Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Damian Priest lay battered on the mat, surrounded by the very faction he once called family. Their strikes were ruthless, leaving him struggling to get back on his feet. Just when it seemed like it was all over for him, the familiar, thunderous scream of Rhea Ripley’s entrance music shattered the tension, causing the crowd to pop.

“No,” Damian thought to himself. “No, no, no.” Not when she was still injured. The numbers game was bound to get to her and he knew he wouldn’t be able to protect her.

As Rhea limped as fast as she could with her crutch, Liv Morgan ran down the ramp and tried to attack first but Rhea was quick and used her crutch to hit Liv before going at it with Dom. Eventually, the numbers game caught up and Rhea found herself lying on the mat beside Priest, getting viciously assaulted by Liv. Damian wanted badly to reach out and get to her as Rhea held back her screams and whimpers.

As Liv raised the crutch high to hit Rhea again, Damian—with all the strength he had left—crawled to Rhea and covered her, using himself as a human shield.

The impact of Liv’s slams onto his back made resonating thuds. At first, there was a shocking numbness, like his nerves couldn’t process the pain fast enough. Liv hit him repeatedly and all he could do was cover the back of his neck while making sure Rhea was safe.

It was a good thing Jey Uso ran out to save them before things got worse.

—

Jey assisted Damian and Rhea in getting to an ambulance that took them to a nearby medical facility. He had to stay for his match later that night, but the two were thankful for all that he had done. “I’ll check in again on you two later, yeah?” he said.

As two nurses quietly tended to each superstar who sat together side by side on a hospital bed, Damian found himself taking Rhea’s hand, intertwining their fingers. In turn, she gave it a reassuring squeeze. The weeks that followed Summerslam had taken a huge toll on them mentally and emotionally but it also pushed them closer than ever before. For Damian, it was like a switch had been flipped and something ignited, suddenly putting Rhea in a different light. It was evident in the way his hugs were tighter and lingered a little longer, the affectionate kisses on the top of her head, and the way he looked at her or talked about her during promos and interviews.

But it was all too complicated so he compartmentalized and brushed those feelings aside to focus on more important matters.

“I’m gonna murder Liv as soon as I can get my hands on her,” Rhea was first to break the silence.

“I know you will. But for now, I need you to rest up and recover. It’ll be hard to look out for each other when we’re both banged up,” Damian replied.

One of the nurses took her chance to chime in and agreed. “I suggest sitting it out for a couple of weeks. You guys are fortunate to come out of it with just bruises and bumps.”

Rhea rolled her eyes but sighed in defeat. “Fine. You’re right,” she agreed.

The second nurse who held an ice pack to Damian’s shoulder spoke as well. “We can discharge you guys after some paperwork so you can head back to the hotel and rest.”

Damian nodded. “Thank you.”

“Thank God Jey came out tonight,” Rhea said, taking a new crutch from her nurse and finding her balance again. Damian helped steady her as she got down from the bed, but felt a slight pang of jealousy. Brushing it aside like he always did lately, he was also grateful. He owed Jey for stepping up once again—even if it was probably mostly for Rhea.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect him to do what he did. Smart of him to bring the chair, too,” Damian had to give it to him.

As soon as the nurse finished icing Damian’s shoulder, they were discharged and were asked to go home and rest. Riding an Uber back to the hotel, Damian pressed the elevator button to Rhea’s floor. “You sure you can manage tonight?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Rhea assured him, limping with her crutch.

Damian walked her all the way to her room, holding on to her elbow as she fumbled for the key card in her bag. “Here, let me,” Damian reached for the key and opened the door.

Rhea hopped inside with her crutch, the soreness of her body finally taking its toll. She sat on the bed and made a move to remove her boots but the position caused a strain on her injured knee. “Here,” Damian offered again, kneeling down to help Rhea remove her boots and ankle socks. “You know, I can stick around. Make sure you’re okay.”

“You are not going to give me a bath like a child, Priest. I can handle it.”

The thought made Damian blush but he hid it with a loud laugh. “I wasn’t going to. But in case you need help with anything else, it might be better if I crashed here.”

“Yeah, fine. Whatever. It’s not like this is the first time you crashed in my room anyway.”

“This would only be my third. You crash in my room way more than I could count.”

“I didn’t know we were keeping tabs,” Rhea snorted before standing up. “I’m really tired. I’ll go get ready for bed.”

Damian nodded, watching her hop to the bathroom and close the door shut.

It took Rhea longer than usual to shower and get into an oversized shirt and boxers. When she finished, Damian was also showered and dressed. He must have gone to his room to use the bathroom there instead. As he sat on her bed reading a book on his iPad, his contact lenses having been replaced by his eyeglasses, she couldn’t help but recall the events of the night.

It felt really good that for the first time in a long time, she was the one being protected instead of doing the protecting. And that made her heart feel light—it fluttered and skipped a beat that all she wanted to do was hug Damian non-stop.

She climbed in bed and placed her head on his shoulder. “Thanks again for having my back,” she said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Damian smiled and wrapped an arm around her, kissing her forehead. “I told you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I’d take a bullet anytime for you.”

She hugged him back, leaning further against his chest and letting her head rest there. It wasn’t long before she fell asleep—her breathing slow and steady.

Damian watched her, his heart thudding with a familiar ache. Without her dark makeup on, she looked so serene, so effortlessly beautiful in her quiet vulnerability. It was moments like this, stolen glances in the silence, when his feelings stirred the strongest. He sighed softly, running a hand through his hair, torn between the joy of being near her and the weight of what he couldn't say. He wanted to reach out, brush a stray strand from her face, but his hand stopped midway. Instead, he let the moment linger, content for now to just be there.

”Goodnight, Rips,” he whispered, placing another kiss on the top of her head.

Chapter Text

Since Damian and Rhea both weren’t medically cleared to appear on RAW the following week, and they were under strict orders from Triple H himself to get some rest, the pair found themselves laying on a beautiful beach in Damian’s hometown in Puerto Rico. It took a lot of convincing on Damian’s part to get Rhea to fly with him. After all, without Dominik, Finn, and JD in the picture anymore, he was the closest she had to family—her actual one was thousands of miles away. Instead of having Rhea spend two weeks alone in her apartment in Florida, which she hated staying in if she were completely honest because of how bare, cold, and impersonal it was, Damian invited her to come with him to Puerto Rico for a few days.

“Don’t tell me you have anything better to do,” Damian had said. “Flying to the island and getting some sun might do us some good.”

“I thought about using the time to maybe fix up my place,” Rhea shrugged. “It still just doesn’t feel like home, you know?”

“We fly back on Friday. You’ll have plenty of time. And I’ll be there to help. You know that, right?”

“Okay, fine,” Rhea answered in defeat. “I do miss the beach. I haven’t been to one in a while. Last time was with my sister back in Australia.”

“Look, I know you’re homesick. And I know it sucks that your family’s all the way on the other side. But I’m here and I’ll always be here. I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re alone.”

“Hope you never get sick of me, Priest,” Rhea gave him a small smile.

Damian laughed. “Not a chance.”

—

Puerto Rico shared the same vibrant energy as Australia and Rhea was glad she took on Damian’s offer to spend a few days in San Juan. The sun hung low, casting a golden glow over them. Cobblestone paths wound through pastel-colored buildings, their facades weathered but full of life, as the salty breeze from the Atlantic wove through the air. Palm trees swayed lazily in rhythm with the distant sound of crashing waves, while the scent of roasted coffee and fresh plantains drifted from nearby cafés. It was a place where time seemed to slow down, where the hum of salsa music mingled with the laughter of locals, and the warmth of the island embraced them.

They were checked in at Condado Vanderbilt Hotel, a luxurious oceanfront resort built in 1919 that offered grand architecture, meticulously restored interiors that evoked the glamour of the past, and breathtaking views of the Atlantic Ocean. It was also just steps away from the Condado district, known for its upscale shopping, dining, and nightlife. The two decided to splurge on a two-bedroom oceanfront suite and had already spent their first night in a speakeasy called Furtivo, where they made fun of each other for the respective craft cocktails they ordered.

The next day, after spending the entire afternoon at the beach, Damian led them to a quaint and quiet restaurant called La Casita Blanca, which served authentic Puerto Rican comfort food.

“This is so freakin’ good,” Rhea closed her eyes to savor the flavors of her Carne Guisada con Arroz Blanco.

“I told you, right? Be sure to save room for dessert. We need to share the Tres Leches Cake and Flan de Queso,” Damian told her, taking a bite of his Carne Fuita Arroz on Gandules.

As the two enjoyed their dinner, a little girl—about eleven years old—shyly approached them. “Um, hola,” she greeted with a soft voice. “I’m sorry to interrupt your date but I just wanted to say that I’m a huge fan of you both.”

Damian was about to politely correct her that they weren’t on a date but Rhea either didn’t seem to mind or pretended to not have heard it. Instead, she beamed at the young girl. “Thank you, love. That’s really sweet of you. What’s your name?”

“Catalina,” the girl grinned. “You’re my favorite wrestler of all time. I can’t wait to see you win back the title from Liv.”

“You’re going to have to wait until Bad Blood,” Rhea winked. “Do you want a picture?”

“Yes, please!” Catalina giggled, taking a selfie with the two superstars. “Thank you again. It was nice to meet you. Enjoy your date,” she giggled again before scurrying off.

“She thinks we’re on a date,” Damian said flatly, taking a sip of his water.

“Well, I don’t blame her, Priest. It is a pretty romantic restaurant.”

“They’ve got the best food on the island!” he defended, though he felt the blood rushing to his cheeks.

Rhea laughed out loud. “Take it easy. Go order that dessert.”

“Wepa.”

As the two took turns with their desserts, Rhea started the conversation again. “You know, speaking of dates, Jey invited me out to Waffle House.”

Damian’s jaw tensed. “What is it with you and guys with mullets?”

“I dunno, you think I should go for it?”

Narrowing his eyes, Damian tried his best to ignore the envy creeping up. “Rips, you know I never meddled with you and Dom, and I’m not about to start now.”

“Yeah, but the thing with Dom was never really serious, was it? It’s just like every other relationship I had before him. You would know. You were there for all of them. Even the ones in NXT.”

Damian raised his brow. “You still got pretty hurt though.”

He had been a witness to it all. That night after Summerslam when they both got back to the hotel, she laid beside him on his bed, crying on his chest for hours. No amount of hair stroking and kisses to the head could comfort her as she fell asleep on him, dried tears streaking down her face.

“I was more hurt that Dom betrayed us both. We were his best friends.”

“Fair point,” Damian shrugged.

“Anyway, this thing with Jey. It’s weird. It’s unfamiliar. It’s—unsettling.”

“Does—the idea excite you?”

Rhea thought about it. “I’m not sure. Maybe I just like the attention. Or maybe the idea of not having to wear the pants for the first time in my life is what intrigues me.”

“Well, whatever you decide, I’m just going to be here.”

For Rhea, it meant that he’d always be there as a shoulder to cry on but for Damian, it had started to mean a whole lot differently.

Chapter Text

Rhea’s modern, one-bedroom apartment in Florida was located in a posh neighborhood and she had a corner unit that bathed in natural light. It featured mostly gray and wooden furniture with abstract paintings decorating the clean, white walls. The space flowed seamlessly into the dining and kitchen area, where a round dining table and elegant, high-backed chairs were situated. The kitchen itself was equipped with stainless steel appliances, crisp white cabinetry, and a stone countertop, reflecting a balance of practicality and design. Subtle recessed lighting and a neutral color palette throughout the apartment enhanced its airy, sophisticated ambiance, making the layout perfect for both intimate gatherings and quiet nights in.

The only problem was that none of it screamed Rhea Ripley.

Damian chuckled to himself as he looked around the pristine apartment, leaning against the doorframe to her bedroom. He had been here a few times since Rhea bought it a couple of years ago. Nothing much had changed except for a framed photo on the console table in her living room—it was from their photoshoot when they held their respective World titles. “You know, I’m touched that I’m the only one who has a photo in here,” he said.

“Cathy Kelley actually sent that as a gift,” Rhea pointed out. “She knew about my dilemma—that my apartment lacked character and didn’t feel like home.”

Damian picked up the picture to look at it before placing it back down. “Why me though?”

“Do you seriously have to ask? Priest, I look at you and I know I’m home. You’re like my comfort person,” Rhea said this while she was organizing a clean pile of clothes in her closet, so Damian couldn’t see how she looked.

“Okay, stop. Now you’re just making me blush.”

Rhea peeped out of the closet and laughed. “I live for it.”

Damian rolled his eyes and sat on the queen-sized bed, taking his shoes off in the process. “I think it’s the abstract art all around. Maybe if you change those to your favorite PLE covers, the place will start to feel more like you.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Rhea finished up in her closet before joining him on the bed. “Most of the stuff in here were brand new and came with the apartment. The couch is fine but I think it would look better in black.”

“You know, I saw these goth-looking dining chairs at a mall one time. You could get those, too.”

“I’ve already ordered a couple of stuff online that should be arriving tomorrow.”

“I’m guessing I’ll have to move and carry stuff around?”

Rhea grinned at him. “Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“As long as I’ve got a comfy place to sleep on.”

“I’d offer the pull-out of my couch, but I’m not so sure that’s going to hold you,” Rhea laughed. “We can share my bed.”

“Are you sure?”

“Geez, Priest. It’s not like this is the first time. Mine has enough space for us both.”

“I’m not so sure,” Damian raised an eyebrow. “Last time we shared a queen-sized bed, you smothered me in your sleep. You’re a clingy sleeper, Rips.”

“I shared a room with my sister growing up! Sometimes, when one of us had nightmares, we’d squeeze into one bed.”

“I get it,” he laughed. “As long as I get dibs on the bathroom first. You take forever.”

“Fine.”

That night, they stayed in for dinner and ordered Chinese takeout. Damian lounged on the couch, picking at a carton of honey-glazed chicken with his chopsticks. The glow of the TV flickered, paused on the title screen of another true crime documentary. Rhea sat cross-legged beside him, her carton of fried rice resting on her lap.

"You know," Damian said between bites, "these true crime shows are wild. It's always the quiet ones, right?"

Rhea smirked, pushing her hair behind her ear. "Exactly. It's never the loud, obvious guys. Makes you wonder about some of the people we know."

Damian eyed her deviously. "You're saying one of us might secretly be a mastermind?"

Rhea jabbed at a piece of chicken in his carton, stealing it effortlessly. "I'm just saying, if anyone could pull it off, it’d probably be you. Tall, dark, and brooding? Classic suspect material."

Damian raised an eyebrow, mock-offended. "Me? Nah, I’m too busy kicking people’s heads off in the ring. You, on the other hand, could definitely mastermind something. Nobody would expect it."

Rhea leaned back, grinning. "True, but I’d never leave evidence. I’m too smart for that."

They both laughed, the easy banter filling the room as they settled back into the comfort of dumplings and their favorite morbid obsession. Damian loved these simple moments with her. It was always how he imagined himself settling down—something he thought about more often now that he was in his 40s. But he pushed that idea to the very back of his mind. Those were thoughts he knew he should only keep to himself otherwise he might just upset or freak out Rhea.

“You know, I’m glad we did take the time off,” Rhea spoke again after a while. “Thanks for convincing me. I think I really needed it.”

“You dreading going back to work?” Damian asked.

“Not so much work, but just having to face everyone backstage again, you know? It kind of made me realize that I don’t have a lot of people to count on anymore. Except you, of course.”

Damian was silent for a while. “Is that why you’re entertaining the idea of Jey Uso?”

“What? No!” Rhea denied, laughing awkwardly. “I mean, I might have a little crush on the guy. But I don’t think it’s ever going to work. You see how different we are.”

“Sometimes, different is good,” Damian shrugged.

“So you’re saying I should go for it?”

“I’m not saying anything.”

Rhea gave him a deadpanned expression. “Then what are you saying?”

“I’m not saying anything!” Damian repeated, this time more defensively. “Look, Rips. You know I love you and you know that I’m always going to look out for you. But as far as your love life is concerned, I can’t tell you what to do.”

“Okay, okay. Take it easy,” Rhea sighed. “It’s just that sometimes, I look at Seth and Becky, or Miz and Maryse, or Jimmy and Naomi, and I gotta admit—I get jealous. I kind of want that for myself.”

Damian felt a knot in his stomach as he nodded. He felt exactly the same way, except he already had his eyes on the woman in front of him—something he’ll never, ever admit. “I think you’re still dealing with the trauma of Dom’s betrayal—and I get it,” Damian replied.

Rhea started picking on her food, suddenly feeling her anxiety shoot up. “I’m scared I’ll end up all alone,” she whispered, holding back the tears that were threatening to spill.

Damian’s features softened as he placed his food down and pulled her in for a hug. “I’m right here. You’re never going to be alone, Rips.”

Rhea let out a soft cry and hugged Damian tighter, burying her face in his chest.

Chapter Text

The following Monday arrived as Damian and Rhea flew in together from Florida for another episode of RAW. “Alright, I’ll see you later,” Damian kissed Rhea’s forehead after walking her to the glam area for hair and makeup before making his way to catering.

“He’s been awfully sweet with you,” Megaen, one of the hair and makeup artists who always did her looks, pointed out.

Rhea brushed it off. “Damian’s always looked out for me since NXT. I think we’re just extra inseparable these days because he’s all I’ve got and vice-versa.”

“Some of the girls have been taking notice of how he’s been with you—like something has changed.”

“Like who?”

“Well, Kayden Carter for one. I think she’s got an eye for Damian or something.”

Rhea’s jaw tensed but she said nothing. She didn’t have a problem with Kayden Carter per se, but she just didn’t like the idea of Damian getting into a relationship. Maybe because it would mean she’d have less time with him? Or maybe it was something else. As she scrolled through Instagram to get her mind off it, she heard the familiar voice of Jey Uso calling out to her.

“Hey, yo, what’s good, Ms. Ripley?”

Rhea could feel her cheeks burning up as she fought back a smile. “Hey,” she nodded at Jey.

“You never got back to me about Waffle House, yo.”

“Sorry,” Rhea said sheepishly. “I kind of kept busy last week. Damian and I escaped to Puerto Rico for a bit then went straight to fixing up my apartment.”

“It’s cool, it’s cool. You free tonight then?”

“Tonight?” Rhea repeated.

“Yeah, for real. There’s one just a few blocks from the hotel. Let’s do it.”

Megaen gave Rhea a knowing look as she continued to work on her foundation.

“Yeah, sure. Why not?” Rhea shrugged.

“Alright, cool then. I’ll meet you at the parking lot after the show,” Jey winked at her before skipping off.

“I see Jhea is happening,” Megaen grinned as soon as Jey was out of earshot. “It’s too bad though. I was kind of on Team Damian.”

“There are no teams or ships,” Rhea laughed. “They’re both just friends.”

“If you say so,” Megaen winked.

After getting her hair and makeup done, Rhea walked to catering to find Damian eating alone. “There you are,” he waved at her, motioning for her to join him. “I saved you the last salmon cream cheese bagel,” he said, putting the plate in front of Rhea. “Hunter also sent some last-minute changes to the script. We can go over them now.”

“Yeah, sure,” Rhea answered, slightly nervous about what she was going to say next. But why was she nervous exactly?

“So you know how Jey invited me to Waffle House last week?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, that’s kind of happening. Tonight.”

Damian looked up from his script, his expression hard to make out. “Oh yeah?”

“I know we had plans to stay in again and order Japanese so we could finish binge-watching Making a Murderer. Think we can reschedule another time?”

“Of course,” Damian shrugged, hiding his disappointment. “Go enjoy with Jey tonight. You two are gonna have a good time.”

“Are you gonna be okay?” Rhea asked, suddenly feeling guilty that she was canceling plans with her Terror Twin to go out with Jey.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me,” he said, trying his best to give a reassuring smile.

“Love you,” she placed a head on his shoulder, enjoying the bagel he saved for her.

—

Rhea Ripley and Jey Uso stepped into Waffle House, the familiar scent of sizzling bacon and coffee hitting them immediately. It was late—almost midnight—but the diner was still buzzing with life. A few truckers sat at the counter, and a group of college kids laughed loudly in a booth.

Jey flashed his signature grin and nodded at the waitress who welcomed them in with a knowing smile. “Let’s grab a booth there,” he said, gesturing towards a far corner.

Rhea followed, her eyes scanning the menu pinned above the grill. "I’m surprised to see so many people here this late," she said, sliding into the booth across from him.

Jey laughed. "Uce, Waffle House is made for late-night cravings. Best hash browns in the game."

The waitress came over and took their orders. Rhea opted for waffles and scrambled eggs, while Jey ordered his hash browns with a side of sausage.

As they waited, they bantered easily—joking about stuff and sharing stories from the road. When the food arrived, they dug in without hesitation. Rhea raised her eyebrows after her first bite, impressed. "Okay, I see why you love this place."

Jey leaned back, satisfied. "Told ya. Waffle House never misses."

The noise of the busy diner hummed around them, but Jey’s tone was casual and thoughtful. "You know," he started, "I gotta say, I really admire how tight you and Damian are."

Rhea looked up. "Oh yeah?"

Jey smiled. "I mean, not everyone in this business has that kind of bond, Uce. You two are solid. It’s rare to see what you guys have."

A small smile tugged at Rhea’s lips. "Damian’s the only one I can trust with anything."

Jey nodded. “The dude would literally take a bullet for you."

Rhea agreed. "I’d do the same. The love I have for that man is just,” she shrugged. “There are no words.”

Jey smiled at her, a genuine one. “You know—if there is something happening between you two, you can tell me. I’d be cool with it.”

“What?!” Rhea laughed awkwardly. “There’s nothing. We’re best friends.“

"Yo, I don’t mean to like, stir anything between you two. But you ever notice how he’s been actin’ different around you lately?" he asked, a smirk creeping up his face.

Rhea paused mid-bite. This was the second time today. "What do you mean?”

Jey chuckled, leaning in slightly. "Come on, Rhea. Dude’s been paying so much attention and has been extra, extra touchy with you. You really don’t see it?"

Rhea’s eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of amusement. "No way. He’s like a brother."

Jey shook his head, laughing. "Nah, Uce, trust me. That man is not lookin’ at you like a sister anymore."

She shook her head, finding the idea absurd. “If he was into me, he’d say something.”

Jey looked at her like he couldn’t believe her. “I think dude’s tryna play it cool, but I see it. He's probably afraid to mess things up.”

Rhea leaned back, processing Jey’s words. "Huh," she muttered, her eyes drifting off as she mulled over the idea.

"Look, Rhea,” Jey started, “I’d love to keep going on these Waffle House dates with you. But I also don’t want to be the reason things get complicated between you and Damian—not when you have something this special,” he said. “Just...maybe talk to him, see what’s up. Who knows? You might get a surprise."

Rhea could feel her cheeks burning as she thought about everything Jey had said. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t physically attracted to Damian. He wasn’t bad to look at—not at all. He smelled amazing, too. Even after his matches, the scent of his cologne always lingered, which made his hugs and touches all the more enjoyable. Perhaps there was a reason they gravitated towards each other—as if their souls were connected.

“I don’t think I can right now,” Rhea admitted softly. “Not after everything that’s been happening. I can’t lose Damian. He’s all I’ve got.”

“So…this grey area is something you’re willing to stay in?”

Rhea shrugged. “I don’t know how to answer that.”

“Listen, Uce. Like I told him—I know what it feels like to be alone in this industry. And I’ve nothing but huge respect for you both. So if ya’ll need a friend, yo boy is just here.”

Rhea smiled at him appreciatively. “Thanks. I’d love to make this a regular thing,” she said, taking another bite of her waffle.

Chapter Text

“How’d your date go?” Damian asked the next day during breakfast, his tone as chill as possible. They sat across each other at the hotel’s restaurant. Rhea helped herself to some yogurt and fruits while Damian had pancakes and bacon. They were scheduled to fly back to their respective homes that afternoon.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a date,” Rhea replied. “I don’t think he’s interested in me romantically. If anything, he offered us both his friendship.”

Damian was silent for a while, scrolling through his phone while taking a sip of his black coffee. He almost breathed a sigh of relief as he felt some weight lift off his shoulders. “We might make it a regular thing though—going to Waffle House. I didn’t realize I’d actually love the food there,” Rhea grinned. “It would be great if you could join us, too, you know?” she said, trying to make up for canceling on him the night before.

“Waffle House, huh?” Damian smirked. “I like the sound of that.”

She smiled at him, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. He held it and didn’t let go, which took Rhea back to what Jey said about Damian’s shift. “What are your plans this week?” she asked him, enjoying the feel of their hands clasped together.

“My brother is coming over so we’re hanging out until Wednesday or Thursday. I might have to fly to Smackdown for a dark match with Gunther.”

“What a workhorse,” Rhea teased.

“Good morning, Terror Twins!” Kayden Carter suddenly appeared and sat on the empty chair beside Damian. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said, her eyes locked on their hands.

Rhea slowly let go, continuing to eat her yogurt while forcing a smile at Kayden. It was too early in the morning to be socializing with the company’s party girl.

“Hey, Kayden,” Damian greeted.

“You okay to film some TikTok videos with me before checking out?” she asked him.

“Yeah, fine. I’ll meet you at 10.”

“Cool!” Kayden stood up and squeezed his shoulder. “Bye, Terror Twins!”

Rhea raised her cup of coffee while Damian nodded goodbye. When Kayden was far enough, Rhea was the first to speak. “Why do you still keep doing these TikTok videos with her, man?”

“She says I bring in the most views,” Damian said defensively, shrugging in the process.

“You know she has a crush on you, right?”

“Who said?”

“Locker room talk,” Rhea answered flatly.

“Locker room talk?” Damian repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Since when do you listen to locker room talk?”

“Doesn’t matter. Do you fancy her?”

“Psh, no. She’s not exactly my type.”

“What IS your type?” Rhea pushed.

“What’s with the sudden interest in my love life?” Damian pushed back.

“Okay, fine. Just drop it,” Rhea rolled her eyes.

They fell silent, finishing their breakfast as quickly as possible. Damian, feeling bad that he snapped a little, sighed after a while. “What about you? What are your plans for the week?” he asked, hoping to change the subject.

“Binge-watch some series, I guess.”

“Why don’t you invite Cathy Kelley over?”

“Nah, she’s been going out with this dude and I know they have plans this week.”

Damian looked at her with soft eyes. He really hated leaving her on her own. “Do you want to come with me to New York instead? Alex won’t mind if you join.”

“No, you guys go ahead. I’ll be fine,” Rhea assured him, though Damian didn’t miss the poignancy in her tone.

—

Rhea sat on the new couch in her apartment, remote control in hand as she browsed through some true crime shows on Netflix. It was only nine in the morning and she just had her breakfast. Maybe she could squeeze in a workout and do some groceries once she was in the mood. Suddenly, her phone started buzzing as she checked the screen. Why was Becky Lynch calling her?

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Becky greeted a little too cheerfully. “Sorry, I know this is random.”

“What’s up?”

“Listen, I know we’re not exactly the best of friends and I don’t want you to hate Damian for it. But he called Seth yesterday because he saw we were here in Orlando.”

Rhea sat up. “Oh my god. What did he do?”

“Well, we’re taking Roux to Disney World and we’re on our way to pick you up. Be ready in 20 minutes!”

Rhea was going to kill Damian. She speed dialed his number as soon as she ended the call with Becky. “Yo, what the fuck?” Rhea was fuming.

“Don’t hate me, Rips. I’m just looking out for you.”

“Priest, I don’t need you to plan playdates for me. I can get by on my own just fine.”

“I know that,” Damian sighed. “But you’re lonely, and I thought maybe hanging out with Seth, Becky, and their kid can provide a distraction.”

“You know I love you most days but today I hate you,” Rhea rolled her eyes and dropped call.

And that was how she found herself seated and looking completely out of place in her black tank top and jeans in Cinderella’s Royal Table wearing matching Minnie Mouse ears with Roux while waiting for lunch to be served.

“I appreciate you guys babysitting me,” Rhea said, watching as Seth sliced some chicken tenders for Roux. “I gave Damian an earful.”

Becky laughed. “Don’t kill the guy. I think it’s sweet what he’s doing for you.”

“The guy sounded genuinely distressed when he called,” Seth continued. “Plus, you’re kind of Roux’s favorite wrestler next to her mom, so it’s a win-win.”

It was true. Roux couldn’t stop staring at Rhea and giggling.

“How are you holding up?” Becky asked, concern in her eyes. “Things must be tough for you right now.”

Rhea shrugged. “I’ll live. Besides, I have Priest and he’s the only one I need.”

Seth and Becky glanced at each other knowingly. “You guys hang out a lot?” Seth asked.

“Yeah, we traveled together all the time even before the Judgment Day. But when the group was formed and I started seeing Dom, it felt like I had a real family here in America.”

Becky smiled at her. She could completely relate. “I get ya. It’s hard to be away from family for so long.”

“Yeah,” Rhea looked down. She could suddenly understand why Damian went out of his way to call Seth and Becky. There was something about their presence that comforted her—perhaps it was the innate nurturing aspect that came with being a parent. “Can I ask you guys a question?”

“Sure, what’s up?” Seth was all ears.

Rhea hesitated a bit and tried to find the right words. “How did you guys—transition? From being good friends to something…more?”

A smile played on both Seth and Becky’s lips, but not to tease Rhea. They knew exactly where she was coming from and it was nice that they could provide some insight with her dilemma. “Well,” Seth started, looking at Becky to ask if she wanted to answer.

“I think you should take this one,” Becky encouraged with a laugh.

“You know, I’ve known Bex for such a long time and we never really thought about the other one in that way. But we started hanging out more often and it just so happened that I was single, she was single. It felt nice but there was still that hesitation, ‘Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.’ But two weeks in, it was pretty obvious that there was no way we were going to avoid it. Things started to turn from there.”

Rhea furrowed her brows, clearly thinking about something. “What—made it change?”

“It wasn’t some big, sudden moment,” Becky chimed in. “Over time, we just started seeing each other differently. We trusted each other so much as friends, and that trust kind of grew into something more.”

“At first, it’s like, you don't want to mess up what you already have,” Seth said. “But then you realize that if there's anyone you can take that risk with, it’s your best friend. You already know each other so well.”

Rhea leaned back, forgetting about the food on her plate. “Didn’t you ever worry that it could ruin things? Like, if it didn't work out?”

“Of course, that thought crossed my mind. But we also knew the kind of bond we had. It wasn’t something fragile, you know?” Becky looked at Seth and smiled lovingly at him. “I think when you’re that close, it’s worth taking the risk. You just have to ask yourself—would it be worse to stay just friends and wonder ‘what if?’ forever?”

Seth grinned and nodded. “Yeah, what she said. Sometimes, the best relationships come from a deep friendship, because you already have the foundation, the mutual respect, and the understanding.”

“Daddy, I want to go ride the teacups now,” Roux interrupted.

“That’s my cue,” Seth stood up and picked up his daughter. “Look, Rhea, the way Damian protected you two weeks ago on RAW? That’s going down as one of the most babyface moves of the century. I guarantee you the Tumblr girls are screaming. That man is seriously in love.”

“Oh, were we talking about Damian?” Becky joked, earning a soft smack from Rhea. Her phone buzzed and she looked at it to find a text message from the devil himself.

How’s Disney? Do you still hate me? Lol.

A small smile formed on Rhea’s lips as she replied: Not as much anymore. Thanks for setting this up.

Chapter Text

It was nearly 9 on a Sunday evening and the airport was unusually quiet. The typical rush of travelers was replaced by a near-empty terminal, and the harsh glow of fluorescent lights flickered above. Rhea Ripley walked through the desolate corridors, her black hoodie pulled up. The hum of the cleaning crew echoed faintly, along with the occasional muffled announcement of the PA system. It was a familiar scene, one she had grown accustomed to over the years.

Her sneakers tapped against the polished tile floor in a quick but steady rhythm as she dragged her suitcase behind her. The stillness of the airport was unnerving, but it was more than that. Airports, to Rhea, always carried an uncomfortable weight. Something about them was inherently cold and impersonal—especially when she was traveling alone. They were places of transition, spaces where people came and went, but never stayed. And for Rhea, they always seemed to serve as a reminder of the goodbyes she had grown to hate.

She stepped through the automatic sliding doors into the night, the crisp air hitting her face. She paused for a moment at the curb, the dark sky overhead feeling just as empty as the terminal behind her. The distant sounds of the city barely reached her as she stood there, taking in the stillness. Airports always felt the same no matter how many times she passed through them—places where people disappeared, either leaving someone behind or being left behind themselves.

Rhea shifted the weight of her backpack, adjusting her grip on the handle of her suitcase. The memories of past departures lingered in her mind—saying goodbye to her family in Australia, watching friends head off to different shows, and the countless moments when no one had been there to see her off. She could never quite shake the feeling that airports, with their sterile atmosphere and constant movement, were designed to remind her of the goodbyes she tried so hard to forget.

She pulled out her phone to message Damian, who promised to pick her up in his rental car. Her flight was long, and all she wanted was to get to the hotel as quickly as possible. The cool night air hit her, and she spotted a few people scattered around waiting for their rides.

Before she could type, a small group of male fans approached her, excited and already pulling their phones to take a picture.

“Rhea! Yo, it’s Rhea Ripley! Can we get a selfie, please?”

Rhea looked up, forcing a tired smile. She knows they’re just fans, but after a long flight, she’s not in the mood. “Hey guys, not tonight. Just trying to get out of here.”

A second fan ignores her response, stepping closer with a phone in hand. “Aw, come on! Just one picture. We’ve been waiting out here for hours!”

Another fan grins and becomes insistent, saying that he’s her biggest fan and would love it if she could sign all the merch he brought. They start to close in, their voices blending together as they push for selfies and autographs. Rhea feels the space around her shrinking. Her heart begins to race, the noise of the airport fading into the background as her breathing quickens.

“Fuck,” she says to herself, feeling the onset of a panic attack. “No, not now. Not here...”

Her vision starts to blur and her hands tremble as her anxiety flares into full panic. The world around her spins, and she stumbles slightly, clutching at her chest. The fans continue pressing in, unaware of her distress, their voices growing louder in her ears, distorting.

“Come on, just one picture! You can’t be serious!”

Rhea’s breath becomes shallow, her chest tightens painfully as she struggles to focus. The walls are closing in fast, and everything around feels like it’s crashing down. Her vision narrows, and she’s on the verge of collapsing when a familiar, deep voice cuts through the chaos.

“Back off. Now.”

The group freezes, startled by the sudden shift in energy. Damian Priest strides forward, his tall frame imposing, his usually calm demeanor replaced by something fierce and protective. He moves in front of Rhea, his body a barrier between her and the crowd. His dark eyes flash with barely restrained anger, but his voice remains controlled.

Damian is firm as he repeats himself. “I said, step away. Give her some space.”

“We were just trying to get a picture, man, no harm—“

Damian cuts him off, his voice low and dangerous. “I don’t care what you were trying to do. She said no. Now leave her alone.”

The group, sensing Damian’s intensity, starts to back off, muttering half-hearted apologies as they scatter. Damian doesn’t take his eyes off them until they’re gone, his jaw clenched with frustration. As the tension dissolves, he turns to Rhea, who is still standing there, frozen, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

Damian, his voice now soft, which was a stark contrast to the sharp tone he used earlier, checks in on her. “Rhea, hey... it’s okay. I’m here.”

Rhea blinks, her vision still blurry and her chest still tight. Damian gently touches her arm, his touch grounding her in the present. She focuses on his face, the familiar calm in his eyes, and slowly, her breathing begins to steady.

With her voice shaky and barely audible, she tries to speak. “Sorry, I—I couldn’t...” her words trailed off, still trembling from the panic attack.

Damian takes her suitcase with one hand and places another around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. “You don’t have to explain. Just breathe, alright? I’ve got you. In and out, nice and slow.”

He guides her breathing, taking deep breaths with her until her chest begins to loosen and the world stops spinning. They stand there, close, the noise of the world around them fading as Damian stays right by her side, his presence steady and reassuring.

Exhaling deeply, still a little unsteady, Rhea shakes her head. “I didn’t… I don’t think I handled that so well.”

Damian gently cups her face to make sure she’s focused on him. “No, stop. Don’t blame yourself. You know those assholes crossed the line.”

Rhea stares at him, her heart still racing but for a different reason now. “Thank you. I don’t think I would have known what to do without you.”

Damian gives her a small smile, brushing a strand of hair out of her face and pressing a kiss to her forehead. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just holding her gaze, making sure she’s okay.

Rhea’s panic attacks happened more than usual when she was extra homesick and lonely, and it often ended with Damian and Dominik taking her out to dinner and watching a movie. With Dominik out of the picture, Damian wanted to continue the tradition—so he drove them to a movie house that was open late. The only films showing were Beetlejuice Beetlejuice and The Crow, so they went with the former.

After buying some popcorn and drinks, they sat side by side in the dimly lit, nearly-empty theater, the flickering lights of the movie casting playful shadows on their faces. They exchanged smirks and quiet laughter like the goofballs that they were, their usual tough exteriors softened by the chaos of the film.

As the scenes grew more absurd, Rhea leaned in closer, caught up in the energy of the movie. A particularly jumpy moment made her instinctively reach for Damian's hand, her fingers brushing his before she could pull back. To her surprise, Damian’s grip tightened around hers, warm and steady. Neither of them let go, and what started as an unintentional touch turned into an unspoken bond that lasted through the rest of the movie. They sat there, hands intertwined in the darkness, sharing something more than just the wild ride of Beetlejuice—a quiet connection neither was ready to acknowledge out loud, but both felt deeply.

As the credits rolled and the theater lights slowly brightened, Damian and Rhea remained still, their hands still clasped together. The buzz of those exiting and the rustle of popcorn bags filled the air, but they stayed seated, caught in the quiet bubble they had created. Neither said a word, their fingers loosely intertwined as if letting go would shatter the fragile moment they had shared. 

Rhea finally glanced over at Damian, her usual confident smirk replaced with something softer, more uncertain. He met her gaze, his dark eyes searching hers for some kind of confirmation, but he didn’t speak either. The silence between them was thick with things left unsaid.

Rhea gently squeezed his hand, her thumb tracing a small circle over his knuckles, a wordless acknowledgment of whatever had just passed between them. Damian smiled, a rare, genuine smile that seemed to lighten the tension. Without breaking the connection, he stood up, still holding her hand, and helped her to her feet.

"Come on," he said, his voice low. "Let’s get out of here."

Rhea nodded, not letting go as they made their way down the aisle together, their hands still linked in a silent promise. 

Chapter Text

Being at a busy branch of Waffle House on a late Monday night did little to break the thick silence between Damian Priest, Rhea Ripley, Jey Uso, and Kayden Carter.

The air was heavy with unspoken tension—Jey's fingers tapped rhythmically against his glass of sweet tea, while Rhea absentmindedly twirled a fork beside him, her expression unreadable. Across the table, Priest leaned back, eyes scanning the room as if searching for an escape, and Kayden shifted in her seat, biting her lip.

Earlier that evening, Rhea found herself sitting in hair and makeup across Kayden, who was preparing for a tag team match against Pure Fusion Collective. The shorter girl attempted small talk but ultimately, just wanted to gush about Damian. “Hey, you think he’s free tonight?”

“I guess?” Rhea raised an eyebrow, phone in hand to make it appear like she was preoccupied.

“You know, I think it’s cute how he calls you his little sister,” Kayden giggled. “Since you’re his best friend and all, you think you can help set us up? Maybe we can go on a double date or something. I heard you went out with Jey Uso last week.”

Oh my god, Rhea thought to herself. I can’t believe I’m having this conversation. “Damian and I don’t really meddle when it comes to each other’s love lives.”

“Oh, come on. It can just be four friends hanging out. Unless you have a problem with it? Are you, like, secretly in love with Damian or something?”

“What the fuck. No!” Rhea glared at her. “You know what? Fine. I’ll message Damian and Jey. We’ll meet you at Waffle House later after the show.”

And that was how the four of them ended up in a booth, the awkward silence almost consuming them.

Jey was the first to break it, attempting to start a conversation with Kayden. “So like, how short are you again?”

“Taller than five feet!” she replied, pretending to sucker punch him.

“You’re Filipina, right?” he asked. “I hear Filipina chicks are pretty dope in the kitchen.”

“I can cook a mean adobo,” Kayden shrugged.

“Okay, I need to taste the difference between a Puerto Rican adobo and a Filipino one,” Damian joined in.

“Come over my place sometime. I’ll cook for you,” Kayden smiled at him, which almost made Rhea roll her eyes.

“You’re just using that to bribe me to shoot more TikTok videos,” Damian chuckled, shaking his head.

“Hey, your fans eat those up like crazy so you’re welcome,” Kayden told him.

Jey could feel the tension radiating off of Rhea, who was stoic and silent the entire time, so he placed an arm around her to help ease things—something that Damian noticed right away.

“So how long have you guys been seeing each other?” Kayden asked, nodding towards Jey’s arm on Rhea’s shoulders.

Jey laughed and shook his head. “Yo boy Uce has always had a thing for Mami,” he looked at Rhea. “But I think I can speak for us both that Mami is a little preoccupied with something,” he winked at her. “Or someone,” he shrugged, glancing at Damian.

Rhea elbowed Jey hard in the ribs, causing him to let go and chuckle. Damian narrowed his eyes at Rhea, head exploding with questions. “What does that mean? Have you been seeing someone I don’t know about?”

“Jesus, Priest. I’m like with you 24/7. You would know if I was seeing someone.”

Turning to Jey, Rhea warned him with a piercing gaze, causing him to laugh sheepishly and shrink back in his seat.

Their food arrived shortly and Rhea only took a few bites of her pancakes before calling it a night. “ Look, you guys. This has been really fun,” she said, standing up. “But I’m exhausted so I think I’ll head back to the hotel early.”

“I’ll come with you,” Damian was about to stand up. “I drove us here.”

“No, you all stay,” Rhea shook her head. “I can Uber. I’m just gonna turn in early.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” Rhea answered, exasperated.

“Do you need my key card or did you bring yours?”

“I have mine,” Rhea waved him off before bidding the other two goodnight, muttering a half-hearted apology that she was ditching them when she was the one who set up the whole thing in the first place.

“You guys share a hotel room?” Kayden asked after Rhea left.

Damian shrugged. “It’s more practical. We always just request two beds,” he said. “It’s not a big deal.”

Kayden raised an eyebrow. “And you’re telling me that nothing has ever happened between you two?”

“She’s my best friend. We started on NXT together, we got called up together. We even attended our orientation together.”

“She’s like your work wife, dawg,” Jey pointed out.

“I just find it hard to believe that things have stayed platonic between you two all these years,” Kayden continued. “I mean, Rhea’s gorgeous. If you ask me who I’d pick to date among all the women in the company, she’d easily be my Top 3.”

“I hear ya, Uce,” Jey nodded with a smirk. “Ms. Ripley is mighty fine.”

Damian glared at Jey, who smiled at him knowingly. “Okay, can we take it down a notch?” he commanded.

“Whatever you say, Uce,” Jey grinned.

—

Damian slipped quietly into the dimly lit hotel room, the soft glow from outside casting gentle shadows. He paused when he saw Rhea curled up in her bed asleep, facing away from him, breathing slow and steady. Moving silently, he took a quick shower before emerging in boxers and a loose shirt.

For a moment, he watched Rhea sleep, captivated by the peacefulness of her face. Without thinking, he slid under the covers of her bed, forgetting about his own. He reached over and placed an arm around her, enjoying the feel of having the woman he loved in his arms.

Rhea stirred, suddenly feeling the weight of someone beside her. Inhaling the familiar scent, she turned around, cuddling closer against Damian’s chest, a content smile on her face. A wave of emotion hit him, stronger than anything he'd ever expected. It amazed him how much he cared for her, how much she meant to him. In the world they lived in—full of chaos, competition, and constant travel—she was his anchor. He never thought he'd find someone in the business who understood him, was in the same wavelength, and someone who could handle all his sides, both good and bad.

He loved the way she made him laugh—she was a goofball after all; he loved her mindset and the way she pushed him to be better, but more than that, he loved the comfort she provided and the quiet moments like this one. Moments where the world faded away, and it was just the two of them.

“ Eres todo para mi, ” he whispered, more to himself than to her. And in that moment, he knew—losing her was not an option. It just wasn’t.

Chapter Text

The week before Bad Blood was full of interviews and media appearances around Atlanta, Georgia. Damian and Rhea’s feud with The New Judgment Day was definitely the top story on RAW while Roman and Cody vs. The New Bloodline carried Smackdown. With all the promotional events they were attending left and right, and with Rhea and Damian usually appearing together, the four found themselves having lunch at one of the meeting rooms of Four Seasons before doing another set of interviews.

It was quiet at first—a little awkward since no one really knew what to talk about. Roman and Cody weren’t exactly on speaking terms—they were civil and only talked when they had to. Damian and Cody had previous beef with each other, so they weren’t speaking either, and Rhea never really spoke to either men.

Suddenly, Damian’s phone started ringing loudly—but to the tune of Taylor Swift’s, “It’s a Love Story.” That was all it took for Rhea to laugh hysterically, nearly falling off her seat that it made Roman and Cody jump a little.

“Wepa! Did you change my ring tone?!”

“Yep,” Rhea grinned, still tearing up from laughing. “I’ve been waiting all day for someone to call you so you could hear it.”

Damian rolled his eyes and took the call. It was one of Triple H’s executives informing him of a last-minute interview that was scheduled the next morning.

Rhea was still laughing when the call ended, and Damian could see the amused looks on Roman and Cody’s faces. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that Rhea was only 27—more than a decade younger than the three of them. But it often showed in the way she carried herself—and it was something he always found endearing.

“Interesting choice of ringtone,” Cody spoke, his voice playful. There was a twinkle in his eye as Rhea covered her mouth, still snickering.

“I don’t even know where you found the time to grab my phone and change it,” Damian shook his head at Rhea, tapping on his phone’s settings to change it back.

“When you fell asleep in the middle of American Conspiracy,” she told him.

Roman’s ears perked up. “Is it any good?” he asked in his low voice.

“Oh,” Rhea turned to look at him. “Uh, yeah. It’s been interesting so far. But I haven’t finished it yet.”

“My wife’s been watching Dancing for the Devil,” Cody chimed in.

“Ooooh, that’s a good one,” Rhea nodded.

“I’m in the middle of What Jennifer Did,” Damian shared.

“Hey, we were supposed to watch that together!” Rhea jokingly glared at him.

Roman chuckled at them both. “Have you guys seen American Nightmare?”

And that was how they found themselves talking about different true crime documentaries and why they were all so addicting. “There’s this podcast that I like listening to about the craziest unsolved mysteries from all over the world. Some of them are so insane, you wouldn’t believe they were actually true,” said Cody.

“Of course they would be, man. So many psychos out there,” Rhea answered. “In the airports alone, I can probably count like 5—easily.”

“Yeah, that last encounter was pretty bad,” Damian agreed. “A group of guys were ambushing her for pictures and autographs. She had a panic attack.”

“Jesus,” Cody shook his head.

“Yeah, thank God you were there,” Rhea leaned against Damian’s shoulder.

Cody smiled at the two of them, his eyes twinkling again. “You know, I admire your dynamics,” he said genuinely. “It’s refreshing to see.”

“Thanks, I guess?” Rhea said.

—

Rhea sat on one of the crates backstage, phone in hand as she waited for Damian to finish having his gear fixed. They were set to do an interview for the Bad Blood pre-show, something fans were looking forward to. As she scrolled through Instagram, someone loomed over in front, and the familiar sight of his white boots caused Rhea to growl.

“What do you want?” she asked, looking straight into the smug face of Dominik Mysterio.

“Nothing. Just came here to tell you that I can’t wait to see Liv retain her title against you.”

“We both know Liv can’t take me one-on-one. It’s why she needs you around.”

Dominik snickered, shaking his head. “You know, I’ve been hearing a lot of backstage talk that you and Damian are kind of a thing now.”

Rhea’s jaw tensed as Dominik continued, “Kind of makes me wonder who cheated on who first, huh?”

She could feel her ears burning as she jumped off the crate to face him. The tension between them was intense, and she felt the familiar rush of adrenaline pulsing through her veins. “I’m not a dirty scumbag like you, Dom. And unlike you, Priest was always a loyal friend.”

Dominik, unfazed, took a casual step back, laughing under his breath. “Tell me, is he enjoying my sloppy seconds?”

“Hey, yo, you better watch that mouth,” Jey Uso stepped in from out of nowhere, shoving Dominik lightly. “You might not have a match tonight but I have no problem taking this outside and beatin’ the shit out of you.”

Dominik raised his arms, backing off and walking away with a chuckle. When he was out of sight, Jey turned around to find Rhea still shaking. “You good?”

“Yeah, just—fucking angry.”

Jey placed a comforting arm around her, telling her that Dominik truly was a scumbag and that she shouldn’t be listening to him. “Don’t let him get to your head, Uce. Not with your match against Liv tonight.”

“What’s going on?” Damian suddenly appeared, ready and dressed for the pre-show interview. They had new matching jackets that Rhea couldn’t wait to wear.

“That shithead Dom happened, that’s what,” Jey shook his head and bumped fists with Damian. “I’m telling ya, he’s just trying to rile you up but don’t let it happen,” he urged Rhea. “Good luck with your matches tonight, aight?”

Damian nodded at Jey, who waved goodbye, before turning to look at Rhea. “What’d the stupid kid say?”

“He accused me of cheating on him first.”

“What?! With who?”

“With you.”

Damian’s eyes and jaw hardened, his fists clenched as he was ready to hit anything. “Hijo de puta. I’m gonna kill him,” he muttered.

“Stop,” Rhea shook her head. “Jey is right. He’s just trying to get into our heads before our matches tonight.”

Damian sighed, nodding in agreement. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I can’t wait to bring the brutality and take it all out on Liv.”

“That’s my girl.”

Rhea felt her heart skip a beat as she tried her best to hide the blush creeping up. There was something about the line that made her want to hear it over and over.

Chapter Text

Rhea held her title up high, posing for the camera with a cheeky grin on her face. The lights flashed, capturing every detail of the moment. Behind the photographer, Damian stood with his arms crossed, a proud smile stretching across his face as he watched her. It was late in the evening, and Bad Blood had just ended with both of them walking away victorious in their respective matches. The adrenaline still coursed through their veins, a sweet reminder of the brutality they brought to the new Judgment Day tonight. And it was only the beginning.

After a few more shots, Rhea sprinted over to Damian and threw her arms around him in a bear hug. He laughed, lifting her off the ground with ease. "Alright, we are definitely celebrating tonight!" Damian exclaimed, his voice full of excitement. "Where to?"

Rhea, still giddy from the night's events, pulled back and grinned. "Cathy mentioned there’s this rooftop bar about twenty minutes from here. Rose & Rye. You feel like partying tonight?"

Damian's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Hell yeah, I feel like partying tonight!" He draped an arm around her shoulder as they walked toward the locker rooms to shower and get dressed.

The rooftop bar was a far cry from the usual rowdy bars they frequented. Rhea ditched her usual edgy, all-black outfit for a slip dress in satin red, a decision that had made Damian's eyebrows shoot up furtively when she first walked out. He, too, had broken away from his ring gear, opting for a white polo, ripped jeans, and a baseball cap worn backward. The contrast between their casual looks and their usual in-right gear added a layer of excitement. It felt new, different—a night that marked a change in more ways than one.

As they arrived at Rose & Rye, the place was buzzing. It was packed, but not chaotic. The rooftop was dotted with intimate booths and a bar that overlooked the glowing city skyline.

"Cathy Kelley!" Rhea called out, spotting the familiar brunette seated in one of the outdoor booths. Cathy waved them over eagerly. Beside her were two more familiar faces—Kevin Owens and Bayley, already mid-conversation and sipping on drinks.

“Okay, so I figured since we’re all babyfaces now, you guys wouldn’t mind hanging out with each other,” Cathy said sheepishly, gesturing to the empty seats beside her. Damian laughed as they slid into the booth.

“I don’t care. I’m just here to make sure you girls get home okay,” Kevin shrugged, taking a swig of his beer.

“I respect that,” Damian nodded. Kevin was always known to look after everyone. Even Rhea could attest to it when she once encountered a group of paparazzi at the airport. Kevin checked on her and made sure she was okay. He may come across as brash and intimidating with his tough exterior, sharp wit, and no-nonsense attitude in the ring, but beneath the rugged persona was someone who genuinely cared for the people around him.

“I’m so excited to hang out with you girls again!” Cathy gushed. “I have so much to update you about,” she said, referring to the cute guy she was dating named Alex.

“Yep, that’s our cue,” Kevin tapped Damian on the shoulder and motioned for him to come along. “You girls want any drinks? Rhea?”

“Oh, I’ll have a Jameson on the rocks,” Rhea requested.

“On it,” Damian chuckled. “What about you ladies?” he asked Cathy and Bayley.

“I’m good,” Bayley declined politely, taking a sip of her still-full glass of mojito while Cathy asked for another white sangria.

Kevin and Damian made their way over to the bar, cutting through the crowd with ease as they towered over most patrons. Rose & Rye was a stylish oasis perched high above the city, with a breathtaking view stretching out for miles. Twinkling string lights hung above, casting a soft, warm glow over the intimate seating areas, while a DJ spun mellow beats that mixed with the hum of conversation. Lush greenery lined the edges of the terrace, creating a serene contrast to the bustling city below. Kevin leaned against the sleek marble bar to order their drinks while Damian took a seat beside him on one of the stools.

“You getting anything?” Kevin asked him.

“Uh, yeah. Just a beer,” Damian answered. After the bartender took their orders, the two men waited in silence. “Ya know, my wife’s a fan of the Terror Twins,” Kevin started. “Congrats to you both tonight.”

“Ha, thanks,” Damian said. “Rhea was pretty amazing tonight.”

Kevin leaned in a little, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Did you know that Cathy ships you guys?” he asked, amused. “Don’t tell her I said that though. We might save that conversation for another episode of The OK Show.”

Damian blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Yep," Kevin chuckled. "She’s got this whole theory about how you two are going to end up with each other eventually.”

Damian scratched the back of his neck, trying to laugh it off. “Why would Cathy ship us? We’re just—”

“Okay, I may have lied,” Kevin interrupted, still clearly amused by Damian’s discomfort. “My wife IS a fan. But it’s because she ships you guys, too.”

Damian shifted uncomfortably, tapping his foot on the barstool and hoping for the drinks to arrive already. He could use a bit of alcohol in his system right now—or not. Was it a good idea to be drinking, knowing that his emotions might get the best of him?

“Listen, man. I get it," Kevin continued. "You two probably don’t wanna mess with your current dynamic. But you should see how the whole locker room is secretly rooting for you two. Well, maybe except Kayden.”

Damian let out a surprised laugh. “Seriously? That’s insane. I didn't even know the locker room talked about us.”

Kevin smirked as their drinks arrived. “Cody seems to be the number one enabler. He’s convinced you two are a thing. Anyway,” they started walking back to the table, drinks in hand. “I hope it all works out,” he grinned. “Because I’m part of that population, too.”

Damian shook his head. His mind was racing. It was unbelievable how the whole locker room was suddenly rooting for them, and yet, here he was, pretending like it didn’t matter. But it did. So much more than he was ready to deal with. Shaking his head, he took a giant swig of his beer. Was he ready to take the risk and admit his feelings for Rhea?