#home is where the hart is

[makiitoh]

IT’S TIME TO COME HOMEEEEE

[whitehartlane]

"You were never leaving Tottenham, were you? [...] I've said this before, but when I left I went to QPR, Portsmouth, Aston Villa, Norwich on loan, Southampton, Liverpool, Portsmouth again and I came back to Tottenham and Ledley was in the same place I'd left him."

THAT LEDLEY KING EPISODE with Peter Crouch, Chris Stark, and Steve Sidwell

[blossom--of--snow]

“Max in Love,” that episode where they’re just…not concerned about all their shit getting stolen but they’re VERY concerned about their father

[wthifdn]

Did you know that Briar named Where the Hart Is specifically with their late grandparents in mind?

Their grandfather and abuela were Briar’s second set of parents, offering Briar a sense of home and stability at all times, and especially when things at home were a bit rocky.

The couple were the definite patriarch and matriarch of the family, with strong values and warm hearts. Their home was the center of every holiday, and the safe base for their children when they couldn’t make ends meet elsewhere.

Papa was an incredibly smart, wise, compassionate man. There are many stories about him doing things like chatting with a phone operator when lines were jammed on New Year’s Eve (before cell phones, of course) and making sure she was still having a good evening despite work, to exaggerations about him having read the entire dictionary, because he read books like fish drink water, and every time he came across a word he didn’t know, he would look it up, and then make an effort to incorporate it into his everyday vocabulary.

He would have been 84 today, and we like to think he’d be very proud of everything Briar’s done, and everything Where the Hart Is is setting out to do.🥹❤️

🏡🪷✨

[deadman-is-a-moron]

Ok last post about Agatha All Along (maybe) but I wanna admire how the town just let Agatha do her curse bullshit for 3 years and even took care to deliver her groceries. Like the scene where Agnes yells in the library was real and Dotty just had to entertain her. When the chief told her to go home? Yeah that was probably real he just needed this senile woman to return home. Even Sharon/Hart was kind enough to gently remind her of her real name.

They probably thought Agatha tried to save them from Wanda and decided the least they could do was take care of their nosey and occasionally delusional neighbor.

[sserafics]

VALENTINE — henry h. x fem reader

use of y/n, reader is rays niece, enemies to lovers? fluff, set in s4-5, 2nd person pov

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (heavily inspired by s3 e1 of game shakers!)

your eyes scan the room as you stand in the kitchen of the hart’s home, unsure of why you’re even here.

your gaze drifts to your uncle, who is of course, flirting with henry’s mom. oh right, he brought you here, claiming you need to “socialize more and leave the man cave more often.” though it’s obvious he just wanted you to come so he could have an excuse to hit on henry’s mom. since this party is mostly teenagers, it’d be odd if a grown man just showed up alone. so, that’s why you’re here.

you sigh before taking a sip from the cola in your hand, glancing around to see the familiar faces surrounding you. piper, who threw this godforsaken valentine’s day party, charlotte, aaaand… henry. he’s talking to some girl, who you know is named valarie, but that’s about it.

an odd feeling bubbles up in your stomach at the sight of her leaning closer to him, laughing flirtatiously.

you scoff and turn away, trying not to think of the scene unfolding before you, but your gaze keeps moving back to them, the sight making your stomach twist in a way you’re unfamiliar with. you decide after a moment of watching to just leave. it’s not like your uncle is going to notice anyway, he’s too busy flexing his muscles for henry’s mom.

as you walk to the front door, you hear the sound of henry’s laugh ring through the music, making you roll your eyes at the flutter you felt in your stomach after hearing his laugh.

the cool air of the night hits your face as you step outside, grabbing your phone from your bag and opening the uber app, scheduling one. it arrives almost immediately, and you get in the car.

you look up as you settle in the backseat of the car, about to tell the driver where you need to go, but the sight shocks you. no driver? you’re about to speak, when a voice, monotonous and robot like, rings out.

“welcome to your self driving car, what is your destination?”

“oh, uhm.. just take me to junk n’ stuff.” you reply, still a bit weirded out by this car, but still you divert your attention to your phone, still trying to get your mind off of the scene at the party. the car begins driving.

“yeah, so i’m thinking ‘bout starting a band-“ henry began, talking to another girl who just arrived at the party.

charlotte suddenly rushes to him, her phone in her hand and her eyes wide. “henry! y/n needs help!” she shows him her phone, where a text from you reads that your uber is a self driving car and is out of control. the text also reads to send your uncle, not henry.

he resists the urge to scowl at the last part of your text, before excusing himself from the girl he was talking to and rushing to the front porch, popping a gumball and transforming into kid danger.

“damn it, y/n.” he mumbles before pulling his phone out and scrolling to find your contact, calling you.

“opening sunroof.” the robotic voice of the car speaks.

“what?- i didn’t even mention the sunroof-“ you blurt out, your voice tinged with panic as the car swerves, narrowly missing an old woman who was for some reason, walking in the middle of the street.

“y/n! just tell me when you’re about to pass swellview junior high!” henry’s voice rings out from your phone, reminding you he’s on the phone.

“what? oh- uh- yeah, i’m about to pass it now-!” you reply, trying your best to look out the windows to see where you are, but the car is speeding too fast to really tell.

a thump on the top of the car makes you yelp, accidentally dropping your phone onto the seat next to yours.

“i’m fine, actually!” you shout when you see henry on top of the car, peeking in through the sunroof to try and make out what’s going on inside. the jealousy from seeing him with valarie earlier bubbling up again.

“oh really? because it looks like your stuck in an out of control car, so.” he retorts sarcastically, sounding equally as annoyed as you do. you scoff but it quickly turns into a gasp when he drops down into the car, landing in the front seat.

“jesus! a warning would be nice next time!” you yell, glaring at the back of his head.

“yeah, okay, i’ll keep that in mind for the next time you get stuck in a self driving car!”

he tries to take control of the car, gripping the steering wheel, but the car jolts to the opposite side.

“don’t touch my wheel.” the car rings out in that same, robot like voice, jerking the car to the side again.

“come on-!” he murmurs, still trying to gain control of the car, but to no avail.

“closing sunroof.”

“what?- i didn’t even mention the sunroof-!” he exclaims, utterly confused.

“she’s obnoxious! just stop the car!!” you shout, holding onto the passenger seat in front of you for dear life, suddenly wondering why you didn’t put your seatbelt on.

he groans and pulls out his phone, scrolling and finding schwoz’s contact, quickly pressing call.

“are you seriously making a call right now-?” you ask, irritation lacing your voice.

“i need absolute silence.” he cuts you off, holding a hand up while he silently prays that schwoz will pick up.

“are you serio-“ you began but cut yourself off when schwoz’s voice spoke from his phone.

henry quickly explains what’s happening, his voice panicked. he puts the phone call on speaker phone, placing the phone on the dashboard.

“open up the front panel,” schwoz deadpans, his voice slightly muffled as if he’s eating on the other line. typical.

henry easily pops open the front panel, using some sort of gadget from the man cave, as usual.

“okay, it’s open- now what?”

“look for a red wire.”

“what?! there’s all kinds of red wires, man-“ henry tries to keep the car steady on the road— while also trying to figure out which red wire he’s supposed to be looking for, but the car suddenly swerves to the left, practically throwing you against the window.

henry’s head snaps back to you, noticing your wide eyes and he realizes he’s not going to be able to stop the car this way. he mumbles something under his breath and then moves to the back seat, sitting next to you.

“protect your eyes!” he tells you, reaching into his pocket and grabbing his laser.

“protect my eyes? what- why?-“ you began, but before you could finish, he pulled you against him and hid your face in his chest, making sure to cover his own face as he used his laser to zap at the front panel repeatedly, effectively short circuiting the car.

immediately after, he lets go of you and leans forward, taking hold of the steering wheel, making sure to guide the car to the side of the road as it slowly stops, letting out a sigh of relief after. he slumps against the back seat, panting.

…

an awkward silence fills the car as you fiddle with your bag, tracing one of the straps with your finger. the atmosphere feels tense yet oddly serene, the arguments that usually surround you two absent in the moment.

“why’d you come?” you ask after a while, your voice quieter than usual.

a beat passes without an answer.

“ray was too busy hitting on my mom.” he speaks after a while, glancing out the window awkwardly. that’s not the reason, and you both know it.

he transforms back to his regular self, the pop of his bubble gum causing you to turn back to look at him, suddenly becoming acutely aware of how close he’s sitting to you. your arms are brushing against one another, his face now fully exposed without his kid danger mask.

you reach for the door, hoping to get out of this awkward moment, but it doesn’t open. you sigh.

turning back to face him, you finally decide to vocalize the question that’s been lingering in your mind since you saw him at the party earlier.

“who’s valarie?”

he blinks, looking confused before smiling smugly, which makes you groan, turning away and facing the window again.

“we used to go to camp together, years ago.” he replies, though you can practically hear the smirk on his lips. “why? you jealous?”

you scoff and finally realize where you are. outside of his house again. of course, all of this trouble and you’re not even at junk n’ stuff.

“y/n.”

the serious tone in his voice makes you turn back to look at him. you opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, he cups your cheek and leans in, pausing just before your lips meet, as if to give you an out if you don’t want this. you meet his gaze before leaning in, your lips connecting in a kiss.

it was a short, sweet kiss, yet it felt like it lasted centuries. he pulls back slowly and you open your eyes to see him already looking at you, forehead pressed against yours gently.

“happy valentines day, y/n.”

(a/n) ahhh i finally wrote my first fic!! this took me so long but i like how it turned outtt, i feel like the ending might’ve been a little ooc for him and it kinda sucked 😞 but it’s almost midnight so im posting it 🤞🏻anyway thanks for reading!! it was pretty long so sorry abt that 😭

[vidals-harkness]

hey! Could I make a request of more agathario as users mothers? Reader goes with Agatha on the witches road and they reunite with mami Rio? And reader is young? Thanks!🤍

hola mi vida (agatha harkness, rio vidal)

summary: when mama takes you with her on the witch’s road, what can she do when you meet your mami again, after all the years of her vanishing?

fic type: fluff

pairings: agatha harkness x child!reader, rio vidal x child!reader

word count: 2.3k

It was just a normal afternoon—the air was calm, quiet, cool with the shy onset of autumn. The park was not deserted, as you sat on the swings, using a stick to trace patterns on the ground. Or rather, Wiccan symbols that the town children always saw you making (and made a point to stay away from you about).

It was only when you skipped home, sage and stick in hand, that you saw the door blown down, a random boy in the hallway all tied up, and your mother going off her rocker.

“Mama?” You questioned, confused.

“No time to talk, hon, grab that bag and let’s get in the car,” she said, pointing at your school bag on a chair.

“But mama we don’t��“ you began, confused, but she simply grabbed your bag, picked you up and whisked you away into the car. Or rather, Teen’s car.

“You trust me?” She asked, buckling you in.

You nodded, fidgeting with your stick. “Mhm,” you hummed.

She smiled and winked, linking her pinky with yours, kissing it gently. “Mama always protects you, okay?”

“Okay,” you giggled.

“So…she’s yours?” Teen asked, pointing at you in the backseat where you sat, playing with some sort of wooden puzzle from your bag.

“No,” Agatha said, sarcastically. “I picked up a random six year old in the park cause I’m a pedophile,”

At his gobsmacked expression, she frowned, irritated, “Of course she’s mine, pet, look! Don’t you see the resemblance?”

You look at Teen through the rearview mirror and smiled angelically. Apart from maybe your facial structure you took after Rio more than her.

“Doesn’t matter, just drive,” she sighed, irritated.

The first stop was Lilia’s house, which seemed like a nice place. Except the energy felt a little too buzzed for your liking.

“Alright hon, you don’t talk unless I tell you to, okay?” Agatha said, kneeling at your level, a smile on her face. “And if Mama makes a silly voice, you don’t question it,”

You nodded, smiling at her. “Okay, mama!”

“That’s my girl,” she said, pinching your cheek gently, standing up and putting her hair in a bun before wrapping a shawl around her shoulders.

The place was as odd as its energy, with you disliking the sound of clattering beads from the bead curtain, hand holding your favourite stick (rather a crooked wand Agatha didn't use anymore).

"Welcome to the curious," said Lilia, appearing from the back room.

You looked at the lady, frowning, "You're kooky,"

"Now, now, sweetheart, we ain't rude to the nice lady," Agatha spoke in a thick Southern accent. "Good day, madam, Oh. Thank you so much for seein’ us. We are hopin’ for a miracle today,"

You looked at Agatha weirdly, confused with her accent. She never talked like this usually...did she?

"This is my boy, Beauford, and my princess Charlotte here," she smiled, pointing at you both. When Teen went to protest, she shut him up, "He doesn’t talk much. He’s got social anxiety. Their daddy recently passed, and we miss him somethin’ awful."

A long while and several witches later, you stood in Agatha's basement with the other witches, happily vibing with their rendition of the Ballad. However, just as the door made itself known, the Salem Seven crashed into the house, Teen coming downstairs in a flurry of panic to scoop you up and dash down the Road's entrance.

The first trial passed, with only one casualty--Mrs. Davis, but it left you mostly shaken up. You had never seen so many witches hallucinate single-handedly before.

The forest was quiet, the only sound being that of the shovel scraping the ground as Teen dug a grave for Mrs. Hart.

You knelt next to the dead woman, tilting your head as you peered at her, poking her with your stick gently.

“Mama?” You asked, looking at Agatha. “Mama, she feels very not-alive,”

“Yeah hon,” she smiled, side-eyeing Jen. “Because Jen didn’t give her enough antidote so she is now not-alive,”

“Are you really badmouthing me to a six year old, Agatha?” Jen deadpanned. “How petty can you be?”

“Very, apparently,” Lilia rolled her eyes.

“Kooky lady is correct,” you nodded, earning a snicker from Alice.

“I’m not kooky!” Lilia scowled at you, only to receive an angelic smile in return.

You hummed to yourself as you walked around the clearing while the adults and Teen argued.

At the mention of an incomplete coven, you tugged at Agatha’s sleeve, asking softly, “Mrs. Hart wasn’t a witch, so if this is the Witch’s Road, can’t you call for a green witch?”

“Yes, thank you, little one!” Teen said, pointing at you. “How does a six year old have more brains than you all combined?”

“People have told me I’m something called ‘insightful’,” you shrugged.

“More like irritating,” Lilia scowled, looking at you.

“She isn’t the one bickering like a bunch of old ladies, is she?” Agatha shrugged. “Now come on, we have a spell to cast. Vamonos,”

You skipped after her, excitedly, helping her map out the person shape on the ground with your stick.

“Am I helping nice, mama?” You asked her, grinning proudly.

She nodded, fixing the outline, kneeling at the border of it. “Oh absolutely, sweet girl. The most helpful out of all these idiots,”

You smiled angelically, making her mutter, “You sure as hell didn’t get that smile from me, that’s for sure,”

As the witches gathered to start their spell, you stood with them—young magic was the most effective, honestly.

“May she be strong and wise, and the best at her craft,” said Lilia, placing down a crystal.

“May she be smart and not annoying,” said Agatha, placing another thing down, adding, “And also, not super political,”

“May she be pleasant looking,” said Jen, wrinkling her nose.

“Can she bring some Advil?” Alice sighed, placing her crystal down.

“Can she annoy the kooky lady?” You asked as Agatha tapped your shoulder to put your offering down. “May she be…fun,”

“I’m not kooky!” Lilia snapped at you.

“Are too!” You giggled, sticking your tongue out at her.

“Y/n, for the love of god just behave,” Agatha sighed. “I can’t deal with this right now,”

“Now what?” Teen interjected.

“Now we wait,” said Lilia. “True witchcraft takes time. The spell must marinate, gestate—“

She was interrupted by a hand sticking out of the mud behind you all, causing a scream to erupt from everyone.

Agatha shoved you back, arms out protectively as you giggled excitedly at the sight.

“Agatha, what did you do?!” Jen exclaimed.

“What do you mean, what did I do? This was very clearly a group effort!” She protested.

“It’s so silly!” You squealed, laughing at the cracking noises the witch’s bones made as she emerged from the ground.

“Your kid is a psycho like you!” Jen said, judging you as you laughed like this was a particularly funny episode of Bluey.

“She’s got character!” Agatha retorted sharply.

“Oh, my God, did we turn Mrs. Hart into a zombie?” Teen exclaimed.

“What spell did we cast?” Alice cried out.

Panicked and looking into Teen’s spell book. “Why is the print so small?” She wailed.

The witch righted herself, and you peeked from behind Agatha, intrigued and suddenly elated to see who it was.

Mami.

“MAMI!” You squealed, about to run to Rio, happy beyond belief.

“Heard you guys were having a party?” Rio gasped. She looked over at you, winking, “Hola nena,”

“How did you…” Agatha breathed, horrified, keeping you back despite your indignant squirming.

“I was in the neighborhood,” she gasped, opening her palm to reveal a flower. “Surprise. My lady,”

Agatha snatched the flower, screamed, and tried to attack her, but everyone held her back, Jen and Alice keeping her in check.

“We just summoned her!”

“We need her,”

As Agatha stormed off, Teen followed. You didn’t care about her little temper tantrum. It wasn’t the first you’d seen her have.

You were more concerned about Rio.

She was your Mami, the one who would play pranks on Agatha with you, the one who could calm you down in even the worst meltdowns, the one who accompanied you to the park every time the bullying got bad. Your Mami.

You hugged her tightly. She smelt the same, she felt the same. She was soft, she was the comforting kind of cold. She smelt like earth and old books and cinnamon, a scent so familiar that it made you bury your face into her robe to simply take in her scent.

“Nena,” she laughed. “You got so big,”

“I’m six, mami!” You gave her a broad grin, looking up at her.

“I guess we know now where the psycho comes from,” Jen muttered.

“Hey, what’s up, I’m Rio,” she said, nodding at them, still holding you close.

The three gave her a quiet, somewhat terrified and awkward greeting, before she gave them a cheeky grin and went after Agatha.

“So what do you think, can we trust her?” Alice asked.

“Agatha hates her, I’d say that goes in the ‘pro’ column,” Lilia shrugged.

“I mean…the kid thinks she’s legit,” Alice noted.

“The kid’s as psycho as she is,” Lilia scoffed. “Like calls to like and all that,”

“You’re just salty cause she calls you kooky,” Alice grinned.

“I’m not!”

Meanwhile, you walked with Rio, playing with her fingers gently as you talked her ears off.

The conversation eventually took a serious turn as you both paused and waited for the others.

“Mami,” you said, kicking a stone as you walked with her. “Mami, why did you leave me and go? Did I do something? Did mama? Did Nicky?”

Rio sighed. She knew this question was inevitable. She couldn’t avoid it, she knew that.

She stopped and knelt to your height, holding your arms in a gentle grip, making the others pause in their tracks.

Her voice was so soft, so gentle. “Mira, mi amor,” she said softly. “Sometimes…things happen which can’t be fixed unless one person removes themselves from the equation. It was not yours or Nicky’s fault, alright?”

She sensed your apprehension. An apprehension that broke her heart because she didn’t want to leave. She had to. She had no choice.

“Is it a grown up thing?” You whispered, voice barely audible.

“It is, nena,” she nodded. “But you’re still a little girl, you’re small. You won’t understand even if I explained it simply. I want you, my smart, sweet girl, to know that mami going away was not your fault,”

She thought before adding, “I am sorry for leaving, though. Mi vida, lo siento,”

It made you feel better, indeed. “It’s okay, Mami,” you smiled. “I’m happy you’re with me now,”

She grinned and scooped you up, putting you in her shoulders deftly, making you squeal with happiness. There she was, fun Mami. Your Mami.

“Come on now, let’s make some trouble,” she grinned up at you, winking. “Mami’s not going anywhere anytime soon,”

“What if I get hurt?” You asked quietly.

“Then mami’s always here to protect you,” she grinned, squeezing your hand gently.

You nodded, trusting her words.

The Road was long and it was hard.

But maybe things wouldn’t be too bad.

Mami and Mama protected you. Always.

hi hi my bao buns! i hope you enjoyed it! it was quite long, i must say, haha. do request more and i’m working on the rest currently!

[misctf]

Reversal Agents II: Going Back

Hey! I felt like making a sequel to the The Reversal Agents. Similar concept, similar characters, but instead with an inanimate tf focus. Hope you enjoy and please dm with any story requests!

“Wh-where am I?”

It was so bright. He could make out blurry shadows- people shuffling around him. He could hear voices.

“He’s awake!”

“Sir, can you tell us your name?”

It was all so much. The hard floor on his back. The blinding lights shining in his face. He moved his arm and looked at his hand. His hand? He stared at it, slowly moving his fingers. It felt foreign to him. The sensation was strange and unfamiliar, so he lowered his arm and continued to look around.

“Sir, can you tell us your name?” The voice was more forceful now.

“Tim Hoffer.” He whispered. It was hard to talk. His mouth was dry, “Where... where...” It was getting hard to talk again. And he couldn’t feel his fingers.

“His form isn’t stable!” Someone shouted.

“Stabilizers! Stat!”

Tim could feel someone press something onto his chest and he felt dizzy. The world around him spun and he fell unconscious. From the viewing room, Detective Hart and Detective Philips watched the scene unfold. Hart frowned and turned to the senior detective.

“Stabilizers?” He asked, “Why...”

“Some transformations linger.” Philips interjected, “Especially these inanimate ones for whatever reason. We often use these to prevent reversions.” They watched Tim closely, “Usually the stabilizers come off sooner rather than later. We just follow-up with them closely.”

“Poor kid.” Hart commented.

Philips chuckled, “Could you imagine? Six months as a pair of underwear?”

“Show some sympathy. It’s not funny.” Hart replied, earning him a curious look from his superior.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Philips replied. He took a deep breath, “Come on, we’ll let the professionals handle this. I want to go home and that paperwork won’t finish itself.”

_____________________

It still felt strange. The warmth of his own skin. Moving his arms and legs. Talking. He shuddered. The memories were still somewhat hazy. There was a baseball game. Against their university’s main rival. Big game, huge crowd. His girlfriend cheering him on. He stepped up to bat. Hit the game winning homerun. It was incredible- the memory caused him to smile. But afterwards, it got hazy. He stayed behind to talk to coach- everyone else left. After their talk, he started heading back to his dorm to meet his girlfriend. There was a huge party planned. But he was jumped by Tyler, the rival team’s catcher. He pulled out what looked like a gun... and then...

“Tim?”  

Tim looked away from the window and in the direction of Detective Hart. He sighed. It had been a few weeks since his reversal. And the Department of Affairs Related to Transformation set up several follow-up sessions for him to talk things through. Hart, for his part, enjoyed this part of the job. He could do more to help the victims of forced transformations.

“Sorry, just a bit distracted.” Tim replied.

Hart raised an eyebrow, “I know it’s been a tough few weeks. Getting back into your normal routine...”

“It’s not just that.” He sighed, “I... Sometimes...” He looked away, “It’s nothing.”

Hart looked at him quizzically. But Tim maintained his poker face. How could he tell Hart that he sometimes missed his time as a pair of underwear? Yeah, it was terrifying at first. He hated it. He hated how his face was pressed against his tormentor’s cock. How his body was stretched across his massive muscular ass. The protein farts, the sweat, the days his captor jerked off into him. But as he lost track of the days, it became easier to accept that he was just underwear. No worries, no thoughts, just unwashed and used.

“It’s okay.” Hart replied, “We’ll continue to work through this. And remember, if you ever need me, you can call.”

_____________________

If there was anything Tim continued to enjoy, it was going to the gym. And with college starting again soon and the baseball season, he wanted to stay in shape. Today was leg day and he was trying his best to focus on his squats. As he looked up after finishing a set though, he couldn’t help but stare at the man bench pressing in the corner. Or more specifically, the bulge in his tight gym shorts. The man was around his age and built. His shirt drenched in sweat. When he saw Tim looking at him, he flashed him a smile. Tim blushed and went back to his squats.

‘God damn it.’ He thought, ‘Why does this keep happening?’

Following his transformation, it seemed that he developed a sexual preference for men. A week after his transformation was reversed, he attempted to reconnect with his girlfriend. But when their date night got to the bedroom, it was less than enjoyable for both of them. He couldn’t get hard. Despite years of being together and never having an issue, he just couldn’t. They broke up soon after. But maybe it was a one off thing. He desperately watched the porn vids that always worked for him, and similarly had no such luck. But when he thought about men... particularly, their muscular thighs and their sweaty cocks, he had no issue getting off. Tim jumped when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“I’ll be in the last shower stall.” The man said.

Tim nodded and watched as the hunk walked towards the locker room. He felt his heart pound in his chest. It had been so long since he did anything with anyone. And he resisted his urge to actually do anything with a guy. But... it had been so long. Tim entered the locker room and did just what the guy had told him too. He stripped down to nothing and entered the shower stall, finding the other man there, naked.

“I saw you checking me out.” The guy said with a grin.

But Tim didn’t really hear anything. He was focused more on the man’s erect cock. Tim was soon on his knees, his hands feeling the man’s thighs and ass. All the while, the man was rubbing his cock against Tim’s face.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” The man said, “Come on, you fucking slut.”

A part of Tim felt horrified. He felt dirty and wrong. A few months ago, he would’ve never done something like this. Never. But as he licked along the man’s shaft, tasting the glistening sweat, he shuddered with pleasure. It was so familiar, so right. He slowly swallowed the man’s cock, wrapping his arms around the man’s muscular ass. This felt right. This was right. He bobbed up and down on the man’s cock, causing him to moan. Yeah, just an object. Just to be used. He felt the man’s cock start to throb and he knew what was coming. And as the man came down his throat, Tim was filled with pleasure- it was so familiar. It reminded him of all the days his captor would cum on his fabric face. But that feeling soon dissipated and the weight of what he just did hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Fuck...” The man sighed, “You wanna exchange...”

But Tim had fled. He quickly got back into his clothes and headed towards the locker room exit. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes- this wasn’t right, this was wrong. He wasn’t...

“Tim?” Tim’s eyes widened when he heard a familiar voice. Detective Hart was looking at him, dressed in nothing but a pair of tight underwear, “Hey, are you...?”

But again, Tim didn’t really hear anything he was saying. Instead, he was focused on the bulge in Hart’s underwear. He knew Hart was on the younger side, maybe a few years out of college, but he never saw him nearly naked. His muscles were lean. His ass firm. His underwear... Tim felt jealous of it... And he felt a strange affection for the detective.

“Tim?”

“I-I’ll see you later!” Tim said, fleeing from the locker room.

_____________________

Tim was lying in his bed, his hand wrapped around his cock. Ever since returning from the gym, he couldn’t get the image of Hart out of his head. But even more, he couldn’t help but feel jealous of the underwear tightly wrapped around his cock. Tim cursed and ran a hand through his hair. Why did it have to be like this? Why did he miss being used underwear? He moaned when he thought about the first night Tyler jerked off into him. Tyler had pawed at his cock through Tim’s fabric face. At first he hated it, but night after night, multiple times per day, he anticipated it. Felt excited. It was his purpose.

“Fucking hell.” He whispered. He stared at the stabilizer on his chest and sighed, “No.” He whispered. He grabbed his phone and called Detective Hart. He needed to talk with him, “Hey, can I come talk to you? I know it’s real late, but I really need to... Yes... thank you so much, I’ll be right over.”

When Tim arrived at Hart’s apartment, he was sweating and his heart was pounding. Hart greeted him and the two men were sitting on the sectional in the living room. Hart was looking at him, worry in his eyes.

“So you wanted to talk?” Hart asked.

“I... I’m having a hard time.” Tim whispered, “I sometimes miss it. I miss being underwear.” Tim felt a weight leave him as he admitted his truth, “Ever since the transformation reversed, I just...”

“This isn’t uncommon.” Hart replied, “And I want you to know its normal.” He reassured, “I’ve been learning a lot about inanimate transformations, especially cases similar to yours. It usually takes a bit, but things will start to normalize more as time goes on.”

Tim nodded, feeling comforted by Hart’s words, “I... that does make me feel better.” He whispered. He sighed, “I need to splash some water on my face.”

Tim stared at himself in the bathroom mirror and took a deep breath. Maybe... maybe everything would be okay. He just needed to stay strong. He could go back to his life... maybe rekindle with his girlfriend. Life would be okay.

But then he saw it. Thrown and discarded in the corner of the bathroom was a pair of Hart’s underwear. Tim felt his heart pounding as he bent over and picked it up. The smell was intoxicating. Sweaty, manly musk filled his nostrils. The fabric in his hand was so soft. He shuddered and looked at himself in the mirror. There he was. Tim Hoffer. College baseball jock. Business Administration major. Good grades, attractive, smart. There he was- ravenously rubbing his face in another man’s underwear. He frowned as he removed his shirt and stared at the stabilizer on his chest. And without another thought, he pulled it off.

_____________________

“Hey Tim, are you okay?” Hart knocked on the bathroom door. It had been a little bit of time, and he grew concerned. He looked at his phone and sighed. He quickly messaged the guy he was planning to hook-up with that he needed to cancel, “Tim, can I...”

But the door opened and Tim was standing there, completely undressed. Hart’s eyes widened at the sight and he quickly took a step back. And that’s when he noticed it. There was no stabilizer on his chest.

“Tim...?”

He hadn’t expected Tim to close the distance between them so fast. Nor did he expect the passionate kiss that followed. Hart broke away and looked at Tim, who smiled at him. His hand was resting against Hart’s slowly growing erection.

“Tim, you... I...”

Tim smiled and again kissed Hart passionately. And this time, the detective reciprocated. The two continued to make-out passionately, with Hart leading him back to the bedroom. Tim’s eyes were wild as he stripped away Hart’s clothes, revealing the toned muscle he had seen earlier. His tongue quickly roamed along the detective’s abs and he shuddered at the sound of Hart’s moans. And when Tim finally made his way down to Hart’s stiff cock, he licked along the length of the shaft, savoring every moment. He looked up at Hart, who’s eyes were shut tight from the pleasure, his mouth open in a silent moan. Tim sighed. He didn’t have much time left. He could feel it in his body. And so, he quickly took the length of Hart’s cock into his eager mouth.

‘Here it goes...’ He thought, a sense of relief filling him.

And just like that first night, he could feel it. He felt his arms move on their own, wrapping around the back of Hart’s waist. And when his hands came together, they began to fuse. At the same time, he could feel his pecs and abs start to vanish, the air in his lungs being forced out as his body flattened. But all the while, he kept Hart’s cock in his mouth, doing his best to provide pleasure even as his body changed. He grunted as his legs fused together and lose their features. His skin was taking on a white hue. And slowly, his body started to shrink. As it did, he felt what had been his abdomen and legs curve upwards along Hart’s taint and fuse with his clasped hands.

‘I feel... it feels...’ Tim’s mind was filling with pleasure. With anticipation. He could feel Hart’s firm ass fill the tight fabric of his new body, ‘Just underwear... underwear...’

And slowly, he felt his face start to flatten out against the detective’s throbbing cock. His handsome features vanishing and shifting into white fabric. And a few moments later, Hart was alone in the room. His throbbing erection tenting in his new underwear. And the horny detective couldn’t help but wrap his hand around his throbbing member- pressing Tim’s face firmly against his cock. And after a few strokes, he came, filling his new underwear with his seed.

_____________________

When Detective Hart woke up the next morning, he yawned and rubbed his cock through his underwear. But the events of the previous night quickly returned to him. He looked down at his cum stained underwear- Tim- and felt his heart pounding. How could he do this? He was supposed to reverse transformations, not engage in them. He quickly threw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. It was the weekend, so the office shouldn’t be too busy. He could reverse this again. It would be okay. He ran to the office, working up a musky sweat that seeped into Tim’s new form. He tried to ignore how good the soft fabric of Tim’s new body felt against his semi-hard member.

“Come on... come on...” He whispered as he entered his office. He was desperately looking for the key to the reversal chamber.

“Oh Detective Hart, you look a little stressed today.” Hart looked up to see Detective Philips standing at the door to his office, “Tough night?” He gave the detective a knowing look.

“Look, something happened and...”

Philips smiled, “Don’t worry, I won’t say a thing.” He walked over to Hart, “Inanimate transformations... difficult to come back from.” He chuckled, “Sometimes, it awakens their true purpose. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“What are you saying?”

“You wouldn’t be a reversal agent if you didn’t, well...” He smirked and rubbed his growing bulge, “It’s hard to come by good quality underwear. We’ll leave it at that.”

Hart watched as Philips left his office, the smirk never leaving his face. The younger detective sighed and stared at the key to the reversal chamber in his hand. And with another sigh, he put it away.

[rapturously]

“ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒, 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒. ”

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ paul (the lost boys) x fem!reader.

┆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: an encounter with a familiar face at the boardwalk’s video store leads to a night you’ll never forget.

˹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.0K.

˹ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut (mdni), porn with plot, loss of virginity (reader), vampire antics, hint of bloodplay, paul thinks about killing the reader (briefly), dirty talk, making out, pet names, breast play, hair-pulling kink, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, scent kink, groping, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cowgirl position, finger sucking (brief), catching feelings, cumplay, cliffhanger ending.

˹ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this was a really good way to come back! I am trying to improve my writing and I felt like this was a good warm-up for what’s to come! I hope you guys enjoy! thanks for your support!

SALTWATER KISSES PEPPER AGAINST YOUR CHEEKS WITH THE GENTLE ROLL OF THE TIDE, WHERE THE OCEAN BRUSHES WITH THE SANDY SHORES OF SANTA CARLA. BONFIRES FLICKER THROUGH A STARLIT DUSK, SURROUNDED BY THE SWAYING BODIES OF ROWDY BEACHGOERS.

Smoke stings your nostrils, the pungent haze of marijuana intermingled with scorched driftwood. A seaside breeze drifts across your shoulders, barely covered with a chiffon shawl as you search the growing crowds for your friends.

Santa Carla was unlike anything you’d experienced before, a nocturnal den crawling with so many unfamiliar faces. You had moved here during the peak of summertime, where school wasn’t in-session and each evening was an endless party.

The lukewarm bottle of Redhook swayed within your hand, half-consumed as you tossed it into the nearest bin. Your steps are sluggish as you wander along the beachfront, finding yourself drawn into the fray of a bustling crowd.

It was almost a different place altogether — day versus dusk, where the boardwalk transformed into a haven for the misbegotten. Wedging yourself into the crowd, you catch a glimpse of some local hair-band performing on the stage.

A hand grabs at your hip, causing you to yelp as you swivel, meeting the exuberant eyes of your friend, Chloe. “There you are!” She exclaimed, nose crinkling in amusement. “Jesus, you scare easily!”

With a nettled huff, you turn, noticing the glossy sheen within her gaze — too much to drink. “You grabbed me,” You insisted, barely able to hear her over the rancor of the crowd. “What’s going on?” Your inquiry nearly dissipated into the background.

“Devin wants to check out that stupid video store, do you want to come with? It shouldn’t be long!” Chloe chimed, catching the wandering eye of some sleaze through the crowd. She waved, but you seemed entirely disinterested.

“Yeah, it’s getting too loud over here,” Following her lead, she grasped ahold of your hand, polished nails snagging on your bracelet. There is a noticeable sashay in her steps. “How much have you had to drink?”

“God, you sound like my mother! I’ve had a few, but I’m fine! Devin is taking me home,” She mused, and you happened to roll your eyes. The position of matriarchal friend had involuntarily fallen to you, not that you minded. “Come on!”

Shuffling through the sand, you make your way up a flight of wooden steps, and you are thankful for the distraction. The rancor of rock music dissipates, devolving into the ambiance of fairgoers and stereos, instead.

Before you moved to California, you wouldn’t have dared to set foot in a place like this — but age and assurance bolstered your confidence. You enjoyed going out to these beachside promenades, even if it wasn’t always your scene.

The eclectic nightlife and view of the beach were satisfactory enough for you, with enough entertainment to last a lifetime. Neon lights from overhanging signs buzz with shades of pink and green, blanketing the boardwalk in an array of vibrant colors.

Video Max was a hotspot in Santa Carla — you’d been there more times than you could count since the move. The idle hum of Corey Hart filled the silence, trickling in over the store’s radio as Chloe hauled you inside.

Devin waved from across the shelves, clutching a copy of John Carpenter’s Halloween in his hand. “Thought you guys got lost!” He piped up, offering you a friendly smile. He was a good friend, and you’d been trying to nudge him toward Chloe since you joined the group.

“Almost,” You mused, feeling Chloe release you from her vice-like hold. It allowed you to peruse the shelves, absentmindedly scanning for any movie that happened to snag your attention. “Halloween isn’t for a few months.”

With a snort, Devin waved a hand in dismissal. “Never too early for scary movies,” For a moment, you watched his gaze shift elsewhere, past you and toward the door. “Jesus, have you ever seen anything like that before?”

Perplexed, you couldn’t help yourself, attempting to crane your head to peer over your shoulder. Much to your chagrin, your staring wasn’t entirely subtle, directed toward the group of guys filing into the video store.

Eccentric was certainly a term to describe the four, who moved in an eerie synchronization, like a pack of wolves prowling for prey. At the helm, the platinum-blonde bore a smug smirk, leading his flock into the fray, closely followed by the dark-haired one, whose expression was indiscernible.

The blonde pair reminded you of chortling hyenas, with the shorter one maintaining a curly mullet and a cheshire grin. It was the taller blonde with crazed tresses that ensnared your attention, his hair disheveled, reminding you of a lion’s mane. His overcoat and stressed, white jeans stuck out like a sore thumb.

The Boardwalk Boys — their infamy was something of a legend in Santa Carla, according to Chloe.

Through parted lips, you turned away, knowing you’d ogled for far too long. Instead, you made small talk with Devin and Chloe, tugging your shawl tighter around your shoulders. “Hey, how long are you guys planning on sticking around?”

“Not sure,” Devin rubbed the back of his neck, nearly catching Chloe from swaying into one of the shelves. “Might need to get this one home, as soon as possible.” He sighed, tone indicative of playfulness instead of exasperation.

“No,” Chloe whined, hanging upon Devin’s arm with an exaggerated pout. She glanced at you, eyes alight with bewilderment and intrigue before she leaned over, ushering you closer. “C’mere.” She whispered.

Concerned, you leaned over conspiratorially, palms planted against the top of the shelf. “You are painfully drunk,” You murmured, unable to mask your laughter as she patted your cheek, manicured nails tapping at your skin. “What, what’s wrong?”

“He’s staring at you,” She murmured, and before you could try to turn and look, she held you in-place. “The blonde one with the stupid overcoat, he keeps checking you out.” Chloe snickered, wiggling her eyebrows.

“What?” The bitter sting of disbelief rippled throughout your chest, a crippling denial that often permeated most of your interactions with boys. You found it hard to believe that one of them would have an inkling of interest.

Devin appeared mildly worried, throat bobbing as he dipped closer, brows furrowing together. “Twisted Sister motherfucker,” He uttered, confirming Chloe’s observations with one snarky remark alone. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you.”

Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, a bundle of nerves made residence within your stomach, gooseflesh raking across your spine. Your resolve splintered at the seams, perspiration breaking out upon your palms.

It was almost as if you could feel his gaze boring a hole through you, a heat so foreign and intense that your throat grew tight. In an attempt to relieve a sliver of anxiousness, you picked at your bracelet, gritting your teeth together.

“Should I say something?” There wasn’t anything inherently malicious about the stranger’s oppressive stare, but you could feel it. Chloe shook her head, prepared to encourage you to go and talk to him until the sound of voices grew closer.

Your streak of charisma seemed to wither then and there, shriveling away like dying leaves. Words turned to ash upon your tongue as the blonde happened to approach, lingering a shelf away as to appear inconspicuous.

“He’s cute,” Chloe slurred, a mischievous twinkle within her eye, a subtle hint for you to relax. Devin appeared less than enthused with her astute observation, but let it rest. “Definitely say something.”

“We need to get you home,” Devin murmured, a twinge of suspicion rippling through him. Anyone who frequented Santa Carla knew about the Boardwalk Boys, but one look alone, and something about them was unsettling. “You okay?”

Steeling yourself, you happened to nod, offering Devin a nervous smile. “Peachy.” With a steady exhale, you turned around, greeted by the wolfish grin of the lion’s mane blonde. He looked as if he had been ripped straight from a metal band, with some savage element to him.

Cerulean hues pierced through your own, stale cologne wafting from him. The cropped, mesh top he wore beneath the seemingly-archaic overcoat caught your eye, offering a teasing glimpse of his musculature.

He was unlike anyone you’d seen before, something peculiar — a wild card, whose charisma bled through from his grin alone. “Kept wonderin’ if you were gonna hide from me,” He crooned, head canting to one side. “I’m not mean and scary, promise.”

“Sorry,” Through a mumbled apology, you felt your features warm, as if you’d stepped into an open flame. Something about his very presence seemed to latch its talons into you. “I guess I got a little shy.” You confessed.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” His attention shifted to Devin and Chloe. “You mind if I steal her from you?” There was an unusual sincerity within his tone, laced with amusement. “S’long as it’s good with you, ‘course.”

Unexpected chivalry was the last thing you envisioned from this stranger, but you weren’t about to protest, glancing at Devin and Chloe. “You should probably take Chloe home,” You prompted, chewing at the inside of your cheek. “Tell her to call me tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Devin nodded, partially carrying Chloe against his side. “Be careful, okay?” His pointed statement was primarily directed at your new companion, who playfully crossed his hand over his chest.

“Swear on my life, bro.” His lopsided smirk and chortling was borderline infectious, hues glittering with bemusement as Devin nodded, albeit begrudgingly. You watched as your friends departed Video Max, leaving you to your present company.

Flicking a nail across your bracelet, your attention resumed its full concentration on the man before you, whose wicked style intrigued you. “What’s your name?” Introductions were more awkward than not, but he seemed well-adept at navigating these things.

“Paul, but you can call me anything you want.” His flirtatious nature wasn’t lost upon you, precocious like a playful imp. He stepped closer, leaning against one of the shelves in a casanova manner, eyes beginning to crinkle.

He was endlessly charming, even if you found his pick-up lines to be somewhat outdated. A brief huff of laughter escaped you as you extended your hand, treating him to a sweet smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Paul.”

Your name was freshly emblazoned on his mind, with no intention of fading away. There was something inherently tender about you, a warmth rarely found in this pit of depravity. He liked that, your innocence — it was hard to control himself.

Piety brought out the predator in Paul, whose boisterous personality was something of a magnet to you. Admittedly, he hadn’t seen you before — put a face to a name, let it drive him insane. Your smell was tantalizing, a rich concoction that made him salivate.

Paul stepped closer, weaving around the shelf’s corner as he made residence within your space. Your brief inspection of his attire brought about a multitude of peculiarities, from the tarnished medals clipped to his jacket, to the tattered holes across his white jeans.

“Real nice to meet you, babe,” He crowed, hues shamelessly flickering over your frame. There was a softness to you, unspoiled and supple, akin to some gift that he longed to unwrap. “Wanna ditch this place, head outside?”

The innocuous pet name was merely an extension of his flirtation, something you reveled in. Molten heat swirled within the pit of your stomach, like a flock of butterflies, making you preen with excitement. “Yeah, why not?”

Lodging a toothpick between his teeth, Paul threw an arm around you, palm gently pressing against the small of your back as he guided you outside. The friends he’d come in with glowered as he passed, causing you to subconsciously move into Paul’s side.

As dusk furthered into the later hours, the hour of the bat, the crowds had started to thin. A cluster of scrappy motorcycles sat several feet away, along the wooden bannister. “Don’t mind my brothers, they’re just jealous.”

Brothers? The thought is perplexing — there isn’t much of a resemblance between the four of them, but you settle on the logical path of adoption.

“Jealous?” Incredulity ripples through your tone, as saccharine as sugar. Paul snickers, amused by your own obliviousness — it’s sweet, your humility, but he doesn’t seem surprised. “Why?”

“Why d’you think?” Paul steered you toward the bannister, making himself comfortable at your side. A feeble heat wafted from you, accompanied by the thick haze of your scent. It stung his nostrils, producing a dull burn within his throat.

“Oh,” He got the girl, you think, folding your arms to let them perch atop the railing. “I’ve heard about you guys — the Boardwalk Boys. I didn’t know I’d be speaking to a celebrity tonight.” You teased, tone jocular.

Through a guffaw and a wild grin, Paul nearly bumped his hip into you, twisting the toothpick between his teeth. “We got a bad reputation for bein’ troublesome,” He mused. “Hope you’re not thrown off by that.”

“I’m not,” You insisted, despite your initial hesitation. Casting judgment on someone you knew little about wasn’t fair — and Paul was the most intriguing person you’d spoken to thus far. “Where do you and your brothers live?”

“Don’t have a house,” Paul seemed nonchalant about this fact, placing a boot up upon one of the lower rungs. “We jus’ live in a cave on Hudson’s Bluff — party and slum it.” He noticed the look of astonishment on your face. “Totally legal, by the way.”

Through a furrowed brow and warm features, you canted your head to one side. “You live in a cave? Doesn’t that get —”

“Dangerous?” Paul interjected, grinning like the cat who’d caught the canary. He slithered closer, throwing an arm around your shoulders, ring-adorned fingers tracing over your arm. “Nothing about me is tame, baby.”

Biting back a hiccup, you felt yourself becoming unabashedly smitten, chewing at the inside of your cheek. There was nothing civilized and demure about Paul, who was as wild and unpredictable as they came. The juxtaposition to your pious demeanor clashed with his — in a good way.

Paul thoroughly enjoyed living on the edge, an amalgamation of all things untamed and dangerous. Recklessness was fun for him, like the thrill of the hunt. Sometimes, he let the human facade slip enough to rouse suspicion — David didn’t like that.

His touch was akin to a stab of ice, even through your chiffon shawl. A brief gasp rippled through you at the foreign sensation, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Swallowing your nervousness, you happened to stay put, gaze drifting to meet cerulean irises.

“I’m not afraid, if that’s what you’re worried about,” In a valiant attempt to show a sliver of boldness, you found yourself wanting to impress Paul. “I think I can handle it.” Your insistence was cute to Paul, whose nose wrinkled instead.

“I like that fire you got, but you’re shakin’ like a leaf,” Paul teased, reveling in the flustered look plastered onto your visage. Before you could avert your eyes, he reached to tilt your chin toward him, as playful as could be. “You’re real pretty.”

Jesus, he was smooth — a crazed charm that was akin to a siren’s song, dragging you into the depths of his ocean. Compliments accompanied by his suaveness and fleeting touches made your nerves blaze with exhilaration.

Having melted the barrier of strangeness between you both, Paul hovered above you, leaning inward to sniff at your tresses. It was an amalgamation of all things sweet — from something floral to a hint of honey and vanilla.

“You’re …” Ensnared within his incendiary gaze, you found yourself unable to find the words, as if they ceased to exist. A beat of silence gripped you as you considered what to say. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

Most girls he sunk his teeth into weren’t so mesmerized — and if they were, they were often beneath his hypnotic spell. Your awe and bewilderment appeared to be genuine.

Paul laughed, the sound vibrating through him, ripping clean through his throat. He thoroughly enjoyed how smitten you were with him, and the innocuous attention was something he chased after. “You think so?”

Flicking the toothpick aside, Paul noticed the coy smile tugging at either corner of your mouth. It was easy to dip into the recesses of your mind, dig into each crevice for answers, but he chose not to. The unpredictability of it all enticed him.

“Yeah, you just … You’re very fearless, and bold. You don’t care what anybody else thinks of you.” If only you were confident enough to take a page out of his book, you might’ve been the same way. “It’s very attractive.” Your confession emerged as a soft-spoken utterance.

Unable to suppress his growing smirk, Paul’s lips neared the shell of your ear. “You hitting on me?” He purred, able to catch a whiff of your pheromones. It was a wave of something feminine, making his blood boil with anticipation.

The boardwalk became incredibly dismal, mere ambiance serving as a backdrop for your conversation with Paul. You cared little for curfew, little for going home. “I am,” With a steady exhale, you straightened your posture. “Is that okay?”

“Fuck, ‘course it’s okay,” Paul mumbled, lips brushing across the shell of your ear, causing gooseflesh to ice your spine. A clammy chill spread along the back of your neck, breath hitching within your throat. “Prettiest girl here.”

Whispered praise raked hot embers along your spine, causing your stomach to roll with waves of excitement. You were terrified to touch him, lips agape as he tilted your chin, forcing you to hold his stare.

“You’re sweet,” You murmured, tone wrought with disbelief as you mustered a smile, dazzled by Paul’s beguiling visage. His closeness was marked by the unusual chill of his flesh, the brush of his mesh-clad chest against yours. “Paul.”

“Should ditch this place, baby,” Paul’s breath fanned across your mouth, his scent a strange conglomerate of marijuana, sun-dried carrion, and stale cologne to mask it all. “Come and check out the cave.”

A sliver of your being sensed danger, as if your hackles bristled at the thought of going somewhere completely secluded with him. It was easy to dismiss your twinge of paranoia as nervousness, and you did just that.

“I’ll go with you.” With a brief exhale, you nodded in agreement, earning the delight of Paul, who seemed incredibly pleased. His bark of a laugh reverberated throughout his chest as he planted a sloppy kiss against your cheek.

“C’mon, I’ll give you a lift,” His outstretched hand invited you toward his scrappy motorcycle, which seemed similar to a dirt-bike instead of a true Harley or Indian. “I’m a safe driver.”

Despite his faux assurances and oozing charm, some sliver of you felt uneasy. It would just be the both of you, which seemed infinitely more comfortable than having his brothers around.

Paul’s grin never diminished, glinting through the encroaching dark as he settled onto the bike, ensuring that you were situated behind him. “I don’t know if I believe you.” You mused, relieving some of the tension.

His laugh made you smile, like the cackle of a coyote — nothing tame about him. Despite his carefree nature, you enjoyed his company, savored the sense of liberation you felt with him. There wasn’t a need to perform, only exist as you were.

“Believe it, baby, we’re goin’ for a ride,” He mused, revving his bike with a noisy howl. Before he could spin off of the boardwalk, you immediately lurched forward, arms hooking around his midsection. “Might wanna hold on tight.”

Seaborne wind whipped against your cheeks, the night chill seeping into your bones. The silver glow of the moon sparkled across the ocean, framing Paul’s tresses in an eerie light. He was frenzied, screaming into the twilight as he drove across the beach.

A shudder of ecstasy raked across your spine, exhilaration fueled by a stab of fear. You clung to him like a drowning woman, digits tangled into the mesh, feeling the icy plane of his abdomen beneath.

A sharp inhale fluttered within your lungs when Paul’s bike hopped over a log, causing you to tense with anticipation. There was something maddening about his driving — recklessness, excitement, the thrill of the night.

The boardwalk faded into the background, mere sparkling lights in the distance, now dissipated. Hudson’s Bluff was a sprawling forest before one made it to the cliffside, barren with dirt and a sparse tree. The rocky incline that led to the mouth of the cave was steep and jagged.

“Home sweet home,” Paul crowed, guiding his bike toward the mess of boards, caution tape, and flotsam. Driftwood had washed up onto shore, with tattered tarps partially strewn across the cave’s entrance. “Didn’t scare you, did I?”

As he dismounted, he noticed the startled look upon your face, akin to a baby deer lost in the thicket. It seemed to fade once your feet landed upon slick rocks, waves kissing the sediment-laden shores. “Only a little.” You confessed.

Paul snickered, offering you a ring-adorned hand as he wound closer to you, planting a sly kiss along the back of your ear. “Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to,” He murmured, able to detect the spike of warmth in your blood, the hitch of your breath. “You’ll love it down here.”

The cavernous abyss of the cave’s mouth made you shiver, your grip on Paul’s hand becoming uncomfortably snug as he led you down. It was all uneven and perilous, the cave marked by overhanging foliage, moss, and rocky outcroppings.

Within the underbelly of their home, it became somewhat cozy, strewn in countless trappings of the present time, intermingled with that of the past. There were many huge posters of various bands, a portion of the cave carved off for their bikes and workshopping scrap.

“Did something fall underground here?” You asked, noticing the dilapidated fountain in the center of the cave, where slivers of moonlight crept through. Sweeping a digit over the old stone, you collected a century’s worth of dust.

“Used to be an old hotel back in the day, before it collapsed. Some sinkhole or somethin’, David knows the whole story,” Paul replied, tossing a torch into one of the barrels. “I didn’t listen to much of it.” He chortled, gaze fixated upon you.

Worn tapestries hung from the scaling ceilings, crimson velvet tarnished by the passage of time. Much of the decor was an amalgamation from the past and the present, worlds colliding in the depths of the cave.

“It doesn’t bother you, living here?” Perhaps your question might’ve passed as judgmental, but you were simply curious. Paul hopped up onto the ledge of the fountain, able to look down upon you.

“Nah. You get used to it,” Sauntering along the edge, he jerked his head toward another alcove of the cave. “Wanna see my place? Best part of the cave.” He mused, jumping down to land right in front of you.

You began to relax, allowing yourself to lower your guard with Paul. Vulnerability began to waft from you, a semblance of comfort that you couldn’t quite place. “Yeah, I’d love to.” Warmth crept along your spine when he took your hand again.

The cave was much bigger than you thought, with sprawling passageways, alcoves, and concealed grottos that didn’t make themselves known. Paul’s ‘room’ was nothing more than a dip in the rock, shrouded by gaudy velvet curtains.

It smelled of marijuana and a hint of cologne, accompanied by mildew and moisture. Disheveled sheets were strewn across a mattress, metal posters covering most of the rock. Mötley Crüe, Cinderella, Warrant, Scorpions, Judas Priest — Paul had an excellent taste in music.

“You’re really into music, aren’t you?” A brief bubble of laughter emerged from your lips as you gestured toward the posters. His stereo and cassette tapes sat atop a rickety vanity, mirror smashed and missing half of the glass.

“Yeah. I play guitar,” Paul was merely a novice, but he wasn’t the worst player in the world. “Metal not your speed?” He mused, gauging your response. Marko labeled him as a music snob, not that he could help it.

“No, I enjoy it. My parents are pretty strict on it, though,” You mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Most of his belongings were scattered — strewn about the room or stacked into disorganized piles. “I like it here.”

Upon first glance, Paul saw you as a meal, a plaything, a means to an end. He intended on feeding from you, given how saccharine your scent happened to be. Blood was blood, but it did have a certain bouquet and viscosity, varying from person to person.

Now, he was beginning to have a change of heart.

Humans were disposable, nothing — piles of warm meat with a bloodstream, something to consume and discard once he had his fill. It was a callous way to think of it, but he wasn’t concerned with the livelihood of a stranger.

Despite the supernatural appeal he had, especially towards you, whatever unconscious effect you possessed was beginning to impact him. Paul lacked the desire to feast, to kill. Instead, it was simply that — the desire to be with you.

For a moment, he considered turning you himself — being like him, an eternal statue bound to his side. Then again, Paul obtained some sick thrill from toying with your humanity, seeing how far he could push his limits.

The fiery burning within his throat became nothing more than background noise, replaced with baser, carnal instincts. Paul’s jaw tensed, and he watched in rapturous silence as you picked up a Def Leppard cassette.

“Wanna listen?” Paul asked, noticing the flicker of excitement within your eyes. Coming from a religious background, rock music was demonized in your household — this was a much-needed break for you.

“If you don’t mind.” Beaming, you couldn’t help but warm as Paul plucked the tape from your hands, hovering beside you as he placed it into the stereo. Love Bites wasn’t exactly a clean song, and Paul snickered at the coincidental lyrics.

With a theatrical groan, he rocked back onto his mattress, listening to the squeak of the springs protest his weight. Paul let himself bask in the moment, tossing his overcoat somewhere toward the alcove’s entrance.

A pang of attraction rippled through you at the sight of him, spread wide with his arms planted behind him, mane of hair making him look like a rockstar. You stood with the shrewdness of a mouse, picking at the frayed stitching of your shawl.

Paul loved your innocence — it made you wildly gorgeous in ways that made his skin crawl. Cerulean hues shamelessly flickered across your form, lips quirked into a lopsided smirk.

“When are you gonna stop bein’ shy and come sit on my lap?” The sharp question was enough to make your knees wobble, heat beginning to pool within the pit of your stomach. Your doe-eyed stare flew to Paul, who seemed entirely unbothered.

Gawking as if he’d asked something offensive, you let your bewilderment show. “What?” It felt like some raunchy dream you’ve had before, but this was reality.

“You heard me,” Paul crooned, extending one hand in your direction. “C’mere.” Fuck, he could smell you — the familiar scent of feminine arousal struck his senses like a gut-punch, causing him to salivate. It was going to be a fight to control himself.

Nervousness dissipated into excitement as you abandoned your lingering insecurities, shuffling forward until you were in between his legs. Your hand found his own, calloused digits smoothing themselves across your palm, reveling in your softness.

Paul brought your palm to his lips, pressing a kiss against the silky skin there. The sharp cadence of your breath made him grin, a chuckle reverberating throughout his body.

“You are so pretty,” You sighed, unable to smother your compliment. There was no one quite as captivating as Paul, whose untamed appearance only appealed to your attraction. “So attractive.”

Amused, Paul appeared flattered by your sweet praise, and it turned him on to the point of no return. Jesus, he wanted you — wanted you for himself. Possessiveness wasn’t something he was familiar with, yet it began to fester inside of him nonetheless.

Coaxing you into his lap, you swallowed the growing lump within your throat, thighs squeezing at either side of his hips. You straddled him, feeling those ring-adorned hands clamor for your waist, caressing into your curves.

“Lookin’ good enough to eat, sweet thing,” Paul crowed, pinching the chiffon shawl between his fingers. “You want to fool around?” Blunt, straightforward — his intentions seemed crystalline.

Another hitch formed within the depths of your throat, gooseflesh prickling along your spine. “Yes,” With an excitable sigh, you attempted to seem subdued, but this was the first time you’d done something like this. “Please.”

Paul’s palms cupped your hips, groping at the pliant flesh through your dress as he moved to kiss you. Carnality bled through his lips, tasting of smoke and the twang of copper. A low groan stirred within his chest as you grasped at his hair.

Dusty-blonde tresses seemed stiff between your fingertips, layered in age-old product that hadn’t been washed out. You found yourself not questioning the strangeness of it, lost within the fervor of his mouth.

Def Leppard saturated the space around you, ambiance beginning to soothe whatever anxiousness you’d felt before. Paul was a fantastic kisser, tongue swiping across your lower lip on occasion, head canted to deepen the entanglement.

Prying your shawl aside, you let the chiffon garment taper off to the floor, a shiver rolling down your spine. Exposed to the cave’s mild air, your mouth eagerly clamored against his own, feeling one of his hands slither toward your backside.

You felt as if you’d been set ablaze, flesh burning with a carnal intensity, something you hadn’t experienced before. An amalgamation of new sensations began to overwhelm you, the thrill of desire settling into your bones.

Paul brazenly groped at your rump, feeling you up through your skirt with greedy caresses. Each kiss was voracious, stealing every wisp of air from your lungs until there was nothing left but a burning, a longing unlike anything you’d endured before.

“Wait,” Through a breathy sigh, Paul’s lips came to a crawl, piercing hues gauging you through blonde lashes. “I’ve never gone much further than this. Is that okay?” Your inquiry was a softspoken one, laced with innocence.

Fantasy ran rampant as Paul considered your confession, tongue darting to lap across his lower lip. Armed with this knowledge, he knew that he really needed to behave, or else he’d break you.

“Fuck yeah,” He huffed, tracing his palm along the pliant flesh of your thigh. “If you don’t wanna do something, you tell me, yeah? I got some ideas,” Paul crooned, pressing a string of kisses along your jaw. “Think you’ll like it.”

A tremor of ardor rippled through your stomach, evoking a sense of exhilaration. Curious digits found their way to his bare shoulders, exploring the broad muscle there as he kissed his way across your throat.

“Like what?” A sharp exhale tore past your parted lips as teeth nicked your jugular, testing the waters for what was to come. Paul’s smirk was palpable, like an icy brand etched into your flesh.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He purred, toying with your intrigue, enough to make you squirm within his lap. You very nearly froze at the incessant prodding of his erection against your thigh. “Fuck, you smell so good, baby.”

Whatever perfume you happened to spritz on today, you made a mental note to wear it again. Gooseflesh crawled across your spine, thighs involuntarily attempting to clench together as his palm drifted underneath your top.

With a silent insistence, Paul helped you squirm out of your blouse, catching an eyeful of your lace-laden chest. His lips twitched into a wolfish smirk, eyes gleaming with a fervent hunger.

You nearly shrank beneath his piercing gaze, finding that your blouse had made its way to the floor, lost to the moment. The lace of your brassiere was girlish and frilly, though you suspected it wouldn’t stay on for very long.

Paul pressed a string of needy kisses along your shoulder, ring-adorned hand skirting to knead at your breast. A soft moan tore past your mouth, a sound that he had been itching to elicit from you. He teased your nipple over the fabric, watching you squirm within his lap.

“Paul!” A low whine escaped you, one that reeked of neediness, a burning desire that had coalesced into a flame. His mouth found the dip between your neck and shoulder, sucking a hickey into the sensitive skin there.

“Like it when you say my name,” He purred, nose nuzzling along your throat. The sanguine pulse of your blood was tantalizing, like a savory treat being dangled before him, but he resisted. “Gonna take this off of you.” One digit plucked at the strap of your brassiere.

“Mm.” With a noise of approval, you felt Paul move to unhook the garment with swift expertise. The humid breeze that drifted through the cave caused you to bristle, letting him leave you bare. His pupils seemed to expand with excitement.

Fuck, you were gorgeous — Paul was having a difficult time focusing on what part of you he enjoyed the most. “You are so fuckin’ hot,” He growled, causing your breath to hitch within your throat. “What am I gonna do with you, babe?”

A shiver of exhilaration iced your spine, arousal pooling between your thighs, heavier than you expected. Molten heat swirled within your stomach, warmth permeating your features. “Whatever you want.” You uttered, and he happened to grin.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Paul crooned, dexterous hands wandering toward your ass, pushing you forward until his face brushed against your sternum. His tongue traced a pattern around your breasts, savoring the sweet slick of your flesh.

Swallowing the lump within your throat, your fingers raked themselves through his wild tresses, finding their purchase as he kissed at your chest. A satisfied whine left you, followed by a gasp as he began to suck at your nipple.

Tits were his thing — it elicited some frenzied reaction from him, the softness of your chest; supple and unspoiled. Paul’s digits found your unattended breast, kneading into the flesh there, causing you to moan.

The rough pad of his thumb rolled across your nipple, evoking a squeak from you. His cheshire smirk was tangible against your skin, like a hot brand, etched for eternity.

His greedy suckling dwindled to kisses, planting a string of wet pecks to your chest. “You are somethin’ else,” Paul hummed, a glimmer of lust shimmering within his eyes. “Lay down for me, yeah?” He murmured, planting a kiss against your jugular.

The erratic beating of your heart was born of excitement, a thrill unlike any other. His allure had captivated you, and before Paul’s change of heart, it was the predator ensnaring prey. It was the supernatural attraction of being a vampire.

Without question, you adhered to his request, the obedient human, awkwardly shuffling to recline across the mattress. It groaned in protest, yet you paid it little mind as Paul crawled toward you.

It was animalistic, something that sent a shudder of fear through your stomach, a good fear. Cerulean hues glistened with unrestrained desire, lips splitting into a smirk as he made residence between your legs.

Hands grasped mesh as he tugged his top away, musculature exposed to you, godly in some inhuman way. Arousal sat heavy between your thighs, beginning to drive Paul to madness. He found your skirt, head canting to one side.

“You mind if I get rid of this? Just gettin’ in the way of what I want,” The amorous cadence of his voice made you press your legs together in an attempt to relieve the tension. “Gettin’ shy on me, babe?” Paul teased, prompting you to smile.

“You can take it off.” With a shrewd utterance, you watched as Paul sluggishly tugged at your skirt. The frilly garment disappeared, tossed somewhere behind him. Thin, cotton panties were all that kept you from exposure.

Slinking forward, Paul’s body blanketed yours, arms keeping himself propped up as he gazed down at you, lips quirked into a grin. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?” His mouth found your collarbone, leaving behind a string of hot, wet kisses.

A shaky sigh escaped your lips, laced with the tremor of anticipation as you reached for his tresses. Soft fingers raked through his stiff mane, eliciting a low, satisfied hum from him.

He kissed you wherever he pleased, finding plenty of enjoyment in your body. Your flesh was like silk, akin to velvet, an unblemished surface, all for his own pleasure. Paul kissed his way between your breasts, briefly nipping at your sternum.

The heady, dizzying scent of your arousal continued to scorch his nostrils, a burn of sheer ecstasy. Bloodlust had dwindled into lust — the want he felt for you far outweighed the desire to feed. A soft moan left you when he reached your stomach, hands finding your thighs.

“P—Paul, where …” Embarrassment flooded through you, warming your already-feverish flesh with bashfulness. A guffaw left your greedy paramour, who did not stop his trail of reverent kisses. “You don’t have to.” You squeaked.

Cute — Paul’s mouth twisted into a wolfish grin, cerulean hues reflecting the yearning of a man starved. “I want to,” His enthusiasm bewildered you, and the throbbing between your legs seemed incessant, now. “Fuck, I want it so bad, babe.”

A shiver rolled along your spine, digits idly tensing within his hair as he kissed a trail along your pelvic bone, teeth snagging into the waistband of your panties. An audible gasp ripped through your throat, eyes widening into a doe-eyed stare.

Paul’s hues met yours, lips still quirked into a smirk even as he guided your panties down your legs. He had them clenched between his teeth like a vice, sluggishly dragging them down until they were hitched around your knees.

Your stomach did flips, a whine bubbling from your throat as he pressed kisses along your calf. No man had ever bothered to do something as sultry as this — and you became lost to his lascivious charm.

Involuntarily, you pressed your thighs together, visibly smitten as Paul clicked his tongue. “Wanna taste you so bad,” He groaned, chin perched against your knee. “You gonna make me beg or somethin’?” A bark of laughter reverberated through his chest.

“No, I just — It’s embarrassing,” It was silly, so silly to be flustered over your own anatomy. Paul appeared amused, but he seemed more than happy to placate you, trailing his fingers along your thigh. “What if you don’t like it?”

“I’ve eaten worse, sweet thing,” Paul chortled, like the snickering of a hyena as he kissed your knee, head cocked to one side. “Your pussy is ‘bout to be the best thing I’ve had in months, and that’s bein’ serious.” He assured.

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, and his crass humor seemed to melt away your apprehension entirely. “I don’t want to starve you.” Your own jest made him grin — a full, ear-splitting leer that brought back his wild gleam.

Slowly, you parted your legs, and Paul whistled triumphantly, gluing himself to you with an inhuman haste. His mouth pressed open, wet kisses to your inner thighs, greed consuming him as he chased after that smell.

Your scent had been tormenting him since the moment he strolled into Video Max, and now, he was inhaling it all with glee. “Fuck, you’re soakin’ wet,” Paul groaned, causing your breath to hitch as you reclined into the mattress. “Pretty.”

Without pause, his tongue dragged across your cunt, akin to the burn of hot embers over your slit, an ecstasy that made you writhe. A growl ripped through his chest, one that made you shudder as he lapped at your core.

His tresses became your anchor, something to tether you to him as you tugged, pulled, and fisted at his mane. Paul seemed to enjoy it, nose nuzzling along your mound as he vigorously explored your cunt.

Taut, sinewy hands circled beneath your thighs, coming to perch atop your hips, caging you in against his mouth. He was primal — sloppy and enthusiastic, with little tact to his ministrations. His tongue traveled anywhere and everywhere.

The taste of your cunt drives Paul into a frenzy, like that of a fine stout, ambrosial — he’s intoxicated, hit with a buzz that clouds his mind. Your thighs coil around his head, involuntarily flexing against his temples.

There is a euphoria that swells within you, a fire that demands to be extinguished. Paul’s tongue possesses a mind of its own, eagerly lapping from your entrance to clit. At the first lap along the pearl of your cunt, you cry out.

Unbeknownst to you, Paul could’ve stayed between your thighs for an eternity, with little desire to catch his breath. Control became difficult to grasp, with the feral urge to ruin you taking root, the fantasy spreading like a creeping mold.

Between dizzying, wanton moans and excitable gasps, clawing for each wisp of air, you tug at his tresses with an iron grasp. His lips plant hot, open-mouthed kisses along your cunt, tongue gathering your slick.

Greed was his cardinal sin, a gluttony for you, for every fiber of your being. Cerulean hues flickered toward you, head thrown back, caught within the throes of ecstasy. It only furthered his lust, furthered the festering obsession.

The incessant throbbing of his cock was becoming mildly distracting, enough for Paul to absentmindedly grind his hips into the mattress. The friction made his flesh burn with excitement, lips moving to purse around your clit.

“Taste so fuckin’ good.” Paul’s sultry husk momentarily broke your concentration, heart fluttering beneath your breast as you glanced down. It was as if he ensnared you through eyes alone, ensuring that you watched as he sucked at that bundle of nerves.

With a noisy, pleading moan, your back began to arch from the mattress, springs hissing in protest as you tugged at the base of his skull. You brought him into your cunt, not that he minded, and you were treated to a barrage of messy licks.

A sheen of arousal coats his chin, senses swarmed with your scent; a thick, feminine aroma. Pupils dilate with thinly-veiled excitement as one hand relocates, slithering from your hip to the warmth between your legs.

Time isn’t wasted with Paul as two digits begin to stroke along your entrance, mouth preoccupied with suckling on your clit. With a muted thrust of your hips, you can feel the huff of laughter from your crazed paramour, who pins your hips down with his other palm.

A demanding fire burns bright within the pit of your stomach, arousal coalescing between your thighs, a nectar that Paul consumes every drop of. Your flesh feels unbearably hot, like a fever you can’t sweat out as you approach your peak.

Throaty groans tear through Paul’s throat as he hungrily eats you out, drunk off of your taste. Two fingers ease themselves inside of you, initially sluggish until it turns into something erratic, feeling you clench around his digits.

“Paul,” It almost stole the wind from your lungs; the graze of teeth around your clit, causing you to shudder. With an incoherent string of moans, you continue to babble his name as if it were a prayer. “P—Paul, m’close!” You croon.

White-hot bliss floods your insides, and it only continues to spur Paul on as he pistons his fingers into your cunt. The sensation makes you writhe, an ecstasy unlike any other. He doesn’t slow down, alternating between broad laps of his tongue and sucking at your pearl.

Enraptured, Paul observed you like that of a patient predator, grinding himself into the mattress again. His fingers work against you, thrusting in once more before curling — and that seems to set you over the edge.

With a wave of overwhelming pleasure, you feel your climax hit you hard, like a rush of blood to the head. Uncoiling your thighs from around Paul’s head, you feel sticky, leaving behind the mess of your ardor for him to clean up.

A thin layer of perspiration clung to your skin, glistening through the low light of the cave. A burning sensation stung your lungs as you let yourself breathe, regaining your composure.

Paul lapped at his lips, emerging from between your legs with a cheshire grin. “You’re hot,” He sighed, peppering a string of kisses all along your thigh. “Need a break?” With a cajoling tone, he slithered closer, resting his head against your stomach.

Blonde tresses stuck out in all directions, wild and disheveled from your constant pulling. You pushed your fingertips across his scalp, and he happened to curl up closer to you. “That was perfect.”

“I’m good at pleasin’.” Paul snickered, pecking another myriad of kisses along your abdomen. He moved off of you, settling beside you on the mattress, stuffing a pillow beneath his head. The front of his jeans did little to conceal his erection.

In a simmering silence, you wordlessly moved to clamor into Paul’s lap, palms embracing the plane of his chest. You traced your fingers through the blonde hair there, noticing the way in which his visage illuminated with excitement.

Silky digits traced the line of his stubbled jaw, past his collarbone and toward the coarse line of his happy trail. “You’re so pretty.” A soft mumble escaped your lips as you touched him wherever you could, feeling his hands knead into your hips.

“Fuck,” Paul grumbled, becoming impatient as he writhed beneath you, erection grinding into your core with fervent intent. “Don’t make me wait, baby.” He sighed, giddy as could be when your fingers found his belt.

A pang of elation rippled through you, ardor seeping into your bones as you sluggishly rocked your hips against him. An agonized grunt rumbled throughout his chest, hands squeezing you tight as you unbuttoned his jeans.

Freeing his cock from the confines of strained, white fabric, Paul bristled, nearly steering you onto him out of sheer desperation. Your fingers coyly wrapped around his member, stroking from base to tip, flush within your palm.

Another hiss of impatience slipped through his teeth, festering with want as you pleasured him. He was flattered that you bothered to return the favor, but Paul was hyperfocused on fucking you until you sobbed.

“Minx,” He mused, catching your mesmerized stare as he flashed a wolfish grin in your direction. You ceased with your toying, sheepishly guiding him toward your aching cunt. “C’mon, just like that.” Paul coaxed, teeth scraping across his lower lip.

It was increasingly difficult to maintain any pious facade with him talking to you like that — resonance little more than a sultry purr, spurring you on. Sluggishly, you lowered yourself onto his cock, the intrusion causing you to moan.

Intermingled sighs of ecstasy drifted throughout the alcove, with Paul gripping your hips like a vice, hard enough to leave bruises. Your nails dug into his abdomen, eliciting a chortle from him as he bucked up into you.

His control was splintering at the seams, feeling your cunt clench around him as he bottomed out inside of you. Your visage contorted into a look of sheer bliss, lips agape and eyes half-lidded as you began to grind against him.

From beneath you, the view was divine — Paul’s hues carefully traced the pliant curves of your breasts, the way your body moved atop him with ease. Your jugular appeared inviting, and for a moment, he was reminded of the burn ripping at his throat.

As you began to move, allowing your pace to become spirited, his thoughts were torn from fractures of feeding to that of pleasure. He was strong enough to move you all on his own, taut digits skirting to your haunches.

“Paul,” You moaned, nails leaving crimson crescents against his chest. His hips happened to clash with yours, cock pounding into your cunt with the lewd clash of flesh. “S—Shit!” A stammered whine escaped you.

Def Leppard filled the void, resonant between the intermingled grunts of Paul and your wanton moans. Deft, needy hands caressed you wherever he could, one palm gripping at your haunch as the other wandered to squeeze your breast.

Pools of dull candlelight bathed you in its glow, ethereal in appearance — he was mesmerized. It wasn’t something that occurred often, being charmed by a human, and yet it happened anyway.

Paul continued to thrust into you, cock nearly kissing your cervix with vigor. Even through his erratic pace, you guided yourself in rhythmic motions along his cock, reduced to a mess of pathetic whimpers and eager cries.

A cacophony of crass noises emanated throughout the walls of his chambers — breathy sighs intermingled with wanton moans, the exchange of flesh for fantasy.

“Fuck, baby,” Paul groaned, the husk of his cadence causing you to shiver in delight. Molten heat churned within the pit of your stomach, arousal pooling between your thighs. “Feels so good.” He huffed.

As if acting upon selfish impulse, you reached for the choker around his neck, hooking two digits into the black fabric as you tugged him up. Pupils dilated with sudden exhilaration, cerulean hues boring into you, as incendiary as an open flame.

Lips clashed together, greedy and hungry — an unfamiliar hunger, one that seemed to sink its talons into you, refusing to let go. You kissed him as if each entanglement would be your last, feeling his teeth scrape across your lower lip.

Paul didn’t seem to mind doing most of the work, feeling your thighs twitch and tremble from exertion. His chest brushed against yours, evoking an animalistic growl from the depths of his throat.

The pace seemed to increase, turning to a wild fervor that filled you with excitement. Your cunt clenched around his cock, bodies sticky with perspiration and fluids, the clash of flesh becoming prominent.

That familiar coil of tenuous heat festered within the pit of your stomach, signaling the encroachment of your release. Without warning, Paul happened to bite down too hard on your lip, and if it weren’t for his restraint, he might’ve taken it further.

“Paul,” Between wanton sighs and needy moans, you grasped at his tresses again, hips grinding against his own. A delicious friction boiled between the both of you, flesh to flesh, driven by desire. “Don’t stop, please.”

One hand skirted to cup his stubbled jaw, able to glimpse a sliver of the untamed side to Paul, the side that captivated you so. He was relentless, stamina borderline inhuman as he continued to guide you atop his lap.

A coppery scent filled his nostrils as a bead of crimson formed upon your lip. Paul bent forward, still fucking you as if it would be his last rut, tongue darting out to lap across your lips.

Saccharine warmth filled his maw for the briefest of moments — your blood, like a fruity bouquet, rich and virile. He hadn’t tasted something so sweet before, and it only made him want more. He kissed you again, with enough passion to make your head spin.

With another lewd clash of his cock slapping away at your cunt, you nearly reeled, moan swallowed by his voracious tongue. It was a messy kiss, fueled by his desire to lap at any drop of blood that oozed from your mouth.

Through a tangle of teeth, tongue, and want, Paul came, bucking up into you as his cock spilled inside of you. An exhale of ecstasy escaped you, mouths parting just enough for you to caress his lower lip with your thumb.

A wicked gleam glistened within his heated stare as he took your thumb into his mouth, pearlescent teeth teasing the fragile skin. A shudder wracked your body, enough to reignite the smoldering desire that now gripped your body.

“Stop that,” You mumbled, albeit playfully as you sluggishly untethered yourself from his lap, thighs scorched by his jeans and the constant friction. It must’ve been late, you realized. “That was …”

“Best you’ve ever had?” Paul teased, a howl of laughter rippling through him. He seemed more than satisfied, something that made you feel better about the whole ordeal. “You’re not gonna run off on me, are you?” He asked.

Curfew was dead and gone — you would face the repercussions come morning. Instead, you happened to try and find your panties, only to notice Paul twirling them around on his hand.

“I’m not going anywhere,” With a huff, you immediately slithered back onto his lap, grabbing them with a flustered smile. Paul had you trapped, caging you in against his chest with a vice-like hold. “Paul.”

“Can’t hear you, sweet thing,” His eyes momentarily fluttered shut, lips curled into a wolfish grin as he squeezed at your rump. You were trying to put your panties back on even still, nose wrinkling with amusement. “Need somethin’ to wear?”

Despite your shrug, Paul moved to find you something adequate. He had a rather extensive collection of ripped band shirts that he accumulated from tourists — none of them possessed a pleasant smell.

He tossed a Judas Priest shirt at you, and while you were in the middle of pulling it on, he was glued to your side again. If you stayed until morning, he would have some explaining to do — or he could drop you at home while you were asleep.

“You’re real pretty,” Paul’s shameless admiration made your flesh warm, a pleasant sensation stirring within your stomach. “You tired? You’re welcome to crash here.” He offered.

“You don’t mind?” Your mother was going to kill you, but it didn’t matter anymore. “I’ll leave first thing in the morning, I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” Despite your reassurance, Paul tossed his head in a show of dismissal.

Admittedly, he could envision you here quite often, vampire or not. There was something about your smell, your blood, your presence — it sucked him right in, even if you were oblivious to it. Paul lounged beside you, watching as you reclined into the pillows.

A beat of silence drifted between the both of you, with Paul ogling you, countenance indiscernible. He seemed a touch surprised when you leaned over to kiss him — a sweet kiss, lacking the carnal intensity of previous entanglements.

“Sleep tight, babe.” Paul mused, watching intently as you fell asleep. Once dawn came, you would find yourself in your own bed, your house — with no knowledge or remembrance of how you got there.

[golddust-if]

you're a wanted person. that isn't new to you, but after years of working, someone. no. something is after you.

you were taught by the best, your mother, she was an amazing woman but she was too trusting and in the end, that was her downfall. you won't make that mistake. you're a killer, but a righteous one. you kill those who deserve it, the disposable.

with your abnormal abilities, of which only twenty-five percent of the population is gifted with. you can succeed in what she was never able to do, rid the world of sinners.

you work for the slaughterhouse, a bar... with a dark side; in a rowdy part of the city. your mother was the owner but she didn't pass it down to you, she passed it your younger twin siblings. she believed you were far too talented to sit behind a desk, dealing with paperwork.

you've traveled all over the world, exterminating. you've claimed plenty of people, but perhaps this time you went after the wrong one. having no other choice you flee back home, but you aren't safe there either, you never are.

play with a customizable mc [gender (male or female), physical appearance, personality, sexuality]

protect those you care about or turn your back on them when they need you.

romance, befriend, or make enemies between any of the sixteen characters. four gender selectable, six male, and six female.

decide what supernatural ability you were gifted with; telepathy, telekinesis, or teleportation [figure out how to develop it and what other ability you have]

define your mc's signature weapon, fighting style and overall skillset; how you feel about killing, and the supernatural abilities you were gifted with.

this story is rated 18+ for sexual themes, substance (drug and alcohol) use, explicit language, and violence. [more themes might be added later]

the tattoo artist [male or female] [ro] wren price – partner in crime. they've been by your side since you can remember. always with a bright smile and cheeky remarks, you can't think about how your life would look without them. though they act differently with others, more serious, with a glint in their eyes you can't quite figure out. they never look at you like that.

the bodyguard [male] [ro] theodore price – the older brother of your best friend. there's no doubt in your mind that they're related. he's protective over you, although you can't hold that against him as that's what he does for a living. protect people. he's hard to get to know on a deeper level and you can't help but wonder what's going on in his mind.

the detective [female] [ro] rori hayes – now, if you weren't yourself, perhaps you could have been friends with her. but unfortunately for you... she's extremely suspicious of you and set to bring you to justice. she's recently been promoted and she cannot afford to fail, not when her family is counting on her.

the chief deputy sheriff [male] [ro] charles butler – good ole charlie, you're acquainted with each other. he can't say he isn't a little impressed with you. but you're endangering the citizens of his city and that includes his little girl. he may not have any evidence on you but you need to be brought down, and he's going to be the one that books you.

the model [male] [ro] julien ripley – son of the sheriff. he always looks uncomfortable with his own father. he’s never talked to you before and you’re almost positive he has no opinion on you. he’s a very well known face, although you can tell he doesn’t like being stared at and overall talking to anyone. *male mcs only

the journalist [female] [ro] sloane campbell – she's fast alright and always seems to know your moves. too bad she isn't on your side. always trying to announce to the world, where you are and what you're planning to do next. good thing she's overlooked at her job, consistently being handed stories that, even you know, aren't going anywhere.

the bartender [male or female] [ro] hale/hart vaughn – a family friend, and your sister's best friend. with their tantalizing words, they don't know the meaning of being serious. they are quite insufferable and you can't seem to be able to get rid of them. you have a feeling if you did, your own sister would come after you.

the florist [female] [ro] paris graham– at first glance she doesn't appear to be anything special, but that would be wrong. she's a firework waiting to explode and you want to be there when it happens. her work doesn't suit her but you have a feeling, that being a florist isn't all that she does. *female mcs only

the apartment owner [male] [ro] nolan adams – he knows about you and what you do, but he doesn’t give off the feeling of someone who’d go running to tell. you’ve always come back to lay low at his apartment complex when you need to and as long as you pay on time he doesn’t care what you do. 

the actor [female] [ro] ophelia wylie – a face from your past, one you can’t say you particularly enjoy facing again. she seems remorseful for what she did to you, in fact she looks like a completely different person and she’s offering to help you, but for what in exchange… after all, no one gives anything for free.

the crime lord [male] [ro] louis foster – of course you’ve heard of lou, you’d be an idiot if you didn’t. he's tried and failed to recruit you and he never fails. you’ve been warned before, it would be a mistake to make an enemy out of a king.

the informant [male] [ro] vincent sutton – it’s rare to ever see him out, only ever seen accompanying lou. if you had the ability to feel fear, you’d fear him. he shows every sign of being against you, but then again, it seems as if he does that to everyone around him as well. 

the chef [male or female] [ro] mateo/melanie olsen – you see them quite often, as their restaurant is one of your favorites. they always serve you with a smile and if they do know you, they play oblivious. they're just happy to have a customer who enjoys their food.

the doctor [female] [ro] eileen yates – serene and calming, a voice who always knows exactly what to say. she may look innocent but she’s far from it, you’ve known her for years yet you don’t truly know her, for all you know eileen may not even be her name. 

the accountant [female] [ro] felix price – the youngest of the price siblings, she helps out with all the money coming into and out of the slaughterhouse. she’s always been compassionate and reasonable. you can't imagine her hurting a fly.

the rival bar owner [male or female] [ro] kinslee dean – they own a bar just a couple streets down from yours. it’s always been a problem and they’re actively trying to shut down the slaughterhouse. but they’re surprisingly level-headed and want to 'handle' this problem with logic.

the owner of the slaughterhouse [male] archer – your younger brother, he’s honestly kind of a mess. he was not ready for this responsibility but he’s trying. the mischievous boy you grew up with, you don’t know where he is anymore.

the owner of the slaughterhouse [female] iris – your younger sister, she’s always been loud and bold. but she’s changed too, she’s calm and collected. she’s trying her best to help her brother along too.

the sheriff [male] lazlo ripley – a pompous man with nothing else to do but terrorize those he thinks are inferior to him. 

DEMO [Coming Soon]

warning: this story is still under development, all elements are subject to change!!

[8housevenus]

career in astrology

hii everyone, i wanted to talk about where in your birth chart you can see your potential jobs, career, and inflow of money. i will also go over how some of the planets manifest throughout your chart with it.

for starters, you want to look at your midheaven. the sign it is in, and planets you have aspecting it, as well as planets that fall under the 10th house are critically important. your midheaven represents you in the actual work field: 10th house represents the ways we might get there or what specifically speaks to us for our endeavors. check your 2nd house to see viable forms of income, the ways you can attain it, and expectations for your living. 8th house-6th house can also represent work life in terms of 8th (money from others or lended), 6th (work ethic & fixations).

career paths

having aries midheaven, mars in 10th, ascendant trine/conjunct/sextile mars, or mars aspecting the midheaven can make one so driven to have an early start to their career. from personal experience, i know many aries placements that love being successful from an early age. very versatile career options, they love something that they can express their creative style while switching it up as often as can. they can also experience many burn outs and crash outs due to them having more spontaneous bursts of energy rather than consistent prolonged efforts. career paths best for these people would be anything more hands on; military, construction, teacher, social worker, business person, etc. because aries traditionally rules over the head region, these people want to indulge themselves in challenge & help challenge others.

celebrities with aries 10th house: elon musk, franz kafka, angelina jolie, kanye west.

taurus midheaven, venus in 10th, ascendant trine/conjunct /sextile venus, venus aspecting midheaven these people love to make adjustments according to their fashion. they want a career that can show off their etiquette and cleanliness. something about showing themselves off as “perfection” or their arts as perfections makes these people highly intrigued into careers like; cooking/baking, niche businesses, clothing designers, interior designers, artists, singers, and influencers. they have sweet spots for being home made and brought up naturally, they take a while to get to their goals- but they will never lose sight of them.

celebrities with taurus 10th house: jessica alba, blake lively, margot robbie, drake, selena gomez

gemini midheaven, mercury in 10th, ascendant trine/conjunct /sextile mercury, mercury aspecting midheaven would appreciate a lifestyle where they can endlessly express their opinions or concerns on topics. they like having it figured out from a young age. they seem attentive, quick minded, chameleons to the state of the world. they love to communicate everything because they “blend in” so much, they sometimes want to stand out the most. careers that suit these people are; activists/ public speaker, sometimes even temporary jobs resonate better for them, directors, communications, accountant, journalists, authors/illustrators, engineering.

celebrities with gemini in 10th house: kevin hart, brooke shields, kris jenner, madonna.

cancer midheaven, moon in 10th, ascendant trine/conjunct /sextile moon, moon aspecting midheaven makes an individual more emotionally bonded to their careers, they need to do something that coincides with their morals. these people are very receptive in their workforce, willing to give and willing to treat their jobs/careers like it’s their baby. their work really is their life, they want to do careers can genuinely better people; therapist, social worker, nurse, dispatcher, personal assistants, instructors of some field.

celebrities with cancer in 10th house: jimmy carter, leonardo dicaprio, denzel washington, john f kennedy, kendrick lamar.

leo midheaven, sun in 10th, ascendant trine/conjunct/sextile sun, sun aspecting midheaven creates a vibrant person, one who shines through their careers. they must have a career they truly enjoy and can encapsulate their essence. they want to be seen for what they do, and oftentimes they are noticed. they get applause a lot in their jobs, certificates, something where they can make a statement. they would preferably settle in careers that are bold; actors, musicians, public speakers, influencers, athletes.

celebrities with leo in the 10th: janet jackson, katy perry, diego costa, harry styles, diego maradona, lana del rey.

virgo midheaven, mercury in 10th, ascendant trine/conjunct/sextile mercury, mercury aspecting midheaven makes one very peculiar about their field. they like to serve, aid, and assist. many like to do the work that no one else does, it makes them feel productive and extremely useful as they are. usually likes to go for health related, science related, or anything physically related as their careers. this can include; nurse, doctor, surgeon,, scientist, dentistry, athlete, physical therapist. anything where they can contribute to perplexing subjects, they are really drawn to.

celebrities with virgo in 10th house: usian bolt, joe biden, bruce lee, nelson mandela, neymar, thomas edison.

libra midheaven, venus in 10th, ascendant trine/conjunct/sextile venus, venus aspecting midheaven makes a person more inclined to pursue a career with legal systems, politics, anywhere where equity lies. they believe their belief system is their biggest power, their fairness serves as admirability from others, can be very well liked in public space & looked up to. because of the venus influence, they appear very alluring in their careers. seems like naturalists to being effortlessly out there. can also be benefitted from others giving them money simply for little things. careers that libra midheaven can excel in; lawyer, political figure, micro influencer, model, police officer, actress, principals, managers.

celebrities with libra in 10th house: princess diana, ronaldo, kylie jenner, parison hilton, messi, malcolm x.

scorpio midheaven, pluto/mars in 10th, ascendant trine/sextile/conjunct mars or pluto, pluto aspecting ascendant makes an individual go for more darker careers- in the sense that they can dig deep into their and other’s psyche. they want to understand things that are deemed impossible, unsolvable, mysterious. they are drawn in by odds stacked against them. they are motivated by struggle & challenge. one where their path has life & death really coincide. careers that these people are suited for are; detectives, psychologists, analysts for their endeavors, forensic scientist, surgeon, police, psychics.

celebrities with scorpio in 10th: ariana grande, obama, megan fox, nicki minaj, kobe bryant, selena quintanilla, sza.

sagittarius midheaven, jupiter in 10th, ascendant trine/sextile/conjunct jupiter, jupiter aspecting ascendant is somebody who wants to expand in their careers, go further, likely to get a masters or bachelors. education is so important to them, the more they know the better. they love to try new things, new places, meet new people. they can become extremely abundant by their work and want to share some of their wisdom to the world. always want to subliminally teach something. careers for these people that suit them are; pilots, flight attendants, journalist, realtor, religious teacher, priest, social worker.

celebrities with sagittarius in 10th: michael jackson, abraham lincoln, hozier, jenna ortega, deepak chopra, nispey hussle.

capricorn midheaven, saturn in 10th, ascendant trine/sextile/conjunct saturn, saturn aspecting ascendant very determined people, persistent, and resilient to their work. one of the most ambitious to achieve their goals. since they were younger they’ve known that they are destined for making something out of themselves. seen as very serious and intimidating because they feel super protective over their reputation and paths. discipline comes a long way, they might even have to work twice as hard just to be where they are. careers for these people; business owner, corporate, consultant, dentists/surgeons, accountants, financial planners/advisors.

celebrities with capricorn in 10th: rihanna, billie eilish, nikola tesla, jeff bezos, jordan peterson, morgan freeman.

aquarius midheaven, saturn/uranus in 10th, ascendant trine/sextile/conjunct uranus, uranus aspecting ascendant gives one skills and abilities in things that others do not understand or find stressful. aquarius midheaven has a natural interest in difficult areas. they like coming up with different things, extremely innovative and creative. these people leave legacies in their area of interest, inflicting change and making hard things easier to understand is common for them. careers for these people; engineers, computer scientists, activists, mathematicians, -ologists of any kind, designers, transportation, autonomy.

celebrities with aquarius in 10th house: hilary clinton, neil armstrong, amy wine house, jared leto, will smith.

pisces midheaven, neptune in 10th, ascendant trine/conjunct/sextile neptune, neptune aspecting ascendant allows a person to be huge visionaries in their field. they have so many ideas, influx of projects, and they get inspired through absolutely everything. as contemplative as they are, they love leaving their options open. not all those who wander are lost type of vibe. they naturally love to give and it is important that they are at one with their careers. sometimes seems like they are so fit for what they do. it has to be something they feel at peace with or that doesn’t involve too many others; artists, writers, philosophers/psychologists, photographers, spiritualist, architects.

celebrities with pisces in 10th house: lady gaga, adele, van gogh, cher, kamala harris, shakespeare, lebron james.

remember, it is not just your midheaven that represents what you will do in this life, keep in mind of the others things like i stated earlier, also jupiter is very important when we talk about income here. depending on the house it is in will show you how you can attract that money. ex; jupiter in 11h, make money through similar ways an aquarius midheaven might. or they might find that it interests them to go after something that standardly an aquarius midheaven would. 6th house is how we can approach projects. ex; 6th house mars could have an assertive work style, communicative, sharp minded, calculated, determined to duty. 2nd house shows you how you are with money in general, ex; neptune in 2nd can make someone more reckless with spending, giving to others easily, or losing track of budgets. ex,if you have an 8th house mercury persay, you can get money lended a lot by siblings or close relatives, fellow coworkers. (if you have any in particular shoot me a message or comment it down below and i can let you know my inputs on yours).

thank you for reading and like i said if you need any clarification i will be more than happy to clarify!

[diceisbored]

She Saw..

Henry Hart x Reader

Summary: Piper sees you kiss the one and only Kid Danger. However, she's more concered about the fact that it's not her brother.

Warnings: kissing,, petnames(baby),, implied cheating

I AM REWRITING BOTH PARTS OF THIS VERY SOON!!!

pt1, pt2

"You have to go home, Hen," I pushed him away with a hand on his chest. He tightend his grip on my waist, pulling me into a hug.

"Jus' one more? Please, baby?" He tilted his head, looking like a kicked puppy.

I slid my hand from his chest to the back of his head, slowly pulling him in, "One more. Then you go home."

"See I still don't get why I can't just spend the night," He mumbled, voice just a bit whiny.

I watched as his eyes flicked between my own and my lips, "Your parents want you home, Henry."

"Mhm, whatever," He quickly captured my lips in a kiss. I rolled my eyes before closing them, threading my hand through his hair.

Pulling away as he tried to deepen the kiss, he groaned in annoyance.

"Go home, Henry."

"Fine. I'll see you in the morning, Love you."

"I love you too," I lightly push him away, laughing to myself as he almost fell.

Walking in my house, I put my purse and keys down and turned on the tv for background noise.

Until Piper barged in shouting my full name.

"I seriously have no idea what you think you were doing!"

"What are you talking about?"

Piper huffed, angrier than I've ever seen her, "I saw you kiss Kid Danger."

My face got red, and I was suddenly at a loss for words, "Piper."

She shouted my name again, "No! I care about you, I really do but, I have to tell Henry."

I closed my eyes in thought, trying to figure out what to do.

"I'll tell him, Piper."

"That- okay."

She calms down, just a bit, "That doesn't make it right, I hope you know."

"Yeah, I know," I have to force down my laugh.

shshsshshhs i dont know how i came up with this but lmk if i should write the part where henry gets toldd

masterlist

request rules

[justsomerandomfanfic]

We Meet Again In Italy - Eggsy Unwin X Female Reader

Title: We Meet Again In Italy

Eggsy Unwin X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's boss, Random character (Alexandra Winslet), Kingsman (Mentioned), and Harry Hart (Mentioned)

| Part 1 |

WC: 4,186

Warnings: Reader is mentioned wearing a dress/heels/makeup, enemies to lovers, banter, flirting, teasing, very brief mention on abuse, some italics, brief mention of crying, slight angst, and fluff

One word to describe Italy is 'breathtaking,' and that couldn't be more true than it was when you walked through the streets of Rome upon your first day there. Everything about Italy seemed so picturesque and beautiful. But you didn't have time to walk around and enjoy the scenery - no matter how much you would have loved to do so - you were on your mission. After the incident in the bookstore in New York, you were determined to get that file back from Eggsy.

"He's been spotted entering his hotel. Hotel Da Vinci." Your boss spoke to you over your earpiece as you sat in the middle of your large hotel bed. That was actually really nice; you might have to invest in a better mattress when you got home. "A message will come to you shortly with the information, along with the address to the gala he is going to be attending tonight."

Pausing, your hand hovering over your paperwork. "Gala?" You knew Eggsy loved to dance, but still. "Why is he going to a gala?" You asked, picking up the couple of pictures you had of Eggsy in various locations back from when you were tailing him in New York.

"He's meeting someone by the name of Alexandra Winslet. We doubt that is her real name, but that's all the information that we got on her."

"A name and a face is all I need." You spoke up, eyes flickering to your phone as a notification popped up. Picking up your phone from beside you on the bed, you unlock it before tapping your messages, slowly scanning the few pictures and documents that you were sent. Stopping at the picture of the supposed Alexandra Winslet, you hummed, tilting your head to the side. "Purple," You muttered, your eyes immediately going to her hair, which was short, cut to just below her chin; in a shade of violet purple. One thing was for sure, you'd have an easy time spotting her in a crowd. Scrolling further, you stopped at the picture of a mansion, surrounded by a fancy iron gate. "I am assuming that this mansion is where the gala is going to be held?"

You watched as the message bubbles popped up before you were sent the address, "Yes," Your boss then spoke, "It's a black-and-white event. Make sure to keep within the dress code. And get that file back. I don’t want any other issues to arise."

Shutting your phone off, you leaned back against the plush, satin headboard, "Sure thing, boss," You sighed, rubbing your forehead with a hand, you kept your hand there as you shut your eyes, "Is there anything else I need to know?"

"We’ll keep you updated." The line went dead.

Huffing, you opened your eyes, blinking as you checked your watch on your wrist. "Well," You muttered to yourself, clicking off your earpiece as you shuffled off the bed, trying not to crumple any of your paperwork and pictures as you did so. "Time to go shopping, I guess."

And so, you found yourself in Milan, which was the same city where the gala was going to be held. Milan was such a lovely place, full of rich, dazzling architecture, just like the rest of the country; it was also quite famous for fashion, especially among wealthy business people and high society alike. And before you knew it, your small shopping spree was finished. With two large bags looped on your arms, you made your way to your rental, and back to your hotel.

Entering your hotel room, you quickly shut the door, locking it before you sped to the bed and placed your bags down. They weren't hurting your arms with their weight, no, but it was what was inside that was important: your dress. Sliding out the white, paper box, you spied the brand name on the top lid, written in black, curvy font. Carefully, you pulled off the lid, feeling a small rush of adrenaline fill your system as you sat the lid to the side, your eyes zoned in on the black folded dress before you. 

Biting your lip, you tried to hide the large grin that was about to spread on your face as you gently took the fabric into your hands. Without a second thought, and seeing that you were right on time, you began to get ready for the gala.

It was around four once you finished getting ready, dressed to the nines and a hint of excitement ran through you. Staring at yourself in the full-length mirror near the bathroom, you turned every which way, your lips curled upward, feeling completely gorgeous. The dress was all-black, the sleeves were off-the-shoulder, the maxi skirt just brushed the floor, and it was made out of the softest velvet that you have ever felt in your entire life. Once you saw the dress on one of the mannequin models, you knew that you had to have it. Brushing your hands down the skirt, you gave yourself one last look; honestly loving the way your red, painted lips stood out amongst the black.

Turning to the bed, you pulled your message bag over, opened the flap, and pulled out a small, wooden rectangular box. You paused, eyes softening as you opened the box's lid, revealing a simple, gold necklace with a single pendant hanging from it. You smiled softly as you gazed at it, remembering the night that he had given it to you. Turning to the mirror once more, you carefully unclasped the necklace, sliding it around your neck before fastening the clasp behind your neck. As you stared at yourself, you started to wonder what he would think. Would he like it? You bit your lip as your fingers grazed over the gold surface, only to shake your head; you shouldn't be thinking like that. It shouldn't even matter what Eggsy thinks. This was a mission. This was your job, your life. You didn't have time for romance or flirtatious games. Not this time around.

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to turn away from the reflection and looked around your hotel room for your shoes. Finding the box of brand-new gold heels near the door of the bed, you picked up one of them and slipped it onto your foot before slipping on the other heel. Standing straight, you looked into your mirror again, fiddling with your hair before you felt your mind slipping back to him. Growing frustrated with yourself, you glared at your reflection.

"Get the file and leave." You spoke, voice stern, "Don't fall for his tricks again... You don't have time for it. You're on a mission, remember?" You muttered to yourself. You shook your head. You could hear his laughter in your ears, see that grin on his face, that glimmer in his eyes... You gritted your teeth. Closing your eyes tight, you inhaled sharply before opening them, pushing those thoughts away. Raising your hand, you turned on your earpiece with two soft taps, "Sir, I'm ready."

~~~

Pulling up to the mansion, you leaned over slightly to look at it through the front view window. You had done a bit of research on the large home before arriving. Villa Mondadori, an Art Nouveau building. Designed by architect Steno Sioli Legnani for the textile entrepreneur Pasquale Crespi in 1897, it consisted of fifteen bedrooms, fifteen bathrooms, various large lounges, and a spa area with a complete gym, cinema room, bar, and terraces. At the small tap on your passenger window, you snapped out of your daze, your eyes landing on what you assumed to be the valet parking attendant.

Stepping out of your car, you handed the valet the keys, giving the young man a polite smile and nod before looking up at the building as you walked up the three steps. The building was three stories, the first level's exterior was almost an ivory color, while the second and third levels were a sort of cream color. What you loved the most were the large windows, large enough to let in all the natural light. You tried to pay no mind to the two guards at the door, walking towards them, holding yourself high and confidently.

"Ciao," You gave them both a charming smile, hoping that either of them would just let you in, as you had planned.

The one guard to your left was tall, well past six feet, and with trimmed blonde hair that was combed to the side. The guard to your right was a bit shorter than his guard partner, though still taller than you, and was far less intimidating, but you took note of his piercing blue eyes and the way his black hair was buzzed close to the scalp. Both men stared at you, observing and analyzing you as their eyes narrowed and their mouths pursed. Before you could ask them if they were going to allow you entrance into the house, the guard on the left cleared his throat, "Buona sera," He said, his eyes slowly looking at you up and down.

You expertly hid your distaste as you replied politely, "Sì, buona sera." You glanced at each of them, expectantly, and finally, they moved aside, allowing you entry into the house. The hallway that led straight ahead was lined with doors, all decorated with lavish designs and intricate woodwork carved into the frames. There were paintings of beautiful landscapes hung along the walls, some of which were covered by black and white, silky drapes. Fit for the gala's theme, you admired it.

Following the live classical music that was echoing throughout the halls, you found yourself in the main room, watching as couples danced together in what you presumed was the living room they converted into a ball-like room. You took a moment to admire the room around you, eyeing the grand, crystal chandelier that hung down, and the large windows that surrounded the room. Taking another glance at your surroundings, your eyes landed on a bar lounge on the far right wall, admiring the beautifully detailed painted ceiling, depicting the Renaissance era. The room was lit up brightly, making the room feel warm and inviting, and you couldn't help but let a small sigh escape your lips; it really was quite beautiful, even though you weren't there to enjoy the party, you were here for that file. That you hoped to god Eggsy brought with him somehow.

Moving with a certain grace, you made your way to the bar, finding a nice place to stand and watch the couples dancing the night away to the live violin, cello, and piano concertos playing from a stage further away from where you were standing. It was a quick dance, the couples stepping closer together as they spun circles around the room; dresses fluttered around their legs. Their movements captivated you.

"What are you doing here?" A voice spoke up, and the corner of your lips lifted when you heard it. Leaning on the counter behind you, you rested your elbows against it as you turned your head to meet Eggsy's confused and astounded gaze.

"Can't a girl go out and have fun?" You asked, smiling coyly as you turned around the face the bar, Eggsy turned with you, his body facing you, his eyes staring at the side of your face; his expression turned from bewildered to something unknown.

As you signaled the bartender, Eggsy finally spoke up once more. "I wasn't aware that you were invited..." His tone lightened some.

"Neither was I." You responded simply as the bartender walked over to you. "Martini. Asciutto." You requested before looking back over at Eggsy coyly. "I sort of just... Invited myself." Smirking slightly, you waited patiently as the bartender prepared your drink. When the bartender was about to give you the drink, you took the drink. Turning to face Eggsy, you kept your eyes on his as you took a sip. You watched as his eyes followed the movement of your mouth, as he swallowed his own drink. Shrugging casually, you looked back up at Eggsy.

"Well now," Eggsy sat down his glass, "Let's not get straight to business. Isn't the view wonderful?" Your eyes roamed around the room, taking in the scenery before you turned your gaze back to the man beside you.

"Quite wonderful," You answered, "You clean up well, Eggsy." You teased, leaning forward slightly.

Eggsy's eyes flashed, a smirk forming across his lips, "You look stunning, as usual, love." His eyes scanned over your form, slowly, drinking you in, "Do you care to dance?" He asked, chuckling softly as he took another sip of his drink.

"Dance?" You replied, taking a sip of your martini as well. Dancing with him couldn't hurt. It would give you an excuse to get closer to him, for the file... Yeah, for the file. He might have it in his inside jacket pocket. Coming quickly with your conclusion, you nodded, setting down your drink and offering your hand. "Just one, Eggsy. And then we talk."

"Whatever you want, love," He spoke, taking your hand in his and leading you to the dance floor, and what timing... The band had begun to play a slow song.

Pulling you close, and with one hand in yours, Eggsy put his other hand on your waist, as you put your extra hand on his shoulder. To the music the both of you swayed, moving from side to side, Eggsy keeping his eyes on you the entire time, as you gazed into his. It was nice, the atmosphere, but the unsaid tension was still there.

"Agent, does he have the file?" You heard over your earpiece, making you huff as you took your hand off of his shoulder to turn off your earpiece.

Eggsy tilted his head slightly, his eyes shining with slight amusement at your annoyed expression before they softened once more, his eyes landing on the necklace that lay around your neck. Without a word, he reached out and lightly brushed his thumb across the surface of the smooth, gold pendant. Your skin tingled as his thumb caressed the top of the necklace gently, his eyes remained glued to the necklace. "I remember that night." He muttered, finally allowing his eyes to stray from the necklace to your eyes. "We were after the same person, back in-"

"Back in Japan. I know." You pursed your lips, looking at him intently, trying your best to keep a calm composure as the memories resurfaced in your mind once more.

Dance, grab, and go. Dance, grab, and go. 

Eggsy mimicked you, pursing his own lips as he stared right back at you. He was studying you. From all the times you and he found each other during overlapping missions - which was quite a few over the years - he knew that you were hiding something. Something deep within. But what? He liked to think that he could read you pretty easily, but even though he had known you for more than four years, you were still a mystery to him. You could be a very good actor if need be. You could hide anything. Hell, there were so many secrets behind those gorgeous eyes of yours. And that's what made you so good at your job, Eggsy thought. You concealed yourself, you didn't let anyone see you; but, there were always traces, tiny cracks, or hints that would show themselves to whomever was looking close enough. Eggsy thought he was lucky enough to see some of those cracks.

Eggsy suddenly realized how close the two of you were standing, with his hand on your waist, pulling you close to him, for a soft sway of a dance. He couldn't help but let himself enjoy this moment, enjoying the way your body felt pressed against his, the warmth that radiated from your skin onto his; seeping, warming his bones, and filling his veins with electricity. The way his pulse pounded in his ears as he stared at your lips, imagining pressing his own against them. He wanted to kiss you. Not just because he wanted to; no. It was more than that. It was a craving, a burning desire he had been fighting since day one of meeting you. Every time he saw you, his heart skipped a beat and butterflies filled his stomach whenever your eyes met - even though he hated how cliche that all sounded in his head - he swore that he was getting addicted to you - he was addicted to you - his whole world became completely focused on you. It was insane. The longing.

If only, in a perfect world, the both of you could go off the grid, away from the espionage and the lies, and just be together. Away from the stress, the fear, the uncertainty. Just be together. But, Eggsy loved working as a spy. It was what his father did before him, and it gave Eggsy a new meaning of life… If Harry hadn’t found him, he probably would’ve still been outsmarting his mother’s abusive boyfriend by now. But you… If you had asked him to quit… He’d quit for you. 

Licking his lips, Eggsy spoke up, "I didn't think you'd keep it." You frowned, slightly, "Your necklace, I mean." He added quickly, his fingers twitching as he tightened his hold on your waist.

"Why wouldn't I keep it?" You raised a brow, "It's cute."

Eggsy chuckled, a grin reappearing back on his face, feeling the slightly awkward tension lifting, "I told you I have great taste.” He then continued, “Now, you never answered my question, love."

"As to why I'm here?" You continued with your response, raising a brow as your hand slid down from his shoulder to rest on his chest. You almost let out a small laugh, biting your bottom lip to stop the smile that was threatening to come out. A wave of fulfillment washed over you, and you felt like a weight had disappeared off of your shoulders. The file, the one that you were looking for, was in his breast pocket. You could tell from just the slightest of pressure that he carefully folded it all to fit into the pocket. "I'm here for that file that you stole from me."

Eggsy chuckled, shaking his head lightly, though you could see what you thought was disappointment in his eyes. "And here I thought you just wanted to see me."

"Who says I didn't also come here to see you?" You smiled, your hand sliding back up to place itself on his shoulder.

"Really, love?" Eggsy asked, raising an eyebrow as he stared at you, trying to discern if you were lying or if this was just some ploy to let his guard down, or possibly trick him into giving you the file... Which he would not do. He'd do anything for you, but giving you the file was not one of them.

You glanced away at the band, "Who's Alexandra Winselt?" You suddenly asked, bringing your voice down into a soft murmur, your eyes once more locking on his. 

"Jealous much, Y/N?" He joked, causing you to roll your eyes before answering him,

"Annoying much, Eggsy?"

Even though it didn't match up well with how slow the song was, Eggsy spun you out before spinning you back in - the hem of your dress swirling around you - before dipping you; your leg instinctively went up against the side of his torso, making him hold your thigh tightly with one hand, while the other was secured around your waist. Looking down at you, it wasn't obvious what he was thinking about, which made it all the more intriguing. And although the music was still playing, you felt the silence in the air.

He pulled you back up slowly, and for a moment, a slight moment, you thought he was going to kiss you. There was this... This look in his eyes was warm - You felt your heart swell - you couldn't figure out if this look he was giving you was new, or if he had ever looked at you like that before. You didn't think he looked at you like that before... Maybe it was in Rio, or Japan the year before, or maybe even in Canada the year before that... Maybe it was in London, where you first met. You were sure, but that look, it was something else.

Dance.

"Eggsy..." You spoke up, cutting the thick tension like a knife through butter, your voice no higher than a whisper - angelic in his ears; you almost felt as if you didn't even say anything, but you were certain Eggsy heard you. 

You felt an overwhelming urge to lean up and kiss him, but instead, you held yourself back from doing so. The moment lasted only for a second but it seemed like hours as Eggsy kept staring into your eyes, trying to determine whether or not to let his desires take control. If only he knew how strong the pull was between the two of you; it was like the gravity between the two of you grew and multiplied, as if you two were drawn to each other by magnets. You both stood, in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by other dancers as the music faded and a more upbeat classical song began. 

“Y/N…” Eggsy raised his hand, tucking a few stray hairs behind your hair, his movements almost trance-like.

And then he was leaning in, and so were you. Eyes heavy-lidded, you felt his hot breath against your face, his nose nudging yours, your lips just brushing his. But you paused, just a hair away from your lips on his, you... You couldn’t do it. Sighing deeply, you shut your eyes fully, your mind and heart fighting against one another as Eggsy opened his eyes, blinking rapidly; confused. 

Grab.

"I'm sorry, Eggsy... I can't do this." You slowly pulled back, unable to look him in the eye, but knowing that his lips were turned into an incredibly perplexed, yet somewhat sad frown. With a hesitant touch, you flatted his lapels before continuing, "I already got what I needed." You then quickly pulled away from him, his arms dropping from your waist as you hurried out of the room, and out of the extravagant mansion.

… And go.

You harshly bit your bottom lip, the back of your eyes burning with unshed tears as you lightly sniffled and sped to your car, blindly and expertly grabbing the keys from the valet attendant. You didn't waste your time speeding out of the lot, and down the road before tapping on the radio. You turned up the volume, your eyes blurring slightly as you drove back to your hotel. You needed to get out of the country, and fast. God, feelings, you hated them. They just complicated everything, and they always hurt. You tried so hard to not fall for him, but every single time he walked into the room, every single time he made your cheeks flush, every single time his eyes met yours and he got that little smile on his face, everything inside of you melted like ice cream on a hot summer day. How was he able to make you feel like this? You had to get out of the country.

Eggsy stood, in the middle of the dancefloor, without you, and though he looked sort of odd standing there all by himself, staring at the floor in a sort of faraway expression on his face, he didn't care. He never really cared about what people thought about him. He felt heartbroken... It was the best word he could think of. Both heartbroken and confused. Why did you leave like that? He was pretty sure that if he left right now, he could have followed you. He wanted to, but... He knew that it wouldn't have worked. You were too independent, and too stubborn - it was two of the many things he loved about you. You had to come to your own conclusions. And he was sure that you had done that. He just wasn't the answer. 

Sighing, Eggsy took a deep breath in and out, his shoulders drooping as he gathered his composure. But he froze once more, feeling his shoulders stiffen again and his eyes widened slightly as he took in a sharp breath. 'I already got what I needed...' Eggsy replayed your words over and over again in his head and he recognized those words. They were the same words he said to you after he grabbed the file from you in New York at that bookstore. His hand snapped up to his right breast pocket. Opening his jacket, he huffed, defeated, dropping his hands to his side. The file was gone. Though, through the heartache, he let a small, fond - and definitely impressed - smile spread onto his face. Yet again, you managed to surprise him. He sighed heavily, running a hand down his face before heading to the bar. He needed a drink.

---

Main Masterlist | Kingsman Masterlist

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@bethsvrse

[slut4celebs]

Sweet Tooth

Sabrina Carpenter x Reader

Word Count: 1,006 words

Trigger Warnings: a bunch of fluff, they shower together but nothing happens

Request & Synopsis: "fluffy fic with Sabrina after one of her tours" - A cute fic in which Sabrina just needs after show cuddles with her girlfriend.

Requests are: open.

(Y/n) let the security escort her backstage early due to it apparently being Sabrina's request during a quick break she had for a quick change. She followed them, waving at a few fans who were recording her. Getting used to the filming and photos was still a little strange, but she has handled it with grace. She wasn't in the industry, so initially she didn't know how to handle it, but Sabrina just told her to 'smile and wave.' This was a trick she also learned from the Penguins from Madagascar, a movie she constantly convinced Sabrina to watch with her on the tour bus or when they inhabited her apartment.

Getting to the back, she was able to watch the last few moments of Sabrina singing her song of the summer, Espresso. (Y/n) smiled proudly, nose scrunching in excitement as she watched Sabrina enter. Sabrina gently fell into her girlfriend's arms and she held her close. "You did so good," she said softly, not caring that Sabrina was sweaty. She cared more about the way her girlfriend's eyes lit up at the praise she had received. Sabrina deserved it though. She was absolutely outstanding, and (Y/n) was absolutely enthralled with her singing and her performance. She always gave it her all on stage and that was evident. (Y/n) didn't understand why Sabrina even looked her way, but she felt incredibly lucky that she did. Even more so that their feelings were mutual.

Sabrina tightened her hold on her girlfriend slightly. "Is it too much to request a shower and some cuddles?" She asked with a sweet smile. She pressed her dark-pink painted lips against her girlfriend's hoping to sweeten the deal. (Y/n) knew what she was doing, but she didn't mind. Sabrina didn't have to convince her though. She was always down to cuddle Sabrina. After she nodded, she led (Y/n) to the shower. "Can you please wash my hair for me, too? I'm too tired and I just want your touch."

The question made (Y/n) smile brighter as she agreed. She gently massaged and worked the shampoo into her girlfriend's hair, the conditioner following. Sabrina couldn't help but appreciate the intimacy of the action. After the shower, they dressed in their after show clothes that they packed. Meaning, just some 'Short n Sweet' sweatshirts and sweatpants that they had specially made. (Y/n) always adorned and promoted Sabrina's merch. Since the start of their relationship, (Y/n) became Sabrina's biggest fan. She wanted to make sure the world knew that she was Sabrina Carpenter's girlfriend, and that she was very proud over the fact. Sabrina was her favorite person, and she was so insanely into her.

Sabrina, in turn, didn't know what she would do without (Y/n). They met at a coffee shop when she was dating Joshua Bassett. After the entire thing blew up, the coffee shop became her haven away from all of the paparazzi since (Y/n) kicked out anyone trying to take pictures of her. She didn't exactly know who Sabrina was before that since she wasn't chronically online. But when she got to know Sabrina, her mind finally clicked and she realized that she was indeed Maya Hart from Girl Meets World, a show she indulged in whenever she was sick and staying home from school. Now, the two were closer than ever. (Y/n) never let the fame of Sabrina get to her. She instead, stepped back and let Sabrina get all the praise that she felt her girlfriend deserved.

Once (Y/n) graduated college, being a couple years younger than Sabrina, she was able to find a remote job in able to travel with Sabrina. This made it to where (Y/n) would do all of her work when she woke up and then would meet Sabrina before her show so she knew where to sit. It was a repetitive cycle the two got used to and loved. Normally, she would stay and finish the show, trying to beat the crowd from overwhelming her with questions as she made her way backstage, but tonight Sabrina had wanted to come back early. Whatever Sabrina wanted, she would deliver. Now, she was delivering cuddles to her girlfriend in her tour bus.

As (Y/n) held Sabrina as the two were curled in each other's arms, watching Alice in Wonderland. "You know, you kind of look like Alice." She teased, with a giant grin. The words caused Sabrina to gasp playfully, her blue eyes met (Y/n)'s and she shook her head. "How come you see any blonde cartoon character, you say I look like them. There are some distances between Alice and I. Besides, with that wide grin of yours, you look just like the Cheshire Cat, you know?" She claimed with playful defiance as her fingers tickled her girlfriend playfully.

(Y/n) didn't allow this to deter her playfulness, grinning wider, a laugh falling from her lips as she caught Sabrina's hands. "Oh, please," she said, pressing a kiss to her lips, "you're blonde, short, blue-eyed, and you have bangs. You two even wear your bangs the same, parted in the middle." She concluded, only to be ultimately silenced by her girlfriend's later. Her eyes fluttered close as she reciprocated the kiss happily. It was an obvious ploy to get her to stop talking, though the two knew it was playful.

"Okay, whatever, Cheshire, I look like Alice." She shook her head, moving back to being cuddled by her girlfriend. She enjoyed their playful banter. As the movie continued, Sabrina noted that (Y/n)'s breathing became a bit slower. This was a big giveaway that she had fallen asleep. Turning over, she saw this to be true. She kissed (Y/n)'s forehead softly before turning off the movie and nuzzling deeper into the girl's arms. Out of all the people in the world, Sabrina would be forever grateful that she met (Y/n), the girl who understood her the most.

[vintagetvstars]

In light of James Earl Jones recent passing I thought it would be nice to celebrate his life and career by highlighting some of his major TV works.

Unfortunately most of these shows have not made the leap to online streaming and it’s possible they may have never even been released in any form of physical media. I hope one day we may see these shows available for viewing again but for now I’ll share what I could find of them.

Gabriel’s Fire (1990 - 1991)

“The main character, Gabriel Bird, was played by James Earl Jones. He was a former Chicago police officer who, over twenty years prior, had been wrongfully sentenced to life imprisonment for the murder of a fellow police officer. In fact, he shot the officer to protect a defenseless mother and child whom the officer was about to murder in cold blood during a 1969 police raid. Unbeknownst to Bird, the raid had been merely a pretext for the police to attack the members of a militant black nationalist organization.

This incident in the character's background was inspired by the 1969 death of Black Panther Party leader Fred Hampton, who was shot and killed during a raid upon his residence conducted by Chicago police and other law enforcement personnel. On the show, the street on which the raid involving Bird had occurred was identified as "Hampton Street".

After serving about twenty years in prison, a human rights lawyer decides to work for his release as his testimony is needed in another case. At first, Bird opposes any attempts to release him, as he became accustomed to life in prison, but after his release takes place against his will, he begins to get used to life as a free person and uses his time away from prison to help other people who are wronged by society or the authorities.

When Bird is released, he starts working as a private detective, hired by the lawyer who had helped free him.” (Source)

James Earl Jones won the Emmy for Outstanding Lead Actor in a Drama Series for his role in this show.

While this show is unfortunately unavailable on streaming services I was able to find someone who had uploaded a recording of the first episode on YouTube (unfortunately I could not find the rest of the series at this time). There do not seem to be any DVD or physical media copies of this show.

Paris (1979)

“Los Angeles Police Captain Woody Paris (Jones) is the supervisor of a team of rookie detectives, led by Sergeant Stacy Erickson (Cecilia Hart) and including officers Charlie Bogart (Jake Mitchell), Ernesto Villas (Frank Ramirez), and Willie Miller (Michael Warren). Hank Garrett portrayed Deputy Chief Jerome Bench, Paris' superior, and, in an unusual turn for police dramas of that era, Paris' home and off-duty life was given considerable attention, with Lee Chamberlin portraying his wife Barbara. Paris additionally moonlighted as a professor of criminology at a local university.” (Source)

This show is also unavailable online and I could only find DVD listings on a few obscure sites so it’s unclear if any physical media of this show truly exists. However I did find a short clip of its theme (unfortunately it’s just a short clip of James Earl Jones in the intro sequence followed by the rest of the music over a blurry image of him).

Pros and Cons (1991 - 1992)

"Gabriel Bird is a former Chicago police officer, who, over twenty years prior, had been wrongfully sentenced to life imprisonment for the murder of a fellow officer. He was exonerated and subsequently became a Chicago private detective (as seen on Gabriel's Fire). Bird then moves to Los Angeles, where he teams up with another private eye, Mitch O'Hannon. Bird also marries his love interest, Josephine, She had been the proprietress of a café where Bird had begun frequenting shortly after his release, at first for her good, homestyle cooking, but soon, primarily for her companionship." (Source)

Once again this show has not made the leap to streaming and there have seemingly been no DVD or physical media releases of it. However I did find a clip of a short promotional spotlight for the show.

Heat Wave (1990)

"Heat Wave is a 1990 American thriller-drama television film about the 1965 Los Angeles Watts Riots" (Source)

Heat Wave was a made for TV movie and also starred: Blair Underwood and Cicely Tyson.

James Earl Jones won the Emmy for Supporting Actor in a Movie or Miniseries for his role in this movie.

This movie is available for streaming on Amazon, Apple TV, and Fandango at Home. And it looks like there are some DVD copies for purchase on Amazon, Ebay, and other sites.

Here is a promotional trailer for the movie.

CW: Police Brutality and Racism

I hope this has bean able to shine a light on a lesser acknowledged section of James Earl Jones extensive acting career and legacy. And I hope one day those shows of his that have been seemingly lost to time may yet see the light of day once again.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 3 part 1

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2])

hey hey, it's episode 3 Through Many Miles of Tricks and Trials and we're on the Road, witches!

Agatha knew All Along (that Billy created the Road), evidence number 1 out of 646132.

And see how they added black bars in this episode? They're getting ready to switch aspect ratio like they did in Wandavision

but like, she's not wrong. you see that sharon's not wrong, don't you? she has been kidnapped by witches. again.

agatha's grimace when they say it's all her fault. which a) it totally is and b) she never expects other witches to be supportive of her anyway

oh sharon, you beautiful fish out of water. we all laugh at her, meanwhile she's PANICKING. HARD.

this particular group needs to figure out how to do that first, Billy. but hey, they'll get there. sort of.

Jen, looking directly at agatha: why is this MAGICLESS HELPLESS lady coming with us on a deadly mission, whose sick idea was this? she has no business being here!

Sharon, her voice drowned by everyone else: see that's what I've been trying to tell you~

Agatha deflecting hard, like the coward she is: HEY THIS IS MY GOOD FRIEND MRS HART YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT

a very scared coven looks at agatha for answers, because she's the only one who's ever been on the Road.

agatha, who's never fucking been on the Road and made up the whole thing: I've bullshitted my way into this mess, I'll bullshit my way out of it. live laugh love bitches!

I'm looking at this scene clearly for the first time now that I've brightened it, and wow, the others are worried, but sharon looks so scared, always so scared

billy is having the time of his life, and you'd think agatha would step in at some point and warn him about what he's done. but nah. let's wait and see. as long as she's covering her own ass.

lilia looking at billy's sigil like, damn that's some neat handiwork, wonder who did that. she sounds like a cool witch.

agatha totally insults stuff when she's impressed with it like some cheap anime tsundere

lies.

but see how she puts her whole body between billy and the others? super protective mama

HOW COULD YOU GUYS LOSE HER SO QUICKLY. it's funny and all, but this is exactly how she'll die: they'll forget about her until it's too late.

it's so clever what they're doing with sharon, and it's so clever that they chose debra jo rupp for it, because she's so delightfully funny. I've talked already about how the comedy in the first few episodes is deceptive. sharon is living in a horror movie and you're not supposed to see it quite yet.

you think she's a funny old lady upset about losing her purse. you think maybe she's gonna find out she's magical and join the coven, who knows! so much fun, so many possibilities! you don't think that this is a woman in her 70s who was brutally tortured by a witch only a few years back, you forgot the lesson from wandavision. this evening she was tending her garden and now she's god knows where with a bunch of those very witches she's sure to be terrified of, kidnapped by a neighbor she thought she could trust. think about that, she's not going home, ever. I'll elaborate more at the end of the episode, but this is a show about the inevitability of death. sharon is like nicky, doomed by the narrative, and it'll take you two or three or four rewatches to fully see it and to make your peace with it.

alice tenderheart, alice braveheart jumps to the rescue with no esitation. she is a protection witch. she protects.

agatha stands in the back and (pretends she) doesn't care, like some asshole.

hey agatha, hey agatha? fuck you. fuck you agatha.

she's pulling all this out of her ass. she might as well be doing fart noses right now

my headcanon is that this is where Billy dreams to retire with Boyf in their golden years. you know he thinks about that sort of stuff

thank you to @friedwizardwhispers for pointing out that agatha is also in awe of the Road and the magic it took to create it. she is! look at her here, she's scared but also excited, she's fundamentally a nerd who's always hungry to learn and discover more about magic and spellcraft. she hates the witch community but she's also obsessed with it

now look at this sequence: agatha demonstrates once again that she knows Billy is behind all of this. only she goes about it with hints and metaphors because - you know - she's a damn fucking coward

sharon has gone through all the stages of grief in twenty minutes: denial (this is a kidnapping!), anger (this came from talbots, you can't have it!) bargain (okay, okay, okay, catching my breath, okay), depression (I don't know how do you expect me to walk and walk and walk when there is nowhere to walk to!) aaand now she's accepted her fate. time to get drunk. and die.

"That would be such a bummer." WOULD IT NOW BILLY. WOULD IT BE SUCH A BUMMER IF SHARON DIED SO SENSELESSLY? WOULD IT SEND AUDIENCES THROUGH ALL FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF TOO IF SHE WAS KILLED LIKE THAT??? IT'S ALMOST AS IF THEY'RE DOING IT ON PURPOSE OR SMTH BILLY

what I'm saying is, the writers are truly basking in some cruel irony right now. especially considering that billy is going to feel so responsible about sharon's death

the others look back at the house, agatha is the only one looking at billy, she's the only one who understands the implications of the exchange between billy and sharon. I imagine her process being something like "this is really going to hurt the kid later -> should I say something? -> should I step in? -> should i...? -> ... ->nah"

so the moon in the sky and the color of the leaves on the Road depend on the trial? is that why they were blue just now? I need to pay more attention to stuff like that

sharon takes a deep breath, sighs, goes into the house last.

sudden aspect ratio change! not my favorite outfits, but I love those pants on kathryn

see you tomorrow peeps ❤️

go to episode 3 part 2