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concussed-to-pieces · 6 years

Text

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?!”

#wwe 25 days of chrismuts #25 days of chrismuts #chrismuts 2k18 #on the...twenty second dayyyyyy #dean ambrose #roman reigns #seth rollins #dean ambrose/roman reigns/seth rollins/reader #this is so long #this is so self indulgent #merry holidays #happy shitscram #You beautiful people you #thirst party saturday

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