#Lauren Pleasant

[charmfamily]

(SEMI) CHARMED KIND OF LIFE: EPISODE 3, PART XIX. “GENESIS IN BLACK”

[alishysimmy]

Kaylynn always keeps things interesting. She moved into her own condo in Pleasantview and immediately became pregnant wih Don's baby. She adopted a puppy named Kona while pregnant. She then had her baby, a little girl named Lauren. She spent a lot of quality time with Don and Daniel interchangably lol.

[triviareads]

I did a reread of the Little Women But They Fuck Harlequin Dare series by Lauren Hawkeye and I have to say, the standout is actually Beth's book?? I guess Lauren had a lot more to play with since she wasn't beholden to the og Beth's love life.

[whitelodge]

New episode of Pleasant-NEW! Darren's got a date with an NPC. Can you guess who it is?

Thank you guys for being so patient while I got this out! It's been a struggle, I'll tell ya. But I'm happy it's out :)

Let me know what you think!

[nouearth]

feel the rush.

tom holland x male reader.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. rushing a fraternity is highly-competitive, and all-so overwhelming. if it was up to you, you wouldn't have participated in the first place. fortunately, tom was here to provide you all of the shortcuts in receiving a bid to the greek life, as long as you did a bang-up job.

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓. one-shot [ 5.5k ].

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. male reader 〳 college!au 〳 frat!tom 〳brief alcoholic drinking 〳 closeted!reader 〳 reader is kinda religious coded 〳 sexual content: top!tom, bottom!reader, breeding, kissing, spitting, blowjob (r!giving), humiliation, dirty talk, muscle worship, scent!kink.

“You know you’re not exactly dressed for the occasion, right?”

The door closed behind Tom, sectioning you off from the party. The atmosphere of the event was tangible regardless. Strong beats throttled from wall to wall, tremors from a familiar song tickling your feet. Chants, albeit muffled, were resonant as you could only presume that someone executed a keg stand for the nth time of the night.

Chug, chug, chug, chug, and the crowd roared as if downing a keg of beer prevented Earth from being infiltrated by extraterrestrials. Granted, that was within the best scenario, in which alcohol and everything loud and deafening like university students wanting to fit in were highly toxic to those devious space invaders.

“What—how do you mean? Rushing is pretty formal, isn’t it? That’s what my mom tells me, anyway.”

You felt small from Tom’s comment, taking a peek at yourself in his mirror and shamefully finding nothing out of the ordinary with your white dress shirt, polka-dotted tie, and khaki pants. Though, you had to be honest. It wasn’t a fair assessment, considering you were judging under the purple hue of his dim lights. The compact size of his room certainly didn’t help either.

“Yes and no. Obviously, you don’t want to look like a slob. But you also don’t want to stand out too much. You’re not going to be a Greek if you wear Ralph Lauren from head to toe—that’s obnoxious. It looks like your mum dressed you for the Lord’s Supper or someone’s granddad, which is frankly the worst offender: don’t look like a square.”

“These are all I have—duly noted—so, it’s okay to dress… like you then? Won’t I blend in with everyone else?”

Tom wore a snapback, a blue polo, and white cargo shorts—which was brazen of him considering the amount of drinking and bile you had seen before the party had even began. It was simple to replicate. If it was your mother’s judgement, she would have all the men and women cover up their legs and arms, while embarrassingly leaving you as the prime example of what a gentleman should dress like.

But your mother wasn’t here, was she? Which meant, you could enjoy the holy sight of Tom’s biceps threatening to burst his shirt at the sleeve, his bulky chest at the placket—all for a little while longer before your intuition stepped in at the call of your mother, and forced those thoughts to scurry off.

That was ungentlemanly.

“That’s the point. You blend in, which means you put in the extra effort to get you noticed by the brothers—by us. Outfit aside, I reckon you’re off to a mighty start. Could be a pledge if you keep this up. I’m certainly noticing you,” Tom muttered after taking a sip of his beer, backing you with small, but imposing steps, until your ankles knocked against the footer of his bed, making you fall back. “Here, loosen up.”

He handed you his beer can.

“I don’t—“

“Just a sip to get in the mood. Not asking you to get blackout drunk here, Christ.”

“Sorry, mama.” You tipped the can into your mouth and instantly, the first taste of lager made you grimace, your face and body shriveling up like the bitter bubbles in the back of your throat. “That’s not… pleasant.”

“You get used to it.”

You were an easy target, weren’t you?

All you had to do was lurk around the party like a lost puppy, head and shoulders down as if the entire objecting of rushing was the complete opposite of being noticeable, and then Tom came around to your aid. He flashed that confident, gorgeous smile of his, immediately knowing you’d do anything to receive a bid from anyone at Alpha Kappa Psi, to be a pledge, without ever doing the hard-work of politely boasting about yourself to complete strangers.

Using your body was easier.

“You’ve done this before?” Tom took the can out of your hand and set it on his desk. He joined you at the foot of the bed after, his thigh touching yours. Then his hand on your knee, rubbing to simultaneously appease those nervous twiddling fingers of yours, and to warm you up.

“Yes—but don’t tell my mom, all right? She doesn’t know that I’m—Just… a couple of hook-ups back at home. Nothing much.” You nervously laughed to fill the silence, watching Tom’s hand warm your knee in gentle strokes that seem to ascend closer to your thigh with every cycle.

He stopped at your inner thigh. “I don’t plan on it unless you do a bad job. And/or your ass somehow rips my dick off and I need someone to take accountability for your actions.”

Your body straightened when Tom began kneading at your tender skin. “Not funny, I mean it.”

“Relax, I’m not telling your mom. It’ll be fun…” With one smooth motion, Tom turned his snapback around, the visor facing the back, and his mouth lowered to the shell of your ear. “And if I can be honest…? It turns me on knowing you’re hiding such a dirty secret from your poor mother.”

There was a shuffling, and then a firm grip on your nape that made your breath hitch. Before your instincts to pull away could react, Tom drew you in for a pressing kiss.

You breathed in, sucking the taste of liquor into your lungs, and trailed after the sweep of his lips. His nose smashed against yours, you could practically hear him inhaling you, and you barely got a sound out before your lips were pushed apart with Tom’s wet tongue. He tasted of familiar lager, yet certainly much more appetizing than drinking from the source itself as you pressed closer to him, welcoming him into your mouth with messy licks to the slithering muscle.

“Mm…”

Electricity shot up your spine when his tongue began properly mingling with yours. Sparks ricocheted off your cranium, then back down to your toes, where they flexed and brought the rest of your legs onto Tom’s bed. Heat flushed through your veins, the kiss all-consuming like Tom had needed your moans to survive. He drew you in closer, holding you close, exploring your mouth with his. You let out small whimpers and pressed into him, drowning yourself in his groans as your hand experimented with desperate tugs and kneads to his growing erection. He licked and nipped at your lips in revenge, countering your touch with a much more brazen hand down your khakis and briefs, toying with your bare chub in his palm.

“Had my eyes on you since you walked through that door,” Tom’s breath spilled over your neck, kissing at the stretch of skin in between the seconds of stripping your clothes off and his after. “You stuck out like a sore thumb. Have no idea why you thought you even had a chance, but then I thought about it for longer, watching you stick to the walls, observing everyone, drinking our punch. I knew you weren’t as innocent as you looked.”

You were lost in this sanity. Your lips were swollen and nearly numb from use, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. They tingled in all the right ways, sending signals to your exposed cock, throbbing out in the open air after many clumsy movements of shimmying yourself out of your pants and briefs.

You helped Tom with his clothes, fingers swiping across his muscular back when you pulled off his polo, palms brushing over his toned thighs when it came to undoing his shorts. Surprisingly, no briefs to remove after, which made you even harder, even when you were nearly assaulted in the face with the spring of his erection.

All of Tom was impressive, especially his hard, thick cock.

“Mom told me to make some friends—“

When Tom returned his grasp onto your nape and pushed your head toward his groin, you lost all semblance of self-control. He held you close enough to smell his cock, but far enough to deprive you the pleasure of having him in your mouth. He smelled salty, something of sweat that made your nostrils flare for more, so you pushed your head. You sniffed, lowering yourself until your nose was buried into his heavy balls, and inhaled your curiosities.

The aroma of Tom’s musk was familiar and unfamiliar all at the same time. It was intoxicating. The scent was strong and pure when you pressed in. It was here, a pungent assault to your nose when you took another indulgent breath of his sweaty balls, and your senses went haywire when Tom’s fingers dug into your nape, scraping sweet lines of fire across the nape of your neck, and pulled you over his leaking cock.

Your inability to control yourself was as much of an arousal for Tom, judging by how his cock was twitching with every breath you took to fight off the urge in gulping him down.

“Wow, you really are a momma’s boy, aren’t you? Bet you have her constantly in your mind, telling you what’s right from wrong, don’t you? Tell me, what’s she saying while you’re sucking me off?”

“I don’t know what—mmf!”

Just like that, your mouth was full of Tom’s smell, full of him, god. Your eyes snapped shut and you choked down a moan as you took his thick cock into your mouth at the help of Tom’s bruising grip. One hand braced on his toned and flexed thigh while the other was wrapped around his shaft, holding him steady in your mouth. Your lips wrapped snug around him, hallowing your cheeks and flattening your tongue over veins—multiple veins that were the source of his pre-cum leaking into your mouth like a broken faucet.

Salt spread on your tongue, wakening every taste bud to an early bloom as you squeezed and stroked him at the base, forcing out more drips of pre-cum onto your tongue.

“Fuck, your mouth’s so warm…” His eyes widened at the warm and wet embrace of your tongue slobbering over his cock, groaning at the obscene sounds of your saliva spit-shining his shaft as he was leaning on his elbows. “God, look at you.”

“I’m doing okay…?” You gasped after pulling his cock out of your mouth, spitting out the thick, droopy web of saliva that connected your lips to Tom’s shaft back over the plump, swollen glans. You looked up at him for approval, wide-eyed and dazed, recovering from the stretch Tom had provided your mouth seconds prior.

When you needed a breather, you licked at the underside of his cock, tending to the inches you couldn’t possibly fit inside of your mouth with multiple tantalizing strokes of your hand. You spread your spit thick over his hard flesh, massaging every spit bubble until his cock and balls were moisturized with the slick of your mouth.

“Better than I could imagine, honestly…” Tom marveled with a chuckle, exhaling slow and deep from his gut to seemingly keep himself from spilling too early from your unrelenting strokes. His toes wiggled in his socks, a tic you found yourself simpering about because it was rather the opposite of Tom’s imposing demeanor.

He pressed two fingers against his own tongue, slicking it up with spit, before shoving them into your mouth to get a second opinion on your cock-sucking skills. Tom hummed, his hand removed from your nape to hold your chin up while he watched you take his fingers, pumping them in and out of your tight, sucking lips.

He seemed pleased.

Somehow, it was more intimate sucking his fingers off. Tom was staring. He had always been, which made you nervous since he introduced himself to you. But he was staring, as if he could control your every move with a simple look, as if he was capable of communicating with you without uttering a word. His lips parted, his brow raised, and you quickly caught on to reflect upon his wishes, diligently opening your lips to welcome a third slicked up finger into your mouth.

Right then and there, you figured Tom had taken your brain cells hostage and forged them to work in his favor. Whatever he wanted, you were absolutely pleased to do without a single complaint peeping from your end.

He pulled out embarrassing sounds that would’ve gotten you stoned if your mother ever heard them from your room. His other hand worked on your leaking cock, massaging your testicles and palming the plump tip, because he can—because you let him.

You were Tom’s puppet, and your body was at his disposal.

“See? This is fun, right?”

He slid his fingers out of your mouth ever so-slowly, the dim light catching onto the trail of spit that bridged his fingers and your tongue with a magical glint. They eventually lost their sparkle when Tom was quick to bring his hand to your ass and wet your exposed rim with a finger, circling the flesh at an excruciatingly slow pace.

“M-mm…”

It was pathetic how deprived of touch you were.

Something as simple as a tease made you writhe on all fours. All it took was a lazy stroke of his finger for you to arch your back and draw your ass out. You couldn’t manage more than a moan as Tom guided you flat on your stomach and himself behind you, continuing his taunts after freshly lubing his fingers and throbbing cock.

Upon the next turn, Tom had the generosity of delivering you of a fill that had been making your cock leak into his sheets, that had been making you rock your hips like you were an animal in heat.

After pushing your legs apart, Tom slowly slid one finger inside of you, his mouth opening in rapport, but also in wonder, as your tight hole welcomed his thick digit in with such warmth, your body locking up as pleasure entered your body.

“C-Christ…” you hissed, thighs clenching and ass squeezing around the foreign intrusion. Something like panic, mixed with agonizing, desperate need, froze you in your place, yet you could feel your body melt, beads of sweat forming over the slope of your tense shoulders and back muscles. Every contact point of your body meeting his, from his firm hand kneading your plump ass, to the tender push and pull of his finger, scorched.

“I don’t know, (M/N)… I don’t know if you can take my cock. My finger can barely move. Might have to call it a night…”

The thudding of your heart muffled your ears as Tom pressed in another finger after slowly working you open. Upon instinct, you closed your legs, only for Tom to spread them back apart before your sweaty thighs could meet, keeping yourself exposed and bare under his direction.

You chewed on a whimper, your face pressing into a pillow in your arms while Tom’s two fingers curled and pumped deep inside of you. You felt yourself pulsate around him, the tight ring of muscle unrelenting in its grip around his fingers, but Tom was determined to break you, another digit joining the pair of fingers, demeaning the tightness of your hole with an obnoxious whistle while pushing into your resistance. “Damn, look at that hole… barely fitting in three fingers.”

“N-no, I can take it. Please…” you gasped on an onslaught of curls, fast and repetitive until you were stretched enough for Tom to yank his fingers completely out of you and quickly feel withdrawal symptoms of his fill. Your thighs shook, your ass pushed out for more, your hole twitched in rapport—you murmured a whine that you needed Tom to hear, but was too self-conscious to let it be known, so you settled biting into his pillow to resist your throat from spilling.

“Such a shame. I thought you made the perfect fit for A.K.P., too.”

His touch was soft and exploring, smearing the sweat on your back over the expanse of your ass and covering it in a humiliating sheen that you’d reckon Tom was stroking himself to upon picking up on the lewd, slick sounds of lube sliding over something thick behind you.

“S-stop, stop, please. I-I’ve taken it before, just—give me a chance, yeah? Please? Hear me—feel me out?”

“You’re that desperate, huh? Don’t know if you need the pledge more, or my cock…”

“Your cock… Tom, please—“

“So, you wouldn’t mind if you received nothing in return, as long as my cock was inside of you? Fucking you? Breeding you?”

“No, I just—“

No, no, no. I don’t want you to stop. Please don’t stop. Your ass communicated those pleas in desperate wiggles. A strong smack to your ass cheeks meant to halt you in place, but it only made your hips more fervent as you graciously backed into the thick of Tom’s cock, reaching back and giving him a needy pump or two, then slid him against your crack.

A needy moan escaped when you felt the weight of his cock sandwiched between your cheeks.

“So, you don’t want my cock? I’m confused on what exactly you’re telling me. Hurry, before I lose my patience.”

You felt a stickiness to your rim. Peeking over your shoulder, you took a glimpse of Tom presumably tracing your hole with his cock and spreading his pre-cum thick over the smooth flesh. The small space grew humid with the tension between your body and his, heavy breaths adding onto the heavy air as Tom rocked into you, holding you by the waist, gliding his cock through the wetness of your lubed ass cheeks. His shaft rubbed over your hole, and your cock throbbed and leaked in between your legs at the chance that anytime now—Tom could breach you open, and fill you wondrously. Your hole clenched at the thought, aided by Tom’s hands pressing your cheeks tighter around his cock as it slid over you.

If only you could command your asshole to open, because you would’ve taken him in by now.

“I want you inside of me, Tom. F-forget the pledge, I just—I need something, someone inside of me. Please, just—Christ, fuck me. Fuck me with your thick cock. Fuck your cum into me. Fuck my ass until I’m nothing but a gaping hole dripping with your seed. Don’t even care if we never see each other again, please, Tom—”

Your eagerness took Tom by surprise, making him chuckle and slap his cock over your blinking hole before resuming on sliding his shaft against your crack, hopefully for one last turn. “Who knew you had such a potty mouth?”

You don’t know what drew you back to looking at Tom again. Maybe it was the hard, brawn structure of his body, cut straight from a sculpture of the most heroic Greek warrior. The firm lines of his abdominal muscles, or the way his snapback was adjusted backwards, emphasizing his soft, yet handsome looks. All in all, you didn’t mean what you said.

You would absolutely care if you never saw him again.

He was too good.

His rough hands over your ass, smacking them whenever you would try to angle your hips in a way to fit him in, were too good. His delicate kisses on your neck, back, and shoulders, quelling the tremble of your limbs, were too good. His soft lips, when you and him met halfway until your mouths were exchanging breaths, making the effort of holding yourself still against him excruciating, were too good.

Tom’s lips ghosted over yours, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. You groaned as he supported your core with a strong hand, opening your mouth to take more. Every part of you, even the moisture in your body, wanted to touch him. You were sweating, drooling into his mouth, leaking into Tom’s palm when he wandered down to stroke your cock; all strong indicators that you were losing control, if you hadn’t already.

His voice, as he murmured something about your body in your ear while he was gathering you against him, was too good. His breath forced itself between your lips, breathing out a supply of oxygen into your mouth, into your lungs, to prepare you for the inevitable, and you had never felt so fragile before—especially so, when you found yourself quickly using up Tom’s oxygen when he pushed his cock into you without hesitation, without warning, your body hammered by a thousand needles in the process.

“T-Tom!” you hissed in a breath, but it only made the grip on your hips more strident when his thrust made you collapse back onto all fours. It wouldn’t be surprising if your skin was blemished with bruises the very next day with the way his fingers dug into your flesh.

Tom was generous enough to let you adjust to his size, indulging in the warmth and tightness of your entrance with only the tip of his plump cock despite feeling like he had toppled your backside with all of his body weight. Even then, those minuscule ruts were enough to make you whimper out of agony.

“So fucking tight…”

Tom pulled himself out and spread your ass cheeks apart, marveling and silently wondering to himself how he was going to puzzle himself inside of you. Some spit would surely help. He licked his fingers, then pressed it over your swollen hole, smoothing the skin before pushing the tip back in, having only a tenuous grasp on his self-control.

After the burning mellowed with the help of multiple deep exhales and kisses from Tom, you felt yourself finally unravel the moment he moved his hips. Your fingers raked against his abs as you reached back to pace his hips, palm on his pelvis to keep from completely ruining you. A shiver ran down the length of your spine as Tom smoothed a hand over your back, then kept it at the lower half, pushing deeper into you while he held you still. You made a sound, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, pleasured yet disoriented by the ample stretch Tom was providing you with. It gutted the fog of arousal, you could feel your hole instinctively pushing his cock out with overwhelmed pulses, but Tom was persistent, driving into you deeper— harder—the moment your body tried to resist him.

“Don’t mind it hard, right?” Tom asked against your ear, gruff in between his slow, yet deep strokes.

“Please,” you whimpered, barely getting the word out before Tom’s hand found its way to your mouth, covering it and holding your head back at the millisecond your answer registered in his brain, giving him the green light to pummel you relentlessly.

Your eyes popped open when Tom soared, bucking his hips wildly into you. Cries of pleasure, your whimpers and moans of being hammered with such overwhelming desire for your body, were muffled into the palm of Tom’s hand. He squeezed your cheeks, loud groans leaving your throat, and your torso arched into the mattress.

The brutal stretch was what you’d been needing. All this pent up sex drive that you had been harboring for so long came exploding out of you like molten lava, scorching your torso and all in effect. Your body was on fire, coupling with Tom’s as sweat dripped from his forehead, and somewhere onto your backside. Your mind emptied out while you hovered in the space between deprived arousal and complete ecstasy, only perfected by Tom’s cockhead screwing into your tight, clamping hole.

“Open,” Tom demanded with a huff, and you did as you were told at the prodding of his fingers. You welcomed him in with the parting of your lips, luring each digit with the curl of your wet tongue. “You like that? You like taking my hard cock like this? Fucking you open until you’re nothing but a hole? God, look at you drooling…”

As Tom pumped inside of you at a steady pace, angling his hips so he stretched you wider, you suckled on his fingers as they remained hooked over your mouth—you were starting to guess that he loved having them sucked, or at least, liked playing with the idea of having himself inside of you in more ways than one.

It was a messy affair. Pools of saliva leaked from either corners of your mouth. The smell of sex was thickening in between the heavy pants that you and Tom would collectively exile. It wouldn’t be long until your body was drenched in sweat, and you’d come to realize that you wouldn’t be alone in that department. Tom had his sweaty arm around your throat, pushing all of his body weight onto you and gutting you open with the deep hammering of his thrusts. His chest rumbled with wild growls as he pounded into you from behind, burying your hole to the root of his shaft, fucking you with the salacious sound of his heavy and musky sack slapping against your sweat-stained taint. You whimpered when his cockhead brushed past that sweet spot of yours, an unfamiliar feeling that you had no doubts in wanting to befriend.

“O-oh, that’s s-so g-good—“ You bit into his forearms, the thick vein pulsing through looking appetizing, and you were glad you did it because—it was like an ‘on’ switch for Tom.

“Taking my cock so well—your mom would be disgusted, wouldn’t she? Knowing her baby boy is taking a man’s cock. Want you to remember this. I don’t care how many cocks you had before me. I want you to remember what my cock feels like, digging deep inside of you. And when I’m done with you, I don’t want you coming home, crying to mommy—because I’ll never be done with you. Once you get your bid, you’re fucking mine.”

This was it.

This was Tom at his peak performance.

And your body was at his mercy.

He pulled out, flipped you over, then hooked your legs over his shoulders before resuming in his relentless rapture.

You stroked yourself to the image before you, a tight fist around your aching cock, squeezing from base to tip, spreading your pre-cum down your already sticky length, while your other hand toyed with your nipples, playing with the perky nubs.

Tom’s muscular body dripped in sweat. His teeth gritted as he struggled to control his volume. Glimpses of the base of his cock would appear when he would pull out, only to be hidden by the trimmed hairs of his pubic hair when he would shove himself back in, veins of his large cock throbbing and basking in your warmth. Hard and strong kisses layered your ankles while Tom’s pecs jiggled with every thrust he made. Even if you weren’t being fucked right now, you could get off to this. You could come right now, to the absolute bliss on Tom’s face as he buried himself deep inside of you, impaling you with his cock, moulding your hole to the shape of his shaft.

It enthralled you knowing how much pleasure your body gave Tom.

The squeaking of the bed roped everything together, gathering all sorts of noises—lewd sounds of sex and delirious desire—like a beautiful symphony. Your moans against his were the choir when Tom came down to kiss you hard on the mouth, sloppy and wet as he explored you open both ways. His tongue curious into your mouth and his thick cock rearranging your guts.

Your hands freely roamed over the expanse of his broad back, clutching and scratching at his back muscles when he curled his hips in a way that made you arch your body off the bed and knocked the breath out of you. God, he was so strong. So buff. You could feel his back muscles move in sync with his hips, flexing and flaring as he sank his cock deep into you. Your body stuttered, your eyes shut tight, tears nearly welling from the utter pleasure, shriveling as Tom would batter your prostate with better precision every time his hips came down on you. You couldn't be bothered to find the proper words to tell Tom how good he was making you feel, so you settled for a mixture of gasps, whimpers, and a daring scratch over the length of his spine.

That was telling enough, right?

Tom growled at the sting overloading his senses when you made your marks, grazing his teeth and lips over the palm of your hand when he reached back to take and hold the culprit of the forming welts before him. You and him shared a gaze, a kiss when he lowered himself and briefly settled on imposing you with strong, but slow and deep thrusts. To catch his breath. To catch yours. You both exchanged breaths, swapped saliva, explored each other's mouths, held each other hands, and the intimacy of it all made it all the more tranquilizing for you.

“Gonna breed that ass of yours. Fuck, it’s perfect for me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Have your hole dripping, gaping, and raw? Maybe I’ll get the bros to look at the mess you made. Maybe they’ll want in on it and have a turn at your body, too. It could be your initiation, hm? Could skip the entire process, and be a Greek, as long as you let all of us breed you. How does that sound?”

“Holy, s-shit—“

You pumped your cock, a familiar feeling quickly bubbling to a high from the pit of your stomach, all the way to your swollen nipples, and you knew what awaited you as that sensation wouldn’t falter. Your heart beat ran faster than the effort of caffeine. Even though it was muffled, the rhythmic beats downstairs were still resonant, and you were absolutely outpacing its tempo. The heat of Tom’s hands returned on your body. He caressed and rubbed your hips, thighs, chest, balls, and ass, all while he urged you to come.

“There we go. Good boy. Keep fucking that fist. Yeah, fuck—“

His palms smoothed over your skin, up the sides of your body, thumbs pressing into either sides of your hips, then maneuvered you with his strength to meet him half-way into his strong thrusts. His biceps flexed, thick veins demonstrating his rush of adrenaline and sheer strength as he brought you down onto his cock with thundering claps, sweaty skin contacting sweaty skin, constantly assaulting your prostate with his swollen cockhead.

It both frightened and thrilled you, your eyes blown, and you felt yourself quickly spill, thick and heavy over your stomach, knowing you were at Tom’s disposal. You shuddered, watching the thick ropes of cum fly high before splattering and soon pooling at the plane of your body.

“I’m close—“

“Come inside of me, please–“

You were panting as your cock finished spilling itself all over your stomach and chest, as Tom’s big cock pounded in and out of you with such ease now, the weight of his hips coming down on you making you continuously bounce on the mattress.

“Fuck.”

His breathing was even heavier than yours, laced with grunts as he used your ass like a toy, pulling hard and pushing you as he pleased, breaching you with the thick of his cock. His thrusts become wilder, sweat dampening his snapback as Tom mustered up the rest of his strength and energy to completely overpower you. His swollen cock dug deep, you could feel every veins about to burst. With a choke of your name, he delivered one more grandiose rut against your ass, the impact of his hips biting sharp into the back of your thighs, and filled you with his cum, burying you to the root.

“Holy shit…”

“O-oh, god—“

Warmth spread thick inside of you, and you writhed and groaned as your hole swallowed another fat fill. Tom’s body goes slack, crashing into your arms immediately, and he moaned on each slow thrust, creaming you from the inside and out. You strained toward him in desperation, wrapping your legs around his hips to lock him in place, and reaching over to his ass to push him deeper, to urge him to keep breeding you as your hole held Tom’s sensitive cock with gratitude, taking his thick seed without hesitation, until his cock veins stopped pulsating.

As promised, Tom kept you impaled, rocking his hips and kissing you once more, soft and passionate, something of him owing you one laced in the way he smooched your lips and refused to let you reciprocate—because Tom never came like that before. His hand was tender on your cheek, stroking the dried stain of drool that was left abandoned when he pulled away to look at you, properly this time. You sighed, brushing the snapback off his head to let his scalp breathe, and pulled him in at the introduction of a sudden draft, your legs still anchored by his hips.

You lay intertwined, sharing deep kisses in between moments of recovery, where the post-nut clarity rendered you and Tom into fit of collective shy laughter, incredulous to the affair both of you had just engaged in.

“So, you live on campus?”

“Oh—yeah. East side, near Turing…”

“Figured you’d be a science guy. Anyways, I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. Give me your phone.”

“Pick me up? For what?”

“Christ. Did I fuck the memory out of you or something? Bid day’s tomorrow. It gets hectic, so I think it’ll be better if you stick with me.”

“Won’t that… be suspicious?”

“Nah. Plus, I figured we’d get an early start on your initiation…”

“You mean—“

“Fuck, yeah.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[yeahawvampire]

it's so weird when you're having a chill conversation with someone and they start to being passive aggressive outta nowhere and then I have to rethink all my interactions with them and how I'm going to handle their annoying ass/or cut them off

[moviesandmania]

CAMP PLEASANT LAKE (2023) Slasher film preview - now with first trailer

CAMP PLEASANT LAKE (2023) Slasher film preview – now with first trailer

Camp Pleasant Lake is a forthcoming slasher horror film. “You cross paths with at least 20 killers in your lifetime and don’t even know it” Well, this time you will… Written, co-produced and directed by Thomas Walton (Room 9). Also produced by Jared Safier. Executive produced by Jackson Everest and Michael Mahal (Death Count; Arena Wars; Bermuda Island; Attack of the Unknown; Bus Party to…

[peavhyshy]

𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗣𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗘 (oneshot)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Summary: In which Rafe goes over-the-top as usual to apologize for cheating which includes a grand gesture of buying out an entire boutique is creatively meant to convey his guilt.

Warnings: strong language, fluff, semi smut (but not really), power dynamics, mental/emotional manipulation and ulterior motives, reference to cheating, sexually suggestive situations, non-consensual elements (pressure/coercion into sexual acts), dubious consent, unhealthy relationship, discomfort/anxiety, misogyny/objectification

Words: 5,130

a/n: It's been a while since I posted on here and whatever so here I am, but who's to say I won't disappear for another few months

Outer Banks Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Rafe sauntered into the high-end boutique, the little bell above the door announcing his arrival. The sales associates perked up, eyeing his Ralph Lauren polo and Sperry boat shoes. Ah, a Kook with money to burn. 

"Hello sir, can I help you find anything today?" the manager asked, her voice dripping with fake pleasantness.

"Yeah, I need to buy out like, your whole store," Rafe said nonchalantly, checking out a display of cashmere sweaters. 

The associates' eyes widened in surprise and delight. "Buy out the whole store, sir?"

"Yep. I screwed up badly with my girl. She's a Pogue, you know? Doesn't really do the whole fancy clothes thing. But she found out I cheated on her with some Touron last week, and now she's pissed." Rafe picked up a floral sundress, scrutinizing it. "So I figured, what better way to say sorry than decking her out in some new designer threads?"

The manager nodded enthusiastically. "I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture. Let me start ringing up some items for you."  

"Nah, like I said, I want to buy out the whole damn store. Just name your price." Rafe pulled out his credit card, waving it around.  

The manager's eyes lit up at the thought of the huge commission she was about to make. "Of course, sir, let me calculate our current retail inventory value and I'll give you a total."

"Make it quick. I’ve got a picnic on the beach planned to beg for her forgiveness," Rafe said, leaning on the cash wrap counter impatiently. 

The manager returned shortly with the grand total. Rafe didn't even blink as he handed over his credit card. Anything to get his Pogue princess back.

Rafe leaned against the wall near the cash register, watching with disinterest as the store employees scurried around grabbing items off racks and shelves.

"Come on, pick up the pace," he called out impatiently. "I wanna get out of here before the sun goes down."

The manager gave him an appeasing smile as she stuffed an armful of sundresses into a large box. "We're going as fast as we can, sir. I really appreciate your business - this is the biggest sale we've ever had!"

Rafe just shrugged, stifling a yawn. The workers were cramming the boxes full of tissue paper and accessories, trying to maximize what they could fit. Shoes, handbags, skirts, tops - everything was being cleared off the floors and walls. 

One associate struggled to fold a pile of cashmere sweaters to fit in an overflowing box while another carefully wrapped up a display of fine china jewelry. The store was slowly emptying out as the minutes ticked by.

"Ugh, this is taking forever," Rafe groaned, pulling out his phone to scroll aimlessly. "I should've just gone to Party City and bought her a bunch of balloons or something." 

The manager's smile strained a bit as she kept up her enthusiastic energy. "Almost done, sir! Just a few more minutes and you'll have our entire inventory to present to your lovely girlfriend."

"Yeah, yeah," Rafe muttered, back to being bored. Buying out the whole store was proving to be more tedious than he had anticipated. But hey, you were worth it. Probably.

”I need all of this shipped to her beach house.”

The manager nodded as she taped up another overstuffed box. "Of course, sir. I can arrange delivery to any address you'd like."

She gestured to one of the other employees. "Sara, can you grab some shipping labels? We'll need to send all of these boxes to this gentleman's girlfriend's house once we're finished packing everything up."  

Sara hurried to grab a stack of shipping labels and a pen. "What's the address, sir?" she asked Rafe.

"Oh, uh..." Rafe scratched his head. "Somewhere in The Cut, not really sure of the exact address. It's a small blue house near the bay though, it has a tire swing out front. Think the name on the mailbox is L/N or something like that."

Sara looked confused. "Do you have the street name or number? There are a lot of small blue houses in The Cut."

Rafe rolled his eyes. "Jesus, I don't know that shit. Her dad's name is Hank though, if that helps. Everyone knows Hank the Tank down there."

The manager and Sara exchanged a look, neither seeming confident about locating the right address. 

"Tell you what," Rafe continued, pulling out a thick wad of cash from his back pocket. "Here's 500 bucks. That should cover you guys figuring out where the hell to deliver all this stuff to Y/N in The Cut. I'm sure one of the Pogues down there can point you in the right direction."

He tossed the cash on the counter and headed for the door without another word, leaving the overwhelmed store employees with boxes piled high and vague delivery information.

You squinted against the setting sun as three large delivery trucks rumbled down the sandy driveway toward your family's weathered beach house. You set down your cards on the rickety picnic table, where you had been playing an intense game of Crazy Eights with John B, JJ, Sarah, and Kiara.

"What the hell is this?" you muttered. The trucks parked haphazardly amidst the uncut grass and strewn beach debris surrounding the house. Drivers hopped out and opened up the backs, revealing piles and piles of boxes crammed to the brim.

"Whoa, did you order the entire Amazon warehouse or something?" JJ joked, sauntering over to inspect the deliveries. 

Before you  could respond, the porch boards creaked loudly under the weight of multiple pairs of high-heeled shoes. The group turned to see half a dozen boutique store employees teetering across the uneven ground, laden with clothing on hangers and large shopping bags.

"Oh no..." you groaned, realization dawning on you. 

"Delivery for Ms. Y/N L/N!" one of the women trilled, scanning the rural beachfront for the recipient. 

"That's you, Y/N," John B said, giving you a puzzled look.

Just then, a delivery man approached with an oversized bouquet of roses and a card. "Are you Ms. Y/N? These are for you along with all of these boxes."

"I'm going to kill him," you seethed, grabbing the card. Sure enough, it was from Rafe, attempting to apologize for cheating in his usual over-the-top Kook fashion.   

The others laughed, taking in the three trucks overflowing with designer clothes and accessories that had arrived on your doorstep.  The group whooped and raced toward the trucks, laughing at Rafe's attempt to buy back your forgiveness. You had to admit - it was a pretty damn good start.

The sun had just set over the expansive Cameron estate as you marched up the long driveway and let yourself in the front door. You breezed past the elaborate foyer and down the hall towards the state-of-the-art home gym, where you knew you would find Rafe. 

Sure enough, there he was - shirtless and pumping iron, the clanking of weights echoing through the large room. You crossed your arms, watching as Rafe finished his set of bicep curls before acknowledging your presence. 

"Oh hey babe," he said casually, setting down the dumbbells. "I see you got my gifts."

"You mean the eighteen-wheeler trucks filled with designer clothes that choked the road to my house all afternoon?" you replied sharply.  

Rafe grinned. "So I take it, you liked them?"

You rolled your eyes. "Did you seriously buy out the entire Verona Boutique?"

"Maybe," Rafe shrugged, grabbing his towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. 

"Why would you do that?" you asked in exasperation. 

"Come on, I was just trying to apologize for what I did," Rafe said. "I wanted to show you how much you mean to me."

You sighed heavily. "You can't buy me off with fancy clothes, Rafe. That's not how this works."  

Rafe stood up and walked over to you. "But did it at least make you smile a little?" he asked with a coy grin. 

Despite yourself, You felt the corners of your mouth turn upward. You shook your head, trying to fight the smile. 

"You're unbelievable," you scoffed. But Rafe took your reaction as a promising sign. 

"So...am I forgiven?" he asked. 

You shrugged, struggling to stay stern. "You're not off the hook yet. But...it's a start."

Rafe smiled victoriously and pulled you into an embrace. You hated to admit it, but his over-the-top gesture did melt away some of your anger. Only a Kook would think that buying out an entire boutique could fix cheating - but you had to give him points for creativity.

Rafe's face lit up with a delighted grin as he saw the smile fighting its way onto your lips. Score! He knew you couldn't stay mad at him for long, not when he pulled out all the stops with his over-the-top apology gifts. Sure, buying you an entire wardrobe wasn't exactly practical, but he wanted to go big to show you how much he cared. Because even though he screwed up by cheating, your were still his girl and he needed you to know you were #1. No Touron hookup could ever mean anything compared to you.

Pulling you tighter into his embrace, Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you nuzzled into his bare chest. He could tell the wheels were still turning in your mind, trying to decide if you were ready to fully forgive  him yet. But he had plenty more tricks up his sleeve if needed. Diamonds, a new car, a trip to Paris - anything you wanted, it was yours. Being the heir to the Cameron fortune had its perks when you needed to get yourself out of the doghouse.

"So when are you gonna model some of these new outfits for me, hmm?" he murmured suggestively in your ear. "Maybe a private fashion show tonight? I'll even let you use my black AmEx again if you want to pick up some sexy lingerie to complete the looks." He grinned devilishly.

You rolled your eyes and gently pushed out of his embrace. "Down boy. You're not off the hook yet," you reminded him, though your tone had softened considerably. Rafe held up his hands in mock surrender.

"Okay okay, I know. But you gotta admit, the mental image is pretty hot," he said with a wink. you just shook your head, trying to hide your smile. You could never stay irritated with him for long. 

"Alright, I should get home and figure out what to do with the small mountain of designer clothes currently cluttering up my living room," You sighed. "I still can't believe you bought out the entire store."

Rafe waved a hand casually. "Don't even trip about it. Consider it just a small token of my love," he said smoothly.

You quirked an eyebrow. "A small token? Rafe, it's got to be worth at least $20,000 worth of stuff."

Rafe shrugged. "Meh, that's like pocket change for me, babe. You're worth it and so much more." He pulled you in for a quick kiss. "I'll swing by later to help you sort through it all, yeah?"

You nodded, a genuine smile breaking through now. "Yeah, okay. I'll see you later." you gave him one last peck on the lips before heading out, shaking your head slightly at your ridiculous boyfriend's attempt to buy your forgiveness. But even you had to admit it was a pretty damn adorable gesture. The boy was utterly smitten, that much was clear. And even if it took a small army of delivery trucks worth of designer clothes to prove it, you supposed you couldn't complain. After all, what girl didn't love a massive shopping spree courtesy of the Cameron family fortune?

Rafe sauntered up the stairs of your beach house, not bothering to knock before letting himself in. your dad was away on a fishing charter and he knew you’d be home alone trying to organize the massive shipment of clothes he had sent over as an apology gift.

"Knock knock, princess!" he called out as he strode down the hall to your bedroom. "Did you get a chance to try on any of the new outfits I bought you?"

He pushed open your bedroom door to find you sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by mounds of tissue paper and discarded shopping bags. You looked up at him in exasperation.

"Rafe! You could at least knock before barging into my room," you admonished. 

“My bad, didn't mean to startle you. Just excited to see my gifts being put to use," he said with a grin.

You sighed, gesturing to the chaos around you. "Well, I've been trying to sort through it all morning but there's just so much stuff. You went way overboard as usual."

"Anything to make my girl happy," Rafe replied smoothly, plopping down on the floor next to you. "Here, let me help you get organized."

He began sifting through the piles of clothing, occasionally holding up items for your inspection. "Ooh, you have to model this one for me," he said, grabbing a lacy black teddy. "And this mini skirt would look so hot on you."

You blushed deeply, snatching the risqué items out of his hands. "Rafe! My dad could be home any minute," you hissed in embarrassment.

"So? I want him to see how smoking his daughter looks in the outfits I bought her," Rafe said with a devilish grin. "Might make him finally approve of me."

You buried your face in your hands. "You're unbelievable," you groaned. "Can we please just focus on organizing? I don't have time for an impromptu fashion show."

"Fine fine, I'll behave. For now," he added in a playful whisper.

You guys spent the next hour sorting your new wardrobe into categories - dresses, tops, bottoms, shoes, jewelry. Rafe "helped" by periodically holding up scandalous lingerie pieces and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively until you threaten to smack him with a stiletto heel.

Despite your exasperation at the overabundance of clothing, you had to admit it was fun exploring all the different styles and accessories Rafe had picked out for you. The boy definitely knew your taste, even if he did go over-the-top with buying out the entire store. You made a mental note to donate some of the clothes to charity once you had a chance to try it all on.

You collapsed backwards onto a pile of cashmere sweaters. "Phew! We’re almost done." You smiled over at Rafe. "Thanks for your help. And for the very generous gift. Even though it's pretty ridiculous you bought out an entire store," you added with a laugh.

Rafe grinned and leaned down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. "Anything for my princess," he murmured. "You deserve to be spoiled rotten."

You giggled as he nuzzled your neck, wrapping your arms around him. You supposed you couldn't stay irritated with him for long, not when he was just trying to show his affection through expensive gifts. Over-the-top as it may be.

"Alright Casanova, that's enough distracting me," You said, playfully nudging him away. "Now help me get all of these clothes put away in my closet before my dad gets home."

You shook your head in amusement. "You're absolutely ridiculous. But…" You tilted your head up to him and smiled."I love you for it."

Rafe playfully tackled you onto the pile of cashmere sweaters you had been sorting through. You let out a surprised squeal, smacking his chest lightly as he hovered over you. "Rafeee, I told you to behave!" you chided through your laughter. He just grinned mischievously, dipping his head to kiss along your neck and collarbone as you squirmed beneath him ticklishly.

"Mm mm, you know I can never keep my hands off you for long," he murmured against your skin, nipping lightly. His hands slid up under your shirt, tracing along your stomach and ribs. You shivered at the contact, cheeks flushing as you felt him growing hard against your thigh already. You really shouldn't be doing this with your dad liable to come home any minute…but then again, the risk just made it more exciting.

You bit your lip, hesitating only a moment longer before grabbing Rafe's face and crashing your lips to his in a hungry kiss. He groaned into your mouth, grinding his hips down against yours. Things were escalating fast, all thoughts of organizing clothes now tossed aside. Rafe broke the kiss only to tug your shirt over your head swiftly. His eyes drank in the sight of your breasts encased in a lacy pink bra.

"Damn baby…have I mentioned how fucking sexy you look in all these new lingerie pieces I bought you?" He reached around to unclasp your bra, leaning down to take one of your nipples in his mouth. You whimpered, arching into him. You were quickly losing the willpower to stop this and he knew it. His hands slid under your skirt, fingers dipping beneath your panties to find you wet and ready for him already. His hands wandered recklessly over your body, groping and grasping wherever they pleased..

"R-Rafe, my dad…" You gasped half-heartedly in protest even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch.

Rafe silenced you with another bruising kiss, grinding his arousal against you. His fingers tangled in your hair, using it as a handle to maneuver your head for better access to your neck and chest.

"Shh, don't worry about him," Rafe crooned, his breath hot against your ear. "It's just us right now." His knee nudged between your legs, parting your thighs as he claimed your mouth once more.

Your knees went weak, overwhelmed by the onslaught of Rafe's hungry kisses and wandering hands. You clung to his shoulders for support, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the sparking heat of his body pressed to yours. Your token protests died away as Rafe's skilled fingers caressed the soft skin of your breasts.

"That's my good girl," he praised darkly when you arched into his touch instead of pulling away. His knee rubbed teasingly between your legs as he continued his pleasurable assault, intent on showing you exactly who was in control here.

Your mind reeled, inner alarm bells drowned out by the pounding heartbeat in your ears. You knew you should push Rafe away, stop this before it went too far with your dad possibly home any minute. But your traitorous body seemed to have other ideas as it melted shamefully against Rafe's hard frame.

His kisses left you dizzy and compliant, willpower evaporating under the intoxicating strokes of his hands. But when those hands went to zip down your skirt, some deeply buried remnant of reason sparked back to life inside you.

"Rafe, stop," you gasped out, catching his wrists in your hands. He paused, eyes dark with lust and irritation at being denied his prize.

"Come on baby, don't be like that," he cajoled, leaning in to nip at your earlobe. "I know you want this too."

You shook your head, gently but firmly removing his hands from your body. "No, not now. Not here." Your cheeks burned but you held your ground. "I'm not comfortable going any further with my dad so close by. Can we please just…slow down?"

Rafe's jaw tightened, displeasure evident at having his fun interrupted. But after a tense moment he stepped back.

"Fine, princess, whatever you say," he relented, tone dripping with poorly concealed frustration. You let out a shaky breath, tugging your rumpled clothing back into place. Your lips still tingled from the force of Rafe's kisses but the frenzied moment had passed.

"Thank you. I'm sorry, I just don't want our first time to be so…rushed," You said earnestly, hoping he could understand despite his obvious annoyance at being denied. His eyes remained dark but he managed a tight smile.

"Yeah yeah, I got it. Wouldn't want Daddy dearest walking in on us anyway," he said with an eye roll. You smiled weakly, knowing that was as close to understanding as you would get from him right now. At least he had backed off for the moment. But you had a feeling this conversation was far from over. Rafe did not like being told no.

He swallowed down his anger, forcing his face into a strained smile. He had to play this carefully; you Lila too much and you’d bolt. No, he needed to lure you in gently, make you trust him completely.

"Of course, princess. We'll take this at your pace," he said smoothly, stroking your cheek. "I just got carried away because you're so damn irresistible." He kissed your forehead, the very picture of understanding despite the lust still raging inside him.

You visibly relaxed, giving him a shy smile. "Thank you, Rafe. I'm glad you understand. I promise, when the time is right…" You trailed off, blushing. Rafe tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your neck teasingly.

"Don't worry baby, I'll make it so good for you when you're ready," he purred. You shivered, skin tingling from his touch. "For now, why don't you model some of these new outfits for me? Might give me a sneak peek of what I have to look forward to." He grinned devilishly.

You laughed, swatting his chest playfully. "You're incorrigible," you admonished, but went to pick out a few items from the piles of new clothes. Rafe settled on your bed, hungry eyes tracking your every movement.  For now, he would enjoy the little fashion show. But it was only a matter of time before those clothes ended up scattered across the bedroom floor instead.

A relieved smile crossed your face as Rafe appeared to accept your request to slow things down without argument. You knew he must be frustrated, but you appreciate him respecting your boundaries for now. There would be a right time and place for intimacy later on.

As you sifted through the piles of new clothes, Your smile faltered slightly. You could feel Rafe's intense gaze following your every movement, almost palpable in its hunger. It sent a shiver down your spine, but not entirely an unpleasant one. Still, something about the glint in his eyes gave you pause.

You selected a few simple, conservative outfits to model - a loose fitting sundress, some shorts with a flowy blouse. But Rafe tsked in disappointment, getting up to rummage through the options himself.

"Oh come on, you can do better than that," he coaxed, grabbing a slinky miniskirt and cropped tank top. "I want to see my sexy girl shine." He shot you a playful grin as he pressed the revealing clothes into your hands.

You laughed nervously. "Rafe, those aren't really my style…" But he pouted childishly, guiding you towards the adjoining bathroom.

"Humor me? Just a peek," he insisted. You hesitated, then relented with a shy smile. You had never worn anything so risqué before, but the delight on Rafe's face was gratifying. And it was just the two of you after all…

You changed quickly, adjusting the tiny skirt over yourself. The top was snug and showed a hint of midriff that made you self-conscious. But Rafe's eager expression as you stepped out stopped any protests before they left your lips.

"Stunning," he breathed, drinking in the sight of you. You blushed under his intense scrutiny, suddenly feeling very exposed. But you tried to push past it, giving an awkward little twirl to show off the outfit fully. Rafe's grin was downright predatory.

"Now take it off nice and slow," he said lowly, eyes raking over you. "Give me a proper show."

You balked, arms crossing instinctively over your torso. "Rafe, I…" His eyebrows shot up in challenge and you faltered. Maybe you were overthinking things. You didn't want to disappoint him again…

With trembling fingers, You reached for the hem of the snug tank top. But the voice inside screaming this was a bad idea only grew louder. You dropped your hands, shaking your head firmly as you backed towards the bathroom.

"I'm sorry Rafe, I can't do this. The clothes need to stay on." Your voice was small but resolute. You wouldn't ignore your instincts, not even to placate Rafe's desires. His scowl made your stomach twist anxiously, but you stood your ground, waiting for his response.

Taking a deep breath, Rafe fixed an understanding smile on his face. "You're right, I got carried away again. I'm sorry," he said gently. "I just can't control myself around you sometimes. You look so gorgeous in that outfit."

He approached you slowly until you allowed him to take your hands in his. "Of course the clothes should stay on until you're ready. I'm truly sorry for pushing you, princess." He brushed a tender kiss over your knuckles.

You visibly relaxed, giving him a grateful smile. "It's okay, Rafe. Thank you for understanding." You leaned up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before disappearing back into the bathroom to change.

You emerged from the bathroom in a comfortable sundress, feeling infinitely more at ease now that you were back in your own clothes. Rafe's obvious disappointment tugged at your heartstrings for a moment, but you brushed it aside. You knew in your gut that stripping for him, even just down to your underwear, wasn't something you were ready for yet.

To your relief, Rafe seemed to have reigned himself in and was back to his usual charming self, apologizing for getting carried away again. You smiled up at him gratefully, leaning in to give him a light kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you for being so patient with me," You said earnestly. "It really means a lot. I know this is all new for me." you ducked your head a bit shyly.

Rafe tilted your chin up, smiling fondly as he gazed down at you. "Of course, princess. I'll wait as long as you need. I'm just happy to be with you," he assured you smoothly.

Your heart swelled. You knew you had been lucky to find a guy like Rafe. Wealthy Kook boys had a reputation for being entitled spoiled brats. But most people didn't get to see this sweet, caring side of Rafe like you did. He could be impulsive and hot headed at times, but he respected your boundaries when it really mattered.

"You're the best boyfriend ever," You declared, going up on tiptoe to kiss him warmly. Rafe grinned against your lips, strong arms circling your waist.

"Anything for my girl," he murmured affectionately when you broke apart. You playfully booped his nose, eliciting a laugh from him.

"Alright mister, as much as I appreciate these new clothes, I could really use some help donating some of them," you said in a practical tone. "I can't even wear this many outfits in a lifetime!"

Rafe heaved a dramatic sigh but smiled good-naturedly. "Fiiine, guess I did go a little overboard on the shopping spree," he conceded. You giggled.

"Just a bit. Come on, let's get started." You took his hand, leading him back to the piles of clothes awaiting sorting. Even if Rafe's impulsive extravagance could be frustrating at times, You were grateful to have someone so attentive and willing to lavish you with gifts and affection. You hoped in time he would come to value you for more than just your looks or virginity. For now, You were content to take things slow and simply enjoy exploring young love one day at a time.

Rafe resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he let you lead him by the hand back to the piles of designer clothes he had gifted you. Donating them? What a pointless waste. He had spent a small fortune solely with the intent of seeing you decked out in finery, not giving it away to the destitute Pogues of the Cut.

But he bit his tongue, keeping up the doting act. "Of course I'll help, babe. Anything you want," he said smoothly, playing with your fingers.

Soon, he promised himself as he pulled you in for a chaste kiss on the forehead that contradicted his lustful thoughts. Your smile made him want to gag, but he mirrored it charmingly. Let you enjoy playing house a little while longer. He was adept at getting what he wanted from any woman eventually. The thought made Rafe's cock stir impatiently, but he willed it down. Not yet. He needed to lull you into total complacency first before finally stripping away the last of your resistance.

You hummed contentedly to yourself as you neatly folded clothes into donation boxes, Rafe helping beside you. You smiled up at him after he gave you a sweet kiss on the forehead, happy you guys seemed to be back in sync after the brief tension earlier.

You held up a slinky red cocktail dress, pondering keeping it for a special occasion. But no, it wasn't really your style at all. Into the donation box it went. You frowned slightly as you pulled out several incredibly risqué lingerie items - crotchless panties, lace teddies that left little to the imagination. Definitely not your taste.

"Geez Rafe, did you raid the whole lingerie section?" you asked with a laugh. Rafe just shrugged, unbothered. You shook your head in amusement as you set them aside to give to your more adventurous friend.

Once all the clothes were sorted, you surveyed the boxes contentedly. You had kept enough everyday outfits to last a lifetime, but now many girls in the Cut would have the chance to enjoy fancy new clothes too. It made you happy to spread the wealth, so to speak.

"There, all done! The donation center is going to be thrilled." You smiled brightly at Rafe. "This was a really great idea. I know I said it already, but thank you again for being so generous. And understanding about…everything," you finished, cheeks pinking slightly.

Rafe smiled back warmly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Of course, babe. Anything for you," he said, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. You snuggled into his side, relieved you seemed to be back on the same page.

You hoped with time, Rafe would see you as more than just a conquest or object of physical desire. For now, you were content taking it slow, focusing on emotional intimacy over physical. You had all the time in the world for those things later on if things progressed. But for today, You were simply happy snuggling innocently with the boy who made you feel so safe, protected and cherished. Everything was perfect just as it was.

[lau219]

Red Carpet

Part 1

……….……………………………………………………………………

​As much as she didn’t want to admit it, he looked damn good as he stood before the hundreds of flashing bulbs. His outfit was perfect – stylish yet casual, and his confident and laid-back stance made him all the more alluring. His thick, dark hair was tousled in the most appealing way, and she imagined (to her dismay) her own fingers tangling in those locks as she watched him absentmindedly run a hand through it as he spoke to a reporter.

He had his trademark expression – pleasant, but almost hinting as if he felt he was too good to be there, which he undoubtedly did. Regardless, he was painfully gorgeous, and Lauren felt a heat run to her core as she saw him give a cheeky smile and roll his eyes at the reporter he’d struck up a banter with. He was so damn cocky. And it only fueled him on when he briefly averted his eyes to her and he caught her watching him, their gazes meeting briefly, his beautiful icy blue eyes boring into her. Lauren’s heart skipped a beat as his signature smirk unfurled across his face before he turned back to the reporter.

​“Shit,” Lauren muttered to herself under her breath. Why did she have to get caught ogling him? He would no doubt bring it up later, taunting her about it. Why did he always single her out? Sure, she gave it right back to him every time, but it was becoming exhausting to always have to deal with his asshole remarks.

————————————————————

​“Liked what you saw out there, did you, sweetheart?”

​Lauren immediately tensed at his voice, squaring her shoulders before turning around to face him.

​“I could see you undressing me with your eyes from across the way,” he continued with a smirk. “Hope you brought a change of panties.”

​Lauren’s jaw clenched as she gripped her champagne glass tighter. No after party in the world had enough booze to make this tolerable.

​“Not necessary, believe me,” she responded. “In fact, what I was wondering was how that reporter could stand to hold a prolonged conversation with you without clocking you in the face. Lord knows I’d seize that opportunity.”

​Cillian smiled widely at her, clearly amused. Goddamn, he was hot.

​“Really? I’d never peg someone as pretty as you as the violent type. I suppose it’s always the ones you least expect.”

​Did he just call her pretty? Her heart raced at the compliment, but then she shook herself. Get it together, Lauren, she thought. You hate this man, and suddenly you’re fawning over a backwards compliment that stemmed from him giving you a hard time? He didn’t even mean it like that.

​“Yes, it is, so keep that in mind the next time you think about pushing my buttons,” she responded.

​At that, Cillian took a step closer to her and leaned in, pinning her against the wall as he planted a palm above her shoulder.

​“Seems to me, there’s one particular button you’d love for me to push.” His voice was low as he looked into her eyes.

Lauren’s pulse raced and she swallowed dryly as she pressed back into the wall. When he lifted his free hand and slowly dragged a finger up her side, from her hip to her breast, it took everything in her to contain a whimper. His face hovered in the crook of her neck for a moment, and his breath fanned over her skin, giving her goosebumps.

​“How are those panties doing now?” he whispered in her ear.

​The repeated jab immediately brought her back down to Earth.

​“Oh, fuck you!” she spat as she put her hand on his chest and shoved him away. She tried to ignore the feeling of his pecs beneath his shirt.

​Cillian just smiled again.

​“Just name the time and place, sweetheart.”

​Lauren narrowed her eyes.

​“I’ve told you before, don’t call me that.”

​“And why shouldn’t I?” he asked, his smile still present.

​“Because it’s degrading. Don’t think I’m so dumb as to take it in any other way.”

​“Hmmm,” Cillian pretended to wrestle with the idea. “It’s gone on far too long now; can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

​“Well, then we should do the next best thing for a dog and cut your balls off,” Lauren replied.

​Cillian laughed loudly.

“Again, with the violence,” he said. “All that pent up aggression isn’t healthy, sweetheart.”

Lauren huffed.

“For every time you call me that, I’m going to come up with a name for you.”

“Oh?” Cillian raised an eyebrow challengingly. “What did you have in mind? Daddy?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“’Shithead’ seems fitting,” she countered with a mischievous glare.

Cillian let out another laugh and shook his head.

“I’ve been called much worse.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” Lauren replied.

He smiled at her and ran a hand through his hair again. They then both turned to look as someone hollered Cillian’s name, wanting his attention across the room. He quickly turned back to Lauren.

“Gotta run,” he said. He then reached out and took the glass of champagne from her hand, taking a sip and walking away with it. “See you later, sweetheart.”

“Shithead!” Lauren shouted after him, but she knew it fell on deaf ears, the music drowning out the insult as soon as it left her lips.

Part 2

[milkteaarttime]

First Meet (Pt.1)

This is the first meeting of my OC Latte with the Ghosts. A big shout out and thanks to @blacktacmopsi for allowing me to reference the MRE fic she wrote! It's my first ever fic; please be kind to me and enjoy (^ V ^ )!!!

————————————————————————

Hiking up the trail leading to the nearby makeshift military base was not how Latte expected to spend her weekends. Well, it's not like she had any expectations for the weekends. She's always called back to the hospital for work because of a lack of nurses after the ODIN event or because the unit is understaffed. Whenever she was promised a day off, her manager called her to get to the unit and help. So when the phone call came at 6 am, blasting her out of the peaceful sleep she was in. She was surprised that her manager tasked her not with coming into the unit to help but rather with a travel shift day. 

“Some special task force is coming to the base near us for a check-up. They said it was food poisoning related.” her manager said. 

“Isn’t it usually the RN or the nurse practitioner’s job to travel out of the hospital for checkups?” Latte asked a slight protest in her voice. 

She’d much rather stay in. Yesterday, she had a shit show of a shift, and her manager promised her she’d get today off. Although, her manager says that every time she's supposed to have a day off, only to call her anyway. So, unfortunately, Latte is used to her manager’s shenanigans by now. 

‘At least she's speaking nicer to me after I threatened to quit that one time,’ Latte thought, attempting to find the silver lining. 

“…We all did a lil’ vote and decided you should volunteer!” She said as if she was congratulating Latte for winning the lottery. “Since you’re so polite, we figured a little Canadian niceness would be better for these folks!” 

“Lauren… I don’t even have words right now.”

”Sorry, but there are only 2 RNs here today, and our nurse practitioner is sick. We can’t afford to send an RN out. Anyway, I sent you the details and the location of the base. Good luck!” 

Her manager then hung up faster than you can say, ‘Labour law violation.’ She let out a sigh before she began packing her essentials. “Stethoscope, portable pulse monitor, manual blood pressure cuff, a temporal thermometer scanner, penlight, notepad, and pen…So much for letting me have the day off, huh?” She grumbled as she listed each item being shoved in her sling bag. She looked at her comfortable room before sadly walking out, locking the door behind her.

“I think I'm almost there…” Latte mutters, looking up from her GPS and taking in her surroundings. The forest around her is a gorgeous green, dewdrops glistening in the beautiful early morning light. The lush vegetation and the crunch of gravel under her boots are a refreshing change from the narrow hallways and nose-stinging disinfectant-scented floors of the hospital unit. She was even able to see a chipmunk today. 

‘It has been a while since I could take a nice walk.’ Latte smiled, pulling down her surgical mask and inhaling the crisp morning air. A gentle breeze brushed against her face. ‘Maybe today won’t be so bad after all.’

She finally arrives at the temporary base after a rather pleasant 20-minute walk. She energetically greets the two soldiers standing guard at the entrance. Latte explains she was assigned to do nursing assessments for some soldiers here—something about a bad case of food poisoning. The guards exchange a glance, confusion and suspicion evident on their faces.

“Weren’t told anything of that sort. You don’t look like the usual nurse I’ve seen from the little hospital down the trail. Name?” The older-looking of the two soldiers chimes in sternly, narrowing his eyes at her. Taking aback by the sense of hostility from the soldiers, she quickly tried to explain,

”Uh…My name is Latte. I was sent here by—" She attempted to show them her ID and explain before being cut off. 

”Latte? Like the coffee? Look, Lady, If you are messing with us. It ain’t funny.” The soldiers begin eyeing her suspiciously. 

‘Jesus, they are not bullshiting about the security here!!’ Latte panics internally. She wasn’t sure what to do. The longer she stammers for an answer, the more suspicious the soldiers are of her. So far, any attempts at an explanation have been shut down. She wanted to say fuck it and go home, no call, no show, get fired, and maybe she won’t have to answer her inconsiderate manager’s calls, and won’t need to show up to the shitty unit the next day, and won’t need to work overtime without pay again and—

”Easy fellas, we asked for a nurse.” A different voice stuns her out of the little exhaustion-fueled spiral her mind was funnelling down. Her head whips at mach speed towards her saviour—no, saviours. She took in their appearance: an older man with short white hair followed by a man with no hair, but at least he's got a beard. The pair strolled up to where Latte was standing. The white-haired one gave her a reassuring smile before nodding to the soldiers guarding the gate,

“We called for the nurse. Some of our boys aren’t feeling too great. Sorry for the mix-up.” The soldiers guarding the gate backed off with a quick ‘yes commander,’ allowing the two men to lead Latte into the base. 

“Sorry, kid. Our men are just cautious. We can never be too careful with the feds still crawling around.” The older gentleman with white hair piped up after a little walking. The bald man behind Latte grunted in agreement. 

”Ah- Where are my manners? I’m Elias Walker, the commander of Task Force Stalkers.” Elias glanced towards Merrick. “And that's Merrick, my captain.” Merrick nods at Latte. 

"It's nice to meet you, commander and captain, um...my name is Latte, Latte Wong." She often feels a little embarrassed introducing herself. When her family first immigrated to Canada,  her mom saw the word 'Latte' on a quaint little local café's menu and decided it was cute enough for her two-year-old daughter. She wishes she received a regular English name like her little brother Viktor. He was lucky their mom didn't see his name on a café menu. Sometimes she wishes he received a dumbass name, too, so he could match her, like Americano or Muffin. She could go by her birth name, KaiXuan, but that would mean countless butchering of the pronunciation. Plus, as stupid as 'Latte' may sound, this name is given to her by her late parents, and she's reluctant to let go of it. 

“Latte? A special name you got there.” Elias chuckled, “That a nickname?” 

“No, commander. My parents didn’t speak English, and my mother thought it was cute?” she answered, nervousness creeping up her back as she tightened her grip on her bag strap. 

“You got family here?” Elias spoke up once more as they approached a building with a smaller gate. While Merrick went up to press the buzzer and verify their Identities, Elias looked at her, waiting for her answer. 

“It’s just me and my little brother after ODIN, commander.” She responded honestly. Elias nodded knowingly at her, sympathy and perhaps empathy in his gaze. Before anything else can be said, the gates open, allowing the men and her to enter the building. 

The two of them led her into a large meeting room of sorts, two of the three tables pushed near each other, making a larger table on the left side of the room, multiple giant screens mounted to the wall in front of the larger table, the last table on the other side of the room. The men sat around the larger table, some donning different yet similarly designed masks. Some notable men were one seated with a skull mask with his eyes closed, one in a white-streaked black mask, another with his mask on the table in front of him, a man with a buzzed head and an interesting facial hair style sitting next to a dark blond that looked similar to him. The one in the black mask and painted white streaks looked up from his computer at the sound of the door opening. 

“Ah Commander, and Merrick, welcome back.” He said, amused, “That didn’t take long.” The other men quieted their chatters and looked at their leaders, waiting for orders or explanations. Latte filed into the room after them, hiding behind Merrick’s stature. “It was a quick walk, Kick. We said we would be back soon.” Elias responds to Kick before turning to address the rest of the group.

“Boys, after the review we sent back to DOD, the heads decided that a health checkup must be completed to ensure that no one has lingering side effects from eating those MREs.” As Elias began, the faces of the men around the table contorted into disgust and pain at the mention of said MREs. Elias shot Merrick a glance, and Merrick moved to the side, revealing Latte’s short form. With the spotlight suddenly cast on her, she can't help but feel a little out of place under the gazes of these elite soldiers. But when her eyes scanned across the room and landed on a familiar-looking face, the buzzed head, mutton chop facial hair… She was stuck staring at him for a while as she jogged her memories to recall where she had seen him before. 

“The head sent us a nurse from nearby,” Merrick commented, then looked at Latte, expecting her to introduce herself. Realizing that the attention was directed at her again, she snapped out of the impromptu staring contest she accidentally held with mutton chops. 

“Uh…Good morning everyone…My name is Latte. I was instructed to come here at the last minute by my manager Lauren. I am from the hospital—The small one just by the base.” Latte stammered through her introduction, feeling ridiculous once more about her name and praying that no one was secretly thinking, ‘What dumbass name is Latte?’ Or smirking under their masks. “I understand that usually a more experienced nurse or a higher calibre nurse would be the one to do out-of-site visits, but something must have come up on the unit!… So, I was sent. My manager didn’t explain why, but I will do my best to assess you guys.” Latte attempted to hide the shakiness of her voice and smiled reassuringly at the men in front of her. 

“So…Uh...Let's get started! If it’s okay, I will set up a little questioning and assessment booth at that table on the far side of the room.” She looked at Elias, waiting for his approval. 

“Sure.” Elias agreed, and before he could offer his help, Latte sprung into action, grabbing two extra chairs, hauling them to the unused table, and beginning to set up. Elias looked back at the group, “So, who wants to go first?” 

[crazy-shits-post]

Cuddling and Care (Fanfic)

[Thank you for the love on the last one, so grateful! 😄 comment below if you want my wattpad user, I usually post there)

Sick in bed, Hamilton continued to write until his wrists became too sore to hold a pen. He laid there, bored as can be. He didn't like being ill. He was too weak and dizzy to do the things he liked, such as writing or running.

He turned over to the door of his room, his head aching. He missed Laurens, but he's unsure of how the other felt about him. Certainly not highly, considering he takes every opportunity to avoid him. But the redhead liked him. He was tall, manly, and was the only one who could understand his Caribbean accent. Maybe one day, in his stupid heart, Laurens would pick him up and kiss him all day and night.

His eyes felt heavy, everything was spinning.

-

"There's something not right."

-

"Doctor, cadet Hamilton has been asleep for about three days as of now. May you offer your best help?"

"He must be taken to medical immediately."

-

The soldier woke up days later, dizzy and fuzzy. He was clinging into something or someone. His eyes were blurry. He saw a face, a beautiful face. The face said something, but his ears were ringing too much to hear. He felt cold. He clung to the body.

-

"Laurens, do you adore me so?"

"More than anyone, my dear boy."

In his dreams, they kissed. They held each order. Laurens wasn't angry nor depressed. It was the only time he smiled. He wanted to be with him and never let him go.

"May we get engaged?"

"Yes!"

They will get married at sunset. Their eyes would lock as their lips would fuse together. They would touch each other's faces and bodies. They would have sex. They would have decades to love each other, and nobody could ever stop them.

-

It was on day ten when he was finally to know what was going on. All his friends were concerned, Washington had a stone-face, and the doctors had to keep their eyes on him 24/7. He was informed he had a severe case of Scarlet Fever. The tall body returned, looming in the shadows. He reached out for it. He saw it pause, unsure of what to do.

"May you come forth?" He asked with his arm reaching out to it.

His fever took hold, and he collapsed just as the body began to rush to him.

-

Stable enough to walk, he strolled outside, the cold air getting into his clothes. It felt so nice to finally not be ill after those miserable two weeks, though he knew another bout of winter illness would come eventually.

"Hamilton."

He paused, turning his head to the voice. He saw the tall body before, and now, he could see its features. Dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, scars.

"Laurens! What a pleasant surprise!" The taller walked up to him, his fingers trembling. "May you walk with me?"

"Yes, of course." His strange accent made his heart skipp a beat. "I need to speak with you if you would be so kind."

"Alright then."

He looked to the sides before having an arm around him. Hamilton tried not to blush as his soul did backflips.

"Before I begin, how are you feeling?" His voice was oddly gentle.

"Oh my, thank you for asking." He wanted to punch himself for his voice crack. "I am doing swell, though still a bit lightheaded."

He felt his grasp getting tighter around him. He blushed. "May we go back to our room, then? Mustn't faint on me."

The walk was silent. Hamilton wanted to jump up and down and wrap his arms around him. He didn't see how uncomfortable and almost frightened Laurens looked. They arrived and sat on the shorter's cot. He recently got a new one because all his possessions needed to be burned.

"What do you need to discuss, Laurens?"

"Please, refer to me as John."

Hamilton blushed so deeply that the other touched his face in fear of another fever, his heart beating fast. "Um, of course, John. Refer to me as Alexander."

John touched his shoulder again. The redhead felt so happy that he became slightly lightheaded. "Alexander, do you remember when you became ill and you awoke to someone by your side?"

"Yes?"

He took a deep breath. "That was me. I saw you in medical, I carried you to the tent." He looked away, tears swelling in his eyes. "I prayed."

"I always believed you held distain for me. You never spoke to me, nor did you want to be close to me."

John looked up. Hamilton gasped when he saw the big tear rolling down his face. He glanced at the other crying before, but this was the first time he's ever cried in front of anyone.

"I'm ill in the mind, I have a plague. I.." his big hands were trembling, Alexander went to hold them but stopped himself. "...I wanted not to have feelings for the fairer sex. I have feelings for the same sex." He wiped a tear from his eye.

The other, moved by the scene, chuckled. "Then you ought to be contagious." John raised his eyebrow, his heart now beating hard as well. "Lau-, I mean John, I happen to adore both sexes, and I just happen to adore you."

There was silence. Alexander felt feverish again. Did he say too much? Would John like him now? He slumped into Laurens, feeling warm arms around him and laying his heavy head on his shoulder.

"Are you well?" He never heard him sound so worried.

"Yes....just dizzy." He got up, bashful from embarrassment and the fact that John touched him in such a way.

Laurens chuckled nervously. "Alexander, you adore me?"

He took a breath. "Yes, I adore you as though you were a woman." It felt so strange saying it aloud. "Do you-"

"Yes, oh dear God, yes!" His voice was cracking with despair and desperation. "Since I've laid eyes on you! I adore everything you do, up to the way you care for your beautiful hair down to the way you hold the pens! I love you!"

It happened so quickly. Alexander hugged him, and the other did it back. Their lips smashed together. Hamilton became dizzy. This is all he wanted for so long. His body became heavy.

-

He woke up later that night, Laurens by his side. He looked miserable and frightened. He sat by him, his hands trembling.

"I thought I killed you!" He cried out as he stroked the curls that teased him for months. "You fainted!"

He sighed as he rubbed his forehead. "I'm well, I believe the excitement got to me." He blushed wildly as he stroked Laurens' scarred face. The other blushed as well.

"I'm so terribly sorry, I did not mean to harm you." His voice was gentle again. He put his hand on his pink cheek, his hand covering the entirety of it. "I would never harm you, my dear boy."

"Dear boy?" He was all smiles. "I love you."

That was the first time Laurens smiled. It was a beautiful smile of yellowish teeth and crooked teeth, a smile that lights up a dark room. "I love you as well."

John pulled him into a gentle embrace and led him to his lips. Alexander put his hands on his face to stroke his peach fuzz. They kissed. Laurens held him extra tight, just in case he fainted again. He bounced his red curls. He looked so beautiful. His long eyelashes and cheekbones looked almost like magic.

The taller pulled away, his arms still around him. "I love you."

"I love you so much." A tear ran down his face. "So much..."

His heart broke as he wiped it away with his big finger. "Mustn't cry..."

"You must be aware of this. When I was ill, I had dreams. Dreams, about you." His glance was gentle and warm. "You would hold me so tight to your skin."

"Such as this?" His heart felt hot with tenderness. Nobody had ever dreamt of him before.

He giggled, covering his mouth. "A bit closer, if you ought to know."

"Hm." He pulled his skinny body close to his stomach, Hamilton blushing from the warmth he ratied. "This?"

"Haha! Yes, yes!" He held his face in his hands. "Alas, it was you. It was always you. And now that we're together as so, it's-" the tears started again. "-a wonderful thing!"

Laurens kept smiling, rubbing his back. "It is so."

They embraced, kissed, kissed some more, and then just laid in the bed. Laurens had never felt so happy before. Love really was the key. Hamilton, at long last, finally got what he wanted.

"I love you, John." He whispered before he went to sleep. "I love you, I love you."

The other held him, protecting him from the cold. "I adore you. I cherish you." He kissed his forehead, his lips making a soft sound. "I love you, Alexander.

[charmfamily]

(SEMI) CHARMED KIND OF LIFE: EPISODE 3, PART III. “GENESIS IN BLACK”

Transcript Below.

MORGANA: Easy, Black Swan, no one’s got a van parked around the corner– just testing your reflexes, we thought it’d be helpful to make sure you’re not too much of a prissy princess to defend yourself.

WOLFGANG: [He snorts as he arrogantly sizes up Gemma, leaning in to blow out the flames coming off her hands like they’re no more threatening than birthday candles.] Or didn’t you get the alert this morning that they’re finding little girls that look just like you in pieces all over Moonwood? I’m just trying to keep you on your toes and save your life and this is the thanks I get… 

GEMMA: If it’s up to you to save my life, weirdo, I think I’d rather be murdered. [She sneers at him, her eyes narrowing furiously as she holds out an expectant palm.] Now cough up the six bucks you owe me for that coffee or find out what it’s like to live life as the world’s ugliest, mangiest rat – you’re already halfway there, it won’t be a hard spell to cast.

WOLFGANG: Haven’t learned Burgliate yet, huh? [Wolfgang smirks, leaning down just far enough to spit his chewed gum into Gemma’s hand, his voice lowering to an amused murmur.] You can have the six bucks when you can get it yourself, and I’m not buying you knowing Morphiate either. [Lauren and Morgana’s laughter in the background swells to a crescendo before suddenly, eerily, going completely silent.] AUNT LAVINIA: Oh, repugnant little boy, she knows people who do.

[alishysimmy]

Lauren aged up into a toddler and then Kaylynn had TWINS with Daniel, Ella (redhaired) and Ethan (blonde). Not sure where the blonde genetics came from tbh. Daniel passed literally seconds after the twins were born. Kaylynn then had to raise the twins and Lauren on her own which was quite a task. Lauren aged up into a child at the end of the round.

[youaremyhome]

Pieces of the Night: Mars is Bright Tonight

Warnings: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader, 18+ NSFW, smut, HEAVY non-con/dub-con, drug use, possessive behavior, DARK. Read at your own risk!

Notes: 4.4k words. Part 4!! starting to get darker, mind the tags ppl :)

The sun softly warms the top of your knees, arms wrapped around your legs as you sit on the lounge chair. Your bedroom sliding door is still open to let in the breeze. Heaving out a sigh, your mind moves sluggishly as you think back to last night.

After the group had led you back to the safety of the bonfire, you apologized for the scene you had caused. They refused to accept it, saying Rafe made a scene wherever he went. Still, you turned quiet as you looked for your sister. Lauren had been busy in the dunes with a kook and had missed the whole confrontation. Thank God for small miracles, you didn’t need her to be front row of your chaos.

Clearly, you had misjudged Rafe. You've heard he’s mean, but you had this annoying habit of seeing the good in everyone. That first night of meeting him had been nice. He was a bit of an asshole, but he had listened to you ramble and you thought he was sweet. My God, how wrong you were. You cried all last night once in bed. You would relax for a moment before remembering the picture he had of you, making you sob all over again.

But with the rising sun to cast light, so had your mind.

If Rafe did share that picture, you can report it as revenge porn, then he would be the one in trouble. You refuse to cower from a picture he had taken without your consent and try to hold it as blackmail. You would flip it on him just as quickly. Though, that didn’t make you any less shameful, feeling so stupid for having slept with him in the first place, for accepting that coke so easily.

Now that you're analyzing that night with wider eyes, you think maybe it wasn’t coke. At least, not fully. You had never felt that way with coke before. A more lightness, a feeling like you were drunk on drugs instead of liquor. You reason that it must’ve been cut with something else, giving you a bad high.

The only problem you’re stuck on is if you should tell anyone. Your friends? Lauren? The school?

The only ones to know the truth are the pogues, but you don’t want to involve them in your newfound drama. Rafe was probably right; they won’t want to do anything with you now.

A chirp of your phone interrupts your spiraling thoughts. A text from an unsaved number.

Hey, it's Sarah, do you wanna talk about last night?

Relief washes over you like cool water. Selfishly, you accept the lifeline Sarah has waved to you.

Yes please lol come over?

Your family is down at the beach and you blamed a headache for staying back. You burn a hole in the hardwood floors pacing for half an hour until Sarah texts that she’s here. Running down to the door you're greeted with a pleasant surprise as you look out to the driveway.

The brown van is parked crooked and filing out is all five of them. JJ waves his arm back and forth dramatically, smiling and bellowing your name.

JJ’s spirit makes you smile, leaning over the railing and waving back, beckoning them up. When they’re climbing the stairs, the rumble of an engine automatically turns your attention to the road. A truck drives past, slower than normal. You think it must be another tourist looking for their rental house.

Once they climb up the numerous stairs, Pope supports a hand against a pillar.

“Is it really necessary to climb mount Everest every time you come here?”

“No. There’s an elevator.” You smile innocently.  

“That’s mean,” Pope whines.

“Sorry about them, they’re kinda a package deal. Should’ve warned you.” Sarah rolls her eyes fondly.

“That’s ok, they’re pretty funny.”

You lead them inside, hearing the oohs and awws over the house. 

“Holy kook,” Pope wonders out loud.

Your face gets hot with embarrassed annoyance, you don’t want to be considered a kook if Rafe is one. Not wanting any more association with him than you already have. You skip over Pope's musing and sit on the couch with them.

“Soo… last night…” Sarah starts.

“Sucked! I hate when those kooks crash the party. It’s our side of the island.” JJ interrupts.

“I think Sarah was talking about what happened with Rafe and Y/N.” John B says.

“Oh, yeah. That. That sucked too. I mean for sure it did for you.” JJ gestures his long arms to you. “Who would sleep with Rafe anyway?”

Kie reprimands JJ with low mutterings while Sarah hits his knee. John B covers for him. “What JJ means is that everyone knows what a prick Rafe is. Just surprising someone as nice as you did.”

“How did that happen anyways?” Sarah pipes up. “Sorry to ask but my brother is crazy.”

You tell them the full story, unlike the version you had given your girlfriends, feeling a bit better knowing at least someone knows the truth. That Rafe won’t be able to hold it over your head with them.

“He must’ve taken that picture when I was sleeping, I never would’ve let him if I was awake.” You shrug lamely, that hot ball of fire of anxiety flaring in the uncomfortable silence. Sarah reaches over to place a hand on your knee, a comforting smile on her face.

“What a fucking creep.” JJ spits out, it looks like he wants to punch something. “We gotta delete that picture off his phone.”

“Yeah!” Pope exclaims. “We could break into Tannyhill and get ahold of it. Or better yet, break it.”

John B perks up like a puppy. “Sarah, you could get us in, right?”

“Of course, I know where he hides the key to his room.”

“No, no, please, don’t –” This feels like it's not the first time they’ve impulsively schemed before.

“Let’s do it tonight –”

“Perfect!”

“Me and JJ can –”

“No!” You yell.

Everyone’s head snaps at you, shocking even yourself when you realize you’re standing.

“Don’t you want that picture deleted?” Kie asks, tone condescending and face one of disgust.

“Of course, I do!” Anxiety fizzes at your chest, your arms crossing tightly across your chest. “But I don’t want you guys to get in trouble for me. This is my mistake; I can fix it myself.”

“We can’t just let him hold onto it; he could send it to anyone! Show anyone!” JJ panics.

“Let us help you,” Pope says in a gentle tone.

You’re shaking your head stubbornly as they talk over each other. “No. I can’t ask that of you guys. I’ll figure something out.”

They don’t easily back down you find, which in other circumstances you would appreciate. After more arguing and denying their help, they eventually give in with forlorn faces. It’s awkward and you look out the windows.

“Anyone wanna teach me how to surf?”

After trial and error, you finally get to ride the wave without falling off. It only took you three hours. You scream in victory, pumping your arms which unstable you, and slip into the water. Laughing as you come back up, you’re pushed right back down by JJ and John B ambushing you, lifting you back to hold you like a trophy. You can’t stop laughing as everyone cheers.

Breathless, you trudge out of the water and flop down next to Sarah. The others stay with the waves. Their lessons distracted you from your current situation and you genuinely had fun head barreling into cold waves again and again.

“My body is going to hurt tomorrow; I just know it.” You sigh lightly. “Totally worth it though.”

Sarah smiles at you, and after a moment of looking at you knocks her shoulders with yours. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry about Rafe. Our family doesn’t know where he came from, I think he was switched at birth.”

You sigh deeper this time. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

“I know but being on the end of Rafe’s wrath isn’t fun. Trust me, I’ve experienced it one too many times.” You see sincere worry etched on her face. “Just…try and avoid him if you can.”

You slowly bob your head along in agreement, eyebrows shooting up to look at her. “Like the plague.” You say seriously.

Sarah’s lips press together in a smile before giggles ring out as you lean into each other. Comparing Rafe to other diseases and disasters with Sarah until your stomach hurts from laughter.

Shared laughter in times of pain feels better than crying alone.

🌙

The swoosh of the glass door opening has you arousing from a deep sleep. Surfing had exhausted you, so you’re slow to realize that someone is crawling into bed with you.

“Lauren?” Your eyes are still closed as you're curled onto your side. She has the tendency to come into your room during the night if she’s had a nightmare and sleep with you. The bed dips and sways with the gentle movement, but she doesn’t answer. “You’re such a baby, what nightmare did you have now?” You sleepily ask, turning onto your back to look at her.

A scream scratches at your throat, but the sound gets trapped by a hand.  

Above you is Rafe. Strands of hair shadow his eyes, his hand pressing your head to the pillow. Too shocked to do anything but blink up at him, your heart’s a hummingbird as it rams at the cage of your ribs. His blue eyes are steady as they stare at you, motionless like marble, just his chest expanding with each breath. It's silent as your eyes bounce along his face, from his set jaw to the straining tendons of his neck.

It's a limbo of eye contact, yours swimming with fearful tears as he barely blinks. Finally, Rafe inches his head down, nose skimming your cheek, the tip nudging at your healing cut. It circles to the apple of your cheek, tickling your peach fuzz as he makes his way to your ear.

A heavy inhale, then a groan. Rafe whispers your name.

Your body comes back to life, ankles kicking up into the air, struggling to open your mouth wider to scream. It’s easy for Rafe to grip your jaw tightly, the heel of his other hand pressing at the hollow of your shoulder as fingers curl in to anchor you down. His beautiful sharp features are pinched in anger, pink lips hidden in a thin line.

“Did you think I wouldn’t come for you, little angel?” His voice is a husk of a whisper, short nails grooving their way in the soft flesh of your cheeks.

You squeal in pain, in fear as you see violent desire burn in his eyes. There’s no anger overclouding you this time, no clever idea coming to mind. Just the pang of your heart as you realize you're entirely alone with him.

It doesn’t stop you from fighting. Balling your hands and hitting at his chest, forcing your elbows to straighten to push at his face. Rafe scowls, leaning his weight on his hand over your mouth, your teeth painfully grinding at the inside of your mouth as his other hand wrestles to take both your wrists. You push and push, moving as fast and hard as you can but it takes Rafe a minute to ensnare your wrists and pin them over your head.

He pants out loud, hard gusts of air while boring down on you. Fingers squeezing your wrists hard enough to where you feel skin move and glide over the bone, chafing together. You struggle not to make any noise, so he doesn’t get the satisfaction of knowing he’s hurting you.

“No pogues to save you here,” Rafe smiles cruelly. Your eyes don’t hold back the disdain you feel, a muffled grunt tickling his palm when you arch and throw your body back. “Your little tantrums aren’t going to work.” He responds, twisting at your wrists to make you cry out. “Now… are you going to be nice and quiet?”

His forceful hold on your mouth pulls on your face, forcing you to nod up and down. Rafe smiles wide with a condescending coo. “Good girl.”

Ever so slowly, he relives the pressure on your mouth. As much as you want to scream for help, you stay quiet knowing he can simply overpower you. You’ll have to wait for a better chance to escape.

Rafe waits, his hand at the ready for any small sound you’d make. You refuse to speak. He’s the one that broke into your room, surely, he can start the conversation he so desperately wants to have. You force yourself to look bored, though your body is rigid with fear and primed for flight.

Rafe half smiles. “You know… if you needed surfing lessons you could’ve just asked me.”

Your flat expression breaks. “Have you been stalking me?”

You don’t know why you’re surprised, after all, he knew where your rental was and broke in, but knowing he watched from afar is somehow more disturbing.

“Yeah, watched those pogues put their hands all over you, dirtying you with their touch.” His free hand strokes gently on your jawline to your chin, fingers drafting over your throat, a light press to the divot between your collarbones. The touch warrants unwanted goosebumps, you can feel the strength he holds back.

There are a couple of options you have right now.

You can interrogate him on why he’s here? How does he know where to find you? Is he going to delete that picture? You’d waste your breath however, Rafe could easily dodge them.

You can beg him to get off you, pout and cry to appeal to a softer, more rational side of him. You seriously doubt Rafe is ever rational.

They led to the same position – with him over you and in control.

One option left.

“I loved the way they touched me.”

Getting him angry.

And it’s so easy.

His blue eyes darken as he squints, teeth revealing themselves as his upper lip curls, lowering his face close to you again. His anger is near boiling as he opens his mouth to retaliate but with satisfaction, you steamroll over him.    

“Especially when JJ did. Had a much better time with them than with you and that shitty coke you gave me!” You spit out.

That should get him pissed off enough that he’ll loosen his grip, and you’ll be quick to take advantage, you’ll poke at his eyes, and then…

Rafe smiles. A genuine smile, the anger slipping off like oil. A curious tilt to his head before he chuckles. “Coke? Is that what I told you?” He laughs again, boisterous. “I’m sorry baby I think I switched my baggies that night. I gave you that Special K.”

Your head jerks back in confusion, eyebrows creasing as you blink rapidly. Fuck, you hate him for making you ask: “What’s that?”

Rafe enjoys the way he has flipped the tables so quickly on you, laughter still reverberating in his chest. “You don’t know what K is?” You shake your head. “Y’know, K. Vitamin K? Ket?” Rafe hums, delighted.

Fingertips resume their trail across your chest when he finally answers. “Ketamine.”

Ketamine? Isn’t that a horse tranquilizer? Your eyes wander off to look behind him at the wall, disoriented with frustration at yourself and loathing for him. Vaguely, you remember feeling different that night, not the typical high you got with coke. It felt almost indescribable, dream-like. Like your heart was floating in your chest. Deep down you knew it wasn’t fully coke, but to learn it was a different drug entirely…You should’ve never taken anything from him. Why did you ever leave Louise’s side that night?

“It made you nice and relaxed for me,” Rafe continues during your silence. Taking advantage of your deep thinking to smell at your hairline. “Made you so damn needy.” He groans, thrusting his hips, and only now do you feel his hard-on. “Let’s recreate that night.”

Your eyes snap back to him, squealing and bucking like a wild horse. “In your fucking dreams!”

Rafe twists your wrists, the rub burning with each struggle you give. “Oh, you don’t wanna know what I dream about.” His insistent grinding forces your thighs apart. “Should I show you?”

Abruptly, his hand is pulling at your pajama shorts. The fabric cuts into your squirming hips as you hear the pop, pop, pop of seams breaking. Your erratic movements don’t deter him, your shorts are pulled off and reveal plain panties. Letting out a loud cry, you hope your family will hear, though they’re on different floors and on the opposite side of the house.

“Oh, no. None of that.” Rafe patronizes and before you can blink, cloth is in your mouth. “Remember these? Kept them as a little memento of you.”

You gag as he keeps pushing it further in, your tongue flat beneath the material making you drool rapidly, soaking it. Coughing makes it worse, that instinctual urge to spew out the uncomfortable presence strong but Rafe holds it there until drool is pooling and you're forced to swallow some of it.

“Can you taste my cum?”

His question is genuine and involuntary you sense the taste. The tang of something stale fills your tongue. It’s then, do you realize that your mouth is stuffed with your missing underwear. You kick your legs out angrily, a hidden tear skipping down as you gag again. Rafe huffs out laughter like it's no effort to hold you with one hand, arm bulging just the slightest. All you can see is his stupid face, but the rustling of clothes is undeniable, and it isn’t yours this time.

Rafe pushes his shorts down just enough to slip his hard cock out, the tip bumping on your clothed cunt. Your hips jolt back as Rafe settles his knees wider, rotating your thighs up so your feet aren’t grounded on the bed. It fucks with your balance and therefore your struggles, legs hanging up uselessly. Desperately, you shake your head and widen your eyes innocently, hoping to find some mercy inside him. Rafe coos at you, telling you how pretty you look, his fingers deftly hooking your panties to the side, revealing your bare pussy to him. It’s humiliating, the way he looks down at you, like a stolen prize he gets to devour.

You expect to feel his cock, pushing into you but you're surprised when it's his fingers petting at your slit. Whining, you shift your hips around trying to invade him, his touch oddly soft and exploring. Thumb pressing at your clit, circling and experimenting between various pressure. Rafe smirks when a strained moan is muffled.

“I dreamt about those lovely sounds you made. You could hardly get them out from how high you were.” Rafe reminisces, eyes bouncing between your face and pussy.

Fingers twisting, he angles his index and middle finger into you without warning. Squeezing your eyes shut, you bite on the fabric, ignoring the wet sensation covering his fingers. Shallowly, Rafe pumps his fingers in and out, a slight curl to them to hit at more sensitive spots. Pleasure steadily builds, the swipe of his thumb pulls at the hood of your clit, exposing the sensitive nub. The arch of his thumb is then rubbing on it, high whines stifled as your legs jerk.

His fingers pull out, your eyes popping open when you feel wet flesh trace at your lips. Vision blurry with tears, it takes a moment for everything to come into focus. Rafe is breathing heavily, mouth open in a half smile, fingertips smearing your juices across your lips. With you immobilized, Rafe looks like a sleep paralysis demon come to life. Hunched over as he nurses on your fear with pleasure. Rafe can’t keep his eyes still now, roving around your face, your tears to your chest. Dragging his hand down, he lifts your tank and reveals your bare tits. Your nipples are hard as you cave your chest in, trying to hide. The graze of his touch turns piercing when he twists your nipple, cruel laughter mixing with your yelps. He goes from one nipple to the other. Twisting, plucking, squeezing, making your nipples the most sensitive they’ve ever been. Sensitive skin reddening with the constant rough treatment. A single sweep of fingertips have you bowing your back in agonized pleasure, your tears soaking into your hairline.

One last squeeze and then Rafe’s hand is tugging your underwear to the side. Wildly, you shake your head no, grunting screams that shake your throat as your legs tense and kick. Your feet only find air and your throat finds Rafe’s hand around it. A warning squeeze.

Rafe chuckles, mocking a pout. “Don’t make me drug you again.”

He lets go of your throat to grip his cock, slapping it on your slit a few times, sliding it through your folds to coat himself. The tip pokes at your hole which makes your body tense up, but Rafe follows your body like the waves, pushing in and then back.

“Gotta relax or this’ll hurt far more than you’ll like,” Rafe mutters.

Your panties hide your curses at him, your body doing the opposite as your entrance tightens more. Rafe’s eyes flicker up at you in irritation. He crooks his head and forces halfway in. Even with the panties absorbing your screams, the gurgling of them is clearly heard, body twisting this way and that. Your tears run like constant rivers, the thick width of his cock burning its way in as you’re forced to stretch open. You work your pelvis floor and lower ab muscles to squeeze him out. Rafe grits his teeth as he stops moving his hips.

“Fuck.”

You’re too rigid for him to keep sliding in, not wet enough for his length to sneak deeper. His the biggest you’ve ever had, and you aren’t prepped enough to take him. Rafe’s determined though, rolling, and thrusting, filling you until his hips are flushed to you. Groans spill from him, some of them overpowering your own. The pressure of his cock is deep, that uncomfortable twinge pulling at the inside of your belly button. Once he has every inch inside you, he stalls for a few breaths, his eyes half lidden as he stares at the conjunction between you.

When he begins to pull back, you expect him to go all the way, but Rafe is always full of surprises. He pulls back a bit, only to ram right back in. It hurts to be so split open like this, knocking at your cervix with each harsh nudge, balls slapping at your ass. The grip on your wrists has made the skin numb, the other hand pushing down on your stomach when you arch your back to escape. You feel so full like you're going to burst at the seams like you’re breaking.

His hand creeps down to your hip, fingers gripping so hard the flesh is bubbled between the web of his fingers, pressing hard until your hips are tilting against the bed. The angle allows his cock to massage your top walls more acutely, slicking his cock to smoothly thrust in and out. It’s humiliating to be so wet for something your mind knows is wrong, a war on your body as the pleasure is infusing through the roadways of your nerve endings until your whole body is under a constant state of quivering.

“F-Fuck, I remember every second of that night.” Rafe grunts, head hanging as he watches the way his dick glistens before snapping his hips again. “The way you opened for me, so sweet. So eager.” The animalistic moans he lets out are almost as obscene as the sound of your slippery pussy.

“So fucking – shit – tighter now. Trying to push me out. Not goin’ anywhere until I cum in this pussy.”

The bed shakes back on the wall from how hard he drives his cock down, the slide getting easier with every thrust. The smell of him is tickling your senses suddenly and you realize you’ve closed your eyes. His mouth is hot along your trembling skin, lips smoothing the goosebumps that don’t seem to go away. Noisy, sloppy kisses imprint on your collarbones to your tits, a keening moan heard in your throat when his mouth envelopes one nipple. You almost forgot how sensitive they were. Your ribs twitch from the sucking, the tip of his tongue torturing you as it sends electric tremors down to your stomach. It's like you’re walking backwards to your doom because you don’t even know you're at the edge until you’re tripping at the point of no return when your body freezes.

It's painful when you cum, like a knot has wormed around your muscles, locking up in a spasm. An aching hurt of pleasure twists you up, coiling like a snake as you just keep cumming because Rafe won’t stop. Won’t stop his brutal pounding as he praises you with good girl, that’s it, take it, take it. Won’t stop pushing his cock in like he’s trying to make a home inside you, right underneath your ribcage.

Rafe’s moans reach their own high peak, vibrating into your breastbone and somewhere in the fog, you realize your wrists are free. Both of his arms are tucked under your back, crashing your chests together. The jerking of his cock feels odd in you, knowing he’s pouring his cum into you, but too fucked out to do anything. All you can think is thank God for birth control.

Time slows, Rafe holding you with relaxing muscles, barely there, slow kisses anywhere he can reach. The gentleness annoys you. With what little strength you have, you push at him until he lands next to you on the bed. Coughing while you gag, you take your drenched panties out of your mouth, heavy drool stringing along and then breaking as you throw them wherever, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Get out,” Your voice is raspy. “You got what you wanted."

Before you can move out of the bed to clean yourself up and cry in the bathroom, Rafe’s arm hooks over your stomach. Warm breath fogs over your shoulder and you grimace when his wet cock nudges at the back of your thigh. You haven’t gained enough energy to fully struggle in his hold, just a growl and a weak elbow to his abs.

“Aw, sweet angel.” He kisses the nook of your neck. “That night…Did you think I only fucked you once?”

[c0nsumemy5oul]

Special Someone on the Side

"You're very kind but I'm afraid it's unlawful, sir." "What do you mean?" "She's married." "I see." "She's married to a British officer." "Oh shit."

No one asked for it, but here are my thoughts on this interaction:

There are things between the lines!

and I wrote them.

Enjoy :)

Hamburr friendship :3 (mentioned hamiliza and lams) 629 words.

It was a pleasant night after Hamilton’s wedding. Eliza was bidding her family goodbye while he was supposed to do the same with his friends, but here they were, getting even more drunk. 

Burr showed up, seemingly failing to have talked to Alexander during the event and was trying his best to ignore the boys and their teasing. 

He was almost done congratulating Hamilton on his marriage and his position as aide-de-camp to Washington, when Laurens deemed the subject too boring and changed it. 

“Well, well, I heard,” He got uncomfortably close to Burr. “You got a special someone on the side, Burr.” He shot Alexander a sneaky glance.

“Is that so?” Hamilton laughed at his boyfriend's antics.

“What’re you tryna hide, Burr?” Laurens slurred in Burr’s ear who’d reached his limit. 

“I should go.” 

Hamilton instantly disagreed. “No, these guys should go.” 

“What?” Laurens turned to Hamilton in thinly veiled betrayal. “No!” 

“Leave us alone.” Hamilton gave him a pointed look. I’m getting us the gossip. 

“Man!” Laurens rolled his eyes fondly, grabbing Lafayette and Mulligan as they stalked away, resigned. 

Being with Hamilton alone seemed to make Burr slightly nervous. 

“It’s alright, Burr.” Alexander smiled a little. “I wish you’d brought this girl with you tonight.” Hamilton couldn’t help seeing that Burr was lacking a plus one at the wedding. 

“You’re very kind,” Burr looked down, fidgeting with the handkerchief in his hand. Hamilton spotted the initials T.B.P. Now who could that belong to? The special someone on the side, perhaps? “But I’m afraid it’s unlawful, sir.” 

Oh? 

Is it? 

In what way? 

Hamilton found himself thinking of his nights with Laurens, in their tent, under the cover of night. 

Had Burr also found a lad during their battles? 

“What do you mean?” Hamilton asked, a light tone and a smirk emerging with the words. If Burr was going to confess something, he wanted him to know he’d be accepted. 

“She’s married.” 

Oh. Hamilton deflated. “I see.”

No matter, they might still be able to work around this. Burr could be with his beau regardless. With a simple divorce, or even a duel for the lady’s honor, it could be manageable. As long as she isn’t— 

“She’s married to a British officer.” 

“Oh shit.” 

Hamilton hadn’t realized he’d said it outloud until he heard Burr chuckle self-deprecatingly. 

“Congrats again, Alexander.” Burr turned to go but Hamilton’s mind was still reeling. 

There must still be a way for his friend and the one he loves to be together. 

“Smile more.” Burr was walking away. 

They could be happy and in love and together without a random British officer in their way. 

“I’ll see you on the other side of the war.” Wait, what? He’ll simply give up like that? 

“I will never understand you.” Hamilton found himself saying. 

Burr turned around, confused. They were alone on the terrace, the quiet lull of people leaving the building could be heard distantly. 

“If you love this woman, go get her!” Yes, he might lose his head in the process, but for love! Isn’t he willing to risk everything to get what he wants? “What are you waiting for?” 

Burr eyed Alexander carefully, trying to discern something before he sighed. “I’ll see you on the other side of the war.” 

He’s beyond saving. Hamilton sighed back, resigned. “I’ll see you on the other side of the war.” 

When Washington had finally given him a command, Hamilton made sure to wound and kill every single British officer he came into contact with. 

To this day, he’s not sure if he did kill Theodosia’s late-husband personally, but she’s living happily with Burr in married bliss and having Hamilton and his wife over for tea and biscuits weekly. 

So Burr won anyway.

[asteria-argo]

👀👀👀

a scene that is extremely subject to change at this point in time, I give you my most anticipated scene in the next chapter of To All The Better Places, Jamie meeting Ted, Sam and Roy again.

Sam tries to picture what he thinks the famed Mr Baker might look like. Sam had heard nothing but kind things, from Principal Madden, from Lauren at the front desk, even from a couple of students that Sam had not spoken too but overheard excitedly telling each other about Mr Baker having arrived for the day. When Sam pictures someone like that, he pictures Ted, or his father. Someone approachable, kind, soft around the edges. So, it is very fair to say that it takes him off guard when after a moments hesitation the door is pushed open, and Jamie Tartt steps into the room. He looks— different, to the last time Sam saw him so many years ago in city blue with his hair slicked back. His hair was longer now, looser. His clothes were, while still garish and full of personality, professional. Slacks, and a colourful jumper, a collared shirt peaking out from underneath it. Roy made a noise beside Sam that could only be described as a furious growl. “Perfect,” Madden smiles, either not hearing Roy, or choosing to ignore it as he gestured to Jamie who was standing stock still in the doorway, a look of shock on his face equal to Sam’s own. There was a lanyard around his neck covered in keys. “Sam, Coach Lasso, Coach Kent, this is-” “Jamie.” Ted breaths looking shell shocked. Sam didn’t blame him, feeling much the same. It had been years, since anyone had heard or seen from Jamie. Not even Keeley had been able to get in contact with him. While Sam had not particularly liked Jamie, he had been worried for him. Sam knows Ted had been worried for him as well. And now he was standing in front of them, in a dingy principals office on a Tuesday morning looking so very different. “You’re-” “Jamie Baker.” Jamie lurched forward suddenly, shaken out of his daze, his hand outstretched towards Ted in polite greeting, a forcefully pleasant and impassive smile on his face, as if this was their very first time meeting, no history to be found between them as Ted reaches up to shake his hand automatically. “it’s nice to meet you.”