#and what would it sound like as a playlist?

[pboogerswbb]

TOO LOST IN YOU - pt II

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc (Valerie) (i know first part is x reader... i'm sorry for changing to an oc but it makes more sense in a multipart series)

playlist, part I

DISCLAIMER!: this is fanfiction (note the word FICTION), this is not a true depiction of what i think paige is like, this is purely fiction for entertainment purposes

Warnings: toxic!paige, language, some sexual thoughts but no smut in this one (sorry guys), paige is an asshole fr

Wordcount: 4.9k (sorry)

A/N: i got so much love and so many people asking for more after the first part <3 ty all i'm so grateful! this will likely be around 7 parts so please buckle up lol. ALSO I'M SORRY FOR NO SMUT but let me cook guys it'll get good. the point of this part is to get inside paige's head and understand why she is the way she is, things will speed up in the next part i swear. OK GO READ ILYSM MWAH

-

It’s hard being Paige Bueckers. Not every 23-year-old had to deal with the kind of pressure I did. Most of the time it felt like the whole world was watching me, waiting for me to fail. It used to bother the shit out of me but after all the injuries, everything I’ve been through, I thrived on it. I knew I would prove them wrong - prove that I’m great, that I’m me. Just like my dad would tell me, over and over again. I knew I was great, so greatness was expected. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t come with a great deal of pressure. I always said pressure is a privilege. But sometimes when I lay in bed alone after a game, even a win, the pressure consumed me. I didn’t like to be alone. So I went around different girls’ beds, like they meant nothing. Because they didn’t - they were just a distraction from my own mind. Like I said, it’s hard being Paige Bueckers - hard being me.

“You okay babe?”

I’m shaken out of my thoughts, returning back to earth, back to the small bed I was lying in. The brunette next to me nuzzles her nose into my arm, watching me with that look I knew too well. Like she wanted something from me. I hated when girls looked at me like that.

I clear my throat, trying not to flinch as she wraps her arm around me. “Yeah Zoe, ‘m fine,” I murmur, letting her press herself to my side, her body sticky from our prior activities. Zoe was a cuddler, so she was usually last on my roster. It’s hard to plan your escape when a girl clings to you like a koala and worst of all, wants to sleep like that all night. I never got that, cuddling while sleeping. It gets hot, sweaty and cramped, I find it hard to believe anyone actually enjoys it. People just think they do because they’re in love or something. And I can’t afford to be in love. I had a natty to win.

Zoe’s slender finger brushes through my blonde hair and I can feel that claustrophobic, uncomfortable tightness inside me. Like I had to get out. Her dorm was dim and the air was heavy and slightly humid from the second round I had insisted on. The sheets stuck to my skin uncomfortably and her bed made this annoying sound everytime I moved or even breathed.

I turn my gaze to Zoe who’s looking at me, all googly eyed. Oh God. She smiles wide and presses a kiss to my cheek. The scent of her shampoo lingers in the air, the smell of banana and some kind of citrus. I had never liked banana scented things.

“Uh, anyway that was fun,” I mumble, and sit up on the bed, forcing her off me as gently as I could. “But I got practice early,” I add, reaching for my t-shirt and throwing it on.

I don’t notice the offended look on Zoe’s face. I grab my phone from the floor, checking my texts urgently.

Yo you tryna do a lil sum tonight?

I know ur not workin sooo we could have a lil fun like we did the other day

Valerie?

I sigh, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten as I stare at the read receipt underneath the texts. I tap on the back of my phone case impatiently, wondering if sending a fourth text would make me pathetic. Maybe I should just call her? Nah, I must be trippin.

Since I met her at Ted’s, Valerie was the first I called when being in my bed alone was tearing up my mind. But it didn’t mean anything, she was good in bed, good at making me forget who I was when I needed to. Also, I liked how she smelled, like coconut. And when she tangled her legs with mine I didn’t shutter or pull away. Sometimes I even wrapped my arm around her, pulling her into me. Not because I needed her. But because her body felt good against mine.

“Aw baby really?” Zoe whines in an overtly soft voice, wrapping the blanket around her as she scoots up on the bed. Her plump bottom lip, swollen from the rough kissing earlier turns into a pout. I quickly avoid her gaze, my eyes landing right onto the floor looking for my pants. “I wanted to cuddle.” Figures.

“I know baby, me too,” a lie, she would never know that though. “Can’t keep my hands off you if I stay tho and I need some sleep.” I lie more, never looking at her. She buys it though, like she does every time. It’s not like I liked to lie, but I also didn’t like disappointing people. Especially girls that looked at me like that. It would kill her to know I texted three girls after Valerie didn’t answer, and the only reason I was here was because Zoe was the fastest to reply..

I leave Zoe like that, naked in bed, pleading with her eyes. Sometimes I felt bad, because I could tell she really liked me. But then I remembered how hard it is to be Paige Bueckers, and I didn’t feel so bad. My job was to be great on the court. Everything else was just background noise.

-

I sit by the court, my chest heaving, throwing my head back to down some water. The squeaking of sneakers echo all around me, blending in with the sound of Geno’s voice screaming at some of the girls working on plays. Coach had been killing us today, not happy with how the last game had went. We had still won, but that was merely a reason to celebrate in his eyes. 

All day I’d been missing shots that should’ve been child’s play for me. I couldn’t help but beat myself up. I was distracted, unfocused. I had been killing myself on the court, hoping it would bring me to my senses. Geno had been the one to tap me on the shoulder and force me to take a break I wipe the sweat off my face into the inside of my shirt, and grab my phone.

Bro are u alive?

I’m gettin worried lowkey

i’m fine paige

Five days. For five days Valerie hadn’t texted me back anything but that. I clench my jaw in frustration, shaking my head to myself. It made no sense to me - yeah we had a falling out but that’s what we did. We bickered and then we kissed and made up, and that’s what we had been doing for months so why was she acting like this now? Well… maybe calling her a psycho bitch last week hadn’t been the best move on my part.

I don’t know why the things she did bothered me so much. When she didn’t laugh at my joke, when she didn’t answer my texts. I don’t know why I felt a constant nervousness swirl inside me when she was mad at me, I had no reason to care. I guess the pussy was just that good, it was tricking me into thinking I did.

“Va-le-r- oh that’s the girl from Ted’s!” KK slams her hands on my shoulders, coming up from behind me, peeping at my phone screen. In a panic, I lock my phone, hiding it from her view.

“Bro, you heard of privacy?” I complain, shoving her playfully as she sits next to me on the ground. KK snickers, her nose scrunching a little as she does. 

“Not since you started peeing with the door open,” the shorter girl next to me argues and I scoff loudly, my mouth wide open.

“One time! And I was drunk!!” I groan, my voice rising a little and eyes going wide. CD quickly turns around and shushes us, shaking her head. Me and KK quickly shut our mouths, my cheeks turning a little red from the scolding.

KK looks at me with raised brows, and then at the phone, and then at me again. Most of the team knew how I kept myself busy when I wasn’t training, but KK was the one who had joined me those countless times at Ted’s and sat with me at the corner table as I watched her. Valerie. There was something so intriguing about her I just had to keep coming back. I always thought once I’d get her to my bed and have my way with her, I’d be done with her, which is how it usually goes. Before I realised that one time turned into five, which turned into me being in her bed getting her right, not even caring about my own most of the time. Getting her off got me off. Just thinking about the way she looked when she came, the way her back arched, her perfect mouth fell open - I really had to stop thinking about her. Why was it so goddamn hard?

It won’t be hard to find another Valerie if she’s gonna keep this difficult act up.

“Girl trouble?” KK asks, her tone more genuine and I roll my eyes, looking at her sideways.

“Yea right,” I chuckle sarcastically, leaning my elbows to my knees. “Just need to find a new one is all.”

KK lets out a small laugh, sipping her water bottle. “The five you got not enough?” She jokes.

I smirk a little glancing at her. “Four,” I correct, as if that made it better somehow. “Just need someone… new,” I mumble, knowing it was the best bet to get my mind off Valerie. I’m sure eventually I’d find someone who was just as hot. Someone who also smelled like coconut.

“Then what do I say to Zoe.”

“Wh- Zoe?” 

KK nods and grins at me. “She texted me asking about your shoe size or sum, wanted to get a gift for you.”

“She- she what?” My voice is full of shock and I can feel the claustrophobic tightness quickly grow inside me. I had never given her KK’s number. She was doing too much. KK just nods, clearly finding the situation amusing.

“Bro…” I groan quietly, as to not piss off CD again, and lean my head forward, resting my forehead against my arms. Zoe clearly hadn’t understood what “just fucking around” meant. Sometimes shit slipped out of my mouth, sure, but I never let her think I liked her. I had to be careful with her.

KK kisses the her teeth and is still nodding. “Yeah… probably time to let her go huh?”

“That bitch is crazy I swear,” I murmur and KK laughs out loud again. I punch her arm, reminding her to keep quiet - an impossible task for KK. Before I can stop myself, the words just slip from my mouth.

“Ted’s tonight?” 

KK looks at me pointedly. “Valerie workin’?” she teases but I shake my head sternly.

“No man, fuck Valerie.” The words tasted bitter in my mouth. “Just need to find a new one, k?”

“You sure you’re not just gon’ ogle at her all ni-”

“KK.” I say sternly

KK nods. “Ok,” she repeats but I can tell from her tone she doesn’t buy it. She shuts up though knowing she could tease me about anything but anything about Valerie got under my skin. Truth was Valerie was working today. I just needed to see her just for a second. Just to know if I was overthinking it, or if she was really icing me out.

-

The Friday night had brought many other students to Ted’s as well, the bar pretty packed and the chatter loud over the music. KK had convinced Ice to join us so the three of us made our way in. The best thing about crowds was it made it easy to blend in, even for us. We push our way through to the bar, my eyes immediately searching for a glimpse of Valerie’s golden brown hair or her wide eyes. All I needed was to see her, I told myself. Even for a second. Then the twist in my stomach would straighten out.

“What can I get you?” The perky voice of the redhead asks over the buzzing crowd. I think her name was Natalie or something. Ice looks over the flyers on the bar, advertising a range of new drinks.

“Let’s try some of these,” Ice suggests and I grab the flyer from her hand. I didn’t really come here to drink so I couldn’t have cared less what we ordered. Especially now I realised Valerie wasn’t even here.

“Uhh yea can we get three Aperol Negronis,”

“You won’t like it,” a stern, but sweet voice interrupts the conversation. I’d recognise that voice anywhere.

Valerie steps out from the back, pinning her hair away from her face and for a moment our gazes meet. Her dark, wide eyes make me let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. For a moment I want to jump over the bar and touch her, to make sure she was really there and not just a mirage of my desires.

“W-why not?” I ask, my voice uncharacteristically shaky. Only with her I got like that. Suddenly my throat felt dry and the nervous twist in my stomach was turning into something you could only call butterflies. Of course I knew it couldn’t be butterflies, because that would mean I cared. I couldn’t afford to care. I didn’t have the time for distractions. I had a national championship to win.

Valerie scoffs looking away from me, ignoring me as I chase her gaze. “Because I know you won’t,” she says. The way she thought she knew me that well irked me. Still, I’d be lying if I said a part of me wasn’t beaming at the fact that I had her attention after a week of trying to chase her down.

I can’t help the pout that forms in defiance. She’s still ignoring me, pouring drinks for a group of boys clearly ogling at her - which only irked me more.

“Well… I want three of them,” I say matter of factly, trying to prove a point.

“Whoa Paige, maybe we should just get a shirl-” Ice chuckles but I shake my head.

“Three Aperol Negronis,” I dictate. Valerie’s stern eyes finally look at me. She looks almost a little scary, not pleased with my tone. “... please.” I add urgently, not wanting to get on her bad side. I guess some would say I already had.

Wordlessly, Valerie rolls her wide eyes and gets to mixing the drinks. I allow my eyes to wander for a moment, noticing how the white shirt of the work uniform hugged her body, the curve of her breasts making my mouth water. Just seeing her was enough to ignite the fire deep in my abdomen. The things I would do to leave with her tonight and take her to my bed, like I had so many times before. I would even settle for just some kissing. Just wanted to let my hands wander down her body, squeeze and feel where I wanted, with no urgency. I needed to feel all of her, wanted to drown in her.

“By card orrr…?” Valerie asks, clearly waiting for the payment. My eyes had gone glassy, and my lower lip had a small dent from the way I’d been biting down on it. I blink stupidly at her, struggling to calm myself down.

“I got it,” KK murmurs and slides her card to Valerie. I grab my drink, and the smell is enough to make my face scrunch up in disgust. I swear it smells like battery acid, and as I take a sip I notice - it also tastes like battery acid. I swallow the orange liquor, it burns on its way down making me cough a little. Valerie was watching me amused. I hated when she was right.

“People actually drink this and like it??” Ice asks, her voice hoarse from coughing as well. KK nods agreeing but I’m too stubborn to admit defeat.

“I actually like it,” I lie with a straight face, my fingers twitching around the glass as I try to get over the bitter aftertaste in my mouth.

“Oh right,” Valerie says, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she turns to another group of customers. I can’t help reach over the bar, my hand grabbing her arm. She turns back to face me, icier than I had ever seen. It shocks me enough that I let go of her, taken aback.

“What?” she asks, her voice filled with annoyance.

“You seen my texts?” is all I ask, and it comes out a little too desperate for my liking.

“Yes,” Valerie says matter of factly. I wait for her to continue but she doesn’t.

“Uh… well thought we’d link up or something,” I add, shifting on my feet as I do.

Valerie sighs in frustration and takes a deep breath to compose herself.

“I’m good,” is all she says and flashes me an ice cold smile. I feel a strange pang in my heart. She had iced me out before, but not like this. Usually seeing her face to face was enough for her to forget our petty little arguments, enough to get her on me again. “I have work,” she adds before finally returning to serve the other customers.

I stand there for a moment, astonished. An uncomfortable ache that had been wavering in my chest was growing too intense for me to ignore anymore. Maybe it was all my fault after all. I had told her I wouldn’t sleep with anyone else and in the moment I had meant it. But then I remembered the stakes. Last year to win a national championship, last year to prove my greatness. I wasn’t going to mess it up just because of some girl. A relationship would be nothing more than a distraction, an unnecessary responsibility. I had enough on my plate. Valerie was selfish for wanting me all to herself. She didn’t understand what she was asking for. Maybe calling her a psycho bitch wasn’t so far off.

I feel someone bump into my back and turn around to find a girl, cheeks blushed and apologetic. I see her eyes widen in recognition - it was always that moment when I knew I could have this girl if I wanted. 

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, I’m a little drunk,” the girl giggles and I offer her an easy smile. I consider taking this girl home, imagining the way I’d lure her into my bed, just a little bit of sweet talk and a smirk would be enough, a hand on her waist, thumb rubbing her skin and soon she’d get this look on her face like she had to have me. It would be so easy, and I wouldn’t have to think about Valerie at all.

But the pain in my chest doesn’t go away, even when I let my mind wander further, how this girl would look underneath me, whimpering while I fuck her. It did nothing to make the pain go away.

“‘S fine,” i murmur and decide to ignore the way she was blinking at me, biting her bottom lip. I grab my drink from the bar, and push past her, finding KK and Ice sitting at our usual table. They both look at me, but don’t ask where I’d been. They both knew better. I sip my drink, cursing to myself in my head about ordering it. With sheer stubbornness I finish it quickly, finding that easier than taking small sips. 

“You’re never picking what we drink again,” KK scoffs, copying me, her face scrunching involuntarily when she finishes her drink. But I barely register her words, as I lean back in the chair, head tilting back to watch Valerie.

She’s giggling with Natalie, throwing her head back in amusement. The chatter in the bar is deafening, but I swear I could hear her laugh in my head vividly. Like my brain had memorised each tone of her voice. There was something different about Valerie, she always shined the brightest in every room she was in. Even the dingy bar was lit up by her. She wasn’t even necessarily extremely lively. It was her mere presence that just made everything better. 

I noticed it the first time I ever saw her, early september. All she did was walk past me on campus, talking lively into her phone. It was her voice I had heard before even seeing what she looked like. Her voice had been enough to make me have to see her. Of course she hadn’t even looked my way, not even a glance. That was the moment I knew I had to have her.

“You enjoy it?” Valerie asks KK and Ice, fully ignoring me as she walks to our table to clean up. I watch the golden bracelet she always wore dangling on her wrist as she grabs the empty glasses. I lean back and tilt my head to look up at her, needy for her attention. Licking my lips I look her up and down, that usually worked enough to get her naked. But now, she didn’t even glance at me. Annoyance grew within me as she chatted with KK, laughing at her jokes.

It was then when my eyes moved from her lips to her neck that I saw it - a dark bruise underneath her ear, right on the spot where she liked to be kissed. I knew, because I had left many bruises there and gotten scolded for it. But this wasn’t mine. This was someone else’s.

“Okay well see ya around,” Valerie smiles and turns to take the glasses to the back. I feel the pang in my chest quickly flip, turning into anger. I was furious. Who did she think she was? Sleeping around with someone else, not answering my texts, letting someone else mark her like that. I felt my body turn hot, and without a word to KK and Ice I get up from my seat, nearly knocking it over as I take quick strides to reach Valerie, following her into the back, ignoring the STAFF ONLY sign on the door.

My steps are heavy and loud as I reach her, standing by the sink, handling the dirty glasses. I was shaking my head to myself, trying to control my anger. But it was getting the best of me.

“Staff only plea-” Valerie starts and turns to me, unable to miss the redness of my face, the clenched jaw and the way I was biting on the insides of my cheeks. “Paige?” she asks, furrowing her brows, confused.

The pounding in my head grows and I let out a scoff, not feeling in control of myself. My brain was moving faster than I could follow, I felt lightheaded. I felt furious. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask, my voice loud. I didn’t really care about being overheard.

“Huh?” Valerie asks, clearly bewildered, but already getting defensive in response to how I was acting.

“What, you don’t text me, call me or nothing? Because you’ve been too busy fucking some other bitch?” I yell, my hand pointing to her neck. Valerie’s eyes widen in realisation but quickly turn angry too. 

“I- WHAT?” She yells back and takes a step towards me.

“Don’t play dumb. So who is it?” I say sternly, grinning bitterly at her, my eyes looking down at her.

She scoffs and rolls her eyes shaking her head which only infuriates me more.

“I said. Who. Is. It?” I repeat, grabbing her arm. She pushes my hand off her, anger growing on her face as her brows furrowed further.

“How is it any of your business who I sleep with Paige?” She argues.

She had a point. We weren’t exclusive. Matter of fact it was pretty hypocritical of me to be so angry when I had a roster of girls on my phone, ready to answer my calls at any time of day. My anger had taken over though, and the little sense I had when it came to Valerie, was completely gone.

I throw my head back and chuckle bitterly, provoking her further. “See I knew you’re a lotta things but didn’t know you were a slut too,” I hiss, the words slipping out without much thought. I couldn’t think of anything but how furious I felt.

Valerie laughs loud, but it’s not the sweet laugh I was used to. It was a bitter, angry laugh.

“Me?! You’ve slept with every girl that swings your way on campus and even some that don’t! You’re the slut Paige!” she screams, her wide eyes burning with anger, her finger coming up to point at my face. It pissed me off, the way it was assigning blame, like all of this was my fault. Like it wasn’t she who slept with someone.

“I don’t owe you anything!” she declares, her voice revealing a hint of hurt, the way it cracked slightly. “I’m done with you. I’m serious Paige. Done,” she adds, her voice calmer, but more authoritative. “Now get out of my bar.”

My face was hot and red, my chest was heaving and my head spun. The hurt in her voice made me waver, made my chest ache more. I blink at her stupidly as she turns back to the dishes, already missing having her attention. I was fine with the yelling, the fighting, as long as it meant she was looking at me, or talking to me. But now she’s done with me? Fine, so was I. Wouldn’t take me longer than a day to find a new Valerie.

“Pshh whatever,” I murmur and storm out of the back, heading fast towards the exit. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, my chest felt tight and I could taste the bitter Aperol on my tongue still. It made me nauseous,

I’m gasping for air once I feel the chilly breeze of february hitting my skin. The silence outside was overwhelming, forcing me to realise the rapid pace of my own thoughts. My mind was swirling with flashing images of Valerie, on top of someone, looking down at her like she did at me, the idea of her moaning someone else’s name made me sick.

“Fuck!” I shout, unable to control myself. A group of girls near me turn to look at me but return to their conversation when I sit myself down on the curb. What a standard I was setting for student athletes everywhere right now.

My eyes burn and before I notice, a tear rolls down my cheek. I bury my face into my hands and rub my jaw, my anger easing with each exhale. I didn’t know why I was crying, I didn’t understand any of this. I couldn’t believe the things I had said, the way I had acted. I was supposed to be disciplined, in control, but I felt so out of control when it came to Valerie.

“Paigey…” KK murmurs and suddenly I realise her and Ice are standing in front of me, looking down at me sympathetically. Embarrassed, I wipe the tears away and try to steady my breathing.

“Uhh sorry just gimme a sec guys,” I sigh looking at the ground. They sit on either side of me, wrapping their arms around me. I lean into Ice’s shoulder and I’m grateful how they don’t pry, or talk. We just sit there in silence for a while.

I take a deep sigh and lift my head back up, chewing on my bottom lip. I glance at both of the girls sitting next to me, grateful for the friends I had. At least I got one thing right.

“I dunno what just happened,” I sigh, shaking my head thinking back to my behaviour. The shame I felt made my cheeks turn a shade of red.

KK chuckles softly and ruffles my hair affectionately. “I do,” she mumbles.

I furrow my brows and turn to look at her. She looks back at me like whatever was about to come out of her mouth was obvious. KK and Ice glance at each other before KK opens her mouth to speak.

“Bro you have feelings for her.”

Oh?

Oh.

My mouth parts in realisation as I move my gaze from KK to the pavement. It’s just us now, sitting in silence, the sounds of passing cars and the muted sounds of the bar the only noise in the chilly evening.

“C’mon P boogers, let’s go home,” Ice says, standing up and reaching a hand down to lift me up. 

KK hops up and nods. “You need some Tru Fru,” she adds.

With a nod, I let them pull me up, following them to the car. I had feelings for Valerie. Shit. I'd just have to find a way to get over it - I couldn’t afford all this. Not right now. Not with the world watching, waiting for me to fail. Not with a national championship on the line.

-

taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @wbbismypassion69 @bueckersfive @onlyhereforpazzi @lovegalor333 @mandyvivic @frankoceanlvr303039 @angryflowerwitch @taylynbueckers44 @mamixdanni @rosemariiaa @d3arapril @darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @vbueckers @sageworld @makethemhoesmad @sierrale8ne @tndaqlifwy @justliketoreadsowhat @oreo2sblog @sftlyortega @slvt4her

NEXT ONE WILL BE HOTTER I PROMISE

[naamahdarling]

I'm probably going to piss some people off with this, but.

The use of AI and machine learning for harmful purposes is absolutely unacceptable.

But that isn't an innate part of what it does.

Apps or sites using AI to generate playlists or reading lists or a list of recipes based on a prompt you enter: absolutely fantastic, super helpful, so many new things to enjoy, takes jobs from no-one.

Apps or sites that use a biased algorithm (which is AI) which is not controllable by users or able to be turned off by them, to push some content and suppress others to maximize engagement and create compulsive behavior in users: unethical, bad, capitalism issue, human issue.

People employing genAI to create images for personal, non-profit use and amusement who would not have paid someone for the same service: neutral, (potential copyright and ethics issue if used for profit, which would be a human issue).

People incorporating genAI as part of their artistic process, where the medium of genAI is itself is a deliberate part of the artist's technique: valid, interesting.

Companies employing genAI to do the work of a graphic designer, and websites using genAI to replace the cost of stock photos: bad, shitty, no, capitalist and ethical human issue.

People attacking small artists who use it with death threats and unbelievable vitriol: bad, don't do that.

AI used for spell check and grammar assistance: really great.

AI employed by eBay sellers to cut down on the time it takes to make listings: good, very helpful, but might be a bad idea as it does make mistakes and that can cost them money, which would be a technical issue.

AI used to generate fake product photos: deceptive, lazy, bad, human ethical issue.

AI used to identify plagiarism: neutral; could be really helpful but the parameters are defined by unrealistic standards and not interrogated by those who employ it. Human ethical issue.

AI used to analyze data and draw up complex models allowing detection of things like cancer cells: good; humans doing this work take much longer, this gives results much faster and allows faster intervention, saving lives.

AI used to audit medical or criminal records and gatekeep coverage or profile people: straight-up evil. Societal issue, human ethical issue.

AI used to organize and classify your photos so you don't have to spend all that time doing it: helpful, good.

AI used to profile people or surveil people: bad and wrong. Societal issue, human issue, ethical issue.

I'm not going to cover the astonishingly bad misinformation that has been thrown out there about genAI, or break down thought distortions, or go into the dark side of copyright law, or dive into exactly how it uses the data it is fed to produce a result, or explain how it does have many valid uses in the arts if you have any imagination and curiosity, and I'm not holding anyone's hand and trying to walk them out of all the ableism and regurgitated capitalist arguments and the glorification of labor and suffering.

I just want to point out: you use machine learning (AI) all the time, you benefit from it all the time. You could probably identify many more examples that you use every day. Knee-jerk panicked hate reflects ignorance, not sound principles.

You don't have beef with AI, you have beef with human beings, how they train it, and how they use it. You have beef with capitalism and thoughtlessness. And so do I. I will ruthlessly mock or decry misuse or bad use of it. But there is literally nothing inherently bad in the technology.

I am aware of and hate its misuse just as much as you do. Possibly more, considering that I am aware of some pretty heinous ways it's being used that a lot of people are not. (APPRISS, which is with zero competition for the title the most evil use of machine learning I have ever seen, and which is probably being used on you right now.)

You need to stop and actually think about why people do bad things with it instead of falling for the red herring and going after the technology (as well as the weakest human target you can find) every time you see those two letters together.

You cannot protect yourself and other people against its misuse if you cannot separate that misuse against its neutral or helpful uses, or if you cannot even identify what AI and machine learning are.

[capseycartwright]

you're my sun, my moon, my guiding star

“Fine, let’s have it your way then,” Eddie slammed his phone down on the kitchen table. “You set me up a dating profile then – Hinge, Grindr, whatever you fucking want, Buck. Set me up a dating profile, and you pick which random man I need to sleep with to make it so you feel okay about wanting me.” 

in which evan buckley gets dumped, gets drunk with his best friend, realises he's in love with said best friend, and lets his abandonment issues get the best of him. because your first is never your last, right? so buck can't be eddie's first: he needs to be his last.

ao3 link

Buck was driving himself to Eddie’s before he could really even think about it, the autopilot of his brain engaging and getting him behind the wheel, and on the road to his best friend’s house without needing much thought at all. Eddie was who he needed, in that moment – not Maddie, and her sage advice, not Hen, who’d be clever, and logical about it all. No, he needed Eddie. Eddie, who inexplicably opened the front door in his underwear and a pink shirt. Eddie, who let them sit in silence, a playlist churning out eighties rock for a full twenty-three minutes (Buck checked) before Eddie said anything at all. 

“So,” Eddie set his empty drink down, gesturing to Buck for a second. Buck twisted the cap off before he handed it over, adding to the pile on the coffee table. “What happened? You said that you and Tommy were going to the movies tonight.” 

Buck groaned, the sound loud in the quiet of Eddie’s house. “I was supposed to be,” he slumped back onto the couch. “But then he dumped me.” 

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “He dumped you?”

“He dumped me,” Buck confirmed. “Because I am a deeply unlovable individual who is going to die alone.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I think you might be being dramatic there.”

“I’m not!” Buck protested. “Eddie, everyone I date dumps me – or leaves me. That apparently doesn’t even change when I’m dating a man. It’s not – I thought it would be different, with Tommy.” 

“Because he’s a man?” Eddie’s confusion wasn’t judgemental – no, Eddie never judged him, Buck was sure of that much. It was sincere confusion, his best friend wanting to understand where Buck was coming from.

“Yeah? No? I mean – maybe,” Buck huffed. He wasn’t entirely sure how to articulate himself. “I guess – I guess I just thought that now I know who I am, that I’m like – consciously aware I’m bisexual – it might be different. That maybe it didn’t work out before because there was this part of me that I didn’t know, or understand, and that had affected my relationships because I wasn’t bringing my like, whole self to the table. But if it didn’t work with Tommy, then that’s not why. Right? Then the problem is me.” 

Eddie’s expression softened. “I don’t think the problem is you, Buck.”

“It has to me! I’m the only common denominator here.”

Buck wanted to cry. He wanted to lie down on Eddie’s couch and cry until he had nothing left – and it wasn’t about Tommy, really, because Buck had liked Tommy, but the end of their relationship wasn’t what was making him feel so devastated. It was the idea of Tommy, more than anything else – what Tommy represented. A happily ever after that Buck was falling short of all over again. 

“What did Tommy say, exactly? Maybe – maybe you’re spiralling, and he gave you a good reason that you’re not seeing.” 

“He – I asked him to move in with me.” 

“Buck.”

Eddie sounded long-suffering. Buck had earned that. He knew that much. “I know,” he knew it had been the wrong move. The words were barely out of his mouth, and Buck knew it had been the wrong move – but that was sort of his thing, to cling desperately to relationships that didn’t work because he was so terrified of being alone. “I just – I felt comfortable with him, and the whole Abby thing was weird.”

“Really weird,” Eddie agreed, wincing. 

“But not the kind of weird I couldn’t get past. Right? He came over tonight, and I told him – why be apart when we could be together. Then, he said he couldn’t move in with me, because if he did, I would only break his heart,” Buck sighed. He wouldn’t intend to. That’s what Tommy had said – but who ever planned to break someone’s heart? No one was that cruel. Maybe they were – but Buck wasn’t. He’d never wanted to break anyone’s heart, even if that had been the end result sometimes. 

Eddie was quiet for a second. “Did he say why he thought you’d break his heart?”

Buck’s beer burned his throat as he took another gulp, the sour taste lingering. “He said that he was my first, but he wasn’t my last.” 

read the rest on ao3

[makuzume]

Aaaaa HUGEEE HONORED TO HAVE BEEN TAGGED LOVESSS !!! You are so sweet😭😩💖 Here's mine!!

🔅Favorite color(s): Green! (since birth idk why), and black bc I always wear it

🔅Favorite flavor(s): Chocolate🍫, coffee flavor☕️

🔅Favorite genre(s): Like the previous rb, I write romance stuff but I actually mostly prefer stories involving less romantic love in it😭 I like seinen type, fantasy, supernatural, a dark theme with great world building.

🔅Favorite music: Huge fan of JP music and alt rock. (Notably Shinsei Kammattechan, Ado, Takayan, Sayuri, My First Story, Official HIGE DANDISM, Ichiko Aoba, Masakatsu Takagi, MCR, et.) Playlist of what I usually listen to is on my 'about me' :)

🔅Favorite movies: movies uhhh I don't have one but in anime films definitely works directed by Mamoru Hosada somethinng about how they're made is🤌

🔅Favorite Series: AOT OKAY? idc if it sounds too common and mainstream I wrote thousands of words on an essay explaining why it's such a great piece of fiction and I am honored to have been born the same time it was made. How everything connects to it's origin, world building, no fan service, theme, portrayal of different sides in war ughh

🔅Last song: Rustage's BLOOD ALUCARD rap

🔅Last movie: Hate to admit it but it was something on the trending list of Netflx bc that was what my family was playing idk what the title was

🔅Currently reading: Honestly just the Genshin fics that come on my feed🧍ehem Xiao

🔅Currently watching: Anime mostly. Cowboy Bepop, Mosnter, Saiki, One Piece ep 600+, Hellsing. Would love to watch Evangelion, Lain, Mononoke, etc. but I have to wait to watch it w/ my sister

🔅Currently working on: JJK multi-part angst SMAU (I know how much you peeps love that🫣😉), JJK fluff SMAU. Part 5 Toge fic. And hopefully finish my multi-charac Genshin one (I'm really busy at uni pls forgive me🙏😞)

No pressure tags!! Just only a couple of the lovely moots and blogs I love <3

@hoshikarasu @cursed-peanut @odoraful @kirishwima @gojom0jo @witch-hazels-musings @sixosix @loves4ge @kinichval @uzurakis @obsesssedblerd

ANYONE INTERESTED IS WELCOME TO REBLOG!!🥰💕

Ask & Answered!

tagged by @toastdarling 🌸 thank you!

◈   TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU’D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER!

favourite colour(s): every shade of blue

favourite flavour(s): cinnamon, cherry, teriyaki

favourite genre(s): fantasy, magical realism, mystery

favourite music: honestly I'll listen to pretty much anything, from hard rock to classical music, but I have a special preference for 80s hits and Japanese indie

favourite movie(s): Pride and Prejudice (2005), Howl's Moving Castle, Shrek 2

favourite series: Good Omens, One Piece, Haikyuu!!, Gravity Falls

last song: Your body is a weapon by The Wombats

last movie: Glass Onion

currently reading: The house in the cerulean sea by TJ Klune

currently watching: One Piece, Buddy Daddies

currently working on: in a creative sense, working on a zosan royal au fic, several fanart pieces and a few fantasy au concepts I'm excited about; in a personal sense, working on my insecurities, hoping to improve my lifestyle by trying sports for the first time (kendo, specifically!) and studying for a competitive exam

@goldenandhappy @ftld42 @bryttdaffodil @doremiinas @ats0mi @mafuwara @miyakiyoomii @heart-cores @omiishii

[vitalverstappen]

To Be Your Muse - G. Russell

summary: as you and George navigate your relationship, you do the one thing you know how to: write a song.

pairing: George Russell x singer!reader

warnings: none

word count: 5.5k

masterlist

The lights dimmed. The crowd’s energy swelled, a crescendo of anticipation, and you could feel it in your chest - the electric hum that ran through Wembley Stadium. It was the last night of the European leg of your world tour. The opener had just wrapped up, and now, with every second that ticked by, the air was charged with an almost unbearable energy. 

You took a moment backstage, standing in the silence before the storm. It was always like that right before you stepped on stage - the strange, almost sacred pause between worlds. The rehearsals, the travel, the soundchecks, the fans, all of it building to your performances. You knew you’d be leaving Europe behind for a while, but that night? That night it felt like the whole continent was there, in that moment, ready to explode. 

The intro started, the low hum of the synth, the heartbeat of the drum pulled you forward, drawing the crowd closer to the edge. The lights flashed - blue, purple, white - and then, just like that, you stepped out onto the stage. The roar of the crowd hit you like a wave, the sea of faces illuminated by the lights, their arms raised, their voices joined together in that one collective sound. It was overwhelming in the best way. 

The second George saw you step onto stage, he felt it - the shift. The crowd exploded, and even though he wasn't entirely sure what to expect, there was an undeniable pull to the moment. It was all so big, so charged, like the buildup before the lights go out on the racetrack, and the engines start revving. He couldn’t help but be caught up in it. 

Lando and Alex, along with their girlfriends, had dragged him out to the concert. He wasn’t too familiar with your discography - only the songs that were played on loop on the garage playlist. Sure they were good. Really good. But here? In the stadium, with thousands of fans around him, George started to understand what all the fuss was about. It was something different. There was something real about it, about you. 

There was something about the way you moved, the way you owned the stage. Your presence was effortless, but you had this force about you, this intensity that pulled everyone in, making it impossible not to watch. 

As the night went on, he found himself not just lost in the music, but lost in you. There was a moment during one of the slower tracks, you were sat on a stool facing in George’s direction. The entire stadium was so quiet, so still, and all he could think about was how, for a moment, it felt like you weren’t just singing to the audience. It felt like you were singing to him - like there was something connecting the two of you in the darkness. 

Stop it he told himself You don’t even know her. 

But no matter how hard he tried to focus on anything else, he couldn’t pull his eyes away. His mind wandered to thoughts of the next time you’d be in town, or if there was any chance you might ever meet backstage, or what it would be like to talk to you for just five minutes, to really talk - not just about music, but about life, about anything. His heart skipped a beat at the thought. 

At the end of the night, you disappeared under the stage, along with any hope George had that he’d see you again. Wembley Stadium was still buzzing with energy, the echo of your last song reverberated in George’s chest like a memory he couldn’t shake. 

Lando was already tugging at George’s sleeve, urging him towards the exit. “Come on, mate, let’s go grab a drink. We’re all heading out to the after-party.” 

But George wasn’t listening. His thoughts were elsewhere. He stood still, rooted to the spot, surrounded by people filing out, but all he could see in his mind was you. How you commanded the room without ever seeming to try, how your eyes locked with his for just a brief, electric moment. The way you sang, like you meant every word. Like you were telling a story that only the crowd could understand. And George, somehow, felt like you were telling it to him.

Stop it. 

He tried to shake the thought from his head. You were just another performer. He was a racecar driver. There was no world where those two things overlapped. But as he moved toward the backstage area with the others, a strange sense of yearning crept over him. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t let go of the image of you on that stool, looking out at the crowd, as if searching for something. 

“George, you okay?” Lando’s voice broke through his thoughts. George looked up, blinking as if he’d just woken up. 

“Yea, just - just thinking” 

Lando raised an eyebrow, but before he could say anything more, Alex chimed in. “Mate, you were loving it. We all were. Don’t tell me you’re getting all soft on us”

George managed a weak smile and nodded. They made their way through the backstage area, the sound of laughter and chatter filled the hallway, but George barely heard it. His eyes scanned the shadows, hoping to catch a glimpse of you - anything, really. It felt ridiculous. What was he even hoping for? That you’d be just standing there, waiting to talk to him? He wasn’t that naive. But still, he couldn’t help himself. 

He caught a few of the crew members milling around, but no sign of you. 

Lando shot him a look, as if sensing something was off. “You sure you’re good?” 

“Yeah, just-” George stopped. He was about to say something, but the words felt hollow. How could he explain that a moment of music, a few glances exchanged in the middle of a stadium, had left him feeling like he was on the verge of something that he couldn’t quite touch?

But then, just as he was about to leave, it happened.

The door at the end of the hall opened, and out you walked - head down, talking to one of the crew members, your expression still glowing with the afterglow of the performance. You donned an oversized hoodie now, but George still recognized the spark in your eyes. You looked tired, but content. The kind of tiredness only a performance like that could bring. 

George froze. His heart did that weird skip thing again. His mind blanked, the rush of adrenaline from the concert still flooding his veins. He felt completely out of place, like an imposter in a world he didn’t belong to. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. 

It wasn’t until you looked up and your eyes met his that everything stopped. For a moment, everything else in the room faded away. Your gaze lingered on him for a beat too long, and for that split second, he swore he saw a flicker of recognition, maybe even something warmer in your expression. 

He had to say something, but the usual charm and confidence he had behind the wheel, the jokes he’d throw around with Lando, had all vanished. All that remained was a sense of awkwardness that made him want to disappear. 

“Hey” he managed to say, his voice a little breathier than he intended. You stopped walking, your brow raising slightly as if surprised, but not displeased. 

“Hey” you said, your voice soft, but warm. “You’re uh, George, right? George Russell?” 

She knows who I am? George’s heart hammered in his chest. He nodded, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “Yeah, that’s me.” He let out a nervous laugh.

“It’s so nice to meet you. I’m a big fan” you said with a genuine smile, stepping a little closer

George felt his heart race, a mix of disbelief and excitement running through him. A big fan? Of him? The thought barely had time to register before he found himself stumbling over his words, trying to find a way to sound cool, relaxed - anything but the nervous mess he was. 

“Oh, uh, thank you! That’s… I mean, wow, I’m flattered,” he chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as if it might help him gather his thoughts. His mind was still reeling from the fact that you knew who he was. And you weren’t just being polite; you seemed genuinely pleased to meet him. 

“Of course, I’ve been watching for years” you continued, your voice light and friendly “I’ll actually be at Silverstone next week. Mercedes invited me.” 

George’s mind nearly short-circuited. Silverstone? He tried to play it cool, but the news hit him like a bolt of lightning. The last place he expected to run into someone like you was in the pit lane at one of the biggest events on the racing calendar. 

“Really?” he asked, his voice coming out a little higher than usual “That’s awesome. I’ll be there too” 

You chuckled, “I would sure hope so. But it’ll be fun, I think. I’ve been to a few races before in a few different garages, but this is my first time at Silverstone. The energy there is insane.” 

George nodded, his mind racing. You were already deep into motorsport culture, and for some reason, that made George feel a little more grounded in this bizarre situation. There was a connection, however small, that had nothing to do with the stage lights, or the cheering fans. It was shared experiences - racing, the adrenaline, the crowds, the atmosphere. 

“Yeah” George said, his tone settling as he found his rhythm again “It’s one of the best tracks in the world. It’s… home for us. The crowd there, the history, it’s electric.” 

“Sounds incredible.” you said, nodding. “I can’t wait to see it all in person. Your eyes sparkled. 

The crew member you had been walking with approached you, muttering something to you. Your eyes glanced down the hall, then to George, and back down the hall as you talked. When the crew member disappeared again, you turned to face him. 

“I am so sorry to cut this short, but I have to go.” you said 

George’s heart sank for a moment, the sudden realization that the conversation was ending hit him harder than expected. He’d only just found his footing, and now you were about to leave. But he quickly forced a smile, not wanting to let any awkwardness creep in. 

“No, no, of course. I get it” he said “You’ve got your hands full with everything. I didn’t want to keep you” 

You smiled, the warmth of your eyes lingering as you met his gaze. “Thanks for understanding, George. It’s been nice talking to you” The genuine sincerity made a reappearance in your voice, making George feel a little lighter. 

“Yeah, same here.” he replied, his lips curving into a grin “And hey, I’ll see you at Silverstone, yeah?” 

“Definitely,” you said, your smile widening just as much “Take care, George.”

You stepped back, turning toward the backstage exit, but not before giving him one last look - your eyes locking for just a minute longer, as though there was something unspoken between the two of you. Then, you disappeared down the hall, leaving George standing there, still a little stunned. 

Lando, having been watching the entire exchange from a distance, couldn’t help but nudge George with an amused grin. “Well, well, well. I didn’t know you had it in you” 

George blinked, coming out of his daze, and shot Lando a half-hearted glare. “Shut up.” 

Alex, who had been casually scrolling through his phone, finally looked up. “Mate, you’re definitely gonna need to find a way to talk to her again. That was smooth.” 

George rolled his eyes “Stop it. It was nothing.” 

Lando grinned wider. “That was definitely something, dude. You’re telling me you’re not gonna try to catch up with her at Silverstone? You know, maybe grab a coffee or something?” he teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

George sighed, already feeling his face heat up. “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out. Not like I’ve got anything planned, right?” He tried to sound casual, but the excitement was bubbling under the surface. His mind was racing, replaying every word you’d just said, every glance, every moment of the conversation. 

“You two were practically flirting. “Alex said with a smirk, glancing at George from the corner of his eye

“Alex” George groaned, but he couldn’t stop the grin that crept onto his face “Just - let it go” 

Lando clapped George on the back “Nah, mate. It’s all good. You know you’re gonna be walking around Silverstone looking for her now.” 

======

The next week crept by, but before you knew it, you had just arrived at Silverstone. There was a palatable energy in the air, something that only equaled the moments before you stepped on stage. 

You walked through the narrow corridor between team garages, your eyes caught the branded uniforms of mechanics and engineers as they hustled to make final adjustments. The smell of fresh tire rubber mixed with the sharp scent of fuel made your pulse quicken. It was a whole new world, one you could only ever dream of getting a glimpse into. 

As you made your way to the Mercedes garage, you passed some familiar faces, including Lando and Alex, who waved at you with smiles. You smiled  and waved back, feeling a little less like an outsider there, a little more at home. You had spent time in the McLaren’s and Williams’ garages before, but today, you were headed to Mercedes. 

Lando caught up with you as you slowed your pace. “I was wondering if you were actually gonna show up” he joked with a grin 

“Yeah, I’ve just been getting my bearings. It’s always a little overwhelming first coming in” you admitted, taking in the busy paddock around you.

Alex, who had been with Lando, nodded in agreement. “It’s a lot to take in at first. You’ll get used to it.” His gaze flickered over your shoulder, a mischievous gleam in your eye “But you’re in for a treat. Wait until you see the cars on track” 

The chatter around you died down as you bid the drivers goodbye and good luck before stepping into the Mercedes garage. You immediately recognized some of the team members, their sharp focus evident as they worked. The garage itself felt like a well-oiled machine - every mechanic, every engineer, every piece of equipment working in perfect harmony toward one goal. It was like watching a live performance of a different kind. No stage, but the stakes are just as high. 

Your heart raced as you moved deeper into the space, finally spotting George near one of the cars. He was talking to an engineer, his hands gesturing as he made a point, his focus unwavering. Even in the middle of all the technical chaos, he seemed entirely calm, as if this was where he belonged. His helmet was resting on the table in front of him, and he was clad in his Mercedes team gear - sweat beading on his forehead from the heat of the garage, but there was a kind of coolness about him. 

He glanced up, his eyes immediately locking with yours. A brief flash of recognition passed over his features before his face broke into a smile, making your heart skip a few more beats than it should’ve. 

“Hey” he said, walking towards you, his steps purposeful but easy. “Glad you could make it. How’s everything going so far?” 

Your lips parted into a smile as you spoke “It’s been unreal. You said last week that Silverstone was on another level, it’s insane.” 

George nodded, his hands slipping into his pockets “I know exactly what you mean. It’s all part of the thrill though. The preparation, the team effort, the moments before you get in the car and the moment you step out of it. That's why I do this.” 

You couldn’t help but admire how passionate he was about it. It was the same kind of passion you felt for your own craft, but this was on a whole different scale. His eyes shined with an unmistaken fire, that made him seem so much more than just a racecar driver. 

For a moment, it felt like the madness of the paddock had paused. There was just you and George, sharing a quiet understanding. Then, the moment was broken by the sound of an engine firing up, the roar of a nearby car cutting through the air, and George’s eyes flickered to the noise. 

“Looks like that’s my cue,” he said, a little regret in his voice, though he smiled “I’ve got to head out for the last few checks before practice. But I’ll catch you later, yeah?” 

You nodded, your heart unexpectedly heavy. “Yeah, I’ll be around. Good luck out there George. I’m sure you’ll do great.” 

He gave you a quick wink and a thumbs up before heading toward the wall of computers on the side of the garage, and as you watched him go, you felt a rush of something - maybe admiration, maybe curiosity. 

======

 The day had been a whirlwind - so much to take in, so many new faces, and so much buzzing energy in the paddock. Most of your time was spent in Mercedes, watching the drivers as they sped on track, but took some time to wander the area, meeting with fans as you did so. It had been everything you hoped for, but there was one thing that had stuck in your head throughout the day. One person. 

George. 

You hadn’t expected to feel this drawn to him. Maybe it was the way he spoke to you like a normal person, or how passionate he was about racing, or the way his smile seemed to cut through the chaos. He was a racer, yes - but there was a depth to him that made you think there was so much more than what the cameras saw. 

As the day drew to a close, and the buzz of the paddock began to quiet, you found yourself in Mercedes hospitality. Your mind was still in awe of everything that you’ve seen. And then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted him. 

George was walking toward you, having traded his race suit for team gear. He looked tired, but there was something about the way he moved that told you he was never truly off the clock. 

He approached, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. There was a pause, as if the noise had all faded away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet. 

“Hey” he said, offering a smile that made your stomach flip. “I was looking for you earlier. Hope the practices were fun.” 

You smiled back, trying to ignore how your heart was suddenly beating a little bit faster. “It’s been incredible. Honestly exceeded all of my expectations.” 

“That’s good to hear,” he said, his eyes wandering out to the track below. Then, after a beat, he turned to face you again. His eyes locked with yours, a slight hesitation in his movements before he spoke again, as if he was weighing his words carefully. 

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you…” his voice softened, and you could hear the slight edge of nerves creeping in - something you weren’t expecting from him. 

Your heart gave a little jolt at his words, that nervous edge in his voice making everything feel a little more real. He hesitated for a moment, hands shoved into his pockets, eyes flicking between you and the track as if he was gathering his thoughts. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you…” he repeated, drawing out the words as if they were a weight he had to work up to. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a half-step closer to you. “Since you’re sticking around for a few days, and, you know, it’s not often I get to ask… I was wondering if maybe… you’d want to grab dinner?” 

Your pulse quickened. You hadn’t expected him to ask you out - certainly not like this. Not so casually, with that slight edge of hesitation. But there it was, clear as day. 

You found yourself smiling before you even realized it. “I’d like that” you said, your voice feeling steady despite the rush of excitement. 

His face lit up with a grin you’d seen earlier - a little crooked, but so full of warmth. “Yeah? I wasn’t sure if I was being too forward…”

“Not at all” you reassured “I’m kind of relieved, to be honest.” You let out a small laugh, feeling a little less nervous now that he seemed equally uncertain. 

“Relieved?” he raised an eyebrow, a playful note returning to his voice

“Yeah, I didn’t know if you were just being polite or if you really wanted to spend time together” you admitted, suddenly a little shy under his gaze “But it sounds like you really meant it.” 

“I did” he said, his voice soft again, his expression more sincere now ‘I’ve wanted to ask you out since the first time I saw you at the concert. I just didn’t know if you’d be into it. I just didn’t want to make a fool of myself” 

You couldn’t help but to feel a swell of warmth at his honesty. There was something about the way he was laying it all out - no masks, no guard up - that made you like him even more.

“Well,” you said, taking a step closer and giving him a teasing smile, “you’re not a fool, George. I’m definitely interested” 

His grin widened, and there was a twinkle in his eyes that made your heart flutter just a little. “I’ll take that as a win then” he replied, his tone light but with an underlying sincerity “Alright, so… dinner after all this? I’ll be finished by eight?” 

“Perfect, I’ll be there” you replied, your stomach fluttering as you spoke, the anticipation filling the air. 

======

The relationship had blossomed into something you hadn’t expected, a mix of racing circuits and late-night songwriting sessions. With every date, every stolen moment, you felt a connection that went deeper than you could have imagined. George was everything you’d hoped for and more - kind, thoughtful, and passionate. You two balanced each other out, like two pieces of a puzzle. 

You’d always used music as an outlet, a way to process your emotions, your thoughts, your life. Fans always said your music was like a peek into your diary, so it wasn’t long until George found his way into your songs, though you were sure not to make it too obvious. You’d learned to weave little details into your lyrics - the way his eyes lit up, his passions, his love for the quiet moments with you.

George was sprawled on the couch, his legs hanging off the edge as he absently flipped through a magazine. The soft strum of your guitar filled the space between you two, the notes gentle but steady, like a heartbeat. You weren’t playing anything in particular - just letting your fingers wander across the strings as your mind drifted. 

You looked up at him, your fingers pausing on the strings as you met his gaze. His eyes were warm, those quiet depths that always seemed to be watching you with such focus, like he was trying to understand every part of you, even parts you hadn’t figured out yet. 

“You know” you began, your voice soft, but with that undercurrent of thoughtfulness you had come to expect from these late-night moments, “I wrote a song today”

“About me?” he raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued 

“Maybe…” you trailed off, biting your lip as you returned your gaze to the guitar, strumming a few notes absentmindedly 

“Yeah?” his voice had that playful edge, but there was something deeper in there too, like he knew what you meant. “Let me hear it” 

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you wanted to share it just yet, but then you’d remembered how he’d always support your music, how he’d never made you feel like you had to explain yourself. Slowly, you played the opening chords, the melody coming together easily, flowing out like it had been waiting for the right moment.

The lyrics were simple, but meaningful. You’d written about finding someone who felt like home, even in the midst of a fast-paced, unpredictable world. About how, amongst the chaos and drama that both of your lives brought, you found someone who made it all fade into the background. 

When you finished, the room was still. George didn’t say anything and for a long moment, his expression thoughtful as he let the words settle between you two. 

“That’s… that’s really beautiful.” he finally said, his voice low, and for a second, you weren’t sure if he was talking about the song or about what it represented “Are you planning on releasing it?” 

“I mean, if that’s okay with you?” you asked

George’s eyes softened, and for a second, he just watched you, taking in the vulnerability in your question. The way you hesitated, as if unsure how much of yourself you were willing to share. It wasn’t lost on him. He knew how personal your music was to you, how every song was like a little piece of your soul, laid bare for the world to hear. 

He didn’t hesitate long before answering, his voice steady but filled with that quiet sincerity you’d come to adore. 

“Of course,” he said, his gaze never leaving yours “If that’s what you want. I trust you.” 

A wave of relief washed over you, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. The idea of sharing something so intimate, especially something that felt so much like him, was scary. But George was different. 

You smiled, a soft, genuine smile that reached to your eyes “Thanks” you murmured, feeling the weight of his trust settle between you two. 

“Do you ever think of going public?” 

The question caught you off guard. You had been lost in the quiet, comforting silence of his trust, and now, just like that, he was pulling you back into a reality you hadn’t fully faced. The thought of going public - of letting everyone know about the two of you - was daunting. You had always been protective of your private life, and this felt like a whole new level of vulnerability. 

The question hung in the air, but there was no pressure in George’s gaze. It was clear he was leaving the decision up to you, giving you the space to think it through. 

“I don’t know.” You shook your head slightly, the uncertainty creeping in. “I guess I’ve always been protective of the things that matter most. When I have let the world in, they’ve torn it to shreds” 

George’s expression softened. He nodded, a small, understanding smile forming on his lips “I get that. I do.” His voice was steady, and there was an honesty in the way he spoke, as if he had been thinking about this too. “I guess what I’m asking is do we want to go public? Not just the world, but us?” 

“I guess that’s the question, isn’t it?” you said “Is it worth the risk?” 

“I think it is” George said without hesitation. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze unwavering. “Because whatever happens, we have something real. I’d rather go public with you than keep pretending that we don’t exist. But only if you’re ready, and if you want that too.” 

You felt a lump form in your throat at his words. He was right. What you had was real. It wasn’t a fleeting romance or something built on a facade. It was a connection you both had worked for, nurtured, and built in a world that often didn’t leave space for things like that. 

“I think we should do it when the moment feels right.” you finally answered “We shouldn’t plan anything. Almost a spur of the moment, when you know you know instance.” 

That moment came a few weeks later. The song had been released the weekend prior, and the buzz around it hit hard, like a wave, sweeping through social media and radio stations. Fans were left decoding the lyrics, trying to find who the muse was. The lyrics weren’t directly about George, but anyone who listened closely could see the thread of a connection, a quiet love that couldn’t be ignored. 

But amidst all the attention, you and George remained under the radar. You both carried on, your lives unfolding between race tracks, concerts, late night phone calls, and stolen moments that felt both intensely private and fiercely treasured. 

You were a guest on a radio show when you were finally confronted about the song. Most of the conversation was focused on your upcoming album, sharing tidbits behind the new songs and how your sound had changed over the years. But you knew deep down that the question was coming. It was only a matter of time. 

“So, there’s been a lot of buzz around your new song, ‘Call It What You Want’. Fans are already digging into the lyrics, trying to figure out who the song is really about. Care to share any insight?” 

There was a slight shift in the air, the pressure rising slightly. You glanced at the host, trying to maintain a calm demeanor. “Honestly, the song is more about a feeling than it is a specific person. It’s about finding someone who feels like home, someone who makes everything else fade into the background when you’re with them” You let the words linger, hoping they were vague enough to redirect the conversation. 

But the host wasn’t satisfied. She leaned forward, eyes twinkling. “Right, but you’ve been pretty open about your private life in your music before. And let’s be honest, we’ve all heard rumors. Is there anyone in particular?” 

The moment arrived. You could keep dancing around it, stay guarded, and continue to play the game, but something inside you pushed back against that instinct. 

You thought about George. About your relationship. A relationship formed in the shadows, not because you were ashamed, but because you both needed space to grow. You had needed time to see if what you had was something that could withstand the outside world. And now, it felt right. It was now about embracing what you had, regardless of the consequences. 

“I guess it's no secret that the song is inspired by someone in my life. I’ve been seeing him for a while now, and he’s definitely had an impact on the way I’ve been feeling lately.” 

The host’s smile widened, sensing the shift in the room. “Anyone we might know?” 

Your gaze softened, and you gave the slightest nod. “Yeah” you said quietly, your voice carrying the weight of the truth “It’s George Russell.” 

The host’s eyes widened, but she quickly masked her excitement with a professional grin. “Well, that’s a big revelation! George Russell, Formula 1 driver and now your muse. I think the world will have a lot to say about this.”

You chuckled softly, “Yeah, probably” 

Little did you know, across the world, George had the exact same pressure. It was media day in Singapore, and he was stuck in the media pen, surrounded by microphones and cameras. All of them were focused on him as he answered questions about his performance, the race ahead, and of course, the usual speculations about his personal life. But today felt different. There was a certain tension in the air that George couldn’t quite shake off. His mind kept drifting back to the interview you had done a few hours ago, and the confession you had made to the world.

“So George,” the reporter began, leaning in a little “We’ve heard there’s a new song out that’s got some pretty… intimate lyrics. Any comment?” 

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck “Yeah, that’s true. I’m very proud of her. She’s an amazing artist. It’s funny, because when she writes, it’s like she captures all the things I didn’t know how to say. The song… Call It What You Want… it’s definitely got me in it, but I think she’s explained how she feels about it.” 

“So it’s about you?” 

George shrugged, his grin a little shy, but playful “I think it’s more about us, the journey. We’re both in fast paced worlds, but managed to slow down and figure things out.” 

The reporter raised an eyebrow, “And you’re okay with that? Your relationship being a part of her music?” 

The grin broke into a full smile. “I think it’s beautiful, actually. I mean, it’s her art, her expression. And if I get to be a part of it, well, I think I’m lucky” 

You watched his interview the morning after, as you had long gone to bed when it was posted. But hearing him speak about your music like that made your heart swell with pride. It was one thing to write the songs, to pour your heart into them, but hearing George - your George - speak so openly about them, and about you, made it feel like it was all worth it.

[jaybirdluvr73]

You're my Best Friend (nanami kento x reader)

A longer fic version of this

Best friends to lovers with Nanami Kento. Fluff, a little tiny bit of angst but a Happy ending. Mild spoilers. Set in the early 2000s. I was thinking about what to call this and became inspired by the song "You are in love" by Taylor Swift

a/n: this is my first fic like this, i hope you guys like it. Feedback is super appreciated <3

"You're a…what?", you say in disbelief, trying to figure out if your normally level headed best friend has officially gone insane.

"A sorcerer", Kento says slowly, as if he hasn't fully accepted it either. "In the world, there's cursed energy and some people, sorcerers, are capable of using it. Usually to fight curses." 

Your mouth hangs agape as you wonder if this is some prank he's playing on you. But Kento has never lied to you before. (although he's never claimed monsters and sorcerers were real either.)

"I believe you", you say finally, to Kento's relief, "I mean this sounds completely insane but I trust you."

He finally cracks a small smile before frowning as he remembers something. "That's not all"

"What? Don't tell me aliens are real too"

"They want me to go to a school that trains sorcerers" he swallows before continuing, "in Tokyo"

You feel your heart stop as you realise that means you'll hardly see him anymore. Ever since preschool, the one constant in your life has been Nanami Kento. Sitting in class, eating lunch, walking home, no matter what you did or where you were, he was always by your side. 

You can't pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with him, you just remember waking up one day and knowing. Maybe it was when he would ask the teachers questions for you in preschool, or in elementary school when he tried to bake you a cake by himself for your birthday. It might have been when he started reading all your favourite books so he could talk about them with you or when he spent half an hour trying to win you a teddy bear at an arcade. You may not know when you fell in love with him but you do know that loving Nanami Kento came as naturally as breathing.

"Promise you'll come back to visit", you say, trying to offer a smile. He nods, swearing that he'll never break a promise to you.

Nanami Kento remembers the exact moment he fell in love with you. It was fourth grade and your tenth birthday was coming up. He spent days looking up recipes and baking tutorials so that he could bake you the perfect cake. He spent hours on it. By the time he finished, his mom joked that there was more flour on him than in the cake but it was worth it to see the look on your face when he sowed it to you. The cake didn’t turn out great, the layers were uneven, the frosting was grainy and the entire thing was lopsided. When you saw it, you immediately started tearing up. At first he started apologising because he thought it was so bad that it made you cry. But then you threw your arms around his shoulders smiling widely and told him that nobody had ever done something so nice for you before. From that moment he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life making you smile like that. 

“- and  I put some of the new Fall Out Boy songs on the playlist too. The new album isn’t their best but”, you stop as you see a strange look on his face. “What’s wrong Ken?” 

“Nothing’s wrong it’s just,” he pauses then says, “You’re my best friend”

“The cheesecake was good but I think next time I want to try the brownie”, you say, shivering as you step outside the new bakery Kento brought you to. “I told you to bring a jacket, " he says, frowning while he takes off his sweater to give you. 

“I didn’t think it would be this cold!” you say trying to defend yourself as you tell him to keep his sweater on so he doesn’t freeze. “I’m not feeling that cold anyway”, he says as he forces the soft material into your hands. 

You put it on, closing your eyes as you feel the warm embrace of the fabric. “It smells like you”, you say before clarifying, “in a good way, I mean.” He just laughs and shakes his head before walking you back home. 

He laughs the same way years later, when you reveal that you slept in the sweater for a week, only stopping once it didn’t smell like him anymore. 

“Kento I know you’re in there!”, you shout, knocking on his bedroom door. “Your mom told me you were home.” He opens the door with a sigh before looking down at you and asking what you were doing here. As he gazes at you, you notice the deep eyebags that weren't there before, and a hardness in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. 

“I’m here because my best friend disappeared! Because you haven’t responded to my texts, or IMs or emails for weeks and I needed to know that you were okay”

“Well you can see that I’m fine. Thank you for checking on me, but you can go now.”

“Fine? Really” , you scoff, pushing your way into the dark room. “You won’t talk to me, your parents told me that you barely say a word to them and you clearly haven’t been sleeping! I want to help you Ken. I want to be there for you but you keep pushing me away.” Your voice softens before you continue, “I know you and Haibara were really close. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now”

“Exactly, you don’t know how I’m feeling right now and I hope that you never do”, he yells , “I’ve seen what this life can do to people, I’ve seen the toll it takes on the people left behind. I could die at any moment while on a mission, and I don’t want you to have to feel that kind of loss! I love you too much to put you through that! It’s better this way.” 

“Better for who Kento? Because I’m already miserable without you and you don’t seem to be doing much better! I know that being a sorcerer is dangerous and that something could happen to you. But isn’t it better to have loved and lost than to live life alone, because you’re worried about what might happen?”, you feel tears welling in your eyes before you continue, “I’m in love with you Kento and I don’t care how risky your life is. I’m willing to face any amount of pain if it means keeping you in my life. I would rather have you, and risk losing you, than not have you and lose you anyway.”

Kento feels his world stop spinning as soon as the words ‘I’m in love with you’ spill out of your lips. His mouth hangs open as he tries to figure out what to say. The only words that he manages to get out are, “Can I kiss you” as he leans closer. You nod slowly as you move towards him. 

You can feel his breath tickle your face before his lips finally descend to capture yours. Something warm grows in his chest, like the first flowers of spring blooming after a long winter. The entire world around him disappears as he feels your soft lips dancing against his own. His hands move gently to cup your face as he deepens the kiss. You snake your arms around his waist, feeling the soft caress of his hands on your cheeks. Feelings left unsaid for years come bubbling up and overflows.

When you two finally break apart to breathe, you notice a familiar look in his eyes. And this time, you knew what it was. 

He is in love

a/n: I'm not a huge fan of the title banner i made but lmk what you guys think.

tag list: @jasminelee324

[thebigbadbatswife]

Sippin' on Sunshine

Pairing - Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Summary - You and Bruce get away from Gotham on his yacht.

Warnings - Established relationship, Mild sexual content, Age gap, Swearing, Intoxication, Fluff, Bruce's POV, a very brief mention of past unconsenual touching (not Bruce's doing!).

Word Count - 2.1k

The sun is shining brightly, making the brilliant blue of the sea glisten. The smell of salt fills Brue’s nose whilst a gentle breeze ruffles the open shirt he’s currently wearing and waves gently lap at the side of his yacht. He’s lounging on a sun lounger, a glass of whiskey, neat, in his hand. You’re just ahead of him, in a bikini of your favourite colour, dancing and singling along to the bubblegum pop that’s blaring from the speakers. All of it is almost enough for him to completely forget about how much older he is than you.

Almost. 

Until he is catching sight of his distorted reflection in his drink and he’s reminded of the grey in his hair and the wrinkles by the corners of his eyes. He stares at it for a moment before downing the rest of his drink in one and setting aside the now empty glass, on the table next to him. If someone he trusted was to ask him he doesn’t know if he would be able to lie for once. The constant implications from every article surrounding the two of you and your relationship, implying he’s a cradle robber (because they know what will happen if they say it directly), and that he’s in the middle of a midlife crisis have started getting to him way more than he ever thought they would.

None of them change the way that he feels about you. You are completely and utterly intoxicating to him. The way that you look at him and say his name. The way that you curl up against him at night and the love songs that you sing to him from the playlist you have curated specifically for him, while he drives you somewhere. How you comb your fingers through his hair and you pepper his face with soft kisses. Or the sound of your laughter, your giggles especially, when he tells a bad joke or teases you. 

All of it has him feeling a way that he has never felt before. It scares him and if he was a younger man it would make him run. In that way, he supposes, it’s a good thing he’s not a younger man.

You are none the wiser to his inner turmoil. You’re still dancing and signing along to the music which, of course, you’re great at. It’s the type of thing that, he supposse, is to be expected from a woman whose parents discovered she was talented early on in life and decided to exploit that for as long as possible. Until one day you finally turned around, told them to fuck off and started doing everything that you could to destroy the cute and friendly child star image you had attached to you. Which is another thing that the tabloids like to latch on to. Claiming that you’re using him to continue your rebellion and destruction of that image, dragging him down with you.

None of them bother you and he doesn’t believe a single word of them anyway. Besides, the several playboy photoshoots you have done, each one more risque than the last, have surely already done that damage you were looking for. Even if they hadn’t, and if you wanted him to help out, he’s always more than happy to do exactly that. You only need to ask him and he will help you put on a show that no one will be able to erase from their minds.

Your eyes finally meet his, your body turning to face him as you stop dancing. Your chest is heaving as you catch your breath. With his hand, he gestures for you to come over to him. Bruce wants to indulge in you, have you chase away the thoughts that are currently plaguing him. Your face immediately lights up and you eagerly make your way over to him.

He catches you as you almost fall as you make a move to straddle his body. Bruce makes a mental note to slow down your alcohol and to get some food inside of you, knowing all too well how yachts and intoxication don’t mix well with each other. 

Though it is a sign of how comfortable and safe you feel when you’re around him. He knows that you have been on plenty of yachts in the past, but were always surrounded by men who only wanted to discuss “important things” and were way too comfortable with touching you when you really didn’t want them to. 

It’s been a few days since you first told him that. It had come up shortly after he had presented the idea of getting away from Gotham for a little while on his yacht, that honestly never gets used anymore. You had been apprehensive about the idea until he had explained that, other than some staff, it was just going to be you and him. No one else. You had been excited about it after that. And if you hadn’t been? Well, he always had the private jet on stand by, ready to whisk you away and take you wherever you want at a moment’s notice.

Bruce still feels himself boiling over with rage over it when he thinks about it. When the two of you get home, he already has plans to to find these men and ruin their lives. Perhaps even put the fear of Batman into all of them. It doesn’t matter how long ago it was, he refuses to let them get away with any of it, but that will have to happen after you get home.

“Careful,” he chides softly, his hand coming to rest high up on your waist to support you.

“Sorry,” you mumble. Your hands come up to cup his face and you lean in to kiss him. You taste like the lemonade and melon liquor you have been drinking today. Sweet and delicious. 

He sighs softly as you part, a hand coming up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. ‘ I’ll never get tired of kissing her,’ he thinks fondly as he gazes into your eyes.

“Are you having fun?” he asks.

His question seems to take you by surprise as you pull away from him a little and frown. You weren’t expecting him to ask you that.

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” You don’t give him a second to reply, however, the gears in your inebriated mind spinning and working hard, quickly coming to your own conclusion before he can think of what to say. “Are you asking because of what I told you?”

He nods. “Yeah. Just wanted to make sure that you’re doing okay.” 

Your frown disappears as your face softens and you look at him in a way that you never have before. He can’t name the emotion in your eyes, but it’s enough to make it feel like his heart has just skipped a beat, like he’s a damn teenager again. It doesn’t last long and you’re breaking the moment as you giggle. Something else occurring to your inebriated brain.

“Is that why your hands are so high up on my body?” You giggle again, finding the whole thing very amusing. One of your hands covers the one that’s resting on your waist and you move it down until he’s cupping your ass, your bottom lip caught in your teeth. “You know I don’t mind it when you touch me in less than gentlemanly ways.” 

He huffs a laugh and moves his hand off of your ass, bringing it to rest on your thigh instead. He can already see where your mind is headed, but he’s still focused on being a gentleman and not overstepping. Especially with the state that you’re currently in.

“I know, but I don’t want to overstep and make you uncomfortable, sweetheart,” he tells you.

“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” you reply. You lean in and rub your nose against his. “I want you, Brucie.” 

He hums. “I think we should have some lunch first,” he suggests. As much as he loves taking you to his bed and drawing every sweet noise of you that he can, whenever he can, he wants to sober you up first. It’s no fun if you’re too drunk to properly enjoy yourself. Not to mention that he doesn't want to take advantage of your current state.

There’s no argument from you, your mind quickly switching away from thoughts of sex to thoughts of what the chef might be serving for lunch. He helps you up and, with a hand on your waist, he keeps you close to him as you both head inside.

Lunch certainly helped with sobering you up. It helps that the chef had made your favourite, per Bruce’s request. You are no longer as giggly as before and Bruce is no longer worried about you potentially falling overboard. Not that he was going to let you get anywhere close to the edge of the yacht to let that happen anyway, but it’s better not to tempt things.

Neither of you have any interest in returning outside to the lounge in the sun. For the time being at least. Instead you are more than content to stay inside, enjoying the air conditioning, while you’re laying on top of him. His fingers resting on the back of your neck, while he kisses you soft and slowly.

He love this. Being lazy and indulging in you. No rush to do anything and not having to worry about the next problem on his never ending list of problems. At least for the moment. 

To think that there was once a time where he had thought he would go crazy if he wasn’t working on his next project or case file. From the moment that he laid eyes on you at that charity event, you have changed a lot of things for him.

Bruce’s free hand trails down your body, mapping out all of your curves, before finally coming to rest on your ass; which he gives a squeeze. You gasp and give him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue inside of your mouth. Moaning into the kiss, your hand fists his shirt while you start to grind against him, making him twitch inside of his shorts. You definitely feel it because your grinding grows more insistent, making him grow hard.

“Fuck,” he groans against your mouth. He gives your ass another squeeze in retaliation, as well as a light slap that has you gasping again. Letting you know that two can play at that game. It does nothing to discourage you. If anything, you only grow bolder as you take hold of his hand and slip into your bikini, letting him feel just how aroused you are from him. He groans again. 

Bruce shouldn’t reward you. He really shouldn’t. It will just cause you to think that you can get away with this again, in the future. At the same time, he can’t help himself. He does so love to spoil you and you deserve to be spoiled. He presses his fingers up against your engorged clit, enjoying the stutter in your breathing. He plays with you for a moment, drawing soft, breathy noises from you, before finally pushing his fingers inside; loving the way your mouth drops open in a perfect ‘O’ shape. 

He has half a mind to finish you off right here, right now, but he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. It serves as a reminder that the two of you aren’t completely alone on the yacht. You whine when he pulls his hand out of your bikini.

“How about we move this to the cabin?” he suggests. 

“And if I want to stay and do it here instead?” You bring his slick covered fingers up to your lips and, one by one, start to suck them clean. The sight is almost enough to make him reconsider, but then he hears the clatter of plates and glasses.

“As much as I would love to–” he gestures with his head toward the open door– “I prefer being the only person knowing what you look like when you’re riding me.” 

You consider what he has said for a moment before nodding, deciding that he’s right. “Okay,” you agree with him. “And then we can have a copious amount of chocolate?” 

He laughs softly. Your sweet tooth is almost as bad as his own. Bruce sits up, getting you to wrap your legs around his hips before standing up. You giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck and he rubs his nose against yours. “How about both at the same time?”

[boundbyeclipse]

hiii can you write smut number 5 with current James????

black velvet

genre : smut

word count : 1227

tags : current!james, female!reader, age difference (not specified how much), reader is a tattoo artist, a little rough james, semi-public sex (i think?), that’s about it

from the prompt list : 5. “don’t cover your mouth. i wanna hear you”

a/n : sooo i saw a photo of James getting a tattoo done and i thought hey, that’s a perfect idea for one of my requests! it really stuck to me and i had to write it. i really hope you enjoy this one x

‘Poison’ by Alice Cooper played in the background after you returned from your dinner break at work. You hummed along to the lyrics while lightly bopping your head to the beat. You absolutely loved rock and metal, so the playlist used at work always consisted of bands who did exactly those genres. It always gave you motivation and boosts for some energy, no matter if you were sad, angry or irritated.

While preparing for your next client, the sound of the entrance door opening and closing reached your ears. Technically, it was just a bit too early to show up, but hey, this one’s a regular and you didn’t mind at all.

“Hey there” you greeted him while putting some black gloves on your hands.

“Hey. Mind me showing up before I should?”

You gave him a warm smile, shaking your head left to right.

“Nope. You can come take a seat actually, I’ll go print out the tattoo and get more ink”

“Alright” James smiled back, hanging his jacket on the rack and making his way to the big, comfortable leather chair. He watched you walking around and you didn’t quite pay any attention to him, at least at first. Or, you just didn’t want to.

No matter how many times you’ve done tattoos on this man in the past few years, there has always been some sort of a tension between you both. It wasn’t anything like what you’ve had before with other men. They might have complimented you, made you smile, even blush, but none of them put you in such a vulnerable position with their presence alone. And there have been many times where his eyes would pierce right through you in the middle of getting his skin drawn on, creating the impression of him wanting to do some things to you. The lust was purely emitting from him the whole time. And you cannot forget about those moments when his fingertips would brush against your skin, making you shiver and think of scenarios in your head that were not so innocent. Sure, he was much older than you, but that didn’t stop either of you from craving each other every time.

Not too long after, you were already seated next to James, with his hand extended out as you were drawing lines on his skin.

My, oh my, did those large hands of his drove you insane.

“You got any more people coming after me?” he suddenly asked, his blue eyes hinting at something.

“Nope, you are the last one today. Puts my mind at ease knowing my last client is a regular. No need to overthink”

One side of his mouth curved up into a small smirk.

“Are you sure your mind is at ease? Because I can feel you’re all tensed up”

You swallowed and bit your lower lip hard after he said that. Trying to hide your growing frustration, you giggled.

“Maybe I am, I’ve been here since seven in the morning, you know”

He cocked an eyebrow up, not quite believing what you were saying. James could clearly see how you bit your lip, adjusted in your seat and giggled due to getting thrown back by his comment.

“It’s kind of easy to tell that it’s not because of the work. You don’t need to hide it”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and your body froze for a moment before you looked up at him and asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I know you secretly think about all the possible ways I could use my hands on you,” you could not believe what he just said, but it was totally true, “it’s written all over your face. Even your body language gives it away with how you shake, squirm in your seat, how you breathe heavier when I’m around. I know you think of me”

“James, don’t-“

“Just finish the tattoo first, then you can explain yourself”

Not even ten minutes later, you had your body pinned against the door of your break room, with no way to escape the tall man who hovered over you. His hands roamed your body while he kissed your neck, sucking on the sensitive spots to make you even weaker. The way he held you by your hip against the door made you so vulnerable and so turned on, that you could not help but moan into the heated kiss.

With one swift move, James opened the door behind you and the both of you walked backwards, still all over each other until the back of your calves hit the lounge couch that was in the room. James helped you with taking your shirt off, leaving you in a black lace bra. You sat down and watched James from below, eyes full of desperation and need, looking right into his own. He removed his shirt and tossed it away, unbuckling his jeans and unzipping them, then hovering above you as he laid you down slowly, but with rough kisses and a tight grip on your waist.

Your hand reached into his jeans and you cupped him through the fabric of his underwear, giving it a couple squeezes as James groaned in response. He was big, thick and hard, and you could feel yourself getting so wet that it started to hurt. You really needed him.

With no clothes left on your bodies, he was now inside you, moving his hips as he watched your face, loving the way your eyes rolled back with each thrust. The way your back arched, your naked bodies touching against each other, it put you in such a trance. Every second of it - you just loved.

With your moans becoming louder, you felt a little embarrassed, and your hand found its way to your mouth to silence yourself. But James wasn’t going to let you hide.

“Don’t cover your mouth. I wanna hear you”

Carefully, he took your hand and now had both of your hands pinned above your head. Your moans filled the room as you wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to feel every single inch of his length in you. Almost to the point where you could barely take it.

“I can’t- I can’t take it”

“Yes, you can. Just hang on for a little bit more for me, okay?”

You gave him a nod in response, eyes watery and lips parted as you breathed heavily, your high hitting you right then and there. It happened so quickly, that you could not even tell James that you were close.

Another moan slipped out of his mouth as you coated him in your juices, your walls pulsing whilst he was still inside you, able to feel everything.

“Almost there” he told you as he gave you his final thrusts before pulling out and cumming on your stomach. Both of you were panting, with small beads of sweat on your foreheads and hair all messed up. But as soon as you got your breathing back to normal, it was time to clean up and go home. Though, James just wasn’t quite keen on leaving you so soon.

“I’ll give you a ride back home, so don’t worry about taking a bus in this weather” he gave you a warm smile as he put his jacket on and waited for you at the entrance door.

[bijouxcarys]

𝑻𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑩𝒊𝒏𝒅 (𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒔 𝒙 𝑶𝑪) - 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

Masterlist

Character Profiles/Face Claims

Playlist

A/N: Finally chapter 17 (the second half of chapter 16 that made it too bloody long)! I know you're all going to enjoy this one because you're all filthy little hobbits. Jokes, I love u all for all the support and love you keep leaving me. I love engagement with my work and it really helps with motivation, as I'm sure any writer would tell you. Anyways, as always, I hope you all enjoy this one ;)

CW/TW: S m u t central, pure filth, some angst

Tags: @empressdede @thetribalqueen @heauxvibez @bigsimperika

@cyberdejos2 @keyaho @headoftheetable @jstarr86 @southerngirl41

@tshepisho @cry1nwhileimcumm1n @maeb99 @thedesireds @dzdndcnfsd

@expert-texpert @niknakbucks92 @sillyteecup @trentybenty @pittieprincess22

@electronicwitchsandwich @thefairywithboots

(If you want to be tagged in any future Roman fics, just let me know!)

It took a little under an hour for Nate’s phone to buzz with the incoming text from Roman telling her he had arrived. In that time, she’d moved upstairs to grab a jacket, not entirely comfortable leaving the house at midnight in the December weather of New York. 

She stood from her spot on the edge of her bed, smoothing out the tight fabric of her dress before stumbling ever-so-slightly in her heels. It would have been a smart move to just… change shoes, but she didn’t even think of that. All she could think about was… Roman.

Okay, okay, just walk normal, she reminded herself, steadying her steps as she quietly made her way downstairs, turning away from the direction in which Dimitri had his associates gathered. She almost couldn’t believe she’d managed to slip out the back door of the house without making a sound loud enough to alert someone. 

The further away she got from the house, the more surreal the situation felt. She was sneaking out of her own home, half-drunk, to meet Roman Reigns—Roman Reigns, of all people. You’d think the shock of being somewhat civil with her family’s number one enemy would have dulled out by now, but nope. That shit was rampant when she let herself think too much about it. She couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh to herself.

The alcohol had fully caught up with her now, making everything around her slightly fuzzy, but not enough to forget what was going on. She followed the narrow path down from the estate, through the hedges and along the private road. Her phone buzzed again, another text from Roman.

Parked down the street. Just past the bend.

Nate squinted down the dark road. Of course, he wouldn’t park right in front of the house. He wasn’t stupid. Roman knew better than to make himself too obvious, especially in her family’s territory. A mafia boss meeting with the daughter of another mafia boss wasn’t exactly a low-stakes situation.

After a couple of minutes of walking—well, more like ungraceful, slightly wobbly striding—Nate finally spotted that familiar black sedan parked a little further down the road, barely visible under the faint glow of a street lamp. She could see the faint outline of him sitting in the driver’s seat, his headlights off but the dim interior lights on, just enough to catch sight of him.

Roman had a presence even when doing nothing. Broad shoulders, thick arms resting casually on the wheel. Profile perfectly illuminated in the saturated light. Damn. It didn’t matter how drunk Nate was, he always managed to look like he belonged directly in the centre of attention.

She approached the passenger side, swayling a little more than she would’ve liked, and when Roman saw her, his neutral expression shifted slightly. Narrowing his eyes the same way he did every time he focused in on something.

He gave her a once-over, his gaze travelling from her legs, up the tight-fitting dress that wrapped around every line and bend of her body, and lingering on the exposed skin where her dress dipped low in the front. His observation was slow, deliberate, and left no room for misunderstanding. Appreciation in his dark eyes.

With a grin through the window, she knocked lightly on the glass. He gave her a half-smirk as he leaned over and unlocked the door for her. Nate pulled it open, sliding into the passenger seat with as much grace as she could muster, which, given her current state, wasn’t much.

“You’re late,” she teased, turning to him with a playful pout.

Roman raised an eyebrow at her, clearly amused. “Takes time to sneak into enemy territory,” he said.

She sighed dramatically, leaning her head back against the seat. “You’re lucky I didn’t pass out waiting for you.”

Shifting the car into gear, Roman shook his head and huffed. “You’re buzzed as hell, huh?”

Nate lifted her head to look at him, her smile widening. “Maybe just a little. Or a lot. But hey, you’re here, so I must be doing something right.”

He gave her a sideways glance, his lips twitching up in that way that always made her stomach flip. “Didn’t think you’d be callin’ me up for a rescue mission. What happened to that tough act?”

She waved her hand dismissively, as if to brush off the idea that she needed rescuing. “I don’t need rescuing. I just… didn’t wanna be there anymore. Family’s being weird.”

“Weird how?”

Nate rested her hands in her lap, playing with the ring on her left hand that she despised wearing, but no more than she despised the fact she forgot to take it off after her perfect wife attempt tonight. She looked over at Roman, taking in the sight of his profile: strong. Beard creating the perfect frame around his chin. Hesitating, she wondered how much she should share. Then again, the alcohol had loosened her tongue enough tonight.

“Ugh, you wouldn’t believe it,” she groaned, throwing her hands up. “My dad dropped the bomb that Katya’s getting married to Alexei.”

“Who the fuck is Alexei?”

“A right knobhead,” Nate snorted, disregarding the need to control her less-than-subtle accent and strong British dialect. “It’s like… if you took Boris, made him even worse, and added a few inches in height. And reallyyyy bad teeth.”

“Damn,” Roman hummed. “Sounds like a piece of work.”

“You have no idea. Katya’s gonna lose her mind. Or worse, she’ll just… disappear inside herself. She’s not strong like that.” Nate leaned her head against the window, sighing heavily. “It’s all just so… so fucked.”

There was a period of silence, the car humming softly beneath them as Roman drove down the quieter streets. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself sink into the comfort of the seat. Her mind was still going a hundred miles a second, but being with Roman, here, away from the mess of her family, felt strangely… safe.

“Hey.”

She blinked her eyes open and peered over at Roman, who was staring straight ahead at the road in front of him.

“You ain’t your family,” he said quietly. “You know that, right?”

Nate swallowed, his simple statement settling over her like a blanket. She didn’t answer him right away, just nodded slightly, even though she barely believed that. When she was younger, there was nothing more she wanted than to follow in the footsteps of Dimitri Volkov. To be just like him. Have the kind of unmatched power that he had. 

But now, at 27, she wanted to be… anything else.

Before she could dwell on it too much, Roman’s voice broke through her thoughts again.

“You wanna talk about somethin’ else?” he asked. “Or we just gon’ sit here all night with you bein’ all depressed and shit?”

She managed a laugh, her mood lifting a little at his jesting tone. “Fine… What do you wanna talk about, oh wise one?”

“Ain’t much of a talker, Princess, you know that.”

“Yeah, well, you’re talking to me now, aren’t you?”

He gave her a look, one that said she was pushing it, but the corners of his mouth tugged up in that signature smirk of his. “You got a smart mouth for someone who needed my help.”

Nate leaned back in her seat. “Oh, you love it.”

Roman’s stifled chuckle was low, rumbling through the car as they turned down another street. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

The silence that followed was comfortable, but after a few minutes, Nate found herself watching Roman out of the corner of her eye. 

“You have a really nice nose,” she blurted out without thinking.

Roman’s head jerked slightly as he shot her a look. “What?”

“Your nose,” she repeated, gesturing vaguely in his direction before leaning closer, squinting at him. “It’s like… shapely. Strong. A good nose.”

“You’re drunk, Nate.”

“I’m not that drunk,” she protested, sitting back up, though she didn’t seem entirely convinced herself. “I’m just observant. Your nose is nice.”

Roman smirked. “It’s crooked.”

Nate gasped, her eyes widening in dramatic disbelief. “No, it’s not! It’s—” She reached out, her fingers hovering just inches from his face like she was considering touching his nose but stopped herself. “It’s perfect, Roman. Whoever told you it’s crooked is an idiot.”

“Well, I didn’t say anyone told me. I know it’s crooked. Had to have it fixed a couple times from being broken.”

She just shook her head vigorously, her wavy hair bouncing with the motion. “Nope. It’s perfect. Just like the rest of you.”

She wasn’t being subtle at all tonight. The vodka had completely eroded whatever filter she normally had, and it was obvious she was laying it on thick. He could feel the heat from her stare, and the way her gaze lingered on him was making his blood run a little hotter.

“You flirtin’, Volkov?” he asked somewhat playfully, yet seriously like he wasn’t opposed to the idea.

“Depends,” Nate grinned, biting her bottom lip. “You like it?”

Deepening his amused smile, he gave her a quick glance. “You know I don’t mind attention… But I don’t think your ass is in any shape to be making moves right now.”

“I am not that drunk,” she reiterated, leaning closer again. This time, her arm brushed his as she shifted, and he tensed slightly, more aware of her proximity than he cared to admit. “I’m just… I don’t know,” she sighed, lowering her head to look down at the centre console. “You’re easy to talk to.”

Roman’s eyebrows scrunched together, not sure if she meant that or if it was just the alcohol talking. Either way, it took him by surprise. Nate wasn’t the type to get emotional with other people, and Roman wasn’t even sure they were close enough to be letting her guard down like that.

“You sure that ain’t the drink talkin’?” he asked.

“Maybe. But I don’t think it matters at this point,” Nate snorted, leaning back and closing her eyes as she rested her head back on the seat. Roman glanced over at her, once again taking in the sight of such a beautiful woman in his car. 

Oh, the amount of times he would have had her laid out and begging for more if she wasn’t a Volkov. That time in the safehouse was one too many, but he needed more. There was still so much in his warped fantasies that he’d not yet made a reality. In every which way he could have her, he wanted it. He wanted to bury his face between those plush thighs of hers, savour every bit of her as she writhed and whimpered for him. Wanted to leave his mark on her, let Boris know that she didn’t need him to make her fall apart completely. 

“Nah,” Nate cackled, opening her eyes. “You’d know if I was flirting.”

“Pretty sure this is flirting.”

“I’m just telling the truth!” she insisted, her voice rising in pitch and volume. “You’re all, like, perfect or whatever. All this,” she motioned to him with both hands now. “You’ve got that whole… big, brooding, alpha-male thing going on, and don’t even get me started on those fucking eyes.”

“My eyes?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” she nodded enthusiastically, leaning in as if she was imparting some great secret. “Your eyes are, like… intense. In a good way. But they’re also… kinda warm, you know? Like, you’ve got that look where you can either kill a guy or make someone feel all safe. Dual-purpose eyes.”

Roman blinked, obviously amused by her rambling, but there was something more there too. Though he didn’t say anything, the little smile on his face said enough.

“I’m serious, though,” she mumbled. “You’re… different from what I thought you’d be.”

“Different how?”

“I dunno,” she shrugged, lazily tracing random shapes on the ceiling above her as she slouched in the seat. “I guess I thought you’d be more of an arsehole. Like my dad made you out to me. All tough, don’t-give-a-shit-about-anybody kind of deal.”

Snorting, he squeezed onto the steering wheel. “Yeah? That what you think of me, huh?”

“I did,” she clarified. “But you’re not. Not entirely. You… I don’t know. You’re nicer than you let on.”

His jaw worked as he considered her analysis; she didn’t notice the shift in his demeanour, too caught up in her own world to realise how close her words hit to home. But he sighed gently, speaking a little quieter.

“Yeah, well… I guess not everybody gets to see that side of me.”

Nate turned her head toward him, blinking slowly as her tipsy brain processed his words. Her voice softened as she tilted her head. “But I do?”

What was it about late nights that got them both so… vulnerable? You’d never see them this calm with one another in broad daylight, where they could each see every change and glimmer of expression. It was… safer to do it where neither one could read the other’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Roman muttered. “You do.”

For a majority of the drive, the teasing resumed. Nate couldn’t stop herself from flirting with him, throwing out random compliments that had Roman laughing and subconsciously storing in his memory bank for times in which he needed a pick-me-up. But every time she said something he particularly liked, he’d respond with that same smirk, the same heated look that told her he was enjoying this just as much as she was.

Yet, it seemed like the more they drove around, seemingly with no destination in mind—the more her mind sobered up—the more she wanted to keep going. Keep poking the bear, as they say. She wanted him to snap.

She needed the night she got at the safehouse, and then some.

Nate had never been one to shy away from risk, but the idea that sprung to mind was something entirely different. Sitting next to Roman, she felt the tension between them building, thickening the air inside the confines of the car like a heavy fog. Tonight was already weird enough, so why not push it a little further?

She unbuckled her seatbelt and shifted in the passenger seat, carefully getting on her knees. The car was still moving. The low growl of the engine hummed beneath her as she moved to hover over Roman, her hand bracing on the console between them. It was dangerous, and she knew it. But the thrill of it—the fact that they could crash if either of them lost focus—only made her want it more.

Her lips brushed his ear when she leaned in close, warm breath teasing him. “Do you trust me?” she whispered delicately in that sultry accent, thick with desire as her body pressed against the side of his arm as he drove.

Trust. A subject that had risen multiple times during their time working together, all of which ended in some kind of argument. So when Roman shot her a glance and let out a smug laugh, followed by a very adamant “Not at all, Princess,” it didn’t surprise her. In fact, it just encouraged her more. 

Encouraged her to prove to him that he could, in fact, trust her.

Sliding even closer, her hand came up to steady herself on the headrest behind him. With an excited smirk, she whispered to him.

“Ya pochti kazhduyu noch’ dumal o tvoyem vkuse vo rtu.”

His reaction was immediate. Eyes darkened, lips curved wickedly, the heat rolling off in waves. He didn’t stop her, didn’t tell her to sit back down. Instead, his free hand—large, powerful, commanding—slipped casually around her waist, the move so natural it sent a pang of arousal straight between her legs. His fingers dipped lower, sliding over the curve of her backside, and then beneath her dress, his touch rough and unapologetic against her skin.

“You gotta stop with these games, Nate,” he chimed with little to no genuineness behind his words. It seemed like he was about to say something else, but Nate had shut him up pretty quickly by returning the favour, allowing her hand to explore the hard expanse of his wide chest and further down to his abdomen. 

Her breath caught in her throat as Roman’s hand explored further, squeezing, teasing, igniting her skin with every movement. Her body instinctively pressed closer to him, her knees digging into the seat, knowing full well that they were one sharp turn away from disaster. But right now, she couldn’t care less.

Especially not when his legs shifted apart, making plenty of room for her hand to settle on growing bulge under his black sweatpants.

His hand shot back up to her waist, holding onto her tightly as she began to slowly, methodically massage him. Her breasts pushed against his arm as her lips brushed the side of his strong neck. “I think…” she whispered against his heated skin, “That you love it when I get in your head.”

Roman turned just slightly, lips ghosting over her jaw, dangerously close to her mouth. “What’d you say back there? In that pretty little language of yours?”

She gave him an abrupt squeeze, causing him to jolt a little in his seat. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she enjoyed every second of it.

The words were a challenge, a dare. And Nate was more than willing to play along. She dragged her lips back up to his ear, so close that she could feel his pulse quicken under her touch.

“I said… I’ve been thinking about how you’d taste in my mouth almost every night.”

She rested the side of her head on his shoulder, peering down at where her hand had worked him over his sweats to the point of no return. His powerful frame remained tense and full in the driver’s seat, muscles taut under the dark, fitted t-shirt that clung to his body. His tattoos peeked out from beneath his sleeve, the tribal ink crawling up his thick arm, accentuating every ounce of his dominance, his control over everything in his world.

“How am I supposed to keep driving with you touchin’ me like that, huh? After tellin’ me somethin’ like that?”

A giggle left her mouth, followed by an amused hum as she tilted her head back to look up at his face. “Then I suggest finding somewhere to pull over so I can get that cock in my mouth…”

That was it. He snapped. His nose twitched, a grunt leaving his lips as he practically slammed his foot down on the gas, eagerly thinking of all the places he knew they could park up at. If she wanted to play this, then he’d happily go along with it.

She smirked to herself, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. It was reckless. It was dangerous. But that was exactly what made it so intoxicating.

Shifting a little to the side, Nate braced one hand on the console as she slipped the other beneath his waistband, her fingers grazing over the solid length hiding beneath his sweats, swollen and aching against the fabric. Roman swallowed thickly, releasing a shaky breath.

“Wha–”

“Shh,” she gently hushed him, dragging her lips along his beard. “Just keep driving, moy vozhd’ plemeni…”

A low groan rumbled deep in his chest as she freed him from the confines of his pants, her delicate fingers wrapping around the thick base. Back at the safehouse, she didn’t get a chance to actually look at him. She sure felt him—the sheer stinging sensation as he sank deep inside of her—but now she was seeing, witnessing his size… God, it was intimidating. Even in the limited light in the car. 

“Fucking hell, Reigns, how do you cope with this in your pants all day?” she asked with an air of exasperation, as though she had already gone three rounds with him. He didn’t answer, just let out a breathy laugh, trying earnestly to focus on the road. 

Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, Nate shuffled back a little so she could lean over his lap, collecting enough saliva in her mouth to let it fall right onto the bulbous tip of his cock. He hissed under his breath, hips jolting at the sensation.

“You’re gonna make me crash this damn car,” he muttered through gritted teeth. But he didn’t stop her. If anything, he shifted in his seat, giving her more room to work, his body leaning into her touch as if he couldn’t help himself.

“Then maybe you should pull over…” she teased, licking her lips before she reached up to press a small but heated kiss against the inked skin of his bicep. 

But Roman was stubborn. He wasn’t going to pull over. Not yet.

“You think I’m gon’ make it that easy for you, Princess?” His voice was thickly laced with arousal and growing primal urge. “Nah… you want that shit so bad, you’ll have to work for it.”

Challenge accepted.

“Da,” she purred up at him, smiling innocently at his warning glare for once again speaking Russian when he couldn’t completely devour her whole. But she wasted no time, lowering her mouth over his tip, allowing her tongue to swirl in slow, strategic circles around the hot, salty skin. As soon as she closed her lips around him, his body jerked, hips lifting slightly off the seat as he let out another sharp hiss.

“Fuck…” His hand shot to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as she began her descent, taking in his length as much as she could. Inch by inch. The slow bobbing of her head, the pressure along the underside of his cock from her tongue, tasting him with a hunger that could only be matched by his own, had him breathing raggedly.

The car even swerved slightly, and for a moment, she thought he might actually lose control. But Roman was nothing if not determined—he managed to keep the car steady, though his breathing had become uneven, every exhale shaky and strained as she pulled back and lewdly spit on his tip.

“Goddamn it,” he grunted, unable to stop his hips from careening upwards, causing his cock to slide even further into her mouth, her throat tightening around him at the intrusion. “Shit, that mouth ain’t so bad anymore, baby girl…” 

Nate hummed around him, feeling the wetness grow between her legs at his praise. The vibrations pulled another ragged moan from his lips as she continued to enjoy the taste of him. His body was coiling, tension building in every muscle, every fibre of his being as he fought to maintain control. His fingers tightened in her hair, guiding her, encouraging her to take him deeper, faster, until the car was filled with nothing but the explicit sound of her mouth sloppily working him over and his laboured gasps.

“Damn, why ain’t I used your mouth before?” he rasped. “Gon’ make me cum before we even get there.”

His praises only spurred her on. Hollowing her cheeks, she took him as deep as she could, throat convulsing as she gagged, choked. Her hand joined the effort, making up for the expanse she couldn’t fit into her mouth. Roman’s free hand slammed against the steering wheel, knuckles white as he tried desperately to stay focused, to keep from veering off the road entirely. 

“You better cut that out unless you want me to nut all on that pretty face,” he growled, glancing down at the sight of her head nestled just under the steering wheel, her knees still planted on the leather of the passenger’s seat. Body curved and arched over the centre console. He could only imagine how soaked she was right now.

With a wicked glint in her eye, she hummed again and slowly pulled her head back up, releasing him with a pop. She watched as her own hand steadily gave him a few more pumps, admiring the glistening in the dim light, the spit and translucent pearls that had gathered on her hand and along his skin. 

Licking her lips, she propped herself up on both hands, stretching out her back in the process and looking up at the Samoan god in front of her. She couldn’t quite place the emotion on his face. She didn’t know if he was angry at her for blowing him whilst driving. But his next words told her that wasn’t the case.

“You… are fuckin’ insane,” he muttered hoarsley. “You just wait til I find somewhere to pull over…”

Nate smirked, chuckling almost smugly as she pulled back enough to look at the road ahead of them. They’d ventured out into a more secluded part of the city, where buildings were few and far in between. And finally, with the mounting tension simmering around and between them, he slowed the car, pulling off onto a secluded dirt road.

It seemed like it was instantly after turning off the engine that he rapidly unbuckled his seatbelt, turned to face her and reached for the back of her neck to smash their lips together in a clumsy, needy kiss.

She was barely prepared for it, the lack of breath saved up heightening her senses as he rolled his tongue into her mouth, bit at her lips like he did the last time. It was like he was trying to crawl inside her via her mouth, large and strong hand pulling her forcefully against him as he grunted into her mouth. And when he finally broke the kiss, yanking at her bottom lip in the process, his eyes darkened fully. His fist tightened around the hair at the back of her neck.

“Get the fuck in the back so I can eat that pussy, Princess.”

Her heart rate raced as Roman growled out the command, his words dipping with a hunger that matched the fire burning low in her belly. The rough pull of her hair, the deep, guttural tone in his voice—it was everything she wanted and more. Her mouth was still wet, lips swollen from working his cock, her body vibrating with foretaste.

She shuffled back, fumbling with the door handle as Roman watched her, his eyes locked onto her with a heated, possessive glare. The moment she managed to climb out, he followed swiftly, already yanking at his sweats to pull them up just enough to walk as he stalked around the car. Nate scrambled into the backseat, practically hearing her own pulse as she leaned back against the seat, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

Roman was there within seconds, slamming the door behind him, the car shaking under his weight. A predatory gaze as he crawled into the space between her legs, guiding her back without much warning. His large frame took up the entire backseat, and he resorted to resting a knee on the floor of the car just to accommodate himself. She felt so small and vulnerable under his shadow, and yet a thrill coursed through her veins akin to the type that shocked her at Bunny’s compound.

One hand slid down to her bare leg, lifting it up so he could feel the smooth skin of her thigh, closer to the only thing in the way of his magical fingers.

“Take ‘em off,” he uttered, staring down at her with hooded eyes and an unmistakable nod to her panties with a sharp, delicate flick of his chin. 

Normally, the speed in which she obliged to his command would embarrass her—disappoint her. But it didn’t. She didn’t even hesitate, fingers quickly finding the flimsy material under her dress, shimmying them down as far as they could go in the position they were in, before he finished the task, tossing them into the front seat.

All the commotion had already caused her dress to ride up, allowing for her glistening core to be ogled at from the man above her. Especially as he placed his hands on the backs of her thighs, pushing them apart to expose her even more. He didn’t even need to look for very long to see just how wet she was.

“Fuck, baby… all this for me?” he exhaled, his voice chillingly soft as his fingers dug into the plushness of her thighs. “This soaked for a man you hate so much, huh?”

Oh, but I don’t hate you, Roman…

Nate couldn’t say anything. Just shift her hips, grinding against thin air. He leaned down, bringing her legs with him so she had to deal with the little friction from his sweatpants.

“Needy ‘lil princess,” he hummed, glancing down at her lips. He’d be stupid to deny it; her beauty, that is. All dressed up for the night, her makeup a little worn by now, but still present nonetheless. And he had to admit it to himself, regardless of it being internal…

Nate Volkov was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on. And he’d laid eyes—and other things—on a lot of women in his time.

“You gon’ be a good girl and let Daddy do what he needs to do?”

Fuck…

He could have sworn he heard her whimper. He fucking knew it… he knew she’d responded to the pet name last time. Let’s see how far I can push this…

“C’mon, speak to me, Princess…” he whispered, his lips barely touching just below her lips. “You bein’ here, you already disobeyed one daddy, hm?”

Her eyebrows furrowed, unsure what he was getting at exactly through the potent arousal that continued to form between her legs. She was literally throbbing, clenching—she needed it so fucking bad…

His head dipped lower, edging his nose down her chest and down to the space just above the neckline of her dress. “Don’t disobey this one, baby girl. You want Daddy to eat this pussy real good, you’re gonna have to be good.” He lifted his head, looking straight at her. “You gonna be good?”

Nate let out a shaky breath, hand gripping onto the fabric of his shirt as she nodded earnestly. “Y-yes…”

He smirked, giving her legs another squeeze. “Ain’t the answer I’m lookin’ for, Princess.”

The thing was: she knew exactly what he wanted her to say, what he wanted her to call him. But her own stubborn streak, her own unwillingness to obey at the drop of a hat, despite the reward for complying, being a potentially mind-blowing orgasm, was too dominant.

That didn’t mean she didn’t want to, though. God only knew how she’d searched for years for something to fulfil the gaping hole made from a lack of… well, any kind of nurturing. And Roman had been good to her, really… Right?

Working with him, being around him and his family—the enemy—was, ironically, the only time she felt anything close to… acceptance.

And even if it would come to her own demise, even if there was a sliver of a chance that her next words would come and bite her in the ass… She. Didn’t. Care. She needed this.

“I’ll be good,” she managed to say, still grabbing onto his bicep even though he had already made a slow descent down her body, both knees on the floor now. “...Daddy.”

Her breath hitched at the tail end of the sordid word as Roman’s lips met the inside of her thigh, kissing, licking, biting his way toward her pussy with an agonisingly slow pace. “That’s right,” he mumbled. Nate’s back arched off the seat, her hips bucking slightly, silently begging for him to stop teasing her. But Roman was in control now, and he wasn’t about to let her rush him.

“Perestan’ menya draznit’... ty nuzhen etoy kiske, detka…” she whimpered as he blew little puffs of hot air right against her dripping folds, teasing her to the max. 

Roman grinned, his lips brushing against her, barely pressing down on her throbbing clit. “I don’t give a damn what you’re saying in that Russian, baby,” he muttered as he kissed over her heat. “But I know you beggin’ for me.”

Her body jerked at the contact, and he saw her hand fly up to cover her mouth, trying to suppress the needy sounds bubbling up in the throat. But Roman wasn’t having it. “Don’t you fuckin’ hide those sounds from me,” he ordered, followed by a sharp nip to her thigh with his teeth. 

Nate’s teeth clamped down on her lower lip, her breaths coming out in shallow pants. “Please,” she whispered, hating how broken and desperate she sounded. “Roman, please.”

“Please, what—”

“Please, Daddy!” she huffed, still with an air of defiance, but peered down at him with a softer expression. “I need you.”

Without another word, he finally dipped his head, his thick tongue slipping out to drag a slow, deliberate line up her slit. Nate’s entire body jumped at the contact, her hand shooting down to grip his hair, pulling at it despite its place in a bun. A moan tore from her throat, no longer able to contain it.

His tongue worked like a seasoned veteran, tasting her, teasing her, fingers digging deeper into her thighs to keep her from wriggling around too much. He wanted to take his time, to savour the way her body reacted to him, but the little sounds she made, the breathless moans and whimpers, were making it harder to keep his control.

“Fuck,” he grunted between licks, his voice vibrating against her swollen bud. “Pussy tastes so good… so fuckin’ sweet.” He wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking the hot flesh into his mouth to drag sloppy circles around it. Nate gasped, a choked groan leaving her throat as her back arched once again.

Roman didn’t stop. His tongue flicked over her sensitive pearl, focusing the tip of his tongue on the part of her that made her writhe and pant the most. He wrapped his thick arms around her legs, hands coming round her hips to spread her open even more for him. His body moved closer to her, practically pulling her lower half off the seat entirely as he divulged.

Nate barely registered just how painfully she folded in half by the sheer force of Roman’s form. She just revelled in the overwhelming sensation of his mouth slobbering all over her cunt, bringing her to unreal levels of ecstasy in the process. But it was the much-missed sensation of two of his fingers pushing their way inside her, broadly curling just deep enough to find that spot, that had her crying out even louder.

“There it is,” he muttered, more to himself than to her, as he felt her walls fluttering around his fingers. “Wanna make sure this pussy cums nice n’ hard for me, Princess. Right on my fuckin’ tongue.”

His mumbles were fuel to the fire. Mind spinning, torn between the intoxicating sensations bestowed upon her by this Samoan god, and the mess tangled within her brain. Thinking about how badly Boris Sokolov had wanted to be in this position for years, but here she was… doing that exact thing… with Roman Reigns. The enemy, the man she had known for barely three months—and how he had utterly consumed her every thought, every inch of her body.

Her head fell back against the seat, Roman’s fingers fucking her slowly, purposefully, in tandem with the sinful rhythm of his tongue. Her thighs quivered under his grip, his broad shoulders keeping her splayed open, making sure she had nowhere to go.

“You ever let him get this close, principessa?” he rumbled against her. “You ever let him taste this sweet ass pussy?” 

Nate shuddered. The sheer taboo of it made her brain short-circuit. The fact he seemed to have known what she was thinking… It was control, dominance, a pure primal claim. She couldn’t hold back the moans, whole body vibrating as he dragged his fingers in and out of her.

“Answer me.” His command was sharp, fingers curling into her spot harder.

“N-no…” she choked out. “He’s never had me—oh, fuck, right there,” she cut herself out with a strained groan, her fingers tightening on his hair, inevitably pulling out strands from the bun. 

Roman chuckled darkly, the vibration of his laugh pressing into her clit as he sucked hard on the sensitive pearl. “Good,” he muttered, pulling his mouth off her just long enough to smirk up at her, eyes gleaming with sheer satisfaction. “This pussy still mine.”

“Shit…” she whined as he resumed his work, salivating and slobbering all over her pussy, the sound of it lewd but a contributor to the orgasm welling up inside her. Throbbing against his tongue. Juices continuing to flow, making a mess of his perfectly groomed beard, and whatever else had the misfortune of being within immediate range. She could even see the movement on his cheeks as he ate her out like a starved animal.

Digging her high heel into the centre of his back, he careened forward ever so slightly, growling against her. The action was entirely unintentional, but the payoff was divine. She couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t hold on for much longer.

“Prodolzhay, ya konchu, chert voz’mi, Roman…” she panted, clenching her fist into his hair as she started to buck her hips up against him. 

“God, you sound so fuckin’ good like that,” he breathed out, before pulling his head back, removing his fingers only to have them come up to rub erratically at her clit. He peered up at her, smirking at her dazed state, how she whimpered a little at the lost contact. “You gonna cum for me, Princess?”

“Fuck! Yes,” she answered through a strained whine. 

Roman didn’t answer, just shot back down to finish what he started. And before she could blink, her orgasm hit her with violent force, a broken moan of pure ecstacy exorcised from her chest—thighs attempting to clamp down around his head, but firmly kept apart by this man’s ridiculously strong hands. Her whole body seized, her hips jerking off the seat as he growled low in his chest, continuing to lap at her relentlessly. Prolonging every shudder that wracked through her.

When she finally collapsed back against the leather seat, panting and gasping for air, Roman didn’t let up, moving to shift over her, lowering his face just inches from hers as he leaned into her. She could taste herself on his lips when he kissed her roughly, one hand grabbing the back of her neck while the other fumbled with the hair tie that did little for the mess she’d made. He yanked it out, snapping it around his wrist. 

Nate kept up with him, her hands feeling around his waist, tucking her fingers under his shirt to feel the hard, defined muscle of his back, his abs, anything she could get her hands on. She could feel the outline of his hard cock firmly pushing up against her, and the thought of him inside her again made her throb with desire.

She’d even forgotten, in the midst of her erotic haze, that they were in a car that provided limited space to move around. The fumbling of his sweatpants, and his attempt of positioning himself became too frustrating, and eventually, he adjusted his position, pulling her with him as he settled behind the driver’s seat. Fingers, digging into her skin, he held onto her waist possessively as he locked eyes with her. “Turn around, Princess,” he rasped.

Nate blinked up at him. “What?”

“You heard me,” Roman growled, giving her backside a firm tap. “Turn the fuck around. I want you to ride me… But I wanna watch that ass of yours while you do.”

Her heart stumbled in her chest. The raw yearning in his voice made her pussy convulse and shudder along with her whole body. Swallowing hard, she shifted on the seat, her legs shaky as she turned to press her knees into the leather seat, facing away from him. Her hands braced herself on the headrest in front of her. 

Roman leaned back, sliding down into the seat as far as he could go, his thick thighs spreading wide to accommodate her. Large hands gripped at her hips tightly, thumbs digging into the fleshy curves and pulling her closer to him as his mouth hovered hear her ear, his breath hot and heavy against her skin. Almost as hot and heavy as the tip of his cock gliding across her slick folds.

“You feelin’ this, baby girl?” he whispered. “Feel how fuckin’ hard you make me? How bad I need to be in you every fuckin’ time I see you?”

Nate’s head fell back slightly, a soft moan falling from her parted lips as she reached down, guiding the thick head of his cock to her slick entrance. He had to have been the biggest she’d ever had… And even though she’d had him before, it was insignificant in preparing her for another ride—so to speak.

Roman groaned low in his chest as she lined him up, holding onto her tightly. “That’s it,” he muttered. “Nice n’ slow, baby. Take me all the way in.”

Biting down on her lip, she lowered herself onto him, her body stretching around his girth inch by inch. The pressure, the fullness, it was all so overwhelming, and she couldn’t stop the breathy whine from leaving her mouth as she sank down onto him completely.

“O bozhe…” she gasped, gripping the back of the driver’s seat for support. “Roman…”

“Fuck,” Roman grunted, his hands roaming from her waist to her backside, squeezing the soft flesh as he helped guide her movements. “That’s right… every fuckin’ inch.”

Nate’s response was a choked moan as she tried to lift herself up, but Roman’s hands were still on her hips, pushing her down again, forcing her to take all of him. The angle was intense, his cock hitting deep inside her with every slight movement. Her breath came out in ragged gasps, her body trembling as she began to ride him, the tight space making it harder to control her movements, but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, it fuelled his need.

“Fuck, yes…” he hissed, his head falling back against the seat, eyes rolling shut as her tight core enveloped him. “Goddamn… Fuckin’ perfect body…”

She could barely breathe. The sensation of him filling her completely made her dizzy. “Oh god, Roman—fuck,” she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut; this position definitely made his size all the more intense to take. Impossibly thick. Stretched to the limit. “Feels so fucking good…”

Hands back on her ass, he rocked her gently, urging her to pick up the pace of her movements. “Yeah? You like how that feels, Princess?” His voice was low, strained. “Like the way I fill up this pussy, huh?”

“Yes,” she breathed out with an earnest nod, rolling her hips over his, feeling every inch of him drag against her sensitive walls. It was too much, and yet somehow not enough.

Once she had settled into a rhythm, one that had her enveloping him completely, hitting her spot each time he sank back inside, Roman couldn’t help himself. She just looked so good like this, and her ass… Fuck, she was so fucking hot.

“Look at you, baby girl,” he grunted behind her. “Ridin’ me like that… like you fuckin’ own me.” His hands guided her, pushing her up and down on his cock. “You been wantin’ this again, huh? Been thinkin’ ‘bout me since the safehouse?”

All she could do was nod, unable to speak as she rode him quicker, greedily taking him at her leisure. 

Big mistake.

Without another word, Roman’s hand came up to the back of her head, twisting his fist into her hair to yank her backwards until her back made contact with his body. Forced to let go of the driver’s seat headrest, she was lost as to what to do with her hands; she grabbed at anything, the uselessly small ledge on the window, the seat they were on. But she eventually found his hand, the one that wasn’t painfully grasping at her hair, and held onto that instead. 

“I asked you a question,” he hissed into the skin of her neck as he inhaled her scent. “You been wantin’ this dick again, ain’t you, baby girl? Wanted me to pound this tight lil’ pussy…” The more he spoke, the more he took control of their speed, starting to throw his hips up from beneath, fucking her silly. “Say it, Nate.”

Her pants got quicker, and the pitch of her moans heightened. She could feel tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “Yes!” she choked out, eyes rolling to the back of her head as the tip of his dick hit a particularly sensitive spot deep inside her soul. “Holy shit… Roman—right there, right there…shit, fuck!” she groaned, lifting her hand to grab onto his shoulder behind her. It was awkward, trying to hold onto him how she wanted. 

“Mmm,” Roman rumbled, letting go of her hair and bringing both his hands around to the front of her, trailing them up until he reached her breasts. He disregarded the value of the dress she wore and practically ripped the fabric down so the warm skin made contact with the rough palms of his hands, exposing her. “Fuckin’ perfect,” he moaned, his lips hovering over her shoulder. “This pussy was made for me…”

The car creaked beneath them as her ass bounced on his lap, as their skin collided, obscene sounds coming from her pussy taking him over and over.

“Turn around, Princess,” he rasped, giving her chest a final squeeze. “Lemme see you.”

With a whimper, she weakly slid off of him, his dick sliding out of her and leaving her empty for only a moment before he pulled her back on top of him, this time facing each other so they could see the absolute state they put the other in.

“Keep ridin’ me, baby, fuck yourself on this dick,” he encouraged, wrapping his muscular arms around her body, assisting her in her movements. He met her downward grinds with a sharp upward thrust, taking a moment to appreciate the body of this woman. He needily captured one of her stiff nipples into his mouth, holding her against him as he proceeded to swirl his tongue around the erect nub, dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin. He swore he felt her pussy jolt at the action.

“God,” Nate gasped, her breath hitching as his dick slammed into her repeatedly. “So fucking good.”

“Yeah?” he chuckled darkly, peering up at her. “That feel good?”

“Yeah…” Her hands moved from his shoulders up to his hair, pushing it completely from his face so she could feast her eyes on his intimidating features, the arch in his brows as he leered up at her like she was the most despicable human he’d ever seen. Yet, all the while, he’s balls deep in her, fucking her from underneath like he’d never get to have sex ever again. 

“Mne nravitsya chuvstvovat’, budto ty razryvayesh’ menya popolam… moy vozd’ pelemeni,” she purred down at him, purposefully tightening herself around him as she did.

“You keep talkin’ to me like that, I’m gon’ nut in this pretty pussy,” he growled at her, lowering his hands to grab onto her ass, spreading her out and picking up the pace with his own hips. She cried out, clenching her fists into his hair. “That what you want, Princess? You want Daddy to nut all in that pussy? Get her nice and full for Boris stupid ass, huh?”

Now, that shouldn’t have brought her closer to the edge. But, God, did it…

“Yes, Daddy,” she panted, “Please… Please, please… Please, moy vozhd’ plemeni…”

Considering that Roman practically had his brain inside her, it was quite the impressive feat that he picked up on one of her Russian phrases. A phrase she had used three times tonight…

“What’s that mean?” he asked her, starting to pant himself.

“What?”

“That… what you just said.”

Nate smirked a little, humming as she laughed breathily. “Moy vozhd’ plemeni?”

“Shit… yeah, that…”

“It mea—oh, fuck, fuck…” she gasped, her entire body twitching and tensing up as her orgasm hit her so suddenly, so intensely that she had to push her forehead up against his in a feeble attempt to steady herself. “I’m cumming, fuck, I’m cumming…”

“Damn, baby, no warnin’ or nothin’?” he leaned his head back, lids hooded as he watched her writhe on top of him, feeling her pussy throb and convulse around him, soaking him in her sweet release. God, he wanted to taste her again already… “So fuckin’ pretty cummin’ on this dick. Ride it out, Princess…”

She really did. She rode it out, using every ridge and curve of his cock to draw the final drops of her climax from within. But now… all she wanted to do was make this gorgeous creation beneath her come undone and fill her up. 

“Hmm…” she hummed, ignoring the sensitivity as she continued to roll her hips. “Your turn now, Daddy…”

Roman groaned, practically turning inside out as he heard that name on the tip of her precious tongue, in that precious accent. That reminds him…

“Tell me,” he breathed.

“Tell you what?” She dug her nails into his shoulders, tilting her head to the side.

“Tell me what it means.”

“Moy vozhd’ plemeni?” 

“Fuck, yeah, tell me, Nate…” 

With a sneaky little smile, she lowered her face down to his, bringing a hand up to place it on the side of his face, locking her eyes with his. “It means…” She glanced down at his lips, barely brushing hers against them, just before whispering very gently:

“My Tribal Chief.”

Her words hit him like a bolt of lightning. Roman groaned, his grip on her bruising as his thrusts became dangerously erratic. “Fuck,” he snarled. “You gon’ make me cum, baby girl… You ready for it?”

“Yes,” Nate whimpered, feeling him pulsing inside her. “Cum inside me, Daddy. Fill me up… please.”

He let out a guttural moan as he came hard, trembling as he emptied himself. Nate’s breath hitched as she felt the hot rush of his release, helping him ride it out whilst she rode out the tail end of her own, nails digging into his skin. Breath a mixture of gasps and moans.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, her forehead resting against his, both of them panting, chests heaving, trying to catch their breaths. The air in the car was thick, the windows fogged from their insatiability. Neither of them spoke, too consumed by the moment to ruin it with words.

But the silence didn’t last long.

Nate’s phone, tossed somewhere in the front seat, began to ring obnoxiously, breaking the bubble they had created. She groaned, reluctantly sliding off Roman’s lap, her body immediately feeling the loss of him. She pulled her dress back into place, wincing at the soreness between her legs, before crawling over the centre console to reach for her phone.

Roman’s hand came down hard on her ass, a loud smack echoing in the enclosed space. “You really gonna just leave Daddy like that, huh?” he teased, his voice deep and satisfied.

She smirked, but didn’t respond. She grabbed her phone, pulling it up to see who was calling—and then her heart stopped.

Ten missed calls. All from Becky Lynch.

Her blood ran cold. Her earlier calm, her sense of control—all of it vanished. “Fuck,” she muttered under hear breath.

Roman leaned back, watching her with a smug grin until he saw her expression shift. “What’s wrong?” he asked, still lazy with post-orgasmic bliss.

Nate whipped her head around, glaring at him. “Why didn’t you tell me my phone was ringing, you twat?”

He raised an eyebrow, completely unphased by her sudden shift in mood. “Didn’t hear it. You were a little busy ridin’ my dick, remember?”

“Are you fucking serious? It’s Becky!” she snapped, panic rising in her chest. “I’ve been waiting for this phone call for a fucking week, Roman, she’s the only one who can help us right now! Chert voz’mi…”

Nate muttered a few more curses under her breath, finally finding her panties tangled up on the edge of the driver's seat in her comedown back to reality. She brushed past Roman as she crawled over into the front passenger seat, not even bothering to get out and walk round; it felt like the whole world knew she’d fucked up. Even something as minor as missing calls. It didn’t matter how small or meaningless something seemed—if Nate felt like she’d fucked up… then, by God, she fucked up.

Roman gave her a raised eyebrow, as though he wanted to say something, but she shot him a look that made it perfectly clear she was all business now.

“I’m calling her back,” she said firmly, pressing Becky’s number. Roman seemed like he was about to protest, but her warning glare, and his own common sense in knowing this really was important, kept it at bay. She hit the speakerphone button, ignoring his expectant look as the line rang.

All the while, Roman took the mature approach by leaving the car to walk around to the front seat. She caught a glimpse of him adjusting himself as he did, through the thin fog that settled over the driver’s window, before he smoothly slid back in. He proceeded to push his hair back up and tie it in a lazy little bun that still allowed half of his hair to hang down in what can only be described as a mini ponytail.

“Nate!”

The Irish twang caught Nate’s attention, and she swiftly turned her head away from Roman and back to her phone.

“Finally, ye answer. Thought I was wastin’ my time here, callin’ nonstop.”

“Sorry, I was….” she croaked, taking a moment to clear her throat. “I was with someone helping me on this.” She darted a quick glance at Roman, who watched her with mild amusement. Smug prat.

“Right…” Becky said with a note of curiosity. “Listen. I talked to my contact. He’s willing to share what he has. Says he’s got some files, things he’s kept to himself for almost a decade now.”

Nate felt a flicker of hope, despite the awkward start. “And… you believe this person to be reliable, yeah?”

“He might have the information you need,” the redhead replied somewhat hesitantly. “He just… doesn’t want anyone to know it’s come from him. So… for now, ye not going to find out who this person is, ‘kay?”

She furrowed her brow, once again glancing at Roman, who shared her perplexion. “I’m supposed to trust this guy, but I can’t know who he is? Is this a joke, Rebecca?” She could almost feel the cringe from the other end of the line at the use of Becky’s full name. 

“I’m sayin’ ye can trust him, so ye can trust him, Natalka,” Becky bit back. “I know for a fact he has things nobody else does, and it sounds like ye need serious help.”

Huffing and sitting back, Nate thought for a moment, running her tongue over her teeth. She wasn’t even sure why she was so concerned about the identity of this contact. She already snuck out of her own home to meet Roman Reigns, and then proceed to fuck him a second time after she specifically promised herself she wouldn’t do that, so why the fuck should she care about where information comes from anymore? 

Well, the answer is simple. Becky Lynch. The Irish. Even though she wasn’t even connected to her family’s dealings anymore, information Nate had only just learned a week prior, it was still a sore subject. Too many betrayals. Too many friends lost. Too many… too much… death.

“Becky,” Nate sighed, “Please just tell me who the guy is, I don’t know what you think I’m gonna do with his name.”

A pause lingered on the line, along with some rustling, before she heard a long exhale from Becky. “My husband. It’s my husband, Nate.”

“And his name would be….?” Nate trailed off.

“Seth. Seth Rollins.”

The name meant absolutely nothing to Nate, but she noticed Roman’s reaction out of the corner of her eye—like he’d just seen a fucking ghost outside the car.

She tried to focus on Becky’s reassurances that it would be fine, even as the energy in the car shifted dramatically. Roman’s expression had darkened into something bordering on feral, his jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles twitched in time with the pulse beating in his temple. His hands rested on the wheel, but his gaze was distant, staring ahead like he was seeing far beyond the windshield. His eyes were sharp, glacial, the look of a man consumed by something deeper and more dangerous than mere anger—a buried intensity that might shatter given the slightest push.

“So,” Becky’s voice crackled through the speaker, “if I told you who I’ve got over here, I think it’s only fair you tell me who’s on your side.”

Glancing at Roman, Nate knew shit could go south fast if she said the wrong thing. But he was somewhere else entirely, locked in a place she couldn’t reach or… predict. With her only option being to think on her feet, Nate cleared her throat, injecting a hint of authority into her voice. “Becks, I can promise you this person’s very resourceful. He’s already done enough for me to know he’s being honest,” she took a quick look down at her leg, right at the area on her thigh that now bore a scar from a bullet and had once been tended to by the man in question. “No reason to worry.”

Becky paused, then pressed, only slightly more serious. “Nate… do you trust this person?”

Nate looked at Roman again, lingering this time. The question felt a little heavier than she wanted it to, but she had no choice but to answer honestly. Why wouldn’t she?

“I think I do.”

For a beat, the answer suspended in the space between them. It came out a lot softer than usual, almost vulnerable—a state she rarely allowed herself to fully fall into, not even when by herself. Certainly never around Roman. Good job he was still in his own world, distantly staring daggers into nothing ahead of him, but she did feel the shift in atmosphere. The way it seemed to… bend around the truth she had just spoken.

Just like that, Nate’s usual edge returned as she added dryly, “Besides… he doesn’t have much of a choice. He’ll go along with things whether he likes it or not.”

“Fine,” Becky replied, satisfied for the moment. “Then we’ll meet—all four of us, some place quiet. Can’t be havin’ too many eyes on us.”

“Trust me, I’m more than happy with that,” Nate laughed ruefully, once again reminded of the repercussions of being caught mingling with The Bloodline.

“Good. Seth will run through what he thinks is important, it might be relevant, it might not, but it sounds like it’s worth a shot… So, I’ll set it up, yeah?”

“Yeah, we’ll be there,” Nate nodded, and with a quick goodbye, she ended the call, her attention snapping back to Roman. His silence now seemed like an echo.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Alright, what the fuck’s wrong with you now?”

He didn’t answer. His jaw clenched tighter, and he gave her a sharp side glance, before starting the engine. “You wanna go back to that mansion of yours, or you wantin’ me to take you to Tribeca?”

Nate crossed her arms with a shrug. “Just take me home. Can’t be gone lo—”

“Wasn’t askin’ for your life story,” he cut her off.

She glared at him, unimpressed. “Right, didn’t expect you to care to listen to me anyway. Chertov pridurok…”

As they drove, her eyes tracked the streets and landmarks, noting that he wasn’t heading toward the usual route back to her home. The building started blurring into unfamiliar territory.

“Uh, are you lost, or just getting creative?” she muttered, half-joking, half-over this night.

“We’re takin’ the long way,” he curtly responded without paying her the respect of a glance.

She rolled her eyes, but her curiosity got the best of her. Before she could ask why, Roman’s voice came, low and gravelly, cutting through the silence like a knife, just as harshly as it did through the scowl on his face.

“Think it’s time I tell you a lil' somethin’ ‘bout Seth fuckin’ Rollins.”

[the-wolf-poet]

The Alphabet as my Youtube Suggested Songs

A: Attention - The Academy Is... B: Becoming Closer to Closure - Of Machines C: Cada Mes - Andrés D: Dark Days - Nihilist Abyss E: Eulita Terrace - Really From F: Foxholes and Deities - Sianvar G: Give Unto Me - Evanescence H: - I: In Circles - Holding Absence J: June Gloom - The Like K: - L: Lost Library - Omori OST M: - N: Needed to Do Today - Frontside O: Ocelot - Foxing P: Postcards and Polaroids - Sleeping with Sirens Q: Quaainterlude - Death Spells R: Rokutousei no Yoru - Aimer S: Spiral Born Black into the Upwards Night - Pretend T: Tom’s Diner - Suzanne Vega U: Unravel - TK from Ling Toshite Sigure V: Vanity’s Fair - A Lot Like Birds W: World’s End Valentine - Omori OST X: - Y: You Are the Moon - The Hush Sound Z: -

[johnslittlespoon]

just thought about how hard john would get down to gasolina in the club and made myself laugh

[steakout-05]

i've been thinking of making a playlist dedicated to Data Soong, here're some songs i have on the list right now :D

Spiral Staircase - Patricia Taxxon

Systemic Lover - De Staat

Yours Truly, 2095 - Electric Light Orchestra

If I Were Human - BNNY RBBT

Like Humans Do - David Byrne

Are 'Friends' Electric? - Gary Numan

Geocities - Lemon Demon

Within - Daft Punk

Hello World - Louie Zong

Human After All - Daft Punk

Kokoro - Toraboruta

One More Robot / Sympathy 3000-21 - The Flaming Lips

Remember - Air

Touch - Daft Punk

[knightwhoisni]

got a music taste so widespread nobody wants to pass me the aux

[lovinggreeniehours]

i forgot. how exhausting playlist making is. damn. sorry about the tags i have so much to say about playlist making lol

[cringefailmike]

you find an old sony discman in the security office, long abandoned with the rest of freddy's. looks like it still works - and there's a CD inside. do you listen?