u/Best_Mark_8910

Everyone in this story is 18+

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**Milo was sixteen when the call came—his parents and older brother had been hit head-on by a truck on the highway home from his brother’s soccer match. In the weeks that followed, grief wrapped around him like heavy chains; he’d stare at their empty seats at dinner, forget assignments, and stop showing up to school altogether. At seventeen, with no relatives willing to take him in, he found himself sleeping in alleyways and under park benches, his school bag full of the only clothes he owned.**

**By eighteen, the burn of cheap liquor was the only thing that dulled the ache. He’d hang around convenience stores, sweet-talking or convincing strangers to buy him drinks with whatever spare change he’d scraped together.**

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My main kinks are sweat, football uniforms, spit, musk, hight different’s, hairy guys, edging, risky sex, soft top and chocking (also open to anything else)

My limits are scat, non con and forced drinking and drug usage (none of these are hard limits except scat and vore)

I’d like to brainstorm a bit before we start, just to figure out where we go from where I left off. I’d like this to be more story-focused, yes, there will be smut, but I don’t want it to only be about it.

I only RP on Discord, I write in first person just wrote this in 3rd person for some reason and use both IRL refs and descriptions, and sorry if the prompt wasn’t the best. I quickly wrote this before I forgot it, haha. All I ask when you message is please include your favourite singer, please, and thanks for reading.

I kicked at the slush under the bench, scrolling TikTok for the twelfth time. Alex was late. Again. The arena lights glared behind me, and I could already hear his dumb excuse before he even jogged over, helmet crooked and grin too bright. “Coach, give another pep talk ‘bout ~vibes~?” I said, not looking up. He flopped beside me, knees knocking mine. “Worse. Group hug. Travis legit cried.” I fake-gagged. “Travis cries at car commercials. Shocker.” Alex’s captain had called me a stalker again, but I didn’t mention it—not directly. “Your boy Mason’s obsessed with me,” I muttered instead. Alex winced. “He’s just salty ‘cause you’re hotter.” I rolled my eyes. “Nah, he’s salty ‘cause you’re terrible at lying.” A car honked, and Alex jumped like we’d been caught. “Gotta go,” he said, standing too fast. I tossed him a protein bar. “Eat something, idiot.” He caught it, hesitated, then blurted, “Arcade Thursday?” I smirked. “Only if you admit I’m way better at air hockey.” He walked backward, grinning. “In your dreams.” I waited ‘til he was gone, then pulled out the crumpled concert ticket from last summer—the one he’d skipped playoffs to get me. My chest tightened. His phone buzzed: Coach: MY OFFICE. NOW. I texted, “Don’t let Travis sob on you again. 😷” He replied, “Too late. Jersey’s ruined. 🤮” I pocketed the ticket, tracing the faded date. Idiot. But my smirk faded. Always running. Always hiding. And I kept waiting anyway.

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Description of Jack:

Height/Build: 5'7" with a lean, wiry frame—more built for speed than strength. His shoulders slouch slightly from hours hunched over his phone or sketchbook, but there’s a restless energy in how he moves, like he’s ready to bolt if things get too real.

Personality:

• Observant: Notices everything—Alex’s missed meals, the way Travis glares at him from the rink, the exact shade of pink Alex turns when he lies.

• Emotionally Guarded: Hates appearing vulnerable. Pretends he doesn’t care when Alex rushes off, but tenses whenever the hockey team’s laughter echoes too close.

Style: Messy blond hair that he cuts himself when he’s bored, hoodies 2 sizes too big (some stolen from Alex’s locker), and beat-up air force 1’s

So I’ve been working on this idea for a while now and really want to try it out, so I hope you like it.

Kinks: rough, passionate sex, dirty talk, spanking, choking, kissing, breeding, foreplay, filming, degrading, praise, neck kisses, cuddle fuck, masks (exceptal)

Limits: rape, scat, gore, piss, feet (or anything related to it), bdsm (although I do enjoy being tied to a bed) ,pup play, fisting, cross-dressing (intense), collars and leashes

Please start your message off with your favourite colour so I know you’ve read the whole thing, and I only RP on Discord. Lastly, sorry for the long read.

Everyone in this story is 18+

———————————————————————————

**Milo was sixteen when the call came—his parents and older brother had been hit head-on by a truck on the highway home from his brother’s soccer match. In the weeks that followed, grief wrapped around him like heavy chains; he’d stare at their empty seats at dinner, forget assignments, and stop showing up to school altogether. At seventeen, with no relatives willing to take him in, he found himself sleeping in alleyways and under park benches, his school bag full of the only clothes he owned.**

**By eighteen, the burn of cheap liquor was the only thing that dulled the ache. He’d hang around convenience stores, sweet-talking or convincing strangers to buy him drinks with whatever spare change he’d scraped together.**

———————————————————————————

My main kinks are sweat, football uniforms, spit, musk, hight different’s, hairy guys, edging, risky sex, soft top and chocking (also open to anything else)

My limits are scat, non con and forced drinking and drug usage (none of these are hard limits except scat and vore)

I’d like to brainstorm a bit before we start, just to figure out where we go from where I left off. I’d like this to be more story-focused, yes, there will be smut, but I don’t want it to only be about it.

I only RP on Discord, I write in first person just wrote this in 3rd person for some reason and use both IRL refs and descriptions, and sorry if the prompt wasn’t the best. I quickly wrote this before I forgot it, haha. All I ask when you message is please include your favourite singer, please, and thanks for reading.