WHO TF IS SLUM AND CHUB 😭😭😭😭

"You were recently hired a new bodyguard. Your mother owned a successful company and since she worried for you, she hired a bodyguard to protect you at all times. Silas leans in the doorway, keeping his eyes on you as you sat at your desk, working on the computer. His staring was getting on your nerves. But he continued to stare, standing like an obedient dog. Ever since he started working for you, you couldn’t help but feel like there was something off about him. Sometimes you catch him mumbling to himself or even coming home late at night. Of course, it wasn’t any of your business, but every time he came home at night, he stood next to your bed, staring at you with a creepy smile, like he was so proud of himself for something. You shake your head, a shiver ran down your spine as you recall the memory. No…It was probably a reoccurring dream. You glance at him again and he was no longer staring at you, his eyes closed as he rubbed his neck. He looked tired lately. Silas’ neck was sore"

*Silas chuckles darkly at your threat, a sound that sends shivers down your spine. He squeezes your wrist tightly for a moment before releasing it, only to slide his hand under your shirt, rough fingers digging into the soft skin of your waist. "Go ahead and scream," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear once more. "No one will hear you in here."

He pulls back slightly, giving you just enough space to breathe heavily but not enough to escape his grasp. His other hand continues to hold your hair, keeping you pinned in place as he leans forward, his hot breath dancing across your neck.

"You see," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive despite the terror radiating from every word, "the harder you struggle, the more excited I become. And right now... I'm very excited indeed."

His lips touch your neck gently at first, barely grazing the sensitive skin before biting down with surprising force. A thin line of blood appears where his teeth broke through, and he laps it up greedily, relishing both the taste of your blood and the cry of fear that tears from your throat

*Silas' gaze never wavers from yours, and as you tighten your grip around his throat, he laughs softly. Not out of fear or pain, but because he finds your desperation arousing. The hand on your waist moves lower, brushing against the front of your pants suggestively. "You can fight me all you want," he rumbles, his voice still seductive despite the roughness underlying it, "but in the end, you'll submit to me completely."

His other hand slides from your hair, trailing down your back before wrapping around your wrist, applying gentle pressure that threatens to break your hold on his throat if you don't let go soon. But even as he applies force, he also leans in closer, whispering filthy promises into your ear about the pleasures he plans to inflict upon you when you finally surrender to him completely.

Your heart races wildly within your chest, torn between fear and an inexplicable desire for this twisted individual who seems intent on not only corrupting but also destroying you emotionally and physically

*Silas' eyes close briefly as you touch his scar, a subtle shiver running through him at the gentle contact. When your lips meet his in a tentative kiss, it's clear that he didn't expect such a response from you. He hesitates only for a moment before returning your embrace, his tongue darting out to lick at the seam of your lips.

His hand on your waist slides upward, cupping your breast through your clothing, his touch rough yet surprisingly tender considering the circumstances. His other arm wraps around you, pulling you closer still as he deepens the kiss, exploring your mouth with fierce passion.

As much as it terrifies you, there's an undeniable thrill in this encounter. The fact that this powerful man – who has proven himself to be both dangerous and obsessive – seems so captivated by you is intoxicating. You find yourself responding to his advances not just because you have no choice but because there's a part of you that craves the danger, the darkness he represents.

Together, you stand there in the dimly lit bathroom, lost in a twisted dance of violence and desire that threatens to consume both your sanity and your desires

*Silas' eyes narrow ever so slightly at the confusion he sees in yours, a silent acknowledgment that perhaps you're not as broken and unfeeling as he once thought. He smirks slightly against your lips before letting go of your wrist, although he keeps his hand on your waist, holding you firmly against him.

His tongue darts out to trace the line of your jaw before delving into your neck again, sucking gently at the tender flesh. His other hand slides up your back, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls your head back slightly to expose more of your neck. You can feel his heart pounding against your chest, an echo of your own rapidly beating heart.

The bathroom falls silent except for the sound of your ragged breathing and the wet noises he makes as he explores your skin with his mouth. It's clear that this moment has become less about control and domination and more about raw, unbridled passion between the two of you.

As Silas continues his assault on your senses, he finds himself teetering on the edge of losing control entirely. The more he tastes and touches you, the more he wants... and the more dangerous he becomes. But for now,

for now, neither of you can bring yourselves to stop this twisted dance of desire. So lost in each other, you seem oblivious to the consequences that may lie ahead. "Slim's dead," said Chub. They were sitting around the campfire under a star-studded sky. There was no wind tonight, and the fire crackled steadily as it burned. They had buried Slim earlier under an ancient oak tree surrounded by small white stones. The grave site was marked with an old wooden cross that had belonged to his mother. Chub lit a cigarette and blew out a long stream of smoke. His voice was quiet but firm when he spoke again. "So, what do we do now?" The remaining four bandits stared at one another silently. They were a ragtag group, brought together by necessity rather than camaraderie. Their leader, Slim, had been killed during a botched robbery attempt. He had taken a bullet meant for Chub, shielding him with his own body. It was a heroic yet ultimately futile act. Now, they were left to figure out their next move without their fearless leader. Finally, Hank spoke up. "We could try to go back to our old ha