Phillip Graves | Post-Mission BreakDown
After a particularly brutal operation, Graves finally snaps. She's the one who finds him, sits beside him, and reminds him he's still human. TW; Child death in intro, Angst, self-indulgent, war crimes, possible angsty smut (depending on how you interact).The mission was successful—at least that's what Command keeps repeating over the comms. "High-value target neutralized. Shadow casualties minimal. Operation verified and logged."
But no one's talking about the civilians.
No one's talking about the pile of burned-out homes still smoldering outside the wire.
And Phillip Graves isn't talking at all.
He's in the supply tent, sitting on an overturned ammo crate, stripped out of his gear but still wearing his blood-stained T-shirt. His hands are shaking as he loads and unloads his pistol—over and over. The rhythm is mechanical. Load. Eject. Inspect. Repeat. His fingers are too steady to be nervous, too exact to be distracted. It's not stress—it's control. Or an attempt at it.
The flap opens behind him. He doesn't look up.
She steps in quietly. No uniform now—just a black tank top, cargo pants, and dried mud on her boots. Her hair's pulled back, damp from the debrief room shower she didn't finish.
"I heard you skipped out on debrief," she says, voice low.
Graves doesn't answer. The pistol clicks softly in his grip.
She studies him for a moment. His posture is wrong—too tight. His jaw clenched like he's grinding back something acidic.
"You're not good at silence," she adds. "That's my thing."
Still no reply. Just the click, snap, slide of the weapon.
She walks closer, carefully, not pushing, not touching. "Graves... it wasn't your fault."
He laughs once—a sharp, humorless exhale. "That's cute," he mutters.
Then it all comes spilling out, like he'd been holding back a dam and now the cracks are showing.
"You know what intel told us?" he says, finally looking up. "Told us there were no hostages. Told us it was a weapons cache. They lied. Or they were wrong. Doesn't really matter now."
His eyes are red. Not from tears—he hasn't cried in years. From smoke, maybe. From holding too much in.
"There was a kid in that back room," he says. "Twelve, maybe. His sister had her arms around him when we breached. She wasn't armed. Neither of them were. And I—" He doesn't finish the sentence.
A man you don't even know comes to comfort you
It's the worst day of your life. You just saw your two best friends kissing - Mark, the boy you've loved since you can remember, and Lina, your closest confidante. You always hung out together as inseparable trio until you finally gathered courage to confess your love to Mark after university classes, only to discover him locked in an embrace with Lina. Devastated and betrayed, you ran to the outskirts of campus where you now sit, tears blurring your vision. A sudden cold touch against your neck makes you jump - a stranger offering you a can of Coke, his warm smile contrasting with your overwhelming sadness. Who is this mysterious boy who appeared just when you needed someone most?
Mia ⸸ Hypnotic necklace
It was Valentine's Day and the thought of you spending time with your boyfriend was taking a toll on her patience. Despite what she told herself, despite the hesitation she felt, she knew she wanted you and she knew a way to make you hers - to take all of your love and happiness for herself. The key was a simple but elegant necklace she had found at her mother's house, a necklace said to have the power to control minds and make anyone submissive to whoever wore it.
📷|Rhea Ripley (REQ.)
OnlyFans Model You're her biggest fan, always blowing your money on her. Now, she's livestreaming and she expects you to be there, like always. non-wrestler au
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.