#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

[kashlat2]

I’m too lazy to finish this so…

[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!!!

[jossamology]

josh washington - until dawn remake (2024)

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

make sure to credit me.

[poguelands]

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

[signorcerullo]

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! ❤️

[sharkboy305]

[lefteagleblizzard]

ℑ𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔞 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔨 Mike munroe x male reader

Summary: Emily and Jess sent Mike as a charm offensive to lure you in, a prank to laugh about later. It was supposed to be simple. But somewhere between his teasing words and the way your eyes lit up when you laughed, the lines blurred. Now, with guilt gnawing at his chest and feelings he didn’t anticipate clouding his judgment, Mike faces a choice he’s never had to make.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. No use of Y/N. Friends to lovers. Love confession. Lots of angst. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Dom Mike Munroe. Bottom male reader. Hate sex. Anal sex.

Words count: 6000

You adjusted the blanket you had draped over Chris, snickering as you admired the crude doodles scrawled across his face. Mustaches, poorly drawn glasses, a pair of devilish horns. With a quick swipe of the marker on the ground, you added your initials near his temple.

You stepped back, biting back a laugh at the masterpiece you contributed to create, before deciding to clean up the empty bottles littered around him and Josh.

Quietly gathering them, you carried the clinking glass to the counter, tossing them in the trash with a satisfying clatter. Just as you turned around, ready to grab the last few items, you bumped into a wall of muscles.

Startled, you took a step back as a hand grabbed your arm to steady you. "Easy there," Mike Munroe said, his voice dripping with amusement. His lips curved into that signature grin of his. "Falling for me already?"

Your initial shock faded, replaced by an eyeroll as you lightly swatted his chest. "In your dreams," you retorted, his hand lingered a moment longer on your arm than necessary.

You crossed your arms as you tilted your head. "What are you even doing down here? I thought you were upstairs with everyone else, not lurking around like a stalker."

Mike chuckled, leaning against the counter again, his arms crossing casually. "I got bored. Figured I'd find better company down here."

You raised an eyebrow, your lips twitching into a smirk. "Better company? You sure you didn't just get lost?"

He laughed, the sound low and warm. "Touché. Guess I deserved that one." His gaze swept over you, noting the way your eyes held a mix of amusement and curiosity. "But seriously, why are you always off by yourself? Not much of a party person?"

His words caught you off guard and for a moment, you didn't know how to respond. It felt like he was really trying to see you.

You tried to play it cool, shrugging lightly. "I'm fine keeping to myself. I just don't really do the whole 'center of attention' thing. Let everyone else have the spotlight."

Mike tilted his head, his smirk softening into something more contemplative. "Must be nice, not caring what people think."

"Who says I don't care?" you countered, raising an eyebrow at him. "I just don't think their approval is worth the effort. That's different."

His grin faltered for a moment, and he gave you a small nod. "Fair point. I guess I could learn a thing or two from you."

You narrowed your eyes at him, studying his expression. "You, learn something? From me? Now that's a first."

"You gotta admit, though, being around people's not all bad. You might even like it if you give it a shot." He laughed while taking a seat right next to you, his knee bumped yours lightly as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping just a notch. "Or maybe you just need the right kind of company."

His tone was teasing, but there was something in his gaze that made your breath catch.

You blinked, the faint blush creeping up your neck betraying the calm expression you tried to maintain.

"You really don't give up, do you?" you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. The corner of your mouth twitched into a faint smile despite yourself.

"Not when it's worth it," he replied smoothly, his grin softening just slightly. "And I think you're worth it."

You weren't sure what to say, your mind racing as you tried to process the sudden shift in his demeanor.

Mike tilted his head, his grin softening as he studied you. "How has it been this far? Surprised yet?"

You shrugged, letting your eyes wander around the room before returning to him. "Some parts have been better than I expected."

He chuckled, but there was a curious edge to his expression, like he wasn't entirely sure what you meant. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his attention settle over you. Right now, he seemed… present, like he was actually listening, waiting for your answer.

"Like this," you said finally, gesturing between the two of you. "Just… talking. Hanging out. I didn't expect anyone to actually care enough to notice me sitting off on my own. Let alone come and bug me about it."

Mike laughed, a short, warm sound. "Hey, I don't bug. I charm. Big difference."

You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered. "Sure. Whatever you say."

"I mean it, though," you added after a beat, your voice softer now. "I didn't think anyone would bother. Most people just don't pay attention like that."

Mike blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in your tone. He found himself watching you, really watching you, as though he was only now starting to see you clearly.

"They're just idiots." He said finally, his voice quieter than usual.

You laughed, shaking your head. "I don't think it's that. Most people don't really look past what's easy to see. The surface stuff. You're either loud enough or wild enough to keep their attention, or you're invisible."

Mike's chest tightened at that, though he wasn't sure why. He shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair. "What, you think I'm loud and wild?"

You looked at him then, really looked, and something in your gaze made his breath catch. "I think that's what people expect from you," you said evenly. "And you're good at giving them what they want."

Mike froze, the playful smirk sliding off his face as your words hit him like a cold splash of water. He wasn't used to being seen like that, wasn't used to someone actually peeling back the layers instead of just enjoying the show.

"You make it sound like a bad thing," he said eventually, leaning closer to your seated position. His voice lacked its usual confidence and was mostly curious.

"It's not bad," you said, your tone careful, measured. "I just don't think it's all there is to you."

His stomach twisted and he didn't like how much it got to him. He wasn't supposed to care about this, wasn't supposed to let someone dig their way under his skin like this.

You definitely weren’t like the people who laughed at his jokes without really hearing them, or flirted back without getting to know him better.

Mike leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the counter as he searched your face. "You've got me all figured out, huh?" he asked, his voice low, teasing.

You smiled faintly, your gaze steady. "Not all of you. But I see enough."

“And what do you see?” His voice was rough, his throat dry as his heart pounded harder than it should. Tilting his head, he let his grin return—pearly white, handsome, and this time, unmistakably genuine.

You hesitated, as if weighing your words, and he hated how much he cared about what you were going to say next.

"I see someone who works too hard to make people like him," you said softly. "Someone who's always 'on,' like if you stop for a second, someone might see something you don't want them to."

Mike stared at you, his breath catching in his chest. He wanted to laugh it off, to crack a joke, to shift the focus back to you—but he couldn't.

"And I see someone who's better than they think they are," you continued, your voice steady despite the way your eyes softened. "Someone who doesn't have to try so hard to make people like him, because… he's already amazing on his own."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe.

He swallowed hard, trying to find anything to say, but all he could manage was a faint, breathless laugh. "You're full of shit, you know that?"

You Laughed, your eyes crinkling at the corners. "Maybe. But I mean it."

Mike's chest ached in a way that felt almost unbearable and he had to look away, had to glance down at his hands.

When he finally looked back at you, his grin was gone, replaced by a soft smile.

His hand reached out on instinct, brushing against yours where it rested on the counter. The touch was brief, barely there, but it sent a jolt through both of you. You froze, your eyes darting to his and he could see the way your breath caught, the way your lips parted just slightly in surprise.

And then he knew.

He'd been right. You liked him. The signs were all there, subtle but unmistakable. The slight flush creeping up your neck. The nervous energy radiating off you in waves.

He'd seen it a hundred times before.

Emily had pointed it out earlier, half-joking, half-jealous. She called you his little admirer, tone sharp and annoyed.

Mike hadn't responded at the time, brushing it off with a laugh and a shrug.

But now, the idea didn't bother him. If anything, it made him feel that warm, satisfying feeling creep into his veins.

Without thinking, Mike took a step closer, his body shifting into your space like it was the most natural thing in the world. His hand, warm and steady, came up to cradle your cheek, his fingers brushing against your skin with a gentleness that caught even him off guard. Your eyes widened slightly, your breath hitching.

His thumb moved against your cheek, slow and deliberate, as his gaze flickered down to your lips. They looked soft, inviting. All he could see, all he could think about, was you.

He hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest as the weight of what he was about to do hit him. This wasn't part of the plan. He wasn't supposed to feel this way. You weren't supposed to matter. He was just supposed to lure you into the room to let everything unfold.

But then you looked at him, your eyes wide and vulnerable, and all of that he was supposed to care about melted away.

When his lips met yours, it was softer than you expected, tentative in a way that belied the confidence he so often exuded. His lips moved against yours with a warmth that melted the space between you and when you didn't pull away, his hesitation crumbled.

You leaned into him, your hands brushing against his chest before gripping the fabric of his shirt. The quiet, almost nervous gesture sent a spark of heat through him and suddenly the kiss wasn't soft anymore. His other hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer with a sense of urgency.

Mike tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding against your bottom lip before you parted for him.

A low, guttural sound escaped his throat, a sound he didn't realize he could make but that only spurred him on. His grip on you tightened slightly, his fingers pressing into your waist as his lips moved with more fervor, more need. He kissed you like he was trying to consume you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before soothing it with another deep, heated kiss. You gasped softly against him and he groaned at the sound, his chest tightening with something he couldn't name.

Mike's hand moved from your cheek, his fingers sliding down the side of your neck and across your jawline. He tilted your head slightly, giving himself better access to your mouth and kissed you with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

Your fingers slipped into his hair, tugging lightly, and he broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as his breaths came in heavy, uneven bursts.

He pulled away not because he wanted to. It was because he had to. His chest heaved with the effort of catching his breath, his lips red and swollen as he stared at you with wide, conflicted eyes. His hand lingered on your waist, his fingers twitching slightly as though reluctant to let go.

"Meet me later," he said, his voice low and husky, the words practically a purr. A sly grin tugging at his lips. "We can… pick up where we left off. All night long, if you're up for it."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the heat rising in your cheeks as you nodded, unable to form a coherent response.

Mike stood frozen in place, his lips twitching into a grin that felt more like a reflex than anything real. Your reaction to his words was almost too much for him to handle. He didn't know why he found it so captivating, but he couldn't deny the way his chest tightened at the sight.

He leaned back casually, trying to shake off the unfamiliar weight in his chest, convincing himself it was just the alcohol coursing through him, mixing with the buzz of the evening.

With a quick peck on his cheek, you turned and hurried toward the stairs, your pulse racing as you disappeared from sight.

Mike watched you go, his grin fading as soon as you were out of view, his grip on the counter tightening. Chest rising and falling as he struggled to process what had just happened. The kiss, the way your lips had felt against his was still imprinted in his mind, replaying in vivid, maddening detail.

The guilt clawed at the edges of his thoughts, pulling him back to the reality of the situation. The prank. The stupid, cruel plan he'd agreed to without a second thought.

What the hell was he doing? This wasn't part of the plan. You weren't supposed to be anything more than a target, a prank to laugh about later. But now… now he wasn't so sure. It wasn't just attraction. It was something purer, something he hadn't seen in a long time.

You trusted him.

And God, that made the guilt so much worse.

He sighed, leaning back against the counter as he tried to shake off the nagging guilt tugging at his chest. His cheek still tingled from where your lips had been, and he couldn't help but lift a hand to touch the spot, as if trying to confirm that it had actually happened.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, his fingers curling into a fist as he dropped his hand back to his side.

The chair he'd been sitting in creaked slightly as he shifted on it, his foot catching on the edge. He cursed under his breath, his nerves shot in a way that he didn't quite understand.

When the door creaked open and you stepped inside, Mike froze. The sight of you made his chest tighten unexpectedly. You looked nervous, hands fidgeting slightly at your sides as you closed the door behind you. You called his name softly, your voice hesitant but warm, and something in him twisted painfully.

"Hey," he said, stepping forward before he could stop himself. His hands reached out, wrapping around yours, and he held them gently, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles.

“I was hoping you'd come," he said, his voice low and sincere and for once, it wasn’t an act.

You smiled at him, that same shy, trusting smile that had been chipping away at his defermes since the moment you bumped into him downstairs.

His hand rested softly against your cheek, and you pressed into it, craving the connection. His thumb brushed lightly over your skin, and the way you closed your eyes for just a moment made his heart ache.

You hesitated, your lips parting as you tried to find the words.

Mike tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing as his thumb brushed lightly over your skin. "Hey," he murmured softly, his voice low and coaxing. "What is it? You're nervous?"

The tenderness in his voice was enough to push you over the edge. You took a shaky breath, talking in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper.

"I don't know how to explain it, Mike, but I’m glad of being with you."

You glanced away, embarrassed by the weight of your own confession.

Mike's breath hitched and his grip on your cheek faltered. His heart pounded in his chest, guilt clawing at him.

Your gaze lifted to meet his again, your eyes wide and sincere, and it broke something inside him. "You make me feel like I can just… be myself," you said, barely above a whisper now. "Like I'm not invisible for once. And I just wanted you to know that."

You were laying yourself bare, offering him a piece of your heart without hesitation. And all he could think about was how undeserving he was of it.

A broken whisper left his lips that only you managed to catch.

"Get out."

The words were hurried, desperate, and the moment they left his lips, he saw the confusion flicker across your face. He couldn't let you stay, not after you just handed him your trust so freely, so openly. Because he knew what was about to happen, and it would ruin everything.

"Turn around and go," he whispered again too lowly, his voice trembling now.

You stepped back slightly, your brows furrowing as you tried to make sense of his sudden change in demeanor. But before you could say anything, the door swung open and Sam stepped in.

"It’s just a stupid prank," she said, her voice sharp and cutting through the tension as she flickers the lights on and suddenly, the room was filled with laughter and movement as Jess, Emily and the others stepped out from their hiding spots.

Mike watched as your face crumbled, the hurt and humiliation flooding your features. It hit him like a knife to the chest, the raw betrayal in your eyes cutting deeper than he thought possible.

You didn't say anything. You just turned and bolted from the room.

The storm howled outside, the windows rattling against the force of the wind. You blinked awake, your heart racing from the sound of a branch scraping against the glass. The room was dark save for the faint glow of the clock on the nightstand. It read 4:03 AM.

Your chest felt hollow, but your eyes still burned, raw and swollen from the tears that had refused to stop. All night, you'd replayed it in your mind. You'd never felt smaller, more humiliated, more betrayed in your life. You couldn't stay here. Not with them.

Not with him.

Dragging yourself out of bed, every movement felt like wading through quicksand. Your limbs were heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and the emotional toll of the night. Quietly, you packed your bag, stuffing your belongings inside and pulling on your jacket, fumbling with the zipper. Your breath came in shallow bursts as you stood in front of the door, willing yourself to move.

You padded down the stairs, the cabin eerily quiet in the early morning hours. Reaching the bottom step, you spotted the front door, your escape, and quickened your pace. But then, you froze.

There he was.

Mike was slumped over at the kitchen counter, his head resting on one hand, the other loosely holding an empty beer bottle. His clothes were the same ones he'd worn last night, wrinkled and disheveled, his shirt unbuttoned slightly at the collar. Even in sleep, his brow was furrowed, tension radiating from his hunched posture.

Had he stayed up all night? The thought flickered briefly, unbidden, but you shook it away. The floor creaked beneath your foot, and Mike's snores stopped abruptly. His head shot up, bleary eyes locking onto you.

For a moment, neither of you moved. His expression shifted almost immediately, body tensing as realization dawned. He straightened up, setting the bottle down on the counter with a soft clink. "Hey," he said, his voice rough and thick with exhaustion.

You ignored him, your face hard and emotionless as you walked to the door, hands trembling slightly as you pulled on your gloves. Mike shifted awkwardly, running a hand through his hair as his mind scrambled for something to say.

When he noticed you pulling on your gloves, realization hit him like a punch to the gut. "Wait—you're not seriously thinking about going out in this weather, are you?" His voice was sharper than he intended, laced with worry and frustration.

You stiffened, but you didn't stop, your back still turned to him. "I didn't know you cared that much," you said curtly, your tone cold and biting. The words were meant to hurt, and they did.

Mike winced, his jaw tightening as guilt twisted in his chest. He opened his mouth to argue, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he stepped closer, lowering his voice as he tried again. "Look, I get it, okay? I screwed up. I shouldn't have—" He stopped, running a hand down his face, visibly frustrated. "I shouldn't have done any of it. It was stupid."

Your breath hitched at his confession, and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to stay strong. Tears blurred your vision, and you gritted your teeth, hating how vulnerable you felt. Without a word, you grabbed the door handle and yanked it open, the icy wind cutting through the room like a blade.

The cold outside was brutal, an unrelenting force that immediately wrapped itself around you the second you stepped out of the cabin. The icy wind cut against your cheeks, stinging your skin and making your eyes water even more than they already were. Your jacket barely felt like a barrier against the blizzard's ferocity, but you didn't care. You just needed to get away from him, away from the cabin.

Your fists clenched at your sides as you pushed forward, the snow crunching beneath your boots in a steady, determined rhythm.

"Wait!" Mike shouted, panic lacing his voice as he jogged outside. "Holy frosty snowballs, this is an illegal level of cold!" Mike cursed under his breath.

You didn't stop. You didn't even turn around.

"Are you seriously doing this right now? Stop!" He shouted again, louder this time, his voice hoarse as he tried to compete with the howling wind.

His words fell on deaf ears as you marched forward and he groaned audibly, his frustration spilling out as he turned back to grab his jacket. Muttering curses under his breath, he shrugged it on quickly and bolted after you, the icy wind hitting him like a slap to the face.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, squinting against the blizzard as he spotted your figure. You were barely visible now, a dark silhouette against the endless swirl of white. His chest tightened, both from the cold and the fear that he wouldn't reach you in time.

"Hey!" he shouted, his voice cracking as he ran after you. His boots slipped slightly on the snow, but he caught himself. "Stop! Just stop for one damn second!"

You kept moving, your pace quickening as his voice grew closer. The sound of him calling after you only fueled your determination to get as far away as possible. Your breathing was ragged, each exhale visible in the frigid air, but you didn't slow down.

"You're seriously just gonna walk out into a goddamn blizzard because you're mad? You think this is smart? It’s not gonna fix anything!" Mike yelled, his tone rising with frustration.

Still, you didn't respond.

Mike let out a low, guttural groan, frustration and worry tangling together until they made his voice tremble. “For God’s sake, you’re so damn stubborn!” he snapped, his strides lengthening as he hurried to close the gap between you. “Don’t want to talk? Fine. Have it your way. But if you think I’m letting you freeze your ass off out here, think again. You’re not shaking me off that easily!”

You faltered slightly at his words, your steps slowing.

Mike seized on the brief hesitation, his frustration boiling over. "Why can't you just stop for two seconds and let me talk? You think this is easy for me? You think I don't hate myself for what happened?" He yelled again, and this time, his voice cracked as the wind carried his words toward you.

He let out a harsh breath, his boots crunching against the snow as he finally closed the distance between you. "You're not the only one hurting here, alright? But I can't fix it if you won't let me! I can't—" His voice broke completely, and he stopped in his tracks, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

Finally, you stopped.

His breath got caught in your throat as you slowly turned around to face him. Your cheeks streaked with tears and your eyes burned with anger and pain.

"What do you want from me, Michael?" you demanded, your voice trembling with emotion. "Forgiveness? Do you have any idea how much you hurt me? You made me feel like I was just some joke to you!"

Mike's chest tightened painfully as your words washed over him. He opened his mouth to respond, but you didn't give him a chance.

"I thought you were different," you continued, your voice breaking as tears streamed down your face. "I was so stupid to think you actually cared."

Mike's heart shattered as he stepped closer, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "No," he said, his voice desperate. "No, that's not—that's not what it was. I didn't mean—fuck, I didn't mean for it to go that far. I was stupid, okay? I was a complete jerk. I care about you so much it scares the shit out of me."

Mike took another step closer, his voice breaking as he said, "I was too busy trying to be the guy everyone expects me to be. I hate myself for it. I hate that I hurt you."

Mike hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, his hands trembling as they cupped your face, his gaze searching yours with a mixture of desperation and guilt that only fueled your anger.

You hated him so much for what he'd done. For how he'd made you feel. But you hated yourself even more for how much you still wanted him, even after everything.

You pushed him hard against his chest, the impact barely moving him but satisfying some small part of your anger, your fists pounding weakly against his chest as fresh tears streamed down your face.

He didn't try to stop you as you hit him again, your blows growing weaker and more frantic. "I hate you," you choked out, your fists still pressed against his chest. "I hate you so much."

"I know," Mike whispered, his voice cracking. When your legs buckled slightly and you leaned into him, he made his choice. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close despite your protests and your body collapsed against him, fists weakly pounding against his chest.

You blinked up at him through a haze of tears, his face impossibly close, every raw emotion laid bare in his expression. It struck you like a blow to the chest. So open, so unguarded it made your heart clench. And then, without warning, he closed the remaining distance and captured your lips in a kiss.

The kiss was sudden, desperate, and completely overwhelming. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that took your breath away.

Instinctively, you pushed against his chest, trying to pull away, trying to cling to the anger and hurt that had protected you.

But he didn't let go.

His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing away the tears on your cheeks as he deepened the kiss.

And just like that, the walls you'd tried so hard to hold up crumbled. Your hands gripped the fabric of his jacket, pulling him closer as you kissed him back with equal intensity. Every ounce of anger, hurt, and longing you'd felt poured into the kiss, the emotions too strong to keep bottled up any longer.

Mike's arms wrapped around you tightly, his body pressing against yours as the kiss deepened even further.

The kiss deepened, his lips were demanding, bruising, yet reverent. Contradictions that mirrored the knot of fury and desire tangling in your chest. His tongue swept against your lower lip, a plea that demanded no permission but instead undid you entirely. You parted for him and the moment his tongue slipped inside, the fury within you exploded into something hotter, darker, and so much hungrier.

His mouth was intoxicating, his taste faintly smoky from whatever drink had numbed him earlier. You hated it, you hated him—but God, did your body crave him. He tilted your face up, angling himself deeper as his tongue curled against yours in a dance that was equal parts battle and surrender.

You gasped, finally breaking the kiss to pull in a ragged breath. His lips chased yours as he whispered brokenly, "Please. Let me. Let me make this right."

Your fingers curled into his hair, yanking sharply and he groaned into your mouth. The sound hit you low in your stomach, heat pooling where you'd sworn you'd never want him again. Your voice was hoarse, tinged with bitterness and something dangerously close to surrender. "You think a kiss fixes this? That I'll just—"

Mike growled low, cutting you off with another kiss that silenced your protests. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, sharp enough to sting, before he pulled back just enough to rasp against your mouth, "No. But I'm not stopping until I make you see how sorry I am."

His words made you shudder, the ache of betrayal warring with the raw need coursing through you. You hated him. You loved him. And when his strong hands slid down your sides to grip your waist and pull you flush against him, your body gave up the fight even if your mind hadn't.

The storm raged around you as he dragged you back toward the cabin, each hurried step a clumsy clash of limbs and desperate kisses. Snow clung to your clothes, cold seeping through layers, but the furnace of Mike's body against yours burned away every icy sting. He muttered against your lips, his breath fogging between kisses, "Inside… I swear I'll… fuck, I’m gonna lose a limb out here."

Your lips twitched, an involuntary reaction to the pathetic little joke. He caught the flicker of amusement, his gaze softening and you hated how it warmed you despite everything.

As soon as the cabin door slammed shut behind you, you shoved him hard, slamming him against the door, your hands curling into his jacket as you kissed him with a fury that bordered on violence. He met you with equal intensity, his hands finding your hips and yanking you against him. The solid heat of him, his growing hardness pressing insistently against yours only fueled your anger and your desire.

A groan rumbled in his chest as your teeth scraped against the stubble on his jaw, marking him as he had marked you.

One of your hands tangled in his messy hair, tugging sharply, while the other slipped under his jacket, feeling the taut lines of his body. He was hot, impossibly warm and solid beneath your touch.

When his hands slid to your ass, kneading roughly before lifting you against the door, a sharp gasp escaped your lips. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, the hard press of his length against your clothed entrance making you shiver. His lips found your neck, sucking and biting down the column of your throat until you were arching into him despite yourself.

"You drive me fucking insane." He groaned again, pressing his hips forward as if to prove a point.

His hands were impatient as they worked to undo your belt, his breath ragged and hot against your ear. "Tell me to stop," he murmured, his voice barely audible but shaking with restrained need. "Tell me to stop and I swear I will."

You didn't. The words tangled on your tongue, caught somewhere between defiance and desire. Instead, you let out a choked moan as his hand slipped beneath your waistband.

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, your neck in full display for him and he kissed and bit down every inch of skin he had access to.

You hated how easily he unraveled you, how your body betrayed you with every gasp and shiver.

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. 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.

Mike cursed under his breath, his fingers moving with a precision that belied the trembling urgency in his touch. His other hand slipped between you, fumbling with his own belt before freeing himself.

He shifted, pressing his hips against yours and you felt the thick length of him brushing against your entrance.

"Say you're mine," he growled, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he began to press inside. The stretch was sharp, burning, and you couldn't stop the gasp that escaped you.

"I hate you," you gasped again, your nails digging into his shoulders.

His thrusts were shallow at first, teasing you open, but when you clenched around him, he lost all sense of control. His hips snapped forward, burying himself inside you with a rough, shuddering groan. The sensation was overwhelming, the thick heat of him dragging against your walls in a way that made your breath hitch and your toes curl.

"You hate me?" Mike rasped, his voice a mix of amusement and need as he began to move, each thrust deliberate and punishing. "Then why do you feel so good around me? Why are you squeezing me so tight?"

Your answer was a broken cry, his name fell from your lips, shaky and desperate and the sound drove him even wilder. His hand slid down to grip your thigh, pulling your leg higher around his waist to angle himself deeper, hitting a spot inside you that sent stars exploding behind your eyelids.

"Tell me," he demanded, his voice hoarse as his movements became frantic. "Tell me you're mine."

Your resolve crumbled, your body trembling as his words pushed you closer to the edge. "I'm yours," you gasped, your voice barely audible over the sound of your bodies colliding.

It was all he needed to hear.

Mike's forehead rested against yours as his hips rolled into you, each thrust deep and deliberate, leaving you gasping for air. The stretch of him was overwhelming, his cock filling you so completely it was almost too much to bear, yet not nearly enough.

"Fuck," he hissed, his voice low and guttural as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wider beneath him. "You're so goddamn tight. Every time I move, you just—" He groaned, his sentence trailing off into a growl as he thrust harder.

You couldn't speak. The words were trapped somewhere in your throat, tangled with the moans and gasps spilling from your lips.

Mike leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I don't deserve you, but fuck if I'm ever letting you go." His voice was hoarse, tinged with awe

You captured his lips in a kiss that was more teeth and tongue than finesse. He groaned into your mouth, his pace faltering for just a moment before he picked it back up, his thrusts growing harder, faster.

"Mike," you gasped, your voice breaking as he hit that perfect spot inside you, the one that made your vision blur and your toes curl. "God, Mike—"

"Yeah?" he panted, his breath hot against your skin as he trailed kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. "Tell me. Tell me what you need, babe."

His hand slid between your bodies, his fingers finding your cock and wrapping around it with a firm, practiced grip.

The sensation was almost too much. His hand moved in time with his thrusts. Every pump of his fist, every roll of his hips sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, and you could feel yourself hurtling toward the edge.

"Look at me," Mike demanded, his voice rough but commanding. "I want to see you when you come. I want to see how good I make you feel." He murmured, his thumb swiping over the head of your cock and making you cry out.

You forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze, and the intensity there nearly undid you. His pupils were blown wide, his face flushed and his expression was a mix of concentration and raw, unfiltered desire. He looked wrecked, and the knowledge that you were the reason for it sent a thrill through you.

A strangled cry left your mouth as you came, your back arching as your release spilled over Mike's hand and your stomach. The world around you blurred, your vision going white as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you trembling and gasping for air.

Mike didn't stop. His movements grew erratic, his thrusts harder and deeper as he chased his own release. The feeling of you tightening around him, your walls fluttering and pulsing, seemed to drive him wild and he let out a low, guttural grunt as he buried himself inside you one last time.

His body tensing as he came, his cock throbbing as he spilled inside you. The heat of him filling you was overwhelming.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin, and you could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your own.

"Holy shit," he finally muttered, his voice muffled but full of awe. He lifted his head just enough to look at you, a quick peck on your lips before he slowly lowered you down, his hands never leaving your waist.

Your fingers curled around the collar of his jacket, pulling him closer until you could feel the heat of his breath against your lips. The weight of his hand settled on your waist. His other hand cradled your neck, his thumb brushing lightly over the sensitive skin just below your jaw, where a deep, angry bruise bloomed from where his lips had claimed you earlier.

Mike's gaze flickered to the mark, his fingers tracing the edge of it with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but the words didn't come. Instead, he frowned, his brows knitting together in confusion as you pulled him, guiding him forward in slow, deliberate steps.

"Where are we going?" He said, his voice low and rough, laced with a mix of curiosity and growing desire. His eyes darted between yours and your lips, dark with lust but softened by a flicker of uncertainty.

You smirked, your hand sliding up to cradle the back of his neck, your fingers threading through his hair as you tilted your head. "What, scared I'm leading you into a trap?" you teased, your tone light but edged with challenge.

His lips twitched into a grin, that signature cocky smirk creeping back onto his face.

You leaned in closer, until your noses nearly brushed, your voice dropping to a whisper. "If I wanted to humiliate you, I'd just tell everyone about how you practically begged me to forgive you."

His laugh was breathless, but the sound warmed something deep in your chest. "Yeah, yeah. You got me,” he muttered, stepping closer, his hand finding your waist again like it belonged there.

The tension between you easing just enough for the banter to feel natural again. But the fire in his eyes didn't dim; if anything, it burned hotter, especially as you reached up, your hands cradling his face.

The change in your touch caught him off guard, and his breath hitched slightly as you pulled him closer. He followed your lead without question, his head dipping down as his lips hovered just inches from yours. The warmth of his breath ghosted over your skin.

"I'm still up for what you proposed earlier," you murmured, your voice soft but steady.

Mike's eyes widened briefly, the weight of your words sinking in. His pupils dilated further, his grip on your waist tightening as though to ground himself. "Yeah?" he rasped, his voice husky barely more than a whisper. "You mean—"

"All night long," you interrupted, echoing his earlier words with a sly smile.

The reaction was immediate. A low groan escaped his throat, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was as desperate as it was passionate. He didn't hold back this time, his hands roaming your body with urgency.

As you pulled him toward your room, his lips never left yours, his kisses messy and insistent, a tangle of teeth and tongue that made your head spin. He broke the kiss just long enough to rasp, "Lead the way, babe, or I swear I'm just gonna take you right here again."

His hand was so warm as you gripped it, pulling him toward the stairs and he followed without hesitation, his eyes locked on you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

By the time you reached your room and shut the door behind you, he was on you, pressing you back against it as his lips found yours again, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue.

Your fingers tugging at his shirt to yank it over his head. "Don't make me wait any longer." You whispered against his mouth, your voice steady despite the rapid pounding of your heart.

He pushed you down on the bed as he positioned himself above you.

The smirk that tugged at his lips was pure Mike Munroe—cocky, confident, and utterly irresistible. "Wouldn't dream of it," he said, his voice low and rough.

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.

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

[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

Small prequel to the story (not necessary for this one)

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.

[proxythe]

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

[kashlat2]

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

[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.

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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.

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