#beth/sam

[witchesroad]

whatever you do, DON’T think about josh waking up the morning after the prank and everyone being cagey and indirect about where his sisters are. everyone keeps telling him “it was a joke,” but he can’t piece together the story in a way that makes sense.

sam and mike are nearly frostbitten from how long they spent searching in the snow. chris got his information from ashley, who bit her nails down to the beds overnight. the others could barely look him in the eye. josh can’t figure out if his headache is related to the hangover or the idea of his sisters, humiliated and alone, lost somewhere on the mountain without him.

and where was he when they needed him? drunk, passed out? the last thing he remembers is a hazy glimpse of his baby sisters dragging him to the same couch where he awoke 10 hours later. he sees their faces but the edges of the memory are blurred and undefined. the sound of their voices and laughter is already fading away and running through his fingers like sand. all that’s left is the howling of the wind.

[peach-el]

Not sure how I feel about the remaster but these are so cute

[samgiddings]

helloooo ladies

[trulyhblue]

Bf Leah being wound up after a bad game and takes control. Smut pls!!!!

BLED BLUE

leah williamson x chelsea! reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, humiliation, dom/sub dynamics, age gap (legal + consensual), hate sex, enemies w/ benefits, rough, coarse language.

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Part of you wondered how long it would take Leah to take you home. There was not an ounce of blue in her body, taken only by the lifelong allegiance to North London, but the thought of you, a blue-born Chelsea girl, taking up the space under her sheets, was addictive.

Chelsea were the better team. Always was, and always will be. The Blues were better at everything. Their players were more advanced, their game plans had been executed to perfection. Arsenal were sloppy, poor, and unjust. It was embarrassing to the point where it stood out as entertaining to you. Seeing the almighty, reigning Arsenal fall on their knees and succumb to the superiority of your team was endearing, and you found yourself searching for the thrill increasingly more as the game progressed.

And the sight of the woman you hated oh so much angered by the defeated notion of the final whistle was your idea of an indescribable victory.

“What a shame, Williamson.” You snagged, clutching the fabric at your hips, looking down at her bent figure. “I thought you’d play well.”

“Ah, it is you.” She replied with just as much spite. “I thought I saw someone falling flat on their face. Makes sense now that I know it was you.”

You smirked, folding your arms over your chest. “Yeah, tried to show my humility… y’know, after scoring two goals tonight I thought it was only necessary.”

Leah scoffed, straightening her posture to display her authoritative height over you. “Both off deflections… sounds brilliant.”

“Player of the match worthy.” You bit back, stepping forward, pressing your chest against hers, suppressing the heat in your face. “Don't worry, I’ll make sure to credit your own goal in the interview.”

“Always have an excuse to talk about me. Can't stop, can you?”

“Is that what you think of me?”

“I don't think of you.” Leah shook her head, grabbing the hem of your shorts and fiddling with them persistently. “But if I did, I’d be sure to let you know.”

“If only I cared enough to hear it.” You tutted, not really caring about the openness of your situation. The stadium was still quite full, with both of your teammates lingering on the field. Fans were banking the barricade, no doubt looking for the two of you.

“I could tell you now if you’d like.”

“Aw, are you thinking of me now, Williamson?”

You felt Leah’s hand move to the inside of your thigh, pressing a tight pinch to gain any type of reaction from you. Biting your lip, you hoped that the post-game redness covered your blush.

“I bet you love the thought of people watching this, don't you?” She asked, glaring at you with such hatred that her words felt bittersweet. “Always so desperate for attention that you’d do it in front of everyone. Fucking needy.”

“You’re the one touching me.” In anger, you snapped. You didn't like the way Leah seemed so confident, so right in what she was saying. You wanted to be right. You were the one who won it for your team. You were better than her. She needed to realise that.

The only separation between the two of you was by your arms crossed over your chest. Leah was drawing furious patterns along your thigh, pressed up against you with her face above you, your height earning her to look down.

“Pull away then.” She uttered, now pulling you into a hug. You knew this would send fans into a spiral. Everybody knew about your rivalry with Leah. It was evident in the tackles, the cards, the teams, the games, the interactions. This was unclaimed territory. You had both teased each other after the games. There was always fire and spite, anger and resentment, but never contact. She told you to pull away, and by the tension that lingered, if you did she would let you have there was something else there. You felt it between your legs, running down your spine, making your core yearn.

It was in the way she kept her hand in between your thighs, deepening her fingers just below where you needed her most. She held you tight, closing any physical gap, forcing your arms to circle her waist as she wrapped her spare arm around the name on the back of your shoulders. You don't know why, but you held her back just as tight, breathing heavily when she started moving her fingers upwards.

“So tense.” She spat, rubbing your shoulder.

You shook her arm off, keeping the contact but still resistant. “I pulled it at training, of course it is.”

“Wasn't talking about your shoulder, baby.” She chuckled, her voice sending goosebumps down your neck. “In those thighs. Clenching them so hard and I'm hardly touching ‘em.”

That was when you knew your cheeks were burning.

There was a hint of humiliation in your tone, but your anger was still prevalent. “I didn't even notice your hand.”

“Yeah, alright.” Williamson grinned, pulling away. You felt the cold air nip your cheeks at the sudden loss of contact. Her fingers were no longer soothing the ache in between your legs. “Alright, baby, no, all that flushed cheeks from the big game, hm? Breathing so heavily cause you scored two goals, is that you’re so wet for me?”

“I’m not— you're so—”

Leah stepped away again, and you were too stupid to step forward in response. “God, is that what you're gonna sound like in the interview? You a mess, Baby, really. All flustered and red.”

“I'm not red.” You snapped. “And stop calling me baby. You're only four years older than me.”

Leah could see straight through you. “But you love that though.” She saw straight past your visible persona. “Why don't you show me how mature you are then? Can't call you baby if you prove that you're not.” She could tell by your flustered state, your wide eyes and your tainted disposition that you were struggling to handle the conversation.

“I don't need to prove anything to you. I just won the match. That's enough to prove that I'm better anyway.”

“But you needed help to get there, didn't you?” She retorted. “It’s not your name on the score sheet, it's mine. Look,” she pointed up to the screen, almost condescendingly, above the stands, where WILLIAMSON (OG) was printed boldly in white below the score. “All that hard work and I still get the mention.”

There was a fight for dominance, but the fight was so clearly won when you audibly gulped, unable to come up with just enough answer to compel yourself into a deeper state of anger. If anything, you were willing to resort to forbidding, but you were stubborn and bled blue.

“You’re just mad that you lost and we won. Chelsea was always better anyway, and you were just too slow… bet that's always the case.”

Leah’s jaw clicked, her lips settling into a thin line.

“In what case?” She muttered distinctly.

“You know what case.” You failed to notice the challenge, finding yourself in a superior position of confidence to realise the hole you were digging for yourself. “Slow and boring… on and off the pitch. You definitely get around, but you never seem to see one person twice. Maybe that's because they don't want to see you.”

Leah grabbed your wrist, yanking you off the field. It was a tradition that you would see the fans after every game, so you tugged back in retaliation.

She pivoted to face you, glaring at you with so much affliction that you yearned for more.

“You seem really interested in how I ‘get around’. Sounds like you wish it was you.”

No matter how hard your body was willing to succumb to her words, you stood firm by scoffing, rolling your eyes at her cockiness. “If only I was so desperate.”

“I’ll show you just how desperate I can get you.” The captain spat, holding your forearm now, easily leading you further down the tunnel where fans or players could no longer find you. “Didn't even properly touch you before and you were a needy mess.”

“You’re always so fucking sure of yourself, aren't you, Williamson?” You snapped back, hearing the clad of your boots fail to drown out your ungrateful tone. You did not care for what Leah was so keen to impress you with. Never had anyone told you that Leah did not impress. She was determined to make sure everyone was supplied with the right things for their needs. She valued giving pleasure over receiving. But if there was one thing she hated, it was brats like you.

You stood outside the Chelsea changing rooms, your kit still adorned on your figure.

“Go get your shit.” She snarled, letting go of your arm and jabbing you forward.

You scoffed, stopping dead in your tracks. “And what? You're gonna wait for me and drop me home? I have a license, Williamson, I'm not your fucking—”

You couldn't finish your rant, yelping when Leah cut you off, grabbing the collar of your shirt and mashing her lips against yours. One of her legs found its way between yours, her knee pushing against your core. A moan fell from your lips, and the woman wasted no time in slipping her tongue in, caging your figure between you and the wall.

She waited until you were kissing her back before grabbing your neck. She instantly moved down to litter harsh kisses down the nape of your neck, using her hands to move underneath your shirt, massaging your breasts. You were a mess beneath her, breathing heavily when the pressure on your clit intensified when her knee started rubbing patterns up and down.

“Swear at me again and see how it turns out for you.” She muttered in your ear, relishing the whines that fell from your lips as her knee continued its work. “If I tell you to grab your bag, that's what you do, yeah? You understand, Chelsea?”

The nickname left you shrinking, her words making your core glisten. You weren't completely sure whether the Arsenal girl was planning on taking you home. You didn't understand why you were all of a sudden pretty much moaning at the friction of her knee.

But you weren't fucking complaining.

“My teammates are in there.”

Leah let out a laugh. “You had no problem letting me touch you in a filled Stanford Bridge, Babygirl. I think it’d be healthy if your teammates realised who fucks their Stargirl after a home game.”

“You haven't fucked me, yet.” Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, the thought of the England captain fucking you sending you into a spiral.

“Go get your bag and then I can use that pretty mouth for something other than moaning my last name… not that I mind when you do that.”

You wasted no time in doing as you were told, forever thankful that all of your teammates were either still interacting with fans or showering. You grabbed all of your stuff and quickly followed Leah over to the away changing rooms.

She let you walk through, since none of the girls were present, grabbing your belongings and chucking them inside her cubby. You felt her figure cage you back into the nearest wall, her hands how playing with the hem of your shirt, inching it further up your waist until it was completely disregarded, and you were left in your sports bra and shorts.

“Why so quiet?” Leah asked, kissing down the column of your neck, fondling your breasts. You sighed at the growing ache in your core, throwing your head back when Leah’s knee came back into contact with your clit.

“Some— someone’s going to walk in.”

Leah snorted. “Like you would mind.”

You huffed, grabbing the back of her neck and pushing her head further down your body. Leah’s knee stopped in return, leaving you writhing at the loss of pressure.

“Use your words or you can get off yourself.”

“Like you could get me off.” You retorted.

“I don't make brats cum.” She spat, moving back up to tower over you. “I edge them until they’re desperate and getting themself off my thigh. I treat them like brats, and maybe you need to work a little fucking harder for what you want.”

“You were just teasing me!”

“You're just desperate.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Leah.” There it was. Music to her ears.

“What?”

You whined, using your hips to drag yourself along her knee.

“What was that, Baby? Couldn't hear you under all those whines.”

“Leah, c’mon.” You stated potently, getting more impatient by the minute. “I'm not begging.”

The number six shrugged, looking down at you with wide, innocent eyes like she had no clue what you were going on about. Like she didn't even realise that you were humping her leg longing for some relief.

“Begging for what?” She moved her finger painstakingly down your chest, tracing your abs ever so slowly.

“For you.”

“For me?” She questioned, feigning confusion. Her hand dipped into the waistband of your shorts, circling your clit over your underwear. “Answer me, Darling. What do you want me to do? I'm touching you.”

“Touch me more.”

Leah tutted, moving her hand away. You groaned, throwing your head back when no pleasure was offered. “I'm afraid that's not how you ask. It might get you somewhere at Chelsea, but at Arsenal, we treat our Captains with respect. Even our star girls use their manners in the North end.”

“Touch me more, please.”

“Where, Chelsea?” Leah moved closer to you, peeling off her own shirt, removing your shorts, leaving you in your underwear and bra. “Be a good girl and tell me where.” She asked, her body lowering itself closer to the ground. You watched her kneel before you, hands gripping your waist, kneading your hips, lips biting your inner thigh.

“My clit, Lee, please. I need you to touch me there.”

“Such a good girl for your Captain, aren't you?” Leah ran her tongue along your folds, your underwear pooled at your feet. Your legs were swung over her shoulders, your hands buried in her hair, pulling taunt to her ponytail and the hairs that had fallen out during the game. Your moans were still muffled by the bite in your lips, the nerves of someone hearing your desperation for your enemy is still evident in the way you kept your mouth shut.

It was when Leah’s tongue latched onto your clit, sucking harshly on the swollen bud that your noises fell so adamantly from your reddened lips. You felt Leah’s cocky smile, her chuckles sending vibrations of pleasure through your body.

“Sound so pretty, Baby.”

“Leah— fuck, Lee. I'm gonna—”

“You’re going to hold it. Taste so good, you can wait.”

The coil in your stomach was forming long before Leah had even started, and the more Leah attacked your bud, the more your orgasm led to burst. Your moans had doubled in volume when one of her hands came up to play with your nipple, pinching it and playing with the nub every time her tongue licked up your folds. Her other hand worked its way through your pussy, spreading your slick all over your thighs, letting it run down your shaking legs and make your skin glisten with the glossy arousal.

“Want Stanford to hear you,” Leah spoke from below you. You whined at the thought. You were in a state of pure bliss that all cautionary thoughts of interruption were so far gone. All you could think about was Leah’s face between your legs.

“Feels so good, Lee. Want to cum so bad for you.”

“You can hold it, baby.”

“Mh, Lee, please.”

Leah moaned at your whines, nuzzling her nose up against your clit, pinching your nipple hard, reeling at the moan you let out in response. She saw the way your hole clenched around nothing, smirking at the way you rolled your hips across her face, working your pussy into her mouth so easily. She felt powerful knowing she had you at her disposal. You were stunning always, but there was something about you now that set Leah off. It made her angry knowing that you weren't hers to fuck at her discretion. It made her protective over you in ways she had never felt before. You were Chelsea’s protege — everyone worried when going up against you.

“Leah.”

It wasn't like something had changed, but Leah had realised that her hate was actually protection and adoration. She wanted you for herself. She wanted to steer you away from anyone that would hurt you. She hated Chelsea, she despised the West side more than anything, and it wasn't the sex that made her realise this.

“Leah.”

It was her name coming from your lips.

“Cum for me, Baby.”

That was all you needed to hear before you were barreling over the edge, your legs relying entirely on the strength of Leah’s upper body to keep you balanced. Your moans exemplified the stimulation of your orgasm riding out, and Leah’s endeavours to lick the result of it up as it poured into her mouth and onto your thighs.

The woman made sure you had somewhat caught your breath before she moved, having a moment to catch her own breath and comprehend what just happened. When she knew you were able to stand independently, she moved over to her cubby, grabbing the baby wipes she always had handy, moving back down to her knees to clean the mess across your legs as you covered your chest back with your jersey, and later your shorts.

Leah moved to do the same, except she watched as you fumbled with what to do. She gave you a pointed look as if to question your thinking, and you simply sighed and waddled over to her, slight humiliation at your wobbly legs painting your cheeks as you grabbed your bag.

“You all good, Baby?” She asked, her voice no longer authoritative and rather empathetic.

“Yeah, thanks.” You nodded. “Erm… sorry for being… rude… actually I'm not sorry but I am.”

“Yeah, same,” Leah replied a cheeky grin settled on her complexion. “I think we can settle for friendly rivalry from now on.”

“If that's what you call this, then sure.” You added, laughing along with what to make of the situation, feeling more out of place than ever in the middle of the Arsenal room. “I better go.”

“I’ll drive you home.”

“Lee, I've got my license—”

“It wasn't a question, Chelsea.”

You stood there defeated, knowing internally that you had no way home after Millie had driven you to the stadium and would have left by now anyway. Leah must’ve known that by the way she wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her chest.

“Besides, wouldn't want that Player of The Match Trophy getting forgotten now, would we?”

_________________

A/N — bad ending but oh well… HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!

[kashlat2]

Was drawing comms but for some reason my brain forgot how color works so I tried to remember and… yeah

[poguelands]

SUPERNATURAL, Devil's Trap, 1.22 (dir. Kim Manners)

[jossamology]

josh washington - until dawn remake (2024)

( hd icons ) by @jossamology ❝ like or reblog if you used my icons!

make sure to credit me.

[jessmalia]

Foolish one, stop checking your mailbox for confessions of love that ain't never gonna come. You will learn the hard way instead of just walking out.

[willows-writings]

Of Butterflies and Consequences: An Until Dawn Interactive Fanfiction:

PROLOGUE NOW POSTED

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Masterlist and How to play

(my main masterlist)

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taglist (comment if you wish to be tagged in the beginnning of all chapters): @hearts4josh @lousypotatoes @moyo5653 @morgy3456 @pecxiebu @ohantonia-blog

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‼️PLEASE READ‼️

Hello!!! Welcome to this fic!

This fic will be Josh x Reader

Ever read a choose your own adventure book? Or played one of Markiplier's games? This is just like that!

Just like the game there will be different stories and endings you can get

There will be a total of 10 chapters (11 if you include the prologue) and I will be doing my best to align them with the chapters in the game

When I drop an update I will be dropping an entire chapter at once so you can play a whole chapter seamlessly!

Speaking of updates you will have to bear with me and the time between updates because I will have to plan out entire chapters with multiple different storylines all at once

If you happen to be stalking me and see a new post right as it is posted but can't find the rest of the chapter or the links aren't working please give me a few minutes because I will have to link everything together after it is posted

Since the original game also has different stories you can follow based on the choices others make I will be choosing some of the options for others.

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How to Play

The prologue and chapter one will only have one beginning Most other chapters will have more than one beginning though that will depend on your choices and how you ended the last chapter If you can't remember or find the beginning you are supposed to start on I will be linking them all below as each chapter is posted If your problem is being unable to remember which beginning you need to start on then the best option would to be to go through the route you played real fast and once you reach the last post there will be a link to the next chapter once it is posted (lmk if that doesn't make sense) Other than that every post with a choice will end with two links that will take you the choice you made. Please let me know if a link takes you to the wrong post. Every post will be titled the same as the choice you just chose. (see the prologue as an example once it is posted)

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Masterlist

Prologue

Chapter #1

Chapter #2 - Beginning #1 - Beginning #2

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And that's it so far! Today is 10/20/24 and I will likely be posting the prologue sometime this week! If you have any questions regarding the plot or anything else feel free to send them in! If you have any suggestions for the plot please send those too! Just know I have some of this planned out already so I may not take your suggestion but I appreciate it anyway!! Any likes, reblogs, comments, fanart, whatever you want is greatly appreciated!!

[jemilyudenthusiast]

Jemily in the Scott Pilgrim / Ramona pose!!!

Enjoy my gays

Happy Pride! ❤️

[admirationandromantics]

Never have I ever...

Yes, this was a request, and it is not proofread! Anyways, hope you like it, and I'll be working on some more this evening. Don't know if I can post tonight though, but we'll see. Trying to stay optimistic, and finally exams are over so I can actually do whatever I want. Anyways, enjoy, and requests are still open <3

Word count: 2,5 k (Unedited)

The night was still young, music playing and people chatting. Thank god the Washingtons said yes to host, because this type of mess would’ve left me in tears. And we were barely getting started. I take another sip of my drink, hoping to get that good dizzy feeling a little quicker. 

“Boo!” Josh yells, grabbing me from behind. I shriek, giving a loud scream. He’s quick to put a hand over my mouth, almost too quick. Like he was anticipating it. 

“Jeez, sorry. Don’t scream, people are gonna think I murdered you or something” 

I clutch my chest, heart still beating hard and fast. This man will be the death of me. 

“You almost did” I whisper, hitting his head. He smiles, taking my hand in the air, pulling it up to his lips. He leaves a trail of wet kisses down my wrist, each peck more sensual than the last. During this, the eye contact remains, strong blue orbs cutting through me. It’s almost as if I can see how hard he wants to ravage me. The thought alone makes me heat up, underwear getting wetter. He notices my blush, which makes his signature smirk form on his lips. Oh… he’s thinking about stuff, that dark and sinister side of him taking over. 

“Hey guys… what are you doing?” Jess yells, stopping in the doorway. I jolt away quickly, looking down at my wrist. 

“My bracelet fell off, couldn’t fasten it on my own”

She looks convinced, maybe she knows how hard they actually are to click shut. She waves her hand, signalling for us to come. 

“Okay, anyways, drinking game and both of you are joining”

“Coming” I say, looking back at Josh. We’d been dating for a while now, though we hadn’t told the others yet. We wanted to figure things out on our own first, check that we matched. If it didn’t work out, it would affect all the others, and we would rather just try to get back to normal. 

He’s still staring me down, challenging me to leave him in the dark. I smile, taking hold of his hand and dragging him with me to the living room. Everyone is sitting on either the floor or the couch. 

“So, what are we playing?” I ask, sitting down beside Sam. Josh walks over to Chris, nudging his arm to give him room on the couch. 

“Never have I ever” Ashley answers unenthusiastically. I know she thinks the game is boring, that she already knows everyone’s secrets. Well, almost everyone. Emily lines up the shot glasses, laying them on the table in the middle of the crooked circle we’ve created. 

“Quick question” Sam asks. “Can we only ask about things we’ve done before, or can I ask anything? Like even if I’ve never done it” 

“You’ve never played before?” Matt asks, looking over at her. 

“Yes I have, but there are different versions of it” 

“You can ask anything you want” Jess answers, settling everything. “I’ll start” 

“Never have I ever had a thing for someone in this room”

I watch as every single one in the room takes a shot. Hard start I guess. I look over at Josh, who gives me a wink before pouring down the content. I take a deep breath, trying to get over the taste as quickly as possible. This was gonna be a long night. We continue the game, going in a circle so everyone gets to ask a question. Beth goes after Jess. 

“Okay, never have I ever stolen something”

Mike, Matt, Jess, Hannah and Josh drink. Emily looks over at Mike with contempt before questioning him. 

“When have you ever stolen something?” 

“Stole your heart, didn’t I” he grins, kissing her on the cheek. Hannah rolls her eyes, and Jess is looking at them a little too hard. If someone decided to dig into that, I wouldn’t want to be in the room. Matt breaks the silence, asking the next question. 

“Anyways, I have a good one. Drink if you’ve had sex with someone in the room” 

Everyone but Ashely, Jess, Chris and Matt drinks. I’m actually surprised. I would’ve thought that Jess and Matt would’ve gotten it going once or twice. Ashley and Chris were no surprises though, they couldn’t even confess to each other. It would take some time for them. 

I drink down the liquid, noticing Josh doing the same thing. He smiles, a sweet one that makes no one suspicious. I look away, getting to see Sam finishing her glass. 

“Something you wanna tell me?” I tease, looking over the room. 

“You need to get me more drunk to get anything out of me” she laughs, nudging my arm. 

“Okay, my turn” Mike exclaims, grunting a little from the last shots. 

“Never have I ever used knives while having sex”

I quickly take the shot, making sure to do it as discreetly as possible. Luckily, most eyes are on Josh, as he drinks up. 

“What? Why would you do that”

“You’re sadistic!” 

“Was this your idea, or your partner’s?” 

Josh just shakes his head in response, refusing to give them a satisfactory answer. I smile at him, trying to hold my laughter as everyone is teasing him. He gives me that known sinister smirk again, sitting up, capturing everyone’s eyes with his movement. 

“I think you missed a certain other person in the room who’s also had some experience in this area. Don’t give me all the attention” 

“Jerk” I mouth to him, everyone’s heads turning to me. Matt lets out a whispering exhale, and Ashley’s holding her hand over her mouth to stop her laughter. I put my hands up as a surrender. 

“I tried something. As if you guys haven’t done freaky shit” I say, my finger pointing over every single person in the circle. 

“To build on the sex-related ones” Emily starts, shifting everyone away from me. Thank god. 

“Never have I ever been tied up” 

I nervously take another shot, but calm down as more people join this one. Both Emily and Mike join, as well as Beth. Josh licks the rim of his glass, eye contact going hard before gulping down the liquid once again. 

Hannah is next in line, and I hope for a non-sex one. She glances around the room before taking a breath, the circle waiting in anticipation. 

“Never have I ever fucked in my best friends house” 

I drink at the same time as Sam, and we look at each other wide eyed. In MY house? She had sex under my roof without me knowing. 

“You had sex in my house??” We both shout at the same time. Many others drank as well, but our joined voices make everyone burst out in laughter. 

“When was this?” I ask, and she just smiles. 

“As if you’re gonna tell me yours. I’m not spilling any more than I have to” 

“Well, I hope at least you didn’t spill too much in MY house” I smirk, and she shoves me. A  particular loud “What” followed by Josh’s laughter makes us look on the other side. 

“Dude, what the hell, I haven’t even hosted yet” Chris exclaims, arms wide in confusion. 

“Don’t worry, we were quick, you didn’t even know” he laughs, giving me a little side glance. 

“Wait, that means… The only one you could’ve done it with was-” Josh smacks a hand over his mouth, making everyone shout at him. 

“Stop!”

“We wanna hear!”

He leans over to Chris, whispering something in his ear. This makes him stop squirming, and he removes the hand carefully as everyone is waiting in anticipation. 

“So” Jess begins. “Who was it” 

“Can’t tell, bro-code” 

She throws a pillow at him, causing a small snicker to escape his lips. The room fills with sighs as they don’t get to know who the culprit is. It’s me, I know it, Josh knows it, and not Chris knows as well. He raises his eyebrows my way, and I mouth a little “sorry” back. We weren’t gone for long when it happened. Just a quick thing in his bathroom while he and Ashley tried starting up the console in the living room. 

Sam goes next, facing me with a smug look. “You know, I’m still not over the knife-thing” My eyes widen, and I look at her pleadingly. She turns to the others, loving the power she holds. 

“Never have I ever done it outside, in the snow, on Blackwood Mountain” 

I thought it was gonna be worse, but Mike and Emily must definitely have done it there. I empty the glass once again, getting more used to the taste as we keep going. Josh does the same, and suddenly, everyone has a look of realisation on them. 

“Are you fucking kidding me” Sam exclaims happily, her theories were right. I look over at Mike and Emily, their glasses in front of them still full. Shit. I capture Josh’s eyes, and he’s already realised it. We gave ourselves away. Sam is laughing hysterically, holding onto me for support. 

“Like, I knew you were having good sex, but the whole ‘he must’ve learned to use his tongue from the gods’-thing is Josh? I don’t believe it!”

“Sam, shut up” I whisper, and she throws herself backwards, trying to regulate her breathing. 

“Wow, so I’m made of the gods?” he teases from across the room, and I roll my eyes. 

“Thank god that secret didn’t last long” Chris exclaims, breathing out in relief. Half of everyone here is laughing, and the rest is looking at us, expecting to hear more. 

“I hope you talk about me like that to your friends” Mike whispers to Emily. 

“Not much to talk about dear” 

“Okay fine” I shout, making the room silent. “You want drama, I’ll give it to you” I stand up, looking down at Sam. 

“Never have I ever, done the deed with a twin” 

Her mouth opens in shock, and people turn to look at Beth, who’s a brushing mess. Got ya Sam. I sit down again, a smirk forming on my lips. “What was it you said again Sam? Something about how incredibly sexy t-mmf” She moves her hand over my mouth, letting only muffled sounds come out. She leans over to my ear, whispering. “I got you, you got me. Even?” I shake my head, ready to let the world know about the things she’s said. “You know, that’s not the only thing you’ve said about Josh” 

I give a loud sigh, rolling my eyes and pulling her hand away. “Fine” 

During the whole ordeal, I notice Mike has to refill his glass, but everyone’s eyes are still on Sam, not seeing the small action. 

Her cheeks are tomato red, and everyone continues asking questions about them, which both refuse to answer. Josh is still looking at me, a subtle smirk in the corner of his lips. His eyes don't falter, staring intensely, undressing me with his mind. His tongue wets his lips as his orbs go down… down…

“Next one!” Emily shouts, interrupting our mental fucking. Ashley is next, but doesn't have one ready yet. I lean over to Sam, smiling as I whisper. “I hope you took the last shot” 

“Asshole” I fill her cup, urging her to do it. Her cheeks are still red, though most of us are getting messier and louder. This was a lot of alcohol, and the only ones not in deep were Matt, Ashley and Mike. Mike has a high tolerance, and the others hadn’t drunk much yet. I look over at Chris, and I think he had a few too many beers before we began. He’s still thriving though. Ashley finally finds a question, and Jess hushes us. 

“Never have I ever broken in somewhere” 

Matt and Josh drink alone, everyone eager yet again for them to spill the beans. Matt starts, not being shy about it. 

“It wasn’t anything major, me and some other guys wanted to impress some girls with our skills, and the outside arena was freezing” 

Hannah and Ashley smile, they already knows where this is going, and I do too. 

“So, we managed to get the lock to the gym building open, and played inside for a couple of hours”

“And was it worth it?” Mike asks, giving him a wink. “Hell yeah!”

Everyone gives coos and whistles while Matt just shakes his head. This must be the most ‘Matty’ crime that could’ve been done. 

“What about you Josh?” Beth asks, confused by when he’d broken in. I try to remember some time I knew about, but my mind is blank. I’m also eager to know this one. 

“Well” he looks over at me again, and I give an encouraging smile. “Her apartment” 

“What?”

I don’t know when he did this. Was I home? How long ago must it have been? He has a key, and he’s had that for a while. 

“It’s not breaking in if you have a key” I say. 

“What about the time I came through the window?”

“You’ve gone through the window?” I shout. This is news to me, when did he do this? Everyone in the room holds their breath, and some, their laughter. 

“When I surprised you in the shower!”

I think back. Some weeks ago, he scared me in the shower. I figured that I just left the door open, but I guess not. I mean, he did more than scare me in there…

“You still went through the window??”

“I feel like you’re focusing on the wrong things”

“No, I’m not!”

Everyone bursts out laughing, not being able to hold it. I look around for support for my cause, but only Sam shrugs her shoulders to me. 

“I guess I’ll be breaking in somewhere tonight”

“Not breaking in if I want you there” 

“Okay guys, we’re almost done” Chris adds, and he’s right. There’s only him and Josh left now, and after that, we’ll go back to whatever conversations we had before, ready to party the rest of the night. Drinking more than we should. 

“Never have I ever cleaned up my best friends house after fucking in it”

No one drinks. 

“You’ve got to be serious, man” he whines, done with Josh’s shit. 

“Sorry dude, I’ll do it next time”

“There should not be a next time!”

“Never will there ever be a next time in Chris’s place!” he shouts, and everyone drinks in solitary. Ashley does too, and the aggravation that was there is immediately filled with flushed cheeks and silence. They’re both adorable. 

“Finally” I exclaim, getting up on my feet. 

“Wait a second” Jess interrupts my exit. “We want to know more about you and Josh!” 

“No way”

“Like, has he given you over three orgasms in a row?” 

I look back, and Josh drinks. Everyone cheers and I walk to the kitchen to grab a beer. Jesus, this was gonna be a long night.

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔉𝔯𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔱𝔥

Mike munroe x male reader

Summary: A year after the mysterious disappearance of Beth and Hannah, your group of friends gather in the same lodge to commemorate them. Your search for the truth leads to a heated argument with Mike, leading to a moment that could change everything about you and him.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. No use of Y/N. Friends to lovers. Mike and Jess are not together in this. Cute interactions between Mike and the reader. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Hate sex. Anal sex.

A request that I received. Hope you enjoyed it <3

Words count: 5000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

𝔉𝔯𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔱𝔥

𝔅𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔶 𝔰𝔲𝔭𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱

𝔉𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢'𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥 Part 2 of it

You adjusted the blanket you had draped over Chris, snickering as you admired the doodles scrawled across his face like crude mustaches, poorly drawn glasses and a pair of horns. The temptation to add your own 'autograph' was too strong to ignore.

Beth stormed into the room, her face flushed with worry. She was shaking Josh's shoulder, trying to rouse him from his drunken stupor.

"Beth? Everything alright?" you asked, straightening up. The humor drained from the room as her panic became contagious.

Beth barely glanced at you as she threw on her pink jacket. "Hannah ran outside? She had barely anything on." Her words came fast, clipped with urgency as she gave up trying to wake up her brother.

"Wait, what? Beth, slow down. What happened?" you asked, but she didn't stop moving. She threw the cabin door open, cold wind rushing in as you saw your group of friends all outside.

You stood frozen for only a heartbeat before you bolted after her. The icy air sliced against your skin as you burst outside, squinting through the storm.

The others were already gathered by the porch, their faces painted with guilt and surprise. Beth's voice rang out.

"You're all jerks!" she shouted. Her breath puffed visibly in the cold as she turned on her heel and ran into the dark woods.

There was no hesitation in you. Your legs moved before your brain caught up, feet crunching through the thick snow.

But a hand grabbed your arm, jerking you back with more force than you expected. "Wait!" Mike's voice cut through the storm. His fingers dug into your sleeve. "What the hell are you doing? You can't just run out there!” His words rang sharp and harsh, a bark more than anything. The wind swallowed some of his words, but you caught the roughness in his tone.

He stepped closer, his grip tightening. Mike's mind was a chaotic mess, tangled with feelings he wasn't ready to admit to himself.

Why did you have to look so determined? So... stupidly brave? The thought of you disappearing into the woods made his stomach churn, especially the idea of you possibly getting hurt.

He wanted to keep you safe. Needed to. The words that came out of his mouth weren't carefully chosen. He'd fucked up the delivery.

Mike realized too late how his voice had come out too sharp, too loud. He saw the flicker of fear cross your features, the slight widening of your eyes. It made him feel like a monster, like the very thing he was trying to protect you from.

He loosened his grip on your arm slightly, his thumb brushing against your sleeve as if to soothe the sting of his earlier tone.

You twisted your arm free with a sharp motion, stepping back just enough to meet his eyes. "I'm not letting her freeze out there.” Your tone left no room for argument as you turned and sprinted toward the woods, your boots crunching in the snow.

The cold bit into your skin as you pushed further into the forest, the wind howling through the trees. Your breaths came in sharp bursts, visible in the icy air. The snow muffled most sounds, but the crunch of your boots and the distant echoes of Beth's frantic calls drove you forward.

"Beth!" you shouted, your voice swallowed by the wind. Anxiety gnawed at you as you stumbled over a hidden root, barely catching yourself before hitting the ground.

You strained your eyes, scanning the dimly lit path for any sign of her. Your fingers were already numb from the cold and each step felt heavier than the last. The distant sound of rustling made you pause again, but this time it was louder, closer.

The snap of twigs to your left made you whip your head around, heart pounding. You exhaled shakily, forcing yourself to keep moving.

Beth's footprints stretched out ahead of you, already partially obscured by the falling snow. You kept your eyes on them, your breath coming in sharp bursts, each one visible in the frigid air.

Suddenly, a loud snort broke through the quiet, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps. You turned just in time to see a herd of elk emerging from the trees, their massive forms moving as one through the snow. Your heart raced as they barreled toward you, their breath visible in the cold air.

"Shit!" you shouted, throwing your arms up as the herd closed in. One of the elk collided with your body, its sheer weight and force knocking you off balance. The force of the impact sent you sprawling, your body hitting the ground hard. Pain exploded in your head as it struck a rock hidden beneath the snow.

The dull, sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air as you opened your eyes to the harsh fluorescent light above you. It flickered faintly, a faint hum accompanying the pounding ache in your skull. It felt like your brain was trying to escape your skull, every throb echoing with the force of your heartbeat.

You winced, squeezing your eyes shut as you brought a trembling hand up to your forehead. The texture of gauze met your fingers and another sharp wave of pain coursed through your head. You groaned softly, as though the sound itself might relieve the pressure.

Flashes of red and blue lights flickered behind your eyelids like a half-forgotten dream. The memory was faint, disjointed. You recalled the blaring sirens of police cars and paramedics talking urgently around you. You tried to piece together what had happened, but the harder you thought, the worse the pain became.

Shifting slightly, you felt a weight on your legs. Confused, you looked down and saw him.

Mike.

His head was resting on his folded arms on the edge of your bed, his shoulders rising and falling with each soft, muffled snore. His jacket was wrinkled, the same one he'd been wearing... last night? You blinked, fragments of the evening slipping further from your grasp.

With what little energy you could muster, you reached out and poked his head lightly with your finger. He stirred, groaning softly as he slowly lifted his head. His hair was a mess, and the bags under his eyes made it clear he hadn't slept well, if at all. His expression shifted from confusion to sharp relief as his bleary eyes focused on you.

"You're awake," he said, his voice hoarse as he ran a hand down his face. "Thank god."

You noticed how he winced slightly as he adjusted himself, probably stiff from sitting in that awkward position all night. "How long have I been out?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you winced at the sharp edge of your headache.

Mike scratched the back of his neck and let out a soft grunt. "All night," he mumbled. "And this damn chair didn't make it easy. Feels like my spine's been rearranged" He leaned forward, scraping the chair closer to your bed, and placed a warm hand on your shoulder. "How are you feeling? Besides the obvious, I mean."

"Like shit," you admitted, your hand still pressed to your forehead. "What even happened?"

Mike hesitated, his jaw tightening. "First, I just—“ He looked away briefly, his eyes darting to the window before returning to you. "I'm sorry, okay? For yelling at you last night. I shouldn't have-"

"You yelled at me?" you interrupted, blinking at him in confusion.

His brows furrowed, his lips parting as he processed your words. "Wait. You don't remember?" he asked cautiously. He leaned back slightly, his hand stilling on your shoulder.

You shook your head slowly, the movement making you wince. "No. I don't even know why I'm here. I just remember...snow? And, uh...something about Hannah?" Your heart sank as the pieces refused to fall into place. "Are they okay? Hannah and Beth?"

Mike's eyes darted away, his lips pressing into a thin line. He rubbed the back of his neck again, a nervous habit you'd come to recognize over time. "The cops are still looking for them," he said finally, his voice low. "That's all we know right now."

You stared at him, your stomach churning with unease. "That's all? What do you mean, 'that's all'? What the hell happened out there?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. He wanted to tell you about the prank but the words lodged in his throat, tangled with fear. Fear that you'd hate him if you knew the truth.

Before he could say anything, the pain in your head spiked again that made you clutch at your temples. It felt like someone was smashing your skull with a hammer.

Mike cursed under his breath and stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. He stormed out of the room, the door swinging shut behind him with a sharp thud.

"Hey!" you heard him shout from the hallway, his voice echoing through the sterile corridors. "Can we get some help here? Like, now?”

“We'll send someone over shortly," A nurse huffed, her voice muffled by the mask she was wearing.

"He's been like this all night," a nurse muttered, barely looking up from a mountain of paperwork stacked precariously on the counter, the exasperation in her tone clear.

"Yeah, 'shortly’ better mean now," Mike muttered under his breath. He returned to your side a moment later, dragging his chair even closer and sitting down heavily. "One of these idiots will be here soon," he said, his tone dripping with irritation. He glanced at you, his hand brushing against your arm, "You good for now?"

Despite the pain, a small chuckle escaped your lips, "It's six in the morning. You probably woke up everyone on this floor."

Mike shrugged nonchalantly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "After the night I just had? I couldn't give a fuck about someone else's beauty sleep"

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him curiously, "You stayed here all night?"

His smirk widened into a grin, though his eyes betrayed the exhaustion behind it. "Damn right I did," he said proudly. "Had to be the first one to greet your cute face when you woke up.”

Your cheeks flushed and you looked down at your lap, a shy smile playing on your lips. "Thanks," you murmured, your voice soft but sincere.

Mike leaned back in his chair, his expression softening as he glanced at you. "The paramedics said you were lucky," he began, his eyes fixed on the floor. "You had blood all over your face. Scared the hell out of me.” His voice faltered slightly and he rubbed the back of his neck. He shook his head, forcing a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Your heart tightening at the vulnerability in his voice. "What happened?" you asked softly, leaning forward as much as your pounding head allowed.

Mike's eyes darted toward you briefly before looking away again. "Ashley freaked out," he continued, letting out a weak chuckle. "She thought she heard one of the doctors say ‘cerebral death' or something. She lost it and well, everyone else started losing it too."

The sheer absurdity of the situation hit you and a small laugh escaped before you could stop it. Mike's grin widened, this time genuine, as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You should’ve seen Chris. He stumbled in here hungover, with all that crap we drew on his face. Ashley showed him a picture of his face and he spent thirty minutes in the bathroom trying to scrub it off."

That did it. You burst out laughing, the sound light and genuine despite the dull ache in your skull. Mike's grin widened, a flicker of pride in his eyes at making you laugh.

A soft knock at the door drew your attention. A nurse stood in the doorway, her face lit with a gentle smile as she watched the two of you "I need to do a quick check-up," she said, stepping inside.

Mike's expression faltered slightly and he pushed himself up from the chair. "Guess that's my cue to leave," he muttered, glancing at you. He hesitated for a moment before mumbling, "I'll be right outside."

You nodded, watching as he shuffled toward the door. Just before he stepped out, he turned back, giving you a small smile. "Don't let her poke you with too many needles," he joked, his tone light

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "I'll try."

As the door closed behind him, the nurse moved to your bedside. "He's quite something, isn't he?" she said as she began checking your vitals.

You blinked at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

She chuckled, glancing at you briefly. "Your boyfriend. He's been here the whole time, you know. Pacing the halls, pestering the staff, demanding updates on your condition." She shook her head fondly. "He was a bit of a pain to deal with, but it's sweet how much he cares."

Your face burned at her words, and you stammered, "He's not... we're not...together. We’re friends." you mumbled, more to yourself than to her.

The nurse raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. She didn't respond, simply humming thoughtfully as she finished her examination.

The months following the incident on the mountain were a whirlwind. The memory of what little you could piece together was hazy.

True to his nature, Mike didn't let the weight of the situation drive a wedge between the two of you. Instead, he used it as an excuse to insert himself into your life more than ever.

It started subtly. A few texts here and there. Calls to check in. Then, he began showing up on your college campus unannounced, a crooked grin on his face each time.

At first, it was endearing, if a little overbearing. He'd pop up with coffee in hand or he'd insist on walking you to class, ignoring the curious stares from your classmates. The visits became frequent, regular. Sometimes he'd bring coffee, other times takeout, claiming he happened to be in the area. You weren't sure if it was pity, guilt, or genuine care that drove him, but as the months passed, his presence became a comforting constant.

When he and Emily broke up a few months later, you were the one he turned to. You'd let him in your dorm without hesitation, offering him a spot on your couch and a sympathetic ear as he vented about everything. It wasn't long before the dynamic between the two of you shifted. He lingered more. He'd stay late into the evening, keeping you company as you studied or binge-watched shows together. Even when you'd fully recovered from the incident on the mountain, he didn't stop coming around.

New reasons to stick around arose, like asking for help with studying, turning up with textbooks and assignments he'd borrowed from friends, spreading them across your desk as though he actually intended to study. Or just showing up with snacks and claiming he didn't want to eat alone.

Those nights were more about proximity than productivity. Mike would sit close, his arm brushing yours as he leaned over your notes, pretending to understand what he was reading. His cologne, warm and woodsy, lingered in the air, distracting you more than you cared to admit.

There were moments where he'd stretch, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal the faint line of his abs. Or when his knee would press against yours, lingering just a little too long. You'd catch him watching you sometimes, his gaze hooded and thoughtful, but he never said anything.

When the message came from Josh, it wasn't a surprise. A year had passed, and the anniversary of Beth and Hannah's disappearance loomed heavy over all of you.

Mike was with you when you got the text, lounging on your bed with one arm casually supporting his head. He didn't say much when you read it aloud but his jaw tightened and his fingers twitched against the fabric.

The drive up to Blackwood was quiet. Mike insisted on driving, his hands gripping the wheel with more tension than usual. Snow blanketed the winding roads, the mountain looming in the distance like a silent sentinel.

You sat in the passenger seat, stealing glances at him when you thought he wasn't looking. His profile was sharp against the faint glow of the dashboard lights, his expression unreadable. It stayed like that even when you arrived at the lodge. Josh greeted you with his usual grin, but there was a hollowness in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

The group trickled in slowly, the reunion was bittersweet, filled with awkward hugs and forced smiles.

It had been almost a year since that night at the lodge, but your thoughts were miles away. Or rather, they were a year behind.

You hated this. Hated how your mind constantly circled back to that night, grasping at fragments that never fully materialized. You despised how you couldn't remember anything but what you hated most of all were the looks of pity from your friends whenever you asked about it.

They never gave you answers, just vague reassurances that it wasn't your fault, their eyes filled with that awful sympathy that made your stomach turn. How could they know that? You didn't even know what had happened.

But you didn't feel better off. You felt lost. And being back here, on this mountain, felt like reopening a wound that had never really healed.

You stepped outside for a quick run, plugging your earbuds and moving, hoping the rhythm of your steps would stir up fragments of forgotten memories, buried deep within the corners of your mind.

A sudden, sharp sting struck the middle of your back, jolting you from your rhythm. You stumbled to a stop, pulling out one earbud as you spun around. A snowball, already disintegrating into a puff of white, rested in the tracks you'd left behind.

Standing a few yards away, panting hard with his hands on his knees, was Mike. His breath came in visible bursts, his cheeks flushed from exertion. That damn smirk of his, cocky and self-assured, spread across his face as he straightened.

"You forgot this," he called, holding up your phone. The device gleamed in the sunlight, its screen dotted with melted snowflakes and the music you put on still going.

You frowned, realizing you must have left it untouched on the couch. As you walked back toward him, he closed the distance, holding it out. "Seriously, though, what are you training for? The Olympics?"

"Thanks," you said, snatching the phone from his hand with a grin. "Maybe you're just slow." There wasn’t even a signal here, why did he make all of this effort to bring it to you?

"Maybe you're trying to ditch me," he retorted, stepping closer. The smirk softened slightly as his eyes flickered behind you, scanning the trail to ensure no one else was there. "Kinda hurts, y'know."

Your heart raced for reasons that had nothing to do with your jog. "Oh, yeah? I'll be sure to write you an apology letter."

"Don't need a letter," he murmured, his voice dropping. "I'm more of a face-to-face guy."

The snow crunched beneath your boots as you walked side by side with Mike, the cold biting at your exposed skin. The air was sharp and still, the kind of quiet that made even your shallow breaths seem loud. You and Mike didn't have a real place to reach, you just had to be there for each other.

Mike's voice pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. "You've been quiet," he said, his tone soft but probing. "What's on your mind?"

Before you could answer, the trail curved and the remnants of yellow police tape caught your eye. It flapped weakly in the wind, still attached to the trees like a ghostly reminder. Your steps faltered, and Mike noticed immediately.

"You okay?" he asked, stepping closer. His brows knit together in concern as he studied your face.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. "They... they never closed the case, did they?"

Mike shook his head, his gaze moving from the tapes to you. "No. They didn't."

Your hand instinctively went to your forehead, fingers brushing the spot where you'd hit the rock that night. The dull ache of memory lingered there, even after all this time.

"Do you remember anything?" Mike's question was hesitant, like he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

You hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Last night, I had a dream," you began, your voice quiet but steady. "At least, I thought it was just a dream. But now, being here... it feels more real.”

Mike's expression shifted, a flicker of anxiety. "What happened in the dream?"

You took a shaky breath, your eyes fixed on the tapes covered in snow. "I was talking to Beth. She looked so real, like I could reach out and touch her. She said something about Hannah. I... I don't know. It's all so jumbled."

Tears pricked your eyes as you continued. "I remember trying to follow her. And then there were these sounds of animals. Something pushed me and I fell. That's when I woke up."

Your fingers pressed against your head, right where the rock had hit you. The sensation made your stomach twist. "It's just... it's all so confusing."

Mike took a step closer, his voice gentle but insistent. "Hey. Look at me." When you raised your eyes to meet his, his expression was serious. "Don’t push yourself. If you don't remember, maybe it's better that way."

You hesitated, then reached out, taking his hand in both of yours. Your grip was firm, almost desperate. "Mike, Please. I need to know. Why did Hannah run away that night?"

The question hung in the air and you felt Mike stiffen beneath your touch. His jaw tightened, his eyes flickering with conflict. For a moment, you thought he might not answer at all.

"It was supposed to be a joke," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. He pulled his hand away, running it through his hair as he took a step back. "A stupid, harmless prank. Something Jess came up with to stop Hannah’s weird obsession with me. That's all it was supposed to be."

Your stomach dropped. "What do you mean?"

He looked at you then, his gaze pleading. "We didn't think she'd take it so hard, you know? But when she saw everyone she ran. And then Beth went after her. You know the rest." He trailed off.

You stared at him, disbelief and anger bubbling up inside you. "So you're telling me you humiliated her? In front of everyone? That's why she ran out into the cold?" Your voice rose, incredulous. You stepped back, shaking your head as anger ross to the surface.

Mike's face twisted in anguish, his own voice rising defensively. "It wasn't supposed to end like that—"

"Wasn't supposed to what, Michael? Run? Disappear? Die?" Your voice shattered on the last word and you shoved him lightly in the chest, your anger boiling over. "You knew what she felt for you! How could you think that was okay?"

"I know!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the trees. "I know we screwed up! I know I screwed up, okay? But it wasn't supposed to end like that!" His voice wavered and for the first time, you saw the cracks in his composure. “I didn’t want you to think i was some asshole” he was scared of losing you. He didn’t think he’d have to deal with this after all of this time. "I didn’t wanted you to stress or feel guilty at thinking that you could have done something"

You took a step back, your breath coming in short gasps, your heart pounding like it was about to rip through your ribs. His gaze softened, a painful sort of regret in it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. He was scared of losing you. Afraid of being nothing but the mistake you couldn’t forgive.

“I couldn't stand the thought of you looking at me like you are right now.“ His eyes searched yours desperately, his breath shaky as if every word he was saying was dragging him deeper into the hole he’d dug for himself. You could see the pain in his face, the regret that tore him up from the inside. “I didn’t want you to stress or feel guilty to think that you could’ve done something but failed miserably. I was trying to protect you," he said weakly.

His words hit you like a slap, reopening the wound of that night. You stepped back again, your chest heaving with the weight of everything he was saying. All you could hear was the deafening roar of your own heartbeat.

“You weren't protecting me," you snapped. "You were protecting yourself. Your image, You kept this from me because you were too scared to own up to what you did."

Tears stung your eyes as you turned, marching back toward the lodge, each step fueled by adrenaline. Your mind was a storm of anger, betrayal, heartbreak, all crashing into each other and leaving you feeling raw and exposed. Behind you, you could hear Mike's footsteps crunching in the snow as he followed.

"Hey! Wait!" Mike called after you. You didn't stop. You didn't even turn around.

"Will you just listen to me?" he called, his voice desperate.

"I don't want to hear it," you shot back, not stopping.

He followed you all the way into the lodge, the warmth of the interior doing little to melt the ice in your veins. You stormed into your room, slamming the door behind but Mike caught it before it closed, slipping inside before you could lock him out.

"I said leave me alone," you muttered desperately at this point, your headache flaring as the tension in the room reached a breaking point.

"I'm not leaving until you hear me out," he raised his voice, his voice firm.

You tried to push him toward the door, your hands on his chest, but he wouldn't budge. "Mike, I can't do this right now. I need time to think-“

Before you could finish, his hands shot up to cup your face and his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was rough, desperate and completely unexpected. It silenced your protests, your words melting into a muffled gasp as he poured everything he couldn't say into the kiss—his guilt, his fear, his love for you.

For a moment, you froze, your mind racing. But then, against your better judgment, you found yourself kissing him back, your hands fisting in the fabric of his jacket as the anger blended with everything else.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, his breath was shaky. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice raw. "For everything. I'm sorry."

Mike's lips were on you before your mind could catch up, rough and desperate, dragging across your neck with a frantic intensity that left you breathless. The cold wall behind you was a sharp contrast to the heat of his body pressed firmly against yours, his chest solid and unyielding as he caged you in. You hated how easily your body responded to him, how even now, with anger boiling beneath your skin, his touch made your pulse race.

"Don't leave me," he murmured against your neck, his voice cracking, barely above a whisper. His light beard scraped your skin, the sensation a pleasant tickle. "Please. Don't."

You hated him. God, you hated him in this moment for the prank, for the lies, for keeping the truth from you for an entire year.

But you also loved him. Loved him too much to ignore the ache in his voice, the raw desperation in the way he kissed you, like he was trying to hold onto you with everything he had left.

Your emotions were a storm, a chaotic swirl of love, anger, betrayal and longing. How could he do this to you? How could you still want him so badly after everything he'd just admitted? You clenched your fists, trying to push him away, but he caught your wrists, pinning them gently but firmly against the wall above your head.

His lips trailed lower, finding the sensitive spot at the base of your neck and you let out a shaky breath despite yourself. His kisses were softer there, almost reverent, as if he were apologizing with every press of his lips. But the soft apologies were interspersed with rougher ones. Teeth grazing, tongue lapping, his beard burning against your skin as he claimed you inch by inch.

"You don't get to-" you started, but his mouth cut you off, his lips capturing yours in another bruising kiss. It was messy, all tongue and teeth, his desperation bleeding into yours as he tried to pour every unsaid word, every ounce of regret, into the kiss. You kissed him back just as fiercely, your teeth catching his bottom lip before your tongues tangled together, fighting for dominance.

He pressed into you harder, one of his hands releasing your wrists to wrap around your waist, his fingers digging into your sides like he was afraid you'd disappear. The other hand slid lower, cupping the curve of your ass and lifting you slightly off the ground.

"Mike-" you gasped, but he swallowed the sound, his lips moving to your jaw, then back to your neck.

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, pulling him closer even as your mind screamed at you to stop. The wall was unforgiving against your back, but Mike's body was warm and solid, anchoring you in a way that made you hate him and need him all at once.

His fingers moved to your belt, undoing it with a quick flick of his hand. His breath hitched as he pulled your pants down just enough for your ass to be exposed, the cool air hitting your skin and making you shiver.

His hand slipped between your legs, his touch impatient and unrelenting as he found your entrance, his fingers pressing against you with a sense of urgency. You bit your lip hard, trying to keep quiet, but a small sound escaped as he pushed one finger inside, the stretch sharp and sudden

"So tight," he muttered, his voice low and wrecked. He added another finger almost immediately, scissoring them quickly, his other hand wrapping around your length and stroking you in time with his movements.

Your head fell back against the wall, a shaky moan escaping before you could stop it. You hated how easily he unraveled you, how your body betrayed you with every gasp and shiver.

"Mike," you said again, this time his name coming out as more of a plea.

"Just let me make it up to you," he whispered, his lips finding your ear. "Please. Let me show you."

You didn't respond, couldn't respond. Your hands found his shoulders, gripping tight as he prepped you with a frantic kind of precision, his fingers stretching you faster than he usually would. He wasn't being gentle, and you didn't want him to be, not right now.

When he finally pulled his fingers away, you felt the loss acutely, but it didn't last long. He shifted, pressing his hips against yours and you felt the thick length of him brushing against your entrance. He paused just long enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. "Do it."

He didn't need to be told twice. He pushed inside slowly, the stretch burning in a way that made your toes curl. He was big and the feeling of him filling you completely left you breathless. You clenched your teeth, digging your nails into his shoulders as he bottomed out, his hips pressing flush against yours.

"God," he groaned, his voice strained as he buried his face in your neck. "So fucking perfect."

You couldn't speak, couldn't think. Love, hate, anger, need all blended inside of you, something that had you arching against him despite the ache in your chest.

Mike pulled back slightly before thrusting into you again, the movement rough and unrelenting. His hand gripped your thigh, holding you in place as he set a punishing rhythm, each thrust hitting deep and hard.

Your hands slid to his back, fisting in his shirt as you tried to muffle the sounds escaping your lips. The last thing you needed was someone walking in on you and Mike like this, locked in a battle of lust and emotions that neither of you could control.

"Say you're mine," he growled against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. "Say it."

You didn't answer, your head thrown back as his hips snapped against yours.

"Say it," he repeated, his voice rough and commanding

"I hate you," you gasped, though the words lacked conviction.

"No, you don't," he shot back, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. "Say it."

You broke, your voice cracking as you moaned, "I'm yours."

The words seemed to spur him on, his pace quickening as he held you tighter, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was just as desperate as his movements. You kissed him back with everything you had, pouring your anger and love and need into him as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

When you finally came, your entire body tensing as pleasure crashed over you. Mike wasn't far behind, his movements becoming erratic before he buried himself inside you one last time, a guttural groan escaping as he came.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. The air between you was heavy, charged with unspoken emotions.

Finally, Mike spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry,” his voice so quiet you almost didn't hear it.

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. He looked... broken. The confident, cocky Mike Munroe was gone, replaced by a man who was baring himself entirely, leaving every flaw and fear exposed.

"I want to hate you. God, I want to hate you for what you did. For lying to me. But—" You sighed, your fingers curling into his shirt. "I don't think I can." you admitted, your voice steady but low.

His hands tightened ever so slightly on your waist, relief flickering across his face before it was replaced with remorse. "I'm gonna make it up to you," he said, his tone firm. "Every damn day if I have to. I swear."

You wanted to believe him. And maybe, despite everything, you already did. But trust wasn't something that could be rebuilt overnight, and you both knew it.

Stepping away from the wall, you let your hands fall to your sides. Mike followed your movement, his hands still hovering, as though afraid to touch you without your permission. You gave him a small nod, a silent reassurance, and he finally relaxed, stepping back just enough to give you space.

"Let's go," you said after a beat, pulling your shirt back into place and brushing at the wrinkles.

He frowned, confused. "Go where?"

"To that chalet Josh mentioned," you said simply, glancing toward the window. "Want to get away for a bit?"

Mike blinked, surprised, but he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, of course."

You grabbed your coat from the bed, pulling it on as you headed for the door. Mike followed, hesitating for a moment before tentatively reaching for your hand. You let him take it, though the gesture felt heavier now, weighted with unspoken promises and unresolved tension.

The two of you stepped out into the cold, the snow crunching underfoot as you made your way back to the trail. The walk was quiet, but it wasn't the same silence as before. There was something unspoken between you, a fragile truce that held for now. The anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but so was the love, the connection that had grown between you over the past year.

You glanced at Mike. He caught your gaze, offering you a small, tentative smile. It wasn't his usual smirk, full of bravado and charm. It was quieter, softer, and somehow more real.

You returned the smile, albeit faintly, before looking ahead again.

For now, it felt like maybe, you could find your way back to each other.

And maybe that was enough. For now.

Note: if you liked this, please leave a comment. I love reading them <3

[proxythe]

honestly, with everything that’s happened, it almost feels like the universe has been playing pranks on us.

[slasherscream]

Can you do some more until dawn characters (yandere please) like you’re trying on clothes at the mall and ask their opinion?

YANDERE UNTIL DAWN CHARACTERS + READER IS TRYING ON CLOTHES

A/N: thank you for reading my until dawn content! it's such a small fandom these days, comments/reblogs/anon reviews/asks are appreciated as they let me know people are still reading these. 

- Josh has an excellent eye for aesthetics. He may not know all the words/names for the types of clothes you look good in but he recognizes them right away. He’ll try and describe something you should get, give up, wander off, then come back with examples of what he meant while you’re in the dressing room. If the shopping trip is under four hours he can remain locked in the entire time. This is the strength of will and character that comes with being the big brother to two little sisters who got his driving license first. He’s spent entire lifetimes at the mall hyping up the twins. He knows what to do. Overall helpfulness: 8/10.

- Sam loves spending quality time with you. Quality time is one of her preferred love languages, in fact. She picks you up for your shopping day with your favorite coffee shop order in hand, from the best place in town. She’s good with little details like that. You can always count on her to give you her honest opinion on what you pick out. She’s gentle about it, but she’ll never let you wear something she thinks is unflattering. She’s also mindful of waste consumption. With Sam’s help you wind up picking things you love, are comfortable wearing, and that you’ll actually use. Not a penny wasted, no matter how much you spend. Overall helpfulness: 10/10. 

- Chris could not possibly, in any version of reality, fix his mouth to give you a criticism about any of your choices. Let alone choices about how you will go about decorating your body. He’s lucky he gets to look at you. It’s an honor! Thank you for honoring him! Every time you step out of the dressing room you will get the exact same answer, very enthusiastically, in the same tone: “That looks GREAT, babe!” You’ll be ready to kill him thirty minutes in. Absolutely worthless feedback. You’ll have to get help from the salespeople who work there for opinions. If you want a ‘yes man’ this is your guy! Overall helpfulness: 3/10. 

Hannah is another sap. She’s more helpful than Chris, but only by the slightest margin. If something doesn’t look good she’ll be able to stutter her way around to it…. eventually. She’s nearly petrified at the thought of upsetting you. Never-mind the fact that you’ve asked her how the top looks on you five times now. “Well…. I mean… how do YOU think it looks, Y/N?” As if you’d be asking if you could come up with an opinion yourself. You’ll wind up leaving with only a few items. You’ll have to come back with a friend in a few days. You may need a new wardrobe, but if you need help picking it out, you’ll need a different set of eyes. Overall helpfulness: 4/10.

- Emily is going to be honest to the point that, yes, it will hurt your feelings a little… if you’re lucky. Mileage may vary. If you’re particularly sensitive she’ll hurt your feelings a lot. But god forbid you start trying to take someone nicer shopping with you. She’ll throw the hissy fit of the century when she finds out. Yes, when, and not if. Emily manages to find out everything you try to keep from her. Everything. On one hand you’ll wind up looking the best you’ve ever looked. Your entire wardrobe suits you perfectly. She even buys/picks out things that you’ll like, in your style, even if she finds the style personally distasteful. That’s how much she loves you. It just has to suit you, or else she will say something, and the way she says it is never very nice. You’ll look incredible, but at what cost to your mental health? Overall helpfulness: 8/10. 

- Mike isn't very enthusiastic about the activity, but likes the good boyfriend points it garners him. Thus, he will come along whenever you bid him to do so. He’s only got about two and a half hours of shopping in him though, so try and have an idea of what you want to get in your mind. Before you arrive at the stores, please. If you take a long lunch break he can go back for another two hours but this is his hard limit. Knows well enough what you already look good in. Or when something looks downright awful on you. He does struggle a little to help if you’re wanting to try a completely new style. He’s as lost as you. The more underground/alternative/particular the style you want to try is, the worse the advice gets. If you’re just doing a wardrobe refresher this is your man. Overall helpfulness: 6/10. 

- Beth makes shopping relaxing. You’ll stay as long as you need in order to get everything you need. She probably had you make a Pinterest board before you guys went out so that you’d be able to refer back to it. She knows getting into the stores can wipe your mind clean of what you needed/wanted to get. She’ll have you guys stop for lunch as well, but then you’re right back at it! She likes seeing your style evolve and change. Her feedback is honest, but gentle. It won’t ever feel like a criticism of your body, just the clothing. You walk out satisfied and always happier than when you came in together. Overall helpfulness: 10/10. 

- Jessica is in her element here. Honestly, Jessica drags you shopping with her more than you’ll ever drag her shopping. Spending time together means a lot to Jessica. She never takes it for granted. Thus, she always tries to make any activity, but especially repeat ones like shopping, fun. She probably has a shopping playlist she made for the two of you. You both wear one wireless earbud and get to movie montage with each other. Watch out if the Princess Diaries songs or something Hip-hop comes on, she’ll start dancing to make you laugh. Her feedback is upbeat and positive, but honest. She hypes you up like crazy when you come out wearing something that makes you look really hot! Wolf whistles and everything, your face will be burning up as you flee back into the safety of the dressing room. “Baby, come back! You look smoking!” Overall helpfulness: 9/10. 

- Matt knows absolutely nothing about fashion. He tries his very best to help, but he’s at a loss. Only if something very obviously doesn’t suit you will he be able to veto it for you. “I dunno… maybe it’s a little awkward in the arms or…. something?” You’ll have to take a few breaths. However, if something looks good, he can absolutely be a hype man! His eyes light up, he takes your hand, makes you do a spin. All the attention is enough to make you kick your feet and giggle. He can compliment you all day long. To his credit, he can compliment you specifically enough on what looks good. Even if it’s still a little vague. “The color of this makes you look really… wow! You know?” You’ll be able to figure out he means jewel tones make your skin look glowy one of these days. For now, at least you know your boyfriend thinks you’re gorgeous no matter what you wear. Overall helpfulness: 5/10.

[trulyhblue]

INAPPROPRIATE

leah williamson x arsenal! reader

warnings — tiny angst, annoyed! Leah, Emma Hayes, Chelsea, sorta fluff, coarse language, mention of injury scare.

A/N — in light of Lee’s birthday!!!! short one today, sorry! Thought I would add some spice to this. Emma Hayes needs to realize that pretty much all of woso have dated each other, including her own players lol. there is a mention of Bug, which is a character in one of my stories. Just for context, that is Caitlin Foord’s daughter.

___________________

After hearing Emma Hayes yap on about her opinion on footballers' relationships, you found yourself subjected to a pretty pissed-off Leah Williamson.

Today was the London derby, a long-awaited revenge for Chelsea, it seemed, as the Arsenal bus arrived outside the stadium. Seas of blue and red treaded the stands — you caught sight of a couple of jerseys with your number plastered on the back. Leah was holding your waist as you wandered through the mob of fans reaching for autographs and pictures, a cold facade planted across her face.

Leah was always solemn before games. She was a serious contender, North London bred, with a serious competitive nature that no one could break down.

When you moved to Arsenal from your childhood club, you instantly caught onto Leah’s prominent soberness. Every player knew that if they didn't show up for a game and give it their all, their position would falter. It wasn't like any player with a job as a professional ever thought to underperform, but Leah was an exemption from sincerity. You couldn't joke with her the same way you could during team bonding. You would be stupid to slack off during training or talk to an exaggerated extent when Leah was running beside you. The Lioness Captain copped none of it, and there was no exception for you, her girlfriend.

The woman had woken up with an eminent frown playing on her lips. This was arguably the most important game of the WSL season, and with Leah starting after a long time away, there was a newfound angst set in your shared apartment.

Not only that — the stress Leah had put on herself to perform exceptionally — but the media spotlight Chelsea’s Emma Hayes has put on herself after a certain interview regarding coach-player, and player-player relationships.

From your viewpoint, it didn't really affect you. Everyone had their own opinions based on who dated whom. There was no stopping someone for sharing what they thought, so you simply shook it off as soon as you watched the clip. You did feel bad for the select few of the Blue’s team that were dating players. To not have the personal backing of your coach wouldn't be the most relieving sensation. You knew that the fans were in upheaval regarding her comments, but to be honest, there was nothing anyone could do to stop her.

But, it seemed that Leah did not share the same insight as you.

“She can't just go ‘round saying that.” She barked, hiding the Emirates logo as she crossed her arms in disapproval. “It's barmy, that's what it is.”

You were side by side in the change rooms. Leah was already in her kit, the Chelsea socks sticking out like a sore thumb. You were tugging up your shorts, your shirt yet to cover your sports bra. You sighed, having been hearing Leah go on for the best part of the morning.

“You shouldn't let it worry you, Lee.” You muttered, sorting through your bag, ignoring your girlfriend’s huff. “I don't think she meant any harm—”

“Well she did, didn't she?” She retorted.

You pulled your jersey off the hanger, slipping it on. “Leah, c’mon.”

“Why does she feel the need to talk about us, huh? She should be more worried about the amount of injuries on her team, not about what they do in their free time.”

“Leah, that's enough.” You snapped, your hands planted firmly on your hips. The blonde in front of you looked subtly started by your sudden change of demeanour. “Don't worry about it. It's not worth your time.”

You were currently faced with the nerves of the game, on top of other things like international duties, and the Olympics. To have Leah in this mood, in such a critical time like this, was not only overwhelming but downright anxiety-inducing.

Leah didn't answer you. Instead, she tied her laces and crossed the room, exiting into the tunnel for kick-off. This gave you a few minutes to breathe, to centre yourself. You weren't starting, but your nerves were rising by the time you took your seat next to Alessia.

As soon as the game started, it was clear that Chelsea had it covered. Alessia joked that it was the socks, but you could see by the look on Lee’s face that she was fuming from something other than the odd black that covered her shin pads. You warmed up along the sideline, carrying Caitlin’s bug by your side when you saw her growing restless near Frida.

Unlike the rest of your teammates, you bit their nails at the painful game in front of them, you tried to hone your focus on keeping Bug’s hood down, making her giggle instead of wince at the tackles Caitlin was receiving.

You had been benched for the past few games, your hamstring giving you grief over training. But you were anticipating Jonas to call you over. You waited for the flick of his hand, wanting to make things right on the pitch.

The second-half whistle couldn't have come slower. The starting eleven were frustrated, angry, and quiet when entering the changing rooms, an eerie aura lingering inside. You held onto Bug all the way until Caitlin took over, trudging over to Viv, who happily took the girl up to the stands to watch. Jonas had told you and Emily that you’d be put on, so you were preparing yourself for what was to come.

You tried not to interact with Leah. It was an unspoken rule that unless it was personal, it was not to be said directly, especially when you were losing. But the blonde was leaning nearer to you the closer you were meant to be out on the pitch once more. She made the effort to tug at the hem of your shorts, and hold both your shoulders as she stood behind you, listening to the plan for the rest of the game. You pushed your back into her chest, letting her hug you from behind. She squeezed affectionately, and you noticed the subtle unravelling of her tense shoulders. Her features smoothed when she found out you were replacing Victoria in the midfield, and she made sure to hold your hand as you walked back into the stadium.

“You're doing great, Lee.” You managed to say, hoping that your substitution would be before the sixtieth minute. “Just be careful near the wing. It's very congested and you should wait for the midfield to sort it, alright?”

Leah cared deeply about her career and strived for greatness in all that she did. There was nothing that she couldn't achieve without perfection in her eyes. Many people said that you would bring her down to Earth, and remind her that mistakes are human. But there was only so much you could do, and you found that simply telling the girl that she was making the right decisions, treating her softly, was a tactic no game plan could ever beat.

You were about to find your way down the sidelines, getting ready to finish your warm-up before you were subbed on. Both teams had started filing out of their respected halftime seminars, Chelsea looking as confident as ever. Arsenal were sauntering out with much determination, the spite and inherent desire for justice spewing from the gunner’s crowd. Leah and you were near the entrance of the tunnel, standing on the edge of the field in what seemed like your own personal bubble.

Jonas had taken a seat near the rest of the officials, but Chelsea’s Emma Hayes was standing not far from where the two of you stood, skimming her surroundings vaguely without giving too much away. You could feel the irritation radiating off Leah as soon as the woman was in your sight. You both knew the coach was trying to look at you, without it being bitterly obvious, but it seemed to make the tension rise all the more. Your girlfriend found solace in kissing your forehead, running her hands down your sides painstakingly slow. You felt your cheeks go red, the blush filming over your face when Hayes’ eyes darted away.

“Leah.” You warned her wandering hands, squirming in the taller girl’s potent grip around your hips.

You pulled taunt against her, sighing when she loosened. She ignored your scolding look. A smirk was aligned on her lips, threatening to spill the cocky remarks relieving her lips. You watched her run over to the rest of the team, a meek smile matching hers.

God, you couldn't wait to go home.

_________________

A/N — again, sorry it's really short but I wanted to put something out xxxxxx

[kashlat2]

I’m too lazy to finish this so…