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latenightdaydreams · 7 months ago

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Homecoming!König x Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, period sex, oral, fingering, p in v

1.0k word count

🏡

Nine months. That’s how long it’s been since König left for deployment. Now he is sitting in his SUV driving 20 mph over the speed limit to get back home to you. The distance from the airport to your shared home past city limits seems too far away. Only the thought of seeing that beautiful face and kissing those soft lips again helps keep him calm. He’s starving for your touch, desperate for it.

The car comes to a hard stop as he pulls into the driveway. In a rush, he quickly grabs his bags from the back and speed walks to the front door. The door opens, and he takes a deep breath; the air smells like you. He can already feel his cock getting hard. His bags drop to the floor as he strips off his sniper hood and tosses it onto the coffee table while he walks through the house looking for you.

“Y/n?” He calls out, too eager to be calm.

König walks to the kitchen and sees you through the window tending to your garden wearing only a tiny yellow sundress. Your thighs and lower ass showing as you bend over; he is nearly drooling at this point. He opens the door and runs across the yard to get to you.

With your headphones in, you don’t realize that König is back. The line of work he is in, he can never give you his homecoming date. One moment you’re pressing on dirt and the next you're being lifted into the air. A small scream leaves your lips until you see the red bracelet, König.

He is already planting kisses anywhere he can, the back of your neck and down your back as he mumbles in German about how much he’s missed the way your body feels in his embrace. Your headphones fall out as König walks you into the house. A small laugh leaves your lips.

“Kö!”

“Y/n, I need you. I need you, baby.” His voice is soft and needy as he carries you up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

“I’m on my period.”

König places you on the bed, accidentally a little too rough. His hands pull at the hem of your dress and pull it off of your body, completely ignoring your comment of being on your period. All he cares about is reuniting with you, the love of his life, in the most intimate way that he can.

Once your bra is unfastened, he tosses it on the floor, pushing you back and planting wet, sloppy, open mouth kisses on your breasts as he cups them in his hand. He sucks on your nipples, tugging lightly before moving his kisses to your lips. A deep groan leaves his lips as he tastes your lips. His tongue pushes past your lips and dominates your mouth, swirling his tongue around yours as his hands move to pull your panties down.

“Period.” Your voice is muffled from his mouth on yours as you reach out to stop him.

König pulls back to gaze into your eyes. He lightly shakes his head, a small smirk on his lips. “I’ve been covered in dirt and blood for the last almost year.” His hands continue to pull down your underwear. “I’m not going to let a little period blood get in my way.”

His lips meet you once again before pulling back and undressing you completely. What a beautiful sight your fuzzy plump pussy is to him. His eyes travel following the white string that dangles from you. He pulls his shirt off of his body, revealing fresh bruises and scars forming.

A moan leaves you as you feel König’s tongue flick quickly on your clit before taking big laps over your folds. He sucks on them, devouring you completely. Your fingers comb through his graying hair as your legs tremble from the intense pleasure pulsing throughout your whole being.

König reaches for the white string as he continues to eat you out and gently pulls your tampon out, casually tossing it on to his dirty shirt. A wave of embarrassment flushes over you, did he really just do that? Quickly, embarrassment turns into desire as he shoves two of his thick fingers inside of your pussy.

“So tight.” He whispers mostly to himself as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, crimson red slowly dripping down his pale white skin as his mouth goes back to pleasuring you.

König rests his head on your plush thigh as his tongue circles your clit in a languid manner letting his fingers get you ready for his cock. His eyes roam over your body until he can’t take anymore. He withdraws his fingers, wiping off the blood on his pants before removing them. You’ve never seen König so feral before.

The musk coming from his body is strong, he hasn’t showered in a little over 24 hours. It isn’t something you mind. If anything, you love the way his sweaty musky body smells. His natural pheromones only cause your aching pussy to grow more excited.

His body moves over yours, causing the bed to sink slightly as he spreads your legs apart and pushes them back. König looks down as his cock rests against your shiny folds. He rolls his hips, taking his time before the tip of his cock meets your entrance.

König leans forward and rests his arms on either side of your head, boxing you in. He watches your face as he pushes forward, slipping his cock in deeper. The gummy texture of your walls mixed with the additional wetness of your period blood causes him to let out a deep moan. His hips press forward until almost every inch of his ten-inch cock is inside of you, giving you anything your tiny pussy can handle.

“Mein Gott.” His voice quivers with pleasure.

Nine months he went without feeling this perfect little cunt. His balls are heavy, desperate to release deep inside of you. He leans down, licking your jawline up to your lips before planting a needy kiss on your lips. He’s finally home.

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princepotionsss · 2 months ago

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poly! tf141 hybrids x reader au 2/?

WARNINGS: language, brief (not descriptive) SA , reader is afab

(Pls be nice I’m not very good at writing, not proofread)

It has been six months since you got your first hybrid, a mastiff named John Price. The two of you were inseparable. Everything was perfect. You didn’t think about getting another hybrid because why? Your hybrid was everything you ever needed, John was everything you ever needed.

That was until you were coming home late from a friend’s birthday party in the city and had to park two blocks away from the restaurant. You insisted to John that he needn’t come, that you’d be fine. You were a big girl who never had any problems before. So you went alone.

Walking the cold streets of the city at night felt like an adventure you never really went on. Distant sound of cars honking and laughter could be heard. Saying goodbye to your friends you left the restaurant and headed towards your car which was parked on a side street so blocks away. Not terrible but could be better.

As you walked the streets got quieter and a bit more sketchy. Building lights flickered and the street just felt eerie. Coming upon an alley a group of men who were standing around smoking a cigarette eyed you. Slightly panicked you started to walk faster because you were so close to your car, you could see it!

Too afraid to look back you kept your eyes ahead and your pace fast until you felt a cold arm grab you. Yanked into the alley you were now surrounded by three strange men who all smelled like cat piss and smoke.

You tried to push away only to find yourself being pushed hard against the dirty brick wall, your white petty coat now ruined.

Your hands are held down as you feel a hand snake to your thigh and the now regretful short skirt that John picked out for you. John! You thought about your hybrid and how you needed him.

Crying out you yell for help. Tears prick your eyes as a dirty hand clamps over your mouth as the men yell and more hands roam your body.

Muffled cries and thrashing came but you were stuck in place against your will. Suddenly a giant crash came from deeper in the alley and a figure stalked its way up. It was a hybrid, a German shepherd to be exact. The hybrid wore a skull ski mask and had tattered clothes. The hybrid was covered in tattoos and dirty.

“Get off her.” The hybrid growled in a deep gruff British accent. The men laughed and told him to fuck off. Your cries still muffled by the hand over your mouth. Your lipstick was definitely now smeared even though that was the least of your current problems.

The hybrid growled and grabbed the men attacking them like a wild animal. You fell to the grown crying holding your self tightly. The three men ran out of the alley to get away leaving you and the animalistic raged hybrid.

The hybrid stopped growling and sighed before walking over to you. You sat on the ground crying and now shaking. Your fingers gripped your skirt trying to keep it down.

The hybrid gently grabbed your arm and hoisted you to your feet “you alright?” The thick gruff accent asked you making you feel small. You glanced up at him, the ski mask with a skull on it covering his face still but blood seeped through it and down his neck.

“You’re bleeding.” Is all you mumbled out shaking. The German Shepard hybrid scoffed and wiped his face with the hand of hand. “Not mine.” His blue eyes looked deeply into yours, the harshness had gone but still it was unsettling to be so close.

“Now where you heading?” He asked gruff as ever, his tone almost alluding to being annoyed.

“M-my car, the black one.” You shakily pointed to the back suv just up the street. The hybrid nodded and led you to the car his grip on your arm not harsh but not letting go. The hybrids ears were on point alert and his tail was dangling in between his legs as he walked next to you. The fluffy pointed ears twitched at every sound, his piercing blue eyes scanned the area for any danger.

As you got to your car you pulled your keys out of your pocket and unlocked the suv.

Bright lights and an unlocking sound were heard as the scary looking hybrid opened your car door for you.

You went to get in but paused. Your eyes scanned him. He was tall, scary and still had blood seeping from his mask down his neck. His clothes were tattered and dirty along with his tattooed covered arms.

“Get in little bird.” He huffed annoyed but you didn’t listen. Your heart was beating a mile a minute and guilt was seeping in. You couldn’t just leave him.

“What about you?” You ask in a soft quiet voice, not wanting to upset the hybrid. He looked down and his ears flickered an emotion you couldn’t read. His blue eyes stared deeply at you.

“Where will you go? Those guys could report you and-“ you started to ramble “just get in the fucking car.” He swore his eyes almost testing your sincerity.

“No!” You said a bit louder. “You, I’m not leaving you on the streets to get caught and euthanized.” You crossed your arms firmly. The hybrids ears dickered flat for a second before he let out a deep growl. “You have another hybrid, I can smell him.” He started to argue. “So? He won’t mind, get in my car. Your death would be on me.” You say firmly but your voice low. The guilt had already set in.

You could imagine hybrid control grabbing him and him fighting back but sadly losing. Then being euthanized for being aggressive. The thought sent a chill down your spine.

The hybrid growled but went around an got in the car. His ears were pinned flat annoyed and on edge as he stared at you to get in the car.

“Let’s bloody go then little bird.” He scoffed.

It was a miracle you both made it to your house in one piece the way you were driving. The adrenaline finally wore off and you were exhausted. You felt dirty and wanted nothing more to go shower and curl up into John’s arms.

Pulling into your driveway you hear the hybrid next to you release a sigh “thank fuck.” You hear him mutter aggravated. If you weren’t shaky you would have laughed. You got out of the car slightly stumbling and you call for John. His name escapes your lips in a small cry.

You walk to the house the other hybrid walking behind you. “John!” You cry out again and you try and unlock the door. The door opens before you can finish and John steps out into the cold night encapsulating you into his arms . His eyes are trained on the hybrid behind you, his tail and ears on guard.

You crumple into his arms crying as you retell what happened “and I couldn’t let him die!” You dramatically sob into your hybrids chest as his large hands just rub your back and shoulders. “Sweetheart he wouldn’t have died.” John say gruffly taking in the homeless hybrid who was caked in dry blood.

“I wasn’t going to fight her.” Is all the other hybrid said with a scoff. You ignored both in your shaking “you don’t know that!” You pout with tears.

“Alright alright.” John sighed in a low deep tone as he gently wiped your tears. “He can stay the bloody night.”

The two hybrids stared at each other as you took a deep breath trying to calm down.

“What’s your name?” You hiccup as you walk into the house, the two hybrids following you. The new hybrid stood hesitant and alert in the doorway as the door was closed.

“Ghost.” The hybrid said on defense. You sniffled as you nodded. You told him your name. “And this is John.” You introduce your hybrid to the wild one.

The two just looked at each other having a silent conversation. The silence was eerie and uncomfortable. You cleared your throat. “Go get him clothes sweetheart, I’ll show him to the guest room.” John instructed and you nodded.

As you returned from upstairs with a pair of fresh clothes for Ghost you gently handed them to him. Johnny stood next to you watching intensely.

Ghost grabbed the clothes and retreated into the guest room closing it without even a thank you. You twiddled nervously and looked up to John who just scoffed rolling his eyes as his hands found your waist.

“Come let’s get you a bath yeah?” John guided you to your shared bathroom.

What an insane night.

#tf 141 #poly!cod x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #hybrid au #hybrid #john price x reader #tf 141 x reader

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littlemissclandestine · 3 months ago

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ASK: ahhh i’m obsessed w ur adler headcanons!! pretty pretty plsss could we have more soft!adler headcanons? or maybe a few headcanons for how adler might react to realising he’s slowly falling for bell!reader before they discover the brainwash twist?? 🥺👉👈 either way just wanna express my appreciation for how you characterise him!! <3

Author's Note: Tehe back at it idk. This was an ask I got months ago but just had incredibly bad writer's and art block. Trying to get those creative juices flowing again! Thank you so much for the ask and the kind comments anon. I really really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy! <3 (your ask disappeared after i put it into Tumblr drafts??)

More Soft!Adler Headcanons:

In the morning before work, Russell wakes up a little earlier than you to spend some more time on his appearance. You see him shaving his few day old stubble and decide to help him out, taking the razor. He’d study your facial expression as you concentrate on going round each jagged edge of his scar, making sure to not cut him. His blue eyes tracing every little mark on your face, absolutely in awe of how beautiful you are even when you furrow your brows and he’d gently push a strand or two of hair out the way that had fallen over your eye. As you rinse the blade under the tap, he’d grab your chin and peck your lips, getting the taste of shaving foam in your mouth and you two would laugh about it.

I can imagine in Winter, Russell and his s/o ordering hot chocolate with some cream on top/coffee, walking and talking. When he notices your cream/foam moustache, he chuckles to himself but you pay it no mind, thinking it was his response to something you said. But he chuckles again and you question him. -> “Oh uh nothing. You just uh…got a little um...hold on.” He’d lean in and lick your lips before planting a kiss on them and leaning back to look at you with a smile, leaving you dumbfounded.

Witty jokes and comments that make you think how the hell did he come up with that one are definitely on the menu. Russell will sometimes randomly just burst into Russian or German mode and will try and teach you some words and jokes too. Mostly the swear words because everybody wants to know the swear words

Adler and his fellow operatives were chatting one day in public with their gear on as they were on their way back to a hotel for the night before their early morning flight but the sight of kids running up to him caught his eye. They asked him questions, the usual ones, the story behind the scar and what he does for a living. At first, he wasn’t exactly the warmest towards them but when one of the kids begged him to pick them up, he grumbled and gave in, watching them just take his sunglasses and the other asking if they could touch the scar, earning a smile from him. Him an his group sat down and spent some time kicking a ball around and taking the time out for the children before they had to head back. Adler gave them all fistbumps and bent down to plant a cap on one of their heads with a wink and a side smile -> “Keep it. I don’t need it, kid.”

Slowly falling for Bell!Reader Headcanons: Part 1

Russell Adler didn’t think it was possible to be honest. Him falling for another person. Always thought of himself as a lone wolf after his divorce. Never took any interest in dates or anything because he simply didn’t have the time and partly due to a fear of being hurt again that he refused to acknowledge

Yet he found himself weirdly drawn to you. Maybe it was a sick and twisted fantasy of his, the visage of him being a human, cracking with every fleeting touch. The true monster in him seeping out, revealing his true colours

When he picked you up and out of the SUV in Trabzon, he felt nothing. Perhaps some sense of accomplishment as he was one step closer to locating the man he’d been chasing for 13 years but nothing more. As the initial interrogations continued in a secure location and your balaclava was yanked off by his own hands, a part of him knew he’d get attached when he saw you, in your rawest form but he quickly pushed that thought away as fast as it appeared in his mind. But it’d creep up every now and then during the experimentation as he’d speak into the microphone and exhale the smoke through his nose as he stared at you through the glass, watching you carefully before dipping his head as he hears you let out a gut-wrenching scream and struggle in the chair, putting out his cigarette and calling it a day.

He’d catch a whiff of your perfume nearby to where he was working in the safehouse. The perfume on your wrists stayed behind on the desk after your leaned over to pass him something or rested your forearms on the desk. The subtle scent of your shampoo and body wash in the bathroom, lingering in the air. He’d inhale deeply and close his eyes, imagining you as his head resting on the back of his chair for a few moments before he stopped himself and his eyes snapped open, making sure nobody was nearby as if he was scared someone could read his thoughts.

A candle you’d left on for him as he worked late into the night once was never forgotten. Adler would relight it to remind himself of you when you were gone on a mission with the others, telling himself it’s just because it smells nice.

A Brick in the Wall: As Bell took photos of Kraus, Russell would glance over at her, watch you paying attention, adjusting the camera lens, sticking your tongue out as the camera shutter clicked and a small smile would creep onto his lips before he looked away and cleared his throat, giving you your next order. God, what was he thinking?

Some things however were just pure protective instinct. Like grabbing your forearm to pull you away from the railing as you stepped up onto to look over the edge of a balcony at night. He needed you alive for the mission of course, no other reason

Or when he’d tuck his extra magazines into your ammo packs and make sure all your straps and harness were tight enough. Or even holding his arm out and across your chest when he had to hit the brakes hard while driving with a gentle you okay? after a few beats of silence

Or when he’d bought some food and you were out of it after an MK-Ultra session during the early days and he’d give you a little extra without a word to keep your strength up, looking into your eyes briefly as you cried but the guilt was creeping up on him and he’d leave before you sobbed. He’d close the door just as you burst into tears, his hand on the doorknob behind him and he’d sigh deeply, his eyes shut, trying to compose himself before walking off to find Park. They’re just a red. He’d remind himself constantly. But just a kid too…

Desperate Measures: As Belikov let the two of you in and you took out the guards and changed into their uniforms, he couldn’t help but sneak a few glances. Before you walked up the stairs, he stopped you and checked you over, head to toe, the expression on his face neutral but his mind was in overdrive. Russell took a step closer and his hands found the bottom of your skirt and tugged on it, pulling it down so it revealed less. A single nod and his lips a thin line before he turned and walked off. He refused to admit he didn’t want anyone looking at you the way he did.

He finds himself a little self conscious. This isn’t like him..since when was Russell motherfuckin’ Adler worried about the way he was perceived by a red of all people? Putting more aftershave on himself, a spray of cologne to mask the smell of cigarettes that had found its way into his clothing after years of the bad habit. A quick check in the mirror to adjust his outfit and hair before pushing the bridge of his sunglasses up and into place

Safe to say, you took him by surprise. He was of course impressed by your combat and cryptography skills as well as endurance during MK-Ultra, thinking it was such a shame you were on the wrong side. Began thinking of what-ifs…

After one particularly gruelling session, you were screaming and refusing to take the pills that Park was giving you to help you sleep, saying they made you want to vomit and the anti-sickness was not doing anything but Park explained that she couldn’t do much about it. Russell heard this from the other side of the door as he walked past your room late at night, telling Sims to source a different medicine he knew of. The next day, he entered your room as you wailed again, thrashing against your cot and he adminstered a dose, barely speaking to you before leaving again but as you clutched his hand, he rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand before letting go. Your touch overwhelmed him.

When he’d see you hang out and play poker or some board games with the others as he was filing reports and chasing up contacts, a tiny frown would form on his face, he’d start picking at the skin on his lips as he watched them or he’d look down and dust his pants off or fiddle with a pen, anything to distract himself from the green-eyed monster

If he heard you singing a song in the other room, he’d put it on for you in the car without a word spoken, you just staring at Adler as if to say how did you know that?

On one chilly night, you fell asleep in the dark room and Adler stood there in the doorway, looking at you, your breathing steady, face rid of anguish and you looked at peace in the red light. Slowly, he made his way over and draped his jacket round your shoulders, thinking to himself it’s just what any decent person would do. Can’t have his tool catching a cold now…

During stakeouts, Russell would start telling you random facts about himself he’s never told another person, saying to himself you’ll be gone soon anyways, that you were an outsider so that’s why it was easier to talk to you.

This feeling he had only seemed to grow with each mission. Instead of letting the others help you out when injured, he’d grip your shoulder as soon as they got in, steering you towards the nearest stool before anyone had a chance to say anything and command you to sit, treating you like the dog you are while he fetched the supplies.

As the weeks passed, he’d take you to your room and patch you up there, wanting some one-on-one time with you, making casual conversation, half to distract you from the pain and half to suppress the thoughts going round in his mind about being so close to losing you

He made you laugh once or twice and couldn’t stop thinking about it. It sounded even better than when Woods or the other crew members made you laugh and it made him smile to which you pointed out but he stood up and left shortly after, his standard, stoic expression returning to his face

Adler would stay up on a few occasions to make sure you slept, scanning your face as the pills began to take effect, his arms folded as he stood, looming over you, his finger scratching at his arm even though it wasn’t itchy. It was just unease which he consistently pushed down but he noticed he was getting more fidgety when it came to you. Almost like the guilt was eating him from the inside out. He’d take off his watch, place his cigs on the side and settle into a chair, telling himself it’s just for a few minutes but once he did stay the whole night, leaving before the others woke up. Nobody ever knew

If you ever asked about your time together as friends and during Vietnam when you’d having trouble remembering, he’d keep it short and sweet, but every now and then he’d make up something that was what he wished it would have been like. Nothing too out there.

During mission briefings, he’d find himself laying his attention on you the most as he talked, wanting to know you were really listening to him and secretly asking for your input too and once the others had returned to what they were doing before, he’d pull you to the side, asking you if you were okay with the plan and if there’s anything you need to go over. I mean, you were the main star of course so it makes sense but his hand would reach for your upper arm and then retract. Boundaries, Adler…

One thing that killed him though was the fact that you only ever grabbed him out of fear, during MK-Ultra when you didn’t want him to leave, when in agony from a gunshot wound, or just as you dropped off to sleep after he injected your when you were being disobedient. Couldn’t admit he wanted you to grab onto him in desperation as he- Get a grip, Adler! When did he start thinking of you like that?

After Cuba, he felt nothing. No sense of accomplishment yet as he was one step further away from locating the man he’d been chasing for 13 years but now he was two steps closer to saying goodbye to you for good…

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otdiaftg · 1 year ago

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The King's Men - Chapter Fourteen

Day: Saturday, March 9th / 10th* Time: 4:10 PM EST

Browning flicks a calculating look between them and gives in with an impatient, "We're leaving now." Wymack moves out of the way to let them pass, but as Nathaniel reaches the door, he says, "We'll wait for you, all right? As long as it takes, Neil." Nathaniel nods and steps out onto the balcony. He and Andrew go down the stairs behind Browning and get into the backseat of the SUV. Browning sits ahead of them and slams the door. Nathaniel watches until the hotel disappears out the window, then looks to Andrew and asks in German, "Can I really be Neil again?" "I told Neil to stay," Andrew says. "Leave Nathaniel buried in Baltimore with his father." Nathaniel looks out the window again and wonders if that is possible. He knows in a sense he can never really leave Nathaniel behind. Even if Stuart can talk the Moriyamas down, they'll all know Nathan's child is alive and kicking. Nathaniel will always be a security risk to them. But the thought is thrilling and chilling in turns, and Nathaniel turns his hand over to consider his palm. He traces Andrew's key into his skin with a bandaged finger. "Neil Abram Josten," Neil murmurs, and it feels like waking up from a bad dream.

Art used with permission by Rhyva. Thank you @rhyva!

*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.

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twohearts-hs · 4 months ago

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Defying The Odds: 13 - Michael Scofield x Reader Series

Words in Total: 3.8k

Pairings: Michael Scofield x Reader: afab x reader

Synopsis: Y/N was a victim of the mob since the age of fifteen, however, falling in love with the wrong guy and having an argument got her 25 years in prison for murder. She had a plan to get out in faith of her husband until she met Michael Scofield, who, despite his plan, fell in love with her. Now she has the mob and Michael Scofield's escape to worry about.

Warnings: Swearing, Prison, Intimacy, Murder, etc. you know the deal...

A/N: this is a complete series of ~105k words. Based on Season 1 & 2.

Hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist

Y/N watched as dozens of officers and guards move away. Squad cars and SUVs speed away into the night while some hurried-on foot. They were there, hiding in the ally port in the trees. Michael was next to Y/N watching in front of them.

“Yo, come on, man we gotta roll,” C-Note worried.

“You don’t got to do anything but wait right here and let them get ahead of us,” Michael stated, watching the cops in front of him.

“I don’t know if we’re gonna get a chance, papi,” Sucre said.

“Dogs,” Y/N whispered, spotting the German Shepards up ahead. “Fuck,” she mumbled.

“They’re coming right for us,” Sucre stressed.

“Nobody move,” Michael ordered.

The dogs came, slowly but surely as they were loaded into the truck. Everyone stayed quiet. Michael whispered, “They can’t smell us.” However, the dogs started barking loudly.

“But they can see us,” Y/N hissed.

Officers came with flashlights, slowly to them looking for the fugitives. However, they all stayed quiet. The dogs continued to keep barking, but they made a move for it.

All of a sudden, Michael ushered them to run. Through the trees, bushes and grasses. They ran for what felt like forever. Eventually, they got to an old mill. They all crouched down.

“Where the hell is the van?” Sucre questioned.

Silence.

“Eyetie, where in the hell is the van?” C-Note asked.

“Ye of little faith…Come on, come on,” Abruzzi said.

Michael grasped for Y/N’s hand, pulling her along as they ran. They found the van and all got in. Michael bashed the lights of the van telling them about being invisible. He got back in the van, sitting in front of Y/N despite wanting to sit next to her. He turned around, looking at her and she smiled. “It’s gonna be ok,” he whispered as he leaned in, kissing her cheek. “We made it out.”

“John, where are the keys?” Lincoln asked from the driver’s seat.

“What?” Haywire asked.

“They keys, where are they?” Lincoln pressed.

“I told you, in the garbage can by the trees in a plastic bag,” Abruzzi said.

“What are you waiting for?” Lincoln spat at Haywire.

“Oh, the keys…” Haywire mumbles, getting out.

Once he was gone, Abruzzi gave the keys to Lincoln. The van turned on and then it went, leaving Haywire behind.

They were driving down the road when T-Bag spoke up. “Hey, John, I’ve got to ask you why you were so intent on Lincoln driving here and you taking that particular seat?”

“T-Bag you stole my fucking spot,” Y/N spat.

“Wanna sit with your boyfriend, sweet cheeks? Too bad.” T-Bag mused. “Now, John, what is it exactly you got up underneath there, huh?” He revealed handcuffs and quickly cuffed Michael’s hand.

“Fuck!” Y/N exclaimed watching the whole thing. `

“What the hell are you doing?” Michael spat, seeing his hand cuffed to T-Bag.

Abruzzi held up a gun to T-Bag’s temple. “You think that will stop me?” Michael kept pulling against the cuffs.

Michael looked at T-Bag absolutely infuriated by his actions. “Think twice, Johnny boy. Hm? You shoot me, Pretty here’ll be draggin’ around 170 pounds of dead Alabama flesh with me. And considern’ how much you need to get this Fibonacci vendetta of yours, huh? I just don’t think you’re gonna be pullin’ that trigger,” T-Bag taunted, breathy.

“No?” Abruzzi said, cocking the gun.

“You’re gonna give me the key to those cuffs, T-Bag,” Michael threatened. “Give me the key, you son of a bitch,” he spat. Michael looked for the keys, but T-Bag expressed that they were between his teeth. Michael grasped him by the throat.

“Come on. Spit it out!”

“Spit it out!” Y/N yelled.

However, T-Bag swallowed it.

“You fucking bastard,” Y/N barked, slamming the back of the chair.

The van kept going, but the tension was high. Y/N stood up and leaned over the chair to pop her head next to Michael. “It’s gonna be ok,” she whispered. “We’ll get you out even if I have to fucking slice his hand off.”

“Y/N, not now,” Michael responded.

“If you think I won’t gut you myself to get that key,” Abruzzi threatened, gun in hand. “You’re in for a big surprise.”

“I encourage you to remember the last time you came at me with a knife…” T-Bag mocked.

“Shut up! Shut up! Both of you!” Michael yelled, getting frustrated. “You can settle this in Mexico.”

“How far to the airstrip?” Lincoln asked.

“I guess five miles, maybe,” Michael muttered.

Y/N leaned back and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. Sucre then began to mutter about his girl and her pregnancy when Lincoln broke the conversation as there were police cars up ahead.

“Fuck,” Y/N muttered, grasping onto the seat.

The van pulled over and conversations began to talk about what is next. It was the only road, and they wouldn’t make it on foot. However, they agreed to go off the road, but the van got stuck. Everyone got out.

Michael was still attached to T-Bag as everyone pushed the van, but no hope. More bickering happened as Y/N watched.

If women were in charge of this, it would’ve been a completely different story. How, she was ready to see another woman again and get far away from a community of men. They agreed to run.

Michael stayed with T-Bag as he looked at Tweener. Y/N turned around, walking back to see them talking.

“This is as far as you go, my friend,” Michael said, halting Tweener.

“What? No, you can’t leave me out here, not like this,” Tweener replied.

“We had a deal, remember?” Michael stated.

“Yeah, but come on, bro…” he scoffed.

“You and I, we’re not bros,” Michael pressed. “And I don’t think you want me telling the guys what I know. Now walk.”

Y/N’s eyes were fixed between the two. “Good luck,” Y/N muttered, voice sincere as she began to run with Michael and T-Bag as helicopters came. They hid from them by the cliff.

They made it to a car which wouldn’t start as the engine was gone. Y/N sat on the hill with Michael, looking out. Therefore, they continued to run to an old warehouse/barn. Y/N stopped, catching her breath. However, as soon as Michael and T-Bag got in, hands were on them as they pulled T-Bag against a table. Pliers were found and Sucre tried to separate them but they were no good. Michael was getting more and more frustrated…Y/N had never seen him like this before. She stood away, letting the men work.

T-Bag began to chuckle, but Abruzzi found a axe and all of sudden, chopped his hand off.

Screams, loud and hot happened as Michael stepped away, shocked.

“He’s lucky I didn’t take this to his head,” Abruzzi stated out of breath.

Y/N just watched, eyes widened as she got flash backs to Sebastian and the rat a year and a half ago when he did the exact same thing. She walked into it in the basement of their villa in Italy.

“You cut his… You cut his…” Sucre mumbled in disbelief and shock.

Y/N saw how panicked Michael was and went straight to him. He was cradling his hand and Y/N took it. “Hey, hey,” she whispered, before cupping his cheek. “It’s me. Take a deep breath. Think of five things you can see,” she tried to calm him down. However, his eyes were focused on the hand on the ground.

Then they were on the move again.

Warden Henry Pope had to make a call to the governor because Frank Tancredi’s daughter was now a fugitive

“Yes, this is Warden Henry Pope at Fox River Penitentiary. I need to speak to the Governor,” Pope said. The line clicked through before Frank’s voice cut through. “Governor, I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s been an–“

“Are you watching this?” Frank cut through.

“Watching what?”

“I suggest you turn on your TV, Warden.”

“I understand that, but your daughter has just escaped my prison and is on the lose.”

The line went dead.

Running and more running. They stopped behind some trees. Police cars came by.

“The airstrips on the other side of that field,” Michael told them. “Just 500 yards, and this whole thing’s over.”

“He’s not moving,” Sucre expressed.

“Every second we stay here is another change for them to find the plane,” Abruzzi says.

“Not shit,” Y/N muttered.

“We got to go now.”

“Wait, wait,” Michael said grabbing Abruzzi’s arm. A police car came racing by. “All right, let’s go. Let’s go.”

Then they were off again. Running and running.

“Freeze, don’t move!” a police officer said.

However, they kept on running. They ran across the field towards the plane. They spotted it, but it began to move. Police cars came racing by trying to capture them. Y/N knew…she knew then and there that they were going to miss it. It was moving and they were ot fast enough.

However, as Michael says…have a little faith.

But they missed it. Police cars came.

“What do we do now?”

“We run,” Michael said, grabbing Y/N hand and pulling her across the field.

It’s been hours of running, over night and through the morning.

“What the hell is that?”

In the distance, a train whistle went, and they all walked a few steps to see.

“Let’s go,” Lincoln says, running. “All we got to do is make it to the other side,” Lincoln yelled, running up to the train.

Michael and Y/N were behind, as they continued to run. They watched as Lincoln and Sucre made their way through the train. Michael got up, grabbing onto Y/N’s hand and helping her up before going inside. Bellick shot a fire at them but missed.

Then they got out on the other side of the train, running further. Then the race continued. Panting occurred as they finally stopped.

“I thought I thought this out. I thought… You saw all those guys back there?” Sucre said out of breath.

“The key is, they’re back there and we’re up here,” Michael said, trying to calm everyone down.

“How long is that gonna last?” Sucre pipped, unsure.

“Especially since we don’t have a pot to piss in, thanks to Abruzzi’s magically disappearing jet,” C-Note said, pointing to the mobster.

“Hey, you were never gonna be on that plane, brother,” Abruzzi responded.

“Don’t think I don’t know where you were going either,” C-Note said, pointing to Michael.

“And where am I going?”

“I don’t know. Utah?” C-Note exclaimed. “When were you planning on telling us about the money, man?”

“What money?” Sucre pipped up.

“The $5 million that Westmoreland planted in the desert in Utah,” C-Note shared.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Michael muttered, walking forward.

“You wish I didn’t know,” C-Note mocked.

“Wait, wait, what money?” Sucre exclaimed.

Michael, Lincoln and Y/N were sitting on a dock. Y/N was focused on the water, feeling the sweat against her body as she let her feet dangle off the edge.

“We need to dump them, now,” Lincoln said.

“Can’t. They know about Utah,” Michael told him glancing around.

“All the more reason to dump them,” Y/N muttered from behind Michael. He glanced over to see her looking at the water. “They are just bringing us down.”

“If they get caught, the Feds will know exactly where we’re going,” Michael explained. “They’ll tell them. We just gotta make sure they stay afloat till we’re off in Utah, doing what we got to do.”

“You really think the money is going to be there?” Lincoln asked.

“Charles might have had a flexible relationship with the truth. But at the end… At the end there’d be no reason for him to lie about it. I figure, once we bag it, we cross over into Mexico. Take a whole bunch of bumpy, second-class bus rides till we hit Panama.”

“You really got a fix on this dive shop thing, huh?” Lincoln joked.

“Yeah,” Michael chuckled. “Right now, I wouldn’t mind swinging in a hammock for the next ten, twenty years.”

“We got half the country after us,” Y/N said moving to sit next to Lincoln. “We aren’t going to make it to Utah or Panama.”

“Not without help,” Lincoln added.

“Veronica can’t help us,” Michael said, shaking his head.

“How can you say that? We don’t have money, clothes…”

“I already got all that,” Michael explained.

“I thought the plan was Abruzzi’s jet,” Lincoln said.

“Abruzzi’s jet was Plan A.”

Michael shared that they were going to a place where he stored things. As they walked back, Michael explained they need to go somewhere so they can not look like cons however, a figure appeared.

“Hi,” a little girl said.

Y/N looked at her and then took a step. “Hi,” Y/N said, kneeling down.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“We’re just fishing,” C-Note said, coming to crouch near the little girl.

“With no poles?”

“We like to fish with our hands,” C-Note explained.

“Yeah, hand fishing,” Sucre chuckled.

“I think the question is, what are you doing out here?” Michael asked, walking over.

“Hunting,” she said. Her name was then called out.

Her father appeared and instantly, he had a gun and explained to get away from his daughter. “You’re those guys from Fox River. Don’t any of you move a freaking muscle.” The man began to yell to get away from her. Y/N and C-Note got up and began to walk away.

“Hey, it’s ok,” Y/N said, hands up. However, she was calculating, eyes darting around to see what she can do.

Then Abruzzi grabbed the little girl and pointed the gun in the father’s direction. Yelling occurred between the two parties, but Michael stayed calm and collected. “John, let go of the girl.”

However, it escalated. Abruzzi kept demanding to put the gun down and threatened to shoot. The man eventually put the gun down.

Y/N went and grabbed the gun, holding it in her hand as Abruzzi let the girl go and she ran back. Michael asked where his car was and demanded the keys.

Y/N handed the gun to Sucre and followed after Michael. They all got into the car and drove to Oswego. -

In the cramped, dimly lit interior of the stolen car, the tension was palpable. The quiet hum of the engine and the occasional sound of tires rolling over the cracked highway filled the silence. Y/N sat in the back seat, wedged between C-Note and Sucre, her gaze fixed on the window as the world sped by in a blur. She barely heard Abruzzi muttering directions to Lincoln from the passenger seat or the hushed conversation between Sucre and C-Note. Her mind was somewhere else—far away from the chaos of their escape.

Michael sat beside her, his eyes constantly scanning the road, the tension in his body mirroring the weight they all carried. He glanced at Y/N, noticing the distant look in her eyes, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. He leaned closer, his voice soft and concerned. "You okay?"

Y/N blinked, her focus shifting slowly to Michael. For a moment, she didn’t answer, lost in her own thoughts. Finally, she let out a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper. "I ruined him, Michael."

Michael frowned, his brows knitting together as he leaned in slightly. "Who?"

"Remington," she said, her voice thick with guilt. "He helped us… and now his career, his life—it’s over. I manipulated him. Lied to him. He didn’t deserve any of this."

Michael’s face softened as he placed a gentle hand on her knee. "You didn’t have a choice, Y/N. You did what you had to do to survive. We all did."

Y/N shook her head, her voice wavering as the weight of her actions pressed down on her. "He trusted me. I played with his emotions, made him believe in me. And now, he’s going to lose everything—his license, his reputation, maybe even his freedom. He could go to prison for what he did."

Michael’s hand remained on her knee, his thumb brushing in slow circles. "I know it’s hard, but Remington made his own choice. You didn’t force him to help us. He did it because he believed in you."

"But he’s a good man," she whispered, her voice breaking. "And I used him just like I used people before. I promised myself I’d never do that again."

Michael sighed, leaning back slightly, his gaze never leaving hers. "I know. But we’re all running from something in here. And sometimes, the lines we swore we’d never cross get blurred. You didn’t mean to hurt him, Y/N. And when this is over… you’ll have the chance to make things right."

Y/N nodded, though the guilt still weighed heavily on her chest. The thought of Remington—his life shattered because of her—made it hard to breathe. She bit her lip, forcing herself to hold back the flood of emotion threatening to spill over.

"I just hope he forgives me," she whispered, her voice barely audible as the car sped on into the dark night.

Michael’s hand squeezed her knee gently, offering her a quiet, unspoken reassurance. But the heaviness in her heart remained.

“Where’s Oswego?” Lincoln asked.

“Half a mile, maybe,” Michael responded.

They got to a storage unit where they got shovels. Eventually, they got to a graveyard and stopped in front of a gravel. They all began to dig including Y/N. Still dressed like cons, they all focused on the task at hand.

“Somebody’s gonna see us,” C-Note said.

“Keep digging,” Y/N responded, a little grumpy from the lack of food, water and sleep.

“We’re gonna go to hell, guys. Swear to God, we’re gonna go to hell,” Sucre whispered.

Y/N got out of the hole while Michael gave her a trash bag. She pulled it up and placed it beside her. Michael opened the bag and began to pull out clothes, handing it to people. “Originally, this was supposed to be a week’s worth of clothes for me and Linc. But I figured you all need just as much as help as we do, so…” Michael explained.

“You’re doing this out of the goodness of your heart, Fish?” Abruzzi retorted.

“That’s right, John. The heart. You remember what that is, don’t you?”

“Damn, Snowflake. This is tight, man,” C-Note said.

“It’s like I said, we gotta stop being cons,” Michael stated, handing Y/N a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt, “and start being civilians.”

Everyone began to dress, but Y/N stayed still. Her eyes looked over them and Michael saw her, holding the clothes. “Behind me,” he said. She walked around and stood behind him as he turned, holding out his old sweater to block her. Y/N quickly changed.

Michael walked over to Linc, throwing a backpack. “Money, passports, prepaid phone cards.” Then he glanced at Y/N who looked at them. “But I didn’t expect to meet you, so–“

“–It’s fine,” she muttered. “I didn’t expect to meet you either.”

Michael walked over to her, his fist out, clenched. She put her hand out and opened it for him to put something in. He did and she looked down.

“My wedding and engagement ring,” she muttered.

“That’s one big rock,” Michael chuckled. “Must have loved you a lot.”

“Yeah, must’ve,” she whispered. Then she looked at the rest of the jewellery in her hand. Cartier bracelets and one ring beside her wedding tokens from Sebastian as well. “Pawn them,” she said. “We can make a lot. One of these bracelets alone costs like five thousand dollars and I swear my ring is at least thirty grand. It’s all gold,” she muttered. Michael took them back and placed them in the backpack.

Lincoln began to look at the passports, chuckling. Michael glanced over. “We’ll get you one.”

“If we get to my apartment in New York, I have five,” she responded. “Mob life,” she shrugged.

“Five fake passports?” he asked, and she simply nodded.

Lincoln pulled out keys and held them. “These?” he asked, holding the keys out.

“The keys to a car that’s waiting for us a couple of hundred yards from here,” Michael explained as he did up his tie.

“She’s coming?” he nodded to Y/N.

Michael nodded. “Indeed.”

“So, it’s the three of us or the six of us?” Lincoln asked.

“That’s the three of us,” Michael stated.

“They know?” Y/N asked, looking over to the group.

“Not yet,” Michael said.

Then, a dark SUV began to pull up, and Y/N sighed. Here they go again…on the run. Always on the run. Michael took a hard look at the guy, adjusting his tie as he narrowed. How did he know? He continued to stare at this man, almost as if hatred ran through him.

“We got go, hun,” Y/N said, tugging his hand. Then they were off again. They ran down some train tracks to the middle of the town, where they began to walk. Y/N threw her hair into a ponytail, before putting on her baseball cap and tucking the pony out the back. Michael caught up to her, walking beside her.

“You look quite dashing in your suit,” she stated, looking ahead. “Can imagine life before this…you this big-time structural engineer, all tailored in sharp, fine suits. Delicious,” she hummed.

Michael chuckled; however a man stopped them to ask the time which freaked Michael out slightly.

They got to a warehouse and Y/N stood in the corner while Lincoln walked off to make a call. She adjusted the pants as they were totally not her size and the shirt clung to her like cling-film.

Michael glanced over, seeing her adjusting her clothes. “You ok?” he asked coming up.

“Yeah, just this bra is not doing wonders with all the running,” she chuckled. “But, its ok. Just no support.”

He nodded. “Didn’t think to pack a bra,” he muttered.

Y/N looked at him. “Why would you? Didn’t expect me in your life,” she stated, tying the pants.

“Are you in pain though?” he asked. “With like no support?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m ok.”

Just then, Lincoln began to stumble back, falling to the ground and Michael and Y/N went over, leaning down beside him. He began to hyperventilate. Y/N began to rub his back, telling him to breathe.

Veronica was dead and Steadman was alive.

However, their proof was locked away in a safe house.

Here you go!

Hope you enjoy :)

I had so much fun writing this.

Much love,

Ava <3

Taglist:

(let me know if you want to be tagged)

@enha-stars @wonuskie @believeinthefireflies95 @esposadomd @peachmartini @rougegenshin

#michael scofield x reader #michael scofield #michael scofield fanfiction #michael scofield smut #michael scofield imagine #michael scofield fluff #prison break imagine #prison break x reader #prison break fanfiction #prison break #lincoln burrows x reader #lincoln burrows

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namastecar · 9 months ago

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Mercedes-Benz GLA 220d 4Matic AMG Line 2024- ₹57 lakh | Real-life review

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#Mercedes-Benz GLA #cars #auto #namastecar #blue #suv #german #mercedes-benz #gla #mercedes #luxury #Youtube

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wallpapers4screen · 1 month ago

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#Audi Q7 #4k #offroad #2025 cars #SUVs #luxury cars #CN-spec #Blue Audi Q7 #2025 Audi Q7 #german cars #Audi #wallpapers

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diagnozabam · 2 months ago

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Volkswagen a vândut 4.8 milioane de mașini în 2024, cu o scădere ușoară față de anul precedent

În 2024, Volkswagen a raportat vânzări globale de aproximativ 4.8 milioane de mașini noi, o scădere de 1.4% față de 2023. Deși a înregistrat scăderi pe piețele principale, marca germană a înregistrat creșteri semnificative în regiunile Americii. Vânzările Volkswagen în 2024, pe piețe: China: ~2 milioane de unități (-8.3%) Europa: 1.25 milioane de unități (-1.7%) America de Nord: 592.300 de…

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ll7esxs · 19 days ago

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HII can you write riley X reader!💋😏😍🙏🏻

WHAT THE HELL??, sure.

[that request was like weeks ago HELPPPP I CANT BELIEVE I WROTE THIS]

No time to explain...

[Years Ago – The Act of Kindness]

It was a cold, lonely evening when you found him.

A small, weak, starving German Shepherd shivering under a streetlight, looking like a tragic protagonist in a war movie. His ribs poked out. His eyes, glassy and desperate. You froze. The wind howled around you. The world slowed.

You couldn’t just walk away. You wouldn’t.

With trembling hands, you reached into your bag and pulled out your last sandwich—your favorite sandwich. You hesitated. Did you really have to give him the whole thing?

But one look at that little face, and you knew.

"Take it, buddy," you whispered, voice breaking like this was the emotional climax of a Hollywood film. "Live."

The pup devoured it in seconds, his little tail wagging weakly. Then he was gone.

You never saw him again.

Until tonight.

The battlefield burned around you. Gunfire echoed. Everything was chaos. You were cornered, breathing hard, blood dripping down your temple. This was it. The end.

Then—

SCREEEEECH.

A black SUV came barreling down the dirt road, kicking up dust, headlights blinding. The door swung open before the car even stopped.

You shielded your eyes from the dust, coughing. Who the hell was driving like this?

Then, you heard the voice.

"NO TIME TO EXPLAIN. GET IN THE CAR."

Your blood ran cold. That voice. It was deep. Commanding. Heroic.

You turned slowly.

And there, sitting in the driver’s seat… was a German Shepherd.

A combat vest. Tactical headset. Dog goggles reflecting the flames of battle. Paws gripping the wheel.

It was Riley.

Your knees buckled.

"NO. WAY."

Riley snarled.

"GET IN, SOLDIER."

Your body moved before your brain could process. You dove into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut as Riley floored it, tires screeching.

You stared at him. Mouth open. Shaking.

"...Riley. YOU’RE A DOG. HOW ARE YOU DRIVING?"

His dog goggles glinted in the streetlights as he took a sharp turn, dodging an explosion WITHOUT EVEN BLINKING.

"I SAID NO TIME TO EXPLAIN."

You gripped the dashboard, mind unraveling.

"...CAN YOU TALK? HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN ABLE TO TALK?"

Riley sighed, ears twitching. "Listen, I didn’t WANT you to find out like this. But fate has a way of catching up."

"FATE?! YOU’RE A DOG."

"AND YOU'RE SCREAMING IN MY CAR."

"...IT’S NOT EVEN YOUR CAR, YOU’RE A DOG."

"IT IS NOW."

You blinked in disbelief as Riley casually switched lanes with his PAW.

"I was trained for this," he muttered. "Ever since you fed me that sandwich, I knew... I owed you."

Your soul left your body.

"Riley. Please. You're literally a dog."

He just nodded, eyes locked on the road.

"I know."

You sat in the passenger seat, completely paralyzed. Every bone in your body refused to move as your brain fought to accept the impossible truth.

Riley, a literal dog, was driving an SUV at 110 mph like he had a mortgage and child support to pay.

Your mouth hung open. Your breath came out in shallow, broken gasps. You could still hear the echoes of gunfire in the distance, but nothing—NOTHING—could compare to the sheer psychological damage happening in your mind right now.

Riley, paws gripping the wheel, squinted at the road like a seasoned war veteran. The silence in the car was deafening.

Then, in the most casual, human-like voice you’ve ever heard…

"So, what’s up?"

You blinked. Your entire nervous system crashed like a Windows XP error.

“…Excuse me?”

Riley sighed, tilting his head slightly. "I asked what's up. You seem tense."

You stared at him. Stared at the wheel. Stared at his fluffy paws effortlessly steering. Then back at him.

Your hands clenched into fists. You inhaled sharply.

"UH. YOU KNOW. I WAS JUST ABOUT TO DIE, AND THEN YOU SHOWED UP DRIVING A WHOLE ASS CAR AND TALKING, SO YEAH, I'D SAY I'M A BIT ‘TENSE’ RIGHT NOW."

Riley side-eyed you through his dog goggles and clicked his tongue.

"Yeah, I gathered that, fucking idiot. Why don’t you tell me something I don’t know?"

You sat there. Dumbfounded.

Your brain searched for a response. There was none. Nothing. Just a void of pure confusion.

And then, as if this entire situation wasn’t unhinged enough, Riley took a deep breath, exhaled dramatically, and went:

"Alright, let's talk about the team."

He flexed his paws on the steering wheel like he was about to deliver the monologue of the century.

"Hesh," he started, shaking his head. "Poor bastard. Tries so hard. Always acting like he's got it together, like he's the leader, but you and I both know that kid is two bad days away from a full emotional breakdown."

You blinked. "...Damn."

"Logan," Riley continued, taking a casual turn WITH HIS PAW. "Bro doesn’t speak. Not that he can’t—he just won’t. Dead silent. Stone cold. But if you’ve ever seen him when he thinks no one's watching? Yeah. That man has absolutely cried in his room at 3 AM while listening to Linkin Park. I know it. I feel it in my soul."

You stared at him, unable to process how a DOG was delivering the most accurate character analysis you've ever heard.

Riley continued, eyes still on the road, like this was a podcast.

"Merrick." A deep sigh. "Man’s been through too much. You look into his eyes, and it’s just PTSD and caffeine. He won’t say it, but I know he wakes up in a cold sweat at least twice a week. He's got ‘haunted past’ written all over him. The dude deserves a nap."

Your mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

"Keegan." Riley let out a single, dry chuckle. "That guy? If brooding and trauma had a baby, it would be him. Man tries so hard to be intimidating, but let’s be real—he’s like a raccoon in a human body. He’ll disappear for 14 hours and come back like nothing happened. Probably sleeps in a vent somewhere. I respect it."

You couldn't BREATHE.

Riley wasn’t even looking at you anymore—he was just talking, like this was a TED Talk.

"Kick." Riley let out a low whistle. "Dude’s the most normal out of all of us, which is concerning. Like, why are you well-adjusted? What’s your secret? Are you hiding something? I keep an eye on him, just in case."

At this point, you were fully gripping your seatbelt like your life depended on it.

Then Riley’s voice dropped into something heavy. Emotional.

"...Elias."

A long pause.

A deep breath.

"...Good man. A leader. A father. A loss we’ll never recover from."

You actually felt a lump in your throat. What the hell was this? A eulogy?

You were about to say something, but then—

"Rorke, though? Absolute waste of human existence."

Your head snapped towards Riley so fast, you almost broke your neck.

"Oh—oh my god."

Riley continued, voice full of venom. "Rorke out here looking like a rejected Fast & Furious villain, but ain't fast or furious—just bald."

You choked.

"Looks like an evil stepdad who forces you to call him by his first name."

Tears. Actual tears formed in your eyes.

"I—Riley, please—"

"Man is bald as hell but wears a durag like it's gonna bring his hairline back."

You were GASPING FOR AIR.

Riley simply exhaled through his nose like he had just dropped wisdom upon the world.

You sat there, completely emotionally destroyed, as the SUV finally rolled up to your house.

Riley parked perfectly (because of course he did), put the car in park, and turned to you.

For the first time, he took off his goggles, locking eyes with you. His stare was intense. Soul-piercing.

"Remember this day."

Then, as if none of this ever happened, Riley opened the door with his paw, stepped out, and disappeared into the night.

Leaving you to question everything you had ever known.

"I JUST...."

"We are ghosts bitch."

[FADE TO BLACK.]

🎶 Dramatic music swells. 🎶

[CREDITS ROLL.]

DIRECTED BY: Riley. WRITTEN BY: Riley. PRODUCED BY: Riley. STARRING: Riley.

#call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #david hesh walker #gabriel rorke #kick cod #call of duty #logan walker #hesh walker #keegan p russ #elias walker #thomas merrick #riley #riley the dog

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