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Matt Miller X Reader: Love MeTrembling before the mercy of the Saints, Matt wonders if this is the end. For all he’s worth, he refuses to beg to be pardoned as the Saints’ leader hovers over him.
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Hands on her hips, Esfir Volkmann glares cruelly into the pitiful, blue irises of the former Deckers’ leader.
“Where is he?” demands Esfir, her platinum-blonde hair cascading down her back.
“U-um, who do you mean?” chokes out Matt meekly.
Her frown turns sour as the Boss bends down to look Matt in the eye. Deep purple eyes penetrate into his skull and he finds he’s unable to look away.
“I don’t have time for this, Miller,” she growls an inch from his face.
“I don’t know, I swear!” blurts out Matt in despair.
Wearing the Saints’ purple jacket over a white undershirt, the Boss crosses her arms, obviously not satisfied with his answer.
“Do you play me for a fool, Matt?” she asks, her Russian accent seeping through.