#merry chrismuts

[aladio-milhomes]

Fifth prompt of the December Holiday challenge! 🧣 – matching clothing 🔍 – keeping somebody under surveillance

Happy holidays, if you celebrate 🎁

[shipthecarsons]

Summary

Jackson Lamb gives Catherine Standish a Christmas present (in late January.)

Prompts

🎅🏼 ugly Christmas clothing

🎁 holiday shopping

📋 deciding who has been the naughtiest...

[toxiicpop]

here y'all go, a polished signup link all shiny & new! tell yr friends!

signups close 31 oct 2022 & confirmation of finished fic is due 25 nov 2022 to ensure we all have a very merry chrismuts. also- are you interested in even more of a challenge? clicky to find out more

[retro-rezz-the-est]

Holiday Spirit (Drew McIntyre/Reader smut)

Summary: Drew hates the holidays. Reader loves them. Reader plans to try and make him love them as much as she does, and maybe some feelings will be discovered along the way...

Word Count: 11,566 (jfc somebody help me this is my longest fic to date)

Warnings: filler, endless piles of mutual pining, oral (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), multiple orgasms, FLUFF, and did I mention that there’s a shit ton of filler in here already?

(A/N: my entry for Day 5 of @toxiicpop’s 25 Days of Chrismuts this year! Merry Christmas and happy holidays to everyone!)

(A/N #2: I may make a part 2 to this if people want to see that lol ^^;)

(Y/n): your name

“Hey, Drew, look! It’s finally snowing!”

Your smile grew with each passing second as the two of you drew closer to the PC that Saturday morning. The sight of snowflakes falling slowly and hitting the ground below always filled you with a sense of childish joy you only felt around this time of year and even though the sky was dull and grey, your eyes sparkled like diamonds.

You pressed your face against the chilly window, wiping away the fog from the glass with your gloves as Drew looks on from the driver’s seat and scoffs. Everything always looked so pure to you during the winter time: snow covering every inch of the earth, the swift brisk of the coming holiday season flowing through the air, sitting by a warm fire and watching the world go by at night with someone you love…

...this was what you loved the most, and it was only getting started from here.

He rolled his eyes at your enthusiasm, taking his eyes off of you as he pulled the rental into the PC’s parking lot. Right when he parked the car and unlocked the doors, you bounded outside like an eager puppy to greet the cold morning and squealed. With your eyes wide and full of excitement, you giggled as you saw the footprints your feet made in the snow.

Drew was sure that everyone inside could hear how happy you were at the season’s first snow, seeing as you were completely busy with making random snow angels in the parking lot while he exited the rental and moved to the trunk to get your gym bags. He shivered and wrapped his scarf around his neck, you still flat on your back on the ground looking completely blissed out

“Join me down here, Drew! It’s getting lonely here,” you said to him over the rush of the wind, him choosing to ignore you and shutting the trunk with a grunt.

“You’re gonna get hypothermia like that if ya don’t get inside, (Y/n). Ya know that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but look around! Even the dullest of places look like a winter wonderland!”

You got up and looked for a fresh spot to mark with a snow angel, finding a large mound and jumping into it not far from the car. You stuck out your tongue to catch the falling snowflakes and you couldn’t seem to feel the chill of the outside through your leggings but he rolled his eyes again, turning away from you and starting to walk towards the PC’s doors.

“If ya wanna stay out here and freeze half to death, then fine. Don’t call me when you’re stuck at home with a hell of a fever.”

You sat up, shaking the snow and the frost out of your hat and hair. “Um, excuse me? As your best and only friend, you are obligated by law to stay by my side no matter...what?”

You looked around the near empty lot, the falling snow blurring the world around you just a bit. All you could see were you and the few cars that littered the space in front of the PC, but no Drew in sight. You eventually saw him at the building’s doors with both of your gym bags over his shoulders and pushing the door open for himself, turning to look at you before letting himself inside.

“Hey, wait up!” you yelled, fixing your hat and your gloves and standing to run after him, hearing him chuckle under his breath as you manage to catch the door before it closes on you. 

The audacity of this dude! you think, feeling a shiver run down your spine as you glare down the Scotsman and follow him inside to be greeted by walls lined with shiny paper stars, Christmas lights and garlands.

Various Superstars passed you by and wished you both happy holidays, and the look of distaste was clear on Drew’s face when you entered the gym itself and heard the music softly playing from the speakers above. You sighed when you reached the lockers and began to pull of your large jacket and your gloves.

“Don’t you just love this, Drew?”

“What’re ya talkin’ about, lass? The snow or in here?”

“All of it!,” you reply, taking your bag from his shoulder and tugging down your gym shirt. “Everyone and everything’s so filled with the holiday spirit and you can see it everywhere you go! Everything’s so festive and fun and…! I just love it!”

“Eh, not a fan of all this Christmas crap,” he told you as he hung up his jacket and turned to you. “I find it all kind of annoying, if I’m being honest.”

Wait, what?!

“Huh? How could you not like Christmas?! It’s literally the best holiday of the year!”

“Oh, come on,” he retorted, slinging his bag back over his shoulder and heading over to one of the empty training rings nearby. “Everythin’s so in your face and so flashy, and those annoying fuckin’ songs make me want to drive a nail through my damn skull.”

You continued to stare at him slack jawed as you followed him to the ring, climbing up the stairs and under the ring ropes. Is he for real?

“And besides, I have no one to even-”

“To what? No one to what, Drew?”

He stayed silent, choosing to cross his arms and eye you dangerously. “Nothing. I just don’t like it, okay? Just leave it at that an’ stop pressin’ me about it.”

“Hey, Drew, I was only asking as your friend. I’m not really that mad about it…”

“It’s alright, lass,” he said, sighing deeply and hopping up to roll underneath the ropes. “I jus’ don’t have any good memories that come with the winter season, is all.”

He got up and his chest pressed against yours, pushing you against the turnbuckle and bracing his arms on the ropes next to you. “Ya know you’re my friend, right, (Y/n)?”

“I-I know, Drew,” you told him as you felt a flush rise up your neck and hit your ears. “And as your best friend, I’m gonna make sure you have the best holiday season you’ve ever had.”

You pointed your finger at him, shoving it into his chest and pushing him back as you looked into his rolling eyes. “That’s my goal right now. And besides, with Christmas right around the corner, I can plan the perfect holiday journey for us to endure!”

Drew palmed his forehead and shook his head, smirking slightly when he saw how you lit up and how your mind started to immediately get to work on your elaborate plan.

It was almost kinda cute…

Dear God, what’d I get myself into?

“Now come on, you big lug,” you said, snapping him out of his slight daze. “I did promise you when you picked me up that I would kick your ass once we got here. But, I’m not gonna let me finally beating you distract me from my plan!”

His eyes darkened and he crouched in his corner, getting ready to spar. “We’ll see about that one, (Y/n).”

                                              ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your body still hurt from sparring with Drew the other day, and you kept groaning as you felt your back continuously creak and your joints pop from how hard he pushed you. You couldn’t help yourself, you were trying to focus on multiple things at once!

“Ha! Ya call that a pin, (Y/n)! I’ve seen jobbers do better than that!”

“Excuse me, sir,” you huffed, pushing yourself off of the ground after he shoved you off and into the ropes, “ but I had to deal with pinning your top heavy ass for a whole three seconds! Give me some credit here!”

He laughed at your complaint, rolling over and pushing himself up to help you out. “Ya have to learn how to pin opponents a hell of a lot bigger than you, lass. Not everyone ya face is gonna be a skinny twig like yourself.”

You gasped as you furrowed your brows and clenched your fists. “Skinny? Twig?! I’ll show you what this “twig” is made up of, Drew!” 

Reaching forward, you shoved him as hard as you could, only making him stumble back a few steps. He laughed again and puffed out his chest to make himself seem even larger. Bouncing back against the ropes, you launched yourself in his direction and ducked as he crouched and held his arms out to catch you.

Catch you with his strong arms…his thick, warm arms that you love wrapped around you to hold and comfort you whenever you’re sad…arms that shine under the stage lights whenever he’s out competing in the ring…

Your mind began to drift further and further until you were hoisted into the air by the Scotsman and slammed onto the mat back first, the shock running up your spine and shaking you to your core as his grip remained tight on your waist. You felt the air leaving your lungs at that moment, from how hard you hit the mat to how close Drew’s body was to yours.

“Are ya alright, lass? I didn’t mean t’ slam ya down that hard. Is your head okay?”

You opened your eyes and pressed a hand to your forehead, trying to calm the pounding from inside as you felt the heat of his palm rest against your neck. His chest was nearly touching your own, his body heat seeming to surround you like a calming aura.

You were barely registering his question, more confused about how you let yourself get distracted by him as he grabbed your other hand and pulled you up. “No, I-I’m fine, Drew. just lost my focus a bit.” Your face was probably beaming red as you spoke, but he paid no mind to it.

“Well, if you’re sure,” he says as he moves to the opposite side of the ring. You run a hand over your face and sigh, quickly darting your eyes away from his when he meets your gaze.

Don’t think about his arms, don’t think about him, just concentrate on pinning him, you repeated in your mind. The two of you began circling each other again, but the thought of him and his body being so close to yours kept slipping into your head…

“Hello, (Y/n)? We’re talking to you here!”

Your eyes snapped open and you jerked forward, bumping against your table and nearly spilling your coffee onto the floor. “Wha-? What happened?”

“Um, what happened is that you spaced out again!” Peyton yelled, crossing her arms and huffing. “For, like, the third time already!”

“Yeah, what gives, (Y/n)?” Billie added, crossing her arms as well.

The three of you sat in the arena’s backstage in catering awaiting your upcoming matches, chatting about the daily gossip and mentally preparing to go out into the Universe as was your ritual since you first arrived on Raw. The two Australian women stared daggers into your skin as you began sweating bullets in front of them.

“N-Nothing, guys. I’ve just been thinking about a small problem I’ve been having lately, that’s it,” you said as you readjusted yourself and moved to take a sip of your drink.

“Well, is that “small problem” a certain broad chested, intimidating, six-foot-five Scottish man we’ve been seeing you hanging out with for the past few months?”

Cup halfway to your mouth, you stared at the two women slack jawed and eyes wide. They had their elbows on the table with their hands folded underneath their chins, eagerly waiting for any gossip and juicy details about your relationship with the Scottish Psychopath.

“I’ve told you this many a time before, ladies, me and Drew are just friends. We’ve known each other for years now, and I’m basically like a little sister to him. Nothing more, nothing less. So don’t get your hopes up, you’re not getting any tea today.”

They both collectively pouted, Peyton reaching for her makeup bag to reapply her lipstick and Billie continuing to press you about the topic at hand.

“Excuse me? The two of you are not ‘just friends’! Have you seen the way he looks at you, (Y/n)?! That man’s more in love with you than anything!”

You had to admit, you did sort of feel something for the man when the two of you first met and became friends when you signed with WWE a few months back but if you told them, you’d never hear the end of it. Just thinking about how he treated you differently than the other talent and how he got on them for hazing you sped up your incoming friendship immensely. He was always so kind to you, so sweet, so protective…

Your mind started to wander again and you shook your head to clear your thoughts, rolling your eyes at the black haired Australian and setting down your coffee. “Whatever, Billie. I was just thinking about…the holiday party this weekend. You know, the one Steph’s hosting?”

The entire idea of the party was completely new to all of you, since Stephani and Hunter had only just come up with the concept about a week ago. They had rented out a space nearby to host it so you wouldn’t have to fly somewhere to go and every brand was invited to come, the entire purpose of it being to eliminate the final tensions still lingering from NXT’s victory at Survivor Series.

Everyone had been called to Vince’s office a few days prior, and he had everyone draw the name of someone on another brand from a large bowl. Once all the names had been picked, he announced that you had to purchase a gift for that person “in the spirit of the season,'' he had said in his haughty voice.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Who’s name did ya pick, Billie?” Peyton asked, tossing her lipstick back in her bag and fixing her gaze on her tag team partner.

“I got Mia Yim’s name on my paper. Oh, maybe I’ll get her a new snapback!”

The blonde squealed, clutching her friend’s hands and smiling for her. “I’m so happy for you, love! Wish I could’ve gotten someone like that. I ended up getting…that Lars guy…”

You all collectively shuddered at the sound of his name, the three of you silently deciding to not voice your opinions about the man in public. She turned to you and let go og Billie, lamming her hands down on the table. “So, who did you get, (Y/n)?”

You could feel the intensity of their stares on you when they turned back to you and it scared you to bits. “Well, I originally had picked out Sasha’s name but with me only being here for a little while, I don’t really know her very well and I frankly don’t want to. She intimidates the living hell out of me.”

“So…?”

“So, I heard from someone that Bayley got the person that I wanted and I traded names with her so she’d get her friend, plain and simple. I know it went against the rules, but she didn’t seem to mind and I didn’t either. Although, she did throw me a dirty look when I approached her, but she does that to everyone now so I left it alone.”

The two women in front of you were visibly vibrating, their smiles growing wide with joy and their eyes widening. “She gave you Drew’s name, didn’t she?”

You could feel a slight blush creeping up the back of your neck but you willed it down as you nodded and they squealed once again.

“Oh my gosh, love, I knew it! That’s why you’ve been so distracted today. You’ve been wondering about what to get him!”

“I’ve already gotten him what I thought would be nice. I’m just thinking about whether he’ll like it or not.” Along with a few other things as well. “I’m trying to get him to like the holidays and Christmas for what they truly are: a time where you can celebrate the best of times with your loved ones and shower them in things that make you think of that person and…what? What are the two of you staring at?”

“We,” Billie whispered, blocking her mouth with the side of her hand, “are looking at that.”

You turned and followed their eyes to see Drew standing in the room’s doorway, dressed in all black with his body blocking the entrance as his eyes scanned for you. You could hear Billie and Peyton sigh dreamily, probably with their heads in their hands and hearts in their eyes as he waved you over, the shirt he was wearing riding up on him and exposing a line of skin.

The tips of your ears tinged red as you gathered your things and said goodbye to your two friends, slowly making your way over to McIntyre with a shy smile on your face.

“Hey, Drew. What’re you doing here? You don’t have a match tonight,” you asked, giving him a quick side hug before playfully shoving him aside to leave the room. He followed you with his hands in his pockets, eyes drifting down your neck and back before resting on your ass.

“I decided to come an’ check on you and how you were doin’, lass. Is your neck still hurtin’ ya? Anything creakin’ or whatever?”

A hand came up to run its rough palm over the heated skin of your neck while the other wrapped itself around your waist to feel your spine. He tilted your head to get a good look at you and your eyes lolled closed at the soothing warmth that they brought with them, relaxing in his grip before quickly escaping and preventing yourself from looking like a freshly picked tomato.

“I-I’m fine, Drew, you don’t need to baby me anymore. Me and Billie and Peyton were just talking about Steph’s party that she’s making all of us go to this weekend.”

His brows furrowed and he sighed, shaking his head. “When have I told ‘em… I told her to her damn face that I didn’t want t’ go to that stupid shit they planned and here she is forcin’ all of us ‘in the spirit of the season’”. Makes me sick.”

He looked down at you with a clear distaste in his eyes, making you feel small underneath them. “I s’pose you’re gonna ask me about who’s name I picked now, aren’t ya?”

“Not really, but since you brought it up…?”

The Scotsman groaned deeply, rolling his eyes and moving forwards. He eventually stopped with you pressed against a nearby wall and an arm resting above your head. “Since I’m not th’ biggest fan of this holiday crap, I didn’t even plan on goin’ to her shitty party. Was just plannin’ on staying home and gettin’ piss drunk with you for the weekend.”

He smiled when he said that, nudging you with his shoulder as you smiled and “awww-ed” out loud. “So when Steph forced me to head out to the name pickin’ whatever, I drew Strowman’s name. I was fine with it, at first, was gonna get him a new shirt an’ some clippers for that damn beard o’ his. But, Dunne had your name and didn’t know what to get you, (Y/n), so we traded.”

Oh god, don’t think about how close he is, you told yourself as he leaned down to whisper in your ear to not tell anyone his secret. One of his hands was still attached to your waist, occasionally massaging and squeezing the skin near your spine. Is he doing this on purpose?

You looked into his eyes and a small flash of green and red above you had caught your eye. “Uh, Drew? Has that always been there?”

“Has what always been…oh.”

The two of you looked up to see a small sprig of mistletoe hanging above you, the leaves shiny and fresh and smelling like Christmas. Although it may be small, the two of you knew what it meant. Neither of you wanted to make the first move, so you both just awkwardly stood there nearly chest to chest as a weight fell upon you.

“H-How did that g-get here, huh? Must be weird, right, Drew?” you asked, your palms beginning to sweat as he tore the plant down from its position on the wall and tossing it into his pocket.

“It is really fuckin’ weird, yeah. Listen, I know ya have a match later tonight so I’ll jus’ get out of your-”

He started to move away from you, to take his hands off of you, to remove himself from you and you just couldn’t have that’ you felt something rise in your mind that gave you a flash of both bravery and stupidity, and you can’t decide which one made you do what you just did.

Welp, it’s tradition, so why not give it a try?

Your hands swiftly rise to cup his jawline before he could get too far, running your thumbs over the hair that laid in his chin and bringing him back down to your height to plant a hard kiss smack dab on his lips. You had to inch up on your toes to reach him all the way and it was worth it to hear his muffled gasp as your lips claimed his in that hallway.

His eyes went wide with surprise as the second you kissed him, his brain ended up frying. What was he supposed to say when one of his only friends was kissing him: to lay off and leave him alone? He couldn’t bear to do that to you, to hurt your feelings like that.

So, he lowered his hands back down to your waist and kept you planted there, pulling you as close to him as you could get. Your lips were so soft on his, so perfectly shaped to fit him and any other needs you may sate in the future…

Wait, what?

Meanwhile on your end, you were physically shaking and you were pretty sure he could feel it too. You could feel him gripping your shirt and tugging you closer, tilting his head to claim more of your mouth for himself and surrounding you and your every orifice with him. The two of you parted after a while, Drew panting and your eyes glassy from how hard you shut them when you went in for the kiss.

A part of you hoped that even if he had a crappy Christmas that he would still count that moment - that kiss - as a good memory. You were friends - best friends - but you had to take your chance, you just had to…right?

“I...I…” You couldn’t even speak. You could still feel the warmth of his hands on your body, even after he yanked them away like your body was a hot stove. He managed to steal your breath away (literally) and had you stuttering and stumbling over your words like a damn schoolgirl.

“I, um...You know, it’s tradition! It’s in the spirit of the season, like one of those things you do during these times that you don’t like because you don’t like Christmas and literally anything that has to do with it so why did I actually kiss you? I’m n-not really sure about that but I know I must be talking off your ear right now s-so I’m just gonna head back to the women’s locker room and prep for my match tonight, okay? Okay, good.”

Your mouth would not stop moving for the life of you as your face grew dark with embarrassment. You even slapped a hand over your mouth (god damn it, it even smells like his aftershave) to stop yourself from talking. Sidestepping him, you said - albeit muffled - goodbye to him and tried to cover your face with your free hand as you quickly walked away from the situation you made, leaving behind a stunned Drew and a whole lot of unanswered questions.

He stood there for a while, leaning up against the wall and watching you go while thumbing the mistletoe in his pocket and touching his lips with his free hand. The plant felt weird in his pocket but all he could think about was you and how determined you seemed.

Was this a part of your plan, the one you mentioned back at the PC? The one about how you’d make him love the holiday season?

Well, if that’s how you’re gonna do it then by all means, go ahead, (Y/n). I certainly wouldn’t mind...

His head snapped up immediately. Why the hell…? Why did that just pop into his head? Fucking hell, you’re his best friend! Granted, you’re his only friend, but still! He shouldn’t be thinking about his friend like that! He shouldn’t be thinking about his friend’s perfect mouth and how well it fit with him, about how desperate and headstrong you were when you went in for the kiss, about how warm and soft your body was when he held you close in his hands…

…damn it.

Damn everything and everyone in this fucking building, he thought, kicking himself off the wall and walking in the direction opposite of you. He could see Owens out of the corner of his eye, smirking like the cat who just got the cream as he clearly watched the entirety of that incident play out.

Shooting him a glare and sneering, Drew could hear the other man laugh out loud as he started walking to who-knows-where in the arena, wanting to clear his head of all these thoughts he’s been repressing for months and months now.

Fucking hell, he’s got it bad for you now.

                                          ~~~~~~~~~~~~

The week passed by all too quickly for either of your likings, days that felt like hours seeming to fly through the wind as the kiss replayed in your minds over and over again. Even after you managed to persuade Drew to get out of his lace and come to Steph’s holiday party with you, you still felt a flush rise all through your body.

He showed up at your door that Saturday afternoon and waited in the rental, looking to the side and seeing you come out with two different colored paper bags in hand. You set them in the trunk before sliding in next to him on the passenger side, refusing to meet his eyes at any cost.

“What’re in the bags, (Y/n)? Looks like you’re preparin’ for holiday war back there.”

“Oh, shut up,” you chided, smiling as you fastened your seatbelt and he pulled out onto the road. “They’re for tonight, you big lug. And even if I was, you still wouldn’t be impressed since you hate everything the world hates that’s festive-themed.”

He laughed, holding his gut with one hand and filling the space of the car with warmth. “Aye, you’re right about that one, lass.”

“Where’s your gift, though? I hope you’re not planning on giving me nothing for the party.”

“Well, you’ll see…”

The two of you were trying to remain comfortable around each other as you drove to the party and parked the car, but there were still many underlying feelings lingering beneath the surface. You both had refused to acknowledge the kiss in the hallway, choosing to act as if it had never happened rather than face your feelings head-on like grown adults.

It started to snow halfway through your drive so the ground had already gotten a soft, white layer of the stuff when Drew helped you out of the rental and went for your bags. You felt snowflakes brush against your skin and fall into your hair, watching as the sun began to dip below the horizon.

You heard him rustle through one of your bags behind you, and you swiftly moved to take both away from him. “Not today, you nosy bastard! You have to be patient and wait like a good little boy.”

The look he gave you was dark and menacing, and he ripped off his hat and shoved it into his jacket pocket. “But, what if I don’t want to be good? What if I want to be bad this year? What’ll ya do then, (Y/n)?”

He backed you up and had you pressed against the side of the car, the puffs of air from your heavy breathing clouding around your face and fading to nothing. You still had your bags in your hands, and you were so very close to dropping them to the ground right then and there.

But, he let up after a few seconds, laughing and teasing you about how damn easy it was to rile you up nowadays. You started grumbling this time, saying how you’d get him back for that soon. The two of you walked to the door and handed in your invites, you being allowed to head inside after taking off your jacket and leaving it in the coat check but Drew not being able to.

“Did I forget to tell you that you had to wear at least one thing holiday themed in order to enter? My bad, it just happens that-”

“-that I can get th’ fuck out of here and go back to sleep.”

“-that my mom finished making you a Christmas sweater a few weeks ago and gave it to me when I went back home. And she made it especially for you, Drew!”

Fuckin’ hell, Drew thought drearily as you pulled out the red monstrosity. You were right when you said it was made for him, but that didn’t mean that it was made for him. The knit pullover sweater was covered in small white pom-poms and knitted snowflakes, small flecks of glitter dotting the hem as “Have A Happy Claymore Christmas!” was spelt out across the chest.

Needless to say, he hated it. He absolutely hated it.

But, he saw your face and how bright your eyes became when you pulled it out of the first bag. It would break your heart if he said no, and he would never hurt your feelings like that…

“...Fine, I’ll wear the damn thing,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes lightly when you squealed and jumped up and down, hugging him and telling him to take off his jacket so he could put it on.

Somehow, without knowing his exact measurements at all, your mother managed to make the thing fit his thick bodied frame perfectly. He looked so grumpy in it, frowning and furrowing his brows when you cooed about how cute he looked.

“Can we just get this over with already?”

“Absolutely the hell not. We have got to show this to everyone else back there before we do so. Come on!”

You start pulling on his arm with your free hand and you mostly just drag him down the hallway to where you could hear music playing. His feet were planted firmly into the ground like that of a child, but he secretly loved how enthusiastic and happy you were to parade him around.

You wore a cheesy holiday sweater of your own, this one green with fake holiday lights circling the entire thing and small bells scattered along the front. There was a reindeer resting on a hill of glittery snow on the front, and he couldn’t help but notice how cute you looked in it.

It would look even cuter on our floor, wouldn’t it?

He growled at his sudden thought, pushing it away just as easily as you pushed open the door to a wide array of wrestlers cheering upon your arrival. There were several groups from different brands mingling and talking and seemingly having a good time. You could see the Street Profits manning the bar for the night and Kofi on food duty, cheering on Big E as he and Otis went head-to-head in a Christmas cookie eating competition.

There were a few couples that you could spot dotting the walls near the tree, taking cute pictures next to it and loving their lovers in holiday gear. Your heart ached when you saw that. You needed someone to do that with. You needed someone, but not now. Now was the time for Christmas holiday fun and enjoying the presence of your friends and your work family.

You spotted Billie and Peyton chatting it up with Kevin in a corner and you waved to them, separating from Drew and rushing over to them to give your girls hugs. They each had on matching reindeer antler headbands, with Kevin just wrapping a simple striped scarf around his neck.

“Before you speak, Kevin told us everything and no, he hasn’t told anyone else yet and he only told us because he knows that we know you sorta well and he just had to get it off his chest or else-”

“Or else what, Peyton? What are you guys talking about?”

Billie cleared her throat and her eyes zipped behind you. You already knew who she was eyeing because when you left to go meet them, he’d turned on his heel and made his way to the bar, picking at the cotton puffs on his sweater.

You snapped your head towards Owens, who was casually sipping his drink as he leaned against the wall. “You guys are talking about me and Drew, aren’t you? But nothing’s happened to us this…week…”

Did he somehow know about the…?

“How in the hell did you find out?! There was no one except us in that damn hallway, you creep!”

He started chuckling, downing his drink and setting the empty glass on a nearby table. “I was waiting for someone nearby and I just happened to watch you kiss the hell out of that Scottish bastard you call a friend.”

“But, why would you tell them? Why would they want to know?”

“Because I-”

“We, Kev,” Billie interrupted.

“Fine. We are tired of seeing you two flit around the inevitable. Everyone here can see it, Billie and Peyton can definitely see it. Hell, even I can, and I wasn’t even invested in this little love saga of yours until a few days ago.”

“Look, (Y/n),” Peyton said slowly after a few seconds of awkward silence, “I know you don’t want our help, but come on! The two of you are clearly in love with each other!”

You didn’t want to act on your feelings yet; you didn’t want to ruin what you already had with McIntyre because of your dumb feelings for him. You just had to push them down and pray that they would diminish...eventually.

“I, um…I’m gonna go, okay? Promise I’ll meet you guys back here in a bit,” you told them, shooting daggers at Kevin before heading to the bar and sitting down on the stool next to Drew’s. He leaned back against the table and casually watched as the party went on. Turning his head, he met your gaze and gave you a smile, a stark difference to how hard he was glaring at everyone else.

“So, what brings ya over to my little corner of solitude, (Y/n)?”

“Nothing much,” you answered. “Just figured that you seemed lonely all by yourself over here. Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”

“You didn’t. I was just thinking about...things.”

Yeah, things that I’d love to do to you.

He cleared his throat and turned to down his shot, coming back around to see your body turned to him with your elbows resting on your knees. “What kind of things, Drew?”

“Things for me to know and for you to not,” he stated.

You pouted at him, and you were almost certain that you could see a shiver roll down his spine. “Fine, you meanie. But I’ll get something out of you!”

The two of you shared a laugh and you swiveled around in your seat to order yourself a rum and coke. Making conversation with anyone who happened to pass by was what your night mostly consisted of, along with you leaving the bar from time to time to dance with Peyton and Billie and decorating holiday cookies for you to absolutely consume later.

All the while, Drew watched you. He watched you interact with everyone with a skill and ease he had yet to master. He saw how carefree and in love you were with everything, asking him to get up from the bar for once and enjoy this with you. He could see it in your eyes, and he could see how all the horribly cheesy decorations and stars and the red/green confetti littering the ground brought a light to your eyes and a smile to your face.

The night was slowly beginning to wind down and you sat back with him, nursing your second drink and resting your head on his shoulder. This is nice, you thought, looking up at Drew’s side profile. It would be nice to have this every day…

“Hey, lass?”

“Yeah?” you asked, snapping out of your daze. “What is it?”

He paused and began to rub his palms together. “I just…I just wanted to talk to you about-”

“Hey, look! It’s Vince! I guess it’s time, then.”

The man in question wore a deep grey suit to match his greying hair and had his two children and Hunter beside him, all looking smug as they stared out at everyone.

“Are you all having fun tonight?” Vince asked, taking a mic from Steph as the room applauded him. His laugh was dry as he continued.

"As it is the season of giving and family, all of us up here wanted to make sure that you all down there could enjoy this time of year with your WWE family. And as you should know, you all had chosen the name of someone who you were required to purchase a gift for to show that there was no more bad blood lingering in the cracks anymore."

"Well, my friends," Shane continued, smiling, "the time is right and the time is now. Go forth and find your assigned person and bless them with an offering of companionship between brands."

There was a loud rustling that erupted throughout the room, with people reaching for their wrapped boxes and decorated bags and moving around to find their gift receivee. You turned back to Drew and held onto his hand, smiling widely as your hands began to shake.

"Okay, so do you really want to know what's in the bag?"

"Since you seemed so protective over it earlier, yeah," he responded as he rested his elbows on the bar.

"Well, I was so defensive and "protective" over it because…because it was for you."

Huh?

"I may have traded names with a certain Smackdown Women's Champion to get yours and I know it's kind of unethical and went against the rules a bit since I got something for someone on the same brand as me, but you're my friend and I think you're going to like what I got you."

"Besides, this is only a piece of my "Make Drew Love Christmas" plan, you know," you added, laughing when Drew tilted his head back and groaned. Reaching next to you, you plucked the shiny red and white striped bag off the floor gently and held your arm out to him, the limb shaking from anticipation.

He took it from you and stood, resting it on his stool as you watched impatiently with your hands folded in your lap. Moving the annoying tissue paper out of the way, he recognized two small things at the bottom of the bag and a larger item resting on the side of the bag. The first thing he pulled out was a small black box and inside laid a sleek black and silver watch. He took it out and turned it around, seeing his initials engraved on the back of it and smiling.

"You said that you needed a new watch after Seth crushed it under his foot after that one segment where he attacked you backstage, so I pulled a few strings a few months ago to called up an old friend and asked him for a favor."

His brows raised and he smiled again. God damn, that smile is gonna end up killing me someday, you thought as you watched him try it on. He told you that he loved it, and you were grateful that at least one of the gifts you got had fit his standards.

He moved onto the next one, setting the now empty box back inside the bag and pulling out a cream colored mug with a picture of the two of you on it. He had taken you out to an amusement park or your birthday, and you've never felt more like a child. You two are snacks until you were fit to burst and went on nearly every ride, saving the large rollercoaster for last. The cameras on the ride had snapped pictures of you guys and out of all of them, you decided to choose the silliest fucking one to make into a mug.

The one you picked had Drew's hair flying into his face as you went over the first drop. You were screaming with joy and him out of sheer terror as you had your arms raised and your eyes closed. His eyes were as big as saucers as he clung to the guard that covered his chest for dear life, silently praying that this would be over soon.

“I remember that day, lass. I almost threw up all of my lunch after we got off that monstrosity, and you kept laughing at me even though you felt the exact same way.”

“That’s why I chose this pic to put on it,” you explained, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks as he looked back down at you. “That day was really special for me, and I wanted to commemorate the best part of that day for you. Plus, I know you like drinking coffee so it’s perfect for that as well!”

He chuckled, rumbling his chest as he set the mug back down in the bag gently and moved to pick up the framed item lingering at the side of the bag. This was the one you were the most worried about. You didn’t know how he would react to it, if he would like it or absolutely despise it, and it was eating you up inside.

He picked it up and was immediately confused by what it was. The dark wooden frame was smooth, only about a foot wide and inside of it, a wrestling ticket back from 2011. It was bent and crumpled at the ends but remained intact when he saw the writing on it, his eyes went wide.

“(Y/n)? Is this…?”

“Yeah,” you answered. “That’s the ticket I bought for my first ever WWE show way back when. It was the first time I saw you perform live and in-person, and watching you in that ring that night was what made me want to pursue a wrestling career and work here in the first place.”

Despite the noise of people talking and wrapping being torn around him, he couldn’t hear any of it besides you. He remembered seeing you that night, wearing a Stone Cold tee and cheering him on energetically from the front row. You were so enthusiastic that night, and he remembered winking at you and how hard you screamed when he did that.

That night was the first time he ever saw you and your bright smile that would be forever ingrained in his head.

It was the first time he had fallen in love at first sight…

Meanwhile, you stood and stretched your legs, waiting for some kind of response from him. He just stood there in silence, holding the frame in both hands and pondering about who-the-hell-knows. Every passing second made your heart grow heavy and a feeling of dread washed over you.

“So...do you like them? I wanted to get you things that symbolized us and out friendship and how the holidays are more than material possessions, and how they’re about spending time with the people you love and…”

“...and you’re not even listening to me,” you murmur, peeling your eyes away from his face and dropping them to the floor. He was still shocked about how much thought and effort you put into these, for him of all people. But when he looked back at you, he could sense sadness wafting off of you in droves.

“Lass? Are ya okay? Is there something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong, Drew,” you replied. You began picking at the fluff of your sweater, avoiding his gaze as more and more dread covered you like a thick blanket. “I think I’m gonna just step outside for a little bit, okay? I need to clear my head…”

You stepped around him and faintly smiled, and you could hear the thud of his footsteps as he followed you outside with the bag dangling from the crook of his arm. Moving quicker, you tried to evade him as you made it through the twin doors and attempted to close them on him, but he shoved his foot in between them and pried it open.

You tugged down the sleeves of your sweater and sniffed, feeling tears form in your eyes. You pressed yourself against the wall closest to the doors and turned away when he called your name.

“Look, I know my gifts are bad, I get it! You don’t have to come out here and rib me about it just because you didn’t get me anythin-”

You rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands and stopped when you heard his footsteps in front of you. When you looked up, there stood Drew in all his glory, glowering down at you with his steely eyes. His stare was menacing enough, and you’ve never felt as small as you did then as he placed your gift bag next to you. He was gentle with you, taking your hands away from your face with one hand and resting the other at the base of your neck.

“Stop talkin’, will ya?” he asked as he looked at you - really looked at you then - and pulled you in for a harsh yet tender kiss, a small muffled sound of surprise coming from your lips.

He pulled you in close, just like he did in the hallway that past Monday, and tilted your head back to get better access to your mouth. You had to rise up on your toes in order to meet him halfway, but it was more than fucking worth it. The fact that he had rendered you speechless with a simple kiss just proved your doubts wrong, and that there was something more going on between the two of you…

His hand curled around your neck and you sighed, feeling his hand leave your wrists and move to your waist. This was…nice, the feeling of his lips on yours. That kiss in the hallway was good, but this? This was a level of passion you have yet to see come from him.

Huh, maybe Billie and Peyton were right, you thought as the two of you parted, you panting with your lips parted.

“I didn’t have anyone to spend times like these with.”

“What?” you asked, still dazed from him kissing you.

“Back at the PC, I was gonna say that I really have anyone to even spend Christmas with. My family wasn’t all for the holidays and I guess some o’ that kinda rubbed off on me too.”

“But now I have someone new to spend the wintertime with, lass,” he continued, stroking your cheek with his thumb and smiling. “It’s you, (Y/n). Always has been.”

“Wha...huh? Drew, what are you saying?”

“‘M saying that…that I’m in love with ya, lass. That’s what my gift to you was for this damn party. I was gonna tell ya how I felt and ask if you felt the same but-”

You grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him deeply, him groaning as he wrapped both arms around your waist. He walked forward and pressed your body farther into the wall as you moaned into his mouth and grasped at his hair. His grip on your hips grew tight when he pushed a leg in between yours and and held you there. You resisted the urge to grind down on his thigh right then and there, but he could sense your urgency as you slipped your tongue into his mouth.

You didn’t want to move at all. You wanted to save and preserve this moment for as long as you could before the world came crashing in. You tilted your head to the side and whimpered when he pulled away from you to catch his breath.

“Fuck, you're so damn cute How long have you known, (Y/n)?”

Your hands drifted from his jaw and down to his neck, looking up at him with cloudy eyes. “F-For a while n-now. It first started when you were fighting for the King of the Ring crown, but I’ve just been putting it off because…I didn’t want what we have - well, had - as friends to end.”

He could see the sadness grow in your eyes, and he was quick to wipe your judgements away. “Nothing could ever make me stop lovin’ you, no matter how that may be. All I ask is if you’d want to try whatever this is an’ take it wherever you want to go.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and jumped in his hold, nodding and pressing you face into the warm skin and sighing. Chuckling, he held onto you tightly and leaned in close to your ear.

“Because now that I have you, lass,” he whispered sultry and slipped a hand into your back pocket, “I’m not gonna let you go for a second.”

                                              ~~~~~~~~~~~~

The drive back to your place was filled with a flurry of kisses in and outside of the car, with the two of you getting your jackets and him leaning you back against the rental to claim your lips as his own once more to Drew taking your hand in his and kissing the top of it as he drove down the snow-covered road. You kept looking back at him with the lights from the passing cars glittering in your pupils.

You still couldn't believe that this was happening, him and you becoming one as you approached a new chapter in your life. Your friendship had been diminished but in its place, there was a blossoming love ready to bloom.

Everything after that was a blur, from him parking the car and leaving the gift bag in the backseat to him carrying you out bridal-style and you yelling at him to put you down, leading to him saying that he has to “prevent his new woman from slipping on the ice below” to him letting you down so you can unlock your door and step inside.

You shoved off your jacket and moved to push his aside, feeling how hard he was under his jeans as he pinned you to the door. His lips were immediately on yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth as his hands gripping your hips and hoisting you up so you could wrap your legs around his thick waist. Your boots slid off your feet and landed on the ground with a thud, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was feeling him against your body, and you wanted more.

He seemingly sensed your urgency and chuckled deeply, the noise rumbling his chest and making you shiver. “Oh, you devil woman, what’ve ya done to me?”

“I could ask you the same damn thing,” you panted, squealing and wrapping your arms around him when he toed off his shoes and started walking down the hallway to your room. Every now and then, he would stop and hold you against a wall to make out with you, pressing the outline of his cock onto your slit through your jeans.

“We’re literally right here, Drew,” you said breathlessly after he had kissed you for the fifth time. “You can’t just wait a few seconds?”

“No can do, lass. Ya drive me wild, and I jus’ can’t seem to get enough of you.”

He nudged open the door to your room and kicked it shut, running his lips up and down the exposed skin of your neck as he laid you down gently on the bed. You had some fairy lights strung along the walls of the small room, giving it a soft glow as you leaned up on your elbows.

Drew tore off the sweater he was wearing and tossed it on a chair in the corner of your room, and you forgot how good the navy blue tee hugged his frame. He was immediately on you again, slipping a hand into your hair as he laid on your chest.

“Your lips are so soft, so sweet, so mine,” he murmured against your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours as the hand in your hair tilted your head back. You let out a small cry and shut your eyes when his mouth descended down your jaw and down the column of your neck so he could lave away at the skin.

Your hand drifted into his hair and tugged on the strands when you felt the sting of his teeth sinking in, moaning when he began sucking a dark mark into the flesh. Your other hand reached down to squeeze the bulge in his pants, and you smirked as the Scotsman groaned into your neck.

“So you wanna play it like that, huh, lass? Well, let’s play, then.”

The rough pads of his fingers stroked along your scalp and moved farther down, down the back of your neck as he continued to mark it up with various hickies and bites, and down the length of your spine over your sweater. You could feel the weight of his palm through your clothes and it sent shivers through your body.

Tilting his head up with your hand, you looked into his stormy grey eyes and sighed. He had his trademark smirk plastered on his face and combined with the swirls of lust that clouded his vision, he looked like a mighty fine Scottish meal and you were only getting a small taste of it.

The palms of his hands ran down over the front of your sweater and slid underneath the hem, finally grazing bare skin. The contact made you shudder again and he watched you intensely, eyes locked onto yours as he didn’t hit any cloth underneath the fluffy green mess.

“Oh, so you went without a shirt, (Y/n)? Naughty girl, you wanted this tonight,” Drew purred, smiling enough to show teeth when his hands met the soft lace of your bra. His brogue was starting to deepen as quickly as your flush did, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could take this.

His fingers deftly dipped below the cups and his palms swallowed your breasts whole, making you moan softly as he kissed you again. You could feel the tips of his fingers circling your nipples and as they peaked up, he pinched at them and pulled them as far as he could. The twinge of pain that came with that pleasure sent sparks down to your folds, and you just wrapped your arms around him to get as much of it as you could.

He started grinding his bulge into your covered clit, making your eyes go wide and making you throw your head back. Based on what you’ve felt so far, that man was packing some serious punch down there and you could not wait to feel that inside you.

The two of you went on like this for what seemed like hours, slowly bumping and grinding against each other with his hands playing with your breasts and your hands messing with his hair. You could feel your climax rise in your abdomen and you clenched around nothing as you rubbed against the outline of his cock harder and faster than before. You started whimpering in his ear and you would’ve came in your jeans if not for the Scotsman unlocking your legs from his waist and setting you back down on the bed.

Your breath was spotty at best and you were clinging onto your sweater for dear life. This man nearly made you cum from playing with your breasts and pressing himself against you, so you knew you wouldn’t be able to survive the real thing. He rose for a second, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and rolling it off his body in one fell swoop.

You were almost certain that your ovaries had fallen out at that moment.

He was showing off for you and he knew that you knew, flexing his muscles slightly to get your attention. “Like what ya see, lass? Because it’s all for you.”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, too busy eyeing all the lines and scars and veins of his chest, and how the hair that lay on his pecs looked soft enough to touch and nap on. He chuckled at how astounded you were and grabbed your ankles, pulling your body close so they hung off the bed.

Oh god, was he…?

Your breath hitched when you say him unsnap your jeans and zip them down with his teeth as his gaze locked on yours the entire time. He hooked his fingers into the belt loops and pulled down, you scrambling to lift your hips before he asked you to.

Not that you would mind in the first place.

Drew finally rolled the last of them and dropped them next to the bed, your breathing beginning to speed up when he spread your legs and moved his head closer to where he wanted to be.

“Aww, these are some cute panties, lass. Did you wear them just for me?” he asked, trailing his hands up your legs and holding the underside of your thighs.

“Maybe I d-did, maybe I didn’t. You’ll never know.”

“So you’re bein’ a right tease now, aren’t ya? You might wanna stop that before I end up punishin’ ya, and I don’t think you want to see that side of me now, do you?”

He spoke a lot deeper for the final part than he had previously, and that plus the overhearing broadness that was him between your trembling legs was enough for you to shake your head “no”.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, fueling the fire that laid in your soul. “Now, I know you’ve been waiting for this for a while, so let’s just see…oh, lass…”

You turned your head away and used a hand to bury it in your pillows as he saw the wet spot you had made in your panties and tool a hand from your leg to rub at your slit through them. The moan you let out vibrated the pillow you had covering your face and he was just ecstatic in the inside.

Good, he thought. He wanted to hear you. He wanted the whole fucking world to know what he was doing to you.

Circling your clit through your panties, Drew smiled at how much you were quivering for him. So eager and ready for him when you reached down and put your hands in his hair again, he pulled them to the side and groaned at how wet you were for him.

“Oh, (Y/n), you’re absolutely dripping for me. Look at the mess you’ve made of these panties o’ yours. Guess I’ll just have to clean it up myself…”

You had to smush your face into your pillow and moan when he hooked them around his hand and rested his free hand on your stomach, his thumb brushing and rubbing light circles around your bare clit as he leaned in and kissed your folds. His tongue slipped out of his mouth and ran through them, gathering a bit of your wetness on the appendage and licking straight up to your clit to take the place of his thumb.

This went on for a few minutes, him leisurely tasting you and occasionally parting your folds to circle you entrance and you trying so hard not pull on his hair as hard as you could and reign him into the apex of your thighs.

This went on until he had finally decided to put you out of your misery and give you something. He rested your legs over his shoulders, telling you to cross your ankles behind his neck.

“I want ya to smother me, lass. Fix those legs around my neck and fuckin’ wring me. I want t’ dive into this sweet cunt of yours and absolutely drown in it.” And with that, he spread your folds with his fingers and drove his tongue into you, making your scream into your pillow.

Yes, yes, yes! you chanted mentally as he used his other hand to hold your hips down. He lapped at the wetness that lingered on your inner thighs and around your lips before plunging his tongue back in. The hand in his hair began tugging and tugging, silently demanding more and more of what this was. His nose brushed up against your clit and you keened, feeling and hearing him lick up everything you were giving him.

“You’re so fuckin’ sweet, lass,” he panted when he came up to breathe. “I can’t… I can’t seem to get enough of ya…”

He mouthed along your mound and rolled your bud around on his tongue, just loving how squirmy you were due to his actions. It filled him with a sense of pride that he was doing this to you, not some random man who would never show you what true pleasure is.

He saw you remove your head from your pillow prison and he could hear your small cries for more, of “please, Drew, I’m gonna cum if you keep this up.”

“Isn’t that the point, lass? For you to give into the urges and feelings I’m giving ya?”

His tongue dove into you again and made you moan aloud, and you swore you saw the ceiling shake from how loud it was. You could feel the intensity running through your veins, it was lingering beneath the surface and you knew you were going to cum soon but it was too soon. You wanted to experience more of this, more of this sweet feeling he was bestowing upon you.

“You’re holdin’ back on me, (Y/n). I can feel it,” he said, rising from between your legs and leaving you empty. “I can feel your walls clenching down hard on my tongue. Stop denyin’ yourself the pleasure you crave, or else I’m gonna take it for you.”

Now, that got your ass in gear, hearing him speak to you like that with his mouth and his beard glistening with your juices like fresh morning dew. You whimpered, closing your legs back around his head when he moved back down and nearly jolting off of the bed when his tongue returned to your clit.

He went faster this time, moving in tighter circles and lapping at your folds much quicker than before. He pistoned his tongue into you over and over again, keeping eye contact with you as you whiled and struggled in his grip.

“Drew, I’m gonna….I’m gonna….o-oh fuck!”

“That’s it, my sweet lass. Give me everything you have, and I’ll catch you when you fall.”

You could feel your release rising like the tide and just like it, you felt it tumble over you and send you over the edge, making you arch your hips into his mouth as your juices leaked from you. He moaned, running his hands soothingly up and down your thighs as you shook like a leaf when you returned from your high.

His eyes were still as dark as stormclouds and even though he loved you, he still wasn;t finished with your wet cunt. Not by a long shot.

Drew took a finger and slowly ran it over the seam of your folds, feeling the wetness that stained and dotted the skin. You shivered at the contact as you tried to regulate your breathing. Everything was going all well and good until he started talking again.

“Fuckin’ hell, (Y/n). You came so much, and you’re so wet. I wonder if I just…”

And right as he trained off, he slipped two think fingers past your lips and into you, making you keen as your mind short-circuited. Your vision grew cloudy as his fingers slid deeper and deeper into your wet hole, feeling every bump and part of his fingers rub up against your walls.

“Drew…! T’s too much for me-!” you slurred, your voice spiking when he curled his fingers and brushed them against your g-spot. You reached a hand under your sweater and under your bra cup to pluck at your nipples, them being nice and hard after the euphoric rush he had just given you moments ago.

He chuckled darkly and watched the sweater roll up on your stomach, and he leaned over your mound to kiss and bite at the skin. “I know you can take a few more from me, lass. You’re strong enough to become a wrestler, so you’re strong enough to dish out one more orgasm for me.”

Your skin was flushed dark and you began to feel sweat forming at your brow. He’s really testing me tonight, isn’t he? you thought, squeezing your breast as tightly as you squeezed around his fingers. You could feel the familiar wave of pleasure wash over you, but this time it was different.

This time, it felt more like lightning crackling through your veins and making your entire body feel numb as you continued to take what Drew gave you. He rose from his knees and managed to unzip and slip off his jeans with one hand, leaving himself bare except for the dark grey boxers he wore that seamlessly matched the color of his eyes at that moment.

“Ya see this, lass? Ya see what y’ do to me?” he growled, his chest puffing up as he leaned over you once more. “This is all you, with this sinful fuckin’ body and that devilishly sweet cunt of yours. All o’ that’s bound to get you on my naughty list, (Y/n).”

You whimpered, seeing your fairy lights reflect off of the light sheen of sweat his chest was sporting. The sparks were traveling faster now, moving from your head to your toes and back again in record time and you could feel the pressure building up inside you. The man above you smiled as you shut your eyes and bucked your hips into his hand when he added another finger and brought his thumb around to rub furiously at your clit.

“Don’t you dare hold out on me again, lass. I want you t’ soak my fingers and these pretty little panties of yours even farther. I want you to cum for me.”

He was right in your ear again, straining to fill your cunt with his fingers as his free hand came around you your neck and held it. Looking up at him with parted lips, he swooped down to kiss you just as you crashed. No words came out of your mouth, not a sound, nothing. Just you arching your hips into his hand as his fingers tapped away at your g-spot endlessly and your juices flowed out into his palm.

He kept you grounded throughout, crawling next to you and slowly pulling his fingers out of you after a few moments. You whined at the feeling of emptiness and at how suggestively he licked the fingers he just slid out of you

“Shhh, I’m here, I’m here. You’ll be alright,” he murmured in your ear, curling his chest against your back and cuddling you. You ground your ass against the very prominent bulge he was still sporting through his boxers and he groaned, stilling your hips with a tight squeeze of his hand.

“Not now, (Y/n). You can get a piece of that later. You’re already clockin’ out and you need to rest. We’ll work on your stamina another time.”

You grumbled, “You can’t decide when and how I want to be fucked, sir. That’s my job.”

He laughed, feeling you cuddle more into him as he wrapped his arms around you. “You’re so lucky I love that fiery spunk o’ yours, y’know?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Drew.”

After a brief silence, you finally raised the question you’ve had since the party to him. “So, Drew… ya like the holidays now?”

“Not exactly. But with you, lass, I definitely enjoy it more than I ever did before.”

“Alright, then. Now, go t’ sleep, ya big lug. ‘M goin’ to bed an’ I wanna wake you up tomorrow morning…”

~~ Tag List: @writinglionqueen @writing-reigns @i-have-saracasm @yaint-me @alwaysbenhardysgirl @mother-of-goddesses @missmoxy @gold–gucciempress @mistress-to-the-moon @meishaabae @luciddrreamss @neversatisfiedgirl @the-carter-mob-don @dreamlesswonder86 @shazambitches @drewmcintyreinarefereeoutfit @baronsbelleevangelineon @tacoshu @ladytea19 @candicelerae @sassymox @bambixbliss @lookalivesunshine-x @liamakorn @baddie-bismuth @deepdisireslonging @flawlessglamazon @thegoblin-maiden @justsimplevicky @taryn-dibiase @caramara3 @hardcorewwetrash @shieldgirl18 @speckylynch @thirst-n-bullshit @wrestlersownmyheart @wrestlingfae @wrestlingbabe @theskullgoddess @nerdlife0612 @axelwolf8109 @hardcoresweet45 @culturalrebel @andie01 @sassyspacedust @neversatisfiedgirlfics @nicolewoo @unprettypeony @lilmisscrisis @itsicantbelievethis666 @thatpanpal @nightgirl250​ @theworldofotps​ ~~

Send me an ask/PM if you want to be added to my tag list! :D

[colesterstrudel]

3 7 14 15 21

3. Favorite line/scene you wrote this year.

Okay this is gonna be from Reflecting On You and I know y’all are probs like “damn chill it’s not that good why are you obsessed with it” but it’s literally my fave fic of the year lmao so.

There, right before your very eyes, a matching magnolia was blossoming onto Elias’ arm. You brought your arm back up next to his, comparing the two marks. Identical. In every way.

It was silent between the two of you, your focus on your arms pressed together. Then, as if moved by an unseen force, the two of you averted your gazes to the mirror cake in front of you in unison. A clear, unwavering reflection was staring back at the two of you, every detail in Elias’ face accounted for.

“Merry Christmas,” you whispered, watching as Elias’ face broke out into a smile larger than any you’d ever seen him give before.

7. Longest completed fic you wrote this year

I think it’s my Worlds series, technically. Bc the fics all go together to form one cohesive story, so it’s. The longest STORY but in separate fics lmao

14. A fic you didn’t expect to write

Secret Santa lmaooooo. I didn’t expect it to happen this year bc it was for the second day of chrismuts I’d signed up for kind of at the last minute and then the fic just kinda. Happened. And I’m v happy about the whole thing bc I love that fic lmao I love Dean/Bo

15. Something you learned this year

My fics might flop on here but that doesn’t mean they aren’t good or meaningful at all. If I like them and they mean something to me, then they’re worth something lmao

21. Most memorable comment/review

I think I answered this one in the last one but whenever someone says I nailed the characterization of a wrestler, I remember it forever. And I’ve been blessed to be told that a couple times this year

[aladio-milhomes]

Third prompt of the December Holiday challenge 🎉 ❄️ – being trapped by the weather 📂 – sharing Park stories

[aladio-milhomes]

Fourth prompt of the December Holiday challenge 🎉 🕯️ – walking around the city to see the lights 🌿 – mistletoe

[concussed-to-pieces]

Originally posted on the ninth of December, 2017! I had so enjoyed writing about these two that I decided to keep the trend going the following year.

It’s Going To Take A Lot; Bonus

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Diesel [Kevin Nash]/OFC

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy and merry Christmas, ya’ filthy animals! A little bonus content in the spirit of the season. Tagging @toxiicpop, @oraclegazes and @hardcorewwetrash as ever!

Part One

Epilogue

Keep reading

[concussed-to-pieces]

Bookish; Part Two

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Dean Ambrose/Roman Reigns/Seth Rollins/Female Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Word Count: ...I am so sorry. Over 20k.

AN: THIRSTY/HOLIDAY CREW HOOOO! Welcome aboard a most festive holiday spectacular, my entry into the 25 Days Of Chrismuts! This is even more like a cheesy romance novel than the previous installment of Bookish! We've got plot-convenient amnesia, we've got protective security, we've got secrets, violence and daring rescues...everything you and I need to have a great holiday season! Tagging @25daysofchrismuts, @oraclegazes @hardcorewwetrash annnnnnnd @toxiicpop! Enjoy!

Part One

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains minor gunplay (non-loaded gun), firearms in general, graphic descriptions of violence, warped recollections (amnesia) and mentions of emotional neglect. Stay safe!]

“Is that a sniper rifle?!” You yelled in bewilderment, Dean's hand on your shoulder forcing you back down into your seat.

Seth shrugged from his spot beside you, the definitely-a-sniper-rifle cradled in the crook of his elbow. “Maybe.” He allowed, plastering on a grin so hackneyed it made you wince. “Maybe it’s a toy.”

“Maybe you ought to quit talking and start aiming!” Roman shouted from the driver’s seat. “Move it, Rollins!”

How had you ended up in this mess?!

...

The snowfall always looked better from your window. You sighed, sipping on your cup of tea and tugging the tail of your bookmark loose. You had many fond memories of sitting in the little nook your window created, watching the snow come down thick. When you were younger and your parents would call, you often described it to them in excruciating detail.

Fond memories. Lonely fond memories.

“Whatcha' reading now, gorgeous?” The familiar wiry frame of Dean Ambrose settled in beside you, and you giggled while he made himself comfortable. “You crammin' for a midterm or somethin'?”

“No, I just figured I'd catch up on this, uh-” You tried to keep the book out of his hands, but he was too fast. He easily pilfered the volume, squinting at the cover before his eyes widened.

“Oh ho, this your leisure readin' material?” Dean crowed, laughing raucously and vaulting off the window seat with your book in hand.

“Hey wait, give that back!” You grabbed onto the leg of his jeans, bringing him to the ground and scrambling over his body to yank the book away from him. You then moved on reflex to incapacitate him, trapping his neck between your thighs and slamming his head against the floor with your body weight and momentum.

Dean grinned infuriatingly up at you from between your legs, sticking his tongue out in a purposely lewd gesture. “Gettin' pretty good at that, gorgeous! Keep it up and you might have a real shot.”

“You're such a jerk!” You growled. “From where I'm sitting, you're the one who's in trouble.”

“Mm, you'd think that, wouldn't ya'. But the thing is--” Dean's hands slammed shut on your thighs and he pressed your knees even tighter to his shoulders, effectively immobilizing you. “-You're wide open like this, gorgeous.” He smirked, spreading your legs and grabbing your rear to pull you in closer.

You squealed, smacking him with your book and trying to wedge the volume between his face and your groin. “That's cheating Dean!”

“You're the one that put your crotch in my face!” Dean laughed, “What can I say, I'm a hungry guy and you're always delicious.” He slid a hand over the curve of your thigh, making your insides go molten when he moaned in his throat. “You smell so good, gorgeous. Taste even fuckin' better.” He muttered, licking his lips.

“Hey Ambrose, Roman got Ch-” Seth ground to a halt as he pushed open the door and saw the two of you on the floor. “Whoa, my bad! Sorry, I didn't know you guys were, uh, y'know--” He sputtered, obviously flustered.

“We're not!” You huffed.

“We’re not? Shit, and here I thought we were! Ah well, up I get.” Ambrose shifted your knees over his shoulders and actually stood while holding you, your head bumping the ceiling briefly. You quickly bent down, wrapping your arms around the back of his head.

“Dean!”

“Oh, heya’ gorgeous.” Dean mumbled into your stomach, pressing kisses to your shirt while you clung to his face and dug your heels into his shoulder blades. “Weird way of ridin’ piggyback.”

“Put me down Ambrose!” A pair of hands landed on your hips and eased you back down Ambrose’s body.

“Dean, you’re such a tease.” Seth grunted. “Don’t be mean.”

“I ain’t bein’ mean! I wanted to see what they could do. All that training really paid off. They move like a goddamn missile.” Ambrose praised, making you blush.

“Well, they did learn from the best.” Seth preened.

“Don’t even try to take all the credit!” You nudged him with your elbow. “I worked hard for this.”

“You're absolutely right. We're proud of you, gorgeous.” Seth gave you a smile and a kiss on the cheek, “We might even have to recommend you to our boss if you keep improving so fast!”

“Very funny. I doubt I'm on a recommendation level for a fast food joint, never mind whatever private security group you guys work for.” You laughed off his comment, noticing that Ambrose looked weirdly uncomfortable. But then he swiped your book again and you quickly forgot about it, trying to reclaim your property as Seth and Dean played keep-away. Things really got out of hand when Dean started reading aloud passages from the book.

Roman walked in on you shrieking stop reading it and give it back already!, the larger man laughing uproariously and plucking the steamy novel from Ambrose's grasp. “You know you don't need to read this crap when we're around, gorgeous. After all, we're available for uh...wish fulfillment, should the need arise.” His smirk was insufferably smug as he rifled through the pages of the book.

“It's not that, Roman. I'm studying the kissing parts.” You muttered, folding your arms over your chest. “I'm still so new to this, I need...I figured I should study up so you guys don't get tired of me, is all.” You dug your toes into the plush carpet, studiously avoiding eye contact with the three men. “I know I'm not very good at...well, y'know.”

Dean's finger slid beneath your chin and he tilted your face up, his thumb resting on your lower lip. “You don't ever need t’ worry about that, gorgeous.” He murmured hoarsely. “We’re here to protect you, an’ we plan to do so for as long as we can. You're one of the group, whether you like it or not.” He stroked your lower lip in a meditative gesture, back and forth, and you found the motion oddly soothing. “You been worryin’ too much.”

“My modus operandi: I read, I worry.”

“And you kiss.” Dean breathed. “A few other things besides.”

“S-Sometimes.” You hated that the four of you had engaged with one another on multiple occasions and yet you still had issues with the simplest of things. It wasn't fair! When would it become easy? When would you get to fluster them with some carefully-chosen words or a casual touch?

“Don’t worry. This isn't a race, gorgeous.” Seth assured you kindly.

“It can’t be a race because no one else is in it.” You grumbled. “It’s easy for you guys, this stuff comes natural to you.”

“You don't know how wrong you are.” Roman said quietly. He looked thoughtful for a minute, then seemed to shake himself out of it. “Hey, c'mon. Enough of this bullshit. I got Chinese food for dinner, and we can watch some of those garbage Christmas movies.”

“I happen to like those garbage Christmas movies, so you'd better watch your mouth!”

...

“C’mon gorgeous, we have to go.” Roman whispered in your ear, his facial hair tickling your sensitive skin. “It’s time to go.”

“Go? Bu’ where?” You slurred, firmly entrenched in the grip of sleep. You barely remembered being carried up to bed after a marathon of sappy movies. Roman sighed heavily and then wrapped the blanket around your body, lifting you after a moment.

“We gotta’ move, Reigns.” You dimly heard Ambrose grunt. Roman hushed him while you snuggled into his chest.

Without warning the intruder alarm started blaring, startling you wide awake. You felt Roman flinch and Dean swore.

Seth was suddenly at Reigns’ elbow, where had he even come from? “Twenty seconds. Attic breach.” He whispered, leaning his weight on the door to your room and carefully opening it. “Two at a time the stairs. Remember how many there are.”

Roman nodded. “Ambrose, take offensive point. Rollins, you’re on flank.”

“Nothing is getting past me.” Seth muttered.

“Guys, what’s happening?” You whispered.

None of them answered your question and you fell silent, clinging tightly to your blanket. There was a crash upstairs, like someone had knocked something over in the cluttered attic. Dean bolted out the door, heading in the direction of the attic stairs.

Rollins all but hung off of Roman’s arm. “We waiting or leaving?” He asked.

“We’ll wait in the SUV.” Roman’s voice sounded oddly strained. “I’m not leaving Ambrose behind.”

“He should have stayed in for-”

“I said, I’m not leaving him behind. He's on offensive point.” Roman snarled. Seth fell silent. “We’re not leaving him behind while I’m here, Rollins. We’re moving out. Run flank like you’re supposed to and there shouldn’t be any problems.”

You got the feeling that there was some previous situation being brought up, maybe during the rough stint that Rollins had mentioned.

“It’s been a long road to get to the relatively-cushy setups. We’ve always stuck together though, even when shit got hard or dangerous. There’s been a lot of times things fell through.”

Roman held you a little tighter when he left the room, his body tense. Just as he reached the stairs, a door slammed loudly. That seemed to seal it for the large man. He lunged down the stairs, three at a time with Rollins doing an odd sidestep hot on his heels. You buried your face in his chest, terrified beyond belief. If this was something that had them spooked…

Into the kitchen, out the side door to the garage, Roman bypassed your rarely used sports car and instead headed for the navy blue SUV that Ambrose had dubbed ‘The Grand Bandwagon’. “In, in, buckle up.” He panted, sliding you across the backseat. You quickly did as he asked, watching Rollins deadbolt the kitchen door and then scramble to the SUV.

“Drive around to the rendezvous point, it’s a straight shot out the window for him and he knows his evac routes.” He hissed to Roman, who nodded. You tucked your knees up to your chest, shivering with fear (and cold, December was not known for its balmy weather).

The garage door eased up, one of the tracks squeaking loudly. Roman climbed into the driver’s seat and Seth slid onto the bench seat beside you. “We’ve trained for this. It’s going to be fine.” He assured you. “Just remember what we taught you and we'll take care of the rest.”

Roman didn’t turn the engine on, instead taking off the parking brake and letting the car roll out of the garage in neutral. “Here’s hoping that gate at the bottom of the hill isn’t too stiff from the cold.” He muttered.

“More like ‘here’s hoping Ambrose makes it’.” Seth replied, sounding sulky.

“Here’s hoping I don’t punch you in the mouth.” Roman growled.

“Hey guys? Not exactly instilling a lot of confidence with your bickering.” You finally piped up.

“Sorry.” Seth apologized after a moment. “I’m…I always feel so guilty when it comes to-”

“I know. I’m sorry for snapping at you. Still defensive, I guess.” Roman replied ruefully. “Old habits.” The SUV silently inched through the gate, past a group of small, dark-colored vehicles. “Your parents gave us a few weeks off, y’know.” Roman continued to you. “Told us almost a month back: ‘You boys go enjoy yourselves, it’ll be nearly Christmas and we always take our child on vacation’. The email's exact words.” He was watching you in the rearview mirror, like he was waiting to see your reaction.

You shook your head, utterly confused. “They don’t bring me anywhere. Especially not after what happened at the gala.”

“We noticed.” Seth said grimly. “These guys must think we’re as dumb as we look.” You weren’t sure what on earth he meant by that.

The SUV had reached the road at this point, and Roman cautiously turned the key further to start the car. The engine roared to life. You remembered Dean’s proud announcement of, “came straight from the line with over 700 horses, I tuned it up even tighter for extra asswhuppin’.”

Reigns grimaced. “It’s louder than before, Christ.”

“Ambrose knows his stuff.” Rollins said by way of agreement, his fingers tapping away at the seat cushions beside your hand. “May not know how to keep that stuff quiet, but he knows it.” Over the idling engine you heard several loud popping noises. Roman gritted out a curse. “It’s fine, it’s fine.” Seth took your hand, squeezing it a little too tightly. The darkness outside the vehicle was broken by the faint lights from your house up on the hill. You could only just see several forms moving around in the many windows.

“What’s happening, Seth?” You asked softly. More popping met your ears, closer this time.

“He’s coming, it’ll be okay.” Seth said, not meeting your eyes and instead shooting a worried look at Roman as the larger man unbuckled his seat belt. “Roman, don’t-”

“If he’s hurt…Seth, we can’t leave him. I’m not leaving him.” Roman said, the slight tremor in his voice betraying his stoic act.

“He’s not dumb enough to get hurt, man. Put your seat belt back on. He’s gonna’ make it. Nobody knows the plan better than--”

The front passenger door was suddenly ripped open from the outside, making everyone jump. Seth had his arm in front of you and Roman had his handgun drawn before your brain could really register the motions. “Now now big fella’, you wouldn’t blow a hole in my skull, wouldja’?” rasped a familiar voice.

Roman holstered his gun and all but dragged Ambrose into the SUV, burying his face in the other man’s hair for a moment. “Don’t do that to me again.” Reigns choked out, shoving Dean back to his seat and quickly wiping his eyes.

“Hey, we stuck to the plan. Everything’s okay. Well, mostly.” Dean’s laugh was more of a cough. “I always forget how many is too many.” Something struck the passenger side window with a loud ‘pang!’. “Roman, uh, let’s get the fuck outta’ here. Open up the Bandwagon. Wanna’ see how it does with an expert at the wheel.” Dean coughed again, and you then realized he had a death grip on his side. “Also, might have gotten grazed. Nothin’ to worry about right now, but maybe later one of you g-”

“Grazed? As in, shot?!” Was that what those popping sounds were?! It was a far cry from what the movies made them out to be! “Dean, Jesus Christ!” You blurted.

“Here’s a tip that’ll do you good in life, gorgeous. Don’t--ah, ow--don’t bring a knife to a gun fight. Unless you like a challenge.” Dean groaned as he lolled his head back against the headrest. Seth reached over him hurriedly and clicked his seatbelt into the buckle. Dean huffed out a breath. “Such a mother hen.”

The vehicle’s headlights snapped on, brilliant angel eye LEDs illuminating the road and throwing everything into contrast. Dean hummed, seeming pleased. “Everyone buckled?” Roman asked calmly. There was another sharp ‘pang!’, on the window by Seth this time. You flinched at the noise, clinging tighter to Seth's hand.

“You bet your ass. Drag that shit, give it all you’ve got.”

When Roman shifted the SUV and gave it some gas, you felt like your heart was trying to leap out of your throat. Seth laughed incredulously from his spot beside you as the vehicle tore off like a bat out of hell. “Hell yeah, go Grandwagon!”

“Jesus Christ Ambrose, what did you feed this thing?!” Roman sputtered, white-knuckling the steering wheel.

“Nothin’ I didn’t think you could handle.” Dean grinned. “You’re scratchin’ the surface, big fella’. When we get to the highway, open it up.”

You grabbed Seth’s arm and clung tight in anticipation. Rollins didn’t seem to be able to stop his giddy laughter, resting his cheek on your head and reaching over Dean’s seat to pat his shoulder appreciatively. “You’re the best Dean!”

Roman expertly guided the eager Trackhawk along the narrow, winding roads leading away from your house, smoothly shifting gears to put distance between the vehicle and the residence.

“So is anyone going to tell me what's going on?” You asked after several minutes of relative silence had gone by.

Dean craned his neck so he could make eye contact with you in the backseat. “Gorgeous, you remember the guy tailing you and your mom when you went to get that princess dress?”

You would be hard-pressed to forget being that scared. You nodded and Ambrose squinted, shifting a little.

“We, that is, Roman an’ I, went after the guy. Sent Rollins t’ cover you. That scumbag should have known better than to try and sneak out the back. That whole store was basically designed like a kill zone for fuck’s sake, ain’t hard to figure out that it’s a shady joint.” He made a noise of disgust. “Follow the money an’ sure as shit you'll find it's soaked in blood.”

“We briefly interrogated the man and of course, he spilled the whole plan pretty quickly. We didn’t take too kindly to being kept in the dark. One of us could have gotten hurt in the attempt, after all,” Roman carried on where Dean left off, “Your dad dismissing us for the whole gala was something we didn't see coming. We now knew there were people out to get you, but that stunt in the bridal shop seemed a little desperate. Meant they were willing to take you in public. So, Rollins infiltrated the party to escort you elsewhere.”

Willing to take you in public. Your whole body broke out in a cold sweat.

“Your parents hadn’t had any contact with us since the gala. But earlier this month someone claiming to be your dad sent us an email with fucking paragraphs of praise and a request that the three of us enjoy some time off since they’d be picking you up for the ‘annual Christmas vacation’.” Seth rolled his eyes. “Whoever is out for you hasn't exactly done their research. Might be the reason why we made it as far as we did, these people just assuming that we were doing our jobs as your security. At this point, though, I think they’re on to us.”

“I don't understa-”

Headlights blazed to life behind the SUV. A flurry of ‘pang!’s met your ears and Roman shouted, “Rollins!”

Which led to the current mess, Seth unbuckled, a sniper rifle in his hands and the rear window of the Jeep cracked open so he could take a few pot shots at your pursuers. One of the cars drew up alongside and you covered your ears as shots rattled against the glass beside your head.

Seth dropped his gun and grabbed hold of one of your legs, attempting to pull you underneath his body across the bench seat. Your seat belt held, unfortunately, and the back of your head slammed against the hard paneling on the door when your torso slid under the lap belt.

Everything went black.

“--on the highway, Reigns!”

“-happened to the-”

“-gorgeous, please, please!”

“--bump, they’ll be okay-”

Loud, panicked voices faded in and out; you were vaguely aware of the car moving beneath you and something pressing down on you. Your head hurt, and you gladly surrendered to the pull of unconsciousness. If this was what an action scene was really like, you’d had more than enough excitement...

…

When you woke up, you kept your eyes closed. Brow furrowed, you tried to discern why you felt like something was wrong.

It struck you after a moment that the noise of the highway close to your house was strangely absent. Your eyes flew open and you sat bolt upright, cringing in pain and running your fingers over the back of your head until you found the lumpy source of your discomfort. That mystery solved, you slowly took in the room around you in confusion.

The walls and ceiling were bare, unfinished wood, a stark contrast to your bedroom at home. The bed itself was piled high with a mishmash of quilts, and beneath that directly against your body was a pelt of some kind. Or maybe a group of smaller pelts, all sewn together? It was a cream color, soft and warm. A hysterical laugh bubbled in your throat as Gaston’s antler-heavy decor in Beauty And The Beast came to mind. The room definitely had that rustic feel to it.

The door of the room was slightly ajar, and you could hear quiet voices in the next room over. Nervously, you slid out from beneath the blankets, wrapping one of the quilts around your shoulders as an afterthought when the chill of the room hit you. You tiptoed to the door, overly cautious. After all, you couldn’t exactly remember how you had gotten here! It couldn’t hurt to be careful.

The door eased open a little more at your touch. Firelight played over the wall that you could see, bathing the wood in dancing shadows. You tried to open the door the rest of the way, but the hinges creaked loudly. You froze.

There was a rustling and the thud of rapidly approaching footfalls, then the door handle was wrenched out of your hand. You screamed, pressing your back to the wall next to the door as your fists raised instinctively. You were currently cornered by a stranger with a well-kept beard and strangely bleached streak in his hair. Said stranger shifted his weight nervously at your exclamation, his brow furrowed.

There were two other men in the room, you realized quickly. Your eyes were drawn without your conscious involvement to the coagulated puddle of blood at the light-haired man's side and you felt sick to your stomach as the large man with the tattoo covering his entire arm got to his feet. All three of them were so much bigger than you. Bruce Lee's Art Of Fighting might have made for excellent reading, but you were relatively certain that the absence of years of skilled training on your end rendered the knowledge down to historic clumps of text and black and white images.

“Gorgeous?” The light-haired man asked slowly, like he was addressing you. His face was overgrown with stubble and deep shadows marred the area beneath his piercing blue eyes. He looked exhausted and wary.

“I remember you.” You said shakily, jabbing a brave finger in the direction of the blond-streaked individual. An expression of guilt flitted across his face, strengthening your meager resolve. “You were hanging from the rafters and...and then you rushed me from the counter! And then I backed into you and...oh God, am I kidnapped? You knocked me out and kidnapped me! Where are my clothes?!” Your voice rose to a fever pitch, “I'll give you anything you want, I swear! M-My parents...they'll pay whatever amount you set, just please don't hurt me anymore!” You begged, cowering away from the man as best as you could.

“'Anymore'?” The man with the streak in his hair repeated, sounding confused.

“The back of my head is throbbing, I've got a lump and everything!”

“Let me see.” He demanded, reaching out again.

“Stay away from me! Don't touch me!” You cried, thankful beyond words when he immediately halted. “I just want to go home, p-please!”

The light-haired man exhaled hard, those eyes trained on the back of the man in front of you. “Give 'em some space, Seth.” He said finally. The tattooed man rolled his shoulders menacingly, but remained silent.

Seth (if that's really his name your brain piped up) however, began to protest. “Ambrose, I-”

“No. They're freakin’ out. Back off.” Ambrose (?) ordered. The man with the light streak (Seth?) obeyed without further question. “Look, uh, I promise, as weird as this all seems, we didn't...kidnap you.” Ambrose continued carefully, like he was maneuvering around telling you the whole truth. “Not really. More like...rescued?” He clearly noticed your look of disbelief, because he swore under his breath. You flinched at the curse, not used to such rough language. “You obviously remember your parents. D'you remember anything...specific about them?”

“They're away on a trip. They always are.” You replied curtly (hopefully not too curtly, these men were huge in their own right and you were deathly afraid of upsetting them). “What did you do to my security team?” A terrible thought struck you as you once again looked at the bloodied bandages on Ambrose's side. “Did you...you didn't...did you kill them?” You breathed, horrified.

“No, hell no! Listen to me, we did not kidnap you!” He exclaimed. “We're not kidnappers or murderers or whatever the fuck!” His irritated tone of voice did little to dissuade your concerns and you felt tears well up in your eyes. You tried to wipe them away, but more rushed in to take their place and began rolling down your cheeks. “There was a break-in, shit, over a year ago at this point, remember? Y'know, the reason why you had a security team in the first place?”

“S-Someone was...” A hazy image surfaced in your mind. The man with the streak in his hair (Seth?) slipping through your bedroom window, grinning like a fiend. “It was you, you broke in!” You accused, your finger yet again pointed in Seth’s direction. “You came in through my window!”

“I did sometimes.” Seth allowed. “You thought it was funny because I would go out through one window on the other side of the house, sprint across the roof and then swing in through yours. You don't...you don't remember that part?” He asked hesitantly. “We're uh...we're your current security team. Have been for almost a year now.”

You were shaking your head before he was even done speaking. “My parents only hired professionals.”

“Your parents.” The large man with the tattoo spoke up, his words a furious hiss. You shrank back at the harshness of his voice, wondering what your parents had done to earn his ire.

“Easy Roman.” Ambrose murmured, one hand on the other man's arm. Thick black hair surrounded Roman's face like a tangled halo, extending past his shoulders to curl at his collarbone. His frown was framed by a goatee the same color as his hair. The tattoo was menacing enough, but the way his brown eyes narrowed had you thoroughly on edge. He scared you the most if you were being brutally honest, his stony demeanor and imposing form utterly terrifying.

“Please.” You begged pitifully, hating how the three of them continued to study you. “I just want to go home.”

“You wouldn’t be sayin’ that if you knew what was waiting for y’ there.” Ambrose said sharply, getting a better grip on Roman’s arm and pulling himself upright. “We’re the only friends you’ve got in this whole fuckin’ world right now, gorgeous. We promised to-” He paused, grimacing.

“You need to lay back down.” Roman muttered.

“-Promised to keep you safe, no matter what.” Ambrose continued, his fingers digging into Roman’s shoulder hard enough to make the tan skin pale. “There was a breach. A security breach. Someone had been feelin’ out our perimeter and they finally acted on it last night. Rollins saw them first, he tipped us off.”

“Dean bought us the time we needed to get you to the Trackhawk.” Seth’s voice was low, grave. “We were pursued. You hit your head when I grabbed you. It was...it was my fault.”

“I want to talk to my parents.”

“Listen, if we break radio silence now there's a relatively good chance whoever is trying to get you will absolutely find you.” Seth stressed the words tersely. “We were supposed to have the holidays off. Like the gala. Do you remember the gala?”

--Someone dragged you into the shadows of an alcove, you swung with all your might--

“You grabbed me and I hit you!” You retorted.

“I apologized for scaring you! And we went bowling afterwards!” Seth squawked. “I’m not some perv, you were crying and-”

“Because that makes it better, right? Grabbing someone when they’re already freaking out?” Where was this courage coming from?

“-and I just wanted to make you feel safe!” Seth finished loudly, clearly frustrated. You glared at him for raising his voice, folding your arms across your chest. For whatever reason, you at least felt like you had a fighting chance when it came to him. Ambrose was obviously the voice of sanity, and Roman was scary. But Seth was different.

“Christ. Go easy on a guy, will you?”

You recalled the moment as clear as day, the way he had nonchalantly rubbed at his throat where you had landed your strike. Your blow was nothing but a nuisance to him. How long had you been stuck with these three? What else had happened? “I want to talk to my parents.” You demanded again.

Ambrose sat down heavily on the ottoman by the fire, dropping his head into his hands. “Dean?” Seth asked, a note of fear shining through his tone. Ambrose waved off his concern with a low grunt. Seth ignored him, moving to his side and crouching so he could see the other man’s face. “Dean…”

“Room’s spinnin’. Mighta’ lost more blood than I thought.” Dean admitted through his fingers.

“I knew it. Ambrose you need a hospital.” Roman’s words were dismissed with the violent shake of a tawny head.

“I’ve made it through worse shit than this.” Dean growled.

“That’s not the point, idiot, we weren’t supposed to have to go through the worse shit anymore!” Seth snapped. “This gig was supposed to do it.”

“Oh, because this is the first time a plan has collapsed on top of us, right?” Roman shot back bitterly. “We knew this job was messed up from the start.”

“I ain’t saying that and you know it! Shit Ro, I never wanted Ambrose to get hurt.” Seth’s voice softened oddly. “Didn’t want anyone to get hurt. I hoped we would figure out a way around this.”

“Fact of the matter is that you can’t talk to your parents.” Dean addressed you around their conversation. “If these people are find out where we are, there’s a damn good chance you’ll wind up bagged. I’m not tryin’ to scare you. I’m just bein’ honest. All you are right now is a paycheck. They been tryin’ t’ get ahold of you for ages. It was all part of the plan”

Your legs gave out and you slid down the wall, hitting the floor with a quiet thud. “I…please.” You said stupidly. Your head was pounding, the room wavering uncertainly before your eyes.

“Rollins, get them back into bed. They gotta’ rest.”

“You do not touch them! Only we can touch them!”

“Gorgeous, you with us? Sorry we’re late.”

“Just us. Only us. Only us.”

Fragments of conversations you didn’t remember having looped in your brain, tangling and twisting into a ball and drowning out the voices in the room.

“Easy, easy, it’s okay. We’re getting you out of here.”

“Trust me, no matter how you feel, you look even dumber.”

“It’s us, man. They got him.”

With more care than you would have expected from a kidnapper, Seth eased you upright and tucked the quilt back around your shoulders. Your body all but fell into his own and he steadied you with a hand on the small of your back. “Don’t touch me.” You whispered, no real bite behind your words.

Seth’s hand rose to your arm instead, his grip tightening. “Just to get you back into bed.” He bargained. “Please.”

You wanted to cry. “No. I can get there myself.”

The wounded expression on his face was only there for a split second, then it smoothed back into a neutral mask. “Alright.” He slowly, agonizingly slowly, let you go, brown eyes chilled with something unreadable while he watched you like a hawk.

You fumbled back into the bedroom, not daring to hold his gaze for any length of time. What the hell was wrong with you? Did you actually believe them? You had been kidnapped! Given a rap over the head and all but Shanghaied! Was this that Stockholm syndrome you had read so much about? Because if it was, it was more dangerous than you could have imagined.

You laid down on the bed, clutching the quilts with shaky hands. The way that Seth had looked at you stirred something in the pit of your stomach. You were certain that if you had maintained eye contact, you would have…well, it didn’t bear thinking about. You shivered, gripping the blankets even tighter.

His eyes had shone in the light from the fire, wary and guilty, but the longing in them had taken your breath away. Clearly, whoever this man was, this burglar-turned-kidnapper, his emotions ran deep. His touch, for whatever reason, sent shockwaves through your body. Was it just because he was attractive? You immediately scolded yourself for your lapse in judgement, of course it was because he was attractive! Nobody ever gave you the time of day, so naturally you would read too much into someone just looking at you. You huffed out a frustrated breath.

Their names are Dean, Seth, and Roman...

…

At some point you must have drifted off because the next thing you knew, cold white light was streaming into the room in earnest. You groaned, caught between disappointment and relief that this wasn’t some wild dream.

“Awake again. How’s your head, gorgeous?”

You were pretty sure the scary guy was going to take years off of your life. Roman, you reminded yourself while you tried to manage your heart rate. “Do you have to watch me while I sleep?” You finally squeaked out.

Roman shrugged from his spot in the rough-hewn chair beside the bed. He looked exhausted. “Until a couple seconds ago, I was asleep too. You moved. I’m a light sleeper.”

“Oh! You were probably up with uh…Am...Ambrose, right?” You deduced, rolling onto your stomach so you could really study Roman. He didn’t look nearly so scary in the daylight, but he was still a clear and obvious threat. It couldn’t hurt to butter him up a little.

Roman nodded, scrubbing at his face in an effort to rouse himself. “Yeah. I think he’s stable now. Hard to tell with him. You remember that, huh? Anything else?” He asked, sounding weirdly hopeful.

You scrunched up your nose, actually trying to think back. “No.” You admitted. “All I’ve got is bits and pieces.”

Roman put his head in his hands and was silent for a few minutes. “It’s okay.” He whispered, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or himself. “It’ll be okay. You’re gonna’ remember at some point and we’ll be there.”

Your brow furrowed. These guys were either fantastic actors or you had actually meant something to them. You’re their meal ticket, stupid! Stop making it easy for them to get into your head!

“Ro?” There was a timid knock on the door. “Hey I made breakfast, are they…” Rollins trailed off upon seeing you awake. “Oh! Morning. How do you feel?” He asked cheerily. Obviously he had slept better than Reigns. Reigns? Roman.

“I wish you guys would knock it off with this buddy-buddy act. It’s creepy.” You muttered, sitting up and folding your arms firmly when Rollins sat on the edge of the bed.

“We can’t help it, gorgeous. This is how we’re used to being around you.” Seth reached for you, then hurriedly pulled back like he remembered what he was doing. “I’m…I’m sorry.” He apologized jerkily.

Against your better judgement, you felt yourself soften a little. “You said something about breakfast?” You prompted him.

“Oh! Yeah, I made breakfast. Uh, Ro, food? Yeah?”

“Has Dean eaten?” Roman queried, standing up from his chair and stretching with a long, drawn-out groan.

“Made sure he ate first. I think he’s gonna’ make it.” Seth grinned. “If the amount of food he put away was any indicator, I’d say he’ll be up and about before you know it. He went right back to sleep once he was done.”

“Thank God.” Roman breathed, his shoulders slumping. “Food sounds great. You wanna’ watch them while I eat, or you wanna’ just bring everything-” Seth sprang off the bed and pushed the door open the rest of the way, picking up two plates. “-in here.” Roman finished, accepting a plate from the eager young man. “Breakfast is served, gorgeous.”

“Fuck you guys, leaving me all alone in the living room like I’m some kinda’ nuisance!” Seth winced at the volume of Dean’s voice, hurriedly passing you the other plate and then scurrying back into the living room.

“You want half of mine? I can’t eat this much.” You offered Roman quickly.

Roman glanced up, then sidelong at your overloaded plate. “If you’re sure you don’t want it, yeah. Can’t waste food.”

You scraped a hearty assortment of the eggs and bacon off your dish and onto his own, ignoring his murmured thanks. This was a strategic choice, to make sure your food hadn’t been poisoned or otherwise altered in a detrimental manner. You watched Roman narrowly while he tucked into the larger portion, observing his lack of hesitance or wariness as he ate.

Once he was nearly done, you took a tiny bite of your toast. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were beforehand and keeping track of Roman faded to the background of your mind as you devoured your breakfast.

“He’s a great cook for being such a crossfit weirdo.” Roman gestured towards the door with his fork, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I heard that!” Seth protested, returning to the bedroom with a bleary-eyed Dean hanging off of his shoulder. The light-haired man did look mildly improved; he had gotten some color back in his face.

“Heya’ gorgeous, miss me?” He asked cheekily, making a loud smooching noise with his mouth. Against your better judgement, you let a tiny giggle escape. “See Rollins? They’re still in there. Nobody can resist my charm for long, even if they don’t remember nothin’ else.” Dean grinned, giving Seth a weak punch in the shoulder.

“I will drop you, Ambrose.”

You quickly determined that you weren’t going to be left alone. For someone like you, this was a horrifying revelation. You valued your peace and quiet and these three were anything but. Thank God you found a few of your favorite books deep in the backpack Seth had said was yours.

The snowstorm appeared to have slowed to a light but steady flurry. Roman and Seth took turns shoveling out the vehicle you had glimpsed from the window, Seth waving off your offer of help. “I don’t want to risk losing y--er, losing anything in this rough weather.” He explained as he hung his jacket up by the fire to dry.

“That’s not fair to you guys though!” You protested, hiding your disappointment at the fact that he could see through your ploy so easily. So many half-hearted plans were fighting for space in your brain, you hadn’t really given much thought to what you might do if you did get outside. It was cold, and you hadn’t exactly brought your glacier-scaling gear. Plus, you had no idea where you were!

“If you’re hell-bent on killin’ yourself that’s fine. Go on ahead. But you’re not takin’ either of my boys with you.” Dean growled. “Gorgeous, I know you’re scared. I wouldn’t be so hot if I was in your shoes with my memories missin’. Please. Don’t do anythin’ stupid when you’re like this. I’m beggin’ you, please.” His tone had then dropped to a plaintive rasp, vastly different from his humorous jibes earlier. “You, Reigns an’ Rollins are all I’ve got in this world. I’ve…I’ve lost so much. Please, gorgeous.”

Seth hushed him, digging his fingers into his hair almost like he was petting him. Roman urged their partner to lay back down, saying, “You need rest, Ambrose. We don’t want to lose you either, you know.” His expression had softened to the point where he was no longer scary to you, his concern for Dean blatantly obvious through the tough façade he clearly tried hard to maintain.

Dean spoke with you at length while the other two were outside, the light-haired man attempting to lessen your worries in a way that seemed to give you as little information as possible. You hated to admit that, despite his roundabout way of talking, some of the things he mentioned resonated, shoving forward half-recollections from the dark patch that clouded your mind.

You shook your head, ducking underneath the covers and chewing on your thumb as you mulled over the day’s events. You were so conflicted. It wouldn’t have been as bad if your brain didn’t keep offering up weird little bits and pieces of past experiences that you couldn’t fully recall. For all you knew, they were telling the truth. But for all you knew, they weren’t. You flopped back on the pillows, pressing your fists to your forehead and fighting the urge to scream in frustration. Your mind kept looping one scene, startlingly vivid and searing a line of heat through your belly.

--Roman slamming his shoulder into the side of a man who had his hands tight on your upper arms, momentum sending the two of them to the ground. “You do not touch them!” He had announced firmly. “Only we can touch them!”

His face when he had said that, the look in his eyes...what if they were lying? What if they weren’t?

Something bumped against the door. Not hard enough to be a knock, but not light enough to be your imagination or just some creak of the cabin.

Curious now, you slipped out of the bed, shivering at the temperature of the floor. Once you left the safety of the covers, the cold latched onto your body. As fast as you dared, you snuck to the door and turned the handle. Roman was apparently sleeping against your door, his body slumped forward with that deadly-looking hand cannon resting on his right thigh.

You looked at the gun, up at his face and then back to the gun. He stirred and you knew you had to act quickly so he wouldn’t wake the others. Your plan was hardly half-formed when you put it in motion, closing the door again and straddling Roman’s lap. Despite his talk earlier of being a light sleeper, he showed no signs of waking. You cursed inwardly. Maybe you shouldn’t have put yourself in this position before-

He groaned and you sucked in a breath as his eyes drowsily opened. His brow furrowed, those brown eyes slightly crossed when he tried to focus on your face so close to his own. “Gorgeous?” He muttered, obviously caught off-guard.

Good.

“It’s me, Roman.” You whispered back. “Hi.” You took another gamble and cupped his face, rubbing your thumbs through the dark stubble that coated his jaw.

“Y…really?”

“Yes, I remember. I’ve missed you so much.” You said, trying to sound heartfelt.

The speed that he embraced you at startled you, as did the shuddering exhale into your neck. “Christ, gorgeous, I thought Seth was gonna’ go to pieces. When he grabbed you without unbuckling you and you hit your head…we thought you got shot. It was pandemonium.”

You almost felt guilty for playing him like this, but you were fairly certain you wouldn’t get straight answers any other way. “It’s alright. I don’t blame him.” Your hand closed on the grip of his abandoned gun, the weapon lighter than you expected. How to take down an opponent larger than you: You’re already going to be at a disadvantage.

“We should wake them up, they ought to-” You cut him off in a hurry by kissing him clumsily, making him grunt into your mouth before his fingers wove into your hair. His kisses were hungry, foreign and familiar all at once. Your body lit up, losing yourself in the sensation of closeness with another human being. This was so strange, barely-restrained emotions you couldn’t name surging wildly in your chest. You felt almost like you needed to cry.

Roman turned you around in his lap, touching his mouth to the junction of your neck and shoulder. He moved you easily, like he had done it a thousand times before. Maybe he had. Your mind tentatively fluttered a few images in the background when you felt his cock twitch through his pants.

“You’re all set for the night, gorgeous. You rest now.”

The muzzle of the gun pressed to the underside of Roman’s jaw and he went still, obviously comprehending the gravity of the situation. “I want answers.” You breathed, jabbing the unfamiliar weapon up a little harder. In the dim light from the fireplace, you could see the forms of Seth and Dean on the floor sound asleep. You would need to be stealthy about this.

“I don't think the gun is necessary.” Roman murmured back.

“Don’t screw with me.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I. Serious as cancer.” You gritted out. “Hot lead brain cancer.” You had heard the line in a movie once and you hoped against hope that Roman hadn’t seen the same film. The last thing you needed was him calling your bluff. It was all you could do to keep the gun steady where it dug into his jaw. Roman could easily overpower you. Easily. The easiest out of all of them.

But even he had his Kryptonite. “Damn, you’re intimidating like this.” You could hear the smile in his voice and your body was suddenly flush with heat once more. “What do you want to know?”

“I want straight, succinct answers, not the vague bull that Ambrose was feeding me. Where am I?”

“Different question.”

“You can’t do that!” You protested.

“I can’t, but I will. What are you gonna’ do? Shoot me or ask me a question that will give you an actual answer?” Roman challenged. You swore you could feel the rasp of his stubble travel down the gun’s barrel to the grip.

“Fine.” You spat, biting your lip. “What...what are you guys planning on doing to me?”

His hands stayed on your thighs, fingers digging into your skin while he mulled your question over. For whatever reason his erection didn’t seem to have wilted, continuing to press insistently against the small of your back even with a gun in his face. “I would apologize for my state, but I’m pretty sure you don’t care.” He whispered.

Oh, you cared. You cared immensely. “Naturally. Just answer the damn question.” You hissed. His hands pried your thighs open and shoved your left leg over his own. The right soon followed, spreading you wide in his lap with your back to his chest. You gasped and he covered your mouth, a grunt leaving him when you jabbed the gun upwards against the bottom of his jaw a little harder than before in warning.

“Easy now gorgeous, you’ll bruise me. Just making sure you don’t wake Ambrose or Rollins. They’re…jumpy.” Roman explained in an undertone. “You do have a gun in my face. I’d hate to get my brains blown out because they’re a little excitable.”

“Smart man.” You didn’t trust him as far as you could throw him. “Now, what are you guys planning on doing to me?”

“To you? Nothing. At least, nothing unless you consent to it.” You rolled your eyes. “With you though...we’re trying to figure that out. The people after you obviously have a pretty broad reach. You probably should have pulled this little stunt on Rollins. He’s the brains of the outfit.” Roman admitted. “All I know is that we were assigned to you with the warning of this eventually happening. Our organization figured it was our best bet, and your parents seemed to agree. Hell, why do you think we were hired in the first place? We aren’t security, gorgeous. You've probably already put that together.”

“You were…you were hired to kill me?” You asked weakly.

“What? No. Well...I mean, that might have been what people expected since our specialty is more to…neglect to protect our clients. We make it look accidental if someone winds up dead.” Roman shrugged as best as he could, like he hadn't dropped utterly chilling information onto you. “We were assigned to the rich kid bait under the assumption that your stalkers would know exactly who we are, as well as what we specialize in. It was supposed to press them into action. We just...” Roman hesitated, “We didn't expect you to be kind to us, we expected a spoiled brat. It changed our whole game plan, basically, and that spot with the guy in the bridal store was a little too close for comfort.”

-Seth jumping over the wall, his body shielding yours while the dressing room doorknob jiggled--

“You’re not like our usual assignments. We’ve told you that.” Roman swallowed hard. “We knew we needed to really be on top of things, or risk losing you. So we did what we do best. We trained. We stockpiled. We prepared.” He shifted beneath you. “Even trained you, as I’m sure you’ve put together by now. Taught you a few moves in case something happened and we were separated from you.”

“Bet you regret that.” You said triumphantly, prodding him with the gun.

Roman splayed his palm on your stomach, absently rubbing small circles. “I don’t regret a damn thing, gorgeous. I know you can’t remember much of it, but we've got no reason to lie to you. The months that we’ve had with you were the best that they could have been. We’re not giving that up without a fight.” He replied.

The raw honesty in his voice gave you pause. What if they weren’t lying? A little late for second thoughts, you’ve got a gun at his throat! You scolded yourself.

“Granted, being seduced and pumped for information at gunpoint is uh, a new one on me. But there’s a first time for everything.” He was smiling again, that jackass. You growled in irritation. “Wait, am I not being seduced?”

“You’re such a jerk.” You hated that you were blushing this hard. “Don’t get comfortable, big guy. Let’s not forget that you’re the one without the gun.”

“I haven’t gotten comfortable in the slightest. Mainly because I can tell how wet you are. You’re hot and dripping through my clothes, gorgeous. It’s hard to be comfortable when I should be inside you. Something you need to tell me about your power play fantasies?” He whispered in your ear, “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you like having me at your mercy.”

“Don’t say things like that!” You reprimanded him, feeling your legs trying to close on reflex while your body sought relief. His hands tightened on your thighs though, keeping you spread open on his lap.

“You could, if you wanted to. You can pretty much call the shots here, gorgeous. I know exactly how much power that gun’s got, and I’d rather not have it splitting my head open at this exceptional point blank range.” Roman’s voice was nothing but a deep purr, vibrating against your ear. “Wouldn't mind if you decided to maybe get a little greedy for me. A little demanding, even.”

What had you been planning on doing? Your head was filling slowly with half-memories, tastes and sensations flooding you in an overwhelming surge. You whimpered without meaning to and Roman seized the opportunity to kiss you again.

You somehow knew what to do in response to every curl of his tongue against your own. You remembered forms, caresses, shadowy longing. An aching familiarity mixed with the uncertainty of your piecemeal recollections, fanning the flames of confusion and arousal in your stomach.

“Because of who we are…what we do, we promised each other that we would take priority over every mission.” Roman gasped out when the two of you parted once more. “And then…and then you came along. The bait for the trap. With all your books and your family that wasn't and we just…we lost, gorgeous. We lost hard.” You went to move and Roman grabbed your wrist, keeping the gun firm. “Oh no you don’t. If you’re shooting someone, it’s going to be me.” His eyes were downright ferocious in the dim light from the fire and it slowly dawned on you that he was absolutely serious.

“You would die for them, huh?” You tried to sound nonchalant, pushing the gun up again to punctuate your question.

“For them and you.” Roman replied sternly. “Without hesitation.” He pressed his mouth to your own once more, fervent murmurs escaping his lips to hang half-spoken in the heated air between you.

“I don’t understand.” You managed to murmur through his ravenous kisses. “Why would you…”

“I know.” Roman tapped the elastic band on your borrowed pair of sleeping shorts. “It doesn’t matter. You call the shots.”

“Your cock out, now.” You demanded before you could really think about how crazy this was. “If you can still get it up with a gun to your head.”

“Lord have mercy, you’re a fucking terror.” Roman choked out after a few moments of silence. He reached down to unzip his pants, shoving the fly open and straining to free his cock through the hole in his boxers. You were starting to suspect that Roman might possibly have a few…quirks of his own when it came to this situation. His body obviously didn’t mind being held at gunpoint.

“You’re supposed to be scared.” You snapped.

“Did I not just call you a terror?” Roman asked. “I work decent under pressure. Try not to make me panic here. Won’t end well for me.” He knocked his chin against the barrel of his hand cannon. “You just keep that gun right where you've got it, and I'll do whatever you want.”

You reached down silently, your fingers closing around his own on his shaft. Roman's breath hitched. “I think you wanted this, Roman.” You whispered. “Is it hard being like you all the time? So strong and brave and in charge?” You gave him a lazy stroke and his head fell back against the door, baring his entire throat to you. You watched his adam's apple bob with his next convulsive swallow.

“Please.” His voice was hardly there. “God damn it, please gorgeous.”

You nuzzled your nose into his neck beside the barrel of the gun and Roman shuddered all over, one hand moving downwards to cup your groin through the thin material of your sleeping shorts. “You're not putting your cock inside me.” You murmured. “I'm not that dumb.”

He wrapped his other hand back around his cock and started stroking himself. “That's fine. I don't need to put my cock inside you.” He grunted. “You're wet through these shorts, gorgeous. This pussy wants me. But hey, deprivation is self-discipline, right? It's not like I can't get myself off like this.” He gently pressed the heel of his palm down on your pubic mound, igniting sparks in your core. “That's right.” He murmured in response to your harsh inhale. “Grind against my hand, circle those hips and use me to get off. Do it gorgeous, do it.”

Your grip on the gun faltered but Roman didn't even seem to notice, kissing you again and rutting his hips upwards to meet his fist. His index finger sought out your clit through the thin fabric of your shorts, stroking over the sensitive nub and grinning when you gasped into his mouth.

“I've got you now, gorgeous. You want someone to dominate? Someone to boss around? I'm pretty sure I can fufill that particular need even better than the guys in your books. You just keep wriggling like that and-” Roman's words choked off as you jabbed him with the gun again, cutting off his breath and forcing his chin up.

“So full of yourself.” You muttered, taking his shaft in your hand and feeling more than hearing him groan. “You're not going to do anything except be obedient.” You rubbed the head of his cock roughly, running your thumb over the slit with firm, repetitive strokes.

“I'm gonna' come.” He choked out suddenly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm coming--” Roman shuddered beneath you, his hips jerking as his cock spurted onto your thighs and stomach. “Hah, fuck.” He gasped, his chest heaving against your back. “That's fucking embarrassing. Oh well.”

His arms suddenly wrapped around you from behind, pinning your arms to your sides. The gun hung uselessly down by his thigh as Roman took a few deep, steadying breaths. You squirmed, marveling inwardly at the lack of terror that you felt even while being restrained.

“You alright, Reigns?” Oh no, Ambrose was awake. You watched in horror as Rollins sat up next to Dean, rubbing his eyes and yawning widely.

Roman ignored the other men for a moment. “A gun only works under two conditions, gorgeous. One: you have to be mentally prepared to pull the trigger. And two: it needs to be loaded.” Roman hissed in your ear.

Your eyes widened.

Roman paused. “Oh, and the safety needs to be off. Three conditions.” His grin was insufferably smug.

“You…oh wow.” Seth seemed to be at a loss for words. You didn’t miss the way his eyes rested on Roman’s cock, still twitching against your stomach over your night shirt.

“This could be the kinkiest shit I see in person in my lifetime.” Dean announced, making Roman laugh. “You fucked him, with a gun to his head? Ku-fuckin’-dos, gorgeous. Kinda’ surprised he didn’t pump you full in retaliation, honestly.”

“You knew it wasn’t loaded!” You exclaimed, knowing that you had no real right to be upset. This strategy had been half-baked at best. Roman tapped your wrist and you released his gun without a fight. You felt yourself go bright red in the face with embarrassed frustration while Roman flipped open the revolver with a practiced flick of his wrist and spun the dry chambers, illustrating that there hadn’t been any danger whatsoever. “Why even go along with it then? You just wanted me to make a fool of myself or something?”

Roman shook his head. “I liked it, why wouldn't I go along with it?” He grinned, “Granted, you startled me at first. I didn't think you had it in you, gorgeous.”

A hand cupped your chin, gently pulling it upwards. Seth offered you a smile. “Hey, it was a good try. Would have worked in a scenario where you were actually in danger, no doubt. You used the resources you had access to.” He praised.

“Fat lot of good it did me!”

“It would have kept you alive. That’s all that matters.” Seth said firmly. “Now, how about you come with me and I’ll get you cleaned up, okay?”

Roman gave you a teasing nip on the neck before you got up and you squealed, smacking his chest. Dean chuckled, “Show him who’s boss, gorgeous,” loudly smooching your cheek on the way by.

Seth led you to the bathroom, sitting you up on the sink like you were a small child and then rummaging in the closet for a washcloth. “Are you alright?” He asked softly while he ran the tap.

You nodded, pursing your lips. “Not like I won’t get over being embarrassed.” You raked a hand through your hair, feeling the twitch of an aftershock send a delicious shudder down your spine. You hadn't come from Roman's haphazard ministrations and you couldn't help but wonder whether he would have fucked you if you had let him.

“I’m glad. Glad you didn’t hurt Roman, either.” Seth was dangerous. Seth meant what he said. “We’re all we’ve got in the world, so we try to take care of one another.”

“Roman mentioned.” You grumbled.

“Did he tell you why?” You shook your head and Seth sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “There was an assignment that…the client got in my head. Real deep.” He muttered, seeming ashamed. “I almost got Reigns and Ambrose killed. It was so close to happening. Ambrose…heh, he can take a lot, but that just about broke him.” Seth stared down at the now-wet washcloth in his hands.

“What happened?” You asked, your curiosity getting the best of you. “I mean, if you want to tell me you can. You don’t have to.” You hurriedly amended.

“We hadn’t really uh, spilled the beans to one another. About…about the fact that we all liked each other a little more than partners normally do. Look, specifics don’t matter. Long story short, Ambrose got fucked up pretty badly. Roman could at least still move but…shit, I thought he was going to kill me himself.” Seth’s little laugh was mirthless, a hollow noise. “There was blood everywhere and I was bawling my eyes out. Roman had his cannon to my head saying that he wanted answers while he’s trying to hold pressure on his shoulder with his other hand and Ambrose just…it was like he came back from the dead out of sheer spite.”

“-don’t bring a knife to a gun fight-”

“So he’s stubborn.” You shook off the memory of Dean’s voice, unsure of when that had even been from.

“That’s the understatement of the century. Dean cracked his head into mine and he screamed, ‘you’ll have to do better than that!’, this maniac grin on his face the whole time. He had his fingers wrapped around my throat, Roman’s hand cannon all primed up against my skull itching to pull that trigger. I’ve never apologized so hard in my life. I begged for forgiveness.”

Seth spread your legs and carefully smoothed the washcloth over your thighs, making you shiver. You wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself, needing an anchor. He hummed soothingly, letting you rock against the pressure of his hand.

“Once we had Ambrose safe and sound in a hospital, Roman took me aside and told me in no uncertain terms that I was on thin ice with him. He absolutely would have killed me.” Recalling Roman’s deadly fierce expression from earlier, you could see it happening. “’Love is a garbage thing, Rollins. Makes my hands shake. Makes me hesitate, second-guess.’ He sounded so angry with himself.” Rollins shook his head, working the warm cloth in small circles. “He punched me right in the mouth and then he hugged me so tight I thought he was gonna’ break my spine.”

Your whine seemed to catch him by surprise. His story was doing nothing to distract from the fact that he was absolutely teasing you on purpose, the warm washcloth equal parts calming and riling. You hiccupped in a breath and he groaned, a kiss landing right beneath your ear. “Seth.” You said softly.

“Yes, gorgeous?”

It had been so much simpler with Roman. You hadn't had time to think. Now you felt shaky, restless in a way that made your knees tremble. Hungry. “Seth, I...I'm scared.” You admitted. He immediately went to move back, his expression concerned. But you caught the back of his neck, rooting him in place. “Not of you. Any of you. I'm scared because if...if what you guys told me is true, that means that we're all in trouble.”

“Not unless we lose you.” Seth breathed, touching his forehead to your own. “Trust me, that's when the real trouble would happen.”

“I want to believe you.”

“It's okay if you don't.” Seth replied kindly. He kissed you and you leaned into it, fingers grasping desperately at his shirt. “Easy gorgeous. I'm not going anywhere.” He murmured, sliding down your body and spreading your legs. “I'm here. Only us. Even if you don't remember, only us.”

...

“Only us.” A large, tan hand dug into Seth's hair, tugging hard enough to make his eyes roll back in his head. Roman kissed the other man's throat when he bared it, gently nipping the stubbled skin with his teeth.

You had gone back to bed after spending a considerable amount of time with Rollins in the bathroom. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the two of you had been doing, so both Dean and Roman were a little surprised when their brother in arms emerged red-faced and clearly hard. The slick coating his beard had offered an excellent clue though, and Ambrose wasted no time cleaning up.

“They taste so damn good, don't they?” He gasped into Seth’s mouth, sloppily tracing his tongue along his facial hair. Seth nodded furiously. “You took care of them? Made sure they didn't go to bed riled up?”

“They're better, yeah. I just wish they would believe us.” Seth sighed, tearing up a little and doing his best to play it off. “They remember bits and pieces. Nothing solid. I know they trust us. I doubt they would have let me get them cleaned up and put my mouth on them if they didn't trust me.” He twiddled his fingers and then moaned as Roman slid his hand into his boxers.

“You're dripping, Rollins. See somethin’ you like?” Dean teased, his tongue poking out from between his teeth.

“Hah, Roman with his cock out and a gun to his head was uh…” Seth shuddered all over as he recalled the moment: stirred from his sleep by rhythmic motion, turning over into his side and realizing that Ambrose was already awake and watching, always watching, as Roman cradled you in his lap and rolled his hips up to meet your hand.

Ambrose had shot Seth a predatory grin and jerked his chin up, pointing out the gun that you held underneath Reigns’ jaw. It was Roman's gun. Roman always had it with him, but he never actually had it loaded unless they were actively working. His reasoning was that if someone was planning on doing anything unsavory, the last thing he wanted was them swiping his gun with bullets ready in the chamber. Obviously you didn't remember that, and it sure as hell made for a thrilling display.

“Maybe I could get ‘em to hold a knife on me.” Dean mused in the here and now, laughing quietly at the responding pitiful whine from Seth. “Oh you like that idea? Good.”

“I dunno’, Dean. Can't exactly unload a knife.” Roman warned pragmatically.

Dean's grin was even wider than before. “Yeah, ain't it great?”

“You got some weird kinks, Ambrose.”

“Uh, I'm sorry, were you not the one fucking the hand of someone with a gun ready inna’ position to pulp ya’ tongue and brains? It would seem that someone in the group is finally freakier than I am.” Dean nudged Roman in the ribs. “Knives are one thing, but guns, Ro?”

“Only if I know it's unloaded!” Roman protested. “I...It's the feeling of it, I guess. I'm so used to the cannon it's kinda’ mundane. Someone else touching it, holding it-”

“Strokin’ the trigger, slidin’ it under your jaw nice an’ easy...are we still talkin’ about the gun, or did ya’ change y’ dick's name while I wasn't payin’ attention?”

“I was talking about the gun.” Roman palmed over Seth's stomach.

“Can we do that sometime?” Seth begged. “Promise I'll be careful.”

“As if I need incentive to rail you harder.” Roman muttered, his rude words achingly fond. “Sure, I'll let you play with my gun if you let me play with yours. Unloaded. Deal?”

Rollins’ voice cracked when Roman groped his cock, his thumb rubbing small circles just beneath the head exactly how Seth liked it. Dean quickly got in on the action himself, shoving Seth's shirt up to lick and suck at his nipples until Seth had to bite down on his own knuckles in a losing effort to keep quiet. “N--not fair, Dean-” He gasped.

His partners knew every button to press, every inch of sensitive skin to torment. He was helpless under their attentions, trapped between them in the best way possible. His surrender wasn't something instinctive. Seth was not a submissive person by nature; he had fought his way to the top of every pile he had ever been thrown under. But this wasn't about submission. He could tease Roman until the other man begged to be fucked. He could make Ambrose do whatever he asked, whenever he asked. It wasn't about submission. It was about the trust the three of them had.

The four of them had.

Seth felt tears roll down his cheeks when he came and he rubbed at his eyes, sniffling pitifully. Roman enveloped him in a warm hug and Dean began stroking his hair in a comforting manner. “It's alright, Seth.” Reigns whispered. “We miss them too.”

Seth gave in to crying in earnest then, his whole body wracked with sobs as he just slumped against Dean's chest and felt Roman hug him a little tighter. “Cry it out, y’ big baby.” Ambrose encouraged roughly. “We got work t’ do, so clear your system and then we'll put y’ to bed.”

“Thank you.” Rollins huffed out, feeling stupid for losing his composure but grateful that his brothers didn't judge him.

Eventually the three of them made their way to the blankets on the floor, all tucked up against one another in a tangle of limbs. Seth found sleep quickly, even with his face half-crushed into Roman's chest.

…

The whole exchange with Seth had given you goosebumps. Just like Roman, there had been an odd melancholy that seemed to lurk in his eyes when he looked at you. Seth was all heat, more focus, his attention wholly on you while he worked you over with eager, expert motions.

Despite his delicious efforts, sleep was not in your future. You found yourself lying on your back in the bed (which seemed far too large now), fidgeting with the covers. Soft sounds from the other room caught your attention, and you craned your neck in an effort to listen harder.

Uncertain as to whether the noises you were hearing were pained or...otherwise, swamped with a sense of deja vu, you snuck to the door and peeked into the next room.

Seth was sandwiched between the other two men, his shoulders heaving with deep sobs. Roman was holding him and Dean was running his hands through his hair, both men quietly reassuring him while he wept. It was a surprisingly tender scene and your heart ached a little, that foreign familiarity striking yet again.

You kept watching as the three of them laid down, huddled up on blankets on the floor. You felt a spike of shame lance through your stomach. Here you were, taking up the bed while the three of them (one of them still healing from a gunshot wound, no less) bedded down on the floor.

You slipped from your room and sidled up to Dean, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “I'm awake.” He muttered, startling you enough that you flinched. “Need somethin’, gorgeous?” He blinked up at you, his arms still folded across his chest.

You silently extended your hand and Dean took it after a second, his brow furrowing when you knelt and whispered, “You guys should come sleep in my room.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked, sounding suspicious. “Why's that?”

“Because I really doubt that the floor is more comfortable than the bed, and the bed is huge-”

“We ain't tryin’ to hurt you, gorgeous. We also ain't tryin' to get ourselves hurt.” Dean said seriously. “Facts is facts. You believed that gun was functionin’ an’ the only thing that kept Reigns from gettin’ his brains blown out is his own goddamn forethought.” He shook his head, getting to his feet. “Ain't a pretty picture.”

“What have you done in situations where you were alone and thought you couldn't win?” You snapped.

“That's the key right there, ain't it. ‘Thought’. Listen to me, gorgeous. Hear this, even if you wanna’ ignore everythin’ else.” Ambrose tilted your chin up so you had to look him in the eye. “I never believed that there was a situation I wouldn't get out of. I've put all my trust in those two over there. And into you, more recently.” He shrugged, “Sure, I've been concerned once or twice. Rollins probably toldja’ about that though.”

“What actually happened?” You whispered. Dean looked down at the other two men, carefully took your arm and silently led you back into the bedroom. Once you sat down, he stood in front of you with his hands at his sides. Despite the obvious attempt at looking relaxed, you could see his fingers twitching every so often.

“I took my own knife to the back.” He said finally. “Guy was a big fan of brute force vindication, so he whipped it around on me an’ gave me a nice couple of kidney divots.” Ambrose tugged at the neck of his t-shirt and tapped the top of a faded scar that crested his shoulder. “He ripped me open from hip to nape, plain and simple. Blood loss was one thing. The internal damage was kinda’ what had me woozy, though.”

You put a hand over your mouth, stunned. Rollins had dumbed down the scenario, it would seem.

“I was layin’ there in a pool of my own blood, Rollins all curled up around me fightin’ the guy off, protectin’ me a day late and a dollar fuckin’ short.” Dean pointed his index finger at your temple like it was the barrel of a gun. “Reigns came in and blew our client away, then he was on Rollins like a bad suit. Never heard Roman yell like that before.”

“You guys forgave Seth, though. Why?” You cast a glance over at the ajar door. “He could have gotten you killed.”

“Death's a workin’ hazard. I knew that, a’ course. Made peace with it. If he had any sense, Rollins would have ditched us before that went down. I think he was havin’ second thoughts. Doubtin’ himself an' his motives.” Dean stretched, wincing as the bandaging on his ribs pulled at his skin. “Day late and a dollar short, like I said, but at least he knew he fucked up.”

“Why do you guys even do this stuff? Why not just work as normal security or something?”

“I do it because I ain't got nowhere else to go, gorgeous. No blood family. Nobody else except me.” Dean's expression had gone hard. “Roman does it because his pops wanted him to be in the business. Seth does it because he had somethin' to prove and he didn't wanna’ get eaten alive in Spec Ops.” Dean sighed, smoothing his shaggy hair back from his face. “I do it as a way to even the shit odds of this planet. We ain't assigned to good people, okay? You were a weird case. We jumped on it because your parents were totally willing to offer you up as bait. It was our best chance at nabbing these fucks, especially since you'd already had a visit from ‘em.”

“Instead, you had to play babysitter.” The pieces were starting to fall into place for you.

“We figured, fuck it, we can take care of this rich fuck's spawn. We're professionals. Cut off one head to get to the next. We didn't expect you to be so...I dunno’, genuine.” Dean admitted. “Didn't expect you to be so pretty. Didn't expect you to be so damn kind to us.” He gestured up and down, taking in your entire body. “You wrecked us, gorgeous.” He sounded almost angry. “Bent us to y’ fuckin’ will without even tryin’. We stopped plannin’ how we would step over you to get to the bad guys and started payin’ more attention to the way your dad an’ y’ mom treated you. The long bouts of fuckin’ silence, the momentary affections an’...I mean, I still don't get what the end game is. But it don't matter. Cards on the table.” He finished firmly, “We're not lettin' you get kidnapped or ransomed or whatever the hell.”

“Oh.” You said weakly.

“Sorry, I know you were jus’ bein’ polite. Probably weren't expecting the word vomit.” Ambrose muttered self-consciously. “Tryin' to clear up any confusion is all. Been runnin' it over in my head tryin’ to phrase shit right.”

“It's okay. Thank you.” You took his hand, smiling up at him. “You guys have been so kind to me.”

“It's the other way around. Trust me.”

…

Your phone buzzed with a message, waking you from a sound sleep. You wondered at that, thoroughly confused as you fumbled to pick up the phone and unlock it. You didn't think you even had service out here!

-Come outside

You were wide awake now, staring down at the screen with your brow furrowed. A few seconds passed with you just...stock still, reading and rereading the message. It was from a private number, and it was too short to really discern anything about the person's identity.

You slipped out of bed, tiptoeing into the living room.

-Who is this?

-Unless you want those men to get hurt do as I say come outside NOW

Your mind whirled with confusion. Who could this be from? Was this person even able to cause harm to the three men currently sleeping? You gulped, wondering if the cabin had been staked out by snipers or people with night vision goggles.

You remembered the haunted look on Seth's face.

Were you willing to risk it?

You heard movement in the other room and cursed your luck as Rollins leaned against the doorway. “Gorgeous, what're you doing up so early? Y'woke up Roman n’ I.” He yawned, running a hand through his hair. You quickly stepped into an old pair of boots that you had taken note of beside the door. Seth cocked his head to the side. “Gorgeous?” He sounded a little more awake now and you knew you had to act fast. Your hand closed around the doorknob. “Hey, wait, what-”

You yanked open the door and were greeted with a frigid blast of cold air, ignoring it in favor of continuing to bolt.

“Gorgeous!” Seth shouted from the door and you whirled to face him, wrapping your arms around your body.

“Don’t try to follow me!” You said firmly, already shivering. “I'm serious, Seth!”

“I'm not letting you go out here, dammit! You'll freeze dressed like that!” Seth swore, yanking on his own boots. “We're not letting you die out here!”

“You need to stay inside for your own good!” You yelled, making him pause.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘for my own-'!” His words were drowned out by the sound of a rapidly-approaching small motor. You had only half-turned when something struck the back of your head, sending you tumbling face-first into the snow. For the second time in your life, the warm blackness devoured you.

…

Diesel groaned, scratching the nape of his neck and making his spiked gray hair fluff up even further. “Lemme’ get this straight.” He began slowly. “You guys want permission to...go after this kid. We scrubbed the assignment but you guys want my permission to go after Gold to get the kid back. The one that he kidnapped from you because you swiped them out from beneath his nose, right?”

“Yes sir.” Seth continued to stare straight ahead.

Diesel sighed. “Why the fuck do you want to go after him yourselves? The kid was supposed to be bait, remember? We were gonna’ send another team-”

“It’s personal now sir.”

“That gives me like, even less incentive to put you three back on this. What the fuck Rollins, c'mon.” Diesel scolded. “You coulda’ tried to make up an excuse or something, man. Am I not worth lying to?”

“I'm not going to damage my reputation by lying to you, sir. I know there's plenty of people here that still see me as a traitor. I am being one hundred percent honest with you.” Seth's voice shook a little and Ambrose placed a hand on his shoulder. “We need to be put back on this.”

“No, you want to be put back on this.” Diesel opened a drawer in his desk. “I'm not redoing your briefing, I can't guarantee any backup-”

“Understood.”

“Let me finish, damn it.” Diesel jabbed a finger at Seth, his brow furrowed. “I might be lazy, little man, but I'm no fool. You three and your relations with one another are quickly becoming a working hazard. You add another person into your mess and it might just blow up in your face. I ain't hatin' on your free and easy lifestyle, just your lack of regard for your own wellbeing! You guys are good at what you do. Don't fuck this up for yourselves.”

“We need to save them. We...We're all they have.” Rollins said quietly. “Imagine being alone and scared with a gaping hole in your memories, with parents that would willingly hand you over to be bait! Goldberg is going to hurt them, I know he is. We need to stop him.”

“Cut the bleeding-heart bullshit, Rollins. You three trying your luck at Errol Flynn-ing this kid isn't something that I can condone.” Diesel slid a folder out of the drawer, opening it up and spreading the contents so they were easily viewable from the other side of the desk. “My hands are tied here, boys. I'm sorry.” He paused, then winked, tapping his finger on a highlighted paragraph. “We don't really know where Goldberg’s gone to ground anyway. This is a dead end.”

“Of course. We're sorry we wasted your time.” Dean muttered, his eyes still latched onto the pages on the desk. “Thank you anyway. For er, bein’ willing to listen to us.”

Diesel waited until Ambrose shot him a sidelong look beneath his bangs before he tucked the file back into his desk. “Now, you boys enjoy the holidays. See Michaels for another assignment if you don't want the time off.”

“Yeah.”

Rollins was squinting at the older man, as if he was waiting for him to do something. Diesel grunted and made a shooing motion. “Get outta’ my office.”

Once the trio had left, Diesel leaned back in his chair and speed dialed Michaels.

“What's up Big?”

“Who do we have active right now? Yeah, I know you sent the report this morning. Just humor me and refresh my memory, man.” Diesel leaned back even further in his chair, running a hand through his hair yet again.

There was a pregnant pause and then Michaels grudgingly obliged, “Logs showin’ recent check ins from our kid in Bulgaria, the Everglades lightin’ up like a damn Zemeckis star field, we have more activity in Canada and Mexico-”

“Well at least I didn't lie to ‘em about the no backup.” Diesel sighed, rubbing at his temples. “Why the fuck can't the clowns of the world take the holidays off?” He grumbled.

…

You woke up in your own bed. You laid there motionless for a second, then bolted upright as memories flooded you. You remembered hitting your head, not knowing who your security team was, the cabin, trying to hold Roman at gunpoint, Seth-

Goldberg. Your blood ran cold. So that was why you'd been offered up as bait. Your father had sometimes griped about him in the background of Skype calls. You only vaguely remembered seeing the large bald man on television once, and it wasn't for anything good. So this was what he was up to? Kidnapping? Or extortion? Both? You could hope it was something that simple.

“Rise and shine kiddo. It's Christmas morning.” You jolted, so deep in thought you hadn't even heard the man approach. “Spacey as usual, I see. Daddy dearest wasn't lying there.” He sighed, seeming disappointed. “Really hoped you'd put up more of a fight, honestly. Wanted to have a few bruises to help ease the bucks out of your parents’ wallet.”

Your fists clenched beneath the blankets.

“Ah well, can't be helped. C'mon, it's time for lunch already. You've been sleeping for ages, blunt force trauma does that to a person.” Giving you no option to argue, Bill Goldberg took your elbow and hauled you out of bed. Your knees shook and he grunted when you almost collapsed. “Shit, you're frail. Neglect, I guess.” The hand on your arm was like a vice. You could feel the strength in his fingers alone, like Seth but entirely malicious. There was no holding it in check to keep from scaring you, he was attempting to intimidate and it was absolutely working.

You followed him downstairs, doing your best to appear docile. The whole time your mind was pitching back and forth, rattling down a list of options that grew more and more farfetched. Fear suddenly squeezed at your heart and before you could think about it you blurted out, “did you hurt them?”

“Who?” Goldberg asked nonchalantly.

“Don't play dumb with me!” You snapped.

“Easy with that attitude, kiddo. You want a beating? Just for the sake of argument I'll assume you're talking about your ‘security’ team.” Goldberg chuckled. “What a joke! They didn't even come after me! Of course, me being on a snowmobile probably factored in to the nonexistent pursuit of your kill squad.” He mused, his eyes fixed on you while you flushed uncomfortably. “I guess they really had you fooled. You know they don't really do security, right? Or did they not even have the balls to tell you that much?”

“Ambrose told me-”

“Can’t even believe he's still alive.” Goldberg muttered like he was talking to himself. “Never mind. I don't really give a shit. I whipped up something for lunch and I expect you to eat. After we've got some food into you, we'll give your folks a little Christmas call. Can't have you passing out from hunger, now can I?”

You stared at your plate once he sat you down at the long table in the dining room, your brow furrowed. “What did you do to this?” You asked incredulously, poking the lump of charcoal that might have been a pile of hamburger at one point. “You're how old and you don't even know how to cook something as simple as a burger?” You knew that your flippant words were reckless, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You were on your own, with nothing but the training that you'd been given by Seth, Dean and Roman.

How to take down an opponent larger than you: You’re already going to be at a disadvantage. First things first, get your opponent off-balance.

Bill appeared to be ignoring you. The only indicator that he heard you was the vein in his forehead growing more and more prominent.

“You do realize that my family regularly frequents high-class restaurants, right?” You needled, folding your arms across your chest and making a show out of turning your nose up. “I wouldn't feed this to a dog, Mr. Goldberg.”

“Keep it up kiddo.” He hissed, twisting the handle of his fork in the tablecloth. “I'm sure your parents wouldn't care if I had you skip a few meals.”

“Naturally. They'd probably applaud you. Should have heard my mother wailing about getting my gala dress refitted.” You shot back. He was jealous, you realized, taking in how he had set the table. Silverware in the wrong places, too many dishes for the lone course he had made and the fanciest tablecloth in the linen closet. He appreciated the finer things in life despite obviously having little practice in utilizing them, playing at opulence with the clumsy enthusiasm of a child.

There was a crash that sounded like it came from the foyer and Goldberg glanced up in confusion, his fork hovering in midair. You saw his hand shaking. Just a tiny bit.

“Kiddo, did you invite anyone else for lunch?” He asked you calmly, the furrow between his brows a textbook warning sign.

You shook your head and the older man struck, his fingers clamping down on the back of your neck and slamming your head into the table. Your vision greyed out for a second, right hand instinctively digging at your hip for the knife Ambrose had given you as a birthday present. But you didn’t have it. Of course you didn’t.

“Don’t lie to me, you little brat.” Goldberg hissed. “No one else could be out there. No one else gives a fuck about you. Not even your own parents. How much did you pay them to get them on your side? Whatever it is, I can double it easily.” He was seething. “This game is over.”

Pay? You think their loyalty can be bought, you mused inwardly. And I’m the dumb one.

The French doors to the foyer burst open and in strode three very familiar men. “Guys!” You cried, wincing in pain when Goldberg slammed your head down a second time.

“Not another step closer.” Goldberg warned. “Whatever they’re paying you, I can top it. You boys would be damn useful on my side of the law.”

Seth looked about ready to explode out of his own skin. He had that sniper rifle slung over his shoulder, nearly as long as he was tall, and he just…tossed it aside. You felt Goldberg twitch at the motion. “You're going to regret this.” Rollins said softly.

“Whoa whoa whoa, hang on a sec.” Dean clapped a hand on Seth’s shoulder, pulling him back. “Look old man, if you’re willin’ to up the ante…” He paused, raising an eyebrow. “We can be reasonable. Ain’t no need for bloodshed on our part, right Rollins?”

“Consider your payment doubled.” Goldberg was grinning wildly. “See kiddo? This is why people like me win, and people like you lose.” He released you, and then caught you by surprise when he slammed your head back down a final time in passing.

…

Seth bit his lip so hard that his skin crunched in warning. His eyes were fixed on you, breath pulling unevenly in his chest as he barely kept himself from blindly lunging at Goldberg. Remember how to do this. Keep quiet. Make him forget that you’re here. Ambrose will talk. Roman will be obvious. You can be invisible.

You hadn’t moved since Bill had cracked your skull into the table. Seth forced himself to ignore your motionless form.

“Gold, I know you say you can double what they’re givin’ us. But uh, you gonna’ give us any proof? Our current handlers ain't exactly hurtin’ for cash, so I’m kinda’ drawin’ a blank on this whole ‘doubling’ thing.” Dean drawled, leaning on Roman’s shoulder and giving the older man a leering smirk. “You’re willing to kidnap and threaten a defenseless person with violence to get a couple hundred thou’ outta’ their family, collateral damage don’t mean shit to you. Plus the little stunt you pulled with your posse invadin’ the house in the dead of night almost had me buyin’ the farm. Didn't want us collectin’ your paycheck?”

“You boys were getting ready to strike. It was a fun game we played, you three trying to lull me into a false sense of security with bowling.” The older man accused. He was wisely keeping his distance, making sure the long banquet table stayed between him and the three men. “I’m sorry, I didn’t consider bowling to be a vital part in your strategy!”

“We needed to get the kid outta’ the house.” Ambrose shrugged, picking at a scab on his chin. “It’d be easier to manipulate them an’ make it look like an accident if they trusted us. You know that from personal experience. Ain’t our fault they were a shut-in.”

While Ambrose prattled on Seth eased back a step, then another. Casual, nonchalant. Dean's hand behind his back flashed a series of fingers at him. Two together, a pause, and then one. Wait a minute.

“Gold, you know above all that we're reasonable guys. You wanna’ know how much our sweet little thing was payin’ us to keep them safe?” Seth could picture the shit-eating grin on Dean's face. “Not a fuckin’ cent. We're paid by our organization. That's it. So if you can double nothin’, I guess y’ must be a man of great fuckin’ substance.”

Goldberg sputtered, obviously at a loss for words, and Dean quickly beckoned Rollins on behind his back while Roman grabbed hold of Dean's other wrist. Seth had a running start of only a few feet and he hoped and prayed it was enough, bolting forward and planting his boot in the cradle his brothers had created to launch him up and over.

It was apparently more than adequate momentum. Seth hastily tucked his head in for the flip over Dean and Roman, bending his knees and rolling through the landing to skid to a halt bare inches from Goldberg’s face. The dishes on the table clattered in his wake and Bill just...stared at him, nose to nose.

“Like I said.” Seth whispered, grabbing the collar of the larger man's shirt. “You're going to regret this.”

“Oh I doubt th-” Whatever smug remark Goldberg had been about to make was cut short by the sound of a blade being drawn. Seth hadn't even noticed Dean and Roman moving to flank him, and from the look on Goldberg's face it appeared that he hadn't either.

“Choose your words real careful, paycheck.” Dean growled, the blade of his knife sliding lazily beneath Goldberg's chin. “I ain't merciful like Rollins. And I won't make it quick like Reigns. I'll make it ugly.”

“This is illegal.” Bill pointed out, his voice shaking.

“You've got to be shitting me.” Dean replied incredulously. “All of a sudden your dumb ass knows right from wrong? Don't make me fuckin’ laugh. I could slit your throat and there ain't a jury that would convict me, Bill.”

Seth saw a flurry of motion out of the corner of his eye and then you were clinging to Goldberg's arm, mumbling no no no. They hadn't even noticed the gun that Bill had, a concealed belt holster maybe? Rollins cursed his own inattention, his grip never wavering. Goldberg easily shook you off and jabbed the barrel into Dean's side, chuckling.

Ambrose grinned back in that way that made it look like he was baring his teeth, devoid of mirth with ice in his eyes. “Nice try, Bill. Better luck next time.”

Roman struck, his arm rocketing forward to slam the butt of his hand cannon down on Goldberg's wrist. Bill yelped, releasing his gun on reflex and Seth cheered inwardly when you caught it. That deadly click announced that Roman was losing his patience, the large man cordially asking, “Gorgeous, how’s your head?”

“Better than ever.” You grumbled, wiping away the trickle of blood from a small cut over your eyebrow. “So what now? The police, right?”

“Nah. This scumbag is special.” Dean mused. “Why the long face? Big’s gonna’ be thrilled to see ya’, Bill! Lighten up.”

“You're sure I can't change your minds?” Goldberg implored as Seth pulled out a handful of zipties. “You boys are wasting your talent working with that asshole. Just think of what you could do if you joined me instead. C'mon!” His eyes landed on you and Seth hated with a passion the smirk that crept across his face. “Imagine what you could get away with, what you could do to them-”

“You'd better shut your mouth before one of us gags you.” Roman’s tone was calm, a stark contrast to the subject matter of his words. “You have the right to remain silent. I suggest you take full advantage of that and shut the fuck up.”

Bill wisely clammed up and allowed the three men to secure him to a dining room chair, where he waited silently.

“Nash is on his way. He had a patrol a few miles south. No backup, my ass.” Ambrose grumbled after he got off the phone.

“Let me see your head, gorgeous.” Seth gave you as thorough of a checkup as he could, trying not to fixate on the swollen cut over your eyebrow. “How do you feel? Woozy? Halo in your vision? Any disturbances?” He asked worriedly, cupping your face so he could see if your pupils were equal and tracking motion properly.

He was distraught when your eyes filled with tears, but then you smiled up at him. “I'm okay! I promise.” You laughed, wiping at your eyes. “I mean, my head is sore, yeah. But I'm okay Seth.”

Rollins silently embraced you, carefully stroking the back of your head as you sniffled into his tactical vest and clung to him. “We told you we would keep you safe. I'm sorry we were a little late.”

“I tried really hard to keep him off-balance.”

“You did good, gorgeous.” Dean rasped, rumpling your hair. “Kept his ass yammerin’ until the cavalry arrived. We're a pretty small cavalry, a’ course. Kinda’ raggedy. But we do our best.” Dean nudged his nose into Seth's cheek. “We gotta’ talk about y’ somersault there, Rollins.”

“It was a combat roll.” Seth huffed, knocking his forehead back into Dean's.

“Great half-ass cartwheel.”

“I didn't see you doing any flips, Ambrose!” Dean flipped him off in reply and Seth couldn't help the hysterical cackle that exploded out of him. He heard you start to giggle into his chest and he held you a little tighter, unable to keep the smile off his face.

…

The latest holiday movie played on in the background and you dimly heard Roman making his way back upstairs, no doubt with fresh popcorn in hand. The three of you had settled in on your bed after Mr. Diesel and his associates had come to collect the docile Goldberg, the extremely tall man shaking your hand as though you were a new business partner.

“I'll be in touch,” he’d said with a sly wink, shooting a glare at the three men behind you. “And as for you boys, you have any idea how much paperwork I'm gonna’ have to fill out to take care of this mess?”

You nudged Seth's side and his arm moved to hug your shoulders. “You want to sit on my lap?” Seth offered and you quickly took him up on it, immensely enjoying the way he pulled you back into his chest. “No guns, right?” He murmured, his hands moving to your hips so he could tuck you tighter into his lap.

You shook your head with a laugh, making an embarrassing noise when he ground his hardening length up against you.

��Uh oh, sounds like Rollins is gettin’ handsy.” Dean teased, leaning over to peck you on the cheek. “What’s the matter gorgeous, he grindin’ his dick against you? He loves doin’ that shit.”

You couldn’t answer as Seth tugged your panties to the side, kisses falling at random on your neck. You could almost hear Dean smirking.

Roman sauntered back onto the bed and settled against the headboard, lazily extending one arm laden with your snack of choice. He wiggled it just out of reach and you crawled forward to grab it, whispering a thank-you. You hoped and prayed that your excitement hadn’t left any embarrassing slick marks on Rollins’ pants. You knew you were wet through your underwear already, feeling the heat on your inner thighs.

Seth flipped your skirt up over your hips as you hungrily tucked in to your snack, his hands rubbing gentle circles into your exposed skin.

Dean swore under his breath, nothing but a gritty, low, “fuck.” Roman glanced over at that, grinning when he saw your position and the way Seth’s hands were moving.

“Fucking ridiculous.” He laughed. “Not that I can blame you. We're all safe and sound. It's a relief. Feels almost normal again, right?”

You looked back at Seth, who actually whimpered at you in a ridiculous manner. “Please?” He asked softly. “You’re already so wet, and Dean and Roman are right here. All you have to do is sit down, I promise.” There was the ticking sound of a zipper pulling open. “Please, gorgeous, please please.”

Feeling like an entirely different person, bold and maybe (just maybe) a little needy, you handed off your snack to Ambrose. “Only if I get to finish my snack after I’ve gotten a treat.” You bargained, dragging a sharp inhale from Roman.

“Anything you want.” Seth agreed rapidly.

“Shit, I think we’d give you a ‘treat’ any old time.” Dean growled.

You settled back down on Seth’s lap, squeezing his freed cock teasingly between your thighs for a moment before you rose back up and let him have his way. Seth’s hands dug beneath your top and into your bra to toy with your breasts, making you tremble in his grip. “I am gonna’ fill you up and make you come on my dick.” He promised in your ear, his cock sliding over your pussy. “Up a little, and then relax.” He coached and you obeyed, the head of his dick breaching you slowly.

“God, gorgeous, you always take him so good. Just like me, just like Roman.” Dean murmured. “We oughta’ fuck him open while he’s tryin’ to fuck you. See how far his focus gets him before he starts beggin’.”

“Easy man, don’t wanna’ come before them.” Seth protested, his voice a little shaky. “That’s right gorgeous, you just lean into my hands. Lean into them, so I can fuck you.”

You had watched Dean and Roman finish Seth off more than once, watched them jerk him until he came with a gasping sigh of completion. The idea of him actually getting fucked by one of them was relatively untouched territory, though apparently not for them judging by how hard Seth was bucking up into you. You couldn't deny that the notion had merit.

“When we fuck each other, we fuckin’ spread each other open. Seth makes the best noises outta’ everyone, don’t you Seth?” Dean rasped, “Whimpers and whines, loves it. One time Roman and I pinned him to the wall and took turns railin’ him.”

That was an image for sure, your mind running wild. Your pussy clenched on Seth's cock and he gasped, his breath coming in sharp bursts. “No fair, you can't say shit like--hngh, they like it Ambrose you can't-” He choked.

“He likes being sloppy.” Roman confided. “Would you like that, Seth? You want to get fucked while you fuck them?”

Seth went dead still inside you. You could feel his thighs trembling and jerking with the effort of not moving and you rolled your hips, making Seth bury his face in your shoulder helplessly.

“You wanna’ get fucked, doncha’? Wanna' get bent over and filled up?” Dean crooned, a hand already fisted in Seth's hair. “Maybe twice, right? Maybe maybe?”

“You want Dean to fuck you while you fuck them? Or do you want to sit in my lap?” Roman purred. “Grind on my cock while you fuck yours into them? We're waiting.”

“D-Dean first then you Roman,” Seth said all in a rush, avoiding looking at your eyes like he was embarrassed. “Please, I--”

“Shh, we've got you.” Roman soothed, sitting up and moving to lift you bodily off of Seth's cock. You whined in complaint and Roman chuckled, rubbing his nose against your cheek. “So impatient. I have to prep him, gorgeous. Do me a favor and jerk him slow while I open him up, okay? I want to see how long he can go without coming.” He greedily fondled your breast through your shirt, like he couldn't help himself. You whimpered and rocked against the comforting bulk of his body and Dean chuckled.

“We're all so greedy for you, gorgeous.”

Seth groaned when you finally laid beside him on the bed, his head hanging while he stayed on his hands and knees. You skimmed a hand over his now-shirtless chest, watching in delighted surprise as he jolted and gritted his teeth after you circled his nipples. Your fingers moved lower, finding his cock and gripping it loosely. It was still dripping from your own slick and you crooned, “good boy,” in his ear, making him swear under his breath and rock his hips down into your hand.

Roman began the careful, gentle process of working Seth's body open, preparing him for the eventual intrusion with two lubricated fingers. Dean knelt in front of Seth, his jeans unzipped and his cock out. He stroked himself a few times and you were certain he was making a show of it, staying out of Seth's reach for a few precious minutes to keep him distracted from any initial pain. Seth wasted little time swallowing down the other man's length once Dean did move close enough, whining and grunting around it in response to either Roman or you, you weren't entirely certain. Rollins seemed torn between humping your hand or fucking back onto Roman's fingers, settling for a weird twitch of his hips every few seconds that seemed to satisfy him.

“How it usually works, gorgeous, is that I prep him for Dean, who in turn preps him for me.” Roman said conversationally to you while scissoring and crooking his fingers. Seth cried out, saliva trickling down the side of his jaw as Dean continued to thrust roughly into his mouth. “I'm a little thicker than Dean, so it's for the best that Ambrose goes first and warms him up.” Reigns brought his palm down lightly on the curve of Seth's rear, not really hard enough to be considered a swat. More of a caress. “Seth loves it when we go one right after the other. Loves feeling all used and fucked out.”

Rollins nodded rapidly, Dean helpfully holding his hair back out of the way.

“Not sure how it might change with you in the mix, but it's going to be interesting.” Roman mused, his eyes narrowing. “Rollins, you’d better not be about to come. Gorgeous, give the base of his cock a tight squeeze.” Seth made a despairing noise that sent shivers down your spine, the power you held over him suddenly obvious. “Hey, no complaining. This is your own fault for being so quick on the trigger.” Roman chided, his fingers wrapping around your own to firmly grip the base of Seth's cock. It twitched like it had a mind of its own, throbbing hot in your hand as Seth squirmed a little. “Sneaky brat. Stop whining and let them milk you like a good fuck toy.”

“Enough.” Dean gasped, pulling back out of Rollins’ mouth. “Wanna' fuck him now.”

“I'm ready, I promise, I promise.” Seth arched his back. “Fuck me Dean, c'mon, I want to fuck them-”

“Alright gorgeous, on your belly underneath him.” Roman got you into position, smirking at the noise Seth made and the way he rubbed his cock against the swell of your rear. “Ambrose, mount him once he's got his cock in them.”

Seth peppered the back of your neck with hungry kisses, one hand entwined with your own as he guided his cock to penetrate you from behind with a slow roll of his hips. You gasped and squirmed up, loving the new angle, then froze when Seth cried out, “F--uck's sake, A-Ambrose!” His breathing hitched and you heard a low groan from Dean.

“Christ Reigns, you always slick him up so nice. Slid right in.” Dean rasped. He leaned down to grab your hand, the one that Seth already had a death grip on. “How you doin’, Rollins? Gonna’ come? If you hold off, I'll make it worth your while.”

“Dean-” Seth half-sobbed, his hips working furiously to fuck into you. His hands groped at the bed beneath you, searching out your breasts and cupping them. “Dean, God, gorgeous you feel so good, so fucking good--”

You were breathless underneath the two men, feeling the pace Ambrose set through Seth's motions. Rollins brought his hips flush to your rear, seating himself as deeply as he could inside you. All you could do was try to arch up and fuck back at him, every inch of skin tingling with heat and arousal.

“Oh no, oh no--” Seth panted in your ear, digging beneath you again to rub his fingers over your clit. You cried out at the lightning bolt of sensation and Ambrose snarled.

“Holy fuck, easy Rollins. Loosen up.” He choked out. “Deep breaths, I don't wanna’ hurt you.”

Seth was clearly paying him no mind, his chin resting on your shoulder as he hammered down into you with sharp, precise strokes. He had gone nearly silent, his teeth digging fiercely into his lower lip.

“Seth.” Dean snapped, Rollins’ chin suddenly gone from your shoulder. “You want me to pull your hair, I'll pull your fuckin’ hair, but you need to relax around me otherwise this shit is gonna’ hurt you.” Ambrose warned. Seth whined pitifully and you caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. He looked dazed, his lips slightly parted and wet while Ambrose kept that grip on his hair. The angle his back was bent at couldn't have been comfortable but he didn't even seem to care, letting Dean push him into you.

“M’ sorry.” Seth apologized, licking his lips and then biting them nervously.

“Now fuck them like you mean it.” Dean ordered, releasing Seth's hair. Rollins propped himself up with his elbows on either side of your body, rapidly sliding his length in and out of you. You felt like you were melting, molten hot from proximity and activity. Your thighs were shaking with the strain of holding back from coming, your clit aching for more attention as you tried not to grind back against Seth. You didn't want this to end! It was just too good, filthy and sweet and full.

“Damn Rollins, you're almost as wet as they get.” Dean grunted. “Fuck toy likes gettin' railed. You love it when I get balls deep, don't you?”

Seth pushed his forehead in between your shoulder blades, twitching and moaning as he desperately kept moving. “Ambrose y' gonna' make me come if you keep talking-”

“I love it when you fuckin' squirm for me, you tighten up around me like you want me to fuckin' snap you in half.” Dean growled.

Your body went into spasm, the idea of Seth being fucked into submission apparently too much for you. Your mouth opened to scream but nothing came out, fingers clawing for purchase on the sheets beneath you.

“Oh God, oh God, they're coming, Dean they're coming, fuck--” Seth sighed, circling his hips. “Fuck me, they feel so good...” You sobbed out a breath and took his hand again, kissing his knuckles.

“Don't mind if I fuckin' do.” Dean muttered, snapping his hips forward to meet Seth's body. A few more strokes was all it took for Ambrose to come, the light-haired man planting a hand on the bed beside your head as he shuddered and gasped his way to his own completion. You watched the muscles in his arm flex and shake with the force of holding his weight and you couldn't help shivering again, all the while whispering thank you, thank you...

…

When Dean pulled out, Seth felt his cock twitch needily. He had to stay still, had to stay still. He'd been told not to come, so he had to stay still.

Roman settled back onto his knees, hissing and then smearing some of Dean's come down the back of Seth's thigh as it dripped out of him. “I'm fucking taking you now, Rollins. You're not allowed to come unless they do again, got it?”

Seth knew he must look delirious, his hair all over the place and his whole body flushed with heat. “Whatever you want.” He breathed, watching hungrily over his shoulder while Roman stroked himself a few times with the lubricant from the bottle on the nightstand.

“I know Ambrose got you plenty fucking wet for me.” Roman muttered, still helping himself to a second coating after he put on a condom. “You ready, Seth? Ready for this fucking cock?”

Seth loved the way Roman would get all heated and almost-angry, swears falling rapid as compliments. Seth knew from experience that the more he would surrender, the better it would be. “Please, Roman.” He whispered.

Seth loved the way you shivered beneath his body, obviously overstimulated but loving every second of it. You tugged him down to kiss you and he went happily, his tongue tangling with your own.

Seth loved the way Ambrose softened and fawned over him when he knew he was about to get fucked, the other man's hands stroking his hair and shoulders in a way that was startlingly tender for someone like Dean.

Rollins dissolved into helpless babbling with his hands fisted in the sheets on either side of your head as Roman slowly, slowly sank the length of his dick into him. Seth's forehead rested on your back, his fingers gripping at your sides as he tentatively eased back onto Roman's cock, taking him inch by inch. The growl Roman let out spiraled down into Seth's core, an unfiltered, guttural noise of pleasure so honest it made him want to come on the spot. Seth was hot, slick, a filthy mixture of come and lubricant allowing him to take Roman better than usual.

Dean wiggled you out from beneath Seth, kissing you fiercely and choking back a laugh when you moved against his body in a sensual manner. “You want a taste, gorgeous? Or do you want the whole experience?” Seth watched hazily as you leaned in and whispered something in his ear, Dean's eyes widening and then half-lidding. “That ain't a bad idea, gorgeous.” He murmured, a lazy grin turning up the corner of his mouth. “Pass me a condom and prepare to have y’ dreams come true.”

“You're fucking them Ambrose?” Roman asked, releasing his hold on Seth's hips to reach beneath him and loosely grip the shaft of Seth's cock.

Rollins didn't mean to come, it just sort of happened, the younger man coating Roman's fingers with a muffled gasp. Seth's breathing rasped in his throat as he came down from the high, dimly aware that Roman was not slowing down in the slightest.

“I told you to wait.” Roman murmured. “You did good though, I guess I shouldn't have touched your cock. Now this means I'll have to fuck a second one out of you.” He slid his palms down over the front of Seth's thighs, digging his fingers in for a better grip and full on rutting his cock into Seth.

Rollins sobbed out, pressing his forehead to the bed. It was so good it was overwhelming, his body in spasm from coming and Roman slip-dragging over that spot inside that made him light up. His cock rubbed against the sheets, half-hard just from the pressure alone.

He heard you moan and he found the strength to raise his head, watching hungrily. Dean and you were both on your knees, your back to his chest while he slowly fucked up into you from behind. Roman chuckled overhead and the next thing Seth knew he was being repositioned, Roman tugging him carefully upright into a mirror of the other two.

Roman’s hand slipped beneath Seth's jaw, holding the younger man's face steady while he tweaked and toyed with his nipples. “You like this, Rollins? I can fuck you just like them.” He hissed, grinning when Dean gripped you tightly and sidled even closer. “You two could even make out while Dean and I fuck you. What do you say, Seth? Give us a show.”

Seth buried his face in Roman's neck to hide his embarrassment, covering the skin there with kisses. It was uncharted territory for you to be around when they were actually fucking one another, normally they just jerked each other off because it was less of a hassle. But with you here, getting fucked while he was getting fucked too...

Seth chanced another look at you and saw Dean fondling your breasts and pressing his hand to your stomach to keep you steady, whispering in your ear. Whatever he was saying was making you writhe on his dick, your eyes fixed on Seth the entire time. Dean managed to move even closer, directly opposite from Seth and Roman with nothing but a few inches separating you and Rollins.

Roman grinned against Seth's shoulder, reaching out to give one of your nipples a teasing flick. Dean did the same to Seth, laughing at Rollins’ pitiful noise in reply. “Fuck, they tightened up when you made that sound. Roman, I think they like watchin’ him gettin’ railed.” Ambrose smirked. “Isn't that right, gorgeous? You like watchin’ Seth gettin’ worked over? I know you like it when we suck or jerk each other off, so I'm sure this is fuckin’ divine for you.”

You caught one of Seth’s hands, bringing it to your mouth and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Thank you.” You said softly.

Rollins huffed out a breath and kissed you as hard as he could, carding his fingers through your hair. “Thank you.” He breathed.

Dean grabbed a handful of Roman's hair, grinning when the larger man snapped his teeth at him. “So mouthy on top!” He teased, letting the black locks slide through his fingers. Roman wrapped his hand around Seth's throat and threw his arm over the other man's chest, effectively pinning Seth's body to his own. “I am just about ready to come.” Roman was grunting with every thrust, a sure sign of his impending orgasm. “So you just stay put like a good little fuck toy and let me fill you up, alright?”

Seth nodded to the best of his ability, his breath barely wheezing past Roman's hand. “God, please-” He gasped, squirming as much as he could.

“Shh, don't try to talk. Just keep those fucking legs spread and take my cock as deep as you can.” Roman murmured against his ear. His hand moved to Seth's cock again, stroking him in time with his thrusts. “Look at how they watch you.” He whispered.

Seth glanced up again, meeting your gaze. You were worrying your lip with your teeth, watching Seth's face while Dean pounded into you from behind.

“They fucking like this, Seth. Bet they'd love to watch you fuck Dean and I.” Roman crooned, gripping Seth's hips and thrusting up into him so hard Seth's mouth popped open. “I know you love it when I beg for you, when Ambrose scratches your back because he can't handle how intense you are.” Roman slammed in and out wordlessly for a few seconds, then grappled with the front of Seth's thighs and sheathed himself as deeply as he could.

Across from him, Ambrose did the same to you, his teeth digging into your neck as you cried out. Roman’s cock twitched inside of Rollins and Seth couldn't help the sounds that came out of him as he came again, the sensation of orgasm almost painful. He groaned and shuddered while Roman continued to slowly rut into him, no doubt enjoying the flex of Seth's violently-shaking inner walls even after he came.

Your voice cracked with a soft, “I'm coming-”, your back arching and Dean growling out some nonsense words before he came.

Seth hungrily reached for you and you moved into his grasp, letting him run his fingers soothingly through your hair as you came down from your high. Dean and Roman, much to Seth's chagrin, actually high-fived each other like they had just won a football game. You sputtered and hiccuped with laughter, your breath still uneven from coming and Seth groaned, rolling his eyes before kissing your forehead. “Nothing quite like working with professionals.” He griped.

“You love us, Rollins. Don't you forget it!” Roman grinned. “Shower? Dean kinda' made a mess.”

“You're telling me.” Seth couldn't help his snicker when Dean pouted at him. “Chill out, Ambrose. I'll get you back.”

“Can I watch?” You asked, an excited smile on your face.

Dean burst out laughing, giving you a gentle swat on the rear. “Good to know your kinks ain't just gunplay. Guess you're a voyeur too. I can live with that.”

“What do you mean, gunplay?! I'm not-”

“Don't even try to deny it gorgeous, you loved that shit! Good thing Reigns didn't uh, go off early, right?”

Roman groaned in exasperation, knuckling Ambrose upside the head. “You're impossible.”

“You know you love me!” Dean protested.

“I really do.” You said softly, startling Rollins. “All of you. Thank you for being with me.”

“Hey,” Seth replied when he trusted his voice, “I mean, what's the holidays without family, right?”

“C'mon, let's hurry up and get showered! We still have to open presents!”

“Presents?!”

[concussed-to-pieces]

It’s Going To Take A Lot; Bonus

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Diesel [Kevin Nash]/OFC

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy and merry Christmas, ya' filthy animals! A little bonus content in the spirit of the season. Tagging @toxiicpop, @oraclegazes and @hardcorewwetrash as ever!

Part One

Epilogue

December 24th, 1990

He stood on the front steps, his hands tucked tightly into his pockets. He could hear the faint sound of a piano being played, as well as some singing and laughter. A botched Christmas carol maybe, but no one seemed to mind that it had been botched. He swallowed hard, nervously taking off his hat and smoothing out his hair for what felt like the hundredth time since he’d arrived.

He rested his forehead against the front door for a minute, trying to muster up the courage to ring the doorbell. Finally, squaring his shoulders and gritting his teeth, he talked himself into pressing it.

The piano music ended abruptly and he heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door. He kept his shoulders squared, kept his jaw tight. Wish my knees would stop shaking. Does my hair still look okay? Hat might have--

She opened the door and it was like everything else faded out. All he heard was the saxophone solo from that George Michael song. The way she was lit from the back made her blonde hair look like a halo, and really? A halo? He scolded himself. But then again, that was par for the course around her. “Kevin!” He somehow heard her voice over his mental saxophone. She sounded thrilled. “You made it!”

“I promised, didn’t I?” He asked gruffly. “Thanks a million for this.” He tapped at the scarf around his neck, offering her a lazy smile. “Thing was a lifesaver on the last drive.” Kimberly flushed bright red and Diesel couldn’t help cupping her chin and bringing her in for a kiss. “Missed you.” He breathed when they parted.

“I missed you, too.” She nuzzled her nose against his jacket, her hands tucked into the back pockets of his jeans. “I’m so glad you came, Kevin.”

Diesel buried his face in her hair. “Glad I got here in time.”

“You’re good at that.”

“I’m assuming you’re Kevin?” Diesel jumped at the new voice, pulling away from his…well, his Kimberly. A short, rounder woman with curly blonde hair was regarding him with the utmost suspicion from behind Kimberly.

“Yes, uh. Yes, that’s me. You must be Kimberly’s sister.” Diesel extended his hand, more than a little gratified by the fact that Kimberly hadn’t really released him. He was confused when the woman in front of him tittered to herself.

“You didn’t tell me he was a charmer! I’m Kim-Kim’s mom, Kevin. Call me Anne.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, ma’am.” Diesel managed to say, feeling like an idiot. She told you that her siblings were younger than her, stupid!

“Likewise! I’ve heard great things.” Anne smiled like Kimberly, Diesel noticed absently, or more accurately Kimberly smiled like Anne.

“All probably false, but I appreciate you softening the blow.” Diesel teased Kimberly.

“Oh my God Kim-ber-ly, you didn’t tell us he was a Clydesdale.” The owner of the new voice had just emerged from the kitchen, and yeah, that would be the younger sister. Complete with off-the-shoulder sweater and makeup applied in experimental fervor.

“Amy, don’t be rude!” Anne scolded while Diesel tried his hardest to muffle his laughter with his arm. A Clydesdale. That was a new one on him, he’d have to tell Razor.

“No harm done, ma’am, I’m used to hearing much worse.” He cocked an eyebrow in the direction of Amy, taking in how her eyes were narrowed at him. “I get it.” He said simply, and her shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Whatever questions you have, I’ll try my best to answer them.”

“Oh honey, please stop glaring. Your face will get stuck like that.” Anne chided Amy like she hadn’t been giving Diesel the same look not five minutes prior.

A lanky, brown-haired man with thick glasses came wandering in from what Diesel assumed was the living room, carrying a cup full of pretzels. He started visibly at the sight of the…Clydesdale in the entryway, nearly dropping his pretzels. “Oh! Hello, hello! You must be Kevin.” He fumbled the cup for a second until Kimberly finally rescued him, scooping the plastic out of his hand so he could properly greet Diesel with a firm handshake. “I’m Daniel, the Dadinator around these parts.”

“It’s great to meet you, sir.” Diesel didn’t mean to sound so stiff, he was pretty sure that Anne was the one who kept the gate in this household. He just wanted to make a decent first impression (for once in my life, please).

Daniel immediately waved off the formality, smiling down at his daughter still cozied into Diesel’s side. “Our little Kimbles seems to have taken quite the shine to you, Kevin! Her and Anne have been hard at work most of today making the traditional Christmas fare. You just missed the before-dinner carols!”

“I’m pretty sure my singing could destroy the most ravenous of appetites.” Diesel chuckled, shaking his head. “Where should I hang my coat?”

“Ah yes, the infamous coat!” Daniel winked at his oldest daughter, who rolled her eyes at him. Diesel, on the other hand, felt his face heat. His jacket would be a topic of conversation now or later, he was sure of it. “There’s hooks by the door, Kevin. Hats off indoors, Anne is very firm on that.”

“Oh, of course.” Diesel quickly yanked his trucker cap off.

“Wait!” A young boy with a mop of brown curls came skidding out of the living room, his socks squeaking on the hardwood floor. There was a tense moment where Diesel waited for the crisis to strike, but then the boy managed to catch himself before he fell. “Wait, I want to see the truck! Hat back on! Coat back on!” He demanded, making Diesel snort in disbelief.

“Jeff! Manners!” Daniel scolded, giving Diesel an apologetic look. “Sorry, he's kind of a mile a minute kid.”

“He's excited. I get it.” Diesel put his hat back on while Jeff hopped anxiously from foot to foot. “Ask your parents first, okay?” The little boy grinned excitedly, already mid-turn to beg his father to let him go see the huge rig parked out front.

…

After dinner and the cleanup, Jeff (sporting a crisp new Wolf Packing ballcap) headed up to bed without being asked. He was of the impression that the sooner he went to bed, the sooner Santa would come and the sooner he could open presents.

Daniel passed out glasses of egg nog, dosed with healthy splashes of cognac and rum. Except for Amy's, to the obvious disappointment of the self-proclaimed almost seventeen-year-old. While Anne was distracted at the counter Diesel watched Kimberly let her little sister have a sip, barely keeping himself from laughing aloud when Amy made a disgusted face.

“Alright Kevin, we want the whole sordid tale from you.” Anne said as her cherry winks made their rounds.

Diesel almost choked on his cookie. “'Scuse me?”

“They want you to tell the, uh...” Kimberly trailed off, going an attractive shade of pink.

“The epic story! Give us the rescue from your point of view.” Daniel urged, his glasses a little crooked. “It's not every day we have a real live knight at the table, after all!”

Oh God, they want a retell. Diesel took a healthy swig of the egg nog to fortify his resolve. Telling stories with Razor in a filthy bar somewhere was one thing. This was something entirely different.

“So uh, once upon a time, I stopped at a little dive that’s out of business now.” Diesel glanced at Kimberly. “Saw this lovely lady standing outside and I didn’t think much of it, figured she was having a smoke. I head inside to chat up the clerk, get all the gossip.” Diesel cleared his throat. “I’d taken another woman from this particular stop previously. But that had been a while back, folks change. I didn’t think I’d hear a sales pitch again.”

“Sales pitch?” Anne’s voice trembled a little.

“I broke his nose. Should have broke his whole face.” Diesel muttered, feeling Kimberly’s fingers lace through his own. “I saw her move like she was going to head to the trucks that had just come in, I didn’t want to make a scene. Wrapped my arm around her, probably scared the daylights out of her because I’m…well, I’m a big guy and I know it must have looked bad. I’d just broken a guy’s nose!”

“We’ve dealt with him in court. He deserved whatever you did to him and more.” Daniel grumbled, taking another sip of his egg nog.

“So what then?” Amy asked, her eyes huge. Diesel had to bite back a smile.

“Brought her to another stop to shower and eat, took a nap, drove to the last stop and got into a fistfight.” Diesel shrugged. “Guy was claiming ownership. Sometimes the uh, young guys get possessive. Kimberly is nobody’s property. So I straightened him out.” He licked the corner of his mouth absently, where his lip had been split during the fight. “We had a nutritious breakfast of…hell, I think it was Spam?”

“Spam, chips and Coke.” Kimberly supplied helpfully.

“Yeah. Not breakfast food. Took another sleep, drove through the night and arrived safe and sound on your doorstep.” Diesel knew he was paraphrasing a bit, but he wasn’t exactly about to tell her parents that he’d spent a good chunk of the ‘sleep’ time with his mouth buried between the legs of their eldest daughter. Hell, he and Kimberly hadn’t even been dating, he just knew that she needed it to be safe going forward. Oh, I was all noble intentions, he thought wryly.

“Why didn’t you come in?” Anne asked, “At least let us thank you!”

“You have to understand my side of this, ma’am.” He felt so dumb saying it now. “I…I didn’t want her feeling like she owed me. Didn’t want to be like the folks she’d interacted with before. I left before I could think better of leaving.” He straightened his shoulders. “And then I was a wreck for the better part of a year.”

He heard Amy sigh dreamily and he wanted to laugh because of course, lovesick brooding would be something to catch the teenager’s attention. It definitely sounded much more glamorous than, ‘I attempted to start my promising career as an alcoholic’.

“But you guys know how that story goes.” Diesel said quietly, his fingers twined with Kimberly’s under the table. “This one braved a cold winter’s night, gave me some grand speech about making her own choices.” He teased, boldly nuzzling her cheek with his nose. “I’ll be forever grateful.”

“It was worth it to find you again.” Kimberly murmured, smiling up at him and oh Jesus, her parents were right there, a minor was in the room--

Diesel had to tear his eyes away from her before he did something wildly inappropriate, clearing his throat again to buy himself some time. Because now came the part that he had been dreading all night. “Daniel, Anne…I understand if you two would rather that I just hop into my rig and never come back. A lot of terrible things happened that never needed to all because of guys like me, so I honestly underst-” Anne rose to her full height, which was…not very tall, but the look on her face gave Diesel pause.

“You’re part of this family. You would be whether you got together with Kimberly or not.” Anne’s voice was soft steel. Diesel could see where Kimberly got her resolve. “You brought our daughter back safely. The police had essentially given up. All they had to go on was some CCTV footage from the last gas station she had been in, and obviously that was many, many miles from that…terrible place.” Her lower lip quivered. “We didn’t want to lose hope, but when you have police officers telling you that your case is a lost cause, that ‘young women disappear all the time due to trafficking’, it…it can be hard to stay positive.”

Daniel’s hand rested on the small of his wife’s back. “Waking up on Christmas morning with Kimbles on the doorstep was…I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”

“Yeah, and she was wearing your jacket!” Amy recalled brightly. “A token, like old knights.”

Diesel blinked, a little overwhelmed. Regardless of what good he’d done, he had been bracing himself for when they would tell him to fuck right off. He was a trucker. He hated to think of it like that, with the unwarranted poison suburbanites tended towards, but he was of the same profession as most of her abusers.

Anne maneuvered around the table and pulled him into a hug that was the most maternal thing he’d ever experienced. “You’re not like them, Kevin. You listened to our baby, kept her safe and brought her home.” She patted his hair and yeah, yep, there was the lump in his throat. He was a grown man. “We’re so thankful you looked out for her.”

“She’s a human being.” Diesel said thickly. “I did what anyone else with a shred of decency would have done.”

“Mom, I think you’re smushing him.” Kimberly, obviously sensing his distress, swooped in to save the day. Anne immediately apologized, settling back down beside Daniel and dabbing at her eyes with a paper napkin.

Diesel huffed out a breath, giving Kimberly’s hand a grateful squeeze. “I’d like to formally ask permission to date your daughter.” He began cautiously. Across the table, Amy looked like she was about to dissolve into another sigh at the trepidation in his voice. “I would be gone for a week or so at a time. Maybe longer hauls if the pay is good. I-I have my own apartment, I promise I’m not trying to skim off of you for a place to crash between trips. I also know Kimberly still has college to get done and I’m not trying to get in the way of that.” Diesel felt out of breath, terrified. “I…care about Kimberly a hell of a lot and I-”

“Honey please, you’re going to pass out if you don’t take a second.” Anne looked far too amused. “How long have you been rehearsing this pitch?”

“Most of the ride here.” Diesel admitted, staring down at his forgotten glass of egg nog. “Over and over until it was right, ma’am.”

“Kimbles is a big girl, Kev. She can make her own choices.” Daniel said gently.

“I didn’t want either of you thinking that I was going behind your backs. Figured asking permission formally was the way to go.” Hope flared bright in Diesel’s chest. “I uh…Kimberly?” He floundered for a second, trying to wrap his head around the fact that this good thing wasn’t being ripped out from beneath him.

“Yes, Kevin?” Kimberly rested her head on his shoulder, giving him a smug look. And here he was, Big Daddy Cool, Diesel Power, Kevin Goddamn Nash reduced to opening and closing his mouth while all his carefully-planned words evacuated his brain.

“I…” Diesel swallowed hard. Got to his feet, pulled her up with him. Cupped her face so it was just them, no audience. “I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone in my life. I want to give this a serious try, Kimberly.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “You interested in giving me a go? It’s not going to be easy, we both know that. It’s going to take a lot. Communication and patience and…shit, say something, please interrupt me, I’m dying of nerves here.” He begged.

Kimberly raised an eyebrow, looking bemused. “I didn’t really think that you had to ask.” She laughed, rubbing her forehead against his own. “Anybody who tries to drag me away from you is going to have a rough time. Two or a hundred men, hell, more than a hundred, it doesn’t matter. Okay?”

“Okay.” Diesel knew he was smiling like an idiot, but he hardly cared at the moment.

“Kiss already!” Amy snapped, folding her arms across her chest and pouting when her mother scolded her. Diesel chuckled, his heart still hammering wildly against his ribs.

“I’d hate to disappoint.” Kimberly gave him a look of feigned shyness from beneath her lashes and oh, that was a good look if Diesel’s body had anything to say about it.

He exhaled hard, trying to ground himself. “’Course.” He gave her a quick peck on the mouth, losing his fight with laughter at her incredulous expression. “Only teasing, sweetheart, only teasing.” Diesel finally relented when she wouldn’t stop giving him that look. She caught the front of his sweatshirt and dragged him down for a real kiss, one that they probably shouldn’t be having in front of her parents and younger sister. Diesel’s common sense had taken a back seat to his relief however, and he kissed back just as fiercely.

“So rad.” Amy murmured enviously. “Just like the books.”

“What books?” Daniel sputtered and Kimberly started giggling into Diesel’s mouth, effectively ending their kiss. “If I find out you’ve been reading those trashy novels again-”

“They’re romantic!” Amy protested.

“Romantic trash.” Daniel huffed.

“Hey, it’s better that she knows what she wants, right?” Kimberly reasoned, unable to keep from laughing at the expression on her father’s face.

Anne nudged her husband pointedly, a little giggly herself. “Daniel, let the girl have fun. At least she’s reading, right?”

…

“May I walk you to your car?” Kimberly teased while Diesel stood awkwardly on the front steps.

“Didn’t want to ask.” He mumbled, jumping a little when she kissed him on the cheek.

“Thanks for letting Jeff poke around in the cab. I know it meant a lot to him.” She said, looping her arm through the crook of his elbow and laying her head against his shoulder. She couldn’t understand why he had been so nervous inside, but whatever the reason it had been more than worth it to watch him light up after she kissed him.

“I kinda’…promised to take him for a spin tomorrow. As long as the weather holds.” Diesel winced when she looked up at him. “He’s a good kid.”

“One of the best I know.” Kimberly smiled. “How are you doing? I’m sure tonight was…well, a lot. Just making sure you’re okay.”

Diesel paused midway through opening the door of the cab. “It was a lot, but I’ve got a lot to get used to.” He offered her that lazy smile. “Your folks didn’t need to be that nice to me. I can handle some punishment, sweetheart.”

“Would you believe that’s what they’re like normally?” Kimberly asked dryly. “It’s pretty rad.”

“Damn.” Diesel seemed at a loss, so Kimberly slipped past him to climb up into the cab.

“C’mon, the sooner we go to sleep the sooner we can open presents!” She urged.

Diesel shuddered all over, his eyes narrowing. “I dunno’ about that. Pretty sure I’ve got something to unwrap before bedtime.” He replied playfully, following her up into the cab and pulling the curtains across the windshield after he shut the door behind him. “Shit, I should have started it before we came out. My bad, Kimberly.”

“Looks like we’ll have to cuddle for warmth.” Kimberly laughed when he groaned loudly. “Naked, skin to skin so that the heat can distribute properly. You know.”

“It sounds more like you’ve been reading your little sister’s trashy books.” Diesel pointed out.

“Who did you think got her into them?” Kimberly asked airily, unzipping her coat. Diesel shook his head, silently watching her every move with a heat that raced down Kimberly’s spine. Kimberly shed her jacket and immediately regretted it, the truck was not warm in the slightest. She crossed her arms over her chest, shivering a little.

Diesel surged against her, pinning her to the passenger seat with his hands on her shoulders and his mouth on her own. “I’ll warm you up. This…oh my God, Kimberly, fuck.” He growled out the swear, shaking fingers groping her through her turtleneck.

Kimberly couldn’t help her needy whimper, draping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. “Missed you, missed you so much.”

“You just saw me the other-“ He paused at her look. “Okay yeah, who am I fooling here? I didn’t see you for almost a year and it was awful. I’m not letting you go again.” Diesel promised, yanking off his hat and tossing it over his shoulder somewhere. “Pants off, I need…c’mon, lift your hips.”

Kimberly eagerly obliged, laughing when he fumbled with the button on her jeans. “Through the loop, you know how to do this.”

“Don’t you sass me, sweetheart.” Diesel grunted, “Nothing funny about these nerves. Holy shit. We’re dating.” He shook his head, sliding her pants down her legs and jumping a little when she yelped. “What, too much?”

“Seat is…very cold.” Kimberly squeaked.

“I know.” Diesel teased his thumb over one of her nipples through her turtleneck and she arched up into his touch helplessly. He knelt between her legs and the cold faded to a back corner of Kimberly’s mind, her attention absorbed by this huge man who should have been terrifying. “Still alright?” Diesel asked, resting his temple on her thigh while he looked up at her. She nodded and his eyes softened. “Good.”

“Good.” Kimberly echoed, feeling ludicrous for being nervous. She cupped his jaw and Diesel closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “Be gentle.”

“Absolutely.” Diesel slipped her panties off and nudged her thighs apart again, then moved her hand to the back of his head. “You know what to do, sweetheart.” He murmured, mouthing the words on her thigh. “You’re in charge here.”

He pressed a kiss to her stomach and Kimberly ran her fingers through his hair, forgetting about her nerves as Diesel watched her slick collect for a second or two.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He muttered finally, sounding dazed. He spread her open with his fingers, the look of greed on his face making Kimberly’s hips twitch up. “Shouldn’t make you wait. Shouldn’t do it.” Diesel continued, walking his fingers up her torso to tweak her nipple through her shirt again.

“Oh! Please, Kevin!” Kimberly begged, making him rumble in his chest. “Please, please please I was so good, please-”

“That kiss in front of your parents is what you define as good?” Diesel asked incredulously. “I could have ripped my Levis with my cock, you tease.”

“P-Please, please I’ve been wet all night, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, need you so much--” Kimberly kept begging, desperate at this point. And he could tell, of course he could tell, her panties had been soaked through!

She felt his jaw tense when she tugged on his hair, and he rewarded her finally with a stroke of his tongue on her clit. “You are so fucking wet, oh my God.” Diesel moaned out, the noise low and ragged. “Sweetheart, Kimberly, oh my God, you’re so beautiful.” His facial hair tickled her thigh, rubbing a little harder when he resumed his previous activity. “I’m gonna’ take good care of you.”

Kimberly sighed, rolling her hips against his mouth. “Yes.” Their time together the other night hadn’t been nearly enough to make up for their long period of separation. She reached out to him and he responded with gentle noises of reassurance kissed into the skin of her thighs, yes I’m here, yes I’m real.

The Kevin who haunted her dreams, slipped into her bedroom and brought her to the brink of completion didn’t hold a candle to the Diesel of reality. His teeth, his tongue, his fingers, all working in unison to coax an orgasm from her quivering form. She was hot all over her body, aching sweetly with the work of wanting him.

“Give it to me, sweetheart.” Diesel growled. “I want it and you will give it to me, come on my face, come on my fucking face-”

Kimberly cried out, her fingers digging into his scalp as the tension in her stomach broke. Diesel hungrily lapped up her slick, his eyes locked with hers while she came. “Kevin--” She panted when she could speak again. “Bunk?”

“Yeah?” Diesel asked, sliding his index finger across his chin and making a lazy show out of licking it clean. Oh, that was nice. Kimberly felt her face flush. “I was having a pretty good time here, but I suppose…” He got to his feet, and then pulled her upright. “How’s your legs?”

“How do you think?!” Kimberly sputtered, clinging tightly to his shirt so she didn’t collapse. Stupid, stupid legs!

Diesel grinned, obviously pleased with himself. “So once we move to the bunk…” He drawled, tugging the partition aside. “How do you want round two to go?”

“I’m riding you.” Kimberly said quickly, before she could lose her nerve.

Diesel made a sound like he’d been punched in the stomach, kissing her hard. “Shit Kimberly, I could get used to this.” He groaned when he pulled back, running a hand through his hair.

Kimberly sat down on the bunk and crossed her legs, giggling at his expression when she made a ‘come-hither’ gesture with her finger. “Too much?”

“Never.” He stripped his shirt off and climbed over her until she laid down, massive body on full and obvious display. “Undo my jeans? Please.” He asked, shivering like he couldn't help it when she dragged her fingers over the dark trail of hair on his stomach. “God, God, Kimberly.”

Kimberly boldly slid her fingers down into his boxers, loving the heft of his cock in her hand. Diesel's head lolled forward when she stroked him, his hips rocking down into her hand. She rubbed her thumb over the head of his cock and Diesel swore, his hands clenching restlessly into the blankets.

“God don’t tease, with your tits all snug in that shirt, fuck don’t tease me.” He snarled. Kimberly undid his jeans and pushed them down his hips, making him grit out another swear.

“You like my breasts in this shirt?” Kimberly asked, loving the sensation of having him at her mercy. “Nice tight little turtleneck. Bra is uncomfortable though.”

“Get rid of it.” Diesel said curtly. “Hop up onto me and I’ll unhook it for you.” He patted his hip in the least subtle manner possible, offering her that lazy grin. “I live to serve.”

“You're impossible.” Kimberly stuck her tongue out and Diesel rolled onto his back, shifting his weight until she could straddle him properly. He was still snickering to himself and so Kimberly sank down onto his cock without any warning. That got his attention and shut him up all in one fell swoop. “Well?” She sighed after a minute of just enjoying the feeling of his cock in her. “My bra?”

Diesel's fingers raked firmly over the skin of her back, making her arch against him. “Fuck, yes.” Diesel grunted, fumbling to undo the hooks on her bra. “That's right, fuck down onto me, ride me into a fucking lather sweetheart.”

Kimberly caught a handful of his hair and tugged his head up a little so he could watch the way his cock stretched her deliciously. “See what you do to me, Diesel?” She crooned, not really sure where this behavior was coming from but more than satisfied with the results.

Diesel's eyes widened and the large man's jaw tensed yet again. “God, Kimberly...do you have any fucking idea-” He shook his head and grasped her hips. “All those nights I spent alone, drinking or fucking my fist while thinking about having my mouth and hands all over you, thinking about burying myself in this sweet little pussy--fuck, having you here, and you're real and we're...I mean, you're the best gift I've ever been given.” He admitted fiercely, getting her to squirm as he pinned her to his hips and bucked up.

“You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.” Kimberly shifted her pelvis in his grip, arching just so against the deep thrusts of his hips. “You saved me, Kevin.” She slid her hands up to her breasts, teasing herself through her shirt.

Diesel rumbled in his chest, cupping the back of her neck and tugging her down to touch their foreheads together. The intense look in his eyes took her breath away. “You saved me, don't get it twisted sweetheart.” He gritted out, carding his other hand through her hair. “Beautiful, precious fucking...beautiful woman. Best thing in my life. Don't know what I did, but I'll be damned if I ever let you go again.”

“Kevin I'm so close-” Kimberly begged. “Come with me, please please-” Her eyes kept rolling back but Diesel urged her to maintain eye contact, keeping their foreheads together. Her blonde hair curled around his face, muting the outside world to nothing but his eyes, his mouth, that lazy smile firmly in place as she rode him hard.

“Come for me, sweetheart.” He murmured tenderly, cupping her jaw and kissing her. “You come first, Kimberly, come for Diesel like a good girl.”

Something about that phrase struck a chord in the young woman and she tensed down on his cock. Her hands clutched vaguely at his shoulders as everything faded out and she broke apart with a hungry cry muffled by his mouth. Diesel moaned along with her as he pumped his cock in and out one last time before he came as well, and he wound his arms around her tightly.

“Stay with me.” He breathed in her ear.

“L-Like I can even move--” Kimberly gasped.

“Not just now.” Diesel's voice was so quiet. “Once you're done with...y'know, the important stuff, college. Stuff. If you're still interested in me. Please...stay with me.”

“Kevin...” Kimberly barely managed to sit up, her stomach still quivering. “Nothing could separate us after all of this, as far as I'm concerned.” She panted, trying to get her hair back under control.

“You really mean that?” Diesel asked tentatively, his fingers stroking through her hair and soothing her back down against his chest.

“Absolutely.” Kimberly answered firmly, pressing a trail of exhausted kisses over his pectoral. Diesel fell silent, reaching a hand out to hit play on his boombox and then pulling the blanket up over the both of them. Kimberly nuzzled into his chest, thoroughly warm and more than a little tired out.

“If I had another chance tonight...” The tape carried on softly, and Kimberly snickered into Diesel's chest.

“What?” Diesel mumbled.

“This song, you lovesick nerd.” She yawned widely. “Figured you would have gone with the other tape, the Just Tell Me You Love Me tape.”

“Wasn't feeling the England Dan last night.” Diesel held her a little tighter. “Thank you.”

“I'm pretty sure that's still supposed to be my line. Until I throw down with some big scary guy in a Mack truck on your behalf, of course.”

“Seriously, Kimberly.” Diesel cupped her chin again so he could see her eyes. “Thank you. You're the best present a guy could ask for.” Kimberly flushed at the praise and he smiled slowly, nudging her nose with his own. “C'mon, the sooner you go to sleep, sooner you get to open your presents.”

“Mm, pretty sure Christmas came early-”

“I held off as long as I could!”

“That's not actually what...oh my God, Kevin, you're ridiculous.”

[toxiicpop]

Y'ALL I'M FUCKEN DEAD

MERRY FUCKEN CHRISMUTS TO US

Bookish; Part Two

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Dean Ambrose/Roman Reigns/Seth Rollins/Female Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Word Count: …I am so sorry. Over 20k.

AN: THIRSTY/HOLIDAY CREW HOOOO! Welcome aboard a most festive holiday spectacular, my entry into the 25 Days Of Chrismuts! This is even more like a cheesy romance novel than the previous installment of Bookish! We’ve got plot-convenient amnesia, we’ve got protective security, we’ve got secrets, violence and daring rescues…everything you and I need to have a great holiday season! Tagging @25daysofchrismuts, @oraclegazes @hardcorewwetrash annnnnnnd @toxiicpop! Enjoy!

Keep reading