The Darkest Part Before Dawn
Roman has been feeding on the Reader for longer than she can remember. How could she? He wipes her memory of it after every session. But the bite of a vampire is starting to take its toll. She is at risk of becoming someone else… something else.
Pairing: Vampire!Roman Reigns x Wrestler!Reader
Warnings/Promises: hypnosis, CW Blood (it is a vampire fic), forced blood consumption, SMUT, CNC, somnophilia (of a sort)
Word Count: 2270
Note: Oops; this was supposed to be a drabble finale of this accidental series. Oh well. Happy Halloween!
Part 1: Taste of Terror
Part 2: Nightmares and Consequences
You were different. Everybody was saying so. Nobody could pin down when it started, nor could you, but something had changed. When you had come into wrestling, you were borderline shy, but with a quick wit and a sharp tongue. Those attributes got you into trouble aplenty. Which worked out, all things considered. They drew you into several feuds and plenty of opportunities.
Then, shortly into your career, you got a title shot.
Your abysmal loss caught the attention of the Tribal Chief.
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
Roman Reigns Masterlist
