#this one is hot ass guy by Tox

[kotikaleo]

Noone expected this to happen, even me, but I am back at rain world fandom! Which is @amenalyme 's fault! And also @toxictoxicities 's fault. You are both really happy about it, I know 👀

So I drew a bunch or silly robot men and a sad slug mother

i might do more sketches when I have free time, but time to get back to work

#my art #my messy sketches #Emergence au #Emergence #rain world #Seven Red Suns #No Significant Harassment #Night on Five Warm Drops #he is my baby boiiiii! #He is my lil baby!!! #He is traumatized! #wait you probably already seen him actually #A Plausible Link #this one is hot ass guy by Tox #Like LOOK AT HIM #His design is JSCNPIJSDNCPOIENCOINAEDPICJNASIPNC #I love this au so much you don't even know

[mothers-little-pistols]

Incorrect Quote Dump (1/?)

Warning, this post is so fucking long.

Thrill, writing in his diary: February twenty-eighth, 2020. Today I watched a crewmate fall and eat shit.

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Widow: GO TO BED! Kit: NO! Widow: JUST GO TO BED! IT'S TWO AM AND YOU CAN'T BE AWAKE THIS LATE IN THE ZONES! Kit: WATCH ME!

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Ghoul: So you all fucked up pretty badly. Good luck finding new tires for this thing. Kit: *scoff* I think the ones we have are fine for at least another fourty miles. Ghoul: *pointing to the blown-out tires that have all but shredded off the rims* You fucking fubar'd the tires on this and you think it can go for another fourty miles!? Toxin: *cackles* Kit: You both shut up.

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Jet: Wait a minute. Jet: Share...skill... Jet: *inhales* AA-

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Poison: So what exactly do you and your little band of assholes do? Kit: *looking at the chaos that is the Pistols* Tss...ooh...hard question...auh...?

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*after they find the Zone Four motel* Kit: *enjoying a cold shower for the first time in a while* Poison: *opens the door and walks in* Kit: Who the fuck's there? Poison: It's me, I have to piss. Kit: Ok, you do that. Try anything and I'll shoot you though. Poison: Whatever. *silence* Kit: Flush that toilet and I'll shoot you. *silence* *toilet flushes* Kit: *is sprayed with boiling hot water* POISON-

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Thrill: I am your God now! Bring me your virgins! Ghoul: What virgins? We're all sluts here. Jet: Who's 'we'? Ghoul: *points at Poison* Poison: Hey!

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Kobra: So what are we doing out here exactly? Poison: Kit wanted us to find something called the... Poison: *takes off glove and looks at smudged writing on hand* Poison: ‘ Hellements of Armony’.

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Toxin: *scurrying through The Zones* Squeedly-dee, stay out of the desert!

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Widow: So, ok, I go over to Poison's room. Here I was expecting their PC to have burned down because of all the decomposing moth carcasses in their CPU fan. But no. I was not that lucky.

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Kit: *drunk and draping herself into Kobra's arms* Oh doctor! What's the diagnosis? Kobra: *sighing and playing along* You're horny for Poison... Kit: Oh my! Horny for Poison, you say? Well, do you have a cure? Kobra: *dropping her and walking away* Yeah, leaving me the fuck out of this.

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Poison: *obviously drunk* BATTERY CITY! CAN SUCK! MY! D- Kobra: *slaps his hand over their mouth* And that's enough tequila for you. Poison: *muffled* LET ME SPEAK!

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Widow: Thots on Val Velocity? Poison: So Val has thots now. Kit: Crawling all over him like weevils. Jet: I think they're the Ultra Vs, actually.

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Widow: Why don't you listen to Cherri Cola's Poetry Corner and maybe you'll calm down.

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Poison: *is fucking dead* Thrill: Thrill: Wake up, piss boy.

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Toxin: Are you fucking stupid? Kit: How long have you been friends with me? Toxin: Three years? Kit: Am I stupid, Tox? Toxin: Maybe a little bit. Kit: It's ok, you can call me an idiot. Toxin: Yeah, you're a fucking dumbass.

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Widow: *after settling an argument* Court dismissed, bring in the dancing lobsters.

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Poison: Hold on. Poison: *leaves the motel and stands outside* Poison: *SCREAMS* Kit: Kit: I'm fucking that.

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Poison: FOR THE LAST TIME! Poison: STOP CALLING ME 'PISS JACKET'! Ghoul: IT SMELLS LIKE PISS! Poison: IT'S COLOGNE! Jet: Are you sure though? Poison: Ghoul: Jet: Poison: Fuck yourself.

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Kobra: Hey, Poison, check this out. Poison: *fiddling with their raygun* Hang on, I'm busy. Kobra: Hey, look at me. Poison: Give me a second. Kobra: I'm more important, give me attention. Poison: I said give me a God damn second. Kobra: I'm getting very upset. Poison: I don't give a fuck how upset you are. I said give me a second. Poison: *puts their raygun down* Hello, what is it? Kobra: *points to his helmet upside down on top of his head* I can balance a helmet on my head.

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Poison: *standing in Kit's doorway* I'm sad, can I lay on your floor for a sec?

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Jet: *standing outside* Don't you come in this room, Korse, I will dust your ass.

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Thrill: Party Piss Jacket Peepee Pants Penishead Poison, will you please come here? Poison: *>:(*

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Widow: Can I ask you something? Kit: What's good? Widow: Why are you such a whore? Kit: Drive sidestreet and get dusted.

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Kit: *yelling into the other room* Jet! Jet Star! Jet: *doesn't respond*  Kit: Destroya damnit. Thrill: JETTY! Jet: *looks up* What? Kit: You wanna get food? Jet: Huh? Kit: Do you wanna obtain edible substances? Jet: What? Thrill: YOU WANT FOOD!? Jet: Oh, yeah, I do! Kit: Then come outside, there's an angel cake in the next Zone over! Jet: Make me. Thrill: SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET FOOD! Jet: Alright.

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Thrill: *flipping Kit off with both hands* Kit: Thanks, Thrill! *:D* Thrill: Fuck you! *:D*

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Ghoul: They broke it, they blew up the school, they own a trenchcoat, they have a gun- Poison: This started about Diamond accidentally stepping on my headphones.

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Kobra: I overheard Poison yelling at Toxin about banana bread and something about 'I've made a shitload of banana bread, don't you dare put that much sugar in it, it'll be grainy as shit-' Thrill: I think we should regulate humans...with guns...

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Toxin: Skibidefuck!

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Kobra: *takes off his helmet* Toxin: He looks like a baby. He looks like a literal infant. I wanna caress his cheek and put him in a crib and sing him lullabies. FF and MLP: Toxin, what the f u c k?

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Kobra: No one here is gonna make fun of you. Except he might. Ghoul: Yeah, I might.

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Pony: *tries to create a sense of calm by lighting incense only to discover that the sticks were sparklers* Widow: That's painfully on-brand, actually.

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The Girl: *whispering into walkie talkie* Poison, the Pistols are drinking beer, I need you to come pick me up-

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Ghoul: Hey Poison, do you think I can get this egg into that jar without it cracking? Poison: No. Ghoul: *throws it at Kobra* Guess you were right.

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Toxin: Dude, I thought you could do a kickflip. Ghoul: I can! I can! I did one this morning!

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Val: Hey Vaya, do you have any gum? Vaya: *spits their gum out at him* Val: *blinks* Ok then- Vamos, do you have any gum? Vamos: *spits their gum out at him*

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Kit: *walking into Ghoul's room* Hey Toxin, Ghoul- Oh, you guys are doing dress rehearsal. Shiny. Auh, I'm gonna go to Tommy Chow Mein's shop real quick, you guys need anything? Hair dye, Power Pup?

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Widow: *holding up a jack-o-lantern* I made a goblin, what'd you guys make? Toxin: *holding her pumpkin turned into a bong* I made a kick-ass bong. Widow: ...creative! Diamond: *cutting a hole in theirs* I'm gonna fuck this pumpkin.

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Ghoul: *looking through a telescope* I love this Zone! Widow and Kit: *play wrestling in the dirt* Poison: Lemme see- *looks through telescope in the other direction* Kobra and Toxin: *fucking on the hood of the M240* Poison: Gorgeous.

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Diamond: *has been staring at the same ray gun for the past thirty minutes* Tommy Chow Mein: Buy something or fuck off.

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Val: Hey guys. Good alternative recycling; when you're done with a glass bottle, eat it. Fucking eat the bottle.

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Kobra: *reading sign outside the shower* No shoes, no shirt, no pants, no socks, no underwear. Kobra: Ok, I think I'm good. *gets in*

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Widow: Look at the buns on that guy. Jet: *laying on the ground covered in burger buns* Korse: This is the comedy police, the joke's too funny! Widow: *holding her ray gun* I'M NOT GOING BACK TO THE ICEBOX-

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Jet: *while he's in tears* It's a mental break down... Jet: *plays kazoo to the tune of Final Countdown*

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Dr. Death Defying: What'cha doing on the roof, Tommy? Tommy Chow Mein: *on the roof of his shop* I lost a frisbee. Dr. Death Defying: Are you smoking battery acid up there? Tommy Chow Mein: ...yeah.

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Pony: Keep drinking, Val, don't be boring! God! Pony: *to Diamond* I want him to fucking pass out so someone finally notices me.

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Poison: *wearing the Mousekat head while they’re standing in the empty hotel pool* Thrill: What the fuck? There's a furry in the pool. Poison: *raises their ray gun* Thrill: AA-

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Ghoul: *sliding into the trans-AM* What's up, pussy? Poison: How do you know what I ate yesterday? Ghoul: Poison: Ghoul: Yeah, you right. Poison: *starts the car* Mhm.

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Poison: *driving* Diamond: *in the backseat* POISON! Poison: Yep-? Yeah-?? Diamond: *pointing out the back window* LOOK! *there's a car full of Draculoids on their tail* Poison: OH! OH FUCK! floors it NO, NO, NO, NO! NO-

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Val: *lays on the floor* Ooh, I'm exhausted. Thrill: Yeah, you're really sweaty. Val: You should've seen the other guy- Girl- Your mom- What? Thrill: What? Val: What?

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Dr. Death Defying: *coming in at three AM over the radio* Stop it. Get some help.

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Jet: I'm gonna tell you what I don't do. I don't know shit, I don't get stuff, and I don't understand things.

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Thrill: So you'll do it? Kit: Yeah, man, I'll dust him. Thrill: For how much? Kit: How about thirty? Thrill: Thirty thousand carbons? Kit: *spits out drink*

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Widow: Can you sing the song? Dr. Death Defying: *singing* Shut the fuck and go to sleep- Widow: Thanks *:>*

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Toxin: *wielding a water gun* Put the carbons in the bag, right now- Tommy Chow Mein: That's a water gun. Toxin: *throws it at him* Tommy Chow Mein: Ow! Fine, asshole, just take it-

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Val: *walking out of the V's hideout* Last one out is a stupid idiot! The V's: *have been standing outside for the past hour*

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*before they got with the Pistols* Tommy Chow Mein: *over the loudspeaker* Would the owner of the lime green Honda please come to the front desk. Diamond: *walking over* Are my lights on? Tommy Chow Mein: No, I just wanted to see what you looked like. Your car's fucking ugly.

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Poison: You ready for the best night ever? Widow: You mean sleepy time tea and a good night's sleep? Poison: ...we're going to a Mad Gear concert. Widow: ...I already made the tea.

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Dr. Death Defying: *over the loudspeaker* Attention shoppers, our store closes in ten fucking minutes. Get your shit and let's fucking go. Tommy Chow Mein: *distantly* Hey, you don't fucking work here-

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Diamond: Pony is so annoying. Pony: *outside the window of their room* I heard you were talking shit about me- Diamond: WE ARE ON THE THIRD FLOOR-

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Toxin: 'Tommy Chow Mein' is short for 'Thomas Chowder Mainstreet'. Tommy Chow Mein: Get the fuck out.

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Diamond: *a sand pup* What up? I'm Diamond, I'm nineteen, and I never fuckin' learned how to read.

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Ghoul: *looms over Diamond* Diamond: *looks up from writing in a notebook* Ghoul: Diamond: Ghoul: Diamond: Diamond: I'm writing porn, what the fuck do you want? Ghoul: *loses it and fucks off*

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*at dinner* Jet: Short-ass. Poison: Cuck. Jet: Fuck you. Poison: No, fuck you. Jet: Eat shit and live. Poison: You look like you bite deodorant sticks. Jet: *holds up bowl* I will cut your hair to look like this. Poison: GHOUL, HE THREATENED ME-

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Val: *wild cackling* I GOT ANOTHER HEADSHOT! *cackling continues*

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Toxin: Oh Destroya. You don't think- Ghoul: By the way it's looking, Tox, I'd say Val's a dirty... Toxin: Oh Destroya- Ghoul: Collectivizing... Toxin: No- Ghoul: Gemini. Toxin: GEMINI! GEMINI! Ghoul: Yeah, go get him, Toxin! Toxin: REEEE- *runs in Val's direction* *screaming*

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Toxin: *holding her pet possum* Yeah, and spray him down with that shit in the bottle there. Kobra: *reading the label* For fleas and ticks, huh? Ghoul: *starts laughing in the distance* I'm sorry, for a sec I thought you said 'fleas and piss'! *laughter continues*  Thrill: We could get some of that for Poison then! *laughs* Toxin: *quietly* Party 'Piss Jacket' Poison.

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Diamond: *walking down to the kitchen* Fuck it, I'm hungry enough that I'll eat the stale cereal. Jet: It's five AM, also that cereal is beyond fucking stale. Diamond: *disappearing into the kitchen* I'll probably hate myself afterwards but, eh, am hungy.

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Widow: Kit, I think your dress rehearsal partner is gonna slap me. Kit: ...I'm sorry? I can't really stop 'em. Poison: *raises hand* Widow: AA-

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Kobra: It's almost six in the morning. What the fuck? Jet: Hi, almost six in the morning. I'm dead. Kobra: *-_-* Kobra: *0_0*

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*in the Nest* Val: *sits down with a can of Power Pup* Toxin: You happy? Val: Mhm. Toxin: Good. Your happiness distracts from the fact that I poisoned that Power Pup. Val: Good. I don't like my foods unpoisoned.

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Vaya: *eating a piece of bread* This bread is, like, on the precipice of being stale. Vamos: That sucks. Vaya: Yeah. Vamos: I wouldn't be too happy. Vaya: Yeah, it's the worst snack I've had the misfortune of eating. Vamos: Then stop? Vaya: No, I hate myself and therefore I'm gonna finish it. Also Val would kick my ass if I wasted food. Val: *from the next room* I would! Vaya: See? Vamos: Fine, finish your fuckin' bread.

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Thrill: You- You've been- Been- You've been- You've been hit with a distraction spell. Thrill: *punches Val in the thigh* Val: OW, YOU FUCKER- Thrill: *gets up and runs*

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Val: *opens pack of fruit snacks with teeth* Poison: *intense stare* Val: ...what? Poison: *points at fruit snacks* Val: No. Mine. Poison: I will fucking dismember you, give them to me.

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Ghoul: I don't see how you can sleep with that fucking blanket. I tried to once and it was so fucking hot. It also weighs more than me, probably. Poison: *curled up in a blanket* It's not my fault you're cold-blooded. Ghoul: *hisses* Jet: What'd you say about the cold-blooded? Poison: I was talking about Ghoul. Jet: Ah. Ghoul: Yeah, Jetty, you're friends with a reptilian. Kobra: *quietly* You're not Leafy. *the other three lose it*

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Poison: *slaps Kit's ass* Night! Poison: *goes to their room*

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Kobra: *walking up to his room* Widow: Why is it that whenever he walks on stairs, it sounds like the stairs are trying to eat him? Kobra: *turns around and squints*

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Diamond: Eugh, this off-brand ramen tastes like ass. Widow: Yeah, it really does. Diamond: If it's not Better Living brand, it's not ramen. Widow: That's what I told Thrill. Of course, I was ignored. Kit: Thrill has small pea brain.

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Val: Fight me. Ghoul: No. Val: Fight me. Ghoul: Diamond already tried to fight me in the kitchen, I don't wanna fight anybody else. Val: Beat my ass. Ghoul: I cannot. Val: Why? Ghoul: Ghoul: I'm small.

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Toxin: Hey, I said Kobra was cute, I didn't say he was smart. Kit: That...applies to me... Kit: Why does that apply to me??

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Toxin: *licks Kobra's cheek* Diamond: Don't lick that, you don't know where it's been! Kobra: *>:(*

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Poison: I'm too sober to be having this conversation! Toxin: No, we're having this conversation! What the fuck do you mean!?

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Val: I suck? I suck?? You died! You died! You just died and you’re saying I suck???

#blazing fire ;; party poison #ghostly lad ;; fun ghoul #sweet venom ;; kobra kid #neon nasa ;; jet star #fabulous four #little clementine ;; the girl #dramatically fabulous ;; show pony #shoplifter shooter ;; tommy chow mein #sup doc ;; dr. death defying #foxy sharpshooter ;; gun kit #spidery darlin' ;; widow bite #battery acid ;; toxin dealer #zapped carbon ;; electric diamond #heartthrob flatline ;; thrill killer #mother's little pistols #fucking rat ;; val velocity #hashtag twinning ;; vaya and vamos #kitpoison (gun kit/party poison) #kobratoxin (kobra kid/toxin dealer) #ghoultoxin (fun ghoul/toxin dealer) #tlotfk au #incorrect tlotfk au #incorrect danger days quotes #incorrect killjoy quotes #incorrect tlotfk quotes #incorrect killjoys #incorrect danger days #incorrect tlotfk #radio frequency #// there are probably more tags that i should add to this but i'm tired

[aweebwrites]

A Mistake

“Why do I have to switch him out?” Griffin mumbled to himself as he waited impatiently for the big cat to fall asleep from the tranq he received.

“Because Karlof is out sick and Neuro told you to.” Tox reminded him, her tranquilizer gun at her side. “That and you’re the fastest one here. You can outrun him if he decides to take a bite out of you.” She grinned and Griffin looked at her insulted.

“Relax. This guy is pretty tame.” Tox says, seeing the snow leopard begin to waver on his feet. “Zane isn’t prone to violence. Now if it were Cole or heaven forbid Kai, then you’d have your work cut out for you. He’s down now. Just get in, put him on the moving crate, strap him down, get him to the other habitat so we can do maintenance on the air conditioning on his unit and bring him back after. That���s all.” She says, patting his shoulder before walking off.

“Not even a helping hand yo?” Griffin asked and Tox scoffed.

“I’m a doctor, not an animal mover.” Tox told him with a grin, chuckling as she went on her merry way.

“The abandonment yo.” Griffin says, placing his hand over his chest before peering into the freezing cold habitat.

There lay the disoriented snow leopard the Elemental Alliance Wildlife Rehabilitation Center was alarmed but thankful to receive and care for. Snow leopards were endangered after all but this kind of snow leopard was even more endangered. Almost nonexistent. Griffin sighed once he noticed the leopard’s eyes finally closed. He gave himself a light mental pep talk before opening the doors with the carrying crate, shivering immediately at just how cold this place was. He wheeled it over to the out cold creature then knelt to take a better look at him, despite his mind screaming this was a bad idea. He was one of a huge population of human beings to take on animal characteristics hundreds of years back after some phenomenon blah, blah, blah. When Neuro started getting into his science-y talk, he starts zoning out. He had a lot of human features though. White hair with sparse black spots to match his white and black spotted fur that covered most of his body, his ears that stuck out through his hair on the top of his head that were definitely leopard-like, his odd legs that were crossed between a human and a leopard’s that allowed him to walk on all fours and twos, his ridiculously long but quite fluffy tail, his white, retractable claws on his padded half human hands… Griffin was curious now. He hesitates, catching a glimpse of his fangs from his mostly closed mouth. He went for it, opening his human shaped mouth careful not to block his pink tipped nose as he looked inside. Wow teeth. Sharp, pointy teeth. Those canines are something else! These guys are actually pretty cool! He startles back, landing on his ass once Zane gave a sudden huff. Griffin looked at him with eyes wide and heart pounding before he relaxed, seeing that he hasn’t woken up.

Fuck that would have been bad. While Zane is pretty tame from what he’s seen in passing, he can still be riled up and he is fucking scary mad. He got to his feet again, deciding to stop messing around. Any more of this cold and he’ll start getting frostbite too. He slipped his arms under the limp body of the demi human then lifted, his eyes bulging on just how heavy this guy is. Well, considering that he is bigger than him, he shouldn’t be surprised. He hoisted him up with a grunt then crab walked over to the crate and carefully set him down, panting heavily once he did. Holy shit. Maybe they should cut him back on the mutton, yeah? He strapped him tightly but not enough to damage their most prized animal. Zane was a special case. He wasn’t a catch and release kind of patient.

He was a ‘keep away from the other demi human snow leopards because he hated socializing and will attack pushy females in heat’ kind of case. And given that there are only 2 entire wildlife preservation and rehabilitation centers for demi humans in the entire world, they got to keep him, what with their location in the temperate zone to the south where there was a major snow covered mountain range that ran into the Elemental Alliance’s Wildlife Preservation area as well. He was just being kept in the rehabilitation area to help him adjust to different plants and animals here. That and they aren’t sure on how well he’d survive out there on his own as the only one of his kind. They wanted him to make friends but they had no clue where to begin as they had no other demi human that are situated to cold temperatures like he is yet.

Griffin carried him out- then found himself at a loss. Where was he supposed to put him again?

“Fuck me.” Griffin groaned to the ceiling. “If I ask Neuro again, he’ll give me a lecture for sure yo.” He sighed, then considered the rehab center.

He was definitely sure that he was supposed to go into one of the habitats inside. But there were a fuck load of them on the inside.

“Griffin, my office.” Griffin jolted then, hearing Neuro over the intercom and he did not sound happy.

Griffin looked around quickly before perking up at the sight of spots through another viewing window in the large hall.

“They both have spots so they should get along, right?” Griffin reasoned then rushed over, beaming even more to see a dual way entry. He put in his code, going into the first set of doors then quickly unstrapping the snow leopard and opening the second door.

He heaved Zane in, leaving him to lay on the ground before the second door and quickly headed back out, hearing Neuro calling him again with even more impatience in his tone.

“Sit still for a while! I’ll be back! I promise!” Griffin told the unconscious demi human through the door then rushed off to Neuro’s office.

Here’s to hoping he didn’t find out about him giving the avian type demi humans extra snacks…

Meanwhile, golden orange eyes glowed from the thick brush of plants in the habitat before the creature possessing them walked out, curious to what was left in his area. He could have used the human as a means to escape but then he caught a glimpse of what he was carrying… He was intrigued. The jaguar demi human with a fresh scar over his left eye approached the limp figure at the door, tilting his head to the side as he inspected them. He leaned his head down and sniffed at him- only for his pupils to blow wide as his whiskers tingled at the unknown but very pleasant smell that filled his nose, but they weren’t moving. They must have put them to sleep. He nudged them over on their back and his breath caught at their pale, pretty face. He was the prettiest male he’s come across. White fur too… His spots are different that his though. And his tail is really long. Cole hesitates then reached out to touch it. Soft! He kneaded at it, seating himself to do so with both paw like hands. He didn’t know how long he sat there, batting around and kneading at his tail before a low sound came from him.

Cole looked to his face then blinked to find the spots where he had no fur all shiny. Sweat, he remembers. He rarely does that but when he does, it’s because he’s really hot. Cole blinked at that. He’s really hot! That wasn’t good! He almost blacked out the last times he sweat like that! He scooped him in his arms before carefully standing on his back paws and looked around quickly. His eyes zoned in on his artificial pond before he quickly trots over, walking in with the odd creature and sunk him in. The water was colder than he was used to out in the jungle but it was perfect in this case. It wasn’t very deep, about thigh high in the middle. He sat in the pond, lowering him with him, holding his head up and the rest of him under so he doesn’t float. He sat there in the pool of water that now reached his upper shoulders, wondering when was he going to wake up. A long time was the answer. Cole had sat there in the shallow pond until he had even started to drift off, the only thing waking him was his body just starting to float when his arms went lax.

What felt like an eternity later, a low groan caught his ears. He looked down at him as he scrunched his face up, blinking his eyes open slowly. Cole openly stared, awed by the intense blue of his eyes. They were blue like the sky and beautiful. He focused a bit more and Cole blinked once he found his hand on his face. He gave a curious sound, struggling to focus and Cole only gave a low growl, urging him to rest more since he was clearly out of it. Zane was confused as to why he felt wet or who the person holding him was but he was too disoriented to ignore the lull of sleep to escape the fuzzy mess of his mind. Cole sat there still, looking at him still. He was like nothing he’s never seen before… He wanted to see more…

__________

Zane woke up with a languid stretch, turning over to knead his pawed hands into the snow- only for him to have a face full of water. He jolted back, landing on his hands and feet as he coughed and sneezed from the water that rushed up in his mouth and nose. He blinked once he heard laughter immediately follow then looked up to see an… He blinked at the odd leopard before him. He wasn’t white… He had golden brown skin and yellow brown fur with black spots. He was much bigger than he was too. He was… Different to say the least. Zane tilted his head to the side, the tip his long tail flicking back and forth with his peaked interest. He padded over as the strange leopard continued to laugh, pushing off his hands once the water got too deep. Cole’s laughter stopped abruptly once he came face to face with those pretty blue eyes that were filled with curiosity. Cole remained still once he leaned in and scented him, not wanting to chase the strange creature away. Zane took a quick sniff close to his neck- before his eyes blew wide at the scent that filled his nose. It was something he hadn’t smelled often, living where he had all his life.

It was earthy like soil when rain fell on it. He… He liked it. He placed both hands on his shoulders, sniffing at him more before rubbing his head against him with a purr, rubbing his scent on himself. Cole’s pupils blew wide as he did, curious at the strange rumbly sound he was making but gladly rubbing against him too, his hands coming to his waist where he was half in his lap. Cole slid his tongue out, licking at his ear and Zane gasped, a spine tingling shiver running through him, down to the very tip of his tail. He purrs louder, melting against him as the other Leopard licked at his ears with his rough tongue, hand firm around his waist, his thick claws pressing lightly into his fur. Zane licked at his neck distractedly, his tail curling around his leg as the air got hot and heady… Hot… Zane pulled back though reluctantly, panting from the heat. He looked around, blinking at the jungle themed enclosure, a sight he’s never seen before. How did he get here? He thought back for a bit. He was taken to a strange place three days ago and then he was hit with another one of their weapons… And now he was here. He gave a low moan of distress, feeling as if he was melting. Cole tensed at the distressed scent and sound the pretty creature made before shifting forward, urging him to sink deeper into the water. Blue eyes looked at him confused but he complied and sunk deeper until just his nose up was out of the water. It felt good against his fur so he was more than happy to stay there. Cole got out, knowing ponds were quick to heat up the more warm bodied animals inside it. He instead sat at the water’s banks, his tail flickering anxiously as he watched the beautiful creature to make sure he wasn’t getting worse.

Meanwhile, Neuro had chewed Griffin out to the bone three hours ago for feeding the avians corn on the cob and warned him if he messed up again, he’d fire him, boyfriend or not. Tox, Shade and Ash laughed at the glum Griffin at their place in the cafeteria eating lunch as he pouted, knowing he’ll be on the couch for a week for this.

“This is a new level of stupidity, even for you Griff.” Ash chuckled, wiping away tears from his eyes.

“Shut up.” Griffin huffed, shooting him a glare.

“But for real.” Shade says more serious now. “They might be part human and have the capacity to digest most foods we can, but they’ll eventually be released into the wild where they won’t get butter covered corn on the cob. If they get addicted to that kind of food, they’ll be in big trouble in the wild. You better watch yourself or else I’ll personally kick your ass too.” He threatened.

“Believe me yo, I’ve learned my lesson.” Griffin says, wincing as he remembered how much Neuro had yelled at him until he had a headache immediately. “This reserve stuff is harder than I thought yo.” He sighs, knowing he really has to watch what he does from now on.

“You only need common sense Griffin.” Tox says dryly and he shot her a glare.

“Griffin!” Said man lifted his head, looking to where Chamille was walking towards him, looking perplexed.

“Cham? What’s-”

“Where’s Zane? He’s not in the empty tiger demi-human habitat.” Chamille asked, cutting him off and Griffin went pale quick.

“... Griffin. Tell me you didn’t lose the ultra rare, ultra endangered snow leopard demi human.” Ash says serious now, ready to bodily slam him if he did.

“Uh. No. I know where he is.” Griffin says and they relaxed some. “The problem is… Where he is…” He adds and they tensed all over again.

“Griffin. Griffin where the fuck did you put him?!” Shade asked with a growl, reaching across to grab him by the front of his shirt.

“In uh…” Griffin gulped. “In… Cole’s… Habitat…” He says sheepishly and there was a moment of silence before Griffin was tossed aside in favor of them all rushing off to the habitat, praying to whoever’s out there that Zane hadn’t passed due to overheating or worse, Cole, the aggressive, ready to be released Jaguar male hadn’t mauled him.

Ash got there first, peering in through the observation window. Immediately, he spotted the Jaguar gnawing on a bone then paled as his stomach dropped.

“Oh no.” Tox says, seeing the same scene.

“He actually ate him? But… I don’t see any blood…” Shade says looking around for any signs of it.

“Oh he’s alive. Thank fuck.” Griffin panted as he looked in and they looked at him puzzled. “There he is.” He pointed out the head in the pond Cole was gnawing his bone next to.

True to his word, there Zane was, lapping at the water he was in, most likely to keep cool. The group gave a collective sigh of relief.

“Alright. He’s alive and ok. But how do we get him from out there? Cole is passive to him but not so much us.” Shade pointed out.

“Yeah? Well I think the one who got him in there should be the one to take him out.” Tox says, throwing a glare at Griffin before heading off for her tranq gun.

“Tox is right. We’ll take Cole out first then Zane. You have to go in there before the sedatives fully set in though. Zane’s in the water. He’ll drown if we don’t at least keep his head above the surface.” Chamille says and Griffin scrubbed his face with both hands.

Fuck all.

Cole watched the other creature as he lapped at the water he was in, looking bored as he crouched there. He idly gnawed at the bone from his breakfast, feeling as bored as he looked. If he didn’t need to stay in the water, he would gladly groom is pretty fur and mark him all over with his scent so everyone knew he claimed him as his. He was also curious at what other new sounds he could get out of him. He tensed once a familiar sound caught his ear, just as a dart lodged into his thigh. He was immediately on all fours, looking towards the high platform where the green haired human had shot him from. He growled, thick fangs on display as he rushed over to where she was but she had already closed the reinforced window out of his reach. Zane watched him curiously as he showed aggression for the first time. He looked more primal, more terrifying. Here was a male in his prime, snarling defensively at where the human once was. It was…

A low purr had the water around him rippling steadily. Attractive. But he understood the humans were encroaching again and rose up out of the water the heat that hit him, especially with the sun reaching him through the trees of the outside enclosure, was almost too much. Cole’s huff has him focusing on him and he mewed, gesturing with his head for him to get back in. Zane frowned but does so, his tail swishing underwater anxiously. Cole walked around the pond, pacing the length of the bank between Zane and the humans watching them through the strange cave he would have long dug out if there wasn’t super strong shiny vines keeping him just out of its reach. He paced, throwing them an occasional snarl once they moved unexpectedly. He had a feeling in his gut that they wanted his creature but he had already claimed the beauty as his own and he wasn't going to give it up, their sleeping spell or not. He could feel the concoction trying to pull him under but he declined to go down. He won’t. He refused.

“He’s not going down.” Tox says with a frown, watching him as he kept stalking back and forth.

“Give him another shot.” Shade told her.

“His dosage was already high. I don’t want to overdose him.” Tox pointed out and Shade frowned as he considered this.

“We’ll need to get him down to get Zane out of there. Give him another half dosage.” He told her and she looked him over before nodding then heading towards the platform.

“What if he doesn’t go down?”Griffin asked them.

“Then Zane would eventually succumb to overheating. That pond isn’t enough to keep him cool for long.” Shade says with a frown.

Cole snarled as he saw her again up there again, getting on his hind legs so he could swipe deadly claws in her direction. She retaliated by hitting him with another dart, the small needle sticking in his arm. He swatted it away but it had already done its part. Moments later, Cole was stumbling, the world spinning around him. Zane gave a yowl of of distressing concern and Cole turned to him, only to immediately collapse just before the water, barely able to keep his eyes opened. He saw the moment Zane was also shot in his neck now exposed from where he was raising up out of the water. He weakly reached out to where the white blur of Zane was, seeing him moving through the water before him. Zane ignored the heat of being outside the pond and nuzzled the other leopard, giving a low mew of concern as he did, looking around warily. He then licked at Cole’s face and ears as he struggled not to drift off, surprising the team watching them.

“No way…” Ash says in awe, watching the two interact. “Do you think then… That he might have made friends with Zane?” He asked Chamille who was the specialist in demi human behaviors.

“It looks like it.” She says in awe. “That’s a feat on its own. Neither of them are social creatures. This proves that they both have the capacity to socialize.” Chamille says then smirked as she crossed her arms.

“They’re just fucking picky.” She huffed.

“Then do we have to send him back?” Ash asked, disappointed.

“Not without seeing how he interacts with others of his kind which isn’t going to happen soon and they’ve already scrubbed their hands of him.” Chamille says as Zane also began to stumble before laying down next to Cole, panting heavily as his eyes began to fall shut.

Zane gave a soft, pitiful mew, his paw on Cole’s who was losing the struggle to stay awake. Cole only managed a comforting grunt, watching as his beautiful creature’s eyes slowly shut. He heard as the door opened, heard the crate being rolled over. He managed a growl at the human with strange red eye coverings and he tensed but realised that he couldn’t move. Griffin looked down at them, at Zane’s hand on Cole’s, at how close they seemed in these past few hours. Friends, huh… He lifted Zane up, lifting him over to the crate and set him down heavily before strapping him in. With that, he gave Cole one more look, his heart clenching at the almost heart broken look he gave Zane before he succumbed to the trans shots. He feels as if he's committing a crime.

"Hurry up Griffin! He'll overheat!" Shade yelled and Griffin only nods, pushing Zane put and away from Cole.

Chamille on the other hand took the time to draw a blood sample, curious as to how he managed to hold up from that much tranq dosage for as long as he has.

_____

"Griffin." Neuro sighed as he rubbed his aching temple.

"Look, I really am sorry Oreo. I'm trying my best, honest I am." Griffin says, reaching across the desk to take his free hand. "I know I messed up- again but I'll do better. I’ll do things right. I swear!" He promises and Neuro looked at him with unimpressed gray eyes before he sighed again.

"The only reason you haven't been fired just now is because of the information we've gotten off of the incident. The hormone levels Cole had then was impressive. Chamille is still running tests.” Neuro says, interested on the results himself before fixing a glare at Griffin again. “Karlof will be back tomorrow and you’ll take on sanitary duties until further notice.” He says and Griffin bit back a protest to nod.

He rather scoop poop than be jobless and boyfriendless.

__________

The day that followed was met with a lot of commotion.

Cole wanted his creature back, roaring up a storm and scratching at the door, looking for any way out to get to him, wherever he was. It was making feeding him very difficult. They had no choice but to throw the slabs of meat over the top of his enclosure but he didn’t so much as sniff in the direction of where the bloody slabs lay. Usually, he’d tear right into his meals but he has more important things to tend to. Zane had woken up without the other leopard in sight. It almost seemed like a dream if it hadn’t been for his scent clinging to him still. Now, he could hear Cole clearly not that far away and paced the length of his icy enclosure for some way out to get to him. Unlike most of his kind, he was far more clever, having a father like he had. The only way in and out was through the door on the far right. He walked over, inspecting the odd construct then at the small hole in the door.

He’ll have to keep an eye to see just what that is for. He blinked once the scent of raw meat wafted through. Looks like he doesn’t have to wait for long. He sat patiently, hearing a jingle then blinked once the door pushed open, seeing the source of the jingle there.

“Hey bud. You won’t eat me today either, right?” A pale man with strange eye covers asked him and Zane just sat there before he began grooming the fur on the back of his pawed hand. “Good.” He sighed in relief then headed over to the built in bowl in the ground, knowing Zane wasn’t the type to lick the blood off the ground like the others.

It made cleaning way easier. Zane took his chance while his back was turned, padding over to the door left open. He flexed his paw before carefully wrapping it around the hanging set of keys to silence the noise it was sure to make then- with a bit of difficulty- tugged it out. He padded over to where the human had just turned around after carefully emptying the contents of raw meat, watching as he jolted in alarm at his proximity before mumbling about ‘too close’. He crouched before his meal instead, sniffing at it as he listened to the human make a sound of confusion at his missing tool.

“Where is it? I could have sworn-” He gave a sigh of relief as he pulled out his keys from his pocket then locked the door on the way out. “But where did I put Gravis’ keys?...” He asked himself as he moved on to another habitat.

Zane turned his paw over, looking at the set of tools in his hand, seeing the specific one used for his area and purred low, his tail flicking back and forth. He’ll go to him soon. When the humans are inactive at night… He turned away from his meal, too anxious for the long wait for nightfall to pass to end to stomach anything. He gave a low call to Cole, hoping he could hear it and understand. Soon. Cole on the other hand did catch the sound, knowing immediately that it was his pretty creature but not understanding what it meant. It only made him more anxious. Where was he? Where did they take him? How could he get to him? Cole gave a low sound of desperation as his tail and posture drooped.

… Will he ever see him again?

______

“Neither of them have even touched their food. And it’s not the meat. I always make sure the both of them specifically have the highest grade of deer and sheep, freshly killed each day.” Shade told Neuro and Chamille as they, Tox and Ash had a short meeting about Zane and Cole’s behavior.

“I’m surprised. It looks like they’ve really kicked it off in that past hour or two they were stuck together.” Chamille says lightly, fiddling with the end of her purple hair as she thought.

“... I’m curious to see how they’ll interact together.” Neuro says, lacing his fingers before his mouth. “It could help open up the mystery behind Cole’s sudden hormone spike and identify these new ones we’ve never seen before. We could see how it affects Zane too. I doubt Cole is the only one displaying strange blood results.” He says and Chamille nodded at that, wishing she had enough foresight back then to draw a sample from Zane too.

“So? How do we do this?” Tox asked him. “Cole’s habitat is too hot for Zane to go back to and Zane’s might be too cold for him.” She pointed out.

“Not necessarily.” Ash says as he sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Cole’s fur is on the thicker end of the Jaguar’s cold scale and we did rescue him after Pororoca when he was all the way on the lower ranges of the Andes. It’s significantly cooler up there than on the Amazon Basin and the terrain is much rougher. I think he can handle it, just like I think Zane can handle a slightly warmer habitat.” He says and Neuro nodded his agreement.

“Then tomorrow, we take Cole to Zane’s habitat and document what we find.” Neuro declared and they agreed, taking their leave to prepare for then.

Neuro looked at the door as it closed then looked at a picture of he and Griffin together on his desk. Looks like that massive mistake is leading to an even more massive discovery. He could feel it just around the corner…

___________________

Zane laid curled up on his favorite slab of artificial rock, looking to be asleep from the outside eye but that wasn’t the case at all. The lights had gone out some time ago and he was waiting still, just in case a human was around before making his move. After another few minutes, he got up reflective blue eyes darting around the area before he padded over to the floor, getting up on his hind legs so he could use his pawed hands. He struggled for a bit, the keys jingling lightly as he adjusted and readjusted his hold, until he had gotten muscle memory back into his thumb. He slid the key in and turned, hearing the door click before coming loose. The sight of another door irritated him since he didn’t know which of these would open that one but if he was anything, it was determined.

Cole on the other hand laid by the pond, his gold reflective eyes staring sadly at the water’s surface, remembering his beautiful creature. He never even got his name… Did he even have one? Not all of their kind could speak like humans, and even less had names. He reached a paw out, dipping it in the water and watching it ripple. His ear twitched however once he heard a door open from somewhere but he dismissed it, too put out to work himself up. He wonders if he was alright… His head lifted however once he heard jingling really close by. Right at his door actually. He got to all fours warily. He wasn’t normally fed or visited this late before. Humans sleep in the night after all. He tensed once he heard that door swing open before the jingling continued. He flicked his tail anxiously, his body coiled tight and ready to pounce- But then, a scent caught his nose. His pupils blew wide at the familiar scent of his creature before he was rushing over to the door, pawed hands holding onto the bars on it before he gasped softly at the familiar blue eyes looking up at him.

He gripped the bars tighter, a low, desperate sound escaping him as he pressed himself closer against the door. Zane leaned up against the door, a low purr slipping out as he rubbed against the door but frowning. It wasn’t the same. He returned back to his struggle against keys and tried more of them as Cole scratched at the door with his claws. Finally, finally the door clicked and Zane pushed it open, not at all bothered when he was enveloped in a tight embrace, earth surrounding him as happy mews filled his ears. Zane purred, pressing himself closer to Cole, rubbing against him eagerly as Cole reciprocated. Cole butted his forehead against Zane’s lightly, his tail flicking back and forth happily as he closed his eyes and took him all in. Zane relished in his affection, ready to roll over and show him his belly at any second.

Zane could spend forever here in this moment- Actually, no. He couldn’t. Even though the night was significantly cooler than the day, he was getting uncomfortably hot. He pulled back and Cole let him go, though reluctantly. Zane took him by the hand and tugged him in the narrow walkway between the doors and he follows, letting him lead him into the long hallway Cole’s never seen before.

“Come.” Zane told him, pulling him along to where his habitat was while Cole tried to process that his pretty creature just spoke and his voice sounded amazing.

“Where?” Cole asked and Zane gasped softly, looking back at him with wide blue eyes.

He then smiled, pulling Cole along still.

“Here.” Zane says, leading him inside his opened area, the cool air hitting him like a breath of fresh air.

Cole understood then. Zane’s area was cooler because he couldn’t stay in the heat, like before. It was colder than he was used to but he was sure he could handle it. He let his pretty creature tug him over to a flat slab of rock and Cole pulled him down into his arms as he sat, content to wrap around him like this and never let go.

“Do you... Have a name?” Cole asked Zane, finding speaking strange and a little hard to remember after not doing so in so long.

He should have listened to his mother when she warned him to keep practice speaking. It was a critical skill passed down from those first turned.

“Yes. Zane.” He answers and Cole pondered on the name before giving it a try.

“Zane…” He says then smiled. “I’m Cole.” He murmured, nuzzling into his hair.

“Cole…” Zane says softly then shivered as he licked at his ear. “Cole…” He said again, just because he could as his tail coiled around the larger male, wrapping around his broad back, leaving the tip of it to flick against his shoulder.

“Mine.” Cole rumbled low in his ear and Zane blinked then turned around so he could look at him directly, now straddling his lap.

“Yours?” He asked, with a curious tilt of his head, knowing what the term meant.

Cole wanted to possess him as one would possess territory. The idea… Was appealing. Very appealing. But he wanted to make sure Cole himself knew what it meant.

Cole looked him over, at his vivid blue eyes framed by white lashes, at his pink tipped nose and soft pink lips, both framed by long white whiskers and spotted fur at the far corners of his face. He… Zane… Was really beautiful.

“Yeah…” He told Zane quietly, cupping his cheek with a rough, padded hand, brushing his thumb against his cheek. “Mine.” He sealed his declaration with a gentle nudge of his forehead against Zane’s.

“Then…” Zane says, just as quiet. “You’re mine too.” He purred quietly with a soft smile Cole returned.

He flicked his tongue out, licking the tip of his black tipped nose and Cole huffed out a chuckle, pulling him closer by the waist as the tip of his tail tapped at Zane’s arm from where it had coiled around him on its own. This place isn’t so bad now. As long as he got to stay by Zane’s side then he’ll make due.

_____________________

“You lot sure are early.” Neuro says as he arrived to the main building for the rehab from the onsite apartment complex.

Their team was too small with too many demi humans to risk traveling hours away to the nearest town after all.

“You’re one to talk.” Chamille says with a smirk as she glanced up at the sky where the sun wouldn’t rise for another two hours.

“Oh? You too Griffin? Did Neuro drag you out of bed?” Ash asked, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Not at all, yo.” Griffin says around a yawn. “I wanna see em together, you know? They got a kind of vibe that reminds me of when Oreo and I got together, yo.” He explained.

“... Well, the notion isn’t all that impossible. Look at Kai and Jay. They might not understand the concept but they’re as gay as gay gets.” Shade says with a shrug as Neuro opened the rehab doors.

“I told you not to call me that at work though. I am your boss.” Neuro huffed at Griffin, holding the door open so the others could walk in.

“Chill out Oreo. We’re used to you two.” Tox says lightly and Neuro’s cheeks coloured.

“Do you sleep with that?” Chamille asked, gesturing to the tranq gun Tox held, sure that it was locked and loaded.

“And what if I do?” Tox shot back at the purplenette.

“I’ll check to see if they’ve eaten.” Shade says as he turned off down their hall- only to freeze mid step. “U-uh.” He stuttered, catching Ash’s attention.

“What’s so shocking to have you-” Ash stopped mid sentence, the same shock and fear filling him at what laid ahead. “U-uh… Did… Did someone… Leave their doors open?” He asked the others as they walked over.

They all stood stock still, staring down the halls at the opened habitats. Neuro shot Griffin a glare but he immediately held his hands up.

“Wasn’t me Oreo! You took my keys, remember?” He defended and Neuro deflates, knowing that was true.

He then took a breath.

“Shut it Oreo.” Tox says before he could speak. “I’m the one with the gun here. And there’s only one of them we really have to worry about anyway.” She says, holding it defensively before starting ahead into the still dark hall.

“Shouldn’t we set off the alarm yo?” Griffin asked as he looked around carefully.

“No. An alarm is too loud and might spook them, make them feel cornered. That’s the last thing we want.” Neuro told him as they watched Tox’s back.

She came to Zane’s habitat- then deflated with a huff. They looked at each other confused but walked over carefully when she motioned them to come. They all blinked at the sight before them, surprised- even though they shouldn’t be. There, both big cats lay, pressed closely together, holding onto each other tight. Zane was fast asleep against Cole’s chest from what they could tell from Cole’s position with his back to them, his pawed hand thrown over the Jaguar’s waist. It was… A sweet sight to see. But the question remained… How did Cole get out and who opened their habitats opened? A low, irritated growl escaped the larger cat, his tail flicking irritably as he glared at them over his shoulder, his reflective gold eyes very effectively sending chills down their spines. Neuro quickly reached out and pulled the second door shut, using his keys to lock it tightly before they all managed to relax.

“Alright. Let’s lock up and find out what the fuck happened here.” Neuro announced and they were quick to agree.

“Hey, yo… Aren’t these Gravis’ keys?” Griffin asked, pulling them out of the now empty habitat.

“Yeah. I overheard them asking Paleman for them yesterday but he seemed to have lost them…” Shade says, looking at them in Griffin’s hand.

“I’ll check the security feed and get to the bottom of this.” Neuro says as they locked up Cole’s former habitat, the group of them following him to his office where he got to work accessing the security feed. “Well I’ll be damned.” He huffed as he looked at the screen, the others gathering around him.

“What?! Zane let them out?!” Ash yelled, shocked.

“But… How?!” Shade asked, baffled and Neuro chuckled.

“Demi humans are more human than we think, that’s how.” He told his team lightly. “I’ve always believed that was the case but I haven’t come across strong enough evidence. That is, until today. What most likely happened is that Zane stole Gravis’ keys from Paleman when he wasn’t paying attention then used it to free himself and Cole as we saw. Though it’s a good thing that they don’t seem interested in escape or else this would have been ugly.” Neuro says and Chamille chuckled.

“Well. Looks like we have a lot to learn from those two, don’t we?” She asked him.

“Yeah. We do.” Neuro agrees. “And it’s all thanks to one massive mistake.” He says looking at Griffin as he looked at the screen, terrified from the prospect of Cole being able to open doors.

Griffin looked down at him then then grinned.

“You’re very welcome Oreo.” He murmured, pressing a light kiss to the corner of Neuro’s lips who only smiled.

“Don’t push your luck, Speedy.”

_________________

(It’s been ages since I posted a whole fic on here, huh? Well! here’s this fluff without plot! I literally had no idea what I was writing, just that I wanted big cat bois. Hope you enjoy! I have to get back on the Move on Dragons movement now.)

#ninjago #zane ninjago #ninjago zane #zane julien #ninjago cole #cole ninjago #cole brookstone #neuro ninjago #ninjago griffin #ninjago tox #ninjago shade #ninjago ash #ninjago chamille #other chars #Glaciershipping #aweebwrites' work

[tamiddyinyourcity]

12:40pm, I woke up exhausted.

Good news is I successfully had an orgasm today! Clit machine no longer broke, yall!

And.... yall know the opposite of the good news.

Subpar news: got a date today.

Not sure how I feel about it.

I kinda hate the idea of a nonserious relationship, but cringe at the idea of "taking it slow" for a real one... I find it pointless.

I guess that's why me and Patrick spent the whole first date talking politically, then the 2nd date, I was his first time, so.... yeah, things moved fast. I like it better that way.

(I kinda loathe the idea of holding back from sex for the sake of "keeping someone"..... If its the right person, they'll adore me whether or not they've had their dick in me for six seconds? Since well, even when the nut is gone, the good ass personality stays, only a dickhead would lose interest that fast.)

Yay, no wonder I had low self esteem for years. Kept having dudes with the "once i nut, why stick around" mentality with girls. I wonder why Patrick stayed? I guess he did have a genuine crush, back then. Plus, I imagine that being the first time factored potentially into emotions? I dunno.

Then again, Ethan went from "wow, ive never talked to someone like this before, never this deeply and personal", had his first time with me, and still went "id probably never date you though", and laughing, despite holding my hand and having his arm around me????? What is wrong with men???? You can't have your cake and eat it too, I hate niggas that do that.

...

Anyways.

Gonnna get gelato with Calvin. It'll be amusing seeing him, considering the last few times I saw him:

We got into a shouting fight in a chinese restaurant over me passively asking him to sit up straight when he talks. (He was ironically talking about how he wanted to appear more confident..... fucking dweeb.)

I sent him a very, very lengthy, thought piece on how I thought he was "bitch-made".

I told him about Patrick #1, which pissed him off. (Not that I was seeing someone else, that i described the someone else as "more confident than you".)

Then I saw him at the same Halloween Party I went with Patrick #2 to. (The party where I definitely realized I liked Patrick a lot, since he was starting to click with me way easier.) Calvin saw me, half-tipsy and Joker'd up, and instantly dipped. It was amusing.

Nice.

Random good memory: Patrick holding my hand across the table at a party, and for some reason, we were doing the best Belle Delphine faces possible..... was oddly hot.

And then the party ended, and we just kinda sat in his car with the intent of falling asleep till me and him sobered up. He still wasn't suave, so despite me looking at him and going, "Oh, he's trying to hint that he's horny", (every guy makes a specific face when they wanna fuck,) so he just blatantly said, "I really wanna kiss you right now". Cue steamed windows, somehow all the clown makeup on my face being removed, aaaaaaaaaand a very new side of him that I hadn't seen before.... Hot!

I've had lots of "laying down half asleep with a Drunk Patrick" moments, now that I think about it.... I miss that. :/

Extremely cramped and cold car, but it was funny, the conversations we had. And being borderline contortionists, trying to find ways to fit our scrawny asses in one car seat to cuddle, instead of just... going to the back seat.... or sleeping in two separate seats.

Another random good memory: his head would gravitate towards mine whenever I showed him something on my phone.

A normal person would stand shoulder to shoulder.

But a guy who's attracted to you, will instantly lean into you and rest his forehead against yours, like a magnet stuck to another magnet. To see whats on your phone.

Its amazing.

It was, at least.... oh well.

Random not good memory: Patrick letting a man spit in my face and try to attack me. What's the point of dating a person that can't defend his girlfriend? And of course if he shies away at that, I don't know why I expected to so much as tell a toxic friend, "if you plan to start a problem, dont show up".

I still really hate him for that day. It was so simple. She would've either not shown up, but still been your friend anyway and gotten over it, since why throw away a long term friendship over some girl you dont like?

Or, she would've shown up and not started shit.

Easy peasy.

But oh, sure, Patrick, choose the method of uninviting your significant other, and then thinking that was enough to end the relationship. How amazing.

.....

I need more time from him. When I can get to the point where I don't think about how he got a night of laughs with his friends without me, and enjoyed it enough to no longer wanna date me.....

Then, I've healed enough.

For now, I'm not gonna hang with him unless I'm bored or desperate enough.

And I got a date to get ready for.

Gelato, Calvin, and a good time.

Maybe I'll finally remove my new decade virginity. I haven't had sex in 17 days, so, lets hope this is good.

#exes #yikes

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Empire

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Baron Corbin/Roman Reigns

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Thirst Party Crew, welcome aboard! It's my birthday today, so I got a little (a lot) indulgent. We return to Suplex City! Tagging @tox-moxley, @oraclegazes, @hardcorewwetrash and a huge Thank You to @culturalrebel for their fantastic input! Enjoy!

The Brogue Kick Saloon

“The Shield!” Seth had said excitedly, of course he was excited. His daddy's money knew no end. He was one of the lucky ones, having been scooped up from an orphanage early on and groomed for greatness. “We'll dispense justice and shit like that, it'll be totally badass!”

Who wouldn't have been on board with that idea? Every kid dreamed about being a superhero, about wearing Kevlar and being so goddamn special that nothing could touch you. And in this city, the idea of being a deliverer of justice that wasn't as corrupt as the day was long was tantalizing all on its own.

The Shield.

It was perfect for a while. Roman felt like they were actually helping, the grateful looks on the faces of people they assisted more than enough for a couple of former gutter kids like he and Ambrose. They may not have superpowers, sure, but hard fists, quick kicks and Dean's motor-mouth were more than enough for them to deal with numerous Acolytes, so many members of the Family.

Seth wanted more though, not content with the offerings of thank-yous. He began calling for more aggressive patrols, more thorough sweeps. He wanted attention. Dean was ready for that, obviously, born and bred to fight was Dean Ambrose. Roman was the most cautious of the three of them and the idea of looking for trouble instead of just trying to prevent it made him uneasy.

Rollins was the first one to get hurt, of course. An Acolyte caught him across the back of his knee with a knife and he'd panicked, thrashing and making the wound a thousand times worse before Roman could knock the guy out. Old Mick Foley (who lived at the soup kitchen) had hollered at them from his doorstep, ushering the three men into his dingy quarters behind the kitchen.

“I see you boys out there almost every night, doing a real good job of keeping folks safe.” He'd said kindly as he patched up Seth's leg with tiny, expertly-placed stitches. “Just make sure you don't bite off more than you can chew, okay?” Roman implored Seth with his eyes to just shut the fuck up and be polite for once in your life, Rollins as Ambrose cracked his skull against Mick's in a fond gesture. Dean had always had an odd kinship with the mysterious older man, Mick returning the forehead bash after a moment. “Ambrose, I should have known it was you under that mask. God only knows who you other guys are, but you're making me proud keeping the Acolytes and Wyatts humble. It's dangerous work.”

Mick said things sometimes, back when Dean and Roman were nothing but scrappy teenagers picking up a hot meal at the soup kitchen. Things that got Roman thinking. One time Mick was just rattling on about the Underground, like how he had firsthand experience in dealing with the Deadman (yeah yeah, sure, crazy old Mick) and Roman had watched as Mick tugged his shaggy hair to the side for the first time and started nervously fidgeting with where his right ear had been. Roman also heard things on the streets and in the shelters. Things like that the fearsome creature Mankind was missing an ear and had lost it in a brutal brawl when another almost mythological level individual, Big Van Vader, had gone toe-to-toe with the maniac man of the Underground.

Roman never asked, but if he viewed Mick with a little more wary respect...well, it was probably for the best anyway, the guy fed a lot of people with his soup kitchen. A soup kitchen rumored to be kept afloat with warring donations from Seth's adoptive father Mr. Helmsley and the shadowy Undertaker, but one couldn't be too picky in the City That Showed No Mercy.

Seth's recovery period was longer than he would have liked. Roman figured that with the self-proclaimed brains of their outfit laid up, maybe they should tuck away their capes. At least for the time being. Dean kept his ears open for trouble but followed Roman's lead of laying low.

Reigns was eternally grateful for the shrewd business mind he had inherited from his long-gone father, investments of every penny tidily made years in advance for when he would be grown and wanting a little more out of life than a tiny apartment. The purchase of the old Kliq night club was a strategic move. The strip it was on was bustling by all accounts, properties being scooped up by the Triple H Corporation like hot cakes.

The club wasn't much to look at, bearing the same worn appearance as most of the battered buildings in Suplex City. But Roman knew deep down that with time and care, it could shine again. It had been a real hotspot back in its heyday. Roman could just barely remember how fancy the gold gilding and red paint used to be; the place had closed down when he was around eleven years old. Bankruptcy had a way of striking in the city when you least expected it, he guessed, especially if you weren’t paying attention.

His paint swatches and floor plans were put on the back burner when Seth made his triumphant solo return, exposing a coven of Family members that had been ritually torturing numerous members of the abundant homeless population. Dean was just happy to have an excuse to lace his ass kicking boots back up. Roman privately thought that something was wrong with Rollins. If he'd been aggressive before, now he was a goddamn man possessed. Always on the move, swinging from the rooftops dusk to dawn in shiny new gear with Dean and Roman trailing further and further behind. The time off had been hard on him, Roman supposed.

Seth should have known better than to try and fuck with the Family so boldly. Being the adopted heir of the Triple H Corporation had always come with boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed, for his own health. Rollins always griped about the ‘leash’ Stephanie and Hunter kept him on. But as much as he hated it, as much as he railed against it, it was still a leash that kept him safe. He didn’t seem to understand that Roman and Dean didn't have such luxurious ties, and one night Dean didn't show up.

The amount of sleep and blood Roman lost searching for Dean almost did him in; he woke up at Mick's battered and frantic and the older man had shoved him to lay back down. “We need to find Ambrose!” Roman's hand pressed to his poorly-bandaged ribs. He hadn't had time to stop when one of the Family came at him with their lantern, glass, metal and oil shattering across his side with a loud, hot explosion. He'd just torn his patchy velcro apart, mopped at the blood and clumsily pulled a chunk of his undershirt over the wounded area, zipped back up and kept moving forward through the dark. He didn't even remember it hurting, too scared and furious to care.

Mick gave him a sad look and Roman's throat closed up. No, no, please--

The older man had refrained from speaking while he helped clean Roman's side. “I can guess where Dean is.” He said finally. Roman's heart sank as Mick started rubbing over his ear.

Roman took the brunt of the beatings for their little Underground excursions ever since they’d lost Dean and the song and dance got a bit fucking tiring. Rollins didn't even seem to care that Dean was gone, too interested in his own game of superhero to bother looking for clues whenever they ventured below the streets of the city. Roman always returned with a few more tunnels mapped, a few more ways to figure out the labyrinth and a few more bruises, but Seth couldn’t seem to be fucked beyond the first couple feet of whichever manhole cover they’d disrupted.

Brief hope came in the screaming, barely human individual that Owens Powerbombed into unconsciousness in the alley behind the Brogue Kick Saloon. He was thin, so thin, reddish-blond hair sparsely peppering his body and covering his face. In his first brief moments of clarity, he would cry and tell them his name was Zayn, that he'd come here looking for a better life but he'd gotten so lost.

Kevin Owens was much more patient than he'd let on, and apparently a huge softie when it came to strawberry blond guys who could use some meat on their bones.

Sami Zayn, the fabled Underdog Of The Underground (and didn't that throw Roman for a loop that this scrawny guy was the Underdog), slowly regained most of his humanity, able to have halting conversations with Roman and Kevin about what had happened to him. He offered no insight on Dean, but he painted a picture of the Underground that was startlingly different from what everyone had thought.

“They fight for sport down there. The whole place is like a gladiator pit. They fight for Him.” Sami spoke slowly, so slowly. “Even if they think they're free to do as they please, everyone fights for Him.” His hands shook. “The Demon Balor, Viper,  Beast, Empress. Owned by the Family, but they're all His.” The Deadman's grip was apparently absolute, and heaven help you if you fell out of his good graces.

...

Roman had gone to Hustle as a last resort and his desperation almost did him in. The hunt for Ambrose was ended by The Beast's fists and The Viper's deadly strikes.

When exactly Dean had resurfaced, Roman wasn’t sure. He still remembered the call he got from the frantic O’Shaunessy in the wee hours of the morning, the debilitating guilt that he felt because he’d traded Dean’s life for his own. Heyman drove a hard bargain.

“I know ya’ ran t’gether, I need ya’ to calm his arse down.” Sheamus sounded distraught, the unfamiliar accent thick over the phone. “I dinnae wanna’ bother ya’, Reigns, but he’s in a damn bind here hollerin’ abou’ ye an’ Rollins. Rollins dinnae answer.”

Ambrose was halfway out of his mind but he still recognized Roman, though not how Reigns or O’Shaunessy wanted. Dean was furious, screaming brokenly at the large man who was all but frozen in the doorway, “you didn’t help! You left me down there to fucking die!” Ambrose flew into a frothing rage at the sight of Roman and Sheamus only barely managed to snag him around the waist before he was snapping his teeth in Reigns’ face. “You and Rollins, you fucking piece of shit! I expected it from the rich boy, but not you, we were brothers, dammit!”

Sheamus didn’t know what had happened between them, and he didn’t need to. Once the large redhead had Dean essentially restrained Roman took a cautious step forward and cupped Ambrose’s face. Dean’s teeth clicked together as he tried to bite Roman’s fingers but Roman ignored the attempt, pressing his forehead to Dean’s. Like he used to do before, when Rollins was tearing off ahead of them and Dean was still trying to catch his breath.

“Ambrose, Christ.”

Dean stopped struggling for a second. Jerked around and then paused again, eyes half-closed while Roman murmured to him. “I c-can’t…Ro, please, m’sorry, make it stop…” He groaned.

“No Ambrose, you’re right. You’re right. I gave up. I failed you. I didn’t think I would ever see you again. Rollins…I don’t know what happened.” Roman shook his head. “It was like he didn’t even give a shit. I went down alone so many times, followed so many leads. I even went to Heyman, but I couldn’t…I’m so sorry, Dean.”

“R-Roman…” Dean had never said his name like that, almost a sob. Sheamus relaxed his grip a fraction and then Dean was lunging, yelling nonsense words and clawing at Roman wildly.

Roman hated the sympathy in Sheamus’ eyes when he’d left once Dean had cried himself out, the hand that the red-haired man rested on his shoulder feeling too heavy. But he hated himself far more. Dean was right, he had abandoned him to the bloodbath of the Underground. Sure, they could blame Rollins until the cows came home, but the fact of the matter was that Reigns had given up. His life had been threatened and he’d bitched out. He could have done more. He should have tried harder, pushed further, taken more abuse.

Maybe he could have saved his brother.

…

The years went by and The Empire opened to the public, Kevin proposing to Sami in a shocking moment right after Roman had cut the stereotypical ribbon. Sheamus had toasted the soon-to-be-married couple with Ambrose’s hand in his own. Roman was intensely grateful for Sheamus’ dedication to Dean, feeling the guilt in his chest ease off a little every time he saw Dean smile up at the redhead.

He and Ambrose never made up officially. But one night when Roman had visited the Saloon to warn them that the Acolytes had started moving more aggressively, Dean dragged him in for a quick headbutt at the door. That was it, but Roman decided it was far more than he deserved. Ambrose didn’t have to know about what he had done. Shit, Owens and Zayn were the only ones who knew the full story and they weren't exactly a talkative duo. Roman didn’t think he would be able to handle Dean being that infuriated with him again, “you didn’t help! You left me down there to fucking die!” so he kept it to himself.

Rollins stopped communicating with him altogether. Probably for the best, he and Roman had an ugly falling out over Dean and Roman had come scarily close to strangling his former brother.

“He’s always been a few sandwiches short of a fucking picnic, man. We’re better off without him. Stronger. Smarter.”

Roman couldn’t recall ever wanting to hurt someone more than he had at that moment. But he managed to keep himself under control (if only just), tossing Seth out on his ass with a stern, “don’t come back unless you’re in serious trouble, got it?”

Ever the strong, brave brother was Roman Reigns, one more thing on his shoulders.

...

Baron Corbin came roaring into the City That Showed No Mercy as the weather grew colder with all the subtlety of a brick through the front window of Royal Arrangements (and whoever had decided that was a good idea sincerely needed their head checked, the last thing any sane person would want was one of Regal's boys after them. Especially Pete!).

He was a big man with a bigger bike, tattoos that would make The Viper jealous and a rumored mean streak that ran deeper than the Underground. The fact that he arrived on a Friday (and Friday the thirteenth, no less) meant Roman wasn’t exactly able to devote any sort of attention to the fact that there was a new person in town.

He did not expect the application slipped under the front door of the club sometime early Monday morning, reading and rereading the neat, slightly-cramped handwriting as he drank his coffee. Prior experience looking/being threatening. Can't dance worth a damn but willing to learn if necessary. He chuckled a little bit at the idea of that guy tangling with the likes of Colin or Jericho on the stage. Just learning how flexible Big Colin Cassady was had surprised him, so it was an entertaining prospect. But no, he had more than enough talent on his hands at the moment what with people jumping ship from Hustle, and even a few office-workers-turned-dancers from when Del Rio Import And Export closed down.

Could use another guy for the door, at least until the spring. He mused to himself. That way Kevin can have another day off. Be with Sami in the mornings. Normally on Kevin’s days off Roman pulled door duty, and then on Sami’s days off Roman tended the bar. Having an extra body would let him get more paperwork done. Plus, if the guy had any sort of decent personality maybe he could offer him bar hours.

Baron was soft-spoken for being as large as he was. He didn’t twiddle his fingers or cross his arms, instead sitting as straight as possible in the chair across from Roman while he conducted the interview. For all intents and purposes he seemed like a shoe-in for the job, level-headed and able to take orders if he needed to.

“Sign here and you’re an official member of The Empire staff.” Roman watched as Baron’s face lit up and he felt…something in his chest loosen the tiniest bit.

…

Kevin got along with Baron as well as Kevin got along with anyone, which was to say that Baron stayed out of Kevin’s way and Kevin hadn’t tried to eat him alive yet. Sami was still a little wary of people who weren’t Roman or Kevin, so Reigns didn’t expect much in the friendship department from him.

Baron was strangely respectful of all the talent Roman employed, both the regulars like Cass and Jericho as well as the part-timers like Perkins, Dawson and Dash. His answer when Roman quizzed him on it offered a little more insight on the quiet man.

“My mom used to do this. The dancing. She loved it, loved the attention. You always hear stories about people who get forced into this field as a last resort.” Baron stared down at his own hands. “It was the only thing she wanted to do, though. She said it made her feel powerful, bein’ up on the stage with guys all over her.” He gestured at the stage, where Big Cass and Roman's MC, Enzo, were running through their routine before the place opened for the night. “You aren’t forcing anyone to be here, man. Nobody’s beholden to you or any of that bullshit and everyone knows not to touch. It’s…refreshing.”

Roman shook his head, leaning back in his chair. The revenue paperwork could wait a minute or two. “I never wanted this place to be like that. I couldn’t handle that prostitution cover kind of club. People want that, they can go to Heyman’s place.” He knew he sounded more bitter than he ought to. “Folks come here when they’ve had a bad day. Folks go to Hustle when they want to forget who they fucking are.”

“Good on you, man.” Baron seemed wistful, tacking on a, “Wish my mom had worked here.” Roman knew that tone of voice. But Baron didn’t continue like most people would have. Instead he just got to his feet, straightening out his vest silently.

Roman could take a hint, returning to his paperwork. The numbers swam in front of his eyes though. Why the hell had he badmouthed another establishment in front of an employee? That was juvenile shit, regardless of how justified it was. Roman groaned, rubbing his eyes and putting his forehead on the table. Just for a second...

He should have known that working at Hustle was a bad fucking move. The place was crawling with the Family and Acolytes, all throwing their money away on the different fighting pits or the strippers and the outrageously-priced drinks. But he was out of options and the pay they promised was excellent. Not to mention the fact that everyone knew Paul Heyman had dealings with every seedy character in the entire Suplex City underbelly. If there was going to be someone who knew about Dean, it would be Heyman. Roman figured working there would enable him to finish financing his own dream, as well as give him the best chance he had at someone who could help him find Dean.

Because of his intricate tattoo he was packaged as an ‘exotic attraction’, rare and expensive. He thanked his lucky stars that when he, Ambrose and Rollins were The Shield they'd had the foresight to cover up, since his arm piece was a dead goddamn giveaway. Roman remembered feeling disgusted with himself after the first night, his skin crawling every time someone approached his elaborate golden cage. The only thing that kept him from quitting on the spot was the promise of getting in good with Heyman. He had known what he was in for, but for some reason it seemed a hundred times worse when he was being leered at.

Roman didn’t have to strip. Shit, he didn’t even have to fight that often. He knew he should be thankful, he was a hell of a lot safer than the scrawnier guys like Kendrick or Swann because he didn't look like an easy win. Years of rooftop running and strict workout regiments from Rollins had finally done him some good. But being marketed as an ‘exotic’ never failed to rub him the wrong way. Heyman was (allegedly, according to Cena) a little disappointed when he found out Roman wasn’t going to snarl and pace in his cage like a fucking wild animal.

“He wants you to act like a savage, man.” John Cena wasn’t a person known to be cruel, but he could be…more blunt than was comfortable. Roman wanted to punch him more often than he didn’t.

Roman should have thrown in the towel right there, but he was stubborn. So goddamn stubborn. And then one morning, he got caught by Punk in Heyman’s office-

“Boss? Hey, Reigns.” Someone was shaking his shoulder and Roman jerked upright.

“What! What, what is it?” he asked blearily.

Baron’s laugh washed over him. “Stimulating stuff, huh? I walk off and you take a nap. Put down the work for a little while, Reigns. Give your brain a breather. Cass has a question for you anyhow.”

…

The night Roman noticed The Viper in the club, Kevin was off. And as much as Roman wanted to jump down Baron’s throat for letting the psychopath into his establishment, he had a sneaking suspicion that The Viper hadn’t come in through the front door.

Roman felt that old, familiar panic squeeze the air out of his lungs as he bolted for his office behind the bar. What do I do? He had hoped he would never see The Viper or The Beast ever again. He had stopped looking for Dean! He’d kept his end of the bargain! Why would Heyman do this to him? The Empire wasn’t big enough to threaten Hustle in the slightest, this didn’t make any sense!

And now that guy, The Viper, was in the middle of his club. Innocent people were fucking everywhere, it was like a playground for that maniac. It was going to be a bloodbath and Roman didn’t have the goddamn luxury of hiding in his office and waiting it out like the coward he was.

He had to do something.

Roman squared his shoulders, opened the door again. The first burst of music and lights was always disorienting and he closed his eyes, like he had a thousand times before.

“Boss?”

Reigns jumped about a foot as Baron stared down at him, looking a bit confused. “J-Jesus Baron, warn a guy huh? What’s up?” Roman finally stammered, trying to look around the larger man to keep tabs on The Viper.

“You alright, Reigns? Not looking so good. You sick or something?” Baron asked worriedly. Roman wanted to ponder the concern in the voice of the other man, but he finally caught sight of The Viper again and it was like time slowed to a halt for him. Everything faded away and Roman was left in darkness with The Viper once more…

“I didn’t expect that an employee of mine would stoop so low.”

Coming back to consciousness after CM had kneed him in the face and stomach a few times was terrifying. Roman had no idea where he was. It sure as hell wasn’t Hustle. His nose felt like it was broken.

Paul Heyman stood in front of him, his hands clasped behind his back. The smile on his face just made Roman even more nervous. “Snooping in my office, Reigns? Didn’t you learn anything from your stint as a play vigilante? Rollins was the only smart one in your bunch, I guess.”

Roman growled around the bandanna he’d been gagged with. Leave it to Heyman to lead him into some kind of trap. But shit, leave it to himself to walk into it like a bumbling idiot. An office left unlocked? With how paranoid Heyman was, that should have set bells and whistles off in Roman’s head.

Two people were prowling in the shadows of the room they were in. Roman kept on catching glimpses out of the corner of his eye. It might have been Punk. If he was lucky one of them would be Punk. Heavy footsteps and then light, skittering ones. Paul was still rattling on and Roman took the opportunity to slowly test the security of his bonds.

Either Heyman had Punk ready and waiting to knee him in the face again or they had severely underestimated Roman’s strength, because the ropes were already frayed.

It wasn’t CM in the room. The soft hiss was Roman’s first clue and his blood ran cold. The Viper.

“I brought a few people who you might remember. I know they remember you.” Paul’s chuckle was mirthless.

“I’m sorry. I have t-to--” Roman floundered, the panic setting in as he watched The Viper crane his head and scan the crowd bathed in flickering lights.

Baron followed his line of vision, eyes narrowing. “Who let him in here? He didn’t have an ID so I turned him away.” He growled, sounding annoyed.

“Him not having an ID is the least of our problems. Guy can drop a room full of people. We need to be care…ful.” Baron had headed off before Roman finished speaking, the tall man easily making his way through the mass of patrons. “Wait, Baron!” Roman yelled, his voice lost in the pulsing music. He had no choice but to hurry after him, managing to grab his arm before he was spotted by The Viper.

“What, boss?” Roman could hardly hear Baron, resorting to yanking him even closer.

“You can’t! This guy will fucking kill you, Baron!”

“He shouldn’t be in here! You obviously don’t want him in here, I didn’t let him in here, so he’s going to fucking leave!” Corbin roared.

“Will you think for a second?! This guy could seriously injure a lot of people if you upset him!” Roman refused to be intimidated, shouting right back. “Use your fucking head, Baron!”

“You want me to use my head, Reigns? Fine.” Baron ripped his arm free of Roman like it was nothing, Reigns left grabbing at air as Baron cleared the distance between himself and The Viper much too quickly. Corbin apparently caught The Viper off guard when he slammed his forehead into the other man’s, flooring him easily. “What’d I say at the door, asshole?!” Baron yelled.

Roman was flabbergasted. He’d never seen anyone get the upper hand on the damn snake and yet here was Baron, kicking the guy in the ribs. It has to be a trick.

…

“Talk, fuckstick.”

Roman had called Kevin in, apologizing over and over in a shaky voice when he answered the phone. Now, Owens loomed over the back of the chair they had tied The Viper to. The man with the scarred and shaved head looked incredibly uncomfortable. He was sweating bullets and kept wriggling in his bonds every couple of seconds. Clearly, being caught was not part of the plan tonight.

Corbin bared his teeth. “I said talk. You wanted in, you’re in. Better start talking, you piece of fucking garbage.”

The Viper cocked his head to the side, studying Baron. Roman flinched at the motion and a sick grin slowly spread across the snake's face. “He’s afraid of me…but you’re not.” His voice was soft. It always was. “Why? Is it because you don’t know any better?”

“I’ll ask the fucking questions, thank you.” Baron snarled. “Why are you fucking here? Start fucking talking before I start breaking your fingers.”

“You don’t scare me, Baronnnn.” The Viper hissed and Roman shuddered, his leg knocking into Baron’s. The taller man’s hand was abruptly on the back of Roman’s thigh, steadying the jitters of his body.

“That’s because you don’t fucking know better, Viperrrrr.” Baron mocked, giving Reigns’ leg one last pat before getting to his feet. “So I’m going to teach you to know better.”

The Viper narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth to retort and Corbin struck, wrenching his right index finger backwards with a quick, loud snap! The Viper yelled, sounding more pissed off than in pain as he thrashed.

“Nine to go.” Baron rumbled, his hand already moving to the next digit. “Want to try again?”

“Wait! Please, wait, I’m no good to Him broken, he’ll kill me!” The Viper begged.

“All the fucking better.” Owens commented dryly.

“Who fucking sent you?” Baron hovered over the other man’s fingers.

“It was the Family, the Family. They own me, they own everything. They wanted me to scout…H-Heyman said…” The Viper faltered as Roman’s whole body snapped to attention at the name. Reigns clenched his fists, feeling a cold sweat drench him.

Dammit.

“What about Heyman?” Owens pressed, shooting a worried look at Roman.

“He knows! Of course he knows, Roman knows everything about Heyman!” The snake sounded hysterical. “Why don’t you ask him? Ask the one in the golden cage. Ask him how well he took his beating, ask him how hard he cried when Punk broke his nose and the Beast busted his head open on the concrete and I ripped his back apart! Ask him, ask him!” Crazed laughter exploded out of the bound man. “Ask him about the friend he fucking abandoned to us, ask him about Ambrose! Ask him about how he tried and tried to find his brother, while Rollins played hero up on the rooftops far away from us! Oh yeah, Roman knows everything--!”

Kevin’s arm wrapped around The Viper’s neck, finally stopping his manic rambling. Reigns only realized he was trembling when Baron squeezed his hip, hard. He felt sick to his stomach. “Are we done here?” Kevin asked, sounding bored. Owens was always simmering, but in an eerily calm way. It was like he was constantly thinking, forever planning his next move. Even with his arm cutting off the other man's air Roman could almost hear the gears turning.

Baron’s mouth curved into an unpleasant smile. “I think law enforcement should handle you from here, Viper.” The Viper wheezed for breath with Owens' arm pressed into his throat, eyes wide in horror. “Boss, how long does it take our fine officers to get here? Five minutes? Three?”

“I-I’ll go call them now, usually about three?” Roman replied weakly.

Baron cracked his knuckles.

The music out in the club muffled any noise The Viper might have made before Officers Breeze and Fandango arrived on the scene. Roman couldn’t make himself go back into his office before they escorted the snake out, instead sitting at the bar and nursing a glass of water. Sami left him alone for the most part after bringing him his water, seeming to realize that something was very wrong. Roman felt numb, the beating he’d received at the hands of The Viper and The Beast years ago playing over and over in his mind like a shitty clip show.

Stupid him, believing Heyman when he’d said that would be it. He had thought he would be safe, he’d given his word that he wouldn’t ever return to the Underground and he’d stopped searching for Dean. He had cried and begged on that cold concrete floor at Heyman’s feet, pleaded just to know that Dean was alive even while The Beast battered his body with his fists. Roman didn’t care what The Viper did to him, what The Beast did to him as long as Ambrose was alive. Because if he knew for a fact that somewhere down there Dean was still fighting, there was no way in hell he’d stop trying to find him.

Paul hadn’t deigned to answer him, just standing there impassively with his hands clasped behind his back. Roman had finally shattered when The Viper had split his back open with the chair, resorting to pleading and bargaining for his own life before he finally lost consciousness. All the while his heart heavy with shame at how weak he was. He woke up in a gutter a block away from The Empire, a pink slip stapled to the remains of his shirt. Aside from it being his official notice of termination from Hustle, Paul had taken the time to carefully write in, “remember our agreement, Roman.”

William Regal was the one who helped Reigns stumble back to The Empire, the older man easily hefting him upright without so much as a ‘by your leave’. “Do I need to call the authorities?” He’d asked quietly, voice a little more clipped than usual. At Roman’s frantic head shake he’d sighed. “I must open up for the morning, but I’ll send young Tyler over to check on you. If you need anything, Reigns, let us know. You’re a good fellow. I hate to see you like this.” Roman remembered clinging to Regal, his eyes burning with tears that he couldn’t shed. What would William think if he knew that Roman had traded Dean’s life for his own? Some strong, brave brother he was, some fucking friend.

A hand latched onto his arm, startling Roman out of the looping nightmare, and then someone was hauling him off his barstool, almost knocking him over with the force of the motion. Roman raised his fists, milleseconds from swinging before he realized who it was that had moved him. “Christ, Baron.” The relief he felt was short-lived as he took in how ripshit the larger man looked.

“You wanna’ explain to me what the fuck is going on here, boss?” Corbin snapped. “Because I’m feeling like I might be the only one in the fucking dark!”

Roman scrubbed his hands over his face. “It’s nothing.” He said finally.

“Like hell it is!” Baron grabbed his arm hard, fingers digging into the tattooed skin. “You’re coming with me, and you’re telling me exactly what’s going on here. And if you don’t, I’m fucking gone!”

“I told you it’s nothing! Let me go!” Roman strained against Baron’s hold as the other man forcibly walked him to his office. Roman balked at the sight of the chair, the bits of rope still tied to it making him shudder.

“I’m warning you, Reigns.” Baron grunted. “You keep lying to me, I’ll zip the fuck up and head out.”

“I am the authority in this goddamn building, Corbin! I should fucking fire you for putting your hands on me, never mind the fact that you directly disobeyed an order!” Roman snarled back, struggling in Baron’s grip. All the other man did was cinch his arms tighter. “Let me go, dammit!”

“Listen to me. You were obviously scared stiff, so cut the tough guy bullshit. I don’t know what he did to make you scared.” Baron’s voice dropped even lower. “I wasn’t about to let him hurt you. Or anyone else, got it?”

Roman felt a little of the fight ooze out of him, his shoulders drooping. “I-I had to…I couldn't...” His voice failed him, dissolving into nothing.

Baron sighed heavily, Roman feeling the motion of his chest expanding against his back. “I don’t need to know. I get it, okay? It’s none of my fucking business anyways.” He said finally. “You’re safe. Your club is safe for the time being. I’m sorry I got carried away. The way you were acting made me nervous and I kind of just...lashed out.” Baron apologized, attempting to let Roman go.

But Reigns hugged his arms tightly, just for a second. “Thank you, Baron.” He swallowed thickly, not sure why he felt like he needed to cry all of a sudden.

Baron made a noise in his throat, one hand moving up to pat Roman on the top of his head like he was a small child. “Shh, you’re okay. Don’t fucking thank me for doing my job, man. I’m here to keep this place and everyone in it safe. Owens would have done exactly the same thing.” He paused for a second. “You can thank me by not firing me, and also maybe helping me figure out how that weirdo got in here, okay boss?”

“Fuck, my paperwork.” Roman groaned, knocking his head back against Baron's chest. He had expected Corbin to release him once he'd let go of his arms, but he was pleasantly surprised when the taller man didn't.

Baron rested his chin easily on Reigns' head, arms still tight around him. “Nope. We need to secure our perimeter, man. Keep your patrons safe. Owens can hold down the fort. He knows to get Jericho if he needs backup.”

“I can't just--”

“You can, and you will. We have a responsibility. The quicker we get this sorted out, the quicker we can get you back to your precious paperwork.”

The huge hand prints in the dust on the floor of the basement were more than enough to send Roman right back into a panic. The trapdoor. Once bolted and padlocked down securely, the wood and metal now laid in a tangled pile of scrap, with more prints around the gaping opening. At least The Beast hadn’t come any further than there.

“Fuck is this shit? Look at these marks.” Baron said, sounding almost excited. “You guys got Ninja Turtles in your sewers or something?”

“No, just fucking nightmares. We need to fix this. The sooner the better.” Roman replied, already making a list in his head of the things he would need. “Nakamura isn’t open this late, otherwise I’d just head over to Strong Style and grab a sheet of boilerplate. I should have known the lock wouldn’t be enough, fuck.”

“Well if you’ve got some scrap lumber around I can probably rig something up for the night.” Baron offered.

Roman scrubbed his hands over his face again. Christ, he was exhausted. “I need to get some coffee into me. You’ll probably need some too. I’ll have to stand watch down here for the night, make sure nothing-”

Baron waved him off. “Nah man, I think I can handle this. Coffee and power equipment are a hell of a combo, but I’ll make it work.”

…

Acolytes in his back room two days after The Beast was in his basement.

Roman felt like the universe might be against him and he’d had it up to here with the harassment, letting out his old Shield battle cry and tackling one of the robed figures. Roman put a little heart behind his attack and ended up launching himself and the Acolyte through the back door, rolling down the steps and crashing to a halt in the alley behind The Empire. The Acolyte flailed wildly beneath him as the other three scrambled after them and Roman bolted to his feet. He knew how they fought, knives and fists an often-lethal combination.

But they all took off running, fleeing the scene. Roman saw red. “Oh no you don’t, assholes!” He yelled, sprinting after them. It wasn’t hard to guess their destination, but seeing as how he’d given his word that he wouldn’t go to the Underground ever again Roman had to catch at least one of them if he wanted to get anything rectified.

He heard Sheamus’ booming voice right before he rounded the corner behind the Brogue Kick, the older man swearing in Gaelic. Roman skidded to a stop after he saw the Acolytes leap the fence at the far end of the alley, bending over and trying to catch his breath. “You guys see 'em go by? Christ.” He gasped out.

“Yeah Reigns, but they're probably halfway to the Casket by now. There was a group of 'em, you dumb shit. You know better than to try and take those guys on. Too many knives.” Dean scolded. A smaller individual sat next to Ambrose, busily stuffing their face full of colcannon. Roman felt like they might be one of the people that sometimes turned up behind The Empire begging for food.

“Motherfuckers were in my back room. They trashed the place. I lost my cool.” Roman shot Sheamus a pleading look as he fought to get his hair back out of his face. O'Shaunessy seemed concerned, glancing at Dean.

“I ain't kicked an ass in a while.” Dean mused, not appearing to notice the fourth member of their party slipping off the steps and back into the shadows of the alley. “I ain't been to the Casket since before the Underground, though. Probably shouldn't go back.”

Reigns felt guilty for even putting the idea in Ambrose's head when he saw the way Dean's whole body shivered momentarily, the way Sheamus quickly grabbed the other man's hand. “Ah, never mind guys. You're right, Dean. Bad move, trying to take on a group of them. Especially in territory they're familiar with.” Roman quickly backtracked.

“I agree with Reigns, Ambrose. S' no good.” Sheamus mouthed thank you to Roman as Dean slowly nodded. “I am sorry abou' the damage done, Reigns. We can help tidy up, if ya' need more hands?”

“It was only a couple of bottles, I should be okay. Thanks.” Roman winced. “I may have done more damage to the door throwing one of them out than four of them did getting in.” He bid them farewell and slowly made his way back to The Empire, fighting to get a handle on his temper for most of the walk. It was almost time to start getting ready for the night so he unlocked the front door and stepped inside. A loud voice met his ears and light streamed from the back room into the main area of the club.

“--fuck he is, Kevin it looks like a fucking bomb went off in here! I don’t know…the back door is all fucked up, I already checked the basement--“

Roman leaned against the doorway of the room, that odd feeling in his chest back as he watched Baron rant into the phone and pace. The stupidity of what he’d done finally caught up to him and Reigns cringed. He could be seriously injured or dead in a gutter somewhere for all anyone knew, one didn’t normally pursue Acolytes. He cleared his throat and Baron looked up, unceremoniously ending his call with a curt, “never mind, he’s here.”

“There were Acolytes.” Roman began, feeling like he might be in trouble. The door to the outside was hanging by one hinge, a few bottles broken on the floor. It looked like there had been a struggle, like someone had gotten dragged off. He hadn’t really thought about it, too upset with the idea of being fucked over for the second time in less than a week.

“You went after them by yourself?”

Oh yeah, he was definitely in trouble. Roman nodded slowly. Baron exhaled a long, irritated growl of breath. “How the hell have you lasted this long, man?”

“I just got so fucking pissed off. Wasn’t thinking straight but…I’m tired of being a fucking pushover, tired of being scared that some asshole is going to set his man-beasts on me.” Roman shrugged. He knew it sounded flippant and he was waiting for Baron to accuse him of lying again.

Baron shook his head after a minute, jerking on the bottom of his leather vest to straighten it out. “I…just wait for someone next time, boss. Damn near gave Owens a heart attack. We weren’t sure what happened to you. Think about how pissed off he or Zayn would be if you got fucking stabbed or some shit.” He said gruffly.

“What about you?” Roman didn’t know why the hell he’d even asked. The words hung awkwardly between them and he wished he could take them back.

Especially when Baron replied nonchalantly, “You’re the guy who signs my checks, obviously I’d be a little upset, boss.”

…

Thanksgiving Eve found most of the neighborhood at the Brogue Kick Saloon, playing pool and enjoying a cold drink with a piping hot bowl of colcannon or soup deej or. The gutter kid that Ambrose and Sheamus had taken in looked much healthier than the last time Roman had seen them, that was for sure. Their face wasn’t quite so pinched and they actually smiled up at Baron and Roman when the two men entered from the street with Big Cass in tow.

Roman found a lot of Sheamus’ advice invaluable when it came to The Empire. This was his first real business venture, after all, so any and all input he could get was good in his book.

Dean hauled him in to whack their foreheads together while Sheamus was occupied with pouring Regal’s lone glass of stout. “M’ proud of you, big bro.” Ambrose said quietly. “Doing fine over there. Your dad would be fuckin’ stoked if he could see you.”

Reigns hadn’t planned on hiding in the bathroom for damn near half an hour trying to get his emotions back under control, but life was strange that way. Every time he looked up and caught sight of himself in the mirror everything went to pieces inside him. He never knew his mother and his memories of his father faded with every passing day, but he and his father had the same eyes, the same laugh.

“Roman, my son Roman! Strong as he is brave, and brave as he is strong!” His father used to jokingly announce him when he came to his hospital room after school, laughing in between coughing fits when Roman would launch himself at the bed to hug him and rattle on about what he'd learned that day.

The mirror reminded Roman of everything he'd lost and he hated it, clenching his fists on either side of the sink as his whole body fought the urge to just curl up and cry for hours. He tried not to get into states like this. It was too dangerous, he had way too much at stake to be able to break down whenever shit got too heavy for brave, strong Roman fucking Reigns.

Sami was the one who ended up finding him, the bearded man not saying anything before he wrapped Roman in a hug. Reigns couldn’t help the pathetic heave of his shoulders as he cried, the way his fingers dug into Zayn’s shirt.

“Oh shit, is this a moment or…?” Baron’s voice interrupted Sami quietly murmuring to Roman. He sounded awkward. “I mean, I can leave if it is. My bad, guys, I’ll just-”

“Will you shut the fuck up and get over here, Christ.” Sami grumbled in annoyance. “He needs us, Baron.”

It was barely a second before another set of arms settled heavily around Roman’s waist, Corbin wiggling into the hug more than a little clumsily. “I don’t really do hugs.” Baron grunted. “What the fuck happened?”

“I dunno’. Walked in on him like this. He was gone for a little while, figured I’d find him.” Sami replied quietly over Reigns’ head. “Also Kevin is cheating at pool.”

“We were both cheating, you twit.” Owens snapped, making Roman flinch. When had Kevin gotten there?! “You guys better have a great explanation for why you’re having a grabass festival without me, especially with my damn husband.” A hand fondly rumpled Roman’s neatly-ponytailed hair. “Motherfucker.”

“Th-thank you, guys.” Roman finally croaked out. “You're so fucking good to me, shit.”

“We care about you, Roman.” Sami said gently. “You gave me a second chance at life, gave so many people security and peace of mind when Del Rio closed up shop. You even took in Styles when he jumped ship from Hustle, and that was dangerous considering you know as well as I do how much of a breadwinner he was for Heyman.”

“It's alright, man.” Owens' voice was much softer than Roman was used to. “You don't have to be the Big Dog all the time. You're allowed a day off.”

Roman just shook his head and hugged them all a little tighter.

…

Before Roman knew it the time had come to have their annual holiday celebration. He had offered The Empire as the location this year, their neighborhood revel getting a little too large in number for Sheamus's Saloon to contain.

He was kept busy running back and forth with Regal and Pete in tow as they discussed decorations for The Empire and took notes. Little sketches began to clutter Roman’s desk instead of his usual paperwork, how centerpieces should look and where the garlands would be. The Brogue Kick volunteered to take care of the food, and Sheamus had given Roman and Sami some great ideas for toddy add-ons (why hadn’t Roman thought of spiked cherries before?!).

With all the planning going on Roman didn’t have a spare second ever, so when a timid knock rapped against his office door early on the morning of the party he was perplexed. Trent and Pete weren’t due to come by until at least eight and it was barely six now. He opened the door, stifling a yawn as he did. “Oh! Baron, ‘sup?”

Corbin looked nervous, which might have woken Roman up a bit more if he hadn’t been so damn tired. “Reigns…boss, I uh…I mean, stop me if this is a little forward, but everyone's been working really hard and shit and I-I was wondering if there was any way I could maybe be more help? I mean, I don’t do much during the day except tinker with my bike, and there’s only so much tinkering to be done. I…I don’t feel like I’m farm--shit, earning my keep, y’know?”

Roman blinked up at him, confused. What the heck had he been about to say? Farming his keep? That shit didn't make sense even to Roman's exhausted mind. “You want to work more?”

“You have a lot of the other guys doing stuff during the day too, I just figured…”

“Sami and Owens have been my friends for a while, Corbin. I wouldn’t be able to stop them from helping me even if I wanted to.” Roman said wryly. “Styles thinks he has to get in my good graces or some shit, I think. Either that or he's got the hots for Jericho. Maybe both.”

Baron chuckled, seeming to relax somewhat. “Well, keep me in mind. I know Cass probably has the 'reaching high stuff' category covered, but if he needs a breather, I could be your guy, boss.”

After Roman dozed off on his pile of forms out in the main room for the third time and woke up with Pete's heavy, fur-lined jacket draped over his shoulders he finally decided that maybe...maybe the paperwork could wait until after the party. Regal's boys hardly needed supervision. Jericho was doing an excellent job of directing them, all the while leafing through Roman's sketches pinned to his worn-looking clipboard. AJ hovered by Chris's shoulder, offering input and beaming when Jericho praised him. Roman got the feeling that he may have his hands full when it came to those two, vaguely recalling that Styles had been a bit of a pain in the ass during his time at Hustle.

Sheamus had Ambrose and their gutter kid (apparently dubbed Mite) running back and forth across the street delivering the food, so that was taken care of. Sami was all over the bar, speaking in excited bursts with Kevin about the plans he had for the evening beverages. Corbin had been placated for the moment with helping Regal and Trent cart over the decorations.

All in all, it was shaping up to be an excellent evening.

Old Mick made his usual entrance. Fashionably early, clad in a full Santa suit and lugging his familiar, massive pot of spaghetti and meatballs. John and Nikki managed to stop by for a few minutes before they opened Hustle that evening, offering warm wishes and an ornate fruit basket to the staff of The Empire (courtesy of Mr. Paul Heyman, of course).

Roman crumpled up the card on the basket after he read the brief message. 'Well played, Reigns.' He wasn't sure what the hell that was supposed to mean, whether Heyman was pissed about AJ or The Viper, or if it was just more cryptic bullshit. Quite frankly Roman couldn't bring himself to give a tenth of a shit. Tonight was a night for celebration.

Even Mr. Helmsley and his wife Stephanie made an eventual appearance, surprising the hell out of everyone. They didn't normally leave the high rise district to play with the riff-raff, but apparently Irwin Schyster had made it abundantly clear that he wasn't missing 'The Empire Holiday Revue'. Roman liked the sound of the elaborate title, but he was far more pleased with the way Hunter and Stephanie looked at everything.

Stephanie seemed ready to jump out of her skin, watching Santa-Mick make his jolly rounds with narrowed eyes. That is, until Sami slid a fresh toddy garnished with a lemon wedge across the bar and offered her a soft, “how are you tonight, ma'am?” Few people could resist the charm of Sami Zayn.

Hunter went straight to Ambrose, slapping him on the back and asking him how he was, “still working at that dump, huh kid?” Helmsley was a ruthless businessman but that was as far as he reached, reportedly having turned down numerous collaborations with Heyman. Though the old Kliq Club going out of business may have been helped along by a few bad deals on the side of The Triple H Corporation. Roman never understood why Hunter hadn't tried to buy him out on the property, but he figured he should probably just count his blessings and leave it at that.

Cass, Jericho and Styles had a special couple of things planned for the night, and it was a hell of a show. Apparently Regal's boys had been practicing with them in secret. Roman whooped as loud as everyone else when 'young' Tyler performed a strongman act that was flawless, the final cartoonish flex of his muscles and twirl of his well-kept mustache more than enough to light the place up. The wink he threw to Stephanie Helmsley certainly didn't hurt. Pete and Trent were a hit as well, ending their own short routine with an impressive (but not indecent) amount of clothing gone. Pete even got to keep his jacket! Roman looked to where Regal was sitting, a little worried that the older man might be upset with his employees. But William looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself, a smile quirking the scar on his lip.

Roman wasn't sure when the goddamn Phenom, Undertaker himself had showed up at his club, he just knew that at one point he turned around and saw Sami chatting amiably with the large, black-cloaked figure. Granted, Christmas Eve and Day were usually considered truce days among The Family and The Acolytes, but Roman would prefer if the monsters kept to their realms. His preferences apparently fell on deaf ears. Demon Balor nodded cordially to him from a shadowy corner far from the muted lights of the stage, eyes glowing unnaturally. Beside him sat none other than the masked Empress Of Tomorrow, her flowing robe immaculate.

Roman had the sneaking suspicion that perhaps the boilerplate might need to be replaced after tonight's party. His suspicions were confirmed when Baron sidled up to him and muttered, “basement.” Sure enough, the thick metal had been removed so forcibly that it was embedded in the ceiling. No huge hand prints though, thank fuck, just a scorch mark in the middle of it. Undertaker.

Reigns sighed and took another sip of his drink. “Fuck it. It'll wait until tomorrow.” He said finally. “Nothing will happen tonight.”

“Are you sure?” Baron's concern was touching and Roman was a little too drunk for that, especially since Baron had made it abundantly clear that all Roman was to him was a check-signer.

“Do you really think they wandered in through the front door?” Roman retorted. “Owens would never let them in without a fight and they know that. It's too late now, Baron. What we get to do now is leave their preferred door open and hope that jolly old Saint fucking Mankind can work his magic to keep things mellow.”

“Shit man, I don't know how you do it.” Baron admitted after a moment of silence. “I feel like I'm walking on eggshells up there and you're just sliding around, dealing with legends and shit.”

“I grew up here, Baron. You get used to it. The fucking mystique wears off and you're left with the tarnished bullshit of worn-out tricks and maybe, maybe, a few legitimate monsters.” Roman tipped his glass towards the other man. “Liquid courage helps.”

“I guess fucking so.” Baron grinned at him, all white teeth and eyes crinkling at the edges and fuck, Roman was so fucked if he didn't get his ass back upstairs and away from him. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Baron looked nervous again, his back straight and whole body tight. “Hey uh, boss? Can I ask something?” He mumbled, focusing on his hands.

Oh no. Roman felt his heart start to thunder in his chest. Oh no, oh no. “Yeah, what's up?” His brain was apparently still on the 'pretend everything is fine' setting.

“D-do you...uh, does The Empire have a policy on relationships? I mean, Zayn and Owens are married and stuff, so they would be exempt, but you didn't seem too upset about Styles going after Jericho. I'm just...I need to know.” Baron's face hardened at the end of his ramble and he crossed his arms.

“Oh.” Roman said weakly, his heart screaming not me, not me, I'm the guy who signs his checks, remember? “I don't...I m-mean, there's no official policy in place, Corbin. I expect professionalism, and who you do is kind of your own business, you know? I uh...you and Big Cass, huh? That's cool, man. I'm happy for you.” Roman managed to force the trite phrase out before he lost his nerve completely.

Baron's shoulders slumped. He seemed disappointed for some reason that Reigns couldn't wrap his mind around. “I...I'd better get back outside. Gotta' keep the place safe. S'what I'm here for, right?” His tone was bitter and Roman's drunk brain remembered that he'd been outside in the cold for most of the evening.

“Hey wait, take a break, eat. Get a drink from Sami before you go. Warm up.” He insisted, unable to stop his hand before he laid it on Baron's arm. “Did you have any of Mick's spaghetti? He says it's seasoned with hunger, that's why it always tastes so good.” Roman had no idea why he was still talking. Corbin obviously had shit to go do (like Cass his mind supplied helpfully). “Sorry, I uh. Sorry. Head up there and. Um. Food.” He apologized, flushing and removing his hand.

Baron fixed him with a look that had Roman squirming, and not exactly in discomfort. “Reigns,” Baron began, then muttered, “Shit, just forget about it.”

Baron was halfway up the fucking stairs when Reigns' drunk ass decided to react. “Forget about what, Corbin?” He shouted louder than he meant to, making Baron freeze.

“I fucked up.” The taller man answered quietly. “Please just...never mind. Go back to the party, Reigns.”

Just forget about it. Roman ended up sleeping in the cellar, curled up next to the gaping hole in the floor. And if he cried, well, he was very drunk so that made it alright. Brave and strong Roman Reigns. Just forget about it.

He woke up with an aching head and a shiny new boilerplate hatch over the hole. A black and purple bow was stuck to the top of it and Roman couldn't help the raw laugh that he let out. Merry Christmas to me.

…

January and February passed in their usual gray, slushy blur. Come March, Baron dragged out his bike and started prepping for his eventual departure. He didn't really talk to Roman anymore, not like how he had before the holiday party. Always brief, polite. Very much the employee, no longer the friend.

It hurt, but Roman understood. He hoped that Cass and Baron had some sort of system worked out, maybe a long distance relationship via Skype. Either that or it had just been about the sex. They didn't really act couple-y, so Roman wasn't too sure. And it really wasn't any of his business, so he sure as hell wasn't about to ask.

The knock came in the wee hours of the morning, waking Reigns up from his usual pile of liquor orders and electric bills. “Come in.” He groaned, not bothering to raise his head from the desk.

“Boss, I'm leaving.” Roman watched dully out of the corner of his eye as Baron's legs shifted his weight back and forth. “Weather's finally good. I can make decent miles.” Baron cleared his throat. “I uh. Thank you. For taking me on.”

“No problem.” Roman replied, still not moving his head as he pulled open one of the drawers in his desk. “Here, s'last check. For gas. Food.” He waved the envelope in the air.

“Boss...”

“Don't fucking 'boss' me, Corbin. You pretty much single-handedly got The Viper behind bars, which is no damn small feat. If only for that, okay?” Roman shut his eyes as a large hand closed around his own, Baron removing the envelope after a second too long. “You've been a big help around here, man. I know Cass will miss you. Sure there's no way I can get you to stay?” Roman finally looked up, false cheer dying as he saw the stony look on Corbin's face.

Baron turned to leave. “It wasn't fucking Cass.” He grumbled.

“Well it sure as shit wasn't me either.” Roman had no idea where the hell that came from, flinching when Corbin whipped back around.

“The fuck did you just say, Reigns?” Baron's voice was deadly low.

“I-I...” Roman hated his fucking stammer, the way his voice died on him. He was trying so hard just to keep it together and he didn't need this shit. Ever the brave, strong Roman Reigns he thought bitterly.

“Shows how much you fucking know, I guess.” Corbin slapped the envelope back onto Roman's desk, planting his fists on the wood to pin it there. “Dammit Reigns, why the hell do you have to make this so fucking difficult?”

“Difficult?” Roman was thoroughly confused once again. I thought I was making this shit easier.

Baron glared at him for a few breathless seconds and then growled in frustration, “Forget it!”, threw his hands up and left.

…

The old fairgrounds housed nothing but an overabundance of memories for Roman. Before his father had gotten so sick, they would visit sometimes, to ride on The Spinnarooni. Roman only just recalled poking his nose over the edge of the Ferris wheel cab for the first time, the way his stomach had dropped to his shoes when he saw how high up he was. But his father was there to tuck Roman's face into his side, laughing and calling him brave beyond his years. “So much courage in your heart, my son!”

It hadn't felt like courage in quite a while. It felt like a damn rock. It felt like The Beast's fists and it felt like guilt and it felt like just forget it.

Roman kicked a pebble over the edge of the crumpling cement jetty at the far end of the fairgrounds, watching as it sank out of sight beneath the trash-choked water. Summer made the ground waver in the heat and Roman wondered for a crazy second if trying to become a mirage was easier than dealing with his dumb, courageous heart. If it was so full of courage why the hell did it falter at every little thing?

Soft footsteps alerted him to Mite's approach before they drew up alongside him, a hand taking his own and tugging him back from the frail side of the jetty. “Don't worry, it's not deep enough here.” Roman tried for a joke but it sounded a lot more grim when he said it out loud. Mite shook their head and frowned, pointing in the other direction. Towards the city. They still weren't much for talking but Reigns could guess. Go home, Roman. “Why?” He asked. “It isn't like Kevin and Sami can't handle The Empire without me.”

Mite's face somehow got even more stern. Go home, Roman. He finally relented, letting himself be mobilized to return to reality. Getting lost in the past wasn't exactly doing him any favors, after all.

The motorcycle parked outside The Empire stopped Roman dead, and Mite patted his hand comfortingly. Then, before Roman could even react they fucking bolted, abandoning him to stand slack-jawed in the road for another minute or two.

He came back.

That courageous heart of Roman's was weary and bruised but not shattered yet, slamming against his ribs as he circled around back. He almost bumped Corbin's chest when the taller man rounded the corner. “Reigns, thank fuck.” Baron pushed a small, rectangular parcel into Roman's hands, then grabbed his jaw gracelessly and kissed him hard. “Forgive me, for fuck's sake please forgive me.” Corbin begged, pressing their foreheads together. “I'm an ass. I'm the biggest fucking dickhead. I hurt you and all I had to do was fucking talk to you, I'm so fucking--”

“Wait, wait.” Roman panted, still a little out of breath from the kiss and oh my God, he came back. “Are you staying?”

Baron nodded furiously.

The space in the upper area of The Empire was mostly for storage purposes, but Roman had cordoned off a small section for his bed and a single chair. It was here that he sat to open the parcel, Baron pacing nervously while he did. It was a stack of postcards, five of them. Roman's brow furrowed and he flipped the first one (Kansas) over.

I'm an idiot. I'm an idiot and the worst part is knowing I'm an idiot. I'm an idiot for leaving. I'm an idiot for hurting you. I'm an idiot for writing this shit out on my spare postcards but I don't have any real paper. I'm an idiot for writing this shit out like you're going to read it, like you'll even give me the time of fucking day. You don't have a mean bone in your body, but you giving me a chance is the last thing I deserve.

Florida came next and the lump in Roman's throat grew.

I didn't realize how hard it was for you. I didn't understand until that night with that motherfucker, that Viper guy. He was fucking ranting and you just started shuddering all over your body. I don't know if you even knew you were doing it. You looked like you were going to pass out. The shit that guy said made me want to kill him, how he talked about hurting you like it was a thing to be proud of. Normally I've got a pretty decent hold on myself, but the way you reacted...I lost my cool in the worst way and I'm so sorry. I don't really do hugs, I'm not good at them.

Roman put the postcards down for a second, huffing in a breath to try and calm himself. He had nightmares about that night sometimes, about what would have happened if Baron Corbin hadn't cracked his stubborn head into The Viper's without a thought for his own safety.

Georgia was next in the pile but Corbin tipped his chin up, searching Roman's eyes. “Are you alright?” He asked quietly, one hand cupping the back of Roman's neck. Careful, so careful.

“Not really, no.” Reigns admitted shakily. “I'm supposed to be brave and strong, Baron. But it gets really damn hard and God, I'm fucking tired.”

“Can I help?” Fingers moved down the skin of Roman's arm, following the zigzags of his traditional tattoo. “Let me help.”

“I don't know if you can, Baron. If you leave again, I don't-”

“I'm never leaving again.” Baron insisted.

“Yeah? Convince me.” Roman growled. “Because as I recall, when you left last time not even the guy who signed your checks could get you to stay.”

“I know. But I didn't come back for that guy.” Baron's eyes softened. “I came back for the busted-up guy with the badass sleeve of ink and the heart of fucking gold. I came back because I'm an asshole and I missed you.”

I missed you.

“When you told me to forget it...”

“I'm bad at shit. I'll get better at shit.” Baron kissed Roman's forehead. “I promise you that.”

Roman felt his resolve crumpling, hands already pitifully tangled in the fabric of Baron's tight shirt. “I missed you too.”

“Christ, I hoped you would.” Baron murmured. “I'm so damn sorry, Roman.”

“I don't know what to do, Corbin.” Reigns confessed helplessly after letting himself be held for a few minutes. “Everything is just so heavy all the time, I don't know how to handle it anymore.” It was both terrifying and a relief to say out loud. “I used to be so damn strong, Baron. Nothing could phase me.”

“You're still strong. Guilt and grief fucking cheat when you're having good days and it makes them feel a thousand times heavier on your bad days. Let me take care of you.” Baron pressed Roman to lay down on his back, the taller man smiling at him. “You don't need to be strong here. You can just be you. It's alright.”

Roman covered his face, groaning, “Fuck, I want to believe your bullshit.”

“S'not bullshit.” Baron lifted the hem of Reigns' t-shirt and pressed a kiss to his stomach. “How can I convince you? Pet names? Flowers and chocolates? Help with the paperwork? How about a ride on the Lone Wolf?”

Roman peeked out suspiciously from in-between his fingers. “Is that a euphemism or did you seriously name your motorcycle?”

Baron hummed. “Might be both. You'll have to wait and see.” Roman's laugh felt rusty but good, especially when Baron joined in. Roman tugged at Baron's shirt and the other man quickly stripped his vest and shirt off for him. It had always been easier when Roman didn't have to ask with his words. Baron seemed to understand that, smoothing the hair back from Roman's face. “Christ, Roman, I'm so sorry.” He murmured. Roman fumbled out of his shirt and Baron sucked in a breath, large hands greedily mapping out the new area with single-minded purpose. “Fucking shit, Reigns.” Fingers ran over the scarred patch on his side where Roman had been burned on the hunt for Dean. “I'll keep you safe from now on. Nobody will ever do this to you again.”

Roman wanted to believe him, and that might have been the scariest thing of all. Corbin made him feel safe, like he was actually worth protecting. It should hurt because Roman was still guilty, but Baron was being so careful. The couple of times Roman had hooked up with other men had been lackluster. He'd wanted it to hurt. Not because he liked it, but because it should, it was what he deserved and what he was familiar with. People were willing and so was he, who cared if he didn't get off on it? Roman knew it was the only thing he had earned and while he wasn't happy he was pretty fucking resigned to it.

As Baron unbuckled his pants and dragged his boxers down Roman tried to relax. This was the hard part, the part when Baron would shatter all the pretty words he'd said about no one ever hurting him again. Roman knew all the ways to move to make it seem like it was good, like he was enjoying himself, “I'm just not hard because it's an off night.” The sooner this part was over with, the sooner Baron could get back to saying kind, gentle things to him and hopefully not leaving again because he was disappointed.

Reigns didn't realize he'd closed his eyes until he heard Corbin asking him to open them. He obeyed, feeling a weight settle on his thigh as he did. Corbin was in between his legs, cheek resting on Roman's thigh. Roman's cock was barely half-hard, obviously not on board with the plan and Baron seemed perturbed. “Reigns, if you don't want to do this we don't...I mean, I did kind of just blow in here so I-”

“No I do! I do!” Roman said quickly, too quickly, propping himself up on his elbows. It's an off night for me.

Baron's eyes narrowed. Normally, people were really invested in getting Roman to flip over onto his belly so they could give him what he asked for. Baron, however, was really invested in sucking Roman's dick. Which shot all of Roman's plans out of the water. That didn't hurt and Roman didn't really know what to do with himself because Christ, Corbin was good at that but he didn't deserve it and also Baron was teasing. Corbin seemed perfectly content to do nothing but kitten lick Roman's cock until the sun came back up, fingertips barely brushing the base. Roman found himself getting legitimately hard and he threw an arm over his eyes, hopelessly turned on and at total war with his guilt.

“Look at me, Roman.” Corbin ordered for the second time that evening. “I don't know why the hell you're letting me do this if you're not planning on enjoying it.”

“I can't, s-shouldn't.” Roman hated how his voice was already cracking.

“You're allowed to enjoy shit, Reigns.” Baron reprimanded him gently. “I can be strong tonight, okay? It's your night off. It's not wrong to like what I'm doing to you. It's not bad to like what I'm doing to you.”

“But I--”

“No buts. I want you coming and screaming my name at some point before sun up. Other than that, I think I'm pretty flexible.” Baron shrugged. “Until you believe me. Until you're comfortable. I don't care how long it takes. Because you deserve it, okay?”

Roman felt the weight in his chest finally ease and he was pretty sure he almost broke Baron's nose with his pelvis when he rolled forwards to hug him tightly. “Fuck, I missed you so much.”

“I've thought about doing this to you so many damn times, taking you apart and making you fucking shake in my lap.” Baron said fiercely, like he was trying to convince Roman. His fingers closed around Roman's cock for the first time and Roman keened into Baron's shoulder, hips arching up of their own accord. “Fucking touch me already, Reigns. I know you want to.” Baron begged. “Let me help, dammit, be fucking weak and greedy for me. I've got you.”

Roman flushed (he didn't know why, Baron's hand was on his cock for fuck's sake) and Baron made a helpless noise of want, rubbing his groin against Roman's thick thigh. When Reigns finally reached out his hand and shakily touched Baron's chest it was like he couldn't stop, yanking Corbin even closer and burying his face in the other man's neck. Corbin's excited sounds spurred Roman on more than he wanted to admit, his hands growing bolder by the second as Baron praised him quietly, reminded him that this wasn't wrong.

Baron's tattoos were fascinatingly vibrant where Roman's were monochrome, and Reigns found himself with his palm firmly planted on the taller man's inked heart, fingers digging into the skin hard enough to make Corbin grin at him. “Shit, shit, wait.” Baron finally panted, tugging Roman's other hand away from his zipper. “I can't yet, gotta' calm down.”

“But I--” Baron's kiss cut Roman off and Reigns growled into the taller man's mouth as he came all over his fist. Roman sank his teeth into Corbin's lower lip and the other man groaned embarrassingly loud.

“Fuck, I'm going to love this.” Baron licked his fingers criminally slow, seeming intent on getting every last drop. “M' gonna' open you up, make you beg for me.”

Roman expected it to hurt now but Baron made good on his word, taking his damn time as he prepared Roman's body for him. Thick fingers sloppy with lube stretched him, slowly one after the other and Roman found himself hard and leaking again by the time Baron was finally satisfied, the taller man allowing Roman the privilege of peeling his tight pants down his thighs. The tattoos continued on the skin there and Roman dimly noticed the one that said 'Farm Your Keep' in flowing script above Baron's knee.

Baron urged Roman up over him, hand gripping the base of the condom firmly after he slid it down over his cock. “I want to watch you. Take as much as you want, but let's just say I really hope you're interested in more than one round.” His knowing smirk bordered on insufferable.

Roman felt greedy and weak, his entrance over-slick and aching for what Baron had promised hotly in his ear while he crooked his fingers inside him. Baron had been patient, much more patient than Roman believed he needed to be. He wouldn't break for fuck's sake. Hadn't yet.

Baron's sound when Roman finally slid the head of his cock past his entrance was amazing, a low, heartfelt groan that threatened to make Roman come on the spot. Reigns being on top allowed him to decide exactly when Baron would get more or less of him and the power was dangerously heady. He ended up with his hands covering the swallows on Baron's chest, bracing his body weight easily as he carefully lowered himself down.

Corbin's hands cupped Roman's jaw, thumbs rubbing over the other man's facial hair. “You ever done it like this before?” Baron asked through clenched teeth, his smirk popping back up when Roman shook his head. “Always from behind, right? Hurts less that way, they don't have to see your face and you don't have to see theirs.” Baron was apparently a goddamn mind reader.

“Y-Yeah.” Roman stammered, finally coming to a stop. He sucked in a shaky breath, trying to force his body to adjust quicker to the intrusion.

But Baron was having none of it, a hand firmly gripping Roman's thigh to keep him from moving. “When you're ready, Reigns. Feels good to me no matter what, so when you're ready.” Corbin reassured him quietly, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“You'd better not.” Roman choked out. “I'll fucking hunt you down if you do and sign your face with my fist.”

Corbin ran his fingers over Reigns' inked arm, a smile softening his features. “That's fair, especially with how I left. Christ, I missed you so much. Wanted you like this from the first time I saw you on door duty at your own fucking club. You're handsome enough to be inside on stage and yet here you were owning the damn building, wrinkling your beautiful face worrying, working your fingers to the bone on forms and shit.” Roman ducked his head a little self-consciously but Corbin caught his chin. “Nope, eyes up.” Baron murmured. “Be greedy. Be weak for me.”

“I'm trying. It's...” Roman trailed off, rocking his hips back and forth against Baron's. Corbin's cock dragged over his spot suddenly and Roman's body stiffened. Oh-! Beneath him, Corbin let out a fucking growling noise that made Roman shudder, Baron's hand moving to press to the continuation of ink on Roman's chest. “Baron, fuck.” Reigns finally sobbed, unable to keep quiet anymore when gentle fingers soothed his messy hair back from his face. “Fuck, Baron, fuck.” He felt dumb but his brain couldn't figure out anything else to say as Baron rolled his hips up hungrily. “I'm trying, I promise, j-just--”

“Shh, you're fine.” Corbin grinned at him, making the worry in Roman's stomach ease off a bit. “Jesus Christ, you are so damn fine. Look at you go, I'm gonna' make you come so hard.” Baron tugged a spare elastic off his wrist and then proceeded to quickly rake Roman's dark locks back into a haphazard ponytail. “Wanna' see you when you do, want to watch your face.”

“God, please--” Roman's prayers were answered when Corbin wrapped his hand back around his cock. “Oh! Fuck, Corbin!” The moan felt like it was ripped out of him but it was so damn good, so right.

“That's the idea, yeah.” Baron grunted, winking when Reigns tried to give him a stern look. “Don't even bother, man. I can feel you getting all tight around me so it's a lost damn cause.”

“Are you close?” Roman panted, closing his eyes as Baron nodded jerkily and quickened his hand on Roman's dick. “Never come while someone else was fucking me.” His groin ached with the closeness of his orgasm, Roman ducking his head so he could touch his forehead to Baron's. It had never been like this before. Reigns felt hot and good all over his body, his heart seemingly trying to beat its way out of his chest.

“Their fucking loss.” Baron snarled through his teeth. “You deserved so much better.”

“Shit, I hope so.”

“I know so.” Baron cupped the back of his neck, kissed him hard and that was all it took. Roman cried out when he came again, his hands balling into fists on Baron's chest as he shuddered and rocked his hips weakly. “Fuck's sake, Reigns--” Baron dug his fingers into the skin of Roman's hips, thrusting up into him fiercely and off-tempo before finally coming to a stop with a loud, satisfied moan.

Now he leaves. Roman didn't want the thought but was gone as quickly as it arrived because Baron almost immediately dragged him down to lay on his chest, fingers stroking carefully over Roman's hair. Reigns closed his eyes, relaxing into the other man's grip against his better judgment.

“It's only about a thousand degrees up here, huh?” Baron whispered after several silent minutes had gone by. “I mean, I figured I would work up a sweat anyway, but shit.”

Roman swatted him on the ribs, making the taller man yelp. “You deserve to suffer in the hell garret for the shit you pulled.” Roman scolded, reaching over to turn on the air conditioner.

Baron smiled good-naturedly, crossing his arms behind his head. “Very true. How many more times should we bang, do you think, before you forgive me?”

“Depends on whether you'll leave after you get me to forgive you.” Roman fidgeted with the slick mess on his stomach, reaching for his t-shirt to wipe it off. But Baron caught his hand.

“I'm not leaving if you don't want me to, Reigns.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Hey, hey.” Baron's voice dropped a little when Roman teared up. “Shit, don't do that. I'm so ugly when I cry. If you start, I'm gonna' start, and it's just going to be a fucking nightmare. Buck up, Reigns, you're stuck with my ass.”

“Really?” Roman asked.

Baron nodded, brown eyes crinkling at the edges when he smiled again. “You're getting the worse end of the deal here, man, but I'm willing to swap off if you get me a little drunk beforehand.” Baron's offer made Reigns snort in a somewhat-undignified manner.

He knocked his forehead against Baron's a little harder than before, to let him know he was serious. “Never again, got it?” He meant for it to sound firmer, like an order.

Baron seemed to understand though. “Yeah, I got it. I promise.”

I promise.

Activate (Strong Style)

#Holy shit this is long #thirst party saturday #roman reigns/baron corbin #roman reigns smut #baron corbin smut #roman reigns #baron corbin #wwe au #AU: Suplex City #WWE #hurt/comfort #happy birthday to me

[throwingideasatthewall]

Clone wars    Eminence

      Okay. .    

      Hey emotion            ?

       ?        ?          Vsla

   (What is a        Vizsla?)

    Enabler          Vs           Aggressive          Non-         Compliant            Un-accou               n-t             able-               -             Enabler-

        Souls

      [Ok I’m trying to keep track       here;

      (Because I do try to follow the stories              in case they become           some thing              even when they are in the             -0              cate             -gory-

        - Yoda’s generation

       -Qui- Gon’s     generation             Dooku’s 

       -Obi-wan

      -Anakin’s generation

      -  Ahsoka

       [I am not counting the feckin young-lings”]

         Okay dude seems around Obi-Wan but below                   Both him and Saltine

         - Higher than Anakin though            So,

      -Yoda’s generation

      -Qui- Gon’s     generation            Dooku’s

      -Obi-wan

          - This dude                    (Pre Visla)

     -Anakin’s generation

     -  Ahsoka

     Now Maul;

        He seemed younger than Obi-Wan           but older than Anakin

     So;

      -Yoda’s generation

     -Qui- Gon’s     generation           Dooku’s

     -Obi-wan

         - This dude                  (Pre Visla)

          -Maul

    -Anakin’s generation

    -  Ahsoka

   So just for the record, Ahsoka’s generation        which is now an adult over 22,          Is dealing with      Anakin‘s generation           ....

       [Ok going to guesstimate regarding behavior,]

     Is directly Obi-Wan‘s

         [But they were two generations              under Obi-Wan

           Pre-Visla; acting as some kind a                Brother generation

                - Maul; Youngest                                    Brother   

               -Savage; ?

     So,         [  -Yoda’s generation ]         [   -Qui- Gon’s     generation          Dooku’s ]

    [    -  Obi-wan                               - This dude                        } (Enablers)                  (Pre Visla)                           -Maul  

             -Anakin’s generation ]                    -  Ahsoka (Present)

               (Ok you know what       I’m breaking out the colored markers                   for this shit)

        -Yoda’s generation                    [Enabler]           (Progenitor                      to                Qui-Gon’s                        /                       Dooku)

                 |             -Qui- Gon’s    generation            Dooku’s                        (Progenitor                    To               Obi-wan)                     |

      -  Obi-wan                              |         - This dude  (Pre Visla)                         |             (Younger)                          |           [Brother gen]                         |                 To                     |            Obi- wan

               |           -Maul                       |             (You                     |                nger                     |                Gen)

               |        [As in born before not that they are the same species                    |           though if                  |        someone fecks up the galaxy-  everyone has to deal with it]

               |           - Savage                    |               [You                    |                nger                        |                  Gen]

      -Anakin’s generation 

     Ahsoka (How)

     note I am ignoring that bit about Plagueis            Because no

       And going on the direct            apprentice line-

         [which note          I am aware                may ignore           several possi-                 bilities-

              Including Qui-gon and Obi-wan’s                      Gen poss                        -ib                          ly,                         are                           bro.                              Because of                    convenience,

                       [Which is why I am ignoring the Plaguies           thing-

       Because if serious is that old it’s really implying that someone that is old enough to be Anakin’s Great great grandfather, did that,          The nonsense applied in the whole midclorians to create          life thing          (Consent??)                 And my general disregard for           anything that illuminates the opportunity of choice or             feckin’ realism;

       Now if you’ll look at the chart;

         [I NOW UNDERSTAND WHY THEY HAVE A             NO CHILDREN POLICY-  no                attach-ments-]

              Note that means there have been (at least)                   four [distinct] generations in play

              *are

               [ ANd NONE of these fuckers die of natural causes                       [Aka old age]

                Unless you count getting run through by a light sword!

                 [HoW]

                 [”oh yeah the galaxy’s un-balanced,”

                   Cause you have so many fecking kids-]

                  Apologies just had to get that out of my system                         [After making the damn chart]

                  We struggle                        at three,

      Like if I have to bring out the colored markers         I think that’s too many

           I mean you can try      but it’s going to be a hell of a time        [For the writers]             justifying         how the core-

     Point being           it’s a mess-

    [ And I’m doing this just to figure out a conversation           -The generational beef       - The morality           - because yeah while they’re both           enablers, The tox            instigator, clearly has lower ground to their          victim,

       Who was tox           first,

        Who has the advantage

         [One of the things that make a Narc conflicts,            a bit          of risk,               The only thing I can with our Narcs so poorly       established,         Including           their          excessives             And weak              nesses]

          And whether I should boo or               cheer,

             Or some thing as a good line or.             poor

             [because I honestly think the line they’re doing here can work and maybe I didn’t need the chart but it makes it a bit easier and gives an understanding of how I’m comparing,

             Because. .]

             “ if they are weak                  why do you wait,”

              Because from a victim or younger generation that’s a pretty                    potent/poignant line              

From an abuser        its tone deaf     and needs more        malician                  -              Personally I think they did a good job with        Pre-viz         -here

        He’s the right kind of tone of someone stuck in their glory days trying to get the      younger generation to enable him a bit more regardless of the cost,]

   [Power-ful allies

     Haha,

     What allies           [That didn’t-           Betray              Her,]

            -

       [Kenobi]

       [HaHa]

       [i’m sorry but regardless when the writers, pull it out of the        randomness hat,  he’s a punk ass bitch

                          [Excuse me                     for overuse of that term                                  I strictly mean it in the                             derogatory non-                                 identification                                                 Way                                 Meaning,                     Un accountable in terms of fighting and self-defense of his pro              -fessed expertise]

                     [and occasionally in self-determination against peer pressure and threats far above or below his skill level]

                     Specifically, the Jedi Council

[continu          ing        on,”        ]

                        [Ventress]

             Exile

  [you’ve been allegedly exiled      so many times it’s a bingo card,       ]

   (Also     instead of locking them up]

     (Like I might’ve missed a few points         due to tox           But,             She didn’t just send them back to exhile where they started fecking with the shit

    Did she?

    I got as far as the juice thing then

    Fast-pasted through the Academy

            (No skim)

     So sorry       if anything was missed

       (But tox)

         ?

        [that was a suddenly              softer tone,]

         But              fair,

          A-ll

          Count                 Dooku-

              Dude,                    he just didn’t [rabidly] support your small little fan club              that couldn’t do much

       And [last I checked],                  Just told             you not to do                    a thing,

            Like yeah      might’ve been      relatively        poor advice but what were you          expecting-

       -

     [Tone’s           a bit weird]

      But she       has a point,

      Despite the          uneven-                ?

   [that’s a strangely powerful way to keep him           intact]

         Though              not-               -

       To vote,

    Also,

     Who,

    Why?

      ?   [In all truth, while the expressions were         a bit off,  (I assume benefit of the doubt - illustrators       version-).         That that could’ve been a relatively poignant scene,          a (we totally      got him             To            Enable                  Our                War-              between              Two            Enablers.]

          How is      Savage taking less time than        Maul?

      [is it cause made out of             metal?

       Is it because        Savage is bigger?]

    [Also you know what would’ve been             interesting?]

       [Note, interesting              not better; it’s        perfectly serviceable                  as is;

       [Completely aesthetic]

      If Maul had been “threatened” into the            death watch,

         With Savage              as the chip,

��     And feigned

            [Possibly having to be t-alked back into it                                                                      - cause                 I mean he                      died]

              Just interesting,

                ?

               Oh yeah that has been pretty fucked up for him considering the last time he was on anything resembling an operating table,

                [also I kind of like the idea of Maul as                     (for now) a nicer Sith Lord than                    his master,             )

        ?          ?            [Despisi ng                    the                  enabler,                     But other than my       assum.                  What is actually their in-              tention?

            Because they don’t seem to really have a plan                   other than               destroy things,

             And even that is inconsistent

             Too late. .

              (I understand murder. .

               But that wasn’t really set up)

    )

             ?

              Oh yeah approaching the clearly       ag-gressive             per-            sion              -              With an entourage               -                In the hospital              -                 With his             injured brother/                 mor-alty                      pet)

                 Good                       job                      smart                        guy          this would in no way put him on                          edge,

                      E-r                      [Not                          sure                         about                        that,                               ]                              ?                            -                            [that was kind of                     funny]                     ,

                “Name                  -s,”

                 [They going to make something         up ?]

                “Brothers”                            - that was a very                           specific                               word                            choice,

                      Duc-hess

                        (Oh -yeah             he brought that up in the conversation-

                        “Army,”

                        [Please                          no more                            pirates,]

                      (Also yeah                          trying to force peoples opinions to change  (for                       (Corr    that always works out                               upt)                        well,)

                          ?

                      (Are we going to get     dr     -oids)

                    “Black sun,”

                      Aight-                           Gang,

      “But there a crime syndicate,”                  Whin-                  ed the guy,                     Leading a (death)                       cult,  

                    (Like I’m pretty sure they have done worse in this originated as some kind of crime syndicate/                        Espionage within                      the government-                           -]                     ?

        Dude            they’re cannon           get it together,                    -                  Oh so just             black dealing]

                   ?

                    -                                         ?

                  [Is                       prisoner                           ]                      

                     ?                   Attack,

                      -                           Or                        Assemble/                         En-tourage                              -                                ?                               - -                         -?                             [Ok so just a show of                                 strength,]                                      -                                         ?                                      -                                “ what a                        stupid crime syndicate,’                                      .                               Like;                                 “I want to talk to your boss                       about possibly becoming business partner(s)                         lucrative opportunity for both of us,                                    doing business                                        but sketchy,”

                                   [Willing to participate in your     black market              op]

                                “ he’s gonna                                      kill you,”

         ? ??

                                      [Like you do       realize that’s like going to a        - bank, [for a loan] and the            door              guy                   Threate-ning you             with                 death                 -                      Like how do you stay in           business?

      [Like, don’t care     much for either practice,

     Just don’t see why they don’t go to the non-threateny guy      over there-

      ?

    [Like I’m sorry but that was just a laughable way of         establishing         t         hrea            -t            -           Bad-assery             -           And I think [it got let off-      way         too light-        -”          -             ?           -          Okay              -         seriously-         [’ The One-      species              evil,’ is really starting to grind my gears       One whole generation of a species decided to go into purely only      crime syndicate,

   Al-one-

     :            The background

      Kind             -a             Hot-             -            Now             -     -                -      This is some nice        sc         ene          r         y-         -             I like the       Gold-

       -            The          the outfits-

       What?              -           [

                                                                                                                               ]  [Note;  I can understand not wanting to fall into the tropes of your Genre,                     But it has to make sense-

                       [How does this-]

                    [excuse me                        while I go into                          depth on this]

   This guy works, crime syndicate  

   AKa organized      illegal dealings,  

    Behind       the government(s)     back-

    There are multiple ways you can do this            (clothing wise)            1. Bure-aucrat;

         Aka the dude’s in the Italian suits,

          Which not only denotes they are dealings of               off brand goods                    (Typically                 not in the country                   of origin]

                  [Place]

                But also                   as their                     role;                    As a bureau               cratic brush                   over-

              Typical-                ly                   Find                     - ing                       this guy                    cover-ing                        up,

         2. Ragg                   -ed

               Dude in                 brown                over               -coat                  Torn-                     -                     His whole thing is looking like an unimpressive citizen allowing him to move with ease-

              With the disadvantage of being                   underestimated-

               Possibly                   works-                   -cargo-                          -                          (That’s also just basic civilian that is generally associated with extremely chaotic and unpredictable allowing you to go more                ways story wise)

                     Point being,                       some function,

                     Mean,

     This dude is gold and gaudy and speaks more of a        barbarian then a black-      dealer

       Crime         Syn-          dicate,

         [and it’s not even gold as in the “I’m better than all you smugglers/crime lords           come at me bro!”

        It simply does not have the       slickness for that,

      No the      scheme,

   [and fine        if you want to do alien fashion you do        alien fashion    but you how to establish that,        (And it’s still really comes back to that        pre-established logic         ,).          Excluding the horn       which I’m assuming       is part of his head,

     Again this is speaking more      War lord than       crime lord,        He really       DOES give off that         Aura,”              -          [Ok yeah this is really the most        out of tune scene,        Giving        me a headache from just the         plain inconsistency,”           -           ?            -       Yeah...  

      no idea what just happened              ...        Pre               Viz-la;                Was staring,                Then Savage was             laughing,  

           Just feckin              holding the             guy-

           And now            there was someone on the floor.                 . .                  [??]                 - -                 Whelp, guess the other        g-uards just stood around and did nothing-                   -                    “Black sun,”                    -                    Despite there being no black in your outfits and 

               we haven’t even seen                  an      in-    signia,

           And I’m starting to think       n-e-ither in their operation

       Seeing as they’      re,          guardy obvious,

     [ pretty          damn          blatant,             Too

       Aigh         h-t-         -          [Again that’s behavior more befitting of a      [War        ]      lord,         -           ?           -           Oh, yeah 

    that bodyguard was just straight up chilling

    No ser-         ious.             -ly;      

Like, I know my boss has ordered me to dispose of you,      I’m real sorry about that,         I can take you          outside if you want            Don’t           be-              Oh.              hey,              hold.                 up-

 Well,       shit

   [Frank       is having a shit        day,             ]

     Like

    (That is.             A.          [Wait       murder’s illegal!,          Exp             ression,    

   [What the hec         -k,

    . . .

   Well,         Shit,     

 No hesitation

     (Bob is           having a shit           ,day

      [He’s           a       greeter,                 ]               .               -              ?

        Really, because we only saw four guys that you killed and that greeting party,

         (That’s still            guerilla warfare             at best;)

         [like seriously unless the               Mandalorian(s) only have like five guards         you’re still going to be        over-powered-                 - -                    <

          Saltine

          ..weak

           So much so that we haven’t even really seen the army-             Just some guys carrying cargo

         And cargo              crat                 e(s?             )

           F-o

        Y-eah,                   One             Vis              -i                on-                 -             C-l

       [H-e’s righ       t   -  dude has no actual       commitment to killing        Sal-        tine,

      This is just some       game,           he’s playing,          While    Maul actually seems interested            in    kicking his abusers               ,               -      Dep-th               -          I mean              -       do either of you?

      [like up to this point       I thought this was some                  Gen beef,                But dude           Talks to         Pre-       Visla-          Like-             -   In that           line,        Like he’s         same Gen,

     Which doe      sn’t match the tone they’ve been         projecting    up to this point,

      Of          Pre-Vizla,           robbed              of        something,

    -

     “Cri-minals,”

   Seriously when did these guys have any qualms about mingling with other petty demeanors?

     For that matter 

   and I don’t usu         -ally sin       compet         ency-

   But this was      right after the        episode where      Darth      Maul    got his ass kicked,

   And continues the major      theme of    inconsistency,

     There is no scale of       escalation-           (Which is fine if you want to do      non-sequential if        you want to do          un-attached          short stories,)

         [Though you should probably have some reference in order to keep the emotional tone con-      sist-      -ent- 

     And approp           -riate,)

    There’s            no        scale         of      power,

      As in I have no idea      who        can beat      who,

    (Not in, ‘they’re equally matched        so it’s up to fate,” tension,

     No,               It’s the writers haven’t established anything

     And whoever wins just wins because        author favoritism,

      Seriously 

       The only two consistent things;

         Obi-Wan constantly gets his ass    kicked,                                                                                                  Unless                                                                                                   the                                                                                                  writers                                                                                                   play                                                                                                 favorites

       And author’s hand is almost always           very clearly shown,

                                                                                               Which                                                                                                     you                                                                                                    don’t                                                                                                       want                                                                                                      me                                                                                                     to see;                                                                                                    As the                                                                                                       audience;

Note; I’m not saying there can’t be    luck; Or that something      existential can’t unbalance       The      circumstance,

    Say one dude is trained in        anti-gravity situations,            One is not,           And the gravity          is flipped off,         Having them flop        around is a          decent          enough     representation,          Setting it       up beforehand       is even better,

    But that’s not       what’s done             here;

    (Not only is there no explanation to the sudden        rise in competency,

     But there’s no          set up)

     And there are          several scenes where it again relies on the concept of        (over) negative assumption,        Believing        the tropes         will carry             it,           Enough to sustain

[Particularly with the Maul      scenes. .]

  Where it’s like they’re saying            “And...

    And what?

   You didn’t       establish       anything,

     There’s       nothing there for you to fall back on

    And,       your menacing moment falls flat

    [When no you have to actually        set that up,]

     You didn’t earn that scene         otherwise,

       [Empty tropes           make for           e-mpty           s-tories-                ]

       Why..?

  [also didn’t he just tell you to       fuck off with      your         plan..       ?

   Well...

  The characters are no longer drywall            the set up and the consistency on the other hand...

          [still damn shaky,]

             Plot wise,

[aweebwrites]

The Monastery Massacre Pt.2

Warning: Dark themes, death and expletives.

___________________

Skylor jolted as she sat up, something feeling off. She looked around and frowned, noticing that the others were missing. She got up slowly, noticing that the room looked different too. Clean and newer. She wasn't foolish enough to go randomly calling when something seems very wrong with this picture. She however very quietly walked towards the exit and slid the door open. There wasn't any snow. Double jeopardy. She looked around before rushing over to the massive gates and pushed at them- but they were locked. Shit. She tried climbing but there was no footing. Maybe she could find something to break the lock… This place had a smithy, right? She swallowed before heading towards the monastery, finding herself walking into the smithy next. How did she get here do quick? She jolted once she heard the loud clanging of metal on metal. She swallowed and reached for a weapon and grabbed it, walking backwards. She kept backing up until she bumped into something.

“You should really watch where you step.” A voice says and she stiffened.

She knew she shouldn't turn around yet she did. Why did she do that? She screamed upon seeing the charred figure standing there, reaching out for her.

____________________

She jolted awake with a scream she quickly bit back, only a whimper escaping. She panted heavily as she looked around before sighing. Everyone was asleep still. It was just a dream. She covered her face with one hand. It's never just a dream… She listened to the wind howling outside which meant the blizzard wasn't over by far. She was tempted to chance it to get the fuck out of this place. This place was the really shit, she knew it. She was trapped here with everyone else. There's always at least one survivor, right? She had to be the one- or last long enough until daylight. Then, blizzard or no blizzard, she was getting the hell out of here. Fuck it, she'll move as far away from this place as possible.

“Couldn't sleep?” She jolted with a gasp and Neuro hushed her.

“Holy shit! What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?!” She snapped at him in a whisper.

“Calm down, be glad it was only me.” Neuro whispered back, looking around quickly.

The air, the energy of this place shifted and the oppressive feeling of doom had woken him up. If he died, he was going to haunt Ash for all of eternity.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Skylor asked quietly, apprehensive now.

Before Neuro could answer, a loud clang echoed and they jolted as the others began to stir at the sound. Another clang sounded. And another. And another. And another. Skylor was white as a sheet because she recognized the sound from her dream.

"Why is my hand wet?" Chamille slurred, looking at it.

She then jolted at another loud bang, latching onto Griffin.

“W-what's that sound?” Griffin stuttered out.

“I don't know and I'm not willing to go find out.” Skylor says, getting up and folding her sleeping bag.

“Where are you going?” Tox asked with an arched brow.

“I'll take my chances with the blizzard.” Skylor says, picking up her bag.

“Agreed.” Neuro says, doing the same.

“Wait…” Chamille says, reaching across Tox and touching Ash's sleeping bag. “Where's Ash? And Shade?” She asked, looking up at them.

A deep chuckle suddenly sounded along with the clanging and Chamille screamed, holding onto Tox tightly.

“Stop suffocating me!” Tox hissed, prying her off. “Obviously those two are trying to scare you idiots.” She huffed as she stood.

“I'll prove it.” She says, walking towards the sounds.

“Good luck with that. We're still taking our chances.” Neuro says and Skylor nodded, both of them heading towards the exit.

“Pussies.” Tox huffed as Griffin and Chamille looked between them.

“I-It’s probably Ash and Shade… We n-need to find them any, r-right?” Griffin says and Chamille nodded, clinging to him.

“Wait for us!” Chamille called out, both of them heading after Tox.

Said green haired misfit looked around boredly as she walked towards the sound. She then came to the end of the building and walked towards the torn paper door. She slid it open and looked around before spotting light coming from the room directly next to it, a shadow hammering something.

“I-it doesn't look like S-Shade's! Or Ash's!” Chamille says, backing away from the exit.

Tox frowned. Sure Ash gelled his hair up but he didn't have enough length to get it that high. But this was a shadow she was talking about. Things are bound to look disproportionate. The hammering stopped and the shadow turned before slowly walking forward. Yeah, that was Ash.

“Very funny Ash.” She said walking out and looking into the next room.

“What?! How'd you know!” Ash scowled, hammer in hand still.

“Your walk. Even slow it looks like you have hot coals in your pants.” Tox says drily.

Twin screams came then and she sighed before peering back into the room she just came from. There, Griffin and Chamille were huddled in a corner as Shade laughed his ass off.

“Look at their faces!” Ash laughed, pointing at them.

“It's not funny! I could have had a heart attack and died!” Griffin yelled at them but they only laughed harder as Tox rolled her eyes.

“Well.” They all jolted, head snapping outside where Skylor and Neuro were standing. “You're about to wish you did.” Neuro says solemnly.

“What are you talking about?” Ash asked with an arched brow.

“Didn't you two went to 'take your chances?” Tox questioned, crossing her arms.

“Oh believe me. We would if we could.” Skylor whispered and they looked at her confused.

“Not only is the gate gone but so is the entire pathway up here.” He says and Skylor nodded her confirmation.

There was silence for a few seconds.

“What kind of bs is that? Look, if you're trying to prank us, you're decades behind.” Ash says with an unimpressed look, crossing his arms.

“The blizzard must be playing with your eyes.” Shade dismissed.

“Well… If you don't believe us, why don't you take a look for yourself?” Skylor says, gesturing to where the were.

“Fine then.” Ash says, walking past them, the others following after.

If they had been paying attention, they would have seen that 'Ash's shadow' never left, even though he did.

________________

All seven of them stood where the gate one was. All that was there now was empty space and a killer drop below. Just for confirmation, Neuro picked up a nearby rock and threw it off. They never did hear it fall.

“So. We're all fucked.” Tox says looking down owlishly.

“And it's all his fault.” Neuro hissed glaring at Ash.

“How the hell was I supposed to know the stories were true!” Ash yelled, panicking.

“How the fuck could you not?! Literally no-one lives anywhere near this place for a fucking reason!” Skylor yelled at him.

“Why the hell did I let you talk me into this?! We're all gonna die!” Shade yelled, hyperventilating.

“Guys…” Griffin whispered and they turned to him. “Where's Chamille?”

____________________

Chamille didn't know when and how she got back inside. She just knew something was there in the shadows.

“I don't want to die…” Chamille whimpered as she curled up in a corner.

'Shh. It's ok.’ A soft voice whispered to her and her head jolted up as she began to cry.

“P-please! I won't say anything! I-if you let me go I'll- I'll never come back! I'll move! I'll do anything!” She yelled, pressing herself further into the corner as she saw a figure in the dark approach her.

'I'll help you.’ The figure spoke, their voice noticeably female says.

“R-really?” Chamille whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks.

‘Let me help you.’ The woman says, visible now.

Her face was noticeably pale, framed by short black and very wet hair. In fact, all of her was wet. Even her maroon clothes. She reached a hand out to her and Chamille hesitated before she took it. Her hand was cold, clammy and so wet. She pulled her up and Chamille found herself in a comforting hug.

'There, there. Everything's ok now.’ She whispered and Chamilke sighed, relaxing in her hold- until her lungs began to feel heavy.

She opened her mouth to ask what was happening but she only spat up water. She couldn't breathe! She struggled against the woman but her hold was tender yet strong. Too strong. She couldn't…

“Chamille?!”

She lost her strength and went limp as more tears poured from her eyes. She didn't want to die...

The door slammed open and the group gasped to see their friend floating, her feet barely touching the puddle of water below her before she suddenly fell like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Chamille!” Tox yelled, rushing over as the others stayed where they were, too terrified to take another step forward. “Her lungs are filled with water!” She gasped and immediately began CPR on her limp friend.

“Come on, come on!” She yelled before blowing into her mouth. “Don't just stand there!” She yelled back at the others who were just watching.

Griffin rushed over then, Neuro too after a moment. He checked her pulse as Tox continued to blow into her mouth, Griffin taking over on compressions.

“You can stop now.” Neuro said as he sat back on his heels. “She's already dead.”

They looked at him before looking down at their friend laying lifelessly on the ground, her eyes glassed over and unseeing.

They never saw Tox cry before that day.

_____________________

‘Isn’t this better?’ Nya whispered to Chamille who looked down at her own body as her friends cried over it.

She looked to the pretty blacknette and smiled.

'Yeah. Now I'm not afraid anymore.’ She says then took her hand and left.

__________________

(Heya! I was gonna just make two parts to this fic but it kinda took the reigns and did what it wanted. So we have Nya dropping in to 'help' Chamille whom I realise is hella ooc. I haven't written the other elemental masters before so it'll take a few tries to get it right. (Also, the cliff thing was totally from silent hill) Look out for part 3!)

#Ninjago #ninjago nya #ninjago jay #ninjago zane #ninjago cole #ninjago kai #ninjago lloyd #ninjago skylor #ninjago elemental masters #ninjago shade #ninjago ash #ninjago neuro #ninjago griffin #ninjago Chamille #ninjago tox #ninjago au #aweebwrites' work

[concussed-to-pieces]

Need; Part Three

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Roman Reigns/Female Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Happy Thirst Party Saturday, everyone! Tagging the usual suspects, @tox-moxley, @oraclegazes, and @hardcorewwetrash. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I have screwed with the lunar calendar for this story, forgive me!

!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains semi-public intercourse.

“Does the full moon affect me?” Roman looked at you like you were crazy. “You seriously interrupted my squats for that? Babe…”

“I was just curious if there was anything to it, you know? It all seems kind of…” You paused, wiping the sweat off your forehead. You had just finished your set and the question had struck you. You didn't expect him to actually stop and answer you right away.

“Silly?” he supplied helpfully.

“I didn’t want to say it.”

“It’s okay.” Roman cracked his neck, making a satisfied noise at the dull pop. “It does have an effect on us, just not like...in the movies or anything. It’s hard to explain. You know the way you feel during a good match?”

You nodded, a smile crossing your face. “I’ve had a lot of good matches, Reigns. I would say I might know.”

Roman laughed, catching you in a sweaty hug and making you squeal when he rubbed the stubble on his jaw across your cheek. “You know what I mean though, right? The way your whole body is just…it’s awake and ready and you feel so keyed up you could probably hear grass growing if you listened hard enough.”

“I was with you until that last part, grass?”

“Figure of speech. Full moon is…I mean, it doesn’t make us stronger or force us to turn or anything, but senses heighten. I could pick you out of a massive room full of people, even with my shit sense of smell. And my hearing…sometimes, it gets so ridiculous that I can hear the blood pounding in whoever I’m up against.” Roman shrugged. “Some guys also claim that the full moon brings out the more aggressive, dominant genes. I personally feel like that’s a surrender of control on their part, but that’s just me.”

“The last thing we need around here is you with more dominant tendencies.” You teased, making him roll his eyes.

“Fuck someone into the mattress one time because another guy was threatening to do it better and suddenly everyone’s a critic.” He huffed.

…

Oh no, oh no.

The words looped through your head as you numbly watched Roman getting Powerbombed onto the ring apron. The impact resounded through the arena and Roman crumpled to the ground on his side, laying there for what seemed like an eternity before you finally saw his chest move again. You felt sick to your stomach, fingers twisting the curtain until it was almost ripping in your hands. You wished that it was all a bad dream, that you would wake up safe in bed with Roman snoring quietly beside you, but the scene continued to unfold.

Kevin and Chris finally dragged Roman back into the ring. The large Samoan was clearly out cold on his feet, slumping to his knees the second they let him go. You bit down on your fist, trying to stifle the terrified scream that fought in your throat.

Owens screamed in his face, “Kevin. Owens. Show!”, hauling him upright and flinging him directly into Jericho's Code Breaker. Jericho pinned him and you prayed for Roman to find something, anything still in him that would let him kick out, but that was it. The match was over. Roman had lost his belt and he probably didn't even know it yet. He hadn't moved of his own volition since the Powerbomb and he continued to just lay there in the ring while Chris and Kevin celebrated.

Bayley was suddenly at your elbow, pulling you carefully away from gorilla position. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” She said softly, wrapping you in a hug.

“You see why he is not as good as me, as Rusev?” For some reason the 'Bulgarian Brute' felt that now was the appropriate time to talk to you. You had noticed him hovering all night, but chosen to ignore him in favor of watching your friends further their careers and impress the crowd.

“Go away, Rusev! Before I tell Lana that you were sniffing around where your nose doesn't belong, again!” Bayley said angrily, puffing up in a threatening manner. “Leave my friend alone!”

“All I am saying is that Rusev would not have lost, Rusev would have gotten back up and kept fighting! Two or ten men, it does not matter!” The large man boasted. “Reigns won the belt from me in a fluke accident, and now it is gone once again. He is a weak man, not worth your time. Not like Rusev!”

“Get lost!” Bayley yelled, “Colin! Enzo!”

Clearly your friends had been waiting to come out of the proverbial woodwork. The towering Colin Cassady poked his head (and most of his upper body) out from a nearby dressing room. “Yeah Bayley?” His eyes narrowed upon seeing Rusev, who went pale. “You! Oh buddy, when I get my hands--'Zo! C'mon, we gotta' kick some ass!”

“I bid you farewell, think about what I said!” Rusev finished hurriedly, bolting with Enzo hot on his heels.

“Don't worry, we'll get him. After what you did for Carm...” Cass trailed off, his large hand patting your shoulder in a comforting manner. “Reigns is a tough bastard. He'll be okay. An' you will too.”

“He'll be okay.” Bayley echoed after Cass left, letting you collect yourself.

You finally stepped back, wiping your eyes. “He tried so hard, Bayley. I-I hope he's alright.” You floundered with your words for a minute while she stood there. “I know the belt is really important to him, and I'm sure he thinks it's important t-to me, but I just hope he's safe.” You admitted, tearing up again. “I really, really just want him to be okay.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Her tone was kind, the hand on your shoulder an anchor as Roman lurched through the curtain with the assistance of two ring medics.

“Ro-!” You began, but quickly shut your mouth when you saw his face. He was obviously still out of it, eyes half-closed and dazed while his legs seemed to be barely cooperating, one foot sluggishly in front of the other.

…

God it hurt, why did it always have to hurt. His spine ached. His ribs ached. His legs, his back, his neck, everything was sore and awful. He never should have agreed to this match, he realized belatedly as he laid next to the ring in an undignified heap. Air finally returned to his lungs after what felt like a century. His consciousness kept fading in and out, little bits and pieces making their way to his rattled brain. The Powerbomb. The Code Breaker.

A body’s worth of weight on his ribs, his leg getting pulled up and there was nothing he could do. Roman just slid down, down down into the warm darkness of a faint. Your voice urged him back momentarily, long enough for him to know that he was upright, moving. Not in the ring, which was a relief. But unless he'd somehow fallen on top of Jericho, he was pretty sure he wasn't the United States Champion anymore.

The realization made him want to give up. Why couldn't they just let him lay down and sleep. His back hurt, he could barely keep his legs moving and he kept drifting between awake and dead on his feet. What the fuck had happened, why did he hurt so much. Powerbomb. Code Breaker. The cage. Strowman.

“I really, really just want him to be okay...”

...

Roman was silent for most of the car ride to the hotel, nervously fidgeting in his seat. Whenever you glanced over at him in the dark, he huddled a bit more into himself. Your heart broke at the sight of your boyfriend and mate so thoroughly dejected, and you put a hand on his leg.

“I'm sorry.” He said quietly, covering your hand with his own. “I fucked up. I…I worked so hard for that belt. And it’s gone now. What the hell is my family going to think? My dad? You?” He shook his head, seeming disgusted. “Why is this so fucking difficult?”

“Because you’re not a superhero, Roman. Everyone has a tough time when there are people ganging up on them.” You pointed out. “I know losing is hard, I’m practically the world’s sorest loser.”

“’Practically’? I seem to recall beating you at Uno once.”

“Okay alright, I’m definitely the world’s sorest loser. That’s not the point, though! The point is, you’re going to lose sometimes. You might lose a lot. Especially if they throw two or three people at you and stack the deck against you. But you’re safe, and as far as I’m concerned that’s not a loss.” You watched him out of the corner of your eye, seeing his shoulders relax.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right there.” He admitted. “It just...I don’t know. It makes me feel like a bad pack leader if I lose.” Roman carried on, his voice soft. “I’m hardwired to provide and…and defend territory and stuff. Since I was very young, that’s how I was taught. I have to be strong all the time, smart, careful. Brave but not brazen, that kind of thing.” He squeezed your hand. “Keep my emotions under control and let myself off the leash only when absolutely necessary. Because I’m…dangerous when I get upset.” He sounded pained. “Rollins said once I was like a volcano. He wasn’t too far off.”

“Well, I don’t really care what Rollins says.” You said with a shrug, making Roman chuckle dryly. “I care that you’re battered and you could probably use a little cheer-up tonight. Just a suggestion.”

An hour later a well-fed and sleepy-looking Roman propped himself up against the bathroom sink, yawning every two minutes as you filled the tub. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, babe.” He mumbled. “I know I’ve got a lot of hair to deal with.”

“Shush, I want to. Now get your ass in the tub.” You insisted, holding back a laugh as the man rubbed his eyes like he was an exhausted child. “You just sit in here and soak, I’ll be back in five or so minutes when you’re ready.” He gave you a thumbs up and an attempt at a smile as you left to go get his hair care kit out of his duffel.

When you returned Roman had laid back, his eyes closed and one arm draped over the side of the tub. He idly scratched his chest piece, the black ink crisp and bold under the water. You tiptoed to the sink, unzipping the bag and carefully tugging out the shampoo and conditioner before kneeling beside the tub and tapping his shoulder. Roman rolled his head to look up at you, blinking slowly.

“Hey, I'm just going to start, alright?” You said softly, waiting until he actually nodded before starting to lather his hair with slow, gentle motions on his scalp. Roman moaned after a minute and you paused, worriedly asking if you hurt him.

“Mmno, you're gonna' give me a boner if you keep that up though.” he slurred, shifting his weight forward so you had more access. “Like it when you play with my hair.”

“Really?” You thought back, recalling with new clarity how much louder he got when you pulled his hair while the two of you had sex, or the way he would make that deep rumbling sound in his chest when you absently toyed with his locks on long car rides. You felt yourself flush. “Huh.”

“Don't stop. Like it.” Roman insisted, humming when you began working the shampoo through his hair again. You swept his hair to either side of his neck and caught sight of the bruises on his back from the ring apron. You bit your lip, fingers stilling. Your lighthearted mood and whatever arousal you had been feeling died in the pit of your stomach. Roman flinched when you touched one of the bruises. “M' sorry. Should have been stronger.” All the humor was gone from his voice. “I scared you.”

“Yeah.” You replied softly, twisting his hair around your hands and finger-combing through it to get out the larger snags. “It’s alright though. I’m sure I’ve scared you on more than one occasion.” Roman nodded silently, staring at his knees. You tipped his head back so you could kiss his forehead and rinse his hair. He looked like he was thinking hard. Maybe too hard. “What’s going on up there? Talk to me.”

He just grunted, resting his hand on your thigh and closing his eyes. You kept your frustrated huff to yourself, knowing it wouldn’t do you any good to get upset. He would tell you. It might take a while, but he had been getting much better at telling you about what was wrong in a timely manner. You had faith in him.

“I’m worried.” Roman said finally. “I…I’ll do my turn later tonight. I’m scared about where I hit the ring apron. Hopefully it’s nothing serious and I’ll be back to fighting shape. I just don’t want you to think I’m turning because I don’t want to talk to you, o-or I’m trying to get out of driving or something. I promise I’ll take another driving shift. I just-”

You interrupted him by starting to work the conditioner through his thick mane. “It’s alright.” You said gently. “You do what you need to do.”

Roman groaned softly, resting his forehead against the side of the tub and shivering when you dragged your fingers down his back. “Babe…” He arched his back helplessly to your touch, strong body pliant under your hands as you took care of him. “You’re so good to me.” He sounded dazed, almost like he couldn’t believe it.

You made soft reassuring noises in your throat and carried on washing his hair, a little surprised when a large hand caught the back of your neck and pulled you down to bump your forehead against his own. Roman looked weary, bruising under his eyes standing out starkly. His pupils were dilated already, threatening to engulf the gray of his irises. “You’re going to be alright.” You whispered, swallowing hard as his eyes closed like that had been what he was waiting for.

You took longer than you needed to brushing his hair once he had dried himself off, being extra careful not to pull as you untangled the black locks. Roman seemed to have slipped into an in-between headspace, not speaking anymore and just making sounds in his chest. The whole time you combed his hair out in sections you kept talking, letting him know that you were there as you worked.

He licked your hand when you were finally finished, nipping at your index finger. “Thank you.” His voice was guttural, words slow and sounded out carefully through sharp teeth. You kissed his jaw and the underside of his chin, and one of his hands wound through your hair to hold you closer. “Mate.” Roman sighed, seeming in a better state of mind already as he buried his nose in the nape of your neck.

“You’re going to be alright.” You said again, feeling him nod against you.

“Yeah.”

The next day was a bit more gentle. You woke up to Roman curled up nose-to-tail at the foot of your bed, and you watched him sleep for a little while. His dark fur shone almost blue-black in the early morning sunlight, and the easy rise and fall of his side soothed you immensely. As if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t been walking wounded the night before.

Pointed ears perked up as he seemed to come out of his dreams, a wide yawn displaying a mouth full of sharp teeth. “Morning, Ro.” You said quietly, pressing a good-morning kiss to one of his ears. He sleepily lapped across your cheek, tongue lolling out while you giggled.

…

The weeks leading up to the Royal Rumble were always a fiasco. The beginning of the Road To Wrestlemania, a time for the pomp and circumstance of wrestling to start building.  Things were understandably tense as the day drew closer, Roman left on the ground among the remains of a shattered announce table after Raw went off the air two weeks before the Rumble.

The aforementioned 'volcanic anger' seemed to bubble higher with each unfair encounter Roman had with the dual champions, and it nearly came to blows with Jericho backstage after the blond man dangled the US title in his face and jeered at you. That had been terrifying, Roman all but snapping and snarling at Jericho to get him to back away. Roman's grip had tightened on your side and you in turn clung to him, running your hand over the plating on the back of his vest.

Save it for the Rumble. Save it for the Rumble. You started talking with him every evening, decompressing the large man as best as you could. Roman was at least honest with you this time around, freely admitting that he was scared to death that Jericho would figure out a way to interfere no matter what or that Owens and Chris might try to go after you. You kept what had happened between you and Rusev to yourself, not wanting to make Roman worry.

“I can’t lose you. And if they hurt you…”

“I won’t let them. I’m not scared of them.”

“If something happens to you I won’t forgive myself.”

“Nothing will happen to me.”

Roman took to sleeping wrapped around you, his body warm and solid against your own. He was oddly affectionate, even for him, tender with you and soaking up every drop of attention you gave him like it was a precious commodity.

You understood though, and you went above and beyond to make sure that he felt just as loved and cared for as you did. Whether that meant slowly washing his hair or him ‘helping’ you take off your wrestling gear, neither of you were denying each other much these days.

Your back met the wall, his hips rolling against your own in a needy cadence that had you panting for breath. Roman had a way of making you feel incredible, even after you had just finished a bout with Alicia and were covered in sweat and bruises. He buried his face in the hollow of your neck, startling a pleased sound out of you when he sucked a hickey to life. “Mine, mine.” He said softly. “Gonna' make you proud, take care of you. I promise.”

You shook your head at yourself even as you blushed. It wouldn’t do you any good to get distracted. You didn’t have a match on this 'final' Raw before the Rumble. The powers that be had intended for you to cut a promo so you'd dressed to kill accordingly, but then at the last minute the idea had been scrapped for time. Something about Rollins and Zayn. You wished you'd thought to bring other clothes as you tugged self-consciously at the skirt of the form-fitting dress. Thankfully you'd at least brought your sneakers, changing back out of your heels the first chance you got.

All you could do was endure the waiting game in the back, stunned when Roman's quick wits and Kevin's loud mouth garnered him a rematch against Chris Jericho for the United States strap, tonight. “I can't believe he agreed to that!” You exploded when Roman traipsed back through the curtain, a huge grin on his face.

“Neither can I, holy shit. Help me get suited up babe, I've got an old ass to kick.” His spirits seemed to be through the roof as he quickly whipped off his shirt and pulled his vest on over his undershirt, fingers flying over the side zip and straps. He slowed to a stop as he actually looked at you, though. “Also, I don't think I've ever seen that dress before. New?” He sniffed. “Not new.”

“Nope, sorry. It's been sitting in my closet for months. I was supposed to do a promo.” You fumbled with the skirt of it again. “They wanted me dressed…I think the word they used was ‘fierce’.”

“I like it.” Roman said softly, and from the tone of his voice you could tell that he didn't just like it. “Looks good. You’re not comfortable in it though.”

“Well yeah, but that kind of goes hand in hand with looking good. The more uncomfortable I am, the nicer I look.” You joked.

Roman straightened up, shaking his hair back over his shoulders before cupping your cheek gently and pressing his forehead to yours. “I appreciate the effort you put in, even if all I want to do is tear your panties off and have you sit on my cock.” His voice was a low purr. “The dress is optional.”

“Roman!” You hissed, surprised at his sudden boldness. The two of you were in the hallway for fuck’s sake!

He grinned down at you again, giving you a wink and a peck on the cheek. “Full moon, babe. I'm only eye-fucking you and I can hear your heart doing double time.”

“You're ridiculous.”

“Mark me, for luck?” Roman asked hopefully, tugging the strap of his vest to the side. Suddenly Rusev and a still-squawking Lana went rushing by, a referee in tow. It looked like Rusev's nose had been broken, but even as you noticed that, Roman was busy pushing Lana's hand off his shoulder. “Woman, you are trying my damn patience.” He grunted, “Take care of your husband, obviously he could use some looking after.”

“How dare you, I am a man, not like you! You puny, Pensacola--” Rusev fumbled for a minute or two, obviously trying to come up with another word that started with 'p' while the poor referee looked back and forth, utterly confused. “-pest!”

“Rusev you are embarrassing me!” Lana wailed, clinging to Roman's arm.

Roman shook her off again, looking less entertained this time. “Don't touch me. C'mon babe, this place is a little too loud for my taste.” His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. “Good luck with the nose, man. One too many Accolades?” Roman asked with a smirk, making Rusev snarl.

“I will crush you again, Reigns! And then I will take your friend.” The Bulgarian threatened, cupping his nose.

Roman's smirk vanished, gray eyes narrowing. “Shouldn't talk like that in front of your wife. Or my mate.” You started running your hand up and down the plates on the spine of his vest, nuzzling into his side. His shoulders relaxed even though the rest of his body stayed alert, ready. “Sorry to chat and run, but I've got some business to take care of. I'm sure you understand.” With that Roman easily hoisted you over his shoulder and headed down the hall, ignoring your yelp of surprise.

You couldn't resist giving Lana a smug wave as you left, jolting and flushing bright red when Roman patted your ass.

“Now, I believe you were giving me my mate mark.” Roman said, placing you on your feet beside the curtain at gorilla position and scooting his shoulder strap to the side again. You lunged in to kiss him, flinging your arms around his neck as he made a confused sound in his throat. “Oh.” He murmured, kissing you back and smoothing his hands over your hips. “Jealous?”

“You are mine.” You replied firmly, biting down hard on his bared skin. Roman whimpered, nodding and burying his face in your hair. His hips rocked against your own, making you wish he didn't have to go. “You do good. Come back to me safe, got it?” You ordered breathlessly.

“Yes, my mate. I'll make you proud. I promise.” he panted.

Kevin was on commentary and you thanked God that you couldn't hear it as Jericho and Roman met in the ring. Flurries of blows landed between the two men, a dizzying back and forth that left you worried. Full moon or not, Roman wasn't invincible and you hoped with all your heart that tonight would be different.

Jericho went for the Code Breaker and you cheered softly when Roman caught him, crossing your fingers and then exhaling hard in disappointment when Chris kicked out of the Powerbomb. Kevin apparently had enough of watching his friend get his ass handed to him, the larger man scrambling into the ring and attacking Roman viciously.

“Oh no, no no no.” You pressed your hands over your mouth. Please not again, don't let this happen, fight Roman!

The shark cage lowered to the ring as Chris and Kevin ganged up on Roman for the third week in a row. If you never had to see that stupid cage again, it would be too damn soon. “You can watch him all you want. I know my wife does.” Your fists clenched. Rusev leaned against the wall across from the gorilla position. He certainly didn't look the part of 'Handsome Rusev', tape and bloodied gauze wrapped around his nose. “He can move, I will give him that. He is strong, and he's stubborn. But Rusev is stronger. Why don't you just accept it? It will make things easier on you in the long run.” The Bulgarian pointed out, smirking at you.

“He's my mate. I believe in him. More importantly, I trust him. And he trusts me.” You said, raising your voice to be heard over the crowd. “I know that you said some things about me when you and Roman fought. Implied some things. I would really appreciate it if you could leave me-”

Rusev had gone red in the face, and much quicker than you expected he had you trapped against the wall. “Your big friend and his little partner are nowhere near, do you really think anyone would notice if you disappeared?” he snarled as indistinct bass pounded overhead. You knew the match had been thrown out since Kevin had interfered, so you had no idea whose music was playing.

“If your nose isn't already broken, I'll shatter it to powder.” You shot back, “Get the hell away from me before I get rude!”

“You will respect me!” Rusev said angrily, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you violently. You brought your fists up to slug him as he jerked you around, then the curtain parted and Roman stepped through. The excited grin he had been wearing dropped off his face, replaced by a look of panicked fury. You swallowed hard.

“Rusev!” Roman roared, making the Bulgarian flinch and hastily back away from you. “Don't touch them, you get the hell away from my mate before I make you regret waking up this morning!”

“I was only-” Rusev began to protest.

“I'd run.” You said, sighing in relief when he clearly thought better of his choice to bother you and fled. Roman dragged you back against him, a firm arm wrapped around your waist. Your back pressed to the hard plating on the front of his vest. “Roman?” You asked cautiously.

“Are you alright? He didn't hurt you, did he? I'm sorry I was late, so sorry.” He apologized, sighing in relief when you shook your head no. The deep, husky timbre of his voice sent shivers down your spine. “Waited. I waited. Was strong for you. Will you have me now?” He rutted up into the small of your back, the buckle of his ring gear digging into you. “Will you have me now, my mate?” He spoke in short bursts, his breath hot on your neck before he nuzzled your nape. “Was good, fought for you. Please.”

“Here, though? I mean-” You twiddled your fingers. Not that the thought didn't have appeal but you got the feeling that a few people might be put off by you getting slammed against a wall and 'mated' until your legs gave out.

“Won’t make you. Can’t make you. I just need. Won’t make you.” Roman’s tone was half-pleading, half-resigned. “Can take care of myself if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, Jesus Christ. C’mon. Let’s get to the car quick.” You suggested, grabbing his hand. “Get to the car, get to the hotel, we’ll shower together-” The ensuing rumble of approval that cut you off made you laugh. “I won’t leave you out in the cold. You did so good tonight, talk about above and beyond. Thank you for scaring him off.”

“You're my mate. Have to keep you safe.” He said, not without difficulty. Then, “You smell really good.” He slowed you to a stop and buried his face in your hair, pinning you to the wall with his large hips. “So good, so fucking good.” The words were mumbled against your skin, making you shiver and arch as Roman’s hips slotted over yours, back and forth in a smooth rocking motion.

You realized he probably wasn’t going to make it to the hotel, the feel of him moving against you while desperately trying to keep himself under control making you bite your lip hard and try to think of someplace where the two of you could have some privacy. “Roman…the car?” You suggested softly, your legs going wobbly at the way he tried to stifle his moan by nipping and licking your exposed shoulder. “Have to get to the car, Roman.”

“Mm’n, alright, I’m…I’m goin’.” He managed to get out before hoisting you up to sit on his hips. You squeaked, clinging to his shoulders as he released his grip for a second to pull open the door to the parking garage. “M’ goin’, been good tonight, yeah?” Roman panted out. “Made you proud? Good mate, right?”

You dug your fingers into his hair, stroking through it and making his steps falter. “Good mate, best mate.” You praised, kissing his forehead. “You did so good, Ro.” You loved the way his whole body shuddered and he held you even tighter.

“Here, right here.” He said finally, setting you on your feet for a second and undoing his vest. He yanked off his undershirt and then spread it on the hood of the car. “Right here. Now.” Roman breathed, knocking his forehead against your own. “You smell like good like yes like mate like mine like home, please please here now please.” He begged, “I was so worried, thought something had happened to you, thought he was going to hurt you. I n-need--”

You smiled, kissing him and making him groan into your mouth. “Please, I’ve been waiting for you.” You said, pressing your hand to the ink on his chest. His heart was slamming wildly. “Please.”

Roman’s eyes, which had been looking frantic, calmed somewhat at your touch. “Oh God, I was so scared when I saw him. I-” He made a whining sound in his throat and fingers tugged your skirt up, fumbling to find your panties and get them off. “Yes, yes yes yes.” He groaned as you turned around without him asking, and he flipped your skirt over your hips. Normally you would have tried to wait until you got to the hotel elevator at least, but something about this urgent, needy Roman had your body soaked, thighs rubbing together to try and relieve some of the ache he had made earlier.

Fuck waiting.

Roman kicked your legs apart, mouthing over your shoulder blade as he tore at the buckle on his belt. “Oh babe, I hope you’re ready. Jesus Christ do I hope you’re ready.” The following breathless growl made your knees weak. “Gonna’ mate you, mate my mate.”

Anticipation built like a bonfire in your stomach as he pressed your chest down onto the hood of the car and teased at your dripping pussy with his cock. You scrambled to grab his undershirt and fold it to pad your hips. As eager as you were, a matching set of unintended bruises on your pelvis did not appeal to you in the slightest.

“Promise I’ll be careful.” Roman said softly. “Can’t hurt you. Never.” His hand slipped beneath your cheek, protecting your face from the hood of the rental as he finally penetrated you. Your fingers dug into the hard surface beneath you and you bit down on Roman’s hand to muffle your cry of delight. You might as well have made the noise, because you biting him made Roman groan loud enough to make the parking garage echo.

He bent over you, covering your body with his own and pressing feverish kisses to the side of your neck as his hips crushed up against you. He was power, raw and untamed, growling animalistic nonsense in your ear. “Smell good are good, so good, make me feel good, make me feel amazing, my mate my mate, all mine, all mine--”

You begged for him in turn, “Please, please, I waited all night for this, oh God Roman please-!” He felt so good inside you, filling you deep and fucking you just like you needed. The stress of watching him get beaten down every week started easing out of your body and you kissed his hand, making Roman croon wordlessly.

His fingers dove beneath the front of your dress, into the cups of your bra to play with your breasts. You whimpered and Roman snarled against your shoulder, “O-oh, so good to me, so sweet to me. Love your tits, babe, love them so much. They’re just right, and I know you love it when I give them some attention. My mate, my babe, beautiful strong mate.”

You rocked back onto his cock with a desperate noise, hands fisted on the car hood. You could have sworn you heard a gasp but you figured it must be Roman.

Roman growled suddenly, much louder than before, fixing the front of your dress and then wrapping his right arm loosely around your neck. He hauled you upright against his body, hips pistoning furiously as he rested his chin on your shoulder and snarled, “No one else fucks you like this, no one else touches you like I do, no one else gets this pussy, these tits, this beautiful fucking body.” The words were molten, burning with promise. His hand cupped your jaw, keeping your barely-open eyes on him. “You are mine and as long as you want me, no one will ever take you away from me.”

You whimpered and wrapped your arm around his neck, clinging to him as he held your hips tight to his own and fucked up into you. “Roman-!” you sobbed helplessly, your orgasm making you arch and roll of your own accord.

Roman moaned, kissing you hard and shuddering before whispering, “open your eyes babe.” You obeyed and immediately felt a crimson flush stain your face.

Lana and Rusev were two cars down from you and Roman, both of them staring wide-eyed. A tiny part of you debated telling Roman to stop, but the way that Lana had hung onto Roman's arm earlier in the night...and Rusev...

You sucked in a breath to speak and then whined when Roman rocked you forward with a particularly deep thrust. You could feel his smirk against your shoulder. “No one. Fucks. This pussy. Like I do.” Every sentence was punctuated by a bottomed-out cock that made your eyes threaten to roll back in your head. “It’s mine, all mine, and this cock and body are all fucking yours, babe. I promise.” He whispered in your ear. “For as long as you want me, for forever.”

You felt hot all over as you wondered how much Lana and Rusev could actually see, since Roman had fixed your dress before pulling you up. It was so filthy, so undeniably naughty, but you found yourself moaning louder and practically writhing against Roman, putting on a show that made your boyfriend groan and move faster. Lana radiated jealousy while Rusev continued to stare, transfixed.

“Mine!” Roman barked sharply, making Rusev jump. “Understand? Mine!” Roman seemed to lose control as a possessive snarl rumbled in his chest. One hand groped your breasts while the other dug into your dress, cupping your quaking cunt through the fabric. “These are mine, this is mine, I have mounted them and they are mine!” Roman grabbed your hips as you braced yourself against the car, fucking back onto his cock. “And this--” He gestured proudly down at his dick, words all but bitten out through gritted teeth. “-belongs to my mate, and my mate only. Got it?”

“Ro-” You whimpered. The dominant aura that issued from him made you want to go to pieces, your insides slick with longing even though you'd already come once. He crooned softly to you, like an assurance that his fierce words were only meant for Lana and Rusev. The Ravishing Russian stomped her foot angrily after a moment or two, dragging Rusev into their car. Her muffled yelling quickly faded to background noise as Roman sighed and kissed the back of your neck.

“Babe, babe,” he murmured, “I'm so close, where do you want it?”

“Anywhere, anywhere, I just need--” You pleaded, moaning when Roman pulled up the skirt of your dress and started playing with your clit. “Please, alpha, please!”

You felt his smile against your shoulder blade. “Damn right, babe. Come for your alpha.” Roman commanded, groaning as you cried out and spasmed around him. “That's right, oh God yeah, come for me. Come all over that dick, soak me with that sweet little pussy I love so much.” His cock pounded into you again and again, prolonging your orgasm before Roman finally shuddered all over and quickly pulled out. His release coated the inside of your thigh, starting the slow drip down your leg. “Shit, hang on.” He rasped, yanking on his undershirt and catching the dribble before it could go any further. “Sorry. Figured you didn't want it on this dress.” He ran a hand over the small of your back.

“Oh God.” You panted, pressing your hot cheek to the cool car hood as you struggled to regain your breath. “G-God.”

...

“My poor mate, what the hell did I do to you?” Roman asked softly, his hand stroking down the length of your back. He was legitimately concerned. Demanding so much of you in one night had been greedy of him. After seeing Rusev shaking you back and forth though, every awful feeling that Roman had been fighting these past few weeks just...exploded. He had needed to assure you--no, he'd needed to assure himself that you were alright and safe, but he had to make sure that you felt loved and cherished in one of the only ways he could.

You finally propped yourself up on shaking arms, arching your body back and demanding a kiss by wrapping your arm around his neck again. You smelled like satisfied and that in and of itself made Roman immensely happy. He crooned again, quieter, the mark you'd left on his shoulder pulling at his skin as he held you tightly and kissed your jaw, your throat. “My mate...how do you feel?”

“I could live with a little more of that.” You teased, your smile looking ridiculously smug. “Yeah, I'm the jealous one, Ro?”

Roman blushed, recalling the frenzied tumble of half-words out of his mouth when he'd realized Rusev and Lana had spotted the two of you. “I don't want him to try anything ever again.”

“I understand.” You murmured, tugging his hair away from his face. Roman went with the motion, the content rumble that he'd been finding himself making more and more often filling the silence between you. “You're mine. I'm yours. Nothing will change that.” You promised softly. “Nothing.”

Roman nodded, not trusting himself to speak as you mouthed sleepily over his jaw. You were so undeniably good to him, sometimes it made him weak in the knees, made him all emotional.

“Let's go home, okay? You're driving.” You said finally, making Roman laugh.

“That's more than fair. Plus, you definitely said something about showering together. I dunno' about you, but I think I worked up a sweat.” Roman felt his chest tighten when you shoved him and started giggling, and he quickly focused on doing up his pants before he could do something dumb like fucking cry or something. “Let's go, babe.”

You draped your arms over his shoulders, stilling him as you wound your hips against his own in a slow, clockwise motion. Roman sucked in a startled breath, hearing your pulse start to hammer again. “Let's go home.” You murmured, snuggling into his chest.

My beautiful strong mate.

Roman swallowed hard, cupping the back of your head and struggling to keep his voice steady. “Yeah.”

Part Four

#were!Reigns #roman reigns #roman reigns smut #wwe #thirst party saturday #also I love rusev and lana and kevin and chris I promise #for whoever asked for this #and brushie for Tox #morning everyone! #werewolf!Roman Reigns #Wrestling

[concussed-to-pieces]

Reigning Champions; Part Four

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Dean Ambrose/Roman Reigns/Female Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Thirst Party Saturday ho! This is set during/after Survivor Series, as I'm sure you all know. Tagging @tox-moxley, @hardcorewwetrash and @oraclegazes, as is my custom. Enjoy!

11/20/16

“Hey!” The call echoed through the parking garage and you barely had a second to react before strong arms hauled you the rest of the way out of your vehicle and into a fierce hug. “Darlin’!”

“Dean!” you gasped, “Jesus, you scared me.”

Footsteps thundered up behind Dean and abruptly another set of arms wrapped around the two of you, hoisting you both off the ground. “Baby girl!”

“Roman!” you choked out, “hi!”

“Uce!”

“Ro! Put me down so I can kick your ass; powering out of the Accolade like you’re some kind of motherfucker!” Dean huffed, jerking at Roman’s grip on him.

Reigns laughed, sounding outrageously happy as he released you and his brother. “I’ve missed you guys.” He grinned, rumpling Dean’s hair. “How you doing Uce? Kicking ass on the blue brand I see.”

“I got two weeks before I try to get my belt back. It’s gonna’ be great.” Dean bounced excitedly in place. “How about you though? ‘And still your United States champion!’ Think you’ll break my record, Big Dog?”

Roman shook his head. “I dunno’ Uce, you had one handsome bastard and one semi-decent looking bastard to back you up in your run as US champ. We’ll see how well I can do on my own.”

“And you.” Dean whirled on you. “How’s our favorite medic doin’, huh? Getting treated okay on Raw stints? I know my brand ain’t given you any trouble.”

“No complaints, Dean. Everyone’s been kind to me.” You smiled up at the blue-eyed man. “I’m glad you two get to see each other again! I’ve missed having you both around.”

Dean glanced around, tipping your chin up afterwards and kissing you sweetly. You whimpered, feeling your knees go weak. The drive to get to the arena hadn’t been awful, just very long and dull. Coupled with the anxiety of not being sure that you would see both of them, it made for a very, very long drive. But now, here they were. Whole and safe, together again with you.

“It’s so good to see you again.” Dean’s voice was barely a whisper.

The most you normally got from either man was a quick kiss in an arena hallway. You knew they would be heartbroken if you lost your job, so you did your best to keep things incredibly professional. It wasn't as if your relationship was forbidden, but you knew some people would be uncomfortable with the idea of the three of you. And the less you gave people to talk about, the better.

After he’d won the United States Championship belt though, Roman had pinned you against a stack of merch crates and roughly got you off with his mouth. It had been so risky, but the Samoan covered in bruises, sweat and championship gold didn’t seem to care as he held you tight and licked your core raw, a black-taped hand over your mouth to help you keep quiet.

You'd stood there afterwards stunned and panting as he just smiled up at you, brown eyes alight with happiness. “I did it. I did it. No more ruts, baby girl. I'm back.” He’d said that he needed to when you asked him what that was all about, sheepishly helping you straighten out your clothes. “You give up so much for us. I didn’t want you to think I don’t notice or appreciate it.”

Roman popped open the door of the SUV you’d driven to the arena in. “After you, of course.”

“But I just-”

Dean scooped you up easily and plopped you onto the bench seat, grinning at you in an almost predatory manner. “Darlin’, we ain’t waiting until the aftermath to start celebrating this time. We're gonna' be your open and close.”

“We have a hell of a night ahead of us, baby girl. And we know you do too, because you can bet your ass we're leaving a trail of bodies in our wake.” Roman said, leaning against the car door.

You swallowed hard, nodding furiously as Dean climbed up over you, knocking his forehead into your own gently. “You’re my darlin’. You’re Roman’s baby girl. You’re our medic and our best, best fucking friend. I don’t want you to think that just because we’re apart or one of us can’t touch you that we don’t fuckin’ love you with every ounce of our bodies, got that? Yeah we share, of course we share, but hearing about Reigns fuckin’ tonguing your cunt until you came was some hot shit. Wish I’d thought of it when you were around for my last pay per view, because I sure as shit would have sent you back to Raw with a hickey or twelve, y’know?”

“I’ve missed you both so much.” You said softly, ignoring Dean's nervous rambling as you bumped your forehead back into his. Reigns climbed up into the SUV and shut the door behind him. “So much.” Dean closed his eyes, ducking his head a little. His shoulder twitched and you smoothed a hand over it.

“We’re here tonight, baby girl. We’re against each other in the ring, but we can be together with you.” Roman murmured. “Let us show you how much we’ve missed you.”

Ambrose was all soft blue eyes and rumpled hair as he kissed you, Roman wasting little time unbuttoning his pants. “We missed you a lot.” Dean breathed.

...

“You guys expected to trust Dean Ambrose on your team? Ambrose's own mother doesn't trust him!” Corey Graves snarked as Ambrose was hauled away from AJ and sent packing off to his own corner.

You thanked God that Dean couldn't hear the commentary loud and clear like you could on the monitor, dragging your attention back to the banged-up redhead in front of you. “It's tough sometimes, huh?” Heath Slater said sympathetically, almost like he could feel your inner turmoil.

You mustered a weak smile. “Not about me right now, or how scared I am. Let's get you iced.” From his space beside the thinner wrestler, Cesaro grimaced and scratched at the fresh kinesio tape laced around his left shoulder.

“Why should you be scared? Almost all the men in that ring are phenomenal, no pun intended. And injury-free.  They will be fine.” he said dismissively. “Not too much work for you, yes?”

“Oh, I don't care about the amount of work. I just...” You paused, wishing your hands would stop shaking. “I hope you're right.”

“I am not understanding something, obviously.” Cesaro murmured after a minute. “It's you and Roman, I assumed. But...perhaps I am wrong?”

Slater shot the other man a glare. No small feat, considering the bruise swelling his cheek. “Man, you need to butt out somethin' fierce. It ain't nobody's business but the lady's, you got it?”

Cesaro held up his hands in defense. “Je suis désolé, I am thinking out loud. Easy there, Mister 'I Got Kids'.”

“Hey! Don't you bring my kids into this, I'll whip your ass! You Swiss-cheesin'--”

“Boys.” You said disapprovingly. “Cesaro, stop talking about his kids. Heath, don't be rude. He can ask questions. It's okay.”

“I have heard a few things from the women. Only speculation...'scuttlebutt', you would say.” Cesaro said hesitantly.

“What kind of 'things'?”

The Swiss Superman looked as uncomfortable as you'd ever seen him, hand back to fiddling with the tape on his shoulder. Heath coughed awkwardly, holding the ice pack a little firmer to his cheek. “Hey man, you started it. Might as well finish.” The redhead finally mumbled.

All Cesaro did was hold up three fingers and say, “Ménage à trois?”

The laugh that fought free of your mouth was a little on the wrong side of hysterical, but it still got a chuckle out of Heath. “Damn man, you sure as hell didn't beat around that bush.”

“What? I am not being rude. Or I am not trying to be.” Cesaro protested. “But Fräulein, it is just rumors, yes? I know how people blow things out of proportion.” He looked confused as you shook your head.

“I don't care what people say about me, they're always going to find something to talk about. I just don't want anything bad to happen to my...to Dean and Roman because of me, you know? In case someone doesn't approve.” You shrugged. “It's dumb, but I'm not the one in the spotlight here. I can always get work somewhere else, if push comes to shove.”

“Ah, you have the golden boys, so to speak. Many would call you lucky, but obviously it is no picnic.” Cesaro hummed quietly for a minute, before vaulting off the examination table. He caught your hand and kissed the back of it as he passed by, making you flush. “Hopefully, I will not see you again so soon Fräulein. But this shoulder has been testy lately.”

“Darlin'.” Dean's voice rasped, rougher than normal. Cesaro squeezed past the other man (who despite his lithe frame was doing a startlingly good job of blocking the doorway) and headed down the hall.

“Dean!” You were bewildered, realizing too late that you hadn’t been paying attention to the monitor while you spoke with Heath and Cesaro. But…the only reason Dean would be back here would be if he had been eliminated, and no one else had come trickling through your station since the tag team match...oh no.

“I was the first one.” Ambrose grunted.

Slater almost turned himself inside-out in his haste to leave the triage area.

Dean's hand tape crinkled and squeaked as his fists clenched tightly. His shoulders were drawn up, whole body tight as a bowstring and ready to snap at the slightest touch. “I was first. I was first. AJ could have done somethin', but he fucking didn't. He let me get eliminated. He could have broken the pin, I was just so fuckin' rattled...and Braun's full weight on my chest, I-I couldn't move.” Angry tears started dripping down his cheeks. “Now Roman is out there alone, with Rollins and fucking AJ.”

“Dean, can you come sit?” You didn't try to touch him. You knew better. “I need to make sure you're alright. I missed your...I missed it. I was talking with Cesaro.”

“'Course you were.” Dean huffed, remaining where he was. “Why the fuck wouldn't you be? Replacin' me already. I haven't even been out for five goddamn minutes. Guess Team Raw gets everything this time.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You weren't able to keep the hurt out of your voice. “Dean, I was only-”

“Only what? Scopin' out a new buddy, for when you and Reigns kick me to the curb? Nah darlin', I've been here before.” Ambrose stalked to you, towering over you instead of slouching like he usually did.

You refused to be intimidated though, scowling right back up at him. “It is literally my job to do this, Ambrose. Would you rather that I'm fired? Would that make you feel better?”

“No.” Dean replied grudgingly after a minute of silence. “No, I just want you happy. You can't be happy if I'm...I'm a loser, okay? I get that shit. Just kinda' drove the point home is all. If I wasn't so fucking stupid...if I could just handle myself better.” He wiped at his eyes jerkily. “It's been hard, so fucking hard. I'm...I hate not having you and Roman around all the time, okay?! I'm a huge pussy and I miss you guys so damn much!” he cried.

His urgency in the car earlier rushed to the forefront of your mind. Overly handsy, fingers in your hair and tugging at your clothes even as Roman fucked you. Ambrose had been intense, all hot words and biting kisses to your shoulders and neck while you stroked him. Almost like...

Like he thought he wouldn't get to do it again.

Your eyes widened. “Dean, we're not leaving you behind, okay? I could never do that.” You said softly, cupping his face with your hands. “We could never do that.”

“I just cost my team fucking everything because I couldn't wait two weeks for TLC. Don't give me this bullshit, darlin'.” He said thickly, making no move to escape your grasp. “I'm the Lunatic Fringe without a belt to fucking show for it, playing second fiddle to the New Japan prince. Dean fucking Ambrose, cosmic fucking joke.”

You hushed him, wiping some of his tears away. “Listen to me, Dean.” You ordered sternly. “Just me. You, Roman and I are the only important ones in this equation. Roman isn't here right now. I'm all you've got, Anoa'i.”

Dean knocked his forehead against your own. His eyes were almost unbearably sad. “Stop that shit, you know I'm--”

“You and Roman are brothers. You're an Anoa'i, got it?”

“But we're not--”

“Hey!” You barked, making him snap his mouth shut. “This is not up for debate! We're a team, even if you guys are on different brands and have to work against each other in the ring. We're not 'scouting out new prospects'. You're with us. We're with you. That is fucking that.”

Strowman-size footsteps thundered in the hallway and you belatedly turned your attention back to the monitor, just in time to watch Roman level Shane McMahon’s Coast To Coast with an earth-shattering Spear. Reigns clearly had too much steam behind him, if the way his spine arched sharply at the impact was any indicator. Dean made a distressed sound.

The back and forth that followed had you flinching every time a blow landed, and you were startled to notice that Dean reacted when Rollins was beaten down by AJ, cringing at the kick to the back of Seth's neck. “He's got a nasty scar there, you can't just...” Ambrose's protest trailed off, eyes narrowing. “The Triple Powerbomb...Rollins can't do that, not alone. And Roman-” He chewed on his lower lip, then yanked your chin up for a fierce kiss. “I'll be back, darlin'.”

You watched with your heart in your throat as Dean caught AJ in the same spot that he'd hit Rollins, as security swarmed the blue-eyed 'Lunatic'. And then...Roman and Seth, laying out the numerous security personnel like it was nothing, like they would do anything for Dean. Despite their exhaustion, somehow managing to get that Shield callback Triple Powerbomb set up and beautifully executed through the announce table.

The look of wonder on Dean's face as his Shield-brothers fought through the security for him so they could do what they did best was something that you would treasure for a long time.

…

Reigns returned, battered and limping badly with Rollins 'supporting' him underneath his arm. Honestly, the both of them looked like they were in the same boat. “Big Dog still got some bite in him!” Seth crowed, holding his fist out to Dean. Ambrose looked down at it, and then back up at Seth. The younger man’s smile started to fade as Dean grabbed his wrist, but then the ‘Lunatic’ pulled him into a fierce hug.

“You will always be our little brother, got that, you piece of crap? And nobody kicks my little brother in the back of the neck ‘cept me.” Dean grunted.

Rollins closed his eyes, fingers digging into Dean’s blue shirt. “Means a lot coming from you, Ambrose. Fuckin’ knucklehead.” He managed to say.

“Baby girl.” Roman said quietly. “I gotta’ go lay down. I’m…that fucking Spear, Jesus.” He shook his head gingerly. “Let’s figure out where you’re staying for the night while you do your rundown.” He hobbled to the makeshift exam table, sprawling out on top of it the best he could.

“I need to check out your knee, what even happened?” You asked, unzipping his boot and shuffling his pants leg up. Dean was still hugging Seth, murmuring something into his hair that was making the younger man’s shoulders heave.

“Caught the steps shitty, thought I broke my knee for a minute. Then Orton...I was so goddamn close.” Roman covered his face with his hands. “Again with this ‘almost’ shit, baby girl. Like nothing’s changed in six or so months.” He said bitterly.

“There were three of them, Roman. Please don’t beat yourself up over this. You’re not invincible by any means, so stop pretending you are.” You scolded, making him crack a weak smile as you gently probed his kneecap. “No new grinding or clicking, right? Just tender?”

“It’s real fucking tender though.” Reigns said worriedly.

“I took care of the room this time, Ro. Knew we’d have our darlin’ here, so I kind of went ahead and asked for something bigger.” Dean gave you a wink. “One less thing for you to worry about.”

“Damn, you’re a lifesaver Uce.” Roman said gratefully. “Hooray for not having to fuck with two bolted-down twin beds.”

“Yeah, we should probably send that place an apology letter…we did kind of ruin their floorboards.”

…

“He’s got to be jealous.” Ambrose sounded smug and you rolled your eyes.

“And here I was thinking that you guys kissed and made up.” You teased, taking the room key from Dean and unlocking the door.

“Oh we did, no worries there darlin’. But that doesn’t change facts. Rollins wishes he was with us.” Ambrose replied confidently, helping Roman over the threshold. “Oh…oh wow.” The lighter-haired man’s jaw went slack at the sight of the room, Reigns gently closing his mouth after a minute.

You weren’t fairing much better. The room was spacious and clean, the huge four poster bed with a cream-colored canopy standing out prominently. A small kitchenette began where the carpet ended and a pair of large, comfortable-looking chairs made the space a little less empty. “Dean, holy shit.” You gasped.

“Damn. I asked for an upgrade and I got the keys to the castle.” Ambrose finally said weakly. “All I requested was a king mattress and a decent-size tub for me to soak and relax in like I’m a posh motherfucker.”

“There’s a tub? Like…like a big tub?” Roman’s face lit up. “A nice one?” Life on the road could turn a simple hotel bathtub into a luxury, you could attest to this from personal experience.

Dean shrugged, setting the larger man down in one of the armchairs that stood at attention beside the bed. “I’ll go check.”

“I call dibs on the bed.” You announced from your position, face-first in the comforter of the large bed. Ambrose’s chuckle washed over you and you felt him straddle your body, fingers digging into your shoulders to rub at the tense muscles there.

“Damn darlin’, you’re as tight as me.” He said, sounding a little concerned. You whimpered, all but dissolving into the bed as he continued to work on your back a bit more firmly. Roman got up from his chair, resting his weight tentatively on his bad leg.

Another hand stroked up the seam of your jeans and then cupped your pussy through the material, thumb pressing where your entrance was. You knew it was Roman just from the size of the hand. The Samoan loved to tease almost as much as the ‘Lunatic’ did, large fingers working to spread you open even through your jeans.

You arched your hips up as best as you could with Dean's weight on your lower back, whining needily into the comforter while Roman slid his fingers back and forth over you. “Still hungry, baby girl? I think my brother needs to take care of you more.” Reigns murmured, “Slacking off, Ambrose?”

“Not on your fucking life, Reigns.” Dean huffed. “Just...I don't know, I'm scared of getting her fired or something. How the fuck did you get the balls to fuckin' eat her out in the hallway?”

“Ah man, you know how it feels right after you win. You're invincible, you're on fire and everything is awesome and amazing.” Roman shrugged, his other hand coming up to massage your scalp. The sensations of their hands on you made you squirm almost embarrassingly and Ambrose crooned, his nose brushing the nape of your neck as he kissed the flushed skin there.

“Right here, darlin'? How about I fuck you right here on this bed,” he said hoarsely, “while my brother watches, yeah?”

“Mm, sounds like it'd be a hell of a show.” Roman groaned, the bed dipping under his weight as he laid down beside you. Your men, together again and waiting for your answer. They had fought so well tonight. Ambrose overcoming his own fears to wreak havoc with his brothers, Roman almost winning the whole thing for Team Raw.

“Yes, please yes.” You replied softly, loving the loud moan that Ambrose gave at your consent. “I missed you so much.”

“Oh not for much longer, darlin'. I promise.” The 'Lunatic' slid back to kneel between your legs, hoisting your hips up so he could undo your jeans. Reigns smiled up at his brother and then began ravaging your mouth with his own. Dean moaned again, his fingers faltering momentarily. “You changed your panties.”

You'd forgotten all about it in your worry earlier, but now you abruptly remembered that you had indeed changed your underwear and bra after the three of you had gotten reacquainted in the SUV. Something prettier graced your body now, something delicate that had Dean making a breathless noise as he cupped your ass. “Bra too? You dirty girl, giving us a show no matter when we meet.” He greedily groped over your chest, squeezing your breasts through the confines of your almost too-tight bra before unhooking the strap. “I appreciate the gesture, but I prefer you with nothin' on.”

“Same here.” You managed to reply, getting a laugh out of Roman before he buried his face in your neck, kissing and gently biting.

Dean flipped you over without warning, Reigns flinching back at the speed of his movement. The 'Lunatic' wasted no time pulling your shirt off over your head, his patience seeming to have run out. “Need to be inside you.” he grated, fumbling with his own pants. “Ride me, fuckin' ride me like you rode my brother earlier please, please--”

“Shh, it's okay. I'm here. We're here.��� You soothed from your position on your back, helping him with his jeans. “There's no rush, Dean.”

“Easy man, c'mon.” Roman said quietly, “I know you're worked up. It'll be alright. Our baby girl always takes care of us.”

“I know, I'm...I'm sorry. I just...I've been thinking I was going to lose you guys this whole time, I-I missed you so much. Both of you. You're...you're so good to me.” Dean's shoulder started twitching and you and Roman both reached out at the same time. Ambrose's laugh was choked as he cupped your chin carefully and wrapped his other hand around Roman's wrist. “So fucking good to me.”

Roman twisted his hand until he was the one holding Dean, easily shoving his brother over onto his back. “Strip him.” The larger man's tone brooked no argument and a tremor of excitement raced through you when he caught Dean's other hand and pinned it down to the bed. You quickly scrambled to get Ambrose's pants off then hesitated as you reached for his shirt, unsure of how Roman expected you to remove it.

“Roman?”

The black-haired man snorted, ducking his head and grabbing the bottom of Dean's shirt with his teeth. Ambrose's face was bright red and his chest heaved, arms flexing helplessly in the ironclad grip of his Shield-brother. “Ro, Christ...” he gasped while Roman shoved his shirt up over his chest to bunch awkwardly under his arms. “You are...you're fuckin'...”

“Did earlier. It's your turn now.” Reigns said curtly, balancing himself on one good knee as he shuffled to the side. “He's all yours, baby girl.”

Dean cried out when you mouthed over the underside of his cock, his fists clenching in Roman's grip. “Fuck, fuck fuck.” He chanted, whole body writhing. “Oh God, fucking fuck yes, darlin', yes, please, yes-”

You moved up to kiss him on the forehead, searching his eyes for a second. “Is this alright?”

Reigns nodded, a slow smirk making its way across his face. “Not nice to tease him, baby girl. Even if he loves it.”

“P-please--” Dean whimpered. “Missed you...” The second you lowered yourself onto his cock, Roman released his hands. Ambrose grabbed your hips tightly, grinding your body against his own and huffing out a breath through clenched teeth. “Jesus fuck--”

You threw your head back, closing your eyes as you tried to roll your hips smoothly. Reigns' hands were suddenly on your waist, the larger man easily rocking you back and forth. “Like this.” he murmured in your ear, making you gasp when he lifted you and then quickly lowered you back down. “He needs it fast and rough, baby girl. Don't tease.” Ambrose's cock throbbed inside you, rubbing over your spot as you circled your hips.

Roman gave a rumble of approval while Dean groaned loudly, the 'Lunatic' fisting his hands in the blankets. “Not fair, I-” You lowered your head to sink your teeth into his neck, making Ambrose shudder violently and cup the back of your head. “O-oh darlin'...” he sighed, bucking his hips when Roman shoved you back down onto him. “That's right, bite me, mark me. I'm all yours darlin'.”

“Mine.” You said softly, your free hand moving to cover Roman's on your waist. “You're both mine.” You felt Reigns tighten his grip and you slid your hips back, laughing breathlessly when he pushed you forward again and then pulled you back, essentially fucking you with Dean's cock.

“Look at you baby girl, God.” Roman murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of your shoulder. “You take his dick so good, is it good Uce?”

“G-God, yeah.” Dean answered shakily, his eyes rolling back when you picked up the pace. Reigns' hands directed you, urging you up and down in a pitching motion that had Ambrose crying out. “Damn darlin', if I didn't know better I'd say y-you missed me too.” Dean breathed, twining his fingers through your own.

You had missed him, immensely. The weeks had been torment, the 'Lunatic Fringe' seeming to do everything in his power to try and put on a brave face after he lost his belt. He had shrugged off your reassurances, saying that it didn't matter, it was just some metal and leather, what matters is that I'm still kicking.

You watched as the disappointment that he tried so hard to hide ate away at him until he finally erupted, exploding tonight when the crowd was cheering for AJ. Dean had lunged for Styles, pummeling the other man's head as Shane and the referee fought to separate them.

“Ambrose's own mother doesn't trust him!”

You shivered, squeezing his hand. “I missed you so much. Please...don't leave again, okay?” You knew you were begging and pitifully at that, but you hardly cared. Because Dean's face lit up like he understood exactly what you meant, and he tugged you down for a gentle kiss.

“I won't. Promise. Win or lose, I promise.” Ambrose said softly. “I'm no good when it comes to missing you, darlin'.”

Roman bit down on your shoulder, making you quake and tighten around Dean. “Baby girl, I want you to come for him. Show him how much you missed him.” Reigns snarled. “Give him something good.” His hand slid down your stomach to firmly stroke your clit, which until this point had been untouched. You cried out, arching back helplessly against Roman. “That's right, baby girl. You take him nice and deep, love my brother.”

Dean sobbed out a breath at Roman's order. “Dammit, Ro-”

“You deserve this, you deserve so much more than this. I've been fucking neglecting you. My brother, my uce.” Reigns said soothingly, his free hand splaying on Dean's heaving abdomen. “Missed you. Missed this, but missed you more. Rollins does too, he said so. We've all missed the hell out of you.”

A few tears trickled down Ambrose's cheeks, the lighter-haired man seeming bewildered. “R-Really...?”

Your hips bucked as you came and Dean dragged you in for another kiss, hot and sloppy as you trembled against him. His mouth eagerly took the noises you made while Roman's hands cupped your breasts, the larger man teasingly circling his thumbs around your aching peaks as Ambrose thrust up into you. “Mm, darlin', Ro, the shit you guys do to me.” Dean panted, “You have no fucking clue, no fucking clue.”

Roman hid his relieved smile in the skin of your shoulder, but you could still feel it. “Come for us, Uce. We need you to come.”

“Please--” you whimpered, startled when Dean grabbed your hips and pushed you down, making you take every inch of him as he came with a choked gasp.

“D-Damn. Ro. Darlin'. Fuck.” he panted, throwing an arm over his eyes as he fought to catch his breath. Roman's laugh was warm and he crushed the three of you together, picking Dean's back up off the bed with the force of his hug.

“I'm glad you're here, Uce. I'm glad you're both here.” Roman said sincerely, easily lifting you off Ambrose and pinning you to the mattress so he could kiss you properly. “Thank you, baby girl. It's so much fucking easier to be gentle to him if you're around.” he whispered as Dean struggled with the blankets. “He won't accept it any other way.”

Your eyes widened and you reached out, taking Dean's hand and holding it tightly. “You're ours.” You stated, sighing as Roman mouthed over your breast. “You're ours, Ambrose. Any time you need us, just say so.”

“But-”

“No, no buts.” Roman rumbled from his place at your chest. “A phone call. A text. Whatever you need to do, we're here for you no matter what.”

Dean sucked in an unsteady breath, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. “I don't want to be a fucking bother.”

“We're here for you.” Reigns repeated firmly. “Please, please bother us.”

You nodded in agreement, pressing a quick kiss to the back of Ambrose's hand. “Let us take care of you if you need it, Dean. Simple as that.”

Ambrose bit his lip, worrying the skin as Roman lazily rolled his tongue over your peak. His brow furrowed as he seemed to think hard. “...alright.” He said finally, tucking his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder and watching Reigns move over you. Dean's whole body relaxed, molding against yours comfortably. “Thank you. Both of you.” He rasped, his voice almost gone. “What the hell did I do to deserve you guys?”

You just kissed his forehead, smiling drowsily at him and running a hand through Roman's hair. “I think we should go check out that tub.”

My boys.

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