a/n: this is for briesus on tumblr whose otp is roman reigns and brie bella, who i love too. i haven't written them in a long time, but inspiration struck when i was listening to ed sheeran's song "photograph."

~*~photo proofed kisses i'll remember so well~*~

pairing: roman reigns/brie bella

summary: ~*~we made these memories for ourselves~*~/ some moments don't play out in front of the cameras, even for roman reigns and brie bella

rating: t

we keep this love in a photograph

we made these memories for ourselves

where our eyes are never closing

hearts are never broken

time's forever frozen still

"photograph" - ed sheeran

i

so you can keep me/inside the pocket/of your ripped jeans

"Roman," Trying to be chastising and failing miserably as lush lips trail kisses down the inviting swan-like slope of her neck. "Seriously..." Her chocolate eyes narrow. "We're supposed to be filming." A weak protest, her knees already giving way and he knows, judging by those lips curving into a smirk against her skin.

"Fuck those stupid ass cameras." Growled as teeth join the assault on her senses. "These producers are lucky I ain't breakin' 'em one by one. You're lucky, too," Grey eyes flash with heat, and a shudder ripples through her lithe frame, pink manicured nails clutching at broad shoulders just to stand upright. "Lucky I didn't just bend you over my knee in front of the whole crew and get this ass," He gives said body part a harsh squeeze and then an even harsher slap, making her moan. "Nice and red. We're movin' into our house and you show up in these damn jeans and expect me to keep my hands to myself?"

One of the many rips in the white washed denim is in the left pocket, revealing a sliver of skin, which he pinches and her head rolls back, offering more of her neck.

Her brain is practically mush as he rips the flimsy material of her peasant top, leaving her in just the strapless bra and jeans. Her nipples instantly grow hard, straining for his mouth and hands, when he drops to his knees. Through hooded eyes, glazed over with lust, she feels her core throb at the sight he creates, between her legs, licking his lips and looking at her – pure heat in those steel orbs – like she's a prize.

A few quick slaps to her ass and her fingers, which are shaking, thread through the thickness of his raven hair and gripping tight, desperate to stay standing as her heart pounds furiously.

She expects him to pop open the button of her jeans and to hear herself warn him not to rip yet another pair of her panties, but instead he says – obvious smile in his tone – which is playful and warm, not domineering like she expects, "What's this?"

Blinking as the haze of lust fades, bringing her back to a grounded reality, her cheeks blush furiously from seeing the item dangling from his fingertips. Quickly, she lunges for it, but he holds it out of her reach, rising to his full height. Huffing furiously, she jumps three and four times as he laughs, steel turning into a twinkling silver while those lush lips form the ultimate shit-eating grin.

"Give it back!" She stomps her foot, posy lips pouting. "Rooooooooman!" She whines.

"You keep this with you all the time?" No more taunting, his voice soft, as he moves the picture between his fingers.

"Maybe."

"Why this one?"

She sighs, fingers sifting through her flowing tresses, a nervous habit that makes his heart lift in his chest. Her cheeks aren't flushing furiously, but they've dimmed to an attractive shade of rose, complimenting the almond of her skin perfectly. He swallows hard, her simple beauty catching him unaware, somehow, still even after all this time.

She reaches for the picture; it's of him sitting on the porch of his childhood home, signature aviators covering his eyes, and tossing a football back and forth. Her thumb traces the picture before looking back at him and saying softly, "You looked, I don't know, like you. Not Roman Reigns, The Powerhouse, everyone sees on tv or at house shoes, but you."

A shaky breath tumbles off her lips as she reaches up, pushing thick strands behind his ear, then cupping the hard edge of his chiseled jaw as she brings their foreheads together. "You looked like Leati. The person that I'm starting a life with, that I love with my whole heart."

ii

i swear it will get easier/remember that with every piece of ya

Brie watched, eyes widening with horror, as Seth sprinted toward the ring from the ramp, briefcase held high. Her hand was clasped over her mouth as she watched him charge inside the squared circle. No, she thought, her heart lodged in her throat, this was Roman's moment, this was his time. He had put on the match of his life against Brock and was supposed to walk out WWE World Heavyweight Champion.

Instead, there was Seth, waving the title around at the top of the ramp. And Roman... Roman was laying in a heap in the middle of the ring, utter devastation on his handsome face, as he watched the display at the ramp.

Her heart dropped, not just to her toes, but fell through the floor.

She knew the cameras and microphones would be swarming, looking to get reactions from her and from Roman, but she didn't give a damn about Total Divas right now. All that mattered was Roman, and she had to get to him, had to let him know he may have lost the title but that he was still a champion to her.

She didn't know how, but as she saw him limping through the curtains, his broad shoulders slumped and chiseled jaw stained from dried blood, he looked more handsome than ever.

With tender fingers, she wiped the blood away and gave him a soft smile. "You survived Suplex City."

His lush lips curled into a cocky grin, "You're damn right I did, babygirl."

"If it wasn't for Cruella," Her nose wrinkles in disgust and he lets out hearty laughter, rumbling from deep in his chest. "You would be Champion right now. I should missile drop kick him in the balls for taking your title. You had Lesnar. Just one more spear or Superman punch..."

She's cut off with a searing, passionate kiss to her lips. Everything fades and it's almost like going back in time to when she first felt his lips on hers. Inside the Banker's Life Fieldhouse in Indianapolis when he cornered her and told her he couldn't stop thinking about her and how bad he wanted her. That same fire ignites in her veins and her heart pounds just as furiously, like, it's trying to break free from her chest cavity.

They break apart only when their lungs burn for the sweet relief of air and looking at him through the fringe of her lengthy lashes, she can see it's all caught up to him. The reality of putting on the match of his career against someone like Brock and not walking out as Champion because suddenly the match was turned into a triple threat, and she swallows thickly, willing her tears to be kept at bay.

He doesn't need to see her cry. He needs her to be the strong one this time.

"Ziggler may have been in the Intercontinental match, but you stole the show. You showed the world – not just the kind of wrestler you are – but the kind of man. You took Brock Lesnar's best and you gave it right back to him and then some. Rollins got lucky, but his luck will run out, and you'll get what's yours."

iii

loving can heal/loving can mend your soul/that's the only thing i know (know)

Brie was sure Patti knew why she suggested JoJo have a sleepover with her grandparents after Mania was over. Just like she was sure her cheeks were bright red as she urged the little girl to go, saying Daddy needed rest after such a big day. Thankfully, Patti hadn't said anything, which made her glad she didn't suggest Nikki watch JoJo, like she originally planned to do.

It felt silly, feeling nervous, as she fluffed her hair and pivoted back and forth, in front of the bathroom mirror.

The last thing Roman cared about was what she wore to bed or what her hair looked like. Besides, he always told her she looked her best, drowning in one of his t-shirts with no panties underneath, not in expensive lace and ruffles. But she had bought the lingerie a week before Mania, knowing deep down, her man was going to be WWE World Heavyweight Champion.

And yeah, she could wear it some other time, but even though he didn't win the title, she couldn't imagine wearing it any time but right here and right now.

"Are you and Nikki pulling Twin Magic on me and Dean right now?" Roman's voice carried into the bathroom from the bedroom and Brie scolded herself, inwardly, for taking forever. Cursing under her breath, she briefly wished she was more like her sister, never shy and could just strut into the bedroom in the lace and tiny panties. Fluffing her hair again, she called out, hoping he couldn't hear the strain in her voice, "Just a minute!"

"Brianna..." Shit, she groaned in her head, obviously he had heard the strain. The doorknob turning didn't register until it was too late and she could see his impressive frame filling the doorway. "Fuck," He cursed, rumbling bass, nothing but a primal growl.

"You know," His every inch is pressed against her now, the heat coming off his body in waves, warming her from the inside out. "I didn't win, don't you?" Husky and low as broad fingers slide along the cut-outs of the lacy lingerie.

"You're still my Champion," Smooth and silky as slender hands slide from the broadness of his shoulders to the sculpt of his abs, ending just above the waistband of his boxer briefs. "Doesn't that," Teasing as she rises to the tips of her toes, teeth nibbling at his lush bottom lip. "Count for something? Cause I sure think it counts for a hell of a lot."

It's not unusual for Brie to take charge, to straddle Roman's waist, and strip him bare before she's lost even an article of clothing, but the rarity of it, never fails to make his veins simmer with lust and all of his blood rush south. Her lips are everywhere, taking special care of the tribal tattoo that runs along from his right shoulder down to his wrist and encompassing his entire pectoral, not sparing an inch of the design. Her mouth takes him in, warm and inviting, and he's sure everyone will be teasing them tomorrow because – fuck – he can't hold back with her pleasing him like this.

The dusty almond of the lace matches her skin perfectly and it's almost like she's naked, even though she's wearing the corset and the garters, and it makes the picture she creates – perfectly settled between his legs – all the more erotic. There's only the sound of blood rushing through his ears and it's punctuated by her soft moans, as she takes him deeper and deeper still, until he can't take it any more.

"Hey," Warm just like having her mouth on him was moments before.

"Hey," He returns, groaning as she arches, lithe frame sliding against his own. The feel of the lace – rough but silky – reminds him she's still in her little outfit, and that's got to change. He wants nothing more than to rip it, but going against his every instinct, he undoes the ties slowly and with precision. When it falls away and her upper body is bare, he takes his time, sliding the tiny panties down the length of her legs and he swallows, his heart thundering his chest.

Every time, it's like the first time all over again, seeing her underneath him; all almond skin with perfectly rose tipped nipples and the pink of her moist center begging for his attention. It's a wonder he can breathe.

"Somebody got busy last night. Bow-chicka-wow-wow." Sings Nikki as they all ride down to the lobby the next morning and Roman can't stop from laughing as Brie, cheeks flaming red, buries her head in his chest.

iv

hearing you whisper through the phone/"wait for me to come home"

"Daddy, Brie and Josie and I had a tea party!" Roman laughs at JoJo's excited chatter as her cherubic face fills the screen of his phone. There's a crown of flowers around her head, obviously, Brie's doing. "And we made flower crowns! Josie wanted to eat hers, but we got a picture before she could! Do you think I look as pretty as Brie?"

"Of course you do," Rolls off his tongue easily, but there's a pang in his gut. Every day his little girl's getting bigger and stronger, smarter and more adventurous, ready to take on the world. She's growing up so fast. Too fast and he feels his heart twinge for missing out on the mundane every day things.

"I miss you..." Soft and small sounding, like, the two year old who used to beg to sleep with him whenever he was home, not the six year old that groans when he swings her over his shoulder and kisses her all over.

The twinge is more like an ache and he sighs heavily. "I miss you, too, babygirl."

"When do you come home?"

"In two days, but I wish it was sooner. Tell Brie to make me a crown so I can join your tea party with her and Josie. I don't want to be left out." He needs to brighten the mood, to see his babygirl's toothy smile and those sable eyes light up. She giggles, shaking her head emphatically, "Crowns are for girls, Daddy," and his heart is lifted, ever so slightly.

"We'll see what Brie has to say about that. Give her the phone. Little girls are supposed to be in as snug as a bug in a rug in their beds right now."

"Daddy..."

"Joelle..."

Brie laughs as JoJo hands her, her phone pouting and grumbling all the way up the stairs. Her heart skips a beat at Roman's face filling the screen. She flops down on the couch, sighing heavily, as he murmurs, "JoJo's not the only one who misses you." Her finger traces the familiar hard edge of his chiseled jaw, wishing she felt skin and not the flatness of a screen.

Fingers push through raven tresses and Brie fights back a moan, seeing his biceps bunch and flex from the mundane action. "Our schedules will sync up once I come home in two days." He reminds her, his smile soft and reassuring.

"I know. It's just..." A huff of air and a pout crossing posy lips. "Not fair."

"Just wait, I'll be home before you know it."

v

inside these pages you just hold me/and i won't ever let you go

Anyone who watched Total Divas expected – like Nattie and Naomi – that Brie would get married on camera. Except, she didn't. The only part of the wedding that was filmed, was the reception.

"The wedding, it wasn't mean for anyone except myself and Roman and our families," Brie, practically, glowed as she spoke to the producers, from the interview room that was set up in a near by bungalow of the beach side hotel Roman had rented out for the wedding. "No one else needed to hear us promise forever to each other or that we would always love each other, no matter what life threw at us. All of those things – those very special and personal things – are just for us, and they should be. Those moments should be treated like precious gems, they are, something to be treasured and cherished. Not something to be gawked at or acted out for the world."

"Vince was pissed as hell," Roman laughed, briefly glancing at the silver band on his left ring finger. "The ratings," He made his voice gruff and over the top, imitating WWE's infamous chairman. "But who gives a fuck," He knew the censors were cringing. "About ratings. The most important people saw me promise to give everything to the woman I love. I don't need people I'll never meet or know to see that. It's sacred and we made sure it stayed that way."

"We did, didn't we?" Soft but proud as his lap was suddenly full of Brie.

"Told you, I'd give you everything you ever wanted." He reminded, low and husky, lips brushing – sweetly – over hers.

"Now," She grabbed for his hand, laying it flat against her stomach, nipping at his bottom lip before breaking their kiss and staring intently into his grey eyes. "I have to do that for you."

And instead of smashing cake into each other's faces, they each took a piece and smashed it into the camera lens, laughing as they sprinted from the interview room.

note: this is a link to the lingerie brie wears in drabble three which you can find at victoria's secret's website under the heading lingerie and then the sub-heading garters and slips it's called the embroidered merrywidow