Warnings: Non-Con sex, offensive language, slash.

Cursing, he ran a hand through his hair, wincing slightly when pricks of pain erupted as the roots were tugged slightly. His head was still pounding like he was repeatedly being hit by a sledge hammer, and the ache his body gave out second to it. He could only hope Rollins and Ambrose was okay, as they were already dismissed when he went to check on them at the trainer's room.

Fucking Evolution.

The fucking team was supposed to be in pieces by the end of 2005 and it really was. Until their precious boss decided to remake it. And it wasn't the same Evolution like back then. Stronger, more experienced, and more powerful. 31 frigging championships combined, which Shield would probably never accomplish through their whole careers. The Shield wouldn't have a chance against them. But Roman wouldn't utter a word about that to his mates; team spirit was the best weapon he could use now.

"Ten minutes, Hunter, I'll be there in ten minutes," the sound of that voice was unmistakable as the person laughed. Roman pressed against the wall as the voice continued towards him from down the hall. Randy Orton was probably on his phone as he didn't hear any response to what the other man said. And he could only hear one set of footfalls, and Roman guessed that the man was alone. "Don't be an ass," he chuckled again into the phone. "They'd probably-"

The sentence was cut off in the middle as Roman appeared in the hallway, blocking Orton's way. The sky blue orbs widened, jaws dropping open in surprise as the younger man stood in the center of the corridor like a roadblock. Deadly silent settled on either side, the disturbing quietness even surfacing the confused callouts from the phone into the air. "Hunter, there's-"

Air whooshed out through Orton's lips as he was speared into the wall, a cry of pain escaping from him as his whole back crashed against the concrete. Grunting at his sore shoulders Reigns pulled back, casting a look at Orton and picked up the dropped phone from the floor, pressing it against his ear. "You messed with the wrong guys, boss."

And with one click, the call was gone. Triple H's panicked and raged threat was cut off mid sentence and Reigns left the boss hanging there. The fucker would probably get there by less than ten minutes and he had to hurry. A fist crashed against his nose, a cracking sound following just as he turned back to Orton. Cursing, he touched his throbbing nose and felt blood trickling down his nostrils; but it wasn't a time to dwell on that. Orton was swaying on his feet, eyes blinking rapidly as if to knock down a blackout, hissing like a snake enraged.

"And you put your fucking hands on the wrong guy, boy," sneering, he aimed for another punch, although the swing of his hand was slow enough for Reigns to catch it effortlessly. Wiping the blood that dripped down to his mouth he twisted the wrist he was holding, not hard enough to break but to cause stinging pain, another painful cry rewarding him as he flicked the wrist. He punched Orton using every drop of strength he had in his body, leaving blood finger prints at his cheek.

Kicking the nearest door open, Reigns shoved the other man into the room and slammed the door shut behind him. Before Orton could comprehence where he was, Roman grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his head on the work table. "Oh look, we're at your boss' office!"

"Fu-fucker," Randy panted, holding his head and dropping to his knees, feeling the world spin wildly around him as the inside of his head pounded mercilessly.

Roman chuckled for a several seconds and then grabbed Randy's head again, repeating the action.

"God," Randy moaned in pain, falling to his side on the floor, his hands protectively wrapped around his head.

"Get the fuck up," a kick landed to his ribs, knocking the air out of him. "I said get up," there was another kick.

"What the fuck do you want?!" Randy shouted, the loud sound vibrating pricks of pain through his skull.

"Are you that dense that you can't figure it out, Orton?" Roman snickered, fisting a handful of Randy's t-shirt and pulling him up to his knees. "Thought you'd be smart enough to figure it out."

"What the-" The sound of a zipper opening snapped Randy's eyes open. He attempted to push Roman away, to no avail as the next second a cock jammed down his throat. Roman's meaty fingers were digging to his jaws, nails angrily pressed against his soft flesh as hips thrust fastly into his mouth. Roman groaned, feeling the hot, wet carvern wrapped around his dick unintentionally sucking him off. Randy gagged, unable to breathe with a whole mouth of disgusting manhood. He placed his hands on Reigns' thighs, pushing him and scratching him and trying to pull away. Suddenly his head was yanked back, a string of saliva dripping down his chin as he was forced to look up at the larger man. "If you even try to bite me, I swear to god I'll fucking put you in a permanent concussion."

"I-I can give you anything you want," Randy stuttered, his mind not even doubting that Reigns was probably lying. "Anything but this-"

A slap echoed through the room. "Did I say you could talk, cunt?" He smirked as Randy dropped his head; and for a fraction of a second the thought of Orton might be used to this type of treatment flashed in his mind. "Open your mouth and suck it."

Randy reluctantly looked at the dick that was inches from his face, proudly jutting out with arousal. He momentarily glanced at Roman's face, before punching the dick out of nowhere. The blow wasn't that strong, as he was beaten but it was enough for him to reach the door. One second, one second, one more fucking second and he'd be out of this creep's hands. A sigh of relief almost fell out of his lips as he touched the door knob but then he was groaning in pain again, as his head connected with the hard surface of the door. He was sure that he would end up in a fucking concussion.

"Bitch," was breathed into his ear. "You think you could run away like that, huh? Not this time, Randy, not this time."

As his vision swirled, Randy felt his t-sirt tearing half and being yanked apart. He almost slid down the wall unconsciously if it wasn't for Roman holding him up, and when he barely came to his senses he was on the floor. The ripped fabric of his trunks were lying beside his face. The sudden pain in his lower parts made his eyes roll back to his head.

"Fu..ck" He moaned painfully, his hands reaching out and feeling Roman's muscular body hovering over him. "Fuck y-you."

"I am doing that," Roman chuckled, running his eyes over the slightly sweaty, toned body of Orton and the dazed look in his grey eyes. He slammed his hips against the tight firm ass repeatedly, moaning as the tight tunned hugged his veiny cock and rubbed heat on it. Randy reached up and scratched Roman's face, his nails rewarding him with red angry marks across his cheek as he screeched in anger. Roman pulled back, clenching up his fist but stopped, cocking his head to the side. Bringing down his hand he wrapped his long fingers around Randy's throat, squeezing tightly.

"Don't you touch me with your filthy hands, Orton," he hissed at a couching Randy, squeezing a bit more tight before letting go. Randy inhaled deep, breathing heavily. His whole body felt numb; but he could still feel Reigns's brutal thrusts tearing his ass.

"Oh," he gasped, his hands tightly clutching Roman's armour as a wave of pleasure rolled down up his body. He shuddered wanting to feel it again, and the he paused. He was not supposed to think that. But he gasped again when the leaking tip of Roman's cock crashed against his prostate. As Reigns' cold grey eyes pierced through him, the intensity that hugged his frame increased to the point the weak wall he had built around his mind to crack. His lips parted in a silent moan, and he spread his legs involuntarily. The voice inside his head was screaming him to stop, but Roman'z dark chuckles were more attractive. Slightly lifting his hips up as his mind hazed, Randy rocked his body to engulf the cock that was pounding into him.

Pleasure surged through him in strong waves, heat collecting and tightening his abdomen as he gasped out thirstily for more of those addictive rings of sweetness that rode his body.

Roman shook his head. "Shame, you will always be Evolution's bitch. Or you'd have made such a pretty sidekick for The Shield."

Randy didn't even hear that. He was far from caring. All he wanted was giving some much wanted attention to the throbbing member between his legs. "You like that don't you?" Roman cocked his head to the side in amusement, feeling his balls tightening as he edged close to his release. "Little slut," he breathed into Randy's ear, dropping a kiss behind it.

The other man responded with a moan, his body trembling with screaming permission for a release. Roman rolled his hips, agonizingly dragging the head of his cock across Randy's love bundle, savoring the whiny beg that reached his ears. "Beg me," he ordered, tightly gripping Randy's cock.

"N-no," was forced through gritted teeth, pride over taking Randy's mind and body. He almost yelped when the hand around his dick tightened painfully.

"Beg me," Roman started to move his hips back and forth violently, stabbing on Randy's sensitive spot. He watched as debating emotions struggled through the older man's eyes, but his lips were pursed so tight that even Roman doubted he wouldn't beg.

"Please," one whispered word spilled out from his lips, and Roman let go of the trapped cock, gloating in his pride. A few hard swifts later, Randy's body arched, a loud moan dropping from his lips as he came hard. Lust taking over him, Roman could only revel in the velvety soft walls of heat for a few more seconds. Sinking his teeth down on Randy's shoulder, ignoring the pained cry he gave out, Roman spilled blobs of cum into Randy's ass groaning in pleasure. He panted hard, thrusting into him until every drop of cum was inside of him. Pulling away, he looked at Randy's bruised and battered body- ribs and mid section sporting large purple bruises and a broken nose which now had blood smeared over half the face, and smirked wide. But most off all, Randy Orton was dirty.

Then he dashed forward, stopping inches from Randy's face and gazed into the terrified eyes that were desperately trying to hide the fear and grabbed his jaws. "Tell your Daddy, that it's our time now."

With that he pulled away completely, watching Randy's body curl up to a quivering ball as he zipped up his pants, and walked out of the room without a glance at him. That'd teach Triple H a lesson, for messing with his boys, for messing with their pride. The sight alone of Randy at his current situation would told them that when their power was challenged, the challenger would be rewarded by a strike. And it was only the beginning.

A review or two will be greatly appreciated.