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temilyrights · 3 days ago

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43) “god you’re so emotionally constipated.” for Emily x Reader please.

history smothers us

emily prentiss x gn!reader

summary: years of unspoken words and misconceptions threaten to destroy what remains of a once close relationship. you couldn't imagine your life without emily. now you look at her and feel every part of the ocean that destroyed you both. featuring prompt "god you're so emotionally consitpated" from my prompt list.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: angst with a happy ending. mention of blood. no use of y/n. set in season 12. unit chief prentiss.

a/n: thank you so much for the request <3 sorry it took me a while I struggled to find the right idea. I imagine this wasn't what you had in mind but I do hope you enjoy it anyway. also side note: i've deleted my taglist, i'm restarting because it was years old so if anyone would like be re-tagged or anyone new would like to be added pls lmk!

The police lights flash in the midnight sky. Agents and local police spread across the farmhouse. And you, sitting in the back of an ambulance, blood dripping down the side of your head, the beginnings of a headache making itself known.

The bright torch shining in your eyes makes you wince, but the EMT clears you of a concussion and hands you pain meds to swallow. You drag your hand through your hair, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips.

The unsub had come out of nowhere and whacked you over the head with a metal pole, and he probably would’ve done a lot more if it wasn’t for Tara being two steps behind you.

Honestly, you were fine. A little banged up, with a nasty bruise already forming, but the blood had been wiped away and it was almost like it had never happened.

Well, apart from the very angry Unit Chief Prentiss stalking towards you.

You wish this was an unfamiliar sight, but god she’d been back months now and you don’t think her smile had been pointed in your direction once.

“What were you thinking?” She scolds, voice sharp and eyes narrowed. You don’t miss the shaking of her hands as she holds them tightly on her hips or the rising flush of her cheeks, both she would blame on the cold but you knew they were born out of concern, not that she’d ever admit it. Not anymore.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realise the FBI now required its agents to have the abilities to see through walls.” You roll your eyes, the half-joke an attempt to fix her glare, but you know even as the words pass your lips it’s futile. Your shoulders slump, already tired for the fight ahead, “He came out of nowhere, Prentiss.”

Her lips purse, “They require you to be able to clear a room. It seems you might need a refresher course. Maybe until you can be trusted and I deem you requalified it’s best you stay back in quantico.”

“What?” You ask incredulously. Of all the dumb things- “Let me get this straight, you’re benching me over nothing? Tara was through that door seconds later. I wasn’t defying your orders. You have no reason to do this!”

“I want you to redo your basic training so I know you can be trusted in the field.” She demands, stoic, serious, and so far away from the soft woman you used to be able to reach out to.

You laugh, but the noise is sad and wild. You shake your head in disbelief, watching the woman in front of you that years ago used to be the person you were closest to in the world. Now you stare at her and feel every part of the ocean that destroyed you both. “God, you’re so emotionally constipated.”

“Excuse me?”

You push yourself off the end of the ambulance, bringing yourself to your full height and meeting her gaze. You knew the day she accepted the unit chief position this wouldn’t end well, there was too much history, too much the two of you had left unsaid, hurt and anger smothering any possible relationship left.

“Let’s not pretend this has anything to do with my performance.” You begin,

words low enough that if she didn’t listen the words threatened to disappear with the wind, “It’s because I got hurt and you’d rather damage my career and ruin the tatters of our relationship than admit that me getting hurt scared you.”

Emily steps backwards, face stricken. Her hands fall from her hips, her mouth opening and closing as she struggles for words.

You decide there’s nothing left she can say. You excuse yourself and grab a lift with Luke, happy to leave the crime scene and your boss behind. After everyone’s finished at the farmhouse and packed up at the police station it’s nearing two am and everyone is ordered back to the hotel to catch a few hours of sleep before the flight in the morning.

Your feet are dragging by the time you make it to your room. The meds have done their job though and your headache had faded away, but nothing but sleep was going to help your heavy and aching bones. You wave a tired goodbye to Tara, who unlike Emily had no issues checking in and making sure you were okay, and then retreat to your room.

You slump into the chair at the desk, telling yourself you’ll find the energy to get ready for bed in one minute. But so thankful to finally be off your feet. Your reprieve lasts only minutes before a knock sounds at your door. A withered sigh leaves your lips and you consider ignoring it but still find yourself pushing yourself upright and making your way back to the door.

When you open it, you wish you’d listened to your thoughts.

“Hi?” You say hesitantly, staring into the tired face of Emily Prentiss. There’s no anger, her shoulders are almost slumped, defeated maybe? You look away, too scared to analyse further.

“Can I come in?”

You open the door further allowing her entrance. She smiles, tight lipped at you, nodding her thanks. You close the door and wait for her to speak, pondering how in the hell you both got to awkward silences and forced tight lipped smiles when years ago you two could share looks across the room and know what the other was thinking, spent hours talking and laughing together, how you had built a life and never thought there would be a day that she wasn’t in it with you.

“We can’t go on like this.” She starts eyes meeting yours before flickering away, “Things between us have not been right since I returned and I think maybe we should clear the air. I want to be the Unit Chief, I want to be back here at Quantico but that only works if we can be a team.”

You scoff. It slips from your mouth, uncontrolled and harsh. Emily’s gaze snaps to yours, her surprise at the sound clear. You shake your head, “What is there to say?” Where would we even begin?

“I-” She chokes, blinking as the emotions claw at her throat. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

Your brows draw in confusion as you shake your head, “What are you talking about?”

“After everything that happened with Doyle-”

Your eyes bulge, “You think I'm still upset about that? God, do you think I’m a monster? You survived. You lived. That’s all that matters.”

Tears pool in her eyes, but she blinks them away, her gaze shifting to the wall as her fingers pick at a hangnail. She looks back at you, still picking, gaze more open and lost than you’ve seen in a long time. “Then why? I hurt you. I can see it in the way you can barely stand to be around me, like it hurts you to even be in my presence.”

You blow out a breath, eyes moving around the room before they land back on her and then away again. “It’s not your fault.” You breathe, emotions lodged in your throat and heart beating wildly against your chest as you try and force the words out. “You didn’t hurt me, I hurt myself. There was never going to be a life I led that you weren’t right with me, you know?” You laugh, wet and broken.

Emily’s mouth falls open, her eyes emotional pits that you don’t dare hold.

“And then you left for London and I couldn’t exactly be upset because I had no say in what you did with your life. We were just friends. I knew it’s what you needed and I don’t resent you for that. I just…” You take a breath, “I was so angry at myself for missing you, for thinking that I could be someone you would stay for.”

And there it was. The truth. Because at the end of the day, you’ve always just wanted to be enough for the woman in front of you. For her to see you as more than just your friend. To one day have your feelings returned.

She’d left and you’d both been busy and you’d deliberately tried to separate yourself as well, drawing back from the painful reminder that you weren’t enough. And since her return, all those emotions have been resurfacing, however much you tried to keep them buried. Because falling out of love with Emily Prentiss was just not something you were capable of, and you’ve spent years trying too.

Emily approaches you, the space between you closing ever so slightly. Your gaze sticks to the ground, scared to see the easy to read emotions across her face. She takes a breath, the sound muffled by the beating of your heart.

“After I came back from Paris, I used to find myself looking at you and knowing I couldn’t be that woman you remembered, the one you sought for. I wanted to. Desperately.” Her voice hitches, and then lowers to a hoarse whisper, “I wanted to be the woman you fell for.”

Your eyes finally rise, against your will. Tears make their way in delicate paths down her cheeks, she looks every bit as lost as you feel. The only thing stopping you from falling apart is the fear that if you let go you may never recover.

“I didn’t need you to be anyone. I just wanted you to be yourself. I wanted you to trust me.” You respond gently.

She shakes her head, “No, everyone was looking for that version of me that I couldn’t grasp onto.”

“Emily,” You sigh painfully. Her face crumples, eyes squeezing shut at the sound of her name from your lips. It’s been so long, you know. “You were healing from a trauma. I’ve always wanted the authentic you, whatever that includes. Why would that suddenly change?”

She nods, a deep frown on her face as she accepts your words. Then a wet laugh, as she wipes away her tears. “I’ve missed you. Every day. I hate being in the same room as you and it being awkward. I used to be able to look at you and know what you’re thinking. I want that back.”

A small smile curves your lips, “Me too, more than anything.”

“Yeah?” She questions. Her teeth run across her lip, as she dares to hope. “You think we could get back there?”

Your heart hammers. “I just need you to be really clear here. What exactly are we getting back to?”

She steps forward, finally close enough to touch. Her hand hesitantly reaches out and touches yours, her cold fingers intertwining with your warm ones. Your body remembers her touch, relaxes and leans into it automatically. You eat it hungrily, tracking the movement before your eyes rise to meet hers and find soft, open eyes watching you. “I want to make you fall in love with me again.”

Your breath catches in your throat, tears pooling in your eyes as your hand shakes in hers.

“And this time, I promise, I’ll be there to catch you.”

“We might have a slight problem with that plan.” You laugh, trying your hardest not to sob.

She frowns, nose wrinkling in the way you adore. “What’s that?”

“It’s pretty difficult to re-fall in love when I never stopped loving you in the first place.” You huff, and Emily laughs, rich and free and bright. Her face joyful and happy, and with the wide bright smile you’ve waited months to feel pointed in your direction. God the sight makes your head spin.

“Is that so?” She asks, hand moving up to cup your cheek, eyes full of love and pointed at you.

You can only nod, dizzy from her attention and the emotions coursing through your body.

When her lips find yours it feels like finally coming home. Soft and delicate, both too scared to push too hard, exploring slowing even as her hand holds your cheek and yours fists in her shirt. You’ve waited years for this, and if you get more of these than it will be worth it. Everything is worth it for the feeling of Emily in your arms.

When she pulls away, it’s too soon. You follow her mouth and she concedes and gives you a couple more slow kisses before she stops herself, resting her forehead against yours.

“I just want to say sorry for earlier.” She whispers into the safe space you’ve built. “You were right, I was scared when you got hurt. Dave’s already kicked my ass for my response, you won’t receive any disciplinary action.”

You nod slightly, her forehead moving against yours, “Thank you.”

“It won’t happen again.” She promises, sealing the words with a kiss to your lips.

“I know.” You kiss her again, but this time you break out into a yawn midway through. Your momentarily forgotten exhaustion, making itself known.

She melts against you, caressing your cheek. “Oh, you need to sleep. We can talk more tomorrow. I’m taking you out for dinner.”

You bite your lip to hide the smile threatening to take over your face, “A date?”

She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Yes, a date. But only if you sleep first.”

“Your wish is my command.” You can’t stop the grin from taking over your face anymore. You press a peck to her lips and lead her back towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” She agrees, eyes fluttering over your face as if she’s committing every aspect to memory. “Sleep well.”

“You too.”

She presses one last kiss to your lips before she opens the door and makes her exit. You close the door quietly behind her, sinking back into it and allowing the giggle to finally escape your mouth.

What the fuck had just happened.

Emily Prentiss kissed you.

Emily Prentiss has feelings for you.

You weren’t alone.

You bite your lip and push off the door, finally ready to get ready for bed and praying come morning that this would still be your reality.

taglist: @aburman03

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #criminal minds #season 12 #gn!reader #cm fic #fanfiction #kt writes #angst with a happy ending #history smothers us #not my gif

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lover-of-mine · 1 day ago

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Anna baby we got new stills!! I am very curious why so many of Buck's outfits have been brown. The flannel he's wearing in the loft??? Blue and red and brown??? I'm thinking they tell Buck Maddie is pregnant, and it gets Buck thinking about a family (adding to his already immense longing), add in the pictures on his fridge and he is so close to understanding what he wants! But anyway! What is with the brown????

Hello baby!! So, the brown. I was talking about the brown with @stagefoureddiediaz literally yesterday lol. But current theory is that they are playing with both the stability and growth attached to the color when put in a positive light and the sense of isolation when we put it in a negative light. Buck doesn't wear brown a lot pre-season 7, his neutral color is grey, but ever since he came out he has been in a grey/sepia scale. The only instances me and Kym could come up with at the top of our heads was when Chim kicks Buck out and he has to move back with Maddie and the grocery store fight.

It plays into movements in Buck's life he needs to figure out alone, in a sense. Only Buck can break his own patterns and using a color that's attached to both stability and growth, like who he is for Eddie in 710, and loneliness, the grocery store, is fun because only Buck can allow himself to grow, he needs to do this for himself

Brown was also very attached to Tommy, Buck hasn't worn any brighter colors, like he would do his blues and red in previous seasons, this season yet, except for his costume, and I think it also plays into the way Buck forces himself to be what his partner wants and fails to consider what chipping away pieces of himself will do to him, like the way Tommy doesn't know he doesn't like basketball or the way Buck never complained about the "Evan" thing or the way Buck didn't know Tommy is gay or was engaged before or all the tiny ways they showed us Buck and Tommy didn't really know each other. And that plays into the way Buck was dimming himself while trying to find himself in the relationship, while trying to make dating Tommy something transformative, especially because while doing that, he was negating parts of who he is.

The brown hoodie is the first time we are seeing Buck in plain brown too, he's usually in a pattern or a textured fabric, and the mopping around and the very obvious stress-baking on "faded" colors with Jee in a literal rainbow, probably leading Buck to talk to Maddie and Chim in the red and blue will be interesting if that's the correct sequence of events. Because it will allow Buck to start bringing that color back to his life.

He's back in his self-discovery blue and that red with Buck is attached to emotions, trying to get in the right direction when it comes to his feelings, like trying to let go of Abby, his speech about love, a few moments in 208, Buck, actually as a whole works for Buck to try and figure out his own feelings.

But he's not in the true red, so, as pointed out to me by Kym, it's almost as if he's locking himself. He's not ready to have the revelation yet, But he will be back in blue, that's a good step, he will probably work his way back to his blue, being in it when he's ready for Eddie.

I will taglist this one (interact with this post if you wanna get tagged)

@sparkedblaze @caw-salem @dreamofsomepiphany @100ceruleaneyes @linus-lucy @chaosqueery @gina-spike @chimchiminie98 @elvensorceress @singitforthegirls @dangerpronebuddie @182daysof @steadfastsaturnsrings @sparklespiff @inell @miles--to--go @jesuisici33 @wolfdeans @lunarsolar1 @joshwritesfics @glasscities @kejfeblintz @stagefoureddiediaz @mosaicstardust @eddiedisasterdiaz @hermioneindisguise @queerprincesseddiediaz @lookforanewangle @becausebuckley @lemotmo @thenainitaldisaster

@dingdongfries @angelcamael

#911 #i really need a tag for asks #911 spoilers #911 meta #911 speculation #maggie 💜

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milfhunter6698 · 2 days ago

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Star girl

Synopsis: You were a talented but underappreciated actress lands a dream role in a highly anticipated romance film directed by a well—respected filmmaker. Your cast opposite Victoria Neuman, an industry icon known for her powerful performances and magnetic screen presence. As you work together, unexpected feelings develop between you, you find yourselves drawn to each other in ways you didn’t expect.

Warnings: 18+ eventual smut, no use of (y/n), cursing, no describing reader’s appearance, explicit language, fluff, suggestive themes, a lot of angst, teasing, hollywood AU, slow burn, Acting, friends to lovers.

AN: Hello hellooo!! happy tuesday everyone, guess what? yep another Victoria Neuman fic because I ain’t gonna even lie and just say that I got over that crazy bitch, I’m missing her like crazy baddd. Anyway this is just something that’s been on my mind, heh… I dunno I mean who wouldn’t love a good Hollywood love storyline. It’s just something short, while I work on a few requests I’ve gotten, I’m gonna also be posting this on ao3 If you’re interested go check it out. Now as always have fun, and lmk what you think because I kind of have mixed feelings about this.

wc: 4.1k

You moved between tables at the cafe, balancing a tray loaded with coffee cups, sneakers squeaking faintly with each step. The place was buzzing with late-morning chatter, filled with the smell of fresh coffee and fried eggs. You’d perfected the art of pretending to be completely focused on your job, but every spare second, your mind wandered back to the idea of acting—your true passion, the career you were chasing even if you were currently only known as “the girl with the tray.”

On your break, you slumped into a corner booth with your phone, scrolling through casting calls, your eyes landing on headlines you’d read a dozen times. Your finger hovered over an audition listing when your phone suddenly vibrated. You barely recognized the number, but your manager’s name popped up on the screen.

“Hey, it’s really not a good time, I’m—”

“Sit down,” he interrupted, his voice breathless with excitement. “Are you sitting down?”

You raise an eyebrow glancing around. “Yeah, I’m sitting. What’s going on?”

“You know that big casting call I sent you on last week?” His voice was buzzing with excitement, a little smug.

“The one you said was a ‘long shot,’ right? Look don’t mess with me. You said they wouldn’t even look at—”

“They looked. And they loved you. You got the part.”

For a second, the noise in the cafe faded to nothing. You blinked, trying to make sure you’d heard him right.

“You’re not serious,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

“Dead serious,” he said. “This is the role. You’re going to be in a movie with Victoria Neuman. The Victoria Neuman.”

Your heart started to hammer. “Wait, Victoria Neuman? That Victoria Neuman? The one who—”

“The one who’s headlining the Oscars, the one whose face is on every billboard on Sunset Boulevard, yes. I told you it’s big.”

You gripped your phone so tightly your knuckles turned white. “But… how?”

Your manager laughed. “Because you’re good, that’s how. Look, they want to meet you this Saturday for lunch. The director wants to give you the rundown himself.”

You could barely process it. You’d spent so many nights pacing around your tiny apartment, rehearsing lines for auditions that led nowhere, wondering if you’d ever break through. And here it was, your shot.

“I swear… if you’re messing with me, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Trust me, kid. I’d never mess with you on this. So you better get your best outfit ready.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, a small, breathless sound. For the first time in months, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Saturday afternoon you stood outside an upscale restaurant, your heart thudding as you stared up at the polished glass doors. You’d spent nearly an hour choosing an outfit, finally settling on something simple—a black dress and a vintage jacket you’d found in a thrift shop. You tugged at the sleeves nervously, feeling a strange mix of excitement and intimidation. Your manager had reassured you repeatedly, but the idea of meeting with a famous director and talking about your role felt surreal.

Inside, your manager waved you over, standing beside a man with sharp, discerning eyes and a warm, easy smile. He was younger than you’d expected, dressed casually in a way that somehow made him look more important.

He greeted and you reached out, introducing yourself and trying not to let your nerves show. “Thank you so much for… I mean, this is just…”

He grinned, shaking your hand. “Take a breath. We’re all just people here, no need to be so formal. Grab a seat. Let’s talk.”

You slipped into the seat across from him, trying to play it cool as the waiter poured sparkling water into your glasses. He leaned back, studying you with a quiet intensity that made you feel both exposed and encouraged.

“So, I saw your audition tape,” he started. “You’ve got something—an authenticity that I want in this role.”

You couldn’t help but blush. “Thank you. I’m really honored you thought of me.”

“Now, I’m not going to lie,” he continued, “this project is demanding. The story centers on two women, past lovers who come from very different backgrounds, but they find solace and understanding in each other. It’s raw, emotional. We’re looking for chemistry, vulnerability. That’s why Victoria Neuman is the co-lead.”

At the mention of Victoria’s name, your eyes widened. You tried to hide your reaction, but he noticed, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah, the Victoria Neuman. She’s a big personality, but she’s focused. And demanding. Don’t be surprised if she challenges you—she does that with everyone.”

You took a deep breath. “I’ll… I’ll do my best.”

“Good,” He said, nodding approvingly. “I have a feeling you’ll do more than that.”

You spent the rest of the lunch discussing the film, the script, and his vision for your character. Your excitement grew with each detail, feeling a spark of confidence you hadn’t known you had. By the end of the meal, you couldn’t believe you were about to step into a project like this.

The morning of the table read was overcast, the gray sky adding to your nerves. You arrived at the studio early, clutching your script as you walked into the bustling room. People were milling around, flipping through scripts, chatting casually. Your heart thumped as you found your seat, glancing nervously around the table.

Just as you were trying to steady your breath, you heard a small hush ripple through the room. You looked up and felt your pulse quicken. Victoria Neuman had arrived.

She moved gracefully, exuding a quiet, confident presence. She was dressed simply, yet she looked every bit the star she was, her gaze sharp and focused. She walked over to the table, catching your eye for a brief moment before giving a polite nod.

Your breath hitched. Act normal, you reminded yourself, pretending your palms weren’t sweating. You managed a small smile in return, trying to look calm.

The director greeted everyone and launched into his vision for the film. “This isn’t just a love story. It’s about connection, about finding something real in the chaos. We want to capture those quiet, vulnerable moments, the ones that people don’t talk about but feel every day.”

When it was time for the read-through, you and Victoria shared your first scene together. You focused on your lines, but your heart was pounding as you read opposite Victoria. Her voice was smooth, effortlessly slipping into character, and her eyes stayed locked on you all throughout the scene, intensifying each line.

By the end of the scene, you could hardly breathe. She leaned back, nodding slightly, and then you offered a small, approving smile. It was just a flicker, but it felt like an acknowledgment—a silent promise that you belonged here, too.

After the session ended, you lingered at the edge of the room, replaying the moment in your mind. You were about to leave when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

Turning, you found yourself face-to-face with Victoria, your name escaping her lips softly. “Is it?” she asked, her voice calm but with an unmistakable warmth.

You nodded, trying not to let your voice shake. “Yes. I… I just wanted to say, I’m a huge fan of yours. I’ve watched all your films.”

She gave a soft laugh. “Thanks. I know it must be overwhelming, jumping into something like this. But you were great today.”

Your heart lifted. “Thank you. That really means a lot.”

She nodded, her eyes lingering on you just a moment longer than necessary. “I’ll see you at the next rehearsal.”

As she turned and walked away, you felt a flutter in your chest. You knew this role was going to be life-changing, but you hadn’t expected Victoria’s presence to affect you so deeply. For the first time, you wondered if this film might change your life in more ways than one.

Your apartment was a mess. Scripts were scattered across your small, worn coffee table, along with half-empty coffee cups and stacks of notes. You had highlighted every line, each margin filled with scrawled thoughts and questions. Late into the night, you practiced alone, your reflection in the mirror staring back with the intensity you hoped your character would convey.

The role wasn’t simple. Your character, Lauren, was a guarded, impulsive complex woman burdened by loss. She had loved deeply once but had lost it all, and as you read through the lines, you felt yourself peeling back her layers, finding the pain and resilience hidden beneath.

You practiced your lines over and over, speaking them softly, then with anger, trying to understand the character’s emotional range. You kept Lauren’s experiences in mind, dissecting every reaction and choice she’d made, wondering how you yourself would react in such moments. You hadn’t had much in life, but you knew about chasing dreams, about feeling that endless mix of hope and fear. There was so much of yourself in Lauren—and that scared you. You wanted to do this right, not only for yourself but for the chance you’d been given to stand on this stage.

You arrived on set early your first day, your nerves a steady thrum under the excitement. The studio was a blur of movement—crew members rolling carts stacked with equipment, actors adjusting their costumes, assistants buzzing around the director with notes and coffee cups. Cameras and lights stood like sentinels around the set, wires coiled across the floor in intricate patterns you had to carefully step over.

You spotted your director in the middle of it all, standing beside the cinematographer, discussing the shots for the day. His voice was calm yet energized as he gestured toward the mock-up of the first scene. This was where the magic was happening, the place you’d dreamed of being. And now, you were here, not as an extra or a bit part, but as one of the leads. The weight of that realization pressed down on you, but it was also exhilarating.

“Hello there! Good to see you,” he called, waving you over as he noticed you lingering at the edge of the set. “Ready for the big day?”

You smiled, hiding the nerves that knotted in your stomach. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good, good. Remember, this isn’t just about the lines. It’s about Lauren’s silence, her glances, her gestures. Don’t be afraid to let the camera see that,” He said, his eyes filled with encouragement.

You nodded. Feeling the director’s words sink in, you needed to live the character—not just act her. You weren’t sure if you would be able to pull it off, but you were at least ready to try.

The first few days on set went by in a haze of new faces and whispered directions. You and Victoria had only one brief exchange about your first scene together. She had approached you with a warm yet reserved smile.

“Hey, I thought maybe we could run through this scene together. Just to get a feel for each other’s rhythms,” she suggested, her tone calm and professional.

“Absolutely. I’d love that,” you replied, your heart racing. You kept your voice steady, but you couldn’t shake the nervous flutter you felt deep in your chest.

Victoria read the lines with such ease, her delivery flawless, yet subtly different each time as if experimenting with nuances. You watched her, trying to keep your focus, yet every word from her seemed to pull you in deeper.

As you wrapped up, she nodded approvingly. “You’re good. I can see why they’ve picked you.”

You flushed, stammering a quick thank-you, and then watched as she walked off, her steps graceful, her confidence effortless. Just keep it professional, You told yourself. But as the days passed, it became harder to ignore the warmth you felt whenever she looked at you, a lingering gaze that seemed to see more than just your role.

When the day came for your ever first scene, you arrived on set early, going through your lines one more time. The scene was intense—a reunion between Lauren and Helene, two people who had shared a complicated past and were bound by emotions neither of them could entirely let go. You had thought you were prepared, but now, with each beat of your heart, you felt a new nervousness you hadn’t anticipated.

As you walked on set, you saw Victoria standing at the other end of the room, speaking with the director, who animatedly explained his vision for the scene. She caught your gaze and gave you a nod, her usual professional demeanor in place, though something about her expression felt unreadable—guarded, maybe, as if she was bracing herself for what was to come.

He turned toward you, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Hey, come on over. Let’s get you in place. So, here’s the setup: Lauren is paying an unexpected visit to Helene at her office, and she’s there because… well, that’s up to you. She has her reasons, but the scene hinges on that ambiguity, the push-pull between them. Lauren is bold, maybe even a little reckless, but we need to feel that Helene is barely holding herself together.”

You took a steadying breath and nodded, your nerves slowly morphing into a focused determination. This was Lauren’s moment to push, to test the waters with Helene. And in a way, it felt a little like you yourself were testing something—feeling your way through the strange pull you’d somehow begun to feel around Victoria. You couldn’t explain it, but it was there, like an undercurrent humming just beneath the surface.

Your director called for quiet on set, and as the cameras rolled, you transformed. You were no longer you but Lauren, striding into Helene’s office with a calm confidence, a hint of mischief in your gaze as you found Helene at her desk, pouring over stacks of papers.

“Hello, old friend. Long time, no see,” you said, your voice low but carrying a hint of hesitation, as if unsure of the reunion.

Helene looked up, startled, and for a split second, the cool facade she wore slipped, allowing a flicker of surprise and maybe even a touch of longing. Then it was gone, replaced by her usual detached, slightly exasperated expression as she leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Lauren,” she said, her voice edged with a mix of wariness and familiarity. “Not that long. Maybe a year?”

You tensed, responding instinctively. “A year’s a long time when you’re left wondering.”

The words hung in the air, and the silence that followed was thick, charged. You could feel Victoria’s eyes on you, not just as Helene but as herself, watching you, assessing you.

You let a slow smile spread across your face, the kind that was both playful and just a bit dangerous. You crossed the room, closing the space between you until you were just close enough to lean down slightly, your gaze intent.

“What, I can’t just stop by for a friendly visit?” Lauren’s voice was light, teasing, but there was an unmistakable intensity in her eyes that made Helene shift, visibly uncomfortable yet rooted to the spot.

Helene rolled her eyes, but her hands, you noticed, clenched slightly on the arms of her chair. “Last I checked, we weren’t exactly on friendly terms.”

Your smile softened, and you tilted your head, a touch of vulnerability breaking through. “Maybe that’s something I wanted to change.”

For a long, charged moment, you held each other’s gaze, a silent conversation happening in the space between you. Helene’s jaw tightened as she looked away, a hint of pain flashing across her face.

But Lauren wasn’t one to let go that easily. She stepped closer, until she was close enough to reach out, to touch, though she didn’t. Her presence was all-consuming, and you could feel your own pulse quicken, blurring the line between yourself and Lauren.

“Come on, Helene,” Lauren murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know I hurt you. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about you… that I haven’t missed this.” She let the words hang, raw and intimate, before adding softly,

“Missed you.”

Helene’s cool facade cracked just slightly, a flash of pain and frustration in her eyes as she stood up staring back up at Lauren, her composure barely holding. “You don’t get to say that. Not after all this time.”

The line struck something deep within you as she spoke it, feeling Helene’s hurt and resentment like a living thing. But Lauren your character, ever defiant, only leaned in closer, her hand coming up to brace against the wall beside Helene, effectively trapping her.

“Tell me you don’t feel the same,” Lauren challenged, her voice a low, urgent whisper. The tension in the room thickened, and you felt the weight of Victoria’s gaze, a spark of something intense and undeniable in her eyes.

Helene hesitated, her resolve wavering, her breath catching as her gaze flickered from Lauren’s eyes to her lips, the charged air between them pulsing with all the words left unspoken. But just as the moment seemed poised to tip over into something more, the director called, “Cut!”

You snapped back to yourself, blinking as you released the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Your heart raced, your skin tingling from the lingering tension of the scene. You let your arm drop from the wall, stepping back to give Victoria space.

Victoria straightened, her expression unreadable as she adjusted her jacket, her gaze sweeping the set before finally settling on you. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—something that looked almost like… admiration? Or was it something else?

“That was intense,” you said, trying to keep your tone light as you offered a small, slightly self-conscious smile.

Victoria nodded, a faint smile playing at the edges of her lips. “You have a way of bringing out the worst in Lauren,” she replied, her tone laced with irony but also something warmer, softer. “It’s… refreshing.”

You laughed, a little relieved but also thrown off by the words. “Well, she’s complicated. Keeps me on my toes.”

Victoria tilted her head, studying you for a moment. “Complicated is good. Makes it more interesting.”

The look you exchanged held a spark, something you couldn’t quite name but was beginning to recognize more and more each time your eyes met. It was as if you were both playing a game, one where the rules were unspoken, yet unmistakably understood.

Before you could say anything else, your director clapped his hands, calling everyone’s attention for a quick break before the next setup. You caught one last look from Victoria before she turned away, feeling the remnants of the scene still thrumming in your veins.

As you headed back to your trailer, your mind swirled with a mix of emotions—excitement, nerves, and the undeniable pull you felt whenever you and Victoria shared the screen. You’d always thought the hardest part of acting was embodying someone else’s feelings, but now, for the first time, you wondered if maybe the hardest part was keeping your own at bay.

You rubbed your temples, fatigue and excitement mingling as you gathered your things in your trailer. The day had been intense, the charged energy between you and Victoria in that last scene still humming under your skin. Just as you were about to head out, you swung the door open—and nearly collided with Victoria, who stood in front of the trailer with her hand mid-air, ready to knock.

“Oh!” you stammered, stepping back in surprise. “I didn’t expect—”

She chuckled, lowering her hand. “Neither did I, apparently.” There was a slight pause as you stood there, your heart beating just a bit faster, the exhaustion from the day melting away in her presence.

“I was actually going to suggest grabbing a drink. Somewhere quiet to unwind after…” She gestured vaguely, but you knew exactly what she meant.

You blinked, caught off guard but strangely thrilled. “A drink sounds… perfect,” you said, a smile slowly spreading across your face.

You ended up at a dimly lit, tucked-away bar, the kind of place you would never have noticed on your own. Victoria seemed to know it well, however, leading you inside with the ease of someone who valued privacy.

You settled into a booth near the back, ordering drinks and sinking into the quiet atmosphere. For the first time all day, you were free of the cameras, the lines, the lingering tension of your roles. Here, you were just you and Victoria, sharing a drink like two colleagues winding down after work.

“So,” she began, raising an eyebrow over her glass. “How was your first day of intense romantic drama?”

You laughed, taking a sip of your drink. “I have to say, it was… exhilarating. But definitely a bit intimidating.” you glanced at her, a little more openly than you might have dared earlier. “You make it seem so effortless. I keep wondering if I’m doing it right.”

“Trust me, you’re doing it right.” Victoria leaned forward, her expression earnest. “Acting isn’t about ‘right’ or ‘wrong,’ anyway. It’s about trusting yourself. You get lost in the moment, and… well, you did that today.”

You felt your cheeks warm, feeling simultaneously grateful and a little self-conscious under her gaze. “Thanks. Coming from you, that actually means a lot.”

You fell into an easy rhythm, talking about the movie, then drifting into lighter topics—the absurdity of long filming days, the occasional mishaps on set. Victoria shared a story about an elaborate costume mishap during a period drama that left her frantically trying to fix her dress just seconds before a big shot. You laughed so hard you nearly spilled your drink.

“Is this your secret weapon?” you asked with a grin. “Getting everyone to laugh so they forget their lines?”

“Ah, you’ve caught me,” she replied, a playful glint in her eye. “It’s all part of my master plan. Throw them off just enough so I can look that much better.”

You chuckled, and then, in a moment of pure spontaneity, you blurted, “Well, I don’t have your number. So if you ever need a partner in crime… or just someone to grab a drink with…”

Victoria’s eyebrows rose, a hint of mischief in her smile. “Is that your idea of subtle? Or is that just how you are with women?”

You felt your cheeks go warm again, though you grinned, refusing to back down. “Maybe a bit of both.”

She held your gaze for a beat longer than necessary before reaching for her phone. She tapped a few times, and your phone buzzed in your bag. “There. Now you have my number,” she said, her tone playful, yet her eyes held a trace of something deeper. “Just… don’t go spreading it around. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Oh, wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, matching her teasing tone.

You finished your drinks, lingering for a few more quiet moments before you finally decided to head home. Outside the bar, you shared a quick, almost shy goodbye, both of you staying just a bit longer than needed. You watched as she disappeared down the street, a strange blend of exhilaration and confusion swirling inside you.

When you finally returned to your small apartment, you lied awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The day’s events replayed in your mind, your thoughts wandering from your intense scene to the quiet, easy comfort of the bar. Every moment with her felt like an uncharted path you were just beginning to explore.

A smile crept onto your face as you thought of her teasing remarks, her gaze, the effortless way she seemed to fill every space she entered. You couldn’t quite pin down what was happening between you, only that something had started, and you were more than ready to see where it would lead.

#lgbtq #the boys #victoria neuman #victoria neuman x reader #victoria neuman x you #fluff #au

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razorblade180 · 2 days ago

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Built to Break

Trigger warning: Torture and dark themes

Continuation of this<-

In life, it’s said all actions cause a reaction; consequences that could be seen while others remained elusive until the final moment. Mona never found herself to be an elusive figure, yet as she stared into the widened, cold gaze of her mother, Mona knew immediately that she had been as poised as her hidden dagger.

“Talk?” Her mother said with a dry venom. “The hell do we have to talk about? Untie me!”

“Wow. Not even gonna ask about dad? Then again, why would you? He couldn’t even bother to sober up

enough to see you choking on smoke. Or maybe he simply didn’t care?” Mona picked up her knife, causally spinning it. “Anyways, he’s dead now.”

“Did I ask?”

“No, but I doubt you understand how. You were never that fucking bright.”

“You killed him.” Her eyes narrowed. She did her best to move her arms but the ropes wouldn’t allow it. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. You’ve always been an opportunistic rat.”

“Says the woman who whored out her own daughters. You’re only half right by the way. An opportunistic rat would’ve used the blaze to commit a crime like murder or abduction.”

“And what the hell would you call all of this?”

“Simple, it was planned. After all, I am the one who started the fire.”

Mona’s mother went stiff, her blood running cold as the girl flashed a horrific grin that found this situation marvelous. Mona finally stood up and began circling around the chair.

“That’s right. It was all me. Took awhile to get that much Dust but hey, it was worth the sight. Although I should’ve guessed dad would simply remain drunk off his own ass in that chair of his. It honestly looked like he wanted to go. I mean being with you is practically being de-”

Tuh!

A lob of spit hit Mona right in the face. Her eyes darted towards her mother who was now seething. Mona ran her left hand across where the spit landed then flicked it back at the sender.

“Rude. I’m talking.” She stopped right in front of the chair and squatted real low, her gaze fixated on the anger directed towards her. “You’re forgetting your own rule. I thought we were supposed to be accommodating to those holding the power?”

Without warning, Mona’s knife found a new home in the woman’s right thigh. Before she could even yell, Mona gripped her jaw like a vice and yanked her close enough to bite.

“Yell and I will drag the knife down and pop out your knee.” She pushed her mother away and stood back up. A strained chuckle left her throat as she shook herself off. “Wooo! Hehe, got a little real there for a second. Damn, still know how to get under my skin I guess.”

“Th-The hell do you want? The fuck is this all about!?” Her voice trembled as she held back the pain.

“Finally getting emotional are we? The stone cold bitch attitude was never for you anyway. Don’t get me wrong; you’re definitely cold and a bitch. The last thing you’ll ever be is stone though. No, you’ve always been brittle. Not to mention stupid. You can’t guess why I’m here? Are you serious? If we’re playing that game then fine, I can play. So then, mother, aren’t you going to ask me if my dear little sister survived the fire?”

“Oh you can not be serious?” Rage returned. “All this for Amber? Last time I checked, you didn’t give a rat's ass about her when you ran away! Now you wanna care?! FUCK Y-”

Another knife flew through the air and found a home in the woman’s left shoulder.

“Gah! Aaagh!”

Mona put her right leg on the chair and leaned forward, looking down on her mother’s writhing face. “You really have to learn to mind your tone.” She pushed it in deeper, letting her mother’s screams echo through the metal pillars until she was sure her knife hit bone. Mona yanked the blade in her mom’s leg out and took a few steps back again to watch.

Blood now stained burnt clothes covered in ash. The pathetic excuse for a person was coughing on her own spit as she gasped in the brief agony inflicted on her body, which only prolonged the pain.

Mona rolled her eyes. “Look at you, practically drooling. What, forget how to swallow? You sure as hell made certain I didn’t. How many personal lessons did you give Amber and I? They were always so much more brutal than the real deal. How you managed that, I’ll never know.”

“So it’s all about revenge?” Her lungs wheeze as she took a sharp breath before coughing again. “Gonna do everything I ever taught you eh?”

“Fuck no. If anybody wanted your body then maybe your hands wouldn’t have been busy on us and taking lien from your old clients in exchange for fresh blood. Must’ve been a dream come true. Vacuo’s most known whore was finally free, or maybe it pissed you off that after getting pregnant from a nobody, you became one too? One child robbed you off all your worth, and apparently your looks. Guess I was born a thief.”

“You are lucky to be born at all!”

“Am I though? Should I be grateful that I have your hair? Eyes that people can’t get enough of? You’d sell those too if it was worth the cost.”

“Oh cry me river.” She growled. “You’ve been away from me for years now and all you get up to is stealing and choosing when to choke on a dick for your own profit! Don’t act like you’re torn up about it.”

Mona spun the tip of her knife on her finger. “True enough I guess. Not like there were many options I could think of at…how old was I? Eh, as if it matters. I’d probably remember if you ever sent me to school, or taught me anything that didn’t involve submitting. All that money you made off of me and nothing to show for it. What was I saying again? Oh right, I was gutter trash who only knew two ways to make money well. No fucking shit I used it.”

“Then you understand exactly where I’m-”

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m still talking, and that sentence sounded dangerously close to hurting your good leg.”

Mona threw the knife right between both legs. She walked over and startled her mother, pulling the knife out in the process. “You know…if kids really caused you so much trouble in your life, I can help make sure you never have them again.”

The blade tore away a sliver of the burnt shirt around her abdomen. Panic fought its way into her brain as Mona’s cold eyes told her that wasn’t a joke.

“I’m waiting for an answer.” Mona said calmly.

“N-No.”

“No, what?”

Tears welled up. “No ma’am.”

“Heh, good girl. I guess you do remember how to act.” Mona brought the knife up to catch her mother’s tears. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry. It’s pretty ugly. Maybe that’s why those idiots didn’t care much when Amber wept.”

“Wh-What have you heard?”

“Nothing really. Just that you were strapped for money again so you did what you always do. As long as the price is high enough, anyone is an option. How much?”

“…I-”

“How much?”

“10,000 lien! They paid 10,000 lien!”

“That’s all it took for you to hand Amber to two huntsmen so inept they couldn’t even handle a starving teenager fending them off without killing her. I didn’t even bother asking them what set her off, or if she cried. Let’s be real, we both know she did.”

“You found them?”

“Did you think foreign huntsman could kill a girl and Ruby Rose wouldn’t be all over it. Now that’s a mother. Had those two in a cell immediately and the knees made the rounds, which I’m guessing is how you heard that 10,000 lien had cost you everything. You ask why I care? Amber was nothing like me and you knew that.

Mona got up and kicked the chair, shattering it with ease and causing her mother to fall down onto the cold, sandy and metal flooring. The chains restringing her to the chair were now useless, bot the set personally bounding her legs. Mona attached her wrists together and put the link on a hook while her mother groaned. Mona took back her second knife to inflict more pain before walking over to a metal beam with a button she pressed. The hook rose, dragging a body up with it until her toes grazed the ground.

“Agh! Please, enough! I get it! You’re pissed! I fucked up!”

“Your entire life is a fuck up, and I don’t remember saying I was pissed off. You’ve done so much to me that I think I’m full circle on it. After all, you did teach me one thing about myself you never intended.”

“I…I did?” She huffed, twitching as Mona got close again.

“Put people under enough stress, and you see what they’re made of; you can see how they break. I learned long ago I was made to be broken. To be put back together as needed and torn down if need be. That’s why I don’t mind how my life has shaped out to be. It’s why I cared to come after you. I don’t give up a fuck about you! Amber however, you broke her even before I even ran away and you knew it. She stopped speaking, thinking, being anything. Amber was basically a doll. How was I supposed to take her away with me? I had no shelter. Everyone knew who we belonged to! Mother fucker, I’VE ALWAYS CARED!” Mona hissed, her eyes stinging. “You made it impossible to leave with her! Like you said, I kept doing what you taught me cause I had nowhere to go, and Amber was never built to take that life! You took my sister and left behind the pieces. Now those don’t even exist anymore and I’m left falling apart again because maybe I should’ve ran off with her anyways?! Hehe haha! It’s so STUPID! You do everything wrong and yet I’m the one feeling like a fuck up? I can barely keep down my dinner.”

Mona’s head buzzed, causing her to hold it in discomfort. She really felt like she might vomit. Was it rage, or guilt? She didn’t know or care. She just knew what she always did. “This is such bullshit.”

Her mother had given up hope of trying to escape. All her cuts had been to cause pain and bleed, but even she could tell none of them were fatal. “O-Okay. Okay, I- I’m sorry. You made your point. Just turn me in already and I’ll confess to everything.” She pleaded.

Mona’s eyes looked at the woman with a burning indifference. “Even now, you barely pay attention. Do you think you’re getting out of this before breaking? I should at least give it my all. Just like you did for us.” She spun her knives. “Every place they left a mark, I’m going to put on you. Hold out until then.”

Panic came back with a single step forward. Tears mixed with ash, sweat, grime as her heart pounded. She practically jumped out of her skin as Mona held her face still.

“I’ll keep them shallow. Those hurt the worst.” Mona slid the blade across her right cheek, drawing blood. “I thought I told you crying made you ugly. For once, you are going to follow my instructions to the letter. Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes!” She sniffed, terrified of her own creation. “I’ll do whatever you say. Then-then I go, right?”

“Haha, as long as you listen then yes, I will let you go.” Mona took a step back and smiled, watching her mother smile back faintly. “Although…I don’t think I heard a ma’am after that, yes. Someone isn’t a good rule follower.”

And just like that, light faded from the woman’s eyes, matching her daughter’s. “N..No.” tears ran down in full force. “I-I’m sorry! I’M SORRY!” Mona got closer…

“And now you’re yelling and crying again. That’s three strikes already. Pfft, oh well. It’s like you told me once, some people only learn after the punishment. Try not to see dad too soon for me. Speaking of seeing…” Mona held her mother’s eyes open. “Might as well start here.”

“St-STOP! STAAAAAHHHHP!”

#rwby #rwby au #rwbabies #mona paulo furem #rwby rosebud

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efingart · 2 days ago

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Just an idea for @writeforfandoms on her birthday. HBD Jen 💙 I can't give you Frank irl but I can write about it.

Frank Woods x Reader

Shit.

It was all wrong. You stared at the file in your hands in disbelief, turning over the pages almost hoping their contents would somehow change. Somehow the documents would magically right themselves. But of course, they didn’t. It was there in permanent black ink. Whoever was supposed to fill this out had done it all wrong. You flipped to the last page to inspect the signature. It was the end of the day but maybe you could catch whoever it was before this became your problem.

Martha. Of course.

Martha was on vacation for the next week. Frustrated you dropped the folder on your desk, then you rummaged through your desk drawer for a new blank form. You flipped through the file again. At least all the information you needed looked to be there. It would take some time to interpret Martha’s chicken scratches, but it’s not like you were doing anything that evening anyway.

Still, you felt yourself struggling to fight the aggravation rising in you and decided to take a walk to cool down before getting started untangling this mess. When you stepped outside you started to feel a little better. At the very least it was a sunny afternoon. And at the very least you could stop and get food from your favorite restaurant on the way home.

As you rounded the corner and the building entrance came back into view you could feel the aggravation growing inside you once again. Instead of heading back in you took a moment to lean against the building and enjoy the sun as you were certain you’d be leaving work when it was already dark.

You closed your eyes and muttered, “Happy birthday to me.”

Then, resolving to head back to work, you pushed off the wall but the sound of a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Hey, Sunshine, you still here?”

The nickname and the gravelly voice could mean only one person. Woods- no you’re supposed to call him Frank now- Frank was leaning against the wall only a few feet away smoking a cigarette. You feel your irritation wash away, it was hard to be annoyed with Frank around. Unless your annoyance stemmed from him. Which it did on occasion. Most of the time he was fun to talk to. And it didn’t hurt that he was good-looking. You gave him a soft smile. A fading bruise wrapped around his cheekbone which only seemed to enhance his looks.

“Yeah, got some work to finish up,” You said with a shrug.

He nodded and took a drag from his cigarette. Apparently, he had nothing to say to that.

“I didn’t know you were back,” You said, suddenly you were in even less of a hurry to get to work.

“Just got in today,” He said. He placed his cigarette in his mouth letting it dangle on his lips. As he moved his hand back to his side you noted broken skin around his knuckles.

You didn’t know exactly what he did, but between the rumors and the injuries you could make an educated guess.

“Rough assignment?” You asked.

Frank turned over his hand to look at his knuckles.

“Not as bad as it looks,” He said. The cigarette bobbed up and down as he spoke. You weren’t sure if he was playing tough or if he meant it. “Anyway, it’s better than paperwork.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Do I need to talk to someone for you? Just point me in their direction,” He winked.

“I can handle myself thank you very much,” You said.

“Don’t I know it,” He says in response. You could hear the humor in his voice.

“Are you heading out?”

He tossed his cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his boot. He stretched his arms out to the sides and pushed out his chest.

It’s not like you had forgotten how broad he was, but you couldn’t say you minded the visual reminder. Frank wasn’t a meathead, but even under all those layers he wore, you could tell he was strong. He had to be.

“Yeah, better get out of here before Hudson decides he needs to talk to me about something. That guy calls briefings for briefings.”

You let out a little laugh.

He grinned at you and then glanced over his shoulder, up at the building, his eyes seem to travel to the very top before they landed on you again. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. On the surface, it seemed like Frank was an open book, but the more you got to talk to him the more you realized he held back.

“Don’t let ‘em get you down,” He said finally, his tone distant.

You weren’t exactly sure what he meant, but he had already turned to walk towards his motorcycle. You’d have rather watched him than go back inside, but you knew if he caught you looking you knew you’d never hear the end of it.

——-

The good thing about working late was that the building never seemed to be empty. There were always people around burning the candle at both ends. So even after the sun went down and the world outside turned black you still heard the sounds of people working. The occasional cough, or click of shoes on tile as someone walked back and forth to the coffee maker. The tearing of packaged goods bought from the vending machine. Even outside you heard the sound of a motorcycle driving by.

You thought of Frank, of course.

Okay so maybe you had a little bit of a crush on him. What was so wrong with that?

You sighed and then checked your watch. It was later than you realized. And only half the report had been completed. You sighed again and stretched your arms over your head. Your back gave a satisfying crack.

Opening a desk drawer you dug around for some change as you resigned yourself to a vending machine birthday dinner.

At least the vending machine had your favorite treats in stock. And the machine even spat out an extra candy bar. Lucky. At least something had gone right with your day. You ate one of the candy bars as you slowly walked back to your office. Tossing the wrapper in a bin just outside the door you stopped in your tracks just at the threshold.

Frank was sitting on a chair next to your desk. He must have grabbed it from the neighboring workstation. He turned in his seat to look at the door.

“Hey Sunshine, almost thought you left,” He said. He gestured to a brown paper bag on your desk. “Brought you this. Think I got the order right.”

Then he stood up and opened the bag himself. He began removing small takeout containers and placing them along the side of your desk. The takeout containers seemed endless, way too much food for one person.

You stared at him from the doorway, stunned.

“And you know-” He held another container in a purple box. You recognized the label of a nearby bakery on it. “Can’t forget the cake,” Frank said. He glanced over his shoulder at you and his grin faltered.

He quickly looked away, his unfocused gaze settled around the desk.

Was his face turning red?

It was hard to tell with the bruise on his cheek.

“I uh- yeah it’s ok, I should have asked,” Frank said. He grabbed a few containers and placed them in the bag. It was then that you realized you should step forward. You touched the back of his hand to stop him.

“No, I-” You started to say as you looked at all the food he bought. “How did you know?”

“You were muttering something under your breath about it,” He said with an awkward chuckle. “When you said you were working late- I just thought- Didn’t mean to assume anything-”

“No, it’s nice!” You said recovering quickly. Then you laughed. “You think I can eat all this?”

He scratched the back of his head.

“Guess I, thought I’d join you.”

You smiled warmly at him. And after a moment he grinned back. You moved to help him with the containers but he waved you off gesturing for you to take a seat.

He pulled the purple box out again and opened it to reveal a large beautifully decorated slice of birthday cake.

“Hang on,” He said. He stuck a blue candle in the cake and lit it expertly with his lighter.

“Cake first?” You asked.

“Why not? It’s your birthday.”

#call of duty #frank woods #black ops #frank woods x reader

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rikosseen · 3 days ago

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Taehoon Seong x Reader: Day trip

Anon request

Taehoon really thought that amongst the most annoying people he’s ever known, Hobin was unmatchable. However, as he’s sitting at the back of the van with you sleeping soundly on his shoulder, Dabin is mockingly making kissy faces while Minji is suppressing her giggles. Worse still, the dads are completely indifferent to the spectacle—in fact, they’re encouraging Dabin. And Taehoon swears he sees his own old man grinning like a monster.

Fuck.

What he wants to do more than anything right now, is to kick their smug faces. But he can’t really do that- with you next to him, and with how cramped it is.

Dabin is cackling at how Taehoon’s eyes are bulging out of his eye sockets, and she can’t help feeling amused when he stiffens as you stir in your sleep.

The campsite overlooks a valley of mountains, and in usual circumstances, the view would have been enough to relax just about anyone. That’s unfortunately not the case for Taehoon. Even on a day where he’s meant to be enjoying himself, the man can feel nothing but irritation and anger. Why did he agree to tag along on this trip again? Who’s dumb ass thought this was a good idea?

Fuck. That’s right. You. You did.

Taehoon watches you in betrayal as Dabin and Minji get all up in your personal space, giggling about who knows what. You’re playfully slapping them, and pinching their cheeks, snickering along.

That should be me.

The girls are doing nothing to help. He’s the only one carrying wood. He’s the only one putting up the tents.

Lazy bastards. -Thoughts not directed toward you, of course.

As Taehoon slams the wood he’s been carrying on the ground, Dabin catches his eye, and a devilish smirk forms on her lips. She’s tugging you at the waist while putting up her middle finger. Couldn’t be you, she mouths.

And a vein pulses on Taehoon’s face. He brushes his hands, and begins stomping toward you three. When he reaches where you are, he slaps Dabin away from you, protectively pulling you by his side. Dabin, being the absolute unit that she is, shoves Taehoon aside, and takes your free arm. The two begin to banter, playing tug of war, and you swear your arm is about to rip off.

“How dare you push a woman?!” Dabin snaps.

“Equal rights, equal fights, bitch,” Taehoon sneers.

“You think you own her? Asshole”

“I didn’t say that, dipshit.”

“This shit’s never gonna happen. Me and them would make a better couple anyway,” Dabin is furiously grasping onto Taehoon’s expression like it’s her only source of entertainment.

“What the fuck did you say?”

Before they can continue arguing, Minji steps in to pull you away from the two.

“C’mon, stop riling him up,” she says, giving Dabin a disapproving look.

Later that night, as everyone gathers around the campfire to toast marshmallows, Taehoon finally musters the courage to step away and retrieve a gift he’s been saving for you all day, despite his nervousness that you might not like it. But when he returns, he finds Dabin has taken his spot, wrapping her arms around you with a triumphant grin. She sees him approaching and sticks her tongue out mockingly.

This bitch.

#lookism #lookism x reader #viral hit x reader #viral hit taehoon #taehoon seong #taehoon x reader

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bijouxcarys · 1 day ago

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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.”

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