#afterwards he was too focused on the fact that he forgot to reign in his ghost strength and so accidentally killed the kidnapper

[petite-phthora]

So about that dinner…

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 2]

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Part 1

Ao3

---

Danny lets out a long groan as he enters his apartment.

He’s dead tired— hehe, ‘dead’ tired— due to an exhausting schoolday and having been unable to fall back asleep last night after what happened.

So sure, he might have started having a panic attack when he got back to his apartment when what he had just done had finally fully sunken in.

And he might have spiraled even more, even going as far as to try and trap himself in a Fenton thermos, thinking he was back on the path to becoming Dan.

Luckily for him, a green sticky note, left by his favorite unnecessarily cryptic mentor, appeared.

It let him know that he is no more on the path to becoming Dan than prior to the incident and that the actions he had taken that night, while vexatious, were necessary for the betterment of the timeline.

Whatever that means.

By the time he had come to terms with his actions enough to stop spiraling and remember that he has school soon. He checked the time, noticing that he only had a few minutes left until his next class started.

Which meant he had to sprint to his classes and start the day off already tired and emotionally drained. He hadn’t even been able to at least get a coffee beforehand. And so he spent the rest of the day fighting to stay awake during his lessons, sporting eye bags big enough to carry the weight of his sins.

Danny glances at the space-themed clock on the wall that Jazz had gotten him as a housewarming gift. 6 pm. He should probably get started on dinner.

Deciding to go with something simple, as he simply does not have the energy for anything fancy right now, Danny opens the cupboard and grabs the first thing he sees: a box of mac n cheese. Danny rubs his eyes and squints at the box, trying to read the instructions when he gets interrupted by a knock.

…

On his window.

…

Danny turns around to see Red Hood at his window, outside of his 3rd-floor apartment. He pauses before shrugging it off. Stranger things have happened. He sets the box down and makes his way over to the window. He opens the window once he reaches it, only to come face to face with a bouquet of sweet peas, the colors ranging from white and pink to lavender.

Oh, those are his favorite.

He gingerly takes the flowers before looking over the top of the bouquet at the person who handed them to him. Ah, yes. The crime lord. Who had seen him commit murder.

Danny stares at him, debating on whether he should ask him what he’s doing here or thank him for the flowers. Red Hood speaks up before Danny can make a decision.

“So about that dinner… ” He trails off, tone laced with hope and a slight nervousness.

“Right.” Danny nods with understanding, despite not having a clue what Red Hood was talking about, his joke the night before having slipped from his mind.

“I’ve got the entire night planned out for us. First, we’ll have dinner at Pete’s. They recently rebuilt and they have this amazing cannoli, you have to try it sometime.

“And then after dinner, we’ll go to the Gotham Observatory—“

Danny, not even questioning how the crime lord found out where he lives and that he loves space, cuts him off in excitement.

“Wait! Isn’t that the one with the crystal powered telescope?”

Red Hood nods and holds out a hand to him expectantly.

Danny stares at the hand for a moment before shrugging, setting the flowers down on a table, and taking the offered hand. He lets Red Hood lead him out of his own window.

Once Red Hood has helped him down to the ground and led him to his motorcycle, it dawns on Danny he’s going on a date(?) with a known crime lord— or wasn’t it former crime lord now?

Well, who was Danny to refuse a trip to the observatory and some good cannoli?

Who knows, he might even get a new boyfriend out of it.

---

Red Hood takes his helmet off and sets it down on the table between them so he can eat.

Danny tries not to stare too much but damn, he’s handsome, even if he’s still wearing the mask.

Danny takes a bite of his food to try and distract himself, idly noting that ohhh, this is some good spaghetti. He'll have to try the cannoli if it's as good as their pasta.

Red Hood is the one to start the conversation.

“Hey, so, since we didn’t get to talk more last night, I still wanted to thank you for your service to the city”

“My what?”

“I’ve been wanting to kill that insane clown for years now.” Red Hood continues.

“And while I’m a little disappointed that I didn’t get to end his miserable existence myself, I’m so glad he’s finally gone. So, thank you” he says, looking Danny right in the eye with an earnest expression.

Feeling a mix of flustered at the heavy gaze that’s on him, and confused by the other’s words, Danny stammers out a bewildered “You’re… welcome?”

Red Hood nods at him before continuing.

“And you don’t have to worry about others finding out if you don’t want them to. I ain’t a snitch, and I’ll try to keep the Bats off your back the best I can.”

Danny gives him a nod in gratitude.

“Though honestly, I’d doubt you’d have to deal with much trouble even if people did know it was you who got rid of him.

“The Joker has done a lot of horrid shit and caused a lot of grief for Gotham over the years. He’s had it coming for a long time now, so don’t even feel too bad about it. It might even become a local holiday when his death comes out!”

However, something Red Hood had said stood out to Danny. He stiffens before blurting something out in a tone that sounded even more panicked than when he accidentally killed the clown.

“THAT CLOWN I PUNCHED WAS THE JOKER?!”

#dp x dc #dp x dc fic #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #danny: oh no! i killed a random clown :( #red hood: yo dude thanks for killing the joker :) #danny: i killed the joker?! (:0 #red hood: *nodding* and the world is a better place for it #danny didn't even acknowledge just who it was he was punching #he just registered 'clown' and 'being kidnapped' and freaked #afterwards he was too focused on the fact that he forgot to reign in his ghost strength and so accidentally killed the kidnapper #also red hood: *seeing the space-themed living room and the nasa shirt the twink is wearing* thank god the info i gathered was accurate #oh and i did look up flower meanings and flower color meanings so do with that info what you will #it's nothing special or secret but just a nice little detail ig #dead on main #dead on main ship

[amandaklwrites]

Movie Review: The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian (2008)

Genre: Children’s, Family/Action, Adventure/Fantasy

Rating: 10/10

Movie Review:

Man, Prince Caspian is such a great film.

I had seen it when it first came out in theaters (hello! Huge Narnia fan here, of course I did!), and I remember loving it so much. But funny enough, I don’t think I ever watched it again after that initial release. I didn’t even have on DVD until a few months ago. Recently, I had rediscovered my infinite love for Narnia (it was always there, it just came and went at times), so I had wanted to watch all the movies again. And as I watched Prince Caspian, I realized that I didn’t remember anything about this movie. So, it felt like watching it for the first time again!

And boy is it different. I like the take on the story. We have these four children who had grown up and had a whole life in this magical world, and then they return to their old world and have to start from the beginning. Could you even imagine? And the idea that when they do return to Narnia, it’s been like a thousand years since they had left??? I liked that the movie played with their reactions to this realization—that Narnia’s kings and queens had abandoned them, and the Pevensie’s have to live with that.

Before I get too much into the storyline, I should discuss the new addition to this world, the title character: Prince Caspian. I forgot how much I loved Ben Barnes as this role. He’s so fierce and confused and strong, and he’s finding himself throughout the entirety of this movie. He’s seeing the other side—Narnians and his people have been at war for so long. While he’s in the world of Narnia, having to rely on them and the Pevensie’s to help him, he can learn about this other side. He sympathizes with them, he understands the monstrosities his people have made to theirs. At the beginning, Caspian is only focused on one thing: the fact that his uncle murdered his father (ooh, so Hamlet-like!), and he wants revenge. But with the Pevensie children, with the Narnians at his side, he grows beyond that. He even learns that he doesn’t want to be a terrible person like his uncle and won’t kill him! Ben Barnes plays this role so well and you see his development over time, his understanding and learning as he progresses. Gah, if I didn’t already love Peter, Caspian would be my man!

What I also enjoyed was seeing a darker turn on Narnia. We see this land that had been so magical and new, and now it’s been hurt and destroyed, for the most part, for a thousand years since the joyous time after the White Witch’s reign. The Narnians have to deal with the fact that their rulers have returned, and most of them aren’t too happy about it. That was interesting in itself. Not many were rejoicing and explicitly happy that the Pevensie’s were back—they had to prove themselves worthy of the throne they had left (though it wasn’t on purpose). In an interesting way, they had to grow even more than they did in the first movie. They had to find themselves again.

Two of my favorite scenes, which interestingly, were the most brutal ones. The raid at Caspian’s castle was so honest and vicious and quite honestly, too much for a kid’s movie. That was a moment when I realized William Moseley was a fantastic actor—his face, his expression, when Peter had to make the decision to abandon his people that were trapped and killed off. I cried watching that part because the anguish and horror was right there—and it told the truth about being a ruler, at times, having to deal with those losses and deaths, and having to live with yourself after them. I thought William shined through in that moment.

My other favorite scene was the fight scene between Peter and Caspian’s uncle (I think Peter in my favorite?). I don’t know why, so I couldn’t even begin to fully explain myself, but I thought that whole action sequence was one of the most beautiful scenes ever filmed. The way they shot the action, the music, the tricks on the camera, the sound of the metal clashing, the actors/characters themselves. It was a scene that stuck with me afterward, and I couldn’t stop watching it in the first place.

I loved seeing everyone come back—William Moseley, Anna Popplewell, Skandar Keynes, and Georgie Henley—and how much they had grown up and morphed as actors! I felt like all of their characters had changed a lot (though still themselves deep down) and it all shone through the parts of the plot. Even seeing the White Witch make a return was so interesting and complicated, and the use to show how Edmund could tell the others, especially Caspian, to deter away from her was really profound. And of course, Aslan!! I love how he was there all the time, without actually being there for most of the film. It was so interesting and well done. The new additions were great, too—Reepicheep is so funny and such a delight! Peter Dinklage as Trumpkin was a wonderful character as well, and I liked that he worked as the gap between Narnia and the kids.

The hardest part about this film (in terms of plot, not anything wrong with the film) is when you come to the realization that nothing will ever be the same. Peter and Susan admit that they won’t be returning to Narnia, and that breaks my heart every single time. Because it means that they had learned what they needed, and their ready to move on with their lives, even if it means just keeping Narnia in their hearts (I feel that…). Journeys come to an end sometimes, and though they don’t want to, they know it is time.

I loved everything about this film. The action, the music, the fighting sequences, the raw emotion in the characters, the humor. It was a bit of a darker contrast to the first film, especially for the characters, but it helped spark the movement forward for the world of Narnia.

Definitely a favorite.

#prince caspian #prince caspian film #The Chronicles of Narnia #Movie Reviews

[purrincess-chat]

The Fall of Rome CH 2 (Final) [REUPLOAD]

I tweaked and fixed the inconsistencies in this one as well as a couple minor things in CH1, so hopefully it’s a bit more coherent now. 

Read on AO3

Chapter 2

It was risky. She knew it was. Plus, there was no guarantee that he’d actually say yes. Revenge wasn’t really her style, but after everything Lila had done…she had to try.

“No, no, I said without nuts, Mr. Stone is very- hang on, oh, Marinette, hi,” Penny said, lowering her phone onto her shoulder. “What can I help you with?”

“Um, I have a school project, and I have to interview someone who inspires me, and I was hoping Jagged would be willing,” Marinette said, holding up a blue folder with a smile.

“Yes, confirm the hair appointment- uh, Marinette, Jagged is kind of booked up today. When do you need to interview him by?” She asked then into her phone said, “be sure the M&Ms don’t have nuts this time.”

“I have to present it by tomorrow,” she said, and Penny tapped her pen on her lip. “3rd period. It’s around 11.”

“Can you do it live? Jagged has a little free time from 11 to 12 tomorrow,” Penny said, and Marinette pressed her lips together to hide her smirk.

“That would be great. Thanks, Penny!” Marinette said with a smile and a wave, but before she headed back up the hall, she paused to retrieve a folded note from her purse. “Um, one more thing…Can you give this to him for me?”

Penny eyed the letter as her phone rang, leaving little time for questions. She snatched the note and offered Marinette a parting smile and nod before shutting the suite door. Marinette clasped her hands behind her back, heading for the elevator with a triumphant smile.  

Step one of her plan was in motion. Now she just needed to focus on not going to far with step two. A lot of her friends were really angry with Lila, and she understood their feelings more than anyone. But it wouldn’t do them any good to humiliate Lila and harden her heart even more. If they wanted to get through to her, they needed to be smart about this.

The following day, Marinette went about business as usual, but as 3rd period drew closer, her nerves flared up with vigor. What if this all went horribly wrong? What if Lila managed to spin it back on her somehow? What if Jagged didn’t show, and she failed her project? She wasn’t sure which question scared her more.

“Yo, Marinette!” Well, she supposed she didn’t have to worry about one of those fears as Jagged approached her in the courtyard. He draped an arm over her shoulders with a wide grin, mussing her hair affectionately. “Inspired by your ol’ Uncle Jagged, are ya? Are you sure I shouldn’t be the one interviewing you?”

“You’re not getting a grade on it,” she giggled. “Thank you for coming. I know you’re busy.”

“I’m never too busy for my favorite little lady. We can rock out anytime,” he said, leaning down to her level and glancing around. “Now, which one is the troublemaker?”

“Oh, you’ll know her when you see her. She lies with every breath, and she threatened to turn everyone against me,” Marinette said and crossed her arms over her chest. “But she won’t be lying for long. A majority of the class has learned her little secret, and I’m sure once she sees you, she’ll know her little reign is over.” She paused for a moment, pursing her lips before asking, “You don’t think I’m being too mean with all of this, do you?”

“Not in the slightest. If it were me, I’d have called me up to expose her ages ago, and I’d have a crate of snakes delivered to her door. I did that once to a bloke who used me to get into the VIP section at an awards show once, so if you’re in the market, I know a guy,” Jagged said with a shrug. “Some people need to be called out or else they’ll never stop using others.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said as the bell rang, and she took a deep breath. “Well, let’s go hunt the fox, shall we?”

“Lead the way.”

Not wanting to cause a commotion, Marinette instructed Jagged to wait in the hall until it was time for her to present, and she locked eyes with Alya who quirked a brow the moment she entered the room. She gave an affirming nod that brought a smirk to her best friend’s lips as she sat down.

“Okay, class. Today we are presenting our important figures interviews, so who would like to go first?” Mlle. Bustier asked.

“I will.” Marinette’s hand shot up, and Mlle. Bustier’s eyes widened in surprise before a delighted smile curled on her lips.

“Wonderful! Go ahead, Marinette.”

Marinette moved to the front of the room, shooting a pointed glare at Lila as her classmates in the loop leaned in expectantly.

“Well, the person I picked to interview has a very busy schedule, so I didn’t actually find time to interview him outside of class, but he graciously agreed to come today so I could conduct the interview right here,” she said, and several of her classmates grinned in unison as she opened the door to reveal Jagged Stone on the other side.

The room erupted with chatter as Jagged joined her at the front of the room, and Lila slipped down into her seat. Mlle. Bustier clapped her hands to regain order and nodded for Marinette to continue.

“Thank you for coming today, Jagged,” she said with a sweet smile.

“No sweat, Marinette. You’re part of the Stone family now,” he said, and Marinette flicked her gaze over to Lila who glared daggers at her before proceeding.

“Okay, so when did you first decide that you wanted to do music?” Marinette started, focusing on the interview since it was part of her grade. The real show didn’t start until afterward, so she may as well relax and get a good grade.

Jagged was, no doubt, a big hit with the rest of the class. He was such an animated character that Marinette almost forgot why she’d invited him here. Almost.

“One last question,” she said at the end, doing her best not to look up at Lila. “What advice can you give to someone like me?”

“Well, any artistic industry is going to come with challenges, and if I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s to be careful who you trust. There are a lot of people in the world who are going to feed you pretty stories to make you trust them, but you should never believe people so easily,” he said. “Because a lot of the time, they just want to use you. I’ve been burned many times by record companies, assistants, and even friends. Your support system is vital when you’re starting out and have nothing because those people are going to be the ones cheering you on from the beginning, so be sure that the people in it are truly people with your best interests at heart.”

The class applauded, and Marinette stretched up to hug Jagged. It was showtime.

“Hey, Jagged, can I get a picture with you for my blog?” Alya asked, holding up her phone.

“Yeah, can I get an autograph!”

“Me too!”

Her classmates crowded around him, that is, all save but one. Jagged flicked his gaze to Marinette who gave him a nod.

“I’ve really got to be off, so why don’t we do a group photo?” He said, glancing over everyone until his eyes found Lila still sitting at the back of the room. “Oy, you, what’s your name? Don’t you want to be in the picture?”

“What? You mean you don’t recognize her?” Kim asked with a laugh, and when Lila stiffened, Marinette felt her stomach do a somersault.

“Should I?” He placed his hands on his hips, squinting a little for show. “Wait, have I had you thrown out of my suite before?”

“Lila saved your precious kitten when it got lost on an airport runway before you found out you were allergic, that is. Surely, such a heroic deed wouldn’t be so easily forgotten,” Max said, and Jagged rubbed the back of his head.

“Uh, right, except, ya see, I’ve had Fang a long time. Longer than any of you have been alive. He was my first fan, and he’s been my best friend most of my life,” Jagged said. “I’ve never even owned a kitten. I’m more of a reptile guy.”

Lila’s jaw clenched at everyone’s collective gasp, her shoulders curling when every eye in the room trained on her.

“So then, there’s no way Lila could have saved your kitten,” Alix said with mocking disbelief, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Which means that Lila lied?” Nathaniel frowned, and the girl in question glared through Marinette before standing up and racing from the room.

“See what I mean? This happens all the time when you’re famous. People make up all kinds of stories to impress people, but most of them aren’t even true,” Jagged sighed as if it couldn’t be helped. “If there’s any young lady out there who’s saved me, it’s Marinette who kept my image from being ruined by the likes of Bob Roth. She’s my true hero.”

Her cheeks flushed as Jagged wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gestured for everyone to gather around.

“Say Jagged!”

***

The news of Lila’s farce spread fast, and by lunch everyone suddenly remembered how the internet worked and her lies had all been debunked. Marinette should have been happy, especially when all of her friends apologized for doubting her, but she couldn’t shake the pit in her stomach as she pushed food around on her tray.

The whole school knew Lila was a liar now which is what she’d always wanted, but for some reason, she couldn’t quite bring herself to celebrate. She shouldn’t feel guilty because Lila did it to herself. The truth was bound to come out in the end, so why then did Marinette feel so uneasy?

Maybe it was an early phase of food poisoning. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Adrien hadn’t met her eye all day because despite giving his permission, he hadn’t been immensely impressed with the whole debacle they’d arranged. Or maybe in some grand stretch of the imagination, she actually felt sorry for Lila. As horrible as she was, everyone deserved a chance to change, right? To make amends? Of course, she could argue that she’d given Lila that chance on many occasions, but it was different this time. This time, Rome had actually fallen, and Lila had gotten crushed under the bricks.

Sometimes Marinette hated her conscience.

“Adrien,” she said, shrinking a little as he paused rearranging his books in his locker to look over his shoulder. When he saw it was her, he lowered his gaze and turned back.

“Hey, Marinette,” he said, and her heart splintered at his dismissive tone. It was distant and curt. Cold, almost.

“I know you’re probably mad at me for exposing her like that,” she said, and Adrien shook his head.

“I’m not mad,” he said, finally flicking those green eyes up to meet her gaze. “After all, I left the choice in your hands, but I guess in a way I’m just…disappointed.” When she lowered her head, he continued, “I just thought that…if anyone could get through to her and help her, it’d be you, but maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s best if we just let her live with the consequences.”

“Or maybe we still can,” she said, taking a breath. “I have an idea, but I’ll need your help.”

 An hour later, Marinette rang Lila’s doorbell, her shoulders tense, but this was the right thing to do. At least, she hoped.

“Hello, Mme. Rossi,” she said when Lila’s mother answered the door.

“Oh, goodness, you must be Lila’s school friends,” she said, taking in the large group standing behind Marinette.

“That’s right. We were hoping to have a movie night with Lila,” Marinette explained, and Kim held up their selections.

“How fun! I was just on my way out, so this is perfect timing. Lila gets lonely while I’m at work, and I know she’s very shy and has trouble fitting in. It’s so sweet that you all came to help her feel welcome.” Mme. Rossi placed a hand over her heart. It seemed as though they weren’t the only people Lila lied to, but Marinette wasn’t about to correct her. “Lila! Your friends from school are here, and I’m heading out.”

The girl in question crept out of her room with narrow, skeptical eyes that flicked between each face as if bracing herself for the inevitable ridicule. But it never came.

“Kim brought the movies, and Nino and Ivan got snacks,” Marinette said, but Lila just crossed her arms over her chest.

“Why are you all here?” She asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Because we’re your friends, Lila,” Nino said, and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah right, you guys just came here to rub it in,” she said with a huff, and Marinette glanced at Adrien who gave her an encouraging nod.

“Lila, we came here because we want you to know that you don’t have to lie to us to get us to like you. We want to be friends with you – the real you, if you want,” Marinette said, and her friends all gave nods of agreement. “So, what do you say?”

Lila held her gaze for a long time, searching it for any hint of deceit, but each face only reflected the same warmth. A warmth that, if Marinette had to guess, she wasn’t used to seeing because after a moment, she averted her gaze.

“I don’t get it,” she said, shaking her head. “You should all hate me.”

“Oh, trust me,” Alya said with a laugh. “We did.”

“But Marinette convinced us to give you a second chance because someone who tries so hard to get attention from others must be missing it in their life,” Nino said, draping an arm over Marinette’s shoulders. “Marinette is the glue that holds us all together, and she can always bring out the good in others if you let her.”

“It’s true. She’s even made Chloe a bit less unsufferable at times this year,” Nathaniel said.

“We’ll be your friends,” Mylene started.

“On one condition,” Alix said, holding up her index finger.

“No more lies.” It was Adrien who spoke, and he gave her a chiding look.

Lila pursed her lips and shifted her weight. She was quiet for a long time, and Marinette almost expected her to kick them out. But when she flicked those green eyes that had once been so guarded and hostile back at Marinette, they now carried a sense of insecurity and fear as if she wanted to reach out but forgot how to move her arms.

“Fine,” she said, and Marinette’s lips broke into a smile as the class crowded around Lila, piling into an awkward embrace.

Of course, it took a long time for Lila to fully build their trust again, and they took everything she said with a grain of salt for a while. It was to be expected, but over time, Lila relaxed and so did they. Her smiles came more freely. Her laughs were less forced, and as Marinette watched her chatting with Mylene and Alya across the locker room, she couldn’t help but smile. And that was before Adrien approached her.

“You really are a hero, Marinette,” he said, and her spine stiffened.

“I- what? I’m what? You- I’m not a- no.” At his laugh, she realized what he’d meant and that her cover was safe, and she laughed too.

“I don’t suppose you could change Chloe?” He quirked a brow, and Marinette made a face.

“One self-absorbed girl at a time, please,” she said, and Adrien smirked.

“Yeah, I know. She’s gonna take a lot of work, but I bet between the two of us, we can get through to her,” he said, nudging her with his elbow. “I’m really glad you decided to help her. You really are amazing.”

He patted her shoulder before retreating back up the aisle, and Marinette bit her lip hard to ensure she wasn’t dreaming. She wasn’t.

Lila had come a long way since she came to their school. She’d learned the hard way that kingdoms built on lies would only crumble, but like any fallen empire, it can be reborn, this time with truth and the help of new friends. Lila found that damage could be mended brick-by-brick if she was just willing to open herself up, and Marinette, for one, was glad to have a new friend instead of an enemy.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #lila rossi #lila redemption #my writing

[concussed-to-pieces]

Bookish

Fandom: WWE

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

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Thirsty crew! This is some self-indulgent, romance-novel levels of hurt/comfort, touchy-feely shenanigans. I hope you like it! Tagging @toxiicpop, @oraclegazes and of course, @hardcorewwetrash! Enjoy!

(Also apologies on this being a little late, the wifi was not cooperating)

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains rampant, wanton parental neglect.]

Since you had been very, very young, you’d been informed of your parents love for you. Numerous caretaker figures had reassured you of this, and there always seemed to be a package waiting when you got home from school with far-off places on the label, brimming with odds and ends to enrich your mind or new toys for you to play with.

But they were rarely home in person. You grew accustomed to hearing their voices through speakers or seeing their faces lit with tired, blueish light from whatever screen they had in front of them.

Loneliness wasn’t so much a feeling as it was a constant drone in the background. You thought you were used to it but it would flare brighter at random intervals, softly whispering about your solitude.

Maybe my parents don’t like me.

As you grew older family movies made your heart ache and you began to change the channel before the melancholy could ruin your day. Sixteen came and went, eighteen came and went.

Your last caretaker departed sometime during your nineteenth year and left you well and truly alone in the large house, aside from the individuals who came in to clean. You decided to take some rudimentary classes at the local college. It wasn't exactly like you had much to do now that high school was done with, and you did love reading almost everything you could get your hands on.

Twenty-one came and went, and with it went the end of proverbial 'milestone' birthdays. The years continued to file by in a neat, orderly fashion.

Maybe there's something wrong with me.

On the rare occasions where your parents came home, it was so brief and predictable that the instances began to blur together in your mind. The stiff hugs, the oh you’ve gotten so big!, the kiss on your cheek. You weren’t sure as you got older whether you were the idiot for rushing to the door every time they arrived, or whether they were the idiots for coming back.

But this might be different. A spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. Your mother had come breezing by entirely unannounced (which was unheard of), and she was thrilled.

“There’s a gala,” Your mother said with what sounded like real excitement in her voice, “And you’ve been invited too! You’re an adult now, sweetheart. You need a dress!”

You wanted to point out that seeing as you were well into your twenties, you’d been an adult for a while. But you kept your mouth shut.

You had never spent any real length of time with your mother. It was odd, wandering through a bridal shop with (essentially) a stranger who somehow had intimate knowledge of your goings-on. Occasionally though, you would catch a glimpse of a black suit and your shoulders would relax again at the implication of your safety.

Dean, Roman and Seth had been assigned as your personal security after an incident almost a year ago; someone had broken into your parent’s house while you slept peacefully and you had woken up to a loud bang when the door to your bedroom flew open. You had screamed and the intruder had fled rapidly, but the damage was done. For the weeks afterward you were escorted to and from your college classes by numerous severely-dressed women or men at all times, “until I figure out a permanent solution,” your father had said over the phone.

You amused yourself in classes thinking about them sitting outside the door like a group of bored puppies.

When at home it was like living with three to four interchangeable ghosts. The roster and names varied over the days but the personalities stayed the same. Cool, calm, the definition of organized. Not a hair out of place. You thought about The Matrix and mused on whether you were Neo or Mr. Smith. Most of the time though, you just felt like the woman in the red dress.

Sometimes you wondered what on Earth other people must think as they watched your veritable battalion of suits sit with you in the library. Maybe they think I’m in a witness protection program! That would be kind of cool. Or that I work for the CIA. Anything really, to distract or downplay the fact that you sat at an empty table.

...

You had come home from classes one Saturday, looking forward to a day off from schooling as you waved goodbye to the group that had escorted you to your front gate. “I can take it from here guys, drive safe!” You tried your best to always be decent to the people watching out for you, figuring that this glorified babysitting was way more embarrassing for them than it was for you. After all, these were individuals with actual training! They hadn’t grown up in a plush house with someone to take care of their needs and parents that loved them, you were fairly sure.

You punched in the code, unlocked the front door and stepped in, hanging up your coat and quickly taking off your shoes. There were house rules, after all. You made your way to the kitchen for your after-school snack once you did your usual check to make sure that the security system was armed, then froze in the doorway when you realized you weren’t alone. And not in the usual, the foursome shifts overlapped kind of way!

A young man with a prominent blond streak in his brown hair was hanging upside-down by his knees from one of the stylistically-exposed rafters in the kitchen, absently swinging himself back and forth like it was the most normal thing in the world. You stared for what felt like forever, utterly confused.

“Um…excuse me?” Your voice made his head turn in your direction and he dropped gracefully to the island below him, somehow managing to land with hardly any noise. “W-Who are you?” Brown eyes focused on your face as he quickly stalked on all fours over the counter, heading for you. You went to back up, suddenly terrified for your life, and you ended up backing into someone. Instinctively beginning to apologize, you half-turned to bolt and a set of arms wrapped around your waist, immobilizing you.

“Easy, you’re safe.” Said a voice that was so gravelly it sent a shiver through your body. “Rollins, knock it off. They’re shakin’ like a leaf.” The man who had spoken was tall with fierce blue eyes and messy blond hair, his jaw coated with a day's worth of growth. He looked at you curiously. “You okay, kid?”

“Aw, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Rollins apologized as he got down from the counter. “Was just having some fun.”

“W-Why are you in my house? Who are you people?!” You began struggling frantically in the other man’s grip. “Let me go! Don’t touch me!”

The blond chuckled and released you, your sudden freedom making you stumble forward. “Your parents hired us full-time. Said you needed some protection. You ought to have a notification about it.”

“I…” You whipped out your phone, moving to check your normally-barren text messages. Sure enough, there was a new one from your father. You could see Rollins shifting back and forth as you read. Their names are Dean, Seth, and Roman. “I just…please don’t touch me.” You said nervously.

“Yeah, I scared them?” Rollins huffed indignantly. “Good going Ambrose.”

“Reigns ought to be done by now, where the-” Whatever the blond man was about to say was halted by a loud thud from upstairs. “Oh Christ.” He groaned. Rollins beckoned for you to follow as Ambrose headed off towards the grand staircase. “Fuck me Roman, if you broke something...”

“I tripped! All I did was trip. It’s just really empty in here.” Protested a third man from the top of the stairs. “Echoes. Oh! They’re home. Hey.” He offered a nonchalant wave and you waved back dumbly, taking in the smooth black ponytail hanging over his shoulder. And that tattoo! It covered the majority of his right arm and spilled onto his chest beneath his loose tank top. “Oh God, did you see Rollins in the…whoops, you did. I told him he shouldn’t-”

“Don’t start, Reigns.” Rollins growled. “You encouraged my ass.”

“I said within reason!” Reigns corrected.

“If we could focus for five seconds here, gentlemen.” Ambrose whipped back around to face you. “My name is Dean Ambrose. That’s Seth Rollins.” He gestured towards the young man with the blond streak. “And that’s Roman Reigns.” There was a finger aimed at the large man at the top of the staircase. “We’ve been hired to apparently lurk on your every move.” Dean raised an eyebrow. “Your parents didn’t tell us why, but I guess that’s need-to-know information and we don't need.”

“S-Somebody broke into our house.” You said shakily. “I’m kind of alone up here, since my last caretaker left. They don't want me walking to my classes by myself either.”

“So pretty standard stuff. A sheltered young person with overprotective parents.” The looks Dean kept giving you made you even more nervous. “Do you keep a copy of your schedule somewhere?”

“I found it already, top of the fridge.” Seth produced your folded-up class schedule from his pocket and Ambrose pored over it while you stood there awkwardly. “Not really any points that need attention, honestly.”

“I can see that. Reigns, why are you still up there?” Ambrose scolded. “Get down here man.”

“Ambrose you’re being kinda’ rude.” Roman pointed out. “We need to explain. They’re obviously confused.”

“No no!” You said quickly, determined to not seem like an idiot. “I totally understand.”

“See? They’re fine. C’mon.” Ambrose grunted.

“Are you sure?” Rollins asked, his brow furrowed as he gave you a worried look. “We don't mind explaining, if you need it.”

“Absolutely. My dad keeps me in the loop.” That was an outright lie. “I guess I just forgot today was the day you guys were showing up, is all.”

“You're really isolated here, y'know.” Dean commented absently after they had huddled up for a minute or two. “Kid like you must have a lot of buddies. We figured you'd come back with your friends or something. ”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“S-Sometimes I do.” You wanted to be indignant about being called kid, but you were too snagged on the idea of friends. The word hurt a little, chipping at parts of you that you'd thought had smoothed over ages ago. “My parents said I should keep most people at arm's length.” Seth looked like he was about to say something so you quickly offered, “Would you guys like a snack? I...usually once I get out of school I make myself some apple slices with peanut butter.”

“Culinary wonders abound with you, huh kid?” Ambrose asked sarcastically.

“Dean.” Roman chided. “We've already had lunch. Thank you, though.” He continued to you.

“I'm sorry, I don't mean to...I'm not used to dealin' with someone your age.” Dean apologized awkwardly.

“If you try to pat me on the head, I will hit you.” You warned and Rollins exploded into laughter. Roman looked shocked and Ambrose's crooked grin caught you off-guard. “'Someone my age', please. Someone who's an adult? You've never dealt with an adult before?”

“So there is a personality in there!” Ambrose chuckled. “Was beginning to worry. Nah, we're just used to dealin' with old, scared businessmen. Y'know, more wrinkles than skin, pickled in brandy and reeking like cigars. Not used to interactin' with a person under the age of seventy, except for these fine gentlemen.”

“I'll take you up on your offer. Kinda' hungry still.” Seth admitted. “Didn't want to take anything out of the fridge without asking.”

“Help yourself, please. My parents have weekly deliveries. It's a bit much considering it's just me here.” You ushered him back into the kitchen.

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

...

The three men took some adjusting to.

That’s an understatement, you thought ruefully as Dean carried on an increasingly-loud conversation with Rollins about Robert Louis Stevenson's Kidnapped. The book in question was open on the table in front of them. You had been hoping to study during your lunch in the library, but instead you were being subjected to what felt like the world’s slowest battle of wits while Rollins asked what Jacobites were for the hundredth time.

Maybe it was because you knew the source material of their discussion so well, or maybe it was because you were actually trying to study, but you found your knuckles whitening on the book you currently held. You'd stumbled across the decks and highlands a thousand times in the shoes of 'young Davie', seeking an escape from the echoing silence of the house around you.

Roman was a saving grace in this situation, standing behind both men and pulling strange faces at you over their heads in an effort to get you to laugh. You finally caved in and started to snicker, startling both Seth and Dean into looking up at you. “Sorry, I just…” You floundered for a minute and then buried your flushed face back in the book you’d been trying to read.

“Oh shit, we're in a library.” Dean hissed like he'd forgotten. Sometimes the way the three men behaved made you think that they'd never had an official detail in their lives. Your rotating phalanx before they had showed up were men and women who either took themselves seriously or took themselves too seriously.

For example, the other day you had awoken to shrill yelling and maniacal laughter. When you stumbled from your room to find out what on earth was going on, you ended up running smack into a fleeing Ambrose with Reigns hot on his heels. Dean practically giggled into your neck as you laid there underneath him, still half-asleep and confused while his arms wrapped around you and gripped tightly.

Roman picked the both of you up as he grabbed Dean by the back of his pants, grunting when Ambrose refused to release you. Seth came whipping around the corner with a towel draped over his hips, looking excessively put-out. In his hand was a cartoonishly-large toy spider. “Ambrose!” He was caterwauling and you got the feeling that this arachnid-related torment was nothing new. “How many times do I have to...tell...” Rollins quickly lost steam as his eyes fell to you. A blush began to tint his face and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally making an indignant sound and throwing the spider at Ambrose's back with all his strength.

It bounced off harmlessly and landed on the rug, limbs moving feebly back and forth. It was a simple wind-up toy, and you supposed in this instance it literally wound Seth up. A little giggle issued from you when you pointed that out and Roman looked like he had the barest handle on his laughter. Ambrose didn't even try, just dissolving back into hysterics and burying his face in your shoulder as Seth stormed off angrily.

They made it extremely difficult for you to hold them at arm's length.

Each man was endearing in their own way. Roman got you into the habit of finding two exits from every room you were in. “Whether you gotta' make one of 'em yourself is up to you.” He had said, glancing pointedly up at the ceiling tiles of the library.

Seth showed you a few of his workout routines for when you had extra energy to burn. You had yet to swing from any rafters, of course, but he kept promising that was the next step. “You'll be Keaton-ing before you know it!”

Ambrose was rough around the edges and the quietest of the three, though he always had a random tidbit of useful knowledge to share (always at the strangest times). “Eight pounds of pressure per square inch will break a jaw real easy.” He'd stated out of the blue during one study period, making you nearly choke on your soda. “Punch or pinch the throat if you really wanna' stop a guy, though.”

The funniest part was the way that Roman and Seth always nodded after he spoke, like they were also absorbing the sage advice from their counterpart.

“What's Dean's story?” You asked Roman curiously one day.

“Not one for you to worry about.” Reigns answered, his voice oddly curt. That of course only added fuel to your fire and you resolved to suss out the mysterious tale of Dean's life.

By grilling Seth.

“Listen, he's had a hard time of it. I mean, we all have in our own ways. Dean just deals with it differently.” Rollins said finally after you refused to let up. “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. To have this job now...shit, it's like a dream for us.” He mumbled the last bit, glancing up at you through his hair.

He carried on fiddling with a sticky lock on one of the windows in the guest bedroom. It kept giving the security system false readings, usually after two in the morning, which had resulted in more than a few sleepless nights.

Roman had very little patience when it came to you waking up during alerts; the large man always gave a two-second warning and if you weren't upright by then he scooped you into his arms like you were a child, carrying you easily down the stairs to the foyer with Rollins and Ambrose flanking him.

One night you weren't so sure it was a false reading. The window had actually been open, according to a tense Dean. “I don't like this shit one bit. It's like someone is fucking with us or feeling us out.” He had growled once Roman left to do a thorough sweep of the upstairs. You sat on the kitchen table, knowing without looking that Rollins was perched on one of the rafters overhead.

“Maybe we're just being paranoid.” Seth suggested. “What if one of the cleaners left it open?”

“I feel like we would have noticed, man. I dunno'. We'll see.” Dean hopped up onto the table beside you, pressing his thigh against your own. “Catch some 'Z's.” He ordered, like you would instantly pass out upon hearing the command. You shook your head and he grumbled under his breath, pulling you tight to his side after a momentary hesitation. “Look, you don't have to worry if we're around.” Ambrose said gruffly. “We got it covered.” His fingers dug into your hair for a second and he began to slowly rub the back of your neck. “We got it covered. Sleep.”

“Can't.” You protested, looking up at him warily. The firm pressure of his hand was so foreign, the casual presence of his thigh against yours an alien sensation. When was the last time you had been touched like this, treated like you were someone to be comforted? Your eyes half-lidded and Ambrose made a satisfied noise.

“There, that's it. Shh.” He murmured. “You're safe here with us.”

You had lingered there between asleep and awake for what seemed like hours (Roman's sweeps were very thorough), just allowing Dean to rub your neck and shoulders. When it was finally time to return to bed, you barely remembered Roman's arms around you.

You woke up a little later and drowsily realized you were sandwiched in between the three men, your face snuggled into Roman's chest and Seth pressed tightly to your back. Ambrose's arm was flung over Roman's side, his hand resting on your shoulder.

You're safe here with us.

…

Which was how you’d ended up in this mess, crammed into a dressing room with Seth’s large body protectively shielding your own half-clothed one. You had been in the middle of getting undressed when Seth vaulted over the top of the wall and quickly put a hand on your mouth.

“Be very quiet.” He whispered, and you nodded. “There’s a guy out there and he may be looking for you.”

You were already scared stiff, it wasn’t much of a stretch to be silent. Why would he look for me?

“Nothing is gonna’ happen to you while we’re here. Ambrose spotted him following you and your mom. Have to see if we can get their security to chase him off without a fuss.” Seth turned to face the door, squaring his shoulders like he was trying to make himself look bigger.

His words didn’t do much to alleviate the terror you felt. This was the break-in all over again. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, tight enough to ache. Seth seemed to notice, because he reached back to take your hand. Hesitated. Then kept going, his fingers loosely wrapping around your wrist. He pulled you closer when you didn’t protest, your cheek resting on his shoulder blade. You could feel his back rise and fall with his breathing, the thudding of his heart nearly drowning out everything else.

There was a noise from outside the door and Seth tensed, his hold tightening on you. You wished you could disappear into the floor, just curl up into yourself and vanish. Seth flinched when the door handle gave a sudden click! as the lock disengaged. You couldn’t see over his shoulder so you grabbed his hand, squeezing it as tight as you could. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-

“It’s us, man. They got him.” Roman said quietly.

Seth turned and exhaled a long breath of relief as Roman’s arm slung over one shoulder and Dean’s draped over the other. Like they had planned it, the three men drew you into a hug. You didn’t realize you were crying until Dean smeared a tear off your cheek, looking more worried than you’d ever seen him. “You don’t need to be scared when we’re around.” He grumbled. “How many times we gotta’ tell you that?”

“I’m sorry, I just-”

“Shh, keep trying stuff on.” Rollins interrupted softly. “I’m sure your mom will be over any second now and the last thing we want is her thinking something is up.”

Ambrose stepped back, his eyes narrowed to bright blue slits. “What do you mean, somethin’?”

“You know exactly what he means man, knock it off.” Roman bumped Dean with his shoulder. “We’re in a dressing room with them and they’re half-naked. Because Lord knows none of us have any sort of restraint, we just go straight primal.” He huffed.

Ambrose grabbed a dress off the wall at random and quickly unzipped the back of it for you. “Here.”

“I-I don’t even like th-that one.” You protested tremulously, making Roman snort.

“It’s irrelevant, she’s gonna’ put you into something you hate and you know it. All you are is a goddamn doll to her.” Dean snapped, the words hitting you hard. “Besides, what’s wrong with it? S’ that princess cut. Everyone likes a princess cut.”

“Why do you-!” Now you wanted to argue, how dare he say something like that about your mother? The woman I barely know. What an audacious assumption!

“Not important. Color is godawful, but nothing we can do about that.” Dean shook the bunch of fabric at you impatiently. “C’mon.”

“I feel stupid.” You complained even as you stepped into the skirt.

“Trust me, no matter how you feel, you look even dumber.” Dean promised, making Seth slap him on the arm. “What Rollins, s'just a joke, we all know they look fine no matter what they’re wear…” Dean’s sentence trailed off as he zipped the back of the dress up and his eyes met yours in the mirror for the longest second of your life. “…ing.”

A knock on the dressing room door made all of you jump. “Honey, you doing okay in there? I have a bunch more for you to try!” Seth started mouthing swears, all but windmilling his arms.

I need to be a diversion, you realized suddenly.

You put your finger to your lips and reached for the door handle. “Actually Mom,” You began slowly, opening the dressing room door just enough to slip out. “I was wondering if there was something in this style, but a different color?” You circled your mother so she turned her back to the dressing room, swirling the skirt of the dress around your legs. “I like this one, it’s just the color.” You grimaced, trying not to watch Seth and Dean slink out of the dressing room and flee down the hallway back to the store. Roman winked at you before following the other two men and you felt yourself start to blush, your fingers twisting the skirt nervously.

Your mother clapped her hands together, seeming weirdly excited. All she wants is a doll to dress up, all you are is a doll to her. Dean’s words sat in your stomach like a brick. Not her kid, just a toy. “Of course honey! What color did you have in mind?”

…

The gala was shaping up to be a royal pain. Every time you turned around there was another person you needed to be introduced to, another person who got to react strangely to your parents announcing that they had a fully-grown child. Had you been aware that you were such a closely-guarded secret, you would have opted to stay that way. As such, you were stuck clumsily trekking through unfamiliar posturing and niceties. Your face already ached from smiling.

The worst part was that your father had given your security trio the night off. “You boys go have fun, alright? Our treat. You’ve worked hard enough. Hope our little one wasn’t too much trouble.” Your father had said grandly, like you weren’t standing right there.

“We’ll report back by eight o’ clock tomorrow morning, sir.” Was all Roman had said in reply.

Dean and Seth both remained silent while your father blustered “that’s too early,” and “I want you boys to enjoy yourselves!” You had never noticed how much your father stank of cigar smoke until you saw Seth's nostrils flare and Ambrose seemed downright twitchy while dealing with the older man, his whole body tense.

“Eight o’ clock. Sir.” Roman repeated sternly.

You longed for the comfort their company brought you, the safety you felt when you caught sight of a suit out of the corner of your eye. You were nervous, so nervous, still confused about the man in the shop the other day. Why would he have been looking for me? The evidence you’d gathered tonight alone seemed to indicate that no one even knew you existed. What if he was a hitman, sent to kill me? What if I’m in danger right this second? You glanced around furtively. Everyone looked suspicious to you, well-dressed men and women clustered in their little groups. Maybe you read too many murder mysteries. What if my parents are secretly not my parents at all, but robots?!

“Ah, have you met our child? Honey, come here.” Your mother's sweet tone interrupted your frantic thought process and you whipped around, tacking your smile back on quickly so you could interact with more people you would (hopefully) never see again.

“They are remarkably plain for being your child, my dear.” The older woman standing by your mother sniffed. “I would have thought the two of you could muster up someone a bit more...striking.”

“Hey easy, they take after me!” Your father chuckled, a heavy hand landing on your shoulder. You felt like the room was too small. “What did you expect? We sure as heck weren't keeping some beauty cooped up in that place after all!” His laugh was a sharp guffaw that made you flinch. “Nope, brainiac through and through, this one! But I think they clean up pretty good.” He cupped your chin and turned your head to the side, displaying your perfectly-applied makeup. “The wife works miracles, am I right?”

That was it. That was it. You jerked your face out of his hand and if looks could kill, he would have been on the eleven o' clock news. Your father shifted back, seeming concerned. “Don't.” Was all you said through your clenched teeth before you made your daring escape.

Slowly, tripping over the skirt of your dress as you fought your way through the groups of people and tried your hardest not to cry.

While your mother had been doing your makeup and prattling away with your father you'd felt like a princess, like they might actually love you and care about you, like their absence had been a misunderstanding. You stayed quiet and let the conversation wash over you, just listening to your parents talk to one another.

Like I wasn't even there.

Your lower lip quivered as you stumbled out into one of the many hallways that branched out from the main room like a rabbit warren. Everything was so unfamiliar. More than anything you wished you were home right now, curled up in your bed with a good book.

Someone grabbed your arm as you passed a shadowy alcove in the hallway and you lashed out for the person’s throat like Ambrose had taught you, savagely gratified when you heard a muffled grunt after your hand connected. A set of black-framed glasses tumbled to the floor, knocked loose by your enthusiastic movement.

“Christ.” Seth gasped, rubbing his neck as he stepped forward into the light. “Go easy on a guy, will you?”

You were unable to keep from lunging at him, wrapping your arms around his waist and clinging to him silently. Your tears started to soak the fabric of his shirt as he paused, then hugged you back.

“Easy, easy, it’s okay. We’re getting you out of here.” He murmured once you let him go, patting around on the carpet for his glasses. “Didn't mean to scare you.” The frames settled back onto his nose. You had never seen him with his glasses on. And in his street clothes for the first time since the day you'd met, his painted on skinny jeans! It was strange, like there was a part of him you didn't know. Logically that was true, you didn't exactly ask what he did in his free time. “Reigns and Ambrose are around the block. You ready?” Seth held out his hand and you took it without a second of hesitation, making him give you a happy, boyish grin.

...

“Look at that! Somehow you managed to spirit Cinderella away from the ball before the clock struck twelve, right out from under the noses of their evil parents!” Dean praised Rollins, “Back to your princes where you belong, eh gorgeous?” His teasing tone differed so much from your father's; you rolled your eyes when he called you 'gorgeous'.

“Alright, everyone in the car.” Roman ordered. They were all wearing their street clothes and you took the opportunity to appraise the three, enjoying what you saw. Seth, of course, filled out his skinny jeans to perfection, but Roman and Dean weren't far behind. Roman wore a simple zip-up sweatshirt with a loose pair of jeans, his long hair tucked up into a baseball cap. Ambrose had on a leather jacket and a set of jeans that somehow made his waist look even trimmer than usual. They looked good. Relaxed.

“How did you guys know I was in trouble?” You asked from your spot between Dean and Seth in the backseat.

Roman snorted loudly as he shifted gears. “You’ve barely been socialized your entire life and now all of a sudden you’re expected to deal with a whole damn party of people? I’m impressed you survived as long as you did.”

“Where are we going?”

“Surprise!” Seth said quickly as Dean opened his mouth. “It's a surprise. You'll see.”

The surprise was apparently a bowling alley. You hung back behind the wall of Roman at the front counter, clinging to his hand as you felt shy and awkward. You must look so ridiculous, dressed up in this silly gown while the three men with you were in normal clothes.

A pair of arms wrapped around your waist and then Dean rested his cheek on the top of your head, swaying you back and forth as he waited for Roman to finish paying for their lane and shoes. Seth was bouncing up and down beside you like a small child, accepting his shoes from Roman with an excited whoop and bolting for the lane. “He's such a kid sometimes.” Dean grumbled, his words laced with fondness.

Roman nodded in agreement, the side of his mouth tugging up in a smile. His hand slid to the small of your back and he guided you over to the chairs by the lane. Seth was already busily tapping names into the display board while you tried to get your dress out of the way to put on your shoes. “I don't know if I'll...” You trailed off as Dean knelt in front of you and helped you escape your elaborate party shoes, the blond man chuckling when he saw your Batman-patterned no-show socks. “What?” You asked defensively, “My mom said I had to put on nylons, she didn't say I couldn't wear anything over them.”

“How many other workarounds you got, gorgeous?” Ambrose asked with a grin. “I feel like we could all learn somethin' tonight.”

“I'm not allowed to wear tank tops, but they never mentioned sleeveless shirts.”

Roman laughed incredulously. “What do they have against tank tops? Those are ninety-five percent of my wardrobe.”

“The skin that they show.” You shrugged and Dean looked up at you, his large hand cupping under your calf so he could wiggle one of the bowling shoes on. “I can't have ice cream after eleven. Frozen yogurt isn't ice cream.”

“Alright, we're all set. Prepare to be crushed, Roman!” Seth announced as the board overhead went live.

...

You were delivered safely to your parent’s house some time between one and two in the morning. The house was dark and silent, like always, and Roman set you down in the foyer while Dean fumbled for the light switch. It didn't appear that your parents were back yet. Seth urged you up the stairs to your room while you yawned and rubbed your eyes, those terrible heels abandoned by the door so you could actually manage the stairs in the first place.

“Bathroom first, we need to get your war paint off.” Roman said softly once you entered your room. Obediently you kept moving to the smaller room, faintly entertained when all three men followed into the tight space.

Seth took the washcloth from you and you just sat there propped up against the sink, letting him carefully rid you of the layers of smooth foundation and bright eyeshadow. “There, that's better.” He said with a gentle smile. “You're so beautiful.”

“Pretty with, pretty without.” Ambrose agreed, scooping you up off the sink counter. You were certain you were dreaming at this point and so you let yourself be carried back into the bedroom, resting your cheek on his shoulder. Dean laid you down on your bed and rolled you onto your stomach, slowly unzipping the dress you wore. “Shh, it's alright.” He murmured when you shivered, his fingers trailing down the bare skin of your back. “You're safe.”

A bearded mouth pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade, whether it was Roman or Seth you couldn't tell. You hummed, arching your back and snuggling down into the bedspread as more kisses landed. “Sleep good.” Roman's voice rumbling was the last thing you could remember before you drifted off.

...

It became a ritual of sorts between the four of you. At least twice a month they would take a 'day off' and essentially loose you upon the unsuspecting populace. You attempted rollerblading and played laser tag, one time you even danced with Ambrose at some weird exercise class Rollins had signed all of you up for. There was always a competition between Roman and Seth, both men striving to one-up and improve each other. It led to some entertaining moments, like the both of them grappling at the top of a rock-climbing wall while Dean hollered just kiss already!

You learned slowly along the way how to interact with other people. You were pretty sure your professor jumped out of his skin when you started raising your hand in class, and your classmates looked at you like you had fourteen heads. It was incredibly satisfying to find out that you could engage with other people the way Dean, Seth and Roman engaged with you. Of course, this also led to much more awkwardness than you would prefer. You hadn’t realized that speaking up in class would put you on the proverbial map.

“Can I sit here?” The young man asking didn't wait for your stammered reply before making himself comfortable at your table in the library. “Now, I've seen you around and I never really caught your name. You're kinda' cute, so I'd appreciate it if you rectified that.”

You shook your head, confused at how rude he was being.

He grunted, seeming a bit startled. “Well, my name is-”

“Irrelevant.” Came the growl from Dean behind you. “Your name is irrelevant.”

“Hey, what's with the posse? Everyone's dying to know.” The young man changed tactics, unwisely glossing over Ambrose's interruption. “I mean, we all figured you must be mute or some shit and that these clowns were-”

Seth hoisted him up by the back of his hoodie and unceremoniously dumped him out of the chair, settling into the seat with his coffee still intact. “Heya' gorgeous, miss me?” He asked, winking at you while you flushed bright red. “Reigns is coming, he had to find the good Subway. The one that doesn't skimp on their meat, y'know.” Rollins was the picture of insolence. Sometimes you wondered if he cultivated the image or if it came naturally to him. “For our date tonight, the boys and I were thinking a movie? Although this super cool trampoline place just opened up across town, so if you're up for it..”

Rollins words faded into background static to you.

Date.

Our date tonight.

Oh my God.

“Hey, you in there?” Dean's hand waved in front of your eyes and you snapped back into focus.

“Yes! Sorry, I just...sorry.” You mumbled.

“If that guy upset you we can go get him to apologize.” Ambrose’s tone had darkened and you quickly took his hand.

“No no! C’mon, you guys are professionals. You can’t just go around strong-arming random people.” You reasoned, “Might look a little weird, you know?”

“Fine. He gets off with a warning this time.” Seth grumbled, reaching across the table to fist bump Dean. “Next time though. Oh, next time.”

A movie was voted on once Roman returned from getting his lunch, the three of them chatting in hushed tones while you toyed with the book in front of you.

Our date. Is that what had been happening this whole time? You were so confused. Weren’t you just their detail? Why would they bring me along on their off time though?

Our date.

…

The movie had been enjoyable. You couldn’t actually remember what it was about for the life of you, though.

Seth’s hand had stayed on your thigh for most of it, his leg tucked up against your own. As if that wasn’t distracting enough, Roman had wrapped an arm around your shoulders. Then, Ambrose (who had camped out in the row behind you) put his hand on the back of your neck over Roman’s arm and massaged the area absently.

Some part of you wondered whether this was appropriate behavior but a much louder part of you clamored for the attention. You were more than flustered by the time the credits rolled, bolting to your feet. “I…bathroom!” You stammered, quickly stepping over Roman’s legs and almost falling down the steps to the exit of the theater.

“Wait!” Seth called, but you didn’t bother stopping to see whether they were following you. Checking the signs to look for a bathroom, you hurried along as fast as you could.

Upon reaching the relative quiet of the restroom, you tried to collect yourself. Your face was all red, your body shaking a little while you patted at your flushed skin with a damp paper towel. What’s wrong with me? You stared at your reflection critically in the mirror, holding the edge of the sink tightly. Deep breaths surged in and our of your lungs as you did your best to calm your racing pulse, tried to get your knees to stop trembling.

Understanding suddenly hit you like a bolt of lightning, your eyes widening. You could barely believe your own thoughts. The three of them?! Your heart leaped in your chest. The three of them. You stood stock-still for a minute and then nodded at yourself, scowling fiercely. The three of them.

You tossed the paper towel away, tried your damnedest to straighten your clothes out a bit and then opened the door to confront your security. Your friends. Your--

The young man from the library earlier was leaned against the opposite wall, his expression decidedly smug. “I thought I saw you. Where’s your groupies?” He asked, glancing around. You cursed your own stupidity as he pushed himself off the wall and loped towards you.

“They’re…they’re going to be here any second.” But you couldn’t even convince yourself, never mind this oversized creep.

The young man nodded, pursing his lips. “Guess that means I’ve got a time limit. S’okay.” His fists pressed to the wall on either side of your head, his large form looming over yours. You wanted to punch him in the jaw (eight pounds of pressure per square inch) but fear snapped like an iron band around your chest, squeezing off your breath. “What, you too stuck up to talk to me? All I wanna’ know is your name.” He complained, sounding irritated. His hands shifted to your shoulders and you flinched without meaning to, hating the way he smiled at your obvious terror.

This is why people need to be kept at arm’s length.

You weren’t exactly sure what happened next. One second the guy was towering over you, smirking. You dimly heard the thunder of footsteps that he didn’t seem to notice. You wanted to close your eyes as the guy leaned in but then there was this blur of motion that launched shoulder-first into the young man’s side and flattened him.

“You do not touch them!” Roman shouted once he got back to his feet, his chest heaving. “Only we can touch them!” His words were laden with an irrational fury, a blinding outrage that you wished you could borrow to keep your body from shaking.

Only we can touch them.

Yes, your traitorous mind begged, a thousand times yes!

“Gorgeous, you with us?” Dean asked, seeming frantic as he pressed his forehead to your own. “Sorry we’re late.” He apologized. Rollins wrapped you in a tight hug and you shivered against his chest, overwhelmed. “There’s restrooms left and right, guess we picked the wrong direction first.”

“What did he do?” Rollins questioned, his voice level.

“I just…I didn’t want to be touched.” You whispered. “That’s all. I didn’t want to be touched. I’m okay.” The words didn’t seem to be able to keep from repeating and you mumbled them under your breath. Didn’t want to be touched. Didn’t want to be touched.

“Are you sure?” Ambrose’s hands smoothed over your shoulders and you made a little sound of distress. “Roman, get over here.” He ordered, making Roman look up from his staring contest with the young man on the ground. “We need to leave.”

“But I was-”

“No, Reigns. We need to go home.” Dean was demanding at this point. “Now.”

Roman frowned, but slowly returned to your side. “Can you move?” The question caught you off guard and you nodded. “Okay. Can you walk?” That one was a bit harder to answer. You tried taking a step and your foot instantly dragged on the rug. You fumbled to grab Seth’s shoulder again.

“What’s wrong with me?” You asked, your own voice sounding distant and tinny to your ears. A hand gently caught your chin and tilted it back up. You had been drifting downward without realizing it. Everything was so heavy all of a sudden. Didn’t want to be touched. Didn’t want to be touched.

“He’s not gonna’ touch you ever again.” Roman snarled. You must have said it out loud again instead of thinking it.

“Just us.” It was Rollins this time who easily picked you up in his arms, obviously hell-bent on ignoring the looks from the other patrons that you were sure you were getting. “Only us.” He kissed your forehead. “Only us.”

You hid your face in his neck, closing your eyes and trying to even out your breathing. I’m safe. Didn’t want to be touched. I’m safe now. It’s okay. Only them. It’s okay if it’s them. Your fingers twisted desperately into Seth’s shirt and he cleared his throat when you mouthed clumsily over the skin of his neck.

“Hey, whatcha’ doing?” Seth’s voice had a strange rasp to it that made hope surge in your belly. “I uh…oh.” He paused. “Oh.”

“Only us.” Ambrose seemed to understand what was going on, detaching your fingers from Seth’s shirt so he could kiss your hand. “Only us.”

“Yes.” You whimpered.

There was a breathless noise from Roman, a short mutter of, “Fuck, us?”

“Keep you safe no matter what.” Seth gasped as you crooned into his neck. “With or without this, you know that.”

“I know.” You breathed. “Thank you.”

Ambrose unlocked the car and Seth carefully sat you in the middle of the backseat, waiting until you had your seat belt on before getting in beside you. His mouth was on yours abruptly, facial hair rubbing your skin in a way that you had never experienced before. Roman got in on the other side, beginning to press kisses to your neck and jaw. You keened softly, stroking your fingers through Seth’s hair as Roman’s mouth laced a hot trail down your throat to your shoulder.

“Seatbelts.” Ambrose sounded a little dazed. “Damn, that is a pretty sight.”

You blushed and Seth groaned into your mouth. “Jesus Christ you are so fucking cute when you do that.”

“It’s sexy as hell. You’ve got no right.” Roman agreed, tugging the neck of your shirt a little further out of his way. “The way you get all flustered over Seth, the way you nudge your nose into my chest when you want some attention, the way you beg Ambrose to rub your neck. You’re…fuck, you’re adorable.”

“I do not beg!” You protested.

Dean’s chuckle was low, like a rumble of satisfaction. “You might not notice it. You might not purposely do it. Maybe.” He allowed, smirking at you in the rearview mirror. “But you definitely do it.”

“Hey, I don’t blame you. He’s got great hands.” Roman winked at Dean. “Big asset in our trio.”

You wondered about that for a second, especially when Dean’s smirk turned into a full-blown grin. “I mean, I don’t wanna’ brag or nothin’.”

Seth was enthusiasm personified, while Roman was more methodical. Between the two of them you were an absolute mess by the time Ambrose pulled into the driveway, your body quivering with a need you had never put a name to.

Your bed always seemed so huge when it was just you. But with three other men on it, suddenly there was barely enough room. You arched up against Seth, whining into his mouth when he slipped a hand beneath your skirt. “Fucking Christ, your noises, I just-” He stopped dead and you were scared you’d done something wrong. Maybe being this eager was a mistake? “Fuck.” Seth said finally. “Ambrose?”

“S’up?”

“Fingers. You’re better at this. They’re…” Seth trailed off, inhaling and dragging a hand through his hair.

“Oh.” Dean tugged Seth’s belt, moving him to one side.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, concerned now. “What is it?” You asked, wishing you could keep the tremor out of your voice.

“Nothin’, gorgeous, absolutely nothin’. It’s just a preference.” Dean explained, “Rollins has a hard time with keepin’ himself under control if it’s delicate work and…I mean I’m making a bold assumption here, but I’m guessing you haven’t exactly had a lot of stuff happen in your pants. He can be a little…gangbusters.”

You felt like your face must be neon red. Roman laughed at your expression, humming into your mouth as you kissed him. “Ambrose will be good to you.” He assured when you pulled away for breath. “He knows what he’s doing.”

“Christ, that barely matters, they’re fuckin’ soaked through their panties.” Ambrose clapped a hand to the side of your thigh, pushing your skirt up out of his way. “You are just dripping, Jesus. Can I taste? Wanna’ taste.” He asked, his smile dimpling his cheeks. “Wanna’ lick you, touch you. Make you come.”

“B-But I'm...what if you don't like how I taste?” You fretted.

Roman fairly roared with laughter, like you had just told the funniest joke in the world. “Ambrose-” He wheezed, smacking the other man on the shoulder.

Dean snickered into the skin of your thigh, dragging your panties down and slingshotting them absently across the room. “Not a chance in hell.” He said firmly.

Rollins moaned at Dean’s words, his jeans doing nothing to hide his arousal. Bravely you reached out to Seth, your fingers sliding his shirt up so you could touch his side. “When you held my thigh,” You began carefully. “Did you want to do something more than that?”

Seth jerked his head down to look at you. “I…” He licked his lips nervously. “I um. If you wanted it, y-yeah.” He admitted. “I like touching you.”

“And when you put your arm around me?” You looked up at Roman.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to not kiss you? We're professionals but you sure as hell didn't make anything easy for us.” Roman reached over you to boldly fondle Seth through his jeans, making the other man squirm and bite his lip. “Any idea how many times we all had to have a good long talk with one another about you? About the fact that we are human, yeah, but we're not assholes.” Reigns shrugged, taking your hand and bringing it to cup Seth's prominent bulge. “Your safety is the number one priority here.” He continued, like Seth wasn't panting breathy little sobs while Roman guided your hand back and forth.

Ambrose's tongue on your clit was like a jolt of electricity, no one had ever-! You cried out, startled at the intensity of the sensation. Ambrose hummed against you, the sound rolling through your body. One finger gently teased over your entrance, almost like how you would do it yourself when you were alone.

“Gorgeous.” Seth murmured.

“You're tight as fuck.” Ambrose pulled back to say, his finger slipping into you. His chin was glistening with your arousal and you didn't know how you managed it but you flushed redder than before. “Oh, and you taste fine.” He added nonchalantly before adding a second finger.

Roman ran his hand through Dean's hair and started urging you on. “You fuck his fingers, got it gorgeous? Fuck his fingers and soak his tongue, that's what he loves.” Dean moaned against you and you gasped, rolling your hips up. “That's it, look at you fucking tremble, God. Move those hips, fuck him good.” Dean curled his fingers up inside of you, nudging your clit with his nose and that was all it took for you to come. You cried out again and writhed underneath Dean's attentive ministrations, feeling more than hearing Seth's groan of approval as you panted for breath.

“You want Seth, yeah?” Roman was asking you a question, waiting until you nodded dazedly before smiling down at you. “God, you're perfect. We don't hand him off to just anyone, y'know.”

“Very picky.” Dean mumbled, settling back on his haunches and almost falling off the bed when Roman kissed him hard. “Tastes great, yeah?” He managed to get out in between Roman enthusiastically delving his tongue into his mouth. “M' rock hard just from that, fuck, Reigns.” He sighed.

“Can I? I know Roman already asked, but I want to make sure.” Seth kissed your forehead before you could say anything and you felt your insides melt to pool in your stomach.

“Yes, please, please.” You begged, shifting your hips eagerly.

Ambrose reached over without looking and easily pulled Seth's zipper down, snickering at the noise that escaped Rollins. “You gonna' fuck that cock, like you fucked my fingers? He's a little thicker than my fingers.” Dean teased, “Probably gonna' have a hard time getting that cock out of those tight pants of his. He still wears 'em though. He likes tormenting us.”

“And fuck, is it torment.” Roman groaned as Dean slid a hand into his basketball shorts. “Fucking Ambrose, Jesus.”

Rollins shoved his jeans down as far as he could before they bunched up and then hooked your knees over his shoulders. “I'm gonna' go slow. Not going to hurt you, okay? You're safe with us.” He promised, pressing his forehead to yours and staring into your eyes. “Safe.”

“Okay.” You murmured, looping your arms around his neck. Somehow, somehow, you knew none of them would lie to you. When Seth's pelvis shifted forward Roman was suddenly there, his mouth on yours and his hands tangled in your hair.

“Shh, go slow Seth.” The large man breathed, like he was calming a skittish animal. “Gentle.”

Seth nodded and you dug your fingers into his back, feeling the tense muscle ripple under your touch. “Won't hurt you.” He said through clenched teeth.

“I know.” You gasped and Seth dropped his head to rest on your shoulder. “Always keeping me safe.” You stroked his hair and Rollins began to thrust in earnest, causing your slick to dribble out down your thighs. “So good to me.” You sighed.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck.” Seth grunted. “Can't say that.”

“He likes being good.” Dean supplied helpfully, dragging Seth's head back up so he could lap at the younger man's neck.

“You like that? When you're good to me?” You asked, keening when Seth sped up even further. Something about him pounding into you while Ambrose mouthed and toyed with him coiled in your belly, Roman helping you along by whispering things in your ear. Things like so good, things like come for me. You weren't sure whether he meant them for you or for Seth but either way you could feel a second orgasm threatening to crest. “Seth-!”

“I know, I can feel you.” Seth choked out as you came, his body going so still over you. “Fuck, yes, Christ.” He gasped, closing his eyes and hanging his head.

“I got it from here, gorgeous.” Dean grinned, essentially passing you off to Roman after Seth pulled out of you with a low groan. Roman cradled you to his chest, soothing your body back down to a gentle hum after the exertion of moments earlier. You were vaguely aware that Dean was jerking Seth off to finish him, that gravelly voice saying absolutely filthy things that got Seth to beg so nicely for more.

“You did so good.” Reigns praised, smiling fondly when you ducked your face shyly into his shirt. “Incredible.”

“So tired.” You mumbled, your insides tensing at random as aftershocks raced through your core.

“You're all set for the night, gorgeous. You rest now.” Roman kissed your forehead. “You're safe. Nothing can happen to you while we're here.” You snuggled into his large form, exhaustion lulling you to sleep.

You're safe here with us.

You're ours. Only ours.

Safe with us.

A bearded set of lips pressed to your ear. Seth's voice sounded thrashed in the best way possible. “Sleep good, gorgeous.”

Part Two

#seth rollins #roman reigns #dean ambrose #seth rollins/roman reigns/dean ambrose/reader #thirst party saturday #the shield #Bodyguard!AU #so much fluffy bullshit #i love it #hurt/comfort #the shield smut #the shield/reader