you, Evelyn,” you said. 

“You’re welcome. If you need anything, please let me know.”

“Can I get some water please?”

“Ice or no ice?”

“Ice please.”

“I’ll be right back.”

“Naomi’s here,” Bianca said. “She brought our stuff. Let me go downstairs.”

“No visiting hours, huh?” You asked.

“We VIP, baby. Courtesy of Triple H.”

“Nice,” you said. 

“I’ll be right back, Y/N,” Bianca said. She carefully kissed your forehead before leaving. 

Evelyn returned with a big plastic cup of water. She put the straw in and pushed the tray table toward you. You took a sip. 

“Ahh. Thank you so much.”

“Any time. The call button’s there if you need me.“

Evelyn looked over your vitals on the screen before leaving. A few minutes later, Naomi and Bianca appeared with bags. 

“Hi Y/N,” Naomi said. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay.”

“Unfortunately, they’re still looking for your attacker,” Naomi said. “No cameras back there.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” Bianca said, frustrated. “Someone HAD to have seen something.” 

“We’ll find whoever did it and we'll make them pay,” Naomi said.

“Thanks, Nae. I appreciate it,” you said.

“No problem. I got your back. We’re the Big Three, baby,” Naomi said, smiling. She gently took your hand and gave it a squeeze. 

“Thanks again, Nae,” Bianca said. “I’m going to hijack your shower and get outta this gear.” She kissed your forehead again. She started rummaging through her bag, gathering up everything she needed.

“Enjoy,” you said. “I feel so tired already.” 

“Get some rest,” Naomi said. “I’ll head out so you can have some quiet. B, no Beyonce solos in there tonight. Our girl needs to rest.” 

Bianca laughed. “Shut up! I’ll see you later, girl.” 

Naomi waved again before leaving. You smiled. You were grateful that she had your back. You glanced at Bianca, feeling grateful for her as well. Your eyes started getting heavy, but you didn’t look away. You caught her wink at you just before you fell asleep. 

Friday, February 7, 2025

It had been a long journey since November, but you were finally medically cleared. You would be on SmackDown next week. You were so excited. You had texted Bianca and Naomi the good news. You couldn’t wait to celebrate with Bianca when she got back in town. The two of you still lived apart, but after your one year anniversary in January, you two were considering moving in together. Bianca basically lived at your house. When she wasn’t on the road, she was there helping you with your recovery. You loved her so much. You couldn’t wait to be traveling and wrestling again. 

Your former War Games team had won. Bayley stepped up and replaced you. Like Bianca, you were wary of Bayley, but she played well with everyone. With Naomi’s help, Bianca retained the tag team gold so Naomi was the tag champion now. You felt both happy and sad and hoped Naomi would pass the title back to you when it was time. 

You were watching SmackDown and cheered when Naomi and Bianca came on screen. They looked so good in their gear! They had been killing it the last few months. You knew you were gonna have to step up your gear game when you got back.

Bianca was hyping up Naomi. She was getting ready to fight Nia Jax. Just before she walked off, she said, “Don’t worry, B. She’s mine.” 

You froze. The way she said she’s mine reminded you of the attacker. Too much like the attacker…but that couldn’t be? Why would Naomi attack you? For tag team gold? To be closer to Bianca? Bianca had to be the she, right? You tried to tell yourself no, that that couldn’t be true. But you rewinded the show and closed your eyes. The growl wasn’t as strong as that night, but it was there. Your chest tightened with panic. You went to text Bianca, but what if Naomi saw? Would she hurt her too? You decided to wait until she got back to tell her. Naomi’s match was on. You turned off the TV. You were shaking. You tried to take deep breaths to calm down. They eased the tension in your chest, but you were still scared for Bianca. And the more you thought about Naomi and how “helpful” she had been these past couple of months, the more your anger grew.

“I’m gonna kill her,” you said through clenched teeth.

Saturday, February 8, 2025

You were up early waiting for Bianca to get in. You offered to pick her up, but she said not to worry about it. You checked her location and paced. She was fine. Naomi wasn’t with her. They had flown together from Memphis, but they had separate connecting flights. You were still worried. What if she didn’t believe you? It did sound crazy, but you couldn’t shake it. You felt deep down in your bones that you were right.

Bianca unlocked the door and you sighed with relief. She came in and sat her bags down. After locking the door, y’all ran to each other and squeezed tightly.

“I missed you,” Bianca said. 

You separated just enough to kiss her. She pulled you closer to her. Both your sighs turned into quiet moans. You wanted to get lost in her kiss and stay here a while, but you had to focus. You had to break the news. You broke the kiss. Your heart ached a little at the dreamy look Bianca had on her face. She licked her lips and smiled at you.

“I-I think…Naomi attacked me,” you said. 

Bianca’s face fell. “What?”

“R-remember I told you my attacker said, ‘She’s mine’ ? Well, Naomi said it on SmackDown and my blood ran cold. It’s like I was back there.”

Bianca stepped back. “No way. Why would she…Wait…”

Bianca sat down on the couch. “Something weird did happen. Actually a couple of weird things happened,” she said.

You sat down next to her. “What happened?”

“She asked me to be her valentine yesterday. We were out celebrating after SmackDown. And I said yeah, I’ll be your galentine. And she was like no, I wanna be your valentine. I said, well you know Y/N’s my valentine. She smiled, but then she mumbled under her breath. It kinda sounded like for now? I asked what she said and she said oh of course she is, but I can be your valentine too. She bought another round of drinks and just brushed it off. And then I fell asleep on the plane. And I felt her kiss me just before I woke up. By the time I was fully awake, she was all the way settled in her seat like nothing happened, but I knew,” Bianca said, touching a shaky hand to her lips.

Your stomach flipped. “I’m gonna kill her.”

Bianca grabbed your hand. “Let’s call her first, baby. Maybe she can explain?”

You didn’t like it, but what else could you do? You wouldn’t see her until next week. 

You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Okay. Call her.”

Bianca called her with the phone on speaker. 

“Hi B! What’s up?” Naomi said cheerfully.

“Did you attack Y/N?” she asked. 

There was silence. You and Bianca locked eyes. 

“I’ll explain everything on SmackDown. See you and Y/N in DC,” Naomi said calmly. 

Naomi hung up the phone and you both looked at the blank screen in disbelief. 

Friday, February 14, 2025

You were in gorilla, all geared up and ready to go. You had your hair pulled tight into a bun. You have a line of black face paint under each eye like a football player. You had all black: black tankini top, black tights, and black wrestling boots. You were a little pissed they had incorporated the attack into a storyline, but the fans were constantly asking what happened and who would pay. Naomi would pay tonight. Bianca had called Naomi out, letting her know that you and she suspected Naomi. Bianca didn’t get into the details. The details were for y’all to deal with off-screen. Naomi had gone out after that. They were both in the ring with mics. Naomi was getting ready to confess. And then you would go out there and take her out. 

“You suspect that I attacked Ophelia?” Naomi asked. “Why?”

“Maybe you wanted tag team gold for yourself. Maybe you were jealous of how close our friendship is,” Bianca said, glaring at Naomi. “I don’t know. Tell me why.”

Naomi chuckled, low and dark. “I did it.”

The audience gasped. They started to boo. 

“I’ll tell you why too. I wasn’t jealous of your friendship. I was jealous of your relationship. That’s right, folks. Bianca and Ophelia are dating. They’re in love.”

The crowd gasped again. Your jaw dropped open. People in gorilla began to whisper. You closed your mouth and focused on the ground. It’s okay. The higher ups and HR knew. That’s what mattered. Still, anger coursed through your body. She had no right to put your business out there.

“Naomi,” Bianca started, but Naomi held her hand up. 

“I’m not finished. I was gonna make my move. And then Ophelia swoops in on you. But I’ve known you longer. I know what you really deserve. And you deserve better than her. I was gonna move on past the dating thing, but then y’all started tag teaming. Then you won gold. And then you started showing up for me less and less. Whole time, I was there for y’all whenever you needed me. Y’all needed a third for a match? I was there. But when I needed just one of y’all to have my back, you both were nowhere to be found.” 

Naomi sniffled and you looked up at the monitor. She was crying. You rolled your eyes. 

“I love you, B,” Naomi said, her voice cracking. “I love you so much. We can do this. Without her. We can be better tag team champions. Maybe...we can even be better lovers.” 

“Enough of this shit,” you said, your face twisting into a grimace. You ran out of gorilla before anyone could stop you. By the time your music hit, you were halfway up the ramp. You barely heard the roar of the crowd over your heart pounding in your ears. Your blood was boiling. You slid into the ring. Bianca tried to step in between you two, but you dodged her and started swinging on Naomi. She stumbled and fell back on the mat. You jumped on top of her and continued to pummel her. You felt arms reach for you, but you shook them off. Naw, Naomi was gonna get hers. She had not only messed with your girl, she had messed with your career. You missed Survivor Series, missed an opportunity for the United States Championship, missed the Royal Rumble. She thought she was better than you? You would show her how wrong she was. 

Big arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you off Naomi. You screamed and kicked, your adrenaline pumping. You tried to break free, but you couldn’t. Naomi was slightly bloody and dazed. Someone checked her, blocking her face from view. This person basically carried you to gorilla. They released you toward the back of gorilla and you tried to turn and run back out. They grabbed your arm.

“I will fuck you up,” you growled. 

Suddenly, Bianca was in front of you, pressing her forehead to yours. 

“You have to calm down, baby.”

She gently touched your face and your anger cooled off slightly. You wrapped your arms around her waist and pulled her close to you.

“She told everyone. Everyone knows,” you said.

“It’s okay, my love,” Bianca said softly. “We’ll be okay.” 

“I-I didn’t swoop in,” you stammered. “I didn’t know she had feelings for you.”

“Shhhhh,” Biana whispered. “Not here. But I didn’t know either.” 

She hugged you and you felt the rest of the anger cool off. You sighed and buried your face in her neck. 

“Can we go to the hotel, baby?” you whispered. 

“Let’s go, baby,” Bianca said.

Ricky twisted away as Ultra Violette planted a loud kiss on his cheek. He was flushed and placed his hands on her shoulders to push her away (again), when he saw you. “Hey.” He looked between you and Violette. “This – this isn’t what it looks like.” Before he could push the woman away, she caught his wrists and wrapped them around her waist.

“Maybe it’s exactly what it looks like.” She stared you down. When Ricky managed to free his wrists, she didn’t reach for them again. But she stared you down, unmoving from her spot between you and your partner.

Swallowing hard, Ricky watched how even your breathing was. “Violette. You need to leave.” He rolled his eyes when she didn’t move. “Bitch, I said get lost.”

The second she took her eyes off to retort, that’s when you moved. You took your turn to pin Ricky to the wall with your forearm pressed against his collarbone. “There’s no need for name-calling.” You kept your voice even. The calmness in your tone was working. Even Violette was beginning to pick up on the rage rolling off you in waves. “But like he said… get lost.”

Violette bumped into the door, and then the frame before she made it out of the room. She broke through the camera crew who had arrived to catch the fireworks.

You turned back to Ricky. “I know you have a good explanation prepared. But I don’t want to hear it. There had to be several steps for her to get that close to you. And I am not interested in hearing excuses.” Your head whipped to the camera crew, making the guy holding the mic flinch. “As for you all… get out of here.” Ricky stayed put as you closed the door between the pair of you and prying eyes. The click of the lock echoed like a death knoll.  

***

The next time anyone saw Ricky Starks, he was staggering his way around backstage. Hiking his cruiserweight title over his shoulder, Daron Richardson caught him before he could lose his balance. “You good there?”

Ricky blinked slowly. And grinned. He wobbled into the light, showing off how his skin was littered in bright red lipstick prints. “I’m… great. How’s your night going?”

Daron chuckled. “Not as well as yours, apparently.” He released Ricky, but kept his hands up a few seconds until he knew the man wasn’t going to topple over. “I’m surprised your woman let you out of her sight.”

“She’s got her reasons.”

The main reason drifted into the same backstage alcove as the guys. Violette took one look at Ricky and smirked. “Your partner’s got a weird way of showing her ire.”

He shook his head. “I think she’s made her point… exquisitely.” His vision glassed over as he thought back to you expressing your “ire.” His grin widened and he shrugged. “I can’t help it if you can’t read between the lines.”

Violette tried to swagger her way into his space, but he spun away from her, nearly toppling Daron in the process. “Fine. Then spell it out for me?” She pouted. “How could she possibly be better for you than me?”

“Spark Notes: Why would I ever what a woman like you when I have a woman like her?” He looked to one side where you had stepped into view. “How’s that summary?”

You smiled as you crossed your arms. “Sounds good to me. Short. To the point.”

Violette clenched her fists and jaw. “You-“

“And if you ever try to steal what’s mine again-” You quickly moved to stand nose-to-nose with her. “I will put you in the ground. Do we understand one another?”

For a second it looked like Violette was going to swing at you. But she decided against it as your stillness unnerved her. “Yeah. I suppose we understand one another.” With a huff and without a backwards glance, she stomped her way down the hall.

Daron whistled. “How’s that for entertainment. Damn. Hey, you gotta sister?”

“No, sorry,” you shrugged. “Only child.”

He glanced at Ricky and his collection of lipstick prints. “Well, put this man on three strikes. If he screws up again, my door is aways open. The way I see it, you could count all this as two strikes already.”

You leaned into the possessive way Ricky wrapped his arm around your waist. “I’ll keep that in mind. Have a good night.”

“Night.” He gave Ricky one more glance and a wide grin before leaving you two alone.

Ricky hummed. “That cruiserweight title looks nice.”

“Mhmm.”

“It like look even better sitting on someone else’s shoulder.”

You glanced up at him. “Spotting your next target already? A little soon, don’t you think?” Removing his arm from your waist, you stepped back towards the dressing room. “It can wait. I think you’ve done enough plotting for one night.” You watched him lean against the wall with a huff. Holding out your hand, you tilted your head. “You coming? I’ve got a few plots of my own. If you’re interested.”

“Are they similar to the ones you’ve planted on me already?” He ran a thumb across one of the lip prints before sliding his hand into yours.

“They’re better.”

***

 Ricky barely had time to drop the bags on the hotel floor before you were on him.

“Oh, so it’s gonna be like that?”

“It’s gonna be like that.” You gave his chest a slight push.

His body bounced slightly where it landed on the bed. He leaned up onto his forearms. “You know I’d never really fall for something like that, right?”

“I know.” You leaned over him, letting him kiss around your neck and down the swell of your breasts. The backstage segments had gone better than you expected. It was a little worrisome that Violette was so eager to follow your instructions to get caught with Ricky. But now you had an in for ever challenging Violette, and Ricky had an in for ever challenging Daron. The soft extended entrance into House of Glory was just as you planned. And now, both of you could celebrate. AEW’s exile wasn’t going to stop you.

Ricky fumbled with the buttons on his shirt while you kissed him down into the sheets. You had refreshed your lipstick before confronting Violette the second time. Your new kisses left new marks next to the first ones. He couldn’t help but notice your placement between his legs. Or his placement so close to the edge of the bed. Shimmying down, he tried to adjust to what he thought you had planned. But he was wrong. He hummed, surprised, into your kisses as you guided him further up the bed instead. With a hiss, he eagerly watched you trail a nail down between his pecs and zig-zagging across his stomach. There was too much fabric on his shoulders. But every time he tried to unbutton the cuffs, you were there to entwine your fingers in his, or leaning into his space, or distracting him with your mouth on his skin.

You waited until he could barely keep his eyes open. His bulge pressed hot and insistent against your thigh. Grinding onto it, you smirked into the desperate, shuddering kisses he pressed to the side of your mouth. Guiding him to lean up, you began to roughly push the shirt over his shoulders, feeling him up as you went. Ricky protested as your nails caught the fabric.

“Hey, easy. It’s a Vuitton.”

You glanced at the tag. “No. It’s from Belk. There wasn’t a chance in hell you were going to risk one of your nice shirts with some random woman rubbing all over you.”

He pursed his lips in agreement. “Maybe. But you don’t have to try to ruin it.”

“I won’t.” You slid the fabric down till only his wrists were covered, trapped in the cuffs. You bunched the rest of the shirt fabric around his hands, further restricting his movements. With a gleam in your eye, you leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I’d never ruin your stuff. But you? I’ll ruin you every chance I get.”

“Playing dirty, are we?”

“Not yet. But I’ll get there.”

With a bit of extra maneuvering, you eventually had Ricky laid out with his arms reached back over his head. You couldn’t help but lick your lips while looking at his form. You would never tire of the view. If you didn’t like seeing it so much while he wrestled, you’d have him fight in a shirt so you could keep it all to yourself. You shook your head. Focus. You needed to focus. If you gave this man too much room, he’d be out of his bindings in a second and you’d lose control for the rest of the night. You took off your shirt to level the playing field. Ricky groaned. And then again as you squeezed your breasts over your bra.

Ricky thrust his hips up into yours. “C’mon, t’amie. Get me out of these. M’ ready for you.”

You dragged your hands down his thighs over his pants first, before dragging them down. The room already felt hot as you removed your own and the rest, baring your all to him before you brought his length into the open. Settling yourself at the base of the bed, you gently wrapped your hand around his cock. “You are ready for me.”

He nodded. “Been ready all night.” His grin was highlighted by the plethora of lipstick prints still littering his skin. If he was honest, he’d been ready since you put them there that afternoon.

Seeing him marked up kindled a fire in your belly. You finally knew what he meant by those looks he gave when you wore jewelry that he bought for you, or wore his favorite color. Chest warm with possessiveness, you gently began to work your hand up and down his length. Your lips parted as Ricky tossed his head back. He really was pretty. All that toned muscle and warm skin arched for you in ecstasy. While he panted under your touch and twisted the fabric around his hands, you quietly shifted further down the bed. The first pass of your mouth over his length made you hum.

 Ricky mumbled a string of phrases in broken Creole.

“What was that, Darling?” You licked his cock from balls to tip, making him gasp a different tumble of words. “Translation, please?”

“Don’t – don’t stop,” he finally rasped.

Maybe it was cruel to toy with him. Getting caught with Violette was just acting, a work. But, if you were honest, you’d been worked up too since covering him in lipstick prints. You worked him over in every way you knew would make him vocal. And, with his hands tied back, you thought there wasn’t a way for him to stop the sound. You grumbled against this thigh as he bit his lip instead. “Want to hear you, Darling.”

“Thin walls.”

“So?” You swallowed him down, loving that it caught him off-guard enough for his whine to escape. “That’s never stopped us before.” You moved quickly, trying to get him loud again. Up and down, hollowing and sucking, you tried everything. When your mouth wasn’t occupied with a bit of his length, your hand attended too.

To his credit, Ricky did well in staying quiet. But he writhed under your touch. His stomach flexed and his hands tugged roughly at his shirt. He couldn’t seem to decide between watching you work and squeezing his eyes shut against the pleasure.

You brought him to the brink several times, always pulling back before he could spill into your mouth or over your hands. But you were getting impatient. The heat between your own thighs was becoming impossible to ignore. You tightened your grip at the base of his cock.

“Which way do you want me? Front or back?”

Ricky’s eyes were screwed shut. His chest heaved. As your hand smoothed up his stomach and over his pecs, he groaned. “Whichever you like. But get me out of this.” He brought the shirt tangled around his wrists down into your face. “Let me touch you.”

“But I’m touching you plenty.” You gave his cock a twist. “What more could you want? Aren’t I enough woman for you?”

“Plenty. But… need to touch you. Make you feel good. C’mon, ma’cha. Let me out.” He struggled, trying to pull his strong hands through the tight cuffs.

You worked quickly to release him before he could rip the fabric.

When he got his hands on you, he pulled you close. You ended up sitting in his lap with your chest pressed to his. His fingertips dug into your waist, holding you in place even as you tried to roll your hips. You tried to raise up so you could sink onto his length, but Ricky was too focused on sucking a mark into the curve of your neck to give you the chance.

“Gonna kill that Daron.”

“What? Daron?” You’d barely given the man a second glance. And it wasn’t like you considered him a theat.

“He shouldn’t have even looked at you. Even if I did get to ‘three strikes’ with you, he’d never be able to treat you right.”

You finally gave yourself some space by shoving him slightly with your hand splayed wide across his chest. “You do realize we have a meeting with him tomorrow. Planning for any future title shots.”

“Good.”

He tilted your head the other way so he could start another mark to mirror the first. As you gripped his biceps, Ricky finally lifted you up so you could have what you wanted. He pressed his forehead to yours as he filled you. While both of you adjusted, and while you shivered in his lap, he darkened his marks on your throat. He waited for you to rock in his lap before he began to move. He muffled your shout with a deep kiss.

Maybe you shouldn’t have toyed with him so much earlier. Ricky was more than willing to return the favor. He watched, enraptured and slightly smug, as you dropped deeper and deeper into bliss. And it gave him no small pleasure to feel your fingers smear the lipstick prints across his skin in your desperation to feel him. He quickened his pace of bouncing you on his cock.

“Look at me, ma’cha. C’mon. Let me see those pretty eyes.” His self-satisfied voice hummed against the curve of your shoulder.  

Couillion, you thought.

It was a herculean effort. And it didn’t help that he pinned you down onto his lap until you managed to open your eyes.

“There you are.” He grinned, looking just a sex-drunk as you felt. “Getting close?”

You tried to bounce on your own as a reply, but he tightened his grip on your hips. “Yes, Darling. So close.” With a whine, you flexed your walls around him and squirmed. With your thumb, you smeared another of the lip-prints. “Ricky, please. Fuck me like only you can-“

Ricky took the invitation like a dare. He leaned forward until you fell back into the sheets. Pinned beneath him, all you could do was hold on as he thrust into you. The change in angle crossed your vision. He chuckled as you cried out. “Gonna take such good care of you, Baby. Let go for me. Want to see you fall apart. For me.”

It didn’t take much. Never did. Your hands clawed into his arms and back as you scrambled to ground yourself. Ricky never stopped moving. His hips changed angles. And he circled his thumb on your clit. But he kept moving until your vision whited out and your body tensed with release. His pace picked up. Leaning closer, he deepened his thrusts, chasing his own end. When he found it, he groaned into one of the hickies on your neck. His arms gave out. Ricky pinned you beneath his tangle of limbs, but kept you speared on his length. For a minute, both of you were content to settle into the glow.

“Since when – since when are you worried about Daron?”

“I’m not. Just like you’re not worried about Violette.” He arched a brow at you as you nodded in agreement. “Like I told her: why would I want her when I’ve got you?”

Humming, you added, “ditto, when I’ve got you.” You ran a hand over your throat, feeling the slight, but pleasant ache of being marked by him. “How am I supposed to hide these tomorrow?”

“You’re not.”

You frowned at him.

He shrugged, then sighed and settled his head onto your shoulder. His hips rolled.

You whimpered. “We can’t stay like this.”

“Why not?”

You rolled your eyes. “Firstly, we’re upside down on the bed. It might be difficult to sleep under the sheets like this. And secondly, we really need to wash off all those kisses. If the hotel staff find all that red on their linens, they’re going to think I killed you.”

“Fine.” He kissed the underside of your jaw. Snagging his shirt, he cleaned you up as he pulled out. Ricky chuckled at your reactions. “It’ll wash. And, even if it was a Vuitton, it would be worth ruining for you.” He tugged you to your feet. Pushing you towards the shower, he promised in your ear, “I want to suck more marks into your skin that no one will ever get to see. Only me.”

***

Masterlist

More Ricky Fics:

Broken Negotiations (A, Whump)

Surrender (A, Whump)

Sundress Season (S, F)

Necklace (S)

“That’s funny, Tiffany. Even though I lost one match, how many times have you tried cashing your Money In The Bank Contract?” You smirked, almost pacing back and forth when fans realized that question. 

“Doesn't matter. Your run won’t last long.” Stratton attempted to play games, yet viewers still wouldn’t listen and cheered for you instead.  

“I kicked down the door and no one has stopped me.” You defended everything because there’s no other choice. 

“Don’t act arrogant.” Tiffany kept gossiping. “The glove won’t hand out superpowers like your Sugar Daddy claims.” 

“Bullshit!“ Production caught explicit language when the crowd nearly gasped. Tiffany just disrespected your “chances” with Roman. 

“Stop dreaming. Your time is up!” Stratton echoed manic laughter until you punched her in the face with your dominant hand and sent this place into an outright frenzy. 

“Here we go, ladies and gentlemen! Our Women’s Champion has continued learning from The Bloodline playbook.” Commentators relayed your scuffle against Tiffany. 

“Watch your mouth, Stratton! I'm never leaving this place.” While Tiffany failed to stand right away, you paced once more and glanced down, locking brutal eye contact. 

Once alarms blared over and over again, cheering towered decibels when main spotlights flashed red out of nowhere. 

“Oh my goodness! What's going on?” Announcers questioned so much. 

Arriving without music, Naomi marched down this large-scale ramp wearing scarlet, ready to battle for the first time since losing the Tag Team match. 

“Now what?” Subtitles caught the movement of her lips as Nay leveled Stratton. 

Tiffany stood once more, but not without hearing disappointment from the audience. 

Before Stratton could even talk about anything else, Naomi stepped back just in time. 

Soon enough, you nodded, watching the exact moment where Nay ran up and circled both legs around Tiffany, landing Stratton back down with this signature move. 

“Holy hell!” Commentators scrambled. “Naomi just pulled the Hurricanrana on Tiffany Stratton.”

“She's my friend! Stop playing.” Nay defended you no matter what. 

“Comradery is alive between Naomi and our champion.” Announcers welcomed this duo's return before commercials started. 

*****

Another segment kicked off backstage when members of The Bloodline joined Roman as usual. 

“What are you doing?” Jimmy Uso snuck by one of the couches. 

“Don't take my phone.” Roman nearly scrunched up his face. 

“What's wrong, Uce?” Jimmy smirked. “We played in the same toy box growing up. Let me see.” 

“No.” Roman still declined, but Jim stood and walked closer anyway. 

“Got something to hide, Big Dog?” Jimmy stepped up. 

“I haven't heard that name in a while. We're going there, Jimmy?” Roman arched his brow for a second. 

“Yeah.” Jimmy turned around the room. “Shouldn't keep secrets with us. It's bad enough when you disrespect everybody.”

Just before Roman might trade his phone, you entered this space. 

“Hey, Sis!” Upon realization, Jimmy turned right back around and brightened his smile. “Your promo was great.” 

“Thanks, Jim.” You greeted Jimmy alongside everyone else, but paused after seeing Roman. 

“Let's go, y'all.” Jimmy's twin brother Jey stepped forward this time and directed everyone else out, leaving you alone with Reigns.

_____

“What's going on?” You sat down on the couch when Roman set this chance. 

“I'm proud of you.” Reigns almost grinned for a moment. 

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Your words accepted his compliment. 

“Of course. Are  you busy next week?” Roman's deep brown eyes faced your path. 

“Not until our next broadcast. Why?” You don't know what to think.  

“My Tribal Chief…” Before Roman could even speak to you once more, Wiseman Paul Heyman shuffled footsteps. 

“Not right now.” One glance from Reigns nearly surprised Heyman. 

“I'm sorry for interrupting, but…” Paul Heyman looked near the hallway. 

“Wiseman…” Roman still warned Paul, gesturing between you and himself. 

“Yes, my Tribal Chief?” Paul almost hesitated back. 

“Please give us a minute. You and I can talk  later…” Roman looked at you, but Paul nodded, leaving as quickly as his arrival. 

____

“What was your question?” You tried to focus again, but Roman's handsome smile illuminated on camera. 

“Would you like to go out for dinner?” Reigns asked. Fans swooned from the walls. 

“Of course.” You grinned. 

“Okay.” His Southern accent turned coy as laughter warmed your heart. “I'll have everything set up. Just be ready next week.”

“Deal.” You leave, ending the segment as Roman nearly blushed. 

*****

Only drafted for “Smackdown” events, you snuck into this parking lot when different programs had stopped airing and waited for Roman's truck to arrive. 

Chrome wheels moved closer and you smiled when the vehicle parked, signaling Roman's arrival.

“Hey.” His smile brightened once more when Roman led your way to the car. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you.” You definitely took another compliment. “Dressed very handsome yourself, Roman.” 

Suited for the evening, his bun topped dark hair once more and that nearly graying beard welcomed this chiseled face all over again. 

“We both clean up, nice, huh?” His chuckle prompted butterflies in your stomach. 

“C'mon.” You almost giggled. “We'll be late. Didn't you tell me about the reservation?”

“Oh, shit! Yes, Ma'am. You're right.” Quickly facing his watch, Roman helped you reach this car and you joined the interior, leaving within minutes. 

*****

No Wiseman. No cousins. No cameras. No drama whatsoever. Joining this private space located within the restaurant, you traded questions back and forth, enjoying time in person. 

“What did Tiffany say again?” Roman squinted, definitely humored about your segment with Tiffany Stratton. 

“Called you my Sugar Daddy.” You almost laughed out over dessert. “I mean, you are one of the richest people here.”

“Was it scripted?” Reigns questioned you just to be sure. 

“Nope.” You grinned about Tiffany’s line. “T dropped that one.”

“That’s good. I like it.” Roman’s voice lowered just a bit more than expected and you both silenced, catching this moment. 

“Sorry…” You tried to salvage composure from within. 

“Don’t apologize.” His tone could shake up the world and Reigns didn’t even yell in character now. “I got the bill.” 

Before you could protest, this server nodded in your direction and Ro slipped this card, almost biting his lip near departure. 

Oh my God. Struck by countless emotions that, you only remember leaving the restaurant and holding hands with this incredible man. 

****

 During the new episode, The Bloodline pulled forward as their signature unit and towered strength. “Ones” continued moving skyward to acknowledge Roman Reigns. Overhead lights always casted blue in all directions. 

Yet in the middle of this introduction, effects powered down out of nowhere and different beams replaced Roman’s entrance. 

When your music hit, cheering erupted as you stepped out. The championship over your shoulder as eye contact trained forward. 

Despite staying in character, Roman couldn’t help watching you. 

Passing each other in the hall just brightened so many days and even sharing dinner wasn’t enough anymore. Regardless of cameras, your attitude might drive him to insanity. 

“Oh my goodness, everyone! What the hell is Our Tribal Chief doing right now?” Commentators jumped. 

Walking towards you, Reigns glanced down and licked his lips, eyeing the gleam of your own championship belt. 

“What’s up?” Subtitles caught your words to Roman. Sizing each other up, your timing played games right back. 

“You're a brat.” His Southern accent dropped.